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jo-harrington · 5 months ago

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Best Spring Break Ever (Eddie Munson)

Summary: Spring Break 1986, the way it should have gone.

Word Count: 3.2k

Characters: Eddie Munson, Corroded Coffin (Jeff, Gareth, Dave - Unnamed Freak), Dustin Henderson, Mike Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, Will Byers, Wayne Munson

Themes/Warnings: No Upside-Down AU, Road Trip, Lighthearted, Boys Will Be Boys in the purest way possible, Nerd, Pop Culture References, one or two sneaky little references to Store Manager Verse (I had to)

Note: So a LONG TIME AGO I dropped a fun head canon that got lost to the cutthroat nature of the tags. It's not necessarily coming back to life per se but and now that I've promised @br0ck-eddie and @somnambulic-thing that I would do more Gen fics, I'm sort of giving it some more juice.

Gonna also use this for @munson-blurbs and @corroded-hellfire and their Flip Flopped Summer Writing event. (I cheated on the length, sue me.)

Enjoy!

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

---

When one thought of words to describe Edward J. Munson, there were plenty to choose from.

Daring, dashing, brilliant, handsome--

"Douchebag," Gareth muttered under his breath.

"Can it, asshole," Eddie snapped from the driver's seat of the van, angling the rearview mirror so he could pin the younger boy with a scathing look. "Or I'll leave you behind."

"He's got a point though," Dave offered. The rearview mirror shifted again, revealing dark brown eyes that narrowed angrily.

"Sorry," Dave sunk in his seat.

--adventurous, non-conformist, a music legend...

But carpool mom had never been a contender.

Until now.

For Eddie, Spring Breaks were never exciting.

A lot of families in Hawkins took the days off school to go out of town. Vacation to someplace interesting or warm, trips up to the beach, or to a distant grandparent's house for a visit.

Eddie always stayed home. He enjoyed the silence of the town and the freedom to go anywhere and do anything he'd like. Wayne picked up some overtime while some of his coworkers were away, so there were a handful of extra hours for Eddie to play his music as loudly as he wanted, and some extra cash to splurge on a few nights of takeout.

This year was different though.

This year, Eddie had the misfortune of being friend, older brother figure, and role model to Dustin Henderson and his band of merry nerds.

The four of whom decided to enter into the All-State Science Fair in May with a project so ambitious and convoluted, they were either going to crash and burn, or get some kind of scholarship long before they needed to think of college.

And of course, when the time came to gather supplies for such an...extensive endeavor, the lowly freshman came to their good pal Eddie to help them procure some interesting items.

That was the thing with Eddie, though. He was sort of known for being the guy that could find things. Yeah, weed and other drugs from Reefer Rick, sure. But the phrases "I know a guy" and "I can try and cash in a favor" and "you owe me one" often passed through his lips, followed by a glint in his eye and a quirk of his lips.

For weeks he got the little idiots various items for their project, but when things on the list began to seem impossible to find--Rick had practically thrown him out when he had asked where to get liquid nitrogen--things started to get a little tricky.

Eddie, not one to let his friends down, complained about the whole ordeal to a friend he had unexpectedly made working at StarCourt over the past Summer--the Claire's store manager--and she had an interesting suggestion.

"Why don't you just go to the Science Surplus store in Chicago?" Eddie looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "What? Don't let the Cool Mall Girl facade fool you. I'd been known to dabble in science fairs and stuff when I was still in school."

"Nerd," he snorted before he waved for her to continue.

She told him about lab coats and machine parts and mystery boxes.

"It might be fun for you and your friends to drive up there and see it."

Thus, the Great Spring Break Roadtrip of '86 was born.

---

Well, more accurately, it was the Great Secret Spring Break Roadtrip of '86.

Because what parent--specifically Claudia Henderson--was going to let their kid spend a few days with no parental supervision? Where the only adult, technically, was Eddie.

She liked him, of course. Shit, most of the kids' parents liked him. But trust him to drive their kids hundreds of miles in a van that looked like it probably wasn't gonna make it 10 miles up the road?

That was another story.

But he was a schmoozer, a sweet-talker, a charmer, and in the end he got them all to agree to a few days up at the Dunes hiking and swimming and grilling hot dogs over an open fire.

If only the parents had been his harshest critics.

"When was the last time you had your brakes checked?"

"And your oil changed?"

"I heard some squeaking when you drove us home from Hellfire. I think there's something going on with your suspension."

"When did you become my pit crew?" Eddie snapped as he leaned against the front of the van and smoked the last cigarette he would have until they stopped for gas along the way.

Dustin, Mike, Will, and Lucas all froze in place. The older members of Hellfire Club leaned their heads out of the van to watch the interaction like the relentless busybodies that they were. Eddie flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground before approaching the kids with his hands on his hips.

"We just wanna make sure it's safe," Mike was the first to speak up.

"It's safe," Eddie insisted. "I checked everything myself; Wayne wouldn't let me cross state lines if I hadn't."

Mike considered it for a second, then jumped into the van.

Dustin hummed doubtfully and kicked at one of the rear tires.

"Do you have a spare tire?" he questioned. "Just in case?"

Eddie nodded and even offered how to show everyone how to change a tire if the need ever rose.

"Gotta earn your keep somehow."

He mashed his hand on the top of Dustin's head as he passed.

Lucas and Will were last; they had their backs to him, heads leant together as they whispered conspiratorially. Eddie wondered for a moment if they even wanted to go--it was ok if they were scared--until they pivoted on their heels and began a barrage of questions about handling and off-roading and how prepared he was for any emergencies.

He was about to snap at them, tell them to shut up, when he saw a rolled up copy of Car and Driver in Lucas' hand and his brief annoyance faded.

He took a deep breath and stared up into the clear blue sky, begging whatever gods or devils there were to give him the patience to survive this trip.

"Listen," he huffed, "you either trust me and we go, or you don't and we stay. Even if I didn't have a stocked first aid kit--which, I don't, by the way...best you're gonna get are some crumpled band-aids in my glove box--it's not like we have all the time in the world to put one together.

"I promise. Everything will be fine. You trust me right?"

Lucas and Will turned away from him and whispered furiously once more. Before they stood up straight, looked him dead in the eye, and asked something that made Eddie let out a bark of laughter,

"What about Second Breakfast?"

---

They stopped for gas an hour in.

What should have been a ten minute stop turned into an hour. Bathroom breaks all around and then debates over which snacks to get.

"Don't waste all your money," Eddie fussed over them, pulling bags of candies and chips from their hands and stuffing them back onto shelves. "You're not gonna eat it all for one thing. And I'm not gonna clean puke out of my van if you try and end up making yourselves sick."

Suddenly the four freshman were all talking over each other with "mom never lets me have funyuns" and "what if we get the smaller bag?" Jeff, Gareth, and Dave all snickered and watched from afar as Eddie taught them The Art of Gas Station Snacks.

By hour two, the radio stations became unfamiliar, Eddie's mix tapes got boring, and slug bug was impossible. That's when everyone began fighting over the road map to play navigator, even though Eddie insisted that it was Jeff's job, since he called shotgun. But no one cared, especially not when--

"Hey I know our cover is camping at the beach," Mike piped up from the back. "But we're actually going to pass the Dunes. Can we go?"

Some of the others started to agree, mentioning how their moms packed their swim trunks.

"Hey!" Eddie snapped at them and then reached back to jam a finger into the map. "We passed the exit already. Better luck next time."

"But how about on the way back?" Dave suggested. "It's getting too crowded in here. A little fresh air would be nice."

And Eddie would have fought them, the thing was...he kind of agreed with Dave.

The members of Corroded Coffin were used to just the four of them and their band equipment. Now there were seven of them, on top of all their backpacks and sleeping bags, Eddie's guitar, and a cooler full of snacks and drinks. There was too much noise, too much arguing. One absolutely rancid fart had been tooted without admittance, which led to everyone just ripping one without a care in the world.

On the other hand, did he really want to have to clean sand out of the van once this trip was over?

"Alright," he finally shouted over the others, causing them to quiet down. "If everyone behaves the rest of the way, we'll see about making a stop at the Dunes on the way back."

---

Their accommodations that first night were less than ideal.

Rick had mentioned something once about forest preserves and camp sites once when he'd driven up to Chicago to meet up with some fishing buddies. So Eddie figured renting a campsite would be fun, not to mention cheaper than a motel. They'd sleep under the stars, just like he'd promised all of their parents, grill some hot dogs and roast marshmallows for s'mores.

It would be great.

But building a campfire was harder than it looked--especially when you had six sets of eyes on you--the ground was hard to sleep on, and then at some point in the night, a storm rolled in and they all had to pile into the van to stay dry.

Chalk it up to Murphy's Law.

"Should have sprung for a cabin instead," Jeff joked as they all struggled to fit in the back of the van after they all sought shelter inside.

Come morning, they were all tired and sore and grumpy, and Eddie drove through McDonalds for steaming hot hash browns and egg mcmuffins to shut them all up.

Then they finally reached their true destination.

The American Science and Surplus Center was an unassuming building in a busy suburb north of the city. Busier than Hawkins, at least. Eddie had to drive around the block several times before he realized the entrance was in the back of the building, gravel parking lot and all.

As soon as they set foot inside, it was a sensory overload, but it felt like home.

Colorful signs everywhere, aisles filled with bins of bottles and beakers and corks and machine parts. There was a man who looked like he stepped out of Doctor Who by the cash register, and about a dozen lab skeletons situated around the perimeter of the store dressed to look like famous scientists.

All of the boys scattered once they picked their jaws up off the floor and they, quite literally, spent hours scouring the store finding one amazing thing after another.

Dave and Jeff went to the back corner where there was a display of army surplus. Garerth found an entire aisle dedicated to models and kits. Eddie walked around picking up things at random. Things that just seemed interesting and weird, his imagination putting different bits and bobs together to create mini figures for mechanical foes for the next--and maybe last--campaign he created as the DM for Hellfire.

It was a bittersweet moment for him.

And the kids? Well, they were either the worst customers in the world or the best. They were running around, throwing things into baskets, trying to figure out how much of this or that they needed for their project.

This was a once in a lifetime trip so they were determined to get everything they needed now.

Of course, that ended up causing a problem. Because there was only one of a certain item on their shopping list and Dustin wasn't the only person to grab it.

Eddie heard the commotion before he saw it.

"I need this."

"So do I."

"I touched it first."

"Well I saw it first. Finders keepers."

The other freshman were quick to jump into the verbal tousle, disrupting everyone in the store, and Eddie was quick to abandon his own shopping to go and see what was wrong.

Only to find the dweebiest tug of war on the planet: His four little sheepies versus three equally dorky-looking boys. It was a flurry of gangly limbs, sweaty hands, mom-provided haircuts, and pressed khakis as they argued over the one thing all of the kids seemed to need for their respective projects.

Eddie figured it was better to intervene before someone got a nosebleed from stress.

"Hey guys, cut it out, what are we arguing for?"

"Who's this?" the apparent leader of the other kids snapped. "The barber shop is down the street if you need a haircut Bon Jovi."

"Alright Revenge of the Nerds, calm down," Eddie snapped. "Just trying to make sure this doesn't end in a bloodbath. What's going on here?"

"We need that air pump," Dustin nodded down to the box he was holding onto for dear life.

"Well so do we. And we saw it first."

The kids started talking over each other again until Eddie whistled sharply.

"How about," he suggested and dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a shiny quarter, "we flip a coin?"

"No way!"

"No chance!"

"This air pump is ours," the rival nerd scoffed.

"What if we just beat you up and took it?" came a voice the next aisle over. Eddie glanced over his shoulder and shot daggers at his nosy friends.

"Not helping Jeff!" he hissed and turned back to the kids. "It's either a coin toss or nothing."

Eventually, both groups agreed, and Dustin was even gracious enough to let the other kids call it. Eddie flicked the coin into the air, the nerd called heads, and then time seemed to slow.

Eddie's thoughts raced through all of the possibilities. He really couldn't give a shit about these other nerds but...damn they deserved a fair shot at it. And his friends...he didn't want them to come all this way just for disappointment.

There was a clink as the coin hit the ground and bounced.

Then another clink.

Then a clatter as it landed.

Tails.

---

Another hour passed victoriously in the science surplus store and everyone's mood went up exponentially.

Eddie spent a little extra cash to get a soldering iron that he found in a clearance bin. Dustin and Lucas got to explain their whole project to the wannabe timelord, who was excited at the prospect of flash freezing ice cream. Not to mention Dave, who flirted with the evening manager as she came in for her shift; he even got her number, the lucky schmuck.

The sun was setting by the time they made it back outside, chattering happily about their finds, but they stopped in their tracks as they found the rival nerd standing near the van with a tall, polished boy in a letterman jacket beside him.

"This them?" the jock asked the younger boy.

"Yeah," he glared at them all and then pointed at Mike. "And that's the one who flipped me off."

Eddie could feel Mike tensing beside him--obviously regretting what he had done in the throes of victory--and he took a step forward, hands held in front of him to show he meant no harm.

"Hey guys listen," he started. "What are we doing here? What's fair is fair. We flipped a coin."

"My brother said it was rigged," the jock accused.

Eddie snorted, "how could I possibly rig a coin toss? Here I'll even show you the quarter."

The jock, curious, took a step forward, despite his brother whining for him to "just beat them up already."

Eddie shoved a hand in the pocket of his jacket and rooted around for a moment, before swiping his sneakered foot across the ground, sending gravel and sand and whatever else made up the parking lot into the two boys' faces.

"Go, go, get in the van," he hollered to his friends, who immediately crossed the lot and piled into the vehicle.

Once the doors were locked and the key was in the ignition, they all hollered in triumph, Gareth even yelling for Dave to "hit 'em with the pressed ham" as they pulled out of the parking lot.

And Eddie wondered if it was cowardly for them to have done what they did. For him to have done that.

He didn't want to be known as the guy who ran from trouble.

But hearing his friends' laughter, knowing their safety was ensured, he figured that sometimes running away was ok.

---

Dinner was reminiscent of something out of a heroic legend.

The IHOP off Route 64 had become a mead hall with drinks sloshing over the edges of cups and laughter and cheers in abundance as they regaled each other with more fantastical versions of the non-existent battle they'd just survived.

As though Eddie had been Beowulf and his foe the dastardly Grendel.

"He had to be 7 feet tall," Lucas awed. "And like...400 pounds."

"I'm never worrying about Jason Carver beating me up again if we survived that guy," Mike agreed.

"You're gonna have to fail again this year so you can stick around and protect us Ed. At least until I graduate," Gareth told Eddie, who protested that he didn't even do anything.

Then everyone erupted into a good-hearted merriment again.

Eddie felt a little bad for the waitress who would clean up after them, but he couldn't do anything to stop his friends joy and excitement.

Instead, he left a very generous tip once they left.

Their second night of camping was much more successful than the first. There were no attempts at a fire and no s'mores to be had, but Eddie broke out his guitar and strummed some familiar songs that had everyone asleep in no time.

Almost everyone.

He stayed up for a little longer though, smoking and staring up at the sky through the canopy of the trees. There was something special being out here, and he wondered if all of the heroes in his favorite stories felt like that, seeing all of their companions safe and asleep under their watch and the watch of the stars above.

There was a rustle of a sleeping bag and Dustin looked over at Eddie with bleary eyes.

"Why're you still up?" he asked. "Gotta take a dump or something?"

Eddie snorted and crushed the butt of his cigarette underfoot.

"Just thinking," he waved a hand dismissively. "Get back to sleep. Gotta drive back in the morning, and we need to hit the road early if you guys still wanna go to the beach."

He was about to take his own advice and settle into his sleeping bag when Dustin called his name again.

"Thank you."

"For what?"

