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#I really hope they are there cause the withered designs are so good
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Do you think the Withereds will be in the FNAF 2 movie?
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b0nelessdoodles · 2 years
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#4: Walter Wicks and a little Dobie Doubly for @dopiysworldsend!
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msschemmenti · 6 months
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Are You Jealous?
Chessy x Reader
prompt: jealous chessy :)
a/n: i rewatched parent trap recently and the craziest plotline in that movie was martin and chessy being lovers. both of them were clearly gay.
a/n: sorry this took so long lol unedited and probably pretty bad
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“I’d love to see you tonight.” Y/n smiled down the phone. It’d been about a week since she and Chessy had seen each other and with the house to herself, Chessy was going to take advantage.
“Well Nick and the girls are going camping for the weekend, if you’re up for a drive out to the vineyard?” Chessy asked hopefully.
“I think I can swing that. What time should I be there?”
“Everyone should be gone by 5. So anytime after should be good.” Chessy grinned.
“I’ll be there by 5:30. SHould I bring anything?” 
“Just yourself. I’ll make us some dinner and we can crack open something from the cellar to go with.”
“Sounds divine. I’ll call before I head out. See you soon.” Y/n smiled down the phone and waited for Chessy’s reply.
“Can’t wait.”
-
“Dinner was great Chess. Thank you so much.” Y/n smiled around her glass as she sat at the kitchen island watching Chessy move around the kitchen. They’d been dating for about four months and were as smitten as a couple could be. After Meredith, Nick started renting out the vineyard as a wedding venue as a bit of passive income. Y/n’s company had been one of the first to host a ceremony on the grounds. she’d been lost and had somehow driven up the Parker’s driveway and was met with a very beautiful woman waving her hands to stop her. from there their romance only flourished. 
“anything for you honey. after i finish these dishes we can go sit under the stars for a bit?” 
“i’d love to. why don’t i dry do we can start relaxing sooner? i need as much relaxation as i can get with this current bride.” 
“well get your cute butt over here and get to work. the stars won’t wait forever.” chessy grinned, reaching to pull the woman close by the waist. The couple washed in tandem, giggling and stealing kisses as they went. really just enjoying each other's company. Just as they put the last dish away, voices floated through the open floorplan startling the couple apart.
“Chessy, who’s car is that?” Hallie called being the first to enter the house. It wasn’t long before more footsteps were heard and before they knew it they were no longer alone. Now standing face to face with a very intimately domestic scene.
“Uh. Hi guys. What are you doing back so early?” Chessy asked, stepping toward the small family.
“Rain at the campsite so we decided to try again next weekend.” nick shrugged eyeing the guest placing the last of the dried dishes in the cabinet.
“Bummer. I’m sure next weekend will be better. We’ll just be going then.” Chessy answered quickly grabbing Y/n’s elbow in an effort to leave the kitchen. Before she could even move around the island all four members grinned mischievously at the nanny and moved in.
“Wait Chessy, aren’t you going to introduce us to your friend?” Annie asked looking past Chessy and toward Y/n. Chessy fixed them with a withering glare but sighed pulling Y/n forward as she prepared for the embarrassment. 
“Everyone this is Y/n, my friend,” she smiled toward the twins in censorship.
“Y/n, this is Nick Parker. He owns the vineyard. Elizabeth James, and their daughters Annie and Hallie.” 
Y/n smiled, politely extending her hand to shake each member of the family’s hand before stopping briefly at Elizabeth’s. “I know this is a long-shot but you wouldn’t happen to be the Elizabeth James? Like the wedding dress designer Elizabeth James, would you?”
“Guilty,” Elizabeth smiled.
“Oh I love your work. I’m a wedding planner and all the best dresses I’ve seen in the last 12 years have come from you.” Y/n gushed causing Elizabeth’s cheeks to glow in a blush. 
“How sweet, I’m so glad my dresses seem to rank so well.”
“Oh most definitely, I hope you’re still designing by the time I finally have a wedding of my own. I’ve always imagined I’d be in an Elizabeth James original for my special day.”
“I would love that, have you already got ideas? I could roughly sketch you something since we’re all here for the evening.” ELizabeth offered. Y/n took a step around Chessy to follow ELizabeth before turning back to her girlfriend.
“Do you mind Chess?” Y/n asked quietly, knowing that if Chessy said she did, she’d politely decline and hope she got the chance another day.
“No, go ahead, knock yourself out. Just come find me when you’re done.” Chessy smiled, pushing the woman over toward Elizabeth with a smile.
“Great, I can even show you some recent stuff I’ve been thinking about.” Elizabeth grinned, pulling Y/n through the hall toward her work room. As soon as the women disappeared Chessy could feel three pairs of eyes on her.
“Your friend, hm?” Hallie grinned rounding the counter to one side of the nanny.
“How come we’ve never met this friend before?” Annie asked rounding to the other side, effectively caging Chessy between them.
“That’s none of your business. And rain at the campsite? When’d you all become such babies?” Chessy chided, poking the girls in their ribs. They giggled helplessly as the older woman tickled them. “Wanna watch a movie?”
-
The movie had been on for half an hour and the other women had yet to return. Chessy’s attention had been divided the moment they pressed play. During the quieter parts of the movie, she could hear giggles floating through the halls. Chessy’s eyes wandered from the screen in hopes of catching a glimpse of her girlfriend returning, but she wasn’t rewarded. Both Annie and Hallie had anchored themselves on either side of Chessy, legs stretched to each end of the couch. They’d both been commenting on the film and asking questions and Chessy tried to keep up but after noticing her gaze shift to the hallway for what felt like the 100th time they took to giggling and quietly talking to each other. 
As the credits rolled across the screen, Chessy was finally granted some reprieve from her torture. Elizabeth and Y/n came around the corner arms linked, quietly giggling over a sketchbook. 
“Oh Y/n, you’re just delightful. I can’t believe you’ve done four weddings here and I’m only just meeting you.” Elizabeth shook her head in disbelief.
“My brides are always extremely high maintenance. They make it a bit hard to socialize at all!”
“Well, I’ll have to have you come by my local studio sometime. We just have to get together again.”
“Oh Elizabeth, that’d be great. I’ll have Chessy give you my info and we can connect sometime soon.” Y/n smiled as she placed her hands on Chessy’s head affectionately over the back of the couch.
“I’ll be sure to share that.” Chessy mumbled gazing up at the two of you. Both of their eyes still on the sketchbook. 
“Perfect! Girls, it's getting rather late. Say goodnight.” Elizabeth smiled down at the twins while rubbing her hand over Y/n’s shoulder. The girls obediently wished their goodnights before leaving the room. As they left Y/n caught sight of the time herself. 
“It is a bit late, I should head home. I’ve got a few early meetings. It was lovely meeting you all. Chess, will you walk me out?” Y/n asked, finally meeting the older woman’s gaze. The older woman followed behind Y/n closely and as soon as they were out of sight of the family her hands were resting on her waist. 
They came to a stop outside of Y/n’s car and the younger woman turned to face Chessy, “Well that was fun.” Y/n smiled as Chessy backed her into the car. 
“Well I’m glad someone had fun.” Chessy mumbled wrapping her arms around Y/n’s waist with a pout.
“And what’s that supposed to mean? Did you not have fun tonight?” Y/n frowned as Chessy sighed and dodged her eyes.
“I barely saw you tonight.” Chessy huffed. 
Y/n looked over the nanny’s face with a smile. Seeing the jealousy simmering in her mind. With a grin Y/n splayed her hands across Chessy’s chest and pulled on the collar of her shirt. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” 
“What? Pshh, No.” Chessy rolled her eyes. 
“Oh I don’t think that’s true at all.” 
“Well, I think you spent the whole evening with the Elizabeth James.” 
“Chess…” Y/n dragged out, pulling the older woman closer to her.The older woman grumbled but ultimately sighed as the younger woman pinched her cheek. “You know I would’ve stayed if you asked.”
“You seemed so excited. Listen I’m just grumpy the evening didn’t go as planned. I don’t particularly like sharing you.” 
“Well next time, we’ll aim for no interruptions hm?” Y/n smiled sweetly.
“I like the sound of that.” 
“Now give me a kiss so we can say goodnight.”
taglist: @theonefairygodmother , @sleep-deprived-athlete
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leoruby-draws · 11 months
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Introducing for the young Outlaw team, is... Argent/Toni Monetti and Boomerang Jr/Owen Mercer!!
I'd been wanting a speedster for the team, I really liked Godspeed but as I said in my last post it simply wasn't meant to be. But then I found Owen, and I just knew he would fit in perfectly.
Owen is the prankster of the team, tho the other kids like pranks as well, Owen takes it to another level. While he likes to cause a ton of trouble, he's a pretty nice guy regardless. He also loves his dad and idolizes him, his dad loves him a lot in turn. His father, the original Captain Boomerang is a bit torn on wither to bring Owen into the family 'business' or leave him out of it.
Interestingly Owen and Barry Allen seem to get along as well, Wally is baffled by their friendship. Barry might be trying to convince Owen to try to be a hero, instead of a villain. Honestly Owen isn't really sure what path he wants to take, tho for the moment he's just happy to have fun with his friends.
As an aside, his backstory is the similar to post crisis, he was just discovered at an earlier date.
As for Argent, while looking around for characters around Jason's age, I discovered the Titan characters from the 1996 Teen Titans book. I quite like them, and I was originally was gonna put Risk on the team, but Risk felt too similar so many other characters.
Thinking it over, I decided that Argent would make the more interesting choice, her personality would make more interesting dynamics with the others, not to mention her history with Rose Wilson. Plus I wanted a more feminine character, make the team more balanced.
Her backstory (along with Risk, Prysm, and Hotspot) is the same as post-crisis, their powers simply activated at an earlier age.
With these two, you can see that theirs a bit of a divide between more traditional good heroes, and a those with a more morally ambiguous bent. Tho that was what I was aiming for. I wanted to team to be diverse in powers, viewpoints, and come from different areas of the DC universe. I'm really liking how this teams working out, there might be a couple more characters to bring it, tho I don't want to make the team too big.
Anyways some 'concept' art of Toni and Owen, I'm really proud of Toni's design especially (took some inspiration from her 2003 cartoon design):
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And a bonus little comics of these two! Well, hope you like them! I really had fun drawing all this!
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The Fazbear House (A FNaF/Owl House Crossover AU)
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Welp I did another thing. I might as well just be called the AU Master because DEAR GOD do I have a lot under my belt.
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Cast Roles/Swaps: (NOTE: These castings are who I think would fit personality/design wise. THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO with FNaF shipping. Or these are just for fun. Just roll with it.) —---------------------------------------------------------
Luz: Charlotte/The Puppet
Amity: Elizabeth Afton/Circus Baby
Willow: Funtime Foxy
Gus: Bonnie
Eda: Chica
King: Freddle
Lilith: Toy Chica
Mrs. Noceda: Roxanne Wolf
Vee: Mangle
Belos: Springtrap/William Afton
Caleb: Henry
Hunter: Golden Freddy/The Crying Child
Odelia: Ballora
Alador: Funtime Freddy
Raine: Withered Bonnie
Darius: Monty Gator
The Collector: Vanny/Vanessa
King’s Dad/Titan: Nightmare Fredbear
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Story: Charlotte (aka Charlie) Titere is an introverted but creative child. Because of that, she delves into the stories of fictional characters from her favorite stories of Flora the Good Witch. After an incident at her junior high school (involving her pet project in animatronics) making a small ruckus, Mrs. Roxanna Titere decided it may be best for Charlie to go to a summer camp to help her get more connected with others. 
Charlie obviously didn’t want to go but didn’t really have a say in the matter. So while she waited for the bus, she sadly placed her book in the garbage. But only after a few seconds, she decided that was stupid and went to grab the book, only to see a little yellow chicken-like creature grabbing the book. The two stared at each other for a little until the creature sped out of there, causing a chase to ensue. Charlie ran and ran to catch the creature, following it to what looked like an abandoned pizzeria. She entered the old building, seeing the creature fly down a hallway, which Charlie followed. She jumped to catch the creature at the end of the hallway, but crashed into what seemed to be the security office… but instead flew into a purple and yellow wormhole. Charlie flew through the portal until she ended up in a strange place. She looked around what seemed to be a stall of some kind. She exits to see an older woman selling random junk from her hometown, calling it treasure. But she was relieved to see that her book hadn’t been sold yet. She grabbed and turned to leave but the portal she came in from had disappeared. The older woman finally noticed the frightened human and immediately closed up shop to talk with the child. Eventually they would learn each other's names, the older woman being Chida, and she was what she claimed “The Rotting Isle’s Greatest Criminal.” And well, eventually Charlie would come to live with Chida, and even attend Hexlock, the school for the young witches here…
And well, the story goes from there.
(This is an AU I hope to build WAY more of story/design wise. So uh yeah! I hope you all like the concepts! Also bios and what not will come out with the designs. Hope yall don't mind the non-Transformers content as well!)
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headingalaxys-spicy · 2 years
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Hi, I'm new to your blog and really like your writings. So in this ask can you really go hard in the agust category today. Yandere alpha Japan and Germany with an incredibly traumatized omega darling. Maybe they went to far in a punishment or they did something they knew they shouldn't have done, but did it any way just to show dominance. Now the darling the darling can hardly stand being in the same room with them with out being on edge, and they can smell it in the pheromones she produces. When they attempt to use their own pheromones to calm the omega down, instead of getting horny or at the very least calm, it drives her deeper into panic, it may even trigger a panic attack. A panicked omega is a sign of a failing relationship in society, so it's not a good sign. Maybe they used their pheromones against the darling one to many times, and now the mere scent of the yandere makes the darling sick and scared. All in all, something they caused that now they'll have to find away to fix it. It'll be incredibly difficult if not impossible to fix, or get the darling back to normal. I'm choosing tears today
( P.S. I'm sad clown Anon 🃏💧)
I’m not sure what I did with this 🃏💧but I still hope you like it.
*warning in place because it hits the feels also mention of blood and torture of sorts*
Yandere! Alpha Germany
He thought he could do it with his fine tuned plans and carefully thought out training modified to suit your body type. But, no. Like shattered glass that now lays on the floor his planning was all for not.
Y/N had yet another freak out when Ludwig came to give her breakfast. He wanted to give her the pheromone treatment. It was one of his last options he wanted to test. However y/n seemed to be in a worse state than she was in yesterday. A banshee shriek grated against his ears for a solid 30 seconds before y/n’s voice gave out.
Ludwig could tell by her puffy and swollen eyes that she’d been up all night sobbing. He saw the pillow was submerged in tears. She was in her own special type of hell living with him. He was intent on keeping it that way with Y/N behaving and becoming a part of his perfect design.
Shaking violently as tears fell down her face she was dehydrated and malnourished. She refused to eat and sleep. She was beginning to wither away. Ludwig was her jailor, demon, slave driver all of the things that were cruel and evil and depraved. He did feel a little guilty because he had planned for her a terrible ordeal.
An exo-skeleton that would create her to be like a legendary Omega that was like a Fae, complete with luminous wings. The exo-skeleton would also mean to increase Omega's desires in the bedroom and make her stronger. All of which she’s avidly against. She’s fought him over her ability to stay the same Omega that was normal and live her life how she wanted. Y/N has fought Ludwig on his plans for her only to have her voice be rendered inaudible to his ears. Ludwig isn’t flexible when it comes to his rigid planning and beliefs Y/N was perfect to him but she still needed “fixing” so she could match his flawless schematics. When he tried to reach out and hold her shoulder she jerked away from his offensive hand.
“NO! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!” You shouted with your creaky vocal cords.
“Y/N this isn’t-“
“FUCK YOU! Fuck your non-sense! Fuck your creepy expreiments! I’d rather be at the mercy of your gun than exist anywhere near you!” You didn’t have the capacity to care anymore. You didn’t want to be in anymore labs where they tried to change your genetics to become “rare” and more obedient. The prodding, bandages, medication, skeletons, wings, pre-operation procedures. Y/N was sick of all of it. She ran her hands through her matted hair and small chunks of it came out.
Ludwig grabbed her hands and restrained her. He slammed her onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud. “That’s enough Y/N!“ He shouted violently in her face.
Y/N began to hyperventilate and sob uncontrollably.
She twitched and let out an ungodly screech. Ludwig had broken her right arm in her humerus and radius. Her body was beginning to deteriorate due to all of the experimentation.
Ludwig let out an elongated sigh.
The paramedics came to piece her back together and put her into a medically induced coma until he figured out how he could unshatter a mirror.
Yandere! Alpha Japan
Another unsuccessful day of training y/n. She once again resisted transforming herself to be the perfect omega he desired her to be.
“That was disgraceful. That’s not how a traditional meid-o serves tea.” He gazes at the human ears you still had. It told him that you weren’t taking the medicine that had been prescribed to you to give you cat ears.
“Ret me guess. You haven’t been taking your medication have you?” His dusky brown eyes gleamed laser beams at your disobedience. You don’t confirm or deny his accusations. You thought it might be in your best interest to neither confirm or deny his statement. Maybe then would his anger dissipate and he’d forget.
You guessed wrong.
“Oh y/n it disappoints me that you’re this difficult to tame. Time to retrain you again.” He grabs that dreaded brain-wave length tool that he uses to “help” you. Ropes attach themselves to you that came from all four corners of the wall. They suspend you in the air while Kiku prowls around you in a circle.
He pierced his arm with a small dagger to draw some blood. A small grunt leaves him as he imbues the tool once again with his essence.
“This time it should work.”
*************
Y/N woke up in an anesthesia induced haze. Her stomach was in a tight knot. Her body felt like it had solidifying cement in it. Her head felt like it had an 18-wheeler truck ramming into it. She grips her cotton bedsheets as she hears familiar footsteps approach her door.
Dread made her stomach knot tighter, Kiku’s scent really made her mind reel in horror and her body prepared itself for fight or flight mode. When he opened the door to check in on her she immediately grabbed her trash can and her insides began to bleed out with crimson. The mere scent of Kiku secreted made y/n sick.
“Y/N Chan! shocked that his treatment plan was headed in the wrong direction. He tried to grab her shoulder and she jerked away in terror. His touch felt like hundreds of needles that burned her skin. It left it singed and vulnerable to the elements. Tiny droplets of blood began to peak their way onto her silky white pjs.
“Y/N?”
“Stay away.” You say in a broken voice. Blood is still streaming down your chin. You feel light-headed, your vision and body feel like they’ve been tossed into a Gravitron. It wasn’t long before a tv static clouded your vision and within seconds your body collapsed.
Kiku knew he’d broken you.
