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vad-hander · 3 years

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JAEBEOM, THE GUY FROM THE BAR

Pairing: Jaebeom x reader

Genre: Series | Eventual Smut | Angst | Fluff

Warnings: break up, cheating, strangers to lovers, mentions of drinking

Words: 3.8k

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Your head felt dizzy and you wouldn’t lie if you’d say that everything caved in and pulled out from under you.

The first sip you took was when your foot exited the store, unscrewing the lid of the wine you bought, immediately. It burned your throat, but the whole in your chest burned ten times stronger and you chose to deal with your inner pain first. Your feet walked you through the streets of Seoul, trying to focus your brain on something other than the void inside of you but failed miserably. The first bottle didn’t do its job yet and when you pressed it against your lips for another sip you noticed how it was already empty. The nearest bin became it’s grave and the nearest store became your saviour, allowing you to buy another drink. This time your eyes fell onto the beer, and you bought three bottles, opening them in the park nearby, you sat down on the grass, fishing out the cake you had baked a day before from the bag on your shoulder. Not bothering with the way you’d it eat you just bit into it, getting cake all over your face. You chuckled to yourself, wiping sweet goodness from your skin.

You turned on music in your headphones, playing every upbeat song there was, nodding your head and moving your foot to the beat, right until you felt warm trails of tears on your cheeks. You laid your head on the grass, hiding your face in your palms, not holding back anymore from crying.

You weren’t able to believe it, you couldn’t believe he did this to you. You never thought he’d cheat, you never thought you’d find out about it in such a bad way. You never expected this from Jeno, but then again, who ever expects their partner to cheat?

Your mind went again over everything you’ve been through in the past 8 months, your mind went through your friendship of 3 years, 3 years of you being head over heels for Jeno until one day you became more.

Suddenly you remembered how Jaebeom told you to break up with him making you hate everything about the situation even more. If you listened, you would’ve not went through what you just went through, but why would you listen to a stranger anyway? You hated the fact he was right, but one single memory of him made you want to see him.

You fished out your phone to search on the internet open hours of the bar. The website said 5 PM, making you shift your eyes up to the clock of your phone. It was already three, and since your plans for the day and maybe even life were ruined, you had no better things to do than just come there and wait for him. Wait for Jaebeom for no reason. Just because he was the only person that didn’t know Jeno, just because he was the only person you wanted to see.

The route in your phone promised you that you’d be there right before opening if you’ll walk, so without hesitation you sat up, collecting yourself and walking in the direction of the bar.

You tried to do everything for emptiness in your hands to bother you more, than the new feeling of having your heart ripped from your chest, and halfway to the bar you went to one more alcohol store, getting this time a proper drink - rum. You didn’t know where this rum addiction suddenly came from, but now you guessed it should be your signature drink when it came to meeting Jaebeom.

The familiar by now burn of the drink gave your brain one more reason to think about Jaebeom. You have almost forgot that you spilled your drink over him, almost forgot the way he said your name. Memories of him almost made a small shard of your heart go back in place, almost, because the image of Jeno with HER, made all of your insides clench in pain.

Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Jeno. Your brain went in overdrive, repeating his name like a mantra. Your fingers ached to dial his number but your brain knew you had nothing to tell him. Your love have died just like that, it didn’t go somewhere overnight, you didn’t wake up and understand that you didn’t love him anymore. He killed it with his actions, Jeno killed everything there was with his actions, and now you were killing memories of him in your head, finding the neck of the bottle with your lips.

From the side you must’ve looked like a psychopath, crying, laughing, talking to your own self, walking in a quicker and slower pace. Doing everything that came to your mind. Now you were free in every meaning possible, why’d you bother about anything?

You got there quicker than your phone have promised, seeing the door of the bar being closed. Not finding a better option than just sitting on the bench not far from the entrance, you placed the bottle next to you, only realising how tired you got from walking when your butt rested against wooden material of your seat. You looked around, noticing how the area of the bar was actually pretty quiet. Your eyes ran over the streets that were surrounding the building, wondering in your mind if one of those roads led to Jaebeom’s house.

Alcohol from the rum hit you like a rock, crawling from behind your brain with tiredness. You closed your eyes for a slight second, only to feel someone touch your shoulder the next moment.

“Are you alive?” a man asked you carefully. Your eyes blew open in fear, noticing how it was much darker outside. Your eyes focused on the man in front of you.

“Jaebeom.” you said quietly, sighing.

“Celebrating your boyfriends birthday to the max?” he joked, grabbing the bottle from next to you. You tried to smile back, biting your upper lip and lifting your eyes up to the sky to prevent from crying.

“No, I’m alone here.” your voice trembled and it was the last bit before you broke down. Hot tears streamed down your face, making you feel embarrassed. You barely could see Jaebeom’s face but he went quiet and you guessed he didn’t want to deal with that, expected.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, calm down.” his hands touched your cheeks and your insides turned upside down. “We’ll work everything out, you can tell me.” His thumbs drew soothing little circles under your eyes making you want to put it all in you to stop crying. You blinked multiple times finally being able to see his face properly for the first time this evening, seeing him squatting in front of you. He probably noticed you focus your vision on him, gifting you a kind smile. “Hi.”

“Hi.” you cleared your throat in a couple of seconds, finally replying. You thought he’ll let go of your face by now, but he kept his fingers glued to your cheeks, keeping his eyes glued to yours. You felt your breathing get heavier, but you attributed it to your recent crying.

“How come you’re so beautiful even when you’re crying?” he chuckled more to himself, beating air from your lungs completely.

Your hands slowly found Jaebeom’s on your cheeks, covering his hands with yours. You wanted to make him let go of you, but when you got the taste of what his hands felt like with your own, you changed your mind immediately.

People passed by, drunk and sober, some were just going in and some were already leaving. You didn’t know how long your nap took, you didn’t know how come you got so lucky to be woken up by Jaebeom and not some weird creep.

You stared at each other, both of you being scared to break the moment.

“Ya, Jaebeom, where did you get lost?” the voice of a guy made you jump in Jaebeom’s hands, turning your head in unison with Jaebeom to face the guy.

“Get lost, I’ll come later.” one of his hands left you, showing the guy to leave.

You let go of Jaebeom’s hand when he turned back to you, and he let go of your cheek too, sitting on the bench right next to you.

“Why did you sleep on the bench?” he asked not looking at you.

“Buy me a drink.”

“What?”

“You wanted to buy me a drink twice, now I agree.” you looked at him.

“I won’t.” he turned to face you.

“Why is that?”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“Is that all you had? Half of the rum?”

“No…” You said shamefully.

“What else?”

“Wine, beer and then this.” you listed quickly expecting any reaction from him, but he just watched you.

“Let’s go.” he quickly stood up after some time of silence.

“Where to?”

“Cafe next block. You need food and coffee, and when you’ll tell me everything I’ll see if you’re allowed to drink any more. Come on.” he signalled for you to go with his head and you stood up too, grabbing the bottle to take with you. “Give me that.”

“Why?”

“I’ll carry it for you. Don’t worry, I won’t throw it away, I see that you have a special relationship with rum. I won’t fight it.” he shot you a smile, pulling the bottle from your hands.

***

“Eat up.” Jaebeom moved the plate closer to you when the waitress that eyed him wildly finally left your sight.

“Thank you.” you sighed, picking the fork and a knife, cutting up the pancakes in the plate. Jaebeom took the coffee pot, pouring hot beverage into your cup and placing the pot back on the table. “Hey, have coffee too.” you furrowed your eyebrows.

“You eat, you need to sober up.”

“I never offered the food, don’t even dream of that.” you played with your eyebrows and Jaebeom chuckled at you, smiling at you sweetly for a few more seconds after you lowered your eyes to the plate.

You cut through the pancakes, sticking a few pieces on the fork. Lifting your eyes up you noticed that he poured coffee for himself too. You waited patiently for him to lift his eyes up at you.

“Open your mouth.” you commanded the next second he looked at you. A smirk lit up his face and a sudden regret rushed over your body. Maybe that was a bit overboard, maybe that’s the rum inside of you speaking. Whatever it was, it was way too late now to back off. Jaebeom nibbled on his lower lip with a smile, opening his mouth slightly and extending his neck towards you. Your hand moved up and froze in the air when your eyes focused on his mouth. Redness flashed over your face at the thoughts that ran in your head. How soft would his mouth feel on yours?

His hand quickly grabbed yours, moving it towards his face, forcing the fork into his mouth and biting the pancakes off it. He let go of your hand, letting it fall back onto the table.

“So tell me, what happened?” he asked you after he finished chewing. His elbows laid on the table, making you feel as if you were under interrogation.

“Don’t be a party pooper, I just began feeling better.” you whined, making Jaebeom laugh again. What’s up with him laughing at everything you say? We’re you that funny…? You never noticed before.

“I didn’t know you considered this a party.” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded quickly, forcing your attention into the plate, knowing if you’d keep your eyes on him a second longer you’d cry.

You stared into the plate through the whole time you ate, finishing the coffee in your cup, feeling how he stared at you quietly while you were consuming everything that was on the table.

“Jeno, my boyfriend, the guy you told me to dump, I guess he dumped me.” you leaned more into the seat, seeing Jaebeom’s face for the first time in a while. He kept quiet, allowing you to continue but you didn’t do it.

“On his birthday?”

“Yeah.”

“Right after you came with miyeok guk?”

“Yeah… well, I think technically before that.” you chuckled hysterically. “I came to his place, punched in the code and got to his bedroom only to find a topless girl on top of him. They were…” you coughed awkwardly.

“Fucking?” he asked carelessly.

“Yeah… that. So… I guess he only called me last night to find out if I’ll come early when she was already there, to see if he should make her leave or what. I shouldn’t have lied, if I didn’t I would’ve lived my happy clueless life. Want to know the funny part?”

“There is one?” Jaebeom seemed surprised.

“You were right about the girl, you probably did see her somewhere because she was the one with him. I doubt she is the friends sister now.” you sighed and moved in your seat worriedly. You felt better but at the same you felt wrong sharing this with him. “The ridiculous part is that you really did read through my entire life in a second. That’s really annoying.” you looked him in the eyes, chuckling. “And concerning as well, should I be listening to you from now on in everything I do?” you tried to joke with him once again and he gifted you another smile.

“I won’t protest, but I won’t force you either.” he looked you deep in the eyes. He did that way too often as if he tried to speak to you through staring.

“Would you like anything else?” waitress broke off the silence, ruining one of your moments.

“No, thanks.” Jaebeom gave the girl the same smile he always gave you, and a weird pinch of jealousy hit your chest. “Give us the bill, please.” his voice was soft and the girl smiled even brighter than before.

“Just a moment.” she bowed and left.

“So you’re friendly like that to everyone.” you noted to yourself but did it aloud for some reason.

“I’m friendly to everyone but for you I’m all that and even more.” he leaned in and extended his hand to you, laying it with his palm up for you to lay yours on top.

“Why?” he stretched his fingers signalling to you that he’s waiting.

“There should be a reason?”

“There’s a reason for everything.” you replied, fighting an inner battle if its appropriate now to touch his hand.

“Okay, then my reason is that I’m naturally attracted to you. Didn’t I tell you already multiple times that I liked you?” he sounded so casual as if he spoke about weather. Your hands felt cold due to fear you were experiencing. Was he meaning he liked you as a person? As a company? Or did he mean something else…? Something more? The idea of asking him to clarify these questions gave you a whiplash. His whole presence gave you constant whiplash with everything he said, did and even with the way he looked at you. You knew for sure you weren’t about to forget Jeno in a second and you were afraid to tell that to Jaebeom in case he didn’t mean it in that way at all. Jeno broke your heart and you knew that you needed more time to over-live it than 8 hours. At the same time you were afraid Jaebeom would laugh at your silly assumption of him wanting you by his side in a different way.

Giving him your hand to hold wouldn’t hurt anything though, right? You thought to yourself it wouldn’t and laid your palm on top of his.

“I thought you said I’m okay and we could be friends, now you doubted to lay your hand on top of mine for 10 minutes, I’m offended.” His fingers wrapped around your hand moving it closer to his side of the table. His other hand laid on top of yours and you shivered unconsciously hoping he didn’t notice. “ you’re funny, cute and smart, that’s his loss, you shouldn’t be crying about someone who didn’t only disrespect you, he just showed what type of person he is. He’s a trash bag if he cheated, don’t waste your nerves on that. It’s better you found out more or less quickly. If you need someone to rely on I can be by your side. You can call me anytime.” Jaebeom lifted your hands off the table, finding your eyes with his, biting his lower lip. Lifting your hands higher, he lowered his head, planting a small kiss on the back of your hand. You couldn’t help but smile shyly at his gesture. “Give me your phone, by the way.”

“Oh?” you asked surprised but didn’t want to protest or question him any further, moving your hand from his and getting your phone out on the table. You unblocked it getting startled by the photo on the home screen. The photo of you being on Jeno’s back, kissing his cheek sweetly, while he bended and smiled into the camera happily. You wanted to change it quickly for Jaebeom to not see but your hands just froze. The void in your chest suddenly enlarged to the previous size.

Jaebeom grabbed the phone from your hands before you could even realise it and began doing something you couldn’t see. It took him longer than you expected and you bit your tongue to not ask questions.

You watched him focusing his vision onto the screen of your phone, probably typing his phone number into your contacts while you were just appreciating his handsome features.

“Would you like to pay by card or cash?” the waitress appeared scaring you once again.

“Card.” you said in unison. Jaebeom gave you a look, laying your phone by his side.

“I ate, I’ll pay.” you expanded your hand to grab the phone and pay with it but he caught your hand with his, making you blush because you could definitely feel the waitresses eyes on your hands.

“No.” he nodded strictly and the piercing gaze that he gave you killed your will to fight with him over that.

“Thanks for food… and for words you said…” you told him when the both of you exited the cafe. “You really are a good friend I guess.” you lifted your eyes to see his face.

“You want to go home?” he sounded disappointed. “Sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

“No, I’m just saying thank you.” you smiled. “Or were you hoping to not spend any more money on me? Didn’t you promise me a drink?” you whined jokingly.

“I thought you’re trying to run away from me.”

“No.” You shook your head.

“Good, i wouldn’t let you anyway.” he stepped closer invading your private space. “I’ll buy you as many drinks as you’d want me to…” he raised his arm and you stopped breathing to see what he’ll do next and he moved his palm closer to your cheek, making it burn with the electricity that was forming in the space between you two, but dropped his hand back down the next second. “Just stay by my side… for tonight, at least.” his hand found your wrist, pulling you to go after him towards the entrance of the bar. 15 minutes later the both of you were sitting at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice you called him.

“Rum and coke?” Jaebeom asked with a laugh.

“I’ll have what you’ll have.”

“Okay.” he nodded seriously, lifting his arm again. “Two shots of vodka.” he gestured number two with his fingers.

“Just a second.” your eyes ran from Jaebeom to bartender quickly, trying to see if he was about to tell you it was a joke, but he didn’t. Even when the shot glasses hit the bar he watched bartenders moves quietly, only looking up at you when the order was done.

“I didn’t know that’s what you meant when you said you want to buy me a drink.” you laughed awkwardly.

“That’s just because you said you want what I want.” he pushed the glass towards you more.

Your eyes ran between Jaebeom and vodka.

“Okay, on the count of 3.” you grabbed the glass.

“No, no, both of these are for you.”

“What?”

“Drink.” he gestured.

“Jaebeom.” you sighed disapprovingly.

“You’ll feel better when you’ll stop thinking about everything.”

“I’ll pass out, if it seemed to you that I’m a great drinker, you’re wrong. I’m not drinking often and I’m not really taking it well.”

“You can chill out, I won’t let anything happen to you even if you’ll pass out.” his hand reached your cheek, caressing it a few times.

“Give me a single reason why I should trust my life to a stranger?” you asked curiously.

“To see that I’m not just a stranger to you anymore.” his hand stopped moving and his eyes glued to you in anticipation. Your hand slowly found the glass without looking away from Jaebeom, raising it to your lips, you exhaled, quickly downing the shot. Now that you were completely sober the drink burned like hell and there was nothing to wash down vodka, so you just grabbed the other glass too, downing it in a span of a second. You felt Jaebeom’s hand move from your cheek to your neck, while you were wrinkling your face in disgust, suddenly pulling you by it from where you sat into his embrace. You fell, resting your body against his as if you were a small child, feeling his hand let go of your neck and rest against your back. Your face hid in the crook of his neck and you couldn’t not point out to yourself how bloody good he smelled. Everything about him was always too good to be true. He seemed perfect to the extent it felt concerning but you guessed it was a bit too late to back off now.

When you finally were able to open your eyes again you still felt his hands on your waist, moving yours to rest against his shoulders to push back a little. He didn’t let go of you, leaving his fingers to burn the skin of your sides even through the clothes.

“I didn’t think you’d actually drink both.” he chuckled “you fine?” you nodded yes and he allowed you to sit back.

“I want more.” you turned to face him when you sat.

“More of what?”

“Whatever you’ll buy me.” you smiled at him feeling a bit drunk. Jaebeom nodded at you, biting on his lower lip.

One more round of pure alcohol, and that’s the last thing you remember of the evening.

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bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture · 3 years

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Happy New Year! I think my goal for this year for this blog will be to try to catch up to at least the beginning of the current arc, if not with the manga as a whole. I’ve got 365 days and a bit shy of 300 chapters (not counting those that will go up this year) so… we’ll see! Gotta Plus Ultra everything, right?

(Of course, that doesn’t account for all the chapters I’m likely to break into multiple parts, like this one… alas, I will just simply see how far I can get.)

[No. 9 - Deku vs. Kacchan]

Starting this chapter off with another western-style comic book cover, with the two coming to blows in costume. Really contrasts when you think of DvK2, which happens out of costume but yet someone comes off as more intense/important to both of them… I wonder what DvK3 will look like?

The chapter itself starts with future Izuku narrating a bit of backstory - that he and Katsuki had grown up in the same neighborhood, so they were childhood friends. He considered Katsuki the fearless type who could do anything, thus becoming the leader of their small gang of friends, and that at the time he wasn’t ‘bad’ or ‘good, just confident, which Izuku admired. However, with Katsuki’s quirk came his slide towards ‘bad’, and the page (and flashback) ends with Izuku echoing the words from the very start of the manga - people are not born equal, a lesson he learned at four.

(As an aside, I really like how the flashback segments are sprinkled through the chapter and slowly add onto the context behind their relationship instead of being shown all at once. It’s better pacing and doesn’t interrupt the flow of the present fight.)

We transition back to the present, with the same moment of Katsuki claiming that Izuku’s defiance even while scared pisses him off as we ended off with in the last chapter. Also, Ochako right behind Katsuki, that was a lost opportunity to attack, even if it wouldn’t have worked. I suppose it was part of Izuku’s plan, but still…

Tenya tries to get Katsuki to give him an update, but Katsuki just tells him to shut up and keep watch while Katsuki wrecks ‘someone’ (cough Izuku). Tenya tries to warn Katsuki to not let emotions get the better of him, only to be frustrated when Katsuki cuts the transceiver, calling him a scoundrel.

Honestly, this is really fucking hilarious considering a few dozen chapters from now is basically:

Tensei: is injured

Tenya: (✿◉‿◉)🔪

Moving on, we switch back to the viewing room, with Kirishima asking about the lack of sound from the cameras. All Might notes they’re communicating with micro-transceivers given to them along with the blueprints and capture tape - the latter of which is used to provide proof of ‘capture’ when tied around the opponent. Kirishima then goes on to ask/clarify that the heroes only have fifteen minutes but no idea where the weapon is located, which All Might confirms. Mina (finally looking as she should) notes that the heroes are at a disadvantage, and All Might tells them it’s like Aizawa said, and leads them through the school motto - Plus Ultra!

Honest to god, what support company willingly made this? Why did they not just dumpster it as an affront to God and make something normal??

Anyways, Aoyama is the one to first notice whatever Katsuki is doing, and All Might turns back to the monitors to watch as well. And so we switch back to inside the building, with Katsuki blasting himself at Izuku. Izuku tells Ochako to run ahead while blocking an explosion-boosted kick to the head. Ochako does so despite her obvious worry for Izuku, and Katsuki ignores her entirely, telling Izuku to worry about himself. Katsuki then gets a moment of shock when Izuku turns out to have used the capture tape to catch Katsuki’s leg before he could pull it away.

Notebook no. 10… we have no idea when he started them, but based on the average time of a notebook being a few months shy of a year, this would likely have been either his last year of elementary or first year of middle school (about age 11/12), so… Izuku has known Eraserhead for quite a while - perhaps in a desperate search for heroes who fought ‘quirkless’ or ‘almost quirkless’? Sadly, I can't make out the text on the page, though I know there’s translations out there that I just have no idea how to locate at the moment… alas.

