#also makes my body pain so much worse idk i just hate this brain thing

[batz]

-

[bangtanfancamp]

Headed to the Mountains |KNJ

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•one shot

•Masterlist

•pairing: songwriter Kim Namjoon x oc with chronic pain

•word count: 3,465

•genre: escapism, hurt/comfort, smut, established relationship

•rating: MATURE/ 18+

•warnings: current event commentary, somewhat anti- American sentiment (I live in Texas so I see a lot of mess first hand 🫤 it’s my country but my god, it’s messy), stress, chronic pain, high sensitivity, sensory issues, first person voice, smut smut smutty smut, oral (female receiving and male), tandem oral, smex, doggy style?, Namjoon’s big brain during smex, smut with feelings and a lot of thoughts (as usual) ((all my air sign placements really coming out to play

•a/n: idk what this is, besties, besides extremely unedited and wildly indulgent. I may change the voice out of first person and all the “i’s” to “you’s” but it’s up the way it’s up for now. 🤷🏽‍♀️The world is just a horrifying place right now, especially in the US, and I just wanted to write something that felt like a small refuge, spend a little time some place that felt better, so we’re back in Namjoon’s living room. Also, who better to escape into the woods and away from reality with than the founder of namjooning himself ((also also, that bit about Pennsylvania was 100% true. It’s wild here, man))

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“I cannot get comfortable for the life of me,” I huff grumpily.

It’s a Monday night, late in March. The threat of rain has been looming for hours. Despite its sudden absence in the forecast when I check the weather app, I can still feel it in my bones. In the raw, creaky way my joints scrape against each other. The way the inflammation in my body burns like fire ants beneath my skin.

Namjoon is quick to notice from across the room.

“This weather’s been making your body feel like hell this spring.”

“Yeah, I hate to begrudge it though. Winter was even worse.”

“Gosh, it really was huh?” He frowns at the laptop screen on his desk. He’s got the tiniest beanie shoved on his very big head but somehow, it works. The tips of his hair peak past the beanie’s brim, brushing the mussed hair of his furrowed eye brows. “God, I can’t stand to stare at a screen a second longer.”

He peels his gold rimmed glasses off his nose, rubbing the little indentions they've made along the bridge and pressing his fingers into his closed eye sockets. I can tell he’s exhausted and miserable too about how much energy life seems to require of him these days.

“I’m going to scoop you up and make you the most comfortable woman in the world, I promise. Just give me like three minutes.” He tips back in his desk chair, the spine of it sliding out to a wide reclined angle as his long legs stretch out in front of him.

“Why did we spend so much money on a couch that’s not even comfortable, joonie?” I whine, shifting once again.

“Because the last one was even less comfortable than this one,” he reminds me, “and at least this one is cognac leather,” he shrugs. “It’s comfy on the eyes at least”

“Well I need it to be comfy for my bones.” I grunt, shoving yet another throw pillow out of your way. “Maybe we should pick up and move to the shore, like in a regency novel. I think the air would be good for me. I wonder if American healthcare accepts existential dread and deep chronic pain as enough of a reason to just financially support us until I turn to dust.”

“You and your TikTok algorithm both know as well as I do that America will do no such thing,” Namjoon chuckles with his eyes closed.

“I know…. But they should take at least some culpability. God knows most of my health problems probably exist BECAUSE of them.” I slide the strap of my bra and shirt off my shoulder, not because I want to be a seductress but because the elastic is cutting into my throbbing right trap muscle and if I don’t get some of the tension off of it, I might scream.

“Right? Did you hear about the latex spill in the Delaware river yesterday? The entire city of Philadelphia doesn’t have usable drinking water right now. My friend there literally got a text message about it from the city strongly recommending every use bottled water only until

Further notice. One and a half million people woke up to that text Message! It’s insane.” Namjoon pulls his oversized hood up over his beanie as he looks up at the ceiling, ankles crossed beneath the desk.

“Lord, haven’t we lived through enough of this? I’m so tired, joonie.” I can hear how pitiful I sound. To his credit, he treats me just the same as when I sound intellectually astute and strong. I’ve always liked that about him.

“If the world is going to hell in a hand basket anyway, maybe we should look into a- moving internationally and b- signing up for a payment plan on one of those YouTube influencer mattresses,” Namjoon tips his head my way, and suddenly my heart feels a little more light.

“Ooo, the helix?“ I smile, for perhaps the first time tonight.

His dark eyes twinkle in the low evening lamplight.

“ I actually did some research and found one made out of avocados.”

“Is that as close as I can get now that my body has decided it’s allergic to Avos?”

Namjoon’s eyes crinkle as he laughs. “God, your body would find a way to betray you like that wouldn’t it?”

“It’s not my fault I’m too delicate for this world,” I shrug.

“I forget you were born inside a flower that protected you from the world with its petals until it bloomed, thumbelina.”

“If I could take a nap inside a peony right now, I’d do it in a heartbeat…. The pollen might be too much though.” I sigh.

“Come here,” Namjoon laughs, standing from his chair and extending his hand toward me.

“Where are you taking me?”

I slip my knuckles between his and knock against his shoulder with my head.

“To my bumblebee. Take you on a spin around the block” he winks.

“I’m surprised you didn’t say take a ride. It’s like the only lyric you use these days” I snicker, bumping the curve of my hip into his.

“You’re supposed to write what you know,” he shrugs.” It’s not my fault your hips are your area of expertise.”

He winks at me and god, if he took every piece of clothing off of me right now, I’d ride him in a heartbeat.

Shit. Knowing him, he can probably feel my response to him without even looking at me. Sure enough, he looks down, smiling until his dimples dip in his cheeks, and damn it, I’m so captivated by the focaccia dough dips in his face that I stumble into the corner of the wall. My hip catches and I yelp, more embarrassed than in pain.

“Shh, hey, I got you.”

That calm voice of his is so low right now as his palm curves around the dip in my hip that got nicked by the wall. I tip into his long, warm torso and let him guide me into the bedroom. I’m clearly too disoriented and agitated to make it here without careening into something else and frustrating myself, so I’m happy for the assistance. Besides, being scooped up in Namjoon’s substantial hands is never a bad place to be.

“Thanks, baby. I needed that.”

I press my temple into his chest, kiss his ribs. Marvel at the resistance of muscle I feel beneath his soft green shirt. I press my nose into the fabric and let the warmth of him calm me. His other hand strokes soft knuckles along my jaw. His touch is so light and sweet - I feel my shoulders drop as he does it.

“Pick me up?” I whisper, eyes lifting softly to look up at him from where I’m pressed into his chest.

His hands slide up my sides, palms pressed into my waist as he lifts me. The soft grunt he makes as my thighs wrap around his ribs makes something in my brain feel a little fuzzy. Life is better like this, I think. Our faces nuzzled cheek to cheekbone, his hands fitted beneath my thighs, mine trailing softly through the silky bits of his hair peeking out of the back of his beanie as my arms drape over his shoulders like fabric. I can feel the knot of tension in the middle of my spine begin to untie itself as I melt into him. God, I’m so happy he exists.

“Where would you like to go, princess?”

Namjoon kisses the top of my ear, and that fuzzy tingle in my brain is back.

“What are my options?”

I press my lips softly to his throat in light, meditative kisses. They’re more like delicate exhales. My tongue barely tips out to taste his skin. Just a touch. Just a taste. Sleepy and slow because that’s all I have the energy for. His eyelids do that hazy half flutter that tells me he likes it enough to pretend he doesn’t so that I’ll keep going. I smile as he gently tips his head to the side, as if waiting for my answer, but really he’s just giving me more room to access that spot behind his ear that likes my lips. Let’s humor the man.

“We could go to the bed, the shower, the bath…” he gasps a little on the last word, the ah sound coming out too airy as I gently mouth at his pulse point and his grip on my thighs gets tense. “Or there’s a ….counter right here.” His head tips toward the half bath in the hallway as his fingers dig into the meat of my legs.

When I look up to meet his eyes, they’ve gone serpentine. Deep and dark and heavy as he holds me close. I can feel how shallow his breathing is becoming and I smile, sleepy and soft as he watches me.

“Take me to bed, Joonie.”

He’s kissing me before I can even finish his name.

He tips the door open with one of his feet before squeezing us both through the threshold of it. With his eyes closed and his tongue between my lips, he’s bound to crash into something and he does. He thunks an elbow, I knock my head, but in seconds, he’s cradling it where I’ve bumped the wall, spilling “sorry, I’ve got you, sorry,” onto my tongue as he pulls me in closer.

The spell doesn’t break.

He’s big and he’s bulky but he’s careful with me as he lays me on the bed and climbs over me. His mouth doesn’t leave mine even as he peels off each piece of my clothing. His movements are slow, his touch tender as he does.

Namjoon has learned how to soothe my body when it’s alert like this. Knows the cool air feels refreshing and crisp when my skin is hot with pain and sensitivity so he gets me naked with a deft touch. He knows the feel of his skin is grounding for me so that soft green shirt of his hits the floor. Knows I love his hair so the beanie goes next. Knows I love the strength in his thighs so his shorts are next as he tugs my hips down beneath his to let me wrap my legs around his slim waist.

I'm so wrapped up in the warmth of him that I don’t realize he’s tugged my silk pillowcase beneath my head. It’s cool when my head falls back and I smile, toothy and wide, as his plush lips sink into my skin. He’s at my collarbone now, then the volume of my breasts. His breath is warm, the air is cool and his substantial hands grip me firm like dough he’s being careful with as he kneads.

His cock brushes against me between my legs and the bright feeling it sends sparkling through me makes my breathing stutter.

“Joonie,” I shiver, and I can feel him smile against my skin. See his eyes flash up at me in the dark.

“We do too much, baby.” He breathes, voice smoky and low like the dragon he is.

I don’t know what he means. My critical thinking is losing its sharpness as he suckles warm and soft at the dip of my ribs.

“Too much?” I can feel my brows crumpling, but his tongue is so warm on my stomach that my hands dig into his shoulders without my consent.

He reaches up to brush one hand over mine.

“Shhh, easy. We’re trying to relax you, not tense you up.”

He’s smiling. I can barely see him but I can feel him and I know his grin would only dissolve me deeper into the mattress.

“We do too much, we deal with too much. God, your skin is too motherfucking much,” he squeezes me, latches his soft mouth onto my waist and tugs at the skin. I can feel the bruise blooming there, but he’s off and on to the next before I can even get words out. “Your body is always trying to process all of it, but it’s too much. Let me take care of some of it- let me help.”

When His tongue slips between my legs, his strong hands push my legs wide, press them down when he feels me buckle. His breath is so warm, his mouth is so molten, his nose on my clit is so gentle- it all leaves my body in an exhale. Tension drops off like melted wax and I feel myself go supple in his palms as I let him do what he wants with me.

“There’s been so much chaos. So much to deal with. So much to do. I just want to run away from it all with you.”

His tongue is languid as it works on me. The rush of warmth undoes the aches in my body better than a hot bath ever has.

“Then let’s go, Joonie. Where do you want to go? I’ll follow you anywhere.” And I mean it. They’re not lusty rambles. They’re not hollow words. I’d follow him to the edge of the world.

He puts that plump mouth of his over my clit and the gentle way he slurps me up melts my bones into soup broth and clears my head.

“You’ll let me take you anywhere?”

He looks up at me, his mouth never leaving his post, working me slowly as he waits for my reply. His mouth is so wet, his eyes are so sharp and my body is just another piece of music he’s learned how to perfect. I nod, bottom lip bit between my teeth and relax as much as I can as he composes a symphony between my legs. His smile folds the crinkles around his eyes, and his aura flickers between lovingly soft and steadily authoritative as he doubles down, wrapping his arms around my legs to scoop my hips up into his face and pressing into me, deeper, faster, harder.

I arch up when he does, gasping as my shoulders lift up, my fingers twist in the bedspread, my jaw goes slack. He’s really doing a number on me and all I want to do is say thank you and let him continue.

He slides up my body then, one hand behind my head bringing my forehead to his as the other grips my hip with enough pressure to split it apart as he tips his cock inside me in a way I didn’t know I needed. The sound is squelchy and wet and he smiles as his nose bumps against mine.

“You’ll follow me?”

He sounds cocky in a way he hasn’t in a while and a little piece of me loves it. His hips are fluid as his cock rocks in and out of me. All I can do is nod wildly, disoriented as I clutch him close to me. My legs are folded up, feet along his hips for purchase with my knees butterflied wide. I’d laugh at how much I must look like a frog if this didn’t feel so good. He’s got a hand beneath my bum, lifting my hips off the bend and gliding his cock so deep into me that surely my organs are all shifting wide like the Red Sea to make room for him.

“Wherever you want to go,” I hum, arms falling slack. I’ve lost the energy to hold on to him, but he’s got me held up so precious and tight that we’re still more intertwined than two fibers of thread in a tight knit sweater. I’ve fused into him and now every breath is in tandem.

“I’m gonna take my girl away from here.”

His thumb brushes my bottom lip and I feel myself flush at his tenderness.

“Yeah?” My eyes are wide, following his. He hovers above me, furrowed face sculpted with intensity and aggression as his body works mine into ecstasy. I’ve really acquiesced to the fact that I’m nothing more than a soft lump of clay in his hands that he’s working with precision. I’ve always wanted to be a work of art.

He slips my breast into his mouth like a lychee jelly, moaning at the feel of me tightening around him when he does it. Pumping harder, faster, deeper, only to pull out and dip his long fingers into the mess he’s made. He slathers it over all my sensitive bits, caressing with finesse as sparklers crackle in my vision.

When He pulls me up and into him, my face is pressed between his pecs and god, I can’t keep it together. I kiss them furiously as he works, clutching onto his arms, dragging my fingers down his abs as he slides his glossy fingers over my clit like he’s casting a spell. I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe… I can’t….

But I can because I have to- Namjoon won’t ease up until he gives me the sweet oxytocin of release by his hands and I wouldn’t have it any other way. So I dig deep and exhale slow and controlled, whimpering as he rockets past that orgasm to send me into preparing for the next one. He smirks like I’m his plaything and I comply with no resistance. I’ll have as many rounds as he gives me. I’m a big girl. I can handle- Oh!

At least, I thought I could handle anything. Naive me, I suppose.

I smile into the sheets when he tips me over onto all fours. He kisses my shoulders, kisses along my spine, brushing his thumbs on the folds on my hip, all tender and kind and syrupy sweet as the behemoth between his legs tips ever so slowly inside of me despite my incredible tightness, and I don’t know whether to breathe or scream so I press my face into the bedding and giggle like there’s something wrong with me.

“Take you somewhere quiet,” he slides in deeper. “With no noise,” he thrusts. “No news.�� He thrusts. “Just nature.”

My chest feels tight with affection but my body feels limps like a rag doll as he pumps me silly. His gargantuan hands holding up my hips are the only thing keeping me from sliding off the bed and melting into the floorboards.

“Joonie, i’d- I’d love that,” soft puffs of air leave me with each fluid roll of his hips. The snap at the end of the graceful flourish knocks my skull a little loose but I don’t mind. Thinking so little is really quite nice.

