#ive got an hour and a half left until i can go home and sexualize that old man on my drawing tablet ......

[justablah56]

ok guys I'm fine

[titan-fodder]

Prima Vista Part IV

[ previous ]

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.6k

Warning: a big helping of abandonment/daddy issues, lots of feelings, explicit sexual content A/N: y’all are gonna be so soft and then so mad lmao. 

The plan was to go to Mike's house then back to campus. You said you didn't have anything to do at your mom's, that a long phone call would suffice, which is why Mike is confused when you ask him if you can stop by before going back. It's an hour out of the way, but it's not like he has anything better to do, and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious about your humble beginnings. 

 The house is in a decent-looking neighborhood, small, nearly identical one-story homes surrounded by cracked sidewalks. He has to be careful not to trip as you make your way to the front porch, pots of dead or dying plants along the edges of it. You shove your key into the lock, twist and open, then motion for Mike to follow. 

 The den is dimly lit, ceiling fan above with only one working bulb. A crime show is playing on the TV but there's no one watching. There is, however, another light pouring from a back room, and as soon as you drop your bag on the couch, a head pokes out from the doorway. 

 "Baby girl!" A shrill voice cries, and Mike sees you grimace. "I thought you weren't coming by!" 

 A woman walks into the den wearing long, cotton shorts and an old tie-dye shirt then pulls you into a hug so tight that it makes you cough. 

 "Mom," you take a deep breath as if to refill your lungs with all the air that was pushed from them. "This is Mike."

 He holds out a hand and smiles, but all your mother does is stare with round eyes and blurt, "Oh, he's a big boy." 

 "My fucking god." You don't yell or whine, just pinch the bridge of your nose and mumble, "Just shake his hand please." 

 "Sorry, I'm sorry, just was not expecting… You didn't tell me how tall he was."

 "'Cause it doesn't matter. Why would I—nevermind," you cut yourself off, face falling flat just like your voice. 

 Mike isn't sure if he should be flattered or offended or embarrassed, so he just ignores the comment entirely and says, "Nice to meet you." 

 You make your escape to the back, dragging Mike with you before shutting your bedroom door and leaning against it. 

 "Mom is a little weird, but you'll always know where you stand with her," you tell him. "Also, sorry about the house. She’s a teacher, so she’s usually pretty beat at the end of the day. Not enough energy to do a lotta cleaning."

 "Didn't even notice," he reassures you. 

 Mike unpacks his bag next to you, and you gather the dirty clothes from both yours and his, balling them up and taking them with you out to the garage to throw into the washing machine. Mike should have done it at his parents', but as you were packing up that morning, his mother got all teary eyed and his dad just kept shaking your tiny hands and telling you to come back, so it just didn’t happen. 

 Back in the living room, your mom is sitting in an old rocking chair, and Mike thinks you'll take a seat on the adjacent couch, but instead you ask, "You need help with anything? Dishes or vacuuming or somethin'?"

 She looks up at you, fly-away hairs sticking out around her temples and forehead and responds, "It'd be nice if you could do the dishes. I just haven't gotten around to it."

 "Can do," you nod and walk into the kitchen, opening the dishwasher and making a displeased noise at the dirty plates and bowls inside. There's room for a few more, but once it's full and running, you just clean what's left in the sink by hand. Mike finds a towel, stands next to you, and holds his hand out for every scrubbed dish, drying it and placing it in the rack to hopefully be put up later. 

 "You hungry?" You ask when you're done and drying your hands. "It's almost one."

 "Uh, yeah. I could eat." 

 Truthfully, he's starving having only had a small breakfast at his parents'. He doesn't want to say that, though, doesn't want you making a big meal for him or apologizing for anything. 

 "Sandwiches okay?" 

 Something in your tone has him on edge. Your voice is too quiet, deflecting downward as if you're forcing each word from your mouth. 

 "Yeah," he nods. "If you get the stuff, I can make 'em." Mostly so that you can relax but also because there's no way he's gonna let you make him a fucking sandwich. 

 You shrug your shoulders, grab bread, lunchmeat, cheese, and condiments, then say, "You can make ours. I'll make mom's."

 He knows he's missing something, but he doesn't know what, and right now he's too afraid to ask. 

 He eats next to you on the couch, you and your mom watching TV as Mike tries to subtly glance around. Mounted shelves are decorated with dusty, mismatched figurines, cracks opening at the corners where the walls meet the roof. The brick fireplace is stacked high with plastic tubs and books, probably from your mother’s classroom, and the carpet has seen better days. 

 Mike isn't judging—not in the least—but he has a feeling he knows why being here puts you in a sour mood. The house feels lived in, cluttered and cozy and worn around the edges, but it's still empty somehow. 

 After the three of you are finished eating, you take the paper plates and dispose of them, then tell your mom that you'll be in your room. She gives you a soft smile that you struggle to return.

 It's a little more you in the bedroom, blue walls covered in old posters and collages, a quilt similar to the one in your dorm folded at the bottom of your bed. Your pillow cases are faded and covered in an old flower design that matches your sheets, and there's a small nightstand next to the headboard that's bare on top with wrinkled papers poking out of the bottom drawer. 

 "It's not much, but if you wanna snoop around like I always do, feel free." 

 Mike doesn't really want to, especially since you already seem so uncomfortable in what should be a safe space for you. The only thing he feels okay investigating is the old bookshelf next to your closet—mostly YA novels, some poetry books, an old set of The Lord of the Rings series, a textbook over rocks and minerals and another over volcanoes. Tucked away in the bottom shelf is a tiny booklet that looks like a photo album, and Mike has to fight the urge to pull it from its place and flip through the plastic pages. Anything to get to know you better. 

 You lay in bed, eyes locked on the ceiling, and Mike doesn't know what to do. There's a very small TV sitting on your dresser, an old DVD player next to it, so he figures he'll save both you and himself from talking by picking out a movie. 

 He fingers through them, not that there's a lot, just skims the spines until he pulls out a copy of Space Jam. You only glance at the screen when the intro starts, and Mike immediately zeroes in on the way your jaw sets and your brows furrow. 

 "I can pick something else," he tells you quietly. 

 You take a deep breath and shake your head. Slowly but surely your features begin to soften. 

 "'S'fine."

 "Are you sure?" 

 "Yeah. My, uh…" You swallow loud enough from Mike to hear, neck bobbing with the motion. "My dad and I used to watch it all the time."

 He doesn't know what to make of it or how to respond. In the months he's known you, Mike has never heard you mention your father a single time, and he's never asked in fear of what your response might be. 

 He moves your quilt to sit on the very edge of the bed, a little too tense as he heavily contemplates ignoring what you'd said and still switching movies. 

 "You can lay down, you know," you mumble. "I'm not gonna bite you."

 "You have before," he tries to act casual, but it comes out too stiffly.

 You laugh through your nose— "Suit yourself—" then get more comfortable on the mattress. 

 Michael Jordan gets pulled into a golf hole and the Loony Toons journey to retrieve his shoes from the real world. Mike is barely paying attention, more focused on the way your breathing evens out until it becomes slow and deep. 

 That's good. You could use a nap. 

 He watches you for a while, the way your eyelashes flutter against your cheeks and your lips part. You're all curled up on yourself, hands tucked under your chin, knees to your stomach, and Mike wants to slip behind you so badly, to pull you to his chest and lay with you until his heartbeat syncs with yours. 

 But first. 

 As carefully as he can, Mike stands from the bed and glides to the bookcase. He lowers himself in front of it, quickly finding what he's looking for and pulls it from the shelf. 

 It's a small little album, full of polaroids and old pictures cut in half. The first page sets the tone for the rest of the booklet, a photo of a very small you outside eating a popsicle next to a man that is most definitely your dad. You've got a similar facial structure as well as his coloring. Not to mention the expression he's wearing is one Mike has seen you make many times before. 

 The next picture is the two of you dressed up for an event. He's in a striped Polo and slacks while you're in a little checkered dress, a rose corsage on your tiny wrist. Some kind of father-daughter dance, Mike guesses. 

 Sitting on his lap at a fair, a chubby little boy a few years older than you standing close with a stuffed snake around his neck. A party where you're posed with an honestly frightening costume character. You in a bright, mesh jersey standing back to back with your dad, arms crossed, looking at the camera with your chins tilted upward. 

 They all look like good memories. The little boy in the fair picture appears several more times, and as he loses his baby fat, Mike sees the resemblance he shares with you and your father. It's too close to be a cousin—your eyes and mouths shaped the same—so he must be your brother. 

 Mike doesn't know how to feel about that because again, you've never uttered a word. As far as he knew, you were an only child, so why…

 He gets lost in the pages, watching you grow and pose mostly next to your dad. Smiles and laughs and silly faces with your tongues sticking out. Your mom is in some, brother in others, and then, you're in a cap and gown, grinning widely next to your dad who's beginning to gray at the temples. His own smile is barely there now, a ghost of what was seen in the previous photos. It's forced, it's sad, and it's the last picture in the book. 

 Mike's chest hurts. He wonders what happened, when exactly you'd lost him. Was it a quick goodbye, or had it been drawn out and painful? Had he been sick for a long time? He'd looked perfectly healthy in all the shots. Maybe a car accident that took both him and your brother…

 He flips to check for one last photo on the back of the page, but it's empty. However, tucked in a tiny, paper pocket is a folded up note that Mike stares at for a few solid minutes, debating the pros and cons of reading it. He knows he's already violated your privacy by looking through the album, and fuck, he's only been in your house for a couple hours at most—how has he already managed to tumble down such a humongous rabbit hole? 

 Your tiny snores reach his ears, and Mike gently pulls the note out, biting his lip as he unfolds it as quietly as possible. It's soft, like it's been read too many times, and the letters scribbled in all caps are beginning to fade, but the words are still legible. 

 It starts with your name, and then it's all apologies—sorry I can't stay, I have to leave, you don't understand how much this hurts me and so on. 

 Mike's eyebrows pull together the further he reads, blood pounding against the walls of his arteries, pulse picking up because he understands now.

 Your father wasn't in any sort of accident; he just left. 

 The letter ends with a gut-wrenching, You'll always be my little girl, and Mike nearly crumples the paper up to throw away. He resists somehow, simply folds it with shaky hands and slips it back into the pocket at the back of the album. 

 He's never been so mad at a stranger in his life. This must be it. This must be why you are—

 "Should've known you'd go straight for the photo album." 

 Your voice makes Mike's body jolt, his face heating as he turns to look at you with wide eyes. 

 "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean—"

 You wave him off and prop yourself up on an elbow. "It's whatever."

 But, it's not. It's this huge part of you that still affects you to this day. Mike is no psychologist, but he has a pretty good feeling this is the main reason you hold everyone at arm's length. 

 "Why didn't you ever tell me?" 

 "What's there to tell?" 

 Sitting up fully, your gaze moves to the screen just in time to see Michael Jordan step off of the spaceship and onto the baseball field. I Believe I Can Fly is playing, and you're gritting your teeth. 

 "It's not anything that comes up in normal conversation anyway. I wasn't just gonna hit you with it outta nowhere. Also," you look back to Mike, eyes still sleepy, lips pulling downward in a frown. "I'm not the only one who hid stuff about my family."

 Mike sighs and quietly tells you, "That's different," as he closes the album and slides it back into the row of books. 

 "Is it, though? Is it really?" 

 "I..." 

 Mike shuts his mouth and actually thinks on it. He wasn't trying to lie to you about his home life or his heritage. He's only half Greek on his mom's side, after all, and he's only been to the country to visit family a couple of times—once when he was a child and once right before college. The culture is a little different over there, but it all seems so natural to him, especially after being raised to speak the language. 

 Honestly, he didn't ever tell you because he didn't think to, but Mike can understand the shock of walking into his childhood home and getting thrown through that loop. It must have been jarring for you. 

 It's a positive aspect of his life, though. It's not something that's damaged him or made him cold toward others. And, he hates describing you in such a way, but it's true.

 At least it makes sense now. 

 "I guess not," he shrugs. He's not about to fight you on it. 

 You stare at him for a while, waking up a bit more as you rub your eyes and stretch. 

 Then, you flop back down on your pillows. 

 "So. Any questions, Zacharias?" 

 He's surprised that you're asking, and though he doesn't want to twist the metaphorical knife in your gut, he still replies honestly: "Too many."

 A long exhale through your nose, and then you're patting the mattress next to you and grumbling, "Fine, I'll do my best, but you gotta come up here."

 "Why? You gonna need to cuddle afterward?" He can't help but tease. 

 "Fuckin' maybe, dude! We're about to get into my god damn trauma so—"

 Mike is up on his feet and flying toward the bed. He isn't about to sabotage the one fucking moment you're opening yourself up. 

 "Alright, what first?" You ask, trying to look bored, but Mike can clearly see that you're nervous. 

 "He left." 

 "Yeah."

 And then he gets the full story. 

 Your dad was pretty perfect during your younger years—a bit of a workaholic but still good. He took you to dances like the one you'd both dressed for in the photograph. You'd spend days at amusement parks where he'd carry you on his shoulders. He coached the basketball team you'd played on as a child.

 "Not saying he played favorites, but I was definitely closer to him than my brother was."

 The brother who developed a drug problem at fourteen, who was always either out with his little addict friends or at home where he would just scream at you and your mom. 

 "He went to rehab a couple times, but it didn't stick." 

 He left home at seventeen and hasn't gotten in touch with you or your parents since. 

 "I keep thinking one day we'll get a call from the police saying they found his wallet on a fucking corpse, but who knows. Maybe he got clean. Maybe he started a family somewhere else. He'd be twenty-five now."

 "Were you ever close with him?"

 You shrug. "We spent a lot of time together when we were really little, but even back then he was kinda a mean kid."

 It very quickly circles back to your father. Mike still doesn't feel like he has all the answers, so he asks through the skin of his lip, "Why'd he leave?"

 At this point, you've got your head in his lap as he sits against the wall. He smooths your hair back from your face every once in a while, something his mom used to do to him when he was very young that always soothed him. 

 He hopes it's having the same effect on you, thinks it might be considering you've had your eyes closed for a while now, humming now and then as you talk. 

 "Honestly, I don't really know. I don't think he and my mom were ever in love. Like, they just kinda settled for each other," you sigh. "They didn't have a lot in common. They had different upbringings. But, they didn't fight or anything—not in front of us. They were good at hiding the hard times from me and my brother. They just didn't… click."

 Mike bites his tongue, wonders if that was hard to watch or if you'd been too naive to notice. 

 Then, there's his second train of thought that's really just the voice in his head screaming, we click, though! You and I work! But he keeps it to himself. This isn't about you and him. 

 "I think maybe dad had, like, a 'stay together for the kids' mentality 'cause as soon as I graduated, he was fuckin' gone. And, I mean gone. We went to a graduation party the next weekend that lasted a few hours—just me and mom—and when we got back his truck wasn't in the driveway and his drawers were empty. He left that note you read on my desk."

 Mike breathes. Just breathes. He tries to make sense of it, how someone could just do that without a real reason. There hadn't been any explanation in the letter, only apologies. 

 "Have you seen him since?" 

 You open your eyes and reply, "Nope," popping the 'p'. "I don't know where he is, and he hasn't reached out. Mom made the drive to my grandma's—his mom—but she said she didn't know where he was either. Pretty sure she was covering for him, though. She was always kind of a bitch. You know, save for the whole paying for my college and all."

 Mike snorts at this, not that there's anything funny about the situation. It's just his first reaction. 

 You ignore it, moving on with an, "Anyway."

 "Anyway," he mimics. 

 "I don't know if you've noticed in the short time you've been here, but my mom is a little… off. Not super good at taking care of herself."

 "Is this why?" 

 "Clever boy," you show a bitter smile. "I didn't really understand since they weren't, like, in love or whatever, but… I think it was the betrayal more than anything. Like, it came outta nowhere, a big ol' slap in the face."

 "Plus, he left you behind," Mike adds, as if you don't already know. 

 Looking up at him, you raise your eyebrows and smirk. "And, now you know about my abandonment issues." The last part comes out in high-pitched, melodic syllables, a little song that would be funny if Mike didn't know it was a coping mechanism. It most definitely is, though. He can tell that you're the type to mask every issue with humor and sarcasm. It's how you've been dealing with him for the last several months. 

 "So, that's my story," you conclude on an exhale. "Now you know all my dirty secrets."

 "For some reason I don't think that's all of them," Mike pets your hair again. "But, probably the important ones."

 "Mm. I guess."

 The rest of the day is really just spent killing time. You cook an easy dinner that you refuse to let Mike help with, then sit in the den with your mom just like you did at lunch. A medical show is playing. Then a reality show. Then a game show. None of you say much of anything, and it's painfully awkward for Mike now that he knows what happened, but he can power through a few days of this if it makes you feel better. 

 Hours pass until you can retreat, and moonlight shines through your bedroom window, not that Mike needs it. He's memorized your body at this point, knows where to touch without even seeing. He makes sure to be gentle, to suckle and blow on your pebbled nipples as you card fingers through his hair and breathe faster and faster. 

 Leaving love bites down your chest and stomach, he sucks on your skin, gently grazing his teeth over every bruise. Mike wants you to see them all the next day—not a staked claim, just something you can't ignore when you look in the mirror, evidence of his feelings in every mark. 

 When you're finally nice and relaxed, he spreads your legs and licks into you, trying not to be too rough with his beard, but a few swipes of it over your clit leave you shaking in his grasp. You whisper his name, the common one that everyone knows him by, but then, rolling off your tongue like a prayer, you call him, "Miche," and he can't help the rumble that rises in his chest. 

 It should be strange. That's the name only his family uses, the one he was born with. He only simplified it so that kids in school wouldn't ask questions or make fun of him, and after that, it just sort of stuck. But, here and now, falling from your lips, it's so soft. So intimate. 

 You whimper when he sucks on your folds, making them swell, making them sensitive. And then, he's pushing his tongue inside of you and humming happily at the taste. His nose is bumping against your clit, and Christ, you even smell good to him—that ripe, tangy aroma that has Mike going a little crazy. He has to make sure he doesn't get too carried away. You can't make very much noise even with the rattling of the air conditioner, but as he slowly slides a finger into your pussy, he hears you moan around the fist you're holding to your mouth. 

 He stretches you just enough to get you ready, then he holds himself over you and pushes into your wet cunt. Your eyes are open, locked with Mike's as your brow raises and your jaw drops. It's erotic, something you've never done with him before. You typically either gaze somewhere other than his face or keep your eyes squeezed shut. 

 Tonight, though, you've been vulnerable and apparently want to stay that way for a little while longer. 

 He bends to catch you in a kiss, lips and tongues moving just as slowly as his hips, and when you reach to tug at Mike's hair, he pants into your mouth. 

 Those words are there again, stuck in his throat but slowly crawling upward until they're just there, pouring from his tongue, "I lo—"

 Until you cut him off with a sharp, "Don't."

 He makes a noise of frustration, wants to protest because he's so deep inside of you, and you're holding onto him like you want him—truly want him, but you mutter once more against his lips, "Don't say it, Miche."

 So, he doesn't. He bottles the confession up and keeps it locked away, hoping like hell that one day you'll let him tell you. 

 After you climax and coat his cock in slick and cream, he gives a few more thrusts and comes inside of you, filling you with himself and wondering why you're so willing to accept him in that way but not in any other. 

 He's hurting again, like he did at his parents' as you walked around like you belonged there. Except it's worse now. 

 If you don't want him to say it, that means you don't want to say it back. 

 He stays with you for a few more minutes before pulling out. You leave to clean up, and while you're gone, Mike sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he tries to get it all out of his system, whispering it out loud to himself: 

 I love you. I love you, I love you.  

 You still let him hold you as you fall asleep, gripping his hand until you can't anymore, and as Mike drifts off behind you, he has one last thought—Just let me.

* There’s only three weeks left of the semester when you head back to campus, and you intend to make the most of every passing day. 

 You pay better attention in class. You study harder in the library to prepare for final exams. You go to a few more Pi Alpha Kappa parties, making sure not to burn yourself out. And, you let Mike fuck your brains out every few days. Sometimes it’s late at night after those parties. Sometimes you're too tired after the nights of drinking and end up just going to bed only to wake up in the morning and have slow, sleepy sex. Sometimes it’s in the middle of the afternoon when you both have breaks between classes.

 Neither of you bring up anything that happened over the break—meeting families, details about your childhoods, how much you learned about one another in general.

 Most importantly, neither of you address that first night at your mom’s, the way Mike had basically worshiped your body, how he’d come so close to uttering the three words you least want to hear. 

 Thinking about it still makes your chest tighten, your heart beat faster. Sometimes when you’re sharing his bed with him, back pressed to his chest, large arm slung over your waist, you think about why it is you’re so vehemently against it. The two of you already act like a couple most of the time. You walk with each other to class when you can. You stick to each other’s sides at parties. You fuck like rabbits and don’t care who knows about it. 

 And, though you’re hesitant to admit it even to yourself, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. Mike is your best friend at this point. He’s insanely hot. He’s goofy. He’s kind. Yeah, the frat boy persona he puts on around his friends is annoying, but you understand it a little better now. Plus, he always takes off the mask when he’s alone with you, giving both you and himself a break from it.

 You know your time with him is quickly coming to an end—for about two months, at least—and whenever you think too hard about it, it makes you pout and huff. You’re not looking forward to your summer classes without him, but he promises on several occasions that you can call him while he’s at his parents’ if you ever need help with the material.

 It’s impressive, the way he’s able to act like nothing happened. You know it must be troubling him, but it’s not like you can do anything to soothe him. If he was really upset with you, he would have stopped spending time with you, but he hasn’t. He just bottles it up, keeps smiling at you all crookedly, and keeps satisfying you in the bedroom (more than satisfying honestly. There’s really not a word to describe what he does).

 He’s back to getting along with everyone in the Pike house, everyone being Erwin. It’s a relief just because you don’t have to put up with the tension between them, but it’s also awkward. And, a little frightening. 

 The brothers have Smash Brothers tournaments and movie nights, a few date parties here and there, and it never fails that at some point during the evenings, you find your neck prickling as it always does when you feel someone staring at you. You always hope it’s Mike. Fuck, you wish it was him. But, when you glance up and around, it’s Erwin. Every time. His deep blue eyes are trained on you, the corner of his mouth twitching upward on one side. It doesn’t matter if he’s alone or if he’s got Maddie or some other girl sitting in his lap. He's fucking shameless, and it makes your stomach hurt.

 You keep your mouth shut for the sake of the friendship but also for the sake of Erwin’s pretty face. If he and Mike ever got into an actual fight, Erwin would probably be able to get a good few punches in, but you’re nearly positive Mike would end up destroying him in the long run. That could get him kicked out of school. That could get him thrown in jail. 

 Finals roll around, and you manage to pass all of them without issue, even getting grades above the class average. You feel fantastic, like your long term goals might actually be attainable. You have a long road ahead of you, but your GPA at the end of the year is more than enough to raise your confidence. 

 Mike asks you to come back to his house for the couple weeks between the end of the semester and the start of your summer courses, but you turn him down, too scared of what might happen while you’re there. Acting like a couple in front of his parents will only exacerbate his feelings as well as yours, and you’d like to avoid that as best you can. 

 Even now as you’re standing outside by the Jeep, he tries to persuade you one last time, almost pleading, “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

 “Miche, I’m sure,” you tell him, trying to stay stern, but it’s hard when his sea glass eyes light up at the sound of his real name. It’s a habit you’ve gotten into, a bad one considering how much he likes it. How much you like it. “I already told you I wanna spend the free time I have at mom’s. I need to check up on her and… Probably clean, honestly.”

 He lets out a little grunt of disappointment, then nods. “Yeah, I get it.”

 “You saw what she’s like,” you remind him. “Someone needs to drop in every once in a while to make sure she isn’t, like, wasting away or something.”

 “Makes sense. I’ll be bummed, though.”

 “Be bummed all you want,” you smile. “I’ll probably still bother you over break. A lot.”

 He sounds terribly sincere when he mumbles, “You never bother me.” It makes your stomach flip in the way you do not enjoy.

 Mike sighs, taking in one of those deep breaths that makes his broad chest rise then fall, calling attention to it and making you bite your bottom lip. 

 “Alright, I should get going,” he concedes, bending down to kiss you too deeply for simple friends with benefits. It doesn’t stop you from humming into his mouth and smiling against him. You hold him by the back of his neck as he pulls your body close to his, his voice muffled when he tells you mischievously, “Don’t forget to send pictures.”

 It makes you laugh, and you lean back to swipe your tongue over his lips so that he groans and chases after you. 

 “I promise I will. Perv.” The beating sun is nothing in comparison to the way your body heats at the thought. You’ve sent him nudes before, but the idea of him looking at them from hours away, fisting his cock as he admires your body through his phone… It makes seeing him off even harder.

 After a couple more softer kisses, Mike swings into the Wrangler and pulls out of the lot. You stand in his parking space and watch him until he’s out of sight, then walk back to your dorm, dragging your feet the whole way. 

 You only stay at your mom’s house for a week, and just like you predicted, you spend most of it cleaning. She thanks you the whole time but makes excuses in between. You just reassure her that you don’t mind even though you do. She really should see a therapist and sort out the depression she’s been stuck in for a few years now, but telling someone they need professional help is easier said than done. 

 Sleeping in your old bed is much harder this time around. You're all too aware of the weight that isn't behind you, and most nights you lay awake for at least a couple of hours trying to imagine it. 

 Like you’d promised, you send him a few pictures, some of them just lewd selfies with your tits pouring out of the cups of your bra, but others are of your naked body in the bathtub, sometimes a shot of you with your hand between your legs. It feels wrong to touch yourself in your childhood home, but it’s necessary, especially when Mike sends you a few pictures of his own—one with his torso on display, defined abs absolutely mouthwatering and the V of his hips suggestively leading into mesh shorts. Another is of him in the gray joggers he wears all the time, the ones that always show off his cock. 

 He’s so fucking hot it atually hurts, makes your pussy throb as you crave his touch. It’s an awful feeling honestly, but even worse than that is the way you miss him. You aren’t supposed to miss him. You’re just supposed to be friends who have sex. Nothing more than that.

 It's why you’re glad to go back to school. Your classes will distract you, keep you from thinking about him too much. The semester is shorter during the summer, so you have to work even harder than you do during fall and spring. You don’t really think it’ll be a problem since you’re trying to cram your brain full of anything other than Mike which is great motivation for studying. 

 Nothing is gonna get you off track, you tell yourself. Nothing will interfere with your studies. That’s the plan.

 Then, you meet Zeke Jaeger. 