But yeah, Izuku predicts Katsuki’s next move, and takes advantage of that knowledge to dodge under the next blast without injury. The rest of the class is impressed with Izuku’s ability to go toe-to-toe against the entrance exam’s top scorer without his quirk, while Katsuki keeps getting shocked at Izuku’s moves.

All Might notes that Izuku has always excelled at making split-second decisions, and also his thorough memorization of all the hero-related things he’s been writing in his notebooks - with a short flashback to All Might reading through the notebook while Izuku had been unconscious after being attacked by the Sludge Villain!

Izuku is frustrated, thinking that he had Katsuki, but that one rope wouldn’t be enough to hold him. He thinks about how Toshinori told him he could be a hero, and that with all that support behind him, it was time to show what he was made of.

...and then he immediately bolts around a corner, with Katsuki snapping at Izuku to get back, and then going on to shout about how it ‘must have been fun tricking Katsuki all this time’ and ‘hiding that flashy quirk of his’. Izuku’s expression at that is, according to the discord (because I can’t quite tell myself) frustration, but it might also be a bit of sadness as well?

Katsuki finishes his complaints / telling with more explosions and shouting how Izuku should ‘bring it on’ and that he’d still crush him. With the class, Kaminari notes how angry Katsuki is and that it’s scary. All Might himself…

Wow. Why do people in this fandom think Izuku is way too nice and forgiving of Katsuki when we get moments like this?

Fanon Izuku 1: Kacchan has done nothing wrong ever in his entire life

Fanon Izuku 2: Bakugou is a horrible human being who should never have been allowed to be a hero

Canon Izuku: Kacchan is actually a bitch, but damn do I admire his confidence and skill

Also, we see you there Nerd Might:

We come back to Izuku crouched down by a corner somewhere, panting a bit as he analyses the situation. He notes how Katsuki came right for him and ignored Ochako, and that the smart play for the villain team would have been for Tenya to be the vanguard because of his superior mobility and speed. Since he bets Tenya also knows that, this is probably Katsuki rampaging on his own, so there’s no teamwork happening. We then get a lovely mental image while Izku notes that if both of them had come at the hero team from the start, it would have been really hard to win. He also notes that sticking with Ochako would have likely led to that two on two situation, with him and Ochako wasting too much time on Katsuki, but with them split up, they have a stronger chance since she can go after the weapon and capture Tenya. If he can just follow after her, it’ll be a two on one fight against him, meaning they’ll win!

...so long as Izuku can win against Katsuki. He wipes at the small amount of blood trickling from his nose, telling himself he’ll be fine so long as he watches out for Katsuki’s palms. He thinks back on the past, where he’d told Katsuki he wasn’t trying to compete with him, and says in the present that he takes it all back.

Since the next couple of pages are the flashback portions on Katsuki’s end, I am gonna cut it off here, because those deserve their own post.

Also, on request from the discord:

youtube

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oncelers-panties · 4 years

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It´s so easy

In which Once-ler gets to spend the night at his idol´s hotel room.

Pairing: Groupie! Once-ler x Rockstar! Greed-ler

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Drug Use, Choking, Overstimulation, general n/sfw

Ao3 Link

“Here we are; sit wherever you like.”

Once-ler obeyed, meekly walking over to a large sofa in the middle of the room and taking a seat, trying to find a spot that wasn´t littered with beer cans and empty fast-food wrappings.

He looked around in awe; taking in the luxury suite that shone in red and golden colors, windows with heavy velvet drapes and a chandelier bathing the room in gentle light. He´d never seen anything like this in real life, mostly because a single night at such a place would cost thrice the amount he made at all his part-time jobs combined.

Of course, it wasn´t Once-ler paying for the room, but his most beloved music idol, who had invited him over for the night. The whole situation still seemed so surreal to him. Not only had he gotten the Rockstar’s number, had tickets to his latest show given to him for free and got to meet the band backstage. Right after the show, Greed had taken him along, calling for cab to drive them to the hotel the musician was staying in. What were the odds for something like that to happen to an average person?

A weight pushing down the cushion next to him interrupted the devotee’s thoughts, and he turned his head to carefully look at his idol. He was still unsure how to behave around him, feeling endlessly excited and curious on the one hand, but also bashful and reluctant on the other. Being an unimportant nobody in the presence of someone this famous, someone who had pictures of his image printed all over the world, who had thousands of dedicated followers ready to fall to their knees for him, at any time… it felt unreal, to put it lightly, and Once-ler felt his nervousness getting stronger with every second, questioning why the Rockstar would want to spend time with someone like him.

Greed, on the other hand, didn´t seem worried in the slightest. With a relaxed sigh, he made himself comfortable, stretching his limbs, black-painted lips curving into a grin as he turned to his visitor.

“You like it?”

Once-ler nodded vigorously, fumbling with his fingers a little.

“Y-yeah, a lot. The, uhm… décor, it´s very nice.”

He watched as Greed reached for something on the table that stood right by the couch. It was also full of junk, empty cigarette packets, overfilled ashtrays, bottles of liquor and boxes overflowing with tobacco. The musician grabbed a glass- one that was at least somewhat clean- and filled it with whiskey.

“What about the show? You had fun there?”

“Oh, definitely! It was a great performance; you were all fantastic. Thank you so much for the tickets, and- and everything, that was so kind.”

The man was stumbling over his words, trying his hardest to not sound like an idiot. He really did not want to make a fool of himself in front of his idol, and ruin this one opportunity many others wouldn´t even dare to dream about. But it was difficult, staying collected, with those emerald eyes fixating on him so attentively.

“Well, you gotta give your fans a little treat sometimes, you know? It´s a… what´s the word? Symbiotic relationship. After all, without them cheering us on, we´d have nothing. So we have to treat them well, and they´ll be good to us, too.”

With these words, he scooted over to his visitor, making it so that their legs were touching. Once-ler shivered a little from the sudden contact.

“Who´s your favorite band member? It´s gotta be me, right?”

Greed´s smirk turned cocky, and his devotee let out a small laugh at that.

“I´m pretty sure you´re everyone´s favorite.”

“That´s because no one else in that damn group knows how to keep a crowd entertained to save their shit.”

The musician emptied his glass in one go, quickly refilling it, offering one to Once-ler as well, who accepted gladly, hoping it would help him calm his nerves a little. They went silent for a while as each was sipping on their drink, and at one point, the blue-eyed man could feel his idol snake a hand around his waist, pulling him close. He flushed deeply at the feeling of Greed´s breath on his ear, at the way his eyes were wandering over his body. The devotee was scantily dressed, a loose shirt that almost hung off his shoulders and tight jean shorts which nicely accentuated the slim figure. It was useful for combating the summer heat, and for drawing curious gazes in his direction, as well.

“That´s a cute outfit, love. You put that on for me?”

Wandering fingers found their way between his thighs, drawing small circles and stroking along the skin. Once-ler mewled softly, legs opening up by themselves at the pleasant sensation.

“Maybe,” he breathed, tiny moan leaving his mouth when his idol pressed a deep kiss to the side of his neck, then one more, and soon it was covered in black lipstick stains all over. Head lolling to the side, Once-ler closed his eyes in bliss, body getting heated as the other´s touches got firmer and more demanding. Greed´s teeth scraped at his skin, not yet biting, and his hand went upward, disappearing beneath the devotee´s shirt to caress the flat stomach. At the same time, the man´s tongue poked out, flicking at Once-ler´s earlobe before tracing the shell, causing him to gasp and squirm in his seat, grasping at the soft cushion he was sitting on. Already, the familiar heat was building up in his lower regions, and even though he was still feeling tense, his idol´s touches made it difficult to not just give in and surrender to his will at once.

The musician nibbled on his visitor´s ear, smiling in satisfaction at the sounds he already managed to get out of him with only so little.

“Hey, you wanna try something out? It´ll make this whole thing feel even better,” he murmured playfully against the other´s jaw, causing him to look up questioningly.

Greed took his hands away to rummage through the junk on his table, then took hold of a plastic pill bottle, undoing the lid with a pop. After shaking it above his open palm, a small, pink pill dropped out, and he offered it to Once-ler with a mischievous expression.

The devotee stared at it in surprise, unsure what to do. He had experimented with these kinds of things before, so it wasn´t really new to him. Still, he had often been warned not to take “candy” from strangers, and despite the fact that he had come to the musician´s place willingly, allowing himself to be this vulnerable around someone he knew next to nothing about seemed like a bad idea.

On the other hand, if he had already come this far, getting to spend a night with the Greed, why not enjoy it to the fullest? When else would he ever get an opportunity like this? Life was dull and stressful; he could as well fully let go and indulge himself this once.

Abandoning all caution, he reached for the drug, but the Rockstar pulled away.

“Say ‘ahh’, dollface,” Greed purred, waiting for his visitor to open his mouth and placing the pill on his tongue.

Once-ler gulped it down, eyes going wide when his idol cupped his face right after, bringing their lips together in a rough kiss. He sighed in delight, gladly allowing the man to take control and shove his tongue inside, immediately noticing an unfamiliar but pleasant feeling as the other´s flesh roamed around. Greed had gotten a tongue piercing a while ago, and the way the piece of metal rubbed against the roof of the devotee´s mouth, the underside of his tongue, clacked against the back of his teeth- it felt so undeniably exciting, causing the blue-eyed man to moan into the kiss, grabbing onto the Rockstar’s shirt and pulling him closer. Humming softly at his visitor´s enthusiasm, the musician deepened the kiss, pulling away now and then to bite and lick at the other´s lower lip and the corners of his mouth, smudging them with his make-up as well. Once-ler´s fascination with his piercing did not remain unnoticed by Greed, and he stuck his tongue out cheekily, fully displaying it to his visitor. The devotee held his breath at that sight, feeling his member twitch in those way too tight shorts, and flicked the tip of his own tongue over the metal, playing with it before sucking lewdly at the decoration.

“Naughty boy,” the musician drawled out, pushing Once-ler down by his shoulders as he went to attack the inside of his mouth again, positioning one knee between his legs and pressing it teasingly against the noticeable bulge. Groaning, the man lifted his hips to get more out of the sensation, arms wrapping around the other´s neck, fingers desperately combing through the damp, dark locks. Greed, after delivering one last, messy kiss, abandoned his visitor’s lips, focusing instead on the flushed neck and shoulders.

Sharp bites resulting in cherry-red marks were followed by licks and kisses, turning Once-ler´s breath into uneven panting. Whatever it was Greed had given him was working fast; he felt as if he was being weighed down by a soft, heavy warmth that enveloped him from head to toe. All that was left of his tension was melting away, and every touch the man delivered felt so very intense, making sparks shoot through his body and causing a pleasant, tingling sensation that lingered even after the contact. And while Once-ler would have usually felt somewhat self-conscious about anyone looking at his- in his opinion- much too skinny form, at that moment there was nothing but excitement, and he giggled a little when his idol lifted up his shirt, the cool air of the room making his skin erupt in goosebumps.

Greed let his fingers run over the smooth chest once, but stopped his caresses, turning away.

“Alright, love, lay still just like that, ok?” he murmured smilingly, searching for something on the table again. He was quick to find it, a small, transparent packet that he opened with care. The devotee watched in wonder as the other spread its contents- a fine, white powder- onto his exposed chest, forming two thin lines with his little finger. Greed gave his visitor a devious look, holding one nostril shut as he snorted one line off his body and repeated the process with the second one. Throwing his head back with a groan, he sniffed a few more times, exhaling through his mouth before wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Wide-eyed, Once-ler took the whole scene in, transfixed by the musician´s face, his smudged makeup and messy hair, the way his expression changed as bliss slowly overtook him, pupils dilating. He looked so dirty, so depraved, so damn bad, and the blue-eyed man felt as if he was gazing upon the most beautiful fucking thing in the entire world. Greed seemed to have similar thoughts, judging by the way he looked down at his visitor, eating every inch of his body up with his eyes.

He buried his teeth in Once-ler´ s skin, sucking hungrily at his ribs and collarbones, stroking the hips that peeked out from underneath the man´s shorts with his thumbs, turning his devotee into a moaning mess, making him curve his spine for every touch. Once-ler started trembling when the other bit his nipples, piercing rubbing against them with every roll of his tongue, providing additional pleasure. His body was out of his control at this point, but he didn´t mind, letting the musician take the lead.

“It´s cute how sensitive you are,” Greed whispered, taking in the sweet and sour smell of sweat that lingered on the other´s skin. “You´re so good, baby, so fun to play with… and you like all the attention a lot, don´t you?”

“Yes,” the blue-eyed man mewled, impatiently rutting against his idol´s knee. “Wanna be good. Please- more?”

It was getting increasingly hard for him to speak or even think, his tongue feeling heavy just as the rest of his body and mind unable to focus on anything but Greed and the wonderful, pleasurable things he was doing with his mouth and fingers.

The celebrity licked his lips, endeared by how quickly his visitor was willing to surrender himself to him. “Let´s go somewhere more comfortable for that, yeah?”

Standing up, he lifted the other from the sofa, carried him to the suite´s bedroom where he put him down on the soft mattress of the kind-sized bed. Once-ler´s shorts and underwear were dealt with in a second, Greed sliding them off the long legs and letting them fall to the floor before staring, captivated, at the now fully exposed flesh, the throbbing, painfully hard manhood that ached for his touch, and those needy, needy eyes…

Greed rid himself of his shirt as well, allowing his visitor to marvel at the sculpted abs he would gladly bury his face in, then placed his hands onto Once-ler´s slim waist, letting them travel further down to the narrow hips, spreading the man´s legs apart to grope the inside of his thighs, all while running the tip of tongue over the man´s length, pressing it flat against the slit and licking off the precum.

“Do you know how vulnerable you are, love? I could do whatever I damn please with you right now, and all you could do would be to just lie there and take it, like a good boy,” he said darkly, leaving a hickey on the other´s upper thigh, noticing how his devotee´s dick twitched at his words.

Groaning, Once-ler moved his hips, rubbing himself against his idol´s tongue, the contact causing fireworks to explode behind his closed eyes. It was painful at this point, he knew the man had what he needed and he wanted it so, so badly, for Greed to fuck him within an inch of his life with no holding back, and he didn´t feel like he could wait any longer.

“Pleeease,” he begged again with a whine, pulling on the musician´s hair, “please, you can have me any way you want… don´t care, need this-“

He yelped as he was suddenly grabbed by the hips and forced onto all fours, his behind being pulled upwards and slapped roughly, a stinging pain remaining.

“Prepare yourself for me. Do it properly, I want a show.”

Once-ler heard Greed open up a drawer, pulling something out of it that he then handed to his devotee. A bottle of lubrication that he, blushing, opened with shaky hands, almost letting it fall as he coated his fingers with the substance. Even the motion of extending his arm backwards felt a little difficult, making him feel like he no longer had any control over his movements, but the thought of being at the other´s mercy was even more of a turn-on, and he bit his lip in anticipation as he guided his fingers towards his entrance, flinching of how the cold liquid felt against his heated skin.

He circled one digit around the hole before carefully easing it in, moan escaping his lips. The drug was making him feel relaxed and increased his sensitivity and pleasure threefold, leaving him wanting more and bucking his hips against his fingers as he inserted a second one right after. He curled and scissored them against the hot, tight walls, mewling noises sounding each time he pulled in and out. Behind him, Once-ler heard the sound of a fly opening, and turned around to see Greed finally freeing himself from his impossibly tight leather pants, pumping slowly at his erect length as he watched the scene before him with clouded eyes. His devotee decided to turn it up a notch, lightly swinging him hips from side to side while fingering himself, always going all the way before pulling back. It had the desired effect on the musician, who growled lowly, and pressed his member against the back of the other´s thigh in impatience.

“You´re just incredible, baby,” he murmured, groping the other´s behind and licking a bead of sweat off of his back, “I could look at you all fucking day. This something you do often? You like having someone watch you?”

“I- ahh…” Once-ler´s reply was cut short by his idol biting the back of his neck just as he was about to insert a third finger, causing him to scream from the unexpected, yet sweet pain. Through all of this, he tried to string together an answer, but barely anything coherent made its way out of his mouth. He was losing himself, vision whiting out each time he managed to sloppily hit his hot spot with the tip of his fingers. The way he looked now, all covered in smudged lipstick stains and hickeys, eyes rolling to the back of his head and spit glistening on his parted lips- it was too much for Greed, who could not bring himself to be patient any longer.

“That´s enough,” the musician commanded, roughly pushing his devotee´s head into the pillow. “For someone that sweet looking to be such a whore… didn´t you tell me before, something about your Ma having been really strict with you? I wonder what she´d say, finding out about her pure baby boy allowing a stranger to fuck him senseless.”

Once-ler was firmly held by his waist, screaming loudly and arching his back when his idol thrusted inside with no warning, not even giving him a chance to get accustomed to the feeling. No, he was being inconsiderate, merciless and so, so rough- just as the blue-eyed man needed, as he had dreamed to be taken and used so many nights before. It was something that no other partner, neither long term nor one-night fling, had been able to deliver quite like that, and he was already getting shamelessly addicted to Greed´s touches. His vision went blurry with tears, frail body trembling under the harsh thrusts, so much it made him feel like he´d break apart any second. At one point he found himself on his back again, legs thrown over his idol´s shoulders, who managed to get that perfect angle just right in that position. Then, there was the sensation of long fingers wrapping around his neck, pushing down a little, but not yet squeezing. Greed didn´t even need to ask for permission, his devotee was more than willing to be completely ruined regardless of any risks, pulling on his wrists in an attempt to make him harden his grip.

In an instant, Once-ler´s air supply was cut off, the breath he had been holding getting stuck in his throat. Pathetic, choked whimpers sounded from his mouth as he mindlessly clawed at his idol´s arms, whole body shivering in ecstasy. His mind was shutting down, registering only the waves of euphotic bliss that washed over him whenever Greed hit his sweet spot, and the throbbing heat that was building up in his lower body, indicating the fast approaching release. His vision began going black, ears ringing as his conscious began fading due to the lack of oxygen, but it did not matter, not when it took only a few more thrusts for him to come undone onto his chest, moans turning into hoarse sobs and cries.

With glistening, vacant eyes all puffy and cheeks wet with tears, he grabbed Greed by the hair, pulling him downwards. The grip around his neck got loose, allowing him to gasp for air, but his idol was still ruthlessly moving inside him, chasing his own climax.

“That´s it, baby, god, I love our voice,” the man whispered, lightly trapping Once-ler´s bottom lip between his teeth. His hand wandered from his devotee´s throat to his softened, now hypersensitive cock, massaging it along with his thrusts. “Can you cum for me again, call out for me?”

Too much, it was all too much, the devotee´s senses were all over the place, stars spinning before his eyes and insides feeling like they were set on fire, his idol was breaking him, ripping him into pieces in the most wonderfully agonizing way that his overstimulated mind could barely comprehend at this point. Yet still, like a prayer, Greed´s name danced on his tongue, he cried it out again and again until his voice got weak, until the feeling of their bodies blending together brought him another little death, making him spasm and scratch the other man´s neck raw, sore throat unable to emit anything other than a silent cry. At the same time, Greed was pushed over the edge by the tight heat of the shaking body contracting around him, and he pulled out to stain the other´s stomach and chest with thick ropes of cum, taking one more glance at his beautifully defiled devotee before collapsing at his side, trying to catch his breath.

Once-ler could faintly hear sweet, mindless words of praise being whispered to him, perhaps even fingers running through his hair. He wasn´t sure, as he was out cold seconds later, slipping away into a deep, dreamless slumber, his exhausted mind demanding rest. And little did he know that emerald eyes were watching intently over his sleeping form, that this was the beginning of him becoming the Rockstar´s new favorite plaything, with all the consequences that came along with that.

#onceler #once-ler #oncest #oncelerxgreedler #fanfiction

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that-damn-girl · 4 years

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Never More Than Me

(Oneshot)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (Stucky)

Part of my collection of oneshots/drabbles for Stucky in the same universe in chronological order - His. Could be read as a STAND ALONE since ‘His’ is NOT a series.

Words: 2700+

Type: Fluff. Self-love/Self-empowerment.

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Stronger more than ever, Bucky knows how to reply to hateful comments delivered on the streets.

A/N: A huge thank you to @lisamott9 for letting me use their lovely artwok for this fic. CHECK OUT HER BLOG for other amazing creations of her. I assure you, you won’t be disappointed.

