#ever to take a moment for granted but this hurts more than I can explain. this has been the worst year of my life. I’m absolutely shattered.

[clawsextended]

today was my first christmas without my aunt. today was my first christmas i’ve ever woken up alone. why does grief have to feel so hollow and so heavy at once.

[spdrvyn]

a Miguel x f!reader "who did this to you?" Angst fic?

bewitched by bandages — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: as per usual, you were spending your late-nights fighting crime and trying to protect the city to the best of your ability. as you are in the midst of a strenuous battle, you're sucked into a portal which brings you to what you assume to be another dimension.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: violence. harassment. somewhat detailed descriptions of wounds. angst. hurt/comfort. translated spanish (i didn't use google translate). f!reader

NOTES: GOD I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCH HOLY SHIT thank you anon for sending me this ask i was gonna do this kind of thing w miguel eventually but like still mwah, sorry for being ia too btw... i'm trying to avoid getting burnt out n shit so that i keep writing stuff for you guys 🫶 anyway, ENJOOOY

"You will never be apart of this."

Those were the last words uttered to you before proclaimed protector of the multiverse, Miguel O'Hara, disappeared into the portal possibly never to be seen again.

He thought so too. At least, until he came back a week later due to yet another anomaly showing up in your dimension. Then another, then another, then another.

Humiliating was an understatement. What kind of Spider-Woman were you if you couldn't even take down one anomaly? Every time trouble came, Miguel was there to fix it. For once, you wanted to be the one to catch the beast. Hold it's severed head up to him with a big, fat smile on your face.

But that was a distant dream, only to be seen after you collapse onto your bed after an exhausting day.

You felt even more hurt when you found out that he was the leader of some kind of Spider Society. Yet, as he said when he first met you, you just weren't capable enough to join it.

Granted, he explained that it was an elite strike force but still. You were proud of yourself for making it this far into the whole Spider-woman gig, turns out that the bar was higher than you thought it was. It saddened you, deeply.

Though with time comes change. You've honed your skills and now confident enough to laugh in the face of who you were months ago, if an anomaly ever showed up again you'd show Miguel who's boss (not literally) and finally be able to join that god forsaken society.

You were much more confident in battle, actually much more confident in general. It was like you were an entirely different person to the criminals that you cowered before at night and the other more important people in your life at day.

However, there were moments where that confidence faltered.

Moments where you felt like that terrified, shameful, and naive little spider that you were mere months ago. A moment like now as you were being absolutely destroyed by one of your regular enemies.

You didn't know his name, you didn't want to bother trying to know anyway. He was the type of villain to give those excruciatingly long monologues that only dragged more and more time out of your excruciatingly long nights. So you just called him tech guy.

He is exactly what he sounds like. Covered from almost head-to-toe with different kinds of technologically advanced weaponry that made you wonder if he'd work as an appliance in a smart home.

Even when you enjoyed poking fun at the multiple devices stuck to his body, he didn't. Continuing to upgrade himself more and more each time the both of you fought. You had a feeling in your gut that your devilishly charming personality would come back to bite you in the ass someday.

He had you under the heel of his boot, quite literally this time. You bite back a grunt as his shoe continues to press into you, barely being able to look back up, you can see the absolutely smug grin on his face.

"I warned you, Spider-Woman. If only you listened to me, you would've seen this coming from miles away!"

"I'm here to—" You want to bury your face into the pavement as you can feel something sharp pierce the small of your back. "Fight bad guys not listen to lectures!"

"And look at where not listening has gotten you, little spider." Tech guy chuckled, uncomfortably close to your ear. You try to pull away but he has you pinned and he's close, too close. You swore from the corner of your eye that he had his hand raised. About to strike.

This was it, he was going to knock you out. Take you back to who knows where. Or maybe even kill you right here and right now. Leaving your corpse on the street for the citizens of New York, the citizens that you swore you'd protect to be mortified by.

You were finished, your end had come. It terrified you, if people saw your fate, who would do this job? Who would be able to gain the courage to step up? Even after knowing the dangers that lurk and entail it?

Dangers such as a portal opening up on the floor beneath you, it was blinding as you squint and your senses are immediately flooded by what feels like everything.

It's like a strong gust of wind swoops you away, the distant yells of tech guy growing quieter and quieter.

This relieved you but pained you.

As you were being blissfully carried away from whatever force was helping you right now, it put a lot of pressure on the injuries that have sustained from that scuffle.

You tried to scream, yell, shout for anyone in this space but nothing. You curl up into a ball, in attempts for it stop and hope that your next destination is the sensation of nothingness.

It was like you were being torn apart then put back together. Shifting from each form. Solid, liquid, gas, solid, liquid, gas, solid liquid, gas, solid rooftop.

What?

You groaned, looking up at the night sky of whatever hell you just landed in. You tried to sit up and you were able to! But with a now bleeding lip in attempts to muffle the absolutely bloodcurdling scream that you were about to let out.

Wherever you were, it wasn't hell (thankfully) but it definitely wasn't New York. At least not your New York.

Everything was strangely futuristic. Flying cars, sleek architecture, a lot of grass to your surprise, and beautiful lights that finished the beautiful view off.

The rooftop that you had landed on was no different either, whoever owned this place had a spectacular taste in furniture and it showed here. As you looked to your side, it seemed that it also connected to a bedroom. An empty bedroom.

God, you were going to feel so guilty about this later.

Fighting back yet another pained noise from coming out of your mouth, you manage to build the strength to get up on your two feet and stumble towards the entrance.

You take your slow strides and get to observe the room in the process, it was very spacious. A huge monitor hanging on one wall, a huge closet on the other side, not to mention that it has a bathroom attached, what would it be without a huge bed in the middle of it all?

To your dismay, you're only able to make it a few steps in before needing to grip the bedsheets for dear life.

The dear life that you might lose when you hear the muted sounds of someone talking from outside.

You're not really able to make any words out but it sounded like whoever they were, they yelled out to someone. Suddenly, she appeared in front of you.

A lady, dressed in a somewhat lengthy but quite fashionable fur coat, she adorned a pair of heart shaped sunglasses as she looked at the TV in the room with a puzzled look on her face.

It's not long before she catches sight of you, eyes widening and both of you exchange glances. You bring your index finger to your mouth in a placating gesture but it only gets worse as she calls out:

"... Miguuueeeeel!"

Miguel? Miguel?

Frantically, you wave your hands around in an attempts to shush her but your heart rate spikes as her body practically phases through you. Hologram. You were throwing hands with a hologram.

And it's like the whole world stops when the bedroom door slides open, your worst fears had come true.

There he stood. Miguel O'Hara. Although something felt different, and you realized that his mask was off. The first thing that came to mind was the unamused pout that he wore, eyes that stared down at you disappointedly, and a broad frame that took up nearly the entire doorway.

The silence was deafening, you could hear it ringing in your ears. So deafening that you could hear your heart drumming in your chest, your shallow breaths, his footfalls as he walked over to you. Before turning his head to his hologram lady.

"Lyla, scan this." Lyla nodded before looking you up and down, wherever her eyes followed it scanned. She turns back to Miguel with the prognosis on your injuries. "Fifteen scratches, ten bruises, and a slightly fractured rib."

The noise that Miguel let out irked you a little, you could feel how heavy it was as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I have a lot of articles that could help with fixing this mess, big guy."

"No, it's fine. I can deal with this myself,"

"If you say so."

Lyla seemingly poofs into thin air, leaving you alone with him and a whole lot of questions that you have to ask. Even then, even if you were the one technically intruding in his home, you couldn't break the silence. Where to even start?

"Who did this to you?" Well, okay. That was a start. You tried to open your mouth to even get a small explanation out but as you attempted to piece your thoughts together, the more it felt like your brain fogged up.

Miguel had unfortunately noticed this too, what a way to make an impression after weeks of not seeing each other. "Just sit down." You obviously complied, careful not to let any blood drip down onto his sheets, you hoped that you wouldn't embarrass yourself further.

Those months of training, those months of self-improvement, those months of trying to be better all shattered within an instant as you saw Miguel rummage through his closet, cursing under his breath until he emerged with a first aid kit.

It felt so hard to think about anything and everything. Well, not really. There were a million thoughts racing through your head right now, most of them being what exactly was going through Miguel's head.

Was he disappointed? It would be a lot more unlikely if he wasn't if you were completely honest. Was he upset? If you saw someone you didn't hold in a high regard just magically appear on the roof of your home all beat up, you wouldn't be the happiest in the world.

There wasn't even a single peep out of him as he opened the small kit, equipping himself with what looked to be a medical cream and rolls of bandages. You spared him just a small glance, you were expecting him to look you dead in the eye with nothing but pure unbridled rage for ruining his night but instead?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He was laser focused on treating you right now or what you had thought to be a more plausible situation: he was just too disheartened to even look at you.

And you completely understood why, therefore ripping your gaze away from his eyes and moving down to his hands instead. You watched intently as the part around his hands dissolved into mere pixels before he swiped up a good amount of the cream onto his fingers, then gestured for you to hold your arm out.

Once the medicine came into contact with your wounds, tears dared to prick at your eyes. Fuck, it hurt a lot but you didn't really need to ruin his impression of you any further. You resorted to biting down hard on your lip and turning your head away.

Miguel, being the ever observant one, noticed this as well.

"You owe me an explanation." He was right. You did. You were quite confident that if you stayed radio silent for the rest of the night, you would be sleeping on the cold, cold streets of this world. "I've surmised that you got sucked into a portal then ended up here but most don't end up with injuries this bad."

There goes a good chunk of your explanation, which played well on your end. You didn't even want to begin describing what being transported from dimension to dimension felt like. Still, you wanted to play this cool.

"I was just in a fight, it was nothing serious."

"Nothing serious? Did you hear the results of that scan?"

You can't help how your cheeks flush at his quip, perhaps you were playing it too cool. If you tried too hard, he'd probably be able to see right through you but before you could even attempt defending yourself, he butts in.

"Qué dolor de cabeza." You heard him mutter. "I need more details about this, how many people were in the fight? What were they like? I'm not a mind reader."

His tone was harsh, it felt like he was cutting your scars open rather than healing them. You semi-understood why he was a leader, he had a way of making demands that was for sure.

"It was just one guy, but he had a lot of mechanical attachments. Saws, tentacles, other blades." As you explained, Miguel finished up bandaging your arm and gestured for your other one. You shifted slightly in position and held that up as well, sucking in a sharp breath as he goes through the routine of applying the disinfectant.

He seemed to just hum at your answer like he wasn't relentlessly asking you questions moments ago, you assumed that he wanted to hear more information so you kept talking. Like an idiot.

"I'm not the biggest tech person, you know? I was just swinging through and then he ambushed me, every time I've encountered him, he just continued to get stronger and stronger."

"Every time? How many times exactly?"

He emphasized 'exactly' as if you were actually supposed to count but even if you presented those kinds of details with a whole ass statistic chart, the answer would still disappoint him.

"Probably more than five. Like I said, he upgrades and–"

"Yes, yes. You said that already." He interrupts you again, hurriedly finishing up your arm before he rolls up the bandages; throwing them back into the aid kit with a very audible thud.

If there was another talent of his, it would be how very quickly he's able to shatter your pride.

"What are you trying to do here?" He asks you. You know you shouldn't be asking questions at risk of making yourself look even more stupid but with how vague that was, it felt like you had the right to. "What are you talking about?"

"You're trying to impress me. I'm asking you this stuff to know more about the nature of your injuries and you're trying to goddamn impress me. Why?"

Oh.

Clearly, since it felt like he knew so much more about you, you just looked at him. How could this possibly get any worse after all? No matter what you said, no matter how hard you tried, it would all be for naught in the end.

"If this is about what I said when we first met, these antics of yours seriously aren't helping your case." Your body went numb. "Then, after I clear all the anomalies in your dimension, you come flying back to me. Seriously?"

Your mind went numb.

This felt like more than just a reality check to you, no. Every single criticism that shot back at you continued to break you down into smaller, smaller pieces.

You dreamt about meeting him again someday, and it did not look like this in the slightest. Only now, if you thought about what that scenario would be like, you'd conk yourself in the head for being so fucking delusional.

The distant dream of him entering your dimension, to see an anomaly in your capable hands, to hear that gravelly voice that has only continued to criticize you praise you for your deeds, then you'd get recruited into the Spider Society and save the multiverse to your heart's content.

Oh, how dumb and naïve you were. Clearly, you still are both of those things. His words spoke enough about that. You didn't want to be here as much as he did.

"I didn't want this," You finally said, the most coherent thought throughout this whole mess. "Any of this to happen. I just– I don't get it at all."

"Don't get what?"

"What I'm doing wrong," You sigh, lip quivering as tears dared to fall. This time, it wasn't because of medicine. You hoped it was. "I've trained for so long, I've tried my hardest. You might not think so but I have, I really have. But it seems like I'm making a mess of it all."

With each second that passed, the dam dared to break.

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room, but this one scared you even more. A while ago, even if he didn't say a word, you knew how he felt about you. About your predicament.

But now? You had no clue. He could embrace you, comfort you, tell you that it's okay and he understood how you felt. You could've pushed his temper to his limits, he would scream, shout, yell, and kick you out of his penthouse.

"This doesn't have anything to do with your training," Like that, Miguel took a sharp pin to the atmosphere and popped it. "It has something to do with your mindset."

Now, you were the one to give him a confused glare. He sighs, eyes scanning over your sorry state once more,

"You did this, all this, to get into my strike force and to woo me whatnot." Before looking back up at you. Don't be mistaken, the harshness in his face is still there but from what he was saying, it didn't seem to be what you had originally thought.

"The reason why you're so stuck is because I shouldn't be the first goal in your mind, you should. Are you following?" You nod.

"Good. You need to understand, this job isn't about trying to meet a standard or getting someone to notice you. Self-improvement. It's all in the title. Self-improvement."

You shiver as his warm hand rests on your shoulder. "If you're already this hung up on trying to win me over, take a step back and think about who's approval matters more. Yours or mine?"

Yours.

It clicked. Everything fit into place and the dam broke, though that should have been more obvious to you when Miguel's face had started to look a little foggier.

At first, you had expected him to hand you a tissue or something but he didn't move from his place. Instead, resorting to rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in a weird, seemingly unfitting gesture.

You swiftly wiped your tears away with your palm, stifling a sniffle as you ask yet another question.

"So, do you think I'll have a chance of getting in someday?"

A snarkly reply or scoff was what you had anticipated but what he just did was probably the most shocking turn of events looking back at the whole night.

He chuckled.

"I'll keep you in touch."

request rules here, masterlist here

[rollinouttahere-writes]

So. It's kinda random but what if Platonic Yandere! Strawhats with Y/n who is an artist? And maybe one day they saw how Y/n drew one of them but doesn't want to show any?

Let me see!

Yandere Straw Hats x GN!Reader

1.4k words

It was rare to get any time to yourself around here. Ever since you got mixed in with the Strawhat Crew, you felt like you always had someone attached to your hip or hovering over your shoulder. This made indulging in your personal hobbies difficult. Granted, it’s not like any of them would stop you from doing it, but you wanted to keep at least one thing for yourself.

Today was one of those instances where you were actually being left alone. You’re not sure how it happened this time. Maybe they all thought you were already spending time with someone else. Whatever, you’re not about to waste these precious moments pondering it.

Quietly slipping into your room, you pull your sketchbook and utensils out of their hiding spot. You curled up in your bed and flipped through the book until you found a blank page. Twirling the pencil between your fingers, you contemplate what to draw.

Despite your.. Complicated relationship with the crew, you couldn’t help but be inspired by them. Well, artistically speaking at least. They were constantly doing all these incredible feats and looking cool as hell while doing it. That, and it’s not like you saw much else besides them anyways.

