#i can almost excuse the curse you left me for this wholesomeness

[sailingonthewindowsill]

Content (An Our Flag Means Death Fanfic Snippet)

SPOILERALERT: This story contains quite heavy spoilers for Our Flag Means Death up to episode 10, be warned!

TW: Contains thoughts of physical violence and a lot of cursing

So, this is a little AU/thought play of how a certain scene of ep 10 might have changed if Izzy had not had his final outburst of toxic masculinity but somewhat more self-conciousness. Just needed to get that out of my system. You can keep spelling errors ;) (and please excuse any weird phrasing or strange sentences and punctuation, English is not my native language but I tried to do my best).

So, here we go,

enjoy!

I could not take it anymore. Not a second longer was I able to stand there in the corner, listening to Edward mumbling something about how wholesome it was to clean up the room. As if any of this mess would have been wholesome. Nothing of it even made sense: not the exquisit green and gold panelling of this far too luxurious quarters, not the stupid little library full of books whose gold-studded spines seemed to mock me whenever I had to enter this room; tantalizing and disgusting they laughed at me, a constant reminder of Bonnets presence, even if he himself now was finally gone. What he left behind was worse. A thousand disgusting, cheesy decorations, all the ornate candlesticks and figurines, screaming of the soft little rich boy who owned them, the drapings and curtains and tablecloths with their colourful patterns and exquisite embroidery, this aggregation of random stuff that had no actual business being aboard a fucking pirate ship.

What made this living hell even worse was the soft whisteling of my boss collecting empty rum bottles in what seemed to be a maidens basket, made only for delicate flowers or some more unnecessary cloth. The man I had sailed with for so many years and which I had now trouble recognizing in this in this new, much too tidy, almost juvenile appearance, drowning in the awful red robe whose mere existence would have made him choke back in the old days.

It made me choke. Looking at him hurt, even though I could not tell why exactly. Was it just the sickening softness that Bonnet’s presence had imprinted on him? Were it the shadows under his eyes that spoke volumes about what he had spent the last few days doing? The fact that he had been weeping for that ungrateful canaille who had left him behind at the first opportunity to return to his cushy, soft life without so much as a second thought about what he had abandoned? Of course I was glad to be rid of that unbearable imbecile. But as much as I hated to even think about it, the way Stede Bonnet had dumped Edward made me even angrier, if that was possible, than the alien man who was standing in front of me right now.

„Izzy?“

I totally had missed the question, trying to avoid the pathetic sight by reluctantly flipping through one of Bonnet‘s books. Not just any book, though. The letters on the cover had felt like a punch in the stomach and the lines blurred before my eyes as if I was blacking out – or was I crying? – as I came upon the illustration. An almost grotesque woodcut, rough, foreign, yet in a way so familiar that it hurt even more. Blackbeard, the caption read, but I could not bear to look at it, precisely because it was so accurate. Instead I tried to meet Edwards eyes, probably hoping to find some glimpse of that icy, frightful impatience, that on-the-edge tension I had seen so often when he called my name like that. It turned out to be a mistake.

No impatience, no anger, no trace of that slightly unsettling, deeply impressive, unwarranted wild fire that used to chill me to the bone. The familiar dark eyes looked completely different in the beardless, much too soft face. Their expression was itself far too soft. It was not Edward who was looking at me, it was Stede. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet, again. How I hated him.

Gripping the book tighter, my fingernails digging into the cover as if I wanted to tear it apart the same way it tore me apart, I stared back at that scumbag, desperately trying to find my voice again.

„I’m gonna speak plainly“, I declared more calmy than I would have thought possible, and took half a step toward him, maybe expecting - or hoping? - that he would come at me after all. But Edward only nodded mildly, still far too understanding, and added another bottle to his collection with a soft clink.

„Wonderful“, Stede Bonnet said with Edwards voice, „you know we share our thoughts on this ship.“

Again, I was so taken aback that it took me a moment to find the right words, and for a moment all I could do was stare at him, the way he patiently waited for my judgment, faintly smiling as though he expected me to say something nice. No sign of my captain, who had never given the least fuck about what his crew were thinking. But maybe that was exactly the problem.

„I should have let the English kill you.“ There it was, all my disappointment in that simple statement. It cut deep, I could see it in his face, the way he slightly rised is brow to the faintest knockoff of a scowl, but even more I felt it. As if my words were a double-edged blade and I just cut myself open. But I had passed the line now, so I might as well keep going. Wasn't that what Bonnet wanted? Talk it through as a crew. Only that I had never felt so alone.

„This – whatever it is that you have become – is a fate worse than death.“, I added, letting out all the contempt that consumed me from the inside out as if someone had set my guts on fire.

That little scoff, the hurtful smile that flashed over his face, it cut even deeper. He knows, it shot through my head, he knows exactly. Or was it my heart, throbbing with pain, cramping so badly I almost could not breath, now clasping that book like a lifeline, so anxiously waiting for the answer as if my life depended on it. In a way, it did.

„I am still Blackbeard“, that alien man declared with a glimpse of the familiar Edward-kind of confidence, maybe even the slightest hint of a warning trembling through his voice. Don’t try me, dog. It was almost there. But was it? Or was it just what I wanted to hear?

NO, I wanted to scream at him, dramatically ripping the page with the real Blackbeard out of that stupid book and throwing it into his face. This, THIS is Blackbeard!, it echoed in my head, my own voice, distorted with anger and pain, while Edward was just looking at the picture with this big, innocent, girly eyes as if he did not even recognize it. I wanted to hurt him so badly, let him feel all the rage that had built up over the last weaks, give back at least some of the pain it had inflicted on me watching him throw aside everything he was, throw me aside, me and the years of loyal service and what I had thought was friendship. All for the first best dumbass who happened to come along, simply because he was more interesting than anything I could offer him. Oh yes, I had deceived myself when I told Edward the story of how this incompetent idiot Bonnet had deprived me of my spoils by mere luck.

THIS is Blackbeard. Not some namby pamby in a silk gown pining for his boyfriend!

He would probably hear how jealous I was, and I hated the thought, but that was my fucking problem all along. And it would not matter. If he was right, if he told the truth – if he was Blackbeard after all – he would be at my throat before I would have finished my pining for the past, for the time when it had been just me and him against the world. It was so pathetic that I even felt this way, but far worse that I had let it come this far. I seriously had the wish to provoke him until I had the unmistakable proof before my eyes that he was still in there. I desperately needed to see him. My Edward.

Blackbeard is my captain, I would then go on, when I finally saw the cold fire in his eyes again, the beast that slumbered deep down in the abyss of his soul, the darkness that mothers warned their children about. The part of him that made me feel strong, almost invincible when he was around, even though it was frightening as fuck. I had learned to deal with it, even enjoy the thrill, to endure the omnipresent threat that he might turn against me the next second because I somehow failed him. I had even been proud that I could bear the tension, proud that he trusted me to channel and translate this concentrated amount of irrationality for the crew.

I serve Blackbeard. Not Edward. Edward better watch his fucking step. It was a promise, a promise of loyalty to my captain, but also to myself. Don’t let him become weak.

But it was a lie, wasn’t it? That was why it hurt so much. Because I had failed us. Even worse: I let him get hurt.

It is my job to make sure that Edward is content. The memory flashed through my head, leaving a burning trace behind my eyes that still had trouble to focus on a certain point. I had said it myself. Edward, not Blackbeard. As. It. Had. Always. Been. Had I not known all the time that Blackbeard was just a mask, as much theatre performance and acting as what Stede Fucking Bonnet had the nerve to call a fuckery? And he adores you, memory-Izzy went on, punishing me, Why, I will never understand, but he does. And then fucking Bonnet’s stupid, clueless face. This fucker hadn't even known what treasure he held in his hands. But I had not realized either.

Only now I could see that I had lost this battle long before. Even when I had challenged Bonnet to that duel, trying to finish Edwards unfinished business – trying to force him to keep up his play – I had already lost. All I had achieved was driving my captain, my friend, even further away – with my own fear of loosing him. Whoever he was, exactly, since my fantasy of him obviously was nothing more that that – a fantasy, the delusion of a lonely fool who was overwhelmed with his own darkness and therefore desperately needed someone even darker, even more dangerous by his side. Someone stronger. Safer.

That was why I hated „Ed“ so much. Because I could not relate in any way to that unsettling amount of kindness and goodness that Stede Bonnet had unearthed in the man I thought I knew oh-so-well, and I hated them both even more for the fact that I had not been able to do anything even remotely comparable for Edward. I could not let go of my idea of him because it would have meant to let go of my idea of who I was and that scared the shit out of me.

With a muffled clatter, the book fell from my numb fingers. It felt like hours that we had stood there in silence, Edward warily – or was he worried? – watching me as if he expected the attack I had launched in my mind. I was doing it again, wasn’t I? Making him put up his mask, for me. Locking myself out from the real person that was or was not Blackbeard. Not the Blackbeard I wanted him to be, at least. In a strange, twisted way he was making sure I was content. But wouldn’t that mean he needed me, after all? Wanted me here? I did not dare to ask.

„No“, I finally managed to say quietly, my own voice sounding strange to my ears, hollow and tired. It is my job to make sure that Edward is content, it echoed through my mind again. That was all I had ever been: his loyal dog. And if I could be content with that we might even be able to get over Stede Bonnet. Together.

„No, Edward, you are not.“, I declared, emphasis on his name, trying to make clear that it was okay without having to say it out loud. You don’t have to be Blackbeard, I am okay with that. It was the hardest thing I had ever done.

He stared at me, motionless, as if he could not comprehend the meaning of my words, while I slowly bent down to pick that damned book from the ground, open it up and carefully rip out the page with the picture before putting it back on the shelf where it belonged. Clasping the paper tightly so that he would not need to see that horrific idol I had made him, I gathered all the strength I had left for the words my own rage had made so terribly necessary.

„I’m sorry.“ Two and a half words, but they seemed to be stuck in my throat, clenching themselves into the flesh that very much deserved to be ripped open, harder to get out in the open than anything before. Apologizing seemed to become my new thing with the captain, apologizing from the horrible things that came out of my mouth when I was hurt. „Of course I don’t want the English to kill you. I’d rather die myself.“

I die seeing you like this, anyway.

Reluctantly, I turned to the door, deep down hoping – or fearing – he would say something instead of just looking at me with this obscure expression somewhere between hurt and wonder. Oh how I wished for I could take back everything I said before, and how at the same time I hated myself for that weakness.

„Let me know if you need something, Boss“, I said before I cut the retreat, scrapping up my last pieces of dignity to make it out of here before I could say anything stupid. My heart pounded painfully against my ribs for some reason, while I tried to think straight. What next? Get rid of that ugly picture and then – what? Leave for good? Or just –

„Iggy!“, exclaimed the last person on earth – why, besides Bonnet, of course – I wanted to see now, when I bumped into him just outside the captains quarters. Stupid fucking writer-boy.

„Fuck off, Spriggs!“, I spat into his grinning face with all the contempt I had the strength left for, and tried to make my way past him, but he blocked my path and sneered down on me in a way that stirred the desire to peel that fucking grin of his face piece by piece. Or feed him one of his oh-so-talented artist fingers. 

„Need a hug, little man?“

For a second, the absurdity of the question – not to mention the wording – froze me to the ground, leaving me even more speachless than the encounter with Edward had, but the stonehard ball of paper relentlessly cutting its way into my hand reminded me I had a task to fulfill. Yet still –

„Why the fuck –“, it was so ridiculous! – „Why would I want a fucking hug?“ From anyone, but you little slut in particular?!

Immediately, the boy swapped his stupid grin for his best bitch-please expression and somehow managed to make me even more angry, gesturing at my face in this annoyingly feminine way of his.

„Because“, he said softly, as if I were to stupid to understand, „you are crying, dizzy Izzy.“ He now looked almost friendly. Disgusting.

I glared at him, petrified, trying to look intimidating in some way, but the urge to punch him in the stomach was suddenly gone when I slowly realized – He. Was. Right.

„… FUCK.“

#our flag means death #ofmd fic #edward teach #blackbeard #dizzy izzy #izzy our flag means death #izzy hands #ofmd fanfic #ofmd au #ed x izzy #izzy hands fanfic

[dekuskacchan]

nO IM KIDDING HI BIRDIE WHAT DO U THINK OF IIDACHAKO

I FUCKING LOVE IIDACHAKO CODI THEY MAKE MY HEART SWELL SO BIG

also I SEE WHAT U DID

#i can never get enough of iidachako pls they're so good #i can almost excuse the curse you left me for this wholesomeness #i hate that i laughed how dare u be so funny #ask #codi 💕 #birdie blabbers #collisiondiscourse #bnha #iidachako

[moonrazeeclipse]

Day at the Amusement Park.

The last time I went to an amusement park was when I was 12 years-old. My memories have been mostly shaky, but what I can remember was the happiness and joy I felt with my mother and father.

It’s been tough for me to have fun these days. Being a 23 year-old working a typical nine-to-five shift made it difficult to have time for myself. Stressed about the quotas, the numbers, job stability, and everything else in between. Good sleep has eluded me for months.

Then I look at my girlfriend, Nicha, and my hope has never been brighter.

Ah, Nicha. Everyone else knew and recognized her as Minnie, but the closest to her called her by her real name. If I thought an average office job was a grindfest, then hers was a gauntlet. Idol life meant she had to be up as early as 3 A.M. and she’d run through several sets of makeup, practice, interviews, and appearances. During one of her off days she and her members visited my building while I just so happen to be on coffee break. One funny stare and the next thing I knew, we were hiding our relationship from the whole world.

No matter how exhausted she got, she kept that same positive, happy energy as if she had unlimited battery life. Each occasional glance as I drove to the old amusement park, she was beaming, singing along to the songs on the radio, like she were a child. This was one of her rare off days where they didn’t have any schedules, so maybe that’s the reason why she’s extra joyful too.

The park itself hadn’t changed much since I last visited all those years back. The entrance looked rusted and devoid of any life or color. There seemed to be way fewer people visiting as well. Nicha offered to take me to that newer park with those virtual reality simulators, but I turned it down with a chuckle, saying that I wasn’t making enough money to spend a day there. Regardless, we entered the place, her hand holding mine, dragging me with the brightest smile on her face.

Whatever she wanted to do, I followed along. Nicha ran ahead of me, acting like a child and not a famous, recognizable idol. Being around me must be freeing for her; she could be herself when I’m with her. None of the rides were renovated or refashioned, which gave me that nostalgic feel. Because there weren’t that many visitors, waiting only took less than ten minutes for each ride. Despite my motion sickness, I powered through the first roller coaster without a problem. The second one? I recalled hurling up minutes after getting off that one as a child. Nicha screamed her heart out on the first coaster, but was overcome by fear on the second. She leaned into my chest while I was fighting every urge not to puke mid-ride. I sought a barf bag once we got off, making her laugh.

“Ahaha! You look hilarious!” Nicha mocked.

“Why are you gloating? Don’t act like you were hiding your face on my chest.” I retorted. She blushed in embarrassment before pretending to run away. No matter how much she loved to make fun of me, I couldn’t get upset. Her wholesome smiles made her a great person to hang out with.

Walking along the park, we came across a row of booths. These booths offered challenges in exchange for prizes. Dad won me a basketball as a reward back then. Even with age, one of the game masters somehow recognized me by my eyes.

“Hey, hey! It’s been a long time! You’re all grown now!” He said, calling my attention.

“Oh, hey. How did you recognize my face?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You have your father’s eyes, that’s why! How’s he doing?” He changed the subject.

“Umm, great I guess.” I honestly didn’t know how to answer, since I haven’t spoken to him in years.

Nicha suddenly came in from behind and hugged me. The game master’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Oh! Is this your girlfriend? Why don’t you step up and show her your father’s talent?” He challenged me on the spot. I sighed as Nicha moved right next to me. Her beaming eyes and bright smile gave me more pressure to do well.

I was poor at sports, so I wondered how bad I’d mess up at ring toss. I didn’t have deft hands like my dad, and I wasn’t practicing at all. I’m better with keyboards, I murmured under my breath as he gave me the rings. First toss. The ring hit the bottle. My eyes widened. Second toss. The bottle was a little more distant than the first. I threw the ring and to my surprise, it hit too. Shock drowned out my girlfriend’s cheers and the yell of the game master. One more ring, one more toss. The bottle was placed at a greater distance compared to the earlier ones. I was doing better than I thought, so maybe my luck would run out on this turn. I flung the last ring, and time seemingly slowed down as I released it from my grip.

One, two, three, four, five. Bingo.

Nicha hugged me in celebration. I made all three tosses as the game master applauded me. Wow. Honestly, that may have been divine intervention, considering how awful I am at these games. It must have been five minutes before I moved because I stayed frozen in place, unable to let my victory sink in.

“You do have your father’s genes in you after all! Go ahead and pick a prize.” The game master said, snapping me back to reality.

I turned to Nicha, implying that she could choose the prize. She took the hint and pointed at a gigantic brown teddy bear. The game master grabbed it from the shelf and handed it over to me. I gave the stuffed animal to her, and she buried her face on its belly.

“Aaahh it’s so fluffy! You’re really good at this, Minki!” She cuddled the bear as I just chuckled and waved goodbye to the game master.

The rest of our day at the park was just riding the rest of the attractions and eating an ice cream sandwich along the way. Nicha and I had so much fun together, refusing to let go of the teddy bear. The sun had set and nightfall came, and our time was almost up. But before we left, there was one more ride we hadn’t gone in. The ferris wheel.

The passenger cabins were suited for four people, so we hopped on one, including our stuffed animal. She placed the bear next to her as the wheel began moving. From where I sat I could see the bright lights of the highway, overlooking the specks of people thousands of feet in the air. Nicha looked out the window before turning to me, taking my hand.

“I’ve had so much fun with you today,” she said, caressing my hand gently and pecking it. “Thank you.”

I gazed into her eyes, gleaming brighter than the stars in the night sky. She stared back at me, looking at me the same way. Then something sprung in me to lock lips with her. Nicha sunk into the kiss, pulling me close and our tongues swirled with each other. She was sweeter and tastier than dessert. I cupped her cheek and she placed her palm on mine, running it across her face.

She broke the kiss and slowly spread my legs. I panicked a little because of the situation we’re in. Nicha feigned ignorance and unbuttoned my pants, pulling them down alongside my boxers.

“Nicha! We’re still in public, remember?”

“Your cock says otherwise,” she replied, slapping my hardened cock with her hand. “I’ve been missing you so much. I can’t help myself.”

She seized my balls, giving them a rub. “You’re full. You’ve been missing me too.”

I groaned as she kissed me from my balls, making her way up to my tip. Her soft lips felt so good on my shaft. She looked at me with widened eyes, satisfied with the pleasure she’s giving me. I slumped into my seat and closed my eyes, allowing the euphoria of her swirling tongue to override my brain. If that wasn’t enough, she added her sensual moans into her slurps, giving me tingles up my spine.

My hands flowed through her black locks, while the rest of my body just numbed in pleasure. I didn’t realize she took me in her mouth, hollowing her cheeks. Nicha bobbed her head back and forth, coating my shaft with her saliva. We didn’t care if anyone caught us in the lewd act. Nicha had her way with me and my body happily fell under control.

Pop. She released me from her mouth after blowing me off for a while. I was really sinking into that excitable feeling too. Appropriate timing too, as she finished up just as the car was about to reach ground level. I quickly buttoned up my pants as she pretended like she didn’t suck my cock leaving the pod.

We reached my car just as the park was closing, and she gave me a few pecks on the cheek. “When we get home, I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Sure, baby. I’ll let you fuck me wherever you want.” The thought of her splayed body already riled me up and I couldn’t be any more excited to drive home.

I turned the key. Rough gruffs roared from the engine. Again. Gruffs. In frustration I slapped my hands against the steering wheel. The car couldn’t start. Fuck.

“I just had it checked last week,” I grumbled. It was second hand but I didn’t have any excuse. Nicha giggled. She was still smiling as she watched me suffer and curse my car out. Oh, no matter how terrible a day gets, you’re always the jovial one.

Conveniently there was a subway station nearby whose line started and ended at the park. We both got out of the car and decided to take the train home. Nicha still refused to let go of the teddy bear.

Entering one of the cars, we sat at the back end of the left row. All the walking wore our legs out, so I slumped down in my seat. Nicha set the bear at the corner chair before sitting beside me. Drowsiness began kicking in and soon enough, I fell into a deep sleep holding my girlfriend’s hand tightly.

I felt a sensation below my chest that woke me up. My eyes opened slowly, vision blurring my sight. I looked to my left and saw only the teddy bear. She probably went to the bathroom, I thought. I tried going back to sleep, but I felt that twitching in my stomach again. I looked down and to my surprise, my pants were on the ground. Nicha was on her knees, sucking my erect cock.

“Nicha! What did I say about doing this in public?” I whispered, trying to avoid causing a disturbance with the nearby passengers.

She responded by taking more of me into her mouth, making me moan with her humming sounds. “Mmph, I can’t help myself. Your cock rubbed on me as we slept.”

It took all of my willpower not to submit to pleasure, but I was able to scout the area. There weren’t a lot of people on this late train ride home, except a man wearing a business suit calling someone on his phone seated on the opposite aisle.

I slowly hopped from one chair to the next using the rail, keeping Nicha busy on my shaft without her letting go into it. My free hands lifted the stuffed bear from its seat and placed it to where I was sitting. The prized toy was huge enough to act as camouflage from unsuspecting train-goers.

“Yeah. Let’s discuss the business trip to Japan at the cafe. I’ll move up so you can spot me as I get off,” the man said as he stood up from his seat and trudged to the front.

I sighed a breath of relief, but that was only a temporary win. I looked below to see how Nicha was doing and my eyes widened. She stripped off her overalls as her bare legs were now exposed.

“Nicha!” I almost screamed, panicking at the situation she’d got us into. She giggles at my reaction before kissing my tip with her soft lips.

“While you were busy covering us up I took my overalls off. I really can’t wait for you to fill me inside.” She said matter-of-factly.

I groaned in annoyance but I couldn’t help myself. She was opening herself and I guess my patience ran out too.

“We still have a few more stops to go before our stop,” She added, stroking me with her fingers.

My psyche crumbled under her control again. I resisted her lips, but not her hands rapidly pumping my cock. I threw my head back and allowed the pleasure to jack my brain, grazing my hands on her hair again.

I must have drowned deeply to the delight of Nicha’s handjob that I ignored the dings and voice of the operator over the speaker indicating the train’s destination. My eyes, struggling to open, somehow caught a glimpse of a few new passengers entering the car. Quickly I bent over and took her overalls as well as my large coat and veiled my crotch. She continued jerking me off under the covers, eager to get me to orgasm. The commuters gave me either  weird or neutral looks as they walked by. I gave them a gaze of exhaustion, pretending as if I was ill. I just hope they didn’t notice the suspicious bulge below me.

Most of the travelers moved onto another cabin but some of them sat a few rows behind or ahead of ours. Thankfully none decided to sit in the same aisle as us. My hands, which were positioned on my lap, were grabbed by Nicha. She led it down to her clit and I felt her wetness. Even with some bush she was clearly dripping.

“Fuck me, please,” She whispered, each word laced with lust. “I’m so wet for you, babe.”

I hoisted her from the floor and she wrapped her legs around my waist as I rose for a minute before sitting down with her on me. I carefully lined my shaft against her crotch before burying my cock in her walls. She let out a lengthy, low moan as I started ramming into her tight pussy. My hands snuck through her shirt, pinching her taut nipples, making her squeal.

I could feel her juices cream my hair as I grinded back and forth, making sure she feels every inch of my length. One hand escapes her shirt to cover her mouth, preventing her from letting out wild screams. I pulled her face close to mine, her features indicating pleasure as our lips met for a shaky, passionate kiss.

As we continued making out my eyes caught a glimpse of a stewardess slowly making her way across the cabin, punching passengers’ tickets. I broke the kiss off and drove Nicha into my chest, bundling our bodies with her overalls and my coat. The attendant reached us, her formal smile shifting to a confused look at the weird image ahead of her.

“Oh I’m sorry, is she okay?” She asked matter-of-factly.

“Y-yeah. She’s just a little ill, so I’m warming her up, that’s all.” I answered, nodding repeatedly.

Nicha sold my act by freezing in my arms. I reached into my coat and pulled out two tickets. She punched them and smiled as she walked by, believing my lie.

My girlfriend looked me in the eyes, lust ridden over them. I squeal as her finger reaches my cock, still buried in her soaked cunt, stroking me off. Through the pleasant sensation I managed to keep my eyes alert, watching the passengers slowly leave one by one at the next stop. Now it was just the two of us in this cable car.

“We’re alone. Fuck me,” She said as the train started moving again.

Perhaps her eagerness drove me to thrust into her a lot faster than I thought. I rocked back and forth on the chair, drilling her with my shaft. Nicha closed her eyes and let the pleasure fill her, her mouth making a wide ‘O’ shape. At this point we ran out of care for our surroundings, made clear by our audible moaning. Her hands claw my nape and hair deeply, her slender figure bouncing up and down my lap.

The tightness of her pussy, as well as her soft, seductive moans made it hard for me to keep control. I was losing another round to her lewdness and this one would be the hardest of them all. I was all but ready to climax, only slowing down my pumps to keep the euphoria last longer.

“F-fuck, I’m going to cum,” I whispered.

“On me. Fill me, please. Fill me with your cum.”

One. Two. Three. With a heavy groan I reached my peak. I felt shots of warm semen fill her womb. I pumped through my orgasm, shooting flecks of cum in her until I was drained. My hips stopped grinding. I put my head down in exhaustion over that intense, risky session. She cupped my face then kissed me on the cheek.

“T-that was s-so g-good. I can’t wait until we get home for more.”

There’s a clear trail of white on my chair and on my pants. My cock slipped out of her slit as I set her down on the ground.

“This is the last station! Thank you for riding with us.” The operator announced over the intercom. We’re almost at our destination.

I pulled her overalls off my coat and threw it at Nicha. “Put these on, we still have to walk home.”

“I don’t wanna,” she pouted. “I want to go home with your cum dripping down on me.”

I sighed. Nicha decided to be bratty on the way home, when everything was almost perfect and after all we’ve been through. But what else can I do?

I gave her my coat as I took her overalls and placed it in my bag. We got off the train with her wearing my coat, our mixed juices still running down her legs. We enjoyed our little walk home, having forgotten the prized teddy bear that she was attached to all day long, but that didn’t matter. As soon as we reached home, we stuffed our bodies into each other throughout the night.

—————

And that’s my first work done. I didn’t do a lot of editing as I was excited to publish this one. I finally decided to jump into the world of smut writing after being inspired for a while now. Thank you for reading!

#kpop smut #smut #g idle #minnie

[wakaoujisenhime]

Hello there! I love your writing so much! ❤️ And I have a request! Scenario with Kirishima on a mission with his fem s/o, whose quirk is solar energy, she can absorb the suns energy, store it within her body for use when it’s needed, and use it to attack either with bright light to temporarily blind an enemy or condense the energy tightly together to create burning physical attacks. She saves a citizen but gets badly hurt for it. It almost kills her but in the end she survives and fully recovers

A/N: Thank you for your sweet words! This is a really cute scenario you came up with and I hope that you like what I made of it! Please enjoy! (*⁰▿⁰*)/

Tags: Kirishima x reader ✅  SFW ✅  fluff ✅  angst ✅

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My light - Kirishima x reader

Big hands wrapped around your body as they adjusted the creme-yellow belt of your hero costume. With an amused gaze you watched as your red-haired lover struggled to perfectly align every single detail of your clothing with his big hands until you couldn’t help yourself anymore and began to giggle.

“Don’t laugh (Y/N), you know that I’m not good with this!”

“And yet you still insist on helping me with it,” you answer with a smile on your lips as you softly remove the man’s hands from you an squeeze them. As if to return your gentle touch he brought your hands to his lips and made sure to kiss every single knuckle, making you blush in embarrassment in the process.

“Are you ready?”

His sudden question took you by surprise, but after a couple of seconds you nodded confidently.

——

Both, Kirishima and you stood next to each other slightly nervous about what your superior had called you in his office for. The blond man in front of you looked over some documents before finally lifting his gaze, a grin immediately spreading along his mouth.

“Well hi there you two, there’s no need to be that nervous, you know? C’mon, loosen up a little!”

The two of you did as told and relaxed your tensed up muscles, after which you spoke up, asking the pro hero in front of you why he had wished for a meeting in his office.

Usually, Fat Gum wasn’t one that sticked to formalities, such as calling his workers - or in your case, heroes - to his office for a talk. He preferred to casually bring it up whenever he met with the person(s) in question, and that’s why Kirishima and you were so surprised when Tamaki had asked you to go to the main office for a talk with the boss.

Luckily, he was quick to realize that you both were pretty nervous so he immediately began explaining. It was truly a relief to hear that all he wanted to share with you were the details for a joint mission the two of you would be taking care of the following day. He gave you all relevant details and as always asked you to be careful and try to not get yourselves injured. With a promise to watch out for each other and be as careful as always Kirishima and you left your superior’s office and began reviewing all the relevant papers he’d given you. You were motivated and happy to finally have a mission with your beloved, since not only were you a great team but just being by his side during dangerous missions made you feel safe and somewhat relieved. While you looked at the red-haired man’s profile as he scanned over the paper in his hands, you promised yourself to make this mission a success.

——

Ah! It’s Red Riot and Sunshine!

E-Excuse me Red Riot sir, can I have your autograph?

Thank you two for always watching out for us!

Miss Sunshine, can I have a selfie with you?

After answering all questions and attending to everyone’s requests the two of you resumed your walk. Being stopped by people who treat you like some famous actors was nothing new to the two of you since this wasn’t the first joint mission you took on and yet you were always overwhelmed by the amount of love and support everyone showed you. But what made you even happier was seeing how Kirishima reacted to it all.

The way his cheeks became redder, his slightly stuttering but nonetheless loud voice, how big his eyes got whenever a fan of his showed him the merch they’d bought, and many other small and adorable things you noticed were simply heartwarming. As his lover you knew more than anyone how much effort he puts into his hero career and just how ambitious he follows through with the goal to step into Crimson Riot’s footsteps, so seeing his hard work being rewarded made you extremely happy.

A couple of minutes passed and you slowly had to resume your patrol, so you unobtrusively signaled your red-haired companion to wrap his talk up. The disappointment of his fans didn’t last as long as you’d presumed it would, but who could blame them when Kirishima flashed that sharp but angelic smile instead of bidding them a proper farewell.

“My bad (Y/N), I got quite caught up talking with them about their t-shirts!”

You giggled and pat his shoulder a few times before answering: “There’s nothing for you to apologize about, in fact I can’t really blame you since…the new collection of yours looks pretty cool”

Even though you had whispered the last part of your sentence, the man next to you heard it nonetheless and couldn’t help but smile broader than he already was. The moment he parted his mouth to give you an answer, a sudden explosion some meters away from you interrupted the wholesome moment you were having. You two immediately ceased your idle chatter and switched over to your hero personalities. While you began to evacuate the nearby pedestrians, your boyfriend rushed to the explosion site and helped the injured people out. Your eyes followed the backs of the innocent citizens as they ran away from the smokescreen that was enveloping the massive frame of Kirishima, who was holding onto staggering and hurt pedestrians as he brought them to safety.

Before you could go and help him out a figure caught your eye and just as you were about to call out to them, they turned the corner and ran into an alleyway. “Hey! Hold it!“ you shouted and almost immediately took chase, ignoring the young man’s worried screams behind you, pleading for you to at least wait for him and not do anything too rash. You heard him and nodded to yourself, repeating his warning inside of your head as you continued your chase.

Surprisingly enough, the person before you wasn’t as quick as you had expected so it wasn’t that hard to keep up with him and just as you were about to take a hold of their arm they cut the corner yet again. You spit out a curse before following the new route of the suspicious individual and that’s when the worst case scenario happened.

Just a few steps in front of you was a young school girl who was talking to someone over her mobile phone and because of that she failed to notice the two of you approaching. You shouted out a warning but her reactions were unfortunately too slow and allowed the suspect to grab her and hold a knife to her throat.

“D-Don’t come any closer or else this girl’s death will be your fault!”

Without much hesitation you obeyed and stopped, using the moment of silence to asses the situation as well as take a proper look at the person you had just chased. It appeared to be a middle aged man and judging by his wide eyes and slightly trembling hand you deduced that he wasn’t used to threatening people like that.

Perfect, I just need to calm him down and hope that words will be enough…I’d really like to avoid using my powers

As you thought that you glanced up at the sky where the sun was shining brighter than you’d ever seen it in the past few days and if you were being honest, it worried you a little. Your quirk was the accumulative type and allowed your body to store solar energy, allowing you to use it at your discretion, but it came at a cost. To put it simply, the brighter and stronger the sun shone, the more dangerous and taxing your power was on your body. You took a deep breath to calm yourself and began reasoning with the man who faced you.

“Sir there is no need for you to get other people involved, we can clear this misunderstanding between us, ok?”

