#if anyone looks at my search history they definitely think I’ve found a place to bury a body
Text
FILE J.ONE - PT.1
(”I mean if you’re going to hack into my software might as well give me head first.”)
1 - 2 + UPDATE
WARNINGS- smut, mentions of pedophilia, porn, bad language, and over all not kid friendly writing!
Pairing- Han Jisung (Of StrayKids X OC/you)
Genre- Hacker AU, highschool AU, comedy, and romance.
WC- 2K
SUMMARY-
Being a well experienced hacker and coder with too much time on your hands is an interesting hobby, especially interesting when you leave your computer in your school's robotics club and come back to a strange new malware taking over your system. Who in the robotics club is responsible? Who is trying to watch me? And why?
File title; Han Jisung. Age; 17, occupation; student enrolled at Seoul high school, alias; J.ONE.
Normal kid with a normal cyber background, seemingly there was nothing special about Jisung. Except for the alarming amount of porn he watches, although I didn't expect much coming from the vice president of Seoul high school’s robotics club.
The entire robotics club was almost built like a mini nerd cult. They never spoke to anyone other than each other during break times, the only thing making them noticeable was the fact some of their members were drop dead gorgeous. The group consisted of 8 members, all of which I've done extensive cyber background checks on.
The president or leader of the robotics club was our school's valedictorian, Christopher “Chan” Bang. Most people called him Chan since he refused to ever hear his legal name, I wouldn't want to be called Christopher either. Online or during coding he used the name CB97. He started the robotics club back in his freshman year, now that he’s graduating he’s training Jisung to take his place for the younger members. I found that out after finding a file titled, “Jisung’s growing up:(“. Other than that I found basic coding cheats for password hacking and how to take down viruses, nothing any other coding lover wouldn't have. I only found him suspicious because in order to dig my way into his system I had to jump over two firewalls, for a second I was nervous the walls were used as distractions while viruses were being downloaded onto my software. Nope. That is what made Chan even then the more interesting, he’s not smart enough to program malware, but smart enough to hide something.
Lee Minho took the cake for the most I had found out of any of the members, certainly not anything useful but enough to make my jaw drop just a little bit. Minho, also known as, Lee Know online, had a porn and gambling addiction at just 17. Thousands of dollars spent on cam girls in the past year not even noting how much was spent on online slot machines. Unlike Chan he had only one singular firewall setup and even so it wasn't the strongest, the basic kind of software you pay some DnD kid to install for you. I suppose a lot of people who find out about another person's addictions might actually want to use it for leverage, though blackmail isn't what I was looking for. I just wanted to know who the fuck installed this malware onto my computer. Lee Minho was off the hook, although I did make sure therapist’s will pop up in his recommendations throughout all of his social medias. I think he may need it.
Seo Changbin, SPEARB, has one of the most boring files I have ever witnessed. Yes, he did partake in illegal activity but not to the degree Minho does. The only differentiating factor between the two was Changbin had a girlfriend, making his porn searches much lower than the rest. It wasn't hard to tell when I stumbled across the homemade porn videos uploaded to his iCloud of the two, she definitely was beautiful. Inside and out, if you know what I mean. His search history consists of lists of car parts and gym plans. Now, the only thing I can see Changbin doing behind the police’s back is back street car racing. Which for the record was something I truly did admire, so I spent a little bit extra time looking at pictures of his cars and all the mods he had changed on it. Based on this I think it was the only reason why he joined the robotics club to begin with, it gave him an opportunity to get ahold of the tools he needed without seeming strange. He wasn't the one I was looking for.
Hwang Hyunjin was a different type of boy. He was so attractive it made me blush a little bit to go through his belongings, I got to see a different side to him and to say I wasn't a little giddy was a lie. I liked going through him the most because he was definitely more clever. His passwords were much larger and harder to decipher, meaning it took my software and little longer to get through. I knew Hyunjin was a ladies man, I mean we all did. You would have to be socially stupid to not see how women flock to him like sheep, and he was good at it too. He knew exactly how to get them wrapped around his finger. He had this sort of ego online, Jiniret. He would talk to women through online dating apps, pretending to be older or even sometimes someone he wasn't at all. Whatever type of men these women were looking for they could find in Hyunjin. He was so sly with his words these women would do anything for him, send him money, buy him clothing or food, these women were utterly in love with Jiniret. I think the worst thing I had found was recent searches of plastic surgery doctors for cheap prices in Seoul. Was he saving up the money he earned from these women to change his appearance? Fortunately, Jiniret was not the criminal I was looking for.
Lee Felix for the most part was completely normal, for a long time Felix wasn't even on the list of suspects. The only reason I had even searched for him was because he was a part of Chan’s group, making him an associate. Though fortunately I found nothing, nothing besides a pile of gay porn and test anwers for every chemistry test he has taken so far. For now, I left Felix alone. Although for safe measures I kept in touch with his digital footprint.
Min Seungmin or known as PuppyM, was also a suspect I was less worried about. Yet again another straight A student with a perfect school record. Seungmin had a very clear interest in coding, like he had joined the group for what Chan had intended it to be. That's what Seungmin wanted everyone to believe he was, PuppyM on the other hand was some sort of viglianti online. PuppyM finds pedoflies on all platforms and baits them as a 10 year old girl, once he becomes closer with these men he lures them into cyberattacks. He gains their IP address and all data proof of their crimes and anonymously sends them to law enforcement. PuppyM was well respected and admired in this community, which was such a difference from Seungmin. What was even more surprising was he had let the youngest member in on what he had been doing, something the others hadn't done.
The youngest being Yang Jeongin, a freshman new to the club. He joined robotics a couple months ago, I found some searches in his Google history of coding basics, which then lead me to believe Jeongin was completely new to coding and just joined to make new friends. This led my attention away from Jeongin and towards the older members, that was until I found messages between Seungmin and himself. Only two months into their meeting, Seungmin had come clean about everything he had been doing in his free time, offering to recruit him and take him under his wing. Jeongin seemed nervous at first and thought that doing something as risky as this was simply too much for him. Everything in the span of a month had changed, he went from making small actions online to big movements. It started with only speaking to one man at a time to speaking to multiple and even running fake group chats for pedophiles. PuppyM and FoxI.Ny were the perfect duo to make the internet a cleaner place for children.
Han Jisung. J.ONE. No one has ever sent me more in a loop than he has. Jisung was no criminal, or at least with anything I had found. Though, Jisung was more clever and protective than any of the boys had been. Jisungs passwords were extensive and detailed, a long series of numbers mixed in with symbols and letters. Behind the passwords were firewalls and traps to gain IP addresses of hackers. So not only was I not able to access as much as I had wanted, but when I got as far as his messages and search history there was nothing. Nothing. No strange texts, Google searches, no dating apps, only him and his dominatrix porn. I was angry with myself for not searching harder or not even knowing enough to get past his walls, but it was too much of a risk. I was ultimately stuck, with all of the boys I had come up with explanations for their behavior easily, though Jisung seemed too innocent. Why have an alias when you're committing no crimes? Why be so secretive when there's nothing to hide? But that was exactly it. There IS something to hide.
The blue light on my computer was starting to strain my eyes after going over my notes of the boys over and over. I was trying my hardest to make the connections I hadn't seen the first time, but nothing. I felt a little helpless but I still had options left.
Last week I bought a computer from the pawnshop, one of those Microsoft surface computers. When I had initially bought the computer they let me know the motherboard was completely busted, the previous owner had brought it in because of the infamous “Blue Screen of Death”. I thought it would be a fun side project and something to keep my mind busy, all things I desperately needed.
After further inspection I noticed there were partially connected cables, improperly seated components, and electrical spikes and power surges. All causes for a motherboard to crash easily. I thought this would be an easy fix, though the tool I needed most was the one I didn't have.
After school yesterday I thought I’d take the computer to the robotics club, thinking out of everyone they would be able to help with what I needed. When I had initially walked in the room none of the members were present, so at first I felt a little awkward walking in and using their tools without permission. I stood around the door for a few seconds hoping someone would show up, but atlas no one did. In my panic I decided, “Who’s going to notice?”.
After placing my personal computer and backpack on the table I began searching for the labeled baskets with the metal rods. I found the right size and started my work fixing my new motherboard. As I’m thinking back and retracing my footsteps I’m quite angry for being so careless with something as precious as my computer. Because ultimately I misplaced my computer and left it on the desk I was occupying. I wasn't so nervous someone would try and steal it because I was lucky enough to have my name engraved on the bottom right hand corner. Nor was I nervous that someone would be able to get into my computer, because just as I am able to get into peoples files, I am able to protect my own.
As embarrassing as it is, I was completely confident nothing would happen until it did. The next morning when I went to claim my lost belongings I noticed a strange file that had not been there the day before. The file wasn’t edited to have a name, only titled the the files location. I knew I was fucked the moment I clicked it and the file was nothing besides a yoga program. I was fucked because I don't do yoga, I am the furthest away from active. Someone installed a Trojan virus.
Trojan viruses are a type of malware that invade your computer disguised as real, operational programs. Once a trojan is inside your system, it can perform destructive actions before you even know it’s there. Once inside, some trojans sit idly on your computer and wait for further instructions from its host hacker, but others begin their malicious activity right from the start. So whoever the fuck did this, did it for a purpose. They need something from me and that’s exactly what I needed to figure out.
The robotics club became the first line of suspects from the start. Not only are they the only ones that could have had the opportunity to do this, seeing as though they meet early before school, but also the skill. That’s what led me here. Analyzing each member as if I’m the FBI, because I’m about to rain cyber hell on whoever is responsible.
DING.
HI, INDIGOBUNNY. HAVE YOU DECIDED WHICH ONE OF US DID IT?
BTW YOU LOOK INSATIONALLY PRETTY TONIGHT:)
Who the fuck?!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I hope you guys liked the first chapter of this new mini series I’m starting!! I really love this one from the bottom of my heart. Stay healthy Buns, I love you! As always here is a little visual of Jisung during this fanfic!
#straykids#jisung#han jisung#bang chan#lee know#changbin#lee felix#hwang hyunjin#kim seungmim#i.n stray kids#jisung x reader#han#fanfic#straykids fanfic
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
grandmother aya has been asking me to sit with her lately. in a few months, i will have my money saved, my classes finished, and my car. all the material things in order. i will be as ready as one can ever be for her. i want to spend months in the rainforest the way i did years ago. i have never heard the earth so loudly as i did then. we talked for days and she ached. her pain is also ours. body on the land and the riverbeds of the madre de dios. time spent dancing with the people communing with each other and the trees and most definitely the bugs. the empanadas made just for me were otherworldly— so much love and gratitude were given to each ingredient and then each pocket as a whole for coming together so wonderfully. this is what nourishment feels like, i remember thinking. i ate on a boat, tossing crumbs into the river and watching the piranhas swim up to swallow them. i walked through the jungle at night and there was nothing but darkness and the stars through the canopy and the scream song of insects i didn’t know existed. i walked carefully, keeping my wits about me, heeding the warning i was given about the trickster spirits. i wanted to appease them. i wanted to befriend them; i wanted to explore but not encroach. i wanted an adventure and a trickster spirit encounter in the amazon would be a fit addition to my archive of stories that i’ll never tell anyone else. i have learned reverence since then. upon my return, i want to be present to the gifts and the wisdom imparted on me. how lucky i am to have found the grand adventure i’ve been looking for which has also been searching for me. how lucky i am to have met the great spirit of everything half way, which is how i’ve learned you ought to meet it if you ever wish to find it. how lucky i am to have the privilege to sit with the ancients and hear their stories. to even have the knowledge that they exist in the first place. to put my feet on the earth where all of history has happened. to exist here and now is a miracle. to live in this way is a miracle. and from there i want to go where i am called, which i know is far away from where i stand now. i see desert and open sky and nights by a fire. i see magic and violence and cataclysms but most especially what comes after. new bodies and new life the way it was meant to be. bliss and love that was only felt before we came. we weep and we hold each other, grieving time lost and overflowing with gratitude. guards are down. all is freed and open. nothing is threatened. the green of the trees is a green like i’ve never seen. the water is alive; everything is alive and it speaks.
0 notes
Text
𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it. you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.
𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol
You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.
Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.
It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though. After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…
Why would you, after all? Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.
Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared). He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.
Because of course he did. Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.
“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered. The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed. You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.
Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder. You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him. You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him. Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.
Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around. You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention. If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.
“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers. With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.
“What is it?” you asked.
“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk. Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter. “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”
“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded. By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.
He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.
“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”
Ridiculous. Idiotic. A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.
“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you. “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”
You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.
“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”
“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.
“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”
“I mean, not really,” you shrugged. “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.
And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing? “Thank you. I’m always… glad to inspire.”
If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.
“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.
“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.
“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.
“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.
“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense. But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?” His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious. “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”
“My friend brought me,” you defended.
“Under what guise?” he pressed.
“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him. He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression. His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’
“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.
“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore. “I’m here, aren’t I? Taking your class?”
“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that? I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me. It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”
Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.
“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm. “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”
“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”
You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium. Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.
“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.
“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.
“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.
“I’d love to.”
So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course. And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.
But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.
“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”
You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck. “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.
His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.
“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar. “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”
“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.
“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.
Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time. You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.
By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there. Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.
He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.
Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.
He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.
You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen. And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.
Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds. You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit. All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.
They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.
His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything. The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.
Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex. As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd. Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway. It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.
With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.
It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.
“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).
“A little,” you admitted. “Please don’t stop.”
He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.
“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”
A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were. But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.
Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck. “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me? Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”
“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”
“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”
“No!” you yelped. “I can take it! Please, please don’t stop.”
“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head. “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”
What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on? Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?
And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.
“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”
Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.
Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers. You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you. Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.
His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly. You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.
"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."
You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.
"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point. "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"
With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.
You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.
“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly. He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.
Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.
And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."
“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.
“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.
“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.
It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.
And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air. He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive. The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.
“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed. He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.
“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.
“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss. Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.
“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”
His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.
All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him. Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.
Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing. His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.
"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.
"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."
"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately. "You want to make me come, darling?"
"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.
He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.
The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.” It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.
You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet. But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.
"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear. You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly. "Oh, you like that idea, hm? You want to be full of my come? Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."
"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"
He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.
You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.
He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.
Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast. You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.
It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated. As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.
But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade. Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks. No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.
He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.
You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.
In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.
As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair. It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.
He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks. If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.
If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.
You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.
“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”
“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.
You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.
"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.
"That's sweet, but save your chivalry. I can take care of myself just fine."
"But—"
"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"
"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.
"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed. He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.
"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye. “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.
When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss. And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again. He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.
As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss. Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss? But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.
All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.
Can I speak to you in my office today after class? Thank you.
-Z
You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it? And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.
Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios. You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.
You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him. And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now. The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.
When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.
When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.
And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.
For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class. As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options. There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).
Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself. Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable. Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.
"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.
"Hi," he returned. "Close the door behind you."
You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk. Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.
"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck. He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was. “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed. “It can’t happen again.”
“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.
“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice. You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.
“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.
He cleared his throat slightly. “So no one would hear us.”
“Hear us talk?” you pressed. “Is that all?”
“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly. "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours. And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."
“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel. “Don’t you think?”
“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.
"Do what?"
"That," he hissed. "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again. "A man can only take so much. I'm trying to do right by you."
"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked. "Nothing else could be as right as that."
Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist. Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.
You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod. It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag. “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened. Even if it shouldn’t have.”
He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.
“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”
You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.
“Professor…” you whispered.
“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded. “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.” He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”
A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips. “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”
He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs. “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.
“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”
His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.
It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.
“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair. He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit. Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.
So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.
"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.
"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way. I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.
"I thought about it, too," you sighed. "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."
He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear. "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."
"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.
"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.
"I can't wait any more, just fuck me. Need you inside me," you breathed.
"Then bend over my desk."
{part 2}
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
🧡Day 1: Inc*st🧡
Really starting off strong huh lol anyway, this is very background heavy (I don’t know what happened but now I’m obsessed) and I hope y’all enjoy 🧡
Warnings: inc*st, nff, father/son (but they don’t know), Peter is 18 and an intern at SI, brief substance ab*se mention (and impaired s*x, not between starker)
***
Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.
There was always room for accident, though.
***
Tony never wanted kids. The thought of someone depending on him in such a way made him feel sick. So he always did all that he could to ensure nothing would happen.
He never had sex without multiple levels of protection. And he was famous enough that people rarely tried to argue against it. Sleeping with him at all fulfilled what they wanted.
So things were perfectly fine. He never had an issue, he was always completely safe with his partners.
Except for this one night.
He was in a self-destructive episode, in the downward spiral before he hit rock bottom. Mixed every possible substance that shouldn’t have been mixed, impairing him until he wasn’t sure which way was up.
And he had a woman spiraling right along with him.
Her name was…Mary. Mary something. She was a scientist in some field, but he didn’t catch anything else. Or he just didn’t remember it. It didn’t matter anyways, they were both just wanting to ignore what was around them. What their lives had served them.
And maybe he forgot to ask if she was on birth control when he sloppily kissed over her neck.
Maybe he fumbled with the condom to the point where she whispered, “We’ll be fine,” and he believed her.
How it happened didn’t matter. All that mattered was that it did.
Tony didn’t even know.
He didn’t ask for her number the next morning, he just hid out in the bathroom, emptying his stomach of its entire contents while he waited for her to leave.
She was gone by the time he could see straight.
Thank god.
He never heard from her again.
Mary Parker and her husband died six years later and he never knew.
He didn’t know that they had a son. Or she did, at least. There was no way for him to know that the son had been passed along to his aunt and uncle when no other relative was found.
He never knew that Mary Parker had a son. And that her husband wasn’t the one who got her pregnant.
She never crossed his mind again after she left him.
***
Enter Peter.
Tony had new interns come in every year, typically college students that needed the credits, but sometimes someone special would come along.
Peter was a high school senior, but he was one of the smartest people that Tony had ever come across.
Tony had a job lined up for him as soon as he graduated if he wanted it. Not that he’d told him that yet.
He swore that he wasn’t a stalker. He had to prove to Pepper that he wasn’t giving too much attention to one intern over another, and for him that meant that he needed to stay away from Peter personally.
No matter how tempting it was. There had to be a family history of such genius, right? That kind of brains didn’t just occur at random.
But he didn’t look into him at all. He wouldn’t even let himself google search his name.
Oh, but he wanted to. He wanted to know everything there was to know about Peter Parker.
Although maybe he could just do it the old fashioned way. Minimal favoritism involved.
He spent months working with Peter. They became friends. Close friends.
It got to the point where Tony couldn’t help the smile he had when he looked into those warm brown eyes.
He felt it happen, it was official. Peter Parker had his heart.
It didn’t matter how wrong it was, he couldn’t help it. The young man had completely gotten hold of him.
And he hoped that it was mutual.
***
“Peter, can you stay back for a second?” Tony was still standing at the lab table, eyes scanning over the coding that they’d put in place during the session.
Like that was actually what was on his mind.
The young man looked up with wide eyes. Very deer-in-headlights. But it was so cute on him.
“Y-yeah! I actually needed to tell you something, so yes, I can definitely do that.”
Peter sounded a bit nervous which made Tony pause. Maybe his confession could wait a while. Maybe forever. Whatever was on Peter’s mind was infinitely more important to him.
“Okay, you first. I can follow up.” Tony tucked his hands into his pockets, leaning back against the table.
His cheeks burned. “No- no, you can go first. Don’t worry.”
The older man let out a breath. “Peter, you say what you need to. I can wait.”
Peter looked at him, face flushed. He hadn’t really meant to blurt out that he had something to say. He’d thought about it, sure. But he didn’t know-
His brain couldn’t keep up with his body and suddenly he was leaning up, pressing his lips to Tony’s.
The older man froze. It wasn’t what he’d expected at all. But then he relaxed into it, kissing back.
Who knew that they both had the same confession?
But it wasn’t supposed to be happening.
Tony pulled away once he finally got control of his senses again, raking a hand through his hair. “Pete, I’m supposed to be the adult here. I can’t be a good role model if I’m….”
When was he ever a good role model?
“Let me start again. I’m an adult. Kid, I’m old. Old enough to be your dad. And you’re…how old?”
“I turned eighteen in august,” he supplied helpfully.
At least it was legal.
“Eighteen. That’s a thirty year age difference.” Jesus, he was creepy. Falling for an eighteen year old. He couldn’t even buy alcohol for himself.
Peter blinked up at him. “So? I like you, Mr. Stark. I don’t care how old you are.”
Tony sighed softly. “You’re gonna be the death of me. And it’s Tony. If this is what’s happening, call me Tony.”
Even though it had been his plan to confess his feelings anyway, the guilt was still eating at him. He had fallen for a teenager who was just barely legal.
“What is happening, Mr.- Tony?”
Tony leaned in for another kiss, sighing softly. “What do you want to happen, kid?”
“Oh. Well, um, not to be blunt, but- I just- I mean- I really want you.”
He was cute. Innocent. But Tony could tell that what he meant was a bit less innocent.
“Are you sure? You realize this is a bad idea on...a lot of levels, right?”
Peter huffed softly, looking up at him with a stubborn expression. “I don’t care. We can be sneaky.”
Tony snorted. ‘Sneaky’ wasn’t really how he’d describe it, but he had to remind himself that his terms were a lot different than Peter’s. Different generations and all that.
He was horrible.
“Okay, kid. We can take this upstairs-” where there was no one to walk in on them. “-and talk about what exactly you’re thinking.”
“How about we don’t talk about it and we just...do?” Peter gave him a shy, devious smile.
“Uh huh. We’ll see.”
Tony grabbed his wrist gently, glancing in the hallway to make sure that no one was coming before he dragged him to the elevator.
Before he could get another word out, Peter’s lips were on his again. And this time there was more heat behind it.
He kissed back, eyes slipping shut just as the elevator doors did. Their lips pushed together insistently and he felt Peter’s tongue clumsily swiping over his lip.
He suppressed a laugh and parted his lips, allowing Peter to lead.
It was all so curious and clumsy that he wondered just how many times Peter had ever kissed anyone. If any. But that was a question for later.
The elevator dinged softly when they reached the penthouse and only then did they pull away from each other.
Tony led Peter out, instantly heading for his bedroom. Bad idea or no, he’d imagined such a scenario so many times. He didn’t want to waste any time.
“Tony?” Peter spoke up, eyes on the bed. “I know this is really straightforward, but I’m glad you, like, don’t hate me. I’ve thought about this...a lot.”
“You and me both,” the older man murmured. “Something I feel like we should cover before anything else...how far are you wanting to go?”
Peter chewed his lip. “Not to rush things, but I really really want to go all the way.”
“Well, not to rush things, but I want that too.” Tony gave him a small grin. “Do you have a preference?”
“Hmm?”
The confused look that he got made him feel guilty again. Just how much had Peter ever done with anyone else?
“Top or bottom, honey. Receiving or giving, pitching or catching, whatever you want to say. What do you want to do?”
Peter blushed, deciding to distract from the question at hand by pulling his shirt off.
It worked. Tony’s attention was instantly elsewhere, his eyes focused on his trim waist but hard muscle.
“Jesus, kid. That’s...wow.” If he wasn’t hard before, he was definitely getting there from seeing just what his innocent little intern was hiding under loose clothing.
“Like it?” The young man grinned to himself, one hand sensually sliding from the v of his hips up to his chest.
Perfect abs. Round, firm pecs. Jesus, Tony was entranced.
But he remembered what he’d asked. “Peter, top or bottom. What’s your preference?”
“I- I don’t...know.”
There it was.
Tony looked at him, tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip quickly. “You’re a virgin.” It wasn’t a question. He knew it for sure. It wasn’t surprising.
Peter got defensive. “I’ve done some stuff.”
“Uh huh. What ‘stuff’?”
He refused to look at Tony, his eyes on his hands as he played with the button on his jeans. “I’ve given oral. Guys and girls. And I’ve gotten, like, a couple handjobs and blowjobs.”
Tony closed his eyes. “I shouldn’t be your first. This- Peter, this is such a bad idea. You should be with someone your own age.”
Peter made an indignant sound, popping the button on his jeans and unzipping them out of protest. “I don’t want someone my own age. I want you.”
He said it with such finality.
Tony stepped closer to the bed, his hands cupping Peter’s face gently. “You promise me you won’t regret this?”
