#no one knows where Peter brought the cocaine

[stardusksx]

BECAUSE OF YOU, spencer reid x named!oc

— part one .

( summary! ) Spencer & Lydia where best friends, until they weren’t. Having to see each other at work everyday was certainly an exercise in professionalism, but when Reid is arrested in Mexico they can no longer ignore each other.

( warnings! ) Canon typical violence, discussions of drug use, best friends to lovers with a whole load of angst in the middle, dysfunctional family dynamics, talks of past neglect, future mentions of sex/smut, let me know if I missed anything! )

next part

"HE'S WHAT?" LYDIA STOPPED IN HER TRACKS, PHONE RESTING BETWEEN HER EAR AND SHOULDER. Her arms were full of groceries, a bunch of keys dangling limply from her fingertips. She blinked at the number on her apartment door in bewilderment.

"He's been arrested," Emily answered, her voice uneasy, "They're holding him in Mexico."

"Mexico?" She echoed, "What the hell is he doing there?"

There was a pause, "They... they're holding him on drug charges."

The bag slipped from her hands, but she didn't bother picking it up, instead adjusting her grip on the phone in case she hadn't heard right. "Emily, this is Spencer Reid we're talking about, right? He wouldn't... he wouldn't go near drugs." Not after the dilaudid. But then again, she didn't really know him that well anymore. What if he'd started taking it again?

Her thought process was cut off as Emily further explained, "They're holding him on possession, with intent to distribute. They found him with cocaine and heroin."

"Cocaine and —" She brought a hand up to rub the space between her brows, "That makes no sense, why would— what's going on, Emily?"

"I have no idea, Lydia," She sighed over the line, "I know it's your day off, but we're really going to need you to come in for this one."

"No, yeah, I'll be right there." She responded, finally managing to shove her key into the door and unlock it, "See you in fifteen."

Lydia didn't bother packing away her grocery's, merely deposited the bag on the counter before she rushed to shove on a dress shirt and slacks. She was out the door with her go-bag in under five minutes, arriving at the BAU in less than fifteen. JJ was the only one in the bullpen— she was ringing her hands nervously, and when Lydia gained her attention, the relief that washed over her face was only short lived.

"They want you on the field in Mexico," She said quickly,  standing straighter, "Emily, Alvez and Rossi are already on the plane. I would go, but the boys—"

Lydia placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, "You don't need to explain, I got this," She gave what she hoped was a mollifying smile, "Plus, your Spanish is terrible."

JJ let out a breath of a laugh, the anxiety still contorting her features. They parted ways, the women heading towards the round table as Lydia rushed out to the tarmac and onto the Jet. Luke moved down a seat to make room for her, Rossi and Emily sitting opposite. They all offered her brief greetings, but it was overshadowed by the tense energy they were all carrying. The take off was hasty, and they were in the air for a mere five minutes before Garcia connected them to the round table back at the BAU.

"This has got to be scratch," Tara spoke, "He was laying low, now we know why."

A sickly feeling settled into her stomach at the suggestion— Peter Lewis had been tormenting the team for years, forcing Hotch into protective custody after the stalking of his son and abducting members of Tara's family. The suggestion that he was now focusing on Reid was not an easy pill to swallow.

Luke's brows pinched, giving a slight shake of the head "Crossing the border as a fugitive is a huge risk."

"The reward is greater," Emily countered, "He's been punishing the team and now his target is Reid."

"Peter Lewis dropped off the map after attacking Tara's family, maybe he's been hiding in Mexico this whole time."

"We also have to consider this isn't related to him."

"Who else could it be?" Rossi questioned.

"Drug cartels, could have threatened Reid and used him as a mule." Luke offered.

"It's possible," Lydia supported, "But they'd usually go for more low-profile members of the public, picking out an FBI agent to do their dirty work could bring more trouble than it's worth."

"Not if they didn't know he was an FBI agent."

Lydia thought for a moment, but the more she did the more the cartel theory loss it's credibility for her. She shook her head, "No, it doesn't make sense. I mean, why would he be in Mexico for them to use him in the first place? This feels too... improbable to have just been a case of bad luck."

JJ voice sounded, explaining that she'd managed to get in touch with Diana Reid's nurse who had confirmed the woman was safe and stable. Lydia remembers meeting Spencer's mother on a case in Las Vegas— the man had been struggling with some inner demons, and watching how the mere presence of the women had helped to calm him had made her stomach twist. Spencer loved people in a consuming kind of way, and it was clear when he interacted with Diana that he'd do anything for her.

"How long did he tell the nurse he'd be gone?" Luke asked.

"Three days." JJ supplied.

Emily nodded, "Makes sense, after the Palm Springs case Reid said he had to get back to Houston to talk to his mom's doctor."

"Well, Houston is only a five hour drive from the border." Tara added, "Question is, why did he go down there?"

"And why did he have narcotics?"

"Yeah, exactly. I'm not going to spill any secrets i'm not suppose to, but those drugs where planted on him." Garcia stuttered slightly, determination in her voice. Lydia nodded mutely, feeling anxiety crawl up her from the mere memory.

"Absolutely, there's something bigger in play. That's why he kept it a secret. There's something he didn't want to share with anybody." Walker added.

"Okay, so what would make him risk everything?"

"His mom." Lydia answered, vaguely aware of JJ speaking the words simultaneously. Luke shot her a curious look, but she avoided his gaze so she wouldn't have to answer his silent question how do you know?

"But she's here, and she's safe." Garcia's confusion bled into her voice before she paused, "Wait, Cruz just sent me the arresting report," The sound of her fingers against the keys of her computer sounded, "Says here that Reid was involved in a high speed chase..."

The shock was palpable, "What? But he rarely ever drives?"

"Non of this sounds like him. It says he was wearing jeans, he was really confused, and according to the arresting officer, he was really high on something."

"No, no. He wouldn't do that. Not after what happened with Tobias Hankle." JJ sounded adamant, and she nodded in silent agreement.

"Who was Tobias Hankle?" Luke asked softly.

"He was an Unsub with DID," Lydia explained quietly, "He... kidnapped Reid. Drugged him. It was... well... it was really bad. He almost died—" she couldn't bring herself to say that, technically, he did. It was one of her worst memories. Luke stared at her, disquieted.

Someone must have explained it to Tara too, as she questioned with dismayed surprise in her voice, "When was this?"

"Ten years ago."

A tense silence followed before Rossi changed the subject, "What does the report say about the intent to distribute?"

"It says he was charged with constructive possession, and in the duffle bag there was cocaine, cash and three blocks of heroin."

She felt her trepidation like a vice on her lungs, bringing a hand up to rub over her eyes. It was easy to sense the group's collective unease.

"Okay, we'll be there in less than an hour." Emily said finally, "Dave, can you reach Jack Garret?"

Rossi shook his head slightly "He's busy on a case, but he promised to do what he can."

"Well, were gonna need all the help we can get."

After hanging up on the round table, they talked over more theories and tried to fill in the blanks with possible scenarios. There was too much information missing for anything near definite to be decided on, and within the hour they were landing in Mexico and on their way to the Jail that was holding Spencer.

It was windowless and barely illuminated by harsh lights, a seemingly constant rattle of metal in the air. An older aged man led the group, dressed in a uniform bearing the Mexican police symbol. "Thank you for calling us." Rossi said thankfully.

"It is not often we have a US FED in our custody." He responded, guiding them through a mesh door. Something about his tone was almost accusatory, but it was too faint to be a reasonable cause for worry.

"We appreciate you letting us talk to him, have you gotten his tox-screen back yet?" Emily questioned.

He shook his head, "No."

"You will need to expedite that, we have cause to believe Agent Reid was drugged."

"He was definitely high." He said, "And driving like a maniac with twenty thousand dollars worth of heroine in his possession. Both of which put my officers at risk, you're in our jurisdiction."

Lydia noticed Luke's attention on something else, and she followed his gaze to a sight that made her heart drop. Spencer sat curled in on himself, a set of bars separating him from the rest of the room. She exchanged an uneasy look with the man next to her, hanging back slightly as he approached.

"Hey, Reid," He spoke, and she watched as he turned towards Luke was blank look that vaguely showed his confusion. God, she thought, this is bad. If Reid couldn't recognise someone as familiar as Luke on an instant, then the drugs in his system were still heavily in effect. "It's good to see you brother. It's me, Luke."

It took another moment, and she wasn't entirely convinced he fully recognised him still when he got to his feet. He approach the bars meekly, shoulders hunched, "Luke. Thank you for coming."

Lydia's gaze dropped to the bandage covering his hand, evidence of a nasty injury. Her brows furrowed. Rossi approached next, followed sharply by Emily, "We're going to get you out of here, kid."

Spencer's gaze flickered between them, and she watched him try to piece things together in his head. "We need to work out some things with the locals, okay?" Emily spoke slightly slower, hoping to provide him with some clarity. He gave the smallest of nods.

"Who was your contact down here?" Luke questioned.

He looked up before speaking slowly, "Rosa... Rosa Medina. I think she's a doctor." He pulled up his sleeve, revealing some faint writing.

Luke took a photo of it, "Where did you meet her?"

He shook his head, "I don't... I don't remember."

Emily glanced back at her, features puzzled. She pulled her lip between her teeth and offered a slight shrug, gaze returning to the man that looked almost unrecognisable.

"If you saw her, would you recognise her?" Luke tried, and after a moment of hesitation Spencer nodded.

"You're missing time, aren't you?" Emily asked.

"It's coming in flashes."

"And you've been drugged?"

"Yeah, but I didn't take them myself." He whispered it, but it was the only thing he'd seemed certain of since they'd started the conversation. Emily rushed to reassure him.

"No, of course you didn't." She glanced at the men beside her, "We're thinking it might be Scratch."

The blank look shadowed his features again as he repeated the name. Luke's phone rang and he excused himself, returning a few minutes later with a photo of an older woman. Spencer stared at it for a moment before he nodded, confidently.

"Her alias is Rosa Medina, but her real name is Nadie Ramos." Luke explained, "Garcia tracked it to a motel just outside of town, does that sound familiar?"

"No."

"We'll need to take the officers with us," Emily said, seemingly determined.

"You want company here?" Rossi said gently, and Spencer seemed to need a minute to process what his words meant before responding with a no.

Still, he was hesitant as he spoke, and Lydia watched him for a moment before she said, "I'll stay."

Her non-confined co-workers gave her a questioning look— after all, she didn't tend to volunteer herself for anything where Spencer was involved, but she could tell he needed a familiar face and she'd probably be the most useless out on the field in Mexico. Emily looked slightly relieved as she nodded, though, as if leaving him on his own was not something she wanted to do.

Spencer's brows where furrowed, still struggling to sort through the fog in his brain. The three of them left with the promise of calling her if there was any updates, and for a moment she watched her old friend as he stood in one of the most broken states she'd ever seen him. 

"It must be scary for you," She spoke finally, gathering his attention, giving sufficient enough pause for him to cognitively catch up with what she was saying, "Not remembering things— it would be for anyone, but you even more so."

He swallowed, blinking, then nodded. His eyes were scanning over her— she could tell he knew who she was, just not exactly why she was standing there, "Lydia?"

"It's me," She assured, "Emily, Rossi and Luke just left. I'm going to stay with you till they're back, okay?"

"Yeah," He responded, and his voice was so small, "I-I don't know why..."

"That's okay," She said, "It's just the drugs in your system, I'm sure it'll come back to you with time. Do you want to sit down?"

He nodded, and she expected him to go back to the bench, but instead he took up the floor right by the bars. So she followed, sitting so that she was facing him. It was quiet for a while, maybe half an hour, then he began whispering, "I can't remember, I can't remember, I can't remember."

He repeated it over and over, and she could see the anxiety starting to take hold of him, breaths coming in faster and shorter. She knew she could try to distract him, but his brain had always worked a million times faster and strayed in ten different directions even if he hyper focused on one thing. Still, with the drugs in his system, it was worth a shot. "Spencer, talk me through what you do remember."

He looked confused, "I can't remember anything—"

"Not just about what happened in the last few days," She explained, "Like, for example, you remembered Emily, Rossi, Luke and me."

He nodded, brows still furrowed. "What do you remember about them? Start with Emily."

He thought for a moment, "Emily is the BAU unit chief," he started, "I met her when she joined the team... ten years ago... she specialises in child advocacy, terrorism and... linguistics... she watches... we watch Russian movies together at least once a month."

He looked to her as if wanting confirmation he was corrected, and she nodded reassuringly, "Good. What about Rossi?"

Spencer listed off what he could recall about the older man, then followed it with Luke. After each one, Lydia gave her assurance, and with each nod of her head he seemed to relax slightly. She had not entirely thought through her plan when the realisation dawned on her that he'd have to talk about her next. Still, this wasn't the time to focus on the weight such a topic would normally bring. This wasn't about her, or them. It was about him.

"Okay," She said, pushing aside the knots in her stomach, "What about me?"

She almost didn't want to know what he was going to say, but there was also a part of her, an overwhelming part, that was curious. He seemed to take longer to answer this time, "You're a special agent for the BAU. You started... a year after I did..." He paused to think, and she expected him to list off a couple of her credentials and maybe a vague shared memory with the team, but he surprised her, "On your first case, I took my FBI vest off and you threatened to kick my ass if I did it again."

Her eyebrows shot up, "I-I did." She offered her confirmation again, but he wasn't finished like she thought he was. He continued, "I liked that you never used to cut me off when I went on a tangent. You didn't make fun of me for not understanding a joke. Morgan called us the babies of the BAU, and when Emily was gone you volunteered to watch Russian movies with me even though you didn't speak the language." He looked at her— really looked at her, like for a moment even the drugs couldn't distort his certainty, "We were bestfriends."

Were. Were. Were. She swallowed, nodded, "See," She said finally, "There are things you remember, it'll just take time for the newer ones to come back to you."

He murmured quietly, "Thank you."

Lydia's phone rang before she could speak again, Emily's name flashing on the screen. She got to her feet and took a couple paces before answering, "Hello?"

Emily merely offered her a greeting before she got to the point, "We found Nadie's body at the motel, she was murdered."

"Shit," She muttered, trying to keep her voice down, "Shit. Emily, how bad is this?"

"Honestly?" She responded, "It's not good. This is... it's going to take a lot to clear him of this."

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach— prison was a rough place for anyone to be, but Spencer needed mental stimulation in abundances that just wouldn't be available to him in there. It could quite literally drive him insane— time would stand still for him, and he'd be left alone with nothing but his brain working overtime. "What do we do now?"

Emily exhaled, "We're coming back to you guys soon, I'm hoping he's lucid enough for a cognitive. How's he doing?"

She glanced back to see his head against the wall, eyes closed, but he wasn't breathing heavily enough to be asleep. He must be exhausted, though, and hoped he'd managed to get a-few minutes in before they started questioning him again. "He's doing okay, considering. A little panicked earlier, but he could talk me through some older memories that aren't related to the last few days. I didn't want to overwhelm him by trying to ask about all of this until he's come down a little more." 

"Okay, that's good," She could hear the slight relief in her voice, "We won't be long, should be back in about an hour. There's just a few things to sort through here."

"Alright, thanks Emily. See you soon." Lydia hung up, pocketing her phone and glancing back to where Spencer sat. He was staring into space, but he didn't seem as anxious as before, so she made the decision to wait till the others got back to break the news. She had always been more optimistic in nature, but it was a struggle to see any way out of this. Not wanting to disturb him just yet, she took her phone back out and dialled JJ's number.

"Angel, please tell me sweet boy wonder is okay." Garcia's voice came over the line, and she could vaguely hear JJ making a comment about her taking the phone.

"I'm with him now, he's–" she could hear someone in the background say put her on speaker, "--doing okay. I think he's starting to come down from the drugs, but still a little spaced out. Has Emily called you?"

"About Ramos? Yeah, she told us." JJ spoke, "It's..."

"Bad." Lydia supplied with a sigh, "But we all know whatever is going on, someone else is responsible. There will be a way to prove that."

"Exactly," She recognized Tara's voice, "We'll clear him, don't worry."

Lydia had a feeling her words were more aimed for Garcia, who she was sure was the epitome of worry.

"I should get back to him, I just wanted to make sure Emily updated you."

"Hey, wait!" JJ said, then her voice sounded closer as if she'd taken the phone off of the speaker. There was a brief pause and the sound of a door closing before she spoke again, "How do you really think he's doing? I know it's been a while since you... well, I just... You knew him better than any of us. Do you really think he's okay?"

Lydia tried to push aside the personal issues that attempted to taunt her— she hadn't had to confront anything surrounding her opinions of Spencer in a long time and she hadn't anticipated doing it under these circumstances. The worry for him, though, was no stranger to her. It had been a quiet, lingering ghost that had haunted her on every case she watched him go out onto the field since they stopped being friends. How she'd have to bite her tongue from saying "be careful."

"It's hard to say," She answered, "I've never seen him like this before, JJ. Even with Tobias, he still had his clarity. I think things are starting to come back to him, but I don't know how he's going to be with the knowledge that he lost time like this."

"God," JJ murmured, "This is all so screwed up."

"I know." She emphasised, "But he's more resilient than we credit him for, and he's got all of us to help him if he struggles."

"I'm glad you're there with him." She said after a pause, "It'll bring him more comfort than you know."

She didn't know how to respond to that. Didn't know what to do with how that made her feel. "Thanks, JJ. I should go."

"Lydia?" JJ sensed her attempt at dismissal.

She resisted the urge to pretend she didn't hear and hang up. "Yeah?"

"I mean it," She said certainly, "He misses you."

Lydia hoped she didn't hear her sharp intake of breath, "I'll call if there is an update."

She didn't wait for an answer before she hung up, giving herself a moment before she returned to where Spencer was sitting. He opened his eyes when she approached, and she gave him a small smile which he tiredly returned. It was silent until the rest returned.

[starkiller419]

Sanctuary & Desires - Pt 1.

pairing : Scott Barringer x F!OC Reader | wc : 4.2k | summary : Scott was sent to Horizon, and upon his arrival he met Madison, a fellow student who was chosen to show him the ropes. After a blissful night of passion shared between the two in the confines of the mountains, their lives would change forever.

warnings : 18+, implied smut, angsty, some violence (Scotty has a bit of a temper.), mentions of drugs and drugs use.

a/n : I have like 14k more words to this story but I didn't wanna go overboard on one post so I'll be making this a little series. Also there will probably be no smut because I'm in a smut writing drought rn, but it could change. Who knows 🤷‍♀️

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Birds chirping around the alpine place would have easily been enough for a normal teen to be eased, filled to the core with relaxation - yet, at Mount Horizon, it wasn't anything like that. For such incapacitated adolescents, only the sight of their most prohibited desires - or maybe the ability to forget - could have led a grin to their features.

Scott was one of them. Brought there against his will by the father and stepmother only a few hours prior, the boy's mind scattered everywhere in despair while Peter elucidated every rule about that hell of a prison. He didn't need to be an ascetic within the enclosure of the school's fences. Instead, Scott necessitated for that whore Elaine to be locked up. 

The troubled juvenile used his muffled vision to scan around the shared dorm he was assigned, eyes just as lifeless as reddened - perhaps because of the cocaine he managed to secretly sniff during the journey. Narcos was the only thing that managed to retain his brain from going insane to a complete extent.

"Understood? No sex, no violence, and most importantly no drugs." Peter firmly conveyed, his silhouette settled tall before Scott's. The teen lazed upon his allocated bed, posture disheveled and coarse. He only darted through the counselor's eyes, not erupting a word since there was nothing to say - except for insults, so it was better for his mouth to stay shut.

"I will take it as a yes. Make your bed first, then a student will be waiting outside to show you around. Just keep in mind, your dad choose Horizon over a juvie hall, the only alternative if you choose not to make it work here. It's up to you." Peter continued mere instants later, his tone being as calm yet explainable as possible. And then, Scott was left alone within the wooden walls of the empty dorm. His mind wherever his body chained in a school for freaks. He had no intention of continuing such odyssey whatsoever. Not one bit.

As Scott begrudgingly began to straighten out his rumpled sheets, he heard a soft knock on the door. With an exasperated sigh, he reluctantly made his way over and swung it open, his eyes falling upon the student who would supposedly be showing him around.

She was a young woman, her frame petite yet elegantly poised. Scott couldn't help but notice the mischievous glint in her eyes, making him hold his breath for a moment. He could already tell that she possessed a certain captivating charm.

"Hi," She greeted, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness. "You must be the new guy. Scott, right? I'm Madison, but everyone calls me Mads. I'm here to show you the ropes."

Scott remained silent for a moment, sizing her up with a skeptical gaze. "Yeah. Just lead the way. But don't expect me to be thrilled about any of this."

Mads gave a knowing smile, her eyes sparkling with a touch of defiance. "No worries. I'll make sure to keep it interesting for you. The first stop is the common hall. That's where we all gather during our free time."

Scott followed Mads as she led him towards the common hall, her every step exuding an effortless grace. He couldn't help but steal glances at her as they walked, the way her hips swayed subtly, her perfectly sculpted figure showcased by the contours of her clothing. It was hard to deny the allure emanating from her.