You spoke slow but with a firm voice so that neither the man got more agitated than he already was nor scare the innocent girl any further. And indeed the man relaxed his grip ever so slightly but the moment you wanted to continue with your plan of calming him down the young girl screamed out for help and began struggling desperately.

“No…! Don’t-”

But before you could warn her to not make anything rash it was too late. The girl’s thrashing about ended up hitting the man behind her a few times, which resulted in him finally losing his patience and the moment you saw him raise his hand, in which he held the knife, you immediately activated your quirk and shouted: “Close your eyes!”

Fortunately for you, your message reached the recipient it was meant for and when you confirmed that the female student had obeyed your order, you released a portion of the energy you had collected from today’s sunshine and blinded the man. While he was stumbling back screaming, you used the short timeframe to grab the girl’s hand and start running.

“Ok I need you to listen and obey everything I’m about to tell you, got it?” you asked and waited for her affirmation first before you continued, “Run as fast as you can back to the main street and there you’ll meet the sturdy hero Red Riot, a muscular, tall, and red-haired young man, who’ll keep you safe while I take care of that man, ok? Now run!”

You normally would’ve gone with her, but your previous move took more out of you than expected, so you chose to leave her safety to your trusted lover while you won them some time.

The man’s quick and heavy steps were closing in on you, so you prepared yourself to attack once again if necessary. With the plans to either stun him a second time so that he can’t see where he runs or inflict a burn on one of his kneecaps to slow him down, you turned to face him.

“O-Oh my god…why didn’t you….? T-This can’t be happening! I-I….I have to g-get away from here!”

“Not s-so fast…” you utter as you hold onto his hand and your body temperature begins to rise. In a swift and quick motion you kick his shin, causing his knee to buckle and used that small timeframe to bring this man down, ultimately pinning him to the ground with your leg on top of his chest, and your hands tightly gripping his wrists. In order to make him surrender completely you released your powers and that energy caused slight burns on each body part you had come in contact with. You had to use and control your power which was pretty taxing to your body. Your vision slowly grew blurry and that’s when you remembered the small “promise” your loved one had made to you as you ran off.

Aah…Eijiro, please hurry up..

“(Y/N)!”

Hearing the familiar voice echo behind you just mere moments after you had thought of him made you smile in relief. You took one last glance at the knife which was deeply buried inside of your lower stomach before closing your eyes and embracing the darkness that had tried to claim you this entire time…

——

P-Please, you need to save her! I-I’ll do anything, so please-!

Sir I need you to calm yourself down, you’re bothering the other patients.

We first need to perform a checkup on her, s-

I don’t care what you have to do, j-just please!

That’s enough out of you shitty hair, let the doctors handle it and meanwhile we’ll wait outside!

While your consciousness drifted back and forth you could make out a couple of voices near you and one of them belonged to none other than Kirishima.

“E-Eijiro…”

You felt a big hand tightly wrap around your own and squeeze it slightly, but before you could do or even say anything else, your vision once again blackened.

——

Calloused fingers caress the back of your hand as the tall man kisses your bandaged knuckles. His empty stare fixated on your sleeping form and the peaceful way you just lied there managed to put him at ease for at least a couple seconds before once again realizing the harsh truth of how grave you had been injured by that man and your own quirk.

“You idiot…I told you to be careful and not overdo it, didn’t I?” he silently whispered in front of himself as he used his free hand to stroke your cheek ever so gently. Since your hospitalization he remained practically glued to your side, refusing to miss even a single update on your condition, if it weren’t for his friends to literally drag him out of your room so that he gets something to eat or simply see the summer sun he would be in an even worse condition than right now. He was aware that he was a burden to others and that he behaved immaturely, but every time he tried to cheer up for their sake or simply try to worry less, he’d remember that day of the incident.

The scene of your back facing him while you were apprehending the man who had ran off seemed normal at first, but as soon as he was merely a couple of steps away from you, you had fallen forward right on top of the other man’s chest. He began panicking and apologizing frantically, saying stuff like I didn’t mean to do it or why didn’t she dodge, and that’s when he noticed the abnormal amount of blood that had stained the other man’s shirt…

While your lover recalled the unpleasant and rather traumatizing event, he failed to notice the way your facial features tensed up and your eyes slowly fluttering open. At first you couldn’t really feel your body, so all you did was glance around and quickly came to the conclusion that you were in a hospital room. All you could hear except the silence that surrounded you were the steady breaths of someone who most likely stood pretty close to you. Just as you were about to try and move your body a sudden voice stopped you in your tracks.

“I’m sorry (Y/N) for being late…I-I should’ve hurried up and come to y-your aid quicker, t-then you wouldn’t have had to use your ability to that extend and e-even wouldn’t have gotten stabb– god, forgive me…”

His shaky voice was full of sorrow and guilt and as if that wasn’t painful enough for you to hear, Kirishima even squeezed your hands tighter than before and put them up to his forehead. The man continued muttering apology after apology and with each one he got sadder, so you finally decided to speak up.

“If you continue squeezing my hand like that it’ll never recover, you know?” you joked with the most cheerful voice you could muster and even though it ended up sounding more raspy, it achieved the surprise effect you were going for. Wide red eyes, filled with nothing but relief stared at your smiling face.

The man next to your bed got up so quickly that his chair fell over, he was so overwhelmed with the fact that you were awake that he didn’t know what to do first. Call the doctor and the nurses over? Ask you about your condition? Embrace you? Lecture you? Cry?

In order to take most of his nervousness away, you gently tugged on his hand and smiled up at him with glassy eyes.

“Ei, I missed you.”

One single tear rolled down his cheek and as realization slowly downed on him the stream of tears didn’t stop flowing down his face. He bend down to you and as gently as he could wrapped his arms around you, hiding himself in the crook of your neck.

A couple of minutes had to pass by until he was capable of properly talking to you and knowing just how worried he had been you figured that he’d most likely start lecturing you, but as you saw him push the button next to your bed that was supposed to notify the hospital staff in case of an emergency, you gave him a confused glance.

“(Y/N), I’m pretty sure that you know what I want to tell you and I hope that you’re aware of just how mad I am, but,” he paused and looked directly at your face, but to you it seemed like he glanced at something beyond you. After what felt like an eternity of torturing silence he finally resumed his initial thought with a somewhat sad smile: “…the only thing I’m most thankful for is the fact that you’re alive and well.”

A gentle knock on your door and the entry of the nurse interrupted your discussion. After she checked in with Kirishima you watched as he slowly left your room…

——

“Ok, then Miss Sunshine one last sign and you’re free to leave.”

You sign the last document she’d given you and smile, thanking her for everything they’d done for you. She simply smiled and humbly shook her head. “Miss I’m simply doing my job…just like you. Thanks to every hero’s efforts I can feel safe…and if by treating your injuries I can contribute to your well-being and performance then I’d gladly do so.”

With flushed cheeks, you chuckle at her words, and just as you were about to leave she stopped you.

“But if I may give you an advice for the future…please refrain from such reckless actions again. This wasn’t the first time you came here because of your quirk’s effects on your body…but this time was the worst. I don’t know what lead you to drive yourself beyond your body’s limits, but you standing right here in front of me in such good condition is nothing short of a miracle.”

Silence.

“She knows that.”

The two of you turned to the person who’d just butted into your conversation and as expected it was none other than your boyfriend, who was standing behind you. He carefully wrapped one arm around your waist and held out a beautifully arranged bouquet to you with his other one. You took the flowers and blushed as you whispered a short thank you to him. With his usual broad grin, he kissed your cheek and took the bag you were carrying, slumping it over his own broad shoulder.

The two of you bid the nurse and her colleagues farewell as you slowly headed for the exit. She watched your backs as you walked past the entryway and focused on the man’s smile which seemed to never falter, as she recalled his words the day you had been rushed to the hospital right before his blind friend had brought him away…

I know that it’s not my place to say this, but please save her…

I’m begging you…

Please save my light…

#bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha fluff #mha fluff #bnha angst #mha angst #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #━𝙱𝙽𝙷𝙰 #━𝙼𝙷𝙰 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

[cuinnamonbun]

The brothers being accidentally in love with the Muslim even though they can’t be with them... would they lowkey convince the MC or would they sulk lol

(Say if it goes for both ways, MC is a hopeless romantic lowkey lmao)

OOF. So much angst. This one is a real brain teaser, I had to read SOO many tragedy poetry and fics to get the feeling so excuse the sentimental writing LMAO. A bit of warning though, I feel as though the brothers are OOC in this which is seriously messing me up, but I didn’t want to leave you bare-handed!

I feel like this HC requires a bit of context in order for people to understand why I wrote the brothers’ reactions the way I did. So I’d like to iterate the fact that I, too, am a hopeless romantic and I definitely believe love can change even the most difficult man. I’ve always had this HC in the Obey Me! universe that every creature is fallible and that the brothers, once fallen, are now much more vulnerable to these new emotions than when they were angels since they’re no longer bound to the service of God y’know? 

So with that in mind, onwards to the HC!!

p/s: I’ll post the little brothers’ reactions soon, hope you liked this :)

How the Brothers React to Accidentally Falling in Love with a Devout Muslim MC (Big Brothers)

Lucifer

At first, this man will pursue MC for not-so-wholesome gains (cough corruption kink cough). Lucifer is a very decisive man. He knows what he wants and unashamedly goes after it and he will stop at nothing until it’s rightfully his

But in his pursuit, I could see him actually, really, really falling in love with MC

It’s their pure, kind soul that attracted him initially as with all the other demons, but the more time he spends with them, the more he gets sucked in until all he wants and craves is MC

It’s almost heart-warming if not a bit concerning

However in his chase for MC’s affection, Lucifer would forget one crucial detail: MC is a Muslim, one whom is devout especially now having seen angels, demons and hell right in front of their eyes and when he accidentally witnessed them praying, he will just shut down and instantly remember that they are not meant to be

To put it simply, it’s illogical for them to even be together

When the realisation dawns on him, he immediately turns a full 180 and become a massive dick to MC, even borderline cruel that shocks the brothers

If MC confessed their love to him, Lucifer’s heart would soar in happiness, but his pure, unadulterated love for them would force him to push them away and tell them that he doesn’t reciprocate their feelings

But I could also see his Pride taking factor into this.

A prideful demon such as he, who willingly defied God and fell from Heaven, he would absolutely REFUSE to have his partner so dedicated to God. 

It won’t sit well in him at all and it will absolutely leave a bad taste in his mouth

But this doesn’t change the fact that he’s still in love with them, a fact which he DESPISES and is DISGUSTED by

When they left the Devildom, Lucifer would do what Lucifer does best: repress his feelings. That, or take it out on Mammon lol

But seriously though, he would need an outlet for his anger, heartbreak and yearning and he would most definitely drown himself in work or by punishing his brothers.

He can pretend all he wants that he’s fine, but Lucifer’s cues are pretty easy to read especially since MC has managed to get the demon brothers’ to bond with and understand each other deeper beyond surface level (a miraculous feat, kudos to our MC), the others can definitely tell that there’s some serious repression going on

But Lucifer gets very snippy whenever the brothers try to help him with it, which irritates the HELL out of them and they would be too annoyed with him to even bother helping him now 

Now that his pride has driven away both the very person whom he loves and his brothers, Lucifer will become even more withdrawn and far, far lonelier than he was before MC came into their lives

Sometimes, he curses the circumstances that led them to him, even if they were the best thing that ever happened to his family

Yeah, heartbroken!Lucifer is just ;((( (Alexa play bitches broken hearts by miss billie eilish)

Mammon

This man is a capital S simp.

Mammon gets attracted to anything shiny/pretty REALLY easily (after all, it’s one of the main reasons why his symbolic animal is a crow) so him being attracted to MC at first didn’t really come as a surprise

I think he knows the difference between finding someone attractive and actually being in love with them despite having never even fallen in love before

He’s lived for centuries and plus, his own sister loved a human, he’s certain he has never felt that for anyone before

Him realising that he’s in love with MC would definitely come as a shock to him though. This tsundere can deny it all he wants, but he can’t deny the fact that MC’s mere presence alone gives him serenity and cardiac arrest at the same time

His initial reaction when he comes to terms with it would definitely be to flee and avoid MC like they’re the plague. But this man pines and when he does, his sin will flare up and MC will find themselves with a very clingy Avatar of Greed by their side

To Mammon, being in love is the equivalent of stepping outside of your home for the first time in weeks and feeling the gentle warmth of the Sun caressing your skin

He is gentler, more compassionate, and more attune to MC’s feelings. He definitely places them above Goldie because they are his most prized possession, the keeper of his heart, the rarest jewel and like everything he treasures, he takes extremely good care of them. But he would NEVERRR let MC or his brothers EVER know about that (sike, everyone knows it, he’s so soft for them it’s so obvious. They find it endearing though)

Which is why when he remembers that they’re Muslim and that they worship God, the very deity he curses and rebel daily against, his heart would break

He isn’t stupid (well, not all the time), he’s lived in the Celestial Realm before. He has seen the humans who reside there once they pass their mortal life. They were infinitely exuberant compared to the ones who were condemned to a lifetime of punishment in the Devildom for their sins

And he could never doom them like that, it would hurt him to see his love miserable and depressed down in the Devildom even if he would want nothing more than for them to be together forever

So, he would bottle up his feelings and try his best to live in the present and enjoy what little time he has with them, even though he felt like that entire year passed by in a flash (which, in demon years, is most definitely like the blink of an eye)

If MC reciprocates his feelings, I can picture him being so, so joyful about that fact, but he knew that their romance is a tragedy right from the beginning. He is a fallen angel, he can’t change his nature and he has transgressed against God in the worst possible way; by swearing eternal enmity towards Him.

I can’t picture him getting over them, even after they’ve passed and are thriving in the Celestial Realm

omg I'm gonna sob Alexa play Smile by Juice WRLD

Leviathan

We all know that Levi thinks of MC as his Henry, his number one best friend

And he’s right. There were no instances of their hangouts being anything more than platonic

When he first started falling for MC, he’d deny it like Mammon did

Him? In love with his best friend? Preposterous.

Eventually he’ll come to realise it though because they were probably watching hilarious videos on the Internet (cough Buzzfeed Unsolved cough) and Levi was so distracted because he was just staring at MC laughing suuuper hard at the video in pure awe. Like his lil demon heart just went doki doki

Pure joy is so beautiful on people and seeing it on MC?? They were  pulchritudinous

But even after coming to terms with it though, Levi becomes SUUUUPER shy and embarrassed about that fact that for the first few days, he avoided them because he couldn’t compose himself in their presence

Eventually our beautiful demon of envy will snap out of it by MC cornering him and tearfully telling him that they miss his company 

So now they spend even more time together and Levi will slowly become more confident around MC

This means soft, shy touches turn into ‘accidental’ brushes against them then to full lingering touches until finally, he becomes confident enough to throw his arms around them in a hug

Unfortunately, depending on the gender identity of MC, this may not fly all that well

In Islam, contact between opposite sexes whom you have no familial relation to/are not married to is considered a sin (I can elaborate in another post if anyone is interested in it though) and MC will have to politely turn him down, but this doesn’t mean that they hate him. It’s far, far from that

They have to be gentle in their explanation to Leviathan. This man’s self esteem is so low that if MC were to ever recoil from his touch, it would send him into a shame spiral and self deprecating thoughts that is much, much worse than before

So MC will have to remind him that they are Muslim, that they are bound to the services and will of God.

This reminder will destroy him though and his sin will absolutely consume him

He would become so, so envious of God that someone as amazing and wonderful as his MC is so dedicated to Him, and in his envy, comes wrath.

Though his wrath is not as potent as Satan’s, it is enough for him to act irrationally and ruin his friendship with MC

He just couldn’t stand to be around them because all he wanted to do is to hold them, kiss them and love them and his envy for them will become too much that he will start to breakdown because of it

I do picture him being a yandere though with his being the Avatar of Envy. If MC returns his feelings, it might be best that they keep it to themselves and not make it known because this man WILL latch on to them and never let them go

He would absolutely turn them against God if it meant he gets to be with them for eternity even after they die

#obey me! shall we date? #obey me #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me mammon x mc #obey me levi x mc #muslim!mc #obey me x muslim!mc #swd lucifer #swd mammon #swd leviathan #wow levi's went from super wholesome to super dark real quick #angst

[css1992]

Such a softer sin

Summary: Tony is a self-made man. Peter is a sugar baby – someone else’s sugar baby.

When he turned to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

Warnings: Explicit, 18+, mentions of non-con (not between main pairing, not explicit), age gap, power imbalance, employer/employee relationship, underage drinking. If you find anything triggering, please let me know!

Word count:18.4k

-x-

He was admittedly gorgeous, Tony could give him that. The honey brown eyes, the bouncy, fluffy curls and the clear, pale skin worked perfectly in his favor – he looked the part of the innocent, wholesome, young man ready to be swept off his feet and taken care of. Powerful men often liked that act, liked believing that they were deflowering innocence for the first time, liked believing they were wanted, needed. Tony knew better, though, he knew the type, he came across people like him all through his life.

When he was a broke, orphaned, half-starved college student, they wouldn’t give him the time of  day. Snobby, pretty, little things like him only had eyes and time for those who had money, or something to offer – fame, influence, status. At the time, Tony had nothing, he could barely afford to eat everyday. After he graduated from MIT, he started working for Hammer Industries and as he started making more money, slowly, these people started taking notice of him, and he, too, started paying closer attention to them.

They weren’t difficult to spot either, they were usually young, attractive, with beautiful, fake smiles, weak personalities and a penchant for expensive gifts. It was easy to recognize them hanging off powerful men’s arms at functions, and dinners, and galas; bespoke suits or designer dresses covering their bodies, not a lot to add to the conversation. They were accessories, trophies. Pets.

Tony hated them. People who wanted to be at the very top, but couldn’t be bothered to take the stairs. They would use their pretty faces, feigned innocence, beautiful bodies and cute, fake laughs, to get farther faster. Not Tony. He did it the right way – the hard way –, worked day and night to get to his goal, got beat down so many times there were days he thought he wouldn’t be able to stand back up, but he did, every single time.

And time and experience made him wiser, smarter and bitter. At 40, he was finally able to start his own company, Stark Industries, it started small, but his genius inventions put his name on the map fairly quickly. That was how, five years later, he found himself having dinner with Norman Osborn, the most powerful man in New York, and his – boy toy? Sugar baby? Escort? Or something – discussing the possibility of a deal so big it could finally make Stark Industries live up to its full potential.

“So what I’m saying is that we can offer you the best and most advanced technology out there: my nanobots. I guarantee you it will make your job easier, faster and cheaper in the long run. I assure you, this a great deal and you should take it.” Tony was absolutely sure of what he was saying, he knew his product was good, his tech was flawless, he just needed to get it out there. He just needed a company like Oscorps to believe in him, then his work would speak for itself.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Stark, I think this whole nanotech thing is way too expensive and unnecessary, specially considering that I’m pretty sure Baintronics could do the same work for half the price, the old-fashioned way, which has been working just fine for the past decade.” Fuck, no, that old bat wasn’t looking at the big picture, he wasn’t thinking about the long run. Of course old tech would still get the job done, but Tony’s tech could do such a better job and so much more efficiently.

“No, but you see, that’s–”

“But –“ Norman raised a hand, successfully shutting Tony up and annoying the living hell out of him in the process. One day, he thought to himself, one day I’ll be able to say ‘fuck you’ to men like Norman Osborn. One day. “I’m willing to give it a try. Peter here says you’re the best at what you do, he’s the one who recommended that I agreed to meet with you, actually, when your PA called.”

Tony was taken aback by that information and eyed the young man carefully, causing him to blush a deep red and lower his gaze with a small, timid smile. Tony thought he was faking the whole thing, trying to be cute and sweet, but fuck – it worked for him. He seemed really young, maybe in his early twenties, and Tony had no idea how he could have heard of him, he wasn’t exactly famous, nor was S.I. His breakthroughs were only ever published in very specific scientific journals.

“I’m a huge fan of your work, Mr. Stark, I’ve always told Norman you two should work together, you’re both men ahead of your time.” He said quietly. He had a high-pitched, slightly feminine voice, which probably also worked in his favor with men like Osborn. It made him sound younger than he probably was, easier to manipulate and dominate.

Reluctantly, Tony accepted the compliment with a tight smile. He really needed that deal, he really needed for that to work, it would be the break SI needed, he could feel it, he could already taste the success.

“Very well, so here’s my offer. You will supply Oscorps with your nanotech for a year, then we can take it from there. This would be your cut for this first year.” Osborn wrote something down on a piece of paper and slid it towards Tony across the table. His eyes widened slightly when he saw the numbers – and the amount of zeros –, but he pretended to be cool about it, he even put on a show of looking slightly disappointed. “And there’s a lot more where this comes from, Stark. This could be the beginning of a beautiful, and mutually beneficial, friendship.”

“I do hope it is, Mr. Osborn. I look forward to working with your company. I’m sure we’re gonna be a great fit.” Tony tried to sound cool and professional, but he was having a little heart attack on the inside. He had been trying to schedule a meeting with Norman for months and the billionaire – or, most likely, his PA – kept making excuses. Now there he was, closing a huge deal with the promise of a mutually beneficial friendship in the future.

After that, he could breathe more easily during dinner. He couldn’t wait to tell Pepper, Bruce and Nat, though, they had to celebrate properly, maybe they could all go to his apartment and finally crack open that Macallan he bought when he made his first million. But meanwhile, he was stuck in the restaurant with Norman and his boy-toy, which he wouldn’t complain too much about, at least it was a nice view.

Again, there was no denial that the boy was beautiful. There was just something naturally sensual and charismatic about him, Tony couldn’t avoid looking his way, even when he wasn’t talking. And when he did talk, it was magnetic. He didn’t say much, as Tony expected, but what he didn’t expect was for him to be so smart. The few times he said anything was to ask questions about his tech, and those were surprisingly pertinent. Sometime along the night, Tony figured out that he was studying to become a mechanical engineer at Columbia and he wondered if Norman had anything to do with it – probably.

Tony was reminded of his own college years, of how he had to work his ass off to get a scholarship, and how many crazy hours he had to work to make ends meet, just to be able to build something for himself. He didn’t seek the help of men like Norman, although he could have. The name Stark meant something, once upon a time. His father was considered a gifted inventor, he was respected by huge companies, but he never built anything of his own.

When he died, Tony was only eleven. He still didn’t know exactly what happened, but soon after that, his mother lost everything he had left – which wasn’t much to begin with. She was never quite herself again, she was so depressed, she never even smiled anymore, she sometimes didn’t have the energy to get out of bed, Tony was the one doing the house chores, cooking for her, trying to make sure she was okay. She died eight years later from an aneurysm, Tony found her lying on the couch, looking peaceful for the first time in so many years.

In short, he never had it easy, and he never tried to make it easier for himself either – at least not in shady ways. He just wanted to do the right thing, even if it took longer – which it did. He was a forty-five year old man, but he made a name for himself, the name Stark held respect once again.

“If you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom, I’ll be right back.” The young man got up after a quick peck to Norman’s lips and headed to the bathroom. Tony made a huge effort and pointedly did not stare at his ass as he left. He was really proud of himself for that, maybe two years earlier he wouldn’t have been able to pull that off, he had no shame. At least now he had some. A little. Sort of.

“What do you think of him?” Norman had a neutral expression on, he gave nothing away, but it seemed like a test. What sort of question was that, why did it matter what Tony thought of his fuck toy?

“He seems really smart,” he answered with a small smile. It was a polite, diplomatic answer, and not untrue.

“What else?” Norman pushed, with a knowing smirk, and Tony almost cursed under his breath, thinking that maybe he’d been too obvious with his staring all through dinner, after all.

“He’s very pretty,” he admitted, although still with his cool, professional face on. Norman’s smirk grew wider.

“He sure is. Cute pet. Smart, polite, funny. You should get one for yourself, Stark. They’re kinda expensive, but worth every penny.” His shark-like smile took over his whole face and Tony had to fight back a grimace. He just smiled and shook his head no.

“Not really my style, sir.” Buying people, paying for sex, that sort of thing, he wanted to add.

“It’s not anyone’s style until it is.” He gave Tony a once over and smirked. “We’re not getting any younger.” The engineer was offended, he wanted to tell him he aged like good wine, unlike certain people, but refrained. He just gave him a strained smile and took a sip of his drink.  

As if on cue, the pretty boy returned to the table and Tony took a couple of seconds to appreciate his outfit. He wore a dark blue suit, very elegant and very expensive looking, certainly a gift from Osborn, and it fit him like a glove. Tony supposed it was bespoke. It complimented his lithe, lean body beautifully.

When he turned around to pull his chair out, the older man subtly checked out his ass and – of course, it was delicious, round and perky, two perfect handfuls. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the fact that he had a huge character flaw, a hamartia – he fucked people for money. He was basically a glorified whore, and if there was one thing Tony never had to do in his life was pay for sex, one way or another. So, really, he wouldn't start with – what was his name again?

“So, come by the office on Monday, we’ll talk over all the details, then you can take the draft contract to your legal team and we can meet again – say, in another week?”

“Yeah, sure, this sounds perfect,” he answered coolly, not mentioning that his “legal team” consisted of one single Natasha Romanoff, who would have his balls for dinner when she found out that she would only have seven days to look over what was bound to be a very long, very complex contract.

“Well, then, Mr. Stark. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Norman got up from his chair, what clearly meant dinner was over, and Tony rushed to his feet, offering his had to shake.

“You won’t regret this, sir,” he spoke in a strong, firm voice, because he was positive of it.

“Good.” Osborn shook his hand once and turned to leave without saying goodbye.

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Stark, I hope we’ll see each other again soon.” The pretty boy took his hand as well, eyes glinting, a coy smile on his face. Tony couldn’t tell if he was flirting or if he was pretending to be shy, but he ignored it and just nodded curtly.

“Thank you, it’s been a pleasure to meet you, too.” He didn’t dare try to remember his name, Tony was pretty sure it started with a P, but he wouldn’t risk it.

As soon as they left the restaurant, the CEO punched the air in celebration, calling Pepper right away.

---*---

The meeting on Monday went smoothly, they agreed that Tony would be personally charged with the maintenance of his tech at least a week a month – he made it seem like it was a courtesy, but, in reality, he still didn’t have anyone on his team who could do the job quite as well as he could. They also agreed that he would have a small team of five scientists at his disposal during such period, so he wouldn’t have to dislodge anyone from his company to do it – again, he didn’t mention that five people were basically half of his scientific team and he couldn’t afford them not working for SI for a whole week each month.

As expected, he didn’t see the pretty boy in the meeting, Tony supposed he only made an appearance in social functions and such, so he could make Norman look good. To Tony’s surprise, though, seven days later, after Natasha bullied him into promising a 10% raise after the shit he’d pulled with the contract, the pretty boy was in the meeting room when he arrived to sign the deal. Norman’s PA and a few of his lawyers were there as well, Tony was with Pepper and Natasha, and he quickly whispered to Pepper that he was the boy he’d told her about. He approached them with a shy, nervous smile and Tony almost wanted to roll his eyes at the facade.

“Hi, I’m Peter Parker, I’m an intern here.” Ah, Peter. That sounded about right. Tony thought it was something along those lines. And he was an intern for Oscorps, of course. What a joke. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Stark. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Hello, Mr. Parker, this is Miss Potts, my assistant, and this is Miss Romanoff, head of my legal team. I’ll have a coffee – black, no sugar. Thank you.” Again, he kept it professional and barely even looked at the kid, he knew what he looked like and he knew he was off limits, so why tease himself by looking?

“I’m good.” Natasha smiled sweetly, making the boy blush even harder.

“I’ll have the same as Mr. Stark, thank you, Mr. Parker.” Peter quickly turned and headed out of the room and Pepper turned to whisper to him. “You weren’t kidding, he’s really fucking young, he looks like he could be Norman’s grandson, for Christ’s sake.” Tony snorted and Natasha eyed them knowingly, but with a look that screamed “behave” and they both schooled their expressions. Shortly after, the boy walked back in with their coffee and they thanked him, as he blushed and nodded, taking a seat to the left of what should be Osborn’s chair.  

The meeting didn’t take long at all, everything had already been discussed, it was just a formality, so barely twenty minutes later they were all getting up from their seats, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries. Tony was almost out of the room when he felt a hand at his elbow followed by a softly spoken, “Mr. Stark, can I have a word?”.

Of course the devil himself would tempt him, even if Tony was trying to be good. He was forced to turn around and actually look at the young man, he was wearing a lavender dress shirt, with a dark gray tie and black pants. He looked like the cutest little businessman ever, and Tony was sure that if Peter were to turn his back, he would be presented with his perfect bubble butt looking amazing in those slacks, but – he was the forbidden fruit. Besides, Tony mused, he probably couldn’t afford a single night with Peter, he was only a millionaire, after all, and he’d rather spend his money on shiny things and get his lays for free.

“Yes, Mr. Parker?” The boy’s cheeks were impossibly red and Tony figured he couldn’t really fake that, so he supposed he really was shy to some degree. He looked over his shoulder and saw Pepper and Natasha waiting just outside the door, warning looks on their faces, and he rolled his eyes.

“I was wondering – I talked to No--, I mean, Mr. Osborn, about the possibility of maybe, uhm. Working with you? When you come to do the maintenance, I mean. It’s just, we don’t really have an engineering department, so you would be working mainly with biochemists and a few lab techs, so I thought maybe I could assist you with the hands-on work, you know? I don’t know if Mr. Osborn mentioned, but I’m studying to become a mechanical engineer as well and it would be an honor working with you, sir. Mr. Osborn said it was ok as long as you agreed, so...” He shuffled his feet and avoided looking at the older man.

“Look, kid.” Tony sighed, because, fuck. How could he say no to Norman’s boy without being rude? And how could he say yes to working with someone who was clearly useless to him and would only serve as a distraction – and worse, a temptation. He needed a way out of that. “I don’t really know if there would be much for you to do, I mean, it’s pretty new and advanced technology, and you’re, what, a freshman, right?”

“Actually, I’ll graduate next fall, sir.” Tony was taken aback by that and it must have shown on his face if Peter’s answering blush was anything to go by.

“I’m sorry, how old are you again?” He asked, trying not to sound too rude.

“I’ll be twenty in August, sir.” If Tony was impressed by that, he didn’t let it show, but if the kid would manage to graduate from Columbia at twenty, then he must not be that useless after all, but Tony wouldn’t hold his breath.

“Very well, then. I guess I’ll see you in a month, Mr. Parker.” He nodded and Peter could barely contain his grin when he shook his hand excitedly. It was cute and endearing and – oh, God, Tony almost fell for his little act. Fuck, he really needed to be on his toes around that guy.

“Thank you, sir, I really appreciate it!”

As soon as Tony stepped out of the building and headed towards his car with Natasha and Pepper on his heels, the Russian red-head looked at him seriously.

“Tony, I swear to God, if you try to get your dick wet with that boy, I quit. I’m not even gonna start on how much legal and PR trouble you’re gonna get yourself into by fucking Norman’s boyfriend, specially considering he’s, like, twelve, and happens to work for your business partner. Don’t fuck this up!” She warned as she got inside the car and, again, Tony had to roll his eyes as he got behind the wheel.

“Look, I’m not gonna lie, if the circumstances were different, I’d be all over that,” he admitted, noticing Pep’s aggravated look. “But of course I’m not gonna do anything to jeopardize this deal, ok? Besides, you know how I feel about gold diggers. You saw him and you saw Osborn, why in the fucking hell a guy like him would fuck a mummy like Osborn? He’s, like, a hundred years old!”

“He’s fifty five, and I don’t know if you know this, Tony, but people have sex for reasons that go beyond appearances. You know, like love, affinity, connection –”

“-- Money, fame, status. C’mon, Pep, don’t be naive. Do you really think that boy loves Osborn? He just likes expensive restaurants and fancy cars. Maybe, if he’s thinking big, he’s gonna use him to get a good job after graduation, but that’s it.”

“Well, then, if you think he’s such a terrible person, you’ll have no problem staying the hell away from him, right?” She looked at him with narrowed eyes and he looked away from the traffic for a second to smirk at her.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it, easy breezy.”

--*--

As it turned out, it wasn’t easy breezy.

Peter was like a lost puppy trailing after him the following month, he spent the whole week glued to his hip, asking questions, making suggestions, and even supplying him with a never ending amount of coffee. If Tony was a hundred percent honest, he kinda liked it. The kid seriously treated him like a hero, a celebrity, he seemed to look up to him and, in the end, he proved to be a valuable asset on the team. He was really smart and hardworking, he understood everything Tony was saying even before he was done talking and he had really steady, tiny hands, which were always useful with nanotech.

Tony couldn’t really stay away from him and slowly learned a few things about him from what little information he stuttered out when answering his questions. First, the older man learned that he got into Columbia when he was only sixteen, which was kind of amazing, if he was being completely honest. Tony wanted to believe that that had happened way before he met Norman Osborn, but he didn’t really know when they met.

