#i would just pay someone but my hair is such a pain to deal with that i don't trust hairdressers

[wgwingguns]

Chapter 2: The Shipwright's Brig and It's Captain

Powers: (Y/n) has powers of the Sut Sut No Mi. The Step Step Fruit. Which allows the user to walk on any surface and in mid air. Summary: (Y/n) Shristi also known as Captain Brig, a well known underground shipwright, has her own huge ship that harbors up to 8 other ships in docks that allow’s her crew to fix up other pirate ships that are in need of fixing or upgrades. (Y/n) who was a student under Dr Vegapunk for 8 years, after a tragic incident that caused her to lose both arms and legs. Dr Vegapunk took her in, gave her arms and legs prosthetics to allow the girl to walk and still be an adventurous teen, there (Y/n) learned and became a brilliant scientist and inventor. Back to the present where her mighty ship and mighty crew full of shipwrights, come across two struggling men in the sea, and then a whole crew and their ship split in half and in parts of their beloved vessel floating in the ocean…The Heart Pirates, and the Kid Pirates…How strange. Note: So this is after Law and Bepo escape Blackbeard, and Kid and his crew is fucking decimated from Shanks. Enjoy lovelies!! This is def not following the canon events-

WC: 4.5k

Fire, blood, pain. The buildings around abalzed, screams filling the air, men shouting and laughing. Laying there in pain crushed underneath burning beams. Unable to move, both legs and arms numb with no feeling. Her left blue eye looked around, blood seeping from her right eye unable to close fully due to a shard of wood embedded into her eye. Why can’t she just die and have all this pain go away? All that her family and village was doing was celebrating…then the damned marines had to ruin their fun. Turning her head to the side to see her parents laying motionless in the rumbles of use to be home, then down to her arm where a huge beam smashed into her arm like a pancake. All she could do was let the tears roll down her cheeks and hope to die, her throat sore and hoarse with screaming and calling out for help, now all that came out was strained air. She just wanted to die. She wanted the pain to end.

Finally the light appeared before her, and she closed her eyes accepting the light coming forward, finally to be at peace, no more worries, no more sadness and greif, no more pain. Hearing footsteps quickly approach, she didnt care. She slowly slipped away into the light where there was no pain.

She walked through the halls of the Labophase, following close behind Dr. Vegapunk. Passing by a room, the door slightly ajar, looking in only being able to see someone with lavender hair. But she didnt pay too much mind to it, looking forward to quickly picking up her pace to keep close to Dr. Vegapunk. Reaching her hand out to his, he would take it gladfully looking up at her with a soft smile. “My little Inventor Brig, someday you will be able to sail again, like your parents did. Imagine all the things you could do with that little smart head of yours!” he would coo up to the young adult holding his hand, following him like a little duckling with its mother. All she could do was smile softly. “Someday my little inventor, someday you will be the greatest inventor and sail across the whole world and Grandline. I just know you will!” He would laugh, and all she could do was just giggle softly at her mentor’s words.

“Maybe Dr Vegapunk, maybe.” (Y/n) would smile softly, towering over her mentor, her silt feet tapping against the tiled floor as she walked, and her cool metal hand meeting the warmth of her mentor’s hand. She saw him like her own father, and she would do anything for him.

Both Kid pirates and Heart Pirates are already up and in the galley with Angus and Yael eating breakfast. They were there later so they didnt have to deal with the large crowd of people in the galley so they could talk with one another.

“So Yael what are the plans today?” Bepo would spueak looking over at Yael. Yael would simply turn her head over to Bepo with some food dripping from the corner of her mouth. Bepo couldnt help but chuckle at Yael’s antics.

“Well, besides the rest of your crew, joining up with the other shipwrights, you two caps and your best men are going to be going into the warehouse to meet cap today after we show you around the ship.” she would talk with her mouth full, wiping the corner of her mouth of some food, then with a big gulp swallowing her food happily.

“Fucking finally! You keep fucking talking about your Captain but hardly say shit about them..” Kid would grumble, taking a bite of his food. Yael would just chuckle.

“We have our reasons.” Angus would hum softly as he would finish off his food, shoving the last piece of his pancake into his mouth. Killer would watch this man with such intrest, such a large man that everything about him screams to be a beast of a man, but yet such a teddy bear.

Soon with breakfast coming to a close, they would all take their plates, bowls, and cups to the dish drop. Killer's eyes made contact with the same white haired woman from yesterday. She quickly pulled the dishes onto a loading cart, her eyes meeting his, only giving Killer a soft nod before rushing back towards the kitchen. Angus and Yael lead the way out through some doors, and heading down a long hallway with many doors on the sides of them, soon opening a large door, and sunlight filled into the small hallway. Walking out one by one, they would be awestruck by the sight before them.

A huge deck in the shape of a U, with four docks on each side, 8 in total. Three large main masts with crows nests ontop of each one. The deck flooded with men, women, and non-beanies running around doing their chores. Children ran on all four with rags in their hands as they cleaned the deck having fun. A ship docked in the middle inner of the U shaped boat. This ship was MASSIVE. Not as big as the Gran Tesoro but definitely a large scale ship. The ship was a beautiful mix of browns and some gold and silver accents to it. Kid’s and his commanders, including Law’s and Bepo’s eyes were large and marveled by the sight.

“Holy shit! Who fucking built this ship?!” Kid would snap his head towards Yael and Angus who were just laughing at their shocked faces.

Angus would smile pointing to what seemed to be a warehouse at the end of the inner part of the u. “Cap Brig did and quite a few of us aswell. But with Brig’s science and technology, it definitely made the ship go by faster, still took 3 years to build.” Angus would chuckle.

“ONLY THREE FUCKING YEARS?!” Kid’s eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of his eye sockets. Yael couldn’t help but break out into a roaring laughter, tears escaping from the corner of her eyes. Kid was so astonished that only their captain and a few others built this massive ship in three years. But the fact that they say that Captain Brig has technology that sped up the process by alot was also intriguing. Law’s eyes were just wide as he looked around, and this stunning massive ship, the crew though seemed happy and unbothered, enjoying their lives, working hard making sure the ship was nice looking that everything was working properly with no loose ends. Law himself was just impressed as well. Bepo’s eyes shining with amazement looking around at this new environment.

“Now, now, come! How about we go see Captain Brig now, hmm?” His Rosey cheeks present with a large smile, his arms and hands resting on his hips as he looks at the guest crews. All they could do was nod, still eye candying the ship that they were on. They would begin to make their way up the stairs to the upper deck of the ship. Small buildings all around with signs on the doors with various metals, woods, and more. Supply sheds. They would head towards a small building with the words ‘Wearhouse 2’ above a pair of heavy swinging metal doors.

Inside was a small group of 3 women and 4 men seemingly to be working on a boiler. Law's eyes would widen upon looking at it, it was the Polar Tang's boiler that they were working on. A woman would be hammering out the dents in the metal of the boiler along with a man. The others putting mechanical pieces together and talking with one another. One of the men would peek up seeing Angus, Yael, and the visiting crew. “Angus, what brings you here?” The man would question tilting his head.

Angus would wave his hand heading towards another pair of heavy metal doors on the other side of this small wearhouse. “Taking the guests to go meet Cap!”

The man would nod his head looking back at what he was working on. “I will warn you, Cap was saying some pretty nasty shit earlier and now there's just loud music that can be heard from in there. Guess Cap is having a hard time with The Victoria.” The man would huff softly while screwing a piece together. He was right. They could hear the booming music playing now, and the distance muffled sounds of metal clanging.

“Thanks Path!” Angus would nod his head. Yael quickly made her way over to the new pair of double metal doors, and when swinging them open, the loud music would fill the smaller wearhouse. “Fuck I guess she really is mad.” Angus would laugh making his way in with Yael. Kid and his commanders followed hot on their trail at the mention of their ship beyond these doors. Law and Be possible stood there for a moment watching the men and women working on the boiler. Law could immediately tell they knew what they were doing, and they were doing it with precision and care, but Law would quickly go along with Bepo joining the Kid Pirates, Yael, and Angus.

Walking into the larger wearhouse, music loudly blasting, it was a sight before their eyes. Two huge cranes with chains and ropes holding the split in half Victoria in the air, along with two huge robotic claws holding the ship as well. Loud clanging in the corner of the wearhouse, as sparks were seen flying from welding. Stopping as a loud crash happens, and the a loud curse of a female “YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! I'VE WELDING THIS PIECE OF SHIT OF METAL FIVE TIMES ALREADY! GOOD FUCKING PROPS TO WHO MADE THIS SHIT! JUST FUCKING GREAT!! MOTHER FUCKING BASTARD OF A FUCKING RETARDED FUCK WHO DOESN'T KNOW SHIT!” suddenly a large piece of metal would go flying and crash near the group that just walked in. Law, Bepo, Kid, and his commanders quickly backing away from where this sheet of metal is now gouging into the wall and floor. Though Angus and Yael didn't even move or flinch, just smirks on their faces. Kid's eyes wide with hearing such a colorful mouth from a woman no less.

“Yep she's mad alright!” Angus would boast, barely even being heard over the loud country music. Suddenly the shadow or a woman spiriting across over to a huge pile in the corner of the room full of metal quickly digging through, one finding a good sheet of metal would make her way back over to where the welding parts were. Quick sounds of hammer banging, and then sparks of welding once again came to a stop once again. Suddenly they would see the woman in full. 6’9, prosthetic metal arms with glowing yellow cores in the middle, prosthetic silt legs as well, a white lab jacket over her tall slender frame stained from rust, oil, and maybe blood. These sunglasses like goggles on her face covering her eyes, but her brown hair fading into a red, and the same classic black shirt, and brown overalls with the Jolly Roger presented on front with a tool belt over her waist. A strange red tattoo on the left side of her face near her ear. But this lady had gauges, pricings, and sharp teeth presented in a wicked grin of hers. As suddenly jumping into the air, she walked through the air towards The Victoria suspended in the air.

Stopping before she would slap the piece of metal onto a inner beam of the ship, taking out some nails from her tool belt and placing them in their places that she needed them. With ease she would back away grabbing what seems to be a large hammer with a very short handle, until swinging it, it would extend, and hitting it against the nail. With one heavy hit from the hammer and one hard hit the nail was fully in with ease. But she continued with a swift and smooth pattern, she would hit each nail with every hit. Then after a good few more swings, the nails are perfectly straight and perfect.

“Captain!” Yael would shout but the music was too loud, as the female was still in her own little world checking over her work. Yael would sigh “Angus! Do the thing!” Angus would sigh looking around finding a bolt on the ground picking it up and chucking it at the supposive captain.

Right about the nut was about to hit her, her hand would fly out quickly, the metal hand catching it with ease crushing it. As the female's head would turn to look at the group, the sunglasses goggles covering her eyes as she stared them down. Dropping the crushed bolt to the ground below her, she would reach up a hand to her glasses pushing them up with a finger to rest on her forehead. Her blue and yellow eyes staring down as she looked at them with a quirked eyebrow. Then pushing a button on her hand, the music would suddenly stop. “The fuck you want” she would speak.

“Cap, guests!” Yael would shake her head with a devious smile on her face. The female captain's eyes would turn to look at the guests. Standing up and suddenly stepping down through the air towards the group then landing on the ground in front of Kid. Her tall frame looked down at him. Her head would tilt to the side glaring daggers at him.

“So you're the captain of th-” Kid would try to speak till the woman would hold her hand up to his lips shushing him.

“Shut your fucking mouth… do you know how fucking broken you ship is?!” She would snap at him, Kid's eyes would widen. “The fucking fact that you have old rotting wood, broken beams, nails not where they should be! And not to fucking mention your ship is in fucking half!” She would yell towering even more over Kid. Killer would quickly make his way pulling his friend away before he could snap back. Angus would pull away the female.

“Captain Brig, calm please. He wasn't intending for this to happen.” Angus would speak hushed, as Brit's eyes full of rage slowly softened while looking at Kid without fear.

“Fine.. You're lucky that your ship is one of a kind and designed beautifully or I would have your head as decoration… “ she would scoff, turning away. Kid’s eyes were full of rage and curiosity of this woman. This was the Captain of this beautiful large scale ship? Law watched the scene before him. “Anyways, pleasure to meet you all the name is (Y/n) or known as Captain Brig. You all can just call me Brig.” she would sigh, dipping her head towards the group in greetings. Now noticing her accent had a southern accent to it, the accent strong but smooth. Law couldn’t help but look at her arms, and legs, the metal a dark grey with glowing pale yellow lights in some parts. The stilts for her feet, noting some small thrusters on the back of where her calves would be. More than likely used to make her run faster when needed. But another fact was, how did she walk through the air when there were no surfaces for her to walk on. Was it the small thrusters on the back of her calves or was it some sort of power like a devil fruit? Only saying a question could answer that.

“Miss Brig, we thank you for your hospitality. Now if you wouldnt mind answering a few questions for me?” Law would quip up, his amber eyes looking up at the tall captain. Brig’s eyes would snap towards Law, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared down the doctor. Her cold hard eyes would send slight shivers down his spine upon a look like that from such a woman.

“Sure.” was the only thing she would quip back at him. Those eyes of hers not easing up one bit.

“How did you exactly walk through the air? There are no surfaces that I see for you to walk on. By the looks of it, you have small thrusters on your calves. So did you use those to walk through the air or do you have devil fruit powers?” Law wouldn’t tear his gaze away from the cold stare she was giving him.

“Devil fruit. The Sut Sut fruit. It allows me to walk, run, sit, and lay on any surface of my choosing. That Includes water and air.” she would raise a brow now her own curiosity peaked.

“Intresting. Other than that, how long will it take for you to fix mine and Kid’s ships?” Law would flash almost a smug smirk on his face seeing that he caught Brig’s curiosity.

“Hmm…Well with your boiler of your ship almost being finished as is, the framework though is going to take a while. Your ship partially imploded once it hit a certain depth.” Law’s eyes would widen. “But doesnt mean im not up to the task of fixing it, cause I know I can fix it. But on a rough but good estimate for both of your ships…about another week give or take. At most two weeks.” A smile would finally start to spread across her face, the excitement of fixing these wonderful interesting ships, and getting them up and going and maybe seeing if she can do upgrades for them. Finally her eyes are not cold anymore but determined and almost have a light spark to them.

Kid would grumble quietly hoping that Brig wouldn't hear. Killer would nod his masked head, “Thank you we greatly appreciate your help in fixing our ship. We will do anything for you while we wait for our ships to be fixed, and once done we will leave, and hopefully sometime in the future run into you again and pay you back.” Killer would sigh thankfully at Captain Brig’s words. She would simply smile, nodding her head at Killer.

“The pleasure is all mine. Angus and Yael will ask you what your best attributes are, and you all will be set in different places to help around as payment for now.” (Y/n)’s smile now a gentle and endearing smile instead of the cold stature she had moments ago. “Now excuse me, I must continue to work on your Victoria cause fucking hell it won't fix itself.” she would chirp happily, as turning back around and with quick steps, back into the air she goes towards the Victoria, reaching her hand up tapping a button on her hand again the loud music continuing from where it stopped.

Angus would motion for them to follow, and they would do so, Wire though couldn't help but stare back at the Captain of this ship with such marvel. A ferocious but caring understanding woman. Wire turned his tall frame back towards where the others were headed, and he would quickly follow, catching up.

Kid was assigned helping with fixing machinery, Killer was assigned in the kitchen, Heat and Wire was assigned in helping make sure the sails and the ship was clean. Law and Bepo were assigned to help in the medical bay.

Kid was having the time of his life talking with other tinkers while talking about how he could help them, as well as giving him some time on things. For once, Kid wasn't snapping back at people. Killer was enthralled to work with people who knew how to cook. He also learned that the white haired lady was the second in charge of the kitchen, her name being Umai comically enough. Both of them got along with one another quite well, having the same interest of wanting to hide their faces due to being insecure about their faces. Wire and Heat had fun getting to know the shipwright crew that they were working with, some of them being kids who marveled at Wire's height and Heat's scars. Law and Bepo felt like they were in heaven with the amount of medical supplies they had on this ship. Yael, also being the doctor and herbalist of the ship would just cackle at their faces, upon seeing how much stuff they had, and items that would also help with injuries.

Time would fly as they did their business, helping the shipwright crew with their daily business and chores. Soon in the distance, kinda muffled, the lunch bell would ring twice. Everyone would begin to make their way to the galley to eat.

Kid's crew would sit at one end of the many tables, and on the same table at the other end was Law's crew. Already food piled onto their plates as they began to eat and talk with one another of how everything was going with their respective assigned jobs at the moment.

“Fuck man! When I tell you I have never been this rock hard then ever before, well i fucking am! It's so fucking nice to geek out about shit with other people for fucking once.” Kid would laugh loudly. Killer would roll his eyes under his mask, his shoulder shaking a bit saying that he's laughing quietly.

“Not the rock hard part, but I agree. The cooks in the kitchen are all very nice and welcoming. They definitely know what they are doing.” Killer would slurp some of his noodles through his mask.

Law on the other side of the table hearing this would roll his amber eyes, shaking his head softly. Though he did have to agree with Killer. Yael knew a lot of stuff and was glad that he and Bepo got to learn some new things today from Yael. Everything about everyone on this ship knew what they were doing and seemed to do everything with a passion.

Though Law's mind would go back to (Y/n). Thinking of how she lost both of her legs and arms to have the need for prosthetics. Who built her prosthetics? Did she perhaps build them herself? How has she managed to be under the World's government knowledge for so long, not a single peep about the Shipwright Pirates. So many questions spiraled around in his head while he ate. Bepo was talking to Shachi and Penguin about what Yael had shown him and Law in the medical bay. Penguin and Shachi got to help around on deck making sure everything was clean and tidy with a small group consisting of a few kids, teens, and some adults.

Yael would stroll past their table, Law's and Bepo's attention turned towards her as she walked toward the grand staircase headed towards where Grid's wearhouse was. A plate in her hand, and repeating what she did the other day, hitting the metal doors with her foot, slowly the huge metal doors ever so slightly opening, and the same metal hand reaching out grabbing the plate and receding back through the door as it closes. Yael would quickly make her way back over to the table where the two crews sat, sitting in between Law and Kid. Setting down her own plate full of food she would begin to dig in eating it like an animal.

Kid would glance over at her with wide eyes, this woman herself is definitely beating him by how fast and animalistic she was eating her food. She must always be hungry…remind him of a stupid monkey of an emperor. Kid would shake his head turning his attention back to his food to continue to eat happily and being in his own world while talking with his commanders.

Then all peace and comfortable loud speaking in the mess hall would come to a close and the loud panicked bells ringing. Everyone eating would freeze quickly getting up and rushing out of the messhall leaving their plates of food on the tables. Yael choked on her food coughing then hitting her chest violently trying to help her catch her breath. Law seeing everyone panic leaving the messhall quickly he would look over to Yael with a concerned look in his amber orbs. “Yael what's going on?”

“The alarm bell! We have marines on us! Quickly up! UP!” she would scream as she would get up rushing out towards the door that leads to the deck. The Heart Pirates and the Kid pirates would share a look with one another before quickly standing and following after Yael quickly.

Rushing down the hallway to the deck, emerging out onto the deck they would see the shipwright pirates rushing around getting the cannon’s ready, the smaller ship that belongs to the shipwrights, slowly being hauled up into the air by large chains and rope so now the inner part of the ship was empty. “Find your groups that you were with earlier! Get with them and ask them what you need to do! We are going to need all the help we can get! Law Bepo you are with me!” She would turn heading towards the stairs that led to the upper deck where the Helm was. Angus is already up there talking with some of the Helms men and women.

Yael with Law and Bepo following close to her, keeping up with her, they would get onto the helms deck. “How many Marines do we have on us?” Yael would run up to Angus asking quickly.

“We have three sinkers!” Angus would yell while then barking orders at helms men and women. Sinkers? Law would then look over to where Angus was pointing for Yael to see the marine ships. They were large scale Marine ships, but not as big as the Shipwright’s Brig. So they must have code names for different types of marine ships, which was actually pretty genius then giving the marines credits for calling them their actual names. “Turn hard port! We need to face them head on!” Angus would cry out angrily. It had been months since they last had their run-in with marines.

“What are you going to do? If you go down the middle of them you will get sunk!” Law would turn his head towards Angus, what they were doing was something really sketchy that could sink their large lucious ship.

“Dont worry, we know what we are doing! There is a reason no one knows about us yet!” Angus would laugh, as suddenly the sounds of huge metal doors were opening, looking down he would see the huge door’s to the warehouse opening. Suddenly a long metal track would start to extend down the middle of the ship to the very tip of the ship. Suddenly sounds of things coming to life as suddenly this large scale cannon would zoom out, and ontop of this cannon was (Y/n) with a vicious wide smug grin on her face. Violence and a crazed look to her eyes.

What the hell were they doing now?

Tag list: @h0n3y-l3m0n05

[sunflowerdigs]

Braiding my hair today. To give you a sense of what a stupidly daunting task that is, it's been 40 minutes of trying and I finally have 2 vaguely defined parts running across my head.