For as far as one could see, there were busy pedestrians walking up and down the sidewalk as the cars rushed by in a flurry of various colours. Everyone went about their lives. Mixing in and walking among those was Bucky. The ones walking towards or away from him didn’t pay him any heed. He didn’t mind it though. He preferred it that way. Made it all the way easier to spot anyone who actually did.

Bucky loved the sweet spring air entering his lungs. It was a far cry from the crisp chilled winter air which made him feel like his lungs were being poked from the inside with every breath he took. It signalled the approach of summer, making him feel even better.

The sun felt heavenly where it touched Bucky’s skin beneath the baseball cap. There wasn’t much area to touch, but the slight warmth greeting him everytime he stepped out of the shadows the of buildings towering over him and onto the sunlit ground gave him good vibes.

The hushed murmurs could he heard all around. The passers-by talked into devices loud enough to be heard normally to their virtual companion but low to maintain a sense of privacy from those in real life. Murmurs were heard by the general people though. Bucky was enhanced.

In addition to those, he also heard every drag of the soles against the rough pavement. The garments and accessories shuffled and rubbed loud in his ears as everyone lugged themselves. What others would call a murmur, he called it talking clear because that’s how the voices around were for him.

But Bucky chose to focus on the only whose mattered to him. The sweet yet manly and adoring voice talked to him. Though they didn’t hold each other’s hands since they wanted to keep their relationship hidden, there was a giddy excitement flowing through Bucky as he walked down the street.Both Steve and Bucky wore goofy grins. Why wouldn’t he? They’d just had had there first date at the pancake house.

It wasn’t much. They were spending the week in the city due to interview invites and Stark events being held at the tower. Bucky didn’t want to miss the opportunity to dine at the lovely pancake house he’d missed so much. Steve knew what Bucky had wanted without saying.

When they were returning from their morning run, Steve stopped him outside the establishment and asked, “Do you wanna go out on a pancake date with me, beautiful?”

Bucky’s heart had bloomed inside his chest. He’d desperately wanted to grab Steve’s face and kiss him crazy, but he had to refrain himself. Instead he gave his boyfriend that mesmerising smile which mattered to Steve more than a million dollars.

They enjoyed the pancakes as sweet as they come. Thanks to their hunger and metabolism and Bucky’s immense liking to this place, the pancake house made quite a revenue out of them.

When they entered, Bucky immediately greeted the old sweet lady behind the counter like he always did when he still lived at the tower. The other diners he went to didn’t have the luxury of welcoming a toothy little shit like Mrs. Collins did.

Despite his ‘disguise’, she’d recognised him as the Winter Soldier when he tried out this place for the first time. She didn’t mind being in the company of the world’s deadliest ex-assasin asking for sweet honey dipped pancakes as soon as she’d flipped the open sign in her shop. She’d seen past the Winter Soldier. She’d seen Bucky Barnes at first glance.

Bucky didn’t know what it was about her, but he liked her enough to smile at their first meeting, but he did. He didn’t know why he kept giving her warm smiles or why his insides would feel warm when she’d smile back or give him free treats on the side of his regular pancakes. Maybe it was that motherly touch in her gaze and demeanour, though he knew that she was decades younger than his hundred year old self.

Bucky thought he might’ve been imagining things as he caught the knowing look and sly greeting Mrs. Collins gave him when she saw him and Steve together with smiles beaming brighter the sun outside. They took a seat at a booth in the far corner, away from the other patrons.

Most might think they were just a couple of dudes having their breakfast after their running routines. They were that too, but also a couple of dudes helplessly in love who lived every moment to cherish the other and thank what super powers made it possible for them to be together. They were a couple of over a hundred year old dudes who held hands under the table like teenagers.

The breakfast was sweet and great. The moment when they had to part away their hands not so much. Yet Bucky was happy for all that happened that morning.

Yes, it wasn’t much. But it meant the world to Bucky.

He didn’t need anything fancy. He had wanted Steve for so long and that wish had been fulfilled. Now he’d hardly get any satisfaction even close to that which he felt when he realised that Steve was finally his.

Steve wanted to pamper Bucky though. He wanted to take Bucky to fancy candle lit dinners and long drives under the sun. He wanted to watch the twinkle in his eyes as Bucky star-gazed countless nights away, because Bucky was the star right in the center of Steve’s world. Because Bucky deserved all this and so much more.

Steve thought so, but there were still some who didn’t.

As they walked down the street, though not hand in hand but heart in heart, they heard a group of frat boys behind them. The young boys talked about varied topics until they started gushing about the Avengers and their latest interview last night.

“Tony Stark, always in style. Man, I wish I could pull off his swag.”

"Black Widow? She was just so intimidating, her glares made those reporters piss their pants. Oof!”

“And Vision looked so human. I couldn’t believe he was actually an android!”

“I wish they brought Spiderman. It would have been so cool to know who he was.”

They went on and on about different Avengers. Some wished that there were more personal questions asked. Some wished they’d shown up for interview in their full costume.

Bucky and Steve shared amused glances, both trying to stifle their own laughter. It felt nice though, listening to people talk well about them and low-key fangirling after them. They didn’t do what they did for the fame, but yeah, it felt to good to be recognised and appreciated. Until it didn’t.

“I don’t get why they brought along the Winter Soldier though. Spiderman could’ve come in his place! Someone who actually saves people’s lives rather than an amnesiac assassin should’ve been there.”

Listening to the words, Bucky blanched. It brought back all those insecurities he had been trying to fight off and had almost succeeded. He knew all that had happened in the past was not his fault. He knew, he knew, he knew.

And then he didn’t.

Steve could see the smile faltering on Bucky’s face. His own had turned into a scowl. One slight turn to Bucky and Steve could see the anguish haunting Bucky’s eyes. All that Bucky had decided to leave in the past and move on came back rushing to him like a moth drawn to a flame. The sudden stiffness in Bucky’s shoulders as he walked didn’t go unnoticed by Steve. It only made him clench his fists. The urge to smash someone’s face had never risen so hard and fast in Steve. The good ol’ Captain America image be damned.

Bucky’s hand came to rest on stressed Steve’s forearm as if on instinct. Of course, Bucky knew what Steve intended. Who knew Steve like the back of his better than Bucky?

Bucky’s, or rather the Winter Soldier’s name was already stained with dark violence more than anyone else. He didn’t need anymore of it. He was seen as the bad guy without even meaning to. He couldn’t let Steve dirty his Captain America’s name for him more than he already had.

Steve relaxed his arm under Bucky’s touch, but the pure fire and hatred simmering within him couldn’t be calmed down. Listening to someone trash talk about another without knowing all the facts, specially about his love didn’t sit well with him. He had to, no, he needed to punch the speaker of those words behind him.

But he didn’t. Not because it’d be another PR nightmare if Captain America was seen punching a twenty something year old boy, but because Bucky didn’t want him to. Not that he agreed with him, but he’d do whatever Bucky wanted him to within reason. Though he found it very hard to see his request within reason.

“Honestly, I don’t know what they saw in him to let him not serve jail time for all the murders he did.”

The frat boys continued demeaning the metal armed man. Bucky tried not to mind them. He didn’t want to cause a scene no matter how much he hurt. He tried to let their words enter through one ear and leave through the other without being processed. He tried and tried and tried, but he failed.

Every word he heard sent another dagger through his heart. He knew he wasn’t among the favourites of many, but he didn’t know that’s what the people truly thought of him. He tried to have a positive outlook on everything, but it was hard when the others didn’t want to connect with anything relatively positive.

Steve grimaced, losing his patience every passing second with every passing word through their mouths. If only they’d known. The inner workings or mission details of the Avengers were kept strictly private for obvious reasons. If they weren’t, the civilians would know that Bucky’s recklessness in his missions surpassed his own by great measure. And Steve was known for being reckless.

Ever since being an Avenger, Bucky did whatever he could just because he could. He’d truly and actually turned into Steve who would place their lives on the line on not one but multiple occasions if that meant he could help others. Didn’t matter what his odds were. If there was anyone who needed any sort of help, Bucky would always be there. That was one thing which HYDRA couldn’t change about him.

Yes, Bucky had made peace with his past but he couldn’t shake the want to repent. He couldn’t change what he did, so he always strived to be better than what he was. If risking his own life on missions so that his friends wouldn’t have to meant that, then that was it for Bucky.

He truly tried to and did save the world like his teammates, just without receiving as much appreciation. But he didn’t need that. He wanted to do the good to sate his own want to help anyway he could. He didn’t need to be recognised for that. But that didn’t mean he wanted to hear people to only talk about all the bad he did, that too when he wasn’t in control of himself.

“Did you see him and Captain America last night? Don’t know why he still dots over his friend. What a fool! He’s only just wasting his time behind that crack head.”

And all Bucky saw was red. Not because they threw insults at him, but because they disrespected Steve. Nobody, and he repeated, nobody, could or would talk shit about his boyfriend in his presence. The names thrown at him hurt, but those thrown at Steve pissed him off. Because it was Steve.

His Stevie.

If there was anyone who could talk like that about Steve, it was Bucky and only Bucky. Natasha, Sam and the others could be made exceptions though, but not these strangers. Nobody could take that right from him.

Steve was in no better condition. Bucky was his and nobody could dictate how he should or shouldn’t take care of or spend time him. Bucky was his to do with as pleased. He would’ve loved to kick their asses had it not been for Bucky’s decision.

Stopping midstep, Bucky took off his baseball cap and turned around on his heel. The boy who had been talking about him earlier was in the process of hurling another crude comment his way when suddenly stopped. Seeing the Winter Soldier in the flesh in front of he, he paled. Where he’d been talking non-stop, he started stuttering.

The fear for his life flashed in the boy’s eyes. His eyes darted to Bucky’s metal arm and he audibly gulped, his adam’s apple moving prominently. With his resting bitch face, Bucky started moving towards the boy with slow but purposeful steps.

“Winter Soldier, sir, it isn’t what it sounded like-”

He paused when Bucky crouched in front of him. Thinking that Bucky’s lift him by his legs and throw him into the wall, he braced himself for the impact. None came.

Bucky stood back up, a discarded chocolate wrapper in his hand. He marched to the dustbin a couple steps away and threw the wrapper into it. Making his way back to Steve, he made a point to look at the boy for a brief second as he said, “You should put the trash where it belongs.”

Steve stood there jaw slacked. Bucky had always been more calm minded of the two, but he hadn’t expected this. Pride bubbled inside his chest for putting the scum in his place without making a scene, very unlike to what Steve would have done.

They both marched off wordlessly together. Upon turning on the next corner, Steve grabbed his hand and ushered him into the first alleyway in sight. He pushed Bucky against the brick wall and smashed his lips against his in a furious kiss. One hand went behind his head and the other around his waist.

Bucky’s hands found themselves gripping Steve’s shirt as he pulled him even closer. Their tongues clashed as their lips danced with delicacy. Breaths mingled as their hearts jingled. The super soldiers could go on forever, but Steve pulled back and tenderly cupped his boyfriend’s cheeks.

“Buck, I am so proud of you.” Bucky could see the sincerity behind Steve’s eyes. The glimmering blue orbs staring into his own told him whatever wasn’t said aloud.

Bucky tightened his hold around Steve’s waist, “Doll, you are the most dumbass person I know, but you are my dumbass.” And Steve had to give Bucky another kiss just for that.

~~~

They were in Bucky’s room that afternoon. Bucky was cuddled upto Steve on his bed, his back resting against Steve’s hard chest. Steve’s chin was positioned in the nape of Bucky’s neck, his eyes overlooking the articles Bucky strolled through on his phone.

Apparently, somebody had captured the events of their morning with the frat boys and uploaded the video online. The internet had burst open in support of Bucky. His was on handling things was admired and long posts were written in his appreciation. Usually they wouldn’t check articles about them online, but Natasha had shown them the link.

“Those were just some scumbags we had to encounter.” Steve kissed the back of Bucky’s ear, “Everybody loves you, Buck.”

Opening the internet and reading pieces and commentaries on various blogs about himself, Bucky discovered that him and his efforts to be a better man was recognised by a good chunk of the world. They pitied his bad luck but praised his efforts. It felt good to know that.

Not everyone would always be on the same page. And that was okay. That’s what made everyone human. Everyone had different brains and mindsets and opinions. Bucky didn’t want to encourage spreading hate, but he couldn’t do much except deal with the uncivilised in a civilised way. It was just about the fact whose views mattered the most.

“None more than you though.” Bucky said, turning his head back and softly pecking Steve’s lips.

“Never more than me.” Steve grinned fondly, fastening his arms around Bucky’s waist.

Bucky knew he’d always have Steve by his side, supporting him in all the rights no matter who said what. Had the world worked on just hearing to what others had to say, the earth would’ve still been flat and Newton would’ve still been a madman. But none were either.

Just like one would ever be able to overpower him, his actions or his thoughts more than himself, he know none would ever love him more than Steve except for one.

Bucky himself.

You could truly ever love somebody else when you truly knew how to love yourself, because otherwise you'd be disrespecting their choise of loving you. There is no love if you disrespect the other. Just like everything begins at home, love beings with our own self. Bucky loved Steve to no measure, and so was the other way around. And somewhere between loving Steve, Bucky also knew how to love himself along the way.

~~~

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ali-kitkat · 5 years

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Fear Toxin

Marinette knew that Scarecrow’s fear toxin was dangerous. She’d been dating Damian long enough to figure that out herself. She’d been in Gotham half as long to know the rouges weren’t to be trifled with, unfortunately her class hadn’t felt the same way.

The class trip was supposed to be a nice summer break after Papillion’s defeat. Gabriel Agreste and Nathalie Sancoeur had been revealed as terrorists and arrested. Meanwhile Adrien Agreste had revealed himself as Chat Noir as a way to save face, to show that he hadn’t aided and abetted a criminal and that he wasn’t like his father.

He had immediately shot himself in the foot, figuratively speaking. After he revealed himself, he went to Ladybug to profess his love and hadn’t accepted the stern no as an answer. When she confessed that she was in a relationship, he lost all composure of cool and started to rant and rave about how she was his and only his.

There had been a paparazzi nearby and filmed his meltdown, the video had gone viral and ruined his image. He eventually went out of his way to stalk Marinette after forcing Plagg into giving him her secret identity. She had filed a police report and gotten a restraining order against him but that hadn’t stopped him not until she had taken the ring and called the police again. He was in jail for stalking and she still had nightmares about him.

Back to the class antagonizing the villain, they hadn’t seemed to realize that Gotham’s Rouges weren’t anything like akuma victims. When they had realized it had already been too late and Marinette, who was at the front of the class, was gassed with a different strain of the toxin, Essence de Trauma he called it. This strain was enough to recreate your most traumatic memory and Marinette knew she had enough memories of Adrien to last a lifetime.

Marinette was on the phone with Damian discussing the situation before he appeared. She dropped her phone.

“You know you’re always going to be mine.”

She ran, she knows she shouldn’t have but Adrien terrified her regardless whether he was a hallucination or not. She’d sprinted until she hit a dead end before realizing that whenever she paused during her run Adrien was always there. The twists and turns she took did nothing to put distance between them. He was always at her side.

“You know you can’t get away from me milady. I’m always going to be wherever you are.”

She swung at him, hoping that a punch would distract him long enough to get away. Ineffective, he just danced out of reach into her blind spot. Swearing, she turned to see him, but he wasn’t anywhere. Suddenly she felt arms around her waist.

“Aw. Didn’t know you missed me that much bugaboo. You should know better than to attack me like that. It was ineffective before you took the ring. What makes you think it’s going to work this time?”

Flailing around, she ripped herself out of the arms holding onto to her. They were strong and didn’t let go easily. Swinging around to face the person holding onto her, she saw Adrien. Lunging she threw herself at him, they fell to the ground. She landed on something blunt and it knocked the air out of her lungs. Adrien was wheezing as well. Scrambling back onto her feet she took advantage of the fact that he had paused to catch his breath. She brought her foot down on his back, knocking him back onto the ground and the air out of his lungs again. Stretching her leg back, this time trained to kick him in the face. Her attempt failed as he caught her leg still settled on the ground and pulled out from beneath her. She fell and hit the ground, hard. He settled over her, his arms by her sides.

“Now that isn’t very nice princess, I’ll have to teach you some manners.”

She thrashed around, violently trying to escape the arms that had her caged on the ground under him. It was futile she realized. She was tired from running and attacking him wiped her out, as well as being knocked on the ground twice. She felt the sharp pain in her neck before the world went dark.

*~*~*~*

Damian lived with his father long enough to know that Scarecrow was dangerous, and his fear toxin was enough to make even the strongest of his family weak. He didn’t want his angel anywhere near Gotham when Scarecrow was free. Her superhero partner was deranged enough to stalk her while she was a civilian and the emotional scars from that hadn’t healed. Scarecrow’s toxin could do a lot of damage to her barely healed psychosis.

He knew that her class wasn’t exactly the brightest, they typically ran to akuma attacks instead of away, and that Mari tended to follow to keep them out of harm’s way. So, when he heard that Scarecrow broke out, he was on high alert and on the phone with Mari to keep tabs on her. He heard Scarecrow explain which strain of the toxin he was using, and the phone hit the ground before he heard the footfalls heading away from it.

He rushed out of the manor, not bothering to put on the Robin suit, and just grabbing an antidote for the fear toxin. He had found where she was quickly enough, the dead end of an alleyway. She was throwing a punch at thin air and he knew he had to go about the situation with caution.

Grabbing her by the waist he tried to whisper words of reassurance to her, but that failed when she flailed so violently and chaotically that he was practically forced to open his arms to let her go. She swung around and lunged at him, they both landed on the ground out of breath. The process of catching his breath didn’t go well, as Marinette stomped on his back, knocking him back onto the ground and the air out of his lungs, again. He saw her leg stretch to kick him again, though this time in the ribs and he pulled her other leg out from underneath her. She landed on her back on the ground as he boxed her in, not wanting her to run away or attack him again. He administered the antidote after she had tired herself out from the thrashing. He could tell that as soon as the antidote had taken effect that she passed out. He picked her up and carried her back to the manor.

It had been hours since she passed out and she still had yet to wake. She was wrapped up in various blankets asleep in his bed. He wouldn’t leave her, not after the toxin had made her that terrified that she had attacked whatever she had seen. He suspected that she had seen Adrien. Essence de Trauma was a terrible strain of the fear toxin, the tamer version of the trauma toxin. He was grateful that it wasn’t the stronger version, that one left people as husks and even the Scarecrow himself wasn’t fond it.

Not leaving her side meant that Alfred tended his wounds in his bedroom. They weren’t terrible, a little back pain and bruising was all he was experiencing. He loved his girlfriend. The emotional pain of having Marinette look at him like he was her worst nightmare was the most painful thing he experienced overall.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when she started to shift. She bolted upright and started to glance around the room and when her eyes settled on him, she let out a relieved sigh.

“Dames?” She sniffled as she wrapped the blankets tighter around herself. “Can you hold me?”

He climbed on the bed beside her, pulling her into his arms. “I’m here angel.”

She rested her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, it wasn’t erratic nor was it calm; no, it was a mix somewhere in-between. She tightened her grip on him, not realizing that he winced. She didn’t want to let go lest Adrien show up and torment her once again.

“Angel, I know you’re scared but I’m going to need you to loosen your grip just a little. Your kick to my back left a bit of a bruise.”

“What?” She questioned frantically, pulling away.

He swore under his breath, that wasn’t how he was going to tell her that she attacked him. She was going to be horrified that she injured him. She looked up at him fear and worry in her eyes.

“Love, it wasn’t your fault, you were under the effects of the toxin. You didn’t know- “

“Damian what did I do?” She cut him off, glaring at him. He’d think she was angry from the way she sounded, but the tears building up said otherwise.

“I don’t hold any of it against you love. When you dropped your phone, I tracked you down. I’m guessing the toxin made you see Adrien because you were attacking air before I grabbed you. Thinking back on it I probably shouldn’t have, but I didn’t want you to run off and get hurt.” He spoke softly. “When you wrenched yourself from my arms you tackled me to the ground and got right back up. While I was catching my breath, you brought your foot down on my back. Remember I don’t hold anything against you.”

“How can you not? I thought you were Adrien. I attacked you!”

“While you were experiencing the effects of fear toxin! It certainly doesn’t count. Especially since the strain he dosed you with was made to make you relive your most traumatic moment.” He defended; he wasn’t going to allow her to put herself down. Not after Adrien.

“You are not at fault; I could’ve handled the situation better. I could have gotten father or one of the others to get you the antidote, but I didn’t. You were terrified and lashing out, protecting yourself and you did a damn good job of it too.”

