#on the bright side i have the daddy issues that make me interesting in bed 🫡😂 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

heavenunderthemoon · 4 years ago

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Olly, Olly, Oxen Free {Hotch x daughter!reader}

Warnings: PLEASE, be advised of the SEVERE mentions of gun violence, murder, death, etc. This is a heavy piece, so please, please, please, do not put yourself at risk to read this, if you would like to know the plot without reading let me know and I will accommodate as best as I can!

This is set in “100″, so, daughter!reader is currently trapped with foyet in her childhood home. Alright, enjoy.

"Y/N."

You sprung from your place on the floor, watching your brother retreat past the living room, his feet happily climbing the old route he used to take in the childhood home he was raised in. You doubted he forgot it so soon, even with his young age. This was the house they had made home. Over the last year, you would've done anything to be back in this house, surrounded by the memories of your past life. The life in which you weren't forced into the witness protection program, abandoning all of your friends due to a serial killer hellbent on destroying your father's life.

Your hand reached out, gently grabbing the cellphone extending from the hands of your mother's.

"Dad."

You forced herself to sound calm, composed. Sitting only ten feet from you was a man who had previously shoved a blade into your father's abdomen just to prove a point. You figured seeming weak wasn't particularly a good idea.

There was the hum of an engine, one that you knew well. When you was younger- much younger- you used to wait up for you father to come home from cases. Most nights you fell asleep before he came back, but on the rare occasion you actually made it past midnight, you could hear that very same hum of his government issued SUV pulling into the driveway, subsequently causing you to dart out of bed to jump into his waiting arms. It never mattered to you that you would receive a scolding from your mother for not going to bed at a proper time, not when you would see the smile that grew on her father's face when you accomplished your goal.

That smile, so rare and so blinding, hardly even captured in pictures. Your father was a tired man, a hardworking man, a dedicated father, but all of his good qualities had hardened into stone from the heat of his job and sometimes you feared that eventually, even you might not be able to crack that tough exterior. It seemed silly, sure, but your mother used to be able to find the chinks in his armor, used to make him laugh and smile and love and then one day she couldn't and who was to say that it wouldn't happen to you too?

"Y/N/N, I love you, you know that?" He used the nickname Jack had accidentally given you. When he was just learning to talk, the boy was unable to fully pronounce your name and you had been stuck with it ever since. You used to hate it- or, at least pretend to, but you could never yell at Jack. The boy was too good at absolutely melting you.

Your father's voice, which was typically strong and gruff, came out a bit cracked. It filled you with a sinking feeling. If your father wasn't composed then how the hell were you supposed to be?

The man who hoisted you on his shoulders every Fourth of July to see the fireworks better, or grabbed every spider that made you scream for your life. The man who taught you how to swing a baseball bat and then immediately yelled because you whacked him right in the knee. A fearless, strong, admittedly taciturn man that was making abundantly clear the ambiguity of your future.

You swallowed down that fear, you couldn't afford to be afraid right now. Y/E/C eyes looked up to your mother. She was still beside you, looking at her daughter as if trying to engrain every single facet of your face in her mind, burning the image of her daughter into her memory.

"I know, I love you too." You didn't know how you managed to keep your voice so even but to anyone listening it sounded like a normal conversation. She could almost imagine they were sitting at a dinner table (something they hadn't done in a year because of the Witness Protection Program).

Pass the salt. She would've said.

"I need you to listen to me carefully, Bug." If you hadn't been so worried that you might die soon you might've found yourself scolding the man not to use that nickname anymore. After your friends had slept over in seventh grade and heard your father use it you were teased relentlessly, but now you didn't mind it. You didn't mind your father using a nickname you hated. You didn't mind a lot of things now that you were facing death, serial killer breathing the same air as you and your mother, standing in your living room, staring at you with cold, calculating eyes.

It's funny how little things matter when death enters the picture.

"Remember when I taught you to drive?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, and you glanced to your mother, trying to keep your face void of emotion.

You hadn't learned to drive. You had begged your father, of course, but he had said no. You remembered the fight that had ensued, his words loud just to overpower your teenaged protests. "There's no use learning to drive when your mother's here, sometimes me, and the metro, it's useless. It would do you better to learn something more useful, like shooting a gun."

Oh.

The sinking feeling returned in the pit of your stomach. Or maybe it just never left. Your eyes hardened with resolve over what you knew her father was asking you to do, and you nodded.

"Yeah."

A tiny breath of air left your parted lips, and even with the confusion laced on her mother's features and the amusement playing on Foyet's, your mind cleared a bit.

Frontside. Trigger press. Follow through.

"I'm a terrible driver." You murmured to her father. Your hand began to sweat at what he was asking of you. You recalled the shooting lessons. It had been a year or so ago, the man wanting you to be prepared for anything and then he had been shot and you hadn't seen him since. Even with the little practice, you hadn't been too bad, but this was nothing like the shooting range. This was pointing a gun at a killer and hoping to anything that was good and holy that you didn't miss. Even so, who said you could get to the gun before Foyet got to you?

"You're good enough."

Good enough. You wanted to scream.

Foyet rose from his spot on the floor, and Haley stiffened in her place.

"I think that's good enough, right, Y/N?" The way he moved, eyes trained onto you, alight with a kind of...mischief? Yes, mischief. Like an adolescent boy who just found his father's stash of fireworks. His body moved like a predator. Refined, sophisticated, and calculated.

And, as he moved closer, you could smell him. He didn't smell like you thought a killer would smell. Though, to be fair, you hadn't ever given much thought to the scent of a killer. Maybe you thought that someone capable of such dirty, heinous crimes would smell as such. Like the rotten core would seep through their pores and become a putrid scent recognizable to those surrounding him. Instead, he smelt clean. Like laundry detergent and freshly washed hair. The hand that didn't hold the gun reached up, taking a strand of your hair into his fingers and running it through them deftly.

"Don't touch me." You pushed him back on instinct and, not seeming to expect such force, the man was shoved back two steps. Rather than cocking the gun right then and there, Foyet looked at you with interest and then, he did something you didn't expect. He smiled.

A laugh fell through his lips. It bubbled and boiled and hit your ears like nails on a chalkboard.

"Wow, you've got a feisty one, Aaron. I think she gets that from you, the old ball and chain over here is a bit of a whiner." He chuckled to himself like he said the world's funniest joke, and you glared.

"Leave them alone." Your father may as well have been on mute because the killer paid no mind to his orders.

He breathed in a deep sigh, looking at you with those same bright, calculated eyes. Then, as if coming to a consensus, tilted his head. "How about this, how about you go hide, I'll give you a head start, and then I'll come find you."

You could feel her mother bristle from beside you, quiet whimpers coming from her mouth. The hum of the engine played in the background, and the wind chimes on the front porch sang a tune with the breeze. "No." You said firmly.

Foyet pouted, going to stand closer to the two. With each step he took closer to the two of you, it felt like a nail going into her coffin. You could see the twitch in his hands, as if itching to plunge a blade into your mother's flesh, yet, you couldn't just leave your mother. You couldn't leave her to die.

"Ah, come on. You're a teenager- a teenage girl, no less, aren't you guys supposed to be fun?" His tone was teasing and coupled with his non-imposing figure, he shouldn't have been able to chill you with his words but the way his eyes bored into yours they did.

You felt a hand on your elbow, a nudge and you glanced back to your mother. Haley was smaller than you, it had been that way for about a year or so now. You had hit a growth spurt once you entered high school, inheriting your father's height, and it caused you to be a couple inches taller than your mother. Her eyes were filled with tears that were streaming down her face without care. You had seen her mother cry more than most daughters should.

Haley liked to cry at night, after putting her children to bed. She didn't think about how often you stayed up, listening to the sobbing on the other side of the wall.

A hand cupped your face, and you leaned into the warmth. How many fights had you two gotten in over the past year? You had always been a daddy's girl. He was never home, and it left your mother to be the 'bad guy' in most situations. And then, you all had been forced to pack up your lives and vanish. That year had been filled with nights of yelling at each other. Fights about small things. Like, your music playing too loud, or drinking too much coffee. And big stuff too. Like, you confronting your mother about having an affair.

Your relationship had been rocky. But, she was still your mother. She still reminded you to wear a coat when it was cold out, or washed your sheets when you felt sick. She made your favorite meals when you were sad, and bought nail polish that she thought you would like. She was your mother, and you didn't think you would ever be able to ignore that.

"Y/N, go." Her words were stern, and it reminded you of a scolding. But your mother's lips were tugging at the corners, and she was caressing your cheek so softly that you thought you would collapse right there. Your heart clenched at the sight of your mother.

Would this be the last time you saw her? The thought made you want to scream, cry, and punch something all at once.

For the first time that afternoon, you let your mask slip. Your eyes welled with tears, lip trembling. "Mom, no." it came out shaky, and you didn't have to turn around to see Foyet smiling at the way he could make an entire family fear for their lives in a mere couple of minutes. You could simply feel it.

Haley nodded, both her hands cupping your face now, scanning it over and over again. Your eyes, a fierceness to them that mimicked her own. A button nose that sat above rosy pink lips. On your chin, a small scar. You were an adventurous child. You hadn't been afraid to climb the monkey bars despite being far too small for them and when you had fallen off, you had busted the skin open. Haley remembered being panicked, seeing you covered in blood, rushing you to the hospital, to find that you were calmer than she was. That's how you always were. You were never scared. You were brave and fearless and kind and even if you played awful, punk alternative music that made Haley's ears want to bleed, you were such a sweet girl with a big heart. The mother stood on her tiptoes, kissing your forehead.

You let your eyes flutter shut for a moment, trying to burn the memory of her mother's lips on your forehead in your mind. And when you opened them again, you tried to burn the image of your mother as well. Even now, red eyed and sniffling, your mother was beautiful. Everyone always told you, you looked just like your mother. Haley used to have blonde hair. It had passed her shoulders and you used to beg her to play hair salon because of it. She had cut it after the divorce and you had a suspicion that it was because she craved change. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, just like yours. It made her skin pull taut when she smiled. Her nose was soft and dainty- something you had always been jealous of.

What if you never saw your mother smile again?

Haley was nodding, nodding and patting the girl's cheek and it took you a moment to realize she was speaking once more. "Go, baby. I'll be okay."

No, you won't. You wanted to say. You wanted to let your body fall into your mother's arms and have the woman hold you like she did when you were a child. You wanted to feel your mother's hands run through your hair and hear the woman sing you to sleep. You didn't care how childish it seemed, you just wanted your mother.

Your shoulders shook and you fought to keep your emotions from consuming you.

"I- I love you." It was a desperate attempt at closure but it did nothing to make you feel better. It only made your mother smile.

"I love you too." Haley gave one final pat before a light shove and you felt numb. You couldn't feel yourself hand the phone to your mother, nor could you feel your feet move in the desired direction. Everything in you felt like it was simultaneously being doused in cold water and burned in hot flames. Your mind kept screaming at you to go back. Turn around, grab your mother and hope for the best but you could hear Foyet talking with your mother now and she knew that your father had told you what to do next.

It was weird.

All the nights you had spent in that stupid witness protection program, closing your eyes imagining you were back in your childhood home. You would pretend you were back in your room, waiting for your father to come home. You would pretend your mother was putting Jack to sleep and you would pretend that everything was normal. Now you were back and everything was wrong.

Focus.

After teaching you how to properly use a gun, Aaron had told you where one could be found in cases of dire emergencies. Your feet stepped lightly, moving as swiftly as you could. The laces on your converse slapped against the sides of the shoes and you silently pulled open your father's nightstand. It hadn't been touched since you all had moved out. It was normal upon first glance. A couple of papers, reading glasses, sleeping pills. You knew better.

You pulled at the string on the bottom, the false top giving in immediately and revealing the silver .38. You grabbed for it, cocking it as quietly as you could. The weapon was heavy, yet, familiar in your hand. You thought that in a time like this you would be more shaky, but all you could focus on was your mother's quiet sobs from the living room a whole story down.

The sound gave you hope. If she could cry, then she was alive. You pushed on with that thought in mind, rounding the corner. Just before you could head back downstairs and possibly take down Foyet, you heard it.

Gunshots.

Your mother cried out the first time, but it was completely silent after the second two. Just the light thud of a body hitting the floor.

You bit down on your cheek to keep herself from screaming. The taste of blood followed soon after. Your hand rose to your mouth, attempting to muffle the cries that attempted to escape.

"Y/N!" A sing song-y voice called out. There was a thumping sound on the stairs and after a sickening moment, you realized it was the sound of your mother's body hitting the wood. He was dragging her up the stairs, wanting to display her just how he liked. Your eyes burned and you let the tears fall down your cheeks without care. They dripped off your chin, falling onto your shirt. It was a band t-shirt. Your mother hated it, said that the swords were too violent, but she allowed you to wear it anyways.

You darted into the closest door- Jack's old room- eye's scanning your surroundings for a plan. Whatever Foyet was doing, you knew you didn't have much time until he was coming after you.

"I just wanna play, Y/N. Come out, come out wherever you are." He sang out. He must've taken your mother- your mother's body, you corrected yourself bitterly- to your parents bedroom. With a chilling realization, you remembered you had been there only moments before. He was close to you.

Your eyes landed on the closet, overflowing with toys, even months after not being in use. Jack tended to get whatever he asked for- not that he was spoiled, he was just hard to say no to. It wasn't difficult to squeeze into it, leaving the door open a crack. The gun sat in your hands ready and waiting.

You steadied the sound of your breathing.

How was you going to tell Jack about mom? Well that was a bit optimistic, now, wasn't it? Presumptuous of you to think you would live through the next five minutes to be able to tell your little brother that our mother was dead, You thought bitterly.

"I think I'll lay your body right next to your Mom. You'd like that, wouldn't you? So you can be together?" He was in the hallway, and even with the barrier of Jack's door and the closet door, the sound of his voice made you shiver. It was smooth, charming, even. If you hadn't known he was a complete psychopath you wouldn't have given the man much thought. You wouldn't have thought him capable of doing the heinous acts he had done.

There was a creak, the door opening to the room and your arms rose slightly. Your eyes were peaking through the crack, your heart racing. You could see the man moving into the room, searching for his next prey- and that's what he thought you were. Prey. He thought you were an easy target. Everyone did.

Everyone thought you were just some stupid kid. Some people said it outright and others just assumed. You could tell when you first met your father's team, some of them had stereotyped you as well. They had asked her about school and about boys and gossip, because they assumed that was all you were capable of speaking about and then you had surprised them by mentioning books and Neo-noir films. You were accustomed to being underestimated. And you were betting your life that George Foyet was doing the same.

As soon as you saw the man move into the middle of the room, you sprung. The door flew open and before you could hesitate, you pulled the trigger. Pure shock could've been the reason, you were able to get out of the room. Or perhaps you had managed to shoot him in the head and end your family's suffering once and for all. You weren't sure because you were moving purely on instinct. Your feet carried you through the house, jumping over toys and broken chairs and bloodstains that weren't there before.

"You bitch!"

Okay, so he was alive. He was chasing after you but you didn't look back. You jumped into the linen closet, out of breath but not allowing yourself to pant as you wanted to. You could hear the slight groans of the man as he made his way through the house, though it was farther, as if he was walking in the wrong direction. You had slowed him down, that's for sure. The gun in your hand felt warm, like a pat on the back, but the thought of your mother's dead body lying somewhere in the house sat in the back of your mind.

Where was Jack? You thought briefly. You had to trust that he was safe. Trust and pray that whatever their dad had said to him had made sense. You hoped he couldn't hear anything that was going on. That he didn't hear the sound of your mother being murdered and you shooting the killer.

You felt the towel shelf press into your back, but you didn't dare move anymore. You were sure Foyet hadn't died now. If anything, you might've made him more angry.

It smelled like fresh laundry in the small space and it reminded you of Sunday nights. Your father was usually home, cases typically being taken during the week and coming home Saturday nights. That's why you liked Sundays so much. You liked waking up to the smell of pancakes while your father played a Beatles album. He would sing into a spatula and twirl your mother around the kitchen. And Haley would laugh and tell him to stop, but she never actually meant it. And, when he noticed you coming down the stairs, he would take you in his arms- no matter how big and tall you had gotten, he never stopped doing it. He would spin you around as well and when you was little you would dance on his feet, but when you were older, your bare feet would touch the cold hardwood floor.

Your mother would do crossword and pretend not to notice that your father was giving not-so-subtle hints every so often. Your father would have you catch him up on what you had been up to that week, and you would have to help Jack read through the comics because he didn't really understand the jokes. Sundays were your favorite days because instead of being a separate family like they were every other day, they were all together and it felt normal.

You closed her eyes, trying to imagine it was Sunday.

A large clatter rang out, effectively snapping you from your thoughts. You could hear footsteps, fighting, yelling. It was hard to tell how long you waited in the closet, gun pressed to your chest. You could hear someone outside the door, light footsteps against hardwood.

The light on the bottom was obscured from a large shadow and you tried to prepare yourself. What would death feel like? Maybe you was selfish, or maybe you were a coward, but you didn't want to know. You wanted to stomp your foot and say that it wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that your mother was dead. It wasn't fair that you were about to die. The door was ripped open and you extended your arms, about to shoot blindly, when you saw who was before you.

"Woah, hey, Y/N. Y/N, look at me."

You had stopped crying long ago, but your entire body was shaking. There was so much tension in your shoulders, it felt like somebody had tied you up entirely, slowly but surely squeezing the life out of you. You hadn't realized it before, much too focused in getting as far away from the serial killer in your house as possible, but when you had shot Foyet, some of his blood had splattered onto you. You could see it now that the light was on it. It sat on your hands, partially dried and partially wet. And you could feel some of it on your cheeks.

You wondered what you looked like.

Derek stared at you. Your eyes were wild, darting between the gun in your hands and the gun in Derek's. Your cheeks, flushed as they were, were painted lightly with splattered blood. The only evidence of previous tears were puffy eyes, but you hardly seemed weak right now. You seemed...feral.

"Y'N, it's me. You're safe. it's me, it's Derek. Put that gun down." It was strange. It was like you could see his lips moving, you could see that he was speaking but you couldn't hear the words. All you could hear was the sound of your mother's body hitting the stairs one at a time.

Thump.

"He's dead. Y/N, he's dead." The sound came back all at once. Everything came back all at once.

You could see people behind Derek. There were cops and medical examiners, flooding in and out of your childhood home. They all seemed to be moving toward the same place, all in the direction where you had fled. They were heading toward the body, you realized. The body of your dead mother. There was the faint sound of sirens, and there was chatter. You wanted to yell at them, scream for them to be quiet. And then you saw someone else.

Your father was coming toward you. He was covered in blood. Who's blood was that? Was that your mother's? Was that Foyet's? Movement caught your eye.

JJ was holding someone in her arms, he looked confused, pointing at his sister, eyes alarmed at the weapon in her hands and the Jaraeu woman seemed to be trying to turn him away. He was asking for you.

'Y/N/N?' He said.

Your shoulders dropped, the weapon falling into the Morgan man's waiting hands. You stepped forward. Despite your sudden awareness, everything felt like it was in slow motion. The world was moving with resistance, and you opened her arms, almost crumpling in relief when Jack squirmed away from the blonde agent and ran into your waiting arms. You scooped him into your arms, sitting him on your hip.

"Y/N!" Despite all the chaos around you two, you let yourself focus on your brother. He seemed fine. Confused, surely. He had looped his arms around your neck but his eyes squinted at the blood on your cheeks that hadn't been there before. His little eyebrows furrowed, and he reached one hand to poke your cheek. "Are you okay, Y/N?"

Jack loved you. Before you two were put into witness protection program, he didn't see you all too much. You were so busy with school and hanging out with your friends, that you hadn't even been home very often. Then, you didn't have much of a choice.

You liked showing Jack your music- the clean versions, of course. He would scrunch his nose at certain metal heavy bands, but you assumed he liked most of them just because you did. He liked to play cards with you, and have your draw him funny sketches. And when he would have bad dreams, you never hesitated to let him sleep with you.

You felt multiple sets of eyes on you, your father pulling you into a hug. They all pretended not to notice you flinch. You kept your eyes on Jack.

"I'm fine." You took a hand, running it through the boy's ruffled hair from hiding god knows where. He giggled at the action, and you let your hand rest on his cheek for a moment. Your mother was dead somewhere in this house, her body laid across the floor, slaughtered. You swallowed down the rising bile in your throat.

"Let's get you checked out, yeah?"

#aaron hotchner x reader #Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader #criminal minds x reader #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #Criminal Minds

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uchiharomance · 3 years ago

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kakuzu: thread bed

@mytanuki-kun,

“I can’t sleep in here.”

Your boyfriend only grunts in reply.

You know what he’s thinking, as clearly as if he’d said it aloud.

“Better than the rain.”

Hardly.

The cave is small, damp, and cold. Probably filled with bugs, if you could see them in the dim light. Definitely less than a suitable place to bed down for the night given the various dripping rock formations hanging from the roof and the jagged bits of rock rising from the ground in spots.

‘Kakuzu,” you begin, turning to him and clutching at his robe with one hand. “Are you sure there isn’t a town nearby?”

“You were the one who wanted to come.”

Stubborn, smug man.

“Because I wanted to tag along with you Kakuzu, but I’m not a ninja like you, I’m not use to this.”

You sighed and pressed your face into the fabric, breathing in his scent that clung there despite the wetness. A flash of lightning touched down somewhere on the ground below and for a moment Kakuzu’s face was fully illuminated; solemn and dark as usual, eyes fixed on some unseen point in the distance.

“You could at least let me borrow this,” you tried again, wrapping your arms around him. “It’ll be soft at least.”

“Hmm.”

Despite yourself, you giggled at the vibration of Kakuzu’s rumble, a laugh that quickly became a soft gasp as he turned and detached his hand from his wrist, multiple, thick black cords shooting from his body and falling in rows onto the stone floor.

Immediately you let go of him, all but flinging yourself onto the soft material and rolling over to relish in the way it seemed to mold itself around your very body.

“Thank you so much!” you cried, stretching your arms and legs.

“Quiet down now.”

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play it.

Sitting back up you let your own cloak sip from your shoulders with a small sigh.

“It’s more comfortable,” you mused. “but still kinda cold. Aren’t you tired? You could come lay with me, for a while.”

Kakuzu’s bright eyes rolled to study you and you let out another sigh, pulling at your shirt.

“I’m just saying, it could warm us both up if we - “

With another flash of lightning, Kakuzu was over you, pressing you back down into the soft threading as he studied your red face.

“You make far too many demands for such a little woman with no way to pay me,” he breathed, reaching up to pull down the mask fixed about his mouth. “You should know better than to tempt me to join, if you hope to sleep that is.”

Despite his words Kakuzu’s interest slipped out as a large tentacle appeared at his back, tossing his cloak to this side before moving down to your waist, tip flickering into your clothes to tease at your thighs.

“I do have one way to pay you,” you giggled,as another thread brushed against your cheek. “and I don’t mind a little less sleep if you don’t.”

A hint of a moan escaped you as another thread circled your breast before ghosting against your lips.

“Please ... daddy?”

The growl that sprung from Kakuzu issued in your ears louder than the thunder outside and you all but squealed with glee as the threads became desperate in their actions, effortlessly stripping you under his gaze.

“Don’t expect me to carry you tomorrow,” he said, laying a large hand on your stomach as he bent to capture you in a kiss. “No matter how sore you are.”

#kakuzu x reader

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giorno-plays-piano · 4 years ago

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Promises

Hi dear! As agreed, I’ve changed it to dad’s friend!Bucky <3 Hope you’re going to enjoy this!

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, age gap, daddy kink, allusion to non-con, death of minor characters.

Words: 3000.

_______________________

Looking at the lonely chocolate muffin laying on the table in front of you, you closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, making a wish: it was your birthday, and you were stuck in some filthy roadside diner with no one but Mr. Barnes by your side.

Bucky. You were ought to call him Bucky, you reminded yourself, opening your eyes and blowing softly on a single candle sitting on the top of your muffin.

It wasn’t his fault you two ended up here - there had been a huge accident on your way back home, a tanker truck exploded into flames in the middle of the highway. In fact, you were lucky you were far away since several drivers and passengers who had the misfortune to be close to the truck had already been declared dead. It was all over the news, most of the people inside diner glued to the old TV hanging on the wall.

Staring at the candle, you carefully pulled it off and dropped it on a cheap white napkin, taking the muffin and eagerly having a bite. Mr. Barn... Bucky watched you from the other side of the table, his coffee already long cold. There was no smile on his face as you quietly said thank you to him, but you barely remembered him smiling at all despite knowing him for several years at the very least. He was your dad’s friend, and he often visited your house to share a beer and watch hockey with your dad late in the evening. Who could imagine it would be Bucky of all people helping you stay afloat.

“What did you wish for?” He asked you, and chuckled grimly at him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Apparently, you had to keep it a secret to make your wish come true, but it didn’t matter now.

“To have a family.”

You gulped down a sob and stared at the red table as Bucky reached out to pat your shoulder gently. Both of you knew what you meant, but you had no strength to talk about it again. It was still painful as hell.

“It will get better.” He said quietly as you nodded, wiping away your tears and gulping down your coke. “You need time.”

Yeah, time, that was what everyone around you kept saying as if time could change the fact you were all alone now; as if it could make you forget all that happened and keep the pain away. What could time do? Make you insensitive, unsympathetic, and unable to feel anything at all. All this time could probably do to you, sure.

He bought a couple of ham sandwiches and bottles of coke for the evening and left with you following him closely. The motel room was just as dirty as the diner, but you didn’t expect anything else, preparing to cleaning it up - anyway, there wasn’t much you could do around here. Although there were lots of people stuck here along with you two, you had no wish to go talk to them about the tragedy. You had your own already, and it was enough for you.

“Your uncle looks scary on this photo.” Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you picked it up, reading the message from April, your best friend - your only friend, to be completely honest. “Like he’s straight out of those serial killer documentaries.”

“April, come on."

"what, I'm serious lol"

"Maybe he’s not your sunshine guy, but he’s the only one who stayed with me after all that happened."

"And he is NOT my uncle!”

“sorry girl just wanted to cheer you up”

You smiled at the text, missing Bucky’s gaze as he came closer to you.

“Who’s that?” He asked, and you raised your eyes at him, immediately getting back to your grim state.

“April. She saw the photo I sent her.” Explaining quietly, you tried pretending you were happy, stretching your lips in a thin smile and thinking whether Bucky could feel it. “She’s checking on how we are here.”

“Good.”

With that he left to bathroom, leaving you on your knees scrubbing the floor. He was bad at cleaning - really bad, missing tons of dirty spots to the point it felt like he didn’t clean anything at all. That was why you preferred doing it yourself. Besides, it was him who paid for the room and food despite you trying to share the expenses, so you felt obliged to him.

Bucky certainly wasn’t the most talkative or friendly type, but he still cared about you, supporting you the way he could. Even if he was way older than you, and a part of you still didn’t feel very comfortable around him, Bucky was the only one by your side. He agreed living with you when most of your relatives had little interest in staying even for a few days longer, leaving you all alone. He helped you with all the legal stuff you knew nothing about, never having to deal with these issues before. He gave you a drive to your university campus every morning and called you every time when you were supposed to come home, probably afraid you’d do something to yourself. That was what you thought, at least.

