#But he wasn’t that surprised that his friend was alive so idk man

[toohottohoot]

SNEAKERS SPOILERS:

the gayest thing a man can say to another man they’ve known since childhood: “i could never kill my friend”

the second gayest thing said directly afterwards: “kill my friend”

[bruh-changbin]

patience is a virtue

part 3 to invasion of privacy series

pairing: roommate!heeseung x afab reader

genre: smut, angst, minimal fluff (minors dni)

warnings: unprotected sex (be safe), use of the pull out method (do not do this), piv, tit sucking, nipple play, mutual masturbation, some indecent public acts, mentions of vomit, alcolohol consumption, heeseung is so bad at communicating it is actually physically painful, jake is still annoying and hoon is a film bro oh god

word count: 8.6k

a/n: pls don't gut me ik this took forever but i hope its worth it at least lawl enjoy yourselves (but not too much......) also someone needs to take ellipses away from me. also not proofread

read part 1 and part 2 first or else this won't make a ton of sense

[shithead]: you guys wanna come to the cave to play smash? i got some more of that indica and jay finally cleaned his bong 🙄

[grandfather]: come on dude it wasn’t even that dirty

[cullen tease]:..... no comment

[cullen tease]: but yea i’m down

[grandfather]: what about heeseung?

[shithead]: idk… it’s just been radio silence from him for like 3 days

[cullen tease]: yea what happened to him?

[grandfather]: well the last time we talked to him was right before he hung out with y/n sooo

[shithead]: no way

[shithead]: do you think she fucked him so hard he passed out for three whole days?

[cullen tease]: shut the fuck up jaeyun

[shithead]: i’m just saying!!! if i had a hot roommate like that i would gladly let her destroy me

[cullen tease]: that’s because you’re a man whore

[grandfather]: come on guys cut it out, you know how heeseung tends to get

[grandfather]: emotional

[cullen tease]: that’s the understatement of the year

[shithead]: wait what if…….

[shithead]: she killed him

[grandfather]: you’re an idiot

[shithead]: it’s a possibility! what if it’s like a jennifer’s body type situation

[cullen tease]: hold up, you’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[shithead]: duh… it has megan fox in it

[grandfather]: okay let's not stray from the situation at hand

[shithead]: wait hoon why is it so surprising that i’ve seen jennifer’s body?

[cullen tease]: i just didn’t peg you as the type of guy to enjoy films like that

[shithead]: what the fuck does that mean

[grandfather]: guys

[cullen tease]: dude come on, your favourite movie is grown ups 2

[shithead]: what’s wrong with grown ups 2? 

[cullen tease]: what’s wrong with it is that it’s trash

[shithead]: are you fr? it is a cinematic masterpiece and i don’t appreciate you acting all high and mighty because you’re a fucking film major who likes boring and sad movies like the godfather or whatever

[grandfather]: can you two shut the fuck up? we need to figure out what’s going on with hee

[adult virgin]: i’m not dead

[cullen tease]: heeseung!

[grandfather]: heeseung!

[shithead]: heeseung! you’re alive!!!

[grandfather]: how you doin’ buddy?

[shithead]: yea what went down with you and sexy roomie at the drive-in? i just know the two of you got up to some freaky shit

[grandfather]: jaeyun i swear to god

[adult virgin]: i don’t wanna talk about it

[cullen tease]: uh oh

[shithead]: oh shit

[grandfather]: oh jeez

[shithead]: jay you question why we call you grandfather when you say shit like ‘oh jeez’

[grandfather]: now’s not the time jake

[cullen tease]: come on heeseung, i’m sure it wasn’t that bad

[adult virgin]: i’m never going on a date again

[shithead]: wait i thought you said it wasn’t a date???

[grandfather]: jake you are one text away from getting kicked out of this group chat

[cullen tease]: i say we kick him out now

[adult virgin]: can you guys please stop blowing up my phone? 

[shithead]: no can do my friend

[shithead]: it’s time for an intervention

[adult virgin]: i’m good

[adult virgin]: the last thing i need right now is you guys screaming at me while i’m trying to cope

[shithead]: too late, jay’s already got the car running. i’m bringing weed!

[cullen tease]: i’ll bring the funyuns

[shithead]: see you soon hee!

[adult virgin]: guys fr i just wanna be alone

[adult virgin]: guys?

bang bang bang!!!

heeseung recoils when he hears his friends banging on his front door a mere 11 minutes after they said they were coming; a mere 11 minutes after he explicitly told them not to. he recoils even more when he hears you open the door for them. 

“oh, hey y/n…” jay does nothing to try to hide his discontent when he sees you open the door and not his heartbroken friend. 

jake, who’s lowkey wanted to bang you since heeseung first moved in with you, pays no mind to his friend's wariness and envelops you in a rib-crushing hug whilst shouting “i haven’t seen you in forever!!!!!”

“hey guys!” you say with a soft smile before patting jake on the shoulder in an attempt to let him know that he’s stealing all of your oxygen, “come in, can i get you anything?”

jay just scoffs, “no thanks y/n, we don’t need anything from you.”

a somewhat puzzled look makes its way onto your face, “ok… well heeseungs in his room if that’s what you’re here for.” you nonchalantly motion down the hall before returning to the kitchen, leaving the three boys alone in the foyer. 

“damn jay, you could’ve been a little nicer. we still don’t know what even went down between them, remember?” sunghoon murmurs while leading the way to heeseungs bedroom. 

“i guess we’re about to find out,” jay holds his breath before tentatively knocking on heeseungs door before opening it and stepping inside.

when heeseung sees his friends open his door and step into his room, he rolls over so his back is facing them. he thought he was very clear that he is not in the mood to talk. nevertheless, the three of them stride into his room like a boy band and close the door behind them. heeseung hopes they pay no mind to the piles and piles of bunched up kleenex littering his room that are all shrivelled up from his tears.  

“heeeyyy buddy!” jay croons to his dishevelled friend as if he’s talking to a puppy or small child. 

“damnnnn hee, that must’ve been some good pussy if it’s got you acting like this!!!” jake exclaims, which earns him an elbow in the ribs. 

“didn’t i tell you guys not to come? i’m trying to latibulate in peace,” heeseung groans, his voice so monotonous and strained it sounds almost robotic.  

“come on, you didn’t seriously think we were gonna listen to you, right?” sunghoon says matter-of-factly, his ebony bangs covering his eyes and making him look eerily mysterious. 

heeseung just sighs. he feels his mattress shift underneath him and looks over to see that jay has taken a seat on the edge of his bed, his eyes full of what appears to be mostly concern, some disgust as he swipes a couple of dirty tissues onto the floor (he tries to cover this up with a crooked smile).

“sooo what happened?” jake breaks the silence and asks the question that’s sitting on the tip of everyone’s tongue. heeseung, now in a seated position, places his head between his knees and does his best to swallow his shame before retelling the event that took place a few days prior. 

“well, we went to the drive-in…” he starts, voice muffled due to his head hanging low, “and at first it was fine, but then… an… intimate scene came on.” 

sunghoon hangs his head at this, seemingly knowing where the story is going. 

heeseung can’t bare to look at his friends faces as he proceeds, his cheeks ablaze with embarrassment as he recounts his unintentional virginity reveal, the two of you freaking it whilst surrounded by other movie goers, and the painful, painful silence that enveloped him for the rest of the night. 

“and then she just… didn’t say anything. why the fuck didn’t she say anything???!!!!” he whines, his tone a complete 180 from what it was when he first spoke to his friends a short 3 minutes ago.

seemingly at a loss for words, jay just rests his hand on his friends shoulder, offering a gentle pat while sunghoon mumbles a quiet but heart-felt ‘beats me’ from where he’s leaning against heeseungs wall. 

“females are so difficult to understand.”

“don’t say females jake, it makes you sound like an incel,” sunghoon suspires, the frayed ends of his hair fluttering in the process, “maybe she just thought you wanted to get it over with? or that you wanted something casual?”

“i don’t do casual.”

“okay, and how the fuck is she supposed to know that?” sunghoon retorts, defending you since you’re unable to defend yourself - jake subtly nods in agreeance. 

“i don’t know! she’s way more emotionally intelligent than all of us combined so i thought that maybe she’d… pick up on it or something.” heeseung feels his energy depleting and he longs to simply curl up under his duvet and sleep the rest of the day away - or maybe the whole week actually. 

“heeseung,” jay sympathizes, “we know you like y/n… but maybe it's just not gonna work out.”

jake interjects, “yea, and if she can’t see what an absolute package you are right now then maybe she never will! it’s her loss really,” he nods enthusiastically while looking at jay and sunghoon, prompting them to do the same - they do.

heeseung, with swollen cheeks and a bruised heart, can only offer a quiet “thanks guys” while wishing for the tears threatening to spill from the corners of his eyes to go away. he knows that moving on from you, whilst being extremely difficult, is the best thing to do.

after heeseungs feeble thanks, the room falls silent. so silent only that the hum of the a/c is the only detectable sound - that, and the steady inhales and exhales of the 4 boys trapped in heeseungs stuffy bedroom. someone exhales before the shuffling of feet and the creaking of floorboards can be heard. heeseung hardly has any time to react before something (or someone?) is flying through the air and is on track to land directly on top of him.

“DOG PILE ON HEESEUNG!!!” jake shouts while full-on launching himself onto heeseungs body, effectively squashing him into his mattress. the weight of his friend knocks the wind out of him and heeseung barely manages to croak “jaeyun what the fuc-” before the weight is doubled, then tripled as sunghoon and jay follow suit.

it’s hard to tell whose limbs belong to who as heeseungs friends tussle his hair and squeeze his cheeks (and crush his rib cage, but that’s besides the point) in an attempt to get their glum, heartbroken friend to cheer up. and, for the first time in days, a smile appears on heeseungs face.

order confirmed. you will be updated when your food is en route for delivery.

as if on cue, heeseung’s stomach lets out a cavernous growl. he pats it comfortingly as if to say ‘it’s ok, soon you’ll be filled to the brim with an ice cold baja blast and 2 crunch wrap supremes. just hold on a little longer.’

nothing quite like eating away all of your sorrows.

it’s easy to forget how pivotal a kitchen is in one’s everyday life until it’s stripped away from you like a baby from its mother. ok, maybe not stripped away. more like consciously avoiding it to make sure that you don’t have an awkward run in with your roommate who performed oral sex on you several days ago and is now sending you mixed signals. the thought of having to hold an actual conversation with you makes heeseungs skin crawl. 

he’s been successfully avoiding you for 4 days now, ensuring that he only leaves his room when absolutely necessary - and only doing so when he’s positive that you’re in your room or out of the house. before exiting his bedroom he spends minutes with his ear pressed up to his flimsy bedroom door, making sure the coast is clear before making a break for it.

one may think he’s being extra. just talk to her for crying out loud! but heeseung has managed to convince himself that you think he’s bottom of the barrel scum; the last piece of bread that always gets tossed; the mosquito on your wall that you whack with a rolled up newspaper as soon as you see it.

trash! 

and so, he spends his days rotting away in his bedroom, his mattress now donning a permanent indent of the shape of his body; his trash can overflowing with wrappers from taco bell and mcdonalds; his laptop struggling to keep up with all of the mind-numbing streaming of shitty television he’s been doing. 

one time he gave into his hopeless romantic side and watched the notebook but it made him cry so hard he woke up with a migraine. another time he got an ad for top gun: maverick and he wanted to die. stupid top gun. stupid tom cruise. stupid miles teller with his stupid moustache. now, he sticks to scrolling through tik tok and watching reruns of below deck sailing yacht and survivor. 

he can feel his eyes starting to get heavy when a vibration from his phone jolts him back to reality, scrambling to find the device that he so mindlessly tossed underneath his comforter. his fingers finally come in contact with it, and he peers at the lit-up screen.

your food has been delivered. receipt/tip available.

yes! it feels as if his stomach has been quite literally eating itself for the past half hour, so heeseung leaps up at the prospect of soon having food in his belly. in fact he’s so excited at the idea of his taco bell order waiting for him that the thought of doing his ritualistic check to make sure he won’t have a run-in with you completely slips his mind.

so, when he swings open his door and bolts down the hallway, head filled with nothing but thoughts of chowing down on a tortilla filled with meat, lettuce and cheese, his heart practically falls to his stomach when instead he almost literally runs into you. you, holding a glass of water with your eyes wide like a fawn, taking in heeseungs dishevelled appearance after not seeing him for over half a week. 

shit. 

shitshitshitshitshitshit.

this was not supposed to happen. 

“heeseung!” you say with enthusiasm (and a bit of concern).

it is in this very moment that heeseung fully understands what a deer must feel like when falling in front of the headlights of an oncoming vehicle - frozen.

“uh…. heeey y/n.” his throat feels like it’s about to close. is he having an allergic reaction to you? 

seeing as plan a (get his food and go back to his room while avoiding you all together) has fallen through, he attempts to resort to plan b: grab taco bell bag and run like hell back to the safety of his bedroom. 

unfortunately plan b also falls through, for once he worms himself to the front door and grabs the slightly warm paper bag and drink left on his porch he whips around only to see you standing in front of him, blocking his path to the safe haven that is his musty bedroom, (he’s reminded of admiral ackbar in episode vi of star wars - ‘it’s a trap!!!’).

“wait, can we talk?” your face is one of disquietude, “i feel like you’ve been… avoiding me.”

upon hearing your concerns, heeseung does what he’s best at - playing dumb. 

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

your face quickly changes, brows furrowed and eyes slightly squinted as if to say ‘are you shitting me?’. in a split second it seems as if you’re able to read heeseung like an open book, much to his dismay, before you open your mouth to speak again. 

“did… did what i do at the drive-in make you uncomfortable?”

“no…” more like what you didn’t do - profess your undying love and devotion to him with tears in your eyes while he reassures you that he feels the same way and the two of you ride off into the sunset on a horse and start a new life in venice or kyoto or somewhere romantic and secluded.  

“okay, so then why are you acting so weird?”

“i’m… stressed. sooo stressed. classes are killing me and i have a huge paper due soon.” liar. he’s excelling in all of his classes and doesn’t have anything due for another 5 days.

“oh, well what’s it about? maybe i can help you!” you offer while taking a step towards him. usually his heart would be leaping at the prospect of the two of you having some one on one time even if it is for a class, but right now that’s the last thing he needs. 

“it’s about….. shakespeare.”

“shakespeare? i thought you were an engineering major-”

“it’s an elective. i’m very interested in classical literature.” no he’s not. 

“oh, nice. hey why are you talking so weirdly? you sound like siri when i ask her a question.”

that’s it. he needs to get out of this conversation before he raises any more suspicion. 

“i’m way deep into the academic headspace. speaking of,” he motions towards his bedroom door with his index finger, “i need to get back to work.” more like he needs to wallow in his own self-pity. 

“wait, can we talk more? i still feel like you’re not telling me something,” you say while looking like a kicked puppy, and heeseung tries to not fall into your glassy, pleading gaze.

“it’s fine y/n, i get it.” he thinks you’re the light of his life and you think of him as your loser roommate who was all whiny about being a virgin so you did what you needed to do to shut him up. case closed. 

“get… what?”

heeseung doesn’t respond, doesn’t give you the time of day. he simply exits the kitchen and closes his bedroom door behind him. he spares no final glance behind him because he knows the sight of you standing there with a hurt and perplexed look on your face will have him crawling back to you on his hands and knees. 

instead, he shuffles into bed and tries to focus on whatever he was watching on his laptop prior to the most painful conversation he’s ever had in his entire life, his now tepid crunch wrap sitting in his limp grasp. 

salty crocodile tears start rolling down his cheeks for the nth time this week. 

“i am gonna get sooo many bitches tonight.”

“you shouldn’t call women bitches jake, that’s rude.”

pre-gaming in the cave before going out is a must. the four guys play a couple rounds of pong and flip cup while jay and jake chug putrid pilsner’s and pabst blue ribbons while sunghoon and heeseung opt for a much more tame rum and coke. 

tonight he’s being dragged to a place he seldom ventures: a club.

heeseung doesn’t really like clubs.

he prefers bars where he can sit and drink and talk to his friends instead of clubs where he has to (attempt to) dance and drink and shout over the blasting music to communicate with anyone. alas, jake was adamant on going to this one particular place downtown where apparently he got with 3 different girls in one night (everyone knows that’s definitely not true, but they continue to humour him). 

furthermore, his friends have decided that the financial blow of cover fees and shots at a club is worth getting heeseung up and out of his frowsty bedroom that has somewhat turned into something you would see on an episode of hoarders, so tonight’s outing will be free (for him at least). 

“okay hee,” jake grabs his friend by the shoulders and shakes him aggressively, as if they’re two football players about to head onto the field, “gimme the game plan for tonight broski.”

“i’m gonna forget about y/n, and i’m gonna find a pretty girl,” heeseung says in the most sportsmanlike manner he can conjure up, “and i’m gonna fu…… i’m gonna make love to her.”

jake simply shakes his head in dismay, “no heeseung, you’re gonna fuck her. got it? go ahead, say it.”

“i’m gonna…” his neck feels like it’s flaring up, “i can’t say it, it feels rude and misogynistic.” 

“dude, girls like to get fucked. they think it’s hot!!! now say ‘fuck’,” jake attests before staring at heeseung expectantly. 

“okay………………. fuck.”

“hell yea bro! fuck!” jay joins in while clapping heeseung on the back in support. 

“yea, fuck!!!”

“FUCK!!!!!!” sunghoon joins as well. 

“FUUUUUUCK!!!” heeseung screams. the liquor in his bloodstream, while not copious, is making him feel fuzzy.

and finally, jake closes it out with, “LETS GO FUCK SHIT UP BROS!!!!!!” before storming out of the door with sunghoon following suit.

jay swings a beefy arm around heeseungs blocky shoulders and drags him along, the two of them soon catching up to hoon and jake who are whooping and hollering about god knows what. in the back of heeseungs mind he wonders what he’s gotten himself into.

immediately upon arrival heeseung is reminded once again of his detestment for clubs. they’re too loud and ho, and impersonal.

the floors and walls are shaking with some throwback early 2000’s pop song and after about 10 seconds the soles of his shoes are already covered in sticky syrup from spilled drinks. he follows his friends into the sea of people trying to get drunk or trying to get laid or both.

in the midst of the crowd he brushes shoulders with a guy he swears he’s seen before, a tall brute guy with blonde hair tied into a man bun and a red flannel hugging his shoulders (who wears a flannel to a club?), but he can’t quite remember when and where they’ve crossed paths before. 

as sunghoon shoulders his way to the bar to order a round of tequila shots, heeseung stays planted to his spot on the floor, his eyes scanning his surroundings and taking everything in to the best of his abilities considering that purple and blue LED lights are painting everyone and everything within the establishment. 

his eyes make their way from the bar to the dance floor to a section of stand-up tables, where he finds a pretty girl in leather pants and a cheetah print corset top staring right back at him. when their gaze’s connect she flashes him a small smile, which he returns.

“jake,�� heeseung smacks his friend’s shoulder, “that girl won’t stop staring at me.”

“see hee! we told you you’d pull someone.”

he smirks, then panics, “what should i do?”

“what’s going on?” sunghoon turns around with four shooters balanced between his spindly ple fingers, each one filled with a menacing clear liquor that will ultimately decide his fate this evening. you’re not you when you’re sober but you’re you when you’re drunk!

jake grabs a shot greedily, like a leprechaun stumbling upon a pot of gold, “some chick is ogling at hee.”

sunghoon’s lip curls upwards, “lets go dawg!” he cheers while passing heeseung a shot as if it's a reward for receiving attention from a woman. 

heeseung stares at the tequila in the glass he’s holding with his thumb and index finger; it stares back at him. in one swift move he downs it, then does the same with jake’s, jay’s, and finally sunghoon’s, who all stare at him in disbelief. he tries his best to not make a sour face, but he can’t hold back the deep cough that leaps out of him as the tequila burns his throat on its way down his esophagus and into his stomach.

“wow, okay.” jay says in astonishment, which prompts him to start laughing; everyone else begins to laugh as well, including heeseung. 

“go talk to her shithead!” jake exclaims while shoving heeseung towards the mystery girl and her friends with much more force than necessary, making him stumble over his own feet much like bambi attempting to walk for the first time. 

when he’s close enough he flashes her a toothy grin, his eyes trained on hers; her pupils look like deep pools of ink in the scarcity of good lighting. she just looks at him, a pretty smile painted on her face that pushes the apples of her cheeks to the sky. 

“hey.”

“hi~”

“i’m heeseung.”

“okay heeseung, wanna dance?”

“uh sure!” he exclaims, albeit maybe a little too much excitement in his inflection. 

the cheetah girl doesn’t say anything, just grabs his hand by the wrist (and thank god his wrist because his palms are embarrassingly sweaty) and drags him in the general direction of the dance floor. before he becomes completely swallowed by the mass of swaying bodies, he catches sunghoon and jay giving him a thumbs up from across the room - jake is too busy making out with someone to do the same. 

heeseung feels the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest and lower back as he gets mixed up with the plethora of other sweaty bodies, trying to move in a sensual yet confident way that hopefully impresses the pretty girl he’s praying he’ll go home with. with his nose tucked into the crook of her neck he rocks his body against hers to the beat of the music, his pelvis bumping against her ass methodically.

“you’re so cute!” she squeals at his awkward attempt to grind up on her.

dear god. when oh when will he ever the patronizing, dehumanizing, emasculating label of ‘cute’? cute is what you say when you see a nest of baby bunnies, or an elderly couple on a date. heeseung is a grown man, he should be called handsome, statuesque, sexy even!!!

nevertheless, heeseung attempts to not let cheetah girl’s comment sour his mood. she’ll see how manly he really is, he’ll show her. in fact he’ll show her right now!

in this very moment he discovers why alcohol has been gifted the name of liquid courage since before he can even process what he’s doing he’s pulling cheetah girl out of the stuffy crowd of inebriated club goers, dragging her to an empty bathroom stall, and placing his tequila coated lips on hers. 

she immediately reciprocates, because why else would she be giving him bedroom eyes across a crowded club if she didn’t want something along this vein to occur? despite being a virgin (? does getting your dick suck count as a loss of virginity?), he has made out with multiple girls on multiple different occasions prior to this one, so he lets his mouth and tongue and hands act on their own accord. 

it feels as if his brain is swimming inside of his skull, making all of his senses blurred and fuzzy like tv static. he feels a pair of teeth sinking into his bottom teeth and he groans, his eyes squeezing shut impossibly tighter and his fingers digging into cheetah girl’s hips. she emits and airy moan in response, allowing heeseung to slot his tongue against hers - he tastes the vodka mixed with cranberry juice she was drinking when he approached her on the inside of her mouth.

the tip of his nose continuously bumps against hers as he sloppy sucks on her tongue and her teeth, his lips soon detaching to make their way across her jaw and down her neck. there he sinks his canines into her skin, causing her to hiss in both pleasure and pain before exhaling blissfully, her hot breath fanning across heeseung face as he reverts to kissing her on the mouth once again. 

from the dj booth he hears the intro of a song that has his eyes shooting open - baby one more time by britney spears. the song that you alway play when you’re getting ready to go out, the song he chose to play during the car ride to the drive-in. he feels a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as he thinks about the way you touched him that night, the way you wrapped your hand and lips around his cock without a second thought. his jaw slacks and his hands fall to his sides as his brain starts to move at a million miles per hour.

a mouth that’s not yours is pressed against his while a tongue that’s not yours slips inside and traces his teeth. heeseung can hear his pulse in his ears beating faster than the bass that vibrates the floors and the walls and the ceiling of the club that he now so desperately wishes he wasn’t in. a hand that isn’t yours pops the button of his jeans and slips past the waistband of his underwear. all he can think is how this feels so not… right. none of this is right!

without properly thinking he somewhat shoves the pretty but unknown girl off of him, prompting her to shout “what the fuck asshole??!!?” before storming out of the stall and off to find her friends to undoubtedly complain about what a selfish prick he is. but honestly, he doesn’t care. all he can think about is you and your touch and everything you encompass. 

with a considerable amount of shoving heeseung makes his way outside, paying no mind to the select people that shoot him dirty looks after getting elbowed in the side. too inebriated to consider ordering an uber or calling a cab, he begins the 20 minute trek back to his apartment where he’s praying that you’re still residing, likely settled in your bed reading a book or watching season 2 of the bear. the cool night air stings his lungs as he trips and stumbles on the concrete with every other step he takes on his way back home, his way back to you. 

being outside does absolutely nothing to sober heeseung up (especially considering that he downed 4 tequila shots not so long ago), and when the familiar front door of your shared rental house comes into view he practically runs to it, swinging it open and letting it bang against the wall before calling your name and jogging down the hallway. his shoes clomp against the hardwood floors as he approaches your door, the soft yellow glow emanating from underneath it the only source of light in the dark hallway.  

“y/n?” heeseung barges into your bedroom, almost ripping your door off of its hinges in the process. once inside he sees you perched on your bed, your sheets pulled over your bent knees and a book with a splotchy blue cover in your grasp. 

“what are you doing?” he questions you breathlessly. 

your glance shifts from heeseung to the open book in your hands then back to heeseung, “reading?”

“oh, duh,” he pretends to facepalm while chuckling, your eyes still trained on his with a glint of scepticism. the gravity of his situation starts to dawn on him and he braces himself against your doorframe in an attempt to get the floor to stop spinning.

you furrow your brows and stare at heeseung pointedly, “are you drunk?”

“a little,” he hiccups, “actually a lot, but that’s besides the point.” finally he feels the courage he had 20 minutes ago at the club surge through him once more and he stumbles into your room, stopping at the corner of your bed and gazing down on you like you’re an ant.

“i have to tell you something.”

“okay.”

silence. 

“...what do you wanna tell me?”

“oh, right.” come on heeseung, it’s now or never. he decides to take a seat on the edge of your bed so he’s looking directly at you, and he picks at the holes in his jeans as he ponders how to start. 

“uhh… i really like the way you fold the dish towels in the kitchen.”

a look of shock makes its way onto your face - you definitely weren’t expecting him to say that of all things. before you can utter a word, a sound even, heeseung starts to ramble.

“and you smell really nice. like, really nice. and i think you’re really pretty, e-even when you’re angry, like when i wake you up to ask for a ride to campus when i’ve missed the bus. and i like how you chew on the inside of your cheek when you’re focused, and how you ruffle my hair when i say something stupid… which is a lot.”

he pauses briefly to catch his breath, then continues on, “and i don’t let anyone eat my lucky charms except for you, n-not even my friends when they spend the night, because i know they remind you of being a kid and that you like to pick out the clover shaped marshmallows. and i like the way you draw smiley faces in the condensation on the mirror in the bathroom after you shower, and the way you exclusively listen to stevie nicks when you’re cleaning, an-”

“heeseung,” you interject, causing him to draw in a shaky inhale, “what are you trying to say?”

“what i’m trying to say is that i lo-” nope!!!!!! waaay too soon. luckily even drunk heeseung can recognize the damage an actual profession of love would cause. thank god he caught himself. 

“i really really like you, ok? and i feel like you just see me as a-” here come the waterworks, “as a looooserrrrrrrr,” try as he might, heeseung can’t stop the pathetic, drunken sobs that escape his trembling lips. 

“oh god, heeseung-” your feeble voice does little to drown out the wails emanating from the drunken boy perched on the corner of your bed, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed pink; you’re unsure if it’s from the alcohol or the crying. 

half a week of pent up confusion and sadness and heartbreak escapes him in the form of reverberating howls, his shoulders shaking even after you place a comforting hand on his back in an attempt to calm him down. 

“and when you did… that at the drive-in, i thought that maybe meant that you liked me too.” he sniffles before wiping his nose with his sleeve; you reach over to your night stand and hand him a tissue. 

“oh jesus, i’m so sorry hee i didn’t mean to confuse you i just-” you take a second to collect your thoughts, your thumb still caressing heeseungs backs through his shirt, “the way you were talking just made it seem like you just wanted to get it over with,” your hand doesn’t leave his back, “like, no strings attached, you know?”

“no… not no strings attached. i want strings attached. i want exclusivity. i want you.” his tears roll down to his mouth and he can taste the salt on his tongue. 