Damian pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead which resulted in her sinking down into his chest.

“By the way you kick like a mule.” He added, trying to lift the mood. She let a muffled laugh and he smiled down at her. “Are you feeling better?”

“Loads better. Thank you, Dames. The only thing that’s keeping me sane right now is you.” She responded curling further into his side as she started yawning. He pressed another kiss to her forehead and fell asleep holding her as close as possible to him.

It had barely been a half hour that they’d been asleep when Jason busted through the door without knocking. Damian and Mari both bolted upright glaring angrily at him, though Mari’s expression carried a little more fear in it than it usually did. Their expressions softened when they saw how worried he looked.

“Todd is there a reason you’ve busted into my room when you know Marinette here is still riding the effects of the toxin?” Damian started lividly. Jason waved his hands in a calm down manner as if that did anything to tame either one of the young adults on the bed.

“We just received word that Adrien Agreste broke out of jail baby bird. I felt you both needed to hear about it as soon as possible. He’s headed here.” Jason announced.

*~*~*~*

This is just one of those ideas that hit me at three in the morning that I decided to write. I’m leaving it as a oneshot because this is all that I came up with, but if anyone wants to continue it they can.

tagging: @fangs4damemories @shizukiryuu @disorganizedkitten @tv-zombie-blog

#maribat #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #maridami #daminette #oneshot #ficlet #ali-kitkat's writing #my writing

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boneswriteswords · 4 years

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I Like The Way You Move - Leonardo

A/N: This was something that started as a self-insert Mikey fuck but turned into a dom-ish Leo moment and I’m not sorry. (No that’s a lie, I am sorry that I never got my self-insert Mikey fuck)

Enjoy. Or not. IDC man, you control whether you read it or not.

Its smut.

Pairing: Leonardo x reader

Word: ~3100

You hitch your backpack so its sturdier on your shoulder as you approach the building your studio was renting space in, sending a quick text to Leo that you made it safe.

Not that you needed to. You knew he was watching you. Ever since you and him tipped into the 'we aren't together but we actually kind of are because I don't have eyes for anyone but you but neither of us have made an actual move yet because this is kind of like foreplay and its exciting' territory, you could feel his eyes on you everywhere you went. At home. At the gym. At your favorite shops. At the park. At work.

Everywhere.

And he was there as you weaved in and out of the people in the city as they rushed to get wherever they were going, watching as you slipped the key into the lock and went inside. Watching as you entered the fifth story room and waited for the other dancers to arrive.

He was always watching.

Guarding. Protecting. Treasuring.

You have never felt more safe in your life.

Even the rowdy construction men who hooted and whistled like the pigs they are whenever you passed by the construction zones down the block from the studio didn't register as a threat to you anymore, despite being triple your size and aggressive.

Leo was bigger. Leo was stronger. Leo would never let them harm you.

You sighed dreamily, feeling the stirrings of arousal pool low in your abdomen as you thought about him.

How he'd grip you tight against him to pull you from those who would try and take you from him. How his body would shield yours as he tore the hands off anyone who'd even think to touch you without permission. How he'd carry you away and check you over thoroughly to make sure you were unharmed....

The door opened, ripping you from your daydream, and Mila walked in, smiling at you and tossing her bag near yours. You made polite conversation until the rest of the students and Mr. Parker arrived, doing everything you can to try to ignore the wetness in your panties.

"Y/N," Mr. Parker calls once class is finished, motioning you over in the universally recognized signal for 'I need to speak to you.' You pull your baby blue sweater on - something you deliberately picked because you knew Leo would feel some type of way about seeing you in it - over your bodysuit and make your way over to him, making sure you are directly in front of the window.

"Yes?" you ask, tilting your head to side.

"I just wanted to congratulate you again on all your hard work," he smiled, green eyes squinting, "You are one of the most talented dancers I have ever taught and you deserve the role of Ella."

You beam under the praise, "Thank you sir. It means a lot."

"But," he exclaimed abruptly, "make sure you practice! You may be the perfect dancer but Ella is a powerful woman. Fierce! Confident! Sensual! She is more than just perfect landings and pirouettes! Her soul is one with her body!"

You promise, unable to keep the grin from your face. You had been cast as the lead character - Ella - in an new play created by a well-known playwright and it felt like all your hard work over the last few years was finally getting you some where as a professional dancer.

Mr. Parker rolls his eyes fondly as he ushered you out, "Bright and early tomorrow Y/N."

And you do come in bright and early. So early in fact, that it isn't even bright out and Leonardo hadn't even finished his patrol before you had left your apartment and there is no one at the studio and there wouldn't be for hours.

Which he wasn't too happy about but you couldn't be bothered to care when his message suggested your 'punishment' would not necessarily be something you wouldn't like. He kept it as vague as he possible could but the undertone of arousal and promises had you aching for the rest of the day.

Still, despite the wetness between your legs, you eventually manage to channel Ella in all her sensual glory. You can feel her energy, her passion, her elegance streamline into your very veins as you go through the routines. She envelopes you, guiding you until you are no longer alone in your body and you can feel her as deeply as you can feel yourself. There is a buzzing under your skin where she has settled and you feel warm all over.

You end the final routine with your knees splayed and head tossed back, forming an arc with your spine, gaze resting on a blank bit of ceiling as you try to regulate your breathing back to normal. There is sweat dripping down your body, sticking your bodysuit even closer to your skin.

So far gone into your head space as you were, you almost didn't realize that you were being applauded.

But when you did, you jumped, terrified. No one was supposed to be in the studio aside from you. You snap your head around, scrambling into a less vulnerable position off the hardwood floor, eyes zeroing on the intruder.

Leo's eyes are dangerously dark as he leans against the wall by the door, strong arms folded over his hard chest. His makeshift armor was gone but his weapons were placed on one of the chairs in the corner, suggesting he had been watching for a while.

"Leo!?" you question, voice no more than a whisper. He smirks, straightening up and making his way over to you until he was standing in front of you, blue eyes looking into yours.

The Ella inside of you nudges to the front of your brain, whispering 'Get closer.'

"What-what are you doing here?" you ask, leaning in to him a bit before you overthought it.

"I saw you through the window," he purred, "I wanted a closer look."

"O-oh."

He tilted his head down and for a brief moment you thought he was finally going to make the move. The move that will transform the current state of your relationship with him into the one that you both wanted.

"Keep going, lovely. I want to see it again," he murmurs, the faintest touch of his lips on yours as he does and your breath stutters, a whine bubbling and dying in your throat. You loved being called soft, feminine nicknames - it made you feel womanly and perfect and beautiful - and the timber of his voice molding around the world did wonderful things for you. His dark eyes roam over your face, licking his lips, before stepping back and taking his place by the back wall.

You turn back to the giant mirror, taking in your wanton appearance, the very visceral, physical effect he has on you obvious, and take a few deep breaths before calling Ella back to the forefront.

You start the routine over from the beginning, determined to give Leo a show. You ease into it like you would if you were alone. You were used to him watching you and the proximity of where he was didn't change how you felt about it. Besides, Ella was powerful and self-assured. She knew what she wanted and she takes it without hesitation.

With her at the helm, you felt like, maybe, you could too.

Landing on the bar after a high jump that has your thighs burning, you break the silence. "I like when you call me lovely. And sweetheart. And a good girl." You can see him in the reflection in the giant mirror, watching you shamelessly, and your body hums in pleasure.

His eyes narrow, smirk widening, "Do you now?"

"I do," you choke out, an admission, but suddenly Ella is gone and its just you now. The confidence is gone but its too late to take it back. Leo is on his feet and crowding you again, a hair's breath away and smelling way too good for it to be natural. He smells like man and strength and slowly dissolving restraint and you want to bury yourself in him.

"You like when I call you a good girl," he repeats calmly, eyeing the way your body is perched on the bar and putting his hands on your hips, "Then I guess you wouldn't mind is I called you 'my good girl' hmm? You want to be my good girl, lovely?"

A whimper rips from your lips before you can stop it and you nod desperately, no longer caring about anything aside from his hands on your body. He runs them over your legs before skirting back upwards and over your nipples through the bodysuit. Electricity fires through you at the touch, pushing back into his hands as he flits them over again.

"You like it when I touch you sweetheart?" he coos, catching you as you buckle, keeping you from collapsing onto the floor.

"Yes," you whine as he hoists you up like you weight nothing. With his mutant strength, you probably don't and the possibilities that the image of him holding you up invokes sends a thrill down your spine. He hums darkly, setting you on the ground, moving your hands to his shoulder to brace yourself so he could wiggle the bottom half of your bodysuit and leggings down.

A flash of insecurity floods over you as he tosses your clothes off to the side and grips you so your body is flush against his, fingers dancing along the edges of your soaked panties. Leo's face is set in stone, stoic aside from the darkness flashing in his eyes, and you worry that your body isn't what he wants. Maybe he doesn't like what he sees?

"I always new you were pretty, lovely," he grumbles, his fingers flexing and pulling at your body, encouraging you to press into him and grind into him. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing into your mound and you try not to buck into it. "But this - you naked and needy and dripping - is so much prettier than I was ready for."

"I don't- I-I" you gasp as his hand trails down your back and grips your butt, spreading your cheeks wide and kneading the flesh.

"I'm a lucky turtle," he growls, voice somehow deeper and darker than before, "I see the way people look at you, princess. I see the way they move closer to you to get a better look or catch a whiff of your perfume. I see them watch you as you walk by, saying crude things about your body, your mouth. I see them want you. But they can't have you, can they?"

It takes you a minute to realize he wasn't asking a rhetorical question. "N-no Leo."

He hums approvingly, "And why is that honey?"

"B-because I'm your good girl?"

"That's right lovely. You are MY good girl. And you wouldn't look at any of them twice. Not when you have me at your beck and call. Not when you know I'll come running to you."

The impromptu confession of his devotion sent your skin buzzing and you could feel yourself calming down, the edge of desperation softening into a dull throb. This was more than sex. This was more than a game. This was a real connection bleeding into a different form of intimacy. He found you desirable but it ran deeper than lust.

A low rumbling churr vibrates under Leo's plastron once he focuses on your lace panties - dark blue and soaked even darker. Leo's large hand cups your face and you nuzzle into the comfort of it. The turtle's fingers are strong and thick as he pulls you to him so his lips could meet yours. His tongue wastes no time in forcing its way into your mouth, leaving you breathless as desire coursed through you. It was everything you had imagined but nothing at all at the same time.

"Princess," he murmurs against your mouth, "so sweet."

The praise envelops you like an aphrodisiac. Leo's fingers trace the edge of the lace before moving down, taking two fingers and swiping across your soaked entrance over the soaked fabric. Little sparks danced across your clit at the touch and you tried to grind down into his hand, whimpering when he pulled his hand away.

"So wet baby," he groaned, kissing you again hungrily, "Want me to touch you? Stroke your pretty little clit and stretch you nice and wide for me?

You nod, almost mad in your lust, bucking into his hand, "Please Leo. Want you. Want you so much. Don't make me wait." You are rewarded with another bruising kiss.

He removes one of his hands from your body to untie his pants and drop them onto the floor. His cock is huge, bigger than anyone you'd ever seen before, and dark with blood. You always pictured him to be proportional to the rest of his body but the reality surpassed all your fantasies thus far. He was going to be so big inside you -the stretch...

"I've thought about this princess," Leo murmurs, dark blue eyes fixed on your face again as he kicks his pants away from him and moving closer again. You could feel his cock against your belly, smearing precum on your skin. "Thought about how you'd look. How you'd feel. Hot and tight and mine. How'd you taste. Have you thought about me? Have you thought about me when you touch yourself at night? When you stick your pretty little fingers in your pretty little pussy?"

Shaking, you grip onto his arms to steady yourself and nod, "Yes, Leo." His fingers edge underneath the panties and slid them off you and you launch yourself forward into his arms, burying your face into his neck and clinging to him. You spread your legs, dripping as he teases your clit with his finger before tentatively testing the give of your entrance.

A load groan erupts from his mouth when it slips right in to the first knuckle and you clench around him, trying to pull it in further.

"Oh my lovely girl," he sighs, claiming your mouth in another kiss as you whimper and buck in his grip. "So good for me. All wet and wanting. I'm going to stretch you out nice and good."

"Please," you whisper, head tilted back as he moves down your neck, biting and nibbling licking as his finger slides deeper inside of you. He drags you right to the edge of an orgasm before pulling his finger free, grinning at the long winded whine it drew from you.

"Uh uh my good girl," he shushed, "You will come on my cock or not at all. Do you understand? Do you want to keep being my good girl?"

"I want to be your good girl, Leo please," you whine, canting forward to kiss him again. You could feel yourself being lifted, large green hands guiding your legs to wrap your legs around his waist so he is the only thing holding you up. The head of his cock nudged against your entrance as he hovers you above it and you try to cant down onto it, needy and wanting.

He pulls away from your mouth, panting, "Tell me I can."

Arousal made you slow and stupid so it took longer than it should have for you to understand what he meant. When you did, you trembled and nodded, pleas falling from your lips like a mantra.

Leo smirks, adjusting you in his grip before lowering you down, pushing the bulbous head of his cock into you. You fall against him again, licking and kissing his neck and shoulders as he lowered you down slowly, his cock sliding in inch by inch until you were stuffed full.

The stretch was so good. You feel so good.

Leo swears under his breath, nothing more than a growling whisper of words as you clench around him. He can feel you expanding around him, convulsing as you adjust to his size and grinding down to gain desperately sought friction.

Lifting you up, he adjusts his stance a bit for better leverage before gripping your waist hard and slamming you back down on him, praising you as he does. He's panting, breath ghosting over your slick skin as he lifts you up and down, impaling you over and over again like a rag doll. His lovely little fuck toy.

There are actual tears in your eyes from how wonderful it feels to finally be joined with him. Months of teasing and playing and flirting culminating into this desperate, passionate act of mutual adoration. You had waited so long for him.

"Oh baby girl. I'll never make you wait again." Had you said that out loud? As much as you wanted to be embarrassed, you couldn't be - not with the way he was thrusting inside you, hitting your special spot, and kissing your face and mouth.

"Feels - feels," you moan, breath hitching as sweat drips down your face and back.

"How does it feel lovely? Tell me."

"Feels so - so good. Leo. Leo! Leoleoleo!" You cry as you cum, writhing against Leo's plastron as he fucks you through it, hand slipping down to toy with your oversensitive clit. White lights dance behind your vision and you arch into the touch at the pain.

And oh, he likes that.

"Oh," Leo growls, sparks of fire dancing behind his eyes, "I'm going to enjoy you."

You preen, limp in his arms, and his pace builds until hes slamming into you brutally. When he cums, its deep inside you, burying his load and filling you up. A grunt forces his way out of him and you squeeze as much as you can around him, fucking him through it like he did for you.

You were always big on reciprocity.

You slump together onto the floor in a tangle of sweaty and sore body parts, enjoying the high as it ebbs between you both. He gently pulls out of you and you whimper at the loss and the feel of his seed trickling out of you.

Minutes tick by in silence before you open your eyes and stare into his. He's watching you intently, trying to gauge your reactions. He wants to know how you feel, how you are taking this new change in dynamic, if its something you want long term now that the game is over. He wants to know if you are his.

You smile, keeping your expression soft as you reach out for him again.

A beat and his smile presses against yours.

~~~~

End

~~~~

#tmnt imagine #leonardo #leonardo imagine #tmnt #tmnt 2 #My writing #teenage mutant ninja turtles #lemon

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7-wonders · 5 years

Text

Some Kind of Drug

Summary: Michael deals with his rejection in a much different way than most other people.

Word Count: 2548

A/N: Welcome back to Mad Love, friends! Sorry it’s taken so long, but life happens. Hopefully I’ll be able to post this now. As always, feedback is very much appreciated, and if you enjoyed I would love if you would like, comment and reblog. Shoot me an ask about this, my other works, or just anything!

(p.s....cw for blood ritual)

Read Mad Love (part one) HERE | Read Totally F***ed (part two) HERE | Read The Isle of Flightless Birds (part three) HERE | Read A Hard Day’s Night (part four) HERE | Read Pour One Out (part five) HERE | Read Where Angels Fear to Tread (part six) HERE | Read Naked & Afraid (part seven) HERE | Read Ironically Alive (part eight) HERE | Read Blame It On My Youth (part nine) HERE | Read Everything All At Once (part ten) HERE | Read Try (Just a Little Bit Harder) (part eleven) HERE

Flickering candles cast long shadows on the walls of the chamber as Michael moves around, making sure that everything’s in the exact position he needs it to be in order to conduct his ritual. Communicating with his father in this way is not new to him, but it is something that he’s neglected since you came into his life. Now, however, Michael’s done playing your games. He’s been patient with you, allowing you to determine the speed of the relationship. Sooner or later, he figured, you would stop fighting what your soul knows to be true and give into him. Obviously, he had vastly underestimated you.

He hardly flinches as he makes deep cuts down the length of his arms, watching with silent concentration as the thick blood quickly starts to pool on the ground beneath him. Falling to his knees, he starts to use the blood to paint an upside-down pentagram. The movements are almost robotic-like now, becoming second nature after so many years. The Latin that Michael’s chanting falls off of his lips with ease, the words echoing through the empty air.

“May you rise from the void, Father,” Michael says, switching to plain English as he begins to complete the summoning. “May your darkness guide me, power in Satan to overcome my weaknesses. Power in your name, strong within.”

A humming, high-pitched and ceaseless, sounds in Michael’s ears as his vision dances with spots. Every single sense is being assaulted as his demonic, Satanic nature takes the wheel. The candles begin to roar with each second that passes, the fervor building in Michael’s veins as he waits with bated breath for Satan to arrive. The bloody pentagram bubbles underneath him as the height of the flames reaches to the ceiling, unchanged by the sudden wind that whips through the room. When the wind stops just as unexpectedly as it started, the air growing stiflingly still, Michael looks up with pitch black eyes.

“Ave Satanas.”

To the normal human eye, nothing is in the chamber with Michael. To the son of Satan, however, his father stands just behind him, a ghost-like touch on his shoulder as he whispers into the ear of his son, the same ear that’s burned with the Mark of the Beast. The humming starts up again, but to Michael it registers as words.

“Father,” he calls, “I request your guidance! You’ve...tortured me with these images, visions of a future that I will have.”

He’s been plagued with these visions for months now, long before Ms. Mead stuck that needle into your neck. They often come to Michael in the form of dreams, but he has been known to collapse to the floor as he’s taken over by a premonition. They’re always vivid, and they’re always of you and Michael. Michael, holding you as a husband should hold his wife.

Kissing you.

Making love to you.

In his visions, you rule alongside him. The new world has been ushered in, with Michael as its king and you as its queen. You love each other unconditionally, just as it should be. You belong to him, and he belongs to you.

(Usually, he’s holding onto at least one curly-haired blonde cherub, and you’re almost always pregnant with another. That desperate need for a family, however, can wait. First, he needs to win over your mind.)

“Her will is strong, stronger than anyone I’ve ever known. Our souls were created for one another, yet she continues to deny what is inevitable. The bonding ritual from the night of our wedding was a failure, and she continues to spurn any of my advances. I’m lost, Father. How am I supposed to complete your plans if I do not wholly have the one person who is supposed to be at my side during all of this?”

“Perhaps something more...permanent?” Satan’s voice sounds preternaturally deep in Michael’s ear, and he has to hide a shiver.

“I promised (Y/N) that I wouldn’t use magic on her without her permission.”

“And you won’t.” Michael’s arm is raised by an invisible force, palm facing upwards as his hand is outstretched. An apple, bright red and almost perfectly shaped, appears in his grip.

“I don’t understand what this will help with.”

Satan remains silent, allowing a vision to play out in front of Michael’s eyes as a response. Michael watches as you appear in front of him, silently asking for the apple with a familiar tilt of your head. He hands it to you, your shimmering mirage-like form holding it as if you’re actually there. You take a large bite out of the apple, Michael nearly moaning as he watches the juice dribble past your full lips and down your chin in a near-erotic scene.

There’s no sound coming from you as you gasp, the apple landing heavily on the ground. Your expression changes, and you blink rapidly, as if trying to see through a thick fog. When your eyes meet Michael’s, you smile softly. Michael’s frozen, enraptured as you approach him and sit in his lap, not at all bothered by his lack of clothes. Your arms loop around his neck, and Michael can almost feel the heat of your breath as you begin to lean in. Right as your lips are about to connect with his, you disappear as suddenly as you appeared.

“So it’s--” Michael’s chest is heaving, and he has to remind himself to breathe.

“Nothing that will harm her. One bite of this apple and she will be yours, my son. Body, mind, and soul.”