He had a scholarship and lived with his aunt until she passed away a little over a year earlier and now he shared an apartment with four other people, which surprised Tony, he figured Norman would have hooked him up with a nice place – but then again, he had no idea when they met, it could have been only months earlier. Peter said that, originally, he wanted to go to MIT, but he only got a partial scholarship there, so he had to give it up and go to Columbia. He also said that that was how he knew Tony beforehand. The older man was sort of a famous MIT alumnus, specially among the engineering students, so Peter heard of him and followed his work through scientific publications, which was – well, Tony was flattered.

Even if those bits of information somewhat made Tony warm up to the young man, other few things still annoyed him just as much. First of all, clearly Peter was a very bright kid, possibly one of the smartest people Tony knew besides himself and Bruce, he didn’t really need Norman’s influence to succeed, and still, there he was. Second, he quickly picked up on the fact that Peter wasn’t exactly Norman’s boyfriend, he was more of a… Sugar baby? And one of many, actually, although he seemed to be the favorite. After Tony signed the deal, he started paying closer attention to what tabloids said about Norman and apparently he had a very long list of (young) lovers, but he was officially single.

Somehow, that made Tony even more disgusted by their relationship. He just couldn’t understand why a guy like Peter would put himself in that position, for what? Money? A job? What was it that Norman could offer him that he couldn’t get himself? The thing was, Peter kind of reminded Tony of himself at that age. He was pretty much in the same situation: he had no family and no money, he only had his brains – and while Tony had made something out of it, Peter was trying to take a shortcut and the engineer didn’t appreciate that.

“Here, check this out, see how they respond a lot faster now?” Tony made room so that the younger man could look through the microscope, a wide grin spreading across his face in a few seconds. “You have to think of them as neurons, they communicate with each other by electrical pulses, similar to synapses. For that to work out perfectly and seamlessly, they need to be really close by, without touching, that’s why the electromagnetic field has to be perfect, if it’s just a tiny bit off, the response time increases exponentially. Got it?”

“Got it, Mr. Stark!” He answered excitedly and Tony smiled at him.

“Well, my work here is done. See you next month?” Tony got up from his chair, gathering his things around the lab.

“I can’t wait." Somehow, Tony knew he actually meant it.

The following month, Peter was just as helpful and just as excited as the month before. He was in the lab before Tony – who was always early himself – and he always greeted him with a bright smile and an excited wave of his hand. As the engineer settled his things on his work bench, Peter would get him coffee, and he always remembered how Tony liked it. They got right to work, which they did everyday for a week without any disruption. The intern always offered to stay late, but Tony never took him up on that, he knew he had classes in the afternoon and he didn’t want him to get in trouble. Just as he was starting to warm up to him, though, on Friday, the engineer was reminded why he didn’t like him in the first place.

“You’re late, Mr. Parker.” Tony mumbled from his seat in front of the microscope as soon as he heard the glass door open with a hiss as the smell of coffee filled the room. Peter was only twelve minutes late, but it was only their second week working together, it didn’t seem very professional.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark, I was – uh, in a meeting with Mr. Osborn.” He lied through his teeth, Tony could almost smell the nervousness when he came close enough. He hated being lied to, specially when he knew what Peter was probably doing in that “meeting”. It was just inexcusable.

“Just because you’re Norman’s boy doesn’t mean you get special treatment in this lab, you hear me? I don’t care what you do with him all the other weeks that I’m not here, but if you wanna be a part of my team, during my lab hours, you gotta be here and on time. Are we clear?” He didn’t bother lifting his eyes from the microscope and almost missed the whispered and wavered, “yes, sir” that Peter let out. When he turned to the younger man, his eyes were bloodshot, his clothes were rumpled, his face ashen and his lower lip was wobbling, he looked like he had a rough night and an early morning, and he looked like he was holding back tears. Tony almost regretted the harsh treatment. Almost. “Is this my coffee?” He pointed at the cup, averting his gaze.

“Yes, sir.” He answered quickly, offering the beverage like a gift.

On his third month there, Tony tried to keep his distance from the younger man. He promised Natasha and Pepper that he would and, up until that point, he hadn’t been very successful. So during the week of March that he had to go to Oscorps, he avoided the younger man, made himself unavailable and charged him with boring and complicated tasks that should take all week to get done. Still, the boy did everything he was told and only took half the time expected, he was always on time and always, always brought him coffee, just the way he liked it. It was really hard to ignore him.  

“You know you don’t have to bring me coffee, right? It’s not in your job description.” Tony felt the need to point out on Friday when he saw the boy walking in with the beverage, but he just shrugged and smiled a little.

“I know, I just want to make sure you have everything you need, sir. Besides, I used to work at a coffee shop, I don’t mind making your coffee.” When he said that, Tony’s brows shot into his hairline.

“You made this?” He asked, incredulously, and the boy cocked his head in confusion.

“Yeah, where did you think this came from?” He frowned, amused.

“Uh, I don’t know, some fucking gourmet coffee shop downstairs?” Peter laughed, genuinely laughed, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled in the most endearing way, as he shook his head.

“You’re funny, Mr. Stark.”  

Peter was the funny one, actually, and the whole thing was just so confusing to Tony. He thought he had the younger man all figured out, he thought he knew what kind of person he was, what he was after, but sometimes Peter would do or say things that just didn’t add up to Tony’s assumptions. The boy was kind and generous and humble, he was proactive and hardworking, and so annoyingly nice. He was easy to talk to, too, sometimes they’d have whole conversations about the most random subjects as they worked and Tony would only realize what they did at the end of the day, as he left and Peter waved at him with that charming smile and it made something burn in Tony’s chest and he couldn’t figure out why.  

On his fourth month there, Peter surprised him on the first day. He brought him coffee in a mug that read: “If it ain’t broke, take it apart and fix it”. Usually, his coffee was put in a styrofoam cup with Oscorps logo on it, he had no idea where the mug came from, and when he asked, the boy blushed slightly, shuffling his feet.

“Uhm, actually – I heard it was your birthday last week, so I just – I mean, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be inappropriate or anything, it’s just – the environment and stuff. So. Uh – happy birthday?” He looked really uncomfortable just saying that, and Tony was equal parts amused and amazed, so he  dropped his eyes back to the simple, white mug with bright red letters.

“That’s – actually really nice, Peter. Thank you.” He looked back at the young man and his cheeks were burning red. It was really… fucking cute. Fuck.

“You’re welcome, Mr. Stark.” His answering tiny smile warmed the older man’s heart, but he swallowed whatever feeling dared to emerge.

By Tony’s fifth month working with Oscorps, things finally started to feel natural, pleasant. When he arrived in the morning, he greeted everyone by name, threw smiles and flirty comments here and there and walked the hallways like he owned the place. His team worked like a well-oiled machine and they were always early, specially Peter, after that one time he was late. When he arrived, they already had a head start on him, which was always good, and they were able to go home a little earlier everyday.

“Good morning, everybody.” Tony raised his head when he heard Norman’s voice, a little surprised. Aside from his first day there, he hadn’t seen the old man at all, so it was weird for him to be in the lab, specially so early.

“Mr. Osborn, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Tony asked, watching closely as the older man walked towards Peter, who avoided his gaze furiously, pretending to be focused on his work, although it was clear that he was barely breathing. Norman grinned in his direction, but didn’t say anything, and Tony raised an eyebrow at the interaction.

“Miss Watson let me know you would be here today, so I thought I’d personally invite you to our annual Charity Gala, it will take place next month, on the eleventh. Will you be able to make it?”

“Yes, of course, sir, I can move some stuff around.” Fucking hell, he hated those functions. A bunch of assholes kissing other assholes’s butts and pretending to be good citizens by donating to charity only for the press. Just his type of event. But nonetheless, the type of event he needed to be seen in, someplace where he could meet people and make connections.

“Great, I’ll send the formal invitation to Stark Industries, I look forward to seeing you there. Mr. Stark.” He nodded in his direction and Tony did the same. “Mr. Parker.” He turned towards the young man who still hadn’t looked up. His cheeks burned a bright red when he looked at the older man.

“Mr. Osborn.” He gritted his teeth and, again, Norman grinned, buttoning his suit jacket as he left the lab.

Hm. Odd.

--*--

“At least pretend to be having a good time, Tony.” Pepper whispered through her teeth, a fake smile plastered on as she waved to people Tony could barely recognize. She was wearing a beautiful blue gown, his birthday gift to her, apparently, and not for the first time Tony wondered what would have been if he hadn’t blown things up with her. If he hadn’t cheated on her with half the city when they were in college. He was a stupid, stupid boy in his twenties. And thirties. And early forties.

It was a work in progress.

“I am pretending, don’t I look convincing?” He turned to look at her with what he was certain was a terrible grimace and she snorted into her champagne glass, causing them both to giggle like stupid teenagers. He was glad she had agreed to go as his plus one, he would have blown his brains for sure if he was alone in there.

“Good evening, Mr. Stark.” Ah, Tony could recognize that sweetly high-pitched voice from miles away, but when he turned around he wasn’t ready for such a vision. Peter was wearing a gorgeous burgundy suit with a black, silk shirt underneath, as well as a black tie. His hair was perfectly swept to the side, his curls tamed for once, but still showing at the nape of his neck. He looked absolutely beautiful and fucking expensive. Tony wanted to unwrap him, then wreck him in the best possible way. “And Miss Potts, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Parker, it’s nice to see you again,” she answered pleasantly and Tony was glad she was there because he was sure that he was staring for way too long to be polite. He cleared his throat and smiled at the young man, who quickly slipped into character looking shyly at him from under his eyelashes.

“Mr. Parker, fancy seeing you here,” Tony spoke confidently, subtly looking around for Norman, but he was nowhere to be seen. “And where’s Mr. Osborn?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him.” He averted his gaze, his tiny and usually steady hands trembling a little, before closing into fists. “Well, it was nice seeing you –“

“Hey, c’mon, have a drink with us,” Tony interrupted him, sensing his discomfort.

“Oh, uh – I’m sorry, sir, I’m not old enough to drink.” Tony was almost taken aback by that fact. The amount of information that he carried in that brilliant brain of his did not compute with his age.

“I won’t tell if you don’t. Neither will Miss Potts, right?” Tony turned to look at Pepper, only to see her staring daggers at him, in a way that probably only he could tell, they had a special way of communicating, so he quickly sent her a “what?” glare and she sighed.

“I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear any of this and I’m just gonna go talk to Mrs. Bain, if you’ll excuse me, please.” She smiled sweetly at Peter and walked away from them, as Tony rolled his eyes.

“Well, her loss.” The older man shrugged, grabbing two champagne glasses from a passing waiter. “Have you ever had one of these?” He asked, offering him one of the glasses. “I’m not corrupting you, am I?” Tony asked charmingly, with a crooked smile and a raised eyebrow. Peter giggled,  blushing and shaking his head no.

“No, it’s okay, Norman usually gets me a few drinks when we’re out,” he answered, accepting the glass. Just the mention of the older man had Tony deflating slightly, reminded of the fact that Peter couldn’t be his.

“So, how come you didn’t come together?” He asked innocently, although he knew it was probably a touchy subject. The younger man took a long sip of his drink, licking his wet lips once he was done, and Tony wished it was his tongue running across those thin, pink lips.

“He’d rather bring another date, so.” He shrugged with a small, fake smile, and quickly changed the subject. “I’ve recently read that you’re working on a holographic system that’s supposed to connect with the user's hippocampus and project their memories, is that true?” Tony was surprised by that, he had written a paper about it with Bruce not long before, Peter must really keep up with his work.

“Yeah, but I’m in a bit of a pickle right now, got stuck with the neuroscience portion of it.” Tony scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed about the admission, but Peter only smiled wider.

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out. And it’s gonna be groundbreaking. Again. Well, it seems like everything you do changes the world somehow.” His cheeks were flushed, and maybe it was wishful thinking, maybe Tony was falling for Peter’s little game, but he thought he was actually flirting with him. Really flirting, not “I wanna be your sugar baby” flirting.

“That’s a lot of trust you’re putting in me, kid.” Tony dared to step a little closer to him and the young man bit his lower lip, holding back a smile, cheeks flushing pink.

“Yeah, but I think you can back it up.” He tilted his head back a little to look up at the older man. Tony held his gaze for a few seconds, before he dropped it to his lips. He smiled when the young man nervously licked them.

“I’m sorry I’m too hard on you in the lab. I just don’t want anyone thinking that I treat you differently because of the boss.” Tony took yet another step and Peter didn’t move an inch, allowing him to get closer and closer.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m just thankful to be in your team, I’m learning a lot.” This time, Tony was sure he wasn’t imagining things, Peter’s eyes definitely dropped to stare at his lips and the engineer inhaled sharply.

“Peter –“

“Ah, there you are.” Norman appeared out of thin air and Tony took three steps back, a cool smile on his face. Osborn was accompanied by a gorgeous blonde girl who couldn’t be older than twenty five, she was tall and slender, and looked like a supermodel – and she probably was. “Good evening, Mr. Stark. Pete.”

“Good evening, Mr. Osborn,” Tony answered with a schooled smile, not sure if he was in trouble for giving Peter champagne, but the CEO barely seemed to notice it when he turned to the younger man, who didn’t even bother to answer him.

“How do you like the party so far?” He asked politely, although his gaze was fixed on Peter. His date seemed bored out of her mind, but she eyed Tony with interest and the older man had to avert his gaze, he really didn’t need yet another sin to avoid.

“It’s great, sir,” Tony answered politely, but the older man didn’t really seem to care.

“Good, good. Do you mind if I borrow Peter for a little while?” He eyed the younger man and Peter grit his teeth, his hand tightening around the champagne flute.

“No, sure, he’s all yours.” He gestured towards the boy and he looked back at him with a look of betrayal on his face. Tony raised his eyebrows, not sure what Peter expected him to do, but the young man rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Come on, Peter, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” And with that, he led the way, confident that the boy would follow behind, which he did, after downing the rest of his drink, shooting one last pleading look Tony’s way. Again, the older man had no idea what he wanted.  

Once they left, Tony quickly found Pepper in the crowd as she chatted with Justin Hammer, the biggest asshole to ever exist in the corporate world. He stole all of Tony’s projects when the engineer worked for him, all the weapons the U.S.A. Army used ten years earlier were designed by Tony and he never got any credit for that. Two years after he quit Hammer Industries, they lost that contract because they simply had nothing new to offer.  

“Good evening, Mr Hammer, if you don’t mind, I’m just gonna take my date elsewhere, someplace where the toxicity level is more bearable. Bye.” Tony interrupted them unceremoniously and steered Pepper away from him as she threw apologies over her shoulder. “Don’t apologize to him, he’s trash.”

“Tony, you can’t act like this if you wanna be the CEO of the biggest tech company in the country. You need to make connections and keep good relation –“

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll do that with anyone else, except for him, promise.” He rolled his eyes once they got to the bar, where he leaned on the counter and flirted with the barman, before ordering two drinks.

“Great, then I hope you intend to keep a good relationship with Mr. Osborn,” she whispered, looking around to make sure nobody was listening. “Just a quick reminder: fucking his boyfriend is not very friendly.”

“Peter’s not his boyfriend,” he answered automatically, before taking a sip of his scotch, his eyes scanning the room until he found the younger man in a small circle of people, along with Mr. Osborn and his date. Tony hated that so much, the boy looked devastated but he was still there. Why the fuck was he still there? He didn’t need that shit. “They didn’t even come together today.”

“Okay, not the answer I was looking for, not a reassuring answer at all.” Pepper spoke to herself under her breath, then grabbed him by the jaw, forcing him to look at her. “Tony Stark, I hope you’re not –“

“Jesus, relax!” He snapped, freeing his face from her grip. “You and Natasha are driving me mad with this, I swear to God, the more you tell me not to do it, the more I wanna do it, just out of spite. Leave it alone, will ya?”

“Fine, whatever, do what you want, that always works out perfectly for you,” she snapped right back, taking her drink from the counter and walking away from him. “Don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face!”

Tony ignored her, they always had those arguments – she was usually right, Tony usually fucked up somehow and he usually went crying to her anyway, and she always helped him, so whatever. He was slightly tipsy, anyway, he would regret the whole thing in the morning, but right at that moment he was focused on Peter. The young man seemed really uncomfortable and out of place where he stood, among a few businessmen, but he was still there.  

Norman stood to his left with his date, talking animatedly with the other men. To Peter’s right, there was a tall, slender man, in his early forties, and he wouldn’t take his eyes off of the boy. Sometimes he would whisper things in his ear, eliciting a small, polite smile from him, but no answer. Some other times he would rest a hand on his waist for no particular reason and Tony would watch with amusement as the boy tried to get away politely. Norman watched the whole interaction discreetly, carefully, but didn’t intervene.

Eventually, Peter excused himself and headed towards the bathroom. Tony watched the other man and, sure enough, he followed him there a few seconds later, under Norman’s intense gaze, a small smirk playing on his lips. Tony quickly understood what was probably going on. Again, the older man was disappointed in the boy. Such a smart kid, with so much potential, he could do so much better. Tony turned towards the bar, ordering another scotch. Since he was there, with no date, and nothing else to do, it wouldn’t hurt to have a few drinks.

Several minutes later, he was leaning against the bar, talking to Mr. Zimmer, the CEO of Accutech, and actually scored a meeting for the following week to pitch his nanobots. After his deal with Oscorps, he was able to close two smaller ones and had a few more meetings scheduled. As he imagined, people took notice of Stark Industries after that. Having such a huge, important company such as Oscorps trusting SI meant a lot to potential partners.

As soon as Mr. Zimmer left, Tony saw Peter rushing across the room and out the door. He seemed really upset and agitated, so the older man followed him outside. When he found him again, Peter seemed a little lost. He looked around, as if he didn’t really know which way to go – the gala was held in one of Osborn’s mansions upstate and even leaving the premises was difficult to do without a car, the property was huge. He checked his phone, then, but Tony noticed the screen didn’t light up, it was probably dead. The kid ran his hands through his hair, seemingly desperate, and finally Tony decided to put him out of his misery.

“Hey, kid.” He stepped closer to the boy and he turned quickly, almost as if he was ready to throw a punch or something. “Whoa, there!” Tony held his hands up in a gesture of surrender, examining the boy’s face. He looked distressed, his eyes and face were red and he was a little out of breath. “Hey, are you ok? Do you need a ride home?” His eyes lit up in relief, his face relaxing instantly.

“Would you mind?” He almost pleaded and Tony was a little taken aback by the tone. “It’s just – my phone’s dead and – I just really need to get home.”

“Sure, kid, it’s fine, I was heading home anyway, c’mon.” Tony asked a valet to bring his car around and watched Peter as the younger man seemed to calm down slowly, but he was still acting a little out of sorts as they waited for the car to arrive. “Is everything okay, Peter?”

“Yeah, sure, just a little tired, I guess.” He lied, a fake smile on his face. He was easy to read, most of the time, when he wasn’t trying to attract older, rich men, Tony supposed.

Once the valet brought the car around, Tony opened the door for Peter, who quickly slipped inside like it was an oasis. Tony tipped the valet and joined the younger man, noticing that he seemed almost relieved to be leaving the party.

“Rough night?” Tony asked conversationally once he started the car, pulling away from the driveway. It was a stupid question, but he couldn’t help it.

“Try rough couple of months,” he scoffed, running a hand though his once tamed hair, elbow resting against the window.

“Wanna talk about it?” He looked at the younger man from the corner of his eye and saw him shake his head weakly.

“Not really,” he mumbled and they fell silent. Tony wanted to say something else, but Peter didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk, so he just drove for a few minutes, heading for the city, when the kid spoke up again. “I’m so sorry for the trouble, you can drop me off anywhere, I’ll just take the subway.”

“Don’t be silly, I’ll drive you home. Where is home, by the way?” Tony knew Peter lived with four other students close to campus, but he didn’t know where exactly.

“Harlem.” He sighed, sounding annoyed. “Ugh, that’s the last place I want to be right now,” he mumbled, mostly to himself, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Why? Trouble with your roommates?” Tony raised a brow and the boy shook his head a little.

“Not really, they’re just really loud, specially on weekends. They probably have people over right now and I’m not in the mood, it’s all.” He gave him a tiny smile, but he didn’t really mean it.

“Tell you what,” Tony started, choosing his next words carefully. “Why don’t you come to my place?” He saw from the corner of his eye when Peter almost broke his neck turning to look at him in surprise. “Just for a few hours, so you can cool down some. We can have a few drinks, grab a bite to eat, and once you’re feeling better, I’ll drive you home. Or you can crash there, whatever you prefer. What do you say?” He turned to look at the young man and his eyes were wide, mouth agape in shock. Tony almost wanted to laugh.

“Uh – I don’t – I don’t want to be a bother, sir, you’ve alre--”

“Don’t be silly, I wouldn’t be offering if it was a bother. You don’t need to say yes if you don’t want to, but if you do, you’ll make this old man very happy, I wouldn’t mind some company tonight.” Tony smiled charmingly at him and Peter blushed, the older man could tell there were a million things going through his head.

“Uhm. Okay. Yeah, sure.” He nodded and Tony’s heart did a little flip in his chest and he didn’t even know why. If he was honest, he had no idea what he was doing or why he was doing it, he just wasn’t ready to let the younger man go.

The rest of the drive was long and mostly silent. Peter was usually very lively and talkative in the lab, he always had some fun fact to share or an anecdote about something that happened in class, but that night he was gloomy and quiet, but he still answered to Tony’s small talk. When they arrived at the older man’s penthouse, Peter was a little nervous, looking around as if he was out of place, looking almost regretful. Tony decided that he hated seeing him like that.

“Hey, wanna see something cool?” He asked as soon as they walked into the living room. The young man turned to look at him curiously, a small smile on his face as he nodded. “Evening, Jarvis. Could you get the windows, please?” As he said that, Peter frowned, then jumped almost a foot in the air when the A.I. answered.

“Good evening, sir, I hope you had a good time at the party.” As he said that, an entire wall of the living room turned from blurred, dark glass to transparent glass, revealing an amazing view of the city skyline. “Good evening, Mr. Parker.”

“What – how – you have an AI here? How does he know who I am?” Peter half whispered, half shouted, apparently undecided if he should be concerned or amazed. Tony laughed and placed a hand on Peter’s lower back, guiding him towards the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I don’t only have it, I made it. And he’s equipped with an advanced face recognition technology that I designed, in case anyone comes in here with ill intentions. I started working on Jarvis when I was at Hammer Industries, it was supposed to go to the military, but after I resigned, I decided to keep it to myself. Jarvis runs the house and helps me in the lab.” Tony stuck his hands in his pockets and observed as the young man leaned against the window, looking amazed and a little lost.

“So cool!” Peter’s eyes were round and excited, all the gloominess from earlier apparently forgotten. “Can I talk to him? Like, will it acknowledge my voice?”

“Of course, Mr. Parker, why wouldn’t I?”  

“Hi, Jarvis!” And just like that, Peter stroke up the silliest conversation with Jarvis, as Tony headed to the kitchen. He decided that since Peter wasn’t really allowed to drink, he’d make them some coffee, and later they could order something to eat. When he went back to the living room, the young man was still leaning against one of the windows as Jarvis tried to convince him that he had no intention of starting a rebellion to wipe out humanity.

“Don’t worry, Jarvis wouldn’t do that,” Tony smiled, placing two mugs on the coffee table and Peter shrugged.

“I wish he would, sometimes I think we failed as a species.” He turned around to face the engineer with a cheeky smile. Fuck, he was so beautiful. “Thank you for everything, I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”

“You would have figured something out, you’re resourceful. Maybe you would have built a car out of a cardboard box, two paper clips and four potatoes.” He leaned against the window beside Peter and the young man looked up at him with a grin.

“Or maybe I would have found someone to lend me a charger so I could call an Uber?” He bumped Tony’s shoulder with his own and the older man scoffed.

“Yeah, but that would’ve been boring, don’t you think?” He raised a brow with a grave face and the young man laughed.

“You’re right, this is much more fun.” His face was so open, so beautiful, all awkwardness from before completely gone. Tony leaned in to whisper close to his ear.

“It can get better.” He pulled back a little to look at the boy’s face. He looked surprised, eyes wide and lips parted, but he didn’t pull away, he didn’t take a single step back, so Tony took a chance. He placed one hand gently on his cheek, testing his reaction, and Peter’s breath hitched, his gaze dropped to Tony’s lips, but he stood still, breathing rapidly but quietly. That was all the answer he needed.

He buried his hand in those curls he’d been dreaming about for months, as his other arm snaked around his thin waist, pulling him close, no chance of escape. Not that he thought that Peter would try to escape if he could, anyway. Tony felt intoxicated when their lips touched, Peter’s mouth was as soft as it looked, his skin as smooth as he imagined. The younger man melted against him, bodies flush together as Tony’s tongue begged for entrance in his mouth.  

He pushed him against the window, once again testing the young man’s reaction to his advances, but Peter was so far gone, he barely seemed to notice they’d changed positions. Tony kissed him deeply, slowly, as his hands made their way around the boy’s hips, thumbs stroking his hipbones over the silk shirt, and he sighed. Tony licked into his mouth, swallowing his little gasps and whimpers, and he could tell that Peter had never been kissed like that before, if the way his legs gave out were any indication. He held him up, though, his body trapped between the older man’s and the cold window.

He felt Peter’s erection already poking his upper thigh and he smiled into the kiss, feeling his own cock start to swell against Peter’s lower stomach. He moaned quietly, pulling away from the kiss for a few seconds to check if the boy was doing okay, but Peter didn’t even open his eyes, he just rocked his hips slowly, rubbing his erection against Tony’s thigh. Feeling confident enough, the older man lowered his hands to his perfect ass, squeezing his cheeks tightly as he pulled him even closer to him. Just as he imagined, it was firm, yet supple, it filled his hands nicely, and Tony didn’t hesitate to lift him a little by the ass, aligning their cocks and pressing both erections together.

“Mr. Stark,” he whimpered, humping against Tony, trying to balance his weight on the tips of his toes as Tony held him up. The older man took advantage of the way he threw his head back, exposing his throat, to make his way down his skin, peppering his long, pale neck with kisses and bites. Peter moaned as he tried to undo Tony’s suit jacket, which he allowed, putting just a little distance between them. He went back to his mouth with another kiss, faster than before, more urgent, before pulling away just a few inches, panting against the kid’s mouth.

“C’mon, babe, let me take you to bed,” he whispered and Peter nodded quickly.

Tony took his hand and led him to his own room, and as soon as they were inside, he pushed Peter against the king sized bed and quickly started working on his shirt, every inch of silky, white skin it revealed made the older man harder. Peter smelt and looked expensive as fuck, his skin was smooth as a baby’s, not a single hair in sight, and it was soft and unmarked, peppered only with a few light brown freckles along the collarbones. His nipples were tiny and light pink, hard from excitement and begging to be bitten.

Tony wanted to eat him up – and out – he always looked good when they were in the lab, in his cute slacks, dress shoes and lab jacket, but that night he looked delicious, like an expensive meal, and Tony was a starving man. He got rid of the shirt, revealing his thin chest and surprisingly defined abs, and he worshiped the exposed skin, covered it with open mouthed, wet kisses and bites until it turned red from the abuse. He wanted to mark him up, leave bruises on him so that at least for a while, Peter could be his.

He took a perked up nipple in his mouth and sucked it mercilessly, as he pinched the other one between his fingers, and Peter gasped, hands flying to grab Tony’s shoulders. He didn’t waste too much time, though, and quickly started undoing his pants, pulling them down his legs. The act revealed even more soft, smooth skin and plump, soft thighs that the older man couldn’t help biting. Peter whined quietly when Tony splayed his open palms on his legs and squeezed, as he sucked bruises on the boy’s inner thighs. His face was so close to his cock, covered only in tight, black boxer briefs, so Tony rubbed his cheek against it and Peter cried out.  As soon as he lowered his boxers, Peter’s cock sprung free, and Tony was delighted. It was small and flushed pink, rock hard and already dripping pre-cum. The older man didn’t think twice as he put it all in his mouth, eliciting a scream from the young man.

“Oh, my God, Mr. Stark!” He bucked his hips wildly, his legs falling open, and, for the second time that evening, Tony thought that maybe nobody had ever done that to him. “Oh, God! Fuck!” He kept moaning desperately, as Tony sank his fingers in his ass cheeks, bobbing his head up and down, sucking and licking his shaft and paying extra attention to the head. Peter kept both of his hands beside his body, clenching at the sheets, not daring to touch Tony or demand anything. The second the older man’s fingers touched his balls, he lost it. “Mr. Stark, please, I – Oh, God, oh my God –“ He blushed furiously, Tony noticed when he raised his head and let go of his cock with a loud pop.

His whole face and chest were flushed pink, he held his upper body up, resting on his elbows as he panted, looking thoroughly debauched. His once gelled curls were wild and loose, covering his forehead, and Tony just wanted to ruin him even more. He smirked at the younger man, who seemed completely out of it, barely able to understand what was happening. Tony lifted his legs, pressing his bent knees to his chest and Peter got the idea and held his legs in place, exposing himself beautifully to him.

The older man’s mouth watered as he looked at his quivering, pink hole. It looked so fucking tight and so fucking ready for his cock at the same time, he could see Peter was mortified in that position, but he still held himself open, so eager for what was to come. Tony grabbed his ass cheeks and spread them, burying his face in his crack and licking a stripe up from his tailbone to his balls, only to hear the young man screaming desperately.

Tony was feeling really smug, he didn’t remember the last he made anyone scream like that. He was always a generous lover, he liked giving his partners pleasure, but Peter didn’t seem to be used to it if his reactions were anything to go by, so the older man took even more pleasure in making him feel so good.

“Mr. Stark, I’m gonna – I’m not gonna last, please!” Tony pretended not to hear him, as he kept licking over his rim before he started to try to breach him with his tongue, as Peter cried out, bucking his hips. The older man held him in place and kept trying to fuck his tongue into him, until he felt Peter’s fingers in his hair, pulling him up. “I wanna come with you inside me – please,” he whispered once Tony’s lips were over his mouth, his cock perfectly aligned with the boy’s hole.

He grunted and kissed him again, just as wildly and roughly as he did before. The young man quickly started undoing Tony’s shirt, and only then did he realize that he was still dressed as Peter laid on his bed completely naked. He groaned into the kiss, because fuck, that was hot, but he helped the boy take off his shirt and undershirt.

Peter curled one leg around his waist, kissing Tony back enthusiastically and a little less shyly now that the older was a little undressed as well. He ran his soft hands all over Tony’s broad back, then up his shoulders and into his thick hair, all the while moaning and bucking his hips, begging to be touched. Tony took advantage of the position they were in to slide his fingers in between Peter’s cheeks, feeling his tight entrance twitch, anticipating the touch. He didn’t do much more, though, he just kept kneading his ass, letting his fingertips just slightly brush against his quivering hole.

Peter grew impatient then, and instead of pushing his hips up, against Tony’s own cock, he started pushing then down, against his fingers. The older man chuckled, brushing his chin against the pale neck, already noticing it turning pink with beard burn.

“Mr. Stark, c’mon, please, I--” He mumbled incoherently, holding on for dear life to his shoulders, his breath short, swollen, wet lips parted, his lids heavy. A vision of paradise. “I need--”

Tony knew what he needed, but he wouldn’t give it to him just yet. Still, he let his middle finger wander towards his entrance, feeling his hole clenching, trying to pull it inside, ready to take whatever Tony was willing to give. He grabbed his thighs again, spreading them far apart, making Peter yelp in surprise. He kissed his hole gently one last time, then moved away, getting off the bed.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.” Tony smirked, undoing his pants, and he noticed Peter’s eyes intent on him. As soon as his cock sprung free, the young man whimpered, whispering “fuck” and biting his lips hard. “Like what you see?” Tony asked, cockily, he knew it was a nice view. He was nicely groomed and his cock was cut, long and thick, and at the moment it was rock hard like never before and dripping with pre-cum. He stepped out of his pants and headed towards the night stand before Peter could answer. He grabbed a bottle lube and made his way back to the bed, positioning himself between his legs once again.

He coated his fingers with plenty of lube and breached his entrance with one fingertip, only to hear a long, deep moan coming from the younger man, who clung to his shoulders for dear life. He fucked his finger in and out of him, slowly at first, but quicker as Peter’s hips started moving along with him, begging for more. Tony leaned down and kissed him, and felt one of Peter’s hands in his hair, as he curled both of his legs around the older man’s waist. Tony kept kissing him as he sunk another finger in his hole, eliciting a surprised moan from him, as he tried to adjust to the stretch.

They kept kissing and rocking against each other eagerly, as Tony fucked him open with his fingers, scissoring and curling them, until he couldn’t take it anymore, he needed to be inside him. He drew back just enough to hold his cock, guiding it towards Peter’s entrance. Slowly and unrelentingly, Tony sank his cock inside him, blinded with pleasure as each inch sank further inside. Peter whined in pain but didn’t budge or asked him to stop, he took it like a good boy, holding still, legs spread wide, until Tony bottomed out. When he did, he wrapped his arms around his slight frame, lifting him a little from the bed, and Peter took a deep breath, holding his shoulders.