“Take you for walks, lay with you in nature, fuck you like this in an outdoor bath tub while we watch the stars.”

His hand glides down my spine as he paints beautiful pictures with his words. My heart and my body don’t know which way is up.

“Escape all this chaos. At least for a little bit.” He smirks. I catch a glimpse of it as I look over my shoulder, reach back to hold his hand.

“I might never let you drag me back to the real world.” My smile is gooey, fond and so is his now. His dimples have come out - all his sincerity and heart on display, as his hips still even as he still fills me up.

“I can write poetry in the wild,” he shrugs. “My music would probably be better for it.”

He looks bashful and soft. The juxtaposition of his strong body and sweet face make me dip forward. He slides out of me, watching with confusion as I guide him to stand beside the bed.

When I flip onto my back, letting my head loll backwards off the bed in front of him, he arches a brow at me. I just chuckle and pull him forward by the back of his legs.

“Come here. I want to make my own music.”

I take the length of him into my mouth and he topples over, hands bracing on either side of me on the bed. He groans so sweet and low that I smile as I take him deep. His knees buckle when my nose tips softly against his balls as I suckle him slowly and it takes everything in me not to laugh at how happy I am.

His hands travel my body as his mouth occupies itself. He makes a meal of my breasts, takes a drink between my legs, holds my throat to lighten my breath. When we cum in tandem, he collapses to my side as we catch our breath in silence.

The night is still, the air is cool and rain is finally trickling against the windows.

Our bodies are spent and our plan is set.

We’ll run away soon enough.

But now, cradled breast to breast, we sleep knowing our world is just the smallest bit brighter.

[werewolf-femboy-maid]

Day ??? of being a violent angry idiot :"(

Eh I was violent again and apparently me and my so enable each other :") at the very least I wasn't super violent and I did at least some push ups to help with the tension release

I really am grateful for myself for even trying still

I'm doing better with my parents and I'm very grateful for that. Yes I inherited my worst traits from them, but I see the human in them for that.

And as the days go by, I have been improving in reducing damage

I hate meds so much I hate the way they turn me into a puppet. I'll try meds one more time but knowing what I know, I probably just need the regenerative farming produce.

Dark leafy greens and citrus are your best friends.

There is so much to be rediscovered and discovered.

Of course I'm not saying don't take your meds esp if you're already on them. Like I don't have ocd but I know life is a lot worse without meds with ocd.

Which makes me more desperate for answers.

Where are these chemicals generated, and how?

Stim break because I'm very sad and tense and I need to love myself

Life is already so hard, please don't make it harder for yourself </3

The sadness never ends, but neither does the joy.

w a t e r

(I'm thirsty lol)

*CRONCH*

Nothing will ever be the same again, for better or worse.

Flowers and plants smell so good :) sometimes I wonder if the apple feels pain when I bite it. Is it still alive in itself after long being away from the tree?

A meal with a loved one is one of the only things that really matter. Cherish your mother.

It bleeds because it loves.

I know it hurts so so much. I know how desperately you wish the flames would stop. I know you don't want to hurt people. It hurts so much and I love you so much more for trying at all. You're so much more loved than you're comfortable with.

Making mistakes is how we learn.

Making mistakes is how we learn.

Making mistakes is how we learn.

Making mistakes is how we learn.

Making mistakes is how we learn.

So how do we heal?

I guess I have to forgive myself again for making the same mistake.

I did give myself credit for being less problematic this time. But I still feel bad.

I guess that's also a lame aspect of being human and traumatized. Idk :/ I also have a REALLY bad ego problem, and very very little impulse control.

Not a good combo, guys. :/

But yknow part of the healing process is learning to deal with the shame, the guilt, giving myself the time to undo the patterns my poor brain has grown accustomed to.

Oh my poor head.

Bttw after only two minutes of angry screaming, your body needs 7 WHOLE HOURS to recover hormonally. And your immune system suffers badly during those 7 hours too.

Stress probably causes cancer and heart disease, guys. I'm going to die early and not see my potential grand babies if I keep this shit up.

I must continue in my healing journey despite the horrors.

Oh my god what a day

It was actually a nice day

I learned a lot and relaxed and actually applied to part time job for the first time this year :) my friend helped me a lot and I can never appreciate her enough <3

God what a day tho

Hey god, if you're real, I'm really sorry for talking shit to you and about you because of all these human religions and my own selfishness and pain.

I cannot imagine what it's like. I wonder.

What horrors have you seen? What horrors are you capable of? What joy have you experienced?

To feel. To be.

The constant stream of consciousness.

Well I'm gonna play ponytown and or show off my ponies in another post. Until next time, my dears. These are hard times, so you should not be hard on yourself unless it's lovingly and healthily. Goodnight and stay safe <3

[mariska]

i am having a horrible chronic pain and illness flareup today but i absolutely NEED to take a shower because its been way too many days now (i have been Extra Sick the past week or two-ish and have had even less energy than i do regularly which is. less than none. regularly. lmao 😞) but it Will flare up my symptoms even worse than it is right now and its very difficult to negotiate to my brain that i still have to take care of my body and myself despite that. but my brain is like. HYPERFIXATION DISTRACTION: U SHOULD DRAW NATHALIE (character i love who is canonically disabled and has very similar symptoms 2 my real life disability symptoms and is also my personal patron saint of comically bad chronic pain/illness circumstances)

and there is just. idk how to describe it. theres a really fucking stupid funny phenomenon that just happened in my brain where as soon as the hyperfixation side tried to sneak its lil Avoiding A Necessary Task By Focusing On Special Interest Thing Instead urge into my train of thought it IMMEDIATELY made the logical part of my brain go "oh, absolutely not. now you HAVE to go take a shower and brush your teeth and take care of yourself despite the horribleness of those things w ur current pain situation because ur fav chronic pain girlie Ms Nathalie EternalBedrest would actively disapprove of you sketching lil doodles of her to avoid a necessary health related task and knowing that she would be supremely disappointed in u if she was a real person and not a cartoon character is an even worse feeling than knowing that u will be in more pain post-shower".

so now i have to go do it. my brain is so hyperfixation and special interest oriented 24/7 that it just did an Olympic track race all by itself starting at "cant do it, worse pain incoming", running to "focus on something involving disabled character u love and relate to instead" and then crossed the finish line at "if she was real she'd scold you like you're a fucking child and that sucks so much. thats embarrassing as hell. she would hate ur stupid distraction doodles. why do u wanna make her more sad than she already is. she is so sad all of the time and u are not helping"

anyways once again Nathalie from My Most Embarrassing Special Interest Media has saved the day just by existing in a fictional realm and also in my personal brain all the time forever. thanks queen

[system-comforts]

sorry this feels dumb but i kind of need to vent/maybe ask for advice idk

so we're physically disabled, but we only have been for a few years, we've been a system for way longer and have had several older members be completely shocked at how much we've deteriorated in the past two years. it's been very very rapidly getting worse due to not getting any medical assistance, to a point where we're almost fully bedbound. it's been, honestly, traumatizing as hell to witness our entire body just deteriorate around us without being able to do anything about it. and because of that, we've been gaining new members like fucking crazy. we went from around ~150 to over 300 in the span of about the last six months alone.

the amount of headmates is fine, our internal functioning is fine and we're all okay system-wise. but i just. can't help but feel really really really guilty for just... basically forcing all of these people to slowly die with me. there are 300 other people in my brain that i am actively giving trauma to by introjecting them. i know we can't control new members appearing, but it just feels like I'm dragging everyone else with me to slowly rot in this body. we're only 21. we shouldn't be dying this fast. we don't even know what's wrong with us and within the span of two years we went from fully ablebodied to fully bedbound. it feels like our brain is just quicksand, once you're in you're just doomed. i don't want to put my other headmates in pain. i don't want them to be hurt or afraid. i hate doing this to them but if they went away i think I'd just stop functioning like i cant do anything without them and i love them all to death sending them away or having them go dormant or fusing just isn't an option it makes us all just want to cry. but i feel like we're all crabs and our body is the bucket. we're just trapped in here. i don't know what to do.

Hi there anon. I want to say your feelings are completely understandable. That is a very heavy emotional burden to carry, along with the physical difficulties you describe. I'm glad you reached out to us and glad you felt you could reach out to someone. I hope you can find others to share these thoughts with so you don't have to keep them inside all the time.

I think it's wonderful how you care for your headmates. I'm sure they care a lot about you too. I hope that you can continue to focus on the care you have for each other and continue to support each other. Whether that's changing front, talking things out together, sharing hobbies, etc. Systems can be difficult to have, especially in difficult circumstances, but they can also provide a lot of support and comfort. I hope you can keep in mind that comfort and support and know you have that with them.

As a final note, I want to say I hope you can feel not guilty, or at least less guilty, about the situation. Although some systems are more created, a lot come about naturally or through difficult circumstances, and it's not the person's fault for having a system. Even if you still feel that you brought members here somehow, it's important to keep in mind that you and your headmates couldn't have known the future of your body and the situation. We can only do our best with the information and resources we have at the time, and given all that, I know you did and are doing your best.

Please reach out again or to a professional if you continue to have these thoughts and concerns. I wish you the best.

-mod venus

[goofygargoyle]

why is human skin so fucky???

In my quest to at least hydrate if not also try to have less acne, I've discovered you can just... buy bottles of (pure?) aloe vera gel and use that as moisturizer pretty much on your entire body including scalp.

(the other recommendation I found was Vaseline but I hate the texture)

pros:

barely any smell (and I like the smell it does have)

absorbs fast

acceptable texture

cheaper than lotions

doesn't seem to be piling on skin like the lotions were

cons:

None?

I have no idea if it's working. You know me, it's really hard to tell these sorts of things and my memory is garbage so like if I breakout it's entirely possible I missed that area for a bit. I don't have a good routine or reminder to apply the damn gel EVERYWHERE consistently.

edit:

my brain doesn't work and idk where to edit to add so:

internet/reddit says acne can be reduced by hydration even tho it seems counterintuitive. also scabs heal faster. that plus just the dry skin and the trying to hydrate entire body for less headaches and a slight reduction in intensity of muscle pain (because dehydration makes it worse) is why I've been trying to find a moisturizer.

[un2-verse]

BILLY — Kim Taehyung (2)

pairing: taehyung x f reader

genre: horror au, yandere au, saw/john kramer au

synopsis: News of a Sadistic Serial Killer nicknamed “Jigsaw” is spreading around town like wildfire… the nickname stemming from the puzzle piece he cuts from every victim’s body. No one knows who he’ll trap next but in a town full of delinquents and criminals, it could never be you. Right?

warnings: mentions of suicidal thoughs, abusive relationships, stalking etc. dont read if triggered. there are some ?? fucked up things in this but idk what to word them. but also mentions of self harm/self hating thoughts.

wordcount: 2.2k

a/n: unedited so pls forgive me for any mistakes and lmk if u want to be added to a taglist^^

series masterlist

part one part three

You’d spent a couple of hours in the café with Taehyung. Jimin popped over every now and then to talk with his best friend and to make sure you had everything you needed while there.

When you left, Jimin wrapped his arms around you as he bid his farewell, “It was lovely to meet you Y/N! Please, don’t be a stranger!” You simply nodded your head as you pulled away from the hug. You grinned back at him as he moved to Taehyung. You opened the door, carefully stepping outside to leave the boys with some privacy.

Once the door shut Jimin’s smile beamed, “so she’s the girl you’re always talking about, Flower? Right?”

“Yeah she is, thanks for that though man but, I’ve gotta go. I’ll see you later?”

Taehyung smiled as he made his way towards you, you looked up and he swore, he saw a hint of nervousness in your eyes, probably because it’s dark, he thought to himself. “Come on then, let’s get you home.” He held out his hand, you were quick to grab a hold of it. Taehyung intertwined your fingers as he tugged you back across the road, “it’ll take about twenty minutes, you gonna be alright to walk?” he glanced down to you.

Your heart warmed at the way his eyes smiled with him, “I’ll be fine, thank you.” He seemed happy enough with your answer as you fell into a steady rhythm. You felt a little conflicted, you may not know Taehyung well but he had an energy about him that made you wanna spill every secret you knew, you’d shared pointless stories while you were at the café, having learnt Taehyung was a family oriented person, he loved art and he was passionate about little subjects other people would deem small. Yet he had a warmth that you’d not seen in anyone else.

Fuck it, you thought, he’s shown nothing but kindness, you may aswell open upto him… atleast.

“I was in an abusive relationship.” Taehyung felt himself smirk but quickly wiped it from his face, he arched an eyebrow as he looked down to you, “it was my first too. It left me, fucked up, in a way. Not that I wasn’t already fucked up.” Progress. He squeezed your hand in reassurance, go on… “I’ve always been insecure and uh, uncomfortable with the way I look. After that disaster of a relationship, it left me worse for wear.” you kept your eyes on the road, you didn’t want to see the judgement on his face yet it didn’t stop you from carrying on, “I never told my friends or family about it. None of them knew I was struggling before it anyway so I’ve been letting it tear me apart.”

“Why tell me then doll?”

You risked a glance at his face. There were no traces of judgement or pity. Swallowing down your nerves, you added softly, “I had to tell someone. Even if that someone is a random person— who showed me kindness when I needed it.”

Taehyung felt his heart clench, she’s already trusting me… this was easier than I thought. “Don’t feel like you need to tell me anything baby,” I already know it all.

You felt your cheeks burn from the pet name, how could something so simple, affect you this much? God, talk about a schoolgirl crush. “That’s the thing, I don’t feel like I need to. I just, I want to.”

Taehyung presented you with his boxy grin, “Then you can tell me anything you want, whether it's big or small.”

“Thank you Taehyung.” It was like the sun had shone down on you, the simplest gesture meant the world. Here you had a person willing to talk to you about your darkest secrets. A person willing to listen. Someone who had no ties to your family, which made it easier for the words to flow from you, “It’s like, I was this happy, care-free kid. I smiled without forcing it and when I laughed… I felt free. I didn’t feel like I was losing my breath. Not like I do now, everytime I do so much as breathe, it's like these roots have twisted around my lungs and everytime a breath escapes, they crush them tighter. It’s like a reminder. You’re never fully alive. You’re never fully happy. Pain overrides any other emotion. I’ve learned that, after all those years. I used to think, I’d never accept it.” A solemn silence fell over you. The roots squeezed your lungs even tighter as you whispered, “I’m scared of living.”

“Flower, some people are anchored to this world by their feet, others by their fears. You don’t have to voice it, I know you’re scared. You have your fears. Your demons. The thing you were doing at the cafe; is destructive. Anything that harms you, is destructive. Fuck, it may only be something as simple as picking your skin but that can lead into bigger things.”

It already has.

“Taehyung, I know that. I knew when it started but it helps, it lessens my anxiety. You’re the only one to have picked up on it. My friends… they don’t notice. If they do, they don’t mention it.”

Taehyung scoffed, “You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?”

