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bbugyu · 4 years

Text

for you + yoon jeonghan

everyone in his life described you as his weakness, and he couldn’t even argue.

part one | part two

wc.10234 (LMAO) | fluff, smut, humor, etl/uni!au, ~new relationship stuff~, gender neutral pronouns for reader (but they have a pussy sorry), vague softdom/brattysub dynamics (guess who’s who!), there are - count em - 4 different sex scenes, more bff!gyu, filth, language, you know the drill, reader gets a lil tender, so does han, *sniffles* they just suit each other so well, please use condoms

this is where i admit that i wrote 20k of enemies to lovers garbage all based off a single line in falling for u, where they say they meant to drink a coffee with you but they accidentally chugged it bc theyre nervous. yup! all this mess for that one line! this is incredibly self indulgent and i apologize but also i don't because i needed this

visual culture was your new favorite class.

while there was absolutely no trouble making time to spend with jeonghan, your previous meditation time served as an allocated two hours every week where you could just sit and mess around with the boy you had growing affections for. the two of you would chat in hushed tones as the professor lectured, jeonghan’s fingertips tracing invisible patterns on your thigh as you diligently untangled his headphone cord for him, his thumb nails having been chewed too short to do it himself. he would bring you coffee on thursdays, when it was his only class of the day but your third and last. the caffeine was a well accepted afternoon pickmeup, and he never let you go after class without taking you out for lunch somewhere, claiming to be celebrating the end of your school day. then you might as well just come over to his apartment, he’d tell you. his place was closer than yours, he’d explain, swinging your hand in his. you didn’t wanna say goodbye yet, did you? afterall, the night’s still young, he’d tease, luring you with the promise of kisses between droopy eyed smiles.

jeonghan had become the complete opposite of your initial impression. he was sweet to you, genuinely, and if you liked him any less, you would say he was obsessed. you do say that, occasionally, when you’re hanging out with your friends and he texts you some purposefully cheesy line knowing it would make you roll your eyes, forcing you to mention him to your questioning friends, but you never truly meant it. you’d be a liar if you said every eye roll wasn’t just to cover up the faint feeling of butterflies in your gut. he always knew exactly how to make you want to see him, and you never hesitated to tell him when you did.

on one such day, when you had told him that if you went home you would need him to drive you into the woods and help you dig your roommate a clandestine grave, he stopped by your friend’s apartment after a shift, waiting dutifully by the door with his shoes still on and his hands shoved into his jean pockets as you searched the kitchen counter for your keys.

“serious, mingyu, what did you do with them? i know i left them next to the toaster.”

“i used your bottle opener, but i swear i put them on the coffee table,” he said, pushing back his hair as he looked around the small living room.

jeonghan watched you and mingyu tear apart the couch, trying to ignore the roommate that was leaning against the wall, eyeing him.

“where do you live?”

jeonghan blinked and looked at him. “uh, my apartment’s a couple streets over and a few-”

“roommates?” minghao watched as the older straightened his spine involuntarily, arms folded across his chest as he appraised his friend’s new chew toy.

“yeah, three,” he responded. minghao kept eyeing him. he fidgeted under the gaze, then coughed to clear his throat. for some reason unknown to even him, he said “they’re good people,” as though he was seeking some kind of approval.

minghao nodded slowly. “they act tough but they’re not. if you break their heart, i’ll break you.”

“what?”

“y/n,” he said, causing you to perk your head up from across the room while simultaneously clarifying. he lifted his hand and jangled your keys, holding them by the novelty hulk fist bottle opener. “found ‘em.”

“jesus christ, myungho, you had them the whole time?” you exhaled sharply, shoving a couch cushion back where it was meant to be. “don’t be a prick.”

you snagged the keys from him and shoved your feet into your shoes, taking the bag that jeonghan was holding for you.

“wo ai ni.”

you batted at minghao’s arm. “yeah, whatever. love you, too. see you guys later?”

mingyu threw up a peace sign from the couch, where he had promptly laid himself out after the search for keys had ceased, and minghao smiled as he waved you off and closed the door behind you.

you asked how work was, and jeonghan sighed, describing it shortly as work, but said he was glad it was over so that he could spend some time with you.

you giggled, knocking shoulders and slyly lacing your fingers between his. “cheesy.”

he gave you your favorite sideways smile, though he didn’t know it was your favorite, and you, again, ignored the flitting in your stomach that he always seemed to cause. “so, uh… myungho…”

you exhaled. “what did he say to you?”

“nothing, really,” he said quickly, knowing you would get mad at your friend if he told you the full truth. “i was just kind of curious if you two had ever, y'know…”

you looked at jeonghan. “you’re not jealous, are you?”

he looked back. “i don’t have reason to be, do i?”

“of course not,” you said, pulling your bag up on your shoulder. “i’ve kissed hao once, on a drunk dare, and we both agreed to never try it again. he’s like a brother.”

jeonghan nodded, thinking about the protective stance the tall lean man had taken when he tried (and maybe succeeded, though jeonghan would never admit it) to intimidate him. no matter the vibe he got, he trusted you, and he understood the intent - however, you made him want to do everything in his power to keep you happy, so he didn’t think this myungho character had much to worry about.

“oh my god, hannie,” you gripped his hand tighter, your other hand clutching his elbow. “look at that dog.”

he laughed and followed your gaze across the street to the pom that was nose up, walking beside its owner. “cute.”

“isn’t it?” you sighed. “god, i want a dog. i hate living in a dorm. i hate my roommate.”

“move out, then.”

“and go where? back to my parents’ place?”

he rolled his eyes. “into the apartment you practically live at anyways.”

“dumb, dumber, and dumbest?” you scoffed. “i would kill all three of them in under a week.”

jeonghan wondered which was which, then pushed the temptation to mention his idea of you living with him out of his brain. “sounds like you’re shit outta luck.”

you sighed, craning your neck to steal a look at the dog again. “i guess you’ll just have to get a dog for me.”

he smiled back, eyes lingering on your face even after your gaze went back to the scenery. “i have a question.”

you blinked at him. “yes?”

he watched a cloud for a second. “what do you call me?”

“hannie.”

he laughed. “i mean to your friends.”

you eyed him sideways. “are you trying to trick me into calling you my boyfriend?”

he eyed you back, a smile teasing his lips. “are you admitting that you call me your boyfriend?”

“what do you call me to your friends, then?”

“y/n.”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met.”

“woooow,” he went, sighing and pulling his hand from yours to shove it in his pocket. “here i was thinking we were in a healthy, mutually respectful relationship.”

you giggled, tugging on his arm. “oh, shut up. we are. you call me by my name, and i call you by yours. that’s as mutually respectful as we can get.”

jeonghan rolled his eyes, but allowed you to pull his hand out of his pocket and put your fingers between his again. he had never been the type to hold hands in public, but with you it felt right. “whatever. it’s only been a month. i’ll break you eventually.”

you exhaled. “if you want me to tell people you’re my boyfriend, you just have to ask.”

“why would i want that?”

you pouted. “i dunno, i thought maybe you liked me or something.”

he squeezed your hand. “don’t flatter yourself.”

you laughed, forcing a smile onto jeonghan’s face, and he didn’t stop you when you changed the subject to the fact that mingyu had informed you that a dissected sheep brain looks a little too close to ssamgyeopsal for comfort.

one day, he told you that he thought you’d be different, back before you started dating. you were gentler than he imagined, despite your continued quick wit and sharp tongue. sweeter.

“i dunno,” he said, leaning back against the couch with your head in his lap. “in my head you would just be mean all the time.”

you didn’t take it as an insult. “the version of me you created in your head is no responsibility of mine.”

jeonghan thought you were beyond incredible. while his original judgement of you being rude, pretentious, and, well, mean hadn’t necessarily been wrong, he had found you to also be incredibly caring, thoughtful, and maybe the funniest person he had ever met. you would sigh about how broke you were that week, how you were sick of eating cup noodles, but you wouldn’t hesitate to spend the last of your budget on soju and kimbap for your friends on your walk to their apartment. you always picked up on his subtle mood changes - when he would press his hands to his temples as he tried to process his literature homework, your hand would sneak onto his thigh and squeeze his knee to remind him to let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, despite your eyes never leaving your own textbook. he swore he never saw jihoon laugh as hard as he did when you and mingyu went off on one of your stupid arguments that only best friends could have, especially after you called mingyu a “grey’s anatomy-worthy harassment claim waiting to happen.”

“seriously, why am i friends with you?” mingyu grabbed his drink from your hand and glared at you when he noticed how much lighter it was (you had said you didn’t want one but definitely stole more than one sip). “can anyone else stand this bitch?”

“i like them,” jeonghan said matter of factly, his chin in his hand and elbow on the table as he stared at you fondly.

mingyu rolled his eyes. “you don’t count, evil twin.”

jihoon had his back on the floor, hands on his face, still trying to recover from your grey’s anatomy joke, and mingyu’s twin comment only set him off again. you giggled as you watch him roll onto his side, and briefly looked around this new grouping you found yourself in, sat around the low table covered in takeout in jeonghan’s living room. “how come you call me every day, then, dr. hate-my-guts?”

“free therapy,” he said, not missing a beat as he shoved a massive spoonful of rice and meat into his mouth. jihoon coughed, and mingyu narrowly avoided laughing as he chewed.

“i don’t buy it,” jeonghan said, running a hand through his hair and leaning back on the other. he watched you steal from his plate. “i think you like y/n the same reason i do. they’re the first person that didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear just because you’re good looking.”

mingyu kept chewing as he stared at jeonghan, his almost tired gaze going to you before he spoke. “you guys are really made for each other, huh?”

you didn’t think it before, but everyone kept telling you two that, and it definitely served as a pretty good ego boost for the existing confidence in your newfound relationship. you, of course, enjoyed jeonghan’s company even more without the validating eye rolls and gagging noises from friends whenever one of you made some praising comment about the other. you thought he was funny when he was making scathing jokes at his friends’ expense, but you thought he was absolutely hilarious when he was muttering every stupid thought that popped into his head with the specific intention of making you laugh too loud as you laid with him in your bed, his hand rubbing your back, overly aware of the fact that your roommate was trying to study at their desk as you planted your hand over your mouth to stifle your laughter.

as more time passed, jeonghan found it increasingly annoying that you both shared bedrooms with other people, considering how easily you could tease him into a bothered red-eared state with just your words. times that the two of you had gotten yelled at by whoever had to witness to get a damn room, or whispers between drinks that turned into standing too closely at parties, catching each others lips teasingly. disappearing into a bedroom only to be interrupted before anything can happen by some combination of party-goers and friends that somehow always managed to ruin the mood for one or both of you in an extremely targeted way. you had managed to help each other get off, of course, and he loved the look of you sinking to your knees in a bathroom stall, gaze catching his while you unbuckled his belt, or the way you squirmed against him, stuck between a closet door and his hard place, your breath hitching as he dug his fingers deeper into you. both activities were satisfying in their own right, but it would never be enough for him.

then there was that frustrating time jihoon had walked in, catching you with your hand down jeonghan’s pants, and he would never forgive you for the way you hesitated to loosen your grip on him despite the interruption. those few seconds of sheer terror he had felt, making direct eye contact with his roommate with his dick hard and in a hand that wasn’t his, the only thing stopping you from continuing being his annoyed “can you let go, now?"

he had decided to get back at you, and he got the opportunity a week later, when he had woken up behind you in your bed with your laptop asking if you were still watching and your roommate sleeping only a meter or so away. his lips ghosting across your neck, rousing you from your shallow sleep just to find his hand gently squeezing your hip, running over your mound until you were begging him to slip it under your pajama shorts. he had to put his free hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as you melted under his touch, your toes curling against his shins as the string in you snapped, and you punched his chest when you finally rolled over and caught your breath for getting you so needy when you weren’t alone. he just giggled and looked at you, half lidded, then kissed you like he hadn’t just been muttering voyeuristic filth in your ear.

jihoon was going home for the weekend, and the second jeonghan had found out, he told you you weren’t allowed to make any plans and swapped his saturday shift with a coworker. you had laughed in his face when he told you he intended to keep you in bed the entire weekend, but part of you had been waiting just as much as he had.

on friday night, when the two of you were sitting on the couch watching some documentary that you could barely pay attention to, seungcheol asked again if you guys wanted to go to the bar with him and soonyoung.

"cheol, i swear to god,” jeonghan said, the arm over your shoulder stiffening as he pointed at his roommate. “if you ask one more time, we’re gonna fuck in your bed, and it will be messy.”

seungcheol groaned in disgust as you laughed. “fuck you, jeonghan. i was giving them an out.”

“sorry,” you said, your head leaning back against the arm. “i’ll try to get him to wash the sheets, but no promises.”

“you guys are so fucking gross,” seungcheol said, snatching his wallet off the counter and shoving it in his pocket as soonyoung came out from the bathroom. “we’re leaving before they jump each other. do you have everything? if you forgot something, we’re not coming back,” he said, pointing. “i’m not risking it.”

soonyoung patted all his pockets, nodded, then smiled and waved at you. “see you guys! use protection!”

“don’t take the sixth shot,” you warned, smiling and waving back. soonyoung laughed as he got shoved out the door by his roommate, and when it shut behind him, you felt a chill run up your spine for no good reason.

“we should probably wait a minute,” you said, turning back to jeonghan, who was already leaning into you and letting his gaze flicker unapologetically between your eyes and lips.

“or, and this is just a suggestion, we can decide that we’ve waited long enough and that if they come back after all of that they deserve to see whatever they see,” he pitched, his fingers already brushing against your jaw.

you blinked at him from only a breath away, his honeyed eyes putting a sweet taste in your mouth. you swallowed, your stomach feeling light suddenly. “or that.”

his lips were on yours as soon as the words left them, and your hand rose to grip the front of his shirt - one of the many plain shirts that seemed to rotate around the household. you fidgeted for a second, before deciding you were impatient and pulling away from him only to swing a leg over his and straddle his lap. he grinned at you, hands landing on your thighs, lips excitedly welcoming back yours.

you really enjoyed kissing jeonghan. he always started soft, gentle, with light caresses and reassurances of how beautiful he thought you were. though you never catch him applying any, you know he has a peach flavored lip balm hiding somewhere in his daily routine, and you tasted it on him as you dove a little deeper into him, his hands squeezing at your waist as your tongue dipped past his lips.

jeonghan also really enjoyed kissing you, which was both good and bad for him. good, of course, because you could happily trap him in liplock for hours, and he never got bored of your soft sighs and adoring touches and wanton noises. bad, though, because his enjoyment becomes incredibly obvious embarrassingly fast, and he wished he could wipe the smirk off your face as soon as you noticed, but he always found himself completely powerless against you when you decided there was something you wanted.

and so, jeonghan’s eyes flicked over your chest as you pulled off your shirt, tossing it to the side as you stood and spun around, planting your hands on his knees and spreading his thighs as you sat back directly on his already straining bulge.

“holy fuck,” he managed, fingers running over the soft fabric of your gray sweatpants before kneading at your ass. you wiggled against his grip before grinding down against him, satisfied by the reaction, loving how clearly you could feel him and the way he sucked in a breath. you made no effort to stifle the noise caused by feeling him against your already dampening core, even through far too many layers. he whipped of his shirt quickly, his hands running up your back, twisting over your waist and pulling your back against his chest. you felt his lips start at your shoulder, then a hand on your chest, then the other snaking down your stomach.

you chuckled lightly. “can’t take a lapdance?”

“from you?” his lips landed behind your ear. “absolutely not. you’ll make me cum, and i have other things i’d like to try first.”

you sighed, rolling your hips as deliberate fingers moved from your stomach to inner thigh. “ever the poet.”

he smirked against your neck. “try it again later. right now, you’re making me insane.”

“mm,” you agreed. “i’ll keep that bookmarked, then.”

“god, how are you this hot?” jeonghan almost laughed. “you’re so annoying, why are you so good at teasing me like this?”

you smirked as his hand ghosted over your core. “yoon jeonghan, you make it incredibly fun to tease you.”

“i refuse to believe that it’s my fault you’re this sexy,” he said, drinking in the way your head dropped to his shoulder and a moan fell from your lips as he ran a finger up your slit. even through fabric, he felt the arousal gathering at your core, making his cock jump against your ass. you smiled, a hand snaking against his scalp, tugging gently at the hair at the base of his skull as he bumped over your clit, his reactionary groan matching yours.

“baby,” you whispered, your breath hot against jeonghan’s lips. “please.”

he licked his lips, tongue almost brushing yours in the process, using his hand on your waist to grind himself against you. “please what, darling?”

“fingers, jeonghan,” you whimpered, arching your back against his chest slightly in hopes to get friction against him, but he stopped his grinding as you did. you huffed. “please, i need you.”

he nudged at your jaw, making you roll your head as he planted his lips on your neck. his fingers undid the drawstring of your sweats to comfortably push under the fabric, and he let out a sigh as he didn’t find another layer.

“you’re evil.”

you giggled, gasping as his fingers quickly ran through your wetness. “and it turns you on.”

you let out a prolonged moan as he pushed his middle finger into you easily, sucking the base of your neck between his teeth. you gripped him, nails surely leaving crescents against his neck as he groaned about how absurdly wet you were, and you said something about how he was in no position to tease when you could feel every time his dick throbbed against you. he asked if you were dirty enough to admit how long you hadn’t been wearing underwear, and he watched you lick your lips before you told him all day. he smirked when you brought your lips to his, moaning against him as he pushed a second finger into you.

his fingers curled deliciously against pressure points, making you gasp as you tightened around them. jeonghan watched your heavy eyelids as you tried to focus on him, he watched your chest rise and fall as it flushed. he brought his free hand up to pinch your already puckered nipple, your temple landing on his cheek in an attempt to hold yourself together.

“i can tell you’re close,” he teased, and you only whined in response, eyes squeezing shut as his palm rubbed at your clit with the gentle movement of his fingers curling in you. “are you gonna cum on my hand, darling?”

you nodded hurriedly, your fingers curling in his hair, then opened your eyes to find his. he smiled at you, which only made you feel as though your world was crumbling. your back arched against his chest again as you came, and he held you by your core as you squeezed at his fingers, lips leaving repeated kisses across your cheek and neck.

despite the orgasm, you couldn’t help but continue to grind down against jeonghan’s hand, and he indulged your neediness by pumping them into you again before slipping his fingers out of you and pushing you forwards. “wallet.”

you groaned, pushing your ass back against him, smiling at the way his hand tensed on your side. “no please?”

he stared at where you were rubbing against his length. “i’m either cumming in a condom or your ass. your choice.”

he gave you a smug look when you turned your head to giggle at him, but his face almost completely dropped when he realized you were considering it.

“okay,” you said. “condom. this time.”

jeonghan’s cock flinched against you again, to which you responded with a wiggle before pushing off him and walking to the kitchen to retrieve a foil packet from his wallet, leaving him staring after you dumbly. when you turned around to walk back towards him, he had shoved his pants over his knees, leaning back heavily as he stroked himself using the hand you had so graciously wet for him. you gulped involuntarily, suddenly aware of how much saliva was gathering around your tongue as you tore open the condom.

he watched you kneel between his knees, his hand stilling at the base of his cock as you lapped a wet line up the underside of it, tongue swirling over his head. he tasted like you, and you had to swallow again before you rolled the condom onto him. you stood, turning your back to him as you hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your sweats and leaned over slightly as you pushed the fabric over your ass. jeonghan’s hand tightened around himself involuntarily, his other going to feel you. squeeze your hip, pinch at the soft flesh. guide you down onto him as you braced yourself on his knee. you pulled at the underside of your thigh, spreading yourself wider as you sat back onto him, sighing as he stretched you out.

“fuck,” he choked out, both hands gripping at your waist to stop you from sinking more. “shit, you feel really good.”

you whined, rolling your hips back in need. “i’ll feel even better if you let me sit.”

he chuckled. “why do you think i stopped you?”

you looked over your shoulder. “two pump chump?”

jeonghan pulled you down onto him harshly, forcing a squeal out of you as you curled over yourself. it had been a long time since anything had been this deep, and you could already feel your release building with one touch of his head to your spot. “shut up.”

“shutting up,” you muttered, voice almost cracking when he held you still and rutted up into you.

“god, i can’t believe it took us this long,” he said, steadying you with his grip so you could roll your hips on his lap. “to get me in you.”

“m-maybe if your roommate ever went to cl-lass,” you stuttered, beyond pleased that you could finally relieve this frustration as you slowly bounced on his lap. “f-fuck, you feel better than i imagined.”

you could hear the grin on his face when he spoke again, running his fingers up your side. “have i been fucking you in your dreams, baby?”

“well, you sure - mf! - haven’t been fuh-hucking me in real li-” your sentence getting cut off by a whiney moan when his hips bumped up to meet yours. “god, fuck, jeonghan!”

he pulled himself off the couch, pressing his chest against your back. he pushed up into you, almost desperately, his teeth running across your shoulder as much as his lips did. you gasped, leaning back into him, spreading your legs until your knees hooked on the outside of his, his unrelenting fingers finding your clit, just to make you beg as he pumped in and out of you.

“please what, baby?” he asked sweetly, despite the hair sticking to his sweaty forehead and the way his eyebrows knit together.

“p-please, can i cum again?”

jeonghan groaned, almost taken aback by your complete switch in attitude. while he knew you liked it when he tried to take control, he had never seen you go down without a fight. “who knew all you needed to stop being such a brat was my cock?”

“p-please, h-hannie…” you whimpered, and he could feel your walls constricting around him. “please, i wanna cum.”

desperation became obvious in his own hips, just by taking in your face. he had gone into this with every intention of milking you of everything you had, but he was man enough to admit that your begging made him too close to cumming to stop. “get my dick wet, darling.”

your mouth gaped in a silent cry as you crumpled into his chest, your legs twitching inwards as he moved his hands to your hips and continued thrusting up into you, your walls squeezing him tight until he let out a low groan, slowing his movement until he eventually stilled completely.

the two of you stayed there, a sweaty, entangled mess on the couch, both just trying to catch your breath.