As they entered the common area, Scott's eyes darted around, taking in the lively atmosphere. Groups of students huddled together, engaged in animated conversations, or engrossed in various activities. Mads motioned towards a table where a few students were playing a card game.

"Feel free to join, Scott. It's a good way to get to know some of the other students," Mads suggested, her voice dripping with coy suggestion. "Or if card games aren't your thing, I'm sure we can find something else to occupy our time."

Scott's eyebrows arched in intrigue as he considered her proposition. He couldn't help but wonder what other activities Mads had in mind. He decided to play along, letting a smirk tug at the corners of his lips. "Well, Mads," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of teasing. "I'm always up for a challenge. Show me what you've got, and maybe we can find a way to pass the time together."

Madison led Scott through the halls of Mount Horizon, her steps slightly ahead of him, intentionally giving him a view of her enticing figure. She seemed to glide effortlessly, commanding attention as she walked.

As they passed by the chapel, Madison glanced over her shoulder, her gaze meeting Scott's eyes before flickering down to her own body. She subtly adjusted the hem of her skirt, drawing his attention to her toned legs and the tantalizing curve of her hips.

"Scott, have you ever been inside a chapel?" Mads asked, her voice carrying a soft, melodic tone.

Scott's eyes lingered on her figure for a moment before he tore his gaze away, attempting to play it cool. "No, can't say that I have. Why, do you want to pray for my soul?"

Mads chuckled, a playful glint in her eyes. "I'm not exactly the praying type. But the chapel has its hidden delights if you know where to look."

Intrigued, Scott followed her into the dimly lit chapel, its stained glass windows casting a colorful glow across the pews. They wandered towards the altar, where an intricately carved wooden screen separated the sacred space from the hidden alcove behind. Mads beckoned him closer, her voice a seductive whisper. "Care to see the secrets it holds?"

Scott's curiosity was piqued, and he stepped toward her, the allure of the unknown drawing him in. As they reached the screen, Mads leaned against it, running her fingers along the intricate carvings with tantalizing slowness. "Behind this screen," she murmured, "is a small chamber, known only to a select few. It's a place where secrets are shared, and desires are explored."

Scott's heart raced, the electrifying atmosphere between them charging the air. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. "You've certainly caught my attention. Lead the way."

With a flourish, Mads pushed open the screen, revealing a hidden chamber bathed in soft candlelight. The room was adorned with plush cushions and velvet drapes, an atmosphere of intimacy and secrecy.

She motioned for Scott to join her inside, her eyes filled with an invitation he couldn't refuse. "Welcome to our little slice of heaven, Scott."

Scott, still fairly high on cocaine, felt euphoric. He knew it was partially due to the drugs in his system, but he couldn’t help but feel an innate connection to the woman before him. She walked ahead of him and kneeled down on a soft cushion. She smiled at him sweetly and he felt himself moving to her before he could comprehend what was happening

Scott's steps were almost automatic as if his body was being guided by some invisible force, drawn towards the alluring sight of Madison on the cushion. The drugs coursing through his veins heightened his senses, making every movement, every subtle hint of her body, feel intensified and electrifying.

As Scott neared Mads, he couldn't help but notice the way her skirt clung to her curves, the delicate dark lace of her underwear peeking through. The sight sent a wave of desire coursing through him, his mind clouded with both the effects of the cocaine and the growing hunger that burned within him.

Mads reached out a hand, her touch featherlight against Scott's arm, pulling him closer. "Come, here."

A primal instinct took over Scott's consciousness, overpowering any lingering doubts or hesitations. He sank down onto the cushion beside Mads, his gaze locked with hers, the air heavy with an undeniable tension. His fingers trembled slightly as they brushed against the soft fabric of her skirt, the desire to explore her body becoming overwhelming.

Without any hesitation, Scott leaned in, his lips hovering dangerously close to Madison's, his breath mingling with hers. "You're driving me wild. I need to taste you."

Madison's eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and desire. Her fingers traced a tantalizing path up Scott's arm, sending shivers down his spine. And with that, the boundaries shattered, and Scott succumbed to the irresistible pull of his desires, surrendering himself to the enchanting temptations of the hidden chamber and the captivating allure of Madison, his senses consumed by the heady blend of pleasure and excitement.

Their lips collided in a fiery, desperate kiss, fueled by a heady mix of desire and intoxication. Scott's mind swirled with an intensifying haze of sensations, his body responding instinctively to the touch of Madison's hands roaming across his form.

As Mads traced his hands along her body, Scott's fingertips trailed along the delicate curve of her waist, feeling the softness of her skin beneath his touch. The taste of her lips, the warmth of her breath, sent a surge of heat coursing through his veins. A surge of confidence surged within him, emboldening him to deepen the kiss, hungry to explore the depths of her passion.

His movements became more urgent as if guided by some fervent need. Scott's hands threaded through her hair, gently tugging at the strands as he deepened the kiss, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth. Their tongues danced together in a passionate rhythm, each movement igniting sparks of desire.

Madison's fingers gripped Scott's hair, their kiss growing even more desperate as their bodies pressed against each other. The intoxication of their connection heightened the sensations as if they were both intoxicated by the intensity of their desires.

With a surge of exhilaration, Scott gently pushed Mads down onto the cushion, hovering above her, his body yearning for her touch. Their eyes locked, a shared understanding passing between them, as the boundaries of their surroundings faded away.

The room was filled with the symphony of their moans and gasps, mingling with the soft music played by the crackling candles. The scent of anticipation filled the air, as their bodies entwined and gave in to the aching hunger that consumed them.

And in that moment, they drowned in each other, lost in the depths of pleasure and frenzy. The world outside ceased to exist as Scott and Mads became enveloped in the intoxicating symphony of their desires, their connection undeniably raw and primal.

In that hidden chamber, they danced a delicate dance of passion and indulgence, leaving behind the rules and restrictions of Mount Horizon, embracing the forbidden, and finding solace in their carnal desires.

After their intoxicating encounter in the confines of the chapel, the two made their way back to their respective dorms. Scott had joined Madison's group, the Cliffhangers, and over the next few days, they had gone on hikes and adventures, exploring the Pacific Northwestern wilderness. The two had managed to steal forbidden kisses and embraces whenever they could, but the confines of the reformatory school had restricted them from embracing each other fully as they did in the chapel.

The memory of what had happened between them lingered within Scott like an indelible mark on his soul. All of his traumas and frustrations had disappeared in her arms. She made him feel safe, and loved, even with a simple glance in his direction.

However, he couldn't shake the feeling of possessiveness and jealousy that gnawed at him. It was during a group activity that he noticed the lingering glances exchanged between her and another student, Ryan. Ryan's adoring gaze directed towards her ignited a flicker of rage within Scott, setting the stage for a brewing storm of emotions.

Unable to contain his jealousy any longer, Scott sought out Ryan, their heated confrontation escalating into an argument fueled by possessiveness and territorial claims. The air crackled with tension as harsh words were exchanged, both parties refusing to back down.

"Stay away from her man. She doesn't want you." Scott's voice crackled with an uncharacteristic vulnerability, his anger laced with echoes of desperation.

Ryan scoffed, a wicked smirk twisting his lips. "Why should I? She's a free spirit, Scott. She can make her own choices."

The confrontation reached its peak, an explosion of pent-up emotions that left Scott breathless and consumed by regret. He and Ryan had engaged in a physical fight over the girl, which resulted in both of them cooped up in Peter's office to receive a talking-to.

"Why was there an altercation between you two?" Peter asked while he sat across from the two young men, sitting at his desk. Scott rolled his eyes and turned his head to the side, avoiding the question. Ryan however felt the need to speak up.

"Scotty here thinks he has some sort of claim over Madison." Peter's eyes widened at this as he focused his attention on Scott.

"What does he mean by that Scott?" Scott lifted his head to face Peter, and he was sure his emotions and conflicts were showing on his face. 

"I don't know what he's talking about," Scott said as he refused to admit their encounter to the two before him. 

"I think you do Scott. You may be reckless and abashed, but you don't seem like the type of kid to hurt someone for no reason, whatever that reason may be." Peter spoke calmly as his eyes burned into Scotts'. 

"Maybe he deserved it," Scott muttered. Ryan scoffed and Scott's head whipped in his direction, 

"Oh yeah? For what? Fucking your little girlfriend?" Scott saw red as he lunged towards Ryan, the two of them fell from the chair as Scott's fists pummeled into Ryan.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled as he pulled Scott from the boy beneath him, who just lay there laughing at Scott's attempted assault. Peter brought Scott near the entrance of his office and spoke to him in a low tone, so Ryan could not hear. 

"Look, I can see you care about her, don't think I haven't noticed the way you look at her during group. I know you may think you're ready for something like this Scott, but you're not. You have too much to figure out for yourself, too much to understand about you and your past before you can be involved that way with another person. Besides, relationships between students is forbidden here. If that were the case, I would have no choice but to silence the two of you." Peter's expression was caring and understanding as he spoke to Scott, who felt his heart burst at Peter's words. 

"What do you mean silence us?" He asked quietly, 

"We would monitor the two of you and restrict contact with each other. One of you would be removed from the Cliffhangers and placed in a different group." Peter explained to Scott and he felt overly consumed by anger. 

"That's bullshit! Why would you do that to someone? That's not healing anybody, that's fucking torture!" He exclaimed and Peter placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down. 

"I never said that's what's happening. As of right now, I have no reason to suspect the two of you have nothing more than a simple crush, and if it stays like that and nothing more ensues, you have nothing to worry about," too late for that Scott thought to himself, "As for now, you and Ryan will be placed on firewood together for the remainder of the week. Take it as an opportunity to overcome your short bearings." 

Scott scoffed before he turned and stormed away, his heart throbbing with conflicting emotions.

The next day Scott sauntered into the mess hall for breakfast, spotting Madison and Kat sitting together at a table eating cereal. She glanced up at him and smiled brightly, causing his heart to flip and flop around. He wanted to smile back, and more than anything he wished he could run to her and wrap her in his arms, kissing all over her body as he once did.

But after what Peter had said he knew he had to distance himself. He wouldn't want to not be able to speak to her or see her because he couldn't hide his emotions from everyone surrounding him. So instead of smiling back, or even acknowledging her, he turned and walked away from her eyesight and left the hall altogether.

One day turned to many, a bittersweet silence between Scott and Mads ensuing. Passing glances were filled with a mix of longing and frustration. The longing in Scott's eyes remained unmistakable, a silent plea for understanding and a chance at redemption. He hated himself for giving her the cold shoulder. He was more than sure that he loved this girl. He had never felt this way for anyone before. And the fact that he was cold as ice to her was torturous for him, even if it was just to reduce Peter's suspicions.

Then after weeks of torture, on a stormy night, rain poured down upon Mount Horizon with relentless intensity, mimicking the chaotic storm that raged within Scott's heart. The sound of rain against the windows echoed his turmoil, urging him to confront his true feelings. Drenched to the bone, Scott found himself unable to resist the magnetic pull drawing him towards her. Determined and resolute, he fought against the raging tempest that threatened to push him away, his heart pounding in his chest.

In front of Madison's dormitory, raindrops slid down his face, as if his tears had mingled with the rain. His breath came in uneven gasps, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions. With trembling hands, he knocked on her door, waiting with bated breath for it to open. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw Scott, his face streaked with raindrops and streaks of vulnerability. The intensity in his gaze took her breath away. Her heart quickened as she stepped outside into the rain, her voice barely above a whisper. "Scott, what are you doing here?"

His voice cracked with an impassioned rawness as he spoke with unfiltered honesty. "I can't pretend anymore. The thought of you with someone else tears me apart. These past weeks without you have been unbearable. Not being able to show you how much I care for you has been torturous. I want you. Not just for now, but forever. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine."

Raindrops blended with silent tears as they cascaded down Madison's face. Her vulnerability mirrored in her eyes as she stood before him, caught between her own fears and the love that had slowly but surely blossomed within her. Her voice trembled as she met his gaze, her words laden with emotion. "Scott… I've felt the same way, but I was scared to admit it. It's not just infatuation, it's something deeper. Something I can't deny any longer."

In that moment, every worry, every doubt, every unspoken fear was washed away by the rain, leaving only the profound connection between them. Their hearts beat in sync, a testament to the intense love that had blossomed between them.

As the rain continued to pour, they sought solace in each other's arms, a blissful embrace borne from desire, heartache, and a deep understanding of one another. This stormy night became the turning point in their story--the night they let go of their fears and chose to embark on a journey that would forever change their lives.

And amidst the rain-soaked chaos, Scott and Mads found solace, connection, and love that burned brighter than any storm. As the rain continued to pour, a newfound resolve enveloped Scott and Mads, intertwining their hearts and fueling their hunger for freedom. Their lips met in a deep and passionate kiss, sealing their agreement, their love, and their desire for a life beyond the confines of Mount Horizon.

Breaking away from the kiss, Scott looked into her eyes, a mixture of determination and excitement shining within. "Let's run away. Let's escape this place and create a world where it's just you and me, where we can be free."

Her breath caught in her throat, in a mere matter of weeks and hidden moments, the boy who stood before her had managed to cascade his way into her very soul. Her response was swift and unwavering. "Okay. I want to escape with you. I want to leave this place behind and create our own path."

The two snuck from her dorms, hiding away in an empty storage shed as the rain continued to pound outside. They engaged in searing moments of desire and anticipation for what was to come, the life they would be able to live together. The two spent the night planning their daring escape, their hearts pounding with fear and excitement. Their plan was to wait until the clock struck midnight the following night, taking advantage of the cover of darkness and the exhaustion that often accompanied the late hours.

As the time drew near, their excitement grew. Scott stealthily collected the necessary supplies while Mads gathered any valuable information about the school and its security measures. They meticulously planned their route, leaving no room for error.

Finally, the moment arrived. As the rest of the school slumbered, Scott and Madison slipped out of their dormitories, their hearts pounding with a mix of fear and exhilaration. Their steps were cautious, ensuring they remained undetected as they made their way toward the school's perimeter.

Aided by their knowledge of the campus, they skillfully navigated through the pathways, using the cover of darkness to their advantage. Their pulses quickened as they neared the fence that symbolized the boundary between captivity and freedom.

Scott's fingers trembled as he fumbled with the fence, silently urging it to give way and grant them their long-awaited liberation. With a sigh of relief, the fence yielded, providing them with an opening just wide enough for their escape.

Hand in hand, hearts racing, they emerged into the wilderness beyond, their spirits soaring as they breathed in the air of newfound freedom. At that moment, they truly believed they had conquered Mount Horizon.

The night swallowed them whole as they pressed on, their senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through their veins. With each step, the darkness of the night seemed to be a metaphorical embrace, wrapping their youthful rebellion in its protective cloak. They walked hand-in-hand for hours, stopping occasionally to exchange in a passionate embrace.

They embarked on an uncertain journey, captivated by the thrill of the unknown and the intoxicating allure of their shared escape. Their destination was not predetermined, their path guided by the whims of the moon and the whispers of their hearts.

As their escape unfolded, their bond only grew stronger. They relied on each other for support, their love becoming a lifeline amidst the unpredictable currents of their adventure. They discovered hidden coves, and secret hideaways, and shared countless stolen kisses under moonlit skies.

However as Scott and Madison ventured deeper into the wilderness, they soon realized that their escape was not without obstacles. The harsh realities of survival gnawed at their romanticized notions, testing their determination and resourcefulness.

They faced treacherous terrains, their clothes becoming tattered and dirty as they trudged through thick mud and dense undergrowth. Hunger gnawed at their bellies, prompting them to forage for food in the unforgiving wilderness. They relied on their wits and burgeoning survival skills, scavenging for berries and edible plants, and sometimes even daringly venturing into small towns to acquire necessary provisions.

Their escapades sparked a sense of adventure within them, reinforcing their bond as they clung to each other for support and comfort. Each hardship only served to strengthen their resolve, their love serving as a beacon of hope in the darkest of times.

In the midst of their journey, they stumbled upon a hidden waterfall, its cascading waters shimmering under the sun's gentle rays. It became a sanctuary, a place where they could wash away their struggles and bask in the purity of their love. They embraced amidst the gentle spray and let the waterfall's serenade drown out the echoes of their past.

As they continued their arduous exploration, they came across a humble cabin nestled amidst a grove of ancient oaks. It seemed untouched by the modern world, a forgotten refuge beckoning them towards its welcoming embrace. Seeing it as a sign, they decided to make it their sanctuary, their home away from home.

The cabin was worn and weathered, but livable nonetheless. They transformed the cabin into a haven, a place where their dreams could intertwine with reality. They adorned the walls with Polaroid captures of their journey, creating a tapestry of memories that whispered stories of a life lived on their own terms.

On one of their few trips to the neighboring small town, Madison had purchased a secondhand sewing machine and tailored the two new outfits, bedding, and towels. They restored the cabin together, spending their days in the blistering Oregon sun creating a home for themselves.

The two learned more and more about each other with each day that had passed. No one from Horizon or from their past had come to look for them, and they didn't care.

[zalrb]

did you like chronicles of narnia? i don't think I've ever seen you talking about it and i would love to hear your thoughts on the movies and/or the books if you have anything to say

hmm, yeah, i don't think i've ever spoken about the chronicles of narnia, i liked it a lot as a kid but it never really stayed with me as an adult probably because without getting into the blatant religious overtones, it really is quite heavy-handed and very much for children although i did write a paper in high school basically saying that while i was a fan of harry potter, the books just treaded on a lot of what narnia and lotr already did hahaha. some notes my teacher had about my premise, which is interesting

the first thing i ABSOLUTELY need to say about narnia is that as a kid, i read the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe many times. i read it at home (there was this actually this one audio book that me and dad listened to when that i really loved because of one line when lucy takes them to the wardrobe and it's still just a wardrobe and peter in the most sarcastic voice goes, "what a surprise" and i BURST out laughing particularly since i don't think that's even in the book??) then we read it in my grade 3 class and one day my teacher brought in turkish delight and i was freaking the fuck out because i always wanted to know what was SO good about turkish delight that edmund would sell out his entire fucking family, i was like i need to know what this tastes like. my teacher, miss k, took out this really pretty red tin and i was excited AS FUCK. then i tasted it. i don't think i have ever been more disappointed in my entire fucking life. i HATED it, i hated the texture, i hated the taste, i was furious. and i remember talking to my teacher because she was like you have to understand that they're growing up during the war and things like candy were a luxury and i was like fine but for THIS candy? no. absolutely not. no. nope. NOPE. flashforward to about three days ago, i'm scrolling through IG and there's this one reel where this woman was like, ok we need to discuss edmund and turkish delight again because i know we ate it and were like this is a mediocre treat (for me i actually almost threw up when i took a bite so a bit worse than mediocre) and she reread the passage where he eats it and c.s. lewis describes it as basically once you eat it, you just want to eat more so the woman in the reel was like edmund basically gave up his family for the kiddie version of cocaine so we should be more lenient and i was like LMAO fair.

so, for the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe i remember thinking the movie was pretty much exactly how i pictured the book. except for the white witch that's not how i pictured her but i was like, that's absolutely edmund and lucy and susan and peter, that is great casting and i particularly liked when mr. tumnus gets lucy to sleep because i thought the movie really elevated that part of the book and really leaned into the eeriness and creepiness of it. aslan's death was also very stressful for me.

OKAY. prince caspian. i haven't seen prince caspian since i saw it in theatres so i'm only going on what i remember from the movie, which is that i didn't like it, i didn't like the peter vs. caspian (ugh demon eyes) thing because that's not what happens in the book if i remember correctly and it seemed unnecessary and it made me uncomfortable because susan and caspian were having their little thing whatever that was and peter felt like his authority was threatened and it oddly felt like a weird love triangle because susan was caught in the middle and i was like i don't like any of this, please keep it. and i didn't like it so much that i didn't bother watching voyage of the dawn treader.

i really liked the magician's nephew, which is probably the most overlooked book of the series even though it starts it, i was obsessed with the wood between worlds as a kid, i just loved the way it was described

kind of like how i was obsessed with the ents in high school, lmao, i just harp on things sometimes, out of all of them, i actually think it's the most magical book.

[vivianbernadetteaurora]

It’s just the mixture of mess it all on its own in many different forms and many different ways. Let’s start from the top.

Guess I have to say that picture at the top is pretty disgusting for Pete and Kate to do together because it’s Myra Henley and Ian Huntley the two notorious child killers I don’t know why they used to would want to dress up in that way now I’ve done many pictures on Kate and P Pete, Katie and Peter Jordan and Peter Andre anyway I’ve done loads of pictures of them together, stories that leaked on these two and the pictures of cocaine were leaked by the man where his party took place where a man died. I watched his documentary earlier. It wasn’t very gripping but this woman’s son died at a house party where Pete Docherty went to which was supposed to be his dealer/Pete performance now Pete Doherty was one of the messiest drug addict I’ve ever seen in my life,

Addict and I can be pretty messy but the way he can’t even speak I watched star stories and the way they were making fun of him was kind of like that was pretty rude but he spoke himself down with drugs. He could’ve gone oxygen university., what you need to remember with people like this and including Lily Allen as they went to private schools they were all publicly educated in that way so , who did the same pretended he was white trash but it was really not poor but I got rich boy once , you know what I think he preferred the grime of the normal life I’m not gonna say I was like a I was brought up on a council estate, cause I wasn’t , but I certainly didn’t have loads of money either, boys seem to like the edging of this. He was involved in that and I believe and this man falling to his death and the investigation still hasn’t been open.

