#but that wallowing feeling of eating alone in bed. it makes it so much worse to me

[skitskatdacat63]

Spoilers, but why is the most heartwrenching scene in Anatomy of a Fall that brief part where she's eating in bed alone, watching the news accuse her of being a murderer and a terrible, deceptive person, digging through her private life and making assumptions. IT MAKES ME SO SAD.

[cuddlepilefics]

Surprise visit @12daysofchristmas

(DAY10)

Surprise visit

Lighting scented candles

„I didn’t know you were here.”

“You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?”-Christmas with the Kranks

@whumpcember : 23 overwhelmed

Fandom: BTS

Sickie: Taehyung

Caregiver: BTS

No one’s POV.:

To say that the end of the year wasn’t going Taehyung’s way, would’ve been an understatement. He hadn’t really been the same after Yeontan’s passing and despite making plans with some of the members, he didn’t feel like going out at all. Taehyung wasn’t stupid, he could tell that he was spiraling into depression and that withdrawing wouldn’t help, so he was determined to not cancel on any of his friends because he didn’t feel like being around people. His plan was foiled when he woke up one morning to his nose completely blocked and a pounding headache right behind his eyes. No, this was not going his way at all.

When Taehyung checked his temperature and confirmed the fever he had already suspected, he knew was even more relieved that he hadn’t had plans for the day. Skipping breakfast, he prepared a cup of tea before shuffling back to bed and curling up under his blanket. Maybe he could use this illness as an excuse to not see anyone. The members would get worried for his mental health if he cancelled on them because he didn’t feel like going out but if he was actually, physically sick they might be grateful if he didn’t spread it to them.

As the hours passed and Taehyung’s fever rose, he slowly started to change his mind. Did he actually want to be alone? He wasn’t so sure about that all of a sudden but what could he do? The other members were probably busy, so he didn’t want to disturb anyone. With his emotions all over the place, Taehyung went from crying to sleeping and back before sitting up with a sigh. Already close to lunchtime, he decided that he couldn’t wallow in self-pity all day. He was old enough to take care of himself. Though he had no appetite, he trudged to the kitchen and forced down an apple. An apple a day keeps the doctor away, right? Now that he had something in his stomach, he could take something for the fever and hopefully, he’d feel a little less miserable soon.

The rest of the day passed in a similar fashion with Taehyung not really finding the energy to get out of bed. His phone had buzzed a few times but he had ignored it because the screen hurt his sore eyes. He hadn’t expected the following night to be so much worse though. With how much he had been napping throughout the day, Taehyung was unable to get much rest that night and had to witness the slow decline of his condition. His blocked nose was soon accompanied by a painful cough that made it even harder to fall asleep and the dull ache all over his body slowly turned to a burning pain in his muscles. The medicine wasn’t doing nearly as much as he had hoped, so Taehyung was upset that he had forced himself to eat some canned soup for dinner in order to take medicine.

By the next morning, Taehyung couldn’t take it anymore. He was feeling worse by the minute and called his physician’s practice as soon as it opened for the day. Too dizzy to drive himself, he had to call a taxi and already felt winded just from getting downstairs. Yeah, he really had to get some help. If he kept coughing like this, he soon wouldn’t have any voice left. Exhausted, Taehyung almost fell asleep during the drive there and weakly shuffled to the elevator, barely noticing the way he swayed while walking.

With their friend not responding to any of their messages, the members soon grew worried, knowing the second youngest had been having a hard time lately. Jimin eventually went over to Taehyung’s place to check on him and got scared when nobody opened. He let himself into his best friend’s apartment and searched for the younger but no one was home. With Namjoon on the phone, Jimin informed that Taehyung wasn’t there but that his place looked different from theirs. He was the only member who hadn’t decorated for Christmas and while it wasn’t messy, it also didn’t look like he put in an effort to keep it tidy.

Thinking it might cheer Taehyung up if his place was all cozy, the members hatched a plan. Each of them pitched in with a bunch of Christmas decorations and in no time, Taehyung’s apartment looked completely transformed. Hoseok even brought a cinnamon scented candle, which he lit on the coffee table to fill the place with a warm, sweet scent. They had no idea when their friend would be back, hell, they didn’t even know where he was, but it sure startled them when the front door suddenly clicked.

Drained from his trip, Taehyung closed the door and weakly slumped back against it, mind hazy. At first, he didn’t notice his friends at all, startling when he saw a movement from the corner of his eye. “You’re skipping Christmas! Isn’t that against the law?”, Jimin asked accusatory, gesturing to the now sparkling living room, “Wait, are you okay? Why are you crying?” - “I didn’t know you were here”, Taehyung sniffled, feeling increasingly weak in the knees. Shakily sliding down with his back against the front door, he held his head in his hands and winced when a cold hand touched his neck. Jimin cursed as he felt his best friend’s skin burn under his touch, cooing: “When did you get that nasty fever, Taetae?”

Taehyung’s reply came unintelligibly muffled and by the time Jimin got him to repeat himself, Seokjin was kneeling by their side. “Why didn’t you let anyone know you fell ill? I could’ve come by yesterday to bring you soup and medicine”, the eldest hummed, gently lifting his dongsaeng’s chin. Taehyung looked up at him with glossy eyes and rasped: “I didn’t wanna bother any of you. You were probably busy, so I tried to jus’ sleep.” – “Never too busy for you, Tae”, Jimin sighed as he petted the other’s hair, “Come on, let’s get you off the floor. Do you think you can stand?”

The younger swayed a little when he was hoisted to his feet but Seokjin and Jimin managed to manhandle him to the couch, so he’d be more comfortable. Letting Taehyung lay down with his head in his lap, Jungkook gently played with the other’s hair and smiled: “What were you up to just now? None of us could get a hold of you, so we got worried.” – “Went to the doctor’s”, Taehyung whispered, closing his eyes as he relaxed into the affectionate touch. “Oh dear, what did he say?”, the maknae hummed, resting his palm against Taehyung’s feverish forehead when he noticed how much comfort it seemed to bring him.

Yoongi brought a washcloth to trade with Jungkook’s hand and frowned when Taehyung whispered: “Told me to stay hydrated and get lots of sleep. ‘s probably something flu-like, so I should take it easy even when I’m on the mend.” – “Well, we can work with that”, Yoongi said with a soft smile, “Did you get medicine?” With a hoarse hum of confirmation, Taehyung patted his pocket. “Is there anything specific you’re hungry for? Otherwise, I’ll just make some soup”, Seokjin offered, grateful for their surprise visit. Their dongsaeng wouldn’t have reached out, so they were lucky to have found him.

With Taehyung not hungry in the slightest, the eldest decided to prepare a pot of soup for the group to share, while the other members tried to make him as comfortable as possible. Namjoon had collected Taehyung’s duvet from the bedroom and Hoseok dimmed the light, so the room was only illuminated by the decorations they had hung up as to not aggravate their friend’s headache. Jimin joined Seokjin in the kitchen for a bit, brewing a pot of tea. It was no secret how wrecked Taehyung’s voice tended to get when he had as much as a little cold, so this really had to be taking a toll on his throat.

"Here's some tea. I bet your throat hurts", Jimin smiled as he placed the cup on the coffee table. Tiredly blinking up at the other, Taehyung breathed: "Thank you for the surprise visit. You wouldn't have needed to decorate but you have no idea how grateful I am that you're here."

[28gaugeshotgunshells]

may i please request some carol peletier fic ?

something angsty pretty pls

“i can’t keep acting like i don’t see something is wrong with you?” carol to reader

Two Drifters

S5! Carol Peletier x GN! Reader

angst, a little over 1k words

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I can't keep acting like I don't see that something's wrong with you." ----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being in Alexandria was mind boggling. No more than three days ago had you been cold and starving, lucky to get a little water to drink let alone shower in it, constantly having the ravenous flesh eating infected on your trail. Yet now you found yourself fretting over what to wear to a party. It was almost completely insane to you how different your world had been from the people inside these walls.. How you were expected to just, integrate seamlessly into this community. You didn't think you could ever let go of the horrors you experienced out there; did you even want too?

Your lover leans back on the doorway, arms folded neatly over her chest as her eyes look you over. "Have you picked something out yet?" She asks, her tone soaked in a gentleness reserved for just a few.

"No." Your reply is short and straight to the point, you'd rather wallow in your own misery of moving on than talk to anyone.

Yet now your mind was on her.

Carol.

You loved her, and yet.. you'd grown to feel so distant from her. The both of you were so close at the prison, and then terminus and post-terminus had put you through the gutter. Now it felt like Alexandria was going to be the complete and utter kiss of death for your relationship.

Nowadays she never let you in on what was on her mind, and she kept acting weird. You got the impression she was starting to hide things from you, maybe she already had been. One thing was for sure, she had to be scheming something.

Or maybe the paranoia you'd developed originally to help you survive was starting to seep into everything you thought about. "Well," Carol approaches you from behind, arms falling from her chest to relax at her side for a moment before they raise up again and wrap around your midriff. Shortly after she embraces you from behind, you feel her chin rest on your shoulder. "The yellow one seems like it'd suit you." She practically purrs in your ear. You look at the one she recommends you, laying slightly ruffled on the bed below. It'd suit you huh? Such a pale, innocent shade of yellow.. something as so could never suit you, not with how dirtied you'd become. Even so, you'd worn worse than a color that was too good for you; the yellow would do just fine. "Yeah, sure." You reply dismissively, breaking away from her seemingly affectionate hold in order to grab the top below. She calls out your name, and you acknowledge it barely with a nod of your head. This however clearly isn't a good enough response for her as she calls out your name once more.

"Look at me." Her whisper to you borders on the edge of being a desperate plea.

"Why?" You murmur back, countenance scrunched up defensively sad.

"Because, I can't keep acting like I don't see that something's wrong with you." Her answer comes out in a raised voice, her frustration coming out of her love for you. The care she holds for your well-being.

You stand there, not stunned but epiphanized.

CRASH

You finally turn around to Carol, just barely seeing her concern for a lover melt into a much more serious expression.

"What was that?" You ask in a cautiously lowered tone. "I don't know, but it sounded like a window breaking downstairs." She mutters, wasting no time on reaching back and pulling the knife from her jean pocket.

You follow slowly behind her as she stalks out of the upstairs bedroom and down the stairs, you're both careful to not accidentally make anything creak. When you finally safely reach the bottom it's revealed that the living room window was the source of the crash. Shards are sprawled all out across the table below the window as well as the floor, a larger rock was also on the ground.. whoever had done this must've thrown it through.

What the hell?

As you slowly start to come out of your thoughts, you notice Carol's left your side and is now approaching the kitchen, where you can now hear quiet noises of shuffling around. You take in a breath as you prepare for anything.. picking up stepping behind Carol again.

And then you see it.

THAT ONE RANDOM LITTLE BOY!

"Sam?!" Carol exclaims, in confusion and annoyance.

THAT LITTLE SHIT WAS DIGGING INTO THE COOKIES CAROL HAD JUST MADE!! THERE WAS CRUMBS ALL OVER HIS MOUTH AND EVERYTHING! HALF OF THE COOKIES WERE ALREADY GONE!!

"THOSE WERE FOR THE PARTY YOU BASTARD BITCH!" Carol shouts.

"daddy says only women can be bitches.." Sam says back.

"UM!?!?" YOU EXCLAIM.

"GIVE ME THOSE COOKIES!!" Carol goes to rescue the food but then Sam quickly shoves every last one in his mouth and swallows them whole.

"WHAT THE FUCK! WHOS KID IS THIS!!" You scream, your hands flying up to hold your head in shock.

"Sam!! Why did you break into our house!? WHY DIDN'T YOU JUST KNOCK ON THE DOOR DAMMIT!!" Carol asks all mad.

"Tip toe... through the window..." Sam replies.

"OHH SO YOU'RE THE ONE BLASTING THAT SONG AT 3AM AND INTERRUPTING MY FUCKING SLEEP." You shout.

"oh uh uhohh uh I gotta.. I gotta poop." Sam says, "better out than in." And his face scrunches up.

"NOT ON MY FLOOR SAM! NOT ON THE FLOOR!" Carol yells.

and then you proceed to hear the loudest fart ever its so huge your eardrums almost pop! IT WAS SO INSANE NUCLEAR!! and then the second wave hit.. the smell.. it was so bad.. like a million dead walkers covered in poop and fish.. you could've died from the smell..

but then you remember.. that you're actually allergic to farts.. oh no...

Carol turns around sadly and in shock because she knows you can die from smelling a fart.. and this one was so bad.. "(name).. no.. hold on..."

You fall to the floor..

Sam waves the fart stench away from his nose. "Phew hoo boy that's a stinky sally if I've ever smelled one."

YOU DIE!! CAROL FALLS TO THE GROUND AND VIOLENTLY CRIES. "NOW I SEE THAT SOMETHING IS REALLY WRONG WITH YOU!!" SHE SHOUTS

meanwhile

Distantly Jessie is doing the dishes and she hears the echo of a really bad fart.

"Uh oh I think that was a Sam fart.." She says to Ron beside her.

"that shit stinky." Ron replies.

[paranormals-of-ilvermorny]

Chapter 19

Late.

They were too late.

Somehow during the months between Robin first seeing the monster to them just discovering a lost bracelet, a student was able to find themselves see their final moments at the claws of a Skinwalker. They lost a student, at the hands of a monster that should never have been able to get onto school grounds in the first place, and not one member of the school knows about it. It caused more guilt than stealing from the cookie jar, or failing a test you very well could have studied for. Lorelei laid in her bed, despite it being well past noon on a Sunday, bedridden with guilt.

She was so made at herself, how for weeks now she could have told the students of the dangers of the woods. She should have told everyone to be in their dorms by sundown, or directly after dinner. Moreover, she felt she would have pushed the headmaster more to hear her concerns and do something about them rather than stop. Maybe if there were signs posted around the castle about how treacherous the surrounding forest was, students would be happily going into them without a care in the world that something might be out to hurt them. Mostly Lorelei just wishes she could go back in time and save the student that no one seems to know is missing.

It had been days since the Quodpot game where the girls found the bracelet in the woods. The first thing Lorelei did when they got back to the warm castle was hide herself under her blue quilt, wishing she had never left in the first place. Ever since she would go to class, do her homework, eat her meals, then come right back to bed like a hibernating bear.

The squeak of the dorm’s door alerted Lorelei that someone was entering the room, probably one of her roommates that forgot a textbook or something.

“Lorelei?” Came the soft-spoken voice of Robin. “Can I come in?”

Her friend’s gentle tone surprised her, always used to the energized sports player, it took her a second to realize it was even her. Turning over so she could better face Robin, Lorelei let only her eyes and the tip of her nose be exposed by the unforgiving chill of the room. The movement gave Robin enough relief to know her friend was still in bed and awake.

“Hey toots,” She greeted, slowly making her way to Lorelei’s bed.

“Hi,” Lorelei returned, quiet and muffled from the blanket.

Robin took a seat, the bed sinking a bit from the added weight. They sat in the darkness for a minute, simply enjoying the other’s presence after so long apart. It gave Lorelei the time to think about how she had basically forgotten about Robin while she wallowed in grief, only making her feel worse. Feeling her friend sink deeper into herself, Robin broke the silence.

“Your roommates are worried about you.” She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, the same way someone would comment on the sky being cloudy. That was one of the things Lorelei loved most about her, she could make the hardest conversations simple despite the topic. “I know you don’t talk to them much,” she continued, “but a lot of us care about you, even if you don’t feel it.”

That stung, tears brimming Lorelei’s eyes that she willed to go away. She doesn’t regret for a moment telling Robin about her previous school experiences, including the loneliness she felt. But sometimes when she says something so nice and sincere, Lorelei wishes she didn’t know. More than that, she wishes she was never so alone in the first place, then maybe sweet sentiments like people who she has never spoken five words to caring about her wouldn’t turn her into such a crying mess.

“Lorelei, I’m worried about you too.” That made her heart swell, again tearing up from the foreign feeling of being cared for. “Staying in bed this long isn’t healthy. I’m not saying you need to join a nudist club that runs around in the woods, especially not in this weather.” That made her smile, “I just wanna know how I can help make this a little less harder for you. I wish I could take away your pain and make everything right in that head of yours. I hate seeing you like this, ‘Lei.”

Now the tears were streaming freely down her face, wiping her face on the soft quilt. She knew her actions were affecting others, she just didn’t realize other people were hurting because she was in pain herself. Lorelei decided to be brave, in her own way, and moved to sit up in bed so she could be face to face with Robin.

“There she is,” she said, with gentle blue eyes and a soft smile on her lips. “I thought I’d never see those beautiful brown eyes again.” Lorelei laughed, drying her face of stray tears and a runny nose, feeling a little better as she started to come back to herself. Robin casted ‘accio tissue’ and handed it over, which Lorelei took gratefully.

“I’m sorry,” she said, looking at the crumpled tissue in her hands, “it's just…something hit me after finding that bracelet.” She swallowed around the knot in her throat, making it difficult to speak. “Knowing that there was a student who could have been out for a stroll in the woods, maybe looking for flowers or mushrooms, and was attacked or even killed by a monster without anyone knowing they’re missing,” the tears started to roll down her cheeks again, Robin offering another tissue. “It just made me realize how that could have been me. If I didn’t have you, I could have been out in the woods, and would have been attacked by something that terrified me to the core. I could go missing, and not one person would ever know.”

Robin, who had been listening to her friend’s watery rant and letting her speak her feelings, finally had to say something. “You know that’s not true. For starters, you do have me, and like it or not you always will. Second, what about your parents? Or your roommates? What about all of the teachers that use you as an example for how to perfectly brew Wiggenweld Potion or how to perfectly cast ‘Alarte Ascendare’? Not to mention your freakin’ parents!

Now that made Lorelei laugh, the first time in a while. It felt good. “There are so many more people that care about you that you don’t even know about. So don’t ever for a second think that you could go missing without the whole castle joining in a search party ever again.” Robin grabbed Lorelei’s hand, holding it between her own, and looking in her eyes. “I love you. You’re my sister, and I don’t let anyone mess with my sisters.”

For maybe the hundredth time in the span of the last hour, Lorelei’s eyes brimmed with tears, but these were a much happier kind. “Thank you. That means everything to me, and you know it.” Drying her tears, Lorelei felt ten times lighter, but still felt she needed to get something off her chest. “I also just feel so guilty. Like, if I could have somehow alerted the whole castle of what we found, then maybe this wouldn’t have happened. I wanna make things right for whoever we lost out there.”

“You don’t think I’m not upset about that? Lei’, I was brimming with rage when I ran back and found you with that bracelet in your hand.” Now this surprised Lorelei, feeling like she was the only one to have been affected by their discovery. “I thought that stupid monster killed or hurt someone and we didn’t get a chance to know for certain. I felt like we screwed up and had a duty to protect the school since we’re the only ones who know there’s danger in the woods. When I saw what you were holding, and seeing how sad you were, I saw red. I was so angry that someone got hurt because of something we could have prevented.”

“But you couldn’t have prevented it,” Lorelei tried to reason.

“I know that,” Robin countered, “now. But at the time I thought I could change things.”

“Like I do right now?” Questioned Lorelei, to which Robin nodded her head.

“Besides,” she said, “we don’t know for one hundred percent that whoever owned the bracelet was killed.” Robin, never one to stay still for very long, stood up from the bed. She walked over to Lorelei’s bedside table and picked up the bracelet, giving it an examination before continuing. “So, maybe someone could have just lost it. And we also don’t know who that someone is, considering it’s not very dirty, they might still be in school. I say, we fight our guilt. We can keep reaching out to past students who have been attacked, that way we can gather information and start a record of who, what, and where.”

“And maybe we could put up posters around the castle for the lost bracelet,” offered Lorelei, feeling a little better about things. “Try and see if anyone recognizes it, or knows who it belongs to.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed, “we can even wait outside the exam halls and ask every student that leaves if they’ve ever seen it before.”