“heeseung…” you all but whisper, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. 

he wants to say more, only when he tries to formulate his thoughts into words, he finds himself yaking all over your floor before passing out.

pain. 

the first thing heeseung feels when he wakes up is pain.

not mental pain, which is what he’s felt for the past 5 days, but physical pain. an aching headache that shoots up from the base of his skull and wraps around to his forehead and flares at the back of his eyeballs. it’s settled, he is never touching alcohol ever again.

an acidic burn tickles his throat, and soon the memories from last night come flooding back to him. the cheetah girl at the club, the solemn and unsobering walk home, the drunken confession, and lastly, the puking. 

he cracks his eyes open and immediately recoils, for the golden glow of the morning sun increases the aching in his head and behind his eyes tenfold. jesus, what time is it? a couple of blinks help his eyes adjust to the light, and he becomes aware of the figure sitting to the right of him. in a split second he soon realizes that he’s in your room, tucked under your sheets, inhaling the scent of your shampoo that’s become permanently woven into your pillows. 

oh? oh. oh god. did you two….?

heeseungs restlessness draws your attention, and soon you're gazing down at him with a soft expression that makes heeseung feel all soft like honey. 

“hey sleeping beauty.” you tease, your eyes still puffy with traces of sleep and the book you were reading before he oh so rudely interrupted you last night is in your hands again - a well-loved copy of murakami’s kafka on the shore, which you place on your nightstand for the sake of passing heeseung a tall glass of water and an advil. he downs both immediately. 

“please tell me that the image i have of myself puking on your floor is something my brain conjured up while i was sleeping and not something that actually happened,” he rasps, throat stinging and nose stuffy.

“hate to break it to ya buddy,” you tsk while nodding sympathetically, “but that actually happened.”

heeseung shoves his head into your pillow, his thumbs pressing against his closed eyelids both in an attempt to relieve the ache and as an act of shame. he groans aloud, “oh god y/n i am so sorry, i-”

“heeseung it’s o-kay,” you punctuate, “shit happens.” 

still unable to look at you, heeseung just nods, the friction from your silk pillowcase making a couple strands of his hair stand on end. 

“besides, it was mostly clear,” you look off into the distance, “mostly.”

a second of quiet, and then you ask him, “how much of last night do you remember?”

he rolls onto his back, index and middle fingers of his right hand pinching the bridge of his nose, “most of it, it guess. i remember going out with my friends, stumbling back here and… telling you that i like you…”

“actually i believe you said that you really, really like me.” your sleep swollen lips curve into a teasing smirk. 

“fuck off,” he jeers while playfully pushing your shoulder. 

“woah!!! lee heeseung drops f-bombs now eh?”

he just chuckles, his hands moving to pass through his frazzled hair. as he shifts under your poofy comforter he realizes he’s still donning the clothes he wore last night - spare for his shoes, which he’s assuming you took off of him and likely put them on the shoe rack by the front door. 

a silence settles over the two of you, but this time it’s comfortable. it’s not estranged or pointed, but hospitable. 

“i didn’t know you felt that way about me.” you state. it’s not a positive or negative statement, simply neutral; an admission. 

heeseung doesn’t say anything, just gazes at your side profile and admires the way your eyelashes grace the tops of your cheeks, the way your top lip converges at your cupids bow, the way your cheekbones are dotted with blemishes. 

“can i kiss you?” he asks, “please?” 

a plea.

and, in your secluded bedroom on this bright saturday morning, you answer him by pressing your lips to his. 

it’s strange, since heeseung can’t seem to discern any actual sensations, he just feels incredibly warm. warm and soft, like taffy that’s been left out and has melted in the glow of the sun. his heart is flipping inside of the cage that is his ribs as he pushes his pursed lips against yours in reciprocation.

you detach your lips from his for a second only to reattach them moments later in a deeper, more passionate kiss that heeseung exhales into, the tip of his nose gracing yours as he tilts his head to sink impossibly deeper into you. his curious hands make their way up to the back of your neck where he grabs ahold and pulls you against him so your torso is on top of his own, your heart beating against his. 

underneath the confines of your comforter heeseung feels your leg glide against his own, the sheets crinkling and tangling in the process. his mouth continues to dance against yours with his tongue experimentally poking out every so often before he pushes it past your lips and into your hot mouth. a whimper makes its way out of you and heeseung swears that if he were standing his knees surely would’ve given out from underneath him. 

“heeseung…” you whine before nipping at his cushiony bottom lip, sucking at it to soothe the sting - and to make heeseung swoon even more. ugh! he just can’t get enough of you and your sickeningly sweet demeanour.

as you continue to kiss and suck at heeseung pouty lips and perfect teeth you become more and more restless, your hands moving to smooth over the expanse of his chest and the tops of his shoulders where they come to rest. the palms of your hands are soft and delicate and they send a shiver down heeseung’s spine as he feels them grace his cloth covered skin that’s slightly damp with sweat. 

with (what seems like) some reluctance, you remove your mouth from heeseung’s with a wet smack. when he cracks open his eyes he finds you beholding him wistfully, your pupils dilated and lips swollen and glossy with lip gloss of his own making. 

“can you show me how you get yourself off?”

your voice is deep and slow; sultry, like a glass of oxblood coloured cabernet sauvignon. his breath hitches in his throat once he fully registers the request you just made. show you? on his own??? he does his best to swallow his nerves. 

“sure,” heeseung agrees bashfully, “if you can do the same.”

“okay.” you smile before tossing the blankets off of both of your hot bodies. a much welcomed gust of cool air causes heeseung to erupt in a fit of goosebumps (although he’s not quite sure if that’s from the change in temperature or his current predicament). 

unsure of what to do next, he waits to follow your lead. with hungry eyes he watches you pull of your pyjama bottoms before tossing them in a heap on the floor, leaving you in a pair of plain light blue panties and an oversized band tee. in somewhat of a rush heeseung fumbles with the hardware of his jeans, struggling to pop the button and tug down the copper zipper at the fault of his nerves. eventually he does so successfully, discarding his bottoms before becoming stuck in limbo.

with deft fingers you begin to drag the hem of your shirt upwards, exposing more and more of your torso before stopping once you reach your sternum. the soft underside of your breasts are just barely peeking out from underneath the fabric. 

heeseung watches with wide eyes and a painfully hard cock as you slip your hand underneath the waistband of your panties in one swift motion, a motion that he’s sure you’ve done hundreds of times before this. his brain swims as he thinks about all of the times you’ve touched yourself in this very room, in this very bed. 

your knuckles strain and push at the fabric of your underwear as you play with yourself, your chest rising and falling steadily but with slightly more erraticism than before. heeseung follows in your footsteps and reaches to the thick elastic waistband of his boxers, hesitating for only a second before pushing the garment down to his hips, allowing his hard cock to slap against his tense stomach. he spits in his palm before wrapping his hand around the base of his shaft, giving it a few tentative strokes and watching the way his stomach spasms. 

“i don’t think i said this before,” you purr, “but you have a really nice cock heeseung.”

your admittance has heeseung overheating, his cheeks and chest flushing a pretty shade of pink. his stomach twists and churns and he slowly starts to jerk himself knowing that you’re watching his every move, like a vulture stalking its pretty. to distract himself from his own ministrations heeseung looks at you, his gaze travelling from your hand in your panties to your chest to your face where he finds you staring back at him, causing him to quickly look away out of sheer embarrassment of being caught. 

“what do you think about when you touch yourself?”

you. obviously. 

but he doesn’t say that. 

he just remains quiet, his eyes darting from place to place  but of course, no answer does not satiate your appetite for knowledge, so you push further. 

“do you think about me?”

yes. obviously.

he nods steadily in response before realizing that that simply isn’t a satisfactory response. 

“always.” his voice is small yet unwavering. 

you smile at his admittance, eyes hazy with desire and your cheek squished against your pillow due to your head being turned towards him. breathy moans and pleas tumble past your lips as you finger yourself, your hips rolling into the heel of your palm. slick wet sounds can be heard both from you and from heeseung, whose precum is aiding in his ability to pump his dick at an increasing speed. the burning pit in his stomach slowly grows and grows and he moans aloud, jolting slightly when the outside of your thigh brushes against his own.

as he feels himself approaching the cusp of an orgasm, the familiar sensation looming closer and closer like a moth drawn to a flame, your hand grabs his arm prompting him to stop, your middle and ring fingers wet against where they’re wrapped around his forearm. 

in the next second you’re sitting up, hands grasping the hem of your shirt once again only to fully remove it this time, exposing your back back and tits to him rendering him speechless. you discard your panties as well, leaving you completely bare as you move to straddle heeseung’s tense thighs. all he does is look at you in astonishment, mouth slightly agape. 

without thinking heeseung reaches forward and envelops both of your breasts with his big hands, his palms rubbing against your hardened nipples while his fingers gently dig into the soft flesh. 

“your tits are perfect,” he rasps, hand moving in circular motions to massage your chest.

“really?” your eyes light up at the compliment.

he nods, his adams apple bobbing in his throat as he remains enamoured with your figure. your fingers tickle his sides before grasping at his shirt, tugging at it in a way that tells him you want it off; he sits up and removes the garment before you place a palm on his chest and push him back onto your mattress, the springs making a slight squeak at the force. your eyes rake over heeseung’s bare chest as he lays before you, a shaky exhale leaving him every few seconds or so.

“you’re so handsome lee heeseung.” you compliment. 

“even when i’m hungover?” 

“even when you’re hungover.”

you crawl over his body, just a little bit, so your hips are unbearably close to his aching cock, the tip an enraged red spilling pearly white beads of precum. heeseung tries his best to not shudder when you wrap your hands around his shaft, moving yourself to be perched directly above his dick. you drag his tip through your folds to be a tease, only when the boy beneath you begins to squirm do you line his cock up wit your dripping hole before sinking down on it ever so slowly, gauging heeseungs reaction with scrutiny. he looks quite pretty, with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip tucked between his teeth, his forehead dotted with beads of sweat. once he’s fully inside of you you remain stagnant, hips flush against his own. 

heeseung feels like he’s gone limp, his limbs turned to mush and inoperable. he keeps his eyes tightly shut as he becomes accustomed to the feeling of being inside of you, for he knows if he sees you sitting on top of him he’s going to have heart palpitations. 

only once heeseungs face slowly starts to relax, his eyelids slowly fluttering open, do you begin to move, gyrating your pelvis against his at a leisurely pace. heeseung can’t help but whimper when he feels you grinding on top of him, his cock throbbing and sensitive inside the warmth of your pussy. 

your hands rest on heeseungs chest to help you stabilize yourself, your nails digging into the soft skin covering his pecs and leaving behind deep red marks. heeseungs hands move to grab at your hips and you arch your back in response, teasingly shoving your tits in his face - he takes this as an invitation and pulls you closer to him so he can wrap hips lips around your left nipple, sucking on it while palming the other. 

“oh my-, heeseung,” you moan as heeseung continues to play with your breasts eagerly. in response you increase the pace at which your hips are moving at, grinding against him in a fluid, persistent manner that makes heeseungs vision grow warped fuzzy. once again he feels the slow burn of an orgasm take flight in his stomach, slowly ebbing outwards as you work him towards his climax. 

the moans and groans leaving him come out muffled due to his mouth still being wrapped around your breast, only detaching once the need for oxygen becomes stronger and stronger and his heart beats faster and faster. your fingers feel hot against his skin as you fuck him raw, the sensation of your cunt constricting around his cock feeling so other worldly that heeseung believes that you and your pussy and your body the only things tethering to him reality. 

his name tumbles past your lips in the form of needy whines as your movements slowly become more and more erratic, your eyes rolled back into your skull as you chase your high. all heeseung can do is lie underneath you, his fingers back on your hips while the tantalizing promise of a mind blowing orgasm renders him almost immobile. sweat rolls off of his brows as he pants and groans, hips feebly bucking upwards in an attempt to make him cum faster.

“i’m so close y/n i-” is all he can manage to whimper to let you know that he’s about to finish, about to erupt into a thousand hot white stars. you moan an ‘i know’ in response before reaching down to play with your clit, your cunt tightening around heeseungs cock with each and every flick of your fingers. 

you orgasm with a desperate whine, brows furrowed and eyes shut as you keel over heeseung. your pussy flutters around his cock and you manage to pull yourself off of him right before he cums with a cry of your name, spilling his hot sticky seed all over the expanse of his stomach, which twitches and spasms every so often. 

the two of you lay side by side as you wait for your heart rates to lower, for your breathing to steady, for the aching in your lower abdomen to cease. there’s a slight ringing in heeseungs ears which slowly subsides overtime, allowing him to listen to the way your pants morph into heavy breathing. in his peripherals he can see your chest, see the way your eyes are heavy with pleasure. you move your hand just enough so that your knuckles trace across the back of heeseungs hand. 

the room comes to a standstill, with the sun peeking through the slats in your shades falling across his tainted stomach that rises and falls with each erratic inhale and exhale he takes. you shift to lie on your side so you’re facing heeseung, allowing your fingertips to dance over his clavicle, his neck, his jawline. 

bliss. 

euphoria.

a happy ending.

a/n: and to think some of y'all didn't believe that i was gonna give you a happy ending.......... what do you have to say for yourselves now huh? HUH??????? here's you're happy ending i'm gonna go cry now bc i'm weirdly emotionally attached to this series.

patience is a virtue taglist: @hello-stranger24 @jainandan @yohanabanana @iamliacamila @nyanggk @chansmaze @beomgyusonlywife

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#28: The Big Reveal (1.04)

gif cred: @nat111love

The second TOWL was announced in 2022 my first thought was - I’m so excited to see Rick and Michonne together again 🤩. And my immediate second thought was - we’re finally going to see Michonne tell Rick about RJ. 🥹

Rick learning that he and Michonne had a baby just like he wanted on their last day together was atop my list of most anticipated moments in TOWL. And I couldn’t have been more glad that Danai was in charge of the episode where the highly anticipated RJ reveal occurs. The big reveal happened in a way that completely shocked me but it was extremely well done 👏🏽...

What I so respect about Danai writing this episode is that she made it clear they aren’t doing mawkish surface-level trauma. TOWL proposed Rick had chosen to die while still being alive, which would do some serious damage to his psyche. And Michonne has also gone through the fire these last seven or so years. So this episode was unafraid to really go there and explore what raw, authentic, heartbreaking trauma looks like no matter how painful it is to watch. 

It wasn’t until TOWL episode 3 that I realized the odds are very high that the big RJ reveal is going to come in the midst of Richonne conflict. Beforehand, I had pictured 1000 scenarios of how Michonne would tell Rick about RJ and in my head it was always going to be revealed in a moment where they’re in a good space because I’m so used to them rarely having internal conflict between them.

I believe Danai said one thing that might surprise viewers with TOWL is the Richonne conflict. And I remember hearing that and being like 'bring on the conflict' cuz it’ll be interesting to explore and I had the utmost confidence that Richonne would come out on top of any conflict. My one thing going into it was just as long as neither of them hit below the belt.

(and tbh I wasn’t worried that Michonne was going to say anything below the belt…but that Sergeant Major Grimes on the other hand. He had me a little worried lol. Before this episode aired, I said the one thing that would be most below the belt to me is if Rick at all suggests Michonne made a bad choice for coming to look for him, which…

So after that steamy eye contact moment with the PRB, Michonne walks over to the bookshelf and I love the way she can take control with just her presence alone. Like her just walking around examining what books this place has had me feeling like 'Rick, you’re in danger friend' because Michonne has something cooking right now. Idk what, but I knew she was getting ready to let it all out with how calm and composed she was being. 😅

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Again, you’d never guess that just moments before she had yanked the two of them out of a helicopter. And this calmness in itself sorta adds to her crazy lol.

Michonne spots the Beverly Cleary children's book 'Ramona the Pest' and smiles as she says, “This was one of my favs growing up. This little girl listening to her own rhythm, free-spirited, just like Judith.”

I love how she’s thinking about her daughter and knows her daughter will like the same book as her cuz that’s her mini-me, both following their own rhythm. Also, I just love how the Grimes family are readers. 🥰📚

gif cred: @nerd4music

Rick looks at her, quietly listening, and I feel like the man is still sorta reeling from everything that's going on. But also it has to hit him hearing a bit more about his daughter and who she’s become right now.

Plus, this made me think about how one of the last things Rick did with Judith was read her a book. 🥲

I also love that Rick gets to see Michonne’s love for Judith in this moment. Like you can tell Michonne never goes a day without thinking about her kids and she wants to be able to talk about them.

There’s also something a little hilarious about this to me, because Rick literally just tried to end things between them not too long ago, and Michonne’s casual energy now is really like...

She knows he didn’t mean that breakup mess. 👌🏽

So Michonne continues, “I loved her so much I thought I was meant to be a writer for a while there. Judith’s gonna love this” Spoken like a mother. 🥰 And I love how Michonne’s face always lights up when reflecting on her kids.

Then we get more insight into Michonne's life from before which I’m always here for when she says, “I thought I was a computer scientist myself once too. Then art history. Then creative writing again. Then I dropped out.” First off, yes versatile queen. 👏🏽😋 Second; I love knowing she studied creative writing. She’s just like me for real. 😊

I also always wonder if perhaps the dropping out might've been impacted by/coincided with the passing of her mother, just cuz I remember she mentioned Joycelyn being there for her when she lost her mom and it seems like Joycelyn was mostly around during college. Idk. 🤷🏽‍♀️

But Michonne styduing art history also makes perfect sense considering TWD hinted at her penchant for art a few different times.

Then Michonne reveals she really was going somewhere with all that college majors talk when she turns to Rick and says, “You’ve become a bit of a creative writer these days.” And then she stares him down in a way that makes it clear Rick is all the way in the dog house.

gif cred: @figmentof

This is another reason I so badly wanted Rick to have kept all the letters he wrote her because he actually was writing her some pretty beautiful poetic stuff in those. But it makes sense that Michonne would be upset over one of the only notes she got to see in the getaway boat.

gif cred: @figmentof

I’m glad Michonne now gets to address exactly how she felt about that whole getaway ploy Rick tried to pull after she hadn't verbally addressed it in ep 3. It’s her turn to talk and I’m here for it. 👌🏽

She says, “That note in the getaway boat?…Poetry.” And the delivery of that line is just classic. I love it. Like so many moments in episode 4, this line and delivery was stuck in my head for awhile. 😋

gif cred: @figmentof

And the way Rick is looking at her after she says that.🤭 Issa husband. A husband who knows he's in hot water too lol.

Another reason I love this ep so much is because they are so completely married. Like this really is scenes from a marriage and I love this exploration of Richonne specifically as husband and wife, even in a fight.

I know Rick was truly being sincere with the note on the getaway boat but still, that was not a move he should have ever thought was going to sit right with Michonne ‘I Don’t Leave People Behind’ Grimes.

It’s interesting that Michonne hones in on the writing aspect of Rick's getaway ploy. I feel like it’s because she’s thinking - did he really think that if he wrote something nice enough I could just leave him here knowing good and well he's alive and needs my help? No amount of poetic words would convince her to just leave Rick trapped here. She knows he knows better than that.

gif cred: @figmentof

Then, it's definitely giving married when Michonne grabs a journal and pen and says, “Oh here. Why don’t you give another masterpiece for your children?”

Now y’all, my jaw dropped when I realized we’re doing this right now. 😦

Like I thought I was gonna see the RJ reveal coming but in a great turn of events Michonne just gets right into it, talking as if Rick already knew he has multiple living children.

gif cred: @figmentof

This is of course news to him and the second she says 'children,' Rick looks like that’s the only word now ringing through his brain.

gif cred: @figmentof

I feel like he’s quickly putting it together since he could already sense that Michonne had something big to tell him about their immediate family in ep 2. 

gif cred: @figmentof

Michonne goes onto say, “Because I’m not going to be the one to tell them that I found their father and he sent me away and chose not to come home to them.”

I’m glad she said that because that was my thought last episode too. Like what was she supposed to tell the kids after finding out their dad is alive but won’t be coming home to them ever? 

gif cred: @figmentof

Rick proves that there really is one word going through his mind right now as he asks, “Children?”

gif cred: @figmentof

And then Michonne uncrosses her arms, sucks her teeth, and walks past him seemingly realizing this isn’t the way she wanted to do this reveal. But at this point, she couldn’t really put it off any longer with the way Rick stayed trying to get her to leave before she even gets the chance to tell him.

gif cred: @likeafantasy

Rick turns to her and says, “You said 'children.'” And I know he’s very eager and anxious to know what that’s about because he hasn’t heard he has more than one living child in over 8 years. 

gif cred: @likeafantasy

Michonne sighs and then she turns to look at her children’s father. And as she prepares to tell Rick this big news, I love how 'Mother Nature' wanted to get involved with a thunderous drum roll before she says it. Both real-life Mother Nature and fictional Mother Nature are Richonners. They know when Richonne is about to have a milestone and they want to be a part of it, what can I say. 😋

So after the thunder drumroll, Michonne finally tells Rick about RJ by saying, “His name is Rick.” 🥲

I love that that’s the way she says it. 😭 It immediately tells Rick that this boy is theirs and he’s his namesake.

And then they cut to Rick who quickly looks down taking in this shocking news as Michonne says, “We call him RJ.”

Seeing a shot of Rick while hearing Michonne say 'RJ' just felt surreal. We finally arrived at this point of Rick learning about RJ after wanting to see this for 6 years. 🙌🏽🥹

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick silently reacts and then looks up at Michonne when she tells him, “I was pregnant when the bridge happened.” I loved hearing that.😭 She finally got to tell the one person she most wanted to tell that she was pregnant.

And the one who got her pregnant is definitely letting this big news sink in as he remains quiet and appears to both have a million thoughts racing through his head while also feeling like time is standing still from this huge news.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then Michonne makes me want to cry when she emotionally says, “He’s…he’s almost 8.” 🥺

In this moment I just see the mom who loves and misses her son so much and is pained to think about how she’s missed a year of his life and how Rick has missed all 7 years of his life.

I feel like the way she says this, it's clear that she feels for her and Rick that they’re not with RJ right now and she feels for her baby boy who she knows misses her too.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then she looks at Rick awaiting his initial response to this lifechanging news.

There have always been two parts of the anticipation regarding the RJ reveal - How would Michonne tell him & how would Rick react. And well now we saw how Michonne told him about their son so it was time to see how Rick would respond. 😬

First, Rick responds by taking this breath which, again, breathing very much tells the story in this episode and has its own little arc. His breath here feels like this is, as I suspected, overwhelming for him on all fronts.

Like you can just see how bittersweet and more prominently how overwhelming/stressful this is to Rick. He already feels like a failure for losing the face of his first son and it’s almost like learning of his second son means the risk of another family member to let down and lose.

And he also now knows he wasn't able to be there for Michonne while she had their baby and that he's not just missed out on years of raising his daughter but his son too. It's a lot. 😓

gif cred: @nat111love

On top of that, learning of RJ means there's instantly another person now added to who Rick longs to protect. So after looking down seemingly struggling to compute all this, Rick looks up and shocks me completely when he just reaches out his hand and says, “You need to give me the PRB.”

gif cred: @nat111love

Y’all...🙃. When I tell you I yelled "What?!" at the exact same time Michonne did. Truly...

gif cred: @nat111love

Of all the ways I pictured Rick first responding to the RJ news I never once had Rick having no verbal acknowledgment of his son on my bingo card. This was wild and admittedly had me wanting to fight despite being able to empathize with why Rick might be responding like this. 

Michonne says, “What? I just told you you have a son. I don’t know who you are anymore!”  And girl, me neither. Like I’m so sorry I hope I don’t sound ridiculous but I don’t know who this man is.

It made me sad that this was his response cuz you only get one time to learn you have a baby and his first verbal response is still about needing the PRB so he can call the CRM and try to get Michonne home without him. Again...

Rick says, “I’m trying to keep you and them alive. You need to give it to me.” And one; I do like how quickly RJ becomes a part of who he’s trying to protect. At the same time I was like - Rick, you didn’t even know your son was included in this ‘them’ until seconds ago, don’t you want to address that a lot more??? (And he does, but he can't let himself go there just yet).

Two; you know this is not our Rick when he’s telling Michonne ‘you need to give it to me’ like Rick is more of the ‘I’m giving it to them, are you gonna let me?’ type and rarely ever just tells Michonne what she needs to do. But again he’s so convinced that this PRB is part of the solution to protecting his family that he’s become one-track-minded. He wants what’s best for his family and he thinks this is how to do it but it’s blinding him to how very hurtful he’s being to his wife right now. 

Rick saying he needs the PRB is his way of showing he's more convinced than ever that sending Michonne home and him staying behind is the way it has to be. We know from his note in the getaway boat that he already felt Judith needed her mom even if she never gets to have her dad in her life, and now knowing they have a little boy out there - Rick seems to be immediately deciding that their son needs their mom even if he never has his dad in his life as well.

So Rick is determined to do anything to get Michonne back to their kids. Immediately believing the three of them need each other in their lives more than they need him, and that his role must be to protect them from afar.

He's not yet able to acknowledge the absolute joy of having a son with the love of his life or be curious about what his little boy might be like and look like. After already losing the image of one son, to begin to imagine the image of another son - knowing how quickly it can all be taken away, knowing that even the images of the ones you love most can fade, is too raw of a pain.

And I also think that the good parts of the news that he has a son, are parts Rick doesn't even feel he deserves to enjoy since he feels he died a 'failure' at getting home to his girls and now his son too. 🥺

So instead keeping his family alive is the only thing Rick can let himself think about. And he's terrified that he could be the reason his wife, son, and daughter's lives are in jeopardy, hence him having a response rooted so deeply in fear.

As the conflict continues, Michonne wants to address more of Rick's audacity from episode 3 when she frustratedly says, “What did you say? ‘Everything we have is broken’? After saying that we were going to get away.” One; I like how she says 'what did you say?' and then proceeds to give a direct quote of what he said. Richonne stays remembering each other's every word. 😋

And also two; I love that she addresses this because this is how much whiplash this man is causing her. Rick went from promising her multiple times that they’d get away together to saying everything they had is broken. Crazy work. 

Michonne points at him and passionately says, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, Rick” and I love that she says that too because while Rick is the one man Michonne will defer to when necessary, she’s also never one to play with and so she’s like look these Crazy-Offs and reindeer games need to stop immediately. Especially cuz Rick was fast approaching his final strike imo.

Rick says, “You have no idea who we’re dealing with. You need to give it to me!” After experiencing several thwarted escape attempts it’s clear Rick is pretty convinced that escaping is impossible.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

Honestly, I’m very here for this whole yelling Richonne moment. 👌🏽We haven’t really seen them like this before but even in this heated moment, it’s clear this fight is between two people who passionately love each other. And the acting is A1. 👏🏽🔥

Also, this is another way we know Rick and Michonne's relationship is special and different, because Lori stayed wanting Rick to fight back with her but he wouldn't. But with Michonne, what they have is worth the fight and the fighting to him. 

I love when Michonne claps and says, “Raising our kids. Believing you were alive and you were…with them!”

One; just hearing her say ‘our kids’ is great. Mom and dad for real. 🥰And I love that she gets to express how she feels in all the fullness of her emotion. It’s such a welcomed thing to see. 🙌🏽 This also shows how comfortable she is with Rick to be this vulnerably expressive. I always love the little hand movements she does too. She’s just cool in everything she does to me. 😋

And Danai also has a great yelling voice too. It’s rare to hear Michonne yell but I was here for it, even tho I of course don’t relish seeing Michonne upset and hurting. 

That ‘with them!’ part always hits me. Because underneath the anger I hear the hurt. This hurt over the fact that for years she was raising their kids, holding onto her belief in Rick and meanwhile the CRM got to have him when she would have given anything for Rick to be with her and their family. Yet another reason she and I hate the CRM. 

And when Rick hears this, he then breaks my entire heart when he earnestly says, “You think I didn’t want to be with you? I tri- I tried everything!” 😭💔 Andy killed that delivery. 👏🏽 The high-pitched breathiness of it - the sincerity is palpable.

And I love that he says “be with you.” He tried everything he could in the hopes of being with Michonne. When he says 'I tried everything,' I genuinely felt the weight of everything he’s tried and the toll it’s taken on him.

In this fight, Rick and Michonne both get some insight into how the other has spent the last eight years. Michonne has spent it raising their kids and believing he was alive. Rick has spent it wanting to be with Michonne and trying everything to get home to her and their family.

And then Michonne’s teary-eyed response after Rick says he tried everything. 😢 This episode did such a good job of conveying Richonne’s love - including the pain they feel over being without each other's love for so long.

Like they both have spent almost eight years longing to be with each other, starved of the love only the other can give them, living with a soulmate-sized hole in their heart. And now here they are - in the same building but not yet on the same page. 😔

They just have to talk some things through to fully find their center with each other again. (Well talk things through and make love some things through. 😌)

Rick says, “We need to go back.” And then because this stellar episode has a bit of everything we get some comedy as the thermostat says, “Your preferred temperature will be reached in one minute” and then Rick takes out all his frustration on the system as he yells, “Where is that thing!?” like he’s ready to box a temperature controller lol.

gif cred: @figmentof

And the way Michonne looks at him like she’s thinking this country boy is doing the most. 😂 I like how Rick knows he can’t be that on ten with Michonne so he only raises his voice to this level with the thermostat.