“There’s nothing that could make me regret this.” Peter unbuckled Tony’s belt, slowly pulling it out of the loops before dropping it to the floor.
Tony nodded slowly, not fighting when Peter pushed his slacks down. It was really happening.
“Holy shit-” Peter’s eyes were wide. His eyes were fixed on the way that Tony’s dick was straining at the front of his tight boxers. There was a nervous look in his eyes.
“Good or bad?” Tony teased a little.
“Good. Good, oh man.” Peter reached down and squeezed himself hard. “So big….”
That was nice to hear. “You think so? Do you think you could take it, sweetheart?”
Peter’s fingers ghosted over the length slowly, making it twitch in its confines. “I...I want to try.”
Tony nodded. “We’ll make it fit. Let’s finish getting you undressed.” He pulled his own shirt off and tossed it to the floor before getting onto the bed next to Peter.
He finished pulling the young man’s zipper down and helped him shimmy out of his jeans. Peter’s thighs were gorgeous, Tony was nearly drooling over them. But he couldn’t get distracted.
“May I?” He met the young man’s eyes, his fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers.
Peter nodded, breathing hard as he laid back more.
Tony slowly pulled the piece of clothing down, biting his lip when he watched Peter’s cock drop against his hip once it was no longer covered. “So hard for me, honey. Look at that.”
The younger man blushed darker. “I’ve wanted this for a long time, Tony….”
“God, me too. Me too, kid.” He pushed his own boxers off, unable to keep himself from wrapping one hand around himself and stroking slowly.
Peter watched him with wide eyes. “Okay. I want you inside me. Now.” He kicked his boxers away, grinning a little.
Tony laughed softly at his eagerness. “We have to get you ready first. Hold on, let me show you….”
Turns out that Peter was incredibly responsive to everything and by the time he was open enough for further activities Tony had already worked him through an orgasm.
If Peter was that responsive to just his fingers, he couldn’t wait to get his cock in him. And the young man was still raring to go.
Tony grabbed a condom - habit, it wasn’t like they were preventing anything - but Peter stopped him.
“Why can't we just do it…without?” He asked shyly.
“I mean…we can. But you’ll have to clean up and that can be annoying.”
“I want…I want to feel you. Is that okay?” Peter hid his face in his hands, embarrassed by the admission.
Tony nodded, biting back a smile. “Yeah. That’s okay.” He set the foil square down on the nightstand before moving back to the young man.
He got between his legs, hands sliding over the strong thighs he was met with. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, kid. I hope you know that.”
Peter smiled up at him, spreading his legs further. “Thank you, Tony….” He leaned back more, laying his head down. “Now hurry up,” he joked.
Grabbing the lube and slicking himself up, the older man shook his head. “Impatient,” Tony chided, laughing softly. But he was already moving to position his cock at the man’s hole, the tip brushing over him.
They both moaned softly, laughing a little at how in sync they were.
“Fuck me, Tony…please?”
The older man nodded, slowly pushing past the tight muscle with a groan. Even though he’d prepped him, Peter was still tight. Just perfectly so.
Peter was tightly gripping the sheets, popping a couple threads even, with the first movements.
It seemed like his effort was in vain, but he really wanted to try to last.
Tony bottomed out, hips pressed flush against Peter’s ass.
The younger man was whining low in his throat at the feeling. His cock twitched between them. He knew that if he was touched at all before he could calm down a little, everything would be over way before he wanted it to be.
“Need me to stay still?” Tony asked. He could tell that Peter was struggling.
He nodded quickly, squeezing his eyes shut. “Yes. Fuck.”
“Okay, honey. Don’t worry, we can take this at whatever pace you want.”
Peter nodded, trying to get a hold on how he was feeling.
It took him a couple minutes, but eventually he signaled Tony that he was okay. And he could start moving.
So he started slow, but Tony started thrusting when he was given the okay.
Peter moaned, mouth falling open around his noises.
He tightened around Tony’s cock, squeezing down with every movement. Then he cried out when a particularly deep thrust hit something that made him see stars.
“What was that?” Peter gasped, hips rocking up wildly.
Tony groaned, laughing a little through it. “I’m going to, fuck, I’m going to assume that was your prostate. Feels good, doesn’t it? I should have showed that to you when I was fingering you.”
“Do it again!”
The older man snorted, aiming for the same spot again as he picked up his pace. He held one of Peter’s legs, lifting it just enough so that he could get at a deeper angle. “I can try.”
From the increasingly louder noises he received, he assumed he succeeded.
He was so lost in the feeling of Peter that he missed how close to the edge his partner was getting. All that registered was how incredible (borderline painful) it felt when the younger man squeezed around him like that.
Then Peter was crying out louder and thrusting up as he spilled onto his stomach.
Tony swore under his breath. “God, Peter.” He watched him, subconsciously speeding up as he chased his own high.
“Tony!” Peter moaned, eyes squeezed shut as he rode out his high. It was the best orgasm he’d ever experienced, alone or otherwise.
But he slowly opened his eyes, wanting to watch Tony cum.
“I’m close too,” the older man moaned, speeding up again.
Peter moaned louder, feeling himself being pushed up the bed with the quicker pace. “Cum, Tony, please, want you to fill me up.”
He wasn’t so sure about dirty talk, but it could only be but so bad because Tony went still moments later. Peter felt the cock inside him pulse briefly before there was a smooth warmth spreading.
The thing itself felt odd, but thinking about what was happening almost made him cum again.
Actually-
His hand flew to his own dick and he quickly jerked himself off before he was cumming for a third time. It wasn’t nearly as good as the other two, but it was still incredible. Especially thinking about how good Tony still felt inside of him.
He opened his eyes when he heard Tony chuckling. “What?”
“You’re insatiable. And I’m amazed that you can just go again that fast.” The older man closed his eyes again, catching his breath.
He was almost in shock that it had actually happened. He had sex with Peter. After thinking about it for months, dreaming about it, it happened.
He slowly pulled out, laying next to the young man. He knew they were both messes, covered in sweat and cum and lube, but he didn’t care. All he wanted was to hold Peter close before they had to go back to real life.
Tony gently wrapped his arms around him, just gathering him close while he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple.
He found out quickly that Peter’s dazed, relaxed post-sex state would only last for so long.
It was only minutes before the man was talking, whispering about anything and everything. And Tony happily listened.
He hummed softly, holding the younger man close to his chest. One hand gently carded through Peter’s soft curls as they talked quietly.
“My mom met you one time,” Peter murmured. “Before I was born. But she would never tell me about it. Just told me that it happened.”
Tony snorted softly. “Yeah, well, about when would that have been? I had a reputation for a reason.” But the confession started pulling at a memory. It couldn’t quite come to light, though.
“Ew.” The young man grinned at him. “But I guess you’re right. I don’t know, she was kinda weird about a lot of stuff. Not just that.”
“What do you mean?”
Peter sighed softly and Tony frowned. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked. But Peter started answering anyway.
“I don’t know who my actual dad is. She never told me. I vaguely remember her telling me that Richard was the only dad I needed, but nothing else.”
“You would have been so young,” Tony whispered. “Maybe she just figured it could be a conversation for another time.”
“But she wouldn’t tell anyone else. My aunt and uncle knew that Richard wasn’t actually my dad, but they were never told who was. And I guess it just…died with her.”
The older man nodded. “You could always do a paternity test, right?” Why was guilt pooling in his stomach?
Peter shrugged. “That’s assuming that my dad has done one too that we could match. And sometimes….” He trailed off.
“Sometimes what?” Tony kissed him gently, trying to soothe him.
“Sometimes I’m not sure that I want to know,” he confessed.
It made sense. But something was still trying to pull at Tony’s memory. Forming an idea slowly.
Although he wasn’t sure that he wanted to know the answers.
But he couldn’t just leave a question unasked. No matter how dark the potential answer.
“Peter…when did you say that your mom met me?”
The young man snuggled into him more, shaking his head. “I didn’t. I think it was…the year before I was born or so. Why? Do you remember?”
Tony tried to mentally do the numbers. He’d spent most of that year in a fog, but that had been the theme of that era in his life. But maybe…
“Are you okay?”
The older man closed his eyes, frowning as he tried to remember.
Parker. Had he been with a Parker? He couldn’t remember the occasion at all.
Maybe that was for the best.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m okay, was just trying to see if I remembered her. I’m sorry.”
Peter leaned up to kiss him gently, shaking his head. “Don’t be sorry. It’s not a big deal, really. Sometimes I just wonder about that stuff.”
Tony tried to assure himself that it wasn’t a big deal.
Maybe it was best to not have all the answers.
He had what he wanted. That was all that mattered.
#starker#peter parker#tony stark#tony x peter#tony stark x peter parker#my writing#bri’s kinktober 2021#now I’ll go do all the schoolwork I’ve been ignoring lol#if you see this: yes the backstory is heavily influenced by that one rp we did where I came up with too much backstory#yeah
157 notes
·
View notes
Text
AURORA – The Gods We Can Touch
Interview for Bedroomdisco by Sophia Kahlenberg (February 7th, 2022).
Aurora, hello again. This is fun – it hasn’t been too long since we last spoke. How are you doing?
I know! It’s nice to see you, it’s not often that you see the same people again in these things. I’m feeling very good. I’m currently in Paris and it’s a lovely day.
That sounds wonderful. Last time I asked you what colour you would give your music. A bottle green, you said, would describe Cure For Me. But you didn’t want to give away a colour for the album. So.. what shade are you thinking?
Well, it’s definitely red and gold. And it’s kind of black as well. I think black can be a very deep and warm colour and misleading too.
In what way?
In movies, the bad people have the white robes. You think they’re good first, because everything is white; and then they always turn out to be the evil ones. In sci-fi movies, everything is clean and sterile, there’s always something fishy going on. It’s not right, it just feels off, so white is just too much. I feel like dark is inviting and black contains all the colours, so it’s a bit sneaky of me.
Cheeky! What is your journey with greek mythology? Where does your fascination for greek gods & goddesses stem from and what intrigues you about then?
It started with a fascination for religion and history. I find faith very interesting and I find faith in itself makes a lot of sense, because it’s a huge part of our quest here on earth. To search and to learn and to wonder and all of those things. But when I looked through the systematic religions throughout time, it just made me very curious why we started with having gods so close, in our reach, on the earth, in the trees, in the water. In the ancient times god was all around here, we could see god everywhere and touch god. And then with time we made god less and less approachable. Now we put god up in the sky, far away, and removed him from earth. I just wondered why and then stopped at greek mythology, because I found it extremely interesting that they had, of course flaws, but a beautiful way of combining the human and the divine and making them feel like the same thing. A man can be a god and a man and a woman can be a goddess and a woman at the same time. And they celebrate all the things that they put shame upon in our more modern religion. Being a woman was never a bad thing, or being gay or being trans, drinking wine or beer, the sexual. There was no fuss about being a virgin. I resonate the most, out of all the religions, with greek mythology.
That sounds so beautiful and like such a special inspiration behind an album. To bring that back to us and make us realise that actually it doesn’t help anyone if you strive for perfection. And not even gods are perfect, even if you want them to be.
How or what are you feeling when you listen to The Gods We Can Touch yourself?
Well I’ve only listened to it twice. Once when I had to master the album after the mixing and then once the morning it was released. I prefer not to listen to my own music too much. I felt relieved and like a post birth kind of emotion and happiness. And I was struck again by how wild it is. It’s very chaotic and very genre blending and it’s way more over the place when I tried to listen to it from the outside. When I was in it I felt like it all makes sense. To me it all just perfectly sounds like this album, like an own genre. But I did realise how all over the place it is and that was interesting.
Are you rediscovering it in a different way when you listen to it and when you play it live?
I guess I kind of do. Listening to it is very different when you realise that you can’t touch it or change it. So you have to listen to it while just accepting that it is just what it is now forever until after a die. This huge thing is eternal almost. You listen to it with more acceptance once it’s released. It’s very easy to enjoy something if you have to accept it for just what it is; then everything is very lovable.
Wise words that we can take to many parts of the human existence. Noted, thanks very much.. After sharing music online for so long, playing virtual concerts too, can you believe you get to go on a real tour so soon?
It’s going to be so strange. But I’m excited, because I think what is magical about music is that it can unite people with completely different personalities and needs and beliefs and political views. It’s so uniting and magical and everyone understands it, even children who don’t even know why they like it. They just understand it. And I never get more reminded of this magic than when I perform and when I see it happening right there in the face of the people in front of me. It’s just the most beautiful thing. People look so beautiful when they forget to analyse themselves. It’s just so pretty and oh it’s so easy to fall in love with mankind watching them like that.
That sounds so wonderful. And you give them a reason to float and forget their critical heady things. One thing I noticed and found so special is that you seem to have young audiences from TikTok but also the middle aged generation who you draw in. You seem to be sharing something that resonates with so many.
It’s very interesting. It creates a very lovely dynamic, especially on my shows. You notice all the different vibrations, all kind of different behaviours, and I really enjoy that. It’s really fascinating and you can from stage almost see the pattern of the different groups of people. They behave kind of the same but also differently. I’m very happy my music has no age because there are many things with all people of all ages that I resonate with. I’m happy to meet all of the people. The meeting with people is a special thing and they remind me of things that I forget sometimes and I remind them of something they forget. They can offer me so much and it’s very very pleasing, emotionally and intellectually and spiritually.
The video for A Temporary High you just shared with the world a few hours ago. What a magical masterpiece! Can you share some tales of its creation?
I wanted to symbolise the feeling of chaos. Everything means something, from the number and the colours and the positions of people. Some fans have already discovered a few things that connect with things I’ve done before. I wanted to represent the chaos and the conundrum between trying to make the chaos make sense, while trying to make sense out of yourself. And then figuring out what direction you should go with the people, against the people or just to stand still and watch everyone else. It’s this making sense of the chaos and making sense of yourself at the same time and how confusing and overwhelming that can be for a human being.
When I listened to the album for the first time, I tried to listen in one go. But I felt so moved by Everything Matters that I couldn’t help pressing repeat many times. Can you share what the song represents for you?
I love the song too, I think it’s one of my favourites from the album as well. It’s really close to my heart. I wrote it a long time ago, quite early in the process and I already knew with that song that it was a part of the vibration that I wanted the album to be. To me it’s about – which is an important keyword for me, because it can be about something different for everyone -, but it’s about two things. If you listen very carefully, it’s a beautiful and a sad story. There’s something ominous about it also. But also something extremely beautiful. It’s about these people, the you and the me in the song, and they are going thought something which forces them to think about life differently and they look at each other and they look around themselves and they just grasp that time is slipping out of their fingers too quickly. I look at everything and am imagining in the and of the song they drive this car out to a sunset and they watch one very last sunset together and… there’s a fear that you miss out on all the beautiful things. There is so much beauty in this world, the small things as well.
And how did the collaboration with Pomme come about?
I recorded the whole album in this castle and it has French history and I thought I should give an extra vow to this location and castle that have inspired me. The French baron who lived there hundreds of years ago loved art and often invited artists to create and share and display and entertain in the castle. So basically I’m just one of his guests, but only a few hundred years after he died. But I felt like in spirit he would loved that I was there and I feel like a guest long after. Even though he’s dead and gone from being alive, it’s still important to honour people. And I wanted to include something French for him, so he would understand in case he didn’t know english. So I asked Pomme to write the ending for me and she did it beautifully and the lyrics are gorgeous and I’m extremely happy that I asked her. Now she’s my new friend as well.
What a great story! Is this something you’d like to do more in the future? Collaborating?
I think I want to do more with Pomme actually, something French with her help. I’m very fascinated by languages.. And I want to work more with The Chemical Brothers, cause I love their music. And I want to work with some heavy metal bands. And just people, people around the world doing the beautiful things they do. Be inspired by cultures and learning about music around the world. I have a lot of people I want to collaborate with, but I’m naturally more drawn to just the people who haven’t been found yet I guess.
Well that sounds very intriguing! You often mention human’s obsession with beauty. And I wonder what you think the way out is, and a way back to a peaceful acceptance?
I find it extremely troubling. It’s like a mental illness that we all have or a defect. It’s more like a defect that just really doesn’t make sense, you know? It prevents people from enjoying their lives, the one life we have. Because they spend the first half hating themselves and the second half regretting hating themselves and wishing they could see how beautiful they were, now that they don’t feel beautiful anymore. It’s just horrible.. I think we should remove ourselves from the internet more. I think people should be more open with admitting that when you have money and you can do these small things that look gorgeous and flawless. It will help the conversation if people were more honest with when it’s more about money than how you are naturally. Not that that makes any difference, but it makes a difference for the people at home wondering why they aren’t naturally ageing as gracefully or looking the same. I think it would at least help if that was a more open thing. It’s note shameful if you can afford it and you can do what you want. It’s a choice and it’s where we shame our own naturalness by comparing it to something that isn’t all natural. It’s still beautiful, but it’s about the comparing that scares me. I hope that we worship ourselves more and each other, than celebrities for their beauty. Because it doesn’t do good to anyone, not even the celebrities.
It’s nearly similar to the conversation we just had about gods and goddesses. That we put these internet people into a spot of unreachable perfection.
I think so. And I think in our really modern times, for most of us, we can kind of point out in the world who we look up upon like gods that we can’t touch. It’s very scary I think. We tend to indulge in unhealthy patterns, don’t we? Unhealthy for someone or for everyone. But I hope we find a good path because we all deserve that.
#aurora#aurora aksnes#the gods we can touch#pomme#collaborations#everything matters#a temporary high
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Home - Luke Alvez
*not my gif*
One-shot detailing the reader’s time with Luke and the BAU as they return from a 6-month sabbatical
Warnings: angst mixed with fluff, BAU! Reader, fem reader.
Didn’t proofread so possible occasional errors
Other Details: Reader has PhDs in Psychology and Anthropology with masters in Sociology and Criminal Justice
Pairing: Luke Alvez x fem BAU! Reader. Platonic team x reader. Maybe some mistakes here and there
Flashbacks/memories are in italics and bolded
Word Count: 4.6K
As you drove to Quantico, a familiar feeling started to consume you. It had been over 6 months since you last saw the inside of the BAU. As much as you missed the people you had grown to know, you were unsure of how smoothly your return would go. It wasn’t long before you pulled into the parking lot and made your way into the building and to the elevator. You weren’t officially reinstated to the unit yet due to delays in paperwork and had therefore only been in contact with Emily about your return. The feeling in your stomach as you approached the 6th floor was very reminiscent of your first day with the unit.
Despite having been part of the FBI for years, you still got first-day jitters when you approached the building. You had met with Emily Prentiss a few times prior when your name had been put in for the open position, but you had no idea who anyone else was or how they’d react to a new agent joining the team. You knew full well that the BAU was the crown jewel of the FBI and that there was going to be a lot of pressure to live up to any expectations.
As you made your way to the BAU, you fidgeted with the messenger bag you kept your things in, being in the FBI you found it much more useful than carrying around a purse. After calming your nerves you slowly made your way to Emily’s office, with the help of who would later learn was Spencer.
As you walked towards Emily’s office, Luke spotted you far before you spotted him. Quiet murmurs around the bullpen speculating who you were and what you needed to see Prentiss about were just out of earshot. The conversation with Prentiss was short before the two of you walked out of her office and into the conference room for Prentiss to introduce you to the team.
“As I’m sure you’re all aware we have a new agent joining us. This is Dr. y/n y/ln and I believe she’ll be an excellent addition to the team,” she stated. Quick individual introductions were done and the entire atmosphere was generally accepting yet professional. That was until you got to Luke and had to act like it was the first time you had met, well aware that no one on the team knew about your time spent with him.
“Luke Alvez, I look forward to working with you,” he said coldly, in a way that the team would chalk up to him having a bad day but that you knew was residual anger he had for you.
“Likewise,” you responded with a small smile despite the slight pang in your chest at the sight of the man you once knew.
Not long after you joined the BAU, Penelope had become suspicious of the way you acted around Luke. You had warmed up to everyone in the unit, except for him. One day she had wanted answers and the most she would get from either of you was “We just don’t get along Garcia it’s nothing important.” Even without being a profiler, Garcia could tell there was more to the story than that.
When she got a few spare minutes during a case she did a deep dive into your personal history, looking for anything in your past connecting to Luke.
Garcia didn’t know what to expect when she went digging into you, but it definitely wasn’t that you previously had an over 2-year long relationship with Luke. Garcia had gotten so caught up in finding out what went down between you and Luke that she didn’t hear footsteps approaching in time to close her search.
“Hey Garcia..” you started but tapered off as you saw the screens before you. “I - Prentiss needed - shit sorry I uh,” you tried to get Garcia back on topic for the case but fumbled on the words.
“No no don’t be sorry. I’m so sorry I did this. I know I shouldn’t have looked into your past with Newbie but I couldn’t understand why you guys don’t get along. I mean I get not liking him because he’s Newbie but you. You’re this little ray of sunshine girl wonder. I can’t believe he broke your heart like that-” she started to ramble on but you cut her off before she could continue.
“I left him,” you said hoping it would satiate her curiosity.
“Details? You can’t just drop that on me and not give me details. Did he do something? Was he a bad boyfriend? Should I hate him for it?”
“No, he did nothing wrong, it was all on me. I was scared he started talking about marriage and kids and he had the right to we had been together for nearly 3 years and I wasn’t sure if I was ready so I requested a transfer to a California field office and when it was approved I told him I got a job offer I couldn’t pass up and I left him.”
“Do you still love him?”
“I think part of me always will but Garcia this stays between us. I mean it, don’t tell anyone.”
“My lips are sealed. If you need anything the batcave is always open to have you,” she said as she stood up to embrace you in a hug.
Little did you know, Luke was having a very similar conversation with Matt down the hall.
The ding of the elevator signaling your arrival on the 6th floor shook you out of your thoughts. The closer you got to where you needed to be, the more anxious your return was making you. While you had come across a few bad cases, a few stuck out to you in particular, including the first one you had with the unit, which ultimately allowed you to reconnect with Luke.
The first difficult case for the team since you joined took more of a toll on you than you would like to admit. Once everyone was on the jet you took a seat and hoped to avoid any conversation about how you were feeling that day. You flashed a few small smiles at your colleagues in an attempt to let them know you were okay without actually saying anything. For the most part, your plan had been successful. That was until Luke had noticed the way you had been acting.
“Is it okay if I join you?” he asked motioning to the empty seat beside you. You silently nodded and avoided looking at him as he took a seat beside you. “I know we aren’t exactly close anymore but you can still come to me if you need anything,” he told you as you silently nodded.
“I know - I just. Can we talk about it later? I’d rather not talk about it right now,” you responded, finally looking his way.
“Of course. If you feel comfortable coming over tonight we can talk at my place. I know Roxy misses you,” he said with a smile.
“I’d like that. Thank you.” The rest of the time on the jet was spent in comfortable silence.
Upon getting back to the bullpen, you and Luke decided it would be best for him to drive you to his place after the two of you were done with the reports you had to write. As you sat at your desk and took out the files of papers you needed to complete, you couldn’t bring yourself to concentrate. As your mind kept replaying the events of the previous week, it was apparent you were becoming frustrated. It didn’t take Luke long to see that you were struggling and to tell Prentiss he was going to take you home for the night to make sure you were doing okay before heading over to your desk.
“You’ve done enough work today, let’s get out of here,” Luke whispered to you as you nodded. “I’ll meet you at the elevator in 5 minutes so no one thinks anything about us leaving at the same time,” he told you, knowing you wouldn’t like the idea of any possible attention on you that could come with the two of you leaving together.
The ride to Luke’s was much quicker than you had remembered it to be. Neither one of you two said very much and just let the radio play at a low volume. For most of the ride, you watched out the window while Luke focused on driving, occasionally looking your way to check that you were okay. As he pulled into his driveway, you realized how much you missed Luke and the sense of safety and comfort he provided for you.
The two of you talked about why the case had bothered you so much more than you had expected, and it soon turned to talking about whatever came to your mind. “I miss you. I know we work together now and that I’m the one who left but I really miss you, Luke. I miss spending time with you and the random updates we gave each other when you were gone and overall I just miss you. I think that’s why I struggled so much with this case when I didn’t hear back from you when you were in the field because I couldn’t live with myself if something happened and you didn’t know how I felt,” you started to ramble on.