He was a good man. Maybe a little gruff, seemingly unfriendly, intimidating even, but still better then all those who promised to look after you and then vanished.

“I’m going to go for a walk.” Bucky said after leaving bathroom and putting his sneakers on. “Will you be okay by yourself?”

You felt shame bubbling up inside you at his words. He still thought you might be suicidal.

“Of course. I’ll be waiting here.”

With that he nodded and left you alone with a bright pack of Lysol and dirty doormat on the floor. Sighing, you felt relieved, finally staying all by yourself in the grim silence of the room. It wasn’t that bad. You weren’t stuck together somewhere in the desert with no food and shelter. Tomorrow morning you’d be able to return home from that little improvised vacation Bucky organized purely for you, staying in a cabin close to the beautiful lake in the woods. It wasn’t his fault you were spending your birthday like this, scrubbing the floor clean and wiping the dust from shelves and nightstands instead of celebrating somewhere in the club with April, drinking fancy cocktails.

In half an hour you finished the clean up and had a shower, changing into your funny pink pajamas - you knew your looked pathetic in it, considering how old it was, but it was one of the things that made you feel safe. Anyway, Bucky didn’t care about the way you looked, so you simply wore whatever you found comfortable, often looking like a kid who was too big to fit into their old clothes.

“Whatcha doin??” A message popped up on the screen as you checked your phone again.

“Gonna go to sleep, I guess. I didn’t sleep well yesterday again.”

“i have a gooood recipe for a nice 8-hour sleep”

“Really? What’s that?”

Instead of answering you clearly, she sent you a link. To your horror, instead of checking the name first you simply clicked on it and found out April sent you some porno. Groaning, you quickly turned it off, afraid somebody gonna hear it - the walls here were out of paper, you could swear.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?” You typed furiously. “Are you mad?”

“come on, what are we, holy virgins?? Ima telling you, this thing works! Just try it, you’ll be sleeping after this in no time!”

“April, even if I’m gonna believe this crap, Bucky just went for a walk. I have no clue when he’s going to come back. Do you really think I’m ready to do this when he’s around?”

“damn girl just don’t put earphones, cover yourself with a blanket and sit facing the door.” You could literally see her rolling her eyes at you. “you’re a grown up, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. When you hear the man coming, just turn it off!”

Rubbing your eyes tiredly, you muted your phone and carefully opened the link again, trying to understand what kind of porno she sent you exactly. Apparently, it was that daddy thing she kept telling you about - you read the name of the video, and your face grew unbearably hot in a second. Damn, this girl had no shame whatsoever.

But maybe she was right: you needed to release some tension that had been building up over the last months. It was quite an innocent way to do it, really, and you’d be careful enough to do it before Bucky came back, finding anything suspicious. You were a human being, after all! There was nothing nasty in what you were going to do, you tried assuring yourself.

“I’m gonna regret it.”

“NO GIRL YOU WON’T! Treat yourself!!”

Laughing, you quickly dropped your phone on your bed, taking a tablet out of your backpack along with a pair of pink socks - you couldn’t explain it, but your feet were always getting cold while you pleasured yourself. Getting comfortable on your bed and wrapping a comforter around yourself, you opened your tablet, setting the volume level low and finding that link April sent you. You threw a quick glance to the door, prepared to switch the tablet off any second if Bucky was going to show up. Shoot, were you doing it for real? Yes, yes you were.

Opening the video, you bit down on your lower lip, a little ashamed still. Trying to get these thoughts out of your head, you concentrated on what was happening in the video, watching a girl sitting on the lap of a beefy bearded man stroking her ass. He was speaking to her softly, but in a very low, husky voice, and you realized it was getting warm in between your thighs. You closed your eyes, listening to the voice that, along with a sound of him slapping the girl, was making you aroused way more than the picture itself.

"Have you been good, princess?" The man whispered, and you could see the smug grin on his face even with your eyes closed.

Yes, you have, you thought, your hand slowly trailling down your belly and touching the elastic of your cotton panties.

Fuck, you heard the sound of one more slap and bit your lip again, imagining it was you he spanked, caressing your raw, hot skin with his calloused palm, his fingers digging in your soft flesh when you tried moving away, quietly squirming from his touch. You were a good girl for him. You'd do what your daddy told you, baring your ass in front of him and getting back on his lap, moving on top of him, making him feel you through the fabric of his pants until you ruined them. Would daddy be happy if you rode him, moaning like some dirty slut until he shut you with his mouth? Would he like you cumming on his cock with your eyes rolling inside your skull out of immense pleasure?

With your fingers on your clit, you gently stroked that bundle of nerves, getting more and more wet until you soaked your panties, listening to the voice of that man and imagining being with your own daddy, somebody who would take care of you, somebody who would never leave you alone and comfort you when you needed it the most. Oh, were you crying, thinking of it? You could feel your eyes growing wet as you softly moaned. You imagined the man touching your hair and kissing your forehead, and tears were now streaming down your cheeks.

You were pathetic, you thought. You couldn't even pleasure yourself while watching porno anymore.

Softly sobbing, you kept listening to the video, touching your sleek folds and missing the shadow that descended upon you - you couldn't see the stranger behind the window, watching you sitting there on your bed with a tablet in front of you, seeing the video clearly. Maybe Bucky couldn't hear it from the outside, but he knew it - he saw it a couple of weeks ago when he felt a little lonely.

You almost cummed when you heard the steps right outside the door, inmediately hitting the screen to stop the video and hiding your tablet beneath the comforter. You didn't figure out anything better than pretending you were already asleep, aside from the fact it was barely seven.

Covering your head, you prayed Bucky didn't see anything suspicious, mentally cursing April for sending you the link. Shit, you knew this wasn't going to end well! Why on Earth did you even tried something as reckless and stupid as this when Bucky could show up any minute?

"I know you're not sleeping."

His voice sounded so much closer than you anticipated that you almost flinched, holding your breath for a couple of seconds. Fuck, did he know? Did he hear you? Could he see the tablet beneath your blanket?

You stilled, still pretending you were sleeping when Bucky landed close to you, the bed dipping under him. When he suddenly touched your leg, making you flinch involuntarily, you clamped a hand around your mouth. Shit! What was he doing? He had never ever touched you like that before. Was he mad? Did he-

"You can stop pretending, little one." As Bucky lifted your comforter, you stared at him, terrified to the core with your eyes almost popping out of their sockets.

Immediately, you tried moving away, determined to get to the other side of the room, but he quickly held you down with his hands on your wrists, getting on top of you. Shit. Staring at his dark but calm expression, you saw a strange glint in his eyes that had never been there before. The thought made you shiver.

Something was wrong with the way he hold you, looked at you - it was not like before when he treated you like some sad kid, patting your head awkwardly when you cried and rarely giving you a hug. You were staring at the man who barely reminded you of Bucky who had been coming to your house to watch a hockey game late in the evening. This man seemed like a stranger.

"Please, Mr. Barnes-"

"Shhhh." He interrupted your pleading, leaning closer to you so his dark hair brushed against your face. "Don't be scared. It's alright."

No, no, it wasn't alright in any sense, and you kept struggling, doing your best to break free from his grasp until Bucky made you yelp from pain, grabbing your hands so hard you thought you'd have bruises. When you got silent, trembling beneath him with your eyes full of tears, he got closer, his forehead touching yours as he exhaled into your face.

“P-please, I don’t want to.”

“Don’t you? I’ve seen what you’ve been doing while I was gone.” His stormy grey eyes bore into you, and you thought Bucky was angry at you watching that filthy porno. “But I won’t punish you.”

“What do you want then?” You sobbed, then froze when he kissed your cheek, and then your nose and eyelids, his chapped lips brushing softly against your skin. His touch felt warm.

“To take care of you.”

You looked at him with your watery eyes, whimpering softly when Bucky kissed your forehead as you relaxed beneath him, shocked at his words. Take care of you? What did he mean by that? Wasn’t he taking care of you already? No, now you knew why Bucky was close, and he definitely wasn’t some good Samaritan you imagined him to be. Was it all for this? Did he pretend to be your friend just to let you lower your guard?

Crying, you closed your eyes, thinking how silly you were wanting someone to be by your side, having dreams about someone taking care of you, comforting you when even the one you thought was there for you just wanted to use a silly little girl and throw her away.

“Take what you want and go.” You managed to mumble, choking on a sob. “Just leave me alone.”

Bucky raised his brows, his gaze heavy as he stared at your face wet with tears. “Why would I? Didn’t you hear what I just said, little one?”

You gave him a sarcastic smile, avoiding looking him in the eyes. “You’re here because you want to take something from me. So, take it and go. Please!”

Bucky let out a loud breath, getting off you and rolling to the side, but holding you close and pressing your face into his chest. You could feel a subtle smell of sweat coming from him; strangely, it was almost comforting. Anyway, you had no strength left to fight him, so you just laid there, his hands on your back and in your hair. His black zipped hoodie was quickly getting wet with you still sobbing quietly.

“I’m not going anywhere, little girl.” He whispered, touching the top of your head with his lips. “You’re mine to take care off. Look at you, barely able to sleep on your own. How do you think you will manage without me?”

You didn’t answer, not knowing what to say. What Bucky told you was true - you barely existed outside of your house, facing the reality where you were always alone. April was trying her best to help you come to your senses, but she wasn’t family. You needed a family.

“Will you stay?” You whimpered, shaking lightly at the though Bucky would go, too, and you would end up all by yourself, talking to four walls until one day they would talk to you, too.

“Remember your birthday wish?” He asked instead of answering your question, and you felt like the air was sucked out of your lungs. But before you had time to said something, Bucky dropped a kiss to your forehead again, caressing your head tenderly. “I am your family, little one. You will never be alone.”

______________________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @abyssaint @heeeyitskay @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @ninefuckingoneone @iheartsebastianstan @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

#dark bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #winter soldier #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #catws #yandere #requests #bucky barnes x reader

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nightingale-interactive · 3 years ago

Note

What’s something that a complete stranger could say to the RO that might genuinely hurt them (if anything)?

Christian: “At least you have a pretty face.”

Wincing internally, Christian plasters a fake smile on his face as he shakes the reporters hand. Part of him not believing that she would have the gall to say such a thing to his face. While another part of him wasn’t even surprised at all. The reporters in this city were just as bloodthirsty as the politicians. Waiting in the background until they were able to rip and tear; scavengers through and through.

As he steps away, the cameras blinding him, he couldn’t stop the sentence from echoing in his mind. At least you have a pretty face.

At least you have a pretty face…

Scabby knees. A smile with a missing front tooth. A curly mop of hair. Joy exuding from him as he held out the project he had been tirelessly working on.

“Happy Father’s Day, daddy!”

Cold blue eyes barely glancing at the project before there was a simple pat on his head. Daddy already losing interest as he began reading.

“At least you have a cute face.”

Alcina: “How can anyone stand to be with you?”

A cold smile appears on Alcina’s face as a withering glare appears in icy emerald eyes. Anger raging, lashing, in her chest as she fights to maintain her composure. Her hand clenching at her side— nails digging into her palm— as she issues one last biting retort.

“I’m certain I could ask your wife that same question, Senator.”

Without waiting for his response, she turns and walks towards the complete opposite side of the room. But it wouldn’t be far enough. She could already feel the way her skin was itching. Crawling as familiar fears begin to make themselves known in her mind.

How can she put up with me?

Emerald eyes moving across the room.

Searching.

Looking for the one face that would put her at ease immediately.

Meeting her gaze settles her but the dark thought still lurks.

How?

Stephen: “You’re not too bright, are you?”

The warm smile that had previously been on his face as the words register. A look of confusion forming on his face as he watches the figure retreat back into the crowd.

He didn’t understand what he had done wrong. Was sharing his opinion that wrong? Especially when it was asked?

Was his opinion stupid? Did it truly reflect on his intelligence? Something he has always strived so hard to prove. To show that he was more than most thought of him.

Shaking his head, Stephen tries not to dwell. To not let the words of one asshole affect him so.

Even though he knows he would be thinking about it while he lies awake in bed.

Quinn: “You failed.”

The harsh statement causes them to shift back. Gray eyes staring at the ground as their shoulders hunch. They already knew that they had. That the job had been simple and that they had messed it all up.

They didn’t need a reminder.

Didn’t need to get told over and over what they already know.

Closing their head, they try to suppress the urge to lower themselves even more. To make themselves smaller so they could match how they were feeling. Anything to get away from the accusing glares and the statement that follows them everywhere.

You failed.

#scandal #christian anderson #alcina anderson #stephen beckett #quinn matthews #anonymous #angst #all aboard the angst train

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eideticmemory · 4 years ago

Text

FINE LINE | SPENCER REID

Two decades and two children later, you and your ex-husband learn to navigate the world of co-parenting.

Word Count: 2,604.

Warning: Daddy issues, mommy issues, angst, drama, romance. Love to see it.

You could feel it. The light illuminating your face, touching it with a gentle heat that made your eyes flutter open. Your head felt heavy, as if your neck was attempting to support the weight of a canon ball. You rested your skull on the back of the chair you sat in, eyelids dropping just above your irises. Just in the distance, you could make out a cinema screen. Large, blurry, projecting a bright white screen.

Her image appeared in the center of the square, perfect, in place, still. But you could make out the grin on her face. Watching her dark red lips release the words, “Hello, sleepyhead.”

You could just barely muster up the strength to part your lips, pushing out a small gust of air. It was hot and made your mouth feel like it was on fire.

“H—“

“Oh,” she interrupted you, gently, quietly. You jumped at the feeling of her touching your arm, her palm tight around your forearm. She was cold, freezing, but you could still feel warmth radiating off of her. “I’m afraid you can’t stay too long this time. It’s time to wake up.”

“Hm?” You whined. “Mm?”

“Wake up,” she repeated. “C’mon, wake up. Wake up, wake up, wake u—“

“Up!”

You jolted, violently, harshly, your eyes springing open to reveal the usual sight of your bedsheets.

“Mom, wake up,” an exasperated voice sounded from beside you, the words catching your attention instantly. Tightly.

“Huh?” You mumbled, flickering your eyes up to the figure at your side, sitting on your bed, looking at you with a concerned stare. “Hm?”

“Are you alright?” Eden asked. Sunlight shone on her face, giving her the appearance of an angel. Sent to wake you, pull you back into reality. “What were you dreaming about?”

You let out a long sigh, as if you could even begin to explain your subconscious mind to your 15-year-old daughter. “Oh, y’know,” you whispered, sitting yourself upright and resting back against the headboard. “Just...lions, and tigers, and bears.”

“Oh my,” Eden responded, her big brown eyes concentrated on your face.

You chuckled underneath your breath, and let out a quick huff. “Oh, shoot, is your brother up?”

“He’s up, he’s dressed, he’s fed, and reading the Illiad.”

“Oh?” You stepped out of bed, pulling the duvet over your legs to reveal your pajama pants. “What happened to War and Peace?”

“He finished that yesterday.”

“He gets quicker every hour,” you shook your head.

“It’s a genius thing,” Eden shrugged. She fiddled with the ends of her hair, watching the strands brush over her fingers as she chewed her lip. “Hey, mom?”

“Yeah, kid?” You replied, standing in the bathroom mirror as you began to get ready for the day.

“You—you know dad, right?”

You stopped in your tracks, any and all movements coming to a halt. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you spun on your heels, slowly, until you came face to face with Eden. “Uh . . . your dad?”

“Yes.”

“Tall? Long, brown hair? Hazel eyes? Has a birthmark on his right thigh?” You listed, toothbrush hanging from your mouth.

“Ew,” Eden cringed. “Yes.”

“Never met him in my life,” you shrugged.

“Mom.”

“Kid,” you tilted your head, face softening as you realized how nervous she was. “What’s up?”

She sighed, ducking her head down to avoid eye contact. “I invited him to my sweet 16.”

“Oh.” It came out like reflex. You said the word before you could fully process the information.

“Are you mad?”

“No—huh? E,” you rushed to sit beside her. “You don’t have to hide inviting your father from me—you—you don’t have to invite your father at all. He’s always welcome to visit on your birthday. And of course he should be at your sweet sixteen.”

“Really?” Eden questioned, eyebrows raised. “So, it will be a nice day? A nice party? Everyone will be nice to everyone?”

“Yes, yes, girl scouts honor.”

“Good,” she nodded, a satisfied smile on her face. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

“Oh, babe,” you murmured, tucking her hair behind her ear. “It—“

“Mom!” A shrill voice struck both of you with fear, coming out of nowhere.

“Yes, my love?” You directed at Emerson, watching him fidget with his hands in the doorway. His shaggy brown hair covered his face slightly and his button up was tucked into his khaki shorts.

“My chess tournament starts soon, are you coming?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for anything in the world, kiddo. You and your sister go downstairs while I get dressed.”

They’re obedient, your kids. Kind, driven, smart — with an average IQ of 187.5. The could take over the world if they really, really wanted to. But they don’t. They just want to go out for pizza, and get their twenty dollar allowance every week, hang out with their friends, focus on school, and . . . to see their father. You solemnly set your toothbrush down in the bathroom, looking at yourself in the mirror — tired, worn out, nauseous from another . . . dream? Nightmare? You’re not sure, and frankly, you don’t want to think about it.

So, you pushed on. You got dressed, fixed your hair, used light makeup to cover your exhaustion. Stepping out into the bedroom, your eyes quickly fell on your cellphone — the device laying on your bedside dresser. Hands on your hips, you shook your head, telling yourself not to do it. It’s not necessary, it’s overbearing to even think about.

Then, you remembered who you were dealing with here. And you rushed over to picked up the phone.

“[y/n] Reid,” he beamed. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I heard you talked to E,” you whispered, pacing back and forth in your bedroom.

“I did,” Spencer confirmed. “She called me the other day.”

“To invite you to her birthday party.”

“Yes.”

“And are you planning on coming?” You asked.

“Of course I’m planning on coming. It’s my daughter’s sixteenth birthday.”

“Right, right, it’s not like you missed her fifteenth, or thirteenth, or her twelfth, or her actual birth, or anything.”

“[y/n]—”

“Listen, I didn’t call to argue, or even talk,” you sighed. “I just called to tell you that this party isn’t an option. You will be here Saturday at 10 o’clock sharp, you will help decorate, you will spend time with your children, and you will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. Understood?”

“I have to help decorate?”

“Spencer—“

“I will be there. 10 o’clock. I will help decorate, I will spend time with my children, I will make this the best damn day Eden Reid has ever had. I understand.”

You released a quiet huff, like your lungs couldn’t stand to hold the breath any longer. “Thank you.”

Spencer let out a soft, sad laugh, “Haven’t done that in a while.”

Chess gives you anxiety. You understand it. You can conceptualize it, and even play it. Well. But the bubbling in your stomach every time you witnessed a game — particually one where your eight year old son is playing — comes back to haunt you again and again. You don’t worry about Emerson, he can take care of himself. He’s like his father in that way, the game is in his blood. But the tension, the speed, the risk. It made your breath lodge in your chest, and every so often, you had to sigh to regain control.

The only thing that could pull you from that stress is Em. Emerson Derek Reid, the little half smile on his face when he wins a match. It makes the three hour tournaments worth it. Watching your boy play against college level students who have been playing all their lives. Yeah, so has he.

He jumps off stage in an excited state, rushing towards you with open arms. “You’re a tiger, kid!” You exclaim. “You killed it.”

“Thank you, thank you,” he shrugged. “It’s really my opponents’ fault, they wouldn’t know a queen from a rook if it was looking them in the face.”

“Ooh, cat fight.” E remarked, causing Em and you to laugh.

“Hey,” you said. “Since you’re both already out of school today . . . wanna play hookie?”

“Mom? I am shocked!” E gasped, trying hard to contain a laugh.

“Oh, c’mon, we never get to hang out anymore since you guys started these college classes and my business went up. I’m off work, you’re already out of class, let’s just do it. Let’s go shop and eat and hang out and I will write you guys an excuse for tomorrow, okay?” You rambled, putting your hands to their shoulders.

Em and E looked at each other, and after a minute, they looked up at you and nodded.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You took them to the mall. Bought Em some new clothes, but he wasn’t really interested. You and E did most of the picking. He sat in the corner of the store reading and only participated to try on outfits you guys had picked out. You both squealed and told him how cute he looked, and he scrunched up his nose. Just like . . .

And then you bought E some shoes, some vans. There was a huge sell, and she fell in love with everything she tried on. And you fell in love with seeing her happy so you ran up a bill.

“Okay, which one of us is dying?” E said as you sat at lunch. Em bursted out laughing.

“Wha—neither of you! I just wanted to spoil you guys. You kill yourselves all week with school, even though it’s summer. And I never see you, that’s all.”

“Mhm,” Em hummed, an unconvinced look in his face as he eyed his sister. “I bet someone died.”

“Em!” You exclaimed, E’s laughter blending in. “God, you guys are morbid.”

“Our parents both worked in the FBI, we’re basically trained,” E giggled.

Just then, you got a call. Work. Fuck. You stood from the table and stepped outside, excusing yourself first.

“[y/n].”

“Can we close the Pickett case tonight?”

“Raven . . .”

“I don’t want that boy in that house for one more second. [y/n], I will send you more of my notes, but . . . read them, read them. You will understand. Please.”

You sighed, “I’ll be there at ten. If you are not there at ten . . . I’ll wait for you. Let’s do it.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thanks! Bye. Sorry. Bye.”

You took in a deep breath and shook your head.

Nothing was going to spoil your lunch. Not today.

The car ride home, the three of you vibed to music. Your kids knew every word to Fleetwood Mac’s discography and it was your greatest accomplishment. They even developed their own dance routine to Dreams when they were younger.

Your very, very favorite people on the whole planet.

You pulled up to your house, and as you approached the driveway, you saw a familiar car parked out front. Your stomach flipped, caved in, skipped, hopped, and jumped.

Words can’t even described what it did when you saw him.

Sitting on the porch swing.

“Dad?” Em exclaimed loudly in excitement. You parked in the driveway, eyeing Spencer the whole time.

“Dad?” E said quietly, confusion in her voice. “Did you—“ She directed at you, interrupted by her brother hopping out of the car.

Em ran up to Spencer, and his father scooped him up in a quick motion, spinning him around and kissing his head.

You let out a quick huff, turned to E and smiled, “C’mon, go say hi.”

You followed E out of the car, and watched as she tip toed towards Spencer. She suddenly skipped and jumped into Spencer’s arms.

“Hey, dad,” she said.

“Hey, kid!” He replied, before putting her on her feet. “Your hair is getting so long!”

“Yeah,” she twirled her hair and laughed. “What are you doing here!”

“I wanted to see you guys . . .” He turned to you. “And your mom, who’s quiet as a mouse.”

“Hello,” you shrugged, giving him a kind smile.

“Are you staying for today, dad?” Em asked, tucked under Spencer’s arm.

“I was actually hoping to stay until Sunday, if that’s okay with your mom, of course.”

Your very, very least favorite person on the whole planet.

“Please, mom? He can be here for my birthday!” E pipped.

Em. E. Em. E. Those big, pouty eyes of theirs staring you down. “You can stay in the guest room,” you told Spencer.

“Is that close to your bedroom?” Spencer smirked.

“Heh,” you huffed. “Don’t push it. You can stay upstairs.”

“Yes! C’mon, dad! I made a new model that I wanna show you!”

Later that night, you made the kids pasta. It was one of your finer cuisines, taught to you by an old friend, and they asked for it all the night, especially when they needed to study.

Spencer wandered into the kitchen after getting settled upstairs. “Woah! I thought we could go out for dinner, huh? My treat?”

“We would, dad,” Eden said. “But we both have tests tomorrow. Calculus and Physics. Maybe tomorrow.”

You set their plates down and looked up at Spencer. You walked over to him, eyeing him knowingly as you led him out of the kitchen.

“They’re nerds,” Spencer laughed.

“They’ve also both got an eidetic memory. It’s gonna take them all of three minutes to study, then they’ll be all over you again,” you told him, walking out onto the back patio.

Following you, Spencer closed the door behind him, isolating you two on the porch.

You sat down, plopped down, and looked up at him, “Why are you here?”

“Subtle.”

“Spencer.”

“I mean it, you should be a federal agent.”

“Spencer.”

He sighed heavily, “I have some things I want to . . . handle.”

“Here?” You asked.

“Yes,” he hesitated. “I haven’t been enough a part of the kids’ lives—“

You rolled yours eyes. Yeah, you knew that.

“I want to fix that, to have a real relationship with them.” He continued.

“You’ve always been able to,” you shrugged. “You get distracted.”

“Work,” he muttered.

“Always is.”

“And . . .” he whispered, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and the ground.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “And?”

“I — I want to fix my relationship with you.”

Huh.

“I want us to go to therapy.”

Huh.

“Wha—“ You stuttered, rising from your seat. “Spencer, what?”

“Not couples therapy. Nothing . . . romantic,” his voice cracked. “But we can’t keep acting so . . . poorly around the kids. They’re smart, they notice things. They always have.”

“Spencer, how are we gonna go to therapy? You’d need to dig up Freud himself and have him work on us full time.”

“I just think we need to talk,” he murmured. He stepped closer to you, breathing deeply as he towered over you. “Will you please just think about it?”

You stared him in the eye, let out a heavy exhale.

Spencer.

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reidxreader #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #mine #fl

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ourloveisforthelovely · 4 years ago

Text

Revelation Part 3

Harry Potter AU- Marauders Post Hogwarts

Link to Part 2

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader

Rating: E- smut and sensitive themes

_________

One question, is that my shirt?

You looked up from the refrigerator keeping your face as innocent as possible. Regulus stood in the kitchen doorway with his arms crossed in the dom-like manner that made your heart pound.

My plan is about to work so well.

You thought gleefully before looking down at your body.

“So it is.”

You replied with an innocent smile. Regulus crossed the room and lifted you onto the kitchen counter.

“You’re playing with fire, little girl.”

The tone was teasing...teasing and oozing with passion. Reaching out, you yanked him to you by his shirt.

“Maybe I want to...daddy .”

The word left your mouth before you even thought about it. By the way that Regulus smirked, you could tell that he was assumed. Your hand went to the buttons of the shirt When you put it on you had only buttoned it halfway now you were more than happy to take it off.

“Leave it.”

Regulus ordered as he forcibly spread your legs and shoved a hand between themes. You gasped as his middle and index finger stroked over your clit and down to your entrance.

“No panties? Love, you are definitely playing with fire. If we do this, you know there is no stopping right?”

“I don’t think that I would be sitting her butt booty naked on the kitchen counter if I didn’t need a good fucking. Now take my heart like a man.”

That was all Regulus needed to hear. The last thing that he needed was you getting mad at him after the two of you had mind-blowing sex but since you gave him the green light...he was about to rock your world.

Regulus’ mouth was on yours kissing you hungrily. A year of pent-up passion between the two of you was finally flowing free. If either of you needed any sign that there were still “feelings” between the two of you here it was.

Your hands were fumbling with the buttons of the black button-down that Regulus was wearing. He groaned when you missed one button for the third time.

“Hold on.”

He said softly before yanking the shirt over his head and tossing it on the floor before going for the buckle of his pants. Tossing his hair over his shoulder, Regulus tilted your face back to his.

