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training4theapocalypse · 4 months

Text

Yes, chef (Jeffrey Steinberg x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 6k

Warnings / Tags: SMUT, Sex pollen, Established friendship, Friends to lovers, Mutual pining.

Summary: Most people in Evergreen think Jeffrey is an asshole. But you’re the only one who knows him from before - he was your favourite customer at your restaurant. And even if he's an egotist, deep down you know he's sweet. He even has a special surprise for you to take your mind off of the apocalypse.

A/N: Call me a men's rights activist because Jeffrey Steinberg did nothing wrong. (I'm joking - please never call me that)

Masterlist

Chapter text

You sit at the edge of the lake with an almost empty pack of cigarettes in your hand. The artificial sun sets in the distance as you feel the last cigarette in existence rolling around inside the confines of its battered cardboard prison.

Footsteps approach you on the grassy verge. You don’t need to look around to see who it is. You only have one friend in Evergreen who’d bother to come and find you. And as far as you can tell, he only has you. Unless he considers Cortex to be a friend.

“Do you think he put the lake here just to fuck with me?” you ask when Jeffrey Steinberg's footsteps come to a halt beside you but you still don’t take your eyes off the still body of water.

“Well, I think he put a lot of things in here to fuck with us,” says Jeffrey with a deep sigh as he lowers himself on the ground to sit next to you. “What makes you think the lake was one of them?”

“No fish.”

It catches you off-guard when Jeffrey laughs at this. You look at him seriously and it only makes his handsome but tired face break into an even wider smile as he laughs hard at your expense. You try to pout but it’s infectious. Your lips twist reluctantly into a smile as he rests on his elbows and leans back to observe the lake.

“No fish…” he chuckles, pushing his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Well, yeah, it would be pretty fucked up to trap a world-famous seafood chef in an ecosphere with an empty lake.” Jeffrey looks out at the water. “But it’s just a reservoir. For recycling and filtering the water supply.”

“You really get this place, Jeffrey. No wonder Fin wanted you here.”

“You’re clever too. I mean, your business acumen? You own an empire of restaurants -”

“Stop. We both know why he really wanted me here.”

Jeffrey takes a deep breath, carefully choosing his next words. “He was a real piece of shit. Or is, I suppose. If he ever wakes up.”

“You know how many times Fin tried to hire me to be his personal chef? I mean, he offered me a lot of money. I’m talking about generational wealth. It would make your eyes water.” Jeffrey raises an eyebrow. “Okay, maybe not your eyes. But most people’s. And I told him ‘No’.”

“See? Clever. Like I said.”

“So what does he do?” You press on, feeling like there’s steam coming out of your ears as Jeffrey lets you rant. “Let me die in peace with everyone I know? ‘Course not.” You make a disgusted noise. “I mean you guys… you guys are all essential to making Evergreen a success. And I’m not saying it’s right -” you add hastily when he opens his mouth to argue. “ - but you can see the logic. Me though? Cortex can synthesise food so he didn’t need a cook… No, he just wanted me here. Trapped for the rest of my life as a fucking servant.” You meet Jeffrey’s eyes behind the reflection of the sunset on his glasses. “I loved saying ‘No’ to him, y’know? I was like the one thing he couldn’t have. The thing that he couldn’t get by throwing money at.”

Jeffrey hesitates for a few moments. You suppose that before the asteroid hit Earth he used to be the kind of guy who got whatever he wanted by throwing money at it. “Is that why you haven’t cooked anything since you came down here?” he asks.

“It’s not much. But I suppose I still have my own free will.”

“Are those cigarettes?” asks Jeffrey, noticing you spinning the almost empty carton in your hands.

“Goes hand in hand with the industry.” You’d kill for a smoke break in the dirty alley behind a greasy kitchen right now. “But I’ve actually decided to quit.”

“You mean you had to quit. Unless Fin has a tobacconist down here that I don’t know about.”

“As long as there’s one cigarette left, I’ve chosen to quit. Free will.” You give him a small smile. “Is that stupid?”

“I suppose that all depends on your understanding of the concept of free will -” He stops himself when he sees your eyebrows raise. “I mean - sorry, I’ll shut up and stop ruining your attempt to have some autonomy.”

“Don’t be sorry. It must be hard being so smart - I guess you can’t turn it off.”

“Smart people know when to shut up and stop trying to prove themselves. I was just being a dickhead know-it-all.”

“I don’t think you’re a dickhead.”

“Hah, don’t say that in front of the others if you want to make friends,” Jeffrey says sourly.

“What do they know? They know you in here but I knew you out there. And out of all the rich assholes who came to my restaurants, you were my favourite.”

He chuckles and rests back on his palms. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You’d always get your assistants to book way in advance. Make sure you had a big plate of oysters waiting to impress woman after woman you’d bring in,” you smirk.

“God, I miss that,” says Jeffrey tilting his head back and looking at the sky. “Mostly the oysters but - ”

“- And you always left a huge tip for my staff.” You continue, preferring not to be reminded of Jeffrey Steinberg’s never-ending stream of previous conquests. “They liked you too. But Fin? Do you know the number of times I had Hannah calling my personal phone in tears because Fin wanted a table the same night or he’d fire her?” You roll your eyes. “As if I didn’t have a restaurant already packed with other billionaires and Saudi Princes that I could just bump.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Get Fin a table?”

“Well, yeah. But only because Hannah’s neck was on the line. It wasn’t so many years ago that I was in her position. Working for asshole Head Chefs who demanded the impossible.”

You put the pack of cigarettes back in your pocket and rest your head in your hands.

“It’s so gross to most people,” you say into your palms. “But I miss the fishy smell, even though I hated it at the time. And now I won’t get to smell it ever again.” You inhale deeply. Your hands smell clinically clean. Like hospital disinfectant.

“You still worked in the kitchen? I thought you’d have chefs to do that for you?”

“Of course I did. You think I put that jacket on for show when I came to your table to see you?” He shrugs. “I loved it. I loved being in the restaurant kitchen, preparing food. More than anything.”

“Well…” You look up and see him smiling at you, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth. “It’s funny you should mention it. Because I have something to show you.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oysters.

Nico was growing fucking oysters in her lab.

Jeffrey said she had needed them to harvest their large amounts of zinc and other nutrients for her experiments - scientific jargon that went over your head.

All you know is that you practically feel giddy as you and Jeffrey turn out the lights of Nico’s DNA bank and sneak along the corridor to the speakeasy.

You’re not sure why exactly you’re sneaking - Jeffrey basically runs this place. But you like that this is something for just the two of you. Something that the others can’t ruin with their chaos.

“Get some champagne and two glasses,” you say as the door to the speakeasy slides open.

“Yes, chef,” says Jeffrey when you run the cold tap behind the bar to clean the oysters. “Need anything else?”

“See if you can find a big plate and fill it up with ice.”

“What kind of ice?” asks Jeffrey looking at the fancy ice machine. “Crushed? Cubed? Ooh, spheres?”

“How many times have you eaten oysters on spherical ice in one of my restaurants?”

“Crushed. Got it.”

He puts the plate of ice on the bar and watches you from the other side as you shuck them.

“You know what they say about oysters though, right?”

“What’s that?” you ask absently, concentrating on sliding the knife between the shells.

“That they’re an aphrodisiac.”

Your knife almost slips when you look up at the stupid smirk on his face. You quickly avert your eyes back down at the task at hand. There’s no way you’d even consider starting any kind of romantic relationship down here. All of your previous relationships have ended badly - you can’t even begin to imagine how messy it would be if you were trapped in an Ecosphere with an ex-lover for the rest of your life.

“As if, Jeffrey. Even if you are the last fuckable man left on Earth.”

“Oh yeah? What about Axel and David?”

You shrug. Axel and David are good-looking in the way that most wealthy, successful men are but there’s something about Jeffrey with his rolled-up shirt sleeves, slutty little glasses and permanently messy hair that he’s always running his hands through, that makes you seriously reconsider your determination not to have a messy fling while you’re stuck here.

“This is a very dangerous conversation to be having while I’m holding a knife,” you tut, pointing it at him before resuming what you were doing. “Besides, I thought you were a man of science? You should know there’s no concrete evidence to say oysters really are an aphrodisiac.”

“That’s not what your Maitre D’ told me on Valentine’s night.”

“That,” you say, placing the two oysters onto the ice. “Is because if they say that we sell more. And the markup on these things is enormous.”

You slide the plate across the bar towards Jeffrey.

“Shall we?” he asks.

“No, let’s sit down over there.” You nod to the plush leather sofa behind him. “I want to pretend I’m in a nice restaurant, having a good time.”

“Like on a date?” He tilts his head.

You laugh. “Like two friends who have just finished a hard week at work. An exceptionally hard week. Grab the champagne, will you?”

You set everything down on the small table and sit down on the sofa. Jeffrey sits beside you and starts pouring champagne into two glasses.

“Give it here,” you say, gesturing for the bottle. “I wish we had fresh lemons or something acidic -”

“There’s Tabasco for Bloody Marys?” He nods at the bar cart.

“That’s more spicy than acidic…”

“Tabasco has a pH level of 4. It’s acidic.”

“Alright then, we can use Tabasco since it’s scientifically proven.”

“I sound like a dickhead know-it-all again, don’t I?” Jeffrey asks, getting up to find the bottle of hot sauce from the cart.

“It is kind of funny how you just can’t help yourself…” He sits down and passes you the Tobasco. “A few drops of something acidic and a tiny, tiny dash of champagne -” You spill a small drop of champagne onto each oyster. “Pairs excellently with Morecambe Bay rock oysters. So we can pretend that’s what we’re having instead of whatever lab-grown monstrosities these are... Ready?”

You pick up your oyster and Jeffrey does the same. You both tilt your heads back and swallow. As soon as the oyster hits the back of your throat, you feel warmth flooding through your veins. Every nerve ending sings. You suppose your body is just grateful that you’re finally feeding it with real, unsynthesised food. Even if it was grown by Nico in a lab.

“Even if these do turn out to be poisonous… what a way to go,” says Jeffrey. From the look on his face, you can see he’s almost as elated as you.

“Cheers to that,” you say, picking up your champagne glass and clinking it against his before taking a sip. “What champagne is this? No wait - let me guess!” You determinedly look away from the bottle. “Dom Perignon 2004?”

“Would you look at that? I’m not the only one who’s a know-it-all.”

The impressed note in his voice makes you beam. You look from the champagne label back at Jeffrey staring intently at you. And God, maybe it’s the dim light in here or the way he’s sitting with his arm relaxed on the back of the sofa but he looks… good. Maybe you’ve been under so much stress here in Evergreen that you’ve never really been tempted by how jaw-droppingly fuckable he looks.

It makes you wholeheartedly reconsider his suggestion.

“So if this was a date…” You begin and Jeffrey blinks at you as if snapping out of something. “What would your opening move be?”

He scoffs at you playfully. “I don’t need moves.”

“Oh, yeah? Women throwing themselves at you so often that you’ve forgotten the art of seduction?”

“Sort of,” he takes another sip of champagne. “I don’t know, I’d probably ask you what you did for a living. Are you a model slash actress? Or an actress slash model?”

“Ah, so in short, I’m not your type?”

“How many other chefs have been in Vogue?”

You feel flushed that he knows about your magazine features. But the heat creeping up your neck doesn’t stop at your face. It’s fucking boiling in here. Like a kitchen in the middle of a dinner rush on the busiest night of the year.

“And that works? Just asking them where they work?” You take another sip of champagne, hoping it will cool you down but the chilled liquid fizzes and practically sizzles on your tongue. Why is your mouth so warm?

“One hundred per cent success rate so far.”

“Go on then, let’s see if we can fudge those numbers.”

“You want me to try and pick you up?” He adjusts his navy shirt collar slightly and you can’t tear your eyes away from his Adam’s apple moving as he does. The heat you’re feeling spreads across your chest - you’re so warm that you want to rip your sweater off and toss it on the floor.

“Just for fun,” you say but you feel your heart beating so quickly in your ribcage that you’re sure it’s going to betray you. That he’ll notice.

“Alright.”

He moves in closer and you’re sure he must be able to actually hear the pounding in your chest. You can smell his aftershave from here. It’s sweeter than you’d expected it to be. Spicy vanilla with notes of tangerine. You could easily eat him for dessert.

“So what do you do, then?” he says, jolting you out of your daydream.

“I, um, I own a couple of seafood restaurants.”

“A couple? Yeah, right.”

“Well, a few.”

“I bet they’re extremely upscale. Not tacky like this place.”

“Some people would say that.” You smile. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I’m a racecar driver.”

“A racecar driver who wears glasses?”

“Alright, you’ve got me. I’m actually a masked vigilante.”

“Jeffrey…”

“I manage a college radio station?”

“So you lie about what you do on dates?”

“No. But I probably should. Because I’m a billionaire CEO.” He rolls his eyes as he says the last two words like it’s an inconvenience.

“Now why does that sound like the least believable one on that list?”

He runs his hand through his tousled, dark hair and you notice a bead of sweat clinging to his brow.

“Are you warm too?” You ask and bring the chilled champagne glass to rest against your neck.

“It’s like a million degrees in here.” He looks up at the ceiling. “Cortex? What’s the temperature reading in this room?”

“It is twenty-two degrees Celsius,” says Cortex’s disembodied electronic voice.

That doesn’t sound right. It feels more like forty.

“Cortex, can you turn up the air conditioning?”

You feel a blast of cold air sweeping over your skin. As the surface of your skin cools slightly, you notice that the heat from your body seems to permeate from your core, like the heat is coming from deep in your pelvis. No external breeze is going to help whatever this is.

“It is now seventeen degrees Celsius,” says Cortex after a few moments of silence where you and Jeffrey both determinedly look at anything but each other. Your eyes dart around the room as if expecting to see the heat.

“Do you think it’s broken?” you ask, not feeling any less warm.

“Cortex is never wrong… You don’t think it’s food poisoning, do you?”

“If it were food poisoning, it would take longer than a few minutes to kick in. And you’d be feeling more than just warm.”

He doesn’t say anything. You wonder if he too is feeling more than just warm - and not in a food poisoning sort of way. You wonder if he also has a deep, throbbing sensation in his underwear that’s getting harder and harder to ignore.

He pushes up his glasses to wipe sweat from the bridge of his nose. Those glasses. They’re so, devastatingly cute. You have a sudden, aching urge to see those glasses steamed up.

“Why do you still wear those?” You ask, trying to distract yourself from the way your body is screaming for attention. “Surely a guy like you would get laser eye surgery.”

“Here.” He takes his glasses off with one hand and passes them to you. “Put them on.”

You do. And you can see perfectly.

“They’re… just glass?”

“Yep. I am the type of guy that gets laser eye surgery. I just like how they look.”

“You slut.”

He almost spits out his drink. “What?!”

“These are like the sluttiest thing a man can wear!”

Now that his glasses are off, you notice just how green his eyes are. You can’t imagine having eyes that beautiful and hiding them behind glasses all the time.

You push his glasses up your nose but they slip again.

Fucking hell, you’re on fire.

You feel a drop of sweat roll from the nape of your neck down between your shoulder blades, sending a shiver down your spine. You need to take off this sweater before you turn into a soaking mess. Although your torso isn’t the only thing that’s sopping wet right now - you shift uncomfortably, feeling the way your underwear is saturated.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m just - just too fucking warm. Here, hold this a sec,” you say and pass him your champagne flute so you can pull your sweater off over your head, taking care not to catch it on the glasses still on your face. When you disentangle yourself you find him staring, unashamedly open-mouthed at your chest.

You look down. Your tank top is almost entirely translucent with sweat and your hard nipples poke through the fabric. Why are your nipples hard? It’s the opposite of cold.

“Sorry,” you say and cover your tits with your hands. Oh fuck. Why does the way you touch your own body feel so fucking good right now? “I didn’t realise…”

“It’s okay. We’re all friends here.”

“I… I don’t think I can let go,” you say, feeling your chest rising and falling under your palms. “I think I need something cold.”

Jeffrey looks at the ice-filled plate next to you. “What -” He swallows thickly. “What did you say again about the science? About oysters not being an aphrodisiac?”

“I…” Your mind feels blank. Like a rosy mist is clouding your brain. “I can’t remember.”

“I just wonder if Nico maybe didn’t get the chemical composition of those oysters quite right.”

His eyes meet yours. They don’t look as bright green anymore. They’re impossibly dark. Like his pupils are trying to find light in a pitch-black room.

“Do you feel… turned on?” he asks.

You take a gulp of air and your hands jolt from the fresh intake of oxygen. “No,” you lie, feeling your hard nipples under your palms. “Just hot.”

“Yeah… yeah, me too.” He puts down the champagne flutes, grabs and handful of ice and holds it to his neck. You watch breathlessly as it melts against his skin, trickling down his shirt. You grip your chest helplessly, not daring to remove your hands and do the same.

He notices the way your eyes linger on him. “Do you want me to…?” He thinks the longing look is for something cold when in actual fact, you’re jealous that the ice gets to roll down his delicious neck. You nod and he takes another handful of ice. He gets on his knees and leans over you, pressing it against your neck.

“Oh, fuck,” you whine and sink back into the corner of the sofa, feeling the crushed ice melting against your throat.

You can’t do anything except grab your own tits and try to steady your breathing as he holds it against you. But even as you breathe, the smell of his expensive cologne breaches your lungs.

“Your - your cologne is nice,” you say in an attempt to make conversation that isn’t about how good he’s making you feel right now. “What kind is it?”

“It’s bespoke. There’s a - a place in Paris that…” He trails off and you realise the ice has melted completely and he’s just holding your neck. Jeffrey’s hand is furnace-like. But it doesn’t make you feel any worse, on the contrary, it sends a pleasant tingling sensation through your body. Like his touch is answering the unasked question that you’re screaming internally. “Did that help?”

“The ice didn’t… But this is.”

You hope he won’t force you to elaborate that his skin touching yours is the only thing that’s making you feel better right now.

“Me too,” he says but before you get the chance to respond, his knee slips on the leather and his hips fall between your open legs. You feel his hard cock pressing against the seam of your jeans, right onto your clit. “Oh, fuck,” he groans. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” But despite his babbled stream of apology, he doesn’t pull back.

Doesn’t stop.

His hand moves from your throat to lace the hair at the nape of your neck as he grinds himself against you. And you realise now, he’s getting the same relief from physical contact that you’re feeling. The only difference is that you’re restraining yourself much better than he is right now. And while Jeffrey might be kind of a nerd, he’s bigger and stronger than you. You’re not sure you could fight him off. Even if you wanted to.

“Jeffrey?” you say uncertainly - not because it doesn’t feel good but because you feel like you should for his sake. The irony isn’t lost on you that after all your complaints about Fin respecting your free will, you want Jeffrey to ignore it.

That you want him to pin you down and get off however he likes.

It seems to jolt something in him. “Shit.” He jerks his hips back slightly and your whole body screams in protest. “I don’t know what - I don’t know why I did that.”

Your pussy throbs. “Do it again,” you whisper.

“Wha - really?”

Jeffrey looks down from your face to your body and back again. You breathe deeply, trying to calm yourself.

“Unless - unless you don’t want to?” you breathe.

Jeffrey swoops down and shuts you up, kissing you like he’s been wanting to do it for fucking years. You can’t thread your hands through his curly hair the way you want to because his chest is trapping your hands firmly against your tits. Instead, you pant as his tongue licks inside your mouth. His teeth pull on your sensitive bottom lip, harder than you expected, but you like it. More than like it.

Jeffrey’s tongue slides down your neck, tasting the combination of sweat and melted ice on your skin. His hands push up the bottom of your soaked tank top and with reluctance, you release the comforting grip on your chest. Your discomfort is quickly replaced with pleasure when he pushes your breasts together with his own warm hands and sucks urgently on your nipples like he can’t decide which one he wants to pay attention to first.