“I’ve missed you too y/n,” Luke responded as he draped his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer to him, “I miss waking up and knowing you were either right next to me or that you were a phone call away.” Checking the time, Luke placed a kiss on your temple before whispering “Let’s get some sleep it’s getting late”
You nodded in response before the two of you got ready for bed. After changing into a pair of Luke’s sweatpants and an old shirt, you crawled into the bed the two of you had shared so many times before and eventually fell asleep in the arms you had previously grown to associate with comfort and safety.
As you walked down the hall, you passed the spot you were standing when you got an offer to lead a study and return to anthropology. It was a temporary out from profiling but it was something that you had missed doing. Upon getting the offer, a range of emotions flowed through you, yet it took nearly 2 weeks to tell Luke and another 2 weeks to tell anyone else.
The day started like any other day-off with Luke. The two of you slept until around noon and laid around just enjoying each other’s company. Working together didn’t allow for much personal time together as you had to remain professional when on cases. Prentiss didn’t mind when it was a paperwork day that you guys spent time at each other’s desks, so long as PDA was kept to a minimum, which it always was. However, it wasn’t the same as getting to just spend time together without having to worry about catching an unsub or fill out a report in time with no errors.
While laying in bed, the offer to lead an anthropological study at the University of Michigan kept eating at you. You had limited time to make a decision and respond to the offer. However, you couldn’t bring yourself to bring the topic up with Luke and you couldn’t make a decision without informing him of the offer first.
“Is everything okay princesa?” Luke asked, noticing the sudden change in your emotions.
“Yeah, there’s just something I need to talk to you about,” you responded looking up at him. “But I need you to hear me out and keep in mind that I haven’t made a decision yet and that nothing is final.”
“You’re beginning to worry me,” he started, “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”
“I was offered the chance to lead an anthropological study,” you stated, leaving him speechless. Memories of when you left him flooding back. You could tell by the look on his face that he was worried this was the beginning of the end for the two of you once again. “I know what you’re thinking and it isn’t like that this time. I know I did something similar when I left but I promise I’m different now. The study is through the University of Michigan and it’s only slated to take 6-months if not less. It’s primarily overseeing graduate students as they conduct a study. I’d be able to set my own office hours so that we can talk as often as possible. I just don’t know if I want to take the offer.”
“You sound invested in the study already. What would be keeping you from taking it?” he asked, his voice full of support for you. All he ever wanted was for you to achieve your dreams. When you didn’t immediately answer he spoke again, “Is it me? Is that why you might not take it?”
You slowly nodded in response, “I feel like I just got you back and now I might be leaving, and what if things don’t work out with us not in the same state?”
“Princesa, listen to me. If you promise that this is nothing like last time and that you aren’t doing this in an attempt to leave then I trust you. We can figure out us as the situation comes up and I’m confident we can work out this time around. Whatever you decide I am forever proud of you and in awe of all that you’ve accomplished.”
“I love you,” was all you could think to respond with.
“I love you too princesa,” Luke said, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
Two weeks had passed since you told Luke of the news when a really difficult case had seemed to take a toll on pretty much everyone. After the case, it was decided that those who were able to would come over to the house you shared with Luke to decompress. Spencer and Garcia came and spent the entire day, and much of the night, with the two of you. Having extended the invite to significant others, Matt brought Kristy by to visit with everyone after they found a sitter around 7:30.
Once everyone who planned on coming was there, it didn’t take long for everyone to get caught up in conversations about personal lives. The conversation started with asking Matt and Kristy about their kids and eventually, everyone started talking about overall changes in their lives. “So girl wonder,” Matt started, referring to you by a name originally bestowed on you by Garcia before it caught on to the rest of the team, “Luke said you got an offer to lead a pretty interesting study is that right?”
“Yeah. He wasn’t supposed to tell anyone I haven’t made a decision yet. The department I’d be overseeing for it ran into some problems and the start date has been pushed back. It would be nice to get away from the dark and scary parts of this job and back to what I started with but I’d miss you guys too much.”
“Would it be permanent?” Spencer asked. The two of you had grown close since you joined the unit and while he wanted to be excited for you, he would be lying if he said the idea of you leaving didn’t upset him at all.
“No,” you started to say, “It’s slated to last 6-months but there’s no guarantee the study will be finished in time.”
“Are you still going to work at the BAU when you come back?” Garcia questioned.
“I’m not sure. If I’m being completely honest, I’ve been struggling with deciding lately if I’m a good fit for the unit, but I plan to stay with the bureau somehow,” you answered hesitantly.
The rest of the night was spent answering questions about the study and getting support from those around you. By the time everyone was ready to leave, you felt completely comfortable knowing that whatever decision you came to, you would have a support system of amazing friends.
Looking back, you should have noticed that the number of times you were having trouble with cases was more of a problem than you should have was a sign you needed to step away from the job. The cases themselves weren’t getting harder, but you personally were having a harder time with them. The longer you were with the unit, the more issues you had been having an increasingly difficult time coping after them. You would have thought they would have gotten easier to manage, but you found yourself struggling every time you felt a decision you made could have changed the outcome of a case. In your previous position before the BAU, you felt powerless as the victims were long gone and often one-off crimes and you felt switching to the BAU and being able to get killers off the street would make you feel better as you’d be helping get active killers off the street. However, you were extremely wrong, and the feeling that you could, no that you should, have stopped their killers before it was too late became too much for you and you decided to take a step back from the unit.
“Y/ln, we need to talk in my office,” Prentiss said as you entered the bullpen.
“Yes ma’am,” you responded, setting your go-bag down on your desk before you made your way to where she was standing. The entire team knew exactly what Prentiss needed to talk to you about and a few members even gave you sympathetic looks as you crossed the bullpen.
“Before we start I just want to say I’m sorry. I know what I did was against protocol,” you started.
“That’s not why you’re in here,” Emily cut you off. “While what you did was unacceptable, you’re here because I’m worried about you. In these past 2 cases, you’ve shown reckless behavior, as if you’re trying to get yourself hurt. I’m not mad at you, but I do need you to let me know if anything is going on that is affecting your ability to do this job.”
You silently nodded as she spoke. The more she said, the more you began to question your place in the unit. “Thank you. I’ve just had some personal problems the past week but I should be good to go now,” you said lying through your teeth.
“Just let me know if anything changes. Your health and personal well-being are more important than this job.”
The next week the BAU was called in to help with another tough case. While it wasn’t the first tough case you encountered in the time you had been with the BAU, this one was worse than others.
The victims are similar in both age and appearance to a close family member of yours and it had made it difficult for you to concentrate in the field the way you needed to. At one point you had even froze and almost didn’t get to a victim in time. For the entirety of the case, you were closed off from everyone when it didn’t involve work.
Upon returning to the BAU, everyone slowly dispersed their desks and you made your way to Prentiss’s office. Her door was open but you still knocked quietly before entering. “Can we talk?”
“Of course, come in.”
You could tell from the sympathetic look on her face that she knew what you needed to say. As you sat across from her she waited for you to speak. After letting out a small sigh you found the confidence to admit what was happening, “I think I need to step away from this job.”
With a silent nod, she grabbed the appropriate paperwork from her file cabinet, “I knew this day was coming. Luke told me you had been having nightmares lately. Fill out these papers and return them to me as soon as possible. If you opt for a sabbatical instead of completely leaving it should take roughly 2 weeks for it to be approved. In the meantime, you would still be a member of the team but be able to use the vacation days you have or you can be solely a desk agent and assist Garcia. Whichever one you choose I, as well as the rest of the team, will be here for you and have enjoyed working with you.”
Fighting tears that had started to form as she spoke, you nodded and said a quiet thank you before leaving her office. Setting the papers down on your desk on the way, you headed towards Garcia’s office to let her know you planned on leaving.
Once you were out of earshot, JJ had peeked at the papers you had set down. “What is it?” Spencer asked, almost not wanting to know the answer.
“Y/ln is leaving the unit,” she responded, voice full of confusion. As she spoke everyone turned to Luke and he nodded slightly in response, confirming you were leaving the family you had grown to love.
After your sabbatical was approved, you accepted the offer to lead the study. Much to your dismay, the team was insistent on throwing you a going-away party, despite knowing you were going to come back in 6 months. You told the team that if they insisted on having a gathering at Rossi’s place that it needed to be something that the members of the unit with kids could bring them with, feeling there was no point in, “saying goodbye to a family member” as Rossi had put it, without all of the family members being there.
“Remind me again why we have to make a big deal of me leaving? I already said goodbye to the team and I’ll be back and with the unit again in less than a year,” you wondered aloud to Luke as you pulled into Rossi’s driveway.
“Because princesa, it’ll make Rossi happy to get to throw you a party and its tradition, regardless of how long the leave will be. And besides, the kids want to see you before you leave for 6 months,” he reminded you.
“You got me there,” you said with a smile before kissing his cheek. “Let’s head in before we’re late.”
Shortly after you guys made your way inside and to the backyard, Matt and Kristy had arrived with their kids. The kids knew why you were having a going away party and instantly ran to you when they saw you. When you noticed the kids running up to you, both you and Luke knelt to prepare for the number of hugs you were about to get. Due to offering to babysit when Matt and Kristy needed time to themselves, the kids had grown to see you as an aunt and Luke as an uncle. The same could be said for Henry and Michael, who showed up with JJ and Will shortly after the Simmons had arrived. The next couple of minutes were spent answering any questions the kids could think to ask you, in the most kid-friendly way you could.
“You’ll be back by my birthday right?” David asked looking up at you. In the time you had known the kids, you hadn’t missed a birthday for any of them.
“Of course I will buddy,” you responded.
“What about our stories?” Chloe asked.
“Yeah who is gonna tell us our stories while you’re gone?” While they had the Simmons Stories, the ones you told were different. You told them stories of the different cultures you studied and the different ways parts of the universe were believed to have come into existence.
“I have them all written down. I can leave them with Luke and he can read them to you,” you reassured all of them.
As the night went on, many memories from your time with the unit were shared with the group. Even though you planned to come back as soon as the study was over, knowing they would spend the next 6 months without you seemed to make everyone nostalgic.
Near the end of the night, everyone started saying their goodbyes. It was particularly hard to say goodbye to Spencer, knowing nearly everyone else he had gotten close to had left him as well. “I’m sorry,” was the first thing you managed to say to him. “I know you hate goodbyes and struggle with change but I promise I will come back and if not to work with the unit at least for our weekly coffee shop visits.”
“You don’t have to apologize. You’re doing what you have to do,” he responded as you opened your arms to offer him a hug. You were always the first to initiate hugs and he usually accepted them.
“I’ll miss you, Spence. You already have my cell phone number and the phone number for my office for the next 6 months. Call me anytime you need me,” you told him while hugging him.
“I’m proud of you. I’ll miss you too y/nn,” he said as you pulled apart.
“See you in 6 months.”
As you made your way into the bullpen you took note of the date. It was 6 months and 4 days since you had seen any of the team face-to-face. While you kept personal contact with the entire team while you were away, you hadn’t told anyone except for Emily that you were planning on coming back to the team. Luke knew when the study would end and was expecting to see you at home later that night, assuming that the team didn’t get a case that pulled him away.
When you entered the bullpen, Matt was the first to notice your arrival. He was already standing at Luke’s desk to ask him a question related to a report he was writing and flashed a small smile in your direction before nudging Luke on the arm, “Why didn’t you tell anyone y/n was returning today?”
Not thinking you were actually there, Luke brushed off Matt. “She isn’t coming home until later tonight and told me even if she does return to the unit it would take some time for her to be reinstated,” he responded, not even looking up from his file.
Knowing he wouldn’t look up from his file right away, you talked quietly with everyone else before approaching his desk. You brought back small trinkets for everyone and placed a small handmade miniature Roxy in front of him. “One of the students I was overseeing made it when she saw a picture of you and Roxy as my phone background to help me cope with being away from you. I figured since I’m home now you could use it more,” you explained as if it wasn’t the first time you were seeing your boyfriend in over 6 months.
Luke watched silently as you spoke, a smile creeping onto his face when he processed you were actually there in front of him. As he stood up from his chair, he quickly wrapped his arms around you before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You’re home?” he asked, trying to comprehend your arrival.
“I’m home,” you responded with a smile as you looked up at him.
“I’ve missed you so much, you can’t leave me for that long again,” he said with a smile.
Before you could respond, Garcia came speeding out of her office due to having heard of your return from JJ. “Girl wonder! You’re back! Are you staying with us? You can’t leave me with Newbie for that long ever again,” she exclaimed as she approached you.
“Yes, I’m back. Weaning back into the job and will be on desk duty here and helping you for the first 2 weeks but I’m back,” you told her.
#luke alvez#luke alvez x y/n#luke alvez x reader#luke alvez imagine#alvez fanfiction#luke alvez imagines#luke alvez fanfiction#luke alvez fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds imagines#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#cm#adam rodriguez#cm imagines#cm imagine#alvez x reader#alvez imagine#alvez imagines
327 notes
·
View notes
Note
i wonder if you might do a story on river/13 going to a gay bar in space and they meet a bunch of previous companions/friends there too? (definitely jack for sure!) thanks
Okay first off, I love this prompt!! And it’s perfect for Pride month! I may, however, have taken some liberties and gone a bit bigger than a simple gay bar.... anyway :D I set out to write the gayest thing you’ll read all month... I hope I’ve succeeded! Happy Pride!
Invitation With A Kiss
“So what is this place, Doc?“ Graham asked as they made their way to the door of the TARDIS.
“Had an invitation!“ The Doctor retorted with a grin double-checking her psychic paper to make sure she had the right place and time.
“Who from?“ Yaz asked curiously.
“Ah, well, you know…“ The Doctor tried to wave it off but Yaz was quick enough to snatch the psychic paper from her fingers before she could try to hide it.
“Signed with a kiss?“ Yaz gaped and a wide grin spread across her features. Finally something to truly wind their friend up with and Ryan smirked as well:
“You sure you want us to tag along?“
“Oh, shut up, it’s not exactly a private party.“ The Doctor huffed trying to hide the blush that crept onto her cheeks. Quickly, she opened the door before any of her friends could comment and stepped outside.
“Oh wow, I don’t think I have words for this…“ Yaz started laughing as she joined the Doctor. They found themselves at the side of a most colourful parade. There were rainbows EVERYWHERE! Balloons, confetti, flags, people were dancing, hugging, kissing, having the time of their lives. “Please tell me this is…“
“Planet Pride.“ The Doctor grinned and put her hands on her hips as she took in the atmosphere. It was elating. There was a mild breeze that carried music and exotic smells, the sun was blazing down but not unpleasantly and the joy surrounding them was almost palpable. “Think of your 21st century Pride celebrations, multiply it by, I don’t know, a whole galaxy celebrating togetherness and inclusivity, and you get the greatest queer party this side of the universe.“ The Doctor turned to her friends who were still in awe.
“Isn’t this like… the future?“ Yaz finally found her voice and looked to the Doctor who was surprised to find concern in her eyes: “Is there a need for Pride still? Like I would have thought the issue would long be resolved and…“
“Oh it is, don’t worry!“ The Doctor grinned as she understood what she was getting at. “Doesn’t erase the past though. It’s part of the history of humankind… very sad, pointless, stupid part, but history nonetheless. Can’t and shouldn’t erase history, else you can’t learn from past mistakes… But let’s face it, Pride is brilliant. By this point it’s just an excuse to have one hell of a party.“ She pushed her hands into her pockets and they started walking down the street.
“This is brilliant.“ The Fam quickly found themselves accessorised by strangers, flower garlands and all sorts of amusing party hats were being passed out.
“Who’s the invite from, then?“ Ryan asked as they quickly caught up with the Doctor who was looking around the sea of people, clearly searching for someone.
“My wife.“ The Doctor answered knowing full well that there was no way she could keep it from them. She stopped and gnawed her bottom lip as she scanned the crowd. Where was she? Like she stood a chance of finding her amongst all these people…
“Your what now?“ Graham’s face fell and he nearly ran into her.
“Wife.“ The Doctor retorted matter-of-factly looking back to her friends. “We’re here to celebrate Pride, remember?“
“Yes but… you’re married?!“ Yaz exclaimed and carried on teasingly: “Who would agree to that?!“
“Well, we have always wondered that at one point or another…“ A voice sounded behind them and they all whirled around.
“Jack!“ The Fam exclaimed in unison as Captain Jack Harkness saluted with a grin.
“Hello, Doctor.“ He scooped the Doctor up in a tight hug who squeaked as the air was pushed from her lungs. “Fancy seeing you here! Are you ready for a party?“
“Hello Jack.“ She managed as she tried to extricate herself from his arms. “Bit too much to drink already?“ Jack ignored her comment and turned to the Fam, extending his arms.
“Ryan. Yaz. … Graham.“ He winked at Graham who blushed a little. Jack’s flirting was not lost on him or anyone else for that matter. “Missed me?“ He grinned. “Did you come here to see me?“
“While I knew you’d be here, no, not exactly.“ The Doctor retorted, trying to let him down gently.
“Well, that’s just as well.“ Jack huffed, trying not to look too offended. “I’m here with a Doctor of my own anyway. Though I seem to have lost him… and Donna just keeps trying to pass me drink after drink so…“
“You’re here with me? And Donna?“ The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock.
“There’s another version of you here?“ Yaz asked, utterly confused. The Doctor had told them plenty of times about how she had been a different person before and how Time Lords could regenerate their body, but they had never actually seen proof of it.
“And I don’t remember it… timelines crossing…“ The Doctor realised running her hands through her hair nervously. There was potential for disastrous chaos here.
“Doctor?“ A voice called and they all looked around. The girl that had called out wasn’t looking at them though, she was scanning the crowd and turned to another girl whose hand she was holding. “He must be here somewhere, that’s his TARDIS over there.“ They were searching for the Doctor too.
“Well, I’ve got a Doctor here if you’re looking for one!“ Jack called out without thinking. He didn't know the girls but the look on the Doctor’s face revealed that she did. She was simply too stunned to respond just yet. The girls looked at Jack who waved with a wide grin. “I think you mean to say: Her TARDIS. Times change!“
“Bill…“ The Doctor finally found her voice again as she stared at her long lost friend. There she was. Brilliant, beautiful Bill Potts. Cyberman no longer, holding on to her girlfriend’s hand and shock painted all over her face as the realisation hit her.
“Oh my GOD!“ Bill exclaimed, frozen to the spot.
“And Heather.“ The Doctor was beginning to grin now and hurried over.
“You have to be joking!“ Bill was still in shock, she shook her head to herself as the Doctor came to a halt in front of her with the Fam and Jack following close behind.
“Hello Bill!“ The Doctor smirked, amused by how her brain was reeling. “What? Not even a hug?“ She chuckled as Bill was finally pulled from her stupor.
“I really don't think I should hug you…“ Bill found her voice at last as she looked her up and down. “Cause you’re like… dead hot right now…“ She glanced at Heather who just laughed. “But also, you’re my weird space grandpa! So come here!“ She pulled the Doctor in a tight hug laughing.
“Fam, this is my friend Bill and her girlfriend Heather.“ The Doctor introduced them all.
“Lovely to meet you.“ Heather smiled. “I have a feeling you will be seeing quite a few familiar faces.“ She told the Doctor with a knowing smile.
“Yeah, it’ll get complicated when you run into yourself…“ Bill grinned, amused at the very prospect of it.
“He’s here, too?“ The Doctor’s face fell. Things were bound to get even more complicated with two of her former regenerations around!
“Well yeah, we were looking for him, lost him somewhere along the way…“ Bill explained. “Oh God…“
“What?“ The Doctor frowned, alarmed at the dread in her friend’s voice.
“Quickly, hide!“ She pulled the Doctor and Heather behind a make-shift beach bar that served all sorts of colourful cocktails. The other’s mirrored their actions. While they didn’t know what was going on, it seemed like the right course of action.
“Bill, what…“ The Doctor started to protest but forgot where she was going with it when her eyes fell on two very familiar people, making their way towards the bar.
“I really don’t know why you insisted on coming here.“ Missy gave a huff as they came within earshot.
“Why not? It’s fun.“ Clara retorted, amused at the displeasure on the Time Lady’s face.
“I don’t see what’s so exciting about drawing rainbows on your face and parading around the street.“ Missy rather stood out in her almost completely black outfit.
“Humour me.“ Clara retorted, who - in her colourful waitress uniform - looked the complete opposite. “I’ll make it worth your while.“ She looped her arm around Missy’s.
“You better.“ Missy pursed her lips, looking to the girl at her side, then continued to scan the crowd.
“If you didn’t want to come, why did you?“ Clara asked and scoffed as Missy paid her little attention and kept looking around: “You’re hoping the Doctor will be here, aren’t you. And here I was thinking you actually wanted to spend time with me.“
“Doctor, who are they?“ Yaz whispered to the Doctor, struggling to follow what was going on. Those two women clearly knew her and the Doctor seemed to know them too as all colour had drained from her face.
“Doctor, what do you want to do?“ Bill whispered to her but she didn’t respond, she was transfixed.
“Don’t get me wrong, Clara, dear, I enjoy a booty call as much as the next Time Lady.“ Missy smirked, looking back to Clara. “Particularly one where my sweet little plaything is intoxicated on sweet drinks and self righteousness but if I just happen to run into the Doctor and get the opportunity to kill him, that would be a two birds one stone kind of scenario. Particularly if I get to mortally embarrass him by putting you in a rather compromising position first.“ Missy ran her fingertips along Clara’s jaw, pushing her head up a little.
“Right, that’s it!“ The Doctor exclaimed. “Clara!“ She called, marching out of their hiding place.
“Huh?“ Clara and Missy looked around confused, annoyed at the moment being so rudely interrupted.
“Oh God…“ Bill groaned and they all rushed after the Doctor.
“Sorry dear, this is a private conversation, pick a number and I’ll get to you in a sec.“ Missy gave a dismissive wave of her hand, refocusing her attention on Clara but the Doctor wouldn’t have it.
“Missy, get your hands off her right now!“ The Doctor threatened.
“Who’s this, Doctor?“ Yaz asked, hoping for an explanation.
“Doctor?“ Missy raised her eyebrows, her lips pulling into a smirk.
“Doctor?“ Clara echoed, surprised, excited and embarrassed in equal measures.
“What are you doing with her??“ The Doctor demanded to know off Clara as she wildly gestured at her nemesis.
“My my my, isn’t this some sight. Finally had the upgrade as well?“ Missy ignored the comment as she regarded her childhood friend’s new body. She snaked her arm around Clara and pulled her close to her side.
“Missy!“ The Doctor growled. “Get away from her!“
“Why?“ Missy feigned innocence and hurt. “She asked me here? She wants me here. You could even say she wants me .“ She gave a triumphant smirk and the Doctor flushed scarlet with embarrassment and anger.
“Clara, is that…“
“Uhhh…“ Clara blushed even more deeply than the Doctor herself.
“Does anyone else feel like they're slightly out of the loop?“ Ryan piped up, trying to make sense of the situation in front of them. For whatever reason, the Doctor was interrupting what looked like a perfectly consensual, happy date…
“This is the Master.“ The Doctor spat angrily. “Earlier version… don’t let the lipstick fool you, just as deadly.“
“Lipstick makes for a wonderful weapon, particularly in the right hands. Just ask your lovely wife.“ Missy retorted with a smile. “Where is she, by the way? You’re not here single , are you?“ She tightened the grip on Clara for emphasis.
“Missy!“ Clara slapped the Time Lady’s shoulder. “Come on, we’re all here to have some fun, can’t we just do that.“
“I can have fun with you anywhere I like.“ Missy smirked, moving her hand lower to the hem of her skirt, just enough to make the Doctor nearly lose it. “Fine. Alright.“ She let go of her. “Be a good little puppy now and fetch me a drink then.“ She smirked at the Doctor who balled her hands to tight fits, looking like she was about to burst. Missy laying her hands on one of her friends like that was just too much.
“Anyone else for a cocktail?“ Clara turned back to the group, hoping to move to conversation along to where she wouldn’t be mortally embarrassed in front of her best friend.
“I’ll help you carry.“ Heather volunteered quickly following Clara to the bar.
“So the Master used to be a woman?“ Graham exclaimed at last, when the situation seemed to have defused a little.
“Spoilers.“ Missy tutted at him.