“Eyes up here, sugar. I have missed those pretty lips...fuck I have missed everything about you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Just fuck me already.”

You replied against Regulus’ mouth as he moved to kiss you again. Regulus pulled you off of the counter and gently shoved your top half down onto the surface.

“Soon.”

He commented before grazing your neck with his teeth. making your squirm against his body. It would be so easy to mark you up. Regulus could leave enough love bites so every man in the house would know that you were off-limits. Not that he really had the need to worry about any other man in the house trying to get you. Sirius was too busy charming Remus (that didn’t mean that Regulus had totally stopped worrying about his brother possibly developing feelings for you in the future). His cock was hard against your ass.

“Baby, you feel so good.”

Regulus moaned, rubbing his cock down the line of your ass. He pushed you forward, to push two fingers into your aching core. You cried out and was thankful no one else was home. Regulus’ fingers pushed deeper. Regulus finally placed his fingers with his cock...what you really wanted. Your pussy stretched to accommodate his size. Had you really forgotten about how good he felt when buried deep inside of you?

The two of you were so busy fucking that neither of you noticed Sirius step into the kitchen and freeze. He watched for a few moments, blinking, before turning and going to join Remus making a mental note on where to sanitize the next morning. Sirius at least had some gossip to share (Remus, you will never believe who I saw fucking in the kitchen. Okay, yeah, it was Reg and Y/n...I think she was wearing his shirt too.)

You, meanwhile, were so focused on the feeling of the head of Regulus’ cock cramming against your cervix that you couldn’t focus on much else. Regulus snaked a hand around your waist to toy with your clit.

“Come, princess.”

Regulus groaned against your back. The moment that he pressed down on your clit, you came without having to be told twice. You knew better than to make Regulus tell you twice. If he had to tell you twice, your ass would be red and raw. You weren’t for sure if he would do that tonight since this was the first fuck in so long. You decided not to press your luck as Regulus came inside of you. He collapsed on your back, holding onto you as tight as the pulsating died out.

“God damn, love, you know how to make me feel like a man.”

You pressed a kiss to Regulus’ wrist as he reached down his free hand to tug his pants back up.

“I’m sorry for everything that I did. This may be a shitty time to say it but I am.”

You slowly turned in his arms for a kiss.

“Let's just have fun. We can talk tomorrow.”

The next morning brought more drama than it did making up. You woke up with Regulus’ arm around you. The bed was nice and warm, almost encouraging you to snuggle back against Regulus and go to sleep, however, a voice caught your attention. It sounded like your old work partner from back in the states...Michael.

Wiggling out of Regulus’ arms you quickly pulled on your abandoned clothes.

“Where are you going?”

Regulus groaned, opening one eye to look at the clock 8:45. He never slept this late but today could be the one exception.

“I heard something downstairs.”

You quickly walked downstairs to where the voices were coming from. Sure enough, there sat Michael beside Moody. Sirius turned with a smile,

“Someone missed you.”

Michael jumped up and pulled you into a bone-breaking hug.

“What are you doing here?”

You asked with a smile. To say that you were surprised, would be an understatement. You assumed that when you told Michael goodbye, it was actually goodbye.

Michael was another interesting topic for you. He reminded you so much of Regulus (sarcasm) and Sirius (everything else) mixed together paired with an LA street smart cop. Had you not been so hurt over Regulus’ breaking up with you, you may have given Micahel a chance. The breakup had taken a lot out of you, including your ability to consider dating someone else. That didn’t mean that Michael didn’t try. He tried hard! The poor guy tried to charm you nonstop with no giving up insight.

“I woke up a couple of days ago and thought that it was time for a change of scenery. I heard London was nice, so here I am.”

“A move across the ocean is more than a change of scenery.”

You replied. Michael grinned.

“Well, a girl could have influenced my decision.”

Sirius was watching the whole thing with a raised eyebrow. You hadn’t mentioned some other guy that could be crushing over you….especially last night when his little brother was fucking you senseless a few feet away from where you stood now.

Before Sirius could say another word, Regulus stepped into the kitchen and his eyes immediately landed on Michael. He clearly saw the way that the dude had his hands wrapped around your waist.

“Y/n, what the hell?”

You winced before turning to face Regulus. One look at him, told you that he was pissed (even though he has no reason to be). It didn’t matter how good Michael was to you or how bad Regulus was to you, you would always choose Regulus.

“Reggie, everything is fine.”

You said before going to join him. Pressing a kiss to his cheek, you had the bright idea that this could be your perfect chance to show Regulus that you could easily be stolen from him if he didn’t treat you right. He would have to be willing to fight for you if the relationship were to work and sustain itself. Maybe it was cold and childish but it could work.

“Who’s the tool?”

Regulus asked slowly. Micahel frowned.

“My name is Michael. I’m her work partner from America. I’ve been transferred here on assignment.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow before letting himself regain his cool composure

“Well, isn’t that special. You’re an American? Just an FYI, the steering wheel in the car is on the other side and you lot drive on the wrong side of the road.”

Sirius quietly snorted and had to put his head down. That had to be one of the more savage takedowns that he had seen Regulus offer in some time...and it was brilliant.

You, meanwhile, were looking at Regulus out of the corner of your eyes while Michael faked a smile.

“Yeah, kind of figured that out. Thanks for the info. You are? I didn’t catch your name.”

“Regulus.”

Regulus kept his response basic. The least this idiot knew about him the better off things would probably be.

Michael meanwhile nodded suspiciously. He knew Regulus’ name well. This was the boyfriend. It all made sense now. Michael couldn't help but be curious if the two of you had already worked all of your issues or if this was just a “fuck and play” thing? If it was the latter of the two then Michael still had a chance with you...and Regulus could go fuck himself.

“Oh, you’re the boyfriend.”

Regulus nodded.

“Yeah, that’s me. I’m her boyfriend.”

You gently patted Regulus’ shoulder before focusing your attention back on Michael.

“Okay, that’s enough you two. Regulus, I’m going to take a shower. Sirius, make sure no one dies while I’m gone.

Sirius nodded. You knew that it was stupid to leave the room but the more Regulus and Michael got to know each other the better things would work in your favor. Should you feel bad for essentially using Michael like a piece of meat to make Regulus jealous? You knew the answer was definitely yes now.

You had been out of the room for a few moments when Remus decided to be the first one to speak.

“Let's all sit down.”

He had a feeling that things were about to get interesting. Remus caught Sirius’ gaze before motioning toward Regulus as if telling him to “mind his brother.”

Michael sat down at the table keeping his “sunny” disposition. His attention was on Regulus who was muttering in French to the male on his right. Michael had a feeling that they were talking about him too based on how the other brother, introduced as Sirius, was laughing.

“I think London is a lovely city. It's nice compared to Los Angeles but I don’t see as much to do.”

Regulus smirked up.

“Maybe you should have stayed in LA. I hear there are great street gangs to join.”

Michael’s pleasant smile faded.

“I’m an auror. That would be a little illegal. Is that a dark mark on your arm there Regulus? You were a dark wizard?”

Regulus glanced down at his left arm where his dark mark was clearly visible before looking up.

“Ah, so that’s what that is. There is no getting past you. To answer your question, yes I was a dark wizard...speaking of which would you like to see some real dark magic? I can show you…”

Michael’s cheeky smile faded as Regulus stared at him not blinking. Slipping his hand into his jacket, he decided to wrap a hand around his wand. Michael was still trying to figure out if he was actually in any danger or if Regulus was just screwing with him.

“Okay, Reg, that’s enough. You’ve made him shit his pants. Go take a shower with Y/n. I’m sure with her being all wet and slippery that she would love to see you.”

Sirius commented, breaking Regulus’ stare on Michael.

“Great idea, Sirius.”

________

@amelie-black @regulusslut @fandomsxxregulus @truly-insatiable @fific7 @realgaytrash @quuenofblacks @jessyballet @knreidy1 @hazncalsgal @teletubiswszpilkach @acciosiriusblack @mimisparkle12 @rubyroscoe1 @criminalyetminimal @whymyparentscheckmyphone @exhsle @bennyberry @spiderxalmighty @brokencasbutt67-writer @fandom-trash-worth-it @authoressskr @summer-novak @hankypranky @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @marichromatic @shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @knight-of-gleefulness @stuckinsaudi1 @untoldshortsofthefandoms @sprnaturallover @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel @wontlookaway @mycuddlycorner

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ibuki-says · 4 years ago

Note

How would Kaede react to Shuichi surviving his execution, which Monokuma did internally to prolong his death and she can’t get his agonizing expressions and wails out of her head?

This was such an interesting scenario to think about, I hope I did your idea justice, Anon!!

Pairing: Kaede Akamatsu x Shuichi Saihara

Rating: PG-13 - Cursing and mentions of death

Word Count: 1,247

Spoilers: Not really? This is an AU for the first chapter of DRV3

Kaede couldn’t believe it. The one person she felt like she could trust in this insane situation had been the one to betray them all. Letting out a small cry, she buried her face in her hands in an attempt to shake the bad thought away. No. Shuichi hadn’t betrayed them. Hell, he had tried to save them all! Save them all by killing the mastermind! She only wished he had felt comfortable enough to discuss it with her first. She could’ve talked him out of it, or figured out a better way to go about it...something!! Anything would’ve been better than ending the trial staring at the detective’s lifeless body. Her eyes filled up with tears again at the memory, his terrified screams and expression seemed burned permanently in the back of her mind.

“Why….why did it have to be him?” She muttered into her hands, not speaking directly to anyone. She felt so broken, so defeated, so utterly hopeless. She wasn’t able to encourage everyone enough to keep trying to get out the escape tunnel, and now this? There had to be a way out, she was sure of it!! If only she hadn’t allowed everyone to give up, Rantaro and Shuichi would still be alive and they wouldn’t be in this awful mess anymore!! If only she had noticed how strangely Shuichi had been acting leading up to the end of the time limit. It was all her fault...it was all her fault...it was all her fault…

Kaede wasn’t sure when she drifted off to sleep, her thoughts had kept her up for most of the night. Even when she did sleep, the only images flashing through her mind were the lifeless bodies of what were once her friends so she didn’t even want to sleep. She’d been woken abruptly, hearing a static sound penetrate her sleeping state. She sat up with a start, letting out a confused groan while trying to adjust her eyes to the brightness of the screen in her otherwise dark room.

“Gooooooood morning everyone! After all the excitement from last night, I just couldn’t wait wait wait to show all of you the next surprise I have in store! Please everyone gather in the gym immediately! You’re gonna wanna see thiiiiiis~” Kaede wanted nothing more than to ignore the bear on the screen and crawl back under her covers for the rest of her life. However, she now knew what he was capable of and didn’t want another one of her friends to be punished because she didn’t comply. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she willed herself to get out of bed and stagger towards the gym.

By the time Kaede arrived at the gym, it seemed as though she had been the last one to arrive. Everyone else was simply standing around, the same confused and exhausted looks in their eyes. Conversation wasn’t necessary, besides, what would they even say? Luckily, the silence didn’t linger for too long as six figures popped up at the front of the room. “Rise and shine ursine!” The catchphrase Kaede had somewhat gotten used to rang throughout the gym.

“We have a big announcement!” Monotaro excitedly started things off before Monosuke immediately shoved him.

“Hey, Pops is supposed to announce it, not us! Remember! He said we just need to stand around and look cute!” He scolded Monotaro before the red bear shoved him back.

“Actually, I don’t remember, so there!” The two glared at each other while Monophanie looked on in horror.

“Please stop fighting!” She cried as many of the students looked on in even more confusion.

“Hey shut up! Monokuma, what the hell’s this about?!” Kaito was the first to speak up, addressing Monokuma directly. Monokuma stopped cooing over the cubs to turn his attention to the students for the first time.

“Oh right um, this is kinda awkward buuuut… it looks like the blackened you all chose for the last trial was….incorrect!” It took a moment to process. Kaede’s head was spinning. Incorrect? But based on all of the evidence...she thought...she determined that he had been the only logical choice to be the killer...and he wasn’t? She sent him to his death and he was innocent? Her hands couldn’t stop shaking and her eyes had begun filling with tears. Clearly, the others were just as confused, some of them in silent bewilderment like her while others had taken to anger, shouting expletives towards the bears. But...if they had gotten it wrong...shouldn’t they all have been executed? Almost as if he was reading her mind, Monokuma spoke up yet again. “I know what you’re all thinking and- no. Since this is a very rare occurrence where I made a mistake, in the issue of fairness you all will not be executed! I know, I know. I am your most generous headmaster. Besides, we can’t have the fun end right at the first trial!”

“Can we tell them the second surprise!? Please, daddy!! Please!?!” Monophonie seemed to barely be able to contain her excitement, which made Kaede all the more afraid. What could she possibly be so excited about? Clearly nothing good for Kaede and the rest of the students she guessed.

“Awww...if my cute little cub is so excited, how could I possibly say no?” He cooed and moved to the side to allow the cubs to take center stage.

“Alright everyone! In addition to everyone’s non-immediate death, we have one more surprise! Since the blackened wasn’t actually the blackened, daddy managed to fix everything! You can come in now!!” Monophanie shouted out the last sentence louder, almost as if she was calling out to someone. Kaede’s blood froze as she heard the door to the gym open and footsteps ringing against her ears. She could hear the other students turning and reacting, but she couldn’t bring herself to turn around. Her heart pounded in her chest as she squeezed her eyes tight shut. No, no...she just lost him...she just mourned him...there was no way Monokuma could bring him back after the brutal execution they had witnessed.

“The true blackened is still out there and, to make the deal even sweeter, I have an offer. Clearly, the First Blood Perk wasn’t enough to motivate you all. If the true blackened of the first case is the next murder victim, I’ll let you all go, no strings attached!” Kaede could hear the malice dripping from his voice, daring them all to make a wild guess as to who was the true blackened of the previous case, and put enough confidence into that guess by murdering them. But...if they’re right then they can all be free… Was anyone willing to take that gamble?

“Kaede…” A voice that was oh-so-familiar, one that Kaede stubbornly refused to believe was actually back was now right in front of her.

“No...you’re dead.” She whimpered weakly, still refusing to open her eyes, lest this end up being some kind of sick nightmare. She felt a hand gently grasp her own, reminding her of the way she had tried to encourage him before the time limit ran out.

“Kaede. Please look at me.” The voice begged again, a desperation that mirrored her own evident in the tone. Finally, she took in a deep breath, raised her head, and looked into the golden eyes that she had missed so much.

#request #danganronpa #danganonpa v3 #drv3 #danganronpa: killing harmony #saimatsu #kaede x shuichi #kaede akamatsu #shuichi saihara #danganronpa fanfic #danganronpa fanficion #shuichi x kaede #drv3 kaede #drv3 shuichi #mod ibuki #au #au fanfic

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softboywriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Two Times You Ended Up In His Room, And The One Time He Ended Up In Yours | Poe Dameron

Summary: You and Poe are both x-wing pilots and you have both been mutually pining for each other for a long while. Things finally come to a head when you end up in his room one night on accident. [tw: PTSD discussion] [Set before films? but non specific] [established friendship] [mutual pining] [fluff] [established nickname]

Word Count: 5k

|Masterlist In Bio|

The first time you end up in Poe's room it's an accident. It is well past midnight and you're trying to avoid the guard who always flirts with you. He's really creepy and you just want to go for a walk around base to clear your head. Things have been tense and you just want a moment to breathe. Unfortunately you have absolutely no luck and you run into the aforementioned guard. His name is Karik. How could you forget, he tells you every single time you see him.

You turn down a hall toward the command center and there he is. He raises his hand and greets you like an old friend and you do nothing of the sort in return. Instead you turn around and go to the closest door, scan your all access ID and go in. You have no idea who to expect inside but you don't care. Explaining your issue will be easier to deal with than Karik.

In the low light of the bedroom you can make out an orange flight suit in the corner, a body on the bed with their back to you and a droid in the corner powered down. The droid is the dead giveaway. It's BB8. That means the man on the bed is Poe Dameron.

As if you had said his name out loud, he rolls over and flips on a small wall lamp beside the bed. He's topless, hair a dark curly mess, the gold chain with small ID tags he always wears glints in the light. Stars above, he is a sight to see. "Hello?" He asks sleepily, rubbing his eyes and making sure you're actually there. "Jumper is that you?"

Jumper. The nickname you earned from the x-wing pilots just over a year ago when your x-wing was going down and you emergency evacuated on a planet you had no knowledge of. You knew two things. Die in a fiery crash with the x-wing or possibly survive the fall on to the unknown planet and keep fighting with the resistance, but also possibly die upon impact. Obviously you survived. Broken and battered you landed in quicksand. It was Poe who rescued you only minutes after you landed. He had seen the x-wing go down and went to find you, or better yet, your body to bring back your ID tags. When he found you alive he was shocked. If he hadn't come after you, you'd have died in that quicksand, unable to move and sinking slowly. Truly you owe this man your life.

"Yeah, hey Poe." You chuckle nervously. Maybe explaining your sudden intrusion wouldn't be easier than dealing with Karik. Because of course it's Poe and he's your friend, and of course he's your commander too but on top of all of that you've got a massive crush on him. Like, you’re basically in love with him and he has no idea. "I-... was out for a walk."

"A walk?" He sits up and the blankets pool at his hips. "A walk into people's bedrooms?"

"Yes, no! No! I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk around base. There's this guy, a guard or something, he always tries to flirt with me and it makes me uncomfortable. Anyway I saw him and I just went into the closest room to avoid him."

"Oh. That's horrible, have you told him you're not interested?" Poe slides over on his bed toward the edge and adjusts the blankets. "Have you talked to anyone about it?"

You sigh heavily. "I've told him I'm not interested of course. I haven't brought it to anyone's attention because he isn't like...I don’t know?"

"It's unwanted attention. He's harassing you. Tell me who it is and I'll talk to them tomorrow."

"I don't want to start trouble."

Poe flips his blanket back. "I won't have anyone on this base getting harassed, let alone one of my best pilots."

"I-" your voice catches as you realize he's just given you a major compliment. One of his best pilots? Coming from Poe Dameron, the Poe Dameron? Your heart is going to explode. "Thank you," you manage to whisper while your brain and heart go a thousand miles a minute.

He chuckles softly, as if the compliment were nothing. "You know we have a recon mission tomorrow. You need to get some sleep. Should I walk you back to your room?"

"I can't ask that of you. I already woke you up and barged in your bedroom."

"It's no problem. I'm offering." Poe pulls back his blanket completely and slides off the bed, stretching as he stands. His black jogging pants hang low on his hips and you force yourself to look at BB8 in the corner. "Come on, Jumper. I need my pilots rested before they get behind the controls."

You nod and he opens the door, ushering you into the bright hallway. Karik is nowhere in sight and you're glad. It would be painfully obvious he was the one if he were lingering outside the door. "I think I'll be fine. You can go back to sleep Poe."

"No, I wanna make sure you get to your room unbothered." He runs a hand over his hair and scratches his side. It's hotter than it has any right to be. He's just being a human and you can't get your head out of the clouds. "You're in South Central quarters right?"

"Y-yeah? How'd you know?"

"I visited every day when you were laid up after your crash. Remember?"

"Oh yeah, right, duh." You shake your head and rub your neck. The scar there from the operation they did to reconstruct your shoulder is still raised. Your stomach churns as you think about how much of your body is scared from that crash. You're still alive though, and that's what matters.

Poe lays a hand on your cheek and fans his fingers out over your neck. "You still with me?"

"What?" You snap out of your trip down memory lane and look to the man in front of you. "Sorry."

"I didn't mean to bring up a sore subject."

"No, no it's fine."

"Did you ever go to therapy for that or anything? It takes a toll on a person when they get that close to death." Poe slides his hand down to your shoulder. "I'm not saying anything is wrong with you because there isn't, I just want to make sure you're alright."

You smile softly. "Yes, I've seen someone, I’m still seeing someone actually. I promise I'm not going to crash anymore x-wings or let you down on a mission because I'm in my head."

"I don't care if you let me down or destroy a hundred x-wings. I care about your health, about you as a person not as just some pilot on my team. I never wanna pull you from the brink of death again but I'd do it over and over if I must, just to see you smile and fist bump me before you get in your x-wing again."

"T-thank you Poe." You swallow back the surge of emotion that courses through you. "I haven't- I don't really talk about it outside of therapy y'know?"

"You can talk about it any time with me. It's okay. I've been there and it's a dark place to come back from." He wraps his arm around you and pulls you into a hug. "You're not alone."

You bring your hands up and grip his back gently. It's warm, soft and smooth to the touch. He must use quality body wash. "Sorry I woke you up and now I'm like this."

"There's a time for everything. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Does the name Jumper upset you? I guess I didn't think of it until now."

"No, it's like a badge of honor. It's alright I don't mind."

"Okay good." He ruffles your hair and you swat at his hand. "You need to go to bed. Like I said, I don't need a sleepy pilot tomorrow."

"Yeah okay, Dad."

Poe smirks and folds his arms over his chest. "Dad? Or do you mean Daddy?"

Your jaw drops as you realize what he is implying. "Oh disgusting. You're sick Dameron. You're sick."

He laughs raucously, leaning on the wall as he catches his breath. "Oh man, your face was just priceless. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm joking. I'm not into that at all."

"Oh my- fuck Poe you are terrible!"

"I've been called worse honey." He pats your back and pushes you forward gently. "Seriously though, as much as I'd love to stay up all night with you, we both need some sleep. Let's get you to bed so I can get some sleep too."

__________________

Two days later you wake up from a nightmare in a cold sweat. You had gone down again, your x-wing careening to the surface of a planet you're unfamiliar with. This time you didn't jump out, trapped by your seat belt straps and you crashed with it. Everything felt so real and the moment you made impact you sat bolt upright in bed gasping for air. It's been over a year since the crash, you haven't had a dream like this in forever. You remember what Poe said, that you could go talk to him anytime. It's well into the early hours of the morning and you feel bad waking him up again, but you need something solid, something real. There are no missions for a few days so he can catch up on sleep tomorrow or something.

You put on your slippers and head out into the hall. You pass a few of the hangar crew, most likely the night shift, on your way down Poe's hallway. At his door you scan your ID and it slides open, allowing you to step in and hit the close button.

Poe stirs, rolling over in bed and looking at you. "Jumper? That you again?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"No, not at all. Here." He scoots over and pulls the blanket back. "Get in."

"I don't know if that's appropriate?"

"Appropriate? What is this grade school academy? We're adults and you're my friend and co pilot. I think you're allowed to get in my bed. Do you want me to make it an order?"

"No," you laugh softly at how ridiculous it sounds. You crawl under the blanket and snuggle down against the mattress. It smells like him, warm and rich almost like sandalwood and spices. "I'm sorry I woke you up. I just didn't want to be alone."

"Nightmare?" He asks, voice soft and deep in your ear. He's so close you're torn between being comfortable and being nervous. "Tell me about it?"

"I was going down in an x-wing and I couldn't evac because I was stuck and I was so scared." Your chest tightens and you take a heavy breath. "I was so scared of dying Poe. I shouldn't be, I know the risk I take everytime I get behind the controls. But I was so fucking scared I didn't want to die like that, I didn't want to..." Your voice breaks completely as a sob wracks your body. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Poe takes your hand and brings it up to kiss your knuckles. It makes your heart ache and everything feels surreal. You're a mess of emotions. He lets you cry it out, waits to speak until you've settled yourself down enough to breathe normally. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Mmmhmm."

"I get scared too. The first time I almost died I ended up in a sand dune alone with a cut on my head and a broken arm. I think I was eighteen. If some salvagers hadn't found me by tracking my downed x-wing, I'd have died of starvation and dehydration. I didn't know where I was or how to get back to civilization. I think about that flight every time something happens to my ship and my controls go dark for a moment. I had nightmares every night for two years. I still get them from time to time."

"Oh. I didn't know that happened to you."

"Mmm. I've been in a lot of dangerous situations and I'm sure I will be in more in the future. Being afraid of dying doesn't make you weak, it makes you human. Unfortunately PTSD is a very real side effect of traumatic events and we've been through a lot. I still go to therapy once a month because coping is hard."

You nod and squeeze his hand in yours. "Thanks for letting me stay in here for a bit. I just wanted to feel something real, to know the dream was just a dream."

"I understand. You're welcome to sleep with me if you want. I have to be up in a few hours to meet with Leia, but you can stay as long as you like."

You chuckle softly and wipe your face. You feel a lot better having cried it out. You're feeling a lot less scared of dying and being weak and a lot more giddy and anxious about being this intimate with Poe. "Is Poe Dameron asking me to sleep with him?"

"Only if you say yes."

"Mmm, only if you keep it above the waist." You say teasingly.

Next thing you know Poe is leaning over you. His hand slides into your hair, turning your face to him. In the dark room so you can't see him clearly when he is this close and your breathing stops. Is this happening? Is he actually making a move?

"P-Poe?"

"Above the waist." He strokes his thumb over your cheek. "That's the only stipulation?"

"For sleeping? Or you mean for-"

"I do."

A flush rises in your chest and you can feel your cheeks get warm just before the rest of your body floods with heat. "I didn't know you felt that way about me."

He chuckles softly and leans his forehead against yours. "Jumper, you're all I've wanted since the day I pulled you from the quicksand. I knew when I saw you almost ripped from my life, I needed you. You're funny, smart, quick, and a damn good pilot." He bumps his nose against yours and you let out a shaky breath. "I don't let just anyone in my room late at night, and I sure as hell don't share my bed with just anyone either."

"I can't believe...I was just teasing but- I've always wanted you t-"

He presses his lips to yours and you melt. Your body feels as if it completely dissolves, from your bones to your skin. You feel like putty held together by some fragile and unknown force, doomed to ooze out of your form at any second. He's burning up, body flush to you as he works his lips against yours ever so gently. It's even better than you imagined, he's so soft and warm, a gentle lover, and your heart stops as you think about how this can't be real. This has to be a dream. You're still in your room. This cannot be happening.

"Hey, you alright?" He murmurs, stroking some hair off of your face. "Did I read this wrong?"

"It's a dream. You're not real." Your chest swells with crushing sadness and you can't stop the tears that spill over the corners of your eyes. "This isn't happening. I'm going to wake up now."

Poe lets out a soft laugh. "Sweetheart you are awake." He leans over you and turns on the wall lamp. The room is flooded with a yellow glow and you see him, face to face. "See? I'm right here?"

You reach up and touch his cheek, the light stubble scratches against your fingertips. His loving eyes droop, a dead give away that he enjoys your touch. But why? Why would he wait so long? Why would he never say anything? You splay your hand flat on his cheek and rub your palm along the scratchy short hairs, thumb bumping his lower lip. "Why now?"

"Because I finally had an inkling that you were just as interested as I was. You're hard to read most of the time. I understand that though. You're private with your feelings and I'm your commander. I don't blame you for not flinging yourself at me. I've not been exactly forthcoming either, as I didn't want to be inappropriate as a person of authority."

"Right...but what is proving to me that this isn't a dream?"

"Well would a dream bite your shoulder?" He drops his face to your skin and lets out a hot breath over it.

"Maybe?"

"Would you feel it if it wasn't real?"

"I don't know."

Poe sighs heavily, forehead pressing to your shoulder. "This is not a dream. I swear. Do you want to get up? Go talk to someone else? Maybe fly the x-wings around a bit?"