* You're studying in the library. It seems like you spend most of your time here, nice and quiet and empty. The campus isn't nearly as busy in the summer as it is during the rest of the school year. No parties, no sporting events, just you alone with your books. 

 It's nice. Most of the time. A little boring but mostly nice. 

 Your eyes are getting tired, and when you check your phone, you realize why. It's almost eleven PM, meaning you've been studying for about six hours. You've had longer nights, usually spent on the phone getting quizzed on the information you're learning with a few breaks in between, but that wasn't the case tonight as Mike had to spend the day with family from out of town. 

 It's okay. You're supposed to be distancing yourself anyway. 

 Taking a deep breath, you pack up your books and slide your laptop into your bag, then stand and swing it over your shoulder. 

 The strap is too long. The bag swings too hard, and your heart sinks when you hear a little grunt followed by a, "Agh, hot!" 

 Turning with wide eyes, you immediately start apologizing, "I'm so sorry, oh my god, fuck, I'm so sorry!"

 A head of light blond hair looks up from the brown stain on his white t-shirt, icy blue eyes narrowed behind wire-rimmed glasses, but when he sees the mortification on your face, his own expression softens, and he chuckles. 

 "It's fine. You can calm down."

 You're still breathing heavily, guilt making your hands shake, but he really doesn't look angry. In fact, he's grinning now, eyebrows raised like he's amused. 

 The longer you stare at him, the more familiar he looks. You're pretty sure you've seen him before. Many times before, actually, and then it clicks that this guy is on the front page of the school website. You see him every fucking time you log in, looking much more stern than he does now. Baseball hat and jersey, mitt on one hand as he hides his other in it, and yeah, you know him. 

 "You're Zeke Jaeger."

 He makes a face, scrunching his nose up and squinting. "Yeeeeah, I guess I am."

 Best pitcher in the college league despite being a sophomore like you. He's beaten the records of some major league players. 

 You don't give a fuck about baseball, have never even been to any of the school's games, but you've been hearing about Zeke since the last season. You've learned to tune it out because, again, no shits given (and also you're much more partial to lacrosse now), but he's hard to ignore when he's staring you right in the face. 

 "Well, uh," you try to act casual. It's something you're pretty good at these days. "Cool."

 He snorts, picking his shirt off his chest to air it out like it'll help, then says, "I don't know your name, though."

 You run your tongue over your teeth, wondering why he cares, then introduce yourself. 

 "Oh, you're Zacharias' little girlfriend, aren't you?"

 Your stomach flips at the mention of him. 

 "We're not dating."

 Zeke cocks his head to the side. "No?"

 "No. Just friends."

 He hums but doesn't say anything, and your eyes are once again drawn to his chest as he fans over the stain. 

 "Okay, let me get you a new shirt or something," you try. 

 He laughs again. "I highly doubt you've got a men's shirt tucked in that bag of yours, sweetheart."

 "I—" you pout for a second, mumble, "Okay, yeah, fair point."

 "Another coffee, though," he muses out loud. "Wouldn't be the worst thing."

 You shoot him a finger gun and smack your lips. "On it. Where do you get coffee at eleven o'clock?"

 "I'll walk with you," he states more than offers. 

 Then, you're both leaving the library, leaving campus, and going to a little 24 hour cafe where you blow on lattes and cover the basics about each other—philosophy major, valedictorian of his high school class, playing baseball since age seven, etc. You should sleep. You should get ready for another long day of studying.  

 But it's hard to make good decisions when Zeke Jaeger is smirking at you from across the table like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen. 

* Zeke gets your number that night. You're not exactly sure how, but he does. 

 Then he doesn’t text you for three days. It doesn’t bother you that much. You figure he has other things to focus on. He’s on campus to take a couple courses and practice for the upcoming season, so he’s probably just busy. If that night had just been a one-off, it’s fine with you. It was cool to talk to him, but your heart isn’t broken.

 These are all the thoughts and justifications running through your head when you’re in class on Tuesday and your phone lights up during the PowerPoint lecture. You glance down, expecting Mike or Hitch, but it’s an unknown number instead. Eyes flicking from the projection screen to your much tinier one, you slide to open the message and chew on your lip. 

 Hey, it’s Zeke. You have classes this afternoon?

 You do not. And, you are too quick to tell him that.

 He takes you to a little Mom and Pop restaurant, too far to walk so you end up riding in the black Bronco he drives, trying to convince yourself that it definitely does not make him any more attractive to you. Because you aren’t attracted to him in the first place. Right?

 You sit at a table for two eating paninis and fruit. Zeke asks how classes are going, you ask about practice, and as you talk, he gets that look in his eyes again, like you amuse him or interest him or something.

 It confuses you, and for a moment, you’re taken back to last fall at that first Pi Kappa Alpha party, the one you met Mike at when he tried to get you to shotgun a beer. God, he had been so obnoxious back then, always following you around and flirting and—

 “You listening, sweetheart?”

 Your eyes refocus on the man in front of you, his raised eyebrows and little smirk. “Looks like you’re a million miles away. Sorry if I’m boring you.”

 “No, no,” you try to defend. “I just zoned out for a second. Realized I, uh, got an answer wrong on the quiz I took today.”

 “That sucks,” he hums. “Anyway, I can stop talking about baseball.”

 “It’s okay. Just go over the last, like, ten seconds,” you say with a laugh, hoping your cheeks will stop burning sooner rather than later.

 Zeke chuckles and does just that, doesn’t seem irritated or put out. He tells you about how he has a new trainer this year to warm him up and make sure his throwing arm is in top shape. “I hope he’s as good as my last. Colt was always on it, knew exactly how hot to make the warm compresses and how cold to make the ice packs. Stuff like that. He learned my needs.”

 You both laugh, and if it was anyone else, you’d have an innuendo sliding off your tongue, but for some reason, you don’t think Zeke would want to hear it, like he’d be unimpressed with your vulgar humor. 

 Back at the college, he drives you to your dorm, explaining that he lives in the apartments on the other side of campus and wouldn’t want to make you walk that far. Then, as you slide out of the Bronco, he stops you with a smooth, “Hey,” that makes you look over your shoulder at him. “Make sure you save my number in your phone, okay? I’ll text you soon.”

 The way your stomach flips is worrisome, a feeling you’re only used to when you’re with…

 “Yeah, okay.”

 He grins widely and nods, then waits for you to get a good distance away from the car before driving off.

 No distractions, you’d said. It’ll be good for your focus, you’d said. 

 What a fucking joke. 

*

Mike has to help you with some homework that weekend. You can hear his smile through the phone, snort when he makes his little nerd jokes, then sigh when he gets to the actual subject and explains it to you without a problem. His brain is incredible, and when you think about it too hard, it makes you warm inside. 

 “You’re so fucking smart. Why don’t you let people know?”

 “Maybe I just want you to know,” he chuckles. “You think I wanna spend my days tutoring every idiot who needs help?”

 “Miche, did you just call me an idiot?”

 You hear another breathy laugh followed by a sigh. “I have many, many names for you, but ‘idiot’ isn’t one of them.”

 “Oh yeah?” You play. “And, what might those other names be?”

 He lists a few, all of them making your face flush and your body tingle, and before you know it, you’ve got your pants off and your fingers between your legs. You can hear Mike’s heavy breathing on the other end, the wet sound of his hand stroking his lubricated cock, and when you reach your climax, you moan out your usual, “Oh fuck, oh fuck, Miche.” 

 He tumbles down right behind you, panting and telling you in a voice of disbelief, “Jesus, it just keeps coming.” It makes the pulses of your orgasm even stronger, remembrance of all the times he’s painted you in white, and God, you are so ready for him to get back to the school.

 Then, there’s the voice in the back of your head that makes you think maybe it’s better that he’s gone for now, that he might not be too pleased that you’re spending time with another guy. But, it’s not like things with Zeke are going anywhere. You wouldn’t even call him a friend. You text on and off, have brunch or lunch or coffee depending on the time of day. 

 And, yeah, he calls you pet names, tells you that you look nice even when you’re just in leggings and a t-shirt, talks about his family and…

 Okay, it could potentially lead to something more, but it’s only been a week, and considering his golden boy status, he could have anyone he wants, so why would he even be interested in you in any way, shape, or form?

 Naturally, your thoughts circle back to Mike and the way he could have any girl on his arm, but he still chooses to spend time with you. To fuck you. To nearly confess his feelings to you. You have to wonder if you’re emitting some kind of scent or beacon, if there’s a sign hanging above your head with an arrow pointing down. Sports gods, come get a piece. 

 If only you’d never gone to that party. If you had just kept your head down like you had freshman year. Your life would be so much easier now.

 But now you’re in Zeke’s apartment listening to him rant about some philosopher you’ve never even heard of. He’s gesturing with his hands, flipping curling, blond bangs from his face, and whenever he pauses to think, he scratches his beard. He’s very fond of the white t-shirts and jeans get-up, sometimes switches it up and wears a button down under a sweater vest. Both looks are becoming of him no matter how much you try to deny it, but when he drops down onto the couch next to you and peers into your god damn soul with those piercing, blue eyes, you have to choke back a dreamy sigh.

 What is happening to you?

 “So, what do you think about it?” He asks, looking hopeful that you might have some insight on this matter.

 But, you simply laugh and shake your head. “Zeke,” you start. “I’m gonna be real honest with you here. I didn’t understand a fucking thing you just said.”

 You assume he’ll be disappointed, maybe tire of you since you can’t be as intellectually stimulating as he’d like you to, but Zeke exhales in a lighthearted sort of way, shows one of those amused smiles, and tells you, “You’re cute.”

 Anyone else and you would have snapped back, something along the lines of, don’t fucking patronize me, but with Zeke, all you can do is stare at him and let your lips part, silently asking for something you won’t speak out loud.

 His gaze moves to your mouth for a split second. That soft smile turns into one of his famous smirks. Then, he’s back on his feet and asking, “You wanna go to dinner?”

 You are more than relieved at the shift in atmosphere, but your heart is still beating too hard as you follow him downstairs and to his car. 

* Summer is passing quickly. Too quickly. The eleven week classes are kicking your ass, or are close to kicking your ass. Lucky for you, you have your own private tutor just a call or text away. Mike helps you, and you laugh and goof around, shoot off innuendo after innuendo, but the phone sex slows to a halt eventually. You tell him that you’re tired, and you are. It isn’t a lie. But, it also isn’t the full truth.

 Between classes when you could be resting, you’re eating out with Zeke. Or, watching him and the rest of the baseball team practice for the upcoming season. Or, sitting in his apartment, watching movies and chatting about all manner of things. Nothing important, of course—there’s no diving deep into your life story like you had done with Mike over Spring Break, but Zeke still learns the little things about you. Why you’re majoring in geosciences and how you became good friends with some of the Pike guys. You don’t give him the full details on that one—that you got blackout drunk and fucked Mike and just couldn’t stop. You don’t think Zeke would be interested in hearing about it anyway.

 You learn a bit about his dad and stepmom, the latter of whom he isn’t very fond of. He also has a little brother who’ll be attending the college starting this fall, and he’s interested in the Greek life. Naturally, you build PKA up. Even if there are some… Problematic people in the house, there are also a lot of really good guys. 

 “I’ll make sure to pass it along to him,” Zeke tells you one evening as you’re both sprawled on the couch, backs against the armrests as you face each other. It’s how he seems to prefer to sit when the TV isn’t on. When you asked him why, he had told you, “Just like looking at you,” and you didn’t know how to respond. You still don’t know how to respond.

 “Eren thinkin’ about joining any sports?” You ask now. “Does baseball run in the family or anything?”

 Zeke snorts. “Kid couldn’t hit a baseball even if it was on one of the t-ball stands.”

 “I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

 “I would say he’s more academically inclined, but,” Zeke sighs. “That would be a lie.”

 You can never tell if he actually likes his brother. Most of the time he complains about him, but every once in a while he’ll bring up something cute Eren did as a little boy, and you see a fond glimmer in his light eyes. 

 “Anyway,” Zeke waves off the subject and transitions to a new one—one that makes your stomach drop. “Are you gonna tell Zacharias about us?”

 You choke on your own spit, leaning forward to cough a couple times, then challenge him with a nervous laugh, “I wasn’t aware there was anything to tell him.”

 Zeke tilts his head, mouth pulling up as he raises his eyebrows. “Come on,” he chuckles.

 “Come on, what?” You frown. If you were with Mike, you both would have died at that. Come on my face, you can hear him say, and you have to fight a smile because there’s absolutely no way you could explain that to the man in front of you.

 “You don’t have to play coy, sweetheart. We both know there’s something going on between us.” He says it with such confidence that even if he wasn’t right you wouldn’t be able to argue with him. The assumption should annoy you, should make you scoff and leave, but instead you sit there staring, caught up in his gaze and cocky grin.

 “I—”

 “It’s okay, you know. Not like you’re alone in this.”

 Those questions swim through your mind again, all the insecurities that you’ve been sorting through with Mike, but now that voice is louder because that sense of trust hasn’t formed yet. You’ve only connected with Zeke over meals and movies. It sounds domestic, but despite your apparently obvious attraction to him, you still don’t feel like you really know him. 

 But, he draws you in, like a moth to a flame. You can’t help it. There’s just something about him that makes you want him to like you, like you want to impress him, like you want to be good for him. You’ve been trying to ignore those thoughts, but they’re much harder to fight now that you’re sitting in front of him, taking in his wavy hair and pale blue eyes, that ever present smirk on his face, the curve of his neck that disappears into his shirt.

 He could just want sex. He could just want a fling. Wait for everyone to get back on campus and drop you for another girl. You tell yourself you wouldn’t care; you’re good at keeping things casual.

 Wouldn’t it be fun to be his arm candy for a while, though? Let people look at you and whisper louder than they did when they’d see you and Mike together? You don’t care about status, about being in the spotlight. It’s more for the experience, dating someone who could teach you things.

 Mike teaches you things, that voice pops up again. He’s been helping you with your work for almost a year now. You can’t just overlook that. 

 “What, are you weighing the pros and cons over there or something?”

 You snort. “Maybe. We still don’t really know each other all that well, Zeke.”

 “Might I remind you that we’ve been hanging out all summer? Did you honestly think it wouldn’t lead to anything more?”

 “Honestly,” you mimic, “I never thought you’d be interested.”

 “Why wouldn’t I be?” His brow furrows like he’s genuinely confused. “You’re smart. You’re funny. You’re cute.” 

 God, you can’t even count how many times he’s called you ‘cute’, how many times it’s made you blush over the last several weeks, just like it does now.

 Then, he pushes, “Do you not find me at—”

 “Of course I do,” you cut him off. “I don’t know who doesn’t, which is exactly why I don’t know where this is coming from.”

 Zeke sighs like he’s annoyed, then turns the hand on his thigh palm up and beckons you with two fingers. “Come here.”

 “What?”

 “Come here.”

 Your blood pressure spikes, breaths coming in little puffs that have no way of getting to your brain. It’s probably why you obey, rolling to your knees and clumsily crawling over to him. You stop short, right between his bent knees, but Zeke sits up, straightens his legs, and pulls you into his lap.

 More of that precious air leaves your lungs as you exhale too sharply, staring at him with huge eyes. You don’t know what’s happening, can’t believe it’s happening. It doesn’t feel real even as you rest your hands on his shoulders, even when he holds your hips and pulls you so that your full weight is on him, but fuck, you can’t say anything. You can’t make a sound. All you can do is wait for him to make his next move.

 “Why do you look scared?” His voice is just above a whisper, but at this proximity you can hear him without a problem. 

 “I don’t have a lot of experience sitting in men’s laps,” you manage, trying to keep your usual careless tone, but you doubt it works.

 “For some reason I don’t believe that.”

 You rear back, actually offended. “Excuse m—”

 That ire, however, melts away as quickly as it arose. Zeke slides fingers up your waist, all the way to the back of your neck to bring your face to his—your lips to his. 

 He feels different, not at all what you’re used to. His kiss is more demanding, hungry, and God, you still can’t breathe, can’t think straight because his tongue is moving past your lips, and you’re letting it, letting him taste you as your fingertips dig into the flesh of his shoulders. You lift yourself from him just a little only for Zeke to pull you back down with the hand still gripping your hip. He makes sure you feel him when he grinds up into you, the zipper of his jeans rubbing you through your little shorts so that you gasp into his mouth. 

 You both stay like that for what feels like a fucking eternity, biting and sucking on lips, stroking over each others’ tongues until you absolutely have to break apart. You’re panting now, body still tense on top of his, and Zeke stares at you with half-lidded eyes and shows the ghost of a smile.

 “Oh, I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

 The statement sets you on fire, so much so that all you can do is whimper quietly and lean in for more. 

  And, as you get lost in Zeke Jaeger, you decide for yourself.

I need to tell Mike

[ next ]

[http-mingi]

room 657. ⤑ jjk + kth ☏︎

⟶ 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 : you didn't even realise you were calling a hotline. you're best friend jimin gave you a random number. he said it was a surprise ? well you're in for one.

♡︎ 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 : sexhotline!au, worker!taehyung, worker!jungkook, student!reader

♡︎ 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 : ∝ filthy smut if you squint there’s fluff

♡︎ : 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 : sorry i fr forgot to do the word count !!

⟶ 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 : stressed reader, soft!dom jungkook, harddom!tae , big cock!tae, bigcock!jungkook, size kink??, sub!reader, pussy eating, dirty talk, face riding, hair pulling, fingering, cum eating, praise kinda?? unprotected sex, roughsex, multiple orgasms, heavy heavy dom sub themes, brat!reader , dom/sub themes, pet names, daddy!kink, threesome, dirty talk, cunnilingus, orgasm denial, begging, humiliation, creampie, intense orgasms(?), multiple orgasms, cum eating, insecurities, derogatory language, sexual face-slapping, punishments, dumbification, overstimulation, basically pwp.

let's go!

you sighed heavily as your boots clicked along the laminated floor of your university.

today so far had been a hassle. traffic kept you 2 hours late from school you were earlier fired from your job. your ex boyfriend had recently been stalking you and to top it off there was no hot water this morning.

you were beyond stressed.

most of the time you could deal with it you had thousands of stress relieving techniques. but this time you were all types of frustrated, with school, your job, sexually, friendships, family. you sighed heavily as you dragged yourself inside your classroom.

the bright walls of your university aided in your pounding headache. the distinct smell of coffee and muffins flooded your nose as you blinked slowly.

the tall dark bookcases shielding you from the sunlight as you sluggishly made your way to your seat.

you slumped down on your chair as you massaged your temples in effort to calm your self down. your headache clouded your vision immensely you hastily downed your water and some paracetamol nursing your forehead throughout.

you hadn’t been out on a real date in months. it seemed like the universe didn’t want you on dates, you rarely ever found yourself being okay with that fact.

whilst in a trance your best friend jimin walked excitedly into the classroom.

he constantly and i mean constantly reminded you off the things you were missing out on but it wasn’t like you didn’t want to go out but the issue was you were way too busy.

being an english, law and history major meant that you were constantly studying literally.

you did love him though he always tried for you.

"_____ !! " your friend jimin called out to you. you grumbled in annoyance as you turned your neck towards him.

"what." you sighed out tiredly.

" what the- what's wrong with you ______ ?!" he exclaimed loudly.

" jimin... why are you so loud. " you whine loudly.

“ shut up ___ im literally your only friend.” he said nonchalantly.

“ stopppp!” you whined with a breathy giggle.

“ anyways what are you doing here you have biology?” you asked innocently wiping your exhausted eyes.

“ uhhh... well..”

“ spit it outtt.” you say , head tilting slightly.

" sorry _____ i just- i have a number to give you and i don't call it until you get home! trust me you'll thank me later!!”

0800-765-877

it looked like a legit number so you decided to trust him this one time.

"come on ____ class ended 20 minutes ago wake up." he whined loudly.

" what.....? " you yawned as you groggily wiped your eyes.

jimin let out an exasperated sigh as he dragged you out of class and to your apartment.

" i love you but sometimes i feel like stabbing you. " he says plainly.

" sorry chim, ive just been really stressed lately. i'll make it up to you i promise."

"you can make it up to me by calling that number, it'll solve all your problems i promise."

" jimin... did you connect me to a sugar daddy or something? " you asked as you flopped down onto your sofa

" something like that." he said grinning

" okay well you can go home now . " you muttered yawning

" promise me you'll call them? "

" okay, okay now you can go. "

as jimin left you groaned into your pillow did you have to call them it wasn't really gonna change anything. but at the same time jimin would do the same for you.

your home was simple, minimalistic but you loved it your soft grey sofa in the corner. your small tv playing comfort noise in the background.

you fought your tiredness to finish your essay due for next week. you ached in places you didn't even know you had the most you were aching was down there.

you hadn't had any sexual action in weeks even months.

you decided to go up to your room to try and relive yourself.

you sighed as your hands hovered over the pulsating area.

as a finger trailed it's way up your slit you involuntarily whined as you got tired of the foreplay you plunged a finger inside your soppy cunt.

your plush walls also fighting to relish your much needed orgasm as you groaned into your pillow.

you moaned, whined, groaned and breathed heavily as you desperately tried to reach your high.

you angrily quickened your pace. you were trying so hard yet you still weren't feeling anything.

in a huff you decided to stop trying to reach your endless high.

in the corner of your eye you saw the number jimin had left you.

it wouldn't hurt to call right?

it wasn't gonna be anything weird..... right ?

you took a small breathe as your fingered trembled attempting to type in the numbers.

1 ring

2 rings

3 rings

......

" h-hello? " you whispered out meekly

" hey honey, why don't you speak up for us?" the man on the other end spoke in a deep voice

" im sorry i- i don't know what this- is r-really for?" you spoke slightly louder as you stumbled over your words

"it's a sexhotline darling? "

" i- i well oh...” you huffed out , eyes widening softly you were lost in a trance of thought.

you were suddenly put on hold.

your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you gave yourself time to think.

it wouldn’t hurt right?

you were basically an adult, you felt like a teenage girl again.

so you decided.

Putting a client on hold was a part of their fun. It allows the person to wait and to draw out the anticipation. however in this case you were just confused.

you’ve been pacing back and forth inside your bedroom for minutes it was half eleven in the night , and you certainly didn’t think that your attention would be on this instead of your essay.

suddenly you heard another 'hello' erupt from the phone quickly you grabbed your device breathing heavily you gulped and mustered up your voice.

" h- hi i just want you to know that y-you can carry on I've been- struggling and i- need some just some help?" you say whispering the last part.

" you want us to help you cum bun? " another voice said this time it was lighter, kinder in a way.

“don’t make us talk to ourselves, darling.” the other man snarls.

a gasp emits from your dry lips when the tone of his voice turns firm. there was a strict, domineering tinge in his speech that made you sit still. you were too shocked to reply as your mind tried to comprehend the situation that you got yourself into.

“I-I…” you stuttered completely, wanting to smack yourself in the face. the pet names, their voices it was all over whelming you too much.

you let out a needy whine, both of the men groaned quietly into the phone.

" how old are you baby ? " baby. they called you baby.

" i-im 19? "

" fuck, will you be okay with this?" they ask to make sure

jungkook can’t help the soft growl escape his lips. It has been so rare for him to receive callers who aren’t twenty-five and above, and you might be his first time.

“Ohh, baby girl,” he bites his lip, “I think you’re the first client I’ve had who’s so young.” jungkook says to you

“ is that okay , i-im sorry- "

“Oh, its more than okay , baby. You still wanna continue? I can make you feel so…” he pauses, groaning quietly to himself, “so good.”

your pussy clenches around nothing as you felt yourself getting wetter by the second

"  yes daddy. " you say nodding to yourself. you suddenly froze as you realised the contents of your words

taehyung's eyes widen in shock, his mouth agape, certainly not expecting that sudden word to come out of your lips. He throws his head back, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he feels his dick harden.

It was so difficult for him to hold himself back because all he wanted to do was to say the dirtiest, nastiest things that he wants to do to you in your ear. but he had to slow down.

“daddy? Oh, what makes you call me that, hm? baby?”

you feel your throat go dry, your eyes wide in shock. You didn’t know what to respond without being so shocked with yourself.

" i-i just really need you please please please i need it. " you let it all out, you couldn't be bothered to hide it anymore.

“don’t be a brat kitten.“ taehyung snarled into the phone.

“ b-but daddy! please i- i need it so so bad it’s not fair!“ you whined softly as your fingers ghosted your aching, soppy cunt.

they both groaned loudly, as jungkook conversed with taehyung

" kook, fuck i need to do her in real life she's making this so hard for me."

" same here let's just go for it here she's going to make me cum in my pants." he sighed as he palmed himself to your weak whimpers.

" darling, me and tae were wondering if you wanted to do this in real life- we'd fuck you so good honey, you'd become our little cum dump id love to see your body tremble to the force of my cock. " taehyung said interrupting jungkook.

" yes.. please you said as you moaned quietly to their words

" okay bun, we'll text you where to meet us." jungkook breathed out.

the atmosphere was dripping with heavy lust your eyes shut right as you relished their deep gutural voices.

“ i can’t cum daddy please help me cum pleas-“ you begged in frustration

“oh honey, it’s okay sh- sh it’s ok ill help you just be patient okay? you can do that for me right?” jungkook said in a calm tone

" what's your name by the way."

" it's ____." you say meekly

" ____ edge yourself, fuck yourself just do not cum. "

and with that in the call ended

you sighed loudly grinning slightly, you were gonna get your brains done out by two sexy sounding men.

you smiled to yourself giddily as you finally got some sleep.

________________

the next morning you got up and did your daily routine entirely different you waxed everywhere, shaved, exfoliated, moisturised, basically every strawberry flavoured you had in your bathroom.

it was a Saturday, you had time to spare you texted jimin to meet him before you went to meet 'kook' and the other guy.

not to mention you were frustrated beyond belief you had done what they asked you to do and you half hate half love them for it.

on one hand you could cum from any suggestive touch you were given.

on the other hand you couldn't help but want to thank them you felt so ready for them.

you walked to the cafe.

the soft brown walls encompanied the mahogany floors and the cascade of plants across the room as you happily walked into the bustling cafe.

" what's got you so excited." he said grinning like the Cheshire cat

" uh nothing i just had some good sleep last night. " a lie.

" oh really? "

" yeah i even finished my essay!" not true but not false at the same time.

" wow! " jimin looked at you shocked

" jimin do you really have that little faith in me. " you say annoyed

" to be honest no. " he said chuckling

" jiminnn, well i have to be going now i have an appointment soon. " you explain pouting

" an appointment where? "

" somewhere special ? " you say in attempt to hide

" if you say so. " he uttered playfully and he watches you walk away

you stared at the building in front of you as you checked the address again and again it was a massive condo.

you rang the bell of the apartment square and dialled in the number seconds later you were buzzed in.

you took the elevator and anxiously played with your fingers you finally reached the floor you were headed to and walked into room 657 .