“This is going to get very complicated with everyone here.“ The Doctor had to agree. “You can’t reveal anything about anyone’s future or we could be ripping space and time apart.“
“Yes, this is quite the explosive combination.“ Missy had to concede as she regarded the Doctor’s entourage. “Which begs the question, Doctor, what brings you here? Other than the rainbow candy floss?“
“River invited me.“ The Doctor shot back, almost too quickly, as if to make the point that Missy didn’t have one over in her.
“Well, she’s here somewhere…“ Missy smirked, delighting in the fact that she knew something the Doctor didn’t. “Busy though, really busy…“
“Busy?“ The Doctor frowned. She didn’t like the way Missy was saying that but she couldn’t help her hearts somersaulting just a little bit at the confirmation that her wife was here somewhere. She would get to see her again. It had been such a long time.
“Your bride dances at numerous weddings, as usual.“ Missy hummed just as Clara and Heather returned with colourful cocktails. “Thank you dear.“ She took a bright red drink that was unsettlingly reminiscent of blood and took the opportunity to press a firm kiss to Clara’s lips. “Oh I should start doing this to all your companions, the look on your face!“ Missy laughed at the Doctor’s expression. She looked like she was about to throw a punch. “Or, you know, your wife… now that would be fun.“
“Watch it!“ The Doctor growled threateningly.
“Wherever is Professor Song?“ Missy hummed in a sing-song voice and sip her drink in delight.
“Clara!“ Everyone looked around as two female voices chanted in unison.
“Oh hello!“ Clara recognised Vastra and Jenny immediately as they were heading straight towards them.
“More old friends?“ Ryan asked and the Doctor’s face brightened. It was hard to worry about the timeline when it was so nice to see so many of her friends.
“Vastra! Jenny!“ She grinned at them in greeting and while Jenny frowned, confused, her wife’s superior senses helped her recognise her immediately.
“Doctor!“ The lizard woman looked at her in shock. “Now that makes a change.“ She looked her up and down, surprised, but not unpleasantly. Jenny must have noticed the look on her face as she gave Vastra’s arm a playful slap.
“Oi! Married!“ She reminded her. “Hello Doctor.“ She carried on cheerfully and gave a wave to everyone else, who, with the exception of Clara, they didn’t know yet.
“It’s getting rather crowded, isn’t it.“ Missy pursed her lips shooting Clara a glance with the intention of getting out of there soon but her companion was more concerned with meeting the Doctor’s other friends, past and present. “Oi!“ She shot Jack a glare who was just putting his arm around Clara all too familiarly.
“Sorry, dear.“ Vastra gave her wife an appeasing smile and turned back to the Doctor. “We didn’t expect to see you, Doctor. At least not like this.“
“Don’t tell me.“ The Doctor groaned, sensing where this was going.
“We didn’t mean to interrupt, we just thought, when we saw Miss Oswald, perhaps she’d know where the Doctor was, a younger one, that is. Suspenders too, but bow tie…“ Vastra explained apologetically. They had lost the Doctor they had arrived with quite a while ago.
“Is that who you’re here with?“ The Doctor asked, wincing at the prospect of yet another version of hers running around this place.
“Following an invitation from your wife, as I understand it. He didn’t want to go alone.“ Jenny added.
“Where is he now?“ The Doctor asked, sensing where all this was going.
“That is a very good question.“ Vastra agreed and they all looked around, everyone scanning the crowd for their particular Doctors.
“I already have a very bad feeling about this…“ The Doctor sighed.
“Are you sure you want to find your wife?“ Missy snickered, highly amused.
“I would if I knew how.“ The Doctor huffed, as a cheerful voice carried over from the other side of the cocktail bar:
“That River Song really is something, isn’t she.“ Everyone looked around and saw a blonde pulling herself onto a bar stool, setting down a nearly empty glass.
“Don’t say it like that.“ A second woman, brunette with shoulder length hair, huffed as she climbed onto a stool beside her. The Doctor looked around to her friends, none of whom recognised the two women, with the exception of herself and Missy who pursed her lips with intrigue. Now there were two people she hadn't seen in quite some time.
“Like what?“ Helen laughed, twirling the straw of her drink between her fingers.
“Like you admire the woman…“ Liv answered, clearly not enjoying the conversation.
“You’re just jealous.“ Helen retorted playfully.
“Jealous? Of what? Don’t be ridiculous.“ Liv shot back a little too quickly.
“Then stop sulking!“ Helen grinned. “The Doctor is having fun, leave him to it. And let’s have some fun too! These cocktails are really good…“ She waved at the bar keep for another.
“And really strong, you sure you want another one.“ Liv couldn’t help but point out.
“Most definitely.“ Helen nodded full of enthusiasm and nearly fell off her stool. Perhaps she had had a little bit too much after all. Liv was quick to hold her up. “Thank you Liv, you’re the best you know that?“ Helen smiled happily and reached out to stroke her friend’s cheek.
“I try.“ Liv replied, blushing at the gesture and her friend pulled her forward into a tight hug.
“No really, you are…“ Helen held her tightly, nuzzling into the crook of her neck and Liv didn’t know what to do with her hands. She nearly fell off her stool herself but she didn’t want to pull back either, so she wrapped her arms around Helen’s shoulders, glad she wouldn’t be able to see her blush. Helen was completely oblivious to her discomfort, she just carried on mumbling: “You’re so kind and clever and brave and… so pretty…“
“I think you’ve had enough to drink…“ Liv pulled away, momentarily worried for her friend’s state but Helen wouldn’t let her go. Instead she grabbed Liv’s head and kissed her.
“I had money on that, you know.“ Missy smirked as the Doctor just watched, delighted and confused in equal measures. How had she never picked up on this when they were travelling together?
“Oh God…“ Helen pulled away when she realised what she was doing. But only after thoroughly snogging her best friend’s face off. She blushed deeply, her intoxication seemingly gone in an instant as sobering reality hit her. Liv blinked overwhelmed still, her heart nearly jumping out of her chest. “Sorry, I was just… getting carried away and…“ Helen stammered, letting go of her but this time it was Liv that wouldn’t let go.
“You can do it again… you know in the spirit of… or just because you want to…“ Liv bit her bottom lip nervously.
“I don’t know why I did that…“ Helen carried on stuttering until Liv’s words sunk in: “What?“
“Oh Helen… my beautiful, clueless friend…“ Liv shook her head and laughed.
“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing.“ Helen admitted, blushing scarlet.
“I do.“ Liv assured her more confidently and leaned in to kiss her again when Helen stopped her.
“Liv…“
“What?“ Liv’s heart sank, wondering if Helen had thought better of it but she realised her friend was stopped for another reason. She was looking past her and Liv noticed they had an audience.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account.“ Missy gave a wave of her hand when she realised she had been spotted. Of course, she was the only one Helen Sinclair and Liv Chenka would recognise. “Wasn’t sure where we were, timelines and all!“
“You again!“ Helen exclaimed and Missy sighed. Why were the Doctor’s friends always so stuck up on the past? So what if she had kidnapped and nearly killed her?
“I was hoping we would bump into you again, now I can finally…“ Liv was about to go for Missy but the Doctor quickly intervened.
“No, no, no, none of that!“ She held Liv back and Missy chuckled.
“Come on, Doctor, if Miss Chenka wasn’t to play, that can be arranged.“ Her eyes flashed dangerously.
“Missy! Timelines!“ The Doctor scolded. The time lines were already all messed up, without anyone losing their life before their time. Missy gave a shrug.
“Doctor?“ Liv echoed, looking at the blonde in front of her bewildered. She took a step back, accepting that maybe violence was not the right course of action right now.
“While I’m sure the Doctor is elated to see you two finally stopped doing that silly little I don’t know how she’s feeling about me - but what if she doesn’t like me - but she’s from the past - but she’s from the future - I can’t ruin our friendship dance of yours, she’d rather like to know where her wife is and you seem to know.“ Missy sighed, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“The Doctor?“ Helen repeated incredulously.
“Wow…“ Was all Liv could manage staring at the blonde and Helen, gripped by a wave of jealousy, hit her arm:
“Liv!“
“Not to interrupt the happy reunion or whatever but I think your search is over, Doctor.“ Jack announced and everyone looked around to where he was pointing.
“She didn’t just invite you, did she…“ Missy chuckled as they watched River push through the crowd accompanied by no less than thirteen Doctors, all of them competing for her attention and affection.
“She invited all of us, didn’t she…“ The Doctor sighed, realising that the same message she had received would have popped up on every other Doctor’s psychic paper as well.
“Go on then, Doctor.“ Jack put his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her along. “Because if you don’t go over there, I might.“ He smirked. “Professor Song!“ He called before the Doctor could protest. River looked over to them, grinning, as she recognised Jack.
“Captain.“ She smirked flirtily as she sauntered over, while the other Doctors shot Jack annoyed glances.
“Think this is who you were looking for.“ Jack gave the Doctor a shove forward and decided that for once, he should be the wing man instead of going for the prize himself.
“Hello River.“ The Doctor managed a half smile and her feelings were incredibly conflicting. She was thrilled to see her wife; who looked beautiful in a flowing dress with the sun dancing in her curls. She was jealous that the other Doctor’s got there before her. And most importantly, she was annoyed: How could she have been so irresponsible?! All of space and time could rip apart if they put a foot wrong!
“My my my, now that makes a change.“ River smirked as she only took a moment to realise who she was. She stepped closer, looking her up and down far more obviously would have been necessary. The Doctor blushed and decided to go on the offensive to get herself out of the awkward situation:
“You know you will have to make them forget!“ She pointed to all her other selves. “This could end so badly!“
“Timelines will do that. Relax, Sweetie. None of you will remember a thing after crossing your own time stream. I can’t believe I’ve had to have this conversation fourteen times.“ River sighed but the expression on her face indicated that she had no problem repeating herself with her spouses. “Now, less sulking, how about a kiss for your old wife, hm?“ She smirked, grabbed the Doctor by the collar of her coat. She pulled her in for a kiss that quickly muted any sort of protest.
Just then, a confetti cannon went off, dousing the group in a rainbow of colours.
“Sorry, couldn’t help it.“ Missy grinned as the Doctor’s friends shot her accusing glances and she hid her sonic umbrella behind her back. “Anyway, I wonder if there are more versions of me about…“
The Doctor didn’t even notice. She was too occupied kissing her wife to the chorus of jealous calls from several of her past selves. She had missed her so much .
#doctor who#fanfiction#pride#Thirteen#thirteenth doctor#river song#ryan sinclair#graham o'brien#Yasmin Khan#Bill Potts#clara oswald#missy#the master#the doctor#madame vastra#Jenny Flint#Helen Sinclair#Liv chenka#Space wives#river x thirteen#thirteen/river#liv chenka/helen sinclair#clara/missy#madame Vastra/jenny flint#femslash#wlw#pride month#prompt#dw#fluff
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
for @antiforlexpropaganda. sorry it’s very very late (and a super thank you to @caitlesshea for rewatching the scene for me and writing a transcript so i didn’t have to)
Maria knocked again, a quick rap that echoed inside. It was early but she knew Alex was used to getting up with the sun so she wasn’t too worried about waking him up. Or at least she hadn’t been before she spent multiple minutes knocking on his door. Just as she was considering leaving and coming back later, the lock turned and the door cracked open.
Alex looked faintly surprised to see her. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he accused lightly.
Maria shrugged. “Well, I learned you and all of our friends have been lying to me about aliens and murders and resurrection, so I haven’t been feeling particularly social. That being said I fell for your ex, so I’ve decided that even though I’m not speaking to them you and I are even?” She questioned hesitantly. She hadn’t actually spoken to Alex about Michael since that day at the bar and she definitely hadn’t talked to him before or after her and Michael’s very brief foray into a relationship but she knew he had heard about it. There was no way he hadn’t.
There was a look in Alex’s eyes, something Maria couldn’t place, but it was gone before she could try to figure it out. “That’s fair,” he replied. “What’s up?”
Maria let out a small breath of relief. She held up her mom’s laptop in answer. “Forgot the password.”
Alex raised his eyebrows. “And you want me to use my NSA intelligence cryptology training to hack into your laptop?”
Maria sent him a coy look in answer, unwilling to come out and say that yes, she wanted him to commit a crime for her. Thankfully, Alex let out a little huff of a laugh. “How does any straight man survive you?”
“They don’t,” Maria grinned and follow Alex inside when he stepped aside. He led her into the living room and settled on his couch, his right leg stretching out in front of him. He waved a hand to invite her to have a seat. She did, perching herself on the edge of the bench in front of Alex’s piano and looked around. She had stopped by right after Alex moved in but hadn’t been by since. He hadn’t done too much with the place but it definitely looked less like waystation now. More like a home.
Alex sat patiently as she looked around. She felt his eyes on her but she waited a moment before turning to him.
“How come you’re not mad at me?” She finally asked. It was what she had feared, why she had waited so long to come around.
“For Michael?” Alex asked, like there was anything else he could be angry at her for. She nodded and he sighed. “The mess between us will never be your fault. And plus you didn’t know my history with him until after you hooked up. That’s my fault. I should’ve told you.”
“No,” Maria argued. “When I found out I should’ve stopped.” Because while she hadn’t known in Texas, she’d definitely known after.
“Yeah, okay, you should’ve.” He was only agreeing with what she’d just said herself but it hurt to hear him say it. “But you couldn’t. How could I be mad at you for falling for Michael Guerin? It’s the easiest thing in the world.”
Maria wasn’t sure she agreed. “Yeah, until it’s not.”
Alex shook his head, a soft look coming over his face. “Don’t write him off yet, okay? He keeps secrets because of how much he loves Max and Isobel, not because of how much he loves you.” Maria privately thought it was a little early (or late depending on you looked at it) to be calling it love.
She had to ask. “You told me once that you would stay in Roswell forever if the guy from the museum would just keep kissing you. But you did leave. What happened?”
Alex closed off and looked away. “He stopped being that guy.” His eyes flicked away, focusing on something behind her. “I begged him to get it together, then he got busted for stealing hubcaps.”
“He was pushing you away. He does that.” Maria had watched him do it to Max Evans countless times over the years. “He hurts people to see if they let him go. Made out with Lindsey right in front of me.” There was that look on Alex’s face again, the one she couldn’t identify.
“Yeah, well,” Alex shrugged. “I didn’t need much pushing. He’d become this walking bar fight and I just could not deal.”
“Hey,” Maria said softly, aching to reach out to him but feeling like it wouldn’t be well received. “You grew up in an abusive home. It makes sense that you didn’t want to be around all that anger.”
“Yeah, and then the irony of enlisting to escape violence,” Alex huffed. “He was locked up the day I left. I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”
The words felt loaded, more so than Maria could understand. She didn’t know what to say. As the silence stretched on, she cleared her throat and stood up to get the laptop she’d placed on the counter on the way in. “So. Want to show me some of those famed skills of yours?”
Luckily, Alex took the out and followed her over to the counter, easing into the seat and lifting it open. He had to push aside an empty coffee cup and plate to make room. She almost offered to move them to the sink but Alex quickly ignored them so so did she. Maria watched him work for a few moments before asking, “are you in?”
Alex hit a few more keys before the screen changed to the home screen. Maria let out a sigh of relief. Alex eyed her carefully. “Did I just commit a felony?”
Maria shifted in front of the computer, absently settling in Alex’s lap. She only had a moment to enjoy the feeling before realizing how stiff he was, his hands in the air a careful distance away from her body. Swallowing her faint disappointment, Maria straightened with a wry look. “It’s my mom’s computer. Her nurse said that two weeks before she went missing when she wasn’t trying to escape she was talking to someone online. I wanted to find out who.”
“They let her have internet?”
“She’s a patient, not an inmate,” Maria retorted. Alex stiffened but didn’t say anything. “She uses her computer to watch Netflix and stuff. I don’t know. I just want to see her browser history.”
Alex clicked around quickly. “Somebody cleared her search history,” he announced before tapping away again.
“No,” Maria shook her head, suddenly realizing that they were really treading the line between concern and invasion of privacy. “My mom was the last one to use this computer. If she deleted it, she obviously didn’t want anyone to know what she was doing online.”
“You know that if somebody clears their search history, they’re usually hiding something,” Alex warned gently.
Maria scoffed. “I thought she wasn’t telling me her password because she couldn’t remember it. If she didn’t want me to see something then hey...” She shrugged.
“All the more reason to see it,” Alex offered.
Maria blinked. “I’m not investigating my mom. I just want to know how might have taken her, but she’s a victim. I’m not gonna invade her privacy over it. She has a right to her secrets.” Alex shot her a look at that but Maria ignored it. Maria heard a noise from down the hall but Alex didn’t even look up so she ignored it.
His phone buzzed before he could say anything and he checked it quickly. “It’s Valenti. I’ve got to go.”
About that... “I like Kyle,” Maria started, “but he was terrible to you for so long. How have you forgiven him?”
“Kyle and I aren’t friends,” Alex objected. “I’m doing this because it’s my responsibility. I’m doing this for Liz. You know, something I learned in the last 10 years is that sometimes showing up is the most important thing.” It felt like a rebuke and Maria glared at him for it. He shrugged. “Can’t stay mad forever. People have a right to their secrets,” he shot back at her.
Maria rolled her eyes. She was about to reply when a louder noise came from down the hall and Maria finally registered it for what it was: the sound of water running coming from the bathroom. Maria’s eyes widened as she looked around the kitchen again and noticed the two coffee mugs and two dirty plates. “Alex,” she hissed. “Someone’s here.”
Alex raised any eyebrow. “I’m aware.”
Maria huffed a laugh. “Sorry I interrupted.”
He shrugged. “You didn’t.”
Maria glanced down the hall though she couldn’t see anything. “Is he hot?”
Alex hummed. He closed the laptop and stood up, rounding the counter to fully enter the kitchen. He busied himself pouring another cup of coffee. She was about to refuse one herself when she realized he never offered her one. “In that sex-in-a-truck-never-introduce-him-to-your-momma-kinda-way,” he replied idly. It took a moment for the words to register. The realization hit her a split second before Michael’s voice carried down the hallway.
“Where’s the other towel?” He shouted at Alex.
“Under the sink!” Alex called back. He gazed evenly at Maria as he lifted the coffee to his lips and took a sip.
“What the fuck?”
Alex tilted his head in question but didn’t say anything.
“No,” Maria stated. “Seriously, Alex. What the fuck? Guerin’s here?”
“He sleeps over occasionally.”
“Occasionally.”
“Mhmm.” Alex looked at her. “Problem?”
“Yes,” Maria replied immediately. It had only been three days since she kicked Guerin to the curb and he was already in Alex’s bed? “Is he incapable of sleeping alone? Were you just waiting for me to get tired of putting up with his shit?”
Alex’s gaze grew cold. “Since you never bothered to tell me you two were starting something, I can’t imagine why I would be waiting for you to end it.”
Maria glared. “You knew. You knew we were together. You knew where he parked his Airstream.”
“It was hard to miss,” he agreed.
“Why is he here?” Maria demanded.
“Currently, he’s taking a shower,” Alex replied.
“Alex.”
“Maria.” He took another sip of his coffee. “I didn’t realize I needed your approval on who’s allowed to use my shower.”
“We broke up three days ago and you’re already having sleepovers with him? Did you think for a second how I would feel about this?”
“Strangely,” Alex mused, “my relationship with Michael has nothing to do with you. And also, you didn’t seem to think about how i would feel about you dating him.” Maria flinched.
She opened her mouth to reply when movement down the hall froze her in her tracks. Michael had his jeans and socks on, his shirt in one hand, a towel in the other as he scrubbed at his hair. “Thanks for letting me-” he froze when he looked up to see Maria. The hand holding the towel slowly dropped to his side. “Maria. What are you doing here?”
“She wanted me to hack into her mom’s laptop,” Alex answered for her. There was a strange note in his voice and Maria turned to him only to find him gazing appreciatively at Michael. The look in his eyes made something in her stomach churn.
“Oh.” Michael blinked. “Well. I should get going.”
“No,” Maria said quickly. “I should go.” She snatched up the laptop and fled with only a hurried thank you over her shoulder to Alex. Only when the front door was closed behind her did she stop and close her eyes. She didn’t understand it, she’d been the one to end things with Michael, so why did it hurt to see him in Alex’s home, clearly comfortable and not out of place at all?
----
Alex took another sip of his coffee as Michael stared at Maria’s back as she almost literally ran out the door. “You’re an ass,” he accused lightly.
Michael shrugged. “Did you want me to tell her I was in the kitchen when she came in and heard your entire conversation? I still don’t know how she didn’t see me.”
Alex didn’t know either. Michael had been downing his second cup of coffee when Maria had come in and he hadn’t moved until Maria went for the laptop.
“I’m sorry,” Michael said suddenly. Alex looked up at him in surprise. Michael’s hands were clenched around his shirt and towel. “For fucking up that summer. For not saying goodbye. I didn’t want to have to watch you leave.”
“Thank you,” Alex said quietly. He understood Michael better now, understood why he’d acted the way he had that summer, but it was still nice to hear. He cleared his throat. “You planning on staying here again tonight?”
“If it’s not a problem,” Michael confirmed. “The generator is still on the fritz and I haven’t figured out how to fix it yet.”
“Guest room’s yours as long as you need,” Alex assured him. It wasn’t the first time Michael had crashed at his place when the Airstream was less than hospitable and Alex was sure it wouldn’t be the last. When it happened, they functioned well as roommates and nothing more, even when they were on better terms. Neither one had ever been willing to blur the lines between their relationship and their temporary living situation. No matter what other people, Maria, thought, nothing had happened between them the night before. And nothing would happen so long as Michael needed a place to crash.
Michael nodded at him in thanks and tugged his shirt on. “I’ve got to get to work. I’ll see you tonight?”
“I’ll order Chinese.”
“Sounds good.”
They exchanged soft smiles before Michael headed out, a quick detour to toss the towel in the laundry room on his way. Alex fixated on the motion for long moments after Michael left, at the easy way Michael moved around his home. It made his chest flutter warmly.
It wasn’t a bad feeling. Not at all.
85 notes
·
View notes
Text
numerous issues with “The Aftermath of Seaworld”
When I get time to do so (aka when I’m done with the documentary), I’m likely going to make a video version of this going into the details.
But for right now, I’ve made this. Both as a guideline for me and so everyone can begin to get an idea of the severity of issues involved.
Researching things is time-consuming and can be very difficult - believe me, I know. But I’m of the mind that if you’re making content with the intent of educating people, you have a responsibility to perform a certain level of due diligence. It IS okay to express uncertainty or doubt if you have it. It is NOT okay to confidently assert things that you do not know with certainty.
The video has an anticap slant, and I’m obviously not disagreeing on that front. But again: if you’re gonna go through the trouble of teaching people something. Bare minimum... please make sure it’s actually correct.
***
1) x ‘founded in 1964 and based out of Florida’ - ???? Seaworld definitively began on the west coast, in San Diego, CA. And given that the first park opened in early 1964… things came together before that. Uh?
2) x ‘four people founded Seaworld [...]’ For one… it wasn’t originally conceived as a restaurant, it was originally conceived as an underwater bar/lounge. Two… calling the four guys involved in founding the place “frat brothers” is fucking ridiculous and completely overlooks a) how each was actually involved and b) the overall significance of their contributions to the field as individuals. Hint: like it or not, they were important and did a lot!
3) x If one is going to bring up SWBGCF/rescues while talking about the literal founding of SW, it gives the impression that it’s been around for that duration. It hasn’t.
It’s actually a bit unclear when SW started an organized rescue program, but the Fund itself and all that it did came about much later. The rescue information and how it’s presented is actually INCREDIBLY complex, nuanced, and has a fascinating history (from a “bad company behaving badly” perspective). Oversimplifying this, to this degree and in this misinformative way, does the facts of the situation an INCREDIBLE disservice.
4) x [assertive statement about what the name Shamu means] ….Uh actually there’s several explanations for the name Shamu, and the most likely one IMO seems to be the “she-namu” one, not the “friend of Namu” one(? What is this even based on.)
4b) It’s not quite clear if she’s saying “Namu was the first ever orca to be displayed and perform shows” or or Namu was the first to be displayed and, like Shamu, performed shows. Either way, Moby Doll was the first to truly be displayed to the public, not Namu.
5) x ‘Namu died after one year in captivity and you’d think that this might deter Seaworld from doing the same thing again…’ Seaworld truly had nothing to do with Namu. And they leased/took possession of Shamu before Namu died. ‘Again’? What?