Michael could almost just take the apple and run, but something is stopping him. “That’s still using magic on her, whether or not it’s mine.”

“I bring a gift for you, and this is how you repay me? With ignorant questions and flippant reactions?”

“No Father, I’m extremely grateful.”

“Then take the gift. If anything, do not think of this as magic. Think of it--”

The dream (or maybe a nightmare) is the kind that’s forgotten as soon as you shoot up in bed with a gasp. You know that it was extremely vivid, your heart still pounding as you grab your phone to turn your alarm off, but you can’t remember the specifics. Lots of candles and Michael are the only things you’re sure were a part of your dream, but those could be used in any setting. Michael knocking over a candle and setting the house on fire? Celebrating Michael’s birthday? Lighting fireworks with Michael?

You shake your head, hoping maybe that will clear the fuzzy feeling in your brain like it clears an Etch-a-Sketch. You’re disoriented, like you slept for twenty hours instead of the eight or so that you normally do. Intense dreams tend to do that to you, so you’re careful with yourself as you crawl out of bed and head for the shower.

Even after you’ve washed the remnants of a restless sleep off of you, you still feel...off. You’re not sure if it’s related to the dream that you can’t remember, but you just feel weird today, like the world’s just slightly tilted on its axis and you’re the only one who notices it. Staring at your face in the steamed-over mirror as you comb through your hair, you frown slightly at yourself.

“Get it together, (Y/N),” you mutter to your reflection, watching as she says the words back to you at the same time. Swiping a towel over the mirror to clear it up, you shoot a couple of half-hearted finger guns at yourself before deciding that you need to stop procrastinating before you’re late.

Michael, surprisingly, is leaning against the counter when you make your way into the kitchen. Normally he’s already in his office by this time, so to see him eating a bagel while scrolling through his phone is jarring.

“Um, good morning?” you say, thrown off by this change in his ever-strict schedule. He must not have heard you come in, because he jumps when you greet him.

“(Y/N)!” He straightens up, trying to act like you didn’t just scare him. “You really are getting better at sneaking up on me.”

“Damn, and I wasn’t even trying.” You jokingly shoulder check him as you pass by, hearing him snicker under his breath.

“Do you nanny the two girls today?”

“No, I have to meet with my advisor on campus.”

“I thought class didn’t start for another couple of weeks?”

“It doesn’t, and please don’t remind me,” you groan, looking forlornly into the fridge. “This summer went by way too fast, I feel like I didn’t even get to do anything!”

“You would have been able to enjoy your summer if you had heeded my advice and not taken a job,” Michael points out, falling silent when you shoot him a withering glance.

“You may be the Antichrist, but I’ll still kick your ass if given the chance.” There’s nothing that appeals to you in the fridge, so you begrudgingly shut the door and look around for something that you can eat quick before running off to campus. “What are you up to today? Meeting with Putin?”

“The ghost of Josef Stalin, actually.” Michael smiles when you laugh loudly.

“Ah, well, be sure to break the bad news of the fall of Communism gently.”

“I’ll try, but my Russian’s pretty basic, at best.”

Nodding as if you understand the downfalls of only being passing in the Russian language, your eyes fall on the fruit bowl sitting on the counter. Although all of the fruit looks pretty appetizing, the particular apple sitting at the top is practically calling your name. It’s shiny and bright red, and looks as if it was just picked out of a tree. The feeling that something’s off returns with a full force, making you pause right as you’re about to grab the apple. Figuring that you’re just hungry, you shake it off and take the fruit from the bowl.

Running it under some water, you look at Michael with a questioning glance when you feel him staring at you. “Do you have a problem with me eating this apple?”

“No, sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” he says quickly. “Just lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

“O...kay?” He still watches you as you turn the water off, shaking the apple dry and grabbing a towel to wipe your hands. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, absolutely. Why?”

“You just seem off today. Then again, maybe it’s the moon or something, because I’ve felt weird all morning, too.”

“You have?”

“Yeah, I had a really vivid dream last night, and I still haven’t been able to get over it.”

“Hmm, what was it about?” Michael’s mind is fighting a battle with his nature as he anxiously watches you toss the apple in the air before setting it down on the counter to grab a glass of water.

“That’s the thing, I don’t remember. All I remember is that it involved you and some candles.” Michael’s pretty sure his heart stops, automatically knowing that you somehow inadvertently had a front-row seat to the ritual with his father. “I don’t know, maybe it involved you setting the house on fire?”

“Why would I ever set the house on fire?”

“Hey, I never said you did it on purpose! You could’ve dropped a candle? Can’t you light things on fire with your magic? Maybe you just got too excited.”

“Okay, you’re making me nervous talking about the different ways I could burn the house down.” He’s nervous for a few reasons right now, but you don’t need to know that.

“And here I thought you couldn’t get nervous,” you tease.

For Michael, the next two seconds happen slow enough to make it feel like two minutes. He watches as you raise the apple to your mouth, heart jumping in his chest with a mix of glee and horror. Finally, it’s happening. He should be happy about this; he is happy about this, but he can’t deny how he guilty he feels. Still, he attempts to argue with himself, it’s not like you’re forcing her to love you. You’re just helping her to see what her soul knows.

But I’m making her feel that before she’s ready to acknowledge it, he fires back.

She’s had months now to acknowledge it! It’s time to speed things along.

The time that Michael spends debating with himself, he finds, is precious time lost. Instead of coming to a decision, you make the decision for him by biting into the apple. He stifles a gasp, feigning a cough instead as he waits for the inevitable to occur. The inevitable, however, occurs much slower than he was led to believe. One, two, and three bites are taken before Michael remembers how to speak.

“(Y/N)?” he asks cautiously.

“Yeah?” He’ll forgive the fact that you talked with food in your mouth this time, since there are bigger worries at hand.

“Are you...feeling alright?” You eyes widen, and Michael’s sure that the magic’s taken effect.

Then, you roll your eyes. “Perfectly fine, unless you poisoned the apples a la Snow White?”

“I was just curious.” You shake your head slowly, obviously not believing him.

“And I thought I was going to be the weird one today,” you mutter under your breath, checking the time and grabbing your bag like you would any other morning. “I gotta go. Don’t light the house on fire while I’m gone, okay?”

“I’m not planning on it,” Michael says, still in disbelief that you’re acting completely normal.

With a cheeky smile and a sarcastic wave, you’re out the door with a “bye, Mikey!” He doesn’t even bother to correct you on the nickname, standing in the kitchen in a frozen stupor as he tries to figure out what just happened.

Michael rushes over to the fruit bowl, unsure of if you grabbed the wrong piece of fruit or if you’re just impervious to any sort of mind-affecting magic. Flipping the bowl over, the various apples and oranges scatter across the counter. He allows the tendrils of his magic to extend out like extra limbs, hands grasping for each apple that he can find. Finally he feels it, the magic that fully coats the apple as if it’s caramel being drizzled on top. Michael cries out in relief, examining the apple to make sure it really is the one that was given to him by his father.

With one look, the apple’s incinerated until there’s nothing but a small pile of ashes in Michael’s hand. He turns on the faucet, washing his hands of the ashes and keeping the water running until he’s sure that any trace of the rotten plan is down the drain, both figuratively and literally. Leaning against the counter, Michael flicks his wrist to put the bowl back on the counter like nothing ever happened.

He got lucky this time. Satan influences Michael, injecting himself into his son’s veins and manipulating him until he’s something he doesn’t recognize, something villainous and evil. He almost let the Devil do it again, only this time it involved you. “Never again,” Michael mutters, determined to escape the clutches of his father.

Evil, however, comes in many different forms.

Tag List: @ccodyfern @sammythankyou @girlycakepops @ultragibbycentralworld @sebastianshoe @nana15774 @queencocoakimmie @lichellaw @grim-adventures58 @dandycandy75 @trimbooohgodplsnoooo @everything-is-awesomesauce @jimmlangdon @omgsuperstarg @queenie435 @dextergirl12345 @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @coloursunlimited @kahhlo @storminmytwistedmind @1-800-bitchcraft @langdonslove @cuddletothecake @born-on-stgeorges-day @xavierplympton @michaelsapostle @venusxxlangdon @idespac @hexqueensupreme @tcc-gizmachine @90sroger @gold-dragon-slayer @atombombastic @lvngdvns @nsainmoonchild @trelaney @blakewaterxx @yoheyyosup @forever1313 @ladyrindt @kaetastic

#michael langdon #michael langdon imagine #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon x you #ahs #ahs imagine #ahs imagines #ahs apocalypse #american horror story #american horror story imagine #american horror story apocalypse #american horror story imagines

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

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I Was Praying for You and Me: Chapter 3 - You Are my Favorite Distraction (Rated NC17)

Summary: Kurt and Sebastian are not together, and Kurt is sure that this break up is the last one. But when tragedy strikes over Christmas, of all times, Sebastian is the only person who comes to Kurt's rescue.

This is an ACITW inspired ficlet that I wrote, written for the Hummel Holidays prompts 'Christmas' and 'New Years Eve'. Based off the head canon I had, and mentioned in the one-shot 'Under the Fireworks' that I wrote, that during the course of their relationship, they suffered several small break ups, and one big one. This happens during the big one. But it has a happy ending. :)

Read on AO3.

Lights.

To get his mind off things, Kurt stares at all the lights he can see from the passenger seat of Sebastian’s car. He names them, counts them, categorizes them the same way he did with street signs driving home from his mother’s funeral. Mindless busywork his dad had called it, which sounded insulting except it gave him something to dwell on instead of reality - a future where he never sees his mom again. Truth be told, that’s a reality he never has gotten a firm grasp of. There are days that, despite all of the love and support he has around him, he wishes she was there.

And there are days that, despite the years gone by, he wakes up and, in the haze between awake and dreaming, forgets that she’s dead.

He’s not ready to go through the same thing with his dad.

He can’t lose him yet.

Single street lights, traffic lights (in units of three), Christmas lights strung in fifties, hundreds, two hundreds, the neon light from a diner Kurt doesn’t remember ever seeing before, a garish purple sign in the window flashing the word closed. Kurt wonders if that diner, with it’s shabby-chic gingham curtains and picnic tables instead of regular tables, is one of the places Sebastian called in his search for the impossible – a restaurant open on Christmas. It’s just a diner, but its existence proclaims something stronger, more terrifying than Kurt wants to acknowledge.

Times have changed.

This city – Lima, Ohio - that Kurt once hated with a burning passion, has changed.

His father, sleeping in a hospital bed and surrounded by cellophane-wrapped cocoons of inedible food when he should be at home, has definitely changed. More than Kurt is comfortable with.

He has changed. No longer the closeted kid waiting for his moment, he’s had moments. Tons of moments. Moments he’s proud of. Moments he’s learned from. Moments he’d rather forget. Moments he wishes he could go back to.

Sebastian has changed, too.

And as a couple – romantic, friends, or otherwise - he knows they’ve changed together. He’s owned up to that change more than once. It’s one of the reasons they’re in this situation. Because they’ve changed, and Kurt doesn’t know if they can change back, even in some small way so that they can see eye to eye again.

Does he want to? Will it help?

Or is there a path forward that’s better even if he can’t see it now, where they walk alone for while but meet each other at the end?

But since that thought strays into Sebastian territory (territory that, for the time being, Kurt is trying to avoid) he goes back to looking at the lights. Because the lights are keeping him from grilling Sebastian for information, ask him what happened back at the hospital, what it all meant. Ask him if he knows the thing that no one’s telling him.

Is his father going to be okay?

Kurt watches the lights pass by, the buildings change into houses, the amount of cars parked by the curb increase. He counts the cars, sorts them by color in his head. But the mundane begins to drive him insane, and the words piling up in his brain behind an ever crumbling wall of minutiae tumble over the edge.

“So,” he says. It’s an opening, an invitation if Sebastian chooses to take it.

Even if he doesn’t, Kurt will more than likely keep going anyway. The floodgates are opening. The barricades won’t hold.

“So ...” Sebastian returns, eyes scanning the road ahead unnecessarily.

He’s not a complete idiot. He knows what Kurt is doing.

“What did he say to you?”

“When?”

“You know when?”

Sebastian makes a middle-ground face - the face one makes at a car salesman who comments about the weather as an opening salvo before he starts haggling about price. “Honestly, not much.”

Kurt huffs. “I don’t believe you.”

Sebastian shrugs. “It’s the truth. He just wanted to make sure that you were okay. Asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“You’re lying.”

Sebastian smirks. In this low light, it makes him look years younger, makes Kurt’s heart skip a beat. He wishes that smirk could transport them back in time to when things were simpler, when the most pressing thing on Kurt’s mind was that his so-called soulmate had cheated on him and how in the hell he was going to come up with ten thousand dollars to pay for admission to NYADA.

If he’d only known then how petty those things were, how easy to solve.

Ironically, he was able to overcome both those problems with the help of the man sitting next to him.

“It’s been known to happen, but I’m not lying now.”

Kurt considers debating the point further, not because he doesn’t believe Sebastian, but because provoking Sebastian into an argument would give him something else to take his mind off things besides staring out the Goddammed window.

He’s running out of things to count.

“If the silence is wearing on you, you can put on the radio,” Sebastian offers, reading Kurt’s mind. “I’m pretty sure there’s one or two stations not playing Christmas carols.”

“I doubt it.”

“It’s worth a shot.”

“I guess …” Kurt reaches for it, but an inch away, he stops. Memories flood back - good ones, bad ones. This car, his house, this town are chock full of too many memories.

Too many landmines he can’t seem to avoid stepping onto.

They show up without warning, incapacitate him when they explode.

It’s becoming too much.

He pulls his hand back, crosses his arms over his chest. He hugs himself tight, hunkers down in his seat, and starts counting wreaths.

***

Sebastian pulls up in front of the Hudmel house and parks by the curb. Kurt doesn’t move. He hasn’t fallen asleep, he just doesn’t have it in him. He doesn’t want to sleep in Sebastian’s car but he doesn’t want to bother with incidentals like walking and finding his keys.

And Sebastian knows.

He lets the engine idle, keeps the heater running.

Waits in silence till Kurt has the energy to move.

Kurt stares at the cozy house decorated to the nines for the holidays. His dad and stepmom love Christmas as much as the next middle-aged, suburban couple, but they decorate mainly for him and Finn. He and his stepbrother have managed to spend most every Christmas since high school graduation at the Hudmel house, and usually, Sebastian and Rachel spend it with them.

Not this time.

His and Sebastian’s situation is, of course, complicated.

Finn and Rachel were scheduled to join them the following week. They’d gone on some Rosie O’Donnell comedy cruise with her dads. Carole called Finn from the hospital, just to give him the news, but he’s making arrangements to fly in the second he reaches their next port of call. Until then, it’s Kurt holding down the fort. But no amount of sitting outside in the cold, wearing down Sebastian’s engine, is going to make his father get better faster.

And as awful as it sounds, Kurt has to think about himself.

Kurt starts to stir, and Sebastian turns off the engine.

Sebastian gets out of the car, reaching Kurt’s door before Kurt can open it, and offers him his arm. Kurt takes it. Looking up into his ex-boyfriend’s face, the street lamp behind him giving him a blurry, sodium-orange halo, Kurt yawns.

“Ready to pass out, huh?” Sebastian asks, leading Kurt up the icy walk. He catches Kurt’s keys when he fumbles them and helps put the correct one in the lock.

“My body is,” Kurt says, opening the door and walking inside. “My brain wants to solve the Riemann Hypothesis.”

“Brutal.”

“Yeah. It would make more sense if I liked math.”

Sebastian locks the door for Kurt, who looks ready to knock out where he stands. And as much as he wants to let Kurt crash, he doesn’t want him to drop emotionally. What Kurt deserves is twenty-seven hours of peaceful, uninterrupted sleep, but he needs to ease into it.

“Are you in the mood to watch a movie?” Sebastian asks, turning on the central heat and switching on the lights, bringing the house to life. “Maybe binge watch some late night television? I can rustle up some snacks. Uh …” He’s about to make a comment about Kurt’s dad hiding something in the kitchen he shouldn’t be eating, but it strikes him as tasteless to make jokes, no matter how much he knows Burt would appreciate his humor. “I could whip up some French toast. You remember how stellar my French toast is.”

Kurt cracks a small smile and triumph, for the moment, is Sebastian’s.

Another memory, but this one not as devastating … the damage to the kitchen notwithstanding.

“Thanks,” Kurt says, “but I’m (yawn) exhausted. So, if you don’t mind …”

“Do you want me to leave?” Sebastian asks, feeling uneasy for suggesting it considering what he’d promised Burt.

“No. I just … I would rather hang out in my room, if that’s not too weird for you. This way if I fall asleep, you won’t feel obligated to carry me to bed.”

An image pops into Sebastian’s head of him carrying Kurt, bridal style, to his room. Then his brain helpfully reminds him of all the times he has carried Kurt to bed, and it almost does him in. “The boiler room would be weird. Your bedroom, not so much.”

“Boiler room? Who do I look like? Freddy Krueger?” Kurt mumbles, trudging his way to his room. Step by step everything becomes difficult. The act of lifting his foot can go straight to hell and burn in a fire. He feels very much like he’s fighting molasses and the molasses is winning. Part of him wants to stop, lay down in the hallway and conk out. But he can’t do that.

He can’t give up.

He can’t sleep here since he doesn’t know how often Carole or his father cleans this floor, and he’s wearing one of his best pairs of jeans.

He reaches for the doorknob about three feet before he reaches the door. He might as well do it now while he’s thinking about it. Otherwise he might not have the motivation when he gets there. He turns it, pushes in, lets the door swing. If it rebounds while he’s walking through, there’s a fifty-fifty chance he might let it smack him in the face.

He couldn’t care less.

He stops at the foot of his bed and starts taking off his coat.

“Why do bedrooms always seem smaller when you go back to them?” he asks. “I mean, I only lived here during high school, but it still seems tiny to me.”

“I think because when you’re young, your bedroom is your whole world. But when you leave home, you outgrow that world. Ergo, you outgrow them.”

Kurt chuckles dryly. “You’re one to talk. Your childhood bedroom’s about the size of a studio apartment!”

“Yes but the penthouse I live in now makes it seem so much dinkier,” Sebastian claps back with a smirk. “Did you want to take a shower or …?”

“If you don’t mind …” Kurt tugs off his sweatshirt, tosses it on a chair, then starts unbuttoning his shirt “… I’d really rather fuck if it’s all the same to you.”

Sebastian’s face goes blank and his eyes pop. “I’m sorry. Wha---?”

Sebastian doesn’t finish his question.

Kurt digs into the last of his reserves and crashes their mouths together. “Did I stutter?” he whispers, reaching for Sebastian’s belt.

“No, I just … mmph … I want to be sure …”

Kurt tugs hard on the leather, freeing the strap from the buckle in one pull. “Do you want me to stop?”

“That depends … do you really want to do this? I mean really?”

Kurt looks into Sebastian’s eyes, the right corner of his mouth sliding up into a cocky grin. “Absolutely.”

Sebastian’s grin matches Kurt. “Then by all means.” He crouches, hugs Kurt’s legs around the thighs, then picks him up and carries him to the bed. “You know, when your dad told us to go do something fun, I was hoping we’d do this.”

“Probably not the best time to mention my dad,” Kurt says, starting in on Sebastian’s shirt even though he’s only about halfway done with his own, “all things considered.”

“Gotcha.” Then Sebastian kisses him. And apart from taking a breath or two, he doesn’t stop.

Despite the fact that Kurt is wearing a pair of jeans so tight Sebastian thought he might have to cut Kurt out of them, both of them end up completely naked in a ridiculously short amount of time, clothes tossed about like confetti, not in keeping with Kurt’s usual edict that everything be laid out neatly on the nearest piece of unused furniture. Lube and a condom are located and not by Kurt. Sebastian knows all of Kurt’s tricks and hiding places. He doesn’t look as he reaches under the mattress and to the middle drawer of the dresser, completely confident that what he needs will be there when he reaches out a hand in search of it.

And he’s right.

Sebastian sits up with his back against the headboard. He rolls the condom over his cock while Kurt straddles him, taking a moment to stack pillows behind Sebastian’s back so the wood doesn’t dig into his spine.

“Thanks, love,” Sebastian whispers as Kurt positions himself, starts working himself down. He nips at Sebastian’s bottom lip, never staying in the same place longer than a second, keeping him on his toes.

“Jesus fuck!” Sebastian growls when Kurt begins to move, grabbing his shoulders and pushing down, burying himself in Kurt’s body deeper … deeper …

Kurt goes deeper. He also goes faster, hitting Sebastian’s thighs hard - deeper and faster, pleasure and pain bouncing off one another until he begins to see stars.

