#and i will force myself not to start the 3rd one right now

[gigiwritess]

BACK TO EARTH

dr. jack abbott x f!resident!reader!vega aka "wildcard"

wc: 2,100 synopsis: the weeks go by—until the pittfest happens. jack wasn't even supposed to be working, but there he was. he didn't expect to have to save vega from herself, too, as her personal dark spiraled out of her control.

contents: 20-year age gap (vega is 26, jack is 46). vega's worsening mental health issues; she's having an anxiety attack, but it's not heavily described. usual pitt dynamics. probably lots of medical inaccuracies that i'm not gonna apologize for. this is totally self-inserted and vega is totally based in lots of aspects of myself. this list is concerns general warnings and specific chapter warnings—i'm gonna keep updating it as i go

gigi's notes: hi people!!!! i'm sorry for not posting the 3rd piece sooner. besides work, classes, organizing and academic conference, my depression keeps getting the best of me and i dissociate and don't do all the shit i need to do and it's an endless cycle. so it took me a bit longer to be able to flesh it out exactly how i wanted this to go and to find the right voice for the things i wanted to write. i really loved this piece and i hope you like it to. i'll try my best to write the next one sooner <3 about the 'jack abbot x reader x frank langdon love triangle', i can tell she's here and she's called TRAITOR (based on the song TRAITOR by elley duhé). i'm nowhere near finished but i'm already at 3k soooo it might take a bit longer to finish cooking it. i should probably make a list of jack abbot's works in progress because i have many lol i'm also gonna write jack abbot x firefighter!reader bc it's my alter-ego, probably a mini-series shorter than BRIGHTER, and i'm also thinking of somethinng like jack abbot x brat!reader in nessa barrett's vibes. as you can tell, jack abbot is rotting my brain :()

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There was something wrong.

The worst of the Pittfest chaos had passed. The ER wasn’t quiet—it never was—, but now the screaming had dulled down to murmurs, the steady beep of machines, the last critical cases being dealt with. Even though it wasn’t over, there was finally a small semblance of quiet starting to spread.

Jack was hands-deep in a tracheotomy when it happened—a kid. Couldn’t have been older than ten. Vega had been working on him since he arrived; Jack caught a glimpse of her across the room as she stopped her compressions and called time of death. He saw the way she stilled for a second, the way something in her eyes cracked. She didn’t lose it, didn’t panic, didn’t break protocol. Just took a deep breath and moved on. But he saw the look in her eyes. He knew that look.

He knew, the moment she stepped out of Trauma Two, her shoulders sagging, her hands shaking as she pulled the latex gloves off with far more force than necessary, there was something wrong.

The beeping from the monitor finally went back to a steady rhythm; his patient was stable. Jack could finally breathe normally again; no one else was calling out his name to go help another patient. He ripped off his gloves, shoved a blood-soaked gown into a bin, and wiped the sweat from the back of his neck. By the time his patient was finally handed off, Vega was gone.

He probably shouldn’t have been paying that much attention to her all this time working together, but he couldn’t help it—he was, by nature, an observant person; he had thrived in workplaces exactly because of that. But Vega was the biggest mystery Jack had ever faced—the most fascinating one.

Every time they worked together or were near each other—which happened way more frequently than it should’ve, considering they worked opposing shifts—, he noticed something about her, sometimes without even meaning to.

It was almost as if she were a giant magnet and he was made of iron (part of him was, at least). He noticed the way her forehead would furrow whenever she was in deep thinking; he noticed the way she would let a quiet groan escape when stretching her back, always a grimace of pain she was quick to disguise when there were people around. He noticed how picky she was with her fingers, always scratching something, filing her nails, finding something to fix in her cuticles. He noticed how expressive she was; how her face always showed what she was feeling, even when she was trying to pretend otherwise.

He noticed a lot of things about her. Especially how well she held herself together, but her eyes gave her away—he always saw right through them.

It took him longer than it should’ve to find her. She wasn’t in the break room, wasn’t in the stairwell. Not in the far supply closet that staff usually went to scream into empty shelves, not in the ambulance bay.

It was one of the old, near-empty trauma bays, half-lit, curtain drawn. Vega sat on the edge of a gurney, knees close to her chest, elbows on her knees. Her hands were covering her face, her palms pressed against her eyes as if she could absorb back her own tears.

Jack didn’t announce himself. He just stepped inside, quietly closed the door behind him, pulling the curtain shut. For a moment, he just stood there. The room felt too small, the air too heavy.

“Vega?” He called out in a low voice, rough from a long, chaotic day.

No response—she didn’t move. He could hear her small, soft sobs.

He crossed the room in two strides, invading her space, her knees touching his chest. Carefully, gently, Jack took her hands in his and slowly pulled them away from her face, her eyes, wet with tears, sealed shut as he lowered her hands to her sides.

“Look at me,” Jack said, both his hands coming to cup her face, firm and steady, warm palms against the sides of her neck.

She did. Her eyes, usually so full of fire and life, were dark, red-rimmed, almost vacant as they met his. It was as if an angry, destructive storm had passed through them, taking everything in its wake, taking a piece of her with it. A storm that had been hidden deep, brewing for some time—not just the Pittfest.

“Breathe.” Quietly, she did. “In and out.”

Her breathing hitched, the tears subsiding, the tremor in her chest slowly fading away. His thumbs brushed the sharp line of her cheekbones—not soft, not tender. Grounding. Just enough to tether her back to Earth, back to the present, away from her spiraling thoughts, back to him.

“Good girl,” he muttered as her breath came in shaky but obedient, almost even now.

It was meant to come out as a tease, something for her to laugh, to bring her back to reality. But it didn’t sound that way, not as she shivered, not as his thumb grazed the corner of her mouth. Not as her gaze fell to his lips once, twice before flicking back to his eyes. It shouldn’t have made his stomach twist—but it did. They stayed that way for a moment, just breathing, just looking at each other, existing in each other’s space. Simply being with each other, her pulse a steady rhythm against his fingers.

But his eyes betrayed him—his gaze dropped to her lips before he could stop himself. Maybe it was the tiredness. Maybe it was the blood stuck under his nails, or the way his chest still ached from all the patients he’d lost. Or maybe it was the way that here, in this room, right now, with her, none of it mattered.

Jack leaned in—Vega met him halfway. It wasn’t a careful kiss, not sweet. It was like a collision of exhaustion and adrenaline, and months of looking at each other as if they were two souls who knew something about each other, who recognized something in each other. Her hands gripped the collar of his scrubs, his palms sliding to the back of her neck—it was a kiss meant to ground them both. Hard and a little desperate, meant to translate everything that couldn’t be said yet. No promises, no words, no soft confessions. Just here, right now.

When they pulled apart, their foreheads stood almost touching for a moment. Jack’s breath was ragged; his hands still cupped her face.

“Keep looking at me like that, old man,” she said, voice hoarse, “and I might start thinking you like having me around.”

The wicked smirk on her lips, swollen from his kiss, was the first real thing he’d seen on her face all night.

It took a moment for her teasing to hit its mark, for him to realize she was back. “Yeah, yeah,” he laughed. “Don’t let it get to your head.”

Jack was the first to pull back, hands falling away slowly, reluctantly. The air between them still crackled, was still charged as they stared at each other for a moment longer, the memory and the weight of the kiss too fresh, too sharp. For a second, neither of them spoke.

Outside, someone faintly asked about more negative O units—the world hadn’t stopped.

He jerked his chin toward the toward.

“Come on, Wildcard,” he said, the usual sharp-edged version of him settling back into place, “you’ve got a shift to finish.”

There was something about the way he uttered ‘Wildcard’. It was not in the usual teasing, mocking way people did. It felt personal—he spoke it like a secret kept between just the two of them.

She slid off the gurney, her hand brushing his as she walked, her pinkie tangling with his for a single moment before she put distance between them. Her expression was the same as it always was—cool, a little cocky, composed. But her pulse was still visible at her throat.

Jack noticed. Of course he did.

The world was calmer now as they sat down on the park benches, Matteo happily handing beers to whomever would accept. Life still went on around them—music thudding faintly against the night air, sirens going off in the distance—but here it felt quieter. Slower.

Vega looked up; the night sky was clear and bright, stars twinkling faintly. Jack sat beside her on the same worn-out bench. He was sitting close, almost too close. His thigh brushed hers, solid and warm; his arm bumped hers when he shifted slightly to accommodate his prosthetic leg, but he didn’t move away. If anything, he leaned closer, the barest tilt of his body, casual enough that no one would notice.

She noticed—every single second. She could’ve inched away, could’ve created a little space. She didn’t.

They hadn’t spoken since leaving that trauma bay, hadn’t worked together—only traded stolen glances throughout the ER, glances full of everything they didn’t recognize yet.

“You held up good today,” Jack said, nudging her leg with his left knee, beer in hand, “better than most.” He angled his body towards her, looking at her profile.

She nudged his leg back, turning her head to look at him, finding his eyes. “Even with a breakdown?”

“Even then,” he said, sipping his beer and staring intently into her.

Vega tried to play it off, act cool—but her throat still tightened all the same as she held his gaze, as she tried not to think about the anxiety black hole she’d just barely clawed her way out of. She tried not to think about how everything had been spiraling each time worse than the previous, each time getting far out of her control, until his warm, steady hands pulled her out. She didn’t want to think about how grounding his touch felt—or how his kiss felt like a lifeline she didn’t know she needed, how his kiss felt like being above the surface after being underwater for so long, how his kiss felt like feeling a spark of something after being numb for so long.

But that was all she could think about as she looked into his eyes, as the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them under the amber streetlights.

She looked away; her heart sounded stupidly loud in her ears, overwhelming. She took a breath, trying to quiet it down.

“You don’t have to babysit me,” she said, breaking the moment, pretending like it didn’t weigh heavily on her chest. “But thank you.”

“I know,” Jack said after a beat, a half-smirk ghosting across his mouth. “Guess I just have a thing for trouble.”

Vega let out a breath of a laugh, genuine, small, and surprised, meant just for him. Something warm started to spread over her chest, something good. When she turned to him again, her eyes were brighter, crinkling just a little at the corners. She shouldn’t say anything—or at least say something else. But she couldn’t help it when his eyes had a spark of something daring, of something dangerous, something familiar.

“Yeah? That why you keep hanging around?”

The air between them went still. Heavy, charged. Like something coiled and tense, just waiting for someone to make a move—any move.

Feeling just a bit emboldened by the spark in his eyes, she reached out and snagged the beer right out of his hand. Jack’s eyebrows shot up, surprised, but he let her do it, watching as she lifted it to her lips and took a long sip. Brave. Almost defiant.

Vega handed the beer back. Eyes still locked on Jack’s hazel ones, his fingers closed around hers, slow, deliberate, and his head tipped toward her, just a bit, like he was going to say something to Robby instead—he didn’t.

Jack’s mouth brushed near her ear, low enough that only she caught it, meant just for her.

“Careful, kid. Keep that up and I’ll think you’re flirting.”

It was her turn to stay silent, her breath caught like a deer caught in a trap, just for a split second before she masked it into a tiny, sly smile. Her cheeks, her whole face, felt like it was on fire. She didn’t need to look at him to feel the wicked grin tugging at his mouth.

Vega leaned back against the bench, purposefully pressing her shoulder against his. She said nothing as she stole his beer again, brushing his fingers—and he let her—, acting as if her heart was beating normally. It wasn’t. Not since his kiss brought her back to earth.

@cosmoscoffeee @mackycat11 @sunfairyy @starkgaryan @amandarobertsboyce @starlight-starbright-8080 @patatesliomlet @saynotononsense @sweetestcowboy @diaryofafeelsaddict 

[starringthesturniolos]

baby it's cold outside - chris sturniolo

summary: you are forced to share the air mattress with your long time enemy, chris, on a camping trip.

"Since you two wanted to argue the whole way up, you guys get to share a tent together. Yay!!", Matt says while jumping up and down in fake excitement.

On the way to the camp site, Chris and I did argue a lot. But in my defense, the idiot kept pushing my buttons! He kept turning my least favorite songs on and blasting them at full volume so I couldn't sleep. When we stopped at 7/11 he grabbed the last of my favorite drink and gulped it down in front of me. When we finally arrived, he dumped all my heavy bags on the ground and laughed at me struggling to pick them up. It was like he was asking to get yelled at, or like he wanted me to be mad at him.

"No, Matt please!" I grab onto his arm desperately. "I'm sorry but please don't make me stay with him!"

Matt rolls his eyes at me and folds his arms over his chest. "Would you rather sleep outside then?" I scoff and shoot a glare towards Chris who isn't standing too far behind Matt. "Yeah, sounds about right."

"Sleep outside then. That's fine by me, princess." Chris sneers responding to my comment while turning his back on me to set up his tent. I take three deep breathes and close my eyes. I am not going to let this idiot keep getting under my skin. I stomp away from Matt and Chris over to the log Nick was sitting on and he laughs at me.

"Well hello, Mrs. Grumpy"

"Oh shut up" you sigh.

I plop my bag down on the floor, my chest heaving from hauling ass. I had to carry my heavy bags all the way from where Chris dropped them earlier today to the tent. He was laying all comfortable in his set up of blankets and the sight alone pissed me off.

"Thought you were sleeping outside tonight. Is it because you're scared of the animals, princess?" he sneers out the nickname like I'm more of an ogre than a princess. Why is he always so fucking annoying.

"Leave me alone, and I leave you alone. I'm going to bed. I'm tired and I'm not here for the bullshit." I say as I reach into my bag for my sleeping bag. My sleeping bag. Holy shit.

"Shit, shit, shit" you dump out your bag and see no sleeping bag in sight. Its cold out and the thought of sleeping without any covering made a shiver crawl down your spine.

"What is it now??" Chris sits up and turns the flashlight on in an exasperated manner. You sigh deeply. "It's nothing, go to bed Chris." He shrugs and lies down again, turning his back to me. I didn't need to give him another reason to tease me tonight. I flop on the ground on the opposite side of the tent from him and curl up into a ball. I can feel myself shivering but I try to ignore it.

Thinking back on when I first met the triplets in 3rd grade, I remember how cute I thought Chris was. I met Nick and Matt on the bus ride home from school one day when Chris was sick. The next day, me, Matt, and Nick were playing tag at recess when Chris walked out with a doctors note in hand. He walked over to his brothers and my heart skipped a beat. Immediately, Nick and Matt went to introduce me. "Chris! This is-" before Nick could even finish his sentence, Chris was already talking. "Well, isn't she a looker" he chuckles sarcastically while looking down at me, clearly judging me. I also looked down at my two loose braids and hand me down clothes and sigh. "Am I really that ugly" I thought to myself. I knew I probably shouldn't have let a boy that I hardly knew opinion get to me, but the tears came nonetheless." I wanted him to like me" you thought to yourself, wallowing in self pity. I was cut out of my trance when Chris started to laugh sporadically. "What? What is it?" I mutter looking at Chris and then too Matt and Nick who look embarrassed by their brothers rude antics. "Nothing, nothing. Its just... You're even uglier when you cry!" he starts laughing even harder. I felt myself start to shake from embarrassment and anger. Who did he think he was. "Your mean!" I stomped my foot which only made him laugh harder. I couldn't take anymore harassment in one day, and turned on my heel and ran away with Nick and Matt right on my heels.

After all these years he still hasn't changed. "Y/N, HELLO!!" Chris yells bringing me back to the present. "What?".

"Where the fuck is your sleeping bag?" he asks. I sit up from where I was laying to face him. He was now laying down with his body faced in my direction.

"Oh my God, clearly not here or I'd be using it, dumbass." I roll my eyes and go to lay back down.

"Lose the attitude and come stay in the bed with me" he mutters before I can return to my balled up position. My mouth flys open. Since when did he care if I was cold or not. "Wait, what?" I say in shock.

"Get the fuck up and come here. Nick and Matt will punch me in the throat if you catch a cold." he says nonchalantly as if it's normal for people that hate each other to share a bed. I roll my eyes again. I'm not sharing a bed with an asshole, even if it causes me to freeze to death. "No thanks" I scoff, preparing to lay back down again.

He sighs exasperated and moves from his comfortable position in his blankets. He stands up and starts walking towards me. I feel my throat start to tense up. "What are you doing?" fear creeping into my tone. Once he reaches me, he grips underneath my thighs with one hand and tries to support my back with the other. Desperately, I try to wiggle out of his grasp but too no avail. I am in his arms in no time. It takes everything in me to not sink into his warm chest. I didn't realize how cold I was until this exact moment. Suddenly I start to panic again when he starts to walk because I have no idea where he's taking me. Then I think of the worst. "Are you seriously gonna throw me out the tent. Come on Chris, do you really hate me that much??"

He stops moving entirely and he looks down at me. God the way he looks looking down at me is enough to be in any girls dream. Too bad he's just a big dickhead. "You weren't listening to me. So now I'm forcing you to stay with me on the air mattress." he pauses before continuing, almost like he doesn't want to say what he's going to say next. He sighs and continues on, "You were shivering really bad while you were in La La land. I didn't want you too freeze anymore." He had a glimmer of concern in eyes when he said it and that's all it takes for me to believe him. I hate the way my cheeks warm up from the honest confession. It meant he cared, and it shouldn't matter to me but it does.

He starts to walk again, seeing I had no response and plops me down on the mattress. He flops down right beside me, and even though it's warmer with the blankets, it's not enough. Another shiver racks through me. "Y/n??" Chris doesn't even try to hide the concern in his voice. "Do you need me closer? Will that help?" he looks at me waiting for my call. The thought of Chris getting close to me is enough to make my head spin. And as much as I wish being in Chris' arms would repeal me, it doesn't. Instead I feel my heart skip a beat like they did all those years ago. Get it together Y/n.

"Yes" I whisper. Chris doesn't need to be told twice and he pulls me impossibly close to his body. He grabs my thigh and puts it around his waist and then pulls my head into his chest. All I can sense is him. Instead of it annoying me, I lean into his scent and his warmth. In my heart I know that even if it was the hottest night of all time, I'd still enjoy being wrapped in him like this. And I hated myself for it. I melt into his arms and feel myself getting lulled to sleep. Just as I'm about to fall asleep I feel his lips graze my hair. " I could never hate you, angel, not in a million years. I'm sorry". And with those words, I fall asleep in his arms.

Send in request, I could always use some more inspo

Love, Mya

[chocochozi]

Second Chance.

Pairing : Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira!Reader

Warning : Slight angst, Sanemi maybe a little bit out of character, angst with a happy ending.

Part 2 of The Other Woman.

A/N : AHHHH i didn't expect people to like the first part😭😭 for the people who are asking for part 2, here it isss

Taglist : @yomama2089 @elibelly @delusional-mushroom @bright-sunshines

@senecarosemary-blog

Its been two weeks since the argument with Sanemi. It hasn't been clear to me if the relationship has really ended. Though, its more likely that it has. I've been doing a great job avoiding him those past 2 weeks. Over the course of those days i've been spending my time with everyone but him basically.

But then again, it didn't go unnoticed for the others. Not seeing us together hip to hip did made them suspicious. Cause even if we were in a room together, i avoided him even if it means staying quiet.

If i was to choose between talking to him or Tomioka i'd rather choose the second option and distract myself with having the most boring conversation in the world with Tomioka than talk to him. (no hate to him sorry, Giyuu.)

But as one would expect, the avoiding will eventually came to a stop or be forced to stop.

And here i am, in the Ubuyashiki Estate where both me and Sanemi were requested the presence of by Master himself. Being summoned like this can only mean one thing, to be situated to being partners for a mission. Of couse both of us couldn't say no.

The mission was a simple one, kill the demons that has been lurking in the village that we had been sent to. Only that it needed two pillars since the demons are reportedly strong.

We set out under the dim light of the moon. You can feel the tension that had been building for the past few days in the air, plus the uncomfortable silence that each of us didn't even dare break.

Sanemi's steps were heavy and his brow was furrowed as he led the way. I followed behind, my breath coming in short gasps as we made our way towards the village.

As we walked, we encountered a few demons along the way. But, Sanemi was quick and efficient as he struck them down, while i did the same.

Once in the village, the plan was to split up and so we did split up to search for the reported demons. Sanemi's search was quick, and i could hear the sound of his sword striking against a demon's flesh. On the other hand, my hunt was slower, i found myself wandering through the winding empty streets, trying to find the elusive demon.

Wandering around more, i finally found the demon, but it wasn't alone. There were multiple demons in the area, and they were clearly ready for a fight. I drew my sword and prepared to face them off, my heart pounding in my chest.

[ 3rd person view. ]

As the fight began, both Hashiras found themselves separated, each fighting off multiple demons alone.

[ (name)'s POV. ]

I've been fighting these demons for what felt like a few hours now, after i slayed one of them another appears and i struggled against the demon's fiery attacks.