" h-hello i-im here it's ______ " you say confused you really made a large mistake.

suddenly turning around, you were pulled into a sloppy kiss. You immediately relaxed into it, wrapping your arms around his neck the deeper it went. Before it could go on too long, he pulled away.

Pressed between both of their bodies, you could help the way your body reacted. Your lips met Taehyung's again and you whimpered.

Jungkook took the opportunity to press his lips against your neck, skimming them over the collar now around your neck.

He hands gripped your waist, pulling your shirt up ever so slightly to touch the skin that became exposed.

Goosebumps across your skin and you gasped into Taehyung's mouth. The elder chuckled, reaching down to where Jungkook's deft fingers explored to tug up the hem of your shirt.

you gasped loudly as you tensed under their touch.

Already, you could feel your mind turning fuzzy, falling into your submissive roll to let them mold you how they wanted.

Jungkook chuckled as you lifted your arms, allowing Taehyung to pull your shirt off. Left in your bra, you couldn't help but cover your chest as vulnerability set in.

"None of that, bun," Jungkook growled softly, ripping your arms away from your chest. "You wanna be a good girl for us right? Let us take care of you?"

"Y-Yes..." You whined, whining when Taehyung leaned down pressing kisses against your chest above the seam of your bra. Gasping, you pushed your chest out to get more of the feeling.

"What a good girl," Taehyung cooed, falling to his knees in front of you.

You leaned back, using Jungkook as support to help Taehyung pull your jeans off completely. He tossed them away in a heap nearby and without wasting a second, his mouth was on your core.

The fabric of your panties put on the side, feeling his mouth on you fully but as he slid his tongue over your slit and caught your clit, you let out a soft moan.

"What a good kitten for us," Jungkook groaned, hands still cupping your breasts. He pinched your nipples, making your back arch as you cried out.

“Is that pretty pussy wet, Princess? Does your cunt ache to be filled by my cock?” jungkook coaxes

The filth of his words doesn’t surprise you, Under his teasing words, you feel yourself grow wet, your lust-filled desire mingling with the humiliation that flutters through you.

"Aw, your pussy that sensitive, baby?" Taehyung cooed pressing his middle finger to glide directly over the patch where your clit was, making your hips curve inwards as the intensity was blare enough to startle you.

He chuckled deeply at that, kind of sounding like a purr and just when you didn't think he could fuck with your sanity anymore than he was already doing, he turned his head to the side and lapped his wet muscle along your jugular vein before enclosing his lips area the area for harsh suck.

you moaned loudly as you arched your back against jungkook. taehyung put one leg over his shoulder to go deeper.

"Daddy!" You cried as his tongue slid through your folds. He moaned at the unimpeded taste of your cunt. Circling your entrance, he eagerly tasted everything you had to offer.

" don't take it all tae, shit she looks hot." jungkook groaned into your neck, biting licking and sucking against your sweet spot.

you whined as you trembled against the two men. you felt hot.

"Fuck!" You shrieked, spasming when he gave you a slap against your sodden folds . " I—!"

" be careful girl." jungkook growled into your ear

you moaned apologies left right and centre as he continued to abuse your aching clit.

suddenly you were harshly pulled away from taehyung's hot wet muscle and pushed into the soft plush bed.

you whined in protest at your denied orgasm.

" now, you're going to choose. me or tae." jungkook questioned sadistically

" i...i can't choose that i okay um jungkook?" you said in a small voice.

" good decision honey, now lie back let me take care of you." he cooed kindly

taehyung scoffed as he sat back

you were more than happy like this, but when you shifted your hips to grind your centre against his, you both groaned open-mouthed into the kiss.

You could feel that he was already hard in his boxers. Knowing that his willing cock was so close to your needy core erased your mind of any thoughts that weren't of him.

When you dragged your clit against him again you keened, the pleasure incredible despite the barriers between you.

he felt so big as you continued your actions

suddenly you felt his large and literally massive cock push into your plush soppy cunt.

you moaned loudly as jungkook groaned.

taehyung smirked as he shook his head.

" get moving i wanna see her squirt."

jungkook rocked back and forth at a steady pace it was amazing don't get me wrong but you wanted more you needed more.

"more! more please harder jungkook please! " you begged.

" princess, don't beg for things you can't keep up with." he chuckled

there was an animalistic gaze in his eye as he started plunging into your pussy, taehyung mouth open jerking himself off at the sight, your open lie open as he ground his fat cock into you.

you felt hot and euphoric and couldn't help but let moans continuously fall out of your mouth.

suddenly you felt a harsh slap on your face. you felt tears well up in your eyes.

Without warning, his cock was rammed inside you. Raw and hard with the way your pussy was soaking wet from your denied orgasm , he began to relentlessly fuck into you.

tears began spilling out of your eyes continuously and your moans became pornographic.

as if he couldn't go any faster he began to drill inside you, your body shook in ecstasy as his fat cock was pistoned into you.

you felt your high approaching, you panicked and begged for them to let you come.

" please! please let me cum ! ill be good , ill be a good girl ! " you cried out towards them

jungkook craned himself to be face to face with you, as he stared at you with his dark and lustful. his wet lips capture yours into a sloppy kiss .

he forced your mouth open and let his tongue glide upon yours. he sucked on the wet muscle softly as you cried out.

everything felt so good, too good.

you came 3 times alone with jungkook and felt overstimulated beyond belief.

" now it's my turn . " taehyung dead panned

" w-what i can't take anymore ill just su- "

" i said. it's my turn. " he uttered in a harsh tone

you wailed in frustration as your body writhed in defeat .

" you're gonna take it . that's what you asked for . " he spat at you.

observing the way your eyes darken, turning neediness, and the way your chest heaves in short breaths, Taehyung’s jaw flexes.

He pressed the tip against your hole, seeing you tense up almost immediately. taehyung rubbed the end of his cock along your wet cunt before sinking himself into you.

" d-daddy ple- ! " you body spasmed against the head board as taehyung suddenly slammed his body into you continuously.

“ you’re such an eager little whore, aren’t you?” he purrs, condescension laced in his tone.

you tightly held onto the relentless man as you felt your high approaching once more.

taehyung’s thrusts became sloppy as he grunted against your neck.

you felt your body swirl and turn around you and you finally came.

hours later

you groggily woke up as you felt your body give out into the bed.

“ hel- hello? ” you said wearily

“ hi princess.” taehyung smirked

“ round 5?” jungkook asked

you sighed as you submitted to them in their bed

here we go again.

5 missed calls from jimin

[julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts]

Fic rec list!!! (part 2)

Anon said I should make a rec list and I really spent an hour and a half going off so here’s part 2!!

i’m on fire (over you) by rocketshiptospace on ao3 - oneshot - willex - soft willex. need I say more?

Alex reaches up his hand to touch Willie’s cheek, and Willie leans into it almost instinctively. Their faces are a lot closer than Alex had initially thought, and suddenly he feels himself pitching forward, pulling Willie towards him, their mouths only inches apart-

There’s a plop somewhere to their left. “Guys! You gotta hear this song I just wrote, it’s insane, wait let me-“ Luke, who has just poofed into the room, looks at Willie and Alex as they hastily shuffle apart. “Am I interrupting something?”

“NO!” Alex says, way too loud, at the same time Willie says, “What, no, nothing.”

Or, the five times Alex wants to kiss Willie and the one time he finally does.

i got your picture, i’m coming with you by coldswaters on ao3 - oneshot - willex - more soft willex. I have so much willex fluff y’all don’t understand

Willie loved drawing Alex. Whether it was Alex playing the drums or Alex writing a song with Luke or Alex doing literally anything, Willie adored drawing Alex.

or

5 times other people saw Willie's drawings of Alex and one time Alex did.

i’ll keep us together (whatever it takes) by @sunsetcurbed - oneshot - willex - angst. much angst. but I love it so much (also happy ending)

“Willie,” Julie’s voice sounds.

“Hey, Julie,” Willie greets. “I—uh—“

“Can Alex not see you?” she whispers.

Okay, so… right. Right. This is a thing.

(or: alex has changed, and he's all but taken away from willie. willie doesn't settle for that.)

how fast the night changes by harleyhearts on ao3 - oneshot - willex - extremely iconic and hilarious, 10/10 do recommend

"I think it's brilliant." Reggie tells him.

"Brilliant?" Alex deadpans, "You think asking Domino's to send your cutest delivery guy is brilliant?"

written in the sand (crashing like waves) by differentsnowflake on ao3

Luke rests a hand on his shoulder.

"Dude, you have to calm down. We're here to have a good time, right? Just the six of us, two weeks at the sea, free food and the Caribbean. Honestly, I don't get how you aren't excited. I mean, look at Reggie. He's excited."

Reggie nods effusively, licking his ice cream. "I am."

Alex knows he should be thankful and excited and everything that his friends are, but there's this anxiety nagging at the back of his head, an insect-like buzzing that tells him that a lot of things could go wrong. He's seen Titanic a lof of times, okay? It's a good movie. And he knows how it ends.

Or, Alex falls in love with a cruise ship worker, and it's even more complicated than you think it is.

Pure of Heart, Dumb of Ass, Home of Sexual by @a-tomb-with-a-view​ - complete - wholesome found family dynamics!! - this is such an iconic fic okay. I know ive said that several times but consider: one of the most iconic molina found family fics

“Alex,” Reggie made a beeline straight for him as soon as he poofed into the studio, “you know how much you love me?”

Alex looked up from where he’d been watching vine compilations on Julie’s laptop. “What do you want?”

Reggie sat down next to him, paused, then started squirming about until he was half laid across Alex, smiling goofily up at him. “So remember how you’re a really great baker?”

the inherent homosexualities of a bowling alley by SapphireAmethystPatch on ao3

The last thing Carrie Wilson wants is to get a job like the other, poorer kids at school, but her father insists. Now, after the peculiar hauntings of a local forgotten bowling alley, work is the highlight of Carrie's week.

Or, Alex and Willie have weekly dates at the bowling alley.

hot dog (romantic) by @pawprinterfanfic - oneshot - willex - okay tbh I would put all of Essie’s works on here bc she’s amazing but this list is already super long so I can only put my absolute favourites. so here have her awesome fluffy willex reunion. also here’s her ao3.

Alex didn't cross over. He survived. And now it's time to find Willie.

or: another willex reunion

[wayward-mikaelson]

I Still Want You, I Still Need You-IV. The Snap

Word Count: 3816

About: A fight is brought to Wakanda leaving you and many others devastated.

Characters: Bucky, Steve, T’Challa, Shuri, Natasha, Bruce, Rhodey, Thor, Thanos, Vision, Wanda, Okoye, and Sam 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (Unprotected-wrap it before you tap it kids and Implied rough sex), Playful Teasing, Fighting, Injuries, Death, Heartbreak

A/N: These last few days I have been having internet trouble but I am back up and running. Also, this ripped my heart as I wrote this so have a tissue or tissue box at hand. I also tried to keep a few of the big IW events in this part.

*This contains content made for 18 and up crowd. Read at your own disrection

**Please do not copy and paste my work anywhere. Reblogs and sharing the link are okay.

***This work is also posted on Wattpad and Archive of our Own. Links can be found in the pinned post on my profile

****Go follow my other accounts. Links can be found in the pinned post on my profile

*****Currently NOT taking request

******Feedback is Welcomed!! 

Forever Tags: @hobby27 @donnaintx @myinconnelly1 @elansaidaris @magssteenkamp @440mxs-wife

Marvel Tags: Open

Story Tags: @cspr-2 @mysticalfestivalkoala @tanyaherondale @lilithknight1111 @lpzallana @snlsamantha @tomisagod @gloriouspersonbanditrascal @buckysgirl101

Bucky/Sebastian Tags: Open

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III. Fresh Air (NSFW)

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The walk wasn’t long and the weather was perfect. It gave your time to think about what you were going to say to Bucky. Steve had called with his monthly check in, it had surprised you due to the hour he called. He knew the time here in Wakanda and he always enjoyed talking to the both of you. So when he called, you had wondered why.

You entered the clearing and got a good view of yours and Bucky’s home. The view of the tree covered mountain always put a smile on your face. No matter what kind of mood you were in. Movement from the corner of your eye caught your attention.

Bucky was playing with two kids from the Border Tribe. You knew these kids pretty well, their parents were hard workers. These boys must have gotten it from their parents because, they would help Bucky with just about anything. Bucky loved it and it made you fall in love all over again with him whenever you saw him with kids.

You continued to walk towards the house with that smile on your face. The days where you saw Bucky messing around and just being himself, God it made you want to give him a child right away. Even you wanted a kid, but in you one year of marriage, it was still you and Bucky. Then again, with how busy the two of you were, you guys never had that conversation.

“Ah, there she is,” Bucky sat up from the ground. “My beautiful and most gorgeous wife.” He stood up and made his way towards you. Soon, you were wrapped in his arm with your lips pressed to his. “I got a lot done today with the twins help,” He mumbled into your lips. “All there’s left is dinner and dessert.” Bucky’s hand slid down from to cup your right ass cheek making you squeal.

“Well,” you pulled back to stare into his blue eyes. The longer he stared at you the darker they got. “Why don’t we send the boys home with some food and we get to work on the rest of the evening.” You motioned the boys to follow you into the house. Soon, they were off with a basket of fruit, bread, cookies and soup.

“Thank you Mister and Missus Barnes!” They called over their shoulders as they walked away. Your cheeks tingled as they called your by Bucky’s last name. You still never got over that people called you Missus Barnes.

You and Bucky had a short ceremony a week after he proposed. Tony would have had a cow if he found out the you weren’t going to have a huge and ravishing wedding. You didn’t care, all that mattered was you and Bucky. Given the circumstances, the ceremony had to be small. T’Challa officiated the wedding, making legal in every binding way. Shuri and Okoye were the witnesses. You had worn a small, simple Wakandan gown while Bucky wore a button up shirt and pants.

While you watched the boys disappear over the hills, Bucky snaked his arm around your waist and pressed his lips to your neck. You closed your eyes, “Steve called earlier,” you said cutting off whatever Bucky was doing.

“Really? Why so early?” He had the same tone of confusion and wonder you had. Bucky had always loved talking with his friend.

You turned in his arm and stared up at him. “He wants us to meet him in Berlin tomorrow evening. He says he may have found a way to clear everyone’s names.”

Bucky took a step back. You immediately knew where his thoughts were going. “He want’s to run it by all off us and we have to let him know in the morning.” You closed the space between the two of you. You reached up to grab the collar of his shirt, “I did tell him that we made Wakanda our home so if his plan works we will be still be living here.”

Bucky smiled. “Good,” he slowly started to back you into the wall. “We can call him tomorrow and tell him we’ll be there. How we skip right to dessert?” Bucky’s chest gently pinned you to the wall and he trailed a slow kiss from the base of your neck to your lips and down again. It sent a shiver down your spine.

“Do you want kids?” You blurted out.

Bucky pulled away, the lust disappearing from his eyes. “Yes, why? Are you…?”

You shook your head. “No. I just see how well you are with the kids that pass by through here. You’re so great with them and I just know that if we have a few of our own, you’ll make the perfect father.”

Bucky cupped your chin with his hand. “Are you wanting to try? Starting tonight?” There was small smile forming on his lips.

A smile plays on the corner of your lips as well.

Moments later, You laying on your back while Bucky hovers over you. You reach between your naked bodies and take hold of Bucky’s hardened cock. A small and almost silent moan slips from Bucky’s mouth. You give his cock two slow pumps before lining him up with your aching entrance.

Bucky slowly pushed into you, causing your eye to close and roll back. “Open those gorgeous eyes, Doll,” Bucky stated to thrust in and out of you at a decent pace. You opened your eyes and see Bucky staring down at you. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”

“You tell me everyday, love,” You lifted your hips up to meet Bucky half way. Each time the two of your met, a soft groan escaped your lips. “Do you know how lucky I am to have you?”

Bucky chuckled. “Only when we’re having sex.”

You playfully smack his chest. “I was being serious.”

“I know,” Bucky laughed and dipped down to press his lips to yours. While pushing himself further into you, causing you to moan into his mouth.

“You know what,” you pushed Bucky onto his back and straddled him. “Screw the slow and sensual crap. I’m going to make tonight feel like this is going to be the last time we ever do this.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened. “In that case, Doll, get on all fours.”

***

The next morning you and Bucky are doing some work, when Bucky purposefully bumped into you spilling some water from the bucket he was carrying. You turned to him to see him laughing as he continued to walk away. You shook your head as you thought up your move.

You walked over to where he stood next to the compost pile. As you walked by, you bumped his hips with yours, causing Bucky to lose his balance and fall into the compost. You covered your mouth to fight the laughter.

Bucky sat up in the pile and stared at you. You dropped your hand while the smile was still on your lips. “Next time you’ll think twice about splashing me with water.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Bucky lunged forward. You tried to move away but Bucky managed to his hand on you and pull you back into the compost with him. “Now, I think we’re even,” Bucky’s hand trailed down to your thigh and gave it a small, little squeeze.

“I love you,” you pressed your lips to his before standing up. “I have to go help Shuri and make that call to Steve.”

The moment you stood on your feet and turned around, you wished you hadn’t. There, entering the clearing and walking towards you and Bucky was T’Challa and some of his guards. It wasn’t the guards that followed the King of Wakanda that bothered you, it was the big, narrow case that accompanied them.

You knew that case all too well. If the case was being brought, you knew something was going to happen.

You looked back at your husband, all smiles and playful behavior no longer painted his face. The look of dread and sadness had taken it’s place. It was almost similar to the look he had before going back on ice. It ripped your heart out to see that look on his face.

“I’m sorry to break up such a fun moment,” T’Challa sounded like he was talking to someone of a higher power than him.

He gestured to the guards to bring the case up. You held your breath as they opened it. There sat the black and gold metal arm you helped Shuri design. You watched as Bucky slowly approached the case to get a better look at the arm. You could see that part of him is excited about the arm, for you had told him all about it and what it could do. The other part is that he knows that he will have to put it on. Both of you knew it.

Bucky Barnes may have been tired to fight, but he would fight to protect the world. And you, you were his entire world. The one thing keeping him going and not just flat out giving up. He would do just about anything, even if it meant dying, to make sure you lived to see another day.

“Where’s the fight?” he asked in a hollow voice.

T’Challa looked between the two of you. He hated this just as much as you did. “On it’s way.”

***

You stood looking through the window and watched as your husband got his arm on. It looked painful in your opinion, but Bucky’s face made no indication that it hurt him. He just stared at the ceiling until the procedure was finished.

There wasn’t much said about why you guys were needed. Just that Steve was on his way here and would fill you all in when he arrived. You knew it must have been urgent if Steve wouldn’t give the full story.

“Hey,” Bucky’s voice pulled your back from your thoughts. You turned around and immediately stared at the metal arm on your husband. Suddenly, you were having some very impure thoughts about it. Maybe you should have convinced Bucky to have the arm sooner. All you wanted was to feel those cool, metal fingers on your bare skin. Gripping every part of your body.

“Hi,” you breathed out. You had to shake your head to distract you from the dirty thoughts about that arm.

“How do I look?” Bucky held out both arms and did a small little spin.

You rose an eyebrow with a smile on your face, “Do you want the clean answer or dirty answer to that?” Bucky closed the space between the two of you. His metal hand gripped your hip and pulled your closer to him. He was on to your thoughts.

“That depends,” his voice was right against your ear. It sent instant shivers down your spine. Yep, he was one hundred on to you. “Do you want the clean answer or dirty answer to how you look? Cause this tight outfit you’re wearing is already doing something to me. Where has this been the whole time?” Bucky’s metal hand snaked to your ass and gave it a small squeeze before backing you to a wall.

“Packed away with that arm of yours,” You slowly wrap your arms around his waist.

Bucky nuzzled your neck, sending more shivers down your back. “How come? We could have had loads of fun with this.”

“The last time I wore this, I fell a good story out of a helicopter,” you answered.

Bucky pulled back and stared at you. “What?” his eyebrows furrowed. “How? What were you doing? How come I never heard about that?”

You dropped your arms, “Because it happened while you were still on ice and I was doing something on the side for T’Challa. Gathering information.”

“Were you hurt?”

You took a deep breath. “Yes and Shuri made some upgrades so if I were to fall a good distance, the suit would take most of the impact.” The look on your husbands face tugged at your heart. He looked hurt that he didn’t know about those few months where you went out and did small missions. “Look,” you took his face in your hands. “I wasn’t intentionally keeping it from you and I’m sorry I never said anything about it. Let’s talk more about this later.”

Bucky pushed your back against the wall. “Only if you wear this,” he said before pressing his lips firmly to yours. His tongue slipped passed your lips and explored your mouth.

“And only if you keep that arm for a while,” you smile against his lips.

The sound of an air craft was heard, making both you and Bucky pull apart and look out the window. A smile formed on your face when you recognized the air craft. Spinning on your heel you raced out to the front, with Bucky following after you.

You waited impatiently for the Quinjet to land. When the loading hatch opened you watched as not only Steve walk out, but more of your friends. They approached T’Challa and you saw only one of them bow. Idiot, you thought. Then you realized who that idiot was.

“Oh my god, Bruce!” You whispered. You hadn’t seen since Sokovia and a lot of your had long sense thought he had died.

Then you locked eyes with Steve. You and Bucky approached him and he gave the both of you the biggest hug ever. It was two years worth of hugs.

“How are you guys doing?” He asked as he pulled away from Bucky.

“We’re good,” Bucky looked at you and smiled.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

Steve looked around him and then placed his hands on his hips. “Bruce, wanna tell them?”

You looked at Bruce, who walked slowly towards you. There as look on his face that instantly made you worried for some reason. “Someone called Thanos, he’s after what’s called the Infinity Stones. Vision was almost killed for the Mind Stone. We’re seeing if it can be taken off and destroyed without killing him before Thanos get’s it.”

“What does he want with them?” Bucky asked.

“He wants to wipe out half of the worlds population,” Bruce looked towards Bucky. “Who are you?”

“Bucky,” Bucky answered. “Barnes. I’m also Y/Ns husband.”

Bruce looked back at you. “You got married? Does Tony know? Wait speaking of Tony.”

Your heart skipped a beat when Bruce said Tony’s name like it was some sort of taboo thing. Bucky noticed the change in your posture. He took a step towards you and placed his hand in yours. “What about Tony?” Your voice was hard.

***

You stood in the lab as you processed what was said about your brother. You didn’t want to believe it but then again it was Tony. He did just about anything. You were so lost in thought you didn’t know what was being said about Vision or the stone on his head. You walked to the window and looked out into the distance.

“You doing okay?” Natasha was standing beside you.

“As good as I can be,” You looked over to her. She had cute and died her hair blonde. You weren’t going to lie, you liked it a lot. “I just hope he’s okay.”

“We all do,” Natasha rubbed your arm. “Does Tony know you married the man that killed your father?” You shook your head. “You know he might not take it well, when or if he finds out.”

“Tony will just have to suck it up, Bucky’s fixed now and isn’t who he was when he worked with HYDRA.” You were aware of the ear piece in your ear linking you to the rest of the team. Bucky had one too. You knew he heard all that was said and you knew what was going on through his head.

Howard and Maria Stark were the biggest contribution to his nightmares.

“Hey guys,” Sam’s voice rang in your ears. “Um, somethings trying to get in.”

“They won’t be able to,” Okoye said.

“Are you sure about that?” You watch as something hit the barrier that surrounds Wakanda. Then another one and soon you’re able to see the barrier itself.

You turned to see everyone staring out the window. Poor Vision was laying on the table looking helpless. Wanda was hovering over him and staying close to him. You could read her body language well. Wanda loved him.

T’Challa and Steve exchanged a few words and it appeared they agreed on something. “How much time do you need, Shuri?”

“As much as you can give me,” Shuri didn’t looked up from her spot. She was too engrossed with what she saw.

“Y/N,’ Steve was approaching you. “It’s best if you stay up here and protect Vision with Wanda.”

“I agree, Doll,” Bucky’s voice was in your ear. “Whatever’s coming sounds nasty and I want you as far from it as possible.”

“And if the fight comes towards me?”

“Then kick their asses and show them some hell,” Natasha smiled.

***

Hell is what you gave when three creatures broke into the lab. You were quick on your feet but not too quick. One had thrown you off a landing right next to Vision. You got up and did the only thing you thought of.

“Get out of here Vision!” You helped Vision off the table until something crashed into the two of you sending the two of you through the window.

You slid the slanted roof trying to find something to grab onto. You called out for help only to not get a response back. The edge of the roof was quickly approaching and your hand missed the edge by centimeters. You were then falling three stories down to the ground. Even though your suit could take the impact, you weren’t so sure about your head. Then something grabbed you midair before setting your down. You looked up and saw Rhodey flying away back towards the fight. You made a mental note to try and thank him later.

“Guys, we got ourselves a Vision situation,” Sam said.

“Somebody get to Vision,” Steve yelled.

“Already on it,” You replied. You started to weave in and out of the threes looking for Vision. From a distance you heard a clap of thunder and soon saw a flash of lighting and you knew who just entered the fight.

Something crashed into you and sent you flying to a nearby three. Your head smacked against the trunk. You cried out and landed face first into the ground. Whatever threw you, picked you up by gripping a chunk of your hair. They were disgusting looking and part of you felt like that moment was it. You were a goner. Then they dropped you as they fell to their knees.

“You alright, Doll,” Bucky helped you up and looked you over.

“I think so,” you were breathing hard. “Not my finest hour.”

Suddenly there was gust of wind. Something was changing and it raised goosebumps on every part of your body. You looked around to see a cloud of blue burst and a purple looking thing walked out. One hand was covered in a gold glove with gems on it. Thanos, you thought.

“That’s him,” you heard Bruce say.

Then everyone was racing towards him. Anyone who got close to him was thrown back. Bruce was thrown into boulder. Natasha was pinned under earth that rose from the ground. Bucky was thrown into a three. You and Steve were the only ones who got close.

You slid in between Thanos’s legs and jumped onto his shoulders. You pulled the knife from your thigh holster. Before you could stab the knife into him, Thanos pulled on your leg and then gripped your neck with one of his giant hands. With each second it was tightening and you barely able to breath. You clawed at the giant hand but failed. The look on his face has a faint smile. He was taking pleasure in killing you.

“No!” Bucky’s voice was heard from someone.

The grip on your neck loosened some, giving you some breathing air. Thanos looked towards the sound and back at you. He looked you over and then flung you into a tree. You landed on the ground, the wind being knocked out of you.