“You know,” Kurt moans, “this doesn’t mean anything. I’m just … I’m just using you as a distraction.”

“Kurt” – Sebastian grabs Kurt’s hips to slow him down, but Kurt slaps his hands away. He’ll go as fast as he likes, as hard as he wants, and when they’re done, they’re going to do this again. They’re going to do this till he can’t remember his own name, till his mind is wiped clean, till the exhaustion in his body is so overwhelming he can’t do anything but close his eyes and pass out. He’s going to do this until he can effectively erase the past twelve hours of his life. And then, they’re going to do it again – “when have I ever objected to being used as a distraction by you?”

“Yeah, well, I could just as well slap you in the face.”

Sebastian bucks up, willing to play this Kurt’s way if this is really the way Kurt wants it. “Do you … nngh … want to slap me in the face?”

“Only every time I see you,” Kurt admits, stopping and hovering so Sebastian can have a turn at pounding him instead.

But Sebastian stops altogether and it pisses Kurt off, especially with the addition of his raised eyebrow and his smug-ass expression.

“Then do it,” Sebastian says.

Kurt chuckles nervously. “Are you kidding me?”

“Not at all. If you want to slap me, go ahead. Get it out of your system.”

Without another beat lost, Kurt rears back and slaps Sebastian across the face. Sebastian’s face flies to the side as he takes the hit. He turns back to look at Kurt, a red hand mark visible across his cheek. They lock eyes, both with peculiar looks of surprise on their faces.

Kurt can’t lie. Slapping Sebastian feels amazing.

Sebastian must think so, too, because he stares at Kurt, lips twisted into the most sinisterly erotic smile Kurt has ever seen.

Kurt considers asking Sebastian if he hurt him, but he doesn’t. He slaps him again. This time, Sebastian hisses, but Kurt doesn’t let him catch his breath, slapping him a third time for good measure. Sebastian catches Kurt’s wrist and holds it; holds his gaze, too, trying to decipher what’s going on in his mind.

“I’m gonna switch things up a bit,” Sebastian says. “Do you mind?”

Kurt shoots him a curious look. “Not at all.”

Sebastian slides out of Kurt’s body only long enough to re-position him on his knees facing the headboard, then grabs his hips roughly and enters him from behind. His hands roam, pinching at Kurt’s thighs and slapping his ass while he gnaws his shoulders. He wraps an arm around Kurt’s body, a hand creeping up to his neck. The hand doesn’t close around, doesn’t squeeze. It’s just there, a symbol of Sebastian’s possessive nature where Kurt is concerned.

Mine.

I call him mine.

Even if they’re not officially together, on some level, Kurt belongs to him, especially now when he’s consuming him.

Kurt grabs the headboard and holds on tight, turning at an angle to catch Sebastian’s gaze. He loves looking at Sebastian during sex, loves seeing the desperation in his green eyes.

And Kurt does see it, but it has little to do with the sex they’re having. Sebastian is begging, trying to hold on to every second, hoping it’s not the last time they’ll have together.

He’s looking at Kurt the way Kurt looked at his dad, and Kurt realizes he’s not okay. He’s not okay with losing his dad.

But he’s also not okay with losing Sebastian.

What exactly had Sebastian done?

He’d overstepped a line, the same way he always does, but not necessarily in a bad way.

He didn’t cheat on him.

Like the hand on Kurt’s neck, he was being possessive. He did what he did because he cares. But Sebastian’s numero uno solution to everything is to buy a way out, so there are times when it seems he doesn’t take anything seriously, and Kurt can’t live that way. He can’t live in a sit-com where every situation that comes up, good or bad, has a punchline followed by canned laughter.

And he comes out looking like a naive idiot.

Why is tonight different?

A few thousand dollars, a few million dollars, can’t buy a solution to what’s going on with Kurt’s father. Yet Sebastian is here in bed with him, letting Kurt open up, be vulnerable. And aside from a few attempts to ease the tension at the hospital, he hasn’t cracked a single joke.

Because Sebastian has changed.

And if Kurt loved Sebastian then, he adores him now.

“Talk to me,” Kurt moans, unsettled by the quiet in the room, as if they’re together in this but still apart.

He can’t be apart.

He needs to be whole.

“What do you want me to say?”

“The first thing that comes to your mind.”

“I …” Sebastian hesitates, a brick lodged in his throat. “I love you, Kurt.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt admits. “But say something else.”

Thank God! Sebastian thinks, on the verge of tears. The sex is incredible, but hearing that Kurt still loves him … that’s what he’ll take awake from this, what he’ll carry with him if this ends up being the last time.

Dear God, don’t let this be the last time ...

“I love your ass.”

Kurt chuckles. “Better.” He pushes back, sticks his ass out, lets Sebastian have his way with him.

And Sebastian does because (this might sound lousy to say) here in Kurt’s bed, the man is in his element.

When it comes to sex (because that’s what they’re doing - having sex. Kurt refuses to think of this as making love. They’re fucking. That’s all …) Kurt hit the lottery with Sebastian. Ever since the first time, sex with Sebastian has been glorious, and it gets better the more they do it.

Kurt tries not to dwell on why that is.

But the man knows his way around a human body.

And he has the hands of an artist.

“Oh, Kurt,” Sebastian pants into Kurt’s shoulder, “Jesus Christ … I’m cumming … I’m cumming, I’m cumming ...”

Kurt huffs, put off by the fact that they’ve only been at it for around forty-five minutes - a mind-blowing forty-five minutes - and Sebastian is already throwing in the towel. Of course, Sebastian hasn’t been with anyone for the time they’ve been apart, so Kurt can’t blame the man.

Kurt hasn’t, either, so when Sebastian’s palm starts caressing his cock, his resolve starts circling the drain as well.

“Yes, yes, yes …” Kurt chants, his vision going prickly, then black before he even closes his eyes. This is it - this is where he escapes. Behind his eyelids, into the recesses of his mind, where thought disappears and sensation takes over. If he can just hold on to it, if Sebastian can make it last. He’d try if Kurt asked him to, but the words won’t come out. As with everything, there’s a point where things start to spiral out of his control. His muscles spasm and his body shudders. He has to choose between thinking of something to stop his orgasm and risk going unfulfilled, or giving in to the void, letting his body do its thing, and then start all over from the beginning once they catch their breath.

That’s the most logical course of action. And it’s not a bad one.

The thing that scares Kurt is that space in between, when he comes back from ecstasy and Sebastian’s heat and has to face the cold and dark. He’ll have to exist there with whatever thoughts his brain decides to throw at him until they can start again and Sebastian can wipe his mind clean.

He’ll have time, he figures. Time to get his head on straight, stop reeling, before the plunge happens. Three minutes? Four? He’ll only need five minutes before he’ll be ready to go again, to lose all thought in Sebastian’s arms. That means one minute of depression. Two at the most.

But he’s not as lucky as he thinks he’ll be.

It comes at him much too quickly.

Kurt leans against the headboard, hugging what he can of it so he doesn’t drown when the wave hits.

“Kurt? Honey? Are you okay?”

Kurt shakes his head.

“Is this … not what you wanted?” Sebastian slides his hand off Kurt’s shoulder and backs away. Kurt hears him gulp behind him. “Did you change your mind in the middle and I didn’t hear you?”

Kurt shakes his head again. “That’s not it. I did want this. I …” His body curls, sinks towards the pillows. “He’s not … he’s not leaving the hospital? Is he?”

Sebastian sighs. “I … I don’t know, Kurt.”

Kurt spins around and shoves Sebastian away, but he doesn’t go far. He doesn’t get up. He doesn’t leave. Kurt didn’t want him to, but he needed to be sure he wouldn’t.

As immature as it sounds, he needs to know that Sebastian won’t leave, even if Kurt pushes with all his might.

He needs Sebastian, but he needs to be able to hurt him, just a little, to even out the pain inside of him.

He’ll find a way to make that up to him later.

“Yes, you do!”

“I don’t! I swear!”

“You’re lying!”

“Kurt, babe, I’m not that cruel a person. Not to you. Even if he told me in the strictest confidence, I would still tell you because you deserve to know. We’re all on edge about this, all jumping seven steps ahead and assuming the worst, but to be honest, I don’t think he knows for sure.”

“Then what did he tell you?”

“Nothing! Like I said, he wants me to look after you. He’s scared, like you. That’s all. But you need to have a little faith.”

“In what?” Kurt snaps, irritated that Sebastian would spout faith with him of all people.

“In the people who love you, Kurt. The people who want to help you. Look, I know that at times like this, it feels like the best thing is to be alone, but I disagree. That’s just the easiest. And I get that. When you’re around people, you feel the need to be accommodating, and you don’t have the energy for that. But I think you need all of the fun and laughter you can find right now, with people who get that this is hard for you and will give you your space when you need it. Turns out, I just so happen to know a big house not two hours from here filled with people who would love to see you, who will shower you with love and affection, but will also ignore the shit out of you if you need it. Because, again, they love you.”

Kurt glares at Sebastian, eyes hard as glass, but he begins to soften when Sebastian’s hopeful gaze starts to slip.

He’s tired, too, but he’s doing everything in his power to be strong for Kurt.

Kurt needs to start giving some of that strength back.

“You’re really working hard to sell that love angle, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, well, it’s important. I want you to know that you’re loved.”

“I do,” Kurt says quietly, plopping on his side with a body-deflating sigh. Sebastian wastes no time lying behind him and winding his arms around him. He doesn’t hold tight in case Kurt wants to put some distance between them.

He doesn’t.

He moves closer.

“What do we do now?” Sebastian asks.

Kurt doesn’t want to be rushed into giving him an answer, even though he has one more or less figured out, but he also doesn’t fault Sebastian for asking. Sebastian had hitched quite a few of his future plans to his relationship with Kurt so Kurt understands.

Kurt did, too.

“I say we keep going on the way we are, not think about anything too heavy for the moment. We’ll go visit your folks, celebrate the holiday, and then, when we get back to New York, we’ll revisit it. I promise.”

“Fair enough,” Sebastian says, sounding a bit disappointed. “Do we still get to fuck?”

In another lifetime, it would have embarrassed Kurt how fast he answers. “Provided you’re a good boy, yes. Yes, we do.”

“Groovy. But just so you know, I’m always going to be yours, Kurt. Always. We’ve done everything aside from mortal combat to push one another away, and guess what?”

“What?”

Sebastian takes Kurt’s hand, weaves their fingers together. “I’m still here.”

“Me, too.” Kurt wriggles back into Sebastian’s embrace, buries himself against his body. Despite the confusing and uncomfortable situation they find themselves in, he’s grateful for this, that Sebastian would be so generous with his body even if Kurt isn’t giving him the security of absolutes. But Kurt can’t make decisions right now. He needs to hide from the world, from his life, his responsibilities.

From the inevitable.

There are way worse places to do that than Sebastian’s arms.

“Mortal Kombat?” Kurt snickers. “Still keeping up that nerd boy street cred, huh?”

“Oh, I don’t know …” Sebastian hugs Kurt tight, pulling the sheets over them and rocking him back and forth. He missed this. God, did he miss this. And even though he didn’t believe in God an inch, he silently prayed that he could get this back. Somehow, in some way, he needed this back. But for the moment, he was content to hold Kurt together, keep him from shattering. “I’d say that was a … flawless victory.”

Kurt rolls his eyes, groaning to the moon and back. “Shut up, Smythe, or I’m never fucking you again.”

#kurtbastian #acitw #acitw au #sebkurt #sekurt

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kpopisamood · 5 years

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Queen’s Clan { 7 }

Summary: y/n is plagued by nightmares. She realizes that the more she runs away, the less frequently they haunt her. However, in running away, she’s also running straight into her ultimate demise. Will she be saved in time by those who would lay down their lives for her, even if they don’t know of each other’s existence?

Monsta X/Reader, Human/Vampire(s), Reverse Harem

Warnings: future smut?, violence, language

Word count: 1.69k

Tag list: @noonaduck @lovinggalaxies @elenaramos1 @girlwith-thecinder-blockgarden

***

The image was almost comical. You were in the dining hall, front and center at the end with four pairs of eyes all locked on you in some sort of fashion. Minhyuk sported a newly acquired bruise by his eye and he was looking at you with great concern. The others, whose names were Jooheon, Hyunwoo, and Changkyun all stared at you curiously. Wonho was nowhere to be seen but you had heard he went searching for you and his former “clan mates” weren’t allowing anyone to leave to go tell him they found you.

“It builds character.” Changkyun stated sarcastically to your questions on why you would do such a thing.

Jooheon coughed awkwardly, trying to wrack his mind for any sort of conversation starters.

“So, you’re the new Queen.” Changkyun sighed out. Jooheon did a double take at the blatant disrespect he gave to you but shook it off when you shrugged and mumbled a ‘guess so.’ back at him.

“Okay this is too much, who are you guys?” You blurted out, the silence was deafening and someone had to say something other than small conversations.

Hyunwoo cleared his throat before starting the introductions...again.

“I’m Hyunwoo, but those closest to me call me Shownu. These two are Changkyun,” he pointed to undercut boy “And Jooheon.” He pointed to the one with a cap.

“I meant, why are you here?” You pushed on.

“Could have asked that from the start.” Changkyun mumbled out, earning a slap on his shoulder from Jooheon.

“We were all part of the same Clan at one point. We were here to catch up on some new info and we sensed a new Queen in the area. We’ve had a system of Queens and Kings for centuries and usually when one awakens, it’s announced globally. It’s strange because we’ve never heard of you and your birth wasn’t announced to our society whatsoever so you could say we were curious about a hidden Queen.” He explained, leaving no detail out.

“Well, you’ve seen the freak show so is your business finished here?” You really weren’t trying to sound bitchy, but it’s been a long couple of days with too much information about things that normal people dreamt about or ended up in a state institution from.

“My liege, we’d like to stay under your command. If that’s alright with you.” Jooheon stammered out, trying very hard not to sound pushy.

“Speak for yourself.” Changkyun rolled his eyes and stood, just as Hoseok marched in, hair tousled and shirt in shreds, revealing a very healthy abdomen. But you weren’t staring, no.

Just as he’s about to blow up at everyone, he sees you at the head of the table and marches his way to you. He carefully lifts up each of your arms, checks under your hair and around your neck as well as anything that wasn’t covered.

“I’m fine.” You huffed, trying to pull away from him. He held on for a split second longer before allowing everything to set in place. “Can someone explain why you were all fighting?”

“It’s training.” Changkyun said simply. “We’ve gotta keep in shape somehow and the element of surprise helps sometimes. Are we through here? Because I’d like to go to bed.”

Hyunwoo nodded at him, allowing him to escape through the hall and you heard his footsteps lightly tap along the floor, disappearing slowly as he got further away.

“My apologies for our clan mate, Queen. He’s a bit troubled lately.” Hyunwoo explained, trying to cover for his underlings. He’d take on a full beating for the two he came with and it showed. He was a very silent but kind giant in your eyes and his loyalty to the two were intense. “We saw a little bit of your interaction earlier, is it safe to assume that Minhyuk and Wonho are your Blood?” He asked softly.

“My Blood?” You questioned.

“He means to ask if we serve you officially, my Queen. That you’ve chosen us.” Minhyuk said, his unwavering gaze on you.

“I—“ you cut yourself off. This was still all so new and sudden. Surely you couldn’t have actual servants to do your every bidding without question, right? “I don’t feel comfortable owning people. Slave days are over.” You stated.

A couple seconds lasted before laughs bellowed around you. Jooheon was clutching onto his stomach, Hyunwoo was trying to cover up his mouth, Hoseok was leaning against the wall for support as he faced away to laugh, and Minhyuk was chuckling unabashedly.

“We’re not slaves, Y/N.” Minhyuk laughed out. “We’re our own people who are wanting to do your bidding.”

“Min, that doesn’t make her understanding it any better.” Hoseok chastised. He strode over and took a seat next to you, face up close. “Have you ever heard of mutualism, Y/N?”

The term sounded familiar, scientific. You faintly recalled your fifth grade science teacher talking about it while he popped in a “Bill Nye The Science Guy” dvd on the lesson. But you signalled him to keep explaining anyways.

“It’s a symbiotic relationship where all parties involved will benefit. Neither side will have anything taken from them or be hurt.” His gaze intensified, almost like he was seeing straight into your soul. “What a Clan, or Blood, as Shownu mentioned, would do is have a complex relationship where all parties could rely on each other. There could be a simple tie with just friendship and comfort that you’d be seeking, or there’d be the mating side of things. We’re not pushing you straight into the latter. What we all want is to have that symbiotic relationship where we protect you and you provide us the idea of belonging.”

Belonging?

Changkyun suddenly reappeared and shamelessly stated,“Oh, so y’all haven’t fucked yet?”

Your eyes widened before you turned a deadly glare onto the man who was getting on your last nerve.

“Jesus Christ, what nun in what orphanage beat you as a child?!” You yelled, ready to tackle the shit out of this cocky kid.

Changkyun’s eyes widened slightly before a smirk fell into place before he rebutled back, “Probably the same one who kept a chastity belt on you through adulthood.”

Precisely four seconds ticked by before you lunged for the arrogant prick, tackling him down and utterly losing it. He gripped onto your wrists, not allowing you to physically assault him as you wanted and he laughed. The idiot laughed.

Before things could get any worse, you felt two pairs of arms gently prying you away from the boy who would die in a few seconds. Each one whispering sweet nothings to calm you down but it did nothing except make you rage.

What was going on? You weren’t typically a person who was easily angered. Sure, you’d get annoyed every now and then. But so did everyone. You had to keep a low profile and fighting with people didn’t exactly keep you off the radar. So why the sudden hostility?

An image of Changkyun being held down by you while you slowly licked up the column of his throat, slightly nipping at it while he groaned against you slipping into your mind, making your throat dry up and you stumbled back.

“I need to go.” You told the two holding you. Minhyuk and Jooheon eye each other before they nodded and helped walk you out of the dining hall and back to your room.

Another feeding session would likely ensue and the three that were left in the room felt a pang of envy strike them.

***

“She’s fed from him already.” Shownu stated the obvious, giving Wonho a glare.

“Yes.” He replies back, not denying anything.

“You realize Minhyuk is considered part of her Blood now, right?” Changkyun teased. He was already off the floor, brushing off the invisible dust he imagined was there, as if he wasn’t just attacked. “Also, she was able to get me to the floor, Wonho.”

Wonho was about to threaten him with the sexual insinuation before he turned to the hallway where you disappeared in awe.

“She’s getting stronger. She’ll need more Blood mates.” Shownu stood up and walked to his former Clan mate.

“She doesn’t want this.” Wonho bit back. They all had a deeper history with one another and he wasn’t so willing to go back to what once was. It could finish off what she started.

“She doesn’t have to have what we did. This time could be different.” Shownu was desperate. He had needed a place to belong ever since her. If he had to play along and just be the big brother or best friend for you, he would. But he couldn’t go on living like the lost being he was turning into. “You know what will happen if we don’t align ourselves to her. What we’ll get is death and what she’ll get is possibly worse.” Shownu practically begged. He would not go back to the life he had before. He had too much pride and he wanted what was best for his former clan mates.

Wonho’s jaw tensed and loosened for a few seconds more. “You can stay as long as you want. But I’m not forcing her into any sort of bond. This time, we’re doing things her way. If she wants us as her mates, fine. If she wants us as friends and simple companions, we stick with it. Understood?”

Shownu smiled before he nodded his acknowledgement. “You have my word.” He promised, and he always kept those promises. Wonho shook his head and walked out, likely going to see how you were doing with your newfound thirst.

“Did you really mean that, hyung?” Changkyun asked, approaching him.

“We won’t let it be like last time. We can’t.” He shook slightly, feeling past emotions threatening to boil over before Changkyun clapped his shoulder gently.

If they were doing this, then they’ll do it together. After all, this was their Clan.