The temp controller really was a clever device to use within the episode and the temperature really will rise as Richonne dives further into this fight. 

I was very curious how the rest of this episode would play out now that Rick officially knows what we've longed for him to know which is that he and Michonne have a son together. And Danai continues to craft a fascinating exploration of Richonne as this conflict continues. 🥺👌🏽

[gavvaiins]

lonely

summary: having to carry the future of multiple universes on his shoulders miguel simply is tired, tired and lonely.

pairing: miguel o'hara x gn!reader warnings: angst, pinch of fluff, less actions, more vibes; story's gender neutral but i feel it might be too female-coded? idk ; - ; word count: 3.7k

a/n: yeah ... this is longer than it needs to be. Might got confused by grammar later ... idk while writing i fell into a narrating-style crisis? It definetly doesn't help when the book you're reading is written is a different tense.

Sometimes all Miguel wished for was some time alone. In a building full of arachno-humanoids, constantly surrounded by either living people, holograms or other species there was sometimes not enough room to breathe. So, nothing reprehensible about wanting some time for himself.

However, Miguel wasn’t longing to be alone.

He didn’t need to.

He already was.

Despite being surrounded by dozens of spider-beings he was alone. He had no friends. Jess was a colleague, Peter Parker was a dear colleague, the best – and what was even Peter B. Parker? Honestly, Miguel didn’t know, but despite all these different Spider-People there was no one waiting for him. Not even in Nueva York, a city with far more citizens than anyone could count.

No one was waiting for him to come home – or to simply arrive, anywhere.

Lyla was nothing but an AI generated hologram, he created.

There was no one waiting for him.

And that was good. No one waiting for him meant safety; for him and for him. Without anyone there waiting for him to return home he could neither hurt nor lose someone. Miguel noticed that it wasn’t loneliness he was longing for, after all he was pretty much alone in his world, carrying the burden all by himself. Having time to breathe, to think that was what he was longing for. A moment without Lyla and the other arachno-humanoids, without having to think about anomalies and the downfall of universes.

All he wanted was peace.

“Miguel?” His body grew tense as your voice emerged from the dark, careful and soft, almost fearful as if you were entering a cave, unsure of what you’d meet in there. There was a chance that you hadn't spotted him yet, sitting on his lowered platform all by himself. Within moments he heard your voice he began holding his breath. If he didn’t make a sound, you wouldn’t catch him, which was a dumb and childish thought considering the lighting of the running monitors, which illuminated his big frame quite perfectly.

What were you even doing here? There was no need for you talking to him.

“Miguel?” You asked. He could sense the hesitation in your voice, it reminded him of the heroes in fairy tales, both brave and stupid enough to enter the dark woods full of beastly and hungry creatures. When Miguel thought about it, his room was a bit like a forest – or more a cave, dark and mysterious. To his surprise the light tremor in your voice didn’t stop you from further exploring the room. If this was truly a fairytale, you’d either be very brave or stupid, or both. Whatever it was Miguel would’ve eaten you alive.

But this wasn’t a fairytale, and he wasn’t the big, bad wolf, ready and hungry enough to devour you. But why didn’t you stop?

Why were you still going?

He was the Spider-Man who hoped not to be found by anyone, especially not you.

With every passing second Miguel’s body grew more, and more tense, his lungs felt strained, knowing very well that with every step you took, you were closer to seeing him. He knew that it would’ve been smarter to swing away, to simply vanish in the dark. But he couldn’t move. Something in him didn’t want to flee, despite his longing for peace and serenity. He was like a spider trapped in its own web, paralyzed by his own poison.

Maybe he longed for you to find him.

“Miguel.” Your voice was nothing but a whisper, not entirely fearful but caring as well. Yet, Miguel kept using the tactics of a child. Stoic and stiff did he keep his posture, eyes on the ground, head buried in his arms; if he couldn’t see you, you couldn’t see him either. Rather he avoided your eyes, your whole presence like the plague.

How did he, Spider-Man 2099, guardian of the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse and destroyer of a whole universe, look like? A mountain of a man hunched on his sunken platform, hiding his face like a fearful child, who didn’t know where to put its overwhelming feelings. He used to be an authority, always standing high on his platform, towering over and looking down on you. But now it was you who looked down on him, a pile of misery in blue and red barely illuminated by flickering screens.

“Oh, Miguel.” He could sense your presence beside him, he could sense everything of you – your pity and empathy was almost sickening. Your body was awfully close but kept a minimal distance of respect, and to his own surprise Miguel felt his tense muscles relax.

Finally, he found himself able to breathe again.

For a moment you said nothing, no Miguel, no how are you. No words left his lips either. You two sat in silence and Miguel enjoyed it, a little – sitting with you in the dark, just the two of you and he hated to admit it, but he began missing his name rolling off your tongue. His name sounded so soft and caring, like he meant something, like he was someone others cared for.

Someone you cared for.

And something inside of him longed hearing you say his name, again, and again.

To his own surprise he needed it, and he surprised himself by how desperately he needed to hear his name coming from you.

“Miguel?” Ah, there it was. Finally. It was embarrassing admit how Miguel’s heart enjoyed it deeply, hearing his name rolling of your tongue. It felt like warm milk mixed with honey running down his throat, filling his body with warmth and a feeling of serenity, of home. Despite his inner positive response to your presence he didn’t move, nor did he speak. “What happened?”

“Nothing.”

Feeling your knee nudge his thigh, his body grew tense again. The touch was subtle, yet it alarmed all his senses, as if your touch could hurt him. Couldn’t you just continue gently serenading his name, like a sweet lullaby he could relax and fall asleep to? Miguel didn’t need to talk with you about his feelings. He didn’t want to.

“Doesn’t – “

“Leave me alone,” he grumbled, words swallowed by the void underneath his arms.

“– look like nothing,” you said. No answer, and for a moment you grew quiet. He had no idea what you were doing but he could hear you shifting in your seat beside him. Were you finally leaving?

No.

He wanted you to leave, didn’t he? Yes … that’s what he wanted.

But you weren’t leaving, he knew it when he felt your gentle touch on his shoulder. His muscles jumped slightly under your touch as if your fingers were ice cold or burning hot. They weren’t. Your touch was light, careful, like a butterfly dancing on his skin. First came your fingers, gracing his scapula as if you were testing the waters, then rested your palm on his shoulder and despite the highly advanced suit he was wearing, it felt like his skin was burning – a malfunction, an electric shock.

His heart jumped.

It was too much.

“I said, leave me alone!” Forceful, almost feral, he slapped your hand away. Risen to his full dominating size Miguel was panting heavily, fangs bared, talons shown and eyes gleaming of anger … and hurt, and loneliness, confusion. He looked like a beast, tall and furious, ready to strike or devour you.

“Miguel.” He tried not to flinch. He hated the sound of your voice; it didn’t feel soothing anymore. Instead, it was laced with fear, but mostly hurt. But what was he expecting? Miguel had scared you; he had hurt you.

Good.

Lyla would scold him for being an ass. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he needed to, and if that’s what’s needed to leave him be, he’d endure it … and he would do it again, if he needed to. Despite his body telling him differently, he neither needed you nor your pity.

His initial thought was that his plan was working. The big, bad Spider-Man was indeed an asshole, who made you cry for no reason. Never would you talk or even look at him again, which he told himself was fine. But you weren’t crying. Sure, you were holding your arm protectively close to your body as if his talons had teared through your suit, making you bleed. But no sign of tears rimming your eyes, plus, you weren’t leaving.

You were still here.

“What the fuck?”

Why wasn’t it working? “I told you to leave me.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you still there?” With satisfaction he watched you thinking of a good response, gears turning in your head, to no avail. Your mouth opened slightly before pressing it shut, eyes lowering to your hands folded in your lap. That was it; without anything to retort you surely would leave him.

Again, the two of you sat in complete silence. One he didn’t enjoy, but need, and surely neither did you. However, he was sure that you’d given up, any second, and leave him alone. “Is that really what you want?”

He looked at you, blinking.

“Is it really what you want?” You repeated, staring into his dark eyes and there is something in yours that scared him. Miguel couldn’t tell what it was, there was no poison in your eyes, no malice, yet he was afraid. “Do you really wish to be alone?”

You scared him, and that’s nothing anyone would ever associate with you. He hated to admit it, but he was, not of your physical strength or arachno-powers. Surely, he could easily knock you out. Rather he was afraid that you’d find something you weren’t supposed to see.

Miguel hesitated. “Yes.”

“I have to.” It just slipped out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to speak his mind, even if it was just a bit. You weren’t supposed to know. But now you knew something that was meant to stay hidden, that was meant only for himself. A burden he had meant to carry himself. There was no reason to hide, yet there was no reason to face you either, so Miguel did what he could best, being alone. With a heavy sigh he crept back into the shell he so shamefully had lost. This time Miguel didn’t burry himself beneath his arms, instead he stared in the darkness of his office, waiting for you to leave. By that time, he should’ve known that you wouldn’t leave him.

Not like that.

“Oh, Miguel.” Again, his name was nothing but a soft whisper, comforting. There lied some sadness behind his name, yet it was all he had wished for moments ago, before he lashed out at you. “You are not alone. We’re all Spider-Man.”

Some incomprehensible grumble left his lips, how should he explain? It wasn’t your fight, neither was it Peter Parker’s, only his. “It was me.”

“I’ve done this,” he said before you could even think of calling him again.

“I –“ Miguel’s breath hitched and for a second his heart stopped beating, stumbling over its own rhythm as he felt your fingers dancing on his skin again.

How dare you?

He wanted to bare his teeth at you, again, he wanted to scare you, to push you away from him, but he couldn’t. His mind told him to, like he used to do whit so many people before. You knew too much about him. But his heart, his body, craved for the softness of your voice, longed for the warmth of your heart. Carefully your fingers grazed his skin, almost waiting for some sign of permission until they could finally rest on his cheeks. Despite wearing your spider-suit your hand felt surprisingly soft on his skin.

With a sigh he leaned into the comfort of your touch, until he remembered who he was and what he did. His head shot up like your hand was hurting him but before he could utter any more words of misery you placed both of your hands on his cheeks, gently forcing him to look at you.

“You’ve done what? Jumping through the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse.” Your voice was calm and gentle, as was your smile. He could barely look at you. “That is quite a complicated name, maybe you should think about calling it spider-verse instead.”

Miguel meant to smile at your joke, even if only subtle, a ghost of a smile only you’d be able to detect and in any other situation he would. But he couldn’t. Not now, when he’d say something so gruesome that would paint him in a different light. However, the truth didn’t want to roll over his tongue, revealing who he really was, not when you so gently smiled at him, caressing his skin with your fingers. Heaving a sigh, he let go, and melted into your touch like warm butter. Was it good to let his guard down? Probably not. Neither was it professional to lean into your touch, almost gracing your clothed wrist with his lips. It wasn’t good but it felt good, the softness of your touch, the warmth seeking through your spider-gloves. If you’d allow it, he will fall asleep right here in your arms.

It was impossible for him to resist.

If only Lyla could see him now … big, bad wolf turned into a puppy.

However, he was left dumbfounded when he found himself stripped of your touch, even more so, when he found himself disliking the sudden coldness. Wanting to know what went wrong Miguel starred at you but nothing seemed to have changed. You still looked at him with the same fondness and empathy in your eyes, the only difference was that you’re patting your lap. His eyes followed your directions, and he grew hesitant.

“May I?” It should’ve been Miguel asking and not you. Though, resting on your thighs was a nice, almost heavenly thought but he shouldn’t enjoy your comfort too much. “Miguel, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s okay.” He declined.

“C’mon Miguel, it’s comfortable I promise,” you smiled, but he didn’t move. Surely it must be more comfortable than hanging in your hands, but Miguel couldn’t let himself fall on your lap. Already he was enjoying the tenderness of your fingers too much, what would happen if he rested on your thighs? Would he melt into them like he did with your hands? The though was nice but he resisted, not for long though. Tugging, basically dragging him by his arms, you somehow managed to pull his heavy body down on your lap. Carefully he shifted his weight, so only his head and upper body were lying on you. He didn’t want to crush you. However, the feeling that spread through his body as he rested on your thighs was both nice, comfortable and weird. Overall, it was a weird sensation and he’d found himself in a situation he’d never dreamed about before.

“May I?” Miguel had no idea what you were up to, yet he agreed with a hum. His eyes fell close and he hummed again, when he felt your fingers carefully dancing over his body, moving from his shoulder to his hair. It wasn’t the same when you held him in your hands, fingers holding him and caressing his cheeks. It felt different but good, relaxing your hands running through his hair, gently scratching his scalp. And sometimes he could feel the ghost of your fingertips brushing over his face.

He didn’t know how long you stayed in this position, sitting in silence, him resting on your lap and you caressing him like a pet. Miguel couldn’t remember the last time somebody did this for him or when his muscles felt so relaxed. Again, if you’d allow it, he’ll fall asleep right here by your side. But then he remembered what you asked him a long time ago.

“I killed them.” Miguel’s voice was surprisingly calm, even to him. Neither knowing what he meant nor how to answer this, you remained silent. But he could feel your eyes on him. He wasn’t sure if he liked it … not after confessing murder. Yet, he explained, “I killed them all, billions of people, my – his daughter Gabriella, all because I was selfish. – Gabby died because I was foolish to believe that my actions wouldn’t have any consequences.”

His confession shocked you; he could hear it in the change of your breathing and the stillness of your hands, and something in him died. Shocked by his confession you surely would leave. Push him off you like something disgusting. Maybe you would never talk to him again, unless it was necessary, and the thought scared him. His mind had told him to push you away. It was best to handle it all by himself, it was what he always did. But the stupidity people called the heart had won and now the thought of you leaving scared him.

“Tell me what happened.” Your voice was calm, not scared, not soft, just calm. It wasn’t the reaction Miguel had imagined, especially not when your fingers continued to play with his hair. You weren’t even disgusted by him. What kind of person were you to not leave him? “Tell me what happened.”

And he did. Miguel told you everything. How he took the role of a dead man, living his life and raising his daughter. He made it clear that he thought of his actions as selfish and stupid, because he erased a whole universe and with that Gabriella’s future. Never would he forget the fear in her eyes, how she clung to him, looking for safety, calling for her dad – for him, not knowing her real dad has died – until she disappeared as well.

Telling his nightmare was awful, remembering the horrors of his action never got any less painful. But sharing it with you felt surprisingly relieving. It wasn’t like he was healed from his pain but telling you about it made it a little more bearable. “I’m sorry this happened to you.”

How should he answer? Thank you? Moments ago, Miguel would’ve grumbled at the pitiful – no, empathic, he’d learned that much by now – tone in your voice but now he liked it, just as he enjoyed you calling him by his name. Miguel didn’t know what to say.

“I don’t think you killed them, Miguel,” you said after an eternity, never stopping playing with his brown strands. Careful he shifted his weight to look at you. Even with one eye lazily opened, he decided that he liked looking at you, watching how you react to him. “Then, who did?”

Wringing with the words on your tongue you hesitated. “I don’t know.”

In normal circumstances Miguel would be grim, and scoff at your naïve words, claiming to be the villain of his story. The selfish murderer of Gabriella O’Hara. However, now he felt rather tame and tired. It’s enough for him. So, he only hummed, closing his eye to revel in the fondness of your touch.

“But you can’t know either.” He looked at you again. He had to correct you, he knew, it was obvious, really. But before an answer could roll over his tongue you were quick to intervene. “I know what you’re going to say, Miguel. You’ve seen it and to you it makes sense, but listen – I … how does anything make any sense? Multiple universes, anomalies, canon events … we shouldn’t even be here, Miguel. I shouldn’t, none of us. But here we are.”

There’s a hint of sadness in your tone, faint yet he heard and didn’t like it. Miguel knew you’d meant to comfort him but, in the end, you’d realized, that nothing of this should’ve happened. You should’ve never met the friends you made in the spider society, never should’ve met him and never found him dark, and lonely in his room. Almost instinctively his hand reached out to you, gently cupping your face. Now it was his turn to comfort you, even if it was only for a fleeting moment. Unsure if he should draw small circles with his thumb, like he wanted to, or caress like you used to do, he just held you. “Don’t. – The multiverse is mine to preserve.”

“Oh, Miguel.” A soft, but sad smile graced your lips as you laid your hand over his, unwilling to let him go. “It’s not yours, either.”

“But it was my fault, not yours. Don’t worry about something I’ve done.”

You sighed. “Miguel, you shouldn’t carry this burden alone, we’re all Spider-Man. It’s not your duty alone to save the multiverse, you can’t do this alone. I – I think what I’m saying is, you’re not alone, Miguel. You might think that you’ve to do all by yourself but that’s not the truth, we help you, all of us. We will carry that burden with you, I will.”

Truly it was sweet how caring you were, none of you could – and should – carry the arachno-humanoid poly-multiverse on your shoulders. It was his job to preserve one less universe from being destroyed. It was his shoulders who had to carry the burden of it all, not yours. None of you should ever have to worry about the stability of your universe. But there was something burning in your eyes as you spoke, something Miguel enjoyed watching. So instead of objecting and lecturing you about the truth he heaved a hefty sigh and closed his eyes, making himself comfortable in your lap. It takes some time until you picked up where you left playing with his hair, gently scratching his skin here and there.

It's quiet as you ran your fingers through his hair, he doesn’t even move. You weren’t even sure if he was still breathing. But you swore you heard a hum, a content sound vibrating through his big body. However, when you try to check on him there’s nothing, no sound, no movement, not even a smile. Miguel simply looked like he’s asleep, stoic and grim – just like when he’s awake. It’s a silly though, him always looking serious no matter if he’s asleep or wake, it made you smile. However, in rare moments, when you’re not looking at him, his lips curl into a grin.

[sugarlywhispers]

☆–a.n; @hitoshisbf MOOTIE, I GOTCHUU♡ tho, idk if this is the turn you were looking for with his, but i hope at least satiates a bit of your need ;) also, i haven't written this fast anything LOOOL idk, i'm living for the angsty fics lately♡

☆–warnings; angst, alcohol consumption, a bit of smut in one paragraph lol, and of course swearing, because Shinsou is as bad as Bakugou.

Shinsou Hitoshi is not a man that shows his feelings openly. 

Everybody knows that.

So it isn’t a surprise when he returns to the agency from that hell of a fight, face blank, void of any emotion, eyes looking sleepy and tired like they always do. But there is something. Something about the way he is walking, the way he is breathing, or maybe call it his aura, that makes everyone flinch as he walks from the entrance directly towards the elevator.

From all the eyes he knows and feels looking at him, he strongly feels yours. He knows he shouldn’t close on himself and not seek help when he perfectly knows this is a moment to seek for help. For you.

But he can’t avoid it.

The guilt.

Another partner lost.

Another person died in his care.

More than one.

He is 32 years old and apparently he can’t take care of a sidekick half his age, who is already an adult, but still a baby in this profession. This fucking profession of being a hero. How many have already gone? How many have lost their lives because he wasn’t fast enough, strong enough, or even smart enough? How. Fucking. Many.

Hitoshi sighs when he’s in front of the door to his office, not really knowing how he got there; and when he enters and then turns to close it, he encounters the eyes of Midoriya Izuku who looks at him, worried and pitiful.

“It wasn’t your fault, Hitoshi,” Midoriya’s words feel more like a dagger stuck deep in his guts than the comfort he tries to give.

“How many, Midoriya… How many.”

And with that he closes the door and locks it. He doesn’t wait for his co-worker and friend's response. Hitoshi doesn’t need it. He knows it.

After throwing some of his equipment over the small couch he has in the middle of his office, Shinsou walks directly towards one of his furniture where he hides it. Alcohol. Rum, to be exact. He discovered –after a situation similar to this one– that the only thing that gives him a bit of comfort is the burn of the liquor going down his throat. He hates it, he loathes it completely. But he loves how the painful burning turns off his senses and closes down his gullet as the liquid slides inside his system. His ability to speak turns off, just as his consciousness.

He gulps down glass after glass after glass. He doesn’t care that he’s at work and by all ethics he shouldn’t be doing this here. But he doesn’t fucking care anymore.

He doesn’t care that once again one of his co-workers and two of his sidekicks died right in front of his eyes.

He doesn’t care that even if he got there a tad bit sooner, they could still be alive, he could have saved them.

He doesn’t care that it was his fault, because he got distracted from trying to follow one of those villains and didn’t stay to help his team.

But he does care. It is his fault. Everything.

Glass after glass after glass of rum, and he already feels the rise in temperature and the dizziness in his body. But he doesn’t care. He deserves feeling like this… This helpless and useless, because that’s what he is. A fucking useless piece of shit. Not even good at his own job. What would Aizawa say? Dad would agree with Shinsou. He’s just a fucking nuisance. He has been for everybody since his very first day at UA.

The rumble of knocks on his office’s door makes him groan. He doesn’t move, whomever it is should know already that he’s not going to fucking answer the door.

“Shinsou, it’s me,” your muffled voice sounds and he curses Midoriya’s name. He knows it was him who sent you. He always did whenever Hitoshi traveled down to the most inner dark places of his own mind.

He can’t not open the door to you. You are and will always be the exception to any rule. You come before anything and everyone, even his own misery. But, he had drank so much he realizes now he can't move his legs as he tries to stand up from his chair behind his desk. His arms and legs feel like gum, uncontrollable and useless gum, and he doesn't have the strength to even throw the keys closer to the door so you can grab them from under it and get yourself in. He knows, he had tried it, just now. Unfortunately, he just knocked a decorative vessel that sat at the corner of his own desk. What a shame, you have gifted him that from one of your trip missions.

“Hitoshi, what was that? Please, please, let me in,” your begging voice is something that stir so many emotions inside him.

He likes to hear it when he’s on top of you, buried so deep inside you that you beg for him. More, fast, harder, deeper. He loves it, to drive you that insane that only him can give you what you need.

Now, it sounds so desperate and sad, he hates being the reason too behind that begging.

It doesn’t pass too much time until the door is forced open. He regrets having locked it when he looks up and you’re there, standing with all that worry and fear in your eyes as your chest pushes up and down in puffs of air that you inhale. Oh. You forced it on your own. He feels proud of you. You have grown so much. So strong and so dependable.

He remembers when he met you, a small thing of eighteen years old, filled with dreams and hopes, that had just joined Hero Deku’s agency, where he also worked too. You had also been his sidekick for a while, before everyone –Hitoshi included– recognized your strength and power and by your twenty one years old you already had sidekicks helping you on your missions.

He was so proud and mesmerized by the person and hero you have become, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help to feel things for you.

Your first kiss happened on your twenty-fifth birthday. Izuku had the idea to throw a surprise party after you came back from a mission in Osaka that day. Hitoshi would never forget the shine in your eyes when you entered the conference room, turned on the lights and everyone jumped yelling “happy birthday, Y/N!!” in greeting. You almost cried, and Hitoshi found that cute.

Shinsou was also known for liking his own space, so it didn’t take you long to finally find him at the balcony, alone and smoking his cigarette.

“You know, that thing kills you,” you closed the door of the balcony before walking and standing next to him.

He smiled, a genuine one, before saying, “Our work can kill us, did you know that?”

You rolled your eyes at him, softly pushing him with your shoulder, which made him laugh.

“Thanks for being here, Shinsou-san.”

“Ugh. Drop the honorifics already. Makes me feel old,” this time you laughed, and he took that as a queue to take out the little box he brought for you.

“What is this?” You asked receiving the little box.

“The villain’s teeth of my last fight,” you look up at him, not really amused and he snorts, “It’s your present, dumbass.”

“Couldn’t you just say that?” You protested, clearly exasperated by his jokes, which made him even fall for you more.

Hitoshi takes another drag of his cigarette as you open the box. It’s a necklace, not a very expensive one, with a pendant that has the form of a moon. To others, it might not mean shit, and maybe they would comment on how cheap the present looks. But to both of you, it had a significance. It signified all that time you spent together, patrolling and wandering the streets at night when you were his sidekick, given that both of your Quirks worked better at night.

You’re silent for a bit, and that silence worried him for a second. Then he saw the little droplets of your tears on the railing of the balcony where you are standing close to, and he sighed, throwing the cigarette to the ground and stepping on it to turn it off.

“You’re not supposed to cry, dummy,” his hands grabbed your face and he softly tilted your head back so he could look at your face better.

He saw the tears running down your cheeks, but your eyes looked genuinely happy. Fuck, you're gorgeous, inside out.

“It’s my birthday, I can do whatever I want,” you replied back, your beautiful dove eyes not leaving his.

“That you can.” He said almost in a whisper, his eyes darting down to your lips for a second. And when he looked back at your eyes, he saw the realization in them.

“I… Can I?” He saw your eyes do the same action he did before, and fuck, yes please.

“You can.”

You stood suddenly in your tiptoes and finally connected your lips together. One of his hands slid to the back of your head as the other went down and his arm surrounded your waist, pulling you against him even closer, lips firm against each other.

Shinsou had felt on cloud nine. He still does every time you kiss him. Every time he wakes up and sees you there laying next to him, all cutesy with your sleepy-puffy face and all. Every time you come back to him, even when he told you many times before that he isn't worth it.

He doesn’t deserve you. And you deserve so much better.

“Why did you lock the door?” Your voice sounds angry, but also worried.

Hitoshi looks down again to his desk where he finds the bottle of rum almost finished. Wow. How much time has passed since he got here? The dizziness and the constant burning in his throat doesn’t let him think straight, or do the maths. So he immediately disposed of that thought. He won’t be able to find the answer either way. But he can tell that, by your worried expression, it’s been long. I mean, the almost empty bottle in front of him says much too.

“Shinsou,” you call him again. And by his surname, which means you are angry too.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he asks in a murmur, his voice sounding so rough and deep he barely recognizes it like his own.

He then feels hands, small delicate hands, that hold his face and turn him to the side. They feel so soft, so sweet as the thumbs caress his cheeks that he closes his eyes, feeling that knot in his throat so tight is about to explode and make him bleed til he dies.

Hitoshi takes a faltering breath as he feels your forehead press against his.

“Let’s go home, love,” your gentle voice says and he feels like crying now.

But he nods and lets you help him up.

You’re his home. So he will go anywhere with you.

When Hitoshi wakes up the next day, he feels like a truck ran over him. Bones and all heavy, his head pulsing with pain that makes him want to vomit.

He remembers vaguely what happened. And he remembers you dragging his stupid and sorry-sad ass to the apartment. With Izuku. Midoriya helped you bring him home. How embarrassing.

Hitoshi finds the strength to sit on his bed, after seeing that your side of the bed is empty. That’s weird, but it doesn’t surprise him. It is just time you finally see the scum and worthless ass he is.

He rests his elbows on his knees, holding his head with his hands. It hurts, realizing that he lost you. Hurts more than anything. How fucking hypocrite of him. Yesterday, he was moping about the death of his team members, swearing that what he felt was pain. Nothing compares to what he’s feeling now.

The tears slide through his face before he has a chance to stop them.

He never deserved you. He doesn’t even deserve to be called a Hero.

He feels like a fucking loser.

“Hitoshi?”

Your voice makes him look up instantly. And in two long strides you’re kneeling on the floor in front of him, arms around his neck.

He immediately returns the hug. And cries. Like a fucking child.

But this is you, he can do this with you. He can be vulnerable with you.

“You stayed.” He cries, feeling like a wounded animal that needs help.

But somehow, he is. Wounded. In pain. And you’re his savior, what he needs to heal.

“I’m always going to be here, love. I choose you, and I will always do.”

The fingers of one of your hands slides in his hair as his whole body shakes in his cries.

“You have to stop doing this. Nothing that happened was your fault, and if you don’t believe yourself, believe me.” You back away from him just a bit so you can look into his eyes. “Believe me when I say that it was not your fault. And believe me when I say that it’s time you stop this behavior.” He knows you’re talking about his drinking habit from this past months.

“I choose you, but you have to choose me. Or… I don’t think I’m going to want to stay here to see you lose yourself. It hurts me too much, Hitoshi.”

That gets his attention completely.

No. He can't lose you. He won’t lose you. No. No. No.

You're the one crying now, and he’s the one that pulls you up so you straddle his waist and hold your face very close to his.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I won’t… I’ll be good, I’ll be better for you, I promise.” He chants like a prayer as he kisses every part of your face as he can.