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tsukishimashoyo · 3 years
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Oikawa Tooru & Akaashi Keiji: Withered flower
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Oikawa Tooru
" And they lived happily ever after, that's the end so sleep now my angel" you said to your niece after reading her a fairytale story.
" Good night" she said and now sleeping.
You go back to your room and remembered the famous line of the fairytale stories " and they lived happily ever after"
You remembered your past relationship with a guy who proposed to you romantically where you felt so special that day but your tomorrow ended up the day where you felt like someone's stabbing many knives in your heart.
Your sister is pregnant with your fiancée. You're one and only family after your parents died.
" Y/n baby believe me I love you, and I didn't know, we were drunk that day, I'm sorry y/n, I'm really sorry" he said crying and kneeling.
" Oikawa Tooru, haha its okay Oikawa just please promise to take care of my sister and my soon to be niece/nephew, I love you Oikawa, I think we're not meant to be. Let's begin our story without each other from now on, okay? " you turn your back after saying that—trying hard not to cry in front of him.
You went to a bridge and scream all of your pain that lingers on your heart. You screamed and screamed until you get tired.
You went home and saw your sister crying on your room.
" Y/n I'm sorry I ruined your relationship with Oikawa, I'm really sorry y/n please forgive me, don't resent me, I'm really sorry y/n" she said the time she saw you and kneeled.
" Sis, don't cry, I don't hate you, I love you so please don't cry  its bad for my niece/nephew *you smiled bitterly* sis can I have a favor?" you asked her kneeling also while you cupped her face.
" *sob* w-what is it s-sis *sob*" she said between her cries.
" I want to be alone, can I have that? " you smiled on a verge of crying.
" Y-yes sis I'm really sorry" she said and walk out of your room.
You cried and cried until you fell asleep.
Time flew fast and it was until when-
After a day you flew out of country to have a space, and also to search whats the missing part on yourself.
You're walking on the aisle looking at Oikawa and beside you is your sister who's 6 months pregnant.
You gave the hand of your sister to Oikawa and smiled.
" Please take care of my sister Oikawa" you said after you go to your seat.
" I will y/n, I will, I'm sorry and thank you" he said.
——END——
Dear self,
Well I'm here to write my past relationship here and buried it to let go of this things. I'm happy that Oikawa loved my sister with those days they were together. I'm really happy that he let go of me and did not break his promise. I love my sister so much that I couldn't hate her even though it hurts for me that she's carying my ex-fiancé's baby. You can say that I'm too kind to let go these feelings but hey I just couldn't hate them, I know it's a mistake and I couldn't just bring myself to tell them that abort their child for me, for my happiness. The baby is not a sin it's a blessing for them and also for me. Maybe me and Oikawa are not destined for each other. I'll write my story without him now and move on. I hope that I'll come back to face them with a sweet smile on my face. I hope that someone will pick the key to my heart and teach me how to love again. This is a goodbye now.
"I love you for the rest of my life, and I'll wait for you no matter what, I'll wait and wait for you and never gonna get tired waiting for you, so you don't have to worry about me, you're the only person I'm willing to marry, so go and chase your dream and then come back to me and I'll welcome you with open arms" he said while getting on his knees and taking out a ring.
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Akaashi Keiji
Those words linger inside your head while remembering what you witnessed 2 years ago.
*2 years later*
Its time to go back to your hometown 'cause you are awarded-lessening your 5-year-contract work only for 2 years, and its for being promoted as an architect and also designated back to your country.
You're excitedly packing your things to go back to your hometown and surprise your fiancée.
* At the house*
You saw the living room so messy— bottles of alcoholic drinks are everywhere. You just shrug it off and went to your room to unpack and plan on how to surprise them but you're the one who's surprised and tears are racing down.
You shouted " I'M BACKKK!!!" while crying.
You saw them kissing, touching each other. Your fiancee and bestfriend are shocked. Your bestfriend starts to cover herself with the blanket and your fiancee panicks as he looks for his clothes.
After he changed he starts to explain.
" Y/n believe me I didn't cheat on you, we suddenly missed you and...w-we decided to drink... alcohol."
"One is enough Akaashi, I know this is harsh but I think this is better, I still need to go back there and I think this will end up you doing it gain while I'm away, and seriously, Akaashi? In our house? You could've done it on hers or motel you crap!"
" Yeah sure alcohol, get out of my house while I'm still on my right mind, I can't guarantee your safety if after 10 seconds both of you are still on my sight" you said clenching your both hands while looking at them angrily.
" Y/n believe m-me, we did it by mistake, I th-thought it was you while we're m-making out, I missed you that I drank alcohol with your b-best friend, please y/n I'm sorry, I will not do it ag-again, p-please y-y/n" he begged you but you didn't listen to him.
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a/n: thank you for the image and liner @senyuuno
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wordynerdygurl · 3 years
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Skin Deep - Part 6
Author’s Note:  Honestly, this story is nearing it’s ending.  Hard to believe that a little idea I couldn’t shake has now grown into this mini-series!  For all my die-hard homies, waiting for the next installment, I hope this is worth your while!  If you’re new here, take a look around, see if you like anything and please, let the management know if you have any questions!! As always, writing like this requires the emotional support of people and pets.  My dogs, Murphy and Winston, get me through a lot of plot bunnies just by being stalwart companions.  My husband, graciously, lets me take these flights of fancy when I probably should be paying better attention to him and his day... and some of my besties here on Tumblr make it possible for me to do this for you guys.  @sammy-jo1977​ , my sister from another mister!  Couldn’t/ Wouldn’t do it without you! To all the folks who follow me... My Minxes!  Love you all!  Stay well, be kind, and remember that Love, really does conquer all!  If you want to be a Minx, send me a note, I’ll happily add you to my tag list! Lastly, be sure to like and share anything that you see on Tumblr that catches your eye.  Creative types, we need the constant validation, you see?  Without it, like an unwatered plant, we wither on the vine and perish!  Be kind to those who help you through the day and reblog! Skin Deep Part 5 - click here for the previous chapter! Pairing:  Loki x Reader, Steve, Valkyrie & Thor all make appearances Summary:  Continued from Part 5, You and Loki put your plan into action, returning to Farmhouse.  When you encounter Steve again, you learn there’s more than two sides to this story. Warnings:  Loki’s POV and perspective, including mentions of his time under Thanos.  I’m re-writing MCU history here, but some of the main beats are the same, so look out for SPOILERS for Dark World, Ragnarok, and a touch of Infinity War.  The SNAP never happened because, reasons.  
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Empathy used to seem such a human emotion.  Loki had no time for that on Asgard, not when Odin denied anything as frivolous as feeling.  Hiding in plain sight was the means to survival and if that made the young prince sneaky and sly, so be it.  By placing those parts of himself under lock and key; the parts that hurt, the ones that ached, Loki found it was safer to disconnect from others than subject himself to their suffering too.
Operating under the influence of Thanos and his minions when he held the scepter, Loki had purposefully divorced connection of any kind from his mind.  It was dangerous.  Weak.  And moreover, it allowed Loki to do what Thanos commanded without really experiencing the horror, the havoc, of his actions for himself. 
  Who could hear the screams of women when the voice of Ebony Maw subliminally chanted all the ways that one could be dismembered at Thanos’ hands should Loki fail?  What man would shed a tear after the near constant beatings doled out by Black Order members, just for the fun of it?  How could someone care about a house, a car, a city, when they no longer cared about themself? Losing the Battle for New York had consequences far beyond the destruction of property.  With Thanos’ hold over him vanquished, the walls around his heart, constructed in youth, crashed and burned like the dream of ruling Earth.  Suddenly and completely out of reserves, Loki was powerless.  And he felt everything.  The fresh hurts caused by his manipulated ambitions in the hands of Thanos. The furious feelings of his brother, the inadequacies of his character, the feeble needs that drove his wild ambition washed over him unceasingly.  Anger.  Loss.  Lunacy.  Loki learned a hard truth in that moment.  He was a monster.  A freak.  A creature beyond hope and salvation; proving his adoptive father right and his own hopeful heart wrong.  Bitterness soured the fallen prince. Endless hours in isolation on Earth, which continued in his father's house, had Loki believing he had no chance of seeing the world outside again, and it hardened his heart further.  To feel was so painful, so raw, and so humane.  Why bother anyway?  All that emoting, those high spirits, all they really did was expose you to derision.  What was grief to a goblin?  What was horror to a monster?  What was love to a villain like him?  An evil, conspiring demi-god, with a mind bent toward domination.  A damaged, destroyed, deity alone and in pieces.  Who would ever give someone like Loki Odinson a chance?  Why should they?
Turning to his mother, Loki did everything but ask for forgiveness.  In long rambling talks, her projection to his jailed person, the pair talked around ideas of guilt and innocence, of fate and fortune, of destiny versus desire, yet Loki never heard the words he needed in order to truly find peace.   
If Frigga was aware of her son’s need for absolution, Loki would never know, as their last exchange was harsh and full of anger.  Another stroke of loss, crippling now, because there was nothing Loki could do to change any of it from inside his prison cell.  No illusion could conceal the painful ache that consumed him entirely. 
Those days were dark, even for a soul as dusky hued as his own, and Loki’s thoughts followed a similar path.  If there had been a way for him to shake off this immortal coil, free himself of the burden of living, Loki would have done so and been glad.  Death was welcome compared to all this longing and heartache. But life, even a nearly immortal one, was funny. 
When Thor provided a chance at redemption, Loki snatched at it, in his own detached way.  He played hero, rescuing Jane, aiding his brother.  And if he took a bit more in the form of deposing his arrogant, aging father, who would be surprised?  He was Loki, God of Mischief, after all. Ruling the Nine Realms without the oppressive oversight of his father allowed Loki to prove himself in ways he never imagined.  And Loki wasn’t just good at it.  He was great. Of course, it helped that no one knew he was Loki.  Living disguised as Odin was often unpleasant, frequently frustrating, but entirely necessary.  Being Loki was still too difficult and likely to bring unwanted attention in the form of The God of Thunder, a thing that no one truly wanted, Loki least of all. Return Thor did, along with an unknown sister and the end of Asgard.  When confronted with the insanity of Hela’s bloodlust, Loki’s only thought was of his kingdom, now without a ruler.  He had worked too hard, too long, to see the land he cared for in the hands of an enemy, even if she called herself sister.  Opening the Bi-Frost, panicked, his mind was solely on saving those he had recently held dominion over.  They were his people, after all.  But he never reached Asgard. Swallowing his fear, Loki focused all his energy on staying alive in a new and distracting environment, initially.  What Loki found on Sakaar wasn't a new home base under a flamboyant, ineffective leader that he could control, even if that was his first design.  On Sakaar Loki found his loyalty.  
The proud, deep resonance of being Asgardian, of being an Odinson, of being capable and cool under pressure.  Sure, he had to prove himself to Thor, Valkyrie, Banner and honestly, the rest of the kingdom, but actions speak louder than words.  And through his actions on Sakkar, and by extension rescuing the people of Asgard, Loki had shown everybody his true mettle. It was on the deck of a stolen ship headed for Midgard that  Loki had made a commitment of sorts.  One that was not to the people, so recently saved or for his found family.  This time, the promise Loki intended to keep was for himself.  Loki was going to change. The problem is, a task like that takes time.  Patience.  Motivation.  It was something that Loki had to work at and it was exhausting. They say that the best things come to those who wait.  Loki was learning to wait everyday.  Having earned a place at the side of his brother, he worked tirelessly to win over the heroes of his new home planet.  Was it easy?  Hardly, but Loki wasn’t willing to compromise.  Not anymore. A life like Hela’s was not in his runes.  Loki was simply going to be better.  Not perfect.  No one could be as good hearted as Captain America, nor could one be as tech savvy as Stark.  So Loki was planning on being the best Loki he could possibly be, and that’s how he found himself going to meetings at The Avengers Tower, a mostly welcome addition to the team. Meetings weren’t all that exciting and boredom was an awful temptation for a deity devoted to mayhem.  In fact, Loki spent more time doodling in his notebook than listening to whoever was droning on about whatever part of the world needed the attention of this motley crew.  That was, until Pepper Potts hired her new assistant.  That you were polite, pretty and pert wasn’t lost on the young god.  Sitting outside Mrs. Iron Man’s office, typing away with a phone tucked under your ear, moving faster than anyone he had ever seen was certainly impressive.  You were quick witted, clever and most of all, funny. Everyone else seemed to fall under your spell without much effort on your part, something that Loki found frustratingly fascinating.  Here he was, struggling to get people to say his name without having a traumatic flashback, while you simply smiled and smarted off prettily, and had everyone singing your praises.  But Norns, were you adorable. If he thought about it, and while off planet, Loki definitely had, he could remember the moment he realized that you were the woman he wanted.  You were busy, as always, fielding phone calls and flipping through screens yet every moment your flying fingers weren’t hovering over a keyboard or pushing down telephone buttons they curled around a heart shaped charm at your throat.  Clearly, it was a habit and one that you weren’t even aware of, still - it transfixed him all the same.  Watching you from his side eye, your voice never wavering, your tone always so pleasing, and your nimble digits returning again and again to the small sigil around your neck.  “Loki?” “Huh?”  Dumbfounded at your call, those deep sea eyes blinked wildly at the sound of his name on your lips. “Hi!  Yes, Pepper can see you now.  Go ahead, she’s ready!” He rose on stiff legs, adjusting his tie, about to lie to Tony Stark’s woman all for the chance to see you in passing.  Who had he become? It started out innocent like that, but soon, Loki was having to invent excuses for being in the office so frequently.  Missing files, random visits, even going so far as to buy Tony coffee just for the thrill of seeing you.  Something needed to change, and quickly, or Loki was going to blow. On another made up errand, hanging around the executive’s high rise office, Loki was doing a bad job of pretending not to see you.  His mind was on your pouty lips as you sipped lemonade through a straw and not on the stately woman seated behind the desk. 
“Loki, you’re a man of some… style.”  Pepper said it so casually that he almost didn’t hear, his head lost in thoughts that would shame any other person. “I like to think so.”
Shutting her folder with a snap, Pepper smiled, “And you’d love to help your old friend Pepper out, right?” That got his attention, and quickly.  Loki, shoving his hands in his pockets, turned to face Pepper with a widening grin, “I feel like I’m being baited.”
“Baited?  Never!  It’s just, you’re always here and I have a… project that needs the kind of help that you can provide.”  At those words you entered the office, ready for action with a notebook and pen, eager and excited. Suddenly, it was all clear to Loki, “Pepper, no.”  
The noose closed in on the handsome god as Pepper gathered paperwork without looking his way, “Come on, it’s the Stark Homecoming Gala and the two of you will do great!  I have faith in you both.  I can’t wait to see what you come up with!” “Really, Miss Potts, I simply can’t-” Stopping short, the strawberry blonde whipped around, almost nose to nose with Loki.  Shrewd and straightforward, Pepper interrupted, saying, “You’ve been dancing around my office for weeks now.  Clearly you like her and… against all the odds, she likes you too.  I’m doing you a favor and when someone does you a favor, you say “Thank You”.” “Thank you.” Nodding curtly, “You’re welcome.  Now, make yourselves comfortable, order some dinner, my treat.  And do whatever you need to make sure this is one great party!” That’s how Loki found himself sitting at a clear glass table over sweating bottles of iced tea as you discussed color themes and tablecloths.  You were shy, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you reviewed notes from previous gatherings both large and small.  His hands itched with wanting to do that job himself. “So, what do you think?”  It was the first time you had addressed him directly since coming through the door and for a moment Loki couldn’t answer.  You were too… not beautiful, that wasn’t the right word, although you were.  No, you were too open, too easy to read, and the earnestness you offered him was downright frightening. Sitting forward in the uncomfortable, yet fashionable, office furniture, Loki cleared his throat and again tugged his tie, “What I think is that you should let me take you dinner.” Dropping your eyes, your cheeks colored slightly as your fingers found that locket charm once more, “Loki, I… I don’t know-” Grabbing for your hand, suddenly afraid that you would take those shining eyes away, Loki lowered his voice and did something he never thought he would.  He begged.  “Please?  I find that you’re all I can think about.” It rushed out of him in a torrent, the way truth so often does, and he found himself unable to look you in the eye.  Loki was afraid to see rejection on your easy to read face, afraid that wanting you had cracked open the lock box holding his heart, afraid that you would see just how weak you made him.  Your fingers twined with his own as you replied, “You didn’t let me finish.  I don’t know what took you so long.” Sighing with relief, his face melting into a genuine smile, “Me either.” Over the next two months the pair of you worked tirelessly to plan and execute a perfect party.  You were inseparable during the day, heads buried together as you discussed linens and table settings, the quality of cocktail glasses, and debating over a band or a dj.  But at night, at night Loki talked about the things that haunted him in the dark.  And you loved him in spite of the awful things he had seen and done and said. Others took notice.  Loki was more lighthearted, more available.  He listened when people spoke and wasn’t constantly doodling during meetings.   Yes, Loki was learning how to love through your loving him.  If empathy had seemed too humane before, then sharing his life, his love with you, was the kind of immortality that earned someone a place in Valhalla.  It was the bravest thing Loki Odinson had ever done and he didn’t mind one bit.
The first time Loki tasted you was burned into his brain, as bright as a flash of lightning.  A firefly in a memory jar that he kept returning to, time and again.  Loki remembered what you were wearing.  He recalled exactly how the light shone in your eyes.  If he concentrated, he could tap out the rhythm of your racing pulse as he held you in his arms. It was the night of the gala.  Inviting everyone under the Stark Industries banner, up to and including the heroes tasked with saving the world, the event was a way to earn money for one of the many charities Tony supported.  The place was full of beautiful people wearing gorgeous clothes under perfect lights set to the hand crafted soundtrack you had created together.
But, Norns, he could still remember the way your eyes sparkled under the lowlights of that hall.  How your dress, simple but sophisticated, clung to the fullness of your bottom.  Low cut but somehow still modest, Loki couldn’t tear his gaze away from the promise of your curves, willing himself to find anything else as interesting as the idea of you.  
