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sinner-as-saint · 4 years

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You Know Just What I Need.

Head of Security!Reader x Bucky Barnes AU.

Run-through: Freshly out of uni, Bucky Barnes comes back to live in his family home. Given he’s the only son of a billionaire, he needs security around at all times. And his dad puts you in charge of his son’s safety until he comes home from a business trip. You intend on doing your job as perfectly as always, but what you didn’t know it that Bucky is a spoilt brat who is only interested in pestering you and making your life a living hell… until eventually you are left with no other choice but to teach him a lesson in order for him to learn how to behave.

Themes: spoilt brat!Bucky, smut, fluff, slight dom!reader,

a/n: I was re-reading my bodyguard!stucky au the other day and I thought, what if the roles were reversed…? Enjoy!

“He’s here.”

One of the guards spoke through the comms, signaling you that Bucky Barnes was here. You were in the monitor room upstairs, watching over all the live footage of security cameras placed around the Barnes’ property. You observed the one at the gate and watched how the expensive car made its way through the gates.

He’s here.

You walked out of the room and made your way downstairs, on your way to meet your boss’ only son. You were the head of security, working for Mr. Barnes. You led an entire team who helped you in directing the rest of the staff employed by Barnes. Whenever your boss was away – which was always – every decision regarding the properties and companies went through you first.

Security processes, new policies, and most financial decisions, legal or illegal transactions – basically everything needed your seal of approval when the boss was away. You and Mr. Barnes had a comfortable bond since day one, he trusted you immensely, which is why you had been handed over the responsibility of taking care of his son, Bucky, until the latter’s father comes back from a business trip.

Basically the son was your responsibility for the coming weeks. Rumor had it that the young man was a nightmare; the complete opposite of his father. Since your job allowed it, you stalked him on his many social media platforms as soon as you received the phone call from your boss, just to get an insight of what you were getting into. You spent hours scrolling through the many pictures Bucky posts all the time. And so far, you gathered that he was; a brat, a party animal, spends his father’s money like it’s no one’s business on expensive cars and clothing. He enjoyed the finer things in life.

Oh well, you thought to yourself, this one is going to be quite a handful. Besides, rich kids hate security anyways.

You got downstairs and found some of the guards standing at the foyer, you joined them and they all gave you courteous nods. You noticed how they all stopped slouching as soon as you approached them, they stood straight. You smirked a little. Your job did require you to be somewhat intimidating and controlling, but you liked it. You quite enjoyed the power which came along the job.

In less than a minute, he finally walked through the doors; the one and only – Bucky. He entered the house with a gait which radiated arrogance. You refrained from rolling your eyes at him and his almost visible cockiness. But, you expected no less.

Dressed in all black, leather jacket and boots; you had to admit he was an attractive young man.

“Well, well, there’s nothing better than coming home after 5 years and being welcomed by a group of guards!” he sassed, looking at the guys. And you saw how he did a double take when he saw you. He did that thing that most men do when they see you for the first time; stare.

Perfect hair, minimal makeup, bold red lip, high heels for the aesthetics and wearing a tailored black suit with a white button down shirt – you looked great and you knew it. So you let him stare, just like you let all of them stare. Only not many men approached you, most of them were intimidated.

But Bucky wasn’t one of those, no. Bucky was shameless, and cocky and confident. He walked right up to you, eyed you up and down and smirked.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes! What’s your name, beautiful?” he asked, surprising you a little. But surprising the rest of the guards even more. They all turned their heads in sync to look at the exchange between you and Bucky. Because no one ever dared to talk to you like that before.

You smirked and tilted your head up just a little, looked Bucky right in the eyes. “Y/N. Head of security. My team and I were appointed by your father to keep you away from trouble until he gets back home. Because you’re unable to do so on your own despite being a grown man.” You answered with a straight face and nothing but sarcasm lacing your words.

Bucky was a little taken aback, usually women melt under his stare – but not you. He heard a chuckle or two come from the group of guards who stood nearby and he felt a little, just a little intimidated. But he liked that. You were fiery, and he was digging it. “Anything else, Mr. Barnes?” you asked again, breaking his little reverie.

He shook his head. “No.” he still had that damn smirk on his face.

You faked smiled at him. “Very well then, Wilson will show you to your room. He and Quill will be your bodyguards for the days to come.” You briefly explained, and pointed to Sam and Peter.

Bucky spared them a dirty look and by the time he looked back at you, you began walking away. “Hey, wait!” he called out after you. You stopped and turned around, refraining from rolling your eyes again. Bucky smirked, and walked over to you again.

“Why can’t you be my bodyguard? You seem badass enough for that. Besides, we could really have a lot of fun together you and I.” he finished with a wink.

You flashed him another faint, fake smile. “Mr. Barnes, you should know that I have a lot more important things that require my attention. My team needs me to help run your father’s company while he’s away. I can’t possibly do that and babysit you at the same time.” You leaned in just a little and whispered the last sentence just so the guys won’t hear you.

Bucky chuckled as you stared at him for another second before turning around, leaving him behind again. And oh did he enjoy watching you walk away. He had never had any woman be so uninterested in him before. So this was very new to him. And he was intrigued.

Like you said, his two bodyguards showed him to his room where he spent the rest of the day. He thought of you, shamelessly, while he showered. Self-abusing himself under the warm water as he thought of your bold personality, and those irresistible eyes of yours… and your red lips, and your body… and the way you carried yourself, confidence and power surrounding you. He had only met you hours ago, but he wanted you. Bad.

He made a mental note to pester you and annoy you until you finally give in. because he was Bucky Barnes, whatever he wanted he got. And right now there was nothing more he wanted than you. Bucky didn’t know exactly where or how this would go, but one thing he knew for sure – he had to have you.

---

The next two days were absolutely terrible. Actually, the days were fine; it’s Bucky who made them terrible.

It started out when your boss called you, asking you if you could stay under the same roof as his son. For the latter’s safety and well-being, because there was no one else he trusted around his son more than you. Not having the heart to say no to the old man, you agreed.

Bucky was excited when he heard this decision made by his father. And suddenly, all of his shirts went missing. He paraded around with just his sweatpants on, purposely entering and leaving the room which you were in several times just to get your attention.

Sure it was annoying, but you couldn’t complain much; he was fit. Now you knew why he had so many girls around him all the time on all of his social media posts. The guy was hot!

He annoyed you even more by constantly flirting with you, without hesitation. Or he would do this thing where he would purposely walk by you, and make sure his body brushes against yours each time. But you worked for his dad so there was nothing you could do or say. However no matter what he did, he was never disrespectful.

He even tried to have your number, to which you denied at first. Then he thought he blackmailed you by saying what if he gets in trouble one day and how he should have it just in case. And you rolled your eyes and gave him your number just so he would shut up.

But he didn’t.

Given you had to live with him, you settled in one of the many guest bedrooms. You chose the one on the ground floor, trying to be as far away from Bucky’s room as possible. But still, he annoyed you all through the night by texting you incessantly. And it was always cheesy texts which made you question how is he a 25 year old adult;

‘I can’t sleep. Come cuddle me?’

‘I know you’re awake. Are you possibly thinking about me? ;)’

‘I would sleep better with you here with me yk’

‘I’m all alone… in my bed… thinking of you… with my hand wrapped around my big… Bible because I pray to God that one of these days you respond to my messages jfc’

You would never respond to any of his messages. You would just laugh and turn your phone on silent each night before going to bed.

It’s alright, you told yourself, I can keep him safe and ignore him at the same time, right?

Wrong.

A few days later, Bucky received an invite to a prestigious party being held in the city by one of his father’s closest friend and long-time business ally. And given his dad wasn’t here, Bucky was the one who would have to go in his place, he couldn’t possibly miss it.

But there was a problem – Bucky needed a date.

“Absolutely not.” You denied him right when he came into the study room, where you were dealing with paperwork, asking you to be his date for the party tomorrow.

He sighed dramatically. “Why not? If you go as my date, you could keep an eye on me as well.” He approached you by the book shelf and stood a little too close. He leaned in and whispered, “Because I tend to misbehave a lot.” He breathed in your ear in his deep, velvety voice.

And you felt a tingle dance down your spine when he whispered in your ear, but you convinced yourself it was nothing.

You thought over it. His dad had specifically asked not to let him go anywhere on his own. Plus, you wouldn’t trust him on his own. Lately even Sam and Peter had been complaining that he could be unmanageable.

“Fine.” You agreed on going as his date to the party.

---

The lavish party was being held at an equally grand mansion.

You should have known it was a bad idea to come here as Bucky’s date. Because not only was he absolutely shameless and flirty, and annoying but this spoilt brat also took the liberty to tell everyone that you were his girlfriend before you could stop him or correct him.

And soon, you two became the talk of the room; he noticed that the men gave him envious glares while you noticed that the ladies gave you envious glares.

“We look great together.” He whispered in your ear and proceeded to lean down and kiss your cheek and pulled you closer while the two of you were slow dancing, after he begged you to. And you had to keep fake smiling as you looked up at him with nothing but annoyance in your eyes.

You kept your hands around his shoulders while he smirked and placed one of his hand right on your butt. “Come on, admit it.” He said, full of cockiness.

You gently moved his hand from your ass to the side of your leg, where your thigh holster was, with a handgun in it. His smirk disappeared for a few moments as he felt the gun through your stunning evening gown and you smirked this time, looking up at him.

Just for show, you leaned in to kiss his cheek as well. “Try that again and I’ll shoot you and make it seem like an accident.” You whispered in his ear and pulled away to fake smile at him.

Bucky chuckled. “Can’t tell if you threatened me or turned me on even more, babe.” He whispered, winking at you and you rolled your eyes at him.

You left the dimmed dance floor as soon as the song ended. And you went to grab your clutch and went to get a drink at the bar. You sipped on it lazily, then noticed that Bucky wasn’t by your side yet; annoying you like he had been all night. You turned around, expecting to find him near you somewhere. But you didn’t see him.

You panicked for a moment. But then your phone rang in your clutch. You answered it immediately once you saw that it was Bucky.

“Where the hell are you?” you whisper-yelled through the phone.

He chuckled. “Aww, miss me already? Can’t even leave you for a few minutes? Jesus, you’re so obsessed with me.” He sounded just as cocky as ever. And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he had that damn smirk on his face right now.

You sighed, less worried now that you knew he was alright. “Bucky, where are you?” you asked, your tone serious.

“We have a problem.” He answered.

“We?”

“Well I do, but you’ll have to fix it. It’s bad.” He spoke again.

You sighed again. “Everyone here already thinks I’m dating you. What could be worse?”

He fake gasped over the phone. “Wow that hurt. Okay but seriously, I spilled my drink all over my shirt. I have another set of clothes in the car. I need your help, please.”

“Where are you?” you asked, clearly annoyed but you had no other choice but to help him.

“Upstairs’ library.”

You ended the call in his face and sighed again. You swallowed the rest of your champagne and asked one of the guards who came with you to go get Bucky’s clothes. You managed to hide from the crowd and get to him in less than a few minutes.

And there he was, standing in the middle of the spacious library. Shirtless, hands in his pockets. And with his signature smirk on.

“That was quick.” He sounded amazed, “Can’t away from me for long, can you babe?” he tilted his head to the side and gave you one of his famous smirks.

You rolled your eyes at him and handed him the shirt and tie on a hanger. “Seriously, get dressed.” You wouldn’t lie, you did check him for a few seconds because sure he was an annoyance, but he had a body to die for. Abs, Adonis belt, a sinful trail of hair starting from his lower stomach all the way down to-

“Take your time. I’m not going anywhere, stare all you want.” He sounded cocky once he caught you checking him out. He leaned in closer, “I’m all yours.”

You sighed again, crossing your arms over your chest. “Oh please. I don’t have time for young, immature boys.” You gave him another one of your fake smiles and turned around to leave. But he stopped you again.

You turned back around to face him as he finished buttoning up his shirt. “What?” you sounded like you were done with him.

He didn’t say anything, he just lifted the tie up to your face and gave you another idiotic but somewhat adorable grin.

Of course, you should’ve known he couldn’t tie his own tie. You wouldn’t even be surprised if he didn’t know how to knot his own shoelaces. You grabbed the black tie and walked up to him, throwing it around his neck and stepped up closer to tie it into a perfect knot. He stared at you the whole time.

“You’re really pretty, you know that?” he pointed out, with a big smile on his pretty face.

You glared at him, then looked back down to focus on getting the knot right. And he spoke up again, “I said, you’re really pretty y-,”

You cut him off. “I heard you the first time. I’m seven years older than you, so quit it.” you clarified, thinking the age gap would be a turn off for him. But it was quite the contrary.

He smirked when he heard that you were older. “That’s hot.” He commented, and honestly you expected no less from him. You glared at him again and he casually wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close to him. So close that his lips almost touched yours.

You tried ignoring how your heart fluttered.

“I have a gun on me right now, I suggest you behave before I do something we both regret.” You spoke monotonously, as always and he just smirked.

“I get all tingly when you threaten me like that, babe.” He was incessant.

You abruptly tightened the tie way too much on purpose and his eyes widened for a second as he struggled to breathe for a moment. You pulled his face closer to yours by tugging on the tie. “Enough.” You whispered, looking him dead in the eyes and making it just a little uncomfortable for him to breathe.

You let go of him after a few seconds and walked away without another word said. And once again, he didn’t shut up when he should have. “You look even better when you’re walking away!” he called out after you and it took you all your willpower not to turn around and punch his perfect, chiseled face.

---

As you expected, Bucky didn’t give up trying to annoy you. Even days after the party, he wouldn’t stop following you around and annoying you at all times. But you had to put up with it, because you knew that the closer he is to you, the better you can watch over him. But oh God was he annoying.

He lazily walked over to the couch where you were sat at in the living room one afternoon. You were replying to some emails for work, and filling in Bucky’s dad at the same time. Of course, through text you made it seem like his son was perfect and well-behaved, when in reality… well, not so.

Bucky sighed dramatically, trying to get your attention but you purposely didn’t want to give him the satisfaction so you kept typing. He groaned and plopped down right next to you on the couch, and you didn’t have to turn your head to look at him to know that he was shirtless again, with that damn smirk on his pretty face.

“I’m bored.” He complained, whining like a child and he was sat so close to you that he was almost leaning on you. He casually placed his hand on your knee and you immediately slapped his hand away.

“Bucky, I’m working.” You said, using your ‘don’t disturb me’ voice. But he didn’t care. He never cared.

“But I’m bored.” He whined again, and took the liberty to just shut your laptop while you were clearly in the middle of some serious work. You didn’t want to waste energy on telling him off so you just closed your eyes, calmed yourself down and turned to face him finally.

He grinned like he won something. “Okay. What do you want?” you asked, keeping a polite face on so as not to give him one of your famous resting bitch faces.

He smirked. “You.” he answered with a wink and you rolled your eyes at him. And he quickly mumbled an apology that he didn’t mean and sat up straight. “Okay, let’s go out. I need to buy some stuff.”

You stared at him with a straight face, and sighed; agreeing. “Fine.” You stand up and walk towards your temporary bedroom.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I need to change.” You replied, without turning around.

He smirked to himself. “You don’t need to look extra pretty for me. I already like you quite a lot.” He didn’t get a reply this time, not even a glare. He just heard you sigh really loudly and slam the door of the bedroom shut really loudly. He chuckled to himself.

He waited for you at the stairs by the front door. And he had his sunglasses on so you didn’t see the way his eyes widened when he saw you step outside in another outfit; a bit more casual than your usual suits.

Black, long-sleeved turtle neck with a grey colored pleated tennis skirt. You looked… hot.

“Staring is rude.” You sasses once you noticed he was indeed eyeing you up and down.

He smirked as you walked past him and got down the stairs, making your way to the car which was waiting for the two of you.

“Didn’t take you to be a skirt kinda girl. You’re more like a sexy suits and guns kinda girl. I mean, I love it.” he took the liberty to comment on your style.

You stopped right before you got into the driver’s seat and faced him with another fake smile. “Yeah well, it’s practical. You can’t see the handgun in my thigh holster, can you?” you smirked and got into the car.

Bucky took a few seconds to process everything. As if your appearance and you being out of his league wasn’t torture enough, now he had the image of you with a thigh holster permanently in his brain. And oh was that doing things to him. He didn’t even know he liked older, badass women until now.

Now, he was crushing on you harder than he intended to.

He was just as audacious and flirty in the car as always. He said he wanted to shop so you took him to the chic and expensive part of the city; where the rich kids usually go to spend mommy and daddy’s money.

Sam and Peter were in the car as well. Because Bucky was unpredictable, and you could always use more security guards around him given he was an absolute man-child. And to annoy you even further, as you walked beside him from store to store, he held your hand in his.

You would always let go of his hand, but he’d reach out to grab it again tighter each time and at some point you gave up and let him hold your hand. Again, you couldn’t have him wander off on his own so the closer he was to you, the better. Sam and Peter followed you two, trying to blend in as much as possible.

Bucky kept carelessly buying everything that fit his aesthetic; shoes, watches, jackets and everything else he didn’t bother checking the price tags of. And while he was being a difficult client, trying on everything and making a mess, you just stood there on your phone – occasionally looking at him and rolling your eyes at how extra he was.

“Do you really need that many shoes and watches?” you complained, stepping out of yet another store and already making your way to the other one. You were getting tired, and you weren’t a women who quite like shopping in general, so Bucky was just too much.

“Hey, don’t judge. I have a rep to maintain, besides I…” Bucky kept talking as you entered the next very expensive looking boutique, your hand still in his but you zoned out completely as you caught the stare of another pair of familiar blue eyes right upon stepping into the building.

Steve.

You were somewhat surprised upon seeing him so unexpectedly. But then again, it wasn’t too surprising because he was a man with expensive taste as well. You lingered around Bucky while he looked around, but all your attention was on Steve – who stared at you. Or maybe he was staring at Bucky more.

Eventually, Bucky grabbed a ton of clothes and went on try them; leaving you behind. Sam and Peter were right outside in the car, but that meant that you were alone inside the spacious store and there was nowhere for you to go as Steve began walking towards you. For a second you debated stepping out and joining Sam and Peter in the car while you waited for Bucky, but it was too late, Steve was too close by the time you thought of it.

You panicked, but you had perfected the calm and composed face so you put that on as he got closer and closer. You knew there was no way you could avoid him now.

“Y/N, hey.” He greeted you with a smile.

You returned him a fake one. “Steve, hello.” You kept your voice steady and monotonous, not letting your irritation and uncomfortableness show.

He stepped closer like he was an old friend, invading your personal space like it was nothing. Then again, he never cared much about you. “How come you’re here? You don’t even like shopping.” He pointed out, surprising you with how he still remembered that little detail about you.

You maintained the fake smile on your face and crossed your arms over your chest out of habit. “Yeah well, people change Steve.”

He chuckled dryly. “Is it that boy you came with? Did he bring about that change?” he asked, clearly jealous and bitter – like he always was.

You smirked. “That’s none of your business.” You were still calm but you could see it in his eyes; his anger slowly building up.

He scoffed. “What, you’re dating young boys now? He looks too young for you, seriously Y/N.” Steve commented, rudely and stepped closer to you – forcing you to take a small step backwards. “You need a man to take care of you, remember that.” he whispered, reaching out to twirl a lock of your with his fingers.

You didn’t know what to say to him, but luckily you heard Bucky’s voice speak up behind Steve.

Bucky stepped out of the changing room with the piles of expensive jackets and sweaters he intended to buy and he stepped out with a grin, excited to see you roll your eyes at him. He enjoyed annoying you for some weird reasons. But his smiled morphed into a frown the moment he saw another man standing too close to you.

Bucky dumped all the clothes on the couch nearby and stared at the guy. Slightly long hair, facial hair, dressed in a sharp suit; the good looking bastard was talking to you, and Bucky didn’t like it. He approached the two of you, eavesdropping like it’s no one’s business.

“…You need a man to take care of you, remember that.” the guy said, while toying with a lock of your hair.

The audacity, Bucky thought to himself, I haven’t even touched her hair yet.

“She doesn’t need anybody. Now back the fuck away from my girl.” Bucky said out loud, not bothering about whether the workers heard or not. They probably did given they were most likely eavesdropping just like he was.

The guy turned around to face him. Bucky was ready to throw punches but the guy didn’t initiate anything so he kept his calm as well. But on the inside he was raging. He wondered why he was so bothered by some other man talking to you. Maybe, he liked you a lot more than he thought.

The guy scoffed and walked away without another word said, probably choosing not to make a scene. Once he left, Bucky looked at you with worry in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And surprisingly, unlike Steve’s proximity, you didn’t mind Bucky’s.

You nodded and refused to look him in the eyes. He understood and grabbed your hand and walked out of the building and into the car.

After an exchange of drivers, all of you made your way home. You were quiet, as always, focusing on the road. But Bucky was quiet as well, which was weird. You wanted to comment on it, but you decided not to. It wasn’t uncomfortable anyways.

A few minutes later, he spoke up.

“That was Rogers, wasn’t it? Dad’s business rival?” he asked, referring to Steve.

You nodded.

“Do you… Is he… how do you… I mean, he’s-,” Bucky struggled to find the right way to ask you about how you know Steve like that. So you cut off his rambling and answered the question he truly had.

“He’s my ex.” You said.

And then the silence was back for a few minutes. Sam and Peter pretended not to be in the car.

Bucky spoke up again, “May I ask why you broke up? It’s none of my-,”

You cut him off and answered again. You had nothing to hide, besides, Bucky sort of saved you back there. “He wanted me to quit my job, and stay at home and have his children. But I wanted to work and settle down later in life so… yeah.” you simplified it as much as you could for him.

He nodded slowly, before scoffing loudly. “Well what an ass! He doesn’t deserve you. Anyone worth being with you would be so fucking proud of what a badass woman you are. And how well you do your job and manage all of this all on your own. I mean, you’re beautiful as hell too and I-,”

You cut him off again, with a genuine smile and shaking your head at him. “Alright, alright enough buttering me up. What do you want?” you asked, smirking.

He gasped dramatically. “What? No, I meant what I said. You’re beautiful and amazing and badass.” He truly meant it. He hadn’t realized he admired you so much. He had never felt like this, so to lighten up the mood he added, “But since you’re asking, can I please go out with my friends tonight, alone?” as expected, he asked with an adorable face.

The kind you have problem saying no to. But you absolutely had to.

“No. Your dad strictly said no parties, no clubbing, no coming home drunk. You’re not in uni anymore, Bucky. When you’re dad gets back, you will join the business and someday, you’ll take over. You need to start acting responsible.” you repeated his dad’s words to him and he almost whined like the spoilt brat he is.

“But it’s not a party.” He argued. “I won’t get drunk.”

You turned to look at him briefly. “What is it then?”

“It’s a thing.” He replied. This man was seriously a 5 year old child.

“What thing?” you asked in your serious voice and he sulked.

“Just a thing.” He said, looking down at his lap. Just looking at him would tell you that he hadn’t heard ‘no’ a lot in his life.

“No. And stop sulking, you’re twenty five years old. Act like it.” you announced your final decision that he’s not allowed to leave the house alone. Definitely not for a party.

And you expected him to listen and not make things more difficult for you. But you should’ve known that Bucky wasn’t one to behave.

---

You woke up around 2 a.m. to countless messages, missed calls and emails. Your phone kept going off non-stop so you decided to check it. Some of the other members of the teams kept sending you screenshots of paparazzi pics of Bucky at some illegal car race taking place in the outskirts of the city.

And you were confused for a minute, because hours ago he said he was going to bed. You grabbed your phone tightly in your hand and jumped out of your bed, and ran upstairs. Your rapid footsteps on the stairs seemed to have caught Sam and Peter’s attention as well because they happened to be right behind you when you rushed into Bucky’s empty room.

He wasn’t here. He must’ve snuck out to go to a freaking car race!

“Why didn’t the alarm go off?” you turned to face the two guards and they looked at you sheepishly. Oh this was bad.

“He must’ve turned it off before leaving.” Peter answered, just as worried as you were. All of your jobs could be at stake here. But of course, the spoilt brat didn’t care about any of that.

“I don’t care what it takes but find him. And bring him home. I need to make a few calls and have these pictures taken down before his father finds out. Go, now!” you raised your voice a little and Sam and Peter rushed out of the room. And a few seconds later you heard two cars leaving the property.

Meanwhile, you were worried sick and angry and scared. You grabbed your phone and proceeded to disturb a lot of people who could help you take these pictures down before Mr. Barnes finds out.