You squirm underneath him. You need these jeans off. You need his everything off.

“Fuck - let me - let me see you,” you whimper.

“Mhm,” he murmurs and detaches himself from your nipple. “In a minute.”

He resumes his frantic sucking and slobbering all over your tits. The pulsing in your clit can’t be fucking ignored now. Every flick of his tongue against your chest makes your core clench and tighten.

“Please, Jeffrey.” You barely recognise the pathetic plea that leaves your lips. What he’s doing feels good, sure, but you need him to fuck you. It’s not just a want. You think you might spontaneously combust if he doesn’t start paying attention to your pussy.

He lifts himself off you and starts taking off his shirt. You watch his fingers undo every button as you carelessly yank off your jeans and underwear in one fell swoop and toss them into a pile with your shoes and sweater onto the luxuriously carpeted floor.

“Oh, god,” you say, in annoyance as he removes his shirt and you can see his muscular chest and toned stomach. “Of course you have abs.”

“And you’re mad about that?” he smirks.

“Because you have everything. You’re fucking… ugh, you’re fucking perfect.”

“Well,” he says, undoing his belt. “If that’s the case, you’re going to be really pissed off when you see this.”

That arrogant piece of -

Your train of thought is cut off when he takes his cock in his hand.

He’s right.

You’re furious.

Furious that not only does Jeffrey have a perfect face and perfect body has a fucking perfect cock too. Suddenly your mouth feels dry. You know a thing or two about dating men on Forbes’ Richest List - and all previous experience has shown you that the Venn Diagram of billionaires, tiny dicks and premature ejaculators is practically a circle.

But Jeffrey? It looks like Jeffrey is a fucking outlier. Well, at least on the first two.

“I hate you right now,” you complain, and lie back down, watching him stroke himself between your legs.

“I can change your mind,” he grins and lowers his head to kiss your stomach.

As soon as his lips graze your soft skin, your thigh muscles twitch. “Ah, fuck. No - wait. Just fuck me. Please,” you whine.

You don’t really understand why you’re saying it. If there’s something you love it’s having a powerful man with his face buried between your legs. God knows you’ve been through enough of them.

But something - something chemical - at the back of your mind is yelling at you that you need fucked. Hard. Now.

“You don’t want me to -?”

“Later,” you plead.

You don’t need to tell him twice. From the sight of his leaking cock, you know why. The same ache is pulsing through his veins.

“Fuck, c’mere,” he grunts, pulling you closer by the hips. Jeffrey runs the head of his cock along your dripping slit and you almost cry out with need.

“Just put it in - oh, fuck -“

The instruction on your lips is cut off when he pushes forcefully through your folds. As soon as he fully sheathes himself, he slides his hands under your shoulders, pressing his full body weight into yours as he starts thrusting into you.

Normally, you’re a perfectionist. Your profession demands it, of course, but your demands don’t stop in the kitchen. In the bedroom, you have a particular way of liking things to be done and you’re not shy about expressing them. But right now, for the first time ever, your body doesn’t care about the finer details. Your pleasure doesn’t need to be carefully constructed in the exact way and order you’ve previously always needed.

All your pussy craves is exactly what Jeffrey is doing to it - which is fucking pounding you with seemingly zero regard for your own pleasure. As soon as he feels your pussy squeezing around him, some kind of basic instinct takes over and he’s merely using you as a tight hole to fuck himself into.

“Jesus, fuck, Jeffrey…”

You wrap your legs around his little waist, opening your hips up further so he can drill right into your G-spot. Your walls clamp and convulse around him as every sloppy, wet thrust draws your orgasm closer and closer.

“Fuckfuckfuck - yesssss,” you sob through gritted teeth right in his ear. You can tell by the way his fist in your hair tightens at the noises you’re making that he loves hearing you moan so unashamedly.

And you’re right. Because Jeffrey never thought you’d be like this. Always keeping him at arm’s length as a professional acquaintance. Never anything more. A fleeting flirtation maybe once or twice in all the years you’d known him. But never any indication that made him think you actually liked him. Never anything that would have him guessing that one day you’d end up wriggling underneath him, practically fucking yourself up into him and whimpering in his ear.

You can feel your pussy leaking all over Finn’s leather sofa when he moans something raggedly into the juncture of your neck. Your name.

Oh - fuck.

You were sort of lost in the fuzzy, clouded haze of how good he felt you almost forgot it was Jeffrey Steinberg who was fucking you until you heard your name on his lips. Jeffrey Steinberg and his slutty, dorky little glasses and his perfect fucking body that you can’t even see right now because you’re staring at the wood-panelled ceiling.

“Let me - let me see you,” you pant and gently push on his shoulders.

Jeffrey lifts himself off of you and without pulling out, keeps fucking you on his knees with one of your legs over his shoulder. Fuck - this angle. He’s so deep. And, Christ, so beautiful. His toned body is sticky with sweat, right down to the smattering of hair covering his lower abdomen. You look down to see his thick cock sliding in and out of you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. So fucking sloppy,” he groans, his brow furrowed in deep concentration as he too looks over your body, watching your tits bounce with every slapping thrust into you.

His concentration face is cute. Devastatingly so. But something’s missing…

“Where’s your glasses?”

Jeffrey’s hand caresses your face and the heel of his palm moves the wire frames, making you realise you’re still wearing them.

“Do you want them back?” you ask.

He shakes his head.

“You look slutty in them too,” he says and cups your face. He drags his thumb across your lip and you open your mouth so you can suck it.

“Mm-mm-mm…” Your hum around his thumb, stuttered by every pounding of his hips against yours gives you something to concentrate on. God, you’re so close. So fucking close. And you try to stop bucking your hips because you really, don’t want to cum just yet.

But it’s like Jeffrey is reading your mind.

“You gonna cum for me?”

You bite your lip and shake your head. Because instinct tells you that as soon as you both cum, whatever hormones Nico has pumped into these oysters will probably leave your system. And that this will all be over. That you’ll go back to being friends.

“Not - fuck - not yet.” Is all you can manage to stammer as Jeffrey’s hips continue their relentless pursuit into yours.

“C’mon, I can tell you’re close,” he says, right as your pussy clenches around his length. “We’ve been down here for so long. Aren’t you tired of waiting?”

“I don’t - oh, god… I don’t want this to be over.” Jeffrey looks at you so intently that you need to shut your eyes. It’s like staring at the sun - if you don’t look away you’ll get burned. “Not yet. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet…” The words keep spilling out like a mantra. If you keep repeating it, it’ll be true - right?

Wrong.

Everything pulls up in your core and tightens like a spring coiling. Oh, shit.

“This isn’t going to be over after you cum. It’s never going to be over. You’re trapped down here with me, remember?”

Fuck.

“Eyes on me,” he continues. “Look at me when you cum.” You look up at Jeffrey helplessly through his own askew, slightly steamed-up glasses still on your face. “I’ve wanted to see you like this for - for so long.”

Like this? With your flushed cheeks and messy hair and sweat practically pooling on your stomach from the heat? The corners of his mouth turn upwards in a gentle smile, showing off his dimples before he turns his head to kiss your calf leaning against his shoulder.

It’s so sweet. You’re done for.

There’s no stopping your orgasm now as you feel a surge of heat and the contracting of muscles in your abdomen.

“So - fuck - so fucking pretty,” he says through gritted teeth as he watches you squirm. The pleasant way you wriggle against him and force yourself to maintain eye contact spurs him on. He grabs your hips and fucks himself as fast and as deep as he can into you, pounding into your G-spot as you speed past the point of no return. “That’s it, baby, you can cum for me.”

Christ.

“Fuck, Jeffrey, I’m - fuck - I’m -”

But just what you are is cut off when your climax takes hold of you and shuts down your loquaciousness. Everything goes black and you barely realise what’s happening - all you can focus on is your pussy camping down and spasming around him. It’s only when you feel the sensation of his glasses pressed into your face do you realise Jeffrey is kissing you.

He grinds his hips deep into yours, cumming deep inside you as your own ecstasy sends fireworks ricocheting from your core right to your extremities.

.Jeffrey sits back on his knees again, his hips still rocking gently into you, forcing the combined mess of his cum and your wetness to spill down between your legs and all over Fin’s couch.

“Jeffrey, that was - ”

“We’re not done yet,” says Jeffrey smearing a wet thumb across your clit. “I told you - you’re trapped here with me.”

Your eyes roll back in your head.

You think you might need to revisit your Venn diagram.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jeffrey both lie, sprawled out and naked on the carpeted floor of the speakeasy. Both wet. Both sticky. Both trying to catch your breath. You have no idea where his glasses are.

Your mind feels clearer now and you wonder if his does too. You turn your head to look at him, frowning up at the ceiling.

“Jeffrey, are you alright…?”

“I’m worse than Fin,” he groans.

Worse than Fin? This is serious. In your eyes, nobody is worse than Fin. You prop yourself up on your elbow. “What do you mean?”

“Always trying to get what I can’t have.”

Your frown. “I don’t understand. What can’t you have?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He runs his hand through his hair in that stressed-out way he always does. “The fact you thought I was a good customer? When all I was doing was parading my dates in front of you in a stupid attempt to make you jealous.”

“You - you were?” The thought that Jeffrey didn’t just want you because he’s ingested god-knows-what chemicals Nico has pumped into those oysters sends a pleasant tingle down your spine.

He laughs at himself scornfully. “I never wanted to be there with them. I just wanted an excuse to see you.”

“Are you kidding me?”

He’s startled by your tone. “What?”

“It took a fucking asteroid hitting Earth for you to admit you like me?”

“You never seemed interested!”

“What was I gonna say? ‘Hey, Jeffrey. I know you’re busy being a literal genius but I’m just about finished braising some fish if you’d like a meeting of the minds after this?’”

“Yeah? Well, what was I going to say to you? ‘Hey, I know you’re the most talented, in-demand chef in the world but can I take you to someone else’s restaurant?’”

“Uh? Yeah!”

“Oh.” You both look at each other and bust out laughing at the absurdity of this conversation. “I’m really not as smart as they say,” he says, closing his eyes in amusement.

You let the back of your hand fall on his bare chest, hitting him playfully.

“Well, I’m not exactly ‘in-demand’ anymore.”

“I wouldn’t say that just yet,” says Jeffrey with a smirk. Without warning he climbs on top of you. “I can be pretty demanding.”

#freddie stroma #evergreen podcast #evergreen #hidden signal: evergreen #hidden signal podcast #jeffrey steinberg #jeffrey steinberg x reader #qcode #fanfic

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marvus-xoloto · 1 year

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idk if you've talked about this but what do you think it would take to get marvus real and truly angry? like the kind of anger that turns his eyes the same color as the base of his horns. that pure rage. how would he react to that situation? what would it take to bring him down afterward? sorry this is such a specific prompt but im curious about your thoughts on it.

I may have spoken about this before, idk! I don't mind repeating hcs because it's fun to revisit old opinions and see how they've changed :o) PLUS i am like DESPERATE for hiveswap meta/analysis content and I'm happy to make more with people <3

Anyway. I had to sit on this one for a while; really had to think about it. (Frankly, my mind is feeling unorganized so it took a little longer than I wanted haha.) My opinion isn't super formed yet, so I'm open to discussion about this one (and. everything. i like to discuss).

My gut instinct says: nothing that he'll likely experience, but let's dive deep, shall we ;o)

First off, let's talk about Marvus and emotions in general to get a baseline.

Marvus is ice cool COLD. He's very easy going, only lashing out when things that are important to him are going to shit (and even then its's not a terribly strong reaction, see: his bad end when all the clowns are fighting. "Man wtf is going on" or something like that. Marvus enjoys performing for his crowd; more on that in some other post). That being said, he recovers quickly and will generally just Not Get His Hands Dirty (come on troll nostradamus letz skeet skoot).

He is in control of himself. He has to be.

In my opinion, this indicates that he has a very high emotional IQ. He has to have a high emotional IQ as both an artist and a manipulator (some might say these two things are one and the same for him). Not much shocks him, nothing can really get to him.

This does mean that while he is generally friendly, it's not easy to actually get close to him unless it's his idea. That's not relevant here, though, haha.

Here's another part of Marvus that explains his anger response: he always has a plan. The gears in his head are always turning; he's very intelligent. For him, anger doesn't solve any of his problems or bring him closer to his goals: he needs to be approachable (see: with Joey, how he manipulates her [don't get me started on their clown and kid friendship it fucks me up sooo bad]), and he needs to appear only as threatening as he needs to. He's quick to improvise (see how he protects Joey in the purple car at the end of act 3).

So. What gets to him!

In my opinion, the only two things that have the potential to get him this angry are:

-> Lack of privacy

Marvus needs to keep his secrets in order to, well, do what he does. This leads him to the instinct to keep his personal life and secrets VERY well hidden. Even if it's not a big deal on the surface, something like the name of his matesprit dropping or tracks leaking (that he didn't stategically leak himself) might frustrate him more than the average person. Something like explicit pictures of him, or something that someone could use as a metaphorical thread to follow towards his motivations or his ego; these might make him actually pissed.

That being said, though, I genuinely can't see him getting red-eyed angry about this. Generally, I do see him as someone who enjoys getting out of trouble, even if he's not thrilled about it at first. Like playing a puzzle! I'll leave it open as a possibility, however. What I really think could get to him is...

-> Knowing that he is, for whatever reason, not free or otherwise helpless

This is more esoteric and, frankly, extremely rare in his life.

Marvus really does not like the idea of having no freedom. We can infer from his general dislike of seadwellers combined with his ideas to "shake up" the hemospectrum (emphais on "shake up," notice that he never mentions improving it) that it's less about inequality and more about inconvenience. He dislikes that anyone might have percieved power over him (notice during his diatribe that he does view purple blooded trolls as unquestionably stronger and more influential than the caste above, and how he doesn't do this for say, bluebloods, who are a caste below but still in a position of relative power).

But having a plan is pretty much the core of Marvus's id. Not having that? Losing that sense of himself? Failing? I can see this genuinely making him rage-y angry.

Calming him down is simple: find him a solution. He's timeboud, thus goal based. He needs to have a focus point, something to reach for.

Anyway! Hope that made sense!

#hiveswap #phew. thank u for the prompt anon i felt like being insane #(<- said silas who is never not insane about hiveswap and marvus specifically)#marvus #marvus xoloto #not the most well writen headcanon post but i tried my best!#i'm very tired. i just hope it makes sense and reads well :o)

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j0kers-light · 8 months

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TW suicide, don’t need to respond if you don’t want to.

this is random but this scenario has been on my mind, out of curiosity how do you think joker would react to someone about to commit suicide? like he so happens to walk by them about to let themselves fall off a bridge or shoot themselves or something. would he just ignore it, sit and watch or talk to them or even kill them himself for fun? (or possibly even find it in himself to empathize with them and help??)

it’s mostly interesting to me because he goes on about “people in their last moments” and he likes to expose people being cowards and scared of death and such. but what happens when someone clearly isn’t afraid and even wants to die?

doesn’t have to be a one shot btw (unless you want it to!) i’m just curious about your general thoughts.

Hey hi anon!! 🖤✨

Found this ask buried deep in the inbox! (yay to my emails for helping me restore most of them!) I thought about it and I couldn't fix this into a oneshot since its a very short scenario. BUT YOU ARE ONTO SOMETHING ANON!

I'm reminded of Joker's conversation with the cop in the GCPD precinct/ (I couldn't find a link of the exact movie scene but I have it memorized!)

"You see in their last moments, people show you who they really are. So, in a way, I knew your friends better than you ever did. Would u like to know which one of them were cowards?"

and Ledger delivered that speech sitting on the floor!! He is him! Moving on. I think Joker would be stupefied if someone was unafraid of death. Someone that embraces it and (disturbingly) makes the situation beautiful or poetic would shake his psyche.

Kinda like this. Warning TW: Suicide down below 👀

Imagine! 🃏

Joker is lurking around the alleyways of Gotham City letting the night fly by when he comes across someone standing on a tall building. Like on the ledge arms stretched out with their head titled back.

He approaches them and clicks his tongue which gets their attention. "Don'T do iT. There's uhh, more to life than... this." He gestures to the long fall. "You'd only make a mess."

He thought his dark humor would get them to question things but they shake their head.

"No there isn't. I've made up my mind. I'm ready."

Joker eyes them warily. He's not used to this type of potential jumper. They actually sound sincere. "Ready for what? At this height your best outcome is a broken leg." He's lying, the building is over ten stories tall, but it gets the person to finally look at him over their shoulder.

In that moment J sees their tears despite the smile on their face. The juxtaposition is jarring.

"Why you crying?" He asks.

They chuckle and turn to face the edge again. The wind disrupts their balance, causing them to sway back and forth but they stay on the ledge. For now. Joker moves closer out of instinct. Why does he feel uneasy about this? Should he step in and stop them?

Usually people step down from the ledge by now.

"You won't understand; I'm happy. This isn't an end, I'm simply embracing my new beginning with open arms." They close their eyes as Joker's widen. He yells at them to stop, but he's too late.

By the time he makes it to the ledge, their body is already in freefall. He watches their beginning unfold with a horrified expression. Was it madness, a delusion? What beginning could someone embrace with such a brutal end?

The entire walk back to your apartment he's troubled to his core. It doesn't make any sense. Joker believed that people showed their true colors in their final moments.

Joker was unsure if they were a coward for toughing it out or truly the strongest person alive for taking matters into their own hands. Joker hasn't been the same since.

#thanks anon!#thanks for the ask!#ledger joker #tw suicide #do not read if this upsets you #dark content up ahead

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likebreadandwine · 9 months

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Glad it was worded respectfully enough to warrant such an informative response, lol. It's just one of those cases where another person's experience is so different from my own that I honestly can't help but inquire about it and compare notes, so to speak

The way you described flirting is particularly interesting because, on the one hand, I feel like that's an approach that a lot of us take on the internet. There's a general, mutual understanding that we're all going to be more openly flirty and teasing with each other in kink spaces than we otherwise may be in other contexts, with the added footnote that it probably won't go anywhere beyond that most of the time unless there's mutual interest and actual effort involved (some of us understanding/respecting that more/less than others). And, I think a lot of us do tend to enjoy 'performing' to varying degrees, enjoying "the audience's reaction", as you put it. It's fun to feel a little thrill yourself, but it's just as fun to know you've pushed someone else's buttons too

On the other hand, flirting is often understood as the lead-in to more intimate activities, be they sexual or sensual. Though, in my book, it's hard to find satisfaction in one without the other. Sexual intimacy works for me when there's an understanding that it's supported by sensual and emotional intimacy, otherwise it feels...cheap? Not that sex is cheap or that people who just wanna fuck are lesser creatures in any way, it's just rarely something that I crave on its own because it's not the only thing I crave (even when I'm browsing kinks, I almost always gravitate towards things where two people/characters are really into each other). Likewise, while sensual/emotional intimacy is incredibly important to me, I'm wired in such a way that having no sexual intimacy behind it would be like biting into a burger and finding out that it's only buns with nothing in between. Those buns could be some 10/10 bread, but it's just not a burger without everything in between

So, hearing that a lot of this sort of stays 'surface level' for you is certainly interesting. I'm sorry that the one situation you mentioned ended so poorly (especially since feelings are definitely a lot harder to understand and communicate at that age), but that example does beg the question, have you ever looked into what demisexuality entails and do you think you relate to it in any way?

you're totally spot on re: online kink talk/flirting. we're all a bit more open and teasing here than we might be in other contexts. the confidence I've built here has also translated to my encounters offline—I've become kind of a bold flirt lol.

it sounds like sexual, sensual, and emotional intimacy are all tied together for you, which makes sense! (excellent burger analogy.) they're not linked like that for me.

to address your question: I don't identify with demisexuality, because on those rare occasions I've felt some kind of physical attraction to someone, it was immediate. I felt it the day we met, not after developing an emotional bond.