You rolled over onto you knees to watch what happened next.

It all happened in slow motion. Wanda was holding off Thanos while destroying the stone on Visions head. You saw the heartbroken look on her face. She didn’t want to do it but she knew she needed to. Vision had closed his eyes and you knew that he made peace with what was happening.

Then Vision and the stone were gone.

But that isn’t what surprised you.

Thanos did something on that glove of his hand. All the while, he spoke quietly to Wanda. Green surrounded that area and suddenly, Vision was back. Wanda realized what was going to happen, so she jumped up and was thrown back by Thanos. Then Thanos had Vision by the neck and ripped the stone right off his head.

Vision was gone again.

Everything started to change when you saw and axe fly passed your head. Thor was then attacking Thanos and digging his axe deep into his opponents chest when Thor stopped. His head turned when he saw Thanos raise his hand up and snap the fingers that were in the gloved hand.

Everything, everywhere was silent and it sent chills down your spine. Something happened and you knew that something was bad and going to leave you heart broken.

“What did you do?” Thor yelled but Thanos disappeared leaving the group to stare at one of another.

You walked up to Steve who was a few feet from you and helped him up. He walked over to Wanda who was next to Visions body. The look on her face was pure brokenness.

Little did you know…

“Y/N? Steve?”

You turned and froze. Bucky had been making his way towards you when he started to turn to dust. You quickly ran over to him and right when you got within grabbing range he fell to the ground. Dust at your feet.

“No,” you whispered as your knees gave out beneath you. Your hand ran through what was left of your husband. You felt your entire world grow cold. You felt pressure on your chest as you covered your mouth to suppress the sob that took over your body. The of you were happy and talking about having kids and now, not even twenty four hours later, you were left alone looking at the literal ashes of your husband.

You let out a scream you didn’t know your body or vocal cords were capable of.

[disasterfandoms]

Going Through Hell Part 3 || A Sonny Quinn imagine

This is part three of an imagine series, This is part one, and this is part two.

A/N: Anon we’re finally done, can you believe it?! I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get all of these done, writer’s block is a bitch! Also I love the episode this gif is from, there’s some really good humor in it and it makes me happy to listen to Sonny bitch about his phobias. I tried to make this one longer, since I atrociously made the decision to cut part 2 off so abruptly. (also I put a tiny crossover in it)

TW: torture, hospitalization, aftermath of sexual assault (briefly mentioned), IVs, needles, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Taglist: @bravo-four-seal-team, @a-kate3

“Y/N’s been taken.”

Sonny’s knees almost instantly buckled and Eric rushed to help support his weight. He eased Sonny down onto a crate and motioned for Trent to come over and check Sonny out in case he actually passes out, Jason quickly comes as well.

“What’s going on?” Jason questioned while Trent kneeled in front of Sonny, checking his vitals. He instantly gets concerned when he sees Sonny with his head in his hands, with Sonny trying to slow his breathing.

“Y/N was abducted three days ago at the supermarket. Once local PD figured out their husband was Navy, NCIS was attached to the case. The Agent in Charge of the team taking the case called a half an hour ago to inform me of the situation.” Eric explained, his hands resting firmly on his hips. By now the rest of the team had gathered around, with Trent and Clay standing on either side with their hands on Sonny’s shoulders, attempting to give him some sort of comfort.

“The agent told me that they think they’ve found who has them and they’re  trying to locate where they’re being held. The team believe Y/N is alive but it’s hard to tell what state they’ll be in when the agents find them,” Blackburn states, hopefully easing the minds of the operators.

“They can’t die, Jase.” Sonny said, his voice quivering. His mind just keeps racing, thoughts flashing through his mind at the speed of light. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He always knew how worried you were when he was away, but he always thought you would have been safe at home. He almost laughed at how naive he was in that aspect, especially considering where you are now.

“I know, Sonny. I know,” Jason nodded, giving Sonny a pat on the back. 

 “They’re gonna be fine, brother. Y/n is a strong person, especially for putting up with you for as long as they have,” Ray tried to reassure him, and it worked a tiny bit, but the thought of you being hurt, or worse...

“Alright Sonny’s staying here, there’s no way I’m letting him in the field to put everyone else in danger because of this. Jason, are you guys able to handle this without Bravo 3?” Blackburn asked, but also making it clear his decision was final in this aspect.

“Yeah we’ll be fine, Blackburn. Take care of our boy,” Jason said, then ordered the rest of Bravo to suit up. The quicker they get the mission done, the quicker Sonny can get home to be with Y/N.

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

You regained consciousness, sore and finding it hard to breathe. You could tell at the very least you had broken ribs, if you had to guess your leg was broken by the burning sensation you could feel, but to be honest everything hurt.

You hear footsteps again, and tears spring to your eyes. You just want to be put out of your misery, not knowing that those footsteps are coming to rescue, rather than hurt you.

“Y/N, you’re gonna be okay, we’re here to help you,” you hear a gruff voice in your ear, and you immediately start crying, thanking them. They call a medic, and start to work on your restraints while one takes the hoodie off of your head.

Two of the agents tried to stand you up, but you quickly grew lightheaded, seeing stars until the whole world goes black again.

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

The mission had been a success, and the team was on their way home when Blackburn had received the call that you had been found, and you were on your way to the local hospital.

Sonny had raced over there, Trent and Clay in toll to keep him calm and explain what was happening to you when he had to sit in the waiting room. Eventually a surgeon came out and told him, “Y/N is going to be fine, but they sustained a lot of injuries. A grade three concussion, a broken nose, broken occipital bone, both collar bones and most of their ribs are broken, one of which punctured their lung. We had to take out their appendix, as it had ruptured during transport. Their left knee was dislocated, and sustained a tibia fracture in that leg as well. Y/N is out of the first surgery, but there’s a long road ahead. I can take you abck to see them, if you’d like,”

Sonny quickly agreed, and followed the doctor to you hospital room. You were asleep, but seeing your in your casts and you battered and bruised caused tears come to his eyes. He quickly sat down in the chair beside you, and held your hand.

He stayed in that position for a couple hours until you finally came to. You just gently squeezed his hand, ecstatic to see him here beside you. He looked just as happy to see you awake when he realized you has squeezed his hand.

“Hey babycakes,” he said quietly, not wanting to hurt your head, but god all he wanted to do is hold you and never let go.

“Hey yourself. Mission go okay?” you asked, knowing full well that’s not what he wanted to talk about. You didn’t know how to talk about what happened to you though, at least not yet. You felt tears rush to your eyes though, when you see the worried look on his face.

“Uh uh, we are definitely not talking about my work right now. We can’t just gloss over that you were kidnapped because of me, Y/n”

“To be fair, they didn't tell me it was because of you. They didn’t even talk, all they did was beat me up and...” You trailed off, squeezing your eyes shut as it hurt when a shiver went down your spine.

“Oh my god.” Was all Sonny said before he tightened his grip on your hand and reached up to give you a kiss on the forehead. You tried to reach your hand up and grab him to pull you closer to you, but the slings on your arms, which Trent explained to Sonny was to stabilize your collarbones, didn’t allow you to. He got the message though, and gently tried to hug you before sitting back down in his seat beside you.

“Do you want to talk about what happened yet, or would rather I distract you with food and tv until I can take you home in a couple days?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“The second option, please,” you requested, relieved you didn’t have to talk about it, not yet. 

“Well then, I’m gonna order food after making sure with your nurses you can have anything other than jello and chicken broth, and then we’ll find something on TV, okay?” He said, standing up to go to the nurses station.

“Hey sonny?” you asked, waiting until he turned around to acknowledge you.

“Yeah baby?” he responded, waiting to see if you’re requesting something else.

“I love you” you smiled and your heart fluttered as a smirk graced his lips.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

[quietepics]

                                      ♡ · 　INTRO.　 * .  IV / ?.

           oh lawd she comin.           hi gang !  i’d like to introduce my new kiddo ,  layla blanco .  she’s a granddaughter of tyche and eris ,  and she’s a bit chaotic but in a different way from theo .  i’d say her chaos is calculated heheh .  also this is a very quick and short intro but i just wanna get it out and done with bc im gonna be busy tomorrow rip anyway ,  hope you enjoy !

THE BASICS

name:  layla cornelia blanco nickname(s):  lay ,  lays .  somebody pls call her lucky charm she’ll be so annoyed . birthday:  april 13th, 1996 ethnicity:  white latina ( argentine - british ) birthplace:  california , usa gender identity:  cis female sexuality:  pansexual / panromantic powers:  disruption ( eris )  /  probability manipulation ( tyche ) mixtape:  she’s my colllar ( slowed ) / gorillaz ,  people i don’t like / upsahl ,  daisy / ashnikko ,  walk you home / sir chloe ,  talk show host / radiohead  character inspiration:  nanno ( girl from nowhere ) ,  beth harmon ( the queen’s gambit ) ,  layla by derek & the dominos ,  veronica sawyer ( heathers ) ,  yumeko jabami ( kakegurui )

THE MUSE

layla’s parents met in nemean lion years before her birth ;  a daughter of tyche and a son of eris ,  the two fell in love during their time at nl and though it’s been long since their last visit ,  the campus has been a second home to layla ever since she was little  ---  for safety reasons ,  of course .

from a very young age ,  layla knew that she was special .  her parents made a conscious effort to make sure the girl never lost sight of who she was and what she could do ,  and to always use her abilities for good .  her father was particularly cautious of that ,  seeing as his daughter had the same capabilities for discord as he did ,  and knowing how much trouble he caused during his first few years at nl .  because of that ,  layla has never felt out of control when it came to her abilities ;  in fact ,  it was quite the opposite .

while her father’s side of the family was a bit more troublesome ,  her mother’s side was incredibly fun !  ever since she was a child ,  layla found herself interested in everything that had to do with luck ,  probability and chance ,  which eventually led to her fascination with one subject in particular: gambling .

around the age of twelve ,  she began gambling around nl .  at first ,  the bets were little and simple:  a pack of gum ,  a snack from just dough it or a meal at jake’s diner ,  things of the sort .  at worst ,  she’d use her disruption power to make the loser unable to control their gifts for hours ,  which might have led to a little trouble a few times . however ,  as layla got older ,  the bets started becoming a little more extreme ,  often including large quantities of money .  naturally ,  people lost interest in the games ,  especially since they were going against a granddaughter of tyche ,  and layla decided it was time for a change  ---  so she left nl for a while .

during her time away from campus ,  layla made money .  a lot of money .  poker and any other form of gambling had quickly become her favorite pastime ,  mainly because of the thrill of betting and risking it all ,  except she never lost to anyone .  not because she used her powers to win ,  as the mere thought of rigging the games angered and disgusted her ,  but because it simply never happened .  it could be frustrating at times ,  especially after people in the business started digging up information of her .

years after making a name for herself in casinos around the world and in the public poker scene ,  people started learning more and more about layla ,  who’d kept her godly heritage a secret until now .  eventually ,  information leaked about the girl and on how one of her grandmothers was the goddess of fortune ,  which resulted in people calling layla a scammer ,  removing all sponsorships and opening multiple lawsuits against the girl ( which didn’t end up terribly for her ,  but that didn’t help fix her reputation either ) .  

half a year ago ,  after her little scandal and as means of keeping herself out of trouble ,  layla returned to nl for the first time in a long while .  she’s been keeping herself busy by working in the business department ,  striking big deals that bring in money and “playing” with the stock market .  she swears she’s never cheated or rigged any game in her life ,  but until someone or something is able to prove her innocence ,  you won’t be finding her gambling anytime soon  ---  at least not in the public eye .

MISC.

she is so ,  so smart .  above average IQ ,  definitely one of the best students in nl history besides the athena kids lmao .  oh ,  and she definitely loves to remind people of just how smart she is .  kind of a snob tbh .

knows a lot and has dirt on lots of people .  she’s literally one of those people who just ends up eavesdropping on accident and then laughs about it .

s t o n kS.

she can play any card game ,  and most classics like chess ,  checkers ,  even eastern ones like shogi or majong .  on the other hand ,  she hates most “modern games”,  except for monopoly and clue / cluedo.

she legit never rigged any of her games ,  not even when she was tired and bored from winning so much .  in fact ,  there was a time she purposefully indebted herself so that the games would become more exciting  ---  after all ,  she needed money .

kind of a hard person to befriend ?  she won’t approach you unless you’re doing something she judges weird or a waste of time ,  but she will engage into conversation if you seem “smart enough” .  again ,  she’s a bit of a snob .

kinda self destructive but shhh lets not go there just yet 

will prank people by messing with their powers without them knowing .  homegirl’s been bored okay this is how she keeps herself entertained besides stonks .

GIVE ME ALL THE PLOTS !  i’d like for her to have an actual friend who cares about her well being and wants her to get her shit together ( and she obvious cares about them in return ),  someone she simply Does Not Give a Fuff about and has no problem saying it, an ex lover / ex fling ( could be super interesting considering she was gone for a bit ig ) ,  some sort of frenemy ,  some “ healthy competition “  of sorts ,  anything and everything !

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Holding On for Dear Life

Genre: Fan Fiction (Vikings) Pairing: Hvitserk/OFC Warnings: Medical, Illness, Sexual Content Rating: M Length: Multi Chapter Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.  

A/N: Okay, this is something that I have been wanting to write for a long time, but never got to it. It’s not exactly polished a I would like right now, but wanted to posted the first part to see how it went over. Keep in mind, I am doing my best to go about Emmer and her illness as correct as possible, but a good portion of her is actually personal. I mean sure I can bog us all down with medical by the book, but personally I like my own life experience better. 

thank you @flowers-in-your-hayr for the header

Catch Up Here

Hospitals, yuck!

Hvitserk wasn't a fan, then again was anyone?

Ironic that they would be there on the anniversary of them meeting, in this very hospital. Waiting for his best friend – sometimes girlfriend, Hvitserk had sat quietly watching a news programme on mute with captions scrolling across the screen. After what felt like ages, Emmer emerged, slightly sore and exhausted asking Hvitserk if he could take her home.

Cozy in her apartment, Emmer yawned and insisted that Hvitserk was fine to leave her. She'd been through this before, it was nothing new. Bed rest, only fluids, and pain meds only when the label dictated. Although Hvitserk admired her trying to ship him off, he knew better. The last time he listened to Emmer, she had gone and ordered a large pizza and proceeded to eat half of it. Landing her back in the bathroom sicker than when she'd gone to the hospital.

This time, he refused to leave.

“Hvits, I'm fine.” Emmer rubbed her eyes, yawning from the cocktail of medications that she'd received at the hospital.

“Nope, you're not getting rid of me.” Hvitserk shook his head, fluffing the pillow on her couch. He had zero intentions of moving, besides he was too tired to drive again. It didn't matter that his apartment was only a block away.

Hands on her hips, head cocked, Emmer scowled. “I'm not Ivar.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Hvitserk smirked laying down on her couch and yawning.

His baby brother was a far worse patient than Emmer ever thought of being. Although their diseases were nothing alike, they'd both had their fair share of surgery and hospital visits. It was during one of Ivar's stay overs that Hvitserk had wandered the halls of the ward, bumping into the frail girl with the IV pole. Emmer had recovered, gained strength, and a Hvitserk all in a few short months.

“Hvits,” Emmer whined.

“Bed, Emmy. The doctor said you should be on bed rest until tomorrow. You know the drill. If you need me, I won't be far. But I need some sleep, first.” Closing his eyes, Hvitserk took a deep breath, snuggling into the blanket that he'd pulled down from the back of the couch.

Ignoring her would eventually work, growing bored of sitting in the kitchen alone, Emmer would go to bed. If this were under any other circumstance, Hvitserk would have gone to bed with her. Knowing that she'd been in so much pain a few short hours ago, he didn't want to crowd her. Giving her space to wrap her head around the night's events.

Emmer was unfazed and not at all bothered by what had happened, but spending hours in the ER with a blocked stoma took a lot out of a person. Ulcerative Colitis was a cruel mistress, not only causing severe abdominal pains and cramping, but leaving one swollen joints, ulcers in various places, and fatigue. One time Emmer had told Hvitserk on top of that, it was literally the shittiest disease ever. Pun and no pun intended. Tonight's trip had been courtesy of something causing a block in Emmer's small intestine. Unable to pass, sending blinding pain shooting through her abdomen.

She'd called Hvitserk around the third hour of vomiting, asking for him to come over and keep her company. Arriving to find Emmer in the bathroom on the floor soaked in sweat, complaining that she was dizzy Hvitserk grabbed her emergency bag and escorted her to the car.

“Damn peas,” Emmer mumbled leaning against Hvitserk on the way to the car. She'd known better than to eat them, but she couldn't resist. They were there in all their green glory taunting her.  

Home and somewhat comfortable in her bed, Emmer laid looking through her phone. Hvitserk on the other side of the door, stretched out and sleeping on the couch. Outside in the morning sun, the birds sang and the city slowly came to life. Oblivious to what some people were going through.

Each person lived their own life on their own path. Emmer had always believed that, even more so now. Her path had taken a turn, sick for months on end without reason or cause. Doctor's office after Doctor's office. Specialist after Specialist. Disease had nearly ruined her life. Easily, she could have allowed it, but why?

So she'd had some surgeries, a ruptured bowel, no large intestine, and had a bag on her side which was now her new bowel. It wasn't the end of the world and certainly wasn't the end of her life. Emmer enjoyed the freedom it had given her, now she was able to go places and not worry about whether or not she would be left in tears, over not being able to find a public restroom.

Meeting Hvitserk days after her first surgery had been another weird little blessing. He was quirky, sweet, and his own kind of funny. Not to mention he was a pretty good boyfriend. He was patient and gentle, even sticking around to be the supportive best friend when they weren't dating.

Rolling on her right side with a slight wince, Emmer rubbed her tummy above the spot where her bag resided.

“Really Eir?” She rolled her eyes at the grumbling stoma. “Now you're talking?”

Whatever. She shook her head, closing her eyes. Hvitserk would be in shortly, she was sure of it. His love for her plush bed would eventually take over, once he realized the couch was a tad to short.

Stretched out on the couch, his feet resting on the arm rest at the end, Hvitserk was surprisingly comfortable. Although he wished Emmer's couch was about seven inches longer. It was plush, comfortable, and like a cloud, until his ankles began to go numb. Curling his legs up, Hvitserk shifted over onto his side trying to stop his feet from tingling.  Picking his head up, when he heard the bedroom door open.

No matter how hard she tried, Emmer wasn't exactly stealthy. The bottom door hinge and the floor board right outside of her door gave her away. Hvitserk pushing himself to sit up, scratching the back of his head, he looked like he'd been the one in the ER all night, in pain.

“Hey Hvits,” Emmer raised her hands over her head, stretching her shoulders, then dropping them. “What's for breakfast?”

“Why are you out of bed?” Hvitserk scowled with concern.

“Because I'm not tired? The day awaits us, Hvits.”  She'd slept for three hours, it was almost 10AM. Time to be awake and out doing something.

“Your day is going to be spent in bed, binge watching cheesy sitcoms, while drinking tea, and eating broth.” Hvitserk smiled wide at her. “I'll even join you, once I clean up a bit.”

“You don't have to clean my apartment.” Emmer rolled her eyes at him. “I can do it.”

“I know, but I want to help. Besides, if I stay here it's an excuse not to go home. Ubbe had a new lady friend over, I should at least give her time to get out.” He shrugged. His older brother really needed to pick one of his rotating women and settle.

“He still on the rebound?” Emmer dropped onto the couch beside Hvitserk. Leaning over onto his shoulder, glancing up at him.

“Yep,” Hvitserk nodded. “Margrethe really fucked with his head. We have a talent for picking bat shit crazy women, you know. I think it's genetic or some shit.”

“Your mom isn't bat shit crazy.” Emmer countered. “She's just angry that your dad kept fucking around on her.”

“Understandable, although what did she expect? He did meet her, while he was married.” Rubbing his face, Hvitserk sighed. His family would never be up for any sort of Family of the Year awards.

“Your dad still seeing Yidu?”

“Nope, she grew some common sense and left.” Rolling his eyes, Hvitserk scoffed. “Did you know she's the same age as Bjorn?”

“I had a feeling she wasn't your dad's age.” Emmer shrugged. “Every family has their bullshit, what can I say?”

“There is family drama and then there is the Lothbroks. But, enough about my parents. How do you feel, now?” Leaning his head on top of Emmer's; Hvitserk nuzzled his nose into her hair. “And for the record, you're not bat shit crazy.”

“Thank you, I think.” Emmer laughed. “And I'm still a little sore, but feeling better. Really, I'm hungry. Can we eat?”

“Sure, but you're not getting anything solid.”

“Well, ice cream isn't solid. Oh! Let's go get ice cream.”

“Or, you can stay here, in bed while I go get some ice cream and bring it back. What kind do you want? Chocolate?” Hvitserk slowly lifted his head from Emmer's. “I can also bring back some coffee. Iced latte with almond milk and one shot of caramel syrup?”

“Yes! Yes that sounds amazing!”

“Alright, I will go get previsions. You stay in bed and rest. I shouldn't be long. Promise me, you won't try to do anything until I am back?”

“Well, I may shower.” Emmer shrugged, pretending to smell herself. “I stink like hospital, you know how much I hate that.”

“Fair enough, but nothing else. I will do the housework, when I get back. Okay, Em? I don't want you to get hurt or over strain yourself.”

Rolling her eyes, Emmer nodded. “Okay, fine, I will behave. Now go, I want my latte and ice cream.”

“Bossy Britches,” Hvitserk mumbled, grabbing his phone, keys, and wallet.

“Damn right I am!” Emmer called after him, gently tossing a pillow from the couch at his back.

Turning to blow her a kiss, Hvitserk laughed, closing the door behind him. A click indicated that he'd used his key to lock the door, saving Emmer from having to get up and walk twenty feet to the door. Hvitserk was always that way, making sure she was taken care of and he did anything to make her life easier.

Sometimes, it was annoying. Others, it was welcomed. Especially on days when Emmer had no energy. Some days she could barely make it out of bed, those were the days when Hvitserk's overbearing need to cater to her were welcomed the most. He was good at knowing when she needed him to take over, but not so good when knowing he had to back off.

Emmer adored him, but had no problems telling him when to lay off or go away.

In a family of six children, Hvitserk was number 4.

Since an early age, he had been the caretaker. Right after his older, half, sister Gyda. He was constantly taking care of his younger brother Sigurd while his mother focused on his baby brother, Ivar. Gyda kept her brothers from killing one another, while Hvitserk kept Sigurd from somehow killing himself. A task and a half to take on as a five year old. If they wanted Ivar to see his 10th birthday, it was a small price. Twenty years later...

Hvitserk had the ice cream in the car, thankful that the coffee shop wasn't overly busy. Along with their drinks he had gone ahead and ordered brown sugar oatmeal for Emmer and a bacon sandwich for himself. Food in hand, he tapped his foot lightly to the music that softly played through the shop. Lost in his thoughts and tiredness, he jumped when his phone rang.

“Hel-”

“Where are you?” Ivar huffed over the phone.

“I'm getting breakfast and heading back to Emmer's.” Hvitserk smiled his apology to the barista as he accepted the iced latte and the flat white. “Why?”

“You were supposed to drive me to that appointment, this morning. I tried calling you.” Ivar grumbled. Hvitserk didn't have to see Ivar's face to know it was twisted in a scowl. “I had to get an uber.”

“Sorry, fuck. Shit.” He hissed. “Ivar, look I'm sorry. Em had to go to the emergency room. She wasn't well and I had to stay with her.”

“So getting laid, because you played the hero, is more important than family?”

“No, Emmer had an emergency. Listen, I'm sorry. I am. Where are you now? I can come get you, before I go back to Em's.”

“Gyda came to get me. Unlike some people, she cares.”

“I care, Ivar.” Hvitserk defended himself. His younger brother was so dramatic. It came with being the baby. “Tell her I said hi.”

“Fuck you.”

Hvitserk sighed, the line went dead with a beep. Whatever. Ivar would get over it. Eventually.

It wasn't like Hvitserk intentionally forgot about his brother. Had Emmer not needed him, he would have drove Ivar as promised. Ivar was more than capable of getting places on his own, he simply refused.  Unlocking the car, Hvitserk groaned and shook his head. Ivar was petulant, but still his brother.

Whatever, he could worry about that later. Right now, Hvitserk had to deliver ice cream and an iced latte, before Emmer sent out a search party or put a bounty on his head.

@danceyreagan @gearhead66 @supernaturalvikingwhore  @funmadnessandbadassvikings ,  @smutgoblin , @nickysurfer28 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @lif3snotouttogetyou, @akamaiden, @laketaj24​ @neeadinghugs, @thoughtsmeander2tumblingblindly, @ilvebeenabad , @naaladareia, @tephi101 , @sdcyumyum  , @imgoldielikehawn , @sparklemichele , @titty-teetee  , @smolasianwinterbean  , @sweetvengeancee , @capitanostella , @ateliefloresdaprimavera , @branflakes82 , @lordavanti , @vvigilantes  , @angelswannawearmyredshooz​ , @kawennote09​ , @bluearchersstuff​ , @lisinfleur​ , @fumblingthroughchaos​ @pebblesz892​ , @angelaiswriting​ , @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995​, @unacceptabletatertots​ @itsspecial-itsnotforeveryone​, @captstefanbrandt​, @writingfromasgard​, @happydaysandersen​, @letowolfie​, @alicedopey​, @beautifulramblingbrains​, @equalstrashflavoredtrash​, @rosepetals-flyingbirds​ , @ivarswickedqueen​, @oqueequesentes-borboletas​, @sodanova​, @groovyzombiellama​, @therealcalicali​, @rekdreams-fandom​ @grungyblonde​, @nevlahhh​ , @natalie-reader​, @ivarlothbroks​, @lol-haha-joke​ , @medievalfangirl​ @fictionbanshee​ @thisisabigmaze​  @ethereallysimple​ @emilie1993​  @mariaenchanted​ 

*I am operating on an old tag list, if you wish to be added/removed, please let me know*

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt 144

144

Curled around him, Lance basked in Keith’s warmth. His boyfriend his protector against their friends. Pidge, Hunk, Shiro and Curtis all waiting at VOLTRON for their return. There were lots of hugs, lots of apologising on his behalf. A lot of anxiety over Kosmo jumping up at his belly, his fun son had grown more than Lance realised. From a tiny pup awkward pup, he now stood just below hip height, but was still his precious baby. Keith a little too firm as Kosmo tried to stand up, paws on Lance’s belly, nearly making Lance vomiting, as he had done for the last half hour of the flight.