"No. I want to sleep. You said you need to sleep too because you have a meeting with Leia early in the morning. Maybe if I fall asleep I'll wake up if it's a dream."

"It's not a dream." He leans over and flips off the light before he drops his weight to the bed beside you. "You'll see."

_____________________

Morning comes and you wake up to bright light pouring in through the small window beside the bed. Of course Poe has a good room with a window. Most of the base sleeping quarters have no windows and are very small. His is nice enough, definitely more spacious than a lot of the rooms you've been in. His bed is tucked in the corner, there's a bedside table, a rod built into the wall for clothes, a small three drawer dresser behind the door and a little indent on the wall the bed is against for storage where BB8 stays. He doesn't have much in the way of personal items on display. Only a few hygiene essentials in a basket on the dresser and a small box that looks like it might hold a piece of jewelry. There is a photo frame too, and it looks like a picture of the x-wing fighters.

Last night wasn't a dream, that much is obvious. You're in Poe's room and he is gone. You debate turning over and going back to sleep, or going out to get breakfast at the mess hall. Your stomach makes the decision and it says mess hall as soon as possible.

In the mess hall you take a seat with some of the other pilots. You know them well enough, a few of them you would call friends. You've never been one to be too social because in this fight, you lose too many people. One of the few people you call a friend is Vivi. She is a bomber pilot, knows the in and out of a bomber like the back of her hand. She's a bit of a gossip but she has been here with you since the day you arrived.

"Hey hey, how's it going?" Vivi asks as you place your tray in front of you.

"Good. I've got a few days off. I'm glad just to recoup."

"Got anything special in mind?" She asks with a little smirk.

You shrug and poke at the jellied fruit you've got on the plate. "Sleeping? Finding a place to take a hot bath. I swear I've got arthritis and I'm only twenty five."

"Mmm probably because you were a shattered heap of bones when Dameron found you. That shit doesn't heal back right y'know?"

"Mmm yeah probably."

"Yeah...so how long have you and Dameron been a couple?"

You nearly choke on your coffee and quickly grab your napkin to clean up your face. How in the galaxy did she know you and Poe spent any time together outside missions? "Excuse me?"

"I said what I said. I heard from Nupe that Karik told him that he saw you go into Dameron's room the other night, like well into the night too. I also heard that Trey and Garin saw you in the hall going to Dameron's room last night. So, how long?"

"It's not like that. Karik is the one who is obsessed with me, remember? His rumors are invalid. I was out for a walk because I couldn't sleep and I just ducked into a room to avoid him. It happened to be Poe's room. There is nothing going on."

Vivi chuffs. "So what about last night?"

"I went to talk to him about the crash. I've been having a hard time lately and- y'know what? I don't owe you an explanation." You stab a little harshly at your scrambled eggs and bring them to your mouth. You don't owe anyone an explanation about why you've been to Poe's room. Why does it matter? He's your friend and co-pilot. That's all anyone needs to know. So what if you kissed last night. You're still not sure it wasn't a dream. Sure you woke up in his room but that doesn't mean anything...maybe.

Vivi stays quiet, realizing she has crossed a line she wasn't meant to cross. The two of you eat in silence while the rest of the mess hall go about their own conversations. It's not until you're ready to take your tray to the wash station that Vivi speaks again. "I'm sorry I pushed you. I think you'd make a good couple. I just thought- well the way Dameron looks at you I thought something was definitely going on."

"The way he- what?"

"You don't know? He looks at you like you're the most incredible person he's ever seen, literally after every mission he gawks like a proud parent watching their kid win a race." She laughs softly to herself. "He is so in love with you and you have no idea do you?"

"Wait- last night...fuck. I have to talk to him."

"He's still at the command center with Leia and the others last I knew."

You pick up your tray and head for the wash station, passing it off to the droid there as you head out. You're starting to think last night was not a dream after all. If not, you've gotta talk to Poe as soon as possible. If rumor spreads that you're hooking up or sneaking around, whatever, you want to make sure that it doesn't affect either of you. You want a solid definition of your relationship no matter what it may be.

As you turn down the hall to the command center you run into Karik. The absolute last person you want to deal with right now. He's standing guard outside the command center, posted most likely, and you've got to get past him to get to Poe. As if the Galaxy hasn't given you enough to deal with in your life.

"Hey Jumper, where are you headed?" Karik smiles, arms folded over his chest to make himself seem bigger. It's like a bird, puffing itself up for first impressions on a mate.

"I've business in the command center."

"Do you? I don't have any orders to allow you in."

You roll your eyes and look to the doors beyond that open to reveal the internal workings of the command center. You make eye contact with Poe for a moment before the doors close again. "Why don't you double check?"

"I know my job. How about you? Do you know yours?"

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Karik shrugs and gives a rude smirk. "Nothing. Just don't know what a pilot would think they need to be in the command center for. You're not a commander or a sergeant."

"What's your problem Karik?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Really? Because you are acting like an asshole right now and if my memory serves me right you've never been one before."

"People change."

You scoff and smile to yourself. This is absolutely about you and Poe. He's blocking you because he's jealous. "You-"

"Jumper, hey you came to meet me?" Poe says as he jogs down the short hall behind Karik that leads to the command center. He stops and lays his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly.

"Of course, I was hoping we could talk soon. I didn't realize your meeting would go so long today."

Poe looks back at the closed doors and runs a hand over his hair. "We're just about finished. Did you get breakfast?"

"Yeah just came from there."

"Damn I was hoping to get something with you. I'm starving in here."

You look to Karik and then back to Poe and smile oh so sweetly. "I can grab you something before they switch over to lunch. Meet me in my room when you're done?"

"Sure. I'll be wrapping up quickly." Poe moves his hand from your shoulder to your neck and does a soft little cradle of your jaw before pulling his hand away. "You're such a sweetheart. I'll meet you there soon."

Warmth floods your body and grips your heart. So tender and loving. You're not sure if you're ready for that side of Poe yet. You glance at Karik and he is staring straight ahead, an unmistakable scowl of jealousy on his face. Good, maybe now he will leave you alone.

_____________________

"So Karik is the one who bothers you isn't he?" Poe asks, stretching his legs out in front of him. The two of you are in your room, wanting to talk in private from the rest of the base who are clearly very interested in your relationship. "I could sense he was uncomfortable with me touching you."

"Yeah, he's moving on though I think. I don't know." You pick at the bread you've brought to snack on while Poe finishes his jelly on toast. "I wanted to ask you about last night."

Poe looks over and you can read his expression as plain as day. He looks nervous, concerned that he has wronged you. "Yeah?"

"It wasn't a dream right?"

"No, it definitely was not. Are you uncomfortable?"

"No. No, I'm not uncomfortable with what happened. I guess I'm coming to terms? It still feels like a dream, like it feels hazy because I was so tired. Do you really actually like me like that?"

"Yes. I really like you." He chuckles and leans his head on your shoulder. "Jumper, you're the most amazing pilot I've ever seen and you're so incredibly beautiful without even trying. I don't know why I have waited so long to make a move. I suppose I was afraid I wasn't good enough."

"Not good enough? You're Poe fuckin' Dameron. You're the greatest pilot the resistance has ever seen, shit, that some of the Galaxy has ever seen. You're sweet and kind and you're so determined and dedicated. Poe, you're a rarity and any woman who gets to be romantically involved with you is so lucky."

Poe lifts his head and puts his arm around you. "I suppose you've hit the jackpot then."

"Me? Why?"

"Because I want to ask you out, Jumper. Be my girlfriend."

"Wh- we haven't even gone on a date Poe! How do you even know you want to date me let alone actually be in a relationship with me? This is a bit fast don't you think?"

"I know we have chemistry through the roof when we are together in the cockpit of a ship. We've got an undeniable connection when we are fighting side by side in x-wings and even more of one when we see each other on the ground. There is no way you don't feel that when we're together."

You smile to yourself. Of course you noticed all these things. They're why you've got such a crush on him. You and him have an unspoken connection that puts you on the same wavelength when you're near each other. You always thought maybe it was because he's such a good pilot that you just vibed with him. Two birds of a feather type deal. But it's deeper than that. He evokes a deep comfort, a sense of home and family that you no longer have. By the stars you never realized you are basically in love with him.

"Jumper?" He murmurs, hand cradling your jaw and turning your face to him. "Are you alright?"

"I think I'm in love with you." You mumble softly, eyes focusing in and connecting with his.

Poe smiles and lets out a laugh. "And I'm the one moving fast?"

"Shut up." You grab his face and pull him in for a kiss. He immediately melts into your grasp, reaching for your face and grinning into your lips. "You taste like jelly," you giggle as he pulls back and leans his forehead against yours.

Poe pulls you against his chest and you wrap your arms around him. "So is this a yes to being my girlfriend?"

"Yes. I'd love to date you Poe Dameron."

"Good." He presses a kiss to your head. "Because I don't know if I could keep pining after you."

"Pining? Oh please."

"Hush." He ruffles your hair and falls back on the bed, pulling you back with him. "Let me be the romantic I was born to be."

"I'm excited to meet this side of you."

He kisses along your jaw and hums. "I'm excited to show it." ______________________

end

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noladyme · 4 years ago

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My Only Sunshine - Chapter 1

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

TW: Blood

It was a warm night, and I was wearing my favorite summer dress, seated on a velvet couch, in an old house.

“Well, miss Sunday. Thank you very much for coming all the way out here to speak to me. I’ll go over your resumé one more time, but I think I’ve heard all I need”. The dark-haired, pale man gave me a friendly smile. I knew better than to reach out my hand for him to shake, and simply got up to stand, and nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr. Compton”, I smiled. “Just let me know if there’s anything else you need… So, interview over?”. “Interview’s over”, he said. “Good! Calling you Mr. Compton was getting weird!”, I laughed. “Well, you did insist”. “It was a job-interview. It was only proper”, I shrugged.

Bill Compton walked me to his front door, and I was about to say goodbye, when he halted, just before going for the doorknob. “There is one thing, I wanted to ask you; and seeing as you’ve been so forthcoming with me, on everything else…”. The vampire narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”, I said. “Why did you decide to apply for the position as my day-person?”, he asked. I smiled embarrassedly. “Honestly… I need the money”, I said. “I’ve been hoping to pay down my student loan, but taking up extra shifts down at Merlotte’s just isn’t cutting it”.

“That’s not what I meant”, he said. “You just don’t strike me as the type of person to take a job for a vampire”. He raised an intrigued brow at me. “Not enough fang marks on me?”, I chuckled. The vampire chuckled, and it seemed that if he’d been able to blush, he would have. “You’re offering a good salary for what seems like an easy job; and one that I can do while still staying on with Sam. The fact that you’re a vampire doesn’t really matter to me”. “Why not?”, he asked. “Why should it?”, I retorted. “Some might say it’s dangerous to work for one of us”, the vampire said. “You’re no more likely to hurt me than any other vampire around – or human for that matter”, I said. “Besides; Sookie speaks highly of you, and I trust her”. “Well, she speaks highly of you as well”, he said.

He seemed to think for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “If you want this job, it’s yours”, he said. My jaw dropped. “Really?”, I asked. The vampire confirmed it with a nod. “Thank you, Bill. You won’t regret it…! One thing, though… Day-person? Can’t we call it… secretary? Or assistant?”. He chuckled warmly as he opened the door for me to leave. “Please come by tomorrow. I’ll have a list for you with some things I need handled”, Bill said, as I went down the steps of the porch. “8 pm?”, I asked. “That sounds perfect”, Bill said. “See you then”. He handed me back the “resumé”, which I’d written on the back of a paper placemat from Merlotte’s. As I took it, I got a slight papercut on my finger. “Shit”, I muttered. Bill smiled slightly. “Would you like me to fetch you a band-aid?”. “Nah…”, I said, and looked at the trickle of blood. “You hungry?”, I teased. “I think Sookie might have a problem with me feeding from a friend”. “Alright”, I shrugged.

I began fishing my car keys out of my bag, and cursed to myself, as they fell from my hand, and landed in the gravel on the ground. I was about to crouch to pick them up; when I felt a gush of wind, and suddenly stood nose to chest with a very tall man. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. They were bright blue, and had a sharpness to them. “Hello”, he said, a cheery mischievous tone to his voice. “Hi”, I said, and went to pick up my keys again. The man – vampire, I realized – held them out to me, before I even so much as bent over. “Fuck, you’re fast”, I gasped. He put the keys in my outstretched hand, and grabbed my wrist, to look at my bleeding finger. “When I want to be”, he smiled. “Bill, who is this? Introduce us”.

Bill stepped of his porch, and walked warily towards us. “Eric Northman… This is Liv Sunday”. I found it hard to break eye contact with the tall vampire, mostly because he was one of the most handsome people I’d ever met. “Liv”, Eric said. He dragged out the sound of my name, pronouncing it Leev. “Yours…? She smells… pure”. I managed to look away, and turned my gaze to Bills face instead. His jaw was clenched. “My assistant”, Bill repeated, put a hand on my arm, and went to stand half way in front of me. The tall vampire let go of my wrist. “Off limits”. “I’m a big girl, Bill", I said. “I can speak for myself". “Yes, she’s a big girl, Bill", Eric smiled. “Let her speak for herself". I frowned at the tall vampire, and shook my head. “That means you too, Vlad", I said. A grin ghosted his face.

Eric leaned his head forwards, and burrowed his eyes even deeper into mine. “Liv… You’re interesting”, he said. “Please. Tell me more about you”. “Eric!”, Bill growled. “Why have you come?”. “To discuss matters surrounding the conference. It is election year, after all”, the other vampire replied, never taking his eyes off mine. “Now stop interrupting my conversation with… Liv”. The vampire-testosterone was heavy in the air, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe some other time”, I said. “Oh come now…”, Eric smiled, his eyes digging even deeper. I frowned at him. “I said no!”, I sneered. The tall vampire seemed taken aback, and Bills eyes widened. “Ok… I’m just gonna go”, I said.

Bill followed me all the way over to my car, and held the door for me as I climbed in. I opened the window to let some air into the cabin. “Drive safely now”, Bill said. “See you at 8 tomorrow. I’ll give your regards to Sookie”. Eric smiled at me. “It was nice meeting you, Liv”, he said. “Until next time”. His intense gaze made heat pool in my lower stomach, and I had to consciously tell myself to put the key in the ignition.

I drove home to my one-bedroom rental feeling happy that I’d nailed my job interview; and stirred from meeting Eric. I supposed he always had that influence on people; Bill probably just turned his mojo down, because he had Sookie, and didn’t need to impress people in the same way. Bill was the second vampire I’d met that I’d actually spoken to, since they came out of the coffin. Eric was the third, so I didn’t have much to compare him too; but I read magazines as much as the next person.

When I got inside, I took a cold shower; trying to shake the meeting out of my system. Before I climbed into bed, I checked my messages, and saw that Sookie had sent me a text, congratulating me on my new side-gig with Bill. I sent her one back, thanking her for hooking me up with the interview.

Sookie had been a good friend every since I got to town. I’d been down on my luck since leaving San Diego; but Bon Temps had been good to me so far. I had a waitressing job at Merlotte’s, on top of the one I’d just gotten with Bill – taking care of the things he needed done during the daylight – and some good friends in Sookie and Bill; and even my other boss; Sam. I’d even go so far as calling Sookies brother, Jason, a friend – even if he did try getting me into bed with him, whenever he could. I think the fact that I was so fervent in my dismissal of him, made him have some weird kind of respect for me. I was happy – settled, even. The last thing I needed was some blonde hottie trying to get in my pants; it didn’t matter if his name was Jason Stackhouse – or Eric Northman for that matter.

---

I slept in the next day, as my meeting with Bill had been quite late – or should I say, early, as I’d not been home until 3 am. My shift at the bar was a slow one, which was good for Terry, who was having one of his bad days in the kitchen. All 6 hours dragged along in a manner so boring, it was a relief when 7 pm. came along, and Arlene came to take over from me.

Arriving back at the Compton house, I was met in the door by Sookie. “Hey, Liv! Come on in!”, she grinned. “Bill’s in the living room”. “Is it your night off, Sook’?”, I asked. “Uh huh”, she said. “Bill’s taking me to dinner”. We walked into the living room, where Bill was waiting, with a somber look on his face. “Liv… I would like to apologize for Erics behavior last night”, he said. “He didn’t do anything wrong”, I said. “It’s not the first time someone’s flirted with me”. “Eric Northman flirted with you?”, Sookie chuckled. “And you didn’t end up with your legs around his waist?”. I mock scoffed. “I am a lady”, I said. “I tend to throw them around a man’s neck first”. Sookie punched my shoulder. “Slut!”, she grinned.

Bill looked very seriously at the both of us. “This is no laughing matter, ladies. Eric glamoured you!”, he said. I shook my head in confusion. “He didn’t…”, I said. “I saw him… He was using his glamour on you”, Bill repeated fervently. “I really don’t think he did. At least I didn’t feel anything happening”, I tried again. “Jeez… I worked for you for five minutes; and you’re already acting like my daddy”, I said.

The vampire looked confused, but Sookie broke the tension, by reminding him they had reservations. “You’re right, of course; sweetheart”, Bill said, and took a piece of paper from the coffee-table. “I made this list for you. On the top here is making an appointment with an electrician. I’ve been having some flickering lights in the kitchen. Of course, I don’t use it much, but I do want it working… Then there’s this case of TruBlood O-neg. The all-night supermarket won’t be getting another shipment for at least a week, and I can’t…”. “Honey? We’re late!”, Sookie sighed. “Where are you going?”, I asked. “A place in Shreveport. Ky-auntie”, Sookie smiled. “Chianti”, Bill said. “And you’re right. Let’s go”.

We all left the house, and walked to our respective cars, when I remembered something. “Hold up!”, I called out. I ripped some of the paper from the list, and quickly wrote down my phone number with an eyeliner from my purse. I ran over to Bill with it. “Here. You never got my number. Just in case anything else comes up”, I said. “Thank you”, Bill smiled. “Any big plans for you tonight?”, he asked. “I have a date with my neighbor’s cat. At least I think he belongs to my neighbor. He might be a stray… We eat tuna together on Thursdays”, I sighed. “I thought you were allergic to cats”, Sookie said from inside the BMW. “Our love is complex… and I take pills”, I said. “Go on now. Have fun”.

I waved them off, as they drove away; and got into my own car. It stalled a few times, before finally starting up, and I could drive home – just in time for my date with Mr. Whiskers. He was only mildly annoyed when I came out the back door 3 minutes late, with his bowl. “Sorry I’m late, honey”, I said. “I had a vampire to tend to”. The cat wailed at me, and attacked the tuna like it hadn’t eaten in weeks.

I lit a cigarette, and sat down on the steps, leaning against the screen door, reading a magazine. Some of my neighbors were having a party, and I enjoyed the music coming out of the window. It was a warm night, but not many mosquitos around. I was happy to be left alone from the little bloodsuckers, when my phone vibrated, and I found myself summoned by a large one. - Need you in Shreveport asap. Bill

I frowned at the phone. - I’m your day person. Nights are off limits.

- Fangtasia. Be there in an hour.

- Remind me to ask for a raise BOSS!, I replied; stomped out my smoke, and went back into the house to look up the address of whatever the hell Fangtasia was. Google let me know it was a vampire bar. Dinner must have been over quickly, and Bill had probably taken Sookie for a drink. I looked down at the attire I was currently wearing, and decided that if Bill insisted on being a jerk-boss, I’d be a jerk employee; and show up in cut off shorts, and ABBA t-shirt – that was fifty sizes to big, and hung off my shoulder – hopefully embarrassing him in front of his friends.

I cursed at Bill all the way to Shreveport. “Stupid vampire, ruining my date with Mr. Whiskers”, I muttered to myself, as I parked my rusty car next to a flashy convertible on the parking lot of the bar. There was a line down to the door, going all the way around the corner of the building. A blonde woman with a bored expression on her face stood at the entrance, turning away anyone she didn’t see fit for entry. I sent Bill a text, letting him know I was outside, and had no intention of waiting in line. He’d have to meet me in the lot.

I leaned against my car, kicking at a stray paper cup on the ground, when a cold finger poked my shoulder. I looked up into the face of the blonde woman. She was striking up close. “Liv Sunday?”, she said, sounding as bored as she looked. “Yeah?”, I said. She gave me an insincere smile. “Follow me…”.

She led me to the entrance of the bar, and a burly doorman lifted the red rope for us so we could walk inside. A song with heavy bass was leading some scantily clad dancers on podiums, and the air was heavy with cheap perfume and sexual frustration. The blonde led me to a table, and waved over a black clad waitress. “Order whatever you want on the house. Ginger will sort you out”, she said. The waitress smiled brightly at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m here to meet Bill”, I said confusedly. The woman rolled her eyes, and walked away. I would have given her the finger, if I wasn’t worried, she’d bite it off. “What can I get you?”, the waitress, Ginger, asked. “The most expensive thing you have that isn’t blood”, I sighed. “Long Island Ice Tea, coming right up!”, she grinned, and walked away; tugging at her tiny top as she did.

I took my phone out of my pocket, and saw I had a new text from a number I didn’t know. - Hello Liv. This is Bill Compton. I would like to extend my gratitude to you for accepting the position as my assistant. I’m writing this as Sookie is powdering her nose; as to not interrupt our evening together. Could I please ask you to add to the list, that I need to get in touch with a florist who knows where to get some sunflowers? Sookie likes them. Thank you very much.

I was deeply confused at this point, and not a little worried. If Bill hadn’t been the one to summon me to Fangtasia, then I was currently in a strange bar, surrounded by vampires, without a companion; just sitting around like a delicious crab leg on a buffet table. Sure, there were humans around, but they all seemed more focused on getting the attention of vampires, than helping me out, if needed be. I texted Sookie. - What’s Bills number? I think someone texted me, pretending to be him.

She responded quickly. - Who? Are you ok? Where are you?

I wrote back. - No idea. I’m in some place called Fangtasia.

I was still holding my phone, when Ginger returned with my drink, and set it down. She seemed about to say something to me; when suddenly she bowed reverently. “Master…”, she said, sounding like she was having a strange sort of orgasm.

I looked up, and saw that Eric Northman was standing by the table, with the blonde female vampire next to him. He gave me a slight smile, and sat down across from me; relaxing against the backrest of the chair. “Jag är inte din budbärare, bare för at du vil knulla en liten människa!”. The blonde seemed annoyed, but I didn’t understand her words. “Slapna av, Pam. Det här är annorlunda”, Eric said. “Fika på hende, då. I don’t give a shit. Just don’t ask me again”, she snarled. ”Pamela!”, Eric said firmly. “Leave us”.

“What’s up her ass?”, I muttered. “Pam doesn’t take it up the ass; she gives it”, Eric said matter-of-factly. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You texted me…”, I said. “I did”, Eric said. “Go away, Ginger”. The waitress backed away, her eyes still on the floor. “Master. Yes, master”. I raised my brows. “Wow…”. I met Erics eyes hesitantly. “Why am I here?”. “Because I wanted to see you…”, he said. He dipped a finger into my drink, and licked it. “Don’t drink this. Someone put drugs in it”.

I swallowed hard – a sudden flashback striking me, taking me to a place I didn’t want to go. “Liv?”, Eric said. “What?”, I snapped. The vampire seemed taken aback. “You’re very brave”, he said. “I don’t know what you mean”, I muttered. “Speaking to me like that… and the text you sent me back, when you thought I was Bill. You obviously don’t know a lot about vampires”. I shrugged, trying my best to seem at ease with the conversation.

“How did you get my number?”, I asked; pushing the drink away gingerly. “I’m not listed”. “I flew over Bills house, as you wrote it down”, Eric said. “I have very good eyesight. You used a .01 Ultra Black eyeliner”. “That’s kind of creepy”, I said. “You’re a flying, creepy guy”. Eric laughed heartily, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “You’re funny”, he said. “It’s like you have no sense of self-preservation”. “Well, I figure you didn’t go through all the trouble of flying over Bills house to get my number; just so you could kill me”, I said. “At least… I hope you didn’t”. Eric looked towards the bar, at the tender behind it. “Chow, get her a fresh one. Make sure it’s drug free”, he said, so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it. I realized the bartender must be a vampire as well; that was the only way he’d be able to hear him. “You don’t have to… I’m fine, really”. “It’s no trouble", Eric assured me. “This is my bar after all. It’s in my interest to keep the patrons happy". “I’m not a patron…”, I said.

Eric ignored my words. “Your t-shirt… I like it”, he said. “I’m related to the blonde, you know…”. “You’re Swedish?”, I asked. A fresh drink appeared in front of me, and I looked at it hesitantly. “It’s safe”, Eric said. “Yes, I’m originally from Sweden…”. “So, you were speaking… Swedish, before?”. Eric nodded. “You name, Liv; it’s actually the Swedish word for life”. “Huh…”, I muttered. “I always thought it was kind of geriatric”. Erics eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Quite the opposite… It suits you. You seem full of life”. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and took a sip from the straw. The drink was delicious. “And… when are you from? If you don’t mind me asking”. “Are you asking how old I am?”, Eric smiled. I blushed, and took a second sip. “I am a little over 1000 years old”.

I choked on my drink, and suddenly, Eric was next to me; gently patting my back with one hand, and holding mine with the other. “Are you alright?”, he said worriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine”, I croaked. I looked up into his eyes, and saw true concern. “Really”, I smiled. Eric sat back down on the chair opposite me; still holding on to my hand. His own was cool, but not cold. I guessed he’d recently fed.

I bit my lip. “Are you really 1000 years old?”, I asked in a whisper. “Yes”, Eric confirmed. “I was a Viking”. My eyes widened. “Like with the… pillaging, plundering and… raping?”, I said. Eric smiled smugly. “I didn’t need to rape to bed a woman; or a man for that matter”. “Huh…”, I said; and took a deep sip from my drink. “Well, you do have that tall, blonde and handsome thing going for you”. He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “You find me handsome?”, he said. “Every person in this room finds you handsome”, I retorted; rolling my eyes. I looked towards a nearby table, where a young woman with obviously dyed black hair was starring at us. When her eyes darted towards me, she looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out.

“Tell me about you…”, Eric said. “Why?”, I asked. “Because it’s only fair”, the viking-vampire said. “In the last ten minutes, I’ve told you my age, occupation, sexual orientation; and I’ve saved you from getting drugged". I was painfully aware that Eric probably had a million different ways of getting what he wanted from me, but for some strange reason, I didn’t think he’d use any of them. Not yet anyway. None the less, I still didn’t see his reason for wanting to know. “I meant, why are you asking?”, I said.

Eric played absentmindedly with my fingers – or maybe not so absentmindedly; as he seemed to know exactly where and how to stroke my fingers in a way, that sent signals straight to my core. "You’re interesting“, he said. “And Bill interrupted me before I could finish my glamour on you, to get you to tell me". I chuckled softly. “You didn’t glamour me", I said. “Of course I did", Eric retorted. “Sorry, but I think you have little too much faith in your own abilities“.