I used to identify as grey-ace, and I think that label makes a lot of sense for me: I experience some kind of physical attraction, albeit rarely, and I'm clearly pretty involved in this sexual kink space, including actively teasing and encouraging folks. I would say I'm sex-neutral: I'm not really interested but I'm not repulsed either.

so why don't I use it anymore? well, that person I mentioned—that was the most I'd ever been attracted to someone. if we were in the same room, I wanted them to be touching me (and when they did touch me, it was like warmth spreading across my whole body and sparking fireworks under my skin). plus, I was totally in love. we shared hobbies and friends and interests, we had deep conversations, we had good banter. and I still had no interest in having sex with them. not even in fantasy did I want it.

which, to me, suggests I straightforwardly do not experience sexual attraction, and the fastest way to communicate that is just to say that I'm ace. are my feelings nuanced and complicated? totally. but a more specific label isn't going to capture those nuances.

#so in summary:#demi as a label is not a good fit #grey ace is a good fit but I don't love it #and ace feels just right :)#asks and answers #anonymous

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witchcraftandburialdirt · 1 year

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<anon> egg , i've left you for last since i knew there was a lot i wanted to say . i'm terrible with being deep in sentiment ( and have struggled a lot with the positivity asks i've both received and sent ) but i hope that i can convey just how wonderful of a person you are . you've been through a lot and while you know that i , in my ways am always trying to encourage you to enforce your boundaries and take better care of yourself , i think it says a lot about your heart and consideration for the people around you that you fret a lot about things . i respect your carefulness as a quality and hope to see you grow more confidence and feel more comfortable over time !

haha , i still remember when we added each other on discord and how your name maDE ME LAUGH LIKE YE S . GOOD TASTE . i'm thankful for our conversations and god , you and han discovered all too quickly what it's like to tease me ( i'll allow it ig ................ /j ) . you and han bring out a silliness in me that is really not possible unless i feel comfortable , so thank you for that . silliness aside though , i am thankful for our more serious conversations or maybe not even serious like in a deep way but just like ... i think about the earnestness you had when you gave me feedback on the nsf/w that i was writing and while you turned it into something lighthearted , it really made me happy and blew away my anxieties when i saw your positive feedback . just in general , i think that you help me put my head back on my shoulders whenever i'm spiraling a bit with the anxiety and that is ... it means a lot to me .

anyways , i don't want this to get too long but ... i don't really say or hope of this from many people that i meet , especially on tumblr , but i mean it genuinely when i say that i hope the three of us can continue to be friends for a long time ! </anon>

I know for most of these I've been posting funny memes but I--I've reread this one maybe 5 times over and it legitimately brought tears to my eyes, and I had to like, stop and wipe up my mess. You and Han have brought me so much joy in such a short amount of time, and I honestly feel blessed that I was able to meet the two of you, even if I send you bald yone's and make you wanna choke me--

I'm just, blown away by the thought that went into this message, and its something that I plan to keep on days that I really need it. Mars, I really appreciate you more than I can say, and I want to reaffirm that you help screw my head back on too when it starts to come loose. I adore our conversations and I really really want to stay friends for as long as time allows it. You're a wonderful human being, and even though its hard for you to admit it to yourself, I'm here to tell you and pound it into your head that you're a welcoming and loving individual. It's been an honest to god privilege to be your friend, share little thoughts, and witness all of the amazing things you write, draw, and create. You're honest and blunt, yet nuanced and gentle in your approach, and have helped me regain so much confidence that was previously shattered.

Seriously, you're just a really good friend. I can't stop complimenting you back honestly, and if I don't stop myself I'll go on forever. Just--thank you. Thank you for being you, and for allowing me into your life.

#mun speaks #tell me how you feel meme #windchaser #well #you did it #you officially made me cry #keeping this for later

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diosmio76 · 3 years

Text

What I Deserve (2) | soft Dark!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Bucky couldn’t believe his luck when he found you. So innocent, so alone, and so naive. He had been following you throughout the week, hell- he wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore and you never noticed him once.

Pairing: Dark!Bucky x Reader

WARNINGS: +18, dub-con, needle use, stalking, fingering, kidnapping, kind of non-con (more dub-con but just incase)

Word Count: 3,076

A/N: my timeline on which version of Barnes is fucked up and a mix of everything honestly // my first ever time writing smut, and honestly I'm open to constructive criticism b/c I have no experience in this area LOLZ

You squeezed your eyes as you stretched your body. Feeling your comforter rise and fall against your skin from your movements. You hung your feet off your bed and stretched them before standing up. You did your usual set of morning stretches, were they done correctly? Probably not, but it was the thought that counts and the only form of self-care you gave yourself. You let out a sigh as you got ready for another day similar to all the rest. You don’t even remember what it felt like to be excited about waking up, but who were you to complain. You used the toilet as you went back and forth in your mind about nothing in particular, your eyes staring at your bed that was quickly losing the warmth it collected from your body. Once done in the bathroom you dragged yourself to your vanity, hearing the faint noise of cars on the street, you began getting ready for work. After changing and grabbing your tattered work bag, you began your journey with all the other commuters.

The day dragged on like any other, talking to coworkers only when they needed something from you. Hearing the usual remarks of “Oh, I didn’t notice you” or “I didn’t even see you there”, you got used to it but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. Before you had time to dwell on it, it was time to go home. You packed your bag then began your walk home, following the same route you always take during the week. Taking a little solstice in the fact that you were just another face in the crowd, that fact made you feel as if everyone else was alone too. Once home you locked the door and dropped your bag, heading to the bedroom you changed into an oversized shirt and put on your slippers before heading towards the living room. You turned on the tv and lowered the volume for some background noise, making the short trip towards the kitchen to make dinner. You rarely got messages on your phone unless it was from your mom or your phone provider wanting you to update your old phone, so you scrolled mindlessly through various social media newsfeeds. You munched on a vegetable as you waited for your pan to heat up. You tried to not feel bad for yourself, you were the one to blame for the lack of social life but you were in too deep. Too set in your ways. You stared at the steaming pan as you imagined moving across the country.

“Yeah right” you said aloud to yourself as you finished cooking your dinner, eating the food but not really tasting it.

~~~

You repeated the same routine the next day, unbeknownst to you today was the day that Bucky decided you were ready. It didn’t take him long to find a house isolated by miles of forest. Despite its unassuming traditional exterior, the inside was modern as he enjoyed the impersonal nature that the style provided. He spent the majority of his time there making sure the house was locked and secure in case you tried anything. The thought made him laugh a little, knowing you didn’t have it in you but he didn’t want to take any chances. Things had been going his way lately, and finding you was like the universe was rewarding him even more. At first, he considered getting to know you, and doing the whole flowers and dates thing but decided he didn’t have the patience for all that waiting, he’s been waiting long enough and he deserved something good. He settled on a much easier method. Breaking in was easy, old apartments like this barely gave him any trouble. He even had someone hold the building door open for him, just his luck.

The lock felt weird when you opened your door but you didn’t think anything of it, dismissing it as another sign of the building’s old age. He watched from afar as you went about your usual routine. He was beginning to become skeptical at how oblivious you were. He was practically behind you and you hadn’t even looked over your shoulder once. He even made some accidental noises by stepping on squeaky floorboards and didn’t get a reaction from you, he took this as another lucky break. You were tired today and fell asleep relatively easily, considering how long it typically took you to fall asleep. Bucky walked around your apartment as he waited for you to enter a deeper sleep, familiar with everything since he had been in here a few times since first spotting you all those weeks ago. He looked at your book collection, a mix of genres, and looked closer at the few photos you had on display. A majority of the old photos seemed to be of your family from decades ago. He picked up one that seemed more recent, the only one you had up that included you. He recognized the other two people in it, your mom and sister, both busy with their own lives. He already sized up your family and it would be easy to handle them if he needed to.

He walked into your bathroom and went through your medicine cabinet, finding nothing out of the ordinary besides a few nail polish bottles and various allergy medicines. Finally, he noticed the soft snores coming out of your room. He shut the cabinet, staring at his reflection for a second. He knew this was the right thing to do and had no bad intention. He softly grunted at his pathetic moment of self-reflection and took out a needle filled with a small dose of anesthesia. He observed you for a moment as you slept, mouth slightly agape and eyebrows relaxed, he considered for a moment how easy it would be to take you, but reminded himself of the bigger picture. He easily found a vein and waited a few minutes before taking you to your new home.

~~~

You squeezed your eyes shut and smiled to yourself as you thought about how well you slept last night. You hummed as you kept your eyes closed briefly noticing the absence of warmth that the morning sun provided you in the mornings. You thought nothing of it, too distracted by the fact that this was probably the best night’s sleep you’d gotten in months. Despite that you still felt a little groggy, you began to move but quickly felt something rough holding you down. Your eyes shot open as your breathing began to quicken. You became conscious of the rough restraints around your arms and legs. You awkwardly lifted your head up as you tried to look around, it looked like a basement based on the unfinished walls surrounding you, a single lightbulb hanging above you on the unfinished ceiling. You attempted to calm yourself down by deeply inhaling but knew it was a lost cause once you heard the shaky exhale leave your mouth. You knew you couldn’t break free from the knotted rope holding you down. You had weak arms and tried to use your leg strength in an attempt to kick yourself free but felt it begin to sting as it irritated your ankles from the pressure. You sat in a deafening silence and felt completely petrified.

You let out a whimper as you heard footsteps approaching the door. The door opened as you saw a tall, broad man approach you. You were too scared to notice anything about him and began to feel yourself shake, causing you to miss the way he hungrily reacted to your frightened state. A shadow was cast on you as he stood over the bed. From the corner of your eye, you watched as his right hand lowered the comforter to your torso and expose your shirt as you twitched at the action. He smirked in response, your eyes following his hand as it hovered over the comforter as though he was going to do something. It exited your line of sight but your eyes were fixed in place. You heard movement as he straightened himself before speaking to you for the first time.

“Did you sleep well? You’ve been out for most of the day” His deep voice filled the room as you kept shaking, too scared to answer. You could hear your heartbeat in your ears and wondered if he could too, but he was too busy trailing his eyes over your torso. He noticed the way your nipples created peaks on your oversized shirt. He licked his lips before he moved his hand up to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You did your best at avoiding his gaze keeping your gaze low, you swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to control your shaking but felt it intensify instead.

Still gripping your chin, a little tighter than necessary, and trying to control your shaking body got him hard. You looked so weak like this, it made him excited, a wicked smile painted his face as he looked down at your wide eyes and lips clamped together in terror.

“Look at me when I talk to you, doll”

You had a difficult time looking people in the eyes in general, so you lifted your eyes and stopped at his chin. You didn’t dare go any higher. He squeezed on your chin and heard him let out an amused chuckle. If you weren’t so terrified you would have noticed how out of place it sounded given the situation.

“That’ll have to do, for now, I can tell you’re terrified but you really have no reason to be. I only want to do what’s best for you- for us, I’m only doing what needs to be done.” He didn’t expect a response and stared at you as he let you sit with his words.

He took a moment and let his hand trail down from your chin. He felt the nervous swallow as his pointer finger trailed lower and lower. His finger deviated from its straight path as he placed his palm against your chest, pausing to feel your heartbeat racing. He almost felt sorry as he felt its frantic rhythm. He couldn’t help himself as he cupped your left breast. His thumb gently circling around the hard bud. You scrunched your eyebrows and scolded yourself for getting pleasure from his action. His gentle touch was a strong contrast to the situation he had put you in.

His finger continued its journey down and stopped just above your mound. You swallowed as you felt his eyes staring at you intently, not daring to see if you were right. He lifted his hand momentarily as he moves to sit next to you, hearing the springs groan under him, pushing the comforter towards the bottom of the bed. You get chills as warmth escapes, feeling the crisp air conditioning surround your body instead. Jerking at his touch, he returns his right hand to your body just below your navel this time. His fingers trace down until it feathered above your mound. You held your breath as if any noise from you would assure that he would continue his actions as if he would forget you were there. You felt his pause when his fingers hit the material of your cotton underwear. He slowly traces a short line along your clit, you ball your hands into fists wanting to make him stop. Why was your body enjoying this?

You hold your breath as he gently pulls them down till they were at your knees and returns his hand to its previous place. The empty room is quiet, amplifying the sound of both of your breaths. You feel his middle and ring finger move lower gently stroking your folds. You hear him let out a surprised huff as he continued stroking.

“I was gonna bring lube, but it looks like we won’t be needing it, huh sweetheart?”

You felt your cheeks heat up, he was right. You felt heat building ever since he grabbed your chin, but he didn’t need to know that. All you wanted to do was at the very least was cover your face, but felt the irritation of the rope on your wrists instead. He began back and forth on your heat for a few moments. The room now having the added noise of his fingers slowly speeding up as he stroked you. You shut your eyes as he circled around your entrance, you could already tell his fingers would be significantly bigger than yours. He slowly inserted a finger as you sucked in a quick breath. You could hear him let out a quiet groan as he watched his finger disappear into your hole.

After finding a rhythm he added another finger. You let out a whimper at the fullness of both of his thick fingers filling your hole. It stung at first, hurting slightly you wanted to try and stop his intrusion. Besides your finger, you had never had anything else inside of you. You felt slightly embarrassed by this when you were younger but as you got older you accepted the fact that your lack of social life was a major reason as to why you never had anything close to a romantic partner. Never being social enough to meet someone that you would want to be friends with, let alone sleep with. You felt as though you should tell this man, did you even know his name, that this was the farthest you’ve ever gone with anyone before. Before you think any more about it you open your mouth, nothing coming out at first but it was enough for his eyes to go to your face. He slowed down his pace and had his eyes trained on your face waiting for you to speak as if his fingers weren’t leisurely stroking your soft walls in the meantime.

“I- I think I need to tell you something” The words left you slowly and your voice was shakey as you tried to speak and ignore your oncoming orgasm at his rough fingers stroking you gently. Why did you feel like you owed him this? You briefly thought to yourself. But it was too late to stop now.

He smirked at you as he waited for you to continue on. So far, you’ve shown him nothing but submissiveness. Cementing the fact that he made the right choice when he chose you. He didn’t plan on being this gentle with you originally but he couldn’t help it, feeling as though any other treatment would scare you away. His fingers never stopping their gentle strokes, he watched your lips as your quiet voice trembled on.

“I’ve never really, I haven’t done any of this before. I’m a virgin” the words leave you slowly, you gulp and still refuse to meet his gaze, scared for a moment that you would lose the gentleness he has given you thus far. You knew that wouldn’t stop him, but a small part of you hoped it would be enough for him to stop just for now. For the first time you decided to look at his face, still too scared to meet his eyes you opted to watch his mouth as you waited for a response.

To say he was ecstatic was an understatement. You had chosen to tell him this on your own, he didn’t even get a chance to ask you. He didn’t want to assume but based on his observations of you he had an inkling that this was the case. He felt proud of you, his perfect girl. He smiled gently at you in response. You shivered as his fingers paused their gentle strokes in you as he moved to kiss the top of your head.

“Thank you for telling me, my good girl” it sounded patronizing but your body thought otherwise. Feeling heat shoot straight to your core at his response. He felt you squeeze around his fingers at his response.

Once he felt that you adjusted to his fingers he began to alternate inserting them. Thrusting one and then the other inside of you. Your eyes squeezed shut, you never felt this close to cumming so quickly. Your eyes swelled with tears as you quietly sobbed, reaching your climax. Both of you watched as he pulled his fingers out of your sensitive heat. Covered in slick from your climax. You watched as he moved his fingers close to his face, smirking at you.

“Just a little taste for now,” he said he brought his fingers to his mouth to suck on his two fingers that were just inside you seconds ago. The empty room amplified the sound, your face felt hot as you watched the lewd act feeling your core still throbbing.

He reveled in your obvious embarrassment, humming at your reaction. He wiped his damp fingers on his pants as he got up. You blinked slowly, taking in what had just happened. You had enjoyed what had just happened but felt angry at yourself for that. He shouldn’t have done that, and you had let yourself succumb to his fingers so easily. He watched you, deep in thought with your eyes spaced out. His cock throbbed as if reminding him he needed a release too but he didn’t want to scare you. He had a plan, but you had just showed him that he didn’t have to be as rough as he initially thought with you. And he wouldn’t ever admit it but he couldn’t have even if he wanted to, as soon as he interacted with you it was almost as if he needed to handle you with care. Something that he thought wasn’t in his nature, but for you, maybe he’d try.

He felt his confident demeanor waver for a second, an odd feeling. He needed to get away from her and have a moment alone, so with a quick glance, he turned towards the door and practically ran out of the room without speaking to her.

Too busy thinking, you didn’t notice the foreign feelings your captor had just experienced. Only noticing this broad figure leaving the room as if he was late for something. If you weren’t so busy scolding yourself you would have wondered if you had done something wrong to elicit that action from him.

#bucky x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #winter solider x reader #stalker!bucky #stalker!bucky x reader #winter soldier x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes #soft!bucky #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky imagines #marvel imagines #soft dark!bucky #bean writes

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komotionlessqueenmm · 3 years

Text

Imagine # 835

Gif NOT mine.

If this gif is yours (or you know who's it is) please let me know, so I can give you/them credit.

Gif credit goes to - @maxhorrorgifs (Unless told otherwise.)

Year posted - 2021

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"Thomas get yer ass over here!" Charlie yelled after having knocked the man with blue eyes unconscious. Tommy hurried to his older brothers side, looking down to the man before looking to Charlie. "Take this one up to the attic, he'll be a pet for (Y/n)." Charlie snickered as he thought about the excitement his daughter would feel upon receiving such a generous gift. Tommy nodded his head then picked up the man, tossing him onto his shoulder he carried him straight to the attic, where he chained him up by his wrists and ankles. All the while Charlie went to inform his daughter of the news. "(Y/n) darlin' come here a second." He called out as he knocked on her locked bedroom door, smiling to himself when she obeyed him hastily. "Yes daddy?" She tilted her head with curiosity, her big shining eyes like stars. "I've got a present for ya up in the attic." He chuckled when her eyes lit up with excitement, despite the fact that it was brief. "Come on, I wanna show you." He held his hand out to her, leading her straight to the attic when she took his hand. "Close your eyes sweetie." He ordered softly, leading her the rest of the way a bit slower so she wouldn't trip. "Now open your eyes." He chuckled when she gasped in surprise, turning her attention back to her father. "Go on go play with your new pet." He laughed giving her a gentle push, she nodded her head obediently, before slowly approaching the unconscious man. "I'll leave you kids be." Charlie hummed as he exited the attic, despite the fact that (Y/n) and the man were clearly adults.

Curiously she turned her attention back to the man, before scurrying off to fetch some water and a first aid. When she returned she was both relieved and worried that he was still unconscious. She wet a washcloth then began gently wiping away the blood and grime on his handsome face. He stirred awake before jolting upright with a gasp, starling (Y/n) who quickly scooted away from his reach. "Wha- where am I?" He stammered in a daze, his eyes landing on (Y/n), staring at her with confusion before realization swirled in his eyes. "You?" He frowned trying to remember where he'd seen her before. "You were out at the barn, before the sheriff ran you off." He moved his hand to hold the throbbing side of his head, only to grumble when the chain prevented him from being able to do so. "I wanted to help you, I want to help you." (Y/n) spoke softly, making the man still in his movements. "But I can't... Daddy he'd... He'd kill you, and he'd hurt me." She added nervously, softly biting her lip with fearful eyes. "Get me out of here, and I'll protect you." He tried offering, his frown deepening when she shook her head. "You don't understand... Daddy's lost it, and we're the only ones around for miles... He'd find us, he'd kill us both if I tried running away with you." (Y/n)'s eyes glazed over, scooting a little closer to the man. "This is the only way I can keep you safe, daddy knows you're up here, and I can't risk moving you." She whispered. "There must be someone else around here." He pulled at his chains in a vain attempt to break free. "There ain't, everyone's up and left. Even if we could hide from daddy and uncle Tommy, the elements would eventually kill us." (Y/n) frowned as she looked to the floor with shame in her eyes.