[dcxdpdabbles]

So Danny is just a bunch of good that takes a humanoid shape, and we've seen him stretch and warp himself. What is sometimes he just leaves bits of himself behind. He has restoration so he can heal himself and others so when he realizes he left a foot behind he just grows a new one.

Batman: We've found more of the meta, 3 left feet all genetically identical, either were dealing with a cloning operation or someone using a regenerative meta as an organ farm. The most recent finds washed up between Gotham and metropolis.

Meanwhile Danny: I've gotta visit Dani more Madrid was beautiful can't wait to show Jazz the photos, tried to land and eats it, Damn it I though I fixed this!

Danny loves his new power- he likes to call it "Play-Boo" as a pun on playdough because it allows him to shift and change his body as he sees fit.

It was hard to mentally change his appearance as his core was tied to his idea of himself. Still, he can make his hair longer at will, shift to a younger or older version of himself, and even slightly change his coloration, though that takes a bit more concentration.

Danny is sadly unable to shape-shift into someone else. He thinks being able to regenerate is an okay trade-off. Especially when Danny accidentally leaves bits of himself behind with his new warping technique.

It's not the kind of warping he would like- seeing as he could only go a few yards from his original spot- but he hopes with time and practice, he will be able to fling himself from one side of the country to the other, much like opening portals.

But unlike the portals, he won't have to step into the ghost zone as a layaway.

One day, he'll be able to think, "Star City!" and bam will be there without having to destabilize his whole body or lose limbs. Or some internal organs. Like his left kidney.

Which was currently somewhere in Gotham as his warping has developed to the point that he can send himself to the area within eyesight, and he had traveled to metropolis in this method instead of flying to try to perfect it.

"Shoot," He grumbles, falling into a booth across from Dani. She had asked that he visit the big city with her, do a few sights, and then the two would fly downstate to check out some national parks.

"Lost something again?" She asks, sipping the soda she had ordered while waiting for him. Dani had been in the city for about three days and had fallen in love with the diner they were eating at.

She insisted they meet up there just so Danny could try some of their roast beef sandwiches. The favorite food of the two siblings.

"My left Kidney." He sighs, patting his side. Thank goodness his Play-Boo allowed him to not feel pain. He hated to have to feel every time he lost one of his body parts. "I need to eat my troubles away until a new one grows back."

"I'm not paying for your meal."

"But Dani! I'm down a kidney!"

She snorts. "It'll grow back by the time we leave, and you know it. But fine, you big baby, I'll pay for lunch. You have to cover the diner."

Satisfied, he lets her call over a waitress who quickly takes their orders and vanishes to the back, where the cook will likely make "the best damn roast beef" for him. He leans back, asking Dani about her travels.

She eagerly starts talking about the local art she has taken pictures of. At one point, her travels had turned into photo albums, documenting everything she saw and experienced.

She made some money this way, selling some of her photos, but mostly, Dani preferred to keep them for herself or the family.

As she talked about the light reflecting on some large News building- the daily planet- and the great lengths she had to go to get close enough to capture the sunlight, the door to the dinner chimed.

Two men in suits ushered in, one wearing a dark blue that seemed far cheaper than the deep black of his companion. Danny instinctively turned towards the sound, but he quickly looked away as the two men found a seat in a booth furthest away from him.

"I met this guy, Jimmy, who promised to have my photos submitted for a junior photographer contest. It's to help promote tourism, so it's based on the "Metropolis' beauty," but first place is five hundred!" Dani eagerly tells him, her eyes sparkling.

"I know you'll win. You'll make a name for yourself in no time as the best photographer of our era." Danny smiles at his little sister. He lowers his voice "Maybe with that money you win we won't have to sell my organs for a while."

She laughs, adding to the joke like it's second nature, "But you're so fun to harvest! Side's it's not like Vlad will allow you to walk away from the operation. He already has two more kidney orders from Gotham waiting for you."

Danny grimces. "I just lost one this morning. Why does he overbook me so much."

"I can do it if you-"

"Not on your life. I can regerate. You can only cry."

Dani kicks him hard in the shin. She waves her coffee spoon at him like a wizard banishing a wand. "Are you calling me a crybaby?"

"Well, I'm not calling you a cry-lady." He laughs as she scoffs. She opens her mouth to say something when her eyes lock with something over his shoulder. Her face closes down at once, hardening into someone who has traveled through the roughest parts of cities and towns.

Danny used to be worried that her instance of traveling alone at such a young age would ruin her childlike wonder and innocence, but he knew it would be worse to keep her at home.

Even with Vlad finally getting the much-needed help, the fact that Dani has existed for two years now didn't mean she was comfortable with being tied down.

Twisting around, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary. The two men are casually eating their meals by the far window- too far for them to hear, the waitress is sitting behind the counter flipping through a magazine, and the chef can be seen through a little window making something at his gril.

What had alarmed Dani so much?

"We have to go," She hisses in ghost speech, eyes never leaving the man in the blue suit. Was it him? He seems to unthreatening with his big bulky glasses and easy smile. "I don't know why, but I don't like that guy's vibe."

Well, he won't argue with her about her gut feelings. Those were never important to ignore. "Let's take the rest of this to go."

She raises her hand, calling over the waitress, flipping open her wallet to leave enough to cover their bill and leave a generous tip. Danny quickly gathers their food in take-home boxes, keeping his body in front of Dani to block the men's view of her.

He's grateful that he had pulled on his hood, as his ears had gotten cold from the warping. With the fact he never turned around once since they walked in and his trusty hood, his face has been kept hidden from the men.

A small victory.

Hopefully, he won't see them again after this.

"Come on." He tells Dani, as she quickly gathers her stuff. "Vlad is going to have my arms and legs if we late meet him. I don't want to be just a torso again."

"I mean, it's your fault for trying to run away." She sighs. "You know how he gets. At least you didn't have to entertain his guests."

"Yeah laying in a dark room hoping to regrow my limbs is much better than letting those freaks touch me." Danny agrees thinking back to the big gala Vlad had invited them to.

To show goodwill and try to move past their hostility, the Fentons' children- Jazz, Dan, Danny, and Dani- had all agreed to go with him, under the condition that they be on their best behavior.

Danny had been running late due to a ghost attack and had chosen to use his wrapping far past the agreed limitation his parents, and Vlad had set for him.

He got to Vlad's castle but none of his limbs had followed him. Mom had been so outraged by his reckless behavior he's been grounded staying in one of the guest rooms without tv to "think about what could have happened!"

Dad and Vlad had merely nodded to their wife's punishment for their child. (And he was still getting used to the idea of Vlad being married to his parents.)

Jazz, Dan, and Dani were left to the gala, where Jazz had intellectual conversations with college professors Vlad was funding or where Dan was talking up some pretty men and women with a drink in hand, Dani as the youngest was left to affluent old ladies pinching her cheeks and giving her backhand compliments on being a "lady."

The Dannies hated being touched by strangers, and those higher-class old ladies had no concept of personal space.

"Don't worry, I'm almost too old soon." Dani chirps, holding the door open for him. "Soon Vlad will have to find other kids to flaunt in front of rich people."

"That would be the day." The two exit the dinner, switching the conversation to the idea of dessert- deciding to search on their phones a local frozen yogurt place.

Neither notice the two men- one whose fork has crumbled in his grip and another who is clicking away on his phone with a look of outer disgust on his face

"Bruce?"

"I'm already messaging Babs. She's following them with the city cameras as we speak. Don't worry, Clark, this "Vlad" isn't going to get away with it."

[xprakzif]

for the night • matt sturniolo

pairing: matt x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT, mdni!!, oral(male receiving), raw intercourse, creampie,

summary: matt can’t take his eyes off the girl he’s seen on his phone once before, so he takes matters into his own hands once he meets her at the club.

“y/n!” she heard over the blaring speakers of the club. being new to the influencer community was scary. luckily she had amazing friends who welcomed her in and got her started.

she clicked her heels to the location of her friend, larray, as he stood by a group of females at the side bar.

colorful lights flashed covering each body that danced and walked around. she finally made it to him and gave a quick embrace squealing in excitement.

“thanks for inviting me! you look hot.” she complimented looking her friend up and down.

“i know,” he flipped nonexistent hair off his shoulder as a joke. “look at you though! no need for food tonight you already ate. but you could use a couple drinks!” he mentioned before grabbing hold of her hand and leading her through the crowd.

she didn’t want to get too messed up, that wasn’t the plan at all that night.

to make her friends happy, she did a few shots and made her way to the dance floor. as she moved her body in between her friends tara and naila, she pushed her elbow out a little too far and hit someone in the rib.

“oh- i’m so sorry!” she cried looking up to the boy who was towering over her. he giggled,

“no worries! i can take the pain i deal with my brothers on a daily. i’m nick!” he stuck his hand out to greet her.

“wow, i’m y/n. you’re one of the triplets, right?” she shouted over the music.

“unfortunately,” he groaned. “i’m kidding, but my brothers are.. somewhere around here. took me a lot to convince them to come!”

“aww, hopefully i meet them as well! were you going to the bar?” referring to him walking through the dance floor trying to escape.

“i’m not a drinker, i was gonna go sit with my friends over there, care to join?” she nodded and grinned excited to meet more people.

following behind nick, he sat on a stool next to larray and a few unfamiliar girls.

“heyyyyy y/n!” larray slurred being a little tipsy.

she giggled as the other girls introduced themselves. she did pay attention, just the loud music made it hard for her to understand clearly so she smiled and nodded stating back her name.

the group engaged in conversation as she became aware of her surroundings, taking in the people and recognizing some.

her eyes landed on a booth of a few males sitting around, some on their phones, others talking and sipping from red solo cups. but one individual stuck out to her. it wasn’t because he looked just like her new accidental friend, or because he simply looked like he wanted to be anywhere but the rented out club.

the reasoning was his eyes locked onto her body, slowly trailing up and down until gaining notice of her shared gaze.

looking away quickly, he fidgeted with his brown hair, running his fingers through it a few times.

“girl who got your attention? i asked if you watched my recent video?” larray poked her shoulder lightly almost causing her to fall off her metal bar stool.

“yes! i didddd. it was.. very funny.” she lied trying to hide the stare down she just witnessed.

“mhmm. then what was your favorite part?”

“all of it.” her cheeks tinted a bit knowing she was caught in the act.

“it’s cool,” he rolled his eyes playfully.

“you should ask her to join our collab!” nick chimed in. she looked away still trying to listen and finding the same booth she once looked at. the boy wasn’t in his spot, scanning the entire booth not finding him.

“i would love to!” she added, a little upset at her interest being gone. she really did wanna meet the other two brothers. so agreeing to the collab would be her ticket in, so she thought.

“uh- hey.” she flinched as a tap on her shoulder grabbed her attention. her friends were too into their conversation to notice her spin her stool around to face the boy she once saw.

“hi, i’m y/n.” she waved nervously, setting her plastic cup of soda down on the bars surface.

“i’m matt.” he was still standing up awkwardly as she grinned politely and nodded. there was a dull moment between the two. neither of them making eye contact out of nerves.

“d-do you wanna-um, like hook up?” her eyes widened at his question thinking she misheard him from the blaring song and loud chatter from multiple voices.

she titled her head in confusion as he repeated, “wanna hook up?” still shaky in his voice.

“oh! so i did hear you correctly..” she shouted, “pretty straight forward, huh?”

“sorry, sorry! i like never done this before- i just thought you were really pretty and i follow you- and stuff..” his hand scratched the stubble on his chin nervously as she sat with her mouth open.

he was attractive. she kept her composure knowing she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want him to ruin her right then and there.

she already knew of their publicly and couldn’t lie she was a fan.

“sure.” was all that could come out her mouth. she leaped off the stool, her short dress coming up a bit revealing more of her back thighs.

she waited for him to move and he grasped her hand to lead her. gaining looks from their shared friends as the stumbled by.

“oooo she’s getting some!” larray cheered watching the pair disappear into the populated club.

“wait.. is that matt?!” nick nearly spat out the juice he was drinking when he noticed his brother walking away with the girl he just met.

ending up in a dim private room, decorated with red led lighting and a black couch made for vip experiences, matt struggled to locked the door after the girl entered.

they took in the beauty of the space around them before he spoke.

“um, what are you comfortable with?”

“anything is fine, i guess.” she wasn’t sure where to start either, but her confidence shortly grew as she realized who she was with, knowing this is a onetime opportunity.

he sat on the velvet black sofa when she joined him by sitting on his lap facing him.

she ran he fingers down his jawline then leaned in to kiss him as his arms wrapped around her waist almost instantly.

their lips gaining speed in their movements as they made out still hearing the music faintly through the soundproof walls.

she grounded down on his lap feeling his bulge harden through this oversized jeans.

he hummed at the action tightening his grip drawing her closer.

they continued in this position, his hips bucking up every so often causing her to whimper between kisses.

she pulled away climbing off of him and kneeling down in front of him. unclasping the buckle of his black leather belt and unbuttoning his faded jeans, he lifted up his pelvis enough for her to pull the material down swiftly along with his boxers.

his length sprung up and twitched as the pink tip glistened in the red light.

she held the base, looking up at him to see his bottom lip between his teeth. he pushed his arms out the sleeves of his flannel leaving him in a shirt that wasn’t too clear the color because of the hue of the room.

swirling her thumb around the tip, moving the slimy substance down the middle gaining a noise from the back of his throat muffled by his bitten lip.

she began stroking up and down his solid dick, throwing his head back slightly.

leaning toward, her lips touched the head of his member before sticking her tongue out to moisturize it. her mouth sunk onto him painfully slow as his face expressed distress with his eyebrows knitted together.

she quickened up, her head bobbing up and down with the rest she couldn’t fit fisted in her small hand.

his mouth fell open as he panted and petted her head smoothing down her hair.

“mmfh- so good..” he whispered through breaths.

his eye closed as he felt the pleasurable sting becoming close. pulsing in her mouth, she noticed he wanted release as his teeth gritted and eyes squeezed shut as he let out breathless whines.

she pulled off with a string of saliva trailing from her lips to his dick as she stood up and lifted her tube dress enough to see her bare thighs and ass.

he watched every move she made trying his best to be patient.

climbing back on, she grabbed his length, moving her thong to the side and slid it through her folds moaning and keeping eye contact with him.

finally aligning him with her entrance, he surprised her and bucked his hips upward, forcing himself in as she let out a yelp.

“holy shit- you’re so t-tight.. fuck” he moaned out squeezing her thighs as she lowered herself more fully allowing him in.

his face was flustered. he gripped the top of her dress and yanked it down revealing her bare chest.

“you’re so hot.” he whispered.

she started bouncing on his dick as they both became vocal drowning out the sounds of the ongoing party.

he gripped her hips forcibly slamming her onto him repeatedly as she cried out from him constantly hitting her g-spot.

“oh my god-“ he breathed out being interrupted by a vibration followed by a loud chime from his phone.

she didn’t stop her movements as he turned his head to the side glancing at his phone placed on the arm rest of the couch.

the time read 3:16AM and he spotted a message from nick.

me n chris called an uber meet u out front in 10

he did read it. it just didn’t register in his mind over the sensations that he was feeling in the moment.

she didn’t think it was important since he seemed to ignored it. she wrapped her arms around his neck and left wet sloppy kissed over his lips as he attempted to do the same.

he held onto her back as he lifted and pushed her onto the couch right on top of his cellular.

lifting her legs, he placed both over his shoulders while one of his was kneeled onto the sofa and one placed on the floor. he pushed his jeans down to his knees and reentered.

he slammed into her constantly as he groaned loudly, you’d think he was angry.

the sounds of smacking skin and breathing filled the air even over the noise outside the room.

“matt! matt- fuck!” was all she could let out as she felt the knot in her core and squeezed him in her walls.

“let it out, baby- shit.” his eyes were halfway shut with his mouth agape coming closer to his high with every thrust.

her thighs trembled when she arched her back off of the sofa, screaming out moans as she pushed through her release.

“can i- can i cum inside you?” he asked through pants lowering his body down on hers putting his face in her neck.

“yes- please!” becoming overstimulated she yelped and grapped onto his shirt. she felt vibrating assuming it was the thumping of the party.

he drew out a loud groan as he pumped his warm fluids inside painting her walls white.

he stood in the same position trying too catch up to his own breathing.

“that was really good..” she let out shyly.

“yea- yea it was.” his phone began to ring.

he reached beneath her to grab it seeing a call from chris. he pulled out and sat up fixing himself quickly as he answered the call and held it between his ear and shoulder trying to buckle his belt.

the girl sat up on her elbows and pulled up her dress covering her body.

“hello?” he spoke.

“where the hell are you bro? we’ve been waiting 30 minutes! i’m tired as shit!” his brother yelled so loud it was heard even off speaker.

“my bad- i’m coming now.”

“well you have to call us another uber.”

“alright.” he hung up the phone and pocketed it, standing and offering a hand to help the girl up.

she straightened out more as she was on her feet.

“thank you- um- for this. i had a really good time, but my brothers wanna leave so i gotta go.” he led her to the door of the private room.

“me too, it was nice meeting you!”

his heart skipped, “same here! hopefully we’ll meet again..”

“matt, you asshole!” nick greeted getting up from the outdoor bench.

“nice to see you too!” he barked back. the uber finally pulled up as the boys pilled in.

“first you didn’t wanna come, now you wanted to stay longer?” chris asked from the passenger seat looking back.

“yea! and where’s your flannel?” nick mentioned.

“shit!”

part 2

btw i was tired af writing this at 2am so apologies 😭

[kingconia]

Hello I js read ur MC who takes inspriration from the protag of their stories and if you're still taking requests, is it possible to do a part 2 for it?

A/N: You are welcome. I pondered a little about the continuation of this concept, and figured out that Leona & Vil had the most potential for the second part, since I left a cliffhanger in their stories. Others seemed quite cliche or obvious—Riddle has a crush, he can easily deal with, and same goes for Malleus, Azul & Idia. I hope, you don't mind.

The first part can be found here. Obviously, read it first for the context.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR & VIL SCHOENHEIT WITH THE READER, WHO IS INSPIRED BY THE PROTAGONIST OF THEIR STORIES.

Leona Kingscholar. 💛

— Leona is bad at admitting aloud that he made a mistake, but it doesn't necessarily mean he has no realisation of it. He knows, he hurt you. That is obvious;

— He starts paying more attention to you in the school, since he hasn't figured out how to fix your relationship yet. And that is when he notices that... You are actually not as cheerful as he remembered you to be? Most of the time, you sit away from other students of Savanaclaw?

— When he asks Ruggie about that, he shrugs. He tells Leona that you were always like this, and they even call you ”the sombre heir” among themselves, since you are not quite fun to have around. Leona is surprised. You were so different with him...

— In the end, Leona simply decides to speak with you honestly. He has this feeling that you will accept him either way. You always did before. But, oh, seems like he is not on your good side anymore, isn't he?

•

”Oi, kittie, watcha doin'?” Leona plops in front of you, putting his elbows on the table.

He is nervous, he will not lie about. It is the first time he feels such an overcoming anxiety before someone alive, and that is strange. It is just you, after all. Right?

”Dunno,” you answer slowly, putting a slice of meat in your mouth. ”Thinking about my family, who died so yours could take our throne away. You, Leona?”

Well, you definitely are not planning to forgive him so easily.

Leona shifts uncomfortably as he tries to catch your gaze. Without a luck.

”I accept my fault,” he murmurs quietly, hardly audible. ”And if anything, I understand your pain. I, too—”

A sudden laugh from your lips makes him stop in the tracks. As you wipe your mouth with the napkin, you smile suddenly. And when you raise your eyes on him, Leona almost flinches. Because there is nothing kind or gentle in these orbs now. Instead, they are cold. They are cold, and at the same time, they are awfully mad.

”What would you know about it, golden boy?” Your voice shift in a condescending tone as you shake your head slightly. ”Kings like your brother, Leona, they have honour. And princes like you or your little nephew have a bravery and heart. But people like me, Leona, the fallen ones, we only have rage. So, excuse me, but I don't think we are at the same page, kittie.”

You are hissing your last words, hand coming to grab Leona by his chin, tip of claws scratching his skin. He wants to back away, he intends too, but he is suddenly strangely fascinated by you. Intimidated, even.

”If you want to apologise, Leona, then do it properly. With falling on your knees, at least,” your fangs flash in a carnivorous smirk. ”And until then, have your dreams. Sweet or not—we will see in which mood I am going to be today.”

Leona gulps as he watches you leaving, eyes fixated on your back.

Perhaps you ignored his existence until now, willing to forget his rudeness. But now, it seemed, he lost the last pieces of your mercy.

...And he needs to figure out how to have your forgiveness really quick.