You were across the room hanging onto Tony’s every word, eyes bright and cheerfully glowing as you sipped champagne.  It made Loki want to do something grand, something suave, something that would demand your attention for his own.  Moving towards you, his tuxedo perfectly pressed and fitting better than it had any right to, Loki looked long and lean.  Each of his steps seemed to echo, even though the room was full of sound, and you turned your head as if you also heard.  Breaking away from the cluster of acolytes surrounding Iron Man, you bit into your lip as the crowd parted, moving closer together one step at a time.  It was one of the sexiest things Loki had ever witnessed. Lifting your glass in a toast, taking in the room of mingling millionaires, wealthy hangers on and Avengers, “Well, we did it!” “You did it, my dove, I just hung around and judged everyone.” “Oh stop.  I couldn’t have done it without you and you know it.”  Playfully you pushed against his shoulder and Loki took advantage, using your momentum to pull you to his side, your curvy figure flush against his own. Crooning into the shell of your ear, his lips brushing over that sensitive skin, “Somehow, love, I think you would have managed.”  Before you had time to think, Loki had melded his mouth with your own, stealing your breath along with your heart.  Loki’s feet moved in time with the music as he pulled into a dance, laughing in his arms, your cheeks hot and your head swimming. You laughing was, without question, Loki’s favorite sound.  Nothing in this world or any other came close to matching the joyful, childlike glee of that enchanting noise.  Loki memorized its melody, the rise and fall of your giggle.  He had craved it, being away for so long, and now he wanted… no, needed to hear it.  But you were the furthest thing from happy at the moment.   
"Darling, please.  We have to go."  Loki tapped his watch, shaking himself free from the memories of your previous life together and barely suppressing his irritation.
Tears filled your eyes as you whipped your arms around Thor’s mighty shoulders, his deep voice grumbly with emotion, "Take care of him, would you?  He's a jerk, but Loki is the only brother I have."
"Of course… always.  And Valkyrie, your highness, I can’t thank you enough for-"
"No need.  Loki, and by extension yourself, will always have a safe haven here in my palace."
Looking on, Loki and Thor embraced almost tenderly before crashing their heads together.  
"Stay safe, little brother."
"Be good, Thor."
Eyes on the sky, Val ignored the show of masculine emotion, chastising your plan, "You’re going to start a war, Loki."
Straight backed, Loki turned to the king, "Not on the grass of New Asgard.  I will take the fight to them, that is my vow to you."
As Loki offered his hand, Valkyrie shook it, with parting words, "Work on staying alive.  You have a tendency to worry your brother."
Solemnly nodding, "As the king commands.  Shall we?"  With that Loki laced his fingers with yours, leading you a few paces away from the people who loved him most, before summoning the magic that had you both transcending space and time.
This time when your feet touched down it was on the familiar turf of the orchard, surrounded by the scent of apple blossoms and the buzzing of happy bees.  Morning had broken and the world seemed full of promise, with the exception of that knot in your stomach.
"Are you ready?  Darling?"
"Oh… yes.  I mean, I still don't love this plan, but-"
"But it's going to work."  Only it was no longer the baritone voice of your long, lean Loki speaking.  In his place stood Nick Fury, leather duster and eye patch in place.
"If you say so!"  And you clutched your own throat as Natasha’s bored tones came out of your mouth.  The suit, skin tight but flexible, molded to your modified form.  All in all, you were comfortable, "The boots are a bit much."
"Ya think?  This jacket weighs a ton."  Pulling at his collar, "Why does he wear a turtleneck anyway?"
"Loki, this is so weird.  It feels so weird."
"Agreed, but then, why am I so turned on?"
Laughing, you shook your false red hair, hands resting on Natasha’s waist, "God, I've missed you."
"Same, dearest.  Now… let's get your necklace and some answers!"
---
 Convincing Bucky to head home had taken a lot of work, but sometime around 2 am Steve had finally seen his friend off.  The house was empty.  Steve felt the same way.
Turning the black velvet box in his pocket, fingers crushed against the fragile fabric, Steve struggled to feel anger.  When that didn't materialize he shot for sadness but even tears seemed beyond his ability.  
With a sigh, climbing the same stairs he had trudged up a hundred times before, Steve started going through the motions of bedtime.  Only tonight you weren’t there to tease him about the wildly inappropriate amount of toothpaste on his brush.  He didn’t have your light footsteps to follow to the bedside or your help with stacking all of your extra, yet entirely essential, pillows on the chair.
Someone must have changed the sheets, he thought.  There was no evidence of you and Loki’s adventurous afternoon anymore.  Steve made a mental note to thank Buck for that little piece of kindness in the morning.
Shucking his shirt, Steve sat on the mattress, a hand to his forehead.  He had lost.  Captain America had been bested.  Beaten.  And by Loki, no less.
Moonlight in silver slivers shone through the window panes, squares of light in the deep of night.  Steve was alone.  Utterly and totally alone.
And there was no one to blame but himself.
Sighing hard, Steve stood, pacing the floor to work off some of the unspendable anxiety he kept creating.  The room still had your energy, your vibe, as you liked to call it, and the feeling was a prickling itch Steve couldn’t quite satisfy.  Traces of you were everywhere and something about you leaving all of it, and him, behind was just too big to process. “Damn it.”  Even whispering sounded like thunder in the silence of your recently vacated room.  His hands, so big, so strong, smoothed along the fabric of your hanging clothes.  All that power had done nothing to help Steve get the thing he wanted. Sorting through the baubles and trinkets on your dresser, bottles of perfume he had purchased, necklaces and pins, each with a moment of memory it hurt him to recall.  Your watch ticked away the minutes as he stood, stoic and still, surrounded by the shadow of you.  In the orchard the birds were waking, their song filling the air, as morning broke in low golden rays.  Abandoning his plan for sleep, Steve watched as the light chased away the dark, casting rainbows on the floor.  The sun was reflecting off of your Grandmother’s necklace.  A pretty, ancient, carved cameo,  heart shaped locket.  He recalled his own mother owning one just like it, pictures of loved ones pressed inside, holding them as tight as history would allow. Fisting the filigree chain, winding it around his fingers as if it would somehow undo what he had done, Steve slipped it into his pocket before settling back onto the bed.  ----
At the back door to the home you so recently shared with Steve, Loki hung back, “I think this is where we split up.  You go find your treasure and me… I’m going to find some answers.” Nodding, Natasha’s signature red hair swinging, you squeezed the hand holding your own.  It no longer looked like Loki’s long fingered paw, but that was only a skin deep change.  You felt the undeniable essence of him in the press of his fingers against your own. “Be careful.” “That’s no fun, dove.” “Loki-”  You hated the way your voice broke as you said it, but there just seemed to be so much at stake and you had already lost him once. Sensing your unspoken concerns, Loki flashed you Nick Fury’s best smile, “I will.  I promise.”
“Ten minutes.” “Ten minutes.”  You watched the black coated back of your charmed paramour as he opened the shed door, hoping that he’d find something worth knowing in that place out of sight.  Inhaling deeply you twisted the doorknob as quietly as possible, letting yourself into what was once your kitchen, “What a mess.”  It was impossible not to notice the unwrapped leftovers and empty bottles littering the table.  An overturned trash barrel, crumpled beer cans littering the counter, things that Steve, your Steve, would never have tolerated.  All evidence that the grand evening he’d envisioned had been thwarted by Loki’s arrival and your collective escape.  
You started up the stairs, praising Natasha's footwear for its stealth, when you heard the toilet flush and the unmistakable shuffle of Steve’s feet on the carpet.  There was no place to hide on the wide stairwell.  It was time to see if Loki's plan was going to work.
Voice blurry, eyes rubbed red and raw, you couldn't deny that Steve looked like shit, “Bucky?  That you?  You back?”  Steve’s voice bounced around the brightening room as morning sunlight filtered through the soft sheers you had picked out for exactly this reason. Panicked, you backed into the railing with an over loud “Oof!” “Nat?  What are you doing here?  I thought you and Fury were headed to New Asgard?”  Suddenly wide awake and wondering, Steve rushed to your costumed side, eager for information. The man in front of you now bore little resemblance to the angry Avenger you had escaped from hours before.  This man had hair sticking up in odd angles from near constant finger raking.  This man had a hint of a stuffy nose and red rimmed eyes, all indicators that tears had been shed.  Now those blue eyes were scrutinizing you closely, full of concern.
“Uh… We... We got intel.  Yea, intelligence, that Loki was headed back this way.  Turned around… and uh, here we are.” One of those sandy blonde eyebrows lifted, “Natasha?”
Squaring your shoulders, channeling that cool confidence you’d see Black Widow display over and over, “Steve?”  Something about your tone of voice convinced him in a way your words couldn’t.  He visibly relaxed, those broad shoulders going slack as he asked, “Didn’t make it to Norway, then?"
Nodding a negative, you felt the unfamiliar brush of her red hair at your cheek and had to fight the urge to tuck it away, “No.  Loki’s using some sort of transporting power to move them around.  Fury suggested I keep an eye out here, in case they come back this way.” “She won’t be back, Nat.  There’s nothing for her here.”  To you, Steve sounded so sad, so removed, that you had to will yourself not to comfort the giant before you.  “That’s not true!”  It came out of you forcefully, thoughtlessly, and you saw the shock register on the Captain’s face. “That is, Fury and I… we… have reason to believe that she will come back.  They left with nothing, Steve.  She’ll need clothes… maybe some shoes… and-”  Swallowing hard, you didn’t want to give anything away, “-a necklace from her grandmother.” Steve, patting his pocket, felt the weighted chain and it’s heart shaped locket, “I don’t think-” Stepping up to his bulky form, suddenly aggressive, you started, “Never mind what you think, Captain.  We're here for a necklace...  the necklace.  Our intel suggests that your former flame might return for it and… And, I want it, with me, as a means to subdue her when she arrives." Sounding forceful and official was enough to back Steve down.  Just a touch deflated, you watched him shrug, “If that’s what you want, Nat, here-”  From his pants he pulled out the shining bauble, a trinket really, but full of sentiment and memory. Sitting in his palm, the tiny heart that held the picture of your grandmother and mother looked so small, almost unreal.  Reaching for it with wet eyes, you smiled at Steve as you lifted the charm and chain, “Thank you, Steve.  Thank you.” Nodding deeply, that golden head bobbing, “You’re welcome.”  The large grandfather clock could be heard ticking throughout the house.  The sun was gaining on the day and you, dressed as Natasha stood in silence in front of a somber Steve.  For another long beat nothing was said, then, as if sensing a shift in your conversation, Steve flashed your fake Natasha a weak smile, “I could use some breakfast.  How about you?”
“Um… sure.  Yea, ok.  Breakfast.” 
Steve started moving again, downstairs towards the cluttered kitchen when he paused, "So how did you get back so fast?  Cause that's like a 7 hour flight, even with you in the cockpit." “Steve…”  You could hear it, the whining almost pleading tone that signaled the end of Loki’s well planned charade.  That wasn’t enough to stop Steve.  He broke hard, one of those strong arms stopping you in your tracks before you could reach the lower level. “It’s clever, I have to give you guys that.  Almost perfect, really.” Panic rising, you doubled down on the ruse, struggling to keep your voice even, “I don’t know-”  Blocking you in, his body the perfect unmovable buffer, “Loki’s here too, isn’t he?” Pushing against “Steve, I… I don’t…” “Don’t lie.  You don’t have to…” “But… how-?” “You’re not mean enough to play Natasha, doll.  Not by a long shot.”
--- It was strange to be seated at the table and chairs that you and Steve had picked out together one sunny Saturday when you thought that your future was going to be Loki-less.  Your place, the one that you had imagined filling with children that had golden hair and bright blue eyes, felt like a set.  Something false and fake.  A facade, put together simply for show. Steve must have felt it too because his fingers drummed against the white washed table incessantly.  Clearly he had something on his mind.  “Steve-” “No.  No.  Please, let me just get this out, ok?” Raising an eyebrow, you waved at him to continue, nervous but interested in what the super soldier needed to explain. With a shaky inhale, running his constantly moving fingers through his golden locks, Steve caught your eye and didn’t waiver.  “When I saw you… No, that’s not right.  Let me start at the beginning. “When Loki left Earth, you… you were so sad.  It hurt me to see you so… deflated.” “Steve, I-” “You know it’s true.  When he returned to Asgard, something in you, it dimmed, and I just couldn’t allow that… Not when I felt the way I did about you. “I don’t think you realize just how incredible you are… how full of life!  And since I had already missed one chance to be with you, I knew I needed to prove that I could be the man you needed… If you forgot about Loki along the way, even better. “Only… you never did.  I waited years for you, ya know, doll?  Years.  And just when I thought there was no chance with you, Nat gave me a reason to hope. “She was your friend.  An ally.  Someone you could trust… someone I could trust.  I swear it started out that innocently, at least for me.  I just wanted to make you smile again.  But she had other plans.  Plans that came from higher up the ladder of SHIELD. “Fury, he wanted us to watch you… something about Loki being too powerful.  And-”, grabbing your hand tightly, Steve emphasized his point, “-I promise you that I had no idea about his success, or the messages he had sent to you through Nick.  Like you, I thought that Loki was gone.  Missing.  Never coming back.” “I… I believe you Steve.  I know that you didn’t do all this on your own… but what was Nick hoping you’d find out?  I knew less than nothing about what was going on!” “I think he was worried that Loki would get to you first.  That if… when Loki returned, you would be his first stop.  Then you would know about Loki’s success and, frankly, Fury’s failures.  You would also know… well, everything you know now.  That Fury had you tailed, lied to, and led on in an effort to stop Loki from out flanking him.” Frenzied and frantic, you felt anger boiling up inside of you, “But I thought Loki was gone forever.  There was no hope for him and I… and Natasha, she told me that he was dead.” “All a part of Fury’s plan to keep you neutralized and Loki away.  If Loki thought that you’d ignored his letters, that you no longer loved him, why would he come back here?  And, if that didn’t work… when Loki came back and you were with me, what else could keep him on Earth?”
Whispering with realization, “So, they used you too.” Steve sighed and buried his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, “Don’t feel bad for me.  I let them use my love for you, let them twist it up and shape it as they needed.  Honestly, I wish I could tell you that it was for you, but it wasn’t.  It was for me.  I wanted you, so, so badly.  I didn’t care what strings were attached.  And we built a life together, you and me.  I thought I could outrun the reality of the constant monitoring and daily reports.  Telling Natasha and Nick about every word and each email.  Don’t you see, I love you… and I wanted you, however I could get you.” Shaking your head, Natasha’s red wisps flying, “That’s not love, Steve.  I don’t know what that is… but love isn’t it.” “No?”  With a loud thunk, Steve slammed a small velvet box on the table between you. “Is… Is that what I think it is?”
“Last night.  It was going to happen last night.  Our friends here, under the lights and the stars, I was going to ask you to marry me.  I still would if-” Realization hit you like a ton of bricks, “If Loki hadn’t stepped back into our lives.” “-If Loki hadn’t stepped back into your life.” It made you both laugh in a sad way, how you finished the same thought, and for a fleeting second you could see why you had allowed Captain America to sweep you off your feet.  He was a lot of things to you now, but there was a time when he had been almost everything.  The evidence of that was in the small black square that said nothing but spoke volumes. “Steve, I don’t know if I would have said yes… even without Loki’s… arrival.  I think I have always known that you and I… we are very different people.” Sitting back in his chair, his gaze still locked on your own, “I just want you to know that I’m sorry.  I’m sorry about what I’ve done… what I’ve said… How, shit, how I’ve behaved.  I could say that it was my duty.  I could tell you it was out of love, but the plain truth is that I have always been jealous of what you and Loki share.” “You’ll find it Steve.  You really will.  There’s a person out there waiting for you.  And once you’ve found them, oh Steve, you’ll see that this… what we had, it’s a shadow.  An illusion.  Because love, real love, doesn’t come with caveats and catches.  It is an undeniable force which, in my case, even the boundaries of time and space can not deny.” Something like a sob burst out of Steve, and you were surprised to see tears in his eyes, “I was so wrong.  Could you ever forgive me?” “I want to, Steve.  I really do... “  What more could you say?  Patting his hand you started to rise, “I have to go now.  Loki and I need to keep moving and I don’t want to risk running into Nick and Natasha.  At least, not yet, anyway.” “Where are you planning to go?” “To the Avenger’s Tower.  I believe I know what Mr. Fury has been planning all along.”  Loki’s strong voice entered the conversation as smoothly as his arms wrapped possessively around your waist. Steve took in the protective stance of your returned lover with a raised eyebrow, and without further comment asked Loki, “Really?  And how are you going to breach the building?  They’ll be looking for you, even with disguises…  Fury is no fool.  Plus, there’s little chance that Tony hasn’t activated a million safety and security protocols by now.” Only interested in you, Loki refused to give Steve any of his attention, “Getting in can’t be that hard!  I’ll figure it out when I get there.  Ready pet?” With a gentle push under his broad hands your feet started to move towards the door.  Loki was eager to be off and away, especially after hearing so much of Roger’s confession.  Just knowing what Steve had done, manipulating you while also convinced of his love for you;  it was enough for Loki to commit murder.  He was having quite a difficult time not tearing the good Captain’s limbs off his body. Softening his tone, Steve practically pleaded, “Loki.  Wait.  I… I can help.” Turning his attention fully to your former flame, Loki purred venomously, “You can help?  I’d love to know what entails, Captain.” “I can get you into the place and take you exactly where you need to go.  Fury’s going to hate it, but I’m tired of taking orders that hurt the people that-”  His pause was as lingering as the look he gave you, “- That I love.”  Before Loki could offer a sincerely sassy reply you grabbed his sleeve, tugging, “Um… Excuse us a minute Steve.” Pulling him down the hall of a home that felt like a familiar faced stranger, you waited until you had a bit of distance from Steve before harshly whispering, “How long were you listening?”
Serving you that small, sexy smile, Loki grinned, “Long enough.  How did you know I was there?” “You are sneaky, but even you, God of Mischief, cast a shadow.” Swinging you close enough to catch your mouth with his own, Loki pressed a sweet kiss there before answering, “A mistake I will be careful not to make again!” “The tower, huh?  That’s where you want to go?”  Grabbing you at the swell of your hips, grinding his frame against your own, “Where I want to go, my darling, is to the nearest bed, preferably naked, with you and you alone.” Your hands traced over the lapels of his borrowed leather duster, pausing only to jerk him closer by the supple fabric, “Hmm… is that so?” “Oh yes…”  Loki’s buttery grumble filled your ear as his strong hands dug into the flesh of your bottom.  For a moment you thought he’d give in to temptation, his sweet lips teasingly close to your own upturned mouth, “But-” On your toes, leaning into Loki’s sturdy, leather draped frame, you paused, “Ugh.  But?” Moving you to a safer, less kissable, arms length away, Loki sighed with the same frustration you felt, “-But, where we need to go, as soon as possible, is the Tower.” Moaning grumpily, you stepped out of the arms you longed to linger in, “I was afraid you were going to say that.” “I know it’s less than… ideal, love, but I did find something useful before the good Captain unburdened his soul this morning.” “And that is?” “Fury’s plan.  At first I couldn’t figure out exactly what he was after.  What did Fury want?  How was I involved?” Loki was dragging this out, loving how it kept you hanging onto his every word, and you rolled your eyes, “Well?  What is it?  Weapons?  War?” “All of that, yes… and… yours truly.”  That triumphant smile that filled Loki’s whole face lit up his mischievous eyes.  Tilting your head, struggling to make sense of what Loki had just told you, “What do you mean, you.  Fury wanted you… to do what, exactly?’ “Loki was going to be the patsy.” You both turned toward the sound of Steve’s baritone at the door, suddenly remembering that the Good Captain was still there and that he was waiting to see what you were going to do next.  Leaning his 100 year old bones into the doorframe, Steve crossed his arms, “The fall guy.  An example of what happens if you cross SHIELD.” “I think, my dear Mr. Rogers, that you mean, I am to be used as an example of what happens if one crosses Nick Fury.”  Loki countered, slinging an arm over your shoulder protectively. The idea was frightening.  A man like Fury had too much power, too much at his disposal.  Just knowing the lengths he had gone to in order to keep you and Loki apart was scary enough.  Making enemies of your friends.  Threatening the people you loved.  Selling your affection to Steve in an effort to control Loki.