"My names Eric." He spoke softly, a smile ghosting his lips when she peered up at him. "I'm (Y/n)." She mirrored his faint smile, before grabbing the first aid kit. "We can... We can try escaping in time, but we have to wait until its safe, otherwise daddy will be expecting it." (Y/n) whispered as she went back to cleaning up Eric's wounds. "How long will that take?" Eric asked with dread. "I don't know." (Y/n) frowned with sad eyes, feeling sorry for Eric and his friends. "I need to save my brother." Eric stated making (Y/n) still in her work. "The blond?" She asked with worried eyes, pulling away from Eric when he nodded his head. "Uncle Tommy was taking him down into his basement when I was getting this." She pointed to the first aid kit. "Nothing but uncle Tommy comes outta there alive." She added in a quiet whisper, jumping when Eric began pulling on his retrains with all the strength he had left. "I'm sorry." (Y/n) whimpered softly before rushing out of the attic, leaving Eric to have some time to morn in peace. Hours went by, and when the sound of screaming erupted from below, Eric couldn't contain his anger. He screamed, he yelled, he beat the ground with his fists, his chains, anything he could get his hands on. All the while the Hewitt family listened from below, Charlie becoming more and more enraged by the minute. "(Y/n) go quiet that mutt of yours, or I'll do it myself!" Charlie barked at his daughter, who jumped before rushing up to the attic. "Eric please!" She called out over the ruckus he was making. "No those are my friends!" Eric yelled his face red and covered in sweat. "I know and I'm so sorry, but you're making daddy mad, you have to stop." She pleaded, squeaking in fright when he threw a lamp her way, which missed her by a foot or so.

"I don't give a damn about your father!" Eric hollered. "If you don't stop he's gonna kill you." (Y/n) tried to reason with him. "He's gonna kill me anyways!" Eric pulled at his chains again. "No he ain't, as long as you obey the rules, he won't kill you, I swear." (Y/n) approached him, stopping just out of his reach. "And what makes you so certain, huh?" Eric hissed through clenched teeth. "Because he doesn't like upsetting me, but if you push him over the edge, there's nothing I can do to stop him." She murmured softly, jumping when Eric rushed at her, the chains holding him back. It was only then that Eric took in her soft features, noticing just how easy she was on the eyes, especially compared to the rest of her family. Eric felt guilt flood into his heart, at the clear fear in her eyes, the jumpy-ness only confirming his subconscious suspicion. (Y/n) was just as much a prisoner here as he was, if not more so, having been stuck here far longer, without the chance of being put out of her misery. His lips parted to speak, but he was interrupted when Charlie barged into the room. "What did I tell-" He cut himself off with a laugh, taking in the sight before him. "Well well well, what do we have here?" He taunted his words causing a blush to bloom across (Y/n)'s cheeks, who stood frozen, her face only inches from Eric's. "I knew you two would get along just fine." Charlie snickered to himself before leaving the room once more. "Please Eric just do as I say, and I'll keep you safe." (Y/n) pleaded with him, smiling sadly when he nodded his head in agreement, giving up reluctantly for his and her sake, knowing deep down their was nothing else he could do for the others.

----

*I'm seriously tempted to write a short story series extending this even more. What do you think?

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slashbitch2 · 3 years

Text

Extra Complications

never expected to be crushing on an animated character but here we are

Next Chapter

It was sneaky. Perhaps cheating by some standards. But from your perspective, it was a damn good plan.

Ironically you'd seen the advertisement for the Alchemax internship right after being flung into a wall by the very same woman who'd likely approved the broadcast. Olivia Octavius, or Doc Ock as you ought to refer to her in costume. Though she'd given you little time to read up on 'how to apply', as moments later a car was thrown in your direction, which was very inconsiderate of her, but was also all the persuasion you needed.

At this point, you'd be willing to do anything if it contributed to thwarting her, surely, very evil plan. Of course you admired the woman for her general genius and eccentricity, but the constant unprovoked conflict was becoming tiresome. It felt as if she were trying to determine how much of a threat you posed, whereas, you liked to think your legacy as 'that Spider-Person who sometimes saves the day' was all the evidence necessary.

Honestly, you weren't certain as to what exactly her, no doubt, villainous plan entailed besides patrolling the streets in green swimming goggles and black spandex with ridiculous plastic tubes jutting out of her back. In fact, it was ridiculous that no one had made any attempt to stop her yet. Unlike your identity, kept secret by a more modest spandex suit, hers was public knowledge.

Sometimes, it seemed as though you were the enemy here.

Which is precisely why infiltrating her team of scientists was more than appropriate. You were about to single handily take down an international threat, one hidden in plain sight, but left untouched due to the company's vast money, leverage and prestige.

Someday the city would thank you for your many sacrifices. Specifically for voluntarily working another job without pay. Y/N Y/L/N, broke intern by day, friendly neighbourhood Spider-Person by night.

"Excuse me?" A voice called from the left, your vision of them obstructed by an inconveniently placed potted plant. "Are you the new intern?" The person stepped closer, briefly glancing up at you, then back down at a sheet of paper. "Y/N Y/L/N?" The woman's timid appearance hardly screamed villainous scientist, but then again, looks can be deceiving.

"Yes, that's me." You stood, reaching out to shake her hand.

She sighed in relief, shaking your hand a tad too enthusiastically. "Lovely to meet you. I'm Marie and I'll be getting you settled in for the first few days."

A spark of disappointment flashed across your mind. Olivia hadn't been there for your interview, nor had any sway in your hiring, and now she wasn't even the person greeting you on your first day. Although you had no right to be, you felt rather offended by the lack of challenge she was providing. It was almost too easy.

---

To be fair, Marie was the perfect candidate to give you a tour of the facility. She was kind and patient, but not condescending. She seldom spoke beyond what was required of her, unless you asked something work related, when her lengthy response would affirm her status as an epicure of scientific knowledge. By midday, you'd decided she was someone to befriend, and subsequently accepted her invitation to have lunch together.

You were also hoping that the team would eat lunch as a group, but alas, more disappointment. Instead, you spent the break sitting in an awkward silence with Marie, who seemed to loose basic communication skills when presented with food. In spite of her lack of engagement, you still took the opportunity to try and ascertain information about the project you'd be working on, though each time she expertly diverted the interrogation, or ignored your question entirely.

Who knew working for an evil, secretive corporation would be so boring?

It was a test of patience to be sitting in the same building as Olivia Octavius, while forced to shadow an incredibly kind, but slow eating woman. Realistically, you knew there'd be plenty of time to investigate, though you were reluctant to end the day without any progress. So, while Marie was still distracted by her lunch, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

She dismissively approved with a wave of her hand, allowing you to slip away from the dining hall. You vaguely remembered the location of Olivia's office as being on the top floor, indicated by Marie's imprecise pointing. She'd explained that very few had clearance to get in, but you'd already thought of a way to get passed the security.

Who aside from the highest ranking scientists had access to every room? Janitors, of course. Because, for some reason, cleanliness was more important than security.

It didn't take long to locate a cleaner, or much effort to pickpocket the security card. To be on the safe side, you even had an excuse ready: that the man had dropped it, that you were simply looking for him to return it. And if Olivia caught you in her office, well, she wouldn't (Spider-Senses and all). Again, it was almost too easy.

There was a minatory silence as you walked along the final corridor toward her office. Part of you felt as though this was some kind of elaborate trap, the repeated phrase 'too easy' coming to mind as you reached the door. Though the logical part of you must've known this was a fatuous suggestion, and took control.

With a final pause to confirm nobody was approaching, or was already waiting inside, you scanned the key card. The action was rewarded with a satisfactory beep, followed by the door sliding open so fast it appeared to have vanished.

The office was smaller than you anticipated. Or maybe it was the bareness of the room that caught you off guard. The woman was insane, yet her work area hardly reflected her deranged mental state. Everything was so perfectly neat that you began to wonder if you'd actually walked onto a movie set, or a photoshoot, which would've explained the strange ring lights hanging from the ceiling.

Upon reaching the centre of the room, you were struck by the realisation that you truthfully had no reason to be here. Even if the office had been as messy as you'd expected, it was unlikely that she'd leave her super evil plans lying around. Rather, It'd been some morbid curiosity that had lured you here. To see where The Doc Ock worked, where the alter ego was likely created. The reality was underwhelming to say the least.

Deciding that you'd spent enough time admiring an incredibly bland office, you exited back out into the empty corridor, nonchalantly throwing the security card behind you, certain someone would eventually return it. Then, as if right on cue, you sensed somebody approaching, soon followed by footsteps resonating from around the corner. With no way of avoiding them, you kept your head down with the intention of blending in.

Olivia Octavius rounded the corner, not sparing a glance up. She was frowning at a piece of paper, her full attention directed to it, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Instinctively, your entire body tensed at the sight of her lithe frame and mass of hair spilling out of its messy bun. Any other circumstance and you'd have fled by now, through a vent, out of the window, it didn't matter. Though you had to remind yourself that there was no reason to be afraid now. There was no possible way she could know your identity.

Nonetheless, as you passed her with less than a metre of space, you held your breath. She said nothing and you both kept walking in opposite directions.

It seemed the coast was clear. You released the breath you'd been holding and kept moving until. "Hey, wait a minute."

You froze, aching to ignore her and escape. Her voice was deep, more so than you were prepared for. While fighting, few words were exchanged, and even then they were unintelligible. Although, now was the worst time to be thinking about previous interactions, so with much difficulty, you cleared your mind. As far as anyone knew, including yourself, you were just the intern.

You ran a hand through your hair nervously, straightening out your lab coat and turning to face her. She was stood at the far end of the long white corridor, entirely unthreatening when compared to Doc Ock, who would've loomed over you menacingly.

Remembering the role you were meant to be playing, you choked out a response. "How can I be of assistance?"

"You're the new intern, right?"

"Yeah." You considered approaching to shake her hand, but the idea of awkwardly marching the length of the corridor to greet her was rather unappealing. "That's me." You settled for a polite smile and shoulder shrug instead.

She screwed up her face in consideration before crooking a finger. "Come with me."

Swallowing any concern, you nodded hesitantly. The prospect of returning to the office you'd broken into only moments ago had you dragging your feet.

She waited patiently until you were by her side to continue. "Don't worry." She scanned her key card. "I don't bite." Her tone was playful, her eyes kindly mocking.

"Good to know." You muttered, following her inside. You took a second to look around the room with mock curiosity, feeling her eyes trace your every move. Like a predator, eyeing up its prey, determining your weaknesses. Unlike the encounters with Doc Ock, it was uncertain who had the high ground here. Her gaze was putting you on edge, not dissimilar to how your character of 'the intern' would react.

"So..." She shuffled some papers around on the desk, finding what looked to be your application. "Ms. Y/L/N right?"

You confirmed with a nod, summoning the resolve to amble toward her desk.

"Take a seat." She gestured to the chair opposite, letting you sit before proceeding. "Tell me about yourself, Y/N."

You started to think of an adequate answer, but she interrupted a second later, contradicting her initial inquiry. "Are you okay with me calling you Y/N?" She leant her head on a closed fist, narrowing her eyes.

Although the question sounded considerate, you didn't feel the implied sincerity. Even if you wanted to say no, that didn't feel like a suitable response. "Sure."

Somehow, it felt like she was establishing dominance through the polite act, and combined with being under her scrutinising glare, the performance was working.

"Great." Suddenly, she leant back in her chair, all evidence of the hostile act disappearing instantaneously.

"What'd you want to know?" Mirroring her relaxed posture, you attempted to re-establish some control.

"Oh, anything." A flicker of something passed in her eyes, piqued interest possibly?

You began routinely rattling off some basic facts about yourself, nothing too specific or personal. Facts that would answer any follow up questions she might have, and yet said nothing about you. Surprisingly, she seemed hooked on your every word. The thought crossed your mind that this might be the real interview, that everything else up to this point had been a sham. But you settled on a more unsettling justification. That she was committing everything you said to memory.

Coming to the end of the informative monologue, you decided to take a risk. "Do I get to ask a question?" You raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"Inquisitive. I like that." She stated, folding her arms on the desk. "Go ahead."

You decided to see how far you could push your luck. "Tell me about yourself." You smugly repeated her vague first query. It was the Doctor's turn to come up with an answer to the ambiguous demand.

She scoffed, realising your plan to make her struggle. "Touché. But I'm rather busy, so how about you pick a more specific question."

Narrowing it down, there was only one thing you wanted to ask. "Can I see the-" You waved your arms around, imitating tentacles. "the suit?"

She chuckled, slowly standing. Judging from her lack of surprise, this was likely a request she'd heard many times.

First, she removed her glasses. Then slipped out of her lab coat. Next to go was the shirt, which she pulled over her head while maintaining eye contact. You wanted to look away, out of respect, yet you didn't. Without the shirt, you noticed she was already wearing the suit underneath and had the harness strapped to her back, confirming your suspicion that she always had access to the weapon. As she was stepping out of her trousers, the arms (tentacles?) inflated, and within moments were threateningly extending to their full potential.

She smiled proudly, enjoying your stunned expression. "As good as you expected?"

"Better." Unable to resist any longer, you stood to investigate the suit in further detail. You'd never seen it stationary, or had the opportunity to try and gauge the details of how it worked. Although you argued this would be beneficial for your next fight, in reality you just wanted to admire the contraption. You circled round, marvelling at the simplicity of the design. It was convenient, yet elegant. "It's beautiful."

Coming to a stop in front of Olivia, she had an unreadable expression. A mix of emotions, most prominently confusion. To your delight, a faint blush coloured her cheeks. Whatever unspoken game you'd been playing, you were winning, or were until she said. "How'd you like to intern for me?"

You quickly recovered. "I already do."

"No." She sighed. "I mean personally. As my assistant? You'd get your own desk, an almost guaranteed job at the end of it and so much more experience than you'd bargained for." She leant forward, a little too close for comfort. There was an unhinged look in her eyes more reminiscent of Doc Ock that both convinced and deterred you. "So what'd you say?"

She genuinely wanted you to work with her.

This hadn't been part of the plan. You'd expected to spend no longer than a few months working at Alchemax. To uncover their evil scheme, figure out how to stop it and hopefully take down the company. An optimistic plan, sure, but one you'd been assured you'd stick to. Although, the opportunity to work closely with Olivia Octavian, with the Doc Ock, was too good to pass on. Not to mention, infinitely more interesting.

You grinned, embracing the insanity that your answer would incur. "I'd love to."

She clapped her hands together. "Great!" Then offered her hand for you to shake formally. "I'll sort out the paperwork and details this evening, but right now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to."

She left before you had the chance to say anything else, still in her suit, which left you confused for the following half hour. You finally understood upon catching a glimpse of a news alert on your phone.

Doc Ock Seizes Bank, Has Taken Hostages!

You sighed. Today was going to be a long day, and things were only going to get more complicated.

#olivia octavius x reader #olivia octavius

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yolkyeomie · 3 years

Text

Humanity of the Inhuman | Kim Sunwoo

summary — legends are meant for the wild fantasies of the dream world, but when one myth suddenly comes true, you find yourself tangled within its webs of reality.

word count — 5.9k words

pairing — sunwoo x female!reader (ft x juyeon)

genre —college au, gumiho au

disclaimer —!! light mentions of death, blood, and injury !! lol happy birthday to my favorite writing muse in the world, sunwoo :)

part I | part II | part III | part IV?

You close the door behind you, a deep sigh falling out your mouth as you try to recount the events from today. Though you didn’t get very much time to yourself before you were rudely interrupted by banging coming from you bathroom door and an irritated voice shouting at you. “Hey! I know you’re here, I heard the door open and close! Are you going to let me out now or what?”

You glanced down the hall that led to the bathroom and saw the yellow paper talisman stuck on the door, completely untouched since you had placed it there to keep the gumiho in one place. “Wow, it actually works.” You mumble to yourself, slowly approaching the door knowing that the boy inside was struggling to escape.

You didn’t know how effective the talisman would be since nine tails were said to be rather powerful beings but it was truly working wonders to keep him in one place. Maybe he wasn’t very strong in reality? “Hey fox boy! I’ve got some questions, if you answer at least one of them I’ll let you out.”

You could hear the boy scoff from the inside, probably in disbelief that he was being held hostage by a human with no power to their name. “Doesn’t that sound fair?” You continued, “your freedom for information that I want, good deal right?”

“I don’t think I’m understanding correctly,” the boy began, slamming his fist against the bathroom door one last time to try and break free. You jumped back on instinct, the gumiho’s strength shaking the door on its hinges. Yet the paper talisman stood strong and refused to budge, making it hard for you to not break a smile a few moments later at the gumiho’s struggle. “What information could you, a human, possibly need from a gumiho, huh? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“I’m curious,” you admit, sitting down in front of the door and watching the boy’s shadow underneath the small gap in the door. “I'm taking mythology as a fun little elective class and we were just beginning to learn the lore behind nine tailed foxes, I just wanna see which type of myths are true and fake.”

“And you had to lock me,” the door handle jiggled for a moment to show the gumiho’s distress, “in your bathroom to do this?”

“You tried to kill me! What else was I supposed to do?” You complained, frustrated with the boy despite not even being face to face with him. “I was lucky enough to have a talisman sitting in my house that my parents had gotten me weeks ago! If I didn’t push you in there and put the talisman on the door, you probably would have eaten my liver or something.”

“I wouldn’t have eaten your liver,” the boy argued, a loud thump hitting the door as he spoke. It didn’t sound like a punch, more like he had put his back on the door and leaned ups against it. “Even if I wanted to, you made the dumb decision of saving me so now I’m in debt to you.”

“What? I’m sorry, can you run that back for a second?” You questioned, scooting up toward the door eagerly at this new piece of information. “What do you mean you're in debt to me?”

“The other day, when you told me you had saved me after I was attacked? You’ve binded me to you for doing me that favor, leaving me in debt to you. I cannot harm you while I’m debt to you unless I repay you for it.”

The silence between the two of you let a cold shiver run down your spine, though you were too busy processing the information he had given you. “It’s kinda like… an honor code but for gumihos. It was put in place by higher spirits in hopes of lessening the attacks caused by us. It never really worked though, no one dares to approach a fox in fear of being eaten.”

“I’m guessing that’s how it was centuries ago or something…,” you snorted, crossing your arms as you reminisced upon you accidentally stumbling across his injured body.

“Because no one tried, the message never got passed down to the next generations,” he explained, “so it’s become a lost piece of our mythos. Honestly I would have liked to keep it that way as well, but here you are bringing this rule back to fruition. Either way, I’m not going to kill you until I repay you, so there’s no need to keep me in here anymore.”

“You promise you’re not going to jump out and eat my liver the moment I open the door?” You questioned him, getting off the ground as you spoke.

The other side of the door was quiet for a moment before the boy finally answered, “you have my word.”

Cautiously, you put one hand on the door handle and took the talisman within the other. With silent prayer to any otherworldly being that might be watching you and the gumiho from above, you snatched the talisman off of the door and braced yourself for the unforgiving claws of the nine tailed fox you had trapped in your bathroom.

Though all you were greeted by was the grateful smile of the boy you had rescued, a hint of mischief sparkling in his ever changing amber eyes before settling to a deep dark brown to blend in with the mortals of your world. “That wasn’t that hard was it? Now if you excuse me—“

Before you even had the chance to retaliate, the boy darted between you and the door like a quick breeze in the air. He was much faster than you had anticipated, though it should have been expected from a creature such as a nine tailed fox. “Wait, where are you going? I had questions to ask!”