Macaulay Culkin should never have been left home alone, because what happened, I know he believes in a band a boy now let’s face it that’s the face of her class of drugs back when, healthy now, but he’s definitely had his troubles, about these people is I don’t admit it even when you can tell this out they haven’t, but that’s the nature of the attic. We do lie about these things.

Kate Moss being a Scorpio moon, she seem to love these bad boys first of all Johnny Depp who I don’t need to say has done many bad things and this time with women, others, then she goes Pete Doherty a few decades later, the stories that were being leaked were from the man who were the house party happened where the, see a lot of these addicts when someone is OD they just chuck them out the house like they nobody fucking disgusting. I’ve been in this situation and did not do that and I wouldn’t do that. wouldn’t do that because it goes against my ethics and boundaries . when you saw the picture of where Kate stole her brand that was that man who ran that party . He took a picture of her and without her knowledge.

Many years ago when Lily Allen left music, she said it was because she got married and had kids well that might not be exactly the case actually according to Azealia Banks and enty -lawyer, Because she is so heavily addicted to drugs cocaine whatever she had had a hard time with it all of us and you’ve gotta remember that celebrities downplay their addictions are heck of a lot because they have their image to keep good but we know we’re not stupid and then she came back. This is a thing that I saw a blind item from 2021.,  about Gallagher brothers getting back together, it said don’t be fooled these two brothers still don’t like each other but they need the money. I tried to leave it.  parents feared that she’d be the next Amy Winehouse., were different backgrounds but they were that early to mid 2000 the scene , in a book she called narcissistic and cold, who hung around with all the Brit pop, bands, so she thought she could be hedonistic like them and learn her lessons but then she was like no I’m a woman woman I can’t get away with this, sad that women can’t get away the same thing as, same goes from my favourite Courtney Love.

 Brittany Murphy this one breaks my heart it was a December in 2009 when we heard the news around Christmas that Brittany Murphy had died we didn’t know what the call was, and then eirely, husband died approximately 18 months later he got with her mother after she died, but you need to remember the 2000 this was our, was our movie girl kind of like we’re known wider and Angelina Jolie but in a different way, was able to pay many roles her last role was Sin City, after she died?, but her death is extremely suspicious. Is very alarming. They say drugs then they say it, then there is another theory that Britney Spears, lived in that house , had very bad energy when she saw a psychic. and then it got sold to Brittany Murphy. rest in peace for baby you didn’t deserve to go. She knows a lot of weight her husband then became her make-up artist than PA and , the control was out of control , and the control of her mother , remember Brittany is a Scorpio moon too and a Scorpio sun sign.

This last ones are a bit different from the others, Courtney Stodden, poor girl with sexualised by her mother, turned her into a sex object for men, and basically tried to sell her to the highest bit almost like yachting, so she ends up marrying the evil man from green mile, basically a paedophile but yet she got all the scrutiny from, who told her to take a dirt nap . Extremely sad even went on Dr Drew to prove that her boobs were real the screw , who is married to a little paedophile who married Nevada because he couldn’t marry her in LA , dressed like a stripper she was a piece of meat for disgusting men I hope she is doing better now because she does deserve better. She doesn’t need to dress like that and I don’t think she does so much anymore anymore but she felt so loyal to Doug because he groomed her. He groomed the whole family, mother even seemed to have his love thing with him, before with mums who are sickly obsessed with the partner that face in this day and age with blind items being as big as they are people aren’t taking your celebrities shit , yes J Lo meet we meet you and you Blake Lively . 

[imnothingimnobody]

M-B-M (3 Angles to a Pyramid)

We were having a good time in the breakroom. The three of us were seated and talking, and laughing. It had been hot outside that day. For 8 hours I traded, sold, stole, ran bets and ran tabs for the various flea market people. We brought back $2100 that day, after we each got paid $120 plus the money I assume the other two stole (200-300) and the money I stole every time (50). Being back, being in air conditioning, had restored our spirits...which had become quite low as we realized the inventory vs. money count wasn't making sense.

The job entailed unloading unsold merchandise and storing it. We usually took this break before that just to cool off. From March to November every weekend we'd sell this stupid shit for love or money. Our boss was a cocaine addict and a truly destructive gambler. I'd hand him thousands of dollars, he'd pass out at Greektown. His wife wanted some of the money though now, and he was feeling pressure. I gave him the envelope of money that day, and he leafed through it and said nothing. I also did books, their primitive accounting which was pointless because the inventory was never valuated properly. There was no consistent spread of anything. Hundreds of the items were one offs anyway. The other two were basically legitimized thugs he'd known from always. If they wanted to talk seriously about money they talked to me. Then out of nowhere we're laughing and he walks in. "You guys doing good? Feeling comfortable?" "Yeah. We're about to put all that shit away." "So we were talking," and by we he meant he and his wife, and he said calmly, "we're wondering why there's zero to negative growth in our receipts." Collectively we looked around and down and everywhere. He took that moment to slam the door he'd walked in from. "Where's the fucking money?!" he yelled, "What, now no one knows what I'm fucking talking about?" "Look, you are supposed to be top fucking earners. That's why I don't look over your shoulders. So stop fucking around, go out there, talk to your people, break some fucking heads and get some fucking earnings out there."

I went to talk, "The..." "And don't say a word about the fucking economy, not a word! I don't want to hear it. And you," he said, pointing to his most trusted and loyal employee, my coworker. "And you, what happened with the guy? The Arab guy? The thing we were supposed to do." "I don't know," he said. "It kind of petered out." "It petered out" boss said mockingly. "I don't know, the guy fuckin moved or something. I ain't seen him." He pointed at me, "You, you're the brains of this, Microsoft Excel. Where's the money? I'm sending you with top shelf shit. It's not on the pallets you brought back. So again, I ask you, what the fuck?" "I don't know," I said. He exhaled and looked at us and spoke in a low, quiet tone now. "Look. The shit has worked the same way, since time immemorial, it's a pyramid. Shit runs downhill, money runs up. That's the fuckin way it works. And I shouldn't have to come to you, hat in hand like this, because what you're kicking up to me is a FUCKIN DISGRACE." "Do you know what it takes to run this place? Do you know how much that costs?" he said. I wanted to say I did know but instead I said "I hear you" for some reason. "And it's on the fucking verge of closing, and I have to come and beg you to kick up, and frankly I'm just embarrassed and ashamed. That's it," he said sorrowfully, opened the door and left. It came to pass the next day. The other two went and collected. I kicked everything up and they kicked more up than normal. $3400 I handed him selling the garbage that hadn't sold before. I told the other two, "doesn't this make us look worse....if you think about it?" "What do you mean?" "I mean he knows what we brought back, what we're taking today, and how we should be kicking up less on a Sunday than a Saturday. So when we hand him the money, he'll again see it doesn't make sense. He smiled, "No. I gave half that shit away to collect. We'll just keep going week to week that way until he shuts the fuck up again. It's like a, a, what do you call it scheme."

"Pyramid scheme. You're using todays money to pay yesterday's creditors." "Yeah, whatever you say."

[abeltownshipslittlebitch]

Maxine: Bring coke to the party.

Sam: *brings coca cola*

Five: *brings Pepsi*

Peter: *brings cocaine*

@dorkylittleweirdo

[steele-soulmate]

Tattooed Wings, CHAPTER 34, Peter Steele & OFC, Soulmate AU

SUMMARY: Mary Claire Bradley meets her soulmate- literally- the famous Peter Steele of metal group Type O Negative. But will obstacles including trauma, stalkers, and toxic family members get in the way of their life?

WARNING: mentions of child rape (nothing graphic) PTSD, milk kink, soft smut, grinding, assault

WORDS: 1781

My rumbling stomach woke me up early the next morning. I laid there on Peter’s chest for a moment before carefully untangling his arms from around me and getting up out of bed. I leaned over and kissed him before leaving the tent in search of some food.

I returned twenty minutes later with a platter of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, a party sized bag of Doritos, and red apples. When I stepped into the tent again, Peter was still asleep. I giggled before seating myself on the floor and beginning to eat as I played my guitar.

 “This is the story of a girl, who had her body broken,” I sang to myself as I quietly strummed. A sudden grunt from my soulmate made me pause and turn to see him waking up. He sat up and frantically looked around for something, tears running down his face.

 “Peter?” I asked softly, setting my guitar aside and crawling up to the bed, where he scooped me into his arms and just held me.

 “Don’t ever leave me,” he begged, burying his face into my neck. “Please, sweetheart- don’t leave me.”

 My heart broke into millions of shattered shards at the pure raw need in his voice.

 “Peter…” I dragged him off the bed and into my lap, where I just held him. “Shh, shh, shh now… don’t cry, it’s alright… I’ll never leave you…”

 “Don’t leave me,” he whimpered, leaving a very wet kiss on my neck. “Don’t leave me.”

 “Peter.” I pulled away and made him look me in the eyes- emerald met sapphire. “I’m not going anywhere. Fate chose us for each other, and I’d rather die than abandon you.” I smiled gently at him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his eye before cupping the side of his face in my hand. “I love you.”

 “One of my ex-girlfriends got me hooked on cocaine,” he confessed. “She used that shit as leverage to make me not leave her. Six years… I was with her for six years until my heart stopped beating for four minutes. When I woke up…” he turned his head and held up the hair at his ear, showing me my mermaid tattoo tucked away behind his ear. “That’s when I finally had the strength to dump her and clean up my life. I checked myself into rehab, I took up little hobbies as a way to distract myself from the withdrawal pains… but most importantly of all-” He kissed me deeply, his hand on the back of my neck. “But most importantly of all, I dreamed about you, Mary Claire Bradley. I dreamed about what you would look like, what your voice sounded like, what your hobbies were, what your family is like… just- you. all of you.”

 “And did I meet your expectations?” I whispered, nuzzling into his chest.

 “No, sweetheart,” he cooed, rubbing my back. “You exceeded them.”

 Little girl then decided to practice her solo for Swan Lake as she began kicking and twirling around in my stomach. I gasped and brought my hands to my belly, where my soulmate followed mere moments later, his tearful face sprouting a joyful smile.

 “Another ex-girlfriend of mine had sex with three of my friends behind my back,” he scowled. “I got drunk and went to her apartment, where I tried to kill her boyfriend. I honestly thought she was the one for me. We were together for more than ten years when I proposed to her only to find out she had been cheating on me.”

 I leaned my forehead against his and closed my eyes. As much as I didn’t want to hear about his past girlfriends, I let him rant, knowing that he wanted to be vulnerable with me.

 He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and showed his wrist. I couldn’t help the gasp that sounded as I took his arm in mine and gently traced the scars with my fingers.

 “I tried to kill myself,” he confessed. “October 15th, 1989.”

 “I wasn’t even born then,” I murmured, tears prickling at my eyes. “I was born on September 4th, 1992.”

 “Fuck,” Peter swore, wrapping his arms around me and squishing me to his chest. “I almost didn’t meet you. I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

 “I love you, Peter,” I murmured, pulling away when my stomach complained of hunger once more. “Shut up, you- I’m having a sensitive moment with my soulmate. I’ll feed you in a bit!”

 “Are you hungry?” he asked me. “What do you want to eat?”

 I pointed to the lunch that I had made and watched as he leaned over to grab a sandwich and an apple. To my surprise, he handed them to me before getting food for himself.

 “I love you,” he cooed at me, kissing me before tearing a bite out of his peanut butter and jelly.

 “I love you too,” I hummed, taking a dainty bite out of my lunch.

 The two of us sat there of the floor of the tent eating lunch in comfortable silence, Peter watching me strum the strings of my guitar as I came up with silly little songs.

 “Sweetheart?” I looked up at Peter, who was munching on an apple. “Do you happen to have paper and a pencil I can use?”

 I stood, setting my guitar next to him as I dug around under my bed before coming up with a blank notebook and gel ink pen, which I handed to him.

 “You can keep the notebook, I have oodles of them just laying around,” I shrugged.

 He took one look at the notebook before giving me an Oscar award worthy stink eye glare. “Seriously?”

 “What?” I bit my lip to stop the laughter as he held up the pink notebook.

 “PINK?” he scoffed. “Sweetheart, why do you enjoy torturing me so?”

 “Because it’s fun!” I taunted him. “Now do you want the notebook or not?” He silently opened the notebook and began to write away, not sparing me a glance as I poured a tankard of water for myself, refilling the cup and offering it to him. He accepted and downed the cup in two gulps before giving it back to me.

 “I don’t really care for the color pink, either,” I told my soulmate as I took out my violin. “My favorite color is blue, Jackie is fond of purple and Sammi adores pink. When we were younger and shared a bedroom, the three of us each had our own wall that we painted our color- mine was a pretty turquoise, Jackie’s was a deep, dark lavender and Sammi’s was an obnoxious hot pink.” I laughed at the memory of the three of us at Home Depot, picking our room colors. “The three of us shared that color loud bedroom until we were about ten years old.”

 “Oh?” I looked up and saw that Peter had stopped writing and was giving me his full, undivided attention.

 “Yeah,” I giggled as I looked away. “Mom and dad would dress the three of us to match when we were babies- Adam, he’s the eldest of my seven brothers, he would be a little turd and play ‘switch the triplets and try to see who can guess who is who’. He would get into so much trouble just for that. What else is terrifying is that the three of us were absolutely identical for the first four years of life. Same hair color and everything.”

 “Wow.” My soulmate seemed to have forgotten his hatred for the color pink as he leaned forward to finger at my cheek.

 “Yeah,” I sighed, leaning into his hand more. “The three of us started to sneak different outfits with us to school when we were in the third grade. Mom and daddy weren’t any the wiser until our school photos came in. Mom was not at all happy, but she seemed to finally realize that the three of us sisters weren’t the same person, that we girls had to spread our wings and discover our own unique selves.”

 “I love how different the three of you are,” he murmured as I began to play a little tune. “And wow… you’re good at playing the violin.”

 “Gramercy,” I said, bowing my head as I continued to play. “I’ve been known to fiddle around with it.”

 He barked out a loud laugh at my little quip, shaking his head at me.

 “Sweetheart, can I borrow your guitar?” he asked me, grinning at my nod. “Thank you!”

 “What are you doing?” I asked.

 “Writing new music,” he muttered. “Fuck, I’m thinking of writing you a solo piece.”

 “Violin, guitar, voice, or piano?” I asked, blinking at the shocked look on his face. “What? Why the face?”

 “Sweetheart, is there anything you can’t do?” he chuckled.

 “I can’t do math or do science,” I shrugged. “The only reason why I was even able to pass those subjects while I was being homeschooled was because of MythBusters. That was truly a great show!”

 He only let out a low hum, holding his arms open to let me know that he wanted a hug. I only giggled before walking over to him, falling to my knees so that I could wrap my arms around him.

 “I love you,” he hummed. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”

 “I love you,” I returned, kissing him.

 “Fuck, I can’t wait to call you mine,” he growled, dragging me onto his lap, his hands on my hips as he held me close to him.

 “Twelve and a half more weeks until little girl comes, and then I can be yours,” I murmured, kissing him once more.

 “Fuck,” he gasped. “I can’t wait.”

  TAGLISTS ARE OPEN/ ASK BOX IS OPEN/ REQUESTS ARE OPEN/ PLOT BUNNIES ARE WELCOMED

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PETER STEELE TAGLIST

@starchild0985​

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 10

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV. Mild smut in this chapter.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Tony fluff, Tony snark, Tony sass and Tony smut (finally!). My & reader's brain be like: tony tony tony tony. A request for my readers: do I write a believeable tony? Is he in character, more or less?

My beta @miscmarvelwritings - she's not into Tony but even then, she was finally excited about them finally getting down & dirty. The patience of this woman...

"Tony, could I borrow, like, a hoodie or something?"

He eyed my attire critically for a moment, seemingly coming to the same conclusion I did minutes earlier, and made a beeline for the couch in the back of the lab. Picking up and examining a black mass of fabric, deeming it satisfactory, he tossed it to me. "It's clean enough, I guess."

The thin straps of my mesh top rubbed against a lot of tender skin, leaving pink lines in the wake of it. A sigh of relief escaped me involuntarily when I removed it -

"Woah, woah," Tony squeaked, covering his eyes with an exaggerated gesture. "Warn a man!"

I honestly didn't see what the big deal was. "Tony, chill. I'm pretty sure you've seen it all and then some." I snorted, stretching briefly, shrugging on the slightly oversized hoodie. It smelled like the lab - like Tony, too, but mostly like motor oil and iron. Beggars can't be choosers, however - I had already devised and executed the plan that will let me keep the hoodie.

"When you put it that way..." He smirked, briefly returning to his usual self and giving me a salacious eyebrow wiggle.

I laughed in response, wiggling my hips, feeling the hem of my skirt swish against my thighs. I considered removing the fishnet tights, too, but a brief look in the reflective wall divide between Tony's and Bruce's labs got me pulling out my phone to take two dozen selfies. I looked great with Tony's clothes on.

The engineer chuckled at my antics, coming up behind me as I sat on the floor with my knee raised, chin resting on it. The amber liquid sloshed over the top of his glass, dripping down his fingers. He sat behind me.

"Weller Full Bourbon?" I asked, bringing my nose closer to his fingers to get a good whiff. The distinctive vanilla notes in his whiskey were unmistakable. "Good choice," I made a serious face. "Fancy."

"I can afford it, darling," He snarked back, devoid of malice.

He was so close. And so warm. And I needed a new screensaver. Shuffling back, I reclined against Tony's chest, carefully wedging my head in the crook of his neck.

God help me.

I felt his breath hitch. The dark, magnetic pools of his eyes stared at me from our combined reflection. Tony's eyes were the most expressive, he could fake a smile, he could charm the press and countless investors, but his eyes only spoke the truth. Always. I loved working with Tony because his gaze would light up. It was akin to seeing a little kid on Christmas.

A muscular arm snaked around my waist, pressing my back to his chest. The metal of his arc reactor jabbed uncomfortably between my shoulder blades but there was nowhere else I'd rather be.

"You're filming, Princess," He interrupted my Moment.

"Sure," I answered, not caring. There could be another alien invasion happening and I wasn't able to give a damn.

I felt the vibrant chuckle more than heard; Tony snatched the phone out of my hand without permission. I noticed the furrowed brow when he opened my Instagram and saw the unmistakable evidence of my frequent partying, yet he didn't comment on it.

"Tony, the press is going to go nuts," I raised my eyebrows, seeing what he was planning to do.

"They've seen me doing worse things," He scoffed. And took a photo of us ‘just chilling’ in his lab, hugging. He picked out a filter and everything., and then posted it.

"First of all, I am pretty awesome to be 'doing', I've had only good feedback," I scoffed at his dismissive attitude, using my free hand to make quote marks. Then I turned my head to stare him square in the face. "Steve's going to be pissed and Ms. Potts is going to call to yell at you." I punctuated the statements with a raised eyebrow.

There was really no innocent way the press could represent the photo that he posted. I didn't care for it, my parents wouldn't give a damn (my father probably would encourage it, the free publicity and all). Tony himself didn't seem like the kind of man to care much about some gossip articles, if anything, he enjoyed provoking them into a frenzy. Or at least, he used to.

"I'll put them both on hold. I like to watch the line blink," Tony winked, smirking. "I've been told the press expects me to have a midlife crisis since my last breakup," Eyes darkening, the man swiftly finished off his drink.

Midlife crisis seemed such a bitter way of putting it. Considering my own preferences in romantic partners, I couldn't help but feel offended at the way people offhandedly dished out labels - "midlife crisis", "daddy issues" and so on and so forth. The briefest part of me traveled back to Mr. Davies' living room where - no, I am not going there.

"Huh," I said, coming to a conclusion. A sad one at that.

"Don't take this the wrong way, Princess, but you don't seem like the kind of girl who thinks about pesky things like reputation or consequences," Tony mused idly, coming to a conclusion of his own.

"Nope, I don't give a fuck," I agreed with his opinion wholeheartedly. "If I would have a publicist, they would quit on the second day."

"I pay mine, uh, twice the average amount and they still quit. We're doomed, baby," Tony's gleeful face was mere inches away from my own, whiskey-tipsy and glowing.

I snorted, sliding lower to further burrow into his arms. Tony's sudden touchy-feely mode wasn't lost on me. My own touch starvation overrode any common sense that I had left. The totally-PG (well, not quite) embrace, one armed hug brought me more satisfaction than any of my sexual partners had ever achieved to give me.

"Why are there so many messages from Banner? Are you staging a world domination plan and forgot to include me? I'm hurt!" Tony exclaimed suddenly, a whiny tone to his voice.