You shake your head, “No. Be good for you, be better for you. Because you deserve it. You deserve to be happy, Hitoshi.”

He doesn’t believe it. Not yet anyway.

But he believes you. He loves you. And if to cherish you how you deserve means he has to believe he’s good, he will.

He will be good for you. And with time, for himself too.

[scekrex]

First of all, love the new profile pic, but I already miss the Adam one. The new one is such a vibe tho.

NEVER MIND THAT. I COME BEARING IDEAS.

I haven't given you an idea in a long time and that is a crime, sacrilegious crime and I must correct my ways 😤

So :) Adam x Male Reader (Obviously 😌) where they are not together yet and Adam loves to tease Reader because he loves to read comic books (Totally not self insert, lmao). One time Adam goes a bit too far tho and takes Reader's comic book from his hands, basically ripping it out of them and accidentally tearing a few pages since comic books tend to be quite fragile if not handled properly. Reader at first is surprised and annoyed with Adam until he hears the rip of the pages, then he simply stares at the taller angel in shock, forcefully taking back the comic and seeing the damage just to break down in tears, because it was his favourite comic book that he was introduced to when he was still alive by someone who was very dear to him (Either a sibling, a bestfriend, parent, Idk) and gets really upset with Adam, refusing to talk to him. At first Adam being Adam obviously wouldn't get why it was such a big idea since it was just a comic book, he could get another one in Heaven with no problems, but it was the action on its own that made the Reader upset.

Basically some hurt/comfort with a fluffy ending? Please with a cherry on top and thank you 🙏❤️

Love you 💋

Here, have a smiley Sebastian Vettel. Everyone needs to see a smiley Sebastian Vettel at least once in their life ✨

Hehehehehehe love that :3 also so sorry it took me so fucking long to write that but apparently writers block crawled up my ass while I was sleeping

Wordless apologies

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language

note: not beta read bc fuck you

The first man grinned down on you, visibly amused by the sight of you - you had your face buried in your favorite comic book, a passion Adam never truly understood even though you tried to explain it to him. But that was okay, the brunette didn’t need to understand why you liked them, it was enough that you liked comics in general - well, enough to tease you about.

“You’re such a fucking nerd, dude,” Adam groaned, he preteneded to be annoyed about your passion when in realitly he was annoyed by the lack of attention he was receiving from your end - it was simply something he wasn’t used to. Usually the attention was his once he entered the room but you were different. If you had your nose buried in one of your silly little picture books - Adam’s words, not yours - your attention was on said book and said book only and not even the first man himself could change that.

You didn’t respond to his words and that annoyed Adam, it annoyed him very fucking much. Enough to simply grab the fragile book and tear it out of your grip, your first response was an annoyed, “Hey!” as you tried to get it back but then the sound of ripping paper filled the living room you and Adam were sitting in and your body tensed up immediately. A shiver ran through you and you felt how your wings fluffed up a little from the sadness and from the anger that slowly bubbled up inside of you. The look in your eyes was empty as you turned towards Adam, eyeing how he held a single page in one of his hands and the entire book in his other hand. Your eyes flicked from the book to the torn out page and back to the book until your eyes eventually met Adam’s. There was no guilt or remorse in them, just amusement as you heard how a chuckle rumbled through his body, “Looks like I have to get ya a new one.”

You grabbed the book forcefully from Adam, possibly breaking it even more but in that moment you did not care. You also took the single page from Adam, viewing the damage up close as tears slowly started to well up in your eyes. This comic book had been given to you by your best friend back when you were still alive and it had been your favorite ever since. Said best friend did not roam Heaven’s mighty streets like you did, you weren’t sure if he was still alive or if he was in Hell - though him being in Hell did not make any sense to you. The comic Adam had just broken was all you had left of him and now even that was destroyed. Sure you could fix it, you could tape the page back in but that didn’t fix the fact that Adam did not feel guilty in the slightest - fuck, he even found it amusing.

When the brunette noticed how quiet you were he looked at you and you heard how he swallowed hard at the sight of tears welling up in your eyes - you couldn’t bring yourself to feel empathy towards him, not after what he did. Sure, to Adam it seemed like a small deal, like a thing that happened and he could fix it by replacing the book. But that wasn’t the case, this was a problem not even Adam could fix that easily.

“Dude,” Adam spoke up again, his words sounding a little softer yet he kept up the playful and unbothered undertone, “It’s a fucking book, I’ll get you a new one.” But you remained silent, refusing to talk to the taller angel after he broke the only physical thing that reminded you of your best friend. The first man seemed rather frustrated at that, you heard him sigh and out of the corner of your eyes you saw how he took off the mask on his head to actually look at you. “Stop acting like a crybaby, man, it’s easy to replace,” he explained yet again, lifting his hand to rest it on your shoulder and give you some comfort but you pulled away before his hand even touched you. That would not fix things, it wouldn’t repair your book.

Brian sighed again, putting the broken comic book down in his lap as he stared at it. “Gimme the damn book,” Adam grumbled, sounding somewhat displeased with something - with that exactly you didn’t know but you did know that Adam would not touch that comic again. “Fuck off,” you mumbled weakly, trying to keep Adam away from it. The taller angel simply caught your wrists, held them in a firm grip and grabbed the comic - including the torn out page - from your lap, “Chill, I’m not gonna tear out more pages.”

You watched with wide eyes as your comic book was taken from you yet again, this time Adam was a little careful with it and while that still did not meet your standards on how he should be handling your favorite comic, it was better than before. The brunette let go of your eyes, held the comic book in both of his hands and let out a quiet sigh, a sigh you didn’t even notice. Angelic magic wrapped around your book and your shocked expression turned into a confused one before you realized what Adam was doing there.

He was fixing it - like actually fixing it.

“Here, you fucking shithead,” Adam grinned as he handed you your comic back, his other hand ruffled your hair softly and while the brunette still did not apoligze, you were willing to ignore that tiny fact and move on. He had fixed the book he broke and while it still felt different, it was something you appreciated very much.

[multi-fandom-simp]

Hello! I'd love to see Garrett from Twilight with a soulmate au! I'd love to see him with a human mate, he'd be such a smitten kitten for her for sure! I'm open to the clock running down and them meeting or the red string and finding each other, or other ideas if you have one in mind.

Please and thank you!!

(A/N: I had such a fun time writing this piece! Soulmate Au's are truly one of my favorites. Thank you for such a lovely request, I hope you enjoy the fic💕)

Forever? Forever.

Pairing: Garrett x Human! Reader

Soulmate! Au (red string)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the twilight characters, nor do I claim them as my own. This work is purely fictional.

Summary: You had always been told your soulmate was dead. That your string was never fully red because they were no longer here. Imagine your surprise when your soulmate does exist..just as a vampire. A vampire that absolutely adores you at that.

‼️TW‼️: mentions of death, mentions of eating a bunny (should that be a warning, idk??)

Word Count: 2,034 (I got a bit carried away)

Everyone was born with a red string, one that connected you to your soulmate. Most people had it wrapped around their finger or their wrist, but not you. Your string sprouted from your wrist as if it grew within your very veins. Not only that, but the further the string got from you, the paler it got, almost as if it was losing color. Everyone had told you that it meant your soulmate was dead, or dying, but something told you otherwise.

Unlike everyone else, your string came with sensations. Not anything weird, just feelings. Feelings of warmth whenever your hands would shake, or a sudden chill whenever you had a fever, almost as if your soulmate was comforting you. Oddly enough these occurrences never bothered you, in fact, they made you feel less alone. 

You weren’t always alone. You had a family, friends, and past lovers, but it was never enough. Despite how great they were, they made you feel suffocated. You wanted more, so you got more. Within a night you had packed a suitcase and moved to Forks, Washington where you worked early shifts at the local diner, and took night classes at the local college. It was nothing fancy, but it made you feel alive. The rush of moving somewhere new, where no one knew your name or your face felt like a breath of fresh air. The feeling of running on a few hours of sleep so that you could fit work, class, and exploration into your day was euphoric…until it wasn’t. 

After a year you had grown bored of the quaint town. Its same blue hue became dull and the rush soon became tiring. The only thing you had left was the woods. Now, as ominous as it sounds, the woods in Forks seemed guarded. Somewhere you constantly felt watched but not in a horrifying, murderous way. The forests become your safe haven for early-morning readings and late-night strolls. 

..and also the place where you first met him.

It had been stormy that morning. The power at the diner had been knocked out and with no backup generator, they let the staff go home. You decided to take a cut through the forest instead of hailing a cab. Was it the best decision? Absolutely not, but you weren’t the only one who had made it. Halfway down your path, you stumbled upon a fellow holding a rabbit. His eyes found you before you found him. His eyes followed your red string back to his own. He was mated to a human, how fascinating. 

His thoughts seem to escape him for a moment as he murmured, “A human.”

“ An odd man” You shot back quickly. His mouth stretches into a grin at your wit. You clearly had some spunk to you, and he liked spunk. 

“This odd man does have a name. I’m Garrett, and you?” Garrett noticed that you had yet to take notice of the tautness of your string, of the connection it bore to him. Little did he know that you had given up on finding your soulmate after years of being told that they were dead. 

Ignoring his question, your eyes flickered down to the rabbit still in his hands, “ Why are you holding a rabbit?” 

“ I’m sheltering it from the rain” That was a lie. Garrett had intended to feed off of the bunny, as he hadn’t had a feeding since he arrived to help the Cullens. However, upon your scrutinizing gaze, he deemed it best to release the poor thing. It’s not as if the small creature would fulfill his diet anyway. 

“Right. Nice meeting you then, Garrett” The name tag on your uniform seemed to gleam at him through the rain as you began to walk away. 

“ I take it everything in town is closed down then?” Your eyes shot to Garrett’s in confusion while he continued, “Unless you normally parade through the forest in waitress attire.” 

“ A few places remain open, such as the hospital. Which is where I’ll end up if I don’t get out of this rain.” Despite the intrigue nagging at the back of your mind, you turned away from Garrett and continued on your way. Missing the way he grinned at your remark. 

“ It was nice meeting you as well!” Garrett called after you before murmuring to himself, “Let’s hope our paths cross again soon.” 

And soon it was. The second time you met Garrett he was sat on the floor of the town’s library. The floor of the romance section to be exact. His hair was dry this time, allowing you to see its naturally curly state. The only odd thing being the clothes he wore. They were the exact same pair you had seen him in days ago, and truthfully they looked like they were from another time. 

“Are you going to stare at me all day or actually speak to me?” Garrett turned his head to look at you. His eyes swept over your comfy attire with a small smile. You looked much more relaxed in your casual clothing than in a wet work uniform. 

“I wasn’t staring” You grumbled, “ I was just surprised to see you in the romance section is all.”

Garrett stood and dusted himself off, “ Meeting me in the forest one time is enough to tell you about my reading preferences? Besides, I wanted to see what keeps the romantics entertained these days” 

“Fair enough” You shrug. Your eyes scan the shelves for a moment before settling on the top row. You reach up for the book you wanted, but it remained just out of your reach. A warmth, like the one you often felt through your string, surrounded you from behind. Turning your head you saw Garrett reaching past you to grab the book with ease. 

He hands it down to you with a smirk, “ I believe this what you wanted, my lady” 

“Thank you” Your voice was quiet as it caught in the back of your throat. You weren’t meek by any means but his eyes had taken you off guard. They were red, not like the auburn shade his hair was, but a blood red. You pulled your eyes from his, trailing them over his pale skin until you reached his hands. A silent gasp left your lips as you noticed that Garret’s thread also sprouted from his wrist and that it was pale blue. You shifted your wrist in curiosity, waiting to see if Garrett’s thread would move. When it did your eyes snapped back up to his. Garrett was looking at you softly, yet intently. 

“Are you..” You couldn’t even bring yourself to say it. 

“-Dead?” Garrett finished. You nodded silently, awaiting an answer. Garrett simply looked down at the novel in your hands. Once you followed his gaze it all clicked. Empire of the Vampire.

“Oh..you’re-..you” None of your words felt right. Were you terrified, or curious? Excited perhaps? 

Garrett hooked a finger beneath your chin, guiding you to look up at him again, “ Does it bother you?” 

The waiting expression in his eyes almost seemed sad, “ No, should it?” 

“ No. Just because I’m a monstrous thing does not mean I would harm you” Garrett reassured, “ I’ve grown far too attached to you to hurt you, my dear human.” 

Heat blossomed within your chest alongside confusion. The challenging look in your eye that Garrett had come to cherish returned quickly, “ You’ve only just met me.” 

“ I’ve known about you for ages. Your heartbeat thrummed through my thread and your feelings flooded my head” As if on cue, the warmth you’ve felt all your life thrummed through the thread and into your veins. It all made sense now. All these years Garrett had been your source of comfort while you had been his taste of humanity. 

You exhaled softly, “Where do we go from here?” 

“Wherever you want. You could forget this ever happened and continue your life as is-” The thought of continuing your boring day-to-day with the knowledge of Garrett in the back of your mind felt criminal. 

You were quick to interrupt, “-I don’t want to forget you. I want us to figure this out together.” 

“ Then, by all means, tell me where to start and I’ll follow”, Garrett spoke. He was closer this time, so close that the tip of his nose almost touched yours. 

You took a deep breath, “Start by telling me everything.” 

And so he did. The two of you sat on the floor of the romance section without a care for time. You leaned against the bookshelf as Garrett told you stories of his life and transformation, only pausing when other people passed by. Eventually, he told you about his thread. How it had started around his wrist but then sunk into the skin when he turned into a vampire. After what seemed like hours, Garrett offered to walk you home, in exchange for stories about your own life. Right before the two of you reached your home, Garrett explained the situation with the Cullens. He didn’t want to potentially die in a vampire battle and leave you completely in the dark. Surprisingly, you took it better than he imagined, though he could still feel your worry through the thread. 

“Don’t worry about me, dear human. I have been in many wars” His hands cradled the sides of your face as he looked down at you, “Now inside you go. It is nearly sunrise and you have yet to sleep.” 

“Where will you be tomorrow?” You inquire with longing brewing in your eyes. Part of you felt like he would vanish with the wind. 

Garrett chuckles softly, “I have to check in with Carlisle, but don’t fret, I shall be here when you wake in the morning”

“I could come with you-”

Garrett shakes his head firmly, “ No, some of the others don’t have control of their bloodlust and I would rather keep you alive and safe.”

“Alright, I suppose I’ll see you in the morning then” You detach yourself from his presence and turn to head inside. Once you reach the door, you turn to wave at him once more. He uncrosses his arms for a brief moment to wave back. You dream of him that night, of what your life could’ve been had you been born in his era. Garrett perched himself on a tree as you slept. Staying close enough to keep track of your heartbeat, but not so close that you felt overwhelmed. 

By the time you woke, Garrett had run to Carlisle’s and back already. The run down for the day didn’t take nearly as much time as he thought. He was back in the tree by the time you left the house for the day. 

“No work uniform today either?” He observed.

“Nope, I have today off” You informed him,” Figured I would visit somewhere for lunch, care to join me?” 

Garrett jumped down from the tree, landing skillfully behind you as you began walking, “ I would never say no to time with you, dear human.”

“You’re cheesy” You fought back the blush that coated your cheeks. 

“I prefer to call myself a hopeless romantic, thank you very much” Garrett snarked, “Speaking of romantics, how about I carry you? We would arrive much faster.” 

You snorted out a laugh, “ No thank you. Not every woman is comfortable being picked up off her feet, Garrett” 

“Your independence is going to be the death of my romanticism, just as the British were to peace” He mumbled. 

You stopped walking to face him, “ Did you just compare me to the British invasion?” 

“ Is this the part where I lie or say sorry?” Garrett teased, walking to you with his hands behind his back.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “ The universe expects me to spend forever with you and yet you’ve already insulted me before our first date. Perhaps it should reconsider.”

“ Perhaps it shouldn’t” Garrett hummed, “Not as if it has any say in the matter anymore. You’re stuck with me forever.” 

Your eyes twinkled at the thought, “ Forever?” 

Garrett leaned down until his nose touched yours again, “ Forever.” 

[kxxkiecxre]

・❥・SHOOT! || JEON JUNGKOOK ・❥・

Pairing: Jungkook x fem!reader.

Series: like a moth to a flame.

Summary: there’s never really a guide book on how to keep two important people in your life happy at the same time. Is there?

Warnings: sad, break ups, disloyalty, cancer diagnosis, idk? Just not a very happy chapter tbh. Stick with me though! Short chapter!

PREVIOUSLY… NEXT…

“I just don’t think the best way to tell her is by throwing her surprise party like she’s finding out the gender of her unborn child.” You sighed, going back to suck on the straw of your empty milkshake.

Jungkook swapped his Oreo milkshake for your empty kinder bueno one. He’s noticed when you’re super stressed or anxious you generally snack away on sugar mindlessly. Not that it’s a bad thing or something, he just finds it endearing.

“Maybe we can just not tell her…” you suggest, gulping down the Oreo milkshake like it’s your mission.

“So she can later bury us alive when she finds out?” He cringes.

Yeji would never. She’s too kind hearted to ever hurt anybody in any type of way and if her emotions do take a toll on her, she’s never the one to not apologise about it if she was in the wrong. Yeji is too smart. Too compassionate and sincere. It’d be silly to think she’d ever dehumanise you for dating her brother.

“Do you think she’ll be disgusted with me for dating her stinky brother?”

“How am I ‘stinky’” he pouts.

“Babe, you leave all your clothes everywhere, whether they’re fresh or not. I keep finding your socks all over my apartment, not to mention you like to just change outfits within seconds. Like I iron your decided outfit and make sure it looks perfect and then you’re all like ‘mmm no, the whites too muted” you rolled your eyes groaning.

His mouth opened in surprise. Doe eyes looking scandalised, “that’s only because you also change your outfit ideas last second! ‘Oh the glitter reflects different in this dress than on my shoes.”

It wasn’t exactly what you had in mind. The fight between Jungkook and Yeji was starting to escalate and you didn’t exactly know how to stop it or help. So you stood in the corner, balling up and trying your hardest not to crumble because you knew. You knew now more than ever. If she doesn’t agree to this, if she finds it weird or odd or whatever. There’s no way you can keep this going. Even if you love him more than yourself. Yeji is your best friend and even if technically you don’t need her blessing to date Jungkook, it’s morally wrong. You’ve sworn to her since childhood that you’d never date her brother.

“Why am I not allowed to be with someone that makes me happy!” Jungkook yelled.

“Because,” she would yell back an octave higher and suddenly it felt like you were a small kid and your parents were arguing all over again “because she is my person. She’s the one I befriended before you. Because she’s the only thing I have aside from you. I can’t let this happen. If you break up and I have to choose sides it’ll be the end for me. I won’t have you, I won’t have her. I won’t have anyone. Jungkook please,” she practically sobbed

“I’ve never said this before because I always hated it, but kook. Please. I have given you everything I had through out our life. I protected you. I loved you. I was there for you when our parents weren’t there for us. I gave you a piece of myself day by day, night by night because you are the only thing I had in life because I love you. I’m younger and I have surrounded my life around you. You were my hero, not dad, not mom, you. You were the man I loved first, ever. You were the man I wrote about in class. The man I imagined had a cape when I was growing up and was my hero,” you stood in the corner, crying silently, head down not able to even glance at yeji.

“Jungkook please.”

It was silent. All the tension, all the life sucking energy was hung in the hair as if it was a hair strand away from breaking into absolute chaos. You’ve realised then, that both of them stared at you. Jungkook had some sort of hope in his eyes, but he looked like he was two seconds away from throwing up too. Yeji was a sobbing mess. And it finally sank in. Nothing would ever go back to anything it ever was before. Ever. Not with yeji, not with Jungkook.

You licked your drying lips and bit onto the lower one, fiddling with the keys in your hands, looking at your feet before you realised it was hopelessly. You’d end up hurting either one of them in the end. The only thing you could do was remove yourself completely. Away from yeji and away from Jungkook. They’re more likely to forgive each other and yeji would definitely find friends. It was a losing fight for you any choice you made and if you knew you could at least give them a shot to fix their relationship, you’d hurt yourself just to keep both of them happy. They’d mend their hurt.

From the beginning this was destined for failure. From the petty fight with Jungkook to the sex to finally falling in love with him. It was all just building up to this. The fights that put a strain on your friendship with yeji, the sneaking around, the dishonesty. There was no going back at this point. You couldn’t fix it anymore. You were being selfish the minute you reciprocated the kiss with Jungkook that very night. It was all just going to go down the drain and you knew it was. That’s the thing. Yet you did because you couldn’t help how amazing it felt. To love Jungkook, to have him with you. Exactly, where it brings you now.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, “I can’t do this.”

You left the apartment in a rush, wiping your tears and hoping this pain would subside. Hoping you’d ever forgive yourself. The way both their faces dropped, the hurt and despair in Jungkooks eyes. Yejis eyes widening and jaw dropping as if someone just stabbed her in the guts. It had you so nausea you were seconds away from throwing up. The second the elevator opened you dashed outside, not so gracefully throwing up beside the door. Not that there’s any graceful way of throwing up.

Walking through the rain had all the memories rushing through you. From the first fight, where you couldn’t even look Jungkook in the eye, to the sex, to the moment you finally felt the love for him, to the fight when you were away to now. It was painful. This walk happened more than you’d ever liked for it to happen. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to choose. You just couldn’t. Because you loved Yeji, from growing up with her and matching outfits to school with little pigtails and matching clips, to starting high school together and walking in with your hands clasped together like two toddlers. To entering college. From heart breaks to success.

But you also loved Jungkook. He was always in the background of whatever you and Yeji did, he was always there to support and lift you when you fell down. He’s always loved you in no way any other man could ever. You knew that. Even when you didn’t pay attention to him. Even when you’d tease and ignore him. He always loved you. He was always there to protect you. It was breaking your heart bit by bit. You knew he was the man you saw a future with. The man you saw buying your first house with and having his kids. He was your universe. Your future. But you couldn’t do this to Yeji.

What is the point of being with him if you’d put a strain between yourself and yeji? If you took away his sister from him. She swore she’d never, ever speak to him again if you did continue dating each other and that was enough to prove to you that you never wanted to hurt any of them the way you knew it would if you decided in the moment that you chose Jungkook. Because even if you fought for both of them, it would have never been the same. At least now, you could still remain at least friendly with both of them without hurting them any further, or more painfully.

You didn’t want to be cruel. And maybe you were by the way you left. But you wouldn’t ever forgive yourself if you sabotaged their relationship for yours. So you decided to screw yourself up.

Sometimes, that just the way life is.

You finally agreed to have coffee with Jungkook. Just a simple coffee and nothing more. Even though it’s been two months, the tension is still high with Yeji. She hasn’t spoken much to Jungkook aside from the odd little conversation. Jungkook would come over plenty of times, to check up on her, and each time he’d come over, she’d be curled up on the couch, with the same dull expression in her face.

“you were the one who screwed this up Jungkook. The second you decided to fuck my best friend.” She’d always remind him.

It was the bitter truth, though. Because he is the reason why Yeji doesn’t smile as often anymore, or isn’t her bubbly self anymore. She always alone, aside from when Jungkook comes to her place and stays with her for a few nights, she has no one else. She always had you and that was enough for her. He’s screwed it up though. Big time. He fell in love with someone who was meant to be off limits. Someone his sister loved even more.

You sit across him with an odd expression. He has always been able to at least guess what you were thinking, today however, he can’t. Your eyes looked stoic. Empty. You showed no form of emotion on your face. You just sat with your legs crossed over the other and your hands mimicked your legs, loosely hanging of the edges. You were dressed smart, white dress pants and a white jacket with gold little buttons, a white button up underneath and white pumps. You were practically like a statue in front of him, a gorgeous one though.

Even in the state that you were, pale, dark circles under your eyes and void of any kind of emotion, you still managed to be the most beautiful woman in the room.

He swallow rather uncomfortably, his Adam’s apple bopping with the action. He looked nervous, his leg kept bouncing and his eyes were were everywhere but you. He’d look at you for a split second and then focus his gaze elsewhere. It wasn’t fun watching struggle like this.

He didn’t look bad. His skin was tanned and glowing, he must of gotten a haircut recently, perhaps an undercut? He was dressed like the usual him, baggy clothes. Comfortable. He still managed to look mesmerising and you were kicking yourself for even thinking like that, for letting your heart skip a beat any time you’d catch his gaze. For letting your skin form goosebumps every time you’d get a whiff of his scent reminding you of where you felt the safest. Most of all hating yourself because you came here to ask about Yeji. Not simp over the man that never leaves your head. The one singular man that has your heart breaking every day even more.

It was sick. What love can do to someone. It can test every single nerve in one’s body, it can fuck with your brain and make you into a robot rather than a human. It was nauseating what love can do to a human body. Sure it feels nice in the moment, but once that breaking point comes, your body crashes. It hates the pain, despises the feeling of your chest crushing and squeezing your heart like it was a poor man who owed money to the mafia. Like it was the victim of the school bullies, kicked and beaten for what? For a few moments of happiness?

Yet if you had the option to click a magic button and let yourself relive the happy moments, you would. You’d abuse it. Because the euphoric feeling was addicting. It felt better than sex, it felt better than a cup of hot chocolate during a winter storm, better than any sort of reward. It was essentially like crack. It’d slowly take every ounce of the best of you, and turn everything you once adored into pain.

“How are you?” His voice was small, like a scared child testing the waters.

You blinked, your expressionless face never broke character.

“I’m okay,” you replied in a more confident voice, “how are you?”

Jungkook looked down at the table, picking at the skin around his nails. His hand brushed around the nape of his neck, awkwardly.

“I’m,” his tongue poked his cheek, “I��m trying my best.”

“How’s yej-“

“I’m worried about yeji”

Your eyebrows shot up. Everything around you seemed to freeze in place and finally, the heart you have been protecting so much from breaking any further shattered all over again. You kept calm despite the fact that tears sprung to your eyes almost immediately. It was single handedly the worst thing he could have told you. It was something you thought you prepared yourself for, but nothing can ever prepare you for the pain of your loved ones suffering.

“She doesn’t have anyone other than me. Even then she doesn’t talk to me aside asking me what I’d like to eat or drink. She has no friends. She hasn’t smiled ever since that day, she’s lost a lot of weight too. I don’t know.. I don’t know how to help her Y/N.” His voice began breaking and your heart was ready to make its way out your throat and runaway on tiny little legs screaming for a break.

“Please help her.”

You closed your eyes, looking away from him.

“Okay.”

The look in her eyes had you terrified. She looked as if she was just one step away from breaking or perhaps shooting you. She stood across the room from you with the angriest and sharpest look you have ever seen on her. She was like a lioness ready to pounce to protect her cubs and it scared you to death.

More than anything, she looked so fragile. So poorly. As if she was sick and it was making you anxious. Even weeks before the fight, she started looking sickly. She was a lot more tired than before, and coughing almost all the time. It made you wonder, if maybe she was, sick?

“Yeji?” You asked gently, “can I talk to you please?”

There was a beat of silence, “now? After you left me when I need you most? Now?” She yelled.

You bit onto your inner cheek, hanging your head in shame, “I still care about you. I’m so sorry. I love you so much and I regret ever leaving you. But I need you to talk to me.”

She began crying and it had you rushing to her, practically breaking your ankles as your grabbed her delicate body to yours, hugging her as tightly as you could. As if you could just put her in your heart and keep her forever safe. She gripped onto your jacket, sobbing into your shoulder as you ran your hand through her head. Hugging her closer to your body.

Her entire body was shaking as you held her, your heart was aching as you sat on the couch. Jungkook stood at the kitchen island, biting his lips as he watched the two of you. Hating himself for doing all this to both of you because he was so selfish about you.

“Don’t freak out please,” she began, licking her chapped lips, “I have cancer,”

Jungkook stilled, his body raised in goosebumps everything he’s ever loved, everything he’s ever protected her from, all of the worrying about her, the one thing no one can protect another from, happened. And it was like someone pulled the rug beneath his legs. He could barely breathe.

“I- I had cancer?,” she questioned, “I, um, I had surgery, a small one, to remove the tumour, it was the mole on my back, they removed it successfully. I just need a few rounds of chemo to make sure the cells are all gone and have my bloods done every couple weeks to check my marks.”

“Yeji…” your bottom lip trembled, “why didn’t you tell me before?.”

She sighed, sniffling, picking at the pillow between both of you, “because,” she shrugged, “you weren’t here much. You were away for Jungkook’s fight, and the surgery date was set on the day. I thought I could tell you when you’d come back. But then all that happened.”

“That doesn’t matter, Yeji. You are the most important to me. I would’ve dropped everything for you.”