The reports were right, these demons are strong, almost as strong as a Lower Moon, my breath coming in gasps as my strength and stamina started to weaken.

Wiping the blood off of the side of my forehead, My appearance was disheveled, my hair messed up, blood streaming down my face, my uniform has rips on it including one of the claw attack on my legs creating a masive slash on my pants. a hiss escapes my lips as i touch my bleeding forehead. 'Hurry, Sanemi. My stamina's not gonna last longer..' i bit my bottom lip. I didn't wanna die with out making up with him.

As i stumbled, i was caught off guard with a stabbed on the lower back by one of the demons i was fighting. I let out a blood curdling scream. Its a good thing that it wasn't a vital point, now, i hadn't been attacking, only defending. My moves are a bit sluggish now that the tiredness was getting to me.

An hour into the fight, It was no use, my stamina was long gone and i couldn't even gather up the strength to get up. 'Ah..im passing out..i think?' I layed there on the ground, vision starting to spin and blur, everything around sounded so muffled like i was underwater.

Through my blurry and spinning vision, i saw his familiar figure. I took one last breath and finally closed my eyes, it was enough for me to know he was alive, but there we're two demons left. I heard them whispering to each other before I saw Sanemi arrive, it was along the lines of hiding and wanting to ambush him while his defenses were down.

[ 3rd person POV. ]

Sanemi was in the middle of battle when he heard a scream– their scream.

"[Name].." Sanemi breathe out, turning his head to the direction where he heard you scream. He turned his head again to focus on what's infront of him, Sanemi stood against three demons, his sword gleaming in the moonlight. as three demons approached him. The creatures were covered in scales and had razor-sharp claws, their eyes glowing with demonic energy. The Hashira didn't hesitate, charging forward to engage them.

The first demon was the largest, and Sanemi knew that it was the most dangerous. It raised its claws, ready to strike, but Sanemi was faster. His sword flashed in the moonlight as he struck, cutting through the demon's scales severing its arm. The demon let out a roar of pain, but Sanemi didn't let up and went of the demons neck.

Sanemi was known for his speed and precision, but even he struggled against the demons' raw power. He lunged at the first demon, his sword slashing through the air, but the demon blocked the attack easily with its massive arm. The second demon lunged at Sanemi from the side, its claws striking at his chest, but he dodged out of the way, his sword striking at the demon's neck.

The third demon was the most formidable of the group. It stood tall and powerful, towering over Sanemi. The demon let out a chilling roar, clearly preparing to attack. Sanemi stood his ground, his sword raised in a defensive position.

The demon charged at him, its huge claws bared and ready for battle. Sanemi waited for the right moment and dove out of the way, just in time to avoid the attack. The demon crashed into the ground, leaving itself vulnerable.

Sanemi was quick to seize the opportunity. He leaped onto the demon's back, his sword held high. With a single, decisive blow, he severed the demon's head from its body, effectively killing it.

Sanemi stood there, breathing heavily, his sword still clutched in his hand. surrounded by the lifeless bodies of three powerful demons. He was exhausted, both physically and mentally, but he knew that his work was not yet complete. He had heard the blood-curdling scream of his partner, who had been his only ally in this fight, and knew that he had to find them. As the adrenaline started to wear off, he started to feel the strain on his body, the toll of the intense battle suddenly catching up with him.

He quickly searched the area, his heart racing with anxiety and dread. Finally, he found them, lying on their own blood, passed out. Sanemi's heart sank as he looked down at their helpless form. He knew that the demons had done this to them, and he felt a burning anger rising within him.

But he knew that he couldn't dwell on anger now. He had to focus, to channel his emotions into the fight ahead. He had to save them, no matter what the cost. He stood infront of them to protect their unconscious body. ready to face the next challenge.

As he waited, he could hear the distant sounds of two demons growling and snarling. They were coming, and they were hungry. Sanemi was ready. He drew his sword, his eyes set on the enemy. He knew that he couldn't let his emotions get the best of him, that he had to be calm and collected. But he also knew that he had to fight with all his might, to protect the them and to avenge their wounds.

As the demons finally appeared before him, Sanemi let out a primal roar and charged at them with all his strength and speed. He was a blur of motion, and his swrod flashed in the air as he sliced through the demons like butter.

In moments, the two demons lay defeated at his feet, their heads severed from their bodies. But Sanemi's fight was not yet over. He quickly ran to their side, checking their pulse and breathing.

They were alive, but barely. Sanemi knew that he had to get them help as soon as possible.

A few minutes later, Multiple Kakushi arrived at the village taking them from Sanemi's arms. "I tried to stop the bleeding by putting pressure on it," he gently passed you to the Kakushi, "you better take good care of them." His voice was demanding but quiet. The Kakushi nodded.

After receiving news from Aoi that they had woken up from being unconscious for three days, Sanemi quickly made his way to the Butterfly Mansion, his heart racing with anxiety. He couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had been hanging over him since the battle, and he desperately needed to see the them.

Finally, he arrived at the Butterfly Mansion, his breath coming in harsh gasps as he ran up to the doorstep. He burst through the door panting.

Shinobu's eyes widen as she heard the door burst open revealing a panting Sanemi on the door way, he clearly rushed here as soon as he received the news.

"Their awake," Shinobu said, her voice soft and filled with emotion. "I was just filling them in about everything that's happened, and they were asking about you."

Sanemi's heart leapt in his chest, his eyes widening as the weight that had been pressing on him lifted. "Where are they?"

"I'll take you to them," Shinobu led the way to their room gently knocking then opening the door softly. " [name], Sanemi's here." They were spacing out looking at the window to their left, until they heard his name, they turned to look at the opened door, their eyes landing on the face on the man they love.

Sanemi couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief. They were sitting there, looking just as beautiful as ever, albeit a bit pale and tired.

"I'll leave you two alone." Shinobu says, earning a hum from the both of you.

Sanemi walked over to their bed, they were leaning on a pillow while they were sitting.

"I'm glad you're okay, i shouldn't have made the plan to split up, im sorry." he murmured,

"The plan worked out fine, and if it wasn't for you i would've been devoured by those demons so, thank you."

Sanemi took a deep breath, knowing that this was a conversation that he couldn't delay any longer. He had to apologize to them about the argument both of them had a few weeks ago, to let them know that he understood ther concerns and that he was sorry for hurting them.

"I want to apologize again about the argument we had," he began, looking down at his hands. "When we first started dating, and even now, I compared you to Kanae, and I realize now that that was wrong. I didn't realize how much it hurt you, and for that, I'm sorry."

[Name] looked up at him, surprise written all over their face. He had rarely spoken to them like this before, had rarely been this vulnerable and open with them.

"Thank you," they said, taking his hand. "Thank you for understanding. And I'm sorry too, for not being completely honest with you about my worries. It's just that, i wanted for you and your brother to be okay."

Sanemi smiled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He knew that their relationship wasn't perfect, that they still had much to learn about each other. But this moment, this honest conversation, made him certain that they were headed in the right direction. And he was willing to do whatever it took to keep them happy, to be the best partner that he could be.

"I promise you that I'll be more thoughtful in the future," he said, looking into their eyes. "And I'll do my best to see things from your perspective. Because in the end, I don't want to lose you, and I want to make this work. So, I hope you'll give me a second chance."

They smiled, feeling a warm tingle in their chest. They never expected him to open up to them like this, to really listen to their concerns and apologize for his actions. And they knew that this was a turning point for their relationship, something that they could build on moving forward.

"Of course," they said, leaning in to kiss him. "I love you, Sanemi."

The two of them pulled away from the kiss, "I love you more."

"So, i guess we're okay?" He looked at them in the eyes. He was suprise to see them burst to laughter.

When your laughter dies down, there was a comforting silence that lingered in the air. "Yes," You smiled at him and lean into his face again to peck him on the tip of his nose.

[sunshine-lux]

Clueless (vii.)

summary: after the almost kiss at flash's party, y/n has fully given peter the cold shoulder. Harry and MJ join forces to make sure y/n has all the emotional support in the world<3

pairings: Stark!reader x MCU!peter parker

warnings: peter being lowkey annoying (our boy is trying tho), light swearing, like two mentions of death but nothing serious, y/n lowkey being a brat LOL oops and f!reader. i think that's it!

word count: 9.2k

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺

Y/N woke up face down.

In her clothes from last night.

She groaned, blinking at the ceiling like it had personally wronged her. Her head was pounding. Her eyes burned. And her phone was aggressively buzzing on the nightstand.

One new text from MJ:

“U alive?? I’m coming over in 5. We need to talk about last night”

She squinted. Right. Last night.

She closed her eyes again before forcing herself out of bed.

Y/N emerged from her room looking like the aftermath of a deleted Euphoria scene. Hoodie swallowing her whole, sunglasses indoors, and clutching her water bottle like it contained the elixir of life.

MJ was already waiting in the kitchen, perched on a stool with two greasy breakfast sandwiches and looking completely unphased from last night’s events.

Y/N groaned. “You’re already judging me, aren’t you?”

MJ handed her a sandwich. “I was judging you the moment you let Osborn put his hand on your waist twice in front of Peter.”

Y/N slumped onto the stool next to her. “I hate everything.”

“Perfect. Let’s unpack that.”

“I can’t even remember what drink number made me stupid,” she mumbled.

MJ smirked. “I can. It was the fourth. Neon green. Tasted like battery acid.”

“I should’ve stayed home. Or kissed a houseplant instead. Less damage.”

MJ raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, well, Peter was the one who spiraled. The second you went upstairs with Harry, Gwen said she wasn’t feeling well and left. And Peter just… shut down. He looked like a kicked puppy. It was kind of pathetic.”

Y/N froze. “Wait—what?”

“He didn’t even try to play it off,” MJ said, sipping her coffee. “He went full Greek tragedy. I’ve seen heartbreak, but this was embarrassing.”

She pulled out her phone. “You want proof?”

Y/N blinked. “MJ no—”

“Too late. I’m already pulling up the texts.”

Ned: bro’s been playing radiohead since we got home Ned: i think it’s a cry for help Ned: he just played “all i need” 4 times in a row Ned: the 3rd time he started screaming the lyrics into his pillow Ned: i tried to ask if he was okay and he told me to “leave him in the void”

MJ glanced up. “There’s also a video but I respect you too much to show it.”

Y/N just sat there, stunned. “...He screamed into a pillow?”

MJ shrugged. “Peter Parker: poster boy for emotional repression.”

A long pause. Then:

Y/N whispered, “He was going to kiss me.”

MJ blinked. “When?”

“On the balcony. Last night. We were… so close.” Y/N looked down, cheeks flushed. “And then he stopped. Said we couldn’t ‘mess this up.’ So I walked away. And made everything worse.”

MJ stared for a second. “Okay. I love you. You know that. But what the hell is wrong with you two?”

“Mutual emotional dysfunction?”

“Try Olympic level self sabotage.”

A moment of quiet. Y/N picked at the edge of her sandwich.

“He’s so dumb,” she mumbled.

MJ smirked. “He’s not the only one.”

Y/N groaned as she dramatically laid her head on the table. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, did your kiss with Harry change anything?” MJ said, moving the hair out of Y/N’s face.

“...No. That’s the worst part.” Y/N began, “I like Harry. I do. But I really don’t think I could see myself being anything more than just his friend. He’s perfect on paper. He’s everything I should want but… he doesn’t make me feel the way Peter does. And I hate myself for it.”

MJ nodded. “Yeah, I get what you’re saying. God, I can’t believe Parker drives you this crazy.”

Y/N hid her face again. “Now you’re making fun of me.”

“Only a little.” MJ laughed. “Honestly Y/N/N, I can’t tell you what to do or how to feel but the ball is in Peter’s court right now. He’s the one who’s been running from you. He’s the one who pulled away from the kiss. He’s the one who needs to fix this, not you.”

“But then what am I supposed to do?” Y/N said, pouting up at MJ.

“I guess now we wait.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The blinds were drawn. The air was heavy. Peter laid like a starfish across his bed, phone plugged into the speaker, volume up obscenely high.

“I WISH I KNEW! I WISH I KNEW YOU WANTED ME!”

Matthew Healy screamed through the room, and Peter screamed right along with him, face buried in his pillow.

“—I BITE MY TONGUE IT’S A BAD HABIT!!” kick kick pillow punch “STUPID. HARRY. OSBORN.”

He let out a strangled groan, rolling over like the human embodiment of regret.

“‘I can’t mess this up,’” he mocked himself, voice thick with self loathing. “‘We can’t kiss.’ Great job, Parker. Incredible. You rejected the girl of your dreams twice.”

He sat up dramatically just as the next song queued up.

No. 1 Party Anthem. Of course.

He laughed bitterly. “Of course.”

Peter flopped back down, smacked his forehead against the mattress, and wailed, “SHE LEFT WITH HARRY. OF COURSE SHE LEFT WITH HARRY.”

He kicked the blanket off the bed like it was personally responsible.

“Everyone loves Harry. He’s charming. Rich. Tall. Cheekbones from hell. I get it! I get it!”

A pause. Then, quietly:

“…I’m gonna die alone.”

—

From the hallway, May’s muffled voice called out:

“Peter, sweetie? Can you either turn it down or commit fully to your heartbreak arc and switch to Phoebe Bridgers?”

Peter groaned louder.

“Leave me in peace, May! I’m wallowing in self pity!”

He dramatically rolled onto his side and turned on his phone to text Ned:

i want to crawl into a time machine go back to the balcony and slap myself in the face

Ned: is there a way to make radiohead stop playing in my head without dying?

Peter: she was going to kiss me i SAW it

and i said NO like an IDIOT now she’s probably making out with harry again rn

Ned:😐✋🏼

Peter:i hope he trips on his perfect shoes and falls into a manhole and a rat challenges him to a duel

He put his phone down. Buried his head back into the pillow.

"Ughhh. Why do I feel things."

Deleta Ya by Djo queued up next. Peter cranked the volume even louder.

And thus the scream-singing resumed.

“—I WISH I COULD DELETE YA—CAUSE NOTHING CAN COMPETE WITH YAA—”

The speaker was now shaking slightly on the desk. The emotional turbulence inside Peter Parker’s bedroom could probably be detected by a NASA satellite.

May stood outside the door, holding a laundry basket, eyes narrowed in exhaustion.

She knocked once.

No answer.

She knocked again—louder. “Peter. Peter Benjamin Parker. Open this door before I break it down like I'm the FBI.”

The music cut off.

A beat later, the door creaked open. Peter stood there, hoodie on, hair a mess, eyes bloodshot from emotional spiraling.

May blinked at him.

“…Sweetheart. You look like you lost a custody battle for your own heart.”

Peter groaned and trudged back to the bed.

May walked in, placed the laundry basket on his desk, and said with entirely too much cheer, “I need you to separate the colors this time. I’m not losing another one of my good white tops to your angst.”

Peter faceplanted into his mattress. “You’re being mean.”

“I’m being practical,” May said, hands on her hips. “You’ve been screaming lyrics about heartbreak for hours. HOURS, Peter. You had Radiohead on loop last night. I think I heard you yell ‘stupid Harry’ like a million times.”

Peter rolled over, face tortured. “He’s not even doing anything wrong! He’s just—so—Harry!”

May tried very hard not to laugh. “I’m gonna need a little more context than ‘Harry’ if you want sympathy.”

Peter groaned louder, gesturing weakly. “I almost kissed Y/N last night. Almost. It was perfect, May. She was there. I was there. We were finally getting somewhere. And then I freaked out like a moron and said we couldn’t do it. And now she hates me. She kissed Harry. And then she went upstairs with him.”

May sat on the bed next to him, sighing.

“…Well, yes. I’ve been hearing you scream about it for hours. And the songs you’ve been listening to? My goodness.”

Peter peeked at her. “You figured?”

“I’m not deaf, baby. And also—I know you.” She ruffled his hair. “You only put on In Rainbows when you feel like the sky is falling.”

Peter stared at the ceiling. “It is falling.”

May gave him a fond smile. “You love her.”

He didn't reply.

He didn't have to.

“Okay.” She patted his leg. “Go fold the clothes and take a shower. Think about your life. And for god’s sake, put on something upbeat. Maybe some Britney. A little serotonin never hurt anybody.”

Peter stood up like he was going to war, grabbed the basket, and trudged out.

May watched him go, biting her lip.

Then she pulled out her phone and dialed a number she hadn’t used in a while.

TONY STARK.

After a few rings: “You’ve reached the Handsome Genius Hotline—who’s melting down today?”

May didn’t waste time. “Tony. It’s May. What do you know about Peter and Y/N.”

A beat. Then:

“….How long do you have?”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Tony switched the call to speaker as he leaned back into his chair. “Alright, May. Hit me. What did my almost-son do now?”

May sighed deeply into the phone. “He’s been listening to the worst heartbreak songs at max volume since last night, I had to tell him to take a shower just now. He’s been playing ‘All I Need’ by Radiohead like it’s the national anthem.”

Tony winced. “Christ. That bad?”

“He’s heartbroken,” she said simply. “He told me what happened. Sort of. Said he and Y/N had an almost moment. Then he panicked. And then she kissed that Harry kid.”

Tony groaned like he just bit into a lemon. “Oh my god, of course she left that part out. Come on. Osborn?! I thought he said he wouldn’t be my future son in law.”

“Your daughter’s got good instincts. Terrible timing. Can you just tell me what happened from your side? She said some stuff last night and I feel like I only got part of it.”

Tony rubbed his face. “Right. Yeah. Y/N came into the lab around midnight looking like someone ran over her with an emotional truck. Told me about the almost kiss. Said she thought Peter didn’t like her because he didn’t kiss her.”

“Oh honey…” May’s heart broke a little.

“Yeah,” Tony muttered. “And then she spiraled into the classic ‘I’m too much’ routine. Said she was noise and maybe Peter just wants someone quiet. Like Gwen.”

May sat with that for a second, her chest tightening. “She said that?”

“She did,” Tony confirmed, tone heavier now. “And May, she meant it. I haven’t seen her like that in a long time. She really… really likes him.”

“I know,” May said quietly. “I’ve known since the moment I saw them together.”

Tony let out a soft laugh. “Same. I was just hoping I was wrong. You think they’re doomed?”

“No,” May said, voice firm now. “They’re just scared.”

“Terrified,” Tony agreed. “They’re both standing on a cliff and neither of them wants to be the first to jump.”

There was a brief pause, then Tony said softly, “What do we do, May?”

May leaned back against the counter. “We wait. We be here. For both of them.”

“And if Osborn lays another finger on her?”

“Oh then he’s done for,” May said sweetly.

Tony smiled. “See? This is why I like you.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

MJ sighed, tying her apron around her waist as she and Y/N turn the corner.

“Thanks for walking me, by the way. I know you’re still recovering from your... tragic girly spiral.”

Y/N, in sunglasses and a hoodie two sizes too big, mutters, “Let’s never speak of it again.”

MJ snorted. “Sure. Just know that your tragic girly spiral left an entire boy in shambles. A boy who may or may not be coming to this coffee shop with Ned—oh my god.”

They both freeze just as MJ spots Ned across the street, wide eyed and silently mouthing:

“GO AWAY. TURN AROUND. RETREAT.”

MJ mouthed back, “YOU go away!”

Ned frantically points next to him, where Peter stood, looking down at his phone.

In pajama pants, a Midtown hoodie, and crocs. His hair is a mess. His eyes are barely open. And he looks like he hasn’t slept in twenty four hours.

MJ turned to Y/N—too late.

Y/N has already spotted him.

And her face crumbles for half a second before she throws her arms around MJ and whispers, “I love you. Bye,” and takes off running. Full sprint. Hoodie flapping behind her. She doesn’t even look back.

Peter glances up just in time to see someone bolt down the street.

“Wait, was that—?”

Ned sighs. “Yup.”

Peter groaned as he face palmed.

They walk inside, the café warm and quiet.

"All I Need" by Radiohead is playing softly over the speakers.

Peter freezed. “No. No. Absolutely not.”

He points at the ceiling. “This is a sign. The universe hates me. I’m being personally attacked.”

Ned pats his back as Peter dramatically sinks into a booth, face in hands.

“Why did I say no, Ned? Why didn’t I just kiss her? I’m so fucking stupid.”

MJ approached slowly, arms crossed. “You are,” she said casually. “Also, welcome. I hope you enjoy your ‘all-consuming regret’ latte. Special of the day.”

Peter groaned louder. “Can someone just launch me into the sun?”

MJ rolled her eyes as she walked back to make a drink. “Only if you tip.”

Peter lifts his head just enough to rest his chin on the table. “This is the worst day of my life. I could’ve kissed her, Ned. I almost kissed her. Why didn’t I? I knew she wanted me to!”