He let go of my hand, and sat back straight in his chair. For a long time, he didn’t speak, just starred at me, before his pupils suddenly dilated, and a tranquil and yet almost flirtatious expression spread over his face. “Liv…”, he said softly. “Tell me; what’s your favorite sexual position?”. My jaw dropped. “That’s absolutely none of your business!”, I growled. Eric looked completely confused, and even paler than his usual pasty shade. He furrowed his brows, and moved his head forwards; almost crouching in his chair, as to reach my eye-level. “You want to tell me, Liv", he said, his voice alluring. Abso-fucking-lutely I wanted to tell him; but not under our current circumstances. As it was, Eric was being completely inappropriate, and I had no intention of continuing our conversation. I stood up. “Thanks for the drink. Now, if you don’t mind, please go to hell".

I walked towards the door, and made it halfway through the crowd, when suddenly, Eric was standing in front of me. He looked almost enraged, and towered over me menacingly; starring into my eyes so hard, I could almost feel it physically. “Liv. You want to tell me about yourself", he boomed. “I want to go home!”, I hissed, trying to pass the imposing vampire. He moved slightly, making me have to brush against his chest with my shoulder. Eric’s hand was suddenly on my upper arm. I froze in place, as he lifted my hair slightly, breathing in my scent. “What are you?”, he asked in a low voice, his cool breath sending annoyingly pleasurable shivers down my spine. I looked up into his eyes again; and jumped a bit, when his fangs popped out. The deepest, darkest part of me wanted to put my finger to one of them, and see how sharp they were.

“Eric!”, Bills voice boomed over the music. Sookie came out from behind him, walked straight up to the 6’4 inches vampire, and hit him over the shoulder with her purse. “Looks like that’s two dates you’ve ruined tonight”, I said. Eric smiled. “But ours was going so well”, he said; his fangs retracting again. “This wasn’t a date…”, I said. “This was you tricking me into meeting you”, I hissed. “You had another date tonight?”, he asked, darkness ghosting his face. I gave him a sarcastic smile, and pulled my arm out of his grasp, stomping out of the club, past Pam. She looked amused at the situation, and stepped back to let me get to the parking lot.

With shaking hands, I opened my car door. Bill and Sookie weren’t far behind me. “I am very sorry, Liv”, Bill said. “Had I known there was a chance Eric would…”. “Forget it, Bill”, I said. “I’ll take care of the things on your list tomorrow. Right now, I just want to go home… I’m sorry I ruined your date”. “It’s not your fault”, Sookie said earnestly. “Do you want us to follow you home in Bills car?”. “No, I’ll be fine… Just, go salvage whatever you can of your night”, I said. I gave Sookie a half hug, and nodded at Bill.

Eric was staring at my car, as I drove away. I saw him exchanging a few words with Pam, before he went back inside Fangtasia.

---

I had the next day off from Merlotte’s, and after I – once again – slept in, I had plenty of time to take care of my errands for Bill. When I got back home from having dropped of a case of O-neg on his porch, I texted him the info of an electrician and a florist who could help him out with his other requirements.

My mail had arrived while I was gone, and as I got ready for a night of serving beer, I looked through the bills and catalogues; finding among them an envelope without sender. Inside was a picture of a young woman in a seductive pose, wearing very little. I recognized myself immediately. It had been taken my last night at my old job at Sugar and Spice – a night I didn’t remember much from, due to a drink I should never have accepted. I almost fell into a kitchen chair, and shuddered. I put my hand to my chest, remembering the wound I’d earned that night.

He’d found me. I wasn’t surprised. Though my number and address weren’t listed, if Thomas wanted something, he’d get it; he had a way of talking himself in to things. Either that, or he’d use brute force. The thing that made me confused, was the fact that Thomas wasn’t even supposed to remember me. I was supposed to be just another dancer he’d taken pictures of, at the club.

I was startled when my phone suddenly rang. I picked it up, when I saw it was Sam. “Hey…”, I croaked. “Hey, Luce’… I’m really sorry to ask you this, but Coby has the mumps, and Arlene needs to…”. “You need me tonight?”, I asked, almost hopefully. I didn’t want to be alone. “You’d be doing me a big favor…”, Sam said. “I’ll be there”. “Thanks, cher’. I’ll give you tomorrow off instead”, he replied in a relieved voice. “No problem what so ever”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few”. I hung up, and hurried getting ready for work.

Merlotte’s was full of people; which was pretty typical for a Friday night. The tips would be pretty good, and I wouldn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Sookie handed me a clean apron, and I tied it around my waist, avoiding her gaze. “You seem out of sorts”, she muttered, as I tied up my hair in a bun. “Seem? Or are you listening in…?”, I said. She looked suddenly sad. “I’m sorry, Sookie… It’s been a hard day”. She smiled a little. “I can’t read you as well as I can some other people, you know”, she said. “Whatever comes through, is usually just colors and emotions. But they’re pretty intense, so I try to avoid them”. “Why?”, I asked. “I don’t know”, she shrugged. “It’s just like that with some folks… Makes it easier to be your friend, though”. I squeezed her hand, and walked out to take some orders.

Hoyt and Jason were nursing beers in a corner, and I walked over to check on them. “Everything good here?”. “Much better, now you’re here”, Jason winked. “You know, I saw your car out back. It ain’t looking good. I’d be happy to give you a ride, when you clock out”. “I’m sure you would, but I’m not in the mood for crabs tonight”. Hoyt laughed heartily, and Jason smiled and shook his head. “Any food for you gentlemen?”, I asked. “LaFayette has some gumbo cooking tonight”. “Sounds good. Hoyt?”, Jason said. “Two bowls, then”, Hoyt smiled. “Coming right up”, I said, and took their order to the serving hatch; winking at LaFayette in the kitchen.

For the next few hours, I pushed away all thoughts of possessive men, and focused on earning my wages. Bill stopped by to give Sookie a kiss, and thanked me for my help so far; leaving me another list. “Just some time next week, will be fine”, he said. “You’re welcome to text me, Bill”, I said. “I dislike using the keys to type”, the vampire grumbled. “I prefer the old-fashioned way of writing”. “Did you use a quill?”, I asked, giving him a sly smile. “Just a no. 2 pencil”, he retorted. “And once again; I’m sorry…”. I groaned. “Please, stop… Nothing happened. I’m perfectly fine”.

Sookie gave me a slight look, which Bill caught immediately. “You’re not. What is wrong?”. “Sookie!”, I sighed. “Sorry! You’re pretty much radiating fear, honey”, she said. Bill looked at me earnestly. “I will do my best to keep you safe from Eric”, he said. “I don’t want you to worry about him”. “I’m not scared of Eric… No more than the next person, anyway”, I assured him; and walked towards the bar, to grab a tray of beers. Sookie followed me there. “What, then?”, she asked. I clenched my jaw. “Could you give this to Jane Bodehouse? I’m gonna go take my break”, I said.

I almost ran out the back door, and lit a cigarette. Sam was putting a bag of trash in the container, when I got there. “Everything alright?”, he asked. “Why is everyone asking me that?”, I almost snarled. Sam seemed taken aback. “Sorry… I’m just… It’s been a day”. “We all have those”, Sam said. “You want to talk about it?”. “Not really”, I said.

Sam scratched his head. “How’s it going, working for Bill Compton?”, he asked. “Fine, so far. It’s an easy gig”, I said. “Don’t worry, it won’t get in the way of my work here”. “I know. I just worry about you, is all”, he said. “You’ve had a strange look on your face all night”. I sighed deeply, not wanting to give away too much. “I got word from an old… acquaintance”, I said. “I’d hoped to avoid it”. “Ex?”, Sam muttered. “Not really…”. I swallowed hard. “Sam… If I… If some day I don’t come in to work… It’s not because I’m playing hookie”. “That sounds ominous…”, Sam said. “Just… I like this job. Bon Temps”, I said. “I’m happy here. So, if suddenly, I’m not around… I didn’t just skip town, ok?”. Sam walked up to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Liv, talk to me. What’s going on?”. Sookie stuck her head out. “Sam, we need to call Jane’s son again. She’s passed out on the pool table…”. Sam rolled his eyes, and went back inside, leaving me to smoke in peace.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had a text; from Eric, of all people. - When can I see you again?

I rolled my eyes. - How do I know you’re not watching me now?

The reply came within seconds. - You don’t. But I’m not. Do you want me to? I decided against replying, and went back inside – chiding myself for indeed wanting that.

When I got back home, I collapsed on my bed fully clothed – but not before having checked to see if all windows and doors were safely closed and locked. Even without A/C, I’d rather sweat than risk someone coming into the house while I slept.

My phone vibrated, and when I saw who was calling, I picked it up. “What?”, I said. “Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”, Eric said. Loud music was thundering in the background. I looked at the screen of my phone, and saw that I had multiple unread texts. “Because I was working. And because I didn’t want to”, I said. That last part was a lie. “What are you wearing?”, he asked. “A leather garter belt, and a top hat”, I sneered. “Really?”. I could hear his smile. “No. Goodnight, Eric”. “Read your messages”, he managed to say, before I hung up.

I more or less had to pry my eyes open to read the messages the vampire had sent me. - I’m not used to have my messages ignored. Well, get used to it, I thought. - I could come by your job. Just say the word. - I want to see you soon. When? At least he was asking, and not telling me. That was a step up from what I was used to. - Please. That one must have hurt. I sent him a message back. - I’ll let you know. And if you insist on texting more than a teenage girl, I’ll reply like one. Ttyl lol rofl xoxo

As soon as I’d dropped my phone on the bed, I smacked my forehead. I’d written xo. That thought kept me awake for hours, and I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up again.

---

As soon as I woke a little after noon, I rushed out to handle Bills errands. He’d given me until the week after, but as I saw the picture sent to me laying on my kitchen table, I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in the house. I even called Sam to ask if he was absolutely sure he didn’t need me at the bar; but he all but told me that if he saw me anywhere near Merlotte’s, he’d throw me over his shoulder, and carry me home, so I could enjoy my day off.

A little after sunset, there was a knock on my door, and I was slightly startled to see Eric on my small porch. I swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”, I asked. “I was in the neighborhood; and thought I’d save you the trouble of texting me, when you’d be able to see me”, he said. “Besides, I don’t want you driving that rust bucket all the way to Shreveport again. It’s a death-trap”. He looked towards my car, in the driveway. “You can see me now”, I said. “Wonderful”, he said, and once again dug his eyes into mine. “Invite me in”. “No…”, I said. He once again looked confused. “Why can’t I glamor you?”, he asked. “I don’t know… Maybe you’re impotent”. Eric barred his fangs; making me jump slightly. He looked dangerous. “Not nearly”, he said. “You shouldn’t test me”.

Not wanting him to think he’d scared me too much, I took a hesitant step out of the door, putting less than a foot between us. Eric smelled like nothing I’d ever encountered before. It was crisp, and yet warm; like expensive aftershave and salt water, with an undertone of something I couldn’t define – something musky.

“I don’t understand why you keep wanting to talk to me”, I said. “I get it, I’m human. Blood and sex, and all that… But you have a club full of willing participants to whatever it is you wanna do”. Eric nodded. “I know. It’s infuriating that I feel the need to be here”, he said. “But I think I found a fix for it”. “Oh?”, I croaked, doing my best to ignore the fact that a man, that looked more or less like a GQ model, was currently reaching out his hand to stroke my cheek. As his fingertips touched my skin, my breath hitched. “Yes. See, when I have sex with a human, I usually bore with them pretty quickly”, Eric said. “I thought we should just get it over with, so I can move on”. I took a step back, and my back hit the screen door. “I don’t want to have sex with you!”, I lied. “Of course you do. I’m a very good lover”, Eric smiled. “Now, invite me in, and I’ll undress you”. “Shove it up your ass!”, I said. Eric raised a brow at me. “Well, it’s been a while, but I’m up for it if you are”.

I scrambled to open the screen door, and get back inside the house. My body was screaming at me to give in to the sensation in my lower belly, but I told myself that I had to persist. “You should… go now”, I said. Eric stepped closer to me, and I felt his firm chest against my back. “Why?”, he asked, sounding genuinely confused again. “You’re… imposing”, I croaked, and turned to meet his eyes. They were piercing mine, sending tingles down my spine. “Stop trying to glamour me” “I’m not. It doesn’t seem to work on you”, he said; a hint of regret in his voice. “Though I wonder… would you let me test a theory?”. “What theory?”. Eric smiled. “Just humor me. Pam?”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, when the blonde female vampire suddenly stood next to Eric; and hurried over the threshold, so neither of them could reach me. “What the hell?”, I said. “Yeah, Eric. What the hell? I’ve been waiting behind that tree forever. In my new Jimmy Choo’s”, Pam said. “Be nice, Pam”, Eric said. Pam drew her lips back in an insincere smile. “Hello, Liv. I am very glad to see you”, she said. “Happy?”. She looked out the corner of her eyes at Eric.

Eric gave her a look, and something unspoken passed between them. Pam seemed to shrink in front of me. “Liv, I would like you to let Pam try to glamour you”, he said. “What? No!”, I exclaimed. “I want to know if it’s…”. “Just you?”, I said. For the first time, Eric wouldn’t meet my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Fine. But I’m not coming outside”. Eric nodded. “Pam, try to glamour her. But don’t ask her to come outside where we can reach her”. He was trying to make me feel safe – it was almost endearing.

Pam took a step forward, and looked deep into my eyes. Her voice was soothing. “Liv… You want to invite Eric inside. You want to have sex with him”. I shook my head. “No… Not happening”, I said. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “You… want to invite me inside… Have sex with me”. “No thank you”, I snarled. Pam stepped back, and began laughing. “What the actual fuck?”, she guffawed. “What are you?”. Eric stepped in between us, his back to me. “Thank you, Pamela. You can leave now”, he said. “Eric! She’s…”, Pam began. “Now!”, Eric growled. She disappeared as fast as she’d come.

Eric stood there for a moment, not turning to face me. I was about to close the door, when he spoke again. “I’m making you mine… And getting you a better car”. “The hell, you are", I sputtered. He spun around with wide eyes. “You’re saying… no?”, he asked bemusedly. “I’m not anyone’s; let alone yours”. Eric chuckled at me. “I just claimed you”. “Well you can shove that claim up your ass, as well”, I proclaimed. “You wanted me to tell you about myself”, I said. He didn’t respond, simply stood still and never diverted his eyes from mine. “I left San Diego to get away from a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer… I’m not about to throw myself into the arms of another one who does the same”, I said. “This… guy”, Eric said. “Did he hurt you?”. There was an angry edge to his voice. I looked down, and crossed my arms in front of me. “He did… It’s over. But only because I ran away”, I said. “He… It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want that again”.

For a long moment, he just looked at me; making me swallow to wet my dry mouth. “Alright”, he finally said calmly. “Are we finished?”, I asked, almost in a whisper. “We’re finished”, he said. “For now”. Eric lowered his head, looking earnestly at me. “As long as you say no to me, I won’t do anything”, he said. “I will not force myself on you, Liv”. “Why?”, I asked, genuinely surprised. “Do you want me to? I don’t mind playing games…”, Eric smiled. I shook my head. “Never mind. I thought we were having a moment here, but it’s gone”. I went to close the door in his face. “Liv!”, Eric said; his voice imposing. I halted, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why… But I will not”.

He turned around, and walked down the steps from my small porch. I took a deep breath, before running after him. He heard me coming, and turned around. “Thank you… For at least kind of taking no for an answer”, I said. I tugged at his jacket, to get him to lower his head, and I got on my toes; placing a kiss on his cheek. Once again, I was surprised to find his skin not icy, but simply cool; and I let my lips linger for a moment.

I was about to turn back, when Eric put both his hands on my shoulders, and looked me square in the face. I could tell he wasn’t trying to glamour me. “Be mine”, he said. My breath hitched, and everything in me screamed say yes!. “N-no, Eric… No, I can’t do that”. Eric looked as if I’d slapped him. My phone vibrated, and I took it from my pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Bill… I have to take this".

Erics face dropped, and he let go of me. “Goodnight, sunshine”, he said, and walked away into the darkness. “Eric!”, I called after him. “I regret picking up your keys for you”, Eric replied, his back still to me. “I would have loved to see you bend over”.

---

#eric northman #eric northman fic #eric northman x oc #true blood #bill compton

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yadds · 4 years ago

Text

Heyyyy so guess who’s not dead! Anyway, for anyone that’s interested, I’ve decided that I’m not posting ongoing works until I’m done with them then will post as I’m editing. Sorry! However, I do have an excerpt that I like a bit that can stand alone, so here it is! Also, despite the sexual nature of the initial conversation, this is pre-starker and isn’t really much about sex.

Minor background info: Tony has come back from the dead and is still with Pepper but they’re having issues. Meanwhile, the Starker bromance is developing and they hang out quite a bit.

____________________________________________________________________

“Spit or swallow?” Peter asked out of the blue as they sat on the couch watching reality tv.

Tony’s eyebrows were about to climb right into his hairline. “Excuse me?”

“Spit or swallow?” he repeated, over enunciating. “What are your thoughts?”

“Just to be clear, we’re talking about…” Tony trailed off slowly.

“You know, bjs. Blowies. I’m sure you’ve gotten one once or twice,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes, tossing several pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

“Yeah, might have happened on a rare occasion,” Tony responded dryly. “Well, honestly I can take it or leave it on the receiving end, doesn’t make that much of a difference to me.”

Peter’s head tilted back and forth, considering, before shrugging.

“When giving though, I generally don’t like either. Don’t get me wrong, I love going down on people and making them feel good, but I prefer if they don’t finish in my mouth. Obviously I’ve done it before and may very well do it again so I guess I’d probably say swallow? It’s already there, so why make a mess?”

Peter’s attention was now fully on Tony, the TV forgotten in the background. Tony glanced over and smiled wryly when he saw his gaping mouth and red cheeks. “What’s with the stunned mullet impression? Did you not literally just ask that question? Am I going senile already?”

Peter cleared his throat and turned back to face the tv again. “Uh, yeah, I uh I did ask. But I was thinking more on the receiving end - I wasn’t expecting you to talk about giving.”

One of Tony’s brows crept back up. “Oh? And why is that? Because you think I’m a selfish asshole in bed as well or because you think I’m shy?”

Peter shook his head quickly, not catching the amused tilt of Tony’s lips. “No, no of course not! I just didn’t know that you, uh, you know, partake, in partners of the, uh, male persuasion?” If Peter shoveled any more popcorn into his mouth after the desperate handful he just shoved in there, he was going to suffocate.

“Huh,” Tony said thoughtfully. Had they really never talked about this before? “Well, weird phrasing aside (because that was weird, kid, what’s up with that?), I thought it was pretty common knowledge that I was bisexual.”

Peter shook his head again, glancing back Tony’s way. “Nope, definitely not. At least not in any of the articles or interviews online. I mean, yeah, there are a few sources that mention the possibility of you not being completely straight, but they all sound like speculation.”

Tony was speechless for a minute. He watched Peter notice the extended silence and seem to realize what he just said, curling forward and burying his face in his hands, ears bright red.

He finally gathered enough wits to say, “Well, then I guess it was just common knowledge among people who actually know me. SI probably paid off the men I slept with - because heaven forbid the infamous playboy figurehead be seen with a man back in the day. I honestly never paid attention to what exactly was in the press, just made sure I was in it. If I’d known, I definitely would have been more blatantly obvious.”

He was quiet again for about five seconds before he pulled his leg up on the couch and fully turned towards Peter. “I’m sorry, I tried, but I can’t just let this go. I knew you were a big fan, but sounds like you’ve really done your research, Pete.” He couldn’t drop the shit-eating grin on his face.

Peter flopped all the way forward, shoving his face into his knees, groaning. “Can we not do this?” he whined. It only took another ten seconds of pointed silence before Peter broke. “Ugh, okay, so I may have had a crush on you when I was younger,” he admitted. “A teeny tiny, definitely not life-consuming, crush.”

Tony laughed. “And when was this?”

“I don’t know, it started when I was like 13 probably.”

“And you thought you should google my sexuality to see if, what, you had a chance with the guy four times your age that you’d never meet?” Tony didn’t think he’d been this amused in a long time.

Peter sat back up and peeked at him just to throw him a glare. “Yes, because thirteen year olds are so logical, especially when it comes to hormonal urges.”

“Never would have pegged you for being into older men.”

“Really? Because most people aren’t surprised - I apparently just radiate ‘twink with a daddy kink’,” Peter said matter-of-factly.

Tony choked, coughing loudly. “I’m sorry, did you just, in a roundabout way, call me a Daddy? In a way that has nothing to do with my daughter?”

“I- can we talk about something else now?” Peter squeaked.

“That...is probably a good idea,” Tony agreed, feeling his own cheeks heat.

They both stared very intently at the TV, trying to think of anything else.

After a while, Peter spoke up. “Why would you do it again?”

“What?” Tony asked, confused.

“Sorry, I’m back on the spit or swallow question,” Peter explained.

Now it was Tony’s turn to groan. “I thought we were talking about something else.”

“Yeah, something that’s not my personal and very embarrassing past. Now that I have the question, I can’t think of anything else.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine. So why would I do what again, exactly? Give a blow job?”

“Well, I mean, that too, considering that you’re still with Pepper and I’m 99.9999% sure she doesn’t have the right equipment for that. But I was talking about spitting or swallowing. Why would you do either? You said you don’t like it.”

“Relationships are about compromise Pete, even in the bedroom. And I don’t hate it when I’m in the mood for it.”

“What a ringing endorsement,” Peter said flatly. “Yeah, there’s gotta be some compromise, but that should be more along the lines of maybe trying new things that you may not have done on your own but are open to. Doing something you definitively, straight up don’t like in bed should not be one of them.”

Tony looked at Peter, perplexed. “I...don’t even know what to say to that. When did you become an expert in this?”

Peter shrugged. “You’d be surprised how much of my time as Spiderman is spent just lending an ear when people are having a hard time. And sex and relationships come up a lot because I guess it’s easier to talk to a random person in a mask than to someone you know. I try to just listen and not to give advice most of the time, since I’m not an expert and everyone’s situation is different, but sometimes people are in circumstances that are dangerous, emotionally and mentally. So I took a couple relationship health and psychology classes my freshman year in college and read up on some of these things to know what to say.”

Tony’s heart warmed, hearing how earnestly Peter wanted to help people. He smiled softly. “Never thought you’d use that on Tony Stark, did you?” he joked.

Peter scoffed. “Please, you were like, the poster child for a lot of these issues. I like to think you’ve finally gotten wiser in your ‘old age’, but I’ve mentally given you several high-handed pep talks.”

Tony was taken aback. “Oh? And what was the subject of these pep talks?”

“Mostly self-worth and your complete lack of it.”

Tony chuckled again. “Well maybe you haven’t heard, but I actually have an unrealistically high opinion of myself, kid.”

“Yeah, do you think that if you keep talking about it loudly enough, you might start believing it?” Peter asked, eyebrow raised.

“Excuse me? I am one of the richest, smartest people on the damn planet. I single-handedly created a superhero while a prisoner in a cave. I created clean energy that can power the planet and I’m pretty sure I’m damn close to being able to end poverty,” Tony rebuked, getting irritated.

“I know, so why do you still feel like it’s not enough?” Peter asked with a shrug, pointedly not looking at him. “All those amazing accomplishments, things no one else would be able to do, but how often do you think about that instead of the few mistakes you’ve made?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Get out of my fucking head, kid,” he grunted.

Peter turned to him with a grin. “You think I should change my degree plan and become a shrink?”

“Definitely not. You’re pretty much done anyway and I need you in my labs, not consoling lunatics like me.”

Peter reeled back exaggeratedly. “You’re quite presumptuous, Mr. Stark, assuming I’ll be working for you.”

“You’d better,” Tony insisted.

“Is that a threat?” Peter asked cheekily.

“Definitely.”

Laughing, Peter settled back into the cushions and resumed his popcorn eating.

After several minutes of watching TV in silence, Peter turned back to Tony. “You know I still think you’re just as amazing as you try to say you are, right?”

Glancing at Peter out of the corner of his eye, he shook his head at Peter’s earnest expression. “No clue why,” he said wryly. “But yeah, I know. Thanks, kid,” Tony said, smile soft as his hand came up to grip the back of Peter’s neck before pulling him into a hug.

Tony cleared his throat and sat back before saying gruffly, “Now shut up and watch...whatever the hell it is you’re making me watch.”

Peter snorted but kept his mouth shut. And as he settled more comfortably under Tony’s arm, his back pressed up against Tony’s side as Tony’s arm draped across Peter’s chest, Tony had to wonder if this is one of the things Pepper had been talking about.

But as he felt the warmth of Peter pressed against him, felt the soft rise and fall of his breathing, felt the proof that Peter was alive and safe, Tony shook away the thought.

_____________________________________________________________________

So I’m starting to see a pattern - I tend to write like hell during the fall and winter and not during the summer at all. So apparently I have an off-season lol. Hopefully the pattern continues for the next few months and I can get a few projects finished!

#starker #pre-starker #starker endgame #fic #ficlet #yadds writes #idek #im so out of practice tagging #and i just don't care right now

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nostalgiabones · 4 years ago

Text

Pool Day // L.H

Here’s another little Luke and Delilah blurb! Let’s ignore the fact that he’s drinking a beer in the photo above and just think about him in a pool on an inflatable😌♥️ As always, feedback and requests are appreciated!

“Who’s ready for a pool day?”

Luke’s question is met with a squeal, followed by an excited giggle as the ten month old on the bed looks up at him. She’s dressed in her swim suit — a baby pink colour, decorated with tiny flowers and butterflies — all ready for him to take her in the pool.

Now that the intensity of the LA summer was finally settling down, it was much more bearable for Delilah to spend time in — meaning you and Luke could be less worried about burning her delicate skin. She had started to take more interest in the pool, having to be held back from it whenever she crawled too close to the water — Luke’s heartrate spiking everytime she went near.

“Now, I know you’re not gonna like me for this, but if you want to go in the pool, it has to be done, okay?” Luke consults Delilah, grabbing her feet and gently pulling them down so she’s laid against the soft sheets. Almost as if she knows what he’s going to do, she tries to crawl away from him, but Luke is too quick. “No no, just stay still for 2 minutes, okay? Do you think you can do that?”

“Do you need backup?” You ask, laughing as you watch Luke try to get Delilah to not escape his grasp, so he can cover her in suncream before they go outside. “What do you want me to do? Hold her down or put the cream on?”

Luke laughs at your question, the phrase “hold her down” becoming one that’s being used more often in your household, with Delilah at the age of wanting to explore everything she can. She’s so close to walking, now being able to hold herself up against most things in reach — meaning she’s also able to see and touch many more things. Everything is an adventure in her eyes, no matter the situation.

“Hmm, can you just distract her?” He replies, hoping you’ll be able to catch her attention enough for him to lather some of the cream at least onto her legs and arms. Her face would be an added extra.

Deciding peek-a-boo is your best option, you get her attention — hiding your own face before jumping out at her and being met with giggles. She’s distracted by Luke when he begins to smooth suncream all over her legs, and she responds by kicking her legs at him, trying to push his hands away.

“Hey, you,” Luke chuckles, knowing he’s halfway there now her legs are done. “No kicking daddy, baby. I promise I’m almost done, okay? One more minute.”

She babbles as he manages to cover her arms and shoulders in suncream, before taking a small amount in his fingers and smoothing it over her cheeks quickly. He leans over her, so she’s looking right at him — hopefully stopping her tears in their tracks by planting kisses in the hollow of her neck, to make her giggle.