Then came the trek to the medical wing, too many people wanting to know if he was okay and if the twins were, and Pidge couldn’t stop staring at his belly, making him super uncomfortable. Coran had shooed them off, Lance suspecting he just wanted to have the first look at the ultrasound ahead of the others. Lance so not in the mood for it, making Coran agree to wait until the following day. He was still poked and prodded. Set up with two IV lines that he felt he didn’t need. Temperature and heart-rate taken. Forced into a clean set of clothes so he’d be “more comfortable”. He’d had a panic attack when they landed. He couldn’t find his mami’s bag, Rieva had already taken it down out of the luggage department.

He was wiped out, but then the others came back in. Pidge and Hunk tried to squeeze onto the bed, barely built for one, let alone four adults, and Kosmo who’d taken up prime position on his legs. Shiro and Curtis had come back thanks to the news of his Mami passing. Their condolences hurt to hear, on top of Pidge and Hunk both offering theirs again. Battling anxiety, Lance mostly let the others talk around him. A few times he’d nearly snapped when Pidge got too loud and Hunk cuddled just that fraction too close to Keith. His ego was being a dick, Lance no longer sure if his ego was making him worse, or him being worse was making his ego be a dick.

Things were much easier when the focus was shifted from him to Curtis’s horns. They were cute. Not great big monstrous things like a ram, but two black little nubs that went well with the black ring around his irises. Admittedly, Lance was expecting horns big enough for Shiro to hold onto them, and while he could, it’d barely be a palm full... Not that he wanted to think about Shiro riding Curtis, Pidge put the idea in his head and Lance was left to deal with it. He was happy about Curtis being safe and back, but his ego wasn’t thrilled. It very much felt slapped in the face, wanting to yell at them all to pay attention to Lance’s belly because twins were way cooler than horns.

Filling Lance in, he hadn’t seemed to miss much. They’d had lunch at Pidge’s parents, then dinner at Hunk’s house. Shay had come to dinner, and they’d done Christmas without him. Pidge excited at the prospect of a second Christmas when Keith “suggested” it. Hunk making huge plans to make it a “Welcome Home Party”. Lance using his current stay to plead out they wait until weekend, which would give him the Thursday and Friday to mentally prepare for peopling again, then using his fatigue to politely evict their friends group. Trying to evict Keith to go talk to his brother was like trying to pull two sheets of wet glass apart. It wasn’t happening. The vampire could smell Krolia on them, suspecting she was back, and waiting until they group thinned before coming to offer her condolences. Lance had enough of condolences. Enough of the heartfelt words. Each time he was sent back to Mami not waking. To trying to call Keith only to break his phone, and the pain of losing the one person who’d protected him for so long. It was easier with a heartfelt hug and and a mutual understanding it was hard.

Keith was asleep. He’d fallen asleep while Lance was left unable to shut his mind off. Nausea, coupled with stress and a throbbing headache left Lance awake more than his circling thoughts. Flying didn’t agree with him, even with his shoes sprinkled inside with his death soil. It helped abate the symptoms from flying, it just didn’t help when it came to an overactive mind and being squished by Keith who had his hand pressing against Lance’s belly, as if trying to protect him as he slept. Keith was too cute, and obviously relieved to see Shiro and Curtis had made it home safely.

Putting up with being squished as long as he could, Lance carefully set Keith’s hand on his hip, so he could slip free. Coran would no doubt be around shortly to check on him. He missed the way they used to be so close. Now it felt like Coran cared more for the twins than for him. If Coran had cared he’d have let them go back to Keith’s apartment, and cancelled the surprise of their friends waiting for them. He knew it was because Coran cared and worried for him that he hadn’t. Hugging Pidge, she seemed smaller than ever. Hunk just as solid and warm as a he remembered. He loved them too much. The loss of Mami driving home again how short and fragile human lives where when compared to his. Lance had made up his mind. He’d live as long Keith lived. A full life with his boyfriend and their children, until it was time for Keith to pass and they’d pass together. Never feeling the loss of that half of their souls. It was funny how he’d mocked the idea of soulmates mentally, and now it seemed the only term close to describing the degree of love he felt for Keith. He wanted to spend every day of their lives together, making new and happy memories, in a household filled with love.

*

Feeling the space beside him empty, Keith shot awake in panic. He’d been wiped out from the visit of their friends. They were so damn loud. Not that he wasn’t happy they’d been there to rip the anxiety bandage off Lance’s wounds, he simply wished they’d been there and quieter about it

“Babe?”

With the light on in the bathroom, and Kosmo also missing, Keith was drawn to it like a moth. Pushing the door open with his foot, Lance was sitting on toilet with his face in his hands. Kosmo laying near his feet. Keith had noticed each time Mami was mentioned that Lance would shy away. That wound too deep for a reunion to be a magic fix it all

“Babe?”

Looking up at him, Lance wiped his eyes

“Sorry. I couldn’t sleep”

The idiot had been crying alone...

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Headache and I feel sick...”

Walking over to his boyfriend, Keith felt for a fever as Lance bunted into the touch

“You feel warmerish... and I can smell you”

Lance blushed, hands going to cover his lap...

“Babe?”

“Don’t judge me”

Keith didn’t know what he was supposed to not be judging Lance over seeing he wasn’t judging him in the first place

“I’m not. I got a bit worried when you didn’t come back to bed”

“You were squashing the pee out of me... and then I just... felt so blah that I thought if I could... you know... I might be able to calm down... but I couldn’t...”

Oh. Lance was looking for a little stress relief after their long arse day

“You could have woken me up”

“And what would I have said? I can’t sleep, so suck me off?”

“Pretty much”

Keith’s knees cracked as squatted down, Lance blushing softly as he wouldn’t meet his eyes

“I’m not mad, and I’m not judging you”

“I feel stupid... I’m horny as hell and I shouldn’t be, but I don’t know... it just happens. I’m so fucking tired...”

He looked it too. And was tired enough to be honest that he wasn’t feeling that great

“Do you want me to get you off?”

Lance sighed deeply, angry as replied

“There’s no point... I tried but... I feel too sick... and I’m so frustrated...”

“Let me help”

“I told you...”

Lance needed release, his scent was begging Keith to touch him

“Not to brag about my sexual prowess, but I’m pretty sure I can give you exactly what you need”

“But what about you?”

“Babe, if you haven’t noticed, I love you. I love touching you. Just let me take care of things”

Lance nodded, moving his hands away to expose the damp spot on his sweats. Rather than wolfing down the meal, Keith wanted Lance to feel comfortable first. Kissing his boyfriend, Lance hesitated, slowly letting Keith take the lead. That he was kissing him back made Keith’s heart flip. Whining at him, Kosmo protested what his father’s were about to do, leading him to an overdue eviction.

Soaking wet, Lance’s wetness dribbled down his thighs, Keith lapping between Lance’s legs moaning at the taste of his lover. Bent over the bathroom sink, Lance’s legs were already shaking, arse jiggling as he rocked against Keith’s tongue. His boyfriend definitely pent, and already stretched so perfectly that Keith could have slipped right in. Wanting Lance to enjoy this, he also was aware that Lance was on edge. That he was exhausted and needed sleep, cutting Keith’s fun short as he rose to his feet, meeting eyes with Lance in the bathroom mirror

“You ready?”

“Mhmm... I tried... but... my fingers couldn’t reach...”

Shit. He’d have liked to see that. He loved watching Lance prep himself almost as much as he loved prepping him. Dizzy on Lance’s scent, his boyfriend smelt as if he was in heat, which shouldn’t be possible with Lance already being pregnant.

Sliding his hands up Lance’s sides, his boyfriend shuddered, wetness dribbling down Keith’s erection as he rutted up against him, missing pushing in on his first try

“You’re so fucking wet...”

Lance blushed

“Shut up”

“I didn’t say it’s a bad thing. Stick your arse back for me”

Spreading his legs, Lance stuck his ease back, Keith letting go of his side to guide himself into Lance’s heat, both men groaning in unison, as Keith slowly sank balls deep. Bring up his hand, he gripped Lance by the hip with his left hand, right hand moving to grope the vampire’s small left breast. Whimpering his name, it sounded pornographic

“Keith...”

“It’s okay, babe... let it out”

Rolling his hips, wetness smeared across Keith’s crotch. Drawing back then thrusting in caused a wet slapping of skin

“Keith... just... fuck... me properly”

Hard and fast, he could do that. Wrapping himself around his boyfriend, Keith fucked Lance as hard as he wanted. His boyfriend panting and they’d barely started. Not quite getting as deep as he wanted, Keith lifted Lance’s right leg, Lance incoherent, as their bodies rocked. God knew how good Lance felt around him. The way he tightened at having his leg lifted made it hard to move, as if his boyfriend was trying to squeeze his orgasm out of him as he drew him deeper

“I’m... Keith... don’t stop... I’m going to come...”

The slapping grew louder, Keith barely coherent. High as hell on Lance’s pheromones

“Shit, babe... come for me... you feel so fucking good... shit... shit... fuck, babe...”

“Mmm... Keith... Keith... nggm... ah... ahh...”

Lance tensed as he came, clamping hard around Keith, Keith coming just as hard inside his boyfriend, buried to the hilt and panting like he’d run a marathon. Shit... he hadn’t lasted long... Lance still smelt so damn good. Nosing at the crease between his boyfriend’s shoulder blades, Keith rode out his orgasm, hips stuttering yet still moving, caught up in Lance’s scent

“Fuck...”

He wanted more. So much more. He’d been pent up as he’d watched Lance from the swimming pool. All the little expressions Lance made while watching him. The way he’d duck his head or look away. He didn’t want his boyfriend looking at anyone other than him

“Keith?”

Sliding free, cum and wet dripped onto the floor, Keith rutting between his legs, causing his pregnant boyfriend to whine at him

“I’m sorry... you smell so good...”

“I wanna... kiss... I feel so... hot...”

So Lance was feeling this too? He wasn’t imagining it? The logical thing would to be ask Coran why Lance seemed in heat, but his head brain was on vacation leaving all the flowing blood to his dick

“Let’s go to bed... I want to do you again...”

Lance slowly nodded, Keith liked to think his was a smooth as boyfriend as he lowered his leg then swept him off his feet.

Laying Lance down on the hospital bed, Keith climbed up to cage him. His boyfriend wrapping his arm around him, as he claimed his mouth. Sinking his fangs lightly into Keith’s lip, Keith hissed, his lips had gotten used to not being bitten and he was reminded of how long it’d really taken to gotten used to Lance’s fangs. Not that he told his lover. He didn’t want him being sorry when he should be feeling good. Breaking the kiss, Lance licked the blood from his lips

“I feel... so hot...”

“You feel like you’re in heat”

“I can’t be... I’m having your babies...”

Shimmying back and down, Keith went for Lance’s chest. Tonguing at the small bud of Lance’s right nipple, Lance’s hands held his head to his chest, fingers threaded through Keith’s hair, hips rolling as Keith mouthed at the small mound

“Ahhh... careful... still... sensitive”

“I know...”

Lance seemed sensitive enough to come from having his nipples stimulated alone. Keith moving to mouth at his left nipple, Lance’s legs tightening as he knees pressed into his side’s

“Keith... Keith... don’t... not like... that...”

Nipping on Lance’s nipple, Lance whined, pulling his hair to pull him off

“Not there... it’s too much...”

“Mmm... but they’re cute”

Lance’s nipples seemed bigger, the colour had darkened, the bud feeling bigger between his teeth than they’d had before. Not pulled away far enough, he swiped his tongue up, Lance groaning loudly

“Keeeeeith... stop teasing, I don’t have the patience”

“You don’t have the patience to let me love your body”

“Fuck loving my body... I need you in me... feels empty... aren’t... I... good enough”

Keith rose back up, words falling between the kisses he pressed to Lance’s lips

“You are more than good enough...”

“Then... just... I want to...”

“I know, baby. I know... you’re body is so amazing... so open for me... think you can take me again”

Lance sat up as he wrapped his arms around Keith’s neck, nodding as he did, Keith moving his hands down to take Lance by the hips

“I want it...”

Nosing at Lance’s nose, Keith’s hands slid to try lift Lance by the arse

“Wrap your legs around me, babe. I’ve got you... gonna fuck you on my dick, just how you like...”

Lance was too cute. Riding his dick, Lance panted, legs spread and tummy on display. Tiny titties red from all the attention lavished on budding breasts. Sucking on his lover’s left breast, Lance stopped making sense somewhere around the time he nipped at his nipple. When his boyfriend finally grew tired from riding him, Keith laid him back down, spreading his legs wide, so he supported Lance by his calves and riding him hard. Lance’s pheromones increased his stamina, he already knew that from barely being able to keep up with Lance’s heat. Over and over again he drove into his boyfriend, Lance coming across his bouncing belly as Keith kept thrusting, wetness now soaked enough into the bedding his knees were damp. Coming for the second time, Keith finally felt a little calmer. Calm enough to pull out and slump across Lance, mindful of his lover’s precious belly, as he caught his breath. Lance bringing a hand up to rest on his head, long caramel legs wrapped loosely around him. Kissing Lance’s cooling skin, his boyfriend still smelt sweet.

“Babe?”

“Mmm...”

“You okay?”

“Mhmm...”

“Okay”

That was good. Good that Lance was okay. The room smelt of them and their sex, Keith quietly content for now... or at least the next five minutes.

[stevie-marlowe]

STEVIE MARLOWE is a TWENTY-TWO year old GAY AGENDER, TEY/TEM, here in Firebrand City. People say tey looks a lot like KIERSEY CLEMONS. Tey are INQUISITIVE but can be STUBBORN. Tey is a HALF-MERMAID TRAITOR in Firebrand and tey works as a COURIER AT SWEET DREAMS.

content warning: rape

I: The Love Story

The mermaid had seen him before, kayaking through the mangrove swamps or on the shore with other humans, speaking gently but enthusiastically. She listened on occasion—he spoke of habitat encroachment and pollution and how nature was not a toy. Once she watched him administer medical care to a manatee that had been struck by a boat propeller. The creature still perished, but he tried so hard and wept over the creature’s body when it was done. He was as good as a human could be, which was more good than her tribe would give them credit for.

Her tribe was one of the last holdouts—sticking to the safety and hiddenness of the wilderness rather than risking the novelty of the surface world. Humans were danger, more so than any barracuda or hurricane they might face on their own. But still, she slowly fell in love, watching him from afar. Later she would realize she too felt the call of the surface world and had centered all her desires in one man to make it seem reasonable, or at least containable. But, back then, the only word she knew for the feeling was love.

One night, she lay with him and to her surprise, found herself with child, despite considering herself too old for such a thing. This was horrifying, at first—the shame that would come to her for bearing an abomination—but then she thought of her lover and how happy he’d be at such news. Besides, she belonged to an extremely isolated tribe, one that shunned undersea society just as much as they themselves were shunned.

She’d loved all of her children so far and this one, a freak though it was, would be no different. The mermaid desperately tried to return to him, but he fled at the sight of her, at least until she showed him the child they had made—a perfect, unholy mix of water and land.

II: The Discovery

Growing up, Stevie’s father was overprotective of tem, never letting tem swim in the ocean, despite the fact that it was the only thing tey wanted to do. The waves called to tem and the water seemed like home. He quit his job as a park ranger, and they moved to Miami where he became an aquarist. He said it was because there were better schools in the city but every once in a while, late at night, when he had had too much to drink, he cried about how much he feared losing tem and Stevie knew it was about the sea.

As a teenager, tey was constantly sneaking out and getting into trouble. Tir father supported tem most of the time as tir grades were good and tey was a star on the school’s track team (he had said no when tey had asked to be a swimmer). Despite being popular, Stevie felt never felt quite like tey belonged. During the waking hours, tey assumed it was just part of being closeted about tir sexuality, but when the sky was dark and the moon was full tey knew it was because tey belonged in the sea.

When tey helped tir school win the state track championship the team celebrated with a bonfire party on the beach. Tey brought two cases of beer and, soon enough, most of the party-goers were drunk and tey could finally—finally!—slip away. Tey waded out into the ocean and it felt right. A massive wave pushed tem underwater and, though tey struggled to hold tir breath, tey found tey somehow didn’t have to.

More miraculously, tey wasn’t alone. A school of beautiful women wish fish tails surrounded tem, offering tem friendship and, best of all, understanding. Stevie took their hands and was led off into an underwater paradise where tey learned about who tey was and how dearly tir other family had missed tem. It didn’t matter that tey was a freak—and now tey knew what kind of a freak tey was—so long as tey had the chance to explore. Tey didn’t surface for two months.

III: The Truth

When tey returned to the surface tey found that the war had come to Florida and any hope tey had of a normal life was crushed. Tir father was relieved and delighted to see tem, so much so that he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at tir disappearance. Instead he begged tem to run away a second time, to go deep into the interior, be it the forest, the desert, or the mountains. Anywhere away from here; tey could pass as a human so long as they stayed away from the sea. Stevie argued that he should come to the ocean, that there were beautiful limestone caves with air pockets large enough to live in, that tir mother still loved him. At that last declaration, he broke.

The pain and fear he had so diligently hidden from his child rushed out of him and he told Stevie that whatever story tir mother had told tem wasn’t true, that she had attacked him and while Stevie was the best thing in his life, that night was the worst. How angry he was that one night had taken the everglades, his favorite place in the world, and turned it into the stuff of nightmares. That he never dated women anymore because he could still see piece of tir mother—his attacker—in everything they did. That, while humanity had done more than its fair share of damage to the world and that he wished for a peaceful coexistence, he still felt a sharp crack of joy every time he saw a dead finfolk on TV.

Stevie held tir father than night, being his little girl one last time. As much as tey loved him, tey couldn’t deny what tey was, but tey didn’t tell him that. Best to have one last night before he went to Arizona and tey returned to the sea.

IV: The Tragedy

When tey returned to tir ocean family, tey found that most of tir tribe had scattered and tir mother was dead. A shiver of sirens had attacked them, resenting their pacifistic nature, their neutrality in the war for control. and, worst of all, the harboring of a hybrid. Tir mother stood strong, singing praises of tir father and that they should give humanity the care and love he had shown the natural world. She was killed for that, as was most of their tribe. Stevie mourned tir new friends but, after hearing the story of tir birth, couldn’t bring temself to grieve for tir mother.

Only one of tir family tribe was still there, tir youngest sister, the weakest one, the one tey had grown closest to. She had hidden when the sirens came, and has waited—not for Stevie in particular, but for something. Tey had the solution—tey and tir sister would move into tir father’s apartment and be human or mermaids, depending on who was in power. Tey had gone fifteen years believing tey was human, certainly tir sister could manage it just for a little while. Aside, tir father’s apartment had enough nooks and crannies for them to hide in if someone came a-knocking.

They lived like the teenagers they were, messy and indulgent despite the war. The two were happy, despite their grief, and Stevie was delighted to show tir sister the wonders of city life just as she had shown tem the majesty of the ocean. The good times didn’t last, however, and when a gang of drunk humans broke in an ransacked their apartment for the second time, they fled to the ocean—they might not be so lucky the next time and tensions were rising. 

V: The Wandering

Life in the sea without a tribe or family to rely on was difficult. They kept to the shallows, hiding away from known mermaid hunting grounds and close enough to the shore that Stevie could run aground and pick up supplies when things got desperate. Tey saw how badly tir sister was doing, but tey could never manage to persuade tem to either pick out a new life on shore or to travel deeper, where the best food was. The first refusal is because she feared for her life. The second was because she was ashamed of Stevie.

Tir sister begged to go to Firebrand. She said it would be safe and that even slavery would be more comfortable than the life they were living. Stevie doubted that, but tir sister was the only family tey had left. The only person tey had left. Eventually, inevitably, Stevie gave in. Tir plan was for tem to pose as tir sister’s human friend. After all, tey was good at passing. Tey’d done it for years and, as long as tey stayed dry, tey didn’t think tey’d be discovered. It was a foolish hope, but one tir sister unscrupulously encouraged.

When they reached the gates, Stevie appreciated how brave her sister had been, coming to Miami with tem after the deaths of almost everyone she knew. Tey’d never love her more than in that moment… especially as, immediately after they arrived, tir sister abandoned tem. Tey said tey understood and some days tey really did. Stevie’s hybrid status was found out immediately and, even with the collar on, people could tell.

Still, tir sister was right—slavery was better that slowly starving to death. Tey was kept comfortable as injured or hungry workers weren’t nearly as effective. Still, it was a lonely existence. Other slaves had to hope of a kind Superior taking them in, but no one would want an abomination like Stevie. Still, tey holds onto the tenuous dream that someone—most often tir sister—would swoop in and save tem.

[pancakebutton]

Teacher X Reader Part IV

Summary: Miss Crossland (obviously) doesn’t get off easy after being caught hitting you and you’re comforted by the one and only. Who is this mysterious man who also asks you on a date? Will you comply?

Warnings: *Slightly Abusive* language in the beginning warning, Foul Language, Sexual Content

Word Count: 2,698

Genre: Romance, Slice of Life, Sexual, Series.

Pairing: Insert Teacher X Reader

A/N: (F/H/P) is favorite hockey player (if you have one if not just replace it with your last name). And (T/NN) means teacher’s nickname.

Masterlist

.

She slapped me.

My eyes went wide as tears finally began to pool. I was now sitting on the floor, looking up at Miss Crossland who was hovering above me with that same damn smirk on her face. I cover my head with my arms as a shield and cry, “please don’t hurt me.” But I knew no one could hear me as everyone had gone home since it was the end of the day.

“That’s what you get you ungrateful bitch!”

She lurched forward and grabbed a fistful of my hair, I waited for another hit...but it never came.

I open my eyes and see my hero. Matt. He yanked Miss Crossland by the arm away from me and held her as she struggled. I scramble backwards in an attempt to get further away from her, only to bump into something. I look up and suddenly I’m embraced. I didn’t know what was happening behind me since I was too busy crying into the chest of this stranger, but I noticed the room was quiet and we were alone.

Whoever it was began to rub my back and finally spoke, “it’s fine (Y/n) I’m here, there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore.”

It was (T/C).

I then felt a wave of safety wash over me and I cried even harder. It’s all I could think of doing.

After a few minutes, I calmed down and finally looked up at him.

“Don’t worry beautiful, Miss Crossland was taken away by Matt and principal Dubois and she was handed over to the police. Matt left his phone recording in the room so there is evidence and you won’t have to deal with her ever again.”

I clutched onto him like he was my lifeline.

“Thank you Mr. (T/C).”

“Of course, anything for you. Do you want me to take you home?”

I let go of him, surprised, I looked up at him to see his smile that melted all my worries away.

“Are you sure sir? Can’t you get in trouble for that?”

“I think taking you home for your safety is the last thing they’ll consider troublesome after this whole predicament.”

He then helped me up and examined my face.

“Damn she really left one hell of a mark on ya.”

“Don’t I need to talk to the police or something to make a statement?”

“If you’d like we can stop by and have them take note of that bruise on your cheek as it can be used as evidence.”

I touched my left cheek to find it was indeed tender and probably bruised. I nodded in agreement and (T/C) took my stuff and we walked to the front office.

After about a half hour of questioning and them taking pictures of my face and arms, they finally let us leave. Usually I drive, but since my parents took the car for work, I told the police I would drive myself so they wouldn’t have to escort me and let me go with Mr. (T/C). After we turned the corner, (T/C) looked down at me and I looked back up, our eyes locking for a few seconds. He coughed, “your backpack is heavy, are your hands the same way?”

I smiled and furrowed my eyebrows in confusion only for him to answer the questions he knew I had.

“Mind if I hold them for you?”

It took a minute to understand what he was getting at, but when it came I blushed profusely and nodded. He quickly looked around to make sure we were alone and took my hand. After turning down a few more hallways, we passed through the back door, and arrived at his nice ass giant white truck.

He opened the door for me and stood close to make sure I got in alright so he could shut the door. I stepped onto the bottom bar and slipped, but felt a pair of firm hands steady me by my ass. My blush deepens and so does Mr. (T/C)’s as he awkwardly chuckles and let’s me go.

“S-sorry (Y/n).”

“It’s fine (T/C).”

And with that I sat down. He closed the door, got on his side, and started the truck and we were off.

After a long silent drive, he eventually spoke up, “you can call me (T/n) you know.” I smile and laugh, “(T/n)? It’s weird calling you that I’m so used to your cool last name haha.” He gave me a lazy but sweet smile in return.

“But only when we’re not in school alright.”

“And when will I be seeing you outside of school hm (T/n)?”

In a split second he bashfully looked down then back at the road, us approaching my home.

“Well, do the leafs play tomorrow?”

“Why yes they do, why do you ask?”

“So many questions from you huh? Well if you’d like, you can come over to my place and watch it with me.”

I was taken aback. We come to a stop and I grab my stuff. I rest my hand on his and softly smile, our eyes meet and I give him my answer.

“I’d love to sir.”

He pulls out his phone and we exchange numbers. As I’m getting out he responds with, “see you at seven then beautiful.”

I squeal internally and could only nod. I close the door and make my way up my porch, once at my front door, I turn back and wink at him before heading inside.

.

God she was so perfect.

My heart was pounding in my chest as she finally closed the door behind her. I was so scared she’d reject me or worse, but she welcomed me with open arms. I found my fingers tapping along to the radio music on my way home. Once there, I immediately began cleaning everything and went grocery shopping so I could impress her with my cooking skills.

After quite the eventful day, as I drifted off to sleep, I dreamed up every scenario in my head. Some dirtier than others of course, I’m a man don’t blame me! And I fell asleep dreaming about her in my arms, hoping she was doing the same.

The next day, when her class came to an end, she caught my eye as she was walking out and I returned her wink she gave me yesterday. I could tell my coworkers observing the skip in my step, but I didn’t care. Today was my date with (Y/n) and no one could ruin it, especially with Madeline gone. Matt sped walked into my classroom at the end of school bursting with questions.

“How did it go? Did she say yes? Did you use the pickup lines I gave you?!”

“Yes, yes, and yes. She’s coming over to my house to watch the game at seven.”

He fist pumped, making me laugh.

“Hell yes dude! This is perfect, now we can move onto phase two! Making her your girlfriend!”

It felt like my smile couldn’t get any bigger because of him.

“Gosh, how could I ever repay you Matt?”

“You already have Mr. (T/C). You gave me an A, didn’t get me kicked off the hockey team, and you’re making (Y/n) happy. That’s all I could ever ask for.”

I pat him on the back as I felt as if my heart was gonna burst.

“Thanks kid. Now I need some advice, do you think spaghetti is a good first date dinner? Or should I go with steak?”

Matt chuckled, “I’m sure whatever you make she will love. As long as you put effort into it and it doesn’t make her sick.”