“That’s exactly why,” she smiled sadly, “I didn’t want to stop anyone’s life for me. After all I’m fine. It wasn’t anything serious.”

You held her hand, kissing it as you leaned her into your chest. Holding her, “you’re so strong yeji. You’re the strongest woman I know.”

Jungkook sat on the other side of his sister, leaning onto her and holding her just as tightly as you held her, “I’m so sorry.”

“Guys I’m okay I promise.”

No matter what she’d tell you. You’d forever blame yourself for leaving her lonely during all this. The fact she had to be alone during the hardest days of her life was unfair. You were truly a bad friend and you wish you could go back and look at the signs. They were all there. Yet you didn’t even pay enough attention to realise it.

“I still can’t believe you touched my brother.” She fake gagged, making you chuckle.

“He’s not all that anyway.”

A/N: sorry?

MASTERLIST

any copying of my work is strictly prohibited. E.G : recreational work, translation or copying.

[tojiscrack]

is it weird that i wish y/n existed in the actual jjk verse. like her personality fits so well with almost every single character, and the chemistry between megumi and y/n is THE BEST ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

her personality is so real and unlike any other reader i’ve come across in other reader x [insert character] fics. the chemistry between her and other characters doesn’t feel forced, if you understand what i mean? i thoroughly enjoy reading EVERY scene because of that! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

you said to look out for foreshadowing which is what i have been trying to do but perhaps i’m being a little silly looking way too early, considering other chapters have not been released yet. but one thing i have noticed is that megumi only really has shown CLEAR signs of liking her more than just a friend when he is about to leave her (not the scene where he’s silently fighting over sitting next to her at yuji’s place because that could arguably be seen as platonic too despite me seeing it as him liking her) - for example; when he’s going on vacation without her. now i understand that this is only one example but i have a feeling that this may become a reoccurring theme - what was it, absence makes the heart grow fonder? i have a feeling he’ll only ever understand his feelings for her when he is away from her. and given the angst hashtag, it wouldn’t exactly be surprising if for any reason they moved away from each other, whether figuratively or physically.

i could be completely wrong though and if that’s the case, then this is embarrassing ( ᵒ̴̶̷᷄◡̶͂ᵒ̴̶̷᷅ )و

but regardless, i’m so happy i stumbled across this fic. seriously, the way u write is awesome and i can only wish to be as good as you when it comes to writing! the dialogue, the chemistry between the characters is so cute and feels like a coming of age sitcom. i love it i love it i love it and i love you!! (๑˃́ꇴ˂̀๑)

please keep up the good work, soldier. i salut you for your hard work keeping us all sane after gege shattered our souls (stay alive, don’t let him find you) ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

liar, liar masterlist here

oh. my. GOSH. a long message? AJSJWKSJWJSJ STOPPP I’M SO EXCITED TO ANSWER THIS

it is not weird at ALL. i created this y/n with the sole thought that there should be a character as wild as her (i love goofy characters sm you have no idea). like my fav character from aot? connie. fav from jjk? gojo. fav from haikyuu? tanaka and hinata. fav from death note? L (don’t lie, that man was funny af).

read that entire sentence about her chemistry with megumi and the relationship she has with the other characters not being forced with a FAT smile on my face 🙂‍↕️ an author knows they’ve won once someone points this out using their own free will. thank you for that 😭💞

the second i saw the word ‘foreshadowing’ in ur message, JAISJWISJWJSJ. YES, YOU HAVE A PREDICTION? TELL ME MORE (i feel like a mastermind rn muahahahaha) 😋 you are nawt silly for looking for it earlier. i’ve dropped so many hints and no one’s picked it apart yet (surprisingly). some are more obvious than others, but let me tell you now, once you’ve noticed it, you’re gonna smack ur forehead and think ‘why didn’t i see this before?’.

i LOVE how you’re playing devil’s advocate for yourself (you’re so smart omg). like you’ve mentioned how the only in-your-face type of thing we’ve seen so far is the airport scene (i mean, if gojo pointing it out wasn’t so obvious, dk what is, really, lolol). and i also like how you’ve made it so that the arguing in yuji’s room can be easily seen as platonic despite what you might think (we need smart people like you so pls don’t die tyvm).

and OOH, IDK WHAT TO TELL YOU WITHOUT SPOILING IT. distance makes the heart grow fonder… yeah, can’t reveal whether this trope is for them or not. i can, however, confuse you a little and say that you’re half right. maybe, like, forty five percent right if i have to slap a number on it. yeah. but there is something that occurs later on (you guessed it, with the angst hashtag) that makes me want to say that you’re actually fifty five percent right. idk, you’ll see what i mean once the main story’s out 😭

this would NOT be embarrassing for you if you’re wrong, let me tell you that much. this fic’s been out since the end of december (beginning of january?) and no one’s come to a prediction as well thought out as yours. for that, i will NOT forget you when i write out the half-correct prediction of yours in the coming chapters.

i’m so happy you stumbled across my fic too! 😭 i’m having sm fun writing this out and laughing to myself (not at you babe, just as the evil mastermind that i am). i’ll be responsible for your complaints once the angst chapters get out (plural because there’s a LOT of them planned). tysm for ur kind message, i’m so flattered my writing pleases you 😭 dialogue is hard to write, trying to match it with the characters ofc, so i appreciate your support on that 💘

girl, gege will never find me. after what he did to my satoru, i will find him. don’t get it twisted.

on the contrary, i’m so upset you wrote all of this anonymously but i respect it, there might be a gazillion reasons why you’d like to remain anonymous. so if you ever send a message again, just lmk it’s you. call yourself the ‘big brain anon’ (😤) because you’re so smart and ily and don’t be humble about it, you are SO smart <3

[timdrakemybeloved]

Snape makes me so fucking mad holy fuck, I’m incapable of thinking of him positively. I don’t even like Draco and I think of him 10x more positively than I think of Snape.

What kind of person gets bullied as a child and then grows up and bullies the child of his bully like that makes him way worse than James (btw I love James and I fully believe he matured and grew up and is a good person who deserved more than for Snape to tell a literal Nazi terrorist to kill him and his infant son but to leave his wife alive). Snape had way more power over the kids he taught than James did over him and what did he do with it?

He made fun of their appearance and scared them to the point that he was Neville’s boggart (which when you think about it is so awful because 1, Neville’s parents got tortured into insanity and I’m pretty sure he was there, and his boggart probably should have been Bellatrix or his uncle even, and 2, he did it because Neville was the other possible prophecy child and Snape was upset that Voldie didn’t pick him to kill when HE GAVE HIM THE PROPHECY IN THE FIRST PLACE).

He said shitty things about Harry’s dead parents and orphan-hood, was glaring at Harry literally right off the bat so don’t say it was because he got into trouble a lot, asked him questions he couldn’t possibly know, told Draco to summon a serpent during duelling club??? How irresponsible is that???

Literally lied to the minister just to get Sirius killed, which atp is ridiculous (I think Sirius was dumb as fuck, careless, possibly malicious, to tell snape where to go to find moony, but snape literally already suspected that Remus was a werewolf so idk what the fuck he thought was gonna happen if he found him during the full moon, and calling it a murder attempt is a stretch), like grow up please this man was in Azkaban for 12 years which is a hugely disproportionate punishment for anything he did do to you, and the reason he was there in the first place was literally fraudulent, which he knew and he lied anyway.

And honestly the Legilimancy lessons were fucking joke, who looks through an abused kids memories and makes fun of both the abuse and the few good memories he has?? And then he’s surprised that Harry tried to equal the playing field between them?? Snape had way more power than Harry did, and obviously it wasn’t the best thing to do to a person but yk what I’m not going to judge Harry’s actions, Snape was abusive and the victim isn’t to blame for their reactions to their abuser.

And he threw Harry across the room for seeing his memories?? Abuse. To be honest even seeing the memory about James being a bully felt like JKR trying to make shit up as fast as possible to make Snape seem more redeemable, which apparently worked for some people who think abusing kids is okay as long as you have a tragic backstory and an abusive parent. And it actually makes me really mad that he thought Harry was treated like a prince so decided to treat him like shit so he wouldn’t get any ideas about having self esteem or confidence, then found out that he was abused and then just did nothing and tbh treated him worse. And the lessons themselves were actually painful to Harry?? They definitely made his mind more vulnerable, he had more nightmares.

And let’s not forget that he joined a Nazi group that wanted to exterminate people like his best friend, called his best friend a slur, viewed Lily as an exception to the other muggleborns, and invented sectumsempura for his enemies IN SCHOOL which means the Maurauders.

And it makes me sick that he looked in a room with a crying baby whose parents just got murdered, his mom right in front of him, and a dead woman who was killed by his Nazi leader like directly because of his actions, and then he ignored the baby and went to hug the woman’s dead body. Like if I was Lily, I wouldn’t want him near either my body or my child, but if he was my only option, then he better be fucking taking care of my living son. Like she rejected him his weird obsession for her freaks me tf out.

And I get that without Snape asking for Lily to be spared, Voldemort wouldn’t have asked Lily to stand aside and the blood protection wouldn’t have been activated, but literally once good thing happening because of a tragedy he caused doesn’t make him a good person.

Anyway. Think I got it out of my system for now. Fuck Snape. :)

Edit: Just to be clear, I actually find his character really compelling, even though I dislike him and his actions. And of course I’m not saying no one can like Snape.

[sugoi-and-spice]

My actual prediction for [REDACTED's] fate at the end of MHA, and just my big ol' meta on the whole situation.

Sadly, I don't think Shigaraki is coming back to life. I really fucking hope he does, but I can't believe it for two weeks and then watch it not happen, I will break . Yeah Horikoshi loves his fake out deaths... But idk, Shigaraki 's body is pretty damn gone. And he tends to pull his punches less when it comes to villains (Twice anyone?!)

I truthfully think the best chance we have of seeing him again is through One for All.

Shigaraki 100% transferred OFA back to Deku with that last bloody fist bump. That moment was a huge part of Horikoshi’s original ending with Bakugo, and I wouldn’t be surprised (or mad) if he decided to try to work it into this new version of his ending.

I think we probably will see Shigaraki again and get some more of that context and closure that we’re looking for, but it will be as a vestige within OFA. That’s my prediction, that’s the best direction that I can imagine this ending going in my little lizard writer brain. And I don’t think I’ll be mad about that. (But idk man, talk to me again in like 2 weeks lol).

I’ve always had a hard time believing that Shigaraki was going to make it out of this series alive. Of course, I’ve always wanted Horikoshi to find a clever way for him to do so without totally betraying his character -- I never believed that Shigaraki should fully join the side of the heroes. It’s just so antithetical to his mission and the message of MHA, nor could he ever just… live a normal life with every crime he committed, and him spending his life in prison would be just as miserable as him dying like this imo, no fucking freedom there. Sure, the simp in me wanted an ending where he got a redemption and life, but I certainly wasn’t optimistic. It would be a HARD fucking thing to do. I certainly don’t know how I would do it if I was in Horikoshi’s shoes, as a fellow professional writer (not just of romance either. I write and edit YA action fiction in my normie job, fun fact). I had hoped Horikoshi would figure it out, and a part of me is obviously hoping that Kurogiri managed to pull some hijinks and somehow warp him away, then he and his friends go on to live like little rats the way they have for the majority of the series, forever, buuuut-

I did always have a feeling he was probably going to go the Vader route.

Honestly, him dying beating the shit out of All for One is a pretty great exit for his character, feels more true than him sacrificing himself for the heroes’ side or humanity’s sake. It is the quickness with which this all occurred, the off-screen rescuing he had by Nana Shimura, and the lack of bodily autonomy in his death that I think is pissing people off. (It’s certainly what’s pissing me off). If we had even just gotten a moment of him having full control of his body again, looking up to the sky and seeing his friends waiting for him as he decayed away – or you know, just a death that lasted longer then two damn pages – I think the reactions wouldn’t be so visceral.

That being said. Horikoshi is a master chef, particularly when it comes to stories of recovering from trauma and getting closure, as well as tying up loose threads imo (remember when everyone though that he FORGOT the traitor plotline? Boy was that an embarrassing time for the fandom lmao),  and this man has been cooking for a while now. MHA has been the best it has ever been in this Final Saga and I don’t think he’s done with this dish just yet, nor do I think he’s done with Shigaraki. Physically? Probably. But everything that Shigaraki represents and stands for in this series, no I don’t think this is the end of that. Just because we didn’t see those moments we wanted in this last chapter, doesn’t mean we won’t see them in the next.

So as shell-shocked as I am right now to see my ultimate comfort character (who I have a tattoo of by the way lol) fade away into dust, I’m gonna trust the process and Horikoshi for now.

It ain’t over til it’s over, as it were.

Peace.

(And all that being said, I probably will still write a fix it fanfic where he lives instead, regardless of how this is handled lmao)

[summerwritesfics]

🎧Song Inspired Shorts - A Thousand Years

Pairing: Hanzo Hasashi/Kuai Liang Length: 2978 Words Rating: Mature Warnings: Sci-Fi AU, Outer Space, Exploration, Alien Planet, Space Captain!Hanzo Hasashi, Alien!Kuai Liang, Alien!Frost, Scientist!Takeda Takahashi, Anger, Misunderstandings, Time Travel (or at least that’s implied), wibbly wobbly timey wimey, Implied Mpreg Song: A Thousand Years - Scandroid

Song Inspired Shorts Masterlist

I would wait a thousand years for you, I would brave new frontiers for you, I would trade a thousand years for you, A thousand years, a thousand years

Notes: Another one from about 2 years ago I’m so fucking sorry lmfao idk why I’ve been hoarding these like some sort of weird fanfiction dragon but anyway. Actually I’ve surprised myself a little cuz even in that timeframe I still remember exactly what was really going on here, so maybe I’ll try to write more lol. The implied Mpreg is with Kuai BTW, but given this is me, bottom bitch Kuai Liang fanatic, I figured that should be obvious but figured I should clarify just in case anyone gets their hopes up lol

“Uh, Captain?”

Hanzo turned to face where the timid voice had come from. Takeda stood staring at his scanners, shivering slightly, his spacesuit clearly not giving him as much protection from the cold as intended. This entire planet was nothing but ice and snow, and Hanzo had to admit, even with the added protection, it was still a bit chilly.

“This planet is meant to be uninhabited, right?” He asked, glancing from the scanner to Hanzo.

“It is an uninhabited planet, yes.” Hanzo shared a glance with the two other crew members. Both looked as perplexed as Hanzo felt.

“It’s just… I’m picking up two extra life signs.”

Hanzo’s head snapped over to Takeda before he strode toward the young man. He looked at the scanner, and just as said, there were two life signs being picked up not too far from where they were. These never came up on their initial scan of the planet from the main ship. From the scanner it looked like they were extremely faint, which might have been why, but it was still odd.

He looked over in the direction where the signs were coming from. He couldn’t see anything except a mountain in the distance. Still if the scanner was right and there was something or someone alive on this planet, they had to check it out.

He clicked his commlink with the ship back on and stated, “Captain to bridge, we have unexpectedly picked up on life signs, we are going to investigate.”

“Roger that Captain,” the voice said on the other end. Hanzo nodded at the three crew with them, before gesturing for Takeda to lead the way, seeing as he had the scanner.

As they made their way across the barren land, the closer they got to the mountain, the stronger the life signs were getting. Despite the snow, he could make out a structure that definitely wasn’t a natural part of the mountain. There was what looked like a massive archway, made of stone, leading into what appeared to be a cave system.

The four of them paused outside the cave. The arch was very ornate, patterns of strange beasts and shapes carved into it. Clearly there had been some form of life here before. Hanzo looked into the cave, but it was so dark there wasn’t much to see.

“The signs are definitely coming from inside there,” Takeda explained, frowning as he stared into the darkness. “It’s up to you Captain if we continue but given that nothing is supposed to be here I think it’s worth pursuing.”

“Ah yes, the expert opinion of a junior scientist,” one of the other crew, Katashi, sarcastically replied, rolling his eyes as he did. “You’ve not even passed your exams yet.”

“He can only pass his exams by gaining field experience,” Hanzo snapped in return. Katashi’s eyes widened and wore a grimace on his face, knowing he really should not have said that in front of Hanzo. Takeda wasn’t just another crew member after all, he was the son of one of Hanzo’s closest friends. He had a personal duty of care as well as a professional one. “Besides, even without a qualification, I’d put money on him knowing more about science than you do.”

“Yes. Sorry Captain.” Katashi hung his head low. Takeda just looked uncomfortable, the confrontation not something he would want to be involved in.

“I have to agree with Takeda,” the other crewmate, Junpei, added. He either didn’t notice or outright ignored the glare Katashi shot him. “We were under the impression this planet has never had life of any kind on it.” He pointed towards the archway. “That rather implies otherwise.”

Hanzo nodded in agreement, clicking the comms on. “Captain to Bridge, we’ve found a cave we believe the life signs are coming from. We will be going inside, I will keep you updated.”

“Understood Captain. Good luck.”

The four of them slowly began to enter the cave, clicking on the flashlights as they did. It wasn’t much. But it should be enough to help them explore the darkness. The walls on the cave continued the patterns on the archway. Clearly a civilisation had been here at some point. It was strange there were no real signs anywhere else but given the conditions of the planet, it might have been better to live in cave systems.

It wasn’t long until in the darkness, he could see a blue light.

“Hello?” He called out. If there was a light, it was reasonable to assume that's where the life signs were coming from. There was no reply however, no sound of movement either except for a constant dripping sound.

Following the light brought them into what he’d almost describe as a room. There were several blue gems, clearly the source of the light, glowing and brightening the area. Looking around, it almost looked like someone had, at least once upon a time, lived here. There were tables and chairs, discarded plates, and what looked like rather rudimentary technology, all covered in a layer of dust. It seemed no one had been here in a long time.

So where are the life signs coming from?

“The scanner says the signs are coming from this room,” Takeda spoke as if reading Hanzo’s thoughts. “I don’t see anything though?”

Hanzo hummed, slowly strolling around the room. He could hear Takeda and Junpei talking about taking a sample of the crystals, as they were unlike anything else they’d ever seen. There even seemed to be some discussion if it was possible the crystals were the life signs. Hanzo instead chose to take a closer look at the tables and things left behind.

There was one table that was particularly unusual. The main surface of the table was incredibly thick, and almost looked like it was made of metal unlike the others made of stone and wood. As he got closer, he realised the very top was made of glass, and through the dirt, he could see lights just past the glass and something else more solid. He reached forward to brush off some of the dust, only to be met with a shocking discovery.

There was a man's face under the glass.

“Takeda,” Hanzo called as he continued to clear the dust. The man looked mostly human, dark black hair and beard. Except he had slightly pointed ears, and what looked like a scar over his one eye, only for some reason the flesh was blue. His face was completely relaxed, and eyes closed. He didn’t look like he was breathing.

Takeda reached his side, staring wide eyed at the man, before lifting up the scanner. “This is where the life sign is coming from…” His mouth went tight. “Both of them, actually.”

Hanzo continued to wipe the dust away, until around the man's chest where he saw the tips of blue hair. Soon, he revealed another person, this one a little girl laying atop the man's chest. The man had his arms around her, like he was protecting her from something. She also did not appear to be breathing.

“How can they possibly be alive?” Hanzo questioned in a whisper.

“This seems to be a status pod,” Takeda explained. Given how old the rest of the technology looked, it seemed so strange that they would have the ability to create such a complex machine. “They’re both alive, just… frozen in time.”

“But why?” Junpei questioned, leaning over to look at the two figures. “I mean, it looks like this place has been abandoned for a long time, why put these two into status?”

“Maybe he put himself into status for some reason?” Katashi added, the first time he’d talked since Hanzo had scolded him. He was looking at the man with an eyebrow raised.

“We won’t know unless we bring them out of status,” Takeda pointed out, tapping the glass with his finger. “It’d probably be better to transport it to the ship, we can keep a closer eye on their condition that way.”

Hanzo reached to pull out a transporter responder, and made sure it was stuck to the pod. He clicked his comm button again and said “Captain to Bridge, we have found something of interest, I have attached a transporter to it, requesting a teleport to the ship.”

“Affirmative Captain,” the voice on the other end said. “Locking on to the responder now.”

It took a minute, but soon a light emitted from the responder, and suddenly the transporter was gone.

“Bridge to Captain, Teleportation successful.”

“Affirmative, 4 to beam up then,” he commanded.

“On it, Captain.”

Another minute passed by, before Hanzo felt the familiar tingling sensation and the blinding light. He blinked, and next thing he knew, he was standing in the teleporter room, his three crew next to him. The pod was in front of them, a couple of science officers looking at it and whispering.

“Takeda, can you help them take it to the medbay and assist in the waking process?” He asked as he made his way towards the door. “Please contact me when it’s almost complete.”

“I will do Captain.” Takeda saluted before turning his attention to the status pod and began to coordinate its transport.

Hanzo on the other hand, had to go and report this discovery to the Earthrealm command. This was, after all, one of the biggest discoveries since the planet had first begun to reach out to others. The discussion went about how he’d expected. His chain of command had been extremely excited by the news of both a potentially long lost civilisation and the prospect of someone from that civilisation being in status. They requested more investigation into the cave and other surrounding mountains, which Hanzo was more than happy to arrange.

When he got the call from Takeda however, he knew that could wait.

He walked into the medbay, expecting the excited atmosphere to still be lingering. When he entered however, he just found tense silence, and no one seemed to want to make eye contact with him. He felt his heart clench. Did they not survive the revival process?

“Captain,” Akemi greeted, and Hanzo immediately knew something was wrong. She never referred to him by his title, only the ever embarrassing Hanzo-Chan nickname from when they were children.

“What’s happened?” He asked, as Akemi waved him over. “Are they okay?”

“They are fine, not fully awake, but their vitals are strong and they are slowly coming around.” She bit her lip, looking nervous. “But… there is something troubling we’ve found.”

Hanzo watched as she brought up a DNA analysis screen. He personally didn’t understand any of it, but he assumed Akemi was about to fill him in.

“We wanted to see if the man and little girl are biologically related.” She tapped some buttons, two graphics of DNA appeared, a cross section was highlighted with a red box from each. “As you can see, their DNA is a match, the girl is the man’s daughter.” Akemi paused for a long time, staring at the screen rather than Hanzo. She looked like she really did not want to say anymore, but eventually forced out, “however, our systems flagged up a second DNA match for her other parent.”

Hanzo frowned, why would the system come up with another match? They only kept records of the crew's DNA.

… Unless…

“The other parent is someone in the crew?”

Akemi was silent, and clicked another button. Hanzo looked towards the screen and watched as the second DNA match was pointed out. A photograph of the crewmate came up seconds later.

And Hanzo found he was staring at a photo of himself.

“What?” He questioned, mouth agape and feeling a cold sweat overtake him. “How? That's… That’s not possible!”

“We’ve double checked- triple checked even.” Akemi shook her head, rubbing her cheek with her hand. “Every time, it comes back to you.”

Hanzo didn’t know what to say. What could he say? He had never met the man in the pod in his life. So how could this child possibly have his DNA?

Before he and Akemi could talk further, Takeda emerged from another room and stated “he’s starting to come around.”

The questions could wait until later. Right now, he had to go and see if he could get any sense out of this strange man. That’s if the ship's translation systems could even translate what the man was saying.

As he walked into the room, he saw the man was already sitting up, although his head was down and he was swaying slightly. He was clearly disoriented. Hanzo knew how that felt. He’d only been in status once but waking up from it was one of the most uncomfortable moments of his life.

“W-where am I?” The man questioned, voice groggy and lethargic.

“You are on the Starship Shirai Ryu,” Hanzo replied, stepping forward. He noticed the man’s fists clench as his head shot up, glaring at Hanzo with icy blue eyes. “My name is-“

“Hanzo Hasashi,” the man hissed, baring his teeth. Hanzo felt himself falter. Not only did this man know him, he seemed extremelyangry at him. “You… You have some nerve.”

“I- Do I know you?” Hanzo asked, genuinely confused.

“Do not play innocent with me!”

The man flung an arm forward, a blue energy being thrown towards Hanzo. He was thrown back against the wall. He heard Akemi and Takeda shout for him. He expected to fall to the ground, yet he didn’t. He just felt a cold creep across his chest. When he looked down, he found he was trapped against the wall by a formation of ice around his torso.

“You don’t get to pretend you don’t know who I am,” the man screamed, arm still outstretched as he leapt off the cot he’d been on. His legs buckled slightly but he did not relent. “You don’t get to act like you didn’t abandon me and-”

His face dropped, like he’d just realised something. His breathing became frenzied, as he frantically looked around the room. The man turned back to them, now not just anger, but outright murder in his eyes.

“Where is she?” He demanded, holding his hand forward. More ice began to engulf Hanzo. “What have you done to her?”

“Your daughter is safe,” Akemi tried to plead, “she is in the other room. We can take you to her, if you just-”

“Why should I trust anyone associated with him?” The man snarled with such venom it was almost terrifying. There was a crack as the ice spread.

“Please, I don’t know what I’ve done, but-” Hanzo was cut off by another growth spurt of ice. “We found you and your daughter in a status pod on an uninhabited planet.”

“W-What? Status…” The man trailed off, retracting his hand. The ice shattered and Hanzo finally fell to the floor. As Takeda and Akemi reached to pull him up, the man asked, “What year is this?”

“4020,” Hanzo stated softly. The man’s eyes widened and he stumbled backwards.

“No, but-” he reached a hand to his head and softly pulled on his hair. “That would be… a thousand years.” So, this man was from the 3000’s? But that didn’t explain how he knew Hanzo, or what anything he just said meant. “How are you alive? Your species don’t live that long.”

“I genuinely do not know what you’re talking about,” Hanzo softly said, taking an experimental step forward to see how it would go.

The man stared at him for a long moment, before he questioned, “you really don’t remember me?” There was a hurt in his eyes as he really studied him. He blinked rapidly, and tilted his head. “You look… Younger than when I first met you.”

Looked younger? “Well… I am 39.”

The man responded by shaking his head, “no, no you were 48 when we met.”

How the hell is that possible? Meeting me at an older age 1000 years in the past? He looked to Takeda and Akemi for an answer but both of them looked bewildered.

He turned back to the man, “what is your name?”

“Kuai Liang,” he replied, looking away and grabbing his wrist with one of his hands. That anger he’d held seemed to have dissipated, leaving only confusion and an aching sadness.

“Kuai Liang, I do not know what is going on, or what I have done to make you so angry,” he began, Kuai seemed to continue to just stare at the wall, “but I promise I’ll figure this out if it’s the last thing I ever do.” Kuai seemed reluctant to believe him, but nodded in agreement. “For now, why don’t we reunite you with your daughter?”

Kuai turned and regarded him. Hanzo could see in his eyes that he was trying to work out if he already knew the child’s heritage. Neither of them said anything about it, but he was certain Kuai could tell Hanzo knew the truth.

“Thank you,” Kuai whispered, and Hanzo just tried to give him a reassuring smile. It didn’t seem to help.

Still Hanzo let Akemi lead them out of the room, into the one next to it, where a certain little girl was sitting up, looking tired and confused.

“Frost!” Kuai darted forward, rushing up to her and gathering her in his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Fine, Bàba,” She said with a yawn. “Where are we?”

“Safe, little one,” Kuai murmured, holding her close to his chest, even as he shot Hanzo yet another distrustful look. “We are safe.”

There were so many questions, so much about this situation that just didn’t make sense. That could wait, he supposed. For now, he’d let Kuai Liang and Frost settle from their ordeal before hitting them with the hard questions.

[moon-lv3r]

partner ~🍓

🦋 category: angst, hurt no comfort, one-shot

🦋 characters: fugo

🦋 summary: you had joined the gang some time after fugo and were great partners, friends and might even be something more but his anger started to go out of control

🦋 warnings: mentions of drug use, violence

🦋 notes:

(this was request on tumblr) this is a separate part to playmate

my brain is crazy, idk the word count but it looks insane for my brain and check the end for more notes lol

also, reader is a stand user and their stand name is tears for fears (yes the band) and their ability is to control the state of any kind of liquid, changing it from solid to liquid to gas. it is a stand with the appearance of a japanese weather doll, except it has hands, which is used in japanese culture to summon good weather or good luck. tears for fears can also change itself into a cloud to absorb surrounding liquids and use it for later. it is a close range combat stand in its regular state, it’s cloud form has a longer range but becomes weak in combat and can only store liquid, or turn gas and solid into liquid state

Dark, dimly lit streets welcomed your eyes everyday. It has been the same ever since your whole family died in a car accident. You were supposed to die with them but your father had managed to save you from drowning with everyone else after the car swerved into a lake. The water was as cold as ice, or perhaps even colder. You almost lost your life to hypothermia after your father saved you, he tried to save everyone else but unfortunately drowned. You were the only one left alive, with nothing to your name since the rest of the family decided to be greedy pigs and take all of your inheritance right under your nose. You were too busy with grieving to even realise what had happened. When disaster after disaster hits you like trains arriving at stations one after another, you decided to just completely give up. The only thing that kept you going was your drug abuse which made you forget about all of the wring things that had occurred in your tragic life.