After mulling it over, you start sketching, having decided on drawing Luffy today. He was an incredibly fun person to draw, what with his admittedly adorable baby face and his cartoonish anatomy. 

It didn’t take long for you to really get into the zone and be only focused on putting new lines onto the sheet of paper. You’re so focused that you don’t hear the door to your room open, nor the sound of sandals slapping across the floor until it’s too late.

“(Y/N)! Why are you hiding in here, I’ve been looking for you!” Luffy giddily rushed towards your bed and threw himself onto it, and subsequently you.

Frantically, you try to hide the sketch book under the covers, but he already saw it. Perking up, he tries snatching it out of your hand, “C’mon, why are you reading a book when you could be playing with me?!” 

Yes! You might be able to get out of this yet. If he thinks it’s a book, he definitely won’t try to read it and discover what it really is. “I like reading, Luffy. I just want to curl up with a good book once in a while,” as you’re saying this, you narrowly avoid letting it fall into his grabby hands, and slip it underneath yourself to sit on it.

He pouts and rests his face on his hands, still focused on the book, “Is it really that good that you want to read it more than hang out with me?”

You cringe a bit at how pointed the question was. There was no good answer here. Either you say no and he’ll immediately drag you off, or you say yes and run the risk of hurting his feelings. Then you’ll have to deal with a temper tantrum from him, and being admonished by the rest of the crew for being mean. “It’s not about it being better than hanging out with you, I can like doing more things you know.”

Luffy huffs at your indirect answer and begins tugging on the book again, “What’s it’s even about then?”

Oh shit. Um. Hm. Now you need to improvise. “It’s about,” you dart your eyes around looking for any inspiration to help you out. You’re in a plain room on a boat in the middle of the ocean, and of course the plot of literally every book you’ve ever read has completely vacated your brain.

You were apparently taking too long to tell him, so he just ripped it out from under you to investigate himself. “It can’t be that good if it’s that hard to explain. Why would you-” Luffy’s sentence died on his tongue as he opens it, right onto a picture of himself.

Panicking, you launch yourself onto his back in a desperate attempt to confiscate it, but he simply stretches his arms to keep it out of reach.

“This is awesome! Why didn’t you tell me you could draw so good?” Much to your chagrin, he starts flipping through it, now seeing sketches of the other members, too.

“Luffy! Give that back! I didn’t say you could look at that!” Blood rushed to your face from the embarrassment of being caught.

He peers over his shoulder at you, looking bewildered at your statement, “What’s the big deal? Don’t you want to share your talent?”

“No, I don’t! Just give it back and don’t tell anyone about it! Please!” You scrambled off the bed and leapt for the book, but he just snapped his arms back and continued the game of keep away.

You could see the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of your words and actions. His eyes suddenly widened and he grinned as something clicked for him, “Oh I get it! You don’t know how good these are! You just need some help realizing it!” With that, he took off out of your room, sketchbook in hand.

“Get back here!” You sprinted after him, hoping you could get it back before he showed everyone, but deep down you knew it was already too late.

You were at a massive disadvantage here. Luffy was fast, especially when he had something he wasn’t supposed to. By the time you make it onto the deck, you’re horrified to see he’s already acquired an audience. Nami and Robin were seated at the table, with Sanji serving them some tea and snacks (which were currently being inhaled by Luffy while they were distracted by the book).

“You aren’t supposed to see that!” You hope that you’ll be able to get it out of Robin’s hands, but Luffy wraps one of his arms around you, leaving you immobilized at his side. Before you could beg them to please put it down, Luffy shoves a tiny cake into your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Go back a page, I think I saw one of me!” Nami was pestering Robin and trying to get it to herself, but any attempts at grabbing it were thwarted by an arm sprouting from the table and swatting her hands away. 

“In a minute, Nami, I’ll let you see when I’m finished,” Robin was entirely unbothered by her pleas (and yours), choosing to casually flip through each and every page with a small smile on her face.

Sanji was looking over them, smiling at the artwork, and was the first to acknowledge that you were standing right there. “These are incredible, though I’m not surprised that you would be so talented~!”

The sweet and genuine compliment almost made you cave in to accepting the situation, but you dismissed it. Swallowing the cake, you can finally speak again, “Please stop looking at that, I don’t like people looking at my sketchbook!” Especially not when the people in question kidnapped you and are actively holding you hostage.

“Oh? Are you shy about it? How cute,” Robin teased.

“It’s not-” you were once again cut off by another cake being stuffed into your mouth.

“What are you guys all looking at?” Chopper was now approaching with Usopp not far behind. Great. Why not just let everyone see it! 

Robin flipped to a page with Chopper on it and showed it to him, “(Y/N), took the time to draw all of us, it seems.”

Chopper’s eyes sparkled at the drawing, and against all logic he was somehow blushing??? “Oh I don’t look all cutesy like that, you jerk!” His dopey smile easily contradicted his words.

“I didn’t know you were also an artist. You should have told me sooner, I could’ve been teaching you! I’ll have you know I’ve tutored many famous artists! In fact, this reminds me- You drew me too?!” Usopp’s tale is cut short when Robin shows him a sketch of himself. 

You finally stop struggling, instead choosing to flop against Luffy in defeat. What’s the point? Damn near everyone has already seen it, you’re sure Zoro will wander on over here soon enough anyways. 

Upon feeling you give up, Luffy lets go and looks very pleased with himself. He unceremoniously shoves the little remaining food into his mouth and runs off calling for Zoro while Sanji gives chase, scolding him for eating all the food.

You just stood there, not knowing what else you could do. With Luffy gone, everyone else was crowding around you, lavishing you with compliments and asking questions all at once. You couldn’t even bring yourself to answer, all you could do was sulk as the last thing that you had just to yourself was taken away and thrown out into the open.

It was bound to happen eventually, you suppose.

[realisticjupiter]

Hii :)

can I request some domestic fluff? I would really like to read Chishiya as a dad and married to the reader, there's barely any Chishiya!Dad content 😔

I LOVE UR WRITING SM BTW, I've read all your work, and I love the way you write Chishiya <333

Hope you have a good day :)

Summary: Chishiya tries to learn to never take his family for granted.

Pairing: dad!chishiya x mom!reader

Genre: Fluff , slight angst

Warnings: angst (it's barely noticeable! I couldn't help myself..), the daughter doesn't have a specific name (I never liked naming kids in fics) lmk if anything else

Word count: 731

a/n: thank you so much for requesting!! I don't think I've ever actually seen dad!chishiya so this was fun to write :). I hope this is good enough to your liking and I'm glad you like my work--have a good day!!!

Chishiya walked into the door as quietly as he could, his keys clinking together as he shut the door behind him.

Of course he didn't want to make either of you wake up, for many reasons. One of them being that he solely just, didn't want to deal with it.

He found himself staying later at work because the thought of coming home almost made him a type of sad he couldn't explain. It made his stomach hurt as if he needed a hug but the thought of someone's touch made his head dizzy.

Home was supposed to be an escape from work, but work turned into an escape for home. Chishiya wasn't sure how he did it, or how he managed to convince himself work was better. It wasn't.

The creak that was made from the rusted hinges on the bedroom door made him cringe. His sock covered feet rustling against the carpet as he made his way inside, looking towards the bed, taking a double take to look at the bodies laid underneath the covers.

Your body lies still next to the smaller one, a hand placed on the small of the child's back as your other hand continues to fidget with the short locks of hair.

He watched your hand make lazy movements against the child's scalp, making him smile at the endearing sight before him; unable to pull away his gaze nor his thoughts.

You peeked open a single eye to look at the figure standing in the darkness. "You're home." You whispered softly.

"Mhm," Chishiya hummed in reply, finally turning away his gaze to walk away. Wanting to change into more comfortable clothing.

You pulled away from the small girl beside you to sneak out of bed, following Chishiya towards the walk-in closet.

He raised a brow when he heard you closely behind him, confused why you'd rather be around him than to peacefully sleep.

"Is everything okay with you?" You whispered, flicking on the light as he removed his white coat.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" He answered, letting his coat fall to the ground with the clink of his name tag.

"I don't know.." You shrugged, walking towards him with uneasy steps.

He turned around to face you as you slid your palms through the opening of his untucked shirt, his breath hitched at the touch but his entire body melted into it.

"You've been distant, Chishiya." You admitted, avoiding eye contact as you looked down at your hands that hid beneath the blue scrubs.

He thought about his next words, afraid of any negative reaction you could give him by just two simple words.

"I'm sorry." Two words he never said often; often as in ever. Maybe once or twice through your relationship but never as meaningful as the way they slipped past his lips in the softest whisper he could.

Your eyes met his glassed over ones, unsure if it was because he was exhausted or about to cry.

"It's okay." You assured him, bringing your hands away from his stomach. But, before he could miss the soft touch, your hands rested on either side of his face.

He wanted to speak but kept his silence to linger in the moment with your thumbs tracing light circles on his cheeks.

"Daddy?" The young girl voiced from behind you, obviously tired by her tiny yawn and her fingers that clawed at her eyes.

He looked at you, as if to ask for permission to pull away from the addicted touch. You smiled at him and pulled your hands away to turn around and watch the young girl run towards Chishiya with open arms.

He bent down to bring her into his embrace, picking her up to hold her against his chest. "Tired?" He hummed to her, but his eyes on you as if the question was also aimed at you.

You nodded before the young girl could disagree with a mumbled no against his shoulder.

You laughed as she attempted to fight off her sleep, but when he passed her over to you so he could finish changing; she was passed out in your arms.

The smallest interaction with his family made him realize how much he missed your soft touch. The realization he hasn't felt your hands around his skin in what felt like ages made his heart hurt.

Nevertheless, he'd never take you for granted again.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[neos127]

WHY HER? — SIM JAEYUN (chapter eighteen)

pairing. idol!jake x fem!fan!reader synopsis. in the most cliche way, jake falls for a fan of his. y/n just has to decide if she’s able to handle being apart of his life. notes. last chap…

Y/N was sweating from nerves. Jake was about to arrive at any moment and she felt sick. The feeling reminded her of when the two first started hanging out, which brought a small slice of comfort.

Y/N was sure that she readjusted her outfit and seating position multiple times before she heard the click of the front door opening. Jake walked in with a small backpack slung around his arm, but it was immediately dropped to the floor when he saw Y/N sitting at the kitchen island. The two stared at each other for what felt like hours, before Jake finally broke the silence.

“You came back.” He stated, his voice cracking slightly. Jake didn’t want to become emotional in front of her again, but the boy felt as if he could cry from how happy he was. Y/N nodded, hesitantly walking up to him with the flowers.

“Happy birthday.” Y/N spoke up, mentally preparing to give the long speech she had planned out in her head. But before the younger girl could open her mouth, Jake brought her into a hug, making the flowers fall to the floor. He gripped her closely, as if she would disappear if he let go.

“I’m so sorry, Jake.” Y/N mumbled, feeling tears fall down her face and onto Jake’s jacket. The boy shushed her, patting the top of her head in reassurance. He knew that Y/N probably felt guilty, but he had never expected her to mend their relationship in person.

“I know you might still be upset, and I’m so sorry for that. I never wanted to hurt you, I was just being stupid. I was only thinking about myself and that wasn’t fair.” Y/N explained, already forgetting her speech and just letting her heart speak for itself.

“I don’t think I ever stopped loving you, and not being in your arms like this for months was really hard.” She continued, her voice wavering as more tears fell. Jake pulled away with a surprised look.

“You love me?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he wiped Y/N’s tears away.

“I do, I really do and I’m sorry I never got to tell you. I should’ve said it back and then we could’ve figured something out but—” Jake cut off Y/N’s rambling, shushing her quietly.

“I know how you were treated, Y/N/N. I don’t blame you for leaving, and if you want to do that again then be my guest. I’m just glad I get to see you right now.” Jake explained, looking at you with sad eyes. He was way too considerate for his own good and it made Y/N’s heart beat ten times faster.

“I don’t think I can ever walk out on you again. Meeting you was the best thing that has ever happened to me and I won’t take that for granted again.” Y/N said to Jake, reaching up to push stray hairs away from his face. The boy couldn’t help but smile at the contact, missing her touch more than anything.

“So then…I can be your boyfriend again?” Jake asked, looking at the girl with hopeful eyes. Y/N nodded excitedly, giggling when Jake’s smile widened. He leaned down to kiss her, savoring the feeling of her lips against his after months of being apart.

Y/N pulled away slightly when she felt tears fall against her face. She wiped under Jake’s eyes with her sleeve before leaving a kiss on his nose. The boy couldn’t help but let a few tears slip, feeling overjoyed at the thought of Y/N being his again. He hadn’t been himself for a while, to the point where everyone around him noticed. But seeing the love of his life waiting for him in his dorm after being apart for a while made every emotion he had come crashing down.

“Please don’t cry, you’re gonna make me cry too.” Y/N groaned, making Jake giggle and pull her back into his arms. The two stood there for a while, slowly rocking back and forth while holding onto each other as if they never would again.

“We’re going to be okay, Y/N. We’ll figure everything out.” Jake spoke after a while, still holding Y/N close and stroking her hair. The girl nodded against his shoulder before letting out a small sigh.

“I know. But this time i’m willing to do whatever it takes to be with you. Even if I have to withstand more spitting on my shoes.” Y/N replied, a teasing smile on her face.

“I’m sorry you have to go through that, love.” Jake mumbled, moving his hand down to her back to run soothing circles.

“It’s alright. It’s worth it for the most incredible boy I’ve ever met.”

BONUS.

“You didn’t even see the spider-man flowers I got you.” You whined, pointing to the crumbled mess on the ground. Jake gasped, dropping to his knees as he tried to fix the bouquet.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just got so excited. This is really cool by the way, you’re too good to me.” Jake apologized, standing up with the flowers and giving you a sheepish smile. You let out a small laugh, leaning over to kiss his cheek.

“You’re lucky I love you, Sim Jaeyun.”

“Do you mind saying that again…and maybe fifty more times? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

A/N. and that is it for ‘why her?’!! i’m so sorry if this chapter seems rushed i honestly just rlly wanted to finish it and get it out there. i hope you guys enjoyed and im rlly thankful for everyone who’s been following along! i love reading your comments it makes my day <3

previous | masterlist | the end :)

taglist. @junityy @super-amberlynn @jvjsssnaa @dreamiesformula @deepdeancloudspy @syazzzlisa @nnana2 @hkkbrosdienagge @iheartjayke @chappellraon @yelshin @yunville @4xiaojun @ramenoil @desistay @mandoscyare @nikiswifereal27 @mitchii @eternallyhyucks @bgomtori @woninluv @theyluvfrankocean @iilwji @herebyaccident0 @geombyu @vixensss @oldjws @moon4moony @kimsunoops @sainthoma @rosas-in-the-garden @shiikan0iin @skz8love @lycxee @chloelr60

[minispidey]

if you do one shots, could you do one where bimbo gf (reader) and steven get halloween costumes. i’ll try to explain best i can, but reader puts bag of their costumes in the bathroom . reader got a playboy bunny, but it is still in the bag. reader tells steven to change into costume but steven gets confused and changes into the playboy bunny one and is very flustered. ik this is a very long request but i NEED more bimboxsteven

YOU'RE A BUNNY, DUH!

Steven Grant x f!bimbo!reader.

warnings: suggestive content, bimbo is really horknee okay??

a/n: hi babes! ty for requesting this! had to do this before october ended for halloween because duhhh it's halloween! i had such a huge writer's block (plus i got sick) and this is as good as i can write at the moment. again, ty for the request! so sorry it's short!