“fuck,” you said finally, and jeonghan thought he couldn’t have said it better himself.

after two packets of slightly overcooked ramen, a conversation about how leaving a used condom on cheol’s bed would not be a funny prank, and a generous spray of febreze fabric refresher, jeonghan watched proudly as you walked with a slight unintentional wobble towards his bedroom, assuring you he’d be right there as he rinsed out your bowls in the sink.

when he did finally join you, you were laying on his bed with your phone to your ear, and he crawled up over you as you giggled into the phone, knees spreading to accommodate. “hannie’s. i told you, i’m staying here for the weekend.”

jeonghan could hear mingyu’s voice on the other end, saying something about how he thought it was next weekend for some reason and that getting laid would be good for you, but he just smiled as he kissed at your neck, your free arm settling around him comfortably.

“why are you calling this late?” you asked, looking over at jeonghan’s bedside to confirm the time. “are you guys going out?”

“yeah, of course. rockbox in an hour. you guys in?”

you tipped your head to the side as jeonghan continued his gentle kisses up your neck, hands running up under your shirt, making you sigh softly. “nah, we have plans. cheol and soonyoung are there, though.”

“okay, no worries,” mingyu said, then paused. jeonghan took the opportunity to bite just below your jaw, gently rolling his hips between your thighs to make you aware of what he was thinking. “are you busy right now, or can you talk?”

a pang of guilt ran through you as you held your breath, trying to not audibly react to the movement against you. you hadn’t been able to sit and chat with your best friend in way too long. “i’m, uh, a little busy? maybe we could get lunch tomorrow?”

jeonghan pulled back and glared at you, a stark reminder that he had asked you to not make plans, but you just put a finger to his pouting lips.

“as long as it’s after noon, i’m down.”

“okay,” you said, brushing your fingers across jeonghan’s cheek and pushing his hair behind an ear. “one? two? stew?”

“one’s good,” mingyu said, his voice sing songy. “okay, i’m gonna get ready. have fun! use protection.”

you rolled your eyes. “everyone keeps saying that.”

“yeah, because you guys are crazy and no one wants to risk it.”

after your byes, you hung up and looked at jeonghan, who was still staring at you with disdain. you sighed. “it’s just lunch.”

“i said no plans,” he reminded you, pouting. “now we have to go get lunch with mingyu when i could be fucking you stupid in my roommateless bedroom.”

“no we don’t,” you said, running your hands through his hair. “i have to get lunch with mingyu. you can do whatever you want.”

“oh, so i’m not even invited?” his eyebrows raised at you. “you do realize i switched a shift so i could spend all day with you, right?”

you giggled. “hannie, i would love to spend all day with you, but i haven’t sat and gotten lunch with mingyu in a month. i miss my best friend.”

he groaned, burying his face in your neck. “stop making sense, i’m trying to be mad at you.”

“you can still be mad,” you said, your fingers softly massaging against the back of his neck. “i like it when you think you’re punishing me.”

he groaned again, hating how you could so easily say the perfect thing to make him forget about anything else. “you’re evil.”

you giggled. “and it turns you on.”

he adjusted against you, trying to ignore his increasing arousal despite his original intentions. “sometimes, you seem like my own personal demon.”

“oh, fun,” you vocalised, brushing your fingers knowingly through the hair behind his ear, triggering a huff as you hit your favorite soft spot of his. “two demons trying to torture each other.”

he laughed as he raised his head, propping it up with a hand. “would you consider this torture?”

“maybe for normal people,” you said, sneaking a kiss onto his lips. “but we’re demons, remember? this is fun for us.”

his lips pouted, less to make a point and more because it was their comfortable, natural state after your lips leave. “i think i like you a lot.”

your face burned. it wasn’t the first time he had said something to that effect, but it made your chest feel funny nonetheless. “that’s reassuring.”

“i’m serious,” he said. “i really like you. and i don’t like people.”

you smiled softly. “i like you, too, yoon jeonghan.”

he adjusted his elbows on either side of you. “i want to be your boyfriend.”

you stared at him. “nah.”

“aye,” he cocked his head, making you laugh. “you said all i had to do was ask!”

“i’m kidding,” you said, putting your hands on either side of his face, pushing his cheeks in. “do you want to meet my parents, too?”

he looked at the wall behind his bed. “maybe that can wait.”

giggling, you pulled him into a kiss. “okay, boyfriend.”

the smile on his lips lingered as you kissed him, and he decided it was time to make sure everyone knew you were officially taken.

“you could have worn a scarf.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt you stole from jeonghan’s in an attempt to hide the purple marks on your neck over your head. “it’s not my fault he tried to kill me,” you said, tugging on the drawstrings. “how was rockbox?”

“good,” mingyu said, leaning back. “weird. vernon ended up on stage.”

you almost choked on your water. “and i missed it?”

he laughed, then pulled out his phone to show you a video. “seungkwan made him do the features on a beyoncé song. he killed it, though.”

you watched the shaky vertical video of vernon on stage with a boy you knew but never really spoke to, watching in disbelief and laughing at mingyu’s hollering in the background. “wow. bey seungkwan and jay-v. that’s pretty legendary. i can’t believe i wasn’t there.”

mingyu laughed, shoving his phone back into his pocket. “how was your night? productive, obviously,” he said, gesturing to your neck.

“good,” you said reflexively, then exhaled as you looked at your best friend. “like, really good.”

“okay, spare the details, but like,” mingyu tipped his head and looked at you through his lashes. “good good?”

“mingyu, you know i would never say this lightly,” you put your hands on the table. “the best. seriously. man has a surprising amount of stamina for how much he naps.”

“damn,” he sighed and looked away from you. “y'know, that makes sense. i’ve always heard he was good in bed, and you two have some insane chemistry.”

you spotted the waiter coming, and before they were in earshot, you hurriedly said “plus his dick is huge.”

“oh, my god,” mingyu reeled back, then realized what you had done as the waiter put side dishes on your table. as soon as they left, he glared at you. “why are you like this.”

you grinned. “you were curious, though, right?”

he squinted at you. “doesn’t mean you should just offer up the info.”

“when’s the last time i slept with someone?” you asked. “like, really. it’s been, like, almost a year since i hooked up with rubin.”

his brows ruffled as he thought. “damn, is that true? has it really been that long?”

“let me brag,” you pleaded. “please? he’s so hot, i’m gonna lose my mind if you don’t let me talk about it.”

“i don’t know if i can be friends with you anymore.”

“dude, he spit in my mouth this morning.”

“oh-kay, so you’re buying lunch,” mingyu said, sitting up suddenly. “damn, this morning? have you guys just been going at it like rabbits?”

“i don’t wanna hear it,” you said, pointing at him. “you had to tell me about every guy you hooked up with during your 'hoe-liday’ last winter, you can listen to me talk about a guy i’ve been seeing for almost two months.”

“fair enough,” he laughed. “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you like this.”

you groaned, sinking your head to the table. “it sucks.”

he stared at you. “oh my god, his dick made you fall in love.”

“shut up,” you said, lifting your head to land your chin on the table, curling a paper napkin over your spoon. you pouted as you tried to come up with an argument, but failed. “he’s sweet.”

“he’s mean,” mingyu corrected. “but he’s sweet to you.

"and dogs,” you defended. “and kids.”

“oh, so he’s husband material all of a sudden?”

you shrugged. “i’ve dated people much less likeable than yoon jeonghan.”

mingyu sighed, eating some kimchi. “that’s true. we both have.”

“yeah, so stop making fun of me, asshole,” your eyebrows creased as you leaned back and crossed your arms. “try being happy for me for a change. didn’t you want this all along? trying to get me to ask him out?”

“i am happy for you,” mingyu said, showing some genuinity as he laughed, also leaning back as your food arrived. “you just make it really hard sometimes.”

mingyu had the courtesy of dropping you off back at jeonghan’s so he didn’t have to borrow seungcheol’s car to come get you, and as he pulled up to the familiar apartment building, he gave you his usual “say hi to your boyfriend for me,” as he put it in park, quickly checking his phone.

instead of your normal “not my boyfriend,” you looked over at your best friend and bit your cheek. “sure.”

mingyu’s neck nearly snapped to look at you. “wait, what?”

you giggled. “sure, i’ll say hi for you.”

“did you-” he started, then stuttered, trying to figure out what he was asking. “are you guys, like-”

“he asked,” you said shrugging. “i said yes.”

a grin spread across his face. “really?”

“well, actually, i said no. then i said okay.”

mingyu laughed. “yeah that sounds right. wow, y/n got a boyfriend.”

you rolled your eyes, pulling the hood further over your head to hide your involuntarily hot ears as you adjusted to open the car door. “bye, goo.”

“this is my best friend,” he said loudly, making you stare at him with wide eyes as some innocent bystander walked past the car, all while you tried to pull yourself out of the door. “beautiful, right? sorry though, they’re taken, i’m dropping them off to see their brand new boyfriend.”

“you’re embarrassing,” you said, pointing an annoyed finger, grateful the person only looked back once before continuing. “go home.”

“you have done ten times worse to me,” mingyu said, grinning from ear to ear. “have fun with the pretentious asshole that can’t make an americano right, yoon jeonghan!”

that made you laugh despite yourself, and you shot him several expletives before slamming his door shut and running up the stairs.

after punching in the door code that no one had told you but you had seen enough times to know, you announced that you had returned. seeing jihoon’s chair empty on a saturday was strange, but at least seungcheol and soonyoung were up to their usual antics of playing some game extremely poorly.

you stood and watched the screen for a moment. “you know you can catch the arrows, right?”

soonyoung looked at you. “you can catch the arrows?”

seungcheol groaned. “why would you tell him that? i’m actually winning for once!”

you giggled. “if you dodge when the arrows are coming, you catch them.”

“you can dodge?”

from the other room, you heard a muted “hurry up,” and you saluted to the boys as they argued, following your cue to exit the situation.

jeonghan was on his bed when you shut the door behind you. “what are they yelling about?”

you sighed as you walked over to him. “apparently soonyoung didn’t know you could dodge in towerfall.”

he watched you pull off the sweatshirt - the same one he had worn on your first kinda date - to admire the marks he had left on you, then blinked when he realized what you had said. “we play that game all the time, how did he not know?”

you shrugged, then crawled into his waiting arms. “he’s not very observant.”

you sighed as you settled against jeonghan, and he kissed the top of your head. “how was lunch?”

“good,” you said, smiling. “gyu is good. it was nice to catch up.”

jeonghan clicked his tongue. “you guys talk every day.”

“okay, yeah, but,” you adjusted to look at him. “talking on the phone and hanging out with other people is different. we can’t talk about the same stuff.”

“well, what’d you talk about?”

you smiled. “wouldn’t you like to know?”

he squinted at you. “aren’t we supposed to be a team now? no secrets?”

“okay,” you said, fixing his bangs. “what were you and seungcheol talking about in his room yesterday before i got here?”

jeonghan couldn’t help the tiny smile that worked its way into his face. “did soonyoung tell you?”

“i would never reveal my source,” you said triumphantly, knowing it couldn’t have been anyone else, considering jihoon had already left. “also, he was pissed that you kicked him out while he was still sleeping.”

“if i could have just dragged cheol into my room, i would have,” he sighed. “trust me. i can pull soonyoung out of bed, but seungcheol is dense.”

you inspected his lips a moment. “were you talking about me?”

“uh,” jeonghan adjusted under you, putting a hand behind his head. “no, not really. soonyoung got a job, and me and cheol are both working more now. i wanted to talk about getting a bigger place, since our lease ends in the summer.”

you vocalised excitedly. “does this mean you’d get your own room?”

“that’s the idea, yeah,” he said, grinning. “you could stay over more.” and while he hadn’t lied - they had discussed larger apartment options, and decided to start looking by the end of the month - he failed to mention that the main purpose of him isolating seungcheol was to confirm he was crazy for wanting you to join them if they did move.

“i mean,” cheol had said, barely propping himself up in bed. “it might be a bit too early to tell, but you guys seem like the real deal.”

jeonghan spun in soonyoung’s desk chair, arms crossed. “but i’m insane, right? like, we haven’t even slept together.”

“they’re coming over for the weekend, yeah?”

“yeah.”

“so let’s talk about it again on monday?”

jeonghan kneaded at his jaw, exhaling. “yeah, okay.”

now, you had slept together. not only that, but you slept together, all night, in the same bed, and jeonghan woke up with jumbled poetry in his head when he found you curled up by his side. despite living in this apartment for nearly a year, it felt most like home with you in it.

and he had told seungcheol, when he got home from dropping you off for lunch, that he was pretty damn sure he wanted to wake up like that every morning.

he wondered how you would react, if you would want to take the leap and move in with him. part of him felt as though he was taking advantage of your situation for his own selfish want to have you around all the time - you would do literally anything to avoid being in a dorm next year, but your housing budget wouldn’t accommodate for anything more than a goshiwon. while that wasn’t the worst option, you always talked about how much you missed living in a normal space, with a stove. a full sized fridge. a real bathroom, instead of a cramped wetroom. if he were to ask you to live with him, you would likely say yes, but would that put too much strain on your relationship too early? or would you think he was moving too fast and say no? his mind whirred silently as you buried your face in his neck.

“what’s on your mind?”

jeonghan blinked. “nothing.”

“liar.”

he sighed. “you.”

you lifted your head. “am i what’s making your heart beat so fast?”

he hadn’t even realized his pulse had quickened. he swallowed, briefly wondering if he would ever be able to truly hide anything from you. “maybe. what did you and mingyu talk about?”

you laughed. “i was hoping you would forget.”

“i never forget.”

“we talked about a lot,” you said, fiddling with the collar of jeonghan’s tee. “classes, summer plans, boys…”

he raised his brow at the last subject. “boys, huh?”

you smirked at him playfully. “yeah, our waiter was cute.”

he scoffed in your face and you giggled, then flattened his shirt against his chest.

“we talked about you. i told him we were official.”

“how’d that go?”

“he made fun of me, but it’s fine because i told him you have a big dick.”

jeonghan’s hand went from behind his head to cover his eyes, letting out a half-groan and half-“really?”, but the smile on his lips told you he wasn’t mad. “why? why would you tell him that?”

“he’s my best friend!” you laughed.

“okay, why did you tell me that?”

“i’d thought you’d like to know,” you said, pouting slightly. “he might respect you now.”

he uncovered his face just so you could see him rolling his eyes before he tried to sit up. “okay, no more cuddling.”

you whined, trying to keep him in place, but failing. “but i just got here!”

“maybe you shouldn’t have left in the first place,” he teased, getting out of bed to turn off the air purifier he usually only ran at night, but had been too preoccupied to turn off that morning. “i told you i intended to keep you in bed all weekend, but you didn’t care.”

“i’m here now,” you pouted. “in your bed.”

“take a nap, then,” jeonghan said. “i’m gonna eat.”

you groaned. “you didn’t eat while i was gone?”

“too busy pouting in bed. your turn.”

you floundered and whined childishly for a moment as he laughed at you, leaving the room without another word. sometimes you hated how similar you two were, but only because it made you completely aware of just how annoying you were.

when jeonghan returned, you had completely passed out, holding his pillow under your head as you laid on your stomach. he smirked in the direction of the sleeping body and fiddled with a few things - closing the closet door, throwing a rogue shirt into his hamper, etc. - before making his way to the bed to join you.

his touch was gentle. enough to rouse but not frighten. you squirmed slightly, recognizing the way his hand dipped into even the most subtle curves of your body as you laid out comfortably. you gave a noise of approval when it ran over your ass, squeezing slightly. jeonghan smirked again, and you turned under his arm to face him, a soft smile on your lips.

“g'morning.”

“it’s four in the afternoon,” he corrected.

you sighed. “and it’s a good morning.”

“sure is, babe,” he drawled, smiling as you planted a smooch. his hand ran unhurriedly up your back, under your shirt.

you hummed. “are you really horny again?”

“listen,” he mumbled, almost laughing. “i just want to get of much of you as i can, while i can.”

you supposed that was as good a reason as any as you kissed him again, only for him to pull away and straddle the backs of your thighs. he pushed the balls of his palms into your lower back on either side of your spine, and you let out a low moan. jeonghan did this on occasion, treat you to a back rub. he claimed it was because you had the worst posture he had ever seen, but you knew it was an excuse to get his hands all over you, and you couldn’t hide how much you enjoyed it. you adjusted to lay straighter, burying your face in the pillow when he hit a particularly evil knot and had to dig it out with a thumb. you groaned as his hands travelled up your back, sliding the shirt up as he massaged into your shoulders. you sighed as you got up on your elbows and ripped off the shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor, exposing your full back to him, your shoulders and neck littered in his marks. he admired them, even planted small kisses atop a few, then worked his way down your back, curving his hands over your ass.

you muttered a quiet thank you, and he smiled, giving you a succinct “of course” in response. he moved down to your legs, thumbs sneaking in your inner thighs and subtly spreading you out despite your pants. you hummed, pushing your hips to meet his touch, encouraging him to knead at your cheeks.

“have i ever told you you have a great ass?”

you giggled. “it’s average at best.”

“uh, no,” he said, voice pitched upwards in a teasing manner. “i think i’m a really great judge in asses and yours is fantastic.”

“yeah?” you peeked over your shoulder. “what’s so fantastic about it?”

jeonghan’s fingers dug into it, eyes shooting up to meet yours. “well, for starters, it’s connected to you.”

he ran a thumb over your crease, making you let out a small noise in response, and you buried your face in the pillow again. “shut up.”

he smirked against your shoulder, hands running up your back again and one landing on the mattress beside you as he pushed his hips against your ass. “yes, boss.”

you sighed, arching your back to get as much friction as you could while he ground his hard member against you. he sucked at your neck, and your hands dug helplessly into his hair as you whined.

“are we teenagers?” you asked, huffing. “do we have to dry hump or can we fuck like adults?”

jeonghan laughed as he lifted his mouth to ghost over yours. “impatient. if you were better, you would have asked for my cock nicely.”

“better,” you repeated, hating the way a hard wave of arousal washed over you, suddenly wakening your senses like it was from the pacific. “for you?”

the tip of his tongue barely swiped at your lips, your jaw twitching slightly in reaction. “you gonna be good?”

you tried to focus on him, your blown out eyes flickering hopelessly to his lips. “i-i can try.”

and with that, jeonghan yanked your pants over your hips and down your thighs, scooting them down as you hiked your ass up slightly, hoping to tempt him as efficiently as possible. his hands found your ass again, spreading you out as you groaned. “look at you, soaking.”

you bit your lip, making a pathetic noise into the pillow to avoid talking back. “please, jeonghan.”

two fingers ran over you, and you tried to muffle your moan as best you could as your hips moved involuntarily, pushing into his fingers. he smirked down at you, wondering how far he could take you as he messily spread your arousal. “bet you could take two right now.”

“yes,” you said, gasping slightly. “please, hannie, please, i can take it.”

he pushed two fingers into you, barely even scissoring them before pushing in a third, making you bury your face in his pillow as you groaned. “i’ve been fucking you good, huh?”

you nodded frantically, pushing against his hand as steadily as you could. he noted your neediness, and indulged you by thrusting his fingers into you until you were whining rhythmically to his pace. he pulled a finger out, then another, and you instinctively threw a hand back to catch him before he pulled away completely. he laughed lightly, his hand easily overpowering yours and pressing a kiss against your shoulder blade.

“sorry, were you close?”

you exhaled sharply. “that was so mean.”

“i’ll make it up to you,” he said, pulling your hips further off the bed and pushing you further apart. he licked a wide stripe up your core, and you moaned deeply into the pillow, gripping it with all your power as his tongue expertly ran over your clit. “you taste incredible.”

you panted as you turned your head. “i thought you just ate.”

“i have a separate dessert stomach.”

your thighs buzzed and gut fluttered, and you wondered how he always managed to make you weak in the knees, even when his tongue was buried in you. it wasn’t long before you were gripping at his wrist, knuckles white, quaking as his lips guided you through your orgasm, and he lapped at your release, licking wet stripes up your inner thighs as well.

when he backed away, you exhaled again. “jeonghan-”

“what?” he asked, pushing his own pants down his thighs. he stood to drop them to the floor before straddling you again, pulling your hips back against him. “is this what you want?”

your hand found his thigh, urging him towards you. he rubbed the head of his cock, already shiny and scarlet, against your core, and you practically begged on the spot. suddenly, he pushed you into the mattress, pushing his hips against yours but fucking into your thighs. you whimpered, his cock rubbing against you absolutely deliciously, but not at all what you were expecting. he groaned into your neck, snaking a hand up under you.

“god, you’re so wet, i almost don’t even need to fuck your pussy.”

you yelped when his fingers found a nipple and pinched. “h-hannie, please-”

“please, what?”

you squirmed. “please fuck me.”

he looked at you. “you get one more try.”

for a moment, you looked back at him and your mind went blank. “please, hannie, i need your cock.”

he smiled. “was that so hard?” his tone and kisses were sweet, but completely mismatched the frustration bubbling in you as he pulled back, making you moan again as the head bumped over your clit. “do you trust me?”

“yes, baby, please just fuck me before i scream.”

with one hand on his cock, he guided himself into you, a moan tumbling from his lips as he felt you completely unsheathed for the first time. you gripped the pillow in a tighter fist as he filled you out, and it took all your concentration to not squeal in a way that absolutely would have been heard by the entire apartment. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you back onto him as he fucked into you. as you adjusted to him, you began to curse the fact that this was only temporary - you would have to go back to unreliably private quickies in a few short days - and you suddenly got the urge to really savor the way jeonghan’s cock felt in you.

he leaned over you, changing the angle ever so slightly and just enough to make you cry out, and he put a palm at the base of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it slightly as he pushed you into his pillow. “i could fuck you raw forever.”

you tried to catch your breath to respond. “i would let you.”

you internally celebrated the low groan that escaped him, and the way his hips pushed impossibly further into you. externally, you rewarded the movement with a matching moan, though you slapped a hand over your mouth when you heard the game pause in the other room.

“don’t want them to hear you, baby?”

you whimpered into your hand as jeonghan kissed a line up the side of your neck, steadily rolling into you.

“can’t even talk?”

you shakily pulled your hand away from your mouth, trying to stifle your noises with just your will. “cheol already hates me.”

“he doesn’t hate you,” he said, his voice getting slightly more labored as he continued his pace. “i bet he’d love to hear your pretty moans.”

you clamped your hand over your mouth again, resisting jeonghan’s luring the best you could. he smiled against the hollow of your ear, nipping at it slightly.