Your mouth was sewn shut. You didn’t want to admit it but, there was some truth to his words.

You walked home in silence.

That night haunted you. It forced its way into your dreams. It clouded your thoughts when Yoongi and Hoseok were with you. When you’d spent time together, you were vacant. A soulless body. It was like a poison had found its way into your brain, second guessing relationships and people’s motives.

‘You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?’

Why were you letting it get in your head so much? You knew your friends. They were the only ones you felt safe with. They were your friends for a reason, they supported you (albeit sometimes they had a sense of… tough love) but they always had your back.

You didn’t mention Taehyung to Yoongi or Hoseok. You felt as though that was something that should be kept between you and him. Plus, the duo would’ve felt betrayed and upset by the fact you had wandered into foreign territory alone and found company in a complete stranger-- especially after they’d warned you about the whole Jigsaw shit.

To save the arguments, you went about your life as usual. You helped out your Mum with the flower shop, the array of flowers made you realise how the simplest things were beautiful. That of course, didn’t include yourself. Rancid thoughts clouded what was once, a tranquil space. Those god forsaken roots hadn’t lessened. Breathing was still difficult— as was pretending that you were absolutely fine.

You avoided mirrors, a quick glance could wreck your entire mood. You hated people taking photos of you, it made you scrutinise every single thing.

My nose is too big.

My chin is too round.

My face just shouts ugly.

My legs are disgusting.

My stomach is embarrassing.

My boobs are weird.

Not to say, you didn’t have these thoughts on the regular. However, the more you eluded your appearance, the voices lessened. You could ignore the way you looked, forget it completely. Often convinced yourself you were a plain person. The stereotypical norm: someone that no one would look twice at. It helped you get on with everyday tasks, it helped you ease the anxiety.

After all, every flower must grow through dirt.

But how would you react? If you knew, he had all the pictures of you?

Tuesdays you worked at your Dad’s garage. You didn’t know much about cars but you enjoyed his company. As well as spending time with Hobi and Yoongi. You often found yourself pranking the former with Yoongi, little jokes that luckily, didn’t piss Hobi off too much.

Today though, you were late. You’d had to spend more time trying to find the more appropriate clothing… you didn’t want people to see the slashed lines of red that littered your body.

After you messily threw an outfit together, you made your way down to the garage. You found your eyes trained on the silver Nissan Skyline, mouth agape as you collided into something.

You felt hands grab your shoulders, “Watch where you’re going,” Yoongi brought his hands to ruffle your hair, “gotta be careful while we’ve got that here kidda. That fuckers expensive.” He released a chuckle as you rolled your eyes, softly elbowing him out the way.

Your dad was under the bonnet, a box of tools were scattered around his feet. Organised mess, your Dad was infamous for it.

“Sorry I’m late Pops, what do you want me to do?”

Not even a second later, your Dad turned to face you, “Ah darling, not a lot while we’re working on this. Can you go make us some drinks?”

“Yeah course, I won’t be too long!”

You passed Hoseok on your way to the little kitchen situated at the back, he sent you a wink as he shouted across, “Coffee for me kidda!”

Three cups were spread in front of you. Americano for Yoongi, Coffee for Hobi and Cappuchino for Pops. Just as you were about to shout the guys, a presence had situated itself comfortably behind you. Before you had time to turn around, a deep baritone voice addressed you, “You not gonna ask me if I want a cup baby?”

You felt yourself still. You knew that voice. The voice that was haunting your dreams, even your wake.

You really think anyone on this planet is your friend?

Taehyung watched the way your body tensed, your shoulders stiffened, your breathing altered. Hm, she’s nervous. How cute.

“What are you doing here?” the words passed your lips, delivered as though they were encased in thorns.

A deep chuckle filled the room, “What do you think I’m doing here?” Taehyung inched closer, the atmosphere was almost palpable. You felt the way his chest brushed against your back, a sudden chill shot through you as he brought his hand up— which grazed against your skin whilst he moved your hair from your neck. His eyes turned hungry at the sight of your goosebumps. Your heart raced when he brought his head lower, lips next to your ear, “You think I’m here for you baby?” I am… but you don’t need to know that just yet.

You spun around, squashed between the table and Taehyung. Heat radiated off of him, how can he be so hot? It felt like you were in a furnace (while face to face with the Devil.)

Fear stricken, you tried to fight through it. Don’t show him. Don’t let him see. With a sarcastic smile plastered on your face you retorted, “Of course you are Taehyung. You tracked me down using the information I gave you and figured out which Garage is ours.”

The sarcasm was practically dripping from your tone like venom. Taehyung felt himself stifle a laugh.

You just didn’t know. In all fairness, you didn’t know anything. How would you know that Taehyung had done exactly that, except he’d done it months prior.

He lowered his head to yours, your hands raised to push him away but Taehyung wrapped his fingers around each wrist and tugged them to lay between you before you even had the chance to nudge him. You felt like you were stuck in a Venus fly trap.

“I’m not some type of sicko, doll.”

You were just a naive, misunderstood, little girl.

“I’m getting my car fixed. Your dad’s working on it right now.”

Your body visibly relaxed, releasing a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Oh, the Skyline? Wait, you have a car and made us walk back to mine the other week?”

“I didn’t make you walk for the fun of it baby, my car is literally in the shop so obviously it was broken.”

Only, the car was perfectly fine when you met him those weeks ago. He had made the pair of you walk so he’d have more of a chance to speak to you and to touch you. The only way he could follow you around without being suspicious, especially at your dads work, was to have a somewhat reasonable excuse (which resulted in him messing with the engine). He knew although you’d shied away from him that night, he could easily win you back around.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Taehyung. I’m also uh, sorry about how that night ended.”

“Don’t sweat it, I know what I said came off a little... weird but I didn’t mean any harm.”

With an angelic smile on your face in return, Taehyung knew that soon, that smile would morph into a grateful one. After all, he was going to help you.

Until a person is faced with death, it’s impossible to tell whether they have what it takes to survive.

Live or Die.

Your choice.

He had first seen you out and about last year. However, he had first heard of you when the guys working for him had slammed a file onto his desk, Subject #13 was scrawled on the top. Filled to the brim with pictures of you and everything about your life down to the littlest detail.

L/N Y/N— D.O.B 03.11.02— 19 years old.

Phone number: XXXXX.XXXXX

Female. Lives with parents at: 171 Norm Street, Falfield F91 7DW. Was outcasted at school but befriended a Jeon Jeongguk [19 years, male. 92 Carriers Road, Cressage CY5 3EA. XXXXX.XXXXX].

Ex partner is Kang Jaehyo. [23 years. Male. Abusive and manipulative, laid his hands on Y/N multiple times leaving bruises and scars. Sexual abuse was also discovered. Have been broken up for 4 months. 13 Walkers Drive, Falfield, F73 1DL XXXXX.XXXXX]

Y/N has suicidal ideations (as well as 7 attempts). Self harms by “cutting” “punching” and “scratching”. Diagnosed with Depression and Anxiety Disorder on May 13th 2016. Works at Toret Garage and Letty’s Floral. Both places owned by parents.

The web of lies and deceit had barely scraped the surface.

[dissociacrip]

the delightful dilemma of being multiply physically impaired in ways that directly contradict my ability to efficiently perform my manual labor job duties as a dishwasher in ways that would get me fired if it weren't for the fact that having to overcompensate for my brain and body-wrongness has somehow made me more reliable and consistent than my co-workers - purely in comparison to their typical lack of dedication - and therefore i get a level of responsibility and expectations forced on me that tends to make me sicker. also the fact that i'm working until like 1-2am while having to pretty much sleep on the floor rn.

i didn't call out once while having signs of a herniated disc (not signs of disc herniation according to upper thoracic mri, possibly cci and/or a csf leak) in my cervical/upper thoracic spine causing me excruciating pain that felt like my back/shoulder was on fire and like a knife in the base of my neck, i just left slightly earlier than i was supposed to one time (technically i should have left beforehand based off my schedule but i hadn't caught up dishes all the way due to me being incapable of working fast enough due to my body not working) because the amount of pain i was in was starting to trigger a breakdown. aside from this for the past 2-3 years i have had recurrent episodes of intense, searing pain in my upper back/lower neck accompanied by fairly rapid deterioration of coordination and cognition to the point of slurring my speech and moving/talking like i'm drunk that is only relieved when i lay down for several hours afterwards, which extends beyond my pots symptoms and is suggestive of recurring or flaring csf leaks or cci or both or something. for whatever reason these episodes correlate with working morning hours and have decreased significantly since i've primarily been doing night shift..?

either way though last night my knees still buckled on me a few times when the muscles in my legs started getting weaker on me from exertion. i can't bend down to pick stuff up out of the grates because i get dizzy and almost fell over from it one time. i really only still have this job because my co-workers suck that badly. i haven't had the same energy levels i did before since getting covid in january, though the potential csf/cci shit came before that. i really need to find another fucking job where i can sit down and have minimal interaction with people that pays at least the amount i'm making now but school makes that difficult and my social problems and mild hearing issues get in the way of most desk jobs due to them hinging on customer service work. and actually getting the whole "possible cci/recurring csf leaks" thing addressed in any helpful way is going to be an absolute nightmare. idk where i was going with this i just hate that i'm in this situation of having no choice but to support myself when i'm just barely able to do so with current circumstances and i don't know if my situation is getting progressively worse as time goes on because none of this stuff has been adequately addressed or treating and medical staff don't want to do their fucking jobs properly. i worked for like a month with that "herniated disc" pain and the mri showed nothing helpful like lol ok well i guess i'll just go fuck myself dude.

[daydreamer-bby]

Annoying Personal Mental Wellness Rant and more, waste of time to read so don't bother... like literally fuck off if you're feeling even slightly judgy lol

my brother is like, this estranged god figure

he's always been amazing and patient and kind to me but we're not very close... TONS of love between us and I know he's always been worried for me because (I won't go into his exact words but basically he and my siblings know I'm basically so different that it affects my independence)

he's super into his wine studies and is respected and admired by his colleagues and superiors so obviously this just adds to the level of respect I've accumulated for him

like he's so devoted to his interests and has made a pretty wonderful career for himself in his industry here in the Bay Area all on his own and he's like... #GOALS

I wish I had something going on right now that I cared about as much as he cares about his food/drink education but I have had so many diverse interests and due to my issues I just haven't been able to throw myself into anything the way he has and secure a place for myself in an area I respect

oh god I just dissociated for literally 5 minutes wtf Caitlynn you're just BLOGGING INTO THE DAMN ABYSS THIS SHOULDN'T BE STRESSFUL

I had retype stressful like 10 times because my hands aren't cooperating with my brain

anywayyyyyy

My husband is dealing with the homebuying process and hopefully all continues to go well and progress so that we're living in VA before the end of January (LOL this sounds so ambitious considering the move involved but whatever)

And so, living in Virginia, not in a major city or anything but definitely not somewhere rural either, is going to be exciting as fuck and a new adventure for our little family

I've seriously been thinking about how great it would be to open a cafe in our town but obviously this is just me being mentally ill because who the fuck am I to dream of such a thing with 0 experience or degree ?????

That said everyone I know thinks my food is pretty lit and this business idea of mine really just revolves around one type of food that apparently I make really fabulously

The idea has been on my mind on and off for like... idk at least the past decade. But with each passing year it's gotten stronger and now that I don't have fuck else going on I'm like... could it be time to have a big moment ????

Probably not, I'm legit bonkers right now

But the idea just won't leave me

It's like painful how much I'd love to do this but I know the second I try to realize this ambitious dream I will likely lose all my supporters because "Caitlynn you just resigned from your officer position because you're suicidal like maybe this isn't the best time to take on more stress than you need to" or whatever they'd say but honestly I do really well under pressure

I mean I look like a big fat ugly mess under pressure too but mannnnn that's when shit be gettiN DONE

Idk, I'm crazy to want to bet on myself given my personal history but people are capable of change and growth and drive and all that good shit so why not

I'm literally laughing my ass off typing this out I'm fucking stupid lol

I AM A COMPLETE IDIOT BUT MY FOOD HAS ALWAYS BEEN LOVED AND I THINK IF I WERE TO OBTAIN SOME SORT OF FORMAL TRAINING IN THIS AREA I'D BE ABLE TO ADD VALUE TO A SMALL FOOD BUSINESS OF MY OWN BUT HERE I AM, TYPING TO MYSELF AT 4AM ALONE AND COLD AND DIRTY BECAUSE MY BRAIN AND BODY HATE ME MORE THAN I HATE THEM

I miss my husband so much wtf, he'd be able to keep me more grounded if he were here

Not that I should complain, he's doing so much for us

Lmao god I am the worst

Also yes maybe I am getting worse again because my thoughts have been so angry and disgusting and just offputting to the layers of my selves

This has been helpful, I recommend ranting to your self anytime you need to prevent yourself from moving towards any real goals or aspirations in your miserable little life

Thank god my support system isn't more qualitative I'd prolly do some dumb shit like try starting my own business before I even live in the god damn state I'm destined for

That's another thing too like Idfk how long we're going to live in this new town what if I do the damn thing and then we're like OH OKAY NVM DEUCES WE'RE MOVING AGAIN

Although I do know that we're going to live there at least for the life of the loan which will be about 5-6 years so perhaps that would be enough time to try and create something special for myself ??????

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

I CAN'T FEEL MY FINGERS OR TOES

I WANT TO BE EMPTY

I MISS FEELING REAL HUNGER

HUNGER IN THE REAL SENSE SURE, I AM FAT AND MISS BEING HEAVILY INTO LOSING WEIGHT LIKE WHEN I WAS IN HIGH SCHOOL AND TUMBLR WAS A TOXIC WASTELAND

BUT ALSO

MISSING THE HUNGER FOR ACHIEVING THINGS AS A LEARNER AND WORKER AND PROBLEM SOLVER AND TEAMMATE AND SO ON

LIKE I AM SO ISOLATED AND NO ONE WOULD CARE IF

okay that's not true (probably)

BUT STILL I AM A FAT LITTLE HUMAN GRUB WHO IS GOING NOWHERE FAST

MAYBE I COULD FIND A MENTOR SMALL BUSINESS OWNER ONCE WE MOVE

BUT WHY THE FUCK WOULD THEY WANT TO ASSOCIATE WITH MEEEEEEE

I DON'T EVEN WANT TO ASSOCIATE WITH ME

yknow being alive at this point in time where humans can't shed their physical bodies and become part of a cyber society is super inconvenient and if/when I get the chance to rejoin this general plane of existence I am not sure I'll be joining anything within a thousand years of this fucking nightmare of a period

all that in mind it would suck to only serve up pixels to my patrons so perhaps further back would be better

but I'd have to come back as a man, the female experience up to now just ain't it

god my dad is up and about now

I love the guy and I don't want to write anything that a therapist could someday find and be like 'okay bitch to the hospital you go' BUT a huge reason we're moving is my dad... I'll leave it at that

UGHHHHH husband

husband please come home to me

I am a mess

I was literally on the phone with him yesterday morning cuz I don't really sleep and I was so exhausted I was just sobbing nonsense about missing him and telling him all my intrusive thoughts as word vomit and I know he's got enough on his plate and I shouldn't be letting him know these pretty dangerous thoughts and fears of mine but oh well he's my fucking soulmate and he signed up for the bullshit so who am I not to deliver a big STEAMING PLATE OF IT

._.