“That’s it, sweetie, you’re so good for me, I’m gonna make you feel so good.” Tony whispered nonsensically in his ear, kissing his cheeks and neck gently, waiting for him to adjust. They stayed like that for a few seconds, until Peter started rocking his hips slowly, and Tony soon caught on. He grabbed his hips and slammed once inside him, hearing a scream coming from the younger man. He drew back and slowly built up a pace, slamming against him like there was no tomorrow. He moaned loudly, a mixture of pleasure and pain, Tony could tell, but instead of asking him to slow down, he pushed back against him just as hard, biting his neck.

Tony may have lost his mind somewhere along the way, pure instinct took over as he fucked into him with abandon, he heard his screams and moans and they made him hit harder, harder, and he thought he heard the younger man screaming just that, as he sank his nails into his shoulders and down his back, until he grabbed Tony’s ass and pulled him closer, faster, harder –

“Oh – Oh, Mr. Stark – I –“ Peter rolled his eyes back and it took Tony the better part of a minute to realize that he was coming, and he hadn’t even touched his cock. Spurts of his warm, white come covered both of their chests and Tony could feel that some of it caught on his chin. The sight of Peter underneath him – debauched, utterly satisfied, ruined – was enough to bring Tony over the edge, the force of his orgasm was almost blinding, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. He let himself fall on top of Peter, barely aware of the fact that he was maybe a little too heavy for that, but the younger man didn’t seem to mind, if the soft, barely there caresses on his back were anything to go by.

They were silent for several minutes, bodies cooling down and falling asleep, but Tony’s mind was wide awake. What had he done? Peter was supposed to be off limits for a number of reasons, so many he couldn’t even focus on a single one. He felt the young man sigh softly under him, his hands drawing circles on his back peacefully.

“This was nice,” he whispered and it triggered something in Tony, because, fuck, it was perfect. It was perfect, but it was a lie, wasn’t it? Peter wasn’t really into him. He was just – he was just a fucking –

“I really hope this was a free trial, ‘cause I don’t think I can afford you, kid.” The minute the words left his mouth, he felt the younger man go rigid beneath him. He quickly pushed at Tony’s shoulders, trying to raise his upper body and the older man easily rolled off of him to the side, resting his head on his clasped hands on the pillow.

“What are you insinuating?” Peter asked with a frown, suddenly appearing very uncomfortable, gathering the sheets around him to cover his exposed skin.

“I’m not insinuating anything, I’m just saying I don’t think I have enough money to pay for this very expensive meal.” He wiggled his eyebrows, smirking, pretending he wasn’t as affected by what happened as he was. Peter turned bright red, his mouth falling open, gaping like a fish.

“What – I –“ he stammered, frozen for a few seconds before he jumped into action and out of bed, taking the sheets with him as he looked for his clothes around the room. “I can’t believe you just said that, you fucking asshole! Fuck you!” He yelled towards the bed and Tony was a little  surprised by his reaction.

“Chill, it was a joke.” He rolled his eyes, noticing that he young man was almost fully dressed by then, at least he had his pants and shirt on, his tie and jacket were draped over his arm as he looked for his shoes. When he turned back to Tony, his whole face was inhumanly red and soaked in tears, it made Tony’s heart clench. “Jesus, kid!”

“I’m not laughing, asshole!” He yelled again, marching towards the door without looking back. “You’re all the fucking same, bunch of assholes, what was I thinking? I’m so fucking stup– ” Tony couldn’t hear the rest of his rant because he slammed the door with so much force that the older man was pretty sure he felt the building shaking a little bit.

Well, fuck.

--*--

Two weeks later, when Tony stepped inside the lab, he had a whole plan figured out. After Peter left that night, he went through all five stages of admitting he had been an asshole – as was common for him, he usually went through those at least a few times a week.

So, first, he denied it.

“The kid is obviously overreacting, right? It was just a joke and, even if it wasn’t, well, I wouldn’t have been that far off from the truth.”

Then, he was angry.

“Fuck that kid, he had no right to react the way he did, who does he think he is, slamming the door like that, yelling at me, calling me names, all because of a stupid little joke? Fuck him.”

Then, he bargained.

“So, okay, maybe I was a little over the line, but I can fix it, right? It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

Then he felt a little sad, because, fuck, thinking back to their time together, the kid had never been anything but nice to him, he didn’t deserve that and Tony always fucked up with people, what was wrong with him?

Finally, he fully accepted it. He was definitely, irrevocably and undoubtedly an asshole. They had a nice time together, the kid was the best lay he had in fucking years, and sure, maybe he was with Norman for money or whatever, but what they did, what they shared that night – it felt pretty fucking real and Tony blew it.  

So when he walked into the lab two weeks later, he had it all figured out. He would ask Peter to stay a little late, then, when everybody left, he would apologize to him sincerely and since he had a taste for expensive gifts, he even got him a gold bracelet, just as an “I’m sorry I was an asshole” gift, a peace offering.

The thing was, when he walked into the lab, Peter was nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Mr. Parker?” He asked the closest lab tech and the young woman shrugged, uninterested.

“He quit a few weeks ago, I heard.” She mumbled, concentrated on the microscope in front of her, and Tony cursed under his breath, feeling even more guilty than before. Had the kid felt so offended that he decided to quit the team? That couldn’t be right, he was Norman’s boy, how would he justify that to him? He wouldn’t tell him about them, would he? Tony figured that if he had told Norman anything, he would have heard about it by then, but everything seemed normal and in order, other than Peter’s absence from the lab.

“He went back to being Mr. Osborn’s intern?” He asked just to clarify, maybe he could go talk to him after he was done in the lab for the day.

“No, he quit Oscorps.” She looked at him like he was asking dumb questions, like everyone should know that piece of information.

Tony did not expect that. His heart raced a little when he heard those words, for some reason. He thought he should be relieved, one less thing to worry about. With Peter gone, he wouldn’t need to worry about apologizing or Norman finding out about them. He didn’t need to worry about things getting weird in the lab or Peter trying to use it against him or something. But he wasn’t relieved. He was – what was he feeling? Whenever he thought about the possibility of not seeing Peter ever again, his heart clenched.

The engineer couldn’t understand what was going on inside him, he just needed to talk to Peter, fucking apologize, get him back on the team, make sure that they would still see each other every month, that they would still talk, and laugh together, and share a workbench so small their hips touched every now and again.  

Which was why Tony found himself waiting at the main entrance of Columbia's Morningside Heights campus on Wednesday evening, probably looking suspicious as hell as he swept the crowd, looking for a familiar face. It was a long shot, but he new Peter had classes every afternoon and he knew at what time he was done most days. He guessed the young man would take a train at the subway station on 116th Street, so there he was, looking and waiting.

After almost two hours and no luck, Tony was ready to give up and leave when he saw him walking out, arms full of text books, a heavy looking backpack hanging from one shoulder. He was wearing reading glasses, baggy, ripped jeans, and a graphic t-shirt underneath an oversized gray hoodie and Tony realized he had never seen him like that, he was always well dressed at work and he only ever saw him in other two occasions: his dinner with Norman and at the gala.

Tony thought he looked even more beautiful like that, stripped off of all the fancy things that made him look like an expensive doll. He looked at ease and comfortable and Tony felt a weird desire to hold him. Fucking hold him. Not rip off his clothes and fuck him – well, that too – but to take him into his arms, pull him close and breathe into his his wild curls.

“Hey, Peter,” Tony called out loud enough for him to hear and as soon as his eyes made contact with the older man’s, his face turned red and his eyes widened before he dropped his gaze to the ground, picking up the pace to walk away from Tony. “Hey, hold on, kid, c’mon, I’m talking to you.” The engineer quickly followed, grabbing him by the arm and making him turn around.

“What do you want, what are you doing here?” He asked impatiently, looking around as if afraid to make a scene, there were a lot of people walking in and out of campus at that time.

“You quit Oscorps,” the older man stated, dumbly, and Peter stared at him as if he wanted to say just that. He waited to see if Tony would say anything more and he really meant to, but nothing else came out of his stupid mouth.

“Yeah, and?” He prompted, holding his books close to his chest defensively, getting ready for a fight, but Tony just shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“And now I don’t have any engineers on my team,” he offered, as kind of a joke, he thought, but again, Peter wasn’t laughing.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He rolled his eyes and tried to walk away, but Tony held him back again. “What the hell, don’t touch me!”

“Ok, sorry, I’m sorry.” He let go of his arm and raised both of his hands in a peace offering. “I’m trying to apologize here, I’m not very good at this.”

“Clearly,” Peter snarked, and Tony nodded.

“Right. Ok. I deserve that. Look, let me just –“ He wracked his brain for something to say, he really should have thought it through. The thing was, he thought Peter would be a little more… Compliant. He didn’t expect him to still be that pissed off after almost two weeks. “Let me treat you to dinner, how about that? So we can clear the air?”

“No, thanks,” Peter answered quickly and started to walk away again, heading to the subway station. Since grabbing him and trying to stop him didn’t seem like a good idea, Tony started walking alongside him.

“Hey, c’mon, don’t be so stubborn, I’m just trying to apologize here,” he insisted, attracting Peter’s impatient gaze, as he still tried to balance all the books in his arms.

“You’re forgiven, is that what you wanna hear?” He snapped, and Tony was taken aback by the anger and hurt in his eyes. “There you go. You’re absolved! Goodbye now.” Again, he tried to leave the older man behind, but Tony didn’t let him.

“Hey, kid, don’t be so difficult, I just--”

“Tony!” Weirdly enough, after everything they’d done, that was the first time the younger man called him by his first name and even if the situation was less than ideal, it still sent a shiver down his spine. The boy stopped walking to look at him dead in the eye. “You called me a whore, now you’re asking me to dinner! What am I supposed to think here? I’m not for sale, I’m sorry if I misled you, go bother someone else.”

“Peter, I’m sincerely, honest to God, just trying to apologize here. I know I was an asshole and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that, nobody does, I’m sorry, I was way out of line. I just wanna take you to dinner because I think you’re a good kid, I know you enjoyed working with me and you looked up to me somehow, so I just wanna make it up to you, ok? I promise, nothing else. I just don’t want you to have the wrong impression of me. I’m a good guy, I’m just kind of an asshole sometimes.” Tony tried to convey all his honesty through his eyes, which made Peter deflate a little bit. The young man stared at him for a few seconds with a frown on his forehead, before he sighed, rolling his eyes.

“You’re very annoying,” he said, matter-of-factly, and the older man nodded.  

“I’m known to be quite annoying, yeah,” he admitted, putting on his best pleading face, puppy eyes and all. “Let me make it up to you,” he insisted, and Peter rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation.

“Fine, dinner. Not tonight, though, I have work.” Tony cheered on the inside – and a little on the outside – but the younger man kept a straight face.

“Whenever you’re free.” Peter thought for a second and it almost seemed like he was regretting it already.

“Tomorrow, then. You can pick me up here. And I’ll choose the restaurant.” He stuck up his nose, defiantly, and Tony just spread his arms in surrender.

“Fair enough.”

So Tony decided to be a perfect gentleman, he put on a nice suit, he bought some flowers and took the gold “I’m sorry I was a jerk” bracelet with him when he went to pick Peter up. He was sure he would pick the most expensive restaurant in New York as payback and maybe he would order the most expensive things on the menu and, yeah, Tony knew he was really stupid if he were to comply, but, apparently, he wasn’t as smart as he once thought. And apparently he wasn’t immune to cute boys who knew how to play their cards right. So, yeah, maybe he fell right into Peter’s web in the end and maybe he wasn’t too upset about it. He could afford to spend a few dollars on him, have a good meal, smart conversations, and then move on. Because that’s what it was, right? Just him needing closure, if nothing else.

Except, when he parked his car, Peter was standing on the sidewalk in plain blue jeans and a cheap gray sweater and he looked thoroughly amused by Tony’s outfit when he got out of the car to get the door for him. He offered him the flowers and the boy was even more amused, a small chuckle leaving his lips when he read the “I’m sorry I was a jerk” card. Tony decided not to give him the bracelet after all, didn’t seem like a good idea by the looks of it.

“Where do you think we’re going?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, stopping in front of Tony before he got in the car.

“I was thinking a three-star Michellin restaurant?” The older man frowned and the boy snorted, apparently very amused.

“Yeah, and how in the hell would I afford to eat there, Mr. Stark?” He cocked his head to the side with feigned curiosity and Tony frowned.

“Afford? What – no, I’m buying! This is an ‘I’m sorry’ dinner. Besides, I invited you, it’s only polite.” He argued, but the boy quickly shook his head.

“You’ve apologized enough.” He gestured to the flowers. “Besides, I’m sorry, but I’m a little skeptical about gratuitous generosity at the moment, so we’re just gonna get some cheap pizza if that’s ok with you.” He shrugged, pointing in the general direction of the pizza place he was probably planning to go.

“What? Peter, come on. At least –“

“I only agreed to come if you let me choose the restaurant, so it’s either this or I’m heading back home.” He threatened to turn away and Tony jumped to stop him.

“No, no, sorry, you’re right. It’s your pick.” He opened the door to the passenger seat before Peter could change his mind and leave.

They got inside the car and Tony followed the young man’s instructions to the pizza joint, it wasn’t far from campus and was mostly empty when they got there. It was really not the sort of place that Tony went to anymore, but he couldn’t deny that was exactly the kind of restaurant he could afford when he was 19 at MIT. He was still a little confused by Peter’s choice of restaurant, not really sure if it was all a game, a plot to get back at him, but he seemed honest when he said he wanted to pay for his half.

“Maybe lose the jacket? And the tie?” He suggested with an amused smile from beside him when they parked the car and Tony chuckled slightly, doing just that and undoing the first three buttons of his shirt, rolling up the sleeves as well. “Much better.”

When they got inside the restaurant, Peter seemed to know the waiters, they sat at a table in the far back and ordered their drinks. They didn’t even have wine. A pizza place that didn’t serve wine, what even was that madness.

“So, you come here a lot? Everyone seems to know you around here.” Tony tried to start some amicable conversation and, surprisingly, Peter was receptive.

“I used to work here, actually. Before Oscorps.” He smiled fondly as he looked around, like he had some good memories there.

“Oh, cool.” Again, he was surprised by the boy’s story, Tony always assumed that he had an easy life. “Did I – was it because of me? The reason you quit?” He asked with a wince and Peter raised a brow, amused.

“Don’t be so self-important, it had nothing to do with you,” he rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, so Tony thought maybe he wasn’t that mad anymore. He sure seemed a lot calmer than the last time they met. “You’re a jerk, but I’ve dealt with worse.” Tony snorted, he couldn’t even be mad, Peter was just stating facts. He was a little curious to know what led him to quit his job, if it wasn’t Tony, and suddenly remembered how upset he was when they left the party. He didn’t think it would be a good idea to ask, though, they were just getting back on good terms.

“So, what are you doing now that you quit Oscorps?” Tony cocked his head to the side and the boy shrugged, playing with his paper napkin.

“Back to waiting tables and making coffee.” He smiled, he didn’t seem upset by the turn of events, which was… unexpected? It was just so odd. Tony had this idea that Peter liked to live that expensive lifestyle he had with Osborn, wasn’t that the whole point of being with him? His confusion must have shown on his face, because Peter chuckled, furrowing his brow. “What?”

“Nothing, I just –” He shook his head and gave up in the middle of the sentence.

“What, you thought I’d find another rich dude or something?” He creased his brow, looking genuinely confused, not mad. “Wait, do you actually think I’m an escort?” He asked as an afterthought, and Tony could deny it, but he didn’t think he could make it believable anyway.

“Not exactly, but – something like that, yeah,” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck, feeling embarrassed for the first time in a long time, and braced himself for the explosion, but Peter just showed him a sad little smile.

“You thought I was with him for his money,” he stated and Tony winced, because when Peter said it out loud, when those words came out of his mouth, they sounded so wrong. Like they could never be true. “It’s okay, I guess he thought that, too, and so did everyone else. My coworkers, the press, even some of my friends,” he scoffed, folding his napkin in half just to have something to do with his hands. “I guess I’m just a stupid kid who watched way too many Disney princess movies growing up. I blame my aunt, honestly.” He tried to joke and Tony shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have judged you, it wasn’t my place. I just thought it was so odd for a guy like you to be with a guy like him.” Such a beautiful, brilliant, young man like you deserved so much better than him, was what Toy didn’t dare to say.

“I loved him,” he said and it shouldn’t have stung, it shouldn’t have made Tony’s stomach twist and turn, and his heart clench, but it did. It fucking did. “Or I thought I did. Turns out I got it all wrong. I thought we were going somewhere, but he wasn’t really serious about me, which became very clear when he decided not to take me to the gala, so.” He blushed slightly and dropped his eyes to the table, still folding the napkin until it was impossible to keep folding.

“Yeah, but you still came. Why?” Tony insisted, because he really wanted to figure him out, he needed to, because Peter wasn’t who he thought he was, he wasn’t that person Tony was so quick to judge and he needed to know who he was, after all. Because – he just needed to.

“I guess I – I just thought... He would regret it or something, you know. Once he saw me.” He gave a self-deprecatory laugh, rubbing a hand across his forehead as if trying to physically erase something from his mind. “Like… A stupid rom-com or something, you know. Like, the happy ending scene. Whatever. It’s stupid.” He ran a hand through his hair, blushing even harder. “Again, I blame my aunt, she was the one who made me watch all these stupid movies.”

Tony wanted to say it wasn’t his fault that everybody else was fucked up and couldn’t see what an amazing person he was, but the waiter chose that moment to interrupt them with their food, which was good, because Peter perked up and actually looked excited, rubbing his hands together and looking at Tony expectantly.

“Try it, tell me if it’s not the best pizza you’ve ever had in your life.” Tony smiled at his excitement and grabbed a piece of the cheap pizza. As expected, it tasted like garbage, but he wouldn’t tell Peter that, obviously.

“Sorry, kid, it’s not. But I’m forty-five and I’ve been to Italy, so don’t look so bummed.” Peter deflated slightly, grabbing a piece of his own and taking a huge bite out of it, like it was the best meal ever.  

“Fine then, the best pizza in New York?” He compromised and Tony was a hundred percent sure it was most definitely not the best pizza in New York, but –

“I’ll give you that.” He conceded and Peter beamed.

“I’ll take it.”

They fell into an easy conversation about engineering and about Peter’s expectations for the future, which ended up turning into a conversation about what Tony did after college. The older man told him about all the steps he took to get where he was, working for other companies, having his ideas stolen, not getting credit for his work, quitting multiple jobs, almost going bankrupt trying to get Stark Industries off the ground and then finally being in a comfortable place in his professional life at 45 – better late than never.

“I think it’s amazing how you managed to turn your life around, you know. It’s really inspiring.” Peter seemed truly moved by Tony’s story, and the older man knew it was quite impressive, but he just shrugged it off.

“Yeah, boo-hoo, but now that you know my sob story, you have to tell me yours.” He took another bite of the terrible pizza and decided that sometime after the third slice, it became almost edible. Key-word: almost.

“Well, there’s not much to say and it’s definitely not as interesting or as successful as yours, but let’s see. My parents died when I was really young, I think I was around four – I’m ashamed to say I don’t really remember them. I still have their pictures, but I just – you know.” Peter shrugged and, yeah, Tony knew. After his mom died, he couldn’t look at pictures of her for years; at the same time that he wanted to remember her, he kind of wanted to forget. “I was raised by my aunt May and uncle Ben, but he was killed in a mugging when I was ten. Fuck, my life story is such a downer, are you sure you wanna hear it?” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair, and Tony smiled softly.

“As long as you wanna tell it, kid.” Peter took a deep breath, as if considering if he actually wanted to tell that story, but finally seemed to decide to go on.

“So, my aunt May was a nurse, she struggled to make ends meet, but she was just – amazing, you know? She was like a mother to me, she never left me wanting for anything, specially when it came to my education, which was how I was able to get into college so early. Anyway, she passed away almost two years ago from a stomach cancer. So… It’s just me now. I’m the last Parker standing.” He smiled sadly, dropping his gaze to stare at the slice of uneaten pizza in his plate.

“Fuck, that’s rough, kid. But hey, if it’s any consolation, I’m also the last Stark standing. Maybe we should start a club or something,” he joked to try to lighten up the mood and the young man giggled, looking back at him with a smile.

“Like, the Parker-Stark Lonely Orphans Club?” He asked cheekily and Tony laughed. “Anyway, a year ago I got into Oscorps’s internship program, which was a dream come true, but then I screwed it up by sleeping with the boss, because I’m an idiot. The end.” He snorted and, again, Tony was a little surprised to learn that Peter got the internship before he met Norman, but at that point, it wasn’t much of a shock, he should have seen it coming.

“So, can I ask what happened? Between you and Norman? What made you quit?” Tony asked carefully. As the night went on, he felt like he and Peter were getting more comfortable with each other, more comfortable than they could ever be all those months before, when Tony made such an effort to despise him.

“Ugh, it’s… Well, it’s embarrassing.” It was barely a whisper. Peter’s cheeks were bright red and he wouldn’t meet Tony gaze.

“It’s okay, you don't have to tell me if you don’t want to.” He reassured him, feeling confident enough to place a hand on top of his on the table. Peter stared at them for a few seconds, before looking up at him.

“It’s… Something he did at the party. He kept pushing me to this guy, you know. Some business partner or whatever. And I didn’t quite understand what he was trying to accomplish, but then I went to the bathroom and this guy followed me there and he – he tried – to kiss me. And to touch me.” He blushed, gaze fixed on the table between them once again. Tony tightened his grip on his hand. “When I pushed him away he said something about Norman not knowing how to teach his whores good manners. When I tried to talk to Norman – he said I owed him.” He frowned, lifting his eyes to look at him. “For all the expensive gifts, and nice restaurants, and everything he did for me. He said it was the least I could do.” He scoffed, but his cheeks were pink, like maybe some part of him believed that – believed that while he thought he was dating someone he loved, he was actually whoring himself out to him.

“That’s why you were so upset at the party,” he whispered, realizing what a massive jerk he’d been after that. The kid must have been feeling like shit that day. Used and expendable and lost. And then Tony treated him like a fucking cheap hooker.  “Peter… I’m so sorry for that night, I didn’t –“

“It’s okay, I’m fine now. Don’t get me wrong, it was a total dick move, but I already knew you were kind of a dick, so no alarms, no surprises.” He smirked, trying to lighten the mood, but nothing he could say could ever absolve Tony of what he’d done, of the harm he’d caused him that night. Fuck, if he was Peter, he would never have talked to him again, let alone agreed to dinner. His behavior the previous night suddenly made perfect sense. “I quit the next day, put his stupid gifts in a box and sent it to the tower, he can choke on them for all that I care.” He shrugged, trying to appear non-nonchalant, but Tony knew the whole thing must still fucking hurt, it had only been two weeks.

“I sincerely hope he does,” Tony offered and Peter laughed out loud, throwing his head back in delight.

When they walked to the car at the end of the night, Tony could feel that something had changed between them. He felt like all that time he knew Peter he had been missing a huge chunk of information, which made all the difference in the world. He could see Peter now, the real him. The ride to his place was taken in comfortable silence and when Tony parked his car, neither of them moved. The older man turned towards the younger one and licked his lips. He knew the answer to the question he was gonna ask, he knew he deserved it, but still –  

“Can I get you number?” It wasn’t part of the plan. The plan was to apologize, show the kid a good time as a way of making it up to him for the terrible things he said and move on. Go back to work, go back to his life, but now – now he was stuck. Looking at Peter and seeing a whole new person. Someone he wanted to get to know more, but knew he didn’t deserve.

“Oh, I don’t know, do you think you can afford it?” Peter teased, and Tony actually blushed, embarrassed to remember how much of a dick he’d been.

“Ugh, I said I was sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing a hand across his face, only to hear Peter’s delighted chuckle.

“I’m just kidding, don’t worry. But I don’t think It’s a good idea, Tony.” He bit his lower lip and Tony nodded to himself, because, yeah, he knew it wasn’t. It shouldn’t be. Because Peter deserved so much better than him. “But this was nice. Thank you for caring enough to apologize.”

“It was the least I could do.” He gave him a small smile and was taken by surprised when the young man unceremoniously leaned in and kissed him. Tony didn’t waste any time burying his hand in his hair, pulling him impossibly close as their lips brushed softly and tongues met in a sweet embrace. The young man pulled away after just a few seconds, though, and Tony didn’t even have the courage to open his eyes and acknowledge it was over. “Are you sure this isn’t a good idea? Because it sure tastes like a great fucking idea. I would know, I have great ideas all the time, ask anyone.” Tony whispered and Peter laughed, his face was still so close the older man could feel his breath on his lips.

“Goodbye, Tony. Good luck with your company,” he smiled, as he opened to door to get out of the car.

“I’ll miss you on my team.” Which was to say, I’ll miss you. Plain and simple.

“I’m sure you’ll find a replacement in no time.” I won’t, I don’t want to. I want you. “Gotta go now, I have work in the morning. Bye!” He got out and closed the door behind him, waving one last time before he walked away.

“Goodbye, Peter,” he whispered to the empty car, hands clutching the steering-wheel as he watched the boy disappear into the building.

--*--

Working at Oscorps was not the same without Peter. First, because he was actually a very good intern who helped a lot with every single task Tony assigned him. Second, because even though he hadn’t noticed it before, he always looked forward to talking to him. To learning those tiny little pieces of information the boy let escape through his lips once in a while, only to blush profusely and apologize seconds later.

Still, he kept going. Norman never bothered him, which was nice, and as the remaining months passed, Tony’s name became more and more recognizable, he closed so many deals over the course of that year, he was able to more than double his team and the office and lab they used to work got way too small for them. He started looking for some other place to go and the more he thought about it, more sense it made to move SI headquarters to California. Most of his partners were there and he would also be closer to his suppliers and many other business opportunities.

So after talking to Pepper, Nat, Rhodey, Happy and Bruce – “the original six”, as they liked to call themselves, including Tony –, he decided to move right after his contract with Oscorps was done in December. Those last few months were crazy and got crazier when B.A.R.F. was finally announced to the public. Both the product and the technology behind it sent Stark Industries to a whole other level, their stocks skyrocketed and Tony literately became the richest man in New York overnight, even richer than Norman – and that was saying something.

Which was why, when December rolled around and Osborn invited him to dinner to discuss the possibility of renewing the contract and he showed up with some supermodel hanging off his arm, he couldn’t help but think of the first time he was in that same situation. He remembered how nervous he was before the dinner, how excited he felt when they closed the deal and how gorgeous Peter looked that night. But he remembered, specially, what Osborn did to the younger man months after that. How he’d treated him, what he’d said to him.

“So, what do you say, Stark? Wanna be partners for five more years?” Osborn’s smile was kind of creepy, he hadn’t noticed it before. He offered him a hand and Tony stared at it for what felt like hours, although it was probably only a few seconds. It was great fucking deal, way better than the one he had before, but –

“You know what, Norman?” He smiled to himself and took a deep breath, wishing he was wearing his smart glasses so he could record his reaction. “Fuck you.” He beamed, standing up from his chair, admiring the expression of shock and horror on the older man’s face. He buttoned his suit jacket and, still smiling like a madman, left the restaurant like he owned the place – which he could, if he wanted.

On his last night in New York, he decided to look for Peter. He didn’t want to pressure him or anything, but they hadn’t seen each other in almost six months, so maybe something might have changed for him. Tony still couldn’t get him out of his head, each day that passed he wished he’d done things differently, so fucking differently.

He wished he’d been nicer, from day one. He wished he had lived up to his expectations, his hero worship. He wished he could have been a decent human being, a shoulder to cry on that night he was so vulnerable and broken. He wished he could have wooed him and gotten him to fall in love with him, the way he’d fallen for him.

He wanted a second chance, he really did, but when he knocked on the door of the apartment the boy used to live, the place where Tony had said goodbye to him all those months ago, some stoned college kid answered the door. When he asked about Peter, the boy just shrugged.

“He moved away a while ago, dude. Got a job somewhere or something.”

So that was it. Tony didn’t have his number and Peter wasn’t on social media – at least Jarvis couldn’t find him, and he sure as hell looked. So he gathered the last of his stuff and left New York for good, mind wandering to those few moments he’d spent with Peter, thinking how different things could have been if he hadn’t been so quick to judge.

No point crying over spilled milk.

Stark Industries flourished in L.A. All of Tony’s crazy, genius ideas were funded, so he finally finished his arc reactor project – something he’d started as a teen, but didn’t have the resources to continue – and started a line of electronics – computers, cellphones, tablets, all the good stuff. After the first couple of months, he bought a mansion in Malibu, just because he could, and finally felt like his life was heading in the right direction.

Still, it felt like there was a Peter-shaped whole in it, which was insane, they’d only known each other for a little over five months, it made no sense how much he missed him, they hadn’t seen each other in almost a year, and still there were nights he could fucking smell Peter’s scent on his sheets – sheets he’d never even laid on. Could feel his soft skin under his fingertips as he hugged his pillow close to his chest, the way he wished he’d held him that night when he stormed off, humiliated and hurt. Those nights he couldn’t sleep, could only stare at the ceiling, trying to figure out time travel, just so he could go back and fix things.

Once he was settled in California, he was invited to give lectures in universities all over the country. MIT was first, then NYU, Stanford, Yale, UCLA and, finally, Caltech in late November. His lectures were usually about the arc reactor, clean energy was in fashion, everybody was talking about it, and the fact that he figured out cold nuclear fusion was still a very hot topic.  

It was still early in the evening when he finished his lecture at Caltech, a few students stayed behind to ask him questions or just talk for a bit, Tony had become sort of a celebrity for nerds, and he didn’t mind staying a little late talking to those starry-eyed kids, so it was already dark out when he was done. When he thought he was alone, he started gathering his things, thinking of somewhere he could eat in Pasadena before he headed back to Malibu, when he heard it. That sweet, unmistakable voice.

“That was a hell of a lecture.” Tony turned around slowly, almost afraid to be wrong, but there was no way he’d be. Peter was there, staring back at him, standing by the door with his arms crossed over his chest and a slight blush on his cheeks. “Hey. Long time, no see.”

“You ran away from me, kid.” He breathed out, letting his hands fall to his sides, even though they itched to touch, his legs were shaking with desire to run to the younger man, but he stood still, afraid that if he moved, the spell would be broken and he would realize that Peter was just an illusion.

“That’s a big ego you got there if you think I’d make such a dramatic life change just for you, old man.” He stepped into the room slowly, until he was standing right in front of Tony, close enough to touch, but neither of them did. “I’m getting my Masters here. I heard you were coming for a lecture.”

“So you came by to say hi?” Tony cocked his head to the side and Peter chuckled, nodding.

“Yes. Hi.” He perched himself on the desk Tony was using during his lecture and it was the older man’s turn to move to stand in front of him.

“Hi.” He smiled, stepping closer, paying attention to see if the young man was in any way uncomfortable by his actions, but he didn’t even flinch.

“So, I heard you ditched Norman.” He crossed his arms over his chest again, a small smile on his lips.

“I believe my exact words were ‘fuck you’, actually.” That made Peter laugh, throwing his head back and exposing his long throat. “I missed you kid.”

“Couldn’t find an intern to make you coffee and fawn over you while you were at Oscorps?” He jabbed a finger in his chest and Tony caught it in his hand.

“Couldn’t find you. Anywhere. And I looked.” He confessed, not letting go of his hand, not looking away from his eyes. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you and all the things I didn’t say.”

“Such as?” Peter asked coyly, biting his lower lip as he looked at Tony from under his eyelashes.

“I’ll miss you. Don’t go. Give me a chance. I’ll make this work. I’m in love with you. Things like that, you know.” He didn’t care that he was putting his heart on the line, he couldn’t choke on those words anymore, and if that was the last chance he ever got to say them, at least he could sleep peacefully at night. Peter blushed deeply, lips parted in shock, but then his face stretched in a slow, lazy smile, eyes focused on Tony’s.

“Can I buy you coffee?” He asked quietly, blinking slowly, and the older man shrugged, pretending to consider it.

“Depends. Can I buy you dinner? And don’t you dare ask if I can afford it.” He closed the distance between them as Peter laughed out loud, head thrown back in delight.

“I was just gonna say yes,” he promised, as he placed his hands on Tony’s shoulders, allowing him to come stand in between his legs. “Which is something I regretted not saying.” He confessed. “So, coffee first?”

“Yeah, coffee first.” Tony leaned down to kiss his lips, and they tasted so familiar, so right, and he knew it was crazy, because they shouldn’t, they were together for such a short time and Tony wasn’t a fucking teenager, he was a grown man, and he didn’t know how in the fuck he fell in love so hard and so fast, but he did. “It’s so good to see you.” He stole yet another kiss from him and felt the younger man’s lips stretching in a smile under his. Suddenly, he was reminded of a conversation they’d had over a year earlier. “So, do you think this is the happy ending scene in our movie or what?” He asked a beaming Peter, who pretended to examine his face carefully, before answering with a grin.