You also made a mental note to have a talk with Bucky when he does eventually come back home. You would try not to lose your temper, but it seems like he needs to be given a lecture about all the things he’s not allowed to do. Disabling the alarm and sneaking out for example.

You promised you would keep your calm. And that you would talk to him without losing your temper. But the minute he walked into the house, at around 6 a.m., accompanied by Sam and Peter who somehow managed to find him at some beach and dragged him out of a party and now brought him home.

You saw the smirk on his clearly somewhat drunk face and your anger took over.

“Hi beautiful.” He said, smirking and then pointed to both guards, “You sent a search party, looks like you missed me.” He sassed.

And you couldn’t control yourself anymore. Your anger could be seen on your face as you marched towards him rapidly, and out of nowhere grabbed him by the collar threateningly. You were livid. And Sam and Peter chose to stay out of this one because oh boy, you weren’t one to mess with when you were angry.

“When the hell will you fucking learn, huh?” you yelled in his face.

He was still sobering up thanks to the coffee Sam got him but even he knew that he had messed up this time by the look on your face. He was surprised at how physical you were. Part of him knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but feel a rush either. He was torn between scared of what your anger will entail, but also being turned on a little.

“Where the fuck have you been? Your dad specifically asked for you not to go out on your own because he has not been seeing eye-to-eye with a lot of people lately! And there is a lot more people than you think out there who could be after you just to hurt you and mess with your dad!” you yelled and Bucky was surprised.

He didn’t know this. Neither did Sam and Peter or the rest of the guys. Mr. Barnes trusted you immensely, so he told you some of his dark secrets. This was one of them, which is why he was so strict regarding the rules Bucky had to follow now that he was back home. And this revelation shocked everyone in the room.

You tugged on his collar a little more, and his body jerked forward a little and he was surprised at how physically strong you were. But he still didn’t say a word. “Do you know how many phone calls I had to make to take those pictures down and make sure your dad doesn’t find out? But you don’t care, do you?”

Bucky felt a pang of guilt at your words.

“You don’t care about anyone else but you! You are a spoilt, selfish brat! I know you’re not used to it, but at least try, damn it! Try and care about your dad’s reputation, about our jobs which involves taking care of your ungrateful, stuck up ass!”

He had never felt so guilty before, nor had anyone ever dared to point out his mistakes so vividly like you did just now. And you weren’t wrong, Bucky never cared about the consequences of his actions. Let alone about how his reckless habits could affect someone else.

“Disabling the alarm and sneaking out, look I don’t know who the fuck you think you are Bucky, but you sure as hell aren’t a kid anymore! Fucking act like an adult!” you yelled again.

He hadn’t thought, before sneaking out, that if anything bad does happen; you might lose your job. Not just you, but all the guards and everyone else in your team. And now he was ashamed.

With one last tug, you let go of his collar and panted, trying to control your breathing and anger. You stepped away and pressed the top of the bridge of your nose; already feeling a headache forming due to all the stress. You ran a hand over your face, sighing in relief that he was home but also in annoyance at how childish and careless he could be.

“Now go shower, get some sleep and sober up.” You looked up into his ocean blue eyes which showed nothing but guilt and shame, as they should. “And for fuck’s sake, stop making my life a living hell.” You spat bitterly and turned around to walk away.

You still had a lot to do and take care of today, and this day began with a rough start and you didn’t even get a good night of sleep. And it was barely even 7 a.m. yet, to say you were cranky would be an understatement.

You had extra work to do today, given Bucky’s previous rebellious actions. Along with the usual work load you had, which made today extra hectic and your mood was off as well. Your team had dealt with the paparazzi situation wonderfully. Mr. Barnes didn’t know a thing. But that didn’t mean that you were on speaking terms with Bucky.

You saw him less than usual throughout the day. Once in the kitchen, where you were making coffee and he dropped by to try and talk to you but he saw the look on your face and turned back around without saying a word. Then another time when you were in the living room, and he walked by without saying a word. The tension between the two of you was real.

He felt so guilty that it seemed like it was eating him alive. Plus, he hated how your mood was shitty all because of him. He wanted to apologize, but couldn’t. He didn’t know how to, because he never had to. But he knew he should. Because he messed up big time, driven by his arrogance and recklessness.

He hated how you were mad at him. He realized that these past weeks, the highlights of his days has been getting your attention and watch you roll your eyes at him, and replying to his sarcasm with even more sarcasm. Now his day just seemed dry and empty, and he wanted so badly to make things right.

You weren’t exactly ecstatic after yelling at him like that either. Usually your days consisted of shaking your head at Bucky’s silly messages and replying to none of them, or trying so hard not to laugh at his terrible jokes, and allowing him to hold your hand in his whenever you were out. You wouldn’t lie, you did miss his harmless mischief.

But he had to be told off. He was getting way out of hand.

You turned in for the night earlier than usual, and right when you got out of the shower someone knocked on your bedroom door. Forgetting that you were in your bathrobe, you rushed to open the door thinking it might be one of the guards coming to tell you that Bucky had run off again.

But you were somewhat surprised when you found Bucky himself standing on the other side, scratching the back of his neck nervously. You didn’t say anything, you let him feel the awkward silence, and he deserved it. But then it got way too quiet so you spoke up.

“Don’t you own a shirt?” you asked, leaning against the door frame and eyeing his perfect body. He was shirtless again, what’s new.

Bucky tried so hard not to look at your cleavage, but he failed miserably. “I do. I just thought that if I look hot enough, you’d maybe forgive me quicker.” He voiced out his inner thoughts shamelessly.

You sighed. Guess he’ll never grow up, huh?

“Is this how you apologize after almost fucking up all of our lives and jeopardizing my job?” you asked, sarcastically in a monotonous tone for extra effect.

He sighed and looked down. Bad idea because now he got a good view of your legs peeking through the slit of the robe. He was once again, torn – debating between begging for your forgiveness or just say ‘fuck it’ and lean in for that kiss he’s been desperate for since he saw you.

He went with the latter.

Bucky barely gave you time to process anything as he gently pushed you inside the room, shut the door behind him, wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body closer to his as he placed his mouth on yours.

You were surprised, and you knew it was wrong, but you didn’t hate it. He kissed you feverishly, with ardor and passion and everything else he felt for you. He poured it all out through the kiss. Like he was coaxing you into forgiving him.

Bucky’s mouth moved perfectly with yours, his arms tightened their grip around your waist and your hands slid into his hair. You tugged on it gently as he started walking the two of you backwards, towards the bed.

He laid you down on the mattress and climbed on top of you, still not breaking the kiss. And you had to admit, he was a great kisser. He nibbled on your lower lip before pushing his tongue past your lips; gently stroking the top of your mouth while his hand slowly undid the knot at the front of your robe. Once it loosened enough, he reached out to grab your left breast; squeezing it and making you whine under him.

He smirked through the kiss. He had been waiting for this for way too long and now he finally had you. Bucky further unwrapped the robe from around your body and toyed with your breasts while he kissed you deeply. And when one of his hands started slowly making its way down your body and between your legs, that’s when you pulled away from the kiss and stared into his eyes; breathless from his kiss.

Bucky panicked. What if you pushed him off now? Or worse, what if he had angered you even more?

But instead, you smirked and pushed him down; flipping the two of you around so that now you straddled him. You settled comfortably around his waist, your robe barely covering your body but neither one of you cared. Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust.

You leaned down to gently brush your lips with his. His hands immediately rubbed up and down your sides lovingly. “You put me in a lot of trouble today, you know that?” you whispered, your lips brushing with his ever so gently with each word and his heart raced.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” he mumbled, reaching up to try and press his lips to yours, but you pulled away really quickly.

“Sorry doesn’t make it better.” you spoke sternly. “You’re still a spoilt brat.”

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist; your core pressing down on his crotch. “And what are you gonna do about it?” he sassed and tried to ignore how fast his heart was beating as you reached out to slowly traced his mouth with your finger.

He bit his lip as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs; so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. You smirked when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your almost naked body.

“You need to learn how to do as you’re told sometimes.” You trailed your fingertips back up his body, making him squirm just a little and you grabbed his jaw and forced him to look you in the eyes. “Understood? Or do you need to be taught?” your tone sounded a lot more stern that you intended.

Bucky was pleasantly surprised. He nodded rapidly, trying to hide his smirk as the look on your face let him know that he was in for a ride. “Think I need to be taught.” He whispered, looking into your eyes to find lust, and hunger – same as his.

You smiled at his answer. Of course he did. “Very well then.” And without another word said, you grabbed both his hands and pulled them away from your body and pinned both of his wrists above his head, down on the pillows. “Keep them there.” You ordered.

But as usual, he didn’t have the habit of listening so he moved his hands back on you, pulling you closer and caressing your skin. He just needed to touch you. But you were running out of patience. You grabbed both his hands and pinned them above his head again. “I said, keep them there.” You said slowly, in a strict voice.

He smirked at first, but upon seeing that you were reaching for the black tie on your bedside table, his smile faded but he felt all tingly and his body throbbed in anticipation.

You grabbed the tie you had carelessly thrown there a day or two ago and carefully tied his wrists together. The cool, silky fabric against his skin made his heart skip a beat. You then secured his wrists to the part metal part wooden headboard. Your breasts were right in his face as you did so but he didn’t mind it.

Once done, you straightened your back to get a good look at him; beneath you, tied up and lips parted as he awaited what’s next. You smirked at how he gave you his famous puppy dog eyes. But no matter what, he wasn’t getting out of this so easily this time.

Oh no, you were planning on messing with him and toying with him until he can’t physically take it. And that’s exactly what you did.

You took off his sweatpants, and underwear then finally your robe. And as you did, his cock erected even more; standing proud and tall. Bucky’s face was flushed, and you could tell he was flustered and hot and bothered already – and you had barely touched him yet.

“Think you can always have your way, don’t you?” your voice barely above a whisper as you settle on his right thigh. You bit your lip the minute you felt his warm, smooth skin press against your wet core. You rolled your hips gently against his thigh and you felt the familiar tingle dance down your spine.

Bucky watched you ride his thigh slowly; lips parted, his cock beginning to throb and leak. He knew then that this was going to be a long, hard night for him.

You pressed both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him right where he needed you as you worked to get yourself off by humping his thigh. You were leaving behind a damp patch on his skin and he bit his lip as he watched you; breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you made yourself cum.

He watched how your soft moans got louder and how you humped his thigh faster, getting higher… and higher… you tilted your head back, purposely putting up a show just for him. He groaned when you whined wantonly, and he gently lifted his thigh – pressing further into your clit. He felt your wetness smearing all over his skin and he hopelessly wanted a taste.

Bucky’s cock was leaking embarrassingly by the time you came undone above him, leaving him still hard and throbbing.

“Please…” he murmured as he watched you come down from your high. He was desperate, and hungry and he just wanted you wrapped around him. He needed to feel you, and your warmth.

You smirked as you slowed down and finally came to a stop, still straddling his thigh. “Please..” you mocked him, chuckling. “You’ve always had things handed to you on a platter. You’ve never known patience, or how to ask nicely, have you?” you smirked again, leaning in to trace his lips with your tongue. “Well you will today.”

You gave him a brief kiss before finally wrapping your hand around his cock. He almost whimpered as he closed his eyes and relished your touch. He felt thick and hard, and big. You lazily stroked his length, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you kissed your way down his neck. You kissed his skin feverishly; leaving your marks behind as you bit and sucked on Bucky’s skin around the base of his throat; making him shudder in pleasure and moan sinfully.

You pulled away after a while to look at him. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and with his lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth; completely under your mercy. You smirked at how pre cum started dripping down his cock, and you knew that he was getting more and more desperate by how he kept murmuring please…please…please.

“Come on now, ask nicely.” You teased, knowing damn well you wouldn’t let him cum so easily.

Bucky groaned and opened his eyes to look at you. His eyes were darker, his gaze more intense and he tried to thrust his cock into your hand but then gave up because each time he did, you would just let go of his length. So he just let you toy with him however you liked, he took whatever you gave him.

“Please… please make me cum.” He whispered, voice strained and weak.

You chuckled as you felt him twitch in your grasp. “No.” you simply said and released him, leaving him right on the edge. He was still hard and throbbing and desperate. You leaned down to kiss him on his hip bones, gently kisses on each side and you heard him groan and squirm.

You smirked and kissed your way up his body. Eventually making your way up his body so you were straddling his face. Your hips wrapped around his head as he looked up at you. None of you minded the intimate position, he was just happy to finally touch you again. Bucky looked up at you with hunger in his eyes. And you smirked as you lowered your wet core to his mouth.

Bucky wasted no time, his mouth latched onto your clit and his tongue took in whatever you gave him. He worked his mouth at your entrance like his life depended on it. Sucking and licking and shoving his tongue past your wet folds, he ate you out like there’s no tomorrow, occasionally moving his head side to side.

You moaned out loud, throwing your head back as one of your hands held the head board for support and the other tangled in Bucky’s hair. His tongue worked wonders against your sensitive clit, making you feel all tingly and warm as you dripped all over his mouth.

“You taste so good…” he murmured against your wet folds and you very gently rolled your hips against his face, smearing your arousal all over his lips and chin; he licked a hot, thick stripe from your entrance up to your clit, with his teeth grazing it until he had you moaning loudly against him.

Your hips bucked against his face as he licked each and every drop of what you gave him. He closed his eyes and hummed loudly at your taste, making you whine and for a moment, you forgot that you weren’t supposed to be giving him the satisfaction. He was just that good and skilled with his tongue. Bucky adored the sounds you made above him. He even forgot that he was himself, throbbing with need. He was just hell bent on making you cum all over his tongue.

He had been fantasizing about this, about having your thighs wrapped around his head and to taste you and make you cum all over his tongue. And you soon realized that you were letting him have his way, so you pulled away quickly.

Bucky’s eyes shot open, “No please… I want more,” he complained, whining as you moved away from his face and kissed your way down his body again. And he was giving you the puppy dog eyes again. You almost gave in but you weren’t entirely done with him yet.

He whimpered as you slowly kissed your way down his body again; down his neck, across his bare chest and all the way to his thick, erected cock. Without any warning, you took him into your mouth, all of him. And he moaned out loud, mindlessly. You placed your mouth on his tip; your tongue slowly circling his tip.

You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on his perfect face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked handsome, completely at your mercy.

The gasps and moans which escaped his lips as he squirmed made you smirk. It only made you want to tease him even more, and keep him on the edge. His breathy moans, his soft gasps and the way he whimpered at your touch – it made you feel even more powerful than usual. He moaned and panted; murmuring your name over and over again, begging you to speed up already and make him cum. Bucky relished the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, perfect like he had dreamt of so often.

He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum. You slowed down, not wanting to grant him the satisfaction just yet. You took him out of your mouth; licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. Bucky moaned, his voice cracking; making him sound weak and desperate.

He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily. You chuckled as he tried thrusting his hips up, hoping that you would stop messing with him already. Your ability of bringing him right to the edge and mercilessly keeping him there for as long as you wished to was driving him insane.

Bucky lost all self-control the moment you sank down on him, your wet warmth wrapping all around him; making him swear under his breath and groan. You lean in and caress his face, looking him deep in his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. He was quite a sight; all muscular and strong, and handsome but tied to your bed at your mercy. You chuckled and leaned in to bite his lip, tugging on it as you pulled away, surely making him lose his mind.

You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and making him get louder and louder each time. Just when you felt him twitch inside you, you lifted your hips up and pulled him out of you and watched him whine and smirked at his helplessness.

“Come on, ask nicely.” You teased. “Beg.” You said more sternly, whispering against his mouth; lips hovering above his parted ones. You leaned in to kiss his open mouth carelessly. And in that moment, he was ready to do anything for you, to please you.

“Y/n… please...” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. But you heard it. His desperation was quite clear. And he was so sensitive, from all that teasing, that once you started riding him again; he began to thrust his hips up trying to match your movements. But you messed with him even then, you slowed down your pace whenever he got too excited, and you sped up when he least expected it.

At some point, he was nothing but a sweaty, moaning mess under you; messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. But you wanted more, you wanted to hear him whine some more, you wanted to hear how desperate he could get. You messed with him for as long as you could, and Bucky got loud, very loud; growling as you teased him, and whining your name whenever you kept him on the edge for too long. You alternated between having him in your mouth and riding his cock, and there was nothing else he could focus on in that moment.

Just you. Only you. He was yours; yours to toy with and tease, yours to use as you pleased.

You eventually gave in; seeing he was physically worn out. And you fucked his brains out, making him cum in no time. Your walls clenched around him; gripping him and milking him perfectly. He was completely at your mercy, begging you to slow down when you kept riding his sensitive, throbbing cock even after he came. His heart raced, he was breathing hard and fast after you were done with him. You kissed his chest, murmuring how good he was.

“Now, will you finally learn how to behave and do as you’re told?” you gripped his jaw gently, and looked deep into his eyes while you spoke. His hands were still tied, and sore and they were itching to just reach out and touch you.

Bucky nodded frantically. You smiled.

He stayed in your bed long after you two were done. He was clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree, shamelessly using your bare chest as a pillow. Your hand ran lazily into his hair and you smiled at how warm he felt. Sure, he was a tall and muscular man but he snuggled up to you like a child. You could feel his warm puffs of air hit your skin each steadily. You thought he was asleep but then he spoke up.

“Are you awake?” he asked, voice groggy and strained; deep.

“No.” you answered and waited for his reaction. And a few seconds later he lifted his head up to glare at you. You giggled at the face he made. After giving you a dirty glare, he got back to using your breasts as a pillow.

“Will you go out with me?” he spoke up again, asking you out.

“That’s not appropriate. I’m your dad’s employee.” you were starting to feel the day’s fatigue take over you slowly. You yawned right after speaking.

“Yeah? And what about what just happened? Is that appropriate?” he asked.

You sighed. “Go to sleep Bucky.” Truth is, you didn’t know what this was. But you wouldn’t lie, despite being annoying, it was hard not to love him.

He didn’t say anything. He pulled you closer and got on top of you, pinning you down on the bed this time. “Do you not like me?” he asked.

“I do! Get off, you’re heavy!” you giggled as he put all of his body weight on you.

“Then take responsibility for your actions. You stole my heart and now I’m in love with you.” he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone which made you laugh. “Look I’m hot and cute, it’s hard being both. I am smart,” he was listing and as soon as he said smart, you raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly. “I have a university degree to prove it, okay?” he resumed listing his qualities. “I’ll keep you away from crazy exes, and I will get you a puppy if you w-,”

You cut him off with a kiss. He sure was adorable. “Okay, okay stop.” You mumbled against his lips. “Your dad’s gonna kill me if we date.” You groaned thinking about what would happen if Mr. Barnes finds out.

Bucky kissed you deeply, then pulled away to look at you. “No he won’t. Dad likes you. Even if he tries to, I’ll protect you. I’m very strong as you can see.” He mumbled, pushing his face into the crook of your neck and making you giggle given you were ticklish.

“A big baby is what you are.” You corrected him. He chuckled.

“Please just give me a chance. I really, really like you.” he said, sincerely.

You gave it a thought. You liked him too. “Okay.” You said. He pulled away and smiled down at you. “I like you too.” You spoke again and Bucky leaned in to kiss you again.

Little did you know that giving him a chance would end up being the best decision you ever made…

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut

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yurimother · 4 years

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LGBTQ Manga Review – Syrup: A Yuri Anthology Vol. 1

Shakaijin Yuri, stories featuring love between adult women who have left school, is a well-established corner in the Japanese Yuri market. Over the past few months, the scene started to pick up its full force in the West. English audiences are experiencing new Shakaijin series, both contemporary like Still Sick and older such as The Conditions of Paradise. For me, there are few works so prolific and intrinsic to the Shakaijin boom as Syrup. In Japanese, the subtitle reads Shakaijin Yuri Anthology. While the English release drops the subgenre's label, the content remains the same, an anthology dedicated to nothing but Yuri love stories featuring adult women from some of the Yuri industries best. However, Syrup's focus on mature and workplace stories more than piqued my interest. However, readers will likely be disappointed with this inconsistent and often forgettable anthology that is just as sour as sweet.

One of Syrup's main draws is its contributors. Some of the best in the Yuri world touched this manga, and even Western Yurijin will likely recognize a few of the names like Yukiko (Futaribeya), Itou Hachi (Kindred Spirits on the Roof), and of course Morinaga Milk (Girl Friends). It is always exciting to read a story from one of your favorites. Even I, who cares rather little for authorship, was happy to see Ohi Pikachi, who wrote the incredible Our Teachers are Dating, among the list. It also provides readers with a chance to familiarize themselves with unfamiliar creators like Amano Shuninta and Kurogane Ken, who grace the anthology with some of its best chapters.

Another benefit of having such a variety of contributors is the plethora of different art styles in the anthology. There is such a stark yet fun contrast between more mature or sensuous styles like Matsuzaki Natsumi and Ito Hachi's bubble moe characters. The manga spans almost every point between these two styles, and just flipping through the pages to look at the artwork can be a fun experience. Of course, some are more polished than others. Mochi_Au_Lait's simplistic and flat style stands as an unfortunate outlier among some other fabulous artists. However, their story, "The Cram School Teachers," is one of the funniest in the anthology. Not every story's aesthetics will suit all readers, but that is the point of a collection, to sample a wide array of talents. Fly's beautiful cover illustration wraps the fantastic art within, standing as a crown jewel of Yuri manga covers.

Unfortunately, the plot and characters are not nearly as enjoyable as the art. While a mixture of aesthetics can add to a work, different story styles often feel inconsistent. For this reason, I usually prefer collections of a single author's short stories, like Rouge Nagashiro's Eve and Eve and Morishima Akiko's The Conditions of Paradise. However, a unifying theme can often correct this issue. Sadly, a few too many of the stories seem to revel in the more "adult" allowances of adult characters and ironically created some of the most immature entries in the anthology.

Before diving too deep into the weeds of mediocrity, there are some chapters in Syrup worthy of highlight. Two of the best chapters, Shioya Teruko's "Promise" and Kurogane Kenn's "Rose Quartz" feature women in established relationships taking the next step in their relationship. Reading about these women celebrate their feelings for each other is wholesome, charming, and even sensual. The latter of the two stories is also one of the few to use adult content in a way that feels more mature. It clarifies the characters' love and attraction for each other, rather than just flashing a panel of exposed breasts for fanservice. It is great to see artists use their allowance to show a little more in profound ways while not letting it run away from them. It demonstrates admirable restraint and thoughtful writing that respects its characters.

Other interesting chapters include "Mama X Mom," which is less about the sexual relationship between two women and focuses on the character's emotional bonds in a unique situation. Ito Hachi's "First Grown-Up Love" perhaps lives up to the Syrup title the most, as it is an adorably sweet and fluffy tale of first love at adulthood. As one of the longer stories, it also has a bit more time for subtly and, thus, it includes some of the stronger and more interesting characters.

Sadly, most of the stories in Syrup are incredibly mediocre. Telling a compelling narrative with interesting characters in such a brief form, in some cases as short as six pages, is a daunting task that most chapters fail to overcome. They are utterly dull and forgetful, with characters designed with little more than maybe a job and the fact that they are interested in a woman in mind. They leave little impression, and even in the moment of reading, one finds themselves tired and wishing for the passage to end. A few tales show some modicum of potential, like Kodama Naoko's "Daily Smile," but they often end before they can get going.

A few dull chapters are acceptable, as tastes will vary, and many will enjoy some of the stories that left me utterly unenthused. However, where Syrup struggles are in its weak chapters. Some, like Yoshimura Kana's "Coward Queen," a confusing and offputting depiction of two women making a pornographic movie, and Matsuzaki Natsumi's "My Femme Fatale" revel far too much in displaying as much nudity as they can get away with before being labeled as porn. The former of these portray a lust for sadism that clashes with the rest of the primarily mundane anthology. It might even spoiler the next several chapters, as it is one of the first stories and leaves readers with immense displeasure.

There are some questionable attitudes towards boundaries and crossing lines, even outside the more salacious and exploitative stories. Depictions or descriptions of actions like staring at a woman's underwear or breasts, or awkwardly splurting out "I'm a virgin," are tossed out casually, often portrayed as romantic. Now, this manga is a work of fiction and can be enjoyed even with some more questionable aspects, as they usually are not deal breakers here. However, the dated attitudes feel like something out of an '80s comedy, not in a manga that, in all else, appears to at least attempt to hold an air of realism. This pervasive element at best makes an already struggling story worse, but it can add unpleasant notes to otherwise delightful offerings.