Vil Schoenheit. 💜

— Vil is not surprised when headmaster warns him, that someone from his dorm attempts to take away his housewarden title. He already knows who it is, and he is not surprised to see your face, when he enters the main hall;

— He had a bad week already: his hair products worked awfully, your number of followers outnumbered his own, and Neige practically took the role that was his in the very last moment. It is only logical that in the same week you attempt to take his title;

— And, of course, you succeed. The poison you created can be only worth of the Pomefiore housewarden, and no one can deny that. Even Vil. In fact, he always acknowledged your brains and wilt, so of anything, he feels it is fair win;

— What makes him stop frozen, though, is the person you want to see as your vice. Originally, Vil thought that you will take Rook—he is quite aware of his attraction towards you—but then... You chose him? Why? Why would you do that?

•

”Well,” Vil says, when the two of your are left in the room alone, and there is no need to act as you were friends anymore. ”What else are you planning to do with me? You are the housewarden—you won. Why making me your vice?”

You turn on your heels to face him, a big and shiny smile plastered on your face as you step closer to him.

”Don't be so mean, Vil-sama. Why do you act as if I hate you? I don't,” you put yours hands on chair handles he is sitting at, invading his personal space gracefully. ”I cannot hate a person, who helped me to understand what my signature spell is.”

Vil furrows, pressing his back to the chair more firmly, not trusting you coming close to him. Yet, it hardly changes anything—the tips of your noses are practically touching.

”I apologise, but I cannot recall such a thing.”

He had never helped you with anything in your life. Now, Vil is ashamed that he didn't.

He remembers your first day in the dorm. How you clinged to his side, with stars shining in your eyes, asking him about this and that. How you attempted to befriend him. How you only originally started to speak with Rook to understand him better.

Vil failed the little student of his.

And the person in front of him didn't want his acceptance now.

”How come?” Your hands are suddenly on his head, fingers wrapped around his favourite diadem, taking it off slowly. ”After all, you were the first beast I spoke with.”

He flinches, and you carefully kiss him on the cheek before putting the diadem on your own hair. It looks nice.

Vil hates that.

”I miss the kid you were,” he murmurs against his best judgement.

You hum.

”Bear the monster you created, instead.”

You left him on the vice position so it could be a remind for his mistake. For his cruelty. For his arrogance. He realises it now. You don't need to do anything special to hurt him, if he does it to himself, working under your command on the daily basis, seeing you shine, when he burns out.

You are beautiful, Vil accepts that. Your revenge is a charming one, too.

”I heard Neige got that role?” You ask suddenly, when he reaches doors, unwilling to turn back. ”Such a shame. Something must happened.”

He grits his teeth.

Vil hates himself for making you like this. Yet, he can't help but feel proud. Whatever he created you as—you would take what is yours, with blood and sweat. He can admire that about you. And deep inside, Vil thinks you do that, too. Deep inside you enjoy it as much as you hate it.

”Yes. Something.”

After all, there is truly nothing Vil can do, but accept his defeat.

The king is dead. Long life to you.

A/N: Based on protagonists or not—they had some darkness in theirselves as well; just as Simba was quite ruthless, when the situation required of it, in many interpretations of the tale, Snow-white learned how to be cruel, too. I think it is enamoring how these said protagonists can be just as their villains, especially if they were growing up around them in one way or another.

[wingedjellyfishflight]

A Forgotten Birthday

"How old is y/n then?" The new recruit is always trying to flirt with Soap by asking him gossip and facts about the team.

"Twenty-six." He answers her so easily. It feels like a stab to your heart all over again.

"Twenty-seven." You correct, voice conspicuously devoid of emotion.

"No, your birthday isn't until May, and it's..." His face pales. He whips around to look at you. "We missed it. How did we miss it?" You shrug, not meeting his eyes.

"Some things just aren't important." Your food tastes like sawdust. You give up trying to eat and toss it in the trash on the way out. Maybe hitting the gym will help. No, you know he's going to tell everyone, and you don't want to deal with their pity-filled stares and questions about making it up to you now that they've finally remembered.

Running the trail system near the base is a favorite of yours normally. Today, it isn't relaxing, but anger-inducing. You were on a mission in a forest just like this across the world for your birthday. It was almost two weeks after the day that you got back, and you eagerly waited for the surprise party that Soap, Gaz, and Price always set up for each person's birthday, but... nothing. After three weeks, you gave up all hope for one and steeled yourself to give nothing away. Can't let them see you hurt over a stupid birthday. Can't make the team lose focus or lose your own. You're an adult, after all.

Zoned out, you don't realize how far you have run until it's nearly too dark to see the path. Sitting on a stump, you give in and have a cry about the whole thing. Self-pity taking you over for just a few minutes. Wiping your eyes, you startle when a hand touches your back. You leap up and move to a defensive crouch only to see Ghost's balaclava looming out of the darkness at you.

"Luv, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing. Just, I don't know. Needed a cry, I guess. Didn't think anyone would see me."

"You certainly didn't see anyone. I've been running behind you for nearly five minutes. I could have been anyone. You need to be more aware of things." Your hurt and confusion turns to anger at the lecture he is spouting off.

"Ya, I guess I do need to be more aware. Clearly, I am the problem." You stomp away from him, starting back to base, muttering to yourself about transfers to other teams who might care more. Ghost wraps his hand around your arm and pulls you to a stop.

"What, I make one comment, and you're just going to quit on us? What is actually going on, pet? Someone piss you off or something? Do I need to knock teeth out?"

"I... everyone forgot," you mumble. Ghost glances around to ensure you're alone and tugs you against his chest, rubbing your back. "I was in the shit and when I got back, nobody remembered my birthday." He freezes, hands cradling you.

"They forgot? How could they forget? Your birthday is always at the beginning of the mission season. I thought you guys had it when I was down range. I was gutted to have missed it. Sent you flowers as a sorry." His grip tightens to an almost painful level, and you grip back, remembering the beautiful bouquet that had been left for you without a note. "We will just have to make Soap and Captain pay for forgetting then." You glance up and see his eyes glimmering at you in the moonlight.

"We should probably find our way home first."

"Home, that sounds good." His phone suddenly goes off, making you jump. "Group text. 'SOS emergency meeting. Do not tell y/n.' They ain't even tryin' to be subtle at this point." He guides the two of you down the path, walking quick and assured. Within minutes, he is getting an avalanche of phone calls and texts to the point that he is tempted to throw it into the woods around you, but you turn it off and slip it into his pocket for him.

"Last time you threw one and broke it, Captain said he would glue the new one to your hand, and I'm pretty sure he was serious." Ghost ruffles your hair.

"That was a private meeting, Luv. How did you hear him say that?"

You scoff. "You'd be lucky if the entire fuckin' base didn't hear him tell you that with how loud he was shouting." He just chuckles and guides you both home. He drops you off at the women's barracks and storms into the team meeting, slamming the door into the wall.

"Finally you show up! We forgot y/n's birthday and we are planning a party to make up for it."

"No. You are not."

"What?! We can't just ignore it. We forgot! It's been months!"

"You're not going to force her to accept a pity party to make you feel better about what you did."

"Ghost, I know you hate parties, but she still deserves to know we care."

"So, show her. Before she makes good on transferring out. But no party. I will handle her party from now on since you fucks can't be trusted to remember." He walks out without another word, the room behind him in chaos.

"Why is he acting like he didn't forget, too?" Gaz asks incredulously.

"Because the bawbag didn't. He sent the mystery flowers that made her cry. It was right after he got back from down range. Can't believe I didn't catch it earlier."

Price stubs out his cigar. "So, no party. And she is thinking about leaving. We really cocked this one up, boys." He stands and walks to the door, pausing on the threshold. "No flowers, no gifts. Make it up to her. And Soap," he turns to look the Scottish man in the eye, "sleep with one eye open. Ghost is absolutely going to make us pay for making her cry." He walks away, no pep in his step, now.

"Cry? How does he know she cried?" Gaz seems baffled by the Captain's surety.

"Course she cried. Everyone does when they are forgotten or abandoned."

"Ghost doesn't, though. We never celebrate his birthday."

"We being the key there, mate. Remember last month when she shoved a new set of gloves and a mask at him? Told him the ones he was wearing were manky as fuck. That was his birthday gift." He runs a hand through his hair. "Anyway, I'm off. Need t'think about how I'm gonna beg forgiveness from both of 'em."

[elsweetheart]

Cant stop thinking abt dealer!ellie calling themselves a munch ever since you said it. Could totally see it being brought up in convo at a party or smth

hyperfixating over this rn

shotgun champion.

🎀 ok this was meant to be a little drabble and got out of hand. tw: ellie using the word munch. oh also, use of drugs and alcohol, mentions of dealing, lots and lots of silly dialogue, kind of rambly and domestic, gets a little horny at the end but not too bad. sigh i love dealer!ellie. ok enjoy

going to parties with ellie and your shared friends was always fun. you’d socialise for a little, and then always find eachother again — claiming a little corner to sit in as your own just enjoying eachothers company, drinking and gossiping. dina and jesse were always sure to bring laughter, and you loved being glued to ellie’s side, her attention only being stolen when someone would approach your shared table to buy weed from ellie or exchange details.

“alright, you—” jesse tossed a can her way, ellie nimbly catching it with both hands. “shotgun competition. unless of course you’re scared to lose infront of your girlfriend.” he tempted, raising an eyebrow as you and dina watched in amusement.

ellie glanced at you with a scoff, theatrically jutting a thumb in his direction. “this fuckin’ guy.” she joked lowly before turning back to him. “you’re so on.” she pat her pocket down for her key and jesse did the same.

“alright, williams. go!” the dark haired boy announced as they stabbed a dime sized hole into the can of beer with their keys, before bringing it to their mouths and tipping their head back. jesse’s drink pretty much exploded over his face immediately, making a real mess of himself as dina laughed, rolling her eyes.

“all that talk for nothing.” she shook her head at you and you giggled, but your eyes were on your girlfriend who effortlessly lapped up all the beer with zero mess. jesse stumbled, pulling the can away in defeat, wiping his face with the back of his hand as he laughed. ellie finished the can, chucking it to the ground dramatically and stomping on it. “ohhhh, fuck you.” she roared, sticking two fingers up at jesse before bringing her fist up to her mouth with a pained face, swallowing a burp.

“yeah yeah.” he chuckled shoving her hands away.

“who’s your fuckin’ daddy?” she joked, pretending to punch him in the face. he rolled his eyes, used to her arrogant antics.

“not mine. hers, maybe.” he nodded his head towards you jokingly and you felt yourself flush, stifling a shy giggle as ellie glanced at you with a chuckle. “hey, i don’t know if you know this but your loser girlfriend sits in her room and practices shotgunning just so she can beat me.” jesse nudges you, voice theatrically low as if telling you a secret but loud enough for everyone else to laugh along with the joke.

“okay, fuck you. can a girl not just have a skilled mouth?” she brushed him off, dropping back down into the seat beside you, legs falling open into her ellie-typical manspread. dina fanned herself jokingly, sending you an exaggerated wide eyed look.

“‘think i can guess what ellie’s been practicing on!” she poked your side and your eyes widened in embarrassment, feeling your face turn hot as you giggle.

“oh yeah, i’m definitely a munch. look at her, i’d be fuckin’ off my rocker not to.” she poked your waist, so casually like she didn’t just tell your small group of friends how enthusiastically she eats you out. you didn’t have time to react because her head whipped in the opposite direction. “oh shit, it’s danny!” she grinned, standing up to go and greet one of her most well paying customers. jesse and dina continued bantering back and forth, but you zoned out watching ellie. the way she exuded casual confidence, like she didn’t particularly know or care that she was exuding sex appeal, which made it all the more hotter.

you excused yourself to grab yourself another drink, needing to cool down before you start acting out of pocket and cut the night short to drag ellie back to her dorm and have her eat her words (literally.) you’d stopped to talk to a few girls from one of your classes, giggling and chatting together like you would in the back of the classroom. one of them, taller with her hair in a slick bun shifted on her feet like she wanted to speak up. when she got an in to speak, she took the chance.

“you’re dating ellie right?” she pointed a finger with a pensive frown. you felt a flush of pride wave over you as you nodded.

“yeah, why?”

“i’ve been looking for a new dealer, my old one got locked up.” she chuckled, eyes darting behind you. “is she taking new customers? exam season is killing me i’m totally desperate.” she furrowed her eyebrows anxiously and you turned your head to where she’d glanced, spotting ellie making her way slowly through the crowd towards you but continually being stopped by people making conversation with her. “i’d ask her but she’s kind of intimidating, i don’t know why! don’t tell her i said that.”

you laughed, as it wasn’t the first time you’d heard that and nodded in agreement. “oh my god, of course. let me bring her over.” you turned, standing on your tiptoes to catch your girlfriends attention through her small talk with a party goer, waving her over once you’d caught her eye. she excused herself, eyes flitting across your smiley classmates as she approached. she wrapped her arms around your waist from behind and you wriggled out slightly to present her to them.

“ellie, these are my classmates. one of them was actually hoping she could buy from you…” you look up at her sweetly and her brows raise in surprise for a millisecond before smiling at your small group.

“yeah, for sure. you want it now or do you just want my details… whatever you want.” she addressed the girl who’d stepped up shyly, making it clear she was the new customer.

“i literally have no cash on me right now, would it be cool to maybe get your… number?” her eyes darted to you, self aware of how it might have come across. “or whatever’s cool with you, i can totally just text you.” she spoke to you now and you smiled at her panic, shaking you head reassuringly. ellie chuckled, slightly awkward but polite as ever as she scratched the back of her neck.

“oh my gosh, no go for it. it’s her work phone.” you giggled girlishly, ellie pulling the phone she used to deal out of from her back pocket, handing it over to the girl to put her details in.

“i’ll text you when you can pick up, tomorrow afternoon sound cool?” ellie asked and the girl nodded.

“sure, thanks!” she smiled before turning to you. “thanks!” she repeat before ellie’s arms were back around your waist.

“if you don’t mind, i think i’m going to steal this one.��� ellie smiled politely, nodding to the girls and pulling you away as you waved. she weaved you through the drunk bodies, finding your own little corner. you placed your cup down and leant against the wall with a proud grin and she slowly closed in on you, her own charming smile visible. she pulled you close, practically caging you in against the wall.

“well, well, well— my little saleswoman.” she smirked, eyes flitting down to your mouth when you broke into giggles.

“she asked me about it! i wasn’t going around advertising your business or anything.” you shrugged humbly and she hummed with a nod.

“don’t believe you. i know you’re hiding a billboard with a picture of me on it somewhere, i’m onto you.” she joked, hands sliding back around your waist.

“please, word of mouth is everything these days.” you match her teasing energy, letting her pull your hips flush against yours making something stir in you below, reminding you of her little comment earlier. “speaking of mouth…” you gazed at hers, faces close and her eyebrows raised cockily.

“is it that time already, babe?” you could feel her warm breath on your face, and you could have sworn she had pushed her thigh ever so slightly between your legs.

“its always that time, munch.” you joked, making her laugh at the word leaving your mouth.

“what, don’t tell me you don’t think i qualify for such title.” she tilt her head, eyes flicking repeatedly to your lips as if beg for a kiss.

“no comment. think i might need a reminder…” you bat your lashes at her, eyes heavy from the horny creeping in and the alcohol in your system. she latched her smirking lips to yours impatiently, hands squeezing your waist keeping your pressed right to her.

ellie pulled back a few centimetres. “that, i can do.” she promised, kissing you again a few times before pulling back with a playful and suggestive expression. “wanna get out of here?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Daddy Lessons 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Rafe Cameron

Summary: You agree to tutor for the Cameron’s, but find your student less than cooperative.

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You slap your hand around Rafe’s wrist, panic surging in your throat. You can’t breathe. You bring your other hand up as you turn in the seat, trying to dislodge his grip as he squeezes tighter. So tight, you feel your eyes bulging.

You smack his shoulder desperately as tears fill the brims of your eyes and the chair tilts with your struggle. He lets you go as you wrench back and topple off the seat completely. Your back hits the floor and knocks the wind out of you a second time.

You wheeze and cough as your throat burns. Rafe chuckles as you hear the pages flutter and he throws the textbook. It lands on your stomach and you groan.

“Tell you what, dork, whatever my dad’s paying you to ‘teach’ me,” he puts a special lilt on teach, “I’ll pay you double to shut the fuck up. You sit there, do whatever it is nerds do and I’ll be on my phone.”

He kicks the chair as he gets up and stomps around the table. He resumes his seat on the other side as you sit up. He swipes his phone into his hand and goes back to flicking the screen with his thumb. You get up silently, holding back another wave of tears as you try not to shake. 

You pick up the book and bring the chair straight. You lower yourself onto the seat and put the textbook beside your laptop. You stare at the screen but can’t read the font. You’re terrified.

All those years, you saw Rafe swaggering down the halls, calling kids names, pushing the nerdiest of the punch into lockers, but he’d never hit a girl. Not openly, though he never had a problem bashing any boy smaller than him.

“If you’re gonna cry, keep it down,” he snickers, “you’re not hot enough for that.”

You blink and stare at the screen. What do you do? Pack up and go? Tell Ward it’s not going to work out. He’ll be disappointed but he can afford someone who wasn’t a former victim of his son’s high school foliies.

You close the laptop and grab your bag, tucking it inside quietly. You’ll just have to break the news to your parents. You’re unemployed, again. That didn’t last long. You hook your knapsack over your shoulder and stand.

“Giving up?” Rafe scoffs without looking up from his phone, “typical.”

You don’t say anything as you round the table and head for the door. Before you can step into the entryway, a searing pain in your scalp lurches you back. You cry out as Rafe drags you into the dining room and pens you in against the table. He fists your hair as he snarls at you.

“Don’t you fucking go tattling on me to daddy,” he growls. “Don’t be a little bitch and sit the fuck down.”

“Let me go–”

“I was fucking serious. I’ll pay you to mind your goddamn business. My dad wants me to read these damn books, so you tell him I read them,” he sneers, “but it’s gotta be fucking believable so go on and sit.”

“Rafe–”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” he spits, “I don’t wanna hear my name on your fucking lips.” You flinch as he yanks your hair, “we got a deal or what?” His eyes drift down to your striped tee shirt, “you could use the money.”

You gulp and glance past him. What other prospects do you have? Sit at home and face the music and have no money or sit here in silence until your time is up.

“Ow,” you squirm, “I– I’ll do it but– let me go.”

He abides as he rolls his eyes and shoves you away from him, “god, you’re fucking whiny.”

“I’m not… I’m not going to stay if you keep doing that–”

“Ah, come on,” he slurs, “tell me it doesn’t get you a little hot. I know you ain’t had other guys up on you.”

That hurts in a different way. You try not to show it as you back away from him. This isn’t a good idea. He’s not exactly stable and you don’t really trust him. Even if he doesn’t follow through, money is money. Besides, he seems more interested in that phone than you.

You go back around the table and sit. You pull the textbook close and Rafe narrows his eyes at you. You raise a palm, trembling despite your efforts.

“To make it convincing,” you say and exhale heavily.

He grumbles and drops back into his seat. You set your bag on the chair next to you and slip your laptop out once more. You pop it open and listlessly drag your finger over the trackpad. You still don’t have the wifi. Solitaire it is.

You yawn and lean your chin in your hand. The tension remains. It’s silent but for his occasional snort or mutter at his phone. He’s just the same as he ever was. The popular kid defiant to everyone and everything around him.

You wish you could be that reckless. Well, you can’t just fall back on daddy’s bank account. You have to work to get top marks just to afford your tuition, but the scholarships don’t pay for your books or your housing. That’s all up to you and what little your parents can scrape up after their own expenses.

As much as you hate his privilege, you envy it. Maybe you would be like him if you had that. Maybe you wouldn’t care either.

You click away at the cards, stacking one on top of the other. You look at the time. Not even twenty minutes in. You’re scheduled for two hours. This is actual torture, even triggering. The last thing you wanted to do was revert to high school. Graduation was the happiest day of your life because it meant you never had to see those people again.

Or so you thought.

Rafe chuffs and lets out a groan. You don’t look up. He’s already proven he’s unhinged, it wouldn’t surprise you if he had full conversations with himself. He knocks the table and another long drone escapes him. The table jolts a second time and your laptop bounces. You sit up to see above the screen.

Rafe aims his phone at his lap. The way his other arm you can tell he’s holding his… you know. What the hell?!

You’re too embarrassed to call him out. You hope at least he doesn’t actually have it out. Oh god, he really has no shame. 

You win and the cards stream down in celebration. Rafe makes another noise. A deep rasp that catches in his throat. Your skin is on fire. You should have left. 

“Uh, where’s the bathroom?” You ask as you get up.

“Dammit,” he growls as he pumps his arm furiously. Is he– “I’m about to–”

Your mouth falls open and you stumble. You panic and quickly turn, nearly sprinting into the kitchen. You stagger through another doorway and down a hallway. You find a half bath and lock yourself inside.

You can’t unsee what you just saw. Why would he do that right there across from you? He’s sick and twisted!

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Jason is bothering you, he's determined to get to Eddie through you and does his best to annoy you and get you down. You hide this from Eddie but he finds out.