"I dunno," there was another rustle as Dustin shrugged. "For driving us out here, for getting all of the stuff we've been asking you to get, for protecting us...for being our friend."

"Don't mention it Henderson," Eddie smiled warmly. "What else was I gonna do? Let you guys lose the science fair."

"It's more than that."

"I'm sure that Harrington would've helped you if I hadn't."

"Steve's a cool guy but seriously," Dustin insisted. "He wouldn't have done all of this for us."

Eddie didn't know how to answer that, so he just hummed and closed his eyes.

The last thing he heard before he fell asleep, to dreams of guitar solos and bats and epic adventures...

"Best Spring Break Ever."

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #flip flopped #summer writing event

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bigbadvoxbox · 8 months ago

Note

Would you be okay with doing a Adam x Fem reader? I need more possessive sex from Adam I can't help it

absolutely yes

warnings: nsfw. possessive sex. unprotected sex too, and he cums inside. we hate the drummer too.

- Adam loved his fangirls. He knew he fuckin rocked, but it was still so fuckin hot to hear them tell him that he rocked.

- You were his favourite fangirl in particular, always cheering him on, in your cute little homemade tees with his logo on.

- He hadn't yet had the chance to whisk you away backstage and show you something that he's even more skilled at than guitar. But he figured you'd wait for him, like the adoring little fangirl you are.

- That was, until he saw his band's drummer gettin all close n touchy with you at a meet n greet. Of course it was the fucking drummer, that fuckin dick. He couldn't help but feel a bit pissed. Of all the fans, he had to go and choose you? No! You were Adam's number one fan!

- That was when his brilliant, genius, amazing idea came to mind. He yanked a microphone from whoever the fuck, he didn't care,

"Announcement everyone! I have a fuckin' announcement to make so listen up! I'm gonna choose a toootally random person here today, and you get to spend the day with me! Fuckin' Adam!"

- It was not random at all.

- He immediately chose you.

- Fuck you drummer, whatever the fuck your name is.

- You were absolutely ecstatic. Sure the drummer was cool, but Adam? He was your dream guy. You found him so awesome, and jumped at the chance to spend some time with him.

- 'That's my girl. You fucking know who's best.' he couldn't help but think to himself.

- You spent the day at his place listening to him play guitar, and tell you allll about how awesome band life was, and just how awesome Adam was in general, to which you agreed.

- You briefly mentioned your encounter with the drummer, explaining how he had offered to take you out some time. Adam couldn't allow that, you were his girl!

- He needed to act fast.

- "Y'know Babe, I saw those cute little t-shirts you made for our last gig. I especially loved the ones with my logo on 'em." he started, before his voice quietened, "And I bet... if I were to take a little look under this jacket of yours... I'd see that tshirt, wouldn't I?" he asked, a knowing smirk on his face.

- Your face turned red with embarrassment. How did he know? You unzipped your jacket, showing off the homemade tee you wore, his logo proud and bold in the centre of your chest.

- "I fuckin' knew it." his grin was smug as fuck.

- He started off with a few light touches, grazing your thighs, moving upwards to your waist. "Y'know... you got a pretty nice pair on ya." he'd say, his eyes roaming over your chest for a moment.

- Before long, you had returned his gentle touches, which turned very quickly into a heated makeout session. You just couldn't resist him. (and I can't blame you)

- The kisses escalated into his hands groping at your chest while you clung to his shoulders.

- "You ready to have the best fuckin' night of your life?"

- As he got closer and touchier, he noticed a little bracelet around your wrist. A gift from the drummer in a pathetic attempt to convert you to a whatever-the-fuck-their-name-is-fangirl. He can feel his eye twitch slightly.

- "Let's just get this off." he says as he removes the bracelet. "You don't fuckin' need shit from that asshole. You got me, right?"

- When you both get to the main event, he is so fucking eager to touch you everywhere, get his hands on you and make you his, his girl.

- Hovers over you on the couch, not even knowing where to start. He needs you now.

- Soon enough, whatever pants or skirt you were wearing has been tossed across the room, underwear pulled to one side. But you're keeping that cute t-shirt of yours on. No fucking way is he missing out on fucking you while you wear that.

- He starts with his fingers, since he's gotta treat his pretty little fangirl right, doesn't he? Has you blushing and flustered and he thinks it's the cutest thing ever. He likes that only he will get to see that face.

- But once you're all prepared, his fingers now slick, he cannot wait to be inside you. And god his cock does not disappoint. He leans in, your foreheads almost pressed together. He loves the closeness, making that sweet blush spread across your face as he pushes his cock into you.

- That's when the fun starts, he starts off easy, since no doubt you're a cute little virgin who's been saving yourself for him. But while he starts off gentle and... almost romantic, that image of the drummer gettin too close with you flashes in his mind, and then his hips start to move faster.

- He's now grabbed you by the hips, moving your body in time with his thrusts, to push him even deeper, driving you absolutely wild. Your moans echo off the walls, and he revels in it.

- He can't help himself, and one hand slips under your homemade t-shirt to touch your tits again. What can he say? He loves a good pair of tits.

- The hickeys! My god, the hickeys. He leaves you covered. Everyone will know you are not up for grabs. He'll make sure of that. He's not quite used to feeling so possessive over someone, but you were special.

- It drives you crazy that he slows down, but his thrusts get deeper as he whispers filthy things into your ears. He has you twitching and panting beneath him, which in turn, drives him crazy.

- He then thinks of the perfect way to claim you as his.

- "You want my fucking cum?" he murmurs into your ear as you get closer and closer to cumming. You feel euphoric and dazed, nodding your head dumbly. He can't help but chuckle a little, proud at the state he's reduced you to.

- He makes sure all of it stays inside, keeping you plugged with his cock for a little bit, just letting you both stay in that position even after you've both came. You have another small makeout session as you both come down from it, and he just knows.

- You're always gonna be his girl.

#hazbin hotel #voxbox #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam #goddamn

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yujeong · 2 months ago

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Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)

#tw slur #vegaspete #pete saengtham #snippet #yu is writing #I started writing this today while waiting for my bus to arrive and wrote most of it on public transport <33 #(hopefully it doesn't show lol)#there's a lot of context missing here but basically: VP visit yaai and a wild father appears #I didn't have space to include her unfortunately but just imagine her in the background with a sad look on her face #which is mostly fixed on Vegas :))#for no reason at all :))#due to a certain someone who I won't name (😤) I mayyy turn this into a fic? Maybe?#because 1. I did have a similar idea a year or so ago but never did anything with it and 2. this concept NEEDS to be explored more come on #because in my mind Vegas and Pete can't go to yaai's house until/unless Pete's father leaves #all their stuff is in her house #and they only have Vegas' car with which they traveled there #and Bangkok is too far away to go back now in the middle of the night (yes this happens at night time)#so basically what I'm saying is: VP will spend their night in the car :)#I'm sure the combination of an agitated Pete and a tired Vegas who's also equating Pete with his father due to their external similarities #will be a delightful experience for them both #I'm vibrating out of my skin just thinking about it #can I promise I'll write it and put it out there? Hell no #can I still get excited by the prospect of it happening? Hell yes #sorry I'm rambling a little too much over here #I just haven't felt this good writing in MONTHS #thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it <3333

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broadwayfangirl222 · 11 months ago

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Spoilers for Hazbin Hotel Episodes and my thoughts/initial reactions:

Episode 1:

I adore the opening narration, it genuinely feels like a fairytale being told to a kid and I get the vibe Lilith and Lucifer were trying to help Eve by giving her the apple. And for people worried about her being Stella 2.0 It comes off more as Lilith taking over since Lucifer became low key depressed and while there might be issues between them it might be more communication issues than anything else

Husk's voice sounds a bit gruffer than it initially came off as in the trailers and I really like how it sounds

Angel brings up good suggestions of having a celebrity be a selling point for the hotel and why can't Alastor use his connections to bring more people to the hotel

and their answers (of Charlie not wanting to exploit him and people needing to choose to be there, not be forced to be there) were also really great points

I feel low key dumb for thinking Adam was actually there, he wouldn't bother to bring himself down to their level

Charlie's realization this asshole is her mom's ex is hilarious

Tbh I would've wanted to see more of them making the commercial but it was so much fun to see and I love how Alastor only agreed to put genuine effort in the commercial if he never had to do anything related to TV again

Niffty zoning out when the camera is on her just game me hypnotoad vibes (dumb and obvious comparison but that's where my mind went)

Wow...what the hell, they really are cutting the time in half just as a "fuck you" to Charlie and her idea?! Really harsh and just this whole thing works to show they're not so different than the demons

Is it just me or is there weird audio mixing issues with Brandon Rodgers' audio as Katie Killjoy?

Ohhh interesting the 6 months thing is cause an angel managed to be killed and it's a cover up! I'm genuinely curious where this goes

Episode 2:

Good point with this being something that could make people be willing to hear this idea of redemption out

Omg of course Niffty is into Pentious. Also interesting she didn't know who the V's were.

Vox in the trailer sounded like seth rogan to me but he sounds way more gameshow host to me

VELVETTE'S BRITISH?!?! Also kinda cool to see her being a bit more business focused and not just kinda high energy chaos

OMG! Finally we get to hear Valentino! It's kinda cool how his accent is partly there, like it's thicker when he talks in some parts than others. It's done in a way that's less the VA dropping the accent and more it being a deliberate thing for the character

For Vox and Val's relationship we got this idea of Val being the one in charge and mistreating Vox but Vox trying to calm Val down feels like him and Velvette just let Val think he's the one who's in charge of the V's while Vox is actually the one to plan stuff through

Fun little bit of Val poking fun at Vox's obsession with Alastor and I kinda like it's all of them kinda snapping at eachother and messing with one another

I've seen thumbnails for this song on youtube and i've been trying to avoid it and I'm so glad I can finally see it. This song and Adam's songs were low key my faves of these first couple episodes.

One thing that stood out to me in this song is two lines from Alastor is "Is Vox as strong as he purports or is it based on his support? He'd be powerless without the other Vees" (and cute little bit of Val and Velvette looking kinda smug at that line) Cause it does raise an interesting idea: The Vees essentially all prop each other up, how would they handle being purely on their own

"And here's the sugar on the cream, he asked me to join his team, I said no and now he's pissy" Oh so basically he tried asking Alastor out and didn't take the rejection well?

Is that a robo fizz?!?!

I actually appreciate Angel wasn't the one told to be the spy on the inside but rather Pentious. It's a good way to get him involved with this and just isn't the more obvious plot choice

With Angel feeling jealous and insecure I'm actually really glad there isn't that thing where this new character is suspicious and one character points that out but they keep getting dismissed by everyone else and just accused of being jealous

Poor sir Pentious...And honestly this moment is just really sweet and honestly Charlie's design with her hair and Pj's are so adorable!

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel early access #hazbin hotel spoilers #shut up me #my ramblings

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noobsomeexagerjunk · 3 months ago

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pentiment review & thoughts

so. i played pentiment. writing this while at my 4th play (with my first and third as same stats, different accusations). bookworm, hedonist, bookworm again, and now businessman. having a lot of fun so far.

was prompted bc 1) this game is a common rec for disco elysium players, 2) i got andreas maler in a blorbo uquiz, so of course i had to see what the fuss was about

spoilers, obviously:

prefacing first that. uh, i got into this game with relatively surface-level understanding of the late middle ages/early renaissance, and like very little of how this impacted germany. god bless the glossary. the only thing really guiding me was being catholic + my familiarity with benedictines (the people who ran the all-girls catholic school i studied in) so uh

given that, my 1st andreas had his wanderjahre in Italy, is a bookworm with skills towards Oratory and Logic, possessing a Master's in Theology. this will be about the first play

act i

what an introduction. i played off my andreas as an intellectual with a love for God but also a concern for people regardless of class, and i just went around being as respectful as possible. emphasis on "as possible," bc i can refuse to be a Lutheran and still criticize the abbey actually <- pissed off both gernot and rothvogel

the DRUCKERS! my best friends :)

spent much of my dinners with the farmer-peasants. had a meal with sebhat as well. tassing is so alive!!!

the implication that andreas fell asleep if you choose to watch matthieu and rüdeger go at it is very funny to me. monk sex is boring ig. also sorry zdena, im too worried about piero to fuck you right now

why did i think the baron was just an intellectual outcast. of course he's an asshole who abuses his power

THE KIDS! THEY ARE SO LOVELY!

none of these suspects feel like the murderers. tbh i probably should've settled on lucky bc he had the most damning evidence in retrospect. but ferenc just had more, and i was able to push him to the archdeacon

i am a coward and did not look at the execution

act ii

this Andreas just came from France!

"you are banned from the abbey, but i need you to come join me for dinner" okay father gernot???

the golden hand inn looks sooo pretty. surprised i could only make conversation with samuel until the troops were like, really close/the drinking quest

things got worse, a revolt is in formation. this was apparently a trend all over germany at the time, and not limited to tassing. weirdly familiar huh

when you want to escape from your problems via involving yourself from the problems others instead

caspar my boy! im glad to have known you

the Sommerfelds are so lovely

these aqueducts are so cool

it was so much easier to pick Guy, as far as the evidence i got on him is concerned. your embezzlement had an effect on the abbey's management of tassing, which is now biting all of you in the ass

i knew Lenhardt was an ass but i didnt think he'd go as far as to protect the accused

that ending holy shit

act iii

haha i opened tumblr before getting here and got spoiled about the mysterious guy following magdalene

my magdalene bg is Vitae Sanctorum, Bookkeeping, Haggle, & Volksbücher

Ötz you are adorable but you do not suit Magda at all

it does not help that the town ships the two

every single theme is coming together. the question... of history!

the letter writing being so prominent here is very felt

the familiar and unfamiliar are so clouded as time progresses, its insane

apparently ill peter can live *that* long

i learned the hard way after my first run that werner will be an outright asshole in act iii if andreas doesnt speak with him well via my second run; see, my major and only interaction with the guy in run 1 is during the drinks quest in act ii. the difference is stark

martha pfieffer i wish i got more time with you <- got her contemplating the monastic life in the 1st run only? i wonder what triggers this

fucked up that i couldnt send sister susanne out. i think i played my magda too nice with the nuns

snitched on the twins immediately whoops. this is fine, i can go down the mines myself

haha i thought baltas was an act iii-only character, i straight up didnt interact with him during act ii and probably forgot he spoke during the discovery of otto's body

the readying for christmas was sooo brain-sctatchy. seeing the direct effects of our choices in the previous acts, it's so!!!

gotta be real, i thought the discussions on historiography and historical revisionism were like, just there? i didn't think it would be the core of the problem but. of course it is. it makes me feel very stupid for not pointing at father thomas sooner

like, if you spend significant amounts of time with the guy enough, his distrust of collective lay men and assertion towards the authority of the church is like, very very obvious. you see it during the dinner with the baron. when he says the words that triggers peter into burning the abbey. when you talk about claus publishing the 12 articles and agreeing upon the suggestion of banning book reading. the story of how he and sister amalie escaped the fire from their old abbey. in my 3rd run, i got strong hints when i (andreas) decided to eat with the albans (fr. thomas is present in the meal), particularly when discussing the strictness of the abbot

also, notably, in my 3rd run, during the conversation with father thomas for the christian tassing quest, a Vitae Sanctorum Magdalene can ask about the veracity of the story regarding the marian apparition, our lady of the labyrinth. when father thomas asks why she's pondering on it, if Magda is also of Volksbücher bg, she can bring up comparisons to a story she read about a man who tricked a town into believing a head he possessed was a relic from a saint. Father Thomas will then outright ask whether Magdalene thinks that it is valid of the guy to lie about that. Whatever you make Magda respond, he clearly values it. that fucked me up upon discovery, especially since i chose not to question the story of the church in my first run. that's outright foreshadowing, especially since that conversation literally takes place inside said church

anyways, i considered for a moment as to how conscious Sister Amalie was about the notes she wrote. to my fury (against thomas) and relief (for her), she was very unaware. fucking hell, i love christian mystics, and i outright ignored the implications of father thomas as her interpreter

like, i knew such interpreters would twist the testimonies of mystics to assert the church's authority, but. i assumed that this, like the obvious real-time historical revisionism in-game, was just shit that happens. not the core. another blow to my observation skills, but what matters to me is that i figured it out eventually

i had an inkling claus would die but not like that D":

like. magda on christmas eve. dad's friend is back from the dead. the town priest has been responsible for the deaths of people who risked the secrets of the town. dad is dead. idk if the devs over there are interested in spin-offs, but the time between christmas 1543 and when magda leaves for prague should be known

the müller kids really take after their parents, and seeing them interact with old man maler really warmed my heart

ugh, what a lovely game. it deserves its praises

#pentiment #pentiment spoilers

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genesisvirus · 5 months ago

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now that i've watched the whole sonic ova movie i'm going to talk about sonic's character in it, and why i think people don't understand it in favor of just seeing him as an asshole in this movie. bear with me here i went on a bit of a tangent.