There is no better example of potentially compelling work squandered by its unsavory elements than Morinaga Milks "Working with an Angel." It starts pretty well, introducing readers to an entertainment agency manager with a forbidden otaku friendship with a model. However, instead of taking a more intelligent or realistic approach of the two trying to keep their growing relationship secret or a heroic, "consequences be damned," declaration of love, the story turns sleazy. The model wants to show her naked body off to the manager as the latter admits that she spies on the models while they change. Off-putting is the most generous review of this final chapter.

While Syrup: A Yuri Anthology has a few bright offerings of sweet and compelling relationship between adult women, it is incredibly bogged down by forgettable and mediocre stories. Few stories can present more than a weak premise and characters best described as "female" within their short page count. More objectionable, with a few notable exceptions, Syrup muddles its attempts to show how grown-up Yuri can by mistaking boobs and fanservice for maturity. Yes, Shakaijin stories, tales of adult women can be sexy. In fact, they should be more than willing to describe inelegance and lust; after all, for many people, that is what love is. Still, too often, Syrup forgets the heart, affection, and emotion, substituting them for cheap, uninspired story beats and characters. There are some chapters worth readers' time, but unless you are a hardcore fan of a contributor, this is an easy skip

It is challenging to award ratings for Syrup, as each story's merits vary. Some are a comfortable 8 or 9 and others a measly 2 or 3. However, the majority of the book was unobjectionable yet poorly constructed fluff, as respected in the scores below.

Ratings: Story – 5 Characters – 3 Art – 8 LGBTQ – 6 Sexual Content – 8 Final – 5

Review copy provided by Seven Seas Entertainment

Purchase Syrup: A Yuri Anthology Vol. 1 digitally in print: https://amzn.to/39ObT5F

Legally purchasing manga helps support creators and publishers. YuriMother makes a small commission from sales at no additional cost to the consumer.

#yuri #manga #reviews #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtq+#queer #gay #romance #art #lesbian #lesbians #wlw #girls love #gl #syrup #sweet #comics #anthology #collection #literature #books #anime

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little-boats-on-a-lake · 3 years

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Part Six

“It looks so warm outside. Can’t I just ‘heal’ out there?” It had been a while since she had needed help walking. Her foot was almost completely healed, thanks to the healing powers of magic. She may not have understood it, but it helped her and that was all she needed to know.

“You have hypothermia, Sunny. I don’t want to risk it.” Not-Maurus pulled on his boots and laced them tightly. He still refused to tell her his actual name, mainly because of how much she wanted to know, so she settled for calling him without a name. He was so lucky he could just go outside like that. She was getting intense cabin fever—she had never gone this long without being active and it was driving her insane.

“Had. I had hypothermia. I feel perfectly fine now.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Please?” She looked up at him with pleading eyes. “Please?” As she had learned over the past however long she had been here, it was almost impossible for him to say no to her if she used the most pitiful look she could muster. For some reason, it didn’t work for his name, but it seemed to work for almost everything else.

“Nooo… Don’t look at me like that...” Aha. Right at his weak spot.

“Please?” He let out a strangled groan. He clearly didn’t want to, but what did she care about that?

“Fine. But if anything happens to you, I’m dragging you right back here and telling you that I told you so.”

He relented. “But it’s only because I need to do some gardening anyway.”

“Gardening?”

“Well, I told you, didn’t I? I grow my own food. Come on now, up you get.” He slipped her boots on carefully and lifted her up. She draped her arm around his shoulder and they slowly limped to the back of the house.

“Oh, wow…” She gaped. Rows and rows of bright colors sprawled across a plane of grass that stretched on for what seemed like forever. Flowers spread across the green and she could spy animals resting inside different wooden structures spaced along the land. “Damn my stupid leg.”

“What? That… that’s the first thing you think of when you see this?”

“Well, yeah. If my leg was better, I could run all over this place! You even built in a running trail.”

“That’s just a design! I don’t want you running on pebbles!”

“You’re so old.”

“I am-! I am not old!

“You are very old.”

“Just… sit on the porch, Sunny.”

“Old!”

“Sit!”

She plopped down by the edge of the seats and pouted as she glared at… Not-Maurus. She really had to find a better name for him. He was currently having what seemed to be the time of his life pulling up smelly onions from the ground. Wait… he was actually having fun with it, wasn’t he? He was genuinely smiling. Not just a smirk or a sarcastic grin like she had seen before. He was smiling. It was a bit jarring to see him like this.

Oh, NO. He wasn’t allowed to be attractive! He wasn’t supposed to be! Snap out of it, Felicity! You aren’t allowed to like him! Technically, she was still in a relationship with Hedar. There was never any real love there, especially since he tried to kill her, but it would still be cheating. Felicity Lovelace was many things, but a cheater was not one of them. Admiring another person wasn’t really cheating though, was it? She could still hypothetically appreciate how aesthetically nice Not-Maurus was. How nice those broad shoulders and toned arms were…

“Sunny?” His face was suddenly in front of hers and oh gosh was he undeniably attractive.

“Huh?” Her face flushed with warmth as she stared at his eyes. They were very blue up close. They looked like the ocean, cool and comforting. By the Goddess, she loved the ocean. She loved standing in the sand and letting the water just sweep over her feet. The ocean was great. The thin scar under his eye only made the blue seem brighter. The scar she had given him…

“Sunstroke, of course you get sunstroke…” He murmured as his firm grip settled around her arms and swept her up. She had a vague feeling of being carried indoors and seated at the kitchen table.

“What are you doing?” He kept his arms firmly on her shoulders, spreading a magical chill through her body. It was a soothing type of cold sensation. Her head snapped out of its reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Apparently, you can’t be in the cold or the hot weather.” He pushed a glass of cold water towards her, keeping his eyes in a red book.

“Yes, I can.” She pursed her lips petulantly.

“No, you can’t. You got sunstroke from sitting outside.”

“I did not…” she began, but he wasn’t done talking.

“It was probably my fault, letting you be outside with all that heavy clothing. Especially when it’s so hot. Why didn’t you say anything earlier when it got too hot for you? We could have gone inside ages ago.”

“You’re rambling.” She observed. He tended to do that a lot. It was almost endearing.

“I do not ramble.” He stopped talking, quite clearly rambling.

“I do not have sunstroke.” She retorted.

“You’re incredibly warm, your skin is flushed, you could barely speak before I brought you inside and your heart rate was through the roof.” He looked her squarely in the eye, raising his eyebrow. It sounded more like an infatuation than heatstroke to her.

“Must be sunstroke.”

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Text

Sorry Not Sorry

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Warnings: none - Pete is 20ish. There be smut, though. Summary:

Peter Parker runs a really popular Iron Man fan account on Twitter. One fine day, he accidentally posts a photo meant for that fan account on his official Spider-Man Twitter, instead.

Read it at AO3 here.

Getting home from class, Peter pulled his laptop out – a saucy smile on his face. MJ, the absolute perfect wingman, sent him the first sneak leaked from Tony’s latest Iron Man photoshoot with TIME Magazine during the last ten minutes of his Biophysics lecture and it took everything in him not to ditch the rest of his professor’s oh so exciting set of PowerPoint slides to rub one out in the bathroom. Swinging home with a hard-on tucked into his pants wasn’t exactly the definition of a good time. Dr. Simms had the greatest timing, though – the mention of a quiz during the next class saving Peter from having to embarrassingly excuse himself. Tucking his phone back into the pocket of his jeans, Pete forced himself to focus and get through the rest of class. He only needed to make it five more minutes – then he could swing as fast as momentum could carry him back to his small studio apartment where privacy was the name of the game.

His skin already felt flushed from the brief glance he allowed himself before pocketing his phone. The few minutes it took him to stealthily get to the roof, get his mask on, and web home from NYU’s notorious physics building felt like torture. More than once he mistimed his swings and had to accommodate with a well-aimed strand against a lower building or lamppost. Settling on the ground a couple blocks from his building, Peter used the last few steps to collect himself – to get in the zone and pull his fanboy pants on once again. The ability to see Iron Man in the flesh was a thrill – Peter as Spider-Man earned the man’s respect long ago. Yet, there was nothing like the secret fantasies he’d been harboring over the last few years as Peter Parker himself, a simple 20-year-old with a good old-fashioned boner for the beautiful man behind the brilliance that was Ironman.

With the laptop sitting on his legs, Peter started his ritualistic perusal of all the emails and forums. Since he’d been running an Ironman fan account for years, he got pretty exclusive access to new material courtesy of the connections he’d made freaking the fuck out about all things Iron Man and Tony Stark. Like so many times, his inbox was filled with links to Tumblr posts already putting the images into eloquent image collections – each one he scrolled by showing that patented Tony Stark sexiness.

This particular shoot made Tony look raw – the use of black and white enhancing the man’s natural ruggedness that made him so damn irresistible. One in particular stood out in each set – his heart pounding hard when he finally decided to click on it. They were obviously in the lab – the place not only cool but insanely aesthetically pleasing and recognizable. Tony’s shirt was of a lighter material, the shadow behind him enhancing the glow from the arc reactor that could be seen through the shirt. Though the image didn’t have any color in it, Tony’s chest illuminated life – the pulse of the arc reactor something that was hard to ignore. The Iron Man helmet was tucked carelessly under his arm – a faraway expression on the older man’s face. Whoever the photographer was got so many bonus points for the a-plus framing – the whole image was absolutely stunning. Without much thought, Peter clicked the little hearts on each post, his fingers carelessly reblogging the sets he liked the best and saving the rest for later. What fucking right did Tony have being that goddamn stunning?

He managed to find a singular still of his favorite photo to save to his phone, the image immediately going into a Twitter post with a typical ‘I’d let him fuck me’ caption. Most of his followers weren’t on yet, so he saved the post for later – not noticing the fact that he didn’t change the profile he saved the draft to. He could already see the threads, the excitement and wet seats from the beauty of these photos, the comments and retweets that would keep his phone blowing up for hours. For some reason, the action on his I Heart Iron Man account was way more important than anything that happened on the official Spider-Man account. That one was heavily monitored by one Pepper Potts and he rarely got any creative freedom when it came to the things he was able to post for the world to see. He usually received an email with a photo attached and a pre-planned caption – one that was both politically correct and wholesome enough to keep his friendly neighborhood superhero persona alive and well. He understood the necessity – the current age of social media was like the jungle and a single mistake could take down an entire pride. Being attached to The Avengers came with a bit of added pressure – but he listened and did what he was told – Spider-man was a good boy.

Peter Parker on the other hand, well, he’d been cooped up behind the mask for too long – and stuck in a lab with the single hottest human on the planet, of course. Upon being discovered by the man a little after his eighteenth birthday, Peter and Tony fell into an easy camaraderie. The older man appreciated his brain and recklessness – though he’d never admit to the latter. Working together through his internship with Stark Industries got him a little closer to the actual man himself – and Peter liked everything about him. His brilliance felt tangible – Peter able to feel Tony’s thought process when they were pushed up against one of the lab tables together, the web fluid code spread out on the holoscreen in front of them.

When he got an idea about something, Tony couldn’t be stop, slowed down, or deterred from the course. Many times, Peter watched Tony go from a raw idea to a solved puzzle in the matter of a couple of facial expressions. It made Peter want to clap his hands in excitement and pull the man flush against him all in one breath. He didn’t take into account, when he started getting to spend time with both Tony and Iron Man, that the difference between the two would soon be hard to discriminate – and his attraction became twofold.

Since getting to know the man behind the mask, Peter thought about putting his Iron Man fan account to rest a few times. Tony Stark, who Peter knew considered him a friend, deserved a lot more than the ‘fuck me, Tony’ memes he’d been known to create in his spare time long before he knew anything other than a schoolboy fantasy. Twitter told him just the other day that his account celebrated its fifth birthday – an accomplishment in and of itself in this day and age. The couple times he came close to finally getting rid of it, he found himself scrolling through the many, many – way too many posts he’d made over the years – inevitability unable to pull the trigger and actually delete the account. He figured, since the images could still pull such a reaction out of himself and others like him, well – what could it possibly hurt?

In all his time as the moderator of the fan account, he never once gave himself away. Despite all of the people wanting to be friends and meet in person – Peter managed to keep his identity and the anonymity of the account secure. Mainly because the only personal opinion he ever let anyone see was the one that said, ‘I want Tony Stark to top me & I don’t care who knows it!’ At the end of the day, that singular idea seemed to be more than enough for most people scrolling through his content. There were so many things he juggled on a daily basis – he couldn’t imagine what being caught out worshipping the man he’d come to really know and appreciate would be like.

Over the past couple of years, Peter tried his best to gain the respect of all of The Avengers. Despite being eighteen and technically an adult when he joined them, each member looked at him like a kid, or their younger brother they needed to protect. Little by little, he felt the acceptance from most of the group – Steve and Bruce were surprisingly in his corner relatively fast. The one person he craved to be seen for the man he was couldn’t decide how he felt on the matter. Tony could be so carefree, especially when they were in the lab together or joking around after a particularly good patrol. Tony could also be very protective and turn on ‘dad-mode’ just as easy. A part of Peter wanted to believe the other man cared for him so much that his protective nature couldn’t be helped. Though, the man was Iron Man – he spent his life getting into situations to protect other people. Whatever the deal was, Peter didn’t really know where he (not Spider-Man, the heroes were too close knit after so many battles together) stood with Tony Stark – so pining from a distance would have to do.

All of the excitement of freaking out with all of his fellow Iron Man fans made it easy to neglect the time. Glad for once that he listened to his instinct and didn’t decided to rub one out in the NYU bathrooms, Peter took his time enjoying each and every one of the photographs. Most afternoons left a little bit of time between coming home from class and heading to SI – a time in which Peter usually did the little bit of homework he usually had. Today, his routine went out the window the second he got his laptop open and the images on the screen. It didn’t make sense – how much attention the photos were getting from him. As he clicked through each one, he felt more and more – arousal at first, then something… different.

For whatever reason, this spread decided to highlight the man in the mask without the mask on – like the world needed more gratuitous pictures of the gorgeous Tony Stark (okay, it did – it really fucking did.) The lack of a full connection to Iron Man in the photos made Peter really think about how much of Tony Stark actually went into the superhero. Spider-Man was Peter’s alter ego – the mask kept him safe and allowed him to face recklessness head-on without a second thought. The principles that guided Spider-Man very much belonged to Peter Parker – but the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was an entity of its own. The more Pete thought about the differences between Iron Man and Tony Stark – there weren’t many that didn’t have to do with the abilities of the suit. When the mask came off, Tony didn’t stop being Iron Man. It only took two years of getting to know the man to truly understand.

The haze of his realization and the fog of arousal that’d been collecting in the room slowly pulled Peter under – he let his left hand move away from the computer screen, his fingers skating across the fabric of his shirt until they settled on the button of his jeans. It didn’t take much to get the button undone, the zipper coming down easily a couple of seconds later. A soft sigh left his lips when the pressure he’d been staving off finally let up a little – his cock finally able to breath for the first time since leaving class. For a few minutes, he let himself continue to tease the tips of his fingers over the bulge that pressed so nicely against the front of his black Calvin Klein’s. Flipping through the photos a couple more times, Peter found a set of his favorite picture in a couple different tones – the heat he felt making him fist his cock, the material of his briefs already wet and humid. He let a soft moan leave his lips – the younger man finally letting his fingertips trail under the waistband, the skin-on-skin contact almost too good.

He clicked on the last of the photos in the set, Peter still hung up on the original – the black and white something he never knew he needed in a photo. The way Tony looked in it, Peter could almost imagine that same stare when he looked up and caught the older man looking his way. That thought sent a rush of heat to his middle – the precum pooling in his boxers starting to saturate the material, his cock literally dripping. He couldn’t resist wrapping his fingers around the head, the pad of his thumb smearing the liquid around.

It didn’t take long to imagine the look in Tony’s eyes actually being directed at him, the faraway look replaced with one of hunger and desire. Tony wouldn’t be shy about the way he wanted, either. Peter could only imagine how he’d pull his smaller body flush against his own – taking control of the situation without a second thought. He spent a lot of time thinking about how Tony would kiss, the man was so talented at everything – it would only make sense that Tony Stark was a world class kisser, too. When kissing became too much, he thought about the older man wiping all of the things off the desk behind them, picking Peter up, and having his wicked way with him on the flat surface. Oh, to feel the heavy press of Tony’s chest against his own.

The apex of the coiled heat in his stomach quickly approached – the Tony and Peter of his fantasy were sans clothes and happily rutting together on the table. The heavy drag of the older man’s cock would be overwhelming – each pass of the skin of it against Peter’s own trigger-happy dick bringing him closer and closer to the edge. A hitch in his breath brought Peter out of the fantasy, brown eyes watching as his own hand moved under the tent of his briefs. His skin felt like it was on fire, the heat inside him consuming every nerve ending before finally settling in the depths of his balls – the swell of it boiling over and bringing Peter along with it. He kept a slow rhythm going until the oversensitivity became too much. The spidey senses were a hell of a thing when it came to stimulation – many times overwhelming him from all angles. Coming down, Peter pulled his hand out of his pants, the stickiness making him chuckle. Only Peter would jerk off in the comfortability of his own home without getting out of his pants – at least he did his own laundry now.

It didn’t take long to get cleaned up, a quick wipe of his soiled briefs and a change of pants had him ready again in no time. Which ended up being a good thing – when he came out to check his phone, he noticed several text notifications and a missed call from Tony. His eyes bugged when he saw the time – he was hella late. So late, in fact, that he was surprised Iron Man himself wasn’t banging at his window. Sucking in a breath, Peter unlocked his phone to call Tony back, although, he didn’t get very far – Tony’s name popped up before he could get the app up. He swiped his thumb to answer the call, getting it before the first ring could finish.

“Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry. Time got away from me – I’m on my way, now,” Peter got out, the words immediately coming out of his mouth before Tony could get a word in edgewise. He inadvertently worried the man, the sheer amount of texts and calls showing that. The least he could do was be gracious and get his ass to work as fast as he possibly could. Pete heard Tony let out a sigh on the other end of the line – the older man obviously more relieved than mad. “Fuck, Pete – I got a little worried when you didn’t show up. I asked Friday to check in with Karen – but you weren’t wearing the suit, either. I don’t want to tell you how close I came to putting on my suit to come find you,” Tony tried to keep his tone light, though his words spoke louder than any feigned nonchalance could. “Glad you’re safe, kid,” Tony said, the words completely genuine. “I’m okay – sorry I worried you, Tony.” Peter smiled at his own words, then quickly disconnected the call with another promise to be there soon and get there safely.

Peter couldn’t keep the grin off his face when he thought about how well he actually knew Tony Stark. He knew the other wasn’t far from using the suit to make sure he was okay or find him if the case called for it. Though, the fact that he spent all that time fantasizing and getting off to the other man’s photos remained – so the joy of the feeling wasn’t… entirely pure. Shaking his head, Peter got himself into gear – his feet carrying him around the room at a record pace. The walk to the roof was quick, his energy renewed now that he’d handled the burn eating him up since Biophysics earlier and he was about to spend the next however many hours elbows deep in nanotech goodness with a person that was quickly becoming his favorite. Before pulling the mask on, Peter pulled his phone out and shot Tony a text.

Peter Parker [6:30PM]: Swinging your way. Peter Parker [6:30PM]: See you soon, Tony.

He smiled at the use of Mr. Stark’s name and let the joy from before settle in again – he felt good and intended to enjoy it. Clearing out his programs, Peter noticed he left the post from before sitting in his drafts. That wouldn’t do – especially since the world deserved to see the sexiness that was Tony Stark as Iron Man. And the world expected I Heart Iron Man to comment on something this monumental. He absentmindedly pulled the draft up and posted it – the younger man not bothering to make sure he posted to the right account. Pulling on his mask, Peter grinned to himself and started to run, his feet carrying him at a high speed off the edge of the roof and into a flawless swing – that was always the best part.

----

It felt invigorating, flowing from web to web throughout the gorgeous backdrop that was New York City. Before being discovered by Tony and later invited to join The Avengers, Pete spent many nights simply enjoying the fact that he could see the city from this perspective. Between battling muggers and making sure innocent people remained safe – Peter’s work was cut out for him, and the simple moments were really what made it worth it. He didn’t speed through his city swing the same way he did earlier that day, that burning desire simmering in the pit of his stomach right now, the need not burning hot and pulsing like earlier. Eventually, Peter landed on the landing port on top of Stark’s building – a soft sigh leaving his lips when his feet settled against the hard surface of the flattop. It took him a second to get his equilibrium back, the boy slightly dizzy for a few moments after stopping the gravity defying movements. He took his mask off then, now steady feet carrying him to the door of the elevator – the penthouse a couple seconds ride away.

Before he could get his hand on the button, Friday’s voice came out of nowhere. “Peter, you might want to move a little quicker. Something happened,” Friday said, the words making Pete’s heart beat a little faster. It didn’t take him that long to get from lower Queens to Stark Tower – he made the swing every day and almost always got it done in a few minutes. There hadn’t been anything noticeable in the sky and he didn’t see any alien technology trying to infiltrate their atmosphere. His eyebrows furrowed as he got into the elevator, the door obviously being opened by Friday - the AI smarter than her own good sometimes. “What’s up, Friday? I didn’t see anything when I was out over the city – I know I would’ve at least noticed trouble.” Peter spoke with curiosity in his voice, the idea of missing something big driving hm a little crazy. “For once, the country is safe, Peter. Have you looked at your phone lately? It seems like something got out that shouldn’t have,” Friday’s voice was matter-fact, but Peter knew if she could, a chuckle would’ve accompanied those words.

Without another thought, Peter pulled his phone from the pocket of his backpack he kept it in when he was otherwise occupied doing Spider-Man things. Clicking the button on the side, his eyes bulged when he saw the massive amount of notifications blowing up his phone. He didn’t understand what happened right away – his eyes catching all the likes and retweets of his latest tweet – but then, holy shit – the tweet being retweeted came from his Spider-Man account and not the fan account. “Holy shit. Friday, how many people have seen this? And Mr. Stark – did he –?” Peter felt like the elevator was closing in him – the ride taking way longer than it normally did. “Mr. Stark gets an alert when any of The Avengers send out a tweet,” Friday answered him truthfully. Peter already knew that – he’d given the older man shit about how close of an eye he kept on them all more than once over their time together. Sometimes jokingly, and sometimes with a malice that only a 20-year-old can bring. The elevator finally settled and for once in his entire life – Peter wasn’t ready for whatever waited for him on the other side of the sliding doors.

Not being prepared was an understatement. There were three bodies waiting for him the second he got off the elevator; Pepper, who looked absolutely appalled, Steve, who had the slightest bit of laughter in his eyes, despite the seriousness of his face – and Tony, who’s expression was the most unreadable. His gut clenched tightly when he took a step closer, all eyes on him. “I can explain – “ Peter started, but his words were immediately cut off. “Peter, this is the dumbest thing you could have done! I knew I shouldn’t have given you access to the official Twitter.” Pepper’s words cut, each one swiping salt into a wound that was slowly opening, the blood seeping from the gash little by little. “You need to delete it – now!” Her eyes flashed at that, the seriousness of the situation not really hitting him until that very moment. The tone of her voice was like Aunt May after he came home with a black eye, though the underlying worry did not exist in this lecture.

Peter didn’t hesitate – the phone was still gripped tightly in his fist from the initial humiliation that hit him in the elevator. Nimble fingers worked over the screen until Twitter was up and the tweet was gone – though millions of people already saw it if the traffic on it was anything to go by. Slamming his eyes shut before looking up at the people in front of him, Peter felt a wash of shame slip over him – how in the world did he look Tony Stark in the eyes now that he’d carelessly revealed himself to the other man. And the way he did it – the comment on that photo did not do his true feelings justice. What a fucking idiot, Peter thought – his hands clenching into fists once his phone was deposited back into his pocket. “I’m so fucking sorry,” Peter finally managed to get out, his head titling up until he could look at them. He avoided Tony’s eyes, though – the embarrassment too real and in his face at the moment.