Angst with a happy ending. Protective Eddie.

💞

Jason had been annoying you all week.

At first it was just stupid taunts in the hallway, taunts you would ignore by holding your head high and walking away. You rarely gave the asshole the time of day.

Unless he was pissing off your boyfriend Eddie, then you had no problem letting Jason know what you thought of him.

Yesterday and today had been different from Jason's usual taunts though. Yesterday he was borderline hostile and when you walked past him, he made sure to stick his foot out so you fell to the floor.

The fall had caused bruising on your knees and you were torn between humiliation and fury. What the hell was that douchebag's problem?

Today has been even worse. Jason specifically sought you out to pick at you and upended the contents of his milkshake on you.

He left you shaking with tears and covered in the liquid. He actually smirked and laughed, then walked away as if it was no big deal.

Robin saw everything and helped clean you up but you were still shaky and nervous about what Jason would do next. Fuck, if you told Eddie he would hit the roof.

You decided to keep this to yourself for now.

💞

It's hard to not tell Eddie anything because Jason's taunts and the fact that your legs are aching. You've been trying to relax with Eddie but Jason's words keep playing on your mind and Eddie is suspicious about the bruising on your legs. You can tell he doesn't buy that you tripped.

"Sweetheart, are you sure you're okay? I can feel something is wrong. I know my princess and I know you're down" tears pool in your eyes and Eddie's hands tighten around your waist.

He gently wipes your tears away, feels his heart clench at you being upset.

"Sweetheart, please tell me what's wrong?" He hates seeing you cry, it physically pains him and if he finds out the reason, if someone has made you upset then there will be hell to pay.

"Jason, he's been annoying me all week and the last few days he's been really bad. He tripped me up and I have bruising on my knees, he poured his milkshake on me and has just been a dickhead all week"

Eddie freezes, hot fury pools in his body and he's shaking. He's never felt this pissed off in his life.

Jason could do whatever he wanted to him but you? His girl, his princess. You were off limits.

He will deal with Jason tomorrow. For now he's going to make sure that you're okay. He gently pulls you onto his lap and presses tender kisses to your lips and forehead.

"Eddie?, you're not going to do anything rash are you?" You're peering up at him anxiously and he soothes you for a few seconds.

"Don't you worry princess, everything will be okay"

💞💞

Eddie wastes no time in finding Jason the next day, he's laughing with his friends and Eddie stalks up to them and one look from him sends them scurrying away.

"What's up freak?" Jason smirks at him and that pisses Eddie off even more.

"Heard you've been bothering my girl asshole"

Eddie smirks as Jason pales. Good, he hopes the asshole is scared.

Jason feels his blood run cold. That smirk is full of cold fury and he realises how much he's fucked up.

"You go near my girl again, you touch even one hair on her head and there will be hell to pay. You hear me?" Jason snorts and Eddie's eyes narrow.

"I mean it Carver. I am not a violent person but I will make an exception for you dickhead" Jason seems to get the hint and he visibly shrinks under Eddie's death glare then hurries off.

With that sorted and enough time wasted on Carver he heads away to find you.

💞💞

Jason walks around with his tail between his legs all week and yet he says nothing. You don't realise that Eddie scared the crap out of him, you're just thankful Jason is leaving you in peace.

You snuggle into Eddie and he kisses your forehead, he flips the bird to Jason and dotes on you for the rest of the day.

Jason doesn't bother you again. Not with Eddie the Brave at your side.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Radioactive Apocalypse

The constant upset and warring provinces have prepared the world for the worst. Before the blowout, many thought it wise to pay for a bunker for the oncoming atomic apocalypse. Most of the population couldn’t afford to do so, let alone believe that it would be needed. 

They’d be wrong.

Whether you are one of the unsuspecting public or a passive believer, average day life doesn’t have you safely tucked in a bunker when the initial alarms go off. You are smooshed against others in a large crowd all watching and listening in awe. But the moment one person screams it's all over. The crowd twists and turns pulling you in no specific direction. As the final alarms ring out an arm pulls you through the chaotic crowd and into a bunker full of others reeling at the recent events. So here you find that you are trapped safely in the stifling and well-furnished  Atomic Bunker. 

“Who pulled me in here?”

“Does it matter! You survived the initial blast, didn’t you? Ungrateful twat.”

“No need to be hostile, little brother. It's natural to be vexed after watching the world end. Right in front of you.”

“Oh, all those poor souls!”

“My lady, your handkerchief.”

“My baby! My baby! I didn’t grab them! Oh, my poor baby!”

“There there, we’re all very shaken up—”

“B-b-b-but y-y-y-your still smiling—.”

“We are all dealing with the pain in different ways. But let's all take a breather and relax.”

“You don’t sound all that upset to me either.”

“I can say the same thing to you, but I guess you’re just happy to be off the streets, right?’

“Oi!”

Hearing the cacophony of such a colorful cast distracts from the initial fear. Their voices remind you that you're not suffering like the rest of those unfortunate people. They allow you to cry with an audience of fellow mourners and those who can keep calm easily. Before you can let the silence set in, they pull you back with their bickering. It's always either one or two of them that is always voicing their concerns. There’s always a voice of reason, something you’re grateful for as you desperately search for a distraction. 

“Everyone! I believe introductions are in order! I am the middle child of the Penz household as well as the main manager of the bunker.”

With a blonde head of hair and a funky sense of style, his smile persists. Uvil Penz is an interesting guy as you’ll come to find. Aside from smiling during the ongoing onslaught of atomic warfare he always has a way of looking on the bright side for better or worse. 

“Oh, my baby!” 

“Now please miss dry your tears, there are plenty of toys down here to distract yourself with.”

His optimism is surely unique as you can’t quite place where it may stem from. On one hand, you could see it as an unemotional response with an attempt to soothe. But you’ll see him laugh genuinely or offer insight into a person’s emotions. On the other hand, it may come from a sly condescending perspective. It fits right along with his brothers’ behavior. But the way he works to compliment you often, attempting to keep your spirits high, or how he’ll make a request for your favorite foods to be scavenged makes you think otherwise. 

“(Y/n)?”

“Huh? Uh yeah?”

“Did ya know: you’re gorgeous even with those tear streaks on your face.”

“What?”

“I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I think you really needed to hear that now.”

Or maybe that’s just you because you have a hard time believing Uvil trying to be soothing when he’s smiling widely after making someone cry. But it's hard to be decisive about liking or disliking the blonde as he could very well be the one who grabbed your wrist and pulled you in. On top of that, he allows everyone to stay even as opportunity knocks on the bunker door. As long as you don’t mind his ever-present smile and disconnected sympathy life will be great.

“I, Uvil Penz welcome you to the Penz bunker. Now little brother, go on. Introduce yourself.”

“Eugh! Get off me! Ugh, my name’s William and I know this bunker better than anyone else. So better learn to respect me!” 

He’s certainly not like his brother. At least not on the surface. With black short hair and a disgusted sneer constantly on his face. He doesn’t bother comforting anyone at least not in the typical way. Any advice or comfort is said through gritted teeth or with an annoyed click of his tongue.

“Look, if yer gonna keep crying do it in one of the soundproof rooms. You're bothering those of us who want to think!”

Not to mention he’s the first to point out your insecurities or make fun of you for grieving at all. Don’t worry you’re not the only one, he goes just as hard if not harder on everyone else. Making sure everyone is well aware that the whole group knows of their problems. Usually snickering or outright laughing at whoever he’s decided to victimize. At one point, everyone will be annoyed with him. As much as he loves to boast about it he is the only one who knows how to maintain the bunker. 

“Gosh, you are such a pain in the–”

“Don’t forget who knows how to start up the generator…so unless you want to enjoy life without lights, you’ll put your fists down.”

“Ugh! Fine.”

“Thank you…meathead.”

“YOU LITTLE-”

Despite his arrogance, his snarky jabs, and the weirdly endearing way he seeks you out the atomic apocalypse wouldn’t be the same without him. For as annoying and degrading as he may be, he’s still willing to share his switch with you when you’re feeling particularly bored. Making sure you can’t see his face when he pokes the controller against your cheek. 

“Come on. You’re bored aren’t you?”

“You…want me to play with you?”

“Well duh! So…are you?”

“I-I’d love to!”

Not to mention he knows the cheat codes to all the games in the arcade room. And if you do him small favors he’ll share his limited edition ramen with you. Now he may ask for your undergarments or your toothbrush but that’s nothing in the endless days spent in the bunker. After all, it's better than the atomic aftermath out there and according to the only Penz willing to go out there, you wouldn’t last a day.

“Well, my introduction’s done. Marc!”

“Yeah yeah, ‘sup everyone. I’m Marco.”

The eldest of the Penz brothers is concerningly nonchalant from the very beginning of your stay in the bunker. With his girlfriend on his arm and an easy-going attitude, he doesn’t really bother to comfort anyone other than her. Except maybe you. 

“Hey didn’t take you for a late-night snacker. You okay?”

“I’m—fine, excuse me.”

“Whoa whoa, lil’ bunny. Don’t run away just yet, the wolf has questions.”

“Please just–I’ll go back to the room.”

“Nah-ah sit bunny.”

“But you took the only chair.”

“Right here, bunny. We’ve got all night.”

Supposedly, he was quite the womanizer before he got with his current girlfriend. Will makes a point to mention it anytime anyone you is found flustered or flattered by his attention. Even so, he doesn’t let that stop him from caging you against the bunker walls to ask for something. Or teasing you when he retrieves something from outside the bunker. 

“Come on just grab it.”

“Why are you holding it there? Just hand it to me normally!”

“So rude. I don’t feel like complying with a fussy bunny who doesn’t use their words.”

“Ugh! Fine. Please just hand it to me normally.”

“Ha no.”

“WHY NOT?!”

“It’s perfectly fine just grab it, babe. I don’t mind if you touch me along the way.”

For all his teasing and carefree behavior, he’s a good scavenger. Able and willing to brave the atomic wasteland when the bunker needs supplies. He’s strong and prepared to take on any unruly travelers who come by or intervene during scavenger hunts. 

He’s not all that opinionated when it comes to debates in the bunker. More excited to grab a snack and watch the chaos unfold. Smiling lightly as things get heated and tensions rise. In that way, he’s like an idle NPC but the second his boundaries are crossed then you have to deal with the rare and angry Will. 

“C-calm down Will…y-your not going to k-kill him right?”

“He’s the one who thought inviting our bunker-mates to play in that wasteland was a good idea.”

“Honey, it’s okay! (Y/n) didn’t actually go, right? So it’s okay, right Fin?”

“Yes, my lady is correct.”

It’s just better for everyone that no one gets on his bad side. And that everyone doesn’t mess with the things that make him happy: His peace, his girlfriend's peace, and your peace the happiness of specific bunker mates.

“Oh yeah, this my girl.”

“Um hello everyone. My name is Aria, Aria Mensloth. Marco was the one who brought me here.”

“Lucky you, I bet he’s the only one willing.”

“...Oh uhm yes I am quite grateful. I hope we can all get along.”

Aria is the sheltered blue-haired girlfriend of the eldest Penz brother. Opposites attract because, despite his immense uncaring personality, she’s generally more caring. Trying to check up on everyone she can even if her privileged life brings more misunderstandings than intended. 

“You seem upset, is it perhaps because you skipped breakfast this morning?”

“Uh no.”

“Oh well, for me this is a bigger change from the usual three-course breakfast I’m used to.”

“Okay…”

“Do you not know what that is like?”

She has the best intentions but she’s still learning. Too bad for her the ones in this bunker she is familiar with don’t bother correcting her or informing her unless directly asked. Her boyfriend would sooner chuckle and play with her hair than fill in the blanks. Her butler refuses to say much else than what is needed. So guess who she decides to attach herself to? You, of course. You're the most normal lovely bunker mate around and you don’t immediately insult her when she seeks to shadow you as you navigate your life in the bunker. 

“Ah, so you pick your own clothes out. How fascinating!” 

“Uhm Aria don’t you do the same?”

“Oh no, my butler picks everything out for me. It’s always been that way.”

“Oh…Would you want to try picking out your own clothes, sometime?”

“For myself? Oh no, I’m far too inexperienced….but maybe I could help pick out your outfits!”

“Wait–”

“Does that sound like a good idea, Butler Fin? Can we do it?”

“I see no problem with that my lady.”

“Oh good!”

As Will’s girlfriend, she’s an important person to keep happy. Wouldn’t want to deny her, especially when her beloved boyfriend is working so hard for the rest of the bunker. Not to mention her butler with an ominous gaze who is more than willing to exact her every wish. No matter how invasive it is to your privacy. You’ll have to be careful with your words. Wouldn’t want to make her cry...right?

“Aria, don’t.”

“Ari! Call me Ari!” 

“Ari sorry okay! I just don’t want to bathe with you, so please get off.”

“Y-you’re not trying to leave me, are you?! Didn’t Uvil tell us not to waste any supplies!? So please let me join!”

For as pushy as Aria can be, calling her out on her behavior or offering to tattle on her to her boyfriend usually gets her off your back. But where she lacks persistence, her butler makes up for it. 

“Hello everyone, I am the Mensloth Butler Finster. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Finster or Fin, is like any depiction of a dutiful butler come to life. Even with the threat of the atomic apocalypse, he’s still maintaining his mistress throughout. He doesn’t talk much outside of responding to Aria and occasionally the Penz brothers. 

“...”

“Look butler-man, if you’re goin’ to make breakfast why not feed us all?”

“...”

“Butler Fin.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Can you make breakfast for Will, (Y/n), and me?”

“Yes, of course, my lady.”

“Wow….really?!”

You’ll find when he’s alone he can speak without addressing his mistress only when he wants to. But he seems to enjoy your company, especially during the night cycle when Aria is fast asleep. He smiles openly with you, cracking jokes about the day he appeared numb to before. 

“Well, it seems as though you were right about them. Fighting with each other like chickens in a coop.”

“Right? I thought I’d be the only one who noticed.”

“Please your observations are hardly wrong, it helps that we can talk like this with each other. Helps us remember how to communicate. I really appreciate that you’re willing to.”

“Oh uh, no problem I like talking to you too..”

“No, thank you (Y/n). I doubt I could hold any level of sanity if it weren’t for you.”

When push comes to shove, he is capable of holding his own in a debate. His actions can be interpreted as that of a selfless and devoted butler. But it can also be read as that of someone with their own agenda—something practically impossible to decipher by his behavior alone.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for (Y/n) to leave the bunker, either.”

“Y-your actually s-s-speaking? On your own?”

“Well, I bet it’s only because he wants his master lady to not cry like a baby!”

“Was that your intention, Finnster?”

“...My lady, is my top priority at all times.”

It’s a nice illusion though, that he’d be a somewhat normal character, considering he’s often the only one whom you can hold a normal conversation with, without walking away thinking he’s obsessed with you. But his actions do. Oftentimes, watching his behavior without his explanation would make anyone worry.

“Excuse me?”

“I just wanted to ask about you pushing Aria that one time. Why would you do that?”

“Push? Push?! Oh no you’ve got it all wrong, I was attempting to support her back as we looked at the sewer. She did lose her footing but as you saw Marco and I caught her all the same.”

“Oh okay sorry, for misjudging.”

“It’s fine, though I’d be quick to forgive if you joined in some baking with me.”

Always good at conversation, and always willing to help, Butler Finn is a friend to confide in. Someone to talk to about the odd behaviors and conversations you've had with others. One of the other ones you can talk to about this would be your resident walking encyclopedia. 

“H-h-h-hi e-e-everyone I’m S-S-Simpson G-G-g-gron, Will b-b-brought me here.”

He’s like a stereotype incarnated, listing off all sorts of facts you would have never found yourself dedicated to remembering. With a stutter at the beginning of every sentence, Simpson refuses any sort of leadership, very similar to Will’s approach. Rather than having a bonafide position to argue when debates happen he prefers to chime in with what he knows for sure. 

“Look, the sooner we head out. The sooner we can all actually eat something real.”

“But you realize what the risk of leaving may mean, right?”

“The world burned away! Yeah, I got it.”

“A-a-a-actucally I think Uvil sir is r-r-referring to radiation posioning.”

“What?!” 

“The atomic b-b-b-bomb is not only the bringer of destruction, b-b-b-but a disease bringer.”

When he’s not bringing up important information he’s hanging around Will, stuttering a lot less and talking technically with one another. While Will is prickly, he’s able to properly articulate what he knows while also hurting your feelings. Simpson on the other hand…just can’t. It’s something you’ll try working with him on but once he gets going he just can’t stop.

“Okay let’s try this—why should I consider learning code?”

“Well…i-i-it’ll help y-y-y-you understand the programs you use the m-m-m–m-m-most?”

“Good. Now how so?”

“Well..learningtheintricaciesofcodingwillnotonlyallowyoutomanipulateyourownprograms–”

“Okay—now hold on–”

“Butintheendlearningthecodecsnotonlyallowanyonetoknowthesourcesofthewebsitesthatfunctionwithai–”

“Hey-wait!”

“IsitnotwisetolearnwhattheoneswhowillsurvivethistragedyworkthroughyoureyeslookasenchantingaseverAnywaythereallanguagetheyworkwithnowisbinarycodebutthatshouldn’tbe.”

“And there he goes.”

The real advantage of this though is his ability to return the favor of listening to his rambles. He happily listens to yours and comes with questions you’d only find yourself answering in an imaginary interview. But the adoring indigo-green gaze behind those iconic square glasses makes it impossible not to appreciate him. Not to mention, he and Will are the only two who religiously compete with you in the arcade room.

“Ack–that move is illegal!”

“Actually it's quite the opposite, really. This is the rule within the actual manual of the game’s lore–”

“Yeah, (Y/n) don’t be a crybaby you didn’t do your studying.”

“But you hid all the gaming manuals from me!” 

“Well, you are the one who bet something unspecified of yours. It would be unwise not to sabotage you.”

“Ack-! To be admitting it so openly!”

“No use lying about our tactics now that we are guaranteed a win.”

As the most obvious voice of reason, it isn’t a bad idea to be in his good graces. It also makes it harder to believe your own observations when you listen to his. Able to look at the bigger picture while you only have your snapshot or so he says. 

“But doesn’t this kind of product, have dire consequences for eating past the expiration date? And wasn’t there some craze about the aphrodisiac effects it has?”

“That’s a widely spread misconception, the craze was actually about the dopamine rush from the expired product.”

“Really? I’m pretty sure I remember the fanfics celebrating the stuff.”

“You are mistaken!”

“Uh okay.”

So if there’s anyone to rely on it’d be him. He may not be able to care for you as well as some of the others in the bunker. Or be as concerned as others but he’s trying his best. Of course, others may not even heed any of his efforts. Then again some of them hold themselves very highly. 

“Oh, my baby!”

“Miss are you okay to talk or–”

“My name’s Henrietta Spitz! What’s your name?”

“Uhm (Y/n).”

“(Y/n)! Oh (Y/n) I’m so sad!” 

Henrietta is probably one of the oddest characters in the bunker. Known as the distraught young mother who was dragged in by one of the…good samaritans within the bunker. If you aren’t swallowed by grief you’ll be swallowed by hers because she doesn’t let anyone forget what she’s gone through. 

“Wahhh~(Y/n) can I sleep with you?!”

“Uhm why would you need to?”

“I used to sleep with my baby at night. It’d just help me loads if your warm soft body next to mine.”

“Just like your…baby?”

“Yes, just like them~!”

But when she’s not wailing into your chest about her lost child, she’ll start up with a new…grieving routine. One that revolves around you drinking her milk…right from the tap that is. You want to argue with her–put a stop to this weird practice that she seems deadset that you be the only participant. But she cries aaalllll the time. If she isn’t set on fussing over you or forcing you to ‘help’ her grieving she whines and screams bothering everyone in the bunker. So you’ll take one for the team…right?

“I-I have milk for everyone!”

“ We have rations Miss so it's not an issue.”

“B-b-but we might run out! It’ll stop coming if it’s not drunken up!”

“Then perhaps the breast pump you had in your bag would be helpful.”

“B–b-but to keep this up I need to have a hungry mouth on there. It just won’t be the same.”

On top of that, her fleeting sadness for her child seems to conveniently leave her countenance the second it’s too inconvenient. It’s not all that obvious at first, easily being written off as her healing grief. But when she uses it for her own agenda so obviously it’s a little hard to take her seriously.

“STOP CLINGING TO (Y/N)!”

“Nooo! I want them to spend time with me!”

“It isn’t healthy to keep them locked up in your room like this. And (Y/n) you want to leave, don’t you? Finally, get to stretch your legs?”

“Yeah, I–”

“You can’t!”

“Why not?”

“I-I-I-My baby!?”

“What?”

“If you leave, the thoughts of my baby will come back and I just can’t bear it. (Y/n) please!”

Some will argue that what she’s doing is projecting her idea of her baby onto you. That she’s stuck in a psychosis that revolves around the one who she feels is meek enough to baby. But a grieving mother who would be projecting wouldn't do what she does. Everyone grieves differently but it’s the nature of her advancements that might lead anyone to suspect she’s not as motherly as she seems.