Ned stared at him, dead eyed. “You’ve said the word kiss four times in the last minute.”

Peter opened his mouth again.

“No,” Ned cuts in, already standing. “Get up. We’re leaving.”

Peter blinked. “But what if she comes back—”

“Up. we need to leave before MJ throws you out herself.”

From behind the counter, MJ doesn’t even look up. “Correct. Say kiss again and I’m dragging you out by your hoodie.”

Peter slumps farther into the booth. “I’m never going to recover from this.”

“You’re not,” Ned agrees, grabbing his arm. “But you’re gonna do it somewhere else.”

Ned yanked Peter by his sleeve and drags him toward the door.

Peter sighs dramatically. “Tell her I’m an idiot and don’t know what I’m doing.”

“I already did that.”

The bell over the door jingles as they leave.

MJ barely gets a minute to decompress before the bell jingles again.

MJ looks up—already bracing herself for more drama from Y/N or Peter.

Except it’s not them.

It’s Harry Osborn.

In a black denim jacket, sunglasses, and a smile that could light up Times Square. He pulls off the sunglasses as he approaches the counter.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” MJ groaned.

Harry smirks. “Rough crowd?”

MJ rolled her eyes. “You have no idea.”

Harry glances toward the door, then back at her. “I’m guessing Parker’s emotional breakdown was the matinee performance. Y/N must’ve been the opener.”

“She bolted out of here when she saw him,” MJ mutters. “Smart girl. She’s probably back at the tower by now if that’s what you’re wondering.”

He chuckles, then leans casually on the counter. “Actually, I was looking for you.”

MJ narrows her eyes. “Should I be concerned?”

“Probably,” he said, unbothered. “I just figured... you’ve been the unofficial referee of this love triangle. Thought I’d get your expert opinion.”

She snorted. “On what? How much of a disaster you’re adding to?”

He grinned. “Exactly. I just want to know if I’m completely wasting my time with Y/N, or if there’s a sliver of hope.”

MJ studies him for a second. 

“You want the honest answer or the one that will boost your ego?”

Harry lets out a soft laugh, “Hit me with the honest one.”

“As much fun as it’d be to see Y/N completely do a 180 and end up with you... we all know she won’t. She’s head over heels for Parker, for some godforsaken reason. As smart as she is, she doesn’t know a good thing when it’s in front of her.”

Harry puts a hand over his heart. “Ouch. But also, you just said I’m the good thing in front of her? You flatter me, MJ. I thought you weren’t gonna boost my ego.”

MJ glared at him. “Nevermind. I take it back. Apparently, she has two idiotic, self centered assholes to pick from.”

He opens his mouth to fire back—but he freezed.

“Wait– what? I–I  mean I’m not that self centered… I think.”

MJ’s already turned around to make another drink, completely unfazed. For the first time… Harry Osborn doesn’t have a cheeky comeback.

Is he blushing?

Yeah. A little.

There’s a beat of silence. Then Harry looks at her with a new kind of curiosity — the kind he usually saves for rare art or experimental tech.

And then he said, quietly, “No one’s ever spoken to me like that before.”

MJ, still not looking at him: “Maybe you needed it.”

Harry, blinking, to himself: “I think I did.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The living room is quiet, lit golden by the setting sun filtering in through the tall windows. The post party hangover has slowly left the Stark girl’s system. Y/N is curled up on the couch in a hoodie and shorts, freshly out the shower, half heartedly flipping through TV channels. A bowl of popcorn sits untouched between her and Harry, who’s lounging sideways on the other end, his head resting against the armrest, one leg slung over the back of the couch.

Harry tossed popcorn in the air and caught it in his mouth. “So... that party was a blast.”

Y/N groaned. “Don’t remind me.”

“Come on. You got to kiss a ridiculously handsome guy—twice, might I add.”

She gives him a withering look. “Don’t flatter yourself, Osborn. I was trying to traumatize someone.”

“And you succeeded. Honestly, iconic behavior.” He stretches, then adds more softly, “But for what it’s worth... I had a good time.”

Something in the air changes—not in a way either of them can fully name yet. It’s subtle.

Y/N hugs a pillow. “Thanks for being there.”

Harry smiles, soft and real. “Anytime.”

A beat.

Then, trying to sound casual, “So... MJ.”

Y/N blinked. “What about her?”

He shrugs, eyes still on the ceiling. “She’s cool. I don’t know. I’ve never met someone like her.”

Y/N grinned. “Right? She’s awesome. Like, if anyone deserves the world, it’s MJ.”

Harry turned his head to look at her. “She always like that? So... sharp?”

“Yeah. But she’s also the most loyal person I know. Like, you could set something on fire in front of her and she’d still ask you why you did it before judging you.”

Harry laughed. “Dangerous combo.”

“She’s also gorgeous. Like, she could be a runway model if she wanted to. But she’s so much more than that. She’s smart, hilarious, weirdly good at arcade basketball. And—” Y/N pauses, then smirks. “—I don’t even think she’s ever had a boyfriend. Not that I know of.”

Harry raised a brow. “You say that like it’s a crime.”

Y/N shrugs. “It kinda is. Anyone would be lucky. Hell, I’ve thought about it.”

Harry choked slightly. “Wait, what?”

Y/N just laughed, leaning back into the couch. “Kidding. Mostly. I think I tried to flirt with her once when I first transferred to Midtown but she called me a sauceless nepo baby.”

Harry grinned. “She would.”

A silence settles. Comfortable. But different now.

Harry watched Y/N for a moment longer before looking away, back to the ceiling, his smile lingering—but this time, it’s not for Y/N.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The next morning, Y/N woke up to her phone violently vibrating from her nightstand. She grabbed it, barely awake to see she had 17 new messages.

Group Chat: “Trauma Bonded 💔🤝💥” Created by: Harry Osborn 

Harry😐: good morning besties 😌 Harry😐: is it too soon to call us besties Harry😐: don’t answer that MJ🐛: what is this and why did you name it that Harry😐: cause that’s we are after what happened friday night. Harry😐: i thought this could be our safe space to debrief. Make it easier on our girl Y/N MJ🐛: delete this. Harry😐: no <3 Harry😐: Coney Island. Noon. I’ll drive. Y/N picks the playlist. MJ can veto any Taylor Swift that’s too emotionally triggering. MJ🐛: all taylor swift is emotionally triggering Y/N: it’s 9am why are you both like this Harry😐: bc friendship never sleeps babyyyy Harry😐: also. Y/N. you promised me a corn dog Y/N: did i? Harry😐: in my dreams. but dreams are valid MJ🐛: i don’t eat anything that comes on a stick Harry😐: you’re so hard to please. i like that about you Y/N: oh? MJ🐛: no. Y/N: 🙄

She stared at the screen, then at her ceiling. A soft smile tugged at her lips.

She texts back: Fine. I’ll be ready at 11:45.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Harry’s black Mercedes was already parked outside by the time MJ and Y/N stepped out of the Tower.

He rolled down the window with a dramatic flourish. “Your chariot awaits, ladies.”

Y/N snorted. “Try not to get us arrested.”

“No promises.”

MJ gave Y/N a deadpan look as they approached the passenger side. “I’m still not over the fact that this group outing was his idea.”

“You say that like you didn’t agree to come,” Y/N said, grinning as she opened the passenger door.

“I didn’t want to leave you alone with him,” MJ muttered, climbing into the back seat. “You’re welcome.”

“Good morning to my two favorite girls,” Harry said brightly, handing his phone to Y/N with Spotify already open.

“This is so dumb,” MJ deadpanned. “We’ve interacted, what—three times? And now you think we’re best friends?”

Harry grinned, catching her eye through the rearview mirror. “You’re here, aren’t you? Feels like fate to me.”

“More like emotional blackmail.”

Y/N laughed under her breath, quietly observing them. She leaned back in her seat, smiling down at the phone in her hands. It was the strangest mix of people, but somehow… it worked.

Harry clutched his chest in mock offense. “You wound me, MJ. In my defense, Y/N and I are best friends. But you and I? We’re twin flames—you just don’t know it yet.”

MJ rolled her eyes. “You’re the reason I don’t believe in any of that astrology crap.”

“Whatever,” Harry shrugged as he switched lanes. “But listen—MJ. Can I call you MJ?”

“You’ve literally already been doing it.”

“You’re the only person besides Y/N I actually feel comfortable around. So, sorry if I’m not dying to hang out with the other St. Jude’s graduates I grew up with. They all talk like their parents are about to sue each other.”

MJ muttered, “That’s not the worst reason I’ve ever heard.”

“Okay, so we’re friends now. Glad we settled that,” Harry said, flashing a grin.

Y/N snorted, glancing up from the phone and turning in her seat to face them both. “This is so weird. Like… if you told me last year that this would be my Sunday hangout crew, I’d have said you were having a psychotic break.”

“Honestly? Same,” MJ said, nodding slowly.

Harry smirked, glancing between the two of them. “You guys are gonna look back on this one day and realize this was the start of something beautiful. Just wait. One of you is definitely giving a wedding toast about this moment.”

MJ grimaced. “What the fuck. Y/N, he’s threatening us.”

Both Y/N and Harry broke into laughter as MJ slumped deeper into her seat—trying, and failing, to fight off the smile forming on her face.

40 minutes later, the car comes to a stop a good three blocks away from the actual pier. MJ leans forward from the back seat, squinting out the window.

“Wait… you’re parking here?”

Harry throws it into park with a smug smile. “Absolutely.”

Y/N blinks. “The pier’s all the way over there.”

“Exactly three blocks. A scenic, breezy stroll along the shore. You’re welcome.”

MJ stares at him like he’s lost it. “You refused to pay twenty bucks for the lot?”

Harry snorts, unbothered. “I’m not funding corporate theft. This is a pier, not the Louvre.”

Y/N cackles as she climbs out of the car. “Harry, you bought a leather jacket from Saint Laurent last week because it ‘felt like a vibe.’”

“Exactly,” he says, slamming his door shut. “That was worth it.”

MJ mutters as they walk, “You’re so ridiculous. But… I lowkey respect your mentality.”

“Thank you.”

By the time they hit the boardwalk, it’s all sun and wind and the smell of fried everything. Screams echo from the cyclone coaster above them.

Harry turns toward the pier, eyes lighting up at the sight of the rides. “Okay. I want that one, that one, and that one.”

Y/N squints. “The three biggest ones?”

“The three best ones,” he says, already dragging them toward the ticket booth. “I need to feel something.”

MJ raises an eyebrow. “You have issues.”

“And you’ll be grateful for them when you realize I’m the only one brave enough to sit next to you on the Drop of Doom.”

“I am scared of that one,” MJ mumbles. “But now I have to go, just to prove a point.”

“Spoken like a true masochist,” Harry grins, handing out wristbands. “Let’s ride.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The trio are mid-ride. Harry’s arms are thrown in the air, laughing like an absolute maniac. MJ is clutching the safety bar like it’s a lifeline.

“WHY DID I AGREE TO THIS?!” MJ screams.

“This is AMAZING!” Harry yells back.

Y/N, completely unbothered, is grinning from ear to ear. “This is nothing. I’ve literally been thrown out of a Quinjet!”

“You’re so weird!” MJ shrieks.

“I know!” Y/N beams.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The crowd around the slingshot ride parts as a delighted Harry Osborn practically skips toward it.

“C’mon, Stark,” he grins, pointing to the massive contraption. “It’s calling our names.”

Y/N’s eyes light up. “I love this one.”

MJ, trailing behind them, stops dead in her tracks. “Absolutely not.”

Harry turns around, hands already out to gesture wildly. “You’re not even the one going on!”

“Exactly! I almost died watching a TikTok where a girl’s wig flew off on this ride. I don’t have the heart for this.”

Y/N’s already getting strapped in, practically bouncing in her seat. “Live a little, MJ!”

“I am living. By not putting my trust in a glorified metal bungee cord.”

Harry laughs, sitting down beside Y/N and tugging the restraints over his chest. “Don’t worry, MJ. If we die, I’ll haunt you.”

“Not helping!” MJ calls out, but she’s already filming on her phone, backing away at a safe (survival) distance.

A loud mechanical whir kicks in. The ride operator gives them a thumbs up.

“Three… two… one…”

The slingshot launches them into the sky.

Y/N throws her arms up, hair flying, howling with laughter.

Harry’s scream turns into a maniacal cackle. “I FEEL ALIVEEEE!”

From the ground, MJ has one hand on her heart, the other gripping her phone.

“Oh my god. They’re insane. I need new friends. I’m too hot and smart to witness this.”

She watches as the pod flings them back down and shoots them back up again.

“I swear to god if they throw up I’m blocking both their numbers.”

Back up in the air, Harry turns his head toward Y/N, wind rushing past.

“Okay—this—was—incredible!”

Y/N grins, breathless. “Let’s do it again!”

MJ, watching from below, shudders. “I take it back. Y/N Stark is not normal. She’s a superhero and a menace.”

She records the pod descending again and shakes her head.

“I’m definitely writing this into my wedding toast.”

They come off the rides a little windblown, a little breathless. Harry stops in front of a food stand.

“$15 for funnel cake? That’s a hate crime.”

“It’s literally just fried dough,” MJ says, eyeing it longingly.

“In Greece, I paid seven euros for a gourmet lamb skewer on the beach and they threw in baklava. This is robbery.”

Y/N shrugs. “I’ll buy one. I’m starving.”

Harry gasps. “Don’t you dare. That’s how they win.”

MJ sighs, pulling out her phone. “I’m posting this on Instagram. ‘Rich boy refuses to spend $15 at Coney Island because he’s morally opposed to carnival capitalism.’”

Harry bows. “Please make that my legacy.”

Y/N just laughs again, content as she bites into a churro that was absolutely not purchased from the overpriced stand but smuggled from a cart three blocks away.

The sun’s dipped lower, casting golden light across the boardwalk as the trio heads back to the car, plastic souvenir cups in hand. MJ’s sipping her iced lemonade. Harry’s mid rant about overpriced funnel cake.

“I’m just saying,” he grumbles, “fifteen dollars for fried dough? I’ve had better in Portugal for two euros. I could’ve made it at home.”

“You can’t make funnel cake,” MJ says, side eyeing him.

“Yeah, but I could hire someone who can.”

Y/N snorts, adjusting the strap of her tote bag as they approach the corner. “Actually, can you drop me off first?”

MJ arches a brow. “Why?”

Y/N shrugs, all too casual. “I just have something to take care of.”

That immediately earns twin suspicious looks from both of them.

MJ stops walking. “Y/N. If you text Parker to come over I swear to god—”

Harry, deadpan, “Yeah, and like, as much as I’d love to see this whole saga reach its dramatic conclusion, the guy needs to come to you. Make him sweat a little.”

Y/N throws her hands up, walking backwards toward the car. “Guys. Chill. Oh my God. I’m not texting him.”

“You have that look on your face,” MJ mutters.

“I do not have a look.”

Harry sips from his drink, unimpressed. “You one hundred percent do.”

Y/N huffs. “I just have to finish an essay. It’s fine.”

She’s already pulling her phone out, pressing the lock screen like she’s reminding herself not to open their messages.

Harry glances sideways at MJ, catching her eye.

MJ lifts her cup toward Y/N like a toast. “If I find out you lied, I’m changing your name in my phone to ‘Mrs. Parker’ and you can’t stop me.”

Y/N groans as she climbs into the car. “You people are insufferable.”

But the smile on her face lingers, watching the two of them bicker softly on the sidewalk.

She didn’t lie. Not really.

She did have something to take care of — Just not her essay.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The sliding doors hiss open as Peter walks into the lab, nervously holding his busted web shooter in one hand. He spots Tony hunched over a sleek, half finished suit prototype, music humming low from the speakers.

Peter clears his throat. “Hey, Mr. Stark.”

Tony doesn’t look up. “If you’re here to use the lab, take the bench on the left. Don’t touch anything that glows or costs more than your apartment.”

Peter tries to laugh. “Got it. No touching shiny or expensive.”

He crosses to the bench, unpacking the web shooter. A beat of silence.

Then, too casually, “Hey, um... is Y/N around?”

Tony straightens. Very slowly. Still not turning to face him.

“Oh,” he says flatly. “You’re back for thirds, huh? Was the little stunt you pulled Friday night not enough?”

Peter freezes. “Wait—Mr. Stark, are you… are you mad at me?”

Tony turns now. Arms crossed. Brows raised.

“Gee, Parker. Should I be mad? I mean, it’s not like you broke my daughter’s heart twice. That’s amateur stuff.”

Peter’s eyes go wide. “How do you even—how do you know about that?”

Tony gestures broadly. “We talk. Crazy concept. You know—trust, vulnerability, open communication. She tells me everything.”

Peter’s mouth opens. Nothing comes out.

“And FYI?” Tony adds. “She’s out. Harry and MJ took her out for the day.”

A sharper look now.

“Not that you should care.”

Peter frowns. “I do care.”

Tony nods once. “Sure. Just not enough to kiss her back, apparently.”

Peter deflates. “It’s not like that…”

Tony starts walking toward him, slow, deliberate.

“Then what is it, Parker? Seriously. What’s wrong with you?”

Peter looks up, guilt swimming in his eyes.

“I’m scared.”

Tony doesn’t say anything. Just waits.

Peter finally exhales. “I mean, look at me. I’m not Harry. He’s tall and rich and charming and he’s got that… Osborn thing going on. He looks like he belongs in her world.”

He swallows hard.

“I’m not that guy. I’m just… me. I mess things up. I keep losing people—my parents, Ben, even May sometimes feels like she’s slipping away. And I—I don’t want to love her and lose her too.”

His voice is cracking now.

“I’d die for her, Mr. Stark.”

Tony holds up a hand. “Okay. Let’s not go full Romeo and Juliet. We don not need any more dumn teenage angst around here.”

Peter huffs a laugh, despite himself.

Tony softens.

“I get it. You think I don’t? I spent most of my life afraid of getting close to anyone because I thought I’d just let them down or lose them. But you can’t live like that, kid.”

A beat.

“If anyone in the world has what it takes to love her and protect her—it’s you. You’ve always been that guy.”

Peter’s voice drops. “Even after everything?”

Tony shrugs. “You’re a dumbass sometimes, sure. But you love her. I see it. Hell, she sees it. And maybe I’m not thrilled about her dating a superhero—but she is one too.”

He rests a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“You’ve already earned my trust, Peter. But if you want her back—you’re gonna have to earn hers.”

Peter nods, jaw clenched, renewed fire in his eyes.

Tony steps back. “Alright. Now fix your web shooter and go make a fool of yourself. That’s what grand romantic gestures are for.”

Peter grins.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s already back to tinkering. “Whatever. Just don’t screw it up this time.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Harry’s car pulls up in front of the Tower. The sun’s starting to dip behind the skyline.

Y/N gets out of the car and reaches for the door handle in the back seat, but MJ shoots her a look.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N says, shoving MJ’s shoulder. “Get in the front. He’s not your uber driver.”

“Sheesh, okay.” MJ rolls her eyes, grabbing her bag. 

“For the record? I’d be honored,” Harry adds, turning to flash her a smug grin.

MJ scoffs. “That’s so gross. I hope you know that. That was the grossest thing you’ve said all day.”

“And yet you’re still smiling,” Harry quips.

“I’m smiling at how pathetic you are.”

Y/N’s cackling by the time she’s gathered all her stuff. She watches the two of them bicker for a few more seconds, and her grin softens into something quieter. Sweeter.

She murmurs, “You guys are perfect,” to no one in particular as she watches them drive away.

Y/N steps into the elevator, pulling her hoodie up out of habit. She leans against the wall, earbuds in, music low, a little daydreamy.

She’s thinking about their wedding. About MJ making Harry cry with her vows. About the open bar and the custom Funko Pop favors and the speech she’ll give about being the one who knew first.

“God I can’t wait to be the maid of honor,” she mutters to herself, smiling as the elevator dings.

The doors slide open. Y/N steps out—

—and freezes.

Peter is casually walking toward the kitchen, head down, mumbling to himself and clearly mid thought.

She blinks once.

Closes her eyes.

Reopens them.

Still there.

“Oh hell no,” she whispers, backing toward the elevator button like it’s a trapdoor out of hell. “You better be lying.”

Peter finally looks up. His face lights up—and then immediately contorts into panic.

“Y/N/N!”

She tries to speed past him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Wait—wait, please—can I talk to you?”

“No.”

“Just for a second—”

“Nope.”

Peter rushes after her, heart in his throat. “Y/N, I’m serious. I need to apologize.”

She keeps walking. “I don’t really want to hear it.”

“I mean really. Look, I messed up, okay? Friday night, I freaked out and I didn’t know how to—”

She turns sharply.

“You didn’t know how to kiss me?”