“We’ll discuss this at a later date. Until then, please don’t post on Twitter at all. I need to go and do some damage control,” Pepper spoke with finality, the arms crossed over her chest relaxing as she started to walk away. “If you’ll excuse me, fellas.” Her heel clicks sounded louder than they’d ever been, each one reverberating around the penthouse – the feeling she left behind like final nails in a coffin. His cheeks still flaming, Peter looked over to Cap – the older man’s arms crossed much like Pepper’s, though the amusement in his eyes hadn’t left. In fact, Steve looked like he wanted to laugh in Peter’s face – the immensity of the situation not lost on the hero. “I don’t even know why I’m here, honestly. I think I wanted to see your face in person. We’ll meet as a group about this some other time – talk about how this might affect the dynamic of the collective,” Steve said, his words sure, the tempo and tone of his voice very much like normal. “Until then, I’ll leave you two be.” The blonde threw a look in Tony’s direction, then followed Pepper’s steps out – a hand landing on Peter’s shoulder for a quick second when the older man passed.

All at once, Peter found himself alone with Tony – the other man’s face still unreadable. Peter didn’t know what to say, the younger man hoping for once that Tony flew off the handle and lectured him. Anything was better than the expression on the older man’s face. “Tony, I – “ Peter still didn’t know what to say, his heart was beating so fast and the entire situation was stupidly overwhelming. He almost wished he could turn and run away, follow Steve’s footsteps and retreat into the elevator – the call of his studio apartment was much louder than normal. Instead of standing there, Peter moved a little farther into the apartment. His feet knew the path so well now – he’d spent more than enough time exploring the marble floored hallways, the rooms with their huge beds and even bigger screens on the wall, the lab and all of its techie glory. Over the past couple of years, this place became home. Hopefully his dumb ass libido didn’t lose that for him – he didn’t really know what he’d do with himself if he suddenly lost The Avengers, Tony, and the place he felt the most comfortable in one fell swoop.

His hands skimmed across the leather of the couch he sat in just the day before – the sounds of The Walking Dead playing in his ears at the memory. After getting done in the lab for the night, Tony nodded towards the couch – the older man obviously not ready for their time to end yet. In the recent weeks, Peter noticed their time in the lab always ended outside of the lab – whether they ate takeout and watched tv or played chess on the really cool black and white checkered board, there was always a bit of time spent outside of the lab. Last night, Tony puttered around the kitchen while Peter got settled on the couch – his brief conversation with Friday getting the series pulled up and their current episode onto the screen. A comfortable silence fell over them when Tony brought plates of fresh eggs and bacon over – both men always ravenous after their time in the lab. That time was so easy and now seemed like a lifetime ago. What good could possibly come from this? Peter hadn’t really thought about what would happen if Mr. Stark found out about the crazy obsession he let play out through a twitter feed.

Though the word obsession seemed a little heavy. When he first started following Iron Man, it was with rapt attention and idolization. He could still remember the first time he saw the hero on TV – the way his heart kind of beat in a way he’d never experienced before, and his palms got a little sweaty. He liked what the name Ironman represented. Then, well – a sexual awakening came not long after that and Iron Man seemed to be the fuel to that fire. For a couple of years, Peter felt himself falling for the illusion of what Iron Man represented. When he actually met the man, the hunger for Iron Man didn’t relinquish, not really – instead, it was replaced with what could only now be called actual feelings. Getting to know Tony made it impossible for him to not be totally in love with everything about him. The fact that he was Ironman only enhancing the deal that much more. He could have easily copped to an obsession a few years ago, but now – well, his keen eye noticed the attraction and the something else that came with it. Whether his friend decided to see it that way or not, Peter didn’t really know.

Footsteps coming closer to him brought Pete out of his memories, the firmness and cool feel of the couch still under his fingertips grounding him, keeping him in the moment now that he could see Tony in front of him. The older man stopped with a couple of feet between them, eyebrows slightly furrowed. “So, I guess we should talk, huh?” Tony asked, sarcasm in his voice evident – though the tone contained no malice, which was both interesting and insanely comforting all at once.

Peter watched as Tony walked around to the front of the couch and took a seat, his scar-specked hand patting the seat beside him until the younger man got the hint and joined him there. The couch was comfortable but, in that moment, Peter couldn’t find a place on the seat that felt right. Maybe that was the feeling of wanting to crawl out of his skin and run away – or maybe it was the guilt that sat steadily on his chest, pinning him uncomfortably to whatever spot he settled on. When he finally forced himself to stop wiggling, he noticed the miles of space between them. Just last night they sat shoulder to shoulder – the feeling something Peter didn’t realize he needed until right then.

His chest felt tight when he pulled in his next few breaths, nervousness running through him. In all 20 of his years, Peter couldn’t ever remember feeling this way. Apprehension, tension, embarrassment – and the worst of all, dread – crawled all over him like the spider that bit him to give him the powers he now wielded so expertly. “Tony, I really am sorry. I never – uh, I never meant for you to even… find out,” Peter started, the younger man not able to exist in the silence that settled between them any longer. Tony turned slightly, his left hip and side pressing against the couch so he could see Peter a little better. He seemed to be paying attention but made no move to contribute to the conversation. His eyes were cloudy, and his expression still sat neutral – the man a pro at poker faces and composure.

“This is pretty embarrassing, but I’ve obviously had a thing for you for a long time. More so now than ever before – and it’s different – but its been there and I’m just really fucking sorry.” Peter felt a little desperate with the last couple of words coming out of his mouth. The weight of how Tony reacted next pressed on him – each pound tangible in the tightness in his chest. Until that moment, they hadn’t made any direct eye contact – Peter avoiding it like the plague. Yet, for some insane reason, he felt a little better when their eyes finally did lock. Tony’s posture relaxed even further, a hand coming up to scratch at the salt and pepper hairs on the tip of his chin – the gesture one Peter knew to be a nervous tick Tony probably didn’t know he partook in. “I can’t say this was the best way for anything like this to come out. Pete – Friday managed to find the account you were trying to post to.” Peter sucked in a gasp, his face coloring to personify the flames that swooped over and engulfed him. How fucking great.

Tony wasn’t finished it seemed, the older man grabbing his own phone – thrusting it into Peter’s hands. Pete didn’t need to look down to see what was on the screen. He remembered each of the first five posts that were visible and hoped the world would swallow him whole. What a way to come out not only to the world, but to the object of his desire, too. “At least you have good taste,” Tony mumbled, the phone settling on the couch between them – the screen still bright, the most recent meme staring back at them both.

Peter still didn’t know what to say – what the hell could he say in a situation like this? Sorry spilled from his lips more times than he cared to think about. Aside from the humiliation, Peter felt a little curious about the calmness of Tony’s reaction. The older man had every right to be fuming – and in any other situation, he probably would have. Tony didn’t balk at opportunities to make his opinion known or tell someone else the way it truly was. The silence was broken when Tony spoke again – “Is the stuff you said true? Is that what you want from me? A little romp in the sheets with your fantasy?” The question was unexpected and totally knocked Peter off balance. It almost seemed like Tony was teasing him, but the sincerity of the question remained – Tony wanted to know.

“Yes – but also no. Iron Man was the dream. The thought that guided me through being a teenager and figuring out without much warning that girls were not on the menu. It felt good to experience excitement with other people about someone I – y’know, wanted. Then I met you and the way we seem to click changed things. The time we spend together in the lab is amazing – you’re the smartest person that I’ll get to work beside. Don’t tell Dr. Banner, though. You talk all this talk and act like you don’t care – but I know that’s total bull shit. You’re a good guy, Tony – no matter how much you don’t want that to be the case. I guess the fantasy turned into something else. I want that, you – but not just that. Iron Man doesn’t come without Tony Stark for me anymore – not when Tony Stark is the best part of the package.” Peter didn’t let himself stop until all the words were out of his mouth – if this was it, he at least needed to walk away having put everything out on the table between them. Considering he didn’t have any intention of Tony ever finding out, his expectations were not high – but a boy could dream.

The hand on his shoulder tightened and Peter looked up to see Tony staring at him – that same faraway look in his eyes like in the picture that got him in so much trouble to begin with. Pete could tell he was thinking, letting all of those words and what they meant process in the recesses of that big brain of his. Then, the hand moved to his cheek, the calloused fingers firm in their pressure against his skin. “You couldn’t just tell me? I know for a fact that a conversation like this could’ve saved a lot of people a lot of headache,” Tony’s voice was filled with humor, the words sounding different to Pete now that he could feel the heat of the other’s skin against his own. Tony shifted until they were close – the hand on his cheek sliding until it cupped the back of his neck. “Next time, just lay one on me or something, okay? No more of that crazy shit – if you’re posting pictures of me, it better be because you took it or we’re both in it.” Tony used the fingers on Peter’s neck to tilt his head until the younger man was looking at him square in the eye. Peter’s breath caught in his throat – the seconds passing by them at a glacial place. “The real thing is much better, anyway,” Tony finished, his lips quirking into a smirk that Peter couldn’t recall ever seeing before.

The distance was easy to close after that. Peter wanted to wipe the smirk off Tony’s face and feel what it felt like against his lips all at once. The heat on his neck from Tony’s fingers was starting to radiate down his back – the tendrils moving until they settled deep into his core, this heat different, running a little hotter than what he felt earlier in the day. Tilting his head, Peter felt Tony adjust too until they were angled perfectly – their lips sealed together tightly. A tongue started to trace at the seam of Peter’s lips, the younger man granting it access immediately. In the time he spent fantasizing about one Tony Stark and all the kisses they’d shared in his mind, he never could have pegged this particular flavor or feeling. He could taste the smoke of the man’s favorite bourbon on the back of his tongue, Tony probably downing a couple glasses the second he got the notification just to soothe his nerves. The delicious flavor layered on top of the booze could only be the man himself – something that was simply Tony. His lips were soft and insistent, the facial hair above his lips exotic in the way it teased across the skin of Pete’s upper lip. Years of experience allowed Tony to explore his mouth seamlessly – and when they pulled back, the look of pure want on the other’s face was unmistakable.

Pete felt his chest heave, the lack of oxygen consuming for a moment while he stared at the man still pressed against him. His lips were tingling, the simple thought that Tony kissed him making his brain feel like putty. The reprieve didn’t last long, though – Tony pressed forward, this time with much less abandon and way more passion. The kiss stared hot and wet, both men passed the point of exploration. Peter felt Tony’s other hand start to drift down his chest until it settled on his hip, the other’s leverage being used to pull him even closer. Now that they were pressed flush against each other, Peter could really feel what was under the suit. His own hands moved restlessly, first taking in the skin of Tony’s cheeks, then down his shoulders and arms – the muscles there firm, not just from controlling the Ironman suit but also all the hours spent in the lab. The roughness of Tony’s fingertips against the skin of his neck spoke of a man that worked with his hands and so did the rest of him.

Peter copied Tony’s move and slipped his hand down the middle of the other’s chest – his palm stopping when he came into contact with the arc reactor. He kept his hand there, the warmth of the unit seeping into his palm – like he figured, it radiated life and energy, even if it wasn’t actually from the unit but the man himself. Pulling out of the kiss, Peter watched as he moved his fingers over the reactor through Tony’s shirt – the thickness of it stopping the glow from emanating, but Peter knew it was there, anyway. “It’s warm,” Peter murmured, his eyes slipping from the motion of his fingers up to catch Tony’s eyes – a hazy lust sat within them combining with something Peter didn’t recognize.

Tony stayed silent for a second, his puffing chest letting the reactor press more firmly into Pete’s hand with every inhale of breath. “Good, if it wasn’t – I wouldn’t be alive,” Tony said back in reply – the hand around Peter’s neck moving until he grasped the younger man’s wrist between his fingers. “It feels a little weird when it’s touched. Like, I can feel your fingers all over me, instead of just over the top of my shirt.” Tony pulled Peter’s hand to him, his lips pressing a kiss to each of the fingers and then his palm. “Want to move this elsewhere?”

The inability to speak had Peter getting up off the couch quickly – he couldn’t believe this was happening, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to miss the opportunity. He heard a chuckle leave Tony’s lips before the older man got from the couch and followed after Peter. His strong arm wrapped around Tony’s middle, Peter refusing to be parted from the other for too long. Though he never saw the room before, Peter knew exactly where he was headed. The door opened on its own accord; Friday’s technology really was amazing. The next thing Peter knew, Tony was pulling him close and pressing him against the door that was now shut. The older man’s lips were everywhere, the scruff of his goatee burning a path across the cheeks of his face, down his neck and across the bits of collar bone that were exposed under his shirt. Peter let a moan escape his lips, the attack on his skin intoxicating, each press of Tony’s lips or tug of his teeth made his skin prickle – the weight of the door pressing into his back even adding to the entire thing. His hands were uselessly tangled in the fabric of Tony’s shirt – his body under a trance from the bizarre situation and overwhelming stimuli.

Peter did not expect the next thing he saw to be Tony Stark on his knees in front of him, yet when he opened his eyes – the older man was there, his hands tracing over his flanks, lips mouthing over the obvious bulge in his too-tight pants. Then, hazy brown eyes were looking up at him, Tony’s hands catching up to the rest of him, those calloused fingers already working on the button and zip of his jeans. Tearing his glance away from Tony, Peter glanced further down to make sure he didn’t have any embarrassing boxers on, a soft breath of relief leaving his chest when he remembered the white Calvin’s he put on after getting himself cleaned up earlier.

The time for thinking was completely out the window when he felt a puff of air ghosting over the bulge pressing insistently against the front of his briefs. Tony’s hands were quick to pull his pants and briefs down, Peter clumsily kicking his shoes off to help with the process. His cock bobbed in front of the other man’s lips – Tony’s eyes glazing over further when he noticed the slick sitting on the tip of his dick. He was already leaking like crazy, his cock rock hard and balls drawn up against his skin. Tony looked up and caught Pete’s eye for a second before the younger man was nodding, answering the silent question without any hesitation.

The incredible heat surrounding him caught Peter off guard – his head smacking back against the door behind him from the intensity of it. The talented tongue pressed against the heavy vein on the underside of his cock and traced it – Peter moaning at the feeling of another drop of precum falling from the head of his dick. Tony moaned around him then, his fingers circling tightly at the end of Pete’s shaft to pump the last inch or two his mouth didn’t fit around. Between the drag of his tongue and the tight suction passing from the tip down to Tony’s fingers, Peter was a mess against the door in a couple of minutes. He tried to keep his hips from pressing forward, though he didn’t give a shit about his hand’s tightness in Tony’s hair – the other man seemed to enjoy it, anyway. Suddenly, Tony’s hands were gripping his hips, fingers digging into the skin and pressing – pressing until Peter could do nothing other than thrust forward. The need to cum flashed hotly across the front of Pete’s mind, his stomach tighter than tight – every single bit of him drawn up and ready to explode.

“Fuck – Tony, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum if you don’t stop,” Peter babbled using the energy he had left to pick his head up off the door and look down at Tony. The older man didn’t let him go, in fact – those fingers tightened on his skin and his mouth moved until only the tip of his dick was in Tony’s mouth. One last hard suck and Pete was a goner – each pulse of release making him call out Tony’s name, his fingers probably brutal in the other’s hair where they gripped. Tony didn’t loosen his grip on his hips, instead using it to keep Peter upright when his knees threatened to buckle. “Holy fuck,” Peter moaned, one of his hands moving to grip tightly in his own hair – the pain of it keeping him grounded.

“Holy fuck is right. Get the rest of your clothes off, Pete. I can’t wait much longer to feel you against me,” Tony’s words were suddenly right by his ear – Peter’s eyes widening when he realized just how close the other man was pressed against him again. Tony palmed his dick, fingers tickling over the sensitive flesh teasingly – “you can go again, can’t you?” The question lingered there, Peter’s shit eating smirk answer enough for the both of them. The younger man quickly stripped, his shirt coming off over his head and then his socks – Peter so glad he didn’t notice before. Tony Stark sucked him off with his socks still on his feet – just like the noob he actually was. Peter practically jumped on the bed, his back settling against the softness of the sheets, the mattress beneath him one of the comfiest things he’d ever felt.

Peter didn’t spend much time thinking about the bed, though – his eyes were drawn to the older man starting the process of underdressing. Like any gentleman, he popped off the expensive watch from his wrist, the accessory finding its way to the proper place on the dresser he’d wandered over to. Next came the belt in his jeans, the leather making a ‘whoosh’ sound as each inch pulled from the loops. Pete felt his chest flushing, the heat in his core once again starting to bubble with arousal. Those talented fingers gripped the edge of Tony’s shirt, the older man slow with the job, the shirt moved inch by inch – each new flash of skin making Peter’s cheeks burn hotter and hotter. What he assumed to be hard muscular arms were chiseled, the definition of the muscle something Peter assumed most people Tony’s age weren’t really able to accomplish. His stomach wasn’t nearly as cut up as Peter’s, but the thick line of hair that trailed down it more than made up for it. Peter’s fingers itched to get caught in the coarse hair there – to pull and tug until he could feel the warm skin underneath. The last and most painstaking piece of clothing to come off was the other’s jeans. He undid the button with just his thumb – the zip coming down on its own – the obvious bulge there much bigger and prominent than Pete’s. He stepped out of them first, each leg being removed, then folded into a neat little pile.

Only then did he let a teasing smirk slip across his lips – the older man’s hand cupping himself through his underwear as he took Peter in, dark eyes roaming. Peter watched Tony give himself a squeeze before slipping his fingers under the waistband of those sexy briefs and pull until they were falling down his hips and onto the floor. “Wow,” Peter muttered, the word coming out before he could stop it. Tony laughed; his head thrown back from the sheer joy of it. “You’re one to talk, kid – damn, Pete,” Tony answered, the hand cupping himself now back giving his cock a few languid strokes. The whole show screamed dirty – the older man obviously okay with the fact that Peter thought so candidly about him. Tony was putting this on for Peter – each steady tug of his cock, the slow strip – even the amazing blowjob against the door.

Tony tortured Peter with the amazing view of the man stroking his cock for another couple of minutes. Peter taking the time to really look at the other man. His hands were speckled with white lines and severe scars, though they moved flawlessly over the warmed flesh of his own cock. His legs were long and lean – his thighs heavily muscled but not in a way that screamed ‘dumb meat head’. They were working man’s legs – and they helped carry the weight of the world on Tony’s shoulders. His chest was defined, though heavily scarred, too. The faint blue glow of the arc reactor added to the mood – Peter’s eyes selfishly settling on the incredible piece of tech for a moment or two longer than necessary. The man’s dick was long and thick – the appendage much heavier looking than his own. He could see the slightest hint of precum starting to collect on the head, Tony’s thumb moving over it to collect the fluid while he watched, using it to ease the glide of his fingers over the turgid flesh.

Pete chocked off a moan when Tony finally moved over to the bed and joined him, the older man pressing himself over Pete – the weight exactly what he dreamed it would be. The show was obviously over, Tony’s hunger tangible in a way it wasn’t just a minute ago when they were staring at each other across the room. He opened his legs and let Tony settle between them – the move bringing their cocks together. Pete’s hand slipped between them to wrap his fingers around them both – just to keep them sliding against one another, the younger man hungry for friction and heat. The moan he could feel come from the pit of Tony’s chest had him clenching his fingers, bringing them that much closer. Their hips swiveled and pumped together – the slickness drooling from Peter easing the slide in the most delicious of ways.

“I hope the fantasy of me topping you is still a thing. I need to fuck you so bad, Pete – I have not stopped thinking about it for ages now,” Tony mumbled against the side of Peter’s neck. Ages? Holy shit, Pete thought – his attraction wasn’t as one sided as he forced himself to believe all this time. That thought gave him renewed confidence and sent his mind spiraling in a million different directions.

“It is – it really, really is. Do you want me to tell you how I thought about you turning me onto my belly,” Peter thrust his hips up while he spoke – the slide still doing delicious things to his brain. “How you opened me up with just your tongue, then draped your weight over me and took what you wanted.” Tony’s hips were moving restlessly against his own – the older man’s pants and groans loud in his ear – the huff of his breath the only indicator for him to keep going. “Or do you want to hear about how I thought about sitting on your lap and riding your dick until I came a couple times across your chest – until I dragged an orgasm out of you with just the roll of my hips and squeeze of my ass?” Peter watched as Tony threw his head back and moaned “fuck” – the man starting to lose what little bit of control he seemed to be grasping to. “Fuck me, Tony – please, I want you to,” Peter finally panted out, his fingers squeezing their dicks once more before pulling his hand away, his fingers gripping onto Tony’s hip instead.

A hungry kiss was pressed into his lips, the slide of their tongues dirty and hot. Peter could feel the tiny thrusts against his stomach, the slick slide of a trail of precum that he didn’t know who it belonged to. He pulled away from the kiss – the need to breath overwhelming, his senses getting overloaded in the blink of an eye. Tony sat up a little, the older man taking the respite to stroke himself with one hand while the other reached into the bedside drawer – a victorious look on his face when he dropped the condom and lube on the sheets. He didn’t move to turn Peter over, so the younger man simply spread his legs wider – the indecent way he did it not lost on either of them. Tony heaved in a huge breath at the sight, his body moving on its own accord – the older man once again fitting snuggly between the v of his knees. A couple of kisses were peppered to the inside of his thigh, Tony distracting him from the sound of the lube cap being popped open and the feel of cold lube on his ass when he felt a finger pressing against his rim.

The moan that left him when Tony got the first finger in would’ve been embarrassing if it didn’t match the grunt Tony didn’t bother holding back. The stretch was nice – the little bit of burn biting across his skin, making the entire situation feel much more tangible. The subtle pump of the digit felt amazing and then Tony skimmed his prostate and Peter saw stars. “Tony, fuck!” Peter gasped out; his hole clenching tight around Tony’s finger.

The older man looked up at him, the view he’d been staring at obviously too much. Though, Peter watched his eyes glaze further when he took in the view of Peter laid out before him – long limbs and soft skin sweat covered and ripe for the picking. A second finger quickly joined the first, Tony now intimate with his sweet spot and the precum that dribbled from Pete’s cock when he hit it. His pace was steady and teasing. Time stood still as he laid back and absorbed. The third finger slipped in easily next to the others, the stretch so much and not enough – Peter’s senses were so overwhelmed, he probably couldn’t have told you his name or address in that moment.

The whispered “I want you across my lap” almost had him undone – Peter’s hand flew to his cock to grip the base tightly. He let out a sharp moan and tucked his head back against the mattress – his teeth digging into his bottom lip – “fuck, anything, Tony.” And he meant it, too. He dreamed about this so many different times, they probably couldn’t fuck enough to keep up with all the ways Tony could possibly want him. Tony pulled his fingers out lightly, the man pressing a quick kiss to Pete’s lips before he moved enough to sit on the mattress, his back pressed against the headboard of the huge bed. Those calloused hands fumbled a condom down the length of his dick, Tony smiling at him when he caught Pete’s eye.

Peter didn’t waste any time – after he felt Tony was adjusted enough, he opened the cap of the lube and poured a big drizzle of the stuff right on Tony’s cock. The older man moaned – his eyes widening when the coldness of the lube hit his smoldering hot flesh. His hand gripped Tony’s cock and gave it a stroke, the lube cool in his hand – the contrast of it making him shiver. He settled over Tony, the tip of that heavy cock pressed against his opening and Peter couldn’t help it – he sat back without warning, the head breaching first and then the rest of him sliding, sliding, sliding until Peter could feel the base of Tony’s hips. Tony felt amazing inside of him – Peter finally feeling completely full and totally connected with another human being.

The rhythm Peter set came naturally, the younger boy rolling his hips to get adjusted before he started to bounce on Tony’s length – the speed slow to start. Tony’s hands were tight on his hips, the older man pressing in right at the end of his stroke to get as much of his length into Peter as he could. They kept that up for a few minutes, moans and the sweet slap of flesh against flesh the only things heard in the room. Then, Peter adjusted slightly and sat back a little – the movement bringing the tip of Tony’s cock right against his prostate. “Oh god, that’s – fuck,” Peter got out through clenched teeth, the heat in his core no longer simmering, the rolling boil of it starting to come to the lip, threatening to spill over.

“Fuck, Pete. You feel amazing,” Tony murmured, the older man sitting up a little bit more to get a little deeper and to press them even closer together. His lips found the warm skin of Peter’s chest and his hands wrapped tightly around him – hips starting to join the action a little more. Peter felt the clench of Tony’s hands on the skin of his back as his thrusts started to speed up – the younger man sitting back more, letting the thrusts pummel into him hard and deep. By the end, each stroke tapped that spot inside him, the slapping of their skin loud and overwhelming with the way Tony huffed while he thrust and moaned when their bodies came together. The friction of their slick chests squeezing his cock pulled Peter over the edge – Tony’s name shouted from his lips before he went black for a second. Tony kept up his ruthless pace, Peter’s name coming off the other’s lips like a mantra until he too fell over the edge – Peter just able to catch the look on Tony’s face and the way his cum felt pulsing against the walls of his insides.