God

I am so annoying wtf

wtf wtf wtf wtf wtf wtf WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF

I don't think I've REALLY partaken in the ol SH nonsense I love but I've generally not been kind to my self either

Like the face picking alone man...

I think I've given myself small keloids near my nose crease

and I've picked so much at the corner of my mouth it like keeps cracking open and man oh man that shit be hurtin

I was so puffy this afternoon when I woke up from all my crybaby antics that I legit wasn't sure if I was blind for a second

I should probably take my blood pressure and anxiety medications but yknow what I don't really FEEL LIKE IT BECAUSE I DON'T WANT TO ABUSE THEM WHILE I AM NOT WITH MY HUSBAND BECAUSE I CAN'T TRUST MYSELF TO AKE THE RIGHT CHOICES

even the like 2ish ounces of shrooms I'm sitting on right now are locked up cuz I don't wanna shroom my brain away

like I did before going to rehab last year lmao

oh lord

that whole thing was so cringe, I hate how much I think about it

super awful experience but it could've been a lot worse I suppose

lmao this girl that roomed with me for like the last day or so was super funny and I feel like we'd be good friends but I am fucking weird and awful so it took me like over a year to reach out over text cuz she gave me her number but didn't give mine and idk if she even remembered me but she seems open to chatting but I AM FUSDHFGLSIDAGHFKHSD FUCKING CREEPY AND UGLY AND FAT and I just don't think I'd be doing any favors by continuing to try to engage her

plus I think she's a bit younger than me so she prolly doesn't feel the urge to socialize with me

oh good god I need to shower

Idek when I last did I basically just do rinses and stuff when I can because A N X I E T Y

it's not even just showers ffs it's everything

even moving the mouse plugged into my laptop is too much effort sometimes, I'll just leave my stupid Stardew game on pause and just sit here because it feels oh so taxing

._.

I hate myself, that's all, I'm done for now, toodles ♥

[anonniemousefics]

Hello! I absolutely adore your writing, especially your writings of kanej! Anyway, I would love to see you write something about jealousy from either kaz or inej, I just think it would be interesting to see your take on it! Obviously you don’t have to, I love your work! You’re a great writer!

❤️ Thank you so much!! This was so sweet to receive, and I’m so sorry it’s taken me so long to get this to you! So, hopefully you’re cool with this, but I decided to apply this idea in a modern AU because I have another request I’m also working on for a modern AU and this felt like an opportunity for some more practice. 😊 (And it just made it more fun for me -- idk, my brain just needed to do something new with these characters to make this work.) 

Samples - Modern AU

Fandom: Six of Crows | Kaz + Inej (ft. all the other Crows)

Word Count: 3,545

Rating: Teen And Up (Language)

“Who did this?”

All of Kaz’s friends were doubling over in laughter around the round hand-me-down table in Kaz and Jesper’s apartment. There were black and white Cards Against Humanity prompts spread across its surface – the most offensive combination of which had Inej, well, and everyone else, in fits.

What made my first kiss so awkward? had been the prompt Inej had drawn.

To which Kaz had submitted the following, randomly-selected card for her consideration – Announcing that I am about to cum. And then kept his poker face locked in place.

“Who did this?” Inej was demanding again, clutching her stomach.

Kaz wasn’t sure why he was hesitating -- something strange was happening while all of this was playing out. Nina had one hand on Inej’s arm while she was fairly screeching with laughter. Inej was slumping against Jesper, like the laugh was shaking her boneless. In fact, everywhere he looked, he was noticing how they were each exchanging these casual, unconscious touches in the midst of their mirth – Matthias turning his face against Nina’s shoulder, Wylan slapping Jesper’s shoulder.

No one was touching Kaz, though – which, that was good, though, right? That was because they were his friends, and they were thoughtful, and they knew all about The Very Sad Thing that had made him the way that he was.

And yet --

Kaz couldn’t find it in himself to laugh. He should be laughing, though, he realized. A normal person would be laughing, given the infectious nature of laughter. And also it was genuinely a really funny card – that’s why he’d played it. But all he could do was force a smile, and that was it.

He suddenly felt like an alien among them.

“Was it you?!” Inej was exclaiming, waving the card at him. Kaz designed what he hoped was a coy smirk for her.

“Are you saying that’s your favorite?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It was you.” Inej looked appalled, which only made everyone around the table hoot louder. Kaz was still smirking as she threw his winning card back at him with a mischievous, red-faced grin on her face.

“Oh, my God, Brekker.” Nina was wiping the tears off her apple-red cheeks.

“Why does that make it so much worse?” Matthias wondered, since he evidently could never not take a jab at Kaz. He scrubbed his eyes like he needed to wash them out.

And still not a single laugh out of Kaz’s body – this was disturbing. How long had he been this way? And why did he care so much all of a sudden?

“Guys, I’m pretty sure he won,” Wylan was saying, pointing at Kaz’s stack of wins. Had he? Everyone turned to count their cards.

Jesus Christ, he hadn’t even been paying attention to winning? But Kaz loved winning. It was the only reason he tolerated his roommate hosting these raucous game nights – because it meant Kaz could win things. And usually a lot of things. It was especially choice winning things off of Matthias Helvar, Nina’s latest lughead boyfriend she’d met at the gym, who now had to be invited to everything even though he sucked. He was always cuddling close to Nina, putting his arm around her, whispering gross things in her ear that made her giggle insufferably. It was so fucking uncomfortable.

Kaz never acted that way around Inej, and they’d been together for years. Sort of. Not always officially. It really had only been officially lately, but Kaz had always told himself he wasn’t one to need to put labels on things. Inej knewhow he felt – he knew this. (Did he, though?) He definitely knew this. (No, he didn’t.) There was no need to be like Matthias fucking Helvar and canoodle her in front of everyone on game night.

Oh, God. Kaz was suddenly having a realization, right there in the middle of counting his cards.

Oh, God.

He was jealous of Matthias Helvar.

Oh, this sucked.

This really fucking sucked. Kaz thought no one in their right mind should ever be jealous of that big dumb fuck, with his protein shakes and his weirdly popular fitspo Instagram page. The guy looked like he ate nothing but wild-caught salmon and organic broccoli. He wasn’t funny, and he’d say weirdly spiritual shit at socially unacceptable times. He probably spent his weekends doing annoying, on-brand fuckery like being one with nature and brewing his own kombucha, that asshole.

And this was the guy who felt comfortable enough to kiss a girl’s ear in a total stranger’s apartment. (Well, not a total stranger, Kaz would relinquish that – Nina had been dating Matthias for three months.) Matthias Helvar was doing all that nothing with his life, and he wasn’t the least bit self-conscious.

Ugh. Kaz hated that guy. Worse! Kaz wanted to be that guy. Minus the kombucha and the religious stuff. And the gym membership. And probably the protein shakes.

Ok, fine, Kaz was only interested in the PDA. This was so fucking awful.

“What number were we playing to?” he heard himself ask. He wasn’t even paying attention to card counting. He was going to have to start again.

“Can’t count that high, Brekker?” Matthias asked, smirking, and there was always something Kaz took as halfway serious in the way he tried to joke.

“Die in a fire, Helvar,” he said, with a smile that was as good as a middle finger.

“And on that note!” Nina sung out, standing with a hand on Matthias’ shoulder. “It’s almost midnight. I have an eight a.m. class. We gotta call it a night.”

“Matthias drove us,” Inej explained to Kaz’s questioning look at the word “We.”

Inej and Nina were roommates, too, like Kaz and Jesper, but the two girls lived on campus in the dorms at Ketterdam University, where all but Matthias attended. (Fucking Matthias, who was a personal trainer and got money from wellness companies to tout their shit on his Instagram. Ugh.) Wylan, Jesper’s boyfriend, was also living in the dorms this year, after spending his freshmen year commuting from his dad’s enormous house. Wylan had been the one with the car before Kaz had finally scraped together the money for one, but his dad had cut him off over the summer. Kaz didn’t know much about that beyond what little Jesper had told him, which, in summary, was: goodbye, car; hello, dorm life.

“You should have said something – I could have picked you all up,” Kaz said, mostly to Inej, as the others were standing from the table.

Nina reached a tentative hand out to gently touch his shoulder, well-protected by the fabric of his black v-neck.

“Kaz,” she said, gingerly, “we love you, but Matthias has functioning air conditioning.”

Kaz slid his glance toward Inej, who gave a little confirming nod, pressing back her amused smile.

“My thighs don’t stick to the seats in his car,” she explained, softly, which may as well have been a knife to the gut. He loved driving her around in his car. And, to top it off, she was in a pair of really adorable denim cut offs, her legs deeply tan from the summer sun, and he hadn’t even had the nerve to try to touch her exposed knee all night. (Meanwhile, Hands-On Helvar over here had been sitting with his palm all over Nina’s plentiful thighs all night. God, he was so gross. Couldn’t Kaz be just a little bit gross?)

“Are you okay?” Inej was asking. She was stepping a little closer to him away from where everyone else was putting on shoes, preparing to leave. She had her arms wrapped around herself and her loose, purple crop-top, and her long, dark braid was pulled over her shoulder – just mercilessly cute all over. And he hadn’t touched her all night.

“I’m fine,” he replied, but he kept his hands in his jeans pockets. Inej’s dark brows knit together.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?” she checked. Kaz huffed a laugh – how was he supposed to answer that? Realistically, he should lie.

“Probably not,” he admitted anyway, and gave a shrug. Inej opened her mouth to reply, but Nina called to her from the doorway of the apartment.

“Sorry! Eight a.m. class! She’s going to text you from the car anyway!” Nina was shouting.

“She’s not wrong,” Inej shrugged with a smile. And reached out to barely brush her hand against his spine, like the first attempt at a hug. But Kaz could only bunch up his shoulders, hands stuffed deeper into his pockets. Why was he like this?

There were a few more awkward goodbyes at the doorway, including Matthias’ one-more last-minute sales pitch on the recent CBD-infused green powder drink he was hawking online. (“I’ll bring you some samples next week. They say it’s excellent for chronic pain.” Kaz had flipped him off when his back was turned.)

But then, once they’d all gone and the apartment was quiet, Kaz felt like he was rolling in regret.

“You doing ok?” Jesper asked him, gathering up the empty Solo cups for the trash. Jesper was a really good roommate. They’d been randomly assigned the same dorm room at the beginning of freshmen year, and it just worked. Jesper’s high energy plus Kaz’s insomnia were meant to be. They liked all the same things: strong coffee, getting paid dirty money to write other people’s papers for them, and occasionally clearing the mind by playing Call of Duty all night. They’d moved off campus the following year (a better move for the plagiarism operation), never even really having a conversation about whether or not to room with someone else. It was not even a question, and who else would Kaz even want to room with?

“You’ve seemed off all night,” Jesper was pointing out, and if Kaz had half a brain, he knew he should have been asking Jesper for advice about PDA long before it had reached envying-Matthias-Helvar-levels. Jesper and Wylan were normal in public. When they held hands or hugged or traded kisses, it wasn’t some fucking scene.

But how was he even supposed to bring this up to Jesper?

“Helvar’s such a dillweed,” was all he could find to complain. Jesper snorted.

“He is not that bad,” he said, dumping a stack of Solo cups into the trash.

“He’s the literal worst,” Kaz objected. “I can’t believe he unironically called himself an influencer.” And at that, Jesper pretended to barf into the trashcan.

“Yeah, no, you’re right – that was dumb,” he said. “I commend you for not cutting off your own ears when he did.”

“We are not buying his stupid fucking green juice,” Kaz said, pointing at Jesper to show he meant business.

“Good!” Jesper agreed. “Nina says it gives him the shits.”

And that brought Kaz some comfort. He found he could smirk about it while he loaded up the dishwasher. He was starting it up when his phone buzzed on the counter. He leaned over to read it.

Inej: You seemed sad tonight.

Inej’s contact photo in his phone was one he’d snapped when she wasn’t looking – she was leaning her head back with her eyes closed, taking in the sunshine. It had made her brown skin glimmer and dazzle.

Kaz stared at her text for probably too long. Long enough for Jesper to peer around the corner of the kitchen doorway at him.

“I’m going to bed – everything okay?” he said, and cocked his head. “Is it another last minute job?” Those kinds of jobs – the ones where a student was giving up the night before something massive was due – paid the most, but for good reason. They were absolutely fucking miserable to pull off.

“No,” Kaz shook his head. “Just Inej.”

It was never “just Inej” – and Jesper nodded like he knew that.

“Hey, Kaz,” he said, as he began to leave for his bedroom. Kaz looked up at him sidelong as he mouthed, barely audible: “Tell her what’s wrong.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.” Kaz rolled his eyes. And heaved a heavy sigh.

And started typing.

Kaz: I guess I was a little.

Whoa, pressing send on that was unpleasant. He wandered over to his preferred recliner in the living room and flopped back in it. Shoved the footrest up to elevate his bad leg. Ugh. Just ugh to everything and everyone. He looked down at his phone again.

And Inej had been quick to respond.

Inej: You can tell me these things, you know.

Inej: I know I won’t always have the right thing to say, but I want to be there for you.

Inej. Why are you being so perfect so far away?

Why are you wasting your time with a boyfriend who struggles to touch you?

Inej: Are you writing a novel?

He’d been writing and rewriting the same sentence twenty different times. She’d probably been looking at those ominous three bobbing dots for way too long.

Ugh. God. Fine. Kaz drew in a long deep breath, staring up at the ceiling like it could intervene and come to his aid. And then fucking wrote.

Kaz: I wish things were different

Kaz: I wish I wasn’t so fucked

Kaz: I wish I knew how to be a better boyfriend – how to make you blush and laugh and make that one smile that’s like you’re telling secrets with your eyes

He pushed the recliner back as far as it would go. Maybe it would tip and dump him on his head and he’d have to go to the hospital, and that would at least delay Inej inevitably breaking up with him for being this pathetic wet blanket. The phone buzzed again, and he almost didn’t want to look.

Inej: Um, where were you all night? You literally had me doing all those things all night

Huh. That wasn’t how he remembered it.

Kaz: On the opposite side of the table from you

Kaz: Watching basically everyone else be able to touch you but me

Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck. That sounded so petulant, and he’d already pressed send. That sounded so needy and disgusting. Who said that kind of shit? Not even Matthias Helvar said that kind of shit. He wanted to throw his phone across the room. No, out the window. No, out into the sea.

Now he was on the receiving end of the three bobbing dots of doom. Fuuuuck.

Kaz: Can we just forget I said that?

More dots. Then nothing.

Then dots.

Inej: I don’t know. You’re kind of cute when you’re jealous.

At that, Kaz raised his eyebrows.