“See, all done!” He reassures her, picking her up from under her arms and sitting her on his hip. He brushes her unruly curls away from her face, making a mental note that she needs a haircut — although he can’t bear the thought of anyone going near her precious hair. “All ready to go.”

He carries her out to the garden and you follow behind, wanting to watch the first time she experiences the pool properly. Luke sits down at the edge of the water, so only his feet are submerged, Delilah sat in his lap. The cool water is refreshing on his skin, and he can only imagine it’ll feel the same for her. Noises of excitement and curiousity spill from her lips, already trying to reach out for the water so she can touch it with her hands.

“Okay, okay, are you ready, baby? We’ll just dip your toes in.” Luke tells her, holding her underneath her arms and carefully dipping her little feet into the water. At first she curls them up, not sure how to react, but only a moment later, she’s splashing in the water beneath her. “What’s that like, huh? Do you like it?”

“Oooo,” She exclaims, kicking at the water beneath her as she gets used to it.

“I think that’s a yes.” You smile at the two of them, holding your phone to take a few photos of the sweet moment, before joining them at the edge of the pool.

“Shall we go all the way in?” Luke asks her, assuming that she‘ll enjoy it based on her initial reaction. He holds her back on his hip, supporting her with one arm as he pushes away from the edge of the wall with another. Delilah clings to his shoulder as they’re submerged with water, the level at the middle of Luke’s chest. He brushes his lips over her cheek, soft and sticky with suncream, a sign of reassurance that he’s there. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, it’s okay.”

He slowly moves around the shallow end of the pool, letting her get used to the water and splash him as much as she likes, before he spots the float at the other end of the pool. He moves a little closer to you, asking a “can you take her for a minute, babe?” before he’s swimming to the other end to get the float.

Jumping up onto it, Delilah’s eyes widen as the bright white and pink’s of the float catch her attention from your spot in her lap. She’s instantly trying to reach out to him, her arms held out in a grabby motion to get him to take her.

“You want to come up here with me, baby?”

Luke manages to clumsily manoeuvre his way over to you and Delilah, using one hand to keep himself anchored to the side of the pool, the other reaching out to secure the baby in his lap as you set her down.

The happy sounds and the smile lighting up Delilah’s face melts your heart as you watch her, happily laying back against Luke as he pushes away from the side of the pool with a “here we go!”

Her laughter doesn’t falter as he keeps her entertained, splashing her legs with water, all whilst making sure she wasn’t about to throw herself into the pool. You have some time to yourself and read a book, happy to listen to their content noises whilst they play together and you can relax.

It’s not long before the two of them go quiet and you hear a “um... babe?” and you look up in confusion, wondering why you can no longer hear Delilah’s happy laughter.

You can‘t help but laugh as you spot the issue — Delilah, fast asleep, laid with her back against Luke’s chest as they float around the pool. He’s got his arms resting on her legs, holding her at the awkward angle she’s fallen asleep at, to make sure she doesn’t slip.

“Oh my god,” You chuckle, clapping your hand over your mouth at the sight, wondering how she’s managed to fall asleep so quickly when they were having fun just moments earlier. “How did that happen? Did you bore her?”

“No!” He replies, his voice a loud whisper in case he wakes her up. To Delilah, it’s like any other nap — it seems as though she’s unaware of the unusual surroundings as she wriggles against him, trying to get comfortable, Luke’s heart stopping in case she manages to fall off of his knee. “I need to move her,”

You try not to laugh even more as he shifts her against his chest, making sure he’s got her — an arm around her back to hold her snug against him, as she buries her face in his neck. It doesn’t faze her, though, she just stays asleep, cuddling into him as he pats her back.

“What do I do?” Luke asks, realising that he’s in the middle of the pool, he can’t reach the edge and you can’t get to him either.

“You’re just gonna have to wait it out, Luke.” You reply, knowing there’s nothing either of you can do until he ends up near the edge. Delilah hasn’t noticed the difference — tucked up in his arms, she’s content to sleep wherever, as long as Luke’s there. “She looks pretty comfy, I guess we’ll just have an early nap time today. Just make sure she doesn’t fall.”

You know Luke won’t let that happen, especially with how securely he’s got her in his arms, yet you can’t help but picture her plunging into the pool half asleep. Every time she so much as wiggles, he pulls her closer, tucking a curl behind her ear, listening to her steady breathing as she sleeps.

“Honey, can you help?” He asks, finally reaching close enough to the edge of the pool, so you can get her. You stand up from your spot, still laughing at the situation as you make your way over to where he’s ended up. Luke’s foot lands on the edge, able to hold himself there whilst he very carefully sits up, pulling Delilah away from his chest and passing her up to you.

“Shhh,” You whisper, trying to stop her whimpers before they turn into full cries, cradling her in your arms and rocking her for a minute whilst she settles. She clings to you, pressing her face against your neck in her half asleep state. “It’s okay, bub. I know, daddy is comfy isn’t he?”

Luke manages to get himself out of the pool as you carry her towards the outside sofa, sitting down so she can nap on you in the shade. Luke wraps a towel around his body, drying off quickly before sitting down next to you.

“My sleepy girl,” He murmurs, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you a little closer. He reaches his hand to brush over her cheeks, pushing the soft curls away from her face as she sleeps. “Well, I think the pool was a success.”

You scoff, narrowing your eyes at him with a laugh, followed by “yeah, until she fell asleep and almost fell in the pool.”

“I did not!” He replied, resting his head against yours — the one not occupied by Delilah sleeping. He watches her as she snoozes, listening to her steady breathing, soothed by the sound. “You know I wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Mhm,” You murmur, basking in the serene feeling of the moment, content just to sit together. “I know, baby. I was just kidding.”

You notice how the weight of Luke’s head against yours becomes heavier, his own eyes closing in favour of a post-pool nap. “Come on, sleepy head. I’m not sure I can take the weight of both of you sleeping on me.”

Luke groans, sitting up and brushing his lips against yours before you both stand up. Whilst carrying Delilah through the house, you make sure she stays asleep before setting her down in her crib so she can nap properly. You enter your bedroom, finding Luke already flat out on your side of the bed, his face buried in your pillow.

“Looks like I have two sleepy babies.”

***

Masterlist

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#posting this to try and distract myself akdhsjd #5sos blurbs #luke hemmings blurbs #dad!5sos blurbs #dad 5sos blurbs #dad!luke blurbs #dad!luke #lhblurb #myblurbs #mywriting #lukeanddelilah #5 seconds of summer blurbs

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getlitaesthetic · 5 years ago

Note

But how would the dark brothers react to cannon brothers, I feel like they would ridicule and make fun of how they treat mc saying their weak or somthing.

ALSO ASKED: How do you think the dark alternate brothers react with the other brothers? Like the dark lucifer seeing his alternate and MC happily together?

Alright! Time for more mirror antics! Wherein we get the dark brother’s side of things! Prepare for a lot of grossed out demons, and a parallel storyline. As always, all brother prompts get long, so the rest is under the cut!

BEGINNING:

“Good, you all made it,” Diavolo grinned, his sharp teeth still sticky with drying blood. “Today, we shall all rival Barbatos in ability, for a moment.”

“The fuck does that mean?” Mammon replied sharply, arms crossing over his chest, before Lucifer’s hand collided with the back of his head and he hissed out a breath. “Goddammit!”

In front of them, was what was quite obviously a standing mirror covered in an elegant white cloth, stained with red. “A mirror?” Asmodeus crooned, stepping forwards to brush his fingers over the silk that hid his reflection from himself. “Oh, might I?” He bat his eyelashes at the Prince of the Devildom, who was laughing wildly. Diavolo grabbed the Avatar of Lust by the throat, lifting him from the ground, and throwing him into the opposite wall. Asmo moaned, rolling to his feet as he collided heavily with the floor. “Now, now, Daddy Dia, if you wanted to play, you should have just said so...”

“We’ll go in order of age,” Lucifer cut him off with a glare, to the exasperated eye roll of Satan. “Do you have an issue with that, brother?”

“I have work to do, so if we could hurry this along? You’ve yet to explain the... necessity of looking into a mirror. We have those at the House of Lamentation.”

“Very well!” Diavolo moved along the line, making sure the demons were in order, before he stood beside the mirror, pulling the cloth away with flourish. He presented it proudly. It was gilded, the glass reflecting brightly, as if it was brand new, but it looked quite old. “This was a gift from my father. When you look into it, you’re meant to be able to see what you’re doing in an alternate dimension. Exciting, isn’t it? I’ve decided to use you as my guinea pigs. Lucifer, you’re first.”

LUCIFER:

The prideful demon sighed, stepping in front of the mirror, filling it with his massive form. He stared intently at his own reflection, waiting for something to happen. It wasn’t long before the wish was granted, and the glass began to shudder and melt into liquid. Lucifer cocked his head, interested now in the artifact, his fingers running the width of the mirror, but it didn’t give under his touch. Suddenly, a picture began to appear. In it, was the Devildom, but nothing like he had ever known it. It... looked more like the human realm, on a warm, calm night. Lights from cozy little shops reflected off the wet pavement.

There, from around the corner, came himself. This was not the demon he knew himself to be, this version looked weak, over anything. He was small, in a casual human form with peacock feather patterns decorating his cloak. How utterly ridiculous, Lucifer thought to himself, focusing on the image. He wasn’t alone, there. Ah, MC. Well, at least this strange mirror version of himself still had a pet.

Or, no, that wasn’t right. MC was dressed ridiculously, not matching the other Lucifer in the slightest. They clung to his arm, giggling as he helped them over a puddle on the ground, gesturing to the movie theater. “So? Which movie would you like to see?” He heard himself question, and the true demon grimaced.

MC leaned up, and pressed a kiss to the mirror creature’s cheek, lacing their fingers together as they mumbled an answer. Lucifer felt sick to his stomach. What kind of demon had such capacity for kindness? It was disgusting, he wanted to force them both to their knees. MC’s throat ought to be opened for such behavior, and his own? Punishable by death. Lucifer couldn’t help the way his fists clenched, a snarl building in his throat as he turned away, the mirror solidifying behind him.

“Filth,” was all he had to say as he moved to stand at Diavolo’s side.

MAMMON:

Greed cracked his knuckles as he stepped up, the grin on his face dirty and wide as he squared himself in front of the mirror. “Alright, you glitzy fucker, show me what I’m missing!” Behind him, Levi groaned and smacked himself in the forehead. “Ahh, shut up,” Mammon answered, rolling his neck as he met the gaze of his reflection. Just as he opened his mouth to admire his jewelry, his image began to ripple and fade, replaced by what looked to be a pawn shop.

The first person he noticed in the picture was MC, strolling lackadaisically through the aisles, poking at the items they found interesting. He squinted at the sight, focusing in on the details. They were dressed in athleisure, with a basic black top over grey joggers and sneakers. “C’mon, Mammon! I’m supposed to go to the gym with Beel today!” There was no ring on their finger, and they clearly had no problem talking back to him.

Then, he saw it. Himself. Dressed... like he was poor? Both hands of his alter were planted on the counter of the pawn shop as he grit his teeth. “Whaddya mean they’re not real! I sto-- I borrowed ‘em straight from the Demon Lord’s castle!” The pawn shop owner shrugged, pushing the trinkets back across the counter.

“Ugh!” He complained, snatching up the trinkets before looking around. MC was leaving. MC was leaving?! The artificial Mammon ran out the door, eyes panicked. “Hey! Hey wait for me! MC?!” The real demon’s nose wrinkled as he shook his head.

“No fuckin’ way,” he grumbled, looking away from the mirror. “Me? The Great Mammon? Chase some weak human?” He couldn’t believe it, spitting on the floor to get the bad taste out of his mouth as he moved aside.

LEVIATHAN:

Next up was Levi, who shoved his hands in the pockets of his oversized hoodie as he stepped up to replace Mammon at the front. “There’s a mirror just like this in Oh No, I Went Through A Portal And Now I’m The Ruler of A War-torn Universe Hellbent On Destroying Every Other Realm Because I Married The King’s Daughter And Then He Died In A Terrible Snowshoe Accident.”

“Can you shut the fuck up?” Belphie yawned from the back, his body twisting and curling in the back of the room.

Levi’s cheeks reddened in anger but he turned his attention to the mirror. Almost immediately it melted for him, the picture appearing clearly before his eyes. His bedroom, if it was for a child. His fish were tiny, with no visible teeth, just circling calmly in the tank. His Navy photos and weapons were gone, replaced by... dolls? What the fuck?

On the floor, his mirror image was sat on the floor with MC, both of them focused intently on a video game. As the weaker copy won the game, he threw his fist in the air in excitement. “YES!” He cheered, turning to MC with bright excitement in his eyes. They leaned in and kissed him hard on the lips, cooing their congratulations. The true demon watched with horror as his alter flushed bright pink, nervously jumping to his feet.

“I-I, uh, I’m... OMG,” he hid his face and ran from the room, leaving a confused MC alone. Who was this whiny child? Leviathan was the Admiral of Hell for fuck’s sake! He didn’t run from a small kiss. Confusion and unhappiness welled inside of him, as he realized that in some small way, he was envious of even his own copy.

The Avatar of Envy facepalmed, shaking his head as he hissed his disapproval before looking back up, only to find the image gone.

SATAN:

Satan’s tongue ran across his teeth as he side eyed his older brother, clearly unhappy with what he had seen. “What? The other Levi a better monster than you?” He watched as Envy burst into laughter, almost falling to the floor as he howled, and rolled his eyes, shoving him out of the way. “Finally,” he grumbled, “let’s get this over with.”

He met his own careful gaze in the mirror, and it began to ripple outwards,, revealing a face looking back at him. His own face, if he looked more pedestrian. Standing behind him in the bathroom was MC, looking anything but put together. A massively oversized traffic cone orange t-shirt with a hole in it on the bottom left. They yawned wide, stretching, before shuffling forwards to put their cheek on the alter’s shoulder blade, arms wrapping tight around him from behind.

“Mornin’,” they mumbled into worse-Satan’s button down bed shirt. The weak Sin laughed softly, warmly, turning to pull MC into their arms, pressing soft kisses over their forehead and cheeks.

“Good morning, Kitten,” he sighed. His eyes were full of love, a foreign concept to the real Satan, who felt the familiar burn of hatred in his chest. This other him, who did he think he was? He was okay with being nothing, and loving a human?

It didn’t make sense, and not understanding only fueled his rage. No version of himself, no matter the universe, was allowed to be so weak, and useless to the cause. His hand smacked the mirror, earning a hissed warning from Lucifer, but he did not go through as he had hoped, to strangle this version that threatened to water down his legacy.

Satan’s fingertips were blackened with his hatred when he retreated, disgust curling his lips.

ASMODEUS:

Lust adored a good mirror, and when he stepped up, he immediately leaned in to stare into his own eyes, falling in love with himself all over again, as was only proper for a demon as truly incredible as he was. He hissed in shock and unhappiness when his image became distorted and began to disappear. “How rude,” he complained, voice still a sultry low even as he complained. His attention was caught when he recognized himself at a club that looked as if it was meant to be The Fall, but it was so boring! There were no naked angels dancing for their lives, no one fucking on tables, and no blood anywhere, as far as he could see.

His mirror version was dressed, and not even immodestly, which was a tragedy in itself. More than that, he wasn’t dancing. He was sitting on the barstool, sipping a cocktail as he watched MC dance, with a dreamy look on his face. After a moment, they joined Asmo at the bar, grinning wildly as they ordered themselves a drink.

Asmo cut in before MC had a chance to speak, taking one of their hands in both of his, his eyes almost wet. “Maybe I’m just drunk,” he started, and on the other side of the mirror, Lust was already groaning audibly in complaint. “but I love you, MC. If I ever loved anyone as much as I love me, it’s you. It’s okay, if you don’t wanna sleep with me, you know? Because you like me for who I am, and no one has ever done that before. Thank you, okay?”

MC smiled warmly, and kissed the tip of his nose. “Of course I like you for who you are, Asmo. You’re so special to me. I love you too.”

The Sin gagged at the sight. There was no Avatar of Love for a fucking reason. Because it was disgusting. That was the reason. Why lay hands on someone to get absolutely nothing out of it. e wretched, and turned away from the mirror, sauntering to the other side of the room. “I’m much too pretty to be looking at such ugly things,” he huffed.

BEELZEBUB:

Beel’s hulking form would not fit in the mirror no matter how far back he stood, and he knew it, so he stood in the center of the room under the vaulted ceiling, and let his skin bubble and twist, melting in on itself as the excess sloughed off. Before long, he stood, almost human sized again. His fly wings still buzzed against his back, and his mouth watered as he fought the urge to feast on the flesh he had left behind.

Still, he had work to do, and work was the only thing to even semi-consistently top his starvation. He shook the viscera from himself as he looked into the mirror, stomach howling. The glass its solid form under his gaze, giving way to a view of a smaller version of himself, with no wings in sight, at a restaurant table. Hell’s Kitchen, the tasteful sign on the wall provided. Across the table was MC, gently holding his hand as they presumably waited on their meals to be provided.

The demon and human creature seemed to be chatting, laughing with each other, but Beelzebub was focused on how his mirror companion remained so calm, only mildly complaining about his rumbling stomach. It seemed this alternate version of himself was only hungry, not a glutton. Not really. What else did this man desire?

Apparently the answer was MC. When the food came and Beel dug in, he kept looking, making sure MC was fed as well. Unconsciously he leaned towards them, even going so far as to shift his chair so he was closer. When dinner was done, he sighed. “Do you want dessert, MC? We could share something. You deserve something sweet... Thanks for always being there for me.” The hungry small-thing smiled brightly, and the human laughed, leaning in to kiss him, hard.

Gluttony’s brow furrowed as he watched. This wasn’t a sin at all, this was two weaklings who loved each other and enjoyed dinner, nothing more. How DARE this mediocre copy use his name!

His anger, however, was short lived, as his stomach finally won out and he turned, dropping to his knees to bury himself in the remains he had left on the floor.

BELPHEGOR:

Finally, the seventh born. He blinked awake at the pungent smell of flesh, uncurled from the corner as he realized it was his turn to look into the mirror. His body coiled and twisted before settling in the shape of a man, his body more fluid and used to shifting than that of his twin. He stepped with solid foot to the ground, looking intently into the mirror, wiping his eyes as he yawned. The sooner this was over, the sooner he would be able to rest. A long moment passed, and then the glass began to dip into itself, shimmering into the last of the brother’s windows.

There, he saw. A tiny looking creature, although perhaps it was part cow, carrying a pillow under his arm as he entered the living room. MC was there, on the couch, reading a book, but that didn’t deter Sloth, who simply crawled until he was almost in their lap, before closing his eyes. MC didn’t seem the slightest bit phased, simply lifting the book up and over his body while he got comfortable, and then freeing a hand to stroke through the sleeping cow’s hair absentmindedly.

Under their breath, MC began to hum a lullaby, but the real Belphegor growled at the mirror. It was a low sound, one that filled his chest before spilling from between clenched teeth. It didn’t make sense. This tiny sloth was much too vulnerable to be resting that way, and in the arms of a human? What kind of trust would that require, to know beyond doubt that they would not attempt to injure him in his sleep? He did not fear death. Death was impossible, as the Sins would thrive as long as humans lived, but he could certainly still feel pain.

Was this love? If so, it was less appealing than he had ever dreamed. His dead heart did not bother to stir or beat in his chest, as if in agreeance. Belphie studied the image in the glass, committing it to memory. Such an egregious error could not soon be forgotten.

ENDING:

“Now that you’ve all had your share of the artifact, I’ll need a written report on your experiences. In the meantime, why don’t you give me a brief summary.

The room filled with discontented hisses and growls, along with the gnashing of teeth, as overlapping stories devolved from modern language, to ancient ramblings, and then into the deep chaotic rumbling of the Abyssal tongue.

Diavolo took it all in, relishing every word of what had happened. It was all so very interesting, especially the parts that horrified and angered them. The mutterings of “filth” and “fuckers” mixed with the howl of a language that had no words.

“How fascinating,” The Demon Prince beamed, gesturing to the door. “You may all go. I assure you in the name of my Father that such unsavory matters will be dealt with accordingly. Clearly, this weaker world cannot be allowed to survive. Thank you all for your participation. Meeting adjourned.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me dark au #house of lamentation #officials

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saints-and-sinners · 3 years ago

Text

Under 18 stay away..

Me x Andrew x JDM X Norman.

Basic overview :

You're part of the cast but also in a relationship with those 3 all consented, things get interesting when your parents find a way to disrupt your life.

I woke up from my bed in the resort, it was a wonderful morning, with the sun shining its golden rays at just the right brightness and a cool breeze in the air. I made my way to the shower. I decided to wear a long sleeve green and blue mini dress. Making my way down stairs i could hear my men talking over breakfast. Something smells good, its Jeffreys pancakes, and hes by the stove flipping them over. Andy and Norman are seated by the kitchen counter and Jeffrey greets me :Gmornin Sunshine.

Me : Gmornin Daddy

Andrew and Norman look at me, i give them a hug and tell my Master and Sir good morning before heading over to give Jeffrey a hug too.

Im served pancakes and syrup for breakfast with a delicious smoothie.

We take a few moments to eat up before packing, we have an afternoon scene and the set is a 30min drive from where we are. The conversation is easy, and smooth, i feel at home with these 3 and i know i give them much needed love and support.

Packing my Jeep, I notice a car drive upto us and out steps.. My parents?!?

They walk upto me, and i hold my hand up to stop Norman from approaching. Their conversation is simple. They didnt raise me to be an actress, they didn't raise me to spread my legs on a tv screen. I can do better in my life and they can help me.

I continue to pack my car whilst listening to them, knowing i will have to talk about it, to my daddies later.

I finish pack the car and im about to tell my parents that i am happy with my life when Jeffrey comes up and asks : Can i help you.

My parents ignore him and ask me :is this what you want?

I look at Jeffrey, Norman and Andy before answering.

Me : Yes and i am happy the way my life is. So please leave.

Parents : we've got a nice boy for you at home, meet him first then decide what your issue is.

At this point ive already pressed the panic button on my keyring and security is surrounding to take them away. My father jumps and shouts..

: you mustnt fucking come to my funeral, work all my life for you to fuck it up and be with white men huh??

Me :Yes, enjoy your evening.

As i hold Normans hand, jeffrey walks upto them and as theyre restrained by security guards jeffrey leans down and says : Your daughter calls me daddy too.

Jeffrey smirks and chuckles. :isnt that right sweetheart?

The conversation is intense but i know that the punishment is worse if i dont answer him correctly

Me : yes daddy.

Andrew tells them : back off, your daughter is happy and she doesnt want anything to do with you.

Norman is by my side as security take them away off the resort.

Andy walks upto me with his arms open and i give him a hug, he says :

Its okay, its okay, you can explain later. I give him a peck amd we get into our cars and travel to set.

Its an intense journey, thoughts are running through my mind on how to explain to the people i love, what just happened. I am unaffected by what just happened but i know i owe my men an apology, an explaination atleast. We arrive on set and were each taken to our own changerooms. On set its busy and distracting, i dont spare a second thought to what happened and by the end of the scene my mind is already on helping to pack up. Norman walks upto me and asks if im okay. I tell him i feel like kicking his ass, after which i realise exactly what he meant. I reply and say, yes im fine.

Its around 9pm and everyone has packed up Andy is pulling me by the arm away from everyone and into his truck. Me : oooo someones eager.

Andy : Were going to get some drinks and talk.

Me : am i in trouble officer??

Andrew : well, that depends if you co operate.

I feel a sense of nervousness as we pull into a bar, i dont know what to expect, will my men be upset about me??

I sit at the table and order cherry juice. Nervously waiting for one of my men to speak. Jeffrey is first :

Well sweetheart are you okay??

Me : yes, im okay. Ive cut cords with those people a long time ago, things dont affect me anymore. Im just really sorry..

Andrew:Now shes apologising, you naughty girl. What did we say about talking on behalf of other people???

Me :im sorry sir.

Norman :Again, our little minx needs to be punished.

Me : there we go again yall not listening to me.

Jeffrey : alright babygirl, behave now.

I look at them in disbelief, are they just using me for sex??

Andy : now listen, we understand, you dont need to explain yourself. We love you for who you are.

Before i open my mouth to protest realisation hits me. They understand me, and they just kinda confessed they love me.

Me:daddiees can i talk now?

Norman :yes go ahead.

Me:i love yall too.

Jeffrey:good girl.

------------------------------------------------------—---—

Later that night in the bedroom, i make sure i wear my favourite lingerie set, i know my men will love it.

#Walkingdead #Negan #Daryldixon #Twd

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css1992 · 5 years ago

Text

If you let me

Starker, 12k+ words

Warnings: explicit, nff, 18+, daddy kink, daddy issues, age gap (duh), brief mentions of non-con (not between main pairing), unhealthy coping mechanisms. No power AU.

The thing Peter liked about older men was that they were easy to figure out, no games necessary. They were usually after one of two things: a distraction from a midlife crisis or an affair. If it were a midlife crisis, they wanted adventure, but it had to be a dirty little secret – after all, they were raised in different times, their family and friends expected them to fit certain boxes. These men liked pretty, young things to make eyes at them, play coy, pretend to be naive and sweet and virginal. “I’m sorry, sir, I don’t usually do this, am I doing it right?” Peter figured it made them feel young, powerful, strong, so he played along.

The ones looking for an affair were pretty amusing, too, they usually had a good family, a beautiful wife, cute kids, but they wanted more. Something fun, and new, and crazy, without risking what they had. Usually, this happened to men who never got to experiment in their youth – again, different times. So they got married, had children, worked at boring jobs, barbecued on Sundays and fucked guys like Peter on Monday after work, or Tuesday before gym, or Wednesday after their son’s little league game.

It was cool with Peter either way, he didn’t want commitment, but he did want a few things. A warm, strong body to hold him for a couple of hours; a thick, hard cock to fill him up good, and that sense of protection and safeness that came from being with an older man. The endearments that inevitably fell from their lips, the praises, the gentleness of their touch, the way they grabbed him by the nape of his neck with a warm hand and called him boy. Good boy. Baby boy. With no strings attached, they had reputations to keep and families to get back to at the end of the night, which was perfect.

Peter had tried dating younger guys, but it just didn’t do it for him. They were often too eager, too fast, too rough. Just too young, in general. Not that older men couldn’t be too much, too, Peter learned it the hard way, not all of them knew how to take no for an answer; not all of them were willing to stop if he asked. It was okay, though, because even the ones who didn’t stop at his request were usually nice to him afterwards, so – no harm, no foul.

The man looking back at him from across the room seemed like a good one. He knew he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but he was gorgeous. Possibly the most handsome man Peter had ever seen in his short life. He must be well into his forties, if the wrinkles around his eyes and the graying hair at his temples were anything to go by, but his face was beautiful and yet so masculine. His eyes were kind-looking, bright and brown, with long eyelashes, framed by dark and thick eyebrows. His nose was thin and straight, almost aristocratic, but round at the tip, and he had a strong jawline and a well-groomed goatee, that framed the fullest, most kissable lips a man his age should be allowed to have.

He approached Peter with his drink, probably whiskey, judging by the color, and the younger man clutched his glass, smiling coyly when the gorgeous man finally stopped by his side, looking at him intently.