It wasn't until meeting a man, technically he was just a few years older, but acted really mature and looked older, named Bruno Bucciarati that your life started to change for the better. It was surprising how a teenage boy from the mafia could improve your life so much. It was completely different from what you thought the mafia would be like. You were recruited into his small group and was the second person there, the first being a boy who was also the same age as you.

Pannacotta Fugo.

It all started when your drug dealer was killed, leaving you to find another way to look for drugs, which led you to Bucciarati and mistook him as a dealer. But you had no clue that he despised drugs with every cell in his body. He was mortified to see a young person doing drugs at your young age. His heart was shattered but was put together once again by his hatred for drugs and decided to take you in. It was during the lowest period of your life and the peak of your addiction. You never told him but you were really grateful to Bucciarati as he really helped you improve your life in ways you never imagined, never expected someone, much less a stranger, to do for you. You still remember getting your Stand in one of the most hilarious ways possible.

You pretended to smoke so that the lighter wouldn’t be found, or at least be deemed as suspicious. It did not work and Bucciarati had to bail you out as the police held you back, thinking you did something while visiting Polpo. You just kept smoking even while in bail, keeping the lighter on, until you decided that nobody would find out anyway and decided to just turn it on last minute. Surely Bucciarati and Polpo wouldn’t suspect anything, right? It wasn’t Bucciarati that bailed you out, it was some kid, your age, his name was Pannacotta Fugo. You almost laughed upon hearing it. His mother had to be insanely hungry with an impossible appetite to fill if she named her son after a dessert. You had to hold in your laughter when you found out and he didn’t even seem to notice that you had reeked of smoke, weed. It was your last supply, wasted away in a cell because you decided to join a mafia like it was a daycare. You had nothing to lose at this point and were willing to risk it all, and by all, you meant nothing.

"Light it up," said Fugo as he opened the door to a restaurant. You didn't pay attention to where you were going at all, too busy getting on your final supply of weed.

"Ah you want weed too?" You asked, "I ran out though, too bad."

"I meant the lighter...," Fugo replied in an awkward. "Not your... weed."

"Ah I see!" You grinned, lighting the lighter that Polpo had given you as a test. You were convinced that everything you were seeing was due to the fact that you were high, way too high for one weed. Until you felt the sharp, flesh piercing pain from an arrow.

The next thing you know, Bucciarati was standing over you and gently holding you up. What the hell just happened? Fugo watched you from a table, hot spaghetti sitting right infront of him and he looked like he was watching an interesting show. What had you gotten yourself into? Were they going to sell your organs? They were in the mafia right? Oh dear.

Oh very dear.

You were convinced that you fucked up, big time. Way too big.

"Are you alright?" Bucciarati's concerned voice echoed in your ear, instantly removing all of your doubts and making you trust him once again.

"Uh... Yes why wouldn't I be?" You quickly mumbled out a response which you know for a fact that even a fetus wouldn't believe it. You knew your face had turned against your own words.

"Then show it," said Bucciarati nonchalantly. You frowned, "show... what?" Your mind did not like where it was going. A cleaning session was very much needed in order to cleanse your mind of all of your questionable thoughts.

"Your Stand," Fugo announced from his seat, "we all have it."

"Uh... Yes I can stand I know that," you shot back, very confused. Did Fugo ever went to school?

Bucciarati shook his head disapproving and you were convinced that you were dreaming with what your eyes showed you next. There was something behind him, but not a shadow. It looked like it had zippers on parts of it's body. It had no eyes as well, some blue helmet-like thing covering it. What the hell was that? What was Bucciarati? You turned to Fugo and registered his face filled with hesitation, you then turned to Bucciarati and saw him signalling to Fugo to do something as well. What Fugo showed you was way more surprising and had your eyes widen to the point where it could reach the top of your head and examine the blood vessels connected to your brain.

It had a purple and white chess pattern and appeared much more menacing compared to Bucciarati's zip man. Something about that purple thing struck fear into your heart and you just knew that you had to stay away from it at all cause. There was just something about it that made you afraid for no reason. Even Fugo seemed to not like that purple creature very much.

"What are those things?" You finally asked, fingers pointing accusingly at the two mafioso. "What kind of things are you guys up to? What have I gotten myself into?"

"Relax," Bucciarati began. "What we have is called a Stand. You have it too, since you failed Polpo's test."

"What was his test again?" You asked, memories flew all over your mind and it was impossible to gather all of them into one place for you to remember what exactly the mission was. But from the sounds of it, you had messed up big time. Should have never gotten involved with the mafia.

"The lighter," Fugo began. He started explaining how the lighter works and how you could gain an ability after relighting it. It all sounded foreign to you and you were just convinced that you had to be high.

That was until Fugo asked you to show your ability and what looked like a bedsheet ghost appeared. It took you a moment to realise that it bore a resemblance to Japanese weather doll. You used to love them as a child. It had a droplet pattern scribbled all over it and its face really looked like something that you would expect from a weather doll. Two small dots for eyes and a small smile. It didn't have any legs, unlike Bucciarati and Fugo's Stand. It was actually floating like a little ghost.

Were you high or was this actually happening, you could not tell for the life of you. Was this a dream? It felt too realistic yet unrealistic at the same time. Were you seeing ghosts?

"Are you guys not going to tell me what is going on?" You demanded. "What is all this? This is crazy!"

Bucciarati turned to look at Fugo, gesturing for him to be the one to inform you about everything. He looked a bit hesitant but still obligated and opened his mouth. Apparently this mafia was unlike every other, something about how this mafia has Stand users, which is an ability people have based on their fighting spirit and things like that. Other than that, Passione was basically like every other mafia organisation, except nobody knows the leader, those who tried got their lives ended. Didn't get an answer to their question too.

It took you days to get used to your new ability and the main reason was because you didn't even bother to try. You were convinced that you had to be on some sort of a hard drug that was making you feel all this oddly realistic fiction stuff. There was no way this happened. Bucciarati had sent Fugo over to check up on you and also to help you pack so that you would be able to move and live with Bucciarati instead of the dumpster home which you have been staying at for months now.

"How much drugs do you have here?" Asked Fugo on the final day of packing. "Bucciarati would be horrified upon seeing this."

"Don't know, didn't count," you shrugged. "Trying to quit but it's hard. Been relapsing for a while now."

Fugo went silent as he picked up some of the leftovers that you had. You didn't even know how they got here, just woke up and saw it and lost all self-control you had. "Do I throw them away?" He asked politely. You hesitated before nodding your head and he packed your drugs into a separate bag. The rest of the packing and walking to Bucciarati's home was filled with silence, both of you were too awkward to initiate another conversation. Bucciarati's home was spotlessly clean, not one dust could be spotted and he already had a room for you, which was neatly decorated. White walls and a bed greeted your eyes alongside a nightstand beside your bed. It was simple, yet a rare sight for you, given the fact that you had spent months on the streets, busy greeting rats and getting high every second to even try and function like a normal human.

"My room is right next door, knock if you need anything," Fugo told you as he placed your bags on an open space in your room and left.

That night, you couldn't sleep. Maybe you weren't just used to a completely new environment yet. But you just walked around like you were touring a new country. Bucciarati's house was big for 3 people living here. It had made you wonder how much cash does this man make. Surely it couldn't be honest methods since he was still a teenager.

It wasn't until you suddenly remembered that Bucciarati was in the mafia that you realised how stupid you were for thinking about how he got this much cash. Of course he'd have a lot since he was working for one of the biggest mafia organisations in Italy. You walked about for a while more and decided to enter the kitchen for a quick drink.

"Can't sleep?" Fugo asked. It was dark but you could feel his gaze on you.

"Clearly you can't either," you replied. "This house is huge, do you want to explore it with me?" You asked. "You can't sleep anyway."

Fugo stared at you blankly, as though he was a confused child being asked to do a complicated math question. "Are you that bored?" He asked.

"Come on Fugo, we live together anyway, shouldn't we spend more time together?" You responded, trying everything you could think of to convince him due to your fear of the dark. You were scared of the things that the dark has to offer. Things were often way more terrifying when you can't see them.

Fugo appeared defeated and accepted his fate. It seemed that he would rather walk with you than to sleep, which made you wonder why. You looked amazed at Bucciarati's choices in furniture, the colours really blended well together. Not too bright, nor was it too dark. It was a pretty and cozy home. Fugo agreed too, while mentioning that Fugo himself helped to pick out some of the furniture. You wondered what had happened to him to cause him to be with Bucciarati, he didn't look older than you so it had really made you wonder. What kind of tragedy struck him so hard to the point where he joined a mafia that gives people the power to kill?

Over the week, you practically glued yourself to Fugo. Not that there was much of a choice, Bucciarati was mostly busy and he also asked Fugo to teach you the simple stuff they do.

The group had started out with just Bucciarati, Fugo and you. Bucciarati himself did most of the tasks, even those that involved killing. It seemed that he wanted to protect your teenage innocent, while being a teenager himself. What had corrupted him? The longer you spent with the group, the more you had to wonder, and the deeper your bond became. It was a nice change when Narancia joined, then Abbacchio and lastly Mista. While talking to Narancia and Mista was fun, you still enjoyed your time with Fugo, the one that you knew the longest. Bucciarati spent most of his time with Abbacchio, perhaps it was because they were off the same age. Or maybe they were as equally corrupted, with their bloodstained hands. Perhaps it was why they were drawn to each other, attraction stronger than magnets.

Even with the addition of Narancia and Mista, both louder and more fun to be with, you were still closer to Fugo. Maybe it was the fact that the both of you only had each other in the group while Bucciarati was busy with most of his bloody work, treating them like his children despite there not being a huge age gap. He gave them a sense of family without even trying.

"Oi Panni!" You chimed happily, skipping your way to Fugo, his eyes once glued to the words on his book turned to face you. "Strawberry pannacotta, your favourite."

It was a bright Sunday afternoon and you were sent on a mission to find the thief stealing from the businesses protected by Passione. You decided to reward yourself by getting a few snacks and you just to happened to know that Fugo secretly likes strawberry flavoured stuff. But he was too embarrassed to admit it. Hence his eyes essentially glowed upon seeing the snacks but his cheeks flushed red from embarrassment.

"How'd you—"

Before Fugo could even finish his sentence, Narancia came flying towards the both of you, after seeing that you had snacks. "I'm hungry!" He announced happily, "is this for me?"

You hadn't brought any for the other members. Mainly because you didn't have much cash. Secondly because Fugo was the one that you were the closest to. Also the one that you just to happen to be the most attracted to.

The one you feel a romantic attraction to.

"Isn't it obvious Narancia? They like Fugo!" Mista shouted from the couch, breaking his attention from his favourite television show. "I don't know why they aren't dating yet!"

"Don't be silly Guido Mista," you snapped. "I brought four snacks too, you want any?"

A horrified look took over his face and he returned to watching his show. Fugo sighed at the sight, "just how can you be so scared of a number." Fugo opened the dessert you got for him. "Thanks by the way," he said, looking up at you with a small smile on his face. He wasn't as expressive as the others so this was a rare sight. "How'd you know which dessert shop is my favourite?" He asked.

"I didn't know it was your favourite," you replied, surprised that the both of you have the same favourite store. "Its mine too!"

"Really?" Fugo asked, feeling doubtful but still decided to believe you since why would you lie to him? "We should go there together then," he suggested.

After that, you decided to leave him alone and let him have some time to himself. Fugo was the type to value his personal space and you knew that. Deep down you had the feeling that Fugo did not reciprocate the feelings you had but you were happy to stay good friends with him. So long as you got to be on good terms with him.

What you didn't know that Fugo also viewed you as someone more than a friend but chose to ignore it. Believing himself to be inferior and not worthy enough. He believed that his flaws were such a disaster that nobody should be on a romantic level with him. He didn't think that someone would embrace his flaws, despite you not being as afraid of purple haze as you used to be when you first saw it. You had come to accept purple haze, saying that it wasn't as bad as Fugo made it out to be. It was nice to have someone to accept his imperfections without him telling someone what it was. But it didn't erase his inferior feeling. That feeling only allowed him to remain close friends with you, but even that was starting to be impossible for him.

Before anyone else came along, you and Fugo were essentially forced together. The only ones each other had. You and him had plenty of missions together, and he always helped you to use your Stand to its fullest potential. He was the one who named it too, Tears for Fears. It was one particular mission that made you and Fugo grew even closer even though he refused to show it.

"So we have to hunt down this guy?" You asked, holding up a file Bucciarati gave you. It was a simple mission of hunting a man down and forcing him to speak, or just bring him to Bucciarati if he refused. Bucciarati couldn't do this mission as he had to do another bloody mission. It was either hunting the man down or letting the young teenagers murder.

"I've seen him before," Fugo announced, getting ready to leave and hunt down the man Passione needed him to find. He was already by the door when you started to get ready.

"Asshole!" You cursed. "Wait for me!"

Fugo sighed, but still waited for you to finish up. "Faster," he demanded. "The man isn't going to do our job for us!"

“I am fast!” You shouted back, almost tripping while running towards him. Fugro sighed, how did he get paired up with you?

The both of you walked around, Fugo seemed to know where he was going since he walked with confidence in his steps. He was also careful as to not be seen as suspicious. It seemed that Fugo knew his job well. You couldn’t tell if it was impressive or concerning.

“Wait,” he suddenly stopped, his arm stretched open to stop you from walking in front of him.

“What’s wrong now?” You asked in a soft and almost quiet tone, thinking that he might have found something important.

And he did indeed.

It was the man that the both of you were looking for. He was wanted for allegedly trying to sell Passione’s stuff to competing mafias, trying to start the downfall for Passione. Rumour has it that he even wanted to try and find out the identity of their boss, but it hasn’t been proven yet, nor has the boss said anything about it. To your knowledge anyway.

“How are we going to attack?” You asked.

Fugo carefully examined the dark alley way the both of you were in and noticed a pile of liquid on the ground from the rain earlier the morning. “Your Stand,” he said, “try and absorb those liquid and dump over him, freeze it while pouring it over him too.”

“I’ll try,” you replied, calling out your Stand. Your Stand took on a cloud form and absorb all of the water on the floor in an instant. The man, his name was Cecilio Vece. Both you and Fugo couldn’t find any information about him being a Stand user so it was safe to assume that he wasn’t. But luck wouldn’t have it, the man had gone to see Polpo under a disguise and got himself a Stand. Overkill.

Suddenly, your little cloud had disappeared above his head. Fugo stared at you, informing you that it wasn’t a game and that you needed to be serious. But you just couldn’t summon your Stand anymore.

“I knew Passione would send people after me one day but children?” Cecilio laughed. “The economy must be terrible.”

Fugo stared wide-eyed at Cecilio’s Stand. It was a humanoid stand as well, gold in colour and had black strips all over it. It had a cage attached to it’s back and has a timer for lock. Inside the cage was your Stand. His Stand ability was to lock up one Stand at a time. “I’ve always felt locked and trapped in Passione and this Stand shows my true colours well.”

“Fugo your Stand!” You shouted as Overkill started to head your way, you barely managed to avoid an attack.

Fugo hesitated but after seeing you almost getting hurt, he decided to summon it. A purple monstrous beast came out. It seemed as though Fugo didn’t have much control over it. Even he himself kept a distance from the Stand. Purple Haze punched a nearby wall, causing one of its capsules to break open and pieces of the wall flying apart, some pieces scraping Cecilio’s face. He stayed away from the purple gas that filled the area after noticing Fugo’s actions, but he found a rat from a nearby trash bin and threw it towards the purple gas. It had died within seconds and you found yourself in shock of his ability. It could be helpful in the situation right now. Cecilio just needed to walk into it. But how?

You decided to observe his Stand, the cage behind it. The timer was counting down. So it couldn’t trap your Stand forever. That was a good sign for you. You could somehow do something after the timer ends. Besides, it now looked like Cecilio viewed Fugo’s Stand as a bigger threat than yours, yours didn’t have an instant kill ability.

“I trapped the wrong Stand didn’t I? He laughed as Overkill approached Fugo at a speed you didn’t know was possible. It was evident that Overkill has an extremely fast speed. Fugo didn’t have enough time to run away before he got hit. Purple Haze went rabid after that and a capsule was send flying towards Cecilio and Overkill. Overkill punched it towards Fugo and he almost looked horrified. You barely dragged him out of the way of the deathly virus. You tried to glance at the timer again, only a few seconds before your Stand would be released. Purple Haze left out a loud and menacing cry that caused Cecilio to have a look of horror over his face. "You must be a piece of work young boy, to have a Stand like this," he said. "Just what are you hiding?"

Cecilio tried to keep his voice calm but his trembling hands gave him away. It was becoming clear to you that he was afraid of Purple Haze. The timer went off with a ding sound and your little cloud Stand was released and a miniature version of Purple Haze was trapped in. Now Overkill was solely targeting Fugo.

"Fugo, can my Stand go in contact with it?" You asked. "The smoke."

He looked terrified and unsure so you took the answer as no. But he wasn't going to stop you from trying. Fugo had barely ducked an attack when you sent your little cloud over to the last remaining smoke which was quickly dying out and absorbed it. Fugo stared at you with his eyes as wide as the sun. "What if you—"

"I am still fine, its thanks to Purple Haze that I got this idea," you shut him down. "Interesting Stand you got there."

Quickly, you converted your Stand back into its humanoid form and walked towards Cecilio and his Stand, Overkill. Obviously taunting them for a fight, and taking the chance to test your strength. Overkill threw a punch and your Stand blocked it but you could feel the pain of it, and it showed on your face. Cecilio took notice and taunted you, calling you a weakling, worse off than Fugo. "Your ability is just shifting floating cloud! At least that guy's Stand could kill!" He laughed.

You had used your Stand a few times to know it's ability. You just needed to get Purple Haze's smoke close enough to him. The clouds darkened as the fight continued. Fugo couldn't do anything but watch and wait for his Stand to be released. The rain poured around you, drenching everything available on the ground. The floor was leveling with water and an idea floated into your mind. Your Stand ability has everything to do with liquid, or rather converting matter into different states but it was all mainly liquid. You could freeze the ground.

You decided to lure him to a puddle of water. One kick to the left which Overkill had blocked and moved to the right, so did Cecilio. You moved closer, and he moved backwards. Your Stand rushed in for an attack and so did Overkill, both Stand standing at close proximity and Cecilio was now your range as he had moved slightly forward, into a large puddle of water. It had swiftly been turned into ice after that.

His face turned horrid as he noticed but before he could ask you anything, your Stand punched his face so hard to the point where one of his tooth got loosen and came flying out. He had tears in his eyes as he realised he lost to a mere teenager. It seemed that one of his fears was losing to one. You decided to freeze that one up as well, all the way up to his eyeball. Purple Haze's smoke was still in your possession in the state of a liquid, held by your Stand. It waved it in front of the man as a threat.

And so, the interrogation began.

Questions floated around, answers forcibly snatched. Fugo wrote everything down while you asked the questions while waving the bottle of Purple Haze's ability so that he would talk. It had come to an end when Fugo's phone rang, it was a call from someone from the headquarters. Fugo looked confused as the headquarters usually called Bucciarati instead. He looked even more terrified after the call ended. It was a direct order from headquarters to end the life of Cecilio Vece.

"I don't have a choice then," you sighed. "We got everything we need."

Who knows what would Passione do if you hadn't ended his life.

Purple Haze's ability went forcefully down his throat and ended him from the inside and out. The both of you left him to fate after that. It was a silent walk home but you had thanked him for Purple Haze slightly helping out, it was a great Stand. He nodded, the murder was still on his mind. The both of you decided to never tell Bucciarati. How would he react?

"Have you come up with a name for your Stand?" He asked as the both of you reached Bucciarati's doorstep.

"Not yet," you replied. "My brain has everything but cool names."

"How about Tears for Fears? I saw how you froze his tear and the fear on his face after that," Fugo suggested. "Its a cool name... I think."

You paused, thinking over his suggestion and smiled. "You think? Its a great name Fugo!" You chuckled as Bucciarati opened the door to see you laughing and Fugo smiling.

"Did I send you on a mission or on a date?" He asked nonchalantly but secretly hiding a smile behind his mafioso facade.

"Both," you joked as you skipped your way past him and up into your room. If you only you had been the shocked and confused look on Fugo’s face.

It had been months since then, you and Fugo had been on more and more missions together as the both of you simply worked well. Purple Haze wasn't as much of a disaster with Tears for Fears around. It wasn't as rabid, it was slightly calm. It was like Tears for Fears had a calming effect on it. It was due to that reason that Bucciarati always paired the both of you together. You never complained and neither did he. He knew it was for the best and he enjoyed doing missions with you as well. The both of you often went out to eat after a mission, if it was simple, and had a good chat every time. Personal informations exchanged, friendship strengthened, knowledge about each other increased. Not only that, it was that mission that made you slowly start to like Purple Haze. He never got why but still allowed you to show some care to that Stand. There were times where you helped out Purple Haze with its hygiene and cleaned it up. Tears for Fears often got let out whenever you were with Purple Haze too. Fugo often showed some care to Tears for Fears too, but it wasn’t as often as you to Purple Haze.

“I don’t know why you like Purple Haze so much,” said Fugo one day as you patted Purple Haze on the head like it was a harmless child. It wasn’t. “At least Tears for Fears is easier to control,” he said while gently stroking it in it’s cloud form.

“It’s not that bad,” you explained. “I think you should give Purple Haze a break.”

“I mean don’t get me wrong. I am happy that Purple Haze isn’t hard to control all the time and you can tame it well but why? Isn’t Narancia’s Aerosmith more fun? It looks like a toy,” Fugo asked.

“I don’t like toy planes,” you shut him down. “Accept the affection Fugo, it’s not going anywhere. Whether you like it or not.”

He went silent, not expecting those words from you. He was caught so off-guard that he was speechless, his mind lost all of the vocabulary that he knew of. He just hadn’t got a clue as to what to say, and you noticed it.

“Aww did I make you speechless?” You laughed. “It’s alright now come on!”

“I never expected that from you,” he finally replied. It was a reply generating your urge for answers.

“Why?” You simply asked. Your hands were still on Purple Haze, patting it. It was calm and relaxed, just like Fugo himself right now.

“You have never sounded more bossy,” he explained, earning him a loud smack on the shoulder from you.

“Excuse me?” You demanded.

It was this unfortunate moment that Narancia and Mista had stumbled upon the both of you bickering. “Narancia I knew it!” Mista announced. “They are dating!”

“Finally!” Narancia jumped for joy. “Even Purple Haze likes y/n, I should’ve realised a long time ago!”

The noises they produced had even drew in Abbacchio and Bucciarati. The two older ones watched and looked at each other. “We are in the mafia, not a club for romance,” Abbacchio said, spoiling the mood.

“Leone leave the kids alone,” Bucciarati whispered, but it was unfortunately loud enough for the rest to hear.

“Are you two a thing?” You asked almost immediately. “Interesting.”

“You two?” Fugo looked almost disgusted. He wasn’t the biggest fan of Abbacchio when he first joined but warmed up eventually, but he was never a fan of them being together.

“We have two couples here, interesting,” Mista laughed.

“Do I have to start on the both of you acting like one with all the butt smacking?” Fugo snapped. It sent you into fits of laughter and even Bucciarati couldn’t keep it in and let out a small laugh.

The bond that you all had was seen as co-workers on the surface, but deep down, it had always been more. More than just colleagues.

But your final mission for Passione caused you to want to cut ties with everyone there. Especially Fugo.

It was in February of 2001. There has been another mission, physical mission. Similar to Cecilio Vece. It was a pair that the both of you have to fight, a man and woman, Virone Lanzi and Zaira Canali. Both helped the rivals of Passione and caused major loss of income in the last month. They were worse than Cecilio, they tried to get people to join their cause.

You and Fugo managed to corner them on top of a mountain, ready for a Stand fight, and a kill order. You were up against Zaira, attempting to make her bleed so that you could freeze her blood from the inside out and make her talk. Her Stand was called Love Thing, a humanoid Stand. It had a huge heart plastered on its chest. Her ability was unknown.

Virone’s Stand was called Lilac Breeze, it had the shape of a cannon and was able to shoot acid bombs. The acid was lilac coloured somehow. You would have been better off against him if it wasn’t for the fact that Zaira jumped at you at the first available chance.

“Shoot your capsules at him!” You ordered Fugo.

“I’m trying!” Fugo replied. “He is moving too fast for me to try!”

Fugo had to hide behind some trees while using Purple Haze to attack. Trying to get close enough so that his virus would get to Virone.

“You know, we heard you kids were the one who ended Vece,” Virone announced. Cecilo Vece. “You think I wouldn’t be ready for you two to come after us?”

“I expected better from you,” Zaira laughed. “But there’s only so much you can expect from a child.”

Before you could even respond, Love Thing managed to punch Tears for Fears aside and made its way towards you, giving you a sweet punch in the face, sending you flying into the trees behind. When you opened your eyes, the dark welcomed your sight. You couldn’t see. Zaira’s laughters echoed as you realised what was her ability. She could blind people.

“Fugo!” You shouted, he had to know. But Love Thing continued to pick up a fight with you and how do a blind person fight? You had no idea where she was going to attack.

Virone continued to taunt Fugo. He had dug up his past. Zaira knew of yours too. The both of you had informations of your past used against you. It wasn’t that big of a deal but Virone decided to make it his life goal to get under Fugo’s skin. “Aren’t you a terrible person?” Virone chimed.

Fugo was quiet, running away from him, trying to attack.

“Your professor was just trying to teach you, yet that’s how you repay him?” He continued.

“He wasn’t innocent,” Fugo snapped.

Virone laughed, “but that wasn’t what your family thought. Homeless unwanted brat. No wonder Bucciarati wanted you, he wanted more of his kind!”

The insult hurled towards Bucciarati was the final straw for Fugo as his anger got provoked. His eyes started to fill with fury and his mind started to lose its rational. Virone continued. “You’re so desperate that you’d run to anyone like a little dog .”

He laughed even more as his attacks began to hit Fugo bit by bit. The acid burns stung but he couldn’t feel it. He only saw fury. And he wanted blood. Fugo kept running, it was the only thing that he knew. Virone’s words didn’t even enter his ears anymore. He heard nothing but his cravings to ruin the man. Virone hadn’t even had time to realise his mistakes when Purple Haze got him right in the face and smoke covered him. Fugo stopped. He watched as Virone laid on the ground, his last breath stolen from him. Next, his eyes turned to Zaira kicking the life out of you, his next targets.

He once again dashed his way towards Zaira, ready for a fight against Love Thing. He was so blinded by anger that Love Thing wouldn’t do a single damage to him. His speed was unmatched, like his fury. Zaira was everything but relieved by the sudden change in ability, if only her partner knew how to shut up. Love Thing was having a hard time trying to block the punches that was being thrown at it. Zaira knew of Fugo’s ability and knew to avoid it for not dying a painful death. You didn’t see the fury on his face so you were glad to be finally free from the fight.

Fugo and Zaira were fighting further and further away from you. The cries were insanely loud, making you think that they were still extremely close by. Punches thrown and wounds were received. Fugo had been blinded by Love Thing but he was still furious and left fighting on and on. Zaira was helpless. It didn’t take long for the capsule to finally get to her and consume her from the inside and out. Her and her partner had the same way out. Finally the blindness was lifted. You weakly got up and saw Fugo standing away in a distance and called out to him happily, waving too. He turned around, and you immediately realised that something was wrong, especially when he started to run.

“What is w—”

His hands around your neck was not what you expected. He was strong, way too strong for someone with acid burns all over. They were minor but had to have hurt. It began to rain as the life was slowly being drowned out of you. You started feeling afraid of your dear friend. Nothing was working. You called out to him. You tried to hit him. His hands never freed. It was like he was a whole new person. He drilled fear into you in this very moment. Your throat was losing. Your life was slipping away in front of your very eyes. What had gotten into him?

You tried everything you could to get him off. You were too physically weak and tired to push him off. How was he this strong? What happened to him? What did Virone do to him? What kind of monster had Virone unleashed in Fugo? Was this even Fugo? He can’t be the same Fugo you knew. His fingers still squeezed the oxygen out of your body. You were slowly running out of it as your hands desperately tried to remove his. He simply wasn’t moving away. His eyes had nothing but fury. As though Love Thing had blinded it with rage. Was Fugo always like this?