Exams, as in midterm exams. Lorelei completely forgot about the yearly midterm exams, apparently too consumed in her quilted prison to remember. The realization must have registered on her face, because Robin was quick to dissuade any anxiety about the upcoming tests.

“Hey, stay with me alright?” She crouched in front of Lorelei, who now loathed the navy and silver blanket of her bed. “Here’s the plan: we help each other study for midterms, you refresh your super smart brain, and I can relearn everything I should have but didn’t. Then, over winter break we can split up the list of names to write to so we can continue our research after New Years. Okay?”

Astonished by the strategic side of Robin that she must have reserved for the Quod pitch, Lorelei was once again extremely grateful for her friend sister. “How did I ever get so lucky to find you?”

“Ha, please,” she laughed, “what other shy smarty pants was I supposed to annoy? I could never be one of Claire’s goons, that’s for sure.” The two girls shared a laugh, Lorelei happy to feel herself brightening up more than before. She was just shy of being herself again, but was missing something.

“I love you too, ya know. You’re my sister just as much as I am yours.” This made Robin smile, warm and big.

“Could we go for a walk around the castle?”

Grinning wildly, mirth shining in her eyes as she responded. “Of course!” She ran over to the door which she entered from, calling over her shoulder “Be sure to bundle up, it's still pretty cold around the cellars,” before she was gone again.

Dressing as she was told, Lorelei felt warmer than she originally thought possible, knowing she had a partner in crime like Robin. It warmed her to know she wasn’t as alone as she thought she was, and will never be forgotten again.

The next day the girls started rereading their notes from the past few months, quizzing each other every now and then when completed. This went on for a few weeks before the exams took place. Regularly they found themselves in a corner of the library since the Horned Serpent’s common room became too congested with other students also looking for a quiet place to study.

Not all professors were the same, thus neither were their tests. History of Magic was a multiple choice exam made up of one hundred-thirty two questions, such as when was MACUSA established? 1693. What was the cause? The Salem Witch Trials. The girls would test each other frequently to remember the dates of important historical events in wizarding history.

“What law ended in 1965?”

“Uh, Rappaport’s law!”

“Good. What event caused MACUSA headquarters to be relocated from Washington to New York?”

“Ugh, I don’t know this one!”

“Yes you do. Just take your time.”

“Hmm… Oh! The Great Sasquatch Rebellion of… 1893?

“Close, 1892.”

“Dang It!”

There were also the more tactile exams like turning a textbook into a hare for Transfigurations. Lorelei completed the task fairly easily, but Robin needed some help, her book still had floppy ears that might get her an ‘Acceptable’ but she really needed a high grade to pass the class. With a little more work, they were able to get the ears to go away, the book left with the smallest cottontail, which was a great improvement. Defense Against The Dark Arts was another lengthy exam, but unlike History it was open ended and students didn’t have the luxury of other possible answers.

“What is the difference between a normal and chameleon ghoul?”

“A chameleon ghoul can transform into everyday objects to avoid detection while a normal ghoul cannot.”

“Yep. What spell identifies a cursed object and how is it performed?”

“Tap the object three times whilst saying ‘Specialis Revelio’.”

“Correct. What should you cast against a wizard trying to harm someone?”

“Uh… ‘Incarcerous’?”

“I’ll allow it. I also would have accepted ‘Stupify’.”

After feeling comfortable in those areas, the girls decided to read up on their notes from Charms and Magizoology. Thankfully, the professors said they would only be asking one question for their exams which are expected to be answered in sixty-two inch essays. Robin was looking up charms and their counter charms, while Lorelei spent her time researching three animals they learned about in the past months enough to describe their behavior and habitats.

Overall, they were feeling pretty confident about their upcoming exams, as well as what they will be accomplishing over the winter break.

[iwritesickfic]

could you write a story for any of your male OC when they feel nauseous in the morning but still stubbornly continuing their activities? thank you^^

Sure, thanks anon!

Even though Theo's been sober for over a year now, he wakes up hungover. At least it feels like a hangover. He considers for a second that maybe he blacked out, but he's positive he was home all night. Still, his head is absolutely pounding, and there's an uneasy, sick feeling in his stomach. He can feel it in his throat too.

He rolls over and buries his head in the pillow, as if it'll help. It doesn't. He takes a few moments to wallow in his discomfort before forcing himself up and out of bed. He has too much shit to do today.

There's meetings all morning, and an award show tonight. He has hair and makeup and wardrobe, then the carpet, then the actual show. Then an after-party a club in midtown. He probably won't be home tonight until 3 or 4 in the morning, and the thought alone makes his stomach feel even worse.

Worst of all, Seamus is not here. He's flying back from LA and he won't get in until about 2 AM, so Theo has to do everything by himself.

With any luck, the nausea and headache will go away once he has some food and takes an ibuprofen. He's not feeling particularly lucky.

His meetings are all video calls, but there are about five of them back to back, and he'll need to be awake and paying attention and looking presentable for all of them. He wolfs down some crappy scrambled eggs, ibuprofen, and coffee before the first meeting, but it doesn't seem to help. If anything, it's just getting worse. His stomach is cramping now, his head throbbing behind his eyes. Staring at the screen is pure torture, and he's tempted to put some sunglasses on, but he just lowers the brightness as much as he can and sips the peppermint tea Seamus always makes him drink when he's nauseous, even though it never seems to work that well.

In the middle of meeting four, the nausea spikes, and he knows he's about to vomit.

"Excuse me for one second," he says, voice wavering, before rushing to the bathroom. He makes it just in time, not even kneeling down before throwing up into the toilet bowl. When he's done, he's shaking all over, dizzy and exhausted. His head still hurts, but his stomach seems to have calmed down, which is a relief. He rinses his mouth as quickly as he can before walking back to where his laptop is perched on the coffee table.

He's half asleep for the rest of the meeting, just nodding along to whatever's said, and by the time meeting five rolls around, his stomach has started to churn again.

Still, he tries to ignore it, even as every sip of tea makes him want to gag. Every time he speaks he's afraid he's going to puke, but he manages to make it through without having to take another break. That said, by the time he closes his computer, he's in a cold sweat and shivering from trying to hold back the urge to throw up.

The second trip to the bathroom doesn't make him feel that much better, but at least he's no longer on the verge of puking. He has a half hour before the hair and makeup people arrive, but he knows better than to try and eat. He drinks a little more tea and takes more ibuprofen, but right as the whole crew is arriving, he throws it back up.

He's sure he looks terrible, but the stylists don't mention it. He barely speaks. His stomach hurts too much, his head is throbbing too hard. he can't even think straight, let alone put together a sentence.

The next thing he knows, he's on the red carpet, and his stomach feels the worst it has all day. The feeling of his waistband against his bloated stomach is hell, and he's actively having to swallow the bile he feels rising in the back of his throat. By the end of the carpet, he's sure if he opens his mouth he'll be projectile vomiting everywhere, but luckily for him, he manages to hold it back until he finds the bathroom inside the venue.

He's sure his stylist would be appalled if they knew he was kneeling on a bathroom floor in his thousand dollar suit pants, but Theo can't be bothered to care. He's too busy puking up the gatorade he drank in the car. His fever is only going up, and he wishes more than anything that he could just go home and get out of this suit and curl up in one of Seamus's sweatshirts, but can't. He's stuck here til midnight, then he'll have to show his face at the after party. The thought makes him want to cry, but he just wipes his chin and gets back up to face the rest of the night from hell.

[gnattyplayssims]

1927 Pt2 - Birth of the Twins

The twins made their appearance late one spring night. David was so worried that he barely left Elena's side through whole evening. He tried reading books to distract her but it didn't seem to help much. Finally they came right as the sun was coming up.

Rachel came first with Reuben following shortly after. David nervously came to greet them. "Hi there, Reuben. Wow, you are just perfect."

Elena was cradling Rachel quietly. She looked exhausted and David reached to take the baby from her arms before she dropped her.

"You did amazing" David cooed as Elena stepped away from the bassinet. "Darling?" Elena stumbled and he barely caught her as she lost conciousness. "Elena? Darling wake up. Don't you dare leave me. Not after everything." He held her close and called out "Lizzie, fetch the doctor"

Soon Elena was resting in the bed but had yet to wake. Alone in the room with her David began to spiral. "This is all my fault. I never should have allowed you to feel like I needed a baby of my own to be happy. We never should have tried so hard. Don't you dare leave me now."

He pressed a kiss to her lips, relief and hope filled him when he felt her breath on his face. "Don't worry, I'll be the best father I can be. You deserve to rest and I refuse to believe that this is anything more than that. Watcher knows I can't live without you!"

Right from the start the twins struggled with poor health. The doctor was worried Rachel wouldn't make it as she barely ate or cried while Reuben struggled to bond with his father and cried all the time. David welcomed the distraction and threw everything he had into their care

"Do you see that big one right there? That's the north star." Kye let Jessie's voice drown out his worries, "How's your family doing?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's not good to keep it in, Kye. You don't have to pretend to have it all together all the time."

She placed her hand over his, "I'm here if you ever want to talk. I'd never judge you."

Kye pulled his hand away, "I'm fine, Jessie. If she gets better great, if she doesn't...well that's life. Things happen. We can't stop the reaper so there's no point crying about it"

"Well...if you needed some comfort...or a distraction" Jessie leaned in and Kye tensed, his mind processing her offer way too slowly. His heartbeat quickened as her arm wrapped around him,his mind racing. Did he want this? He'd thought about it, but right now? He pulled back.

"I'm sorry...I don't think I need...comfort."

"Are you serious right now? After all the teasing and flirting? I tell you everything but I want to give you a kiss to make you feel better and...you don't need comfort? What even am I to you?"

"I'm really sorry, Jessie."

Kye didn't give her any more explanation than that "Fine, sit here and wallow alone. I'm going home" A large part of him wanted to call out for her to stop. To explain why it was all too much. How much he cared. How he'd just hurt her in the end. But instead he watched her walk away.

Lizzie followed him to his room when he came in distressed. "What's going on?"

"I messed everything up."

"What do you mean?"

"With Jessie, she wants to go steady and I shut her down. Why am I like this?" Lizzie's heart broke for her younger brother as she pulled him close.

"It's not like I don't like her. I think she's amazing. I think about being with her. But then I just freaked out."

"Then you should tell her that. Give it a chance."

"What if I make things worse? What if I hurt her?"

"And what if it's destiny. You won't know till you try."

Elena slowly regained her strength but it was weeks before her body was healthy enough that the doctor stopped coming. "Elena Darling, why don't you come join us for dinner."

"I'm not hungry."

"I can fill the bath for you. That sounds nice doesn't it?"

"Not really."

David reached out for her hand and she finally looked at him. "You need to eat. And you haven't bathed in weeks. Come on I'm right here."

"I'm not strong enough"

"The doctor says it will be good for you to walk around. I can carry you to the tub if that helps."

"That's not it"

Elena began to cry, "I'm not strong enough to be their mother. I already almost abandoned them."

"Elena no, you brought them into this world. They're alive because of you. You would never abandon them. Watcher knows how much they need you."

"I almost let you down again"

David pressed a kiss to the back of her hand swallowing back all the emotions that threatened to overtake him. "You gave me the two most amazing gifts and managed to fight off Grim. How could I ever be disappointed? Come on, I'll help you with a bath then you can come meet them."

Elena felt much better after her bath and then David helped her to the nursery. Rachel started crying when Elena picked her up. "See, I told you. They don't even know me"

But David had tears in his eyes, "No Elena, she's crying because she does know you. I think she's hungry."

1928 Pt1 - Skinny Dipping

[sincerelylea]

hi hi! i thought your eddie headcanons were super cute, and i really love your writing so i had to request: would you be open to doing headcanons for billy x fem!reader who struggles with anxiety, depression, etc? how would he (or try) to help out? thank you love <3

you got it, love writing billy. also thank you for the compliment :)

tw: depression, anxiety, self harm, panic attacks, mentions of abuse.

family.

oh billy. so complex.

billy himself is perceived as an asshole, because that's what he wants people to see. he does it on purpose; it makes him untouchable.

y'know, if he's mean to everyone, on constant defense, people won't get close. he won't get hurt. so voicing feelings, putting them out there for someone (you) to hear, he isn't really good at it.

he's been on constant defense since he was a kid. i mean, having feelings besides angry ones wasn't really an option. he had to protect himself by being strong. had to stand up for himself because he didn't have anyone to help him.

and the cherry on top of the cake? the only figure to raise him was the one he's getting abused by. so. he's got a lot of issues.

this being said, i will say he understands what you're going through. maybe all too well.

but the way that he was raised has prevented him from identifying these feelings within himself as well. so for him to see them in you, it's a struggle to,,, learn to be nice about it? idk if that makes sense.

it isn't to say he doesn't try. because you being open with him about your struggles with anxiety and depression, opens the doors for those kinds of conversations and i think he would also eventually tell you his baggage. therefore creating a more communicative environment.

i think you'd be trepidatious to tell him. i mean he's hard to talk to in the beginning. things are just now opening up for you two to get serious.

so he wouldn't find out until you're already in the thick of it.

ignoring his calls, shutting yourself in the darkness of your bedroom, refraining from eating because it takes too much energy. he's worried; also pissed because he doesn't know what's going on and you're not talking to him.

he'd come over, the roar of his dumb engine spiking some anxiety in you, worse than it already was because you have a feeling he's gonna bust in like a bat out of hell.

he'd be kind of hostile at first - spurring you into a panic attack. and then he realizes he's pushed too far (he does this a lot)

i will say, the best goddamn thing about billy, is how bracing he is. his hands on your arms, they stabilize you in the blink of an eye. altogether his presence alone is just,, powerful. in that moment. he commands (very gently ofc) your attention. away from the panic, and onto him.

his eyes cut into yours, intense and there. and his voice is strong, you listen to it.

he doesn't want to overwhelm you, but it almost scares him to see you freak out like this so he'll bring you into a tight embrace mostly for his own comfort.

it is nice though. suffocating and soothes your senses.

"i don't care what the fuck i'm doing. you tell me when you feel like this and i'm there, okay?" says it while holding your face in his hands firmly.

the panic attack is a great doorway into conversation about your mental issues though.

you tell him about your depression and anxiety, he hums and listens. but won't tell you his own stuff quite yet.

the type to let you wallow a little bit. he'll lay in bed with you and nap for as long as you want. his only way of getting you out of your funk is to get you in his car to go on a drive or offer a date night to get you out of the house.

lets you play your mixtapes, holds your hand while he drives. buys dinner of course, whatever you want.

"you uh, you like candles right? what about we go get some."

"i don't know how to make chocolate covered strawberries but i know you like them. is this the right chocolate?"

he tries! it's really cute.

pays attention to the things that make you happy.

billy takes up braiding. learning to braid your hair when you're in deep in the depressive cycle to get your hair out of your face and get you feeling fresh.

surprisingly gentle with braiding too.

he has nice hands, knows you like the feeling of them on you. so he'll always be touching you, holding you - whatever you want.

billy is so the boyfriend to get you up on your bathroom counter to take your makeup off.

helps you get up there and puts your makeup remover on a pad and rubs it off - he's good at that too. he focuses really hard when he does it too, takes this job very seriously.

"what moisturizer do you want tonight."

helps you get undressed and dressed.

a shoulder to lean on in those trying times. he takes his role pretty seriously.

"you smell nice." you inhale, holding him on your bed.

"i wore that cologne you like."

on the topic of self harm, if you do it, or tell him. he only talks about it when you bring it up first.

can tell it's sensitive for you.

that's kind of like everything with him though; he doesn't normally ask about things unless you bring it up first. then he'll ask more questions or ponder deeper.

when he tells you about his struggles, his childhood, his dad, all that. it only strengthens your relationship i think.

more trust, more communication, more help with his anger. just more tender moments, softness. vulnerability.

he really is a lot more excellent than you'd expect i think.

overall, with anxiety. he listens, reminds you of what is true and what isn't. not as tender with it as eddie or steve might be, but he tries.

with depression, he remains a faithful presence. slightly encouraging to get you up doing things. will lay around with you, reminds you he is there.

[jungkxook]

—out of the blue. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: youtuber/gamer!jungkook + fluff / smut 

⟶ words: 5,204

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ summary: catching your boyfriend bleaching and dyeing his hair for a livestream is definitely not what you expected — but it certainly has its perks.

⟶ warnings: established relationship, some attempt at humour, .2 seconds of sort of sub jungkook (you just like seeing him on his knees), you call jungkook a good boy, shower sex, hair pulling, oral sex, face riding, standing sex, breast play, cum eating, doggy style, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ note: because blue haired jungkook has me feeling all sorts of things. also dedicating this to the lovely ryen @kithtaehyung​ because blue haired jungkook is getting her too and i hope this helps!! and thank you to the wonderful @gamerkooks​ and @stanrandomthings​ for always giving me inspiration for gamer jungkook <3

“What the hell are you doing?”

Jungkook has less than a second to react when he hears you bursting through the door of his bedroom, a guilty expression plastered on his face as if you’ve caught him in the midst of a much worse act than what he’s already currently doing ━ but the flustered scowl deepening your countenance is enough for him to certainly feel that way, because how else is he supposed to casually explain why he’s currently sitting shirtless in front of a camera?

Admittedly, the sight is odd enough, and there’s a split moment where your incredulous look is enough to make him feel as if he’s wronged you, and your six month long relationship with him, entirely before he remembers that he didn’t actually do anything wrong like cheat on you, but is actually just trying to dye his hair.

He’s sat in his gaming chair, camera and lights set up around him, and the monitor of his desktop all recording his face to the hundreds of thousands of viewers currently watching his livestream. He had told you well in advance about his aim to do a twenty-four hour live broadcast for his subscribers to both raise money for a donation and to countdown to his next subscriber milestone with the help of his friends ━ and had even asked you to help him plan the event, discussing it animatedly with you for the past month on various occasions ━ but mainly just because Jungkook is crazy enough to sit through a twenty-four hour stream and call it fun.

You had known most of how the entirety of the day would go. Starting from noon the previous day to now, almost an hour before the stream ends, thus far he’s done various gameplays from Minecraft to Overwatch to Among Us simultaneously with his friends who had offered to marathon with him the twenty-four hour event; had a period of time in which Jimin and Taehyung were over and cramped in his room to answer questions and talk to viewers but mostly just to create absolute chaos. You had been there for most of it, though you’re still trying to figure out if it’s a blessing or a curse that you were suckered into paying rent for your three bedroom apartment by Taehyung more than a year ago, and subsequently falling madly in love with Jungkook and forcing you to aid in his antics. You’ve been in a handful of his videos before, appearing in Twitch and YouTube streams, and in the background of vlogs in his channel and the channels belonging to the other boys; and, on that day for Jungkook’s twenty-four hour event, you had joined him at the start before being dragged away for work and then tried to pull an all-nighter with him until you crashed on the couch in the living room, and checking in on him occasionally to give him food and water and to just generally make sure your boyfriend isn’t dead.

Now, with the remaining final hour dwindling down, you had been in your room trying to finish last minute essay writing for school, with your phone propped up on your desk and Jungkook’s livestream playing as background noise to your studying. One minute, he had been playing a round of Among Us, and the next, when you had glanced up, he had the bottle in hand and the detrimental blue dye coating his hair in slick globs. It wouldn’t have been so shocking, had you not seen Jungkook an hour ago when he had his natural dark hair still, and now he had somehow managed to sneak in bleaching his hair in the time you had left him. Maybe it was your fault for not catching it sooner, if only because you had sheepishly taken a small nap amidst your studying only to wake up to a nightmare.

Which is where that leaves you currently, dishevelled demeanour standing at the threshold of his door after chasing over to his room, watching as Taehyung helps Jungkook sufficiently ruin his beautiful hair which you love so much.