6) x “Now, PETA paints a pretty disturbing picture…” [while showing Okura’s artwork]
This video segment is, and this is putting it nicely, a pile of poorly-researched BULLSHIT.
-Yes, PETA talks about Shamu’s capture, re: the harpooning of her mother. This Youtuber cannot apparently be arsed to look more than 1 Google search into this, as she proceeds to dismiss the information as potentially fabricated. There are two detailed accounts of Shamu’s capture that I’m aware of - in books - and though they have some slight conflicts, it’s absolutely NOT in doubt that the female who was very likely Shamu’s mother was 1) harpooned, 2) died from her injuries and 3) this had been done to make her easier to catch/locate because there was a fucking buoy attached to the harpoon. Which she dragged around for at least 24 hours prior dying.
So maybe don’t dismiss that as PETA hysteria, maybe TRY to determine the truth of the matter, which would inform one that it is both true and completely horrifying.
-In addition, Okura is an awesome individual who has worked very hard to create a variety of informative artwork for our cause. Okura is NOT associated with PETA and it’s borderline libel in my eyes to use their artwork in this dismissive manner when the primary sources of it can be easily identified online, with full explanations and everything.
Do I take special offense to this because of the misuse of artwork? Absolutely. Artists get disrespected enough online. I’m tired of it. This kind of laziness IS NOT acceptable.
7) x ‘timeline is fuzzy about when Shamu died’ …………… it’s…. It’s really not … newspapers are pretty clear about it…..
8) x [complete and utter oversimplification of the lifespan issue, which is not acceptable for anything published in 2020. It just isn’t. If you’re going to bring it up like this, either do the legwork and get into the weeds or stay out.]
8b) [same for reproductive ages. sigh]
9) x if we’re going to talk about when Cornell was involved with Seaworld it’s very important to specify when Cornell was involved with Seaworld and not make it seem like it’s present tense.
10) x “both were rescued by Seaworld” - uh? no. Zero orcas have been rescued by Seaworld. Literally none.
The infected-jaw orca was Sandy, whose story is complex and certainly does not involve Seaworld until much later. And many of the orcas in that time period had bullet wounds, often only identified post-mortem because they didn’t seem to hurt the animals much.
Also, unflinchingly blending 70s captivity ethics with modern ones is also complete nonsense?
11) x [tilikum coming from sealand] inhales I am going to make an entire video centered on this fucking subject because it’s one of the single most profound arguments for Seaworld being garbage as assessed by US government agencies in the 90s yet everyone utterly fails to mention this. Why?!
12) x what on earth is this nonsense re: quoting a quote from Zimmerman’s article - which has already been removed from its original context, so the original context is not available - and then penalizing the quote for existing as if Zimmerman’s article were the context? That is offensively disingenuous.
I honestly don’t know what the original context is, either - but it’s wildly inappropriate to act as if the Zimmerman article is.
13) x this is relatively minor but ‘Paul Sprong’? You literally have his name on the screen. And then mis-reading his age too? While asserting it from a static article published years ago? Effort? Where is it?
14) x ‘another trainer, Peter’ ….. Ken Peters….
15) [weirdly glossing over the widely-available list of orca-trainer injuries/aggressions, despite it being central to the point.]
16) x This pilot whale outrage certainly happened but it was pretty clearly Blackfish that started the cascade of woes for Seaworld. Who has ever asserted this?
17) if you’re gonna just rehash blackfish, tell people to go watch blackfish.
18) x I’ve already gone over the context issue with Seaworld calling out Howard’s statement in Blackfish here (point 23). Which is to say, IN CONTEXT in Blackfish it’s clear what Mr. Garrett is talking about but, divorced from that, it sounds incorrect.
But this Youtuber AMPLIFIES the issue by doubling down on the assertion with “no record of a killer whale doing any harm to anyone in the wild.”
The surfer event should always be mentioned. Yes, there’s absolutely room for doubt. But there’s also a clear demarcation between an accidental attack (eg mistaken identity, as was likely for the surfer) and intentional one (eg the incidents at marine parks.) Why do people kneecap themselves on this point
18b) please stop acting like Luna represents orcas in general.
19) x “Howard, for all of his research…” … while referring to David Duffus’ b-roll and statements. Uh.
20) x Apparently this Youtuber has single-handedly resolved the dorsal fin issue. You know, the thing that hasn’t been properly researched ever, that has been subject to a ton of debate, that isn’t 100% settled for a variety of reasons, and almost everyone talks about in terms of theories and likely possibilities.
21) x Alexis Martinez wasn’t “torn to shreds.” In a space where even moderate exaggerations are often penalized harshly by the opposition, this kind of blatant nonsense is not welcome. Plus, the reality’s bad enough… you don’t have to make anything up!
22) x *sighs. points at own webpage*
23) Talking about the shows stopping without acknowledging how that’s a bit of a farce is something else. In addition to apparently just flipping to buying what Seaworld’s selling re: its ‘improved image.’
***
Tl;dr video is so unrelentingly full of errors ranging from small to egregious it makes me seriously concerned for the veracity of the rest of this person’s content.
The maker of the video provided a list of their sources in their video description, which I will have time to look through in detail later. The above is solely a response to the information they present IN THE VIDEO - which, is very important because let’s be real: a lot of people are not going to look at the list of sources. People don’t even do it when citing papers (no really, you’d be surprised, fml.)
For anyone who wants to whinge that I haven’t linked or asserted any sources of my own for my claims… well, remember what I said about time-consuming and ‘I’m busy’? Yhea. Getting all of that together will be part of making a video. So if you want to shrug loudly at my list here… you can, that’s your prerogative, I’m happy to say I DGAF if that’s your takeaway.
What I hope, is that if there’s anything I’ve made clear over the While of running this blog, it’s that I don’t fuck around when it comes to sources and information and do my best to provide what information exists, all of it, not just cherrypicked bits and bobs.
Anyways. Here’s step 0 at least. Please don’t share that video. Pretty please.
480 notes
·
View notes
Text
Talk Me Down
Oof, not me disappearing for like a two months. I’m so sorry! I have the attention span of a goldfish and I’ve been fandom hopping. I sadly hyperfocus in and out, and then I’m back (currently stuck on Prodigal Son again, if anyone’s interested!). D: Still working on the prompts in waiting, if I haven’t gotten around to yours yet!
Anywho! Thank you so much for the prompt! It was a lot of fun to work on, and I’m sorry it took so long! Hopefully this was what you were looking for, I thought it was pretty fluffy!
Warnings: Panic/ Anxiety attacks, light angst
Word Count: 2,731 (Sorry it’s a bit short!)
Summary: Read the prompt above!
(Gif is not mine! All credit goes to the creator! :D)
You hated when you and the Doctor would get separated. It always filled you with a sense of dread. You knew he didn’t mean it—he'd never try to intentionally hurt you, but the two of you always somehow broke apart.
It wasn’t as bad when you were on earth—defeating whichever alien decided that earth and humanity was an easy target—but in space, when the Doctor would get carried away and leave you to fend for yourself like he tended to do with companions, you always felt like you were suffocating whenever he did that.
You loved travelling with him, and you were confident in your ability to fend for yourself, but you were just filled with a sinking feeling of doubt whenever he’d leave you alone on a planet you didn’t know.
Today was no different than any other day.
Then any other adventure.
You couldn’t for the life of you remember which planet the Doctor had been raving about when he’d landed the TARDIS. You’d followed along like you always did, excited for the adventure, but with that small inkling of doubt in the back of your mind.
He’d taken your hand with a wide smile and led you along. He talked your ear off, telling you of the planet’s history, the inhabitants. His personal favorites about the planet. You liked listening to him, listening to him ramble and gesture enthusiastically about what interested him.
And then you were running.
You were starting to think that there wasn’t a place in the universe where the Doctor wasn’t at least one person’s target. Where he hadn’t accidentally wronged someone.
He’d dragged you along by your hand before you’d come to a fork in the road. He’d looked both directions calculatingly, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before chancing a glance back at you. Then, his eyes seemed to go through you and to whomever happened to be chasing you, which seemed to make some sort of decision for him if the way his eyes hardened was anything to go off.
His hand broke away from yours, and then he was giving you the slightest push towards one side of the fork with flustered order of “Go!” falling from his lips as he turned hurriedly and shot down the other road.
Your feet moved on autopilot as you sprinted down the path he’d directed you towards, instantly missing the warmth and comfort of the Doctor’s hand in your own. You weren’t sure how long you continued down the road. How long you ran—how far you got.
You were sure no one was chasing you. You couldn’t hear any other sounds besides your own feet pounding along the gravel, and you heart thrumming in your chest in both exertion and anxiety.
They wanted the Doctor, not you. Whatever it was the man had done to wrong these people, it had been long before you’d started travelling with him. Long before you’d even met the man.
That still didn’t stop the clawing worry in your stomach. Was the Doctor okay? Would he come find you? Would he find you?
What if he wasn’t okay? What if you’d be stranded here forever? Not only did you not think you’d ever be able to make it back to the TARDIS, but there was absolutely no way you’d be able to get her to fly even if you did somehow make it back.
You weren’t a Timelord. The TARDIS wouldn’t fly for you, even if you tried.
You’d be stranded here.
Somewhere deep in the back of your mind a tiny voice was whispering to trust the Doctor. He hadn’t gotten the two of you into any serious danger yet. He took care of you, and you’d never been injured beyond bruises and scrapes. He always came for you. Always found you and swept you back into the TARDIS and far away from the threat.
He’d always taken care of you--
But the larger, louder calling in your head shouted your fears. He wouldn’t find you. He was dead. They’d captured him. You were alone. Alone on a planet you didn’t even know the name of. You’d never see the Doctor again. You’d never see your friends and family, or planet again.
You were stranded.
Your movements slowed, and before you could fight to keep yourself up, your knees buckled under you. You fell to the dirty road below; your knees and hands scraping on the gravel.
You were stuck here. On this strange planet. Without the Doctor.
Alone.
You crawled to the side of the road, hiding yourself the best you could manage in a bush of some sort. It dug uncomfortably into your body, but you couldn’t be bothered. What did it matter?
A gaspy cry fell from you lips as you coiled in on yourself, pulling your knees to your chest as you buried your face in the fabric of your pants. It was a sinking feeling of loneliness—fear of the unknown environment.
You could barely force in any air. It felt like you were dying. This was it. You were going to die of lack of oxygen—which was weird considering the Doctor had told you this planet had the same atmosphere as earth. There was plenty of oxygen, but you couldn’t manage to suck any in.
You struggled for each gasp of air you got.
Your head was an uncomfortable mix of lightheadedness and pounding headache, and you were sure you were crying. Tears slipping down your cheeks as your thoughts consumed you. The bigger, louder voice washing over the tiny pleading one like a title wave.
How were you going to make it out of this? How would you survive this strange alien planet without the Doctor by your side? Your fingers subconsciously dug into your forearms where they were wrapped around your legs, holding your knees snug against you.
“(Y/N)!” You heard, but it sounded far away. Far away and drown out. Why did it feel like you were underwater? You struggled to suck in another breath as a foreign touch settled on your hand, curling to just slightly grip around yours, “you need to take a breath, c’mon, deep in...”
You tried to steady your thoughts, taking a stuttery intake of air like the voice suggested, and it was quick to cool your lungs down. That suffocating feeling eased the slightest amount. The soft voice talking you through this was steadying you—anchoring you back, “good, good, my dear, now out? You’re doing perfect.”
It took a second before you let yourself blow out the air in your lungs, “perfect,” the voice told you, soft and comforting, “very good, another one? Nice and slow, alright? Breath with me, in and out.”
You sucked in another breath, waited for the hand around yours to tighten just the slightest before blowing that breath out too. Now that you could breathe through the mist of anxiety, you were desperate to pull in more air. You weren’t sure how long you’d been lost—unsure how long you’d gone without a decent breath.
“Good,” the voice whispered lowly as a second hand settled on your forearm, thumb rubbing softly along your arm, “you’re doing brilliantly, (Y/N). Come back to me now, alright?”
You weren’t sure where you’d gone, but you’d try for the voice.
You forced your eyes open, unsure when you’d really shut them. You couldn’t remember squeezing them shut, but it was almost a relief when you let your face relax. You continued with the deep breaths, replaying the words that had been spoken to you in your head—in and out.
Before you, dropped in a panicked kneel, was the Doctor. He looked out of breath, and frantic. Worried eyes searching your face for... you weren’t sure what he was looking so intently for. The worry didn’t look quite right on the usually so confident and narcissistic man.
It was definitely the Doctor though.
“Doctor?” you wheezed out, uncoiling just enough to settle a hand on his chest to test if he was real or not. You hand flattened against him, and then one of his hands was pulling away from you to settle over top of your hand.
“I’m here,” he promised, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m here now. You’re alright.”
You let yourself fall forwards into him with the confirmation that it was him. That the Doctor was real before you. Alive. Here. You weren’t stranded. You weren’t alone anymore. A rush of that suffocating separation anxiety flowed out with your next heaving breath.
You buried your face in his suit jacket as his arms wrapped tightly around you, “keep breathing, love, alright? Deep breaths for me.”
It was easier to suck in the breaths with the Doctor in close proximity. Even if it really should be harder to get any air through his clothes. You managed to wrap your arms around him too, holding him close.
The two of you were at an awkward angle, the Doctor still on his knees in front of you, and you in an awkward mess of desperate limbs. Neither of you seemed to mind the odd position much. The longer you sat, the stiffer you got, but it was the furthest thing from your mind.
“You’re doing so good,” the Doctor whispered into your hair, “I’m sorry. So, so sorry.”
“You’re okay,” you whimpered out against his jacket.
“I am,” the Doctor agreed tenderly, “it was a misunderstanding. I’m okay, and you’re okay. We’re both okay, alright? Deep breaths.”
You just curled yourself in closer to him, afraid that you’d lose him if you let go. Your thoughts still ran rampant in your head, anxious and panicked, but the longer you forced in breaths, and sat in the Doctor’s arms with his hands trailing along your back and petting down your hair, the more everything eased away.
The Doctor didn’t say much else as you slowly calmed down in his arms. With your breaths finally starting to even out, he didn’t keep reminding you. But whenever you slowed, or swallowed a shallow intake, he’d calmly remind you again.
You didn’t know how long the two of you sat there on the ground, on some planet you didn’t even remember the name of. The Doctor made no move to get up, to move, and to speak until you’d calmed. Until you were okay, and breath steadily.
“I’m sorry.” The Doctor told you once more, his chin settled on the top of your head as he held you close.
“What for?” You finally asked when it no longer felt like you were fighting for every breath. His heart beats below your ear calmed you down, focused your attention. Reminded you he was here. That even if your head was telling you that you were alone, that you definitely weren’t.
“We shouldn’t have split up,” the Doctor told you, “I should’ve kept you with me, but I needed you to be safe, and I knew they were after me, and not you, so I sent you away.”
“I thought you were gone,” you squeezed your eyes shut, forcing another breath just because you could, “I thought you were gone, and I didn’t know where I was. I... I thought I’d be stuck here forever. I was alone.”
“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your head, “I’m sorry. I was wrong. We should’ve stayed together. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). It was stupid, I know you’re different from other companions, and I still thrusted you into something that made you uncomfortable. I just needed you to be okay.”
“I’m okay,” you breathed out, but you weren’t sure if that was his sake, or a reminder for yourself. You’d never had a panic attack quite as heavy. Never one that broke you down like this one had.
“You’re okay,” the Doctor repeated, tightening his hold. You didn’t know if he really believed your words—his tone was pretty neutral. “You’re okay now. I’ve got you. I’ll always come for you okay?”
“Okay,” you swallowed, letting your forehead settle against his chest.
“Think you’re okay to stand? You weren’t hurt, were you?”
“No,” you shook you head, pulling away enough to look up at the Doctor, “I’m okay... you were right, no one came after me. I... I just, I tripped, I think.”
You pulled your hands away to look down at them, frowning at the scratches from the gravel. The Doctor took your hands into his own, leaning away just enough to look down at your palms. “I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault,” you told him with a small laugh that didn’t sound quite right. Not as okay as you’d hoped it would’ve. You ignored the kicked-puppy look the Doctor shot in your direction as you pushed yourself up, using the Doctor’s shoulder as support before offering a hand to help him up too.
It wasn’t his fault—he'd been protecting you. You’d always been a bit clingy anyways. The separation anxiety wasn’t new either—you'd just... never expected it could get so much worse on a planet that wasn’t your own. Being alone on a planet that you didn’t know; one not even in your own galaxy had hit you harder than ever.
The Doctor took your offered hand, accepting the help up, but he didn’t look convinced by your words.
The need to not let go was clearly just as evident in him as it was in you. You went to pull you hand back after he was standing, but he didn’t let up his grip. You didn’t mind though, just squeezing his hand in return.
He pulled you closer by your hand, only letting go when you were close enough to wrap his arms around. This hug was a lot more comfortable, standing instead of whatever odd sitting thing you’d been doing before. You could push closer, and he held you tighter.
You tucked in against his body much easier.
You melted into the embrace, letting him hold you. You weren’t sure if it was for your sake at this point, or his own, but you didn’t question it. Whether for him, or for you, it was a tenderness you needed right now. Comfort and protection from the Doctor.
“You scared me,” the Doctor whispered against your head.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” you murmured.
He pulled back enough to cup your face in his hands, thumbs trailing under your eyes with a feathery touch, wiping away the tear tracks with a frown, “I didn’t think my plan through, and it put you at risk, even if it wasn’t my intention. The need to make sure you were safe was stronger than the logic that you don’t know this planet. That I was pushing you into the unknown.”
“I know you were trying to protect me, I just...”
“Not the right way,” the Doctor decided. You felt him gave a light shake of his head, “it’s not protecting you if it manifests like this, (Y/N). It was the wrong choice because you panicked, because of me. I won’t do that again, I assure you.”
“No more splitting up?” You tilted your head at him. It made you feel very clingy, and you were sure your voice sounded more relieved than you would’ve liked, but the Doctor just gave you a tiny smile, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“No,” he leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead, “no more splitting up—especially not on planets you don’t know. I can’t promise we’ll never get separated again, but I can promise I’ll always keep you safe, and I’ll always find you again.”
“I know,” you swallowed, nuzzling up against him and pulling him back into a tight hug. “I trust you.”
“I’m glad,” you could hear the playful smile in the Doctor’s voice, “now, what do you say we head back to the TARDIS and get off this planet. We can clean your hands up too.”
“Sounds good,” you returned the small smile. You wiped your hands against your pants halfheartedly.
The Doctor wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side easily. You curled in close, pressing the side of your face against his side. His thumb swept along your shoulder, arm keeping to tight and sheltered against him.
Protective, but comforting all the same.Comforting to the both of you.
<><><><>
Heyy! Thanks for taking the time to read this! I hoped you liked it! As always, if it wasn’t what you were looking for, feel free to prompt me again!
Hopefully the anxiety/panic attack was realistic enough, I’ve only got me to go off, but I know it’s different for everyone! Also, alternative title suggestions would be appreciated if you’ve got one!
#Tenth Doctor#tenth doctor x reader#tenth doctor x you#ten#10th doctor#10th doctor x reader#10th doctor x you#dw#doctor who 2005#reader insert#fanfiction#fanfic#TARDIS#writing prompt#writing requests
201 notes
·
View notes
Text
Deja Vu
Part 1
Word Count: 2.3k
Summary: Kind of angst for now, backstory, arguments, and extremely slow burn. Also future poly
He’s insufferable
He’s arrogant. He’s rude. He’s annoying.
He is insufferable.
And I have to deal with him.
Of all the people Mrs. Moore could have partnered me with, she just had to choose him. It’s not like we even put a show on in public, and it’s sad but, everybody knows about the feud between us that started four years ago.
I had just moved to town from three states over, and I didn’t know anyone my age. After a few weeks of summer went by of not knowing anyone, my dad convinced me to join the district’s hockey team. He told me that it was because he wanted me to make some friends, but I knew that he really just couldn’t afford to pay a babysitter. And my mother, well, she wasn’t in the picture. So I ended up having to go through the lost and found at six different ice rinks in Minnesota in order to get all of my equipment. At first, I was wary of the idea, but my dad said that it was kind of like shopping, so I agreed to go with him. Originally, we would have only had to search five rinks, but I couldn’t find any skates that were my size. After almost twelve hours of rummaging through sweaty pads and broken sticks, I had myself a full set of hockey gear.
Now I was on to the next challenge: How To Skate. I had been ice skating a couple of times before for birthday parties, but I’ve never been able to skate at the level that I had to in order to survive during an entire hockey game. I thought maybe it would just come to me naturally after attending a few practices. Until I did some research at the school library. Apparently, it takes a person at least two months to learn how to ice skate. But ignoring the negative, I decided to focus on the positive. ‘I could at least balance myself...and besides, I probably would be on the bench for every game...and just remember, you’re doing this for friends.’ These were the only three things that ran through my mind on the way to the ice rink. I was honestly terrified. I was scared that the other kids would make fun of me, or worse, ignore me. Well, maybe being made fun of is worse, but at least then they’d acknowledge me. I had to stop myself from thinking about that kinda stuff. I haven’t even attended a single hockey practice yet, and now I’ve added at least four more stressors into my life.
When my dad pulled up to the building, my stomach was tingling. My hands were clammy, and my eyebags had definitely seen better days. I wanted to run so fast away from this place, and not move at all at the same time.
“Nerves,” my dad said. He must’ve noticed from my frozen state in the backseat of his minivan. “You’ll do great! Just don’t break any bones.” He chuckled at the end in hopes that it would come off as a joke, but that is definitely not how it sounded.
To my surprise, I was the first kid that had arrived. I didn’t know much about the team, but I did know that most of the other kids had been on it since they were five or six years old. I was almost the exact opposite, thirteen and just starting. I wasn’t really sure why I was the first person to arrive, and it only added to my nervousness.
I tried to brush it off as I saw someone outside in the parking lot leave a car holding a bag like you had. I could hear his muffled voice. “I’ll see you at six.” Whoever he was talking to must have responded because the boy spoke again, “yup, love you too.” A parent maybe. A mom? I could faintly make out a silhouette in the driver’s seat, but the glare from the sun blocked most of the car window.
Thank god someone else was here because at least now I knew that I was in the right place. But another problem arose. Now, different things were rushing through my head about what to say to the other boy. Should I make a joke, ask a question? Simply say ‘hello’? I didn’t know. So, I decided to settle on the most stupid thing anyone could ever say.
“Are you on the hockey team?” What kind of question is that? He has a bag, this time is cut out specifically for hickey practice, and he has a hockey stick with him. Why else would he be here?
He looked up from where he was walking and stared at me awkwardly. It was likely that he wouldn’t have even noticed me if I hadn’t said anything to him. But I did. Which I regretted.
���Oh, um, yeah.” He went to keep on walking but he stopped himself quickly. “Are you?”
I had to keep a laugh in because the boy looked genuinely confused. Or maybe I misjudged that for concern. Still, though, it sounded a bit hopeful. This kid was really hard to read. Either way, I was pretty sure that he thought I couldn’t play hockey.
“Yeah. My dad made me join to make some friends.”
Suddenly the boy’s demeanor changed. He seemed almost excited that there was a new kid on the team. “Well, I’ll be your first friend. My name’s Adam. Adam Banks. Walk and talk.” And then he started towards two big double doors.
My eyebrows rose at the sudden confidence, taken off guard, but at least he was being friendly. I adjusted your bags and followed right behind him. “So what’s it like here.”
He answered after struggling to open one of the doors, “Well it’s not so bad. It’s super cutthroat during the regular season but in the offseason, it’s pretty relaxed.” As I made myself around the outside of the rink, he kept rambling. “Especially during summer league. The kids who only play during that league have it nice. You’ll definitely survive.”
“Um, so what happens during the regular season?” The thought of angry yelling coaches wasn’t appealing to me, but I could make it work
Adam shrugged his bag up so it wouldn’t fall from his shoulder, “Well. Usually, coach yells at us, tells us that if we don’t win we’re failures, and everyone is constantly fighting to be a starter.” There was silence. “So that’s fun.” I just nodded my head, trying to take this all in. Adam didn’t say anything until he reached the locker room doors. Then he turned to me. “Yeah, but coach is a lot less lenient during summer because it doesn’t really matter for playoffs.”
I scoffed, “yeah, but I’ll eventually have to deal with him. Right?”