“i know you want to, baby. just let it out.”

as he spoke, he shifted his hips, making you let out a high toned moan that was barely muted by your palm, and you buried your face in the pillow to avoid jeonghan’s shiteating grin.

“i love the way you sound when i’m fucking you,” he said, his voice never raising above his lowest register. his ability to keep his cool as you were utterly falling apart was perhaps simultaneously the most aggravating and sexiest part of the whole affair. “and you always back up against me like a bitch in heat.”

you reached back for a hand, but he swiftly grabbed your wrist to push it against your lower back. your chest heaved, and you hurriedly added your other wrist to his grip. with one hand restricting your arms and the other pulling your hip back against his, he licked his lips at the sight.

“i’m going to wreck you,” he panted. “i’m going to make you forget anyone you ever fucked before me.”

you let out harsh breaths as your chest pushed into the mattress. “already have,” you managed, peeking best you could over yout shoulder to the glorious view behind you. you enjoyed the way his tongue shot out between his lips, the way he watched his cock fill you tightly. you even liked the way his hair flopped over his eyes, even if you thought he was in need of a haircut. but you especially liked that he looked like he got lost in you. like he would never want anything but you.

you came fast and hard, squeezing him temptingly as you whined into the pillow. with that, he pulled out and rolled you over, fingers hooking at your pants to pull them off completely. you bicycle kicked to help him, then practically pulled him into you as his lips crashed into yours, hands pulling you as close as he could while you both repositioned your bodies. your hand went down to position him at your entrance again, and you gasped into his mouth when he slid into you again. his teeth tugged at your bottom lip, one hand gently massaging the back of your neck as you whimpered against him.

“you’re being so good for me,” he muttered, purposefully brushing his lips against yours with every syllable. “have i finally tamed you?”

your legs wrapped around his waist. “no chance in hell.”

he grinned, letting you pull him into more sloppy kisses as he steadily pulled another orgasm from you, and you couldn’t help but want him to cum with you. his eyebrows knit as your hands dug into the hair at the base of his head, eyes barely focusing on your lips as you begged for him to cum in you.

“you’re evil.”

you could barely smile. “and you love it.”

you choked slightly, body edging into overstimulation as you came again, and jeonghan pushed up off of you to better chase his own high. he pumped into you, hard and rough, for a few more seconds before you felt suddenly empty and he was shooting hot ribbons of cum up stomach and chest.

you bit back a moan, arching your back slightly as he stared down at your chest, leaning down to lick his cum off your nipple. you gripped his hair again, squirming as he sucked lightly, lapping more cum towards the peak. you tugged at his roots slightly, pulling him up to kiss you before he got you hot and bothered again when you weren’t sure you could handle more.

“i can’t believe you pulled out.”

jeonghan laughed in your face. “i asked if you trusted me.”

you pouted. “i thought that meant you were going to choke me out.”

he kissed you again after a short chuckle, then sat up to grab tissues. “maybe next time.”

he didn’t say it like it was a promise, but he kept it like it was one.

and when your weekend of nonstop bedroom antics was over, you admittedly had fulfilled yourselves enough that the following privacy draught was almost bearable. sure, jeonghan asked you a couple times to come sit on his lap while he worked on lab reflections, and yes, it was much less innocent than one would think, but the two of you managed to keep unfortunate walkins to a minimum, which was only made possible by finally getting it out of your system.

also because you decided your thursday 7:30 was barely worth it most weeks, and jeonghan was always happy to run over to your dorm to fool around for a few hours while your roommate was in class.

#lol #seventeen smut #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #yoon jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan smut #hannie #i wrote dis

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whump-town · 3 years

Text

You Dance With Tears In Your Eyes

Summary: a college AU set up in the late 80s/early 90s with football star and quarterback Derek Morgan and his secret boyfriend Hotch-- it's not a happy story but I don't think I really have to warn you guys about that anymore

Also, a little based on a story my grandmother told me about my great uncle and his partner. Never met my great uncle but everyone says I'm a lot like him, I think they just mean gay but don't know how to say it

Warnings: homophobia, violence, racism *I mean it when I say homophobia*

Pairing: Derek Morgan/Aaron Hotchner

@yourlocalheartbreaker

The title is from Frank Ocean's song Self Control

Now and then you miss it, sounds make you cry Some nights you dance with tears in your eyes I came to visit, 'cause you see me like a UFO That's like never, 'cause I made you use your self-control And you made me lose my self-control, my self-control

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Living shouldn’t be reduced down to what it is, the bare bones of things that don’t even make Derek Morgan who he is. He lives by them anyways, stupid rules. Social norms, Aaron always clarifies because even when those silly rules drown them Aaron needs to be concise. Social norms dictate every inch of life and for once Derek wishes he were the type of person who could be given that inch and take a mile. They’re the reason he can’t hold his boyfriend’s hand in public. Why he can’t kiss Aaron on New Years’ and why he is reduced down to loving his roommate. Why, at this rate, he’ll never marry or adopt children, or why he could lose any career he goes into because some nosy asshole finds out his partner isn’t a woman. And, yes, he knows there are anti-discriminatory laws but he’s a black gay man. The world is stacked against him.

It makes him so angry. He’s blinded by the irrational of it all, why nothing can just be simple for them. Aaron tries to comfort him but Derek’s anger scares him, he doesn’t understand it. Aaron has long lost the ability to decipher the complexity of human emotions. Still flinches at loud noises like he’s expecting each bump to be accompanied by the pain that laced his childhood and has to ask, around every turn, if Derek’s angry with him. He can’t tell. Everything looks like anger. With Derek, it frequently is. They cope in very different ways, Aaron chooses nothing. Shutting down all his emotions until he cracks and that’s worse. It’s worse than Derek’s anger. That doesn’t mean Derek doesn’t hate the way he quakes with fury. If not because it feels childish to be blinded by emotions then because it scares Aaron.

There are a million other things, at twenty there always is. It’s his philosophy class with all this bullshit reading he doesn’t understand. He has to ask Aaron for help and Aaron has to ask him for help with things too but it makes Derek feel stupid. It’s philosophy, it can’t be that hard. That’s the same way Aaron feels about calculus. There’s maintaining rent and going grocery shopping and football (games, practice, gym, and training).

College had been a learning curve. Getting up at four in the morning to go to the gym for football had been the hardest thing in the world without his mother flicking his bedroom lights on and off or Desiréecoming in to smack him in the face with a pillow. There’s no one in the entire world in charge of getting him out of his bed other than him and, in his freshman year, while he had thought sleeping on that impossibly hard mattress would leave much to be desired, and it did, he found himself glued to his every morning. Not wanting to leave the safety of its flimsy comfort.

Sharing an apartment worked wonders, having a workaholic boyfriend was really the best trick. An unexpected answer to his problems but, also, a very cute one. He managed to add one person to the list of people that cared about where he was, that made sure he got up in time to make it to the gym and practice, and asked if he had a bad day or rub at his sore muscles.

Derek rolls over in bed, not as surprised as he should be to find the other half empty. “Aaron?” He still searches, runs his hand over the sheets as if he doesn’t know that if Aaron were in the bed he’d be right there. Hogging the bed and the blankets, pressed up against Derek’s back snoring like there’s no tomorrow. “Aaron?” Derek sits up and squints, grimaces at the light trailing in from the open door.

Aaron’s hunched over the beginnings of an essay, pen ink smeared across his left palm and steadily chugging along. He can write a full essay in the span of a night, five hours for about 3,000 words but if it’s a short synopsis sort of thing then about an hour. Despite this astonishing gift, Aaron still makes himself write all his essays weeks in advance and spends days upon days proofreading and combing through them for the tiniest mistakes. He’s a straight-A student so he’s doing something right but Derek gets mostly As too with far less hastily. Aaron is just extra.

Derek steps up to the desk, doesn’t make a sound as he leans up against the side of the chair. He wraps an around Aaron’s shoulders, leans down to kiss his head. “It’s two,” Derek informs him, “come to bed. Please?” Derek’s exhausted. He feels the regret of being pulled from his warm bed. Each second feels like twenty minutes, the world sluggish and too cold. He leans closer to Aaron, wrapping himself around him. “You always smell so good,” Derek whispers. He presses his face into Aaron’s hair, catching the mix of scents.

“Bakery,” Aaron grunts. His answer as simple and concise as he always is but even more so now that he’s tired. Aaron had worked an on-campus job for the entirety of their freshman year but after he got a scholarship that would roll over each year after that (so long as he kept a certain GPA) he started at a bakery down the street from their apartment. Derek had always liked the way Aaron smelled, gently masculine in a way only Aaron could ever be, and it had mixed with the scents of softly, perfectly made baked goods he works around all day. Cookies and cakes. He’s picked up a few tricks, Aaron can make moist cakes and perfectly round cookies but his bread… It’s the best food Derek has ever eaten.

The first time Aaron made bread Derek got down on one knee and confessed “Aaron Hotchner if I could marry you I’d take you to the damn chapel right now”. To which he was lovingly pushed and told to “shut up” but fresh-baked bread (even if Aaron had taken a single bite and concluded he hadn’t ratioed the sugar right) is heavenly. He’s gotten much better since and it’s really hot when he’s standing there in one of his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up taking his stress out on the dough.

And he can’t tell anyone. Can’t boast about his hot ass boyfriend or the bread he makes from scratch.

Derek crouches down by the chair, knows he’s winning when Aaron breaks from his work just enough to glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “Can’t this wait just a little bit?” he asks. “I want to sleep with my boyfriend and he’s out here writing an essay that isn’t due tomorrow and likely isn’t due for the next month.” Derek reaches up, strokes a strand of hair back behind Aaron’s ear. His fingers graze an open wound and Aaron flinches away, the pain unexpected.

The bare bones of Aaron Hotchner are the along the same in principle to Dereks-- all things that he cannot change. Even as he stands as tall as Derek, their bodies are not the same. Derek is lean from years of football, his arms stretch his shirts. He looks like an athlete, has the benefit of the doubt whenever he’s around men. His teammates walk naked in front of him, no one for even a second thinks anything of it. No one suspects him of the atrocities he commits within his apartment.

Aaron doesn’t have any of that. His hair is a little too long, hangs down in his face when he’s studying or reading. Nothing about him is hulk-ish, he’s delicate with his movements and while it had been something that Derek was immediately drawn to it also draws other’s attention. Bad attention.

The same boys that play around with Derek, snapping towels at him while he walks, terrorize Aaron.

Derek wishes there was something he could do because if this were anyone else- if Aaron were a girl- he could. It wouldn’t be dangerous, not the sort of thing that would cost him his football scholarship or get him stabbed and left to bleed out in an alley or beat within an inch of his life. He would have to out himself to protect Aaron, to stand in front of his teammates that coach keeps calling his family and tell them to keep their fucking hands off his boyfriend. No. No, because something like that would be death. It would be worse than what’s already happening. And Aaron won’t allow it.

All Derek can do now is await the next attack, leave Aaron someplace to come home to. Give him a place to be, without burden, without hesitation. It’s not enough. They’ll kill him. Derek knows they will and it’ll be fun for them, only a matter of time.

“Come to bed with me,” Derek asks one more time. He doesn’t want to sound entirely needy but he really doesn’t want to go to bed without Aaron. The bed is lonely.

With a sigh, Aaron nods and Derek stands up, moves out of the way so Aaron can throw pens in his textbooks to mark his place. He steps away, from the desks, yawning as he makes lazy lurches forward towards their bedroom. “Turn the damn--” Derek rolls his eyes and reaches over and turns off Aaron’s desk lamp.

He passes Aaron in the doorway, places his hand on his hip, and reminds him of their objective. “Bed,” he mumbles and Aaron nods, jerking back to life as he steps further into the bedroom.

Derek lays down on the bed, crawls over to his side, and gets comfortable while he watches Aaron lazily strip down to his underwear. He gets caught in his head again for a moment, standing there just blankly staring at the dresser. Trying to figure out if he should put on pajamas or not. Derek calls his name and opens his arms. “Come here, “ he says and Aaron smiles. Sheepishly he comes, blushing as he crawls into the bed and where Derek instructs him. Humming, pleased, when Derek brings the blankets up over them. His eyes are already closed, head tucked under Derek’s chin when Derek wraps his arms around him. Pulls him close, tight.

He’d read in a book about deep pressure, its effect on the parasympathetic nervous system. He’d studied Development Psychology for some time, thought about all the ways in which it checked every box of his interests. He thinks he might want to be a teacher. That’s where he learned about the importance of the bond between guardian and child. Where he learned a hug sometimes really is a fantastic answer to the most startling problems.

It’s also the fastest way to get Aaron to sleep.

“Tighter,” Aaron whispers. He can’t quite feel Derek’s bones pushing into him, the hammer of his heart still too strong. He groans, choking up a laugh when Derek does just that. Holds him tight, makes him ache with the proximity, his inability to move.

Derek doesn’t mind, he’s got an armful of bakery boy. Couldn’t be more content with anything else.

0000000000000000

All things considered, Derek didn’t actually face that much scrutiny when he told his mother about the stupid twisting and turning feeling in his stomach when Martel Harris put his hand on Derek’s back. Leaned in too close and Derek could smell the cologne he wore and feel his proximity like lightning across his skin. He’d thought it was just nerves but at the end of a football match Martel lifted him up, threw him up in the air, and God that had felt better than flying. Lit him up inside like he was something, someone.

Desiréecried and Sarah wouldn’t speak to him for a week, opposite reactions because of the same fear. Their mother always said the two of them were two halves of the same coin-- too alike to get along and too different to ever get away. They came around, their mother’s gentle hand always the voice of reason. Three stubborn as all hell kids, too much like their father. That’s what she tells the three of them, tears swelling in her eyes as she proclaims that none of it matters. Orders Desiréeto stop crying tells Sarah to get over herself. She loved and married a black man despite the death threats that followed them everywhere they went. Despite the people that called it blasphemous. Called it sin. As if love could be such a thing.

Her mother told her not to come home, not to call. She wouldn’t do that to her son, she knows it won’t change a thing. There’s something about love that makes you blind to the small pains. She never looked back twice, never reached out to her parents. She chose love and Derek will too.

But that doesn’t mean the fear goes away.

It doesn’t actually change a damn thing.

Standing in the tiny bathroom attached to Derek’s friend’s bedroom Aaron leans over the sink, letting Derek rub

shampoo through his beer-drenched hair. “I just don’t understand why they have it out for you,” Derek mumbles, his voice has deepened, his frustration laced confusion evident. They’re in a rather suggestive position, Derek’s body keeping Aaron bent over the sink-- ass to groin. Aaron shoots him a look out of the corner, a pretty clear “look at us right now and take a guess at why”. Derek ignores the look, he’s rather good at ignoring Aaron’s sharp looks. He shakes his head, grumbling some more to himself and gently working the shampoo out of Aaron’s hair. He leans closer, Aaron groaning as the sink bites into his stomach, and smells his hair. Derek groans, unsatisfied with what he finds. “Smells like strawberries with a slight undertone of beer.”

Sounds about as close to a win as they’re getting. “That’s as good as it’s going to get,” Aaron mumbles, grateful when Derek sits back up. While Aaron’s come to terms with the particular hand he’s drawn in the terms of college social lives Derek isn’t as quick to accept. He feels hopeless, a feeling he thought he’d escaped upon leaving Chicago and everything Carl Buford. Aaron can’t stand to see that look, the one he’s grown so used to seeing after events like this.

He pulls a towel down off the rack, starts trying to dry his hair. This isn’t the reason he keeps his hair short but it’s certainly a helpful addition to keep in mind. “Don’t overthink it, it’s not your fault.” Aaron could go blue in the face trying to keep Derek from coming up with a mile-long list of all the reasons why that’s simply not true. The truth is, it’s really not Derek’s fault. No one even knows about them. Their relationship isn’t the reason why Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is poured his cup of cheap, smells like piss, beer over Aaron’s head.

Not that what happened downstairs can just be so beautifully summed up as just that. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is had grabbed Aaron as he was walking in, doing as Derek instructed by coming in the screened-in door at the side of the house. “Who’s dick did you come to suck?” and Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is cupped Aaron’s cheek. Dug his thumb into the wound he created and smiled, grinned happily at the sight of Aaron trying so hard to getaway. Hunter’s grip relaxed and as soon as it did Aaron was blinking the beer out of his eyes. “Get the fuck away from me,” Hunter shoved him, hard. “Faggot.” Aaron hit his hip on the counter but said nothing, he’ll leave the bruise for Derek to find another night.

“I should say something to that pig,” Derek’s distracting himself with putting everything back in the bathroom the way it was before they came in. Straightening out the rug and fixing the other towels. “Let me catch him trying something--”

Aaron can’t take it, all of Derek’s pointless anger, his stupid guilt. He’s just had beer poured down his back. He can’t even accept Derek’s sweatshirt to replace his smelly shirt, can’t walk out of here wearing his boyfriend’s sweatshirt without getting shanked. The beer smells awful but he’s fairly certain getting stabbed is a whole lot worse. Derek doesn’t have to deal with that. No one messes with him because no one thinks to. “It’s because of how I look!” He’s shaking, bangs hanging down in his face still damp but no longer dripping water down his face. “You? You look normal. You get to walk around with all your football buddies, no one bats an eye at the quarterback, Derek. At least you like women too!” He points to himself, digs his finger into his own chest. “Me? I look the part. I can’t even pretend. Everyone knew, the whole world knew before I did!”

Derek just stands there, caught in the headlights trying to figure out what to say.

He wipes his eyes, jerks away from the hand Derek tries to put on his arm. “No. No!” he can’t do touch right now. Not like this, not when his body won’t hold still and his knees keep trying to buckle. It happens, this panicked cornered feeling, and usually Derek would hold him down. They’d sit on the floor and Derek would hold his arms down to his chest and they’d just sit like that until Aaron can breathe again. Bones against bones until Aaron feels the fractures of his humanity coming back together but for now, right now? He can’t do it. He can’t be touched.

“I want to go home,” he manages, lower lip quivering despite how much he wants to hold it together. “Please take me home.”

Derek just stares at him, stands there, and watches Aaron cross his arms over his chest and curl in, trying to squeeze the panic out himself. “Okay,” he caves. “Go on, I’ll follow you down.” It’s degrading, humiliating the fact that they can’t even leave this room together. Aaron’s upset and Derek can’t do anything about that right now. It’s not safe until they’re home.

It’s never safe.

With his hair dripping into his face Aaron stumbles in the dark. His shirt is soaking wet, stuck to his skin, and freezing him as tramples down a thin stretch of grass between houses. He wishes he had Derek’s sweatshirt. Something warm. At least something to cover his arms. It had been a stupid idea coming here right after getting off work. The bakery is so impossibly hot and after getting off his shift all he wanted was to be with Derek. To sit in whatever little room Derek could guarantee was safe and drink whatever cheap crap Derek brings him from downstairs. Just sit and listen to the music filtering in from downstairs.

“Hotchner!”

He freezes-- a deadly mistake.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

He knows what happened to Derek. In the hush of the night, laying facing each other in the dark, Derek had told him. Each word a puff of hot air against Aaron’s face, hitting the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. It was supposed to be even, Derek’s intention was to express alikeness. He’d seen the scars, no matter careful Aaron was about the light when he thought things were headed in the direction of nakedness, Derek saw them. He hadn’t said anything that time, run his thumb over the one on Aaron’s chest but kept up his ministrations. Acted as if he didn’t until that moment in bed.

Aaron still hasn’t found the courage to be honest about his own childhood.

Derek comes around the back, half-expecting tonight to go like it always does. Except Aaron hasn’t had any alcohol and he doesn’t come stumbling around the porch to greet Derek from the darkness. There are no stolen kisses or hushed laughter. No Aaron. Derek has half a mind to shout out for him, he couldn’t have gone off far, but then he sees him. Derek sees them. The moonlight shining down casting this awful hue between the houses. He sees Hunter draw his foot back and he can’t hold it back. Won’t let this go on. “Hunter!”

The second that Hunter’s attention is away from him, Aaron slumps to the ground. His blood smeared against the house. He’s still breathing, awful ragged breathes that shoot blood off his lips. He sees Derek in the moonlight, rushing past him. Aaron wishes he wasn’t a coward. Between each blood speckled breathe, he wishes that he wasn’t a coward and had just told Derek. That way he would understand Aaron can take it. He spent his childhood taking beatings for just being alive. At least now it was something coherent. Being beaten for being gay requires at least knowing something about him. His father couldn’t even bother with that.

But Derek doesn’t understand.

Aaron never told him.

He’s pulled down, out of orbit, and back to Earth when Derek squats down beside him, cradles his head in his hands. “Aaron?” he calls out, but Aaron can’t force his eyes to move from the dirt. “Can I--” Derek doesn’t know where to put his hands. If he can put his hands anywhere. “I’m going to-- to lift you, okay?” It’s not a matter of if he’s strong enough. He benches more than his own body weight and that’s significantly more than Aaron’s. He’s just not sure if Aaron’s going to fight him and if Aaron fighting him is good or bad.

“Lean forward,” Derek whispers, cupping the back of Aaron’s head and directing it into his shoulder. He turns, manipulates both their bodies and winces each time, no matter how gentle and calculated his movements are, Aaron still cries out. He still hurts him. “I’m sorry,” becomes his mantra. The only words he can manage out around the tears, the only thing he can get past the thickness in his throat.

Sorry he didn’t stop this sooner.

Sorry that he keeps hurting Aaron.

Sorry they couldn’t be other people. In other places. In another time.

Sorry that it’s all for nothing, that there’s no way this ends well for either of them. They’re going to end up dead or alone but certainly separate.

The second Derek has him in his arms Aaron grips his shirt tightly in one blood-stained hand. He rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, soaking in his warmth. “Home?” he asks, voice breaking.

“We’re going home.”

Aaron wakes up alone in bed.

He’s completely naked, laying with three blankets pulled up over him. One that he recognizes is from the living room. There’s one of Derek’s homemade sock heating pads digging into his sore ribs where he rolled over onto it, he can feel more of them underneath him. He’s been laying here for a while. None of the socks are warm anymore. He’s on Derek’s side of the bed, facing his nightstand, and watches Derek’s blurry alarm clock change time. 1:36 passing to 1:37 to 1:38 just waiting for the fuzzy fingers in his brain to ease up. To allow him to think.