"Thor's space yeasts have corrupted our minds with their spores. Soon all will become... Mushroom!" I deepened my voice for the dramatic effect, flailing my arms on the last word for the extra flair.

The man wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye; his eyes were sparkling, laughing even. "I'm evicting Thor and his supremely selfish yeast. How dare it ignore me."

"I vouched for you, I really did," I kept up the silly game. "But alas, the yeasts deemed you too... Boomer," The pride in my voice could barely hold back the laughter threatening to spill.

"Did you just..?" Tony gaped. "Did you just call me old?!"

I attempted to get away, shrieking when the tips of Tony's fingers squirmed along my midsection. "It was the yeast! IT WAS THE YEAST!" My resistance proved to be futile. The engineer had mass and strength on his side, years of piloting and maneuvering the Iron Man suits showing just how quick and nimble he could be when the situation demanded it.

"Take that from an old man!" He exclaimed triumphantly, using his arm to hold down both of my hands from grasping at him. One of his legs held down my own; we were a squirming, writhing mass of limbs in the heat of a tickle fight.

The cocaine in my blood, the mild buzz from being drunk on Tony - my body reacted to the close proximity of the man who occupied my fantasies. I was blushing, breathing heavily, and it wasn't just from the exertion. It should have affected me less, but I struggled to keep my eyes from Tony's face; his own flush, the moist part of his lips.

I wondered how a deer in the headlights felt. Was it hot, like it's body was suddenly alight, or was it cold, liquid nitrogen freezing in its veins?

"Fuck," I mumbled half-coherently.

"What was that?" He arched an eyebrow, clever eyes carefully watching my own.

"I'm in trouble," I chuckled weakly, looking away, pretending to struggle against his arms.

"You're trouble," He announced, grinning. His fingertips slowed, skimming gently along my sides now.

I retaliated with a tentative brush of my foot along the softness of his jean-covered inner thigh. It was euphoric, seeing Tony shudder, the thick eyelashes fluttering for the briefest part of a second.

"We should stop," He whispered suddenly, making a move to disentangle us both. Mixed signals, we've got em, ladies and gentlemen.

"Why?" I was tired of this dance. It was fun but painful. My firm decision of the past still stood: I won't be the lovesick fangirl, I won't be another notch in his bedpost. The resolve was crumbling but it was still there, to some point.

"You're not sober, this is wrong," He mumbled. "I'm more than twice your age, Princess."

That ship had sailed, Tony. If only you knew... "Do you seriously expect me, out of all people, to find common ground with someone my age? Someone like Peter? Jeez," I tried to be amused. If it came out more pleading, I pretended to not notice it. It was the moment of truth. It needed to be said. "I'm FUBAR, Tony. I'm lucky if anyone at all will want to put up with me, much less someone I can stand. I'm spoiled, I'm selfish, and annoying. I know that. I just thought we were friends and you'd be...kinder about it." My mumbling was met with a somewhat perplexed stare.

"I..." His eyebrows threatened to have a close encounter with his hairline. "What the fuck? Are you dead set on giving me a stroke today? I have a heart condition," He yanked me back towards his chest, unceremonious and indignant. "You can be so smart yet so stupid. Gosh, where is the world rolling, I'm quoting Pepper now." He seemed to be muttering to himself.

"Pot, kettle." I didn't resist the urge to snark.

"Right," Tony rolled his eyes. "You're beautiful and all that jazz. You deserve much more than this." Uncharacteristically sad, he pointed to himself, again. "I'm an old man with more issues than Playboy magazine."

"And I'm an angsty teenager with daddy issues, we're a match made in heaven."

"Hell," Tony was eyeing our combined reflection with a sort of petulance. It was hard keeping track of his microexpressions; his eyes and face held fleeting, half-finished thoughts, just like when he was creating, inventing something new.

"Works for me. Lucifer's hot," I answered with my brain on autopilot. He caught my eyes in the shiny glass, trapping me in his calculative gaze.

"The Netflix one or the Supernatural one?" Tony asked, equally absent from the conversation. Neither of us were able to break eye contact, breathing laboured and hearts thudding in our chests. I felt Tony's pulse fluttering under my palm where I'd rested it on his wrist.

The organ that dutifully pumped blood through my own veins and kept me alive threatened to escape my body, jump out of my chest, make its way out my mouth. Tony's unblinking stare penetrated my skin, seeped into the hollow behind my eyelids, ignited a flame within me and froze my thoughts.

"The one with the detective kink," I answered breathily. "I have an affinity for brown-eyed, narcissistic, sarcastic men with self-destructive tendencies," The last part of my sentence was swallowed by Tony's lips.

My brain shorted out, just like that. Bourbon on his breath and a new dose of snark on his tongue, he licked into my mouth with the grace and finesse of years of experience. It was sudden, it was rough, it was fantastic. His beard left marks on my face and I craved the burn of it.

"Fuck," I moaned when we were forced to surface for oxygen. My hips had moved, pressed against his own, prominent arousal digging into the small of my back. Tony had me moaning and grinding into it in mere seconds.

A hand rested on my face with surprising tenderness, turning my face to look at my own reflection. My hair was a mess, lips puffy - Tony wasn't looking any better, hunger and lust in plain view. It was a good look on him.

"Watch," His breath ghosted over the shell of my ear, lips traveling to the nape of my neck to attach themselves to the very sensitive flesh of that area.

I obeyed, gazing at the scene with lidded eyes. Keeping them open was a struggle. My body was flooded with sensation, riding the waves of pleasure like a rollercoaster. I wanted to please him, needed to obey him, to feel him.

My thighs quivered at Tony's touch. There was no warning, no preamble as he wedged a firm hand, separating them quickly to follow the heat. His biceps flexed deliciously. Under my skirt, through the fishnets and the tiny, lacy panties I wore.

"Fucking shit," The man moaned loudly, finding me, predictably, soaking wet. It was one hot, sticky mess between my legs.

The keen that left my mouth might've been embarrassing, yet it only spurred Tony on. Gently parting my lower lips, he gathered the moisture, suddenly withdrawing from me. My confusion met his amusement in the mirror as he stuck the two fingers in his mouth, moaning obscenely and loudly at the taste.

The corners of my mouth lifted, happy. "To-ony," I whined, my pussy aching for more. Now that I had felt the relief and pleasure of his touch, I didn't want it to end.

"Princess," He replied, seriously and sternly. I shuddered at the scratchiness of his voice. The hand that I was missing returned, stroking over the outside of my pussy with broad, soft motions. I arched, presented myself into the touch. "So eager," Tony mumbled into my shoulder, catching a bit of my skin between his teeth.

His fingers dipped deeper, delving in between the puffy, engorged flesh and stroking once, twice, before finding my clit. The pads of Tony's fingers were rough, hardened by manual work and hours spent in front of his inventions, making, tinkering, creating. The friction was perfect. I followed each stroke with a fluid motion of my hips.

"Tony, fuck," I slurred my approval, needing him to know how amazing he made me feel. Tony's form pressed closer, both of us melting, molding into each other.

"Baby girl, what do you need?" His raspy voice tickled my neck. I was sure there would be an array of marks decorating me come morning and absolutely loved the thought. I belonged to Tony Stark, in body and heart and mind and soul.

"I want to cum," I had no shame left. "I want to feel you."

He groaned, rutting into me. A squeak was all I managed to emit as two thick fingers plunged inside of me with a wet squelch. My pussy immediately took hold of the situation, squeezing and rippling around them. I was so close, my nerves pulled up taut like an overtaxed string. The effect this man had on me was positively unholy.

My clit throbbed under his thumb. Tony somehow managed to reach every single sweet spot on my body, effortlessly, easily, like he'd done it a thousand times.

"Ohmyfuckinggod, Tony," I came hard, shuddering, drenching the fingers inside of me. The moment I began sagging in his arms was the moment they tightened around me; I felt Tony grind helplessly against me, saw his own eyes slam shut and his brow furrow.

The hand that was in me withdrew rapidly as he hastily popped the button on his pants, freeing his cock and giving it several desperate tugs. I couldn't see it; I had to settle for the sensation of his hand, his hips rubbing against my clothed back.

He came quickly, with a loud shout. My curiosity got the best of me and I used the brief moment of his weakness to turn around, take a good look at him.

Tony was a fucking mess with a fucking gorgeous cock. Thick and veiny.

My face was level with it before he could have opened his eyes. I wanted, craved to know how he tasted. With gentle kitten licks, I collected the stray drops of cum running down his hand, careful of the rapidly softening, sensitive flesh.

His eyes popped open in surprise. I smiled at him, unseeing, collecting as much of him as I could.

"Fuck, Princess," He breathed. "I'm just a man, I'm pushing fifty," Gently pulling my head away but holding it mere inches from his cock. Indecisive.

I reached over for his hand with my own, popping finger after finger in my mouth, collecting every drop of cum like it was nectar. I could be good...I If properly motivated. The salty musk was all the motivation I needed at that moment. He pulled me in for a filthy, sloppy kiss once I was done, both of us humming, vocalising the shared pleasure.

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As always, feedback is welcome and this blog is keyboard smash & emoji friendly.

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Illicit affairs -Chapter 1

summary: harry osborn is a flirt and justin hammer is a jackass. y/n tells peter that he is an idiot, again. & black cat wants to know what night are they talking about. 

Listen to: Maniac -Conan Grey & my tears ricochet - Taylor Swift

word count: 7.5k

(author’s note at the end now)

series masterlist

(the gif is so funny out of context but like literally)

You’d never been to the OSCORP tower before. You had met Norman and Harry when you still lived in Malibu and they lived in Silicon Valley, they had attended a couple of galas that had become mandatory for you to go in order represent the Stark’s family name but other than that, there hadn’t been much interaction. 

Especially since Tony and Norman never got along; they had run in the same circle since the ’90s and they had vastly different ideas on what was important. For one, Tony loved what he did and he was passionate about any advancement he could make, but Norman was downright miserable with a sickly ambition. Moreover, he dived into extreme genetic projects that could be dangerous if mixed with business, so as soon as Norman suggested something to Tony and he shut him down, leaving a bitter taste on Norman’s mouth.

You wove your way through the reception that was daunting with a set of intricate security, more than what you had actually expected. Now you knew what Tony had meant with Norman being paranoid. You passed the multiple security stations and smiled when no machine or security guard noticed the mass amount of energy you were carrying on your necklace, where your suit was contained. You had been working for months when you first got to Europe so you could carry it undetected, it had failed a couple of times and so, it had forced you to work out even harder, in case you couldn’t use your suit. 

You finished passing through the security detail and manage to made your way to the receptionist, who seemed to be rather annoyed with the sheer amount of calls he was receiving.  

“Hi, sorry to bother you”, you smiled, looking down at him but he didn’t even raise his head, you stopped talking but then he motioned his hand for you to continue. “Okay…I’m here to see Mr. Osborn, we have an appointment”

“Your name?”, the receptionist asked, still not looking at you which made your eye twitch in annoyance. 

“Y/N Stark”, you answered, the receptionist snorted, and then he raised his head. He went pale when he realized it was you, you smiled in return as he pulled off his headset and smiled at you. 

“Mr. Osborn has been waiting for you”, he said as he quickly motioned a security guard to come to the desk and placed his headset on his head again. “Also, there’s this guy over there who said he was with you”, he mentioned as he pointed at Peter who was passing through the last security detail. 

Peter rushed to get next to you, he had been swinging through the city and you could tell by how his curls were messier than how they usually got if he was running. You couldn’t help but to smile at his face at his state, his brows were knitted in a frown as he tried to catch his breath, the way his nose wrinkled made you want to shed a tear or two, you remembered how it usually made your heart burst whenever he did that. 

“I’m so sorry, I had class and…”, Peter mumbled but he stopped again to breathe.

You knew that Peter didn’t want to come to Oscorp, it had been years since he had gotten bitten by that radioactive spider on a class trip but you were more than sure that it still triggered something in him. You had assured him that you could go alone, but being as stubborn as he was, he said he would go with you. 

“Peter, don’t worry”, you said sweetly as you place your hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “It’s okay”

Peter froze at your touch and you felt the tension on his muscles so you quickly took your hand off his shoulder. It all felt rather nostalgic to both of you, the way you trusted each other, how you knew you had each other’s back and understood. But this wasn’t like before and you knew it couldn’t be. 

You cleared your throat and turned around to the security guard, signaling to him that you were ready to go see Mr. Osborn. 

The small walk to the elevator was rather awkward as disjointed, not knowing who would go first and where to follow. Soon, you were surrounded by two other security guards when you reached the top floor where you were supposed to have the meeting. 

Fury had been the one to call Norman, thinking that he wouldn’t take it seriously if you or Peter had made the call. Norman, aside from being paranoid, was a real asshole and everyone knew it, his employees lived in constant fear about any of his outbursts but they decided to stay because of his work with genetics, which was unique. You rolled your eyes at the thought of him, you remembered the disdain on his light green eyes when you had said ‘hi’ in one of the galas a couple of years ago. 

Knowing this, it didn’t surprise you that when the elevator opened to a floor with one corridor surrounded by glass windows with different machines and people working inside before you could even step out, the glasses began to get foggy and soon they turned white, blocking the view of whatever they were doing inside. 

Completely paranoid, you thought as you walked out of the elevator. 

The security guard guided you to the end of the hallway to a large office and then opened the door. You were expecting to find a much older fragile guy with an unhinged look on his face, that’s how you imagined Norman would look but instead, you found Harry. 

You remember being younger and having a crush on Harry for about a week when you still lived in Malibu, he was cute when he was younger but now, he was hot. 

His almond eyes always looked good with his chiseled cheekbones and jaw, his smile was worth a thousand dollars, and his dark short hair framed his face perfectly. He had this bad boy look to him and you wondered how many girls and boys had fallen for him, you had heard a lot about Harry since you were put in the same group by the media: The prodigies’ heirs. You knew he was meant to carry the Osborn legacy like you were in charge of the Stark’s legacy but you also knew he liked to party and drink a little bit more than he should. 

“Y/N!”, he said as he smirked at you, offering his hands and you took it, smiling softly at him before he placed a kiss over it. 

“Nice to see you, H”, you answered as you tried your best not to blush. 

Peter stayed behind you, rolling his eyes at the interaction as he saw how the guards quickly closed the door when Peter turned around. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while, I was hoping you could go with me to a few galas but I heard you were traveling”, Harry continued as he offered one of the seats in front of his large desks, you whispered a small thank you as you sat down and then Harry sat in front of you with a large grin. 

You turned around for a second to see Peter placing the glasses that Tony had given him for the mission, they were to be shared by the two of you but you had discussed yesterday over the phone that he should be the one wearing them since you had to handle Osborn. 

Plus, Peter knew how to managed them better and the program E.D.I.T.H, you watch him scanning the room with his eyes and knew this was your turn to shine. 

“Yeah, I needed to leave New York for a while”, you explained to him as you fixed your black blazer and the white blouse that you decided to wear that day.

Harry snickered at you, while he pointed at you with one finger as he waved his hand. 

“You got in trouble, didn’t you?”, Harry asked with a gleam of malice on his eyes as he let out a little laugh of satisfaction. “Perfect y/n Stark in trouble”

You shuddered at the nickname, it brought you back the memories in Malibu as more information from you got out and it became a staple every time paparazzi caught you on the street and printed it on the magazine covers. You couldn’t help but feel your heart squeezing momentarily on your chest. 

But then you gazed back at Harry, the delight in his eyes made you frustrated, he was enjoying himself, like the fact that you had messed up placed you on the same level as him. Sometimes you wondered if he even remembered that you were an avenger too, that you couldn’t disclose missions or that maybe he was playing dumb to get something out.

But you weren’t dumb or playing his games. 

 “You know us, trust fund kids”, you leered as you play with your hair, “We have our daddies to bail us out”, You smiled coyly as Harry chuckled -more to himself than anything-. 

Peter felt sick as he heard you, rolling his eyes to the back of his skull. He knew you were acting, the way your voice was higher than usual, and how you were playing with a strand of your hair as you smiled demurely at Harry. But he couldn’t help but hate it, it wasn’t you.

“Come on Stark”, Harry continued, intrigued by what you had said, “DUI? Cocaine? Sex in the wrong place?”, he asked. “Been there, done that. It’s not that bad, why did you leave?”

You smirked while you shook your head, negating to answer. 

“Oh, Harry, what would your dad say about that?”, you pointed out. 

Harry licked his lips with a grin, although he looked another way, his eyes a bit gloomy as he recalled his couple of indiscretions. 

You knew Harry didn’t have a good relationship with his father, he was the complete opposite for Norman and he was known for being an absent father. Harry grew up with nannies since her mother left and returned to Shanghai, Norman got full custody. The only thing Norman cared about when it came to Harry, was that he was almost as intelligent as him and should be the next one in charge of Oscorp. 

“He wouldn’t care as long as I was here working in the morning”, he finally said. 

You felt bad for Harry, you placed your hand over his in solidarity, not meaning anything more and Harry smiled sincerely back at you. 

 But then Peter cleared his throat. 

“Can we know what Black Cat stole? We have another meeting”, he asked as he frowned at your interaction with him, his lips in a tight line as he removed the glasses for a moment. 

Harry rolled his eyes as he stood up, he hadn’t even acknowledged Peter and he didn’t care to do so. 

“Come with me”, he muttered as he stood up and opened the door of the office and you followed him swiftly as you glared at Peter for the interruption while he simply shrugged. 

You followed Harry through the main hallway where you had walked and then quickly turned to the left, commenting about the updates his father had ordered to be more… private with their different projects. 

“Your dad updated the security system after the attack of Black Cat?”, you asked as you finally reached a rather smaller lab compared to the rest. 

Harry nodded over his shoulder to you before he reached the door, where a little camera appeared out of the blue while the wall opened to reveal more intricate security equipment. 

“So, your dad didn’t already have all of this before Black Cat attacked?”, Peter asked Harry as he quickly placed his E.D.I.T.H glasses. 

You smirked as you saw Peter’s eyes moving quickly, guessing he was reading all the information that had been given to him by the AI. 

“The eye recognition is new, he installed it two days ago when he knew that you were coming”, Harry mentioned as a red line scanned his eye.

Peter and you gazed at each other in astonishment, which Harry noticed right away thanks to the silence. 

“My dad doesn’t like your dad, he just wants to be safe”, he muttered as he placed a combination in the little pad with numbers over it. 

“Your dad clearly knows how to hold a grudge”, you answered as you rolled your eyes. 

Harry turned around with a grin, “Don’t mention it”, he said as he finally placed his hand on a little pad under the numbers. 

He then took a step back and after a few seconds, the door finally opened. 

It was a rather dark room, just about two people were working on the lab right at the moment, and with the deemed lights, you could only see the green glow in the different small tests tubes and stronger sources of lights coming from the various terrariums and tanks that held different animals: blue coral snakes, cone snails, pufferfish, among others. 

You felt a shiver ran down your spine as you saw how one of the workers carefully took one of the blue corals' snakes and began extracting its venom, the snake recoiled and was more aggressive than anything, it seemed like the worker was having issues with it but soon, she took a hold of the snakes tail and forced it into the machine with big needles that were in charge of extracting the venom, you could hear the hisses of pain. You turned around, feeling like you couldn’t see any more, only to find small containers, near the edge of the room and rather down where dead animals in the canister. 

You felt like you could throw up, but you turned around to see Peter, whose gaze was glued to the little test tubes. 

Peter could feel the weight on his shoulders as he recalled the bite of the spider on the nape of his neck, the stinging and the horrible sensation that followed, he was sure he was going to die because of the pain but soon, it went away faster than he expected. 

Only to find the next morning that everything had changed. 

You could tell that Peter was struggling, but you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable like you had done earlier in the lobby. Nonetheless, the instinctive movement came alone, you offered your hand to him while Harry was not looking as he discussed something with the workers at the other end of the room.

Peter’s eyes followed your hand and he took it in a second, without even giving it much thought. His eyes connected to yours and you could feel the warmth in his smile, his eyes staring at you contemplatively as he tightened his hold on your hand while you tried to ignore how his gaze still set your pulse of fire, it annoyed you how after all this time, you still felt like that when he looked at you. 

“Sorry for the delay”, you both heard, causing your heads to whip to where Harry was. 

You quickly let go of Peter’s hand as he managed to choke a whimper as he felt your warm hand leaving, your touch in any way always made him feel grounded and it had been a while since.

Harry stood in front of you with a little test tube with fluorescent green liquid, while you came closer to him, removing your blazer and tying it to your hips. You tried to reach for it but Harry quickly took a step back as he shook his head. 

“You have to wear gloves, this is rather an unusual substance”, he explained while you huffed.

“What does it do?”

“This baby is a mix of the best neuromuscular blocking agents we could find in nature”, Harry said as he shook it a bit. “They cause a rather faster and more heavy muscles relaxation by binding to the acetylcholine receptors postsynaptically”

Peter walked to your side, as he analyzed the substance with the help of E.D.I.T.H and he didn’t like what she was telling him. 