It was terrifying to be in a situation like this, especially by your friend. There was no other way for you to free yourself unless you chose to die. That it until you finally remembered that you could use Tears for Fears to attack Fugo. Just like how he attacked you. You hadn’t got a choice, you had to do it to save yourself. Or else you would have died. Fugo was surprisingly dangerous, perhaps that was why Purple Haze was the way it was. When you tried to get Tears for Fears involved, Purple Haze entered the scene as well, attacking it and getting its capsule ready for attack. Fugo really wanted you dead. You watched the battle from the ground, trying to move Tears for Fears closer so that you could kick Fugo off.

Purple Haze wouldn’t allow it and kept trying to break a capsule on Tears for Fears. It kept avoiding the capsules and made a move towards Fugo. Purple Haze was just as rabid as its user. But at last you finally managed to free yourself as Fugo was finally kicked off. Purple Haze tried to finish you off instead but you used Tears for Fears to attack it at full force until it was finally gone. Fugo has passed out, and seconds later, you did too.

The both of you woke up side by side in Bucciarati’s house. You were immediately terrified of being beside Fugo and left the room. Narancia greeted you first, saying that Abbacchio was the first on the scene after complaining about how you and Fugo were on a date rather than finishing your mission. You went quiet, unsure if you should tell him the truth.

“What’s with the huge bruise on your neck though?” Narancia asked.

“It’s just…” you hesitated. “Don’t want to talk about it, going to my room.”

The door to your room remained locked for days. You didn’t leave. You had the showers in your room so there wasn’t any reason to. You just didn’t wait to see him for now, while you thought about what to do. Would they ever believe you if you told them the truth? Or should you only tell Bucciarati?

3 moons had passed before you willingly left the room. Fugo was out grocery shopping so it was the perfect opportunity to gather everyone and tell them the truth. They listened to everything up to the point where you admitted that you wanted to leave.

Narancia was the first to protest. “Fugo hurt me a few times because I couldn’t do math! He just need anger management, I am sure he hadn’t meant it! Just talk it out please!”

“It was attempted murder,” you said.

Narancia went silent, “please don’t go.”

“Are you sure?” Bucciarati asked. “Fugo had quite a few outbursts but I thought he had gotten better than the way he was, but I guess he still has a long way to go. It is your choice, I won’t force you but please be careful.”

“Live a clean life,” said Abbacchio before retreating. “Stay clean of the dirty streets, you don’t belong.”

“Don’t go please y/n!” Narancia begged as Mista held him in his arms. “Don’t force them Narancia!” He shouted.

“Are you just going to left y/n leave?” He asked, eyes filled with tears.

“I don’t want y/n to leave too,” Mista looked at you. “But I respect their decision. You acting like this is just making it hard for me not beg them to stay.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, holding back tears of your own. “I will be gone by midnight.”

You retreated back into your room, getting ready to pack your items. It didn’t take long. Bucciarati even came in to help and gave words of advice and gifts from other members. Even an apology letter from Fugo, for you to read when you are ready. You accepted it and thanked him for everything that he has done for you.

Fugo was sad that you were leaving but it wasn’t like he could stop you either. It was his fault, he could only blame himself. As the clock struck 12, he watched your shadow get smaller as you exited the place you and him called home. You left your family and best friend behind. Now you had nothing. He lost you. One of his favourite friendships. Who was to say he wouldn’t lose more? He couldn’t be more upset with himself. Why did he lose his temper? Couldn’t he have calmed down after killing Zaira? Did he have to go that far?

Why did he have to be such a person?

Couldn’t he be better?

Of course he messed up another good thing in his life.

He was everything but a human wasn’t he?

Could he have been better at controlling himself? He hoped so, but clearly he hadn't been when it came to you. That was his sole regret that he wished he could undo.

Everything would have been different if one thing have been different. You would still be in Passione and laughing away with Narancia and Mista.

But you were gone and he could do nothing about it.

It was good that you never stayed for the bloodshed that happened with Giorno, but you would never realised that you would never ever see your friends the same way again. For some ended up broken while some, dead.

[blackghostm2o]

Lately I’ve been reading Hellblazer for the 1st time and I’ve just finished issue #27: I’m really enjoying it, it’s really particular and sometimes strange.

My thoughts of some issues (probable SPOILERS ahead)

#13 (nightmare iirc): it is so bizzarre, I know it wasn’t supposed to be funny, but honestly I’ve laughed like and idiot while reading it (especially when the two headed seal was born, mostly because I am deranged and I immediately thought of a part of the “Divine Comedy”, pliz don’t ask me why)

#1/2 (mnemoth): Really liked it, R.I.P. Larry, John is a fucking bastard, but the the type that I like (at least he felt bad) and he was a pathetic lil meow meow (plz don’t kill me people)

#11: (Newcastle): Mucous membrane is a really unusual name for a band. Also John is an idiot for doing that, like… Man… Calling a demon to fight another demon without having a lot of experience? Really risky, but he is a gambler after all, so it checks out, I guess... Also R.I.P. the lil girl.

All the Resurrection crusade and Damnation army thing: I know that he didn’t have much choice but c’mon… leaving Zed, a woman that he loved, to die like that? Also those bastards killed Ray, fuck them and their shitty cult. I’m glad that John could save his niece, Zed did good to that hideous strangler, but I feel bad for the other girls. The 4 dudes fused tougher that destroyed each other for football stuff were hilarious. I loved how John was haunted by his dead friends and his grief, I really liked seeing him as a broken man. I also loved the way John killed Nergal using the computer world with the help of Richie, but Richie taking Constantine’s body and John bluffing (at least I thought he was, idk) to take us back was magnificent lol

The Fear machine: pretty interesting, I wanted him to just live pace fully with Mercury and Marj, but that’s not possible. The fear thing has a really cool design and it’s also disgusting. Zed is alive!!! But that cult (?) is really strange. John chained to the tree and left there was unintentionally funny, but the whole egg thing was strange. I felt bad for the dude that stabbed his own eyes and for all the ones sacrificed by that “butcher” (the gays and the Russian, but the director deserved it). Towards the end I was finding it a bit boring but the all hell was let loose.

The thing with book characters taking Larry (?): Ok… A bit confusing, but I loved how they portrayed Hamlet. I don’t feel pity for the dude that was addicted to bargain after reading the family man chapter

#25/26: I really liked the art. The story was enjoyable. I further think that it’s better for people to not be Constantine’s friend, my goodness almost all of them end up badly.

#27: Have you ever wanted to eat an artsyle? I loved it’s art wow, idk why but the sketch looks was really great. The story is really simple, but I really liked it’s ending, Jacko just wanted an hug and John was just: “Aight”

Wasn’t expecting to see people from the LGBTQ+ and they are just normal fellows (I really liked what Rey said about aids since he was right), I was pleasantly surprised (because of the comic’s age)

Sorry for the rant and thanks if you read the whole thing.

[bumblecrisp]

OHHHH MY GOD. oh my god. i have been waiting for this day.

I LOVE JOSEPH JOESTAR. he is my husband. we have been married for 47 years (about two months).

ok let’s start with the obvious. he is so fucking stupid. i like that in a man. he is so goddamn dumb he is an IDIOT💕💗💖💞💓💘!!!!!!!!!!! he has literally zero self awareness and that is deeply attractive to me 😁

not a thought behind those eyes. god bless

he’s really smart. now this might seem contradictory to point 1, but that’s exactly why i like him so much. he is a strategic genius, which combined with his ridiculous good luck makes him very successful in his endeavours. he is very intellectually smart but otherwise dumb - exactly my type lol

he is niceys‼️ bro is a rich white guy in the 1930s whose best friend is a black man (smokey brown, my beloved). they met when smokey pickpocketed him and joseph rescued him from the police and was like i like your vibes let’s hang out. he straight up attacked a guy in a public restaurant for being racist to him. but he also extends a sense of courtesy and respect to his enemies. he has a strong sense of justice and genuinely wants the best for everyone. he’s just a good guy ok.

acab. again he was way ahead of his time with this one

he’s so lame he’s just the worst 😩💕 like he’s sooo lame he can’t flirt for shit and i think that’s wonderful. he wants to be caesar sooooo bad

he’s cuuuuute he’s a cutie patootie! i personally am a pt 2 truther, i’m not really a gilf person, but he definitely has a tragic lifelong case of chronic babygirlism. he just has such a pokeable face, yk? he looks like he’d be fun to Annoy

also he’s 6’5”/195cm if that matters to you

and mega rich

i, personally, with respect, do not think i could ever date a 100% cisgender heterosexual man. while he does definitely look like a macho dude you CANNOT tell me there wasn’t something going on with him and caesar. he’s some flavour of queer i GUARANTEE IT. (personally i think he’s bi 😁)

this one doesn’t really do anything for me personally but i feel it would do him a disservice not to mention it. his stand creates vines which he can manipulate. do with that knowledge what you will

he has no fashion sense. look at this clown ass bitch. i NEED to m-[gets dragged offstage]

(i realize that this isn’t usually attractive to people. im just a little fucked in the head its fine 👍)

he is a douchebag. he’s loud and rude and boisterous and obnoxious and a little bit of a perv. but i like that about him. objectifying women is bad except☝️when it’s my pookie bear

he makes a fine ass woman and i’m tired of pretending he doesn’t. josie joestar can get it

like come on. she’s a smash for sure. (i should mention that, in canon, the whole ‘tequila joseph’ bit is clearly intended as a joke with transmisogyny as the punchline. that is, for obvious reasons, bad. however, i would argue that it is in this case a reflection on the author rather than joseph himself. in fact, given the strict gender-enforcing laws of the time, the fact that this was joseph’s first idea speaks to an surprising [for the time, in mainstream society] level of openness to exploring/playing with gender. or maybe im losing it idk)

crop tops.

i love him so much he’s the dumbest man alive and he deserves the entire world ☺️

Why do people find Joseph Joestar attractive? I always thought he was a douchebag, but that might just be me. I would like to hear the JoJo's fandom's perspective on the character because you guys seem to love him

Defend Your Blurbo #51

Please remember this post is about curiosity and genuine fandom discourse. Be kind with your answers because this is not a debate essay, this is a discussion between fans

Meet Joseph Joestar, the main protagonist of part 2 of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure and a side character of part 3 as Grandpa Joseph.

Have fun with this one. I have a feeling this will devolve into which version of Joseph is more attractive. So JoJo's fandom defend your blorbo

[jin0]

Your Friendly Neighborhood Sensitive Spider [TASM!Peter Parker]

Summary : Peter's senses are really easily overwhelmed. He always finds comfort in you. This time you're the reason of his sensitivity.

Pairing : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warning : 18+ ONLY, Minors DNI, smut, pure smut really, i can barely remember the plot, it's just filth, creampie, heats basically ??, primal kink, dark undertones, dub-con kinda, pet names (bunny), handjob, pussyjob, face sitting, cumplay, masturbation kinda, unprotected sex, rough sex, overstimulation of both peter and reader, manhandling of reader (peter basically doesn't stop fucking her), overwhelmed/oversensitive peter, titty worshipping (a teenie tiny bit), a lot of cum omg ?? genuinely, this is pure fucking smut, only that, kinda very precise description of physical features and sexual events ?? idk, please avoid at all costs if you think you might be triggered by any of these topics or the fic

A/N : did i write 10k plus words of smut ?? maybe... enjoy this because school is starting again and i bitch decided to pursue an education instead of running away in the wild

_________________________________________

Peter had always been very awkward with people and human interactions in general. It all came from his very good capacity to figure people out by simply looking at them. He was an incredible judge of character even before the spider bite and after that, it all turned into something else. That awkwardness of his had been turned into sensitivity, or even oversensitivity. He was easily stimulated by sounds, movements or smells and he had to learn how to live all over again.

Adaptation had been difficult at first but quickly he found tricks to work around life as discreetly as he could. One of these was you. You were the most efficient thing he ever came across when it came to calming his sensitive senses.

When he met you he’d could vividly remember having a terrible migraine because of the violence of all the noises around him. He had retreated to a secluded room, in an abandoned building on campus. He used it regularly to hide and was surprised to see someone in the room, you. You were sleeping on your bag and he wanted to leave but when he focused a little more, he was surprised to not hear a thing. He couldn’t hear the noises around except the sound of your soft breathing sounds.

He was absolutely flabbergasted, so much so that he rushed to you and kneeled in front of you to make sure he wasn’t going crazy. He even checked your pulse for you, completely ignoring your boundaries or personal space in the process, but making sure you were alive at least or not doing something to his brain. Weirdly enough, you had woken up a little surprised but not worried by the tall man looking frantically over you.

When you asked if he was okay, he leaped backwards. The whole move was very strange and when he thought about it, it was no wonder you’d guessed he was Spiderman. You had this effect on him, this hold on his senses and his mind, you just made it all so calm and effortless. He felt like he was seating on a cloud with soft satin pillows, heavy comforters and your soft legs wrapped around his waist. This was his happy place and every time he thought about it, he thanked his heightened senses for granting him the ability to feel it as if it was currently happening. He could feel the heat of your thighs on his palms, the scent of your collarbones and your soft and supple breasts serving as pillows for his face. You were his peace.

You made him feel so good, his entire body went numb to a point of losing the ability to think rationally. He remembered the things he would do when you two had become friends. Some random guy would scream and he’d start playing with your fingers. He’d be walking with you and a gust if wind would blow, his first instinct was to pull you towards him to have a little bit of your body heat. The sunlight would be too bright sometimes, he’d hide his face in the crook of your neck.

You’d grown use to it overtime, welcoming him with open arms. You had been able to understand the things that triggered him and would sooth his at the best of your capacities. Your favorite thing to do was bring his head to your shoulder and caress his hair softly while shushing him in a low voice. The low sounds brought him comfort and managed to drown everything around. You didn’t understand how but science wasn’t your things so you didn’t try to figure it out.

~

Peter’s need to physically feel you to be generally okay and able to go through his day without being the absolute worst often expressed in surprising ways. These ways you discovered them slowly, each and everyone of them slowly revealing themselves at the most random moments possible.

Again, you’d guessed he was Spiderman because this need to feel you prevailed over common sense. It happened on a Thursday night, you’d been writing an essay for one of your classes when you noticed the shadow of a figure in the distance. When you turned around, it quickly hid behind a wall. Now, the red fingertips and the fact that you lived on the fourteenth floor told you who it was very easily. You were no stranger to Spiderman and his weird way of appearing everywhere you were, but having him in front of your window was very new. Paying more attention to his physical shape, it was very familiar to you. Too familiar. You didn’t even think before pulling on his hand and bringing him towards you with a surprised expression mixed with a smile.

The moment you uttered his name, he wrapped you in his arms, falling on your floor and rolling around. He ripped his mask off and rubbed his nose on the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. He refused to lie to you, probably because he was incapable of doing so, and honestly, you already knew so he saw no point in fighting the truth. That night you stayed on the floor for a few hours before snuggling under your covers, still tangled in each other.

Now, to go back on topic, Peter Parker was one sensitive man just like he could find relief in you, you could also make it ten times worse for him at times. In these situations, you were the main trigger to his sensitivity and that he figured it out on one of the most random days of his life. On that fateful day he felt like he would die if he didn’t fuck you raw.

~

This had to be the worst fucking day possible to have superpowers. Genuinely, he was ready to trade body with whoever would be up for it. From the moment he woke up, he felt like his skin was burning all over. Covered in sweat and twisting uselessly, in hope of finding a little bit of peace and cold, he moaned out your name, begging for you to suddenly appear and save him.

"I... Fuck... I need my bunny... Where is she...?" He groaned, rolling around and searching you.

He’d managed to pull himself together just enough to get up and get ready but getting ready had been exhausting, his entire body feeling heavy and still burning as if he hadn’t spent twenty minutes under the most freezing shower ever. While on his way to the train station, he noticed that his senses seemed to be dulled, the sewer stench common to the streets of New York weirdly absent. His vision was blurry enough for him to need his glasses, he was hearing everything but it sounded like he was wearing earplugs and everything he touched felt sticky but distance. He was practically certain to be hallucinating half the things he thought he had touched.

Looking up from the floor, his head to heavy to be raised, he was attacked by something so familiar and good. The comfort he craved on a regular and specifically today. There you were, as beautiful as ever, your headphones wrapped around your head and your eyes looking off to the distance.

"Bunny..." He said softly, immediately feeling better.

He was pretty far from you, far enough to not usually be able to smell you but today he could. So distinctly, he felt dizzy the moment he took a big gulp of air. He could distinguish it all, separating each of the different things resulting in the most addictive smell he’s ever smelled in his life. The citrus from your body soap, the tropical fruits from your hair creams, the vanilla from your perfume, all of it was so vivid, attacking his nostrils and pulling him with force towards you.

He was like a lifeless being, incapable of thinking or seeing anything around him. He was surprised he didn’t fall or push anyone, skillfully dodging everyone around. He looked weird but clearly right now, it didn’t fucking matter, he needed to get to you. When he did, he couldn’t even speak, he simply grabbed your hand, pulling you towards him. He cradled your soft cheek, the warmth of your skin spreading against his palm.

His vision wasn’t blurry anymore, he could see very well, better than ever actually. He could also hear everything perfectly fine, most of everything being you and the sound of your heart beating, your breath speeding up or your blood rushing around your body. He could hear all of this vividly, all of you, alive and looking at him with that deadly smile of yours. He was crumbling, slowly sinking inside himself because of you. You were killing him, with your entire being and that he loved it. He’d never get enough if it.

"Fuck... Bunny, my bunny..."

He seemed to not give a flying fuck about the fact that they were outside, in public, in broad daylight and pulled you in for a desperate kiss. His lips covered yours in a matter of second, folding and molding around the shape of your mouth and sucking in the sweet taste of you. Shoving his tongue in your mouth, he held onto your jaw tight, forcing it open wide for him to invade you further.

You small hands were gripping on his shirt, trying to push him away slightly but failing miserably because you wanted him too. You always did anyways but you knew when was the time. The Peter kissing you right now, was scouring through your mouth, looking for you to fill his ears with those delicious sounds that only you could make. You knew what he wanted, he was moaning and groaning in your mouth and you could feel disapproving looks on your. You did what was best for you and your dignity, biting his tongue enough to hurt but not too much.

"F-Fuck ! Why ?! Need you bunny..." He whined, reaching towards your lips again but being stopped in his track.

"I know baby, but you can't just swallow my face in public... I promise I'll take care of you later."

When he groaned in displeasure, whining lowly before diving towards your lips again, you had to stop him dead in his track, laying a hand flat on his chest in a commending motion. He looked at you straight in the eyes and you noticed how far gone he was. It’s like he wasn’t there all together. He often got like that after sex but you a simple (not so simply, really) had him desperately needing you in the middle of the street. Something was clearly off but you would wait it out, maybe he would be back to normal in a few.

~

He was, in fact, not back to normal in a few. It actually got worst, way worse. By the end of the day, he felt like he was ready to pass out. His entire body was on fire, burning as if drenched in lava and he could barely move. He swung home because it would be faster but practically died hitting a few too many windows on the way. The moment he saw his apartment, he thanked his past self for keeping the window open and threw himself on his floor.

It felt cold and so comforting, he rolled himself around for as long as he could. Quickly, his long body covered his floor in heat and it became unbearable to deal with too. He threw his bag on his bed, completely ignoring the possible state of his laptop and other things. He let his cheek rest on the surface and let his body relax, feeling completely numb but a little better. The reoccurring memories of the day and the state he was in were playing in his mind. For the first time, you weren’t relief, you were the problem.

He had thought that his minor episode this morning, would be temporary and quickly dealt with. It was not. It increasingly got worst, his senses focusing entirely on you. He suffered through long hours of lectures, your scent sticking to his clothes and drowning him in need. He felt like you were everywhere on his, multiple versions of you clinging to his skin and whispering sweet and sultry words into his ear. He couldn’t feel you, skin hot and covered in this warm glow that broke him apart. He could barely see anything, the image of your sunkissed skin shining so bright he felt like he was floating around the sun. You were the sun to him anyways so it wasn’t too far from the truth.

It was like you were a siren, singing your best song to him, bringing him to his knees, ready to run away to the farthest corner of a forest and worship you for as long as you’d allow him near you. You were like an oasis in the hottest dessert there was, draining his life force. God, he was so fucking far gone, he could barely remember his name before yours.

“Pete ? You okay baby ?”

Jolting awake, he frantically looked around when your voice resonated in his head. He let out the neediest whine of pleasure mixed with happiness when he saw your gorgeous face come in view. There you were, looking down on him with worried eyes. He reached up, grazing his fingers on your cheek, nose and then lips softly. Parting them with his thumb, he shuddered when your breath hit his skin. You looked at him with sweet innocent eyes and he thought that would kill him but when you moaned through a whisper, practically inaudible to the average ear but not his, he jumped back, away from you.

He covered his face with his hands, muffling a scream that hid a desperate moan. What the actual fuck was going on with him ?! What was his fucking problem that he had to run away from you because touching your lips drove him crazy ?! He had to be mentally broken or something cause he felt his cock harden and violently twitch in his pants. Starting to breath heavily, he looked around his room for clothes to wear, he needed to change. Anything but fucking jeans honestly.

Reaching for them, he rips them away from his laundry basket with a hoodie to go with it before running to his bathroom and locking himself in. He let out a heavy breath, shivering in comfort at the feeling of the cold tiles under him. He delicately started to peel off his clothes, quickly coming to the realization that each time he brushed against his skin, he’d moan like a fucking idiot. He could feel your fucking scent on them and it’s like his clothes were begging to stick to his skin. He was going absolutely fucking crazy, last time this kind of shit happened, he’d been bitten by a radioactive spider specifically designed to give him superpowers. Maybe he had been bitten by another spider without noticing, that would be pretty logical considering the fact that the only thing he truly fully focused on here was you. Maybe the spider liked you as much as he did.

Once he’d finally managed to get rid of his clothes without moaning too loud, preventing you from hearing him, he sat on his floor, panting loudly, cheeks red and hips moving on their own. He could see the stain of his sensitive cock, dripping cum on the fabric of his boxers. Looking down towards the pulsating bulge, he could practically see your fingers wrapping around him and he instantly winced in both pain and pleasure at the thought. He cupped his thick girth and rubbed it against his warm palm, begging for it to go back down. He was moaning at each of the heavy rubs he’d leave on himself, your name sounding more and more like a plea than anything else. He was begging for you, cursing himself for not feeling so conflicted. He was ashamed of himself, red in embarrassment at his own actions but also feeling deprived and needy for more.

When he felt his hot cum spill out of his cock and cover his boxers, he let out a sigh of relief, eyes crossing at the wave of pleasure spreading through him. He let it all sink in, taking time to relax a little bit before going back out there.

“Peter ? You okay in there ? Do you need my help ?”

He snapped his head towards the door, his relaxation dissipating quickly and being replaced by his previous mood. He was back to square one, needy and pulsating in his pants like a fucking teenager, at the simple sound of your sweet, sweet, sweet angel like voice. You wanted to help, because you were that good, perfect even. A perfect, perfect girl for an imperfect boy who was being crushed under the weight of his heightened senses and the rough consequences they had on his sex drive.

You could help. You could save him even, oh that you could. You and those sweet lips of yours, you could help him greatly. You just needed to get on your knees and let him fuck your throat so hard, you’d feel your own vocal cords move against the tip of his cock. Or did he want to fuck that sweet velvety pussy of yours with his tongue ? Yes he did. He wanted to taste your insides, attach his tongue to your walls and engrave that honey taste in his head. He wanted to bury himself in you too, oh god he wanted that. He wanted to burn your feel on him, god he was ready to carve your name in his skin. It would heal but he wanted you wrapped around him, he wanted to be absorbed by you, completely nestled in your body, in your DNA.

He was fucking insane, completely off his rockers. He needed therapy and a shit load of medication clearly. Maybe a mental institution too, maybe that would fix him, if he could be fixed. If he wanted to be fixed. He was obsessed with you, his body craving your entire existence like an asthmatic would crave air. He was absolutely gone, lost in the ocean that you were, so wide and big and tempting. As anyone ever wanted to drown ? Because he did, he wanted to drown in you.

Quickly shuffling around to get rid of his boxers and slipping in the sweatpants, he opened the door to be faced by your worried face. He gave you his best smile (he looked absolutely fucking crazy) before swerving around you, trying to avoid touching you or breathing in your scent. He’d need to take extra precautions to not let you see through his desperation to fuck you.

~

As soon as he started his little scheme to appear normal in front of you, he was attacked by a new wave of arousal, heat burning him from the inside and jumping out of his body like a violent beast. Looking at you, smelling you, hearing you, all of this was tickling the salacious thoughts in his mind. They were bringing those images lf your naked body rubbing against his to life.

Come on Peter…

Don’t you want to play with me ? My pussy missed you so much.

Felt so empty without you and your cum Pete…

Please baby… Please, suffocate me… I want your cock in my throat…

Peter… Please love, look at my tits… All pretty and lonely, they need you…

I need you… Don’t you need me Peter ?

God, fuck… Yes he did ! Yes he needed you ! More than anything ! He couldn’t express the visceral need he had to scream than he needed you at the top of his lungs. He was ready to lose his voice and vocal cords to say that he needed you wrapped around him. He wanted to feel you all over, be in you skin, invade your every cell.

Thinking like a beast in heat, he couldn’t handle the additional feelings invading him when he noticed that he could feel your arousal. He didn’t know where it came from and honestly, he couldn’t care less. All he knew was that he was smelling the sweet scent of your leaking pussy and he was very close to jumping on you and feasting on your wet folds until he quenched his thirst. He was desperate, for release, he needed you to heal him, save him from his misery.

Rubbing his long body on the mattress, praying for a little friction to free him from his torture, he whined when his skin brushed against yours. Your exposed thighs, soft against the back of his hand, he could feel the heat of your body on his. That heat, he could recognize it anywhere, it was even frightening how he found himself seeking it. Burning hot like lava and turning his entire being into a pile of ash, you were like a volcano. That heat, he couldn’t get used to it, he was responsible for it, that lust pumping through his veins every time you touched you. You were needy for him but you could contain yourself. Now he couldn’t.

Laying his heavy head on your exposed thighs, he rubbed his nose on your flesh, inhaling the scent of your core and drinking it the aroma he could taste on his tongue. His mouth was watering at the thought of your drenched folds coating his lips and entire face. He wanted you to sit on his face, right now.

He distanced himself, practically falling off the bed and ripping his sweatshirt off before throwing it in a corner if the room. That was probably a stupid move on his part because he was now shirtless, erection in full view for you to see and fawn over. You always enjoyed the whole gray sweatpants thingy but never that much until Peter. With him it was a whole different story, no amount of boxers would be able to hide what he had to offer and clearly he opted for the no boxers alternative.

Biting your lip, you hoped he couldn’t see how drenched your panties were already. You were a terrible person maybe. Your boyfriend was in pain, suffering from an unknown illness and needed as much comfort as he could get but you still found time to drool over his barely covered body. You were, indeed, a terrible person.

Looking at him with an amused smile, you slid your hand in his hair, scratching his scalp and soothing his inner turmoil a little. He couldn’t understand what was going on and he didn’t feel like it right now, you could feel that. You knew he needed you but you didn’t want to press him, you wanted him to come to you. And seeing how touchy he was being, you knew you wouldn’t wait long. You jumped slightly when he violently ripped himself away from you to crawl to a corner in the room.

“Oh my fucking God ! Peter are you okay ?! Do you need me to call somebody ?! Maybe Gwen, she has medical or scientific expertise !” You blabbered, panicking at his sudden actions

“No ! Please no ! Do not call… Call anyone… I’m g-good…” He begged, eyes screwed shut and trying to peal his clothes off as if the were his skin.

He threw his head back, resting it against the wall and spreading his legs wide. He couldn’t move anymore, he was breathless, horny and exhausted. If he moved, he felt like he was in a burning shower the water sucking out every drop of water in his body. He was desperate now, or at least more than he was before. He couldn’t handle this sudden new development in his body. He didn’t care if it meant he was dying or something, he just wanted help.

You got closer to him, placing yourself between his legs and laying a hand on his thighs while the other cupped his cheek tenderly. You were worried, hell probably more than simply worried. He could feel it, and he could feel your throbbing cunt from where he was. It was as if your body was vibrating at a frequency that only him could feel and it was torturing him. You were like a siren screaming in his ears to tell him that you needed him to fuck you badly. He who found comfort in you most of the time was being tortured by you too at the moment. The irony of the situation was very unpleasant.