It’s Saturday.

Derek’s off at a football game, not due back for hours. Not until tonight, long after Aaron’s gone to bed.

For an overwhelming moment, his eyes fill with tears, desperation, and solitude creating an awful twist in his stomach. He doesn’t want to be alone. Protectively he draws his knees up, tries to knot himself up, and create a mangled ball. His heart picks up, anxiety increasing as he lays there. He wants Derek. He doesn’t want to be alone.

On the phone’s first rings he curls in tighter, overwhelmed by his own crying that he presses his face into Derek’s pillow and ignores it. He’ll let the machine catch it-- that’s the whole reason Derek bought it. With a sharp end, muffled by the blanket he pulls up over his head, a voice comes through. The machine catching the voice mail.

“Aaron, sweetheart? This is Fran, Derek’s mom? I’m sorry to keep calling sweetie but Derek’s awake now. He’s worried, says you should have woken up by now. I can send Sarah to come get you, Derek told me what happened last night. Please call me back? I hope you’re okay.”

He lays in confused silence, trying to process why Derek’s mother would call him. She calls all the time and occasionally he answers to tell her she’s just missed Derek-- he’s off with friends, at the gym, or at class. They know of one another Derek talks about him to Fran as much as Derek talks about Fran to him. But Fran call him? That’s never happened.

Then he catches it-- “Derek’s awake now”-- and he sits up. Pushed from his mind is the pain, his ribs scream and the blood he can see he’s left on Derek’s pillow. Derek’s awake now. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is is on the football team. An offensive lineman. A guy whose entire job is to protect Derek but now he knows, he has to know.

Derek’s awake now.

He throws himself out of bed, clipping his already sore hip on the nightstand and staggering for the phone. Tears spilling over his face. What happened while he was sleeping? What did Hunter do?

Fran picks up on the first ring. “Aaron, is that you sweetheart?”

He sniffles, rubbing at his nose with his finger. “Yes, ma’am.” He knows she can hear him crying, his choked sobs as he falls in the direction of the closes chair.

“You had me worried sick,” she says and he can hear that unmistakable fondness in her chastising tone. That must be where Derek gets it from. It makes him smile, even if it’s weak. “How are you feeling, baby? Derek told me what happened. I’m sorry. If I see that boy I’ll wring his neck. Give him a piece of my mind for bothering my boys.”

He just nods, despite the fact that she can’t see that. He knows he should answer her question but he has no idea what he feels. Nothing. He feels nothing as he sits here holding his breath as he waits to ask about Derek. To know what happened because of him. “Is Derek okay? What happened?”

Hunter told a few other team members what he saw. Most brushed him off, Hunters a douchebag, and they like Derek. Others just hate Aaron enough for it to matter to them, enough to what to do something. Or, rather, not do anything. It only took one tackle, a limb bent the wrong way under the weight of three boys.

It was Derek’s knee. A career-ending injury.

A scholarship losing injury.

“Can I--” Aaron chokes. He’s afraid of what happens if Fran says no. “Can I see him?”

“Of course you can.”

Aaron turns away Fran’s offer of a car ride but Desirée still shows up.

He answers the door in a sweatshirt and jeans and knows immediately who it is when he opens it up. Desirée just stares at him for a moment, he can feel all of the seventeen-year-old judgment sizing him up. “You look… awful,” she tells him. She lets herself in, walking past Aaron with one more look. “Mom says I can drive but if you want to do it I have to let you.” She puts the car keys on the counter, sighs as she looks around. “Derek says…” she chews her lip, as she sizes him up again.

He wonders how intimidating he could possibly look to her. Hunched over and wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big for him.

“Would you teach me how to make bread?”

He can’t help but smile, nods without any hesitation.

“Really?”

Aaron nods, “it’s not that hard. More of a-- a waiting game. You have to give the yeast time to rise.”

Desirée has no idea what that means but she nods, “cool.”

He lets her drive. Mostly because his vision is swimming but because he tosses the keys back to her, a clear okay that she can drive, and she beams at him. She likes him. That’s so weirdly important to him.

She has to wake him up when they get to the hospital. The first thing she tells Fran is that he let her drive and Fran smiles at him, shakes her head, and says “you must have a death wish.”

Aaron blushes under the attention, eyes falling to the floor. He barely manages, “drives just like Derek.”

Fran laughs, nodding her head, “she does. Too heavy on the brakes.” Her smile fades a little when she sees Aaron’s sweatshirt, recognizes it from home. Knows it’s Dereks. “Will you let someone look at that,” she asks, too many of his wounds look deep. Cuts that need stitches and a nasty black eye that she knows he hasn’t iced. She’s reminded a little too quickly that Aaron and Derek are still very much kids. Tricky kids. Too old to be told what to do but still wanting direction.

Aaron nods, shying away again from the attention, but nods.

They leave him when the nurse steps in, doesn’t need to say a word. Fran sees him hesitate to lift his shirt and knows. Derek had managed to tell her most of what happened but the morphine made his speech slur, made him emotional. He’d sobbed, high and in pain. Told her what he’d seen the night before. Hunter hitting and kicking at Aaron, the way Aaron slumped forward. How he’d carried Aaron home. Washed the blood off him with a rag. She knew what was under Aaron’s shirt wasn’t something for them to see.

Derek wakes sometime in the middle of the night. The drugs from the surgery are wearing off and with it his blissful escape from the pain. Licking his dry lips he looks around the room, spotting his sisters and frowning as he tries to find his mother. She’s leaning over another cot, on the other side of the room. He watches her, hears the familiar chorus of Blackbird, and watches her stroke Aaron’s forehead, following the line of the relaxed brow.

It makes him smile, his mother used to sing Whitney Houston to him and his sisters to sleep. He told her about Aaron’s obsession with The Beatles, how of all the records the two of them own that’s the only one Aaron will play. Desiréebought the album, his mother told him a week later. She saved up to get it and was eager for her moment to speak to Aaron about it. To be able to befriend her brother’s boyfriend. That’s about the same time Fran began to hound him about bringing Aaron home, to Chicago. She wanted to meet him.

Fran kisses Aaron’s forehead, waiting another moment just to make sure Aaron’s truly asleep before she stands. “He was having a bad dream,” she tells Derek. In truth, he’d been crying in his sleep. In pain, she could tell, and restless. He’d settled with her there and it made her sad to think that maybe he’d just grown too used to sleeping beside someone else. She’d pulled his blankets closer and sang, just as she did with the other three when they were little. Even when they’re twenty, it still works like a charm.

Fran smiles, tries to soothe Derek’s nerves so he doesn’t worry about Aaron. He’s fine for now, sleeping soundlessly. She sits down on the edge of Derek’s bed, cups his cheek, and asks “how are you feeling?”

Derek just looks over to Aaron, his pale parted lips parted and the bandages holding him together. “Is he okay?” He’d been so scared last night watching Aaron sleep. No amount of Tylenol was doing a thing for his pain. Several times he’d sat up in the night and searched for a pulse, counted the far too many seconds separating each of his breathes. Derek thought Aaron might die right there beside him but he’d been more afraid of what might have happened if they went to the hospital.

Fran sighs, stupid love. It’s cute, she has to admit, but so senseless. “He’s sleeping, he’s okay.” She tries to redirect him, “how do you feel?”

Derek looks back over to Aaron. He looks. There’s more than just those pale lips and the bandages. It’s Aaron. He’s sleeping under multiples blankets and looks like himself. How he always looks when Derek rolls over to face him. He believes his mother, she never lies. “My leg hurts,” he whispers, voice cracking. It’s like the entire thing is pulsing, a continuous stabbing feeling. He cries but not from the pain. They betrayed him. The people he so stupidly thought of as his friends. They hurt him like they’d been hurting Aaron.

He should have known better.

He shouldn’t have been so stupid.

This is his fault.

“Derek?” Aaron sits up, hesitating under the combined attention of Derek and Fran.

Fran stands up, nods Aaron over. “Sit with him,” she offers. “I’ll go get a nurse.”

Aaron nods, still waiting, still hesitating to be where he wants to be. Derek motions him closer, manages to move his body over in the bed. Just enough room for Aaron to squeeze in beside him.

“I don’t think I”m supposed to--”

“Lay down.” Derek can see all the bruises and cuts up close again. He brushes his fingers through the hair above Aaron’s ear, turning his palm to his cheek. Gently tracing the outline of a bandage. “Runaway with me,” he whispers. He thought about it all night long while he watched Aaron sleep. “There’s only four more weeks left of the semester.” Aaron’s smart, he’ll get in anywhere he applies. “We’ll transfer someplace else, anywhere else.”

Aaron frowns, he doesn’t like the idea of this impulsivity. Mostly the number of uncertainties that it creates and the questions. Where will they go? How will they know it’s safe? Are they dropping out? Where will they transfer to? What Aaron can’t get into the college that Derek does?

“Hey,” Derek hushes, he strokes his thumb across Aaron’s cheekbone. “Hey, whatever you’re thinking stop. I’m not leaving, not going anywhere you don’t. We do this together, alright?” He smiles, leans forward, and softly knocks their foreheads together. “Four weeks and all of summer break, okay? That’s plenty of time for a smarty pants like you to figure out where we can go.” It had taken less time for Aaron to conclude Illinois was close enough to home for him to go if something happened to his mother but too far away for her or his brother to come to him.

They’ll figure it out.

“Runaway with me?” he asks one more time.

“Okay.”

#criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #hotchgan #mortch #hurt hotch #tw homophobia

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thewidowsghost · 3 years

Text

Of Course You Did - Part One Natasha Romanoff x Johnson! Reader

My good friend, I hope, @procrastinatingsapphictrash asked for a 7 and 10 with Nat. I don’t know if this is what they were wanting, but I just let Jesus take the wheel - Please say somebody gets that reference. Anyway, this is Part One, Probably of Two, possibly three. But yeah, I hope @procrastinatingsapphictrash is happy with this uh, masterpiece(?) I created.

3rd Person POV

"I screwed up Skye!" (Y/n) complains pacing in front of her sister, running a hand through her hair.

Skye had an amused look on her face.

"Stupid rock that gave us stupid weird powers," (Y/n) grumbles.

"Let me guess," Skye says, and (Y/n) stops, looking at her sister. "You accidentally teleported out again?"

(Y/n) groans and runs her hand through her hair again.

"Aren't you supposed to be on a mission with the Avengers?" Skye asks after a moment.

"Huh, yeah, You're right," (Y/n) nods to her twin and with a blink, (Y/n) is standing back inside the Quinjet.

Avoiding the Black Widow's gaze, (Y/n) plops down beside Steve.

Once the Quinjet lands, (Y/n) begins teleporting around, taking out some of the HYDRA soldiers.

After a minute, (Y/n) teleports next to Clint as he begins shooting targets and (Y/n) draws her pistols, shooting some of the other targets.

Natasha drives the truck over a hill and Clint, (Y/n), and Natasha dive off the truck.

(Y/n) sticks close to the redheaded assassin as the two take out HYDRA agents. Once making sure that Natasha would be okay on her own, (Y/n) teleports over and works with Clint for a while.

Clint shoots an exploding arrow at one of the bunkers and there's a flash and something catches the arrow.

"Clint! Look out!" (Y/n) shoves the Avenger out of the way from a laser gun, which grazes her side.

(Y/n) lets out a grunt as Clint drags her out of harm's way. Clint goes to help her out but he catches another flash and draws his bow.

Natasha catches sight of the young woman bleeding onto the snow.

Natasha darts over and presses against the wound in her side. Clint had followed after the flash, "Will someone please take care of that bunker?" Natasha looks up as the Hulk runs through the bunker. "Thank you," she says softly.

(Y/n) lets out a groan as the redhead puts more pressure on the wound.

"Sorry," Natasha murmurs.

After a few minutes, Thor flies over.

"I'll take (Y/n) back to the Quinjet," he says in his deep voice.

Natasha looks a little uncertain but then nods.

Once the group returns to the Avengers' Tower, (Y/n) is rushed to Med Bay where Doctor Cho uses a machine to begin to heal the wound in (Y/n)'s side.

Natasha had shown up, Clint at her side.

"You sure she's gonna be okay?" Natasha asks.

(Y/n) gazes up at the redhead standing over her, and raises an eyebrow.

"There's no possibility of deterioration," Cho tells her. "The nano-molecular functionality is instantaneous. Her cells don't know they're bonding with simulacra."

"She is creating tissue," Banner clarifies.

"If you brought her to my lab, the Regeneration Cradle could do this in twenty minutes."

"Oh, she's flat-lining. Call it Time?" Tony says, coming in with some smoothies.

"Haha," (Y/n) smiles, rolling her eyes at the billionaire. "No, I'm gonna live forever. I'll be made of plastic."

"No (Y/n)," Cho says, smiling at the woman as (Y/n) takes a smoothie from Tony. "You'll be made of you. Your own girlfriend won't know the difference."

"I don't have a girlfriend," (Y/n) says, glancing up at Natasha.

"That I can't fix," Cho says and (Y/n) grins.

"I'd hoped I'd be able to fix that one myself," (Y/n) admits.

"Helen, I expect to see you at the party on Saturday," Tony says and (Y/n) raises an eyebrow.

"Unlike you, I don't have a lot of time for parties," Cho tells Tony. "Will Thor be there?" she asks and (Y/n) giggles.

A few minutes later, Cho let's (Y/n) up from the table. "Wow, that was fast," (Y/n) comments. "Thanks, Dr. Cho," (Y/n) smiles at the doctor.

"No problem (Y/n)," Cho returns the smile.

(Y/n) leaves the room, pulling out her phone. "Skye? How've you been since the eight hours since I've seen you?"

Skye chuckles, "Believe me, I've been bored."

"Invite the team - Fitz, Simmons, Bobbi, Hunter, Mack, Coulson, and May - Stark's throwing a party," (Y/n) says.

"Oh, alright!" Skye says excitedly.

"It's Saturday," (Y/n) tells her twin.

"You staying at the Tower?" Skye asks.

"Yep. I'll see you soon then," (Y/n) smiles. "Love you."

"Love you too," Skye returns.

(Y/n) looks up from the floor, meeting Natasha's silvery-green.

"That was my twin sister," (Y/n) clarifies.

"Well, if she's as sweet as you, we should meet," Natasha says with a warm smile.

(Y/n) smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck.

"See, that's what I was talking about," Natasha says. "See you around."

(Y/n) walks outside to the Quinjet dock to greet her friends.

"It's been a while since I've seen the Avengers," Coulson says as (Y/n) leads the group inside.

"Yeah, last they knew, you were, you know -" May pauses, and (Y/n)'s eyes shine.

Steve steps forward, then pauses, looking at Coulson. "It's nice to see you again," Steve addresses Coulson, holding out his hand for Coulson to shake.

"You too, Captain Rogers," Coulson returns.

Steve nods respectfully to Coulson, then he turns to (Y/n). "Who are your friends?" he asks.

"This is Melinda May," (Y/n) nods to May. "Mack," she gestures to Mack. "Bobbi and Hunter," the two wave. "Coulson, whom you know. Fitz and Simmons," the two scientists were wide-eyed as they look up at the legendary Avenger. "And my twin sister, Skye." Skye smiles warmly.

"Steve, you're making them uncomfortable," (Y/n) laughs, placing a hand on Steve's shoulder and nudging him away.

"Fine," Steve grumbles, walking away to find Sam.

"Go have fun," (Y/n) tells her friends. "Y'all never get a break."

The group splits up, Fitz and Simmons, Coulson and May, then Mack, Hunter, and Bobbi, all going in different directions.

Skye follows (Y/n)'s line of vision as her (H/c) haired sister gazes at the attractive redhead at the bar.

"Hmm, I guess I know who you like," Skye teases.

"Stop!" (Y/n) nudges her sister with an elbow.

"(Y/n), who's this attractive young woman?" comes a familiar voice.

"Back off Stark!" (Y/n) looks up at her friend. "This is my little sister Skye."

"Well," Tony says, taking a step back. "It's nice to meet you."

"And actually, we're twins, so," Skye falters at (Y/n)'s glare.

"I'm twenty minutes older than you," (Y/n) frowns.

"So, still padding after Romanoff, (Y/n)?" Tony asks, changing the subject.

(Y/n) groans, slumping down onto the couch behind her.

"Why don't you go get me a drink?" Skye asks with a nudge and (Y/n) stands back up.

"Okay, just don't let Stark hit on you anymore," (Y/n) says, snapping her (E/c) eyes to glare at Tony.

"Okay. Okay," Tony says. "Anyway, I've got Pepper."

"Now, go!" Skye pushes (Y/n) forward and she smooths out the front of her black suit.

(Y/n) makes her way through the groups of people before she's stopped by Bobbi.

"You going for Romanoff now?" Bobbi asks and Hunter nods.

"You'd better," Hunter says, his accent evident.

"Does everyone know by now?" (Y/n) laughs.

"Yes!" Bobbi, Hunter, and Mack say in unison.

(Y/n) looks over at Natasha, who was still making drinks at the bar.

"Go!" Mack says, his voice deep.

"Okay Mack," (Y/n) shakes her head and continues on her way towards Natasha.

May stops (Y/n) now, Coulson at her side.

"Romanoff?" she asks.

"Did you all just like, team up to get me to go talk to Natasha ?" (Y/n) asks in disbelief.

"We did have a meeting," Coulson says and (Y/n) shakes her head.

(Y/n) walks up to Natasha at the bar.

"How'd a sweet girl like you end up in a place like this?" (Y/n) asks, leaning up against the bar.

"A girl did me wrong," she shrugs.

"Seems you've got a lousy taste in women," (Y/n) says with a smile.

"She's not so bad," Natasha says. "She's an interesting person. Sweet. Cute. Surprisingly gentle for this line of work."

"Sounds amazing," (Y/n) returns.

"She's also a huge dork," Natasha says and (Y/n) looks down at the bar top in front of her. "But chicks dig that. So what do you think?" Natasha looks deep into (Y/n)'s eyes. "Should I fight this, or run with it?"

"Run with it, right?" (Y/n) asks. "What did she do that was so wrong to you?" she then asks.

"Not a damn thing," Natasha murmurs, smiling up at (Y/n). "But never say never."

Steve walks up at the end of the bar, watching (Y/n) as she smiles down at the bar.

"It's nice," Steve says and (Y/n) looks over at the super-soldier.

"W-what is?" (Y/n) asks.

"You and Romanoff," Steve says.

"Uh, that wasn't -"

"It's okay," Steve chuckles. "Nobody's breaking any bylaws. It's just she's not the most open person in the world. But with you, she seems very relaxed."

"No, Natasha," she looks down. "She's just . . . She likes to flirt."

"I've seen her flirt, up close," Steve says taking a beer from behind the bar. "This ain't that. Look, as maybe the world's leading authority on waiting too long, don't. You both deserve a win." Steve walks away and (Y/n)'s head snaps to Steve.

"Wait? What do you mean 'up close'?" (Y/n) calls.

Mack, Bobbi, Coulson, May, Hunter, Fitz, and Simmons leave the party; Skye and (Y/n) are sitting on the couches with the others. (Y/n) and Natasha were chatting and Skye was smirking as she leaned into (Y/n)'s shoulder.

Thor laughs as Clint says, "But it's a trick."

"No, no, it's much more than that," Thor argues.

"Ah, whoever be worthy shall haveth the power," Clint says in a deep voice. "Whatever, man! It's a trick!"

"Please," Thor chuckles, "be my guest."

Everyone goes silent with interest.

"Come on."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Tony says.

Clint stands up and (Y/n) watches the archer.

"Oh, this is gonna be beautiful," Rhodey says and (Y/n) nods.

"Should I have pushed him out of the way?" (Y/n) wonders aloud, a joking tone to her question, and Tony's eyes flash with amusement.

"Clint, you've had a tough week," Tony says. "We won't hold it against you if you can't get it up."

"Is this what the Avengers are like?" Skye asks and (Y/n) nods. "I need to join."

"Well Tremors, I'll put in a good word," (Y/n) murmurs and she and Skye turn their attention turns back to Clint.

Everyone laughs at Tony's joke. "You know I've seen this before, right?" Clint asks.

Clint tries to lift Thor's Hammer but fails.

"I still don't know how you do it!" Clint says in exasperation.

"Smell the silent judgment?" Tony asks and (Y/n) laughs.

"Please, Stark, by all means," Clint says, gesturing to Tony.

Tony clears his throat.

"Oh no!" Maria Hill says.

"Uh-oh!" Rhodey says.

"Never one to shrink from an honest challenge," Tony says.

"Get ready for this," (Y/n) murmurs in her twin's ear. "This'll be great."

"Get after it," Clint says with a smirk.

"It's physics," Tony says, and (Y/n) hides a grin.

"Physics," Bruce says.

"Right, so if I lift it, I then rule Asgard?" Tony asks.

"Yes, of course," Thor says calmly.

"I will be re-instituting prima nocta," Tony tells them.

"God, no," (Y/n) rolls her eyes.

Tony grunts as he tries to lift the hammer.

"I'll be right back," Tony grumbles as he walks away. He comes back a moment later with one of his iron gauntlet gloves.

After this, he recruits Rhodey to help but still, the hammer doesn't move.

Then Bruce tries and when he fails, he roars like the Hulk, making Maria and Skye look at him, a strange expression on his face.

Then Steve stands up.

"Go ahead, Steve," Tony says. "No pressure."

"I've got my money on the Captain," (Y/n) murmurs in Skye's ear and she nods.

Steve rolls up his sleeves and Clint says, "Come on, Cap."

Steve tries to lift the hammer and it makes a creak on top of the table but he doesn't lift it.

"(Y/n), you want a try?" Thor asks and (Y/n) looks around before standing up.

(Y/n) places a hand on the hammer and lifts it off the table. She yelps as the handle crackles with lightning and drops it back onto the table. Studying her hands, (Y/n) didn't even see a scar, and disregards it, sitting back down beside her sister.

"Huh," was all anyone said as they were all looking at her.

"And Widow?" Bruce asks.