Peter stammers. “I didn’t know what to do. I got scared and I froze and then—”

Y/N’s laugh is bitter. “Wow. You’ve got a real talent for freezing.”

“Y/N—”

“No. You don’t get to ‘Y/N’ me right now.”

“I’m trying to have a real conversation—”

“And I thought we couldn’t mess this up, Peter.”

That shuts him up. Just for a second.

She shakes her head, stepping back.

“I can’t do this. Not right now.”

Y/N storms off down the hallway, Peter standing frozen behind her, fists clenched and jaw tight.

Then—

“Perfect!” Tony’s voice cuts through the tension as he walks in, holding Y/N’s hand as he drags her back in the room, looking way too chipper for someone who’s about to ruin two teenagers’ lives. “I need to talk to both of you.”

Y/N groaned. “Dad, no. Not right now. I don’t want to be here with him.”

“Yeah, too bad, honey.”

She glared at him.

Peter’s eyebrows shoot up. “Uh oh.”

Tony gestures between them like a referee calling a timeout. “You two have been skipping out on training for like two weeks. That ends now. Starting Monday, you're officially back at the compound.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “What? Why do we have to go there now?!”

“Training at the Tower technically falls under Avengers operative protocol,” Tony says, sipping his coffee. “And apparently, letting my emotionally unhinged daughter and her emotionally repressed crush bicker near billion-dollar tech isn’t up to code.”

Peter spoke up, trying to be positive. “Well—I mean, the compound’s nice! And hey… I get to be close to Y/N.”

Y/N turned slowly to glare at him. The look she gives could probably melt vibranium.

Tony claps Peter on the shoulder. “Points for enthusiasm, kid.”

Y/N throws her hands up. “Dad, nooo!”

Tony just shrugs. “Think of it as couple’s therapy. But with punching.”

Y/N groans again, stomping off toward her room without another word.

Peter lingers awkwardly, watching her go.

He glances at Tony. “You… mentioned something earlier. About a grand gesture?”

Tony raises a brow. “I was mostly kidding.”

Peter rubs the back of his head sheepish, “Yeah, but like… what would that even look like? She won’t talk to me. I—I’ve tried. I don’t know what to do.”

Tony sighs. “Look, I’ve known that girl since she was a drooling toddler who tried to disassemble her formula warmer. She’s not impressed by flashy. She gets embarrassed when I honk at the school drop-off.”

Peter groans. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Well,” Tony says, slowly sipping his coffee like he’s winding up for something evil, “she’s mentioned—several times—that she doesn’t want a guy who won’t publicly humiliate himself for her at least once.”

Peter stares. “You’re joking.”

Tony grins. “Am I?”

Peter’s voice pitches up. “Like what? What even counts as public humiliation?”

Tony’s smirk deepens. “I dunno. Something big. Something dumb. Something that makes everyone in the room question your sanity and your vocal range.”

Peter’s face drains. “Oh god. You’re referencing that scene, aren’t you? Her comfort movie?”

Tony shrugs. “I didn’t say that.”

“But you meant it.”

“Did I?”

“I can’t sing!” Peter’s voice cracks in horror. “I will never recover from that.”

Tony claps him on the back again. “Good. That means you’re on the right track.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Peter walked into the classroom with dark circles under his eyes and his backpack half zipped. He scanned the room, hopeful despite everything.

No Y/N.

Again.

He dropped into his seat with a frustrated sigh, tugging his hoodie over his head like he could disappear inside it.

Flash leaned back in his chair and smirked. “You can stop looking, Parker. Stark switched periods.”

Peter’s head snapped up. “What?”

“She’s in fourth now. Guess she got tired of watching you sulk like a kicked puppy every class.”

Peter blinked. His heart sank straight to his shoes. He hadn’t even known that was an option.

Flash shrugged. “Tough break, man. But hey, maybe she finally realized you’re just a loser with some luck.”

Peter didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He was too busy trying to keep his breathing steady.

Before he could spiral further, their teacher walked in, arms full of packets.

“Good morning, everyone. Quick announcement before we start—this Friday, the juniors and seniors are going on class trips. Sophomores and freshmen are testing, and the admin wants us out of the building.”

A few people in class perked up at that.

“Seniors will be at the Metropolitan Museum. Juniors…” She flipped through a folder. “You’re headed to the New York Aquarium.”

Murmurs filled the room. Peter just sat there frozen, jaw clenched, brain already spiraling into overdrive.

Aquarium. Friday.

And Y/N would be there.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/N sat on the floor between the fiction shelves, a bag of chips tucked beside her open laptop, a bottle of lemonade balancing precariously near the edge. MJ lounged next to her, picking at a protein bar and pretending to study.

“I still don’t know how you convinced me to eat lunch here instead of the courtyard,” MJ muttered.

“I needed quiet,” Y/N said, flipping a page. “And the courtyard is currently occupied by every couple in the tri-state area.”

MJ made a gagging sound. “Fair.”

They were mid-bite when the library doors creaked open. Footsteps. Voices.

Y/N didn’t look up—until MJ suddenly went very still.

Ned’s voice came first. “Told you there were empty tables back here.”

Then Peter’s.

“I don’t think we should—”

And then—

“I’ve been looking for you,” Gwen said brightly, and suddenly she was there. Smiling. Breezing past Ned and slipping up beside Peter like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Before Peter could even register the shift, Gwen stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the lips.

Peter startled. His hand went instinctively to her waist.

And Y/N froze.

Her eyes locked on Peter. On Gwen. On the space between them.

For a second, everything dropped out.

Then she moved.

Fast.

She snapped her laptop shut and gathered her stuff, yanked her backpack onto her shoulder, and stood so quickly she knocked over the lemonade bottle.

“Y/N—” MJ started, but she was already walking.

Storming.

Shoving past Peter hard enough that he turned on reflex.

“Y/N, wait—!”

She didn’t.

She was gone.

Peter stared after her, stunned, his hand still hovering awkwardly mid air like he didn’t know what to do with it.

He turned to MJ. “What just happened?”

MJ gave him a deadpan stare.

Then she stood.

Shook her head once.

And followed Y/N out.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Y/N gripped the edge of the sink, knuckles white.

She refused to look up at the mirror. Her breath came in short, uneven bursts, and she was blinking way too fast.

MJ leaned against the tiled wall, arms crossed, watching her with a mix of concern and quiet fury.

"You good?" MJ asked.

Y/N nodded—too quickly. “Fine.”

“You look like you’re about to burst a pipe.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Cool. So I’ll just go back to the library and let you emotionally combust in peace.”

Y/N squeezed her eyes shut. “He kissed her. He grabbed her waist, MJ.”

MJ sighed. “Yeah. I saw.”

“It wasn’t—” Y/N shook her head. “It wasn’t like a friendly thing. It was instinct. Like muscle memory.”

MJ stayed quiet.

“I don’t know why it hurt so much,” Y/N whispered. “I knew he was with her. I knew it. But I still hoped—god, I’m such an idiot.”

“You’re not an idiot,” MJ said firmly. “You’re a girl in love.”

Y/N flinched. Her jaw clenched like she wanted to deny it—but couldn’t.

“I would’ve said yes,” she whispered. “At the party. I would’ve kissed him. I was so ready. And he didn’t. He looked at me like he was going to, and then he didn’t.”

“I know.”

“I just don’t get it,” she said, finally looking at MJ. “Why not me? What did I do wrong?”

MJ walked over, took her by the shoulders, and looked her dead in the eye.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You are smart, and loyal, and completely unhinged in a terrifyingly cool way, and if he can’t see that, that’s his loss.”

Y/N looked away again. “I feel stupid for caring this much.”

“Well, you are. But only a little.”

That got a watery laugh out of her.

MJ smiled softly. “You don’t deserve to be anyone’s second choice, Y/N. Not his, not anyone’s.”

Y/N swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay.”

MJ squeezed her shoulders. “Now fix your face before I fix it for you. You’re too hot to cry in a school bathroom.”

The girls walked out of the bathroom hand in hand, MJ still trying to make Y/N laugh.

“Do you wanna just ditch the rest of the day?” she asked. “We could go to Central Park and finish our lunch there. Maybe call Harry, if you want?”

Y/N sniffled out a laugh. “I thought you didn’t want to hang out with him?”

MJ rolled her eyes. “Well yeah, that was before he bought me ice cream before dropping me off last night.”

“He did what?! Why didn’t you tell me?!” Y/N gasped, smacking MJ’s arm.

“It’s whatever,” MJ muttered, brushing it off.

They came to a stop near the side doors of the school.

“Actually, I just realized I left something in the library. Wait here—I’ll be right back,” MJ said quickly, already jogging down the hallway before Y/N could respond.

Peter paced near the lockers, running a hand through his already messy hair. His face snapped up when he saw MJ approaching, expression tense.

“MJ—hey, is she okay?” he asked quickly, voice low but desperate. “Did she say anything?”

MJ didn’t slow down as she walked up to him. “You’re such an idiot, Parker.”

Peter blinked. “What—what did I do?”

“You say you want to fix things,” MJ said, pointing a finger at his chest, “but all you’ve been doing is making it worse.”

“I tried to talk to her yesterday,” Peter insisted. “She wouldn’t let me.”

“Well now she really won’t,” MJ snapped. “Because you let Gwen kiss you in front of her. And then you grabbed her waist, like a moron.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “That wasn’t—I didn’t mean to—it was just—instinct or something, I didn’t even realize—”

MJ held up a hand. “I’m getting real tired of that excuse.”

Peter looked like he’d just been stabbed through the chest. “I didn’t know she was there. I swear. If I’d seen her—”

“She saw you,” MJ cut in. “And that’s what matters. You said you wanted her. That you were gonna fix it. But all I’ve seen is Gwen on your arm and Y/N getting smaller and smaller every day.”

Peter opened his mouth. Closed it again.

MJ narrowed her eyes. “And I know it’s Monday. Meaning tonight is your little Love Island night or whatever.”

Peter winced.

“Don’t bother,” she said flatly. “Leave her alone for today. Don’t text her. Don’t call her. And do not show up at the Tower. Or I will end you, Parker.”

Peter looked like a kicked puppy. “I just want to make it right.”

“Then start by staying out of her way.”

With that, MJ turned and walked off down the hall, pulling out her phone as she texted Y/N:

"Let's get out of here."

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

MJ leans against the wall, arms crossed as the elevator hums its way up.

She glances at Y/N, who’s standing a little too confidently by the panel.

“Okay, serious question,” MJ says slowly. “How do you even have access to the private elevator?”

Y/N shrugs, far too casual. “I may or may not have made a copy of Harry’s keycard.”

MJ’s eyes widen. “You what?”

“I was bored and he left it on the kitchen counter. And I wanted to see if I could do it.” A beat. “I could.”

MJ mutters under her breath, “Jesus Christ, you’re both menaces.”

Y/N grins, leaning back against the railing. “You’re not wrong.”

MJ gives her a side eye. “Just so we’re clear—when I said ‘we could call Harry,’ I didn’t mean ‘let’s go break into Oscorp and bother him during whatever big boy job he pretends to have.’”

Y/N snorts. “Relax. I think he’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

The elevator dings.

MJ exhales. “I’m giving this a fifteen minute cap. If he offers you company branded bottled water again, I’m stealing one.”

The elevator dings open.

Harry looks up from a tablet full of schematics, blinking in surprise as MJ and Y/N walk into the sleek, sterile office like it’s their usual hangout spot.

He blinks. “Aren’t you two supposed to be at school right now?”

MJ shrugs. “We ditched.”

Y/N doesn’t say anything. Her arms are crossed, eyes still red. MJ gives Harry a look.

Harry stands immediately. “What happened?”

“Peter,” MJ says flatly.

Harry’s face tightens. “What the fuck did he do now?”

Y/N still doesn’t speak. She’s trying so hard not to cry again.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Harry says, softer now, walking over and wrapping his arms around her. Y/N melts into it.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters into her hair. “You’re a literal Stark. You could have any person on the planet. And you’re out here crying over a walking anxiety spiral with commitment  issues and one good hoodie?”

“Harry,” MJ warns, but she’s clearly holding back a smile.

“No, I’m serious,” Harry says, pulling back slightly to look at Y/N. “I don’t even know him like that and I hate him. If you date him after this, don’t expect us to be besties.”

“She’s not dating him,” MJ mutters.

Harry lifts a brow. “Better not. Because I swear, Y/N/N—if you go back to him after all this, I will personally sabotage it.”

Y/N finally lets out a little laugh, teary but grateful.

He ruffles her hair gently, then waves her toward the couch in his office. “You want snacks? Privacy? Fire Peter’s name into space using company tech? I’m open.”

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The blinds Harry’s apartment were drawn and the coffee table was a disaster — snacks everywhere, empty wrappers, three different drinks sweating into coasters Y/N was sure Harry didn’t even buy himself.

She was curled up in the corner of the absurdly oversized couch, hoodie up, blanket tucked around her legs. MJ was sprawled on the opposite end, a bag of sour candy in her lap and an unread book tossed somewhere behind her.

Harry plopped right in the middle like he owned the place — which, to be fair, he did — remote in hand, smug grin already locked in.

“I’m really considering going on this show,” he said, as they watched the new episode of Love Island. “Imagine me as a bombshell? The villa would go crazy.”

Y/N let out a small laugh, but something pinched in her chest. Last week, Peter told her he could never go on Love Island. She joked he was “too much of a lover boy.” to handle it. He said that she’d win — America would love her. He’d smiled. Said he knew they would. Now here she was, trying not to cry into a throw blanket.

“Your whole thing is being a bombshell,” MJ said through a mouthful of candy. “You came into our lives and look what you did.”

Harry smirked — but there was something soft behind it. “Well, if it took me to come into your lives for Parker to finally realize his love for our girl Y/N… then I’ll do it a million times.”

Y/N exhaled, shaky but quiet. She didn’t say anything.

MJ looked over at Harry, eyes narrowing just slightly. She was still chewing, still skeptical but the edge in her stare was duller now. Less judgment. More... curiosity.

“…You’re really not as bad as I thought,” she muttered.

Harry clutched his chest dramatically. “Oh my god. Was that a compliment? I feel faint.”

“Don’t ruin it,” MJ shot back, tossing a sour gummy at his head.

He laughed and ducked, throwing a piece of popcorn in retaliation. Y/N shook her head and tried to hide her smile.

It wasn’t the same as last week. It wasn’t Peter. But the laughter felt nice. The room felt warm.

She leaned her head back against the couch and let the sound of the show fill the space. It wasn’t everything. But it was something. And tonight — that was enough.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Back in her room now, Y/N sat curled up in bed, the only light in her room coming from the faint blue glow of her lamp and the screen of her phone. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, thumbs twitching slightly.

I wish you'd just be honest with me. I miss you, spiderboy :(

She stared at it. Read it once. Twice.

Deleted it.

Re-typed it.

Deleted it again.

Her phone stayed cradled in her hands as she let her head fall back against the headboard, eyes drifting to the ceiling, trying to will herself to stop waiting.

But it didn’t work. She was waiting.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Peter was lying in the middle of his bed, arms crossed over his chest, phone balanced on top of him like it might burn a hole through his shirt.

The screen lit up. He opened the messages. Y/N’s contact sat there. Untouched. Mocking him.

His fingers shook as he typed.

I should’ve kissed you. I’m so sorry, Y/N/N.

He stared at the words for what felt like forever.

Then he backspaced. Paused. Typed it out again. Backspaced again.

He let the phone fall beside him and groaned into his pillow.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

Back in her room, Y/N blinked at the screen. Her eyes caught it immediately — the little typing bubble.

He was texting her.

He was texting her.

She sat up straighter, clutching the phone, breath caught in her throat.

The bubble blinked for ten seconds. Maybe more.

Then it disappeared.

Nothing came through.

Y/N’s chest sank. Slow. Heavy.

She turned off her phone without checking again, flipped it over face down, and lay back in the dark.

She didn’t cry. She just stared at the ceiling.

Waiting for something that never came.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

taglist: @f2lix @the-faceless-bride @lovely-foxes-exe @gyus-lvr @aomi04 @liaverse37 @pettypeety @pleasingregulus @theyluvmesblog @sqfewrd @ultrunning @boomitsallie1 @caramelfondu @404rogers @marcswife21

author's note: guys tumblr made me split the chapter in two!!!! it was originally 13.8k it was so good but i had to split it im so mad LMAO

now we're not getting chapter 8 until probs saturday cause i'm gonna have to turn it into a real chapter oops

but do yall see the seeds im planting?? do yall see my vision? do yall see where im going?? guys im begging theres something really fucking crazy in the next chapter pls im hopeing you catch on LMAO

GUYS!! SPECIAL SHOUTOUT TO MY QUEEN @uhmellamoanna!!!!! she inspired the tony and peter lab scene!!

[punks-never-die205]

Happy Birthday Cap'n

cisfem!reader x Eustass Kid

No Summary, just lots of smut... about 4,838 words of it.

CW (deep breath): vaginal sex, anal sex, anal play, dildo, vibrator, wax, degradation, swearing, messy sex, impact play, orgasm denial, forced orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, Master, begging, oral, biting, reference to omegaverse but this is not.

@icy-spicy @standfucker @thecaptainsdeck @zoros-sheath here’s the story I mentioned the other day 💕😎

You look at the small toy, clearly unimpressed. The series of beads get a little bigger as it progresses, but for one of Kid’s toys it’s really small.

“Don’t let how it looks now fool you, Mouse.” He says with a wicked grin. “It’s coated in latex but the stuff inside expands with heat, and body heat is enough to trigger it.”

“Expands by how much?”

“Not enough to do damage. I’ve tested it a lot, and then we did trial runs before now. But I can put this in that sweet little tight ass of yours now, and by dinner you’ll be gaping and ready.” He promises.

“If you say so.” You mutter, bending over the bench and putting your ass in the air. “And today I’ll just stay in here the whole time?”

“Yeah,” you can feel him pressing lube into your ass even with the toy’s small size. “Me and the guys have been through it, but I want to be sure with you before you spend a day with one of these in while you’re out and about.”

“Ever the cautious one.” You muse, humming as his finger pushes into your ass. “I do love that about you when it comes to your inventions.”

“You love all of me, Mouse.” He asserts, smacking your ass cheek and getting you to squeak and squirm a little.

“Fuck yeah I do.” You moan the words arching your back, knowing his face is flushed at the declaration.

Kid lubes up the toy too, and then starts to push it in. It always feels weird at first, and he works it in slowly. By the 3rd bead you’re holding onto the bench and melting into the sensation. It’s not just the toy - Kid knows what the fuck he’s doing.

“This is the fourth one, three more to go.” He informs and teases you at the same time, the next slightly larger head pushing in easily.

“Fuuu-Hnnngh, ah. Shit. It’s not fair how good this feels.”

“Heh, you’re like one of those omegas in those comics you and Heat like. Thirsty little fuck no matter how or what hole is getting filled.”

“It’s just cause it’s you.” You pout.

“Oh?” Kid leans over you, pushing the toy to where you can feel the next bead stretching you a little more. “Want me to mark you when you cum then? Drive my teeth,” his words are hot against your back and you can feel him moving to the nape of your neck. “Nice and deep,” he pushes the next part in and you gasp. “Right here?”

“Fuck, fuck, Kid, dammit -.” You squirm but he has you well and pinned. “That spot, you’re, hitting!”

“Heh, man or woman, some people are just blessed to be sensitive in all the best places.” He huffs into your hair, toy seemingly laser targeted onto the spot that’s sending jolts through your body light electricity.

He reaches out with his free hand and grabs one of yours. You hold onto that hand with both of yours, legs and toes curling as he works the toy until you can feel the unavoidable rush of an orgasm building.

“Am I going to bite you, Mouse?” He questions, voice low and commanding.

“Yes, yes please!” You gasp the words, desperate to know how it feels.

“Gonna mark you as mine,” he growls. “Let you warm my cock while this toy expands in your ass. Keep you all to myself today, Mouse.”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck, Kid, I’m kuh-cumming!” You nearly scream the words, and as the pleasure tears through you the bright sting of Kid’s teeth piercing your skin rips pleasure and pain both to new heights. The pleasure wins out as he thrusts the last two beads into your ass.

Kid leans back as you melt into the afterglow. He smacks your ass and you moan, shifting sweetly beneath him.

“Nice work, if I do say so myself.” He muses, running his fingers over the bite mark on your neck. “Let’s get that cleaned and bandaged, then you can sit in my lap while I work.”

“Keepin’ yer cock warm?” You mumble, as Kid helps steady you on your feet.

“Heh, fuck yeah. If you’re good and patient I’ll reward you.” He promises, leaning down and giving you a greedy kiss. “Make you cum so much you’ll work that behemoth out of your ass all on your own.”

