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nethhiri · 7 months ago

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Marooned: Chapter 25

Kid x Fem Reader x Killer

Warnings: violence lite, kissing girls and liking it

Fuck Around...

The Victoria Punk pulled into port in the early afternoon. This island was clearly not affiliated with any kind of marine presence. It appeared disorganized and haphazard from your bird's eye view. There were a lot of buildings, most of them looked like shops rather than houses. Stopover islands often had tons of resources available to purchase, but permanent residents were few. That was doubly true of stopover islands without marines. The type of people that wanted to settle in one place didn't feel safe without them around, and business practices were shady at best, downright criminal at worst.

While you would have been nervous to step foot on an island like this in your past life, you had been on many such like this in your career as the Sea Snake. Places like this, with no laws, and disenfranchised folks, were ideal for promising better lives, and instead kidnapping people to sell. By way of this, they were also great places to ambush traffickers, and it wasn't difficult to recognize which were affiliated with corrupted marines. They had money and they tended to go after people that were younger and attractive. And if you happened to catch others in the cross-fire, oh well. You had tunnel vision and it was dead set on revenge.

The girls had already scrambled off while you had to hang back and wash dishes after breakfast. Kid and Killer left together not long ago. You debated on whether or not to bring Mini, although she had been crammed on this ship and would also make a great pack-mule, so you decided she could come. You had a list of stuff you wanted, but remembered Killer had taken your savings. It would be really embarrassing to ask for a little back. Though, you had wanted to try your hand at counterfeiting.

While you were thinking about the logistics of shopping, a familiar face walked up beside you. "Want some company?"

You greeted Heat with a smile. "Only if you don't mind going clothes shopping first. Do you have any paper I could borrow?"

Heat gave you a curious glance.

"So I can make Berry." You wiggled your fingers, devil fruit powers ready.

Heat snorted. "Look at the little marine now."

You shot Heat a glare. "Watch it or I won't share my fake money with you."

The two of you, plus Mini, headed off the ship as soon as you had converted enough regular paper into something indistinguishable from Berry. As you said, the first order of business was clothes shopping. Heat had good taste, so you were glad that he wanted to go with you. Heat picked out a few things for himself, leather things that matched his aesthetic. He had also picked some things for you, of a similar style. You couldn't remember ever owning anything leather.

You held up some of the stuff he had picked. "Heat, this is too much."

"No, no it'll match your jacket. It'll look cool."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Did your captain put you up to this?"

"No!" Heat crossed his heart. "But..." He was a little sheepish, "I do know what he likes." He gestured to the pile of things you had to try on. "I kinda figured you wanted to catch his eye."

"First of all, maybe. Second of all, I could catch anyone's eye that I wanted." You grabbed the pile and went into a dressing room.

Heat rolled his eyes. "I have no doubts." He continued to browse for himself. "Show me when you have something on."

There were some black leather shorts with straps on the legs. Pants were more your thing, though these shorts looked really good on you and you would need more clothes for hotter weather, granted leather was not the most comfortable fabric in heat. A few simple tops, some tank tops since you generally liked your arms exposed, some other varieties so you had options, including a deep red corseted top that you couldn't resist. There were pants that were more your vibe, baggy, many pockets, and hanging from the hips, with some decorative straps. And then there was what Heat had picked out: white leather low-rise pants that laced all the way up the legs on the sides paired with a top to match. You had to admit it would look cool with your jacket, and you did look eye-catching. Maybe Heat knew a thing or two.

Heat gave you a thumbs up when you walked out. "See?"

"You were right." You considered yourself in the mirror. "Pick out some more things for me."

After trying a few more things, you both settled on your final options. You had also left Heat to his own devices while you grabbed some more intimate things, simple things, not anything wild. There was nothing worse than being short on bras and panties. You hung your bags on Mini's tusks, much to her displeasure. They only got heavier as you and Heat made your way through the various shops. Heat wanted to get some mapping things for Wire and journaling things for himself. You decided to pick up a small sketchbook. There were some things you wanted to start working on and needed to draw plans for. Speaking of which, you needed to visit a few more places.

"I'm gonna head back to the ship. Want me to bring the bags?" Heat asked.

You cocked your head at him. "That's kind of you to offer. That would be great."

He took them from Mini and she gave him a grateful lick on the cheek. "You gonna come out with us later?" He patted her on the head in return.

You were staring at his arms. Is it a crew requirement to have beefy arms? You knew those bags weren't light. "I'll think about it." You winked at him. "Which bar?"

Heat shrugged. "All of them." You both laughed. "Don't go by yourself though," Heat added. "This is a rough place at night."

Shooting him an incredulous look, "You're so cute, Heat." It was endearing, however unwarranted. You had literally skinned a guy's face a few days ago.

He rolled his eyes again, but his cheeks were tinted. "I'll put your bags on your bunk."

"Thank you." You couldn't help adding, "Don't go looking through my panties now."

Heat walked off and gave you the finger as you cackled.

Hopping on Mini's back, now that she was unencumbered with bags, you got on to your other errands: finding an armory and some place that sold scrap metal, because you would be damned if you asked Kid to borrow some. It was dusk when you got back to the Punk and Mini was loaded down with various pieces of metal. You had gotten a few other items as well. You didn't really want to put all of it by your bunk, not that there was room anyway, so you brought everything to the infirmary for storage until you could get to it.

The last time you had cleaned up nicely was for Killer's party and that was with help. The boat was pretty vacant. Everyone was out for the most part except for some stragglers and some rookies who were assigned watch duty. You treated yourself to a quick shower, probably the only time you had gotten the women's showers to yourself. There wasn't time for your hair to dry so you left it alone. You mainly wanted to wash the day's grime from your skin so you didn't stink. Nothing worse than someone with B.O. grinding on you, not that you would be doing that.

With maroon lips, a little bit of mascara, and the outfit that Heat had put together, you looked better than you had the last time. Maybe you thought that because it was more your style than a dress. The last touch was using your power to change the color of your heeled boots from black to white. No better way to ruin an outfit than to wear clashing shoes. One of the items you had acquired earlier in the day was a little switchblade, which you tucked into your shoe. Never knew when it could come in handy. You threw your holster and coat on, then decided your coat hid too much skin. Normally, you didn't care and you would want to advertise who you were, but you hadn't been to a bar in a long time and wanted to be a little unrestrained.

When you had a big, beautiful beast like Minerva, whose best attribute was sense of smell, though she would argue it was her tusks if she could speak, it was easy to find the bar that the majority of the Kid Pirates were patronizing. No one had bothered you on the way there. Something about a huge animal mounted by a person with an aggressive demeanor really limited the amount of people in your way. Minerva unfortunately was too large to comfortably fit in the establishment so she was content to sit outside, occasionally snorting at people to spook them, for her own entertainment.

The bar was noisy and dim, as expected, and packed with a grungy variety of pirates, thieves, bounty hunters, and other criminally minded folks. The white of your outfit and the fact you were coming in alone drew the attention of many gazes. Most people wore dark clothes, so you stood out. Not to mention, you were gifted with a body so perfect, you could lay someone down on hot coals to use them as a bridge to walk across and they would thank you. At least, that's what someone had told you once. For a moment, the bar had quieted to a low murmur, save for a boisterous laugh that you recognized as belonging to the Red Menace. Purposefully, you ignored that area and went straight to an open stool at the bar.

Of course Kid noticed as you walked in. His eyes devoured your figure in that tight leather outfit. If you had asked him if he was waiting to see you walk in, he would deny it, but he was pleased that you did. He was not pleased, however, when you ignored him and went to the bar. And he was especially not pleased when you started giggling and flirting with some loser who bought you a drink. He didn't even have a bounty for fuck sake. Kid grumbled to himself and downed the rest of his beer, slamming the stein on the table and demanding another from the waitress.

"What's wrong, pirate?" The pretty ginger shifted in his lap.

"Shut up." Kid continued groping the petite little whore that had wound herself around him. It fed his ego that women, and some men, threw themselves at him. He liked that they decorated his side at whatever bar they decide to visit. But now, for some reason, he was just annoyed. The girl in his lap squeaked. He had been squeezing her a little too tightly. "Why don't ya fuck off?" He all but tossed the woman away from him, returning to his refilled mug trying to burn through that guy's head with his glare.

You could feel Kid's attention on you. You smirked knowing that meant you were probably bothering him in some way. The guy you were pretending to be interested in was telling you about all his adventures, obviously trying to impress you. You finished your drink, leaving the bar while he was still talking to you. His voice faltered and he turned around to mope over his glass. A hand grabbed at you while you were walking to a corner where they were playing darts. You took the hand by the wrist and held it like it was a dirty sock.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." This was one of your favorite games to play. A game where you let them think you were simply a pretty thing to look at, let them get themselves into trouble, and then you got to punish them for it.

"Why not, sweet cheeks? You're dressed like you want some attention."

You dropped his hand, ignoring him, and started to walk away, when he grabbed you again. This time you turned his arm around behind his back and forced his head down on the table. Then you rested your knee on his back to free up your hand, taking his drink and finishing it off. "Least you could do is buy me a drink first." You let him go and continued on. He was lucky you didn't smash his glass over his head.

Killer had watched the interaction. He, like Kid, had also noticed when you came in. For a while, when you hadn't shown up, he thought you may have left completely, but Heat had mentioned you had been with him all afternoon and planned on meeting up with them. Killer thought your hair was cute down instead of in its usual ponytail. And of course you were hot in leather, even so Killer thought you would probably look hot in just about anything. He saw when that man had grabbed you, noticing that his hand tightened around his glass. When the guy grabbed you a second time, he heard the mug in Kid's hand shatter, causing him to relax his own grip before he did the same. Prior to either of them getting up to handle it, they watched you push the guy down into the table. Killer swore Kid had a smug hint of a smile on his face. Honestly, Killer should have known you would put him his place yourself.

Darts was a lot harder to play with one eye. If you had won, you would have gotten some money. If you lost, you owed your competition a kiss. Your competition happened to be the short, ginger girl that had been sitting with Kid earlier, though you hadn't noticed her at that time, and you had lost badly. The girl, whose name was Ruby, was cute, freckles spattered across her cheeks, and her ginger hair, short and wild about her face. She was like a pixie.

"You talk a big game for someone so tiny," you quipped. You weren't used to being the taller one in a pair. Like many other things, it had been some time since you had kissed a girl, though the last time was probably also at a bar. She grabbed your hand and led you into a corner booth. "I think the deal was a kiss, not a date."

"Yeah, well, have one drink with me. That guy on the other side of the bar pissed me off and you seem like a fun time. I saw you smash that dude's face." She laughed and motioned for a waiter to bring you drinks.

"Do you want me to smash your guy's face, too? Who was it?" You smirked. Maybe coming out tonight would be more fun than you thought. A waiter came over and put two glasses in front of you both, filled with a small amount of greenish liquid. "Absinthe?" You raised an eyebrow. So I'll be getting shitfaced tonight. You took a sip and scrunched your face at the strong taste.

"Yeah it's kind of my drink of choice." Ruby pointed to the table that Kid was sitting at. "That red-head over there. But I don't think you want to fight him. It's Eustass Kid, of the Kid Pirates."

You almost spit out your drink. "Is that so?" This girl had questionable taste, like yourself. "He pisses me off, too." You pondered something for a minute. "Do you want to really piss him off and get your kiss?" A sinister thought poisoned your mind.

"See? I knew you would be fun."

You downed both drinks and grabbed her by the hand this time, leading her outside. Earlier, you saw that the booth that Kid was in happened to be by a window. You pulled Ruby to the side of the bar, not in front of the window, but next to it, close enough where you knew they could hear you, yet couldn't see you. You were both giggling as you pushed Ruby so her back was to the wall. She wrapped her arms around your neck and jumped up to wrap her legs around you, you supporting her with one hand, while the other played with her hair. "Maybe I have a thing for redheads," you wondered out loud. You didn't even know if Kid had noticed the two of you slip out. Even if he didn't, you still got to make out with one cute ginger tonight. The alcohol was starting to make the edges of your mind fuzzy.

Kid couldn't rip his orange leer from your back. What were you doing, talking to that pint-sized whore from earlier? He barely even participated in the conversation with his own officers. His eyeballs almost fell out of his head when he watched you two go outside. There were only a handful of things people went outside to do. I am NOT jealous. Those two whores can fuck around outside all they want. So why couldn't he relax and enjoy his drink? He growled and turned to Killer to bitch, when they both heard giggling and felt a thump outside the wall. This was not a well-constructed establishment. That could be anyone. They went back to their conversation, though Kid slowly tapered off when he heard sounds that were definitely from your mouth.

The little ginger demon was not shy, slipping her tongue in your mouth and snaking her hands into your hair. You took turns leaving marks on each other's necks. "How do you know him?" She asked you.

You pulled away from biting at her collarbone to answer, "Fucked. Tried to kill each other. Fucked again."

"So you're dating?" She bit the top of your breast, making you gasp.

That evolved into a laugh. "Not a chance in hell."

"You like poking the bear then?" She tugged at the laces on your top.

"Something like that," You grinned. At once, her hand stilled and she tensed. You stopped and looked at her face, which had paled.

She whispered to you, "Good because the bear is right behind you." She unraveled herself from you and put her feet back down on the ground, slipping out from under you and scurrying back into the bar.

You turned around to see Kid, as red as you thought he would be. "You scared my date away."

"What do ya think yer doing?"

"I lost a bet." You put your hands out in defeat, as if you had no choice but to comply and this was not at all your idea. He wasn't yelling at you, which was strange. The rest of the Kid Pirates were behind him. You guessed that was why.

"We're going somewhere else." He grabbed you and pushed you in the direction of the others. "Don't get left behind." He stalked off to walk by Killer.

Heat found you in the back of the group, Mini trotting beside you. "She was cute. Do you have a thing for redheads?"

"You know I was wondering that myself."

Heat stopped you for a second to retie your top and wipe some smeared lipstick from around your mouth. "Have you eaten today?"

"Not really." You lowered your voice so only Heat could hear, "Did I get him mad?"

"I can tell. You're not gonna last the night if you don't eat. That was only the first bar." Heat fake-punched you in the arm. "Yeah, he made us leave early. Thanks a lot."

"Sorry. I didn't think he would do that."

"What did you think he was gonna do?" Heat realized his mistake. "No, don't answer that."

It was too late. You were already explaining an elaborate plot fitting for an X-rated film. Very loudly, in fact, since you were sort of drunk. The half of the crew that heard it was pink from head to toe, including Killer. All the girls were giggling and making gagging noises. Kid was grinning ear to ear, chest puffed out, a 180 degree turn from the moping, pouty captain that he had been minutes before.

If that's what she wanted, all she had to do was ask. But now I think I'll make her beg. Kid's ego had been bruising this entire time, when it really should have been inflated.

Next Chapter

#spoiler alert: next chapter reader Finds Out #next chappie will be spicy!#idk how many times I gotta say I want Heat to be my bff #marooned #eustass kid #massacre soldier killer #kid x reader x killer #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #one piece #x reader

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ancientgoddessofegypt · 6 months ago

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TAROT OBSERVATIONS

Ahhh tarot, one of my fave things to talk about.

So I want to talk about a few cards that's been on my mind lately. Some times interpretations can be a little misguided, but overall I like to tell people to trust their gut. So without further a due we can get started on some things I've observed over the years.

Starting with..

7 of Cups

so the 7 of cups takes a focus on dreams and goals that one wants to embark on.. but wait.. which one do you choose? its so funny to me. Because its like each cup shows a different dimension on where your life could go. But only one is going to be the one that works the best at the moment. And the rest will follow. This is where a lot of confusion comes in when this card comes up in the reading, be it love, money, career... you name it. It's message to the reader is so that this person can choose ONE thing, so it can commit on the others little by little. Piece by piece. Giving your all to that one thing, and a little bit here and there to the others will help them grow much easier. If its in the matters of love, you might have too much on your plate, and should probably re-examine the wants and needs of your relationship in due time.

8 of Cups

Abundance. Time. And Commitment. Nothing comes fast and easy with this placement, and even if you don't have all the resources, someone will come along and will help you for the ride. Don't be ashamed to let people in when you dont know what works at the moment. You could use a helping hand even if you think you have it all together you know. with the 8 of cups, its simply asking us to feel determined in all that we do, because the reward is right around the corner.

The Empress

I love this one, which is why its the third one. The Empress shows creative magic, that is connected to the sacral chraka/womb space. The person who gets this card in any reading is shown to have deep resilience, luck, charm and an openess that brings people towards them. Even if they do not know this for themselves, they are seen as attractive individuals and its their auras that capture the attention of many. If you see this in a love reading, career reading or even a money reading, you have all the cards and should be using your energy to the fullest.

Queen Of Wands

This card shows an individual who is a boss, is top notch and knows what they want. If you get this card in a love, career, money reading etc. You gotta play your part as the leader in some way and to never run away from it. It shows a drive in the persona that could be very fiery in nature, and people tend to like this side of you. Could also show someone who can be great in what they do, and should be open to sharing that gift with everyone in the future.

8 of Wands

The 8 of wands is a bit fickle to me. It shows a lot determination at the start, like going back and forth on an idea and then coming to terms with it. This can show up as energy that can be fiery and has a need to 'go to war' for whatever it is that person desires. A lot of heavy lifting in my opinion.

Ace of Coins

Beneficial in a reading if you ask me. If you see this come up in any reading, be it love, money, career etc. You might get something special out of it. Like all that work paid off or something. Could be a new lover could be financial stable and you could benefit from this. Your new career could be bringing you a fortune, or you simply are in luck for some fun and money matters are going to be alright. So if you get this card this energy would be great to pull in a reading.

The Moon

The subconscious is the focal point here for me. It's really deep and can penetrate the reading in a whole new function, since its connected to water. I feel that getting this card in a love reading would show something you need to analyze a bit more, learning how to trust your gut and not going in head first all of the time. The moon card is indeed the mystic, and you could learn a lot about how your emotions plays a huge role in your reality at the moment.

The Sun

Excellence. A really lucky card. It shows that things will go great during this time and how your energy will be more lucky, confidence will be up, and life will show experiences that makes living all worth it. It could be a sign of celebration. In love, it could mean a happy, balanced couple. In career, this could be fortunate. It all depends on what you're looking to get into.

6 Of Coins

My generous card. When pulling this card, it shows an appreciation of material things and the heart. Its focus is on helping the ones you love, and being in a fortunate position and using that gift to work with the community in some way shape or form. It could also mean you might need to hold on to your coin a little longer, and not being a super spender just because you got it, you never know when you're going to need it for something good ;)

Thats it for now. Just wanted to try this new observation list and get started on more to come. Hope you lot enjoy!

