#i’m not okay and i don’t think i’ll ever be

[tame-the-lion-writes]

Thinking about reader finally stumbling onto one of the dogs shifted into their human form. Maybe Soap raiding the cabinets in the kitchen for a late night snack? Reader obviously freaks tf out about a whole ass man in their house... but the rest of the force are still in their dog forms. Reader's confused why their once very protective dogs are completely okay with this strange man in their house, and why this man is claiming to be one of her dogs.

(Note that these answers are non-linear! I’ll be having fun with a few more asks/requests as if this hasn’t happened yet 😉)

All you wanted was some water to ease the dryness in your throat, but as soon as they noticed you picking up your phone from the bedside table, the dogs kept tugging at your clothes to hold you back—something they never did. You swatted them away without thinking much of it, though, too sleep-adled to think that maybe, just maybe, they were doing it for good reason.

And then you saw the man in your kitchen.

“Why are you naked.”

It wasn’t much of a question. More of a statement—or an exaggeration, really—because he wasn’t naked. He was just wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, exposing a deep V-line and a happy trail that would’ve had you drooling if not for the sheer strangeness of the circumstances. At first, you weren’t even sure if you should be afraid—because it was comedic, the way he locked eyes with you, halfway through chomping down on a spoonful of cereal from not even a bowl, but a mug.

He swallows hard, and that’s when you grab a knife—earning several barks from your dogs. At you. Not him.

“He’s literally the intruder here!” you argue back. “You bark at, like, every other guy? What about him?! He’s massive!”

“Aw, thank y—“

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

The man’s smile tightens as he slowly puts the mug and spoon down, and lifts his hands as if in surrender. 

“Easy, lass,” he continues, eyes darting between your face and the knife. “I’m a friend.”

“The fuck you are—“

“Look. Look.” He gestures back and forth between himself and the dogs, who stand in place between you two. “You’re missin’ a pup, aren’t ya? Foxhound that gets into everything? Soap? Thah’s me!”

‘Me?’ What the hell was this guy thinking? But sure enough—just as he said—Soap was missing from the group. It was just Price, Ghost, and Gaz—all tense like you. If not more so. Gaz offers a whine in negotiation, stepping forward to get you to back up a little further, away from the stranger. There’s a beg—no—an intelligent plea in the Labrador’s eyes that nearly makes you falter, unsure of reason or rhyme.

Unsure of yourself.

“That’s— that’s not possible,” you laugh nervously, reaching for the phone in your pocket. “Dogs don’t turn into people, or vice versa. Now get out of my house or I’m calling the poli—“

— “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

And now there’s a third fucking person. Standing in your kitchen. Right where Price used to be. And now the shock runs cold, adrenaline gone in place of confusion. And a quick skip through the stages of grief into acceptance.

“Well,” is all that gets out of your mouth. “Shit.”

The world spins, and everything goes black. You’re out like a light. All you see is ‘human-Price’ moving forward, then darkness, and the sensation of two arms catching you before you hit the floor.

The boys hang around until morning light after that, sitting in the living room in dead silence. At least until Gaz gives a final suggestion.

“… You think we can pass it off as a dream?”

_

Bonus Thoughts:

You do, in fact, wake up as if it were a dream. Because you’re back in bed per usual, and the house is in order, and the dogs are piled around you like nothing ever happened. You eye them all suspiciously, then slap yourself. Because what kind of weirdo imagines her pets as hot, tall, buff men? Pervert.

Meanwhile, the boys are just exchanging the quietest glances before you settle back in bed. Because for a good few seconds, they think they’ve been discovered.