Kid gets the much deeper than he’d usually do bite mark cleaned and bandaged, and then gets settled at his work bench. You settle into his lap, facing him, and begin to work his thick cock into your wet cunt.

“Fuck,” you hiss as the girth makes you more aware of the slowly expanding toy in your ass. The shared intrusion has you shivering, panting into Kid’s chest and your legs trembling as you try to work yourself into a comfortable position.

“Sounds like you’re gonna cum.” Kid teases.

“C-Can I?” You gasp, looking up at him. Your face is flushed, and you’re desperate for relief, so full like this, you know how you must look. “Full, I’m so full, I just… need a little bit.” The words fall from your lips like sweet treats, and he swears he can taste them on his tongue.

“No.” He says finally, tearing his gaze away from your face and turning toward the work bench. “Stay still, Mouse.”

The commanding tone is enough to make you clench and you gasp as you hold onto him. Sometimes you would argue, sometimes you would play at being a brat and relish in him putting you in your place, but you were so full. The bite on your neck felt like fingers slipping gently down your back, cowing you and turning you on.

You wanted to melt at his command today.

“Yessir.” You mutter it softly because you barely trust your own voice.

“Listen to you,” he purrs the words, hands already busy with work on the bench. “Try a better word, slut.”

The way he says the word so evenly. There’s no love or disdain on the word, it’s just a statement of what you are. Something about it licks against your cunt like it was his tongue.

“Yes, Master.” You say the words clearly, hands on his sides, keeping yourself steady and still with his pulsing cock inside your pussy, and the expanding toy in your ass. You could feel the soft shift of it, the way the lube would move like cum inside you every time it shifted.

“That’s better little whore.” You can almost hear the grin in his tone, even with how he’s focused on the work between his palms. The degrading word presses against your skin like it was his tongue.

He works in silence for a few minutes, and you try not to feel every single thing.

You swear his heart beat is in his shaft, thumping against your shivering walls. You can feel each fiber of his pants against your thighs, and the coarse tickle of his pubes trying to caress your clit. He moves a little while he works, shifting the world around you only the smallest bit, but it feels like such a large movement.

He smacks your ass with his flesh hand without warning and the surprised sound that parts your lips turns into something truly whorish once it passes your teeth. The impact and your own surprise nearly lifts you off his girth.

“Get your fucking cunt back where it belongs,” he growls and you sink back down. Despite the growing size of the toy in your ass, you’re so wet you sink even lower onto him, your throbbing cunt nestling into his pubic hair.

You lean back a little to keep it from bothering you, and Kid puts a hand on your back, pressing you into his chest and pushing you down a little further.

“Haannngh!” You groan in pleasure, on the edge of an orgasm you’re about ready to start begging for, but it’s only been a few minutes and you know the answer.

“Don’t lean back,” there’s less dom in his voice and more regular Kid. “I don’t want to solder your hair on accident.”

“Kay, okay,” you gasp, shivering against him.

“Gonna cum so soon?” He teases, the edge back in his voice. It sits against your throat and you almost want to ask him to bite you again. “Gonna start calling you Dumpster instead of Mouse.”

“Fah-fuck you,” you gasp. Okay, maybe you couldn’t let go of that bratty streak entirely.

You hear him push back whatever he’s working on before he grabs your hair and leans you back. His cock is still buried inside you, and you swear you can feel your stomach stretch against the new angle.

“What was that, little pet?” He questions, a toothy grin on his face as he looms over you. He looks like a wolf, teeth bared and a glint in his eyes. If he had claws you imagine you’d feel one trailing down your stomach right now.

“I’m… I’m not a cum dumpster.” You try to assert.

“That’s not what you said, slut.” He growls, tugging your hair and making you gasp. He leans down enough to lick a heavy stripe against your clavicle, stopping before he comes around to the bite he left earlier.

“Say.” He licks up the side of your neck. “It.” His teeth tease the soft lobe of your ear. “Again.” He sucks the soft flesh into his mouth, biting on your earlobe and sucking hard enough to bruise it a little.

“Fuck you!” You cry out, the sting of the harsh hickey on your ear making you answer him more loudly than you meant.

“Mmm,” he breathes the sound into your neck. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”

You feel him shift, and hear his belt being pulled loose. “K-Kid, wait, I mean, Master, I didn’t-.”

“Color, Mouse.”

“G-green, I think. Green.” You stammer hastily and Kid kisses you. The soft rush from the contact makes your heart skip and then helps settle your nerves.

He reaches past you with the belt, hooking it to something before having you raise your hands over your head. Looping the belt around them, he makes it snug, but you can free yourself if you need to, and has you hold onto the strap.

The position has you arched and exposed beneath him. Toy in your ass, his cock in your shivering pussy, your shoulder just barely making it to the edge of the bench, and your arms above your head. It leaves your breasts exposed, and keeps your clit from rubbing into his body.

“Hold onto that belt nice and tight,” he commands, roughly palming your breasts. “And I won’t use it on you, bratty little shit.”

You gasp from the pleasure of his hands, one hot and rough, the other smooth and ice cold, against your tits. The sensation causes you to squirm and Kid grabs your hips, holding you still.

“Cum without permission and I’ll use it on your cunt, got it whore?” He growls, and you nod your head. “Say it.”

“If I leggo, you’ll punish me, and if I kuh-cum without permission you’ll,” you whimper, enticed by the idea and afraid of it at the same time. “Use your belt on my cunt.”

“Good girl,” he hums, leering down at you and taking in everything with his sharp golden gaze. “Now, what to do. You couldn’t leave me alone to work, so I’ll have to pass the time a different way.”

You do your best to stay still with him looking at you like that. You can feel the heat rolling through you, on display like this, that darkness dripping from his tone. Kid was always a little rough, always moved you how he wanted, always satisfied you deeply no matter what he did, but sometimes he’d get a little extra mean.

Sometimes you knew before the session started, and sometimes he’d just push and push until you started to crack a little.

A metal candle holder, complete with candle, moves easily into Kid’s hand. A couple snaps of his metal fingers and the candle lights. He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t promise anything. He just stays there, watching the flame slowly melt the wax.

You know what’s coming.

“Please,” you gasp, and Kid’s eyes slip from the small flame of the candle down to you.

“Oh right,” he says sarcastically. “I can’t punish you, if you don’t cum without permission.” He holds the candle in his metal hand and puts his right hand on your stomach. “Fuck, I really can feel it.” He hums, rubbing the taut part of your stomach. It wasn’t an obvious bulge from what you could see, but the lack of squish in your stomach was obvious.

“Not a bad angle.” He hums, shifting his hand just enough to press his thumb into your clit. “You’re not gonna get permission.” He warns, his thumb pressing and rolling against your clit.

“Oh gods, fuck no, no, no, Kid—AH!” You gasp and hiss in a breath as a hot splash of wax licks your stomach, biting roughly before it cools.

“It’s Master, you fucking slut, get it right.” He grumbles.

“Master, master, please…” You gasp, fingers gripping the belt so you don’t let go.

“Now, the faster you give in, the less wax there’s gonna be.” He explains, rolling the candle lazily in his hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll start fucking you before there’s too much.”

“Please, please, please let me cum,” you sputter, the pleasure was already tight in your stomach and it wasn’t going to take much more.

“Oh you’re gonna cum, Mouse.” He promises you. “But you’re not gonna get permission.”

“Ki-Master! Master please!” You beg, squirming beneath him. You were too stretched out to move much, and what little movement you could do did nothing except expedite the growing need in your gut. “Fuck, fuck, please, Master, please, I’m gonna, I’m gonna,” You gasp the words.

“No,” Kid rolls his hips, thrusting into you lovingly.

“Fuuuu-Nnnnnnnngh!” Your entire body tenses, the orgasm pulling your stretched form even more taut as your pussy throbs against his cock. The toy in your ass expands as you clench against it, and it almost feels like you orgasm in the middle of your orgasm.

Just as you pass the peak, body still tense as the pleasure abates slightly, the hot splash of wax on your chest dribbles right over your nipple. Screaming you curl from the harsh sting that bites deeper so close on the heels to your orgasm. The action causes you to fuck Kid and the sweet pleasure of his cock burying into you and against the toy eases some of the pain of the wax.

“Holy… fuck!” You gasp the words, gulping in big lungfuls of air. The contradicting sensations have you a mess, sweat already dappling your skin, sliding coolly down your back.

Kid drips single drops onto your stomach randomly as you come down from your high. His eyes are glued to each little twitch and jerk as the single drops land.

“Shit, fuck,” you hiss and swear, squirming beneath him. You’re trapped, no movement you make will set you free and every jerk and wiggle just makes your stomach tighten, the pleasure skittering through your limbs on the heels of the hot sting from the small drops of wax.

Kid starts to roll his hips into you, and you whimper. The pleasure is going to boil over and if he’s helping it means there’s a good bit of wax still left.

“Please, please,” you nearly sob the words. You don’t know if you want to cum, or just want him to pour the wax at this point. “Fuck I can feel it expanding in my ass,” you whine, squirming and pushing back into him as he thrusts lazily into you.

“Cum,” the word claws out of your mouth in desperation. “Gonna cum!”

“Don’t you dare, whore.” He commands, even as he teases your clit and bullies your cunt. “There’s so much wax- oh, there you go.” He purrs the words as your body tenses in silence. Your legs go rigid against his sides, your toes flexing as you hold onto his belt white-knuckled.

He doesn’t wait for you to come down this time, cutting a line of wax against your lower hips and stomach. The harsh line seems to want to hit your clit but he doesn’t go that far down. You suck in a gasp of air, pussy grinding into him as the sting from the wax makes your hips shake to try and throw off the already cooling substance.

“Yuh-yellow,” your word is airy and tired, fingers shivering and flexing against the belt. Kid sets the candle aside and has you let go of the loops of belt.

Cradling you in his big metal hand, the cool metal feeling wonderful against your hot skin. You catch your breath for a moment and Kid gives you a little water.

“How’s your ass?”

“If this thing vibrated I’d be passed out by now.” You admit with a soft smile. “But it’s not uncomfortable. It’s expanding very slowly, despite all the heat and such.”

“Afraid of it coming out?”

You shake your head. “Nah, but, uh…” your face flushes hot despite the moment of reprieve. “I’d rather… you.”

“Me?” Kid prompts, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers and thumb and making you look at him. “Say it clearly, Mouse.”

“I-.”

“Look into my eyes you shameless little slut.” He commands and you feel the embarrassment rush you again. “You’re my whore, I know you want to beg me like the dirty fuck you are.”

You bring your gaze to his and your cunt throbs against his cock from the look on his face alone. The devilish grin on his lips lets you know he could feel it.

He leans down, keeping your gaze trapped. “Call me Captain when you beg, Mouse.”

The breath you breathe in shivers at the command.

“Please, uh…” you swallow thickly, bracing against him and slowly riding him as best you can in this position. “Fuh-fuck me in the ass, Captain, please. Take, take this toy out and fill me with your cum, please, Captain, please.”

“Need me that bad?” He muses and you nod.

“Fuck me up Kid, I’m begging like a good Mouse.” You nearly demand it, hands on his face. He lets you pull him into a kiss as his hand overs down to your breasts, the rough grip peeling cooled wax away carelessly. You whine and squirm into the kiss, but you don’t break it.

“Everything for you, Mouse.” He says, breaking the kiss and lifting you off his lap.

You moan at the feeling of his cock leaving you empty and wanting. Turning you over he puts you face down on the work bench. You grab onto the belt just to have something to hold onto, and Kid’s hands are on your cheeks, squeezing them until you kick and squirm from the sensation.

“Fuck… every squeak you make is perfect.” He husks before putting his metal hand against your back again. It’s not as cold as it had been earlier, warmed by the heat of your skin, but it’s still colder than you and it feels good.

He grabs the base of the toy in your ass and starts to pull it free. The first bead is the largest, and you gasp as it stretches the tight ring of muscles of your sphincter. You do what you can to help ease it out, having learned from Kid that you could push and your body would do what it could.

The sensation as it pops free as has you squirming beneath his hand. He pushes it back against your entrance, as though he means to push it back in, and you moan so deeply it’s almost a growl as the beads rub your insides.

He pulls the second one out and does push it back in and your back arches against his metal hand as you gasp in pleasure and surprise. He pulls it out and then keeps pulling, slowly but steadily freeing each bead as you moan and wriggle, trapped between his hand and the workbench.

“Fuck! I need to fill you up.” He growls, tossing the toy aside and standing up behind you. “You’re gaping and soaked in lube, I’m just gonna-.” The head of his cock is pressed into your ass and slips in so easily you nearly cum from the intrusion.

“Fuck!” You both swear, his hands on your ass cheeks again, spreading them apart as he sinks in deeper and deeper.

“Gods, fucking, seas, I’m gonna cum!” You cry out as his fingers knead the meat of your ass cheeks. Kid doesn’t sink any deeper, instead grinding the point he’s at. “Not, not there, shit shit I’m gonna-fuck!-hnnngh!”

You release your hold on the belt, beating your fists into the table as you cum hard against his cock. You can feel the slick drip down your thighs without him in your pussy, the sensitive walls fluttering against nothing as your ass spasmed against the rock hard beast buried in it.

“I love the way you cum,” Kid hums, pushing in deeper even as you’re still shivering from the orgasm. “The way your whole body feels it. The fucking sounds you make,” his voice is getting husky as he presses his hips flush into your ass cheeks. Hands by your shoulders, looming over you, watching you tremble beneath him.

The sweet mewl he pulls from your lips as he licks up your spine between your shoulder blades nearly makes him cum.

He shifts, using his legs to force yours wide. Gasping you grab back onto the belt as the new position has you braced against his legs more than the table. You aren’t surprised when the bulb of the wand vibrator nestles against your clit.

“Oh gods, oh gods, Kid, Kid - wait, wait - I…” you whine but your body betrays as your hips wiggle into the toy.

“Color,” he commands and you nearly sob.

“Yellow, green - fuck don’t stop! Please, please it’s gonna take me out.” You whine. “I’m gonna scream, I swear!”

“I’ll turn it on when I cum.” Kid says, thrusting into your ass until there’s loud wet smacks from the excess lube on your skin. It’s not even a minute and he throws the vibrator on, pushing in deep as the vibrations rock your clit and he empties his balls into your ass.

He fucks you through his orgasm and pushes you over the edge in the process. Kid growls a swear between his teeth as he overstimulates himself with your body, and you scream a mix of swears and his name as you squirt your orgasm onto the workshop floor. His metal hand is braced on the table in front of you and you hold onto it for dear life as your body shudders uncontrollably with euphoric pleasure.

“Fuck,” Kid growls again, dropping the wand and thrusting into you roughly until you can feel him twitching and unloading into your ass a second time. “Shit,” he huffs, sweat dripping from his brow onto your back. “Fuck I haven’t cum back to back like that, in a fucking hot minute.”

Leaning down, he kisses down your back as he slowly pulls out of your ass. You mewl and gasp softly, shivering against the pleasure and strange sensation of his exit.

“Good job, Mouse.” He hums as he pulls out completely.

Rolling you onto your back he leans down and kisses you. You’re both a sweaty mess, hair clinging to skin, sex and exhaustion heavy in the air, skin salty from everything. He’s kissing trail down your jaw to your neck, and he leans back enough to start peeling the errand bits of left over wax still on your skin.

His fingers carefully flake away the hard and cooled wax as he licks and suckles your nipples gently. The soft pleasures almost make you giggle as you sigh happily.

“I’m sweaty,” you hum and he makes a soft knowing sound, still kissing and licking your skin.

His eyes meet yours as his kisses descend lower. You bite your lower lip, and shift in anticipation. He brushes away the wax along your lower abs and hips with his hands as his tongue presses heavy against your throbbing clit.

“Fuck, Kid - Captain, if I cum again you’ll have to carry me.” You sigh, your hips pressing into his mouth greedily.

“It’s my birthday, Mouse.” He hums into your mound. “I’m going to carry you out of here, wash you, and fuck your pretty clean pussy all over again.”

You whimper, but you can feel the orgasm building again. Deciding not to fight it, or him, you put your hands in his hair and listen to him moan against your clit. He licks long heavy strips against your folds and clit, working you up slowly and inevitably. Lifting your legs with his hands, he spreads and bends them back enough to plunge his tongue into your vagina, his pointed nose pressing into your clit.

“Wait, Kid, I think, I think I’mma squah!” The word breaks from a rush of pleasure, and you need a second to try again. “Squirt again, if you do that I’ll -!” The focused look on his face makes you clench against his tongue and the heat rush through you. “I can’t, I can’t - it’s like peeing on you, and I can’t,” you gasp as Kid leans back.

“I’d drink that too,” he answers easily, lifting one of your legs up into the air and slapping your soaking clit. The slap sounds louder than the impact feels, but the strike still has enough force behind it to send a powerful jolt through you. You nearly came from it, gasping in a heavy breath and scrambling to know how he managed to ride the line like that.

“Mm, one day I’m going to spank your cunt until you cum from it.” He muses, hands on your ass cheeks again as he uses that grip to pin your pussy between his hands and mouth.

Your shoulders are still barely on the work bench, and from this angle you can’t see what he’s doing, you can only feel it. Your legs and arms flail for a few seconds until your body realizes it’s not going anywhere no matter how to squirm, and the relentless pleasure from his mouth between your thighs left you little recourse except to lay there and take it.

Breathy swears babbled from your lips like a soft and delirious prayer, your body slow growing more and more tense as the pleasure you couldn’t escape coiled tighter and tighter. Your toes curled as the inevitable began to crest, your chest rose as your back arched from the tension building in your muscles.

Your babbled prayer became a panting rush of almost fearful whimpers, the slow build reaching a height you had expected to already peak. The same grip that kept you from getting away, also held you steady even as your curled body began to tremble. The tears that pooled in your eyes spilled over as the tension snapped.

Gushing against Kid’s face you can barely hear the splatter against the floor this time. You can feel him swallowing even as his lips kept bullying your clit. Spots dance over your vision and your hands smack on the table as your heels drive bruises into his shoulders. You can’t control any of the movements, and when you heave in a breath the only sound that escapes you almost sound angry, more war cry than moan of pleasure, but it helps ease some of the tension in your muscles.

Stiff arms and a curled back collapse into the workbench reaching out for Kid with sobs on your lips as his continued licking is hurdling you into overstimulation. His tongue teases toward your ass before he stops short and licks one last heavy slurp all the way up your slit.

“Fuck, you’re delicious.” He says it like he’d just devoured a full course meal. Kid moves you so you’re laying out as comfortably as possible on the workbench for a moment while you catch your breath. Your hazy gaze is full of love and bliss and if he could stop any moment, it would always be this one.

“That’s my girl,” he hums softly, never really sure if you hear him or not, kissing your forehead, and caressing your face.

When you have your senses gathered enough you reach out for him, and he scoops you into his arms easily, cradling you against his chest and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Happy birthday, cap’n.” You mutter lovingly, snuggling into the mountain of warmth that held you just a little bit closer.

[yariation]

MEGUMI’S BIRTHDAY!!

Featuring: Inserted Reader, Yuji, Nobara, Megumi, Maki, Toge, Panda, Gojo

Pairing: Slight Megumi x Reader

Warnings: Comedy

Word count: 1200

_________________________________________

December 22nd _________________________________________

3rd Person POV

The three teenagers tiptoe, retreating to the brunette girl's dorm room. Yuji coughing as he practically suffocates in the nail polish fume filled room. (Y/n) and Nobara quickly shushing him, Nobara even placing a firm hand on his mouth. In a dark threatening tone, she tells him to shut up. In an instant the boy complies, nodding and Nobara slowly retracts her hand.

"So, what's the plan?" (Y/n) asks the other two.

"I don't know." Nobara replies with an unhelpful answer.

"I thought you had a plan." Yuji adds, also equally unhelpful.

"What? No. It was your idea." (Y/n) retorts defensively in the heat of panic that no one has any ideas.

"Kugisaki was the one that suggested a SURPRISE party." Yuji adds, involving Nobara.

There's a bit of mindless whisper bantering for a while, until Nobara speaks up.

"Okay, fine! Everyone shut the fuck up!" Nobara whisper yells and everyone goes silent.

A bit of silence passes while everyone brain storms alone. This is the only way to avoid conflict and yelling.

"Well... I used to be friends with Tsumiki." (Y/n) mentions to the rest.

"Who's Tsumiki?" The two ask in unison.

(Y/n) looks at them a bit dumbfounded. They didn't know about Megumi's sister?

"Tsumiki is Fushiguro's sister." (Y/n) explains.

The others so badly want to ask so many questions right now, but they got a task at hand. So Yuji and Nobara simply nod.

"Alright then!" Yuji whisper yells in celebration.

"Ah! And Maki is Fushiguro's cousin, right?" Nobara asks.

(Y/n) nods.