“It blocks neuromuscular transmissions at what pace?”, Peter asked while looking a bit distressed.

Harry huffed as he started to recall, you felt a little bit anxious as you waited for Harry’s answer. Because if you were thinking correctly, Norman was playing with dangerous things. 

“It’s faster than anectine”, Harry muttered as he gave the little test tube back to one of the workers. 

“But anectine has an onset effect of three minutes”, you replied quickly while you walked towards the back of the room, following the worker who placed it in a refrigerating closet with hundreds of it. 

“Exactly”, Harry said behind you. “This new substance can take less than ten seconds if you put it through IV and one minute through another medium”

“But why?”, Peter asked. 

“This is much stronger, you know that FDA approved drugs that do the same thing are less heavy but if we get this right, it can change everything”, Harry explained as you turned around with a glare. 

“This can become a weapon, H”, you growled while Harry simply rolled his eyes.  

You quickly walked out of the room, Harry and Peter looked at each other for a second but then followed you swiftly outside. Peter giving another look at the lab so E.D.I.T.H could finalize its review before the door finally closed sealed. 

“It can save lives, imagine if you have an accident or are injured in a place that’s farther away from any hospital or any type of medical care. If you need to have an emergency surgical process, but they don’t have even the simplest drugs to put you out at the exact moment, it decreases your chances of survival. You are screwed if you have first aid kits and you can find a way to make the tools needed for surgery but there’s nothing that can replace this”, Harry explained as you glared at him in the hallway. 

“You can kill them, if they don’t have mechanical ventilation aid, they die”, you snapped at him as you passed a hand through your hair but then you saw Harry’s smirk. “What?”

“You don’t need mechanical ventilation with that”, he explained with gleaming eyes and a wide smile. “It’s brilliant!”

But you remained silent as you process the repercussions of what he was saying, but before you could say anything Peter spoke. 

“But that means, that the person’s still conscious and able to breathe on their own”, Peter muttered as Harry and you stared at him. “You are basically trapped on your own body”

Harry’s smile faded rather quickly at Peter’s words, his excitement was gone as he processed what Peter was saying and even doubt could be perceived on his factions. 

“Please, tell me that at least that wears off quickly as well”, you asked Harry with your eyes closed. 

Harry’s answer still haunted you as you drove back to New York, you decided it was best to take your car than to fly with Peter hanging to you by a threat. It wasn’t a long flight from Staten Island to Washington Heights, but you had decided to not wear your suit too often and somehow you felt like you needed to process all that information. Black Cat was working with Kingpin, who was clearly in the mood for selling dangerous weapons to any kinds of people, this could have rather a short term and long term repercussions, if you were correct this stuff could be used by the burglar next door who would simply paralyze anyone on their way and even kill them or even grand stake villains such as Hydra soldiers or Scorpio. 

Harry had assured you that they were still looking for an antidote and that it was going to come rather quickly, but your anxiety wasn’t slowing down at any moment. Peter could feel it too, you had asked him if he wanted a ride and he was happy that you had even offered it, considering that he thought that you would make him swing all the way to Washington Heights, but he wasn’t sure how much good it would make if you didn’t talk. The ride was long, and none of you broke the silence. He wanted to assure you that it would be okay, that you would catch the bad guys as you always did but, deep down, he understood how dangerous it could be. 

Nonetheless, with the recollection that E.D.I.T.H had made, it seemed like with your help and Bruce, he could find out a rather faster antidote than what Harry had promised back at Oscorp and, although he still had to analyze the venom and its effects on his body, he was sure his body would metabolize fast enough to do any harm. 

“We are here”, you muttered as Peter took off quickly the glasses that were trying to decode some of the Oscorp data about the venom, so it could expand its information. 

“I’ve never met Justin Hammer”, Peter explained. “I was that day at the Stark Expo and I can clearly remember how one of the Iron man suits was in front of me and I swore I had blasted it with my toy, but… Tony was the one that did it”

You smiled as you turned around at Peter’s story, you remember how he always told it at dinner time and how much Tony loved it too. 

But you also recalled how nervous you were for your father and Pepper, how he had disappeared for a couple of days as he fixed his arc reactor, and how you had been ushered out of the Expo, Happy driving you and Nat to where Vanko was. You still couldn’t believe how Hammer hadn’t lost his company after that, or even how he had gone to jail for just a year and a half before he was let out on parole. 

He was an asshole back then and it seemed he was an asshole still. 

“Well, well, well”, Hammer chuckled to himself as he received you in the lobby, still on a grey way to tight suit with wanna-be-Tony glasses “Who do we have here? Lovely to see you, little Stark”

Your eye twitched at the nickname, as you offered your hand in response. 

“Can’t say the same thing”, you muttered while Peter walked next to you. “Peter, Hammer and Hammer, Peter”, you quickly said uninterested in having any more of a small interaction with him. 

But Hammer was Hammer. 

“Didn’t know you could drag your boyfriend to official meetings, it’s not very professional of the avengers”, he teased with a large grin as he shook Peter’s hand while his eyes were still were glued to you. 

Peter could feel how his cheeks began to blush, stammering to deny the relationship while your nostrils flared and you crossed your arms across your chest. 

“He is my father’s intern that helps not only to advance Stark’s Industries largest projects, which is at its best”, you said arrogantly. “He also helps the avengers, I think you wouldn’t know since not many want to work with you!”, a slight conceited smile grew on your lips. 

Peter felt like he wanted to hide from the poison on your words but he also felt extremely fascinated but this new phase of you. Maybe while you were in Europe, you found yourself more and an actual voice. Maybe, after your fight, you weren’t taking anybody’s shit. 

He was somehow glad and in awe. 

“Oh spicy!”, Hammer shouted as he gave a playful nudge to you and his bodyguards behind him, giggling to himself while you simply rolled your eyes. “Love that for you, follow me”

The ride to one of the top floors wasn’t exactly long, but it felt like an eternity since Hammer couldn’t stop talking about what he was doing at the moment, how successful he was, how jail had been a wake-up call to him and had changed him to the core. He kept talking about how he had been given motivational talks all over Europe, and that had been sold out, but you doubted. You doubted all of this. You zone out, as you tried to isolate yourself from his non-stopping chattering.  

And then, he showed you the little marble size neutralizers. 

“Does this really work?”, you said as you played with the small device in your hands, you quickly tapped your earpiece and silently asked H.A.P.P.Y to study it, as the sleeve of your suit began to appear out of nowhere. 

You could feel Hammer’s eye twitching as he saw the technology you had, but he quickly changed his demure while he muttered, “Same sense of humor as your father”. 

Peter interrupted Hammer’s glued gaze to your suit as H.A.P.P.Y, your AI, analyzed it. 

“But do they?”, Peter asked as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as Hammer turned around. 

“What?”

“Work?”, Peter asked once more as you finished your scan and gave it to Peter, so he could examine it on his own. 

But Hammer quickly snatched it from your hand as he began to play with it, his lack of seriousness caused you to feel irritable. 

“No, these little suckers don’t. She took the wrong batch and couldn’t snatch the real ones”, he said smugly, as he then threw the marble to a trashcan close to you, he failed and the marble began to roll on the floor. “But these over there…”

Peter barely burst into laughs and so did you, until your eyes gaze to the back of the enormous white lab where a line of production was still moving, towards where Hammer was pointing. 

“Where are those?”, you asked as you walked towards them. 

“Well, these are the ones”, Hammer said as he ran behind you and Peter did the same. “These can knock out the entire Empire State building energy system”

“That means…”

“There’s a real possibility that she might be back”, Peter suggested wide-eyed as the line of marbles continued. 

“I guess so”, Hammer shrugged as he continued to watch the little neutralizers being made. 

You stayed silent as you gazed at Peter and he nodded. 

“I need to know how did she entered last time, the exact time, and see if we can install better security cameras”, you ordered the bodyguards and the assistant of Hammer that were behind him, all of them nodded without question, leaving Hammer looking rather confused on how you could command his employees. 

“Why do you need all that, little Stark?”, Hammer asked as he placed his hand behind the nape of his neck, clearly not getting any of it. 

“We are going to be patrolling tonight”, you said as you raised an eyebrow mischievously towards Peter who smiled back at you. 

It took about three calls to have a SHIELD team on Hammer Industries, installing better cameras and for the security body to start explaining to both you and Peter how Black Cat had entered and the possible weakest points on the building, but it seemed like the rooftop was always the weakest point since the windows right below it were the ones Black Cat had used to get inside. You called Tony to let him know your plan, while Peter went back to Queens to leave some stuff from university and he wanted to still leave E.D.I.T.H in a safe place, so he had to go through Stark Tower as well. Either way, he needed “to go” so Spiderman could come back to work with you.  

Around 9:00 pm or so, you heard Peter’s characteristic thiwp!  

You turned around as he landed behind you on the rooftop of the building, he had a different suit than the last one you had seen him with. This new model was black and red, a longshot from the blue and red or the iron-spider suit that you had seen him with before you left New York. 

“Nice of you to show up”, you said with a slight smile while Peter walked towards you. 

“Why aren’t you wearing your suit yet?”, Peter asked, standing next to you. 

Your body urged to lean against him, as you usually did but you forced yourself not to do it. He was taller than before, you had always been the same height but now he seemed to pass you by a couple of inches, you shuddered at the memory of him holding you against a wall but you shook your head, walking away from Peter. 

“I wore that suit for far too long when I was away, I like to wear it now when I really need it”, you explained to him, walking around looking at your feet. 

Peter nodded as he trailed behind you, “It was too much work?”, he asked slowly. 

“A lot more than what I was used to”, you admitted as you faced Peter with a smile. “But it was worth it, either way”

Peter was being cautious, he didn’t want to scare you since you had actually had a nice day together without any issues, he felt like with time both of you would simply gravitate together like you had before everything got so messed up. He liked to think that the pain would go away, that you wouldn’t hurt each other anymore, but that was foolish and disrespectful to you. 

To think that you could forgive him without even saying sorry, to think that he would simply go back to how you were without him knowing what happened that day. And although he knew that you maybe didn’t want to talk about it, he knew that if he didn’t try to fix it, then he would regret it forever. 

“Y/N, we should talk”

You froze as you heard Peter’s words and you decided that flying at that exact moment, away from the rooftop, away from him; would be a great idea. 

The feeling of not being enough, of feeling so stupid for not foreseeing what was going to happened seemed to overwhelm you. Those feelings that began as hurt turned into resent and anger, more than what you would like to admit. 

You’ve had a nice day, not that you were being too close like before by any means but you wished that he could just let it be. But you knew it was foolish and disrespectful to him not to give him a chance to talk, to understand what had happened that day. 

“What do you have to say?”

Peter raised his eyebrows, not that you could see it completely with his mask on but he was surprised that you had agreed on it. He quickly walked closer to you, his scent invading your space and you had to close your eyes as you tried not to be dazed by the smell of cinnamon and honey. 

“I mean, can you tell me what happened?”, Peter asked you and you literally felt your heart squeezing on your chest. 

Is he that oblivious? you thought to yourself.

“Weren’t you there?”

Peter rolled his eyes at your statement. 

“You know what I mean y/n”, he watched you as you raised your eyebrow. 

“No, I don’t,” you snarled, “You know exactly what happened, why do you want to play dumb?”, snapping at Peter’s stance, you knew him well enough to know that he should have a dumbfounded expression under the mask. 

“I’m not playing dumb, y/n!”  

“But you are!”, you snapped with your face pinched with your cheeks growing hot as each second passed. “Why you want to taunt me with this? Why do you feel the need to bring this up again?”

You could feel your chest getting heavier as each word left your mouth, the tears building up in your eyes as you watched Peter, narrowed eyes and harsh breaths began to feel the air once more. 

“Because we were best friends!”

“Well, what good did that do?”, you snarled at him and now you felt your tears falling from your eyes, and you hated it. You hated feeling like that, helpless. “Best friends know the other more than they know themselves, best friends tell each other what’s happening in their lives, best friends care about each other’s feelings, they don’t hurt the other as you hurt me!”

“How on earth did I hurt you, y/n?”, Peter snapped back at you, irritation growing on his chest, “Getting together with Gwen? Did you think that I would leave you behind? You never told me anything!”

You stayed silent for a moment, the image of Peter kissing Gwen repeated over and over again on your head. You remember the anger you felt against yourself, you remember how you hated being a coward, you hated it, and yet, here was Peter reminding you about it. 

“Your naiveté amazes me sometimes”, you scoffed as you got closer to him for a second, watching him with disdain. 

“Oh my god, would you just tell me?”, Peter sighed loudly, you were sure he was rolling his eyes as you wiped the tears away from your face, “You are acting extremely…”

“Come on, go ahead and say it!”, you yelled at him, throwing overboard whatever composure you had held through the day. 

“Immature, you are immature!”, Peter yelled back and it stung, more than what you would like to admit. “Can you just stop this and tell me for god’s sake?”

You shook your head, you couldn’t even believe that you had allowed this conversation to go for as long as it had, and with what Peter was saying, he didn’t even seem like himself. The more you heard his words, the more you believed that he actually didn’t know you. 

“Figure it out by yourself and leave me an alone idiot!”, you tried to say in a stentorian voice, but it came out much smaller than you thought. 

You felt tired, the energy it took to fight Peter, the energy it took to call him out on his cluelessness, it took a toll on you. Bottling up feelings had been your defense mechanism for so long, that sometimes when you wanted to say your mind, your throat hurt and your heartfelt heavy. 

The lump never seemed to leave, neither the heaviness and in conversations like this, they seemed more prominent. 

Peter stayed silent for a moment as he saw your chest coming up and down, the tears rolling from your checks and he hated it, he hated himself for causing it but he also hated you for not telling him anything, silence had always been your favorite weapon and it stung. 

But still, you were you and he didn’t want to see you upset. He quickly tried to take a hold of your hand but you snatched it away, almost instinctively. 

“What’s your problem?” 

The air between both of you was rather thick, Peter and you remained silent as you securely were watching one another. It seemed that all that resentment and anger and hurt had been left in the air, the bubble was still there but nothing seemed to be able to pop it. 

And you knew it would be harder to breathe each time that you found one another, only causing more pain.

Who would want to live like that? You asked yourself, as you decided to simply let go. 

“My problem is that I liked you,” you confessed, “I loved you and you disregarded my feelings and got together with Gwen”

Peter remained stunned for a second, or two. He had been waiting years, years for you to finally confess your feelings for him. He dreamed of it since he met you but he had talked himself out of it, simply assuming that you were brave, that you would tell him if there were feelings on your part, but you only treated him as a friend, except for…

 “Why didn’t you tell me!”, he complained and you shot him a glare. 

“Oh, come on, don’t act like that night wasn’t anything!”

“What night?”, the sultry strange voice seemed almost like a purr.

You whipped your heads towards where the voice came from and there she was, on the edge of the building standing delicately. Her long silver (almost white) hair was tightly wrapped up in a tall ponytail with two strands of hair framing her face perfectly. It seemed it complimented her almost purple eyes that shined from behind the black mask that covered most of the upper region of her face but let out on the open her plump lips that had an intense dark red lipstick that suited her well. 

Then her black leather costume with soft white lines was, well, tight everywhere. It framed her body perfectly, it almost seemed like it was a second skin, her boy was voluptuous and beautiful, her hands looked like claws and those nails seemed like they could cut ice, almost like they were knives on their own.

“Lovely to see you, Spidey”, she said to Peter, her silky voice gave you tingles as you quickly reacted and pressed the charm on your necklace. 

The suit started to hug your body when Black Cat turned around and a grin was drawn on her face as she watched you transforming yourself into the hero that you were. Her eyes gleaming at the sight of your suit as she licked her lips, you felt almost embarrassed as if you were laid bare in front of her. 

“You brought me a new one,” she cooed, “and the prettiest, nonetheless”

You felt your cheeks getting warm as she got closer to you, her hips swinging from side to side as she walked and you placed yourself in a defensive stand. 

She giggled to herself, clearly loving the possible challenge. 

“That’s enough Cat”, Peter snapped as he shot one of his webs and caught her hand. 

Black Cat chuckled to herself, as she quickly slashed Peter’s web from her hand and threw a little explosive towards where he was, forcing Peter to retreat for a second but before she could turn around to run, she faced you, you quickly took a hold of her shoulder and cocked your head. 

“Sorry Kitty”, you muttered before you pushed her down to the floor as you kneeled, her head bounced against the concrete and she groaned. 

She glared back at you and before you knew it, she wrapped her legs on your neck as she did a candlestick and then pulled you down as she rolled over you, leaving you under her legs. You quickly took a hold of her waist, as you tried to get her off from you but her hold on your neck was rather tight. 

Her eyes rolled to the back of her skull as she watched you and leaned down a bit, “You look so pretty like that”, she whispered. 

You took that second to recover from her statement and you took a hold of her neck, tightly, hoping that she would let go of yours, but it seemed like she enjoyed just the amount of pressure that you placed on her neck. She quickly placed her hands on your hand as her eyes remained glued to yours. 

“Harder, pretty please?”, she purred and you could feel your hold getting looser by her words. 

“Oh my god, stop!”, you yelled at her, knowing that if you removed your mask, she would be able to see the corners of the lips turn upward, although you were trying so hard not to. 

Peter quickly grabbed her by the arms and peeled her off from you with force, giving you space to breathe a bit again, she giggled as Peter took a hold of her tightly from behind. She struggled to get free as Peter pressed her elbows together in an attempt to immobilize her. 

“She always does that,” Peter assured you as he grunted while he tried to keep her steady. “She wants to make you uncomfortable”

Black Cat rolled her eyes, “Or maybe because I like her?”, she provoked as she winked at you. “You look good Spidey,” she stated as she coiled on Peter’s arms who seemed to be having trouble holding her as you stood up and tried to help, still feeling rather embarrassed by her attention. “Been working out?”, she asked. 

You walked to where Black Cat being held by Peter who was waiting for you to place vibranium bracelets so you could take her to the respective authorities. It had been quicker than what you had planned, especially since Peter hadn’t been able to catch her on his own before. But alone, you were sure that she would’ve sat on you for a longer time. 

“Stop”, Peter growled, completely focused on holding her still so the vibranium bracelets would hold her correctly. 

“So, what happened between the two of you?”, she asked while you watched her intently. “Fucked him and left him, Stark?”

“That’s a lot of questions”, you answered her as you ordered H.A.P.P.Y to generate the vibranium bracelets, you saw her purple-ish eyes watching you up and down before you walked behind her. 

“I’m just curious”, she whispered, shrugging slightly. 

Peter shook his head. “Yeah, I hear that’s bad for cats”, he muttered slowly while your suit began to generate the vibranium bracelets but before you could place them on her, she got into action. 

She quickly gave Peter a swift backward kick that hit him right on his… web shooter and let herself loose, she quickly recovered her hands and began to run towards the edge of the building, to where she had accessed the lab last time. 

You didn’t waste a second, soon you were flying towards her and as she jumped from the edge of the building, right in the mid of the air, you managed to grab her, stopping her and effectively, managing to take the air on her lungs because of the impact. You quickly managed to rise higher into the air and then back up to the rooftop where Peter was calling you through the com but Black Cat recovered quickly, and she coiled on your arms and before you knew it, she slashed one of your sleeves with her claws. 

You hissed as you watched your arm, she had managed to remove a couple of the nanobots that made your suit, it wasn’t too deep but she had managed to cut you, which was concerning because it meant that those claws were made by something strong. 

“Ow!”, you grumbled. “Are you crazy?”

You then gazed at her and she was smirking as she tried to take another hit at your chest, without any doubt you let go of her, right above where Peter was waiting for both of you. 

“Web her up!”, you ordered Peter as Black Cat fell and began to be wrapped in Peter’s web as he shot at her repeatedly but every time he managed to immobilize one hand or her legs, she slashed his web with her other claw. 

“I can’t get her!”, Peter grunted as he continued to shoot at her.  

When she landed on the roof, barely harmed and with only the excess of webs that Peter had managed to throw at her. Peter ran after her, quickly webbing her feet as he jumped towards her and pushed her to the floor, but she was so swift and suave that she simply landed on her hands and managed to do several round-off back handspring escaping from Peter and then effectively managed to break her hold on her legs. 

“Are you serious?”, Peter cursed to himself and she gave him a light wink. 

She then turned around with a smile on her face only to crash against your suit, she gasped heavily as she watched you in front of her, giving a quick step back. You smiled and before Black Cat even knew it, you pointed at her with one of your repulsors. 

“Sorry Kitty”, you muttered before you shot her with your repulsor, sending her back into the floor and where Peter was standing. 

Although you had diminished the capacity of your suit by a lot for that shot, you still felt a small sense of fear when you saw that she was not moving, Peter was already on his knees watching her intently and checking her vitals. 

“Is she okay?”, you asked Peter as you arrived, but before he could even answer you ordered H.A.P.P.Y. to check her vitals. 