Adam’s expression flattened, “Wait, you’re doing winter league too?” He looked genuinely concerned, and now I was second-guessing joining hockey. If this boy didn’t think I could survive, then how could I? Even if I was just gonna sit on the bench, the way this kid was making it out to be was not sounding like the greatest way to make friends.
“Well, yeah. Is that bad?” I needed to hear him say it. Say that I should quit, or join dance, or something. Just so I could have an excuse to tell my dad in case the first day of practice goes awry.
He spoke fast, “Oh no, no. It’s just that--”
“That I’m not good enough…”
He didn’t say anything. Harsh. I was just trying to make a joke but, I guess that’s what he was really thinking. We stood in silence for a few more seconds, and then he finally thought of something to respond with.
“No. I just feel like you’ll get hurt… and, um.”
I started to laugh. I applaud Adam for trying to make it seem like he didn’t think I was bad, but he just couldn’t do it. “Don’t sweat it, I know I’m gonna be bad.” He started to laugh with me. “Hey, at least I’ll get abs out of it.”
He and I were actually pretty good friends for the most part. He was my first friend here in Minnesota. He taught me how to skate, and in turn, I offered him some sub-par jokes. He always used to laugh at my jokes even if they were awful. He was what I considered my best friend. He definitely wasn’t a best friend, I couldn’t confide in all of my secrets, and he couldn’t do the same to me, but Adam was the only kid I was friends with. We laughed hard, we fell on the ice together. He even told his mom that practices started to end later just so he could wait with me until my dad got off work and picked me up.
Not long after we bonded, I hato the ducks. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what happened. All my dad said to me was something about how the coach wasn’t that nice, and that he didn’t want me on his team. I didn’t really care since hockey wasn’t something that I cared about too much. So I said goodbye to Adam and explained that I had to go. I didn’t say anything about the coach-not-liking-me part because then I thought he’d feel bad for me.
“Yeah, I’m supposed to switch teams too, but I think my dads’ gonna see if I can stay on the team.” He spoke almost as if he was trying to convince himself. I thought it was a great idea to tell him why he had to go to the ducks.
“They don’t want you, Adam. Maybe if you go to the ducks, you’ll get a coach who appreciates you.” I didn’t know what was wrong with what I said to him until about a year later, but by the time I finished my sentence, he was fuming.
The situation afterward was a blur, and I can’t remember what all was said. I just remember Adam touching on the fact how I’m an awful hockey player, and that he only talked to me because he felt sorry for me. Now, if my old coach had told me that I was awful at hockey, I’d be completely fine. I already knew that, and coach is just...coach. But hearing it come from Adam? It wasn’t like he was just telling me how it is, he wanted to hurt me.
It took me two weeks to stop thinking about the situation constantly, and then it started to fade away. I never even told him the real reason why I told him what I did, but now I have to work on a history project with him. How am I gonna do that if I can’t even tell him the reason for our quarrel that we had three years ago? Let alone complete a whole project?
“The syllabus will be given tomorrow, and the deadline for this project will be written under the ‘AP History’ bulletin. You may get to work.”
I slumped out of my desk and started putting away my things that were on the table attachment. During this, I tried to think of what I was going to say when I went over to him. I almost decided on either trying to make a truce or just acting like he didn’t exist.
He was slouched in his desk, pencil in hand, avoiding eye contact with me. As I sat down my stuff on an empty desk near him, his words startled me. “So, 50/50?”
I just stared at him. For some reason, my brain could not process what Adam had just said. It took a solid four seconds for me to respond. “I don’t understand.”
Adam’s eyebrows rose while his eyes rolled, “Of course you don’t.”
I scoffed, “What, you’re just gonna say some numbers and you think I’m gonna understand what you’re trying to say?”
He was leaning forward in his desk now, “Well you seemed to be doing well in calculus, so, yes.” A small, mocking smile was now gracing his face.
I took in a deep breath to try and refrain from spewing whatever profanities came to mind. “Look, can we just set aside whatever this is so we can do this project?” He crossed his arms in response. “C’mon, I can’t afford to get a bad grade.” Still no response. If his goal was to ruin my life, he sure was on the right path.
“What do I get out of it?”
The audacity.
“I’m just saying. I’ll be fine with one bad grade, so what exactly is the payoff for tolerating...you?”
So there was a shiny glimmer of hope, but it would definitely come at a cost. “Anything. Anything you want. Just please, tolerate me.”
He brought a hand to his chin, acting like he was pondering his choice, “but will it really be anything?”
“Oh my god, you are so annoying.”
“Watch it.” His voice was stern.
“Okay, okay. Sorry. But yes, anything. You name it.”
Did he even know what he wanted? Or was he just trying to play this out? Either way, I’m about to have a conniption if we don’t start working on this project soon.
We sat in silence for what felt like forever. Of course, Adam had to change his thinking position almost every second, until he decided on what he wanted. “Okay, here’s the deal. I help you get your precious little A, and you have to get me a date with Charlie.”
#the mighty ducks#the mighty ducks imagine#the mighty ducks x reader#mighty ducks#mighty ducks imagine#mighty ducks x reader#adam banks#adam banks imagine#adam banks x reader
164 notes
·
View notes
Text
Malchance
Jasonette July prompt 19: mistakes
Prompt applies to the beginning
Final part of Cocorico
My masterlist
Malchance sat on the roof overlooking the roof where Nightwing and Red Hood had been engaged in a fight for several minutes. They either knew each other's fighting style very well or they were evenly matched. She should have brought popcorn. Red Hood got a lucky hit before Nightwing could dodge and managed to lift him up by the back of the neck.
She dropped down behind them, losing sight of the lovely double view of them from behind when Red Hood turned to face her. Nightwing broke away from the hold while Red Hood was distracted. Malchance walked up to them carefully swinging her cat tail around, seeming relaxed. She was not relaxed. She had escaped one only to be nearly caught by the other so she was definitely on her guard.
"You were right about Black Mask. He is a nasty piece of work."
"See I tried to protect you from him."
"You kidnapped me."
"I told you it was temporary. You were a guest and I let you go."
"I escaped and then was immediately chased by him."
She pointed at Nightwing who had been watching them argue.
“I have so many questions. You kidnapped her?” Nightwing looked over at Red Hood when he asked that but then turned back to Malchance. “What is going on with Black Mask? That is what I was trying to find out before but you ran off.”
“I don’t remember any questions. You just started chasing me and then got out your cuffs.”
She sauntered over and winked at him, but looked back over to see Red Hood’s reaction. As she approached, she moved her hand to her staff in case she needed to make a quick get away. She couldn’t see Red Hood’s face to gauge his reaction but he had tensed. She laughed at them.
“You cuffed her? You aren’t trying to tell me we are after the same girl are you. I think she is warming up to me.” He took a step toward her.
“Maybe I am. I was even thinking about holding your hand.” She looked up at him seductively through her long cat eyelashes the suit gave her and whispered. “Cataclysm.”
She brushed her hand against a discarded box on the rooftop and the men watched it disintegrate and both of them took a step away when she turned back to them and reached out her hand.
“What are you?” Nightwing asked.
“Finally getting to some interesting questions. But I don’t answer interesting questions.”
“Why are you dealing with Black Mask?” Red Hood asked, changing the subject.
“Bonus points to you for bringing us back to the topic of the day.”
“What do I get with my bonus points? I might want to cash them in.”
“You destroyed my business. You will never get enough points to get yourself out of the hole.”
“I feel like I’m missing a whole lot of history here, and I’m definitely curious. But Black Mask. That seems to be the issue to focus on right now instead of your weird version of flirting.”
“Jealous?” Red Hood said.
Marinette ignored them and instead explained her actual purpose for being in Gotham and her former business. She omitted plenty of details that were more sensitive in nature but was able to give them an overview of the magic that was at the core of Gotham and how she thought Black Mask was utilizing it. She would not be able to stop him all on her own as she had found out in her dealings with him. He had too many people working for him that may not be loyal to his goal but still supported the goal of removing her from the picture. She was more offended that he tried to kill her instead of paying her what he owed.
“So you what, need our help to take him down?” Nightwing asked.
“Yes. If he harnesses this magic it would hurt the balance of the whole world. Gotham is surrounded by the miasma but it would extend far beyond that.”
“So you just want us to trust you? There is a system. You haven’t even been vetted.” Nightwing argued.
“I don’t need your approval. My authority spans far beyond Gotham and far beyond your plane of existence. You are inconsequential.”
She turned away from him when she was finished and Red Hood followed. She glanced back at him and he didn’t seem to be making a move so she just stayed vigilant in case that changed.
“I’ll be in touch,” she told him.
“Wait, can we talk?” Red Hood asked.
She motioned with her head and jumped away; he followed. They crossed several rooftops and made sure they were not being followed by anyone, Nightwing included, before Marinette led them to a rooftop that felt surprisingly calm for Gotham. You couldn’t hear the noise from the street or the docks and no sounds of fighting. It was like a calm in the storm. It was her favorite place to hang out when she needed to get away from everything.
“What did you want?” she asked.
“To apologize.” Red Hood said. He paused for a moment and removed his helmet. She could see his hair and facial features but his eyes and the surrounding skin were still covered by a lensed domino mask. He reached out for her hand.
“I’m listening,” she said.
“I guess it’s not enough to say I need to apologize, I actually have to follow through.”
“That is how apologies work.”
“I’m sorry. I should have handled the threats against you differently. It would have been better if I had convinced you to come with me.”
“That is your apology? You are not admitting the mistakes.”
“I mean I’m sorry for kidnapping you.” It sounded more like a question than a statement.
“It wasn’t just the kidnapping. You didn’t trust me to handle my own affairs and you ruined my business."
“I still have plenty of business for you. You gave up on it. Also, clearly something happened with Black Mask so maybe I was right.”
“This is the worst apology ever. The biggest mistake was listening to you at all. I’ve changed my mind, I don’t need help, not from you.”
“Just hold on a minute. You are twisting everything. It was my fault that anyone was after you. Someone made a joke about me flirting with you and word got out. I just wanted to take responsibility to make sure that you didn’t suffer because of it.”
“Maybe employ fewer gossips and don’t flirt with everyone you meet.”
“I employ at least one less gossip, and I don’t flirt with everyone I meet. It just happened with one person. There is a reason it was noteworthy gossip worth making such a large bounty for.
Malchance turned back to him and watched him without responding. He did appear contrite. Usually she would have a sense of someone to know whether they were a danger to her. She thought it just didn’t work with him because she never felt in danger. She may feel adrenaline or nervousness but it hadn’t tripped her internal sense of self preservation.
She stepped towards him and kept watching him. He looked down at her and she could tell he was making eye contact before he took off his mask. Her eyes searched his, looking for answers she was too afraid to ask. She reached up and pushed the shock of white hair away from his face. He closed his eyes as her fingers slipped through his hair. Her hand slid down to his cheek and she finally spoke.
“Why me?”
"Because I feel like you see me how am, and you don't recoil. There is attraction; you are gorgeous. But more than that, I feel drawn to you."
He stepped close and cupped her face. She was suddenly remembering his measurements and exactly how she felt being close to him to take them. She couldn't keep meeting his eyes. She looked away.
"I'm not sure what you see is actually there. I'm just a broken person with a mission to complete."
He lifted her chin to have their eyes meet again. She closed her eyes for the moment. His thumb brushed across her jaw before he dropped his hand and shuffled his feet. She looked back at him, but sure what she felt.
"I can get Nightwing and Batman to help take care of Black Mask."
"You and Nightwing were just fighting. Batman is one of your enemies. How does that even work?"
"We have to play by their rules but it sounds like this is a threat to us all. We can get along for a moment and fight later."
"I did not agree to anyone else's rules. This is my mission and I'm not just letting them take over."
"I should clarify. I meant his no killing rule. It's a restriction for me that I doubt changes things for you."
"It doesn't. I won't work harder to protect the life but I won't attempt to take lives."
"That should be close enough. Can we meet here in one week to discuss details?"
She nodded her assent. She was turning to go when he stepped towards her. She allowed him to turn her face slightly and put a gentle kiss on her cheek. She reached out and squeezed his forearm slightly. She tried to pass it off as a comforting gesture for him rather than to keep herself from melting off her feet.
---
It was the day of the planned assault on Black Mask’s operation. As far as Cocorico could tell they were at the location of the magical manipulation. Groups of Red Hood’s militia were prepared all around to breach but right now Cocorico was gathered with Red Hood and Nightwing to discuss the final details. It was all going as expected until Batman showed up and Cocorico suddenly wondered if this was a good idea. Red Hood and Batman were clearly far from okay with working with each other. Cocorico thought they might kill each other before the battle even started. Batman stepped towards Red Hood so Hood had removed his helmet and was stepping right back in some display of aggressive dominance.
Cocorico would not allow them to ruin her plan. She had gotten them to help a few weeks ago but she had been working toward this for almost 2 years and she wasn’t going to let them ruin it. She pulled Red Hood away and turned to scold Batman but she had pulled Red Hood too hard and when he spun to adjust they both stumbled towards the wall. Just before her head connected with the wall Red Hood slipped his hand behind it. Her back hit the wall and she looked up at him as he was suddenly pressed against her. His other hand had planted against the wall and he was pushing back, probably to continue his argument with Batman.
It was just a thought. She wasn’t planning to do anything about her errant thoughts about Red Hood. She had a mission and she had worked hard to have no distractions. But their eyes met for that brief second and she couldn’t bear to have him turn away. She grabbed the front of his jacket to turn him back toward her. She told herself she just wanted to see his eyes again but without thinking she moved toward him. He was shocked when she kissed him but he recovered quickly. He pressed her back into the wall and kissed her back. It was desperate and brief. Being interrupted by Batman clearing his throat. If looks could kill Red Hood’s would have killed Batman in that instant that Cocorico pulled away.
“For luck,” she said and reached back up to put a peck on his cheek.
“I could use some luck,” Nightwing said.
Red Hood’s eyes narrowed at him but Cocorico responded before anything else happened.
“Batman is right there,” she pointed at him. “Pucker up.”
That effectively ended any further comments about luck or kissing. Red Hood put his helmet back on and Cocorico took a moment to merge Orikko and Plagg as added protection during the battle. Then they moved in.
It was far longer than they expected before anyone noticed their presence. They had fully infiltrated the building before anyone sounded the alarm. Chatcorico thought that must be due to the training of the militia. They had found guards but they were neutralized, brutally in some cases, but they were still alive per Batman’s insistence.
She was shocked by the glow over the compound when they reached the hub. It was otherworldly. She stumbled under the weight of the magic that hit her. Red Hood turned to her in concern. No one else seemed to be affected. She could feel it though. It was not only the ancient sorcery of the city. There was miraculous magic here.
Whatever they were planning was going on now. They paused while everyone gathered at their appointed locations. Chatcorico looked around to decide how best to proceed but what she saw caused her to jump into action and charge out without alerting anyone. Black Mask was there as well as an unknown person bound at the center of all the activity. She was on her knees with her hand bound behind her and a gag in her mouth. In front of her was Black Mask walking towards her with a knife.
That was all bad for the person, which they would endeavor to protect when the assault began but she saw more. There was something in front of them that was drawing in all of the ethereal light seeping from somewhere below. Marinette didn’t know what they were trying to accomplish but she knew it would be bad. She rushed Black Mask from behind. He turned just as she reached him and knocked her over. She used her kite to block. But he didn’t have time to keep after her Red Hood was already behind him.
Chatcorico saw the rest of the group moving in to attack but she focused on removing the bindings from the woman. She undid the bindings on the hand first and then focused on the ones binding the feet together. The woman pulled the binding from her mouth and immediately transferred guardianship of the box to Monk. Marinette remembered that he was the guardian she had met in New York. The box seemed to shed the magic that was attempting to infect it and then floated up. It seemed to mask itself as it exited the building. Chatcorico assumed that it would go to the new guardian of the box, as had happened when she gained the guardianship. Then woman in front of her would have no memory of it.
The battle was long. By the end, they had claimed the building but Black Mask retreated and got away along with many of his men. Those left were behind she suspected would be arrested. Red Hood had his crew filtering out quickly. There was nothing to say they would not be arrested too when the time came. She didn’t expect that Batman’s generosity to work with the man would extend to keeping him out of jail when the time came. The partnership was very limited.
She started to get concerned that the same could be said of her own partnership with him. She was an unknown and she could tell he didn’t trust magic users. He knew enough to suggest a couple other magic users who he trusted enough with the magic seeping out. That didn't seem to include her and she wasn't sure she could handle it anyway. It had become clear that her involvement was to recover and protect the miraculous magic and the former guardian. She could leave the woman to their questioning.
She released Orikko, who had been active longer and she would have an easier time traveling as Malchance. She nodded at Batman and Nightwing, giving them no chance to stop her before she scooped up the woman and vaulted out of there. She took her to her apartment and left her sleeping in the spare room. She would have to find out about contacting the new guardian soon. The order would have some way to care for the woman who lost her memories to the cause.
Malchance would return to her shortly but she had to check. She landed on the roof and as she suspected Red Hood was waiting for her there. He looked up and watched her land and walk toward him. He stood and reached out for her. She was shocked at how right it felt to go into his arms. Maybe it had been too long since she had allowed herself to form any connections. She didn't want to bother with the 'why' of anything tonight. She just craved the connection. She knew it wasn't love and probably wouldn't last. Maybe he only liked the chase and maybe she didn't care. She pulled him down and kissed him. The only thing that mattered was it was right now.
Taglist
@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
- Watched - Pt.3
(Mammon x GN!MC)
**TW: cussing, stalking, kidnapping, religion,
Note: C/N (coworker name)
-
“Man, I’m starvin’. What’s takin’ so long anyway?” He grumbled, remembering the whole ‘first name basis’ thing with the delivery driver.
He was laid on his back across your bed scrolling through social media, impatiently waiting for you to return. His stomach started to growl.
“Maybe I should go check? But, MC said to stay here so no one could see me.” He said to himself, a slight pout on his lips.
He heard a small shuffling noise come from the living room, it sounded like a paper bag crinkling.
Ok, ya got the food, now don’t be tryin’ to chit chat MC, I know how ya are. I’m dyin’ in here!
The bedroom was a straight shot down the hall from the door, making it impossible to sneak a quick peek without fully exposing himself.
He could hear you talking back and forth with...Alex. He huffed to himself remembering your chumminess with the take out guy. Something just seemed weird to him about the whole thing.
Somethin’ is fishy about him always havin’ MC’s route or whatever. Does nobody else deliver for that place? I bet he’s got a crush on MC or somethin’.
“I’ll kick his ass.” He said out loud, his own thoughts making him sour.
He listened again, trying to hear what was being said. He couldn’t hear any actual words, but he could hear Alex’s voice. Barely, though.
Wait a minute.. Is he whisperin’? What’s he gotta say to MC that requires whisperin’?! I gotta get outta here.
Mammon was getting himself worked up, assuming this delivery guy was confessing his love to you. He’d nearly convinced himself to march out there and confront the creep. To hell with staying hidden!
Before he could blow his cover, he heard something hit the front door followed by more shuffling movement. He calmed down a bit, thinking the noises he heard were of you getting the food inside and trying to kick the door shut.
He impatiently waited for you to call out, telling him the coast was clear and that he could finally come eat. But, you didn’t.
After a couple minutes passed with no new noise, he grew slightly anxious.
He stood up and started pacing beside the bed, feeling antsy.
C’mon, MC. What’re ya doin’? I’m witherin’ away! Before long I’m gonna shrink up and turn into a Little D or somethin’..
Suddenly, he heard voices again. Well, just the delivery guy’s voice, still a hushed tone. He groaned to himself.
“If he don’t hurry up and go away, I’m gonna eat him instead.” He grumbled quietly to himself.
Something didn’t feel right though. Why was Alex’s voice the only one he heard? It had been at least five minutes since he heard you say something. It’s not like he just missed what you said because you were too quiet for him to hear, or you just chose not to contribute to the guy’s conversation.
You always talk, to basically anyone you come in contact with, never really knowing a stranger. He’s pretty sure you haven’t gone five minutes without talking since he met you. That’s why it seemed so weird to him.
That alone wasn’t really enough to expose himself though, was it?
To say you’ve been through a lot lately is an understatement. You’re sleep deprived and your nerves are shot. With everything that’s been going on, it would be more weird if you didn’t act a little different. He didn’t blame you for not being your usual self.
He still couldn’t shake this feeling though.
A sudden, loud noise outside got his attention.
Was that a car door?
He moved quickly, putting his back against the wall, scooting over to the doorway.
“MC? Is he gone?” He whispered.
No answer.
Screw it.
Very slowly, he peeked his head around the corner, careful not to be seen.
“MC?” He whispered again, louder this time.
Still nothing.
Somethin’ is definitely wrong..
He fully emerged in the doorway, eyes darting around, taking in his surroundings. As he quickly made his way up the hall, he noticed the door standing wide open. He could see that an older model car was parked in front of the house and you were no where in sight.
Hand still on the door knob, he turned around to call out into the house, “MC, where ya at? Ya know ya left the door-”
Before he could finish, the car outside suddenly accelerated, kicking up dirt and rocks as they sped off.
What the..?
“Guess he didn’t like his tip..?” He whispered to himself.
He shut the door and turned around slowly, only taking a couple steps before he came to a stop. He couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling he had.
“Oi, MC! D-don’t ya know you’re supposed to answer when THE Great Mammon calls for ya?” He waited, but the house was still. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears.
He walked further into the house, quickly looking around the kitchen before heading back down the hall.
Why ain’t they answerin’.. c-could it..? Nah..
“This ain’t funny ya know..” He called through the house, hoping that you’d somehow slipped past him.
Again, he was met with bone chilling silence.
Slowly, he started piecing all the little weird things that didn’t make sense together like a puzzle. The silent house and wide open door, abandoned food, the car speeding away..
The same delivery guy somehow always having this route...
His heart sank.
No, no, no, no!
He ran from room to room in a panic, desperately calling out to you, begging you to answer him.
This ain’t happenin’.. They gotta be hidin’ or something. Yeah, that’s it!
“MC! Where are ya? Talk to me, please!” He screamed, voice breaking around the hard lump forming in his throat, tears beginning to prick at his eyes.
No, it can’t be.. It can’t be..
With trembling hands, he dug his phone from his pocket, quickly dialing your number.
“C’mon, pick up. Please, please pick up.” He pleaded as he paced the floor.
His stomach dropped when he heard it ringing within the house, quickly following the sound until he found it on the coffee table where you had left it earlier. He stood there unmoving, staring at his picture and contact name with hearts on the screen, tears streaking down his face.
The weight of it all came crashing down like a tsunami, forcing him to his knees. With his face in his hands, he sobbed uncontrollably.
I shoulda listened to my gut when I thought somethin’ was wrong! Why did I wait so long to look for ‘em?! He took MC, he took MC! Dammit!
How did he let this happen? He was right here, right here, and he didn’t sense the danger. He couldn't protect you again, letting you fall right into the hands of the psycho creep who had been relentlessly harassing you, who was planning to do who knows what.
He had to do something. Anything.
Get the hell up! Ya gotta go find MC NOW! There’s no tellin’ what this creep is gonna try.
He stood up and wiped his face, trying to compose himself as he switched into demon form.
“I can still catch ‘em!” He made a beeline for the door, stopping abruptly as he reached the thresh hold.
“Wait, it’s the middle of the day and this ain’t the Devildom. A demon flyin’ around on a man hunt would be real bad.” He thought aloud.
People would most likely panic and if history proves anything, nothing good ever comes from humans when they panic.
He had to try and think rationally, as hard as it was. He wanted to rush in and save you as quick as he could, but going in blind without a decent plan could get you hurt...or possibly worse.
He switched out of demon form and moved back into the living room, trying to come up with an idea.
Your phone was here so he couldn’t have you tracked by GPS and he didn’t remember much about the car except that it was older. He didn’t even know what the guy looked like since he’d had to hide. All he knew about him was his first name and that he worked at a restaurant.
“The take out place would for sure have everything about him on file!” He quickly punched in the name of the place into his phone’s search engine, then suddenly paused.
“Wait a minute..I can’t just waltz in there and ask for someone’s personal info. They’d call the cops or somethin’. Damn!”
He was beginning to feel hysterical. He didn’t have much to go on and every idea he came up with was crap. A few ‘ding’ sounds from the coffee table tore him from his thoughts. It was your phone.