“Oh~(Y/n)~!”

“Yes?”

“Did you know something else my baby did?”

“Uhm what?”

“They’d let me wash them all over. And give kisses to me–”

“Okay.”

“On the mouth with an open mouth!”

“Okay? And?!”

It raises some concerning questions and speculations about her story. And how she was able to make it inside the bunker when everyone separately admits they did no such thing as lead her in. Or how she often mixes up the name of the child she seems so stuck on grieving. 

At the end of the day, she’s friendly to you…and maybe only you. She’s quick with her own insults the second anyone goes to question her or make their suspicions known. That and she seems to wryly refer to some hidden piece of information that keeps everyone from encroaching on her behavior. 

With all that being said. She’s definitely not one to forget for her attention to you, barely rivaled by the self-appointed scavenger and protector of you+ the bunker.

“I’m Grant and that’s all you need to know for now. I’ve got questions.”

“Ask a way, Grant.”

“Why do you even have this big of a bunker?”

“Is it so bad that we thought of comfort before the world’s end?”

“...I don’t buy it.”

If there was someone you’d expect to be the main character of some dystopian novel it’d be him. Cynical, confident, and muscled like no other, he becomes the bunker’s prime protector. Despite openly not trusting the Penz brothers he is the first to demand they do something when problems arise. While he’ll sooner croak than admit he relies on them, he does often light the fire for action from the prickly trio. 

“So what are you going to do about this?”

“Hm? Are you acknowledging me as the leader now?”

“No, but if everyone else has already I’d rather not rock the boat.”

“How benevolent of you!”

“Grrr.”

Hotheaded but not impulsive Grant becomes a significant facet of the group. Especially since the bunker needs more supplies. Brave and bold enough he’s willing to dawn the Hazmat suit and venture into the rumored wasteland that remains. It helps that he goes out of his way to help you settle and find your stance as the world goes through change.

“Hey. Here's some of the stuff I brought back. From the address you gave me.”

“Grant! This is-! I’m so surprised it even survived!”

“There wasn’t too much left but it was small enough and I thought it would survive the cleaning process.”

“Grant, really thank you!”

“...I-it’s no problem, you’re just lucky the blast didn’t damage it all too much.”

You’ll find he’s a compassionate guy at heart hardened by some terrible past he occasionally alludes to. But that harsh exterior tends to make up most of his image. Which can often lead to the group having…misconceptions about his personality.

“For a stupid delinquent that guy’s awful complex.”

“Speak for yourself! He keeps trying to tell me what to do!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah! He said the time I spend hanging out with (Y/n) is unhealthy! What a nosy brat, criticizing my grieving process.”

“...Whatever."

The animosity for certain members of the bunker would become all too clear for you as the days pass. Such behavior is natural for those trapped in the same tight quarters. The same tight quarters that you can’t seem to leave; forced to watch these characters destroy themselves as they fight over something you.+ 

“Oh, guess it's my turn my name’s–”

“We’re happy you're here (Y/n).”

“Yes, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” 

“Nice to make your acquaintance.”

“We are all happy to meet you, (Y/n)!”

“Pft, suck-ups. Welcome, I guess.”

“I-I-I-I-I hope w-w-we can be close.”

“Oh (Y/n), you remind me so much of my lost little love! C’mere!”

“Hey Guys! Give them space!” 

The coming months will certainly be almost as chaotic as the world’s declining state. With your new family den of lions, surely there’s a sliver of a chance that you’ll thrive in the radioactive apocalypse. 

It’s best you start documenting your adventure now….

[navstuffs]

A moment forever ago

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: In an elevator, a moment forever ago, Leon might have found the love of his life. But it was over forever ago.

Warning tags: SONGFIC, PAIN PAIN, ANGST, hurt/some/no comfort, in italics are the song lyrics, happens during an elevator ride, love in first sight

Author's Notes: song fic 100% based on A Moment Forever Ago from the show called Central Park. my recommendation? you should read this fic as you listen to the music that inspired! every time i write angst fanfic i wonder if im going to outdo myself (creep, emptiness, ghost of you, the tragedy of leon s. kennedy) and honestly, i always try to break everyone's heart. you be the judge if i did it worse (or better)!

my leon's masterlist

It is hard to say if love at first sight exists. Some say it is pure bull, a stupid idea, whereas romantics try to find theirs on every street corner of a supermarket aisle. Leon Kennedy is neither of those. He doesn't have time for the whole arrangement of being a couple and ardently in love with someone.

He was probably destined to end it alone, which was a better deal for everyone, especially himself. But life happens to everyone, and even Agent Kennedy isn't immune to that.

"There was a moment forever ago

That keeps me up on quiet nights

And flickers like a pilot light"

It happens during a stupid elevator ride, during which nothing important ever happens. Leon is on the 28th floor of a hotel, returning from another exhausting mission, thinking when it is finally time to give up, change his name, and run away to some forgotten island in the middle of nowhere where no one would ever find him. He could change his name to Lucius Kelly. He would let his hair and beard grow, live peacefully with a farm and tons of chickens and pigs, and never return to the city, instead drinking coconut water and getting tanned the whole day.

The elevator door opens, and Leon finds himself face-to-face with you. You stand in the middle of the elevator, more to the left, not lifting your eyes as he enters. You are too focused on your thoughts, in a distant point of this reality. Leon stands on your other side, trying to give you the privacy not to stare, but he looks at you again with a sudden interest.

Staring at a fixated point in the elevator's doors, not acknowledging his presence. You don't seem the kind who will strike up a conversation or ask about the weather, nothing like that, which generally Leon didn't like. With a blank expression, you stare at the doors, which shouldn't intrigue Leon as much, but it does.

There is just something about you, and he can't quite place it.

The elevator bell dings and Leon's attention is momentarily drawn to a businessman walking in, ignoring both of you and standing near the door, too busy on his phone closing deals. When Leon quickly gives you a look, he glimpses your head, quickly turning to the wall on your side. As if you are caught staring back at him, too.

"A moment forever ago

That makes me wait through memories"

You are probably thinking he is a creep, Leon thinks. Exemplar behavior from a US agent, Mr. Kennedy, goggling at someone like that. But he can't help himself to look again, noticing you playing with the sleeve of your hoodie, a slight movement to someone who isn't paying enough attention. But Leon is. He figures it is a tiny nervous tick you develop to cope with stressful situations. You are enigmatic, ordinary to common eyes, but not to him. Beautiful in your own way. The elevator's door opens again, and a couple walks in, smiling and occupying the space in front of Leon. Leon gives them extra space, bumping his arm against yours. He quickly apologizes, but you don't seem to care, simply looking at your shoes. 

"But when I look back, all that I can find

Is that moment forever ago

Was it over forever ago?"

Elevator rides shouldn't take more than two or three minutes, but this one is surely taking longer than it should. More people enter the elevator (was there a convention of some sort in this place?), causing Leon's body to get closer to yours, his arm touching yours. He no longer apologizes, maintaining his eye on the door, hoping it can open. That's when he feels the light brush on the palm of his hand.

"Now that moment forever ago

Is home to more than one regret

A recurring sad vignette"

Or was it all his imagination? Maybe just a phantom feeling of a warm touch, a deep desire from his chest. It had to be your touch; it had to be because no one else was so close to him right now. Feeling his face burn and acting like his young self, Leon is ready to listen to your apology that never comes. He looks at you sideways, but still no reaction. He can't figure out your expression. It could have been just a figment of his imagination, desperate for human comfort. Jesus, Leon is miserable. Pitiful, an idiot.

It is the 10th floor now, and Leon suddenly sees himself asking for your name. Your phone number. He imagines your voice, the sound of your laugh. What are your hobbies, your passions, your favorite songs? The one you scream so loud from the bottom of your heart, the one who makes you cry like a baby. Leon sees him wanting something for the first time in his miserable life since Raccoon City, something that could change his life, something that only he, Leon Kennedy, could have. Something that could be his and only his.

"And that moment has taught me to know

That I can't let this one slip by me"

The elevator door suddenly dings again, and everyone starts leaving, you and Leon are the last ones. You give him a quick look as he stands his arm, letting you pass, and you exit as he follows right behind you. As Leon directs to the reception, you walk toward the exit, side by side arms brushing each other, a way to prolong this moment as long as you can. When it's finally time to depart, you look at him straight into his eyes. 

"I—" His "I" comes out so soft, so low you could pretend not to hear it.

Silence. No word comes out of your mouth, and no word comes out of his mouth. There is no one around you two. The world stops spinning, just you and him, and he can't bring himself to speak, as do you. A long moment passes, during which Leon waits for you to say something, anything, and you wait for the same. Leon wonders if you are imagining your future with him, as he imagines his with you. And Leon knows you do the same because your eyes are getting wet, and you finally stop playing with your shirt sleeve.

The moment passes, and you turn around, leaving the hotel, not looking back.

Leon doesn't follow you. He watches as you leave; probably the last time he will see you. He knows he shouldn't drag anyone into his life, his mess. Leon sighs. Maybe the romantic idiots aren't such idiots, and love at first sight could exist, who knows? Perhaps he isn't so cursed at all, he realizes with a tiny hint of a smile, walking towards the reception to check out. Because if it happens once, it could happen again, right?

"Or else it's sure to also be

A moment forever ago"

[dumplingsfordays]

patching you up

blade x injured!gn!reader

genre - fluff

summary - blade patches you up after you got injured while fighting mara.

cw!: mentions of blood + injury, soft-ish!blade, ooc blade?, mention of blade's past life which idfk how it works lmao I should be paying attention to the storyline asjdnb, swearing, mutual pining

note - god damn. soft!blade is living in my head rent-free fr, can't get enough of him <33 I'm not usually an edgy-emo-boy fan but ig blade's just built different 💪💪

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

With each painful cough, more and more thin splatters of blood painted your mouth crimson.

It hurt. A lot. You didn't expect it to hurt nearly as bad as it did when you charged in to fight the Mara that was attacking some people that were making their way through Cloudford, but the spear that their captain had used to stab through your side was probably coated in some sort of poison, because with every sluggish step you took, you felt your body break little by little. Eventually, you collapsed onto the cold ground - your torso was numb and soon your arms and legs would be as well.

Well, at least you were going to die somewhere pretty. The sunset glimmered through the leaves of thin trees growing from large pots, which were scattered across the various bridges of the district. Starskiffs drifted lazily across the sky like regal ships on the high seas and the last thing you heard before you closed your eyes for a while was the sound of crickets and footsteps fading in.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

"Finally fucking awake."

A harsh voice came from your side as you opened your extremely tired eyes, which were met with dim but warm lighting and a dark wooden ceiling.

"Can't believe you got into this mess," the voice continued as you felt something tightening around your waist. "Didn't think that you'd be so stupid."

His face flashed in your hazy mind and you tried to sit up. "...Blade, I-"

"Don't move. You'll make it worse."

Hands. Ice-cold, gruff, but gentle hands pushed you back into your previous position by your shoulders, and you felt the tightening feeling again shortly after.

"What are you doing?" you whispered, then coughed again. Your throat was so dry - it felt like you haven't drank in decades, and with each cough you swore that your lungs were going to fly out of your mouth at the sheer force.

"Fixing you, obviously."

You raised your neck to try and catch a glimpse of your wounds but saw only the top of Blade's head, his raven hair tied back in a low ponytail. He was bent over your side, and just as you lowered your head back to the pillow a sharp bolt of pain shot through you, making you hiss and wince.

"That hurt!"

"It'll pass," he replied almost too casually. "Deal with it."

An uncomfortable pause ensued, during which you finally figured out that he was bandaging your torso up. You'd never expected anyone to find you back there, much less a Stellaron Hunter that you'd only interacted with five or six times, but thank the Aeons that at least someone did. But you did think it was strange that he was doing this for you, because from all your two-or-three-word conversations, you were sure that he wasn't the type to help an almost complete stranger. In fact, you'd think that he would be the one to cause these injuries in the first place.

While you were staring up at the ceiling in deep thought, Blade was lowkey kind-of admiring your skin. You weren't going to look down at him again anyway, it seems that you'd learned your lesson, but that just allowed him to eye your softness in more detail. This was his chance - he'd been admiring you from afar ever since you first met, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity to see what you looked like close-up pass.

Before he knew what he was doing, Blade's fingers reached out to lightly press onto skin that was near your wound, at which you hissed and leaned away from his touch.

"You sure that you're actually healing me?" you asked.

"Yes. I know what I'm doing, trust me."

He continued to press curiously but gently, making sure not to hurt you on purpose. Your skin was fascinating to him - it was soft, warm, while his was unforgivingly cold; yours had a fascinating shade of life about it and his didn't. This contrast was what made his eyes widen a little everytime he made physical contact with you, and he found small differences like these to amount to vast ones overall. Maybe this is what always made him think that you came from a different world entirely.

Blade then noticed that your hand was trembling by your side - the painkillers must be wearing off. He stood up from the chair beside the bed on which you were resting and reached for a couple pills and a glass of water on a nearby counter, moving them to the bedside table. His hands felt your back as he sat you up to administer the medicine.

You now saw where you were - from what you could tell, it was a small house or apartment somewhere. Dark wood covered the walls, ceiling, and floor, and tapestries and thriving plants littered the environment. You didn't know that he had a green thumb, but now that you did, you felt safer somehow - what if this cold, distant man was more human than you'd originally thought him to be?

His lithe, cold fingers brought you back to reality as they rested under your jaw, pulling it open gently, and your eyes focused on his admittedly quite handsome face again. Crimson eyes, the color of a blood moon, stared intensely at yours in avid concentration before travelling back to his other hand, which was now lifting a glass of sparkling golden liquid to your lips. There was a certain reverence of sorts glimmering in his expression, and this was accompanied by the fact that he was treating you like he would a glass flower. Your lips finally met the rim of the glass and when you finally tasted the elixir, you sighed.

It was cool and sweet, a refreshing sensation that battled the humidity of the room and the pain in your side. You drank the entire glass with ease and after Blade set it down on the bedside table, he wiped away some stray droplets of the shining liquid with a rough thumb.

That was it - Blade had become an entirely person just now. You could see it in his eyes and feel it as he breathed: this was not the same person who happened to be walking by a person on their deathbed and had enough pity in their secluded heart to heal them. He treated you like an old friend or a partner, perhaps, by taking you in.

"You'll experience drowsiness soon," he mentioned, "don't feel like you can't sleep. I won't leave you."

You laughed lazily in return, already feeling the effects of the painkillers. "So you can murder me in my sleep?"

"...I can leave-"

"No, no, I'm just kidding."

You sigh and relax into the pillows beneath you as Blade lowers you onto your back again. His gaze lingers on yours for maybe a second too long but he pulls away, preferring to sit down in a chair by the bedside and stare out at the scenery surrounding the house.

Once your eyes close and your breaths become quiet, he gives it a couple seconds to make sure you're asleep before softly starting to hum. It's an old tune from his past life, one which he used to smith to, and as midnight moonlight begins to stream in through the window, it veils your calm face in a hazy, shimmery glow that rivals even the smoothest of satins. He reaches a hand towards the apple of your cheek, cradling it in his palm as he sighs, a faint smile dancing on his lips.

"You're gonna kill me someday."

[literaila]

just barely 

tasm!peter x fem!reader 

summary:

“okay, peter. are you afraid of spiders?”  “no.”  “then can you go get the one in my apartment?”

warnings: angst, grief, mentions of gwen, arachnophobia, fluff. neighbors au. 

a/n: i am. so sorry. and actually i love this one so much so feed my ego, thanks

*

peter met you four months into college. 

sitting in his apartment, sewing up a suit that he should've gotten rid of years ago. pricking his fingers with the needle and telling himself that he was going to be more careful this time. 

he never was. 

and when you knocked on his door for the first time, he pricked his finger again. 

he almost swore out loud--flinging his hand in the air like the pain was going to fall off--but briefly remembered how thin the walls were. 

maybe because he could hear you breathing on the other side. 

it was late. peter always knew when it was late. 

and it was raining. he was inside because it was raining. 

and someone was knocking on his door. 

peter, with his finger in his mouth, sucking away the very essence of his life and every ounce of patience he had, did not want to deal with it. 

he didn't quite feel like a human being that night. 

and besides, if it wasn't someone delivering a pizza to his door--no, he didn't order but he might pay if that was the case--peter didn't want to know. 

and then there was another knock. 

so peter, begrudgingly, sliding on a jacket because he was only in sweatpants, went to the door. 

just barely sighed as he swung it open. 

and there you stood. dripping from the rain. 

"hi," you said, the word quick, breathless, like an afterthought. "we haven't met. i'm y/n. i moved in two weeks ago. i've seen you carrying books around and coming in late sometimes but i haven't--" you took a breath in. shook your head. "nevermind. my point is, i'm y/n." 

peter stood there. unsure what to say. he barely took it all in.

he stared at you and your shaking hands and dripping hair. 

he wondered how you got on his doorstep.  

"okay," you said, in lack of an answer. "this is really weird. you probably think i'm crazy. which was... not my goal." 

"i don't think you're--" 

"i have arachnophobia." 

peter blinked. 

"and it sounds crazy--because it is--but there's a spider in my apartment and i just--i can't. i'm cold, and i just got home from work, and there's a spider, like, right by the door, and i can't get it. or walk through the door." you paused, staring at him with wide eyes. "because i'm crazy." 

in a lack of words or any description for this situation, peter ran a hand over his jaw. 

he watched water drip from your hair. drip on the ground. 

you blinked at him. "you have a cut on your thumb, by the way." 

peter looked at his hand. clenched his fist until it was so tight that pain meant nothing but a blur of emotion. 

"oh," he said, stupidly, unknowing. "yeah, i know." 

you cleared your throat. "what's your name?" 

"peter." 

"okay, peter. are you afraid of spiders?" 

he might've laughed at the irony, if not given the fact that any conversation skills--that he may or may not have had--seemed to evade him. 

"no," he shook his head. "no--i, um. no." 

you breathed out, laughing a bit manically. "would you help me with the spider in my apartment then? i'm sorry to bother you, really, but i would like to change my clothes." 

"oh," he said, again, stupidly. "sure. sure." 

"you will?" 

he shook his head. tried to put on a smile that didn't exist. "yeah, of course." 

the words were slow and slurred and nothing like he'd meant them to be. 

peter, just barely, recognized the fact that you were his age. that you were pretty. 

and that you looked almost insane. like you'd said. 

"thank you," you breathed out in relief. "do you want to... um, put some shoes on first? if you're busy i can--" 

"probably shouldn't try anyone else," peter responded, assuming and stupid, and just. "it's three in the morning. i don't think they're awake." 

you opened your mouth, maybe to say something--peter couldn't tell--and then shut it. 

you stared at him like you were sure he was lying. 

like you were annoyed with him. 

he cleared his throat, walking forward a bit, and simultaneously pushing you back. "i don't need my shoes. uh, lead the way." 

he shut the door quietly behind him. 

you nodded. taking ten steps forward to the apartment right across from his. 

"you live right there?" 

while unlocking the door, you nodded your head. water dripping onto your shoes. 

peter briefly considered that he was an asshole. 

"why haven't i seen you before?" 

you looked back at him, swallowing. "i usually work night shifts. um, i mean, i've seen you before, so." 

peter nodded his head dumbly. 

and then you took a step back, staring at him. 

expectedly. 

"oh, you want me to go first?" 

"please." 

so peter walked through, searching the floors for any specimen that he may or may not have been related to. 

you just barely followed behind him. slightly lagging. 

"where was it?" 

"the wall in the back. it was big." 

peter looked back at you, a bit concerned by how nervous you looked just from walking through the door. 

"i don't see it." 

peter looked up and down the walls. followed his feet to the floor, making sure that he hadn't stepped on anything. 

and this is the point where he figured that he'd leave. let you get back to your business. 

maybe think about being more cordial to his neighbors. 

but you just barely said his name. quiet against the rain. 

he looked at you. "hmm?" 

"this is ridiculous, but, would you just--just look for it. like. in the other room. i won't be able to fall asleep, and--" 

peter was quick to nod. "yeah. i got it." 

and so he searched through your living room. feeling only slightly weird that he was looking through a stranger's house, while said stranger stood right at the doorway. 

but after around three minutes, he noticed a spider crawling on the opposite side of the wall. about an inch big. 

but he wasn't judging. 

"okay," he called to you, allowing the bug to crawl up his hand. "i got it." 

"the window doesn't have a screen." 

peter allowed himself a quick laugh--because, above all else, this was the weirdest three am he'd had in a while--and let the spider crawl outside, whispering a quick goodbye. 

and then he walked back to you, scratching at his thumb. 

you awkwardly thanked him, reaching your hand out to shake his. 

when peter stared for a moment, confused, you dropped it. 

and then you waited. 

and peter probably should've just left your apartment. 

that was what a considerate neighbor might do. 

"you're really that afraid of spiders?" 