sonic since day one was always marketed as a "mascot with an attitude", something with a bit more edge than, say, mario, without making him completely unlikeable. that being said, genesis sonic's character was always hard to explain to people, to the point that when he was westernized over here, they had to play up certain aspects to make him fit with what would be appealing.

we're going to ignore anything past 1996 since that was the material that 1) ova had to work with, and 2) what ova was competing against. i fully believe sonic in japan and western sonic are two completely different characters. sonic is frequently described as a serious character, with a love for adventure but also relaxation. he had an attitude, most of it coming from his confidence in his abilities, but that didn't stop him from doing the right thing at the end of the day. he just doesn't always take to authority and control well. he's a free spirit, he strives for freedom. that's exactly why him and eggman clash together, even ignoring how eggman kidnapped his friends to use them for his robots. this is the sonic that's depicted in the ova. he's also a "action first, ask questions later" person, much less than knuckles of course but it's still there. he's not detail-orientated, which does sound alot like some recent depictions of him too, such as lost world and prime.

when it came time to westernize sonic they played up that attitude to make him stand out against the crowd, give him a unique personality not unlike any other mascot at the time. (this was before stuff like bubsy and the other sonic copycats, of course.) his personality became more of a "totally radical" type of character. it was the 90s, we were in a phase you could say. but that's how they could translate the very little we knew about sonic at the time. if memory serves me sega wasn't really the best with clueing translators in on the lore back then, enough to warrant them creating a whole sonic bible completely separate from sega's input.

people used to that form of sonic or even the recent depictions would see this sonic in the movie as weirdly out of character, but it's not, it's the same character, just certain aspects of his personality are more highlighted than others. whenever people talk about ova sonic they're mostly talking about the beginning scene, since the rest of the movie sonic is pretty consistent, so let's talk about that.

in the beginning sonic is just trying to relax since there's nothing big happening on that day. he blows off tails and his new invention but it's clear he'd just rather take a nap instead of go out in the water, and he's still pretty polite about not trying it out. tails isn't even dejected about it, just immediately goes to use it, which sonic comments about how he's like a kid with his toys (which is straight up not wrong he's like 8). he gets annoyed about being splashed with water twice, but doesn't outwardly show his irritation, just requests tails to watch where he's going.

it's after being interrupted too many times that he finally gets annoyed enough. he shrugs off a weird sound and tails' screaming as nothing, tries to ignore tails' calls for help (which, to be fair, would be hard to understand over the radio blasting in his ear), and chooses not to rescue the old man, sounding like he particularly doesn't like the owl to begin with. sonic is not a detail-orientated person, he's not going to pay attention to everything going on. it's why he didn't realize tails was actually calling for help until he saw what was happening, and it pops up again later in the movie when he hears about the glaciers, not realizing until it was too late that he was indirectly telling metal how to destroy the land of the sky due to their link.

in shows like aosth and satam, sonic is frequently shown to have an overprotective attitude towards tails, and it's not easy to fault him for that since tails in those shows is a lot less capable. he doesn't have his intellect and is moreso a stand-in for younger audiences to relate to, which is why he's frequently the character learning a lesson in those sonic sez segments. here, tails is shown to be capable of holding his own, and their brother dynamic doesn't seem as pronounced. tails CAN fight, CAN take care of threats, and it's only when it's stated that the threat is up to sonic's level is when sonic tells tails and knuckles to leave it to him. sonic gets amused with tails' antics and even finds them annoying at times, which feels more realistic to how a brother would react to their little brother doing the stuff tails does, but he doesn't coddle tails or sees him as something he needs to keep from danger. when the old man's engine is on fire, sonic brushes off going to rescue him and even tells tails that he's the one that can fly, but not only is this the point where sonic is still pissed about having his nap ruined and is trying to salvage it somehow, it's obvious he believes in tails' abilities to take care of, what he views as a minor issue. even after that, he still jumps in once it's clear that tails needs extra help.

after that he only really expresses reluctance to help when it comes to robotnik's generator, but like.. can you blame him? he immediately knew robotnik was lying, and only really did it when sarah asked him to and tails suggested that may be the one time robotnik isn't lying. other than those times sonic pretty much jumps into saving the day pretty willingly, and again even tries to rescue metal after it saved two people from an explosion.

it feels really weird having to over-analyze such a minor beginning sequence but i think everyone just singled out the "shut up tails!" and used it to paint ova sonic as a huge asshole. he's not, he's rough around the edges but he's still good-hearted. and people need a healthier view of how siblings interact anyway. yes guys, sonic is allowed to find tails annoying at times and even snap at him. go read sonic the comic if you actually want some evidence of sonic being an asshole to tails for no reason.

#tails.txt #tails liveblogs sonic ova #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sth #sonic ova #hopefully i explained myself well. trying to be as non-biased as possible here #i'm absolutely willing to listen to other people's opinions by the way.#i think it's fun to compare how we view the same character in different way

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kinktae · 3 years ago

Note

Btw what kind of requests you want? Like quick little drabble requests? Cause ngl cockwarming with Taehyung been on my mind all week😳

i went slightly off script but ok no bc imagine ur sleeping on ur side and u wake up to kisses being pressed against your shoulder.....

TW: cockwarming, masturbation, slight somnophilia(?)

Pairing: taehyung x f!reader

+18 CONTENT

"Baby..." He'd coo, moving to press himself into your back.

He knows you're tired and half asleep but he's missed you so bad. Plus, you looked so pretty sleeping in your shared bed, sporting one of his favorite t-shirts.

"'M tired." You'd whine, clearly exhausted, shuffling back closer into him. Because sleepy as you were, you also missed your boyfriend. There wasn't a minute that went by where you didn't crave his presence and warmth.

"Was thinking about you all day..." He frowned, pout pursed innocently as he snaked a hand over your hip and down between your plush thighs, pressing another kiss to your skin as he found your clothed clit. Your lips parted as a shaky breath left you, your own hands coming to grab at his wrist.

He paid you no mind, of course, loving to feign the oblivious.

"Did you miss me, sweetheart?" He asked, making your head bounce.

"Missed you so much, Tae." Your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying the way his fingers worked you like only he could.

"You sleepy, baby?" Taehyung hummed, pushing aside your damp underwear, and to your surprise, slipping himself inside you. The two of you shared a gasp, the stretch impossible to miss.

You nearly let out a whine as his fingers left your clit, choosing instead to rest on your hip, offering it a intimate squeeze.

"Goodnight, then." He stilled. You blinked in disbelief, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend who, indeed, appeared to be asleep. But you knew him well. And no amount of fake snores could conceal the way he was trying to hide that knowing smirk.

Surely, he must be joking. He was literally inside you?

Whimpering, you pressed your hips back in hopes of some sort of friction.

You pouted as his grip on you tightened, keeping you in place.

"Tae, please..." You whined sleepily. Your body was too exhausted to properly move, and you were simply too aroused by now to just go back to sleep.

His answer came in the form of soft breathing, his head snuzzled into your neck.

"Asshole."

Your fingers found your clit desperately, cheeks burning in shame. You were just so worked up and his cock was stretching you so nicely. His familiar scent engulfed you, somehow spurring your lewd actions on. He had you completely and utterly wrapped around his finger, your own fingers rolling over your sensitive bud.

At the sounds of your familiar moans, Taehyung opened his eyes, peering over your shoulder to see the way your hand had disappeared between your thighs, clearly touching yourself while still around his cock.

"Oh, fuck."

"Tae... Tae, won't you fuck me? Please?" You pleaded, looking over at him.

You looked so sweet, eyes watery and brows furrowed. He nearly lost all composure, wondering when his girl became so needy.

"What's this? I gave you my cock and its still not enough?" He grunted, a more primal part of him surfacing. All you could do was nod obediently, an apology or two slipping your lips as you felt his cock twitch inside you.

"It's so late." Taehyung sighed, stilling your hand and pulling himself from you in one quick motion.

You didn't have a chance to voice your protests before you were pushed onto your back, your boyfriend shifting to sit between your legs. You let out a breath as he gripped your inner thigh, spreading your already swollen pussy out for him. His other hand was wrapped around his hard cock, rocking his tip up and down your slit.

He grinned darkly, "Guess I'll just have to fuck you until you tire out for real."

#bts smut #bts taehyung #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung blurb #bts blurb #bts drabble #mine

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elaineonline · 3 years ago

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NSFW ALPHABET | TOJI FUSHIGURO

NOTE: omg! this was fun (*^^*) who shall be next? :)

reblogs are fine with me :D

A - Aftercare (what is he like after sex)

He wasn't big on aftercare before meeting you, but now that he's in a more serious relationship with you, he wants to make sure you're taken care of. But since he deeply cares about you, he'd do whatever to make sure you get what you need, whether it’s feeding you, giving you a bath, cuddling with you, you name it.

B - Body part (his favorite body part, as well as his partner's body part)

He enjoys working with his hands and using his arms. He enjoys picking you up and throwing you around like a rag doll, as well as holding you in his enormous muscular arms while fucking into you.

and what about you? He loves every inch of you, every part of you. But, if he had to choose, he enjoys latching onto your breasts and watching them bounce as he fucks you with your legs thrown over his shoulders. (no matter the size)

C- Cum (mostly anything to do with cum)

When he's going to cum, he normally asks where you want it, which is usually inside of you. He enjoys breeding you and watching your cum combine with his as it spreads along his cock.

D - Dirty secret (his dirty secret)

As the old couple next door go for their daily walk, he wants to fuck you from behind against your guy's glass window making them spot you guys. He’s manifesting for that to happen one day.

E - Experience (how experienced is he? Does he know what he's doing?)

Before you came along, he'd had a few hook-ups with women, so he'd always known what to do. Back when he was a virgin, though, he'd automatically know what to do based on all the porn he'd watch on a regular basis. Even though there’s a few things he had to teach himself due to the two of you experimenting. (he always does a great job)

F- Favorite position (his favorite pose)

He enjoys standing up because, as previously stated, he enjoys holding your body while fucking himself into you. and you enjoy it also, because you can feel how much deeper he is in that position.

G - Goofy (is he serious? humorous? etc..)

Before sex, he'd probably make a joke about how amazing he'll fuck you and how you'll struggle to walk afterward. The only talking there would be is degrading with a side of praise.

H- Hair (how well groomed is it?)

Hair is usually located near the pelvis area\base of the cock (aka, happy trail) as well as a small trail that leads down. He'd prefer to keep it that way because it doesn't appear to be overly busy or crazy lookin’. Unless you specifically request that he change it.

I - Intimacy (how romantic is he?)

Depending on the day, but most often on important occasions such as your birthday or after you've shared a tender moment together and he was to show how much he adores you.

J- Jack off (masturbation)

Not really, unless you’re gone for a long time which is rare.

K - Kink (one or more of his kinks/fetishes)

(these only apply if you’re into them of course :))

Knife Play - His job involves weapons including sharp objects such as knives. Running a knife or blade down your body is hot to him..

Gun play - With this one, he likes to show off his possessive side by threatening you by holding it to your head or other places, or fucking you with it in your cunt.

Somnophilia (some days)- you look good all the time but when he watches as you’re peacefully sleeping, he gets hard over how good you look

Sadism- Toji’s had a rough past, he loves taking on that pain out on you in the bedroom, and to humiliate you on top of that.

Anal sex- why not stretch your asshole the way he does your cunt? He loves hearing you scream of pain and pleasure after he puts it in there.

Dacryphilia- Toji’s huge, sometimes it’s hard for you take the inches he was blessed with which causes tears to run down your cheeks. He loves to watch those tears.

Choking- We’ve obviously learned that Toji’s rough in the bedroom, so he’d casually choke you with his large hand before and during he fucks you, along with wrapping his strong arm around his neck as he fucks you.

Begging- He needs to hear you beg for his cock before using it.

Discipline- DO NOT ACT UP! This man would punish you as if it’s nothing, you’re cervix would be screaming and crying for help.

Degradation- “C’mon you damn slut.” “Shut the fuck up and take it already.” “Fuck, stop fucking whining, whore.” and plenty of more :D

Praise- Mostly after sex because you took him so well, “You did so well taking my cock.” “i know it was hard alright? but you did great.”

Face slapping- Another part of disciplining you, is slapping you as he rams his cock into you at a harsh speed.

Face sitting- Sit. On. His. Face. you won’t regret it, and he’d could do it for however long.

Edging- On a punishment day, if you declare that you’re close he’d take his cock right out of you, leaving you to cry over and over again.

L- Location (favorite places)

Public restaurants- whether it’s fingering you under the table when you two are meeting with people, or when he takes you into the bathroom and lifts you dress as he fucks you from behind.

kitchen counter, the floor of anywhere in the house, the couch, the stairs, he’s down for anything.

M - Motivation (what turns him on)

Almost anything you do turns him on, but specifically if you’re body (like breast, or ass) Is exposed to him.

N - No (what he wouldn't do)

Unless it’s with another woman, no threesomes. He can’t even think of another man fucking you other than him.

O - Oral (prefers to give or receive?)

he prefers to receive, though again, you could sit on his face for hours.

P- Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and

sensual?)

rough and fast, for special days, slow and sensual. (both feel great to you regardless)

Q - Quickie (does he like fast sex)

Yes, If he’s on lunch break he’d hurry and go home just to fuck you quickly before going back.

R - Risk (does he like experiments/risks)

Yes! Hell, one of his sexual fantasies is to make the whole neighborhood watch you guys.

S- Stamina (for how many rounds it is enough)

Depending on the day, about 4 or 5. More or less depending on how you two feel.

T- Toys (does he have toys? does he use them?)

No, he feels as though that’s what he’s there for.

U - Unfair (does he like to tease)

Nah, he likes to hop right into it.

V- Volume (how loud it is, what sounds it

makes, etc.)

He usually grunts by how tight you squeeze him as he pounds into you, he’d also mumble a few “Fucks” and “Shits” along degrading you, but wouldn’t be overly loud. One of the things that are loud though, is the skin slapping when he’s going feral in literally any position.

W - Wild card (random headcannon)

He once made his friend listen when he called in the middle of having sex, which made him not talk to Toji for a few days. (even though his friend still stayed and listened)

X- X-ray (let's see what happens under the

clothes)

7.5 inches, girthy with a bit of curve. also, veins running along the sides of it.

Y - Yearning (his sexual attraction)

24/7, I mean, of course you guys have a healthy relationship and still talk lol. But sex still plays a huge part of it.