The come down from this orgasm took a little longer – Peter’s brain frazzled from the three orgasms he pulled from himself throughout the day and Tony’s weight more distracting than it had any right to be. The older man was pressing kisses against whatever skin he could reach, Peter finding himself more grounded with each touch. When he finally blinked away the haze of it all, Tony was looking up at him, one hand still clenched tightly around his middle while the other caressed the side of his cheek. Peter couldn’t help the soft smile that slipped across his lips, the man a fucking vision looking at him like he was – his touches still intoxicating, despite the fact that he was completely spent. “Wow,” Peter finally managed to mumble, his lips seeking out Tony’s for a sound kiss.

Managing just enough energy to get up off the other man’s lap, Peter collapsed against the comfortable mattress, his body melting into it. He watched with sleepy eyes as Tony got up and disposed of the condom, the man trekking into the bathroom for a minute or two before coming back and joining Pete on the bed. The soft press of a warm washcloth on his skin was surprising but not unwelcome. The simple fact that Tony cared enough to clean him up was exhilarating. Whatever happened after this, at least he knew Tony liked him enough to be good to him – especially after such an intense between them.

It didn’t look like Tony was going to make him leave or anything, so Peter let himself relax into the comfort of the sheets beneath him. The other’s weight surprised him a moment later when he felt Tony shift back onto the bed and gather him close – Peter’s back to Tony’s front, the soft thrum of the arc reactor pressing into his skin. No words were exchanged, the two simply settled down and snuggled up together. Tony pulled the blanket over them both with one hand, then pressed a couple of soft kisses against the back of his neck. Peter let the barely there pulse of the arc reactor and the rise and fall of Tony’s chest lull him to sleep.

If Peter was surprised when he woke up the next morning with Tony Stark spooning him tightly, he didn’t let it show. A small part of him thought Tony might run away like he seemed to do – but the man was still there, snoring peacefully against his neck. Tony actually seemed to be more relaxed now than Peter could ever remember seeing him. His hand moved to grasp onto the warm palm pressing against his chest – Peter slipping his fingers into the gaps of Tony’s to keep the man close. “You’re thinking too loud, Pete,” Tony said into the skin of his neck, the younger man not nearly as sneaky as he thought himself to be. The older man pressed a kiss against his neck and tightened his grip, a sigh leaving his lips. “How do you feel about pancakes?” Peter couldn’t help but chuckle and bring their joint hands to his lips. After pressing a kiss to the back of Tony’s, he nuzzled back and grinned. “Pancakes are my favorite, actually.”

----

Later that morning, after admittedly way more time than either man usually spent in bed, Tony and Peter made pancakes together. The natural way they fit together hadn’t changed – instead, Peter could feel a different kind of closeness between them. A closeness that only grew the more time they spent together – in the lab, out on the town together, and in bed, though the time spent in bed would probably always be Peter’s favorite.

The next time Peter got the opportunity to post on Spider-Man’s Twitter feed, he snickered when he pressed post – the world probably not ready for the photo they’d just taken. They were on the roof of Stark Tower, Spider-Man’s mask was up just enough to show his lips and the helmet on the Ironman suit was pulled back to see Tony’s face. In the photo they were kissing, Spider-Man’s hand on the meat of Iron Man’s cheek and Iron Man – well, the roundness of that jumpsuit encased ass was the focal point and the glove was cupping it tightly. Pocketing the phone, Peter pulled his mask back down and grinned – this time, when the world saw Spider-Man’s love for Iron Man, it’d be reflected right back.

Tony wrapped the suits arm around his shoulders – the two looking at each other through their masks.

“Come on, Pete – city’s waiting.”

#starker #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #fics #marvel fanfiction #fan fics #ironspider #tony #peter #bobbie writes

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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don't play the fool now (multi) - chapter two - lily2

adore isn’t too interested in attending the famous and ever-so popular: club katya however, she bumps into someone who leaves a lasting impression. meanwhile, shea breaks the most basic rules of her job and katya definitely cares for her sister more than she should.

— ✧*。

Adore stood, locking arm’s with Scarlet and Courtney who were on both of her sides, both of them completely dolled up and wearing their finest and cutest sequin dresses, the new employee stuck out like a sore thumb with her long hair down, a short and black v-neck dress and of course some fishnets and bright red lipstick— she didn’t want to be polished, it was a casino and a club after all, as if someone could get through a sentence or even speak to her about her possibly questionable style choices as they sat, gambling their life away and utterly wasted.

“Well I don’t see the others but we are a bit early.” The Australian speaking up and brushing her hair back gently, not wanting to ruin the shape before she heard a whistle and saw the rest of the girls from their unit walk up, Adore clearly the odd one out as even Yvie decided to dress in whatever she could find that wasn’t too casual. “Let’s do the damn thing ladies.” Aja spoke over the gaggle of girls who all interlocked hands, it almost looked like a cult; an extremely attractive and undercover (but not really) cult.

First Scarlet and Courtney walked through, waving to the suspecting and familar bartenders and staff who greeted them oh-so-sweetly as expected from two glamorous regulars though Adore couldn’t help but notice the security’s eyes follow her before she turned the corner, clinging a bit to her two new teammates, not due to fear however, Azusa was far more tramuatic and terrifying as a thought than this entire casino: it was more the feeling of being so unaware, everything was bright and the lights a bit dim, people of every kind wanting the same two things: money and alcohol, music blasting as Yvie and Tatianna moved as they walked, feeling themselves to the song.

“Obviously we aren’t gonna stick together forever so do we want to have a time and place to meet?” Scarlet raising her hand to stop the other seven girls from walking past her, raising a good concern. “The fact you think we will be sober enough to even remember.” Yvie cackled, amused that Scarlet really, truly believed picking a place in the middle of the night, at a casino was a good option for the unit of girls, trying to run away from the stress of their jobs and welcome Adore (in possibly the worst fashion possible) as they gambled and drank the night away, atleast that was what Yvie was planning to do with her time.

“It’s a genuine question, I’m sorry I don’t actually get wasted every time I go out somewhere and besides we’re not on the job, not like I have radios to talk with you guys!“

Tatianna held her phone up and nervously gave a smile to the two already beginning to start the usual bickering session, “But we all do have phones and I’m sure some of us will stick together, if anyone goes wrong let’s do that me and Brook Lynn are the ones to call, I know she doesn’t drink too often anhway and I’m pretty responsible so we’ll be the good parents today.” The Canadian shrugged, utterly and completely okay with that little suggestion, “That’s fine by me, I know I’m always the type to get bored and be on my phone anyway."

"Why did you come then?” Yvie asked, gripping her arm, “Because someone has to be the responsible one like Tatianna said and I don’t trust any of the rest of you to be at Club Katya, we saw how that saga turned out for you and for Aja last time.” Adore wasn’t exactly sure what story that was about but judging by Aja’s cheeks beginning to glow red and Yvie’s stammer, she assumed it wasn’t the most pleasant situation or maybe it was the fucking funniest thing ever, she had yet to find out and maybe she never would.

“You’re coming with me!” Scarlet winked at Adore, speaking up over the rest of them and dragging her along with Courtney, the two of them giddy as can be, they seemed to legitmately enjoy the aesthetic and double life, not like anyone would ask what job they had and if they didn’t they certainly wouldn’t answer a private investigator or detective, what a damn downer.

“The first night of your job and you’re gonna spend it with us gambling, wonderful!” The chipper tone from Courtney’s voice enough to speak volumes of how this night was about to go, she was either going to earn a fuck ton of money or die on the balcony roof and both seemed like acceptable, viable options at this stage of the game.

“Let’s get our money ladies!"

*.✧

Bianca, Shea and Jinkx gathered in the car, all dressed about as nice they ever would going to Club Katya though Bianca always attempted to atleast look decent, wanting to make a lasting impression and also show off her clothing, it was a win-win! Shea’s fingers tapped the window of the car she she stared blankly, the window of the black Tesla dimmed, Jinkx claiming it was for protection— not wanting others to make any assumptions but Shea knew it really came down to what was probably a sponsorship and the fact that Jinkx could barely drive if the sun was glaring, she probably got tired of wearing glasses in the car, claiming always it made her look older than Bianca.

"You’re really hilarious for someone who can’t even stay awake doing a simple task, why do you think I only give you the exciting shit? It’s not because I love you, it’s because I know you won’t fucking sleep and pass out on the concrete.” The Auburn haired woman had to laugh, gently clutching Bianca’s arm, Jinkx knew the mutual love and respect they had shared for over two decades was enough to make her atleast go a bit easy on the Seattle native, she twirled her own auburn hair around her fingertips before giving a blank stare at Shea, who turned and met her eyes.

Jinkx wasn’t exactly sure what to think of Shea just yet, she had been very promising and apparently Bob’s word of her was so generous and so incredible that Bianca already trusted her with Katya: Manila had been scared after only meeting her at Bianca’s own living space, though she had a few, once a few boys and drugs got involved so to see someone as new as Shea being trusted to handle the dirt and task to come was definitely terrifying and impressive enough.

“You nervous?” Bianca asked, crossing her legs as Shea’s eyes darted away from Jinkx, her hands interlocking with themselves as she shut her eyes, running a hand through her hair. “A little, but nothing I can’t handle, I’m here to show I’m ready for the job.” For someone who had only joined five months ago she was definitely a shining beacon of what the future was in store atleast that was how Bob put it and Bianca would definitely trust her word.

“Well, don’t stress yourself out before we’ve gotten there.” Was the only piece of truth Bianca could offer before she turned away from Shea who only gave a polite nod, wishing deeply she had just been sent with Aquaria and Violet instead, she had heard a lot about the infamous Katya Zamolodchikova.

Katya Zamolodchikova who had been in prison for drug abuse, Katya who had escaped Russia due to her family and the growing and rampant terror of government, Katya who now was a mogul in the Eastern United States for her line of casinos, clubs and whatever downtrodden thing she could possibly imagine, living on her own and hanging around at her own established area’s, staying hush and quiet about any business or disappearance of men or women who had messed with the wrong people.

All she had to do was laugh or smile and she had anyone who was willing around her finger, her thick and curly long blonde hair covering almost all her beautifully and consistently painted face, wearing lots of lace and lingerie on her downtime and spending her growing fortune on beauty products, animal charities, her new projects and sometimes saving a stack or two for Bianca who had helped her break into the business and gave her a place when she was just a bedridden, ill immigrant, lost in New York City and barley able to communicate in proper English.

“I miss Katya!” Jinkx pouted, smiling at the thought of seeing her fellow Eastern European at her own club, she knew the meeting was for business but nothing a pack of cigarettes couldn’t do for sweet and dear Katya, Bianca had already figured out every mark and weakness she had and she really would be a difficult character to crack if it wasn’t for the fact she is the reason the bitch could even communicate in English. “I don’t.” Bianca laughed, hitting Jinkx before coughing and handling herself up again realizing Shea was still in the car and she had to keep up that “leader” and “supreme boss” act up.

✧*。

The three exited the car, Bianca giving her driver direct and clear instructions when and where to come before he was on his way off, she walked in the middle of Shea and Jinkx, the latter auburn haired woman adjusting her dress and making sure it hit the floor in just the right light before she shook a bit to ease her own personal stress and begun walking closely to Bianca, Shea following in pursuit, knowing better than to open her mouth and ask questions.

Music blasting, lights dimmed, flashing and bright colors everywhere, alcohol splattered on the floor everywhere they seemed to look and the constant image of people grinding or kissing or attempting to dance: this was definitely Katya’s club and her own doing.

Bianca’s heels hit the tile of the hallway right next to club, her two girls following, many knew this as the gateway from the Club to the Casino or vise versa but the hallway also housed dressing rooms for any kind of entertainment that showed up, Katya took after these rooms like her own and had even converted one into her personal space, knowing her entire life was work and the occasional times she went home and didn’t have to ring down ten shots of vodka.

A smattering knock from Jinkx, credit to her, had the Russian cursing before she opened the door and her dull and otherwise threatening expression changed into a soft smile, her eyes raising in surprise as her lashes fluttered, shrieking then which made Shea almost collapse into the pavement in surprise, still grasping the door handle she quickly pulled the three of them in and locked the door— Bianca impressed with how well decorated and insulted the room was.

The Russian quickly grabbing Bianca in her arms and laughing wholeheartedly, the two giggling and rowdy like two high schoolers, “красивая женщина!” She cooed in Russian to her dearest and nearest friend before taking Jinkx and planting a kiss on both of her cheeks as she reciprocated the favor, “красивое платье.” Jinkx flushing and waving her off, knowing more than enough Russian to realize she called her dress beautiful, “Спасибо!” The half-Ukranian replied with a soft glow across her face, Katya wearing nothing but a gorgeous red, feathered sheer robe with a thick black bra and spandex.

“Looking like a whore as usual.” Bianca teased as Shea stood a bit awkwardly, not exactly knowing how and when to introduce herself to the not-so-mysterious Russian mogul. “Oh yes!” Jinkx clapped noticing Shea, “Katya, this is Shea, she works for us and is a very good and promising employee."

They shook hands though Katya was never into the formality, she’d rather kiss someone on the cheek than shake their hand and hope the other person didn’t have a strong grip. "Any friend of Bianca is of course a friend of mine, I trust you are new? I have yet to see or hear of you around.” Her sniffing was absolutely correct, Bianca explaining she was of Bob’s finding and is very dedicated to her line of work and extremely intelligent. “Likes leather to boot.” The comment from the blonde referring to her skin-tight leather emsmeble, “I like it!” She slapped Shea’s shoulders and flashed that endearing and famous Katya smile.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure."

The four of them sat before Katya stood again, pouring four glasses of genuine Russian vodka she had gotten yesterday from her deliveries, "Just some taste of the motherland!” Handing a glass to the other three they cheered and took down the shot, Katya giving herself another sip straight from the bottle just for fun.

“So of course there is some business to speak of, we love you but we have a task to finish.” Bianca spoke first, Katya leaning in her chair and staring curiously, “Well yes, it’s what you must do, please tell me more.” Bianca opened her mouth before giving a signal for Jinkx and Shea to leave, an unusual turn of events they both gave eachother a disheartened look before they stood and went out the door, Bianca scooting closer to Katya, “I want them out because this goes back to you."

"To me? Has my family finally caught up to me and the Russian government wants the money I stole back?"

"Not exactly but I fear it has something to possibly do with your sister."

Katya’s face bleached itself white, her breathing a bit slower but her heart racing almost three times as fast, her greatest and only fear in life wasn’t being killed, death, nothing like that; it was her sister being in harm and somehow poking herself at the underground and what was there, Sasha had majored in forensics and political science last Katya had heard, their brief and discreet conversation during their mother’s funeral at St. Petersburg more than enough of an indication that Sasha would absolutely become some kind of hero, politician or worse— detective.

"Bianca you swore to me she would never, ever get hurt or wind up in your cases.” The tone in her voice nothing but pure anger and disappointment, Bianca quickly grabbed her hands and shook her head, “And I’m keeping that promise, I’m a cold hearted bitch but jesus christ, you know I would never do that shit.”

The Russian breathed a much needed sigh of relief before letting go of her hands, “So what, I’m guessing she is a detective now? My worst fear.” Bianca could only nod and see Katya’s eyes flash with nothing but utter fear and worry, she knew that meant her sister was safe but at a distance— they weren’t going to just dismiss her and go easy if she tried to harass and meddle in what she didn’t need to even if she was Katya’s sister but: the promise would always be kept, Katya was absolutely sacred and her sister was untouched territory, that’s how it would stay.

“She is but from our files it shows she really hasn’t broken out on us specifically, she is doing the easy work, not the dirty work, anyone can take someone to court for a single count of murder and analyze the results."

"So what about her is so important then?"

Bianca snuck a file folder covered in sticky notes, throwing it to Katya for her to open and investigate herself.

"We need you to help us out and pull some strings."

✧*。

Shea had decided to take the chance as she walked herself over the casino, knowing Bianca was someone who would take her sweet, sweet time if she was talking business and things with Katya: Jinkx insisting on just staying by the club and getting alcohol. Giving herself a grand tour, Shea gagged at the sheer amount of wealth and power and beauty the casino showed off, clearly Katya was intent on showing every penny she had put into her business and buildings, it showed from the outside to the inside.

Alcohol was the only thing really on her mind and she wanted to overpay for a speciality cocktail to atleast make herself feel a bit fancy and important, not wanting to be in the club lights and blasting music, the Casino had music but was definitely not loud and not obnxious party and dance music, it was a nice welcome in the moment.

Her eyes immediately caught eye of a stranger, short haired, curly blonde and tall who was leaning against the bar and speaking to someone next to her who had long, thick and black hair. The blonde’s soft gaze almost instantly gravitating Shea towards her, she prayed that she wasn’t married and this wouldn’t be awkward fast, she simply wanted a drink and the opportunity to buy her one.

"Excuse me.” Shea spoke up, gently tapping the blonde on her shoulder, she turned in the barstool and her eyes met with Shea’s and the two completely melted, Sasha incomprehensibly silent before Adore nudged her a bit, smirking seeing her new co-worker and fellow friend so caught in midst of the gaze.

“Oh I’m sorry, that was so rude.” The Russian speaking up once Adore gently shook her out of it, the two smiling at eachother as Sasha leaned on the bar counter, telling that the mysterious and new girl clearly was struggling to speak, “I…"

Shea put her hands around her own waist and gave a glistening grin and wink, sliding in-between her and her friend, Adore raising her hands a bit frustrated that she might already turn into the third wheel. "I was wondering if I could buy you a drink."

"I would be very glad if you did."

Thank god, Shea begun to calm a bit, pulling out an 100$ bill and sliding it to the bar tender who quickly took it and waited for whatever drinks they wanted to purchase, "I just want straight vodka.” She must’ve been Eastern European judging by her choice in alcohol, it wasn’t sterotypical, it was just what she had come to understand from Jinkx and barely meeting Katya twenty minutes ago. Not to mention the not too obvious but still noticable punch of an accent

“Gin and tonic.” She instructed while still staring at Sasha, entranced, she was already breaking ten rules in the non-existent handbook of being in the mafia but not like Bianca was even wondering where she was, if she was she would’ve called anyway. “I’m Sasha.” She giggled, Shea taking her hand and giving a small wink in reply, “Shea."

Adore didn’t know whether to throw up and just leave, let her be or see where this went but she decided on the usual, giving Sasha a discreet tap of the shoulder, a nod from her and she was off on her on.

Ten minutes of aimless strolling had showed that Scarlet and Courtney were both gambling as if they had any good amount of money to lose so freely, flying by the hem of their dresses. But they genuinely seemed to be loving their lives and the game they were playing.

"Oh shit!” She yelped, feeling herself fall into someone as she stared backwards, not paying attention to whatever was in front of her, an entire bag dropped but she more focused on helping out the poor person she had knocked down.

“Jesus Christ!” Yelled the other, distinctly female voice, before Adore gently took her hands and helped her up, making sure she didn’t trip on her heels before they both begun to speak, quickly letting go of their hands.

Bianca couldn’t help but glance at her, she was gorgeous. She would usually rip someone in fishnets to pieces and destroy them on sight but damn she looked good and everything fit her to a t, clearly she had her own eye for fashion, her dark eyes and dark hair only helping her to blend in with the dark wall of the casino, “I’m sorry, I really didn’t watch where I was going—"

"I know, I know, I got that.” Bianca dusted herself off and only hoped her heels didn’t suffer any damages, they were expensive and a gift from Raja which meant she either bought them or stole them but either way, same attachment to the perfectly snug white heels. Adore snapped back, “I’m sorry?"

"Listen don’t worry about it, really, thank you for your help.” Bianca raced off as fast as a normal person could look trying to run in heels across a casino at night but Adore blinked, finally shying her eyes away from the woman.

She was beautiful.

Black hair, styled very nicely to add onto the overall package, white heels, a tulle skirt and either handsewen or what Adore assumed was designer for a sequined top that matched and coordinated so well with her entire outfit, she was either the most important person in the world and Adore was oblivious or she was just someone’s arm candy for the night who needed to make themselves into a beauty queen for the occasion.

Adore didn’t believe too badly in many things but she would definitely pray and hope that somehow, somehow she could find that same girl again, someday