"That's right. We should call the second years over too. They probably know more about Fushiguro than us." Yuji grins.

(Y/n) slips her phone out of her pocket and dials Toge. He answers soon enough, starting with "Salmon?". (Y/n) simply tells him and the others to come over to Nobara's dorm QUIETLY.

There's a bit of rustling over the phone, Toge hasn't hung up. He seems to be leaving his dorm, then a knock is heard, followed by the angry yelling of Maki.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT AT THIS TIME?!-"

Was the last thing the three first years heard over the phone speaker, before the familiar hanging up beep sounds and Toge's profile picture disappears.

~~~

"Megumi would hate that." Maki says, her arms crossed as she stands in her silk pajamas in front of the three huddled up first years.

"But Maaakkkiiii!" Yuji and Nobara whine.

"Maki's right guys. Fushiguro is a grumpy dude. I'm not sure if he'd appreciate a surprise party." Panda adds.

(Y/n), Nobara, Yuji and Toge hang their heads in defeat, even Panda is disappointed. That's when Maki's voice reaches everyone's ears. It's low, laced with a bit of mischief.

"That's right. He'd hate it... Let's do it!" Maki exclaims in a whisper.

Everyone's heads perk up and little cheers are heard, followed by lots of planning.

~~~

Megumi's POV

I stir awake in my bed, bothered by the sound of obnoxious voices. Half of my face squished against my pillow, which I flip to the cold side. I bring my hands up to curve pillow in a way to cover my ears.

Are they seriously having another sleepover? At least I'm not invited this time...

Sighing quietly to myself, I'm glad I wasn't forced to join their idiotic tomfoolery this time. Though I don't seem to understand why I find myself pouting slightly in disappointment.

It doesn't last long because I knock back out to sleep.

~~~

3rd Person POV

"Are you sure you need spar training, (L/n)?" Megumi asks, hands stuffed in his pockets.

(Y/n) and Megumi are walking side by side down a school building hallway, according to plan.

"I'm sure." (Y/n) assures him.

"Why not Maki or Itadori?" Megumi asks curiously, but not skeptical.

This was the first time (Y/n) has asked to spar with him. He's not gonna lie, he was honored to, but why him? He'd make fun of your jog in gym back then. Now you're asking him to train with you?

"Because Maki's strict and Itadori hurts as fuck even if he doesn't mean to." (Y/n) admits, sighing. Her words weren't a lie though.

This was just a ploy to get him to the school lounge room, of course, but it my actually be a good idea for (Y/n) to train with Megumi.

With a simple nod, Megumi makes no objections and they continue their quiet walk. As planned, the two of you pass by the sliding door to the lounge room. Yuji, Nobara, Panda, Toge and Maki stand ready on the other side, listening for their footsteps, which they soon hear.

"HELP! THERE'S A COCKROACH!! AHHH!!! KkIiIiILllL IiITt!!" Nobara screams in her best 'I'm scared' acting voice.

Nobara's screams are soon followed by Yuji's. (Y/n) and Megumi freeze in front of the door. The mischievous teenagers have already rehearsed this, but the screaming catches poor (Y/n) off guard. She struggles to hold back a laugh.

"Good grief..." Megumi's mutters.

The two approach the door, Megumi slides it open. He's met by confetti assaulting his face, his friends standing with party hats on their heads and Gojo's terrifying tall figure approaching him.

"SURPRISE!!!" They all exclaim in unison.

Megumi looks at the sight with wide eyes. Probably not sure whether to be pissed, confused, annoyed or... Happy.

"What the hell is this?" Megumi grumbles, but he knows damn well what this is.

"Happy birthday, Fushiguro!" Yuji does jazz hands, gesturing to the table holding gifts for the said boy.

Gojo walks over to his "adoptive son" and ruffles up his hair, making the boy scowl. Gojo hands him a little gift bag that's probably filled with sweets or something.

"For little Megumi on his special day!" The white haired man chirps.

Don't worry, everyone has agreed to skip singing happy birthday. We want Megumi to feel embarrassed and awkward, not die.

Everyone walls him over to the table that holds the food that everyone made. There a nice steamy ceramic pot of Yuji's soup and chicken ginger meatballs. A chocolate cake with coffee flavored frosting that (Y/n) made and little decorated snacks Maki, Toge and Nobara made or bought. Such as rice balls, mochi and hanami dango.

Megumi couldn't hide the small smile that starts to curve his lips. With a little a roll, he mutters in his usual dark and gloomy voice, which is now laced with amusement.

"Thanks guys."

For the rest of the day, the first and second years spend the time chatting, eating, teasing Megumi, watching movies and playing games.

~~~

Megumi, being the conservative dude he is, didn't want to open the gifts in front of everyone. He kept refusing to open the gift Maki kept shoving his face earlier that day. 

Now here he is, alone in his room with a little pile of presents. He decides to open Yuji's gift first, finding treats for his Divine dogs inside, along with a kind letter.

He opens the one from Maki, it's a weapon polishing cloth and a pack of gum. In Toge's gift bag, he finds a Fortnite gift card. From Panda there is no gift, but a little card. From Nobara he finds a comfortable plain black sweatshirt.

Then he reaches (Y/n)'s gift, which is quite badly wrapped in what seems to be baking paper, but there's a nice bow. He unwraps the gift with precaution and finds a book, making his ears perk up slightly.

He doesn't get his hopes up too high though, it might just be some sort of cringey love novel or dorky book. To his surprise though, he flips the book and reads the back, finding out that it's a non-fiction about quite an interesting topic.

After setting all the gifts down on his desk, he allows himself to smile, now that there are no prying eyes.

Getting up, he shuffles to his bed, burying himself into his covers, holding a book.

He lays down on his side, thumbs tracing over the smooth cover of the book from (Y/n) before cracking it open. _______________________________________________

[dollfacewinston]

"I want to figure this out." I was pacing, my body getting hot as I tried to gather my thoughts.

"What's to figure out? You're with the nerd now. No big deal."

I stopped to look at him, my brows drawing close. He had a frown on his face, but none of the other signs I was used to. His face was relaxed, his arms crossed loosely. The only sign of agitation was his fingers drumming against his arm.

"You don't miss me?" It was too selfish of a question. I knew it the moment it left my mouth, but I couldn't help it. Something stung in my chest, like a broken rib only half healed.

Crimson eyes narrowed and Katsuki snarled, sneering as he looked away. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

"What kind of answer is that?" I challenged right away. His glare slid to land on me, but I'd never been intimidated by him and I wasn't about to start now. "I shouldn't have left."

"The hell you shouldn't! You're... happy with him. Happier than you were with me," he added in a grumble.

It hurt. I didn't like that he was right. My lip trembled. "I miss you," I said.

"I know." That answer surprised me. I stood frozen in place as he stood up, crossing the room in a few strides to stand in front of me. "You shouldn't wait up," he said even as he lifted my chin so I would look him in the eye.

Shame built up as hot tears blurred my vision. I regretted every turn that brought us here. The late nights talking, hours upon hours training together. I even thought bitterly on the weekend we'd spent in the dorms as 3rd years at UA, shut in together while I took a pill to undo a mistake. Our mistake would have been 3 now, and maybe distance would never have settled between us as a result.

"Wanna go half on a baby?" I remembered asking him barely a year ago. He'd laughed sharply and said "Hell no!" We laughed together then, but my stomach dropped a little more every time I watched him roll on a condom. He didn't want to be tied to me then, and he didn't miss me now.

"You're spiraling," he murmured like he cared.

"You don't love me anymore," I matched his volume, my lips barely parting to get out the words.

He stayed quiet for a long moment. Maybe it was a moment too long. I could feel myself shaking and I took a step back from him. His hand lingered where he'd been holding my face, then he clenched it into a fist and let it drop. I tried to speak but nothing came out. Suddenly, it wasn't that I couldn't talk anymore, but I didn't want to. I couldn't talk to Katsuki. It wasn't his place to comfort me anymore.

It was Izuku's.

I took another step back towards the door. "I'll see you around." It was inevitable. We still shared friends. His mom still hung out with Izuku's mom. We'd forever be associated, just no longer connected.

I wondered if I would forget how to read him one day. If the minute widening of his eyes, the sharp intake of breath wouldn't give me pause while I waited for him to open up. I hoped it wouldn't hurt for the rest of our lives to turn my back to him, to open a door without the expectation that he would follow behind. I could feel the scorching heat of his gaze through the now-closed door but I forced myself to ignore it as I walked swiftly towards the elevator and took out my phone.

"Sorry I've had a busy patrol! I'll bring dinner when my shift is done <3"

The tension melted from my body. Communication. No long silences or need for interpretation. No more extended bouts of isolation. The elevator arrived and I stepped on, pressing the button for the ground floor as I tapped out a response.

"That'd be great <3 Get xtra plz? I'm starving!" Or, at least, I would be by the time I finished my walk home.

My phone went off by the time I was leaving Agency Todoroki. "Anything for you."

[dancingtotuyo]

In the Silence (Joel Miller)

As often happens, my one shot turns into multiple shots. Second part to Build you the World

Joel Miller X Reader

Rating: PG-13 (some sexual references, language)

Warnings: 3rd trimester pregnancy, descriptions of pregnancy and labor (not really a lot for the actual child birth)

Tags: pre-outbreak, no outbreak (they deserve happiness!), pregnancy, fluffiness, Craftsman!Joel, 90s references, we are in 1995 folks!

Words 2832

Series Master List | Author Master list

You groaned spread out on the bed in nothing but your cotton nightgown. A foot jammed into your lungs and another your spine forcing you to your side. The foot jammed deeper into your lung stealing your breath away.

“You little brat. If I suffocate, I take you with me, you know.” You said, looking at your ever-growing stomach.

“That’s no way to speak to our son.” Joel leaned against the door, hands tucked in his pockets in such a way that you were sure that exact stance is what got you into this position in the first place.

“Go away. I don’t want to see you.”

Joel chuckled. “You don’t mean that, baby.”

“Yes, I do. You made me this way.”

Joel raised an eyebrow shaking his head. You groaned, not because of the baby playing tennis with your internal organs but because despite not wanting to be touched, desire coursed through your veins. You both wanted Joel inside you and to get the fuck away from you. Pregnancy was weird and annoying and wonderful and all that other cliche stuff pregnant women say. Another swift kick to your lungs was all the cold water you needed. You grunted having to catch your breath.

“Damn, I saw him move on that one.” Joel sat on the edge of your shared bed. You’d moved in at the start of your second trimester once the morning sickness tapered.

“Yeah, right into my lungs.” You shift ever so slightly, trying to create separation between your son’s foot and the organ that kept you breathing.

“Maybe he is a little bit of a brat.” Joel winked at you and you managed a chuckle. “Must be your genes kickin' in.”

You swatted his arm. He laughed, leaning down to kiss your cheek. You allowed it, warming up to the idea of having him near. You were in a constant state of fluctuation, swinging back and forth between wanting Joel as close as possible to not wanting him anywhere near you.

“Sarah is home, wants to know if she can come up. Wants to watch a movie in our bed.” He pressed a kiss right under your ear. Was he trying to seduce you?

“Sounds good to me.” You were more than happy not to have to go down stairs.

Going down stairs meant you had to go back up and that was getting harder by the day. Last night Joel was practically moving your body for you and you were still breathless before reaching the top. Joel was by no means weak. He’d had no problem throwing you over his shoulder 9 months ago, but two weeks from your due date, you’d gained 40lbs and your body weight distribution was different. You both shared fears that both of you might end up at the bottom of the steps if he attempted to carry you up. Throwing you over his shoulders wasn’t really an option right now.

“Might just keep you to myself for a few more minutes.” He grinned, another kiss on your neck. Your breath caught.

His hand traveled over your bare collarbone. Goosebumps rose over your skin. It followed down over your swollen, sensitive breasts. A soft moan. His hand traveled down further. He leaned into you more, more of his body touching yours, and you were done. Not in a good way.

He felt your body language change beneath him. “Ugh, I need to not be touched right now.”

Joel sighed, pulling back with an understanding smile. “I’ll go get, Sarah.”

“Will you bring me a snack?”

“Apples?”

“With peanut butter?”

“Is there any other way, my love?” Joel smiled. He disappeared around the corner and immediately, a fist to your bladder.

“Joel?”

You heard him turn and come back up the stairs. “Yeah?”

“Will you help me up? Your son just stabbed my bladder.”

He chuckled, offering out his hands. You took them moving to a sitting position. Joel waited for your nod until helping you to your feet. “Got it from here?”

“I think you.” You laugh, waddling toward the bathroom, and it was a true waddle.

The doctors estimated the baby was going to be at least 8 pounds and with 2 weeks left to your due date, you couldn’t believe he could get any bigger. The pressure you felt all around your abdomen, and as hot as you felt all the time, and the pressure, and the kicks to your internal organs, and the thought of delivering an 8-pound baby, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You loved feeling your son move around in your womb, especially when he wasn’t targeting your internal organs. He was a physical expression of the love you felt for the man downstairs.

You stopped at the nursery door. You loved this room. Joel had finished the crib months ago, adding some more detailing to the rails. You ran a hand over it. It brought tears to the surface every time you looked at it.

The three of you had painted the walls a soft green. Sarah had been so happy to be included in the painting but lost interest after the first hour.

Your eyes drifted to the rocking chair. Joel crashed your baby shower. You smiled as you remembered the look on your mother’s face as he walked through the door. Your mother, ever the traditionalist, was horrified when a man crashed the event. Joel was already on her bad side for knocking you up and not marrying you immediately.

Joel had bustled in, declaring it was “his son too.” He’d set the rocking chair down right in front of you presenting it to you like a male penguin presenting a pebble to his mate. You’d fallen even more in love with him.

You fought the urge to sit in the rocking chair. You’d have to call Joel to get up if you did. You placed a hand on top of your stomach, it was much more than a bump at this point. “I love you so much little man. We can’t wait to meet you.”

You made your way back to the bedroom, easing down as Sarah bounded in. You smiled. “Hi Princess. How was school?” She’d started first grade this fall.

She climbed onto the bed. Joel came in close behind her, VHS tape in hand. “Good, Miss Jordan said we’re having Show and Tell next month. Can I take my baby brother? He’ll be here by then, right?”

You laughed, kissing her head. “I don’t think so. He’ll be too little, but you could take a picture of him instead.”

Sarah sighed, seeming to contemplate the proposition. “I’ll have to think about it.”

You caught Joel’s smile out of her periphery. “What movie did you pick?”

“Lion King.”

“Yeah, and someone forgot to rewind it last time,” Joel said, shooting a teasing smile at Sarah.

“Oops.” Sarah giggled.

You settled onto your side, fighting the heaviness of your eye lids. Sarah loved the Lion King so much you were sure the 2 month old VHS tape would need to be replaced before Christmas. It made you cry. Joel would tell you “cry” was an understatement. He was probably right. Weep might be more accurate.

Sarah sat with her back against your stomach. She’d learned not to put too much weight against you. Just enough that it didn’t trigger the need for personal space and just enough that she could feel the baby when he kicked.

Joel hit play and Sarah was instantly absorbed into the world. Joel settled on the other side of the bed, facing you. He brushed your hair back, fingers light over your cheek and neck. You smiled through shut eyes. He leaned over, breath hot in your ear. “Let me know if it gets to be too much, we can move downstairs.”

Between the noise of the TV and the breeze from the fan, sleep felt nearer than consciousness. You floated in the in-between haze. You grabbed his hand, letting it set on top of your stomach. Almost on cue, there was a thud in your womb right under Joel’s hand. Sarah has felt it too.

She giggled. “This is my favorite part too.”

You kept your voice soft and quiet. “Just wake me up after the sad part.” - Mufasa’s death of course, but just saying it made tears well in your eyes.

Joel chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Of course, baby.” Another to your forehead. “I love you.”

~

Your first contraction came at the grocery store. You’d insisted Joel take you with him this week, desperate to get out of the house. You’d had a little spurt of energy today which was a welcome change. You didn’t pay any mind to it, passing it off as Braxton Hicks.

The second one came as you pulled into the driveway. You paused in the passenger seat as it passed. Joel tapped on the door, a brown paper bag in one hand. “You good baby?”

You opened the door. “Yeah, just some Braxton Hicks.”

He offered his free hand and you took it. He pulled you up, bicep straining under his t-shirt. His hand rested on your back as he lead you inside. Sarah bounded across the Adler’s front yard into yours as soon as she spotted the two of you.

“Hey princess, you have a good time with the Adlers?” You sent Mrs. Adler a wave of thanks and assurance.

Sarah shrugged. “It was alright.”

Joel chuckled. Your neighbors were a little out there, but sweet nonetheless. They doted on Sarah like she was their grandchild. Joel’s parents had walked out of his life when he was a teenager. Your Dad died from a heart attack just a month after meeting Joel. He never got to meet Sarah and your mother… she wasn’t jumping to play grandma to either of your children. As odd as they might be, you both appreciated the Adlers' influence in Sarah’s life.

You and Joel never really talked about it, but somewhere along the line, Sarah had become yours too. You’d been around for over half of her life now. It was bound to happen. You were the backup contact at school, picked her up several days a week when you were nine months pregnant. You went to parent-teacher conferences. You’d learned the intricacies of caring for hair. You went to parent-teacher conferences and cared for her when she was sick. She’d called you mom once. Sarah hadn’t even realized it. Joel had come home to find you crying in the kitchen.

“Can we get a dog? The Adlers just got a dog. Her name is Mercy”

“You’re about to get a baby brother.”

“Can I teach him to do tricks?”

Joel shrugged. “Don’t see why not.”

You smacked Joel’s shoulder stifling a laugh. He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your head as he went to collect the rest of the groceries.

By dinner time you’d had three more contractions. Sarah suckered you two into a movie night that extended past her bedtime. You and Joel both wanted to treasure the last few moments with just her before the baby came. You’d managed to talk her out of The Lion King and into a princess movie.

Joel noticed you shifting throughout the movie. It wasn’t uncommon for you to move around a lot, but tonight you seemed to be extra restless. The contractions were coming steadily every 15 minutes.

Joel took Sarah up to bed. You were down to 10 minutes. It started to set in that maybe you were in labor. The thought paralyzed you. It was like one of those things you know is going to happen, but illogically you think will never actually come.

“You feeling okay, Baby? You were shifting around an awful lot?”

The TV glowed blue in front of you. A hand rested on your bump. “I think I’m in labor.”

“Oh shit…”

You laughed. “Oh, shit is right.”

Joel kneeled in front of you, taking your hand. You smiled at him. You could read the nerves firing off inside of him. You squeezed his hand. “Walk with me?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Shouldn’t we go?”

You shook your head. “I’m at 10 minutes apart.” Joel nodded. The doctor said 7 minutes. You could tell Joel was fighting the urge to jump into “do-er” mode. “And I want to walk around our home one last time, just you and me.”

His thumb rubbed your hand. “Okay, baby.”

He stood, offering his hands as he had so many times. You accepted and he pulled you up. Neither of you said a word. His hand rested low on your hip and you settled yours on top of your stomach. You walked through the kitchen and then back to the living room. Nothing but the dark of night and peace between you. You left the back door open and wandered into the backyard, walking the fenceline. Joel had started to outline where the raised beds would go. That was his next project. He’d finished the back porch just as the winter chill settled in.

You stopped as another contraction started. Joel paused almost simultaneously like he sensed it. You made a few laps around the yard at a snail’s pace. Another contraction hit. Joel didn’t say anything as he glanced down at his watch, but you knew it hadn’t been ten minutes yet. He steered you inside.

He closed the door. You sighed, not wanting to break the silence. You could tell Joel was barely keeping it together. “Go get Mrs. Adler.”

He looked like a weight lifted off his shoulders. He kissed your forehead. “I’ll be right back.”

You rand through the mental checklist. Your bag was in the car. You were in comfy clothes. There were two hair ties on your wrist. Shoes, you needed a pair of those. Your sandals sat by the front door. Joel was getting Mrs. Adler. You would call your mom from the hospital. Sarah- you sighed. You wanted more than anything to go kiss her forehead. You weren’t making up the stairs, you knew that. So you pictured her in her room, snuggled until the covers her chest rising and falling steadily. You pressed a kiss to your hand, sending it up to her room on your breath. This might be your first baby, but that little girl made you a mom.

Joel came in. Mrs. Adler was hot on his heels. “You ready?”

“Yeah.” You nodded. Mrs. Adler gave you a hug. You’d gone over the plan last week. Numbers were on the fridge and fresh sheets on the guest bed.