Peter rolled his eyes, “She’s fine”, he answered but your mask disappeared quickly as you glared at her. “She’s just unconscious” 

“Miss Stark, she’s okay. She seems to have a slight concussion but she’s aw-”

Before H.A.P.P.Y. could finish talking you felt your legs being wrapped in something, you lowered your eyes to your legs and they seemed to be bounded by a white threat, you raised your head once more to see that Black Cat had disappeared from between you and Peter and that Peter was in the same position as you, he gazed at you with a haunted expression. 

You quickly felt a hand on the back of your neck, it swiftly droved your head against Peter’s and everything went black, the last thing you remember was Peter’s honey and cinnamon scent and Black Cat’s voice:

“Can’t wait to see you again, Stark”

****

taglist: @spideylovin​ @fandomtrash100​ @soullessbabee​

***

author’s note: So, I think it’s like one of my first chapters that i’ve revised as well as i did just because i wanted the introduction to Felicia to be perfect and to see how interested she actually is on y/n. anyway, it can still have some mistakes and i’m so osrry for that but i hope you like it?? i’m more than excited for the next few chapters.

next few chapters we are going to have more action and begin with the fun partss! I’ll leave a sneak peak of the next chapter in the masterlist like i did for this one and yes. also, next few chapters are going to be so long and that might take me more time, i have the skeleton ready for chapter 2, i just need to fill it with details but HOPEFULLY i have it uploaded by sunday but i’m also full of finals?? i’ll try for sunday but maybe it will be ready for next week FOR SURE. 

please please please let me know what did you think!! a little like or reblog would literally make my day and i’m already SO happy with everything you commented on my last post. literal tears. thank you so so so much for taking the time to read my work, thank you!! any feedback is very well received!!

[spongebob-connoisseur]

sorry you got covid i hope you and your family get better soon my mom and older sister got tested positive just today while me and my other older sister got tested negative but we are taking another test again tomorrow just to be sure hopefully it is the same as today and currently we are staying at my dad's house now anyways i hope you guys feel better soon <3 unrelated and less scary is favorite spongebob moments that made you smile?

Ohh hope your mom and older sister are doing okay! I hope you and your other sister didn't catch it.

I remember last year my cousins all got covid (all 6 kids) they all got better which makes me feel better about it because one of them is also immunocompromised like me. Idk I had this whole panic thing this morning about it xD but yeah.

Usually when it comes down to questions like that, I usually end up holding off because I wanna make SURE what moments to include and not forget anything but this time I'll go off the top of my head.

- all of season 1. Its such good vibes. I keep rewatching season 1 just because it makes me feel so happy. Every frame. Every little small detail. Idk why it just hits?? Just last night I was watching Ripped Pants. Every expression spongebob makes is so adorable. Even how he talks is so endearing. I wanna make a whole post about how SB talks in season 1 because I think its neat.

- the 2nd movie. I know you said specific moments but I love this movie a lot. While the 1st movie is an undeniable masterpiece. It's a lot more sad-nostalgic for me for some reason. It's like a lost happy memory you'll never feel again. Which some people like but I don't. The 2nd movie was so obscure and abstract. People didn't like it much for its obsurdity. It had to be meaningful™ like the first but to me it really was. Even in a small way. It brought me so much joy seeing it in theatres back when I wasn't feeling so well. And it still brings me a lot of joy.

- Modern episodes. I know people tend to detest modern spongebob's overactive joy in the later seasons. Especially paired with extreme expression. But something about it just clicks with me. Its so happy and obscure that it ends up being infectious to me.

Something about it just feels like having that smile dip from gravity falls. It's too happy and it ends up making me feel really happy too. Animated cocaine if you will.

- that Jellyfishing song from Spongebob's Last Stand. I hate the reggae part of the song tbh but the rest of it is that sort of over the top infectious amount of joy. I'd still sing along to it.

Tho my favorite favorite is Tom Kenny and Bill Fagerbakke singing it together at a convention. Tbh I wish I could've seen that live. Oh well.

- mermaid man and barnacle boy song. I already posted a clip but Spongebob and Patrick singing it together. Oh gosh that's so much fun. The way they bounce along too while squidward is annoyed by their antics is so adorable. It also reminds me of when I first watched the episode and I was watching it during lunch hour at the school library and my friend dealing with me bouncing along to the song.

- pretty much whenever spongebob and patrick being friends. I know the middle seasons screwed up their relationship a bit but ignoring that. SB and Patrick have the cutest friendship ever!! Spongebob cares so much for patrick. Patrick absolutely adores spongebob. Sandy's voice actor called them "a friendship like true love" and I stick by that statement through and through.

- any moment with slappy laszlo. You know I had to mention my boy. He's so cute and huggable and unnerving. I love him!! And also because of him I also ended up loving Peter Lorre (the guy whom slappy is parodying)

Idk slappy comes off as so adorable. He hits that spot where he does things that's kinda uncomfortable but also just hilarous because he's just having fun doing his own thing and finds humor in people finding him a weirdo. I suspect slappy is somewhat self aware that he creeps people out and just does further to fuck with people. It makes it further amusing. He just matches my brand of humor too well.

Peter Lorre makes sense since he was pretty baby-faced in his early career. Also the first movie I seen him in Arsenic and Old Lace where he plays a very sheepish and cowardly plastic surgeon who makes whiny puppy noises was too cute. His creepy characters he was known for often come off as too adorable.

Also Slappy is just so huggable. Tbh I kinda wanna make a slappy plushie.

Yeah that's all I can remember. Might make a detailed list in the future actually going in depth some other day. Hope ya enjoy 👌

[professional-benaddict]

Tony is a cop and he’s doing a drug raid, tony watches as druggies get arrested but when he sees one cop go to far with arresting a little! Peter by manhandling him and hitting him he takes matters into his own hands and takes the 19 year old boy in with medic Stephen.

tHank you for the brilliant prompt omg I know I said I wouldn't do prompts before my exam is over with but I just couldn't stop myself sksk I wrote this all in one sitting 

part two here

Cop Tony, paramedic Stephen, 18+ Little Peter, Littles are known verse, police raids, SWAT teams, drug dealing, guns and violence, illegal drug use, referenced forced drug use, bad trip, whump, angst, comfort, 1.7k

It’s so odd, the feelings he has right before a raid. There’s electricity in the air, and yet it is peaceful and quiet. It is three in the morning, after all. Tony can hear his blood rush in his ear with each beat of his heart. It resembles how noises sound underwater, muffled and distant. And yet, he is as calm as ever, and breathes quietly as he looks at the office window. That’s their main target. They know that a week before, a large quantity of cocaine was smuggled in and brought to this exact location. A mule had told them, and so that was all the evidence they needed to start planning a raid. 

Every step has been calculated carefully beforehand. No one takes a step without it being planned. The bullet proof vest pinches Tony in his left armpit, but he can’t reach out to adjust it. He tries to roll his shoulder, and it worsens the pinch before it eases off. His eyes never dart away from the dark office window. 

Further down the street, a vehicle approaches. The headlights are turned off, and they are rolling in as quietly as possible, so that the element of surprise is not ruined. If it is, it could mean serious trouble. Suddenly, the danger of it all hits Tony, which it sometimes does when they are all anxiously anticipating the clear to go. His chest feels a bit tighter again, and it’s not due to the bullet proof vest, although it felt a bit small when Tony put it on. Glancing over to see who had arrived, Tony squints his eyes to try and make out who exits the vehicle. All the nerves ease off when Tony recognises Stephen. The two of them have become roommates quite recently. It’s cheaper to share, Tony had insisted. He is definitely not lonely, but he hopes Stephen is. 

Stephen is a paramedic, and an excellent one. Considering their work and how it often clashes when responding to calls, Tony has become familiar with the paramedic long before even meeting him in person. But, on one call Tony had finally decided to introduce himself properly. Stephen had apologised for how sweaty his hand was, and blamed the latex gloves for it and Tony was charmed. Somehow, Tony had brought up that he was looking for someone to share an apartment with, only because it is cheaper, and to his surprise, Stephen had said the same. They have been living together for a month, and already Tony feels more at ease knowing Stephen is present, if things were to go terribly wrong. 

“Stark, eyes on the target!” Fury whispers harshly into Tony’s earpiece, and officer shifts his gaze back to the office window. He does not bother apologising to his superior team leader, since that would just make more noise. 

Then, the action starts. It is like a play. Everyone has their role, and Nick Fury directs the show beautifully. Doors are kicked in, windows are shattered and the different teams enter the building perfectly on cue. The armed SWAT team members go first, and secure the building like terrifying angels. There are no gunshots fired, luckily, but there is plenty of shouting and yelling. Mostly, it is the SWAT team ordering the ones occupying the building to get down and keep their hands behind their heads. 

Then, it’s Tony turns and the rest of the police officers to make the actual arrests when the SWAT team has secured the place. Wouldn’t it be nice if Stephen saw him bringing out a handcuffed drug dealer? Tony half smirks at the idea and snaps the cuffs onto three different drug deals. The scene is surprisingly calm, despite the fact that one of the dealers seems to be crying. Judging by the smell, he also shit himself in pure fear. 

Raised voices and whimpering cries makes Tony turn his attention to the hallway. The cries get louder, and the officer feels his gut twist at the vulnerable tone. Could that be a child? Or a Little? There was no information about there potentially being Littles or children involved in the briefing. 

“Take them outside.” Tony says to the SWAT team member by his side, gesturing to the handcuffed dealers, then makes a few quick strides to get to the hallway. There, he sees another SWAT team member manhandling a Little up against the wall. The boy is clearly a Little with his smaller body combined with a post puberty shape. Even if he is not a child, that is no way to treat a Little. 

“Hey, back off! He’s a Little, can’t you tell?” Tony calls out and shoves the SWAT guy back and away from the boy. With the SWAT guy no longer holding him up against the wall, the boy collapses to the floor with a choked off sob. 

“He was resisting and disobeying orders.” The SWAT guy explains, his eyes hard as he looks at Tony. In the all black and well-protected SWAT gear, the only thing you can see is his blue eyes and pale eyebrows. If Tony wasn’t feeling the contempt between the police force and SWAT team before, he definitely feels it now. 

“He’s a Little.” Tony emphasises. “Of course he is disobeying when you’re towering over him like that.” The police officer points out and the SWAT guy scoffs behind his black mask. 

“And that’s why you could never be one of us.” He accuses, and then walks away. 

Tony wants to be offended, and wants to memorise the SWAT guy as best as he can to later call him out in front of Nick Fury, but another loud sob by his feet distracts him. Crouching down to the Little, Tony gently turns him on his back. Immediately, Tony is drawn to the boy’s honey brown eyes. They look soft, and innocent, and remind him of the sweetness of brown sugar, or caramelised sugar. But, then his attention is drawn to just how wide the boy’s pupils are, and how the vessels in the whites of his eyes are bulging and looking angry red. Cocaine eyes. 

Tapping his earpiece, Tony speaks quickly to Fury. 

“Get Strange in here.” 

“We didn’t hear a gunshot-“

“No, there’s a Little here. He’s taken or been given crack.” 

After Tony says that, it sparks a lot more action and the paramedics are lead inside with some of the SWAT team, considering the drug dealers have not all been escorted out yet. Next to him, Stephen has his work partner, Christine, and they both drop their first aid bags on the floor before crouching down to the floor by the still crying Little. It seems like he is having a bad trip. 

“Hey.” Stephen greets to Tony. The officer smiles back shortly before stepping back to let the paramedics work. “Hi, there, sweetheart. My name is Stephen, and this is my friend Christine. What’s your name?” 

“P-Peter…” 

“Peter? That’s such a pretty name.” Stephen compliments and slips on a pair of powder blue gloves that Christine passes over to him. “Now, Peter, can you tell me what you’ve taken?”

“I… dunno… don’t feel good…” 

“I know, bud, and we’ll help you. But, we need to know what you took, so we can give you the right medicine.” 

“They… said it was- was snow. Was… white and- powdery. Don’t like it when they sti-stick it in…” The boy stutters out bravely. 

“Cocaine.” Stephen says quietly to Christine, who nods and starts readying an IV to insert into the back of the boy’s hand. Then, he turns to Peter again with a smile. “You’re so brave for telling us, thank you. Now, can you tell me how you feel? Are you hurting, sweetie?” 

Stephen’s sweet and caring tone is not enough to better the burning rage Tony feels inside when he thinks of what the boy said. Did they force him to use cocaine? To keep him with them? Just how addicted is he? What role does he have in this sick household? 

All this and more questions rush through Tony’s mind at a hundred miles an hour, or even faster. It takes two repetitions from Fury for Tony to actually hear him, and move onto his next task. He knows the Little while be in safe hands with Stephen and Christine. 

Half an hour later, the show is just about over. Or at least the exciting part of it. The investigation itself will start later in the morning, but for now everyone is pleased with the outcome of the raid. The drug dealers have all been arrested and driven to kept in custody and the SWAT team is packing up as well. Stood out in the yard of the building, Tony sees Stephen and Christine transporting the Little out of the main door on a gurney. He is not just laying on the gurney, but actually strapped in with straps going over his torso. Peter also has an oxygen mask on his face, and seems to be unconscious. Tony jogs over. 

“What took so long?” 

“He had a seizure, but it was less that two minutes. I think he got a really bad high.” Stephen says where he is pushing the top of the gurney towards the ambulance. 

“Can I come with?” Tony asks, before he thinks better of it. 

“Stark, you’re supposed to be here, right?” Stephen asks, but his tone isn’t rude. Just pointing out what Tony seems oblivious to at the moment. 

“Yeah, right…” The officer sighs, but still keeps walking alongside Stephen. When they reach the ambulance, he helps the two paramedics with loading in their unconscious patient. Once the gurney is secure, Stephen climbs into the back. Christine heads to the drivers seat, and starts the engine. They do not have that much time, so Tony doesn’t hold them back. “I’ll see you at the apartment, I guess.” 

Stephen gives him a smile and nod before closing the double doors. A few seconds later, Christine starts the sirens and they drive away into the night, illuminating the streets in red as they go. Once the ambulance is out of sight, Tony heads to Fury with a request. 

“Sir? I’d like to take the Little’s statement.” 

[fortuitous-juxtapositions]

Art of Deception Part 6 (Orlo x Reader)

Summary: An Orlo x Reader slow burn. You and your uncle have    just arrived in Peter III’s court from the Colonies. You uncle has    warned you of the debauchery of the court and devises a plan to keep you     safe, but the Emperor has other ideas. You find yourself thrown to  the   wolves and you must keep your secret while while fighting the  growing   feelings you have for the one person in court you who you  would tell the  secrets of the universe to if he would only ask.

Note: Anything in Italics indicates the characters are speaking English as opposed to Russian

Also available to read on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25566277/chapters/63156886

The first thing you became aware of was the debilitating pain in your head that worsened each time your heart beat. You groaned, trying to regulate you breathing in effort to slow your heart rate. You had nearly lowered the speed and intensity of your pulse when you felt a sharp sting at the crook of you left arm. You fought to crack your weary eyes open, blinking a few times against the light. When your eyes finally adjusted you were greeted with the face of a man you had never met before.

His wide, startled eyes met yours for a moment before you retched you arm out of his grasp and pushed yourself against the headboard. You reached under your pillow where you had hid a knife your uncle had gifted you. You raised it at the man, pushing yourself further into the headboard as a means to steady yourself.

“Who the fuck are you?” you growled and brandished the weapon at the strange man.

“Serf!” he cried out and raised his hands. “Serf!”

Vera came rushing into the room and stopped dead still as she took in the sight before her.

“I am not a serf.” Her hands came to her hips as she glared at the man.

“Right, apologies” his hands were still in the air “can you assist? She is in hysterics.”

“Oh, I wonder why,” Vera snarked. “Poor girl just woke up to a strange man hovering over like a right creep.”

“Can you just settle her down?” he glared at the woman of a small pair of spectacles that sat perched on his nose. “I was in the middle of a phlebotomy treatment”

You quickly glanced down, noticing the for the first time the pool of blood that had started to collect on your sheets. You looked to your arm, where you had felt the sharp sting earlier to see a slowly weeping wound.

“(Y/N), love” Vera stepped forward, pushing the man out of the way. “Please, do not stab the doctor, he is the only one we have.”

She held the front of her skirts up and stepped up into the bed. You lowered the knife and she grabbed it from your hand with a wide grin.

“Oh, Lord help the man who decides to share your bed,” she winked at you and slid the knife back to it’s hiding place “one wrong move and he’ll go from stallion to gelding with a flick of your wrist.”

She helped you to the edge of the bed, a dizzying wave overtook you and the pain in your head increased.

“We must finish the treatment, then make her a drink of cocaine and juniper berries.” The man began to take a step towards you and your hand shot back towards the hidden blade. He froze and held his hands up once again.

“I think that is her subtle way of telling you to ‘fuck off,’ Chekov” you could hear the laugh in Vera’s voice.

The man sniffed and strode quickly over to a case that sat on your vanity. He grumbled to himself as he packed up several glass vials and jars before shutting the case with a resounding snap.

“Well, if she gets worse and decides to take the advice of a well-respected physician” Vera rolled her eyes and mouthed the words as he spoke them. The man glared hard at her and stomped out of the room. Vera held a finger up as a sign for you to wait until a loud bang was heard, the man having exited the apartments with a slam of the doors.

You looked down at your arm and huffed, grabbing the skirt of the ruined white underclothes that you were wearing and pressing firmly to the still seeping wound on your arm.

“Archaic” you muttered as you tried to staunch the flow of blood.

Vera sat next to you and looked you over in concern.

“Are you alright, love?” she asked as she took over the task of applying pressure from you. Your free hand came up to your forehead and rubbed at the temples.

“I don’t know… what happened?”

“Do you remember anything of last night?” her brows were furrowed.

“I remember leaving here, arriving at the dining hall and being immediately scooped up by Elizabeth,” Vera groaned, “She fed me wines and spirits. She tried to force food onto me, but I don’t think I ate much of it. Then Peter” you blanched as the memory of the Emperor forcing you to speak and dance like some trained dog surfaced. You shivered “and that was all I remember.”

The cut on your arm had stopped bleeding and Vera dropped the skirt back to your lap before sighing and running her hands through your hair.

“From what I heard, he forced you to dance with him and then began to spin you around in circles until you nearly tripped over your own feet. That is when the Empress gained his and Elizabeth’s attention, believed to be a deliberate action on her part, and you very wisely made your escape,” she started to braid the hair out of your face. “You were found a short distance from the dining hall and brought back here.”

“Found?” your head jerked over to face her; your eyes wide. “What do you mean found? Who found me?”

Vera bit her lip, “General Velementov and Count Orlo,” you groaned and flung yourself back onto the bed, not caring that you were laying across blood stained sheets. Vera’s eyes followed your movement. “The wear practically carrying you when they arrived here. I had them take you directly to this room-”

“Please, no more,” you moaned in self-pity. “If I hear any more, I fear I may throw myself out the window and be reunited with the gown you tossed out yesterday.”

“You’re being dramatic” very tsked.

“I think I am allowed to be a little dramatic” argued back. “I have just gone and made a fool of myself in front of two of the more powerful people in Orlo’s court.”

“Peter’s” Vera corrected you with a smirk. “Peter’s court.”

“… that’s what I said,” you sat up and blinked owlishly at her.

“No, you said Or-”

“Never mind,” you waved away the conversation as her smirk grew. “I have made myself vulnerable in front of two very powerful people! Whose to say they will not use this against me in the future?” you rested your head on her shoulder.

“Well, then there is nothing else for it,” she rested her head on your own. “You will have to seduce them, invite them into your bed and stab them with that miniature sword you have hidden there.”

You snorted and felt Vera grin against your head.

“And then what? Become and enemy of the state? Disguise myself as a man and runaway from the palace? Catch a boat back to… actually, this might just work.” A loud bark of laughter burst from Vera’s lips and you couldn’t help but chuckle along.

“Well, now that that’s settled, let’s get you some food and then a nice warm bath.”

Vera helped you stand from the bed, steadying you as you stumbled slightly, and escorted you out of the room.

“For what it’s worth,” she led you to your seat at the table were a mass of different breakfast foods were set out. “I do not think Velementov or Orlo will use last night against you.” She piled a plate with eggs, fruit and a breakfast bread. “They both seemed rather distraught at your condition. I practically had to shove the Count out of the door.”

______

You sat in the window seat, having been fed, cleaned, and dressed, the memories of last night had started to fade. The book you had been reading sat on your lap, while your face was turned to the open window, the breeze ruffling your hair as you closed your eyes and soaked in the sun.

A throat cleared.

“Lady (Y/N),” your slowly opened your eyes as Vera spoke your name. Turning, your eyes fell upon the familiar dark-haired man that stood beside her. You felt your heart speed up “Count Orlo is here to see you.”

You nodded a greeting to the man, fighting to keep your face steady and not show the emotions that were toiling beneath the surface.

“I uh-” Orlo stuttered before taking a deep, calming breath. “I wanted to check and see how you are feeling today?”

He took a few uncertain steps towards you. You slid to the side and gestured to the spot beside you on in the window seat. He smiled nervously and took a seat. You smiled at him before dropping your head to your lap in embarrassment.