“Baby, please… Tell me what you need... I can’t stand watching you get all weird and sickly without being able to help… I’m not the best scientist but I got Google for that… Please let me help.” You pleaded with that deadly sweet voice. He was being physically suffocated by the honey that your voice was, drowned like a bee that got too close to Paradise.

Looking at you, his brain suddenly shut off completely, the fight against insanity lost miserably. He fought long and hard but clearly, this enemy was too strong, the enemy was you after all. He looked down at the prominent bulge showing through his sweats, if we could call this a bulge. He couldn’t distinctly see the shape of his girth through the fabric, practically begging to come out. He hissed, almost painfully, at the vibrations of his member, looking up to your sweet face in awe.

He was practically crying for help, anything to calm him down. He was conflicted, wanting you close but knowing that it would only make him feel worse. He retreated further in the corner, wrapping his body in his arms and blinking back the weird haze he was in. His breath was loud and short. It sounded strained and come out with difficulty, as if breathing made him suffer. And it did, every breath he took, carrying with it the memory of what you tasted like. He could feel your taste in his mouth when he breathed and it would rush down straight to his cock every time.

“P-Please… Please I can’t… I can’t do this a-anymore… I can’t stand it…” He cried softly. Your worry skyrocketed and you tried to get closer to hug him tight but he jerked, rejecting your hands on him. “I… I need… I need you to leave… Or to just… J-Just let me fuck you… I promise I’ll be good, and I’ll clean you up after but please… Choose for me…”

You looked at him with loving eyes, the worry dissipating and allowing you to nod slowly towards the option he was silently begging for you to pick. Letting his body move on its own, his large hands slid under the hem of your skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and hoisting you up effortlessly. You yelped, your hands shooting up to his shoulders as he sat you on his lap, carefully positioning your core over the wet patch formed by the tip of his cock. He bit the inside of his mouth, keeping his own needy moans to himself as his started grinding against you.

“P-Pet-“ He was quick to shut you up, two of his fingers finding refuge in your hot mouth, pressing down on your tongue.

“Don’t… Don’t fucking say a word…” He groaned, looking attentively at your bodies moving in sync. “Fuck… Do… Do you have any idea of how much I wanted my cock stuffed in that pretty pussy of yours today…? I barely got though the fucking day, thinking I was going fucking crazy… Never been so fucking sensitive before, fuck…”

His free hand grabbed your waist, holding it tightly and pushing you down harder. He couldn’t feel the pulsating of your folds on his bulbous tip, body your centers, leaking and wiping over the other. He should’ve been ashamed by the wet patch on his joggers but he was too busy focusing on the thought of you riding him while he kept his mouth stuffed with your panties.

He groaned in pleasure, a little louder than he was already doing, when he felt your soft fingertips on his wrists, wrapping tight around it to pull your fingers out of your mouth. He looked up at your face and felt his body melt under your gaze, eyes soft and loving but also sharing pure lust and pleasure. He couldn’t see them try there hardest to not cross in pleasure, something you did that absolutely drive him crazy.

Whining into the palm of his hand, you licked the tip of his digits sensually before diving them low against your body. You ‘et go of his wrist to let him do what he wanted, simply lifting your skirt to show what he’d been truly looking for.

“Oh fuck…” He exhaled, looking down at you as if you’d shown him the Holy Grail. His fingers slid under the elastic of your panties slowly before ripping them off of your body in one singular motion. Caressing your exposed hips and your uncovered ass, his fingers dove down on your folds, sliding in between the flesh and stroking his fingers back and forth. You threw your head back in pleasure, his thumb rolling around your pulsating clit.

He was absolutely mesmerized, practically forgetting everything around him. His fingers were drinking in the sensation of your juices coating his fingers. His senses were on alert but not for danger, for more of you. The needed to feel you all over, to have you wrapped nicely around him, sucking out every drop of energy and possibly life even. He was ready to give his life force to you at this exact moment. Was he okay ? Probably not. Did he really care ? Absolutely not.

Raising you up once again, he threw you over his shoulder, inhaling the scent of your wetness coating your inner thighs. His fingers were quick to come play with your exposed mound, gathering your slick and licking it off of his fingers. He walked, painfully hard erection visible through his sweatpants still and ready to be tended to. That would need to wait, for now, Peter needed to do something first, he’d been thinking about it for too long to simply ignore it.

Laying you on the mattress, on your back, you watched attentively, finally able to fully see his face. He looked absolutely magnificent even when the exhaustion was clear on his features. His lips, red and plump, were parted, air coming out in heavy breaths while he tried to focus. His face was flushed, red and sweaty, he tried to calm himself down, you could feel it. He was battling with his needs.

When you reached up to him, he pulled you forward by the wrist, forcing your chest against his as he hungrily kissed you. Your lips tasting like sweet, fresh berries, he bit on your flesh and swallowed the surprised moans coming out of you. How could you not be surprised when the man you loved was practically swallowing your face, ripping the literal oxygen out of your lungs ? You couldn’t, not when he was acting as if the universe had deprived him of you.

His hand slid down your back, pushing you against his chest and pressing his lips further against yours. His tongue, warm and wet, was diving deep in your mouth, licking as far as he could reach and sucking in your delicious taste.

He was overwhelmed by the sensations he was feeling and the ones you were feeling. He could feel it all, everything was ten times worst than usual, everything was enhanced. His senses were being drowned by your intoxicating scent, your sweet taste, the soft feeling of your skin and the siren like sound of your voice. All of you was pushing him down a cliff, hell, he was jumping down himself, willingly and expecting the result eagerly.

“P-Peter… Peter wait… C-Can’t…” You moaned in his mouth, trying to pry him away from you, loosing air fast. He didn’t let up, taking your jaw in hand and keeping you close to him until he felt you truly loose air.

“Sorry…” He apologized without really meaning it. He was staring at your lips and probably wanted more of them but you were panting hard, trying to catch your breath in his arms.

Ignoring you, his kept himself busy by rubbing his nose against the veins of your neck. His nose, inhaled that specific smell that only you had, trying to engrave it into his senses.

Suddenly straightening himself, he swallowed hard, as if he was on the verge of tears. You observed his movements, your eyes doubling in size, when he ripped his sweatpants off of his own body and tossed the shredded fabric on the floor. You were so surprised, you couldn’t even pay attention to his throbbing cock, pulsating against his stomach. You didn’t know if you should’ve focused on that or the fact that the act in itself had you clenching your thighs desperately. You sometimes forgot how strong Peter was and all the things he could do to you if he wanted.

Feeling how aroused you just got at the display of physical strength, he gave you one of those dopey smile he gave when either tired or extremely horny. You loved it so much, you wanted to coo at him but he was quick to remind you of his true intentions. Grabbing your wrist, he brought your hand close to his girth and exhaled in pleasure, eyes rolling to the back of head when your fingers wrapped around him.

“Ugh… Fucking hell bunny… You’re killing me…” He whispered, voice breathless before you’d fully done anything.

You instantly knew what you had to do, his heavy shaft pulsating in your closed fist. You admired the shape of his cock, red and covered in past strings of cum, still leaking out of his tip. You could feel the blood rushing through it, the veins bulging out and vibrating on your skin. You looked up, meeting his dark eyes, telling you (more like begging or ordering you) to do something, anything. He would take anything from you.

You started stroking his cock, smiling with pride when he moaned your name loudly. It was strained, almost stuck in his throat, but he pushed it out at the feeling you’re your skin on his warm cock. He was finally reaching peace, getting closer to salvation at each of your moves. You got closer to him, still moving but changing pace to go faster, and laid your free hand flat again his chest. You felt his abs flex understand your fingers. He looked down on you, ignoring his hips as the started to fuck your fist nice and slow.

When you started pecking his exposed chest, he knew he would spend the rest of the night doing the countless obscene things he had in mind. He bit his lips, keeping in tears of pleasure that were threatening to spill out of his gorgeous brown eyes but letting the desperate moans come out without a care in the world.

He felt dizzy, from both pleasure and his eyes jumping between your hand on his dick and your lips on his chest. You were pecking high, living butterfly kisses on his collarbones before sliding lower on his torso. You were still looking up at him and he was slowly dying inside, feeling big load of cum about to burst out of his oversensitive cock.

“You okay baby… It’s okay… I’m here love, do what you want…” You muttered, your voice hitting his skin and traveling through his body at the speed light.

“Ah… Aahhh fuck… Please… Please I’m begging you… Please…” He didn’t know what he was begging for honestly but he just needed you to do something, anything. He was begging for anything from you, anything you could give he would take how of love and pure lust.

Holding the back of your nape, he caressed your nape tenderly, his hips still moving and fucking himself inside your closed fist. His moans echoed louder around the room, perfectly in sync with the movement of your wrist and the soft kisses you left on his skin.

Seeing his cum shoot out to cover parts of your face and your covered breast drove him even deeper down the hole of insanity he was sinking in. Vision so blurry he was certain that he would faint soon, he let loose, loud and lustful moan escaping his swollen lips. Both red like cherry, you looked up at him as he unconsciously kept moving his hips against your palm.

You felt it, he needed more and he wouldn’t need to tell you, his stiff and throbbing cock would do the job. But you were prevented from really doing anything or even thinking clearly about what you wanted to do to him. He took control fast by lifting you off the mattress and carrying you against his chest again. He took you place, sitting down on the bed and putting you on his lap.

He was moving with both control and pure instinct, looking like an animatronic, wired and programmed to work a certain way. He was indeed, working fast and eagerly, searching for the next target of his assault to your body. He was served with everything he craved the whole day and could barely think about where he wanted to start.

His dilemma was quickly resolved by the subtle moan that escaped your beautiful lips when your when your leaking cunt rubber against his veiny girth. Feeling the wetness coat him all over, he couldn’t help but drool shamelessly at the thought of having it in his mouth. Yeah, he wanted you to sit on his face still. So he laid on the covers and at your confused glare, he simply pulled you by the waist all the way to his face.

“Oh my fucking God ! Peter what the fuck are you doing ?” You exclaimed, worried that you’d suffocate him to death. He had super strength but still very much needed to breath.

You seemed reticent but did not move, keeping yourself above his face rather than sitting on it like he desired. When he tried to pull you all the way down, you glared at him, pushing his hands away from your body. Deciding against the rational part of him that refused to manhandle you, he let the primal need in him to have your sweet juices pooling all over his lips take over.

Grabbing your wrists forcefully in one hand, he wrapped his arm tight around your waist, forcing you to move at his will.

“Listen to me and listen to me well bunny.” He ordered, looking both controlled and wrecked. “I’ve spent the entire fucking day feeling everything you felt times fucking ten and not even you could calm me down. The only fucking thing I want right now is that sweet pussy of yours all over my mouth so either you sit on my fucking face or you run away as fast and far as you can before I actually start considering doing all the most disgusting and unsanitary things I have in mind.” He threatened, eyes big and dark, showing the absolute lack of restraint behind them.

You stared at him, completely in awe at the bluntness of his words. Peter gad always been pretty honest about the things he wanted to do to you, never ashamed to tell you how hard you made him on a regular. But here, he looked too fucking tired to even speak it, wanting to act rather than explain himself. This Peter would clearly do all the dirty things you wanted him to do more, the things he’d rarely try, too scared of hurting you.

He looked at you, unmoving but still holding you with a firm grip. He wasn’t going to move until you gave him an answer, or at least he thought he wouldn’t until you arched your back and tried to bite back a moan. Oh yeah, he was way past thinking clearly or asking for permission now. Now when your pussy was calling out for him.

In a few swift movements, you ended up fully sat on his handsome face, quickly losing the fear of crushing him when his wet tongue slithered between your folds. You threw your head back and arched your back once more, this time fully screaming your pleasure in the comfort of his room. Your hand grabbed pieces of his hand, pulling on it at each flick of his tongue. You could only shake over him, feeling jolts of electricity run through you when his breath hit your clit.

“Oooh ! P-Peter, fuck ! A-Aaahh… F-Fuck me !” You wailed, wiggling on him and quickly regretting it when it only made his tongue move deeper inside you.

You’d never expect for his breathing to do this kinds of things to you but here you were, moaning his name louder and louder, chanting it like a prayer even. His firm grip on your thighs made it all too much for you feeling the pad of his fingers burn through your skin. You would feel his hands for days, that was for sure. Even more when you knew he wasn’t anywhere near ready to let you go.

~

As the minutes passed, they quickly turned into hours. Hours sitting on your boyfriends face, fucking yourself on his tongue.

He’d kept his abuse constant, needing a little more each time you came. He was hungry for more, turning into a very distant version of himself, one that couldn’t control himself and his urges. His five senses were all pointing towards you, focused entirely on you and the pleasure he was giving and receiving from you. Feeling your full thighs around his face, tightening a little more each time he let his tongue wander towards your clit, he couldn’t keep himself from getting greedy. He tried to think but his mind was blank, only knowing your name and the different ways he could use to please you.

“F-Fuck ! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ! Oh, fucking God, Peter !” You moaned, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

His face was red and had been red for a while now but it was also glistening under the lights of the room. He was messy and needy, letting your juices coat as much space as possible on his face. You scent was overwhelming, burying all there was around under you and your aroma. He was going to remember how you smelled for days, maybe weeks and if he was lucky, it would last for even a few months. He’d have in engraved in his brain if he could, he was already contemplating not showering to keep your sweet scent on him for as long as possible.

You were now completely bare, your naked body rubbing riding his mouth at the best of the capacities you had left. You were exhausted and your thighs had given up on supporting you a while ago. Trembling and tender, each time you tried to pull away to let him breath a little at least, he’d responded with a deep grunt and bit your inner thighs as a warning that you listen to diligently. You weren’t going to risk cumming from it once more, the first time violent enough for your clit to throb at the memories only.

One if your thighs had been free from his iron grip on it but your skin was left shaped like his hand for a few seconds before returning back to it’s normal state. When he looked up at you and saw your swaying breasts, he needed to see more. He ripped your blouse open and took it off your body before tossing it somewhere. He was about to do the same to your bra but you stopped him to take it off yourself, remembering how he’d ripped your panties and skirt off of you. Poor clothes, you liked them. They would be missed.

When your exposed tits came in view, he freed one of your legs to wrap his slander fingers around your soft and warm flesh. He palmed it vigorously, eyes still trained on you and watching each of your reactions attentively. You were crying his name in pleasure, grabbing his wrist when his thumb started twirling around the pointing bud. He couldn’t help but need more. He’d never been this greedy before and each record he would hit would be topped a few minutes later.

He sucked and swallowed your slick, feeling it run down his throat and allowing him to fill his stomach with you and you only. You were the only meal he needed, the only one he wanted. He was reminded of that fact a little more each time you came hard on his face, the beautiful memory of you squirting just as destructive for him.

“P-Pete ! Baby, p-please… Please just… J-Just aaah ! Ah, fuck, oh fuck ! Oh, God, please ! Please ! P-Peter, peter ! Oh fuck, Peter !”

He smiled under you, his name never sounded better, never sounded sweeter. He was groaning and grunting into your wet mound, letting your folds quiver on his mouth, his tongue still gathering your juices with enthusiasm. He was only made to pleasure you at the moment, completely disregarding his aching cock. He couldn’t even feel it at this point. He was still throbbing violently and he was redder than before. The veins around him were pulsating more than even, strings of cum leaking out if his tip.

He wasn’t touching himself and you couldn’t touch him either but he was still cumming as much as his body could, white creamy ropes coating his chest and your lower back to drip over your ass. He could see it in the mirror in front of the bed. He had stopped counting the amount of times you came or the amount of time he did. He simply let it happen, moaning desperately in your cunt each time. His body had started to act on its own, sensitive and searching for more raw pleasure to feast on.

Tears of overstimulation were pooling out of your eyes, silently crying as he moved your hips on his own to ride his face, your eyes crossed and rolled to the back of your head. You were being tortured, his soft lips, wrapping around your clit and sucking onto it again as he felt you violently shake, sign of another orgasm coming fast.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god, o-oh fuck ! Oh, no, please, please, please, please ! P-Please I can’t take it !” You begged loudly, you wouldn’t be able to take another orgasm. You knew you wouldn’t, your poor body wouldn’t be able to take it.

You were crying out for it to not happen but your body was moving in the other direction, hips jerking and thrusting yourself on his tongue. You couldn’t take more but he wasn’t asking for permission anymore, he needed it, craved it desperately. Your cum all over his face, he would get it. And he did. You bounced on his tongue, letting it twirl inside your walls and suddenly be covered by a waterfall of your wetness.

“A-Ah ! Fu- Oh god, fuck ! A-Ahn Peter ! Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter, Peter !” You sung, loud enough for anyone who paid attention to hear.

He did, he paid attention and his cock couldn’t take more of this, you broken voice crying out his name in both pleasure and sensual agony. You came hard and fast, and so did he, hot cum shooting out oh his sensitive head and falling on your back. The vision of your back covered in him did something to his brain, he had a new interest, finally.

Your body fell limp in his arms, head bobbing around as if you were unconscious and you couldn’t support yourself anymore, you were fully broken now. Poor bunny, he wasn’t done with you. He needed more, but the little voice in him that could still think things through promised to take good care of you for the next days. That was if he was finally calmed down and if you allowed him to touch you.

You leaned back, supporting yourself on his chest and slowly cried at how wrecked you were. You’d made fun of him internally earlier and now you were probably worse than him. You whimpered softly when his groans his your sensitive center. When his hands grabbed your waist, you were scared that he wasn’t done eating you out, you couldn’t take more honestly. You weren’t even sure that you wanted him to fuck you now. Maybe, you didn’t know. Your brain was too scrambled to think about it.

Suddenly laid on your back, your boyfriend wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed your forehead, cheeks and nose. His lips lingered on you and brought a wave of warmth all through your body. You felt comfort again, peace and quiet.

Kissing the side of your face, his current mission was simply to call you down a little before stuffing himself deep inside you. He was still too out of it to function properly, his body still running purely on instinct. He simply did what his oversensitive senses told him. They told him you needed to be calmed a little, and that’s exactly what he would do.

He was fast to feel a wave of need take over in his mind. Brought at a crossroads, he had the choice between ruining your sweet cunt again and probably be banned from touching you in the future, or lock himself in the bathroom and try and call his aching member while you slept. Rational Peter would’ve chosen A while also considering B, because he was a considerate boyfriend. Now, Irrational Peter was an animal clearly, incapable of pushing his urges away and thinking things through. He was choosing A without a second thought. He’d make it up to you however you desired.

His lips wandered lower, finding your breasts and taking one of your nipples between his teeth while your other breast was vigorously squeezed by his other hand. Drunk on the feeling of your warm flesh in his mouth, he sucked long and hard, his tongue rolling around the sensitive bud before letting go in a wet sound and turning towards the other. This time, he only used his mouth, ha ds wandering lower to palm the flesh of your ass and thighs. He was close to cumming again, just from the things he was doing to you and he wanted to make sure that make you cum with him.

Standing straight, he grabbed the back of your thighs and rubbed his erected girth on your swollen clit. Your cries of pleasure erupted again, only fulling his thirst for whatever you had to give. Yeah, we already established that he was greedy.

“P-Peter please… N-No… No more edging… Please baby, I-I… I promise I’ll be good... Please... No more ! Please, d-don’t tease me no more !” You sobbed softly, clawing at his lower stomach, to pull him forward but also push him backwards.

Looking down at his own cock, he watched it drip droplets of cum on your folds, he was hypnotized by the vision. He backed up slowly, still holding your thighs apart and positioned himself at your entrance. You whined and squirmed beneath him, trying to get him inside as soon as possible. He chuckled lightly at your eagerness before thrusting deep inside you in one rough move.

He let out a groan, mouth falling open and eyes crossing as they rolled to the back of his head. He was feeling everything all at once, close to cumming only from this. He tried to get his thoughts together but he couldn’t, it was so hard, you felt so good. So, so, so good. He was keeping tears of pleasure to himself, cock so sensitive, he felt like it would explode. He lowered his face and his eyes juggled between your face and your pussy, swallowing him whole and ripping away all he had. Yeah, take it all, take everything from him.

Backing up, he repeated the motion, stretching your insides and engraving the feeling of his pulsating veins on your warm velvety walls. His pace only got quicker from there, the sounds of your cries of pleasure only matched by the sound of his skin slapping against the back of your thighs. The sensation was burning your sensitive body, still tender from the grip he’d kept on your flesh only minutes ago.

Your vision was unfocused, eyes going everywhere frantically, searching for something to focus on, to keep you steady. You couldn’t look at him, not now, not when you were so weak to his every move. Everything he did to you was piling up, all the emotions and sensations crumbling on you all at once. You could barely process one that the next was erupting inside you. You knew that if you looked at him, his expression would only make it worst.

You always loved how he looked when he was fucking you but it was ten times more arousing for you when he was overwhelmed, which was practically all the time. He’d always groan your name louder and louder, big brown eyes drowning you both in a pool of lust. You couldn’t even deal with the memory of his face.

“F-Fuck… You feel this bunny ? My fat cock… It’s spreading you so wide… Bet you can feel it all the way in your tummy…” He groaned, leaning forward and pecking your puckered lips.

You were always needy for his kisses and he was always glad to give you as many as you wanted. He was yours to play with, and you always did so much for him, he would never refuse you anything, out of gratitude, boundless loyalty and love. He chuckled at the thoughts he was having. He could still find it in him to be a sap, even when his brain could barely process daily words or actions at the moment. Love would do that to you.

His body got closer to you, lowering himself on you and plowing deeper and harder in your tight heat, living for the various ways you’d scream his name.

“P-Peter ! Oh, oh my… Oh fuck, more ! Peter, more please more baby ! More ! Peter please !” You sobbed into his ear when he nestled his head in the crook of your neck to bite your collarbones hard enough to leave a mark.

He was close, dangerously close. He was actually surprised he managed to hold out for that long, and just as surprised that you did the same. Working himself inside you, he started sucking on your skin and biting it all over, one of his hands letting go of your thigh and placing itself on your stomach to press your belly. He could feel the tip lf his cock violently poking through.

Pushing your legs on your chest, the change of angle gave him access to the perfect spot inside you, the one that would have the neighbors complaining despite the diy soundproof padding of his apartment. He would probably need to invest on a new bedframe too, the one he owned currently, threatening to split in too as his rough hip thrust made the bed shake and slam on the wall. Lucky him, he was holding you, if he’d been holding the head if the bed, he would’ve ripped it apart himself.

“Oh god, oh, god, oh Peter, God ! Please, I’m s-so, so fucking close oh please !” You begged, tears spilling all over your flushed cheeks.

“F-Fuck… Bunny, please, give it to me… Come on bunny, one more… Just one more…”

Your high came surprisingly fast, surprising the both of you and raining over you in a sweet shower of pleasure. You arched your back, biting one of the most obscene noises you’ve ever made. You gripped on the bedsheets, ripping them apart too in the process. You’d barely processed your own orgasm that the man above you followed quickly after, filling you up with him cum, warm and thick, coating your walls and invading your entire being.

You whimpered, breathing with difficulty and trying to gather yourself. You couldn’t, not when he was still holding you and still going. You looked at him as if he’d grown a new set of arms and three heads. He attempted leaned down, kissing the side lf your jaw and chuckling in your ear when you whined in displeasure.

“Sorry baby… I’ll take good care of you, I promise…”

“I… I hate you…” You sobbed silently. Yeah, you should probably cancel your plans for the rest of the weekend.

~

Many hours later, you didn’t understand how you were still standing, or in this case, kneeling. Holding yourself on all fours, your body was rocking back and forth, at the rhythm of his thrust inside you. You could do it anymore, you couldn’t take more, nothing in this world could take this much, human or not. This man was insane, this was evident now.

You would need to make a run to the pharmacy for the morning after pill. Your birth control could definitely not take the amount of cum he’d fucked in you, and you loved him but neither of you were ready for a baby, even if you enjoyed the thought of having one and the process too.

The sheets were ruined, cum and drool all over them, adding to the many holes you both tore in the fabric. No washing could save them either, he’d get new ones and hopefully they would get treated better.

Peter was probably just as wrecked as you but clearly not exhausted in the slightest and definitely not bothered by the state if his body. His skin was covered in various marks that could’ve been given by some kind of enemy he fought in his red and blue costume. You’d given him these marks, biting on the skin of his collarbones, his jaw, his ear, his shoulders and honestly anywhere you could reach. He’d let you mark him however you pleased, a small price to pay for what he did to you. Even the bloody lacerations on his back were definitely worth it to him.

He felt a little guilty but never enough to stop, not when you sounded so good moaning his name. Nothing could get him down that high he’d been stuck in the entire day. He tried to calm himself down at times but nothing would be enough, nothing would quench his thirst for you and your body.

Gripping on your hip and slamming his cock deep in you, your ass bouncing on his lower stomach, he could feel himself cumming once more. He watched you reach forward, as if trying to run away, you’d done it a few times already and he pulled you back by the ankles each time. Your face fell, burying itself in what was left of the sheets and bite into them hard, saliva soaking them a little more when your mouth fell open and a scream hit the mattress.

“Good… Good girl, just one left… Only one left and I'm letting you rest baby…” He groaned, leaning over your back and kissing your nape tenderly.

“Aaaahhh… N-No… C-Can’t… N-Not anymore…” You muttered, voice broken and incapable of thinking about coherent words to moan.

His balls slapped against your folds, the sound of your wetness and his cum vibrating in his sensitive eardrums. He could still hear and feel it all, his senses pushed to the maximum of their capacities and suddenly going completely silent. He reached forward too, fingers grazing the soft skin of your arm to intertwine with yours and hold your hand tightly. His free hand wrapped around your middle, pulling you towards him. You soon both came, just as hard as you’d previously did, both your juices spilling out of your sensitive hole.

Your moans and his grunts quickly turned into loud sounds of breathing, your heavy breathing resonating in the room. He leaned his head on the back of yours, feeling a sense of calm and peace he’d craved for a long while. He was finally feeling better, all calm and not as overwhelmed as he had been previously.

A suddenly ray of light caught both your attention, your heads snapping towards the window. Your eyes widened as you saw the sun rise and peak through the window. You had fucked the whole night. The entire night, you had been turned over and over, your body stripped bare and abused non stop. The whole night. You sobbed in desperation and disappointment too. You didn’t really know why you were disappointed but you were, probably at the lack of self control. You boyfriend, on the other hand, was keeping in a laugh he knew would get him in trouble.

“I’m sorry… So sorry bunny… I’m so, so, so sorry… I promise, I’m sorry…” He muttered, kissing your neck tenderly.

You knew he only meant it partially, never truly sorry for the things he did to you. He loved how wrecked he made you and loved how dumb you got for him, he would get just as stupid for you. In thus situation, he’d been stupid horny from the beginning.

You both fell to the side, facing the window and the rising new day. You were starting to feel the exhaustion fall over you all at once and so was he. He yawned and you did the same, nuzzling your face in the pillows. His hand rested on your stomach, caressing it slowly and trying to massage your aching parts. He pecked your cheek tenderly, smiling to himself at how great of a girlfriend you were. Finally, he was calm again, after practically breaking your body, he was okay.

You would probably put him on a sex ban for the foreseeable future and it would be deserved. Now he understood why you were the one calming him down when overwhelmed by the world : you were the one with the common sense. When the spider parts became too much to handle, you’d handle it for him.

“Pete ?” You called out after a few minutes of silence.

“Hum ?”

“You feelin’ better ?” You asked softly, still looking out for him by being as quiet as possible.

He exhaled in your neck, feeling his heart thump in his chest. He was so in love for you, he could barely think. You were genuinely the best, still carrying about his wellbeing when you were hanging on the last ropes on consciousness. He raised himself slightly to bed himself forward and kiss your lips.

“I’m fine bunny… I might just need to do a few researches in my dad’s stuff, we wouldn’t want this whole thing to happen again, would we ?” He chuckled lightly, voice deep and resonating.

“No thank you. I’ll take the running away option next time.” You responded, side eyeing him. You loved him but absolutely not, never again (or probably at least once, it wasn’t that bad).

For the rest of the day, you caught up on sleep, still attached together and when he woke up, he found his father’s researches, discovering the cases of heats that spiders would go through, specifically the kind that bit him. Turns out, when location a pray to mate with, they get overwhelmed by a the sensations felt by the other, feeding of this connection to know exactly what to do. His already sensitive senses turned towards you only and seeking to please you.

Good to know, at least he knew that next time, he should read the entirety of his father’s researches instead lf skimming through them. Luckily, Peter was a fast learner. And he had the heightened senses to help.