Z- Zzz (how quickly he then falls asleep)

He usually pulls you onto his chest and makes sure you fall asleep before him to make sure everything is fine on your behalf. after you’re in a deep sleep, he quickly goes into one also.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #x reader #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fushiguro #toji fic #toji fluff #toji imagine #toji thirst #jjk smut #toji smut #jujutsu toji #toji x you #smut alphabet #alphabet

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joaquinwhorres · 4 years ago

Text

gazes (joaquín torres x reader)

SUMMARY ››››› It's become increasingly apparent to Sam and Bucky that you and Joaquin cannot take your eyes off each other. Unfortunately for them, you two have decided to be Professionals and that means keeping your eyes, hands, and lips to yourselves. No matter how difficult it is.

WORD COUNT ››››› 3,716

WARNINGS ››››› sexy times implied

A/N ››››› Ok so these headcanons y'all have been sending me are incredible. I read these two back to back and I just had to write something connecting them.

The kid had no tact.

Sam wasn't exactly sure why he expected more from the guy who'd led into his theory that Steve was on the moon by referencing vague internet rumors, but even despite that, he'd assumed Joaquin possessed some sense of subtlety.

Instead he was over at the leg press trying and failing not to stare at Y/N as she bent over at the middle to help Bucky push deeper into the stretch.

"You know she could hit you with a harassment claim for staring at her like that."

Joaquin jumped, the weights dropping suddenly with a loud clang. Across the gym, Bucky laughed as Y/N whipped around to face the two men. "Everything ok?" Her voice sounded genuinely concerned, and Sam couldn't help but smirk as Joaquin turned towards her, giving a little wave.

"Foot slipped," he answered, and she nodded, turning back to Bucky quickly.

"Foot slipped," Sam mocked.

"Dude, you scared the shit out of me."

"If you paid half the amount of attention you give to Y/N to your surroundings, you'd have known I'd been standing here for three minutes."

Joaquin gave a defensive scoff. "I wasn't staring at her--I was just--" he stopped, searching for an excuse, and Sam raised his eyebrows.

When it was clear Joaquin couldn't find a convincing enough lie to end the sentence, Sam shook his head. "You know, if you talk to her, she might actually let you take her out."

"I talk to her," Joaquin protested.

Sam shook his head, uncrossing his arms. "No, I mean talk to her. Chat her up. You've gotta have some game, right?"

"I've got game..." His sentence trailed off as he turned to look in her direction, finding her standing over Bucky's feet with her hands on her hips. "But like, we're co-workers, you know? I don't want to make things awkward around the gym or the compound or anything."

"Joaquin," Sam said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You're already making things awkward."

"He's staring at your ass again."

"And you're trying to get out of stretching again," you quipped, moving Bucky's leg closer to his chest. The super soldier tilted his head as if to acknowledge the legitimacy of your accusation.

"Doesn't change the fact that I think you're about to give him a heart attack."

"I highly doubt he's worried in the slightest about my ass. He's probably zoned out."

"He's definitely focused in...on--"

"On my ass," you finished, shaking your head. You might have given Bucky's claim a little more credence if it weren't for the fact that Joaquin Torres had been anything but the consummate professional towards you. He was friendly and upbeat and welcoming, and one of the few genuinely good guys you'd ever had the pleasure of working with.

You'd never caught him staring once, and it's not like the boy was exactly known for subtlety. Last time Bucky had asked him to cover for him so you couldn't come down and teach him the right way to train his body, he'd told you that Bucky had left the compound to get you a thank you gift for all of your hard work. All while staring at the gym door.

The heavy sound of weights falling against each other echoed throughout the gym, and you spun around to face the sound. Sam hovered over Joaquin's shoulder, the latter no longer working the leg press but instead looking as if he'd just received the scare of his life.

Bucky broke into laughter, and you smacked at his leg.

"Everything ok?" you called out, and Joaquin smiled, giving a sheepish little wave at you. "Foot slipped."

"It's a good thing he wasn't at the bench press. You might have killed him."

Your head snapped back to Bucky who was giving you a shit eating grin.

"You're an asshole."

"I'm right."

"Do you think if I ask nicely Wakanda will take you back?"

"So you know I'm right."

You chanced a glance back at Joaquin who was still talking to Sam before turning back around and placing your hands on your hips. "I'm calling Ayo."

You were running early.

Not to any event in particular, but just for the general course of your day. It was rare for you to wake up to your first alarm so completely refreshed, and with a fully awake brain, you found it much easier to navigate the morning. You were able to get dressed without crawling back in bed for a few more minutes, and didn't have to battle with sleepy indecision when choosing what you wanted to eat for breakfast.

One thing after another just continued to roll your way, leading you to the gym much earlier than usual.

And that's where the luck stopped.

Or maybe it didn't stop. But it definitely took a turn. Because while you fully expected someone else to be in the gym already, you hadn't expected just one person to be in the gym. And even if you had, you wouldn't have guessed that that one person would be Joaquin. And if, for some reason, you'd had the foresight to sense that, you definitely never would have pictured him to be running on the treadmill shirtless.

You stopped in your tracks, eyes falling to the bouncing dog tags on his chest and then lower to the well defined abs you'd somehow never seen before.

It felt like you'd seen just about every man in this compound shirtless. At some point, they all seemed to strip in the gym or during one of your group training classes you ran for those who weren't field agents. Bucky was shirtless half the time you worked together. It was so normal, you hardly even blinked an eye anymore. Seeing Sam without a shirt was more rare and quite the sight, but it'd never caught your breath quite like seeing Joaquin. Joaquin, who had never so much as worn a tank top in the gym, Joaquin.

And now here he was, chest bare and heaving, feet pounding rhythmically against the treadmill, hair still messy from his pillow and sweat. Your brain couldn't seem to function correctly, offering you images of the sight before you, only closer. Much closer. Hovering inches over your stretched out body as the headboard behind you rammed into the wall with the force of each thrust--

"Hey," Joaquin greeted, noticing you standing off to the side. You blinked, heat rushing to your face as he turned the treadmill down to a more leisurely pace. "Something wrong with my form?"

It was tempting to lie and offer to "help him fix it." Or to be completely honest and tell him you'd never seen a human form as perfect as his.

But neither of those responses were professional or even appropriate, and you needed this job.

You swallowed, shaking your head. "No, I was just wondering why you were wearing those," you said, gesturing to his dog tags, and allowing your eyes to fall to his chest once more. You followed a bead of sweat as it rolled down his body, heading to the waistband of his shorts. Joaquin reached to touch his tags, causing them to jingle together once more and pull your attention up to him.

"It's hard to let them go," he smiled, ruefully, hitting the button so the belt slowed even more. "I'd say it's a habit, putting them on, but at this point they're just like a part of me."

You nodded, wishing you'd taken this conversation anywhere but to the idea of dog tags and what they stood for. It wasn't so much a mood killer but a guilt inducer because instead of you feeling embarrassed and somber, all you wanted to do was grab them and pull him closer to you.

He must have read the conflict on your face because he gave a crooked smile. "Yeah, sorry, it's kinda morbid."

"No," you shook your head, clearing it of the daydream induced fog. "I probably shouldn't have asked."

"No, nah, it's cool," his smile grew into grin, as the belt came to a stop. He leaned his forearms against the console, staring at you as if waiting for you to continue the conversation. Which you were not equipped to do with a smiling and shirtless and sweaty Joaquin Torres right before you.

"Well, thanks for being cool about it," you said with a nod.

My God, something was wrong with you. They were just abs. And sure, maybe the abs belonged to the man who not only found the time to moonlight as a superhero but star in your increasingly dirty dreams of late, but it was just a body party that you'd seen a million times.

But never on Joaquin.

You blamed everything your brain was doing to you on Bucky and all of his stupid comments about Joaquin's supposed fixation on your ass. You wondered what he would say if he could see you now. "And I thought I was half machine. I could practically see your brain short circuiting." or "If that's what you're like when you see him half-naked, how are you ever going to--"

"Yeah, of course," Joaquin said, still smiling, his eyes lifting up over your shoulder as the other door to the gym opened and Sam came in. "Hey," he greeted with a jerk of his chin.

"Hey," Sam said, drawing closer, his eyes on you. You forced a smile on to your own face, and lifted a hand, not trusting anything that was coming out of your mouth.

"You're here early," the other man said, stepping onto the treadmill next to Joaquin's, and putting his water bottle down next to the machine.

Both of them were looking at you now, and it's not like you could handle staying in this gym any longer. "I came down looking for my water bottle. I think I left it here yesterday."

Sam raised his eyebrows glancing around the gym, and Joaquin stepped down off of the machine. "Do you want help looking for it?" he asked, and your whole body seemed to tense up at the idea, your brain transporting you to a future scenario where the two of you wandered around the room, Joaquin next to you or behind you, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him, all the while searching for a water bottle that was sitting on your dresser.

"No." Your voice came out too high, but you tried to play it off, shaking your head. "I've already interrupted your workout enough. It's either by the weights or not in here."

"Alright," he nodded. "If you need any help looking around the compound though, let me know."

"Thanks," you said. And then you gave another stupid wave and beelined it for the weight racks because you had to get out of here.

You made a show of looking next to each section of weights, even bending over to check underneath of them as if it could have been knocked under somewhere. After you felt an appropriate amount of time had passed to be convincing, you straightened up, empty handed. You turned back to Joaquin and Sam, both watching you rather than continuing their workouts as you might have hoped.

"Not here," you called back with a shrug and then left the gym and headed straight up to your shower.

He was nothing if not predictable.

The minute Y/N bent over to check behind the weight rack, his eyes were glued to her. Or perhaps more accurately, the bright teal spandex shorts she wore. As she pulled herself back up from searching for her water bottle and turned to them, Joaquin quickly looked to Sam as if the two had been talking the whole time and then "casually" returned to her.

"Not here!" she said, shrugging and then walking out of the gym, her footsteps quick and purposeful as she left through the door Sam had just entered by.

"So, what'd I interrupt?"

Joaquin looked up at Sam as if remembering he was there. "What?"

"You know, when the two of you were sitting by this machine making eyes at each other? Did you actually say anything to her or….?"

Joaquin shook his head. "No, she just came in and, uh, we chatted for a second, and then…" he trailed off, as if not fully remembering any of the past ten, twenty, however many minutes.

"You just chatted," Sam repeated, the disbelief on his face edging into his voice.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded.

"Anywhere in this chat you finally ask her out?"

"Nah, it didn't feel right."

"It didn't--she was practically taking off the other half of your clothes with her eyes," Sam sputtered, gesturing to Joaquin's shorts.

The kid laughed and shook his head as if Sam didn't know what he was talking about. Joaquin moved to exit the gym as well. "I'll see you later, man," he said, leaving a very exasperated Sam behind.

Bucky Barnes was a motherfucking liar.

"Let's grab a drink on Friday," he said.

"Consider it me making it up to you for being such a pain in your ass," he said.

"I'll buy," he said.

Mothefucker.

This wasn't just you and your favorite co-worker getting a drink. This was a goddamn set up. Because one hour and three mojitos into the night, Sam and Joaquin walked in the front door.

"I fucking hate you," you said, glaring up at his stupid smug face.

"Well, what a surprise, he grinned, as you shook a finger up at him.

"I told you in confidence I'm a flirty drunk."

He snorted, giving you a look out the side of his eyes. "You told me you were a flirty drunk after you sent me several highly inappropriate drunk text messages about what you wanted to do to a certain Lieutenant, who," the self-satisfied smile was back on Bucky's face. "Is making his way over to us right now."

"When I get home, I swear to God, I'm buying you a ticket to Wakanda."

Bucky quirked an eyebrow. "You're not going to do it now?"

"I didn't bring my credit card because you said you were paying," you huffed.

Before Bucky could respond, Sam and Joaquin were next to the two of you, greeting Bucky with hand slaps and one armed hugs. Sam came around and wrapped an arm around you first before sliding into the seat next to Bucky, and Joaquin came forward, giving you a quick hug.

Which was a first.

More than the feeling of his back underneath your palm, or the way he seemed to emanate warmth, you were done in by how absolutely incredible he smelled. But before you could fully identify whether it was his shampoo, a cologne, or just him, he pulled away and took the only other available seat near the group--the one next to you.

"I see you started without us," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at the assortment of glasses that sat before you. Most of them were Bucky's as he downed beers faster than should have been humanly possible.

"Hard drinker, huh Y/N," Joaquin teased, shooting you a smile.

"Pfft," you dismissed. "Only three are mine."

"Three?" Sam asked, leaning forward to better look at you. "How long have you been here?"

"An hour," you said, completely unnecessarily leaning forward too.

Bucky shrugged. "I got the time wrong."

"Guess we better catch up then," Joaquin said, and you sank back into your chair, narrowing your eyes at him in challenge.

"If you can."

They did.

You were outpaced fairly quickly against the two soldiers and one super soldier. The rum-induced fuzziness around the edges of your brain was compounded by having Joaquin so close to you. At some point he'd pulled his chair a bit closer to yours so that he could better hear the conversation, and you don't remember when it happened, but his arm had also slid around the back of your chair. To your relief neither Bucky nor Sam seemed to acknowledge this. In fact, Bucky was positively quiet and normal all things considered. Everything was going better than you could have expected.

Until the music kicked up.

Sam was the first to be dragged onto the dance floor. He was Captain America. Of course he'd been targeted by the stunning girl in the red dress who'd only had to come up and ask "Does Captain America dance?" to succeed in pulling him off to the dance floor.

Bucky was next. Although he wasn't tugged onto the dance floor by his hand the way Sam was. It was the sight of the person in the tight black number that did him in, luring him away to the dance as if drawn by a magnet.

And then it was you and Joaquin, sitting at the bar. Alone. Together.

You looked up from your drink, pushing the straw down into the ice to stir up the clinking sounds, and he took a swig of his beer before putting the bottle back down on the bar.

"Alright, let's dance," he said, nodding with his head towards the crowd, and you let out a disbelieving snort.

"I don't know how to dance. I mean, I can dance," you attempted to clarify, although you had a feeling words were failing you at the moment. "But that's real dancing, and I can't do that."

"I guess you're lucky you have a really good teacher asking you to dance then," Joaquin grinned, holding out a hand. You looked down at his open palm, hesitating only for a second before you slid your hand into his and jumped down from your chair.

He led you out through the moving bodies expertly, dodging couples who were clearly more into the dancing than each other and couples where the complete opposite was true. The small bit of space he found you was closer to the center of the dance floor than you'd usually feel comfortable with, but when he turned towards you with that look on his face, any of your residual anxiety had vanished.

"Ok, come close," he said, and you took a small step closer to him, causing him to laugh. "Closer." He gestured, and you moved forward some more, Joaquin's hands finding their way to your hips and pulling you even closer. His hands rose, one finding its way to your mid-back, pushing your elbow up to rest on his, as the other took your hand and placed it over shoulder.

"This ok?" he asked, eyebrows raised, and you nodded, trying to keep your attention on him, his instructions and his words, and not the way that you could feel just about every part of him from the way he was angled against you. His right side was flush against your left, and his knee pushed between yours.

"Just follow me," he said, his head bent close to yours. Before you could even respond, he started to move, pulling you along with him through the dance. It was smooth and rolling and you'd never seen a guy able to roll his hips like Joaquin. He seemed to know exactly how to guide you, moving his body to push and pull yours along whenever you hesitated or felt lost, coaxing waves and movements out of you that you didn't know you could do. Each success was met with a small word of praise and a brilliant smile, as his hands shifted to hold you closer, and you wrapped your own hand around his neck to better feel and predict his movements.

It felt as if a fog had rolled in over the dancefloor, obstructing all else from view so it was just you and Joaquin, eyes locked to each other as you moved together, occupying the same space.

The song faded into the next one, and Joaquin stopped. You went to move backwards, to give him space and have him move on as many other of the more skilled dancing couples seemed to do, switching partners amongst each other. But he kept you close to him, hand sliding down to your waist.

"Now you can really dance," he teased, his eyes shining as they stared into yours.