“Uh… Dyeing my hair?” Jungkook finally answers, dumbfounded. He’s fortunate he had pulled off his shirt to avoid getting hair dye on it, an old towel now draped around his shoulders to catch any excess mess. He adds brightly, “We asked for suggestions on how to end the stream and someone said I should dye my hair, so Tae got the stuff.”

“You bleached your own hair?” You retort, exasperated. “When the hell did all this happen? I’ve been next door to you the whole time! What if your hair falls out? You should’ve gotten a professional to do it, not Tae━”

Taehyung looks inexplicably offended by your slandering remarks on his (lack of) hair styling skills, retorting with, “Yo, what the━?”

Jungkook blinks, as if just being made aware of what he’s actually doing.

“My hair’s gonna fall out?” he gaps. “Guys, what the hell? Why’d no one tell me?”

He looks from you to Taehyung then over at the comments on his livestream which are currently flooding with the sole topic of you. His eyes snag the first few that appear to him in the frenzied influx of words:

uh oh jungkook’s sleeping on the floor tonight

oh shit run bro

f in the chat for jk’s hair

get him y/n!!!!

“Dude, she’s just being dramatic,” Taehyung waves you off. He ducks out of the way when you reach out to Jungkook’s bed for a pillow and chuck it at the older boy’s head.

“And when he’s bald, then what━”

“No!” A helpless Jungkook exclaims suddenly. He gestures wildly to the stream, “Don’t give them ideas. The edits are gonna start pouring in.”

“Jeon, look, it’s too late to go back now,” Taehyung says. “You’ve got half your head covered in dye and three minutes to go with the stream. How bad can it be?”

A groveling sigh eclipses your lips as you push yourself forward. “Then at least let me help before you ruin it completely.”

Jungkook’s fortunate, to say the least, though he’s left wondering if you’re truly upset with him.

He finishes the countdown to the end of his twenty-four hour stream with you and Taehyung putting the last remaining globs of dye on his hair, a heartfelt goodbye to his viewers who marathoned the stream with him, and a promise to update them on the status of his hair when he washes the dye out.

And, just as soon as he’s shut his camera off, the mundane world returns to him.

It’s no longer millions of anonymous and faceless viewers watching him from the other side of their screens in the tiny bubble that is his room, but just you and Taehyung and the older boy’s frisky little Pomeranian dog and the threat of a wallowing regret as Jungkook thinks to himself, what the hell did he truly just do to his hair?

At some point, Taehyung retreats to his girlfriend’s house taking Yeontan with him, leaving you alone with Jungkook and he basks in the sudden cozy quiet after twenty-four hours of madness as the adrenaline rush begins to fade and mellow out. Back aching, joints cracking and popping as he stretches and moves, and eyes burning in the similar way they do from having stared at a screen for too long, but tenfold, he craves nothing more than to find your sweet and comforting touch to end such a long day.

He finds you in the living room already scrolling through your phone and your Twitter feed to read and marvel at all the comments and memes made by his viewers during his stream and his heart threatens to burst through his chest because you’ve always been so supportive of him and his fans, and they’ve always adored you and your endless interactions with them. So, surely, you can’t be mad at him for bleaching and dyeing his hair. Right?

As his arms come to wrap around you from behind, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck, he hears you bemoan, “You look like a Smurf came on your head.”

Wrong.

Well, not entirely, he guesses. You do lean into his chest, practically melting against him. A sluggish grin tugs at his lips and, instead, he chooses to ask, “Shower with me?”

“Aren’t you tired, Koo?”

“Baby,” he deadpans, and your heart flutters just a little bit, “by this point, I’m running solely on Red Bull and coffee that I’m positive I could fight the gods with my bare hands and win. In fact, I’ve had so much caffeine that I’m fairly certain I’ve ascended to the astral plane. Besides, I need to wash this dye out, and I could use some help. Sleep can wait.”

“Help,” You snort. “You’re such a liar. I already know what you want.”

“To spend time with my beautiful girlfriend? You’re right.”

“I’m not sucking your dick.”

He pulls his head back to look at you. Though he tries to look offended, there’s the tiniest of smirks on his face. “Wasn’t gonna ask you!”

You turn to properly face him in his arms and shoot him a dubious glance. He leans down to press a chilling kiss to your jaw, then nudges his nose against you in the same spot so that you’ll move your head. You do so, despite your prior scolding, and let him kiss the underside of your jaw down to your neck.

“Okay, fine,” You huff finally.

You relent, miraculously, but Jungkook had already guessed you would the moment he had found you in the living room and he couldn’t be happier.

He cherishes the moments alone with you, has come to know them well as he falls into a comfortable routine with you away from prying eyes over the last few months. Because sometimes, as he comes to learn, it’s hard to establish a relationship when his job requires him to be in the spotlight often. What is authentic and what is simply fabricated for views is difficult to discern, and yet you’re patient with him. Not everything to him is money and views and numbers, or what his next big plan is, or how you could potentially help him in some way (despite knowing that any video featuring you seems to skyrocket his views and land his videos on the trending page of YouTube more often than not because he knows everyone loves you more than him). You know when he’s his online persona and when he’s simply just Jungkook, and while there’s hardly any difference between the two, his online personality surely has to maintain a level of privacy and happiness that may not always be true.

At least with you, he can just be himself. He can finally be at ease.

Showering together is just one of the many acts of normalcy he cherishes with you. So, he turns on the shower and lets the bathroom get all warm and balmy as you undress. He’s the first one inside, hissing in delight as he lets the water run over his sore muscles, washing out the dye in his hair firstly so as not to get it on you and fortunately not making too much of a mess of blue dye in the tub. You’ve joined him in an instant when he’s nearly done, squeezing into the space in front of him as you shut the glass door behind you, the pane already beginning to fog and slick with droplets of condensation. He pulls you into him once more, nestling his chin on your shoulder as his hands come to wrap around you. They slide across your front, all wet and soapy, briefly gliding across your breasts, palms brushing against your nipples before traveling down to your navel.

“Congrats, baby,” You coo gently. “Twenty-four hours.”

He murmurs into your hair, “Missed you loads though.”

You turn to look at him finally, and it’s hard not to stare. Your eyes land firstly on his abdomen and the toned muscles there, trailing up to his arm and the pretty tattoos that decorate every inch of his skin, to his soft pink lips and his big eyes. Then, there’s the matter of his hair. The water has done most of the work in washing out the dye from his hair, now falling across his forehead and into his eyes and cheekbones, and it’s only then that you fully register the dye has worked as you struggle to find any remnants of his once-ebony-then-blonde locks. The blue hair is an obvious stark contrast to his natural hair and, you think, it is pretty, accentuating his radiant skin and making his eyes pop.

“I didn’t think you were actually serious all those times you said you wanted to change your hair.” Your lips are pursed as you survey him now, your fingers twirling a strand of his tresses around and around as you inspect it.

He smiles, catching your hand and pressing a quick peck to your knuckles. “Neither did I,” he admits sheepishly. “It sort of just happened.”

You pout. “I’m gonna miss your natural hair.”

“Do you really hate it blue?”

“I don’t hate it. Was more scared you’d ruin your pretty hair and make it all fall out.”

At this, Jungkook flashes you a cheeky smile. He holds his head a little higher. “So you still think my hair is pretty?”

“I think you’re a dork,” You clarify. “And, aside from the fact you almost gave me a heart attack, I’d say the blue is so pretty. Beyond pretty. Kinda hot, if I’m being honest.”

Because you’re not really mad, but it’s fun just to tease Jungkook and see his reactions. At the very least, he can sense this, as it’s apparent with the way his smile stretches even wider on his face.

“Hot, huh?”

“Mhm. But you didn’t hear that from me.”

He feigns a look of mock hurt. “Oh no. You must be really mad. Want me to make it up to you?”

“How are you gonna do that?”

“Well, what do you want from me?”

You take a moment to think it over, but the answer is already obvious enough. It’s one that even he knows, and one that has won you over the moment Jungkook was freed from his stream. You hum aloud, “You, on your knees, head between my legs, like a good boy. Think I can get a better viewpoint of your hair from down there anyway before I judge it.”

“Like a good boy?” A dark smirk tugs at his face. “So now who’s the needy one?”

He lowers his head so that he’s leaving a trail of sloppy wet kisses down your neck to your collarbones. As you let yourself get carried away for a moment, you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him backwards until you’re pressed up against the glass door. He ducks even lower, kissing just above your left breast and then catching your nipple between his teeth. You swallow thickly, rubbing your thighs together, reminding yourself to respond to him.

“It’s not my fault when you were busy for the past day,” You pout. “And the blue hair really is sexy.”

“Aha!” he straightens up in front of you suddenly, a crooked smug smile on his face. “So I’m not just hot. I’m sexy.”

“You’re literally always sexy. And beautiful too. It’s almost unfair.”

“That’s even better.”

You tug your fingers at his damp locks. When you speak, your voice is a mix between urgency and a whine. “Jungkook. I could’ve already gotten off with my hand at this point.”

“Ouch, feisty!” He pokes his fingers at your sides. Then, nipping a little more firmly on the soft skin of your breast, murmurs huskily, “Alright, alright. But only if you call me a good boy again.”

Part of him is taunting you, but there’s a small sliver of intrigue that makes the thought in his head and the pretty words on your tongue excite him to no end.

Still, you choose to entertain him, maybe a little drowsily and entirely consumed by him, “I will if you let me ride your face.”

A rumble of a chuckle resonates from him. You find him on his knees in the next moment, wedging himself between your thighs. He nudges one of your legs and you follow the wordless command, hitching one thigh over his shoulder as you settle back against the glass door of the shower. He kisses at your hips as he dips his head lower and lower to where you want him, before swiping his tongue at your cunt, tasting all of you at once.

“Mmm, Koo━” A soft whimper sounds from you, making his head swim.

He wastes no time in lapping at your folds, tongue delving into you deeper and deeper as he cranes his neck. The wetness that pools between your legs and on the tip of his tongue is a sticky mess that he basks in just a little longer.

“Fuck,” he groans into your pussy, “you taste so fucking good. Missed this so much.”

His hands are big as they come to hold you close, cradling your ass, your thighs, your hips, anything to pull you into him while simultaneously pushing your thighs further apart.

You manage to find your voice and quip weakly, “Missed me or having your head between my legs?”

“You, definitely,” he murmurs. He busies himself by reaching out with his thumb to press circles against your clit. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, hips rutting into his face. “All of you.”

“Jungkook━ Fuck━”

He burrows further into you, humming in response. His nose brushes against your clit, the muscle of his tongue a pleasant wet that makes you warm all over. You give another experimental swivel of your hips, grinding against his tongue just right. He pinches at your hips as if to probe you onward, and then you do it again, and again, desperately rocking your hips back and forth against him. Your fingers reach out to grab a fistful of his hair, clutching it so tightly he hisses. But you’re right. The blue locks look dazzling between your legs, being pulled by your hands as you push him further into you.

His eyes meet yours from below your waist, hooded and idle, enjoying the view as you squirm and writhe above him, shamelessly riding his face. Grinding against his chin, nose, and tongue, the slick wetness you leave behind glistens on his skin.

“Ah, Koo━” You cry out. “Fuck, I’m gonna━!”

Your orgasm hits you violently, sending you keeling. Your hips continue with reckless abandon, and Jungkook presses his finger against your clit a little harder, a little faster. The abrupt gushing warmth between your thighs sends your mind spinning, as the steam from the shower and your panting breaths begin to fog the bathroom. When your hips begin to slow, Jungkook laps at the rest of your leaking core before pulling away with a grin brandishing his shimmering face. He lets you pull him up eagerly, clumsy hands fumbling to hold either side of his face as you tug at him.

“God, you’re so hot, babe,” he sighs wistfully, smothering your lips with his for an all too chaste kiss, before leaning in once more to nibble at your lower lip.

“Wanna feel you, Koo,” You prompt urgently. “Want you in me.”

Jungkook hastens to comply, his hands falling to your waist. “Go on, then. Turn around for me.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You spin so that you’re facing the glass sliding door, your back to him. You watch him over your shoulder, momentarily admiring his well built stature, the tattoos that ink his body, and the water that shimmers on his skin. He has to push his wet hair up and away when it falls across his forehead and then he reaches down to grasp at his length, grip tight around his shaft so that he can pump himself sluggishly a few short times. It’s almost painful to watch him jerk himself off in front of you, the tip a burning red and glistening. He catches you staring and decides to catch you off guard when he grabs a hold of your hips with one hand. He yanks you towards him, your ass pressed firmly against his hips, making you jump from the startle, and grins when you look back at him.

Then, ever so slowly, he runs the length of his cock along your folds. Before you can brace yourself for the overwhelming rush of pleasure, he’s sliding his cock past your folds, burrowing into you deep. He curses behind you, his other hand flying out to steady himself by digging into your hip.

“Fffuck. Shit.” He dips his head so that his cheek is resting against your shoulder and sputters for air. “Jesus, fuck━ Been dying to feel you all day.”

He fits so snugly in you, so perfectly, just like always and you take him so well, coaxed by your own arousal. He ruts his hips forward into yours and you nearly fall forward before catching yourself by pressing your palms to the glass. Then, he’s grinding against you, small and precise thrusts that roll into your hips.

“Mmm, Jungkook,” you choke out. “You feel so━ So good.”

“Ah, shit,” he hisses. “Wanna wreck you so bad.”

He angles his chest a little more, pummels his dick into you in such a way that he’s hitting a different spot in you. His eyes stay fixated on the soft, round flesh of your ass and the way his cock slips so easily into you, brows screwed in concentration, jaw clenched. The slight bounce of your ass each time he rolls his hips firmly against you, the way you ricochet forward each time in tandem with his moves. You bow your head, pressing your temple against the glass door now tinted with condensation, only marked up by the imprints of your fingers grasping at anything. It’s almost sweltering hot in the shower now but you both pay no mind to it. He fucks into you with such languid, steady strides, cock beginning to throb and twitch in anticipation. You feel so wet, such a pitiless mess between your thighs already that it makes him growl.

“H-Harder,” You mewl. “Oh, Koo━”

He almost slips behind you in his eagerness to obey, awakening something animalistic in him, a yearning to just release all the tension in his core. This time, he adapts a measured pace, forceful thrusts that have you crying out in delight each time. One hand reaches up to grip at your shoulder to steady himself while his other slithers around your front to grasp at your breasts, all wet and supple, pinching at your nipples.

“So good,” he moans, pressing sloppy kisses just below your ear. His breath is hot as he pants behind you, sending tingles down your spine. “Fuck━”

His voice is cut off by a whine, hips bucking forward in an unsolicited manner as he feels his high drawing near. You lean your head onto his shoulder, stretching your arm out so that you can tug desperately at his hair. It’s a silent, simple command, but it’s one that he immediately understands even without you speaking.

“Wanna feel you━” You whimper. “Wanna see you.”

Jungkook nearly slips as he fumbles to pull out of you, hissing at the loss of warmth and friction. As soon as you’ve turned to face him, he wastes no time in closing the distance between you. He pushes his leaking cock past your folds once more and continues at the same pace as if he had never even stopped to begin with.

“Fuck,” he whines. “Not gonna last━”

You wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him even closer to you, as he presses you against the glass. He hitches one of your thighs around his waist, spreading your legs just wide enough to hit a certain spot that has both of you crying out. You’re clinging so tightly to him, fingers digging harshly into his skin in an attempt to alleviate the building pressure you feel. He knows you’ve almost reached your end when you resort to a gasping, moaning mess, writhing beneath his broad stature.

“Close, baby?” he hums.

You open your mouth to respond but can only muster a whimper. His pace treads over to heedlessly frantic, the sound of skin against skin and the lewd wetness filling the shower. Despite his hips pounding into yours so harshly, his fingers flutter so delicately under your chin, grasping it and moving your head just enough so that you’re facing him.

“Lemme see you,” he grunts. “Wanna watch you when you cum all over my cock. Always so pretty.”

“I━ I’m━ Fuck, Koo━”

But you can’t finish your thought.

You keep your gaze fixated on Jungkook’s, however exhausted and weary it may be. Your lashes flutter, brows knit together, and you suck your lower lip between your teeth, biting so hard Jungkook’s certain you’ll bruise it. Another few hard thrusts and then you’re reaching your high, overcome by such an intense burning that you can’t help but look away out of instinct. You cry his name, face contorting in pure pleasure, and chest arching to meet his. You’re clenching so tightly around him has him sputtering for air, nearly collapsing entirely against you. You’re near dripping around his cock which only means he almost slips from you with each draw of his hips that he makes. It’s why he sloppily rocks his hips into yours, desperate to reach his own high as well.

When you return to your senses, blinking away your blurry vision, you can make out Jungkook cooing into your ear, “That’s it, baby. Doing so well.”

You meet his gaze once more, only this time you’re perhaps even more tired. Hooded eyes watch him, silently probing him to his climax. He comes tumbling towards it, a few more short thrusts of his hips and, finally, he’s there. He slams his hips up into yours one final time, crying out, and then he’s releasing into you in an overwhelming abrupt gush. Only he can’t quite enjoy it because, out of genuine accident and driven by impatience to just get off, the last jerk of his hips hits you a little too hard.

It’s what causes you to slip backward and he, so lost in his own reverie, hardly has a proper grip on you or where he’s standing. When you lose your footing beneath you, slipping on the wet porcelain of the tub, and comes crashing down, he’s brought along with you. “Oh, fuck━!”

The both of you yelp from the surprise, your hands flailing out to brace yourself for the fall.

Fortunately, you land on him when you reach the bottom of the tub, courtesy of him grabbing onto you last second so that he can soften the blow upon impact.

Unfortunately, the breath is knocked out of him from the startle and from the sudden added weight of you on top of him with no warning.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” he groans.

“In hindsight,” You wince as you shift your weight above him, “maybe having sex in the shower again wasn’t the greatest idea. Remember last time when we knocked the shower curtain down and I had to get stitches on my elbow? It’s why we got the glass door installed, and then we had to lie to Tae about it.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” He tilts his head back, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he flashes you an all too charming smirk. “Was kinda worth it though.”

You giggle, sounding so sweet and angelic, even despite the way his cum still leaks from you. Somewhere in the fall, his dick had slipped from you and now lays softening on his stomach which, really, is probably the worst part of the accident to him. He already misses the warmth of you wrapped around him, your mingling cum a dirty mess around him. You prop yourself up on his chest with your palms, but before you can even think to respond, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

A small mass of fur in the shape of little Yeontan has just poked his head through the crack in the door, oblivious to you and Jungkook’s compromising position. And then, shortly following behind him, is his equally oblivious owner who must have forgotten something in the apartment to bring him back so suddenly.

“Tannie, get back here━ We gotta go━ Oh, Jesus, what the fuck?” Taehyung appears at the door for a millisecond before noticing the situation he’s just stumbled upon. Thankfully, he acts fast, and clamps a hand over his tainted eyes, clumsily scooping up Yeontan in his other hand. “Can you guys please stop fucking all over this damn apartment? My son’s eyes are too pure for this!”

And then he’s retreating, but not before bumping blindly into the doorframe, grumbling along the way. It’s silent for a moment as you and Jungkook gawk at one another; then you hear Taehyung leave the apartment once more, and the both of you dissolve into a fit of unabashed laughter.

“Are you okay?” You ask once you’ve calmed down enough as he reaches out to shut the shower off. You plant a kiss in your boyfriend’s hair. “You hit your head coming down.”

Jungkook’s heart swells at your gentle touches and smiles. “I’m fine,” he promises brightly. “You?”

“Well, you did just thoroughly fuck me, so━” You shrug innocently. “I’m kinda still too giddy to even care.”

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says. “For almost giving you a heart attack with my hair and for almost putting you in the emergency room again just now.”

The mention of his hair draws your attention to it once more. It’s not as wet as before, damp azure waves falling into his eyes that you brush away gingerly.

“Yeah,” You snort, “but I’ve decided I like your hair. Like, really like it.”

“Yeah?” he grins wide. “What was the deciding factor?”