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roxannerocket · 6 years

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[A cheer up 🎁 for @babydxhl I know you’re having a rough time. Sending my love.] Mary’s less than festive anger gave Roxy a pretty solid chuckle. She’d probably be angry too if Mary had broken into her apartment in the ungodly hours of the morning and bribed her (if she’d had them) henchmen into taking the holidays off. “Come on. I got a day planned. I already packed you a bag and wrangled that goblin of yours into a carrier.” It took considerable effort to coax Mary into some warm clothes and even more effort to coax her into the car, her grumbling mood made worse by Roxy’s insisting she ride in the car seat, strapped in next to a bright pink cat carrier adorned with sliver garland. Roxy mostly drowned out Mary’s complaining and questions by signing along loudly with Christmas music. As if lshe could correct Mary’s mood through sheer force of cheer. 🎶 Ho ho ho, bring a bottle of rum! Ho ho ho, cream and whiskey bourbon! Ho ho ho, bring a bottle of booze! We got nothing to lose, ho ho ho!🎶 After almost an hours drive past the picturesque snow topped trees lining the highway out of the city they pulled up at a busy tree farm, just outside the outskirts of Gotham. Children screamed excitedly, frolicking through the fluffy white snow. Parents looked stressed and happy in equal measure. Young couples held hands as they browsed through the trees, a young woman insisting to her laughing girlfriend that she could cut down a rather large tree she flexed dramatically much to her girlfriends delight. Roxy took a deep breath through her nose. “Doesn’t it just smell like Christmas Mary?” The reply she got consisted mostly of swear words. Roxy laughed it off, plopping Mary, who struggled half heartedly as if she wanted to give Roxy a hard time, but didn’t want to be dropped face first into the snow into a brand new stroller. She left her suv running, with the heat on low for that...thing. “Look Mary. All terrain tires, top of the line. Extra fancy. I’ll even let you pick the tree.” More cursing. Roxy laughed again, starting up a rousing chorus. 🎶You will get a sentimental feeling when you hear voices singing, let's be jolly! Deck the halls with boughs of holly!🎶 Pushed Mary through the well trod paths between the trees, a new stroller had probably been unnecessary but Christmas was for buying stuff. Her singing had tapered off into cheerful humming as she tapped the farm provided saw against the stroller handles to the tune of jingle bells. Her humming faltered only slightly when Mary pointed out a reasonably tall tree, but with thick full branches and an even thicker trunk. Roxy just locked the wheels of the stroller and set to work on the tree. 45 minuets later, Roxy was both sweaty and freezing, her fingers numb and her palms burning as she sawed through the extremely dense tree. She was in too deep to admit defeat and ask Mary to pick a thinner tree. This was their tree now and Roxy was going to cut it down. Finally another 20 minuets later the tree fell with a soft whump into the snow, spraying the stroller with pine needles and snow. That gave Roxy another hearty laugh as the farm attendants hurried forward to bind and load the tree. “It’s actually a beautiful tree you salty little grinch.” Roxy commented as the attendants secured the tree to the roof of the car. Roxy tugged off her coat as she got back in the car, thankful for antiperspirant and seat heaters. Tree secured firmly to the roof Roxy set off back towards the city another near hour drive. Parking in a severely over priced and over crowded parking garage, Roxy got Mary into the stroller with significantly less struggling and headed off to some extremely fancy shops, she only picked up packages at each one and the uniformed staff would rush them off to the car. The great thing about Christmas is everyone was too absorbed in their own business to really pay too much mind to the pair, Roxy with her trademark curls shoved under a Santa hat and Mary hidden by the canopy of the stroller. They entered an incredibly busy electronics store, not that anyone would have been able to tell from the outside, the whole block of shops adhering to an Olde Gotham aesthetic. Inside was chaotic. Two women were yelling at each other and at who appeared to be a manager. The line for the customer service desk practically reached the door. Roxy sighed, tapping her foot impatiently as she tried to formulate a plan. Quickly she hoisted Mary out of the stroller, her round face already pink from the cold. “Cry.” Mary shot her a dry look. “Come on. Do you wanna be here all day? Just cry and make it believable.” Mary let out a pretty believable wail directly in Roxy’s ear. Real tears welled up in her eyes and it was easy for Roxy to look flustered and stressed out. Mary’s crying attracted some attention. However people quickly returned to their affairs, with the occasional annoyed look. An employee who looked on the verge of tears themselves was rushing by when Roxy caught their arm. She bounced Mary like someone trying to soothe a baby. “I’m so sorry! I know you’re busy but I ordered ahead a few days ago and they told me I could just pick it up without a line. I just don’t want to keep this one out much longer. She’s so cranky and I think she’s getting an ear infection. Please. Please.” The employee looked sympathetic, and took a long look at the printed receipt Roxy was holding. “I’ll see what I can do Mrs. Carlisle.” Roxy smiled dazzlingly “Thank you so much, god bless you!” A moment later another employee arrived at her side “They’re boxing up your order, please take a seat, have some hot chocolate.” Roxy sat herself down on a nearby bench, still holding a believably sniffling Mary in her lap. She parked the stroller somewhat obnoxiously to discourage people from sitting near them. However Mary’s display had attracted more attention than anticipated and an attractive man sat down silently next to them. “I hope the two of you aren’t up to any trouble.” Came a smooth voice. Roxy turned quickly and found herself face to face with Bruce Wayne. Huh. Last time she’d seen him she’d been pointing a steak knife at him at some “Gotham Revitalization Gala” ranting drunkenly about gentrification as Mary had set the suit of some tv executive on fire. Not their best night to be honest. They’d both been up too long. Firmly on the side of manic and sleep deprived. Urging her brain to reboot she fired up her smile again. “Well if it isn’t Bruce Wayne himself! Surely someone as rich as you has someone to handle this kinda chaos for him.” He stared at her with a near disturbing intensity for a split second before firing up his own billion dollar smile. “I do, but this is kind of a special present for my son and I’m meticulous about the details. I have to ask again Miss Sutton. What brings you here?” Mary muttered something bitterly from her lap that sounded like “Which son?” But Roxy paid her no mind and plowed on. “Just picking up a Christmas order. No trouble, I promise. Payed for everything.” With money that had been 100% stolen at some prior date, but it was the attempt at legality that counted. She handed him the printed receipt. He studied it briefly, before pressing it gently into her hands. “I’m glad to hear that Miss Sutton...Miss Dahl.” He shot Mary a charming smile. Mary rolled her eyes. Roxy continued to pour on the charm as well , the last thing she needed was pretty boy Wayne ruining her day by calling the police. “I didn’t know you were so tech savvy Brucie, if you’re not too busy you should come over to my place and help me set up some of this stuff, I promise to keep you warm.” She winked, barely holding back a gag at the suggestion that she needed help. Bruce just chuckled, patting Roxy’s hand as he stood up to leave. “I’m more than sure you’ve got it handled Roxanne, after all you insisted you could ‘retrofit the entire South Gotham power grid for way less than whatever these capitalist blood money vampires were going to bleed from the city’” Damn. Had she said that? Well it was probably true. “You two ladies behave yourselves and have a merry Christmas.” He gave his own wink, disappearing effortlessly into the crowd. Roxy heaved a huge sigh of relief. “He’s pretty, but if he’d tried anything I’d have sent him face first through the window.” After that little holiday scare two employees informed Roxy her order was ready and helped her load it into the car, where the tree still sat firmly bound to the roof. Tipping each of them a crisp hundred dollar bill, she thanked them and loaded Mary back into the car. Roxy’s cheer shot straight back up to 11 after that was all said and done. 🎶The dreams go, and stay below. Cattle call, and the old dark sew. I respect that Santa left, to save his kids from the winter cold. Would you like to stay a while and dance with me?🎶 Peeling out of the parking garage Roxy hurried to her next and final errand, thankfully the gourmet grocer had curbside pickup, even if it did take near an hour to get her order. She spent the whole time trying in vain to get Mary not to make as much mess as she could in the back seat with her lunch. “You are like an actual baby, a baby made of spite.” She was pretty sure there was a soup of cat food and ginger beer sinking into the carpet of her second favorite car. She could hear the sound of cat claws going in and out of the leather seats and almost held back tears of her own. With the back and top of the car all loaded down, Roxy finally, finally turned the car back towards her apartment. The Thrill Seeker was on a pretty sketchy block, Roxy’s building the only one with Christmas lights on the outside, she caught one of her neighbors, a mob doctor and his daughter closing up shop for the day. “Merry Christmas Dr. Chang, Elizabeth!” She called from the alley between their buildings. They both gave her hurried waves, rushing to get home before the ice on the roads reformed. The side door that led up to Roxy’s apartment was adorned with a twinkling wreath, the inner hall and stairway let out a gust of warm nutmeg scented air. Roxy kinda regretted not hiring anyone to help her haul the stuff in, but no worries that’s what the freight elevator was for. Not that the thing was big enough for freight. Leaving Mary in the car while she unloaded afforded her some peace and quiet in the bracing evening air as she took a few trips up. Finally going back for Mary and her unfortunate +1 she dragged her tired body up the stairs. Mary seemed to have exhausted her fussing and was resigned to spending the next few days in the winter wonderland that had previously been Roxy’s spotless apartment. Roxy set about lighting the fireplace and anchoring the tree into its base, fluffing out the thick pine needles. She pushed a box of ornaments and lights in Mary’s direction, hurrying around the kitchen where there was a series of banging and beeping and one quick woosh of a flame. Done in the kitchen Roxy started in on her boxes from the electronics store a huge new TV and sound system, among other things. She lifted it into the prepared mount while Mary half heartedly held a string of lights in her hands. Roxy was quick with a screwdriver and had the tv up in under 15 minuets. She fussed around some more before deciding everything was how she wanted it and rushed back into the kitchen. Mary’s cat, who’s name Roxy refused to speak had found the bed and heating pad Roxy had set up and settled down to sleep. Finally Roxy heaved another sigh. Kicking off her boots by the door and peeling off her winter layers she disappeared down the hall, reappearing moments later in a pair of leggings patterned with fat reindeer and an oversized sweater. Making her way over to Mary she took the string of lights from her hands and began wrapping it around the tree. “Isn’t this nice Mar? Isn’t everything perfect?” Mary instead of replying, huffed a sigh of her own and started placing ornaments of the parts of the tree she could reach, meticulously placing them as if it were the most important thing in the world. It was less likely she cared about the tree and was more desperate to avoid engaging in any kind of genuine emotion with Roxy. They worked in amenable silence for long minutes, like when they were working on a really good plan, or sitting in a holding cell after that plan fell apart. When they were done Roxy topped the tree with a ridiculously sparkly rocket humming happily again. “Isn’t this nice?” She repeated softly, quickly turning away to go back into the kitchen. When she’d returned with a tray loaded down with snacks and two steaming mugs Mary had found her way into the pile of cushions and blankets Roxy had started keeping so Mary would stop dismantling her couch, she’d also found the remote for Roxy’s new tv and was quickly scrolling through a list of movies. Next to her was a ball of white fur almost indistinguishable from the white fluff of the bed purring loudly. As Roxy settled down, dropping a quick splash of whiskey into each of their mugs the opening notes of White Christmas played clearly through the equally as new and expensive sound system. Warm and cozy, surrounded by sweet smells and twinkling lights Roxy let out a final sigh of contentment. It was nice.

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hillywooddestiel · 7 years

Text

Walls Chapter 1

Characters:Sam, Dean x Hunter!Reader (eventually), some mysterious characters...

Warnings: Graphic(ish) violence, smut (kinda, its very mild), angst (lots), a couple more maybe but I don’t want to give anything away

Word Count:1.5k

A/N: So this has been in my drafts for a little while and I couldn’t wait to get it out there so here it is. Plus I just gained quite a few followers in the last week so this feels like an appropriate time. Like I said before, I don’t want to give anything away so no description and no aesthetic thing yet so have a semi-appropriate gif for now. I’ll add it to the next parts but it’s a huge give away. I felt so evil writing this but I loved every minute. So hold on tight, it’s gonna be a bumpy ride!

Story:

“Cheers!” You grin, clinking your glass with the guys. For once, a hunt had gone smoothly; no injuries, no fuss, no taking 7 showers to get rid of suspicious gooey substances that had exploded all over you. So you’d decided to treat yourselves to a night of drinking at the local bar. It was crowded, buzzing with people finishing work for the day. “Hey, Y/N!” Sam half whispers, nudging your arm. “What’s up Sammy?” you smirk, watching him sigh at the use of that name. “4 o'clock at the bar. Red tie.” He nods his head in the general direction. There at the bar sits a not-too-shabby gentleman in a navy suit. His grey eyes are fixated on you. Out of politeness, you smile and nod then look back to Sam. “I don’t know Sam, isn’t he a bit creepy? You know, staring like that.” While it is true that you aren’t interested in a one night stand, Sam doesn’t really know the reason why. That reason why is sat between the two of you, making eyes with a tipsy blonde across the bar. And he isn’t the least bit interested in you.

Deep down, you know nothing will ever happen between you and Dean. Hunters don’t get happy endings. But that didn’t stop your mind from thinking of the what could be’s. Almost every day, you dream of him confessing his feelings to you, kissing you, holding you in those muscular arms. Although then again, it has been a while since you got laid.

Sighing, you muster your sweetest smile, adjust your top to show more cleavage, and strut over to the suit at the bar. He eyes you up and down, lingering on your chest. “Hey,” your voice is lower, in an attempt at seduction. “Well hello…” his eyes continue to wander. You pick up on his accent immediately. British. You’d be lying if you said he didn’t become more attractive after hearing him speak. “It’s late, how about we get out of here? I have a motel room across the street…” You have no time for small talk. He nods quickly, placing his hand dangerously low on your waist as he escorts you out into the fresh air. He’s a total sleaze, but right now you don’t care. You just want to get your mind off Dean and have some fun.

Dean’s POV It only takes her two minutes to convince some suited asshole at the bar to leave with her. Not surprising since everyone finds her so damn hot. I can’t lie, I did stare at her ass as she left. It’s not my fault that she was wearing those skinny jeans that look so good on her. But, I shouldn’t think like this. We’re friends. That’s all we’ll ever be. Hunter’s don’t get that fairy tale ending. It’s fact.

I sigh into my bottle. The blonde chick with the mini skirt has been staring all night. All I have to do is switch on the Winchester charm, buy her a drink, and she’d happily follow me back to the motel. Y/N is getting some action tonight so why can’t I?

I look over to Sam. He’s pissed and still easily hustling a game of pool. With him doing his own thing, I approach the blonde, smiling and signalling the bartender for a drink. Tonight, I just need to get Y/N out of my mind.

Your POV You don’t even know this guy’s name as he rips your shirt over your head before pulling you into a kiss. You begin unbuttoning his shirt, ignoring his hands constantly squeezing your ass. You may be about to sleep together but he his one handsy dude. Making all sorts of groans, he leads you to the bed and pushes you back with more force than you were expecting. He’s swift, removing his pants and underwear till he’s in front of you in all his glory. Feeling the familiar throb from between your thighs, you quickly unclasp your bra before he leaps on top of you.

Clearly not one for foreplay, it isn’t long before he’s thrusting inside you. Judging from his moans, he’s clearly having a good time. That makes one of you. You close your eyes for a moment and when you open them, it’s not the suit on top of you- it’s Dean. He smiles at you. It’s infectious, as you begin to smile back. “Oh, Y/N…” he breathes, leaning down and kissing you passionately. “Oh…” you moan, catching yourself before saying his name. Because, unfortunately, this isn’t Dean. It’s a stranger. Meaningless.

He flops to your side, panting like a dog. “Well you sure know how to help a man blow off steam…” he says smugly, resting his hands behind his head. “Mmhmm” is you response, you feign enjoyment. Not wanting to have an awkward chat, you roll over to go to to sleep. Your dreams consist of you and Dean in various states of undress.

Dean’s POV The chick from the bar was fun. But she wasn’t Y/N. How I wish it could be her next to me, exhausted from a night of wild sex. I wish I could turn over and pull her closer. Breathe in her sweet apple scent from her shampoo she loves so much. Stare into her Y/E/C eyes and lose myself in them. But I know I can’t. Not only is Y/N not next to me, she’s next to another man right now in the room next door. Probably happy. Not torn up inside with feelings for her best friend.

Your POV Rolling onto your back, you feel a harsh white light shining on your closed eyes. Morning already? You wince as your eyes slowly open. Nope! That light is too bright when you have a hangover. Scooting yourself off the bed, you shuffle to the window to close the curtain, eyes still closed. You fumble around for the thin drapes but all you feel is the smooth wall. That’s odd. You rub your eyes, preparing yourself to open them.

White. That’s the only way to describe the room you find yourself in. The bed, the walls, the light. Everything is white. You’re even wearing a white t-shirt and pants. Opposite your bed is another room, the exact mirror of yours. The only thing separating them is a red line across the floor, up the walls and along the roof. It splits the space in half. Panic rising in your chest, you sit back on the bed and breathe slowly. The last thing you need right now is a panic attack.

Suddenly the door of the opposite room swings open. A man is pushed in onto his knees wearing a similar outfit to yours. He looks up for a moment, green eyes full of fear. “Dean!” you shout, rushing over to him. As you reach the red line, you feel something solid smack you in the face, bouncing your entire body backwards. You try again, only to feel an invisible wall stopping you. “Dean!” you yell again, smacking the solid air.

The door opens again. Two men in white scrubs with surgical masks covering their faces enter Dean’s side of the room. Everything about their appearance is unsettling. They stop either side of Dean like sinister guards. In unison, they throw punch after punch at Dean, his blood spattering the white surroundings. You scream in horror, punching the clear wall in a futile attempt to break through. They continue their onslaught of punches and kicks, over and over and over again, turning Dean into a bloody pulp. Blood has splashed onto the clear wall, dripping onto the floor. Your side of the room remains clean. Like sadistic clockwork figures, they both stop, pick up Dean by his arms and drag his lifeless body out of the room, leaving a bloody trail.

Sobbing, you drop to the floor, still seeing the bloody mess when you close your eyes. All of a sudden, you feel drowsy. “Dean…” you sniff one final time before slumping to the floor unconscious.

??? POV “Interesting,” says the doctor before scribbling something on his clipboard. He pushes his glasses up his greasy nose before observing some more. “This is quite the emotional reaction, wouldn’t you agree?” he directs to me. “Yes, quite.” I respond. The girl falls to the ground, crying like a baby. “Initiate the serum. Sleeping Beauty needs her rest after what she’s seen.” The doctor complies, turning the dial on his control board. Almost instantaneously, the girl drops sleeping to the floor. “How soon can we move on to phase two?” “Well, we need to run a few more simulations first, get her used to things, but I’d estimate she’ll break in about a week’s time. Maybe less if we up the intensity.” I nod approvingly. Ma'am should be happy with these results. I turn to Stevenson, “Good job bringing her in chap!” “No problem sir, it was rather enjoyable.” He smiles, adjusting his red tie. “Good job everyone,” I raise my voice for the rest of the team “We’ll let her rest for 5 hours and resume testing then. In the mean time, every body take a break…”

Part 2

Published by @hillywooddestiel 01/07/17

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean and reader #SPN #angst #Sam Winchester #fanfic #reader insert #walls #hillywooddestiel

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thecrappyauthor · 7 years

Text

Endless - Part 3

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, depression, swearing

Summary: Dan is juggling depression, anxiety, eating problems, and abuse. His world is a never ending gray cloud. At least it is until he meets Phil, a popular handsome boy who for some reason will not give up on getting to know Dan.

Author’s note: So this part took a number of months to write, sorry about that. However I’m on summer break now, so it will be much easier to find time to write. I am still very invested in writing this story, and am really enjoying writing it. I actually think about it a lot in terms of developing the plot and characters. Thank you to anyone who reads this chapter and I hope you enjoy! As always any and all feedback is appreciated.

Rating: M (Part 3 does not include smut)

Dan’s POV

I’d like to say that I was excited for tonight, even just a little bit. Excited to maybe possibly have a friend in this godforsaken school from hell. Excited to just have a relaxing movie night with a dare I say it attractive boy. But if I must be completely honest with myself…… I’m fucking terrified, for multiple reasons. First being that I barely even know Phil. For all I know I could be walking right into a serial killer’s house tonight and never be seen or heard from again, but then again would anyone notice? Second reason is that assuming Phil is as genuine a guy as he seems to be, then I’m going to make a complete pansy of myself in front of a potential b….. Friend a Fucking FRIEND is what I was going to say... I flipping hate horror movies, especially the ones about the fucking supernatural. Third reason tonight is going to be a complete and utter disaster is because I’m afraid of the goddamn dark. I can’t as well just tell this fucking Calvin Klein model that I am afraid of the dark and would gladly request to keep the lights on… I’ve made a twat of myself already as it is. In all honesty Phil seems like the first genuine guy I've met in a while and I don’t want to mess this up.

Second day of school starts now. I huffed out a long breath of air and took a swig of coffee. When I closed the locker door I was greeted by Anyas face looking up at me. One of her eyebrows was raised and her gaze shifted up to meet mine. I took another swig from my cup with a raised eyebrow of my own.

“So, could I ask you why you wanted to go to the roof yesterday or no?”

I choked on my coffee. “Ok sorry, point taken, you don’t wanna talk about it that’s fine.” She looked up at me concerned grey eyes focused on mine. I couldn’t stop coughing. I hadn’t even asked Phil what he wanted to talk to me about!

“No!” I choked out, “ I….It’s fine, I just remembered something…… I was supposed to meet him on the roof after school… but I never made it there.”

“Who were you supposed to meet?” My stomach turned as my thoughts began to race again. What was it that Phil wanted to talk to me about?

“D...don’t worry about it. Sorry, I’m just thinking out loud.” She looked at me as if she was trying to decipher a foreign alphabet.

“Ok… well then I’ll see you in music later ok Chopin?” Her voice perked up and her smile returned.

“Y….yeah.. see you.” with that she turned quickly and began walking to class, her braid swinging around on her back as she spun. I watched her walk away still lost in my own thoughts. Tonight is going to be an absolute disaster. I am going to have a panic attack if I keep up with this level of anxiety. Phil is a nice guy, and he wouldn’t intentionally hurt you for any reason. But then again that is what I used to think of my dad. A shiver ran up my spine and I shook my head to try to get out of my consuming thoughts. Phil is different.

I walked into the algebra room in a complete daze. Somehow I ended up in my seat at the back the class. I leaned back in my chair, shut my eyes, and let out a long sigh. I tried my best to clear my thoughts so I’d be able to semi-focus on the schoolwork. The footsteps of the students walking in echoed in my head, and their voices sounded far far away. I forget sometimes that I didn’t always have so much anxiety. I wasn’t always this shy either, in fact I used to be pretty extroverted. I had a nice friend group, and people actually talked to me. All of that changed right after mom passed. I stopped talking, I started dressing different, and I receded into my own shell. People stopped talking to me, and my dad started to get angry.

“Good morning Dan.” The familiar voice echoed in my head, it was Phil. I opened my eyes and leaned forward in my chair.

“Uh… g...good morning.” Jesus christ Dan, get your words together at least. Phil walked over and sat in his seat next to mine. He gave me a concerned look and leaned forward a little in his chair.

“Are you feeling alright Dan?” I looked an utter wreck do to sleep deprivation… Thank you anxiety.

“Yeah I…..”

“Heyy if it ain’t the little runt from yesterday!” My eyes snapped onto the figure walking through the doorway, it was the boy Heath from the day before. He’s the guy that was defending Klein like a guard dog. He shuffled closer, I averted my eyes to the floor.

“I don’t think I quite caught your name before.” His footsteps got closer until I saw his shadow towering over my desk. I didn’t dare look up so I focused my gaze on his right hand.

“Hey, little runt I’m talking to you.” Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder and I flinched harshly in my seat. A shiver ran up and down on my spine as I felt him tighten his grip. Then, I watched as slim fingers wrapped around his wrist, and then he was yanked backwards.

“Leave him alone Heath, class is about to start.” Phil’s voice said firmly. Heath glanced back at me and then sat down in his seat next to Phil. Luckily he stayed quiet for the rest of class, meanwhile I got a concerned glance from Phil every five minutes or so. I was lucky a guy like him had decided I was worth sticking up for.

After algebra was music, and luckily it went by quickly, mostly because I was talking to Anya about Phil. She had asked me why I looked so tired and I figured if I was going to tell anyone, I felt most comfortable talking to her.. She told me that I shouldn't worry, Phil seemed like a genuine guy, and he never failed to be kind to her or other students. This eased my thoughts a little, I don't know why but I trust Anya, something about her almost seems familiar.

When music had ended I found myself in the english room, and what I didn't notice yesterday was that both Heath and Klein are in that class. It was just my luck that I was assigned to sit right next to Klein. I slowly moved over to my seat and sat down next to the boy with the snakebites.

“Long time no see brat.” His head was turned towards me, lips pulled back in a sickening grin.

“Daniel is what you’re called huh? Cute name for a little bitch.” I hung my head down letting my hair fall over my eyes. I gripped the desk until my knuckles were white, I wasn't angry, but my hands were shaking from the anxiety. I needed a way to hide the fact I was quaking like a complete wuss. “You know you really need to learn to look at people in the eyes when they talk to you, or at least not completely ignore them…. Maybe I could help teach you to have some respect.” He talked slow and his voice was gravely. I felt his body get closer when he leaned forward. I expected him to say something else to me, something degrading or possessive, but instead he just let out an ominous chuckle close to my ear. I felt his breath skim my neck and I jumped instinctively. “Huh… someone’s a little sensitive are we?”

“Ok class, now that we are all in our seats I ask that you all pay attention. Klein and Faye if you could please face forward, and David the phone should be away.” I’ve never been happier to hear a teacher in my life. Thank you Mr. Currall. He made eye contact with me and gave me a slight nod. I glanced around the room kind of unsure how to react. “Today, we start with our first lesson, so everyone get out your notebooks and a writing utensil, and we’ll begin the notes.” With scattered groans and complaints we began copying the slideshow off the board. After that, the class went by quick, Klein kept to his seat, and seemed pretty focused on his writing. Finally the end bell rang and as I stood up from my seat to leave I heard a voice call my name. “Dan, could I speak to you for a moment before you leave?” It was Mr. Currall, fucking perfect.

“Yeah… Yes, what is it sir?” I stumbled on my words like usual.

“Would you like me to switch your seat for the semester?”

“Oh….. um… I….”

“Don’t overthink it Dan, if you would like to switch seats I won’t ask questions, just a yes or a no.”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

“Yup, have a nice day then.”

“You too.” I walked out of the classroom and into the crowded hall. He must’ve seen me cowering away from Klein at my desk. I let out a relieved breath, thank god I won’t have to sit next to him anymore.

Little did I know then that he’ll end up sitting diagonally from me next period in history anyway, just my freaking luck. However Phil was also in my history class, Klein and Heath seemed to back off a little more when he was around, it also helped that Phil spent most of that class watching them, and keeping a worried eye on me. What the hell is even happening anymore? It’s my second damn day of school and I already feel so stressed.

The rest of my classes were boring and slow, long lectures and note taking had me exhausted. Klein and Heath didn’t give me any more trouble throughout the day, and I was very grateful. I spent lunch alone on the roof, I was pleasantly surprised when I found out it was left unlocked just like in all those animes. However there weren’t any aesthetic cherry blossom petals or shoujo heroine wind that blows your hair around dramatically. Just the dark grey sky above looking down on the barren trees and bleak emptiness which was the roof. I decided I’d spend my lunch period there for the rest of the year, where it was peaceful and safe.

I threw myself on my bed when I got home and let out a long sigh. This day was already unbearably long, and I didn’t even leave for Phil’s house yet. By this point I was exhausted, and could feel myself drifting off into sleep. The last thing I remember before sleeping was the thought that maybe this night could be fun.

Phil’s POV

Finally after six long hours the school day had ended. It felt like an eternity in hell to be quite honest. I talked to Dan in our classes together, but he seemed to be more on edge than he was yesterday. Which was understandable due to Klein and Heath watching him like hawks. Hopefully he wasn't having second thoughts.

I was lying in bed at about 4:30 when I shot him my first text.

To: Dan

Hey it’s Phil, was wondering if you were still down for the movie tonight?

To: Dan

It’s fine if you’re not……. But there will be pizza…..