The boy stopped in his tracks, struggling to comprehend where the exit to your home was. He may have been in your house, but the most he had seen was your living room and bathroom. He cursed under his breath for finding himself trapped in an unfamiliar surroundings once again. You watched as the gumiho let out a deep sigh of frustration, turning around to face you with an annoyed yet sweet smile on his face. “Of course… the questions. How could I forget! Tell me, what is it that a human wants to know about gumihos?”

You held up the talisman as a warning sign, not knowing if it still had any useful power to it but it was definitely enough to get the nine tailed fox on his best behavior. “First off, who are you? Or more like… what’s your name? And why were you bleeding to death in rain when I found you?”

“Asking for a lot already, aren’t you?” He mumbled, snorting to himself as he threw himself onto your small couch. “My name is Sunwoo and as you know I am a nine tailed fox. As to why I was bleeding in that alleyway… I was attacked, like I told you before.”

“Okay, Sunwoo, I get that you were attacked but why?” You continued to pester, your curiosity of the gumiho’s situation overtaking your thoughts. The more he tried to hide what was going on, the more curious you became. Though you shouldn’t get close thanks to Juyeon, who knew what he’d do to you if you got closer. “A small argument doesn’t just lead into nearly murdering a person! Or well… fox.”

“My apologies…” he trailed off, looking to you for information.

“Y/N,” you answered him, “it’s Y/N.”

“My apologies, Y/N, but that sort of information is classified,” Sunwoo shrugged, flinching slightly as you threatened him with the talisman, “I just don’t think you’d want to involve yourself in gumiho business. It’s not something a human should be sticking their nose into either way.”

You roll your eyes at his excuse, pointing to yourself as you exclaimed, “have you already forgotten? I am your savior and you’re in debt to me! I should at least know why the victim was keeping attacked in the first place don’t you think? Just think of it as… you repaying your debt to me now.”

“That’s not how that works.” The boy explained, slightly cringing at your actions as he watched you place yourself upon a pedestal to ring information out of him. “I’m in debt to you, yeah, but it means I quite literally owe my life to you. You saved my life, now under whatever circumstances that might occur, I will save yours.”

“Tell me why happened, Sunwoo,” you urged, a little more aggressively this time.

“I stole a fox bead from another gumiho.” He admitted, crossing his arms as he leaned back into the couch. You could almost feel Sunwoo’s hair on his skin rise as he recalled the events prior, trying to decide what he wanted to say and what he’d keep from you. “They had found me and attacked in an attempt to get it back and as a result, left me there to die when they thought they had retrieved it. Luckily for me, they took a fake instead.”

“Fox bead?” You questioned, trying to wrack your head around in an attempt to remember if you had heard of such a thing before. Though you’re not sure if your mythology class had gotten far enough into your gumiho lesson to cover it. “What is that, fox beads?”

“It’s a bead for foxes, everyone has one,” Sunwoo teased, though quickly adding the actual explanation before you could threaten him again, “it’s a bead that provides most of the power and future knowledge that a gumiho could ever ask for, making them one of the most popular beings alive. The only way to obtain this amount, though, is by absorbing the energy of a human.”

“By kissing them?” You questioned, and Sunwoo nodded his head in reply. “My god, I can’t believe he was actually right…” you realized, recalling the information that Juyeon had given you. Nine tailed foxes feed off of a human’s existence, but who would have known they gain more power as a result of taking an innocent human’s life.

Instinctively, you cover your mouth as defense against Sunwoo, not completely trusting the gumiho as he laughed at you. “Have you already forgotten, Y/N? You’re my savior, I owe my life to you. I can’t harm you until that debt has been paid off.”

“Why would you steal a fox bead if every gumiho has one? Just go fill up your own bead you… sicko…” you glare, the vivid image of the gumiho in front of you snatching the life out of humans prevalent in your mind.

“I stole it because the gumiho who had this specific one had almost filled it all.” Sunwoo explained, he held his hand out for you to see as a flash of light sparked in his palms, an object beginning to form within his grasp as his eyes turned the same amber yellow as before. You watched as a glowing bead appeared in his hands, the same color as his foxish eyes and making a light jingle sound every time it moved.

“This is…,” you mumbled, mesmerized by such a beautiful crystal being presented to you.

“The fox bead, the nearly completed fox bead.” Sunwoo nodded. “There hasn’t been a fox bead of this variety in many, many millennia. If the gumiho I stole this from gets his hands on this again and gives it the last bit of human energy it needs? All hell will break loose. That’s what I stole it, or was instructed to steal it. A fox bead of this strength cannot be destroyed by just any gumiho, but by a—”

“Shut up for a second,” you interrupted him, putting the talisman down as inching closer to the fox bead. As the object moved around in Sunwoo hands, the jingling continued to get louder and louder in your head. It got to the point where it finally clicked in your head as to why you were drawn to fox bead in the first place. “I’ve heard this before, the ringing… jingling sound it makes.”

“The fox bead?” Sunwoo questioned, his eyes shooting up to yours at an alarming speed. When you nodded your head his amber yellow eyes snapped back to the natural dark browns and the fox bead disappeared from his hands. “What do you mean you heard the fox bead?”

“Before I found you, I heard jingling. Like… bells or wind chimes or something like that. I followed it because I was curious and it led me straight to you.” You explained yourself, recalling the events rather easily. “And it happened again earlier today when I was on the phone with my friend. It led me outside of my room which brought me straight to where you were. I guess what I was hearing all along was the fox bead.”

“Y/N…” he mumbled, struggling to father his thoughts as he spoke. “Y/N, the fox bead doesn’t make any noise. Or at least, humans cannot hear the jingling of a fox bead unless they are the gumiho’s next target. And we already know it couldn’t have been me because I’m in debt to you.”

You thought to yourself for a moment before replying, “are you saying that the gumiho you stole from… he was planning on using my energy to complete his fox bead?”

II.

“Okay, I understand this is a serious situation, but is all of this really necessary?” You turned your wary gaze toward Sunwoo, fidgeting with the sleeves of your jacket as you watched the boy wander not too far behind you.

Despite your cautious tone, the gumiho was a lot more relaxed than you were. Dressed brand new clothes you had bought specifically for him the day before, Sunwoo took in his surroundings with his keen dark eyes in search of the gumiho that was targeting you. “Of course it’s necessary. If I leave you to your own devices, the gumiho targeting you may try to strike and you will be gone before anyone finds out what happened… if they find out what happened that is.”

You shouldn’t be feeling this anxious about everything. After all you are on your turf, the college campus, and you have a mythical nine tailed fox following your move. You're more safe here than you could be anywhere else. Maybe it’s the fact that you can’t believe any of this is actually happening, it feels like you're in some sort of twisted fairytale than reality if you had to be honest.

Seriously, nine tailed foxes? Fox beads? Being the final victim for the beast? None of that is believable if you were simply hearing it but here you are experiencing it all.

“Well, at least don’t stick around so close,” you scold him, shooing him as far away as you could. “What if I come into contact with the nine tailed fox, and he sees you? He thinks you’re dead after all!”

“Actually...” Sunwoo trailed off, trying to word his next sentence as gently as possible. “Not exactly…? I mean… maybe like a day or two ago he would have believed I’m dead but—”

You stop in your tracks immediately, spinning on your heel to face the gumiho with a furious glint in your eyes, “—What do you mean ‘but’, Sunwoo?”

“It doesn’t take long for a gumiho to realize when they have a fox bead that’s not theirs,” he explained leaning up against the wall and fiddling with his hair as he spoke. “It’s an innate ability we all have, the one that the gumiho took was mine and that thing is completely empty. It was enough to give me time to get out of the city but then…”

“I found you and we figured out that the nine tailed fox was coming for me.” You finished off, wanting to curse yourself for ever stopping for the boy in the first place. You almost wish you didn’t get yourself involved with the nine tailed foxes, almost. “What's the point in doing all of this then?”

“It’s so I can find out where exactly the gumiho is hiding and keep him from you,” Sunwoo grinned, “and then stall him just enough so that I take his fox bead and destroy it.”

You stared at him for a few moments more before letting out an intensely deep sigh. For some reason, the plan that Sunwoo had created didn’t seem very fool proof. But what could you do? After all, you were the human and he was the gumiho. He knew a lot more about nine tailed foxes then you could ever imagine. He, unfortunately, held your life in the palm of his hands.

“Well you can’t stay beside me all of time,” you hissed, finally approaching the room that held your mythology class. “I don’t think I really want to explain to my class how I found and saved a nine tailed fox right after we started the course for your mythos.”

“You can let me in, it’s fine!” He grinned, trying to weasel his way past you and into the class before you could catch him. “I want to know what humans learn about gumihos! You know, give them a few pointers and let them know what’s true and what’s not true.”

“Sunwoo, no!” You snapped, your hands wrapping around his shirt collar and pulling him back as hard as you could. He lurched backward and nearly tumbled to the ground, shocked by your sudden burst of strength. “Are you really trying to keep me safe or are you in cahoots with the other nine tailed fox, him?”

The boy frowned at your accusations, forcing himself back into his feet as he opened his mouth, “Y/N—“

“Y/N!” You turned your head with neck breaking speed to see Juyeon approaching you from down the hall, his gleeful and generous smile beaming down on you once he got your attention. In a panic you turned back to Sunwoo, wanting to give your last attempt at shooing him away before realizing he had disappeared within an instant. The last hint of the gumiho’s mere existence was the faint jingle of the fox bead he had stolen echoing in your ears, so at least you knew he was still around.

You spun on your heels to face Juyeon as relaxed as possible, anxiously fumbling with your hands as he stopped in front of you. “You’re rather early aren’t you? Who were you talking to?”

“I was on the phone,” you quickly responded, your mind running miles as you tried your best to give him an excuse, “with Kevin! He was just checking up on me after the whole… spirits in my house fiasco.”

“Oh, I remember you coming to me about that,” he nodded, nervously adjusting the bag slung over his shoulder. “Are you okay actually? You never gave me an update on the sounds you were hearing and it… worried me, I guess.”

You slowly begin to smile at Juyeon’s kindness, jokingly punching him in the shoulder as you said, “aw, how sweet! Checking up on your good ol’ school friend, huh?”

“School friend…,” he trailed off, hesitating for a moment before smiling at you with the tips of his ears burning a slight shade of red. “Of course I’m worried about my school buddy! Mythology isn't fun without you there with me after all.”

You pat his back in reassurance, “don’t worry, everything is fine for the most part. Though…,” you stopped, wondering how you could discreetly mention Sunwoo’s existence and his warning of you being hunted by a nine tailed fox to the boy. Did you need to tell him actually? None of that was actually of Juyeon’s concern. But… he did say he was worried about you.

“If I needed to go somewhere… somewhere away from my home…,” the jingling from the past few days echoed in your ears as you spoke to him. The fox bead, Sunwoo, was nearby again. You should finish this conversation as quickly as you could. “Would you open your dorm to me? Just for like a day or so! I wouldn’t overstay—“

“Of course!” He blurted, his eyes wide with glee but quickly glistening over with embarrassment. Juyeon cleared his throat as he tried to continue the conversation as normal as he possibly could. “I mean— uh— I’d be happy to, don’t worry. I’d have to clean up a lot and move Hyunjae out so he won’t bother you so just… make sure to give me a heads up, okay?”

You blinked once, then twice, then once more just in case you were seeing what you were seeing. After a few moments of awkward silence after the boy’s rambling, you grinned at him. “Why didn't you question me for not asking Kevin first?”

“I…,” Juyeon struggled to reply, his face flushing as he realized what he had done. “You’re my school friend, Y/N! I’m going to help you when I can, of course. What type of friend would I be if I didn’t?”

You couldn’t tell if the awkward silence between the two of you was because of Juyeon’s terrible lie or the fact that both of you were still astonished by what came out of his mouth. Though you didn’t have time to ponder on it any longer when the fox bead jingled in your ears again and the boy finally piped up, “I’m gonna go ahead and head inside now. See you, Y/N, in like… three minutes or something, I don’t know—“

“—I’m gonna make a call back to Kevin first,” you added on, finally gaining control over your body again as you pulled out your phone and gestured to it. “I’ll see you in a bit.”

He nodded a few more times than needed before skipping into the mythology class, not even daring to look back at you as he disappeared within the class. You couldn’t tell whether Juyeon’s genuinely just being his normal kind self to you or if his actions were motivated by something deeper, you honestly didn’t want to find out at the moment. Not when there was a gumiho out for your head at the moment.

“Alright, Sunwoo, you can come out now—“ your breath hitched as you felt a hand tug aggressively at your wrist, practically snatching you away from the doors to your mythology classroom and into a more secluded hallway.

When you looked up Sunwoo loomed over you, his dark eyes turning into its mystic amber yellow and his nails digging into your skin as his grip grew tighter and tighter. “Are you crazy?” He questioned, though the jingle of the fox bead he had stolen nearly drowned out his voice. “Why were you talking to him?”

“Juyeon?” You question, yanking your arm away from him and taking a giant step away from him. “He’s… he’s my friend, why would I not talk to him? I’ve been taking this class with him since the semester started. He’s a good guy, don’t worry about him.”

“He’s not some good guy, Y/N,” Sunwoo warned, holding out his fist for you to see. Curiously you watched as the fox bead began to form in the palm of his hand, gleaming a much brighter light and practically pulsing with the energy of humans trapped within it. For something so morbid, you sure found it beautiful. “Juyeon is a gumiho, why are you trusting him?”

“Huh?” You respond, unsure of whether or not you had actually heard him correctly. “I’m sorry, repeat that one more time for me.”

“Lee Juyeon,” Sunwoo answered, reciting his full name without you even needing to tell him, “is a gumiho, the very gumiho I stole this fox bead from. Juyeon is targeting you.”

III.

“Y/N!” Sunwoo yelled, banging his fist against the bathroom door like he had been doing for the past couple of days. He was in time out for telling such a ridiculous lie and assuming you’d believe him right off of the bat just because he was a mythical creature. “Y/N, why are you being like this? Can you at least talk to me again.”

You didn’t respond as you laid face first on your couch, struggling to block out the gumiho’s voice from your head. Did he really think you’d believe that Juyeon, the boy you’ve known for nearly the entire semester, was a gumiho? Nine tailed foxes may be master manipulators, but there were some lies that were outrageous enough for even the most simpleminded folk to see past.

“Y/N, you can’t keep me in here forever! Juyeon will come after you when least expect it and—“

“Shut up!” You finally snapped, grabbing a hold of one of the cheap decorative pillows laid across your couch and throwing it as hard as you physically could at the bathroom door. Though the pillow only made it halfway across the room before crashing to the ground without a sound, leaving your sigh of frustration to fill the gap left by the silence.

“I just… I don’t understand. You humans make no sense at all! Why is it so hard to accept the fact that Juyeon is a gumiho?” Sunwoo complained, forcing you to get off the couch and march your way toward the bathroom door. “You wanted to figure out why you heard the fox bead make noise and now you have your answer, Juyeon has been targeting you this entire time! Why are you defending him so hard—“

You snatched the talisman off the door and swung the door open with the ferocity of a tiger, taking the nine tailed fox off guard and watching him stare up at you with a wide eyed and frazzled expression. “Maybe I’m defending him so hard because I’ve been him much longer than I’ve known you! Juyeon has been nothing but… but sweet and kind to me all semester, he’s been looking out for me for who knows how long, and you just want me to believe that he’s out to take my life?”

Sunwoo blinked at your words before vigorously nodding his head, “yes, of course!”

An angry growl of frustration escaped your mouth, getting ready to slap the talisman back on the door and lock the nine tailed fox back inside. “Aren’t gumihos literally trickster spirits? I can’t believe I’ve believed everything that’s come out of your mouth so far. Who knows how many times you’ve already lied to me? Next thing I know you’re going to try and eat my livers when I least expect it!”

However the boy was much more sly and quicker than you could have ever been, so he easily slipped out of the way before you could do so, “I thought I already explained I’m not going to kill you? I physically cannot do so. I have an honor code to follow, genius!”

“How do I know that’s not a lie too, hm?” You questioned, crossing your arms like a child as you walked away from him. “You have no proof of this… this nine tailed fox honor code. How should I trust the words that come out your mouth, hm?”

Sunwoo frowned, the corners of his mouth going as low as they possibly could. “Do you like him or something? Suddenly all the trust we’ve built up has crumbled into nothingness, it’s really getting on my nerves.”

“I do not like Juyeon, he’s just a really good friend!” You shouted, retaliating sharply to the nine tailed fox. The boy nodded his head slowly, clearly not believing your words and rolling his eyes not long after. “But the stuff you’re saying? Unbelievable, this entire situation is unbelievable as is!”

“How do I make you believe what I say, without you accusing me of being a ‘master manipulator’?” Sunwoo mocked, though genuinely trying to find a solution to your disagreement. “I could tell you that I can’t lie to save my life, but you’d think that’s me trying to manipulate you or something again. You know, not all gumihos are good at lying! Some of us are—“

“Prove it,” you demanded, gesturing around your living room as you waited for him to respond. “Prove that you’re not going to harm me and prove that Juyeon is actually a nine tailed fox. I need cold hard facts and visual evidence before I can go on and trust you with my life again.”

“Y/N,” Sunwoo whined, trying to get you to let him off the hook just this one time. Yet you shook your head, sat down on the couch, and simply waited for him to somehow prove he wasn’t just being the stereotypical nine tailed fox she had been learning.

“Go on,” you urged him, “I’m waiting.”

The gumiho looked around in a frenzy, unsure of what exactly he could do to win your trust. You sat and watched him struggle, trying to wrack your own brain around why you had trusted Sunwoo so easily. Was it because you found him while he was injured and dying? But you should never trust strangers in the street anyway, whether they were at death’s door or not!

Maybe it was that cursed fox bead, it’s soft ring echoing in your ears and clouding your judgement each time you needed to make a decision. Were you even sure that the fox bead wasn’t actually his? He could have been lying about that whole situation too…

“I got it!” Sunwoo exclaimed, catching you off guard and shaking you from your thoughts. You look up to see the boy holding his hands out in front of him, his eyes beginning to shift into that familiar amber yellow and an object forming in his hands.

“Hey! No gumiho powers can be used!” You yelled, leaping up from your seat to stop him. Though the gumiho only stepped out of the way, raising his hands straight up so that you couldn’t reach him. “How do I know that it doesn’t amplify your ability to manipulate or not?”

“This can’t be done without the power of a gumiho in the first place,” he hissed, lowering his hands once the stolen fox bead finally materialized in his hands. “Do you want me to prove that I can’t harm you or what?”

You hesitate for a moment and a large smile begins to grow across Sunwoo’s face. “Then this is the only way I can prove it to you. I’ve told you once before that the fox bead is used to absorb human energy, so I’m going to use it on you to show that I genuinely cannot hurt you.”

“Use the fox bead on me…?” You repeat, letting his words slowly process before Juyeon’s words begin to blare through your head. “Wait… doesn’t that require like… kissing me? No, absolutely not! What if this is just a plow to kill me or something?”

“Y/N,” Sunwoo held the fox bead in his hands, it’s glow shining through the crevices of his hands as he spoke, “do you trust me?”

“No!” You quickly replied, “no, I do not!”

“Perfect, that’s the whole point of us doing this then!” He grinned, opening his mouth and dropping the fox bead in like a piece of candy. “It’ll be like two seconds, don’t worry! Well, it’ll feel like two seconds depending on whether or not the fox bead actually absorbs your energy...”

“Sunwoo!” You snap, finding yourself trapped behind the couch and the nine tailed fox in front of you. He took two enthusiastic steps forward before you put your hands in front of you, pushing him to arms length as you quickly spilled, “are you sure this is the way we have to do this? Can you figure out any other way?”

“No I can’t,” Sunwoo hissed between clenched teeth, urging you to put your hands down. “Can we please get this over with so that we can move on to other things? This will take like two seconds.”