If there's a season your little bimbo heart loved more than spring, it's definitely autumn. The smell of the fresh cold air, the pumpkins, the leaves falling down on your hair, and of course— halloween.

It was your first halloween in London. You planned like crazy to have the best night ever with your boyfriend (which consisted of non stop fucking in your flat at first) and bought costumes for you two to hit up a couple pubs.

Knowing how shy Steven is when it came to how sexy you are, you wanted to wear something revealing. You wanted to drive him crazy and make him fuck you right there at that very moment he looks at you.

"Stevie!" your voice boomed in his flat, following the sound of you shutting his door "I'm back, baby!"

"I'm in bed, love!" he responded. Steven sets his book down and takes off his glasses, watching you walk towards him.

"Hi, Stevie. I missed you so much!" you straddled him and cupped his face "I got your costume~"

"You went shopping for three hours, love. I'm just here. I could've come with you if you wanted." Steven then rests his head in between your breasts, taking in your scent.

"Why don't you go try it on? It's in the bathroom. I'll show you mine later."

"It's that much of a surprise that you left it in the loo? Is it naughty?"

"Later." you began to squeal when Steven began blowing raspberries into your breasts "Stevie! I promise, later!" you giggled before playfully pushing him away.

Steven laughed at your reaction and smiled at you "Alright, alright. If you got me a ghost face costume, you're in for a rough night."

"I'm counting on it~"

"Cheeky."

Steven got up and watched as you lied down in his previous position and smiled. He walked inside the bathroom and closed the door behind me before digging into the pink shopping bag.

His eyebrows furrowed before his eyes widened "What the..." he takes out a pink corset and pink silk panties, along with pink stockings.

"She has to be kidding." Marc says from the headspace. Steven looks up into the mirror to find Marc judging him "No way are we coming out of this place wearing that."

"Come on, she probably looked for it for hours... I don't wanna make her sad..."

"Honesty is the best policy."

"Honesty hurts people sometimes." Steven sighed before taking his shirt off.

"You're serious?!"

"Stevie? You've been in there a while considering all you needed to wear was a sheet and a mask..." you knocked on the bathroom door before pacing back and fourth again, waiting.

The lock of the door clicked and the door opened wide, Steven stepping out in a pink playboy bunny costume, complete with a bunny tail and ears.

You covered your mouth and held in your laugh "Steven?"

"Does it look bad?"

"No no! It's just that..." you giggled "That's actually mine."

"Wait what?" Steven's eyes widened.

You walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck "But you know... you look so fucking hot..." you breathed into his neck. Your left leg hooked behind his leg and you started placing kisses along his collar bone.

"L-Love?"

"I want you to fuck me. Right here right now."

Steven froze for a moment before slowly nodding and started to pull down the silk panties and stockings. Your hand stopped him.

"The costume stays on, Stevie... take your cock out."

[renata-has-thoughts]

I've never done an ask before so this might suck

There is little to no narrator x readers and your writing is the best I've ever seen!!!!

If you have spare time could you pretty please possibly make another narrator smut where he's all pent up desperate and whiny but then fucks fem reader as rough as he can?

Kinda friend's to lovers almost?

If it's stupid or embarrassing please ignore this request all together!

Outlet

Pairing: Tyler Durden (Narrator) x f!reader W/C: 1.6k

Includes: NSFW!Friends to lovers, rough sex, penetrative sex, mutual orgasm, and, as requested, pent up Tyler.

A/N: Stupid? Embarrassing? Anon, we have nothing to be ashamed of. The Narrator is hot, this is indisputable fact.

“So you’re telling me…you have a club…where you fight. That you’re in…” you muttered, punctuating your words by tapping the table between you two alongside your disbelieving words.

“Yeah.” Tyler nodded without further explanation, taking a sip of his drink as if he had said enough. As if this were a normal thing to say.

“Y’know, when you told me you couldn’t hang out because you had ‘a club meeting’ all those times, I thought it was something stupid-or more importantly, normal, like a book club…or chess club, or something. But here you are willingly going to get your ass beat every week.”

“Why are you assuming I’m the one losing the fights?” Tyler asked, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

You paused, and shrugged. Granted, he has become a lot more toned over these past few months. More prominent muscles, a bit more confidence, the like.

“Right. Well, to each their own, but…try not to get too hurt, alright? Don’t expect me to nurse you back to health.” You sighed, staring at your drink.

“I wouldn’t burden you with something like that.” Tyler said, finishing off his own drink. A moment of comfortable silence passed. You two were good friends, had been for awhile, so it never was awkward anymore.

“Why?” You asked suddenly.

“Hm?”

“Why do you fight? Why are you in that club?”

Tyler ran his finger along the rim of the empty bottle for a second, then replied, “it’s helpful, I guess. It’s an outlet.”

“As in, therapeutic?”

“Yeah. I mean, everyone has their ways of getting out that anger. Getting an adrenaline rush.” He explained, his eyes leaving yours, and added, “I guess some with actual therapy, yeah, or healthy things like writing or sex.” He didn’t look up, especially at that last part. You noted that he hasn’t had a girlfriend, or otherwise, in the whole time you’ve known him, which was a good amount of time. Then you realized, neither had you.

“I feel like there’s a difference between things like therapy, writing and such, and sex.” You said, and put your drink aside, with your final swig. Usually by now, during these afternoons where you’d meet up at your house for drinks, Tyler would say his goodbyes, but now he merely shifted back in his chair.

“Depends.” He mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, as in, it depends on the sex.”

“Why? Is fighting for you a substitute for sexual frustration?” You laughed, but partly a genuine question, too.

“Well it’s not like fighting gets me going or anything, but they both relieve a similar thing.”

A silence simmered yet again.

For once, it was awkward.

“How long has it been since you’ve had sex?” You questioned softly.

“…I dunno. …maybe a year by now.” He responded, meeting your eyes again.

You thought, and recalled that it had been the same amount of time of celibacy for you, too.

“Same here.” You admitted, and caught his gaze.

Yes. You were very much attracted to him. It’s no secret you two had flirted playfully, but it was nothing more than banter, right?

By the way he looked at you then, you could tell it was never that casual for him.

Suddenly, he looked away again, clearing his throat as if catching himself.

“Thanks for the drinks, as usual. Uhm, I should get going.” He said, rising from his chair.

You mirrored his actions, but then rounded the table to stand before him in a swift action.

“I haven’t been entirely honest with you, Tyler.” You stopped him, grabbing his hand.

Something flashed in his eyes when you said that, like a prediction of your coming words.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath when your other hand grabbed his waist, pulling him closer to you.

“Tyler, I-I think you’re-“

“Say I can kiss you. Tell me to kiss you. Right fucking now.” Tyler interrupted, intertwining his fingers with yours. His eyes widened.

“Please.” You whimpered.

He tilted his head, eyes closing as he pressed his body to you, along with his lips to yours. It started small, drawing away for a second for him to breathe in before returning, open-mouthed this time, his tongue sliding next to yours. He moaned into the kiss, and soon so did you when his hand slid to slowly knead your waist.

You began shifting back, tugging him by his shirt while you broke the kiss, guiding him to your room.

“Tyler,” you explained as you headed to your bed, “get it out on me.”

“W-What?” He gasped as you let go of him to slide off your shirt.

“The tension. All that’s pent up in you.”

“Oh, fuck,” he whined under his breath upon seeing you now only in your bra. “Yeah, yeah, I…I can do that.” He nodded, swallowing down his nerves.

“I can take it, Tyler. Whatever you give me. I can take it.” You promised, staring into his eyes.

“Really?” He murmured again, still in that whiny tone.

“Yes.”

His breathing halted, then sped up, like a racehorse when the gun fires, he fumbled at his jeans, stripping them off. He pushed you down onto your bed and climbed on top of you, keeping a hand pressed down on you after he threw off his shirt.

“God, you’re so hot. I’ve always thought that,” Tyler rambled, tugging your pants off.

“Do you know how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you?” You moaned while he rid you of the rest of your clothes, bra and all.

“Fuck, holy shit-don’t even-don’t even tease me like that. I don’t think I can g-get any harder than I am.” He exemplified this by taking off his boxers, leaving you both naked and panting already.

“Please, please use me,” you cried, gripping onto his shoulders.

“Want me to treat you rough? Huh?”

“Yes!”

Two fingers dipped down into you, smoothing along the wetness you had ever since he had mentioned the mere idea of sex.

You moaned loudly, not just by the feeling, but the fact it was Tyler. It was Tyler, of all people, fucking you. Finally.

His fingers left you to grab himself, pushing him into you steadily, groaning at the feeling of pressure around his cock, you easily inviting him, warm and slick.

“I knew you would f-feel so good. I knew it.” He whined, both hands groping your waist and pulling you down along into him.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and your head rose to mouth desperately at his neck. That was his final breaking point.

He began thrusting into you, using every inch of his cock through your impossible tightness. It seemed like every part of you went numb except for the places he was hitting.

It was euphoric. It was Tyler fucking you. And he was fucking you good.

His breathing occurred through grit teeth and growls, his pace unyielding. The spots in which he was grabbing your waist to shove you into him while he thrusted would surely bruise in the morning, and your body got hot just by thinking about that.

Tyler shot one hand up to your neck, just under your jaw, and you gasped in surprise, although it was quickly drowned out by stuttered whimpers as he continued his abuses. His fingers prodded into your mouth, with his palm firmly on your neck. You took them in hungrily, licking and sucking on them, making him moan. His reaction was enough to make you shiver.

“You f-feel so good.” You managed through the obstruction of not only his fingers but the overwhelming pleasure.

“Yeah?” He promoted, removing his hand placement on your neck in favor of slotting his damp fingers above your clit. “You like it rough?” He growled, proceeding to change his quick thrusts to hard slams.

From the combination of everything he was doing, you felt sweat form on your brow.

“Tyler, I-I’m gonna cum,” you moaned.

“Yeah? Hm? Cum for me.”

“Don’t stop! Please, fuck, don’t-“

“Baby, I don’t plan on it.”

There it was. Your orgasm approached you with the same raging force as Tyler’s pace. Hot and dizzying. As he vowed, he did not stop, staying at the same speed despite the mumbling of curses under his breath, stammered ramblings of ‘so tight’, ‘yes, fuck yes’.

You couldn’t help but bite his neck as you let the remnants of your orgasm finish onto him. He groaned loudly as your teeth found purchase in his skin, and he pulled out just as your orgasm faded to grab his cock and guide himself through his orgasm, cumming onto your stomach with breathy whines, his composure shattering with each small sound.

You left a kiss on the mark you made on his neck, letting your head fall back onto the bed to look into his eyes, drained but still transfixed on you.

“Tyler? You there?” You smiled.

“Y-Yeah. Fuck.” He replied, catching his breath. “Are you alright?”

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had, Tyler.” You were saying that genuinely. “Of course I'm alright.”

His eyes seemed to light up, despite his exhaustion when you said that.

“Thank god.” He mumbled, lowering himself to lie by your side, running his hands through his hair to collect himself. “That was definitely the best for me, too.” His eyes fell closed.

“Could I ask you one more favor?”

“Sure, anything.” Tyler responded, opening his eyes again.

“Uhm…” you began, and gestured to your stomach, where he just came on.

“Oh! Right! Shit, sorry.” Tyler laughed, getting up from the bed and heading to your closet, grabbing his boxers along the way and sliding them back on.

You felt content in that moment. You first regarded your attraction to Tyler as frivolous and one-sided, yet now you watched him leaning down beside you, wiping you off with a washcloth and kissing your forehead.

[noosayog]

wc: 500

warnings/content: angst

part 9. directory here.

--

The one thing you liked in Atsumu was the way he always made you feel wanted. And nothing he’s ever done has made you feel more wanted than the way he desperately pushes his lips against yours, cupping your face in a gentle yet possessive manner, a silent plea for you to let this happen. A calm washes over you when you feel his desperation, opening your eyes to see his tightly screwed shut, as if he’s in deep sleep and this is all a dream. 

But when your eyes wash over the walls of his room, the bed that it happened on, you push away once more. 

“Atsumu,” you say shakily. “You can’t do this to me.” 

He reaches for you, only shaking his head. 

You take one step further in response. “You knew.” Your voice quivers, the hurt still fresh. “You knew that I was trying really hard to let you in. You knew that I’ve never done this with anyone and you still betrayed that. I know that we never agreed to be exclusive or whatever-” 

“No!” he exclaims. “We didn’t have to. You were the only one, I swear.”

“How can I believe you? When I saw you…” 

When he explains, you missing the game, being late to the party, the shirt, your mind tells you that it isn’t good enough. 

But when you see the haggard look in his eyes, the dark circles, red-rimmed eyelids, your heart desperately wants to believe him. It wants to grant him rest that you know he’ll find in you. You want to believe that despite the circumstances in which he stole your first kiss, this chemistry isn’t replicable with anyone else. 

“Atsumu,” you say, palm coming up to touch his cheek. He closes his eyes, pushing his face against your touch. “I’m trying here, but I need you to be better, you know?” 

“I know,” he whispers. 

“I believe you.” 

His eyes open wide. 

“But,” 

He freezes. 

“I need some time. I need to think about this because if what you said is all true-” 

“It is.” 

“-then I need to think about us. If this is right for me and if I can forgive you for that night.” 

He looks like he has more to say, but you hold a hand up. “I believe you, and I like you a lot, ‘Tsumu. But I don’t want to resent you for that night. I need time.” 

There’s a long moment of silence before he nods. “Okay.” 

“I’m going to go now, Atsumu.” 

You get up, but he stays staring at his balled fists full of bedsheet, looking so much like he’s going to cry and like you just abandoned him. And because he’s the first one who has ever pulled you so far out of your comfort zone and kissed you like you were his lifeline and simply because you like him so much, you gently untangle his fingers from his sheets and slip them between yours, pulling him with you towards the door. Before you slip out, you lean up on your tiptoes and press a light kiss to his cheek. It feels like everything a first kiss should be. 

When you turn around to shut the door, the last thing you see is Atsumu frozen with his eyes still closed and cheek leaning downwards as if that would make your touch last longer.

[hollandsfavbabe]

Where Do We Go Now

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader

synopsis: in which the death of y/n's father leaves her determined to bring him back and her boyfriend peter determined to save her

warnings: endgame aftermath, death, parental loss, isolation, suicide attempt (but magical?), it gets better - I promise

word count: 7.1k

masterlist

a/n: Hey guys. This is going to be a bit longer than my usual notes, but I feel like I should explain why I've been gone for so long and why this story is a lot sadder than my usual ones. My community has been riddled with tragedy recently as we've lost a lot of people to suicide this past year, some of which have been as young as middle school age. One of my friends died by suicide a couple months ago. I can't express to you guys how hard it's been trying to deal with the pain and the guilt his death has caused me and my loved ones. So many days have passed where I wish I could've been a better friend for him while he was here. It hurts more knowing that other people are hurting too. Writing this was the best way for me to cope for many reasons. I wanted to write about how I'm feeling and honor my friend in some way even if it's through a silly little fanfiction. I know I'm late, but I also wanted to honor one of my favorite characters, Tony Stark as he canonically died this past October. That being said, if you are struggling please, I implore you, talk to someone. There are so many people on this planet who would be so torn without you. My dms are always a safe space if you need anything at all <3

Also I'd like to thank Gracie Abrams for her music that I had on repeat the entire time I was writing this. I hope you like it!

“I am Iron Man.”

The words replayed in your head, over and over like a broken record with no one to turn it to a new tune. That’s exactly how you felt. So alone in your grief that even if miraculously every wish you'd ever made in the whole of your existence had been granted, it still wouldn’t be enough to make you happy again. To make you feel anything besides the constant regret and incessant grief that anchored you down as you wasted away in your bed.