What have I come to? I’m literally trying to lure a boy into my house with pizza. No wonder he’s scared of me Jesus. I’m that guy every mom warns their child to stay away from. I watched my clock on the side table as the minutes ticked by. I gave him my address during photography and all the details. He should be here around six, but it’s starting to be unlikely that he’ll show. He seemed uneasy towards the whole idea when we talked. I really hope that he doesn’t change his mind.

I had closed my eyes for what I thought was just a moment when I suddenly woke up to a light knocking sound on my door. I opened my eyes groggily, my vision blurry.

“Uh…. Phil?” A voice spoke warily from the other side of the door. I glanced over at the time on my clock. 6:09. “Your mom let me in, she told me you were up here.” Oh shit it’s Dan! I scrambled out of my bed falling onto the floor with a loud thump. I got to my feet and grabbed the doorknob with one hand and swung the door open.

Dans eyes were wide with surprise, and his fist raised in front of him. I guess I stopped him in the process of knocking. Then, he raised his hand up to the back of his neck and rubbed nervously, rocking once back and forth on his heels. He looked down but I still saw the tint of pink on his cheeks he was trying to hide from me.

“Hey, I’m so sorry I must’ve fallen asleep. You weren’t waiting long were you?” The words fell loosely off my lips, I wasn’t entirely awake or aware yet.

“It’s okay, I just got here.”

“Okay good, well then come on in.” I stepped to the side and gestured my hand to the room. Dan looked up at me briefly and took a hesitant step in. I don’t remember being aware of much at this point, but I do remember being aware of how lost I had gotten in his chocolate eyes right then. I had zoned out on them for who knows how long.

“Ph...Phil?”

“Huh? Oh sorry… uh you can sit on the bed, sorry if it’s weird or something but it’s the only furniture I’ve got in here besides the desk chair.” Dan looked at me blankly for a second before sitting down hesitantly on the edge of the bed. “So, I’ll get the order in for pizza, what do you like?” I gave Dan my most welcoming smile. He shook his head slightly and blinked quickly before responding like he was trying to push a thought out of his head. What was he just thinking?

“Anything is fine with me.”

“Well personally I like hawaiian pizza… like pineapple and ham and instead of tomato sauce there's barbeque.” I spoke quickly, to be honest I was nervous too.

“Ok. I was wrong anything is not fine with me…. Pineapple on pizza? What the flippin’ heck is wrong with you?”

“Wha… It’s good!” My voice got high pitched in defense. “H..have you ever even tried it?”

“No, because it’s weird! Next thing you’re going to tell me is that you eat ranch dressing on your pizza too.” well that’s awkward.

“I kinda do.”

Dan looked at me with the most deadpanned expression I’ve ever seen.

“What the actual hell is wrong with you.” Silence filled the air as we just stared at each other straight faced. Then his lip quivered slightly and the corners of his mouth began to widen. Soon enough we were both laughing hysterically. His brown eyes crinkled up and his mouth opened wide. The sound he made came from his chest, and it was loud, but nonetheless it was fantastic. It came from a place of pure joy, like a carefree child.

“Will you at least try it?” I asked still giggling a little, smile wide across my face.

“.......Alright whatever.” He said with an eyeroll, a grin still visible on his lips.

After that I stepped out into the hallway telling Dan I was ordering the food. This of course was true but I also needed a few minutes to appreciate what I just experienced. His expression when he laughed was nothing but pure. He usually wore a sad frown or scared eyes, but this time he wore a bright smile and had eyes that basically emitted light. All I knew was that I wanted to see it again. I prayed to god I would see it again, and it takes a lot to pray to a god you don't believe in.

I stepped back into the room, finding Dan sitting on the edge of the bed looking down at his hands. Not a trace of the smile still lingered on his face, instead he moved his fingers nervously and looked up at me.

“Pizza is on the way.” I said with a smile on my way over to the tv. I took the DVD out of the case and inserted it in the DVD player. Then I turned on the tv and grabbed the remote.

“You ready to watch?” I said as I made my way over to the bed where he sat.

“I guess.” His response lacked enthusiasm, and overall emotion in general. I climbed onto the bed and propped my long body pillow against the headboard. I leaned my back into the pillow and looked over at Dan who still sat awkwardly at the edge of the bed. I smiled warmly his way hoping to calm him a bit. He slowly moved next to me and leaned his back against the pillow. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye and hugged his knees into his chest. I reached over to the lamp on my side table next to me and stopped with my hand hovering next to the switch. Maybe keeping the lights on would be a better idea, I'm sure Dan would feel more comfortable with them on. I pulled my hand back and felt a shift in the bed. Dan had tensed up when I reached for the switch, and just now when I pulled away he relaxed. Good, I praised myself for my decision. I grabbed the remote from my side and pressed play.

The movie started off with two girls having a typical sleepover, the perfect setting for any horror movie. Having already seen the movie before it was getting hard for me to pay attention. I glanced over at Dan who was still curled up in a ball. If circumstances were different I'd say he looked cute. It would be bad to think he looked cute when he was uncomfortable and terrified right? Just then I heard the sound on the TV jump and Dan let out a fairly loud whimper. His eyes shut tight instinctively and his body tense. To hell with that, he was freaking adorable. That sound he made sounded so small it was kind of …… no Phil that's bad. My gaze was stuck on Dan’s face, his eyes slowly opened again and he looked at me out of the corner of his eye. Then his head shot down and he stared at his knees, once again failing to conceal the pink that crept on his cheeks.

“Shut up.” He whispered pitifully. I could tell he was frustrated.

“But I didn't…”

“Yeah but you were thinking it.” He cut in quickly, his voice trailing off at the end.

“I knew it was coming, that's why I didn't jump.. but man you should've seen me the first time.” I tried to comfort him a little, but I don't think it worked.

“Yeah, whatever let's just watch.” He said sounding a little calmer, maybe it was almost playful? He settled himself in again, and nuzzled his chin back on his knees.

After the initial jump scare the movie gave some time to calm down and instill a feeling of false security. Once again I found it hard to focus my attention on the movie. I glanced at Dan a lot, I couldn't help watching the reflection of the movie in his eyes. His feathery brown hair was strewn about his face and forehead. I watched his long eyelashes as he blinked slowly, his brown eyes fixated on the screen. It was entrancing just sitting here watching him. I focused my eyes back on the TV and let out a hopefully inaudible sigh. I was being a total creep.

I spent the next twenty or so minutes watching the movie. We made it to the part with the tape, and I forgot how unsettling it is. Black and white images of severed fingers, a burning tree, and a woman wearing white who stares at you for too long. The TV also emitted an awful ringing noise that makes your hair stand on end. I began to shift slightly when a picture of maggots appeared all squirming and wriggling about danced on the screen. They then turned into people, bodies clawing and thrashing around in a pile. The ringing of the video suddenly turned into screams in my head. I glanced over at Dan to make sure he was ok. His body was tense and his eyes were blown wide. That’s when the doorbell rang.

I felt my body jump and I let out a small yelping sound, but I’d like to think it was too quiet to hear over Dan. He also jumped a mile, and let out a long string of curses. When I had jumped I had instinctively moved closer to Dan, accidentally making it so there were only a few inches of space between us.

“Jesus, that must be the pizza.” I said as I paused the movie with the remote. “You good up here if I go downstairs and get it?” I asked Dan, looking straight into his eyes, which were unusually close to mine. So close I could see flecks of golden brown like autumn leaves. His smell overcame my senses. Something beach like, and kind of like trees. The best way to describe his scent was simply that he smelled like warm. He looked very on edge. To be fair I probably looked the same due to that unexpected pizza jump scare. I smiled to try to comfort Dan a little, while also trying to settle my own nerves. He looked at me in the eyes, and then his cheeks flushed, and he leaned back quickly. This creating distance between us once again, and to be honest I felt like there was an absence of something now. His close presence was gone, and left an empty feeling in the air. He nodded in response to my earlier question, so I climbed out of bed and opened my door. I glanced one more time his way before noticing his head whip up to look at me.

“What is that sound?” He said with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Huh?” I sat still and listened but everything sounded alright to me. I could hear my mom talking to the pizza guy, and the sound of their tv downstairs making noise. Then I realized what he meant. Buffy was at the bottom of the stairs barking at the stranger at the front door.

“Oh, you mean the dog? Yeah, she’s kind of annoying I know, she never stops barking. Literally every person who walks by the house.” I said said scratching my head nervously, hopefully he isn’t allergic to dogs or anything. Dan’s expression lit up suddenly, and I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Um, do you like dogs?” I said hesitantly, scared to say the wrong thing and have that expression go away.

“Yeah I do, a lot.” he said nodding slowly.

“Thats cool, do you have any?” as soon as I asked I regretted it. Dan’s happy expression altered to one that looked disappointed. He shook his head once from side to side.

“I used to.” He looked down at his lap with eyes full of pain, and in that moment I wanted nothing more than to make it stop.

“Phil honey, come down and get your food!” I snapped out of my daze, I had been so focused on Dan I forgot what I got up to do.

“I….. I’ll be right back.” Those words were my first selfish act that night. I should’ve asked if he was okay or wanted to talk about something else, but instead I ran. I left because I didn’t know what to say or how to fix it. I left because I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing those broken eyes for another moment.

After I made it back up the stairs with the pizza I went to open the door but noticed it was already open. Then I realized that there was an amazingly familiar sound resonating through the upstairs. Dan was laughing. A very loud and happy sound, I’m surprised I hadn’t heard it before. I stepped into my bedroom to find Dan lying on his back on the bed smile wide and laugh bellowing. Buffy was standing on his chest licking his face. I would’ve been concerned about Buffy crushing Dan’s skinny body if it weren’t for his obvious joy. The brown haired boy didn’t seem to notice me, so yes, I stood and watched him laugh like a stalker. Dan looked like a little boy. I took another step to see better but as soon as I did the floor creaked and Dan’s head snapped over to look at me, and so did Buffy’s. They both looked extremely guilty like I caught them stealing my stuff or something. Dan sat up and looked at me, his hair was a mess, and his red face glistened with dog slobber. He let out another small giggle as he wiped his face with his arm. He kept with a half smirk on his face, hair tousled and cheeks flushed most likely from being crushed.

“S...sorry about Buffy.” I let out a nervous laugh in between words. “ She doesn’t know the concept of personal space.”

“No… She’s fine, she’s not bothering me………….Actually uh, do you think she could stay?” He looked up at me with almost pleading eyes. How am I supposed to say no to that?

“Sure.” I said tilting my head and smiling brightly. To my surprise, Dan gave a half smile back.

“Ok, scooch I need to put this stuff down, my arms are killing me.”

“Oh… sorry.” Dan moved back up to where he sat before, back against the pillow and legs crossed pretzel style. On the pizza box I had balanced two glasses with ice, plates, napkins, and two bottles of water. I called Buffy off the bed and carefully placed the box down. I sat down in my spot next to dan and picked up the glasses.

“Would you mind holding these for a second?” Dan nodded as he took the glasses from me. Our hands touched when he grabbed the glasses, and I felt him jump slightly. I pretended like I hadn’t noticed it as I pushed all the other stuff off the box and opened it. Why was he so afraid of physical touch? Something as simple as him accidentally touching my finger made him flinch. I was starting to sense something was very wrong. Maybe he wasn’t just anxious, maybe there was a reason bigger than what I was understanding. I decided from then on that I would pay more attention to things when I came to Dan.

I fixed us both a plate and then traded dan’s plate for the two glasses. I placed them on the pizza box and filled them with water. I hadn’t asked what he wanted to drink so I just grabbed what I had in the fridge. He didn’t seem to mind, as when I finished pouring the glasses he gulped half of his down. I guess I should’ve offered him a drink when he got here, he must've been too nervous to ask me. He pulled the glass away from his mouth and licked the remaining liquid from his lips. Don’t watch him like a perv Phil, just eat your damn pizza.

“Are y…. Is everything ok?” I heard Dan’s soft voice next to me. I looked over and met his concerned eyes with mine. When I looked at him his breath caught, but I don’t think it was in a good way. Then I became eminently aware of the scowl I was wearing on my face, and began to vaguely recall sighing when I turned away from Dan.

“Oh! …...y yes sorry everything is fine. I was just deep in thought is all. I have an awful case of RBF.” I rubbed the back of my neck nervously and smiled at him. “What do you say we keep going with the movie?” Dan nodded at me and picked up his pizza. I played the movie and picked up mine.

For the next 20 minutes Dan and I ravaged the food like vultures. Honestly I don’t think either of us were paying much attention to the movie.

“So your dog’s name is Buffy.” Dan said as more of a statement than a question. He had a mouth full of pizza and kept his eyes on the screen. “Like the vampire slayer?” He then turned to look at me swallowing the food in his mouth. Crap, he’s going to find out that I’m actually a helpless dork.

“......Maybe.” I took a nervous sip of water and looked at him sheepishly out of the corner of my eye. Dan just looked at me and chuckled. I choked a little on my water. “Ok before you judge me for my Buffy obsession don’t think I didn’t notice your Attack on Titan jumper.” This time it was Dan who choked on his drink.

“I… I didn’t think you were into anime.”

“Yup, but i’m closet fan so don’t tell.” I said grinning. “And don’t look in the wardrobe either that’s where I keep the sexy body pillows.” He chuckled and shook his head, smiling down at his plate. I watched as his smirk slowly faded into a more blank expression as he looked up and seemed to focus back on the movie. The reflection of the screen in his eyes made them dance with beautiful colors, framed in long black lashes. I looked down at his plate and at mine. We ate the entire 8 slice pizza. I’m pretty sure I had three which means Dan ate a whole five slices, which was hard to believe based on his skinny frame. He also devoured it quickly like he hadn’t eaten in days. I picked up our plates and put them in the empty box along with the water bottles. Then I grabbed the glasses and placed them on my side table. I smiled, looking back up at Dan. He liked the pineapple pizza, even though he was so skeptical about it before. He also didn’t admit to me that he liked it, stubborn kid. Dan glanced over at me and caught me staring at him with the most embarrassing smile on my face. He must’ve felt my eyes on him. Alright Phil, that is enough of creepily watching Dan, you need to pull yourself together. I called Buffy on the bed, and she laid down right between Dan and I. I reached out and stroked along her back. I got her the summer before my freshman year at a kennel nearby. I originally went there to get a husky, but the people at the kennel told me they had a German Shepherd puppy that was sick, and likely to die without proper care. The kennel didn’t want to waste the money on helping it if it were easier to just bring in another dog. It was one less dog that they had to put down. When I saw her there in the cage I knew I had to do something. Everyone was about to give up on her, and I understood the pain of feeling like you’re not enough. All these feelings were probably too complex for a dog to feel, but I felt for her nonetheless. So I begged my parents for the sick german shepherd puppy instead, and here she is. Many years and vet visits later, and she is perfectly healthy. She’s been my best friend ever since. At the moment she lied between Dan and I, her head nuzzled in behind Dan. I turned to the movie and finally was able to focus on it.

We watched the movie for what seemed like hours. With each jump scare or creepy moment Dan moved just a tad bit closer. However he could only get so close with Buffy sat right in between us. Also as the movie continued we both naturally began to slide down the bed until we were both basically lying down. Every time the music picked up or spiked Dan would let out a different sort of yelp. Sometimes he got mad at me for giggling and crossed his arms like an angry child, and other times he just glanced at me sheepishly then looked away. I had to admit that he was cute, like adorably cute, but it’s important that we stay friends at least for now, because I believe a friend is what Dan needs most. I frowned slightly and looked up at the ceiling. I have to focus simply on making a friend, and being a good one to him.

Finally the movie ended, and although I didn’t pay the most attention to it, I didn’t want it to be over yet. I had become fond of the funny yelps that Dan let out, and our back and forth banter about who was more scared. Dan was funny when he was angry, he just looked like a little boy who got told no. Same as when he laughs. But then when he is serious and quiet, it looks like he thinks with a mind well beyond his years. The screen went to black and I looked over to Dan, who had been awfully quiet considering the end was pretty scary.

Then I had realized why, he had fallen asleep who knows how long ago. He laid there silent and peaceful on his side. One of his arms was wrapped around Buffy, who was asleep pressed up against Dan’s chest. His brown hair looked so soft, laid lightly on his face. I watched his chest move up and down slowly as he breathed. He looked so peaceful, and so perfect. He looked like he belonged there, snuggling closely with buffy, breathing slow and hair tousled. I couldn’t wake him up. Not yet.

I carefully picked up the pizza box and balanced the glasses on top of it. I quietly tiptoed out of the room as to not wake up sleeping beauty over there. Honestly how can someone look so perfect when asleep I mean really. I’m glad this isn’t the other way around because I’d probably drool all over myself. I brought the pizza box downstairs and placed it on the counter, and put the glasses in the sink. He fell asleep. Dan fell asleep in my bed, snuggling my dog. In a way I was kind of happy he felt safe enough to fall asleep in my presence. Or maybe he was just REALLY tired. I decided to go with the latter.

I walked back up the stairs to my room and just looked at Dan from the doorway. I contemplated waking him up, but I figured I’d let him sleep awhile. It should only be about eight, maybe eight thirty. Hopefully there wasn’t a certain time his parents were expecting him home. I let out a sigh as I was about to close the door, but then I caught my eye on something. Dans sleeve had been pushed up a little on his arm revealing the skin on his wrist. A part of his wrist looked dark, like a bruise, but I couldn’t see clearly, his sleeve was in the way. Oh god Phil are we really gonna do this? I walked quietly back into the room and stood over the bed. Luckily since this is my room, I know where all the creaks in the floor are and was able to avoid them. I could see more clearly the mark on his wrist that was poking out from under his jumper. It was definitely a bruise. I reached out and froze with my hand hovering over his arm. Then I took a deep breath and lifted his sleeve slowly. It felt wrong, but I had to know. As I lifted the material carefully my breath caught and I held it. I had lifted the sleeve up to his elbow and already I could see at least three different bruises. What the hell happened to him. It wasn’t my place yet to ask him, it was never my place to even check in the first place. But now that I saw this I knew I wasn’t going to be able to let it go, but for now i’ll have to keep it to myself. He can’t know I was messing with him when he trusted me enough to fall asleep with me here. I carefully pulled his sleeve back down so all his bruises were covered again, this time with slightly shakier hands. I felt a flood of emotions, fear, anger, sadness. I backed away from the bed and out of the room. I left with the door just a crack open, and sat on the top step.

I sat on the stairs thinking for almost an hour. Was there a time that Klein got to him when I wasn’t there? Or is that not the right Idea at all. Maybe he plays volleyball or something, and I’m just overreacting. I shouldn’t have looked anyway, it wasn’t my business. But I can’t help but feel nervous. I decided to keep a closer eye on him than before, and if I happened to see anymore bruises to ask him about it then. For now I’ll keep my mouth shut. I stood up from my spot on the stairs and stepped into the bathroom. I flicked on the light and stood in front of the mirror and looked myself in the eyes. It’s not even my place to worry about him this much. I mean I only met the guy yesterday. Yeah we talked, and I stopped some assholes from beating him up, but that doesn’t mean I get the right to mess with him when he’s asleep just because i’m curious. I let out a long sigh and then turned the sink on. I’ll get ready for bed and then wake him up. Honestly I wouldn’t mind if he stayed there all night curled up with Buffy, sleeping soundly. Honestly today he looked like he needed the sleep, but I don’t want to get him in trouble with his parents or anything. I finished washing my face in the sink, and then took my contacts out. I put them safely in their case and put on my stereotypical pair of nerd glasses. Why must I be cursed with this depressingly poor vision. I opened the mirror and took my toothbrush out and squeezed some toothpaste on the bristles. Just as I put the toothbrush in my mouth and started brushing I heard a creak on my left. I jumped, at the unexpected sound and turned quickly, toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. Dan stood in the doorway, looking more disheveled then I did. His hair was tousled and sticking up in places, and he used both his hands to rub over his tired eyes. Then he looked up and our eyes met, and I felt my cheeks heat up. Dan then looked a little surprised and turned his face away. His cheeks were red.

“I um…. I’m sorry for falling asleep.” He leaned his hip against the doorframe and fiddled with his jumper sleeve.

“das ok.” I said suddenly remembering I have a mouth full of toothpaste and a toothbrush hanging out my mouth. When I spoke some toothpaste dribbled from my lip and I leaned over the sink and spit it all out. Jesus I’m a mess.

“Aagh sorry about that. Don’t worry about falling asleep, I was about to wake you up when I was done. Wasn’t sure If there was a certain time your parents wanted you home.” Dan shook his head. We stood in silence for a moment. I stared at him, and he stared down still fumbling with his sleeves. I leaned backwards and rested my butt on the counter, and leaned back slightly on my hands.

“Ph...Phil.” Dan stuttered out looking more nervous by the second.

“What’s up.” I replied calmly, hoping to ease his nerves.

“W… What was it that you wanted to talk about..o...on the roof.” Oh, I completely forgot about that, please don’t tell me that’s what he’s so worried about.

“Oh, Dan that wasn’t that important. I just wanted to talk about what I saw in music class. I mean your playing was absolutely amazing. And I well…. I wanted to know if you were alright too. I don’t think anyone else saw, but I noticed you crying when you played…... b…..because if you were nervous because of the people I could teach you a few tricks to make them seem not so scary. I mean my mom always said to picture them all in their underwear, but that is just something that would scar me for life so what always works for me is-”

“Phil it’s fine, that’s not why I was crying.”

“Oh, sorry.” I apologized realizing I was being too pushy. Dan just nodded at me and we stood in silence once more. “I.. I also wanted to warn you too. Just because in Algebra I saw that Heath was giving you the stare down which meant he was likely to tell Klein. It just made me nervous is all.” I tried to search Dan’s eyes, but he hid them from me. “Do you have any other classes with them?”

“I uh….. Heath is in my Algebra, English, History, and gym classes, and Klein is in Music, English, History, Chemistry, and gym.”

“Ugh damn.” I sighed loudly, obviously frustrated. I looked up at the ceiling, deep in thought. I wasn’t even in half those classes. “Just uh…. Tell me if they give you any more trouble okay? Don’t hesitate to come and find me either.” Dan looked up at me and gave me a slight nod, which is better than nothing I guess. Than he took a step back out of the doorway.

“I, should probably go.”

“Uh, yeah sure.” I stepped out of the bathroom and walked Dan down the stairs to the front door. I felt myself wanting him to stay, and talk all night about anything. There was still so much I wanted to talk about, but I guess there’s no fun in learning everything at once. That would ruin the journey. I did enjoy my night, and I really hope he enjoyed his. “Thanks for coming Dan, I had fun, sorry about my psychotic clingy dog.” I opened the door and stepped to the side, watching as Dan walked out onto the porch and turned to look at me.

“Thanks for having me, I-” Dan stopped and looked down at his shoes. ”I..I had fun too.” He looked up and gave me a small smile, then turned and began walking down the steps. Although the view of him walking away was a nice one, I knew I already was not very fond of it.

“Oh and Dan.” I called out to him at which point he stopped and turned around to look at me. “Don’t let Samara get you when you sleep tonight.” I watched him nervously, hoping I didn't actually scare him too much. He stood silently on the step, features illuminated by the moon’s light. His hair was blowing delicately in the cool night breeze, with a peaceful silence in the air. He smirked and then rolled his eyes as he turned back around to the dark street. His quiet chuckle filled the night air.

“Piss off Lester.” He called out as he walked away, street light carving out his silhouette. I giggled quietly to myself as I closed the door.

Additional Author’s note: So fun fact about how Dan is supposed to smell. He smells like the yankee candle called Beach Wood, he said in one of his videos that it was his favorite candle and like a creep I then purchased it curious as to how it smells. Also I couldn’t figure out how to describe the smell so I literally laid on my couch for an hour sniffing this dang candle trying to think of good words to describe it..... the only word that my mind supplied me with was warm.. hence Phil’s odd description... also sorry mom for running around the house screaming about a candle that smells like warm.

#Phanfic #phanfiction #phandom #love #first fanfic #genre: romance #genre: fluff #genre: angst #endless #Endlessfic #phan

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quandqry-blog · 6 years

Text

Muse Sheet

Everything you need to know on Franklin Mendel/Quandary under the cut.

General Info

Full Name: Franklin Mendel

Name Origin: Franklin - liberally free-thinking (Middle English); Mendel - comforter, guardian (Yiddish)

Nickname: Frank/Frankie - self-explanatory, really; Mend-All - as one of the more...grounded associates, Franklin’s established himself as quite the handyman in Nygma’s ranks and a jack-of-all-trades, taking up various roles when required.