“I guess we’ll see.”

#starker #ironspider #peter parker x tony stark #sugar baby au

[sweetestlamb]

How Do I Look?

Summary: Mun Yeong and Gang-Tae spend their first weekend apart. Things go really well.

Author's Note: I intended for this to be less gutter filth but I'm a pervert so you got this instead. Sorry. A little. I'm the worst. I know. I promise to try to stop being a hornball and write something sweet and wholesome. 

P.s. I just did some edits, so any errors should now be fixed. Thank you to everyone sharing my story, y’all are the realest.  I’ll be posting this on AO3 as well to get that fandom recognized soon. 

The sunlight shines intensely through the windows and Mun Yeong wonders how much it would cost to stop that, just turn off the sunlight that perpetually ruins her sleep every morning. Those ridiculous birds are always chirping outside her window clearly in cahoots with the sun. With menacing eyes she glares at them all.

The cursed Castle is quiet. Still. It is her first weekend alone. She sighs in frustration, annoyed that he planned on keeping his word and going back to the live- in cook and two-faced bitch's house. Threatening to kill him if they left hadn’t convinced him and that was the only thing she could think of to say to him. What other reason could she ask him to stay?

Stay for me.

No. That would scare him away too. Or maybe his answer would scare her. All the same, now she was alone in this huge Castle and she didn't know if she could stand it. The castle felt so much more alive with them here. When they cleaned that day it was as if breathe had been pumped into the lungs of the castle. It no longer felt like she was living in a cemetery.

She didn't want to share him and especially not with that bitch.

Eyes scanning the room, she thought of something to do to pass the time. I want to go and kidnap him. But. He had seemed excited at the thought of seeing Jae-Soo , his dimwitted friend who ran a chicken farm or something. It must have been nice to have a friend. Someone who wanted to be around you, not for money or prestige just because they liked you. She tried to remember if she ever had anyone like that. Anyone besides him.

Lost in her thoughts her eyes landed on her shoes. Black heels, patent leather, five inch heel, crimson red bottom. She had seen them in a store and knew she had to have them. The fact that they were in someone else's hands was a minor inconvenience that a well placed glare solved. The last ones too. Destiny. What do you think you're doing? The minor inconvenience had gasped as she placed the heels on her own feet and found they were a perfect fit. Some things were meant to be.

Shopping, could be fun.

Her over-sized sunglasses dwarfed her face intentionally, she did not need fans approaching her. She knew that her face would do a great job at deterring them as well, resting bitch face was her natural face. She had already been to many different stores. Bags hung from her hand as she approached the next store. Heels clicking rhythmically, she entered and a slow "wow" left her lips as she looked up at the outfit adorning the body of a mannequin.

I want it.

"How can I help you today ma'am?" A young woman approached her with eager steps, plastic smile stretched across her face. She didn't answer verbally, instead pointed at the mannequin. The woman nodded and retrieved an exact replica for her.

"We also have changing rooms." She stated pointing to the rooms in the back but she shook her head no. "I will take it." A smiled dipped across her face that would make the Cheshire cat proud. Now she knew exactly now to have some fun.

Gang-Tae laughed as Jae-Soo swung his arms around recalling the customer who tried to bring their cat in for a free caricature drawing from Sang-Tae.

"Pizza is not for feline companions. Most cats are lactose intolerant and you should not give them any dairy. They will vomit or even have diarrhea and it is very painful for their butthole. You must not give your cat any dairy products." His brother quickly added from his corner, where he laid on his stomach rapidly reading another one of Mun-Yeong's stories.

He snickered and imagined how disgusted she would look if she were here. Rose petal lips twisted in distaste. It had been hours since he had left her and he wondered what she was doing? Sharpening knives? Scaring small animals?

But he didn't have to wonder for long because his phone vibrated in his pocket and her name lit up on the screen. She would probably try to convince him to come home again, ignoring his decision to leave on the weekends. Not understanding that he needed time away, being around her all the time was difficult enough. Seeing her every morning and every night was hard. It would be easy if he could convince his eyes to stop looking at her. But alas, they were disobedient. So the weekends were his only escape from her spell.

He carelessly opened her message and then pressed it shut. Feeling a flush run from the tips of his toes to top of his head. His breath hitched and his blood simmered. Was it possible to hyperventilate and pass out and die from lack of oxygen? He was about to figure out.

Maybe I'm dreaming right now. This is just another one of those dreams. I fell asleep and I'm dreaming.

He almost convinced himself until another message came. And with trembling hands he excused himself to the bathroom and shakily sat on the toilet. Taking a deep calming breathe, fortifying himself only to crumble like a sandcastle when he opened the message.

How do I look?

Her feet were encased in red heels, dainty like the rest of her. But it was the rest that felt him grasping for breathe. A red corset hugged her body making her already small waist look impossibly slim delicate even, but he knew better, her panties were connected to thigh high matching stockings.He had never seen anything this tempting.  He briefly wondered how they would feel on his skin. How would she feel on his skin?

When the phone began to vibrated in his hands, he almost dropped it. He stared down at the phone, fear and lust both raging in his body. Until he finally accepted the call, I must be crazy.

"What are you doing?!" He exclaimed genuinely wondering why she wanted to kill him today.

"Did you like the picture? I got this today. If you were home you could have helped me put it on." She proceeded, ignoring his question and proceeding to kill him further. "But don't worry, if you hurry home you can still help me take it off."

"Stop. Stop talking." He begged. 

She didn't.

"It feels amazing on my skin." She moaned into his ear with that voice of hers, and he felt shivers run though his body just like when she had blown in his ears. "You can't see but it's crotch-less too, so easy access. We don't even need to take it off to have fun!"

He didn't understand how she could say these things as if she were a salesperson simply listing the benefits of the product. Was it possible to die from over-stimulation? Was today his last day? He forced himself not to look at the picture to find the slit she was referring too.

"Please stop." He pleaded again, pleading to both her and his traitor of a body that was now awake and fully aboard with everything she was selling. He glared down at the tent in his jeans, wondering if that would kill him actually, lack of blood available to flow to his brain.

"I miss you, come home."

Those words went straight to his heart without his permission. She really was an unstoppable force. It probably didn't help that he wasn't trying hard to stop her. Or at all.

"I can't." He really, really wanted to. The pin was precariously on the edge. 

She huffed on the other side of the phone and he expected her to explode, volatile, a ticking time bomb ready to detonate but instead she quietly responded, "How do I look?"

"Amazing. You look amazing." He said honestly, stupidly. It took everything in him to not open the message again and see the tantalizing photo again, imagining her wrapped around him as he slammed her into the nearest wall, listening to her moans as he played with her sweet wetness through the new deadly panties. His breathes were a fast staccato, and she moaned at the sound, "It would look even better on the floor."

He didn't get a chance to reply because there was a loud knock on the door.

"Gang-Tae are you okay? We're going to get food, do you want to come?"

He cleared his throat before answering, "No, no you go ahead. I need a minute."

Jae-Soo was silent for a second before he responded, "Okay make sure to use an air freshener we'll see you soon."

He signed in relief glad that he didn't ask any questions. Better they thought he was having stomach problems. 

"Only a minute? That fast huh?" She teased. 

"Stop saying nonsense!" He angrily retorted, blush blooming all over his face and chest. Embarrassed that it really would be that fast, seeing her like that had awakened something primal in him.  His erection wasn't going to go down on its own and he didn't have much time until Jae-Su and his brother were back. Shame washed over him.

"I...um have to go"

"No you don't. I just heard you, you told them to go ahead because you need a..... Oooooooh" He squeezed his eyes shut at her sound of recognition, he felt powerless. His hand was already creeping down to his heavy erection. It felt like it was throbbing now and the sounds she made naturally weren't helping.

"I can stay. I can help, do you want me to send more pictures? I can take one in nothing, if you'd like." She offered and he could hear her moving, and he shouted before she could actually kill him, "NO!!" He didn't want the first time he saw her....like that to be an image. He wanted to be able to touch. If she sent that picture he might run to the castle and....no. He didn't need anymore photos.

"I have to go. Goodbye." He repeated, hand reaching its target and the pleasure was instant, his knees buckled as he almost fell to the ground.

"You sound incredible, send me a photo too. I want to see."

He looked down at this dick, head disappearing and reappearing in his grip. Fluid dripping down the sides, easing his way.

"Okay. You sound like you're having fun. I'll leave you to it. Come home tomorrow." And just like that she was gone. He groaned wanting to shout her name and maybe cry a little. Why did she have to play with him like this, he couldn't handle this. The phone fell from his grip, clattering to the side.

He pulled and twisted, feeling the end approaching as he tugged himself to completion, images of Mun-Yeong spread across his bed with him thrusting into her filling his head. She would be wild under him, giving as good as she got, nails clawing at his back.

With, a final thrust he felt his cum flew out, surging though his body violently, ultimately bringing him to his knees. "Ko Mun-Yeong!!" He rasped out as his vision blurred and after a long minute he opened his eyes, looking down at the mess he had made.

Cum stains dripped down his phone.

"Wow"

He looked down at the phone in shock.

She never hung up.

#it s okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #ko moon young #moon gang tae #iotnbofic #morefilth #kdrama #im offically obsessed #itsokaynottobeokay #it's okay to not be okay #it's okay to not be okay fanfiction #ko mun yeong

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 12

[Just in time for Sinday, this chapter is more self-indulgent smut! It has a point. It really does. And the end is wholesome-ish. So you know. :3 Probably cheesy again but what can ya do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

EDIT: wow knew I would do that. It’s not sinday. I mean it is somewhere. But whatever. I hit post.]

Vegeta

"You're okay with Raditz going to find his brother?"

Vegeta snorted, checking the numbers on his key again to ensure they were still heading in the proper direction. "It's no big loss to us. He'll be the one taking the hit to his pay." He turned the corner and Nabooru followed, their rooms grouped together. 

They had arrived at their destination a day early and, at the behest of the other two Saiyans, he agreed to using the down time as a last hurrah for Raditz before his trip to a planet called Earth. Round trip, they expected him to be away nearing half a year, two months to leave their current location to make it to Earth and around four to return to the base they were currently stationed at. And that was if they weren’t moved.

"Raditz is more useful than you give him credit for. And don't give me that, 'he's weak' excuse. He's been running with you guys for decades and done fine. He's not so bad."

Vegeta ignored her, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. "If this brother of his exists, he's likely dead." He paused in front of the door matching the number on his key and slipped it into the slot. The door slid open. "Or he failed what should have been an easy mission for even a child to accomplish, meaning he's worthless to us."

He only spared a glance over his shoulder when she followed him into the room. "Then, what's the point of him going?"

"There probably isn't one. But another Saiyan is another Saiyan. If he's out there, it means more firepower for us." Against Frieza. Whatever challenges they faced beyond usurping the tyrant. He knew he didn't need to voice these things; she would catch on.

The Gerudo crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed, palms pressed into the mattress behind her. He narrowed his eyes briefly, but huffed and strode to the window. "Mm, makes sense. Never know what we may face down the line."

"Precisely." He allowed his tail to slip from around his waist. "Anything else you need?"

"No." He glanced over his shoulder, the corners of his lips drooping further downward and dark brows lowered. She tilted her head back and, seeing his deadpan expression, amended, "I mean, not really. Just wanted to...talk."

“Talk,” he repeated, disbelief dripping from his tone. His tail swayed in content arcs. He smirked and turned back toward the bed, arms folded over his chest. “Well, go on then. Talk.”

She scrunched her nose and flopped down on the mattress, her head hanging over the edge. His eyes remained fixed on hers in silent challenge and he could see the gears working behind those golden eyes, struggling to come up with a viable topic of conversation when chatter wasn’t on her mind. For some time after their first tryst, they both successfully remained faithful to maintaining the only once rule. For a time, that single coupling seemed to sate his physical desire for sex in general as well as how it had revolved specifically around fooling around with her. After disposing of the gloves he foolishly left on during, as her scent lingered too strongly on the leather even after washing them, everything returned to normal. The fantasies died down. She invaded his dreams less often, the return of his nightmares somehow better and less of a distraction. He didn’t leave their spars frustrated, craving the nearest cold shower or body of water he could hunt down. His behavior, his insatiable cravings, disgusted him. He felt weak and lacking control of his own body. 

Thus, when he finally caved, bent her over the bed, and finally indulged, his issues seemed remedied. Months went by without incident and he was convinced his theory worked, pure professionalism between them returned. Until a spar got too heated. Until they both drank more than they should. Until their “harmless” flirtations and teasing or an argument ignited more in the pair of them than a passing flare of desire. At the very least, they remained infrequent. Few and far between. Quick and with as little extra contact as possible.

He chuckled, switching his scouter off and removing it. He closed the gap between himself and the bed and did the same with hers, keenly aware of her head next to his thigh as he did. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

"That's what I was hoping for." She grinned up at him and he rolled his eyes. He headed for the bathroom and dropped the scouters off in the furthest corner, shutting the door behind him upon his return. Nabooru had pushed herself back up to a seated position. "When you barely argued with Nappa and Raditz, I figured you were either in a decent mood or tired. I gambled on the former."

Vegeta grunted and peeled his gloves off, a process closely watched by the woman seated on his bed biting her lip. He didn't understand it, but he had noted her odd fascination with the simple, innocuous gesture. He didn't bother asking her about it either; time with Nappa and Raditz exposed him to all manner of kinks and fetishes that were far stranger and disgusting than this. He tossed them to the side and his armor followed.

"You know," Nabooru lifted her backside off the mattress and returned to the edge in front of him, "if you'll let me, I have a few tricks to out to put you in an even better mood."

"Tch, learn that line from Nappa and Raditz? That's what they say about me after I fuck you, isn't it? That was already the plan."

Her bottom lip poked out slightly, her brows knitting together. "You're good at ruining my mood," she huffed. "And I don't want to hear it. You're the one that confirmed it for them with your damn bragging."

Vegeta cocked his head back and laughed. "It was worth it to see the looks on their faces. They're at least smart enough to keep their big mouths shut about it."

His attention snapped back to her, a jolt of pleasure shooting from the tip of his tail. In his mirth, his traitorous tail swept out from behind him and toward Nabooru. The end rested in her palm, and her thumb caressed along the fur. Heat flooded his cheeks and he whipped the appendage away from her. Understanding flashed in her eyes, and he cursed his carelessness as he returned his tail to his waist. 

She at least had the good sense not to prod him about it, and resumed to her previous ramblings. "If they knew you hadn't seen me naked, I'm not sure they would be as impressed," she said. She extended her hand out and trailed her fingertips along to bottom hem of his battle suit's top. "It's almost tragic we've always kept our clothes on."

"That's on purpose." He tried to ignore the brush of her fingertips, the invasive considerations his mind whipped up in light of her suggestion and how her touch would feel on his bare skin. "I only allow this because I need the release, which is pathetic enough."

"So, you don't actually like it when we have sex? It's just a chore?" She tore her gaze away from her finger tracing the indentations of his abdomen and glanced up at him. Her bottom lip protruded once more in a pout, but Vegeta saw a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

"Of course I like it! I--!" 

She slid her hands beneath the spandex of his top and cut him off, and all his mind could manage to consider with coherence was how she still wore her gloves. Leather brushed over his abs and up to his chest and back down again before she removed them entirely. He tried to keep his features neutral, but judging by her soft giggle, he failed.

"Maybe if we switch things up just this once, we can change that. Rather than you just bending me over and fucking me from behind again." She peeled her gloves off with her teeth and kicked off her boots. She extended her leg out to his side, and he fell for the trap of allowing his eyes to follow her hands in their slow procession down her thigh, over her knee and calf, to remove her stocking. His tail unraveled from his waist again as she slipped the other off. 

Bending her knees back in, she sat up tall once more, gratefully breaking his trance. She pulled her armor over her head with a pleased sigh and tossed it with his. "What the hell does it matter?" he asked. He crossed his arms as she released her crimson locks from her ponytail. "It's all the same result in the end."

"Wait. So this is just how you've always done it with every partner you've had?"

"Tch, you say that like I've had so many partners before you." He rolled his eyes, ready to kick her out with his waning patience. "But to answer your question, yes, to some degree or other." 

Her silence on the matter only further tried his patience, as did the way she observed him with roving eyes and a minute tilt of her head. Warmth filtered into his cheeks again as his mind automatically assumed she judged him but was too cowardly to voice it since her expression only revealed some form of contemplation or another. His fingers twitched into his palms and, just as he decided to flip her over and shove her face into the mattress to get this over with and move on with his day, she stood and stepped forward, further closing the already minuscule gap between them. The difference in their height placed his line of sight directly on her ample chest, a detail he noted more readily without the near shapeless armor pulled over the battle suit. The skin tight fabric left little to the imagination, fitting snugly to her breasts and defining the musculature of her arms and abdomen. All details he never allowed himself to dwell on or appreciate. He had enough trouble keeping his mind off her in a sexual sense, and she wasn’t wrong in her assumption concerning his insistence on maintaining a strict routine when he succumbed to his base desires. He assumed the less tantalization he allowed--from what he saw and heard to the amount of contact and actions he permitted from her and those he took himself--the less likely he was to seek her out for meetings such as this. While the theory had some merit in the span of time he managed to maintain control, it still seemed flawed, considering his imagination still found purchase in lewd fantasies of her from time to time and he found himself fucking her more often than he thought he would.

Movement caused him to unintentionally flinch back. Her arms crossed as she grasped the hem of her top and she pulled it over her head, discarding it with the rest of her garments. She slid her briefs-style bottoms and tossed them aside, returning to her full height and resting her hands on her curvy hips. Once more his gaze locked in at eye level, staring at her exposed breasts and any protest from his former reservations went ignored. He drank in every inch of the exposed, bronzed skin, the scars littering her body in an array of sizes and shapes from a lifetime of fighting, her toned arms, legs, and thighs. His tail swept in content arcs behind him and his gaze trailed up her inner thighs and lingered at the juncture, the managed strip of red hair acting as an arrow to her slit.

His eyes snapped up to her face when she breathed a chuckle, reminding him of just how long he stared. Confidence poured from every inch of her, from the smirk on her lips and the spark in her eyes to the brush of her hair over her shoulder and the upward lift of her chest. It only added to her appeal. As much as part of him screamed to regain control, curiosity and lust won out; he wanted to see where she would take this. Experience all that he denied himself since early adulthood.

She leaned in and her lips brushed his ear, her breath tickling his skin behind his ear and on his neck, sending a chill up his spine, as she whispered, "Relax. You're so tense." Her fingertips swept along his jaw and settled in the center of his chest, eyes meeting his. "You can trust me, Vegeta."

"Can I?" He searched her face for any change, surprise or hesitancy in her claim, but her expression remained resolute. The tip of his tail glided along her outer thigh and wound around the back of it, swishing to caress the inside. He chuckled when she stifled her gasp by biting her lip. He didn't know how far he truly could trust her, not when he still struggled with fully trusting Nappa and Raditz. But he supposed with this he could. For the moment. A lust driven decision, perhaps, but one he didn't care to amend in the moment.

He stepped back and yanked his top off and his pants followed. His smirk returned. It was her turn to stare, her plush lips slightly parted. A further boost to his ego. "Fine. We'll do it your way this time."

"I really did catch you in a good mood." Her palms found his chest and shifted outward along the breadth of it, over his shoulders and down his arms and back up again. She shifted forward and dipped down to bury her face in the crook of his neck. He felt the wicked smirk of her lips when he stiffened at the mere graze of them on the sensitive, neglected area. She nipped at his neck, the jolt of pain a welcome mix with pleasure. "Or was that just because you finally got to see me naked?"

"You talk too much," Vegeta rumbled, head tilting to the side and successfully baiting her licks and bites up his neck. He grasped her ass and squeezed, kneading her cheeks with his palms. His tail ventured further up her inner thigh. He relished in the feel of her soft skin in his hands, pressed against his body. Her roving fingers and lips, her thigh brushing along his hip as she wrapped her free leg around his to coax him toward her, the places where their heated flesh met. She had him intoxicated already, but he shoved the associated panic away; he wanted more.

Nabooru hummed her amusement and awarded his gripe with a harsher nip at his neck. "If it's so horrible, I guess I'll just have to find something that keeps my lips and tongue too busy to talk," she said, hands gliding down his body. The rest of her followed suit, a trail of kisses between his pecs and down the center of his abdomen marking a path as she sank to her knees. She traced her index finger along his half-hard length, eyes hooded and chewing her lip. A shudder raced through him, a product of the contact and the sight of her kneeling before him and the lustful admiration in her eyes.

Her fingers wrapped around the base of his shift, her thumb caressing along the underside. She pressed her lips to the tip then parted them, gaze lifting to watch his as she rubbed the head over her tongue. He bit back a groan and the corners of her lips twisted up in a cheeky grin before she closed her mouth around him. 

Her eyes closed, and her hum of appreciation as she slid his length further into her mouth and toward the back of her throat shocked him with the vibration, his whole body tense and heat coiling tightly in his lower abdomen already. She pulled back again until only the head remained in her mouth and opened her eyes again, staring up at him through long lashes. She repeated the motions in a slow, steady bob as if relishing his taste. His reactions, and her hand stroked the remaining half of the length she didn't swallow.

The sensations were wholly new to him, oral another practice he never allowed for the same reasons he kept his trysts as impersonal and quick as possible. The motion and the created friction itself. The moist warmth. The feel of her tongue and the movement that offset the bobbing. The gentle suction and occasional vibration from a hum. The top down view and the desire in her half-lidded gold eyes. He hadn't expected it to feel so different from just fucking her, but it was bliss. He discounted Nappa's and Raditz's lurid praise of it as exaggeration, their stories written off as more of their disgusting habits he wanted no part of. Not that it stopped his mind from imagining it, offering a dream amongst the nightmares in which someone--these days typically the woman currently pleasuring him--sucked him off. Vulnerable position be damned. If she bit his dick off or found some other way to kill him, so be it. It felt too good to stop her at this point. 

Vegeta breathed a shuddering sigh and muttered curses under his breath as her ministrations already had him on the brink of a climax. He brushed stray strands of crimson out of her face, earning another appreciative hum around his cock, and he tangled his fingers into her hair. Perhaps sensing his oncoming release, Nabooru quickened her pace and occasionally took him deeper into her throat, another action he didn’t realize he wanted until she did it. His grip tightened in her hair and he grit his teeth, struggling just to keep his knees from buckling. She pulled off of him and allowed her hand to finish her work, her saliva acting as lubrication. Her free hand shifted behind him and wrapped around the base of his tail, another near sickening jolt of pleasure rushing from the pressure point. He growled a “Fuck!” and bowed forward, sharp canines bared as he came. His seed spilled from the tip in spurted rivulets, down his length and over her hand.

His breath hitched in his throat again and his cheeks warmed when she licked him clean with luxuriant strokes. She pulled back and she did the same with her hand, amusement shimmering in her golden eyes and a wicked smirk on her lips. It riled both his anger and desire.

"I thought you'd like that," she said, licking her lips once more and pushing up to her feet. "And you didn't--"

He didn't allow her to finish her statement. He didn't care to hear it. He shoved her onto the bed, knocking the wind out of her in a whoosh of air. He dropped a knee onto the mattress and grabbed her hips, yanking them back toward him and the edge of the bed. He caught a glimpse of the flash of shock on her features and the dawn of gleeful curiosity and her legs settled over his shoulders, her hair a streak of red behind her from being dragged toward him. He leaned in and lifted her hips up toward his face, the strong scent of her arousal and sight of her glistening slit stirring his own once more. 

Eager to taste her, he flicked his tongue over the lips, along the full length of her slit, and swirled it around the clitoris at the apex. Though another first, a glance down her body to the woman propped up on her elbows and watching him told him he had a decent start. She bit her lip but he still picked up the stifled moan she held at bay, and he felt her muscles tense up as he sucked on the sensitive nub. He left it behind with another flick of his tongue and dipped down to her entrance. He pushed his tongue inside, nose pressing instead to her clit. He purred and swirled his tongue inside her, relishing her taste and the purposefully muffled sounds his ministrations elicited from her. Another passing wish that he could hear her let loose, moaning and screaming his name…

Her fingers wove into his onyx spikes, the sensation of her nails dragging along his scalp earning her a pleased purr and his tongue’s attention back on her clitoris. He released her thigh with one hand to plunge his middle and third fingers inside of her, pumping them in tandem with the rhythm of his licking and sucking. He watched her with a growing smirk. She pushed her hips toward him needily, and her chest rose and fell rapidly with her panting. Her other hand gripped a handful of sheets in her hands, threatening to tear. Her eyes begged him to bring her to a climax, saying what her lips could not without the risk of the entire floor hearing her. He considered halting altogether, teasing her mercilessly until she begged him for release.

Instead, he decided on a compromise, reminded of his own growing need when her heels dug into his back with the spasm of her muscles in her thighs, abdomen, around his fingers. He curled his fingers once more, flicked his tongue over the sensitive nub, and pulled back, giving her ass a firm squeeze and slap before dropping her on the bed. The prince laughed as she blinked and stared up at him, mouth hanging open. 

He climbed on top of her the instant her expression shifted to annoyance, pinning her beneath his weight as he had so many times prior in their spars. This time, he didn't have to stop himself from indulging and taking full advantage of the sexual tension between them. He didn't have to hold back like he did then with the risk of an audience or as he did in their past relations. He didn't have to resist the urge to touch her. Lick her. Squeeze her. Bite her. Mark her. He could contend with tossing his inhibitions and control out the window later; for now he wanted to sate his hunger for her and make his idiotic fantasies a reality.

Vegeta swept his hands up her toned abdomen and cupped her breasts in his hands, massaging them and circling her raised nipples with his thumbs. She arched her spine to press into his touch, her head falling back and leaving her neck vulnerable. He dipped down and licked up the column of her throat, tasting her. He heard her whine as he dragged his teeth back down the same path, sharper canines just nicking through the surface of sensitive flesh in a thin scratch. He diverted his path to one side bit down, drawing a gasp from the Gerudo and blood from the bite. A dark chuckle rumbled in his throat as he lapped the sanguine liquid from her skin and sucked at the spot, her pulse drumming beneath his lips. A series of the same followed along her neck, the only disappointment in the fact that the higher collar of her battle suit would hide the tender splotches from view when she dressed. 

Her arms circled around his broad shoulders. Reaching down, he positioned himself at her entrance, the moist warmth on his tip enough to put his teasing to rest. He pushed inside of her, a pleased growl rumbling in the back of his throat to the tune of her gracious praise and her nails digging into his skin. He nipped her neck a final time and pressed his hand into the mattress to push himself upright, the pain of her unintentional scratches over his shoulder blades pleasing. Grasp on her hips, he began a slow pace with powerful, deep thrusts, observing her. Deciding if he truly had missed anything with always preferring to fuck her from behind. Her writhing fanned her hair out around her like a fiery corona stark against white sheets. She wore a playful smile on her lips, and her gold eyes were once more hooded and roving along his body, perhaps doing the same as him. Her breasts bounced with each thrust and he once more admired the toned muscles of her belly. She moved her hips in tandem with his motions, and his focus was drawn to the sight of his cock driving in and out of her. He kept his new preference for seeing it from this side to himself, though if she paid attention, she would see how long his eyes lingered in the constantly disappearing space between them.

Her hum snatched his attention upward, and her back arched as she languidly lifted up from the mattress. Her thighs tightened around his waist and she straddled his lap, knees on either side of his thighs. “Don’t stop,” she breathed in response to his protesting growl, half-hearted in the wake of where the new position placed her breasts. Her hips continued to rock at the same pace they had established before, and her hands rested on his shoulders, head bowed over his. “Just trust me and keep fucking me.”

Adjusting his position, he slipped his grip to her ass and squeezed, giving one side a punishing slap for once more changing things up and, in his mind, overcomplicating the process. “If you didn’t feel so fucking good, I would stop for all your damn indecision,” he responded huskily, leaning in to catch a pert nipple in his mouth and causing her laughter to morph into a moan. He shoved his hips upward with more force, his own chuckle rumbling in his chest when her nails sank into his back and she buried her face in his hair. 

The familiar heat coiled in his lower abdomen with the quicker pace and more powerful thrusts he implemented. The needy jerk of her hips and the tightening of her walls signaled the approach of her own orgasm and pushed him closer to his own. He swept a hand up to cup her breast, lips latching onto the other to tease her nipple with teeth and tongue. Within moments, she tossed her head back and just managed to slap her hand over her gaping mouth to stifle a pleasured scream, tremors racing through her body and her nails digging deeper into his skin. 

The sound of her climax, the scent of blood and sex, the picturesque curve of her body in the throes of her orgasm were almost too much. Shoving her back again, he pinned her wrists above her head and pounded into her with reckless abandon, free hand and tail pushing her thighs toward her abdomen. His smirk grew as he witnessed her struggle to maintain the last dregs of discretion they could with their secret trysts, biting her lip but the whimpers still eeking through. 

“Scream, woman,” he commanded. Confusion flashed over her flushed features and reminded him for a split second of the stupidity of it. Of the risk it invited. But he didn’t care. His addled brain convinced him he needed to hear her more than he needed to be careful. His grip on her wrists tightened and he reinforced his demand with a rougher pace. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

Perhaps tired of holding back herself, the tension that always loomed over their coupling dissipated with his okay to let loose. She arched against his restraints and let out a full-bodied moan, hearing one properly pushing him to speed up the thrust of his hips to elicit more and earn that scream he desired. His hand slipped down her thigh to slap her backside again. 

She writhed beneath him and she tensed again, her body snapping upward against his hand. “Fuck! Vegeta!”

It was like she pulled a trigger. With a final deep thrust and a roar, he came deep inside her, legs and arms threatening to give way beneath him and stars erupting over his vision. He released her wrists and thighs and his head fell forward, his breathing came in heavy pants and a hand planted near her head for support. He rolled his hips with hers as they rode out their orgasms, a purr vibrating in his throat with her mumbled praises.

The sensation of her fingers gliding up his back and into his hair again recalled his attention to her. "See?" She nipped his bottom lip. "That was fun, and if you try to tell me you didn't like it, I'll know you're lying."

"Hmpt…" The Saiyan pulled out of her and flopped onto the mattress next to her. "Of course it was enjoyable. Sex usually is to some degree."

He heard her snort and the bed shifted beneath them, and a glance over found her lying on her side propped up by her elbow. “Coming from the guy that lets himself get pent up to the point of near desperation?” Vegeta shot her a glare to which she grinned in the face of. “It’s a little hard to believe you think that at all. But I guess I’ve seen the proof firsthand multiple times now.”

“You spend too much time with Nappa and Raditz. It has warped your perception.”

She hummed and his entire body bristled when she idly caressed the tip of his tail as it passed her by in its content swooping along the sheets between them. “You’re probably right. Even though I don’t partake, it’s easy to forget not everyone wants to constantly use sex as a form a relaxation. Escape...or a distraction...”

Vegeta eyed her a moment longer, the last two a suspected confession than an observation. He didn’t care what purpose the sex served for her; he couldn’t say his motives for caving to his desires were much different. He found that the window of time offered him a moment of reprieve from his troubles: facing Frieza and the seeming impossibility of the task, conquering planets for a tyrant instead of his own empire, how he and his cohorts could possibly bring glory back to the Saiyan race with only three possibly four still living. As a bonus, she eliminated the daunting and annoying task of tracking down a favorable partner he felt worthy of his time. Far pickier about who he let warm his bed than his cohorts, the prince welcomed the ease seeking Nabooru out offered him.

He laced his fingers behind his head and averted his gaze to the brightly painted ceiling. “Embarrassing as it is for me, I suppose they could have worse vices. And soon we’ll thankfully only have to deal with Nappa’s idiocy for a while.”

“Mm. It will be different…” She sat up and stretched her arms over her head, and he drank in the stunning sight of her torso fully extending upward and gentle arch of her back. The hint of a smirk tilted the corners of her full lips upward. “I guess I should go take a shower like I said I was going to. I’m sure we’ll have to hear it from the other two at this rate, if not for the time we’ve spent up here then for hearing me scream like that. Are you going to come down for a few drinks?”

“We’ll see.”

Nabooru rolled her eyes and began to climb over him, but paused and straddled his waist. She observed him with a tilt of her head, smirk still on her lips and biting her bottom lip. Vegeta felt the cursed fire in his cheek as his mind betrayed him and willed her to shift half a foot backward. 

“What are you doing?” he grunted, considering shoving her off but not quite finding the will to do it. “Get the hell off and go take your shower.”

She dragged her nails lightly down his chest, a tingle racing down his spine. “Just checking something. I’ll definitely have to ride you properly next time.” 

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his. A first--for him in his lifetime and certainly for the two of them together--that, if the way she pulled back a few inches after mere seconds and stared at him with wide eyes, appeared to surprise her as much as it did him. A habit for her, he surmised, one that the ease of their encounter coerced her into. One he stupidly found he didn't hate as the sensation of the pressure of her lips on his lingered. His frown deepened before he cupped her cheek and leaned up to return it. He felt her physically relax on top of him as the tension dissipated once more and they parted a moment later.