It had been exactly a week since the passing of the great Tony Stark. Everyone else in the compound had mourned their coworker, riddled by a somewhat lesser version of your sadness for only a few days after his death. It’s not as if their grief had been washed away as if it never stained their cheeks with tears or weighed down their hearts with sorrow, but it eased much quicker than yours and before long they could continue their duties. Everything was so much harder for you because Tony hadn’t just been a coworker. He was your father.

You relieved every memory you had of him like bittersweet torture. You remembered when he held you as a little girl, wiping up a bloodied knee. When he discovered you had powers and helped you control them. Later on when he banned you from joining in on the Avenger’s Civil War and afterwards when he thanked you for sneaking in to help anyway. You could almost feel his comforting embrace as if it was only yesterday that he was assuring you before a failed battle against the mad Titan Thanos, the same one that left you dusted and missing your father’s last five years on Earth. And finally, of course, you remember his last moments all too well. It played out before you like the tragic ending of a stage play. 

“Let me do it,” you shouted over the sound of war cries and carnage that surrounded you on the packed battlefield. “I can take it!”

You were almost certain that your power, your immeasurable magic, could handle the debilitating strength of the Infinity Stones making you the most reasonable choice for snapping Thanos and his army out of existence, but your father refused to risk losing his eldest.

“No,” he breathed, the metal plate shielding his chest rising and falling from the heat of the action. There was only one way to succeed, only one way to put a stop to the destruction of the universe. It had to be him. “I won’t risk losing you, not while you’re still so young. You have so much life ahead of you.”

“Not without you!” you cried, a tear streaming from your eye.

There wasn’t much time for your conversation as the world was moments away from being wiped of its human history, but despite the odds your father pulled you into a tight hug, as if he knew it would be the last. You both did.

“You are the strongest person I’ve ever known and I’m so proud of what you’ve become already.” he smiled when you finally pulled apart.

“I need you dad,” you sobbed, still reluctant to let him leave you. With the threat of his death, suddenly Thanos’ defeat didn’t matter anymore. Not nearly as much as having your father by your side. “I’m not ready.”

Your dad looked down on you with the saddest of smiles, but if any part of him was upset about his decision, he made no other hint toward it. He just held you close for as long as possible and comforted you in the way that you could always count on him for. In the way, it hit you, that you could never count on him for again. But yet, in the face of death, he cradled you close and spoke in his signature fatherly tone: assertive yet on the edge of softness.

“No one’s ever ready -,” he answered truthfully. “- but I know you can handle it. You always do.”

You looked up at him as he finally pulled away and headed towards the purple giant, but not before turning to you for one final declaration.

“I love you, junior, to the edge and back again.”

And then he was gone. You never got the chance to say it back.

Yours was the last name he uttered before his heart stopped beating and the light on his suit went out. By then Pepper had already said her goodbyes and you both were huddled close to his body, weeping as the other Avengers knelt around you in honor of your father. Peter was hunched behind you, one hand on your shoulder while the other worked to wipe away his own tears. Oh Peter, you had your father to thank for him.

It was Tony who was credited with setting you up with your long term boyfriend, Peter Parker, even if it was a complete accident. You two had gotten acquainted on a fateful plane ride to Germany and eventually ended up together after many failed attempts at confessing your feelings. There was something about him that had you smitten with him from your first encounter, your liking only strengthened when you learned that your father approved. He’d been with you through thick and thin and even now, Peter was the only person who could even remotely share your pain besides Pepper. Tony was like his father too.

He’d taken care of you ever since the incident. Brought you food and water, helped you dress in your black attire for the funeral, laid with you in your bed each night to calm you whenever you awoke in a nightmarish terror. He showed his love for you prevailing over his grief in the most selfless of ways and yet all you had managed to do since you father’s funeral was stand to use the restroom every once in a while. It piled on more weight that your poor soul could already take. You were nothing, but a miserable burden now.

The door to your room opened with squealing hinges as Peter stepped in, returning from school where he had spent the morning reuniting with your shared friends and finding out when the official return date was. You were supposed to join him, but instead you hadn’t moved an inch since he left. It wasn’t as if you wanted to waste the entire day in your lonely sheets again. You yearned for everything to go back to how it was; when Peter was happy and you could share it with him. When your father used to smile upon the two teens he didn’t mean to bring together. When your father was alive.

“Hey,” he said, softly as if not to startle you from your endless torturous pondering. He set something down on your dresser, a small stack of papers he must have gathered from the school, and removed his fall coat before sauntering over to you. The bed creaked and shifted under his weight as he took a seat next to you. “Good news, we don’t have to go back until the next semester so we get a break until January. Ned was asking about you. He wants to know how you’re doing.”

You turned your head to look at him, your eyes red-rimmed from all of your crying and your lips cracked and dry.

“What did you tell him?” you croaked, your voice hoarse from under use. There was little to talk about and no one else to talk to whenever Peter wasn’t around. Pepper had visited you once, but with Morgan to look after, she couldn’t spare much time for her late husband’s grieving daughter. You’d seen Happy a couple times as well, but he needed his own time to recover and reflect on his past time with his best friend.

Peter was gentle as he tucked some of the hair strands snot cemented to your jaw behind your ear and cupped your cheek in his palm. He was cold from the autumn chill outside, but his hand ignited the same soothing heat that his touch always brought forth.

“I said you were recovering,” he answered truthfully. “And that it’s different for everyone. And no matter how long it takes, I’m here for you every step of the way.”

The ghost of a smile graced your lips and had it not felt like it stopped beating after losing your father, your heart may have fluttered in its cavity in your chest.

“Thanks Peter,” you curled closer to him in the most sincere of ways. “But I’m afraid it’s going to be a while before I can get up to see Ned again. Give him my best.”

“Take your time. I’m sure he understands.” Peter assured before pulling off his flannel and laying down beside you to wrap you in his arms, allowing you to tuck your face in his chest. As unhappy as you were, all the swirling emotions of suffering were always suppressed by the sound of Peter’s heart and the feel of his body around yours. You stayed like that for a while, holding each other before Peter broke the silence as it neared time for your midday meal.

“I think you should come with me today,” Peter suggested, rising to run his daily lunch retrieval before running a loving hand through your hair. You couldn’t understand how he hadn’t gotten sick of you yet. You hadn’t been able to wash in over a week. “It’s not good for you to stay here all day long. You need to start moving.”

His voice was full of worry, though he wasn’t overbearing. He wanted the best for you, it’s all he ever wanted really.

“I don’t know Peter, I don’t think I can.” you sighed as tears started to fill your eyes again. How could anyone stand to be around you when you were being so pathetic. You wished there was a way to erase your pain, anything to bring you to your normal self again.

“It's okay baby,” Peter hugged you into a tight embrace, kissing your tears as they fell in slow salty streams. “I know it hurts, I feel it too. But I read somewhere that the best thing to do is keep a consistent routine. Maybe you should start today. Come get lunch with me.”

You wanted to agree, but there was no part of you that could move from the weight of your grief. It pressed you down, gravity multiplied by the mass of your sadness as it consumed you. It felt as if only a miracle could save you now.

“I’m so sorry.” you stated with remorse, but Peter made no move to share his disappointment if he had any at all. Instead he leaned down from his seated position and placed his lips on your forehead, a gesture as if to say that all was alright.

“Please don’t cry, y/n. It’s okay.” he assured you before standing to leave and get you something that you figured you probably wouldn’t even eat very much of.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, turning the handle of your door to leave before looking back at you sprawled on your bed. Suddenly, as if he had recalled the cure to the rainiest of days, he expression shifted to one of great excitement as he stopped back into your room.

“I almost forgot,” he began. “Doctor Strange was here earlier. He wanted me to tell you he’s offering some meditation sessions for you if you’re interested. He said they’d be good for your powers and that they might help you feel better if you want to think about it. He’s free at 8 tomorrow.”

You nearly perked up at the sound of the man’s name, picking up your head to cast a last longing glance at Peter as he waited for a parting word.

“Thanks,” you managed. “I’ll let you know.”

And off Peter went to get you both something to eat.

You weren’t sure if he knew how dangerous it was for you to be left with your thoughts, how the mention of the magic doctor sprouted a myriad of mystical ideas all aimed at the same goal that would erase your eternal lonesome aching. How to bring your father back. By the time Peter returned with his hands full of two homemade sandwiches and more sweets than the two of you could ever finish in one sitting, your mind had been made up and you were ready to set the plan in motion.

The following evening was your first time out of the confines of your rooms for days. Peter had helped you greatly with all the tasks you did not have the mental power to do all on your own. He had brushed your hair and made your bed and before you left in one of the less expensive cars held on Avenger’s campus, he sent you off adorned with one of his favorite sweatshirts, a peck on the forehead and enough I love you’s to last more than a lifetime.

You pulled the sleeve of Peter’s sweatshirt over your palm as you drove off, using the cloth to wipe away fresh tears that had fallen after you left your boyfriend’s loving gaze. You’d always been an overthinker, but your bad habits crept up on you worse in your unbreakable stage of sadness. Especially in your father’s favorite car.

You didn’t understand why he hadn’t left you already. Maybe he would. Peter had offered to join you at Strange’s, but after you insisted you had to go alone, he made plans to go help his Aunt May figure out their apartment situation as the pair had been inadvertently kicked out after being gone for so many years. You’d almost forgotten he used to split his nights between the compound and his own bedroom. Recently he’d only stay with you.

He promised to be back before dinner so that the two of you could keep up your progress, but an unsolicited voice within you convinced you that he wouldn’t want to return. You weren’t good enough for him anymore, not like you used to be. Your plan was better for the both of you and as you pulled up to the familiar building on Bleecker Street, all the pieces started to fall into place.

You stepped up to the door, raising your fist to knock only for the door to crack open by itself as if to invite you in. You waited for the familiar sternness of Doctor Strange’s voice to greet you once you were past the stone floored foyer, but only wisps of the autumn breeze caught your ear. 

“Strange?” you called, your voice still not stable enough to be louder than a whispery dialogue. You were met with no response. It was just like you had planned. The wizard wasn’t home.

You felt a strong tug towards the room of your desires, the forbidden library. It was as if fate was leading you or some other force from above, another sign that you were meant to do it.

Your steps were more sure than they had been in days as you made your way to the self, passing any magical fire walls with the sheer unfiltered strength of your powers. Strange once told you that they were guided by your emotion, the quintessential essence of every magic holder even to people like you and Wanda Maximoff who were outside of his world protecting wizard cult. It was easier than it should have been, like slicing paper with a katana, you broke each enchantment until all that was left was the cool leather cover of the book you were looking for. The book with every answer you needed inside its ancient yellowing pages, but you only needed the spell that would revive your father. Locating it near the middle of the book, your tore out the page and turned back to your car, leaving the Sanctum with the same unhurried pace you had entered it with. There was no stopping you now.

Peter was only an half an hour late for your agreed meet up time when he arrived at the campus. He expected you’d be in your room as per usual and as he made his way to your door, the excitement of getting to hold you and talk about your first day out of the campus since the funeral built up in his chest. He wasn’t sure if any accomplishment in the world could make him as proud as he was of you. With two brown paper bags of groceries in his hand, he couldn’t wait to shower you in the affection that you deserved with all of your favorite snacks, enough to share of course.

“Y/n,” he smiled, using his webbing to open your door handle only to find, much to his disappointment, that you were nowhere to be found.

He checked all over campus, leaving the bags by your bed. No one had seen you since you’d left and the spot where the car you’d taken was still empty, the normally pristine concrete covered in fallen crisp maroon leaves. It didn’t make any sense. Where could you possibly have gone?

“Y/n!” he called, circling the perimeter of the campus looking for you. There was still no sign of your reappearance. “Y/n- oh. Hi Ms. Maximoff.” Peter forced a strained smile as he nearly bumped into the woman.

“Peter, we’ve been over this,” Wanda answered, her voice calm. “You can call me Wanda.”

Like you, the witch hadn’t been doing the best in recent days as she had lost something just as valuable as a father: her partner. While she occasionally had days where the ground would’ve been lucky to feel the grace of her step, her superhero duties had kept her from spending each day hidden from society. She had a different way of coping, but like others, she seemed to start getting back into routine again.

“Right, sorry Wanda.” Peter apologized.

“What are you doing out here?” inquired the witch in her native Sokovian accent, always intuitive. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s y/n. I can’t find her anywhere and we agreed to meet back here nearly - an hour ago!” Peter pulled up his coat sleeve to check the time on his watch, the face of which bore a picture of him and your father from only a few months before the snap. It had been a birthday gift, one of his favorites in fact, though it couldn't top what you had given him the same year: a lego set and your first kiss.

“I didn’t know that she got out of bed. That’s a big step!” 

“Yes it is and we were going to celebrate tonight, but she hasn’t come back yet which is really not like her.” worried Peter.

“Where did she go?”

“Strange’s. He was going to give her a meditation lesson for her powers.”

Confused, Wanda's eyebrow furrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Doesn’t she know how to use them already?”

“Yes, but he thought it would help her manage her grief. Working out is a pretty common method, but she hates going to the gym so he figured some meditation would be better for her and -“

“Wait, hold on. Did she go to him this morning?”

“Yes and she was supposed to be back around noon, but it’s nearly six and she’s still gone.” Peter explained.

“Peter!” Wanda chided. She couldn't believe he could make such a grave mistake.

“What?”

“Strange hasn’t been at the Sanctum all day!”

“What?! Where is he?”

“Do I look like a wizard to you?" the witch gestured to her casual leggings and cardigan pairing that drastically differed from Strange's usual eccentric costumes. "How should I know?”

As if summoned by the topic of conversation, a figure appeared in the distant grass, hovering over the blades until he was close enough to be able to walk. His cape that flowed in the breeze like a blood red stream with a mind of its own was a dead give away. Doctor Strange had indeed arrived in the flesh.

“Parker,” he greeted, though he did not smile. “Is Ms. Stark ready for our lesson?”

Peter’s eyes went wide as he realized his mistake.

“Oh no.” he muttered, shaking his head in defeat. He was met with confusion from the wizard.

“No?” Strange repeated. “We agreed upon 8 didn't we? I know I'm a little early, but I assumed she wouldn't be busy. Didn’t you let her know I was coming?”

“Yes,” Peter confirmed. “I told her to be ready and then I sent her off to your place at 8… am.”

“What?!” Strange exclaimed as he summoned a portal to appear leading directly to his found home on Bleecker Street. He stepped through the fiery ring, a silent invitation for the others to follow as he hurried passed your car, up the steps, and into the door which did not part of him the same way it had earlier. Inside he was met with the most frightful of discovers accompanied by the looming feeling of doom as the situation became clear.

The Sanctum, unguarded with his absence, lay littered with books that had fallen from their homes on his shelf’s yet one stood out from all the others. It laid on the floor open with its pages to the ground while every other book was shut. Levitating it with the simple flick of his wrist, a horrifying sight awaited Strange as he turned it over. One of the pages in the sacred book was missing.

“Do you know how serious this is?!” Strange exclaimed and although Peter at first took it as a barbed criticism aimed directly at him, he was able to distinguish Strange’s tone from when he was reprimanding. This was a separate kind of worry, the sort of tone that he had used heavily on the fated spaceship you three had been stuck in until you landed on Titan, Thanos’ home world, nearly five years ago. Treachery was afoot and if your powers were involved, the whole fabric of your current reality could change.

“Which one did she take?” Wanda pointed to the book, clearly noticing the giant tear in its center.

Strange’s voice answered, heavy with concern. “The revival spell.”

“You don’t think she knows, do you? She can’t possibly know how to conjure it.” asked Wanda, the same concern for their future written all over her face.

“That’s exactly what I think.” Strange confirmed.