Now, the knowledge that all of it was done in an effort to ensure that Nick Fury was the toughest guy in the galaxy, it made your stomach clench.  “What do you mean, an example?” “Unless my intelligence is flawed, I believe that Fury was going to kill me.  Is that correct, Captain?” Steve felt the weight of two sets of eyes on him.  Yours, full of fearful love and blind hope that this was all just some misunderstanding.  Innocent and naive and as lovely as he could ever remember.  Loki’s were reflecting a deeper understanding.  The kind of knowledge that only time in the trenches teaches. There was no answer from Captain Rogers.  None was needed.  Honesty, final and resolute, was out in the open.  “Look.  I know I’m not the guy you want on your side.  I’ve… I haven’t been the man I needed to be.  Not for you-”  Steve locked his bright blues onto you, offering a small smile that spoke of sadness before facing Loki, “-Or you, Loki.  But if you let me help you now, I promise that I can get you into the tower and maybe, one day, you won’t think so little of me.” 
Around you the morning gained strength.  Somewhere nearby birds chirped wildly, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in the modest little farmhouse and its implications on intergalactic politics.  Without  moving a muscle, Loki plainly asked you, “Do you trust him, dearest?” Squaring your shoulders, you crossed your arms, staring down the man called Captain America.  Nodding decisively, “I do.  I don’t think he’d spill everything like that only to turn on us.  He’s not so bad Loki, really.” “We’ll see about that.  For now, we trust Steve.  Ok, what’s your plan, Rogers?” --- “Hey.  I… I have one other thing to show you.”  Steve was dressed for action in his branded tactical gear, looking every inch the super soldier that Dr. Erskine envisioned. “Steve, we have to get moving.  Loki’s eager and -” “Just open it, ok?”  The envelope was thick with folded paper, the flap tucked under and not sealed.  Clearly it had spent time in and out of pockets, the edges frayed and tattered.  In exasperated curiosity you gingerly pulled the sheets free.
Shaking, your hands trembled holding the once white documents as your voice thickened, “Is this… is this what I think it is?” Cocking his head playfully, that rueful smile pulling at his full mouth, Steve almost seemed cheerful as he teased, “It’s yours.  I think something about this place has always been yours and I want you to have it.” “But-” Folding your small hands in his mighty ones, Steve squeezed gently, “It was a wedding present, or it was supposed to be.” “But we’re not getting married.” “I know.  Still-” “I can’t, Steve.  It’s yours.  Your house, your farm, your dream.” Shaking his head, disagreeing, but feeling lighter than he had in decades, Steve insisted, “Too late, I’m afraid.  It’s done.  Actually, that version of the deed has been signed since our second week here.” As realization sunk in you appraised the man changing right before your eyes, astonished but exhilarated, “Where will you go?” “I dunno.  Think I might need to be alone for a bit.  Maybe see the world… but first-” “First, we have to stop Nick Fury.”
To Be Continued... My Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​ @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​ @jenjen8675309​ @that-one-person​ @roguewraith​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​
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teawaffles · 3 years
Text
It Happened One Night: Chapter 2
The country house Mycroft had introduced them to was a little smaller than the nobles’ mansions they’d been to thus far, but it was an elegant villa, one which exuded a sense of history.
Its exterior was built in the Gothic style, with stone foundations. Planted in the vast gardens was a sea of flora in exquisite colour schemes, delighting the eye of any onlooker. [1]
Of course, the interior didn’t disappoint either: it was richly decorated, with intricately crafted furniture in every room; and hanging from the walls were portraits of the mansion’s owners, as well as landscapes painted by renowned artists. As Sherlock and company were here as guests, they were restricted in the number of rooms allowed for use, but the sheer number of luxury items that greeted them was still far greater than what any ordinary person could ever hope to obtain.
Their lives had literally been turned around.
Turned around…… and yet.
“——Booored……”
In the room he had picked himself, Sherlock looked out the window, gazing at the tranquil garden flooded with gentle sunlight.
It had been three days since they’d moved in, and Sherlock had already grown weary of this lavish lifestyle.
He only took care of the plants in the garden insomuch that they wouldn’t wither, but otherwise he had no interest in the flowers themselves. Moreover, he had already tired of gazing upon the decorations and furniture and paintings in the house. The underground wine cellar aroused some interest, but as an invited guest, helping himself to the liquor as he pleased was evidently a breach of etiquette.
In the end, there wasn’t much to do in this mansion.
As John had suggested, requests from clients were reaching him by mail in the meantime, but they had all been simple cases, solvable just by reading the letters. Couldn’t one difficult case come in sometime? Sherlock sighed heavily as he wrote down the solutions in his replies.
His boredom was plain as day. John, who was seated across him, spoke up in a soft voice.
“Sherlock. We just got tangled up in a big incident a while back, so isn’t it a good thing to take a break for once?”
“Y’know, John, just one day of rest is enough for me. If I don’t get the right level of stimulation, my brain will get all mouldy.”
“What an absurd……”
Just then, the door opened.
“Sherlock, John-kun, I’ve made some tea.”
Miss Hudson walked in bearing a silver tray. On top of it were some nicely baked biscuits, and black tea in teacups with simple designs. As they’d been given permission to use the kitchens, she had been devoting her spare time to baking.
“Thank you, Miss Hudson.”
“Thanks—”
The two of them each took a biscuit from the tray on the table, and munched on it.
“How is it? I’m quite proud of them myself,” she asked.
John nodded in satisfaction.
“It’s very delicious. Right, Sherlock?”
“Oh, it’s good, yeah,” he replied, deadpan.
Miss Hudson shook her head sadly.
“……Well now. If you’re this bored, why don’t you head down to one of the nearby villages? Seeing as there’s such fine weather too.”
Sherlock sent his gaze out the window yet again.
“That’s true……. And if an interesting case pops up, it would be just my luck.”
“Don’t say something so troubling — we’ve worked hard for this peace and quiet.”
John was familiar with Sherlock’s character, but this level of addiction to his work was nothing short of astounding. Miss Hudson, clearly worried by the detective’s words, placed a hand on John’s shoulder.
“John-kun, with Sherlock in this state, I’m worried he’ll get up to no good. Just in case, could you tag along with him?”
“Certainly; leave it to me. It’ll also be a perfect opportunity to get some exercise.”
“What’re you both taking me for……?” Sherlock grumbled — he’d been half-joking, and was surprised to find his words being taken seriously.
Then, with Miss Hudson taking care of the house, the two men set off.
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦
The Cotswolds was a region 200 kilometres west of London, renowned for its rustic charm, with its rolling hills carpeted in verdant grass.
From where they were, they could see flocks of white sheep and tiny villages dotting the vast green landscape. The village buildings were constructed from limestone: in the northeast of the Cotswolds, it was the colour of honey; in the central region, it was golden-yellow; in the southwest, it turned white instead.
Walking along a path which cut through some pastures, Sherlock and John arrived at the village nearest to the mansion.
A small stream meandered through the village, and built along it was a series of stone houses. It looked right out of a picture book.
Their hearts healed by the idyllic scene before them, the two men headed to the centre of the village, in a bid to find some boredom-busting information. There, they found a two-storey inn. When he noticed that a section of the first floor had been converted into a pub, Sherlock broke into a grin.
“Oi, John. Let’s have a pint to pass the time.”
John shot him a dubious look.
“Sherlock. Drinking during the day isn’t something I approve of.”
“It’ll be fine. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a vacation anyway — why not let loose for a bit?”
“And who was it who said he’d had enough of resting just now……?”
This was a fine example of what it meant to do an about-turn.
But it wasn’t the first time Sherlock had done something on a whim. John reluctantly followed him into the inn.
As expected for a country pub in the daytime, there were only a handful of customers seated quietly inside — it was nothing like the bustle of the city. At the counter was a tall man, who looked like he was running the business alone.
The two men sat at the bar. Sherlock ordered beer, while John chose some light snacks. As their orders were served up, Sherlock took a swig, then directed a question to the owner.
“Hey. Isn’t there anything interesting going on around here?”
At this vague question, the pub owner rubbed his chin.
“Anything interesting, huh. Well there is, but it’s a family matter. Are you two tourists?”
John spoke up. “No, it’s complicated…… For various reasons, we’re staying in the residence of a nearby landowner for the time being.”
“Hmm, so you’re a close friend of this noble?”
“That’s not it either…… This man here is the detective Sherlock Holmes, and I’m his assistant.”
“Ah, I’ve heard of you. So you’re that Holmes. Must’ve been tough comin’ all the way out here.”
It seemed he had little interest in celebrities: hearing Sherlock’s name didn’t stir up much of a reaction.
Sherlock stared into his beer glass.
“By the way, you said something just now about a ‘family matter’?”
It seemed he had remembered what the owner said earlier, about there being something interesting. Then, the owner’s voice turned slightly cheery.
“Actually, my daughter’s in London now, and she’s getting married. She’s bringing her fiancé here the evening after tomorrow. I’ve met him just once before, but he’s a solid chap. I was kinda worried she’d get on with some weird fellow, so I’m relieved.”
“Congratulations — you must be proud.”
At John’s words, the owner rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.
“Thanks. I’m also planning a wedding celebration that night, with some friends from the nearby villages.”
Sherlock hummed in reply. It wasn’t clear if he was interested or not.
“But the second floor is used as an inn, right? Wouldn’t the noise invite complaints?”
“Not to worry: there’s only one person staying upstairs now, and I’ve already gotten his agreement. Anyway, it’s pretty rare for outsiders to come to a small village like this. I still run the inn for formality’s sake, but most of my income comes from this pub.”
“But there is one person here.”
“Yeah, a guy who just arrived a while ago. It seems he’s an obscure painter; he said he wanted a quiet place to concentrate on his art and stimulate his creativity, so he’s rented a room for around ten days.”
That number startled John.
“That’s quite a long stay.”
“The rooms are all empty anyway, so I don’t mind at all. Also, instead of an atelier, well…… can you see it from here?”
The owner pointed at something beyond the window. A little ways from the inn, at the end of a patch of exposed, blackened earth, stood a small shed.
When the two men caught sight of the shed and nodded, the pub owner continued.
“It was originally a stable, but got remodelled into a storage shed. This guy said it was easy to concentrate there, so he moved lots of bulky luggage into the shed via carriage, and now he spends most of his day cooped up inside.”
“Something seems off. What happened to his original belongings?”
“There weren’t many to begin with, so now they’ve been moved to an empty room on the second floor. The others in the village don’t really like him, but he pays his bills on time, so I’ve nothing to say to that. And there weren’t many things in the shed in the first place, so he’s not causing me any trouble.”
Just as the owner finished speaking, the shed door opened, and they saw a man walk out alone.
Sherlock spoke up.
“Is, that the artist?”
“Yeah, his name is Rheos. I think he’s from around France.” [2]
Rheos was a pale, lanky young man dressed in awfully shabby clothes: he truly looked like an artist detached from reality. His shoulder-length hair hid most of his features, but his quick steps revealed the strength in his legs. He was carrying a large, dirty case under his arm.
“…………”
Sherlock stared with inscrutable eyes as he tried to figure out where Rheos was going, but quickly turned back to the barkeep.
“So, is he using this place as a base, and travelling around the area to paint landscapes?”
The owner shook his head.
“I thought so too at first, but apparently he practises by referencing works from famous artists.”
“Hmm, you said earlier that he always coops himself up in that shed. I thought he’d go out during the day if he’s painting scenery.”
“He’s an odd one, that’s for sure. But anyway, I’m the one who took him in, and he hasn’t caused any problems so far. I say it’s up to him where and how he wants to paint. ——By the way, Mr Detective—”
He leaned over to Sherlock a little.
“What is it?”
“From your detective work, I’m sure you’ve seen many strange cases, now haven’t you? If you’re willing, why not tell us about one or two at the dinner party?”
The owner broke into a wide grin, but on the contrary, Sherlock’s face twitched. To be honest, it was simply awkward to attend a complete stranger’s wedding party. Hence he decided to gently turn down the offer.
“……Umm, thank you for the invitation, but——”
“——Hmm? How about it? It’s my precious daughter’s wedding, y’know. I’ll do anything to make things even a little more exciting.”
However, contrary to his expectations, the pub owner seemed adamant that Sherlock regale the guests with stories from his detective work. The strength of his insistence had flustered Sherlock for a moment, but eventually, he clapped his partner’s shoulder beside him.
“In that case, John here can go. After all, he’s witnessed many of the strange things I’ve encountered up close.”
“Huh? What’re you saying, Sherlock!?”
Realising that he was being offered up instead, John panicked. As much as he wanted to congratulate the happy couple on their marriage, he didn’t want to be sent out to speak before a whole bunch of strangers.
“You’re always complaining about this and that — only now do you appreciate me? It’s not fair!”
“No need to be humble. I can personally guarantee your ability as a storyteller.”
“No, hold on just a——”
“——Oh, so you’ll be speaking in place of him, eh?”
Unfortunately for John, the owner had now set his sights on him.
“U-Uh, I……”
John put both hands before him in an effort to convey that he wouldn’t be joining the party, but in the face of the pub owner’s blinding smile, he realised all resistance would only be futile.
“Alright. I shall attend……”
“Thank you. As a further token of my thanks, have some slightly more expensive beer on the house.”
Now in a great mood, the owner took two bottles of beer from the shelves behind him.
Having been forced into speaking in public about their cases — a fine mess indeed — John was downright depressed. Sherlock patted him on the shoulder.
“Sorry. If I were to talk instead, it would just sound like I’m bragging. Do you want to get some practice in while you can?” suggested Sherlock, with a half-smile.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
John shot him a reproachful glare.
Footnotes:
[1] To give you a sense of how the house might look like, here are some examples of Victorian Gothic houses: The Guardian
[2] Rheos (pronounced ray-oh-s) is honestly my best guess at his name… (In the book it’s written as レオス). Rheos is also a real name!
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unmaskedagain · 4 years
Text
Yeah, I’m done
I got in this prompt in November, if I remember right. I didn’t really look at it because… What the hell is a fall out fic?!!! I thought maybe it meant Lila exposed but I’ve done quite a few of those. However, I don’t really think I ever focused on it too much; usually, I stray to all the wonderful things Marinette does without them. This came from someone anonymous so It's not like I can just ask the sender… SO I decided to wing it.
Marinette could honestly say she had waited a very long time for Lila to be exposed as the liar she was. Over a year in fact. A very long fourteen months.
           If Marinette was honest with herself, she would also add that she stopped waiting for any reason other than the fact she hated lies about… seven months, three days, and seven hours ago.
           Why did she remember that so well?
           That was the moment Marinette stopped trying to save everyone. Don’t get her wrong; she was still Ladybug. Ladybug was still a kickass hero. She did her job better than ever before.
           However, Marinette decided to take a step back, breathe, and let the chips fall where they may.
           Her fellow students, her once friends, had been trapped in the spider web of Lila’s tales; awestruck and utterly hypnotized into believing everything the Italian girl had to say. Even the ones about a girl most had known their entire lives.
A bully, they called her.
A selfish jerk.
A jealous bitch.
           Her! Marinette! The girl who had done so much for them; had gone to bat for them more times than she could count, and obviously more times than they could remember.
           Slowly, one by one, her friendship with each and every member of the class withered and died until there was nothing left but ashes.
           It was then Marinette realized some things weren’t worth saving.
           Marinette had no trouble forgiving them; it was who she was. But she promised herself she wouldn’t forget.
           And if they could treat her like this, after everything, that she didn’t want to be friends with them anyway. Not now, not ever.
           When Marinette stood up and announced her resignation from being Class President at the end of the prior school year, the entire class cheered. Like they did when Chloe was forced out of office. (…That only broke Marinette’s heart a little.)
           The bluenette changed her number the day after school officially let out for summer. It wouldn’t matter, she knew. She doubted they’d even realize. Most hadn’t so much as texted her in months. Unless they needed something; a favor.
           But Marinette was done with favors. Done with free commissions that no one ever seemed to realize cost her an arm and a leg; the fabric was expensive, art supplies for banners were expensive, designing was time-consuming. She was done with any free babysitting. She was done to bring in free sweets on big test days or when the class had a hard week prior. Marinette was done fundraising for class trips and events Bustier would exclude her from at the behest of the rest of the class for her “poor attitude” and “negative energy”. She was done with planning birthdays, making special presents, when no one in class even bothered to wish her a happy birthday.
           And most of all, Marinette Dupain-Cheng was done fighting for people who didn’t fight for her. She had tried for months and months to get them to listen to her and what did she get in return? Deemed a green-eyed Liar! As far as she was concerned Lila and Chloe could have at it; do whatever they wanted.
           She didn’t have a single friend in class.
           They weren’t her concern anymore.
           It took about a month into the new school years for the class to really understand that. Lila had originally voted in as class president, and had feigned a few tears while thanking the class for the honor but had declined due to being too busy. So Alya was voted in next.
           Alya handled the first two birthdays, Ivan’s and Alix’s, really well; she decorated their desks, gave them a birthday card. However, the usual tray of baked goods that were usually brought in for every birthday never showed.
           When Alya inquired if Bustier had forgotten to order the cupcakes, the teacher had looked confused.
           Marinette tried not to smirk as she sat in the back of the class, pretending to look over her sketchbook.
“I’ve never ordered any before,” Bustier said. “Marinette always did. She was class president. It was her job.”
           The two looked back at Marinette; expectant looks on their faces.
           The Asian girl snorted. It was never the class president’s job. Chloe never did it in all the years she ruled the class with an iron fist. Marinette had done it because she had been their friend. And she didn’t order them. She bought the ingredients and made them herself.