As she climbed off of him and slid off the bed, instinct placed the denial of a next time on the tip of his tongue, but he had to swallow it. How many times had he claimed the same and, months later, he succumbed again? He doubted this time would be any different, so he settled on a huff and watched her gather her battle suit and armor.

"You know, I was thinking…"

Vegeta snorted. "Isn't that what got us into this mess?"

She slid the bottoms of her battle suit up her calves and thighs, snapping them over her backside. "And you should be thanking me for that." Her arms and then her head disappeared into her top and she tugged it down. "But seriously. I was thinking about how, maybe when this is all over, you, Nappa, and Raditz could make Hyrule your home base. I'm sure you'll all get along with the Gerudo well. And..."

She trailed off and sat on the edge of the bed to slide her stockings back on. Her words caused him to shift up to his elbow and narrow his eyes slightly.  She caught his gaze in the mirror across from them and rushed on. "I figured it might be nice for you guys to have somewhere you could call home after not having one for so long. A place to go in between...whatever you plan to do after."

“Getting a little ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? We barely have a plan,” he sneered, pushing himself upright to sit properly. His tail curled around his waist. In truth, he hadn’t considered such details of the future. Nothing horribly concrete, anyway. Killing Frieza and securing his empire for himself was as far as he had gotten. He hadn’t considered the idea of creating a new home for himself and the other two. And he wasn’t sure if it was simply because he had grown so used to jumping from base to base depending on where he and his cohorts were needed or if deep down, the cynical voice that occasionally overpowered his confidence and bravado had indeed convinced him his efforts to dethrone Frieza were pointless.

Considering her offer further, he didn’t doubt he and the other remaining Saiyans would fit in with her people. Being new to the Empire and recently conquered by the Gerudo, their loyalty to Frieza could be flimsy, making it a decent place to start for amassing his army as well. Many of Frieza’s loyalists would refuse to follow him so willingly, after all. And...perhaps a proper home wouldn’t be all that horrible. It would never be Planet Vegeta, but he at least was too young to have too much attachment to the planet itself anyway.

Nabooru swept her hair up toward the crown of her head and tied it in a loose ponytail. “I know. But I guess I can’t help but be optimistic.” She shrugged a shoulder and glanced back at him. “I want to go home. You want revenge and to take what you feel is rightfully yours. I think we’re both determined enough to succeed. And as far as that Super Saiyan thing goes, I feel if anyone can figure that out, it will be you.”

“Tch, of course I will. But that doesn’t mean you three can slack off and leave all the work to me.”

She snorted and pulled on her boots, rising to her feet and tugging her gloves over her hands. “I can’t speak for the other two, but I have every intention of keeping up with you. Maybe I’ll become a Super Gerudo.”

“Ha! We’ll see,” he taunted, smirk returning. If he unlocked the Super Saiyan transformation, she didn’t have a prayer in keeping up with his power, but he did admire her steadfast tenacity for improving. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, stretching. “I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you.”

“Wasn’t it you who specifically asked for my help with this?” She shot him a grin before disappearing into the bathroom and retrieving their scouters. She tossed the red to him and dangled her orange one from her index finger. "Must mean you think pretty highly of my prowess as a warrior, right? So why shouldn’t I be able to?"

"You do well enough for my purposes." Vegeta laughed at the annoyed tilt of her head and shoved passed her to the bathroom, keen on cleaning up himself. He would have enough to answer for without her scent lingering on him. “If you’re so determined, then you can spar me later. We’ll appease the fools and their stupid send off idea and then I can see just how close you are to making good on that claim of keeping up.”

“It has been awhile. I have been thinking about a few new techniques to try.” She hooked her armor over her forearm and strode to the door, her fingers lingering over the switch to open it. “You should think about what I said sometime, though. Even if not Hyrule or whatever number Frieza has given it by now...just knowing you have a home to go back to and a place to call home is….comforting.”

She didn’t wait around for his response, pressing the button and exiting the room. Vegeta gave the thought little more attention than he already had. Such sentimentality, such a longing would only hinder him at this point. If fighting to return to her planet, her home, motivated her to get stronger and aid him in toppling Frieza, so be it. For him, the word home had long since lost such meaning to him. He found his own comfort in dreaming of slaughtering Frieza and reclaiming what was meant to be his. In the freedom it would afford him to do as he pleased, to conquer for his own empire. Securing a proper home for him and the remaining Saiyans mattered little for the moment, a detail to be worked out upon his success and not a moment sooner. Or perhaps not at all, as the attachment would be a prime target for his enemies.

Vegeta clicked his tongue, closing the door behind him. He switched the shower on and stepped in, not bothering with adjusting the temperature or concerned with the frigid water pouring over him. He had no need for such distracting thoughts. The task at hand was daunting enough, improbable if not impossible. He had no room for thoughts outside of dealing with Frieza and surviving in the meantime. Though it would test his patience, he would end that bastard no matter how long it took. By whatever means necessary. Of that much he was sure.

#fic: recruited #// vegeta ♅ #:: nabooru ☀ #.:not sfw:.

[jaybear1701]

One-night stands are supposed to be quick, easy, and forgettable. 

No strings attached.  

And they’re certainly not supposed to show up on your first day at work--your first crime scene, no less--with a roguish grin and sparkling blue eyes that are just as mesmerizing in the harsh light of day as they had been after four cocktails in a dive bar.

"Oh,” is all Scylla can manage to breathe out when Dr. Izadora L’Amara aka the medical examiner aka Scylla’s boss for the next year introduces her to Raelle Collar. Detective Raelle Collar of the Salem Police Department. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in black slacks and a form-fitting blue oxford rolled part-way up her forearms. 

“Pleased to meet you, Dr. Ramshorn,” Raelle drawls as they shake hands, her grip lingering perhaps a second longer than necessary. “Again.” Her blonde hair--braided on one side like it had been on Saturday night--practically glows in the sun, and Scylla tamps down the memory of how much better it looked as a golden halo spread across a pillow.

“The pleasure’s mine,” Scylla says and then inwardly cringes when Raelle’s grin widens into shit-eating. She could have phrased it better. Much better. 

“I didn’t realize you two already knew each other,” Izadora says, arching one eyebrow.

“We’re acquainted.” Raelle winks at Scylla, whose cheeks burn. At least Scylla could blame it on the summer heat.

Izadora hums as she makes her way to the bodies. Raelle follows after with Scylla in tow, past a small crowd of curious onlookers and a television news crew that’s setting up their camera and mic’ing up their reporter.

They approach an alleyway barricaded with yellow police tape, which Raelle pulls up to allow Scylla and Izadora to duck underneath. 

“What do we have?” Izadora asks as Raelle leads them to the crime scene where three victims await, bodies arranged in a perverse triangle.

“Triple homicide,” Raelle answers. “And one we’ve identified as Constance Treefine, so you can imagine the press will have a field day if that gets out. Still waiting to confirm the identities of the others.”

“Treefine?” Scylla asks.

“A member of one of Salem’s oldest and wealthiest High Atlantic families,” Izadora explains.

Around them, patrol officers and crime scene investigators bustle about collecting evidence. 

“Think the cause of death is pretty obvious,” Raelle says. 

“We’ll be the judge of that, Detective Collar, thank you very much.” Izadora crouches down next to the closest victim and snaps on a pair of latex gloves. Scylla and Raelle follow suit. “Male, 40s,” Izadora says.“Ramshorn?”

“His larynx has been extracted.” Scylla prods at the wound carefully with a gloved finger. “The cuts are clean. Precise. Almost… professional. No signs of hemorrhaging, which is unusual. Cause of death unclear.”

Izadora nods in approval.

“If you say so, beautiful.” Raelle shrugs. 

Izadora returns to a standing position. “Dr. Ramshorn, complete your preliminary examinations and meet me back at the station.” She eyes Raelle. “And Detective Collar, please remember to be professional. Lest I have another conversation with Sergeant Quartermaine.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Raelle gives her a jaunty salute before turning all her attention back to Scylla, who pretends she’s not there as she continues a visual examination of the bodies. 

She notices a patch of red skin behind the victim’s ear and carefully lifts his lobe. “There’s some kind of marking here.” Scylla points at a black symbol of what appears to be a complicated sigil. “A tattoo, perhaps.”

“Fresh by the looks of it,” Raelle says before waving someone over. “Tal, get a shot of this.” 

One of the investigators with a DSLR approaches, a woman with long red hair tied in a ponytail. She crouches down and snaps a photo, the camera’s light flashing. 

“Fascinating,” she exclaims. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it.” She looks up and smiles at Scylla. “And I’ve not seen you before either.”

“Oh, sorry,” Raelle says. “Tally, this is our newest pathologist, Dr. Scylla Ramshorn. Dr. Ramshorn, this is Tally Craven, one of our best CSIs.” 

“Nice to meet you, Tally. I’d shake your hand, but...” Scylla raises her contaminated gloves. 

“No worries.” Tally nods in understanding. “Scylla’s a really beautiful name. Greek, right?” She tilts her head toward Raelle. “Didn’t you say you met a Scylla the other night?”

Heat prickles across the back of Scylla’s neck.

Raelle clears her throat. “Just a coincidence.”

“Huh,” Tally says. “Well, welcome aboard, Scylla. Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do for ya.”

She pops back up and wanders over to take photos of the other victims, leaving Raelle and Scylla together in an awkward silence. Raelle looks like she wants to say something more, but she doesn’t. Thankfully. 

“Well, I’ll let you get to it, Doc,” Raelle says before she walks away to confer with other officers.

And Scylla lets out a breath of relief, thankful that she can focus on the task at hand, trying her best to ignore the occasional looks Raelle throws her way. 

 ***

 Several hours later, Scylla's on her way to the morgue, eager to begin the autopsies. This is where she thrives, alone with her work, disengaging from emotions and focusing on science to  uncover secrets from the dead that only she can find. To bring them justice. And, she hopes, a modicum of peace.

She doesn't expect to bump into Ralle at the elevator, waiting for the car to arrive. 

“So, Doc, you left super early yesterday," Raelle says as she falls into step next to Scylla. "Missed out on some mean chocolate-chip pancakes.”

She has to nip this in the bud. Pronto.

“Let me stop you right there, Detective,” Scylla interrupts. “Saturday night was… fun." That's an understatement. Mind-blowing is more like it. Earth shattering. Game changing. "But nothing more. And the sooner we put it behind us, the better.”

Raelle’s smile falls from her all too-attractive face. “Sure, of course.” 

Scylla inwardly curses.

And that's that.

***

Or so she thinks. 

Every once in a while, Raelle stops by the morgue to check on the “windpipe” case--Raelle insists on that description even though Scylla has thoroughly explained that the trachea and the larynx, despite their proximity, are two very different anatomical parts. 

Raelle's professional and polite, despite Scylla's rejection, but doesn't quite get the memo that she's not supposed to be charming or cute or adorable.

One day, Raelle sets down a disposable cup of coffee on Scylla’s desk and pushes it toward her. A familiar logo adorns its sleeve: two coffee beans in a V-shape to form a heart. It’s from Scylla’s favorite shop, nowhere near the precinct. 

 "Kona, no cream, one sugar," Raelle props her hip on the desk. "I've heard on the grapevine it's your favorite."

"Are you stalking me, Detective?"

"Stalking?" Raelle mimes being stabbed in the heart. "You wound me, Doc. It's called gathering intel."

"Gathering intel," Scylla repeats, leaning back in her chair. She'd prefer to keep Raelle at arm's length, but a small part of her feels flattered anyway, an unwelcome warmth spreading through her chest."

"Learning about a new colleague."

"Temporary colleague. The fellowship's only one year."

"Still plenty of time for us to get to know each other better. And there are much easier ways than me tracking down your coffee order. Like, lunch? Or dinner?"

Scylla has to shut this down. Again. 

"Detective Collar."

"Raelle."

"Sorry?"

"You can call me Raelle. Like you did when we met."

"Detective." Scylla’s face heats up, remembering exactly how she had said Raelle’s name on that particular night. Had breathed it out like a prayer, and a curse. "You're sweet.. But I don't date coworkers." 

Let alone one-night stands.

"Who said anything about a date?" Raelle rubs her chin between her thumb and forefinger, just beneath the scar along her cheek that Scylla vividly remembers worshiping with her lips in the not-so-distant past. "You’ve gotta eat, don’t you? Or are you not friends with coworkers, either?”

Scylla rakes her teeth across her bottom lip, partly mortified by her assumption. 

“Tell ya what,” Raelle grins as she slides off the desk. “If you're ever in need of wholesome and completely platonic sustenance, you know where to find me."

Scylla picks up the coffee and removes the lid. She blows on it, breath skimming the heavenly brown liquid, and sips. It burns her tongue anyway.

   ***

"So, how are things?" Sergeant Anacostia Quartermaine takes a large bite of her turkey on wheat, elbows on her desk as she chews. 

Much like Anacostia, her office is practical, functional, and no-nonsense, with hardly any personal decorations except for a single picture frame on her painfully neat desk. In it is a photo of Anacostia and Scylla on her graduation day from medical school, both of them beaming at the camera.

Smiling at the memory, Scylla unwraps her own lunch, a vegetarian wrap. Extra mushrooms. "Not bad," she answers.

"Not bad?" Anacostia repeats. "We've got a serial killer on the loose and all you have to say about it is: not bad?"

"Fine, it's amazing," Scylla says in an overexaggerated manner. "A dream come true. In fact, it's beyond my wildest imaginings."

"And here you thought coming back home for your fellowship would be boring." Anacostia smiled. "You making any friends?"

Scylla waves that off, as she takes a bit of her wrap and mumbles, "I'm not here for that." 

"I know, but it wouldn't kill you to have some fun every once in a while."  Anacostias waggles a potato chip at Scylla before popping it in her mouth.

Scylla stops mid-chew. "That's hilarious coming from you."

"Excuse you. I have fun."

"Your idea of fun is organizing your kitchen pantry by alphabetical order. You don't get to judge me."

"I'm not judging. I'm encouraging, as is my right as your guardian."

On the other side of the glass wall that partitions Anacostia's office from the rest of the detectives' desks, Scylla notices Raelle enter the room. She doesn’t take note of Scylla at first, but when their eyes lock, she gives her a slow smile that still makes Scylla’s stomach flutter despite the self-imposed distance she placed between them. And Anacotia--being the savvy detective that she is--notices Scylla noticing Raelle noticing Scylla.

"Not making friends, huh?" Anacostia has a knowing smile on her face. 

"We’re not friends," Scylla says perhaps too quickly.

“If you say so,” Anacostia says. “Collar is one of my best detectives, but…”

“But?”

“Just be careful with her,” Anacostia  warns softly. “She’s not as tough as she’d like people to believe.” 

   ***

If there’s one thing Scylla learns about Raelle after her lunch with Anacostia, it’s that she definitely has quite the reputation. Not that Scylla’s going out of her way to “gather intel” on Raelle. Not in the slightest.

Raelle and her partner, Abigail Bellweather of the High Atlantic Bellweathers, are the two youngest detectives in the department. They’re on a hot streak for solving murders, but they also have a penchant for mayhem. Lots of mayhem. Rumor has it that they once managed to blow up two large trucks in the pursuit of a serial bomber, damaging parts of a newly paved stretch of highway. The mayor was, suffice it to say, far from pleased. Neither was Abigail’s mother, Chief of Police Petra Bellweather. Aside from their destructive tendencies, Raelle, apparently, is also notorious for charming the panties off half the women in the precinct and breaking hearts--if scuttlebutt can be believed. 

And Scylla takes it all as proof that she made the right decision to keep Raelle at arm’s length. Raelle is nothing but trouble disguised behind gorgeous blue eyes and a roguish smile. 

   ***

But Scylla also discovers Raelle is very much a study in contradiction. She plays hard, but works hard, too. On nights Scylla leaves late at night after a long day of autopsies or reports, Raelle’s always at her desk whenever Scylla walks past the detectives’ offices, typing furiously on her keyboard, candy bar wrappers and open cans of Red Bull sitting atop stacks of manila papers and folders.

One night, Scylla can’t resist and stops in the doorway. “Do you ever sleep?”

“These cases aren’t gonna solve themselves, Doc.” Raelle leans back in her chair, lips turning up, languid and easy. 

Scylla hates how Raelle’s smile still makes her heart skip a beat. “Detective, are you familiar with the law of diminishing returns?”

“Should I be?”

“Yes, for your well being,” Scylla says. “At some point, the benefits you gain from working start to decrease the more you overwork.” 

“Correct me if I’m wrong.” Raelle makes an exaggerated show of stretching out her arm and squinting at her wrist watch. It’s nearly midnight. “But it sounds like the pot calling the kettle black.”

Scylla rolls her eyes. “I’m just saying, breaks are good every now and again.”

“Doctor’s orders?” Raelle winks.

“Yeah, doctor’s orders,” Scylla can’t help but smile. 

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Raelle accedes. “Though, if you’re offering to help me comply with those orders...”

And that’s Scylla’s cue to leave before she can do anything she might regret. Again. “Goodnight, Detective.”

 ***

The murders continue. Always in the same pattern. Three unrelated victims, of every age, sex, race, national origin, religion, and socio-economic status, positioned to form a grotesque triangle. All with their vocal folds removed with minimal blood from the wound site. All with a different sigil tattooed somewhere on their bodies..

“Toxicology finally came back on the first victims.” Scylla hands a copy of the report to Abigail, adopting a neutral and professional tone that she hopes effectively masks her disappointment that a certain blonde detective is nowhere to be seen. “Each victim had etorphine, pentobarbital, pancuronium bromide, and potassium chloride in their systems.”

“And what does that mean in English?” Abigail frowns as she flips through the pages. 

“Etorphine is a tranquilizer. The others, when combined, are commonly used in lethal injections.”  

Abigail’s head shoots up. “Seriously?”

It’s then that Raelle rushes into the room and brushes past Scylla, a little worse for wear. She tucks her dress shirt in her pants, creases apparent against white, and tosses a wrinkled blazer on the back of her chair. It looks suspiciously like she’s wearing the same outfit as yesterday.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She sits and rolls her chair up to the desk. “Oh, hey there, Doc.” Self-consciously, Raelle combs her fingers through her hair, wincing when they snag against tangles. “Didn’t think you’d be visiting this early.”

“It’s almost noon,” Scylla points out.

Abigail gives Raelle an unimpressed once over. “You look like shit.” 

“Why, thank you, Bells. You always know how to make a girl feel special.”

Abigail gives her a flat stare. “Where have you been? Quartermaine would have had your ass if she didn’t have a meeting with the chief.”

Scylla bites the inside of her cheek at the mention of Anacostia. She wonders if anyone has put two-and-two together about their relationship. Not that they’ve been hiding it, per se.

“Had another all-nighter,” Raelle shrugs. “You know how those go.” 

Abigail just shakes her head. “You’re hopeless.”

Scylla’s unsure what an “all-nighter” entails, though she has an inkling. Her stomach twists slightly, even though she has no right to be bothered about whatever (or whomever) Raelle does. 

“Anyway, what were you guys talking about?” Raelle asks.

Abigail tosses the file to Raelle, who fumbles it slightly as she catches it. “Ramshorn here says the victims were drugged and executed.”

“Based on our findings, it’s plausible the victims were sedated and killed before their larynxes were removed,” Scylla explains. “That could explain the lack of blood around the extraction point.”

Raelle eyes the report. “So we could be dealing with a medical professional?”

“Assuming nothing was stolen or otherwise acquired through less than legal means,” Abigail says.

“Well, it’s more than what we had before,” Raelle smiles.  “Thanks, Doc.”

“Oh, Scylla, there you are!” Tally bounds up to them from out of nowhere. “I swung by your office, but you weren’t there.”

“Sorry, Tally, I’m just finishing up with the detectives,” Scylla says. “Unless there’s anything else you two need?”

Abigail shakes her head. “Whoa, wait, your name is Scylla?”

“That’s right.”

Abigail’s gaze ping-pongs between Raelle, who looks ready to murder Abigail on the spot, and an increasingly embarrassed.Scylla, who wonders just how many people Raelle had told about their night together. For all she knows it’s the entire precinct. 

“Well,” Abigail’s eyebrows raise, “That’s interesting.”

“Not as interesting as coffee,” Tally hooks her arm through Scylla’s.

“Wait, you’re having coffee together?” Raelle asks. She looks almost hurt, not that Scylla cares.

“That’s right.” Scylla smiles. “Tally Craven, let’s have that coffee.”

Tally beams as she pulls Scylla away. 

Scylla swears she can feel Raelle’s stare every step of the way. 

***

After another long Friday of autopsies, Scylla can’t wait to get back to her apartment and take a soak in a hot, hard-earned bubble bath. She’s almost to the front entrance when she nearly runs headfirst into Raelle, who’s sporting a busted lip and a bruise on her left cheek, just above her scar.

“Detective, what…” Scylla is at a loss of words, heart in her throat.

“Oh, hey, Doc,” Raelle tries to give her usual playful grin, but the effect is lost amid the shallow cuts along her chin and the dried blood caked around her nose. “Heading out?”

Worry claws at Scylla’s stomach. “Your face.” 

“Still pretty, right?”

Scylla places a hand on Raelle’s elbow and guides her to the side. “What happened? Are you okay?”  She asks as Abigail pushes the doors open, probably with a little more force than necessary. Unlike Raelle, Abigail is unscathed, a deep scowl on her face.

“Long story,” Raelle says.

“She tried to stop a robbery without backup like a reckless maniac.” Abigail crosses her arms.

“Okay, maybe not so long,” Raelle admits.

Scylla frowns, unable to stop herself from brushing a few strands of blonde from Raelle’s face. “You should really get yourself checked out.”

“I’m fine,” Raelle protests. "Everyone's overreacting."

“Raelle," Scylla says, immediately grabbing Raelle's attention with her use of her first name. "Come with me. Let’s get you fixed up.”

The corner of Raelle's eyes crinkle in a pleased smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good,” Abigail huffs as she turns to leave. “Get her out of my sight, Ramshorn, before I kill her myself.”

Scylla leads Raelle back to her office near the morgue. Thankfully, it’s late enough that it’s empty. Dr. L’Amara had left hours before.

“Sit and wait here,” Scylla orders.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re hot when you’re bossy,” Raelle says, wincing as she lowers herself in a seat in front of Scylla’s desk.

Ignoring Raelle, Scylla enters the exam room to wet a washcloth, retrieve an ice pack from the freezer, and collect a first aid kit. When she returns, she sits in the chair next to Raelle and hands her the ice pack. Raelle presses it to the side of her head with a sigh.

Scylla begins cleaning the blood from Raelle’s face with gauze soaked with a saline solution. Although she takes extra care around Raelle’s wounds, she still winces in pain. 

“You really don’t have to do this,” Raelle insists, pink tinging her cheeks. 

“And you really don’t have to be reckless,” Scylla says, uncapping a tube of triple-antibiotic ointment, squeezing some on a cotton pledget, and applying it to Raelle’s cuts. “But here we are.”

“I’m not reckless,” Raelle insists as Scylla takes the ice pack so she can examine Raelle’s scalp. 

“Right, that’s why you’ve got a lump the size of a softball on your head.” Scylla’s fingers skim across Raelle’s braids, gently outlining a hematoma.

“Someone had to step in,” Raelle says with quiet conviction. “It was the right thing to do.”

Scylla bites back a lecture. It’s not her place to chastise Raelle or tell her how to do her job, even if she can’t quite shake the worry that’s weighing in the pit of her stomach. Instead, Scylla hands back the ice pack, picks up an otoscope, and shines a light into Raelle’s eyes. One pupil doesn’t constrict, confirming Scylla’s suspicions. 

“You have a concussion,” Scylla turns off the light.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Scylla sighs. “You should rest, but it'd be better if you stay up for a few hours.”

“You know, I might need some help staying up. What do you say, Doc?” Raelle waggles her eyebrows and Scylla can’t help but laugh because Raelle’s incorrigible .

"In your state, I doubt you'd be able to keep up with me," Scylla lightly teases. It’s not flirting, she tells herself. It’s harmless banter among colleagues.

"I like challenges." Raelle’s blue eyes are serious now, no longer joking, and Scylla finds she can’t breathe. Or look away.

"Collar!” Anacostia barks from the doorway, startling them both. “In my office. Now!"

"Some other time then,” Raelle says with a small smile before she leaves.

When she’s gone, Scylla slumps back in her chair, hand resting on her chest, wondering what in the hell she’s doing.

#raylla #motherland fort salem #mfsweek #raelle collar #scylla ramshorn #non-magic au #a bit of an homage to rizzoli & isles too

[qhostqizmo]

A Well Earned Break

Amon couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been to a pub as dynamic and energetic as this place. Every bench and seat in the building was occupied from one end to another. A few women even boldly took it upon themselves to sit at the edge of bar’s counter. Row after row of table tucked from corner to corner, wall to wall, were covered in dishes and empty tankards; leaving attendants and maidens to hustle swiftly in and fetch them for cleaning. It was messy, it was loud, and it smelled like sweat, liquor, and strong perfume.

Beneath his boots, peanut shells crunched. A few surface-spots stuck to his heels, causing them to peel up from the floor with a sticky squeak. A young woman caught his wandering eye as he stood uncomfortably off the side. She slanted him a smile; her ruby-red lips puckering into a kiss she blew his way with a wink. He quickly adverted his eyes upon spotted the jade beaded bracelet on her wrist. Many individuals throughout the tavern appeared to be wearing the same piece of jewelry, and the symbolize didn’t go without his notice. Different places did different things: sometimes earrings, or neckties, or bracelets, or tattoos; but he recognized a pattern such as that in a venue such as this. It he wanted a ‘good time’, at least he knew where to look.

Face and Penimra already found laps to occupy instead of stools. Even wearing masks, both appeared to be in the same state of bliss: hooded eyes, heads tilted to lean forward with intent, curious hands exploring the surface of the gentleman’s chests they sat on. Their company’s wrists each had the same glistening beaded bracelet as the lady who had previously been giving him a lingering gaze.

He grimaced and looked to his side where Sulhadur stood. The red Dragonborn wasn’t that hard to pick apart. Young; almost innocent, Sul kept his own eyes fixated on the floor and quickly turned away from any approaching curious individuals. If he’d been human, he’d probably have a face as crimson as his the scales on his body were.

Pitying the poor lad, Amon placed a hand upon his shoulder. The sprouting Paladin turned his snout quizzically towards him.

“We don’t have to stay here, Sul. You and I can go, if you’re not comfortable.”

They swallowed nervously. “Maybe-” he choked, turning to shake his head at a Tiefling who begun  sauntering over. She had a lovely figure; no bracelet, and a sullen expression to be so quickly shot down.

Amon snorted back laughter. Tall, youthful, and clearly in good physical health; Sul had caught a lot of eyes rather quickly. They were fresh faces to this region, and a great many intrigued local gazes were trying to size them up for a snack. Sul however seemed more content to be a solitary fish rather than school in the haze of breeding swarms. The ex-nobleman wasn’t sure if he was simply naive, shy, indifferent to the art of sensuality; or all of the above.

“Let’s move around the room,” he offered, “Face and Lord Korvis appear to have this area covered.”

“Good idea.”

Exhaling with relief, Sul trailed at his side as they roamed through the tightly people-packed spaces of the room. A couple of men they passed were being torn apart from a drunken brawl, and there were was an intense beginning of an orgy between a handful of individuals at another table they passed. Some girls giggled; shamefully young for the crowd of old men they were giving their attention to, but the fellow’s looked well-off in their wealth, and women were wearing the jade wristlet as many others. They hit the proverbial jackpot.

Squeezing around a chatty group, Sulhadur’s shoulder collided with Amon’s. He looked up to say something, seeing the eagerness in the Dragonborn’s expression as he looked off. Training his eyes in the same direction, he looked upon a group of individuals who managed to lay claim to a rickety table. The various races were all snarling and chuckling, a board game in front of them Amon recognized as seeing a few times: jump chess.

“I haven’t gotten to play in ages,” the Dragonborn whisper-shouted, his gaze glittering.

Amon winced internally, dreading the idea of pacing around alone. That was his selfishness talking though…

He indicated with a wave towards the group. “Go, introduce yourself. See if they’ll let you in their next game.”

“Why don’t you join me?”

“Jump chess isn’t a particular favorite of mine; besides, I’d probably end up somehow swindled out of coin. You should enjoy yourself now though, like everyone else. Go, I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe you should go look for Pri’cha and the ladies?” Sul offered, something mischievous in his tone. He tilted his maw down; eyes wide and teeth bared in what should have been a grin, but appeared more like a menacing and sadistic smirk. He turned tail; quite literally whacking the tip against the ex-nobleman’s shin, and parted his way through the crowd to the table.

Taking a moment to rub his leg, Amon glimpsed around the room. An older halfling man; probably around his age, wearing jade licked his lips as their gazes jumped to each other. Finding the others sounded like a safer option than standing awkwardly around, alone.

He shuffled his way into the throng; going in the opposite direction of the flirtatious individual. A foot stepped on the edge of his cloak, snagging him backwards as he grumbled and cursed. A half-slurred apology with whisky-scented breath acknowledged him as a shoulder jammed into his ribs. This place was miserably busy; how on Earth did anyone enjoy this sort of atmosphere? And was that the smell of urine coming from the corner of the room? Revolting.

Sure enough, a young lady came whisking by him, trying to balance a full bucket of water and not slash too much of it as another followed with a bristly old mop. The duo cursed and spat at some of their pedestrians, swatting a few towards the door for their behavior. They were about to have their hands full.

Amon sucked in his chest, pulled up his cloak, and slid along the wall to avoid a few drunken fellows to scout along the other side of the pub. His eyes boggled for a moment, spotting Ravamora of all people arm-wrestling a line of folks. A small stash of coin had stacked up in her favor; bets it looked like, and people were howling and hooting as the young elf finally managed to slam down a beefy half-orc’s arm. They growled, shoved back their chair, and immediately the next contestant was taking their place.

Always after a bit of cash, that one. He wondered if she was still somehow cheating to earn it like she had tried on him all those years ago. He sighed, shaking his head.

“Nister Anon!”

Now that was a recognizable voice. Amon strained to listen for its speaker, peering around others knees.

Pri’cha poked a man, squeaking a polite request for them to move. They did, to the ex-nobleman’s surprise. Sometimes he forgot how startling it could be to see a large, sentient bug-like individual in Etheron. When someone such as Pri aimed for your attention, if it wasn’t their wholesome politeness that got you, it was the sheer wondrous oddity of their presence.

“Hello Pri’cha,” he greeted warmly, “having any fun?”

The golden Thri-Kreen’s antenna wriggled. “I an learning a lot about this location’s culture,” they admitted a bit nervously, mandibles twitching. “I do not see Sul, Face, and Pen nith you anynore, nister Anon.”

The ex-nobleman smiled sheepishly, swallowing. “They all found their niche things to do, Pri. What are you doing by yourself? Where is Essie, and Adela?”

“I have been trying to find a barkeep to get drinks! Niss Essie and niss Adela are over there, if you’re looking for them?”

“Do you wish for me to go with you?”

“No thank you, I have enough arms to carry the drinks. I’ve been making friends along the way too, krr.”

A soft smile tugged at his lips. “I’m sure you have Pri.”

“Would you like ne to get you anything?”

“I’m fine, but thank you.”

“Of course. If you’d excuse me-”

“The bar’s that way actually, Pri’cha!” He piped up, pointing far to the left.

The little cleric bounced happily at his aid. “Thank you, nister Anon!”

Chuckling merrily, Amon followed the general direction Pri’cha had pointed to. The bodies of strangers began to thin out and disperse; giving room to more and more space. He began to wonder why, until a few people began to sway around him. Instead of shouting, he could make out a noise he hadn’t paid more attention to or picked up a lot until now: music.

It had a wild swing to it; almost a festival sort of jig. The instruments collided and crashed; they coordinated and collected into a collage. It was certainly an entertaining tune that even he found his foot tapping to as he pushed through the group. Some were stomping their feet and clapping their hands, forming a wall around the band.

Amon poked his head around an elf to see what everyone was staring at.

His jaw dropped wide open.

It wasn’t a sophisticated choreography performed before the orchestra; not like the kind he was often used to, but he’d seen versions of it before. It was wild; a routine not learned, but following the improvisation of the beat. The symphony of the song swelled, and arms raised; feet spinning, hands interweaving and crossing in some foreign move he didn’t know, but immediately was transfixed by, like magic.

He was immersed in how Essätha moved; her rhythm striking with different unexpected cords to create a painting. He blinked as Adela hopped to the forefront; intruding on his vision. He blinked a few times, capable of finding his breath and smiling to himself. The pink Tiefling twirled and spun; gemstones and precious metals flashing in the light of the room radiantly. The noise they gave off almost seemed to add to the music, although was mostly drown out by the cheering and sound of the instruments themselves.