"um, yeah," you shook your head, scratched at the back of your neck, and looked more uncomfortable than peter had ever seen another person. "it's--it's a feeling thing." 

peter tilted his head, curious. 

"well, like, just imagining them crawling around. or up and down my skin." you shivered, and peter assumed it wasn't from the cold. "i mean, i know that most spiders can't do any harm." 

peter coughed. 

"but still... it's hard to explain." 

"no," peter nodded, watching as your eyes fluctuated from the wall to him, from the ground to the ceiling. "i understand. they're creepy." 

"i guess. i know that they're important. thanks for not killing that one." 

peter just barely blinked. 

"well," you said, smiling at him. "you should go to sleep. i'm sorry for keeping you up." 

"it's no problem." peter swore. 

he'd forgotten all about the rain. or his suit. or the tiny little cut on his thumb. 

"have a good night, peter. thanks for your help." 

you smiled at him--this time, sincere and appreciative--one last time. 

peter met you four months into college. he'd whispered his goodbyes in the rain and was unfathomably interested in his neighbor. 

and maybe he'd always known that he was going to fall in love with you. 

*

"hey," you whisper, late enough for the words to feel strange on his spine. 

"hey," he says back, but only because it's what he should do. 

you run your fingers along his forearm, leaving terror in your wake. 

"how are you?" 

you ask him. 

and peter can't really answer that. 

*

when peter saw you again, it was with his backpack slung over his shoulder. 

with papers and the weight of thousands of dollars in debt piling up in one bag that probably shouldn't have been carrying it all. 

but when you smiled at him, peter shrugged it off, and just smiled back. 

"hey," you said, quickly and carefully, unlocking your door. "how are you?" 

"good." peter nodded. "um, you?" 

you laughed, maybe because of the long pause between the words. "i'm okay. it's nice to be out with the sun." 

"yeah. haven't seen you around." 

"not like you did before, either." 

peter nodded again. his eyebrows were ready to run right off of his face. 

you were carrying bags in your hands, one on the ground, turning back around to your door because peter hadn't offered anything significant to you. 

so he cleared his throat. "did you--do you want some help?" 

you looked down at the ground, seemingly surprised by your own grocery bags. "oh, yeah." eyes met his. "i don't want to bother you again." 

"it's no bother." 

and so peter picked up the bag on the ground. he reached his hand out and barely felt it when your fingers passed his. 

or when you smiled at him, grateful again. 

"i don't mean to keep using you," you said to him, finally unlocking your door. "you just seem to be there." 

"it's only twice." 

you nodded, moving back so that he could walk in. "for now." 

peter snorted, feeling uncomfortable as his shoes hit your carpet. 

"i like your apartment, by the way. it's nice." 

more trinkets than his. a home full of things that peter didn't recognize. 

and still, it was brighter than his apartment. 

you lead him into the kitchen, pointing to where he should set the bags down.

peter could feel your eyes on him. sort of creeping. sort of subdued in a casual way. 

"thanks. i like it," you answer. "or, i like it when there aren't any bugs crawling around."  

peter let his lips twitch. he moved back, giving you the room to start putting the perishables away. 

"are you always getting pulled into everyone else's apartments?" you asked him, biting your lip and looking up. 

your eyes were quick, lit, and less emphasized than they'd been when it was three in the morning. 

peter frowned. "what?" 

"yesterday i helped someone move a couch into their apartment. and last week mrs. rivers needed some help with her tv. i just meant that you seem helpful. dependable." you shrugged. "do people ask you for help a lot?" 

"no, not really," peter answered, words still confused. "i don't 'run into' people very often. and i don't think they would ask me." 

you blinked, closing a cabinet and turning away from him. 

"why not?" 

"i don't know anyone very well." 

peter breathed out and you hummed, unbagging things that peter couldn't see. 

"sometimes mr. smith from down the hall asks me to water his plants when he goes to see his son." 

you nodded, like this made perfect sense to you. 

"but that's about it." 

"how long have you lived here?" 

"almost five months." 

"hmm." 

you emptied another bag, not watching as peter leaned against your counter. 

he felt like he should go. that he was intruding on some boundary that he shouldn't have been. 

but he stayed because you hadn't asked him to leave. 

"what?" he asked, shaking his head. 

"are you a busy person?" 

in this game of twenty questions, peter seemed to be answering everything. 

and ignoring the gentle curiosity aimed his way. 

to complain would be hypocritical. 

"i guess. school and work. why?" 

you shrugged, again. "that's probably why you don't know your neighbors. if you're not here a lot..." 

peter crossed his arms. there was something in your tone of voice. something in your eyes and strange way of speaking. 

"i know my neighbors." 

you just barely smiled. "yeah?" 

"yeah. you're y/n. you've lived here four weeks, and you're afraid of spiders." 

you laughed. "that doesn't count." 

peter frowned. licked his lips and let the adrenaline control any next statement. 

"mr. smith lives in 3C. he's got two kids. if you listen late enough at night you can hear him calling his son in florida." 

you looked at him again, pausing. 

so peter continued. 

"ms. baker is divorced. she got the cat, which is good because she loves that cat more than life itself. she makes brownies and then leaves them to rot on her windowsill. or she used to. until she started leaving them in the mail room." 

you laughed. leaned against the counter next to him and crossed your ankles. 

"david, the building manager, loves halloween. if he could, he would decorate the whole place. but it's a fire hazard, so he just decorates the laundry room." 

"isn't that a fire hazard too?" 

peter considered it. "probably." 

you laughed again. 

"the girl in 6B, moira, is a single mom. her daughter doesn't like thunderstorms, so she's always crying. unless moira swaddles her and puts on old sixties music. and mrs. alvera gets flowers every week. jason blasts music on the weekends but no one complains because everyone is scared of him."

peter continued. he wasn't thinking about leaving. 

"there's a little boy down the hall, henry, who loves trains. his dad sends him some in the mail. mr. johnson has a dog who he hates." 

and there's something in your eyes. 

peter breathed out, chest a bit tight. he'd never been very good at defeat. 

"so," he said.

"so?" 

"so i know my neighbors." 

you smiled at him. turned towards the fridged and grabbed two water bottles, one to offer to him. 

he took it, but only for something to do with his hands. 

"and you're peter," you say, slowly. 

"parker." 

"peter parker. you're always coming and going at odd times. you're a student--probably at esu--and you're nice." 

and then peter smiled. he was willing to admit that. 

*

"what're you doing?" you ask him, stepping into the room and dropping your bag on the floor. 

peter barely flinches at the sound. 

he blinks up at the clock, noticing numbers that he should have an hour ago. 

"hey," he says, dumbly. "you're home." 

you lean down to kiss his head. he can feel your smile. "yeah. what're you doing?" 

"just fixing some holes." 

peter gestures down to the suit. looks up at you and tries not to falter at your eyes. 

you’re staring at him. 

you look tired, had been at work all day, and still--you offered him a smile.

the same sweet smile he'd been getting for a year and a half. 

"don't hurt yourself," you whisper to him, laughing just a bit. 

peter looks down at the needle between his fingers.

he barely just caught the joke as you walk out of the room to go change into your work clothes. 

and theres the tiniest part of him that feels relieved for the silence.  

relieved to not have to stare at you. 

and face the goddamn reality. 

*

peter had been getting used to the knocks on his door. 

he recognized your specific weight, the sequences, and cadence in whatever you needed from him. 

and he wasn't as hesitant to open the door. 

"hey, peter," you said to him, a bit breathless. "do you have a wrench?" 

peter blinked. "what?"

you made a strange hand gesture. "you know, the thing that you twist stuff with?" 

peter's brow furrowed. he opened the door a little bit more, noticing your wet pants and the lack of shoes or socks. 

"i know what a wrench is," he said. "why do you need it?" 

"sink's leaking." 

his lips pursed. he waited for more of an explanation, but you offered him none. 

"yeah," he said, finally. "i have a wrench. come in." 

and then he swung the door open and left you to fend with it yourself. 

and listened to your footsteps as you followed him to his supply closet. 

"i don't think i've ever been in here," you said from behind him, voice echoing in his empty hallway. "not what i expected." 

peter looked back at you with a raised brow. 

you raised your hands in defense. "you seem like a poster kind of guy." 

"there's a poster in my room." 

"of what?" 

"a spider." 

you scoffed from behind him, and peter had to pay close attention to his face--just so that he didn't laugh back. 

he dug through his shelves, looking for a tool kit that he'd hidden away. 

unused, because he didn't want it. 

because he didn't need it anymore. 

"here," he said, handing you the wrench, initials branded on the side. 

"why thank you, peter parker." 

you smiled up at him, a mark on the side of your face--peter couldn't tell what it was. 

"sure," he agreed, shutting the closet behind him. "why don't you just call maintenance?" 

"hmm?" 

"for your sink." 

"oh, um. well, i need to use it. and it's almost six so there's no time to call." 

"do you know how to fix a sink?" peter allowed a cautious raise of his brow. a curiosity that he wasn't really allowed appeared in his throat, swallowed right back down by guilt. 

"i know how to use google." 

"so no." 

 you raised a finger at him, looking defensive. "it can't be that hard." 

peter laughed. 

"what?" 

"i hope that your apartment doesn't flood." 

"mean, peter," you frowned at him. "i could have a talent for fixing sinks." 

and then you turned around, leaving him no room to argue, and headed for the door. calling another thank you as you opened it. 

but peter opened his mouth before you could leave. 

"why didn't you ask?" 

you turned back, wide eyes. "what?" 

"if i could help. you didn't ask." 

"can you fix a sink?" 

"yes." 

peter would've liked to lie. maybe if you had been any other person, he might've. 

you grinned. "i've already used you enough. i'm working on my dependency." 

peter shrugged. "never hurts to ask." 

your lip twitched the barest amount. 

you played with his wrench, swinging it from hand to hand. "i'll bring this back." 

"okay." 

peter let the interest fall off of his shoulders and onto the ground. 

he had things he needed to do. like, putting a cup of mac and cheese into the microwave. 

and read for his class tomorrow. 

and consider every failure he'd ever made. 

but you called his name, just once more. 

"yeah?" he opened the door, a little bit wider. 

"wanna help me fix my sink?" 

peter, now, considers that you might've been pitying him. poor peter, all alone on a saturday night. 

but then he just blindly nodded. 

forgot all about consequences. 

*

"peter, you can't just get ice cream." 

peter looks down at his shopping bag. he frowns. "there's chips too." 

"where are the meals?" 

he smiles at you. "in your basket." 

"we already agreed that i'm not cooking for you anymore." 

peter pretends to consider this. "you know, i actually changed my mind about that. statistically, you probably won't burn down my apartment again." 

"statistically, i'm going to hit you one of these days." 

peter holds a hand to his heart, mock offended. "violence," he protests, taking a step back as you try and push him. 

"go get something to eat." 

"i'm going to eat all of this." 

"okay," you grin at him. "go get something that you probably won't eat." 

peter groans. this time, you actually push him. 

"we'll order pizza tonight if you get some actual groceries." 

"why are you always nagging me?" 

peter says it, but with a smile on his face. 

you laugh back at him. pat his cheek like you're his grandmother. "go." 

peter sighs and listens. 

and it's fine. for today. 

*

surely enough, peter couldn't manage to avoid you. 

it might've been that you lived right across from him. peter realized that. 

or it might've been the world, laughing and laughing at him. 

because he really wanted to avoid you. 

he wanted to stop answering the door; to keep you at a safe distance--that being ten feet away from him at all times--with a wall between the two of you. 

he wanted whatever he felt when he saw you smile--which was nothing, he swore to himself, over and over--hidden in a closet somewhere. 

someplace that he could just forget about it. 

but he couldn't seem to forget his neighbor. 

his neighbor who, like always, seemed to leave the house at the same time as him. 

"oh, hi," he said, carefully avoiding running into you. 

you looked up, hands cradling a pizza box, bag dangling from the side. and you smiled at him. 

because you were a smiley person. 

peter hated it. 

"hey, neighbor," you said, easily, stepping past him. "going out?" 

peter swallowed. "just to the store. i need some... salt." 

what he really needed was to get out of the house. 

what he needed was to stop going through the pictures under his bed this late at night, and stop allowing himself to feel any sort of adoration for the girl in them. 

what he needed, peter thought, was a reality check. 

a time machine. 

but he wasn't going to tell you any of that. 

"salt?" you repeated, laughing. "i have salt." 

"no, i need, like, a salt shaker. a big one." 

your brows furrowed. 

peter rubbed his hands together, slightly cold. slightly irritated. 

and guilty, because he hadn't wanted to be rude to you. he wanted to be polite, a gentleman like may taught him. 

but time did strange things to people. 

and he'd been living alone for more than half a year. 

"the grocery store is probably closed by now," you said, checking an invisible watch. 

"i'm just going to the cvs down the block." 

you laughed. "i don't think they have salt shakers." 

he scratched at the back of his neck. considered clawing his own eyes out. 

"you can borrow mine, though," you said to him, softly, as if no one else was supposed to hear. "if you're in a pinch." 

"no," peter shook his head. he repeated the word in his mind until it was branded against his skin. "that's... okay." 

you raised a brow. 

"i don't--i'm not, like, using it, right now. i've just been meaning to pick some up. and i don't have anything to do right now, so." 

if peter could go back and tell himself not to say a single thing, he would've. 

he would tell himself never to speak to you ever again. 

but you laughed because peter was funny. because you felt bad for him, in some strange, uncomfortable way. 

"do you have anything to do tomorrow morning?" 

peter shook his head. still. 

"then why don't i give you enough salt for breakfast tomorrow, and then you can go to the store and get a shaker afterward." 

peter swallowed. "i wouldn't want to... impose." 

"i'll even give you a slice of pizza." 

"that's okay." 

"peter," you sighed, almost begrudgingly. "c'mon. i owe you, at least one. and i can't eat a whole pizza myself." 

he bit the inside of his cheek. 

if there were warning bells, he would hear them clearly in his ear. 

"or, i can," you smiled. "but i probably shouldn't. and you probably shouldn't go out this late." 

peter frowned at the implication. 

"it's okay," he said. "you shouldn't--" 

"you don't even have to stay. just come and get some salt." 

peter's eyes flickered down to the pizza box in your hands. 

he thought about being alone. 

about going back into his room and running into memories that would punch him right in the face. 

that would beat him until he couldn't feel anything else. 

he thought about salt. 

about your smile and how much he wanted to stay away. 

he thought way too much. 

but nodded anyway. 

probably because he was an idiot. 

"lead the way," you said, finally opening the door. 

and peter went. 

*

"come on," you say to him, voice soft and haunted. 

quiet and eery. 

and peter doesn't want to. 

he doesn't want to be close to you right now. 

but your hands are soft against his shoulder, warm and welcoming, and he knows that you're waiting. he knows that you don't deserve this. 

he knows you. 

"peter," you say to him, calling and calling. "it's alright." 

your voice is different. 

not as smooth. not as beautiful. 

"come back to bed." 

peter lets your hands lead the way. 

he lets you pull him down, push him under water and sit on his chest. laugh as he struggles to get up. 

he lets you wrap the covers back around his back, saving him from the cold. 

he cuddles close to you, breathing in your skin, cheek on your chest, listening to your heartbeat until it's the only thing he can hear. 

"it's okay," you say. "it'll be okay." 

and he knows you're lying. 

peter is familiar with the concept. 

with breaking the rules until no glue can help repair them. 

and he hears a very specific gasp in his head. a pleading and crying and dying all over again. 

but your heartbeat is right in his ear. 

your words are close to him, holding him down. 

*

"i swear to god--" you kicked at a rock somewhere on the ground. 

peter blinked, trying to get his eyes to focus. 

"--i'm going to murder someone." 

he squinted at you, trying to see anyone else. held his jacket even closer to his body. 

"hey," he whispered, hand jerking out when you startled at the sound of his voice. "sorry," he said, keeping you steady. he could see his breath in the air. 

"peter. was it you?" your voice had a hint of an edge. your eyes were fire. 

he frowned. "what?" 

"did your smoke detector go off?" 

"no," he shook his head, looking back at the building. "i was asleep." 

"okay." you nodded, seeming to believe his lie. "i'm going to go ask everyone else." 

peter kept his hands on your shoulders, holding you back. "woah," he said, looking into your eyes. "what's the rush?" 

"i'm going to punch whoever was burning down their kitchen at four in the morning." 

"i think maybe you should take some deep breaths." 

you mocked inhaling and exhaling. "there. mr. smith!" you called. 

peter clasped a hand over your mouth. 

you glared at him. speaking against his hand. 

peter quickly moved away, trying to remember himself. trying to remember that he was only three feet away from you. 

which breaks the foundation directly in half. 

he raised a brow, a bit amused, slightly delirious from exhaustion. "you should stay here. it'll only be ten minutes till we can go back inside." 

"who starts a fire at four in the morning?" you whine to him, almost falling against his chest. 

his hands go back on your arms, keeping you up. "an asshole," peter agreed. "were you asleep?" 

"no. i got home thirty minutes ago." 

"ah. were you trying to go to sleep?" 

"i was trying to..." you paused, looking away from him. "nevermind. yes. i was sleeping." 

peter laughed. "okay. you can get back to..." he shakes his head, an allusion. "whenever the fire department shows up." 

"it's cold," you complain to him. "and i didn't have any time to put on my shoes." 

"i'm glad you're alive." 

that night, peter avoided his sensibility. he didn't want to talk to it, thanks. 

he took off his jacket, handing it to you. "here." 

"peter. you'll get cold." 

"you're in shorts. put it on." 

because you were fed up with every other thing, you didn't argue. just hurried to put it on, snuggling into your own skin. 

"thanks." 

"no problem."

it was silent for a moment; no sirens in hearing distance. 

other people had gathered into groups, neighbors gossiping about neighbors. 

peter thought that you might've been one of them if you weren't stuck next to him. 

"bad night?" he asked you, avoiding the silence. 

"what?" 

"i've never seen you... angry? irritated?"

"oh." you looked down to the ground, a bit sheepish. maybe embarrassed. peter couldn't see your eyes, so he couldn't tell. "yeah. i worked two shifts in a row. and it's tuesday, so everyone was mad." 

"where do you work?" 

"a bar a couple of blocks away." 

peter nodded.

"sorry about..." you laugh, gesturing to something he couldn't see. "all of that." 

"it's okay. you're tired." 

"yeah." 

so was peter. 

and he was insane because he really couldn't stop looking at you. he couldn't even have an internal debate about it. 

"peter?" you whispered to him, smiling a little bit. 

"what?" 

"your jacket smells nice." 

*

peter listens to you speak, appreciating the gentle smile in your voice. 

he watches as your eyes change. as your hand gestures towards something. 

he watches you. 

and there's no one there to tell him to stop. 

*

this particular night, peter knocks on your door. 

he'd decided, after lots of thinking, that the best way to avoid you--was to just get over himself. 

was to just pretend to be a normal neighbor. 

to start acting normal and stop being an idiot. 

which, in all fairness, wasn't as easy as peter thought it might be. 

especially when you opened the door in a big t-shirt and no pants. 

but of course, you just smiled at him. didn't even blink. 

"hey," peter says, quickly. "are you busy?" 

your eyes met his, a gentle question behind the smirk on your face. "no. what's up?" 

"i was gonna, um," peter's face twitched. he cleared his throat, trying to smile even though he'd forgotten how. "i was going to watch a movie. alone. but--" he shrugged. forgot how to speak. "i thought that you might be home. and, just, do you wanna watch with me?" 

you were amused at him. but peter appreciated that you didn't laugh right in his face. 

"what movie?" 

he handed you the case, biting a hole in his lip. 

"back to the future?" 

"if you wanna watch something else, we can--" 

you shake your head, handing him the case back. "no, that's good. let me go grab my phone." 

and then peter had you over to his apartment for the first time. 

he watched a movie with you and didn’t even feel guilty about it. 

*

peter needs a break. 

just a night, an hour, a couple of minutes away from you. 

away from the possibility and the words stuck in his head. 

the words that he would like to avoid. 

the words that he wants to throw in a hole somewhere. bury them where no one will ever find them. 

especially not you. 

especially not him. 

but that's not an option, see. because the words are printed on his arm. they are wrapped around his heart in a brand of shackles they don't manufacture anymore. 

and peter lost the key. 

so he needs a break instead. 

conveniently, you're working. you kissed him goodbye, walked out the door with a smile on your face. 

and peter felt so bad that he was relieved to see you go. 

relieved because he doesn't want to tell you. 

he doesn't want the words to slip. 

he doesn't want any of this. 

and he needs this break. 

he needs a moment to repair his intelligence. to stop acting on a whim. to distance himself from the idea--from the guilt that pounds on his chest like a knock on his door. 

he needs a break. 

a break from sensibility and rational thinking. 

and peter doesn't really need a break from you. 

but he's taking one anyway. 

he can't wait for you to come back. 

*

"you have class tomorrow?" you asked him, chewing on a piece of popcorn. 

"yeah. eleven am." 