You pause, as if to think for a moment. Exhaustion riddles your body and you know sleeping curled up next to Jungkook is nearing your future, but for now you let yourself entertain the last remnants of whatever lewd thoughts are still on yours and his minds before they fizzle away completely. You can’t help yourself anyway. The blue really is nice.

“Definitely the view of you eating me out,” You say. “And can’t forget how pretty it looks when I’m pulling at your hair.”

“Say no more,” he beams. “Then I’ll make it up to you by making you cum on my tongue again and again and again.”

The last thing he hears before he grabs at your cheek to softly pull you down to him for one last kiss, slow and ardent, is a bubbly giggle from you that delights him to no end.

“That’s a good boy.”

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[midnight-dreamerness]

Home

summary: Chris goes on a mission and doesn't return.

pairing: Chris Redfield x Reader

warning: mentioned of death. Lots of angst tbh.

word count: 2k

~~~~

You knew what you signed up for when you said yes to going on a date. You knew there was a possibility that he wouldn’t come home. It was a risk you were willing to take to be loved by him. And he did. He did love you. More than anyone. He promised to marry you one day. He said he wanted to have children and settle down in a small town and live out the rest of his life with you, but there was something he had to do first.

So he left. He had been gone for three months when Leon knocked on your door. You saw the look on his face and that’s all it took for your world to come crashing down.

You didn’t do much after that. You stayed inside, playing what Leon said over and over until you had cried yourself to sleep.

“There was a problem. He had to go back in, but…the place exploded. They never found a body. I’m sorry.”

You cried and cried and cried. For months that’s all you did. No one could come through to you, not even Claire, who was going through something similar. You hated that she was handling it better than you were.

Claire stayed with you, but it wasn’t long before she had to go back to work. You didn’t even say anything when she told you she was leaving, simply buried your head into Chris’s pillow. But when you heard the door shut, you cried harder.

She reminded you of him. Her stubbornness. Her attitude.

She wouldn’t let you wallow all day. She made you get up. Made you eat. Made you wash your hair even though it was the last thing you wanted to do. But that did stop you from dying inside. Your clothes started to hang off your body, it got even worse after she left. You sleep all the time but your eyes still help dark bags under them. You didn’t care. What was the point? You had no one anymore. You were a shell of the person you used to be. When he died, he took your heart with him.

Leon had taken it upon himself to make sure you were okay. He came ever so often, restocked the fridge, made sure everything was okay before he left again. But there was something about this visit that made him stay. He looked into Chris’s room, watching your unsteady breathing as you slept. Even asleep, you couldn’t function right without him, without Chris.

So when you woke up he told you he was moving in, to which you protested. You argued that you didn’t need anyone to take care of you, you could do it yourself.

“Look at what you're doing to yourself!” He argued, making you stand in front of your full length mirror. You glanced over yourself with teary eyes. Your skin was dull and your eyes lacked any sort of emotion but sadness. Your clothes looked two sizes too big and you could clearly see your cheek bones. You took in a breath and placed your hand over your mouth.

“Do you think Chris would want this for you?” Leon asked, cradling you in his arms. You shook your head as an answer and pulled him close. You missed him so much that it hurt. All you did was cry and sleep. Every little thing reminded you of him. This apartment reminded you of him. You knew deep down that you needed to leave to get better, but you were afraid you would forget him. And you didn’t want that. He was your first everything. And he was supposed to be your last, you hated that he wouldn’t get to be.

You decided a couple days later that you would be moving in with Leon. Just until you felt like you could make it on your own again. And it was great. You applied for a job, to get your mind off of things. Although you had been working at the BSAA at the time of Chris’s….. You decided it was best that you found another, one that would get your mind off of him instead of filling it with the memories you both had together.

You did find one, pretty quickly actually.

You stuffed the tip the lovely couple left you into the pocket of your apron and headed to the back with the empty plates and cups.

“Did you see the way that guy was staring at you?” Trisha, my new friend and coworker, says as she walks inside the back beside me. You groan at her eagerness and place the dirty dishes on the tray to be washed.

She giggles and walks with you back out Into the front where you start wiping down the front counter.

“Yes. I did notice, Trish.”

She begins to gush as to how cute you both would be and how perfect your children would look.

You avoided the conversation all together, the way he stared at you sent shivers down you alone and triggered memories you didn’t want to remember in that particular moment. Your heart began to ache again. Luckily, you got to head home early today.

You were ready to talk about what happened with Leon, who surprisingly had the day off.

“Why haven’t you told her?” Leon asked, setting the table for dinner. You shrugged and picked at your nails as you leaned up against the kitchen counter.

“She’s your friend. You need to tell her.”

“I don’t like talking about it.”

“We’re technically talking about it now.”

A huff leaves your lips and you fall into your seat at the table. You glance up at him for a moment. He stared down at you with his arms folded over his chest and a knowing look etched across his face. You look around the room, trying not to give into his stare. You notice another plate set and you ask him about it, to which he responded:

“First of all, don’t change the subject. Tell her. And second, Claire is coming over.”

You mumble under your breath and fold your arms, like a child. Leon chuckles.

“I love you. And I love that you’ve found someone you clicked with aside from the cat down the street.”

You go to protest but you're cut off by the sound of the door bell ringing. You get up and walk alongside Leon to answer the door, grumbling under your breath. Claire stood there, an unreadable expression on her face. You hadn’t taken notice of the tall man standing behind her. But when you did, your eyes began to fill with tears

“There’s something I need to-“

“Chris?”

His eyes meet yours for a short moment before he’s crashing into you. His arms wrapping around your waist tightly, afraid if he let you go he’d lose you all over again. You were in shock. Your body is frozen and not yet reacting to the feeling of him. It was familiar and warm. It was what you ached for when you woke up in the middle of the night. It was what you were missing when he was gone, when you thought he was dead.

“Princess?”

The nickname. It reached out and pulled you in. You reacted instantly, a sob leaving your lips and you grabbed him and held him tightly.

“I thought - I thought -“

“Shh. I know. I’m here now.”

You rest against his chest, his scent radiating over you, making you cry harder. He had come back to you. This had to be a dream, you were scared to death that it was.

“It’s been 7 months, Chris. Where were you?”

Leon glanced down at the sleeping girl as she snuggled into her returned lover. She fit so perfectly in his arms, he couldn’t lie. He was happy that she got him back.

“I had no choice but to stay away. There was…someone after me. I had to take care of the problem.”

“For 7 months? Do you realize how much that took a toll on her?”

Chris glared Leon down, who simply ran his hands over his face in frustration.

“She’s been a mess. Ask Claire.”

Claire adjusted herself comfortably but awkwardly in her chair. Her eyes trained on her shoes.

“Claire-“

“You weren’t here, Chris. We are so glad to have you back. But you should’ve called. Should’ve sent a letter. She was killing herself.”

Chris felt awful for what happened. He couldn’t let anyone know he was alive, it would’ve put them in danger. He hopes one day they’ll understand that. He knew you would.

He explained it to them. How everything went down, and why he had to do what he did to keep them/you alive.

“Tell me. How was she?”

Leon explained it to him as simply as he could. How she wouldn’t eat, didn’t go out, barely talked at all. Chris hugged her tighter to his chest as he soaked in everything. Every word that came from Leon’s mouth made him grimace.

“She’s taking pills to help her sleep at night. She’s even got a job down the street. Working at Sally’s.”

“We’ll I’m here now. And I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

It was the next day when you woke up. You jumped out of bed and looked around. You were alone. Tears entered your eyes as you had come to the conclusion that it was a dream. Chris wasn’t here. He didn’t come home. You sat down on the bed and sobbed, holding your hands to your chest.

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

Chris rushed towards you and bent down to meet your eyes. They widened and relief spread through your body like a wildfire. You wrapped your arms around his neck.

“God, I thought it was a dream.”

Chris chuckled under his breath and lifted you up by your thighs. He turned and sat on the bed and readjusted you so you were sitting comfortably on his lap. You squeal and giggled as he sat you down, smiling and pecking his lips.

“I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

You shake your head and peck his lips again.

“I'm glad you're here. Chris, I -“

“They told me everything. I’m done. I’m retiring. And I’m going to give you that life I promised you.”

Butterflies filled your stomach and you couldn’t help the tears that slid down your face. Excitement isn’t a big enough word to describe how you were feeling. You were so happy to have him back. It felt like years since he had been gone, not even gone. You thought he was dead, in your mind you were never getting him back. But here he is. He has you in his lap, his hands resting on the curve of your hips, fingers tracing soft shapes into your exposed skin. Your eyes locked on each other, basking in the moment that you wanted to last forever.

He was home.

He was home in your arms.

“Marry me?”

[maximons]

Without You

Summary: Everything seems to be going alright for Wanda Maximoff, but a mission gone horribly awry makes everything crash and burn.

Word Count: 3,101

Genre: Angst

Requested?: Yes

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, mentions of blood, burns, scarring

A/N: Alright kids, you ready for angst time? My first full out angst fic, oh boy. This ones got no happy ending guys, so do with that what you will. This takes place during Civil War, so spoilers...? I guess? I’d say Happy Reading, but I don’t think you guys will be that happy by the end of this sooo good luck!

Lagos.

That’s the place where everything in Wanda’s life fell apart. Or at least fell apart even further than it had before.

Some of the team were out on a mission. You guys finally managed to track down Rumlow and his gang after about a year of searching. Everything was going fairly well, yes there was some collateral damage, and things didn’t exactly go according to plan, but overall, it looked like you guys would come out of this with a win.

And then, it happened.

Wanda and you had begun to jog up to Steve’s location, where you saw him stare Rumlow down. Something in you just told you that this wasn’t going to go well. You looked at the scene in front of you, and then your gaze fell onto the building behind it. It was too close for comfort.

“Babe, I’m gonna go check that building.” You turned to your girlfriend. “Looks like there could be a lot of people in there, I’m gonna try to get them out.” She looked at you, and then to the building briefly. Part of her wanted to question why when the fight was happening out here, but she knew in your line of work things can be unpredictable.

She nodded. “Okay, be safe.” You nodded back with a small smile, and pecked her on the cheek.

“Always am.” With that, you ran off.

It was only about two or three minutes after you ran in when things went to hell.

Rumlow pulled a pin on his vest, and Wanda reacted as quickly as she could, capturing him mid explosion in her magic. She lifted him up, trying to get him as far away from the people below as possible, but she couldn’t hold it anymore. The explosion went off.

Blowing a huge hole into that building.

Wanda stood there, shocked for a moment over what just happened. Her hand came and slowly covered her mouth, mind going over all the damage she just caused. She vaguely heard Steve calling for fire and rescue, and then it hit her.

You were in there.

“Y/n...” She whispered, still in a state of shock, but she quickly snapped out of it and sprang into action. “Y/n!” She heard Steve yell for her to wait, but she didn’t care. She took off, flying up and landed in one of the building’s destroyed floors.

She did her best to ignore the carnage around her, carnage she caused. She pushed down the bile that was rising in her throat, and continued her search for you. 

And then she found you.

You were a super soldier, so luckily you didn’t die from the blast, she could still feel your pulse. But you didn’t look good.

You were lying on the charred floor, unconscious. Half of your suit was burned off, leaving nasty burns all on your arm and torso, some even creeping up your neck and face. Blood also dripped down from an open wound on your temple.

Wanda couldn’t bring herself to care about your appearance, though. You were still alive, and that’s the main thing she cared about right now.

“Don’t worry.” She sobbed out, hand gently caressing your unburned cheek. “You’re okay...you’re gonna be okay...” She tore her gaze away from you for a minute, and looked around. Tears falling at the sight of multiple bodies, people who weren’t as lucky as you.

People who were dead because of her.

“...I’m so sorry...”

The next week was chaos.

You were brought to the compound’s medical facility immediately, doctors working fast to try and save your life. They managed to stabilize you, now it was just a waiting game as to when you would wake up. Wanda would visit you everyday, barely being able to leave your side. Steve managed to convince her that she needed to rest, saying that you wouldn’t want to see her neglecting her needs. She hesitantly complied, and finally went to her room to sleep for the night.

The next morning, the news started reporting the incident.

And of course they blamed her.

Logically, Wanda knew this wasn’t entirely her fault. Rumlow was the one who turned himself into a bomb. She was just trying to save the lives below. That thought brought her little comfort though.

She was still responsible for the lives lost in that building. She was still responsible for you, the love of her life, being severely injured and in a coma.

Maybe they were right.

Steve didn’t let her wallow in that thought for too long though, because he shut the TV off. He sat down and gave her one of his hope speeches, and she appreciated the effort, but she didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s my fault.” She whispered. “All of those people, dead because of me...and Y/n...” She trailed off, tears forming in her eyes. Steve placed a hand on her leg, trying to comfort her.

“You know...she doesn’t blame you, I know she doesn’t.”

“Maybe she should...they all should.”

Steve couldn’t get anything else out, as Vision phased in the room and told them of the arrival of Secretary Ross.

As if things couldn’t get any worse, he had told them about the Sokovia Accords. Wanda hated the idea, forcing heroes to register with the government, essentially making them puppets for them. She knew you would hate it too, you never were one to trust the government.

“Look, we understand where you’re coming from, but if it weren’t for us, there’d be a lot more blood spilled.” Sam argued.

“Tell that to the innocent civilians in that Lagos hospital building.” Ross argued back. “Oh wait, you can’t.”

“If it weren’t for Wanda, hundreds of people in the streets below would have been killed.” Steve cut in. “If it weren’t for Y/n, hundreds of more people would have been in that building.”

“And look where that landed her.”

Wanda had enough. She shot up from her chair, and stormed out of the room.

She went straight to your hospital room, your still unconscious body covered in bandages. She pulled up a chair beside your bed, hand going to grip yours. She tried to speak, but couldn’t bring herself to form the words. So she just rested her head on your joined hands and cried.

The next few weeks saw the Avengers falling apart, divided over the accords. Wanda was especially disappointed in Natasha’s decision, given that you two were best friends. 

Wanda hasn’t left the compound. Most of her time was spent visiting you and sleeping as best she could. Your burns had begun healing, but barely. They still left pretty nasty scars. Your breathing had improved, which satisfied the doctors. They had said you could wake up any moment now, Wanda just hoped it was soon.

The next day, Wanda walked into the kitchen to find Vision cooking. She found that odd, since she knew he didn’t eat, but he explained that he was making it for her. You used to cook for her a lot, and after a few disasters, you finally got the recipe down. Vision’s was no where near as good as yours, but she appreciates the effort.

After a conversation about their powers and their fear of them, Wanda volunteered to go to the store to pick up some paprika that would greatly help the dish. Vision stopped her.

“Vision...are you not letting me leave?”

“It’s a matter of safety.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vision stopped her again. “Not yours. Mr. Stark would like to avoid the possibility of another public incident.”

Wanda looked at the synthezoid in disbelief. “I’m not an out of control time bomb. It was an accident.”

“I know. I do, but...you powers are very unpredictable. You are also...vulnerable. My scanners have indicated you are, how you say, ‘on edge’. You have been ever since Miss L/n was admitted in the medical wing.”

Wanda’s gaze turned into a harsh glare. “I know that human emotion is a foreign concept to you Vision, but trust me, if your girlfriend was ever put in a coma because of you...being ‘on edge’ is the least you would be.”

Without waiting for a response, Wanda turned around and stormed off. She headed to the one place that her feet often dragged her to the last weeks. Your bedside. 

She sat and took a hold of your hand. She stared at you for a moment before she spoke. “Hey, baby. Things have been...hard without you to say the least. Not that this wouldn’t be hard anyway, but everything is falling apart. These stupid accords are ruining everything. Tony has become a government pet, Nat joining him, Steve is off doing who knows what, and now...I’m locked in.” She paused. “You know, as much as I wish more than anything that you were awake and by my side right now...part of me is glad that you wouldn’t have to see your family fall apart like this. It’d break your heart...” She stayed for a few more moments, staring at your face and taking in your features once again. She then leaned down to kiss your hand. “I love you.” With that, she left.

Later that night, Wanda was back in the main room of the compound. You still haven’t woken up, she just learned she was essentially on house arrest, so she was trying to find ways to find ways to distract herself. She was reading a book, when she heard a loud explosion go off outside. She walked over to the window to take a look, Vision joining her a few moments later.

“What is it?”

“Stay here please.”

Wanda was left alone for a moment, before she felt a presence behind her. She quickly grabbed hold of the knife on the table, and flinging it towards the new presence. She halted it when she saw who it was.

Clint.

The next few minutes passed by like a blur. Clint was convincing her to come help Steve, Vision came back in but was trapped, Wanda hesitated and Clint gave her one of those hope speeches. She was about to decline, before he said one last thing.

“You know, if Y/n was awake...I know she’d side with Steve, and she’d only hope you’d do the same.”

Was it manipulative? Possibly, but he was also right. You would have sided with Steve, no question. Doing what you could to help. She thought on it for a few more moments, before she nodded. They were about to leave before Vision broke free. The two men fought, and before she knew it, she was sending the synthezoid several floors down and into the ground. 

She went to her room, quickly packing her suit and anything else she thought she would need. She went back out to meet Clint, about to leave, but she stopped.

“Wait! I gotta see Y/n first.” 

Clint sighed, but knew he couldn’t deny her of this. “Alright, make it quick.”

She booked it to your hospital room. You were lying there, same as you have been for a while. She quickly surged forward grabbed your hand, not bothering to sit. She knew they didn’t have time.

“Alright, baby. I’m gonna go out for a bit, okay? I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but...I’m going to do what’s right. I’m going to fight. I finally ‘got off my ass’ as you would say.” She chuckled, but it held no real joy behind it. “I just hope you’d be proud of me...and I just hope that I can come back to see you-”

Wanda cut herself off when she felt you begin to move. All of a sudden your face shifted, and you began to turn your head. 

“Y/n?...”

You began to open your eyes slowly, head slowly lifting off your pillow. Your eyes looked around, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room. Before you could even look at Wanda though, you began coughing. 

Wanda rushed to poor you a glass of water, knowing your mouth would be dry from not using it for a while. She handed it to you, quickly, and you slowly raised your hand to take it. As you began to drink, Wanda couldn’t help but smile. You were finally awake. She was beyond relieved. She was put in a rough spot now, she knew she had to meet Clint so they could go, but...you were finally awake. She couldn’t leave you.

“Wanda, we gotta go!” She heard Clint yell, and without tearing her eyes away from you, she yelled back.

“In a minute! Y/n just woke up!”

She didn’t hear a response from the man, but she heard footsteps quickly making its way towards your room. 

You finished drinking your water and placed the cup on the bedside table. You began to try to sit up, but Wanda rushed to your side to help.

“Here you go, easy.”

When you fully sat up, you took in the appearance of the woman next to you. You smiled. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” She breathed out. You looked her in the eyes, smile still on both your faces. But, Wanda’s smile dropped instantly at the next words that came out of your mouth.

“Sorry, hi, I’m Y/n. You probably already knew that though.” You chuckled nervously. “Are you one of the nurses?”

Wanda froze. No. This couldn’t be happening. The doctors told her that Amnesia was a possibility since you hit your head on impact from the blast, but it never seemed like a real threat. She stared at you, jaw slacked for a few more moments.

“Um, hello?...Oh! Are you my doctor? Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume.”

Wanda snapped out of it when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned her head to see it was Clint. You spoke up again before she could say anything though.

“Oh, hey, are you a nurse? Or doctor?”

Realization filled Clint’s face, but he held it together. He simply shook his head.

“Oh...so, is someone supposed to help me or...?” You trailed off. 