#tarot observations #tarot community #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot readers #tarot #tarot deck #tarot witch

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nico-esoterica · 2 months ago

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Cardi's Self Worth Awakening (Astro Analysis x Surprise Channeling) ✨

Disclaimer: I did not expect Cardi's energy to just come rushing in to tell me everything but apparently..that happened as you read along.

I love the way the eclipse season finishing up in Cardi's chart w/ Libra/Aries is helping her fully realize her worth. We're seeing a massive shift w/ this where many in her position are having wake up calls more than ever due to Saturn in Pisces because it makes us what's aware of the wrong that needs to be exorcised or rectified. With Pluto transgressing back into Capricorn one final time w/ said Saturn ruling it, for some, it's about demolishing structures where we were taught we needed to save space and handle business as usual that can't be tolerated any longer.

Belacalis was born on a full moon in Libra-Aries and is experiencing a Mars Return in Cancer. This eclipse season will be all about her vocalizing and expressing the years of pent up rage she was made to endure. It'll feel like a phoenix rising from the ashes best case scenario. Especially since her Juno's also being hit since it's also in Cancer. There's a lot of 'aha' moments she's been feeling in private. She's wanted to pull away but I'm intuitively getting that the timing just wasn't right and she needed time to properly process and let him go. She has a tendency to want to not only fight for her family, as she should, but fight to hold onto things which don't want her anymore.

There's an insecure attachment issue and as a Cancer placement we have a tendency to just keep things and people around that hurt us but that pain is familiar and brings us comfort. We often don't realize how dangerous it is. I think she genuinely wanted him to change. But a lot of it had to do with this image of a perfect family she wanted to fight to maintain so she wouldn't look like a stereotype or a statistic in public while she was being humiliated privately. She was keeping it together for her children's sake. But in the back of her mind, she knew this man could never actually want her. He would never fight for her and wanted to make her feel small to punish her for being powerful. I feel like she could smell that coming but he was very good at manipulating and gaslighting her because she'd never make a fool of him or smear his reputation publicly and could 'take the abuse' and he used that to his advantage.

The man is a child, honestly. Energetically, he's extremely immature but his dreams/creativity but overall childishness are facilitated/enabled by his team and the people around him. He hasn't grown up since he was 11 (I also see 8!) and still has the mind of someone much younger. He may have grown up in other ways physically or responsibility wise but nothing else caught up with him because he wasn't challenged to do so. As in, if no one around him held him accountable, he never took it upon himself to be. I felt this from Beyonce's energy too when hers came to me but they both wanted to nurture the wounded children in their partners. Cardi always loves feeling needed and cherished but it's exploited by people who don't honor and appreciate her properly. You also cannot breast feed a grown man, she's realizing. Like, this phrase came up in my head just now.

Her family helps her feel the most secure but there's also this..feeling I'm getting..that she didn't feel exactly..welcome? So she overcompensated by leaning into more of her Madonna/Mother-Mary side (there's a lot of religious feeling and reverence/iconography here) to be the perfect mother to support the family as a whole. But it drained her and cannibalized her. I'm seeing that they rely on her for everything as a suped-up breadwinner and 'all of a sudden, no one wants to take responsibility'. People are just dumping things on her like 'Cardi, fix it, Cardi fix it' and it's not as if she doesn't have money per se but she's being abused as a resource.

A lot of her best brand deals and money moves happen when there's the right surge of creativity and 'perfect timing' is what I'm hearing. There's a lot of that's divined that she trusts in. Like, she just 'knows' it's the right move for her to make and she's taken care of. She rests a lot of her faith in intuition and God because the combination has honestly saved her in many ways. I really think that she wanted this man to change. I keep getting that. Because I'm also getting that she thought that he was the only man that could ever 'deal' with her so she just endured and kept him around. She felt like she could make him into the man that she deserved but 'nothing worked..we done talked to all the therapists and counselors and head shrinks'. So what I'm getting is that she just tapped out at some point.

Disassociated. There's a lot of feelings of her using drugs/alcohol to help her do it. There's also an underlying addiction issue here that's a coping mechanism. But a lot of it has to do with him. The way this man would talk to her is 'ungodly' and she needed to cope in ways which hurt her but allowed her to keep her head straight or save face or seem like nothing was going on. But she was very big on making sure it never happened around her kids or anything because she 'isn't stupid'. But he...wasn't so careful himself, apparently. She literally had to play Mommy for him too. She was always telling him to not do this and not do that. There's a lot of him that felt like a teenager trying to raise children. I think she feels as if he loved their kids more than her..but she kept that buried. That resentment. But it was never aimed at their kids. It was just like...'If I'm their mother...how come you don't love me???'

For the sake of personal boundaries, I'm cutting this off now because I really genuinely feel like she's fine with letting me just see everything and I'm going to let her keep that private. Her energy is just very..spill-y at the moment and I appreciate what she's shown me but I know when to stop.

But ...jesus fucking christ? This eclipse finally helped her leave for the better. BUT SHE NEEDS TO STAY GONE. SHE NEEDS SKY HIGH BOUNDARIES WITH THIS MAN.

#astrology #cardi b #cardi b astrology #celebrity astrology #astro essays

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onepeaceman · 21 hours ago

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1. A LOT of people are not being honest about how fucked up this situation is

2. A LOT of those same people are not being helpful with resources (and could spare them)

3. A LOT of people are/were in fucked up positions before this. You ignored us then and you're ignoring us now

4. Some people have just enough clarity of mind and perspective that they can be trusted with their assessments - maybe half or less of these people are abled enough to do something.

5. The rest of people are so out of their minds (understandably) as to need more help than not.

...

If you are a well to do queer or minority or some other type of person who has more money than you can spend?

You need to be helping people like us.

If you really believe in a better future for ALL of us and want us to build it?

You need to be sharing resources with people like us.

...

Mutual aid.

Self-sustainability.

Understanding.

...

I used to make $27/hr being a welder. I can drive a fork lift and operate a crane. I've been an assistant manager before. I've been a line cook when I was younger.

I've lived several life times on this planet.

I have struggled my whole life.

I am disabled.

But because I have been "able enough" my disability has been disregarded.

Because I am brown, queer, and trans.. Because I am masc etc?

everything about my existence has been used as a reason not to help me.

Yet people would demand I fight for a future. For all of us.

When I can barely fight for myself.

Because people would rather hate on, ignore, ostracize, fetishize etc

I'm sick of the world's disingenuous bullshit.

It is always really obvious who is who nowadays, too. Because the worse people will patronize you without an inkling of what you've actually been through.

All the while saying shit like "it's not that bad" (for them)

You want mf like me to pull myself up by my boot straps. It's racist and ablelist.

You want to keep living in a world where there's more or less privileged peoples. But maybe it's based on things like whether you like their gender presentation or if they're a threatening or weird sort of queer.

Or maybe you're still an exclusionist along racial and/or ideological lines.

I want to live in a post scarcity society.

I want to live in a world where everyone is safe, healthy, free, and happy.

Prison abolition. Abolition of borders.

Universal basic healthcare.

We have the resources and the science to do it.

Be scared. Be angry. Be bitter. Use that shit to help one another.

The only way we're getting through this is together.

Because let me tell you: maybe many of us poor, disabled, queer, and neurodivergent folx are fucked up.

But we have a lot more of what is right in the world than many have who would abandon us to our plight.. based on some miserable purity morality bullshit left over from Christian, white nationalist, false meritocracy, racist belief system.

#lgbtq #trans man #hopepunk

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kitweewoos · 2 years ago

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Random thought. Have you watched Criminal minds at all? Anyway the BAU team and Voight's team working together for some case and Will also pulled in for medical info. Penelope Garcia is a nick Namer and calls Will baby boy at 1 point. And Matt Cooper is involved in some way.

Hi Dania!!! I thought about this for a bit, because I love it, and it deserves that attention. Because, yes, I've watched a lot of Criminal Minds. It's one of my sister's favorite shows, and I've seen a lot of the episodes (some repeatedly). I imagine that kind of plotline is like...

Intelligence is looking into a serial killer in Chicago who is targeting single gay men, typically either using Grindr or just picking them up at the club, and it falls into their territory because it seems to be connected to a drug dealer, since the victims keep dying to a very specific laced drug that seems to be source-less. Unfortunately, the deaths are mounting up without any evidence leading them to the unsub, and they reach out to the BAU for help, and because of the death count, the BAU flies right out to investigate.

Jay, once the BAU lands and starts looking through the case, offers Will as a medical resource, especially given that he's been helping in the ED and drug clinics since this strain has popped up, and has been working with Intelligence to bring them more information about the drug and it's effects. He's more than willing to help, even as their tech wiz, a rival to Mouse himself, Penelope Garcia, calls him baby boy and sweetly Ginger Spice and makes him blush hot. (Jay teases Will for hours about the reaction, not realizing that Will isn't into Garcia, he's just easily embarrassed about someone seemingly flirting with him.)

Unfortunately, that does put a target on Will's back, and Will is the next victim, but Will, smart as he is, carries an antidote of sorts on him, that's not perfect but prevents him from overdosing and dying. It means he's in the hospital, unconscious, recovering but not able to provide them any information about what happened to him. So, Jay and the BAU have to connect the dots of Will's life, and surprisingly so much of his life has been hidden in shadow, and held a secret away from his brother and friends.

At the end of the clues, they find Matt Cooper. Jay knows him, vaguely, as the guy Moira almost married about a decade before, but no, he seems to have connections to Will, too, intimate connections, including videos of them together, and that's certainly not something Jay was expecting to see, or ever wants to see again. Matt Cooper, who has ties to a company known to Intelligence and the FBI for possible money laundering and mafia connections, was their number one suspect, considering the string of messages between Will and Matt recently, Matt inviting Will out for drinks the day he was drugged.

When they investigate Matt, they find more and more suspicious activity long before he contacted Will again, and Jay is sure he's their man. Following the lead of the BAU, they track him down and bring him in, but it seems, to Jay and to the agents he's dealing with, that Matt is not exactly who they're looking for. There's a whole web that begins to be revealed. This isn't just a serial murderer with a penchant for humiliating his victims and praying on men who were just looking for a hook-up. It's the start of something much darker, much deeper, and so much worse.

(it got away from me, no surprise)

#chicago pd #cpd #one chicago #chicago med #cmed #jay halstead #will halstead #criminal minds #the bau #matt cooper #ask tag #talk to me #daniacat #a tag for dania #will halstead is gay and no one can tell me otherwise #also he and matt fucked

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

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Blood Pumping P2

Media Nowhere Boy

Character Paul

Couple Paul X Reader

Rating Flirty AF

Requested

I didn't know which was worse my fear or my excitement, it was like having two over excited puppies in my mind jumping over each other attempting to be seen. The door opened and immediately I gulped her shoes gone, her little white socks pulled high, her skirt tugged up high, her button down shirt unbuttoned enough to reveal the start of her cream bra, her tie long gone, her hair let loose from the usual braids and ponytails allowed to hang naturally with only her alice band to push it back.

"Oh hi Paul"

For a moment no words arrived at my mouth honestly I was doing my best not to loose my balance as I felt like I could have fainted as my heart was beating out my chest, my blood pumping around me every drop of blood flooding to my stiff erection ".........uhhhh hi y/n" I blushed

"Don't you look handsome"

"Uuuuuuuughhhhhhhh thank you, you uhhhh you umm" I stuttered "You look beautiful"

"You're cute. Come on we can sit up in my room" she smiled grabbing my hand and dragging me inside with her

She lead me into her bedroom which was actually in the loft having to climb a steep stairwell to get up there but it wa sa very large room with anything a teenage girl could want a huge double bed, desk, a huge record collection that rivaled my own and John's out together next to a pretty high end player, and her own one suite. Everything in it was impressive and clearly expensive many of the perfume, make up and such I recognized from magazines and such I didn't know what her family did but clearly they had money.

"Whoa this uhh this is nice" I told her as she jumped on her bed hugging a stuffed bear I had to avert my eyes given I now stood over her bed and could pretty much see up her skirt and honestly seeing her in this half undone school uniform in her bed hugging her teddy bear was… unlocking things in my mind it really shouldn't have been, uuummmm believe me babydoll I wanna jump in that bed with you

"Thanks, took a lot of work" she says

"I can imagine, so uhh algebra?" I asked putting my stuff down trying not to look at her

"Ehh do we have to? I've just done so much work at school" she whined rolling on her bed a little

"Well we uhh we can chill out for a little better it that would help?" I suggested

"Awww your so sweet" she smiled getting up and stroking across my shoulders as she past me "none of my other tutors let us do that" she smiled giving my cheek a kiss

"Well I uhh I uh I'm not like other tutors"

"I can see that" she smiled flicking through her records finally picking one and adding it to the player setting some music on and I recognized the song

"Hu… you uhh you like this?"

"Ummm very much"

"I uhh I do too, I don't have it myself but John plays it alot. How'd you get it? I thought it hadn't been released over here yet?"

"I have my ways" she smiled

"Do uhh you mind me asking what your parents do?"

"My mum works in the seamstress shop in town turning hems and such" she explained moving around her room doing various things "you can sit on the bed Paul it's okay" she smiled

So I did take a seat there even if I had to force some darker thoughts away "and your dad?"

"He runs the record shop on East gate"

"Really! That explains the collection I'm guessing"

"He likes to give me promos to listen too, he says he uses me for customer resource"

"How do?"

"He gives me all the promos the shop gets and I tell him what to order and what not to order track the trends he says"

"I uhh I go there all the time"

"Umm he tells me"

"He does?"

"He likes to keep me posted on…cute boys who sniff around the right musical sections" she Cooes

"That uhh that's how you knew my name?"

"No, I found that out after a nice evening in the dance hall." She explained

"The dancehall? So you uhh you uhhh"

"Yes Paul I've seen you play" she giggled coming and sitting in the bed with me "you boys are really good, but your my favorite"

"Thanks, that's really sweet of you. I'll have to get you backstage some day"

"That would be nice, so long as you promise to keep me safe"

"Of course I would,"

"You'll have to let me know the first time you boys record some stuff I'll have to had it to my collection, I'd pay of course"

"Absolutely, but I couldn't charge you y/n"

"That's sweet Paul, but really it's no trouble I'd love to not fair to get stuff for free" she says and a wicked smile went across her face she stroked across my hand and I glanced down nervously but excited and when I glanced back up to her she captured my lips in an intense hot kiss I happily kissed back feeling my blood pumping around my body in excitement as we kissed till she pulled away and kissed my nose "that can be a little deposit"

"Uuuuuuuhhh yeah uhh okay" I nodded trying desperately to think straight

"That okay or do you need some more?" She asks wrapping her arms around my shoulders

"Uhh more. Yeah more.. please"

"Your so cute, it's fine Paul you can kiss and cuddle as much as you like even a little more of you… did my algebra for me?"

"Deal!" I told her happily pulling her back for another kiss

#tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagines #tbs imagine #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #thomas sangster #thomas brodie sangster #tbs #thomas brodie sangster imagine #paul smut #paul #nowhereboy #nowhere boy

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wardencommanderrodimiss · 1 year ago

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I have been trying to shape this into a full, coherent narrative for a little while, but a lot of the connective tissue is missing, like how they actually get the twins ferried over to Jugdral. Which, the answers might be "Byleth hits up Yuri to get someone to fake birth certificates" or "the house leaders apply Money and Rich Family Connections to the problem to get a no-questions-asked flight to Belhalla" because that is just a way that these plots can end. Fundamentally, there are a lot of Rich Kids in this AU, and they can just solve some of these problems the way Rich Kids do.

The other big piece I've not figured out was "what does Manfroy do when he finds out the babies are missing, what does Thales do, do they stir up more shit and cause issues to splash back on the main cast". Like Manfroy could just panic and try to kidnap Deirdre and then figure out the details later. Thales might know that Edelgard and Dimitri have to be caught up in this. I haven't decided how much I want to put the main cast do; I kinda wanna cut Deirdre a break, because the poor woman goes through enough in canon and I don't need to put her through a kidnapping, but on the other hand, that gives Validar something to do to cause problems - send in Aversa with a baseball bat to un-kidnap a woman, and that's a funny concept. There's lots of ways the story can splinter after the initial "we stole two babies" part and I’ve had trouble deciding what I want to do with it!

Anyway that’s absolutely hysterical that Jedah is just. carrying on with whatever crimes he’s committing, totally unaware of the slapfight happening between the other three axis of the Cult Gang. He finds out months later that Manfroy had and lost A Potential Vessel For Their God and Manfroy blames Thales and Thales blames Validar and frankly, Jedah still doesn’t quite understand how Validar actually played into this.

They got some of Arvis' blood too, just by telling him “hey give us some blood or we’ll let people find out about your bloodline secret :)”, and he's dead enough inside that he's like, whatever, here, take it, they’re not actually going to be able to do anything with a bit of my blood and hair. And unfortunately for him he does not know that Manfroy knows Thales and Thales has the resources for Incredibly Unethical Science.

That’s incredibly funny, the idea that Thales could like, try to make a legal claim. I’d like to think he tries to make a claim on some sort of Intellectual Property Patent Law kinda grounds, and everyone else goes “THAT IS A HUMAN PERSON”

Robin hits Arvis with it as soon as she knows for sure, which is probably 3 am local time, and Arvis only gave her his number acting under the assumption that she would never ever call him because of international fees, and he answers the phone ready to demand what the fuck is going on and he barely gets one word out before Robin hits him with “you have a half-sister and the Loptyrian Church stole both your and her DNA to cobble together a vessel for their god in a lab and by a vessel I mean a baby - two babies - they stole your DNA and cloned two babies in a lab in Fodlan—“ and Arvis is like “repeat everything you just said but slower”.

Robin goes through the whole thing and has enough info about Arvis’ alleged half-sister that Arvis just. slowly opens Facebook. looks at the friend request from Sigurd that’s been sitting unanswered for two years. looks at Sigurd’s wife in the profile picture with him. slowly pulls a pillow over his head and considers setting himself on fire.

Anyway Arvis does not have Sigurd’s phone number or any contact info for him, still refuses to accept that friend request, and refuses to ask Azelle if he has any contact info for Sigurd, and he’s going to wait to try to get some sort of actual proof from Robin, but he’s also slowly losing his mind and going through every stage of grief and then some bonus unlockable stages, and anyway by the time he has whatever he considers sufficient proof, he calls out of work and just drives to Chalphy because he doesn’t have Sigurd’s number but he knows where Sigurd lives so he just shows up at Sigurd’s house looking like he was hit by a train and he’s like. Hello. I have recently learned something.