"Only with you." It was supposed to be a self-deprecating joke, but it came out too quiet and earnest. Joaquin licked his lips, and your eyes followed the gesture, flickering between his mouth and his eyes.

You don't remember making the decision. You only remember, moving even further into his arms, and pushing yourself up to reach his lips with your own. He bent down to meet you, pulling you even closer and pressing his hard body into yours. His lips moved as slowly and sensually as his hips had, drawing you in and guiding you through a careful rhythm that promised much, much more.

Sam sat with Bucky at the bar. Joaquin and Y/N had disappeared somewhere amongst the dance floor, hidden amongst the crowd.

"You think it worked?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"If it didn't we're screwed," Sam shook his head, taking a swig from his drink.

As if on cue, the two emerged from the swaying bodies, hand in hand, sweaty and much happier than they had been when Sam had left them at the bar.

"We're gonna head back to the compound," Joaquin said with practiced casualness.

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, and Sam swore there was mischief literally glinting in his eyes.

"Yeah," Joaquin nodded too fast and too many times. "Yeah, Y/N forgot about something there…"

"What'd you forget?" Bucky asked, turning to Y/N with a wolfish smile.

"Nothing. We're going to have sex," Y/N said, flatly, causing Sam to nearly spit out his drink. "And if you say one more word, I know a pilot who will fly you to Wakanda himself. No ticket needed."

Bucky mimicked zippering his lips into a smug look, and she rolled her eyes before tugging Joaquin out of the bar by his hand. And he followed. Eyes glued to her ass.

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquín torres x reader #torres x reader #joaquín torres #joaquin torres #torres x y/n #joaquin torres x you #joaquín torres x you #joaquín torres x y/n #torres x you #joaquin torres x y/n #fatws fic #tfatws fic #joaquin torres fic #joaquín torres fic #torres fic #marvel fic

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rwprincess · 3 years ago

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Two Worlds Collided

Masterlist

A/N: Oh, an anachronistic songfic from RWPrincess? But this time it’s about John Bender! :D Inspired by Never Tear Us Apart (originally by INXS in 1987, but I particularly like this Paloma Faith version)

Word Count: 2K

Synopsis: Bender met reader at the Breakfast Club and the two seemed like opposites, but they shared a common hidden sadness. Over the years, feelings and relationships change.

CW: Swearing, sexuality, Bender being a general asshole

Bender had met her the same way everyone in the Breakfast Club had, on the Saturday detention on March 24th. He had seen her in the hallways prior to that as he was always observant. He had seen everyone in the Breakfast Club before that day; but he hadn’t given her much thought. Now, he was paying attention to little else. He had no idea why he was drawn to her; they were both so different and he could never picture himself with a goody-two-shoes like that. But the way she had reacted to his more vulnerable, real moments, how she tried to make a connection with him...that stuck with him. He knew he should have learned from his disastrous blow-up with Claire that two people who were so different just wouldn’t work out. He repeated this to himself over and over, like a mantra, but it never changed how he actually felt.

After the breakup, the Breakfast Club had a split between those who chose Bender and those who chose Claire. Of course, Andrew sided with Claire unconditionally, but John considered that as no big loss. Allison tried to play the middle ground and Johnson had sided more with him, but he was surprised at the wholehearted backing he received from Y/N. He had assumed that she would either try to be neutral like Allison, or pick Claire. She had no reason to side with him, he had always come off as an aloof ass. But she had, and he was eternally grateful for that. He had originally decided to get together with Claire because the notion had a hot, forbidden quality to it. They spent time insulting each other and making out to make up for it. It was as passionate as it was destructive, so of course it couldn’t last. However, when he was alone and reflected to himself, he had been attracted to Y/N all along. She was hot, yes, but he had plenty of good-looking girls to choose from. He was more drawn to that kind, quiet inside she had displayed that day. How she had gone out of her way numerous times to reach out to him and had been genuinely nice to him. Most of the time, someone only did that to gain something for themselves. Whether it was to use him or to make themselves feel better, it depended on the person, but with Y/N that never felt like it was the case.

Don't ask me

What you know is true

Don't have to tell you

I love your precious heart

He thought back to the first time he saw her on that Saturday, walking into the library and looking so out of place. He was already adjusting into his spot when she entered and she froze in front of all the tables like a deer-in-the-headlights, as if she had just materialized there and had no clue what she was doing. He remembered feeling both attracted to that doe-eyed look and scoffing internally at it. While she wasn’t part of the cliques that Andrew and Claire were, she had a very sheltered look to her and he was envious of that type of innocence. Her ignorance must have been bliss compared to the hell he lived each day at school and at home. She was just as out of place as the preppies or ultra-dweeb Johnson, but instead of being offended by that notion, she looked terrified. She meekly put her items on the front-row desk opposite to him and he thought about all the fun he could poke at everyone here, including her. However, the first blow did not land well. Bender loved making people uncomfortable, but he didn’t necessarily want to make them cry. He’d made some off-handed remark towards her. He had been circling her and eyeing her, employing the discomfort he liked inflicting, trying to ‘guess’ why she was in detention. “I bet you were caught fooling around with a teacher, right? Always the quiet ones that you’d least suspect…”

John Bender rarely regretted his words or actions. He knew he was an asshole and let unfiltered thoughts through so that he could be the center of attention. In doing so, he had to stand by all the shit he said, even when he crossed a line. This was one of the scattered occasions in which he felt remorse, though. She didn’t reply, not verbally, anyway, but she looked scared shitless and was rooted to the spot. Tears instantly sprang up in her eyes and she looked as if she were about to hurl right on his combat boots. He backed off after that. He didn’t apologize, because that’s not something John Bender could have on his reputation, but he didn’t target her. There was something so sincere about her reaction and he saw himself reflected in that expression. Not the tough-as-nails persona he projected, but his secret self who had seen too much too early in life and could barely stand another blow. He didn’t know what her deal was, but there was a heavy sadness behind those eyes that was far too real for him to tamper with.

When he had shown the group his souvenir for spilling paint in his garage, courtesy of his father, she must have seen that reflection back. No one in that group actually knew him. They all thought he was a lying sack of shit; what could he say? His reputation preceded him. But he caught her gaze as he backed away from the group, and the sadness in her recognized the sadness in him. He felt an odd sort of click, a mutual understanding, but he turned away from them all and trashed the library.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

That was months ago, and out of everyone he met that day, she was the one who truly stuck by him. He’d surprisingly connected with Johnson, sure. Everybody likes to get high and Bender was the supplier. And he and Allison had similar interests, but she wouldn’t give up Andrew and with that territory came Claire...there was just no going back to that. But Bender still had Y/N, and he could never understand it. The first time he had brought her into his friend circle, he tried to justify it as sticking to his word and ‘having the balls to stand up to his friends’ like he had told Claire to do. He also reasoned that it was some sort of social experiment. As much as he liked to portray himself as someone who couldn’t care less, Bender was entirely social. He craved attention and admiration for others and could read just about anyone like a book. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mess with Y/N after that first comment landed so wrongly. He felt like he knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling and decided to back off. However, it wasn’t just some ‘watch and see how she interacts’ set up; Bender genuinely wanted her there. He wanted to integrate her into his life.

She was still extremely quiet, mostly a speak-when-you’re-spoken-to type, but he started to peel back layers in her personality. He found that, despite that lurking sadness, there was an unending pool of optimism. She tried to see the best in situations and in people. She meshed incredibly well with his friends because she listened instead of judged. She would nod along like she knew exactly what they were talking about and how they felt. He started to develop an attachment to her. While he was still dating Claire, he told himself it was akin to having a pet. Y/N was like a goldfish that he could tell his problems to and know the secret would be kept. But after Claire, he realized that wasn’t the case...particularly when he sought Y/N’s comfort above all else. He divulged the entire last big fight he and Claire had to her, and she was just so...reassuring. After that day, he began to see her in a different light. He argued with himself over what his feelings and intentions actually were, but he couldn’t keep them at bay for long. She was good for Bender. He had never felt lighter.

Of course, Bender had not known stability in his life ever, and the risk of falling for Y/N and having it mean something and being accountable to one person overwhelmed him. He did what he knew best: he fought it and ran away from it. At first, he tried to avoid her, just distance himself. But he’d gravitate back; being without her was too heavy to bear. He wanted to try to actively push her away, to fuck up this relationship with his words, just like he did with everything else. But when he opened his mouth to try to lie, to say he didn’t need her or want her around or whatever, he would look into her eyes and it became impossible. He remembered the way he had shaken her to her core the first day they met, and he couldn’t allow himself to bring that sadness up again in her.

We could live for a thousand years

But if I hurt you

I'd make wine from your tears

Eventually, he gave in. While he was able to control his words to not say anything harmful, he wasn’t able to contain them from slipping up and telling her, “Dammit, I love you!” It wasn’t in a context that could be taken as joking or being said flippantly; she knew immediately what he meant and that he meant those words, wholly.

She took his face in her hands and told him, “I love you, too.” There was no turning back, and as the years passed, they fell deeply in love. He'd dug up her secrets and fears, but she seemed to trust him enough to not use them against her in any way. They both dreaded the prospect of never getting out of Shermer and falling into the same circular trap their parents had. However, he reassured her that the moment they had the opportunity, they would bust out of there. He lucked out that Claire had never asked for her diamond earring back. It was probably one of many and she had forgotten she had even given it to him as a token. He decided to pawn it to top-off the savings he and Y/N had accrued. "You're too good for me, you're sure as hell too good for this place,'' he told her. The trade-in was enough to get them out of town and start anew, but only one of them could really ‘move up’ for now. While they argued back and forth about who should get to pursue which dream, Bender rationalized to her, “I was barely cut out for high school. I can’t really do college. And that’s okay. You’re the brains in this relationship, I’m the beauty.” He winked at her and with her laughter as response, that sealed the deal of who was going to school.

I told you

That we could fly

'Cause we all have wings

But some of us don't know why

She searched the crowd, holding her diploma. Bender had supported her both financially and emotionally these last four years and now they had the degree to prove it. She felt pride in being able to take over from him and let him follow a new path. He had always been good with his hands, but despite his protests, he was good with his mind too. He was a sharp-thinker and she knew that he could make a career that he loved out of that. She’d be there to push and brace him as he had done for her. Finally, she spotted him. When their eyes connected, she felt that same crackle that she had the first day they had met, all those years ago. Before the friendship and the love, she knew there was a spark there, that they were two of a kind, even though they were so different.

I, I was standing

You were there

Two worlds collided

And they could never tear us apart

#john bender #john bender x reader #benderxreader #fem!reader #the breakfast club #breakfast club #reader-insert #80s fanfic

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selinakidreams · 4 years ago

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here’s a lil something for baku (and you) to enjoy on his birthday <3 all apart of the bakugo birthday bash hosted by the lovely @jodrawssmut @phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @ramen-rambles ! !! thank you guys so much for letting me be apart of this <3

pairing: (established relationship) QUIRKLESS AU kiribaku x fem! reader

word count: 3k+

warnings: alcohol consumption but sober sex, oral (f receiving), mentions of throat fucking, mentions of spit roasting, lots of mentions of spit <3 (and exactly one spit into a mouth), very light degradation, praise

a/n: this is my first time writing with three characters kdjdkdk it’s way out of my comfort zone and I only had 6 days to write it,, but I did it!! trust me I wanted to write more but I actually wanted to make it to baku’s birthday so !! don’t be mad at the endiiiiiiinnnngggg <3

The jazz wafted throughout the empty bar; your silk dress falling from the edge of your seat. It has been a slow night for the bar. You leaned your head into your hand, elbow keeping you sturdy as you swirled the drink around it’s glass cup.

Your friend's party became a bit too feral for your taste, but you kept your word and stayed as long as you could for the sole purpose of seeing her smile, but then they showed up and you saw yourself out.

The dim lighting made your eyes droopy with no action to keep your brain going, so you take another swig of your drink before swiveling in your chair to face the other side of the bar.

Floor to ceiling windows greeted you, giving you the perfect overlook to the twinkling city lights below. It was incredible how your friend could afford a room in this hotel for her party.

You noticed a movement in the corner of your eye; someone had entered the bar.

You turn back to face all the expensive drinks displayed on the shelf, the perfect excuse to catch a quick glimpse at him. The contrast of his hair against everything else in the room almost made your eyes pop out of their sockets.

Platinum blonde hair tufted out like an explosion, a satin red shirt that danced with the warm light of the room, black slacks and from what you could tell, some expensive ass shoes. Too dressy just to be here for some drinks.

Wanting to see more but not willing to fully stare at the man, you signed and waited until it seemed like he got settled on the bar stool before saying, “Is it your party that’s on this floor? It seems like quite the... experience.”

Your voice came out smooth and velvety to bakugo’s ears, not that he would ever admit it. He scoffed before taking a second to look at the stranger who was daring to talk to him. His first thought settled in his mind and accepted it, almost prompting for silence- waiting to see if you would push to talk to him again.

From what you could tell, he was scanning you up and down. He opened his mouth to say something; his pink plush lips looking extremely inviting as they began to mouth something.

No sound came out for the next few seconds, showing he decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He closed his mouth and took out a phone from his pocket, the screen illuminated his face as he began typing something out.

With this newfound light, his features became even more alluring- which couldn't be said for most people. Perfect porcelain skin, his profile pointed and devilishly handsome.

He’s well aware that he still held your attention, so when he slid his phone back in his pocket, he responded to your previous question, “yea, that’s the one. I’d rather stick it out instead of hearing them complain about me not going to my own party for the rest of the week.”

By the end of his sentence, he had a glass of something amber in his hand that seemed to look a lot like whiskey. He didn’t spare you another glance but you could tell he expected to hear a response.

You hummed, slightly nodding your head, “The party I had to go to is upstairs and it’s… a lot. They're all just talking about expensive this and designer that and I couldn't listen to another word so I had to get out of there…” you trailed off at his silence. Noting that the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, you introduced yourself in hopes to continue interacting with him. You knew his type, and you knew in some way, he was going to surprise you.

“Bakugo Katsuki.” He said in turn.

You slowly nodded before posing another question.

“So Bakugo, not really a party goer?” You attempt to ask, only to get a huff in return.

“not one for small talk either, i see?” You add at the end.

Another few quiet moments go by before he responds

“If I was a party goer, I’d be at my own party wouldn’t I?” He quipped back and your eyebrows shot up as you raised your hands in defense.

“Well hey, I dunno ! For all I know you could have had a really rough night and this specific bar could be your saving grace. Could possibly use this night to drown your sorrows away behind a whole bottle of what… whiskey?” You say, ushering to his drink before turning to face your own, knowing he probably didn’t like being pegged as such.

“but you wouldn’t do that. You’re a strong man who knows what to do when things get bad, huh?” you continue, sprinkling praise to his dignity. He seemed like the type to prioritize that.

He didn’t do or say much in terms of a response but a small smile grew on your lips seeing how his body suddenly released a bit of the physical tension that was winding up.

You moved a few seats closer to him. If he didn’t like it, he hadn’t said anything.

“So-'' Interrupted before you could continue the line of questions, Bakugo surprised you by asking, “you think you’re better than your friends? Leaving them and comin’ here to drink alone?” his voice coming out gruff and low.

“No, not one bit. I was the one who planned the whole thing for my friend, it’s just unfortunate that she had to invite all those people who aren’t all that nice to her. I can’t stand them. I’ve told them off more than I can count, but they just brush me off. A group of bullies is one thing, but a group of people who pretends to be friends with you then talks behind your back is another.``

Bakugo was quiet, not by astonishment or anger; he seemed to be expressionless as he piped up, “fake people are some of the uglies nobodies out there.”

You turn to look at him before sipping your drink and moving a seat closer. This time Bakugo glanced your way but continued to stay silent.