Clint looked to Wanda, who was still in shock, tears beginning to form in her eyes. He knew he had to take over, get them out as soon as possible. “Sorry, Y/n. We’ll get your nurse to come and check on you. Glad to see you’re awake.” Before you could respond, he quickly rushed out of the room, pulling Wanda with him.

Wanda finally let herself break down, and cried in the van. She barely had time to process everything before they picked up a man name Scott and flew to the airport to meet Steve.

Steve broke down the plan and the team went separate ways to suit up and get in position. Except Wanda. Steve was about to go get himself ready, but paused when he saw the witch frozen in place.

“Wanda? You okay?” Wanda simply shook her head and looked up at him, he could see the tears in her eyes. “What happened?”

“Y/n woke up.”

Steve raised his eyebrows in shock. “She did? That’s great-” He was cut off when Wanda let out a sob. He then put two and two together, something was wrong. “...What was it?”

“She...doesn’t remember anything...doesn’t remember me...”

Steve sighed. He was saddened by the news as well, you and him were very close, both being super soldiers and all. He couldn’t even imagine what Wanda was going through in this moment though, so he put on a brave face. He went over to the witch and wrapped an arm around her. “Y/n is strong...when this is over, we’ll go see her and start-” Steve was cut off again when Wanda shook her head.

“Steve...you and I both know this isn’t gonna end with us just being able to go back...” She looked up at him. He was about to speak up again, when he heard Sam in his ear.

“Cap, Tony and Rhodey are flying in now. You good to go?” 

Steve looked to Wanda, knowing she heard him too since they all had coms. She nodded. “On my way.” He turned to leave, before giving Wanda one last look. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

It wasn’t.

The fight at the airport was beyond tiresome, and they lost. Steve and Bucky got away to handle the other Winter Soldiers, but the rest of the team was captured.

So now here she was, sitting in a cell in a high security prison in the middle of the ocean...with a straight jacket and shock collar on. Wanda couldn’t even be upset about it. She was numb. She’s already lost everything she possibly could. Her parents, her brother, her country, and now...you. She couldn’t bring herself to care whether or not she wasted away in this cell. Maybe she deserved to.

But of course, she couldn’t even have that for long, as Steve broke them out a few days later.

Up on the quinjet with Steve and the rest of the team, she sat alone, staring out the window watching the dark clouds pass by. After a few moments, she felt a presence next to her. She looked over to see who it was. Natasha.

“What are you doing here?” Wanda asked, looking back out the window. 

“It’s a long story.” She answered. “Steve told me what happened, I...I’m not even sure what to say. I am so sorry Wanda.” Wanda merely nodded, not trusting her voice right now. Natasha took a deep breath and continued. “Y’know...I can pull some strings, the ones I have left anyway. Get Y/n relocated to be with us. I know she doesn’t remember anything right now, but-”

“No.” Wanda cut her off, surprising the redhead.

“Wha...what do you mean ‘no’?”

Wanda had thought about it, she’s thought about it the entire time she was in the Raft. She would love nothing more than to see you again, to hold you and help you on your recovery, but...she couldn’t. She was a wanted fugitive now, and you were only in this predicament because of her...she had to be selfless here. She couldn’t bring you into this life, not when you were missing chunks of your own.

“I mean no.” She said, looking up into Natasha’s eyes, tears pooling in her own. “She’s better off.”

And with that, Wanda got up, walking towards the back of the jet to be alone. She took a deep breath, and prepared herself. Preparing herself for a new life as a fugitive on the run. And most importantly...

Preparing for a life without you.

[mrspillow]

Sorry (Jellal Fernandes x Reader)

"Hmm... strawberry cake..."

Suppressing a small laugh you turned your head to Erza, your best friend of childhood days that never seemed to miss the opportunity of shoving cake into her mouth.

You had seen the amounts of baked goods the redhead could swallow within minutes, not even speaking of hours, but when it came to strawberry cakes, it turned ridiculous.

"I do not know how you aren't fat already, Erza", you mused and put your chin onto your palm, still watching that food orgy of hers "But I guess that's okay, Ichiya likes your body just the way you are."

Even though she was wearing armor, you could see the shivers running down her spine and her face growing blue as she choked on that cake.

"Stop that", she didn't like being teased with a matter as serious as Ichiya, not even by you "You know exactly he gives me the chills every time."

You shrugged and turned back to the field inside of the Domus Flau arena in Krokus, watching the pair of wizards fight it out. Although you were no part of a guild, you were busy cheering on for Fairy Tail whenever they entered the field.

Yeah, sure, there were shouts of boos and the mocking of the other guilds but with Erza alone, they couldn't be any worse than the best.

You just knew it.

Even when the both of you were just kids and surely no force to reckon with, she wasn't just a surprisingly powerful mage but also kind and caring for those in her family. She was everything that made you change minds back then and you couldn't have been more grateful. It was only then that you realized just what exactly it was that you were doing and you felt so dirty the moment it became clear as day.

You snapped out of your stupor before it became obvious you were lightyears away and focused on the matches ahead of you.

Snatching the list from Gray's hands (who was too absorbed into fighting off Juvia - as always) to take a glimpse at the letters, you let out a sigh of defeat.

"Can I have a piece too?"

Just as you felt your eyes sliding shut, Natsu bumped into you, nearly making you fall over the handrails but at least, you were awake now.

"Is it finally over?" you leaned back and let out a yawn "Thank God!"

After all, you weren't that much into stuff like tournaments, Fairy Tail was basically the only reason for you to come into this cave of pent-up masses.

Nobody answered you, either tired as well or already on their way through the door and out of the arena, back to their sweet sweet home. You got up quickly and grabbed Erza (still next to you but with a very empty plate - you could only guess Mira had sacrificed her even more cakes) to get out.

It was just then that you noticed how far the sun has gone westwards making you suppress another yawn that made its way up. You got to go to bed soon enough anyway so no need to rush.

The way back out was surprisingly swift and without running into any hostile guilds (lucky you). So you were out before Natsu broke something or bumped into somebody.

"Let's go grab something to eat, (Y/N)? You coming?", you heard Gray's voice from behind you, making you turn around and give him a bright smile - only to decline.

"I'd love to, really, but there is that thing I need to get done yet. Don't worry, I'll be back soon, just start without me.", your voice was sweet enough that you nearly even betrayed yourself, if it hadn't been for that tiny tiny voice in your head.

Why don't you just tell them?

But you brushed it off without a second thought, no need to worry your friends about your self-made worries and troubles.

"Okay...", Erza didn't seem as convinced as you would've liked "You sure?"

A simple nod was enough to soothe her and so, you made your way back into town, taking a stroll through the streets devoid of people or friends. You were alone with your thoughts and the memories that came with them.

You sighed making eye contact with the horizon to take in the way the sun was drowning beneath these parts of bustling streets and places.

You hadn't missed the silence that came with the night for you had heard it over and over again in those sleepless nights.

It shamed you to this day that you hadn't noticed the way he was using you, cocooning you in soft and sweet words to make your finger bleed from hard work and your skin shining from the sweat and tears spilled for him. The worst part of it all was that damned silent voice within you, asking again and again if what you were doing was right.

How could you build weapons of mass destruction meant for thousands with a straight face?

How dared you think sacrificing people to a black wizard could be a way to achieve paradise?

How did you fail to notice that you would never be able to sleep after you were so willing to make these sacrifices more for him than for Zeref after all?

Who knew.

Did I know?

You wondered for years if maybe, just maybe, you had known what you were doing. You probably weren't even able to throw the cloak of ignorance over your shoulders to save yourself from the cold feeling of guilt.

Shame, shame on you.

You hated the way he made you feel so far away from everything like he had built a place away from the wars and the screams of the world, simply made for the two of you.

And again, you failed to notice how it was only the mist caught in between your fingers.

"(Y/N)?"

At first, you thought it was only the back of your mind, playing tricks on you by reviving past days and voices. But after some seconds, you had noticed the silhouette nearby and wondered if you had heard his voice.

Maybe you were going crazy.

At first, you noticed the dark blue hair, sticking out to spite the cloak it was put under, then that tattoo you would notice everywhere.

Jellal Fernandes.

Surprisingly enough, your panicking mind took it upon itself to react, stumping you with the bright - borderline hysterical - laugh that came out of your mouth.

You just couldn't help it. The way he appeared after decades with nothing to say but your name just about the moment you had wallowed in self-hate and guilt was just ridiculous.

Jellal stood quiet, not even his face gave away whatever irritated look he might have had, giving your laugh an untimely end. And that was just about what you needed to come back to your right set of mind.

"What are you doing here?" You didn't bother the biting hate in your voice or the way his shoulders slumped from your tone.

"I came because Erza told me you would be here.", he started when he had straightened again "She said it wouldn't be a good idea but I came because I wanted to speak to you."

You didn't trust the way this man looked so sad. You couldn't.

Not even enough to sit next to him when he scuffled over to the next bench and gestured for you to take a seat.

Not ever, not in a thousand years would you take that seat.

So you stood like a tree, unmoving and unwavering in your place, staring at him and ready to defend yourself by any means.

Would he try anything funny?

From the way, you knew him back then? Definitely.

Surprisingly though, he didn't try to press you into sitting down, instead starting to talk about whatever it was that lead him back to you.

"It took me a very long time to properly realize what had happened in the Tower of Heaven" he started "I did things in there that I never remembered to have said or done, horrible things. And when I remembered, it was like watching through the glass as someone else moved my body."

For the blink of an eye, his hand hovered over his head before he opted to pull down his hood and revealed the dark blue hair. Jellal sighed before he put his face in his hands for a few moments as if he was trying to get ahold of his last pieces of sanity.

"And when I understood what I had done, I felt so, so guilty. I tried to sacrifice hundreds - no, thousands of people, I manipulated you, Milliana, and the others to work for my cause. The worst of it all was the way I led you to believe in the lies I told you over and over again. I remember that look of adoration in your eyes and I misused it for these terrifying things."

The way he spoke of these sins the two of you committed so easily made you relive the shame of it over and over again. It was like your mind couldn't stop.

"I need to atone for these sins, for the things I did to you, and I wanted to start by telling you how sorry I am for the way I treated you and led you into believing these tales.

I do not ask for you to forgive me or to see beyond that, I came here to apologize because that is what you deserve."

For the first time since he started talking, he looked into your eyes as if waiting for your response and your mind came to an abrupt halt.

What exactly was it what you were feeling?

Hate?

Sadness?

Anger?

...No.

For the first time in forever, you could sympathize with him - that person who you had thought of as a monster for much longer than you wanted to admit. He had been taken advantage of and used to do whatever malicious things asked of him. He did not have a choice.

What did he feel like when he discovered how many people had been suffering under him? Was it sorrow? Betrayal? Shock? Or even anger?

And only when you were ready to answer was it that you too were looking into these dark eyes.

"I remember every damn word you spoke whenever you looked at me so fondly and I remember how you laughed at me for even believing in your farce. " you didn't try to cover up the bitterness sneaking in when you recalled your heart break into pieces just like that.

"And now that you are sitting in front of me, asking for forgiveness, I don't even feel the hate anymore." it had stilled to numbness in your heart, always there, but only with that hollow feeling, never leaving.

"I cannot forget", you further explained feeling unshed tears prick in your eyes "My memories have become a part of me and they will never leave again. A Sorry won't fix everything."

By then, two or three tears escaped over your face before you could wipe them away, not escaping Jellals gaze.

He turned to look at the ground for a few seconds, then he moved off the bench and cast a sad smile at you, only to walk away from you as if that was his clue to disappear back into the night.

Only when you understood where he going, you set into motion, reaching out for his hand.

"But..."

The blue-haired male revolved when he felt your hand in his, soft as in those memories he still held close. His eyes became wide at the side of your tearing and red eyes, paired with that tiny, hopeful smile directed at him.

"But... I won't give up on you."

His mouth carved up to mirror your smile as he squeezed your hand just like sunlight kissing your skin.

[peterrparrkerr]

Moodboard for the series (don't judge me I usually do gifs, this was something new. Also, I could not get the collar to look right)

So I meant to upload this yesterday but I lost control of it and then got busy, so here's a little over 3k for you!

Also, tagging @snowstark because this is our baby. Ao3 version here!

Idk what to tag this. Dark themes, spanking, forced to choose a punishment, uuuh, not sure what else. Enjoy!

*-*

Bucky knows when Peter is going to have a hard time adjusting to Tony being gone. It had been close to a year since Bucky started working for Tony, and he's gotten familiar with all of Peter's little quirks.

And he knows the slight pout Peter sports as he waits beside Bucky for Tony to come to the door, means Peter's going to be a slight handful.

But Bucky can handle the teenager. He's been in charge of Peter's safety for long enough. Aside from Tony, Bucky knows how to get Peter to do as he's told.

Tony comes down the stairs, suit tailored and travel bag in hand. "What a sight," he grins. "My pets waiting for me."

Bucky clenches his jaw at that, but he doesnt say anything. Peter though, steps up to the Superior nuzzling into Tony's chest.

"Don't go," Peter whined. Bucky watched with a familiar jealous rock in his gut, but he stays still.

"I'll be back in five days," Tony sighed, kissing the top of Peter's curly hair.

Peter's in a pair of soft blue jean shorts and a faded Yankees sweater, the bottom cut off to show off his midriff.

Tony pushes Peter back a little and smiles fondly down at him, fingers fixing the collar around his puppy's neck, little bell tinkling.

"You be good," Tony orders, leaning down to kiss Peter's pouty lips.

Peter sulks as Tony steps away, towards the door and closer to Bucky.

"I'll be back late," Tony hums, patting Bucky on the cheek. "I'll see you both when I get back."

And with that, Tony's gone. Bucky rubs at his cheek with a slight scowl. Its a new thing, Tony touching him. And Bucky doesn't like it.

Peter spins on his heels the moment the door is shut and storms off, making Bucky sigh explosively before making his way after him.

Alpine slows him down by weaving between his legs, meowing needily.

"Damn cat, go away," he snaps, nearly kicking the thing before remembering she's Peter's.

The door to Peter and Tony's bedroom slams and Bucky sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

So it's going to be like this then. Bucky decides to let Peter wallow on his own. Sooner or later his emotions would get the best of him and he'd come out for comfort. Bucky wouldn't force him to before then.

Its the same song and dance. Peter cries when Tony's gone, he doesn't eat much, and just kind of sulks around the house.

If he were a real puppy, Bucky could just imagine him crying at the door with his tail tucked between his legs, looking extra pathetic.

It was during these days when Tony wasn't around that Peter got a little less obedient.

Most incidents Bucky kept to himself. Little scenes of Peter acting out of his emotions. Tony didn't need to be informed of everything.

The bigger incidences though was definitely taken to Tony. They hadn't had an incident in a while -not since Peter ran out and Bucky got shot.

Peter had been terrified after that, refused to leave the tower even with Buck and Tony there with him.

Tony had punished him good and hard for that -it still makes Bucky's stomach roll at the thought of Tony hitting Peter. Bucky still remembers how small he looked when Tony had guided him back into the penthouse.

His eyes all red, tear tracks down blushed cheeks. He had been trembling slightly. It had made Bucky sick to his stomach.

But Peter hadnt done it again. When Tony left, Peter stayed put.

"Peter, time to eat," Bucky called after knocking on the bedroom door. Peter had been locked in there for most of the two days so far Tony's been gone.

He sulks under his covers, and when he does come out, its with a pout. Something Bucky is used to.

"M'not hungry," comes Peter's petulant response through the door.

"Yes you are, pup," Bucky sighed. "Come on, out with you before I come in there."

"Said I wasn't hungry," Peter spoke, voice raising a little. Bucky cocks an eyebrow, then tries the handle of the door. Its locked.

"Peter, open this door."

"No," Peter said.

"You open this door or I'll kick it down," Bucky threatened. Peter's never locked his door before.

"Do it!" Peter snapped. "Then Tony'll be mad at you and send you to the basement!"

"Oh for fuck's sake," Bucky muttered under his breath.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y, override the lock for Peter's door," he says, looking up at the ceiling.

"I am sorry, but the lock is manual, it will have to be unlocked by Peter, Mr. Barnes."

Bucky growls, clenching his teeth.

"Open the door, Peter," he tries again.

"No."

"C'mon, pup, open up," Bucky sighed. He really didn't want to break down the door. What has gotten into Peter? He's never like this.

"Nuh-uh," Peter said. "Leave me alone."

"You know I can't do that, Pete," Bucky huffed.

"I don't need a babysitter," Peter called out. "I can take care of myself. Tony doesn't need you anymore."

"You've got five seconds and then I'm breaking the door down," Bucky said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Peter says nothing. Bucky begins to count. He thinks Peter will crack when he reaches two, but the boy doesn't make a sound.

"Alright, last chance."

Nothing.

Bucky tries the handle once more before stepping back. He lowers his shoulder, ready to drive it into the wood before slamming into the door.

The frame splinters and the door slams into the wall with a deafening crack.

Peter jumps from his spot on the bed, eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock.

"What is going on with you, Peter?" Bucky demands, a little fed up with his behavior. "You've never acted like this before."

Peter's shock falls away to anger, eyebrows furrowing and arms crossing.

"Get out."

"No, you need to tell me why you're acting like a brat," Bucky demanded, crossing his own arms.

"M'not a brat," Peter snipped, little bell sounding as Peter turned his head away from Bucky, glaring at the wall.

"No? 'Cause you seem pretty bratty to me," Bucky challenged.

That gets Peter standing from the bed. "I'm not!"

"I'm not going to fight with a fucking child," Bucky muttered to himself. "Go into the dining room and eat your lunch."

Peter sets his jaw. Its cute. Little thing trying to be tough.

"I said I'm not hungry."

"Well, Tony wants you to eat," Bucky tries. Usually talking about what Tony wants would get Peter to do as he's told. But it doesn't work today.

So Bucky grabs Peter by the upper arm and pulls him out of the room. Peter grunts, digging his heels in, but he's small and doesn't have much muscle.

"Eat," Bucky demands, gesturing to the food he sits Peter down in front of.

Peter glares up at him, though its not as effective as he thinks with his pastel blue tshirt and matching collar.

"I hate you," Peter bites out.

"Good for you, now eat your God damn lunch before I force feed you."

To say the next three days is difficult is an understatement. Bucky has no idea why Peter's acting out the way he is, but he's had enough.

On the fourth day, Bucky actually swatted him! Peter looked up at him with wide eyes, mouth clicking shut. Bucky instantly felt sick, but he forced himself to stand his ground even as hurt and anger filtered through Peter's features.

"You hit me," Peter said. It made Bucky feel even worse, but he didnt back down.

"You're being bad," Bucky said. More anger filtered in, and Peter reached forward to try and shove him.

Bucky caught him by the wrists and Peter yelled loudly, beginning to flail.

"Peter, stop it!" Bucky snapped, pulling the pup in close and pinning him against his chest. He doesn't have room to thrash now.

"I hate you! I hate you!" Peter yelled. Bucky can hear the beginnings of tears in his voice. "I don't want you here! I want- I want Tony!"

Bucky holds Peter as he chokes on his tears, forcing Bucky to carry his weight when Peter stops holding himself up.

Bucky let's him cry it out, walking him to his bedroom. The door still wasn't fixed -Bucky didn't have time, what with Peter acting out.

He deposited Peter onto the bed. "You can come out when you're done being a brat," Bucky said shortly. Peter just fell to his side, wrapping his arms around a pillow and drawing up his legs.

Bucky walked out and flopped onto the couch, leaning his head back and staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe Tony would know what Peter's problem was. Just because he's never acted like this since Bucky moved in doesn't mean its never happened before.

Bucky's never been more glad when Tony arrives the next morning. He's exhausted. Tony -the perceptive bastard- notices right away when Bucky greets him at the elevator.

"What happened," Tony demanded. Bucky let out a sigh, shoulders slumping just a bit. He didnt like feeling like a whiner, and explaining to Tony what the past five days have been like definitely makes him feel it.

"I don't know whats gotten into him," he finishes with. He just wants to sleep for a couple days. He's never felt more like a babysitter than he does now.

"Oh, I do," Tony huffed. Bucky raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "He's jealous."

That throws Bucky for a loop. "Jealous? Of what?" He can't help but demand incredulously.

Tony smiles knowingly and lifts his hand, brushing his fingers over Bucky's jaw, pinching his chin and giving a little shake.