~

Your labor progressing at a linear rate would’ve been too easy. Once checked in at the hospital, your contractions were 5 minutes apart. However, your cervix only measured at 2 cm. That was 36 hours ago. Your labor had basically stopped around 3 am that first night. They’d tried everything to keep it going. Walks up and down the hallway, drugs, but nothing worked. You felt like a medical miracle or something. You and Joel had even snuck off to the bathroom for a quickie. Nothing did it. They discussed breaking your water, but labor had pretty much stopped. Your contractions turning sporadic. The doctors talked about a c-section, but you and the baby appeared to be fine. The only thing keeping them from sending you home was wanting to monitor both of your vitals.

Joel was restless. His eyes were bloodshot from nurses interrupting your sleep every couple of hours. You imagined you looked to be in similar shape. Visitors weren’t allowed in until after you had the baby, but Joel met Sarah and Mrs. Adler for an hour that second afternoon. He returned in much better spirits.

It made you more cranky. You missed Sarah. You were tired of being in the hospital, and dammit if you didn’t just want to hold your baby in your arms.

“If my labor doesn’t start by supper, I want a c-section.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Joel nodded. He kissed your forehead.

At 4 pm, the contractions started up again almost out of nowhere. By 4:30, Joel squeezed your hand while your doctor instructed you on what to do. At 5:07 pm on a crisp March evening, Asher Joel Miller made his way into the world. He announced his entrance into the world with the scream of healthy lungs weighing 8 pounds, 12 ounces, a number you never let Joel forget.

The medical personnel filtered out of the room. Asher, having been cleaned up, now rested contently between you and Joel. He had Joel’s nose and you could see the promise of brown curls on his head. Joel kissed your forehead and then your son’s. He pulled you in tighter. He didn’t need to say a word and neither did you. You felt his love running over like the bathtub when Sarah left the facet running.

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester's Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Word Count: 888

*Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter

Warnings: A/B/O, non/con elements , dub/con elements, enslavement, pandemic, non/con drug use, collaring/leashing, forced mating, forced breeding, BDSM elements, show-level violence

*Additional warnings to be added

*Square filled: @spnabobingo - Alpha Challenging Alpha

A/N: * UPDATED 3/24

A/N II: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N III: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

GIF by antiquerss

Part II

“Dean's preference of type doesn’t matter, but I want one under eighteen.” 

Sam’s head snapped up in shock. That wasn’t the plan; John was specific that O should be older than Dean and preowned, making them cheaper to repurchase. “Dad, why are you wanting…?” John cut him off with a low growl, provoking Sam’s inner wolf to reciprocate, neither noticing Helms studying their interaction with interest.

Alpha Winchester can’t wholly control this beauty like the other one. The boss will be pleased to learn about these developments. 

“A House O would normally do on paper,” Helms interrupts, “But I know this judge, they will not be satisfied with that alone.”  Both Winchesters have matching, confused expressions, and he continues before John can ask what that means.

 “The judge will require that I follow the statutes in Hibbins and your pack's unusual dynamics: three virile, unmated Alphas with no permanent abode, residing whatever. House O’s have a breed down to need stability, so a Pack Omega would be ideal even if they're as scarce as Phoenix and need the right connections, but there's your social standing.” That remark made Sam snort. It wasn’t the first time someone had mentioned their social standing, not so slyly code for a dirt-poor pack. 

“I have a few in the preferred age range we could negotiate over, but I suspect you won’t allow your Subordinate to breed them. The judge probably will consider that a deal breaker. The best option is an altered pre-owned Feral. And fortunate for you, I’ve recently acquired a selection from a fire sale. This way, gentlemen.” 

Dean's wolf whines, watching his pack move farther into the building. At the same time, he can only stand there, as ordered, and observe these unfortunate creatures bartered over as the livestock society considers them. His Alpha knew it would eat at his ingrained, perpetual guilt and is part of the repentance he has to endure because, once vexed, John Winchester never forgave or forgot.

Sam's inner wolf was getting more unquiet the longer they were in this den of iniquity. He knew the only reason John wanted him near was an additional jab at Dean to emphasize his failures. Fuck, he hated their Alpha using Dean's guilt against himself whenever displeased. Sam couldn’t see Dean from where they were, getting pissed that John was now only focusing on a couple of O’s that’d caught his interest.

Sam instinctually knew she was all wrong and, without realizing it, started vocalizing his displeasure. “What’s your problem now?” John barked at him. “They’re undoubtedly your type, sir,” Sam replied with his usual bluntness that made John's jaw clench, grudgingly reflecting on his youngest observation.

As the Dominant Alpha of his pack, John ultimately decided how they functioned, including mating. He cringed internally, remembering the drinking confession inadvertently made to Sam shortly after he presented.

It was a typical night when John was around.

Sam was sitting at the kitchen table finishing up some calculus homework. At the same time, John, sprawled on a couch, hovering between drunk and passed-out drunk, started talking about his mother.

Mary used to say three-year-old Dean was a handful, and now about to whelp again; it was too much for an Alpha herself to handle not having the instincts. She insisted John procure a House O to wet nurse the new pup because after extending the nursing of Dean, she wasn’t willing to do that again. John told her they couldn’t afford one, and Mary retorted if they had one, they could hatefuck their anger out on the O instead of John leaving. 

Sams revolted learning that the mother he never knew, one his brother practically worshiped, had wanted to purchase a House O to raise her litter and use them as a fuckslave to keep her mate happy and at home. When John started drunkenly lauding the pleasurable attributes of an Omegas natural slick pussy versus female Alphas, Sam grabbed Dean's CD player, pumped up the volume, and pretended to be working until John eventually passed out.

Shoving the books into his backpack, Sam retreated to their shared bedroom and retrieved the cobbled-together black-market laptop Dean secretly got him. Firing it up, he began researching the history of Omegas, the Hibbins Procurement Act, eventually going down the rabbit hole, finding blogs about how the effort to repopulate Omegas became perverted over the decades and obscure provisions secretly added during extension reviews that the government schools omitted felt his meager dinner about to reappear and bolted for the toilet.

Dean came rolling later, finding the laptop open on the bed, and immediately started worrying. His brother never left it out when their dad was around, followed the scent of sickness to find Sam lying on the bath floor, looking like he’d picked up an illness. Dean cleans him up, then tucks Sam into bed, diligently watching over him the rest of the night.

Surveying the area for hidden trouble, Sam catches an irresistible scent. His inner wolf hurls itself frantically against its cage of skin and bone, growling home home home in his mind. Flicking an eye towards his Alpha, whom Helms had distracted by another O. Without a second thought, Sam follows the wolf’s instincts, slowly backs towards the door left ajar, and slips through unnoticed.

Part III

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24  @flamencodiva    @lassie-bird @nancymcl   @spnbaby-67   @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @ilovetaquitosmmmm

[bonefall]

...Something's kinda hitting me, guys. I think something just clicked.

So we all know that BB!DOTC is the arc I'm not staying faithful to, right? A lot of characters are getting total overhauls? I'd actually been dancing pretty heavily around the pro-colonialism themes in the original text, simply because I don't really feel comfortable handling them (same with certain sexual themes, it's not great for my mental health to force myself to engage with certain elements that are triggering)

So I'd made it so there was Park Cats (Wind Coalition and River Kingdom) who arrived relatively recently, and Tribe Cats (Sky's Clan, Shadow's Clan) who nestle into an unclaimed spot in the forest. All groups roughly equal in power until Thunder's Clan which was existing in defiance.

But Clanmew isn't JUST comprised of Parkmew and Tribemew-- there's a third contributor. Old Townmew, which mixes with Parkmew and forms Middle Townmew, mixing again with Clanmew to create Modern Townmew.

Since I'm now really thinking about the colonialism themes, especially in my re-read where it starts reaching its narrative conclusion in Books 5 and 6... I think I need to add that 3rd cultural group. I need to make them a player. I think I'm doing a serious disservice by only having the Park Cats, Tribe Cats, and then saying all others mostly lived in the town.

I'm gonna do a BB!Brokenstar with Slash. Previously I'd just cut him completely-- but I think I should, instead, walk him back from being "Pure Evil" like he is in-canon and make him into a real character.

One Eye's a god drawn to the festering stink and rot of the First Battle; Slash is a mortal, leading a group like any other in the Forest Territories.

I think I'm also going to significantly bump up the time the Park Cats have been in this territory. Slash and his cats have been fighting them for years, and until the Mountain Cat influx, were basically spread through most of the Forest.

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 13: satan, lucifer / sick

ao3 link

note: i don't have much to say i just think this one's real cute! takes place post-jtta ^^

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

…something’s not right.

I open my eyes groggily. I find myself staring at a ceiling that - albeit familiar - should not be there.

“Ah.” Something yellow pops into the corner of my field of vision. “How’re you feeling?”

“Bad,” I mumble hoarsely, forcing down a cough and cursing my stuffy nose. “What’re you doing here?”

“What’re you doing here, you mean.” Satan passes me a glass of water with an encouraging smile. “Lucifer brought you down a few hours ago.”

That’d explain the ceiling. I've woken up in the House of Lamentation, which is definitely not where I went to sleep. I’d be happy if I had the energy.

“Your dad called.” Satan nudges me until I take a sip from the glass. “Said we’d better take care of you while he was still down.”

He presses the back of his hand to my forehead, then hums a little worriedly. “...your fever hasn’t gone down at all. Your dad gave Lucifer some medicine. I’ll go get him - don’t move, okay? Back in a second.”

It’s not the worst cold I’ve ever had, at least, I decide as he hurries out. But definitely not the best, eitherI hadn’t expected it to get this bad so quickly - colds always hit Dad harder than me, so I thought I’d gotten away with a tickly throat.

It’s so warm in here. I kick off most of the covers, then immediately regret it as a chill passes over me. The duvet’s landed in a heap on the ground.

“What have you done now?” sighs someone from the doorway.

I blink at Lucifer, then hurriedly attempt to fix things, as if he hasn’t already seen it. As soon as I sit up and attempt to reach over the mattress, though, the entire world tips sideways, and—

“That’s enough.” Lucifer’s by the bed in about half a second. “You need to be resting.”

He very pointedly sets me back in place, then stoops to drag up the blankets as well. I grumble something indistinct and allow him to tuck the corners in, even though I’m already starting to overheat again.

“I’m not convinced your dad gave us the right thing,” mutters Satan, trailing behind with a brown bottle in hand. “IK, take a look.”

I squint at it. Hydrogen peroxide. Must’ve gotten it mixed up with the Calpol.

“...well, I can manage without,” I mumble, waving the bottle away. “Just have to wait it out.”

“I’ve had Solomon on the phone,” says Lucifer, watching me carefully. “Mostly unhelpful. He’s suggested vinegar and onion.”

When was the last time he got sick? The Middle Ages?? I scrunch my face in response, too tired to come up with a verbal one.

“I didn’t think so.” He brushes some hair out of my eyes, then holds my face still and peers intently at me. “...we’ll manage. What would you like for lunch?”

“Nothing,” I mumble, pressing my cheek closer to his hand. It feels nice and cool. “Mrgh. Feels like my head’s full of bees.”

He thinks for a moment. “...some fresh air might help. Satan can take you around the garden.”

“It’ll be chilly,” says Satan a little anxiously. “I don’t want to make it worse.”

Lucifer lets me use his hand as a pseudo ice pack for another few seconds, then gives my cheek an unusually affectionate rub and stands up again. At the same time, he shrugs off his jacket.

“You can use this,” He says, handing it to Satan, and sweeps back out the door. “I’ll make some tea. Don’t take too long.”

Satan pulls a face at his back. Then he turns to me with a much gentler expression. “Alright, how are we feeling? Are you up for a walk?”

“Dunno.” I prop myself a little further up, then press my eyes shut as the room flashes in and out of focus. “...give me a sec…”

Satan’s already crossed the room when I open my eyes again. Without a word, he wraps Lucifer’s coat around me like a cocoon, tying the sleeves to fasten it, then picks me up like an unwieldy parcel.

“...thanks.” The more I speak, the more I realise how bad I sound.

Satan chuckles and presses a quick kiss to the side of my head, then starts moving. I don’t know if he’s going extra slow because it’s harder to manoeuvre with me in his arms, or if he’s noticed how much everything makes my head spin, but the rocking is more soothing than it is dizzying.

It feels like my head’s about to pop. That’s kind of overpowering everything else right now. Though it’s all still just as miserable. Ugh.

“Everyone else’s at school,” Satan says as he walks steady circles around the garden. “Your dad called early this morning, but Lucifer thought it’d be better if they left the house quiet. I’m pretty sure Mammon clocked him, but…”

The sound of his shoes clicking against the brick path is like a metronome. I follow the rhythm with my breathing, trying to ignore the congestion. “What about you?”

“I overheard him on the phone, so I bothered him until he let me stay as well.” He pauses. “...we’ll go back inside in a bit. You’re not cold, right?”

I murmur a no, gazing around at the hedges for a moment, then dropping my head back onto his shoulder when my neck gets tired. Lucifer’s coat smells a little like that woody incense Dad puts out when we have guests over.

“Well, you’re in no condition to go to school, so you can just stay with us until you’re completely better,” He says, partly to himself. “Lucifer can’t say no to that.”

My head does feel less fuzzy when Satan heads back inside. Instead of taking me back to my room, though, he heads to the library.

“The fire’s going,” He says, transferring me to one arm and using the other to select a book. “I’ll read to you until you’re sleepy again. How does that sound?”

“Nice,” I mumble, managing a little smile when he tilts his head down to look at me. His eyes are warmer than the fireplace.

Lucifer joins us just as Satan is starting on the first chapter. He doesn’t interrupt - he sets a tray on the table, then picks up one of the three mugs and sits down on my other side.

He listens, blowing idly on the tea, then hands it to me once he’s deemed it safe. He waits for Satan to finish the chapter to speak up.

“Feeling any better?” He asks, touching a hand to my forehead. He isn’t wearing his gloves today. “...hmm.”

“It hasn’t been that long. I’ve read that humans run warmer, anyway…” Satan lowers the book and glances at the tray. “Is that one mine?”

“You need to actually eat as well,” Lucifer says as Satan clicks his fingers and floats his own tea over. “I’ve asked Barbatos to drop something off. Is there anything else you’d like?”

The prospect of forcing anything really solid down already makes my throat hurt. “Not hungry.”

He sighs. “I know, but it’s important. How about some soup? Could you manage that for me?”

I resist the urge to simply turn away in protest. My head’s clearer, but it feels like I’ve gotten grumpier because of it, now that I can register everything else that sucks in higher definition…

“...maybe later,” Lucifer decides, almost unnervingly patient, and taps my mug. “At least drink your tea.”

It tastes sweeter than usual. I wonder if he added honey.

Satan starts on the next chapter. He keeps his voice low and even, but affects a funny voice for the dialogue - especially when it’s punctuated by French, which I’m not entirely sure he knows how to read. Lucifer stays through it all, tapping a foot silently on the carpet and adjusting my mug for me every time it starts slipping out of my grasp.

Some way through chapter four, the doorbell goes, and Lucifer quietly excuses himself to answer it. Satan stops reading without being asked, marking his place with a thumb, then glances down and asks softly if I’m feeling much better.

I hum an affirmative. As long as I don’t move too much, and as long as I don’t try supporting too much of my own weight, I can just about stay comfortable.

I hear Barbatos’s voice from down the hall, but it isn’t long before the front door closes again, and Lucifer returns alone. He resumes his spot on the sofa, then opens the paper bag that he’s come back with.

Satan carries on from where he left off. I glance up at Lucifer to see if he noticed him waiting. Sure enough, there’s a particular twinkle in his eye.

I don’t get to contemplate that for long, though, because then he pulls a pastry from the bag, and very determinedly holds it in front of my face until I take a bite - it’s soft and fluffy, and tastes of ginger.

Then he pats me on the head, as if to say ‘well done’. He doesn’t try pushing me any more than that, but I don’t doubt things’ll change later. Lucifer gets antsy whenever any of us miss a meal.

As Satan reaches the end of the first act, I start wondering how long it’ll be until everyone else gets back. I can’t decide if I’m excited to see them, or if I’m just anticipating the inevitable increase in noisiness.

“...‘Is the murder the work of some rival gang whom Cassetti had double-crossed in the past, or…?’”

Something brushes over my hair. I glance up at Lucifer. He keeps gazing ahead, eyes barely open - looking closer to sleep than I am. In fact, the only indication that he’s still awake is the hand on my head.

“...they left the compartment.” Satan finishes, then clears his throat and drains the rest of his probably-cold-by-now tea.

There’s quiet for a while. Lucifer flicks his wrist, and the sputtering fireplace roars back to life.

Eyes still closed, he says, “Don’t stop there. We don’t know who did it yet.”

“Sure, if you want me to rip my throat to shreds,” Satan scoffs, then holds the book over my head. “You do it, if you want to know so badly.”

Lucifer sighs, but opens his eyes and does as he says. Flicking to the right page - Satan’s deliberately shut the book without marking it - he starts reading aloud from where he left off, at the beginning of the second act.

Satan swings one leg over the other and leans over so that he can vaguely see the page, and nitpick whenever Lucifer misses or misreads a word. If I lean back a little, I can set my head on his chest.

Every now and then, he cranes his neck down to peer at my face. I’m past caring, but part of me wants to tell him that, if I wasn’t already sleepy, he’d definitely put me off with the constant checks.

I am, though, which means that Satan quickly notes the look on my face with apparent victory. He leans down a little further and whispers, “I’ll tell you what happens later. Get some more sleep, okay?”

Lucifer keeps reading (I note that he isn’t doing Satan’s funny voices), but almost imperceptibly nods his head. I haven’t said anything in a while, and I have a feeling it’ll hurt if I start again now, so I just nod as well.

I’m not used to being passive in the House of Lamentation. It’s hard to sit around and let everything happen around you when it’s all so much fun - I don’t know how Belphie does it.

I feel a little spoiled. But it feels really nice, too.

I close my eyes and let it all wash over me. Hopefully I’ll feel better when I wake up, and we can all spend some time together - it’s been a while since I’ve been able to visit. That’d make it even better.

[blue-sadie]

A Wanted Criminal

Anakin x Criminal Reader

Prt 1. Prt 2

Summary: he knew you did this for attention so he gives it to you everytime he catches you Warning: plot twist

Yn/3rd person pov

The rush of adrenaline ran through my vains as I ran from the storm troopers jumping over poor citizens roofs parkouring over the streets not listening to their shouts of threats.

I stopped at the edge of the roof i was standing on and turned to them "I'd like to see you try" I leaned backwards giving them the middle finger as I fell.

Their scream of terror made me laugh as I landed on a tented roof "hey" the shop keeper yelled but shut up as I threw him a shack of gold as I slipped off the roof onto the ground.

He mumbled a thanks as I put on my hood to blend into the crowd, I weaved myself through the groups of people keeping an eye out for any troopers.

"Can you see her" I slipped into an allyway and pressed myself up against a wall as I caught sight of a group coming towards me "negative let's check that way" I sighed in relief as they walked away.

I walked further into the dark allyway and climbed over a broken fence and peered around me to make sure no one was looking before entering the old factory I called my home.

I shut the creeking down and sighed in relief as I layed down my bag I closed my eyes and massaged my shoulders and moved in auto pilot to my kitchen.

I bit my lip feeling his presence in my living room area "I missed you in the chase today" I murmured grabbing a water from my small fridge.

He laughed and threw something at me, I tried dodging it but one side of the handcuffs attached to my while the other attached to an exposed pipe.

I huffed pulling at it before turning to him "I never knew you were this kinky" I murmured making him chuckle and shake his head as he walks closer.

"And what if I am" he murmured as he bit his lip his piercing eyes staring into mine, I smiled at him and tilted my head up to look at him as he was only a foot away from me.

"Then maybe I would've gotten into something more comfortable" I whispered teasingly making him groan we had been seeing eachother behind the jedi councils back it was like a game, I escaped from the troopers and other jedis sent after me but I could never escape him he knows me to well.

"Well we can always do that right now" he growled before moving his lips to mine as his hands settled themselves on my hips, "fuck I missed you" he muttered against my lips as he moved me to the wall.

"I did to" I whined he quickly moved his lips to my neck as he started to take off both of our clothing intill we were naked.

"Hmm I see my marks are fading" he murmured as he pulled back to gaze at my body, his eyes lingering on my hips where you could faintly see the outline of his hands from the last time we were together.

He was quick to move one of his hands to ran his fingers up and down my slit he smirked and showed me his glossed fingers from my wetness "someone's craving me" he murmured.

He again pressed his body back up against me this time i gasped feeling his bare cock against my body "its not like you haven't seen it before" he teased making me roll my eyes.

"Shut up" I murmured making him laugh "that could be arranged" he said before swiftly pushing himself inside I gasped at the sudden fullness my free hand moving to hold his shoulder to keep myself balanced.

"Fuck" he muttered and slowly started to pump himself in and out, his hands gripped my hips tightly as he began using it to move me with his thrusts.