That’s when you noticed it.

The book you had been reading…

It was written in Russian.

Your hands shot to cover the title of the book, hiding it from Orlo’s sight. You glanced up and sighed in relief, his gaze was firmly on the floor and you were certain he had not seen the title of the book.

… Almost.

You shot a look over to Vera who stood to the side, near your bedroom door. She looked at you confused before you glanced down at the book before looking back to her. Her eyes widened and she realized the point you were trying to make.

“I’m sorry,” Orlo started and looked back up to you. You met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, hoping he would not take notice of the stupid little red book. “I-I should have h-helped you sooner.” He turned his back to you with a sigh of frustration.

You shot a look over to Vera who nodded to you. Making sure the Count was still turned away from you. You took the chance and threw the book to Vera, noticing too late that Vera was right within his line of sight now. You held your breath; certain you would be caught.

Orlo groaned and turned back towards you as the book flew over his head. Vera caught the book with wide eyes and quickly hid it behind her back.

“I’m such an idiot,” Orlo finally look back up to your face and you quickly molded your face into a mask of confusion. “I should have done something to help you, I’m such a dick.”

He placed his hand over his forehead, blocking your view of his eyes.

“I always balls these things up.” He brought his other hand to his head and held firm. Your mind drifted back to that first night he had escorted you back to your rooms, how he had held your small hands within his larger ones and attempted to warm them. A smile slowly started to creep its way across your face at the memory.

“I was just, so shook up after you-” he turned to you and your smile fell back to the quizzical expression before he could see it. “You hugged me.”

It was spoken in a near whisper. It was as if he were awed at the gesture, amazed that anyone would want to hug him.

“You hugged me,” he reached for your hand and you felt yourself drifting in the sea of deep, silky chocolate that matched the shades you saw in his eyes. “You hugged me.”

His eyes dropped to your hand that he held softly cradled in his own. He rubbed his thumb across the top of your fingers, and you felt what was almost an itch, a need for him to hold your hand tighter, to feel more of his skin against your own.

“You hugged me and I stood there like a fucking moron,” he dropped your hand and brought it to his head, smacking himself with the heel. “I’m such an idiot, I am not well versed with… this.”

He was again speaking his private thoughts aloud and your breathing sped up, knowing you should not be listing to what he was saying, that you should stop him from saying anything further.

You quickly grabbed the hand, stopping him from hitting himself in the head again. He remained deathly still as you pulled his hand down, brining it to his knee and holding it tight to keep him from his self-flagellation. You could hear his breathing as it started to speed up, but the rest of him remained staring at the floor. You patiently waited until you felt his hand tighten around your own as his eyes slowly met yours. The concern you had for him dropped and you felt a warm smile crossing you face. His face, screwed up in self-hatred, lightened and a smile slowly curved his cheeks upward, his eyes glistening with and unsaid emotion you couldn’t quite place. It gave you a glint of the man you had seen yesterday. The confident man that strode next to the Empress like he had always belonged there.

A lead weight dropped in your stomach as your remembered. He was the Empress’s lover.

You quickly pulled your hand from his and stood up, taking a quick step back from the man. How could you be so stupid? You could not afford to have such a powerful enemy as his lover was sure to be. You already had the Emperor and his aunt tearing at your heels, you didn’t want the whole match set!

“I’m-I’m so sorry!” Orlo quickly stood up at the same time you turned to face him. You nearly collided with him, but you both reached out to each other to steady yourselves. You gulped as you felt his warm breath blow across your face, a searing heat started where his hands had gripped your arms and spread up to your neck and cheeks. You were eye level with his chin and you couldn’t help yourself from tilting your head up. His already dark eyes seemed to darken further as they met yours. You could feel your breath start to speed up, a pressure in your chest formed and you knew, if you would just raise yourself slightly on your tip toes and press your lips to his that the pressure would explode into a glorious heat that would consume you both.

“Ahem,” Vera cleared her throat from her post by your door and you were immediately brought back to reality. You hastily stepped out of the Counts grasp, putting space between your bodies.

What were you thinking?

You weren’t thinking.

At least not with your head.

The precipice between you and the Count felt so much bigger than the two steps it would have taken him to meet you once more. You mentally begged for him to take those steps, willing him to show you that what you felt was felt by him as well.

“I… I should go,” the Count skidded around you like you diseased and dashed through the doors, not even bothering to close them completely in his rush to get away from you.

Vera quickly ran over and closed the doors firmly before turning towards you and leaning throwing her weight against the doors.

“Fuck!” You slapped your forehead and threw yourself into one of the highbacked chairs. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck!”

“Agreed.”

______

You and Vera sat drinking spirits and discussing what had transpired between you and the Count.

“Whew!” a fairly tipsy Vera exclaimed. “That was so… woah!” She took another shot. “I mean, I felt it. I really felt that, in here” she gestured sloppily to her abdomen. You groaned and raised you glass, frowning when you noticed it was empty.

“I mean… what the fuck?” You grabbed the bottle whiskey and poured another glass, nearly overfilling it in the process. “What the fuck was that?”

“Hot.” Vera refilled her vodka. “That was hot.”

“But,” you groaned and took a drink. “But, he is off limits.”

“Says who?” Vera nearly yelled. “A man who is off limits does not look at a woman the way the Count was looking at you!”

“He is!” You threw back the rest of your whiskey. “He’s fucking the Empress!” Vera gasped.

“He is?” she refilled your glass. “Well fuck.”

“Indeed!” You sighed and slunk down in your chair. “You are an idiot (Y/F/N) (Y/L/N). You had to go and fall for the one person who you cannot have!”

“Love is a fucking cunt.” Vera growled as she leaned forward.

“I will simply have to keep a respectable distance from him and hope to whatever deity that is out there that the war ends soon so we can go home.” You felt tears welling up at the thought.

“Huzzah!” Vera tossed back her drink.

“Huzzah,” your voice did not match the intensity of the word, it was somber as you felt something within you crack.

You shook yourself from your misery and threw back the rest of your whiskey.

The sound of shattering glass faded into the night.

------

Taglist: @startrekkingaroundasgard​ @aryn-the-bearheart​

[tigervoyage43]

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Nonetheless, they still do not seem just certain to the target receptors, and also unintentional biding to external receptors is still apparent. Especially, SARMs are created to attach to receptors in skeletal muscular tissue and also bone to trigger paths involved in skeletal muscular tissue hypertrophy and also bone regrowth. SARMs were originally created to combat some major usual concerns that accompany the senior individuals when their testosterone levels begin to normally decrease and also they become prone to sarcopenia and weakening of bones.

Nonetheless, controlled medications such as amphetamine and also cocaine are generally persistantly mistreated as well as this can bring about dependence. Below is a succinct and useful account of the major medicine classes in common use. The scenario is compounded even more by widespread co-administration of 'masking representatives'.

Ostarine (mk.

This implies that they must all be provided by shot, usually right into a muscle mass or under the skin. IGF-1, until now, has no legitimate medical usages and also appears to function directly at the degree of tissues, where it boosts an increase in protein synthesis and fat metabolic process. EPO simulates a natural procedure, wherein the launch of the body's very own hormonal agent from the kidney is stimulated in reaction to a fall in the amount of oxygen brought in the blood. For instance, this could be caused by rising rapidly to a high altitude or as an outcome of too much blood loss.

As they are touted as a steroid option without the side effects, it is not unexpected how their popularity is quickly growing. Such a medicine could hypothetically be useful at changing testosterone use in professional setups, which includes numerous adverse negative effects.

A Bluffers Overview To Two Of Skin Cares Most Effective Active Components.

The opportunities of estrogen-related sides and water retention are substantially reduced, also. Equally as with AAS, stacking prevails with peptide hormonal agents; rivals usually blend as well as match a mixed drink of agents. Throughout an occasion they may also supplement this routine with an energizer. EPO generates a quick increase in haematocrit (in some cases as high as 60 percent; normal range per cent), with quantifiable rises still evident four months adhering to withdrawal of the drug. This is because new blood cells have a life time of about 120 days. Nevertheless, the pattern of management taken on by someone looking for performance-enhancing benefits means that the level of the medication in the blood is virtually continuously increased. This implies that they are damaged down by the acids in the stomach, in similar means as proteins in food during digestion.

In contrast, the 'polar zipper' device describes hydrogen bonding communications in between the amino acid side chains on nearby beta hairs.

As a result, permitted ɸ values will certainly be fairly restricted compared with other amino acids.

In the context of a peptide, the amide group (CO-- NH) is described as the peptide group.

In 2019 Vapourtec created a partnership in the direction of peptide synthesis with Professor Peter Seeberger as well as his Team at Max Slab Institute, Berlin.

This job has actually been published in the paper shown instantly below.

The side-chain of proline is covalently bound to the N of the amino group, so in polyproline, there will be much less liberty of turning about the Cα-- N bond than with various other amino acids.

In overdose and most specifically when a rival has ended up being dried, physical adverse effects can be harmful. Hyperthermia adhering to amphetamine consumption likely eliminated Tom Simpson on Mont Ventoux in 1967. Some proof suggests that persistent stimulant misuse was a contributory consider the death of 1998 Tour de France winner Marco Pantani.

Have a look at our advice sheet on Diet regimen for ideas concerning just how diet plan can aid your recovery. Action pedometers can be purchased for around ₤ 15 on Amazon, in outdoor camping shops like Blacks or from the BHF On-line Shop. The inquiry that commonly develops is just how much workout should we do? The NHS advises concerning 150 minutes or two and also a fifty percent hours of reasonably intense workout each week for grownups. In theory people taking antipsychotics should go for more than this as they need to offset this added threat element. One kind of workout that is often undervalued is general activity such as household chores as well as taking care of the yard.

Day one was the hardest-- by 5pm I had a cracking migraine, regardless of consuming around 6 litres of water; I believe it was at least partially down to high levels of caffeine withdrawal. Somebody advised consuming alcohol a mineral-rich salt service such as Himalayan salt, which replaces the electrolytes flushed out of your body; whether it was a placebo impact or not, the headache quickly went away. There's absolutely nothing incorrect with aggressive weight-loss, yet reduced-- or in this instance no-- calorie diet regimens are certainly not sustainable and also ought to checked carefully. If you are thinking of enhancing the quantity of exercise you are getting after that it might be a great time to think about improving your diet regimen as well.

SARMs have similar impacts to reduced doses of testosterone, but to a lower extent. An additional one of the primary benefits of SARMS is that, unlike testosterone, a lot of them do not obtain exchanged 5α-DHT. On top of that, they do not appear to go through aromatization into estrogen which can decrease the event of negative effects such as gynecomastia. At the very least in pet research studies, SARMs have shown to partially attain this, with substances such as S1 and S4 binding to androgen receptors with high affinity and also demonstrating tissue selectivity.

Peptide-based Cardiovascular Therapeutics Market 2021 The demand for the Market will Drastically Increase In The Future - KSU The Sentinel Newspaper

Peptide-based Cardiovascular Therapeutics Market 2021 The demand for the Market will Drastically Increase In The Future.

Posted: Fri, 08 Jan 2021 09:59:15 GMT [source]

SARMs are a shortened term for discerning androgen receptor modulators. To sum up, there are countless advantages you can get from making use of RAD140. In order to accomplish also much better results, experts advise making use of RAD along with other supplements. It matters not if you utilize supplements or go the all-natural method, one of the most crucial point is you're maintaining fit. Enhancing muscles is not always going to be very easy and there is no harm in looking for aid. Ibutamorenis non-hormonal as well as therefore requires no PCT after the cycle is over. It is ideal utilised in at least a 3 month cycle with dosage enhancing each month.

Big dosages of caffeine can generate convulsions and stress and anxiety attacks. Much more seriously, long-term amphetamine and drug usage typically results in addiction as well as reliance.

Can I use niacinamide with peptides?

Niacinamide is uniquely compatible with any of the products in your skin care routine, including those that contain retinol, peptides, hyaluronic acid, AHAs, BHA, vitamin C, and all types of antioxidants. It's even suitable for use by those with sensitive or rosacea-prone skin.

These can help the professional athlete in averting detection throughout routine or test, typically by boosting the price at which the medication are eliminated from the body. It struck me that our perspective in the direction of nutrition is regulated as a lot by behavior as by appetite. We drift through much of our life on autopilot, eating when we normally eat. I eagerly anticipate picking up breakfast at my local coffeehouse, as well as I was always "hungry" when I got there.

Considered that these agents really change just how an entire variety of genetics function, it's perhaps not unexpected that the possible side effects from lasting AAS use are comprehensive and major. This implies that long-lasting users go to a lot greater danger of enduring a cardiac arrest or stroke. Unlike energizers, AAS are taken constantly because they do not have prompt medicinal impacts. They should be taken control of a fairly long period in order to generate substantial impacts on performance. Typically, a progressively increasing dose of several AAS is taken several months before competition-- a procedure known as 'piling'-- with a decrease in dosage a month or 2 before an event.

The ideal application time for MK 677 is at evening directly prior to going to bed. This is a non-peptidic, orally active and also careful agonist of the development hormonal agent secretagogue (secretion-boosting) receptor. you can find more information on pharmalabglobal.com's Shop Pt141 Online here. simulates the activity of ghrelin in the stomach, increasing growth hormone as well as IGF-1 levels, yet does not impact cortisol degrees. LGD 4033 a SARM like Ostarine yet 12 times as powerful at just 1/3 the dosage! SARMs are safe to the liver and have little effect on high blood pressure. This gets rid of the requirement for preloading and on-cycle assistance supplements. Subsequently, a SARM cycle will inevitably be less expensive than a conventional AAS/PH (steroid/prohormone) cycle.

[ohblackdiamond]

little t&a (paul/gene, nc-17) (part 10 of 29)

part 1   part 2   part 3   part 4   part 5   part 6   part 7   part 8   part 9   part 10   part 11   part 12   part 13   part 14   part 15   part 16   part 17   part 18   part 19   part 20   part 21  part 22   part 23   part 24    part 25   part 26   part 27   part 28   part 29

Four weeks before KISS gets back on tour, Gene discovers that Paul’s been cursed by a groupie. For the sake of KISS’ finances, Paul’s comfort levels, and Gene’s libido, this crisis must be resolved. Sexswap fic. In this chapter: More shopping, more problems, and Ace and Peter enact their plan.

           The call to Steve Rubell (or rather, his secretary—Steve, apparently, didn't get up any earlier than two in the afternoon) wasn't the only one Gene made that morning. At Paul's urging, Gene called to have clothes sent over from his house, and a handful of standard accessories. He felt a little bare wearing only his skull ring. Paul kept attempting to advise him as he tried to piece together an image- and Studio 54-suitable outfit from memory of what was in his closets. In the end he just settled on an outfit comprised almost entirely out of black leather. A vague step up from his CBGB outfit, at least.

           "You think I should go to another boutique?" Paul asked as soon as he'd hung up. He'd changed into jeans and a low-cut, frilly purple blouse, more of yesterday's purchases. He kept fiddling with the floppy bow in the front, untying and retying it as he spoke, moving it to the side, then the middle. Sitting beside him on the edge of the bed, he looked like a nervous kid, tapping one bare foot against the floor.

           "Not unless you want to."

           "I dunno. Nothing I have is going to pass muster."

           "Didn't you buy a dress?"

           Paul grimaced.

           "It wasn't anything special. Do you know how many people they don't let in to Studio 54, just because of the outfit?"

           "Paul, you know we'll get in."

           "Yeah, we'll get in, but the press is out there every night. There's gonna be pictures, Gene."

           Gene hesitated. Except for when they'd found Carol's old apartment, Paul's mood seemed to improve, at least a little, whenever they'd ventured out. He hadn't seemed to mind getting clothes that much—sure, he'd taken forever about it, but that wasn't abnormal—and he hadn't picked out sackcloth and ashes for himself, either. Minus the bow, the blouse was something Paul probably would've worn in his regular body, even, except Gene would've been greeted with a hell of a lot of chest hair instead of cleavage.

           "I think what you've got on is probably fine."

           "You haven't been over there. It's picky as hell."

           "We're in KISS, we'll get in."

           "I don't want to just get in! I—" Paul shook his head. "God, you don't understand."

           "What's there to understand?"

           "There's getting in and then there's looking good, Gene. Looking like you belong."

           Gene tilted his head.

           "Do you really want to belong at Studio 54?" Gene had heard, from admittedly irreputable sources, that Rubell would hand out coke at the VIP entrance like it was balloons at the carnival. The basement was supposed to hold nothing but orgies. Yeah, Paul liked to dance, and he liked to rub elbows with people outside of KISS' questionable echelon, but he wasn't a drug addict, and he wasn't a heavy sex fiend. Two things that were practically prerequisites for that place.

           "I wanna belong somewhere," Paul said abruptly, and then shook his head, as though he hadn't really realized he was speaking out loud. "I—what I mean is, I don't wanna come off like I'm some chick you yanked off the front row 'cause she showed you her tits."

           "You don't come that cheap, Paul."

           "Oh, shut up. You get it, right? You get it."

           Gene kind of got it. The closest he could come was envisioning going onstage without the makeup. The one protective shield between fantasy and reality. A funhouse mirror it'd be suicide to step away from. It wasn't that they were shittier musicians without a bunch of paint and leather on, any more than Clark Kent stopped being faster than a speeding bullet once he put on his glasses—but it ruined the magic. Flattened the ego.

           He'd known Paul long enough to realize Paul's ego had been flattened since he'd started grammar school, if not before. Album sales and Billboard climbing never seemed to boost it for long. Being stuck in the wrong body for a week had to have killed whatever was left.

"If you wanna get another outfit, then we'll get you another outfit."

           "Yeah?"

           "Yeah."

--

           Three hours later, Paul had another outfit. Gene had half-hoped Paul would let him into the dressing room—why the hell he'd hoped that when Paul kept changing clothes in the bathroom even at home, he didn't know, but he was still disappointed. Paul had stopped at a slightly more upscale place than yesterday, to Gene's distress, and sorted through the dresses with an almost disturbing intenseness. In the end, he'd only picked out a flowy, light blue one that probably hung to about mid-calf (Paul hadn't let him see it on), with draped short sleeves, another bra, and another pair of heels. He hadn't gotten any accessories to go along with it.

           But what surprised Gene was that he didn't immediately head for the checkout counter. Instead, he kept lingering in the lingerie and nightwear section. Gene would have tried not to comment, except he'd had nothing to do but follow Paul around the boutique like the beleaguered boyfriend he wasn't.

           "Do you want a nightie?" He picked a gauzy, lacey pink number off the rack. Paul's face contorted.

           "That's a teddy."

           "A what?"

           "A teddy. It snaps up at the crotch. See?" Paul pointed. Gene was more distracted by the garters dangling off the sides, flicking at them.

           "I thought they were all nighties."

           Paul shook his head. He took a short lavender babydoll-style nightgown off the rack, running a hand down the silky material, mouth pursed like he was actually considering it.

           "Do you like this stuff?"

           "Me?" Gene looked up, evasively, from where he'd been tugging at the garters. Too loaded a question for a completely honest response. "I like what's underneath it."

           Paul bit his lip and hung the lingerie back up.

           "You wanna get it?" Not that Gene was against it, but Paul had seemed like he was dead-set on wearing t-shirts and boxers to bed for the entire duration of the curse, or at least as long as Gene shared a bed with him. Last night couldn't have made that much of an impression on him. "Go ahead, if you want."

           "I owe you over a hundred bucks as it is."

           "Pay me back with a peepshow."

           "Oh, screw you." But he picked the nightgown up again anyway. "It's just insurance."

           "Insurance for what?"

           "For you sticking around in case we don't find Carol tonight."

           "You don't need insurance for that. I'm not going anywhere." Gene reached over, tugging at a lock of Paul's hair on impulse. "Not that I'm talking you out of it."

           Paul snorted and pushed his hand away, but he was smiling. Just a little. It shouldn't have been distracting—it shouldn't have been more distracting than the thought of Paul as he was right now, in nothing but a short, spaghetti-strap nightgown—but in an odd way, it was. Paul wasn't much of a crier, and he wasn't much of a smiler, not even for magazines and interviews. But when he did, it gave a warm, almost sweet cast to his features. Gene tried to dismiss the thought; he knew he'd been with prettier women, easier, prettier women, but the fact remained. Paul's smile had edged into a less innocent territory in the half-second Gene had spent musing, anyway.

           "I knew there had to be some way to keep you from looking at the price tags," he said, handing Gene his whole stack of purchases.

--        

           Last night, when Ace had said he had a plan, he had cocaine and booze bubbling around in his strangely-resilient system. When Peter had believed him, he'd been drunk or close to it.

           Now, parked in front of Paul's place after over an hour of driving, Peter had to admit Ace's plan would've been great for getting answers—if anyone had actually been there. Unfortunately, that didn't appear to be the case once they got in the driveway.

           "His car's gone. I don't think anyone's over." Despite himself, Peter got out of the car. Ace reached for the drink holder, like he'd forgotten he hadn't brought a beer for the road, before he cut off the engine and followed him out. They stepped up to Paul's front porch together, ringing the doorbell and knocking on the door.