It is really a lot on every level for all of them.

#three frat houses au #three frat houses au: the twins arc

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alma-amentet · 1 year ago

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I’ve been tagged by @katastronoot and @sheirukitriesfandom

Feel free to take if you haven’t been tagged already.

1) Describe one creative WIP project you’re planning to work on over the summer.

Just a few days ago I decided to pull myself together and finish my drafts, debts and references queue. There’s a number of tabs with refs hanging in my browser... Need to get rid of them! Then I’ll also finish some tutorials from my previous lessons as well as rewatch the ones I already did, just to get back in shape. And will probably dive into some other courses - I have some good videos.

Was thinking about making some doll, clothes after a long break. My drunk shepherdess needs this, as I changed my mind to sell her away! (she’s another story). And a bag for my favorite tarot deck, now I use the the bag I made for another one, while that another one rests in a bag that once was part of friend’s Christmas present.

The rest is optional for now, but I hope to start drawing more portraits again. Maybe, by the end of the year I’ll be taking requests and trades for your OCs and favorite characters... That would be super cool.

I wanted to start attending my IRL art class again, but looks like I won’t be able to afford it 😢 Sadly I’m not making much money these days, and there are some unexpected expences.

2) Rec a book!

Tanith Lee, The Night’s Master. I think Elden Ring fans will appreciate 😉 Made a post about it a while ago.

I also liked The Winter Players - finally, a good and strong female protagonist! Not evil, unlike Zorayas - the one from the Night’s Master 😉

3) Rec a fic!

False Azure in the Windowpane by Tulak_Hord

If you don’t mind het Malenia ship. I don’t because it has a lot of fluff and an interesting Tarnished. I loved the first 55k words, excluding the chapter where they sparred (for me, that felt too long and boring). But I keep reading it.

Also Flamed Aeonia by BadMonsterFr

This one has fem shipping, also a lot of hurt/comfort and fluff - just the way I like it!

I love Malenia fluff. So more Malenia fluff pls! If you can rec me anything else like this, you're welcome! (yes I know and love Unalloyed, esp. the epilogue. It’s somewhat different, more on Millicent and Miquella, but just my vibes as well).

(also I’m really sorry for not reading some of fandom’s buddies works, I do - I’d like to support you more ... started some of them, but couldn’t keep up. I’m a bad and slow reader, and prefer smaller sizes to long ongoings. There are just two long ongoings I'm reading, False Azure and Rebecca's, because they are updated not really often).

4) Rec Music!

I’m on my Breton and Francophone folk kick again, so I recommend

- La Boutine Souriante, folk-rock from Quebec (so far I’m listyening to their earliest albums, but they’ve been around since 70s and have many albums)

- Tri Yann. Modern Breton classics, I’d say! Love those old men who are still fit and well.

5)Share one piece of advice!

I agree with @vidvana Take care of yourself! Also don’t skip meals, get enough sleep. And if you feel you’d use some support, seek it any ways. If you can’t afford therapy or anything, there’s plenty of books and resources. Sometimes it’s even easier to help yourself than to find help. I’m quite experienced in self-help, I know what I’m talking about.

For me, Julia Cameron’s “The Artists’s Way” has become that single straw I grasped in my darkest times, and it actually helped greatly! I also used her list of further reading and quotes, thus finding Shakti Gauvain, whose books are inspiring and supportive as well. Later I was a moderator for several groups for the Asrtists’Way. Not an easy experience, but it taught me something as well.

But if there’s a chance of any therapy, groups, any other support, don’t give it up as well.

#ask game #tag game #alma.txt

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moontheoretist · 2 years ago

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Fury leaned back in his seat. His good eye roamed across Tony’s face. “Then you know what we do.” “I know what you say you do—hell, I believe you actually believe in what you do.” “Your father believed in the same.” “My father, Devil rest his ornery soul, was a paranoid alcoholic so traumatized from early childhood poverty and anti-Russian sentiment that he grew up to be a controlling, obsessive, emotionally absent man so hopped up on his brand of toxic masculinity that he worshipped an icon of American nationalism and neglected his only child in the process. This, of course, left said child with a barrage of psychological issues. That report you have on me was surprisingly detailed. This is why I quit therapy the first time, by the way. Some people are only in it for the money.” “Goes to show how little you can trust anyone.” “Which brings us closer to why you’re actually here. How much can Tony Stark be trusted? Obadiah Stane turned out to be a bad bet—how much influence did he have on Tony Stark? Am I warm?” “Eh, pretty warm.” “I mean, I already know because I have your texts to Maria Hill pulled up. You should sleep more, Director.” Fury’s poker face was a thing to be admired. “I get it,” Tony continued. “I was the exact same. But marriage changes a man. Leave the phone at its charging station and set a firm bedtime and, oh, I can’t believe I’ve lived any other way. I’m sleeping like a baby. When I’m not doing other things. That was innuendo, by the way.” “I’m aware, Stark.” “Let me ease your fears, Director. We are both very busy men. My father provided SHIELD with his time, technology, and resources freely. I respect that. That shit’s yours. But while you’re using said tech keep in mind it was my father’s and I’m well aware of how it works. On top of that? I’m much smarter than he ever was. Your teams of scientists and techs are boring me to tears. And your head scientist Hernandez does good work but his math got a little sloppy in regards to Howard’s iteration of repulsor tech. Tell him to tighten up.” “I’m so sorry to hear that. I’ll let them know to do better. I can’t abide slackers.” “Same. You know, I actually sort of blame myself for this snafu. I’ve been slacking off myself these past few years. Partying, drinking, drugs…man, I was something else. But this past year has showed me just how lazy I’ve gotten. Physically; mentally.” “Is that a threat? In addition to the others you’ve given during our conversation.” “Oh, no, no. That’s a promise. You’ll find me very focused in the future, Director. Deadly focused.” They stared at each other over the metaphorical chess board between them. Fury moved. “…Self-improvement is important.” “So important. By the way?” Tony slid a thumb drive across the desk. Fury eyed it. “Seriously? I’m already reading your emails just take it.” “What’s on it?” “You got a very bad infestation, Director. Take a look and you’ll see I am the least of your worries.” Fury nodded. He turned the drive over in his fingers and the usb seemed to vanish into thin air. “Holy shit you have got to show me that trick. My little girl would love that.” “This has been enlightening, Stark.” “Happy to be of service.” “But I wonder if your father would approve. You must know we’re not the enemy.” “You’re not my friends, either. Besides, my father had a lot of faults. I’m a little jealous, though.” “Oh?” “Even though Howard worked his way up to become a millionaire, I find this story to be even better: it’s one of an Alabama sharecropper scraping together every last cent to his name to send his eldest to the esteemed Morehouse College in Atlanta, Georgia. Healthy family dynamics-so inspiring. That son was very lucky.” Finally, a twitch. Tony leaned his chin on his clasped hands. “Keep my father’s name out of your mouth, and I’ll keep yours out of mine.”

Have Time — Will Travel by flower-of-el (NibelungVelocity)

This is literally the first time I see any backstory for Nick Fury.

#mcu fanfiction #ironstrange #nick fury

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tangleweave · 2 years ago

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[ A Christmas Submission by @brooklynislandgirl ]

Everyone has somewhere to go, something to do for the holidays. Of this she is sure. The team has taken a few days to disperse, some together and some apart, leaving only herself and Phil as the odd men out and so it feels like kismet. She invites him over to her place and he politely declines. Something about impropriety.

But maybe Phil forgets that she's tenacious in her own right, able to pursue what she wants with the faithfulness of a bloodhound.

Her Santa bag is full of tools for the occasion: burgers from that place he likes in DC ~she's gotten the cook to come up and make it fresh at her place~ and gifts. There's popcorn and cocoa. There's ornaments she made by hand, and some that she saw that reminded her of him. A small tree. An armful of the best holiday movies, and of course, matching socks.

She invites herself over, and she thinks that maybe he's a little surprised that she knows where he lives. Everyone assumes he never leaves headquarters no matter where that happens to be, but Beth knows better.

And when he opens the door? She carefully drops the bag and launches herself into his arms, savouring the warmth and the comfort of him. In a lot of ways, Uncle Phil feels like everything she's ever missed all at once though she can't really explain it.

"Mele Kali--" A pause as she eventually extricates herself even if she doesn't really want to. "I mean... Merry Chris'mus, Phil Coulson. As one'a Santa's lil menehune, it is my joy an' duty t' bring you some holiday cheer. I hope is workin'."

~*~*~*~

[ Tangleweave ]

In the year since his effort to recruit her, Phil has found Beth to be one of the most valuable resources at his disposal, and indeed he would even deign to say to the entirety of SHIELD as an organization. To have even one of her is a privilege beyond measure, because she is absolutely not the kind of person who would join a global intelligence network. She is neither spy nor saboteur… neither analyst nor field officer.

Except that she has proven capable at all of those crafts, and more. At first by necessity… and then, because he had asked her to.

He has not spent a single moment regretting or even questioning his decision to pluck her from the life she had been enduring, so that he could offer her one worth living.

Not even now, as he stands perplexed at his apartment's doorway, seeing the vivacious young woman bearing a red cloth bag over one shoulder, a green stocking cap over her raven tresses, and a beaming smile on her face that wrinkles the sides of her nose. He'd been meticulous about keeping this address out of public record and off most books anyone would bother to check. He pays rent in cash money and the landlord doesn't know his real name. How in the world had she discovered it?

The question vanishes from his mind as she jumps and throws her arms around his neck. It hardly throws him off-balance -- despite her increasing muscle mass from combat training, she's still about equivalent to a soaking wet Raggedy Ann doll -- but he still circles his arms around her by instinct. He isn't typically one to initiate embrace, but he can hardly leave her to be the only one making an effort.

His lips curl into a smile that's equal parts genuine and sardonic when she cuts herself off from putting forth the Hawai'ian greeting and instead gives him one more customary to his neck of the woods. He can't quite keep the clever twinkle out of his eye or his tone when he replies. "I'll take you at your word you're a menehune, because you do fit the criteria for one… though at this point, I might also believe if you said you were an imp."

He pulls away just far enough to look at her properly, and he breathes a sigh of capitulation through his resigned smile. "Yeah, all right… come in."

He holds the door open for her and stands aside as she bears her gift bag over her shoulder again, and as she passes by him he smells the sinful temptation of the warm food within it. He only speaks again after closing the door. "You know you got me like fifteen different ways, Agent Riley. Coming here in the first place, and I'm sure we'll discuss that at some point, but then coming at me with Hawai'ian when you know how much I love Bing Crosby? And don't think I didn't notice the smell coming from that bag. You've got a knack for reaching a man where he lives."

His expression softens, and the smile that had begun as an expression of resignation turns to something more heartfelt. No matter his feelings on propriety, he knows her sentiment comes from the deepest recesses of her heart. If there is anything he's learned about her in the last year, it is that above all else, she wants to make the world a better place. More joyful. More generous.

She is more full of love than anyone he knows. Is it so wrong to let her know her efforts aren't in vain?

He brings one hand up to the center of his chest, his fingers hovering over the scar that everyone knows and no one speaks of. It is perhaps the most honest gesture he can show her in this moment, to let her know that while he leans on professionalism and protocol for daily guidance... she is a North Star for how to have a heart.

"Mele Kalikimaka, Elikapeka."

#submission #brooklynislandgirl #beth riley #muse: coulson #{ long time coming! }#merry christmas

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elodieunderglass · 10 months ago

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Hey looking at the notes there’s a lot more “oh, I’ve been beating myself up over my materialistic impulses, maybe it’s … okay …? to own shoes?” responses than I like to see in you guys, whom I like! Boring long rant under the cut (sorry guys it’s what tumblr is for I guess)

Let’s get it out of the way first; a lot of it is about money, and most people on tumblr have none. There. Done. Moving on.

if you’re a person at the stage of lifestyle where you’re considering whether you deserve things like “a mattress that doesn’t disable you”, you, a material being in the material world, are officially given permission to exist, you, yes, you! you … a material creature with material needs that are at least as valid as a zoo animal or pet. Are we clear on the difference between existing in material space vs. being materialistic? One is a physical condition imposed by having a body; the other is the idea that money and possessions matter more than anything else.

That isn’t being politically bourgeois. Even Marx allows for people to have toothbrushes and “private sufficiency.” Even Catholics own mattresses. Plenty of flawed, problematic, broke humans purchase mattresses every day; witness the continued existence of mattress shops.

Please bear in mind that the little voices criticising you on this are not just your parents; they’re often weird little social media fleas. They’re quite specific to certain social media biomes and definitely not universal. If you post (idk) an expensive pet horse or a fancy coffee machine on some circles of instagram you’ll likely get responses about how nice it is!! but if you imply on some circles of tumblr that you get caffeine in any way except for miserably spooning instant coffee granules into your mouth on the floor of a public bathroom while berating yourself for your carbon footprint, you’ll be reminded that “it must be nice to have MONEY! SOME of us would be grateful for instant coffee and self-hatred in a public bathroom!” Which does, indeed, as intended, make you feel bad. Now ask: What else does it do? What will you mend with that thread?

Please be aware that these fleas are restricted to specific highly sheltered biomes; and most people on Earth, including the truly poor and impoverished ones, would prefer you to pull yourself together and just drink your coffee from a mug. Okay? Because a) it is not doing much meaningfully to improve the material conditions of the people who have less money than you, b) it’s a bit insulting tbh to people who have less money than you that the best activism you can do is “feeling wretched on their behalf”, c) it’s not a great use of your imagination and resources, d) you are taking an interpretation of political economic theory very personally, and worse, you are allowing this influence on your actual living life from people who haven’t even read Marx; e) it’s a very immature view of the world that “suffering is activism, somehow” so in addition to being ill-read, your fleas are naive, if not malicious; f) there is no level of self-abnegation you can drop to that will please the fleas, and no reward for going lower. It isn’t like speedrunning a game or something, where you get the appreciation of an audience if you finally clip through the floor. The fleas will just say, “while you’re at it, it’s awfully bourgeois of you to have a floor. Star-nosed moles don’t have any.” Okay! These are absurd conversations to have, actually! You do not have to do a whole circus to appease fleas. Performing a pantomime of your empty wallet and sad clownface, to solicit the forgiveness of an audience who apparently hate you so much that they wish you were under the floor, is a foolish use of time.

(If you find yourself engaging in flea behaviour, “yeah Greer/Elodie it would be NICE to have a couch but SOME people have only three traumas in a shopping bag!” That’s pretty normal, and doesn’t make you a bad person! I do it myself. I have never had any bloody money at all, and I get mad about it often. One immediate problem with doing this, though, is that someone will instantly tell you that they would be grateful to even have a shopping bag. The conversation does not move forward; and inevitably, if/when you get your own couch equivalent, and express a little pride in it (look how far you’ve come from just having three traumas in a shopping bag!) it will happen to you too (must be nice to totally lose sight of people who don’t even have shopping bags!) and it will be very unclear how anyone’s soul progressed from the discourse. Oppression Olympics, being circular, has no winners and no prizes.)

Next please consider that in the general context of the planet, it’s considered reasonably respectable to have a material existence, and there is a vast gulf between “having a decent couch” and “owning a megayacht,” this gulf being literal orders of magnitude of difference in resource and justice. I, politically, feel the good Earth has resource for many people to own a piece of respectable furniture, even if the good Earth does not have resource for billionaires. Surely the world we are seeking to build is something like the William Morris vision, of everyone surrounded by comfort and beauty and art; small plain humble handmade things, but made well, for everyone. Surely that’s preferential to everyone gnawing coffee grounds on the floor together. Surely the healed world we’re aiming at has room for decent couches for everybody who needs one, right? The equity we’re aiming for is everyone having access to a dignified life, often this including a couch - not having everybody on the floor.

Next, I have noticed that while the actually wealthy can do whatever the hell they like, ordinary accessible people are only forgiven for having ✨luxuries✨if we can write a grant proposal justifying them. People like us may own a gaming console; disabled people are allowed the use of cleaning agencies; people are allowed to own cars if they need them to live. Nobody can reasonably criticise the purchase of a $5,000 prosthetic leg or a £2,000 vet bill to save a pet’s life - they’re aware that they sound malicious and deranged if they do this - but they certainly feel comfortable criticising strangers on the internet for an expensive mattress that allows people to sleep without pain; expensive shoes that allow someone to walk; a mobility aid that helps someone go just a little further; a decent couch; a pet of their own, even if they aren’t wealthy; a child, even though kids are expensive; elective healthcare; a steady table and a room of one’s own -

. Do you see here how it becomes quite problematic, assigning “luxury” status to things that are to be used every day, and deciding who gets to have them, based on whether the person is easy to punch? Reflections to be had, here, on what is luxury, who is allowed to have it; why is nobody like you allowed to have what you don’t have? By what parasocial means do we decide who is allowed to have what? why do people have more energy to criticise people-like-them for finally getting a good couch, but never have any energy to say a single word about Taylor Swift’s frivolous private jet usage? What I’m driving at is how it’s usually people in the same general income bracket (the Poors) criticising each other. Who does this help? If it truly helps for (personal finance/consideration for others/mindfulness/spending habits/the environment/you to feel better) then why is this necessary and effective weapon so rarely aimed at the powerful? Commentaries on materialism are usually quite clear that they are specifically criticising materialism, excessiveness, wastefulness, consumption. How does that get transmuted in our heads to “us personally not deserving usable forks”? Much energy is wasted here, gnawing our paws bare and savaging our poor siblings, while the hand that withholds our food never gets bitten.

On that note: people, fleas and inner critics will allow the purchase of expensive hiking boots for someone who can explain that they hike a lot. I submit the ultimate solution. Purchase expensive hiking boots because you need them to walk across the top part of Spain. This is the assignment I have given you. The trails are safe, accessible, and punctuated with regular snacks; the fellowship diverse and incomparable; the pilgrim hostels can be as cheap as $7 a night; wine is $3 a glass; you can eat communal meals with fellow pilgrims, or save even more by cooking up porridge oats. I am talking about the Camino de Santiago, the famous Way, the great Christian pilgrimage, which even today convicted people in Spain may walk to receive a pardon. It doesn’t matter your faith or lack thereof; if you quest in “an attitude of search” and stamp your pilgrim passport showing you have done the minimum miles, finishing in the great glowing city of Santiago, you will receive the campostela that counts as official absolution. That’s it, the official pardon, the written intercession with God. A pilgrim by the nature of pilgrimage has sought absolution and received it. That’s what pilgrimages are! Yes, even you.