“It’s the job for the new class president,” Marinette corrected and watched Alya’s face fall. Normally, at that point, Alya would try to ask Marinette for a favor; for Marinette to do it instead.
           However, the glasses-wearing girl had taken to ignoring her ex-bestie as much as she could.
“Fine!” Alya huffed. “I’ll do it myself.”
           The next thing the class realized had changed was when Bustier announced, “Maybe it’s time we start planning for any class field trips?”
           Alya had nodded earnestly, and started making outrageous plans for all the trips the class could take; one to Paris Disney world, another to England, New York, L.A, and so many other very costly ideas.
           Ideas, when Marinette was Class president, she would’ve quickly shot down as being impractical, expensive, dangerous, impossible, and any whatever other reason she could think of so the class wouldn’t get their hopes up.
           Alya did no such thing.
           Marinette just shook her head, and let her ex-friend dig her own grave.
           The announcement happened in the morning. Alya had stayed behind when the bell rang for lunch to talk to the teacher and had blatantly glared at Marinette as she said so
           And Marinette knew exactly what Alya was planning on talking to Bustier about.
           Sure enough, at the end of the school day, Bustier had made another announcement; in front of the entire class.
           Marinette really hated how unprofessional the teacher was.
           Bustier made it clear that, once again, Marinette was excluded from the class trips that year until her behavior changed. This caused half the class, specifically Lila and Alya, to send her smug looks.
           Marinette had nodded, “I understand, Miss Bustier. I can’t say it won’t be a relief not to have to help fundraiser.” The smug looks didn’t entirely disappear but a few faces looked confused instead as if they didn’t realize that meant Marinette wouldn’t help. “I always hated all the planning it took,” And doing all the work, she didn’t add. “Fundraiser after fundraiser. Coming up with the budget, making reservations, clearing it with the school board, clearing it with the parents, getting chaperones, actually raising the money.” She gave a fake sad sigh. “Oh well. Hope you guys have a blast though.”
           Then it came time to plan for the first fundraiser. A bake sale.
           Marinette had nearly fallen out of her chair laughing when Alya brought it up. Because the bluenette had always hated doing bake sales as she was the only one who ever brought in any baked goods. It was like the entire class thought that just because Marinette lived in a bakery it would be easy for her to get all the food needed.
           It wasn’t. She made most of it herself and bought the rest with her own money.
“So who’s going to bring what?” Alya asked. She looked straight at Marinette and seemed to wat for the bluenette to speak. Only for Marinette to raise an eyebrow as if daring her to ask. Alya looked surprised for a moment before she seemed to remember that Marinette wasn’t going to help out. “We’ll make a list.”
           No one said a word.
           Marinette leaned back in her seat, with a smirk on her face. Alya had said they needed to raise at least $2,000 for the bakery. A highly unrealistic goal. Marinette had only ever raised $423 from a bake sale before.
“I can bring in cookies,” Alya offered once the silence and confused looks continued. “Anyone else? Nino?” She asked her boyfriend.
           Nino’s eyes went wide, “Uh, I usually just play the music.” Alya glared at him. “But my mom has a killer blondie recipe. I can ask her to make some.”
           Alya nodded, “Sweet. Rose?” And then, one by one, Alya called on each member of the class to see what she could force them to bring.
Even though all but one person in the class promised to bring something; it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t a very big class. Theirs were the smallest in the entire school which was why new kids always got stuffed with them. In addition, flyers and a banner still needed to be made to promote the fundraiser.
It was clear as she looked at the list that Alya knew they were in trouble. And again, her eyes went to Marinette, a little bit more pleading now. Marinette just shook her head and started sketching a new dress.
She was done with always coming to the rescue.
Marinette didn’t go the bake sale. However, she heard about how much of a disaster it was from Aurore, her new friend from Mendeleiev’s class.
Half the food was burnt and overpriced. The flyers were terrible. And then it rained halfway through.
Suffice to say, the fundraiser was a bust.
And so were the fundraisers that came after it. Never once did the class meet their goals; though admittedly, their goals were never realistic, to begin with.
Marinette knew for certain by December that there was no way the class was taking any of the “oh so amazing trips, and it’s such a pity you can’t go, Marinette” they had planned. Or any good trip for that matter.
It took months for the school board to approve big trips; weeks to approve small ones. Paperwork needed to be filed with detailed plans ready to present. If a big trip got approved, and then for some reason, they couldn’t go and decided to do a smaller trip instead, new Paperwork would need to be filled out. The new trip would need to be approved. It wasn’t like Bustier could take the class somewhere without permission. And if it wasn’t done in time, there would be no trip.
In late October, Marinette posted a flyer on the class board, and around the school, promoting her new website. It got curious glances but only Adrien asked about it.
Adrien, who was neither enemy nor friend, but a neutral party who refused to get involved. His version of the high road, Marinette guessed.
“What’s that?” He asked. “You starting your own business?”
           Marinette nodded, “MDC designs. I designed a bunch of clothes over the summer and got a few friends to model them; Aurore, Marc, Luka,” Juleka looked up at the mention of her brother “Kagami, Ondine, Claude Mireille; and a bunch of girls from the fashion club. People can choose the premade designs already promoted on the site and I can send it to them in their size. Or they can contact me for a custom piece; dresses, scarfs, nearly anything really. That’s a lot more expensive, though. Not at much as it would’ve been, say last year, but now that I’ve stopped doing free commissions, I could lower the price.” She said the last sentence louder than polite but she wanted the entire class to hear.
           No one in class blinked twice at her statement. However, Marinette knew they would.
Adrien nodded happily, “Cool, that’s kind of what my dad did in the late 90s when he was starting out. Computers were like barely a thing he said.”
           Marinette couldn’t picture a time without computers or her smartphone and couldn’t imagine a life without the internet. She shivered at the thought. “Aurore’s become really well known as an Instagram model. I gave her a few outfits in exchange for her promoting my stuff. She even got a few of her model friends to promote my clothes as well. It’s going really well. If the trend continues; I was thinking of doing a live, online, runway show. I’ve already been scouting places.”
           That got some envious looks. Whether it was because Marinette was doing so well or because others would be used as her model, she didn’t know. She didn’t care.
           Marinette was done caring about every stupid little thing.
           The blond just nodded with enthusiasm, “You’re a great designer. I’m sure you’ll be a hit in no time.
“Hopefully, rather than later,” Marinette smiled. “It’ll go even better when Nadja promotes me on her show. I just have to babysit Manon for free for five random days of Nadja’s request that she could request … any time.” It had been a steep price but Marinette had been willing to pay. “She’ll even promote my runway show if I ever have it.”
           The first time someone, Mylene, realized just what Marinette had meant when the drama club inquired to her about getting more costumes for the school play and she had no one to turn to. She took one look at commission prices for local tailors for custom pieces and nearly threw up. Marinette’s website, while still expensive, was a much better deal. Still, Mylene couldn’t afford it.
           Nino needed a gift for his mom and remembered how much she loved the scarf he got her last year. He thought it was a good idea to get her something similar. But then he remembered Marinette had made the scarf. And Alya would kill him if he bought anything from Marinette’s website. So Nino settled on something small.
           When the school dance came, for the first time the majority of the girls in class would have to buy their own dresses. They came from a store, were cheaply made, and were not nearly as amazing as the ones they previously wore.
           All in all, it wasn’t the greatest year for Bustier’s class. Midterms had taken a heavy toll. It tense and everyone was clearly frustrated. So were Marinette’s friends from other classes. So during Lunch, Marinette surprised her table with delicious baked goods as a pick me up. The ones she normally would’ve brought just for her class.
           Marinette pretended not to notice the hopeful looks on her classmates faces when she walked by with the iconic light blue Dupain-Cheng bakery box. And ignored the crestfallen looks on their faces when she headed them out to just her friends.
In April, it was clear that the trip to New York had fallen through as they didn’t have enough money. Alya had to rush to get something small approved before the end of the year; a trip to the local amusement park. Marinette didn’t laugh when Alya announced it to the class who looked really bummed all their hard work didn’t pay off. She didn’t even blink twice. It had nothing to do with her after all.
           In May, the truth finally came out. It happened on a Thursday.
           Lila had forgotten her lunch bag at home. Her mother brought it. Lila’s eyes went wide at seeing her mother and she did everything she could to get her out of the class as soon as possible.
           Rose asked Mrs. Rossi, “How the meeting in Achu went?”
           To which Lila’s mother replied, “A what now? I’ve never been to Achu.”
           Marinette had merely leaned back in her seat to watch the fireworks.
           And it was beautiful.
           It was an even bet as to who had the bigger meltdown.
           Mrs. Rossi: when she learned just how much her daughter had been lying; to her, to the school, to her classmates, and basically everyone she met since moving to Paris. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time and it caused a lot of trouble in the past which was why they had to move to France. Mrs. Rossi was quick to refute any rumors about celebrity meetings, traveling around the world, and ever meeting any royalty. And that Lila had no medical issues whatsoever and didn’t participate in any charity organization.
           Lila: she had nearly been Akumatized when her mother started to reveal the truth. Luckily, Ladybug had been nearby to catch the little butterfly. (Marinette had just left to the bathroom, not that anyone had really noticed). The hero refuted ever knowing Lila outside of stopping her akuma forms.
           And Finally Alya: who had burst into an angry rant and furious tears at being lied to. It was another near akumatization. Alya had to be physically restrained from attacking Lila once the realization hit her about her blog being discredited for lies.
           A lot of the class yelled and made accusations but no reaction was nearly as extreme as the other three. Lila had taken advantage of her classmates for almost two years. They carried her books, remade plans so she could be included, took notes for her, threw parties to celebrate her newest accomplishments.
           However, Marinette noted, not one of them mention the friendship they had destroyed because of their belief in Lila. She shouldn’t have been surprised.
           The bluenette had long since realized she wasn’t ever as important to her ex-friends she once thought.
           The entire class was still angry the next day. Lila didn’t show so vented to each other.
           Marinette still sat in the back of the class, content to come up with designs to present to a nice lady who wanted a killer dress to wear to her sister’s wedding, and let the class deal with its own drama.
           Unfortunately, some people didn’t get a clue.
“Marinette,” Adrien said brightly. Marinette fought not to look up at the sky and ask god why. “What do you think about the Lila situation?”
“I don’t really care,” The bluenette said. “I was done with the whole thing a while ago.”
           Suddenly everyone remembered Marinette was there. Marinette who swore Lila was lying for months. Marinette who they had ostracized and exiled. Marinette who they had ignored. Marinette who had once been their friend.
           Rose gasped, her hand over mouth, tears welled up in her eyes, “Marinette! I’m so sorry,” She cried.
“I can’t believe we were so mean to you,” Juleka said.
“Dudette, I had no clue what I was thinking,” Nino said.
           More apologies came, each one more heartfelt than the last. Alya had been last. She looked like she had been stabbed from the pain her face. Eventually, the glasses-wearing girl cried, “I’m so sorry girl! I’ve been the worst bestie ever. I should’ve believed you over Lie-La.”
           Marinette looked at her classmates, shrugged, and said, “Okay.” Then she went back to looking working.
           That was it. However, clearly by the silence that came from the class. They had been expected a bigger reaction. Tears of joy and relief. Happiness to have her friends back. Anything but they got nothing.
           Alya frowned, “Didn’t you hear us? We’re sorry. We should’ve trusted you, we know that now. We’ll make it up to you, we promise.”
           Marinette sighed but shook her head. “No. Thank you. I don’t need you to make it up to me,” She said. “I don’t want you to make it up to me. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing.”
“But, but…” Rose looked around for help. “We’re friends again.”
“Yeah,” Adrien said brightly. “It can go back to the way it was.”
           At that, Marinette put down her pencil. She gave the class a hard look. “Let me make this clear because I have no intention of repeating myself: we are not friends. None of you,” She gave pointed looks to her ex-friends, the longest to Adrien and Alya. “Are my friends. You were mean. You called me names. You spread nasty lies about me because Lila told them to you. You excluded me from all class activities; despite the fact that last year I did the majority of the fundraising, the planning, and the work. You hurt me. Things will not go back to the way they were. I don’t trust you. We are not friends. And we will never be friends again. No amount of apologies will change that.”
           Alya went to protest, “Girl, we’re-”
           Marinette interrupted her, “Just move on. I have.” Then put her headphones in until Bustier managed to get control back over the class. As far as Marinette was concerned there wasn’t anything left they could say.
           …
           That didn’t stop them from trying.
           No one in the class seemed to believe that Marinette, their everyday Ladybug, wouldn’t forgive them. Lila had been withdrawn from school and no one knew what happened to her. And without Lila’s presence, the class was sure Marinette would have no problem moving on from the drama the Italian girl had caused.
           They never even considered the fact that Marinette had never been angry at Lila. She hadn’t been happy at her lies. But she had been furious that her friends had fallen for them so easily, particularly the ones about the bluenette.
“Hey,” Alya said brightly stopping in front of Marinette’s desk the following Monday morning. She thought Marinette just needed the weekend to calm down. “All the girls are planning a slumber party at Rose’s on Friday, you in?”
“No,” Marinette said firmly. “I’m busy,” She offered politely.
           And she would be “busy” every time they wanted her to do something.
           Too busy to go to all the parties she had been previously excluded from. Her ex-friends still hadn’t realized Marinette had never wanted to go after she realized they just weren’t worth it anymore.
           Too busy hanging out after school. Or go to Adrien’s photoshoot. (Alya just wouldn’t understand that Marinette was so done with her crush on Adrien.)
           Too busy to help with the school play.
           Too busy to watch Kitty Section preform.
           Too busy to go play video games.
           Every day, every moment they could; her ex-friends were trying to pressure her into being their friend again, hanging out with them again, forgiving them. They just wouldn’t take no for answer.
           Honestly, Marinette was just done with their antics.
           Particularly the incessant need to make sure Marinette was on the “big” class trip; as if they believed if Marinette went it would make up for everything.
           Marinette made it clear she really, truly was way too busy to go some random beach trip. She really did have plans and she couldn’t back out of them. They were too important.
           But her ex-friends kept bringing it up, with Alya leading the charge, over and over again. They didn’t care what Marinette wanted at all. And once more, Marinette was reminded why she was glad they weren’t her friends anymore.
Eventually, once again, they got the teacher involved. Bustier had so “nicely” announced in front of the class, that Marinette was more than welcome to go on the class trip with them and that they looked forward to coming along.
And as far as Marinette was concerned that was the final straw.
“I’m good,” Marinette said. “Seeing as my behavior hasn’t changed. I think its best I don’t go; right Miss Bustier? That was what you said? And obviously to you thought it was a good reason.” She reminded the teacher. Bustier flushed a pink color at being called out. “It wasn’t like you, an adult woman, caved into peer pressure from your students and a childish need to avoid confrontational situations.”
           Silence from the class. No one had expected Marinette to react as she did. In their minds, she was still their “everyday ladybug”; the nicest and sweetest girl in school. The idea made Marinette scoff. Where was that mindset when Lila got ahold of them?
           The bluenette glared at the teacher, the woman who should’ve never let the Lila issue get as far as it did; never let Marinette be ostracized and bullied. “I mean, you called me out in front of the entire class to tell me I couldn’t go. Not the first or last time, by the way, you did something so… crass. Not the most sensitive way either.”
“Well, I think-” Bustier had tried to say but was cut off.
           Marinette wasn’t going to let her have a word in, “I’m so glad I started to record lesson last year, for you know notes? You know after that expulsion incident? I worried about what I’d miss. It made it so easy for my parents to understand why I was excluded from class events because they could watch it. I mean I have months and months of video evidence they just… loved. They got to see exactly what this class is like on an everyday basis, and exactly how you run it. So did our lawyer, who seemed rather interested in my school. It turns out that physically harming, via tripping or pushing them into walls as you walked by just hard enough for it to hurt. Or destroying private property; like a phone, spilling water on a laptop, or sketchbooks filled with work for commissions. Or verbally bullying someone. Or sending horrible texts daily, all of which I saved and printed out, can be considered harassment. Which is illegal and the perpetrators involved could face criminal charges as well as be sued for the destruction of said property and for emotional ramifications I suffered. But a teacher would never let anything like that happen in front of them so it wouldn’t be on any of the videos I have, right?”
           She let the words fill the room. Bustier had paled dramatically and looked ready to faint. The rest of the students who had taken to bullying Marinette instead of ignoring her looked sick. Marinette had no sympathy for any of them. They got themselves into this mess.
           Marinette shook her head, “I asked them to chill for now because you’re the teacher. You did what you did for a reason. It’s not like you’d shirk your responsibilities on the class representative. Or force some poor student to be a model example and mediator for all class issues. Or god forbid, cater to the bullies and blame the victim; allow one of your students to be verbally and physically harassed daily. The videos I have surely would never show anything like that; let alone prove it in a court of law… No matter what my lawyer says. But again, you don’t have to tell me why.” Marinette already knew why after all. And she was so done with Bustier. “You had to have had a good reason. Otherwise, I would have to take this to the school board. And a judge in a court of law. And see if you can explain it to them. Maybe I’ll even send them to my mom’s best friend Nadja so she can put them on her show and the world can see too. And we can find out what everyone thinks of you and your teaching methods.”
           The threat was clear to all.
           Bustier better back off. Or Marinette would make her back off.
           The teacher only had to slip once, and she was done for.
“Enjoy the trip,” The bluenette smiled cheerfully, in a way that reminded them eerily how she used to smile at them when Marinette was still their friend; still their “everyday Ladybug”. But instead of bringing warmth as it used to, all they felt was shivers. “It might our last one altogether. After all, who knows where we’ll all be in September. May be separated into different classes. Or different schools. With the way Damocles expels students with no procedure whatsoever, you never know. Or have a new teacher. We can only guess. I think its best if we just… leave things alone. With the way things are, if you push, you might get pushed back… right off a cliff.”
Marinette was done playing games.
           When the class left for their “big” trip, Marinette had finally let out a sigh of relief. Next, she was so transferring to Mendeleiev’s class.
           She was done with Bustier’s class.
           While the students of Bustier’s class were playing at the beach and plotting their next move to get Marinette to forgive them, Marinette was fulfilling one of her biggest dreams.
           The bluenette did have for her online runway show. She had spent weeks and weeks promoting it on her website. Aurore, some of the fashion club, and other rising Instagram models walked the runway in Marinette’s new line. Jagged hosted. It hadn’t been Marinette’s idea, but Jagged complained to Penny when Marinette turned him down the first time and Penny talked to Marinette.  
Chloe made a deal to her mother to watch the runaway show to review in exchange for Chloe being one of the models. Again, Marinette expressed concerns but couldn’t turn down the chance of Style Queen seeing her clothes.