“Ugh, fine!” You finally comply, tapping your lips and growling out, “let’s just… get this over with, if you end up actually killing me with this I will haunt you in the afterlife!”

The gumiho leaned in close, his hands hovering over your shoulders and his breath fanning across your face while the sparkle of the fox bead glistening in the corner of your eye. It gleamed in between the roof of his mouth and tongue before you no longer could catch sight of its glow, Sunwoo’s lips pressed fully onto yours without warning of his sudden roughness.

You yelp at his actions but it was entirely eaten up by the gumiho pressing his hands into you, engulfing the fleeting moment as quickly as he could. Somehow you found the strength to separate yourself from him, taking a moment to inhale just once and let out a “Sunwoo—“ before the boy dove right back in again.

He moved from your shoulders to cup your face in his hands while his weight pushed the both of you onto the couch below. You were practically drowning in the gumiho’s desires, too engrossed in Sunwoo’s kiss to notice the fox bead rolling out of his mouth into yours. Though the boy pulled back suddenly, breaking kiss and leaving the two of you breathless and in silence. If you didn’t have the willpower to hold yourself back, you probably would have pulled him back in again… how embarrassing.

His amber yellow eyes twinkled for a moment before shifting back into its illusion of a dark brown and he finally spoke to break the stillness of your home, “look to the sky, look to the land, and then look the people,” Sunwoo explained, having deep breaths after each sentence, “then swallow the fox bead.”

You didn’t get a chance to reply before the gumiho kissed you again, filling you up with the same adrenaline from not even a few seconds ago then retaking the fox bead from your mouth. You blinked a few times to bring yourself back to reality, wanting to ground yourself before speaking another word out your mouth, “why?”

“That’s how you defend yourself against a gumiho and destroy the fox bead all together.” Sunwoo responded, rising off of the couch and taking a few steps away from you. “The only reason you didn’t feel your energy being drained was because that wasn’t my fox bead and I am obligated to protect you, not harm you. You just need to know in case Juyeon takes his back and comes for you.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me instead of—,” you cut yourself off, covering your mouth with your hands and hoping desperately that Sunwoo didn’t catch the intense burning of your ears or beating of your heart, “instead of… showing... me...”

Sunwoo grinned, a grin so eerily similar to a real fox that you almost scoffed. “Because you thought I was manipulating you and wanted me to prove my innocence. Oh and don’t worry about me proving Juyeon is a gumiho, I’ve got something planned that will help.”

He stopped talking for a moment, licking his lips as you finally found the strength to sit upright on the couch and turned his piercing dark eyes toward you. “Of all the things, I didn’t expect you to taste like strawberries? How… interesting.”

112 notes · View notes

mbti-notes · 3 years

Note

So, I'm an INTJ who often (especially in the past) have tried to be open and supportive to friends and an ex of mine when it comes to certain problems. I noticed that I often jump to trying to solve their problem for them or offering suggestions and end up neglecting their emotional needs in the end—there's maybe a 50% chance that I was helpful at all. The other alternative is accidentally being taken advantage of and used as a crutch, which I'm luckily done with. Is there any better way to help out when I can hardly understand how a friend feels outside of just being frustrated or anxious?

Practical information and advice about handling emotional needs is already covered in the Emotional Well-Being section, please read. I will use your question as an opportunity to elaborate on the concept of helping, since people often ask about it.

Being able to help effectively is not just one particular skill but a set of skills. I use the word “skills” because they can be learned as long as one has the motivation to study, practice, and improve. Most people know that helping skills are invaluable in a variety of professional and personal contexts. I would also argue that helping skills are essential for personal growth because they play an important role in overcoming the self-inflicted limitations of egocentrism in the process of ego development.

1. Empathy Skills

To be an effective helper, the first thing you need is a decent level of emotional intelligence. This involves having good emotional awareness, knowing how to identify and label feelings and emotions correctly, and knowing how to express feelings and emotions constructively. It is very difficult to understand the emotional life of others when you aren’t even able to understand your own or, worse, when your own emotional life is stunted, repressed, unstable, or dysfunctional. Work on improving your emotional intelligence and, if necessary, learn through healing your own emotional issues and wounds. If you suffer from all sorts of unaddressed or unresolved emotional issues swirling around in your unconscious mind, you are very likely to project them onto people, which will handicap or undermine your attempts to help them.

From having a healthy emotional life, you are able to practice the emotional empathy that is necessary for having a caring and helpful attitude. In human beings, empathy is a very natural emotional response to suffering, due to our evolutionary history of being a cooperative species. Unless you have neurological damage/deficits, you should be capable of feeling bad when you see someone else feeling bad, if only because you know how shitty it is to experience badness. That is the basis of empathy in a nutshell.

I use the phrase “practice empathy” because, when life is busy or too self-involved, it is all too easy to brush others off. Worse, some people are very averse to negativity and actively suppress their empathy so that they never have to feel guilty. Suppression of feeling, taken to extremes, may lead to callousness or aggression. Practicing empathy means that you actually stop and take the time to get in touch with your empathy, to really feel it, whenever you witness suffering. By actively deepening your empathy, you have a natural source of motivation to lend a helping hand.

Emotional empathy is how you nurture your moral character and moral virtues, i.e., to become an ethical, kind, caring, and compassionate person. By contrast, cognitive empathy is about having the ability to construct an accurate theory of mind and using it to assess human problems carefully, so that your solutions take into consideration how each vested party will be impacted. Another term that people use fairly synonymously with cognitive empathy is perspective taking. It involves putting yourself into another person’s shoes in an effort to understand: how they think, what they feel and why, what motivates them, what they need and desire, and the behavioral strategies that they are using to achieve their goals. The assumption is that, when you understand someone’s perspective more fully, you are better positioned to respond appropriately and effectively.

One of the reasons that people are drawn to type theory is because it offers insight into important and legitimate differences between people. Different people have different priorities, needs, and goals based on their cognitive functional stack and their life circumstances. This should always be taken into consideration when you’re trying to help. One of the most common pitfalls in helping people is operating on the assumption that they are similar to you, which leads you to overlook differences and apply the wrong kind of help. When you’re trying to construct a theory of mind, type theory gives you a leg up by opening up your mind to different possibilities and pointing you in useful directions for investigation. For example, if you are N and the other person is S, then you start off by understanding that your way of perceiving situations is very different from theirs, perhaps completely opposite, which should give you pause and force you to learn more about their cognitive process.

Emotional empathy and cognitive perspective taking must go together, otherwise, one or the other may lead you very astray. Emotional empathy, on its own, isn’t enough for being a good helper. In fact, some people have very strong emotional empathy and make situations even worse because they just act immediately on their feelings without any consideration for the consequences. For example, some people reflexively jump to defend perpetrators of violence because they empathize with them more than the victims. Cognitive perspective taking, on its own, isn’t enough for being a good helper. In fact, many people use their perspective taking ability to cheat, swindle, or manipulate for selfish gain. For example, con artists and snake oil salesmen often prey on people’s fears and insecurities to turn a profit. Thus, treat emotional empathy and cognitive perspective taking as equally important but separate abilities.

2. Relationship Building Skills

While empathy is useful for building moral character and perspective taking is useful for constructing an accurate theory of mind, the key to helping is learning how to apply these concepts within the context of relationships. You may feel deep empathy but fail to help. For example, you just freeze up like a deer in headlights once you see someone crying and sobbing in front of you. You may have an accurate theory of mind but still approach the situation the wrong way. For example, you correctly pinpointed your toddler’s fear of large crowds, but your paternalistic approach is to throw them into the middle of a huge crowd and force them to deal alone.

To avoid these kinds of problems, you should always approach helping as a collaboration. Collaboration means that two people put their minds together for a shared purpose. To collaborate well with someone requires two things:

i) Trust: Trusting someone means that you believe they have your best interests at heart. To trust is to have an open heart, which means that you give people the benefit of the doubt. Trust is very important when you’re trying to give advice. If someone trusts you and gives you the benefit of the doubt, they are better able to understand your intention even if you say the wrong thing or offer unhelpful advice. Trust helps to quickly smooth over misunderstandings or miscommunications by reminding us that people are good and mean well.

ii) Rapport: Positive rapport means that two people are able to communicate comfortably because they care about each other as well as speak freely because they do not have undue fear of judgment or punishment. Good rapport puts everyone at ease, which helps to maintain an open mind. Rapport is very important when you’re trying to give advice. If you have positive rapport with someone, they will be more open to entertaining new ideas and solutions. Positive rapport makes problem solving a more easygoing and even enjoyable process.

Needless to say, if you don’t have someone’s best interests at heart, then you should stay out of their business until you do. Helping someone should ultimately come from a place of care. Different people have different trust thresholds (often due to past trauma), so you may have to work harder to earn some people’s trust than others. To earn trust means to prove to someone that you care about them and can be relied upon. This generally involves being attentive to their needs, offering support when needed, honoring your relationship duties and responsibilities, and keeping your promises.

Needless to say, if someone doesn’t feel comfortable talking to you, then you shouldn’t try to force them. Make an honest judgment about whether you’re the best person to help them or not. If you’re not the one, you can still offer help, but don’t get offended if they don’t take you up on it. Different people have different conditions to be met before they feel comfortable enough to share their private business, so you may have to work harder to develop rapport with some people than others. Positive rapport is basically good communication, so work on your communication skills as needed.

Learn the sorts of words and behaviors that help put people at ease. Learn to listen intently, patiently, and empathetically. Learn to pause and ask the right questions when you don’t understand. Learn to offer feedback in a kind and constructive way. Learn to be less judgmental, impatient, or critical, i.e., the kinds of traits that cause conflict, distance, and fear in relationships. Learn to avoid prejudice and mindreading, i.e., the kinds of behaviors that cause harmful and gross misunderstandings between people.

3. The Helping Process

Once you’ve used your empathy and perspective taking skills to establish a good foundation of trust and positive rapport with someone, then you are well-positioned to help them. Always remember that human affairs are an art - not a science. Humans are complex and each one of us unique. There’s no “methodology” that you can follow perfectly to handle every relationship perfectly. A big part of being successful at relationships is simply to be adaptable. Observe and listen more carefully so that you know when it’s time to change your approach.

That said, there are some general guidelines that will help steer you in the right direction whenever you feel lost. Professional counselors are specifically trained to help people with their problems, so there’s a lot we can learn from their training process. I will summarize and adapt a commonly used three stage model of helping that anyone can apply to their relationships:

Stage 1: Gather the Facts

The person experiencing the problem is the one who knows it best. Therefore, the first step isn’t to panic about “what should I do”, rather, always start by getting them to elaborate, in as much detail as possible, so that you understand the situation fully from their point of view. Ask several open-ended questions to give them the opportunity to freely describe the situation, what happened, what may be causing the problem, how they feel about it, what they have or haven’t done about it, etc. After hearing them out, summarize the situation in your own words and ask them to confirm whether you’ve understood everything. The key skills needed in this stage are curiosity, listening, and verifying.

Stage 2: Encourage Awareness and Insight

Oftentimes, people aren’t able to tackle a problem on their own because they don’t know exactly what the problem is - look into their mind and you will see a giant mess. Giving them a chance to express their thoughts and feelings out loud is sometimes enough for them to understand the problem and come up with their own solutions. You should always encourage people to think for themselves whenever they show the tendency, because ideas always stick better when they come from oneself. This also addresses the problem of people becoming too dependent on you. Ideally, the goal of any good helper is to eventually make themselves obsolete, by teaching people to stand on their own.

If after elaboration, you’re still not clear about what they need, then be more direct in getting that information, usually through making more direct inquiries. What you do at this point really depends on the situation and the kind of problem you’re dealing with. It may be enough to ask them whether there’s anything you can do to help and, if so, what would be the best way to help. They might say that they’re not looking for a “fix” but simply want someone to listen, then step back and listen with empathy. You may ask them point blank what exactly it is they need or want. You may ask them what they hope or wish for. You may ask them about what objectives or goals they’re aiming for. You may ask them about the obstacles and challenges they’re experiencing. You may ask them whether they would like your help in analyzing the problem.

Don’t make assumptions about what they need when they haven’t even expressed their needs, which means that you should NOT be stepping forward with a “solution” until you’re absolutely sure that it’s what they want. The key skills needed in this stage are providing emotional safety, encouraging people to reflect more deeply, and inquiring into psychological motivations.

Stage 3: Implement Action

This step is only relevant if they are committed to solving the problem and want your help with it. Collaborate with them to analyze the problem by determining its cause(s), entertain various ideas and solutions, and make a list of all the choices available to them. Help them evaluate their list of choices by illuminating the possible effects/outcomes, pros/cons, or cost/benefits. This will allow them to make a more informed and intelligent choice.

Remember that they are ultimately responsible for choosing what to do - not you. Even the best advice will fall flat if the person doesn’t feel like they can carry it out. THEY have to feel comfortable enough with the choice to put it into action. This means that you must always have an eye on their comfort level. When someone expresses any kind of uncertainty about whether they can implement a solution, it is often a subtle request for more/better support. If that’s the case, go back to stages 1 and 2 to dig deeper into what’s holding them back. It may be an internal or external obstacle, and once you’ve identified it, you can help them remove it.

To implement an idea usually requires coming up with a practical plan, strategy, or method of attack, so help them draw a feasible roadmap. Set up concrete measurements or benchmarks to measure progress or success. Sometimes, they may need your help to break a big plan down into smaller steps in order to avoid feeling anxious or overwhelmed. Sometimes, they may need you to educate, guide, or mentor them to learn new knowledge for overcoming a particular challenge or obstacle. Remember that what seems easy to you may be very difficult to them, so don’t make assumptions about their capabilities. Monitor their progress and offer the appropriate support whenever you observe that they are faltering. The key skills needed in this stage are brainstorming, critical analysis, planning and organizing, quantifying progress, encouraging people to improve, knowledge building, and providing emotional support as necessary.

4. Boundaries, Boundaries, Boundaries

It’s very important that you maintain proper boundaries when helping people. You are not a professional counselor and, even if you are, there should always be a sense of equality and reciprocity in personal relationships. A healthy relationship cannot be one-sided, unequal, or exploitative.

Respect Your Boundaries: You must have your boundaries to protect yourself from exploitation. There are many people out there who have no qualms about taking advantage of kindness, so don’t allow such people to worm their way into your life. Only get involved when someone genuinely needs your help and you are quite confident that they will benefit from it. Remember that helping should ultimately set people up to be independent. If you keep people dependent on you, then there’s some ego problem that needs to be addressed on your part.

Respect Their Boundaries: Remember that everyone has their own life to live. Honor and appreciate individual differences. You may enjoy helping people and that’s fine, but there must be an element of selflessness in your help, so that you don’t get too invested in what other people do/don’t do. Once you start to place unreasonable expectations on people, you get yourself all mixed up into their problem, and then you start to show visible frustration, impatience, or disappointment. Then they might start to fear disappointing you and hide from you, they might start resisting your advice, or your help might even backfire spectacularly. In other words, your “help” just complicates and even worsens situations when you can’t properly respect people’s right to make their own choices in life.

To set proper boundaries circles back to the first point of having good emotional intelligence. You have to be aware of your part in the situation, the effects that you’re feeling, the effects that you’re producing, and monitor for negative feelings and emotions that would lead you to do something regrettable or harmful. Having good emotional intelligence is very important for good decision making in relationships and even life in general. I’ve already provided articles and book suggestions for learning in depth.

#helping #emotional needs #needs #emotional intelligence #empathy #compassion #boundaries #trust #rapport #communication #perspective taking #ask

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sarcasticallydrowning · 3 years

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Hey. Could I get a matchup, if that's not a bother?

My pronouns are he/they/it, I'm genderfluid and transmasculine. I don't like it when people call me by my name, or any name in general, I prefer nicknames. I like men and m-aligned people.

I have shoulder length messy hair of dark brown color. I'm 5'4. I have pretty wide shoulders and hips, and though they make me uncomfortable sometimes, I mostly enjoy how it looks. I usually wear baggie clothing to hide my waist.

My MBTI is INTP, my enneagram type is 6w5. Im a Scorpio.

I may seem distant and cold at first, but I try my best to act approachable. Though sometimes i do glare at people for some reason, wish I knew why. Around my friends I'm more loose and let my guard down, but not enough to not be wary of their intentions. I like to make people laugh. My jokes are mostly complaints and threats that were worded unusually, which isn't really funny but people seem to enjoy it. I'd say I'm observant, but not enough to create a set conclusion or opinion, so I never voice what I see or hear, unless its neccessary or is obvious but unnoticed for some reason.

I prefer to keep my attitude under control (due to abandonment issues), but if someone doesn't take my advice (which isnt really advice, it's common sense) and then in the end gets hurt in any way, I get really mad.... which is kind of my way of showing concern, haha. I also hate it when people keep complaining about something repeatedly. And I cant stand kids, dont even get me started. I have to babysit four of my nephews and I can't do this anymore. I hate when people shove their responsibilities onto me, especially if I get nothing in return for them.

I like to draw and write in my free time, but I'm yet to find something I'm truly passionate about. Not much really interests me. I wish to find something to light a spark in me.

That should be it.. Thanks a lot, in advance. Take care, Dmitry.

before I even start the matchup I'd say that we are really similar in alot of ways. we both have that weird glare we give to people, let loose around our friends, observant, I keep my attitude undercontol, I can't stand kids either but i babysit my 3 nieces, I like art and writing but still cant find something I'm passionate about.(also if you ever want to talk about anything please dm me I would like to help you in any way I can! you take care as well anon!)

anyhoo

Your Matchup is: Porco Galliard!

he would enjoy your time before your relationship as friends, he likes how you're not too pushy to be in relationships. honestly he doesnt mind if your impatient, quiet, or even introverted(going of your personality type) he gives you time to yourself when you need it, he also doesnt mind if you dont want to hang out all the time, he would definitely understand. he doesnt want to run you off. so if you need anything please dont hesitate to tell him those types of things(but if your not comfortable with it that's fine too.) he likes when you let loose around him and drop your guard. he really just wants you to feel comfortable around him. he likes to ask you for advice and actually does it instead of ignoring it. he likes how observant you are, even if you cant always come to a conclusion he wants to hear it. he finds it fascinating how you can come up with things like that(he isnt the most rational thinker lol). he isnt really a complainer he just takes what he is given and holds it deep down(yeah he holds grudges but doesnt really show it). he doesnt really mention the kids around you that ofter(aka like gabi,falco, and zofia) he doesnt want to make you mad/uncomfortable. he wont want to put too much pressure on you for no reason at all. he likes to watch you draw he also asks about what you're writing all the time. I feel like the whole relationship dynamic between the two of you is held up by trust, and comfortability.

#askdmitry 💌#aot #anime #attack on titan #aot anime #porco galliard #porco aot #snk #snk porco #aot season 4 #aot matchups

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heresathreebee · 4 years

Text

Garrote part 3

[Starz Power Diego Jimenez X Jazmine Mann (Black!OC)]

Word Count: 2,700 words

Warning(s): Rated Mature, language, partying, mentions of sex and drugs. Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I am constantly mere clicks away from releasing everything I have at once but I know if I do I will lose momentum for the plot.

Edit: I. Forgot. The tags again.

@nicke0115 @1zashreena1 @mental-bycatch

The week that followed was heaven and hell. Diego went back to throwing parties nightly, fucking girls coked out of his mind, and in general trying to forgot all about Healy and his pretty bait, but Tommy Eagan was threatening war over a dead partner unless Alicia met his ridiculous demands. Thanks to Tommy's new right hand man, there was an opportunity to gain instead of lose now. All they had to do was wait and see if Dre could pull through.

There were two new numbers in Diego's phone. One unsaved that sent cryptic messages about their deal, and the other marked as an emoji rather than a name. Jazmine's texts seemed forced– like she was reaching out on behalf of Healy's instructions. So of course Diego elected to simply ignore them both. They were buzzkills anyways.