"Ani" I moaned as he started increasing in speed, his only response was quite grunts and large releases off breath as he focused on fucking me.

He muttered quietly to myself as he moved one of his hands up to my cuffed hand and released me and before I could speak he picked me up forcing me to wrap my legs around his waist as he continued to fuck me as he moved us to my old couch.

"Yn" he groaned as he layed me down on the couch and use the angle to push himself inside me further, a squeal left my lips as he began hitting that one spot.

"A-ani fuck" I moaned as I felt myself start to clench around him making him groan out "i-im gonna" I cried out inside pleasure before I could finish my sentence.

He cursed loudly as he did his final thrusts before releasing inside me his seed coating my insides "fuck" he panted and layed gently on top of me keeping his cock inside "I love you yn" was the last thing I heard before I drifted to sleep.

The next morning I woke up someone tagging at me and when I woke up I saw troopers cuffing me and when I saw anakin obi was standing beside him and the words he said shattered my heart.

"Good work anakin you may become a jedi knight after all"

Tag.List

@sweetirilly

@neteyamyawne

@greekgods15

[beyondbinaries]

I'm posting this a bit early in case the 12th isn't a good mental health day. And I'm sorry if the random tag is annoying or if this post takes up too much space on dash.

On Oct 12 2016, I made a coincedental decision that has changed my life as a whole. A choice that has led me to so much pain but also so many happy memories and irreplcable friends. I made my pfp on Quotev a Genis Sage picture and somehow ended up involved in a Symphonia rp group 💕.

I had loved Genis as a character since I was a child watching my sister play at my Nanny's (my cousin would always delete her save before we even reached triet) and when we got a copy of the game when I was around 11/12 I had him on my team for the most part. It was my fascination with half elves and the mysterious Kharlan War Era that led to the creation of Mana, Oracle, Lee, 3rd, and Sunny. But those were all just childish writing in a notebook I hid from the world. Im sure lil me would die on the spot to hear that they are charas so many people know. I always knew that I loved to write but it was for charas like Sherlotta who were niche and not from a series as big as Tales so I never wrote Genis. Well until that day, I was too awkward to tell them I wasnt an rp blog and fully committed to it.

And look where that has led me. Here to you all. This journey may have been long and filled with things I'd never wish on anyone but I'm happy. So many of you have encouraged me and been there for me. I love and appreciate you all. Under the cut imma try to have things for a lot of you all word wise as gratitude. But thank you all so much, there are no amount of words or tangible sentences to express how much you all mean to me. And a happy birthday to my Genis interp who I wish i still wrote

@pyonpyonpyon ; Yuki youve been around since I started on here and damn time sure does fly. Thank you for always sticking around and plotting some of the most insane relations w/ me (Moe and Yuuri family) and dealing with tye silly kyubey meming I did back in 2017 (its been that long)

@mermaus ; sobs you know how much i lov and appreciate you but I will reiterate here... Lena you have stood by me for so much, have made my day so many times, etc. You are one of the most talented people on this website and in general? You are funny, kind, brave, strong, amazing. Im forever thankful to have met you and to be in your life. I am so eagerly awaiting the day we can meet and I can hug you irl.

@strebcr ; Pineapple !!! I am so so glad to have reconected with you! You are truly an amazing person and i am forever blessed to be considered your friend.

@in-sum ; Puyo !! Sobs I am so glad we were able to reconnect again, you are an amazing friend and you are always there for me. Youve stood in my corner when I was going through some of my worst times and I am forever grateful. You are talented and kindhearted and you stand up for what you believe is right.

@malusrecord / @constellationcrowned ; Kala!!!!!! It goes without saying how amazing of a writer and person you are. You bring so much life to your characters and it truly shows. I always find myself reading and rereading your posts when I am active on dash. You deserve all the good things in the world. And thank you so much for being my fren, I will always enjoy our dms and learning more about series i never thought I'd enjoy.

@ervaurem ; Shai!! I appreciate ypu so heckin much, you are such a kind and thoughtful person. I adore your presence on my dash and i adore the bonds between our characters. You've been there for me for such a long time now and I cant ever thank you enough..

@ofstarsandskies , @mathcs , @altosk , @cataclysmus , @talesofourworlds , and @broadswordandpistol ; a big catch all for all the wonderful people I met during festitales, despite how rough i am forever thankful for the oppurtunity I was given to force others into my point and click dm style of adventure. I have so much I cam say to each n every one of you 🥺

@solivcgant ; Mochi Mochi!! I am so sorry for the crimes Mana has committed against food and Eiji's mental health (eggbear eggs painge). I enjoy your presence and dog memes so much. You are so cool amd amazing aaa.

@twinklesofhope ; Ringo!! You are so talented and seeing you around makes me so happy.

@canidgrit / @nickitsden ; Fox!!! Hi we don't write together often but you are such a joy to see on my dash.

@biisutoarm ; Red!!! Hewwo hewwo, i love your Elfman so much he is such a treat and seeing him on dash always brightens my day. You are such a talented writer !

@osovereign ; Rinni! Hi hello, you are such an amazing and wonderful person. I have a lot of fun dming and writing with you. Its so nice to write with you again (I found a draft from like Jan 2017 on an old blog for you and i had to stop and stare at it lol--). I appreciate you so much and I hope to keep expanding Kratos' collection of poor Mana art.

@ednaeflowers ; Jenny!! Hi!! I know we aren't all that close or anything but you are such a delight to see on my dash. The Eizen and Edna thread we have is near and dear to my heart. I also really appreciate Mana and Edna's little friendship thing. I just really love your Edna interp 🥺, you are so talented and I appreciate you.

And to anyone else who read this far down, I love and appreciate you so much. Even if we don't speak or really write together. I genuinely believe each and every person I follow are talented individuals.

[satanahecallsme]

Blade/reader fan fic

Note 1: don't expect good quality, wrote this mostly for myself. Note 2: self indulgent, written in first person because I genuinely couldn't formulate it in third person (I tried and failed, only the first paragraph is in 3rd person). A little bit of comfort??? I can't tell.

Amount of words: a lot, may contain misspellings or typos I didn't notice.

Background for the story, just so it can make more sense: reader and Blade aren't on very good terms but previously had many✨romantic✨ encounters. Also, reader is a little bit jealous on Kafka but knows it's just an insecurity which is why it's not mentioned a lot.

About me here (might be useful)

Many years have passed and you still haven't changed in better. You're still the same cheap copy of a human that's not healed or hasn't done anything to get better. How do you define being better? What is better? What is normal?

Sitting in the bed, laying down, I think of who I am and I don't have the answer. For how long haven't I slept? Or eaten properly? Am I hungry or I'm craving…? No. I can't have that. Being desired doesn't mean that I'm loved. Yet I'm not even desired, I'm just a plan B. But by continuing to walk through this thought I will dive deeper into my misery.

There's someone behind my door, standing there. They'll leave. The door should be locked, unless it's him. We exchanged keys just to make it easier when leaving, I was scared that someone will get into my place if the door wasn't locked all the time, which is why I was scared that it could be him that was behind my door right now.

I don't want him near me. He'll tell me to get up, that this should be my last problem, unfortunately I failed and this became my biggest problem, that there's no reason to stay miserable. Only metaphorically, somehow I found comfort in washing my body. No matter how much I wanted to be shown love… I didn't want him to see me like this. I didn't want to give him another occasion to bring me down to another kind of misery. I didn't deserve to be lov-… . I had to run away from them, I will tell only Elio why I will leave, I'll hurt the others if I keep staying.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I look directly in the direction of the hand and see Blade.

Was I angry that he was there? Disappointed in myself for not pushing through my problems, for not being strong enough? He shouldn't see me like this.

His hand moved to my face and I moved my head back a little, until I had no choice but to let him put his palm on my cheek. I closed my eyes. I didn't know to tell him to leave. Now both of his hands were on my face, pushing me towards him. The mattress moved a little and I knew he sat on the bed.

Slowly, gently, he grabbed me and put me on his thighs, holding me up. “Why are you here?” I whisper as I let my head rest on his shoulder.

“You disappeared.” He said.

His left hand went to my head, through my hair. He leaned his head down to look at me. “When was the last time you changed your pillowcase?” He stayed like that for a few more seconds before speaking again. “I'll change them.”

He let me down on the bed before walking to one of the drawers I had in my room. He looked in it and got whatever he wished for, then changed the pillowcases. He went back to me, this time forcing me to get up and walk to the bathroom. Moving my hair from my face the best he could, he tried to wash my face. “You can't bring a dirty face to a clean pillowcase.” He whispered.

Well, he tried to wash my face, all I let him do was put my akin care products on my face. “How do you know-” I started to ask.

“I watched you do this.”

“How sweet of you.” My sarcasm was easy to notice. But I still didn't understand why he cared about me right now. He didn't care about me in general. No matter how much I tried to make myself likeable to him so he wouldn't shove remarks and unasked opinions at me.

“What do you want to eat?”

“I'm not hungry.”

“I can tell you're starving.”

“Your flesh is sufficient.” I

To my surprise, he pushes up his sleeve and moves his arm up for me to feast on. “I was joking.” I say, almost disgusted.

“Didn't you say my blood is good?”

“I didn't mean to-” I start to explain.

“Go on. You know-” He interrupted me.

“Same. You forgot that.”

“Starvation isn't the answer.” he murmured.

"I know that.” I looked at his hand. Fairly enough, it was a good looking arm, but not worth destroying. I walked past him and went to my kitchen to look in my cupboards and fridge. He followed me.

“Come with me. You have nothing in here. I'll cook for you something.” he spoke in my ear as he held me in a hug from behind.

“Don't bother.” I whisper. I didn't want his pity or help, I knew he wanted me to be in a good mental a d physical state just to fuck me. “I won't give you what you want.” I whisper.

He didn't move. “Let me help you for once, at least.”

“Don't waste your time.” Fuck with her, you don't hate her.

I felt how he shook his head before kissing my temple. “I missed you.”

“You missed my body.” I almost screamed.

“I missed YOU.” he didn't scream, only accentuated the word. “I realised that I was horrible to you, for no reason.” he hugged me tighter. “Let me prove that you deserve love and care. I might be late, but let me take care of you before you think of leaving.”

“Y'all don't need me.” I whisper to myself. I wasn't important in any script, so why shouldn't I leave?

“We do, I do. Let me do this, please.”

[gaybatmanenthusiast]

LOYALTY DIVIDED (oneshot)

(DRACO MALFOY X MALE READER)

⋆★ word count : 475

⋆★ warnings : angst

⋆★ summary : you’re on opposing sides of the battle of Hogwarts..!!!

⋆★ extra : been rotting in my drafts for a hot minute! 3rd person pov, i’m starting to like it a lottt

In the midst of the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy and a (M/N) a brave (HOUSE) found themselves on opposing sides of the conflict. Tension filled the air as spells clashed and the grounds shook with the echoes of destruction.

Amidst the chaos, the two spotted each other across the battlefield. Recognition flickered in their eyes, but their duty to their respective sides held them captive. (M/N), driven by his unwavering loyalty toward Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix, gritted his teeth and prepared to fight against the Slytherin, whose allegiance lay with the Dark Lord.

As they cautiously approached one another on the battleground, wands at the ready, (M/N)‘s hand hesitated for a moment. He couldn't help but be curious about Draco's motives, wondering why he had chosen to align himself with the dark forces they were now fighting against.

"Draco," he called out, his voice filled with determination and a tinge of sadness. "Why are you fighting on the side of darkness? I thought you were better than this..!"

Draco's gaze met his, and his stormy gray eyes softened ever so slightly. For a moment, the chaos around them seemed to fade into the background. Draco knew he had to give an answer, even if it meant confronting his own doubts and fears.

"I never wanted any of this," Draco replied, his voice barely audible above the clamor of the battle. "I was born into a family that embraced a twisted ideology, and my fear and desperation drove me to make choices I now regret (M/N)."

(M/N) couldn't help but hear the vulnerability in Draco's words. He began to piece together the internal struggle he must have faced, trapped between his family's expectations and his own conscience.

"I became tangled in a web of darkness and deceit," Draco continued, voice tinged with remorse. "But deep down, I knew it was wrong. I've seen the casualties, the innocent lives lost. It's why I've been trying to find a way to redeem myself, even if it means going against everything I was raised to believe in." Draco’s eyes met the floor.

(M/N)’s grip on his wand weakened as he listened to Draco's confession. He saw his struggle mirrored in their own battle against prejudice and injustice. Despite the differences that once seemed insurmountable, they now saw a shared determination to make things right.

In that moment, (M/N) made a choice. He lowered his weapon, silently urging Draco to do the same. Slowly, hesitantly, he complied. And in that surrender, a bond formed between them, stronger than any of the forces that had divided them before.

Then (M/N)‘s small hopeful smile dropped as Draco raised his wand again, pointing it with force at him. The last words he heard before everything went black was “Avada Kedavra!” coming from the voice he had grown to trust.

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

October 3rd

GOODNESS GRACIOUS I knew the horrors were coming but my feeble soul was not prepared for this level of violence. I may need a little bit of brandy myself, but all I have is coffee. Oh well.

"He came up to the window in the mist, as I had seen him often before; but he was solid then—not a ghost, and his eyes were fierce like a man's when angry. He was laughing with his red mouth; the sharp white teeth glinted in the moonlight when he turned to look back over the belt of trees, to where the dogs were barking. I wouldn't ask him to come in at first, though I knew he wanted to—just as he had wanted all along. Then he began promising me things—not in words but by doing them." He was interrupted by a word from the Professor:—

"How?"

"By making them happen; just as he used to send in the flies when the sun was shining. Great big fat ones with steel and sapphire on their wings; and big moths, in the night, with skull and cross-bones on their backs."

OF COURSE I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN

"So when He came to-night I was ready for Him. I saw the mist stealing in, and I grabbed it tight. I had heard that madmen have unnatural strength; and as I knew I was a madman—at times anyhow—I resolved to use my power."

🥺

With his left hand [Dracula] held both Mrs. Harker's hands, keeping them away with her arms at full tension; his right hand gripped her by the back of the neck, forcing her face down on his bosom. Her white nightdress was smeared with blood, and a thin stream trickled down the man's bare breast which was shown by his torn-open dress. The attitude of the two had a terrible resemblance to a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink.

K I L L H I M

She shuddered and was silent, holding down her head on her husband's breast. When she raised it, his white night-robe was stained with blood where her lips had touched, and where the thin open wound in her neck had sent forth drops. The instant she saw it she drew back, with a low wail, and whispered, amidst choking sobs:—

"Unclean, unclean! I must touch him or kiss him no more. Oh, that it should be that it is I who am now his worst enemy, and whom he may have most cause to fear." To this he spoke out resolutely:—

"Nonsense, Mina. It is a shame to me to hear such a word. I would not hear it of you; and I shall not hear it from you. May God judge me by my deserts, and punish me with more bitter suffering than even this hour, if by any act or will of mine anything ever come between us!"

They’re everything your honour 🥺❤️

"He had been there, and though it could only have been for a few seconds, he made rare hay of the place. All the manuscript had been burned, and the blue flames were flickering amongst the white ashes; the cylinders of your phonograph too were thrown on the fire, and the wax had helped the flames." Here I interrupted. "Thank God there is the other copy in the safe!"

THANK GOD FOR MINA

I turned to wake Jonathan, but found that he slept so soundly that it seemed as if it was he who had taken the sleeping draught, and not I. I tried, but I could not wake him.

The Dracula Loop™ never lies

'First, a little refreshment to reward my exertions. You may as well be quiet; it is not the first time, or the second, that your veins have appeased my thirst!'

A little refreshment??? FUCK YOU

You have aided in thwarting me; now you shall come to my call. When my brain says "Come!" to you, you shall cross land or sea to do my bidding; and to that end this!

It keeps getting worse where is my goddamned brandy

Jonathan’s journal starts exactly as happily as expected:

As I must do something or go mad, I write this diary.

And continues just as merrily:

As it was, he thought that on the attendant's evidence he could give a certificate of death by misadventure in falling from bed. In case the coroner should demand it, there would be a formal inquest, necessarily to the same result.

H O W

When the question began to be discussed as to what should be our next step, the very first thing we decided was that Mina should be in full confidence; that nothing of any sort—no matter how painful—should be kept from her.

Better late than never

"I should get a respectable locksmith, and set him to work to pick the lock for me."

"And your police, they would interfere, would they not?"

"Oh, no! not if they knew the man was properly employed."

"Then," he looked at me as keenly as he spoke, "all that is in doubt is the conscience of the employer, and the belief of your policemen as to whether or no that employer has a good conscience or a bad one. Your police must indeed be zealous men and clever—oh, so clever!—in reading the heart, that they trouble themselves in such matter."

Van Helsing mocking the police is not what I expected from this entry, but I’ll take it.

"Look here, old fellow," said Morris, "it is a capital idea to have all ready in case we want to go horsebacking; but don't you think that one of your snappy carriages with its heraldic adornments in a byway of Walworth or Mile End would attract too much attention for our purposes? It seems to me that we ought to take cabs when we go south or east; and even leave them somewhere near the neighbourhood we are going to."

LOOK AT MY QUINCEY BEING SO SMART

"Do you forget," he said, with actually a smile, "that last night he banqueted heavily, and will sleep late?"

Look at Van Helsing being Van Helsing!

Now let me guard yourself. On your forehead I touch this piece of Sacred Wafer in the name of the Father, the Son, and——"

There was a fearful scream which almost froze our hearts to hear. As he had placed the Wafer on Mina's forehead, it had seared it—had burned into the flesh as though it had been a piece of white-hot metal. My poor darling's brain had told her the significance of the fact as quickly as her nerves received the pain of it; and the two so overwhelmed her that her overwrought nature had its voice in that dreadful scream. But the words to her thought came quickly; the echo of the scream had not ceased to ring on the air when there came the reaction, and she sank on her knees on the floor in an agony of abasement. Pulling her beautiful hair over her face, as the leper of old his mantle, she wailed out:—

"Unclean! Unclean! Even the Almighty shuns my polluted flesh! I must bear this mark of shame upon my forehead until the Judgment Day." They all paused. I had thrown myself beside her in an agony of helpless grief, and putting my arms around held her tight. For a few minutes our sorrowful hearts beat together, whilst the friends around us turned away their eyes that ran tears silently.

Has she not suffered enough?

There was hope in his words, and comfort; and they made for resignation. Mina and I both felt so, and simultaneously we each took one of the old man's hands and bent over and kissed it. Then without a word we all knelt down together, and, all holding hands, swore to be true to each other. We men pledged ourselves to raise the veil of sorrow from the head of her whom, each in his own way, we loved; and we prayed for help and guidance in the terrible task which lay before us.

I am once again wondering how anyone could come out of this book thinking that A. the Count is some sort of sexual liberator and B. these men are motivated by anything other than love and a (somewhat misguided, but again this was 1897) sense of chivalry

To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.

HELLO????

I have written this in the train.

My tired brain read this as “I have written this in the rain.” I am devastated.

BUT ALSO we’re back to Jonathan writing in the train… Dracula Loop™ on a wider scale… Doubly devastated…

Back to Seward…

Last night he was a frank, happy-looking man, with strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark brown hair. To-day he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair matches well with the hollow burning eyes and grief-written lines of his face.

To be loved and to love is to be changed…

His energy is still intact; in fact, he is like a living flame. This may yet be his salvation, for, if all go well, it will tide him over the despairing period; he will then, in a kind of way, wake again to the realities of life.

See? Resilience again! I am taking notes for this Feligami AU!

"Look out for D. He has just now, 12:45, come from Carfax hurriedly and hastened towards the South. He seems to be going the round and may want to see you: Mina."

Literally what would we do without Mina?

I could not but admire, even at such a moment, the way in which a dominant spirit asserted itself. In all our hunting parties and adventures in different parts of the world, Quincey Morris had always been the one to arrange the plan of action, and Arthur and I had been accustomed to obey him implicitly. Now, the old habit seemed to be renewed instinctively.

Literally what would we do without Quincey?

It was a pity that we had not some better organised plan of attack, for even at the moment I wondered what we were to do. I did not myself know whether our lethal weapons would avail us anything. Harker evidently meant to try the matter, for he had ready his great Kukri knife and made a fierce and sudden cut at him. The blow was a powerful one; only the diabolical quickness of the Count's leap back saved him. A second less and the trenchant blade had shorne through his heart. […] The expression of the Count's face was so hellish, that for a moment I feared for Harker, though I saw him throw the terrible knife aloft again for another stroke.

Oh Jonathan is pissed off

Her husband flung himself on his knees beside her, and putting his arms round her, hid his face in the folds of her dress.

Look at them… 😭

RIP Renfield you will be missed 😔❤️

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