"who takes a class at eleven in the morning?" 

peter frowned. "it was convenient." 

you laughed at his face, throwing some popcorn at him. he caught it in his mouth and pretended not to feel some pride at your awed expression. 

"this movie sucks," you said to him. but you were still watching it anyway. 

you'd been sitting on his couch all day. just entertaining him with commentary about whatever movie was on cable. 

peter was glad for the company. 

he was trying to get out of the mood he'd been in. 

trying to get comfortable in this friendship. 

"we can watch something else." he moved to grab the remote, but you stopped him with a nudge of your foot. 

"no," you said. "it's okay." 

and so it was. 

*

"you're going back home next weekend, right?" 

peter nods. he chews on a cookie that you've just pulled out of the oven. 

you glare at him, playfully. 

he smiles back, mouth full. 

"gross, peter." you toss a dish rag at him. he catches it without a blink. 

"may asked if you wanted to come." 

you blink at him, curious. "she did?"

"yeah. she likes you." 

"oh, she likes me from the one time she stopped by your apartment to drop off a box and caught a glimpse of me in the hallway?" you ask him, dryly. 

peter appreciates how your voice shifts from high to low. a style of music all on its own. 

"she likes you because i tell her about you." 

you frown. "you do?"

peter nods, curious about your reaction. 

"what do you say? 'the annoying girl from across the hall asked to use my shower again because--'" 

he pulls you in a little bit closer, ignoring the protests as you drop a spatula on the counter. 

"i tell her that you're nice. and about your cookies."

you smile, reluctantly. "she wants me to come?" 

peter nods, letting you go, returning to his cookie. 

"would you mind?"

peter freezes. 

he prefers not to think about it. 

he prefers to pretend that there is no significance in this interaction. 

because there isn't. 

peter kisses the top of your head, looking down at you. he shakes his head, nonchalant. 

"really?" 

"i wouldn't mind." 

"because i love may." 

peter laughs. "i know." 

"i will ask her about your baby pictures." 

"don't think she has any," peter shrugs.

"oh, you liar." 

he laughs again. grabbing another cookie. 

*

"peter," you walked through his door with no greeting, going immediately to the spot on his couch that you'd claimed as your own. "i want a cat." 

"you can't get a cat." 

you pouted and peter laughed at your face. at the very idea you were in his house.

"why not?" you whined, sliding down his couch. "give me one reason." 

"the building doesn't allow pets." 

"give me two reasons." 

"you'd have to leave the cat alone all day." 

you smiled at him. "not if i had a co-owner." 

"i'm not getting a cat with you." 

you waved a hand, offended. "i didn't mean you. i meant jason." 

"jason would kill the cat. then you." 

"he's really nice." 

peter raised a brow at you, sitting down on the couch finally, just waiting for whatever purpose there was for this visit. 

"hey," you said. "don't you have work tonight?" 

"i switched shifts with a coworker." 

"oh. how come?" 

"they had a birthday party to go to tomorrow." 

you smiled at him, teeth showing. "that was nice of you." 

peter shrugged. "i don't have classes this week, so." 

and here, peter knew, was the last warning sign. 

it was that night that he stopped caring. 

"why aren't you that nice to me?" you put a bare foot on his leg, trying to get him to flinch away. 

he just pushed it off of him. "because i like you." 

"that's twisted, parker." 

"want to watch a movie?" 

you moved back, rubbing a hand over your eyes. "can we play a game or something, instead? i might fall asleep if we watch a movie." 

peter frowned. "you're tired?" 

"no," you shook your head at him. "not really." 

"you should go to bed."

"are you kicking me out?" 

and peter, despite what he wanted to say, shook his head again. 

not sure what he meant by it. 

and then you beamed at him. 

you blinded him until he didn't care about seeing anything ever again. you broke him down until peter was sure that you were his friend. 

that you were his best friend and there wasn't anything he could do about it. 

"how do you feel about connect four?" you asked him. 

and you stayed. 

peter wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

*

gwen. 

peter had nightmares every month. 

he had conflicts and ideas and non-relenting feelings that wouldn't just leave him alone. 

they didn't escape, even when you were around. 

despite what deliberate mistakes peter kept making. despite the conscious failures he kept bundled up in his pockets. 

and whatever peter wanted to feel for you. 

he couldn't. 

he wouldn't do that to her. 

he wouldn't do that to you. 

he wasn't allowed. 

*

the first time peter kissed you, it was a mistake. 

it was reckless. it was pushing and pulling at him until he was stretched thin, until he was so close to you that he couldn't think. 

and peter had been thinking about it for a while. 

he noticed the lingering at your lips.

he noticed how warm you were.

how intriguing how perfect. 

he noticed everything about you, no matter how many times he'd told himself to stop. to stop being your friend and stop thinking about anything except being close to you. 

when he kissed you, it was stupid. 

it was nothing. 

it was so so much. 

"what?" you'd asked him, in the dark, on his couch. 

he was already having a bad day. he was already too close to the edge. 

he'd had a dream about you the night before. instead of her. 

he'd dreamt of your skin, and your hair, the smell that you left behind when you walked out his door. 

he dreamt of touching you, of being closer than he would ever dare himself to be. 

and he was having a bad day. 

peter shook his head. he swallowed and told himself to stop looking at you. "nothing." 

so you turned away from him. 

so you were still close. 

and it only took a split second for peter to forget. 

to forget about guilt and all of its complexities. 

to allow himself to like you, for just a moment, for just a second too long. 

and then his hands reached out--heart clasped in their grip--to touch your arm. 

to feel your skin and savor it. 

your brows furrowed. you looked at him, confused. 

and peter couldn't get anything more than "i just--" before he closed the distance between the two of you. 

before he slammed the door in his own face. 

and kissed you. 

*

neither of you put a name to it. 

you had agreed, peter knew. 

you weren't his girlfriend. 

you weren't his friend. 

but you stayed the night. you watched movies with him. you made out with him on his couch and it wasn't much. 

it wasn't anything. 

there was no name for the thing between the two of you. 

and peter liked it that way. 

at least then he could pretend that it was all okay. 

*

"peter," you were trying to get him to pause. 

you were trying to track him down because he hadn't talked to you in a week. 

he hadn't dared to see you since that night. 

"peter, hey--" 

he unlocked his door, feeling the guilt pour down his stomach like gasoline. 

it tasted the same. 

"i just want to talk," you pleaded with him. "you don't have to say anything." 

"i've gotta go," peter answered, short and stern. 

"please. just two minutes." 

"it's been a long day, y/n." 

"it's been a long week," you hissed at him, stopping his door with your foot. "this isn't fair." 

and peter knew that. 

god, he was aware. 

but he shook his head. "not tonight. not right now." 

not ever, he thought but didn't say. 

"please, peter," your eyes were desperate. your voice had softened, like maybe if you used a euphemism all of this would mean so much less. 

it didn't work. 

"i'm sorry," you whispered. "i didn't mean to." 

peter couldn't have asked what you meant even if he wanted to. 

none of this was your fault. 

he had burned his own bridges. and now, amidst his own problems, he was hurting you. 

so he was just going to stop. 

"it doesn't have to mean anything," 

you said the words, so smoothly, so truthfully. 

wide eyes, as scared as peter had seen them on the first night. he was the new spider on your wall. 

"it doesn't mean anything. we can pretend it never happened." 

peter might've been able to do that. 

he might've been able to just pretend it was fine. 

but he'd kissed you. and now he couldn't stop thinking about it. 

even as you stood by his door, pleading with him. he was staring at your lips. he was waiting for that smile so he could kiss it away. 

"peter. you're my best friend. i don't want to lose that." 

if the words meant anything peter couldn't hear it. 

"i'm sorry," he said, and he wasn't sure to who he was apologizing.

"please." 

"i can't." 

"i'll never bring it up again. i won't kiss you. i won't even complain when you pick out a bad movie. i just want--" you breathed out, a bit panicked. 

peter could see it in your eyes. 

"i just want you peter. that's all. it doesn't have to be more." 

and it didn't. 

he could see it in your eyes. your voice. the quick ticking of the clock in the background.

peter saw his own desperation, reflected in your eyes.

so peter opened the door. he let you inside. 

and he told himself that if he kissed you again, well. it didn't have to be more than that. 

*

peter presses his lips against yours. 

he can feel your smile; leaking into him like poison. like a steady stream of toxin, infecting his blood. 

but he doesn't stop. 

he pushes against you, pulls you even closer. 

he teases at the hair against your neck, he cradles your jaw in his fingertips, and marvels at how soft and smooth you are. 

he bites down on your lip, appreciating the gasp that falls from your lips. 

his hand slung around your waist, traveling up and down your back in a steady motion. 

peter feels as you press against him. as you crave that distance that he's been trying his best to avoid. 

he presses his lips against yours. 

he does it over and over again. 

and despite the gasps of air the two of you need, peter doesn't ever want to stop. 

he could live there; in a blinking moment. 

he applies glue to the edges, tells himself that none of it is going to fall apart. 

his lips travel down to the skin of your neck. tasting you until the rest of it is a blur. 

peter kisses you. 

he tells himself that you don't mean anything more. 

the feeling in his chest is just guilt. 

*

"hey," you poked his shoulder. "what's wrong?" 

peter blinked. tried to focus again. shook his head. "nothing." 

"you look..." you tilted your head, looking right into his eyes. "concerned?" you guessed. "worried?" 

"i'm fine." he grabbed your hand and kissed the knuckles. 

it made up for the lie, peter was sure. 

"what're you thinking about?" 

"nothing." 

you laughed. "peter parker, you mean to tell me that nothing is going on in that giant brain of yours?" 

"nope." 

and you just smiled at him. he appreciated that; you didn't press on the wound. 

only stood there idly while he bleed to death. 

he preferred it that way. 

"are you hungry?" he asked, pulling you up from the couch with him. 

"not much." 

"do you want to go to the park?" 

you'd been teasing him about going earlier. about sitting on a bench and staring at all the birds that walked passed. 

you frowned at him. "you hate the park." 

"i like the park."

"you like the pretzel cart right next to the park. you don't actually like the park." 

"i can like the park if we get a pretzel." 

you snorted. smiled at him, because you were happy. 

because peter knew you. 

because he was sure of it. 

"i suppose we can arrange that," you said to him, rubbing at the skin of his palm. 

and so the two of you left. 

peter forgot all about it. 

how he was looking at you instead of a box of pictures under his bed. 

how that killed him, just a little bit. 

*

peter paces around his apartment. 

you're not there. 

you're not here. 

peter takes a moment to think about where you might be. 

you had plans tonight. 

you had things that you were supposed to be doing with him. 

"dinner and a movie," you said, smiling at him as if he'd just told you a secret. 

and peter smiled back because you were just that cute. 

but you aren't here. 

you aren't answering his calls. 

and you didn't come to your door. 

so peter paces around his apartment. 

he waits for you to arrive, but the time spent thinking about it only allows him to overthink it. 

to picture you, somewhere alone. 

someplace that he won't be able to get you back. 

*

"what's this?" you plucked the picture right off of his shelf. 

you intruded on every carefully sanctioned rule peter had. 

you were in his room. 

and peter didn't have time to stop you before you drifted over to his bookshelf; before you unlocked a secret that he'd been struggling to keep. 

you looked over to him, just curious, eyes just soft. "who's she?" 

as soon as you said the words, peter knew that it couldn't have gone anyway else.

he knew that he couldn't have resolved, reflected, or kept himself from saying anything he wasn't supposed to. 

like a selfish child, he grabbed the picture from your hands. he put it back on the bookshelf, reminding himself how to breathe. 

he couldn't look at you to know that you were concerned. 

he couldn't see beyond the boundaries that had been broken. 

gwen, and gwen, and gwen. 

and you. 

because you were a pest on his wall. 

peter breathed out. he considered stopping right then and there. 

"peter?" you asked, "are you okay?" 

eyes unmoving, dangling off of the edge of the world. his world. 

gwen. 

he looked at the picture--the one from graduation. the only one he had the heart to keep. 

the only one he'd forgotten to lock away. 

"peter?" you repeated, carefully, a gentle hand on his back. 

as if to keep him grounded. 

and that was enough. 

he kicked you out of his apartment. 

*

it was a bad night. 

it was one of the nights when peter woke up in a sweat. where he panicked and fought and tried to kick his way out of any reality he lived in. 

it was a night where only one image was burned into his brain. 

where there was only one person to blame. 

and it wasn't you. 

it wasn't you when your hands grasped at his face; when you tried to bring him back down to someplace safe. 

someplace where he could breathe. 

bring him back to you. 

it was a bad night. one of the nights when peter just forgot to breathe. 

where he just forgot how to think, how to be a person instead of a shell of anger, of denial and grief and all of the things that he'd never managed to break free from. 

it was a night. 

another one and she still wasn't there. 

he still hadn't woken up from the nightmare. 

"gwen," he gasped out because he'd forgotten. 

because you were there. you were right there next to him. 

and you weren't supposed to be. 

you were breaking the rules. 

you were betrayal, knocking at his door every night, ridiculing him with every cruel word. 

"peter," you say, softly, bringing him back down. reminding him of where he is. 

and he breaks free. 

he breaks all over again. 

right into your hands. 

*

he doesn't have a word for it, the way you look at him. 

he doesn't have a firm grasp on how much he cares about you. 

but he worries all day. 

he worries about you, about where you are, about what you're doing. 

he worries that he cares too much. that this is too far. that this means too much. 

that everything has intruded on his careful nothing. 

and he misses you when you're gone. 

and he calls you when he gets the chance. 

and he smiles at you. 

doesn't know how to define the way he feels. 

but it doesn't have to mean anything. 

*

"i'm sorry," he tells you. "that wasn't fair." 

you haven't said a thing. 

you haven't pushed him, having kept your eyes from handing him a letter of resignation. 

i can't do this anymore, you say, with just your eyes. 

"i'm sorry," peter repeats. 

"what do you want, peter?" 

he shakes his head. he contemplates the idea until he forgets where he is. 

"i don't know," he says. "i don't--i'm not sure." 

"well, i am." 

the words are short. 

they are the end of an end. 

peter watches you, waiting for you to leave him--knowing that you'll only hurt him this once. 

that this feeling won't drift into another decade. 

two years of knowing you, he thinks. two years of this. 

"i can't do this anymore, peter." 

he hears you but doesn't understand. 

he thinks but draws no obvious conclusions. 

"i'm sorry," he whispers. 

he doesn't know what he's sorry for. 

"god," you scoff at him. 

a reprimand is thrown against the wall. it ricochets back into his chest, tearing his heart out. reminding him of the things he’s done, again and again.

he kicked you out. 

he threw you away. 

he pushed you so hard and so far that he barely recognizes your face, even now. 

even as you stare at him--begging him to change. begging him to do the one thing he feels most incapable of.

he'd refused to love you for so long that he'd left bruises fighting you. 

peter breathes in. 

"i love you." 

the words throw him a branch. he drops it. he pushes it even further into the ground. dirt and disease and all of the things that he deserves.

he waits for you to leave and leave and leave. 

"peter, i love you.”

it’s a different sentence. it hurts even more.

“are you sorry about that?" you ask him, your anger burning holes in his heart. "are you sorry for letting me love you?" 

he says nothing. 

this means nothing. 

"i can't--i won't sit here and pretend like i don't anymore. i won’t be your statue.”

a beautiful statue, peter realizes.

something to return to. the thing to remain when everything else has been turned to ash. something hidden and secret and just for him.

he thinks of you, stone and iron and every impenetrable thing.

he blanches at the prospect.

“i'm sorry, peter,” you say, and it’s cruel. “because it's not fair to you. i know it's not. but it's not fair to me either." 

tears gather in your eyes. they drown peter in their silence. 

he tries to speak but his words are too quiet. he tries to tell you but his voice has been stolen.

"i'm sorry," you tell him. 

and then you're gone. 

*

"you don't have to tell me," you'd said to him. a long time ago. "whatever it is, i don't care." 

peter thought that you might. that if you knew the truth, you might care. 

that you might not want to be around a murderer like him. 

but he didn't say that. 

"peter," you'd wrapped an arm around him, supported him with all of your weight. "i care about you, you know?" 

it was a question that didn't require answering. 

peter couldn't say it back. guilt had its chains wrapped around him, and was controlling his every move. 

"okay. as long as you know." 

"i don't care," you'd said to him. 

but you would. 

*

peter sits in his apartment alone. 

it's the first time in weeks. 

usually, you're there. usually, you're filling his rooms with laughter. brightening every doorway you walk through. 

you’re there with a warmth peter doesn’t care to describe. a smile he doesn’t want to see; eyes that go beyond a simple conclusion.

you’re there, changing everything. one second at a time.

you distract him until he doesn't need distraction. 

but tonight he's alone. 

tonight he's staring at the pictures he still has of gwen. 

and despite the pain. 

despite the guilt. 

despite all of his attention focused on the photographs in front of him. 

despite it all. 

he's thinking about you. 

*

when peter knocks on your door, he tries not to wince. 

he tries to collect himself into a neat picture. into a semblance of a person. a complete idea. 

he struggles and scrambles around for something spare, something he left behind. 

but he can't manage to find it all before you open your door. 

before you're standing in front of him, eyes puffy. 

it's been a night. 

one night without you and peter's already back. 

some cruel part of him laughs. 

"hey," he says. 

he repeats apologies in his head. tries to print them out into the world. he wants you to know. he wants to tell you.

he wants to just fix this.

you stare at him, mouth open the tiniest bit. unexpected and shocked and everything peter was worried about.

peter scratches at his neck, ashamed. "i know you're still mad. and that i shouldn't be here. i wanted--" he swallows his courage. "i wanted to give you some space, but i..." 

he stops. looks at you. your eyes. a phantom of a smile. and idea he’s lost one too many times.

"i don't want to lose you." 

he repeats the words like a record in his mind. 

your words, he realizes. 

"i can't lose you," he repeats. he feels the grasp on his heart loosen. he breathes out, shakily. "can we talk? i want--i just want--" 

and he falters on the edges of the words.

he can feel the pain, steady as air, crawling up his skin, laughing at him over and over. it presses up against him, whispering that he can’t do it. it ceases to exist at all.

it holds him hostage. he’s not allowed to do this. he’s not supposed to be here, looking at you.

but he wants to feel it. he wants you to hear him clearly. he wants to push this wall away. and he—

if he could just say it.

you open the door. 

because you've always been more forgiving than him. 

*

its a couple of weeks later. 

a couple of weeks of finally understanding what denial can do to a person. 

of finally defining the meaning of you. 

of you and your smile and your forgiveness. 

the strength you've leant peter, even when he hasn't deserved it. 

it's a couple of weeks later, and you're sitting on peter's couch. 

you're there, now, and peter doesn't feel guilty about it. 

he can't. 

he doesn't let himself think about what it means. 

instead, he runs a fingertip up and down the skin of your arm, he tries to pay attention to the movie you're both watching and fails. 

he looks over at you, admiring the light on your face. 

the depths and lights and pictures that a camera could never capture. 

he smiles at you, unknowingly. 

you look over to him. "what?" you ask, teasing voice, a brow raised. 

but you're smiling too. 

peter shakes his head. he tilts your chin up with his finger, getting a better view. 

there's a look on your face that peter never wants to go away. 

there's a feeling in his chest--more than pounding, more than strength--that he recognizes most. 

you mean something to him. that much is clear. 

"peter," you sing, trying to get his attention. 

"what?" 

"you're not even watching the movie." 

peter smiles. "that's okay." 

"want to change it?" 

peter shakes his head, he doesn't need to say a single thing. 

you sigh and look away from him, but there's a grin on your face that peter wants to put in his pocket. 

for a rainy day. 

he keeps staring at you. 

doesn't need to watch a movie when you're right next to him. 

and peter defines it. 

because he knows.

and he's pretty sure--amidst all of the mistakes and lies--that he always has. 

“hey,” peter says.

he doesn’t need to worry about restrictions. about ideas and actions that he’s made.

you smile at him, despite it all.

“change your mind?” you ask him, so very close.

he can feel your breath on his skin. can taste the eagerness in the air.

yes, he thinks,

you wait for him. you stare at him until he speaks. “peter,” you whisper, like a beacon of hope.

like a light to go home to.

peter smiles again, ready.

“i love you.”

*

my masterlist here. 

tags: @moonlarking-blog @v1ci0us @preciousbabypeter @alexxavicry @directioner5life  @inthegetawaycarwithtaylah​ @localrockstargf​

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — minjeong's deal

aeri uchinaga's mansion, gangnam-gu, seoul, korea. 2:43 am.

WARNINGS ; cheating, drug/alcohol imparement, manipulation, slut shaming, incel behavior, suggestive (3.3k)

kim minjeong had met y/n about an hour after jang wonyoung.

the younger girl had strayed from the viewing group, wanting a more in-depth tour than the one kwon eunbi was offering her. she had read about the school online, and her connections (read: BTS' jin) had told her the best place to view the campus was in the first year's dorms, at the very top of the building.

it was minjeong's favorite place too, seeing all the cars scattered and all the students lingering.

y/n wore a red suma sweater that day, sporting it as if she had already been admitted to the university. her hair was lazily tied into a high ponytail, stray strands littering her face, all signs that indicated she was already part of the suma student body.

but minjeong could tell that she had never stepped on the school grounds until today. the amazement in her eyes seemed to shine brighter than the sun itself, and minjeong felt almost hypnotized.