Diego was showing something important on his phone to his sister when Jazmine sent another text.

Remember when you scared off Haagen? I miss that every time I see him.

On the other end of the line, Jazmine felt pathetic sending the text. Healy hadn't even asked her to write this time, she was just so… bored. She hadn't been sleeping well, pulling double shifts involuntarily since her boss found out she closed the store when her coworker didn't show up. She carried her stress in her shoulders– the tightness in her neck caused her daily migraines and there was a new pinching sensation between her shoulder blades to accompany the rest of her pain. In the shower, she massaged whatever she could reach and thought of Diego's big hands doing it for her.

She literally shook herself to clear the thought and pelted the shower curtain with water in the process. Diego Jimenez wasn't some faux bad boy with a secret soft side– he was the leader of a cartel. If he hadn't killed people himself, he definitely had people killed for him. He was beyond dangerous to even fantasize about.

DING-DING.

Her phone called out to her from the bathroom counter and she realized it was past time to get out. Her fingers were pruned to the point of over-sensitivity and there was a rapidly closing window to apply the leave-in conditioner to the best of its use. Still, she wiped her hands on the towel to read the text.

Come out and party. Wear something nice.

Alicia boxed his ear over the last sentence but he brushed her off. Jazmine declined anyways claiming exhaustion and went to bed. There were people to socialize with already– what was the absence of one little minimum wage laborer going to do? Apparently she was important enough to occupy a corner of Diego's head. He was still bent about the way she had reacted to his identity. Who the hell did she think she was? As they discovered in the ungodly hour after the party ended, she was also important enough to drag Healy out of whatever hole he hid in.

"Diego, we need to talk."

Alicia had gone home– Diego expected she would likely never attend another one of her brother's parties as it wasn't her brand of debauchery– and she'd cleared the place out in her disgust, so his penthouse was empty for once.

"What's the matter," Diego poured himself yet another drink, "am I not being a good boyfriend?"

"We don't care what you do when you're not operating," Healy reprimanded. "But we need you to cooperate. Be a presence in Jazmine's fake life. You've been established as a rival for her affections, and you need to become an obstacle standing between the bait and the target. Jazmine walks home from work every single morning by herself. I don't know if you noticed it's been pouring buckets for three days straight."

Healy almost sounded like he was shaming Diego. It wasn't his fault she was poor. She wasn't his real girlfriend and therefore not his real problem. "Please don't make me regret making this deal, Diego. We will never get an opportunity to dismantle Haagen like this again. Need I remind you that you've got a missing child on your hands?"

Diego glared fiercely over the rim of his cup. Healy smoothed his hands down the front of his shirt and returned to his neutral position as righteous commander.

"Schedule more time to spend with Jazmine, especially in public spaces. We have it on good authority that Haagen is going to put a detail out to give him updates on Jazmine in the near future, and he needs to see you in these updates." Healy turned on his heel and reached the elevators, stopping them from closing dramatically and fixing Diego with a stare. "And no more ignoring us."

Jazmine woke up the next morning to one new notification.

I'm coming over.

"Oh shit." The woman threw herself out of bed and looked around. This wasn't fair. Cleaning day was a bi monthly ritual where she took a day off to deep clean the entire apartment, blasting music and stepping around her dog to get things done. Hercules wandered into her bedroom looking chipper as ever. "I guess we better get started then, huh?"

The fucker showed up on her doorstep not ten minutes after she got out of bed– she wasn't even dressed for the day. Her hands nervously tried to cover the broth stain on her jeans as she cleared a space for him to sit and wait while she finished her morning routine. She worried while brushing her teeth that Diego might be a psycho like her last boyfriend. Psycho enough to kick her overly friendly pet, but no sound of yelps filtered through the paper thin walls and when she finally emerged, the pit-bull was settled with her head on his lap.

Diego turned his head at the sound of a huge sigh. Jazmine was gazing at him but quickly turned when she realized she'd been caught. She began to flit about the room, picking up lost things and piling them up until she could figure out what items went where. He watched, making absolutely no move to help other than keeping the dog out of the way. Hercules– as the tag on her collar read– laid as much in his lap as he would allow.

"Buena perro," he muttered, and if she still had a tail, she would have wagged it. Growing bored, Diego rose and stalked over to the fridge. "Do you have anything to eat?"

The white void in the fridge answered for her, but she still called out, "no, it's empty."

"I'm ordering pizza."

"What about Chinese?"

Diego looked at the lonely, days-old Chinese boxes in the fridge and shivered. "I'm getting pizza." She didn't complain. He returned to the couch to do just that. Distractedly, he admired the curve of her spine as she bent over. She wore jeans again and another band shirt, this time it was a baggy Chicago thing. He licked his lips thinking about taking them off her.

Healy’s meddling had repercussions– mainly that it would made taking girls home harder, or at least less frequent. Diego still felt great suspicion towards this Jazmine, but it didn’t stop his body from wanting her under him. Or over him, on him, riding him… he tried to blink the images out of his head.

“What kind of dirt does Healy have on you?,” he found himself asking. “My sister and I have been dying to know.”

Jazmine shrugged, keeping her back to him. “No dirt.”

“So you’re just helping out of the goodness of your heart?” Pizza arrived in time for her not to answer, and they returned to their positions for further interrogation. “Anything to get that creep Haagen away from you for good? Or are you an agent as well?”

“No,” she said. She slipped rubber gloves on to begin maintenance on the tower of dishes piled on the side of the sink. She seemed to live alone– there was no reason to have so many dishes. Maybe he had been wrong in his assessment from earlier? Or maybe she was just a hoarder. “To tell you the truth, I’m about as fond of Healy as I am Haagen. I take that back– Healy’s a step up but not by much.”

“Because you don’t trust him?”

“I don’t know…” That mountain of plates and glasses seemed to disappear quicker than he expected and she began to scrub out the sink and the cleared counters, grunting with effort as she did so. “I trust I know the kind of man Haagen is, more so than I do with Healy. Partnerships like the one I have with Healy– they’re subject to change, and not always for the better. He’ll always do what’s in his best interest. What’s good for him is good for me.”

For Now. The implication that she may harbor the same feelings towards Diego was not lost on him. In fact, he stood up from the couch and approached the windows with their blinds down to peek out at the street. There was nothing quite so conspicuous as a black SUV with a mean mugging thug staring back at him. Even his own protection didn’t roll that sloppily.

Jazmine objected to the windows being opened but Diego insisted. “Need our relationship on display, right? Haagen’s got to know I’m here.”

She relented quickly and threw her gloves aside, plopping her butt on the couch to rest a moment. The leftovers in the box were room temperature but she hardly seemed to mind. God, he wanted to run his hand up her shirt just to see if she was wearing a bra. They twitched in his lap and he realized there was no way she missed the hunger in his gaze as he did.

“Did you bring those beers,” she laughed as she noticed the case on the coffee table for the first time. “Can I have one?”

The beer seemed to quell the tiny tremor in her fingers. She kicked her feet up on the coffee table permitting Diego to do the same. "What the hell are we even doing? Hanging out? What exactly is this accomplishing?"

Jazmine gave it some thought as she took a pull from her drink. "Putting on a show. We need Haagen to think I'm in love with you, like you're no good but I'm not ready to let you go for something 'better.'"

"And Haagen is something," Diego put his fingers up like claws, "better."

"He certainly needs to think he is." She noticed Hercules whining and let her out the door unaccompanied. "We've got his 'gentleman' ego to work with."

Diego followed her to the window and grasped her hips from behind. She half turned, gazing up at him with a question in her eyes. He leaned into her space to whisper into her ear.

"Those eyes Healy thinks Haagen sent to watch you? Well they're watching right now, and they're not being subtle about it."

She doesn't try to look like he expected her to. Instead, she stepped away from him and pointedly crossed her arms. "You don't look very comfortable if you're still wearing that."

She nodded her head at his coat.

"So take it off me."

That startled her. Jazmine's eyebrows lifted, and her feet shuffled when he gave her nothing but a smirk in return. Finally, she did as he suggested. She did not miss the way his hands seemed to brush lightly over her rib cage. These small, fleeting touches that left her breath audible and her stomach warm. He didn't even give her a chance to put the coat on the hangar when he dragged her back against him.

"What are you doing?" She didn't mean to sound breathless, turning her head to the side and exposing more of her neck at the behest of his pushy nose and allowing him to trail kisses on her skin.

"Putting on a show," he said against the shell of her ear.

He felt her stiffen a little against him. The tent on his pants was preventing a lot of important blood from entering his brain, but he was conscience enough to feel how conflicted she was. Diego slipped his hand up her shirt like he wanted, cupping her bare breast and sucking a mark into her neck. She allowed it, but it felt more like compliance than enjoyment. All at once and against the protest of his body, he let her go. He watched her shoulders relax and her hands find a home beneath her armpits.

Jazmine nodded in answer to a question left unasked. She did grab his hand and pull him away from the window, backwards into the tiny hall separating the front room from the bedroom and bathroom. She dropped his hand as soon as they were out of sight of the window.

"I appreciate the enthusiasm," she said. "Just hang out for twenty more minutes and you can leave. I'll text you tomorrow and we can makes plans for another 'show.' You can stay in my room while I clean the bathroom."

Diego sat heavily on her bed. Just as he was about to get comfortable, someone knocked at the front door. Jazmine brushed invisible dirt from her knees as she got up to see who it was. He followed from a distance. The peep hole was almost out of her reach, but she stood on her toes to see outside. Suddenly, the woman looked back at him with wide eyes. It's Haagen, she mouthed. As soon as her head was turned to the task of confronting him, she missed the part where Diego began to undress.

"Hey!" She flung the door open and yelped when Hercules barreled through her legs to get inside. "You... found my dog!"

"Indeed," Haagen said, folding his hands over his heart. "I saw this poor creature wandering and I returned him using the address on its collar. I am astounded to learn that he belongs to you." Nice cover story. The man continued, "since you have the day off, I was wondering–"

Haagen's wondering was cut off by the appearance of a half naked boyfriend. Diego wound his arm around Jazmine and leaned down so he could engulf her clothed nipple with his hot mouth. She gasped, pushing his head away on instinct and he pressed her into his side like a vice.

"Come back to bed, baby," he purred, then pretended to take notice of Haagen watching in the doorway. "Oh, you're that guy, right? James, Jeff, Jebediah or whatever."

"Jeremy," the man hissed through his teeth. "Hello Di-e-go."

"Right right right." An embarrassed Jazmine buried her face into Diego's nude shoulder, acting unconsciously but playing into her role perfectly. "Kinda crazy how I start hearing about you and then all of a sudden you're showing up on my girl's doorstep, isn't it?"

Haagen made a move to defend himself but Jazmine was quicker. "He found the dog, honey! Jeremy was just bringing her home, he didn't know I lived here."

"Right," Haagen cleared this throat.

Diego's smile bordered on a threatening mania-- there were far too many teeth displayed to suggest any sort of friendliness. "Life is so full of strange coincidences…"

No one missed the way he squeezed Jazmine harder. It sent a message to be sure. Vague enough for Haagen to infer whatever he deemed necessary to the story in his head. It was quite brilliant actually.

"Well I ought to," Haagen swallowed, "leave you to it then. I'll see you around the shop, then?"

"Bye–" she barely managed to say before Diego dragged her into the apartment and slammed the door shut. He kept dragging her all the way back to her bedroom, and all the while she protested being treated like a misbehaving child. It wasn't until he'd slammed the door and collected his shirt from the floor that she realized what exactly had transpired.

"Oh." She brushed the frizzing curls invading her eyes, "oh that was perfect. Healy was right to pick you."

Diego rolled his shoulders once his shirt was tucked back into place. "Come over tonight. I'll text you my address and we can capitalize on this. Wear something nice."

She was about to protest his leaving but realized it wouldn't matter. If Haagen expected a fight from the noises he'd heard, he would probably just assume it had ended quickly if he saw Diego storm out alone. He crafted his own version of events. She let the pieces fall where they lie and made arrangements to meet Diego tonight.

#Diego Jimenez x OC #Starz Power #fanfic #Diego Jimenez #Garrote #three bees writing #🐝🐝🐝✏

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itsbxtgirl-a · 4 years

Text

you'll be fine, i'm right here by your side // timsteph

WHO: Tim Drake & Stephanie Brown. With mentions of Bruce Wayne, Ra’s Al Ghul.

WORDS: 4503 words.

LOCATION: The Batcave.

GENERAL NOTES: Steph gets sick and tired of Tim’s behavior, ignoring his feelings and pushing everyone away. She decides to do something about it only for it to turn in a direction she didn’t expect. Tears are shed, feelings are blurted out.

WARNINGS: Mild violence in the form of sparring. Timsteph being emo and making US emo in the process!

STEPH:

Steph prided herself on knowing Tim better than most people. Even when he kept things in and shut the world out, she was still there. She had been watching him be more...well. Bruce like, and it was killing her. Memories of her days at Batgirl and falling more and more for the man she called her best friend seemed distant and she hated that. So she was going to fix it, come hell or high water. That’s how she found herself at the manor, making her way to the batcave, clad in her usual work out attire and her long blonde hair tied up into a ponytail. She had to bite back the sigh that threatened to leave her as soon as she saw Tim was already in there, going to town on training dummies. He was clearly already in some type of mood and Steph just had to nudge him further into the direction to let him get his feelings out. That was going to be trying in itself.

Grabbing two of the training staffs, Steph made her way over to Tim and twirled one in her dominant hand experly before whipping it out to hit the back of his knee harshly. “Let’s go. We’re sparring and I’m not taking no for an answer, Red.” She said simply. “We did this when I was Batgirl and we’re doing it again now. We’re going to do whatever we have to in order to break you out of this entirely too Bruce shaped hole you’ve dug yourself into. So let’s go. Now.” Her eyes were lit with a determined fire, refusing to back down from this. Besides, Steph had some of her own frustrated and hurt feelings that she could definitely work out through sparring. Especially considering they involved the very man standing before her.

TIM:

A hard thud, heavy breathing. His head was throbbing, and it was probably because he hadn't had his fourth cup of coffee that had gone cold by now, sitting pretty on the Computer's keyboard while he'd felt the sudden urge to release.

Dick taught him to talk, but Bruce taught him to fight.

One heaved breath had Tim back upright, flexing his sore, wrapped fingers. He didn't check for blood, if anything there would be some nice scrapes and blossoming bruises he'd have to explain to his professors. They shouldn't worry so damn much...

At once he was hit. One knee fell to the never-soft-enough mats, a hand whipping down to balance him as he shot nearly a glare behind him. It only softened a fraction when he saw who dealt the blow to his balance. Steph. How did she get here? Did she disarm the alarms?? Did Al let her in??? Why wasn't he made aware?! Another hard huff, his tense shoulders only dropping with the releasing air. "I'm... Not.... In a Bruce-Shaped hole, whatever that means." His voice was a growl, but the back of his mind regretted the tone as soon as the words left his mouth. He shouldn't be like this, Steph shouldn't be seeing him like this. He couldn't help being mad, from years of repressing emotions he couldn't explain away or detective his head around, the white hot core sitting in his stomach nearly numbed anything besides anger: anger purely at himself.

With an almost too expert air, he smoothly got back on both feet and swiped one of the staffs from the other hero, the familiar weapon feeling all too comfortable in his hands. It was a lightning rod for him to channel his turmoil into, and... he really didn't want to know what he was going to do next. Something told him to stop while he was ahead, to just drop the charade, the mask, and admit he's a lovestruck fool, but his training was telling him otherwise. His training told him to scare her off, before she got hurt.

Or worse.

"Clearly you're not in the mood for banter. Come on."

STEPH:

Steph merely scowled the moment the glare was directed back at her. The steady anger that had been building and building for what seems like ages was rising, and fast. "Oh? You don't know what it means? Really? You're being an asshole, Tim. Don't try to lie to me. You promised, no lies." That promise felt like a distant memory, one that was becoming harder and harder to cling to. She knew Tim Drake, knew him better than anyone else on this planet and even that felt like it was slipping from her grasp. "You're refusing to feel, whatever's going on with you ends here." That anger was only boiling at a faster rate, she could feel it all through her body. Her ears might as well be blowing out steam with how angry she was getting.

"Clearly." Steph spat out at Tim and immediately went in on the man before her, swinging at him in harsh and blunt hits. There was red practically painting her vision, clouding over with hurt and pent up frustration at the situation that was her love for one Timothy Jackson Drake. "You are pushing us away. All of us. I know you have endured so much pain in your lifetime, Tim, but you don't have to shoulder it alone." She bit out in between hits and blocks, swinging her staff around to deliver a sharp hit to his side, sure to bruise. "Do you even realize how much I do for you? How often I go out of my way to make sure you're okay? Then you just shove me away. I do something nice for you, the Valentine's gift, and in return get something nice then the remark of 'it was embarrassing." Steph hated the tears that stung at her eyes, forcing them back, focusing on her anger instead. "I want you back, Tim, my best friend. You're hiding in this shell of yourself and I hate it."

TIM:

No more lies. The memory was always fresh, younger kids standing in this very cave, unmasked to both, secret identities revealed for better or for worse. Icy eyes squinted, squaring up to his newfound opponent, resting the bo in his right hand, pressed against the flat of his forearm, preparation. Not only was Steph a formidable opponent against his own training from Lady Shiva, but she sounded pissed. Rightfully so, he deserved this anger, he needed her to be this mad. He just didn't expect her to approach him about it, that made things a bit more difficult.

Even though he could catch her telegraphs, Steph was fast and loose. It was hard on his already plenty sore muscles, the crack of wood on wood reverberating against the noise clouding his mind, the screams that this was wrong, this wasn't supposed to happen. "I... Have to!" Tim grunted out, a hard parry throwing him off balance to slam right into a connecting hit. His eyes shot wide open at the immediate burst of pain. It was almost... a release. He felt some of the heat of the anger he'd held before drain and localize entirely in the blooming colors at his waist. Fuck.

"I'm doing what I have to, to keep you safe, Steph!" Getting his bearings again, Tim launched into another bout of attacks, blocks, swings. "To keep you all safe!" There was a stinging at the corners of his eyes, it nearly matched the screaming in his arms, the searing at his sides and on his knuckles. Strangely, it didn't drive him forward... It felt like it was adding to the molasses slowing him down. "I have to hide things, hide feelings, or they'll be used against me like they always are, even by Him, I'm not safe from Batman's shit!!" He was slipping, he could feel it. If he didn't get his bearings, if he didn't let his emotions take over his logic, he might just reveal a little... too much.

STEPH:

Tim wasn't being sloppy, he was never sloppy (unless he was extremely sleep deprived), but he seemed almost sluggish. It felt like it was make it much easier than usual for Steph's hits to collide with his body. She could feel the anger coursing through her body like an untapped flow of lava, practically burning her from the inside out. She was tired of pretending like she was okay with him pushing her away, with all these feelings that weren't reciprocated. That the way he had been acting didn't make her want to scream.

"Have to?!" Steph snapped harshly, "you don't have to keep me—us safe! We're not fucking inept, Timothy!" Another swing. Another block. The words were lodged in her throat, threatening to claw its way out in a moment's notice. Her knuckles were white with how tightly she was holding onto the bo staff, launching into a much more aggressive attack, intent on connecting each hit. "I know you've been through a lot, Tim, more than anyone should have to endure, but we're not sheep being sent to the slaughter. We can more than handle ourselves—" A hard hit to the shoulder, one to the thigh, shoving the end of her staff against his chest. "—and you know that. You're just scared."

Steph swept her foot out, intent on knocking Tim down. "What feelings are you even talking about? You shouldn't hide what you're feeling, Tim, no matter what bullshit Bruce spouts at us all. You're isolating yourself and that is not okay and I'm done putting up with it. You're not shoving me away. Not anymore."