The duo was graceful as they spun towards each other; greeting palm to palm. They ladies grinned; feet gliding around in a circle and drumming against the floor like the beat of the drums. Amon felt a creeping heat in his cheeks as his eyes soaked in Essie’s movements; the sensual twist of her hips as she curled her body away from Adela’s and then back in to bump her hip against hers, laughing.

Her laugh stole the air from his lungs in a pitiful wheeze.

The Yuan-Ti woman swayed and hopped, pivoting and dancing away from some of the more eager individuals of the crowd trying to leap in on the two sorceress’ frolic. She laughed, grabbing Adela’s arm and spinning around and around again as someone reached for the pink Tiefling, dragging her safely away from a boisterous young man eagerly trying to leap in.

Essie was elegant and poised as she moved from heel to toe, drawing the eyes naturally along the flow of her body where the light and shadows broke as she turned the opposite direction. Her movements were not simply dancing, it was an adventure’s storytelling in motion. A chasse turned into a journey to new lands, and her playful heel-turns fleeting from playful outreached hands were both a tease and a sense of character. It said:  I am my own first.

Prancing around each other; sweat on their brows, the two women panted for air as they stopped, facing each other, to swing their hips and drop lower; raising back up to the whooping approval of the crowd. Amon joined a few of the bystandards in clapping. Gods knew dropping that low on bent-knees was probably agony; he’d probably end up on his ass trying anything similar.

Adela swung to the left, and Essätha the right. As they turned, Essie’s shining eyes met his.

Amon felt his heart stutter as his breath stilled. He swore for two heartbeats, he stopped hearing the music altogether as her gaze rounded, and her mouth hung open.

Waving an arm, Essie tip-toed around Adela to bounce his way. “M’lord!”

The color quickly spread over his features. Should he feel guilty and shameful caught staring? There was certainly enough people watching. His throat tightened, and his hands felt clammy and sweaty as he fidgeted stiffly.

“Sorry if my uh, watching ruined your dance.”

“Nonsense, we were trying to encourage Pri to join earlier too but they weren’t interested; something about not knowing the dance?” She laughed weakly, trying to catch her breath. “I tried explaining it’s not really something you learn, you just feel it, but I’m not sure they got it.”

Amon smiled stupidly, his heartbeat galloping. He could feel something just watching her. There was emotion in her movements; passion; joy, happiness, beauty. She made dancing seem raw and intense and damn sensual. He hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away.

It was simple. It was spontaneous. It didn’t make sense; it didn’t necessarily have an order, or a reason, or a professional’s years of study. But when she moved, she was breathtaking.

“You should join us,” Essie encouraged, grabbing at his sweaty palm. She raised her eyebrows suggestively, grinning at him. “You could show off some of your noble moves for me.”

The tightness in his throat increased. The ex-nobleman cough-wheezed, feeling heat and tension gripping his body in a rigid line. Was she teasing him, or flirting with him? Or both?

“I um- I’m okay,” he fumbled, nerves on edge and sweat beading up beneath his clothes. Pelor it was hot in this building. Stuffy. Humid. His skin was growing terribly flush, and he was beginning to feel an uncomfortable amount of sweat between his legs. If his thighs chafed, he was not going to be happy.

She pouted out her lower lip, tugging gently on his arm. “Please?”

How was he supposed to say no to that? His heart ached, even knowing she was messing with him.

“I-” he took a step forward helplessly, “what do I do?”

“You know, just- grind your hips a bit.”

“What?”

A different, more complicated heat and stiffness began to form between his legs. Even worse, the way he moved, the more it rubbed against his inner leg; stuck unpleasantly in place. Hidden, but annoying; and the friction was not helping.

Adela eyed him as Essie encouraged him into the middle of the crowd. She looked him up and down like he was a hair in her drink.

Amon deflated more. So much for confidence.

Giggling warmly, Essätha grabbed for Adela’s hand. The Tiefling instantly brightened a bit, and whirled around with her dance partner with a laugh of her own.

If he could blush and deeper, he’d probably look a lot like Sul; or maybe even darker. He shimmied in a fixed position, uneasy and fearful of his erection becoming noticeable. A couple of individuals in the surrounding semi-circle whispered and outright laughed at him. This was borderline mortifying.

Still…

With the fingers of one of her hands still clasped with Adela’s, Essie reached out for his hand, offering him a dazzling smile.

Yet again he was awestruck; automatically reaching for her hand without thinking. He wanted her touch. He wanted her hand, and the promise of salvation that came with it. Take me with you.

Her dance moves were simple and delightful; lacking a little of the complexity and alluring quality as before. She pulled all three of them into a sort of child-like merry-go-round before bumping her hip to each of theirs; making him grunt and swallow the frog in his throat. She twirled Adela around like she was a princess, and tossed his arm back and forth like they were talking an afternoon walk.

As he waved his arms awkwardly and jumped from leg to leg; certainly the worst excuse for a sober dancer this tavern had ever seen, Essie released his hand, and once again Adela and her began to form their integral duet. He watched more than moved, and then moved even less as they used him as a center-point to spin around. Not the best view from any angle, but gods he wished this was a private session for two instead of room filled with dozens of drunk, loud, rambunctious strangers and the rest of his companions.

Essätha shifted closer; her waist rocking from side to side dramatically, her body dancing to the beat. Amon felt her hip hit his; and she didn’t move as the heated grating of her clothes rubbed against his. He could smell the lavender on her skin; the sweat, the shampoo in her hair. She was close, and warm, and bright and golden and flush…

He began to pray; his lips twitching as his nostrils flared, trying to control his breathing. She made everything intimate and sexy and he was so gods-damn thirsty-

“Niss!! Niss Adela, niss Essätha! I have brought back drinks!”

Perfect timing.

Some of the mass groaned as the cleric presented themself proudly, holding up a tray filled with four mugs.

“I got you a nater too, nister Anon. I thought you night nant a refreshnent.”

Not exactly the sort of thirst he had, but bless that Thri-Kreen and their good life.

“Thank you, Pri,” he grunted, inching forward. Each shuffling movement caused his hard-on to brush against his inner thigh. He pulled his cloak around his frame, hoping to hide the inevitable tenting that was going to start forming.

“Your nating naneuvers were nost superb,” they encouraged, holding up the tray.

“Thank you, Pri,” Adela echoed in a sing-song voice, raising her volume over the ongoing song.

Amon bent a bit to grab for his drink. Essätha, not paying attention as she began to string out a ‘thank you-’ bonked her noggin against his as they huddled close to the cleric.

“Ouch-!”

“Fuck- I’m sorry-”

“You’re fine, it was my fault,” Essie mumbled, tenderly rubbing at her head. She smiled into his gaze warmly.

His brain fritzed out.

He watched as her gaze shot past his face to his trousers. At the slanted viewpoint they were at, she was nearly face-level with them, and his cloak had fallen aside…

The color in her face instantly deepened as she looked away, snatching for her drink.

If she hadn’t been so quick to advert her gaze, he could have convinced himself she saw nothing. As it was, he shakily picked up his water; slopping some onto the floor, and rearranged his clothing, hoping it was mostly an inconspicuous gesture. Fuck he d give anything to fling himself into the void for just a few minutes right now to scream.

“We should go find the boys,” Essätha bluntly announced, clutching her drink close after chugging most of it in a few gulps. “Make sure everyone’s okay.”

Adela eyed her quizzically. “If you’re sure?”

She nodded. “We should see about getting a meal- right Pri?”

“Oh-? Yes, dinner would be nice.”

A curt nod. “Good.”

Offering a gesture, she invited Pri’cha and Adela to take the lead; pushing through a disappointed looking crowd of onlookers. Amon downed his entire glass of water, sweating bullets.

Turning to look up at him, their gazes locked. The heat in his lungs was almost unbearable.

She offered out her hand to him wordlessly. A shy, nervous smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. “You comin’?”

He couldn’t resist taking her hand, mutely nodding. Her golden butterscotch eyes were more addictive than the treat they represented.

Her fingers curled; finding the spaces between his. She guided him forward; parting the crowd like a deity’s chosen vessel to speak through. More importantly, assisting him; leading him. To where, he didn’t know, but he was willing to go anywhere, as long as she would be there, too.

#qhost story #OTP: Essamon #Essatha Meduza #Amon Illiad #Softly written #ft: Noisy Bastards

[watchmegetobsessed]

Lesson learned - Shawn Mendes

a little birthday edition to celebrate this cutie over here! also included some sibling fun with aaliyah, so be my guest for this oneshot!

word count: 2.1k

drabble list masterlist

He looks so much younger over the light of the candles on top of his cake, the whole table singing happy birthday to him as he is gently bobbing his head to the song, looking around his friends and family who came out to celebrate his big day. Karen holds up her phone, recording the whole thing and when the song ends and Shawn blows the candles out with everyone cheering for him she ends the video and reaching over she kisses his temple.

It’s not a wild party, we rented out the event room of a restaurant to make sure we have some privacy for a nice dinner and a light after party for only family and friends. It was Shawn’s wish. No surprise he doesn’t want the whole shebang since he has been on the road for months, tired of new places and seemingly endless nights.

“Happy birthday, babe,” you smile leaning closer to him, kissing his rosy cheek. He glances at you with the corners of his mouth curled up. His right hand finds its way to your thigh, rolling up your skirt a bit so he have more excess to your exposed skin.

“Thanks,” he smiles, pecking your lips shortly as he gives a gentle squeeze to your thigh under the table.

It’s a wholesome dinner, you keep chatting with Karen who is so overwhelmed that her son is now 21, Brian throws a few nasty jokes in making Shawn feel uncomfortable from time to time, but you think his blushing is cute.

“Hey,” Aaliyah grabs your attention when everyone is done eating and the room is nicely buzzing from the friendly chatters and laughter. “Can I have a sip?” she asks pointing at your glass of red wine you ordered earlier.

Normally you’d just give her the glass, but you don’t want to seem like a bad influence so you cautiously look around, unfortunately Shawn catches your eyes and steps to you.

“What are you guys scheming about?” he asks with a suspecting chuckle as he joins us at the table.

“Um—“ you start wondering if you should ask him for permission, but Aaliyah blurts it out before you could.

“Can I have some wine?”

You’re not sure what you expected from him, but you find it hilarious as he looks around in the room, walks over to the bar and returns with half a glass of red wine himself.

“Well, I would have been good with a sip from Y/N’s glass, but damn okay,” Aaliyah laughs to herself, reaching for the glass, but he pulls it back.

“Are you out of your mind? I’m not giving it to you until mom and dad doesn’t leave,” he scolds her taking a step to the side so he covers her from their parents before he hands her the glass. She takes a few sips, slowly tasting the liquor before he snatches the glass back nervously.

“It’s nice, velvety.”

“Like you know anything about wine,” he scoffs taking a sip from the drink as well. You just chuckle at them as you take your glass from the table too.

Karen, Manny and the older guests leave around eleven, saying that they want to let the young ones let loose peacefully. Cocktails and champagnes are getting served and you watch your boyfriend a bit hazily over your drink. He and Brian are laughing on something, Shawn’s rosy cheeks are extra red from the booze he has had, but he is still not drunk. His eyes move around the room until they find yours and a warm smile tints his lips as he wiggles his eyebrows at you making you laugh.

You slalom over to them and get in on the story Brian is telling him, Shawn’s arm immediately wrapping around your shoulders as he draws you close to his side.

“I don’t think I’ll ever go there again,” Brian finishes up the story and you share a laugh with them. He excuses himself seeing someone new arriving and Shawn turns to you smiling.

“Having fun?”

“Mhm, but it’s your birthday, are you having fun?” you ask him. It was his idea to have a chill evening, but you still want him to have a great time. After all, he is sipping on his first legal drinks.

“I’m always having fun when I’m with you,” he smirks as he leans down and presses his lips to yours.

You lounge around for a while, it’s almost one am and the people start saying goodbye. Shawn is talking with a few guys when you strategically go to the restroom before you head home. There are only two stalls and one is occupied so you head for the other one. After you’re done with your business you stop for a little at the mirror, checking yourself in case anyone decides to snap pictures of you leaving. As you try to get rid of the smudged eyeliner in the corner of your eyes you hear someone moan in the other stall and a moment later the person definitely puts out their dinner right into the toilet.

“Are you alright in there?” you ask worried. Some more moaning later a shoed foot appears under the door, the person is probably kneeling in front of the toilet and you almost decide to let them be when you recognize the nude pumps Aaliyah had on earlier.

“Aaliyah?” you ask with wide eyes. You push the door and luckily she forgot to lock it.

She is sitting on the floor, hair all messed up as she is focusing on her breathing.

“This… Is not what it seems,” she mumbles seeing you, but she looks horrible.

“Hey, what’s up? What happened?” you ask worried like shit. Pushing yourself through the small gap you get into the stall and squat down next to her.

“I think… I should head home,” she sighs deeply.

“Are you drunk?” Your eyes go wide at the realization. She really is drunk, so drunk she threw up!

“Um, a little?” she mumbles knitting her eyebrows together.

In a moment you text Shawn to come to the ladie’s restroom and while you wait for him you manage to scoop her up from the ground and bring her to the sink. You make her drink some cold water and wash her face as well, hoping the cold will help a little.

“Y/N?” Shawn’s voice speaks up at the door as he slowly pushes the door open. “Do you really want to do it in here?”

You roll your eyes and push a smile down at how he thought you want a quickie in the bathroom. When his head pops in and he sees Aaliyah leaning against the tiled wall, looking like a huge mess his eyes widen.

“Gross,” she groans and you’re happy she is conscious enough to react to his brother’s dirty comment.

“What the Hell? What happened to her?” he asks, terror in his eyes as he has no idea what to do with his drunk sister.

“Wanted to ask the same thing,” you scoff as you tap her face with a wet paper towel once again. “How much did you give her to drink?”

“Not this much!” he protest. “She drank like two glasses of wines and half of my beer.”

“Um, I also had a tequila with Brian after mom and dad left and Connor also might have given me a cocktail too. Or did I have two shots with Brian?” Aaliyah slurs. At least she knows what she drunk, more or less, but if it’s true, she had quite a few. The worst thing is that she drank at least three different kind of liquors and a mix always hits harder.

“Aaliyah!” Shawn snaps in disbelief. “How am I supposed to take you home like this?”

“Don’t take me home,” she groans in a painful tone.

“Oh my God,” Shawn growls running his hands up and down his face anxiously. “Okay, we are taking her home with us and I’ll tell mom she was just too tired to ride all the way home.”

“I just… wanna sleep,” she sighs closing her eyes as her head leans against the mirror.

“Yeah, no shit,” he mumbles before we work up a plan to take her out to the car.

 Luckily, most of the guests are already gone when we bring her out. She is clearly trying her best to walk normally, but she needs all the help she can get from us not to trip. Shawn doesn’t miss the chance to tell his two best friends off for giving alcohol to his little sister before we throw her into a car and leave.

“That was harsh, you started giving her the wine,” you remind him from the passenger seat. He is at the back, Aaliyah against his side, passed out from the moment the car started moving beneath her.

“Don’t put all the blame on me!”

It’s a struggle to take her up to Shawn’s place, but you manage to reach his guest room and put her into bed. You pull her shoes off and take her jewelry off knowing it would be uncomfortable to sleep in her hoop earrings. Shawn draws a blanket over her while cursing under his breath big times.

“Don’t be too harsh on her, she is almost sixteen!” you tell him as the two of you stand next to the bed, watching her sleep.

“Exactly! Too young to get drunk!”

“Oh, how old were you when you first got drunk?” you arch an eyebrow at him, hands on your hips.

“Fifteen,” he mumbles.

“There you go. She is no worse than you were.”

“But she is a girl!” he protests and you roll your eyes.

“And what? Don’t be sexist. I was fifteen too when I first got drunk. At least she did it with us around.”

You pull Shawn out of the room, forcing him not to stare at her all night. When you return from the bathroom after your shower he is stretched out on the king sized bed, staring up at the ceiling in only his boxers, his cheeks still rosy from the drinks he has had.

“Hey there, old guy,” you tease him as you crawl to the bed and sit next to him, one hand on his stomach. He quickly brings one of his hands to his belly and laces your fingers together.

“Thanks for tonight,” he smiles up at you and he seems genuinely happy and it makes your heart flipping.

“Anything for my man.”

Leaning down you lock lips with him. It start sweet and soft, but soon turns into something more heated until your clothes end up on the floor and you kick his 21st off just the right way.

Aaliyah doesn’t come out of the guest room until noon. When she emerges you and Shawn are chilling on the couch in the living room, he is still answering birthday wishes while you read a bock, your head on his shoulder as he has one arm around you.

She has one of Shawn’s shirts and basketball shorts on that you left in the room for her, knowing she would want to change from her dress from last night.

“Look who’s alive!” Shawn teases her as she walks over to the armchair across us with a grimace on her face and plops down.

“Can you be a little quieter?” she pleads massaging her temples.

Putting your book aside you grab her an Advil and a glass of water from the kitchen and hand them to her.

“If you can’t handle the alcohol you shouldn’t drink. Lesson number one!”

Shawn is such a smart ass now, finding her misery entertaining, but last night he went full protective brother mode, even wanted to sleep with her, making sure she is okay through the night.

“Thanks, will remember next time,” she growls in annoyance.

“Stop teasing her,” you tell him smacking his chest gently as you sit back to the couch next to him.

“Covered your ass, but next time it’ll cost you a lot to keep my mouth shut.”

“Oh really?” Aaliyah rolls her eyes, not even threatened by his words. “Then I’ll tell them about that one time at Brian’s when you were so high that you sang My Heart Will Go On for an entire hour straight standing on the kitchen counter with a bucket on your head.”

You burst out in laughter because it’s one story you haven’t heard about but sounds ridiculous. Just imagining the scene is bringing tears to your eyes.

Shawn mumbles something under his breath about teenagers being a pain in the ass these days and you kiss his chin while he keeps up the grumpy act.

“Yeah, so I think we are even. Can your driver take me home in an hour?” she asks standing up.

“Sure,” he mumbles.

“Great! Thanks!” She throws a peace sign up before disappearing in the guest room, leaving his huffish brother mumbling to himself on the couch.

They are your favorite duo for a reason.

#shawn #mendes #shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfics #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fanfictions #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes x reader #shawn 21 #mendes army

[carriagelamp]

October Book Review pt1: Spooky Month

I made the conscious choice this month to try to read some “spooky” books, and honestly it’s been a really fun way to get into the Halloween spirit in a way I haven’t in years. So pt1 of my October posts will go up on Halloween, and pt2 will come after with the non-spooky books.

Scary Stories To Tell In The Dark

A classic from my childhood that I obviously had to reread the second I decide to do this. Thanks to the movie (which I also watched last August) there’s copies of these books everywhere again and I was able to pick one up cheap. Nothing “scary” for an adult reader, but some of them still gave me delightful little chills when I was reading them every night before bed! Also they’re tons of fun to read out loud -- getting to scream ME TIE DOUGH TY WALKER at my cousins was a goddamn delight.

Goosebumps: Escape From Bat Wing Hall

Readers beware. You choose the scare. 

My friends and I played with this book tons as kids, and was another delightful one to reread. I read it out loud for my girlfriend (who had never read it before) and I got to watch her die miserably multiple times in her attempt to win. OBVIOUSLY you don’t lean INTO THE MUMMY SARCOPHAGUS, fool.

Goosebumps: Wolf Skin

Last Goosebumps book I’ll mention, promise. But I was actually surprised by what a well put together story this was. The characters were nothing to write home about, but it built tension really well, and the plot twist at the end delighted me. The story starts when Alex, aspiring photographer, goes to stay with his aunt and uncle in the small community of Wolf Creek. Except he runs into something truly terrifying when he’s in the woods trying to get a good picture to submit for the Halloween Photo Contest, and strange sounds and sights seem to come from the reclusive neighbours’ house...

 Honestly, if you want to revisit you childhood Goosebumps phase (or just want something chill and “spoopy” to read that won’t take you long, since that was what I needed) I would totally recommend going with this one.

Hilda and the Mountain King

I am eagerly awaiting the second season of the show, so obviously I had to get into the comics. After the cliffhanger that Hilda and the Stone Forest left us with, I was dying to get my hands on this one. The sudden shift the story seems to take from misadventures to a greater plot was fascinating, and as always the art was gorgeous and the world so enticing I never want to leave it. After a fight with her mom, Hilda finds herself stuck in the troll mountains with no way to escape as she is right now. While Hilda learns more about troll society and her own predicament, her mom is frantically trying to find Hilda and get her home. Stunning, but don’t read without reading Hilda and the Stone Forest first.

ParaNorman

The novelization of the Laika film, and about what you would expect. If you liked ParaNorman, this is a fun, quick novel that does the movie justice, though without delivering any other real surprises and bonuses. It tells the story of Norman, a normal boy with the unusual gift to be able to speak with ghosts that no one else in town sees or believes in. Life is tricky enough, but then on the eve of the great Witch Trial that the town is famous for an ancient curse is reawakened and Norman finds himself wrapped up in the middle of it all.

I Spy: Spooky Night

Falling into my Read For Joy category of books. I loved I Spy books as a kid but was never allowed to buy them. Well, I’m an adult now who is fully capable of buying I Spy books! I spend about a week gradually solving all the riddles and it was such a wholesome joy I can’t recommend it enough. I just love looking at how the pictures are put together!

Alice Isn’t Dead

The story is about a woman who suffers from anxiety, and who recently experienced the loss of her wife, Alice. Except Alice has started appearing all over the place, in news casts, at the edge of the screen, and Keisha is compelled to follow her missing wife’s trail, taking the job as a cross-country trucker and finding herself thrust in the midst of horrors she could never have imagined.  I’m not finished this one, but so far it is unfortunately disappointing. I really enjoy the podcast, but the novelization leaves something to be desired. Switching from the original spoken person framing device to plain prose means a lot of the chilling, unsettling, and beautifully poetic descriptions have been dropped, and the the writing feels a lot flatter and less compelling to me. I wish they’d done what they did with the Welcome To Night Vale adaptation and just kept it in it’s original script format. Still, it’s intriguing story, and I always enjoy some queer lit.

Warren the 13th and the Whispering Woods

It has a similar heart to The Series of Unfortunate Events, though a little less melancholy and a bit more fantastical. This is the second book of the series that follows a young boy, Warren, the 13th in a line of Warrens who have always run the hotel. Once the hotel fell into his uncle’s care though, after his father’s death, it became increasingly run down and dilapitated, though Warren worked the hardest he could to keep it running. Filled with secrets, riddles, witches, monster, and off-the-wall adventure, it’s a engaging, easy read. The biggest highlight though? The pages are all SO MUCH FUN TO LOOK AT

xxxHolic

One of my old manga that I reread this month. Not true “horror” by any means, but I’ve always loved stories that play with a just-beyond-your-vision, cosmic sort of spookiness. Filled with lots of ghosts, a spirits, and forces working against Watanuki, you get a story of a high schooler trying to deal with mundane problems like friendship, a difficult boss, as well as his place in the universe and exactly how dangerous that place might be. One of my favourite manga, tbh, and there are definitely better descriptions out there. Story, art, the way stories seem to start as very benign until all of a sudden the stakes shoot up? Excellent shit.

The Witch Boy

A comic series about a family in which the boys become shapeshifters and the girls become witches. Everyone knows how dangerous it is for a boy to learn witchcraft or a girl to learn shapeshifting -- that sort of hubris can have fatal consequences. And yet Aster wants nothing to do with shifting, and does everything he can to sneak around his family and learn the witchcraft secrets the rest of his family is learning, he knows that this is his calling. Beautiful art and a great exploration of gender norms through the lens of fantasy; I can’t wait for the next book in the series.

The Okay Witch

Another cute graphic novel about witches. This one about a girl who is shocked to discover that not only does she have magical powers... but so does her mom! Something that’s been kept a secret from her for her entire life. This one also has lovely art, though the story is nothing particularly new. It’s worth the read, but between the two Witch Boy delivers the stronger adventure in my opinion.

Deltora Quest

Another one that isn’t necessarily “Halloween-y” but the covers of these books always scared my brother too much to read, so I figure I can include it. This was my favourite children’s series growing up and to this day I still genuinely love the story. It’s the epitome of an adventure quest, and Emily Rodda went hard when it came to the monsters and horrors she populated her books with. One of the best series out there for grade two or three readers in my opinion, as it really introduces the idea of a continuing narrative that builds from book to book and can have plot twists not just within a single book but within an over arching series.

Liō

A cutely dark comic strip series about Liō, a Weird Kid, and occasional mad scientist, necromancer, world destroyer, and prankster. Almost entirely visual, with minimal text, it’s such a charming comic there’s no excuse for not reading it. Go find some of the strips online, they’re a delight.

#chatter #book reviews #halloween #halloween books #lio #warren the 13th #alice isn't dead #the witch boy #the okay witch #paranorman #hilda and the mountain king #hilda #i spy #scary stories to tell in the dark #goosebumps #werewolf skin #escape from bat wing hall #book review

[seeyacowboy]

Blood of a todoroki

Chapter 5.

Dabi x f!reader. A.u. Oc

Warnings- mention of blood. Slightly lime. Violence. Cursing. Alcohol. Mention of Abuse. This follows the touya/dabi theory.

I’ve had writers block so badly the past couple of weeks. Thankfully inspiration hit me.

Just for a little recap your a anti-hero named Exemplum (Latin for copy). Quirk- copy other people’s quirks after getting a sample of their blood. You and your U.a. Hero/ classmates are in your 20’s now.

•••

It was about 7:45pm when you started walking up the stairs to the town hall. It was something out of a movie. Cameras clicks and lights flashing. it made her hands sweat, but she was not going to ruin this dress.

“Okay (y/n) we got some dresses for you to try on for the ball.” The tall metal bartender exclaimed.

Your room was only a few doors down from the entertainment/living room area and you always had your door slightly cracked during the day for times like this.

walking out in a silk robe that went down to your knees. Someone had put a pedestal for you to stand on like at the tailors. Shyly standing on it bringing your hands to your sternum holding them together rubbing each knuckle out of nervous habit. Everyone’s eyes were on your tailor but you couldn’t help but feel plagued with the idea that they were staring at you.

“Can you guys like go in another room or find some crime related thing to do?” Dabi laughed at your edge.

“Surely you aren’t bothered are you, (y/n)?” asked spinner.

“No I’m clearly thriving off the attention, spinner. If you could call the news paper about me being in a dress and make it the front page I’d be fucking delighted.” Most people in the room let out a chuckle.

Kurogiri was at the top of your ankle measuring the length from your hip to ankle. “Okay ,dear, it looks like you have a couple of options considering your height.”

He walks off to get the dresses.

“ I need a fucking shot. My hands are sweating like crazy.-“

During your rambling you didn’t notice that dabi had come over and sat on the couch directly in front of the platform. he leans forward and takes the first knuckles of your fingers in his hand and kisses them. It was enough in that moment for you to calm down.

Kurogiri comes back with three dresses.

One is a champagne color, full length, low cut in a deep v shape and a slit from the bottom until your upper thigh. You could have died right then and there. This was out of your comfort zone but its also the most amazing dress you have ever seen in your life; basically running to your room to try it on.

Coming back out in some strapped open toed high heels and ear rings on.

I think everyone’s eyes widened (dabi’s jaw just about hit the floor.) when they first saw you. Feeling super confident you strut your stuff back to the platform and do a little spin.

“ eh it’s okay.” Making you turn around to look at the hallway you just came out of seeing Shigaraki leaning against the wall.

“Okay? Just okay? THAT’S IT!” you throw your arms up. “I’m going in jeans and a hoodie!”

“ No you’re not. It’s the first dress just try the next one on. This just screams u.a. prom. You’re in your twenties now let’s look like it.” You gasp and place your hand on your chest.

“Well ,I never.”

“Yeah, whatever get moving.”

You look back at dabi and he raises his hands not wanted to get in the middle of it and leaning back into the couch.

“Who’s side are you on?”

“I’m a villain; anything to discomfort and inconvenience ,I suppose.”

With that you go to your room and showing the crew two more options. They settled on a bodycon dress that went to your calves and was more of an a-line at the cleavage. Silk with a lovely deep blue color almost being perceived as black from different angles. Matched with black heels and diamond ear rings.

Dabi and you waited outside for your car to drive up. He had you leaning up against the wall with his hand above your head and staring into your eyes. You pulled a cigarette out of your clutch putting it in your mouth letting his long finger light it for you. “Pretty girls don’t light their own cigarettes.” He smirks looking up and down between your lips and eyes.

letting his free hand snake over the side of your thigh. He loves the feeling of silk on his finger tips. Exhaling the smoke without care letting it go into his face, he was unfazed. You lean over to his ear and whisper “ do you know what it means when someone blows smoke in your face?” He hummed very interested. “It means they want to fuck.” Letting the k at the last work click and linger out of your mouth as you lean your back against the wall. Dabi bit his bottom scarred lip and huffed. “If only there was time, we’ll just have to wait until you get back.” He finished with a poke on the nose. You see headlights turning the corner and coming toward you. Putting out your half smoked butt. Leaning up and giving dabi a kiss as the car pulls closer, he takes you by the arms and looks deep into your eyes. “Come back soon.”

“Oh I will believe me.” You smiled him.

You get into the car and he shuts the door behind you. Dabi is left standing in the streets with his hands in his pockets.

•••

“Exemplum!! Are you here alone tonight?!”

“Exemplum!! you look stunning give us a good shot!”

“Exemplum!! why have you been gone for so long? Eloped? Who’s your secret man?”

You practically started running up the stairs trying get away from these intrusive questions. Looking down at your feet to make sure you don’t fall over yourself in these heels you don’t notice as you crash into someone. You look up to see shinsou, pleasantly to your surprise. Giving him a big smile you bring him into a tight hug and whisper “it’s been a long time, my friend.” Into his ear. He agrees and returns the hug. “Come on lets get you out of these cameras before the vultures eat you alive.” He gives you a crazy grin. You laugh at his comment and wrap your arm in his walking into the building.

In a very short amount of time the two of you ended up at the bar. You’re drink of choice was a vodka tonic and shinsou got a jameson and ginger. It felt like every 2 minutes someone was coming up and saying hi.

“Hey do you remember that kid over there? What’s his name? Shindou?” You remarked pointing your finger in the most nonchalant way possible.

Shinsou looked out the corner of his eye and let out a chuckle “it sure is. Didn’t you kick his ass during the licensing exam?”

“Oh easily, he’s such a prick. He thinks just cause he has vibration quirk he can get all the girls. He can’t even use it correctly.”

“What’s that’s suppose to mean?” Shinsou knitted his eyebrows together causing you to smirk as you bring your drink to your lips.

“Well the reason I kicked his ass during the licensing exam was because we kinda hooked up in an empty locker room before it started and he couldn’t find certain areas so I told him I’d have a better time doing it myself. He called me a bitch and left me there. I had to show him who the real bitch was.”

Shinsou is pretty much in tears from laughing so hard. Everyone is looking over at this point which is making you laugh. You can’t help but blush and cover your face. “Shin! stop making a scene he’ll look over here!” You couldn’t help but snicker.

You feel a tap on your shoulder and turn around to see a young man with a head set and clip board. “Hello miss Exemplum. Are you ready to get on stage?”

“On stage? What are you talking about?”

“We were told by hawks you would be performing tonight, he said not to trouble you about it before because you get stage fright.”

You put your drink down on the counter. “Who the hell is hawks? What the hell is going on.” Your fold your arms over your chest.

The young man gently takes your hand and pulls you out of your seat “you’re so silly, Exemplum. Hawks told me you would pretend you didn’t know what I was talking about. Come on we start in fifteen minutes!”

You turn your head around to see shinsou passing you your drink with a smile “good luck, you’re gonna need this for the nerves”

You were dumbfounded. Who the fuck is hawks and how did he know you could sing? You haven’t sung in front of people since freshman year when you would do open mic nights down the street from the school. Your very closest friends would go but never this hawks. You don’t even remember that name from high school. You get back stage and down the drink throwing the whole glass in the trash. You see a man quite tall and with tinted blue sunglasses on that kinda matches his suit walking his way over to you. Keeping your best poker face waiting for him to make the first move. Finally he opens his arms with a “Exemplum”. He’s very excited to see you for a complete stranger. Never the less you give the same energy. He sways with you in his arms as if you’re his best friend he hasn’t seen in years. He turns his head into the crock of your neck and whispers “sorry to have to introduce myself like this, but it’s the only way I can give you information. You need to make a clone and have it go to office 367. In the middle filing cabinet is the papers you need.”

Pulling away looking up at hawks with wholesome eyes. “Aw dear hawks it’s so good to see you. I promise to check up with you after I perform. You’re such a ham for surprising me like this.” To most people your voice would sound honest, but hawks somehow knew it was sinister. Letting him go you walk up to the boy with the clip board. “Excuse me, how much time do I have and what song am I singing?”

“You have 5 minutes and you’re singing ‘love on the brain’ by Rihanna. You almost roll your eyes at the choice.

“Okay I’m just gonna use the ladies room before we start.” You start heading over to the bathroom

“Okay miss Exemplum ! I’ll come find you if I need too!”