“You ever beat someone up?” you ask, resting your chin on your palm, tilting your head towards him.

Your second surprise that night, he chuckled. It was soft, the complete opposite to the demeanor he'd been holding.

“Why? You want me to go in there and beat a few of those assholes up?” his eyes were relaxed by this point, no longer sharp and heavily guarded.

“Only because they don't believe I'm intimidating enough.”

“Maybe because you're not.”

You fake gasped, bringing your other hand up to your heart. “Excuse me sir but I'll have you know that I can be quite the fighter.”

“We’ll see about that.”

You hadn’t realized you got so close to Bakugo until you heard the footsteps nearing you both. When a handsome voice called out bakugo’s name, you slightly jumped. Putting as much space between the two of you as possible, you looked to the source of the voice.

Handsome would be an understatement.

With red bangs that framed his sharp toothy smile perfectly and the rest of his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, this man looked a bit taller than Bakugo with a much warmer aura... but radiated the same type of... manliness.

“Bakugo, I just got your text- Mina has been dragging me everywhere to make sure your party’s going well. Is this her?” the handsome man asked, a slight indistinguishable gleam flashes in his eye when he looks over to you.

“Yeah, ‘nd i wanna leave now.” he almost pouted before looking over to you.

“You comin’?”

Your gaze snapped between the two men, only slightly putting two and two together.

Red hair spoke up, “He probably didn't explain it well but I'm his boyfriend, Kirishima Eijiro!” he held out his hand cheerfully, listening to your introduction.

“Not to sound too forward or to make you uncomfortable... but do you wanna come home with us? He texted me earlier saying that there was this hottie in a silk dress and… well…” he trailed off licking his bottom lip as his wandering gaze slowly shifted hungrier, “he wasn't kidding.”

There was a lot happening at once but all that you were thinking was that these two hot men wanted you, and the happy buzz that was coursing through your system couldnt object the offer, so with a quick nod of your head, you were handed a water bottle, guided off of the stool, and into the back of the next taxi they could hail.

The ride was filled with wandering hands and mischievous looks. Kirishima was whispering naughty promises in Bakugo’s ear that you couldn't quite hear, while your attention focused on the big palm that was making its way to the most heated part of your body. The quick inhales that the blonde took went straight to your core, making you incredibly excited for what the night had to offer.

As soon as the door swung open, lips were on lips and clothes were coming off. The rush to get to the bedroom was heated and messy but once you all entered the room, there was an intense shift that even you couldn't predict.

Kirishima spoke first, “So what does my birthday boy want? Does he want to fuck or be fucked?”

With a suck at his teeth, Bakugo knew if he didn’t give an answer soon he’d be met with-

“Better hurry up handsome, or I might just choose for you…” Kirishima hummed, bright crimson eyes hopping on over to meet your gaze, “better yet…”

He was by your side in mere seconds. His huge figure towering over yours, you almost flinched when his bulky fingers grazed up your arm.

“What if you chose for him?” He purred in your ear loud enough so Bakugo’s ruby eyes found yours. Your name rolled off the red-haired man’s tongue like sweet honey, “go ahead, what do you think he would want more?”

Your gaze flickered between them, you couldn’t tell one or the other’s preferences but if they wanted to use you, they could.

“How about… Eijiro… you could fuck my throat and Katsuki… could fuck whatever hole he wants?” You ask, the question raising an octave out of uncertainty.

Kirishima raises an eyebrow towards the man of the hour, slightly amused and completely aroused.

Bakugo is already smirking,“Atta girl, knows exactly what to say.”

Kirishima starts to kiss your neck as Bakugo stands in front of you, occupying your lips for the first time that night.

With one arm wrapped around your waist, he seemed to have rubbed on his boyfriend's bulge before reaching for the zipper of your dress. In turn, the feeling of the Eijiro’s bulge humped your back.

Whether it was your dress hitting the floor or Katsuki’s tongue slipping in your mouth didn't matter, a sharp gasp escaped your lips, causing Kirishima to chuckle and whisper, “get on the bed, princess.” while Bakugo pulls away from you, a string of spit keeps you connected.

With your gaze lustly hazy, you dreamily make your way to the bed, but not without a little show. Before splaying yourself out on the mattress, you stretch out- almost in the child's pose of yoga except you add a deep arch in your back for the sole purpose of showing off your pretty seamless thong.

As you reposition yourself, you glance over to the side to find that both men are now only in restricting briefs, eyes glued to your figure, both palming themselves over their boxers.

Eyes half massed and back flat on the bed, you begin to pout, feeling almost bare without anyone’s hands on you.

As if on cue, they began to make their way over to you, looking oh so hungry.

You immediately sat up and swiped your tongue over your bottom lip, pulsating at the prospect of having two seemingly thick dicks at once… but they were still in their boxers. Why?

“Ya have to ask nicely in order to get a treat, you ungrateful slut.” Bakugo growled before taking your jaw in his hand, squishing your cheeks with his fingers.

“Better yet, beg.” he said with a coldness that heated your core and had your eyes going wide.

Whimpering when he let go, you kept your innocent doe eyes as two sets of starved eyes stared down at you.

“W-wanna get fucked, please. Wanna feel both of you everywhere…” you say as you reach both hands out to palm the silhouette of their bulges. “Please…?”

There was a “christ” that was muttered out before you were pushed back on the bed by Bakugo, then kirishima manhandled you so that your neck was supported by the edge of the bed, your head mostly hanging off.

Even in the midst of the binding tension, Kirishima didn't hesitate to instruct Bakugo to put a pillow under your hips, the blonde eagerly following through with the demand.

“How’dyou want Katsuki to prep you, baby? He’s skillful in every sense but he really enjoys using his mouth.”

The bed shifted and before you could string a thought together, you looked down and lost all ability to think. The sight in front of you was downright sinful. A smirk was pulling at the left corner of his lips as he sunk closer to your clothed pussy, his red gaze now a deep wicked crimson as he watched for your reaction.

You didn't have much time to analyze before a thick hand laced through your hair and ushered your view back to the red head’s now exposed cock. You gulped.

Not incredibly long, a moderate size but with a juicy girth, Kirishima’s cock had a thick vein trailing up his underside.

If you could make heart eyes, you're sure that you'd be doing them by now.

Focused on paying attention to his pretty pink weeping tip, you felt your panties being pushed to the side. As tempting as it was to look down, you kept your sights set on the task at hand. Licking and kissing his cock, mixing your saliva with his precum, you earned a guttural groan from the big man above you, encouraging you to do more, please him more- until a warm muscle was met with your sopping core, causing a high gasp of a vibration to hit Kirishima’s head.

Your mind stopped reeling for a second- it stopped doing anything to be frank. Your hips mindlessly thrust up in attempts to get more of Bakugo’s mouth. He chuckled against you in response.

Moans bounced off the walls the deeper you guys got with each arousing movement; slurps coming from your’s and Bakugo’s mouth were the loudest noises in the room- that was until you moved down to pay the much needed attention to Kirishima’s balls. He couldn't seem to take it when you began sucking and fondling, moaning about how full he looked. He let out an obscene whine that you couldn’t believe came from him but when Bakugo pulled his lips from around your clit, you followed the noise with a similar one.

Unlike Kirishima who had stayed still, you tried to push Bakugo’s face back down out of lack of patience. Somewhere along the lines, the dominating rolls have switched, but you couldn't really find it in yourself to trace back to when that happened.

“You really are a fighter, huh?” he chuckled out before adding, “quit whining shitty hair, you’ll get to fuck her throat once I’m done eating.”

And with that, he dove right back in, causing you to clench around nothing yet and arch your back to get impossibly closer. In turn, your gaze caught the big desperate pleading eyes looking down at you, nearly begging you to do something...

You were so dizzy with pleasure that you murmured a mindless, “I didn't forget about you Eijiro.”, before using your hands to guide his cockhead back into your mouth to coat it in your saliva then pulling off and spreading it down the rest of his length. He bit his lip and let out a cute “mmph!”, which went straight to your abused core. Wanting to hear more, you began to pump his shaft with your messy fist.

With everything going on, you didn’t realize how built up you were. At an astounding rate, your climax crashed over you, making you shriek against Kirishima's dick as you attempted to cage Bakugo’s head in with your thighs. What pushed you even further was the death grip Katsuki had on your thighs and the sinful sounds he was making while lapping away at your juices.

Your hands shot from Kirishima’s cock down to grip Bakugo’s hair, freeing your mouth to pant out breathy praises and a whiney “Katsuki!”.

“Fuck,” Bakugo groaned as he came up from your pelvis once you’ve relaxed, whipping your juices from off of his chin with the back of his hand.

“Kiri, c’mere, you gotta try this,” he said before pulling his boyfriend in for a kiss over your slumped body. Watching their lips meet and seeing Kirishima’s tongue slip into his lover’s mouth sent a dull throb to your core, even moreso when Kirishima sighed into the kiss while his cock twitched upwards, close to your face.

When they pulled away, Bakugo gave one more little peck to Kirishima before looking down at you with a mischievous grin. You mentally gather yourself and sit up, already ready to be told what to do next.

“Open up, sweet cheeks.”

You did as you were told with your tongue out on display, unintentionally closing your eyes as a sweet little “aaah” came out on instinct.

The spit hit your tongue dead on and you had to refrain from automatically swallowing.

A low whisper about how good you were to Katsuki pulled him out of his daze, his eyes darting away from the new wetness on your tongue.

“Swallow, slut.” and so you did.

“You're right Kiri, she is such a good girl… Are you ready to get fucked stupid as your prize?” was the last thing you remember before both of them did exactly that.

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hibiscusia · 3 years ago

Text

Not the usual knight

The bar was not bad, if you take in consideration that he was chosen by Riven.

It's not that Musa didn't like the brown hair guy, well yes at first she had despised him. But with time...A lot of time, she had learned that looks can be deceiving, and that in Riven's case, the shell he'd created for himself didn't define who he really was. Even if he was still a piece of shit most of the time.

“This place is great Riv !”

Sky was looking around, his hand on Bloom's hip.

“See . I told you that I knew some nice places. Come on, let's get a table.”

“We should have come earlier, given the crowd finding a place might be complicated.”

The small group of friends ended up finding a small table in the back of the bar and once their drinks had been ordered, the discussion soon turned around the contract that Musa had managed to land with a music company, the young woman was so happy since the news that even her horrible neighbor hadn't succeeded in ruining her day by reproaching her for making too much noise for almost half an hour that morning.Bloom was also swimming in joy given that she had passed her year and that she had managed to land a job in her favorite vintage shop for the summer, the redhead had only one hurry, that the year school is officially over so they can all have a crazy summer.The discussion then turned to Sky who, according to Riven, had nearly died a good twenty times from despair during the year.

“At the same time you chose to orient yourself in politics man, no one in reasonable sense chooses this sector of their own free will.

“Fuck you Riven.”

“For once I agree with him”

“Not you too Bloom!”

"I'm sorry Babe but everyone knows that entering politics is saying goodbye to all forms of social life...it's the same with studying law."

“Musa please take my side.”

"Sorry Sky, but I wouldn't even have survived a week in your place, so..."

" I hate you all."

The conversation then turned to Riven and his Masters in Biology, which was going smoothly since the young man must have been one of the best in his class. The evening progressed calmly and Musa came to the end of her drink.

“I'm going to order, anyone want something?”

“I will be ok. Sky?”

“No thank you I think I'll take a little break before the next drink.”

“A Bourbon for me.”

The brunette turned to Riven

“...“Please Musa could you bring me a Bourbon?” – “Oh but of course Riven, asked so nicely.”

The young man's smile grew even bigger.

"Please Love - light of my life, would you be so kind as to pick me up a Bourbon?"

He was teasing her, she knew, but the way his voice had dropped an octave had sent a long shiver down Musa's spine – The alcohol was surely playing tricks on her, we were talking about Riven, sure he was hot but he remained an asshole most of the time. Her only response was a sarcastic smile and she left for the bar.

“I'm going to pee. »

Riven got up and disappeared into the crowd.

“I'll bet you 10 bucks they'll come back to the table together.”

Sky looked her girlfriend in the eye

“They just went in two opposite directions. Why would they come back together.”

Bloom shrugged.

“An intuition. Do you stand the bet ?”

“...Deal.”

They shook hands and resumed their conversation.

- - - - - - - - -

Musa hadn't had many moments when she regretted being a woman, but at that very moment she was cursing nature for not giving her a dick instead of breasts.

Two minutes, it had taken two short minutes before a guy – whose smell betrayed the number of glasses he had – approached her. At first he had only stood next to her and Musa hardly noticed him, but he had to open his mouth and suddenly she remembered why she always managed to never be alone at the counter, he seemed to be in his sixties and had no scruples about flirting with someone who might have been his daughter. She had thought about texting Bloom but her phone was left at their table and since she had already ordered the two drinks she could only wait for them, praying for the bartender to hurry, but again, given the number of people that there was tonight she was surely going to have to take her troubles patiently.

Five minutes later and Musa was ready to bust the guy's head on the counter.

Not only did he not want to leave her alone despite the many refusals she had thrown at him, but he was starting to get rude and had already asked her twice if she didn't want “them to go somewhere more private”, to which our pretty brunette replied “fuck you”.Unfortunately some people seem to understand human language only when it suits them.

Finally Musa's glasses arrived and the brunette was never so happy to see drinks in her life, but as she picked up the two glasses to leave the man grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going like this ? Stay we have fun.”

“First you let me go right away, second if I ever want to “have fun” as you say it probably won't be with you so stop pissing me off !”

Musa ripped her wrist out of the guy's grip and started to weave through the crowd to join her friends and avoid sending the glass of Bourbon into the asshole's head.

The problem with some people is that not only do they not know when to stop talking, but also when to retreat. And Musa understood it very quickly when the man's hand closed on her wrist much more violently than the first time making the brunette wince in pain.

“Who do you think you are !”

He was pissed off.

“I was nice to you so you could show some respect bitch !”

He was messing with her...No one can be that dumb...

“Let her go.”

Musa recognized the voice immediately and she turned as far as she could, her gaze immediately lost in Riven's green eyes.

“Who the fuck are you ?!”

She had felt such relief at seeing the young man that for a moment she had forgotten her wrist still in the other's grasp. She winced again in the grip and the expression that appeared on Riven's face would have scared anyone away, anyone but the asshole who was far too drunk to realize that his end was near.

“We were talking her and I so go find yourself another one and don't piss me off !”

Ok too bad for the glass of Bourbon, she was going to smash it on him, since when exactly had she become an object.

Riven grabbed the guy by the collar making him drop Musa at the same time.

“Listen to me, you dickhead. First, if your hands come near her again, I'll cut them off and good luck jerking off afterwards. Second, I think it's time you got home before you do something you're really going to regret, because I'd have absolutely no scruples about kicking the ass off a guy like you. Is that clear ?!”

The threat seemed to have an effect as the man blanched before pushing Riven away and leaving with his tail between his legs.

The brunette turned to Musa who was still holding the two glasses in her hands.

“Come let's join the others.”

The girl nodded and they headed back to their table.

« I didn't think you could be a knight in shinning armor Riven. »

« Suprise Pixie ? »

« hum... »

« I'm not that much of an asshole Muse. »

« Well you have your moments...but yeah i guess you're not. »

Musa smiled at him, a real smile, the ones that she'd always give to her friends, a smile that Riven would secretly die to receive, and something discutingly warm took place in the young man's chest.

- - - - - - -

“You own me 10 bucks babe.”

“How ??”

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

Finally I'm done !!

This is the first time I write a fanfic in English so I apologize if there are small mistakes I did the best I could.

I hope you like it anyway.

Do not hesitate to leave a comment it is always nice to have your opinions.

@gossipqueen2000 thank you for the idea this is for you !!