Someone named C/N had sent you a couple texts about work and judging by the text log, you talked to them often.
“Man, I hope this C/N knows somethin’ cause I’ve got nothin’ else to go on..”
Luckily, he remembered the name of the coffee shop, having heard you talk about work often. A quick internet search and he had the directions. He was out the door like a shot.
With his newfound breadcrumb, he was one step closer to finding you.
-
A bell chimed above the door when he entered the shop, alerting the worker behind the counter of his presence.
“Hi, how can I help you?” They greeted him as he walked up to the counter.
“Hey, is there a C/N here by any chance?”
“Oh, uh, yeah just a sec.” They went through a doorway behind the counter, returning moments later with another person in tow.
“Hello..? I’m sorry, do I know you?” They asked, approaching Mammon, visibly confused.
“No, but you know MC, right?” He asked, uninterested in beating around the bush.
“I’m not sure I can answer that.” They said cautiously, visibly tense.
They do know somethin’.
“Here, look.” He said, pulling up the gallery on his phone, showing them multiple pictures of you and MC together.
“Oh, so you’re the boyfriend. MC has told me about you. Uh, anyway, is there something I can help you with? I need to get back to work..”
“Yeah, has MC ever mentioned anythin’ about a guy named Alex before?” He asked.
Please, please, please
“Alex..Alex..” They repeated, tapping a finger on their chin as they thought it over. “They did, actually. We went to the movies about two months ago, and ran into a guy they knew. It was their usual deliver guy I think? Said his name was Alex. He gave me the creeps.” They explained.
“Why is that?”
Yes! We’re gettin’ somewhere.
“He just seemed..I don’t know, off? And when I met him, I actually remembered seeing him a few days earlier on my way to work. There was another A.T.A. protest and I saw him in the group demonstrators. He denied being there when I brought it up, saying it had to be his doppelganger or something, but I know it was him. When we ran into him at the movies he said he had just got off work, and he was wearing the exact same shirt and hat as the day of the protest.” They informed him.
“Wait, A.T.A.? What’s that?” He asked curiously.
“Anti-Treaty Association. They’re exactly what the name suggests. Everyone involved in the exchange program is public knowledge. Names, pictures, updates on how the program was going, etc. All easily found on any search engine. If he is part of the A.T.A., why would he be friendly with MC? There’s no way he didn’t know who they were.” They said.
This Alex guy is definitely the stalker. I bet if I dig into this A.T.A. I can find him..
“Alright. Thanks for your help.” He said as he turned to leave, C/N took a few steps after him.
“Hey, uh, is MC okay? I know they haven’t been themselves lately, but uh, you coming here and asking all these questions kinda scares me..” They admitted, fear for their friend written on their face.
“MC is uh, goin’ through some stuff. I’m gonna put an end to it though.” His voice was rough, angry. His face however, was full of desperation and sadness.
Mammon thanked C/N again for their information and left the coffee shop on a new mission. He uncovered another piece of the puzzle, new information that could lead him to you.
No one knew exactly what this guy was capable of, but he had the most important piece of Mammon's existence with him. There wasn’t anything he wasn’t willing to do, in any realm, to bring you back safely. He would breach the Celestial Gates without thinking twice if it would bring you back to him.
He was going to show them exactly why he's the second strongest of the seven rulers of the underworld.
I’m comin’ MC. I will find ya, I promise.
-
“Get out.”
The scorching heat inside the trunk made you nauseous, and severely thirsty. You felt weak and disoriented, unable to move much. You weren’t sure how long you had been stuck in there before you finally felt the car come to a stop. The lid opened, blazing sunshine poured inside the dark space, making your eyes water and squint reflexively.
“I said, get out!” He screamed.
He wrapped his hand around your wrist hard and yanked you from the trunk, letting you drop to the ground. You were much to weak to try and brace yourself so you fell pretty hard, getting small scrapes and dirt on your elbows and forearms.
You tried to open your eyes to try and get an idea of where he had taken you, but before they could adjust to the blinding sunlight, he tied something around your eyes.
“Can’t have you trying to escape.” He said to himself, as he finished tying up your hands. The restraints were very tight, already starting to hurt your wrists.
“I’m not going to.” You said weakly, your words making him laugh.
“Well, at least your a smart demon slut. Somewhat, anyway.”
Honestly, you weren’t planning to escape. If the opportunity presented itself, you would make a run for it, but you weren’t actively looking for an escape route. However, you had no intention of giving this creep what he wanted, or giving up without one hell of a fight.
Pulling you by the restraint around your wrists, he began to drag you across the ground. He let go of you a minute or so later. He didn’t drag you very far, ending up in some kind of building judging by the change in temperature and the rough feeling of concrete beneath you. It felt a little cooler in here as if you were out of direct sunlight, but the air was still fairly hot and sticky.
You did your best to pay attention to the things around you. The sounds, smells, what little you could feel. Outside you could hear cows in the distance and some kind of humming noise. It was definitely hot, but more like that humid feeling before it storms. You could also smell it too, the incoming rain. That warm earthy smell.
You could hear Alex nearby messing with something metal, there was also the sound of running water somewhere close.
I can’t believe Alex was actually the stalker this entire time... Explains how pictures taken of me from outside my house though.. I wonder what he plans to do..
You promptly chased away those thoughts in order to keep yourself calm, replacing them with thoughts of him, the time you’d spent together along with all the memories that came with it.
How soft and fluffy his hair felt when ran your fingers through it. The way he smelled; not the Devilish No.5, although you did love it, it’s smell closely related to the famous human world version, but his smell. Crisp and clean like fresh laundry or new clothes, slightly smoky like leather because of his favorite jacket and small undertones of warm cinnamon and vanilla.
The always groaned about your selection for movie night but was the first one to get really into it. Having a concert while cooking when you had kitchen duty together, getting in trouble for talking and laughing in class and later being scolded by Lucifer for it. How he always used to complain how bad humans smell, only to find out he started buying your brand of body wash for himself and would also try to casually smell his hoodie after you’d worn it.
The thought of never seeing him again, never experiencing anymore memories like these or the chance to make new ones, kept haunting you. A hard lump was forming in your throat, tears beginning to prick your eyes.
“Aw, what’s the matter darlin’? The abomination you chose as a lover isn’t rushing in to save you like Prince Charming? Imagine that.” He spat.
You ignored his sarcastic comments, wanting answers of you own, “Why are you doing this?” You could hear him walking toward you, his footsteps getting louder as he approached. The sound stopped abruptly, then he crouched down next to your head.
“I told you, you need to be cleansed.” His tone was very matter-of-fact.
He grabbed your wrist restraint again and drug you another ten feet or so. Easily picking you up and hoisting you into the air until the rope around your wrists caught on something. He let go, your full weight coming down on your restraint. You were suspended in the air, feet barely skimming the floor.
He checked your ropes to make sure it was still secure with the added weight and gravity, then he removed your blindfold. The sudden change causing you to blink several times.
Your previous assumptions had been right, you appeared to be in a warehouse that had been abandoned for quite some time. Most of the windows were broken, big vines and other foliage creeping into the building. The rusted remnants of machinery scattered around the large, open room. You looked above you to see that you were hanging from a large hook that was suspended by thick chain from a metal beam up above. Far to your left you could see what looked like a large pool or even one of those big basins you usually use to water cattle, with a hose draped over the side. There’s the source of the running water you heard.
Wait...a stock tank with water, ’cleansed’...is he going to..baptize me?
“Cleansed? That’s been mentioned quite a bit in the dozens of letters I’ve been getting. Well, you would know, huh? Since you’re the one behind it all. What I don’t understand is why?”
It came off as more sarcastic than you intended, but you didn’t really care. You had been terrified for weeks about the stalker. What would they do when they finally got to you? You haven’t truly felt alone in over a month, as if someone was always hiding in the shadows watching, waiting. Your anxiety has been through the roof and you’re in a nearly constant state of paranoia and fear.
But, now that he was in front of you, you didn’t feel scared. You wanted answers.
“Because they don’t belong with our kind. Uniting our realms is blasphemy and will throw the human world into chaos.”
‘Don’t belong with our kind’..? Whoa, what the hell..
“Blasphemy? But, the Celestial Realm is on board with it. The angels in the exchange progr-” He cut you off before you could finish, his sudden booming voice echoed through the spacious warehouse, startling you.
He stood with his back to you, facing a long metal table that looked as if it used to be a conveyor or some other piece that once belonged to one of the old machines inside the long forgotten building.
“The exchange program was a joke! Those devils just needed a good cover to get their claws on our realm so they could take it over! Using their dirty tricks and magic to bring corruption and pollute us with sin.” He stared you down like a mad man while he yelled.
This was so bizarre, he sounded insane. Like, one of those people that wore tin foil hats. This version of Alex, the real one, was scary. You would’ve never guessed in a million years that this guy was the same one that you talked about the weather and current events with a few times a week.
“None of that is even remotely true! They just want to bring peace among the realms, to prove that they are not what all the harmful, hateful rhetoric claims they are. So we can all just co-exist! That was the entire point of the exchange program! To learn about the Devildom; it’s people and culture.” You fought back.
His face twisted up in disgust, visibly becoming more and more agitated every time you spoke. He stalked closer, stopping maybe six feet in front of you, staring at you intently.
“That kind of thinking is exactly why you need to be cleansed. You’re a human, or has being a demon whore and becoming the embodiment of sin made you forget that? You are nothing but a weak, powerless human to them. A pawn in their bigger plan, collateral damage if things went wrong.”
You never cared what assumptions people made or the rumors they started regarding your stay in the Devildom. However, when the very demons you loved and cared about became the subject of people’s whispering, you were willing to fight with no intentions of backing down.
You, out of everyone, who had to live in the House of Lamentation for a year, escaped death from a couple of the brothers, helped them mend familial bonds, and held pacts with all of them, should know better than anyone, exactly who they are.
“You don’t know anything about them!” You yelled lurching forward as you filled with anger, lightly swinging back and forth where you were suspended, the thick chains above you clanking, “The things they’ve been through, they things they’ve seen. The sacrifices they had to make..” You heart ached for them. What happened during the Great Celestial War, their fall.. They’ve been through a great deal and they, along with the rest of the Devildom, are undeserving of such prejudiced hatred.
“Being demons doesn’t automatically mean they are bad people, just like being human doesn’t make you good.” You stared him down, lacing venom in your words. He squinted his eyes at you, unhappy with your implications. “That fact was thoroughly proven during my time there. Some of kindest people I have ever met, as well as the people I love and cherish the most, are demons.”
You would forever stand behind the program, your now second home, and all the friends and loved ones you made along the way. No matter what this psycho could come up with, you would not be swayed. You knew them for who they are, all Alex knew was hatred.
He scoffed at your words, walking toward you as he shook his head in disgust, eyes boring into yours. He stopped just inches in front of your face. You held onto your resolve, staring back at him intently, not letting him see that you were completely terrified. It’s what he wanted; to feel superior and pass judgement on those he deemed unworthy.
You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction though; to feed his ego, his delusions. You refused to bow to fear, instead giving it all you had to make sure that if this was how it would end for you, you would fight against his prejudice and hatred until your final moments.
“We will start with the normal cleansing.” He backed away from you, confirming your suspicions as he gestured to the stock tank. “Although I think your soul might be too far gone for it to be completely effective.” He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.
“This may call for a more extensive purification.”
PART FOUR COMING SOON!
#obey me!#obey me fanfic#obey me mammon#mammon x mc#trigger warning#potentially triggering#obey me shall we date#obey me angst
95 notes
·
View notes
Text
All The Hurt - Chapter 2
Pairing: Peter Parker x fem!reader
Warnings: ANGST, Peter was an ass, reader is a hurt and petty bitch, fluff to make up for the angst, curse words, lots of “coincidences”
Word Count: 4.1k
A/n: The amount of love I've gotten is absolutely incredible. Thank you guys for the support! Enjoy :3
-----------------------------------------
Flash had suggested driving both him and yourself to Liz’s house, and you agreed, simply because car rides with him were more fun. You got there earlier than anyone else, giving Flash time to set up his DJ equipment and speakers while you helped Liz and Betty set up the lights, food, and drinks.
Not an hour later and the house was full of people that you knew and didn’t know, but welcomed anyway. Everybody walking around was having a good time, drinking soda out of a red solo cup and dancing to Flash’s party music. You would be lying if you told yourself your eyes weren’t examining the dance floor for a particular bed of curls.
In your mind, you knew there was no way Peter knew Spider-Man. You saw it in the way he told everyone he did today at the gym. His left hand was wildly shaking — a clear telltale of nerves you’d figured out long ago.
Something else was bothering you, though, even if you didn’t want to admit it.
That bruise. You knew for a fact Peter wasn’t a fighter, mainly when it came to bullies - words or actions. He never retaliated, which is why people considered him an easy target. You wouldn’t put it past him to allow himself to get beaten up, but you would have known if that’d happened. Flash was definitely his number one bully, but he wouldn’t dare lay a finger on Peter, and neither would any of his friends, especially since they all knew your history with Peter.
They were all bark and no bite, which meant that there was another explanation for it, but for the love of God, you couldn’t figure out what it was.
And speak of the devil.
You smirked as you caught sight of him, worried thoughts vanishing as you weaved your way through the crowd to Flash, whispering in his ear about your discovery. He flashed you a wicked smile, turned down the music, and grabbed the mic.
“Penis Parker! What’s up?” Flash yelled into the mic, causing Peter to freeze and turn to look at Flash, who was pointing right at him.
“Hey, Y/n,” Flash pretended to search the crowd then turned to you, “Where do you think his pal Spider-Man is?” He placed the mic below your lips and waited for your preplanned answer.
“Hm, let me a guess.” You sweetly said, tapping your chin like you were thinking, “in Canada with his imaginary girlfriend?” You raised your eyebrows, eyes boring into Peter’s with fire burning behind your pupils, your brain ignoring your heart that was begging you to stop upsetting him as you caught the flash of hurt that crossed his features.
The crowd laughed and “ooh” ed as Flash played a “burn” sound effect, “That’s not Spider-Man,” He jutted his chin towards Ned, “that’s just Ned in a red shirt.”
You watched him walk away from the giggling crowd, fuming, and you bumped your fist with Flash's in victory. He turned up the music, and you made your way to the dance floor with your friends, as you swayed your hips to the loud tune. Your group sang loudly to the songs, and though it was deafening and off-tune, you never felt freer than when you screamed the lyrics with them.
At some point, your voice started sounding raspy, and your throat was begging you for some sort of liquid to heal the ache. You excused yourself from the group, walked to the kitchen and grabbed a solo cup, filling it with cool water and chugging it down.
But, of fucking course, someone had to ruin your night and your favorite white dress by bumping into you and spilling coke on your outfit. That someone was a girl with piercing blue eyes and brown hair — someone you didn't recognize. It was clear she didn’t go to Midtown considering she squeaked an apology and ran to her friends, who glanced back at you and immediately dashed out of the house.
Great.
You would ask Liz for another dress, but you weren’t exactly tight with her. You’d also ask your friends to take you home to change, but as you looked at them jumping around and bobbing their heads to the music, you figured they were having too much fun, and you didn’t want to ruin it.
You would normally call your driver, but you hadn’t had the chance to set up your new phone just yet.
Sighing, you grabbed your denim jacket you hid below the counter earlier, put it on, and began your journey home on foot. Your house was located about thirty minutes away from Liz’s, which wasn’t really a big deal for you.
About fifteen minutes of strolling in silence and kicking any rock that caught your eye, you passed by a playground that looked familiar. It was the very same playground you and Peter would play in when you were children. You’d take turns pushing each other on the swing, and when you were old enough to do it yourself, you would both compete to see who’d go higher and who could jump off the swing the farthest. It always resulted in an injury, but you two always laughed it off, especially when Jane would run over worriedly with a first-aid kit.
As you went into your early teenage years, you’d meet at the playground alone and climb to the top of the dome climber with different (and disgusting) flavored milkshakes, exchanging it with each other every now and again, and watch the river flow peacefully.
The same river in which Iron-Man is flying out of with Spider-Man in his arms.
Wait, what?
You snapped out of your reverie and did a double take before you quickly dove into one of the many bushes, the quick rate of your heartbeat becoming a distraction from the fresh cut on your exposed neck from the sharp branches.
You could see everything that was happening in front of you, but not necessarily hear everything. Your wide eyes curiously peeked over the bushes, watching as Iron-Man placed Spider-Man on the dome. And maybe it was your hearing, but you swore you knew the high pitched voice that was exaggeratedly saying something.
You saw Spider-Man tug his mask off and wring it out, which made the back of his head incredibly visible. Brown hair. Or maybe black. It was too dark to see the difference. You debated moving a little closer to hear the conversation.
Deep down, you knew it wasn’t right. Spider-Man was entitled to protect his identity. But you could keep a secret. Besides, maybe this could be the moment you’d thank him for saving you. You doubted he’d remember what he did, but you’d never forget.
So, you crept a little closer to make out the words, despite your gut telling you you shouldn’t.
“What were you thinking?” Iron-Man asked in a way that made you believe Spider-Man was in trouble.
“The guy with the wings is obviously the source of the weapons, I gotta take him down!”
Wait. That sounds like-
“Take him down now, huh? Steady, Crockett, there are people who handle this sort of thing.” Iron-Man said, waving his arm around.
“The Avengers?”
“No, no, no, just a little below their…pay grade.”
“Anyway, Mr. Stark, you didn’t have to come all the way out here, I-I had that. I was fine.”
But that was all you could hear. Because as the conversation went on, the gears in your head begun turning, the dots seemed to connect faster than you could comprehend.
The strange bruise on his jaw after it was shown on the news that a certain superhero fought robbers at the bank across Delmar’s. Him running out of school once it was over. The fact that he left school for two weeks and mysteriously came back. Him ‘allegedly’ saying your name when he saved you. All the times he ditched you in the past were the same times Spider-Man was on the news for a heroic saving. You remembered because you’d send the news to Peter. The “Stark Internship” excuse wasn’t real.
But this was.
Peter Parker is Spider-Man.
Peter Parker saved your life.
The amount of information was loud. So, so, loud. You couldn’t hear the bickering that went on. A rush of emotions went through you. The first was rage. Is this it? Is this is his reason for letting you go? He couldn’t have just been honest and told you? You bet he told Ned. But he couldn’t tell you, could he?
But just as quickly as it came, your anger left you, instead being replaced with worry. You hated to admit it, but you were worried about him. How could he go out there every day and put his life on the line like that? What about his wounds and injuries? Did he suffer through those alone? Or did May help him heal?
Does May even know? Does anybody know?
Lastly, panic, and that was the strongest of them all. Holy shit, you thought, I just found out that my ex best friend and former crush is a superhero. He shoots webs out of his hands or something and sticks to walls and saves strangers and fights criminals and-
And Iron-Man is flying away.
And Spider-Man is walking in your direction.
I need to go.
As soon as you turned around, still crouched but ready to fucking bolt, you accidentally stepped on something hard, and you had to bite your tongue to keep your hissing inside. Once the pain slightly subsided, you looked downwards and moved your head closer to the object. A loud purring sound was emitting from it, and if there was anything in this world that screamed danger, it was this.
You were careful to pick it up and examine it. In the middle of this..machine was a bright purple stone and it was fucking glowing. You looked around you and caught Spider-Man muttering something to himself right before an obnoxious ringing made its way into your ears, prompting you to cringe and put your hands over them as you crouched.
It’s the same annoying fucking ringtone as Peter’s.
You waited for him to move a little farther, and when he did, you peeked from behind the bush. He had just closed the phone and continued his walk. You didn’t know if this thing was a bomb or something explosive, so throwing it in his direction was already ruled out. Besides, he was already beyond throw distance. You knew the safest way to get it to him.
You knew what to do. You hated that you did, but you had to do it.
Maybe hearing him talk to you would confirm or deny your hypothesis. Anybody could have brown hair, a high-pitched voice and the same ringtone as your ex-best friend and be a superhero that saved you two weeks ago.
You took a deep breath to calm your hammering heart from ripping through your ribcage and escaping. “I hate my life,” you mumbled as you rose and followed him with your heart still beating out of your chest, almost sure it was louder than your barely audible footsteps.
Don’t trip, don’t trip.
When you got close to him, close enough to tap him on the shoulder, he quickly turned around and got into a fighting position with his fists ready to punch. You were so shocked that you dropped the object and backed away with your hands up, “Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy. ”
Upon seeing a citizen (that he knew too well) he dropped his stance, “S-uh..sorry. I-I thought you..uh..” He cleared his throat, “Sorry, ma’am. How can I help you?” He said, very clearly thickening his voice and awkwardly placing his hands on his hips.
But you knew that sound anywhere.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. It is him.
You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you felt it clogging your ability to breathe.
“Uh, hi. I’m Y/n.” You mentally smacked yourself. He already knows you, dumbass.
Should you tell him he knows you, though? Should you tell him you know him? No, what? You vehemently shook your head.
“A-anyway I, um, found this-” You picked up the object and turned it around in your hands, “-on my way home and I think it’ll help you? I don’t know, it’s definitely not man-made, I suppose. I’m not exactly an expert but I thought you’d be and you just so happened to be in my neighborhood and I am, too, and this thing is glowing and-”
His spider..eye..thingies were as wide as saucers, and it was only now that you noticed you were rambling. Your cheeks flushed, and you immediately cursed at your body for betraying you.
This is worse than tripping.
“Sorry,” you looked down at your shoes, "I babble when I’m-“ Nope. Not letting him know you’re nervous. Not that he doesn’t already know. You found yourself regretting telling him all your triggers and quirks in the past, because right now, you couldn’t tell whether he could figure you out or not.
He probably could, though.
This night just kept getting worse. Pack it up already.
You cleared your throat and straightened your shoulders in the most confident way you could, “Here,” you outstretched your arm to him, waiting for him to grab the foreign object, but all he did was stare, and stare, and stare. You didn't really know where to look, and you didn't know if he was gazing at you or not, but before you could say anything, he snapped out of whatever he was in and took a hold of the object. You tried not to think about his masked fingers that grazed yours.
“Thanks, uh, Y/n.” He said, not as intrigued by the object as you thought he’d be. Instead, he seemed to be looking at you. Or behind you. You still couldn't tell. You were too caught up in the way he said your name. It felt strangely familiar, and comforted you for a moment. It made you feel safe and wanted. Loved.
Before the memories reminded you of what he’d done.
“Sure,” you nodded, slowly backing away, “um, see you...around.”
“Yeah.”
As you turned on your heel to continue your trip home, he pipped up, “Oh, um, would- do you want me to walk you home? It’s really dark out here.”
You entertained the thought in your head for a second. "What could possibly happen if he walked you home, besides guaranteeing you safety?” Your heart spoke.
"Oh, I don’t know, you could accidentally blurt out that you know him, and then things will get even more awkward than they already are.” Your brain fought back, stubborn as ever.
Yeah, you’re definitely just going to pass up his offer.
“I’m, uh, I’m good. Need a little time to myself.” You nervously chuckled, wrapping your arms around yourself, “Thanks, though, I appreciate it.”
“Yeah.” He repeated, shifting his weight from one foot to another as he watched you walk away from him.
Like he’d done to you.
The rest of the fifteen minutes passed by faster than you anticipated, but maybe it was because you were too preoccupied considering you just confirmed your ex-best friend was a fucking superhero with fucking superpowers. As the confirmation made its way into your brain, you noticed that the signs were right beneath your nose, but you weren’t observant enough to figure it out. They started before he left you.
How did it start to begin with? Has he always had these powers?
Wait, no. Because Spider-Man wasn’t always around. And even if he really did have them for a long time, why leave you now? It must’ve been recent, you concluded.
But how? How does one go from an ordinary, lanky teenager to a robust superhero who can stop a speeding bus with his bare hands?
As one question was answered, another one took its place. The list just kept going and going, without a clear sign of it stopping.
In all honesty, you thought the videos that popped up on your YouTube recommended page of a web-slinging human were staged. In your defense, he seemed quite small to be a hero, and it wouldn’t be the first time some kid tried to fool the world with “a new superhero". You remember sending it to Peter and asking him if he thought it was real.
He never answered.
You hadn’t realized you were standing on your porch, staring at the overly large mahogany door in front of you. You sighed and took out your keys, placing them in the lock and twisting it.