“What?” Peter asked. “What are you guys talking about?”

“There are many types of magic, Parker, and the Sanctum, the building where you sent your girlfriend, is full of all of them, good and bad alike. Every spell comes with a price, the bigger the spell, the bigger the price and the spell she took comes with one of the biggest prices there is to pay.”

“Think about it, Peter,” Wanda paled. “What does y/n want most in the world right now?”

It hit Peter harder than fresh fallen hail. You were going to try to bring your father back.

“We have to find her. Now.”

Strange tried to use his sling ring to appear wherever you were, but in your grief, the extent of your powers had grown massively. Intentionally or not, you managed to prevent even the most powerful of wizards from using his Sling Ring to access your location.

“She's blocked me out.” Strange frowned. “We’re going to have to track her on foot.”

“She can’t be far,” Peter agreed. “She always takes the shortest path whenever she wants something.” It was one of the many things he loved about you: your ability to turn any taxing task into something much simpler. You were one of the cleverest people he knew. He just hoped it didn’t work in your favor this time.

It was Wanda who had the idea of tracking your magic. She led them to the nearest withering woodland area, where trees with bare branches and dying leaves sprawled endlessly. It was the perfect place to perform dark magic, away from the unyielding eyes of society. The trio didn’t hesitate to run in.

The further they got, the closer you felt especially to Peter despite the fact that he was the only one without his own source of magic. If he lost you tonight, he feared he’d never feel any sort of magic ever again.

They were only half an acre in when Wanda and Strange called out in anguish, the witch falling to her knees while Strange stayed standing, pounding the air with his fist as his trying to break through an invisible barrier though it was to no avail. Whatever was holding him back, it wasn’t fading anytime soon.

“Keep going, Parker!” he shouted, urging Peter forward. “You’re the only one who can stop her. The spell will only allow that which she loves.”

“How do I do it?” Peter shouted. “How do I stop the spell?”

“The page,” Wanda replied, quicker than Strange could as his reply was easy for her to access. “You have to tear it apart.”

Without wasting a second more, Peter sprung back towards where he could feel you, running without fatigue as his superhuman endurance supplied him with plenty of energy.

It was only a minute later that he caught his first sign of you. There was a break in the tree line out of which a bright amber glow poured like an incandescent warning. It was a dramatic contrast from the normal comforting emerald greens of your magic, but it was you nonetheless and Peter didn’t stop until he was so close he had to shade his eyes from the light.

If it weren’t for the dark nature of what you were doing, Peter would’ve considered it one of the most beautiful events he’d ever seen take place. He wasn’t sure if the circle of trees that surrounded you had been a natural formation or one you made for the sake of the spell, but he was sure the way they seemed to bend to your will, despite the hard wood of their birch trunks, had to be because of your power. In the center of it all was you and the page you had stolen atop a pile of purple and golden leaves. You stood before it, eyes closed as you whispered some sort of incantation. Your powers spread above you in orange flickering flames as you outstretched your arms and summoned what looked like the beginnings of a portal, though it was hard to peer through like a bride covered in a veil of night black.

Peter shouted your name, screaming for you to stop, but you didn’t so much as flinch as the portal grew. You couldn’t hear him over the force of your will. He could start to feel what Wanda and Strange were trapped behind. There was some sort of invisible wall that threatened to push him back from you, but he couldn’t be defeated. He had to stop you. Step by step, he got closer and closer to you, watching in horror as your body was lifted from the ground and floated in midair. A new energy started weeping through the fabric that covered your chest, soft and white like a sheer glittering fabric. It drifted towards the portal and as Peter neared you he could make out the outline of a face forming from it in the black center of it. It started to take shape, growing a neck and a body and becoming more concrete than a fragmented part of your energy. He became more unmistakable as the color grew back into his face. Tony Stark, in the flesh. Peter hurried towards the page.

You opened your eyes to gaze into the face of your father, tears flowing down your face partially from the exhaustion of bringing him back and from being able to see him again.

You tried to say something, tell him how much you had missed him, but you were left rendered without a voice. Your words came out as mouthed nonsense, though it seemed he had regained his voice.

“Y/n,” he uttered, though it seemed more like a warning than a greeting after being torn from you for so long.

You mouthed something you knew he’d understand. I love you too, dad.

Some other force called your name, but you ignored it. You couldn’t focus on anything else, but the father you had lost regaining life right in front of you. With every part that he gained, you felt a part of your fade. It wasn’t painful, more numbing than anything like the final dose to end all your sadness. You couldn’t help but relish in it. You were bringing back one of the greatest men to ever live.

You were so distracted, you missed the web that landed on the page below you and pulled it away.

“Y/n,” your dad said again, nearly having enough of one of his legs to step out of the portal when suddenly, the inky blackness swallowed him whole again and dissolved in the forest light, taking back the only thing you ever wanted.

“NO!” you cried as your voice returned to you and you fell back down to the dry grass and dead leaves, crumpled on the forest floor as all of the magic you had summoned faded away save for the glittering cloud that returned to your chest with such force it made you cough. You had failed.

“Y/n!” someone called and you shuddered away from their hand on your shoulder as loud sobs erupted from you. 

“Leave me!” you begged. “Just leave!” Peter refused to leave your side, tossing behind him the page he had shredded into tiny scraps of paper as he knelt beside you, careful not to touch you again. “Why did you have to do that? Why did you take him from me?”

“You were going to die! I couldn’t let you di-“

“I WANTED TO DIE!”

Peter froze as you whimpered, the truth spreading above the both of you in the cold air like storm clouds as you cried to him.

“I want him back. Everyone wants him back. No one cares about his depressed daughter and I don’t want to hurt anymore, Peter.” you paused to take a deep breath. “It- it hurts so much.” you could barely get the words out as you were choked by your sobs. “It hurts knowing I could’ve saved him. It hurts knowing it should’ve been me that snapped those stupid stones. And I don’t want to live with that anymore. I had to try to bring him back for the world. It needs him more than it needs me.”

You brought a hand to your face, wiping away some of your tears, though it was no use as more came pouring out.

“I need you.” uttered Peter, looking into your glossy eyes. The sight of your tears and the echo of your screams couldn’t deter him from you. You can’t be repelled from the ones that you love.

“But you miss him, don’t you,” you argued as hot tears coated your face. “You want him back too.”

Peter nodded in agreement.

“I think about him everyday. Our moments together. Like this one time he saved me from drowning in a lake. Or-“ Peter grinned. “- remember when he caught us making out that one time before we told him we were together. He was so mad.” Peter smiled to himself, looking fondly on the memory until he began again.

“I miss him so much and it makes me so sad that I'll never see him again. But I wouldn’t trade you for him. I wouldn't trade you for anyone. You’re worth more to me than anyone else in the universe.”

Your sobs slowed yet the tears did not cease as they still cascaded down your face.

“It hurts me so much.” you restated.

Peter opened his arms. “May I?” he asked. You nodded and before you knew it, you were engulfed by a warmth unlike any other as Peter hugged you tight enough to make sure you wouldn’t try to leave him again.

“I know you do,” he related. "And I wish I could take it away. I wish I could just bag all your pain and throw it all away. But it doesn't work like that. It's going to hurt. It's going to be painful, so much so that you won't move from bed for days and days. You haven't." 

"But I feel like everyone else has already moved on. Why can't I?" you shivered.

"No one else was as close to him as you. Everyone else lost a friend. You lost a father. There's a big difference. You can't expect yourself to move on from it. That's not healthy. It's just like I said, I'm here for you no matter how long it takes. You have to take your time with it, don’t rush the process." Peter pressed the lightest of kisses to one of your dampened cheeks.

"I just don't know what to do."

"Breathe."

As silly as it sounded in its simplicity you did as he instructed and inhaled deeply, allowing the air to coat your lungs that hadn’t been exposed to so much fresh air in a week. As you exhaled, you let out another sob in his arms, but somehow it felt better than all the others. You were not rid of your pain by any means and sadness still corroded your core, but for the first time in so long, you didn’t feel so hopeless. Peter placed another gentle kiss on your cheek, encouraging you as you took several more slow breaths and quiet cries until you found the strength to speak again.

“Was it like this for you when your parents died?” you wondered aloud as you pulled away from Peter to look into his chocolate brown eyes that you almost forgot you loved so much, yet not so far that he couldn't keep his arms around your frame that was still bearing his sweatshirt. You hadn’t spoken much about them before and while you weren’t sure where the question had arisen from, it felt like the right thing to ask.

“I was so young when they passed, sometimes I feel like they were never mine to begin with,” he admitted. “I took a couple days off school when it happened, but I don’t remember crying all that much. It’s tragic and sometimes it makes me sad that they’re gone, but I’m glad that it does. It’s a reminder that they were there for me in the first place, that I knew them enough to miss them. The grief is proof that I loved them while they were here.”

You were both silent for a moment as you thought about his words in relation to your situation. All your pain was put into perspective. Everything you had been through since he died, all the days you wasted away in bed, it was all the proof that you had loved him so much when he was alive and that you were still carrying the love you had left for him. You missed your father so much you were willing to die to get him back and for a moment, you almost did.

You parted from Peter’s arms to stand though you still grasped onto his hands as you weren’t strong enough to be upright on your own. You closed your eyes again and listened to the sound of the forest, the swaying of the leaves that still clung to their branches, the faint twittering of birds, and the calm of the sky that was oddly cloudless for autumn. The sound of your name falling from your father’s reformed lips was still faint in the air and for a moment you felt as though you were with him again.

You remembered when he taught you how to ride a bike one evening when you were only four. You remembered the day he pulled you from public school and started teaching you at home. You remembered the look of shock on his face when you showed him your powers for the first time and even more, you remember his pride when you completed your first mission with the Avengers (that he'd approved ahead of time to avoid any more Germany -like surprises). He wasn’t there, but at the same time he was everywhere. And you missed him, but at the same time the absence he left in your life felt less empty.

The tears came out in slow smooth streams, flowing down in slow trickles as you finally sat back down. You didn’t say anything and neither did Peter, but you knew he could feel what you felt. He could feel your father too and minutes slipped by as you sat and cried together.

There was a sudden rustling in the distance and soon enough, Doctor Strange and Wanda had arrived at the scene, no longer held back by invisible barriers. They rushed to you bringing flooding guilt through your system as you began to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Strange opened his mouth to speak, but he had nothing to say. You could tell by his expression that he was disappointed, but there was more to it. He had empathy.

It was Wanda that leaned down to place a friendly hand on your shoulder.

“Let’s get you home.”

The months following were some of the hardest of your life. Every battle you faced was uphill, but you no longer felt like you were fighting alone. You started going out again, first to visit Pepper and your half sister Morgan who lived in their cabin home. Peter joined you of course, but he played with Morgan for the most part while you and Pepper talked. You cried with her, but you laughed a lot too. She shared with you so many of her own memories, times when your father didn't know what to get you for your birthday, when he had managed to mess up cooking dinner in the strangest of ways, and when he’d accidentally burned your favorite stuffed animal in the drying machine all of which Pepper had to remedy. Though she hadn’t raised you, she was the mother you never had and through her stories you learned that your father had been just as good raising Morgan with her as he had been with you.

You hung out with Ned and MJ again shortly after that. While Peter had suggested a brief check-in at a cafe so you could go home quickly to rest, you surprised him with a much more time consuming idea: laser tag. The four of you had the best time targeting each other, you winning more rounds than any of the others. You ended the day with smoothies, talking as you drank and making plans for the next time you would all see each other. MJ made you promise you would text her if you ever needed anything and Ned gave you a whole plate of his Lola’s ensaymadas, your favorite dish of hers.

Finally, though he was locked up in his house and avoiding humanity, you visited Happy. Peter offered to join you like all the other times, but you assured him it would be best if he stayed home, promising you would return later. Happy was in a similar state of dismay to you when you saw him and while he was able to care for himself and continue with his personal routine, you could tell he was hurting.

You didn't say much when you first entered his apartment, but there was comfort within the silence. You sat with him on his sofa and watched whatever mind numbing program he had turned on to distract his thoughts until you had both worked up an appetite for lunch. It was there, in the middle of a random Burger King in Queens over a plate of cheeseburgers that you both broke down. You told him what you had nearly done, trusting him with the sensitive information as he was almost a second father to you. You took your time telling him the story of how you had nearly died to bring back your father.

Happy cried as you did and when you were finished, he told you how much you meant to him. He traded your story for one from your father after he returned from Afghanistan where he had famously been kidnapped.

"You could tell he was shaken," Happy began. "He told me he wasn't scared to die, but he was scared of losing time with you and leaving you alone. Pepper and I had been so busy trying to get him back, he was worried you had been neglected while he was gone. But when he came home and he saw your room clean, your toys put away, and a fridge full of leftovers from meals you prepared yourself, he was so proud. You inspired him to turn his life around. It was after that he told me that he knew you'd be okay if he was taken from us one day."

You both cried after that.

Long after you had finished your food, Happy drove you to the Parker's new apartment with the promise that he would be okay too, eventually. He also admitted that he was starting to develop quite the liking for your faithful boyfriend after hearing all that he had done for you, though he’d skin you alive if you ever told Peter.

It was that night in Peter's new bedroom that you knew you’d be okay. It still hurt to think of your father and you knew you’d never entirely recover and that the pain would never fully leave you, but there was a certain comfort in it now. You knew Peter felt it too as he snuggled half asleep into your side, his arm slung around your body in a protective manner, but also to keep from falling of the twin bed you shared as he let you sleep on the side with the wall. There were still days when you didn’t want to leave your bed, but there were also days when you felt more elated than ever. You could feel your father in those moments the most, like the shine of his smile took form in the light from the sun. You couldn’t see him nor could you speak with him, but you knew he wasn’t really gone. It was love that kept him around. And it was the love you carried for him that would suspend you for lifetimes, through light and dark until the end of time.

“I hope this grief stays with me because its all the unexpressed love” - Andrew Garfield 💙

[not-quite-there-myself]

When You Cry

Synopsis: What they do when they see you cry. Notes: Headcanon format; gender neutral reader; refers to reader as "Summoner"; prompt inspired by @/tiredtealuvr; this has been in my drafts for a really long time, Arcana Twilight Tumblr I'm sorry I didn't get this out to you sooner. It's also been a while since I played, so I hope they weren't too out of character.

Arcturus

He wants nothing more than to see you smile bright and be happy, especially when he's with you. So when he sees your face stained with tears, he can't help but feel like crying himself. Just what's gotten you so upset that you started crying?

He doesn't ask questions first, he'd rather comfort you instead. He wants you to be comfortable and would love nothing more than to see you smiling again. Your smile was always one of his favourite things in Bound Arlyn.

Whatever you need, you can count on Arcturus to get it for you! At least, he'll try to get them to the best of his ability. He can only do so much, but if it's a hug you need, or your favourite food, or even just a moment to relax, he'll do his best to grant all your wishes.

If you ever feel comfortable to talk to him about what made you so upset after you've calmed down, he'll be happy to lend an ear. He'll be your number one cheerleader and tell you that everything's going to be okay; things are just bound to get better, and Arcturus is sure of it.

"Please don't cry, Summoner! Don't worry, everything's going to be okay. You'll feel better in no time, I guarantee it!"

Pollux

The moment he sees you crying is when he drops all the plans he had and rushes over to you. Any classes he was going to attend? He can skip them. An event with Queen Tet that he's helping out with? That can wait. He pushes everything aside to be with you, and he hopes that the reason you aren't crying isn't somehow his fault.

He asks you wants wrong and if you're okay. Are you hurt anywhere? Is there someone he needs to pick a fight with? Well, maybe he won't pick a fight, but he'll definitely be mad at the person who made you cry—if it, in fact, was a person that made you cry.