Alias: Quandary - a state of perplexion and uncertainty over what to do during a difficult decision, typically of a moral nature.

D.O.B.: 19/07/87

Place of Birth: The Bowery, Gotham City East, USA - the lowest of the low, the worst Gotham has to offer. Bordered to the north by Crime Alley, the Bowery is home to Crown Point, a smaller inner-district ridden with crime, homelessness and prostitution. Underdeveloped and laden with the circulation of illegal drugs, police activity is at a minimum within the Bowery, while independent gangs rule the streets.

Ethnicity: Sicilian - born to Sicilian immigrants, Franklin identifies strongly with his roots, identifying more with the culture and history he was born into than that of the US he was raised within.

Religion: Roman Catholic - he was raised as such by his parents up until adolescence, where he started to assume a more casual degree of practice. While he acknowledges the concept of Catholicism as part of his heritage, Franklin isn’t an especially strict follower of the teachings, and would likely be considered a lapsed Catholic by most.

Place of Residence: The Cauldron, Gotham Central, USA - known for it’s organised crime, the Cauldron was run by Mickey Sullivan and the Irish mob - a sub-organisation of assassins who operated beneath Falcone - until Holiday wiped them out during Thanksgiving. As a gesture of goodwill, the territory was transferred over to the Sabatino crime family, Gotham’s oldest Italian mob, where it developed a reputation for housing and producing the city’s most feared hitmen.

Brief Description of Home: Franklin rents a top floor apartment on the outskirts of the Cauldron, consisting of a general living area and a sorry excuse for a bathroom tucked behind the door. He’s made a few repairs here and there to ensure everything’s functioning, but, if it weren’t for the blanket over the sofa - no bed, you see - or the coffee pot by the window, you’d be hard-pressed to believe anyone was living there. It’s poorly lit, cast in dreary greys and browns, and you’d be able to cross from one side of the room to the other in about three steps. Hardly ideal, but, in terms of putting a roof over his head and a minor base of operations, it serves its purpose.

Brief Description of Local Area: Much like your typical Gothamite, Franklin’s desensitised to the morbid ways of life within the city. Murder, theft, folk going missing overnight - hell, the middle of the day - are so commonplace, they’re scarcely worth fussing over - and, when you consider just how brutal the Cauldron can be, well, everything’s scaled up to eleven. Paranoia runs rampant in the streets, with friends turning each other over to the mob for a hefty fee, and blood will be spilled over petty disputes. Still, it’s ideally situated for ease of access to other areas of Gotham, and the Stacked Deck’s a fairly decent watering hole, if you can stomach the clientele.

Current Occupation: Henchman - well, if we’re being official. It’s a fairly broad term, so he’s dabbled in his fair share of laundering, theft, murder, extortion, blackmail, getaway driving, etc. in his service to the Riddler.

Income Level: Ehhh, it’s flimsy at best. He doesn’t have a conventional job, so there’s no money being made in his name. Whatever he does earn with Nygma tends to be split ten ways with other crooks, and deposited into cliched we’re obviously criminals swag bags, so, you can bet he’s not seeing a dime of that from all the times he’s spent behind bars...Good job he’s low maintenance, huh?

Education Level: As an orphan growing up in the East End of Gotham, Franklin never had access to nor the opportunity for a formal education. He was sitting around the sixth grade when his parents died, but everything he learned from that point on came from a significant degree of self-learning. Rarely would you find the urchin without a book, lost within the depths of literature and the human psyche. And, street smarts sure go a long way.

Do They Drive?: You’ve heard the saying like a duck to water, yes? Well, Franklin’s got a knack for that sort of thing, being able to adapt and account for numerous setbacks in areas he’s barely familiar with. He’s got a Mercedes S63 Coupe from Johnny Sabatino, as a gesture of their friendship and familial ties, but he’s rarely ever found himself needing to drive, when the labyrinth of Gotham’s a much more efficient means of crossing the city. He’s not beyond taking up the role of getaway driver when required, though.

Sexual Orientation: Demisexual - while he’s not beyond acknowledging someone’s attractive and breaking into a sweat on the subway, Franklin predominantly experiences secondary sexual attraction, in that a foundation of trust and familiarity must be laid out before considering any partners. Unfortunately, this may come across as being fairly prudish, or not getting laid ‘enough’, but, for Frank, the attraction/appeal simply isn’t there until he’s made the connection, at which point, the notions become a tangible force.

Romantic Orientation: Aromantic - while the definition of aromantic varies between individuals, for Franklin, the concept of romance seems arbitrarily and inconsistently defined. It’s foreign territory, uncharted land. An entirely abstract notion. Now, he’s experienced passionate friendships which fall outwith typical ‘platonic’ boundaries, but the concept of romantic idealisation and elevating one person over another on account of some trivial feeling seems well and truly illogical. His love is based on practical conditions - constancy, loyalty, trust, action - not chemical highs and giddy emotions.

Physical Appearance

Height: 6′1″ [1.88m]

Weight: 187lbs [85kg]

Body Type: Franklin has a fairly lean, nimble physique - while proportionate and somewhat defined, he’s not especially athletic. Shoulders, chest, calves, quads - they’re all there, present, accounted for, but not to the extent of, say, a model or trainer. It’s a practical mass, gained through everyday labour and hardship, not the product of ego or vanity.

Eye Colour: Dark Green.

Hair Colour: Light Brown

Hair Style: Fairly short at the back and sides, with just enough heft to naturally quiff at the front.

Skin Tone: Light Olive - not as prominent as, say, other Sicilians, but definitively not white, either.

Prominent Features: He’s got an arrowhead-esque range of moles upon the head of the left deltoid, and a nasty scar on the inside of his bottom lip, courtesy of the Sabatino initiation process. A tattoo of his parents’ initials on the inside of his left ankle, and one at the base of spine - domando, Sicilian slang that combines the Italian for query and demand. A few scars and bruises here and there from the previous week’s scrapes, but nothing too permanent or long-term, ‘til next time.

Dress Style: In spite of his line of work, Franklin isn’t a flashy sort of guy - if anything, his wardrobe’s the goldilocks zone of comfort and practicality, while maintaining that dreary pseudo-noir Gotham aesthetic. Long sleeved sweaters, cotton shirts, military jackets, grey denim, contrast jumpers, shirt jackets, leather boots, etc. etc. Greys, browns, greens. Everything you’d expect from a mobster-turned-Riddler henchman.

Accessories: He wears a brown leather watch on his left wrist, and used to carry his mother’s engagement ring around on a silver chain, but pawned it off in his youth for petty change during an all-time-low.

Grooming: Besides a light stubble every now and again, Franklin’s fairly well-maintained - not to the point of excess, mind you, or devoting too much time to his appearance; mostly the I woke up like this, groggily ran a brush through my hair and voila! look. You know the type.

Speech and Language

Rate of Speech: Franklin has a fairly fast, almost erratic, means of communication. It stems from finding difficulty in making the connection between his thoughts, what he wants to say and actually saying it in a way you’ll understand. By extension, if he’s ever explaining something, he’ll typically make a conscious effort to slow down, to ensure you’re keeping up - it may come across as condescending at times, but, hey, you’ll know all about it if he is.

Accent/Dialect: He boasts a fairly prominent New Jersey dialect, with the trademark diphthong and underlying slur. On paper, coffee and chocolate become ‘caw-fee’/’chawk-let’, park and dark become ‘pah-k’/’dah-k’. He’s aware of the negative stereotypes surrounding the dialect the ‘lazy’ pronunciation of vowels and absence of r’s, but he’s not going to go out of his way to mask or distance himself from it. Far as he’s concerned, it’s part of who he is.

Tone: The tone of his voice is comfortably within the middle ranges, not especially high, nor particularly deep; somewhat rasped in the lower regions, heavily accented when caught in the moment. Rarely will you ever hear him raise his voice, either, for there’s a distinct sense of control and reservation at play - it’d be illogical for him to be saddled by emotion and impulse, so you’ll find he conducts himself with a calm, authoritative air.

General Speech Pattern: For the most part, Franklin’s just your everyday Gothamite - he may be in Nygma’s employ, but he’s not going to run around using flowery language, accusing everyone of being imbeciles, flaunting his intellectual superiority through antiquated words. He values words, he values meaning, so he can often come across as being fairly reserved in terms of interaction, for he's pretty damn selective in what he says, speaks only when there’s a point to be made or a conversation of value.

Mannerisms/Demeanour: In contrast to Nygma’s theatrical flamboyance, Franklin’s much more...reticent. It may be mistaken for a brooding, stoic disposition, but he’s much more sure of himself and his ability to get his point across without the grandeur Nygma so readily employs. He’s calm, cool, collected. Patient. Not so easily riled. Truth is, he often finds himself cringing when Nygma gets in the zone, since the whole ordeal’s so painfully obnoxious, but, hey, gig of the century.

Typical Posture: He’ll typically stand straight and proportioned, but not rigid. Circumstance may see him slouch a tad if he’s been lingering for a particular length of time, but, generally speaking, he’ll remain upright to the best of his ability.

Common Gestures: Franklin has a tendency to fold his arms so that each thumb rests under the bicep, while his fingers lightly tap upon the top. It’s not so much a sign he’s uncomfortable or anxious, more...a means of occupying himself, stimulating his mind and body, where it’s otherwise lacking. The occasional foot-tap makes an appearance, too.

Everyday Behaviour/Habits

Finances: As mentioned during the ‘income level’ section, every penny Franklin makes comes from his criminal activity with Nygma. There’s no need for him to be cautious or prudent with regards to his spending habits, for he spent so much of his life on the streets anyway that the concept of money seems pretty damn nonsensical. If he wants something, he can simply take it, for he’s already damned as far as a criminal record goes. Besides, he’s not exactly high maintenance - he’s pretty much living on microwave meals, take-outs, a few repair materials and strong black coffee.

Vices: Franklin’s partial to the odd glass or two of Amaretto, with a large bottle tucked away in his apartment. One’s kicking about somewhere in Nygma’s HQ, but its current whereabouts are, as yet, unknown. He’s also dabbled in weed from time to time, but nothing so extreme as to impair his judgement or performance. Nor does he bolster an addiction.

Daily Routine: It’s nigh impossible to map out a typical day for Franklin, since so much could change on the turn of a dime. He’ll roughly wake for around 8-9am, take a leak, brush up, etc. etc., keeping his phone nearby in the event Nygma calls, then grab breakfast on-the-go as he paces across Gotham to find intel of his own, people to extort, victims to test. Nygma’s not exactly running a criminal empire, so Franklin doesn’t need to be on his hands and knees 24/7 for him, he’s got a life outwith being a henchman. Having said that, should he not be required, he’ll be left with a significant amount of time to fill, prompting him to either make some repairs back home, check over everything at HQ, or take one of Nygma’s traps for a spin. Coming home, it’d be your standard washing away the blood of your victims, watching mostly-static over a microwave meal, then curling up on a ratty sofa with no remorse for the people he killed. Not his fault they didn’t have what it takes to survive. Clearly didn’t want to live enough.

Skills/Talents: Critical thinking; innovation; diplomatic; articulate; intuitive; adaptable; integrity; polyglot; mechanical engineering; woodwork; psycho-analysing; philosophical; light-footed; silk touch; quick-witted; driven.

Weaknesses: Franklin doesn’t do too well when it comes to being called out or contradicted - his thoughts essentially haze over, struggling to overcome the sudden obstacle, leaving him pretty damn stuped. While boasting a mean right hook, he’s also not the most skilled fighter, meaning he could easily go down if outnumbered or overpowered.

Hobbies: Woodwork; learning; geocaching; poker; hiking; orienteering; camping.

[More to add.]

#? Out of Retorts #[reference]

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gingerfiend117531-blog · 7 years

Link

Transcription 1

Hear No Evil

Voice: “Ictiva … Solus … Omishos.”

*From the darkness, a peculiar growth of noise percolates through the darkness, ethereal and unearthly*

*A voice fades in after the eerie and fairly random incantation…*

???: ... Finally got it working! I was afraid I’d have to ask Connor to look at this piece of junk... Suppose that’s what I get for renting a janky microphone from the library.

Now, if I just hit this button here… *Click goes the microphone* ???: Light’s flashing… oh wait. Damn. It totally just recorded that.

*Another Click*

(Irritated blowing of air between lips)

???: Once more. Get this thing done. Then, Ultra Violent Sisters with Panni. Breathe.

(??? Inhales, and then exhales exasperatedly)

*Adjusting sounds of a nozzle can be heard, followed by a Click, and then:*

*Silence*

???: … Nope. Nothing. Nothing is coming to me.

*Click*

???: Who wants to even listen to a weirdo talk about college in a parallel dimension. That’d just be dumb.

*Shifting and shuffling noises are heard as ??? fidgits*

???: Professor Ynori will probably think it’s stupid. But I mean; what else am I going to use trans dimensional communication magic for anyway?

*There is a beat, a pause in soliloquy*

???: Oh, Welcome back. … What? No, don’t worry Euphrates: I wasn’t recording. And even if I was, I put a charm on the microphone so it’ll only pick up sounds from me.

(??? Snorts in response to something Euphrates suggests)

???: No, I will pass on your help. I don’t want Ynori to get on your ass for helping me out with my personal project for my screw up.

*Silence, followed by ??? chuckling*

???: Yes: exactly. “Delphius is a huge wiener!” would totally match my ‘journal’s’ aesthetic… Anyway; what are you doing back so soon from practice?

*The audience now connects that ‘???’ is symbology to represent Delphius*

(The other individual who is almost certainly attractive, and is named Euphrates, responds in the absence of noise)

Delphius: Oh, I gotcha. I’ll just check these emails and then I’ll bounce so you can have some peace…

(Delphius murmurs the summaries of emails)

Delphius: Advocates for Pixie Justice… Meatloaf in the cafeteria for dinner… Overdue assign-

DUDE! Come on! Warn me before you take off your boxers!

(Pause, most likely a retort from Euphrates after an uncalled for outburst)

Delphius: It’s not so much the fact you’re naked in the room, as it is the fact that I don’t fancy seeing your junk. Or much less, anyone’s.

(Another cessation of speaking, perhaps the Roommate apologizing, until Delphius is heard again)

Delphius: No, I’m sorry to be a pest… Honestly I should just get over it.

(Glorious void of sound transcends all until once again broken by the Prude)

Delphius: Naw, thanks for understanding… But um… Can you keep that book covering your - Yes. Exactly. Just like that. Don’t move.

*He pauses*

Delphius: Beautiful. Now then.

*A click, not unlike the microphone’s but ever so slightly higher pitched is emitted*

(Again, Delphius is muttering under his breath, reading aloud Email-Titles.)

Delphius: Mortals of earth; hear me! I come to you with tidings of - That’s spam mail… Spam, spam, Nigerian Prince, spam…

*It is most certainly a mouse click that is heard*

(An instance of Euphrates potentially speaking to Delphius is indicated by lack of noise)

Delphius: Yuuup. Yeah, be careful. Looks like a weirdo email going around right now, probably has some kinda virus… Anyway, I’m going go to the study room to record; see you in awhile.

*Nothing can be heard for several minutes*

*A door closes, swinging on ancient hinges*

Delphius: Okee dokee. No naked tiger roommates, just me and a boring project. Let’s do this.

*A crescendo of silence overtakes the senses*

*Click*

Delphius: Hello and welcome to Scaldor’s Grant Academy and I’m going to talk about I wanttttt…. Aaaahhhhvvvvvvv…

*Raspberry in response to the word vomit*

Delphius: Muh. . . What should I even do for an opening? … Radio show hosts do not get enough credit for their eloquence…

*Distinct Inspiration of Respiration*

*Prominent Exhalation*

Delphius: Think ... Focus. Cheesy quote about inspiration… Onu, Sod, Sert…

Got it. Just… Think.

*A complete breath cycle*

Delphius: Divines. Guide my tongue. Unload my mind. Free my heart.

*An eternity seems to pass but in a moment before the familiar Click is sounded*

Delphius: Across a vast, yet transient gap in reality, the world of Splinter exists as a pocket between realms. And in this little pocket, a reclusive collegiate student is struggling to pass Magicks Class. And this is his attempt at doing so. Through remedial class projects.

*Pause*

Delphius: You are mortals. And we are the Fae. You also call us monsters, cryptids, fiends, demons, spirits, and a whole grocery list of other things. But no matter what you call us, we do exist. Just not on Earth. Not anymore, since humans discovered the Fae’s secret to magic.

(There is a flicker of doubt in Delphius’ voice)

Delphius: Do humans even know about magic… ?

I mean: I’m sure you’ve been introduced to the idea of magic. I don’t really know what humans do for their education on that topic. I’ll explain, just in case.

Anything and everything considered miraculous could be called ‘magic’. Eurasian seas being parted, summoning devils to grant you omniscience, finding your missing car keys on the first attempt. That sort of thing. That is what we would and should consider ‘magical’ in nature. Makes sense? No? We’ll try another time.

Now originally, we, the Fae, were the only ones with magic. But there’s a price that comes with such power. No free lunch syndrome, I’ve heard it called.

(Delphius scoffs, then resumes his rant)

Delphius: Being gifted with magic, we also were given a price; our free will.

Now, that doesn’t mean we can’t go to the supermarket whenever we please, or that we can’t worship the Divines as we like. Oh no. It’s something a little more devious and subtle.

Fae have True Names. As in, a secret name that, if a Mortal or other Fae Creature discovered it, we as an individual would be totally and entirely enslaved to the holder of our True Name. If they so chose to do so. Three guesses as to what human magi did that figured out these names? That’s right! You! The person staring at the glowing rectangle! Many Fae became the slaves of Mankind with this finding! *A clapping is heard, the noise as sarcastic as percussive noise can be made*

Delphius: With this discovery, our birthright of magic became our undoing. By binding Fae with their True Names, humans could finally use magic. Our magic. And a lot of us over on Splinter’s side are still very afraid of that possibility.

I don’t see it productive to be afraid, and totally blame mortals. I mean, I’m sure humans were in the right to fear humongous, terrifyingly ugly, and/or magic wielding creatures running around your neck of the woods. Frankly, I’d probably try to figure out how to get them to do what I’d want too. But all the same; the Fae of old knew that they were no longer welcome on Terra, or Earth as ‘y’all’ call it. So, we tore off a chunk of the realm of Terra, and with it, created Splinter, where the Fae have lived ever since.

*A moment of consideration brings about a break in monologue*

Delphius: Oh, and just so you humans don’t feel like you were cheated; each and every one of you has entirely free will. Sure, there may be a possibility you have true names, but even in any books on the subject, you can’t be bound by your soul to do some weirdo sadist’s biddings. Methinks that, instead, it has something to do with contracts … I dunno; probably not important. But it only makes sense that nothing in this universe is so clean cut. Which leads me to my next talking point.

There are scars from the the creation of Splinter, and the Gap, which is space in realms between Terra and Splinter. As the ‘Scar’ implies, it’s not a clean cut. There are still portions of our worlds that are connected. Probably for the best anyway; it’d probably mean oblivion for the Fae if we were entirely secluded, and cut off from Terra.

Butthese scars; the Fae call them Tethers. Tethers are points where both Splinter and Terra overlap, existing in the same time and space as each other. There are other weird properties about Tethers too, but short and sweet, that’s why humans see weird crap they can’t explain. Mostly.

(There is a sucking sound, as though Delphius is biting his lip in ponderation)

Delphius: It comes to my attention the idea of tethers may be too abstract from that description. Try this approach to try and understand Tethers:

they are Crystal Pillars. You can see through them but they also prevent the roof from falling down on your head.

(Delphius says nothing for a moment, evaluating his suggestion)

Delphius: ... On second thought, please try to erase that from your mind and draw whatever other conclusions you want to about Tethers. It is probably much more accurate.

(An obvious cough to serve as a weak diversion is performed)

Delphius: Crappy analogies aside, the next time you see flashing, unidentified lights randomly dancing around the sky? It’s probably some Splintarian Father playing Lazertag with his son. Mysterious footsteps in your attic? Probably a mage pacing around. Ghost finder app on your phone going nuts? … You should go get that checked out.

Did I mention that Lazertag is a professional sport here?

I will apologize for so suddenly bringing it up, but I do think I should make it clear: I only know a few things about lazertag because of my siblings. I do not ‘sport’ as many would say. So don’t ask me the details please. It gets complicated. *Word stew is chewed about in Delphius’ mouth before the thought continues*

Delphius: … I’ll be real with you; no school facts, just me facts. I don’t do much of anything. That’s how I like it. School is boring because I hate lecture, physical activity is too draining and involves too many people, and the only reason I am doing this remedial project is so I can eventually get credit for this magic class.

Now I know what you’re probably thinking. “Magic class?! Does this mean you are getting an education in the arcane arts at a center of learning that is similar to a magnificent and copyrighted academy of the mystical? How could you not be excited?!”

Yes, no, and quite simply are my answers, and in this order. I can try to explain my college some other time, but I assure you; if I actually get this recording approved, you’ll be disappointed. There are not many ‘whimsical’ things to discover in the eternal labyrinth in the basement. Far from it.

Really? School time means studying for biology, praying you get a pass on your English paper, and hoping that blob of brown goo you concocted in Homemaker’s Alchemy is not Caustic to skin.

So I’ll share the short story for now: Skalder’s University. It is one of the major magical universities of Splinter. I attend Skalder’s. Our mascot is a Toad so I am a Warter. So are my moms... they are Alumni.

*A distinct gurgling and gnashing of teeth can be heard, as well as an apprehensive “Hmmm…”*

Delphius: My friends, are Warters if they attend Skalders. Skalder’s is an ancient school, dusty old people and faculty: you’ll probably never see it because humans should stay out of Splinter. Because of previously mentioned issues and prejudices. *Bitter chuckling*

Delphius: So now here’s the kicker; why bother paying ludicrous amounts of drachma to attend a stuffy school that doesn’t even offer your major of interest? The instruments.

The incredible amount of thaumaturgical instruments available to students is astounding. With these tools, I can perform research on …

(A notable pause. Delphius seems hesitant to continue his statement, but relinquishes his thought)

Delphius: Research the mortal world. Which, in my eyes, seems so much more interesting than anything magic could offer.

(Deliberate silence meant for building suspense is shattered just as suddenly as appearing)

Delphius: I mean, think about it! Humans serve as the role models for our language and customs in Splinter. And we’ve taken so many ideas from you guys: and I want to just know more about you. And I can do that while I’m at Skalders. There’s not a chance at home cause I couldn’t afford the instruments or equipment. Heck; even if I could, I’d probably just waste my time with a hand down my pants watching Kitsune Frenzy Force Versus the Kappa Commandos.

Now I know this sounds like a bad idea, being so interested in humans while I’m a Fae being. But I assure you; I’m not planning on trading my voice to a sea witch or some weird deal like that. I think I’ve heard about a movie that goes like that, and I don’t fancy becoming seafoam. Or having a potential love interest become magically seducted. Been there, done that. Not fun, let me tell you...

(There is an uncomfortable tension in the air as a faint ringing, or buzzing sounds now permeates the broadcast)

Delphius: This is my interest, though. My thing. My vocation. I can feel it in my incredibly skinny bones. I want to know about humanity.To try and envision what it’d be like to have humanity instead of Faeship. I want to see what humans do with their free will; how they handle life’s problems without magic so readily available. Why they think like they do, what they think of magic.

Probably doesn’t sound exciting, but coming from someone who doesn’t even know his ancestral heritage, I find the idea exciting…

(Delphius pauses and plays with an idea)

Delphius: Wouldn’t it be something if I were part human? And I spend hours upon hours researching them only to discover that I have lineage of mankind running in my veins? . . .

(There is a sharp halt of momentum, and a trailing, “Eh…”)

Delphius: Actually, no: that would make for some sort of really cliche drama that I actually don’t fancy much. The more I think about it, I pray to the divines that’s not the case. It’d be a really crappy, ironic plot twist to my life. But I could totally see it too.

*There is perchance an instance of Delphius waving his hand ambivalently, though the sound of the action cannot be captured*

Delphius: Anyways, ignoring that silly thought, I should probably wrap up this recording. The microphone is violently shaking and foaming at the mouth, which means it’s low on battery.

I know that this will very likely never reach human ears, but all the same; thank you. It means a lot that you took the time to listen. Especially you, Dr. Ynori. I appreciate this opportunity.

This is Delphi, signing out.

*Click*

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