#kpop #kpop fic #monsta x fic #monsta x x reader #monsta x x you #ot7 x reader #ot7 x you #kpop fanfic #monsta x #monsta x fanfic

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myinnerworks · 4 years

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Inner child healing: 5 surprisingly powerful exercises The “inner child” is one of those concepts that is used regularly yet is a little confusing to think about. It’s referred to in different ways, ranging from “the child archetype”, to “the child within”, to “the wonder child” to the “wounded child.” Yet what does it mean? And how does “inner child healing” help you make positive changes in your life? A few days ago I did an incredible masterclass hypnotherapy session with Marisa Peer (it’s online and free – you can do it too by clicking here). In the session, Marisa takes us back to childhood in order to clear any traumatic experiences we had that have resulted in a fear of rejection. The hypnotherapy session was so powerful that I decided to investigate the concept of the “inner child”. In this article, I’ll break down what it means and will share 5 surprisingly powerful exercises to heal your wounded “inner child”. The term “inner child” doesn’t refer to the part of your brain that is reserved for having childish thoughts! Rather, the inner child exists as the childlike aspect within your unconscious mind. It reflects the child we once were, in both her “positive” and “negative” aspects. Our unmet needs and suppressed childhood emotions, as well as our childlike innocence, natural enthusiasm, and creativity, are all waiting within us. The repressed emotions refer to all of the things you were taught as a child not to feel if you wanted to receive love. The result: you were only offered attention when you obeyed. It’s almost inevitable that this happens when parents, education, and society impose rules and standards to help socialize us into becoming functioning human beings. In fact, it’s good that this happens. Constraints are required in order to understand boundaries and grow as human beings. However, the result is that the inner child within you still holds onto the sadness, anger, and trauma that resulted from feeling rejected. Simple examples of things we learn from our upbringing that result in feelings of rejection are as follows: “You’d better not say what you really think”, “Don’t try to get that promotion because you aren’t smart enough”, “You need to make your parents happy.” Connecting with the inner child focuses on bringing these feelings to the light of your consciousness so that you can find the root causes of the challenges you’re facing as an adult. Below we’ll share the 5 surprisingly powerful ways to heal your wounded inner child. But first, a quick note about Carl Jung, the originator of the term. Carl Jung was a renowned psychology expert who founded many theories about personality, identity, and analytical psychology. His work has been studied the world over, and today, many of his theories and suggestions for improving one’s life are still used widely. Jung is reported to have originated the term “inner child” with the “divine child archetype”. It’s used as a concept to explore our challenges growing up and developing our personalities. In this sense, the “inner child” stays within us, forming a part of our consciousness as images. This has an impact on how we interact with the outside world. Read more about Carl Jung here. The “inner child” is an autonomous and hidden form deep within. It’s transformed when given expression. How to recognize if you have a wounded inner child How do you know if your past trauma is affecting you deeply right now? Is it connected to your inner child? These are some signs that you may have a wounded inner child: You feel that there is something wrong with you, in the deepest parts of yourself. You experience anxiety when going out of your comfort zone. You don’t have a strong sense of identity. You deliberately like being in conflict with people around you. You’re a hoarder of things, emotions, people, and you have a hard time letting go. You feel inadequate as a man or a woman. You constantly criticize yourself for your supposed inadequacy. You’re unforgiving to yourself, rigid and a perfectionist. You have a hard time committing and trusting. You have deep abandonment issues and would cling to relationships, even when they are toxic. There are many more signs that your inner child may be wounded. Truthfully, all of us, no matter how small or insignificant, have traumas from our past that need addressing. What is inner child healing? Inner child healing, or inner child work, is an essential part of inner work, the psycho-therapeutic or spiritual process of changing yourself to become the person you know you can be. On its own, inner child healing reconnects us to the wounded elements of our inner child within. According to prominent psychospiritual counselor and mentor, Mateo Sol: “Inner child work is the process of contacting, understanding, embracing and healing your inner child. Your inner child represents your first original self that entered into this world; it contains your capacity to experience wonder, joy, innocence, sensitivity and playfulness.” This reconnection allows you to access the fragmented parts of yourself so that you can discover the root of your phobias, fears, insecurities, and self-sabotaging inclinations. Instead of simply finding and looking at the symptoms of your pain, inner child healing will help you go right to the core and reveal when your issues began, and deal with it effectively. How to heal your wounded inner child Deep within us resides the memories of the experiences we had as children. These memories continue to live and interact with the present. Our inner child is the source of our vitality and creativity, and developing a relationship with our inner child helps to heal emotional problems that result from not honoring this part of ourselves in our adult lives. There are many pressures in our adult lives that threaten to extinguish the flame of our inner child that lives within. You can fight back against these pressures by connecting with your childhood source. Here are 5 ways to immediately connect with your inner child. 1. Reconnect with your childhood: One way to do this is to “time travel” back to your childhood. You can do this by making a list of things that brought you joy when you were young. Spend some time daydreaming and reliving these memories as though they were happening today. 2. Identify your specific inner child: According to WikiHow, there are patterns of childhood that are common to most people. See which patterns resonate with you in order to see what is coming up in your life today. Here are the examples they cite: The abandoned child: This inner child often emerges from not getting enough attention from parents. It can be relatively innocent, such as parents being too busy, or it can be more severe, coming from abuse or neglect. The playful child: This child is healthy and often neglected in adulthood. Do you remember when you were feeling playful and spontaneous, having fun without guilt or anxiety? The fearful child: This child received a lot of criticism and regularly experiences anxiety when not getting enough affirmation. 3. Write a letter to your inner child: You can do this in the form of an apology if you feel you’re living a life that doesn’t honor your inner child. Or you could write a simple letter explaining that you wish to build a stronger relationship with your inner child in your life today. 4. Pay attention to your feelings: Your inner child is sensitive and vulnerable. It’s important to pay attention to your inner child’s fears and insecurities as well as the joys and feelings of wonder that often come up when connecting with your inner child. Throughout the day, check-in with yourself and ask, “how am I feeling right now?” 5. Be mindful of your inner critic: One of the biggest challenges I faced in spending time with my inner child was feeling like a fool for doing so. I’m an adult now and it felt silly to try and connect with the feelings I was having when I was a child. This was my inner critic speaking. It’s important to listen to this voice, at the same time as listening to the voice of your inner child. All of these voices deserve to be heard, and by listening to them you’ll give them the space to shape how you’re feeling today. What do you think of these ways to connect with your inner child? Can you think of any other methods that have been useful to you? Let us know in the comments below. Going through a guided meditation journey for inner child healing “Caring for your inner child has a powerful and surprisingly quick result: Do it and the child heals.” – Martha Beck Right now, meditation is highly researched in the fields of neuroscience and psychology. There are even studies that suggest that mindfulness meditation might be changing brain activity in areas linked with emotions. So it’s no surprise that many therapists and psychologists use meditation journey for inner child healing. If you are a beginner in meditation, it might be hard for you to sit with your thoughts or to empty your mind of distractions. I suggest you enroll in some classes or begin practicing meditation yourself before you start guided meditation child work. Meditation takes a lot of practice. It requires you to be honest yet kind to yourself, your thoughts, and your emotions. The process of “witnessing your thoughts” can be a particularly difficult technique. However, you can start by doing the easiest and most common approach to meditation – by focusing on the breath. If you’re already experienced in meditation, you can perform this meditation journey provided by Mateo Sol: Breathe deeply and relax. Allow yourself to witness your thoughts. Ask your question. Example: “Dear inner child, when was the first time I experienced trauma in my life?” Allow yourself to witness the thoughts that rise and fall within your mind. Your inner child may or may not decide to reveal the answer to you. Remember to be patient, loving and accepting. If your inner child doesn’t want to reveal the answer, embrace that. It’s important that your inner child feels safe, secure, and ready. This process may take a couple of minutes to an hour. You can also do this meditation repeatedly until your inner child starts showing you some answers. If you are a beginner at meditation and would like a simple way to get started, check out my article: Alan Watts taught me the “trick” to meditation (and how most of us get it wrong). Using hypnotherapy to build a relationship with your inner child At the beginning of this article, I mentioned a free masterclass hypnotherapy session by Marisa Peer. Taking this class inspired me to research the concept of the inner child and make this information more widely available through Ideapod. There’s a good reason to use hypnotherapy to create a deeper connection with your inner child. Here’s what Mindworks says: “Inner child hypnosis uses a variety of tools and techniques to access, communicate with, calm, and heal a client’s inner child. Hypnotherapy to heal the inner child can create positive changes in the adult who seeks greater self-worth and self-acceptance. It can help them to overcome self-sabotaging behavior that their inner child learned in order to cope with dysfunctionality. But to achieve these goals requires the full cooperation of the client who must really want to heal and make the changes, must believe that they can heal and make positive changes, and must be open to using the tools and techniques provided.”

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enneagramspam · 5 years

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VERONICA SAWYER

6w7

“I wish you'd come with me-“

In response to a question asked over on r/enneafiction.

Veronica’s Six core is exploited at every turn throughout Heathers, the Musical and the clashing of her loyalty to her ideals with the desire to feel safe and secure ultimately results in an abrupt and extreme disintegration over the course of the show.

Basic Fear: Of being without support and guidance / Basic Desire: To have security and support

“I wanted someone strong who could protect me…”

Veronica wants, more than anything else, for someone to have her back in a world she perceives as dangerous and frightening. This is made abundantly clear in Fight For Me, the song where she falls in love with JD after seeing him defend himself. The repeated lyric; “I would fight for you // If you would fight for me,” is the most obvious example- the world itself might remain unsafe, but the potential security to be found in another person is a huge draw for her (“Could you carry me through no man's land?”).

This isn’t the first instance of Veronica’s safety seeking behaviour, however- it’s present as early as Beautiful, when she asks the Heathers; “Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone…” Veronica isn’t interested in spending time with the Heathers for the sake of popularity or self-affirmation- it’s as a shield. Beautiful also sees her scrambling out of the way of anyone who might pose a threat (“Oh, sorry!” // “Aah, nothing!”), except, notably, when Martha is the one being threatened, where the first glimpse of a counterphobic Veronica emerges; “Pick that up right now … I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend.” Sixes are loyal to their friends, but also to their beliefs- Veronica has a strong sense of justice and a conviction that things can become better again;

“But I know, I know...

Life can be beautiful

I pray, I pray

For a better way

We were kind before;

We can be kind once more

We can be beautiful..,”

Ultimately, it’s her loyalty to this ideal, and her ability to function counterphobically to defend and preserve it, that saves her and the school as a whole, allowing her to confront JD with the conviction that “his solution is a lie,” despite his repeated attempts to exploit her loyalty; “Please don’t leave me alone, // You were all I could trust.”

Everything comes to a head at the end of Act One. After the events of Blue leave Veronica feeling particularly defenseless, she does what a disintegrated Six is wont to, and latches onto her only source of security; JD. “You’re not alone,” he tells her, an offer of the security she is seeking, but can’t seem to find anywhere else. Veronica finds herself drawing strength from the relationship; “We’re what killed the dinosaurs, // We’re the asteroid that’s overdue,” and ultimately venerates it to religious significance, following JD’s lead; “Our love is God.” But the fantascism of these statements, and the undercurrent of violence present from the beginning of the song, betray her disintegration, and the brutality that is about to ensue. Veronica reacts with horror when she discovers that JD has in fact, murdered Kurt and Ram instead of just knocking them out as he promised, (“What the fuck have you done?”) but he remains her only source of safety, even in a world that he has just made a lot more dangerous- he is still completely loyal to her; “...I worship you // I'd trade my life for yours.” Veronica finds herself, more afraid than ever, but with no other source of potential safety, she continues to answer JD, “Our love is God,” despite the fear plain on her face, and doesn’t try to leave his embrace- letting go would mean facing her basic fear, and being without support and guidance.

Seventeen is her attempt to make their relationship into a true source of sanctuary for the pair of them, appealing to JD’s own strength of loyalty (“Can’t we be seventeen? // That’s all I want to do.”). As a Six, she is unable to make a convincing statement without acknowledging all their past pain; “Fine we’re damaged,” and the truth of more in their future, “People hurt us … And you’re right, that really blows.” The song exemplifies her Seven wing- she suggests shallow distractions from the pain, chilli fries, prom night, shopping for summer clothes- but ultimately what she is offering JD is her presence by his side; “Don’t stop looking in my eyes.” The song is filled with offers and promises of and appeals to both their senses of loyalty; “I wanna be with you,” “Your love’s too good to lose,” “Hold me tighter,” etc. Ultimately, the conclusion; “I’ll stay if I’m what you choose // If I am what you choose // ‘Cause you’re the one I choose.” sums up Veronica’s tendency towards loyalty, but also need for it, perfectly.

Disintegration to 3:

“Dreams are coming true // When people laugh but not at you!”

What drives many Sixes to disintegrate is a belief that they are not equipped to protect themselves. Veronica’s initial disintegration occurs when she joins the Heathers as a direct result of this belief- by Candy Store, she has become image-conscious enough to sabotage Martha’s popularity in order to maintain her own (and thus her own safety.) Big Fun makes it clear that this strategy, though unhealthy, is working for her, (“I'm not alone! I'm not afraid!”) and she spirals further into it.

When disintegrated, Sixes lash out- they divide the world into “them and us,” and can be driven to sabotage the “them,” in order to protect themselves. As she disintegrates further, Veronica briefly embodies an unhealthy Three’s arrogance- taken in by JD’s sweeping promises in Our Love is God- “We can start and finish wars…” and enthusiastic to play judge and jury to Kurt and Ram- but critically, not executioner. The murder is a shock to her system, and ironically, allows her to see the flaws in their previous arrogance; “We’re not “special”, we’re not “different” // We don’t choose who lives or dies.”

Integration to 9:

“Listen up folks, // War is over.”

There isn’t much opportunity for Veronica to integrate, but Seventeen (Reprise) offers us a glimpse- while as a Six, Veronica can’t put her fears aside completely; “We're all damaged, we're all frightened // We're all freaks but that's alright,” this song has a far more optimistic tone from Veronica than anything else in the whole show; “We’ll endure it, we’ll survive it.” Like a healthy Nine, she shows a willingness to let go of unproductive conflicts (“We are done with acting evil // We will lay our weapons down”,) and relationships alike, (“If no one loves me now // Someday somebody will.”) Enneagram institute describes Nines at their best as; “indomitable and all-embracing, they are able to bring people together and heal conflicts,” and that’s a perfect description of what this song is all about; “Brand new sheriff’s come to town.”

Childhood Wound: They lost faith they would be protected.

““But the sky's gonna hurt when it falls, // So you better start building some walls…”

There’s an underlying pattern in Heathers, like in many teen dramas, of adults who are essentially untrustworthy- either helpless or unwilling to lend a hand to the kids they should be responsible for. This is arguably such a pervasive theme because it lends the teenagers more agency in the plot and gives their struggles more credibility, but in Heathers, this trope is in fact a depiction of a lack of empathy from adults who truly don’t take teenagers seriously, or are in fact outright abusive or neglectful.

In Beautiful, teachers objectify Veronica, or only recognise her once she is important enough to be seen with the Heathers. Outside of her, Kurt and Ram’s fathers’ are demonstrably abusive, and their sons perpetuate that cycle of abuse by taking it out on their schoolmates. They only repent only in My Dead Gay Son- too late. Ms Fleming is apathetic towards the students whose mental health she is supposed to prioritise from her first appearance- trying to impose a detention on Heather Duke even as she vomits from her eating disorder right in front of her. In Shine A Light, her advice to the students is facile, and her motivation is more about performing for the cameras than actually making a positive impact. Altogether, Veronica lives in a world where adults simply can’t be depended upon for help or sanctuary. Her verse in Dead Girl Walking (Reprise), directed at JD, encompasses all this;

“I wish your mom had been a little stronger

I wish she stayed around a little longer

I wish your dad were good!

I wish grown-ups understood!

I wish we’d met before

They convinced you life is war!”

From Yo Girl, we know the situation applies not just to Veronica’s schoolmates, but her, too. The intertwining of her parent’s empty reassurances; “Your problems seem like life and death! // I promise, they’re not!” with the chorus’ building, ominous reminder of the very real threat of JD drawing closer and closer, “Guess who’s climbing the stairs? // Guess who’s picking the lock?” shows that her parents aren’t equipped to protect her. Childhood wounds only have to be felt- a Six can perceive themselves as vulnerable when this isn’t the truth of the situation. It’s notable that despite the present danger, she simply answers, “You wouldn’t understand,” and works to protect herself (“Veronica’s trying to keep him out, now,”) and again, doesn’t ask anyone for help during Dead Girl Walking (Reprise). All of Veronica’s experiences have clearly built her into a Six who feels she has no-one left to trust.

w7:

“Let's be normal, see bad movies // Sneak a beer and watch tv,”

Veronica often deals with her issues by retreating, shutting her eyes to the unpleasant realities of what’s going on around her, with varying success; “Dream of ivy-covered walls and smoky French cafés // Fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!” Her conflation of her own ideals of kindness and inner beauty with the physical beauty she achieves as a result of the Heathers’ makeover is arguably made easier by her Seven wing- “When you’re beautiful // It’s a beautiful frickin’ day!”- when she fakes Heather Chandler’s suicide note, she as much confesses this; “Believe it or not, I knew about fear ... I hid behind smiles and crazy hot clothes,” although she doesn’t admit this is partly confessional. This isn’t the only instance of Veronica’s unwillingness to confront unpleasant truths in favour of happier distractions- trying to undo what’s happened with JD with chilli fries and dancing seems another example, as does her behaviour in Dead Girl Walking, wherein she opts to distract herself from her anxieties not just by returning to her source of security, (“In here it’s beautiful,”) but with seeking baser pleasure to drown out any pain; “Make this whole town disappear!”

#Veronica Sawyer #6w7 #Type 6 #Heathers the Musical #enneagram

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bucky-iss-bae · 5 years

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Love Yourself (Stony) - Part 1

Hey Guysss, so here's Part 1 of my 3 Part Stony Fic. I think I found this the most difficult, character growth doesn't show as much as I wanted but I’m still learning hope you all enjoy xoxo

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Stony (Steve x Tony)

Summary: After Civil War Tony and Steves relationship falls to pieces as do both Tony and Steve - A Loose Enemies to Friends to Lovers - Very Loose.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, I think I made Steve look like a really bad guy and a prick. But I do love him.

A/N: So this is the first multiple part fic that I’m posting, one of many xoxo

Masterlist Fandom List

Love Yourself - Part One

One of the worst feelings in the world is feeling completely alone and unwanted. Feeling like everything that’s happened is your fault, constantly trying to impress someone, someone you love, that someone being a guy that your father constantly talked about, constantly praised during your childhood. Trying to impress him, your father, anyone. But both of them ripped away from you by the same motherfucker.

It’s not like Tony tried to impress Steve constantly. He just didn’t want him to think he was that irresponsible conceited prick when they first met. But instead, he feels like he should have realized, loving yourself is far much better than letting someone else love you. That way you avoid getting hurt.

But of course, Tony feels like a dumbass. A dumbass that fell for the charming smile, the blue eyes that could just consumer anyone. The eyes that held so much emotion, power, love and it quickly moved on to pity. All of it changed as soon as the damaged Bucky Barnes was back.

So much bitterness and hate that was held towards Barnes. Even before he found out the Winter Soldier had killed Howard and Maria Stark. Killing the woman that Tony loved so much yet he held regret in his heard that he wasted his time, and instead dint show them as much love and respect he should’ve.

Tony hated him before this though. When all Steve could talk about was the good old days with Bucky. The good old days with his father. Holding more good memories of his father than he ever did.

Then let’s not forget how that man, the man that Tony wore his heart on his Steve for protected his best friend rather than his partner, the man who had planned out an extravagant yet quiet proposal. Not only protecting his best friend but also keeping the fact that Steve knew who killed Howard and Marie Stark. Steve knew whenever he spoke about Howard, whenever he spoke about Bucky.

It was almost like Bucky Barnes aim was to ruin Starks life. Taking anyone and everyone he had ever loved away from him. Initially, it was bitterness and jealousy that clouded Tony’s image of Bucky, but then as soon as the truth was out. As soon as Steve kept these secrets from Tony. As soon as they were revealed he realized the bitterness was called for which evolved into hate. Such a strong hatred.

Now Steve knows. Steve knows the hate that Tony has for them both. Especially Steve. But there’s a fine line between Hate and Love. The feeling of knowing that he had been betrayed by the man he envisioned to spend the rest of his life with. Being abandoned by the man he trusted with his life. And what he hates the most, is knowing that no matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be able to hate Steve. Not really.

But knowing that his nightmares are back because the only way they ever left was whilst he was in Steve’s arms at night. Comforted by him. All while Steve knew the truth behind everything. While Steve kept secrets to protect another man that he truly loves. But as soon as the secrets were released the nightmares were back, and this time they were so much worse, as all he could see was the man he loved with all his heart, fighting against him. Watching his retreating figure, another man in his arms leaving Tony for dead.

Everyone else had soon gotten over the events in Germany, the only one who was reserved was Tony. The only one who lost the most. Though he gained an apprentice of some sorts through Peter, he lost someone he truly loved. Someone he truly loves. The worst feeling was knowing they’re in the same building yet could be in separate universes.