If you don't want to talk, that's totally fine by him. He knows just as well as anyone that sometimes you just don't feel like telling people what you're upset about. He absolutely doesn't push either, he wouldn't wanna make you cry more and make things worse.

There's a chance he'll have candy or some sweets on him—perfect for snacking on throughout the day—and share some with you if you want! Doesn't matter which one you take, honestly. Even if it's his favourite one, he'll keep quiet because he knows you probably need it more than he does. Whatever you want, he's going to make you happy again if it's the last thing he does! Or at least until you've calmed down.

"Summoner, Summoner! Are you okay?! No one hurt you or anything, right? If you need anything just say the word!"

Alpheratz

He might actually be sleeping when he wakes up and gets a weird feeling; he can't help but feel like something is off. When he sees you and notices the tears falling from your eyes, his heart feels like it's being toyed with.

Alpheratz asks you what happened first, but quickly follows up to ask if you're okay too. He sort of stands there awkwardly and hopes that you're okay with explaining why you're in such a state, or else he isn't sure what he's supposed to do. He isn't the best at comforting people, but he'll try.

If you don't want to talk about it, he's 100% okay with that. He gets it, sometimes you're just not ready or don't feel like it. If you want a distraction, he'll probably try to think up something. Maybe going out for a walk, or maybe it's sleeping it off.

If someone else is making you sad and you tell him, chances are that person won't be making you sad in the future anymore. He might not say it gently, but seeing you down leaves his sleep schedule a little messed up; and of course he's only doing this so you don't get bothered and neither does he. Yeah, that's definitely the only reason.

"I'm no good at cheering people up, but I guess if it's bothering you so much, might as well tell someone, right? No pressure."

Spica

Spica's attention is on you as soon as he sees tears on your face. It's almost as if an alarm has set off in him; something is wrong because you are upset. He tells you to calm yourself and reminds you to breathe if you're crying too hard. He makes sure you're alright physically while he asks why you're crying.

Did someone make you cry? Did something happen? Are you homesick? Despite wanting to ask, he refrains from questioning further in case it makes you overwhelmed. He may sit you down if you're somewhere where that's possible and speak to you in a calm manner, if not a little softer.

Whatever you need, he will try his best to help you feel better. If a distraction is what you want, Spica will gladly help with that, though his approach is more on the productive side of things. He may suggest accompanying him to finish some errands or get some work done quietly together in the committee room or a library.

He lets you know that you're safe and secure, that he'll make sure nothing makes you upset while he's with you. Even if he's not with you, he takes care in paying more attention to your needs. At the end of the day, Spica will offer you his time, because that's one of the only ways he knows for sure that he can do to help you. He can be very busy, but he'll push all other priorities to the side if it means making you feel better.

"If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to tell me, Summoner. Your emotional well-being is just as important as your physical

Sirius

Even if you hide away somewhere, Sirius might have an idea of where to find you. Something's wrong and he can almost feel it like uncomfortably warm air. It almost pains him to see you like that, and a part of him wonders if he might be the one to blame. Did he do something you didn't like?

Whatever the case, he strides up to you casually, if not with a brisk hint of surprise. He asks you why you're crying, his brows mildly raised. You can tell him, or not. He doesn't care too much... Or maybe he does and he's just downplaying how much he cares. He's a good listener and will lend an ear even if you think it's not a big deal.

Want a distraction? Sirius is great at that. If you want someone to console you, he can do that too... though it might be a little back-handed from Sirius. He'll try to be nice but he also can't resist a quick comment. Nothing too mean though, don't fret. He knows when to not push it too far.

If, in the end, all you want to do is do nothing, Sirius will gladly do nothing with you, too. Stars, he might even encourage it, and tease you about how your tears might be a ploy to get him to spend time with you. It's not, though, he knows. But he doesn't mind getting jabbed or lightly pushed by you if it means you stop crying.

"No need to tell me what's wrong, Summoner, though I'm all ears if you want to tell me~ Shall I accompany you for a while?"

Vega

Once Vega sees your face, it's all he needs to come rushing towards you. Similarly to Spica, he checks if you're well physically. If anyone hurt you, they won't be getting off scot-free. He almost doesn't hold back with the questions though. He wants to know who or what made you cry like this right away.

No matter how big or small it is, it still matters to Vega. It clearly matters to you if it made you cry, so he'll take whatever you have to say seriously. He'll insist that whatever you're crying about, it's not silly, it's not ridiculous, it's not stupid. Even if it is small and he can't relate, he'll still sympathize with you to the best of his ability.

He's a wonderful listener, and especially patient if it's you. He'll likely do almost anything you want, if that's what you wish. If you want, he can get you your favourite snack or perhaps there's a book in the library you like. Do you want to take a walk outside in the courtyard? See flowers in the greenhouse? Whatever you want, Vega may just do it. He does have his limits though, don't tease him too much... but chances are, he'll let it slide.

He'll remember whatever it is that made you cry if you tell him, or if he finds out by some other means. And he'll do whatever it takes to prevent it as well. Seeing you cry is like a punch in the gut; a smile suits you much better than a tear streaked face.

"Summoner, what happened? Are you hurt? If so, I... Here, use this handkerchief. No, it's okay, I don't mind. May I stay by your side for now?"

[broadwaybalogna]

zutara prompt for you — “ why didn’t you tell me you got hurt. I could have helped you—.”

Awwwwww cute!!!

Here ya go!

-

Katara whined as she hugged her stomach in the large bed she laid down in. She continued to move from position to position in order to find some form of peace for her body to no avail. Tears pricked at the sides of her eyes as she continued to struggle through her cramps.

Katara got her first period when she was twelve in the southern water tribe. Being one of the few women in the tribe meant little menstrual products for her as well, so she was forced to make do with what little she had. Her cramps only got worse with time, however, as her body continued to grow. She’d spend days in her room in the Fire Lord’s palace just trying to find a few hours of comfort.

It had been five years since her first period, and she wanted to rip her uterus out.

She found a bathroom in a nearby corridor and slipped in so she could lay on the floor. Fire Nation palaces had nice specious bathrooms that were perfect for laying down on and contemplating one’s life. Katara groaned.

Katara was one of few women Zuko knew, and she honestly doubted he had ever stayed with any of them long enough to witness their menstrual cycle. The only other woman in the castle that they both interacted with was Azula, who Katara’s period quickly synced up to.

After a few minutes of laying on the floor, she picked herself up and walked back to her room. Azula was lucky in that her cramps were nearly nonexistent.

Katara continued to roll in her bed until a knock echoed through the room. Katara would have politely asked the person to leave, but she was too uncomfortable and exhausted to make any more than a loud hum escape her mouth.

“Katara?” She heard Zuko say as he entered the room. Katara was curled up in the bed with the blanket thrown onto the floor, it was too uncomfortably hot.

Upon taking in the state of Katara’s room, he paused. There were a few moments of silence between the two, but Katara was far more focused on her internal pain than her awkward encounter.

Zuko let out a sigh then spoke again, “Azula said I might find you like this.”

Katara groaned, of course Azula wanted to make her brother walk in on her while she was at her worst. Average sibling activities.

“Are you… okay?” He asked. Of course it wasn’t odd for Katara to take a break for four to seven days of each month from her duties as an ambassador, but she never exactly made it well known that it was because she could barely stand without keeling over and nearly throwing up out of pain.

“No,” she said as deadpanned as possible, but it came off more as a whine, if anything.

“You know I- I can help you,” he finally said after more awkward silence. This made Katara turn to face him. What was he getting on about?

“How?” She asked as genuenly as possible.

“Well, I- uh- talked with Azula about…” he paused to imply ‘period’. Katara couldn’t care less. She rolled her eyes. “She said that heat helps,” he finally spilled. This made Katara cock an eyebrow.

She took a deep breath. “You do know where it is that the cramps are, right?” She asked, knowing that if Zuko knew he would never have suggested this in the first place.

“Yes,” he clarified, which took Katara by surprise.

She considered her options. She could either wait for the pain to subside (which could take anywhere between a minute and a few hours) or she could let Zuko grant her comfort, albeit a little odd. She looked over at Zuko. His eyebrows were knitted together like he actually cared about her and her comfort, and he eyed the lower half of her abdomen where her pain centered.

“Okay,” she finally decided with a sharp nod.

Zuko sat down beside where Katara was laying and hovered his hand over where her uterus was.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she explained. “But if you don’t, I’d prefer to know now.”

“No- it’s fine,” he interjected. He softly laid his hand against her stomach and Katara could feel the small wave of heat begin to pool around her. The heat was more comfortable than anything she had tried before, and she was quick to relax into his touch.

While the warmth didn’t alleviate all pain, it certainly helped and she let out a long pent of sigh of relief.

After a few seconds, she took Zuko’s hand in her own and moved it lower down her abdomen. “Lower,” was all she had to say and Zuko easily complied.

Katara closed her eyes at the her newfound relief, she hadn’t felt this way in what felt like years. She felt herself slowly begin to drift to sleep, and she did nothing to stop her body from accepting it.

-

When Katara awoke, Zuko was laying next to her, also asleep, and with his hand still over her uterus. He was in a slightly awkward position which made her appreciate him even more.

Next time she felt this way, she would be sure to grab the firebender as soon as possible.

[obeymefanfiction]

Falling for you: Part 6

Obey Me! Fanfiction Masterlist Featuring: Lucifer, Diavolo, Female Reader Word Count: 1000 Warnings: Angst Disclaimer: Obey Me! Characters belong to Cybird Diavolo knew he had a visitor the moment he arrived back at his castle. When he entered his private study, Lucifer was leaning against the far wall looking exasperated.  "You said you'd explain why I needed to come back to the devildom as soon as possible. I assume it has something to do with this curse you've put on yourself?" Lucifer waved at the hourglass that still sat next to the door. "It never hurts to be cautious. Even with my abilities being limited by the curse I should be able to handle most of my responsibilities." "And the ones you can't?" Lucifer raised a brow.

"For those I may need to depend on you, old friend. I'm sorry." Lord Diavolo's expression revealed his regret and Lucifer sighed. 

"I realize she is endearing for a human, but did you really need to go this far?" Lucifer rubbed two fingers horizontally across his brow with a wince, as though sensing an oncoming headache.   Diavolo sighed and sat down at his desk tapping out an irregular rhythm on the surface. Finally, he glanced up at his friend and asked, "Lucifer… do you remember the last time I lost control of myself?" Lucifer shrugged. "That was a really long time—" then he broke off looking considerably more alarmed. "Is that why you did this?" He asked sounding far more hesitant. "Yes… because I refuse to harm her. I can't avoid that without this." He waved at the hourglass. "I only hope it will give us enough time for her to choose. Choice is so important to humans after all."  Diavolo sighed looking weary. Even with the curse holding him back it was not easy for him to resist the temptation you represented to him. "When she said you had given her time, I knew. No other demon could offer her that." Lucifer sighed. "What will you do if she chooses not to accept you?" "I see only two possibilities if that happens. The first, of course is to send her home." It would be the safest. Disappointing, however, because it may reflect badly on the exchange program. Yet her positive experience so far may be enough to counteract that.” "And the second?" Lucifer asked looking wary again. "You." Diavolo sighed, "It would take nothing less than a mark from you to keep her from me." Lucifer remained silent and absolutely still.  "If she chose to stay, she must accept that. Whether or not you form a pact or claim her completely… o-or simply mark her? That would be between the two of you. But you are the only one who can grant her wish to stay if that is indeed what she wants." His voice was laced with regret. Unfortunately, returning to how things once were was no longer an option. That wasn’t how demons and temptation worked. Not even for him. Diavolo ran an agitated hand through his hair before meeting Lucifer's tumultuous gaze. "I'm so sorry for placing you in this position. I know you care about her a great deal. I would have chosen another path if it was possible."

"You don't owe me an apology Lord Diavolo. You've done so much more to protect her than she may ever know. I agree to explain the mark and her choices when the hourglass grows empty."  "Then you do not see her accepting me?" He asked with a pained smile. "My responsibility to her is what happens if she does not." Lucifer gave him a tempered smile of his own. "Your responsibility is to make her ridiculously happy if she does.” Diavolo said nothing. Hope was a double-edged sword and he couldn’t allow it to distract him. He simply needed to focus on you, and what you wanted. “As far as what I believe? When it comes to her, I've learned to expect the unexpected. Yet, I was still far from prepared for this." Lucifer chuckled. Diavolo nodded and Lucifer excused himself. The Lord of the devildom still sat for some time watching the sand slip away through the hourglass. Wishing to feel the familiar call of magic that would call him to you. After all, he had so little time to persuade you to accept him. So little time to enjoy this… before it might shatter and disappeared forever.

[amberlynnmurdock]

Blind Faith (Ch. 11)

Chapter Eleven: Logic Games

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You start noticing things about Matt you haven't noticed before. Nelson & Murdock receives an invitation to the annual Bar Dinner at the New York Courthouse.

A/N: Here's the next update! This chapter really sets the plot of the story. I guess this is the start of "Act 2." I can't wait to read what you all think is going to happen. AHHH. So much more to come! Enjoy!! :)

TAGS: @starry-night-20 @sumsytee @queerqueenlynn @mattmurdocksstarlight @marvelcinematiquniverse 

AO3 Link

Hell’s Kitchen 

Another few weeks have gone by without seeing him. 

You didn’t dare think of his name, whomever he was. It wasn’t fair you gave him all that time, all that attention, all that affection, just for him to take it for granted and hurt you the way he did. Never again. You solidified it by throwing his burner phone in your apartment dumpster. You really didn’t need him to save you anymore. 

At least the last few weeks have been more productive than ever. Instead of going out, you stayed in. You enjoyed the quiet in the apartment. It was just you, your LSAT textbook, and your corner desk that gave you a view of the city. If he ever crossed your mind, it was only for a second. A second that made your heart feel like it weighed a thousand pounds. And the moment he left your mind, the weight was gone. 

Well, it was the summer of falling in love with vigilantes, you’d say. A summer you’d never forget—a story you’d be passing down like an urban legend. No one knew of this but only you and him. 

Summer was almost at an end, but your studying wasn’t letting up. If anything, it only got more intense as each night went on. You fervently highlighted concepts of logic games, reading comprehension, and logical reasoning. You were on your second notebook now, a notebook filled with explanations of answers and helpful tips to keep in mind. It was satisfying to see how much you’ve gotten done. 

You snuck in a few studying sessions before work, too. You started getting to the office even earlier. It was easier to forget him when you weren’t at home. So being at the office was a helpful distraction. It helped you focus on things at hand, not things your mind sometimes betrayed you to think of. Instead of thinking of his hands on your waist, you felt how your office chair hugged your body when you leaned back. Instead of thinking of your lips on his, you felt your lips burn at your first sip of coffee. Instead of thinking of all the times you’ve waited for him on your rooftop, you waited for Matt’s arrival to join you in the office. 

And, maybe you never noticed this before, but you certainly were starting to now. One morning, Matt had come in shortly after you. You did your normal morning routine of fixing him up a cup of coffee, to which he politely declined. Slowly putting the cup back in its place, Matt walked by you in the kitchen, and you saw blood dripping down the side of his face. The gasp that left your mouth betrayed you. 

“What’s wrong?” Matt asked, his brows furrowed behind his dark red glasses. 

“I—you’re bleeding,” you said slowly, as you began to closely inspect his wound. It was coming from his temple, poorly covered by a thin bandage. You grabbed for a napkin and before dabbing his wound, you paused. 

“Can I help you clean it? It’s pretty gnarly. It might get on your shirt,” you offered in a small voice. “And you’ve got that hearing later today.” 

“Yeah,” Matt said after some hesitation.