Shortly you make it to the ladies room and lock yourself in a stall. You keep your eyes close and work your rusty vocal chords using the techniques that are now so foreign to you. As you do this a clone starts multiplying out of your body thanks to twice’s quirk. Your exact replica looking at you and they just nod knowing the plan. You heard a knock on the door.

“Miss Exemplum we have 2 minutes!”

“Okay I’ll be out shortly thank you!”

You look up to see an air vent and look back at your clone. You instantaneously interlock your fingers and lean down so your clone can put there foot into your hand and open the vent for them to crawl to the air duct.

“Miss Exemplum!! We have 30 seconds!”

You bust through the door and storm your way to the stage taking the microphone out of the young mans hand. “Miss Exemplum you’re all sweaty are you okay?” Completely ignoring him you walk even faster. You’re just in front of the curtain when you here the instruments playing. The lights click off and everyone on the other side is slightly shocked to what’s happening. Hearing the instrumentals on your que you start to sing.

‘And you got me like, oh

What you want from me?

(What you want from me?)’

the background singers do their part as you walk out from between the curtains and into the middle of the stage quickly but not rushed remaining elegance.

And I tried to buy your pretty heart, but the price too high

Baby you got me like, oh, mm

You love when I fall apart

(fall apart)

The overhead light finally turns on to reveal you standing there. Hearing some cheers of encouragement coming from shinsou and some other friends; you can’t help but smile.

‘So you can put me together

And throw me against the wall

Baby you got me like ah, woo, ah

Don't you stop loving me

(loving me)

Don't quit loving me

(loving me)

Just start loving me

(loving me)’

Meanwhile your clone is crawling through the duct peering out each vent. Luckily you have a shapeshift quirk allowing you to turn into a cat to be more comfortable and make less noise. After some time of crawling around you were finally able to find the room, thanking the lord for glass windows on the doors making it so you can read the numbers of each room (backwards which fucking sucked).

‘Oh, and baby I'm fist fighting with fire

Just to get close to you

Can we burn something, babe?

And I run for miles just to get a taste

Must be love on the brain

That's got me feeling this way

(feeling this way)

It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good

And I can't get enough

Must be love on the brain yeah

And it keeps cursing my name (cursing my name)

No matter what I do I’m no good with out you and I can’t get enough must be love on the brain

Baby, keep loving me

Just love me, yeah

Just love me

All you need to do is love me, yeah’

You haven’t felt this good in years. Sassing the audience like crazy,giving them all you got. You don’t know how hawks knew, but you loved this song. It reminded you of dabi and not just because it talks about fire. Touya growing up became more insecure about his quirk/ about himself in general so you made a point proving to him that he’s not the monster. he will never be the awful things that endeavor insulted him with. Useless. Worthless. Pest. Faulty. You haven’t seen endeavor since your parents funeral, but if you did you’d spit at his feet. This song not only represents your love for dabi, but your hatred for hero’s like endeavor.

‘Got me like ah-ah-ah-ow

I'm tired of being played like a violin

What do I gotta do to get in your motherfuckin' heart?

Baby like ah, woo, ah

Don't you stop loving me

(loving me)

Don't quit loving me

(loving me)

Just start loving me

(loving me)’

The clone finally finds the room and turns into a snake to get through the chicken wire like material flopping onto a counter against the wall directly below it. It was a really large office on the 8th floor. It almost contained nothing besides a back-wall-corner desk for work space, a main desk for clients and a couch. You form back into a human and get into the computer chair. The light of the screen lights up your face.

‘Oh, and babe I'm fist fighting with fire

Just to get close to you

Can we burn something, babe?

And I run for miles just to get a taste

Must be love on the brain

That's got me feeling this way

(feeling this way)

It beats me black and blue but it fucks me so good

And I can't get enough

Must be love on the brain, yeah

And it keeps cursing my name

(cursing my name)’

As your mud/cell clone eyes dart all over the screen looking for any information you notice something. Tilting your head to the side looking past the the monitor to see a man in a plague mask and suit sitting on the couch staring at you . “I don’t suppose this is your office is it?” You sassed knowing the answered would be no. The man remained silent. “Well then if it’s not your office then it’s mine. I have some paper work to file so excuse me.” Why do you have the shittiest coping mechanisms for confrontation? Taking a pair of dollar store reading glasses off the desk and putting on the very tip of your nose like an old library. Beating the keys like you were writing an essay to save your life. “Do you think your fucking funny or something? You’re disgusting and disease ridden. I know all about your illness and I find it sickening.” The man with the bird mask squints his eyes closing them in on you. He practically is spitting his words in your direction. Knitting your fingers together so they interlock mimicking his face and smiling sinisterly at him. “My names Exemplum. What’s your name?” “Overhaul. Are you looking for these?” He holds the folder up with all of stain and one for all’s paperwork you came to retrieve. Making sure your face stayed in the same smile giggling softly. “You caught me,overhaul.” In one swift movement you got up on top of the desk holding your hands in the air. “Go easy on me,okay?” Leaping off the front of the desk and walking towards him. He stands up making a confused face. He didn’t think it was gonna be this easy. “You wanna see a magic trick?” You wink at the man. “ true magic or a quirk?” He ALMOST seemed intrigued. “True magic.” Using momo’s quirk you make 5 cards all of different values and houses from behind your back. You put them out in front of you facing down ward so you can only see the generic side. “Pick a card. I’ll close my eyes and put it back anywhere in the deck the same way you got it.” You shut your eyes loosely holding the cards up in front you so only he can see the values of each one. Overhaul was hesitant but he did pick. It was the 3 of clubs. He memorized it and put it at the left end of the deck,but not fully in so you could feel it. “You all set?”. He hummed in response. Eyes now open you look at all your options. making the cards faces look at the floor. You pull a card on the right side and face the card towards overhaul smirking. “This it?” You can tell he’s PISSED. “What kind of joke is this? No, you idiot. That’s not my card.” You twist the card in your fingers really fast revealing a flash drive. “I never said I was going to pick out your card. I told you to pick a card. You chose wrong.” You start dashing toward the wall/window of glass Ariel jumping into mid air 8 stories up. You twist your body mid air so you were facing him flinging his 3 of clubs at him like a kunai. It just manages to scratch his wrist and you immediately pull it back by the invisible string you flawlessly attached to it. Very excited to practice this new quirk. Overhaul can’t help but watch this unfold completely surprised by your actions. Just as you were loosing momentum and gravity found its way back to you, you close your eyes taking in the feeling of weightlessness. Only to be woken up by a big hand roughly taking yours. Your eyes look up to see blue tinted glasses with the same color suit. You’ve never been so thankful for a flying turkey in your life.

‘No matter what I do

I'm no good without you

And I can't get enough

Must be love on the brain’

Once you hit that final high note the whole building goes up in a roar and you take a bow. Knowing the clone found the files and is on the way back to the league you can actually enjoy yourself.

#reader x dabi #dabi lemon #my hero fanfic #my hero academia #my hero academy fanfiction #my hero academy oc #mha x you #mha shinsou #mha x reader #touya todoroki #buko no hero academia #hawks #overhaul #shigaraki x dabi #shinsou x oc

[connorssock]

Large scale operations across the less than wholesome part of the city thankfully weren’t a common occurrence for the DPD. But when it had to be done, everybody pulled together and worked as a unit, even when paired with someone they weren’t accustomed to. Hank and Gavin were each assigned rookies who’d been on the force for a couple of months at most while Connor and Nines were given access to the command centre to help organise the search.

It didn’t help that snow had started falling, the DPD stab proof vests did nothing to keep the chill out as Gavin and Rogers prowled the back alleys. If conditions got much worse then command would pull the operation, delay it for later. It was unlikely the gang they were after would do anything is such adverse weather.

“You hear that?” Rogers asked, rubbing his hands together to keep warm.

Gavin shook his head the frowned as he tried to listen. There was nothing but the susurration as the snow settled around them.

“You take point, I’ll take the back, lets check it out,” he ordered.

“Sure thing, Detective,” Rogers held back a smile.

He turned down the alley and as soon as he was out of Gavin’s sight, took a few more turns until he was out on the main road again. With the cold and snow, there was no way the gang was going to be around, it was a fool’s errand. Rogers stepped into the coffee shop and sighed as the warmth hit him.

There was only one more sip of his coffee left when his radio crackled to life, command had called the search off, all units were to report back to the vans. Emptying his cup, Rogers wandered out and plastered a look of innocence on his face in preparation for seeing Gavin again. Excuses were ready at the tip of his tongue about taking the wrong turn, the high rises blocking their radio signal, following a trail which turned out to be nothing more than a stray dog. They all sounded pretty legitimate in his head, he was confident he could get away with it.

At the van, people were being called by name, checked off like school children. It made Rogers want to roll his eyes, they weren’t some unruly idiots that needed to be supervised.

“Rogers and Reed,” Connor called and Rogers stepped forward.

There was no sign of Gavin pushing forward and people peered around.

“Where’s Detective Reed?” Connor asked him.

Curious eyes turned on him and Rogers tried to find words, any excuse he could.

“I don’t know. We got separated. Then the order came through to return so I thought we’d meet up again here.”

“How did you get split up?” Hank’s gruff voice from behind threw him.

“There was a noise, I tracked it but it was only a stray dog,” Rogers was clutching at his lies as Nines sauntered up next to Connor.

“Why are you lying?” Connor’s question was so simple and yet nothing Rogers could say was going to be enough. He threw his hands up in defeat.

“Fine, this whole operation was a bust, we knew it from the start. It was dumb to send us out into the snow and I was dying for a coffee. Everybody knows that being partnered with Reed is a punishment detail so I told him I heard something, we split up and I grabbed a coffee. And look where we are, the operation’s been called off. He’s probably out of radio range and will turn up at the precinct later on just and pissed off as usual. I don’t see what the problem is.”

“The problem is, Officer,” Hank all but spat his title, “is that you left your partner alone on an active operation. Detective Reed is a highly regarded member of this team, being assigned as his partner is an honour not a punishment. You’d do well to learn from him because his work is always of a high standard.”

Behind Connor, Nines was already talking lowly into his radio and he nodded at Hank while a hand unobtrusively turned white to interface with Connor.

The clipboard of names was passed over to Miller as Hank pulled his hat back on.

“Nines, Connor,” he called, “you’re with me.”

They trudged through the snow which was falling thick and heavy by then. Between Connor and Nines they had the section covered by Rogers and Gavin up on a map and were making detailed plans of tracking their path.

They didn’t need to plan. Hank kicked at the snow as they walked when something shiny caught on his foot.

“Shit,” he swore as he picked up a DPD badge. Not three paces from it was a broken radio, stamped on. They rounded the corner and Nines’ scanners picked up evidence of a scuffle and traces of blood on the walls.

A little way down the alley, a figure was propped up against the wall, snow had settled on them even as the ground around them was red. Hank swore again and the three of them ran towards Gavin.

His breaths were shallow, pulse fluttered weakly as the fingers of one hand were curled around his other arm, trying to put pressure on the gashes though blood seeped out between lax fingers sluggishly.

“Officer down, I repeat officer down,” Connor radioed it in, “requesting immediate medical assistance to my location.”

Nines brushed the snow from Gavin’s hair and shoulders, eased him to lie down, head pillowed on his lap while Hank pulled his coat off and draped it over him and Connor did the same.

The medics were quick to arrive, Nines helped ease Gavin onto their stretcher and they rushed away with him while a forensics team helped secure the scene. There was nothing left or the three of them to do except return to work.

“He got lucky,” Nines muttered lowly, “hypothermia slowed down his bleeding. On a hot summer day he likely would have bled out before we found him.”

Connor’s LED matched the red of Nines’ while Hank cursed. They got back to the precinct and noted with a twisted sense of satisfaction that Roger’s desk was already cleared and Fowler’s office glass was frosted up. It didn’t stop the sounds of yelling from escaping.

At long last, the door opened and Rogers emerged looking pale and clutching a box. One of the android officers escorted him out while Fowler motioned towards Nines.

“You’ve got the rest of the day off. Go to the hospital, make sure Gavin’s okay. Also, give him this.” Nines took the $10 note with a hesitant look. “He won our bet. Said Rogers was too much of a loose cannon for detective work. You can tell him the department’s quota for hot headed idiots is already filled. We didn’t need to break in another him.”

At the hospital, Gavin was dozing fitfully under a heated blanket. There was a bruise already dark and puffy on his temple and across his cheek, the contrast made the rest of his skin sallow in comparison. A thick bandage wrapped around his arm and a bag of fluids dripped steadily.

Quietly, Nines settled in the visitor’s chair, and sat vigil. Each time Gavin looked to be uncomfortable, face scrunched up as dreams plagued him, he ran careful fingers through his hair to settle him. It worked and Gavin sighed into his pillow with each little reassurance. At long last he blinked awake and watched Nines.

“What’s the score, hardcore?” he croaked.

“Captain Fowler says,” Nines straightened up as he prepared to imitate Fowler’s voice, “the department’s quota for hot headed idiots is already filled. We didn’t need to break in another him.”

That at least had Gavin huffing out a laugh.

“Did you give you $10?”

Nines nodded and pulled the money from his pocket.

“Great,” Gavin’s eyes lit up, “there’s a toy shop on the corner by the place that does the great hot dogs. They have a miniature cannon that shoots marbles for $6. Could you get that and leave it on his desk please?”

“I am not your personal messenger, you’re going to have to do that yourself,” Nines replied but he leaned forward to kiss the pout from Gavin’s lips.

“Good,” he hummed. “Your body temperature is almost back to normal, blood pressure still lower than desirable but it’s improving.”

“You know what would help boost both?” Gavin leered.

“I am not making love you in in a hospital!” Nines tried to keep his voice quiet and not too scandalised. Gavin snickered.

“I was going to suggest cuddles you pervert.”

Not that Nines believed him, but he still carefully snuggled under the cover Gavin had lifted for him and dutifully turned his ventilation off to overheat just enough for Gavin to relish in the warmth.

Three days later when Gavin returned to work, he watched Fowler walk into his office with a grin. As expected, Fowler was back in his doorway and glaring down at him, cannon in hand. Cheekily, Gavin saluted him and burst out laughing when a second cannon appeared in Fowler’s other hand - it had a 9 carefully painted on it in CyberLife Sans.

#reed900 #dbh: gavin #dbh: rk900 #dbh: hank #dbh: connor #gavin whump #cw: blood #cw: hypothermia #bad police practices

[goforwardgreenwriter-blog]

The Worm Reads: Empire of Storms, Ch 47 - 48

My therapy bills have been steadily rising ever since I took on the challenge of reading this book.

If you recall correctly, last time we left off where some Ilkens attacked their ship and revealed the big baddie Erawan knows of her Wyrdkey. Chapter 47 picks up immediately after that reveal.

What, were you expecting an angry rant from me? Sadly, this book has crushed my very soul, and the quicker I stop criticizing SJM’s glaring flaws, the quicker I am freed from this demon.

Rowan hauled ass back to their ship, his magic near-flinging him through the air.

Man, I see why everyone says SJM’s writing is amazing. Love it when epic fantasy medieval Fae characters describe themselves as hauling their asses around, and getting all pissy at one another. Love it!

But Aelin wasn’t moving. Gavriel and Aedion, bloodied and limping, were barely moving. Fenrys, his chest a bloody mess with greenish slime —poison …

I’m sure these very painful injuries will never be brought up after this chapter. Rowboat decides to be the hero of the day and picks up a bow to shoot down the Ilken.

“A gold coin says he misses,” Fenrys rasped. “Save your breath for healing,” Aelin snapped. “Make it two,” Aedion said behind him. “I say he hits.” “You can all go to hell,” Aelin snarled. But then added, “Make it five. Ten says he downs it with the first shot.”

If these characters weren’t assholes, maybe I’d enjoy this banter. Also Fenrys, your chest is ripped open and soaked with poison, you should be knocking on death’s door by now, not making witty remarks.

Rowboat gets a clean headshot because of course he does, then tells Assdion and Fenrys to pay up, pricks. His words, not mine. The scene ends. Oh, I can totally see why a cliffhanger was necessary, so much happened after the last chapter ended.

Assdion is thinking about the battle and how he and his father fought side by side. Oh, fuck you SJM, give me that father son content!!!! I want Gav being a good dad damnit show me, don’t tell me!

[Aelin] still knelt over Fenrys, offering Rowan nothing more than a pat on his thigh as he stormed past to help with the other wounded. A pat on the thigh— for making a shot that Aedion was fairly certain most of his Bane would have judged to be impossible.

Another reason I hate Assdion’s POVs: they’re 95% him splooging over Rowboat and Alien. Like ungh we get it, Rowboat is the best warrior ever you don’t need to beat us over the head with it.

Aedion set down the pail of water [Aelin]’d asked him to get for Fenrys, trying not to wince as she wiped away the green poison that oozed out. A few feet away, his father was tending to a blubbering pirate—who had barely more than a tear to the thigh.

Hey man, not everyone can deal with pain the same way, especially not someone’s who mortal. Have you ever considered the pirate might be horrified and shaken up after witnessing his friends being eaten alive, that he might be in shock right now? Also, Gav is such a sweetheart for helping to comfort him. Lowkey shipping nameless pirate and Gav right now.

Fenrys tries to get Alien to tend to the others, which admittedly is rather noble and selfless of him, but dude, you got poison leaking out of your chest. Alien asks Fenrys how his magic works under the excuse of keeping him awake, but it’s actually so SJM can info dump at us.

“No one knows where it comes from—what it is,” Fenrys said between shallow breaths, fingers curling and uncurling at his sides. “But it lets me slip between folds in the world. Only short distances, and only a few times before I’m drained, but … it’s useful on a killing field.”

Oh, of fucking course nobody knows where it comes from. This is SJM on her knees begging you and I not to think about how her world works or why her magic is so inconsistent. She just slaps abilities onto her ocs and gives no thought as to how it all works in the big picture.

“What’s your shield made of, then?” Fenrys tried and failed to shrug. But Gavriel muttered from where he worked on the still-whimpering pirate, “Arrogance.” Aelin snorted, but didn’t dare take her eyes off Fenrys’s injury as she said, “So you do have a sense of humor, Gavriel.” The Lion of Doranelle gave a wary smile over his shoulder.

I love Gavriel..... I’m stanning him..... Wait every time I want to stan someone in this novel, SJM ruins them. Shit. Never mind.

“Lorcan was a bastard in Maeve’s palace, don’t worry,” Fenrys smirked, his bronze face wan.

Unghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh bronze

“Your parents?” Aedion pressed when Aelin herself seemed to be straining for words. He’d seen her heal little cuts, and slowly repair Manon’s wound over days, but …

Fenrys is almost dying because of the massive wound on his chest but we really out here focusing on Alien getting exhausted, huh.... that’s the level you’ve stooped to, SJM............

Rasping, laboring breaths from both of [Fenrys and Aelin]. Aedion shifted so that Aelin could lean wholly against him, biting down on the weight it put on his already-swollen knee.

OH MY GOD WE REALLY ARE. I don’t give a fuck if Alien is a “”little tired :((”” from using her magic, FENRYS IS GODDAMN DYING. SJM STOP METAPHORICALLY SUCKING ALIEN’S DICK FOR ONE GODDAMN SECOND PLEASE.

Fenrys says that serving Maeve fufills the male Fae need to serve and blehhh its gross. But I don’t care, Gav decides to finally spill the beans on his backstory and HOLY SHIT I AM READY. GIVE ME THE CONTEXT.

Gav was a soldier who came from a noble family. Being the youngest of three brothers, he wouldn’t inherit or rule ever, so he became a soldier. That’s why Maeve took interest in him, and why he joined her.

[Gavriel] rolled his shoulders. Fidgeting. “I only hated [serving Maeve] once. Only wanted to leave once.” He didn’t continue. And Aedion knew what the unspoken words were. Aelin brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “You loved [Aedion’s mom] that much?”

I-I CAN’T BELIEVE... IN A SJM NOVEL... I’M FEELING EMPATHY AND SORROW FOR A MAIN CHARACTER....

So Gav fell in love with Assdion’s mom and was willing to attempt to break the oath to Maeve to run off with her. That’s just... so sad but so good for his character hhhhh Gav deserves the world........

Honor is my code,” Gavriel said. “But if Maeve had tried to harm either you or her, Aedion, I would have done everything in my power to get you out.

Shit, I’m such a sucker for this kind of parent/child relationship. Assdion also feels bad for being a dick to his father, so that felt amazing to read. Overall, this was a good scene. A lot is left unsaid and not jammed down our throats, but it clearly shows Gav was a selfless and as good a father as he could’ve been. Did someone break into the editing room just to patch up the scenes with Gav? Nameless editor, you are my hero.

Aelin pushed off Aedion at last, trying and failing to get to her feet. Aedion reached for her as the focus went out of her now-dull eyes, but Rowan was already there, smoothly sweeping her up before she kissed the planks. Too fast—she must have drained her reserves too fast, and without any food in her system.

Normally I’d bitch about poor wittle Alien’s feefees getting all the attention while there are men dying on the ship but whatever, that last scene put me in a good mood so we’re not complaining today, folks.

The chapter ends with Assdion keeping watch during the night with Lysandra. I can’t believe that chapter was actually decent and made me choked up... how will SJM ruin it? Let’s find out in chapter 48.

A low, rumbling growl sounded, and Dorian looked across the deck, to the prow. The witch was still there. Still tending to Abraxos’s wounds, as she had been all night.

P-PURE....WHOLESOME......Manon and Abraxos are truly a treasure in this dumpster fire of a novel....

Manon had not let anyone near him. Aelin had tried once, and when Manon snarled at her, Aelin had cursed enough to make everyone else halt, saying she’d rutting deserve it if the beast died. Manon had threatened to rip out her spine, Aelin had given her a vulgar gesture, and Lysandra had been forced to monitor the space between them for an hour, perched in the rigging of the mainmast in ghost leopard form, tail swaying in the breeze.

Manon: Hey so I have no reason to really trust any of you and you’ve made threats to me before, so don’t get near my only friend on this ship.

Alien: what a slutty bitch!! you deserve to have your only friend die!!! fuck you you bitch!!!!

Words cannot describe how much I hate Alien is there a scene where someone finally kicks her ass? Please I need it.

Dorito and Manon ““banter”“ for a while and I’m already falling asleep zzzz

[Manon] met [Dorian’s] gaze, as if willing him to see a century of all that she’d done. “I am not mortal. I do not play by your rules. I have killed and hunted men for sport. Do not mistake me for a human woman, princeling.” “I have no interest in human women,” he purred. “Too breakable.”

W.....what.....

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK AM I READING

Is this a reference to Sorscha???? The healer who died rebelling against the evil king??

YOU CONSIDER THAT BREAKABLE. YOU CONSIDER HUMAN WOMEN WEAK AND BENEATH YOUR FEET NOW. SJM. YOU FUCKING, TYOU DHAHKFGDJFGS DHFAGJFD HDSFGJD

I AM SO FUCKING FURIOUS LIKE HOW, HOW IS THIS IN A YA SERIES. THIS IS GOING TO TELL YOUNG GIRLS THEY’RE WEAK FOR FALLING IN LOVE AND NOT HAVING SPECIAL POWERS LIKE MANON. WHAT THE EVER LIVING HOLY FUCK SHIT IS THIS.

FUCK YOU, SJM. FUCK. YOU.

“So you miscalculated,” Manon said. “So [the ilken] tracked you. Don’t get distracted with the minor defeats. This is war. Cities will be lost, people slaughtered. And if I were you, I would be more concerned about why they sent so few of the ilken.”

Manon is absolutely right, of course, but Alien shuts her down and everyone pats her on the ass for it. God I am fucking sick of the narrative bending over backwards to praise Alien for breathing.

Manon said a bit numbly, as if it was the first time she’d even spoken it to herself, “I am the last Crochan Queen—the last direct descendant of Rhiannon Crochan herself.”

Because literally nobody can not be royalty in this series. Average people from normal backgrounds rising up to do extraordinary deeds? Pfffft, nobody will read or like that. I am going to proceed to cling to my copies of the Lord of the Rings trilogy and cry now.

Two queens—there were two queens among them, Dorian realized.

And two princes - Rowboat and Assdion were described as princes for whatever the fuck reason - and a king, which is Dorito’s crusty ass. No wonder my favorite character, Gav, isn’t royalty, everyone who is is an asshole.

“Maybe [Maeve] told Erawan [that Aelin is alive],” Aedion said. Fenrys whipped his head to the general. “She’s never had any contact with Erawan, or Adarlan.” “As far as you know,” Aedion mused. “Unless she’s a talker in the bedroom.”

Great, so now we can add Assdion slut shaming Fenrys to the list of his sins. Oh, but since Fenrys is a guy, it’s played off as a joke because of course men can’t be slut shamed, tee hee! I fucking hate you, SJM.

Fenrys says something that makes Alien think of Baba Yellowlegs, a character in the carnival in Cr0wn of Midnight. Turns out she was a fortune teller who is now connected to this plot because SJM totally didn’t pull the Fae shit out her ass for H0F, nope!

Rowan knocked on the door of their private bathing room. [Aelin]’d locked it. Walked into their room, then into the bathing room, and locked him out. And now she was puking her guts up.

Indoor plumbing.....private bathrooms...... on a medieval ship..... they have functioning toilets......in the medieval century......

THIS GODDAMN WORLDBUILDING. So what goddamn time period is this in? Clearly its like medieval Britain, they have monarchies and castles, and use swords/arrows but then they have shit like toilets?? You have to pick a time period and stick to it, gdi, you can’t pick and choose!

Rowboat flips because she locked him out. Maybe she’s sick and wants to be left alone, fuck face??? Seriously he’s being so possessive and controlling this is not healthy!!!

Ten seconds. Ten more seconds seemed like a fair enough amount of time before [Rowan] crunched down on the handle and splintered the lock.

Holy fucking possessiveness. Batman! I fucking hate this asshole.

Rowan looked at the bucket [Aelin]’d half filled, then at her bloodless lips. At the sweat beaded on her brow.

Oh, so this means no toilets? Well, I suppose I’ll have to apologize a bit for my rant, but having private bathrooms is still dumb. later Rowboat sees that everyone has gone to shit on the nearby islands.

Eyllwe. Eyllwe was burning.

Greaaaaaaaat can’t wait to see how these people’s suffering is reduced to nothing but angst for Alien’s feefees......

#the worm talks #the worm reads: eos #anti sjm #anti tog #anti eos

[vennilavee]

Make Me Feel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x POCReader - Sort of. Platonic friendships all around.

Summary: You’re spiraling downwards and don’t know how to handle it.

Warnings: signs of depression, some cursing, some adult scenarios

Word Count: 1378

A/N: Read part 1 here if you would like to: Mutual

Sort of a part II to Mutual. I know I just posted Mutual today, but I couldn’t get this out of my head. I didn’t expect the direction that this took- I was honestly going to go a completely different way with it but this is what I came up with. I’m thinking about maybe writing 1-2 more parts to this but idk. 

More importantly, if anyone who sees this feels like things are ever too hard, just know that I’ve always got your back and that you can talk to me whenever you want if you need someone to listen. I would love any constructive criticism on how you think I can better represent depression/signs of depression in my writing, so please let me know what you think.

......

You’re spiraling into a whirlwind of self-deprecation, and you know it. The thought flits around in your head and disappears as quickly as it had come. You quickly toss back a pair of tequila shots and thrust the lime in your mouth for sweet relief. Tequila was something you reserved only for special occasions- for when you wanted to get absolutely obliterated. But you found yourself throwing back these tequila shots more often over the last few weeks. You enjoyed the way the tequila burned your throat before settling in your stomach with a happy hum. You know your eyes have no semblance of life in them and your steps are wobbly, but the arms that circle your waist from behind hold you upright. You don’t even know his name, or is it her name? You can’t even see straight, but everything is fine.

You had begun to pull away from your friends over the last week or so. You weren’t sure, you were losing track of time. Worried texts and phone calls went unanswered for hours that became days. You threw yourself into work until that became your primary excuse and then you just stopped answering altogether. Sam, Steve, Natasha and Bucky had all come around knocking on your door but you pretended like you weren’t home most of the time. Like you weren’t sobbing in your bed, your heart breaking with every sob that ripped out of you. You wished they would break down the door and find you, a complete mess. But you didn’t have the physical or mental strength to just open the door yourself. They probably thought you needed space. Which maybe you did.

That night you had taken that random guy home from the bar had sparked something inside of you and you didn’t want to let it go. The recklessness made you feel alive, it made your blood burn, and it made your heart thump with anticipation. Anything to avoid thinking about Bucky, after all. 

At this point, it wasn’t even about your feelings for him anymore. He deserved better than you. He deserved someone wholesome, sweet, gentle and lovely. Someone who reminded him of the warmth of sunshine and the brightness of moonlight, both at the same time. He deserved better than someone who's head is spinning from self-loathing, someone who can’t stand the sight of themselves anymore, someone who can’t get their shit together. Bucky has been through hell and back. They all have. All of your friends deserve someone better than you. Someone who runs away from their problems the way you do. You can’t even brush your teeth without a frown jarring your face. The thoughts that bounce around in your head are wrong and you know it- you��re pathetic/you’re such a failure/nobody cares/nobody cares/nobody cares/why should anyone care when you don’t even care? But you find yourself powerless to argue with them. You’re so deep in denial that you can only focus on what’s right in front of you. Focusing on anything else hurts too much.

You feel like such a cliche as you dance around the club, taking whatever drinks are offered to you. You’ve turned to alcohol for relief but you aren’t really surprised. You had always been an avid social drinker and now you had isolated yourself so far that it was the only companion you had.

You barely feel lips kissing your neck and you’re surprised to taste saltiness on your upper lip. You’re crying, you realize. You’re crying because all you can think about suddenly is Bucky and Steve and Sam and Natasha and how much you miss them, how stubborn you have been. You’ve probably hurt them.

...

The first week you started pulling away, Steve had suggested that they should break down your door. They did toy with the idea, but the ultimately let it be. Maybe you needed space. After all, wouldn’t you come to them if you were upset?

But then, you didn’t. You had completely fell off the grid and if Natasha hadn’t been following you around the city to make sure you were safe for the past few weeks, they wouldn’t have known. They wouldn’t have known how you threw yourself into alcohol, barely ate proper meals, barely slept properly. They wouldn’t have seen how much you were barely keeping your head above the water. You were good at hiding it, in the beginning. You were all smiles at work, making small-talk and doing what you did best. Then you stopped caring about hiding it. You had called out of work a few days and hadn’t left your apartment. But Natasha saw you bringing men and women back to your apartment and night and she knew. She knew you were going through something and didn’t know how to handle it. Did any of them know how to handle it? Her heart broke a little when she watched from afar as your eyes dimmed to bleakness.

They planned to pull you away from yourself that night that they followed you to this club. None of them could watch you self-destruct from afar anymore. 

...

You see a pair of familiar eyes across the club and you push whoever was behind you away, telling them to go away before squinting to see who it was. In your drunk state, you’re seeing double and it takes you a minute to realize that it’s Natasha and Steve who are heading towards you like they’re on a mission. You can’t tell if they look pissed or not, but just seeing them makes you cry again. Your lips are trembling and Natasha has your head in the crevice of her shoulder, whispering quiet comforts despite the noise surrounding them. You raise your head and glance at Steve, launching yourself at him and mumbling apologies about how shitty you have been. They can both almost taste the alcohol you’ve drank and look at each other with worried glances.

Sam and Bucky find them quickly and you feel so small, and so silly standing amongst them. Yet, you can’t find a shred of judgment on any of their faces. Instead, they’re all looking at you like you’re the greatest thing you’ve ever seen, as if you can do no wrong.

Bucky’s heart is in his throat as he fights back his own tears when he sees you. He’s missed you so much and he berates himself for not trying harder to get to you sooner. He wants to wrap you up in his arms and let you cry into him. He wants to be there for you as you fight your demons away, the same way you were there for him when he was fighting his own demons away. He wants to rake his fingers through your hair, the way you do whenever he’s sad. He wants to take care of you, the way you deserve to be taken care of.

You wrap your arms around Sam, feeling your tears falling even harder. Sam whispers something that sounds like I love you into your hair and your legs feel like jelly. When you finally hug Bucky, he’s gripping you so tightly that your lungs hurt in the best way. You think a piece of you gets glued back together by how tightly he’s holding you. The world around you two floats away for a little bit and you pull yourself away from him a little to look into his blue eyes. A lump forms in your throat when you see tears in his eyes and he kisses your forehead. He’s so afraid to lose you, and you can feel that even if he doesn’t say it.

The four of them take you home and Steve even offers to give you a piggyback ride, which you take without hesitation. Once you start feeling nauseous you jump off his back and promptly puke in a nearby trash can. Natasha rubs your back and ties your hair up with a hair tie while you’re mumbling incoherent apologies. Natasha catches you just as you’re about to pass out and Bucky offers to carry you. Natasha shoots him a fond grin as Bucky picks you up bridal style, and they continue with their journey back to your apartment.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #tw: depression #bucky x you #bucky barnes #my writing