"Oh, no, no. That's not a question I need answered," Natasha says, still nursing her beer and still eyeing (Y/n).

"All deference to the Man Who Wouldn't be King, but it's rigged," Tony says, and (Y/n)'s eyes flash with amusement.

"You bet your ass," Clint agrees.

"Steve, he said a bad language word," Maria says and Skye lets out a snort of laughter.

"Did you tell everyone about that?" Steve asks Tony.

"The handle's imprinted, right?" Tony asks Thor. "Like a security code, (Y/n) stole your handprint."

By this point, (Y/n) was looking slightly offended. "Yeah, because I know how to steal someone's whole handprint," (Y/n) says sarcastically and everyone laughs.

"Yes. It's a very, very interesting theory," Thor says, standing up. "I have a simpler one." Thor lifts his hammer. "You're not worthy."

Everyone groans in exasperation but then watch in interest as Thor turns to (Y/n).

The God of Thunder goes to say something but there is a weird mechanical noise and everyone looks around.

"Worthy," comes a hiss, and (Y/n) stands up, looking around.

There is a metal figure standing by the entrance of the hall and everyone looks in that direction.

"No," the figure rasps again. "How could you be worthy? You're all killers."

"Stark," Steve says.

"Jarvis," Tony prompts.

"I'm sorry, I was asleep," the robot rasps. "Or I was a-dream. There was a terrible noise. And I was tangled in . . . In . . . Strings. I had to kill the other guy. He was a good guy."

"You killed someone?" (Y/n) asks.

"Wouldn't have been my first call," the figure says. Everyone else had stood up by this point and (Y/n) was standing protectively in front of Skye. "But, down in the real world, we're faced with choices."

"Who sent you?" Thor asks, his voice low.

"I see a suit of armor around the work," is what comes from the figure, in Tony's voice.

"Ultron," (Y/n) says softly. She'd heard Tony and Bruce talking about a peace-keeping program they wanted to write. Clearly, something had gone wrong.

"In the flesh," Ultron says. "Or, no, not yet." Natasha and (Y/n) exchange a glance. "Not this chrysalis. But I'm ready." Maria had stood up this time, cocking her gun and Thor had readied his hammer. "I'm on mission."

"What mission?" Natasha asks.

"Peace in our time," comes from Ultron.

Suddenly, Tony's Iron Legion bots break smash through the walls and attack the team.

Skye and (Y/n) begin attacking drones that some towards them, Skye using her powers to Quake the droids and (Y/n) makes a sword appear in her hand and she begins cutting through some of the droids.

One of the droids knocks (Y/n) back and she crashes through a bookcase. She sees Steve's Shield and picks it up.

"Steve!" she yells, meeting the blonde's eyes she throws the shield and Steve catches it.

One of the droids gets a blow on Natasha and knocks her back over the bar. (Y/n) teleports in front of the droid and cuts through it, but more advance on her and Natasha pulls her down.

"Sorry," (Y/n) murmurs as she lands heavily on the redheaded assassin.

"Be careful," Natasha says, placing a kiss on (Y/n)'s cheek. She leaps to her feet and grabs (Y/n)'s hand, dragging her up the stairs.

"What about Skye?" (Y/n) asks. "I'll be back." She teleports over to Skye and helps her sister fight the hoard of droids until Ultron is the only one left.

"That was dramatic," Ultron leers. "I'm sorry, I know you mean well. You just didn't think it through. You want to protect the world but you don't want it to change. How is humanity saved if it's not allowed to evolve?" Ultron hisses and Skye takes her sister's hand and (Y/n) squeezes it gently. "With these?" he lifts one of the Iron Legionnaires by the head. "These puppets," he crushes the head in one hand. There's only one path to peace. The Avengers' extinction," this time, Skye grips her sister's hand tighter.

Thor throws his hammer and smashes through Ultron.

"I had strings, but now I'm free," Ultron's voice says, the Iron Legionnaire glowing blue before the light fades.

The next few days were interesting, to say the least, tracking down Ultron and now the Avengers - (Y/n) had forced Skye to go home to SHIELD HQ - were standing in a salvage yard off the African coast.

(Y/n) falters once she catches sight of the two teenagers who were standing behind Ultron.

"Stark is . . . He's a sickness!" Ultron roars.

"Ah, Junior," Tony says and Ultron turns around. "You're gonna break your old man's heart." Ultron eyes (Y/n), Cap, Thor, and Tony, but (Y/n) was watching the teenagers closely.

"If I have to," Ultron returns.

"Nobody has to break anything," (Y/n) says, still watching the two kids.

"Clearly you've never made an omelet," Ultron replies, looking at the female Avenger.

"He beat me by one second," Tony says with a smirk.

"Ah, yes," comes the male teenager's voice, Pietro. "He's funny. Mr. Stark. It's what? Comfortable? Like old times?" Pietro asks, looking down at all the missiles below them.

"This was never my life," Tony says, looking down at them as well.

"You two can still walk away from this," (Y/n) says, meeting each of the twins' gazes.

"Oh, we will," Wanda - the female twin - says, staring back into (Y/n)'s (E/c) gaze.

"I know you've suffered," Steve says, stepping forward.

Ultron scoffs, "Captain America. God's righteous man." (Y/n) raises an eyebrow. "Pretending you could live without a war."

"War and violence doesn't solve everything," (Y/n) says, her eyes narrowing at the android.

"I can't physically throw up in my mouth, but . . ." Ultron fixes his eerie red gaze on (Y/n) again.

"If you believe in peace, then let us then let us keep it," Thor says.

"I think you're confusing peace with quiet," Ultron answers.

"Uh-huh. What's the Vibranium for?" Tony asks.

"I'm glad you asked that because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan," Ultron shoots lasers at Tony, blasting him back against a wall.

(Y/n) strides towards Wanda and Pietro and the Pietro rushes toward her but (Y/n) teleports behind Wanda.

"Come on, kid," (Y/n) says as Wanda begins to attack her. "You can stop this," she says.

"You're right," Wanda says, her Sokovian accent thick, "I can." She waves her hand and throws (Y/n) back against one of the walls. (Y/n)'s ears ring as she staggers to her feet.

(Y/n) spits out blood as she moves into a fighting stance again.

Wanda leaves, and (Y/n) looks around, trying to fix her still spinning head.

Then she looks up and sees Wanda behind Natasha and the assassin's eyes turn red. (Y/n) teleports up, but by the time she gets there, Wanda is gone.

"Nat?" (Y/n) puts a hand on Natasha's knee but the redhead doesn't react. "Come on, Nat," she shakes her leg lightly.

(Y/n), despite still feeling dizzy, lifts the redhead and carries her out of harm's way.

(Y/n) stands over the redhead and fights off the droids off.

The remainder of the droids get fought off by Clint and (Y/n), who were the only ones left in the salvage yard who hadn't been mind-controlled by Wanda.

Natasha, who was still, her eyes red instead of their normal, beautiful green. (Y/n) shakes the thought from her head and picks up Natasha.

"Need help?" Clint asks.

"I've got 'er," (Y/n) says and Clint nods.

"I'll go get the others," Clint says.

"Meet you at the Quinjet?" (Y/n) asks.

"Yeah, I'll see you two in a moment.”

(Y/n) had never teleported with two people, and didn't want to risk hurting Natasha, so she just carries her to the Quinjet.

(Y/n) lies the redhead down on the chairs inside the Quinjet. (Y/n) had packed a spare hoodie, so she rolls it up, and it slides the pillow under the former assassin's head like a pillow.

(Y/n) sees Clint struggling to support both Thor and Steve and (Y/n) runs out to help. (Y/n) throws Steve's arm over her shoulder and helps the super-soldier inside.

"Who knew we super-soldiers were heavy?" (Y/n) says to herself as she lowers Steve onto another set of chairs.

"Mr. God of Thunder isn't light either," Clint adds.

"Are we just waiting for Tony to get Bruce?" (Y/n) asks and Clint nods.

About half an hour later, Tony returns with Bruce, who was unconscious, and Clint takes the stick.

(Y/n) had fallen asleep on her side, her head resting on her left arm, lying below Natasha on the floor.

Natasha had blinked open her eyes as the Quinjet had landed. She looks down at (Y/n), who was lying on the cold, hard floor of the Quinjet, shivering a little.

Clint walks over and wakes (Y/n) up. "Hm?" she sits up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "What's goin' on?"

"We're here," Clint says, and (Y/n) stands up.

Natasha goes to stand up, but stumbles and (Y/n) catches her.

"Slow down there, Romanoff," (Y/n) throws an arm around Natasha's waist to keep her upright.

Clint leads the Avengers up towards a farmhouse, and (Y/n) was right behind the archer as she helps the redheaded assassin up the stairs.

"What is this place?" Thor asks.

"Safehouse," Tony guesses.

"Let's hope," Clint answers as (Y/n) helps Natasha through the door. "Honey, I'm home," Clint says as they enter a living room and (Y/n) tentatively releases her hold from around the redhead, leaving a hand on her shoulder in case she falls.

A brunette, heavily pregnant, walks into the room and (Y/n) smiles at the woman.

"Hi," the woman breathes as Clint steps towards her.

"Company," Clint says. "Sorry, didn't call ahead."

"Hey," the brunette leans forward, kissing Clint.

"Aww!" (Y/n) says softly.

"This is an agent of some kind," Tony says and (Y/n) glances at him.

"Gentlemen, (Y/n), this is Laura," Clint introduces the woman and (Y/n) waves.

"I know all of your names," Laura says with a chuckle.

"Oh, I like her," (Y/n) says and Laura smiles at her.

There's a sound of footsteps and Clint smiles, "Ooh. Incoming."

"Dad!" a little girl cries and Clint scoops her up in his arms.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Clint says. "Hey, buddy," Clint pulls his son into a hug.

"Aww!" (Y/n) says again and Natasha looks at her weirdly. "What, I like kids. I raised my little sister since we were eight."

"These are smaller agents," Tony says and Y/n) laughs.

"Nice Tony," (Y/n) says.

"Did you bring Auntie Nat?" the little girl asks.

(Y/n) lifts her hand off Natasha's shoulder and the redhead walks towards the little girl.

"Why don't you hug her and find out?" Natasha asks scooping the girl up in her arms.

"Sorry for barging in on you," Steve says.

"Yeah, we would have called ahead, but we were busy having no idea you existed," Tony says.

"Dude, we need to get you some help," (Y/n) says, nudging Tony with a laugh. She steps forward. "It's nice to meet you. I'm (Y/n) With no Last Name."

Laura's eyes flash with amusement. "Oh, I like this one."

(Y/n) laughs.

"I missed you," Natasha says, coming to say hello to Laura and (Y/n) takes a step to the side. "How's little Natasha, huh?"

"She's . . ." Laura falters. "Nathaniel."

Natasha's smile falls off her face and she leans down, muttering, "Traitor."

Thor walks out the door and one of (Y/n)'s eyebrows raises.

"Excuse me," (Y/n) says, smiling, before following Steve outside as he follows Thor.

"Thor?" Steve asks.

"I say something in that dream," Thor says. "I need answers. I wouldn't find them here."

Thor twirls his hammer and flies up into the air.

(Y/n) and Steve go to walk inside but Steve stops.

"I'll be back in soon," Steve says, and (Y/n) nods, retreating inside.

"Hi!" comes the little girl's voice and (Y/n) smiles down at her.

"Hey, I'm (Y/n)," (Y/n) says.

"I'm Lila!" Lila chimes in.

"I like you," (Y/n) smiles. "I'm (Y/n). Boop!" (Y/n) boops Lila's nose and the little girl giggles. "How 'bout we go outside and leave the Avengers to their business, yeah?"

Lila nods and leads (Y/n) outside. "I can show you around!"

(Y/n) smiles at the girl's enthusiasm and follows the young girl around the farm until they get back up on the porch.

"Thank you for hanging out with Lila," Laura says as the little girl runs inside.

"No problem," (Y/n) says with a smile. "As I said, I love kids."

"I wanted to let you know that because some of you have to double up, you and Natasha will be sharing a room," Laura tells her, and (Y/n) nods slowly.

"Okay," (Y/n) says, still nodding a little.

An amused expression had crossed Laura's face and her smile had widened.

"Um, I'm going to grab my stuff," (Y/n) says. She smiles before jogging towards the Quinjet. (Y/n) grabs her and Natasha's duffel bags and carries them inside.

Lila runs up to (Y/n).

"Hey, kiddo," (Y/n) greets. "Can you take me up to your Auntie Nat's room?" Lila nods and starts up the stairs, (Y/n) close behind. "Thanks," (Y/n) says, as Lila stops in front of one of the rooms.

(Y/n) knocks lightly on the door before stepping into the room.

"Hi, Nat," (Y/n) says softly.

"Hey," Natasha says halfheartedly, her eyes glazed.

(Y/n) sets the two duffel bags on one of the chairs, then she sits down on the edge of the bed by the redhead's feet.

"Hey, are you alright?" (Y/n)'s voice was gentle and the former assassin's eyes seem to return to their normal - non-glazed - green.

Tears seem to well up in the green eyes and (Y/n) reaches forward, gently squeezing the redhead's hands.

Natasha moves over and (Y/n) wraps her arms around her.

"Hey," (Y/n) says softly. "You're alright Tasha."

"Thank you," Natasha murmurs into (Y/n)'s shoulder.

"For what?" (Y/n) asks, her (E/c) eyes soft.

Natasha pulls back, looking into (Y/n)'s eyes.

A watery smile smiles across Natasha's face.

"You're so clueless," Natasha says, drying her tears on her sleeve.

(Y/n)'s head that - just seconds before had been full of unasked questions - is now buzzing as Natasha leans forward. She feels Natasha's breath on her cheek. Natasha watches her eyelids flutter, then close as their lips meet.

A moment later, Natasha pulls away and finds (Y/n)'s cheeks a bright red.

(Y/n) blinks open her (E/c) eyes and she smiles stupidly.

Steve sticks his head in the door, seemingly not noticing (Y/n)'s bright red cheeks. "There's someone here," Steve says and (Y/n) tilts her head.

"Who?" (Y/n) asks, an eyebrow raised.

"Just come downstairs."

Steve leaves the room and (Y/n) follows, but she also catches the look of disappointment that had spread across Natasha's face. Natasha gets up and quickly follows, taking (Y/n)'s hand.

A blush rises on (Y/n)'s cheeks and Natasha laughs.

"You are so cute," Natasha says softly. Then her eyes widen. "I said that out loud, didn't I?" she asks.

"Yeah, but I thought it was sweet," (Y/n) says and it's Natasha's turn to blush.

Natasha has to release (Y/n)'s hand as they walk down the stairs and into the kitchen.

(Y/n) lets out a noise as someone throws themselves into her arms.

"Skye?" (Y/n) asks, wrapping her arms tighter around her sister. Then she draws back staring at her sister. "I told you to go home," she scolds lightly.

"Fury wanted someone else with powers," Skye says and (Y/n) raises an eyebrow.

"Fury's here?" Natasha asks, and Skye nods.

"He's stalking Stark in the barn," Skye says and (Y/n) laughs.

"(Y/n)," Laura says, walking up and Skye smiles at the woman. "Whose your guest?"

"Oh, this is my twin sister, Skye," (Y/n) says, and Skye waves.

"The one you practically raised?" Laura asks and (Y/n) nods while Skye shakes her head no.

"Really?" (Y/n) asks, raising an eyebrow at her sister. "Who came to your rescue when SHIELD sent a team after you because you were doing hacker things."

"You were part of that team," Skye says.

"Yeah, but then, I taught you stuff," (Y/n) reasons.

"Fine," Skye grumbles.

"Yes! I win again!" (Y/n) says, nudging her sister. "Seven hundred, twenty-one to zero."

"Anyway," Natasha says with a laugh. She holds out her hand, "I didn't have a chance to introduce myself at the party. I'm Natasha."

"Hi," Skye shakes Natasha's hand. "(Y/n)'s told me a lot about you."

"She has, has she?" Natasha smirks and (Y/n) shifts uncomfortably.

Word Count: 4830 words

This was going to be one part, but we was reachin' like 10k words, and I wasn't about that, so it's probably going to be two parts.

Anyway, I love you guys!

Love,

Kaitlynn ❤️❤️

Taglist:

@marsromanoff

@ecruzsalaz

@procrastinatingsapphictrash

#Nat #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem reader #black widow x reader #of course you did #part one

192 notes · View notes

crispyjenkins · 4 years

Note

can you write jangobi - they have to team up together to save their dumbass kids??? and maybe their weapons get switched around so obi ends up shooting people with jango's westars and jango ends up stabbign people with the glowy murderstick???

(such a cute concept!! more mandalorian weapons flirting, more obi being a chronic ‘saber-dropper, more boba absolutely whooping anakin’s ass at hand to hand — obi really needs to step up the training there. i put this in the jar’kai canon divergence (first part here) because this prompt had interesting parallels. you get a whopping 2,000 words!! still not over lightsabers being called “glowy murder sticks” fandom peaked like five years ago and also I’M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG i was going to write this on friday and then fiori and i got into it about dha kar’ta and i’m ruined. anyways have some competence kink.)

"We really must stop meeting like this."

Jango growls and slams a new charge into his blaster, like it will prevent him having to turn around and acknowledge his newest headache. "I don't need your help, Kenobi," he grits, as he dodges a piece of the falling ceiling and ducks behind the barricade block Kenobi is crouching against, hands as loose as the smile on his face.

“Oh, no, I’m sure you have it well under control.”

An explosion rocks the warehouse, clouds of duracrete dust whipped into their faces by the evening wind; Jango is thankful for his helmet’s respirator, but Kenobi doesn’t even seem bothered. They’re in the middle of karking nowhere in the industrial district of the planetoid Odos, where no one in their right mind is outside after midday for the wind storms, and Kenobi’s appearance confirms Jango’s suspicions that this mess is jetiise related osik.

“Where’s that foundling of yours?” Jango demands, popping up over the barricade to take a shot at the scaffolding where a human bounty hunter had managed to get the drop on him.

Kenobi hums and closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the barricade like the building isn’t currently threatening to come down on them. “I imagine he’s about where yours is. I’m sorry to say that it seems Boba has been caught up in my padawan’s first mission as a knight.”

Dropping back down next to him, Jango has to resist putting his westar-34 to Kenobi’s head. “That seems to be going well.”

“Yes, well, you know Anakin,” Kenobi says easily, smiling wider as he opens his eyes. He raises a brow at Jango’s blaster aimed suspiciously in his direction, but there is no fear in his expression, and Jango wishes he had the time to show him just why there should be. And then out of left field Kenobi asks, “You have two of those, yes?”

And Jango doesn’t know what the kriff to say to that. Are jetiise even allowed to use blasters?

He glances down and notices that Kenobi doesn’t have his jetii’kad on his belt or in his hand, not a visible weapon on him, and suddenly the hiding behind a barricade makes a lot more sense.

“Where’s your ‘kad, jare jetii?”

Kenobi sniffs in offense, tugging Jango to the side to avoid a blaster bolt fired from above. “Well, that’s hardly fair, I did have it, before your friends upstairs blew up the wall.” Jango just growls and takes out the ‘friend upstairs’, watching with satisfaction as they drop three stories to land in a heap on the duracrete.

Kenobi looks impressed, stirring something warm in Jango’s chest, like his stupid heart wants to do anything to keep that expression on his face. So of course Jango burns the thought and tells his heart to shut the kriff up.

“Only until I get Boba back,” his mouth says without his permission, yanking his second westar out of its holster and holding it out to Kenobi grip-first. He’d be concerned about the jetii using mind tricks on him if he didn’t still have his beskar helmet, but he’s tempted to still shoot him anyways.

Every year under Jaster’s tutelage screams at him as Kenobi takes the blaster, oh Force he hadn’t even let Sheeka touch his westars—

“Only until we get Boba back,” Kenobi agrees, a strange pinch between his brows as he looks down at the blaster for a long moment. Then he switches off the safety and it’s like nothing had ever crossed his face as he smiles cockily sideways at Jango. “Well, shall we?”

Jango comes to learn that Jedi aren’t forbidden from using blasters, but he sees why they shouldn’t.

Kenobi cleans the scaffolding of four Odos weapons dealers in a single burst, ducking in a fluid motion to dodge the counter attack before popping back up, firing Jango’s westar exactly as it’s meant to be: in ferocious volleys that would melt other blasters. And the implication that Kenobi has had experience with multiple kinds of blasters makes his throat go dry.

Crouching back down, Kenobi clicks out the charge pack and slips a new one in, that Jango hadn’t even seen him take from his belt. And then the jare karking Jedi jumps over the barricade and sprints for the humans knocking their way into the warehouse.

Jango finally gets his head out of his ass and says kriff it, following Kenobi over the barricade and kicking his jetpack into flight, covering the crazy Jedi from above. Not that Kenobi seems to need it, easily alternating between the westar and hand to hand, moving almost too fast for Jango to be sure he doesn’t accidentally shoot him.

An absolute hulk of a Weequay manages to clock Kenobi in the face, sending him skidding back a few feet before Jango can put a blaster bolt through his head. Kenobi wipes his face on his sleeve, smearing blood on the white of his armour, and it’s as if every Mandalorian that’s ever marched away* is screaming “this one!” in Jango’s brain; he nearly flies into a column and decides it’s safer to be on the ground until he can somehow get the image of an angry, bloody Kenobi out of his head.

No sooner are his boots on duracrete that a human yells and throws himself at Jango, and they must be smuggling spice as well as weapons if they think trying to use their fists against full beskar’gam is a good idea. The human goes down in three hits, just in time for Jango to see the Weequay get another lucky blow, shooting Kenobi’s shoulder to make him drop the blaster.

Jango!” Kenobi shouts, dodging the Weequay’s fist, and oh, they’re on a first name basis now?

But Jango tosses him his blaster like sharing weapons on the battlefield isn’t frowned upon for being too intimate, and watches Obi-Wan fire from his left hand with the same ease as his right, before Jango has his own Weequay to worry about.

It’s only when both he and Obi-Wan manage to push their assailants back enough that they all spill out into the freighter depot that Jango realises he now only has his vibroblade and flame thrower, the latter of which he can’t use without having to worry about Obi-Wan.