“What’s a sweet boy like you doing all alone in this terrible place?” He had a charming smile that lighted up his whole face, it was almost blinding. Peter refrained from telling him it wasn’t a terrible place, otherwise such a distinct man like himself wouldn’t be there. It was a fancy, five-star hotel bar, Peter obviously couldn’t afford anything there, not even a glass of water, but he didn’t need to, every time he was there someone bought him a drink.

“I’m not alone anymore,” he smiled charmingly, sucking the colorful straw of his sugary drink. He hated it, but he was never one to look a gift horse in the mouth, the drink had been sent to him by a shy gentleman sitting a few seats away from him. “And I’m not that sweet.”

“Is that so?” The older man seemed amused by Peter’s boldness, a playful smile tugging at his lips. He gave him a shameless once over, eyes traveling from head to toe, burning holes in the boy’s clothes, but he seemed more than happy with what he saw. “Could have fooled me.”

“I’m Peter.” He offered his hand and the older man took it carefully, like a gentleman, and kissed his knuckles softly. Peter shook his head with amusement, more than aware of all the tricks a guy would pull to take a boy like him to bed. Little did he know, he already had Peter in the bag, no games needed.

“It’s a pleasure, Peter. I’m Tony.” He held his hand for a little longer than necessary, then let it go, sipping his whiskey slowly, eyes fixed on Peter’s face. “You looked so lonely here, all by yourself, thought I’d keep you company.”

“My hero.” The younger man grinned, tucking a stray curl behind his ear, under Tony’s intense gaze. “Did you come by yourself as well?”

“I never come by myself, sweetie.” He wiggled his eyebrows and if it were anyone else, Peter would probably have rolled his eyebrows and walked away, but that man was so magnetic he actually giggled at the lame joke. “I’m staying here for a couple of days, came from California for a boring meeting with some boring people, and I was just heading back upstairs when I saw you needed rescuing. Can I buy you another drink?” He gestured to Peter’s nearly empty glass and the young man nodded with a smile.

“If you insist.” Tony gestured to the bartender and he came over so quickly Peter thought he might trip over his own feet, which was odd, because he was basically scowling at at pretty much everyone at the bar all night.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?” The name sounded familiar, Peter was sure he had heard it before somewhere, and not that long ago, but he couldn’t place it.

“Another one of whatever he’s having. Put it on my tab.” Peter wanted to tell him that he didn’t want that pink, frilly drink, he could really use a beer, but again – gift horse.

“What was your meeting about, Mr. Stark?” He asked, cocking his head to the side, once the bartender hurried away to make his drink, and the older man narrowed his eyes slightly.

“It’s Tony, sweetheart.” He winked, downing the rest of his whiskey. He waved his empty glass at the bartender and he quickly nodded in understanding. “And what is everything ever about? Money, of course.” He shrugged. “You see, I’m plotting world domination, you need cash for that.”

“So I’ve heard.” He smiled, amused. His eyes drifted to the man’s hands when he accepted a new tumbler filled with golden liquid from the bartender, and Peter noticed that there were no rings on his fingers. “What’s your big plan to take over the world, Tony?”

“Clean energy.” The older man had a smart glint in his eyes when he answered, like he was satisfied with himself.

“Nice. Tell me more.” Peter wouldn’t usually take this long to drag a man to bed, but Tony seemed interesting and he was nice to look at, so he indulged himself a little bit. Besides, the bartender had just placed a fresh drink in front of him, he couldn’t let that go to waste.

“Well, it’s a little complicated, sweetheart.” Peter rolled his eyes, disappointed, but not surprised. Men like Tony would usually take one look at him and assume he was just a dumb, horny bimbo who couldn’t keep up with their wit.

“Why don’t you give it a try, sweetheart.” He mocked, seeing an amused smile take over Tony’s face, then he nodded.

“Fair enough.” He took a deep breath, scrunching his face up in thought for a few seconds. “Let’s see, do you know what a fusion reactor is, in theory? What it does?” He asked, and Peter nodded easily, sipping his drink. Tony looked doubtful, but went on anyway. “Well, so I created an affordable, compact fusion reactor that’s able to power all of New York City for a month with just a small amount of fuel.”

“That’s very impressive, assuming this is true. I suppose you’re using deuterium and tritium as fuel? Or just deuterium? How do you even meet the Lawson criterion? You’d have to heat the fuel to tens of millions of degrees, how do you produce enough energy for it to be self-sustained?” As the words left his lips, Tony’s eyes grew comically wide and Peter couldn’t avoid a chuckle.

“Who are you? Do you work for Hammer or something?” He took a step back, eyeing Peter suspiciously, so the younger man quickly shook his head.

“I’m just a waiter, Tony.” The older man continued to stare at him as if waiting for the other shoe to drop, or maybe he was waiting for Peter to confess that he was a corporate spy. Well, he couldn’t care less about any of that, he just wanted to get laid, so. “You don’t have to tell me how you did it, I was just curious.”

“Okay...” He said, slowly, approaching Peter again, carefully. He searched his face for a few seconds, then shrugged. “I’ll bite.” An amused smile stretched over his face. “It’s not like it’s a secret anymore, I did publish a paper on this subject just last week. Anyway, I’m using hydrogen isotopes with palladium, which means –“

“Cold nuclear fusion.” Peter raised his eyebrows, a little shocked, and the man seemed just as shocked by the fact the Peter understood what he said. “Are you telling me you cracked cold nuclear fusion? Scratch that, are you telling me you cracked nuclear fusion as a viable energy source at all?” He asked, still a little incredulous, but the older man looked really proud of himself, so maybe he was telling the truth.

“If you give me your e-mail address, I can send you the paper I wrote on that.” He sipped his drink again, giving Peter another once over, more carefully this time around. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m impressed, kid. I came here fully expecting to talk to an airheaded, slightly tipsy twink. I was planning to charm you with a few smart words and talk about world domination.” Tony’s smile was genuine and it was beautiful. He seemed so relaxed when he smiled, and so much younger.

“Is that what you like?” Peter cocked his head with a raised brow and a teasing smile, and Tony shrugged, still grinning.

“Sometimes, yeah.” He got a little closer and Peter observed with interest as he dragged his eyes lazily all over his body, making his skin tingle with anticipation. “Not tonight, though.”

Peter lay on the bed feeling a little dizzy and short-breathed, already fully naked – when had that happened? - as he watched the older man unbuttoning his crisp white, expensive-looking shirt, revealing a broad chest spattered with soft hairs, muscular abs and strong biceps. Peter was still trying to figure out what hit him when he entered that hotel room, Tony was like a force of nature the way he attacked his lips, hands roaming freely all over his body, like he owned him, like Peter belonged to him. It was thrilling and intoxicating and the young man was still dizzy, trying to wrap his head around what was going on, because that man could not be real.

He sure felt real, though, when his goatee prickled his sensitive neck, as those sexy lips left a wet trail of kisses across his jawline, then down his throat. Peter moaned helplessly, carding his fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp with short nails, biting his lips and trying not to make a fool of himself by moaning like a bitch in heat, which was exactly how he felt right then and there.

His mouth traveled down to his collarbones, biting across them with great care and the right amount of pressure to leave bruises, but not too many, licking the sore skin right after as if to soothe it. The older man stuck a clothed leg between Peter’s and he humped against it unashamedly, eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling Tony’s lips stretch in a smile against his skin.

“So needy...” He whispered hoarsely, before attacking one of his nipples, sucking it into his mouth, torturing the little bud sweetly by holding it between his teeth as he licked it with the rough pad of his tongue. Peter threw his head back in ecstasy, hips bucking up to meet Tony’s leg. His nipples were so sensitive, it was the easiest way to get him off quickly, and it was like the older man knew that, like he knew everything about Peter’s body, he played him like a violin. “Such a pretty boy.” He dragged his lips to his other nipple, his goatee scratching the sensitive skin of his chest. He’d have beard burns all over his come morning, but he couldn’t care less. “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.”

“Fuck.” Peter loved it when they said it first. He always felt awkward bringing it up, always felt weird asking to call someone daddy, or even just saying it out of the blue. Not that he ever received a bad reaction, but he was just afraid one of these days someone might not like it so much. “Fuck, daddy, your mouth feels so good,” he cried, writhing on the bed and rutting against the older man’s leg. His cock was impossibly hard and leaking so much precum he was worried he’d ruin Tony’s very expensive-looking pants, but not worried enough to stop. He could feel the older man’s hard-on pressing against his thigh and his mouth filled with saliva just thinking about what it looked like, how good it would taste on his tongue – fuck.

Tony kept alternating between his nipples, sucking and biting them until they almost hurt from how sensitive they became – swollen and red from the abuse. Sensing it, the older man made his way down his abs, dragging his teeth and tongue all over his skin and quivering muscles, until Peter was no longer able to rub against his leg, but it didn’t stop him from trying. The older man stopped when he reached his cock and Peter blushed a little. He was always a little self-conscious about that part of him, he knew he was a little on the small side, but Tony didn’t seem to mind at all.

“You have such a pretty cock, baby, so hard already, you’re leaking all over, making such a mess.” His hot breath on Peter’s sensitive, flushed skin made him shiver, body trembling with anticipation, as he tried to breathe deeply to avoid a disaster. “Daddy’s gonna take care of it now, ok? You just sit back and relax.”

He swallowed Peter’s whole cock in one go and the younger man went to heaven and back in a matter of seconds, eyes rolling, back arched off the bed, hands grabbing the other man’s head desperately, toes curling in warning. He moaned loudly, beyond caring if Tony would find it weird, his fingers were shaking, skin shivering. The brunette didn’t seem to mind, though, as he pulled back slowly to suck the very tip of his cock, only to go all the way down again, until Peter could feel the back of his throat and the way it squeezed his cock when he swallowed.

He was good, fuck, he was so good, probably the best Peter ever had, some guys didn’t even care if he got off or not, some didn’t even mind much if he was hard. Not this guy – fuck – this guy didn’t even seem like he cared about getting himself off; from the moment their lips touched for the first time it was all about Peter.

His hands traveled up Peter’s legs from the back of his knees, touch so light he could barely feel it, but a jolt of electricity traveled all the way up to the back of his neck, his hole fluttered around nothing, he was so fucking empty all of a sudden. Tony’s hands reached his ass and he palmed his cheeks hungrily, his fingers were strong and rough as they lifted Peter’s lower half from the bed to meet his mouth halfway. It felt so good, being manhandled like that by such a powerful, gorgeous man, he was going insane seeing that mop of brown-gray hair bobbing up and down on his cock, he was –

“Fuck, daddy, stop, stop – I’m gonna –“

He stopped almost immediately, letting his cock go with a pop and a smirk. He reached for the night stand, where a bottle of lube and a packet of condom sat innocently. Ah, he had planned it. Of course he had, he went to that meeting knowing that he wouldn’t come up to his room alone. Peter was just glad he was the lucky one.

Tony threw the supplies on the bed, then ran his wide, open palms from Peter’s thighs to his ankles, before placing them on his shoulders. He kissed both of his knees sweetly and Peter didn’t really know why, but it made him shiver, his nipples perked up and he gasped, biting his lower lip. Tony leaned forward, folding him almost in half, and took his mouth possessively, capturing his lips like they belonged to him, like it was his right. His tongue fucked into his mouth like a promise and Peter felt helpless and hot all over, hole quivering desperately, begging for touch.

“You were lying earlier, baby boy, you’re just as sweet as I imagined,” he murmured against his lips, before dragging his mouth across his jawline, his goatee scratching his face in the most sweet torture he could imagine. When Tony bit his ear, he felt his wet, slick finger trying to breach him and he yelped in surprise. Again, when had that happened? The older man made him feel so out of it, he thought he was missing time. “You okay?” He asked, seriously, stopping at once.

“Yeah, I’m good, just kiss me,” Peter didn’t mean to sound so needy, and he usually didn’t, but fuck. That guy was messing with his head. Tony smirked and obeyed; his soft, wet lips could almost swallow Peter whole, it drove him mad with want. He barely felt as the finger tried to breach him again, successfully this time, then went deeper and deeper until it was fully sheathed inside him. He whined into Tony’s mouth as he rocked against it, craving that sweet friction, that slight burn on his rim.

Tony fucked his finger in and out of his hole slowly, carefully, it slid easily with the help of a lot of lube. It was such a sweet kind of torture, the promise of something so much better, bigger –

“Fuck,” He squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip until it hurt, as he tried to reign in the pleasure when Tony brushed against his prostate. “Right there, daddy, please...” He could barely form words when he felt the older man slide yet another finger inside him, as he kissed his neck soothingly. “Oh, fuck.”

“Doing okay, sweetie?” He asked quietly against his skin, fingers moving ever so gently until Peter nodded his head frantically and he chuckled, resuming his pace from earlier that night. He scissored his digits and curled them inside him, as Peter moved with him trying to get him to go deeper, faster, harder, he didn’t really know anymore, but he saw white when Tony found his sweet spot again.

“I-I’m not gonna last, daddy,” he warned, feeling another jolt of pleasure course through him when Tony pressured against his prostate yet again. “Pl-please!”

“You beg so nicely,” he whispered against his lips, drawing his fingers out of his hole. He sat up straight on his knees, letting Peter’s legs fall from his shoulders, as he started undoing his pants. “Are you gonna take it like a good boy, huh?” he asked, lowering his pants just enough to free his cock and Peter gasped, because it was fucking gorgeous – long, thick and veiny, and so fucking hard it was dripping, head flushed almost purple, it looked painful. “Do you wanna help daddy get it ready for your little hole?” He asked, stroking it slowly, and Peter up quickly, licking his lips. “Open your mouth, baby, there you go. Just the tip, ok? Don’t make daddy come too early.”

The younger man barely let him finish before he was licking and sucking the head of his cock into his mouth, groaning in satisfaction when the salty, bitter taste of his precum filled his mouth. He held the shaft with one hand, pumping it, and when he looked up he saw Tony with his eyes closed, mouth parted open and he almost came untouched right then and there. “Fuck,” he whispered, pushing Peter’s head away gently, and he whined unhappily.

Tony smirked as he got out of the bed to take his pants and underwear off, returning quickly to push Peter back onto the mattress. The younger man parted his legs, eager for what was to come, and Tony wasted no time, the blunt head of his cock started breaching him unrelentingly. Peter threw his head back, crying out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, he wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it was good, fucking perfect.

“Sh, shh, you can take it, I know you can, baby.” He placed sweet kisses on Peter’s neck as each inch of his cock was forced into him, and it felt endless, so big, it wasn’t gonna fit, it wasn’t –“There you go, baby, so good for me, such a good boy.” He whispered against his hair and Peter felt so full, his head was dizzy, he felt so out of it, light, floating, and so fucking good. “Doing okay there, sweetie?”

“Yes, daddy, feels so good,” He was able to answer, grabbing the older man’s face to drag him down for a filthy kiss. “You feel so fucking good, fuck me.”

“As you wish.” He grinned, pulling back slowly only to slam back into him hard, making him see stars. He set a hallucinating pace, hammering into Peter like a madman, hands clutching his ass, his thighs, his waist, leaving bruises everywhere. The younger man wrapped his legs around him for leverage as he rocked back against him just as hard, fingers leaving marks on strong shoulders. Peter saw white when his orgasm took him by surprise – he hadn’t even touched his cock – and when Tony saw it, he lost it. “Fuck, you’re so fucking hot.” He kissed him again, sloppy, dirty, wet, and Peter’s hole was sensitive, but it felt so fucking good, he thought would come again. Tony grunted against his lips when he came, hips bucking a few times, before his body fell limply on top Peter, the younger man’s legs falling apart to make room for him.

They lay there for what felt like hours, Tony’s body felt heavy, but good, it grounded him. He shut his eyes and let his fingers run across his broad back as they both tried to catch their breaths. After a while, Tony pulled off, placed a kiss on his abused, swollen lips, and got up from the bed. Peter hissed at the slight burn, but said nothing as the older man headed to the bathroom.

He heard the slick sound of the condom being taken off and thrown in the trash, then he head the tap running and, after a few seconds, Tony came back with a wet towel and gently cleaned his chest and stomach, and Peter smiled, eyes fluttering shut. He wouldn’t fall asleep, though, of course he wouldn’t. He had to go home, back to his own bed, back to real life.

The older man got back in bed and pulled Peter closer, let him rest his head on his chest, and they lay there silently for a while longer, but it didn’t feel weird or awkward, it was nice, Tony’s fingers scratched his scalp as Peter’s fingers drew figures on his skin. It was getting pretty late, though, and he still had to catch the train. He sat up lazily, stretched, then got up to find his clothes.

“Can I see you again?” He was surprised to hear the older man’s voice. He turned around, already buttoning up his shirt, and smirked, as he approached the bed. He covered the older man’s eyes with a hand, playfully.

“I don’t know, can you?” He grinned when Tony grabbed his wrist, an annoyed huff leaving his lips.

“Cheeky.” He kissed his knuckles like he had earlier that night, then looked up at him with a resigned expression. “Is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘give it a try’” Peter winked, smiling honestly. He wasn’t against seeing the older man again, as long as they kept it casual. He didn’t usually go for second “dates” - or fucks – be he could make a few rare exceptions here and there.

“Good.” He smiled that beautiful, genuine smile of his and got up from the bed in all his naked glory. “When you get downstairs, there will be a grumpy-looking man waiting out front. That’s my driver. I’ll text him to take you anywhere you need to go.”

“Oh, there’s no need, really –“

“Let’s skip this part, just accept it, sweetheart. It’s late, if you go out there by yourself and something happens, I feel like that’s on me, and I don’t need that on my conscience.” He took Peter by the chin and pulled him closer, giving him one last kiss. “I’ll see you soon.”

Peter figured he didn’t mean it, he didn’t even ask for his phone number, but that was okay.

~-*-~

“How are you doing, man? It feels like we haven’t talked in ages.” Ned was on speaker because Peter couldn’t seem to find his one good, clean shirt that was supposed to be on the top drawer of the dresser, but it wasn’t anywhere to be found.

“That’s because it’s been ages, dude. I miss you. Stop pulling that disappearing act, will you?” His voice sounded a little sad and Peter sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“I know, I’m sorry, life’s crazy when you don’t have a cool, tech job, you know? I’m killing myself here trying to make ends meet.” There was no bite to his tone and Ned knew he wasn’t being bitter, Peter was actually proud of him. When they graduated high school, his friend got accepted into Caltech and was hired by a big company right out of college. He had a nice life in Malibu, it seemed, but Peter never got to visit him.

“You could have one, you know that.” Again, Peter sighed, he hated hearing that familiar sound of disappointment in his voice.

“So, how’s work, anyway?” He changed the subject quickly, finally finding his shirt under the bed, for whatever reason. His phone announced a new message and a quick look revealed it was from Adrian Toomes, the guy he was supposed to meet in an hour and he was already running late. He seemed nice when they talked on Tinder, he had kind, blue eyes, but he was also a little older then Peter would usually go for, but he thought he’d give it a try.

“It’s ok, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but Stark Industries is about to launch a new power plant that’s supposed to generate renewable, clean energy, at really low prices.” Peter paused for a second when he heard the name, but then it all made sense, why it had sounded so familiar. Ned had been working for Stark Industries ever since he graduated last fall. “So it’s been a little crazy, but it’s good.”

“Oh, yeah, cool.” He sat on the bed to tie his shoelaces and couldn’t keep his mind from wandering. He remembered that glorious night with Tony and it sent shivers down his spine. He hadn’t thought of that in a while, it had been three weeks since then and, sure enough, no word from him.

“Dude, you know I’m worried about you, right?” Ned asked and Peter flopped on the bed, sighing.

“No need to, Ned, seriously, I’m fine, I’m more than fine, actually.” It felt like the hundredth time that he had to say that in the last half hour.

“Really? When was the last time you saw May?” Peter squeezed his eyes shut at that, refusing to feel the burn of tears that were sure to follow every time he thought of her. He missed her so much, but couldn’t bear the look on her face whenever they met and she realized he’d never amount to anything anymore.

“I don’t know, Christmas?” He shrugged, alone in his messy, tiny room in Brooklyn, and he missed his tiny, old room in Queens, which always smelled of May’s nasty cooking.

“Dude, fuck, that was eight months ago, what about your birthday?” He sounded alarmed for some reason, and Peter flinched, because, yeah – almost a year. Almost a whole goddamned year.

“We talked on the phone. I was busy.” He muttered, fumbling with the hem of his shirt, like a kid who knew he’d messed up.

“Doing what?” Came the outraged reply.

“Stuff.”

“Peter, c’mon!” Ned sighed, frustrated, and Peter pinched his nose, shutting his eyes.

“Ned, stop this, it’s –”

“I just… You’re killing yourself, man, you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve any of this. You deserve to go to a good college, get a good job, have a good relationship with your aunt, who’s your only fucking family, and –“

“Look, I gotta go, I’m late for work. Catch you later?” He asked in a haste, sitting up and taking the phone from the bed. There were three texts from Adrian asking if he was close, and he typed in a quick answer as he flew out the door.

“Sure, man. Talk later.” As always, Ned sounded tired and disappointed, and that was exactly why they never talked anymore.

~–*–~

“Hey, Parker, table three asked for you specifically.” Brad rolled his eyes impatiently as he handed Peter the menu. “You always get the best fucking tables,” he grumbled, walking away towards the kitchen.

Peter took a deep breath and braced himself for what was bound to be a night of unwanted flirting and maybe even some ass groping, which was what usually happened when someone asked for him specifically. That place was a dump, they couldn’t careless if the waiters were harassed by the clients, as long as they payed for their food. Well, he hoped some good tipping was involved, otherwise he would lose his shit, he really wasn’t having a good day.

When he headed towards the table, though, he quickly recognized those smart, brown eyes staring back at him, that cocky smirk framing perfect, straight, white teeth and the honey-like voice that greeted him.

“Missed me?” He asked coolly, but Peter knew better than that, a man like Tony Stark wouldn’t casually walk into a dumpster in Brooklyn to have dinner on a Thursday evening. He was there for a reason.

“How did you know where to find me?” Peter raised his eyebrows, clutching the menu, and the older man just looked amused.

“I have my ways,” he replied unhelpfully, with a smug, self-satisfied grin, and Peter couldn’t help but smile back, even though it was a little creepy.

“Should I be worried?” He asked, placing the menu in front of the older man and, sure enough, he didn’t even try to pretend to be interested in it.

“Probably.” He shrugged, eyes never leaving Peter’s body, like they were actually trying to burn holes in his clothes. “So, is the waiter on the menu?” He cocked his head to the side, trying to look at Peter’s ass, and the younger man chuckled, shaking his head at his antics.

“I’m afraid not, sir.” He looked around to check if anyone was listening in on them, and once he was satisfied, leaned down a little to whisper closer to the older man’s ear. “But he gets off at eleven if you wanna ask him again.” A wide grin spread across the man’s perfect face, accentuating the little crow feet around his eyes.

“My driver will meet you out front.”

“Sh, sh, shhh, nice and slow, sweetie, nice and slow… There you go. Good boy.” Peter felt like crying as he rode the older man’s cock painfully slowly, knuckles white from clutching the solid muscles on his shoulders like his life depended on it. With one hand, Tony held his right hip firmly, dictating the pace, and with the other he was stroking Peter’s cock, pumping it lazily, as he kissed his jaw and nipped his neck. “Such a sweet boy.”

“Daddy, please, I need to come so badly,” he begged, eyes squeezed shut, hips twitching, wanting to go faster. He felt so full, and stretched, and perfect, he just wanted to ride the hell out of that dick and find his release, but the mere sound of Tony’s voice telling him to go slow was enough to pin him to place. Fuck, the things he’d let that man do to him.

“Not now, honey, I’ll make it good for you, I promise,” he whispered against his lips, before taking them roughly. Peter cupped the older man’s face with both of his hands, kissing him back with just as much hunger and despair, trying with all his heart to keep the slow pace that Tony imposed.

“You’re killing me.” He bit Tony’s lip harder than necessary and the older man smirked, biting him back, as his right hand left his hip to tug his hair. Peter moaned as he sunk back down on his cock, trying to take it as deeply as it could possibly go and it drove him a little mad when it brushed against his prostate for the hundredth time that night. He moved upwards until the head of his cock almost slipped out of him, making them both hiss, Peter’s dick was leaking so much precum Tony’s stomach was soaking wet with it.

“You’re such an impatient brat,” he grumbled, tugging Peter’s hair hard enough to make him tilt his head back, exposing his throat, and Tony attacked it with soft bites and kisses. “It feels amazing inside of you, I’m just enjoying it for as long as I can, is it to much to ask?” His hand slid from the back of his head all the way down his back to his ass and Tony grabbed it roughly, squeezing his right cheek before slapping it loudly.

“You’re mean,” he whined softly, but he shivered all over at the words, the fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end as the cock inside him brushed his prostate yet again. “Daddy!”

“Take what you need, baby, c’mon.” Finally, sweet permission. Peter let himself go with abandon, holding on to Tony’s shoulders as he bounced on his cock for dear life, trying messily to thrust into the tight squeeze of his fist at the same time. “That’s it, baby, come for me, come on.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” He slipped over the edge, falling limp in Tony’s arms, and the older man flipped him easily, lying him on the couch, manhandling him like he was a rag doll, only to pound him into the cushions, taking his pleasure from him like it was his god-given right. Fuck, he was so hot with his face all scrunched up in pleasure, in ecstasy, as he came inside Peter. He wished he could feel his seed sliding out of him, he really did.

They lay there for a while, breathing heavily, and again Peter felt like Tony’s weight on top of him was grounding and soothing. It didn’t last long, though, as the older man rolled off of him and headed for the bathroom, coming out a few minutes later with a wet towel to clean him up.

“How do you feel about room service?” He asked, once he was done, as he sat back on the couch with Peter’s legs on his lap. “I’m starving, that ting you called a steak hardly counts as dinner.”

“Ah, which reminds me,” Peter reached for his jeans on the floor, struggling a little. He pulled out the five hundred dollars Tony had left on the table from his left pocket and offered it to the older man, who raised a brow. “I’m a little slutty, but you do know I’m not actually a hooker, right?”

“What? I just really enjoyed the service back in the restaurant.” He feigned innocence but accepted the money back, throwing it on the couch. “I was just trying to show my appreciation.”

“I can think of a few other ways you can show your appreciation,” Peter smirked, parting his legs, making Tony laugh loudly.

“Starting with some food, how about that? You must be hungry, too.” He squeezed Peter’s calves, and the younger man bit his lip. He should really leave, he really wasn’t the type to stay around after fucking. It just felt weird and overly intimate to be with a person after you’re both sated, it seemed besides the point. Still--

“Sounds good.”

The older man grinned and quickly grabbed the phone to place an order, Peter couldn’t understand half the words he said, really, but he’d eat pretty much anything. Feeling a little self-conscious to be naked now that they were done, he crossed his arms over his chest, not sure if he should get dressed, or if it was rude or whatever, he really wasn’t familiar with that part.

“Are you cold?” Tony probably noticed him rubbing his arms.

“Yeah, a little,” he answered sheepishly, and the older man got up from the couch, heading for the bathroom again, coming back with two robes.