TIM:

While his brow kept its deep crease, his snarl still baring his teeth against the effort, he felt some sort of wetness fall from his face. He didn't have time to think, or check for that matter, if it was blood or sweat or tears. He almost didn't care, he was laser-focused on the body in front of him, trying to catch her swings as easy as he usually did when they were training. This wasn't usual, he yelled at himself silently. She was out for release, revenge. Think, Detective. What are you feeling?

The familiar inner question had him miss, miss-calculate, almost stopping his heart in the seconds before he felt another hit, and another, and another. She was throwing him off balance, he would've commended the strategy if they weren't having a dispute through it all. The impact on his chest, sternum, not fractured, had him stumbling, and the moment he felt contact against his legs again, he was hitting the mats hard. It knocked the rest of the air out of his lungs, gasping to draw it in again, sputtering at whatever he was choking on in his throat. Why are you crying, Detective?

"Don't... Don't compare me to him... We're nothing alike!!" The harsh shaking sobs combined into knife-sharp rage, silvery and meant to cut. It wasn't for her, no, he would never mean that for her, it was for the man 'generous' enough to adopt him when... dad.

"I'm not... I'm nothing. I should be nothing, then... thennnNNNN-" Tim didn't take much time getting back up, using the staff as a means to almost vault himself back on his feet, albeit a bit shaky from the current pain shooting through his body. "Then no one else dies!!" His anger was still there as he readied himself again, en garde, but something replaced the fire in his icy eyes. His breath was hitching, shaking his head to clear something that dared to run through it too much, echoing and echoing like mad. Detective. What. Do. You. Truly. Feel.

"I can't... Lose you too..."

STEPH:

The blood was pumping, elevating the former Batgirl's anger. She wasn't one to bottle things up, but this was a culmination of all her pent up feelings in regards to Tim. Her anger that he was pushing her away, pushing them all away. It wasn't fair, that she loved him so much it left her aching and he just got to push her away like it was nothing. So maybe her strategy was a bit more aggressive, giving into an anger that was punching its way right out of her. Each hit that connected drained that anger out, inch by inch. She watched Tim hit the mat and her movements halted, but for a moment, seeing the tears. It twisted that anger up into something achingly sad, enough to have Steph taking a momentary step back.

There were no words, lost in her throat only for a new rage to be ignited when he shoved himself back onto his feet. "You're not nothing! You've never been nothing. You've got to stop this whole self blaming shit, you did nothing. You didn't kill anyone, Tim. You've been caught in the crossfire of so many bad situations, of bad guys seeing that little sliver of victory, but that is not. your. fault." Her breathing was almost ragged, unsure if it was from exerting herself with sparring or if it was from wave after wave of emotions she had been holding back for much too long. They were crashing into her like a violent tsunami. There was a wetness on her face, hand coming up to touch her cheek and register it was her crying now.

"You won't lose me. If you can't see that I would do anything for you, then you're a lot stupider than I thought." The words were coming out now. She couldn't stop them now that the floodgates had opened up. "I have always been here, Tim. Morning, night, rain or shine, I've been here. You keep pushing me away and it hurts. It hurts more than anything. Because I—" Steph let out a growl and slammed her staff against the ground, akin to a toddler stomping its foot in the midst of a temper tantrum.

"—I love you, you idiot! It's always been you! There could be a room full of people and I'd only see you. Through Spoiler, Robin, Batgirl, only to be back at Spoiler the one consistent thing in my life was you and my feelings for you. You aren't going to lose me, Tim, because I'm not going anywhere. It'd take a hell of a lot to ever pull me from you." It was quiet, too quiet. Steph's knuckles were white with the force she was holding onto her staff. She said too much. The tears were coming faster now, Steph taking a staggering step back and angrily wiping at her face with the back of her hand. "You're not going to lose me." She whispered once more.

TIM:

The barrage of words hit all at once. Tim tried so hard to stay a rock, a brick wall, against it all, but this... this was Steph. The girl who'd been there through it all, every single thing. Not just the traumas, but the highs and lows, if the lowest lows didn't count towards that. He felt he could only stand there, buried alive by her screams as he left her guard down through her monologue. His body told him he should attack, he has the chance, he can still win this spar... No. No, this was different now. This was morphing into something much more than a release of the bottled feelings he'd crammed into his gut for so damn long.

Slowly, the staff starts to lower, one hand sliding off to rest at his side as his own position becomes more relaxed, if it could even be called that. His eyes stung, his jaw was sore, he couldn't breathe.

And then it hits. Like a bullet to his heart. I love you.

Suddenly, he feels off balance again, that familiar panic rising in him again, just like it had before, so many times before. The hand still loosely attached to the training weapon dropped it, both hands coming up to clench and claw at his chest, gripping for air or a heartbeat that he couldn't feel. "You.... Y-you..." Stuttering, stumbling, he couldn't take the rising soreness in his joints much longer than that moment. With a weak whine, resonating somewhere in his throat that wasn't wrecked by his emotional toils, he nearly doubled over on himself, catching his falling weight on one knee, hands shooting out to grip the soft ground under him. He needed ground, something to hold him together because he felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Everything he'd tried to build, protect people by keeping them out, was crumbling in those seconds. He was fighting against a method he once thought was tried and true.

"You can't.... you can't say... He's going to hear." A crack in his voice, a full sob registering as he lets himself fall to the floor, elbows propping him up as the only means of support he has left. "If.... He knows... If He knows we.... Everyone I love... Always dies... I. Can't. Lose you." Broken, cracking, the words fall out of his mouth without a filter. Some part of his brain is telling him to shut the hell up, but the other half is pushing the clues forward. You love her, Tim Drake. You always have.

STEPH:

It was like watching a crack in a dam spider out and split open, water pouring out in a violent fashion. Steph was stunned for a beat until Tim crumbled to the ground, dropping the staff in an instant and on her knees beside the bird. "Stop, stop." She insisted, grabbing at his hands that were clawing at his chest. "I need you to breathe for me, Timmy. Okay, can you do that for me?" She asked, hand moving to his hair and brushing the sweaty locks away from his forehead. Her bottom lip trembled, feeling the tears trickling down her cheeks only increase tenfold in seeing Tim cracking and falling apart before her. It hurt, it always ached to see Tim hurting like this.

It hit Steph like a punch to the gut, all air leaving her within a moment's notice. Her lips were parted, blinking almost dumbly at his words. "Timmy..." she whispered softly, hands moving to cradle his face finally when she realized she needed to spur into action. "No, I'm not leaving you. You're not going to lose me. I will claw my way, kicking and screaming, back to you. Always. There is nothing that could keep me from you without a fight. Him included, if he even dares to get near us." Her thumbs brushed against Tim's cheeks, sweeping away the wetness there. Leaning down, Steph pressed her forehead against his, letting a shaky breath escape her.

"I love you, Timothy Drake. I have for a very, very long time. I swear I will always come back to you, one way or another. You are everything and more, my pretty bird." Steph was sure she looked a mess, tears staining her cheeks and sweaty ponytail a mess, but her face bloomed into a soft smile as her forehead leaned against Tim's.

TIM:

Tim couldn't believe how fast she got to him. She looked just as hurt seeing him, seeing him like this, as he felt. It resonated in a weird way that he only knew he never wanted to see her look like that again. Wide eyes, wet and glossy, stared into hers, hands shaking in what he could only assume was her own grip, trying to curl up on himself even though his overworked limbs complained to no end. Breathe. Remember... Remember the technique, relaxation. He wouldn't say it, not right now, but she somehow knew exactly how to take care of his attack, the inner turmoil coming and boiling over, one thing he feared she would never have to see... again. Yet, here she was, gentle after the royal ass-kicking she delivered to him just moments before, and she cared. She knew him, she knew him.

"You..." A breath, Tim wasn't sure how many words he could form with panic still having a death-grip on his windpipe. She was... so close. It was so tempting, but he was glued to the floor. Trapped, hands in hers, he wasn't going anywhere without thinking. Wasn't it the thinking that got him here in the first place??

Then she got closer, released his twitching fingers, held him steady. The spot where their foreheads connected felt hot, molten like they dared to fuse together, but comforting in a strange, sweaty sort of way. The thought even had him squinting his eyes as he thought, eyes locked still on their initial target. It really was always you, wasn't it?

Pretty Bird. Tim felt a new heat take over his face, something to make his pale cheeks light up like a Vegas strip. It was distracting enough that his hands stopped their feverish motion, coming up to mirror exactly what Stephanie was holding. Her face felt so small, and he could feel that same heat at the top of his head in his fingertips where the calloused edges gingerly touched.

"Steph I..." His breathing was still abnormal, but he could feel the heat in every labored breath. "I... Love you too."

STEPH:

A soft smile spread across Steph's lips, unable to help it due to the soft pink blush spreading over Tim's cheeks. Her own face felt hot, the gentle touch causing her eyes to briefly flutter shut. Her heart was racing, feeling like it was mere moments from just jumping out of her chest. Swallowing hard, she thought of how she had dreamed of this. Dreamed of the soft lingering touches, the lips being pressed to her own, careful hands holding her like she was something precious. It didn't hold a candle to the actual thing.

I love you too.

A wet laugh was out of Steph's mouth before she could stop it, fingers trembling slightly where they laid against Tim's cheeks. She swallowed hard, eyes fluttering back open and full of tears. It felt like she could fly with how her heart was soaring at those four simple words she had been aching to hear for years now. Her heavy, tired heart was repaired within seconds, stitched together by Tim's words and feeling lighter than it had in such a long time. Stephanie Brown loved Tim Drake and he loved her back. It felt like a dream.

Surging forward without a second guess, Steph's lips pressed to Tim's and her eyes slid shut. Every nerve was aflame, feeling fireworks exploding in her chest with how loved she felt and felt in return for Tim. This was nothing like she could have dreamed for, hoped for even. Slowly, she parted her lips and pulled back enough to keep her forehead against Tim's, eyes still shut.

"Leave it to us to have our first kiss in the damn Batcave of all places." Steph muttered after a beat, snorting slightly.

TIM:

This really felt like something they'd do in a romantic comedy. Coming soon to a theatre near you; two vigilantes meet, one gets a brick to the head, they fall in love, neither of them knows it until they're beating the shit out of each other in their secret HQ. It sounded dorky as all get out, but somehow that sort of thought relaxed him even more on his spot on the floor, it felt like a small return to form, his old form, his old mask. No no, this wasn't a mask, this was Timothy Drake. Finally, he felt a little bit like himself again, and wasn't that something special?

It didn't take long for the action he was pondering too much over to come from above, warmth invading his mouth, finally spreading through the rest of his muscles as he sat still for a second, taking in exactly what was happening. Stephanie Freakin' Brown was kissing him. Eat your fuckin' heart out, all others.

His grip on her tightened just slightly after that, reality slamming back as he felt himself push into it, returning the ever-gracious favor, a shared moment of silent confession that was wracking his body more so than his workout was. The thin wisps of angry, white heat he felt in his stomach faded and were replaced by... something else. He was still shaky, but this was a new kind of feeling. This one he wasn't going to keep shy, this was all for her.

When there was a moment for him to come up for air, Tim let out a genuine laugh. It wasn't loud, it wasn't the most confident, and he could still feel the trembling hold of panic in his voice, but it was a laugh all the same. Happiness. That's something he never thought he'd deduce in his head again. "Irony," He replied, chest still heaving from both the lip-contact that felt far too much like heaven and the multitude of other things that followed. He was starting to haze over those... maybe it was the exhaustion. "I... I basically... live down here, so..."

STEPH:

Steph was smiling, she was smiling so much it felt like her face was going to be aching by the time the night was over. Her fingers brushed gingerly over Tim's cheek and she laughed softly along with him, the happiness crashing into her like waves. It felt almost breathtaking, to see Tim's own happiness appear on his face. It sent a warmth through the blonde headed girl all the way down to her very toes. There was nothing quite like seeing Tim Drake happy. Nothing else could compare in her eyes, really.

"Yeah, not surprised at that." Steph teased, sitting back on her heels only to lean in and press a soft kiss to the scar that stretched across the other vigilante's skin there. Every part of Tim was beautiful to Steph, scars and all included in that. Her fingers moved to curl up in Tim's and she finally pushed up to her feet, pulling him along with her. Her other hand cupped his cheek and a smile spread across her face, thumb brushing against the skin there. Now that she had a silent permission to touch him like this, touch him intimately, it was like she was addicted and never getting enough of it.

"Come on. Let's go lay down. We'll blame the mess on Damian." Steph snorted and pulled Tim along gently to the stairs that lead up to the manor. She would force him to lay down, curl up in bed with him and think silently to herself how lucky she was, to be in love with Tim and have him love her in return. Another 'I love you' escaped her, the words practically forcing their way out on their journey. She wouldn't stop saying that for as long as she lived, Steph knew that much. For now, Steph would be happy to say it in between Tim's sheets and cuddles, and fall asleep with the warmth the knowledge brought her. Tim and Stephanie were in love and that meant everything and more.

#int: tim drake #int: discord #tim drake: 005 #discord: tim drake #violence tw #blood tw #for the gif!#cleverbxrd

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queenevaine · 6 years

Text

A request for Jake/Dwight, I hope it’s sad enough for you anon!

Dwight had to adjust his vision to the darkness around him. Trials always tended to be the same, but lately they were.. Different. The areas became more and more simple, differences fading with each trial. The survivors were surviving more and more, the more unwilling Killers simply letting them go, and more determined Killers finding their abilities weakening. Dwight still feared failing, especially with how easy it was getting to survive. He noticed his injuries staying consistently longer, his ability to simply sense the other survivors failing, and knew that the Entity’s ability to maintain it’s weird realm was failing.

They were so close to escape, yet the pressure seemed to mount higher and higher. This trial seemed to be near pitch black, with no moon in the sky or stars to guide their way. Dwight had to keep himself from yelping when he bumped into someone else, praying it was a friendlier Killer like The Wraith.

“Dwight, you okay?”

Jake’s voice made Dwight sigh in relief.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I just... can’t see.”

“Neither can I. Stick close to me.”

Dwight nodded once, staying close by to Jake as the survivalist took careful, premeditated steps in the darkness. Something feels wrong.

“MOVE!”

Dwight was suddenly pushed forward, nearly falling to the ground. He turned around with a jolt when he heard Jake cry in pain, only barely seeing the off-white of an expressionless mask. He scrambled to action, running as far as he could. Stupid! He’s going to get himself killed for good!

Dwight couldn’t see any of the telltale signs of any generators, and the walls seemed to… move? He looked over his shoulder, seeing nothing close to him. Michael was probably chasing after Jake, then. Dwight took the opportunity to investigate the familiar brick wall, jumping backwards when it moved under his touch. He quickly started to move bricks away, part of the wall collapsing away to reveal misty forests beyond.

Generators weren’t needed to escape! Dwight just had to find Jake, and they could make it. They were so close!

Jake bit down hard on the scarf, keeping himself quiet. He didn’t need any further prompting to know that the Entity was failing, and the gash on his shoulder was very real and very painful. If he was caught now, he was as good as dead. As the Entity’s power slipped, it became harder and harder to actually tell where the Killer was, but Jake was far too skilled at keeping himself from being wiped from existence in any normal setting, human killer or not, to be found so easily. The crows that rested near him didn’t have the faint, glowing red eyes he was used to seeing. Didn’t he recognize some of these crows?

The sound of footsteps interrupted him. Stay still, don’t move. Don’t let him find you and erase you. Jake stayed still and quiet, even as blood poured down his coat. This time, he knew, he could actually stifle the flow enough to not bleed in a crimson trail, all too easy to follow. He didn’t need to see the tall figure at all to know when Michael walked away from him, not wasting any time in trying to find a target that would take far too long to find.

He needed to find Dwight. He hoped the leader was alright and staying hidden from Michael. Jake was accustomed to surviving on his own, years of practice at his side. As skilled as they all had become in the trials, Dwight was not as naturally silent as Jake was. Jake moved to the wall for support, nearly falling when it didn’t support his weight at all.

He could easily move the wall aside and head into the fog if he wanted. Does Dwight know, too? As much as his shoulder hurt, he wasn’t going to leave just yet. The crows still seemed unafraid, and a sudden idea hit him.

“Hey. Go find Dwight. My height, blood covered shirt, tie, glasses.”

The bird seemed to tilt its head as it listened, before squawking and flying off. It stayed clear in his sight, before circling overhead something in the distance. Good bird. He quietly walked towards it. He froze when he saw overalls again, just barely in the darkness. He better not have found Dwight.

His heart leapt to his throat when he heard Dwight’s cry of pain. He wasted no time in running towards it, desperate to escape together. Jake clearly spotted the multicolored tie, eyes quickly adjusted to night. He grabbed Dwight’s hand and ran, dragging the other along towards the wall. He had to ignore the heart wrenching whine, in favor of running further away from the Killer. He ran through the wall itself, bricks clearly disappearing from sight. He didn't dare look back, it would waste time running.

In the thick fog of the forest, Jake allowed himself to slow down. Dwight struggled to catch his breath, leaning against a tree.

“Are you hurt?”

“I-”

Snap!

The sudden snap of a tree branch interrupted them, making them listen closely to the footsteps approaching. Dwight knew they were too heavy to be any survivor.

“Jake!”

Jake didn't need any more hints than the soft whine, grabbing Dwight’s hand again and leading him through the maze of trees. Whether it was Michael or a different killer didn't matter. When Dwight started to lag behind, Jake made sure to keep Dwight in front of him. It was impossible to clearly tell, but Jake was sure he saw fresh blood on Dwight’s shirt. No time to worry now, unless we both want to die.

The fog clearing was the only indication that they were still moving. He wasn't sure if there were still footsteps behind him, but Jake didn't take chances like that.

Suddenly, the treeline broke from it's monotony and the sun harshly shined down on them. Jake stopped now to catch his breath, looking back to the forest and seeing a familiar, homely forest he knew he could navigate. Where did all of the fog go? He turned and took several steps forward, in pure disbelief. He couldn't help the growing grin.

“We actually escaped. Dwight, we-”

THUD.

Jake turned around in an instant, joy being overridden by fear when he saw Dwight limp on the ground.

“Dwight!?”

Dwight was struggling to breathe, pale from what Jake could only assume was blood loss. Crimson pooled underneath them, pouring from his shoulder. Jake tore the shirt away, wincing at the deep cut dangerously close to his neck. How much blood has he lost so far? I don't have time. He took his scarf off quickly, holding Dwight in his arms as he pressed the fabric to the gash. He hated the way Dwight winced and weakly cried out in pain.

“Just hold on, we're going to be fine.”

Dwight’s eyes fluttered, trying desperately to stay open.

“J-Jake, I'm… sorry...”

No! Not here, not when they were so close!

“Save your strength, Dwight.”

Jake had to stay composed, or at least seem that way, for both of them. If he panicked now, it would only make Dwight worse.

“J-Jake, p-please.. I-I’m sorry… I let you down..”

“Dwight, stop talking. You’ll be fine, we’ll get help.”

He pressed his hand harder against the wound, feeling Dwight shudder.

“Just hold on, Dwight. Please.”

Dwight’s head lolled back, strength quickly fading. This can’t be happening now!

“Dwight, listen to me. Just focus on me and my voice.”

The sudden pang of fear shot through his core when Dwight’s eyes closed and he fell limp.

“Dwight! Come on, just hold on a little longer! DWIGHT!”

He couldn’t hold back tears any longer as he slipped a glove off and held his other hand in front of Dwight’s mouth, feeling nothing at all. Guilt, anger, and sadness crashed down on him. I shouldn’t have left him alone! This is my fault. No, it’s his fault. But Dwight’s still gone, for good.

He couldn’t bear to look up to the warmth of the sun, instead holding Dwight’s body close as tears openly fell down his face. They had gotten so close, and it still fell apart.

#QueenEve writes #Dead By Daylight #Jake Park #Dwight Fairfield #Dwake #ParkField

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