“Wait,” Jango says, kicking a human in the chest and sending them flying. “Where’s that commander of yours.”

“Ah,” Obi-Wan winces, somehow having the presence of mind to both shoot and look guilty. “I should technically not be helping my former padawan on his mission.”

Another dumbass father, then. Jango snorts, using his jetpack to hop across the depot and stop a human from running away, sticking them through the throat with his vibroblade. “Then why the kriff are you here?” he taunts, and then immediately almost gets shot, because Obi-Wan laughs and shouts,

“Boba called me!”

Jango curses every Kyr’tsad commando and Jedi he can remember the name of, because it’s their fault his life has played out in a sequence of events that has somehow landed him here, noticing Obi-Wan’s ‘kad on the ground and picking it up. It’s a little charred and could use a wash, but doesn’t appear to be broken.

He doesn’t have time to decide if he plans on hurling it back to Obi-Wan before a vibroblade is shoved in his face, barely missing scratching his visor, and Jango doesn’t think as he flips the jetii’kad on, relieving the human of their entire arm.

Oh, he likes this weapon.

The beskad is not Jango’s favourite weapon by a long shot, he’ll take distance weapons over up close and personal any day, but he can’t deny the effectiveness in such situations where he’s stupidly given and/or thrown his blasters to a kriffing Jedi. Fair’s fair, he supposes he gets to use Obi-Wan’s weapon until they find Boba, equal exchange and all that.

He’s just thankful there aren’t any other Mando’ade around to witness it.

When the ground is littered with bodies and every muscle in Jango’s body screams for rest, Obi-Wan is staring at him.

He still has the westar, held loosely enough that the Odus winds buffet it to match the hair that Obi-Wan had cut since their last meeting. He watches Jango with a complicated expression from several yards away, dried blood on his upper lip and Jango’s blaster in his hand, and those taab'echaaj'la Mando’ade* are yelling at him again,

Jango powers down the ‘kad and breaks them from their reverie, Obi-Wan blinking back to himself and offering Jango an unsure smile.

“Is it safe now?”

Jango startles at Boba’s voice and quickly searches for the source, only letting out his breath when he finds his boy peeking down from the hatch of the fighter closest to them. Obi-Wan’s foundling pops his head out of the same hatch, and Jango shouldn’t even be surprised anymore.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin says cheerfully, swinging down from the fighter to trot over to his former master, his new knight hair looking rather unfortunate all stuck up with blaster smoke like that.

Boba follows easily, not looking even a little bothered by the day’s events and comes to stand next to Jango while Obi-Wan frowns at Anakin’s fresh black eye.

“And what’s this?” he questions, reaching up to Anakin’s face before the foundling shrugs him off.

“‘Ran into Boba. He didn’t recognise me.”

“He was wearing a mask!” Boba protests, making an aborted gesture to the bodies of the weapons dealers and scowling. “He needs to learn more hand to hand combat.”

Obi-Wan laughs at that, then seems to realise he’s still holding the westar and abruptly stops. He clears his throat and quickly brushes the dirt from the blaster with his robe, then spins it around to face Jango grip-first. As if he hadn’t just cleaned Jango’s blaster in front of both their younglings.

Boba looks between them quickly, lips parted in surprise, and Jango really doesn’t know what to tell him. So he does the only thing he can think of and wipes the soot off Obi-Wan’s ‘kad with his cloak, closing the space between them to hold it out to him pommel-first.

Obi-Wan blinks, looking from his ‘kad to Jango’s face, and, well, that certainly answers the question of him being aware of weapons courting. Jango takes his westar back and holsters it, still holding the ‘saber expectantly as Anakin stares insead at Obi-Wan’s limp right arm.

“Master, are you bleeding?”

Something icy lodges in Jango’s throat, but doesn’t get the chance to repeat the question as Obi-Wan looks down at himself and promptly tips forward into Jango’s chest with a muttered,

“Oh, goodness.”

Anakin yelps and leaps forward to help Jango catch him, and Jango really wishes just about any other Jedi had saved him from the Bando Gora, because they wouldn’t give him heart attacks.

Mando’a: jetiise — Jedi pl., sing. jetii jetii’kad — lightsaber, lit. “jedi saber” jare — someone taking a life-threatening risk, not a compliment; similar to kamikaze but not a direct comparison. beskar’gam — Armour made of beskar, “Mandalorian Iron” that was actually probably a steel alloy. Kyr’tsad — Death Watch, lit. “Death Society” beskad — traditional curved Mandalorian saber Mando’ade — Mandalorian, lit. “Child of Mandalore”

*based on the Mando’a word for the dead/deceased “taab'echaaj'la”, or “marched far away”, best explained in the Mando’a tribute to dead comrades, “not gone, merely marching far away”. the idea of Mandalorian ancestors gets sketchy when lineages aren’t like. a thing. but yeah, every Mando that’s walked the path is telling Jango to climb Obi like a tree.

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idjitlili · 3 years

Text

I can be the God of your Orgasm.

Loki x reader

(Not my image)

Summary:Some how ending up in Sakaar ,Valkyrie ends up taking you under her wing,no not her horse Aragorn,for a year ,until some Gods show up.

Word count:1768

Warnings:Language

A/n: Couldn’t end it , last time I touched this was October. Uhm, there’s a picture of Bowie, probably TMI here, but he was the first man , I ever you know over.Double aswell. I’m sorry.

You just a young woman in y/c ,heading to college your average routine ,but you never made it. Instead you had tripped over into a puddle ,but yet again you were decieved ,it was a portal. You hadn't/only left your country ,let alone been on another planet. You didn't think that was even possible;magic nor to be able to breathe on an different planet,well that was what you were told by the government. No you weren't a flat earther,thats bloody stupid. However you felt like the government hid a lot.

Michael Jacksons death,Heath Ledgers death,River Phoenix's death, Princess Diana's death , David Bowie, Obi-wan,it just seemed a little suspicous, not saying it was definitely them covering up the murders but...

Anyways so you fell into the puddle into a some rubbish ,literal rubbish. You had no idea what happened ,when Valkyrie found you she didn't either. God damn Benedict cumpatch stay in america with your fake american accent. Just stay away ,don't really want to be assassainated for being best buds with Sherlock Holmes and Dildo Gaggins.

Valkyrie had felt bad for such a young mortal being in an strange planet,she couldn't bare to bring you to Grandmaster ,to be apart of his orgies. he was indeed a tough warrior much like Dwalin the dwarf from the hobbit,who funfact is the longest living dwarf living up to 300 years,yes irrelvent.

Thus, you lived with her ,you managed to get a part time job as a cook,just so you didn't feel so bad about living with Valkyrie rent free. When I say part time cook ,I mean you just cooked for you and her,you didn't trust this planet. It was lucky when you fell in that puddle the stuff in your backpack didn't get wet,so you had some books to read,and such.

To be far being away from home stuck on an alien planet really did get boring ,you'd hate to admit it but sometimes you had to go to visit Hulk,because he was sorta normal. No he was not but he was okay ,like a destructive toddler but it was better than being alone. Other than that you really missed home ,you missed tv,you missed ice cream.

Pretty much everyday was boring. Well after almost a year of being here ,Valkyrie had brought a guest to your shared apartment thing. The God you had seen on the television a couple years ago. You had been sitting on the sofa reading at the time ,you jumped so hard when the door slammed open,you had looked up to see valkyrie shoving down a dark haired man in chains.

"Uhhh, are you allowed to kidnap people here?" you had questioned ,causing Valkyrie and the guy turn to you ,you had recognised him after a moment of trying to pin point his face. "I don't think that will hold him...h-he's-"

"Just stay away from him ,don't talk to him,don't look at him,hell don't even think about him,I will be back with Thor ,and then we can get you home, Y/n. So pack your things ." Soon as she had mentioned going home you had already started gathering your things,as Valkyrie had left after the God of Thunder. No you didn't go to the big battle compitions and Valkyrie certainly did not tell you she had found Thor ,but it didn't matter you were going home.

It didn't take you long to pack soon,you had your shoes on and everything sitting on the sofa ,twiddling your thumbs,feeling Loki's gaze on you. What's up with in love stories men staring , oh shut up you are just jealous because you can't even get a boyfriend ,stupid scribe.

"she said not to think about you...can you read minds?" you had questioned ,just really because that gaze he had on you made you feel proper ugly ,in which you were not. He had scoffed at you.

"I'm not a witch."

"I never said you were,you are a God ,must be better than having a hammer, it's like a normal hammer with steriods."

"Ah..so you have heard of me," He had smirked to himself ,you had just looked back at you hands before reaching for your bag grabbing your journal and ink,before just scribbing doodles on a clean page.Loki didn't speak after that not until you did again ten minutes later ,probably less time goes slow when the mood is a drag.

"the thing with new York, that was because of Thanos? People have controlled me by making me feel guilty so many times..OH manipulation ,you probably don't want to hear what I have to say,but I can't help it ,i've been stuck here a year the only person I got to speak to is drunk Valkyrie and hulk in which I feel like I am talking to a child. You know what I really wish I was watching Lord of the rings right-"

"You are from earth,how did you end up here?" He had grinned at you,cutting you off,isn't he like a mass murderer? Well he was tricked into doing it ,so more like accidental murderer ,why is he so handsome. Don't be stupid he is a God of course he is handsome.

"Uh..I fell into a puddle then I was here." The God had turned his head away to the floor ,scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion.

"I don't see how that's possible."

"Well it happene-" Yet you were cut off again,as the door slammed open,you quickly turned away back to your notebook,Thor ,Bruce and Valkyrie stood at the door.

You missed what happened first ,Loki having things thrown at him ,and such,you only looked up when he said something about spaceships,seeing Bruce. Your eyes glittered with excitement , Thor saw this. "Oh my! I can't believe it's-2 Thor had shook his head for you not say it. "Radiation scientist,Bruce Banner, damn,now I must say this is much more exciting than a hammer,which you don't have what's up with that? Hey Bruce how you feeling?Green? Darn, imagine being strongest Avenger!"

Thor had scoffed at you,"Does she always talk this much?"Bruce had made his way over to you smiling at you as you stood up. "It is so cool to meet you mister Banner."

"Thank you miss..." "Y/n" He had smiled at you again before turning to Thor ,"see strongest Avenger,yep that's me."

"well then ,let' hope we can get home,just first we are to go to Asgard."

***

"Valkyrie ,I'm going to stay with Dwayne Johnson,I have no fighting skills so it's better if come I after," you had gestured to Korg.

"Alright then, I'll see you if I don't die" And with that she left you with the aliens,smiling up to them.

"The revolution has begun."

***

"Hey, what's this?"

"Thank you." You had stood next to Korg as he had powered down the taser device on Loki's body,you had stood rocking on your balls of your feet in excitement to get home.

"Hey,man. We're about to jump on that ginormous spaceship. You wanna come?" Loki had jumped up,his hair a messy ,from the intense pain he had just suffered,from betraying his brother yet again.

"well you do seem like you're in desperate need of leadership." The smirk was interweaved into his voice, smooth as his greasy hair.

"Why, thank you."

"Hurry up! It has been too long since I've seen the dance seen in the james franco spiderman three!" You rushed forwards grabbing a hold of the mischief makers arm dragging him towards the ship. "Talkative and touchy," Loki just allowed you to drag him,with him supposively being evil,grinning.

***

"uhhh, what's the chances of as all dying horribly? Do you think if i pretend to be dead she wouldn't notice?" Loki was driving the space ship,whilst you sat in the seat next to him,all the alien people sat or stood behind. You really be riding shotgun on a spaceship,it was you or korg.

Loki did not answer you , yet just slightly smiled glancing to you briefly, not a good sign, you'd think with two Gods you'd be fine ,but clearly not. "Hey do you think if Thor had to fight I don't know- AHH" You weren't sure who you meant to say as you face planted into the spaceship's floor,as Loki's flying had stopped so suddenly causing a jolt. You had laughed to your lesson quietly,patheticly in honesty ,covering up how embarrassing that was.

You felt as if you were Mantis ,when Drax had informed her to watch out after she got hit in the face. All you could think was there's like a bunch of aliens on this ship and it's guaranteed at least 3 have just seen you face plant. "Okay , that makes me wish that I was on Thors spaceship right now." Your hair in your face, forearms pressed against the cold metal floor.

"What does he have that I don't?" His voice seeped with sarcasm, okay maybe not he was probably just annoyed that a midgardian was aboard and could not shut up.

"He probably can fly this thing better, well it's probably Bruce but that's even better , do you even know how many PHDs he has?"

"Honestly I do not know and do not care."

"Wow that's not very nice . He has..wait I dont -" The smirk on Loki's face was stamped deep, as he pulled you out of your concentration by doing so. "Shut up I bet you say to all your lovers, ‘If you givee a chance I can be the god of your orgasm’” Honestly you don’t know what made you think of that , something tells you it’s to do with a dude that reads a lot of smut named Blake. Actually the author doesn’t know if he does but..

“Thank you darling, for the new material.”

#marvel x you #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #loki odinson x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki imagines #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki odinson #loki of asgard #loki #loki fluff

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toothpastecanyon · 3 years

Text

Deceive, Distrust, Destroy - Chapter 1

Alcor has grown up with his sister time and time again. It's a chance to relax, to forget for a little while... a chance that can easily be weaponised.

Thank you so much to @feferipeixes for beta reading this!!

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“I need you to save my daughter.”

If there was anything consistent about Alcor, it was how consistently he made the stupidest choices in the multiverse.

That was what Oz’darthic Of Shadows thought, anyway. So many times had she watched Alcor wrap himself in the body of a human child and forgo his power… it made no sense! Where was the benefit? What was his plan? He didn’t even try to mess with the lives of those around him - it was a shameful display, really.

Shameful, that the most powerful demon in the world was so very weak. If only the tables were turned, if only she could wield the power of the Dreambender… well, those mortals down on Earth would finally get a taste of what demons were truly capable of.

If only.

But, barring that, she had been hatching up another plan, making deals, playing muse to a few arrogant humans. All the pieces were lining up, and just now, she’s waiting to see if this last one will fall into place - or if it will blow up so catastrophically she won’t take form again until the end of the universe.

It’s night, in front of a sleepy family house. All the lights are off, but the moon illuminates a man standing before the driveway… and the knife in his hand. His fists ball up as he passes through a flaw in the wards, unlocks the door, steps inside.

For a moment, nothing. Not a sound. Another moment, then-

A scream. Crying, yelling, footsteps rushing down the hallway. The lights flash on and something bangs against the walls, and then it’s all drowned out by him.

Even Oz’darthic flinches a little at Alcor’s terrible roar. To attack a Mizar so brazenly - she doesn’t envy the weaker demon she forced inside. She feels its soul be shredded into tortured mist, and waits with bated breath to see if she’ll be next.

Maybe he’ll think this is too suspicious. Maybe. She can feel how he pauses at how weak, how mindless this demon is - it should have sensed his mark on Mizar and left her be. Why didn’t it? And how did it possess someone? Why-

But then, to Oz’darthic’s eternal relief, a cry. It cuts through the Dreambender’s thoughts, and now he’s rushed over to tend to the helpless mortal… all according to plan.

She curls her lip at that. What a predictable thing Alcor was. No demon should be this easy to trick.

Shaking her head, she steps back into the Mindscape. That was the most important step. There’s still things left to do, portals left to finish, sacrifices yet to receive… but it’ll all fall in place in the coming few years. She’s not worried about any of that. Once Alcor shakes hands with those puny mortals, there’ll be nothing standing between them and a delicious little apocalypse of her own.

“No, can’t you see, she won’t make it to a hospital! It has to be me. I promise this isn’t a trick, she’s special to me… take my hand. Let me save her. Please.”

A flash of blue flames brings a smile to Oz’darthic’s face. It is done.

______________________________________________________________

“Maeve! What’s the ETA on that light?”

“I dunno, I just opened it up!”

“Is it just a burnt out bulb? I hope so. That’s a quick fix.”

“I said, I just opened it up.”

“Sorry.”

Maeve rolled her eyes as she opened the casing. The wires were all lit up with a flashlight’s beam… but then it shifted away. She glanced back, and saw her brother looking up at the sky.

“Sun’s going down fast,” he said, and flinched when she smacked his shin. “Huh?”

“We’ll be here all bloody night if you don’t hold the flashlight steady.”

“Oh, sorry! This good?”

“Yeah, keep it there.” She picked up her multimeter with her good hand and leaned in. Dipper watched her for a second, tried to keep the flashlight angled over her shoulder… but his eyes kept being drawn to the sky.

The end of the world had the most beautiful sunsets. The red skies cast deep shadows through the ruined houses, through the cracks in the decaying streets, through the rows of budding crops in the field before him. A little darkness fell on his foot, and he moved it away.

You could never be too careful.

“Stupid… fecking…”

“Maeve?”

“Yeah, hand me the bulb, Dipper.” She stuck her hand out. “You were right. They called us out here to change a bulb.”

“Why do you sound annoyed?” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a quick fix, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it’s so quick they could’ve done it themselves!” The lights flickered on, bathing the crops in stark white light, and she threw her hands up in the air. “There, done! Four years of engineering and I’m stuck doing this.”

“Aw, it’s not that bad.”

“Aren’t you the optimist,” she grumbled. She closed the casing, and the broken bulb slipped out of her hand. “Oh, you little… ughhh.”

She reached down, behind the light, into the shadows. A part of her brain sounded alarms at that; she hesitated, and then-

Something grabbed her hand.

Maeve swore and jumped back and the creature came with her; it was a hulking voidlike mass of spines, far larger than the patch of darkness it came from, snarling and digging its claws deeper into her wrist.

A jolt of fear ran down her spine, but it only served to steel her. Without hesitating she drew a warded knife from her belt and slashed the thing where it was gripping her - it let go with a terrible screech.

“Maeve!”

“Dipper!” She motioned at him. “Flashlight!”

He shone it right at the creature, and it shrank back with a hiss. They watched it slink back into the shadows, becoming formless as it left the light, disappearing into nothing.

Nothing, and everything. Maeve stared out into the night, into the endless darkness that surrounded their little field… and couldn’t help but shiver.

“Maeve!” A hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She felt a stinging in her hand, and looked down. “Huh? Yeah, I’m alright.” She flexed her wrist. “Nothing seems broken. We’ll patch me up back at camp.”

“Yeah, we really should be going.” He kept his hand on her as she fished her flashlight out of her bag. “Need me to carry anything?”

“I told you I was alright, didn’t I?” She shrugged him off. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”

The two of them started making their way back, sweeping their beams across the broken road they travelled down. Grass had grown through the cracks in the tarmac, and on each side sat cars rotting in front of dilapidated old houses. Darkness loomed in those mossy windows; Maeve resisted the urge to shine her light at them, get a proper look. It was too dangerous to be distracted.

Too dangerous to do much of anything, these days.

The street opened up before them into a parking lot. Before them was one, single lit building; lights streamed out of the windows of an old Sainsbury’s supermarket, and a couple flickering floodlights lit up a patch of farmland right in front. Dipper started walking a little faster when he caught sight of the lights; Maeve rolled her eyes and followed.

“We’re nearly home!”

“Yeah, we’re nearly at camp.” She rolled her eyes. “I told them that field’s too far away. If we ran out of soil we should’ve just broken up the tarmac more, but does anyone listen to me, noooo…”

“What was that?”

“Nevermind, just grumbling.”

“Heh,” Dipper rubbed his head. “You do that a lot, don’t you.”

They crossed the parking lot, turning off their flashlights as they reached the crops. Maeve ran her palm over the leaves as they passed; it felt cool on her skin, calming.

The doors slid open as they approached, and the light and the sound of chatter put a lump in her throat. Dipper stepped through without hesitation; she took a breath, and followed.

Ding.

“There you are!”

Before Maeve’s eyes could even adjust, arms came around her. Her vision went dark as she was pressed into someone’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Squeeze. “It was getting so dark - what took you so long? You said you’d be back before sunset!”

“Hi, Mum!” Dipper drew back, a smile stretched across his face. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to stay out late. We were heading home, but-”

“Oh my god!”

She seized Maeve’s hand - Maeve stiffened at that, stepped back and ripped her hand away.

“Wait, you’re bleeding!” Her mother made another grab for it. “Just let me help, baby, I-“

“It’s fine.”

“But-“

“I said, it’s fine.”

Her mother’s face crumpled at that, and there was a pause. Dipper glanced between them, and then cleared his throat.

“Well, the crops are looking good!” He rubbed his head. “Got a pretty good look at them while we were fixing the, uh, light.” Another pause. “Ugh, you know, my head kind of hurts-“

Their mother was on him in a flash. “Oh no, are you alright?”

“I’m alright, just, you know, magic-“

“Let’s get you resting.” Their mother led him away. “I’ll get you some water, does that sound good? Alright, we’ll do that…”

Maeve watched them go, and rolled her eyes. She cast one look around the camp, at the others milling about and eating dinner, and then made her way to the near corner of the store. Some makeshift rooms had been created by moving an aisle next to the wall and divvying it up with cardboard and blankets; the closest one was hers, and she slipped inside.

It was cramped and bright - still lit by the store’s lights from above - but it was private, and she breathed a sigh of relief at that. Her hand was really stinging, so she sat down on her mattress and started digging through a mountain of spare circuit parts and screwdrivers they’d taken from a hardware store to find - aha! First aid kit.

Maeve took out antiseptic and a roll of bandages, and stopped to inspect her hand in the better lighting. There was blood, but not too much; the creature seemed to have missed anything important. All there seemed to be was a couple of claw marks, and a long scratch over the scarred stumps of her fingers, ending just before it hit her thumb.

She gave a wry smile at that as she opened the antiseptic with her teeth. At least it got her bad hand. A little spray, a couple bandages, and it’ll be fine.

Once that was done, she sat back on her bed, gave a stretch, and then relaxed with a deep sigh. She stared up at the lights, and could hear people chattering outside her room; their voices had an echo to them in the store that made it hard to hear what they were saying… but Maeve kind of liked that.

She liked not being able to pick out what people were saying, because then she’d have to think about them. She liked hearing her mother’s voice without knowing what she was saying, because whatever it was would surely annoy her, definitely ruin this nice little moment of being left alone for once.