You were lucky today was the beginning of the weekend. You wouldn’t be able to face him after seeing what you just saw. You didn’t know how to feel. You didn’t know what to do. Should you let him know that you know?
Should you let anyone know that you know?
That was the worst part about this whole thing. You had no one to turn to. No one to talk to about this, and there definitely wouldn’t be a wikiHow page on how to deal with something like this.
So, you ruled it out. One of the choices was obviously keeping the secret to yourself and not telling Peter you knew his identity. It would keep things from getting too awkward to handle and would keep him safe.
The other choice, the really horrible one, was to let everyone know. A part of you was still mad at what he’d done. You mean, he didn’t even try to apologize as he should’ve. That evil part of you, the hurt part, wanted revenge — wanted you to ruin Peter like he did you.
You knew people would believe you if you told them. You knew they’d find their ways to figure out if it’s true or not. But for some reason, you were hesitant. Yes, Peter ruined your life. Yes, Peter broke you in ways you believed were beyond mendable.
But Peter was also the boy who gave you his last Iron-Man bandaid when you scraped your elbow the first time you met. He’s the boy who pushed your bully and got punched in the face for it when you were ten. He’s the boy who saved your life the other day - the boy who saves dozens of strangers every week.
It was clear which option was better.
Keeping his secret didn’t mean you forgave him, though.
After everything, you didn’t know if you allowed yourself to forgive him. Part of you wanted you to, pleaded you to for the sake of moving on, but the more stubborn part of you remembered the pain you went through; the nights you spent crying yourself to sleep, the newfound insecurities of not being enough for anybody, the fear that others will leave you behind like he did.
Hell, you had a locked note in your notes app that contained a long speech about how you felt — about how he made you feel. The one you were to send him — but ended up deleting.
You groaned and rubbed your head, feeling an oncoming headache from the questions. You stayed in your house that weekend, trapped with a racing mind and no answers to slow it down.
------------------------------------------------------
You started noticing Peter act differently towards you when your freshman year of high school was close to ending. It started off with him rescheduling long-awaited plans and then showing up late, but you didn’t mind. He had told you he scored an internship at Stark Industries, and you swore you’d never felt prouder in your entire life.
He informed you that he could be called in at any given moment, which was his reason for leaving in the middle of your hangouts. You understood, and so, you encouraged him to do so.
But then, as time went by, you noticed a change. Instead of postponing the plans, he’d cancel them all together and wouldn’t make up for them. And sometimes, in the rare occasion in which he did postpone them, he’d stand you up, keeping you awake until you were on the brink of sleep.
He apologized multiple times for doing so, blaming it on the time the internship took for him, and you let it go, even when it became a pattern to leave you stranded.
You were okay with it.
Until it became too much.
During lunch, you could never find him, which ended up with you eating alone. During the only class you shared with him, he’d zone out while you were talking and completely ignore you. You’d normally come out of your last period ready to see him standing by your locker to begin your journey home, but he stopped being there, and you would walk home alone.
Texts and calls went unnoticed, and you felt the barrier he had placed between the two of you grow higher and higher as the time passed by.
What bothered you is that it was just with you. He acted completely normal around Ned. You often saw them chatting and laughing while you watched from afar, heart breaking into two as you wondered where you went wrong. You inspected every text message you sent and every conversation you had, often staying up late re-reading it until you reached the top. You just didn’t understand what happened.
One day, you approached him after school, running after him as he bolted through the school’s gates into the outside.
“Hey!” You called as you caught up to him and grabbed his arm, which flexed beneath your grip. You sighed and slightly loosened your grasp, “Can, um, can we talk?”
Peter visibly gulped, hesitantly nodding as his eyes bounced around your figure, never looking at you.
“Peter.” You ran a hand through your hair, carefully choosing your next words as to approach this topic cautiously, “What’s going on with you? You..you’ve been acting weird and distant. D-did do something?”
“I’m not acting weird,” Peter said, almost offendedly, quick to defend himself.
“Peter we haven’t hung out in weeks because you’ve been canceling them.” You retaliated.
“I told you, I-it’s the internship.”
You frowned, heart clenching at the tiredness that seeped into his voice, “I know.” You gave him a small smile, hoping for one in return, “I’m your best friend. I’m always here for you, you know.”
“I-“ He sharply inhaled, scratching the back of his head with his shaking left hand. “I don’t want you to be.”
Your smile instantly dropped, feeling a painful nudge in your stomach, “What?”
“I don’t..this isn’t working, Y/n. We can’t be friends anymore. I’m done.” He said. And so easily, too.
I’m done, he’d said.
Your heart stopped for a moment, taken aback by his bluntness and the harshness that came with his words, “What? Why? N-no.” You denied, "You’re just gonna leave? You can’t do that, I..What did I do?”
“Nothing. It’s just..it’s just better this way.” Peter visibly gulped, looking around the streets like he wasn’t standing there, breaking your fragile heart into pieces while you were trying your hardest to not fall apart right in front of him.
Dignity was still a thing. But so was your friendship.
“I can’t fix this if you won’t let me, Pete.” You pleaded, hoping he’d admit that something was wrong - that it wasn’t you that he was pushing away, that there was a reason for him doing so. You could fix this. You could.
“There’s nothing to fix. I don’t want to be friends, that’s it.” He shrugged, shuffling backward, getting ready to make a run from it.
“No,” you stopped him, grabbing his hand softly, despite the tears that already ran down your face, “There has to be a reason! Y-you can’t just leave like that! Give me a reason! WHAT DID I DO?!”
When he didn’t respond, you gave his loose hand a squeeze and wiped your tears with your sleeve, already feeling stupid for the amount of vulnerability you were displaying, especially when you weren’t getting any sort of reaction out of him besides coldness.
“Peter. Peter, please, just l-let me fix this.” You said, voice cracking, "You’re all I have left. Please don’t do this.”
You were begging. You knew you were, but you couldn’t let him leave without putting up a fight. You were a step away from begging on your knees, but you didn’t. You were able to stop yourself from doing so, but you still believed you could get through whatever this is - you were so sure of it.
But you never did.
And you swore he had ripped your heart from your chest, stepped on it, and nonchalantly walked away, leaving you to deal with the pain of the heartbreak on the sidewalk.
Previous Chapter
Next Chapter
All The Hurt Masterlist
Main Masterlist
#peter parker#peter parker x reader#peter parker fluff#peter parker angst#peter parker x y/n#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland fanfic#tom holland x reader#tom holland angst#spiderman#spiderman x reader#marvel
101 notes
·
View notes
Note
hm would you write a fic about annie coming out to jeff? i love their friendship and brother/sister relationship :)
thank you so much for this request! i honestly got a bit emotional writing this. annie coming out to jeff is something that can honestly be so personal...
there's some focus on annie coming out to other members of the study group, but it does mainly focus on her and jeff. i hope that's okay :)
Annie had decided to come out to her friends in the same way she tended to do most things: efficiently and beginning by making a list.
Well, she supposed the most efficient way would be to come out to all of them at the same time, but this way would be more effective in the long run. She knew they’d all have very different reactions, different questions to ask, different levels of surprise, so if they all found out at once, most likely no one’s questions would get answered (not just the ones she would politely ignore), the group would start talking over each other, someone would yell at Pierce and it would almost be forgotten what the point of the conversation even was. This way, although it would take longer, everyone would hopefully be satisfied.
She told Troy and Abed first. That was the easiest, as because the two were a couple, she had no doubt they’d be accepting. Additionally, in the time they’d lived together, she had a feeling they’d already picked up on some of her not-so-straight behaviours: the girl-crushes she formed on the pretty women in the movies they watched together and her disinterest or non-romantic affection towards the men she knew she was ‘supposed’ to swoon over; the way she giggled and twirled her hair while on the phone with a certain girl from Greendale she’d recently reconnected with; the one time she didn’t delete her search history from the apartment computer and Abed may or may not have seen her recent searches, which included among others, ‘am I gay test,’ ‘comphet meaning’ and ‘can you be straight but think girls are really pretty and rarely have long lasting feelings for men?’
She’d come out to them over breakfast one day, and they basically had the best response she could have wished for. They were totally cool with it, but didn’t make it a big deal. They joked about how she was no longer the token straight roommate, she hugged both of them, and the day went on as normal.
Annie had crossed their names off her list with a big smile on her face.
Next had been Britta. Annie had also guessed that she’d be accepting, as what had happened with Paige last year had been a bit misguided but well-intentioned. At least Annie didn’t have to worry about Britta only wanting to be her friend because she was a lesbian, because they were already friends, and Annie suspected Britta had learned her lesson.
As expected, Britta reacted well. Perhaps too well, loudly proclaiming her supporting for the LGBTQ community before asking a string of questions about what it was like dating girls and if kissing them was different if you were sobre and/or not doing it to prove you weren’t homophobic. Annie explained she didn’t know - she actually hadn’t kissed a girl yet - but did wonder if Britta’s questions weren’t just due to her being an ally. She could be wrong, but she had read something about queer people having a way of spotting each other. Still, it wasn’t her place to assume anything, and she put the thought out of her mind as she crossed off Britta’s name.
Next was Jeff. This was a bit trickier. Once again, she didn’t think Jeff would be at all homophobic (unless he turned out to be one of those men who only viewed relationships between women as hot, but she’d cross that bridge if she came to it), but coming out to him made her nervous for another reason. Ever since they’d kissed at the Transfer Dance, his feelings for her had seemed unclear. At first, he’d seemed determined to forget it ever happened - which she’d found unfair at the time, but now appreciated - but lately, it was possible he had actually become interested in her. It felt… really weird, when she thought about it for too long. Not only was she definitely not interested in him, but, partially due to their age gap, their relationship felt too close to a father-daughter or older brother-younger sister relationship to be romantic. Sometimes she wondered why she’d ever liked him like that at all.
Although, since she’d extensively researched what comphet was and realised that was undoubtedly what she’d been experiencing, she could understand a bit better she’d never really liked him to begin with, she’d just latched onto a seemingly unattainable man to convince herself she could be attracted to guys, yet again.
As everyone packed up their stuff to leave the study room, Annie remained seated. “Um, Jeff,” she said. “We’ve both got a free period now, right?”
“Right,” Jeff replied, not looking up from his phone.
“Would you mind if I talked to you about something?”
He looked at her curiously. “Yeah, sure.”
Troy, Abed and Britta had clearly all realised what was going on. Abed gave her a small, supportive smile, Troy gave a quick thumbs up, and Britta winked in a way Annie guessed was meant to be subtle, but no doubt everyone in the room saw.
“Come on, guys,” she said, ushering the others out of the room. “This sounds important, and private, and we’ve all got classes to get to.”
Shirley stopped, muttering that she’d forgotten a textbook, but Britta practically pushed her out of the door as Abed said in a deep voice, seeming to have taken the opportunity to act like a security guard, “Keep it moving.”
Annie smiled as she watched them leave, her friends dramatics a pleasant distraction from what she was about to do. She turned back to Jeff to see he’d put his phone down. Clearly, he knew this was serious. “So,” he said. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
Annie opened her mouth, let out a squeak, then closed it. This was going to be difficult. Maybe she should have just come out to everyone at the same time, the consequences be damned. That way, she would have got it all over with at once.
“Annie, is everything okay?” Jeff sounded so genuine in his concern, a relatively rare sight. “You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you?”
“No, everything’s fine,” she assured him, finding her voice, but he didn’t look convinced. She took a deep breath. “I was thinking recently about that time we kissed.” He looked confused for a second. Didn’t he remember that night? Not that she cared, of course. “You know? During the dance at the end of our first year? I had just decided not to move to Delaware with Vaughn-”
“Right, right,” he cut her off. “I remember. Sorry, go ahead.”
“Thank you,” she said curtly. “So, I’ve been thinking about our kiss, and-”
Once more, he interrupted her. This was just getting annoying. “Annie, look, I know I’ve been giving… pretty mixed signals about my feelings for you, or if I even have any, but lately I’ve taken a good look at myself, and realised that it would never really feel right to be with you. For many reasons, none of which are your fault. It’s just that you’re much younger than me, and you often feel like a little sister to me - as well as a friend, of course - so I’m sorry, but-”
“Jeff.” Her firm tone silenced him.
There, she thought. How does it feel to be interrupted?
“I don’t want to be with you either!”
“Really?” he checked. “Because it wouldn’t be your fault if you did, I’m the one who needs to keep whatever feelings I have for you in check. Plus, I mean, I wouldn’t blame you…”
She rolled her eyes, but a smile began creeping onto her face. “I swear. I was going to say that I’ve been thinking about that kiss because of how, back then, I thought I really liked you. In a romantic way, I mean. But recently, I’ve realised that I just made myself think I liked you, even loved you. I wanted to convince myself I could be attracted to men, so just like with Troy in high school, I picked an unattainable - or so I thought - man. In his case: someone cool and popular who I thought would never notice ‘little Annie Aderal.’ With you, a cool, older guy who just saw me as a child.”
“Annie.” Jeff’s tone was serious but not annoyed. “Are you saying what I think you are?”
She nodded, her lips a thin line. “I’m a lesbian, Jeff. I really hope this doesn’t change things between us, although, honestly, knowing you don’t want to be with me is a big relief, because I was worried I’d break your heart or make things weird, but…” She paused. She was getting ahead of herself. “Well, have I made things weird?”
“Of course you haven’t! Thank you for telling me, that was really brave, especially if you thought I was still interested in you.”
“Thanks,” she said. She quickly added, “It’s not that I thought you’d react really badly. I don’t see you as someone who thinks he’s somehow entitled to any women he has feelings for, but still… I didn’t want to hurt you.”
He stood up, walking around to her side of the table, presumably to remove the physical and metaphorical distance between them, and gesturing for her to stand up as well, which she did. “You haven’t hurt me at all, Annie, I promise. I care about you, so much, even - no, especially - as a friend, and I just want you to be happy. Even if I was madly in love with you - which, thankfully, I’m not - I could never be upset at you, or anyone, for this.”
Annie could feel tears forming in her eyes. “Aww, Jeff!” She practically threw herself at him, wrapping him in a tight hug which he happily returned, laughing.
“Okay, we don’t have to make this all dramatic,” he said, but Annie was sure he sounded a bit choked up.
They came apart, smiling at each other for a few seconds before Jeff hesitantly reached out and gave her a pat on the head. “For old time’s sake,” he explained.
Annie had never felt happier while being given a head pat, which didn’t say much, she knew, but it was accurate, as she’d probably felt happier in general at some point in her life. Still, this was definitely in her top ten.
That night, she crossed off Jeff’s name, remembering the days she would doodle hearts as she wrote down his name, or paired her first and his last. This time, she instead drew a little smiley face. That was far more accurate, she thought. The thought of Jeff no longer made her heart flutter in her chest, but he made her smile, and she was more than happy with that.
#community#nbc community#annie edison#jeff winger#troy barnes#abed nadir#britta perry#shirley bennett#pierce hawthorne#lesbiannie#trobed#community fanfic#my writing#ask#lesbiannie-rights
78 notes
·
View notes
Text
second fic I’ve posted! I’m so sorry for being so inactive… with no new content I’m feeling very unmotivated. Thanks for everyone who stuck around and support me! I’m here if you ever need to talk. I love you all! :)
There is absolutely no problem with Seb and Carlos working together.
Nope.
No problem at all.
Oh, except for the fact that Seb has been in love with Carlos since before he even met him.
But that’s not important.
Not at all.
He didn’t mean to fall in love with Carlos, truly he didn’t. But, honestly, how couldn’t you?
Mr. Cilli clapped his hands together rhythmically. “Alright everyone, today we’ll be ending our civil war unit. We’re going to be doing a project, it being the end of the year and all. You will work with a partner to create a fake episode of a tv show based around the idea of the civil war. Any questions?”
`Natalie Bagley shot her hand into the air. “Will we get to pick our partners?”
“Unfortunately not. You’ll work with whoever is sitting next to you.”
Seb turned his head to the side and realized that no one was sitting next to him. How had he not noticed that earlier?
Carlos Rodriguez came running through the history door and dropped a few pieces of paper and pencils.
Every other group had started working on the project already. No one even noticed that Carlos was here.
Well, almost no one.
“Mr. Rodriguez, that’s the third time this week. Next time I have to write you a detention slip.”
“I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!”
Seb’s legs started moving before his mind did, and before he noticed, he had gotten up to help Carlos.
“Here. You dropped a few things.” Seb handed Carlos a pencil from the ground.
“Thank you,” Carlos paused for a second before saying, “Pencils, you know? They’re slippery.”
Seb smiled at Carlos. “Yeah, I guess.”
Carlos quickly nodded and went to sit down in the chair next to Seb’s.
Mr. Cilli scribbled something down in his notebook and said, “Carlos, I assume that means you and Seb are working together.”
Seb’s eyes widened. Carlos? Working with him? He had to stop himself from smiling too wide.
“I mean,” Carlos started, “is that okay? With you I mean?”
Seb allowed himself to smile. “Yeah that’d be great.”
Carlos took a notebook out of his backpack and set it in front of him. “I’m Carlos. By the way.”
Seb smiled a little wider. “Oh I know. I’m Seb!”
“You.. know?” Seb couldn’t entirely read Carlos’s expression.
Seb widened his eyes. “I meant,” he searched his mind for an excuse, “I know your name. Like the name Carlos. It’s a- it’s a pretty name.” Well played. That didn’t sound too creepy. Probably.
Carlos looked almost flattered? Seb still couldn’t entirely understand. He could definitely understand the blush running to his face right now though.
“Thank you.” Carlos hesitated for a moment. “You have a pretty name too.”
Seb finally broke free from eye contact. Wow. Carlos had really pretty eyes. They were almost… distracting?
“But also,” Seb started, “I’ve seen you on the color guard. You’re really good!”
Carlos didn’t answer for a moment. “You really think so?”
Seb was surprised that Carlos would doubt his talent even for a second. “I know so. My older sister was the captain of the color guard before you, and she’s very impressed with their new leader.”
Carlos furrowed his eyebrows. Then he lightly gasped. “Your sister is Georgie Matthew-Smith?”
Seb thought Carlos looked like a lost puppy when he looked confused. It was so cute, that he almost forgot to answer the question. “The one and only! I’m not as talented in the dance department though.”
Carlos laughed, “Maybe you’ve just never had the right teacher.”
Seb just hummed in response. “So what are we thinking for this tv episode project?”
“Hmm.” Carlos thought for a moment. Then he gasped, “We should do something similar to a Glee episode! Like maybe they have to do a week where they have to sing songs that talk about the civil war? Or something similar to that?” He looked over at Seb, who was looking at him in a way he couldn’t exactly place. Carlos blushed and looked away. “Sorry. I was just being a gleek. Please ignore the last 30 seconds of your life.”
“I love glee. It’s my favorite show.”
Carlos smiled wider.
“That’s a great idea, Carlos. Let’s do it.”
..
The next day, Seb walked into the classroom with a smile on his face. He had spent his entire class time with Carlos yesterday, and he couldn’t be happier about it. Sure, they were both a little awkward, but Seb found it almost endearing.
Carlos ran into the classroom again and put his papers on the desk next to Seb. The bell rang and Carlos texted something to someone. Seb got a glimpse of his wallpaper before he closed his phone.
“Hey. I like your wallpaper on your phone!”
Carlos looked at him. “You like Broadway?”
Seb scoffed, “Are you kidding? Who doesn’t?”
Carlos rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised to know how many people did ‘Brigadoon’ and didn’t actually care for theatre.”
Seb pretended to look surprised, “You were in ‘Brigadoon’?” Of course he knew that Carlos was in this year’s spring show. He had been dying for a chance to have just one scene with him so they could talk.
“Yeah! I was ensemble.”
Seb smiled and said, “I was ensemble too! And I totally agree. If you don’t like theatre, why do the shows?”
Carlos smiled. “I didn’t even want to be in the show either. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love performing. But,” he trailed off for a second. “I actually wanted to be choreographer.” Carlos squeezed his eyes shut, fully prepared for Seb to start laughing.
“And they didn’t let you be one? That’s awful. You’re the best dancer in this school. In this city even! Anyone would be crazy not to make you a choreographer.”
Carlos looked at Seb for a second. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.
“Okay everyone! You did some brainstorming yesterday. Today you’ll start the slideshow for the project. Then tomorrow we’ll present to the class.”
Carlos finally broke eye contact with Seb and looked down at his paper.
“So? What about you?” Carlos asked subtly.
Seb raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”
“Do you have a dream role?”
Seb hesitated. “Don’t laugh.”
“Seb. I’m not going to laugh at you.”
Seb looked up at Carlos. “Sharpay,” he says quietly.
“Sharpay? Like from High School Musical?”
Seb couldn’t look at Carlos. He was too scared to see his reaction. Would he change his mind and laugh at Seb?
“Wow. You’d be great as Sharpay!”
Seb listened for sarcasm, but he didn’t seem to hear any. He looked at Carlos.
Seb didn’t really know what to say, so he just blushed and hoped Carlos didn’t notice.
Carlos was too busy blushing to notice the other boy’s red face.
…
Today was the big presentation day. Seb was a little nervous, but he was a performer! He could do anything.
Mostly anything that is.
“Okay,” Mr. Cilli announced, “Today is presentation day! I’ll give you guys 10 minutes to review, and then we’ll start with Natalie and Kaden, Ashlyn and Steph, Seb and Carlos,” the teacher went on and on about the order of groups presenting, but Seb had been distracted. Carlos still wasn’t in class. He wouldn’t ditch on the day of presenting.
Right?
Seb took out his phone and texted Carlos.
‘Hey is everything okay?’ He sent the message and waited for a response. He checked his phone after two minutes. No response.
Seb shot up his hand and asked to go to the bathroom.
He ran out the door and speed-walked down the hall.
When he threw open the bathroom door, he saw Carlos pacing back and forth across the small space. He looked so panicked, it made Seb kind of want to cry.
Carlos heard Seb open the door and looked over at him. Seb’s eyes were filled with so much worry and another emotion Carlos couldn’t quite put his finger on.
Carlos stopped against the wall and slid down to sit. He could feel his breathing getting faster, and he tried to slow it down.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Seb said in a hushed voice. He walked over next to him. “What’s wrong ‘Los? Why are you pacing?”
Carlos threw his head back. He was so scared that he didn’t comment on the cute nickname. “I’m scared, Seb. The last thing I read in front of people was a report in February. And it was a group project with four people. I barely had to talk.”
Carlos’s hands were fidgeting so much that Seb reached over and grabbed both of them with his own.
Carlos was so nervous that he barely noticed.
Okay, that was a complete lie.
Seb’s hands holding Carlos’s and his pretty blue eyes made Carlos forget all his worries. Seb’s hands were warm and soft. You would think they’d be rough from all the farm work, but they weren’t for some reason. Carlos would have to ask him about them one day.
“That’s not true Carlos. You memorized all the songs in Brigadoon in under a week. You were the first one in the cast who was off book.” Seb thought for a moment. “Just imagine it being a performance. You’re really good at those.”
Carlos looks at Seb. But this time, he really looks at him.
Seb has a bit of acne. His eyes are a little darker blue than he’d noticed before. His hands are a little sweaty. And his hair is messed up a little.
And honestly?
Carlos thinks he’s so beautiful.
Before either of them notice, about 15 seconds has passed.
Carlos is about to say something, but Seb speaks up instead.
“We should probably get back to class. Our project isn’t going to present itself.”
When they get back in the classroom, they’ve been gone about 6 minutes. Mr. Cilli has always been lenient towards his students, so they only get a warning.
When it’s their turn to present, Carlos can’t stop looking at Seb. All he can think about is what he said earlier. And also, just him in general.
Seb isn’t looking at Carlos. He’s too worried that he’ll get lost in Carlos’s eyes, so he just avoids eye contact. Which pains him a little bit, but it’s alright.
In the end, their presentation gets a B.
They get points off for being distracted during the presentation.
And they’re both more than okay with that.
-pipes 🤍
#high school musical the musical the series#hsmtmts#hsmtmts s2#carlos rodriguez#seb matthew smith#joe serafini#frankie rodriguez#seblos fanfic#seblos fic#seblos#seb x carlos#carlos x seb#pipes talks fandom shiz
26 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
blogybergyboy-blog
Untitled
30yroldlibra
My Libra Thoughts: Relatable?
tamilactor-blog
Untitled
kae-straus-blog
King Princess
amalmadhavan
Dreams of Backpackers