He laughs and I roll my eyes, “I’m not that bad Matt geez…do you think I should make a move on her or?”

“I don’t think you should yet, no offense but I don’t think she sees this as a date quite yet though I know she hopes it is. This is more of coaxing her into liking you more, learning more about you, and having her feelings for you grow until she’s yours.”

I nod, “yeah good thinking Matt, glad to see you can use it somewhere” I joke.

“Hey! I’m street smart not book smart ya nerd.”

We both laughed and parted ways, I now had about two hours before she came over so I had to prepare myself and dinner.

I decided to make spaghetti and garlic bread for dinner and to wear my ‘Matthews’ jersey to keep it casual knowing she’d be wearing her own. I showered, got dressed, and began dinner and before I even knew it, seven arrived. (Y/n) knocked a few minutes after seven and I swiftly, but not too swiftly, opened the door. She of course came in her (F/H/P) jersey, but she still looked stunning with her hair done and a little bit of makeup and perfume.

“(Y/n)! Hey come in come in.”

She gave me a warm smile, stepped in, placed her bag by the door, and took off her shoes.

“(T/n)! Thanks for having me over.”

“Oh and of course always a little late huh Miss Maine?”

Her smile then turned playful.

“Oh shush come on the game is about to start!”

She then grabbed my hand and led me over to the couch, but before I sat, I grabbed us some drinks.

I hand one to her, followed by a, “thanks” and I flip to the channel it was on. It was in the middle of the American anthem, as they were playing the Washington Capitals, and she immediately stood, causing me to laugh.

“Come on (T/C) you gotta stand for our country!”

We both laughed and I stood to entertain her and it was over. The Canadian anthem starts and she of course sings (screams) along making me laugh harder. I had barely done anything and it was already going great.

The game starts and ten minutes in the leafs score causing us to both jump up in cheer, her more enthusiastic than me. The second period came and I grabbed some plates with food on it and handed it to her.

“Thanks (T/NN), and you have a beautiful house by the way.”

She dug into the food and hummed in enjoyment a little too loudly making me smile.

“Of course. And thank you, it’s almost as beautiful as you.” I wink, causing her to blush deeply.

She excused herself to the bathroom, but five minutes later when she returned, she sat next to me rather than her old spot on the other couch.

“So (T/NN), have you ever been to a game?” She asks.

“Yeah I’ve been to a bunch of games, every time we go on the Washington trip me and the other teachers sneak out to a game. What about you?”

“I’ve only been to a few, but I go when I can. I should have assumed you were a chaperone of that trip seeing as you are a government teacher.”

We both laughed and the commentators came back on, signaling the start of the second period.

“Why didn’t you sign up to go? I thought you loved traveling? Your water bottle is filled with stickers from all over the place.”

Way to go (T/n) now you sound creepy.

“Oh, well now I would have loved to go if I had known there was gonna be a cute guy on the trip.”

My breath catches in my throat.

Did she just flirt with me?

I realized this had been the first time she had and my eyes quickly darted away from hers. I was at a loss of words, “w-w-well I’m sure Mr. Macmara would still let you go if you asked him. He’s a pretty chill guy after all.” She simply smiles, unaware of what her words did to me.

“Oh yeah? Cool then I’ll totally come!”

The puck drop pulled us from our conversation. I was too engrossed in the game to realize that (Y/n) had slowly gotten closer to the point where she was right up against me.

Then of course to ruin the moment, Zach Hymen rips a nice wrist shot that ends up in the back of the net, causing her to stand enthusiastically.

“Yeah that’s Hymie for ya! What a guy!”

I chuckle, too tired to stand with her but still matching her excitement. She sat, but this time she pushed herself onto me, resting her head on my shoulder.

The third period comes and goes and soon the game was over. We both stood and I walked her to the door while she talked my ear off about how amazing Mitch Marner was after he scored in overtime. I walk her to the door and she turns to me, “thank you for letting me come over (T/N) I had a wonderful time.”

“Of course, if you’d like, would you wanna go on a picnic under the stars with me at Frontenac Park this Friday? It’ll be dark so you won’t have to worry about anyone seeing us.”

She smiled sweetly, “yes I would love that (T/N), well I’ll see you Friday then goodnight.”

Then she leaned up and kissed me on the cheek making both our faces flush pink. She quickly turned and left clearly nervous about what she had just done. I close the door and instinctively my hand reaches up where she had kissed me.

She really does return my feelings.

It felt like my chest was going to explode with how fast my heart was pounding. And my cheeks began to hurt as I noticed I was smiling like an idiot all this time, but I couldn’t help it. She made me this way.

.

I rummage through my purse to immediately grab my keys to my car. I fumble with them, of course, as my hands shook from the embarrassing moment I had just caused. I hoped he wasn’t watching me through his window or something to make sure I left safely but it’s all my mind thought of. I unlock the door, hop in, start it, and sped off back home. I had told my parents I had gone to Mo’s house for a bit, knowing she’d cover for me, but I hated lying to them like they could see right through me.

My phone goes off, I see it’s from Mo and answer it, putting it on speaker.

“Hello?”

“So you gonna tell me why if your parents called to tell them you were here?”

“Okay okay. But you can’t make fun of me or tell anyone because this means a lot to me, understand?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die.”

I heard what sounded like something dropping on her end followed by a ‘shush’.

“What was that? Are you okay?”

She sounded a bit frantic but playful, “oh it’s nothing, go on.”

“Okaaaayy, so you know how Mr. (T/C) is my favorite teacher?”

“Yeeeeesss, whyyyyyy?”

“Well...he asked me to come over to his house to watch the Leafs vs Caps game and I might have kissed him on the cheek before I left.”

She squealed, “Oh my gosh (Y/N) I’m so happy for you! Oh and don’t be mad but Matt was in the room when you said that.”

I pause, “...wait why is Matt at your place? Ooooooooo I know why!”

“Yeah yeah Matt asked me to be his girlfriend no big deal.”

I then hear a “no big deal?” In the background knowing it was Matt.

I laugh, “oh and he might have asked me out on an actual date.”

I then hear two squeals over the phone.

“What makes this an actual date?” Matt asked.

“Well we’re going on a picnic under the stars this Friday so that seems more romantic than watching a hockey game dontcha think?”

“Omg (Y/N) you HAVE to come over and get ready with me!” Morgan said, taking her phone back. I laugh, “fine, but only if you keep vouching for me.”

“Deal.”

[mmmhowaboutno]

ive barely talked about this to anyone, i thought i got over it but you dont just get over stuff like this. i just wanna write it somewhere. a few days ago was august 3rd. three years ago on that day i was drugged and sexually assaulted in my own home by someone who i thought was my friend. i was friends with him for five years prior, so it came as a shock to me when this happened, not just because of what happened but because i realized trusting people is something i may do too easily. 

my parents went away for the weekend with my brother, and my “friend” was in town, so i thought i would invite him over so we could drink and play video games. we had been planning to hang out for a while and i thought it was just a chill thing to do with someone youve been friends with for so long. i still think that. i had two shots of vodka and after that started to feel more drunk than normal. i remember him constantly stuffing his water bottle in my face telling me to drink. at first he casually asked if i just wanted some water, so i didnt think anything of it. when things started getting fuzzy he would say “drink this, its just water, youre so drunk youll feel better.” he never drank from it though. guess where the drugs were. 

i remember bits and pieces of what happened and the stuff he did to me. i remember “across the universe” was playing in the background as i drifted in and out of consciousness. i wanted to watch that movie since high school and always put it off, but now ill never be able to watch it. i remember that while i was on the floor and couldnt move or speak he would make me drink water and tell me that i would feel better soon, all while he was rubbing my thighs or reaching up my shorts. i remember being unconscious for a long time, and when i woke up, he was in the bathroom. i could barely hold up my phone, but i called my boyfriend first. it was 4am for him and his phone was on silent, but he said that he woke up right as i was calling for some reason, like he felt something bad was happening. i couldnt talk. its like i was in one of those dreams where you try to run away but cant, except i couldnt get words out of my mouth at all. all i managed to say was “drugged me.” my boyfriend told me to call the police, so i did. 

when he came out of the bathroom, he acted like everything was normal. i can still see and hear him standing over me and asking “you okay?” while i was drooling on the floor and couldnt lift my head from the drugs that he gave me. i cant remember what happened until the police came. i only remember the knocking at the door and them telling me to open it. the knocking was so fucking loud. he kept looking at me and asking why i called the police, to which i couldnt answer anything. he started panicking and went in and out of the rooms upstairs in my house. he didnt answer the door, and they kept knocking. i somehow managed to get up, tripped and crawled down half of the stairs, and opened the door for them. i remember my dog barking and an officer placing me on a stretcher and so many questions being tossed around. they asked me how old i was and had me call my boyfriend so they could talk to him. they asked my “friend” if he knew that i had a boyfriend, like that would make a difference in him wanting to drug me or being responsible for it. 

he told the officers that i had had a lot to drink before he got to my house, that i was already drunk off my ass before he got there. they let him go. i told them where the drugs were. i pointed at the water bottle that was in his hand and i told them that the drugs were there, in whatever broken words i could get out, and they let him leave. they didnt test the water bottle for anything or look around my house or ask me if i was okay. they didnt ask what he did to me or even ask if he did anything, they just let him leave and took me to the hospital. they didnt even question the fact that he was buying a minor alcohol, they just let him fucking leave. 

when i was at the hospital, they tested me for my alcohol levels, which they said were normal. so there was physical evidence that i was not, in fact, drunk, like he said. when i started to come to after waiting at the hospital for hours, i told the doctors where the drugs were. i told them to test the water bottle, i begged and pleaded for them to get in touch with police and tell them that i didnt have any alcohol in my system, that it was drugs that he had given me. there was fucking proof, but they didnt do anything.

they asked me if i wanted to call my mom, and i almost did, but then i remembered that it was her birthday. so, i spent those three hours alone in the room thinking about all the reasons i was a fuck up and how this was all my fault. no one seemed to believe me, so maybe i did make it all up and i was actually drunk. but no, there wasnt any alcohol in my system. i only had two shots. after a while, the doctors told me i could go home. i was confused because i didnt have a way to get home, so they told me get an uber or something. they didnt really care at this point. i called an uber, and went outside to meet the car. once my feet hit the ground outside i realized that i didnt have any shoes on. i dont know why but i thought it was strange. i kinda hyper-focused on that as i waited for the uber. everything around me was so loud. all of a sudden, a young-ish nurse came outside and stood next to me. he said he would wait with me. i saw him pass my room a couple times while i cried silently for those few hours i was in the hospital. he stood outside with me and walked me to my uber, asked the uber driver for his name and number, and told me i would be okay. i remember what he looked like and ill genuinely never forget him. he made me feel safe just by doing that little thing, i knew i could trust him when i didnt even trust myself in that moment. 

the car ride home felt like it took forever. i was scared of the uber driver and the road and the fact that it was dark outside and most of all of what my mom would think and say when i finally told her what happened. i got home and walked up to my house to see that the main lights were on. my dog was waiting for me on the stairs and ran up to me as i walked inside. he kept licking me and didnt leave my side, but after a while of my dog being attentive and moving around, i realized how quiet it was inside my house. his car wasnt outside anymore, so i knew he had left, but this sudden wave of inexplicable fear washed over me. i started very anxiously searching every room, looking behind doors and in cabinets for some stupid fucking reason. i looked under every bed and turned on every light in my house. i dont know why but i thought he would still be there, waiting for me. i was looking for any trace of him still being in the house and waiting to do it to me all over again. i went upstairs and looked in my brothers closet only to find the vodka that my “friend” had brought for us to drink hidden in a corner. in the room next to mine was the bag with the receipt for the vodka that he bought. in the room where it all happened was the pizza we had gotten to eat and the cushions that he put under my head when i kept flopping over and drooling. that room was like a war zone to me. i couldnt look at it or be in it, i couldnt for almost a year. there were remnants of what happened all over my house and i felt like i couldnt escape it. it happened in the place where i was supposed to feel the most safe, and now i felt trapped in it.

i went into my room and got into bed with my dog. it was 4am, i couldnt sleep, and i didnt know what to do. every noise made me jump. every noise outside made me peek through the blinds to make sure that it wasnt his car pulling back up to my house. i found myself more awake than exhausted, as i should have been. im sure he slept fine that night. im sure he was okay and that he went home knowing that i was in the hospital and my mind was going 1000 miles an hour trying to remember every little detail of what happened so i could convince the cops that he had drugged me. because evidence wasnt enough. words werent enough for them to even try to dig into the fact that maybe i was possibly telling the truth. the cops didnt care, the doctors didnt care. they let him go. 

i dont know why i decided to write about this now, because for the most part, im “over it.” i do still think about what happened occasionally. it keeps me up at night sometimes, but not as much as in the first year after it happened. what i think about the most is the fact that no one believed me. i wasnt drugged and sexually assaulted and then reported it a few days later. the cops came and picked me up in the house where it all happened. they stood next to the person that did it. they looked him in the eye and they looked at the water bottle with drugs in it and at me barely conscious and unable to speak. they let him go. so unfortunately it doesnt surprise me when no one fucking cares if someone remembers and speaks out about their trauma years later because thats the moment they feel comfortable enough to finally talk about it. if cops didnt care in the very moment it was happening to me, it doesnt surprise me that they dont care at all. ever. 

he never tried to text or reach out to me again. why would he? i blocked him the next day anyway and i havent heard anything since. ive been silently dealing with it by myself for years. i went to a therapist about it. she told me that it was my fault for inviting him over in the first place. thats what my parents told me too. 

and the thing is, im not even the “worst” of it at all. this happens all the fucking time. theres very substantial evidence and cops and doctors will stare at it and think about how much work itll be going through the motions to do their fucking jobs and protect the people being assaulted. its too much work for them, but not for the person having trouble falling asleep every night for years because all they can think about is the moment they were unable to protect themselves and were taken advantage of. i always compare what happened to me to what happened to other people. i think less of it because so much worse has happened to other people. i wasnt raped, people are every day but i wasnt. it could have been worse, and ive always pushed the whole thing out of my mind because of that, but i dont think i should. i dont think it wasnt a big deal, and i dont think it will ever be not a big deal. i think that this shit happened to me and happens to people every day and no one fucking cares because its too much work for them to care. this isnt a metoo post, i just needed to put it into writing somewhere because im tired of keeping it inside. i dont want pity, i never have, i think a lot of people think that when something like this happens and someone speaks out about it that thats what they want. i just wanna say it. sometimes its just fucking good to say it. so for the people who do think that i want pity or that dont believe me or that support cops or that dont think this was a big deal: fuck you and have a horrible day.

thats it sorry

[bellsmj]

bad liar

summary: peter parker wasn’t the best at keeping secrets. god knows how the world hasn’t figured out he’s spider-man. but his relationship with michelle jones was something he tried hard to keep it just between themselves.

or

5 times people find out about their relationship + 1 time no one does.

characters: michelle jones x peter parker, steve rogers, may parker, ned leeds, roger harrington, flash thompson, tony stark, sam wilson, bucky barnes, wanda maximoff

prompt: secret relationship (spideychelle week - day 1)

word count: 1,666

warnings: language, implicit sexual behavior

I.

it all started with a kiss. their first kiss in general and as a couple. in their defense, ned had left them alone for way too long and they’re 16 year olds with raging hormones and a gigantic crush on each other.

they were on the roof of the avengers’ compound, looking at the few stars on the sky, a bit too cliché for michelle if you ask her, their hands were touching, peter put his hand on top of hers and she was mad.

“peter parker, if you kiss me right now, i’ll never forgive you.” so, obviously, that’s what he did. and she did forgive him, the many kisses they shared after that proved it.

that same night, they decided to keep that relationship a secret. with the whole spider-man thing, he didn’t think it was the safest for people to know.

of course, someone finds out the next morning.

see, the thing is, peter was never late for superhero stuff, so, steve rogers knocking on his door at 9 AM because he was late for the practice they had scheduled the night before wasn’t that weird.

his eyes still bleed whenever he remembers what he saw when he opened the door. michelle wasn’t a shy girl, like, at all. she was very confident in herself and her body. but steve finding their naked bodies tangled in each other wasn’t how any one of them wanted to start their morning.

the teens begged him not to tell everyone and he, more than anyone, understood what they felt. he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone and walked away. thankfully, he kept his word.

needless to say, they were way more careful since then.

II.

they had been dating for four long months and only steve knew. well, steve and this really nice lady who owned mj’s favorite book store.

as much as it was nice that people didn’t know, it also sucked because they couldn’t do any couple-like things in public, which had its good side, since michelle couldn’t keep her hands off him when they were alone. who knew she was so touchy.

they were on peter’s couch, may was at work and after was going to her friend’s house upstate and ned had a family dinner, meaning they had the apartment for themselves.

they were watching a random movie that was playing when they turned on the tv. that is until michelle started kissing his neck. she found a spot, worked on it until she felt it was red enough, then made her way up to his lips.

they were making out on the couch until they heard may’s voice, “peter? are you home? i forgot my bag and keys when i left for work this morning.” they immediately pulled back and peter’s eyes widened, pointing to his room and telling mj to hide. “peter?” she says again.

“u-uh, yeah! i’m here, may!” he makes sure michelle is there with the door locked before he goes open the door.

“took you long enough, i have to hurry, melissa is waiting for me downstairs.... what’s that on your neck, peter?” she says, with her bag already on her arm and her hands on her waist.

“uhh, it’s an a... a rash?” he stumbles over his words. “hm, sure it is. wear condoms. bye, peter. bye, michelle,” she yells. “may!” he says sheepishly, but she had already closed the door behind her.

when she got home on sunday and he asked her how she knew it was michelle, her answer was, “i didn’t, that was a guess. but now that you told me, what’s going on between you two?”

III.

it was hard keeping it a secret, but with ned it was the worst. he was with them almost 24/7 and mj had no idea how peter still hadn’t blabbed about it.

michelle was making her way to the library when she heard him behind her. she bit her lip and walked into the next empty alley she saw.

she heard him drop behind her and turned around, meeting his masked face.

“hi, spider-man,” she smiles and pulls his mask up so that she could kiss him.

“hey, babe,” he says when they pull away. “how many times do i have to tell you that pet names don’t work for us, loser?”

“sorry, m-“ “MJ?” they hear ned’s voice coming out from a pocket on the suit. “shit. h-hi, ned. what’s up?” peter grabs his phone looking apologetic.

“you two? how long?” ned said and it was michelle’s turn to stumble over her words, “u-uh, five... five months?”

“FIVE MONTHS?”

IV.

mister harrington decided that the decathlon team needed some “bonding time”. or “bullshit” in michelle’s words. so, before their weekly wednesday practice they went out to dinner (minus flash. they meticulously planned it so it’d happen the week he was traveling). mj really wasn’t having it.

as soon as they got there michelle yelped, “ow, mister harrington i just tripped and i think i twisted my ankle.” she was supporting all her weight on peter, who, surprisingly, understood her little act. “oh, yeah. i think she’ll have to head back. i’ll help her,” he said and picked her up.

“peter parker, put me down right now,” she said, under her breath, but keeping the fake look of pain on her face. “but-“ harrington started.

“bye! see you guys back at school,” peter said and started walking away.

when they got back at school they went straight to the auditorium. they put the tables and the stand in their places, which took them only 10 minutes with the whole “peter has super strength” thing.

michelle sat on top of one of the tables and peter stood in front of her, his hands on her hips.

“nice little act you did there,” he says, with what michelle calls his stupid smile on his face. “why, thank you.” his smile grows and she kisses it off his face.

the team wasn’t supposed to come back for another half hour, so you can imagine their faces when they’re interrupted by gasps and mister harrington yelling at everybody.

V.

if you go to midtown high, then you’ve probably went to, or at least heard about, flash’s parties. a bunch of drunk teenagers in a huge house isn’t really a good idea, so that’s why it happened at least twice a month.

peter was never a big fan of parties, well, not since the bite, his senses got too overwhelmed, but michelle begged him to go, something about “people watching”. so, may dropped them off at 10 PM, giving her nephew money to call an uber.

the music could be heard houses away and, as expected, when they got inside half of the people were already drunk.

they grabbed a drink for themselves and hung out at the living room until michelle whispered something about it being “too boring” and grabbed her boyfriend’s hand and dragged him upstairs.

she opened the first unlocked door she found and kicked out a couple mid-kiss. “we’re gonna do better use of the room anyways,” she tells peter. “if i learned one thing from coming to all of these parties is that flash has every streaming service available on his tv.”

she jumps on the bed, peter following close behind and grabs the remote, “have you ever cried at a party?” “well, when i was-“ “that was a rhetorical question, we’re watching this is us.”

and yes, they did end up crying. and peter was terrified because michelle did not cry in any circumstances. so, he just pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. he truly was scared.

another episode started and neither of them said anything until halfway into the episode when mj paused it. “you saw me cry and you didn’t faint, i’m shocked.” he laughed, “i’m also shocked, to be honest.” she smiled and kissed him. which was the perfect moment for someone to burst through the door.

“MY EYES.” the person yelled, and they immediately recognized flash’s voice.

+1

they were careful around everybody but the avengers. peter would make long calls in the kitchen first thing in the morning and they wouldn’t even bat an eye.

at this point, they wanted them to find out.

peter called her babe during their calls, no one said a thing. he’d be next to bucky and sam and would text her a bunch of hearts, nothing. one day, he showed up with a bunch of hickeys on his neck and no one mentioned it, which was absurd to peter.

later that day, he went up to steve “hey, do they not care that i’m dating someone or are they just dumb?” steve laughed, “kid, for superheroes, they can be very inattentive. but why not tell them if you want them to know so badly?”

that’s what he decides to do the next time he goes to the compound. tony was developing some sort of emergency protocol for his suit, something only may and ned could access.

they’re all at the kitchen when the couple gets there. peter pulls tony aside and asks, “hey, could you add michelle to the protocol? since we’re dating and all.” tony gasped, “dating?”

“remind me again why did i chose to tell the most dramatic of them.” peter says under his breath to michelle. her nervous smile grows and she answers tony, “yeah, we’re dating.”

sam is the next to hear it. “yo, bucky, did you hear this? the kid is dating the girl kid who always comes here.”

wanda, who’s next to bucky lifts up her head and smiles, “are you really?" “yeah,” mj chuckles.

peter smiles at the mess those grown ass adults were making because he was dating someone. he’d have to be ten times more careful now, but it felt good to have people knowing it.

mj squeezes his hand reassuringly and smiles. peter smiles back and kisses her cheek.

all was well.

[70swonderpoisonstark]

Poison ( IV )

Villain’s are people too, are they not? (Y/N) is taking the “home grown” terror title a little too seriously. You’re really really bad, until you meet a certain super soldier who makes you consider a career change. It’s a lengthy process, but you’re willing if it’s for the right reasons. Maybe you’re not so bad after all?

//basically poison ivy and a little bit of bane but with marvel characters?? I’d be original but I love her and them so much so sorry. also some changes, idk I’m making them my own but completely based of the DC characters SNS. Nickname Ivy, real name, yours duh!//

***this is my first attempt at fanfic so any feedback is welcome! I love all these characters dearly so, here goes nothing! Hope you enjoy***

A/N: Violence, language, crime. Mentions of domestic violence and sexual assault(no details or descriptions) I’ll update these as the chapters come out

recap: the team has been desperately searching for you, but you’ve never been a predictable catch.

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

Months of searching, months. They knocked on every door of every person on the list, tracked every donation, stood on every street corner, and found nothing helpful.

"I don't know who donated that, we're very thankful, so if you do find her, tell her we are so very blessed by her loving deed." The receptionists were too nice, they definitely knew something, they had to, right?

"You think even if I knew her name that I'd give it to you? My child, and a a lot of these children were able to eat because of her. Medical bills, education, groceries she just comes, knocks on our doors and hands us the money. I hope you never find her."

"Yeah, I know who you're talking about. Ivy's not her real name, but that's all we ever get. She gives us what we need to be safe, clean needles, condoms, ways to defend ourselves. She bailed Mary over there out of jail a week ago, totally unfair the way she got arrested. I doubt you'll get much more out of anybody else. We know she's not an Avenger like you guys or anything, but knowing she's around, and cares, makes life out here a lil easier."

These were the responses they got from everyone they questioned. Nobody was willing to give them anymore information than they already knew. You were smart enough to transfer the money through various account trails, all leading to different banks in different countries the US wasn't allowed to have access to, so that was a dead end too.

"Who the hell is this chick? She's poisoned multiple people out of cold blood, stolen millions upon millions of dollars from various organizations and people, and just gives it away? What kind of threat are we dealing with here? What makes her charities different than the ones she's stealing from? Why these families, why these street corners?" Tony was in overload, something that started out so simple spiraled way the hell out of control. He knew chasing a criminal was going to be a challenge, it always was. However, you gave them the leads, and still, not an ounce of information was given.

"I'm thinking the same thing, Stark. We're missing something here, it's not adding up right." Steve glanced over to his friend, everyone was consumed in confusion, but Bucky, he had no idea what to think. Why had she given him the information, what did she mean by she liked him, why did she trust him of all people?

Buried in thought, the team returned to the compound exhausted from another day with no new leads. As they entered the building, soft laughter broke the silence of the semi-defeated heroes. Immediately refreshing the team, all thoughts of a good night's sleep escaped into the wind along with Peter's soft laugh. Tony, who had left Peter at the compound to finish homework, took the lead due to his imminent worry for Peter's safety above everything else.

"Kid, you doing alright in there?" He yelled out into the living area where he last saw Peter. He could hear a feminine laugh along with Peter's, did he have the balls to invite a girl over while they were gone? No, not Petey, there was no way, plus they were so far away from his school..

"Yes Mr. Stark! Mr. Banner's niece stopped by while you guys were gone so we've been hanging out waiting for you guys to get back!" He heard papers rustling and a chair scooting. Tony's hair stood up on end, his muscles clenched, and his heart rate accelerated as the adrenaline rushed throughout his body.

Banner doesn't HAVE a niece.

And if he did, he surely would've shared that she was coming to visit. Tony walked out into the living area, trying to remain as calm as possible to gauge what exactly they were up against. Natasha and Clint headed for higher ground, hoping to gain the upper hand in whatever was about to go down. The rest of the team followed Tony, all to be entirely taken aback.

There you were, the woman they'd been trying to find for way too long, sitting in the living room of one of the most state of the art buildings with a whole ass teenager. You were in a leather jacket, a "Save the Fucking Planet" t-shirt, bell-bottom jeans, and converse, casually talking to Peter. Your red hair was unmistakable, and for Bucky, your piercing (Y/E/C) eyes solidified the fact that it was you.