She didn’t get many chances in the apocalypse, so she cherished every one she got.

#transcendence au #dipper pines #apocalypse #mizar #toothwrites

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drlauralwalsh · 3 years

Text

You and Your Grieving Parts

Do you ever think about your...parts? No, not those parts, you mischievous little spark plug! I mean inside your mind - the parts that get weird ideas, warn against danger, are mean to you, and tell you to engage in late-night food rituals. That last part might just be me. Seriously though, I’ve been doing some research into the parts of my mind. The idea that our minds have “parts” is not a new idea. Like right now, a part of me wants to keep writing to you and another part just wants to nap. Oh the drama inside! There is one theory that explains this and it has intrigued me since grad school: Internal Family Systems.

INTERNAL FAMILY SYSTEMS (IFS) THEORY

The IFS theory believes that the mind is made up of a number of sub-personalities or parts, each with their own set of beliefs, opinions, and responses, and that interact with each other. At the core is the Self, which has the ability to lead the parts but isn’t always up to the task. No single part is bad but like an orchestra, the parts can be in harmony or honk cacophonously like a flock of agitated geese.

Along with the core Self, IFS sorts the other parts into categories by function: Managers, Firefighters, and Exiles. Managers and Firefighters protect you from feeling the pain of the Exile parts. They have the same goals but use different strategies. Managers constrict and hold you back while Firefighters automatically react and let it rip.

MANAGERS

Manager parts proactively run the day to day operations of the system and are considered the most “acceptable” parts because they say very adult things and sound most like the core Self. They maintain balance within you through control. Managers parts are perfectionist, judgmental, self critical or people pleasing. They want to prevent humiliation and abandonment by keeping you busy, criticizing what you do, worrying, sabotaging connections, and generally being a control freak. They strongly believe in self sufficiency and are generally relentless, exacting, chastising and sometimes, anxious and depressed. They’re really good at giving you a false sense of security by telling you it’s doing it so you’ll look good to others. A typical Manager thought is, “You really should stop bothering people with your sob story.”

FIREFIGHTERS

Firefighters are your first responders. They automatically fly out the door to rescue you when something hits too close to home. They extinguish the fire of pain by smothering or creating a diversion. They attack “enemies” and get defensive in an effort to control or suffocate emotions. These are the parts that have anger issues, spending too much money, drink too much or use drugs, get obsessive or suicidal, self harm, or dissociate. They like to eat too much. binge watch TV and endlessly play video games for hours. They don’t give a crap about the goody-goody manager parts. Those weenies don’t know what it’s like to charge heroically into danger. Firefighters are really good at distracting you from upsetting, painful or overwhelming feelings. A typical Firefighter part thinks it’s better to rage than to show vulnerability - even in the privacy of your own head.

EXILES

As a psychologist, I get to see other people’s Exile parts more than the average person. I’ve developed such a knack for it that the Managers and Firefighters appear almost transparent. When I’m interacting with someone who’s leading with one of those parts, I can see through to the Exile it’s protecting. Just wish I could more reliably turn that super power on myself! Exiles are the younger parts that hold pain from the past. You compartmentalize and isolate them from the rest of the system for their safety and stability in the system. Because of their vulnerability, they also seem kind of dangerous. They’re the parts of you that are scared of being abandoned, get intimidated, experienced trauma, and feel a lot of shame. This is where the Big Four live - not good enough, too much, if you really knew me, and everyone leaves.

Exiles are desperate to tell their story but Managers pessimistically believe your pain is a burden to others. Firefighters flat out refuse to put you in danger of being hurt again. If a sad, little kid part of you revealed a disgusting longing for an authority figure’s approval during a job interview, a Firefighter part might change the subject while a Manager sabotages the rest of the meeting. Neo-exiles are the parts we hide within close relationships. Imagine a romantic partner or friend that gives you attention when you’re doing something nice but ignores your bids for reassurance. You’ll shut down the needy part of you to maintain the relationship. The message from that person you tell yourself is that only your good parts are acceptable.

THE CORE SELF

So far, we’ve been describing the orchestra - or if you’d prefer, the various departments of your business or the governmental branches of your personal nation. Let’s switch to the head of it all - the conductor, the CEO, the President, YOU. In the center of all of this is your core Self. It’s a beautiful place to be. It doesn’t need work because it’s already perfect. It spontaneously emerges when the air is clear and all is safe. It is the natural essence of who you are and is sheltered from damage or destruction by function of your parts.

You know you’re in your grounded center when you feel authentically chill. Some theories describe the Self by the 8 C’s:

Confident

Courageous

Creative

Clarity

Compassion

Calm

Curious

Connected

I know I’m in that place when nothing said or done can move me off my square. For instance, I am confident about my intelligence. If some bozo tried to lecture me about how I’m really a dummy, I might get a little irritated but he’s not going to shake my confidence. Now if the same bozo flicked some booger comment about something more vulnerable, that might temporarily knock me off-center. Note: my own managers and firefighters have censored me from revealing said vulnerability for my own protection.

WORST CASE SCENARIO

Your personal configuration and manifestation of parts was constructed to deal with your worst case scenario to date. Since we have different histories and experiences, each set of parts is like a fingerprint of the individual. While I’m currently working hard to lead with my core Self, recent events (i.e. the death of my wife) have thrown the system into a reorg process. All previous worst case scenarios were blown out of the water and my mind’s company is frantically looking for new hires in two main departments. I thought I’d give you a peek into the frenetic remodeling of my inner Self as the parts run around with their pants on fire.

Exile: [Can’t speak and just cries endlessly into the void.]

Firefighter: “Oh shit! Their wedding song started playing overhead at the grocery store!”

Manager: “It’s fine. Everything is fine. Close your ears, stop being a baby and don’t think about it.”

Exile: “But I can’t stop thinking!” [Stops responding as snot clogs up nose.]

Firefighter: “Leave the store! Leave your groceries where you are!”

Exile: [Blows nose, hides in deserted health food aisle.]

Manager: “Someone could have seen you out there. Now go check out and remember to smile at the clerk.”

Firefighter: “I think it’s a great time to call it a day and watch more episodes of Designing Women.”

These parts are obviously clueless as to what to do with this newly emerged and devastatingly sad grief Exile. She’s a little girl part of me that either pitifully weeps or gets hulk-smash rageful. She isn’t a new part; she’s come out of semi-retirement to hold my overwhelming grief. She believes that everyone will leave her and she’s left on her own to figure everything out. She thinks things like, “Why don’t people notice how sad I am???” She doesn’t know a Firefighter distracts her from feeling with a stupid magic trick while a Manager runs around pulling the curtains around her so no one sees. All the parts are trying to help but the animals are loose at the circus. Though the Exile doesn’t know it, she’s waiting for my core Self to step in and corral the monkeys. My Self knows what to do if I can only find and access it. Stepping from the shadows, my centered Self brings a soothing presence that stops the commotion and quiets the protectors. Here’s an example:

Manager: “You should shower and do a little cleaning. This place is a mess!”

Firefighter: “Honestly, I think eating a little cookie butter will make things better.”

Exile: “[Sobbing] Things are never going to get better! I don’t want them to get better!”

Firefighter: “I know! Let’s listen to Rage Against the Machine really loud in the kitchen!”

Manager: “Fine, don’t shower even though you stink. Don’t change clothes either. It’s not like anyone sees you anyway.”

Firefighter: “Uhhh, isn’t that friend coming over tonight?”

Manager: “Oh yeah! He’ll certainly notice those dishes that have been in the sink for 3 days. Just sayin’...”

Exile: “Oh no! [Hangs head in shame] People will find out how horribly disgusting I am because I haven’t run the dishwasher or broken down and recycled the Amazon boxes.”

Firefighter: “Just throw everything in the backyard!!!”

Manager: “Stack up all the piles neatly so it looks like you wanted them there on purpose.”

SELF: “Alright, let’s think about this. What if you broke down the boxes right now, put them outside, rinse the dishes, and filled the dishwasher all while listening to Rage Against the Machine?”

Manager: “That’s not enough but okay, fine.”

Firefighter: “Great ideas as always. I’m going to rest up for the next emergency.”

Exile: “Thank you for listening to me. I feel a little better and I think we can do this.”

SELF: “Great. Afterwards, everyone can take a break and zone out in front of the TV. Now put on that music and let’s get to work.”

WHO’S IN CHARGE?

As long as there’s no one in charge, your mind is a confusing and chaotic miasma of competing needs. Ideally, the Self steps up and takes over negotiation between the parts and directs the next steps. However, sometimes a part fills in the leadership role. You know you’re leading with a Manager when you feel buttoned up, intellectually sharp and emotionally numbed out. Leading with a Firefighter part feels like a continual state of irritability and agitation and keeps you ‘at the ready’ to react to danger. Exiles are rarely in charge because they’re really bad at it. They collapse the system and insist on activities like staying in bed all day.

WORKING WITH YOUR SYSTEM

As with most life problems, the first step is awareness. You’ve got to get to know your parts - their personalities, beliefs, and functions - before trying to intervene in their conflicts. Like I said before, there are no bad parts - just competing beliefs and strategies. A given part feels strongly that it’s right, sees it how it really is and knows the truth. Every thought or feeling originating from a part is trying to help you out, even if it doesn’t seem that way. The part of me that says no one wants to be around me is actually trying to protect me from rejection and abandonment. Unchallenged, that part will keep me from connecting to supportive people.

OBSERVING AND IDENTIFYING PARTS

It may be difficult to put your finger on and capture a particular part. When you’re ready, there’s a few ways to access them. Start by being curious and non-judgmental. Think of your centered self as just a researcher interested in data collection. Reassure yourself that nothing has to change as you’re presently in observation mode.

Take your emotional temperature by asking yourself how you feel right now. Ask to see what emotions are already present and how or where your body feels with that emotion. Observe those messages that are on repeat in your mind. Alternatively, you can access an upsetting memory from the past and examine it. Ask yourself, what exactly was upsetting about what happened? Did you feel afraid, sad, anxious, angry or something else? How did you react and what did you do? Did you rage, freeze, numb, avoid, or try to smooth it over? These questions will reveal clues to what was exiled and what managers and/or firefighters protected you. If at any time your brain says, “I don’t know,” consider that another protector part and explore accordingly.

STAYING CENTERED

Once you’ve got a handful of observations, pick out one voice and interview it. More than likely, you’ll be talking to a protector - probably a manager. Getting it talking by asking what it believes and it’s job in the system. Ask how old it is and what it looks like. A voice that says. “This isn’t fair,” may believe you get dumped on more than most and thinks the job is to protest on your behalf. It may show up as a finger wagging old man who suggests that something must be wrong with you because this keeps happening. What’s protective about this voice? What kind of Exile is it defending? Be gentle with digging down to the Exiled little kid part underneath. Kids are delicate and need protecting. If you find yourself continuing to have strong emotions or becoming reactive, you’ve likely run into another manager or firefighter. Interview and explore this part before moving deeper. We can’t access, validate and utilize the burdened exiles without honoring how the system set itself up to protect us.

Once you’re working with a particular part, another angle is to check back in with your calm and centered Self. What do you understand about the part? What do you think is going on? Can you find empathy and appreciation for the part? Even our nastiest parts work really hard on our behalf. A critical voice is mean but its heart is in the right place. An obsessive or addictive part is trying to soothe the system in the best and only ways it knows so far.

TRUSTING RELATIONSHIPS

Getting to know your parts is the process of creating trusting relationships between them and the Self. This is the next step in the process of converting your protectors and split-off exiles into your allies. Think about how trust is built with other people: consistent interactions, listening to and honoring what’s said, believing their words are important - even when you don’t understand. That’s exactly how we build rapport with the different parts of ourselves. It may be scary or unpleasant to get close to your inner critic or the tightly-wound explosive rage but it’s a vital step. Like a good CEO or President, once your core Self begins to get everyone on board, it’s easier to know what to do when life throws you the next curveball.

I’ve got a story for you from back when my wife was still alive. I left to go grocery shopping but stopped in at the craft store to shop for just myself. This nagging little voice kept popping up but I successfully shoved it back down at the craft store. Entering the grocery store a short time later, I could no longer ignore a little girl voice on repeat: “She’s going to be mad at you!” Sighing, I got centered and engaged it. Here’s how the conversation went:

Little Girl: “She’s going to be mad at you!”

SELF: “Okay, well, we can handle that. Why will she be mad at me?”

Little Girl: “Because you took too much time at the craft store.”

SELF: “Why is that a big deal to you? What are you feeling?”

Little Girl: “I’m worried she’ll be mad and call you selfish because you took time for yourself.”

SELF: “Okay, well if that happens, I’ll take care of it. You don’t have to explain it to her. I don’t think she’ll actually be mad but if she is, I’ll be in charge. How does that sound?”

Little Girl: “I’m still worried but I’ll try it your way.”

SELF: “Great. Thank you for trusting me. No matter what, it will be okay.”

This is the actual transcription of me engaging with a worried part. For the record, it’s not grounded in current reality. Naturally, Patty would be concerned if I hadn’t returned from shopping if it had been a few hours but she wouldn’t be mad. I already had a relationship with this part - the Little Girl. She’s about 5 or 6 and feels too small and powerless to change things in the world. She’s used to being dismissed and pulls at my sleeve to warn me about all the monsters lurking in the shadows. She’s protected by another part - my rebellious teenager. If I’m not gentle with the Little Girl, the Rebel leaps to her defense and commandeer the entire system. The Rebel says things like, “Oh no, you fucking didn’t just do that! I’ll show you!” and promptly turns off all inhibition and motivation and steers us back to the craft store to buy $100 worth of crap. I’ve learned my lesson - listen to and trust the Little Girl, or else it’ll cost me.

YOUR PARTS IN GRIEF

I’m still getting to know and lead the parts of me as they grieve. As with outside life, my internal life was thrown into disarray after Patty died. I had all the parts nicely organized, productive, and had good working relationships with all. Death took my puny little shoebox diorama on the inside of my mind and… shook it up really hard. I was so proud of my hand painted little figurines, all precisely glued in their rightful places. A manager most assuredly came up with that idea. Now, there’s a part of me that just wants to toss the whole thing and another part that’s picking up each piece, crying over its brokenness.

All I can do is be patient with myself for now as I sort through the pieces in the shoebox. I tried throwing it out but it just reappeared. I’m working on getting the lay of the land. I’m doing my best to accept and soothe the broken parts - even as they overreact, judge me for not keeping things cleaner, numb out with cookie butter, and cry at the grocery store. We are trudging down the road right now but when I get to know everyone again, I’ll call a meeting and figure out what’s next.

#grief #parts #Internal Family Systems #mind

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starryknight09 · 3 years

Text

Unforeseen dangers ch. 8

Summary: As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Read on AO3.

________________________________________________________

“And the end result is H2O2.” Mr. Eldridge said as he finished writing the chemical reaction on the chalkboard. He was the only teacher that still insisted on using a tool from ancient times instead of switching to the less messy whiteboard. “Any questions?”

Betty raised her hand and Peter and Ned shared a knowing look. She always had a question.

“Yes Betty?” Mr. Eldridge asked. Even the teacher couldn’t keep the slight exasperation out of his voice.

“So, when we’re balancing the equation—”

“Peter Parker report to the office please. Peter Parker to the office.” The overhead speaker interrupted.

“Dude, what’d you do?” Ned whispered.

Peter frowned. “Nothing. I don’t think?”

“Peter.” Mr. Eldridge prompted. “It appears you’re needed in the office.”

“Um, yes sir.” He mumbled and hurriedly grabbed his things, trying to ignore the buzz of the class around him as they whispered about him.

“Way to go Penis.” Flash hissed as he walked by.

Peter glared back. Apparently Happy’s threat at the beginning of the year was starting to wear off.

“All right everyone settle down. Settle down.” Mr. Eldridge said. “Now Betty, what was your question?”

The door closed behind Peter before he could hear whatever she’d been about to ask. That was one small blessing at least. He loved chemistry, but the class bored him to death since he’d known how to balance equations since early middle school. He tried not to complain too much, though, because at least it was an easy A.

Instead of walking straight to the office, he stopped by his locker and grabbed his backpack, stashing all his homework and books into it, before shouldering it and slamming his locker door shut. Chemistry was his last class of the day this semester and he had no plans to return for any more brain numbing torture after he was done with whatever this thing was.

He still had absolutely no idea why he was being called down to the office. Without meaning to, his mind drifted to the last time this had happened, when he’d been tricked by Ross’s man into leaving with him and getting kidnapped. That definitely wasn’t happening again. He didn’t care if the president himself showed up and said he wanted to take him out of school. He was never leaving with someone he didn’t absolutely trust again.

It only took him a couple minutes to finish walking the short distance to the office. Once he was outside the door, he pushed it open without hesitation, but the sight that greeted him made him stop up short in the doorway.

Tony stood there, dressed in a white AC/DC t-shirt and black pants along with a suit jacket and red tinted sunglasses. His dad’s appearance at his school would be surprising enough, since only Morita knew of their relationship, but he wasn’t alone. Steve stood next him in khakis and a polo, looking grave, along with a nervous appearing Bruce in his usual jeans and purple button up ensemble.

“Oh good, Peter you’re here.” The secretary said as soon as she noticed him. “I was just about to call for you again.” She gave him a smile before addressing Tony, “He’s been all signed out, so he’s free to go.”

Tony gave her a nod.

“Uh…what-what’s going on? Is this something to do with the uh internship, um, Mr. Stark?” Peter stammered, catching himself from sounding too familiar at the last minute. He surreptitiously glanced at the receptionist, hoping she hadn’t noticed, but it didn’t seem like it. She was still staring at him with a weird, almost knowing, smile.

As his gaze swept back toward Tony, Peter noticed Principal Morita was there as well, standing in the doorway to his office with his arms crossed. Peter couldn’t read his face, but he didn’t seem too shocked to have three Avengers in his school. But then again, he had met Tony before.

“You don’t need to do that, kid. The cat’s out of the bag.” Tony said and stepped forward to squeeze his shoulder.

“What? What cat?” Peter looked past his dad to Bruce and Steve for any clue as to what his dad was talking about and how he was supposed to play this, but they both remained silent.

“You haven’t been on the internet recently? Or Tweeter? Or whatever it is your generation does these days?”

“It’s Twitter.” Peter automatically correctly. “And no. Mr. Eldridge has a really strict no phones policy in his classroom.”

Tony nodded and took a breath as if to bolster himself for what he was about to say.

“Why? What happened?” Peter asked, suddenly envisioning worst case scenarios. “Did someone get hurt? Oh god, did someone—”

“No no. Nothing like that.” Tony interrupted as he shook his head.

“Ok… Then what-why are you here?” Peter frowned.

“Listen.” Tony took his sunglasses off with a sigh and looked him in the eyes. “There’s no easy way to say this, but someone, somehow, and believe me I’m going to find out who, leaked your identity to the press. The news broke half an hour ago.”

He froze and his eyes widened. The first thought that crossed his mind was that his dad was talking about his superhero identity, but after a second he realized that wasn’t it. His dad was talking about his civilian identity. His identity as Tony Stark’s son, which meant…the whole world knew who Peter Parker was now.

“Oh.” He didn’t even know what else to say. His thoughts raced but all he could do was blink up at his dad.

Luckily, Tony seemed to understand his mental state. “Sorry buddy. I know this is less than ideal.”

“I just thought we’d have more time.” He said softly.

“Me too.” Tony nodded and let out a heavy sigh. “But we don’t. So, what we have to do now is get you out of here and then we’ll go from there. All right?”

Peter nodded.

“Ok. First, put these on.” Tony handed him his red tinted sunglasses.

He took them with a frown. “Why?”

“Because.” His dad said. “Trust me, they’ll help.”

Peter slid them on, confused.

“Ready?” Tony asked.

Peter nodded and heard Steve answer, “Ready.”

He looked over and watched as Bruce gave his dad a nod too.

Oh. Peter realized Tony hadn’t been talking only to him, but to Steve and Bruce as well.

“Ok, let’s go.” Tony said and headed for the door. Peter followed, Steve and Bruce right behind him.

“Thanks Jim.” Tony called out over his shoulder as he pulled on the door handle.

“No problem Mr. Stark. Good luck.” Principal Morita replied.

“I’m sure we’ll be in touch.” Tony said and stepped out. As soon as they were in the hallway, he wrapped an arm around Peter’s shoulders. Peter could feel the pent up tension in his body. “I can’t believe this place doesn’t have a back exit.” His dad mumbled under his breath as he led them down the hallway toward the front doors.

Peter frowned.

When they got about fifteen feet from the doors, his dad stopped and peeled off his suit jacket while Steve took a few steps in front of them and Bruce stayed behind. Before Peter could ask what was going on, Tony draped his jacket over Peter’s head and shoulders, so Peter could still see out, but barely.

“Keep your head down until we get to the car.” Tony ordered.

“What? Wait. Why? What’s going on?” Peter finally asked, pulling the jacket off his head. None of this was making any sense to him.

Tony blinked and seemed to check himself with a small shake of his head. “I’m sorry kid. I figured you knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Everyone knows who you are now.” Tony said slowly as if Peter might not have understood it the first time.

“Yeah I know. You said that.” Peter mumbled, still not quite getting it.

“Think about it. They know who you are, so how hard do you think it was for them to figure out where you go to school?” Tony explained slowly.

Peter’s eyes widened as he finally realized what his dad was trying to tell him.

“It looks like the red carpet out there.” Tony added with a wince.

“Oh.” That was a lot to process.

“Yeah.” Tony said with an aggrieved sigh. “You’re a Stark now, kid. Sorry.”

Peter didn’t know what to say to that. He glanced back toward the doors and now he could see faint flashes of light through the frosted windows, probably cameras. He suddenly felt kind of sick.

Tony gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eye. “I’m going to get you through this, ok? Just stay close to me. It’ll all be ok.”

Peter swallowed, his mouth dry. Right now it sure didn’t seem like it’d be ok.

“You ready?” His dad asked.

He nodded and tried to take a deep calming breath. He could do this. Spiderman did way harder things than this every day. It was just a stupid little crowd.

“Ok.” Tony said and made eye contact with Steve and Bruce. Peter realized then the reason they were here. For his protection. Besides Wanda and Vision, who’d gone off to Europe sometime after New Year’s, the Hulk and Captain America were two of the strongest Avengers.