And nobody denies the importance of good hiking boots on the Way. Pilgrimages are supposed to challenge - the Camino is a spiritual hike, and with perfect serendipity and geography it nourishes you with beauty and physical exertion in the great Pyrenees mountains before throwing you brutally to confront your own soul as you march the empty plains of Spain with your own self for company - but the point is, you do them on purpose, and at the end of it, you’re forgiven. While you are doing it, you cost just a bit more money to exist than the medieval pilgrims, and burn hardly any carbon at all.

Materialism is defined as “a tendency to consider material possessions and physical comfort as more important than spiritual values.” When you are battling your fleas of materialism, are you doing it to clear room for your spiritual life? What are you putting in your empty austere inner life? It just feels like if you’re being anti-materialistic for the (very good reason) of focusing on Higher Values, then equal processing time should be spent on the More Important Values, right?

I just thought if we were being Catholic, we might as well get the benefits as well as the suffering. You know? We should also claim the way of pilgrimage, the great journey of attention and intention, at the end of which your slate is summarily wiped clean by God Themselves. You get a certificate with Latin on it, to show everyone. You get a good grade in Pilgrimage. Why not focus on that theological concept for a change: the Way of absolution. A big homework you can do. A literal modern quest with your own forgiven self at the end of it. There’s the spiritual reverse of the materialism-battling coin. If you’re going to torment yourself with spiritual guilt, just go whole hog and work for the spiritual absolution too.

I'm turning 30 this month, and for some reason have become suddenly interested in material possessions. like what if,,,,,,,,my couch was nice. what if my sheets were nice. is this what happens to you??

#I don’t expect anyone to read this but I liked the journey #the pilgrimage if you will #I guess part of what I’m getting here is that virtuous austerity and frugality and criticism #and continually pointing out one’s relative poverty and the existence of poverty #is only half the battle of anti-materialism anyway #the other half being that you’re supposed to be upholding some deeper reflections or higher values or spiritual life or something #it isn’t just pointing out how everyone is failing at hermitage and poverty #you would be rubbish medieval monk if that was your job #NOBODY HERE IS DOING A PERFECT JOB #BROTHER BRADFAEL HAD HONEY!! honey!!!#like yes well done but are you spending equal or greater time in prayer or whatever #helping others perhaps???

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peteyprecious616 · 3 years ago

Text

Heartbeats

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Summary: Being pregnant wasn't easy, especially going to parties with Bruce wasn't any easier. But he promised you a slushie before you went, so why not.

Word count: ~1k

A/N: hello everyone! I'm back kind of. I've been MIA because finals are the worst but thats fine. Ive been looking forward to writing more for bruce and some other people. I'll be writing a lot more these upcoming weeks. Thanks for sticking around. Also sorry about all the pregnant fics, but I'm gonna keep posting them until my bestie doesn't want them anymore.

Warnings: nothing really; just bruce taking care of his pregnant wife; mentions of alcohol but the reader and Bruce aren't drinking

You and Bruce got rid of the look of professionalism hours ago. Your shoulders snuggly wrapped with his broad black suit jacket that kept your sleeveless arms warm. His arm laid in between your shoulder blades gently. Your face hid in the crook of his neck. Exhausting heels dangled between his free fingers as he talked faintly to the rich person behind you. All the snobby voices blurred together as you fell in and out of sleep.

He promised you it would only be a few hours. He believed that even though these galas seemed to show nothing good to the city, he wanted to break that. He had the money; he had the resources. He was Batman.

Of course, no one knew that. But he wanted people to still trust in the city he once loved and cherished.

He also loved that you came along with him to this event. You always did, even when you knew the outcome of each meeting with another higher up. Another doctor, politician, or lawyer wanted to show up to say that they made a difference.

A quick picture snapped for evidence. They had a feeling of relief that swept through their bodies. It seeped into their fingertips when they left but a small tip for the workers. Believing they contributed to the fallen city.

Bruce left your mind to wander after a few minutes of torture that he put you through. He knew that these galas were tedious and boring. Leaving you to latch onto his coated arm after hours of words exchanged about Gotham that never seemed to happen.

You wanted the private whispers that Bruce painted across your lips and stomach as he wrapped you up in the warmth of his massive bed, providing you safety and warmness away from the stuck-up crowds that you had to endure right now.

Bruce was the only one that cared about Gotham. Words did not matter to him, only actions. That was why he pranced around at night, saving it from the worthless promises the rich seemed to preach to the hopeful citizens.

You believed he was making this city better. He wanted to help this city from falling to ruins since he expected to bring something new into it.

Someone.

A calloused hand gently rubbed over your hand that wrapped around the crook of his elbow. A soft press of lips pressed against your forehead as you heard the gentle mumbling of partings.

He pulled you towards the available table behind you, hoping to provide some stability from your sore legs,

having to hold your body up for long periods. You did it for him. But damn, was it hard. You became restless a long time ago, hoping that he would notice. He felt awful that he dragged you to this gathering. Alcohol poured from sinks as it was pretty much the only thing they served but brought you water and a bunch of snacks, trying to keep you hydrated as he pulled you through the long hallways of Gotham’s art museum.

He promised to get whatever you wanted after the party, hoping that it would give you something to look forward to,

—

“Just a slushie. Please, Bruce,” you begged as he walked you towards the Cadillac, pulling you away from the comforts of the mansion.

He smiled. Your soft lips coaxed him with a smile, believing you had to convince him. You knew that he would give you anything you asked. You were giving him a child. The least he could do is gift you with a slushie.

You deserved the world.

He heard your faint please, as it pulled him from the depths of your delicate glow that bled from your eyes. A smile grew on his lips effortlessly, laying his hands on top of your radiant cheeks, pushing the hair behind your ears. His lips rested by your ear as he whispered in the evening light,

"Anything you want, I promise,"

He would whisper a thousand Thank yous to the sky above and in your ear when he brought you home tonight.

---

"What do you need?" he made eye contact with your tired gaze. He knew it was getting late.

"Nothing, I just want you, Bruce," you murmured. You wanted to go home with your husband. You craved to curl up next to him in bed, his hand resting over your stomach, caressing your aching body as you fell asleep with his lips resting against your forehead, kissing you goodnight, praying for a peaceful sleep. Hoping small kicks to your stomach from the child that kept you up for hours would rest with you.

Bruce grabbed the keys before you could even say please. He took your hand, pulling you towards his chest as he walked you through the crowds of people. The valet already pulling up with the car, laying you on the leather seat, adjusting the seatbelt across your body before he walked to the driver's side to drive off.

The blinding street lights kept you from falling into a deep sleep, you felt the car pull into a drive-through, a mumble of your favorite flavored slushie came from his lips, and a small smile appeared on your tired face. You kept your eyes closed until you felt him kiss your temple gently, a sense of calm enveloped the car as you woke. You saw his thin smile grace his cheeks. The small dimples that only a few people have seen slowly showed.

People didn't see his heart often, only you witnessing the richest man in Gotham professing his love to you in the air around you. In the most hidden parts of the world, in the mansion, against your stomach, he longed to take care of you. The softest touches from him at night to you, even as brutal as Gotham sees him.

When he heard your giggles echo in his car, he felt the condensation of the drink drip on his hands. He knew, at this moment, that you were happy. In this cruel city, filled with heartless criminals, and senses of false hope he knew your happiness was the most important thing to him.

The world didn't care about him, but you did, So if you wanted him to travel to the nearest restaurant to grab you a slushie, he would do it in a heartbeat because it made you happy.

#batman #i love bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #batman x you #batman x reader #<3 #battinson #the batman 2022 #the batman

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writingfics-passingtime · 3 years ago

Text

Playing the Part

~8300 words of steamy Loki tickle fluff

PG13 for this one, kids. Lots of making out.

CW: some swearing, suggestive humour, mentions of murder/death, alcohol consumption

Every job has its ups and downs, and every employee their good days and not-so-good days. You’d hardly classify yourself as an employee because you didn’t get a paycheque, your entire occupation was a hazard unto itself, human-resources was punching it out on the sparring mat and your boss was either a 100-year-old super soldier or an eccentric billionaire, depending on the day and who was wearing what suit.

Wait… should I be getting paid for this?

Looking around your room that you paid no rent on, in a multi-billion dollar superhero compound, you decided that wasn’t a question you were ever going to ask. The question of the hour was which dress would best conceal your thigh-holstered gun.

Today, your job entailed one of those tasks that could be fun if you decided it would be, or hell if you had a bad attitude about it. You prided yourself on always being up for any mission, so that answered that question, though infiltrating some black-tie gala undercover was never as exciting as fighting alien forces.

You gave up feeling guilty about being a little excited when Earth faced threats long ago; no one had to know that impending planetary destruction was your favourite kind of mission to help out on.

Selecting a red strapless dress from the middle of your mission closet (which was differentiated because most of these dresses were bulletproof) you slipped it on over your underwear and thigh holster. A knock came at your door as you were reaching behind yourself to zip it up.

“Come in!”

“Agent, we- oh… Oh.” Loki’s featured turned from surprised to playfully smug in a matter of seconds.

“Can you get this zipper?” You winced at the stuck metal. He nodded and approached, you turned and held the fabric up. Before he even made it halfway to you he gave a brief wave of his hand and used his magic to unstick the zipper, bringing it to the top.

“Thanks,” you smiled, familiar with that particular kind of help from Loki. “Can you see my gun?” You did a little spin and he shook his head. “Great. You look nice," you commented, gesturing to his impeccable black suit.

“As do you.”

“Ready?”

”I suppose there are worse charades to play on a Saturday evening. Ones that don’t include fine wine and the prospect of a tussle with a Midgardian security man.”

You shot him a look as you two walked towards the garage together. “You said no Midgardian wine could be classed as fine.”

“Save for one region in Italy, I’ve discovered.” Loki shrugged, tightening the fastener on his cuff link.

You gave him a mock look of shock. “Are you telling me… you were wrong?“

“Smugness is not becoming, Agent,” Loki playfully warned.

“Hmm,” you narrowed your eyes. “Looks like I’m spending too much time with you.”

You bickered and bantered good-naturedly as you entered the garage, which was more like a hangar but only for cars. This mission would be you, Loki, Natasha, Sam and, strangely enough, Tony wanted to drive the van. He gave some excuse about wanting to test some new equipment and spend time with his team. Though you knew it was because Pepper wanted him to attend her aunt’s seventieth birthday, and Tony had a long-standing feud with that particular aunt ever since she went on a forty-five minute tirade about how much she hated Led Zeppelin. You weren’t sure if it was the sentiment behind it, or the fact that she could talk for forty-five minutes straight without the awareness to stop. Either way, Tony was on the job tonight.

“Black Widow is already onsite,“ Tony handed you three some photos as you entered and took your seats. “Your names are on the door, fake ones obviously, here they are.” Tony pulled up some information on the screens and then commanded the self-driving van to go with a few taps at a holographic control centre.

You went over the plan, the objective, who to avoid at all costs, where the gun was supposedly hidden. There was a gun used in a murder of a journalist - the employee of an old friend of Tony's, a young guy working on an exposé of a filthy-rich family dynasty in New York City. The journalist was sure the McDane family money came from arms dealing, but he was found dead just a few short months after he started investigating. The following week, Charles, the charming and likeable newly-married eldest son of the family, announced his run for mayor.

Whether Charlie McDane ordered the murder, or if he didn't even know it happened, Tony's source said this family kept trophies of their victories and the murder weapon would most definitely still be in the house.

On the face of it, it was an unusual assignment for the Avengers. If you didn't think that hard about it, you could have just sent Nat in alone. However, the McDane family was even more powerful than they loved to show on the surface, and this wouldn't be a simple theft. Hence, a small team was going in to avenge the fallen journalist.

Natasha had been planted on the inside, posing as an event manager for a soirée the family was hosting to celebrate Charlie’s birthday and, since he’d invited everyone in the political and social scene, it was the perfect chance to enter the mansion; there’s no way he’d know who each and every person was and should be.

As you walked down the road with your arm slotted through Loki's, you eyed the metal detectors at the front entrance. You gripped his arm and slid your hand into the pocket of your dress, but the pocket was hollow and only existed as easy way to grab your gun. Wordlessly, you passed it to Loki and he concealed it with his magic in the exact same way you planned to smuggle the murder weapon out later that evening.

Maybe it was Loki's elegance or your years of training that started when you were very young, but the way you two could instinctively weave around each other's thoughts, ideas and actions without so much as a glance was something special you didn't take for granted. You both had keen senses, but there was some kind of unexplainable energy that made them align perfectly.

You never let your mind wander on nights like these. On missions. Perhaps if you were less professional you'd take a moment to fantasise about what it would actually be like to go to a party with Loki. If the way he led you through the room with a gentle hand at your waist was more than a ploy to look like an adoring couple, or if he knew your favourite wine because he cared, instead of just having heard you order it a million times before.

He kept things light with jokes and little jabs, never once crossing a boundary when fake-flirting with you, but it wasn't lost on you that it was unusual to have this kind of working relationship that had all of the chemistry with none of the awkwardness. It was almost as if it was second nature now for him to pull you a little closer when you were in a nice dress, considering you'd only worn them in front of him on missions. And so he did pull you closer as you approached the bouncer to give your names.

You spied Nat at the front, leaning around a security guard's shoulder to point to something on his list. She always played her parts so well. She stole a glance at you and Loki through her fake glasses and that was it. No indication she knew you, no special treatment, no way she'd do anything to blow this. She walked up the outdoor staircase as you gave your aliased names to the guard and flashed fake drivers licenses that were pretty much real, considering the government had created them.

Loki declined the arrival champagne for the both of you, immediately leading you to the bar. You looked at him as if to remind him that you weren't here to drink, and his subtle smirk replied that he didn't care. He ordered two glasses of a merlot from the one region in Italy that'd won his respect, passing the glass to you once it was laid on the bar.

"To the finer things," he cheers'ed your glass and you scoffed with a laugh, taking a sip of the wine. The rich flavour burst through your mouth. It was dark and deep, spiced with... with... "Cedar," he offered, reading the analysis on your face. "Rosewood, cedar and some sort of stone-fruit."

"Nectarine."

He smiled and took another sip. "We don't have that on Asgard."

"This wine is good," you nodded as you two turned and deconstructed the room and all of its guests.

It made you kind of sick seeing all of these wealthy people in one place pretending to give a damn about Charlie McDane's birthday. It's not that you liked the guy, not at all, it just felt weird to know that every person in here was the exact kind of person you hunted down. Power-hungry. This mansion may as well be a lion's den. But full of naïve lions, who had no idea two apex predators just walked in.

Just when you started wondering how many people in your line of sight had also committed murder to protect their wealth and power, you saw Natasha give a subtle signal of which way the room with the safe was. Loki saw it too.

It was upstairs, but there wasn't much cover to get upstairs. The great foyer's ceiling was three stories up, the two floors above the ground floor you were on had square balconies that let the people upstairs peer downwards into the masses. Nat's fingers adjusting her hair told you that the room was on the second floor. Thankfully, there were guests on the second floor. Under the guise of admiration for the architecture and a desire to explore the great house, you pointed out works of art to Loki as you ascended the stairs together. When you walked past Natasha she smiled politely, like a good host, and asked if you were enjoying the wine.

"It's most divine. Though, I believe my beloved may be in search of a room to powder her nose."

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual choice of asking for information if you weren't aware that security's eyes were everywhere. Even on the event manager.

"You might find what you need up the stairs, down the first hall, third door on your right."

The way her hands were motioning didn't match her hushed description, so you followed the instructions in her voice instead of the way her hands were telling you.

You allowed Loki to lead you upstairs, down the first hall. When you two were certain there were no eyes, he concealed you two with his magic. The hallway was darkened. He pressed his hand against the lock and unfastened it with an unseen pure magic and you two slipped inside. It was a large office with grand mahogany furniture, decorated exactly as you'd expect Old Money Americans to decorate their office. Right down to the bear head above the fireplace and the first edition novels sitting proudly on the shelf, probably unread by their owners. That also made you a little sick: great words sitting unread as trophies.

Scanning the room for any obvious signs of the safe, your eyes settled on a panel in the wood on the side of the desk. There was a slightly smaller gap in the wood on one side, indicating hinges. You held your hands up to Loki and he conjured thin gloves to grace your fingers, then you pressed gently on the wood to engage the latch. The panel swung open to reveal the safe. Shifting out of the way, Loki took your place and placed a gloved hand on the dial. In less than three seconds, it spun rapidly in each direction before clicking open.

"We should really consider robbing banks," you whispered as the black metal door swung open and you were met with stacks of paper and envelopes.

"Need I remind you I am a Prince? If it's gold you want, darling, say the word."

"Eh," you shrugged, feeling around for the gun. "I meant more for the thrills."

Loki chuckled as your fingers found a familiar-feeling package. You pulled the envelope out and peered inside before showing Loki the sight of a small pistol. He nodded and took it from you carefully, then concealed it in some unknown magical space close to him.

You closed the safe carefully and then your gloves disappeared. Moving quietly back to the door, you listened for several moments to make sure no one was coming. Then, you both slid out and began walking down the hall like a loving couple.

Suddenly, a guard appeared at the end of the hallway. Thinking fast, you opened the closest door to you and pushed Loki inside. There was a shout you vaguely heard before you shut and locked the door again.

"Shit," you hissed. You were in someone's bedroom. Or maybe it was a guest room, considering how clean and un-lived-in it looked. There was a fireplace, like in the office, and a large four-poster bed against one wall. In the middle of the room were two plush couches that faced each other and were side-on to the door. You two walked over to them to get the vantage of being in the centre of the room and quickly searched for an exit.

"I'll cast an illusion," Loki whispered, ready to wave his hands and make it look as if you two weren't here.

"No!" You whispered, eyes wide. "They already saw us come in here. If we disappear, they'll know something's up and lock the place down."

"Then what do you propose?" He held his hands out, annoyingly unbothered by the prospect of blowing a mission. The doorknob twisted and you both snapped your heads towards it, then back at each other.

"Sit," you hissed and shoved him back onto the sofa right behind him. He stumbled and fell with a small indignant noise of surprise. You heard the tinkling of keys and your heart beat in your chest.

"Agent?"

Knowing the security team was about to enter, you acted fast. "I'll never hear the end of this," you mumbled before sliding forward to straddle his lap. His eyebrows shot up his forehead as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and looked at him with nervous urgency. "Kiss me."