Marc helped designed the runway; to give it an artistic, futuristic, edgy look. Claude brought in a smoke machine and his laser machine that the used for his short films to make everything really pop.
Clara Nightingale let Marinette use her music as the runway music. The superstar performed a song during the show and promoted it on her social media feed in exchange for a few custom pieces and Marinette getting Ladybug to do some selfies with her. (Tikki had to be bribed with an entire tray of chocolate chip cookies, and to be left alone with the TV in Marinette’s room for the night; something about finally catching up on Game of Thrones.) Marinette was quick to agree. Though Jagged had been in a huff until Marinette agreed to let him close out the show.
           The world took notice, albeit mostly because of Jagged and Clara. But Audrey, the Style Queen herself, had raved about how cutting edge it was. She claimed that an underground, exclusive, fashion show was the new big thing in fashion. The clothes were marvelous too. All in all, MDC’s runway was exciting, sophisticated, and fresh, just like her new line.
           Not long after Style Queen’s review posted, the orders had come flying in on her website. Everyone who was anyone seemed to NEED to be seen wearing the MDC brand.
           Marinette had smiled ear to ear for the rest of the weekend. She looked forward to what the future would bring.
           It was a new day.
           Which was great because…
           Marinette was so done with yesterday.
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lilacandladybugs · 3 years
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“[Your God] raised me, demanded my unquestioning devotion to him, told me that my value lay in my obedience, and my future in servitude (x).”
Okay first of all I’m so so sorry that anyone has made you think this is true. I’m so sorry that there have been people who have used the Bible against you and that they’ve used it to control you and abuse you and lie to you and you have every right to be enraged. I just, I just want to explain what I believe about God, because I feel like the way the Bible is used to hurt people is so heretical and cruel that it would be wrong for me to not say anything about who God really is.. Because it also. Like as someone who is a Christian it would be creepy and wrong of me to be worshipping that God and I don’t want you to think that’s true.
The thing about most of these concerns is that they’re about framing. If God is not just, loving, merciful, if God is not trustworthy, if humans don’t have free will, and if our relationship with God is a commandment and not an invitation, then this is 100% true,, like I’m not trusting that God lol 
If we are not allied with the person who is directing our lives then of course it is bitter and controlling and terrible. 
But the thing is that from a Christian worldview, this isn’t how it is. If you have an internally consistent worldview, God is not demanding anything. We were designed to be in a relationship with God. And he isn’t like a /person/ really, he’s God. He was before there was anything, he is unchanging and powerful and knowing and loving. He is the ultimate premise on which all other premises reside, his is the source of logic, knowledge, wisdom, and goodness. Life exists because God exists. Love exists not because God /created/ love, but because love as a concept is a natural result of God existing.
So there isn't an active threat that something bad will happen apart from God. There simply is nothing apart from God. Badness and goodness and pain and pleasure aren’t opposites on a scale so much as one is the absence of the other, like how cold is just the absence of heat.
So when we say that life is miserable and crumbles apart from God, it isn’t an active action God is taking to punish us from running away from him. He isn’t just a person, he’s like the foundation of the Universe and he’s the source of everything good. People are not actively hurt or punished for walking away from God, walking away from God causes us to die because we’re literally cutting ourselves off from the giver of life. 
This metaphor breaks down really quickly, but a flower isn’t being abused by a bush when it falls off and dies. That’s just what happens when flowers get cut off of bushes, apart from their source of life, they wither.
So God does not /demand/ that we obey him. Free will exists within our relationship to the extent that is possible. We are fully capable of walking away from God, and he knew that when he made us. No loving relationship is based in control, so he didn’t control us. He allowed us to do what we want, because that is in his nature. God is loving.
But it isn’t compatible with living, to walk away from our source of life. Like pouring water into a gas tank and then trying to run a car, if we aren’t doing what our bodies and minds were designed to do, we are going to crash and burn. And it isn’t like God created us with the intent of making us die without him, because remember he isn’t a person. There simply isn’t anything without him, so there isn’t any way for us to exist apart from him. The realm of living things simply does not extend beyond God.
Now the difference between obedience, servitude, and relationship is also purely perspective. The difference, again, is free will. If we /choose/ to be in a relationship with God, if we choose to let him be our director, if we trust him, then it is a relationship. I’m not sure if y’all have seen Attack on Titan, but the Scouts relationship with Erwin is technically one of obedience. They obey him even to the point of death, they submit to his command. 
But they love Erwin, they trust him, they respect him, they know that Erwin is going to do what he thinks is best for them and for humanity. They don’t need all the answers because they are so convinced of who Erwin is that they are willing to die for him. They bet their lives on that belief in Erwin’s character.
That is like my relationship with God. I do not do anything I do out of fear or because I was manipulated into doing it, I do everything I do as a result of trust and overwhelming devotion to God. I am willing to do anything he says because I bet my life in by belief in God’s character.
The other thing is that when God is given absolute power over your life, he makes it better. Not that you don't exist or have a will or a personality, but that when you submit fully to God that's the state humans were designed to be in. It makes you more you than you than you have ever been. C.S. Lewis used the analogy of salt. If you taste salt you might think it would overwhelm whatever you put it on but actually it just enhances the flavor. So imagine God is like salt but better because you can't add too much of God and he always makes it better.
Now being created in the image of God will need to be a different post but Obviously humans have value. Hopeful people don’t say that they don’t (although genuinely wouldn’t be surprised if they do D:) Jesus wouldn't have died if humans didn't have value to him. In economics, the value of something is what you are willing to pay for it. When Jesus died, he was proving that the value God places on us is himself. So since God doesn't see us as valueless, we have value (remember God isn’t really a person, he is the ultimate premise and the definer of many inherent truths like logic, love, and morality).
That's also why we can trust him to take care of us, fill us, and use us for good purpose is because he does value us.
So it's not about just letting God do whatever he wants to (although it's kind of true) it's about how God wants to be in a relationship with you where he protects loves and develops you according to his will.
Protection is a human term but idk what else to use because my point is that God's plans for you are better than yours ever could possibly be, even if they involve pain, the end result is blessing that's beyond your wildest imagination, and the invitation is, what are you willing to bet that God will make good on his promise? He won't take more control than you give him but he has promised to use everything you give him to create something wonderful.
So yeah it's ok to only give your pinky and he'd do AMAZING things with just your pinky but imagine if you gave him everything.
The other thing about God is that he isn’t going to pressure you and he /understands/ he made your brain and your body and your personality and all the people around you he understands better than you why things are hard for you. He's not going to walk up and demand you do everything he says, he's  /gentle/ he's the safest person you can have.
It's more like he's training a deer to trust him, you know? He's respectful and he gives you nice treats and gives you resources and teaches you his voice. He's not going to be mad if you're scared of him. He's just excited and encouraging you that he's trustworthy.
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bloodykora · 3 years
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It's spooky season AND almost my bday plus my fav holiday. Which MEANS I am allowed to talk about Corpse Bride all I fucking want.
I know, Tim Burton is racist or whatever but I have loved this movie since my infancy therefore shut up. Also warning, I swear a lot.
I will be going over my favourite things, most of them you've probably heard before but I don't care.
1. The music. I'm talking about the piano songs (like duet and the solo), the addition of the organ. I'm a huge fan of it being added into more gothic films like this one and Phantom (OTO). It can add such a more deep and rich feeling to the song along with more lonesome sounds which itch parts of my brain. I also am very good at hearing a re-occurring theme in the background of movies (like angel of music from phantom, and even hearing anybody have a map+good for you in the DEH movie in that 1 scene) Corpse Bride does it too and I am obsessed with it.
2. The look I'm a depressed bitch which means I have the eyebags and slouch which most characters do not have. You get this more naive and child look from Victoria because of her more round face shape unlike Emily who looks more mature from the sharpness along with her height. I also like the oppositeness of V and V's parents. The super tall with the super short and the skinny with the plump. Victor looks like how he acts, well put together but not given the opportunity to fully express his personality therefore the dull colours and simple design unlike Barkis who has ruffles and puffy sleeves out of his jacket. The old wise skeleton man doesn't look like the others, there are holes beginning to form in his bones from lack of calcium. His head is withering away and he has a slouch when he walks. On the other side of the look. The difference between the "upstairs and downstairs" aka the living and the dead. We are first shown the underworld in a fucking bar, with bright colours. Like what. I know it may seem silly to be this excited about colour but it really shows how we as humans are. We are safe and take precautions, we don't do things in fear of consequence or fear of being outcast. Then as we get older we regret this and when we are on our deathbed we really say everything we wish we had done. The dead now party because they have no fears of dread about what's to come. Which leads into another thing.
3. Their personalities The dead literally have more sense of humour then the living. The captain takes Napoleon's? (i think it's supposed to be him or something) fucking drink OUT OF HIS CORPSE by removing a sword that was in his abdomen. LIKE WHAT. Plus, the dope fucking music they got going. Victor feels more at peace with this crowd cause they don't give a fuck, they're dead and even murdered. When they go upstairs they are peaceful and not demonic like people would assume. They go for a wedding, a wholesome, kind moment. They are allowed to reunite with their family and loved ones which can help so much with closure! The scene is littered with a puke kind of green, settling in the feeling of uneasiness but immediately it turns to the main theme of blue. LIKE AaAAAA. Also, we get one of the funniest lines in the whole movie. "There's an eyeball, in me soup."
4. Butterflies This movie made me fall in love with butterflies, literally was watching Arachnophobia with my bro in law and at the beginning they drug butterflies to look at them. I was watching them fall and out of my mouth slipped "That's a blue morpho." which shocked by BIL. I was hugely embarassed cause I knew it from Corpse Bride thankfully my BIL thought it was cool that I knew it and his respect for went up. I love the theme of butterflies through the movie because of what they represent, and I don't mean Emily. Butterflies normally resemble a big transformation and personal growth along with rebirth, hope and life. Look me in the eyes and tell me you can't connect the fucking dots.
This is where I will leave it for now, but I might make a part 2 cause I love this movie so much. Here are some of my fav lines: "Eyeball in me soup" As previously mentioned. "I spent so long in the darkness, I'd almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is!" "Can a heart still break once it's stop beating?" "Excuse me. You don't know me but I used to live in your dead mother." "Now, why go up there when people are dying to get down here?" "Your hands are too fat, and his neck is too thin. You'll have to use a rope." The vows, I like the vows so much I will have them if I get married. "Did things not go according to your plan, Lord Barkis? Well, perhaps in disappointment we are perfectly matched.” "Who invited these people? They must be from your side of the family.” "I've got a... I've got a dwarf, and I'm not afraid to use him!"
I will get a tattoo of this movie I swear to god.
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dvalshock · 2 years
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Jericho was created by the Abyssal Mother as her “only child,” a resurrected skeletal corpse belonging to an unknown person who died an undetermined amount of years ago that was washed to the watery depths of the sea by the tides where the Mother was sleeping at the seabed. His body is comprised of the skeleton used to give his body structure, and then riddles with snakes, bugs, and vines. To disguise what he looks like, he wears a plague doctor uniform, brimmed hat, black mask, and fisherman’s waders beneath the robe. There is not a gap in his clothing, and he never seems to remove any article of it. He can’t remember the early parts of his reanimated life, and much less anything before being resurrected.
A well regarded doctor in the region, beloved by the town he resides in, given gifts of thank you by the patients whose lives he saved. He does not accept money or request payment before accepting patients, yet because of the community’s want to acknowledge his labor is some sort of fashion, his cabin is riddled in various gifts, and he keeps them all locked up in a designated storeroom. There is, however, one gift that he keeps out in his office to look at. A dried up, withered once-yellow dandelion given to him by a child he saved. Despite it having died quite some time ago, he never throws it out.
His miraculous ability to save the dying from certain death has garnered him quite the reputation, and people are known to travel long distances in the hopes that they can be saved by him. His only failure was his very first patient, an unknown person whose body he buried on the shore with no proper tombstone, only a pile of rocks to denote its placement. In spite of the adoration he receives from his fellow townsfolk, the method he utilizes to save those destined to die weighs heavily on his mind. The organs of their bodies are eaten by the seawater and replaced by the very same that fills Jericho’s body. There is no disease anymore, but their body has been altered in ways unknown to them without their consent.
This entire cause is in service to the Mother, who cannot move from the sea floor and is so deep beneath the water’s surface it is pitch black where she sleeps. A mortal vessel capable of being inhabited by her conscious would allow her explore life above the surface, to understand the humanity she coexists with. But because of her immense presence, finding a suitable vessel to contain even just her consciousness is impossibly difficult and thus requires an innumerable amount of potential hosts. 
As Jericho continues to work and find new patients to operate on, he grows increasingly worn by the guilt he feels over his deception to the town that reveres him. The town that sings his praises of “being able to cure death,” but in reality he takes their life, the life they entrusted him to care for. “Am I really saving lives? Am I really giving back their loved ones?” But he cannot deny the inherent appeal of knowing there are others like him, others with bodies littered with unsightly things. It erases a certain loneliness, and yet it continues to keep him isolated. His former patients have not the slightest inkling of what inhabits their bodies, so is there truly any kind of companionship in it? And the appeal of being loved and cherished by a community he knows would otherwise alienate him should they ever discover what he truly looked like beneath his suit.
It’s an inescapable trap. Wanting to do good by the people and doing so by crossing a blurred line, and knowing deep down that refusing would garner not only their hate and malice, but the Mother too. At the end of it all, the loyalty he feels toward the Mother - his mother - the one who gave him life, the only one who knows who he truly is, is what keeps him going.
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oh-for-fic-sake · 4 years
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The True Knot
Clark catches you christening your new forbidden contraband and decided to give you his full knot as punishment
Masterlist
Chapter One
Warnings: Adult situations +18, Smut, Noncon, Dubcon, Forced knotting, A/B/O
A/n so this is the final part to this i wanted to do a darker clark in this hope you enjoy xxx
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The True Knot
"Ah ah fuck yesyes yes uhg!!" You finally got your fantasy right visualising Clark holding you down pounding you growling and grunting above you he'd praise you whispering dirty lewd thoughts that he dare not say any other time the you groaned feeling yourself climb higher and higher untill 
You yelped out loud lying down on your back legs spread wide knees bent as you ran the vibrating toy across your swollen folds. You let your moans Echo across the empty apartment no care to the neighbors that might hear you to lost in your passion. You'll admit the toy was good but not as good as Clark.... but fuck clark you were pissed off with hth him at the moment.
Things were great blissful even youd spent your first heat with him in a constant frenzy of lips teeth and wandering hands knotting him more times then you could count, afterwards you had spent the following week moving in with him, but then you found the down side to mating. The possessive stubborn side of alphas that everyone talked about, not that it wasn't a turn on it really was but he had decided that you will remain in the den until you knew if you were pregnant or not which could take 8 the 12 weeks! Stuck in here while he could go to work as normal it wasn't fair! Each morning he left you sulked pleading with him to let you go to.
But no he wouldn't allow it, you also missed him pining for him during the day and hated how when he got home you would drag him to your nest of blankets in the corner of your shared bedroom curling up with him lapping up at his attention he wouldn't stay long tho, going out to patrol the city. You understood he was superman but you couldn't help feeling a little put out.
You moaned long and loud as you pushed the rubber toy inside of you rocking back and forth on it your body swallowing it. So how did you get here? You may not be in your heat but all newly mated couples had a honeymoon period, Clark had refused to touch you afraid of hurting any unborn baby you could be carrying... and in a fit of alpha fueled jealousy he had dumped all of your toys when you threatened to use them instead,a bad move on your part. So you had taken matters into your own hands in an act of rebellion you bought yourself another one, a better one and was currently christening it in your small cosey nest.
You'll admit there was also a childish side to it as well you wanted to punish him in a sense for ignoring your needs and what better way to punish an alpha then to get yourself off in your nest without him, letting your scent linger in the bedroom to tease him when he got home. If he wanted to ignore your needs thats fine you didnt need him... tho you did, this toy was good but it wasn't as large as him, the knot wont lock the same way it didnt flex and pulse like him. You sighed irritated but still desperate to prove your point, you persisted dragging and pushing it in and out 
"YEEESSS AAHH FUCK YES YES PLEASE" you cried out your release to the ceiling pushing down as the specialy designed toy inflated at the base wedged between your walls. It wasnt as a tight a fit as with your alpha but it was enough to be held inplace. You panted hard smothing back your hair with both hands
"Well that was quite a show little omega" you froze the growl was deep and dragged across your skin making the hairs stand on end, yelping you began to sit up only for Clark to appear above you he kneeled one leg in the floor the other was resting on just below your chest enough pressure to hold you down. He was in his super suit his muclses taught he peeked between your legs inspecting the way the toy was stuffing you, you blushed going to close them but he laid quick slaps to your still quivering soft thighs growling low in his chest, it rumbled though you leavjng you shaken. He pulled his hands down each pinching your sensitive lips spreading them wider then poked the toy playing with it.
"Where did you get this?" He asked as he wiggled the base of the toy slightly making you gasp bucking up to him. You wet your lips watching him, his jaw was locked and the muscles in his neck twitched his face was blank. But overall he wasnt happy not in the slightest.
"A-alpha I-I please aaahhh~" you moaned as he pushed the toy deeper still not reaching as far as him but it was uncomfortable as he rubbed it against your swollen sensitive clit.
"Mate.. where did you get this?" He stopped looking at the toy locking eyes with you you faltered he looked incredible all wound up and powerfull dominant you gulped unable to stop your quiet .
"I-I bought it online alpha" he tutted shaking his head at you then ripped it from you harshly you screamed as it pulled against your walls. You werent supposed to do that. You cried closing your legs clutching at your pussy tears falling down your cheeks as your pussy cramped tight hot and sore. He watched with a cool gaze as you withered then moved back resting beside you. 
"Clark why did you do that?" You whimpered tears still rolling down bringing your knees to your chest trying to stop the burning sting he had caused. He just lifted the toy then tapped it on your stomach wetting it with your arousal.
"Bad omega, I've told you about these havent I? I find you with one and I will tug it out Every. Single. Time" you just groan as he scolded you he was angry that was clear but he didn't sound quite like himself, then he moved down by your bottom he tucked his arm below you knees pushing them tighter to your chest then prodded your freshly fucked pussy with his fingers.
"So tell me sweet omega, did it satisfy you? Did it fill you like me" you shook your head your were trembling head to toe the pain had ebbed away and was slowly giving in to his fingers light strokes.
"Very naughty of you. To go behind my back like this... dont you think?" He tilted his head at you as he rubbed circles over your opening spreading your slick across you the removed his and brought it back down in a strong spank, you yelped as he struck you again and again leaving a hot sting across your lips.