Kaz: I am not jealous.

Inej: You’re a little jealous

Kaz: No, I feel insufficient.

(Oooof. That was like trying to throw an anvil. Painful.)

Inej: Oh

Kaz was watching the texts come in from beneath his arm now, holding the phone high over his head. Like watching the slasher scenes in a horror movie.

Inej: I mean

Inej: It seems like you’re just splitting hairs here

Inej: Since you must think others are sufficient in ways you are not, so you envy them

…

Kaz: Touche, Ghafa.

And he couldn’t help smiling to himself when Inej sent him a gif of a swashbuckling cartoon Robin Hood brandishing a sword. Then another text bubble appeared.

Inej: You are not insufficient to me, Kaz.

He really wanted to believe that.

Kaz: Even if I’m not hanging all over you and amassing a truly staggering number of Instagram followers with my six-pack abs?

Inej: O.M.G.

Inej: Kaz

Inej: Brekker

Oh, God, what had he done?

Inej: Are you *jealous* of Matthias?

Uggghh, he was going to be sick.

Kaz: Fuck no

Kaz: It was just a hypothetical

Kaz: It was an exaggeration

Kaz: I could do the same thing with any one of our friends

Kaz: And we all know the abs are photoshopped anyway

Inej: OMG

Kaz: What now

Inej: You called Matthias our friend

Kaz wanted to stab himself in the brain.

Inej: I’m gonna tell him

Kaz: Don’t you fucking dare

Inej: I already did

Kaz: What? How? How are you that fast?

Inej: Still in the car

Kaz: ????

There was no reason for that – the dorms were hardly a 10-minute drive. Now Kaz’s brain was assaulting him with a thousand reasons things his girlfriend could still be doing in a car (A nice car! With working air conditioning!) with a personal trainer/amateur Instagram model, and none of them were pleasant or welcome thoughts. The phone buzzed again.

Inej: I asked him to bring me back to you. :)

At that, Kaz straightened the recliner, rising to his feet as fast as his stiff leg would allow.

Kaz: You did? And he did? Why?

He was limping toward the front door.

Inej: Because he’s not terrible, Kaz. And because I guess I missed your car after all ;)

Jesper and Kaz’s apartment was the third floor of a wonky old Victorian home that had once been something grand and only recently had been split into three different abodes – which was definitely the worst decision the two of them had made as roommates. Kaz was leaning hard against the railing as he took to the steps when the front door of the building banged shut below. And then there on the landing below was Inej, wearing a sheepish smile in the yellow, buzzing fluorescence of the hall light. She was holding her phone in one hand, her tan leather purse slung across her slim body.

“I thought you looked like you could use a hug,” she said, as she pocketed her phone.

Kaz took the last two stairs carefully, coming to stand in front of her. She smelled like vanilla and coconut oil – like something he wanted to wake up to every morning.

“You came all the way back for a hug,” he wanted to clarify. His hands – he should do something with his hands. What would Matthias do with his hands?

No. What do I want to do with my hands?

So, he looped a couple fingers through her belt loops. Tugged her a little closer. And she smiled.

“Technically,” she said, “Matthias came all the way back so I could bring you some samples.” She patted her purse, which did look a little bulkier. “They were in his car the whole time.”

“Mmmm.” He pretended to look tantalized. “Hot car samples. Delicious.”

Inej was twisting her fingers in the t-shirt fabric at the crest of his hips. Tugging him a little closer, too. God, it was so good. She’d been so right. He had wanted a hug.

“I know that’s how I want my protein powder,” she teased. “Piping hot, right out of the oven.”

“Just how Ma used to make it,” Kaz added, with a good bit of feigned nostalgia. Inej blurted out a laugh, tipping forward until her forehead bumped his sternum.

At that first brush, it was like his hands knew what to do from there. They slipped around her waist while her hands slid around his. And she pressed her cheek against his chest while he held her close.

“You are not insufficient,” Inej said against him.

“I would really like to pretend that never happened,” he said with a sigh, resting his chin on top of her head.

“Too late,” she hummed, happily, and gave him a light squeeze. He smiled against her hair.

“You know I wouldn’t want you to be like Matthias, right?” she asked.

“You shouldn’t even want Matthias to be like Matthias,” Kaz grumbled.

“Hey,” and Inej pulled back to look up at him with her big, soft brown eyes. “I mean it. I just want you to be you. I don’t want all the handsy stuff. That’s what Nina likes. I just like you.”

Kaz carefully pushed back a few strands of her hair from her forehead.

“Not even a little handsy stuff?” he checked, which made Inej give her coy little smirk, his very favorite.

“Maybe a little handsy stuff,” she said.

If there were ever going to be a time to kiss her, it would be now. But when he thought it, Kaz felt his heart make an enormous leap into his throat, seizing in panic. If he touched her mouth with his, if he closed his eyes and felt her face so close to his, would he just end up floundering in The Very Sad Thing again? What if it happened while he was kissing her? Would every kiss after that be tainted? Could he risk it – could he ever?

So, he didn’t move to meet her lips. He let his hands fall to the small of her back, though, and kept her close for another moment. Like a sample of physical affection, and she seemed okay with that. He would will himself to believe it was not insufficient.

“Drive me home?” she asked after a moment, with a kind of sweet, eager anticipation that made Kaz believe in magic. He nodded, of course.

“I’ll go up and get my keys,” he said. “And you throw away those samples.”

Inej laughed, following him up.

“Deal,” she said.

-----------------------------------

Tagging: @annejulianneh111, @loveyatopluto, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @whosanxiety, @raging-bisexual-alert,

[fxckingghxst]

Cure You With Cuddles

Pairing: Corpse Husband x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: none

WC: ~1.2k

Request: Hello hello could you maybe write a corpse x reader where reader is dealing with a Crohn’s flareup and corpse just generally comforts them? I saw where he said someone he cares about has Crohn’s and I was like “omg EYE have Crohn’s too!” anyways thank u so much I hope you are having a great day!! 

A/N: Thank you for requesting this and sorry it’s so late! Work and school got the better of me and my brain died a few times while trying to write this lol. I had to do some research on Crohn’s so I hope I got some aspects of it correct. Anyways, here you go! (Also might change the name in the future idk man it’s 1 a.m and brain is starting to shut down again). 

“Babe? Is that you?” You hear Corpse call out to you as you walk into the apartment you two share. You grit your teeth as another cramp rips through your abdomen. Your hand was clutching your stomach to try and diffuse one pain with another, but to no avail; it still hurt like a bitch. 

“Yeah. I’m home.” You reply before starting to peel off your jacket. Corpse emerges from the bedroom and his face lights up upon seeing you home- much earlier than he had anticipated. But your pained smile answered his question as to why you were home this early. 

“Are you feeling alright? Is it another flare-up?” He asks as he meets you halfway, his arms immediately coming out to bring you into his. You groan and nod into his shoulder as you bring your arms up to wrap around his waist. 

“They sent me home early.” You mention as Corpse starts to rub your back. Something he always did since your back, and stomach, were always the first to feel the effect of a flare-up. 

“What do you need me to do?” Corpse says as he pushes you away slightly so he can look at your face. He cups your cheeks in his hands and brushes his thumbs over the skin of your cheekbones.

“Didn’t you mention streaming sometime today?” You question as you remember your conversation before you left for work this morning. He was nervous for this stream, as he always was, and you remember mentioning trying to leave early to help calm his nerves. 

“That’s not until way later. Let me help you feel better, yeah?” He says as he leans forward to press a quick kiss against your forehead. The simple action warms your cheeks as you make eye contact with him.

“Thank you.” You say simply as you nudge yourself back into his chest for a hug. His chest vibrates with a soft chuckle as he kisses the top of your head and rubs your back again. 

“Of course. Now, go get changed and I’ll bring you everything you need.” Corpse says as he drops his arms to his side. You frown at the loss of contact, but you listen to his orders and walk to the bedroom to get changed into something more comfortable. 

You hate to admit it, but laying down felt even worse. At least when you were on your feet you were moving and thinking about something else. But now, all you could feel was your body throbbing in pain and your head foggy with drowsiness. 

You turn your head, slowly as to not pass out, as Corpse walks into the room with his hands full. You start to get up to go and help him but he stops you with a pointed look. 

You turn your head, slowly as to not pass out, as Corpse walks into the room with his hands full. You start to get up to go and help him but he stops you with a pointed look. 

“Don’t you dare move, babe. I’ve got this.” He says as he makes his way over to you. He kneels down and sets the glass of water—that he surprisingly doesn’t spill at all, on the nightstand along with your medication, and a bowl of fruit. “One more thing,” Corpse says as he holds his finger up and walks back out of the room. You start to open your medication and dump the pills into your hands. 

Corpse walks back in as you swallow your pills with the water that he had brought and you smile as you realize he brought out the heated blanket. He walks over to you and places the blanket over you before plugging it into the wall. 

“Do you need anything else? Are you hungry?” Corpse asks you and you practically melt at how caring he is.  

“No, I just want you to cuddle with me.” You say as you give him puppy-dog eyes and pucker out your bottom lip. Corpse smiles and doesn’t waste any time as he climbs over you to the empty spot on the bed. He lands very ungracefully and with a ‘humph’ coming from his mouth and you laugh as he twists his body to adjust comfortably. He finally gets comfy and he turns his head to face you. 

“Are you done?” You tease. He furrowed his eyebrows and held up a finger before dramatically readjusting, then pausing, and then doing it one more time. You laugh at his antics before grabbing his arm to get him to stop moving. He stops his movements at your touch and looks over at you again.

“Now I’m done.” He states with a small nod as he lays his arm over your stomach and starts to rub gentle circles over your shirt. 

“You’re such a dork.” You say as you scoot closer towards Corpse to rest your head on his chest. He laughs lightly at your comment and places a kiss on the crown of your head. 

“So, how was work?” He questions as he moves his arm under your head to pull you closer to him. 

“Work was work.” You reply as your stomach tenses with another cramp. “How about you? How was your day?” You ask as you continue to try to distract yourself from the pain in your abdomen. 

“Nothing interesting.” He responds with a small shrug of his shoulders. 

“Are you still nervous about the stream?” You ask as the blanket starts to heat up against your aching body. 

“Yeah, I’m trying not to think about it too much,” Corpse says.

“I can sit in with you if you want me to.” You offer as you angle your head up to look at his face.

“It’s alright. You need to rest.” He says while giving you a small smile. His arm that was under your head angles so that his fingertips gently caress your scalp. You hum in approval of his motions and you lose your train of thought. You were going to say something about you not caring about resting and you wanting to spend time with him, but as soon as his fingers moved against your scalp your brain practically melted. 

“Fine, but only because I can’t think of a good argument when you do this.” You reply in a muffled voice. 

“Good.” He simply responds as he continued the circular motions on your head. You had barely noticed that his other hand that had been rubbing your stomach had stopped and you were starting to forget about the pain in your stomach as your eyes were growing heavy.

“Thank you. I appreciate you so much.” You mumble and you feel his chest vibrate with, what you assumed was, laughter and his lips pressing against your head one last time before surrendering to sleep.

“I appreciate you just as much. Sleep well, baby.”       

[rhysismydaddy]

Naughty Neighbors pt. 4 (Elriel)

I’m thinking there’s going to be two/three more parts to this. I know it’s longer than what I usually put out, but I did mention it’s a slow burn, so... Idk. I really like it and want to keep writing it. 

DRUNK NOTE: thank god I wrote this earlier because i’m too far gone to do much editing hahah sorry if there’s errors also sorry it’s short

__________________________________________________________

~Elain~

For exactly three horrible seconds of Elain’s life, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t so much as breathe as she stands there, holding him to her, mouth pressed against his. 

It’s absolutely horrifying. 

But then he pulls back just enough to murmur, “Holy fuck, Elain.”

And then he kisses her. 

Walking forward, he presses her against the wall, sheltering her with his body and caging her in. 

She’s quickly becoming addicted to the way his chest is pressed against hers, hard muscle dragging against her now-heavy breasts in a way that makes her pant. 

But that’s nothing compared to the addiction she was forming for how he kissed her. 

It’s deep and heavy and so seductive her knees go a bit weak. He--Azriel--seems to notice and slides a knee in between her legs, which helps keep her upright but does absolutely no favors for the growing ache at the apex of her thighs. 

Gods above.

Elain shoves her hands in his hair to keep him close to her, and his go to her hips, then slide around to her backside, then run across her waist. He’s everywhere, hands and body surveying every inch of her, but his mouth moves consistently slow against hers. 

She feels like he can’t get enough of her, like she's driving him crazy. And she fucking loves it, because she’s never felt like this before. 

Never... been kissed like this before. 

He moves to her neck, then down to the top of her breasts. “Azriel,” she moans. Or maybe begs. 

His head snaps up, eyes meeting hers instantly. His usual honey and moss colored eyes are dark, lined with urgency and desire and maybe just a little crazy. “That’s going to be the fucking death of me.”

Before she can analyze that, they’re kissing again, and Elain can’t stop herself from running her hands over his chest and abs, then pulling him even closer. 

Azriel presses his hips into hers, and she gasps into his mouth, making him smile. She reaches behind her to open the door and take him inside, but he stops her with a hand on her wrist. 

“Elain.”

Still a little breathless, she whispers, “What?”

Taking a healthy step away from her, he shakes his head and says, “We can’t... I’m not going in there.”

“What?” she repeats, beyond confused. She’d thought he’d wanted to... and his body had definitely wanted to...

“I’m not taking you to bed while you belong to another man, Elain.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.”

“Maybe not your body,” he agrees, placing a wide hand on her chest, right above her heart. “But I want this to be mine. And you’re going to give it to me.”

Her mouth is open, probably grazing the floor, but she just stares at him in disbelief. Azriel smiles softly, runs a thumb over her bottom lip, then kisses her cheek. “Goodnight, Elain.”

Then he turns and goes inside his apartment, the door shutting between them with a deafeningly quiet click. 

~Azriel~

Yeah, I’m one dumb motherfucker. 

I had the girl I’d been pathetically pining for finally kissing me, finally admitting she wants me, and I told her I wasn’t going to have sex with her. 

And where does that leave me? With a fucking painful erection and the urge to put my fist through a wall. 

I head straight for the bathroom and turn the shower to the coldest setting possible. But even as the ice water runs over me, my blood continues to thrum. 

Good gods, I want to kiss her again. 

I want to kiss her all the time. 

Her full mouth fits mine perfectly, and the way she kissed me... no cold shower is going to get me to forget that. Not to even mention the way her body felt under my hands, the soft curves practically begging to be touched. 

Shoving my head against the tile, I try to ignore all that. But it doesn’t do an ounce of good, because then I think about the way she said my name. 

It was so natural for her, even though she’d learned it ten minutes before. She’d said it like it was everything to her, like a precious gift she’d never return. 

By the time I cut the shower off and flop in bed, I’m exhausted, so when the phone rings, I ignore it and shut my eyes. But it rings again, and I see that it’s Mor, so I answer. “What?”