“Here. It is a bit chilly.” Peter accepted it with a sigh of relief and quickly covered himself with the soft, fluffy robe. Tony grinned when Peter snuggled on the couch like a satisfied cat, then walked to the mini bar in his own robe, which somehow made him look expensive and refined, not like he had just stepped out of a bath. “So, how long have you worked at that restaurant?”

“I don’t know, too long, for sure.” Peter smiled, watching as the older man filled two glasses with scotch from tiny bottles. “Why, do you wanna hire me? Not as an escort, I hope.”

“That wouldn’t be such a terrible idea. I could keep you on my arm like a pretty accessory, people would assume you were just a dumb gold-digger. Then you’d open your mouth and knock them dead with that brilliant brain of yours. I’d pay good money to see that.” Tony came back with the glasses then offered one to Peter, as he sat on the couch by his side. “But seriously, kid, you’re so smart. Thought you’d be doing something else. I actually looked you up to make sure you weren’t a corporate spy working for Oscorps or something, that’s how I knew where to find you.”

“Told you, just a waiter.” He shrugged, growing uncomfortable with the subject, and the older man must have picked up on that, because he dropped it immediately.

“Did you get a chance to read my paper?” He asked with a curious glint in his eyes and Peter nodded excitedly.

“Yes, I looked it up, it’s genius! Where the fuck did that idea come from?”

Everything became easier after that, they spent hours talking about the arc reactor, how it worked, and how Tony got the idea for it. When the food arrived, they sat at the small table in the room and somehow ended up talking about Tony’s time at MIT – Peter’s dream college –, about Stark industries, what life was like in Malibu. Peter had no idea what he was eating, but it was delicious, and so was the wine. It was nearing 2AM when they finished and Peter started getting dressed.

“You can stay over, you know, plenty of room in the bed.” Tony announced from his spot on the couch, nursing yet another glass of scotch.

“Oh, I noticed.” Peter smirked, but didn’t reply to what the older man said, as he continued to get dressed. Tony didn’t say anything for a few minutes, just kept watching Peter like some sort of predator.

“What a man’s got to do to get your phone number, huh?” The older man’s voice startled him when he was fully dressed and he turned around, raising an eyebrow.

“You could try asking for it.” He smirked, seeing a similar expression take over Tony’s face.

“Can I have you number, kid?” He asked, amused, and Peter pretended to think, tapping his chin.

“I don’t know, I kinda like my privacy.” He sighed, and the older man threw a cushion at him, making him giggle. He told him the number, though, and Tony typed it into his phone.

“Is that your real number? Will you actually answer if I call?” He narrowed his eyes and Peter shrugged.

“You’ll have to figure that out yourself.” He crossed his arms over his chest when Tony got up from the couch, approaching him slowly.

“Why do you have to be such a tease about everything, you little minx?” His robe was tied very loosely around his waist, his chest was almost completely exposed, Peter’s fingers twitched, wanting to touch it.

“I’m a man of mystery” He answered gravely, feeling the older man’s strong arms wrapping around his waist.

“You’re an asshole,” Tony muttered against his neck as he bit it, and Peter giggled, trying to get away.

“You like my asshole.” They burst out laughing and Tony pulled him into one last kiss.

~-*-~

Walking inside that apartment felt like time-traveling. Everything was exactly how he left it years ago, May didn’t move a single vase out of place. He suspected that his room would still be the same, too, but didn’t dare to check. He sat on the couch and observed May’s features, she looked older. Still incredibly gorgeous, yes, but older. The only thing in the apartment that gave away that time had moved on.

“Mr. Delmar asked about you the other day.” She smiled, sipping her coffee.

“It’s been a while.” He admitted, watching her face become more serious as she nodded slowly.

Fuck, this was such a bad idea, he shouldn’t have come. Ever since his talk with Ned, he was feeling guilty about not visiting May, but sitting there, in his childhood home, with the woman who raised him like a mother, felt – wrong. He didn’t deserve to be there. He should never be there. He ruined her.

“It wasn’t your fault, Pete,” she could always tell what he was thinking – another good reason not to visit. “There was nothing you could have done to –“

“I was right there, May,” he cut her off, quietly, rubbing his hands at his face. They’d had that conversation at least a million times over the years and it still felt draining. “He pointed the gun at me first, you know. Ben protected me. I stood there, frozen, like a scared little boy. I didn’t –“

“What were you supposed to do? Jump in front of the bullet? Die in his place? Peter, he would never want you to do that, I would never want you to do that! You were like a son to him, to us, it was our duty to protect you, not the other way around!” She pleaded, desperate, and he looked away from her. No matter what she said, he looked at her, at how – broken she was, and he knew it was because of him. Because he couldn’t help Ben. Because her husband gave his life to save his, and Ben was a hardworking, kind, loving man, who had May and tons of friends, and Peter was just – worthless. He knew, deep down, May could see that too.

“Nevermind, I’m just gonna –“

“It was hard for me, too, Pete.” She said, suddenly. “I know you were a kid and you loved him like a father, but he was my husband. My life partner. It was hard for me, too.” Her eyes were shining when she looked at him briefly and his heart broke to pieces to see how devastated she was, but she looked away quickly.

“I never said it wasn’t, May –“

“But it wasn’t your fault. Never, in a million years, could anyone ever blame you. I just… I don’t know why you keep pushing me away. I know I’m not your blood like Ben was, but you’re still my nephew, no matter what. I raised you like a son.” She was crying openly now and Peter couldn’t even reach out to comfort her.

“I’m so sorry, May.” He covered his face with his hands, unwilling to look at her, unwilling to let her see the tears forming in his own eyes at her admission. “It’s not you, okay? It’s just – I need – I-I miss you, too.”

After Ben’s death, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bear to look at May. He couldn’t bear to be in the apartment. He figured they reminded him of Ben, of his parents, of better days, but it wasn’t just that. He was 16 when Ben died and it broke him, it took him back to that dark place he’d been in at 10, after his parents’ death. He couldn’t eat. Couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t leave the house. He failed so many classes, by the time they were supposed to apply for colleges, he didn’t have many options and, weirdly enough, he didn’t really care. May was devastated, she cried for months. It was hard, looking at her.

But she didn’t deserve what he was doing to her, so he sucked it up and smiled.

“I promise I’m gonna visit more often, ok? Are you free on Sunday?”

~– * –~

It was Saturday night and Peter was just lounging on his bed, after a long shift at the restaurant, when his phone ringed. He didn’t recognize the number, but he figured it could be one of the guys he hooked up with in the past, and he was really bored, so.

“Hello?”

“Ah, so this really is your number.” Peter was a little surprised to hear that voice. After he left the hotel, a couple of weeks prior, Tony never called or texted, so he thought that was the end of their little adventure. He smiled to himself.

“Took you long enough to figure that out.”

“Yeah, sorry about that, kid, I meant to call earlier, but that whole world domination plan is still a thing, so I’m a little short on time. But I’ll be in New York next Thursday, any chance you could make some time for me then? Say, around nine?”

Peter bit his lower lip, considering. He enjoyed Tony’s company, he really did, the man was smart and funny, and he made Peter feel so fucking good when they fucked. He was also a great kisser, a very attentive lover and just generally a nice guy. The thing was, Peter couldn’t even remember the last time he had a third date with someone and, to be completely honest, he usually tried to avoid those, he didn’t want to send the wrong message. But Tony lived in California, anyway, and he only called when he was in town, looking for sex, so what was the harm in going?

“Sure, yeah. I can make that work.” He shrugged at the empty room.

“Sweet. Dress nice, I’m taking you somewhere fancy.”

“Oh, God, no, there’s no --” Peter rubbed at his face, already feeling anxious just to think about the sort of restaurants Tony usually went to.

“Hey, don’t even try, I’m gonna feed you before I fuck you, it’s common courtesy and I’m a gentleman. You just didn’t give me a chance before, you jumped me before I could even offer you a drink.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you complaining, what with your tongue so far down my throat.” Peter grinned and heard the other man chuckle.

“Happy will pick you up at nine, brat. Text me the address sometime this week.”

Peter was still a little tipsy from the fancy wine they had at dinner and the scotch they had later. Tony wasn’t kidding when he said it was a fancy restaurant, he felt weird and out of place at first, but the older man made everything seem so normal and natural, he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his brain seemed to stop functioning properly around him.

They ended up back in his hotel room, where they had the sloppiest, messiest, drunkest sex anyone had ever had and Peter was lying on his stomach with his eyes closed, slowly sobering up as the minutes ticked by. Tony was sitting with his back against the headboard, running his fingertips lightly across Peter’s shoulders, talking about his PA, Pepper Potts, and how he couldn’t run the company without her, because he was such a slacker. He was still drinking scotch and Peter honestly had no idea how he wasn’t completely trashed, even though he was clearly not sober either.

“You were really young when you took over the company, right?” Peter slurred, sleepily, as Tony’s fingers slid up the back of his neck and into his hair, massaging his scalp. The younger man closed his eyes, purring.

“Yeah, I was around twenty or something.” For the first time since they met, Tony’s voice was quiet, not booming with confidence or mirth, just quiet and soft.

“Because your parents died?” Peter whispered, eyes still closed, but Tony’s hand in his hair didn’t even falter, so he figured it wasn’t a touchy subject.

“Yeah.”

“How did you cope so well?” He opened his eyes and the older man was resting his head against the headboard, eyes closed, face relaxed and open, fingers still scratching his scalp. It took Peter by surprise how at ease he seemed to be around him, it made him blush and feel – what was he feeling?

“I didn’t, kid, I was all over the place. I got drunk every night, got high everyday. I fucked so many people it’s miracle I didn’t get some fucked up STD. My twenties are a fucking blur.” He turned to look at the younger man and he felt so small under his gaze.

“But you’re better now.” He whispered, trying hard not to break eye contact. The older man smiled.

“Yeah, this might come as a surprise to you, but it’s been a while since I was twenty.” Tony grinned and Peter raised his upper body, supporting his weight on his elbows. Tony slid his knuckles across his cheeks, and Peter’s eyes fluttered shut. “Did you lose your parents, too?” He asked, softly, and Peter thought about avoiding the question, but he was too drunk and too tired to be mysterious.

“Yeah, when I was ten. I-I was all over the place, too, and just when I thought I was getting better, I lost my uncle – and I. I couldn’t help him. He was like a father to me. I think it fucked me up for good, you know?” He winced while trying to smile, and the older man tried to smooth down the lines on his forehead with his fingers.

“Nah, it gets better. I promise.”

“That’s nice to hear.” He smiled, even though he didn’t believe him, and Tony could probably tell. “How come you never married?” Tony raised and eyebrow, amused, and Peter shrugged. “You’re hot, smart, rich. Like, people must throw themselves at you all the time. Are you a confirmed bachelor or something?”

“It just never happened. I guess when you have so many – attractive features, it’s difficult to tell who’s there for the right reasons.” He pinched Peter’s nose and the younger man scrunched up his face, making Tony laugh. “Why? Are you gonna propose? Got a ring hidden up this cute little butt? Let me check.” He playfully patted and squeezed Peter’s ass cheeks and he squealed, laughing hard.

“You wish!” He giggled when Tony started tickling his ribs, batting his hands away and turning over on the bed. “Stop!” The older man crawled on top of him, caging his head between him arms as Peter panted, trying to catch his breath. He didn’t have a chance to do so, because Tony started kissing him gently and deeply, slowly, and Peter melted into the bed. The man was such a good kisser, he could swear he must have taken a course somewhere or something like that. When he pulled away, Peter took a deep breath. “I have to go now.”

“You want to go now.” Tony corrected, but he was smiling. He rolled off of his body, not before leaving a peck on his lips. “Happy will be waiting for you out front. Drink lots of water, you don’t wanna have a hang over tomorrow.”

“You do realize you’re not really my dad, right?” Peter narrowed his eyes at the older man and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“Oh, no, trust me, if I were, you wouldn’t be this bratty.”

–*--

Bored out of my mind

Tony’s text lighted up Peter’s phone screen and he smiled, shaking his head as he pocketed it to serve his tables. That was a thing, now, apparently. He and Tony texting. They had been doing it for a few weeks, ever since the older man left the last time. He was fine with that. They were friends, Tony made him laugh, and there was the added benefit of sex whenever he was in town, there was really no harm.

His phone vibrated in his pocket a few other times as he worked, he figure they were more texts from Tony, or maybe even from May or Ned. He had been trying to talk to them more often and, slowly, it stopped feeling weird and forced. Slowly, it started feeling good again.

Once his shift was over and he walked home, he took a quick shower and opened his texts. There two from Tony, one with a picture of his bored face and another one saying “entertain me”. There was a text from Ned letting him know that he planned to come home for Christmas and a missed call from May that he’d return later.

More importantly, there was a notification from Tinder. When he opened it, he saw that he was matched with a guy named Quentin Beck. He was 38, so not a lot older, but still. He looked gorgeous, with pale blue eyes and a lumberjack beard. It had been a while since he had gone out with anyone besides Tony – actually, when he thought about it, he hadn’t really talked to anyone new in a very long time.

So when the guy asked him if he wanted to meet that night, he went. He didn’t really want to go, even though the guy was gorgeous and apparently very nice, but he went anyway. They made small talk in the guy’s living room, but they soon moved to his bedroom. He was okay, not amazing, Peter had to get himself off or he wouldn’t come. It was whatever, he felt a little used, a little weird, but didn’t think much about it.

When he got home, he texted Tony a picture of himself making a silly face, along with a text: “I hope this is entertaining enough.” Not even two minutes later, he got a text with a picture of the older man with a hand over his heart, making a dramatic face. “I’m not entertained, I’m in love, but thanks for trying.”

Peter laughed alone in his room at Tony’s joke, shaking his head, and for some reason, his night got a little better.

–*--

“I missed you so much, baby boy.” Tony whispered in his ear from behind and he shivered all over, clutching the wooden headboard as the older man slammed against him, chest touching his back, arms firmly wrapped around his waist. Fuck, he missed Tony, too, so much, even though they’d been talking every day for months, they hadn’t met in a long time, Peter was climbing the walls by the time the older man announced he’d be in town for the weekend. “Come for me, baby, come on.” He wrapped a hand around Peter’s cock and it took only two pumps to push him over the edge, as he moaned loudly, hole clenching around Tony’s dick as the older man came, too, grunting against his neck.

After a few seconds catching his breath, Tony pulled away, still holding Peter from behind, kissing his neck, his ears, and tickling his ribs. Peter giggled, trying to get away, but the older man wouldn’t let him.

“Tony, cut it out!” He squealed, and finally the older man let him go. Breathing hard and still giggling a bit, he stepped out of the bed and hurried to the bathroom to clean himself up. “I really have to go, I’m so, so late!” Peter couldn’t afford to give up his shift at the restaurant, money was really tight that month, so he and Tony managed to squeeze an hour between the end of the man’s meetings and the beginning of Peter’s shift, but he was already running late.

He went around the room putting on his clothes, and when he was finally ready, Tony got up from the bed to meet him at the door.

“You need a new jacket” He muttered against his lips as they shared a final kiss. They both looked down at Peter’s pitiful jacket, there were at least two visible holes on it, and Peter knew there was another one under his left arm that Tony couldn’t see.

“Tell that to my bank account.” He joked, watching a dissatisfied look take over Tony’s face.

“Let me buy you one.” He asked seriously, wrapping his arms around his waist, and Peter rolled his eyes.

“Tony –“

“Please. We’ve been seeing each other for what, five months now? I’ve never got you a gift, do you know how hard this is for me? I’m a billionaire, I like spending money on people, you’re killing me with this ‘no gifts policy’, kid.”

“You’re impossible.” He shook his head, smiling, and the older man looked hopeful, arms tightening around his waist.

“So, what do you say? I have the afternoon off tomorrow, I could take you shopping.” He wiggled his eyebrows and Peter raised one finger in front of his face.

“Not shopping. One jacket. One single jacket. I mean it.” He said gravely, only to see a grin spread across Tony’s face.

“Gorgeous. Exquisite.” He adjusted the lapels of Peter’s new jacket, then his new scarf, which matched his new gloves perfectly. They had just stepped out of the store and Peter was still a little freaked out that there were no price tags on the clothes and Tony didn’t let him check the receipt. “And cute as a button.” He pecked his lips.

“You’re impossible!” He said as Tony clasped a hand on the back of his neck and guided him down the street, walking straight by Happy and his car. Peter frowned. “Aren’t we going back to the hotel?” They had met at the store after Tony’s meetings were over, so they hadn’t got a chance to be alone yet.

“How about some hot chocolate first?” He offered, walking them towards a coffee shop just down the street, and Peter shrugged, agreeing. Tony slid his arm across Peter’s shoulders and pulled him closer, and the younger man tucked himself under his arm contently, sighing at the warmth.

When they got to the coffee shop, Tony told him to take a seat while he ordered. He stared out the window as he waited, thinking that Christmas was just around the corner and how fast that year had gone by and how much had changed, specially over the last few months. He smiled to himself, feeling silly and happy, for the first time in a very long time.

“What is it, did someone fall on their butt?” Tony asked when he arrived with their drinks, looking out the window curiously. Peter chuckled, shaking his head, but didn’t offer anymore information. He eyed the mugs of hot chocolate filled to the brim with whipped-cream and his mouth watered.

Tony sat by his side on the booth and Peter took the beverage with both hands, trying to steal some of its warmth, and when he took the first sip, some of the whipped-cream smeared his nose and upper lip. He went cross-eyed trying to lick it clean, and heard Tony laughing out loud beside him.

“Oh, no, wait, wait!” He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and directed the camera at Peter. The young man made a bored face as Tony took the picture. “And that is my new wallpaper, thanks,” he beamed, turning to look at Peter again. “C’mere,” before the young man could react, Tony licked the tip of his nose clean.

“Tony!” There were tears in his eyes from how much he was laughing, even though he was punching the older man’s arm in protest.

~-*-~

“I don’t want you to make a big deal out of this, ok?” Peter warned seriously and heard Ned agree eagerly. They had been talking more often over the last few months, just like he was trying to visit May at least once a weak. “I’m gonna start attending community college next year.” He bit his lower lip nervously, a little afraid of what Ned would think. May had cried tears of joy for hours when he told her, but he and Ned had once made plans to be roommates at MIT and he had graduated from CalTech last fall, so--

“Peter, holy fuck! Dude, I can’t – I’m so fucking happy for you! That’s what I’m talking about, you’re awesome, you’re gonna do great, and then –“

“Okay, calm down, like I said, let’s not make a big deal out of this, ok? It’s just something that I’m gonna try and it might not work, so chill.” He smiled to himself, a little relieved that Ned was happy for him, but what did he expect? He was the best friend Peter could hope for.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, no, sure. Of course. Super chill.” He was silent for just a few seconds, before he spoke excitedly again. “But I’m so happy, Pete. You’re – I’m glad to see you’re doing okay.”

“Speaking of seeing, are you coming home for Christmas? I miss you, dude, haven’t seen you in what, two years?”

“Yeah, I’ll come, and I have good news of my own! Are you sitting down?” Peter confirmed, amused. “Ok, remember I told you about Stark Industries new power plant and stuff?”

“Yes?” Peter blushed at the mention of the name Stark. Ned had no idea that he’d been banging his boss, so it was always weird when he talked about his job.

“It’s gonna operate in New York, they were putting together a team to transfer there, and guess who’s going?”

“Shut up!”

“Yeah! I’m going home, dude, for good! And best part is, I’m gonna work closely with Mr. Stark, I’m talking about same floor kinda deal, dude.” Peter froze.

“Wait, what? But I thought T – Mr. Stark lived in Malibu?” Surely Ned must be mistaken, Tony loved Malibu, he would never leave it for New York, that was stupid. He wasn’t coming.

“Yeah, dude, but he’s moving to New York next year, after they launch the power plant. He’s moving the headquarters of S.I. to New York.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Peter tried to take a deep breath, he just needed to rationalize this. They just couldn’t be together once he moved, that would be – they weren’t dating or anything, because Tony lived thousands of miles away, so if he came, it would be different, because they would be living in the same city, and just – really, they weren’t dating, Peter didn’t date, so they weren’t dating, so it was fine, he’d just call Tony and let him know that their arrangement was over, which was fine, he didn’t –

“Oh. Cool.” He remembered that Ned was still on the line.

“Yeah, tell me about it. I’m psyched!”

–

“Hey, Pete. Are you ok?” Tony answered on the second ring, sounding surprised and on alert. “You never call.”

“Sorry, did I disturb you? Can you talk?” He asked, nervously. There was a reason he never called Tony, he was a busy, important man, he had meetings to go and things to create and money to make, he couldn’t possibly have time for Peter.

“Yeah, sure, what’s up? Is something the matter? Are you in trouble? You sound nervous.” He could hear the concern in his voice and he bit his lips, feeling guilty. There was nothing Tony had to worry about, after all, it was silly, Peter was making a big deal out of nothing. It wasn’t like they were breaking up or anything, they weren’t even together to begin with, so. It was just a “no more sex” kind of talk. Nothing to be nervous about.

“I’m fine, I’m okay, it’s – Are- are you moving to New York?”

“What? How do you know that?” He was surprised by the question, but didn’t seem mad, which was good, he didn’t want to get Ned in trouble over this.

“Just answer, please?” He pleaded quietly.

“Yes, I am. It was supposed to be a surprise, though, I was gonna tell you in person, after Christmas. What’s the matter?” Again, he sounded worried, and Peter bit his lips until he drew blood.

“It’s just… I… We – I don’t know, Tony, I’m. What is this to you – us? What are we…?” He didn’t know why the fuck he was going in that direction, he was just supposed to say they couldn’t fuck anymore.

“Uh, I don’t know? Does it matter? Do you wanna put a name on it? We can be boyfriends or whatever, but I think I’m a little old for that title, so maybe you could be my boyfriend and I can be your… manfriend? Significant other? We can figu–”

“Tony, stop joking around!” He gasped, shocked at the word boyfriend, what was Tony even talking about, Jesus, they weren’t – they never –

“I’m not joking around. I mean, I was joking about the manfriend thing, but otherwise I’m dead serious.” Fuck, no, this couldn’t be right, this couldn’t be true. Surely Tony wasn’t being serious, of course it was all a big joke, they weren’t dating, for fuck’s sake, they were fucking, that was it, nothing more, why was he talking about boyfriends, relationships – “Peter, you’re freaking out.”

“Of course I’m freaking out!” He squealed, taking himself by surprise by how high his own voice sounded.

“I knew this was gonna happen, that’s why I wanted to talk to you in person. Look, it’s no big deal.” Why the fuck was he so calm and collected?

“Tony, this is not – we’re not – this is casual! It’s – It’s just sex!” He reasoned, hearing a sigh coming from the other side.

“Honey, c’mon, you know that’s not true. I care about you, and I know you –“

“I’ve slept with other men while you were away.” He blurted out, because that was very important information, that was proof that they weren’t serious. He slept with Toomes and with Beck and if they were boyfriends he wouldn’t have done that, so, clearly, they weren’t boyfriends, what kind of boyfriend would do that? No kind. No kind of boyfriend would do that.

“O-kay.” He said slowly, clearly surprised by the confession. “Okay, that’s fine, we haven’t talked about exclusivity yet, so you did nothing wrong, there’s nothing to –“

“Tony! I’m – I’m worthless! I’m a slut, I’m poor, I’m – I’m just a waiter, I have no future, you can’t be with me!” He was really freaking out there, he could barely breath, he was sweating like a pig, pacing his room, and Tony couldn’t seem to understand what he was saying, why couldn’t he understand what he was saying? Wasn’t the man supposed to be a genius?

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, kid! First of all, take a deep breath, will you? Second of all, I’m a big boy, I can very well choose who I want to be with or not. And third of all, are you insane? You’re the smartest person I’ve talked to in years, you’re gorgeous, funny, kind and sweet, and of course I wanna be with you!”

“Well, I-I don’t wanna be with you,” He answered, voice wavering, but he was sure of it, of course he was sure.

“Peter, come on, you’re not thinking this through –“

“I can’t do this, Tony, I can’t. I’m not – I’m not boyfriend material, I’m – You’re – This isn’t gonna work.” He ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down, he was doing the right thing, it was for the best.

“It’s been working for almost six months in case you haven’t noticed, Pete, what --”

“No, no! We’re not – Look, I’ve gotta go, just – Just leave it alone, ok?” He didn’t wait for an answer, he just hung up the phone and threw out of reach. There, done. Easy as pie.

–*--

Christmas had come and gone and it was really nice. He and May had take out Thai food after they ruined their attempts of cooking Christmas dinner. It was kind of a tradition for them. They would try to cook, fuck up royally, then they’d order the least Christmassy thing they could think of. Ned visited for a couple of days, they hung out in his room building Legos and drinking beer, then he had to go back to Malibu, but he was supposed to move back in February, which was nice.

Everything was nice and okay, life hadn’t been this easy in a long time, so he had no idea why there was a Tony-shaped void in his heart, when he was so used to that place to being completely and shapelessly empty.

It was the first week of January when his bell rang, he thought it was the Chinese he ordered, but when he opened the door, soft brown eyes stared back at him.

“Tony, wh – what are you doing here?” He stuttered, clutching the door, and the older man looked so elegant and composed and calm, what was he even doing in such a terrible neighborhood, he didn’t belong there.

“May I come in?” He asked calmly, and Peter wanted to say no, because he couldn’t look at him, he didn’t want to look at him. But he couldn’t say no, so he stepped aside and let the man in. He stood there, in the middle of his ridiculously tiny and messy living room, and Peter closed the door, leaning against it, as if he needed a quick escape route in case of emergencies. He turned to look at Peter. “Not very nice of you to break up over the phone, hang up on me and then block my number, kid.”

“I-I, I didn’t, I –“ Before he could think of an answer, the older man raised a hand, stopping him.

“It’s okay, I forgive you, I’m here now, sorry I couldn’t come earlier.” He stepped closer to Peter, who in turn tried to become one with the door the way he pressed his back against it.

“I-I didn’t ask you to come. In fact, you should leave,” He muttered, looking down at the floor, until he saw Tony’s expensive shoes stepping into his line of view, so close to his sock-clad feet, and he blushed when he noticed that his socks didn’t even match.

“Here’s what I think, correct me if I get anything wrong. I think you’re lonely – and I think you like feeling lonely, because it’s safer. I think you’ve isolated yourself from the people you love, afraid you’d lose them one way or another, afraid that you’d have to go through that pain again, and you’ve been avoiding getting close to other people for way too long. And then I came in.” Tony placed a finger on his chin, lifting his head gently, and Peter hadn’t even noticed that his face was wet and he was sobbing quietly. He closed his eyes, he couldn’t bear to look at Tony’s face, afraid of what he might see there. “I know you, kid. I’ve been you.” Tony’s lips on his took him by surprise, but he didn’t flinch, he didn’t move away, he craved that touch, he wanted Tony to come closer, to hold him, to stay with him, just – “I love you. And I’m not going anywhere, you can’t push me away.”

“Tony.” He wrapped his arms around his neck, crying silently against his shoulder. There were so many words trapped in his mouth, but he couldn’t say them, he couldn’t.

“It’s okay, I’m here. I’m not leaving,” He whispered against his curls, holding him so tight, so close, that Peter believed him.

If you let me

Here’s what I’ll do

I’ll take care of you.

#starker #peter parker x tony stark #ironspider

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