"Let's not make this awkward, shall we? I know Widow and Bird boy number one are a floor above with their sights locked, bird boy number two probably went around back and is coming from that direction to try and capture me. Well, I have no intention of being thrown in jail, so, if you'd like to avoid a very unnecessary conflict I suggest everybody calm the hell down and chill the fuck out." Nobody moved a muscle. They weren't going to negotiate with a criminal, not in their own house. You groaned, tired of fighting everybody you ever came into contact with, and rolled your exhausted eyes. "Are y'all always this prejudice? I came here, and hung out with your kid, who's probably one of the coolest teens I've ever met, just a by the way. If I wanted to harm you, I would have started with the youngling and picked you guys off as you entered the building, not helped the spider-kid with his homework." Still nothing. Good intentions pave the way to hell, and nobody, especially Tony, was going to risk dropping his guard because a terrorist said so. "Okay fine, we can do this the hard way." As you spoke your last word Natasha and Clint were ripped from the top floor, a thick, green vine had wrapped around their ankles and torn them off their feet. Plummeting them down a story, stopping only an inch short of the ground where they now hung upside down. Tony readied the blasters, Rhodey secured his mask, Steve's shield was in his hand in less than a second, and Bucky was hesitant, but ready to fight. Thor glanced around the room, his kingly intuition analyzing the scene in front of him, anxiously weighing his options, would this be worth the risk? You weren't engaged in battle until you were forced, you posed no threat to the most vulnerable, and even Banner wasn't hulked out.

"WAIT!" Thor yelled to his colleagues. "Wait just a damn minute! Are we willing to risk injury and destruction to our dwelling, to fight a woman whom we've just spent hours looking for, and who was with the child of spiders for Odin knows how many hours? Are you unharmed, son of Tony?" He looked at Peter, who was red in the face, scared, and embarrassed that he'd let a bad guy into the actual Avengers compound. Peter shook his head, he was having the worst anxiety attack of his life being in the middle of all this, but he was physically intact.

"Hey, Petey" You moved closer to him, making him flinch, but fear kept him relatively close. "I know this is a lot for you right now, all of us pointing things at each other, but if you want to go over towards Tony and the rest of your family I won't hurt you." You gave a reassuring forearm squeeze and shifted you full attention on Peter. You now had your back to the team completely vulnrable, looking Peter dead in the eyes with a caring, strong, and kind demeanor that confused the other half of the room while reminding Peter of his Aunt May. Natasha was trying her hardest to free herself from the vined-snare, they just kept growing back anytime she made progress.

"No, I think I'll stay where I am if you don't mind."

"Of course not, love. I don't think it's the safest option for you, but you won't have to listen to me yell at you later." You winked at Peter, who was now completely carefree with his position. Thor had a point, all you had to do was drug him or something and he'd have been dead by the time they'd gotten back, but instead you'd helped him with his advanced biochemistry homework. "If you change your mind let me know, there's no need for you to get hurt in all this, okay?" Another reassuring smile, as your gaze shifted Peter could see your demeanor change, you were fierce, and tense and ready for anything. He knew it was wrong, but Peter kind of liked you. He admired the strong, and if you're ballsy enough to face the entire Avengers team by yourself, that was a pretty strong feat to even try.

Tony hated it, but he was going to entertain the idea, if Peter wouldn't come over to him so he could blast this bitch into mulch then he'd have to play it safe for Peter's sake, who was in so much trouble Tony couldn't think about what to do with him.

"Fine. We'll sit, but the second something sounds or looks funny I'm arresting you, release my assassin's." And you did, they dropped with a thunk, and the guns and weapons they had on their possession were confiscated into the new plant life that enveloped the living room. The team reluctantly sat along the three long couches in the room after what felt like an hour of disarming everybody in the room except Thor and Banner. With the couches full and you standing, they all began to worry about an off guard attack, but just as Tony wiggled out his hands, you GREW a fucking throne made entirely out of a tree that spouted in the middle of their hardwood floor.

"So. You've heard, and seen a lot of me over the past weeks. Lots of stolen things, maybe a hundred bodies, and large amounts of money. All of that ring a bell, yes?" The team, still reserved and hypervigilant slowly nodded, never taking their eyes off of you. "Well, first of all I want you guys to relax, you're not in any danger unless you want to be. I, am Ivy, obviously, and you've all met Viktor, who is not here fyi, and I'm an advocate for plant and human rights. The media still thinks I'm a man of great brute strength and blah blah blah. So. I have a preposition for you."

"And why would we listen to anything you have to say, murderer?"

"Ooh, talk about your cold shoulder." The corners of your mouth turned down, revealing a frown, with absolutely no real emotion behind it. "You know," As you spoke, a very large very frightening thing grew next to you. "I always wondered how many people died in that alien attack however many years ago, or that robot escapade across the world, or even that DC disaster not too long ago? Anybody? Death toll counts? Start at what, at least a couple hundred thousand?" You sat and waited, nobody was going to throw stones at you, especially not when they lived in glass houses. Absolute silence filled the room, tension spreading thick through the air like the plague.

The Avengers were collectively pissed, and rightfully so. This Villainess walks into their home, converts THEIR spider-kid, and is now throwing this in their faces? The only thing keeping any of them going was knowing you'd be arrested in about half an hour. Tony couldn't think of enough ways to broadcast your arrest, would he be the one to escort you to that max security prison in the middle of the ocean? He sure hoped so.

"So, everybody here has killed somebody, yes? Except for you Petey, I know you wouldn't hurt a fly." You flashed him what seemed like a genuine smile. Peter knew the death left after the Avengers battles weighed heavily on Mr. Stark, and none of them were on purpose, he wasn't a bad guy at all, he was just doing his job and the bad guys were the ones who hurt all those people.

You didn't want to re-traumatize the avengers, you knew they were just good people attempting to help a vulnerable world. But they were already looking down on you, thinking of you as a lesser, evil being. Maybe a little sadistic, but evil? Certainly not.

"Not on purpose, not through poisoning, not slowly and painfully how you do it."

"Oh Sammy dear, I think internal bleeding after a buildings fallen on you is a pretty slow and painful death, wouldn't you say?" Another smart-ass smile.

"We never killed on purpose. Innocents have died yes, but never on purpose, and always with a large emotional toll on all of us. You kill on purpose, you take people out one by one. The media may not be on to you, but we know the call signs." So noble, thinking death in any way is better than another.

"Aw Stevie, I'm sure your thoughts and prayers really mean a lot to the families whose loved ones were taken away and never mentioned because the rest of this city was too busy sucking your dicks to care." You shook your head in disbelief, they really didn't know? These "great guys" that wound up dead, they thought THEY were innocent. Good lord, for a unit ran by an intelligence agency, they were fucking idiots. "Do you guys even know the targets I took out? What their skeletons in the closet were? What they did in their spare time? I could name chilling details about every single man and woman I've killed, and trust me I remember all of them." You waited again, you knew you didn't have to explain yourself, but you needed them to trust you if you were to get what you wanted.

"Chad Emerson. Great guy, faithfully married, donated millions to orphanages around the globe, adopted and raised children who weren't adopted before the age of 16. You poisoned him in his penthouse suite, leaving a single black rose behind. What could have been so wrong with that guy?"

"Chad Emerson? That's who you picked for your first option, as if the red flags weren't big enough with him. Try twenty-four  charges for sexual assault of a minor that were all dropped due to the fact that he had money, and 'provided them with a better life'. Try embezzling money from his wifes non-profit, and using that to participate in sex trafficking of, you guessed it, MINORS. Any more questions?" Keep 'em coming, You going to rip the roof of off the rich guy ring of corruption.

"Brandon Wilfred. Again, faithfully married, raised two brilliant children, lives quietly with his wife in the middle of nowhere, and occasionally donates to wildlife and ocean preservation organizations. You strangled this one with a plastic garrote in his living room, again leaving behind a single black rose." Ugh, again with the faithfulness, is monogamy held that high in society that not cheating on your partner made you a saint? It's boring how low the standards are.

"Wilfred, he was a fun one actually. Yes because he not only cheated on his wife any second he got a chance, but also beat the living hell out of her if she said anything about it. I'm not even talking about confronting him, just asking him to wash the sheets afterwards, or at least telling her to leave before fucking his twenty-three year old mistress on the kitchen table. She's had more ER visits within the past year than some of you have had all your life. Oh and the donations? Just a cover to hide the fact that his factories and businesses have been ruining my planet's seas and poisoning her skies with toxic waste and mass amounts of CO2 production. Conservation? All that man knew how to do was exploit and ruin."

This went on for some time, each person they named worse than the last, all violent, corrupt, and some down right evil, not a single one of them were anything like what they presented. The harsh justice you gave them made the Avengers very uncomfortable. You were killing them, ending their lives for good, and didn't care because what they had done had evened out your sin of murder. It was a wicked way to think, terrifying at the least for anybody around you.

"Okay, we get it, every rich man or woman with the white picket fence is a corrupt asshole who abuses their partners and children and animals and steals and lies and cheats and steals. Why are you here, and why should it matter to us?" Tony was not falling for this bullshit. He understood that they deserved punishment, but actually killing in cold blood was wrong.

"Because I want to make a deal. You bring me onto the team, provide legal support for the women, children, and families affected by this cities corruption, and I'll stop killing, and become a full forced good guy." You knew this would be a tough sell, however, you had a slight feeling that things might go her way.

"That's it? You'll stop killing, and we're supposed to just welcome you to the team? You lie, and cheat, and steal-"

"And give the money back to the people! The people you seem to deem unimportant and forgettable!" You were on your feet now. "You say you care about this city but I never see any one of you volunteering in low income neighborhoods. I don't see you providing care for the homeless and the prostitutes. Thousands of people are starving and freezing to death on these very streets. You say you protect this city, but suddenly that protection stops once you hit a certain tax bracket."

**6 Months later**

After a very heated argument, long talks, a contract, extensive fingerprinting, DNA samples, and blood draws, you were allowed to be trained. Your only drawback was that you refused to give them your real name. You'd deleted your true identity years ago, they couldn't trace your DNA to anything or anyone even if they tried. (Y/N) (Y/L/N) did not exist anymore, you'd buried her a long time ago, and refused to share that intangible information with the team, only giving them Ivy, or Poison. You weren't trained as a member of the team, but at the very bottom of the totem pole. You were taught how to punch, how to kick, and how to defend yourself from a thirteen year old with no previous fighting experience. It was awful, but you knew deep down you needed another way to provide for your loved ones. You weren't trained with the other entry level recruits, which was nice; however, one on ones with various members of the team wasn't all that great either. They would either keep it at a beginner level, or use their time to try and kill you. Natasha was your favorite person to train with solely because she never went easy on you. Sure, waking up with two swollen eyes, a busted lip and a fucked up shoulder wasn't your favorite way to start your mornings, but after a while it turned into one black eye, then none, then just shoulder pain, and eventually just busted up knuckles.

The team hated you, or at least they wanted to. After spending time with you for six months they couldn't deny you weren't too terrible of a person. You spent a lot of time by yourself, but the conversations you did have with them were either insanely intelligent or outrageously hilarious. They would get all wrapped up in the conversation and forget they were talking with a confessed serial murderer. You had multiple PhD's, making you one of the most educated members on the team, spoke twelve different languages(Including Russian which really shocked the hell out of Bucky and Natasha one morning), and were tech-savy. You were helpful with chores, cooking(which always made everybody very nervous, you WERE poisonous), rarely complained, and spent your free time in the med bay helping injured recruits.

You, however did complain a lot, to yourself at least. You were not used to rules and regulations, strict training schedules, and intense security. You were forced to sign a log telling FRIDAY when and where you were going, how long you estimated you'd be there, and tracker installed into your phone (which you were very capable of disabling, but that wouldn't be a very good way to build trust, would it?). You were still allowed to help your people out, Tony was more than willing to help provide for the less fortunate, especially if it meant people stopped dying on both sides, and even started mapping out a Stark refuge for the struggling and homeless. He said it would include a food pantry, basic necessities, shelter, and healthcare.

It was a Friday night when the team finally started to warm up to you. Game night to be exact. The team had mandatory bonding time every great once in a while to ground themselves from the busy day to day of tracking hostile threats. You had just gotten back from a twelve hour shift at the hospital (Twelve PhD's were paid for by a Nursing career((and stolen money from now-dead men but shh))) and were walking past the living room to the kitchen when a drunk Natasha invited you to come relax with them for the night. You froze, not knowing whether this was a trick or a joke.

"I'm being serious P, we're being normal people for once and I think there's more to you than we know and we have WINE!"  Okay, you can either run away screaming and potentially murder your chances at these people actually accepting you, or you can take a deep breath, make your way over to the group of people that have kicked your ass for the past six months and deal with whatever repercussions come later. The second one was less humiliating... and it did give you a chance to build rapport.

**2 hours later**

They had drank their way through seven bottles of wine, a large flask of Asgardian mead, two bottles of whiskey, and a very miniscule amount of water. The team was crying laughing and playing truth or dare, each answer seemingly getting more and more detailed.

"Truth." Natasha said, slurring the entire word.

"Uhhh, if you had to sleep with anybody here, who would it be and why?" Tony always went for the sexual ones. Shocking

"OH OH OH!!! I, It would have to be, hm, UH, fuck, uhhhh. Wanda." Cue intense laughter from all the females. "The rest of you are unnaturally greasy and she's the only one I'd be okay with seeing me naked." The men were appalled, however you, Nat, and Wanda were laying face down on the ground shaking with laughter.

"Okayokayokay, Ivy, you know the question, pick!" Though Wanda was sitting on the ground, she swayed with every word and ended up leaning on you as she yelled.

"Truuuuth. Y'all ain't gettin me to do nothin." Giggling filled the room again, You couldn't tell if it was just the girls that were drunk or if everybody else was as trashed and you were. It didn't really matter though, you were actually having fun with these people and you'd do anything to keep it going.

"What actually ARE your powers? Are you just a really good gardener or what?" Oh shit, she wanted to get personal.

"I, can do lots of things, growing scary plants, I can make this thing that makes everybody become like super duper high, uh, I'm immune to all poison, duh, I can charm snakes, I can do a lot of things, mostly plant ssstuff though." You were trashed, swaying, slurring, giggling, the whole nine, and nothing, absolutely nothing could get you to stop staring at Bucky. He was so stunning, even as he sat there and pretended he didn't notice you glancing at him the entire night. He was so off, so unique, an emotionally vulnerable man who truthfully wanted nothing more than to be happy again. You could just eat him up, honesty in men was, in your experience, very hard to come by. (Unless you have them dangled over a balcony but shh)

Bucky watched on as the group became more and more drunk, his eyes never leaving the cold blooded woman beside Natasha. He barely spoke to you the entire time you were around the team. How do you say "Hey you tried to kill me and knocked me out every time we met but I can't stop thinking about you for some reason and I'd like to know why." without sounding like a freak? You were smart and funny and kind of a bitch but in a good way? You had to be messing with him, or up to something entirely. You were slipping your drug into his coffee or blowing it into his air vents, he couldn't be this invested in somebody with a wrap sheet like yours. but here he was. Something about you made him crazy, he hated it, and it wasn't exactly something he could share with his teammates.

"She's actually pretty hot huh tin man?" Sam fucking wilson nudged Bucky as the inner circle kept going with truth or dare.

"She killed people, for sport, Sam." Bucky shot him a death stare, yes, watching you interact was enough to get Bucky to think about an unwholesome thing or two.. He was NOT sharing that with Falcon of all people.

"Yeah but that adds to it, the dark, secret, mysterious 'I could stab you and make you say thank you' vibe's kinda hot." Bucky rolled his eyes, feeling his facial expressions reacting to Sam's shallow statement before his mouth even had time to speak. "That's fine if you don't think so, Cap obviously does." Whiplash. Bucky had turned towards his best friend so fast he was sure his brain slammed into the bones of his skull. Bucky had hoped Sam was teasing to get a reaction out of him, but Steve really was close to you.

"So you can just touch somebody and poison them?" Steve slowly moved closer to you as you answered him. He wanted to know how, somebody as innocent looking as you could kill a person simply by placing your soft hand on their shoulder. You seemed sweet enough, but that's probably why you were so good at your job. OLD job, Steve corrected himself.

"Well kindaaaaa, it's whatever I feel like at the moment." Your body shook slightly as you giggled, causing you to just barely lean into Steve as you spoke. "Like when I met you and Bucky for the first time, instead of poisoning you I just made you really really angry and full of lust." Steve lowered his voice and drunkenly whispered into your ear.

"Are you doing that to me now?" Steve had searched his brain for months trying to find a reason why he found you attractive, not just physically, but as a person you were intense. You never took no for an answer, rarely compromised, were tough as nails, and never backed down from a fight. Your intelligence took the whole team by surprise, you were almost always right and rarely bragged about it. Steve loved all those things, but Natasha was the same way and he didn't feel like this around her. He chalked it up to the alcohol and decided to let the conversation go wherever it was supposed to.

"Are you angry right now? Cause that might be because you suck at this game." Smirking, you winked at the drunk Captain. People were so predictable when they drank. You couldn't deny how handsome he was though. His muscles, the golden boy reputation, his undying loyalty to the people, it was all very enticing... You tilted the amber whiskey bottle back, a little to forcefully and fell backwards pulling Natasha with You.

"Dammit Ivy!" You yelled at yourself, they were all sitting down so it's not like you were in any pain, just embarrassed at how clumsy you never failed to be. Natasha looked over to you, she really was enjoying hanging out with you, and you really liked being liked. The girls were both laughing as you handed Natasha the whiskey bottle. "Apparently I've had too much."

Bucky loved watching you, but watching Steve flirt with you heated his blood to a not so safe level. His super-soldier hearing didn't help much either, the circle might not have heard Steve's flirty whisper, but Bucky sure had.

"I think it's time for me to go to bed, one of you are going to wake me up at the ass-crack of dawn to fuck me up." You tried to stand, but your legs were numb from sitting so long, and the alcohol hadn't helped either. The girls all laughed daintily as you tried to stand straight, you were wobbly, and your steps, when you finally did get up, were crooked and stumbled. You thought you had finally gotten the hang of it when you tripped over your feet, bracing for impact you tensed up, only to be caught by the one and only Bruce Banner. Steve wasn't far behind, and Bucky had shot straight up out of his chair when he saw her trip, much to Sam's amusement, but Banner had gotten there first.

"Thanks, Bruce. I don't understand how my own two feet can plot against me like this." You smiled weakly, embarrassed again by your own clumsiness.

"Self-sabotage, the worst kind. Let me walk you up, if FRIDAY wakes Tony that you're passed out on the floor he might have flashbacks." Looking at Bruce's soft features made it so obvious as to why Banner was your favorite. He was the only person that never treated you too much like a villain. He was always asking you questions about your research, if you'd read a new article that had come out about microbiology, your day. He was like the cool brother you'd never had, and that made you open up as much as you could with Bruce. You took his arm and followed him to the elevator and all the way to your room.

"I appreciate you Bruce, I knows it's a lot of gross emotion but, you're family to me now. Jus figured you sould know." Drunk, blurry vision,  barely able to stand, and now you were professing emotion? You needed to stay far away from the liquor with these people for sure. YOu were sure it would have weirded the always quiet Bruce out, but he cracked a faint smile, kissed you on the forehead and spoke.

"Welcome to the team, Ivy."

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// How’s it doing so far?? I’m really liking how it’s all going so far! P.S. if you guys want to throw random vocab words at me I’ll try and find a way to incorporate them and tag you! Thanks for reading! May Odin bless you! //

[mirror-hero-mira-blog]

My Story

This will be mildly depressing but its my story and why i am how i am and all ive gone through it twenty short years

So I will be twenty soon and people keep wondering and asking or praising me for surviving trauma. I’ve decided to explain in full and un censored detail my process, what i went through, my thoughts during it, the effects and how it left me. There are mentions of abuse, sexual assault, depression, domestic violence, suicide, and very dark thoughts so be warned. My memory is also unreliable as i am never sure what is real and what is not before the age of thirteen so im doing my best to recall everything in order, ages wont be exact as i try to repress and just out right can recall them.

My trauma started roughly when i was 7-9. I recall laying in bed and hearing my parents violently shout at one another, about what i cant recall, and crying because i was afraid of an unknown danger. I remember a rift being made in my house, me being lashed out at, and my mother rarely being around the house. Now before i go further i was a shy child who had little friends, i have one younger brother who is two years younger than I, most of my days, or what i can recall, was in my room reading and later playing on my ds once i got one while rarely going outside to play aka catching frogs and bugs. i dont recall much from when it started, i was a smart kid so i think i knew something was wrong but wasnt emotionally or mentally ready to deal with it. 

Now, i was a big daddys girl but i also loved my mom dearly because well shes my mom. One of my clearest memories from this when i realized it wasnt right was my mom showing up to the house and me being so excited since i hadnt seen her in so long i let her in, she hugged me and my father instantly yelled at me and scolded me. i think the next thing was me being sent to my room but thats where it ends. i remember feeling so confused because shes my mom why cant she be home? why shouldnt she be allowed inside? why cant i be happy to see her? thats the last clear memory besides us getting kicked out of that house due to rent not getting paid.

I remember my mom trying to keep calm and smile and she told me “we have to keep stuff packed because we will be moving soon and need to be organized”. Looking back im really happy she tried to keep little me happy and from knowing.She may not have been the best mom but she certainly loved me then as well as my brother. When we were kicked out i recall my dad not being as in a rush as my mom, he seemed tired and to say flat out like he couldnt care less. I was packed up with a few of my things, the rest in a storage unit including my entire child hood, and moved to a different state. 

Me, my family and our dog were moved in with my mothers mom who was by far not the best but i couldnt do much as i was maybe 11-13? I remember her blaming my father for things he didnt do, i remember yelling and violent arguing between my father and my moms boyfriend (my mother and father had separated if you couldnt guess), my mom in the middle yelling at them to not do it infront of the kids. Eventually we moved from there after my grandmother had called the police on them for some reason (i recall it just being a warning or something nothing serious). My mom had broken up with her boyfriend and moved with us, i shared a room with her and my brother shared a room with my father, at this point we had our original dog and 3 dog sisters who we loved dearly (we being me, my mom, and brother). i remember starting to feel what i would come to realize was the beginning of my depression as well as my anxiety, that i had since i was little, beginning to get much worse. I was bullied harshly during this time and barely got by in most of my glasses because of what happened in that house.

i dont know how long i lived in that house but it wasnt incredibly long, 2 years maybe? i know it was half of middle school there with a year or so at my grandmothers. The first little while was calm, i hardly remember much from when we moved in so im assuming it was. I recall playing wii with my mom and watching tv siting of the floor eating pizza, followed by me and my brother playing the wii version of sims ( i recall him learning how to beat the rng and us never playing again). My next clearest memory is more yelling and banging. Violence. Now i wasnt a stupid kid and was much more brazen than i am now, i was a child genius who could quickly deduce what was wrong. I would get into the arguments, stand between my mom and dad to keep him from hitting her, yell that i wouldnt move or let him touch her. yell at him so much my throat hurt. One of my most clear memories is my mom yelling at me to call the police and as i dialed she came in and locked the door telling me to just not. i checked if she was okay and recall hugging her and just siting there afraid not fully being able to understand.

At some point my dad had enough of me and my mom and threw us out of the house, throwing our things as we sat on the bed of her truck, even throwing our two of the 3 dog sisters at us while we waited for the police, now what happened after this makes me realize just how manipulated and emotionally abused i was. My dad convinced me to come home, leaving my mom at my grandmothers. he convinced me my mom was evil and manipulated me using the state i was in to take me from my mom. he talked badly about my mom constantly and eventually his girlfriend moved in. his girlfriend was as bad as him and i recall feeling unwanted. i have a scar on my arm that makes me recall how brazen and unafraid i was at times. The scar was breaking up a fight her dog had started, it attacked my dog sister and she told me to stay out of it as my dog probably started it, i got in the middle picked up her dog, it scratching me deeply across my upper arm and shoved it into her chest. i picked up my dog and took her to my room. i was still bullied during this time, faced the manipulation at home, and started becoming suicidal.

Now this next part is something im not proud of but shows just how far i was into this manipulation and how far i came. My father kid napped me. Him and his girlfriend decided they wanted to move back to her two daughters and away from my mom. my brother was apprehensive but i was a mindless puppet so i did as told as thats what i was raised to do. we packed up in a 48 hour period, me not sleeping for that entire period and were getting ready to leave. i had this large white monkey i had since i was little, it towered over me and i loved it, his name was marvin. i mentioned why we werent bringing him and that we had to because he was our family and even got a bit teary eyed over it my dad said “if you want it that bad we can leave you and dakota (my dog sister) and you can sit on your ass until your mom swings her ass around to get you”, that terrified me so i reluctantly agreed and was taken to a completely different state yet again with the question of “why would he leave me”. i recall not enjoying my time there and my father limiting my mom talking to me so much i dont really recall much more that a phone call, i was kept out of school for a while until one day police came and told them my mom was taking us back. i left with barely any of my childhood possessions yet again with my dad treating it as her taking us by force, i said goodbye to my dogs and promised i would see them again, i never did and never will.

the trip back i screamed, argued and fought my mom and not yet step father. my dad manipulated me well i guess. i calmed down when we got back to my now home state and got the last dog sister ginny, my mom asked my grandmother to watch her, and headed to my moms home. i had trouble suddenly adapting to a some what better environment where i wasnt treated like a mindless child. i was so damaged and i dont think they knew to the extent. 

In these years i was verbally abused by my mom, step father, and brother but they were so much better than my dad despite it. i was reaching my peak depression and had attempted to commit suicide by this point but had failed. at some point i recall them “cleaning” my room, as due to losing nearly everything i owned i clung to things, and burning what they deemed trash it made me have a break down because well just look at what had happened previously to things i owned. in that period i was locked out in the cold, verbally and emotionally abused, treated like i was a piece of shit and that i was worthless and i believed that for so long. my brother had hit me a few times and even started encouraging my suicidal mind set, my parents (which will not be my mother and step father) said it was just him being my brother. Due to my previous trauma i was desperate for friends and to be liked and it have social interactions it led me into some very very toxic friendships and relationships. i had someone who stole my phone and said she just wanted to see what my number was, but had texted my mother iw as stay for a study session when i wasnt. i got home and was brutally yelled at for lying and they yelled the entire time while forcing me to give them all my passwords then calling me out for lying when i gave them the wrong email password by mistake. in the following time period they would check everything i owned, i had to privacy or sense of self. even to this day i hate people touching and looking at my stuff, im still so paranoid ill get in trouble for something. during this time is also when i was first sexually assaulted.