Loki didn't question it, and he certainly didn't need to be told twice. His hands found their place. One at the small of your back, one firmly gripping the hair at the nape of your neck. Then, he pulled you in for a fiery kiss.

You barely heard the door open as you lost yourself in the strength of his hold, the steady and eager grasp with which he held you. His hands found their places as if they'd been there a thousand times before, as if he knew exactly how you'd feel the safest, feel the most desired. You pulled him deeper by the back of his neck and could have sworn he made a small noise of satisfaction.

Oh no.

He kept kissing you, you kept kissing him, even after the head of the security team had cleared his throat a number of times. As much as you knew you'd already sold it, and boy you sold it well, you couldn't bring yourself to pull away. Were all Asgardians this good at kissing, or was it just Loki?

Oh. No.

"HEY!"

The sudden loud command pulled you away and, much to your internal mortification, you didn't need to feign how flustered you were.

"O-oh my," you squeaked and looked up at the man, blushing profusely.

Okay, the squeak was fake, but it felt almost real.

You stayed put where you were straddling Loki's lap and grimaced when you saw Natasha, still in character, entering the room. "What's going on, I need you downstairs to- oh!" She looked a little taken aback by your position atop the prince who, you were fuming to see from the corner of your eye, had the audacity to be smirking.

"My apologies," Loki drawled in his growly regal voice, trailing his hands around to your sides. "I simply couldn't control myself, seeing my queen in this dress..." He punctuated it with an "Mmph" and a firm squeeze at your hips. You flinched and squirmed a bit under the ticklish touch, trying to keep your composure but letting a small giggle slip out. Then, catching the pleased and mischievous glint in his eye, you dug your nails into the back of his shoulder to warn him off trying that again.

"This room's off limits," the guard tilted his head towards the door and you made to move your way off of Loki's lap. Instead, with his incredible strength, he stood with his hands still at your hips, lifting you to your feet before turning and wrapping an arm around your waist.

He looked the guard up and down, "Of course, good sir." You bit your lip and blushed, cowering in Loki's hold as you exited the room together. Nat smirked at you and winked before proceeding to fall back into character and tell the guards there was a belligerent drunk man downstairs needing to be kicked out. That man would be Wilson, who was playing his part as tipsy distraction.

Loki led you down the hall and you rounded a corner, then you broke off from him and held a hand to your chest. "That was too close," you breathed deeply once, then met his eye. You glared when he saw him smirking at you.

"Do I have lipstick on my face?" He asked, feigning worry.

"Oh, shut up," you swatted his shoulder. "I did what I had to do."

"I never knew you had the passion in you, Agent," Loki smirked again. You glared once more and peeked around the corner, only to jump and hold in a yelp as Loki's pinching fingers found your hip. "I also never knew you were so ticklish."

"That's not something people advertise- cut it ouhout!" You swatted his hand and squirmed away from him as he prodded his fingers into your side. "We have the gun, let's get out of here."

"Tsk, you're no fun," Loki scoffed.

You exited the party and made your way down the block towards the van, knowing that Nat's glasses had broadcast at least the last part of your little tussle with Loki. Steeling yourself as you gripped the handle, you reminded yourself that you were a professional, and this was sometimes a hazard of the job. You needed to play it cool when the eventual teasing came.

"Hey, lovebirds," Tony quipped the second he saw your faces.

"Hey," you chuckled, stepping inside and removing your heels the second you found your seat. "We got it."

"Here," Loki closed the door behind him and pulled the enveloped gun from the magical space he'd hidden it. "So you saw the Agent's display of passion, did you?"

"You wound me, Loki," you deadpanned. "I thought we had a mutual connection."

Perhaps those words were a mistake considering all the truth behind them. However, all the best lies were founded on truth, and for now you needed to convince everyone in the van that you weren't totally freaking out because you'd felt the most passionate attraction you'd had in years with a former villain. I mean... how predictable.

Loki looked at you suspiciously as he took his seat, but something in his gaze told you he wasn't going to prod deeper on this. Not right now, at least. Not in front of everyone.

Nat and Sam joined the fray five minutes later and you all got a move-on back to the Compound. Nat poked more fun at the position she'd found you two in, and you laughed good-naturedly at all their jokes. Loki was uncharacteristically silent, and seemed to always be looking at you when you laughed and instinctively checked to see if he was laughing too.

The jokes shifted to Sam and the wine he spilled down his shirt, then the conversation shifted to the next steps of what to do with the gun, then you all arrived back.

Tony got to work dismantling his rig, declining your help, and so you took your field weapons over to the cabinet to put them back in their places. As you were unclipping the magazine from your pistol, you felt a presence behind the door. You peered around to see Loki.

"What's up?" You raised your eyebrows and snapped the case shut, then closed the door.

He looked at you meaningfully, quizzically, but didn't say anything.

"Okay..." you chuckled uncomfortably and put the latch on the door in place. "I'm going to shower."

You made to walk past him but he grabbed your upper arm, stopping you by his side. Facing different ways, he leaned in a little closer and spoke quietly. "I can spot a lie from lightyears away."

Turning to look at him, you'd probably have been caught off-guard by how close his face was if it hadn't been for the events of earlier. You shrugged, pulling your arm from his grasp. "I didn't lie."

He scoffed and also turned to look at you, eyes flitting once down to your lips, then back up to pierce your gaze with his. "You know what I meant."

You were proud of how composed you kept yourself when you shrugged again and kept walking, swallowing hard.

This wasn't supposed to happen.

Never one to waste water, you took an uncharacteristically long shower. Haphazardly smearing face wash over your skin to scrub the makeup off, scrub away the flustered energy. But no amount of scrubbing could help you forget the feeling of his kiss, and shampooing the hairspray from your head only made you remember the feeling of his fingers in your hair.

You reminded yourself that it had been a very long time since you'd kissed someone. You were probably just desperate, definitely a little touch-starved in general, so the fact that it was Loki didn't matter as much as the fact that it had happened.

That's what you told yourself over and over as you threw on sweatpants and a soft long-sleeved shirt. It was cold and the marble floors could be unforgiving, so you thought it best to go for fluffy socks, but then pulled some slippered boots over the top. You didn't bother brushing your wet hair, letting it fall where it wanted as you made your way to the kitchen.

"That smells good," you commented as Nat pulled some dish out of the oven.

"Mmm," she agreed with an excited smile. "Nico is my favourite," she admitted slyly, referring to one of the chefs Pepper would call in to prepare a bunch of heatable meals during busy periods. Delivery app drivers would probably cancel the order if you tried, thinking it must be a joke that a super solider was asking for a Big Mac to be delivered to the Avengers Compound. Besides, by the time it was scanned and made sure to not contain a deadly poison, it would be cold and stale. "There's enough for you too," Nat said, pulling out another plate and serving you a steaming slice of vegetarian lasagne.

"Thanks," you smiled, still a little distracted. Of course, with someone as perceptive as Nat, that wouldn't be allowed to slip by.

She leaned against the counter and poked at her meal, not meeting your eye to keep it less direct. "You alright?"

"Hmm?" You looked up, and so did she, then you looked back down to your food and shrugged. It was no use lying to her. "I think I'm lonely," you laughed humourlessly, nervously, sadly.

"The kiss got to you," she said knowingly, placing her fork down to give you her full attention. You didn't return the favour, nervous about what you'd say if you were really talking about this. Which, as long as you were here eating dinner, you weren't really talking about it.

"It's not like I haven't kissed a fellow Agent before to keep cover," you sighed a little, shaking your head. "It's just been a while, I guess, since I've had... anything... or, someone."

"I get that," she nodded, picking up her fork again. You two ate in silence for several moments. "This is really good," she declared through an extra-large mouthful. You chuckled and nodded, swallowing another bite. After several more moments, she said quietly, "It's okay if you felt something."

That made you choke a bit. Noticeably, unfortunately. You shook your head, but didn't deny it. "No. It's not okay."

"Why not?" She asked as if you were crazy.

"It's not okay," you repeated firmly, stabbing your fork again at the lasagna. "It's not."

Before she could attempt to pry for more information, Thor and Loki entered the kitchen together. Great.

"Good evening," Thor beamed a toothless smile.

"There's more in the fridge if you're hungry," you looked up at them in an attempt to not seem as regressed in on yourself as you felt. Thor looked at your plate and nodded in approval, opening the fridge. Then you looked at Loki, fully expecting to see some kind of calculating stare as before, but his expression was soft. He looked you over, probably noticing your out-of-character hunched posture and the way your head hung a little lower than usual, and he gave you a look that was subtly laced with sympathy.

Now that made your blood boil. Who was he to feel sorry for you?

He seemed to notice the way your jaw clenched under his gaze, and opened his mouth to say something but Thor spoke first.

"There's a film Stark wants us all to watch this evening."

Nat chuckled, finishing off her dinner. "You say that like he's showing us training videos. He's just trying to bond the team over some cheesy nineties movie." She looked at you and nodded to your clothes. "You look ready for a movie night."

Before you could explain that you'd rather go to bed, Thor beamed again. "Excellent, then! We'll all be there."

Thor was always kind to you, so you didn't want to disappoint him over something so inconsequential. You smiled warmly at him and nodded. "I'm gonna go claim a good spot," you excused yourself, aware it was almost time for it to start. You quickly did your dishes and left the kitchen, making sure to get a seat on a large armchair so you made it clear you'd rather have some personal space right now, even though it was the exact opposite of what you wanted. Maybe it would be good for you though, to remember that you were alone for a reason. That this life you chose wasn't kind too love.

Gods, love. Why did you think of that word, of all the ones out there. You were spiralling. Sentiment, you corrected yourself with a swift reprimand. Sentiment, loneliness, desperation.

You busied yourself chatting to Wanda as people filtered in, taking note of how she seamlessly wove herself in and around Vision as they sat on a two-seater next to you. Determined not to look at or think of Loki or romance or kissing or anything like that, you trained your eyes on the screen as the movie started.

But you spiralled.

There were these two main characters in the movie with this undeniable bickering co-worker chemistry that reminded you of Loki, the jokes he’d whisper into your ear during meetings, the harmless mischief he’d pull to make you laugh, the way his hand felt at your lower back- NO. You couldn’t think about that.

Wanda and Vision were in your line of sight from the corner of your eye and you saw her fingers lace through his, you then saw him place a silent kiss on the crown of her head. Biting down on your tongue, you remembered Nat and Bruce, Pepper and Tony, Thor and Jane, Clint and Laura. All those people who seemed to find love, even temporary love, in the midst of all this madness.

So maybe it wasn’t this life. Maybe it was just… you.

Biting your tongue a little harder, you reminded yourself how powerless you were compared to all these super-people. Sure, many of them were human like you, but all the other humans seemed to have someone who loved them.

It felt hopeless, knowing the only person in this room who you wanted close was so extraordinarily out of your league. He was a god. You were a human. Your life was a flicker compared to his, of course he’d never waste time indulging the likes of you.

But it felt real.

Halfway through the movie you decided you couldn’t sit there and see these buddy-cop characters fall in love. You couldn’t watch Wanda and Vision so enamoured with each other. What you needed was to hit something hard, and then go to sleep. So you excused yourself without a word or a glance at anyone. It was late, anyway. You weren’t even the first one to leave.

A turn of a black-haired form told you that Loki noticed you leaving, but the lack of footsteps behind you as you walked down the silent hall told you that he hadn’t followed you.

Slipping into your room and then into some workout clothes, you jammed your headphones into your ears and put on some classical music; you weren't sure you could stand to hear any words right now. You laced your shoes a little tighter than normal and practically sprinted to the gym, very unwilling to have anyone notice you were gone and decide to come check on you.

Hitting the bag felt good. It was the perfect consolation prize for what you'd actually prefer right now, but with every crushing of your knuckles against the thick canvas you found it easier to forget how it felt to have your fingers looped through his hair. The sweat dripping down your face replaced the feeling of his breath against your skin when you'd broken the kiss, and the aching in your obliques from your tensing and turning to hit the bag took the place of any memory of his hands at your waist. The aching was here, and he was almost gone.

After a half-hour of interval sprints, it was just past midnight and you were exhausted. Not knowing how you felt about no one coming to check on you, you traipsed back to your room in silence. The faint echoing of your footsteps through the hallways made you quiet yourself further, stepping as lightly as you could to prove to yourself that you were still a good spy. Good spies don't get caught up with feelings. Your footsteps fell, dead quiet, and you regained some confidence.

Your muscles stung the next morning but in a delightful way. You'd treated yourself to another hot shower when you got back to your room, so this morning it would probably be best to have an icy one.

As the cold water hit your skin, you felt okay again. The boxing and running last night had really shaken everything out of you, only the smallest lingering of lonely desire remained and it could easily be ignored. Of course, that was easy to say. The second you walked into the kitchen to see that Loki had heard you coming and poured you a coffee you felt a tug at your chest.

His hands closed around the mug to pass it to you and you remembered how his fingers had closed around your waist. He smiled good morning and you remembered how his lips felt against yours. Holding it all in, you smiled and took the coffee, then proceeded to have a short conversation with him like a normal person would. He made jokes about last night, but not about that, and you chuckled at them. After perhaps too short a time for how long you usually chatted, you excused yourself to go do some paperwork. You caught the way his brow furrowed a little, but he didn't question you.

The next few days were more or less like this. You'd try to engage with Loki normally but spiral a little more, convincing yourself that the more you continued like you always had, the more normal things would be again. But he was just so... beautiful. Everything about him was beautiful and now you couldn't help but notice.

One evening, nearly a week after you'd kissed, you were having a bit of a vulnerable day and you walked into the kitchen for some ice cream. Loki had just finished cleaning up after his dinner and turned to say hello, but you couldn't do it. You just turned and walked right back out again. He called after you but you didn't stop. It's not like you were going to cry in front of him, but you just couldn't do this right now.

Seeking refuge in your bedroom, you shut the door and slid down to the floor with your back against it. An immediate soft knock frustrated you, especially knowing who it probably was. You sighed and stood.

“Hey,” you greeted Loki with a nod when you opened the door, immediately turning away to make it look like you were about to do something else. “What’s up?”

Loki stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, which made you stop and give him your attention. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied.

He squinted for the faintest second and smiled a little sadly. “Light years,” he reminded you how he could spot a lie without harshly calling you out. It pained you that he didn’t. That his lack of sarcasm indicated that he saw you as a bit fragile right now.

You sighed a little and ducked your head to the side, conceding the point. “I’m a little haywire,” you admitted. “I think I need to get some stress out and go to sleep.”

”What troubles you?”

Ah. What a question.

You didn’t want to shut him out, but you certainly didn’t know how to explain that one simple kiss undercover had brought a massive crashing wave of insecurity and anxiety that made you feel completely unlovable. Or... maybe you could just say that?

You were silent for so long that Loki spoke again.

“I’d like to offer my apologies,” he said very diplomatically. “If I overstepped the bounds of our relationship.”

“I’m the one that made you kiss me,” you winced. “I should be apologising.”

”I didn’t mean that,” Loki shook his head. “I meant after, when we returned. When I cornered you.”

You had to laugh. “You didn’t corner me, Loki. I appreciate you wanting to make me feel better but you have nothing to apologise for.”

”Very well. But you didn’t make me,” he replied firmly.

“I know, I know…” you rolled your eyes. “A god submits to no one, I just meant that I put you in a situation that I shouldn’t have. Believe me, I’m paying the price.”

That last part came out a little faster than you’d intended it to. In fact, you didn’t really mean to say that last part out loud at all. Or maybe you did. What a perfect Freudian Slip. Quickly collecting yourself, you spotted your headphones and went to pick them up but noticed that Loki was taking slow steps towards you.

”Paying the price?” He asked carefully. You stopped and folded your arms, shrugging.

“People poke fun, you know.” You bit your tongue. Then, you saw him smirk a little. Ah. Lightyears.

“I thought we had a mutual connection,“ he raised his eyebrows, teasing you with your joke from That Night. You gave him a firm stare, but couldn’t help but notice he wasn’t that far away now.

“Loki, that was-“

“A thinly veiled truth,” he interjected, leaving no room for debate. He also left very little room between the two of you. You opened your mouth to respond, seemed to not be able to, and he smirked at your speechlessness.

"Y-you can't." You shook your head. "There's no way."

"There's no way, what?" A smiled tugged at his lips at the way your eyes widened when he took a strand of your hair and wrapped it once around his finger.

"... Mutual?"

“Now that we won’t be interrupted…” he brought his hand up next to his face, flourished it, and you heard your door’s lock click shut. You held your breath as a mischievous grin graced his lips.

Oh gods, you were looking at his lips. You couldn't seem to look away.

He lowered his voice to a gruff whisper. “Might we finish what we started?”

With the smallest nod of your head, he immediately ducked his head to press his lips against yours. Your small noise of surprise made him pull away for a second and grin, before he playfully growled and lifted you from the ground. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he walked a few steps and firmly shoved your back against the wall. Your breath hitched as his hand found that place at the back of your neck, and this time, you kissed him. Eagerly, hungrily, feeling so overwhelmingly euphoric that this was even happening.

It had to be a dream, you thought as his lips trailed along your jawline, his hot breath hit your neck and his strong unwavering arms kept you above the ground and level with his gaze. He kissed you not just like a god or a great lover - he kissed you like he wanted you. Like he‘d also been waiting to do this for an unspeakable amount of time. It felt like relief.

Pulling you both back from the wall, Loki's lips didn’t relent as your fingers tangled once again in his hair. He walked backwards and found his seat on the end of your bed, sitting with you in his lap as he had at the party.

“Gods, you enrapture me,“ he pulled away, a little breathless. He grinned and his eyes were hazy. He looked at you intensely before looking back at your lips, subconsciously slipping out his tongue to wet his own. Before you could respond, he was kissing you again. You could have melted into his touch. In fact, you were fairly certain you just might.

He leaned back and you both fell onto the bed, you on top of him. You laughed at the sudden impact and you pulled away for a few seconds to catch your breath. You looked at his adoring gaze and blushed. “I never thought someone like you could want someone like me.”

He furrowed his brow, unsure if you were about to reference his nefarious past.

”You’re so… mighty. You’re a Prince, a god, you’re wickedly smart and powerful and… and I’m just a human.”

“Watch your tongue,” Loki scolded somewhat seriously and held you a little tighter. “Don’t speak of yourself as if you’re insignificant.”

You rolled your eyes and smiled, giving him a look. “You know what I mean.”

“Of course I do, I’m wickedly smart,” he smirked and you playfully swatted at his chest. He smiled contentedly and ran his hands firmly down your sides to settle at your hips. It was an innocent romantic gesture, one to position you for further making-out with Loki, but your eyes widened at the memory of his discovery the previous weekend and the assumption that the God of Mischief was about to turn the tables.