You washed your hands before removing the small bandage from his right temple. Using the napkin, you dabbed at his wound gently—you couldn’t help but wonder how on earth he hurt himself like this. Then again, he was blind…but you didn’t want to offend him. 

“How’d you get this?” You asked as casually as you could. 

“I bent down to get something in my bathroom cabinet,” Matt explained, “I hit my head on the door. I must’ve missed when putting my bandage on. Y’know,” he shrugged sheepishly. You dabbed his wound and tried to ignore the small space between you and your boss. He leaned on the counter with his left hand, his head tilted in the dimly lit kitchen for you to have access to his wound. You were so close, you could smell a hint of his cologne. 

You found a first aid kit that was nearly out of bandaids in the kitchen. Noted. You would pick some up along with coffee and plates tomorrow. 

“I don’t mean for you to take this the wrong way, but have you ever considered a guide dog?” You asked. You placed a brand new bandage that completely covered his wound. Crumpled the bloody napkin and threw it in the trash. Matt let out a soft chuckle. 

“You’re not the first who’s suggested that,” Matt answered. “I don’t think I could handle a dog. I get by on my own fine, save for a few head bumps.” 

“True,” you felt obliged to agree. “Well, you’re all set. Hopefully, the bandaid lasts all day. If not, I can play Nurse again.” Play nurse. That sounded so wrong, you thought. Dammit. 

Matt grinned, tapping his covered wound. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” you said. Matt cleared his throat and left the kitchen for his office. You found your place in your seat, closed your LSAT textbook, and began to work on files for Nelson & Murdock. 

Later in the day, before Matt’s hearing, you changed his bandaid again, in his office. Door closed. Karen was on the phone with someone in the conference room and Foggy was locked in his office writing a brief. 

You changed Matt’s bandaid. He was silent as he sat in his chair, letting you clean his wound again. You had nothing to say. But you couldn’t shake the strange feeling you got when you noticed how pained he looked, even behind his dark red glasses. It wasn’t as bloody anymore; it shouldn’t hurt anymore. But you were close enough to see how hurt he looked. Jaw clenched, brows furrowed, eyes closed. He didn’t say anything. Did it hurt that bad? 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

Another day in the week, you were really starting to go through the motions of forgetting about him. It was so hard to forget how he made you feel at night. Not just the way he pleased you, but the way he made you feel safe. How you felt so much yourself around him, a stranger in the night. Except he didn’t feel like a stranger at all. How could you feel so passionately for someone whose identity you didn’t know? 

These thoughts plagued your mind; it was hard to detach emotionally. Emily was a psychology major. What was it she said about physical and emotional attachments? It took longer for emotional attachments to go away? Well, it’s only been a month now. August was upon the city. And still, you thought of the emotions he stirred in you. 

Instead of leaving the office at five, like everyone else, you asked if it was okay for you to study for the LSAT in the conference room after hours. 

“Are you sure?” Foggy asked, scrunching his nose. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I can’t imagine being stuck in the office for more than eight hours.” 

“I want to,” you said, “the conference table is big enough for my books. Plus, it’s Friday night, and my roommates will be loud before they head out.” 

“As long as you feel safe,” Karen added. “Text us if you need anything. It can get pretty dark in this area.”

“I’ll be fine.” An image of him flashed in your mind. You didn’t need him anymore. You never did. 

“I’ll be staying late,” Matt interjected, coming out of his office. “I have a few files to catch up on.”

Karen exhaled a sigh of relief. You appreciated how concerned she was for your safety. “Okay. Okay, good.” After working here for a few months, you understood Karen has probably seen the worst of this city in ways you can’t even imagine. 

“Great! Well, I guess Josie’s is off the books tonight. Unless you guys wanted to meet us in an hour or so?” Foggy asked. 

“Maybe,” you were open to the idea. “Let me know where you are in two hours. And hopefully, I get enough studying in so I don’t feel guilty.” 

“Awesome! Hopefully, we’ll see you later.”

Karen and Foggy left, and Matt returned to his office. You sat at the conference table for a while, completely immersed in your textbook. Your mind felt clear and focused as you took notes and answered practice problems. Copying down explanations, reading passages carefully. 

A knock came on the conference door. Of course, it was Matt. 

“Hey,” he greeted quietly. “How’s studying going?” 

“Good,” you answered, “I’m starting to get the hang of it all. Taking practice tests. Logic games are a little tricky.”

Matt smiled, “Logic games were my favorite part of the test.” 

“It’s possible to have a favorite part?” You asked incredulously. Matt laughed. 

“Sometimes, it’s not about the analysis of the test, but your mindset going into it. Don’t treat it like something you have to do; treat it like a hobby.”

“Interesting,” you thought aloud. “Next study session, I’ll have to think of it that way. I don’t want to get burned out.” 

“Definitely don’t get burned out,” Matt agreed. “You’ll need to be sharp on test day.” 

“I know,” you said, “I’m finding a balance.” He leaned against the wall in the conference room, hands in his pockets. Your eyes trailed down to his hands. You saw how red his knuckles were. Bruised, basically. 

“Did you fall, or hurt yourself again?” You asked him. Caught off guard, Matt looked confused. “Your knuckles,” you added. 

“Oh,” Matt took his hands of out his pockets and kept them behind his back. “You know me.” 

You worried, for some reason. But you didn’t press the situation. 

“You know, I wouldn’t mind helping you with any LSAT studying,” Matt offered, “if you wanted.” 

“I’d like that,” you answered, your mind trailing off from his red knuckles. “I’ll use any help I can get. I don’t want to pay for any tutors.”

“I have some time now?” Matt asked. You thought for a moment. It’s been a while since you’ve done anything else but study, and Foggy’s offer of Josie’s was tempting. 

“Maybe we should meet them at Josie’s,” you suggested. “I could use a drink.” 

On your way to Josie’s, you walked with Matt, his hand gently on your elbow, cane tapping in front of him. You couldn’t take your eyes off his red knuckles the whole time. 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

The following Monday, Foggy got the mail from the box outside. He flipped through the envelopes: bill, bill, Super Lawyers magazine, bill, and then suddenly, a large, tapered envelope with a gold stamp appeared in the bunch. It was from the New York Courthouse. Foggy ripped open the envelope and pulled out another tapered paper, with cursive writing and a gold trim. 

The New York Courthouse cordially invites Nelson & Murdock to the Bar Dinner. Please visit us on Friday, August 18th, promptly at 7 PM. Join us for a four-course meal and open bar. Please RSVP by the end of the week, and who will be joining us from your law firm. Maximum two guests. 

“Matt! Matt!” Foggy came running into Matt’s office, shutting the door behind him. “We got invited!” 

“We? For what? Is someone getting married?” Matt asked brows scrunched, one earplug in his ear.

Foggy sighed, “No, you idiot, to the Bar dinner! Our first invite!” Foggy read the invite aloud, and his face dropped when he realized the date. 

“Oh no,” Foggy said, “it’s on the 18th. I’m going to a wedding. Marci’s cousin—damn it! I’ll be gone the whole weekend. Maybe Karen can—“

“The 18th? Karen’s on PTO. Visiting her father in Vermont,” Matt remembered. “There’s always next year, Fog.” 

“No, Matt—we have to go this year. At least, one of us! And it’s got to be you,” Foggy demanded. “We need someone to represent us!” 

“I thought we didn’t care about these showy things,” Matt argued, “they’re filled with nothing but a bunch of pretentious Harvard grads who only care about rubbing shoulders and money.” 

“That’s true but—can’t we just play the part? For one night? Get some recognition, show these chummy lawyers what real justice is!” 

“By eating fancy dinners and getting drunk?” Matt scoffed. “Come on, Fog. It’s not that important.” 

“Well then, at least take advantage of the free food and make fun of the chummy lawyers. Come on, Matt. Please go. Hey! Take __, too! She would love that, don’t you think?” 

Matt’s stomach twisted at the mention of you, the idea of bringing you to a fancy Bar dinner, as his date. It’s been hard enough on Matt to pretend he doesn’t love you, doesn’t care about you like that in the office—to also go to an intimate Bar dinner with you? And pretend again? 

“Oh, Foggy,” Matt took his earbud out of his ear, took his glasses off and rubbed his face. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?” Foggy questioned, “It would be a great experience for her. Something fun. Get all dressed up, make connections.”

“Make connections with the same chummy lawyers we just talked about.” 

“Not all of them are bad. HC&B will be there, I’m sure of it.” 

“Wouldn’t it be weird, me bringing her as my…as my date?” 

“Matt, why are you even thinking like that? It’s for two associates from every firm. It’ll be coworkers, it won’t look weird.”

Matt sighed, his gaze falling short. “If she wants to go, I’ll go.” 

“I’ll ask her,” Foggy quickly said. “Or—actually, you should. Take her under your wing.” 

“I’ll ask her at the end of the day,” Matt said lowly, regretfully.

Foggy clapped his hands, “I’m counting on you, buddy. It’ll be a good time. Make us look good.” 

Matt forced a laugh as Foggy dropped the invitation on his desk. Matt ran his fingers over the texture of the paper and felt the cursive letters. He flipped the paper and sighed. It wasn’t getting any easier, working with you, talking with you. He was pretending all over again. 

⠋⠁⠊⠞⠓

You and Matt stayed after hours again. Matt wasn’t really working, though—he was building the courage to ask you about the Bar dinner. As you wrote fervently in your notebook, studying the LSAT, Matt listened to you from his office. You whispered to yourself the questions, thought out the answers. Your heartbeat was steady. Calm. It reminded him of how you felt in his arms on your rooftop, safe. Before things went badly. 

Ever since, Matt’s completely thrown himself into his work—and not his lawyer work, but his other work. He went out nearly every night and found crime to stop, at the expense of his body. So much, you were starting to notice his bruises and wounds. When you cleaned his wound that one morning, he told himself he shouldn’t let you help him. And it was worse when you actually touched him. Your touch that transported him back to your roof, when you’d let him touch you all over. He craved your touch again. When you helped him again later that day, the thought was so painful, he had to keep quiet. Keep to himself. Not let you know how your touch had an effect on him. 

Matt entered the conference room, knocked on the door as he usually did. You paused your writing. By the sound of your voice, he could tell you were smiling at him. A smile he can only imagine. 

“Hey,” you greeted him. “Treating this like a hobby.” You said in reference to his advice last week. Matt laughed. 

“Good, good. I still want to help you study, but you seemed pretty focused.” 

“Yeah," you said sheepishly, “I mean, if you want to join me now.” 

Matt felt the envelope in his back pocket crinkle. It could wait. Matt reached out in front of him to feel for the desk. He sat in the chair next to you, his knee accidentally nudging yours—you were that close. 

“Tell me what you’re working on,” Matt said. 

Logic games, of course. You read through the problems and explained your answers to him. Matt felt like he was half there, and the other half he was thinking of all the hurtful things he’s done to you, as your savior. Talking to you like you didn’t exile him a while ago was hard. It was like talking with lead, talking with a bitter taste in his mouth. He pushed these thoughts away, explained his view on certain logic game problems. It was a good distraction, but not long enough. Your laugh in his ears, your scent in his nose, your presence next to him—all terrible and lovely reminders of what he could’ve had with you if he’d just been honest. 

Matt left the conference room as you began to pack your things. He still hasn’t asked you about the Bar dinner. 

When he exited his office, you nearly ran into him as you walked toward him. Your chests collided. Matt’s heart pounded as he fought the urge to pull you in close like that. 

“Oh,” you jumped, “I’m sorry. I should’ve just waited by the front door.” 

“No, no,” he said, “It’s okay.” He didn’t change the distance between you both, which was very close. Matt felt the envelope in his pocket. “Did you need something?” 

“No, I just wanted to wait for you,” you said laughing softly. 

“Oh,” Matt smiled, “okay. Well, I actually had a question for you.” He reached for the envelope in his back pocket and held it up upside down. You gently took the paper from his hands and read the invitation. 

“I was wondering if you’d be interested in going,” Matt said, “with me. Foggy will be out of town and Karen’s on PTO. And he really, really wants our firm to be represented.” 

“Wow,” you said in slight shock, “this is pretty legit. I’m allowed to go?” 

Matt cocked his head and made a “why not” face. “If you want.” 

“Definitely,” you said, holding the invitation in amazement. “I guess I’ll have to get a fancy dress.” 

“I’ll have to rent a tux,” Matt chuckled. “Good. Then it’s a date. Well, you know—not a date, but—“

“I know, Matt,” you said softly. His gaze was down, his expression unreadable behind his dark red glasses. You felt the urge to take them off. 

He was still standing close to you, but you felt an invisible buffer of tension between your chests. An undeniable tension you wanted to get out of immediately—not because you were scared, but because you were curious—which you thought was worse. You swallowed hard. A warmth spread in your stomach. 

“We should get going, right?” Matt broke the silence. You backed away as he grabbed for his coat on the hanger. 

“Right,” you agreed. 

You and Matt walked outside, his hand on your elbow. When you reached the corner of the street, you turned to face him. You found he was already gazing in your direction, behind his dark red glasses. 

“Well,” you began, “get home safe, Matt. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

“Be safe,” Matt added, holding onto your elbow as you made an attempt to walk away. You gladly fell back in his grasp. Matt’s hand let go of your elbow. His fingers gently traced the length of your forearm, fingertips stopping at your wrist. Your heart fluttered, feeling his fingertips dangerously close to your hand. Matt pulled away, and offered a smile. 

“I will,” you broke the silence, still feeling his soft touch. Like his touch, your thoughts lingered on the moment for the rest of the night. 

[lynn-tged-posting]

tged webtoon ep 160 spoilers and thoughts that i am a tad bit late on (sorry abt that) below the cut

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bugs when you lift a rock

I REALLY REALLY LIKED THIS EP IT WAS SUPER COOL AND THE BALANCE BETWEEN THE GAGS AND THE COOL PANELS WAS GREAT

i fucking love . javier being smug so so much THIS WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY HAHAAHAHHAA bud knows his worth fr he really looks like an angel

they're so stupid /aff what's wrong with them

AND RAPHAEL'S WEAPON REVEAL. HOLY FUCKING SHIT.

I LOVE LOVE LOVE GIGANTIC WEAPONRY. IT'S MY FAVORITE THING EVER WHEN WEAPONS OF CHOICE ARE ABSURDLY HUGE AND THIS REALLY REALLY WINS THAT. ALSO I AM TERRIFIED FOR THEM BECAUSE OH MY GOD THIS LOOKS SCARY but also it having a very normal Office Product Name is HILARIOUS LOL yes the multipurpose business hammer. for business. it's big but don't worry about it .

we also have a date for when the great war in the mythical age occurred! i haven't quite started a whole Lorasia Timeline thing yet but thisll be useful for future reference i think

plus plus, the way the jewel of truth tells the truth,,, is by bypassing the heavenly realms rules and accessing something beyond that. it could be related to the system that lloyd is using? or when javier became a grandmaster how his mana changed to something beyond the laws of causality , or whatever that was. might be related!!!