“Wow, thank you for that heart-warming greeting,” she teases. “Bad night?”

“No, I’m just-” thinking about Elain and don’t want to talk to you at the moment, “tired.”

Thing about Mor is, she can always tell when I’m lying.

“Something happened! What happened?” 

“She kissed me,” I tell my best friend, smile on my face. 

Mor howls on the other end of the line, making me laugh. “I told you making her jealous would work!”

“Yeah, yeah, you were right. It worked. She wanted to...” Cursing, I cut myself off. She doesn’t need to know everything. 

She, apparently, doesn’t hold that belief. “And did you?” 

“No, we didn’t. I want her... I want her to love me first, Mor.”

She’s quiet for a few moments, but then she says softly, “You really like her, huh?” I stay quiet, but it’s answer enough. “Then make her fall in love with you.”

“Oh, I plan on it,” I chuckle, because it’s true. Now that I know what I’m missing, I don’t want to waste another minute without it. “But I have to be well-rested to trick fair maidens into loving me, so goodnight. Love you.”

“Love you too, stupid.”

I hang up and stare at the ceiling, still smiling like an idiot. 

My very helpful brain thinks about Elain on the other side of that wall, lying in bed doing the same thing, thinking about me. 

I tell it to shut up and go to sleep, but the stupid bastard doesn’t listen. 

The last thing I think before finally falling asleep is that I can’t fucking wait to see Elain tomorrow. 

~

Elain doesn’t go to work all week. 

I know because it’s Friday, and I’ve been by the store every single day since Monday. Some girl named Christine has been there, and she gives me a weird look every time she notices me peeking in. 

Honestly, I don’t get it. 

Last time she tried to avoid me, she was embarrassed and knew I’d tease her. This time... I didn’t do anything wrong, right?

Maybe she’s sick. 

Or maybe she just feels guilty. That’s probably it. I haven’t heard the boyfriend come around this week, and she’s not the kind of girl to dump someone over the phone. So maybe she’s waiting until she sees him and ends things to see me. 

The thought makes me smile, drawing a raised eyebrow from the guy I’m currently tattooing. 

“You look like you’re thinking about a girl,” the old biker-looking man remarks with a gruff. I can’t help but grin and shrug and he sighs. “Just don’t fuck up my tattoo.”

I nod and focus, shoving all thoughts of Elain into a small box in the corner of my mind. 

But the damn box won’t stay closed, and by the time I leave work that night, I don’t care if she’s trying to do the right thing and avoid me. I have to see her. 

Even if nothing happens, I have to see her. 

The week’s been boring without her soft smiles and cute little dresses, and I want to hear what she’s been up to, cooped up in that apartment. 

I practically run up the stairs and down the hall to her door, already smiling as I knock. It takes a few minutes for the door to open, but when it does, the smile falls away and takes every last drop of happiness with it. 

She looks awful. 

I mean, she’s always beautiful, but she looks like she hasn’t slept or eaten since I last saw her. Her hairs a dirty mess, she’s in a raggedy sweatshirt and sweatpants, and there’s dark circles under her big brown eyes. 

Eyes that don’t hold an ounce of happiness to see me. “What do you want?”

The question throws me, but I answer honestly. “I wanted to see you. Are you alright?”

Elain doesn’t answer, just stands there for a minute. Then she says, “Leave me alone.”

The door swings towards me, but I jut a hand out and stop it from closing. “What’s wrong? Did I do something?”

Because like Mor’s told me for years, it’s always the man’s fault. Even when it isn’t the man’s fault, it’s the man’s fault. 

Whatever it is, I’ll apologize and smile and tease her until she’s smiling, too.

“Did you do something?” she repeats in a small voice, eyes going a bit misty. 

The sight hits me hard, and I take a step forward, but she shoots out a hand and shoves me back. “Stay the fuck away from me.”

If it wasn’t the unusual curse that stops me dead in my tracks, it’d be the way her voice sounded as she said it. None of the usual warmth, no soft laughter. 

She sounds... she sounds like she hates me. And I can’t take it. “Elain, what the hell did I do?”

~Elain~

Is he serious? What did I do? 

The genuine confusion on his face makes the carefully-crafted dam she’s been building around herself burst. “What was this to you? Some sort of sick game?”

“What are you-”

“You tried your goddamn best to drive me crazy, and like a complete idiot, I let you! How stupid could I have been...” She looks up at the ceiling as if that will give her the strength to face him, to say the words. “To think you wanted me.” 

His eyes go wide, and she lets out a humorless laugh. “Elain-”

But there’s no going back now, and there’s no stopping the words from coming out.

“Oh, save the bullshit. You got what you wanted. You proved I’m a horrible girlfriend and an even worse human being, so just leave me alone.”

Before he can respond, she demands, “And what was that crap about wanting my heart? You’re a pathological liar. It’s just not enough for me to cheat on Lucien with you, is it? You want me to fall in love with you.”

His jaw is tight, hands bunched into fists, but he stays silent. 

Tears are streaming down her face, but she forces herself to glare and say, “That will never happen. I’m not stupid enough to love you.”

She slams the door in his face, then drops to the floor to cry. Pressing a hand to her chest, she tries hopelessly to ignore the voice in her head telling her if that were true, this wouldn’t hurt so damn much. 

____________________________________________________________

Uh, can I just say right now that I’m sorry? Hang in there. I TOLD YOU IT’S A SLOW BURN. Part 5

@bamchickawowow @astreia-oniria @keshavomit @elrielllll @januarystears @zukos-simp @whimsyrhys @lameomclameo @wineywitch202 @thedarkdemigod @captainthefangirlofhp @elriel4life @queen-of-glass @courtofjurdan @nessiantho @texas-shaped-waffle-maker @stardelia @myshadowsingeraz @tswaney17 @illyriangarbage @nicerhero @fancycrowncat @sjmships @poisonous00 @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @a-bit-of-a-cactus @aesthetics-11 @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

[waitimcomingtoo]

Hello darling! Currently obsessed with your writing! Srsly best seller list is shaking. Could I possibly request a peter Parker x reader where she falls asleep on peter while he’s doing homework at his desk and may walks in and it’s just cute and fluffy? Idk run with it. Thank you for existing!!💕

thank you!!

A Soft Place to Land

Pairing: Best Friend Peter Parker x Reader

Synopsis: Aunt May finds you and Peter in a compromising position

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED

“PP.” You cut off your own sentence with a yawn. “Do you have your physics notebook?”

Peter swiveled in his chair and looked at you. You were sprawled out on his bed, lying on your tummy with your laptop in front of you, eyes dropping from exhaustion. Peters own textbooks and papers were strewn across the bed, bordering your body like an outline of chalk. Peter couldn’t help but smile at the sight, knowing his sheets would smell your perfume once you went home.

“I do.” Peter confirmed. “Do you need it?”

“Would you mind if I copied your notes? Mr. Brighton writes too fast and I missed the section on force.” You said slowly, signaling to Peter that you were beyond tired.

“No problem.” Peter smiled kindly and tossed his notebook at you. You failed to catch it and were hit in the face at full speed, letting out a surprised “oof.” Peter winced at his mistake.

“Oops.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You laughed tiredly. “Woke me up a little.” You yawned again, this time turning away and disguising it into your shoulder so Peter wouldn’t see.

“Y/n, you should take a nap.” Peter suggested out of concern for you and your wellbeing, the only thing he was ever really concerned with. “I’ll move my stuff to the desk. You can sleep in my bed.”

Peters choice of words sent him back to another moment in time.

Peter saw you through you window and collapsed onto your fire escape. You were working diligently at your desk, and Peter hated the idea of taking you away from your work, but he needed you. Only you. Too weak to raise his arm, he hit his forehead against your window until it caught your attention.

“PP?” You asked in a hushed voice as you rushed to your window and opened it as quickly as you could. “How did you get up here? Did you climb the fire escape?”

“Not exactly.” Peter said with a pained smile as you helped him inside.

“What does ‘not exactly’ mean?” You asked, sounding like a parent as you sat Peter down on your bed. Peter gingerly sat down, wincing with every movement. He felt your heart rate pick up and he berated himself for worrying you.

“I climbed next to the fire escape.” Peter said sluggishly.

“On the wall?” You laughed, not believing him. You finally noticed how badly he was beaten. In the soft glow of your desk lamp, you could see bruises on Peters knuckles and under his eyes. He was sweaty and dirty, and definitely did not come from decathlon practice like he said he did. “What happened?” You asked calmly.

“I found the guy who killed Uncle Ben.” Peter have you a half hearted smile. It’d been three months since Peters uncle was shot right in front of him. Peter didn’t speak about it. He didn’t mention his name, or what happened. His casual drop of his deceased uncles name made You filly realize the extent of the situation. Peter was hurt, badly, and he had come to you. This wasn’t the time for questions. This was the time to help Peter.

“Okay.” You said calmly, looking into Peters tired eyes and giving him a comforting look. You sat down on the bed and placed a hand in his knee. “You found the guy who killed uncle Ben.” You repeated, so he knew you heard him.

“But he also found me.” Peter mumbled before collapsing forward into your arms. He was in and out of consciousness as you caught him and gently laid him on your bed, resting him against the headboard.

“Stay there.” You commanded, though he physically couldn’t disobey you. He couldn’t move. He let his aching body rest against your soft sheets, knowing they’d smell like his cologne when he went home. Peter opened one eye, the eye that wasn’t swollen shut, and watched you. You were in sleep shorts and an oversized decathlon t-shirt, looking as beautiful as ever. You paced back and forth around, collecting various things to patch Peter up. Your makeup free face was full of concern, which made Peters heart ache. Coincidentally, it was the only part of him not currently aching. He didn’t want you to worry. It wasn’t your responsibility. But he had no where else to go.

“Okay.” You said with medical supplies stacked up to your chin. “This is all I got.”

Peter wanted to tell you that it was more than enough, but he only had the strength for a weak, “Thank you.”

“Shh. Don’t waste your energy.” You hushed up as you propped him up against your headboard again, since he had begun to slouch. He wanted to take some of the work off of you, but could only be moved around like a rag doll. He gave you a grateful smile. In your eyes, it was enough.

“I’m gonna have to…um.” Your eyes darted down to his chest. He was wearing a huge, old fashioned looking brown jacket over some light blue sweat pants and red water shoes. Had he been in better condition, you would’ve questioned his outfit. Peter looked into your eyes and gave you a tired nod. You didn’t recognize the look in his eyes. He looked almost fearful, and a little hesitant. You unbuttoned his large jacket and slid it off his shoulders. You folded it neatly, noticing the initials “BFP” on the tag. So it was Bens, you thought. He was running around the city, in the dead of night, getting beat up in Bens jacket. You gave Peter a sorrowful look before your eyes trailed down to what was under the jacket. He wore a red hoodie with a spider drawn on it in sharpie. The sleeves were cut out and blue sleeves to match his sweatpants were poorly sewn in.

“Y/n-“ Peter croaked.

“I understand.” You cut him off. You looked him in the eyes and gave him a gentle smile. Your eyes told him that you were telling the truth. “You don’t have to explain anything to me until you’re ready. All that matters to me is getting you patched up, okay?”

“Okay.” Peter said weakly, wishing he could say more. He had so much he wanted to tell you. So much.

“I’m gonna have to unzip it now.” You warned him. “Is that okay?”

Peter gave you another nod. Not wanting to make the situation anymore awkward, you quickly unzipped the hoodie and slid it off his shoulders. Peters normally scrawny body was replaced with a six pack of abs. You gulped and felt your face heat up, hoping he couldn’t tell.

He could.

A deep gash, likely from a knife, was in his lower abdomen. He had other miscellaneous cuts and bruises covering his body. He was in bad shape, worse than you thought, but nothing you couldn’t fix. Your eyes slowly trailed up his body and met his eyes. Peter was staring at you, desperate to read your reaction.

“Are you scared?” He whispered. You laughed lightly and shook your head.

“Of you, PP? You wish.” You teased. You dampened a Cotton ball with hydrogen peroxide and gently dabbed it on the gash. It wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, and almost looked like it was healing in its own. You then applied some Neosporin and one by one, adhered a pink Hello Kitty band aid to the cut until it was covered. Peter noticed your choice of band aids and laughed, sending an ache through his chest.

“Cute.” He smiled.

“I couldn’t find the dinosaur ones.” You genuinely apologized, making Peters heart grow fonder for you.

“It’s okay.” Peter said, using all that was left if his strength to brush stray hair away from your face. You looked at him as he did it, and leaned into his hand. Peter smiled, grateful that through it all, he was still PP to you, the dumb nickname you gave him when you were kids when you couldn’t pronounce “Peter.”

“Should I be worried about you?” You whispered, your fingertips brushing his hand before closing you hand around his wrist, keeping his palm on your cheek.

“If I say no, will you be worried anyway?” Peter asked, feeling a little strength return.

“I’ll always worry about you, PP.” You said sincerely.

“I promise, I’ll explain it all one day.” Peter swore. You seemed content with his answer.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You told him as you tilted his chin towards your face. Peter froze, thinking you were going to kiss him. Instead, you pulled out a Cotten swab and gently dabbed it on the cut on Peters lip. A plus side to his powers, hydrogen peroxide didn’t sting anymore. After cleaning the cut, you leaned in to blow on it. Your puckered lips were almost touching Peters. Peter gulped and did his best to keep his pulse from getting to crazy. You then dabbed some Neosporin on his lip and got to work on the rest of his cuts.

Peter fell asleep in the middle of you playing nurse. When he woke up, he was in your biggest shirt, and a loose pair of sweatpants he’d seen your brother wearing before. He was fully under your covers now, and resting comfortably against your pillow. He slowly opened his eyes and saw you sitting at your desk.

“Y/n?” He called out, making you turn around.

“Yes, PP?” You said.

“I’m Spider-Man.” Peter admitted. His mouth moved faster than his brain. He didn’t think it through. He just told you.

“No.” You said sarcastically, and shot him a smile. Peter felt relived at your reaction.

“I feel better now. I can head home.” He groaned, and painfully tried to sit up. You rushed to his side and tried to get him to lie down again.

“You’re not going anywhere.” You laughed at his absurdity. “I texted May from your phone and said you were sleeping at Ned’s.”

“But I’m not.” Peter pointed out.

“I know.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re sleeping here.”

“Y/n, you don’t have to do that. That’s too much to ask.” Peter protested your hospitality.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” You assured Peter. “And of course I do. You’re my best friend. And May can’t see you like this. You’re gonna stay here tonight.” You told him, absentmindedly tucking him in. Peter laughed at you slipping into motherly behavior. “You can sleep in my bed.”

“I can’t.” You said, breaking Peter away from the memory. “I have to finish this essay.”

“What you have to do is get some sleep.” Peter insisted, throwing a paper ball at you when he noticed you beginning to doze off. “How many hours did you get last night?”

“Dunno.” You said sleepily, resting your tired head on your hand. “One-teen.”

“One-teen?” Peter asked in concern.