           The first time Peter had headed over there, the girl had been really quick to open up. Gene, too.  Peter let out a frustrated breath, waiting a few more seconds before knocking harder. Nothing. He could see through the glass on the door that a couple of the lights were on in the house, but that didn't mean much. Paul would leave a light on all day, even in his hotel room.

           No, nobody was here. The cardboard box resting just by the door proved it. Paul's mail, evidently. Peter picked it up, frowning at the lack of address or postage. Hopefully none of the neighbors had found out who he was and dropped off weird fan crap. He set the box down before turning to Ace.

           "Why the hell did I let you talk me into this? It's not getting us anywhere!"

           Ace just shrugged.

           "He's gotta come home sometime."

           "Sometime could be six hours from now! At least I get paid for waiting around on tour!"

           "Petey…"

           Ace's idle nonchalance was something Peter appreciated most of the time, as stark a contrast as it was to Paul and Gene's control freak tendencies. Ace seemed like he coasted through life, with nothing but alcohol, his Les Paul, and weird stories about aliens propelling him. Peter had let himself get dragged into Ace's weird, wild hairs sometimes, but usually they were at least exciting. Standing in front of Paul's house and hoping he'd show back up was about as thrilling as three KISS board meetings in a row.

           "You know what the smart thing would've been, Ace?"

           "Calling Paul today? I tried."

           "No."

           "Calling Bill?"

           "No."

           "Calling Hilsen?"

           "Fuck, no. Calling the cops."

           Ace blinked, resting an elbow and a hand against the door as he leaned against it.

           "The cops? That's pretty fucking extreme."

           "For one of those—I don't know. They come to the house and check on you if your husband's a wife-beater."

           Ace tilted his head.

           "Social workers? You wanna get a social worker for Paul?"

           "No! No, that's not it!"

           "I bet they'd find joints in there. No good. It'd be like what's happening to Keith Richards. One big fucking disaster." Ace ran a hand through his hair. Looking at him, Peter wasn't sure if he'd showered after last night. Not that Ace was fantastic about hygiene, but… shit, come to think of it, he'd even missed a few spots shaving. He and Ace both would try and ease into pieces of the tour routine before it swallowed them up. All the annoying shit, like shaving everything. Like getting haircuts (the hair dye was reserved for a couple days before) and wandering around in heels again for awhile, like some bizarre version of a wrestler's training regimen. But Ace looked a bit unkempt. Had Gene's behavior affected Ace that badly? Strange.

           "Doubt it. Paul doesn't toke up by himself." Peter groaned. "Y'know what? Forget it. Forget it. If no one shows up in another ten minutes, we're just going home."

           "You gotta be patient."

           "I've been patient! I've been over twice! You're the one that hasn't done anything until now! You said you had a plan—"

           "You ain't gonna like the rest of the plan."

           "C'mon, there is no rest of the plan! We're staking out his house and wasting our time, that's all this is!"

           Ace shifted from where he was leaning against the door, standing up fully, and dug a hand in his back pocket, pulling out his wallet. Peter watched, expecting him to—what, did he have a key to Paul's?—show him something important, but instead all he did was pull out a credit card and hold it out in front of Peter.

           "What's this for?"

           "Don't leave home without it. Right, Pete?" Ace laughed a little, then leaned over, wedging the card between the space between the door and the lock. Peter stared.

           "Come the fuck on, that's breaking and entering! We can't pull this shit!"

           Ace slid the card back out, frowning, and reangled it. He kept talking, as affably as ever, as he pushed it back in, bending the thin plastic as he worked it into the gap.

           "We've gotta find out what's going on somehow, right? A P.I. would do the same thing."

           "Yeah, but you're not a fucking P.I.!"

           "Nope." He seemed like he was making headway. The door was actually starting to yield a bit. Christ. "But if you're right about Gene, he's screwed up everything for everybody."

           "You and your ifs. I know I'm right about him! Why do you keep defending—"

           "'Cause it's weird, Peter! Gene wouldn't hurt him like that. There's something we're missing!"

           Peter opened his mouth to answer, stopped only by the sound of a car pulling up to the driveway. A car he recognized as Paul's. The driver cut off the engine, and as soon as she got out, he recognized her, too—the girl from before. Paul's girl, the one Gene had stolen—and then Gene got out of the passenger's side. Peter jerked at Ace's sleeve, and Ace turned around, not bothering to pull the card out from between the door and the slat, expression as bland and mild as ever at the sight, as the girl scrambled out to the front porch like a bat straight out of hell, shouting something very, very strange.

           "You bastards! You're breaking into my fucking house!"

[teamironmanforever]

So I sent @datesanddamian an angsty fic rec and had to fix that by whipping up a fast fluffy ficlet.

Figured I may as well share it with y'all too.

--------

He's not quite sure when it happens, or how the hell it happens, but Stephen finds himself forcing his heart to stop hammering in his chest every time he watches Tony work on the suit.

It's unwise, this feeling. He is the new Sorcerer Supreme and Tony is the head of the Avengers. It is a really unwise decision.

And yet he finds himself in Tony's workshop more often than not, with a cup of tea for himself and a strong cup of black coffee and a protein bar for Tony.

The man needs food is the excuse gives himself for the nearly daily trips to see Tony, reasoning that, as a doctor, he really can't watch Tony starve himself due to his work overload. He is the only one aside from Peter and Rhodey with access to the workshop and Peter is at school every day while Rhodey is currently working outside of the US.

So, really, he is just doing his job as Tony's colleague. Friend. Wanna be lover.

Oh god this is a really unwise course of action, and Stephen fucking knows it.

He doesn't know when exactly he fell for the man, but he knew from the first minute he met him that he would. Fall that is.

It is impossible not to, with Tony's charm, brilliant mind, his capability to love, and his ability to surprise Stephen every single time no matter how many futures he has seen of him.

Tony stark is like high grade crack cocaine and Stephen wants to drown in him.

“You alright there Matilda?” Tony asks, noticing the way Stephen's eyes had not moved from his person in over twenty minutes.

The man blinks, cursing himself for retreating so far into his mind. “Perfectly fine,” he says dryly before bringing the forgotten cup of tea up to his lips. “Eat your food.”

Tony snorts, a happy smile gracing his lips as he stands up and grabs the apple Stephen brought him today. It's a bit of an inside joke; an apple a day and all that.

He comes to stand right in front of Stephen and he makes a show of taking a bite, letting some of the apple's juices drip on his chin. He does it to get an eyeroll out of the perfectly prim and proper doctor, to get him to say something along the lines of “don't play with your food.”

But Stephen doesn't do that. Stephen Strange, control freak extraordinaire, simply stares at Tony, his pupils dilating without his permission.

The doctor looks away, trying to concentrate on anything else but Tony, to calm his body and center his mind. He cannot let Tony see… let him know. Because the man will probably do something incredibly stupid when he finds out. He's not blind; he's seen the desire in Tony's eyes before.

But the man is a genius after all, and it takes one bite of a fucking apple a little too close for comfort for him to see what Stephen has known for a few months now.

Tony half chokes on the apple, which immediately has Stephen getting up and hovering near him to help. Tony shakes his head to let Stephen know he's not about to keel over as the Doctor rubs his back after a few rough paths.

He coughs a few more times, using it as an excuse to gel a little close to Stephen. Once he finally feels okay enough to speak he looks up at Stephen, his eyes shining with a mischievous hope that sends Stephen's heart fluttering.

“Anything you want to share with the class, Doc?”

Stephen doesn't roll his eyes, but it's a near thing. “You're insufferable,” he informs Tony as he steps away, half ready to portal himself out of there to save some face.

But Tony reels him in by grabbing his elbow, standing on his tiptoes to press a chaste kiss against Stephen's shocked lips.

“This is where you sweep me off my feet and kiss me senseless,” Tony prompts, his eyes still alight with mirth. “Unless I completely misread the situation? Because if so-”

Stephen can think of no better way to shut the man up than with a hard kiss that has them both stumbling forward, stopping only when Tony is pressed hard against the desk.

“This is a bad idea,” Stephen warns before he nips at Tony's jaw, unable to help himself even as the rational part of his brain screams at him to stop.

“I’ll take my chances,” Tony says finally pressing a gentle hand against Stephen's cheek and that, at last, makes Stephen lose whatever breath he had left in his body.

Because Tony is looking at him like he's something precious and what the bleeding fuck when did this happen? When did they let themselves be swept up by each other. A part of him wants to scream in joy, but a part of him is scared shitless.

Tony must notice it because he kisses Stephen again. “Do you trust me?”

“With my life,” Stephen whispers, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against the other man's.

“Then give us a chance, yeah?”

[ivory-haired-queens-blog]

Unpopular Opinions: Fandom Edition

Hey none of you asked but I’m here to deliver so here are some unpopular opinions for the fandoms I’m in. Spoilers, duh.

Marvel:

I don’t like Natasha. Or Steve.

Pepper Potts is a top.

As much as I love Loki, his death was nessicary in Infinity War.

Steve should have killed Bucky in Civil War. He was a threat, plain and simple.

I ship Ironstrange/Supremefamily.

Clint should have died in Infinity War.

I love Tony Stark with my whole heart. (Not an unpopular opinion but you needed to know that)

I’m not happy with the end of Endgame.

10 years in the making....for you to do Thor like that?

Not because he’s fat or because he’s dealing with trauma, that’s totally acceptable.

What’s not acceptable is them making Thor into the butt of the joke because he’s fat.

I love the Antman movies.

I’m totally not biased because I loved lost.

(I’m kinda biased)

Shuri is the best Marvel character and would beat Tony Stark in a battle of wits.

(I’m so gay I love her.)

With as many years as Marvel has had the MCU, I am disgusted at the lack of diversity within the movies.

Like it’s 2019 and we JUST got a female empowerment scene in Endgame.

Like I want a gay superhero.

(We have a disabled one thank god. Love you Stephen.)

And don’t give me that Valkyrie/Captain Marvel BS because they never blatantly stated or showed it in their movies.

I want an Asian superhero bitch.

A superhero who is Muslim/Islam/and religion besides Christian.

I think that, as much as I hate Natasha and Steve, they should have been the ones that Bruce first sees in Infinity War. I know it set up the whole “earth is closed today” sequence but it didn’t make sense and was OOC.

I love Stephen Strange and he’s never done a single thing wrong ever in his life I would die for this man.

I like MCU Peter Parker over the origional movie Spider-Man.

Fight me.

I also like the Tony Stark/Peter Parker better than the Uncle Ben/Peter Parker so @ me.

The 100

I don’t ship Bellarke that hard.

Like yes, I think they’re obviously being groomed to end up together. I know the show runners will make them official before the end of the series. I’m not mad about that, I just don’t really care to be honest. It’s like, too obvious.

But there are some cute bellarke scenes

What they did to Monty was bullshit but what they did to Jasper was worse.

I feel no guilt whatsoever in saying that I think that killing all of Mount Weather was what they should have done from the beginning.

Yes, even the kids. Because if you kill their leaders, the men and women will fight back. The colony would have been left with a handful of adults, and a bunch of kids if the origional plan had worked. This is doomed to fail and honestly just killing them all would be better than seeing them kill eachother for food, power, whatever. If that makes sense.

I think that Finn deserved to die.

I think that Murphey deserves the world.

Charlotte fucking killed Wells. Yes she’s young but she knows better than to kill someone. Maybe not kill her, but we all know that Clarke wouldn’t have banished her like she did Murphey. Clarke has a gender bias because Murphey didn’t do anything and she wouldn’t have punished Charlotte as hard because she’s a young girl. I rest my case

Even though what he did was bad and wrong, I don’t think Murphey should have been banished. He’s right. They were all compliant and even excited when he was being hung, but when it’s a little girl all bets are off.

Like Bellamy brought the whole hostage thing upon himself because he fucking tied a noose around Murphey’s throat.

Again, not that what Murphey did was right. He didn’t have to act like that. Jasper didn’t do anything to him.

Also this segment is getting long but the show writers and everyone else just casually forgot that Murphey was TORTURED? Hello? Are we not going to acknowledge that?

I shipped Clexa with my whole heart.

Another actually popular opinion: what they’ve done to Raven’s character this season is bullshit. Her only role is Abby’s moral compass. This is the same girl who shuttled to earth in a Tin Can. She’s better than this.

What the fuck??? Happened to??? Jordan???

Like Madi stabbed him

And then they proceeded to not talk about it for like four episodes and then casually mention it in passing like “oh he saved Pria that means he gets to live”

Like they set up his character to be really important this season.

But he’s not.

I think that Murphey/Emori is the best ship.

I also think that Either Murphey or Emori or Both are secretly double crossing the Primes. (This comes out before the finale of season six)

They didn’t have to do Onyia like that

The opening of season three is so weak that I actually stopped watching the show around that time (I’d been watching since the beginning of season two) because there’s just nothing there in the first like 10 minutes and I couldn’t do it.

Maybe I’m just impatient but it’s bad.

I think that Octavia did the best that she could with what she had available and I think that’s she’s not a bad person for what she did with the fighting pits/cannabalism. And I know that if Bellamy had been in her place, he would have eventually done the same.

Kane was a whiny bitch in season 5.

Why’d the kill Diyoza(I can’t spell) like that?

I liked Joesephine. It was really fun to see Eliza Taylor be able to get a new character in the show. Also props to her for that last episode with pretending to be Joesephine and being Clarke at the same time.

I called the dude being Gabriel from the first time I saw him you peasants.

Octavia’s redemption arc this season is beautiful.

They did....that.....to Kane. I’m angerey.

Lost In space

Not enough people watch this show. (The Netflix remake or the origional)

Seriously guys it’s a good show.

Absolutely nothing is wrong with it.

I love Don West with my whole heart.

I love Dr. Smith with my half heart.

I love the robot with my two hearts.

I love Penny Robinson with all the stars in the galaxy.

I love all of them okay.

There are no plot holes, no inconsistencies, no faulty science and anyone who says (or proves) otherwise is wrong.

It’s confirmed for a season two which should air in like the December-February time area.

It’s a Netflix show so you can binge the entire season in like a weekend.

Seriously watch it.

The Umbrella Academy

Five x Delores is weird.

Luther x Allison is illegal.

Klaus deserves all the push pops in the world.

The handler is hot.

The Comission killed Dave.

Luther is the most boring, Unorigional, straight white guy character I’ve seen in a long time. I hate him so much.

Allison is a queen but her character is brought down by her weird relationship with her brother.

Tbh if I was Allison you know I’d be telling my kids that I heard a rumor that theyd go the fuck to sleep. Like that’s a good thing. Idk maybe I’m just a sociopath.

Istanbul not Constantinople being played over a scene where five murders a squad of Commission people is the greatest cinematic masterpiece ever conceived by man.

“Where are you going” “to save the world” “oh is that all?” Iconic.

None of these are really unpopular but the show writers seem to think differently.

Diego has never done anything wrong in his life like yaaaasss bitch kill your brother at yo daddy’s funeral!!! Work!!!

PaTcH

AAaAHh

Big Theif - Mary is the perfect song to play over Klaus returning from Vietnam.

Will you love me, like you loved me in the January rain?

It’s up there with Goodbye July.

Speaking of Goodbye July....

Z Nation

Many people haven’t watched it

It’s like if The Walking Dead and Zombieland had a baby....and then the baby did a line of cocaine.

It’s wild.

Watching Garnet die ruined every sliver of hope I had in humanity.

I have a special place in my heart for this show because it’s the first show that me and my mom would stay up and watch the new episodes air every Friday. It brought us closer and I can’t thank the cast and show runners enough for this.

So maybe I’m biased, but you should watch it.

Having Murphey switch from being an anti-hero to a villain back to an anti-hero and then to a regular hero, amazing. Astonishing. The peak of human existence.

Even though he’s not entirely human.

What color is Murphey today? Is he pale, discolored, grey, blue, red? We don’t know!

Roberta Warren is the Black Goddess main protagonist that we deserve.

Addison Carver is a functional Bi.

10k is tragic backstory central but other than that, his character development is pretty lacking other than him persuing love interests.

None of these are really unpopular opinions but I doubt any of you have watched the show. It’s on Netflix. Watch it.

Oooooohhhhh George.

Georgia St. Clair could stomp me to death and my ghost would still want to fuck her.

Anyways I’m gay

God damn I have a lot of pent up Gay energy.

Murphey and Lucy have a realistic enstranged father/daughter relationship and it’s heartwarming.

And then they killed her off to save him.

Honestly if you name a character Murphey they can only be assholish bad boys with a good heart deep down sorry I don’t make the rules.

Also if you name a character Murphey I will love them with my whole soul.

I’m so mad they cancelled the show.

I’m infinitely more mad that they named that disgrace of a show Black Summer and claimed that it was a prequel....but it didn’t follow the same cast and had they not advertised it as a prequel I would never have guessed.

Black Summer gives totally opposite vibes than Z Nation does. I get that black summer is supposed to be the worst time that the zombie apocalypse ever had, with cannibals and no food, but it feels like s completely different show.

It’s like if The Walking Dead claimed that it is a prequel/occurs during Shaun of the Dead.

Like....no. They’re....no.

Anyway watch it it’s good.

Detroit: Become Human

Connor isn’t the best character.

This is an unpopular opinion post deal with it.

Markus has to be my favorite.

Honestly this game is so good and not even just graphics-wise.

It’s the same robotic sentience story we’ve been fed for years, but this time it’s from the Android’s perspective and this time all they want is to be free. That’s it.

I fucking hate North.

Hank is literally if Rick from Rick and Morty were serious.

The only correct way to play Connor is to walk the thin line between deviant and regular A.I. Without leaving out Hank. The correct thing to do is make Conner deviant at Jericho.

The only correct way to play Kara is to protect Alice with every fiber of your being. Meanwhile, get close to her. Do not get caught, even if that means dissappointing her.

The only correct way to play Markus is to lead a peaceful revolution. Also tell North to fuck off.

The border patrol guy who either gets Kara and Alice caught or knowingly lets Androids cross the border is the best character. Forget about Markus, this guy sees either “oh fuck androids are killing people, maybe we shouldn’t let this one cross the border” or “Androids just want to be free and are peacefully fighting for this. Let this one and her daughter through.” I love him.

LUTHER.

YES DADDY.

anyway.

Let Out The Bear He Just Wants To Say Hi :)

Even though I think Conner is overrated by the fandom, I do like him.

But he’s not a pure innocent cinnamon roll either.

It depends on how you play, but he has really violent options so stop the “He wouldn’t harm a fly” attitude.

But he is cute.

The home screen for the game is revolutionary (no pun intended) and I hope future game follow suit in making the first impression of the game something cool.

Stealing clothes/money/the fence cutters is literally okay.

Also if you put Kara in white hair you can die.

If in your first actual play through you got the Kara lives at the recycling plant ending but Alice dies, you can die too.

I’ve never actually seen the steal money and go to motel option play out because it’s stupid, especially if you don’t steal clothes. Like that’s begging to be caught.

Stranger things

Billy Hargrove is bad and just because he’s abused does not make what he does okay.

Harringrove is gross and I’m gay so my opinion counts as double.

That being said, there are some really cute fics about Harringrove and I can see the appeal of “good boy falls for mysterious bad boy with a dark past and trauma”

I’ve said I’m gay this whole post because I say it a lot, but I don’t like actually labeling myself but I like girls and boys and everything in between and I say I’m gay kinda as a joke when girls are hot.

That being said...

Steve Harrington calling himself Daddy made me feel things.

Strange things.

Haha get it I’m making a joke to distract you from the daddy part.

Steve Harrington is a good person now, but he was still an asshole before and he can still be criticized for his past.

I used to be hardcore Jancy but after season three I feel like Nancy needs and deserves a break from boys so she can figure out herself and who she is now and what she wants to do without the weight of boys and boyfriends constantly around her.

That being said i still don’t like Nancy because she was flirting/slept in the same bed with Jonathan whilst obviously having feelings for him while she and Steve were still a thing. It’s not cheating but to me it’s close enough to raise red flags.

Robin is perfect in every way.

I don’t like Jonathan. He’s creepy in s1, fine in s2, but then is s3 he doesn’t do anything to or about his male bosses when Nancy is being made fun of because she’s a woman.

Seeing Nancy’s class priveledge/Jonathan’s male priveledge clashing was so cool tbh

Elmax > Mileven > Lumax

Jim Hopper, with all his faults, is still a caring dad.

Plus him threatening Mike made me laugh so hard sksksksks

Steve Harrington deserves the world and then some.

Low key I really want s4 to give in insight on his family life.

I also want him to get an apartment with Robin.

Robins cute tbh but for half the season I though she was a Russian spy. I guess I was wrong.

Mrs. Wheeler shouldn’t sleep with billy (not that she can now) because it’s wrong, but the reason she wanted to is because her husband is so boring and she gave up on her dreams to be his perfect housewife. She wanted a challenge with Billy. Instead, she should leave her pushover of a husband and find someone better.

Anyway Steve Harrington deserves the world.

Yeah okay hate me whatever.