"NO! Nonono please stop I'm sorry" he struck you once more then slid his finger to your front running small light flick on your clit then rubbed the full length of your slit you bucked mewling  slowly as he continued teasing and pinching you. He removed himself from you returning seconds later pushing you onto your back you felt his warm skin pressing against your legs as he shifted you then settled above you his knees tucked up into your armpits he moved forward   holding his hard cock to your lips one hand fisted in your hair
"So desperate for me are you? lets see if you how much you can really handle shall we? should i force you to take me fully?" you whimpered as he ran the crown of his cock across your lips you slowly stuck out your tongue unable to stop yourself from tasting him he chuckled as you began giving him small delicate kitten licks each time he ran across them. You grunted as your hot tongue licked tiny strips on his slit.
"You want it? you want to be my good little bitch?" you nodded a quick tight nod under his hand
"OH Fuck yes good girl" he moaned lost in his own pleasure then began pulling back and thrusting again then began face fucking you. You laid there taking it clenching your walls and rubbing your thighs together as you seeped onto the floor below. Somehow this almost angry fucking was turning you to mush, he groaned loud removing himself from your throat. Quickly repositioned you in front of him bent over spanking you heating your cheeks before pushing his fingers into you running circles on your swollen abused walls you cried in pleasure as your nerves were set ablaze making all of your muscles convulse, abdomen flexing and pussy trying to hold his fingers still he pounded you quickly a fierce rhythm knocking the air out of you with each hard push curling his fingers hooking into your g spot trying to anchor you with it. You panted trying to keep your breath as he fucked it out of you with his fingers your body shivered with each stroke of his fingers.
"Then fight for it" he said dragging your head just out of reach as you tried to suckle on him mouth open stretching your tongue to reach him ,your pussy ceased at the lustful look he gave you as you pulled forward your scalp protesting as you pulled forward with all your might trying to suck him down needing to please him. He teased you bringing you forward allowing you to touch him then pulling back before repeating slowly going deeper and deeper. You became worried as he didn't stop like he usually did you moved your hands to his hips trying to push him away as he pushed past the back of your throat making you gag and then some digging your short nails into his skin.
He let his head fall back groaning as he pulled you tight to him choking you, quickly you tried to relax your throat as he pulled you closer and closer until your nose was brushed against his pubic bone nestled in the thatch of hair breathing in his scent you whined clawing his thigh as he held you still balls pressed to your chin as you choked on him.
"No ohmygod! nonono alpha I can't-please stop its to much I-FUCK!" you scrambled trying to claw your way out from under him, he caged you his hand by your head using his forearm to hold you still by your shoulder.
"Are you ready omega? I'm not pulling back your getting everything" he growled out you mewled out a small no pleading him not to make you take him it would seem he wasn't playing around grunting and growling he pushed and pulled you against him using you for his own pleasure chasing his own end.
"You don't have a choice....Take it!!...This is what you wanted and you'll take everything I want to give until I say" he grunted moving down putting his weight on your back as you withered and shook trying to arch away from him but to no avail. You keened feeling yourself cum all over him crying and grinding on him but he didn't stop, licking at the sweat on your back kissing and biting around your shoulders he plowed you into a second orgasm punishing you as he still continued drawing out moans and pleas as you wriggled desperate for a break you collapsed mewling shivering from the barrage of sensations giving in as you released over his hand for a third time wailing as you did hoarse.
He slowed removing his fingers then lined himself up to you not wasting any time he thrust in with one deep powerful stroke wedging his head into your cervix painfully. You yelped and doubled your efforts to get away but he laughed leaning back on his feet dragging your hips up his thighs rocking into your rolling his hips enjoying your walls coiling around his shaft. You panicked as you felt him pressing against your cervix you could feel throbbing as he began rocking. Through the pain you cried out in ecstasy you clamped around him, hot and needy you gyrated into him rubbing your tender folds against him then he moved thrusting deep and quick you pulled at your nest as he became faster and rougher with each thrust.
"Yes FUCK Yes good girl doing so well... Soo well FUCK. Here.We.Go UGH!." he pulled you tight as his knot grew you whimpered as he held you much firmer this time bruising your hips forcing his whole knot into you. 
"OW NO ALPHA ITS TO MUCH-FUCK PLEASE" you tucked your head below you as your arms gave out under you unlike in your heat where he had let the base of his knot rest outside this time he had stuffed the whole thing in.
"No I told you .Everything. FUCK!" You cringed as he gave one final push forcing his head to slide into your cervix opening as his knot popped inside, your muscles protested as they closed tight behind it trapping him properly. It felt like the size of a tennis ball. He grunted feeling your true opening almost strangle his cock. You whimpered as he pulled your back flush to his heaving chest you were shaking and in shock as your body protested to his punishing penetration. You heard him groan low as the first spray of cum filled you much higher than it ever had before.
"OH OH GOD.. yes...good girl, you did it  ,you took your punishment so well I'm so proud of you love." as he praised you he rubbed your lower tummy then pressed as you protested, he could feel his cock as it twitched slowly stretching you with his constant stream flooding you. You groaned wincing as you felt impossibly warm as his hot seed coated your insides, your pussy twitched sore and taught around his intrusion trying to push it out but had no hope. He kissed your mating mark as you whined still twitching, he was massaging you in the most intimate of ways with every shuddering breath you took sending sparks across your body. He placed an arm around your waist locking you against his chest and stood up.
"AH.AH nononono Clark stop it hurts please stop moving!" he ignored you making his way slowly and carefully to the bathroom stopping in front of the full length mirror.
"Look, look at yourself omega... look at what I've done to you." you did casting a look to yourself your skin flushed pink sweat glistening, your hair stuck to your face then you saw, thighs drenched with your own cum lips spread out over the huge knot your erect red clit poking out obscenely you. Whimpered the sight made you clench again trying in vain to push him out, it almost looked as painful as it felt. He hushed you as you weeped quietly as the pleasure and pain battled one another, the sting was sharp but his knot was pressing against your g spot throbbing against it making you tremble as there was no relief or escape from it.
"That toy couldn't do this to you....Fuck you so throughly fill you... I can and will I'm sorry I've been neglecting you but that was no excuse to disobey me..... this is mine." he lowered a hand and pinched your clit making you squeal wanting to buck into him yet stay still to avoid pulling on him any movement pressed harder against your spot making moans bubble from you as your mouth hung open lewd sound pouring from you.
"Are you doing ok love? I haven't harmed you have I?" he said slowly he sounded more him self now not aggressive he was worried regret washed over him. You kissed his thigh by your head feeling him start to shrink inside of you slowly.
"MY pussy and mine alone nothing goes up here except me.... understand? and if it does I will know and I will force you to take me all of me.... it that understood?" he spoke quietly into your neck licking and kissing running his teeth and tongue over your mark. Then began rubbing your clit fast then slow you cringed as you clamped on his knot making him moan loud into your ear you kicked out as he pushed you into one final bone shaking orgasm around him grunting thrusting up into you slightly as it triggered another stream of cum from him. You went lax he laughed lightly then went back into the bedroom laying on the bed arms crossed behind his head as you sat one knee either side on his hips.
You blinked as painful as it was you couldn't deny it had been the best sex you'd ever had the swell of happiness you had got what you wanted even if he was rough with you it had been exhilarating having him lose his cool and use you. You shivered then hissed leaning down onto your elbows on the mattress he brought a hand to your bottom rubbing it slowly.
"No you didn't harm me..... i'm a bit sore but I did ask for it" you replied to him he sighed in relief 
"Yes you did.... you shouldn't test me like that I could accidentally hurt you."
"I trust you... I'm sorry I was being a brat..." he rubbed your hips smoothing over the marks that were beginning to form 
"I love you Clark" he patted you lightly then pulled a little there was a small tug of pain then he slipped free remarkably nothing slipped free as he pulled you up the bed laying in his arms you nuzzled his chest he kissed your head.
"I love you to..... but i mean it no more toys" you looked up sheepish fluttering your eyes at him
"Cant I keep just this one? please?" you begged he frowned at you then looked over at your nest spotting the offending rubber on the floor. You gasped as he lazered it melting the damn thing from the bed then looked back to you as his eyes returned to there incredible blue
"Does that answer your question?" you pouted at him 
"That was expensive! what am I supposed to do when your not here?"
"Suffer and wait for me to come home" he said without missing a beat you sulked but kept quiet snuggling into his chest kissing it as he pulled a cover over the both of you drifting into and exhausted sleep.
Taglist @havenoffandoms
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prettyricky187 · 4 years
Text
Sometimes You Don’t Feel Like A Winner
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A/N: I was listening to Prom Queen by Catie Turner and it inspired this piece. I highly recommend listening to it while you read, at least for the first half. 
Couple: Spencer X Fem!Reader
Category: Angst/Fluff
Content Warnings: Self deprecating thoughts
Word Count: 4K
MASTERLIST
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“Thank God we had Morgan there, otherwise we’d probably still be stuck in the elevator.” It was such an offhand comment from Penelope, said in a joking manner and alluding to earlier when her, Derek, and Spencer found themselves trapped in the elevator. Derek had to pry the doors open to get the emergency system to kick in. 
Spencer knew she didn’t mean any offense by it, but he couldn’t stop replaying it in his head. He didn’t like how it implied that he wouldn’t have been able to get the job done. His thoughts spiraled down a rabbit hole, wondering about all the other times someone thought he wouldn’t be able to do something for one reason or another, but never said anything out loud.
He thought about the various comments from his team members over the years about his physical ineptitude. He was well aware of the fact that the only reason he was in the FBI was due to his brain, having to get waivers for all of the physical aspects of the academy. Even then he had heard the comments from fellow recruits. He always tried not to let them affect him, but he could only take so much. 
He and Derek were paired up a lot, and it didn’t take much to see the glaring differences between the two of them. Whenever they walked into a room or to a crime scene, people noticed Derek, whereas no one ever noticed him. Derek was smooth, muscular, active, and very much a kick down the door first and ask questions later type of guy, whereas Spencer just…wasn’t. He could barely talk to a woman without feeling like he was going to throw up, he didn’t think his noodle arms counted as muscle, and he much preferred to stay behind at the station whenever it came time to arrest an unsub. He wasn’t even like Hotch, with his tailored suits, matching socks, designer accessories, and stoic face that could wither a concrete wall. 
Did people want him to kick down doors? Wear matching socks? Get a Rolex? What did he have to do in order to stop the comments? 
If being more like Hotch and Morgan was what he needed to do to be taken seriously, then he would do it. 
The following morning Spencer grabbed the tailored ensemble that was a birthday gift from Rossi before hunting down a pair of matching socks. It wasn’t easy, and he felt weird putting them on, but he had to try. He pulled out his designer satchel and moved over his important papers. 
“You look like I do when I have to switch purses for a night out.” His girlfriend’s voice sounded off behind him. He looked over his shoulder to see her leaning against the door frame with a light smile on her face. One look at him and she got an inquisitive look, almost as if she was profiling him. 
“Is something wrong with your bag?” 
“No, I just felt like a change.” 
The noise she made gave away that she knew there was more to his actions, but she didn’t push it. “Do you think you’ll be home tonight?”
“I think so. Unless an urgent case comes up. I’ll let you know, okay?” She nodded as she watched him flit around the room in a manner that was very un-Spencer like. 
“Alright. Have a good day.” He smiled at her words, the first glimpse of her true boyfriend of the day. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” He gave her a kiss and was out the door, leaving behind a very confused (y/n). 
--- “Woah there pretty boy. Your socks match today.” Morgan commented, coming up behind Spencer in the kitchenette. When he first walked into the bullpen, he had been surprised to see the matching plain black socks as Spencer bent down to grab a file from the bottom drawer.
“Yeah, what of it?” Logically Spencer knew Morgan didn’t mean anything about his comment, but Penelope’s words were still swirling around in his head, so his response was more hostile than he intended. 
“I’m just not used to seeing it.” Morgan said slowly after a moment of silence, no doubt trying to profile the resident genius to figure out the cause of his attitude. “I thought you said it was bad luck?” He rose his eyebrows in questioning.
“I’m trying something new.” 
While it was apparent there was something bothering Spencer, Morgan knew better than to press him. He’d talk to him when he was ready. “Alright.” 
Everything that could have gone wrong went wrong and Spencer was over the whole day. He almost missed the morning train, he’d spilled coffee on his shirt, his shoelaces came undone and he almost faceplanted in the lobby. He realized around lunchtime that he’d forgotten his lunch at home, and when he was finally on his way home, he turned a corner right into a woman carrying a bag of groceries that ended up all over the sidewalk. Really, he just wanted to crawl under the covers and for the day to be over. 
He heaved a huge sigh of relief once he was safely inside his dark apartment. Everything was familiar and comfortable; nothing could hurt him in his own sanctuary, except maybe his own thoughts. Taking a deep breath, he dropped his bag and made his way towards the kitchen for some food before going to bed. 
Entering the bedroom and eyeing his sleeping girlfriend, Spencer felt a wave of insecure sadness flow through him so strong it almost knocked him over. She trusted him to protect her, and he knew he would fail if push came to shove. How could she possibly love him and want to be with him if he couldn’t even do the most basic thing for her?
Shaking his head sadly and trying not to cry, Spencer disrobed quietly and made his way to the bathroom in hopes that he could wash his terrible day down the drain. 
After his shower, he stood naked in front of the mirror and analyzed the reflection staring back at him. Never before had he really taken the time to look at himself beyond a quick pass to make sure his hair was tame and his tie wasn’t crooked. 
He didn’t like what he saw. 
“Jesus.” He muttered, pinching at his skin in various places. His limbs were disproportionately long, his sunken eyes created the appearance of two permanent black eyes, and he didn’t have a tan nor much body hair. Based on his research, backed by conversations overheard from JJ and Emily, body hair was something women found manly and attractive. He felt beyond inadequate. Mostly though, he looked at his arms and stomach and noted that neither had copious amounts of muscle on them.
He was an FBI agent for crying out loud, he should have some muscles. He shouldn’t have to rely on someone else to help him kick a door down or get out of an elevator. Frankly, he had never felt more pathetic than in that moment. At best, he felt like a professor; at worst he felt like a string bean with a gun. 
How was he to be trusted to protect his loved ones if he couldn’t even pass the FBI fitness test? Would he be able to protect his girlfriend if someone broke into their apartment? Would he always have to rely on someone else to keep him safe in the field? He was so absorbed in his self-deprecating thoughts that he didn’t notice the tired figure creeping up behind him.  
“Are you okay?” The startled yelp he let out was high pitched and he found himself comparing it to a more manly sound Morgan or Hotch would have let out. 
‘Great, I don’t even have manly scared sounds.’ He thought bitterly before locking his gaze on hers through the mirror. 
“I had a bad day.”
“I guessed that.” She nodded rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 
He felt bad waking her up, but he did feel better having her there. “How?” He really had tried to be quiet when he got home so he didn’t wake her up. “It could have to do with the fact that there are matching socks balled up next to the hamper.” The smile she gave him was playful, fully expecting a witty or snarky comeback. Instead, all she got was a sigh as his head dropped and his shoulders sagged. 
She frowned and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face against the skin of his back; the feeling of safety and home filling her veins. 
Spencer sighed again and grabbed onto her arms, anchoring himself to her and the moment. 
“What’s going on?” 
“Do you think I’m weak?” 
Whatever she had been expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. Her frown returned and she instinctively tightened her grip on him as if to shield him from his negative thoughts. “What?” 
He nodded, doubling down on his doubts. “Yeah, like…do you wish I had more muscles?” His eyes fell to his body, all his negative thoughts from before returning at once. “Do you think I’m too skinny?” 
“No. Too skinny for what?” She questioned, but he only shrugged. 
“When you look at me, do you think ‘federal agent?’ Am I too weak to be in the BAU?” He asked. She merely shook her head. He sighed, “Should I look more like Derek?” 
In all their years of dating, (y/n) had never heard a more ludicrous statement come from his mouth. Much less while comparing himself to Derek Morgan. She stepped in front of him and hoisted herself on the counter so that she was eye level with him. Locking her legs behind his, she pulled him flush against her, sensing how much he needed physical and emotional reassurance. 
“Spencer Reid, what on earth are you talking about?” 
Spencer tried not to let his heart race at the thought of her being disappointed in him for any reason. He never wanted to disappoint her; he just wasn’t sure he was fully capable of protecting her. He didn’t like the idea of her being hurt in any way, especially knowing he could’ve prevented it – if only he was stronger or ran faster.  
“Do you have things that you would change about me?” 
(Y/n) drew her head back as if she’d been burned by his words. The thought of changing anything about him was simply absurd. “Absolutely not!” Her tone was adamant, and it was clear that she meant every single bit of it; she loved him for exactly who he was.
“What about my quirks? Do you think they’re weird?” 
“What quirks?”
“I don’t wear matching socks.” He pointed out and she shrugged. 
“So?”
“Do you wish that I did?”
“You tried it today and your day sucked.” 
“You don’t have to remind me.” 
“Clearly, you’re not meant to wear them, and matching socks are overrated. Embrace it.” 
He merely pouted and shrugged. “But it’s weird.” 
She knew she wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise at the moment, so she shifted topics. “Alright, what else?”
“What else what?”
“Whatever it is that has you feeling this way.” 
Spencer was quiet as he pondered saying what was bothering him; he wanted to be completely honest for both her sake and his own. 
“My hair.” 
She raked her eyes over his wet hair hanging haphazardly and sticking up or out in some parts, clearly in disarray from his quick towel drying. 
“What about it?” 
“It’s always messy.” 
“Probably doesn’t help that I love running my fingers through it. Even when you do comb it, I just make a mess of it again. I’ll gladly take partial responsibility for that.” 
“What about the fact that I ramble.” 
She shrugged as she absentmindedly stroked his hip. “I enjoy it.” She wasn’t just trying to make him feel better, she really did enjoy listening to him endlessly talk. She’d never admit it, but sometimes she purposely made him flustered just so he would start rambling like he does whenever he’s nervous. 
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.” He frowned, but (y/n) shook her head.
“I’m saying it because it’s how I feel. When have I ever lied to you, even if it was only to spare your feelings?” 
He immediately thought back to when they first began dating and he had gone on an excited rant about the new season of Doctor Who. He could tell she was trying to follow along and nodding like she knew what he was talking about, but she hadn’t understood. He remembered Derek telling him how girls sometimes lie to guys on a date so that they seem interesting. He asked her thoughts on the show and she told him that she’d honestly never seen an episode and had absolutely no idea what he was talking about, but she was excited simply because he was excited. 
“Never.” 
“Alright then. So, believe me when I say that I do not mind your info-drops.” 