#rivusa #ftws riven #ftws musa #fate the winx saga #ftws bloom #ftws sky #skloom #fanfic #first english fic ever #i thought i never see the end

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epicene-humanoid · 4 years ago

Note

some trans Jeff thoughts:

he realized he was trans in elementary school and just went fuck it I'll just start introducing myself as Jeffery and see if anyone decides to stop me (as we know, jeff winger can get away with almost anything)

he got top surgery the second he could afford it (around the same time he started at his law firm), and probably bribed someone to keep it a secret

"I'm jeff winger and i would rather look at myself naked than the women I sleep with" are the words of a man proud of his transition

he's really insecure about his fashion sense, which is why he mostly dresses like the douchey guys at his firm in the start of the show, he thought you can't go wrong with the sleazy lawyer look

he will never admit it but he feels super good about the dean hitting on him, because the dean is a (cis) guy, acknowledging that Jeff is more manly than him

i think he starts out stealth and comes out to everyone one by one, probably starting with abed because he knows abed won't judge him and will probably just see it as an interesting backstory.

abed just says it's cool and maybe worth a prequel exploring Jeff's transition, and jeff asks him to predict how all of the members of the group will react to him coming out.

abed's predictions:

britta will be over-the-top supportive and do a ton of research about trans history, probably put together a slideshow just to prove how progressive she is, and jeff will be a little bit weirded out, but also touched that she did all that for him, though he would never let her know that

shirley will be confused, because she doesn't know how someone she trusts and knows so well could be part of a group she was raised to hate, but ultimately realizes that there's nothing actually against the lgbtq people in the bible, and, as a cool character development arch, starts to advocate against use of the bible to justify bigotry

troy will just think it over and decide that Jeff's physique and coolness are even awesomer knowing how much work he'd had to put in to be like that, and respects Jeff's manliness even more

annie will give him a hug, say something sweet about how she'll always love him, and worry about his health, because even she read somewhere that taking testosterone makes you more likely to have a heart attack, jeff will explain that the risk is still only as high a cis guy, and she'll be the one to always remind him to take his shots

peirce will say at best say "jeff winger used to be a chick?" and at worst call him a slur, either way there's sure to be a lot of misgendering from him, and pestering to know Jeff's deadname (needless to say, Jeff just doesn't tell peirce)

the whole group goes out of their way to keep their beach trips a secret from pierce (the girls don't want him there anyways, he's too liable to be creepy) even though jeff knows that even if pierce saw his scars, all he would have to do is make up a story about some childhood accident and pierce would never question it

sorry this ended up being super long. can I hear some of your headcanons for him?

YES ALL THIS!!! yes yes i’m fully accepting this as canon oh my god

i’m about to type a whole ass ESSAY at midnight because i have been DYING to talk about this for months ajfdksljk,,, this is going to be obscenely long and i might end up adding even more to it as i continue to rewatch the show because there is truly no shortage of trans jeff content (especially when you’re trans and see transness in every little thing ajdkslfkjs)

spoiler warning for literally everything about this show under the cut <3

i 100% agree, i feel like he realized he was trans super young, especially since in the show we see him as a little kid a couple of times.

like look at little jeff with the oversized sweatshirt and little ponytail!! that’s childhood trans fashion. not to be dramatic but part of me thinks that jeff’s dad left before he fully came out to his family (which gives him even more angst about it, because until that one Thanksgiving episode, he’s never able to prove to his dad that he’s a better man), but part of me thinks that his dad left after he came out (which adds that spicy i-should-have-stayed-in-the-closet guilt that he has to work through).

either way, because his dad wasn’t there, he had to base his concept of masculinity on something else, which was becoming a lawyer!! there’s some line that’s like “after the dust and divorce papers were settled the only man i looked up to was [the lawyer guy]”. like, replacing your father figure in your mind with the concept of “a job where you can talk your way in and out of anything and distort other people’s concept of reality”? that’s trans.

and the fucking THANKSGIVING EPISODE... i struggle to watch it without crying hehe <3 yeowch! the dichotomy of willy jr. being the “wrong” kind of man because he’s “too soft” but jeff also not being enough despite adhering to all the social standards of masculinity... fuck!! this whole scene of him telling his dad “i am Not well adjusted” and talking about how he gave himself an “appendix surgery scar” when he was a kid and he still keeps the get-well-soon letters from his classmates under his bed? oh my god. the implication of people loving him not despite his scars but because of them?? trans. i can’t think about this episode for too long or i’ll start yelling.

OH and this scene? where he talks about how his mom got him a girl costume for halloween?? and everyone said “what a cute little girl” and after a few houses he stopped correcting them?? and “once the shame and the fear wore off, i was just glad they thought i was pretty”?? THAT’S TRANS... the man needs validation oh my god... and then in all the halloween episodes we see he has these ultra-masculine costumes (a cowboy, David Beckham, one of the fast and furious guys even though he never watched the movies, a boxer with his DAD’S boxing gloves... god) costumes are about becoming something else and he always chooses to be hypermasculine and that is trans.

THE PHYSICAL EDUCATION EPISODE!!!!!!! being uncomfortable during P.E. is a queer experience. period. but him being specifically uncomfortable in the clothes someone else is assigning to him? trans. “are we gonna talk about clothes like a girl? or use tapered sticks to hit balls around a cushioned mat like a man?” TRANS. and him eventually stripping in public? celebration of transness. and the fact that he eventually becomes comfortable in both the uniform and his own style!! trans!! god i love this episode.

AND AND AND!!! the gay dean coming out episode!!! where it’s the three of them discussing the best way for the dean to come out as gay despite not entirely identifying with that label!! so we have both frankie and the dean who are sort of ambiguously queer, and jeff who’s a stealth trans man who’s probably only out to only the study group at this point. this scene where the dean and jeff have this like eyebrow communication while frankie is talking is just so cute. queer-to-queer communication. “I am so curious” “oh?” “intellectually.” “oh...” ajfdksljfk this scene just screams high school GSA to me and i love it so much.

and SPEAKING of the dean!! i totally see you on that. i feel like jeff has some internalized homophobia/biphobia (like he’d throw punches over someone else, but when it comes to himself he has a lot of shame). and also seeing the dean so confident in all his different outfits/costumes has a weird affect on him bc it’s like “okay, the dean, a cis guy, can do that, but i as a trans guy could Not because that’s Breaking the Rules”. which, like, throwback to the halloween thing. of course there’s no right way to be masculine, but mr. winger does not know that.

another thing!! the episode where their emails get leaked? that includes his emails with his therapist. fuck!! he was outed to the whole world in that episode!! no wonder he was so fucking angry!! this whole episode (and really any time he mentions his therapist) is so interesting when you think about them as a person he talks to about his transition. OH which adds to the thing with the dean!! “and you told your therapist you wanted to be alone this weekend” and “not you jeff, i know you’ll be visiting your dad” ”I told you to stop reading my emails”. luckily his study group has his back and just makes fun of him for emailing astronauts lmao

and WHO can forget “they’re giving out an award for most handsome young man!!!!” what else is there to say about this line besides: he’s trans. you know he didn’t get awarded enough for being a handsome young man when he was a kid, and no amount of compliments when he’s fully-grown can really make up for that. some people crash a kid’s bar mitzvah to cope with the fact that they struggled to be seen as themselves when they were a teenager <3

also his weird relationship with pierce? where he kind of hates him (understandably lmao) but at times has this almost-friends-almost-father-son relationship with him? especially in this episode where he’s forced to bond with him and ends up having a good time by accident (at a barber shop no less, the perfect place to Be A Man with your Man Friend). idk what to say about him besides the fact that pierce says his mom wanted a girl when he was born and made him dress like a girl (and his middle name is anastasia!) so if they’re gonna do any bonding over transness it’s gonna be that.

okay one last thing and then i’ll shut up for the night. this episode kills me (and almost kills jeff hahahahelpi’mcrying). it’s a very Trans thing to not be able to visualize your future self, it just is. growing up trans at the time he did? i don’t know what kind of future he saw for himself, but i’m so happy that he ended up with a group of friends who became his family and love him the way they all do. i’m so emotional over this asshole it’s ridiculous.

in conclusion:

they’re trans, your honor <3

#community #jeff winger #trans jeff winger #GOD i'm gonna make a video essay about it if nobody stops me #yall know that youtube channel AreTheyGay? i want to be that but AreTheyTrans #the videos would just b like... jeff community. neo the matrix. bill and ted bill and ted. audrey little shop of horrors. jo little women.#maybe i should start that youtube channel sjdfklsj #thank you for prompting me to talk about this because i think about it twice a day #i might end up reblogging this and just adding different responses jeff has had to casually homophobic/transphobic things that happen #in the show #like the episode that last photo is from when the dean is like #'spring transfer student dance isn't rolling off the tongue so we're calling it The Tr@nny Dance!' 'much more greendale.'#OH AND ACCIDENTALLY KILLING PIERCE'S DAD!!! HOW DID I NOT MENTION THAT EARLIER SJFKLSJ #'you LITERALLY killed a father!' 'well not MINE dummy!!'#alright i need to do my homework now ajfklsdjfl

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oopsgracie · 4 years ago

Text

seven

peter parker x avenger!reader

summary: codependence was a weakness, but with seven long, lonely nights without you, Peter Parker may have finally come to a realisation.

warnings: bad words, angst

word count: 5.4K

italics = memory / pov change

Six days and ...3,2,1 eighteen hours.

That was how long it had been since you'd gone missing, almost to the second, or so everybody else thought. They had been the worst six, nearly seven days of Peter's life. And he'd been counting down the minutes ever since.

Until you came home.

It was always cold on the roof of the complex, especially in the night breeze but as it whipped against your cheeks you couldn't help but thank it for giving you some other excuse for the tears, even if you had to wrap Peter's sweater a little more tightly around you than you wanted to. The sky was clear, clearer than normal, and the sheer expanse of it from the soft lights of New York City on one horizon to the shadow of the tree line on the other, helped put things into perspective, that Peter could be mad with you all he wanted and it still wouldn't change the fact that nothing would ever really matter, not in the long run. Deep down you know it still won't change the fact that it hurts when he holds her hand down the school hall or that she's sat in your place at the dinner table just downstairs, with your friends and your family but at least for now you can pretend it does.

Of course clarity like that never lasts very long.

This was apparent from the forceful noise of the roof door that shattered the peace you'd deceived yourself with and of course, a very conflicted looking Peter making a beeline for you.

"Peter I—"

"What y/n? What do you have to say that could make up for any of this?" Here it goes. You'd never fought with him, not unironically before, so the crack that fractured through your heart was a fresh one, a step closer to its breaking point.

"I—"

"For once, sorry and a make up breakfast tomorrow morning isn't going to cut it! Not this time," He took a deep breath to steady his voice. It was beginning to shake and a small part of you ached to just leave this, let jealousy rot through you and save him the agony of having to choose his girlfriend over anything you'd ever promised, which in three years of heartbreak and loss shared between two orphaned teenagers in New York City, where, to remind you, civil duty takes priority over loved ones, you're sure you can imagine is a lot, even if you don't remember every single one.

The accusation in his voice felt like it broke them all.

"Why can't you just be happy for me? What is your problem with her? What have I possibly done to push you this far over the edge that for the first time since— since the Blip at least one of us is finally trying to move on and be happy?" Asshole. Asshole asshole asshole.

"Happy Peter? You want happy?" Your voice was trembling and was carried into the night by the wind that soon picked up. "You think I don't want that for you? For my best friend?" This part of you is seething. And not with the usual anger you'd kept down since HYDRA but the kind that simmers just under your skin, waiting for someone to push you too far or to say the wrong thing that makes it boil over. And he wasn't holding back.

"I don't know do you? Because from the way you spoke to her and refuse to even look me in the eye I cant actually tell if you do. It's not my fucking fault that you're jealous, that you don't have the respect to even hold a civil conversation with her, that you think I can't even hug you anymore because—"

"Because fucking what Peter? I'm jealous? I couldn't give a fuck who's bed you sleep in anymore or that because you have a girlfriend I don't want your affection, it's the fact that you can't even make time for the one person you promised to support above anyone else, that you let her speak to me like i'm some whor—"

"I don't have fucking time to deal with your shit right now! Do you not understand what i'm saying? With schoolwork and spiderman and seeing her I don't have time for you to unload ever—"

"Un-fucking-load? All I wanted was to get a sandwich with you after school! Watch a movie at home even, I couldn't give a fuck what it is we did only that I wanted to spend time with you and I can't help but fucking wonder if i'm even that important to you anymore?"

"Well maybe you aren't."

In every argument you'd ever had, you'd never expected Peter Parker to be the one to desert you. To tell you what you'd known all along.

And you could watch the instant regret bloom on his face a thousand times, as any anger in those eyes you get lost in, softened into sorrow and possibly... fear? but somehow you don't think any of that could change the fact that those words had fallen from his lips.

"y/n— I... i'm so—"

"It's fine you made it pretty clear." But as strong as you wished you were and no matter how neutral you kept your features, the tears kept falling. Because above anyone else on this fucking planet he was supposed to understand how it felt to be alone.

"Please, please I'm so sorry I never meant for that to happe—"

"Peter, leave." you wanted your voice to be steady but you could barely even hear a coarse whisper over the wind that snapped your hair against your shoulders violently and snatched any anger from your voice, leaving it bare for only the pain to be heard. And you hoped he'd listen.

And that was the last thing he'd ever told you. That you meant nothing to him. Only a few hours before you'd walked out and never came home. Home to your bed that he'd slept in ever since because it smelled like you, or home to switch off the music that you'd left playing in the kitchen, home so that he could tell you he was sorry and you were worth every second of every day he'd ever known you. That you were his everything.

At first he'd blamed you, gone downstairs and sat right back next to her without even smearing the tears from his cheeks. He'd thought it was unreasonable and unfair that you'd still expected so much from him when all he did was give, give, give. His time, his love and on a few occasions prepared to give his life. And for what? At seventeen years old. You'd thought the same for a while. That Gwen should be his sole focus after patrol and schoolwork. But as time went on and he fell deeper, even the smiles disappeared when he looked at you and the movie nights with Morgan and training practice that was literally compulsory. Which then made you mad, then sad before jealousy snuck in and poisoned every breath that filled your aching chest. Until it finally imploded.

And left him there, alone with nothing but the pieces of your heart to try and piece together, to find some clue as to where they'd taken you.

But learning how to breathe without you was as far as he'd got.

Mr Stark had taken you in a few years back, when he'd found you cowered in some room with HYDRA, broken and bleeding, at first tucking you away on the 38th floor of Stark tower that eventually became your home until the move, and somewhat Peter's, to find out what you were, what you did and who you worked for. He remembered it so vividly.

"Hey Mr St—" was how he always greeted his only father figure, except this time when he'd arrived at the complex with an overnight bag and a massive ego for the weekend, he'd been confused as to why he'd ended up on the wrong level, graced with the sight of a grubby teenage girl with tangled hair and a slight accent sat on the floor outside what he thought was his bedroom, except that that was three floors down and this room was very much forbidden. You hadn't noticed the elevator open to reveal a gangly teenage boy yet, or else you probably wouldn't be crying so obviously but from the very first quiet sob that had escaped your control, to the night before he'd hurt you so badly that he thought he might never recover, Peter Parker had been with you for what felt like every second.

And for a while that's all you needed.