"Of you, pet," Tony hums, looking amused. "He's used to getting my full attention. I think he's feeling a bit misplaced."

Bucky lifts his head, pulling his chin free from Tony's grasp and taking a small step back.

"He's got no reason to be jealous of me," Bucky grunted.

"No?" Tony asked. "Lets go see our puppy then, hmm?"

Bucky frowns as Tony walks past him into the penthouse. Our puppy?

He quickly spins on his heels and follows after Tony. Theres a disapproved hum when Tony notices the door leaning against the door.

"Tony!"

Peter scrambles from the bed, rushing over to Tony and crashing into his chest. Bucky keeps his distance, hands clasped behind his back.

"I missed you."

"I'm sure," Tony hummed. "Bucky told me about your behavior while I was gone."

Bucky winces in sympathy at the tone Tony uses with Peter. The pup steps back from him, brows furrowing.

"I-"

"I don't want any excuses," Tony interrupted. Bucky watched as Peter's demeanor shifted. He knew he was in trouble, he could see it in the way Peter's shoulders slumped.

"Go wait for me in your room," Tony continued. "And when we're gone, we're going to have a talk."

"But, Tony‐" Peter began. Tony grabs him by the arm and yanks him towards the elevator that leads to the basement.

"Go," he snaps, features twisting into a look of anger. Bucky holds his ground, but he wants to rush back out of Tony's line of fire.

Peter shrinks at the tone. He doesn't try again, just makes his way to the elevator, like a dog scurrying out of trouble with his tail between his legs.

"Are you really going to punish him?" Bucky asked, following Tony towards the elevator Peter had just disappeared through. "If he's just acting out of jealousy-"

"His acting out got me a broken door and a puppy with an attitude problem," Tony said. "I brought you here to take care of him while I'm away. His behavior hindered that and that won't do."

Bucky follows Tony into the elevator. He doesn't say anything, just stands beside Tony, watching the floors pass in glowing numbers above the doors.

When they reach the basement floor, the doors open and Tony steps out, already heading for the door that leads to Peter's room.

"Come on, pet," Tony calls over his shoulder. Bucky's legs work without him, taking him out of the elevator and into the main room.

"I'm not a pet," Bucky grunted. Tony glances over his shoulder, smirking. His blue eyes shining with amusement.

"I beg to differ," Tony hummed, before reaching a hand out and clasping Bucky by the back of the neck.

Bucky allows the Superior to pull him closer as they make their way to the door.

Buck decides not to argue the issue. Better to keep on Tony's good side.

Tony opens the door, and Bucky's eyes widen at the sight of Peter on the bed, naked. Hes on his elbows and knees, pert little ass up in the air.

He's hidden his face in his arms, and doesn't realize Bucky is here with Tony.

"He does paint a pretty picture, doesn't he?" Tony murmurs lowly, arm still wrapped around Bucky's shoulders, nosing at Bucky's jaw.

"I can leave," Bucky says lowly, glancing from Peter to Tony.

"No, I want you here," Tony decides, shutting the door. Bucky chews on his inner cheek, staying close to the door as Tony walks over to the wall of -Bucky feels his stomach drop. He doesn't know if he can watch this.

"M'sorry," Peter whines, turning his head to see Tony at the wall.

"I know you are," Tony said, looking over the items hanging on the wall. Bucky's never seen so many switches and floggers before.

"But that doesn't change the fact that you were a bad puppy."

Peter's breath hitches and he hides his face again. Bucky watches Tony pick out a flat leather paddle from the wall. One of the less intimidating items hanging on the wall.

"How many hits do you think he deserves?" Tony says, catching both Peter and Bucky off guard. Peter's head turns, wide eyes locking onto him before he seems to shrink, hiding his face away again, but not leaving the position Tony most likely trained him to be in.

It takes Bucky a moment to realize Tony was talking to him, and he blinks, looking over at the Superior. "What?"

"You had to deal with his poor behavior for five days, so you decide his punishment," Tony said.

Bucky looks wide eyed at Peter, pale and naked except for the baby blue collar around his neck. He shakes his head.

"Come on, pet," Tony goads. "What does he deserve?"

Bucky hears Peter whimper at that and he feels his skin crawl. He shakes his head again, feeling sick. "I can't."

Tony's mouth drops in a frown, looking disappointed. Bucky doesn't care. He can't.

"Fine," he hums. "Then fifty hits."

Peter lifts his head, breath hitching and tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Ten for each day."

Bucky feels his throat closing up.

"N-no," Peter sobbed. "No, please, Tony!"

Tony looks at Bucky, challenging glint in his Extremis blue eyes. "Bucky doesn't want to choose, so I'm chosing for him, puppy."

Peter turns to look at Bucky, pleasing with a trembling breath.

Bucky digs his nails into his palms. He looks from Peter to Tony, then back to Peter.

If Bucky chooses a lower number, Tony may not agree to it. But Bucky doesn't want Peter being hit -especially in front of him.

"Twenty," he manages to say, unsticking his throat. His voice is tense, body rigid and hands clasped behind him. Outwardly, he looks calm and collected, but inside he wants to do nothing but run out of the basement.

Tony doesn't say anything for a moment, and Bucky's sure its just as long for Peter as it is for him.

"Alright, twenty it is," Tony agrees. Bucky feels the muscles in his shoulders unwind a little at that.

"Count them out, pup."

Its the worst few minutes of Bucky's life. He served tours over seas. He's killed people with his bear hands and lost an arm, and he'd go through all of that ten times if it meant he didn't have to be in the same room as Tony and Peter right now.

Each smack has Bucky's pulse spiking, each sobbed out count down like agony. Its a punishment all its own to be forced to stand by while Peter cries, the loud smack of leather on skin filling the room.

The worst thing is Bucky is the reason he's got twenty spanks in the first place. Sure, its less than fifty, but he's still the one who offered a number.

Bucky doesn't even care anymore about Peter's behavior. He just wants Tony to stop.

Peter's ass is just as red as his face, and his breath hitches on cries, but the boy doesn't move. Bucky has no doubt if he had, the punishment would be far worse.

"Twen-twen'y," Peter finally gasps out wetly, dropping onto the bed.

Bucky restrains himself from rushing over there and scooping the boy up. His nails dig painfully into his palms.

He watches Tony do it instead. Watches as Tony's hand turns soft, scooping Peter up and settling him onto his lap, careful of his poor bottom.

Tony smooths Peter's curls from his forehead, muttering lowly against Peter's cheek as the boy cries, arms lifting to wrap around Tony's shoulders.

Tony glances up at Bucky and nods. "Come here, pet."

Bucky's too concerned with Peter to argue the pet name. He makes his way over to the bed in three long strides and sits down beside Tony and Peter.

Peter peeks out from Tony's neck, eye red rimmed. His breath hitches.

"M'sorry, Bucky," he cries, voice reedy and wobbling with tears.

"Thats alright, Pete," Bucky said softly.

Peter tucks himself back into Tony's neck, allowing the Superior to smooth his hands up and down Peter's bare back.

"Go with with Bucky, pup," Tony says a moment later, once Peter's tears have tapered off a little. Bucky's eyes widen at that, but he can't do much else, because Peter's crawling out of Tony's lap and settling into his own.

Bucky doesn't know what to do. He's wearing cargo pants, and he can't help but worry they're too rough for Peter.

And then he's stuck on the fact that he's got a very naked Peter in his lap. The boy leans into Bucky's chest, head resting on his shoulder.

Bucky settles a hand on Peter's lower back -as low as he dares- and rubs circles into his skin.

"I think its time we had a little talk," Tony said, looking first at Peter, then at Bucky.

[shuadotcom]

Don’t Leave Me | KSJ

➤ Summary: Whether it was something small like a scraped knee or something bigger like the death of someone close, Seokjin made sure he was always there to hold your hand and be your shield. He’d done just that throughout your marriage up until that day. You had asked him to do the simplest of things, and he refused.

➤ Pairing: Seokjin x Female!Reader

➤ Rating & Genre: PG-15, angst, fluff (at the end), established relationship au, idolverse

➤ Warnings: A few curse words, mention of a car accident, mention of a coma

➤ Word Count: 1.8k

➤ A/N: This is for the wonderful, lovely, amazing @aroseforyoongi​! Happy birthday, Eva!!! 🎉 I hope you enjoy some angsty husband Jin you magnificent human! ❤️❤️

Nothing was out of the ordinary that morning. It was early spring, so the weather was nice out. The windows were open in the apartment, letting the warm breeze inside. The radio was turned on low on the coffee table as a ballad played. You were sitting on the couch surrounded by schoolwork as you graded papers your class had turned in that week.

Seokjin was curled up next to you, his eyes skimming over a script for a new drama he was going to start filming soon. Days like these were his favorite. He had no interviews to film, no dance routines to learn, and no one to impress except the woman sitting next to him.

"Jinnie, I want coffee." You whined suddenly, pulling Seokjin away from his reading. He raises his eyebrow at the cutesy tone in your voice that told him you wanted something.

"Well, go into the kitchen and make yourself some." 

"We don't have anymore. Wanna walk with me to the cafe down the street and get some?" 

He should've said yes to you. He should've gotten off of the couch, slipped on his shoes, and gone with you. It wasn't that far from your apartment, so it wouldn't have been too much trouble. Yet, he was feeling exceptionally lazy and didn't have the desire to move. So instead, he said no. Even when you pouted and widened your beautiful eyes at him, Seokjin still held onto his unwillingness and denied you.

"It's not that far; you’ll be fine by yourself," he said. Stupid. He had been so stupid. He sent you off with a quick kiss on the lips and a request for you to bring him back a latte. He hadn't even told you that he loved you.

You had always said that Seokjin made you feel safe. That was something that you put in your vows, which you had written yourself. He promised you, when you wed two years ago, that he'd always keep you safe no matter what. He said he would protect you against anything that'd try and hurt you.

Whether it was something small like a scraped knee or something bigger like the death of someone close, Seokjin made sure he was always there to hold your hand and be your shield. He’d done just that throughout your marriage up until that day. You had asked him to do the simplest of things, and he refused.

Seokjin knew something was wrong when almost an hour went by, and you weren’t home. You only lived within ten minutes from the cafe, so the walk shouldn't have taken that long. When he got the call from the hospital, he knew his worrying wasn't for nothing.

A car had blown out a tire and skidded off of the road, careening towards the sidewalk and hitting you on your way home. You’ve been in a coma for a week now, and there are no words to describe how Seokjin feels. He failed you, and this was his fault. He can’t lose you. You’re his reason for being, and if it wasn't for you, he knows he wouldn't be anywhere near as happy.

"Hey, are you going to eat?" Yoongi asks, stopping to check on his friend once again. Seokjin shakes his head, his hand still curled around your limp one. He stares at the book in his other hand, his eyes read the words, but his brain doesn’t process them.

Yoongi sighs before leaving the room. He'll bring Seokjin something anyway. It's what he's been doing the entire time you’ve been in the hospital to make sure the other man didn't pass out from starvation.

With a sigh, Seokjin puts down the book he’s been staring at and looks at the face of his wife. "Hey, honey. The doctors say even though you’re still in a coma, your vitals are looking good. You should be back to nagging me in no time,” he jokes. Seokjin could swear the corner of your mouth twitched just the slightest bit at his words.

"They also say that talking to you will help you wake up. Voices of loved ones are supposed to help stimulate your brain or something. I don't know. I mean, I told them you're already a genius, so there wouldn’t be much I could do. You'll probably wake up on your own without my help at all. You’ve always been the smarter one between the two of us." Seokjin's eyes glance towards the various machines connected to tubes in your arms, and he feels his stomach churn.

"I still can't believe...I can't believe I did this to you." His grip on your hand tightens. "All I had to do was leave the damn house, and I couldn't even do that for you. What kind of selfish bastard does that?" Seokjin's voice cracks, and he takes his bottom lip into his mouth, gnawing on it to hold back tears. "If I could, I would go back. I would go in your place to the cafe, so this wouldn't have happened. You don't deserve to be lying in this hospital bed right now." He lets out a sob then, unable to fight back the tears that began to blur his vision.

“Y/n, I'm sorry. This is all my fault. I'm so, so sorry. I promise I'll be better, and I'll protect you better. I'll get you coffee every day, whether it be from down the street or across town. Hell, I'd fly to France to get you French coffee on a whim if you wanted. I’ll get you whatever you want. I just, I can’t do this without you. You’re my voice of reason. You’re the one who leads me where I need to go in this world. I don’t know where I’d be without you, Y/n. Please, please come back." Seokjin drops his head onto the side of the bed and loses his ability to speak. He’s relieved that Yoongi had shut the door when he left the room so no one can hear him weep into the scratchy hospital sheets.

Eventually, he falls asleep in that position, his hand clutching yours and his head lying on the edge of the bed. Sleep hasn’t been easy on him and tonight is no exception. He stirs throughout the night, images both positive and negative in his head. He dreams of you finally waking up and smiling at him and telling him that you love him. 

He also dreams of you lying in that hospital bed for seven more days, then seven more months, and eventually seven more years. It’s not the first time he’s dreamt something like that. He always wakes up gasping and clutching his head after those dreams, which are more like nightmares.

Seokjin jolts awake at nearly three in the morning after a harrowing dream. The room is dark and quiet, save for the small lights and sounds coming from the medical equipment. Deciding that he needs a drink of water for his scratchy throat, he begrudgingly lets go of your hand and raises himself from the uncomfortable plastic chair he had become one with.

He’s only gone for five minutes, if even that. As soon as he rounds the corner with his bottle of water in hand and sees the pair of nurses flocking towards your room, he doesn’t have to think twice before he’s hauling ass and sprinting down the hallway. 

Seokjin expects the worse in those five seconds it takes him to reach your room. He expects the machine to be displaying a flat line or for you to be having a complication of some sort. Anything could be waiting for him in that room.

The last thing he expects was for you to be awake and looking around. 

He’s frozen in the doorway as he watches the nurses ask you questions and check the machines around you. A doctor lightly pushes past him and does the same thing the nurses did. Eventually, they all file out of the room, decreeing that your vitals all seem well and that they’re happy to see you awake. Even when the two of you are alone and given your privacy, Seokjin still stands frozen at the door.

"So, are you going to just stand there and stare at me without saying hi?" You croak, adjusting your position in bed. Seokjin is next to you in a flash, fluffing the pillow behind your back and helping you get comfortable.

"I'm so sorry," he blurts out. "I am so, so sorry. Before I hug or kiss you or tell you how crazy I have been going, I just want to say that I'm sorry."

Your face frowns in confusion as you look up at him. "Sorry for what?"

"For putting you here! For letting you go by yourself and letting this happen to you! I’ve been trying for the past week to figure out something to say to you when you woke, so you'll forgive me and not think I'm a shit husband. This is my fault, and I'm sorry, and I don't know what else to say." Seokjin waits for you to yell at him or tell him how much his apologies weren't going to work this time. Instead, you roll your eyes at him and sigh.

"Seokjin, please tell me you have not been sitting here wallowing in self-pity this whole time. The fact that you think this is your fault is stupid." Seokjin opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a raised hand. "You can't be everywhere with me all of the time. We both lead different lives, and no matter how hard you try, you can't be a superhero. Accidents happen, and that's just the way life is. I love the fact that you want to protect me and all, but what happened is not your fault."

"But I-"

"But nothing."

"Y/n, just-"

"Seokjin. The only thing I want to hear is how much you missed me. I don't want you saying anything bad about yourself, and I don’t want any more apologizes."

"But baby-"

"No buts!" 

The two of you have a brief stare down until Seokjin acts. He leans forward, cradling your face in his hands, and brings his lips to yours. The kiss isn’t intense or too long, but it’s more than enough. It’s enough for him to let you know how much he’s missed you and how much he loves you. It’s soft and light and drawn out and just right. 

In his head, he’s still blaming himself, and he probably will for the foreseeable future, but he keeps it to himself as he celebrates the fact that he gets to kiss his wife again and that you’re okay. He’ll make sure he’s always there to watch over you and kiss you as much as he wants. Whether you like it or not, he’s going to keep you close to him no matter what it takes if it means you’ll be with him forever.

[tenthgrove]

More yandere Tiziano can't squalo plz

Squalo and Tiziano- The Escape

Yandere Squalo and Tiziano x Reader (GN)

Content Warnings: Coerced Relationships, dub-con kissing, manipulation

(A/N: Since this request was quite open-ended I decided to take my own approach and write a short fic about what happens when you try to escape from them. This scenario is set in the same canon as the previous post on yandere Squalo and Tiziano, about a month after Reader is forced to move in.)

This house is uncanny in its shallow attractiveness. A wonderful meditteranean retreat, spacious bedrooms and sprawling gardens, two beautiful men who fawn and wait on you constantly.

It would be the stuff of dreams, had you not been forced to be here.

You awake to Squalo and Tiziano's voices calling you from the hall. You should have figured that your insistence on sleeping in the spare room last night would leave them extra clingy all morning. Every time you manage to get away from them for a bit, they always bring their affections back 10-fold the next time you're forced to wallow in their presence. Maybe it was a mistake, in retrospect, to insist on such a thing when all it ever achieves is putting off the innevitable, but on the other hand if you had agreed to one more night pressed between them like some wrangled stuffed toy you think you might have screamed.

Taking a deep breath, you remind yourself that this will all be behind you in a few hours.

Your first port of call is to throw some clothes on and check the bags hidden away down the side of the wardrobe. You've been carefully shifting all your more important belongings into them for the best part of the week. God knows if they find them, no excuse in the world will conceal what your plan was.

::::::::::::

Breakfast is as you expect. Tiziano cooks for the three of you while Squalo whines about how much he missed holding you last night. You force yourself not to lash out at him since you know your plan depends on keeping them happy for the next hour or so. You smile, and nod, and indulge their petty conversation while you eat, before heading back to the spare room to finish getting dressed.

You see, the best part of your plan is that they know you're leaving today. You have their permission to go shopping and, with some convincing, to go alone. The 'escape' part is simply that you have no intention to come back.

You wheel your suitcase quietly down to the front room, clutching your handbag tightly. Inside is 300 euros that Tiziano willingly gave you, after you mentioned that a shopping trip might lift your spirits.

How kind of him to fund your breakout.

Your heart rises with hope as you fiddle the key into the lock, only to sink down again as you hear a voice behind you.

"You're not leaving without saying goodbye, are you Tesoro?" Squalo calls. Shit, he heard you. You quickly shove your suitcase behind a plant pot and put your hands behind your back before the pair join you in the front room. They smile, and you fight the urge to scowl.

"Are you sure we can't come with you, love?" Tiziano pleads.

"No. It's nice of you to offer but I'd really like to do this by myself," you insist, adding a curt smile.

"Alright beautiful, we understand," Tiziano sighs, tracing his fingertips up your arm in a way that makes your skin twitch. "Now, how about a kiss goodbye?" he requests. Your insides curl. This is the part you were hoping to avoid. Still, no point in dragging it out or you might never leave.

You take a sharp breath and lean forward, eyes closed. Tiziano's kiss is bearable enough, tender and gentle so that it's easy enough to ignore the sensation. That comes to a screeching halt when Squalo yanks you from his arms, smashing his mouth against yours like his life depends on it. You push him off in revulsion, but it seems he's satisfied enough.

"Alright beautiful, off you go," Squalo chuckles.

"Yes, thank you," you say. There's an awkward pause as they smile at you, waiting for you to leave. You'd hoped they would bugger off so you could get your suitcase back but that doesn't seem to be the case.

"Well, aren't you going to go?" Tiziano prompts you. You exhale.

"Yes, goodbye," you concede, walking out the door sans-suitcase. Damn, you really wanted to take your stuff with you but you guess you'll have to manage. As long as you've got your money and documents, you'll be fine.

You look back blankly at Squalo and Tiziano as they wave you off from the window. You won't miss those two.

::::::::::::

Your feet feel like stone. Walking for an hour was fine, two was uncomfortable, three was tiring and nine is getting downright unbearable. Barring your quick stop for lunch you've been walking non-stop and you're really starting to think you won't be able to make it.

Your original plan was to walk to your friend's house and plead for shelter, hence avoiding a risky phone call that might be traced by the mysterious syndicate Squalo and Tizianio claim to work for. You have high-confidence in the viability of this idea- your friend is hardly the sort to refuse to rescue you from a situation like this and they weren't on the list of relatives the pair used to threaten you when they first made themselves known to you. That means they don't know where this person lives.

But, all that's for nought if you can't actually get to the place.

In Squalo and Tiziano's house, control was always achieved through the fear of the power they might possess. Never once did they threaten to hit, starve, isolate or deprive you. And yet, every time they would passingly mention how their syndicate had eyes in every town and village, you felt yourself shiver.