As soon as Steve waltzed back into his life, a simple apology in a letter meant nothing. It couldn’t make up for anything. Yet Tony still kept the letter, read, and re-read the words wanting to know whether they came from Steves' heart, or whether he said them to keep the peace between them.

But in reality for Tony, the emotional trauma Steve left him with couldn’t be healed with a letter. Steve took Tony’s heart out of his chest, crushed it with his bare hands or better yet put the shield that Howard made and put it into the arc reactor.

“Tony” Natasha called walking into the lab that Tony rarely left. “You need to talk to him”

Tony scoffed before turning to Natasha, “Who? Barton? Yeah, I spoke to him. We’re good you know. And I actually made a friend out of all this, that little big guy, he knows his science. Could potentially offer him a job within the Stark Industry”

“You know who I’m on about” Natasha pushed walking towards Tony, “Steve’s upstairs right now. You should talk to him”

“I’ve got nothing to do with him,” Tony said whilst starting to fiddle with something else, “I would prefer to keep the space between us the way it is”

“This isn’t a good way to deal Tony. He’s just as broken as you are”

A grimace settled on Tony’s face as he looked at Natasha, “Right. Him and his precious Bucky. All broken together. Are you forgetting that part where his best friend killed my dad… or the part where he hid this from me whilst we were together… or maybe how he was looking for this guy whilst we were together, without telling me. Or here’s the icing on the cake, how he left me for dead fucking ripping my god damn heart out in the process.”

With each word Tony could feel himself getting angrier, the bitterness he’s been holding showing itself.

“He wants to talk. About everything. So much has changed but you’ve thrown yourself into your work. You only go out for publicity. Pepper… she’s even asked about you. You haven’t been sleeping, Tony”

“I’m well aware of that Natasha. Now please… can you leave” His voice cracked as she turned his back on her going back to what she was doing. He wasn’t sure if she was still there or not. But she spoke up a few moments later.

“At least come up to get some food. Eat a proper meal, then try to get some rest. Stop working for a while. Something Tony. You don’t look well”

“And you want me to go up there and show everyone this? Rather not thank you”

“Then I’ll bring some food down to you, then I’ll take you to your room”

“A meal before getting me into bed. Such a Lady aren’t you

“Only for you Stark” She smirked going upstairs.

Rather than Natasha coming down, it was Wanda.

“Tony” Her thick accent drawled, “Your food.” She perched herself up on one of the benches the food beside her.

“Thank you” He muttered before picking at the food she set down, he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he started to eat.

“You don’t need to face anyone. But you need to sleep Tony. I know how bad nightmares of your past can be, I have my own. But I don’t know the pain you’re going through now, just know that I’ll try my best to be there for you”

Tony just nodded at what she was saying before changing the subject, “Who’s up there?”

“Both of them… if that’s what you’re asking. Bucky is recovering, he went under again, I’ll be looking into Bucky’s mind soon. They both live on the compound, Fury’s orders”

“There’s so much more to it than just that kid.”

“I don’t know if Natasha told you this… but Bucky… he also wants to talk to you. I know you don’t want to talk to him or Steve, but out of the two, Bucky would be easier to talk to.”

“Tell him, at my funeral, he’ll have the opportunity but until then he’ll just have to wait”

“Please don’t say things like that. Because then someone will have to send down Clint. Although this is the most you’ve spoken or eaten in a few days. I’m glad”

Despite it being difficult tony fought for Wanda to make sure she got home safely. Since then two gained a stronger relationship. They were family. She cared about him in a genuine way, because she remembers what it’s like to have family ripped away, and she knows when to hold onto all the family that you’ve got left. Even if the family was slightly dysfunctional and full of superheroes. They were still a family.

“Come on, let’s go upstairs. You should probably have a hot shower. Have some sleeping pills and try to get to sleep”

She left no room for an argument instead the A.I. shut everything down safely whilst the two went upstairs and successfully managed to avoid everyone. Wanda left some pills on the bedside table along with some water. And after his shower Tony took them, he was content, until he had an unwelcomed visitor.

The last time I had seen this man was once he was officially free. No eye contact made, nothing. Whenever he’s here I’m not. All I saw was a man I loved… maybe still love who knows if the feelings will ever leave me. But a man who broke my trust broke my heart and took me for everything I had, leaving only my father’s shield.

“Tony” He whispered staring at Tony. It had been so long. The last time Steve had seen Tony was when he left him on the ground walking away with Bucky.

“Leave. Now.” Tony growled out through gritted teeth.

“Please. We need to talk Tony… I... I miss you”

“You miss me? That’s funny. Should become a comedian. Now fuck off out of here”

Tony could feel his blood boiling. He was angry, but also in shock, it had been so long since he last saw him. He missed him. But it had been so long and the feeling of betrayal hit him fresh.

He hesitated before walking out of here. But the pain that caused Tony… seeing him, him being back in their shared room. The number of nights they spent in there together. For the first few weeks, nearly the first month Tony avoided the room like the plague until he realized that he didn’t want his life to be controlled by someone else.

Tony felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was restricted and all he wanted was for Steve to be with him right now. No bad past, but instead he had to be strong, and realize that Steve Rogers would only be a work colleague at a push. An old friend of his dad’s. That’s it, no more, no less.

#Stony #Steve x Tony #Marvel #steve rogers x tony stark #Captain America #Iron Man #Civil War #Cap 3 #MCU #marvel cinematic universe #Steve Rogers #Tony Stark #Bucky Barnes #Sam Wilson #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff

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niki-writes-stuff · 5 years

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Liist of my wip's! (August 2019)

Hello there! I'm Nicola! I mainly write contemporary YA stuff (mostly read that, too!), that feature all of the lgbt rep I'd like to see but don't :)

The following is a list of my current wip's, along with a quick summary of what they're about! If anything here interests you please don't hesitate to ask about it! I love talking about anything from characters to plot and it helps me build ideas when I'm talking to someone else :)

The History of Great Thing That Have Happened to Great People: Taylor, convinced of his extremely bad luck, isn't expecting to catch the eye of Patrick, who's extremely out of Taylor's league in every way that counts. Taylor is convinced their whirlwind summer romance will be regulated to just that: the summer, because with their insanely different lifestyles, coupled with living on opposite ends of the country, and Patrick's slightly obsessed ex, theirs no way they could make it work long term, right? Right?

One More Minute: Kat signs up for a competition that wins her an hour long skype date with her celebrity crush, Harley. Kat can hardly believe it- clearly this is a sign they were meant to be together. Battling demons of her own while being forced to maintain her public image all at the age of 19, Harley is infatuated with Kat from the first minute they spend talking, but she's reluctant to drag the starry eyed, optimistic girl into her world.

For The Throne: The unprecedented assassination of her brother, Jude, just days before his wedding, leaves Genevieve in the position she never envied him: Atop the most powerful and coveted throne in the world. As her relationship with American journalist Eva Letman comes to light, Genevieve faces opposition from both outside and within the palace, forcing her to question her place as a Monarch and her ability to rule. Jude's widowed wife, Sarah, carrying his alleged unborn son, is the power hungry daughter of the Prime Minister, and she's determined to regain her position in the palace, whatever it takes. As the investigation into Jude's death goes underway, and England is sent into a disarray over Genevieve's reign, old and new secrets begin to reveal themselves, threatening to bring down the entire Monarcy down with them.

Title TBD: Hedley knows vampires exist: they have to. She's spent her entire life learning everything she can about them, and in the depths of her research she found solace from her life in a children's home. As she turns 18 and the system prepares to spit her out onto the streets, Hedley goes to the only place she's ever felt at peace: Hartman's Hallow, rumored to be home to the last existing vampire coven in North America.

Title TBD: Skye Nolan has a plan. He's counting down the days until he can start HRT, while trying to survive living with his father and soon to be step-mom after his mother's career takes her to New Zealand. It probably wouldn't have been so difficult, except he also has to handle having a crush on his long time friend, Caden Montgomery, who Skye isn't willing to risk losing over anything. Skye is convinced that a relationship with Caden is completely out of the question- until suddenly, it's not. Caden returns from music camp with the news that he's broken up with his boyfriend, and his sudden availability pushes him and Skye to testing the boundaries of their frriendship.

Who We Were: Noah Hapstall's plans to enjoy his freshman year of university take a sharp turn for the worst when his ex girlfriend reappears in his life after being gone for over a year. Melanie had previously been nothing more than the embodiment of everything Noah despised, the wounds she left cut deep and not even his current seemingly iddylic relationship could heal them. He swore he would never let her back in, but his parents' divorce and the increasing distance between him and his boyfriend, who's currently studying in another state, leaves him vulnerable to Melanie and her typical manipulation. As Noah unwittingly becomes more involved in her life, he is forced to remove his rose tinted glasses and examine the world as it really is, for all the lies, secrets, and pain it holds.

Who We Want To Be: Sylvie Montgomery has had enough of living in the shadow of her celebrity father, her perfect twin brother, her genius best friend and even prodigy violinist younger sister. She doesn't know who she is without the people around her always overshadowing her, and so she jumps at the opportunity to find out when she's offered an internship far away from home: in the city of love, Paris.

Where We Began: Tessa had her heart broken when her girlfriend of two years broke things off out of the blue. But now Hanna's back, begging for a second chance, and Tessa is unbelievably close to giving in. She never really got over Hanna, and maybe they can make things work again, if only they could get over all the baggage their history brings with it.

Rules of The Road: Five best friends go on a cross country road trip the summer before departing for college. They must navigate the rules of road while discovering things about themselves, and each other, that will either tear them apart for good or make them stronger than ever.

Rules of The Game: High strung student body president Sophie ends up tutoring Oren Black, the school's laid back, fun loving quarterback.

Rules of the Heart: After coming out as gay, Alexa goes to live with her father in Oregon and ends up falling for Harley, who recently got out of an abusive relationship.

Title TBD: Broadway actress Olivia (Liz) Chandler meets Tomi Reign, the socialite daughter of Liz's new director. Sparks fly immediately, and supposed-to-be straight Liz can't deny that she has feelings for Tomi. Tomi herself is intrigued by Liz, who's cheeky and flirty personality is far from Tomi's usual type. But her usual type.... usually leaves her heartbroken and alone. She's more than happy to play along and be Liz's pet project as she explores her sexuality. It's not like she has anything better to do. Except things take a turn when real feelings begin to get involved, and neither of them really knows how to react to it.

All We Have (8 part series): Follows the life of childhood best friends, Aaliyah, Nicky, and Ryan, as they navigate their tumultuous familial, platonic and romantic relationships. Spans over the course of several years, from their early teens to their late 20's.

The Other Life: Penelope Carmichael has lived in the shadow of her best friend Kris Johnson for as long as she can remember. Kris is popular, beautiful, and perfect, and while Penn tries to be happy for Kris' success', she finds it difficult to shake her jealousy. On the eve of their 17th birthday, Penn and Kris get into a car accident, and Penn wakes up several weeks later to find herself in Kris' body, and her own nowhere to be found. As months go by and Penn remains trapped, with the real Kris seemingly gone forever, she slowly allows herself to adapt the life of the girl she always envied. However, Penn quickly begins to realize that Kris' reality may have been far off from the one everyone believed her to have, and that underneath her facade of perfection lies the haunting and tragic truth of a girl Penn realizes she never really knew.

UnSavior (stand-in title): 5 years after saving her world from imminent doom at the age of 16, Lina packs up and transports herself to another dimension: Earth, with the sole purpose of having a normal life where she isn't regarded as a Hero. However, her arrival to Earth has consequences. Lina doesn't realize that her absence from Ethera sparks an uprising amongst the warring nation of Xaida, who lost the Battle 5 years ago. Furious at the way they've been treated since and determined to avenge their fallen, those left of Xaida want to secure a better future for themselves, and they see Lina's absence as their opportunity. As Lina becomes more and more infatuated with her new life on Earth, caught up in the new experiences and friends it brings, a full out war is on the brink of breaking out in Ethera, and her old mentor Azi attempts to seek her out to draw her home to stop it before it has a chance to begin. But Lina has other plans; she still hasn't fully recovered from the scars the Battle left her with, and she doesn't want to leave Earth and the sanctuary she found there. As a revolution stirs up in Ethera, Lina must question everything: her identity, her loyalty to her nation, and the very people who made her who she is.

Title TBD: 4 college students recieve a series of mysterious emails from an anonymous sender, instructing them to commit several atrocious acts over the course of one night (12 hours) or risk having their secrets, each more damning than the last, revealed to the world.

#my wip #writerblr #writers on tumblr #teen writers #writers #writebrl #writing #ya writing #contemporary fiction #romance

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mindlessly-meme · 7 years

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Secret Identities

Peter Parker x Reader Request- Hi! Can you do a Spiderman x reader fic where the reader and Spiderman are best friends, but the reader is also Spiderman’s rival? And then they both find out about it? Thank you so much!!! I love your blog :D Warnings- language but what else is new A/n- anon didn’t specify what kind of power they wanted the reader to have, so i just gave them telepathy and teleportation, hope thats ok! Hope you enjoy! ~ You sat at the edge of the building, looking down at the city below. The cool wind blew, causing a shiver to run up your back as you focused all your energy into listening. You could hear the thoughts of every person in the city, just for a fleeting moment, barely registering in your mind before they were gone and the next one came. Nothing so far had caught your attention, until you suddenly heard the frantic thoughts of a woman who sounded like she was getting mugged. You were there in an instant. Before you, there indeed was a woman being robbed, along with two men, one collecting her things and the other pointing a gun at her. “Hey!” You shouted, but there was another voice mixed in there shouting at the same time, and looking over your shoulder to the roof above you, you saw none other than Spiderman. “Hell no.” You muttered, before teleporthing across the street to the woman. You grabbed the man who was holding the gun and spun him around to punch him, only for your raised fist to get yanked back, bringing you along with it. You spun around from the force and nearly fell to the ground. Letting out a growl of irritation, you pulled off the string of sticky webbing stuck to your hand. “You asshole! I was here first!” You shouted at the man in the red suit as you punched the other man who now had one of his hands webbed to the wall, but was thrusting at you with his knife. The woman had taken her things and fled the scene, and the man with the gun had managed to escape when you had been distracted. “I don’t think so. Now just teleport away and let the professionals handle this.” He retorted as he dodged a kick from you while dodging the knife from the man. “You always do this, and I know you do it just to make me mad.” you grunted, finally managing to knock the knife out of his hand you tried to keep him still so Spiderman could web him to the wall, when he shook you off and hit you straight in the jaw. “Now that’s no way to treat a lady,” Spiderman said webbing his hand and both feet to the wall, “But lucky for you, it’s just her.” You glared at him, wiping the blood from your mouth as you stood up, “I would have been fine if you hadn’t distracted me.” You growled. You didn’t have to read his mind to know that he thought you were weak, in fact, you never read his mind. Regardless of your less than friendly feelings towards each other, you respected his privacy. You also didn’t really care who he was, though when you had first met him, you had thought his voice was kinda familiar… But, you and Spiderman had never gotten along. Not since the first moment he had webbed you up thinking you where the bad guy, and thus let the real bad guy escape. “Sure, that’s your problem.” He said sarcastically. Clenching your jaw, you narrowed your eyes at him from behind your mask, “You are such a dick. I pity the people that have to spend more than five minutes with you.” You spat, turning to leave when suddenly you felt his webbing on your arm and you were being yanked to his side, nearly falling over from the force. Letting you a yelp, your mind registered the gun shot that had just rang out, and you saw the bullet had just grazed your arm. You were almost shot in the chest. You looked up at the masked man before you, neither of you saying a word, before you clenched your jaw and teleported away. ~ You woke up the next morning to someone knocking at your door. Your head was pounding and your arm hurt from where the bullet had hit last night, so you answered just to get the noise to stop, “What?” “Peter’s here. Should I have him wait downstairs?” Your mom called. “Ugh, no, just send him up.” You yelled back, rolling onto your stomach to hide your face in the pillow. In your moms thoughts, you could hear here thinking about how your room better not be dirty, and you better be dressed. Luckily, both those things were true. A minute later, there was another knock before Peter let himself in, “Hey sleepy head. You know its nearly noon?” You smiled sleepily at the boy before you, also know as Peter Parker, also known as you best friend. You two had been friends since the start of high school, when you both happen to be late to the same class and were pared up as partners for the whole year. “Ya, I know. I’m tired I was up super late last night.” “Tell me about it, me too.” He said, sitting on the end of your bed, “But now it’s time to get up cause there’s this new game out that I want and we are gonna go buy it.” “You say it like I don’t enjoy video game shopping with you.” You laughed, sitting up. He laughed at your bed head and left you to get dressed. In your closet hidden under a pile of various crap, was your suit and mask. Luckily it was black, so you couldn’t see the blood on the arm, but you were not looking forward to having to sew it up tonight. The wound on your arm, while not too deep, still hurt. You couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened last night. Your relationship with Spiderman was complicated to say the least. You two hated each other, yet he had still saved you. That of course got you thinking, if the roles were reversed, would you save him? “(Y/n) hurry up!” Peter shouted from downstairs. Shaking the thoughts of your night job out of your mind, you got ready and met Peter downstairs. “Took you long enough,” he chuckled and the two of you stepped outside and began the walk to the mall, “So what kept you up all night?” He asked. “You know, the usual, clubbing, bar hopping, meeting up with random guys.” you stopped at a cross walk and pressed the button. “Wow, and all I did was homework.” Hooking you arm through his as to not get separated in the downtown crowd, you two laughed. Letting out a small sigh, you leaned into your best friend, smiling. You loved what you did at night, and felt a great deal of pride in helping out those who were in danger, but nothing could compare to the little moments like these with your best friend. ~ “Mom! Where did you put my sewing kit?” You shouted, looking through the drawers of your bathroom. “Why?” She yelled back. “Cause I need it!” “What for?” “Mom I swear I’m going to lose it if you don’t-” You suddenly froze, the sound of the tv catching your attention. “Tension is high this evening as an unknown robber is holding a group of bystanders hostage in a bank. It had been reported that he is armed with multiple weapons including some type of bomb.” Grabbing your suit and mask, you pulled it on, “Mom! I’m going out!” Then you were gone. Reappearing behind the bank, you listened in. You could hear terrified thoughts of the hostages and the rushed, almost panicked rambling of a guy who was clearly the robber. You soundlessly entered the bank. The hostages were huddled in a group while the robber filled bags with money from the vault, his back towards you. Quickly you began to teleport the hostages out of the building, it was easier than you expected as the robber was not paying attention. You were down to the last two when you heard the voice of the guy you wanted to see least at this moment, alerting the robber of your presence “Wow, you must be really oblivious to loose a whole group of people without even noticing.” You stood up from your crouched position, “What the fuck dude!” Before the robber could even aim his gun, it was pulled out of his hand with webbing. Rolling your eyes and not bothering to stick around to hear his stupid comment, you took the last two and let them go on the street. You turned, ready to go home and continue your hunt for the sewing kit, when you heard one last thought in your mind. Well, if I’m gonna go down, I might as well take the Spiderman with me. You could see the images being played out in his mind, and without hesitation, you reappeared in the bank, grabbed Spiderman by his waist before teleporting out. You barely made it into the street before the building blew up, throwing you both to the ground. You were stunned, lying face first on the concrete. Your head pounded and your whole body ached. Coughing and groaning, you rolled onto your back. The whole street was filled with smoke, and you could see the bank was up in flames. To your left was Spiderman, also lying still on his back, but you could see his chest rising and falling. “Hey,” you huffed, “Are you conscious?” “Ya, just a little internal bleeding, that’s all.” Despite the circumstances, you smiled as he turned to look at you. But when his masked eyes met yours, you could see him tense up. You instinctively looked behind you, expecting to see someone there, but there was no one. When you turned back to him, he was sitting up. “(Y/n)...?” He breathed out. You gasped, reaching up to find the somehow during the explosion, your mask had fallen off and it lay on the floor a few feet from you, “Oh my god I- wait...you know me?” Slowly, he reached up and pulled off his own mask. “Peter...” you stared at each other, through the smoke, sirens in the background. You couldn’t believe it, your best friend, the guy you told everything, they guy you loved, was the same guy you couldn’t stand? Where did this leave you two? After a moment, you stood up and he followed, leaning on each other for support. His hand found yours, and in that moment you both knew that everything would be ok between you two. That nothing would change, and if anything you would come out of this stronger. “Lets go home.” you mumbled before the two vigilantes disappeared. ~ So i have a lot of peter parker request but i aint even mad i love him so much ugghhh anyways thanks for reading

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter x reader #peter imagine #spiderman #spiderman imagine #spiderman x reader #avengers #marvel

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