He'd taught you in the first few weeks what a friend was. He'd made you laugh for the first time in years, taught you how to work a television and patched up any nicks and bruises you sustained from being clumsy. He'd even learned to braid so that he could teach you and attempted a few times to cook you pasta but both of you had been banned from entering the kitchen again ever since. He held your hand through the first day of school and cheered for you when your first report card came home filled in with only straight As. He'd stayed awake while you sobbed into his shirt after nightmares and watched you fall apart over how they treated you, tested you and finally how your life changed when they succeeded in breaking you, leaving you with uncontrollable power you never wanted, only so that he could build you back up when you needed him to and glue every broken piece back together with cuddles and soft words, even with a few nights in his bed where he'd made you watch Star Wars, explaining every scene so many times that you knew it just as well as he did now and forgot your own planet, just for a little while. On bad days he whispered against the crown of your head while you'd both ended up slumped against a wall, how brave you were and how you'd survived this far, "Just another minute", he'd said, "Just hold out another minute and it'll all feel better," for every minute until it worked and your breathing slowed down and you felt safe and supported in the comfort of his embrace.

He'd introduced you to the team, Nat and Bruce first, then Cap and Bucky and everybody else all while Mr Stark kept a watchful eye over how close the two of you became, treating you as he did Morgan and Harley and Peter. Even if you were different. And slightly confused about the way of the world after so many years alone.

It had been some time before you met Wanda. But Peter remembered how your eyes sparked, not with joy, but with a fiery understanding that drew you to her and her to you, sparking a bond forged in shared trauma and a newly lit flame that made you angry, that compelled you to become an example, to train harder, to prove to the rest of the world that HYDRA had not ruined you, nor had they made you, but that what you had suffered at their hands needed to be avenged, a deep desire for an inner sense of justice.

That's what made you an Avenger.

He'd shared his friends with you, introducing you to MJ and Ned and Betty and Harry and even Flash who you'd grown to think of as a more-than-acquaintance despite his selfishness and general asshole-ness. And well, since then your life had been blessed, maybe you weren't completely fixed but the wounds of your past had healed as scars and no longer bled so openly or so frequently. The quiz team accepted you quickly and the group of Peter's friends became yours over time, but he was always your favourite, your best friend. The one person in this world you valued beyond all else, even your own happiness, so when you saw him walk into lunch with his hand in the one and only Gwen Stacey's, you'd grinned and bared the weight of a heavy heart and felt a love so innocent at creation become tainted with resentment that left a bitter taste on your tongue.

And that's when your world collapsed.

The small touches that had become so common slowly withered, even at home, the smiles he saved for the moments when you learned something new or won at his video games he now spent on her when she wore her hair down or his favourite pink skirt, the immediate defence he put up when someone brought up your cluelessness on a word you'd not learned yet or how long it took you to answer an algebra question, were suddenly silenced when they rolled off her tongue and became small flushes of embarrassment or a half-assed, mumbled "hey babe don't you think that's a little harsh?" instead, that left you feeling open and humiliated. Even in the night where you'd sought his familiar warmth for comfort, a reminder that you weren't completely alone, had left you bruised when his arms didn't hold you as tightly anymore.

But it was only once you'd lost him that you realised how he made you feel. His smile that used to mirror yours now lit up the room and his laugh was as sweet as honey, disturbing a warmth in your chest as it dripped of his tongue. The way his curls were mussed in the mornings and the hoarse croak of his nicknamed 'sleepy voice' sent your heart into overdrive as you fixed it all for him with bacon and eggs on good days and a smoothie when you noticed he hadn't eaten enough vegetables the night before. At first you didn't understand why anything had changed, you missed hanging out of course and first you'd blamed the stomach flutters on that, but he'd never stolen your breath before now, with the exception of a fair fight in the gym, but small details like how his bicep sometimes showed under his shirt, gave you a dwindling mercurial high that had never pulsed through your veins before that day, even when he'd had his shirt off so many times before. Wanda had eventually explained that one. That sometimes when girls and boys get older they learn to love each other differently, like Tony and Pepper or her and Vision, in ways that meant more than 'best friend' and that maybe thats what you felt about Peter. You'd taken some time to mull it over but eventually come to the same conclusion.

You loved Peter Parker.

You were in love with Peter Parker.

And tried so hard to keep it a secret, but with tension built by Gwen, and him drifting farther each day it had peaked that night on the roof. That night that he'd wished on every star you always watched since seven days ago he could take back.

But as he broke it off with Gwen forty eight hours ago, shut out his friends and family and now lay tangled in your bedsheets that were beginning to lose the warm familiarity of you, in your favourite of his hoodies sprayed with your staple perfume, he knew he couldn't. It was done. He couldn't bring himself to go downstairs and admit he was so lost without you, that any attempt to conceal how truly his heart had disappeared with you was futile. The hope of seeing you safe was beginning to dwindle as the presence of you faded into old coffee mugs he refused to clean up, sat right where you'd left them down to the scrunchie you'd left on his wrist which remained exactly where it was, because god forbid he take it off to shower, even though deep down he always expected that they would bring you home. Tony had told him a few evenings ago that they figured out what had happened to you, that their tabs on HYDRA made it obvious they'd taken you back, making him sick to his stomach to the point where he'd thrown up the limited contents of his dinner, three times in the last few hours over what they could be doing to you now, to you again, after everything else they'd put you through. Especially now he knew you'd understand what you were missing and how you must feel so betrayed by what he'd said and done.

The only question they really had left to answer was where.

Where had they taken you? And how could he steal you back? But it was much harder to figure out than he'd expected, and with every second causing you more pain than was fathomable to anybody else, made the waiting even worse.

He knew exactly what would be happening, or so he thought. The solitary rooms that would crush the free spirit he had found in you with the same routine day in, day out that he knew you'd find unimaginably unrelentless and of course the constant torture they inflicted upon you in forms of mental and physical desolation and for what purpose? He'd heard you scream before, albeit over a broken bone or night terror, but that raw pain bounced around in his skull now as clear as day and echoed, making that gut wrenching grief and regret twist painfully again so he wound up dry retching in the bathroom for a fourth time, wondering when this torment will end.

When you come home.

That reduced him to tears for a fiftieth time, to the point where he'd wondered if he'd ever run out of them, that this would make him numb to any other pain, because what could go wrong if his worst nightmare had already come true? And a newfound anger flickered behind his eyes, red rimmed from sleepless nights and determination.

Eventually he went down to lab and stood in the doorway, listening to the endless theories Steve posed that Thor argued with and Nat yelled at. He watched Wanda blink back tears and Tony nervously pace from one end of the room to the other to stay calm but Peter noticed he still couldn't stop his hands from shaking as he shoved them in his pockets. He must be just as terrified as Peter felt, unable to comprehend that he could lose another person he loved, let alone his daughter. Bucky fiddled with a pen that he'd used to write down every base he remembered and Bruce was leant against the wall, silent and unmoving. And that wave of nausea rolled back over Peter when he came to the realisation they were getting nowhere. But this time he pushed it down. If this was how they were planning on saving you it would be another seven days before it happened, then another and another and another, especially without his input as the person who knew you best. From every skeleton in your closet you'd exposed to him there must be something in there that could help, a place, a person. So as he stalked round the back of the room, every mouth fell silent and every eye watched him cautiously, seeing him skulking around was all they saw him do now, but only ever alone, too incensed to spend time with the others. He flicked through every page of Bucky's notes until he finally came across the one.

Siberia.

The place of Bucky's torture and the reason for the way you sometimes mispronounced words, unnoticeable to most people but the roll of your 'R's was unmistakable to Peter from the nights you'd whispered against his chest or buried your head in the crook of his neck.

There was a feeling in his gut that told him there.

—————

So a day later that's where they went, and they fought and they bled and they struggled until you were found, unconscious, and for the longest second Peter had thought you were dead, screaming at Tony on the intercom to come and wake you up, until he felt your cold breath against his cheek while he'd cradled you in a heap on the floor whispering sweetly any shaky apology he could think of, waiting for anyone to come and help take you back.

That was the way it had been for another seven days.

You, unmoving, in the infirmary after the best doctors had pronounced you comatose as a result of sustained and undiagnosed injury to the frontal lobe.

The moon was bright and still in the velvet night, lighting the way down the empty hallway that lead to your hospital-like room where, from behind a closed door, the steady beep of your heartbeat echoed clearly in the silence, matching his although he'd never know that. He'd had his duvet and pillow in hand, despite being forced to get some rest in his own bed by the others, but the knowledge that you were right there and still alone sat uneasily in the pit of his stomach, hatching a plan to come down later, aka now, when everybody else was asleep and exhausted from a flight to Russia and back, and the week of worry your absence had carved into everyone's lives. But it wasn't over yet and that made Peter want to scream. They'd taken you from him once and now, you might be slipping away for the final time, not knowing that he could never love anyone as much as you.

It was then his spider sense prickled and every instinctual alarm inside him blared, that this time nobody would lay a finger on you, but the fight not flight triggered by the opening door faded into a sharp heartbeat when a tired looking Tony, with bags under his eyes as black as Peter's, emerged with a look of plain shock, that slackened to understanding when he recovered from the initial surprise of seeing a small, pale boy stood about twenty feet away from him, clutching his space themed bedding like a lifeline and looking like death was one step away with a drawn complexion and a sag in his shoulders, blinking like a deer caught in headlights.

"Hey kid," he sighed, and a breath of relief spread through Peter. So he wasn't going to send him back upstairs.

"Hey Mr Stark, is she okay?" the worry was still evident in his voice but Tony noticed a slight, albeit saddened smile tug at the corner of Peters mouth that he hadn't seen in more than a week. And that relieved him, if only slightly.

"Yeah Pete she'll be okay," he smiled "...she just needs time," And he ruffled Peters hair playfully, making that smile bloom into a dull laugh that bounced off the apex roof. It was a start. "Go ahead, I know she never likes to be alone," and Peter did, for the next six nights, he chose your floor over any mattress, and he'd do it again. He won't admit it but he spent more time crying over you and matching his breathing to yours in any attempt to alleviate the jarring sobs that racked his chest, than he did sleeping, but it was still a few hours more than he'd got while you were gone, so he was grateful for that much, and obviously he'd thanked the stars you loved to watch that you would no longer be under their control, only his, and the doctors orders.

He did that until today. Where after his first day home from school, that he'd avoided like the plague while you were gone, he had drawn a chair up next to you and was detailing how Ned and him were going to build the new Lego model Millennium Falcon in a few days and how much love the group had sent you, even Flash, rather excitedly. That was until the hand he held in his, rubbing over your knuckles in soft little circles, suddenly twitched and the colour of your eyes became visible through slits.

"Y/n?" he'd gasped breathlessly, still not allowing himself the freedom to hope that this could be true and over and that he could sleep in a real bed tonight but most importantly that it would be nestled against you and Star Wars and maybe Morgan if she promised not to get scared of the Sith. These dreams had rattled endlessly in circles around his head, in his sleep, even invading the zoned-out-space you go when you stare out the window in math class, but he'd pushed them so far ahead of the curve it became a sphere, and they came right back around the next night, feeling like a sucker punch to the stomach when he'd awake in a cold sweat with clammy cheeks. But this time... this time they might finally come true.

And he can make it right.

And as he watched you blink a few times, the spark you once had long extinguished, he couldn't ignore the ache he still felt but vowed to help you light it once again, you gripped his hand like a vice and he smiled inwardly over how strong you'd remained, in more ways than just how hard you squeezed him, and as new sets of tears rolled down your cheeks he wiped every one dry, too stunned to speak so he peppered you with forehead kisses and gentle hugs that did all the talking, your head against his chest feeling the exact same way it used to. He'd told FRIDAY to get Mr Stark and the others, but wanted this moment to last so he closed his eyes, breathed in the smell of your hair and held you together.

—————

Even a few days later your memory was hazy. You'd thought Peter's room was yours and slept in his bed by accident, you couldn't remember how you got home and had no real idea of who Pepper was which frightened Morgan a little at first, but the doctors had assured them with solemn nods that the memories would be back and that detachment was a common coping mechanism among trauma patients. And, over the course of the next seven days, it slowly trickled back feeling as tangible as water for a while until it began to materialise again, with encouragements of "That's my girl!" from Tony and a tearful 'reunion' with Pepper and hugs from everyone you knew, and some you didn't remember yet. The names of your friends, what your favourite song was and finally, in the middle of the night while you watched the strange boy you always, always knew you loved, sleep peacefully, the steady rise and fall of his solid chest a comfort against your cheek, the words that melted from his soft lips like poison struck you right through the heart, that you were so unable to fit into his life that he'd let you walk away, and left an earth shattering rift between your twin souls in the wake.

That thought made you physically draw back, it felt like a sting, a mockery of every soft spoken sentence he'd mumbled and the way he held your hand under the dining table was suddenly unconvincing. His duvet abruptly didn't feel very reassuring and so, as you had before, although you couldn't quite pinpoint the details from the last time you did this, you left into the night alone. This time only onto the roof again, partly as a reminder, a way of gaining clarity on the fuzzy memory swimming around somewhere just out of reach, as the Doctors had told Tony on the sofa just inside, that places and faces would help clear up any confusion, if you could physically see the setting it had happened, but also because you hadn't seen the stars in so many weeks it felt wrong to be anywhere else.

And all you were doing when once again Peter shattered your silence, this time breathing rapidly, his cheeks drained of colour and the telltale trace of panicked tears that shone under the starlight, was looking up. He didn't say anything, completely understanding what had happened, what you were piecing together and instead hesitantly brushed his hand over yours that was rested on the railing. You let him.

Maybe minutes, maybe hours later, you heard a broken...

“I'm so sorry,"

... ricochet through the dark, and it finally broke you. You hadn't cried since the day you came back, but knowing that it was true and they hadn't put that thought in there made you question everything for a second.

But only a second.

Because shortly after, everything else came crashing down, the braids, the pasta, the hugs and the school days and your friends and Peter, the real Peter that could never hate a bone in your body, the one that stood by your side now and for always.

And suddenly you couldn't keep it down anymore.

You didn't know why you had to in the first place yet, Gwen Stacey not taking up enough brain capacity to be worth remembering, but you knew that now the time was finally right to tell him how you felt. Wanda had told you you'd know and as the moon washed over the brush of his hair, and hollowed the depth of his cheekbones and reflected so slightly in the tears that had caught in his eyelashes, you just knew.

"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"I— i like you," you whispered, almost ashamedly with deep red cheeks graced with the flush of embarrassment at being so transparent with your 'best friend'.

"I like you too," he smiled back breathily, taking your hand finally and squeezing it three times.

"No I mean—"

"I know what you mean," he interrupted, trying to hide a smile by tucking his head down, taking a deep breath.

“But Pete—“

“—I think I love you y/n,” he whispered at the same time. He’d told you he’d loved you before, but the erratic heart palpitations set this time apart from the others, making a smile tug at the corner of your lips, unnatural feeling from disuse but genuine, and it sent a wave of courage through Peter.

“I— I'm so sorry y/n, so sorry that I won't ever be able to tell you how much. While you were g—gone I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't even breathe sometimes because the fact that you weren't there, and your last memory of me might have been that, tore me up so bad in ways you can't ever understand, and it made me realise, that all along, especially that night, i'd been so in love with you that I was so in denial that the only way I knew how to fix it was to push you away and also—“ he was rambling, the nerves evident in the edge of his voice, so you placed a finger against his lips and brushed the messy hair from his forehead, leaving your favourite curl in its place before meeting his wide eyed gaze with a sharp breath of anticipation.

“I forgive you,"

"Wait really? 'cause I thought—"

"And I love you too,"

Before you formed a single thought, he was catching your bottom lip between his and despite his super strength, he cradled one half of your face in gentle disbelief, the yellow edges of an aged bruise bleeding from between his fingers where he touched you softly, reassuring himself this was real. The warmth of his mouth against yours slowly beginning to knit over every wound and you felt the cool tinge of peace on the horizon as you moulded your lips with his. When he pulled away he’d had a smug look in those round doe’s eyes and a smirk that tugged against his upper lip.

“What Parker?” you breathed, leaning your forehead against his.

But he just grinned, thinking of the stars as they finally aligned and shone down on the two of you. And they hadn’t budged since.

—————

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