You don't want to stop at a hotel. You don't want to stop anywhere run by people you don't know, just go straight from A to B. But this doesn't look anything like the area your friend lives in, and your feet are ready to give out on you.

Worse, the sun is starting to set.

Damn it all, you think. You make a B-line for the nearest hotel and force your fears to the back of your mind.

You know it's stupid, but you half expected a squadron of armed mobsters to burst out of the staffroom the second you approached the receptionist. Of course, Squalo and Tiziano have probably only just realised you aren't coming back and even then, there's no way they'd have found you this quickly. You remain calm as you ask for a room, even as the receptionist makes clear you aren't getting it without showing your i.d. No matter, you think. You'll only be here for one night.

::::::::::::

Dawn brings with it a new sense of optimism when you awake to find your hotel room as you last saw it. You're not in the trunk of the car, bound or threatened at gun-point, and there certainly isn't anyone clinging onto you in the bed. It would seem that you've made it through the night undetected.

In other words, you've made it through the hardest part.

You dress quickly and gather your things. You don't think you'll stay around for breakfast; it would be better to just pick something up from the shops and eat as you go. You found a hotel leaflet with a map of the local area, and it seems you're less far from your friend's house than you thought you were yesterday. With any luck, you'll have reached it by the next day.

And thus, your freedom begins.

You check out at the reception without issue and begin the final stretch of your journey. That's when you get the distinct feeling you're being watched.

You're not even at the end of the street when a car pulls up beside you, the voice within stopping you dead in your tracks.

"You know darling, it isn't usually typical to go shopping for 22 hours straight, but we're glad you enjoyed yourself," Tiziano cajoles. You snap around to meet eyes with him, sitting in his car with Squalo at his side, both smiling gleefully. They're enjoying this.

You look around, your ankles shaking as though you aren't sure what direction to take. The locals clearly take no notice to the sight of someone being hollered at on the street, and given how deep syndicate control supposedly runs in this area, you doubt they'd care much more if you were to be dragged in.

You could run, you could always run, but they've got a car and you're willing to bet quite a few weapons. Even if you gave them the slip, you're now close enough to your final destination that tracking you down would be a piece of cake.

Shit, shit, shit. You guess you don't have much of a choice.

Fists clenched, you avoid eye contact as you approach the car, climbing into the back with your head bowed in defeat. Squalo chuckles lightly.

"You're really too cruel, love. Forcing me to spend two nights without your embrace in a row," he chides you.

"Not to worry, we kept ourselves busy. Registering at a hotel in your own name? Really darling, how amateur!" Tiziano remarks. You growl lowly. That's it. Consequences be damned.

"How about you two just fuck right off to hell!?" you explode. "Damn the both of you! I was doing just fine until you waltzed on over and decided you fancied having me for yourselves! Fuck you! Fuck you both!"

Tiziano laughs.

"Oh darling, do you really expect us to believe you hate us so strongly when you were so quick to get into this car?"

"What?! That doesn't- You would have chased after me if I didn't!" you protest.

"Oh, definitely," Tiziano concurs. "But don't you think you would have at least tried to flee if being with us was such a horrible fate?"

"You threatened my family! You threatened me!"

"We did no such thing. All we did was politely remind you we're aware of your addresses," Tiziano reiterates.

"Like I don't know what that's meant to imply!" you fume.

"Alright, we'll play along. Maybe we were a bit pushy in making you ours," Squalo admits teasingly. "But I honestly can't remember the last time I saw you look afraid. Angry, yes. So attractively angry..."

"...But the fear your words would imply you feel for us simply isn't there, Amore," Tiziano agrees with him. He finds a suitable spot and pulls the car to a halt, turning to you fully. He takes your chin in his hand as Squalo brings a hand to your shoulder.

"Can you truly, honestly claim to despise being with us as much as you'd assert?" Tiziano presses you. You go quiet.

"Just as we thought," Squalo scoffs. "Now, I'd say we've both earned another kiss."

[get-shiggy-with-it]

#1 Victory Royale

✧ pairing: college student!spinner x student!afab!reader

✧ word count: 4.4k

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, light angst, mostly soft/fluff, smut, could be hate fucking if you squint, afab reader but no pronouns, this is pretty tame, by like my standards, I wrote this at work, not really a warning, but it felt like you needed to know that

✧ summary: relationships suck and Spinner is starting to think maybe he does too

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, welcome back to more college au bs from me. This is set in the same universe once again as all my other college pieces. A very sweet anon asked if we'd ever get to see more of Spinner, so here he is! Also with another cameo from shiggy's bitch (endearing) cause I can't help myself.

“Ughhhhhh….”

Spinner’s groaning echoed through the tiny apartment, the heavy sound of creaking couch cushions under his weight following.

“What?” his long-suffering roommate shouted out their bedroom door, rapidly shoving clothing and a toothbrush into an overnight bag.

“Uggghhhhhhh!”

He let out with another, louder dying animal wail. He’d been like this since they woke up—wallowing in some strange concoction of self pity and Red Bull on the kitchen floor when they walked in for water two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” they mumbled, tossing their bag to the floor and marching, more than a little disgruntled, into the hall. “What do you want?”

Spinner was sitting upside down on the couch now, feet up against the wall tapestry and cotton candy hair splayed out on the floor. He stared blankly as his friend came into view—arms crossed, frowning at him from the end of the hall—and opened his mouth once more, letting out another garbled grunt that had one of the neighbors pounding twice on the wall to shut his dramatic ass up.

“Dude seriously, are you gonna tell me who pissed in your cereal or are you just gonna scream until the guys next door kick a hole through our wall?”

They almost felt bad as he looked away, sniffing and letting himself slump farther off the sofa until he was sprawled completely on the hardwood and staring, glassy eyed, up at the ceiling.

When he finally spoke a full sentence, his gaze was locked on the water stain above him from a year ago when the upstairs neighbors flooded their apartment trying to make jungle juice in the bathtub.

“I don’t know, I’m just in my feels as the kids say,” he sounded so dejected—strange for someone who was perpetually energized to a frustrating degree—that their shoulders immediately slumped from a hardass square to a softer, more sympathetic angle

They padded over to join him on the floor.

“Care to elaborate, oh roomie of mine?”

There was a pause and Spinner tapped his nails against the hardwood idly before responding.

“I guess I’m just feeling, like, fucking I don’t know,” he sighed, knocking his head against the dusty boards, “left out I guess? That’s not quite right, but it’s just Magne mentioned last time she came to The League meeting that Jin was seeing somebody and it just got me all introspective and weird…”

“Hm,” his roommate hummed thoughtfully and studied the way the textured white ceiling gave way to the rings of brown water damage, like a dead and dying flower, “I thought you and Jin weren’t ever that serious?”

“We weren’t,” Spinner groaned again and rubbed his eyes. “We went on like, one date a year ago and I haven’t thought about it really at all since then. I’m not sure why hearing he’s got someone else now made me so fucking...jealous I guess.”

“I mean, maybe you just never really gave yourself the time to process it?” they asked and received only an annoyed huff and accompanying groan. “Sorry, should have asked if you were looking for advice or just wanting to rant. My bad.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it’s just…”

Spinner trailed off and they shifted as the hard floor bit at their back and made it ache. The muscles were sore already as it was, and Tomura blowing their fucking back a few times a week wasn’t really helping. They’d created some kind of perpetually horny monster, but something told them cracking a joke about it wasn’t really going to help the situation much. Thankfully, Spinner found his way to filling the silence a minute later.

“I don’t think it has anything specifically to do with Jin. Yeah I liked him, we’re still really good friends and I don’t feel like I need him to be more than that. It’s just that—and this is gonna make me sound like a massive asshole—but with you and your new fucking boyfie and now even Jin finding someone to date I just keep seeing reminders everywhere of how motherfucking isolated I am.”

“Oh,” they felt their face burn a bit, guilt frothing as they were forced to acknowledge the fact that in all the time they’ve spent holed up with Tomura, Spinner had been discarded like an old Steam game, bought impulsively on sale and never played again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been prioritizing you—”

“No, no, no shut the fuck with that,” he waved his hand to cut them off and pushed himself up on his palms. “I know I’m not being fair about it, and I really am happy for you guys, but idk man….I just feel like I’m never gonna find that you know?”

Beside him, his roommate remained sprawled out on the floor like a homicide tape outline and was just as deadly quiet.

“I just,” he continued, running an angry hand through his hair, “I know I could be such a good partner. Like I’m funny and I’m not a fucking creep, which is actually a plus to most people.”

He shot a side glance down and they rolled their eyes, sitting up and knocking his shoulder roughly till he toppled back to the dirty floor and they stood above him.

“Fuck off,” they chuckled.

His roommate watched as the laughter seemed to infect him like a bad cold, creeping down the back of his throat and shaking in his chest.

“No I’m serious, I would be such a fucking great boyfriend. I give goddamn top quality cuddles and I actually know how to do laundry, what more does one need truly?”

“Damn bro, you’ve known how to fold your own clothes this whole time?”

The giggling spread into the quiet space, rocking through both their shoulders and leaving the air feeling light—fresh like the first nights of Spring. When it finally petered out into friendly silence, they were both far lighter.

“I just like the way you fold my t-shirts, the sleeves don’t get those weird creases when you do it,” he muttered and stood, doing his best to fix the wild pink locks that stood on end from his fidgeting.

“Yeah I’m sure,” his roommate rolled their eyes and turned back down the hall.

When they left for the night to stay over with their boyfriend, Spinner tried not to acknowledge the way he subconsciously glared at their back as they walked out the door, skipping yet another League meeting to swap spit with that guy from their English class.

He tried even harder not to think of how their bed would be warm and their legs would have legs to tangle with, their chest have a chest to lay against, while he heated up instant noodles in the microwave and fell asleep alone on their living room couch.

Not to mention that tonight was the big tournament with that new group on campus. He was really banking on his bff (best fucking friend as they were always sure to clarify) and him teaming up to crush those assholes from The Commission or whatever they called themselves.

Fucking lame as shit name in his opinion.

In any case, he’d have to settle for Magne again, and she was such a loose cannon they were sure to get their asses handed to them. She was a great fucking tank, he’d be the first to admit, but strategy was not a strong point of hers and they desperately needed that tonight.

He could feel the sinking weight of failure rolling in the pit of his stomach already even as he dragged himself into his room to tug on an old pair of jeans.

It bothered him way more than it should, the idea of losing some gaming tournament that, by all means held little to no actual significance.

Spinner knew the stock he’d started placing in games was growing to an unhealthy degree.

He knew that.

But self awareness rarely did anything to alleviate the irrational fear of failing at one of the only remaining consistencies in his life.

It stung worse when the tournament kicked off and by the third round, Spinner was the only remaining League member in the brackets.

“Fucking shit…” he muttered to himself, the small basement room alight with the blue glow of the monitor and the sound of frantically smashing controllers.

Behind him on the couch—stolen long ago from the theater building—Magne held him by the shoulders as he grit his teeth and leaned into the movement of his avatar on screen.

“You got this babe,” she shouted, cheek pressed up to his ear. “Make ‘em eat shit for me!”

“I would if you stopped distracting me,” Spinner hissed back.

Really it wasn’t Magne’s aggressive and somewhat bloodthirsty style of encouragement that shook his focus so badly.

It was his opponent.

The fucking president of The Commission sat, thighs spread and pressed to his, resting your weight on your elbows and snarling beside him in the couch.

Your face was split in this heart stopping grin as you quite deftly dodged all his attempts to get a hit in and managed to land a few of your own in the process.

And you looked really hot doing it.

Which was definitely just a side effect of the punch he (didn’t) drink and the body heat fueled temperature of the room—sweaty skin against sweaty skin making his mind wander against his will.

The shifting in his seat was absolutely just to illogically make him move faster and had nothing to do with how tight his pants now seemed.

So much for not being a fucking creep.

Your teammates were gathered in a circle behind you, enraptured and exuding the kind of smug confidence that said quite clearly The League was fucked from the second they walked in.

Not even two minutes later your hands were thrown up, punching the air and your team piling over the back of the couch to drown you in a sea of celebratory limbs.

Spinner felt himself deflating even as he was toppled off the couch by your screaming members and The League collectively cursed in the background.

Truthfully he’d known the chances of winning were slim.

Ever since his roommate started getting busy with classes and clubs that ‘looked good on their resume,’ The League had gone downhill rapidly. It was a problem since long before that Shigaraki guy swooped in and stole them away, but Spinner couldn’t stop himself from lowkey holding that against him.

The League had consumed so much of his life in college, functioning as a haven where he was finally respected and belonged to an extent he’d never experienced before.

The stink of failure and loss, not of the game but the only space he’d ever really occupied without complaint, burned his face and made the room feel more suffocating than usual.

Magne looked as though she wanted to give him one of her signature—and admittedly very comforting—hugs, but the deadly look of disappointment on Spinner’s face must have made her think twice.

The rest of his team seemed to read this sudden downward shift in the room as they began to filter out, climbing the steps onto street level and away from the suddenly stuffy, uncomfortable meeting spot. Normally everyone would stay and finish off the drinks snuck past the janitorial staff, eating Doritos until well past midnight. This time they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

He couldn’t really blame them.

The multimedia building was a strange place after hours. Once Spinner might have called it something rare and liminal, now it felt more like a prison.

He stood, packing up the consoles a bit more roughly than necessary when someone cleared their throat behind him.

He turned to see you, standing alone with hands on your hips and scowling like you were the one who just got their gaming reputation ruined.

“Dude what the fuck was that?”

Spinner bristled at the knife sharp point of your tone.

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You seriously waited around to rub your win in my face?”

You rolled your eyes and took a step closer around the couch. “I’m not talking about the fucking game dumbass. Why the hell are you pouting like I stole your fucking candy or some shit? You ruined the vibes man.”

“If anyone was ruining the vibes, it was you and your cocky ass team.”

Spinner felt himself stepping closer too, pulled in by the celestial weight that accompanied any kindling argument.

“Me?” you pointed to your chest and scoffed, “Wow, I was really hoping you’d actually possess a bit of emotional maturity, but if this is how you get after a loss I’m not shocked your fucking club is bleeding members.”

At some point the two of you had gravitated close enough that he felt the puff of your last breath on his cheeks. Two comets, ready and willing to collide.

“I’m not being the asshole in this situation, you know that right?” Spinner glared down his nose at you, heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t make fucking unfounded assumptions about people you don’t know.”

“So then why are your panties in a twist over a fucking game?” you retorted.

He was peripherally aware that your eyes had taken on the same laser focused quality as they had during the last round. Determined and locked onto him without sparing a glance to anything else.

It was this same undivided attention that he’d envied in you as you played, and as Spinner felt it trained on him, his pants once again felt uncomfortably restrictive.

“It’s not about the fucking game okay!?” his voice came out hoarse and far more petulant than he’s been aiming for.

Though he quickly felt the embarrassment give rise to a secondary heat as you both breathed each other’s air and searched the face across from you.

“Then what is it about?”

That strange, unexplainable, inexplicable rush of potential filled the small gap that remained between your bodies—the kind of tension Spinner was beginning to think he’d never feel again.

He’d kissed plenty of people. Almost more than he’d like to admit, or that they’d like to admit more accurately.

But when his flickering eyes found your hard stare still and unwavering from his, it felt incredibly natural to lean in and press his lips against your fading frown.

It was slow going, the few centimeters that separated you seemed like miles as he moved slowly, never breaking eye contact until his mouth was finally slotted over yours and you weren’t pushing him away.

There was still a bit of lingering confusion, as this was decidedly not what either of you appeared to be expecting from the prior conversation. That coupled with the fact that Spinner wasn’t entirely sure he remembered your first name made the feeling of your tongue prodding at the seam of his lips all the more startling.

When he gasped, you slid your hands up his chest and licked into his mouth. Tongue tangling between breaths, Spinner felt himself getting lost in the familiar and coveted taste of another mouth, another body, another hand that grasped, that desired, that wanted him.

***

Your knees dug into the cushions on either side of Spinner’s thighs as you bounced in his lap. He fought to keep his eyes open against the pleasure of his cock sinking into you over and over again, so he could watch the way your head was thrown back and your chest heaved with the exertion.

He dug his hands into your hips and let his head hit the back of the couch, feet planted on the floor to help his hips thrust up into you, earning him some of the prettiest, stifled moans he’d ever heard.

Truthfully, he had not expected to fuck you. He figured you might be down to just make out for a bit until the cleaning staff came and booted you from the building, but both your pants had quite quickly and naturally found their way to the floor.

Neither of you spoke much, which he was thankful for. That would have been far too complicated of a conversation, especially considering you really didn’t know each other all that well.

Spinner usually liked to do a bit of ‘getting to know you’ type activities before he hooked up with people, which he did with surprising frequency for somebody so starved for a long term thing. Sex just fucking felt good and it was this eagerness that was his downfall. Most people he’d fucked around with seemed to read the urge to get into their pants as a diminished interest or emotional attraction and Spinner ended up with more friends with benefits than actual friends...or benefits.

Regardless, it was fine by him that the only form of communication passing between you for now were scattered groans of pleasure and the wet slap of your ass against his thighs.

He’d nearly forgotten how fucking amazing pussy felt.

For no particular reason, Spinner had always found himself fooling around with bodies more similar to his own. Not that he had any real preference, though the lack of experience often made him a bit nervous in the whole ‘pleasing your partner’ department, despite many helpful lessons from his roommate.

That was all to say that Spinner was incredibly thankful you reached down to guide his hand that had clumsily begun rubbing circles on your clit. That is until you simply knocked it away and went back to riding his dick like a fucking champ.

Then he did speak.

“Wanna make you cum,” he mumbled and really did sound like he was pouting this time.

You peered down at him, slowing your pace so you sat flush in his lap, grinding his cock deep against your walls. Spinner keened as you clenched around him, pussy so deliciously warm he felt himself near to drowning in the feel of you.

“Mm fuck,” you panted, leaning in to steal a few more messy kisses from him before lifting up and enveloping him in the slick heat all over again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” he nipped at the column or your throat, careful not to leave any lasting marks just in case. “If I’m finishing, you’re fucking finishing.”

You pulled back and stared at him for a moment. He felt you purposefully tightening around him just so he would squirm under your curious gaze. After a moment you smirked and rolled your eyes again, taking his hand and guiding his fingers back to that little nub just above where his thick length was seated inside you.

Spinner was proud of his dick, it was hefty but not so long that it was a hassle to fit—just enough to reach all the important bits. He was sensitive as hell too most of the time, so just about any pressure felt amazing. But the best part of it was watching whoever he was fucking fall apart on his goddamn perfect cock.

So when you whispered, “Like this,” and showed him the rhythm and motion you liked, he pulled himself back from the brink to pay attention, speeding up until that look of cooled control slid right off your face.

“Ahh, yes fuck...” the words tumbled from you freely now. “Shit, yeah just like that—”

Spinner could get fucking drunk off the low groan that left you as he planted his feet more firmly and bucked his hips up. He must have hit something good by the way you choked and moaned boarding on too loud, though he had neither the heart nor self control to stop you.

“Feel good?” he grunted, picking up the pace and force he thrust into you, so that you had to loop your arms around his neck and hold tightly as he speared you on his cock.

“Fuck...yes..” you whimpered into his shoulder which did wonders for his ego.

Spinner kept up his rubbing frantic patterns on your clit and feeling the gradual constriction of your walls around him—the coil growing tight and ready to snap. He nudged your cheek with his until you pulled back a bit to face him.