THE PRAYER GAG WAS FUNNY BUT ALSO MADE MY HEART ACHE BECAUSE- LIKE OKAY THE "also i want to live life selfishly and freely in retirement" IS SO REAL OF HIM BUT ALSO

i really truly believe that this second panel is how he really truly feels. living like a bum aside, lloyd has always put others first, he's always protected other people before himself. lloyd also tends to always try and take things into his own hands, taking the reins and pulling things into his control, so that he can achieve this unknowingly noble goal of protecting those close to him.

it makes the fact that the moment he heard about making a prayer he does it IMMEDIATELY, so so so heartache to me; maybe i'm overanalyzing/overthinking these things, but as someone who doesn't quite believe in higher power and also as someone with a lot of easily-hurtable pride:

do you realize what it takes to fall to your knees, to beg and to pray to be heard, to be at the mercy of someone else, for something you want?

that HURTS a LOT. seeing lloyd immediately bow his head and pray like this. he's desperate not to lose it all - he can't, not when the goal is so close - and fighting the angel really isnt smth they should do at all bc people would get hurt. and so he's on his knees for someone else to grant that privilege of building this jewel of truth... it could be my perspective / feelings influencing how i perceive this ofc, maybe it's really not that deep, but it Hurt me and i felt the need to explain why LMFAO

anyway, me inflicting psychic damage on myself aside, JAVIER VS RAPHAEL!!! THEIR WHOLE FIGHT IS SO SO COOL AND JAVIER LOOKS FUCKING INSANE /POS

the sheer power of their collisions/parrying sending REVERBERATIONS LIKE THAT is so fucking CRAZY javier has grown so so strong and the fact that he's sparring w an ANGEL is so fucking COOL GOD THIS IS SO COOL

AND THE CLOSEUPS ON JAVIERS FACE TOO THEY MAKE ME INSANE LIKE WHAT THE SHIT HE'S SO FUCKING COOL

LIKE NO FUCKING WONDER HE WAS THE MAIN CHARACTER OF TKOBAI HE LOOKS AND ACTS THE PART SO SO WELL HE'S SO MAIN CHARACTER SHAKES HIM AROUND HE'S SO COOL

poor lloyd tho the sounds of the fight fucking him up bc of the swordmaster syndrome RIP though it does look like he's handling it better than before!

there's still a lot of push and blur bc of the overwhelming sounds but it feels less chaotic and messy than the panels from last ep, like it looks more controlled i think? like the lineart looks much more stable here, so it seems like the meditation/training helped!!!

ALSO ALSO SOLITAS YAYAYAYAYAYY ITS MY BOY MY FAVORITE SIDE CHAR the mid-transformation panels are so so cool!!! so many awesome things this week heehee

AND VERKIS YAYYY YAYAYAYAYY honestly yeah it tracks that the three biggest powers on lorasia fighting at all would just. fuck up the world good thing he stopped solitas,,, even if solitas doesnt know who he is HAHAHA LMFAOOO "... who are you?" HAHAHA

OH AND BACK TO THE FIGHT RAPHAEL'S HALO THAT'S SUCH A COOL MECHANIC

that's so cool that the halo can be used defensively like this!!! and it stands just fine after one of javier's strikes too that's so crazy

it makes a lot of design sense too w the way he's dressed, and also with the sheer SIZE of his weapon; you'd think that he'd have like, armor or something if he was going somewhere expecting a fight, but all he's wearing is a nice clean white suit. but that's cause the halo does all the defense work for him!!! and with the weapon too like, if you need to suddenly defend but you're in the middle of an attack and unable to shift your momentum, the halo's got you covered! it'd be hellish trying to stop your trajectory with the swing of a hammer THAT large, it looks like its made of straight up metal/steel, so when you swing you HAVE to follow through. u wouldn't be able to really defend with it

im just saying all the same stuff at this point but GOD THIS IS COOL AND CLEAN HALO MECHANICS I LIKE IT A LOT

the effects in general are just SOOOO awesome in this episode im really happy about that heehee, the artist rlly popped off!!

AND FINALLY,,, LLOYD PREPARES TO SING,,,

THE FUCKING DEMON SHAPE IN THE SHADOW BEHIND HIM OH MY GODDD HAHAHAAA

see like. i'm genuinely wondering whether or not this'll work or if it'll like, cancel out like PEMDAS, cause like raphael would be considered a holy creature, right? and lloyd's singing is considered demonic, and so those two powers are opposites, so would it be like neutralized overall?? like would raphael just lose his power, or maybe lose control of his halo, or would he actually take damage from his singing?

sorry that's really silly HAHA but i thought it'd be funny to think about, im really excited to see where this fight goes!!!! i really hope we get more cool moments this is so sick i'm so excited!!!!

okay okay thats it hehe see y'all next week (as in later this week lmfao)

[echo-goes-mmm]

Divine Intervention AU #5

Masterpost

Previous

Next

Warnings: rape mention

This wasn’t the first time Ambrose wanted to tear his hair out and scream “why are you like this?” to humans, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Seriously, what the fuck? Ambrose had spats with other gods, sure. And sometimes they got bloody. But gods don’t die. 

Humans killed each other all the time and worse! He thought it would be the other way around honestly. A god could recover from literally anything, so who cared? Humans were fragile and knew it, you’d think they wouldn’t kill each other out of solidarity.

Ambrose couldn’t imagine going without one of his kin. There were so few of them; all precious in his heart (even when one was being an ass). 

Not to imply he didn’t like mortals. Hannah was great! Ambrose was fond of all his priests, and most worshippers. Children were sweet little gremlins and he loved spoiling them. Maybe he granted too many wishes, but he couldn’t say no if a little kid wanted a little luck on their math exam. Or if a child wanted a bully to get in trouble. 

Or if a mortal wanted to be his pet, apparently.

Some of his kin had human lovers. Ambrose could see the appeal, but every time one of them died, or refused immortality, he could see the grief etched into their faces. He’d much rather mess around with his fellow gods than lose a loved one forever. 

He didn’t have much of a choice, now. What would happen to Elliot if he refused him? He’d go right back into slavery, tortured, probably raped based on how lewdly they dressed him, and eventually die in pain. 

Ambrose could deal with the heartbreak if it meant the poor thing was safe. He vanished them out of the temple and into the divine realm. Elliot stumbled when they landed. Ambrose grasped his arm to keep him from falling.

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“Sorry about that, love. It takes some getting used to.” Elliot’s vision swam and he stumbled, but Master caught him. After a moment, his head settled enough to take a look around.

The temple was gone. The weather had changed from cloudy to a perfectly warm sunny day, and they stood in the prettiest courtyard Elliot had ever seen. There were so many flowers and hedges, butterflies, statues of animals, and fountains.

But the best part was a koi pond in the center, full of shimmering fish in reds, oranges, and white. 

Ambrose led him to one of the doorways surrounding the courtyard. He pushed the velvet curtain aside, revealing an equally beautiful bedroom.

“The other doorways lead to other gods’ rooms,” explained Ambrose. “I’d rather you didn’t go in without being invited. They won’t hurt you, but they won’t be happy with it.”

“I understand, Master.” Elliot wasn’t a worshiper. He’d never been to a temple before today, and no one bothered explaining the gods to him. He wasn’t even sure what Ambrose was a god of. What were the other gods like? Elliot wasn’t keen on finding out.

Ambrose opened a door that apparently went to some kind of walk-in closet. He beckoned him in. 

“I’ll move some of this over for you, so you can have your own shelves. What would you like to wear? I can conjure more things for myself, so pick out what you’d like for today. I’m not going to parade you around practically naked.”

Elliot didn’t like the silks either. They were sheer, and didn’t even wrap all the way around his hips. He considered the clothes in front of him. There was a nice, plain cotton skirt in cream he liked. And a soft long-sleeved green shirt. They fit perfectly, despite how much bigger Ambrose was to him. They were probably magic. The shirt brushed against his freshly pierced ears and he winced.

“Master… May I take off the earrings?”

“Of course, pet. Don’t wear anything you don't want to.” Ambrose helped him take them off. “And you can wear anything you like. I’ll get it for you if I don’t already have it.”

There was something Elliot wanted. But he held his tongue. A collar was for wanted pets, and Ambrose hadn’t wanted him. Master was angry that he was stuck with Elliot, so unfortunately a nice collar was out of the question. He just hoped the other gods wouldn’t take it as a sign he was up for grabs.

Ambrose let him wash the makeup off his face. Even the bathroom was amazing. Hot water on demand and a huge tub that could fit five. 

Master had work to do, and disappeared behind another doorway draped with fabric with instructions to call if Elliot needed him.

He decided to watch the fish in the pond while he waited for Ambrose. Maybe he could earn a collar if he was good. He’d be the perfect pet for his Master.

“Well hello,” said a voice behind him. “Who are you?”

taglist: @cupcakes-and-pain @secretwhumplair @paintedpigeon1 @whump-blog @whump-em @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @starfields08000 @littlespacecastle

[xpao-bearx]

Okay S O--

I promise I'm updating my Moon Knight fic (Like A Virgin), but this is an idea that's been nagging me like Khonshu for a while now and I've finally decided to share it! But please keep in mind that it's just what it is: an IDEA. So I'm sorry if this sounds a bit messy/incomplete/all over the place (and there's a possibility that some things could be changed), it's literally just me rambling and I think it's actually a pretty interesting idea! And this turned out a lot longer than expected ;-;

At the moment, I also have no clue what I wanna do with this idea (or if I'll ever even do anything with it at all). But I, obviously, take all credit for this so please don't steal (or at least tell me if you got inspired and plan on writing a similar fic to this cuz I would totally read the F U C K out of it) 🙃

Anywhore--

So my idea is, basically, this: The story begins in Season 1 of Moon Knight and it mainly revolves around a romance with our one and only sassy baby boy, Steven Grant (and of course with some 🔥spahcy🔥 smut thrown in) ❤️

For Steven's love interest, I dunno if it would be an original female character OR a Fem!Reader situation going on, so for now we'll just refer to the love interest as MC (main character)

Now MC and Steven live in the same apartment building and are next door neighbours. They've also been dating for quite some time, but strangely enough Steven doesn't remember ever asking out MC.

Steven and MC are pretty much what is considered to be the "perfect couple". You can really tell that they love and care about each other a lot, but recently a rift has been slowly but surely growing between them. It all started when Steven has been mysteriously disappearing, sometimes for days on end with MC not being able to contact him and not knowing his whereabouts. It doesn't help that Steven doesn't know anything either which, obviously, is very concerning but MC really likes Steven a lot and (maybe quite foolishly) chooses to let the matter go. MC thinks that whatever the hell is going on, there is a good explanation for it and can be resolved once Steven is ready to open up.

But things only become much worse from there when Steven started to miss dates and other important events in his and MC's relationship. There are also some days when Steven acts very odd, being cold towards MC and acting as if he didn't even know who she is which obviously hurts MC especially when she continuously tries to help him and just wanting to figure out what's happening.

It eventually comes to a point when MC couldn't take it anymore so she goes to confront Steven about his behaviour. She is rightfully mad and confused, but nothing changes the fact that she's still very much in love with him and wants to properly work things out.

Once MC goes to Steven's apartment using the spare key she has, she is shocked to find a woman there (this is shortly after Steven is fired from the museum and he discovers Marc's things + the scarab in the storage locker). A frazzled Steven is shocked when MC suddenly appears, too, especially when the woman--Layla--introduced herself as his wife.

MC couldn't even say--do--anything, only staring at Steven with such hurt, angry, disappointed eyes before running out the door and out of the building. Steven chased after MC to explain, but he wasn't fast enough and the damage was already done.

Fast forward into Season 2 (I know at this point in time there's no S2 but just indulge me LMAO xD), MC is revealed to be living with a friend of hers as she picks up the pieces of her broken heart and starts anew.

But here's a lil twist: After the events with Harrow and the gods' Avatars died, MC became Hathor's (the goddess of love and music) new Avatar. I still don't know how this came to be, but just roll with meh 👍

While MC does her missions for Hathor, she eventually crosses paths once more with a familiar face who she is surprised to find out is Khonshu's (another god Hathor has quite smittenly told MC a lot about) Avatar--Steven.

Only... This isn't actually Steven, but a man who claims to be Jake Lockley.

Jake then explains to MC that Steven has dissociative identity disorder and that he, along with another man named Marc Spector, were alters in a system with Steven. Obviously this is a fucking LOT to take in, but MC eventually believes Jake and it made sense as to why Steven acted different sometimes when they were still together.

It is also revealed that Jake was the one who asked MC out and before Steven even knew her, Jake was the one who liked her first. But in an attempt to keep MC all for himself, Jake doesn't say the truth about Layla, of how she is now Marc's ex-wife since things never worked out with them and Steven is still very much hung up and in love with MC. So MC is kept in the dark about everything, still believing that Steven lied and cheated on her.

It is definitely weird meeting Jake, especially when Jake is extremely open about his feelings for MC and continuously attempts to go out of his way to find her and woo her (to no avail). MC knows that despite sharing the same body, Jake is an entirely different person. But it hurts a lot to just look at him since all she sees is Steven.

Overtime, however, MC gets over her heartbreak and realizes that she also has feelings for Jake and decides to say "fuck it" and take a leap of faith. At this point in time, MC is still under the impression that Steven is married to Layla (even though she hasn't seen the woman again at all). Deep down, MC knows that it's wrong, but she really does like Jake and believes that they both deserve to live their own lives and have a relationship with each other, even if it may be challenging to keep it a secret.

Once MC confesses to Jake, he realizes that what he's doing is wrong and if he truly cared about her, he needed to be honest. So Jake takes MC out on a date and plans on telling her everything, but before he had the chance to Steven suddenly gained control of the body!

Steven and Marc have both had suspicions for a while that there's a third alter and now it's been confirmed, along with the two of them being surprised and infuriated that Khonshu isn't actually out of their lives. But the more pressing matter is that MC was here, right now, with Steven, even though it shattered his heart to see her looking at him with those same pained, spiteful eyes that haunted him when she completely disappeared from his life.

But in a panicked rush, Steven told MC everything. Of how he didn't know he had DID before, about coming to terms with Marc's existence and Steven's own purpose, of how Layla was actually Marc's wife and they were now divorced, etc.

All of this was much harder to take in than when Jake told MC about their situation. Although, meeting Steven again made MC realize that she did still love him as much as she loved Jake. But that didn't erase the pain in MC's heart and while she was glad that the truth was finally out and all the misunderstandings were cleared up, MC just needed time. Time to heal, time to just really wrap her head around everything and determine where she stands in Steven and Jake's lives and where they stand in hers.

So that's what MC did. As much as Steven missed her, as desperate as he was to hug her and kiss her and just say that everything will be okay, he respected her decision. And he understood because he, too, needed time to get his and Marc's and Jake's shit together.

As time passes, MC and Steven meet again. And this time, they were ready to be together once more and for forever. Jake is there, too, and they all work together to navigate through their unconventional romance, but they don't worry too much because they know they will be alright. Because, just like the constellations in the night sky, their hearts had a special connection.

But as MC's love blooms with Steven and Jake, Marc is there. He's always there, like a dark shadow. Unlike the other two, Marc actively avoided MC and/or openly expressed his distaste. He didn't love Layla anymore, but the divorce really affected him as well as his perception on relationships. He just didn't want to suffer through that same heartbreak again, but this time he had a lot more to be protective over because he not only had to watch over himself, but also Steven and Jake. He absolutely would never forgive you and himself if you broke the boys' hearts.

Though let's just say, long story short, that you work things out with Marc and wormed your way into this lovable grump's heart 🥰

There are also two potential endings for this story. Ideally, of course, I LOVE a happy ending and I want them all to simply be lovey dovey (which they DESERVE). The other ending, ROUGHLY, is that some bad shit goes down and MC ends up having to sacrifice herself to keep the Moon Boys safe and she dies. This obviously completely fucks the boys up, so much so that they never fully accept MC's death while also losing their will to live and blaming themselves. As a result, during a mission for Khonshu, the boys are so out of their element that they end up being killed by their enemy.

B U T even tho me likes some good ol' angst, I could never actually go through it without a proper conclusion!! SO when the boys die, they meet and be with MC again who's been eagerly waiting for them at the Field of Reeds, truly for all eternity now and just U G H MY HEART 😭💔

Now that I've written this out, I'm SO fooken excited!! Though, as I said, this is only an IDEA (at least for now)

Buuut what do y'all think??? :3