Unluckily for you, your flustered expression rendered it a self-fulfilling prophesy.

“Loki…” You warned as you saw the glint in his eye.

“That’s right…” His smirk widened to a devilish grin.

”How about you keep kissing me, huh?” You laughed nervously and leaned in closer. Loki laughed and nodded, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of your neck as you pressed your lips to his. Once your arms were around his neck, he deepened the kiss and rolled over, putting you underneath him. Still on the edge of the bed, your feet barely skimmed the floor. Then, he suddenly became the classic Loki you knew.

“Mmmhmhm!” You whined and giggled a little into the kiss as the fingers belonging to his arm around your waist started ever so gently scratching at your side. “Mmnnoho!” You broke away and gave him a pouting look. He lifted his head and smirked.

Gods. He’d never looked so unspeakably hot.

Messy curls framing his face, that look he gave you that said You’re In Trouble in his distinct Loki way, mixed with the desire in his piercing blue eyes; you’d gladly endure his torture if it meant he looked at you like that.

But maybe that’s because you had no idea what was coming.

“Darling,” he cocked his head and kissed your cheek before kissing just below your ear. “I am the God of Mischief….“ he kissed your neck in a way that you were sure was intended to tickle. You giggled and bit your lip. “And now that I've got my hands on you, you simply cannot expect me to not exploit this little weakness to its fullest extent.”

“L-Loki!” You blushed at the very real threat and he chuckled.

“How about you guide me, hmm? Where should I start?”

“I’m not playing this game,” you laughed nervously, squirming a bit underneath him and resting your hands on his shoulders to push away the ticklish kisses.

“Aw, come now,” he lifted his head and that same beautiful smirk made your heart beat quick. His hand behind your neck slid down under your shoulder blade until it sat at your upper ribs. You stole a glance down to where it may be, even though you couldn’t see it. He cocked his head again. “No? Alright, I’ll choose.” With a wink his thumb slipped around the side and up into the hollow under your arm.

“LOKI!” You gasped, clamped your arm down from instinct and immediately started squirming and giggling, even though his thumb wasn’t even moving. He grinned again and kissed your lips once more.

“You've been down all week, love. Let's have a bit of fun,” he whispered, then sprang his hand at your waist into action, scratching and grabbing at the soft skin hidden beneath your shirt. You gasped again and started laughing softly, then squeaked when his thumb started wiggling into the hollow under your arm.

"NOHOHO!" You shut your eyes and then squealed loudly when his fingers underneath you began clawing into the back of your uppermost ribs. Damnit, you thought he may start easy on you, not go for three different places at once. You were already in a desperate cackle, bubbling incoherent pleas spilling from your lips as you writhed underneath his amused self.

"I'm honestly delighted you're so ticklish," Loki teased with a chuckle. "It's adorable, really. So professional all the time, yet..." He finished his sentence by intensifying his touch and speed at all three sites of attack, drawing a small shriek from your laughing lips and a jolt from your body. "Has it always been this easy to undo you?"

“OHMYGOHOD!” You shrieked, throwing your head against the bed and trying to buck your upper body against him to no avail. He paused his torture and kissed you deeply again, lips curled into a smile as he pressed his lips to yours. You shook your head and broke away, still laughing. “Youhou’re ridiculous! We were hahaving such a nice moment and y-you ruined ihit,” you whimpered. He kissed to again to silence your complaints.

“What did you expect?”

“I-I expected a nice romantic moment!” You laughed and brought both arms between you and him to shove at his shoulders. “Now,” you gave him a stern look. “Do you want to tickle me, or kiss me? You can only choose one.”

He scoffed. “I don’t do ultimatums, darling.”

“You do now.”

“Bold.“ He stuck his tongue against his cheek then ducked his head to the side in consideration. He then looked at your face, which you’d been attempting to hold in some semblance of a firm glare. He lowered his lips to your ear and you heard him chuckle once. “Far too bold for someone so ticklish.”

He whipped his arms out from under you and pressed his weight down again, trapping your arms between your bodies as he clawed into the front and sides of your lowest ribs.

“NOHOAHAH!” You immediately fell into desperate belly-laughter as his fingers drilled and clawed into the spaces between your bones. Your feet kicked helplessly, merely grazing the ground as laughter kept spilling from you. “NOHO! NO! LOKIHI I CAHAN’T!” He shifted his hands further up your ribcage and snuck his fingers around to dig in at the back and, after one more shriek, your laughter went silent. It was trapped in your chest as his squeezing and vibrating fingers found every sensitive space on your ribs that made you want to melt into a little puddle. You were gasping for air by the time he halted his attack, squeaking and wheezing as you tried to regain your breath.

It was torture, but you hoped he wouldn’t ask you if it was worth enduring to have him this close. If he could spot a lie from lightyears away, how much easier could he spot it when he was close enough for you to see the flecks of green in his eyes.

”You’re… you’re gonna kill me,” you hiccoughed. He smirked and leaned in for another kiss. “Nuh-uh,” you pulled your finger up as much as you could from where your arms were trapped. “You made your choice.”

He grinned and slid his hands down your sides with a wink, "Oh? Then I'll gladly continue."

"W-w-wait! I dihidn't th-WAHAIT!"

His thumbs drilled relentlessly into your hips as Loki joined in with your loud laughter. You finally managed to wiggle your arms out from where they were trapped at your chest, shooting them down to grab at his fingers. Your feet having no traction and his near entire weight pressing you to the bed made it impossible to buck or lift any part of your torso, so you were completely trapped with nowhere to go as he gripped and grabbed at the skin of your hips, kneading at the pressure points that made you squeak and squirm beneath him.

When he tired of your fingers trying to grab his, he did a devilish swift lift of his own body and slotted his hands between the two of you, settling them palms-down over the majority of your belly. You made a huge gasping noise and started frantically giggling and squealing even before he'd moved his hands. You shook your head and begged for him to kiss you instead, nervous high-pitched giggles interlacing your words.

"N-noho, Loki just kihiss me, kiss me plehease! PLEASE!" You squeaked, cupping his cheeks and gently pulling him towards you. He chuckled and grinned, gently digging a few fingers in just once. You thrashed and renewed your struggling and squealing efforts. "Dohon't you DAHARE! I won't kiss you agahain if you do this!" You threatened. He cocked his head and leaned in a little closer to look deep into your eyes. Then, he grinned and whispered:

"Lightyears."

You thought for certain you'd pass out from laughter when Loki's fingers sprang into action and rippled against your hypersensitive stomach. You laughed loudly, completely powerless to stop his fingers from digging in wherever they pleased. After not much time at all, your laughter went silent and you weakly batted at his shoulders, sides, face, anything your hands could find for themselves since your eyes were shut so tight. Any words your brain even began to think of forming got lost as laughter ripped through your chest from the electric intensity of his fingers against your body.

When your hands finally found both sides of his face, you used all the energy you had left to press your laughing lips against his and, finally, he relented. You fell back with a loud gasp as he retracted his hands with an amused chuckle and took his weight mostly off you, propping himself up with a hand planted either side of your head.

"Alright there, darling?" He teased as you coughed weakly and wiped the tears of mirth from your cheeks. You gave him a scowl, but he found it adorable.

"Thihis isn't fair," you crossed your arms defiantly.

"No?" He smirked. "Pray tell, my love. What isn't fair?"

Oh. My love. His love.

That took any breath you'd managed to get back in your lungs.

"Y-you... you..." But your words were lost in the bliss of being his. He seemed to quickly understand how his words touched your heart, and it softened his teasing demeanour, and softened his smirk into a smile. "You found my worst spots so soon," you managed to murmur through rosy cheeks.

"Was only a matter of time."

"But now you have the upper hand."

"Dear heart, this isn't a struggle for power," he laughed heartily. "I do not seek to rule over you. Anything you ask of me, anything in the Nine Realms, I will give to you."

"Tell me where you're ticklish."

He chuckled and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before falling down beside you. He hummed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you as close as you could be.

"Anything but that."

#loki x reader #loki fluff #loki tickle fluff #ler!loki #ticklish!reader #marvel tickle #marvel fluff #marvel reader insert

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cherienymphe · 4 years ago

Text

Crave (Peter Parker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, vampire!Peter, bloodplay, mentions of animal cruelty, mentions of murder, mentions of X-Men characters

DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU

divider provided by @/k1tty4rk

summary: when Peter goes missing while on a mission, he’s not exactly himself when he returns. His appetite is a little different now, and you soon find out that he’s hungry for more than just blood

You should’ve known that something was wrong when your phone went off at nearly 3 in the morning. No one ever called you that late, not even Peter. Your best friend was more likely to slip through your window if he needed something. Groggy with fatigue, it took you a moment to realize that you had not plugged your phone up before going to sleep like you thought, and that it was instead in your sheets somewhere.

“Hello?” you finally grumbled, eyes still closed as you wondered just who in the world was calling you.

“Kid, it’s Tony. Is Peter with you?”

You were suddenly wide awake, blinking your eyes open as you forced yourself to sit up.

“No…? I thought… Isn’t he on a mission?”

Worry began to bleed into your heart, and it only increased at Tony’s words.

“He was, yeah.”

You threw the covers off of you, hurriedly sliding out of bed as you searched for some shoes.

“What do you mean ‘was’?”

The older man sighed, and you noted that his voice shook a little bit. You froze, heart dropping into your stomach as the severity of whatever was going on registered. Tony Stark was worried.

“He was supposed to check in 2 days ago. He was supposed to be back today. Neither of those things have happened.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Your pitch had risen, and you didn’t bother to mask your fear.

“I don’t have much time to explain. Capsicle and Robocop are coming with me to see if we can find him. We’re leaving shortly, but my coordinates show that he’s still in Bulgaria. That’s where we sent him. We just haven’t heard a word from him and can’t seem to get in touch with him.”

You could hear things going on in the background, and you figured that they were only moments away from leaving. Your stomach churned, and you felt like you might be sick. If Tony Stark with all of his gadgets and resources couldn’t get ahold of Peter, then something was really wrong.

“Look, I have to go. If he shows up there, let us know immediately.”

He hung up before you had the chance to tell him that you were coming straight to the compound. You stared at your phone for a bit, brows drawn together as you processed this news. You hadn’t thought anything of it when you hadn’t heard from Peter in a few days. He wasn’t a kid anymore, had graduated college alongside you only last year, so his presence on the team was needed a lot more. His missions were less juvenile, so losing touch for a week at a time was nothing new.

As you threw on a coat to combat the biting New York air, you tried not to dwell on the worst. It couldn’t be helped though, and as soon as you stepped into your apartment hallway, shoulder grazing your door, tears filled your eyes. If Tony could see where Peter currently was...and he wasn’t able to get in touch with him...then that meant he was dead right? You shook your head, locking your door and tightening your fingers around your purse. There could be so many reasons for that. It didn’t mean he was dead.

The entire drive to upstate New York was a quiet one. You couldn’t even find it in yourself to fill the car with mind-numbing music to distract you. Your fingers were tight on the wheel, legs so tense that when you finally arrived at the compound, they actually hurt when you stepped out of the car. You leaned your back against the vehicle, the warmth seeping through your coat, and you released an unsteady breath.

You had known Peter since high school, easily finding a place with him and Ned, and eventually, MJ too. When Ned and MJ took their college education elsewhere, you had remained. You told yourself it was to save money, a partial truth, but you never wanted to admit that it was also to stay by Peter’s side. You couldn’t imagine being away from him. It was pathetic really, but Peter was more than some guy you loved. He was your best friend.

“I had a feeling you’d show up here.”

The familiar voice reached your ears, and you looked up at Wanda just as she floated down next to you. Her auburn hair was ruffled with a gentle breeze, her eyes sympathetic as she reached out to pull you into her side.

“They will find him,” she assured you.

You could hear Sam on the phone as soon as she guided you inside of the compound, and he sent you a tense smile and wave, which you returned. You could faintly hear other voices as well, and you figured that everyone who stayed back was wrapped up in doing whatever they could to get in contact with Peter. You felt helpless.

“What can I do?” you asked Wanda, already knowing the answer.

“Just be here,” she told you, making you sigh.

“Wanda…”

You gave her a reproachful look, and she smiled at you.

“We know you’re worried just like the rest of us, probably even more than the rest of us,” you swallowed at her knowing look. “...but everything will be okay. The last thing we need is you putting yourself in harm’s way or bursting a blood vessel.”

You nodded, heeding her words. You made your way to your room with a heavy heart. You were far from being a member of the team, you could barely throw a proper punch, but seeing as you came over so often with Peter, sometimes in the dead of night, Tony decided to have you a room put in. Right next to Peter’s.

One of his old college sweatshirts was on your desk, still there from the last time you borrowed it, and without thinking, you got undressed and put it on. It still smelled like him, and with the scent of your best friend filling your nose, you laid down and sought out sleep.

The next day brought bad news. They had found Peter’s suit, but no Peter. It explained his stationary location and their lack of success with getting in touch with him. You had just stepped into the door of the room when Tony told them, his virtual face wracked with fear and worry, something you weren’t used to seeing.

You could tell that you weren’t meant to hear the news just yet by the way Nat’s eyes widened when she finally noticed you. The rest of the team turned as she hurriedly rose, making her way to you just as your face crumbled.

“Y/N-.”

“Wh-what does that mean? What does he mean?”

Tony’s voice faded as she pulled you from the room, and you almost tripped over your feet as your legs shook.

“Hey, Y/N, it’s going to be okay,” she said, attempting to calm you.

“What does he mean by that? Why doesn’t he have his suit- where is he?”

You were in your room now, and she shushed you as she guided you to your bed. You sat down, staring at your feet as your brain whirled. You hadn’t realized how fast your heart was beating, and your whole body shook as you fought to process this news.

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled, more to yourself than the spy before you.

She came into your vision as she knelt before you, her hands taking yours.

“Me neither,” she mumbled.

You fingered Peter’s shirt. You were still wearing it, just with some jeans, and Nat observed the movement.

“How long?” she quietly asked.

She didn’t need to elaborate. You knew what she was asking.

“Since…” you shrugged, releasing a heavy breath. “...practically since forever.”

“Does he know?”

You sadly shook your head. She pursed her lips, red hair framing her face as she studied you.

“We’re going to find him, and when we do, you can tell him. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Okay,” you quietly replied.

Nat didn’t stay for long, and you guessed that she needed to get back to the team to plan the best course of action. You barely left your room for the rest of the day, not having much of an appetite nor energy for anything. It was late in the evening when you found yourself making your way to Peter’s room. You lost count of how many times you slept in here, but Peter was usually with you, and if not, he at least showed up at some point. You liked waking up to the sound of his soft snores.

It felt weird with him gone, even weirder when you accounted for the fact that you didn’t know when he’d be back. If he’d be back. Your face almost crumbled at the thought, and you laid down, grabbing one of his pillows and hugging it to your chest, unable to stop the tears that spilled over, no matter how much you tried.

You slept in his room for days, and for days there was still no sign of him. The team was beyond worried now. You knew it, no matter how much they tried to portray otherwise. They were getting restless and scared. You couldn’t exactly say that you were any different though.

Sleep was hard to find, and even when you did, you found yourself tossing and turning throughout the night. Every time you woke up, you kept hoping that he’d be there, that you’d hear his voice. You were met with a dark empty room each time though, and it always broke your heart. After Peter had been missing for 8 days, Wanda finally came to you.

“I think you should go home,” she told you.

You were sitting cross legged on Peter’s bed, and she sat before you, hands in her lap with her feet on the floor. You frowned at her, wondering if you had overstayed your welcome, but she continued.

“It’s not that we don’t want you here, because you know we love having you around, but… You do not look good, Y/N.”

You squirmed under her concerned stare, clearing your throat.

“I’m fine,” you quietly argued.

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You just...you look exhausted and worried, and you’ve lost weight. A considerable amount in such a short time. What would Peter think if he came back right now and saw that you weren’t properly taking care of yourself?” she wondered.

Guilt flooded you, and you reluctantly nodded.

“I know that being here brings you some comfort, but I don’t think it’s worth the toll it’s taking on you.”

Your shoulders sagged, and you reluctantly admitted that she was right. You wanted to be near Peter in any way you could, but constantly waiting and listening out for any news was stressing you out.

“Go home. Sleep in your own bed. Get some rest. You can always come back,” she said.

“Okay.”

So, you did. You took a shower as soon as you made it back to your apartment, finding another one of Peter’s shirts he’d left. You forced yourself to at least eat something of substance, and when you had all you could take, you made a cup of tea. You had tried to watch tv, but funnily enough, the news was reporting on a crime that Spider-Man’s had helped solve months ago. Unable to stomach it, you turned the tv off and opted for bed.

Strangely enough, you were able to sleep better in your own bed. It happened quickly, and you didn’t toss or turn much. The first time you floated back to consciousness, it must have been around 3 in the morning. It was the longest you’d slept in days, and you knew that you’d be drifting back soon. However, you faintly noted that goosebumps had erupted over your skin, like you were cold.

Considering it was cold outside, you kept your heater blasting.

You blinked, staring at your window. It was closed, but the curtains were parted, and you could see that it was snowing outside. For the first time in days, a small smile tugged at your lips, and with a sigh, you rolled over. A dark figure was standing beside your bed, and the scream that you let out echoed through the apartment, filled with terror.

You fought back against them as they reached for you, struggling to get away and move further back on the bed. Their hands were cool, like they’d been outside for a while with no gloves. You were sitting up, pushing against them when they reached over and flicked on your lamp. When light flooded the room, your eyes widened.

Peter stood before you, dressed casually in dark clothes and looking completely unharmed. You sharply inhaled, all of your breath leaving you as your lips parted, eyes welling with tears. You blinked a few times, feeling like you might have been dreaming, but Peter remained. You reached out to him with shaking hands, and your vision had started to blur.

“Hey, breathe. Breathe, Y/N,” he softly ordered, brows furrowed.

You did as he said, and your chest burned as you moved closer. You slid off of the bed, moving to stand up, but your legs were unsteady. Peter caught you just as you fell into his arms, wrapping your own around him. You buried your face into his chest, your tears wetting his shirt, and he enveloped you in his arms as he shushed you.

You were shaking so much, and you just couldn’t stop. You couldn’t believe that he was here, and he looked perfectly fine. You sobbed into his chest, and you felt him tighten his arms around you. You clung to him, maneuvering to bury your face into the crook of his neck, feeling guilty about his shirt. You could feel him do the same, his nose brushing against your skin, and he took a long inhale, breathing you in.