“What about all the other things I should have accomplished by now, but haven’t?” 
“Like what?”
“Having a family.” 
“Is that something you want?” The topic of children had come up, but always in a ‘someday’ capacity. She didn’t even know he was actively thinking about starting a family.
“Derek has Savannah and Hank and Hotch has Jack. I mean, I have you, but we’re not married, nor do we have any kids so it’s like…are we a societal failure?” 
“I’m going to pretend not to take offense to that.” 
He squirmed as she lightly pinched at his outer thigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it how it sounded.” He sighed sadly, not liking how his words weren’t coming out as he intended. “I just…”
“Not every couple has children or gets married, Spencer. Marriage or children doesn’t validate a relationship.” 
“Did you know that humans 75 million years ago mostly lived in isolation and only came together to mate? In 2013, a study came out that said that monogamy only came to be so that men could protect their infants and lower the risk of infanticide from competing males.” 
“Okay…” She wasn’t exactly sure where he was going with that information; she didn’t have an IQ of 187 so he needed to explain it for her.
“It means that the sole point of monogamy is children.” He exclaimed. 
“Well, first of all we’re not giant pandas who only come out of some hiding to get it on with each other. Secondly, we are not living in the Flintstone era where a man kills another man’s child simply to procreate with the mother and ensure his lineage. And finally, the one I take the most issue with, couples do not need to have children to be valid. There are plenty of childless couples who are perfectly happy with just the two of them. If that’s what our situation turns out to be, then that’s what it is. We aren’t failures as people or as a couple.” She explained. 
“You’d be a cute giant panda, though.” Spencer muttered after a moment. 
(Y/n) laughed and nodded in agreement. “So, would you.” 
“You know,” Spencer said suddenly, “I always thought I’d be in academia when I was a kid. I never pictured myself in the FBI.” 
While the idea of Spencer as a teacher or researcher wasn’t preposterous, his words still surprised her. She wondered if he’d still be happy in that role. 
“Really?” 
“Do I really scream law enforcement material to you?” He rose an eyebrow as if to say ‘really’ and she held her hands up to concede.
“Well I’ve only ever known you in the BAU, which is part of the FBI, which is considered law enforcement. So, to me, yes.” 
“I also thought I would have cured schizophrenia by now. Or at least been really close to a cure.” He said, “I feel like such a failure because I haven’t even gotten started on it.”
“Well, you’ve been busy saving the world in other ways.” She pointed out. 
“What if it’s not enough?” 
“Schizophrenia has been around for like…forever. It’s not solely your job to cure it; I don’t think anyone expects you to. It’s just you.”
“Actually, it’s only been around for 208 years. In 1809 both English physician John Haslam and French physician Phillippe Pinel wrote about English tea broker James Tilly Matthews. He is largely considered the first case of paranoid schizophrenia; except there wasn’t a term for it at the time. It wasn’t until the late 19th century that the term dementia praecox was used to describe someone who we now refer to as schizophrenic. There’s been some debate over who first used the term, some say Emil Kraepelin in 1896 while others say it was Arnold Pick in 1891. It wasn’t until Eugene Bleuler coined the term schizophrenia in 1908 because he believed that it wasn’t a dementia at all, but merely a separation of function between personality, thinking, memory, and perception.” 
Maybe someone else would’ve been stunned or turned off by the correction and lengthy explanation, but (y/n) listened happily as he laid out the history of schizophrenia, all while looking at him like he hung the stars and the moon in the sky. She knew it was a touchy subject for him, between his mother, being scared of presenting signs when he turned 30, and genetics he might pass down to any children, so they didn’t talk much about it. 
‘You realize you’re putting 200-”
“208.” Spencer quietly corrected and she smiled to herself. 
God, she loved him. 
“208 years of mental illness solely on your shoulders.” She finished. “You’re one man who can’t be expected to solve all the world’s problems. You have a genius brain, but you’re still human like the rest of us average folk. As much as it may pain you to hear, you can’t do everything.”
“I know that.” He protested, but sometimes she wasn’t so sure. She knew he forgot to take care of himself when he got too into his head, but she wouldn’t dwell on that at the moment. “I just, I wonder if I’m on the wrong track. You know?”
“I do. I think most people wonder that at various times in their life. Second guessing yourself is common, and while it can be worrying, it’s something we all can get through.”
“I never second guess myself. I’m always sure in what decisions I make.”
“Hate to break it to you bud, you’re currently doing exactly that, hence your tailspin.” 
He cracked a small smile at her words, but ultimately sighed. 
She noticed that he still looked off, like he had more that was bothering him. She knew it all wasn’t going to get solved with this bathroom talk, but she didn’t want him to go to sleep with these worries on his mind. “What else are you thinking about?” 
Spencer shook his head and shrugged his shoulders, resigned to the fact that he was just going to feel shitty about things for a while. “It doesn’t matter. It’s stupid anyways.” 
(Y/n) refused to accept that answer. “It’s not stupid. It matters to you, so I want to hear about it.” She said softly, playing with his fingers. 
“How am I supposed to keep you safe if I can’t even kick down a door?” His voice sounded so soft and scared. She wanted to wrap a blanket around him and lay underneath; shielding him from the world. 
“Who said I needed you to keep me safe?”
“It’s my job. That is literally in my job description, keep the public safe. You are part of that public.” He countered.
“How does being able to kick down a door correlate to keeping someone safe? Are you going to kick the intruder down?” The mental image was amusing to her, but she knew better than to laugh. 
“Did you know that yesterday I was stuck in an elevator with Garcia and Derek?” He began, bringing her attention back to the subject at hand. “He had to pry the doors open enough to trigger the emergency system so that help could arrive. You know what she said after it was all said and done? ‘Thank God we had Morgan there, otherwise we’d probably still be stuck in the elevator.’ Like, I would have been completely useless had he not been there. It did not make me feel good at all.” He said. While things regarding his mood seemed to click into place for her, (y/n) had so many questions. Where were their cell phones? How was Derek even able to pry open the doors? Did they hit the emergency stop button? 
All those things ran through her mind, but mostly she felt like she wanted to shake Penelope for her comment. She doubted there was any malicious intent behind it, and she knew Spencer knew that, too, but it clearly hurt his feelings and struck a sensitive nerve inside him. 
“It’s alright though,” he said cutting her thoughts short, “it doesn’t really matter.”
“What doesn’t?”
“Being liked. Who says we have to be liked? Why should I care if people like me? It’s all overrated.” Maybe if he said the words out loud he might believe them, but even she didn’t look convinced.
“Except that it isn’t and really, we all care. It’s part of human nature, you of all people should know this.” She said eyeing him.
When he didn’t say anything, (y/n) decided she wasn’t going to let him spiral into his self-deprecating thoughts any longer.
“Alright Spencer, listen to me.” (Y/n) sat up straight so he could see how serious her next statement was going to be. “I love you with my entire heart. That being said, I don’t need a knight in shining armor to swoop in and save me. So, you didn’t go into education, you still can if you want to. But you don’t have to just because you thought you would as a kid. Who cares if Derek and Hotch have children and you don’t? You’re not Derek Morgan or Aaron Hotchner. You’ve had an entirely different life and set of circumstances than they have. They couldn’t do half the things you can, and that’s okay. Who cares if you don’t wear matching socks or that Hotch probably wears a tailored suit to work every day?” 
“He does.” Spencer interrupted, but one look from (y/n) had him mumbling an apology. 
“The whole point is, you all have your own strengths, weaknesses, and something unique that you bring to the table. Your strength just happens to be in your brain, not your body. It doesn’t matter that you can’t kick down a door because you know they always say to work smarter not harder. Let Derek do the hard work and you do the smart work. There’s nothing wrong with that.” 
A beat of silence passed between them before Spencer smiled and let out a few hearty laughs. (Y/n) might’ve been put off by that at any other time, but she was just happy that he wasn’t frowning anymore. 
“You are…not great at making me feel better. But you tried, and I love you for it.” His smile then was the first genuine one of the day. 
Try as she might, motivational speeches were not her forte, but there was something endearing about how bad she was at it. 
“You’re just being a grump right now, so no matter what I say is going to make you feel better. When it’s all said and done, at the end of the day I love you, Spencer, for exactly who you are. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you. Even the things you might want to change about yourself.” 
Even when he didn’t feel like the shining star that she thought he was, she was there for him and would support and love him. 
“Thank you. I appreciate knowing that I always have you in my corner.” He smiled down on her and gave her a pert kiss on the nose, making them both smile. 
“You always will.” She agreed, mirroring his kiss. “Do you feel better?” 
“I do. You’ll never be a motivational speaker, but you did make me feel better.” He nods with a laugh. 
“I gave it a valiant effort. You want to go to bed?” She tilted her head in question. She knew her shortcomings and made no qualms about them. She knew Spencer loved her for who she was, just as she loved him for who he was. That was part of what made them so great together, at least in her mind. 
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utterlyhopeful-fics · 4 years
Text
Tease (Angel Reyes)
A/N: SOAK ME IN HOLY WATER Y’ALL. This is pure smutty smut. Enjoy! As always, feedback is gold! 
MASTERLIST
Angel Reyes x Reader
Word Count: 1900k
Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, language, mention of choking, public sex?
Inspired by this beautiful picture...
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“Baby, what the hell? You hidin something from me?”
To her surprise, Angel’s piercing stare left Y/N flustered, wordless, and oh so horny. His usual sexy smirk was currently replaced with adorable puppy dog confusion. Y/N could no longer contain the laughter cascading down her windpipes. Eagerness oozed out of her pores; Y/N deviously smiled at the handsome man before her.
The thumping between her legs pulsed causing her skin to overheat. Her panties began to moisten against the barely present material hugging her plumped lips. She bit her bottom lip in hopes of containing the rampage of dirty thoughts scouring every part of her overly excited body. God, if only he’d bend her over…take what she so willingly gave to him.
“Ah ah ah, I don’t give away secrets that easily Mr. Reyes. You’re gonna have to sweeten the pot. Dare I say…tempt me?”
It was in this precise moment Angel knew he was done for, merely at the mercy of his beautiful girlfriend. He scooted closer pushing her backwards into his cushioned bike seat. They were out in the open, completely exposed to their surroundings for anyone to stumble upon. It only exhilarated the energy circulating throughout the air. Y/N faintly stumbled losing her balance momentarily before meeting the hazelnut eyes above. His hands magically found perch against her curvaceous hips leaving not a hint of space. Her breath halted, her heart stammered passionately, but she refused to give into him…not yet.
“So, you’re going to try to seduce the answer out of my Reyes? Really confident in yourself, huh?’
“Oh, querida. You have no fucking idea.”  
Angel was soon growing fully aware of the effects within his range of capabilities knowing just how to set her ablaze with a simple touch, a press of a button. His nose edged along the column of her neck leaving small traces behind. She smelt of lavender and lilacs, so much so that his cock stiffened against his boxers. Y/N hummed in pleasure willing herself to remain strong.
In a minutely exasperated tone Y/N whispered; I know exactly what you’re doing. And it’s making me wet. Ya wanna feel?”
Angel’s hips thrusted into hers as her hands balanced on the motorcycle behind her, steadying the woman. A soft moan escaped trifling through the air as Angel continued his tortuous nibbles. His tongue was warm, smooth, and Y/N couldn’t help herself from imagining it elsewhere.
Angel’s patience began to wear thin growling softly; “Now, what is it you’re hiding? Or do I need to punish you?”
This time Y/N pushed back lifting herself and sitting down firmly onto Angel’s bike. Her toned legs wrapped around his hips luring him even closer digging her heels into the peak of his ass. She was determined Angel would be eating out of the palm of her hand before night’s end. Her dilated pupils gazed upwards meeting his reflection. If looks could speak volumes, Angel Reyes was drowning in lust.
“Oooh, you giving me a choice? Because if so, I’d go with the choke kink.” Y/n winked egging him on further; “Fuck, I love when you take control, to feel your fingers wind around my throat. Tell me, do you like me soakingly drenched submitting to your every whim?”
She was on the cusp of getting him to fuck her triggering her lower belly to enjoyably tighten, pleasure aching through her core. Her honeyed scent engulfed his flared nostrils, his hands locked determinedly in her bronzed curls, and her pouty lips awaiting his touch, his command. Y/N reached for his free hand pulling it close to her salivating mouth sucking his middle finger voraciously. Erotic moans met his ears as Y/N sucked harder before releasing him with a salacious pop.
“You turned on, baby?” Y/N’s words barely echoed into the shell of his ear like he was submerged underwater. His head lightly spun wanting nothing more than to slide into home base and hear her scream his name.
Once again, Angel grazed against her pelvis squeezing her to his powerful chest; “Looks like someone’s happy to see me?”
Y/N cupped him forcing his eyes to roll into the back of his head. Angel wasn’t sure how much more teasing he could withstand and Y/N knew exactly what she was doing.
Finally, he closed the little distance between them locking their lips as one. He moaned loudly; “Fuck, you feel that? It’s all for you…only for you.” Angel’s mouth planted against her devouring the words on the tip of her very skilled tongue.
“Mmm, has anyone told you how delicious you taste?”
“Most definitely but usually its another very sweet part of me you know exceedingly well.”
Her grin was enough to bring forth his tumultuous end, to cause all relevant thought to be banished, and take her on the goddamn spot.
Y/N’s hands guided straight for Angel’s thick belt, the clink of metal alerting him of her wandering hands.
“Still wanna know your surprise?” Angel sighed contemplating his options slowly losing his grasp on reality. Pulling back slightly from her embrace, Angel connected with her brilliant cerulean orbs; “You’re getting off on this, aren’t ya? Someone likes having the ball in her court.”
Y/N nodded in agreeance; “You bet that fine ass of yours I do. I can’t tell you how fucking sexy it is to see my Mayan all hot and bothered.”
With her hands secured around his buckle and his stare still penetrating hers, she slowly unhooked his clip pulling the excess material off the remaining belt loops clanging it noisily against the gray, cement floor.
“You wanna do this out in the open? Anyone could drive by and see us?”
“Angel, I will say this once and only once, but take your damn pants off and fuck me, NOW.”
Suddenly, Angel was a man of minimal restraint especially when pushed to his very last limit. His pants fell around his ankles alongside his now moistened boxers.
“Don’t have to ask me twice.”
Y/N loosened her stance allowing Angel’s hands to ghost up her thighs. Goosebumps erupted violently along every crevice of skin as she breathed heavily in anticipation. Angel slipped his strong hands underneath her ass lifting her thong in the process. Y/N silently thanked God for the design of skirts and their functionality. Sitting her down smoothly, he pulled her underwear down her calves before they fell to the ground.
“I’m not goin take it easy on ya, hun. I’m going to fuck you hard until you see shooting stars. Ya hear me?’
Y/N nipped at his shoulder; “Prove it then.”
Angel’s insides roared wanting to dominate the addictive woman he so greedily loved. In the blink of an eye, Y/N clasped his cock pumping him getting harder with every stroke as he watched her hard at work. She was his muse, his angel, his everything. Unexpectedly, Y/N stopped hopping off of the seat. Angel was paralyzed wondering what the hell went wrong before she eyed him conspicuously hiking up her skirt above her hips and jumping back up. She spread wide for him allowing for her pussy to glimmer in the street lights above. Her hand slid down her torso inching closer to her untouched pussy as her eyes begged for him. Y/N inserted a finger producing a squelch of her inner labia.
So, he watched her get lost within herself guiding his hands towards his shaft.
“Fuck, baby. You’re so damn stunning like this. Keep goin.”
Y/N inserted a second finger deepening her reach as her legs moved farther apart.
Angel stalked closer to Y/N stepping in between her defined quadriceps. “I wanna be inside you. Please, querida?” Y/N nonchalantly smiled, whether it be their first time or their thousandth Angel always sought her permission and it drove her absolutely wild.
“Yes, yes please Angel. Fuck me.”
It was then that Angel fondled himself again rubbing up against her slick folds.
“Damn, you are dripping…”
Y/N glanced downwards extending her hand towards his cock before ravenously touching his tip to her clitoris repeatedly pushing her closer to orgasmic bliss. Her thighs clenched; her heart skyrocketed causing her to wither underneath him.
“Godamnit, you’re driving me crazy, woman!”
Y/N panted; “Good.”
Just then, Angel slipped into her warmth pausing for a second to catch the breath lodged within his confined chest. He continued until he was buried to the hilt as her walls hugged him fiercely. It was like the first time every time with Y/N knocking him off his feet. Angel was fully seated within Y/N as her walls hugged him pulling him deeper inside. He pulled out locking eyes with Y/N before plunging into her. Y/N lost her breath as his thrusts picked up in speed. His hand traveled towards her slender throat giving a minor squeeze.
His thumb collided with her clit forcing her walls to clench around his cock. She was a woman possessed, purring and moaning as Angel watched himself glide in and out of her radiant heat. Her hands rested on the back of his seat allowing her to meet him thrust for thrust. Angel’s bike rattled but didn’t loose its steady grip as he continued to plow harder into her.
“Ah, fuck, right there. Harder Angel, plllease.”
Angel couldn’t deny her when she begged, it only spurred him on as he fucked into her like there was no tomorrow. Luckily, not a single car had driven by the abandoned lot as his stomach began to spasm. He brought his forehead to hers allowing for deeper penetration.
“Y/N, you’re so fucking tight. Come with me.”  Her neck bobbed unwilling to break eye contact with him knowing what was to come. She grabbed at his ass bringing him unfathomable close as her muscles tightened. Her eyes shut watching the array of colors swirl beneath her lids, again his finger connected with her clit sending fireworks up her spine to the base of her skull.
“I’m cumming A, I’m about to cu—mm”
Her body violently shook as her orgasm gripped her. Angel tensed beneath as he reveled in his final thrust. Hot spurts shot into her trembling pussy as she drew him to his breaking point. She spasmed around him milking him for all his worth, her pussy quivered in obedience. Both their breaths ran ragged as they attempted to calm themselves. Angel stayed dormant unwilling to pull out.
“Still wanna know your surprise big bad biker boy?”
Angel panted in response unsure; “You sly devil. Fuck me stupid then reveal your master plan?”
Y/N chuckled at his absurdity; “…Maybe.”
“Well considering I’m still balls deep, do tell.”
Y/N shimmed her hips initiating Angel’s grunts; “I got offered a position as General Chief of Surgery at Santo Padre Mercy today. I’m staying, baby.”
Angel beamed with pride knowing how hard Y/N had slaved and so damn happy she could stay here with him in the home they’d built together.
“I knew it. I fucking knew it! I’m so proud of you.”
Y/N laughed hugging him; “I’m so proud of us.”
~~~~~~~~~
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