“Mhm.” You nodded, head drooping further and further down until your arm slipped out from under you and you face planted into your textbook. “Maybe it was twelve-ty.”

“Y/n, you’re making me worried.” Peter chewed his bottom lip.

“The static on the TV makes you worried.” You pointed out.

“Because it makes a scary sound.” Peter defended. “Don’t change the subject. You need to get some sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak.” You yawned.

“That can’t be true, because you’re the strongest person I know.” Peter quipped.

“Even stronger than that guy you fought who was made of sand?” You asked with hooded eyes.

“Yes, because he was made of sand.” Peter deadpanned.

“Mmm.” You laughed sleepily. “Sand. Yummy.”

“Okay, now I know you’re exhausted if you think sand is yummy.” Peter said, amazed that you were still in denial.

“What did you say, honey?” You murmured.

“No, not honey.” Peter laughed, cheeks hearing up at the accidental pet name. “I said yummy.”

“What’s funny?” You asked, now purposely misunderstanding him.

“Oh my goodness.” Peter laughed again. “Have you slept at all this week?”

“I have no time.” You sighed, eyes reluctantly going back to your essay.

“I can finish this essay for you.” Peter offered.

“I can’t ask you to do that.” You informed him.

“You’re not asking. I’m telling you.” Peter repeated your words from that night, wondering if you recalled that memory too.

“No, PP. You have your own work you need to do.” You insisted.

“My stuff isn’t due until next week.” Peter reminded you. “You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. Just this once.”

You seemed to consider his offer. “I won’t let you do my actual essay, because that’s cheating, but I’ll allow you to help me.”

“Fine by me.” Peter shrugged.

“Okay.” You gave in and went over to where he was sitting at his desk. “Scoot.”

Peter moved over in his swivel chair and let you share the seat with him. You rested your back against the arm rest and laid your legs on top of his before handing him your laptop. “I have my thesis statement and everything else, but I have no idea if it’s even coherent. It feels a little messy.”

“Here’s what I do.” Peter began to explain how he structured his essays. About halfway though his explanation, he felt pressure on his shoulder. You had rested your head there and were listening to him with a content smile.

“Keep going. I’m listening.” You assured him, letting out another yawn after. Peter kept going and soon picked up on your breathing slowing down. You stretched a little, your nose brushing his jawline and ended up even deeper in the crook of his neck. You began to lazily play with the buttons on his button down.

“Alright.” Peter said softly, not trusting his voice to be steady. “Then, I draw back to my thesis and make a connection. It should be a very obvious connection so that the person reading it-“ Peter stopped when he heard the soft whistle of your breath. He carefully adjusted himself and wrapped an arm around you, just so his arm wouldn’t fall asleep, or at least that’s what he told himself. He also didn’t want you to slip and fall off the chair. You ended up snuggling deeper into his side and throwing an arm around his waist. Peter smiled to himself and pulled your laptop in front of him. He revised your work and nodded in approval. You didn’t have much left, just needing proofreading. Peter took his time reading your essay, editing what needed to be fixed and making some corrections. He finished in about half an hour and emailed it to your teacher. He then picked up your planner and looked at what else you needed to get done. In your signature handwriting, was the following:

Write essay Copy(steal) PP’s physics notes Find quote for English project

Peter checked the time, and then your sleeping face. It was 11 now, and your curfew was 12. He could copy his notes into your notebook and find a quote in under an hour. He’d be damned if he couldn’t. And so, Peter took out your black marble notebook with the little Spider-Man stickers and began to copy his notes down. As he worked with his right hand, his left hand rubbed soothing circles onto your back. You let out soft noises in your sleep, that Peter found it hard not to fawn over. He got halfway through copying when he door opened.

“Are you guys-,” May said at full volume until Peter held a finger to his lips. A pretty harsh finger, one might add. May grimaced and nodded. “Are you guys alright? Need anything from me?” She said in a softer tone.

“We’re okay.” Peter whispered back. “I gotta get her home soon.”

“How long has she been out?” May asked.

“About an hour.” Peter replied.

“And how much sleep had she been getting?” May sighed, knowing you and your habits.

“None.” Peter sighed as well. “I don’t want to wake her so I’ll probably swing her back home, if that’s alright.”

“But that means you’ll have to swing back alone.” May reminded him. “I thought you hated swinging that late?”

Peter shrugged. “It’s okay. I’d rather get her home safely. That’s all that matters.”

“You’re a good boyfriend.” May smirked, already anticipated her nephews reaction. “Holding her while she sleeps and helping her with her work.”

“I’m not her boyfriend.” Peter said quickly, and a little too loudly, causing you to stir in your sleep and hug Peter a little tighter. “I’m her best friend, who’s a boy. Not her boyfriend. There’s a difference.”

“Is there?” May squinted her eyes.

“Yes.” Peter stated. “She doesn’t think of me like that.”

“But you think of her like that.” May said, as more of a statement than a question.

“Yes.” Peter nodded, then shut his eyes tightly. “I mean, no. No. She’s my friend.”

“Right. Of course.” May said sweetly. “Girlfriend.” She added under her breath.

“What was that?” Peter snapped.

“Peter, this is nothing to be ashamed of. You’re growing. Your body is flourishing now. It’s okay if your Peter tingle tingles just for her.” May teased.

“Please stop saying “tingle” May.” Peter groaned.

“All I’m saying is, I fell in love with my best friend too once.” May held up her hands in defense.

“Oh yeah?” Peter said sarcastically. “Then what happened?”

“Then I became Mrs. Parker.” May smiled.

Peter fell silent, focusing only on your breathing as he absentmindedly twirled your hair around his finger.

“May?” He said softly.

“Yes, Peter?” May answered.

“What do I do if she doesn’t feel the same?” Peter wondered out loud. It was his biggest fear. Him, finding the courage to tell you how he feels, and you rejecting him. Saying something like “aw, PP, you know I love you but-“ and then some recycled rejection that would utterly devastate Peter as he nodded along with a smile. He couldn’t bear the thought.

“Do you know how she feels?” May asked, knowing a little more than Peter. She had an outsider perspective on your relationship. She saw all the stolen glances and lingering looks that you two didn’t catch.

“Yes.” Peter huffed. May tilted her head to the side.

“Did you ask?” She continued.

“No.” Peter said sheepishly, knowing the point his aunt was trying to make.

“Then you don’t know.” May told him.

“We’ve been best friends for years. She would’ve said something by now if she felt that way about me.” Peter defended.

“Have you said something?” May folded her arms.

“No.” Peter said harshly, before realizing what May was trying to say.

“Then why would you expect her to?” May delivered the final blow. Peter knew he had lost the argument.

“I don’t like it when you get all omnipotent on me.” Peter grumbled. He looked at your sleeping face and sighed. He wanted to tell you. He did. And he wanted more times like this. He’d hold you every night if he could.

“That’s what aunts are for.” May smiled in triumph. Peter was quiet again.

“May?” He said finally.

“Yes, Peter?” She asked, having a feeling where he was going with it.

“I feel that way.” He admitted, without taking his eyes off your notes. “About her.”

“I know you do, Peter.” May nodded in understanding. She could tell her nephew had feelings for you long before he knew it himself.

“What do I do?” Peter asked, looking up sadly at May.

“Talk to her. You’ll know where to go from there.” May advised.

“And if I don’t?” Peter asked.

“She’ll know.” May said with an all knowing smile. She blew Peter a goodnight kiss and shut the door quietly. You stirred at the sound and slowly took your head off Peters shoulder. He went back to his work and pretended he never stopped it as you stretched.

“What time is it, PP?” You asked through a yawn.

“Quarter after 11.” Peter answered you, speaking in a low tone so you didn’t get startled.

“I gotta get home soon.” You sighed and adjusted your position, never taking your legs off his lap. You stretched towards the sky, but wrapped your seams around Peters neck this time when you finished. He felt his ears burn at your half asleep action. You were always clingy when you were tired, and right now, you were exhausted.

“I’ll swing you back.” Peter offered, pretending to be fully invested on your notes and not on the way your breath tickled his neck.

“You don’t have to.” You told him as you rubbed your eyes.

“And let you walk home in the dark all alone? I don’t think so.” Peter sounded almost insulted, but still had his signature playful tone.

You laughed lightly and rested your head back on Peters shoulder. He didn’t complain. He’d been missing the warmth you created.

“May was right.” You said quietly through a sleepy smile. Peter was a good boyfriend, you thought.

“What was that?” Peter asked. He had heard, but didn’t know what you meant.

“Nothing. Just a dream I had.” You shrugged and sighed in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Oh.” Peter said, not sure what else to say.

“Do you ever have those dreams that make you wake up with crushes on people you didn’t think you’d have a crush on?” You asked him, feeling a little more awake. The nap had helped, though you’d never admit it to Peter.

“Yeah, I do. Is that what you had? Do you have a crush on a boy at school?” Peter asked, jealously seeping into him like water through a crack in a boat.

“Kind of.” You nodded. “I had a dream a boy confessed his feelings for me, but not to me.”

“Oh.” Peter said simply. “How do you feel now?”

“Disappointed.” You laughed sadly.

“You’re disappointed that the boy likes you?” Peter said, barely covering up the sadness in his voice. He knew he was the boy. You must’ve heard the conversation with May in your sleep and thought you dreamed it.

“No.” You shook your head with a sleepy smile. “I’m disappointed that it was only a dream.”

Peter as quiet for awhile, thinking about what May had told him. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.” Peter looked you in your tired eyes. He nervously drummed his fingers on your leg.

“I wasn’t dreaming, PP, was I?” You realized suddenly. You looked to Peter for answers, who had that same look in his eyes as he did that night. Fearful, and a little hesitant.

“I like you, okay?” Peter admitted, knowing he was backed into a corner. “I like you and I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Because I’m supposed to be your best friend. I’m meant to be a soft place for you to land. I’m not supposed to be complicating your life and adding to your stress by developing feelings for you.” Peter said softly.

“This doesn’t complicate my life.” You said pointedly as you put your hands on his cheeks and made him look at you. “This only makes it better.”

“You like me?” Peter asked, wondering now if he was the one dreaming. “You like me, like me?”

“I do.” You smiled, your gaze dropping to his lips quickly before coming back up to meet his eyes. “Are you gonna make my dream come true, PP?”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @sunrise-shawn @meghan-8520xx @writing-for-hours-on-end @lavender-writer

[c-c-cherry]

Mista Whump headcanons? I loved his chapter in the dadbacchio fic!

Hi! I’m glad you’re liking Communication Breakdown so far, the new chapter should be out once I’m done with my Halloween stuff! <3

//content warning for whump-related shit (sickness, major injury, etc..)

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

I feel like I should just shove in my pre-established headcanons that I always have for Mista before I start like what I did for my man Jonathan:

-Oldest in the family and (ironically) has four younger sisters! 

-His parents worked a LOT growing up so he was often treated as the third parent growing up, doing almost everything for them in search of their approval

-It made him very responsible, but it also made him feel like he had to be responsible for everything and everyone

-That mindset followed him to where he is now; no matter how relaxed he seems to be, there’s always a feeling in the back of his head that he has to manage everything and be responsible for everyone’s safety and health

-Loves physical affection but would rather die than be an “active burden” on anyone

-Not in any form of contact with his family since he went to prison (and misses them a lot) ;(

◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇◆◇

Pain Tolerance

-Getting shot? Been there, done that. Kidnapped and interrogated? He can hold off for a surprisingly long amount of time. Drugged? Barely even phases him.

-We all know he probably has the highest pain tolerance in the entire team

-Partially because it seems like he always gets hurt no matter what he’s doing

-I headcanon him as the oldest in his family so he was always brought up to have really thick skin and was always thought to be the most responsible growing up

-His parents were working all the time, so that meant he had to take care of his siblings whenever they were hurt

-But meant when he was injured as a kid, he had to deal with it himself :/

-When he first joined the gang, it was:

1) weird not being the oldest, and

2) really weird having people actually worried about you when you got hurt

-Even with Giorno having Gold to help them out all the time and Giorno insisting that its literally his stand’s purpose, he still feels this weighted guilt every time he needs someone else’s help

-Our man acts all whiny about it but truthfully, if he was given the option, he would much rather ride it out on his own or deal with things himself :(

Injury

-In all honesty, he’s probably one of the only members of the team that wouldn’t be opposed to going to a hospital

-Whereas Bruno or Narancia would be fucking terrified of stepping foot in one again for obvious reasons, the rest of the gang are just pretty stubborn about it

...

-He tends to be overdramatic most of the time when he gets hurt, but you can tell when something is really hurting him when he’s absolutely silent

-It’s almost the opposite of his other team members; most of them get uncharacteristically loud and panicky when they’re in serious serious pain but it's almost like his brain just completely shuts down

-He gets so quiet that he’s basically unresponsive and his body keeps trying to numb itself as the pain gets worse and worse

-It always bites him in the ass later when his state starts wearing off and all the pain his body was blocking out comes back tenfold and it's just OUCH

...

-Mista’s a pretty touchy guy. He practically lives off human contact

-Except when he’s hurt.

-His body kicks into this weird overdrive where he wants no one to touch him and he’s just supposed to deal with it himself

-Idk how accurate this actually is in canon but I headcanon that Gold Experience’s healing methods don’t actually hurt that much, it's actually pretty soothing for most people

-The reason Mista always freaks out whenever Gold is healing him is because of his weird defense mechanism that kicks in when he’s hurt

Sickness

-His chapter in Comm Break was pretty much just a sickfic because I decided to give him appendicitis, but I have other headcanons hehehe…

-I was actually going to make him lactose intolerant in the first draft and the chapter being about him having no fucking idea why he was sick and Abbacchio just being like “...dude...”

-I eventually dropped it for something with similar elements but more of a dramatic plot, but I still like the headcanon that he’s too dumb to know that getting sick all the time after eating dairy just isn’t normal

...

-He loves taking care of other people because it reminds him of taking care of his sisters; like he’ll be willing to do anything and he’s a master at making people feel better :)

-But him?

-Oho,,,he fuckin hates being sick >:)

-Maybe not Giorno in The Unknown levels of hatred, but the fact that everyone does nothing but makes sure he’s okay the entire day gives him this warm, fluffy feeling in his chest that MAKES HIM EMOTIONALLY CONFUSED because no one ever gave a shit about him pre-passione

-Is he the type of person to completely deny any feeling of ailment until it’s definitely too late? YES. DEFINITELY.

-Usually it's one of the bucci gang who will figure out he’s under the weather before he does.

“You’re looking a bit pale...”

“Nope.”

“Are you feeling alright? You don’t look so good.”

“Totally fine!”