“I want to see you,” he murmured, sucking your tongue into his mouth for a moment and tearing himself away so he could watch as you came undone around him.

You gave him a strange, soft look and pressed your forehead to his, eyes zoned in on only him.

The rest of the room, the whole fucking basement and campus melted away under that stare.

Your nipples peaked through your shirt, brushing against his as you were jostled into him by the movement of your hips. As you reached your peak, words devolved into increasingly breathy gasps. It took Spinner an incredible amount of concentration not to fucking paint your insides then and there.

Your pussy was so goddamn tight and warm and milking him just right, it was a fucking impressive feat to remain staunchly at the edge of his peak as your mouth fell open and your fingernails scratched at his back when you finally came—the telltale spasms around his cock and the near sobs coming from you more than enough indication.

He lost himself well and truly then.

Lost in the false sense of intimacy that came with being allowed to see you fall apart, this person he barely knew yet made him feel immensely important in that moment. Your breath and spit was in his mouth, the smell and feel of you soaking his length pushed him beyond the realm of conscious thought.

There was only a deep and burning need to be closer to you. So, so much closer.

His hands moved of their own accord, hooking under your thighs and flipping your bodies so your back hit the cushions and he hovered above you. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, pulling out and thrusting his hips in fast, hard strokes that hurtled him towards release.

Spinner couldn’t keep himself quite now either, panting and moaning and gasping unashamedly with his eyes screwed shut as you took his cock so unbelievably well.

It wasn’t until your hands, softer than he’d imagined, cupped his jaw and pulled him down to meet you that he was brought back down from whatever higher plane of existence his impending orgasm whisked him too.

Your lips weren’t nearly as frantic as the rocking of his thighs, the slap of his balls against your ass. The sweetness was an odd but welcome contrast.

“I’m gonna—fucking mm...” he tried so hard to get his tongue to form the words but he could feel himself slipping further as you started clamping around his length again.

“I know,” you breathed against his lips, faces pressed together and unmoving eyes steady on his own. “Ahh, inside if you want.”

He did want.

Oh fuck did he want nothing more in that moment to stay sunk in your warmth and pump you so full, but the last few remaining logical braincells reminded him that was not a great idea. Not without a more in-depth conversation neither of you was in a state to have.

“Shouldn’t...” he groaned and moved to pull out but your ankles locked around his ass and forced him back down.

“It’s okay,” you huffed and rocked into him, squeezing around the sensitive head of his dick just once, just right and that did him in.

It was something in the way you looked at him, so that he could feel nothing but secure—nothing but safe wrapped up in you. Something about the way you pressed him closer, in the movement of your thumb on his cheek.

It scratched some deep seated, lonely itch in Spinner.

Made it feel like this meant a hell of a lot more than it probably did.

In seconds he was blowing his fucking load right into you, milking himself in your heat until he was spent and overstimulated. You were kind enough to pull him to you, turning your bodies so you laid side by side on the coach, his softening cock slipping from you in a gush of release.

For a minute or so, neither of you spoke, just stared, long and comfortable at the stranger you’d just fucked on the gaming club couch.

Well.

Fucked wasn’t really the word he’d use at that point to describe what you’d just done, but anything more than that felt presumptuous.

You broke the silence as he nuzzled into your palm.

“You really needed that didn’t you?”

Spinner couldn’t help the familiar, infectious laugh that rattled in his chest. He liked the smile it earned him, far more genuine than any others you’d worn that night.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You hummed, nodding in response. “Mm, me too.”

And somehow, for no real logical reason, Spinner knew you understood. That you felt the same isolation, the same starvation for love, for holding weight in someone else’s world.

That the games were just a placeholder, a way to fill the space, to get lost in other lives, in other stories where he did matter. Where his actions had foreseeable and measurable worth. That’s why it hurt to lose. Not for the glory, but for the destruction of the only remaining diversion from how empty his reality felt.

Even if it wasn’t really.

Even if there were friends and benefits and friends who offered both. His roommate could let him rest his head in their lap on movie nights or sleep in his bed on occasion when the heat went out and he got cold too quickly. But none of that quite filled the hole like you now, holding his face and knowing the struggle without him having to explain it.

Nothing like you pulling him in and kissing him too familiarly for someone he’d only known a day.

Magne used to say something about shit like this. Something like how people bond in train cars when there’s a rat eating a slice of pizza and you all watch it happen. Some weird camaraderie forged in the shared experience of life being a little fucking freaky a lot of the time.

That was how it felt when you slipped your leg between his and brushed your lips together again. Content to lay, half naked in the media building basement, making out with some guy you beat at Smash and fucked right after.

Reveling in the brief but meaningful feeling of mattering in some small, strange way to someone else.

Of holding weight.

Of being held.

[the-bau-quinjet]

the evolution of breaking up

Peter x Stark!reader

Summary: Snippets of you moving on from a bad breakup, frequently turning to your best friend, Peter.

Warnings: it's sad Taylor Swift hours, some choice words,

Word Count: 3252

a/n: inspired by a playlist called the evolution of breaking up that only has TS songs on it lol. Bold is direct or paraphrased lyrics

Masterlist

Peter is 90% sure he fell in love with you the day he met you.

He's 100% sure he fell in love with you within a week of knowing you.

Hell, he's so sure about it, he would tell you if not for one glaringly obvious problem: Jared.

Your boyfriend.

Your started dating Jared a few weeks before you met Peter. That is to say, a few weeks before Tony recruited Peter to join the Avengers.

Peter didn't have any problems with Jared, and he would never wish for you to get your heart broken, but he was definitely jealous.

It wasn't hard for him to love you. The two of you became fast friends. You always worked in the lab together, improving upon tech Tony already had or developing all new creations.

You also patrolled together. Peter had always enjoyed patrolling, but now that you went with him, time seemed to fly.

It was currently about 10:30 on a Friday about two and a half years after you and Peter met. You and Peter were supposed to patrol, but Tony said to take the night off for once.

You took the impromptu free time as the perfect opportunity to surprise Jared.

You left the tower around 5:30 and Peter hasn't heard from you since. Not that he expected to since you were going on a date. He was bored though.

Tony refused to let him tinker around in the lab, saying he needed a better work/life balance. He would've found the statement funny if it didn't feel so true.

He tried calling Ned, but he was out with Betty. MJ was busy with Brad, the two going to some horror movie marathon.

The only other person he really hung out with was you, and you were also on a date.

He wondered the various floors of the tower, looking for anything to do that would take his mind of you.

Eventually, he just set up camp in the shared living area, putting Star Wars on the massive TV and eating more popcorn than should be legal.

He was nearly asleep during Episode V when the ding of the elevator jolted him awake. Someone ran through the halls, quickly opening and closing the door to their room.

He sat up, intrigued by the behavior. As he walked down the hallway, he listened for any indication of someone else being there. Obviously whoever it was didn't want to talk, but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned.

He stopped outside your door, bringing his hand up to knock when he heard music softly playing through the door.

You told me you loved me, so why did you go away?

He froze with his fist raised, uneasy with the why you would put on such a sad song. His hand fell back to his side when he heard you sing along to the chorus.

"Never thought we'd have a last kiss. Never imagined we'd end like this."

The sound of you crying grew louder than the music, urging Peter to knock. He just wanted to make sure you knew he was there for you.

Hyping himself up, he knocked lightly. A few seconds later the music stopped. He listened as you shuffled toward the door, slowly pulling it open.

His heart broke at the sight of your puffy cheeks, red and tear stained.

"Hey Pete." You managed a small smile, happy to see your friend despite the less than stellar evening you had.

"Hey, I... you probably don't want to talk about it right now, but I'm here for when you do." He matched your small smile, trying not to make you feel any worse.

Apparently, he said the right thing because you pulled him into a bone crushing hug, burying your head in his chest as you cried.

He spent the next half hour rubbing your back as you cried, having moved to sit on the bed rather than stand in the doorway.

When your tears ended, he risked talking to you again.

"Did you want to talk about it tonight?" Peter was clearly unsure of himself in this situation.

You shook your head, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweatshirt.

"No, I... He just..." Tears pooled again, but you blinked them away. "He said forever and always, but I guess he didn't mean it."

Peter held you as you cried again, eventually falling asleep. He tucked you into your bed, placing a water bottle on your nightstand and shutting off the lights as he left.

-

The next few days, you spent mostly holed up in your room. You had a playlist of sad Taylor Swift songs on repeat, letting yourself wallow.

Peter was worried. Tony was worried. Nat, Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Pepper, and Vision were worried.

"What'd she say when you talked to her?" The group questioned, all wanting nothing more than to cheer you up.

Peter sighed, wishing he had more information. "She just cried for like, 2 hours. Somewhere in the middle I asked if she wanted to talk, she said something about him not really meaning forever, and then she cried again."

They were all contemplating what to do when you walked in the room. Every pair of eyes were on you in an instant.

You sighed heavily, kind of glad you could address everyone at once. They've been like a family to you since you were born, so it only makes sense they would all be worried.

"Jared and I broke up." You felt like it was 2 and a half years wasted. You could feel the tightness in your throat threatening more tears, but you refused to cry over this boy any longer. "I'll be okay, I just... I remember it all too well right now."

You turned to your dad, eyes welling up again. "I'm sorry I ignored when you said to run as fast as I can from all the boys I ever met." You chuckled, trying to relieve the tension.

Tony pulled you into a tight hug. "You'll be okay again, princess." You nodded, leaning into the hug. Everyone ended up piling on, offering you words of comfort through the group hug.

-

A couple weeks later, and you honestly felt better. Not all the way, but enough to want to go out with friends again. You went roller skating with Peter, MJ, and Ned.

It was the next logical step, going out with friends. It made sense. It was working.

Until you saw him. Jared was there with some other girl, skating without a care in the world. Of course, he saw you. He had the audacity to smile and wave, as if he didn't just break your heart.

When he walked up to you, you knew you had enough.

"Don't you smile at me and ask me how I've been. Don't you say you've missed me if you don't want me again." You spit the words at him, trying to hide how much it hurt. You turned away from him, nearly running from the rink before you even put the skates on.

You friends followed you out, profusely denying the need for your abundant apologies.

Ned and MJ hugged you before leaving, figuring less people would be better for you. Peter took you back to the tower, trying to help soothe the lingering ache.

"I just don't understand." You whispered from the passenger side of the car. "Why would he want to break a perfectly good heart?"

Peter struggled to come up with an answer, knowing nothing he said would really fix it.

"You'll find someone else. Someone who won't break your heart." He settled on a vague nod toward the future, knowing anything else could lead to him potentially ruining your friendship.

Unbeknownst to Peter, his words broke your heart just a little more. You always had a soft spot for Peter, and the few weeks you've been broken up from Jared have made you see him in a new light.

Of course, you wouldn't make a move though. Not yet. You didn't want him to think he was just a rebound. He's your best friend. It's too important to mess up with feelings.

-

You woke up the next morning with a slew of messages from Jared.

This is me swallowing my pride... telling you I'm sorry for that night.

I go back to December all the time.

It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you.

I'm wishing I realized what I had when you were mine.

You deleted them immediately, not wanting to fall back into his trap. Ultimately though, you decided to respond. You wanted to lay it all out that he missed his chance. You were over him, even if it still hurt.

I've lived, and I've learned. Had you, got burned. I'm over it, Jared. Leave me alone.

Then you deleted his contact and blocked the number. He couldn't just say those hurtful things to you and then pretend like it was a mistake. He meant every word he said that night, even if he doesn't believe it now.

-

Another week went by without incident. You were all smiles all the time, really moving on from him and the pain he put you through.

Then you got a letter. It looked like a card, so you figured it was an early Valentine's card.

Opening it up proved it to be just that.

The inside read:

"I don't wanna miss you like this. I don't wanna need you this way. Come back. Be here."

Signed from Jared with hearts.

Of course you chose to open the card as soon as you got it, with everyone watching.

Your expression fell as the words sank in, knowing he was still trying did weird things to your heart. It made you question everything. Did he really care about you? Was he just bored?

You stared at the card for what felt like an eternity before ripping it up and rolling your eyes.

Of course he doesn't care. Nobody who says to your face that they never loved you cares.

"What was that?" Wanda asked, curious about the mixture of emotions present on your face.

"A load of utter horse shit." You huffed a laugh as you threw away the pieces.

"Language!" Tony called, always taking the opportunity to tease Steve.

"Well it was!" You defended, eager to move on from the conversation. They all stared at you expectantly, clearly waiting for an explanation. "It was from Jared." You were glad Peter was sitting next to you. Just the mention of his name had him rubbing your back, trying to make it easier for you.

"You know, now that I'm sitting here thinking it through. I've never been anywhere cold as him."

You felt another group hug coming on, so you quickly excused yourself to shower, reassuring everyone that you were fine.

-

You were laying on the floor, feet up against the wall, just staring at the ceiling when Bucky and Peter walked into the gym to train with you.

"Hey, Y/N." Bucky called, a questioning look in his eyes.

"What's going on in your head?" Peter added, spelling out the question for you.

"I knew he was trouble when I met him." You answered him honestly. "And yet, I still said yes when he asked me out." You shook your head, still staring at the ceiling.

"Hey, hindsight is 20/20. Don't beat yourself up about it." Bucky chimed in, knowing how it feels to blame yourself for things that weren't your fault.

"Are you offering then?" You stood up, accepting Peter's hand to aid you. You brushed any lingering dirt from your clothes, laughing at Bucky's confused expression. "For me to beat you up instead?"

The three of you had a good laugh before you got to work training.

-

Three months post breakup and you're feeling great. At least, you're feeling great most of the time.

"Hey Y/N! What are you doing tonight?" Peter questioned as he walked up beside you in the lab, pulling out the tools he'll need.

"I don't know, nothing specific I guess." You try to remember any plans you had, but nothing comes to mind.

"Perfect. MJ, Ned, and I are going to go roller skating again. I thought maybe you'd wanna come?" He's clearly nervous, unsure if this would help or hinder your progress.

You nod your head, thinking it over. "You know what, I'm in." The determination in your voice catches Peter off guard.

"Cool, um, great. I guess you're doing better then?" He's still nervous, but eager to finally get you to fully open up to someone about everything.

"Yep. Anytime I get sad, I think of something shitty he did to remind me I'm better off." You smile, knowing he was going to ask for examples.

"Really? Like what?" You can't help but laugh lightly, enjoying how well you know Peter.

"Some vague things, like how he would look at me when he was annoyed. Like those eyes add insult to injury, you know?" He nods, but doesn't really understand.

"Or more specific examples, like that birthday party where you all kept asking me about him, and I made excuses, but truth is he just blew me off. That one honestly should've been the moment I knew."

"He did what?" Peter was livid, but trying to contain the rage to that of a concerned friend rather than jealous crush.

"Eh, I'm over it. It's pretty easy to focus on the bad aspects of the relationship when it ended so badly." You shrug, turning back to the circuit board you were working on.

"How, um, how exactly did it end?" He wondered aloud, knowing you hadn't fully told anyone yet. He watched as you tensed slightly before shaking it off.

"That's a story for another time Pete." You managed a tight smile, not wanting to delve into that conversation just yet.

-

"You have got to be fucking kidding me." You mumbled under your breath.

You had been skating with Peter, Ned, and MJ for about an hour when he walked in.

Peter followed your line of sight, trying to understand your mumbling. When his eyes caught sight of Jared, he panicked.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry! I really thought this would help you this time." He rubbed his hands down his face, silently cursing himself for putting you in this position again.

"Don't worry about it Pete. I'm more prepared to handle it this time around." You laughed, watching out of the corner of your eye as Jared approached you.

"Y/N... I, uh, I've been trying to talk to you." He started boldy, not really caring that you weren't even looking at him.

You did your best to ignore him, but he grabbed your arm to stop you from skating away.

"Y/N, come on-"

"No." You spit at him, not letting him get under your skin. "People like you always want back the love they pushed aside, but people like me are gone forever when you say goodbye."

You yanked your arm out of his hand, turning back to your friends. "Let's keep skating. I have no reason to run away."

Peter watched, bewildered as you confidently skated across the rink.

-

The morning of what would be your three year anniversary with Jared felt weird. You weren't upset anymore, but the lingering nostalgia of celebrating an anniversary clung to you.

You deleted the email reminding you of the plans you were supposed to have that evening.

You sighed heavily as you walked into the kitchen, still trying to clear your head.

"You good?" Peter questioned, easily spotting that something was off.

"Yeah, it's just... I don't miss him. At all. I'm over it, but today would've been our anniversary..."

Peter nodded, trying to understand what you were feeling.

"It's strange to think the songs we used to sing, the smiles, the flowers, everything... is gone." You told him the truth, trying not to hide your feelings.

Maybe you should be over it by now, but you spent the majority of your high school career with that guy. It sucks to think it was all a waste.

He pulled you into a hug, rubbing your back to comfort you.

"I mean, not to state the obvious, but I didn't get my perfect fantasy with Jared." You huffed, rolling your eyes.

"You'll find your perfect someone." He smiled, unaware of the fluttering in your stomach telling you that maybe you already had.

"Yeah, someone who won't say to my face that he never really loved me." You muttered, feeling the rage burn inside you again.

"He's an ass." You hugged him tighter, enjoyed the feeling of being in his arms.

-

Peter slowed as he walked past your door, listening as the songs changed. He recognized the intro as a song from folklore, but he wasn't sure exactly which one.

"I'm doing good. I'm on some new shit." You sang loudly unaware of listening ears outside the door.

Peter smiled, walking away so as not to interrupt your healing process again.

Meanwhile, you floated around your room, nearly screaming the along to the breakup songs as you finally rid yourself of any lingering items relating to Jared.

"But it's wonderful to see that it never phased you!" You grinned as you threw it all away, ready to fully move on.

-

When the elevator doors opened, Peter was assaulted with the blaring sounds of none other than Taylor Swift.

Apparently, you moved your dance party from your room to the living room, thinking you had the space to yourself for a little while.

He watched as you danced around the room, singing and smiling to your heart's content.

"So he calls me up, and he's like 'I still love you' and I'm like, "I'm just, this is exhausting you know, like..." You caught Peter's smile out of the corner of your eye, fully turning to look at him as you belted out the next line. "We are never getting back together. Like ever. Noooo."

You grab his hands, forcing him to dance and twirl around with you as the song comes to an end.

"I take it your really feeling better." Peter smiles, overjoyed to see you looking so exuberant.

"I am." You nod, keeping it simple.

"No more thoughts about Jared?" He questioned, smiling when you didn't even flinch at his name.

"Nope. I forgot that he existed." You smiled cheekily, still dancing although you turned the music down.

"That's good, then." Peter smiled, suddenly nervous. If you truly had moved on, maybe now was his chance.

"Hey Pete?" You questioned, smiling shyly.

"Yeah?" He stood in front of you, unsure of where this was going.

"I realized something this morning." You whispered, nervous for his response, but dying to tell him the truth.

"Yeah?" He waited, eager to know what you were hiding.

You pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back, watching as he slowly grinned.

"Why'd you do that?" He asked, stunned but grinning like an idiot.

"'Cause, I like you," you smiled, but quickly added 'but I know that it's delicate."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that." He stated, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"No?" You leaned into his touch, feeling like you were on cloud nine.

"Nope. Cause I like you too."

He pulled you in for a deeper kiss, celebrating the beginning of this new stage of your relationship.

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