“You’re okay,” you blubbered.

“Yeah...yeah, I’m okay,” he whispered.

You pulled away from him, roaming your eyes over him before meeting his own eyes.

“Where...where have you been? Everyone is looking for you,” you softly told him.

“I know,” he replied, looking sheepish.

“We have to call Tony,” you said, reaching for your phone.

Peter stopped you before you could, his hand tight on your wrist, and you found yourself wincing at his harsh grip. You looked at him with a frown, heart skipping a beat at his sudden dark countenance. He swallowed, and your eyes were briefly drawn to the subtle movement in his throat before he eventually let you go.

“I can’t...I can’t go back,” he told you, shaking his head.

Your eyes widened at him, and confusion filled you. What?

“What are...what are you talking about? Everyone is worried sick, more worried than I’ve ever seen them. Peter, they have no idea where you are or if you’re even okay! We should at least tell them-.”

You swallowed the rest of your words as you noticed that he made to leave.

“I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t have come here-.”

“Wait, wait!”

You grabbed onto the back of his shirt. You weren’t any match for him, but you were thankful that he halted. You wrapped your arms around him from behind, your lips brushing his shoulder as you spoke.

“Stay. Please stay,” you whispered.

His shoulders heaved as he sighed, and you continued.

“I’m sorry, okay? We don’t...we don’t have to tell them anything. If you don’t want to go back that’s fine, but… I’ve been so worried.”

That last part was said so softly, it was a wonder he even heard you. He didn’t say anything, nor did he move for a while, but eventually he turned around, and you let your arms fall. When your eyes met his again, you watched the way they narrowed, forehead creasing just a bit. You didn’t understand why until he reached up to press his fingers to the skin beneath your eyes. You could see the disapproval in his eyes, and all you could offer was a shrug.

“I was so worried.”

Peter blinked, face falling before he pulled you into his arms again. You returned the hug and let your eyes fall closed, just basking in the feel of him. You could hear his heartbeat, so slow...and so faint, something that seemed impossible. You told yourself you were imagining it.

“You’ll stay, right?”

He threw you a small smile when you pulled back to look at him, and you watched the way his dark eyes ran over you, lingering on your neck a tad longer than the rest of you before his eyes met yours again.

“Yeah, I’ll stay.”

You smiled at him, pulling him towards your bed. You settled in, only just realizing how cold you had gotten, while Peter got in behind you. Your head hit the pillow just as he turned the light out, and you frowned when you noticed that he wasn’t completely laying down. He was on his side, facing you with his head propped up onto his hand.

“You’re not tired?”

His eyes trailed to your window, staring out into the night for a moment before he shook his head.

“No...not really.”

You chuckled.

“So you’re just going to watch me sleep?” you wondered.

He reached towards you with his other hand, brushing his fingers along your neck and collarbone, fingers cool against your warm skin. A shudder passed through you.

“I missed you,” was his only answer, and it made your heart soar.

You knew that he didn’t miss you like you missed him, but it made you happy to hear that nonetheless.

“I missed you too.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed your eyes, the feel of his fingers on your skin oddly soothing. He always made you nervous, but not tonight. You wondered if it was because you had gone without him for so long, unsure if he would ever return. Sleep was just within your reach, but something weighed on your mind that prevented you from grabbing hold of it.

“Why don’t you want to go back?”

Your voice was small in the otherwise quiet room, and when Peter didn’t answer right away, you peeled your eyes open. He had stopped touching you, fingers curling into the covers as his jaw clenched.

“They won’t want me back.”

You frowned, forcing yourself to sit up. You blinked at him a few times, lips parting as you processed what that meant. Why wouldn’t they want him back? Peter was part of the team, one of the most loved members of the team. Said team was practically sick with worry, had been for over a week. Despite the fact that Peter was right in front of you and seemingly safe and sound, worry began to take hold again.

“Why wouldn’t they want you back?”

Your best friend didn’t answer you, and your worry grew, heartbeat picking up. Peter’s eyes were on you now as he sat up too, so focused and intense.

“What happened on your mission, Peter? What happened in Bulgaria?”

Again, Peter didn’t respond, but the minute you moved closer to him, he snatched your arm. Startled, you almost fell over, but his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled you closer, guiding the palm of your hand right to his chest.

Where his heart was.

Again, like before, you noted that his heartbeat was so slow. And even fainter. It was almost nonexistent, and your brows crinkled. You had felt and heard his heartbeat many times before since he’d become Spider-Man, and you knew that this was no effect of the spider bite. You had a hard time wrapping your mind around what you were feeling, and you looked at him again.

“I have...I have to tell you something…”

You fought to keep your worry at bay, noting the way Peter’s voice shook.

“I may even have to show you...but you have to promise me…”

His hand tightened on your wrist, and he released a shaky breath.

“...promise me that you won’t be scared.”

Scared of Peter? He was your best friend, and you couldn’t ever imagine being afraid of him. Still, you felt like he needed this so you nodded.

“Okay.”

Peter’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up, and your heart lurched in a mild panic before you realized why. The sun shone through your window, bathing your room in the warm rays, and you swallowed as you wondered where he could’ve gone.

“I’m right here.”

You snapped your head up to find him standing in the hall, just outside of your doorway. He was out of the sun’s reach, and you slid out of bed to join him. He was watching you like he couldn’t anticipate your next move, and you sent him a smile to reassure him.

“Do you...need anything…?”

You didn’t come right out and say it, but you both knew what you were asking. He studied you for a moment before shaking his head.

“No. I...ate before I came here last night,” he told you.

You nodded and folded your arms over your chest with a long sigh. You could feel his eyes on you as you looked away.

“Look, Peter...I know you're not going to like what I have to say, but…”

You chanced a glance at him and found his dark eyes narrowed at you.

“I think you need to tell Tony.”

He briefly closed his eyes before letting them fall to the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“If anyone can help you, he can.”

Peter scoffed, a humorless sound.

“Help me with what? It’s not like he can fix this, Y/N. This goes past Tony Stark and all of his intellect,” he practically spat, frustration coloring his tone. “This is what I am now.”

You grabbed his hands, squeezing them as you moved closer.

“I know, I know. I just meant...maybe he can help you safely get what you need.”

His eyes met yours, albeit reluctantly.

“...and maybe he can help you control your appetite better. That way...that way you won’t hurt anyone else,” you quietly finished, recalling everything he’d told you.

Guilt passed through Peter’s features at the reminder of what he’d done. He closed his eyes, practically squeezing them shut as his shoulders heaved, a small sigh escaping him.

“Maybe...you’re right,” he hesitantly admitted.

You could see the war going on within him when he opened his eyes, conflict and guilt and self-loathing all passing over his face.

“Hey.”

He looked at you.

“You’re still you. You just...your diet’s a little different now, that’s all.”

He cracked a smile, a small chuckle leaving him, and you joined him.

“When the sun goes down, we’ll go to the compound, and...and everything will be okay,” you promised him.

He nodded, and hours later, when the sun was safely behind the horizon, that was what you did. You drove. Peter was still wary of his new strength, strength that far surpassed what he had before. Your wrist was still sore from when he’d grabbed you last night, but you didn’t want him to feel any worse than he already did.

Having called Tony on the way, he was waiting outside when you arrived. As per requested, he was the only one. You didn’t want Peter to get overwhelmed. You weren’t exactly sure of what he was capable of now, neither one of you really were, and you didn’t want to stress him out.

Tony had pulled him into a hug the minute he reached him, and your heart clenched for many reasons. You hoped that you’d made the right decision. Tony loved Peter. He’d help him, right? When he pulled away, the bearded man’s eyes flickered between the two of you with a frown.

“So you’re going to tell me what the hell this is all about?”

Before you could respond, Peter moved to pull him inside.

“It’s a long story, Mr. Stark…”

His voice trailed off as they went inside, and with a small sigh, you eventually followed. Neither one of them were present, and you figured that they went to the lab. You had a feeling that everyone else was there too, or at least not far off. They’d been worried sick and now Peter was back, seemingly unharmed. Of course they’d be concerned and curious.

Wanda was the only one who greeted you, and her eyes were wide as they met yours. They were a bit accusatory, even fearful, and you pursed your lips. She probably didn’t mean to, but it was easy to guess that she’d been inside of Peter’s head. She knew, and there was no telling what she saw.

“Y/N…?”

You shook your head.

“He’s still him, Wanda. Okay? Everything is going to be fine.”

She didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue as you moved past her to go to your room. You didn’t see anyone else the rest of the night, and you knew that they were all caught up with Peter. Figuring out how this happened, running tests, coming up with the best course of action. You were in and out of sleep when you heard Peter come into your room in the early hours of the morning.

He wrapped his arms around you as he slid in behind you, and even though he wasn’t as warm as he used to be, the familiarity of it all immediately relaxed you. You felt him bury his nose in your hair, taking a deep breath as he breathed you in, fingers brushing over the skin of your arms.

“Everything okay?” you mumbled, referring to Tony and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “He wants me to drink pig’s blood, but yeah. Everything’s okay.”

You chuckled at that, sleep finding you once more as you smiled at Peter’s joke. However, it was the next day when you discovered that he hadn’t been joking at all.

“You’re serious?”

Peter nodded with a frown, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the counter.

“He wants to start weaning me off of human blood and start transitioning to animal blood,” he grumbled.

You noted that he wasn’t happy about that, and your curiosity got the better of you.

“Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, no,” he sighed. “He thinks it’ll help me. That maybe I’ll...crave human blood less and it’ll lower my chances of losing control around someone.”

You blinked, wondering if you agreed with that.

“I mean, he doesn’t exactly know. This is all just trial and error, right now, because probably for the first time in Mr. Stark’s life, he’s stumped,” Peter said with a shrug. “...but it’s worth a shot.”

You felt like there was more to it, like he wanted to say something else.

“He doesn’t know that I already tried that,” he whispered.

You leaned against the opposite counter, watching as his frown deepened, eyes troubled.

“When I woke up...I felt like I had swallowed fire,” he murmured. “My teeth hurt, my throat burned, and my mind was going a mile a minute. I felt like I was losing it.”

He sounded angry as he glared at the floor.

“The only thing that even smelled slightly appealing was…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, a light chuckle leaving him.

“I must have killed at least 100 animals. Anything I could get my hands on… It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch, only 1,000 times worse. It wasn’t until...it wasn’t until I came across those hikers…”

He swallowed his words, letting his face fall into his hands. You neared him, resting your hand on his arm.

“It was the first time I’d felt okay in days. I could finally freaking think,” he said through clenched teeth, letting his hands fall. “There I was...covered in blood...surrounded by bodies of innocent people...and I was finally at peace.”

You pulled him into a hug as he recounted what he’d already told you. You knew that Peter wouldn’t ever forget that moment, but God, you wanted him to. That wasn’t who he was, you knew it, and you wanted him to know it too. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, nose brushing over the skin, and his hands rested on your waist.

Your conversation with Nat weighed on your heart. Like she’d said, Peter was back, and you could finally tell him, but it didn’t seem appropriate. The man had been attacked and turned into something you thought only existed in books. This was a hard time for him, and it seemed silly to drop one more thing onto him, one more thing that could definitely wait.

“I wouldn’t get too close to him if I were you, Y/N. He might mistake you for a quarter pounder.”

You pulled away just as Bucky’s deep chuckle reached your ears, and you turned to see both him and Sam enter the kitchen. Sam seemed pleased with his little joke.

“You’re not funny,” you told him, completely unamused.

“It’s a little funny,” Bucky disagreed, and you huffed.

You felt Peter pull away, and by the time you looked over your shoulder, he was gone.

“Seriously?”

You threw them an incredulous look, and Sam shrugged.

“Look, we’ve got to find some humor in this okay? The kid’s got fangs and he lives off of blood now,” Sam said like it was the most absurd thing in the world.

Considering that you all were friends with literal Gods and even a woman who controlled the weather, you were inclined to disagree.

“This is hard for him, okay?”

You weren’t sure if they knew the full extent of what he’d done, but you heard Sam sigh, and Bucky at least looked a little sheepish.

“I’m sure he’ll joke about it when he’s ready, but please let him do it in his own time. His whole life has changed...again.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to the club,” Bucky sighed.

You rolled your eyes and turned away with a scoff.

“What’d I say?” you heard Bucky ask, but you were already making your way to Peter’s room.

You were surprised that he told you to come in when you knocked, and you slowly stepped inside. He was on his bed, hand behind his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“You okay?”

He let his hand fall, greeting you with a smile.

“Yeah, I’m good. They don’t mean any harm, so I’m not going to let it get to me,” he replied, reaching for you.

You joined him on the bed, laying your head on his shoulder as he told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn on the tv.

“Want to watch a movie with me? As silly as it seems, all I could think about was curling up with you and watching a movie the whole time I was away,” he confessed.

Your heart fluttered, sure he could hear it, but he didn’t comment on it. His arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

His hand tightened on your hip as you figured out what movie to put on.

Every day, Peter went to the lab with Tony and Bruce, and every time he returned, he always seemed irritated. You tried not to comment on the harshness of his eyes and tautness of his jaw, but eventually, you had to express your concern.

“It’s nothing,” he told you one day. “They just keep treating me like some science experiment gone wrong.”

He played it off like no big deal, but you could tell that he was genuinely bothered.

“...and its this stupid diet or whatever you can even call it! It’s not working. It’s not satisfying or fulfilling, at all. I can’t taste a damn thing, I’m just drinking to get full? If that’s what you can even call it. It does absolutely nothing to satisfy me or quell this desire…”

He trailed off at your light chuckle.

“Alright, Edward Cullen.”

He threw you a hard look, and you swallowed your laughs. While he was finally making jokes about the situation himself now, you realized that now was not the time.

“Sorry…”

He heaved a long sigh, turning to stare out of the window.

“You wanna get out of here?” he suddenly asked.

You blinked at him.

“Now?”

He glanced at the clock, and so did you. It was almost 2 in the morning.

“I can’t think of a better time,” he replied.

You chewed on your lip.

“Where?”

“Anywhere,” he shrugged. “Just for a little bit…”

He hadn’t left the compound in weeks, Tony far too paranoid, and you could see how much he needed this.

“Okay.”

That was how 40 minutes later, you found your car parked near a small pond while you and Peter leaned against it, staring at the full moon. Neither one of you had said anything since you left, and you guessed that Peter was in his thoughts. You couldn’t blame him.

“You know, if I’d been bitten by a werewolf, we’d be having a totally different night, right now.”

You barked a laugh, and he joined you.

“If you were bitten by a werewolf, I’d be trying to play fetch with you,” you replied.

He chuckled again, and the two of you fell into another easy silence. Your eyes narrowed a bit as something weighed on your mind, and you suddenly crossed your arms over your chest.

“Why won’t Tony let you have any human blood? I mean, blood banks exist…”

Peter sighed, a frustrated sound, and you turned to look at him. The cool nightly breeze blew his dark hair around his face, and his jaw clenched.

“He thinks it’ll make me crave it more. Kind of like an addict, you know?”

You shook your head, disagreeing with that.

“...but...it’s not. This is part of your DNA, now, is it not? He shouldn’t be looking at it like a drug but instead like...food. It’s what you need to survive, now,” you explained.

“You’re right...but that’s blood I’d be taking away from people who need it. Besides, it’d be pretty messed up of me to…‘convince’ some stranger to let me drink from them and then alter their memory of the whole thing,” he mumbled.

“That’s right. You did tell me you can do that, now,” you mused.

“I’m pretty sure it’ll come in handy during missions. You know, if I ever go on one again,” he complained.

Your heart hurt for Peter. His entire life had been turned on its head again. He couldn’t go on missions, couldn’t even see his aunt, and on top of it all, he couldn’t even satisfy the craving his body had for what it actually needed. You pursed your lips and glanced at him again. You were positive he noticed before, but this time he commented on it.

“What?”

You glanced away from him, heart speeding up a bit as you wrung your hands together.

“What about me?”

He didn’t respond right away, and when you looked at him again, his eyes were on you. They were narrowed, hard, but you could see the spark of something in them that gave you hope that maybe this wasn’t such a horrible idea after all. Peter’s lips parted, his sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight before he snapped his mouth shut. He cleared his throat.

“You...you would do that?”

“Of course,” you said with a frown, turning your body completely to face him. “This is what you need, and you’re my best friend, and I’m willing. So you don’t have to let your morals get in the way.”

Peter stared at you for what seemed like a long time, eyes roaming over every inch of you. You watched as he swallowed, the conflict written all over his face. You could see that he was scared, afraid that he’d hurt you, but you could also see the fire in his eyes, the desire to take you up on your offer.

“Worst case scenario-.”

“You die?”

You rolled your eyes at him, stepping closer.

“You won’t let me die, Peter. We both know it,” you whispered, pushing your sleeve up and holding your arm out.

Peter’s dark eyes snapped to the bared skin, no doubt tracing the veins that you couldn’t see. Hesitantly, he grabbed your wrist, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting your arm as he bent his head. His breath, like everything else about him now, was cool against your skin. You watched as he closed his eyes, dark lashes contrasting against his fair skin, before opening his mouth. You barely got a glimpse of his sharp canines in all of their glory before they were sinking into your arm.

The reaction from you both was instantaneous.

A loud gasp escaped you, but not from pain. No. Your body heated up like never before, blood on fire as Peter let out an equally loud groan. An addicting sense of euphoria descended over you, and you felt your legs shaking, lashes fluttering as you struggled to keep your eyes open. Sensing this, Peter reached out with his free hand and tangled it within your hair, pulling you closer until your head leaned against his shoulder.

You could feel him moving forward, and he didn’t stop until your back was against your car. His hand tightened in your hair, almost painfully, but all you let out was a moan, your breath choppy and lips trembling as he pressed his leg in between yours. Your free hand clutched his jacket, attempting to pull him closer, and a low moan escaped his own throat as he pushed his thigh more firmly against your now heated core.

You faintly noted that this was a lot more erotic than you anticipated, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. He was still pressing your head to his shoulder, and your lips brushed the fabric of his jacket as you murmured his name.

“Peter...Peter…”

You couldn’t tell if you were asking him to stop or not, but considering this was the best high you’d ever been on, you concluded that you were not. Suddenly, all too soon, Peter practically ripped himself away from you, and you would’ve fallen to the ground if he hadn’t caught you. Your chest was heaving, so was his, and when you peeled your eyes open, his own wide ones were focused on you.