"um, are you supposed to be here?"

y/n looked at her and minjeong swore she had never seen someone so pretty until her.

she looked like a movie star, one of the ones you saw as you browsed through the menu of a streaming platform. her face was flushed with embarrassment, coating the tip of her nose which lay a singular beauty mark, and minjeong could feel her cheeky smile radiating with an innocence that she wanted to have for herself.

"please don't tell anyone." even her voice was pretty. "i promise i was just looking."

kim minjeong could feel her heart beat out of her chest.

this was their secret, hers and this stranger's.

"i won't tell."

y/n nodded, smiling at the older girl as she looked down at the group she was supposed to be a part of.

minjeong could feel herself getting more and more nervous being around her. she wondered if this could finally be it.

"what's your name?" minjeong asked.

"mine?" y/n hummed. "my name is y/n."

y/n.

she was gonna make y/n hers, no matter what it took.

"i'm minjeong."

the suma student watched as y/n looked away from the crowd, her cat-like eyes staring into her dark irises. the air of the vents seemed to breeze along the hairs on minjeong's neck, the girl forcing back a shiver.

y/n...

y/n smiled at her.

jimin glared at the shorter girl crying into her hands.

the party was slowly dying downstairs, albeit at a snail's pace, and the smell of weed was starting to become less pungent. jimin had sobered up quite a bit, the vase full of her vomit leaving a reminder. her stomach still hurt from huh yunjin's constant kicking, but all that pain seemed to dull out as she saw kim minjeong whimpering sadly in the corner like a stray dog.

she hated kim minjeong.

"she chose wonyoung over you again." jimin snickered, speaking in a loud voice over the music.

minjeong looked up, glaring at the volleyball player as she gripped her stomach.

y/n didn't know what she was doing. it was just because she was frantic, and she didn't want to bug minjeong, the latter deduced. she should've asked her best friend, and minjeong would gladly carry her off to a safer place, away from wonyoung and jimin.

what did wonyoung have that she didn't?

"shut up."

"you'd think that you'd let go of this stupid crush on her by now." jimin loved pushing minjeong's buttons. she could practically see the steam coming off her head as the girl gritted her teeth. "she doesn't love you."

y/n did. minjeong was sure of it.

the older girl had done everything by the book. she had taken her out to dinner, paying for all her food and ordering any extra things she wanted despite barely having money to scrape by. she had always let y/n vent to her, listening to all her problems even when it bored her out of her mind. she had even put up with wonyoung for a couple months, allowing y/n to engage in sexual activities with the girl, knowing it was just one of those slutty phases.

minjeong was perfect. y/n had to have loved her.

"she does!" minjeong stood up, marching towards jimin as the older girl stood up. she grabbed her by the collar of her shit, the high making her mind swirl. "you have no clue what you're talking about!"

jimin snickered, the smell of puke and beer making minjeong wince. she pulled back, her eyes dull from the drugs in her system.

"you're delusional as hell."

minjeong needed to clear her head. y/n would hate it if she got hurt, like the caring person she was. she just needed to relax, and surely tomorrow morning, the younger girl would embrace her and everything would be the way it should be.

wonyoung wouldn't get in the way. y/n wouldn't do that to her again.

minjeong's stomach churned.

jimin could read minjeong like a book. she was everything she was. ambitious, volatile, a perfectionist. if minjeong hadn't been so aggrevating to be around, jimin would've gladly ruined her then and there.

"it doesn't feel good, does it?"

minjeong covered her ears, trying to ignore the volleyball player laughs. jimin was just saying things to annoy her. she had no idea what she was talking about.

"why would she date a fucking virgin anyway?" minjeong flinched. "you know nothing about her. how are you gonna find her-"

kim minjeong hated yoo jimin.

"don't talk about her like that!"

"why?" jimin took a step forward, leaning down as she looked minjeong in the eye. "are you mad that i got to touch her first? that she moans my name instead of yours?"

minjeong shook her head, screwing her eyes shut. sure, y/n had her rebellious streaks. she would comment about things that minjeong would internally disapprove of, and would post photos wearing outfits that minjeong didn't like, but she wouldn't fuck jimin willingly.

y/n was hers. she was minjeong's y/n, and no one else's.

"shut up!"

jimin could see the girl spiraling, the volleyball player's presence too hard to ignore. she understood all the younger girl's worries and fears, even if minjeong didn't know she had any.

god, jimin loved ruining pretty girls.

"she wouldn't do that!" minjeong clenched her fist. "she's just trying to make me angry."

jimin burst out laughing, and minjeong could feel herself overheating from anger.

"she doesn't even love you." jimin's could feel tears starting to form in her eyes from laughing so hard. "why would she care?"

y/n loved minjeong. she had to.

"she does love me!" minjeong could feel her heart racing, drug-laced hatred filling her veins. "she just-"

"keeps choosing people aside from your loser ass?"

minjeong flinched.

she wasn't a loser. she was quiet, yes, but she was pretty. she knew how to talk to girls, and she got decent grades without even trying. she held doors open for them, and smiled at them. she always offered her train seats to the elderly, and always walked on the side closest to street.

she was nice. she wasn't a loser. girls didn't like losers.

"she's just trying to make me angry." minjeong was a good person. she deserved someone as good as her. "she's just playing hard to get. you would've fucking understand since you're easy."

jimin clenched her jaw. it wasn't her fault that girls just threw themselves onto her. she was only human. by the third person, she just couldn't resist. jimin was still loyal to y/n emotionally.

but y/n wasn't, and deep down jimin knew that maybe she never was. it gutted her knowing that her girlfriend was probably thinking of wonyoung every time the two of them kissed.

"easy? i'm easy?" jimin scoffed, leaning closer to the girl with the bloodshot eyes. "i bet that slut under some girl right now."

minjeong's stomach churned.

"no, she doesn't!" she couldn't. y/n knew better than to upset her. "she wouldn't do that to me! she loves me!"

jimin rolled her eyes. "she went home with wonyoung, remember?"

minjeong shook her head once more.

"no, she didn't!" minjeong didn't hear it, and even if she did, she knew she heard wrong. y/n was hers. only hers. "you're lying."

jimin paused.

she looked at the shorter girl, her eyes red and system full of whatever lay in aeri's kitchen. jimin wondered if minjeong was actually this deranged, or if it was all because of the weed.

"are you deaf all of a sudden?" jimin laughter halted. "she asked wonyoung to bring her home. not you."

minjeong hated jang wonyoung.

she hated the way the taller girl could make y/n smile. she hated how wonyoung could come in, and sweep her off her feet. she hated that no matter how hard minjeong tried, y/n would always notice wonyoung in a room before her.

"no..." minjeong shook her head, watching as jimin smiled at her. "she wouldn't hurt me like that."

y/n kept hurting her. it wasn't fair. she did everything. it wasn't fair.

"she doesn't give a shit about you, minjeong."

minjeong could feel the weed hitting her system full force, the pressure in her head almost unbearable. her eyes felt like it was about to pop out, and everything seemed so distant.

if y/n wasn't gonna love her, if y/n wouldn't learn to love her, she would just show her how much it hurt. minjeong would make y/n understand how badly it gutted her to see her with another girl that she wasn't supposed to be with.

y/n would understand then. she would stay away from jimin, from wonyoung, from everyone and be with her.

pain was all minjeong could feel, and all minjeong could teach.

"fuck you."

minjeong had had her first kiss with a girl named miyawaki sakura.

she was pretty, with big, doe eyes and a smile that anyone would kill for. they had met during minjeong's first year, and the journalism major had ensured that minjeong wouldn't ever be left alone. it could've been great, if it weren't for lee chaeyeon getting in the way.

minjeong had pressured the older girl, even when sakura had told her to leave her alone.

but minjeong had always been persistent.

she lunged at jimin, her lips colliding with the older girl's like two stars forming a black hole.

everything felt like fire.

she could feel the pads of jimin's fingertips, and how the chilling sensation sent shivers up her spine. the younger girl could feel their teeth clashing messily, jimin's tongue forcing its way down her throat. all she tasted was a concoction of jin, rum, and vodka as jimin's hands found their way under minjeong's shirt.

she pulled away with a gasp, letting the volleyball player strip her down into nothing but her underwear as she fumbled with the buttons of jimin's pants.

she pushed jimin onto the bed, letting the garment pool to the older girl's ankles before straddling her.

minjeong was gonna ruin her, just like jimin had ruined her life.

she leaned down, marking the volleyball player's shoulder with a bite. she didn't care if y/n saw, minjeong wanted her to see. she wanted the younger girl to know how awful it felt to know the girl she loved fucked someone else.

minjeong wanted y/n to feel her pain.

jimin's hands wandered as minjeong took off the ace's already crumpled shirt, hurrying to take off her bra along with it.

"you can't get the girl so you fuck her ex?" jimin propped herself up on her shoulders, smirking at the girl above her. "you're fucking psycho."

it felt good to know that y/n was going to regret her decisions, but it felt even better to know that minjeong would have yoo jimin wrapped around her finger in a matter of seconds.

"fuck you."

aeri uchinaga wondered why the party had died down so suddenly.

mere minutes ago, crowds of people had gathered in her living quarters, getting drunk and high out of their minds. now, there were only a few people left wandering the halls, gathering their drunk friends and ushering to get them home.

(she had seen yujin passed out in front of the laundry room door, and judging by the bottles surrounding the younger girl, she was most likely gonna stay there all night.)

she had shot her not-yet-but-hopefully-soon girlfriend, baek alex, a text, hoping that the younger girl hadn't gotten herself in another one of yena's brilliant ideas. aeri had only been met with one reply:

jimin's upstairs. i saw her an hour ago.

the message held many meanings, a couple of which ended with jimin drinking herself into a puddle of her own vomit. though usually, it had been jimin breaking a random assortment of her things in a fit of rage.

yoo jimin had always been an angry drunk.

aeri sighed, going upstairs as the remnants of the partygoers started to disappear more and more. she turned the hall, expecting to see a broken painting or a smashed-up vase.

she didn't expect to see jimin two fingers deep in a random girl.

aeri covered her eyes, looking away as she screeched. no matter how many times jimin brought a girl over, she was never gonna get used to seeing her butt naked.

(come to think of it, jimin was never naked. she hated it when people touched her.)

the mystery girl shot up, pushing jimin off of her as she covered her entire body with the only pillow left on the bed.

jimin could feel herself reeling back to reality, her face heating up. most times, she would get angry at aeri for walking in, but she usually wasn't naked most times.

"shit," jimin looked around. "um..."

aeri glanced at the two girls wide-eyed, before grabbing the door handle. she had no idea how long jimin had been up here with her, but she could take a couple guesses based on the marks that littered their bodies.

"wait," jimin called before closing the door. her heart was pumping in her chest. "please don't tell anyone."

toying with minjeong was an experience that jimin didn't think she'd enjoy. it was like striking a match and throwing it into a pool of gasoline. watching minjeong throw away everything just for her pleasure made jimin ten times more excited.

but jimin wasn't gonna let anyone know. not when minjeong could easily hold it above her head and threaten her loving relationship with y/n.

aeri nodded, eyes clenched shut.

"i'm not going to!" the uchinaga just wanted to leave and erase... that image from her mind. "why the hell would i?! it's not like she's your girlfriend or anything!"

the room rang silent, and minjeong could feel her heart suddenly drop at the thought of y/n finding out. she looked over to jimin, the exact same expression on her face.

oh...

minjeong could use this (but so could jimin).

aeri listened to the lack of protest, the air hanging dead.

"...is she your girlfriend?"

minjeong could still feel the weed in her system, and the intensity of the situation wasn't helping clear her head. jimin's gaze burned into the side of her head, turning around before she opened her mouth.

but minjeong was faster.

"um..." minjeong whispered, her heart threatening to leave her throat. "i... i am."

jimin whipped her head to look at the younger girl, mouthing 'what are you doing?' before clenching her jaw. she needed to clear this up, before aeri had gotten the wrong idea.

the ace looked at the frightened minjeong, who seemed to regret ever meeting said girl, and all she could do was smirk.

minjeong had no choice but to come back, and god, did jimin love ruining pretty girls.

"jimin settled down?" aeri furrowed her eyebrows, hand still gripped on the half-closed door.

minjeong shot jimin a questioning look. had aeri never heard of y/n?

jimin cleared her throat. "leave, aeri."

aeri nodded, eyes still clenched tight. her manicured nails snaked its way to the inside doorknob, twisting the lock before she slammed it close. she was in no way, shape, or form ever gonna mention anything about tonight to anyone. she needed that image out of her head.

she turned around, a chill of disgust running through her spine.

aeri wished she could've met jimin's girlfriend in a different way, but she was glad that her best friend finally let go of the shadow that was hwang yeji.

jimin glared at minjeong as soon as the door slammed closed.

part of her was happy that minjeong would come crawling back to her from time to time, but her stomach churned at the idea of y/n finding out. she had always been careful to not hurt her girlfriend with her rendezvous, keeping her contact names vague enough for her to know, but for y/n to never find out.

but she knew aeri loved to snoop, and she was good at it too.

"are you fucking stupid?" jimin spat out. "what if y/n finds out?"

if y/n found out, there were only two things that could happen; she would run to jimin, or she would run to her. minjeong knew that y/n would always take her side, but her gut seemed to churn at the possibility of y/n going to someone instead.

she needed this to stay quiet, to use it as leverage, to bring her y/n closer to her and away from everyone else. when the time came - if the time came - minjeong would tell her, but by then, she and y/n would already be together.

minjeong could feel the haziness starting to fade.

"do you want your friend knowing i'm your ex-girlfriend's best friend?"

"you're not special." but she was. she was everything jimin hated about herself, everything that jimin wanted to change. "you're just a body."

jimin watched as hurt spread through her face.

"was y/n just a body to you too?"

jimin had never wanted to punch someone more.

"that's different."

"i know her more than you ever will." minjeong knew every breath that y/n took, she knew which places she frequented, which food she was allergic to. she knew. "she doesn't love you either. she never has."

she was right. jimin knew she was right.

"shut up!" y/n was hers. she was her trophy. the shiny proof that jimin had stayed a good person despite every curveball life had thrown at her. she wasn't ruined, she had y/n. "you're the fucking freak sleeping with her ex!"

minjeong looked away, her face contorting to something jimin had only seen in a mirror.

"she hurt me!" minjeong gripped her pillow tighter, raising her voice. "i'm just trying to teach her a lesson, okay?"

perhaps it started as a lesson, but minjeong couldn't deny everything that had transpired between them.

"this wasn't a lesson." jimin smirked leaning down in front of the girl's face. "you enjoyed it. i know you did."

"shut up!"

minjeong did her best to push the taller girl away, but jimin was much stronger than her. all she could do was face the consequences of her actions, and how much she truly enjoyed it.

"how's y/n gonna feel about that, huh?"

but she was y/n's forever, emotionally and physically. jimin wasn't gonna stand in the way, even if she was a good fuck.

"i fucking hate you."

jimin was addicting as she was annoying.

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[compact-turtle]

Can we get some fun facts on Orion? He's such an interesting character to read about the way you write is immaculate

Of course!! Don’t know if these are fun facts lol but here’s a little bit about Orion, the yandere space explorer…

-was not meant to land on your planet. An unexpected asteroid through him off collision to his original destination. 

-weak baby with noodle arms (at least in your eyes).

- master manipulator and gaslighter. 

-likes when you accidentally hurt him (scratches him, playfully bites too hard, etc…) because it means you give him more attention. He’ll play it up saying he’s gonna die from it because humans are so weak compare to you. 

“I didn’t know I could be in this much pain. I’m afraid I’ll die from this injury. Could you hold my hand and sing me a song so I feel a bit better?” 

-a bit emotionally dumb and hasn’t realized his feelings for you. Just knows he doesn’t want to share you or your world with anyone else. 

-has two different journals. One dedicated strictly to you. Another for whatever else he deems important. 

-can do bare minimum cooking. Uhhh safer for you to do it though. 

-but amazing at cleaning and organizing your house :) 

-He says you go foraging “together” but it’s just you babysitting. You have to make sure he isn’t eaten by a creature while he’s scribbling notes in his journal. Has happened multiple times ( ；´Д｀)

-is the epitome of the kid who touches stuff at the store when their parents (you) tell them not to. 

-got offered the mission because the original explorer died. He was the only one who volunteered. The team was on a tight schedule from their superiors and had no other choice but him.(Otherwise they wouldn’t have let someone with no survival skills go) 

-complains a lot.You’ll take him on trips and he’ll complain about his his feet hurt. Ends with you carrying him. Thankfully he feels as light a feather to you so it’s not a big deal. 

-adores when you play with his hair. He enjoys the feeling of you running your fingers through it or when you braid it. 

-will die if he doesn’t receive at least one instance of physical contact . Could just be snuggling together in bed or you carrying him through the woods. 

-loves doing culture exchanges with you. He’ll tell you stories about his people and you’ll sing songs from your culture. 

-hates when you feed him vegetables. Would rather starve 

-on the other hand. Loves sweet things and has the biggest sweet tooth. 

-has become spoiled because of you. You adore your new friend so you often bring him presents. 

-tried to adopt a dangerous creature until you told him to put it back in the wild :( 

-enjoys that he doesn’t have to pay for things. Back on his planet, his salary was pretty low since he was only a junior researcher. Didn’t help that he lived in the capital where everything was expensive. 

-his diet consisted of energy drinks, caffeine, ramen noodles and candy back on his home planet

-can do a backflip if you ask (only cool trick he knows)

[andhumanslovedstories]

any advice for nursing students/new nurses?

When you buy a stethoscope, get it engraved with your name, I literally cannot tell you how much that has saved my ass. All stethoscopes look the exact same, even if you think you got a unique looking one, and they're super easy to lose, and they're a hundred plus bucks. engraved!!

There's literally so many acronyms, and everyone assumes the acronyms they know are universal, and no one is correct. Get comfortable with the phrase "remind me what [x] stands for" when someone rattles off a string of letters you don't recognize. (sometimes the person talking to you doesn't know either! whoops!!)

Ask questions all the time actually. This is the ideal time to do so and everyone will be scared if you don't.

For straight cathing patients, you can usually get a lidocaine gel that numbs the urethra, which helps with discomfort. Also for straight cathing patients, if they have a vagina, make sure you visualize the urethra before you start the whole process. You don't want to have to find it later when you're sterile and can't touch anything.

If you've never used a bed pan, it is surprisingly much harder than you would expect. familiarize yourself with them before you have to place one for the first time.

At the end of every shift, find one thing you can point at that you did and were proud of. You can be proud of helping a patient get up and walk. You can be proud that your patient's pain never got above a 4. You can be proud that you helped out another nurse's patients while they were dealing with an admit. You can be proud that you didn't get visibly mad at a patient who was screaming at you. You can be proud that you got to the end of the shift and everyone is alive. You can be proud that you realized you were in over your head and called for help. Find something each shift to be proud of, and the corollary to that is behave in ways that make it easier to be proud of yourself when you look back at the way you spent your shift

get good shoes.

prioritize sleep.

meal prep

pick a few things about yourself that are harmless, not at all intimate small talk. I also have a few fun facts about myself that I love to talk about but don't overstep any boundaries (stuff like that I'm from Virginia, that I'm part of float pool so I can tell you how this room compares to others in the hospital, I have dyed hair and people love talking about that). Draw boundaries to be personable but not inappropriate. Genuinely, practice small talk. You have small talk when things are going fine so you can have Big Talk when someone's breaking down crying or starts screaming in the hallway or wants to leave against medical advice or is furious that their visitors are gonna get searched on the way in. Build rapport before you need rapport.

Sort of similar to the last one, I try to care very deeply about my patients on shift and then forget about them when I go home. I debrief with my mom or Cyrus or my journal, and then I take a shower. The shower is my mental reset time. I tuck my nursona away and emerge as just some dipshit in a towel. Find whatever ritual helps you end your shift.

there are many ways to be a good nurse. sometimes you need a hardass. sometimes you need a cheerleader. sometimes you need a goofball. sometimes you need someone who doesn't chit chat but will always get your teeth brushed, your hands washed, and your hair braided before breakfast can even get to the floor, no matter how shortstaffed the floor is. sometimes you need someone who will talk to you at three in the morning about what the dying process is like. it is impossible to be all things to all patients. as a new nurse, you start by focusing on basic minimal competency, but pay attention to what parts of the job energize you, what parts come easy to you, and lean into those. get competent at the things you are bad at, get passionate about the things you are good at, and you'll have a better chance of building a nursing practice that you can keep up with the shit times start.

the shit times can start anytime but oooh boy do they tend to arrive at your six month mark.