Yes that said first as it happened twice. they both abused my prior trauma that made me a selective mute that disassociates when in stressful situations. i wont go in depth but even years later i couldnt be in the same room with the first without being sick to my stomach. the second was into my junior year of highschool. between that time and the first i was emotionally manipulated, attempted suicide again and failed, became even more depressed and suicidal, and developed more toxic friendships that i now realize only hurt me as they playfully bullied me and only one of that group, who never did, remains my friend or well my best friend as she stayed by me despite not knowing any of my past. i was manipulated into entering a long distance fwb relationship that ruined a good friendship but also helped make me more stubborn towards people who tried to do that. the verbal abuse still happened during this time and my brother got to the point of doing it the worse. my junior sexual assault ended with us breaking up mutually but him getting such a hate towards me that he tried to ruin my life by turning any “friend” against me and brutally harassing me until a girl i respect so much stood up for me, shes getting married and im excited for her and happy i met her despite us not talking. half way through my junior year i began to realize how bad the people i was around most of the time were for me, so i stopped hangin out with them and started selectively being around people who engaged me in conversation and who actually included me. i was still struggling through the tail end of my suicidal spell and my awful depression as well as  ptsd, having nightly flashbacks that often left my crying and having break downs where i just hated myself so much and hated that i couldnt be normal and happy and not annoy my friends with this shit, it caused me to never talk about it and it made it so worse going through it all alone with only my fucked mental state.

my senior year i gained some self confidence and started accepting myself. midway through i had a bad relapse and nearly succeed in killing myself but managed to yell at myself to not as i was holding a handful of pills to my mouth, not even an inch from it. that was my last attempt. 

i struggled still, had relapses, fought with my own head without anyone knowing as it told me they didnt care and i was a burden so i should deal with it by myself as no one deserved that. i hated when who i told felt so bad for me and wished it hadnt happened because it happened and i cant change that no one can and i dont like being seen as sorry and weak. 

over the years until now i tried endlessly and hard to build my self back up and gain some sense of self and try to begin my recovery.

i still relapse, i still think about killing myself, i still have massive anxiety and panic attacks. but im alive and i survived. 

I count the days between relapses, it happens left often. Im covered in scars but no one can see the ones i purposefully caused anymore. I hurt and ach and want to be cared for and want to be loved and have people around me who care for me and who value me. Im working on building myself a supportive circle of friends and trying to become as stable as i can be with what i have.

My family says i dont need therapy and refuse to try to help me get it so when i move out its my first priority, i have ever lasting mental scars from my trauma that wont ever go away but im slowly learning to live with it and becoming proud of who i am.

something i forgot to mention is yes i was hit as a child. to this day i freak out and panic and will throw myself to the ground if it appears someone is about to hit me. i cant hand yelling or loud noises, im afraid of people and crowds, i have trust issues, i speech impediment, things i cant do because of the scars of my trauma.

now you may be asking how im alive? why i still keep living? how i got through this alone? honestly i cant answer the last one because i dont even know, but the first two i can roughly explain.

i didnt ever kill my self because right before i would i developed a concept of proving people wrong, that i belonged in this world as i had already survived nearly dying at 5 due to an allergic reaction. then as i got older i made the deal that if i made it to 18 that would be enough, im turning 20 soon. Now a days i have people and things to live for. When i think of killing my self i think of my friends L and M (not real names of course), i think of my dogs, my guinea pigs, my dreams, my goals, all the things i want to do. Ive become a role model to others now so i cant just die on them and give up on them. I cant help people and help others going through what i did, i cant be there for the people i care about to ensure they live and make it too, i cant be there to give them what i didnt have; someone who cared and loves them.

ive felt unloved my entire life and it hurts knowing the people who are supposed to love you apparently dont if they do what they do. it hurts seeing people going through what i went through because i know how much that hurts and how over bearing it can be. My trauma made me not want to make the same choices and hurt others in the way they ones who hurt me did. It made me not want to bring life into this world unless i was sure i wouldnt make the same mistakes. It made me crave to be loved and have people by my side and it gave me a weird but reasonable goal: Live a life i can be truly happy and safe in, a life without fear. 

i still struggle daily but im getting by and im getting there, im trying to become someone who i can be proud of, someone who can and will make a difference even if its saving one person.

i fight every day to live and have been for a while, hell i cried on my 18th birthday because well i didnt think i would last that long or be alive to see it.

Im alive, and i will continue to be to show others facing and feeling what i have felt that you can do it. you can live and thrive and fight for your life and end up better than you are or were and better than those who hurt you. Ill stay alive to act as a pair of open arms to those who are in my place, to give them someone who cares, to teach them they dont have to do it alone or hate themselves for wanting to depend on others. 

Im here because i feel i need to be to break the cycle and prove i deserve to live as do they and as do you.

[saveme-ruinme]

Sugar & Spice (M) | 02

~ Sugar Daddy AU ~ Wonho x Reader ~ smut ~ Rated M ~

// 01 //

Word Count: 5k

A/N: bruh. bruh. bruuuuuh. soz this took me so long smut is fuckin hard to write also soz if this sucks bc ive never written proper smut befooooore. 

“Don’t eat so fast,” Hoseok laughs as you scarf down your food. “You’ll get sick and then we won’t be able to get dessert.”

“You should know by now that I always get dessert, doesn’t matter what state I’m in,” you remind him, nonetheless listening to him anyway and trying not to eat your steak in one bite.

“How could I forget? You love sweet things.”

That sentence makes you pause in your eating. It sounded like an observation because you did love sugar more than anything else, but his tone dipped slightly making it sound darker and more suggestive than it should be. He had been doing that since the two of you left his apartment.

Every time you thought that the stifling sexual tension between you had simmered down, Hoseok would say something or look at you differently and it would return tenfold weighing heavily on your chest. Then he’d give you that cute smile that you loved making you believe you imagined that seductive suggestions that passed through his lips. To be perfectly honest you had reached the point where you would willingly give it up whether he was being cute or sexy. You were so far gone, you had become a victim to your addiction to him unable to resist the temptation that Hoseok presents you with.

You were having trouble looking at him, unable to get the image of sweaty, smirking Hoseok out of you head. You hoped he hadn’t noticed how you’ve only glanced at him only a handful of times since he got out of the shower. Still, you were surprised that you remained relatively civil despite the fact that your underwear was probably soaked through with arousal. Luckily you had recently bought a new vibrator and fully intend on putting it to good use once you got home. Oh, the suffering Hoseok put you through, you were convinced it was going to kill you one day.

“Oh! Did you finish that track you were working on?” you ask in an attempt to distract yourself from the heat that blazed through your body.

Hoseok was mildly surprised to hear you ask about his job. He didn’t really talk about his work that often as he preferred to hear about your life than to dwell on his own. “I did, I think it went really well.”

He felt bad, here you were being nice and pleasant to him and all he was thinking about was how much he wanted to fuck you. Hoseok had masturbated in the shower after you had shown up at his apartment to the thought of you, the look of open shock and adoration and lust was the only thing he kept thinking about. The way your pupils dilated at the sight of him, the blush that dusted your cheeks and reached the tips of your ears, the way your mouth parted slightly from being surprised. Oh, the things he could do with your pretty mouth.

"Will you let me listen to it?" you lean forward excitedly, a playful grin spread across you face.

Hoseok couldn't help but mirror your grin. "You know I'm not allowed to show you."

He couldn't help but smirk at your petulant behaviour, snickering at the annoyed sigh you let out. He imagined that your petulant behaviour in other situations. Situations where he can use it against you, teasing you to tears and making you beg for him to give in and finally bring you relief. You had grown very content with him in these past few weeks. You had gotten too used to getting what you wanted from him that when he said no you would throw a little fit; pouting and pleading with him until he caved. Which he almost always did, there were very few things Hoseok denied you, and half of those very few things was because you refused to accept them.

Unfortunately, the music he made full under the things he wasn't allowed to give you, for contractual reasons. That didn't stop him from enjoying you huffy behaviour, unconsciously licking his lips as his mind turned dark as he thought up a whole heap of scenarios that would cause you to sulk, which he would use against you until you were crying for him to stop and keep going at the same time unable to pick because you'd be lost in the spaces between just enough and too much. Being in public was your one saving grace, because if you two had been in the privacy of his own home he would've been on the other side of the table and devouring you before you could blink.

It seemed as if the heat was getting to Hoseok; you noted how pink his cheeks had become and how the dark colour of his eyes were beginning to become swallowed by his pupils that had started to dilate. Then he had to go and stick out his tongue, swiping it quickly over his pretty pink lips that you already had a hard time trying not to look at. Still, you couldn't help but flick your gaze when his tongue peeked out of his mouth to moisten his lips. You didn't understand what had him all hot and bothered, but you definitely knew why you had started to become a bit too warm, with the heat blazing the most between your legs.

Shifting around on your chair slightly to try and unsuccessfully relieve some of the pressure, you were forced to take refuge in the bathroom, mumbling an excuse before hurrying away almost knocking over one of the waiters in the process. You tried to not remember the continuous image that ran through your head of Hoseok's hot, wet tongue sliding out of his mouth and along his lips teasingly.

You were so preoccupied with trying to get away that you didn't notice Hoseok getting up immediately and following after you, expertly dodging the waiter you almost knocked over. If you had of noticed him following you, then you would've been prepared for the foot that jammed itself in the door before you could close it. Nonetheless, you hadn't been paying attention, and were very much shocked when the door wouldn't close properly. And when you glance up to find out who was stopping you from hiding away in the bathroom, Hoseok's large body was already pushing through the door frame.

"Hoseok- what-" you couldn't formulate words as you watched him kick the door shut, locking it behind him.

The restaurant he had taken you to was one of those fancy places with the stand alone bathrooms, so that each toilet was in its own separate room instead of the stalls like at McDonalds. Hoseok was especially grateful since it granted him the privacy needed to ruin you.

He crossed the room over to you in two steps, wrapping his thick arms around you and pulling you tight against his body. You could feel the hardness of his chest pressed against your soft breasts, his arms like steel caging you against him so there was no space between you. You felt every breath he took, his chest pushing up against yours as he inhaled sharply. Slowly the air in your lungs seemed to disappear as you struggled to comprehend the situation you found yourself in. Hoseok was pinning you with a hard stare, almost no colour left in his eyes as he peered into the depths of your soul, finding the desire you have burning for him buried there.

"I want you," he breathes, the hot air fanning against your face. "Let me have you, please."

The words get stuck in your throat. You've lost yourself in the heat of his gaze, allowing his lust to swallow you whole. You nod stupidly, jerking your head hoping that would be a good enough answer. He leans forward and for a hopeful second you think he's going to kiss you. At the last second, he dodges your mouth, brushing his lips against your cheek and softly biting your earlobe causing you to gasp, pulling on it with his teeth until it slips from his mouth.

By now you're a quivering mess, desperately holding onto his sides in an attempt to ground yourself. Not that it works, the muscle there was like steel under your fingertips. It made you want to explore the rest of his body, wondering if there was any part of him that was as soft as the heart that existed underneath his toned exterior.

"I need to hear you say it, baby, I want to hear you say it," the words drip like honey from his tongue, and you wonder if they taste just as sweet. "Say it, tell me what I want to hear."

"Yes," it slips out in a whisper, the consent of your darkest desires. "You can have me, please Hoseok, I need you."

When he hears his name come from your mouth, breathless and pleading for him, the last wisps of his self-control that he desperately held on to turns to ashes in his fingers as his lips find yours in a searing kiss that sets his body ablaze. He burns hot from your kiss, stealing the air from your lungs and replacing it with the fire that you've ignited in him.

You can't breathe, you can't think, the only thing you are aware of anymore is Hoseok when his tongue touches yours. His presence captures your mind, and invades every part of your being, filling you like smoke. His mouth is pressed hard against yours and it’s your sweetest nightmare come true with how hard he kissed you. It feels like all Hoseok’s yearning for you has erupted, and there is nothing you can do but let it swallow you whole.

He pulls away for a moment, gasping for air. It feels like you’ve been kissing for hours, or was it seconds? Time has lost all meaning in the cramped bathroom. You feel lightheaded and you don’t know whether it’s from the intensity of that kiss or the lack of oxygen but you can’t find it within yourself to care. All you can focus on is the colour dusted along Hoseok’s cheeks making his face seem brighter and the way he stares at you, dark and seductive with only one thing swirling around inside that pretty head of his. It’s increasingly difficult for you to get your breath back.

Once Hoseok feels like his lungs aren’t burning anymore, he closes the distance between you, taking his time getting nearer. He enjoys watching the way you squirm, little gusts of air leaving your parted mouth unevenly and he’s struck with the urge to stick his fingers in your mouth, making you suck on them. A wave of arousal pulses through his entire body at the thought of your hot tongue swirling around his fingers as you suck them deeper into your mouth.

Jesus fuck, he curses trying not to break to cool façade he has put up to tease you. If I’m already this fuckin’ hard just thinking about it, I might cum when she actually does it.

Despite becoming almost dizzy from the thought, Hoseok presses himself against you, smirking all the while. You were oblivious to the fact that you could easily break him out of his faux arrogance, pinned underneath his heated gaze and lost to any kind of rational and conscious thought. He was glad that you didn’t know how weak he was for you because for now he could use it to his advantage to endlessly tease you. There was no doubt in his mind that you would do the same once you figured him out, until then he wanted to keep you in a lustful haze, thoroughly enjoying your wide-eyed innocent expression.

You gasp in surprise when Hoseok pushes himself against you, effectively trapping you against bathroom wall, and you feel his arousal pressed tight against you. There is no space between you too- he made sure that you could feel every part of him on your own body. He was like steel, rigid and hot against your soft and pliant body. It was intoxicating.

He was intoxicating.

Especially when he was determined to feel your soft body, running his hands along every part of you he could reach. You were mesmerised by his hands gliding along your clothed flesh, squeezing at every handful he could grab.

“You feel nice,” he says against your lips, grabbing a handful of your ass. “So soft and squishy, I like it. Don’t you want to touch me too?”

The pout on his face doesn’t match the way he’s shamelessly groping you. You always suspected he had somewhat of a praise kink since he was always complimenting himself just so you would agree with him. Hoseok liked to show off, enjoying the praise he got when he did something good, and you were always more than willing to give it. He has given you way too much for you not to say every nice thing you could think of when the opportunity arose.

“I can already feel all of you,” you reply breathlessly.

Hoseok struggles to keep the pout on his face, elated at your response. “But I want to feel your hands on me,” he whines, nudging his nose against your cheek.

“Okay,” you say more to yourself than to him, awkwardly lifting your arms to feel him.

Your fingers fidget with the hem of his shirt before you bravely venture underneath, pressing your palms flat against his lower abdomen. Sliding your hands up, you feel the ridges of his abs, the muscle taunt underneath your fingertips. It’s an erotic experience standing in a bathroom feeling Hoseok’s muscled body. He shivers when you flick your fingers against his nipples, and you feel his body flex in response.

More excited than ever, Hoseok bravely slides his hand between your legs, dipping inside your tights to press his fingers against your clothed core. It becomes hard for you to think with his hand stuffed down your pants, creating delicious friction; his fingers rubbing against your clit through your underwear. His tongue slides against your neck, hot and wet, tasting the skin there. You squirm against him, opening your body for him to please.

You realise belatedly that you could come like this. Hoseok suckling softly on the skin above your collarbone just enough to not leave marks, and his fingers driving your into a lust filled haze. You had always been incredibly sensitive, but this was a new level of ridiculous; being able to get off from clitoral stimulation over your underwear in a restaurant bathroom.

"Hoseok, wait," you gasp out.

At your words, he stops immediately. His fingers pause in their ministrations but he doesn't withdraw them - leaving them pressed hard against your clit. You wish he would pull his hand out of your pants, it's difficult for you to concentrate when the only thing you can think about is the way your clit throbs from the lack of attention. He pulls away from your neck, glancing over you worriedly and it makes you want to cry because he's so damn considerate and all you can think about is how much you want to come.

"Are you alright? Am I going too fast for you? Because we can stop if you want," he rambles, cupping your face and gently stroking his thumb across your cheek.

"No- no- no- I'm fine," you're quick to reassure him, not wanting him to think you didn't want him to dick you down by the end of the day. "It's just that I don't think we should have sex in a bathroom. We haven't even finished our meal."

Hoseok looks stunned, scanning the room around him like he just remembered where the two of you were. "Oh my God," he whispers, horrified at himself. "I was going to fuck you for the first time in a bathroom."

His casual admission of actually wanting to have sex with you makes you flustered, even if it did sound a bit strange coupled with his innocent, appalled tone. Pure adoration breaks you out of your haze, just so you can admire how cute Hoseok is seconds after he was intent on trying to make your orgasm.

"It's okay," you chuckle. "I'm not opposed to semi-public sex, it's just that I think the waiter is going to notice we're missing."

You watch as Hoseok's cheeks colour pink as he blushes in embarrassment at the thought of something finding the two of you messing around in a bathroom. This was one of his favourite restaurants, he'd hate to never come back here because of this even if he did enjoy the slight exhibitionism and thrill of being caught. His sheepish expression makes you smile so wide it feels like your face is going to split.

"Ah-you're probably hungry and I'm distracting you from eating. We should go back, you need to eat."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Hoseok, we can eat later. I'm so sexually frustrated that I might explode if you don't do something about it."

Hoseok is silent for a long moment, studying your face. You say nothing but stare back at him. Heat climbs into your cheeks at your outburst, hoping that he does something other than just look at you. Anxiety bubbles in the pit of your stomach, filling you with unease as he studies you. It was hard to tell what he was thinking; his eyes were dark and hooded, and his face was unreadable- no emotion you could easily detect present. Or maybe you were just bad at reading people, you didn't even know he was going to follow you into the bathroom.

You wish you could read his mind. You know that he wants to fuck you - he admitted to you a minute ago, but did you come off as too desperate and turn him off? Does he not like you anymore? Did you ruin the moment? Paranoia starts to taint your mind, dampening your arousal as the seconds tick by, effectively ruining the moment.

"Let's go back to my place," he says finally, dragging you out of the bathroom.

Inside the safety of Hoseok's apartment, there is no more hesitation or waiting. There is no teasing or taking time to explore each other. The both of you are much too desperate for that; pushing up against each other, needing to feel his body against your own. The frustration that has mounted between the two of you for months has finally broken, filling and freeing you from the sexual desperation that has been plaguing you since you met Hoseok. It's messy, the way your mouths are clashed together, tugging carelessly at clothing, not knowing whether you were undressing Hoseok or yourself, only knowing that your clothes were falling away as the two of you tripped around each other going to his bedroom.

He's stealing your breath again, seemingly sucking the air right out of your lungs to fill his. You're memorising the inside of his mouth with your tongue, familiarising yourself with the taste of him. Hoseok is groping at your body; his hands are warm against your bare skin, feeding into the fire coursing through you and converging between your legs.

You don't even realise that you've made it to his bedroom until he's separated himself from you and you're falling onto the soft sheets of his bed. There a second for you to admire Hoseok's naked glory; skin glistening from the sheen of sweat that covers his skin, chest heaving from being out of breath. Your eyes are drawn to the outline of his cock straining through his briefs. Subconsciously you press your legs together to unsuccessfully relieve some of the pressure building there.

Hoseok regards you with his hooded gaze, noting your erect nipples and the way you clamp your legs together. Curious, he kneels on the bed, crawling his way over to you skimming his hands along your legs as he goes. He parts your thighs gently, unable to look away from the wet spot staining your underwear. Your body flushes all over as you struggle with self-consciousness, resisting the urge to close your legs. You don't though, the hungry look in Hoseok's eyes is enough for you to spread them a little wider, slipping your fingers under the waistband of your underwear.

He watches you slide your underwear down your legs, unable to take his eyes off the way your free yourself from the flimsy scrap of fabric that is stained with your arousal. Once they were off, you tossed them aside and swallowed your anxiety and fear, parting your legs once again, giving him the perfect view of your dripping cunt. Almost subconsciously, his tongue darts out swiping over his lips with the need to taste you. He couldn't help himself as he ran his thumb over your wet heat, coating it in your arousal and pressing it against your clit making you shiver.

"Hoseok," you moaned out, squirming as he toyed with you. "Please, please don't tease- I can't take it."

"No?" Hoseok pushes his thumb inside of you, as far as he could go. Your walls clenched around his thumb and he bit his lip as another wave of dizzying arousal washed through his body. You whined at him, gripping at his sheets and writhing from his teasing.  "Are you not enjoying this?"

You were- you were enjoying this way too much, but it wasn't enough. "Pleeeease Hoseok- I need you- I need more."

Begging. He couldn't believe he had reduced you to begging, he always thought that he would be the one to beg for any kind of satisfaction. But here you were, naked in his bed, writhing around moaning and begging for him. Hoseok struggled to think about anything else other than burying his cock inside you. God, he was so close to coming, already so close and you two had hardly done anything.

"Alright baby, I'll give you more."

Faster than you could comprehend, Hoseok had stood up and whipped off his briefs, exposing himself to you. His cocks stands proudly against his abdomen, pink, thick and already leaking with precum. Your mouth waters at the sight of it, and you’re desperate to taste him, becoming more than eager to choke on it. Without thinking, you reach out for it while he was in the middle of putting on a condom, much too excited to have him in your mouth. Hoseok catches your hand before you can touch him, his free hand on your chin forcing you to look up at him.

“No, I’m going to come as soon as you do,” he scolds, pushing you back on the bed.

You scramble to sit up, not even noticing the loss of his teasing demeanour in your desperation for him. “I want to suck you off.”

“No,” Hoseok says again, forcing you on your back and moving to hover over you, holding your thighs open so you couldn’t move. “I’ve been waiting too long to be inside you, I can’t wait anymore.”

Hoseok uses his strength against you, pinning you to the bed so you wouldn't distract him from his mission to properly fuck you. His cock was throbbing something awful, making his desperate to bury himself inside of you, needing to feel you drenched walls around him. He holds himself up above you on his hands, crowding you with his large frame. You're surprised by his size, as he seems much bigger than usual as he hovers over you. Your whimper when you feel his cock sliding against your core as he leans down to kiss you.

You try to shift your hips, craving any sort of friction against your swollen clit. There has barely been any proper foreplay but it feels like you've come twice with how sensitive you are. Though you couldn’t care less about foreplay, you were aching to be filled, to be stretched open by his cock. Your whole body was tense with anticipation.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, reaching to grip his ass to press his hips closer against yours. “Please, Hoseok, please I need you to fuck me.”

Hoseok was in no mood to play games anymore. He had reached his limit long ago. He couldn’t ignore the way his cock pulsated at your pleading, he was far too consumed by his arousal to care about anything else anymore. Every part of him screamed with the need to be inside you.

A part of him did want to taste you, to feel you orgasm on your tongue but he shoved that thought away, promising to eat you until you passed out later.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he presses his mouth against yours, swallowing your cries as he buries his cock inside of you.

You're so wet that there is no resistance when he pushes inside. It makes you clench around him as he fills you up. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes from being overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of being deliciously stretched open and filled so good that you were questioning your belief in god. He’s thick, and harder than steel inside of you that it makes your eyes roll.

Hoseok curses once he’s seated deep inside of you. “You feel so good, baby, holy shit.”

You whine his name again, bucking your hips against his to get him to move, desperate for any kind of friction. You could feed your orgasm building quickly; the months you spent sexually frustrated made you sensitive and you’ve become fucking greedy for any kind of sexual contact. All you want in this moment is for Hoseok to ruthlessly pound you into the mattress.

Hoseok moans and presses your hips into his bed, preventing you from moving. He buries his head in your neck; you can feel him breathing against your neck. “I’m not gonna- fuck- wait.”

He can feel it right there, your wet warmth has him already so close to his orgasm. He should be embarrassed by the fact that he’s ready to come so early when you’ve barely done anything to him, but he’s been waiting to have you for months. Hoseok has dreamed about this moment for months now, he doesn’t want it to end – the overwhelming sensation of being inside your soaking heat, clenching around him so hard it feels like he couldn’t pull out if he tried. Not that he wants to.  

But he’s more than aware that you need more stimulation than that. Gently, he wraps an arm around your waist, moving away from your neck to look at you. You’re caught off guard by the way he looks at you; open adoration and desire, looking at you like all his dreams have come true. You’re sure that you have the same expression on your face, not quite believing that you’re lying in his bed and Hoseok is balls deep inside of you. He looks ethereal, flushed from sex; his pupils are blown wide, cheeks flushed and sweat collecting at his forehead. You feel like the luckiest person on earth to be able to see him in such a vulnerable state.

Without any warning for you, Hoseok tilts his hips back and starts a hard pace, knocking the breath out of you and drowning you in the intoxicating sensation of his cock filling you up over and over again. His hips rock against yours violently that it causes you to become mindless, only able to focus on the intense pleasure pooling between your legs. You’re unable to do anything but cling to him.

Fingertips dig into Hoseok’s skin, nails biting at him. You don’t even realise that you’re doing it – or that he enjoys the pain as he scrapes his teeth along the column of your neck in return. Kissing is much too difficult when you’re barely able to comprehend anything other than the irresistible stimulation of Hoseok’s body pushing inside of yours. Nor do you realise how vocal you’ve gotten, moaning out his name. Hoseok certainly notices, and he has to fight with everything he has not to come from the sound of you desperately moaning out his name. His name has never sounded more pleasing than it did coming from your mouth as you repeated it like a prayer.

Your desire reaches a crescendo as Hoseok reaches between your bodies, fingers carelessly rubbing at your clit, lighting the nerve endings there on fire. Your back arches off the bed pressing your chest into his and your whole body shudders violently from your orgasm. You’re aware of nothing other than the mind-numbing pleasure coursing through your body that leaves you breathless.

Hoseok comes the second you do, set off by the way your body shudders against his and he has to hold your hips in place so that he doesn’t accidentally pull out and ruin his orgasm. He buries his cock as deep as he could, relishing the way your walls clench around him, milking him for all he’s worth as he spills into the condom. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wishes there wasn’t the thin barrier of the condom.

You don’t know how much time has passed when you come down from your high, panting and sweaty, boneless from your powerful orgasm. You’ve never come that hard in your entire life, and it makes it difficult for you to keep your eyes open as it has completely exhausted you. Hoseok isn’t much better than you, not wanting to pull out and end the peaceful moment after such an earth-shattering orgasm. But when the pain of overstimulation kicks in, he’s forced to slip out, smirking when you shudder from the feeling.

“Are you okay?” he asks, pressing soft kisses against your cheeks and the corner of your mouth.

You breathe out an affirmative response, unable to fight to keep your eyes open any longer.