“Shit,” he cursed, looking like he was seconds away from getting in trouble. “Shit, shit, shit. I shouldn’t have done that. Mr. Stark is going to kill me…”

“Hey...it’s okay,” you panted, weakly reaching up to brush a dark strand out of his face. “I’m okay. How do you feel?”

He seemed stumped by the question, and he suddenly blinked, brows drawn together as he stared down at you. His lips were stained with your blood.

“I...haven’t felt this satisfied in weeks,” he whispered, looking at you strangely.

You weakly chuckled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Good.”

You had only been seconds away from falling when he caught you, and he finally straightened as he lifted you into his arms. You could feel yourself on the verge of sleep...or was it the verge of death? Either way, you were happy that Peter was happy. He gently deposited you into the passenger’s seat, strapping you into place. Your head lolled as he shut the door, facing him as he settled behind the wheel.

You could feel his eyes on you, and with difficulty, you opened yours again. He was staring at you with that look again, and you were sure he thought you crazy for putting your life in danger like that. The car was quiet, just the sound of your shallow breathing could be heard, and you thought to yourself that you kind of wanted to tell him you loved him. However, before you could, Peter leaned over and pressed his blood-stained lips to yours.

It was quick and soft, just the barest of touches, but it made your eyes widen nonetheless. You stared at him as he sat back and started the car, and you wanted to keep staring at him, wanted to ask him what the hell was that, but sleep finally got to you before you could.

It was days before you finally discussed what had happened, and that was only because it was days before Peter needed to “feed” again.

“I think I can go longer without when it’s human blood...because it’s what actually satisfies me. What my body needs,” he murmured one night while you were watching a movie you’d both seen a million times.

“That’s a good thing. Surely Tony will see that this is the best thing to do. This is what will keep you in control and allow you to go on missions again...see your aunt May…”

You had decided to keep what happened between the two of you, but you didn’t exactly feel right about it. Peter sighed and shook his head.

“No. I think he’d send me away,” he quietly told you.

You quickly moved your head to look up at him, your cheek on his chest as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s been doing research, trying to find others like me. I think he has. I overheard him talking to the captain and Sam one day. He’s thinking about sending me somewhere I can learn to control my thirst and utilize my new…abilities or whatever,” he grumbled.

You fully sat up now, looking down at him with a stricken expression. His eyes finally moved away from the screen, and he smiled at you, rubbing your back in a soothing manner.

“I’m not going to let him send me away, Y/N, but he’ll definitely try if we tell him what happened.”

You nodded, forcing your heart to slow before you laid back down. Peter’s hand was still on your back, tracing patterns into your, well, his shirt. You listened to his slow heartbeat, the organ pumping what was left of your blood through his body. Your lashes fluttered when he dragged his fingers up to your neck, the appendages playing with the hair there. You found yourself humming when he tightened his hold there, and you looked up in confusion, prepared to ask him what he was doing when his other hand gripped your arm, and he pulled you up.

His lips met yours in a kiss that was nothing like the first one. You gasped against his mouth, and he wasted no time before taking the opportunity to taste the inside of yours. Peter moaned into the kiss, circling both arms around you now as he rolled the both of you over. He settled himself between your parted legs, and you sharply inhaled at the bulge you felt there.

Peter’s hand traveled to your neck again, grasping the hair at the nape, holding you in place as he dragged his mouth down. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he bit you, throwing your hands out to grasp anything you could. Your right hand hit the lamp on the nightstand, and it fell to the floor with a soft crash. Peter’s other hand pressed into your back, forcing you to arch your chest into his.

His hips were rolling into yours, his clothed member pressing against the most sensitive part of you so deliciously. You let out a soft moan, one hand clawing at his shirt, pushing the fabric up to drag your nails along his back. Peter had you completely pinned in between him and the mattress, every curve of his hips sending pleasure through you.

“Peter,” you moaned, reaching up to drag your hand along the headboard. “Fuck, Peter.”

You could feel your blood crawling past your neck, staining his sheets, but he didn’t seem to care. The bed shook a bit from his movements, and you hooked one leg on his waist as he continued to grind into you. You could feel yourself fading, and you welcomed it, and before you could, one particularly slow roll of his hips sent you over the edge.

You were a moaning mess as you came beneath him, his teeth still embedded in your neck. Your whole body shook, legs practically vibrating as they fell around him, chest heaving as he finally pulled away. He licked at your neck, and your arms fell to the bed, soft murmurs leaving your lips to which Peter chuckled at. He brushed his thumb over your lip before leaning back down, lips grazing your ear.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

You did, he was, and he greeted you with a kiss, further filling you with confusion as you wondered just what you were. You didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to break the spell by trying to make him define this. You simply wanted to enjoy whatever this was, and enjoy it you did.

Every few days or so, you found yourself squirming beneath Peter one way or another. Sometimes he simply pressed kisses along your neck as he rolled his hips into yours, sometimes his teeth were in you, and sometimes his fingers were in you, the sound of it so loud as he thrust them in and out of your fluttering core. The rest of the team was none the wiser as you both satisfied each other in more ways than one. It was usually in the dead of night when everyone else was asleep, and Peter was wide awake.

“Ngh, Peter,” you panted, fingers twisted into his dark locks.

You were completely naked before him, a first, as he swiped his tongue over your wet folds, another first. His own fingers were pressed into your thighs, holding them down in a way that hurt so good. The cool air hit the bite mark on the inside of your left thigh, and you hissed as Peter slid his tongue past your slick walls, tasting every inch of you that he could.

A thin layer of sweat covered your frame, and you realized that you lost track of how long Peter had been alternating between tasting your blood and tasting your lips. His mouth completely covered you, and you shuddered when he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, sharp teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

You could feel your...3rd? 4th? Or was it the 5th climax of the night that you felt approaching? You were so tired, but Peter didn’t seem to have gotten his fill of you, and his lips kissed along your mound before traveling to the space in the crease of your thigh before he swiped his tongue over your thigh itself, the unmarked one. It was dark in the room, and when Peter glanced up at you, dark promises in his eyes, you noted that they almost seemed to glow in the dark, like that of a feline.

He wasted no time before sinking his teeth into your skin again, and you pressed your hand to your mouth to keep from making too much noise. You knew that he’d ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y to soundproof the room, but it was a force of habit by now. Your climax crashed over you like a tidal wave, and that was how you fell asleep that night, with Peter’s face in between your legs, drinking from you in any way he saw fit.

“Look who decided to grace us with her presence,” Bucky sarcastically greeted as you walked into the kitchen the next morning.

Steve threw you a sheepish smile, visibly sorry on Bucky’s behalf for his behavior.

“Cut it out, Buck.”

“I’m just acknowledging that the princess has been holed up in her room more often than not as of late. If I didn’t know any better, I would’ve thought you went home, but I noticed that you’re still eating my cereal, the only other person who eats the kind I like, so…”

You rolled your eyes as he trailed off, and he reached out to pull on your shirt as you neared.

“What’s with the turtleneck, squirt? I know it’s freezing outside, but in case you haven’t noticed, it’s 77 degrees in here.”

You tensed at his words, and you ignored the way Steve eyed you over his mug.

“I just think I’m coming down with something is all. I’m a little chillier than usual today,” you lied.

He simply hummed, and that was when you finally noticed his attire. Steve too.

“Are you guys going on a mission?”

“You’d know the answer to that if you actually left your room once in a while,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve lightly shoved his shoulder.

“Yeah, the whole team’s heading out. Well...except…” Steve trailed off, and you nodded. “...but Nat and Sam are supposed to be returning from their assignment today, so they’ll be back later.”

You nodded at Steve’s words, not quite liking the way that he was studying you. You hurriedly poured your own cup of coffee, quietly telling them to “be safe” before moving to get out of Steve’s watchful eye.

Hours later found you and Peter on the couch, hardly paying any attention to the movie before you. You had the compound to yourselves, something you looked forward to, but Peter had other ideas than that of what you were thinking.

“You want to...leave?”

You frowned at him, unsure that you heard him right. Peter was facing you with his elbow on the back of the couch, propping his head up as his other hand traced your collarbone.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Mr. Stark...I think he’s getting serious about sending me away for a while. I think he suspects us, but I’m not sure.”

You mulled over his suggestion, unsure of how you felt about it.

“They couldn’t even find me last time. I’d make sure they’d never find us,” he told you.

“I...I don’t know. I mean, I love you, but I’d miss everyone else,” you replied.

When you looked to him, he looked surprised, and his lips parted as he blinked at you.

“...what?”

Your brows drew together.

“What?”

He scooted closer, a slow grin forming on his pink lips.

“You love me?”

You scoffed at him.

“Of course. Peter, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember,” you finally confessed.

You thought that it would’ve been obvious by now, but Peter just looked as if you told him he’d won a million dollars. Before you could register it, he reached out to pull you into a kiss. It was passionate and full of yearning...and hungry. You wrapped your arms around his neck and moved closer, Peter’s hand pressing into the small of your back. His lips trailed from your own down to your jaw, pressing kisses there and to your neck. You’d changed shirts as soon as everyone had left.

You knew what he wanted, what he needed, and you welcomed it as he pressed his teeth into your skin. A breathy moan climbed out of your throat as he laid you down. Your heart was going haywire in your chest, the realization that Peter returned your feelings finally hitting you. His hands ran over you, brushing over your breasts and down your sides before he hooked them underneath your thighs.

He pressed his bloody lips to your décolletage, nipping at the skin there before they grazed the swell of your breasts. He bit into the flesh that spilled over the top of your shirt, and you trembled beneath him, a loud moan escaping you. He growled into your skin, fingers pressing into your thighs almost painfully. You weren’t sure how long you remained beneath him, lashes fluttering and lips parted as ecstasy clouded your mind, but eventually, you felt yourself fading in a way you had never felt before.

Your vision blurred, and you could feel your heart starting to slow.

“Peter,” you worriedly murmured.

He seemed preoccupied with releasing himself from his jeans, fingers brushing over you as he reached underneath your skirt. You opened your mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sound, the sound transforming into a breathy gasp when he thrust into you.

“Peter,” you weakly called.

You could feel yourself fading fast, and Peter’s own breath was harsh as he drank from you, snapping his hips into yours with every thrust. You could faintly hear a door opening, and you wanted to warn him, but you could hardly move, let alone speak. Darkness creeped along the edge of your vision, and the last thing you heard before going under was a feminine scream.

You knew that you were in the infirmary before you even opened your eyes. The steady beep of the monitor next to you told you that whatever condition you had been in was pretty serious. You struggled to open them, but when your eyes finally peeled open, you noticed that the room was empty.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you’re awake,” F.R.I.D.A.Y noted. “I will inform Mr. Stark immediately.”

You cringed, squeezing your eyes shut at the mention of the last superhero you wanted to see. You just knew that you were going to get an earful, and you didn’t really care to hear it. You just wanted to know where Peter was and if he was okay.

Tony burst through the doors a lot sooner than you would have liked, and you avoided his eye. He didn’t say anything, and you knew that he was angry, because when did Tony Stark ever have absolutely nothing to say?

“Are you insane?” he finally wondered, and you sighed.

“Where’s Peter?”

“That doesn’t matter right now,” he snapped, and you finally looked at him as he stomped towards your bed. “You could’ve died.”

You shrank underneath his cold stare and harsh words, glancing away.

“Do you get that, Y/N? When Nat and Sam got here…”

He trailed off, face reddening as he was no doubt recalling what he’d been told, probably what he’d even seen thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y. You watched as he swallowed, releasing a breath.

“Any later, and you would’ve been dead,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” you quietly told him. “I just wanted to help him.”

He heaved a long sigh, a tired and exasperated sound.

“I know you love him…”

You frowned at that, wondering if the whole damn team knew.

“...but he needs help from people who can help him. Help him to control himself, hone his new skills, help him so that he doesn’t kill you,” Tony finished, and you blinked back tears. “Go home and let us handle Peter. When the time is right, he’ll be able to see you again.”

The tears finally spilled over, and with a shake of his head, Tony left you. After a few more days in the infirmary, and several blood transfusions later, you did as Tony instructed. It felt strange to be back home after spending nearly 2 months at the compound with Peter. As you entered your room, sitting on your bed, you felt silly.

Tony had been right. You had almost died. You recalled the feel of your life literally slipping away as Peter drank from you, too lost in the taste and feel of you to notice that he was losing control. You had only wanted to help him, and you had ended up making things worse. Was Tony right to treat it like an addiction? Had you hindered Peter more than you helped him? You didn’t know. All you knew was that your actions almost led to your death at Peter’s hand, and that Tony’s actions had not.

You didn’t know where Peter was, but you had faith that he was alright. You hoped that Tony didn’t give him too hard of a time for what he’d done, but you knew that was unlikely. Nat, poor Nat, had literally walked in on him feeding from you and fucking you. There was no telling what the poor woman thought, and you hated the idea of them treating Peter like some wild animal that needed to be caged.

It was 3 nights later when you woke up to the feel of fingers ghosting over the side of your face as you slept. It took you a moment to register what was happening, but when you blinked your eyes open, you were surprised to come face to face with Peter as he stood over you.

“P-Peter?”

You struggled to sit up, and you rubbed your eyes, noting the way his own dark ones lingered on your neck.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re getting out of here. C’mon,” he said, reaching for you.

You frowned at him, and you watched his own face fall.

“I don’t...I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you honestly told him.

He frowned at you, and guilt tore through you for more reasons than one.

“Don’t listen to Mr. Stark-.”

“Maybe I should’ve. Maybe...maybe he knew what he was talking about,” you said, cutting him off.

His hand fell to his side, and his dark eyes narrowed on you.

“You’re afraid of me,” he murmured.

“No! No...not really-.”

He cut you off with an angry sigh, and you folded your arms over your chest.

“I almost died, Peter!”

You watched the conflict on his features, brows furrowing ever so slightly.

“...and you would’ve never forgiven yourself...and I feel like it’s my fault…”

Peter stood over you, dressed plainly but darkly, chocolate locks kissing his forehead as he stared at you. He didn’t look happy.

“So you’re taking his side,” he surmised.

“I just think you should hear him out,” you whispered. “We tried it our way...and look what happened.”

He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. You sat there, and he stood there, both of you just staring at each other. You watched the way Peter’s jaw clenched, and he suddenly reached out to tangle his fingers in your hair, pulling you into a kiss as he neared. You pressed your hands against his chest, but Peter forced his way onto your bed, knees pressed into the mattress on either side of you as he moved his mouth against yours.

“Mm, Peter,” you protested, turning your head away.

“They think I raped you, you know,” he quietly said, the loud sound of tearing fabric filling the room as he ripped your t-shirt straight down the middle.

Your eyes went wide at his words, and he chuckled, the corner of his lips quirking upwards into a smirk.

“Oh, yeah. They think I coerced you with my new abilities or even just flat out bit you and took you anyway I saw fit,” he whispered.

The irony of the situation was not lost on you, and you desperately fought against him. Your underwear was next, and you were no match against Peter’s newfound strength as he batted your hands away, moving to remove his own clothes.

“They don’t know that I had you squirming beneath me, purring and mewling like a desperate kitten.”

His voice was husky, thick with the desire to sink both his teeth and cock into you. He gripped your legs, separating them like it was nothing despite your efforts to keep them closed.

“They think that you’re bad for me…”

It was embarrassingly easy for him to slide into you, your velvet walls giving him a wet welcome. He sighed out as he pressed into you, dark eyes somehow darker.

“...they think I’ve formed some supernatural bond with you, some kind of blood tie…”

A choked moan slipped past your lips as he started to thrust into you, and Peter leaned down to press kisses to the corner of your mouth.

“...and they might be right, but it only cements what we both know.”

His hands pressed into the sheets beside your head, his labored breathing reaching your ears as he pulled back and snapped his hips into yours again and again. Your head was spinning from the way he dragged his cock through your clenching walls, completely unrelenting in his pace. While this technically wasn’t the first time he fucked you, it was the first time you were coherent enough to truly feel what was happening.

“Peter,” you murmured.

His nose brushed against yours with every thrust, and he released a shaky breath.

“...and what do we both know?”

There was a desperation in his eyes that took you by surprise, and your heart clenched.

“Say it...for me…”

You swallowed, lashes fluttering as he slowed down his thrusts.

“I’m yours.”

His own eyes fell closed at the admission, slowly sinking himself into you, basking in the feel of you wrapped around him.

“You gave me your blood...your body…”

He leaned down to trail kisses along your neck, rolling his hips against yours.

“...and you’ll give me your soul. You’re mine in every way a woman possibly can be. In every way a human can be,” he purred, sharp teeth grazing over your warm flesh.

His words made your stomach flutter, walls clenching around him, and just then, your phone buzzed. Like that first night, it was in your sheets somewhere, and the continuous buzzing told you that it was a phone call. You had a guess as to who it could be and what they wanted.

They were looking for Peter.

You looked to him when he paused, watching as his face darkened. He wrapped his hand around your noisy phone before throwing it at the wall, the device shattering upon impact. His dark eyes met yours again, and he kissed you, stealing your breath away as he moved within you again.

“They want to know if I’m with you...if you’re safe…”

You could feel him smiling against your lips, and your nails pressed into his sides, hanging on as he pushed his knees beneath your thighs, widening your legs and forcing a guttural moan from you.

“They think you’re in danger around me...and they’re probably right, but not the kind of danger they’re thinking of.”

One of his hands fisted itself into your hair, pulling your head back, baring your throat to him, and you knew what was coming.

“You don’t know how much I fought with myself that first night...how badly I wanted to tear into you anyway I could,” he whispered, voice strained. “You were all I thought about when I was attacked...when I changed…”

His hips sped up, the sound of slapping skin filling the room as he pistoned into you.

“For your sake, I’m glad you gave yourself to me, because I planned to take you from the very moment I stepped into your bedroom.”

His teeth pressed into your neck, breaking the skin, and your climax washed over you, euphoria clouding your mind and senses as Peter drank from you. His thrusts didn’t stop, and one hand pressed into the headboard above you, blood staining your pillow as the bed shook from the movement of his thrusts. You knew that Peter was far from done for the night, finally claiming what he felt was rightfully his.

tags: @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @harryspet @readermia @opheliadawnwalker3 @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @hyoyeoniie @kellyn1604 @sherrybaby14 @cocoamoonmalfoy @mandiiblanche @gotnofucks @oneoftheprettynerds @doozywoozy @sapphirescrolls @threeminutesoflife @searchforanotherway @mcudarklibrary @ksjksjkv @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

#dark!peter parker #dark peter parker #Dark!Peter #dark peter x reader #peter parker x reader #marvel fanfiction #Dark Fic

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