-He’ll refuse to rest until he passes out, is pressed up against the tiles on the bathroom floor, or someone (usually Bruno) shoves a thermometer in his mouth and proves that he absolutely HAS to

-Give him some medicine and he’ll pass out for HOURS. All he’ll do is sleep because he wants to get over it as soon as possible

Emotional Stress

-Mista’s like an open book when it comes to most emotions

-You might not know when he’s hurt, but you’ll sure as well know when he’s sad or stressed

-He’s not afraid to cry, and even though he probably won’t tell anyone why he’s sad, bottling up his emotions was just something that he was never prone to doing

-Bruno’s gotten used to finding him in the kitchen at 3am waiting for his bread to toast and there’s just tears and Bruno’s like “...Meesta ;-;”

-but then there’s hugs so it's ok :,)

-Also Mista is definitely the type of person to just kind of slink into a room and have someone be like “what’s up?” and he’s like “I’m feeling fucking terrible!! :))))” and before they can even reply BOOM WATERWORKS-

-He’s ultimately not ashamed of it because it helps keep him regulated in the long run (and the homies are always willing to provide him with that good comfort) :)

This sad shit is the exception though…

-When he’s with the bucci gang, he’s not afraid to let his emotions run wild sometimes because he knows it’s always little things to keep him chill

-Not about this, though. Because he actually considers this big

...

-Mista has eternal homesickness for his family.

-His parents, his sisters, his uncles and aunts and cousins.. they all cut contact when he went to prison

-It wasn’t a huge fight, but a slow burn of distancing from each other.

-He misses them so damn much. He misses his childhood home, and the way his Madre would cook, and the stupid shit his sisters used to do...

-It comes and goes in waves; most days the feelings don’t hit him but sometimes, especially on holidays, birthdays of his family members, and even his own birthday, it hits hard.

-Normally when something’s bothering him he doesn’t see a problem in just talking or venting to someone

-But with this it's different because he knows if he starts talking about it, it’ll just be uncontrollable and he’ll be a fucking mess if he even tries

-Mista, despite his demeanour, is extremely good at hiding his feelings when he has to ;-;

-He’s too embarrassed to tell anyone, so he spends a lot of those days curled up in his room, sobbing into his pillow

-Even on holidays, when it’s hard to celebrate at all, he manages to hold it in until celebrating is over

-He knows they all suspect something is up, but he also knows that they won’t push him to say anything

-They can all tell he gets fragile certain times of the year, so they try their best to be extra soft with him when he does decide to come out and spend time with them <3

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I really do love writing for Mista. I should do it more sometimes!!

Got a headcanon you want fulfilled? Askbox is open!! <3

[headofhelios]

For the ask thing: I can’t imagine shipping the invisible man 1933 with anyone but I do want to hear your invisible man 1933 thoughts. Also the T-1000 if you want!

oh ABSOLUTELY i'm doing both!!!

'33 INVISIBLE MAN

How I feel about this character DR. JACK GRIFFIN MY BELOVED!!! MY BESTIE!!! he's SUCH a neurotic little weirdo and i love him. the original transgender mad scientist. the origin of guys with fucked up unhinged laughs (his laugh inspired the joker laugh!!!). when he rocks back and forth and clenches his fists? I Get It. when he said "Even the MOON is frightened of me! Frightened to death! THE WHOLE WORLD is FRIGHTENED TO DEATH!" YES! KING! WE LOVE YOU!!

All the people I ship romantically with this character OKAY i also cannot imagine like . Shipping him w characters BUT that said his relationship w flora is pretty cute (his little "oh! you're wearing that hat, the one i always loved on you :)"... cute... also the way hes only normal around her and does everything to try to give her a good life... he's sweet i enjoy him)

My non-romantic OTP for this character see this is hard because he has like. no friends ucbdjfbfhf BUT he and flora would still be so so so sweet as besties!!! and there IS something about his line to kent about Why he left to finish his invisibility solution in another village ("i couldnt bear for you to see me fading away like that" or something) IS sweet and i feel like on jack's side it was a very important, close friendship (but i feel like kent thought much less of it just based on how quickly he wants to make a move on flora when jack's missing.) OH AND IF WE WANT TO GET INSANE W IT. i feel like he and herbert west could be besties. or they'd try to maim one another.

My unpopular opinion about this character ARE THERE ANY OPINIONS ON HIM? um you know what actually i'm probably the only person in the world who headcanons him as a trans man. like idk he has the same "trying to be god" thing that local tboy swag haver herbie w. has plus personally i attribute my Wanting-To-Be-Invisible as a child to being transgender. so. also throughout the movie people are horrified by the thought of his invisible body something something peoples horror at trans bodies. this makes sense in my head i promise ♥️

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon I JUST WISH HE'D GET MORE ATTENTION... dr. jack griffin my favorite guy jack griffin... hm i do also wish there had been a few more scenes where his old self shines through, like the scenes with flora, but mostly i just want him to be appreciated hfjfhffh he's fun! he's a silly goose! he derails trains!

1995 T-1000

How I feel about this character MY GUY!!! he is my favorite boy. he is my bestie. he is me. he is everything i want to be. i am so insane about this guy. he transed my gender SO fucking hard when i watched t2 for the first time. if it were socially acceptable i would name myself t-1000. i wish i were joking

All the people I ship romantically with this character the rev-9. i'm only half joking about this. ik ik the popular thing is him and the t-800 whatever i dont see it. him and the rev-9 though? Yes. Yes. fucked up robot boyfriends will make each other worse will murder people with knife arms as a date. liquid metal terminators stay together babe!!

My non-romantic OTP for this character i have a whole post t2 au but basically: i want him to be hate-besties with the t-800 (the t-1000 wants to maim him so bad but also they understand each other on a lot of things) AND ALSO i want him to be john's other robot uncle but significantly less responsible. he rents horror movies for john and sneaks him into r-rated movies. also he has to be told several times not to murder children who are mean to john.

My unpopular opinion about this character ohhh man. oh man. honestly i think its kind of unpopular to post abt him on tumblr and NOT ship him w the t-800 but i just dont see it i dont GET ITTT i have TRIED. but i just dont see it im sorry 😔 and then off tumblr. if i tell the average terminator enjoyer that the t-1000 is transgender i feel like they might attack me. but i'm right. also some ppl seem to think that the t-1000 doesn't feel emotions even though it clearly does? it shows confusion @ the mall mannequin, it expresses shock + pain in the steel mill, "i know this hurts"... plus it goes out of its way to keep things it enjoys (using the motorcycle even when it would be faster to run up the stairs, keeping the biker boots + pants on after switching outfits) and thats not even getting into the fact that the molecular brain is SO human.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon OH BOY. okay part of me understands WHY it was cut and appreciates the decision to cut it. but also part of me does still wish that the scene wherein the t-1000 locates an encampment of the connors allies and kills them all like some fucking slasher villain had at LEAST made it as far as the scriptwriting stage!!! give me my horror scenes in terminator movies!!!

[theworldsoul]

Uhh warning VENT!!! Talks about self harm and shit... also religious bullshit and gender bullshit??? Like I'm really trans and also Catholicism really fucked me up so if ur uncomfy with that just... skip this post. Also if ur Christian and can't handle seeing ur shit defaced then skip this post. Also if ur gonna clown on this post as "cringe atheism" then fuck you because I'm literally coping with pain lol

:readmore:

Anways now that the disclaimer is over... here comes the real shit.

I... have been going through a LOT lately, jesus christ. I was HAPPY today, yknow? I thought I was gonna be happy the whole day.

I was dancing today. That's how happy I was. For the first time in like... a whole year... I was really so happy. I thought I was gonna cry. But then I got home. And well,,,, I did cry. But not from happiness. I just got my math grade back. A fucking 49 percent. MY AVERAGE RIGHT NOW IS A 57 PERCENT. I MIGHT FAIL MATH 20. I MIGHT HAVE TO RETAKE IT. oh my god I'm such a failure I cant do anything ever i try SO fucking hard but honestly??? I cant fucking do this. I can't, I'm not mentally capable. "Just work harder"... BITCH I AM WORKING AS HARD AS I CAN. I AM SPENDING HOURS AND HOURS OF MY LIFE STUDYING AND PRACTICING. I'm starting to think that how hard i try doesn't even fucking matter because I'm STUPID and all i know how to do is PAINT SHIT!!!! NOBODY CARES ABOUT ART!!!! IF I FAIL THIS CLASS I MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO HAVE A HOUSE IN THE FUTURE!!!! A HOUSE!!!!!

I dont even want to be a fucking orthodontist. Okay??? I wanna do what I love: painting. But NOOOO. I have to get a "respectable" job that will "pay me enough money to live". WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO MAKE MONEY TO LIVE??? WTF??? THATS LITERALLY SO FUCKED UP. everyone deserves to live (unless they like murdered someone? I guess? Idk) BUT LIKE I DIDNT KILL NO ONE SO WHATS ALL THIS BS ABOUT WORKING TO LIVE???? WTF??? I rly gotta do all this shit I hate, all this shit I'm mentally incapable of doing... so i can have a house. Fuck this. Yknow with my average at a 57... I might fail this class even if I get a really good grade on my next quiz. Can you fucking believe it??? I'm literally so fucking stupid I cant even pass a dumb fucking math class god i hate myself. I cant fail this class. I've NEVER failed a class. Almost failed... but never HAD TO RETAKE A CLASS. that's the ultimate failure. I think my parents would hate me if I failed this.

And on top of that... I'm really struggling with uhhh, dysphoria and body image... and it's so fucking horrible man I want to rip all my skin off I want to suffocate god I want to KILL him I want to MAKE HIM SUFFER. I want to gouge his eyes out and force him to eat them. WHY WOULD HE MAKE ME LIKE THIS????? WHY????? WHATS THE POINT IN MAKING A CHILD SUFFER SO MUCH???

What did I ever do that was so wrong I deserved all this punishment???

Well FUCK YOU and fuck your stupid book and FUCK THESE STUPID FUCKING SAINTS. WASNT THERE SUPPOSED TO BE A WHOLEASS ANGEL WATCHING OVER ME?? PROTECTING ME??? WHERE THE FUCK IS THAT BITCH NOW?? WHERE WAS THAT BITCH WHEN... when I was being bullied? When I literally wanted to kill myself?

Where was that guardian angel when I kept making THE SAME MISTAKE over and over again and I KNEW it was wrong but I kept doing it anyways because it was the only way I could feel like soemone cared about me????

I bet that angel motherufcker KNEW they didnt care. DID THE ANGEL EVER ONCE HELP ME??? NOOOO. all those times I was bruised and broken... all those times...

Man, I was just a kid. I was SO fucking young. And I would come like a lamb to the slaughter and kneel. I would pray... ask for guidance. I would pray the rosary too, I would read the bible and try my very best to understand it, I would go to church and volunteer at church and do my best to be a Good Boy and never sin. I did EVERYTHING right. I literally fasted at some point, like a religious fast. I was devoted...

Honestly though? I think it was the same mistake I make over and over again, except not with a real person.

And you have me NOTHING. GO GIRL, GIVE US NOTHING!!!!!!! I literally used to self-punish for the sins I couldnt bring myself to confess. At my communion, there was one sin I didn't tell because I knew it was unforgivable. I still hate myself for that. But man, I used to try and do all sorts of things to somehow cleanse myself of it. I figured THAT whole ordeal was why I was constantly being tortured.

But I was stupid and I am stupid and that makes NO SENSE because if the thing I'm being punished for happened when I was a child, WHY DID THE PUNISHMENT BEGIN AT MY BIRTH????

They used to tell me that god handcrafted every part of me specifically for some sort of grand reason.

Why.

Really? This bitch really "handcrafted" me just so I could cry and cut myself nearly every night??? Fuck that. Like why would you make me this way. It hurts more than you can IMAGINE. The only reason I'm not dead yet is because of ME, MY strength, not any of the bullshit YOU gave me. I hate when people say "oh, god made u so hardworking" or "oh, god made you so passionate/hopeful/full of love/fiery/whatever" LIKE STFU BITCH THAT WAS NOT SKYDADDY THAT WAS ME!!!

you wanna know what he made me?

dysphoric, ugly af, yeah.... but the worst part?

He made me feel.

That doesn't sound bad, right? Well it's the worst thing on the list. It is my downfall, my Achilles heel or whatever. This emotions shit??? It RUINED my life. My whole life I was cursed with a fucking monster inside me. I kept trying to tell everyone that it wasnt me!!! I kept telling them that it felt like I was being possessed. But adults are SHIT. I hate adults. I want to kill them all. They failed me and their god failed me. None of them every listened to me. All they knew how to do was punish, punish, punish.

It's like giving an allergic kid some peanuts and then getting angry at them for going into anaphylactic shock or whatever. Nobody ever thought "hey, why don't we stop giving the kid peanuts?"

ALL THE ADULTS AROUND ME ACT LIKE CHILDREN AND THEY ALWAYS HAVE ACTED LIKE CHILDREN FUCK ADULTS

Anwyays that's how I ended up with all these unresolved issues,.... emotion is a tough one, like I literally dont have the ability to control my emotions at all, I can try and like, repress them but I cant make myself actually feel less.

My emotion hurts more than anyone else's and nobody ever understood that. I would tell them that it hurts, it PHYSICALLY HURTS, and they would say I just wanted attention. I would tell them I literally couldnt control what my body said and did, I would tell them I felt like A PUPPET ON STRINGS and no one believed me. Fuck them.

Healthy coping mechanisms? I literally self ship with Snape to cope. I literally self ship with characters my brain made up and put in my dreams to cope. I used to hurt myself so much trying to feel loved and cared about irl. Fiction is so much better. I sound like a loser but its TRUE. The sort of thing I need, the sort of love I need is like... a parent. You can't go looking for a parent in a romantic partner, it fucks everything up and you end up... well, let's just say it proabbly wasnt the most legal thing, but I wasnt thinking strisght at all I mean dude I was So fucked in my head when I did all that...whatever...anyways so thank u for fiction!!! I love fiction. Want to kill someone? Draw it. Then you'll feel much better!!! And you dont go to jail!!!

Well the pics here... idk, it was really calming to do this. It's new, painting over religious shit. I was gonna do the whole bible but I already burnt that shit so.... and I was going to cut but I'm trying really hard to stay clean... like really hard. It's so weird and like, addicting, once I hit styro I don't want to stop, but also it kinda transfers the emotional pain to physical pain, making it way easier to deal with. I just can't keep doing that because I KNOW it's bad and look I thoguht I was clean for a whole year but then I fucked up and WOW, GUESS WHAT MADE ME RELAPSE??? MATH CLASS!!!!

Whatever anyways here are my wonderful works of art I made while crying and cursing god (like I'm so pissed at all this catholic bs I believed in him again just to swear at him lol)

.... but imagine for a moment, a better world. One in whcih these saints whose images I've defaced are actually good people... a world in which they SEE ME AND THEY HEAR ME... and I go unpunished.... and I am embraced by someone who UNDERSTANDS.

I think I would cry.

Too bad that world doesnt exist and I just made it up to try and feel a bit better. Whatever, whatever. I painted the things, they're gonna dry. I work hard, I'm gonna do good on my quiz, I hope. I just have to be making it through, that's all it is, work work work without a break but I can proabbly do it. I'm really slipping I admit like the mental health is slipping it's getting worse like I havent had a "fuck I am afab" moment in such a long time so yeah...

Anwyays I feel so much better now that I did my little art project yknow???