Tony readjusted the suit jacket so it was over his head again and shielding his face as well as it could. Once his dad was satisfied with its position, he slung an arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulled him tight to his side like he was trying to protect him.

“It’s going to be loud, but just remember, keep your head down until we get to the car. Ok?”

“Ok.” He whispered in response.

“Let’s go.” Tony said and they started walking, quickly closing the remaining distance to the doors. Peter could hear the cacophony of noise behind them now that he was listening for it. His dad was right. It was going to be loud.

They stopped at the doors and Steve touched his ear. “Sam? Clint? Rhodes? We all clear?”

Wow. Apparently more Avengers than just Bruce and Steve had come to get him.

“We’re clear.” Steve told Tony after a few seconds.

“Ok. Time to go. Straight to the car.” Tony said and Peter’s heart fluttered in trepidation.

“We’re coming out.” Steve said, pressing at the comm in his ear again.

Then he opened the door and they stepped out into absolute chaos.

Even with the sunglasses on and his face partially covered by his dad’s suit jacket, he was still blinded by all the camera flashes. And everyone was screaming. Questions. Accusations. It was like an all out assault upon his senses. His head spun with it, along with the realization that this was all for him. They were here to take his picture, not his dad’s or the Avengers. His breath caught in his throat and it took all his concentration to keep putting one foot in front of the other as his dad led him straight towards the car.

“Step aside. Let us through.” Steve said as they passed through the mob.

The distance to the car was only about thirty feet, but it felt like it took an eternity to cross it. Luckily, the crowd parted for them, but even so, Peter still got jostled.

“No comment.” Tony kept saying over and over again in his cold media voice as everyone yelled questions and screamed for his attention. His dad clutched him tighter, obviously trying to shield him from it all.

Out of the corner of his eye Peter could see the hordes of news hounds lined up, hoping to get a piece of him. A good picture of him right now would probably be worth a pretty penny. No doubt that was the reason Tony had tried to keep him as covered up and as hidden as possible. The thought made his gut churn. This was worse than anything he’d imagined when he’d thought about what it’d be like to be outed as Tony’s son. Was getting in and out of school going to be like this everyday?

Finally, they made it to the car. He heard Steve open the door and Tony ushered him in, Steve and Bruce following right behind. The door slammed shut with a definitive thud, and the commotion quieted slightly, but Peter could still hear it. Tony was quick to yank the jacket off his head, but he kept his arm wrapped around him.

“You good?” His dad asked, trying to peer down at him, but Peter was still pressed too tightly against his chest for him to really see.

He nodded. But it was a lie. He wasn’t good. He was so far from good it wasn’t even funny.

The car started moving, but at a glacial pace, with the horn honking every other second.

“Get out of the way asshole!” Happy yelled from the front and the horn blared again, a long three second squeal. Peter winced and glanced up. Happy was driving and Natasha sat in the passenger seat, twisted around to look back at them. When she caught him looking at her, she gave him a reassuring smile.

“Hey squirt, you ok?” She asked.

He just blinked at her.

“Peter?” His dad asked him with a nudge, trying to get him to sit up straighter so he could see his face.

“This is crazy.” He blurted out without thinking.

“Yeah it is.” His dad agreed and this time when he nudged him, Peter pulled away and sat up. “But you’re all right now. They can’t see through these windows.”

They were in his dad’s bulletproof Bentley with the deeply tinted windows. Outside there were people and more people as far as the eye could see. Peter recognized all the media crews with their official logos and huge cameras, but there were a lot of what looked like average people out there as well, holding up their phones in the hope of snapping a quick photo of him. The idea of some random stranger trying to take his picture seemed insane. He hadn’t done anything special, that they knew about anyway. He was just Peter. What was wrong with these people? How did his dad live like this?

Peter turned entreating eyes on him and asked, barely above a whisper, “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know yet buddy, but I promise we’ll figure it out, ok?” Tony gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

He chewed on his lip and nodded. He wished he could pretend that his dad would be able to fix this like he fixed everything, and that everything would all go back to normal soon, but he knew that was a fantasy.

“Nothing’s ever going to be the same again, is it?” He asked. He already knew the answer, but he needed to hear it spoken out loud.

“No.” His dad said, his regret evident. “It’s not.”

Peter sighed and let his head fall back against the seat. As he closed his eyes, he tried to ignore the fact that his entire life had just irrevocably changed in the span of a single afternoon.

#unforeseen dangers #ch 8

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stjernfaerie · 4 years

Text

I finally watched all of MCU

in release order because IT MAKES SENSE!!!!

special thanks to @littlegingrnut who watched ALL OF THEM with me. She’s the best.

Idk if anyone cares at all, but I feel like sharing, so here’s some thoughts and reactions, enjoy:

Phase 1:

Iron man

okay but like how was Tony such a jerk in the beginning only to become like the most lovable character ever??

YINSEN DID NOT NEED TO DIE :((

did not like the antagonist what was that

I mean he’s not bad I just didn’t like him that much

I wanna get myself a jarvis tho

all in all, really enjoyed it

got me really excited to watch more

The Incredible Hulk

didn't watch cuz aly said not necessary

we just skimmed over the important parts

oh and watched the end credits scene

Iron man 2

this was really great

okay but like I love Ivan Vanko hes such a great antagonist

I LOVE TONY

HE’S SO GREAT

THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT AND EVERYTHING GOSH AAH

oh damn ~Natasha Romanoff~

ma’am-

Pepper as a powerful business lady? YES

just... really great shit right here

Thor

Mmmmmm I don't see the hype about Loki??

his two faced-ness is annoying me

also Thor? I didn't love him at first,, he's a bit cliché

STELLAN SKARSGÅRD YES SWEDISH REP

okay but Thor is a good boi actually,,, I take it back he’s pretty great

Oh nooo Loki - yeah lol as if he actually died

YO WHAT WAS UP WITH THAT END CREDITS SCENE that got me all like WTF and shit

also told ya Loki didn’t die

Captain America: The First Avenger

okay full disclosure, I actually watched this one time before bc I started watching them in chronological order but never got any further than this

it made so much more sense this time

I liked it so much better this time

because THE RELEASE ORDER MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

anyway

this was good !!

I'm gay for Peggy omg

and Steve is such a good boi

DID BUCKY REALLY HAVE TO DIE

all in all not my favourite tho, not too memorable tbh

"I had a date" 😭

The Avengers

ohhh man

ALL OF THEM TOGETHER? UGH YES

Oh hello Dr. Banner nice to see u

Loki bro pls chill

OKAY HULK HELLO

NATASHANATASHANATASHA AAAHH I'M GAY

still don't get the Loki hype tbh. maybe a lil bit but idk

THOR OKAY I LOVE THOR NOW

TONY WHAT THE FUCK NO NO NO TONY DON'T

oh okay he's good

I love them all so much oh gosh

I MADE IT THROUGH PHASE ONE WOHOOOO

***

Phase 2

Iron man 3

this movie changed me

aly can confirm - I was very much not okay after seeing this

literally had anxiety through all of it

I mean I LOVED it

but like

the ptsd :(((

although I do love that they showed that, just made me love Tony even more

just... showing the ugly parts - love that shit

but also like noooo tony bby :((((

HARLEY!!!! IS SO GREAT !!! AND ALY SAID HE COMES BACK AT ONE POINT!! YAY

just.... Tony Stark man.

great antagonist, love the whole mandarin thing

EXTREMIS? NO THANK U that honestly gives me like zombie ish vibes or smth I don’t like it

but like it was great

OH PEPPER JUST BECAME 10x HOTTER DAMN SHE JUST GETS MORE AND MORE ATTRACTIVE EACH MOVIE HUH

PEPPER ALMOST DYING? NOPE

THE PAIN IN TONY'S FACE? NOPE

all in all loved this so much and I am still not really okay

Thor: The Dark World

I see why people think this is the worst Thor movie.

DON’T GET ME WRONG IT WAS GREAT

but like,,, meh? the big end fight was so anti-climactic? not epic at all like what the fuck

I LOVE DARCY

but she's clearly gay so stop makin her fool around with the intern

but like Thor is such a soft boi and I love him

again, Loki's two-faced-ness – aRH

but,,,, I get the Loki hype now

I'm aboard the train

I love Loki

oh oh oh the part in his prison cell when Thor comes to talk to him and is all like "enough tricks" and then his cell is all torn up and he's all torn up and AH BABY 😭

Thor just needs cuddles

Aaaaand this is where I accidentally got the worst possible spoiler. :)))

I wanted to watch some wholesome Tony Stark content before bed and so I searched youtube for "Iron Man" and clicked on a video I thought looked nice and wholesome. I accidentally read the top comment and then proceeded to break down and freak out to Aly and Hanna on Aly’s live, and they comforted me and stuff <3

Aly then told me that “hey remember that I told you that the little boy in Iron Man 3 comes back at one point? Yeah that’s at the funeral”

STUPIDLY, I then watched the death scene on YouTube, went to bed crying, and of course, dreaming about it. I will never be okay again and I will never be ready for Endgame thank you and goodbye.

anywAY,,,,,

Captain America: Winter Soldier

*SO MUCH SCREAMING*

I thought that Bucky didn’t deserve to die - and he didn’t - but like,,, DYING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN THIS

the ~bromance~

nat and steve I mean, so good

I AM NOT OKAY I WAS NOT PREPARED FOR THIS MOVIE BUT IT WAS AMAZING

Natasha tho mmmmmhhf

I was rly confused while watching but like everything came together at the end and it was so nice and damn this is one of my favorites so far

Sam is great I want more of Sam

Guardians of the Galaxy

multiple people had told me that they thought I’d really like this movie

honestly? I didn’t

it was kinda meh?

like I found it very predictable and cliché and not in a delightful way

idk if it’s just that I know that Chris Pratt is a dick but I don’t like Peter

I rly like Gamora and Nebula, but like I’m a lesbian, so I don’t think anyone’s surprised that I like the traumatized warrior gals

but like in general I’m kinda disappointed

I only gasped like twice, and it was barely gasp-worthy moments

Avengers: Age of Ultron

All of them together just makes me so happy, they’re so cute with each other AH

loved Ultron as the antagonist. that was great.

but,,,, I was a bit disappointed that we didn’t really get to see any regret from Tony bc he created Ultron

THE TWINS ARE FANTASTIC

whatever’s going on with Bruce and Nat, I don’t like it

TOO MANY moments that reminded me of the spoiler that I refuse to speak. Did not enjoy

everyone just needs to be hugged why doesn’t anybody HUG THEM????

not happy about Jarvis dying :((( even tho he technically didn’t die but like HE’S NOT JARVIS ANYMORE IS HE

and then Tony just replaces him with this Friday just like that??? no i’m not okay with that

in a ranking scenario this one falls in like the top of the middle range? Like it’s not one of the favorites, but it’s still up there.

I FUCKING DID IT AGAIN ARGH

I was just reading about new MCU projects that are coming up and THERE WAS A SPOILER WARNING, but STUPID AS I AM I DISREGARDED that and kept on reading. I was just skimming through the text and I read “Loki who dies” and stopped right there, because AAHH FUCKING SHIT

I was on a call with Aly as this happened and so I told her that I had given myself a spoiler again and that it was about Loki, and she was all like I can’t remember anything that happens to Loki hmm, and so I thought YAY it’s okay, they just meant one of the times when he fake died!!! so I went on to keep reading, but before I could read anything else Aly stopped me, remembering. She told me it would be gut-wrenching and terrible and I’m just-

So disappointed in myself.

Ant-Man

it was an enjoyable movie, but like,,, a little meh?

I feel kinda the same as I did with GOTG

but I like each of them better than the other for different reasons? idk???

the plot wasn’t very thick, like I could have gone away to pee without pausing and probably not miss too much

I didn’t really get invested in the story or the characters

but it was enjoyable for sure

Sam!!! Hello!!!!

Again, like with GOTG, I found it kinda cliché, but in a more delightful way this time

WE MADE IT THROUGH PHASE 2 AND PASSED THE HALF-WAY POINT WOHOOOOO

***

Phase 3

Captain America: Civil War

I constantly needed to be hugged while watching this

in the end I was fine, like I’ve been way less okay after some of the other movies, but during? needed hugs and cuddles

I love that they were fighting each other it was just... umff you know

but also like,,, LOVE EACH OTHER

Wanda and Vision? no thanks I HATE IT

Steve and Sharon?? NO THANKS I HATE IT

literally that’s just weird on SO many levels

and that kiss was-- ugh I hated it.

SPIDER BOY !!!!! UGH I LOVE HIM ALREADY

Black Panther heLLOOO

ALL THE STUCKY THOOO

Tony and Steve fighting in the end got me :(

Doctor Strange

This one falls at the bottom of my list

It was the shortest movie but it felt SO LONG because I was so bored through all of it

it just never got me hooked, I didn’t get invested in the story at all.

there weren’t even any characters that I liked enough to want to see more

sure another infinity stone and getting to know doctor strange and shit, I get why you kinda need to watch it

but I doubt I’ll watch it again

Guardians of the Galaxy 2

just like with the first one, kinda meh

I didn’t really get into it until the last half hour or so

the music really carried this movie tho

and baby groot !!!

I love Nebula so much, such a great character

Yondu dying was really great, it did a lot for his character

I still don’t really like Peter Quill

I feel like it was barely contributing to the infinity saga, the only thing that’s somewhat connected is that Nebula wants to kill Thanos, and the only reason I know that’s connected is because of spoilers

because I’m not really supposed to know the significance of Thanos at this point

but then again, maybe I’ll feel differently when I’ve finished all the movies

Spiderman: Homecoming

SPIDEY BOY !!!!!!!!!

THIS IS A FAVORITE

I CANNOT EVEN BEGIN TO EXPRESS HOW MUCH I LOVED THIS MOVIE

THE TONY/PETER INTERACTIONS WERE SO GREAT

PETER IS A BABY AND HE’S SO GREAT AND AAAAAHH

HE’S ON MY LIST BTW

AND LIKE,,, CAN WE TALK ABOUT HIS FIGHTING SOUNDS COMPARED TO EVERYONE ELSE’S???? Like steve and thor and shit are all like huOH heeeUH oAH ya know?? and then peter’s over here like eeh heh mmmMHF

HE’S JUST REALLY GREAT AND AAH I LOVED THIS MOVIE SO MUCH

LITERALLY SMILED THROUGH ALMOST ALL OF IT

except when things were going bad and during the fight scenes and shit and when he was in big danger and stuffs

BUT LIKE AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

SO GOOD

OH OH OH AND STEVE’S LITTLE EDUCATIONAL VIDEOS WERE SO CUTE AH

hehehheheh and the end credits tho heheheheh

ANYWAY I LOVED THIS MOVIE SO SO SO SOO MUCH

Thor: Ragnarok

ANOTHER FAVORITE AAAAH

ALL THE BROTHERLY MOMENTS THO

Kinda mad that we didn’t get a hug there in the end but oh well

Thor is so sassy and goofy in this one I love it

ugghhhhh I love Loki so much

Hela has so much Maleficent vibes

Heimdall yESSS !!!

all the Thor/Hulk interactions were so PRECIOUS AAH

this was just such a great movie with great character development for both Thor and Loki and ughhhh IT WAS SO GOOD

“get help” was fucking ICONIC

VALKYRIE THO

oof not excited for infinity war :((

Black Panther

this one falls somewhere in the middle for me

like it was good, but it’s not up there

my main issue with it is that it didn’t really feel so much like a superhero movie, it was more just like... family drama

but Shuri tho, love her

and all the awesome ladies fighting!!! yes!!!!

BUCKY!!!

Avengers: Infinity War

I am not okay

I will never be okay again

I thought Loki dying was gonna be the worst part - and honestly, knowing about it beforehand made it less painful actually

but NO NO NO

THE LAST 15 MINUTES IS JUST A CRYFEST HUH

REAL NICE THANK YOU

oh gosh I can’t even think

I told y’all I didn’t like Peter Quill and well, HE DESERVED WHAT HE GOT

oh gosh nope

I’ve been feeling guilty that all of y’all had to wait a full year for endgame but AT LEAST THEN YOU HAD TIME TO BE OKAY AGAIN BEFORE ENDGAME

fucking shit what have I gotten myself into

Ant-Man and the Wasp

I liked this one better than the first ant-man

It’s still not up there but it was good

idk it could just be bc I know the characters more this time or because I kind of had pretty low expectations but I liked this more

oh also maybe I was just happy that I didn’t have to see like all my favorite characters die like I did yesterday :(((

still not okay

anyway, ant-man and the wasp

I really liked Ava, really great character honestly

I liked Hope a whole lot more this time around

still don’t really like her and Scott together, especially after her mother like talked through him and shit. I feel like if I was Hope and my mother talked to me through my love interest, I would feel pretty weird about it all

but maybe that’s just me idk

oh but what I do like about scott and hope is all of hank’s comments about them

he’s funny hehehe

also Luis! great dude

okay but Bill FOSTER???? as in JANE FOSTER?? SEEMINGLY HAVING NO CONNECTION AT ALL???

there’s too many double names in this whole ass franchise and I’m upset

two Peters, two Eriks, two Fosters.... like I know that’s what real life is like, people have the same names, but THIS IS FICTION

YOU CAN AVOID THE CONFUSION

that wasn’t totally related to this movie specifically but this was the third strike dudes, I couldn’t just ignore it anymore.

oh oh oh and I did not appreciate the mid credits scene, I DON’T NEED REMINDERS OF THAT PAIN THANK YOU VERY MUCH

Captain Marvel

this one falls somewhere in the middle for me

like it was good, and I enjoyed it a lot, but it just wasn’t really anything that left me all like woooaaaah omg AH you know???

I really liked how it connected back to previous movies like with Ronan and the Kree people from GOTG and the tesseract and all that jazz

where can I get myself a flerken tho I want one

I appreciate that no one turned into dust, that was nice

my main problem with this movie is that HER POWERS MAKE NO SENSE

like in the beginning it was kinda okay. I didn’t understand her powers, but at least they felt reasonable

then we got to the end and all of a sudden she’s flying and glowing and strong enough to stop and redirect a fuckin missile, and then she’s FLYING INTO BOMBS AND COMING OUT THE OTHER END COMPLETELY UNSCATHED??

OH AND THEN SHE FLIES INTO FUCKIN SPACE WITHOUT A HELMET OR ANYTHING AND SHE CAN BREATHE JUST FINE???

it just makes no sense, it’s completely unreasonable and it makes her too perfect to me. Too unbeatable. I don’t like it.

but all in all a good movie, loved seeing young Fury and shit

Avengers: Endgame I WILL NEVER BE READY

As I thought, I wasn’t ready

But, I actually think that knowing about Tony beforehand made it a bit easier

I still wish I hadn’t known

and I still bawled like a baby

but like,,, I think I would have been way worse off if I hadn’t known

I’m just so sad now

I really need a hug

and even though I just cried more than I’ve done all year I need to cry some more I think

I’m glad everyone who got dusted came back, although I kinda knew they would

well, I would have been fine with Quill staying dusted tbh. I really don’t like that guy

NATASHA WAS NOT ALLOWED TO DIE, I WILL NOT BE OKAY WITH THIS :(

oh gosh yeah I know I have more thoughts about this movie that I wanna say but I need to be more okay first oh man

okay hi again, it’s the next day and I’m still sad but here are some more thoughts:

I hated the whole Bruce/Hulk think. All the good parts about each side of his character were just erased.

I don’t even see the purpose of it.

Okay I kinda knew that Steve was gonna go back to the 40s, but I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO KNOW THAT SO SHH

anyway, I didn’t like Steve staying in the 40s, and here’s why:

he knew that this was the single one out of 14 million times they won against Thanos, so he knew that changing anything at all would fuck it up

but at the same time, I find it hard to believe that Steve could be aware that Tony and Nat dies and not want to do anything about it

even though he knows he can’t

so wouldn’t it have been easier to just go back to the present after he returned all the stones? So he wouldn’t have to live with that dilemma?

ALSO, I WILL NOT ACCEPT that after everything he did to get Bucky back, he just leaves him. Just like that.

Literally the only reason this makes sense is as a setup for the Falcon and The Winter Soldier Disney+ series.

But I still don’t like it

Spiderman: Far From Home

This was nice, I needed this.

I didn’t like it as much as homecoming, but I didn’t expect to considering how much I loved hoco

it was really nice to see some more Peter Parker bc i love him but also like,,, most of it was traumatized spidey boy :((( and that was sad :(

He’s literally just a child and he’s already so damaged and it’s big big sad

the high school vibes were immaculate

not that I’ve actually been to high school in the US but like,,, it felt like a high school movie okok

Okay but like May’s character really did a full 180? I don’t really understand where that all came from, but uhhhh okay then

Okay, Quentin Beck.

before we realized he was bad, I already didn’t like him, cuz it seemed like he was gonna start to become a new father figure for Peter and I WAS NOT COOL WITH THAT

but then I understood that that wasn’t happening so it’s all good

he’s a pretty cool antagonist. not a fave, but pretty cool.

OH OH FLASH IS SO GAY FOR SPIDERMAN THO RIGHT

he actually got some real nice character development that I had not expected, that was nice

all in all, great movie, I love my spidey boy.

pretty sad that I’m done tho... :(

but also like, I watched all of them (except incredible hulk) in 34 days. That’s kinda impressive, right?

ALSO THERE’S NO MORE SPOILER DANGER YAY !!!

and finally, here is my ranking of the movies based on how much I liked them:

0. The Incredible Hulk ( didn’t watch )

SPIDERMAN: HOMECOMING

Thor: Ragnarok

Captain America: Winter Soldier

Avengers: Age of Ultron

Iron Man 3

Avengers

Captain America: Civil War

Spiderman: Far From Home

Iron Man

Avengers: Infinity War

Thor

Avengers: Endgame

Iron Man 2

Thor: The Dark World

Captain Marvel

Black Panther

Captain America: The First Avenger

Ant-Man and the Wasp

Guardians of the Galaxy 2

Ant-Man

Guardians of the Galaxy

Doctor Strange

#i did it guys #aw man #i'm a little bit lost now tbh #like what do i do now #ooc #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #infinity saga

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