Also Soap has suffered a collective *bap* from everyone because it’s what he deserves for threatening their free food supply.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (18) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: some angst ?? but it's heartwarming... smut ofc because we are so back ! jk and oc finally kiss again (and can't stop) and so he fingers her. they sort of... talk things out??? def on the right path to their happily ever after <3

//

one thing jungkook and zion have in common (aside from being each other's splitting image) is that they’re both grumpy when sick.

last night, when zion slept over at jungkook’s, he was whiny and snappy. he cried a few times, sobbing for you (he's also been going through separation anxiety with you regardless. being sick just makes it feel extra awful). it worried jungkook since whenever zion was sick, you were always around. you were always the one to take care of him, and even if jungkook wanted to help, zion would throw a fit and refuse to let him near.

he can’t blame his son, though.

jungkook is the same.

when he’s sick, he only wants you. only you could nurse the sickness away. only you could make him feel better.

as the sun came up, zion woke up in a tired, slow mood. he wasn’t snappy or grumpy per se, but he was definitely out of it. jungkook checked his temperature (it was normal) and even added oranges to his snack box for the extra vitamin c. it’s a little chilly today; the sky looks like it has plans to cry soon, so he dresses zion in an extra layer. then, he lets you know what’s going on, drops zion off at daycare, and tells zion’s educators that he’s feeling a little under the weather.

jungkook repeats over and over again: "please call me if he’s really not feeling up for it today. he doesn’t have to be sick sick, okay? just call me if he even tells you guys he’s tired. i have a meeting, but i’ll come right when it’s over… that’ll be around 11 a.m."

at 11:28 a.m., zion’s daycare calls jungkook to say that zion spent the entire morning sleeping and then woke up to throw up.

at 11:31 a.m., he texts you.

by 11:45 a.m., he rushes into the daycare, grabbing zion’s backpack and holding him with his other arm.

… and holy shit, is it awful.

zion is kicking and screaming, bawling his eyes out because he doesn’t want jungkook. he’s uncomfortable and running really hot. jungkook is trying to sign zion out as his educators quickly update him on the details of zion’s morning.

jungkook can’t hear a thing.

he just keeps thinking to himself: fuck, i wish ___ were here.

hustling to leave, jungkook’s feet come to a halt at the door.

it’s pouring rain.

he hisses, feeling like he will lose his mind in the next five seconds. everything is so overstimulating and heavy. zion’s sobs grow louder with each passing moment he’s in jungkook’s arms. zion’s backpack isn’t even zipped up properly, so some of his things are falling out—and holy fuck, why is it raining so fucking much?

then, it gets worse.

jungkook’s car is parked four blocks away. he suddenly remembers this as he scans the area and feels even more helpless.

he takes a deep breath and accepts his fate. he accepts that zion will be crying in the car the whole ride long. he accepts that the backpack he’s carrying will be empty by the second block. he accepts that he and zion will be drenched in rain and probably get sick soon, too.

he accepts his fate.

“zion, daddy parked the car far away. i’m really sorry, buddy. can you take some deep breaths for me before we go? we’re going to get wet, and it’s hard for daddy to focus if you’re crying like this—”

zion hits jungkook’s shoulders and sobs even harder. “no! i don’t want to get wet! i don’t want you! i only want mommy—”

“she’s coming, zion. mommy will be at the house—”

“no!” zion cries, shaking his head profusely. “i want mommy now!”

jungkook can’t help but tear up. zion is burning up. his small hands clutch onto jungkook’s shirt, and his face is flushed with fever. he shifts slightly in jungkook’s arms, letting out a tired whimper. jungkook’s heart twists.

he stares at the rain pouring down, watching it hit the pavement in heavy sheets.

just 4 blocks.

he’d done it a hundred times before—walked this exact route, held zion in his arms when things got tough. but for the first time in his whole fatherhood, he doesn’t know how to be one. not that he’s a pro and has known what to do for the past three years—but he was usually better than this. he knows how to calm zion down. he knows how to hold his son and walk four blocks. he knows tough days… but for some reason, right now feels impossible.

it feels like he’s stuck.

it feels like shit.

he takes a deep breath, his mind racing as he prepares to step into the rain.

“we’ll be okay,” he murmurs, more to himself than to zion, who is now resting his head on jungkook’s shoulder. every muscle in jungkook’s body is tense, ready to sprint through the storm if that’s what it takes. “daddy’s fast. okay, zi? but i’m going to need your help for extra speed. can you take a deep breath and count with me? let’s go in three, two, one—”

just as jungkook is about to step into the rain, there you are.

“zion!” your voice calls out.

you appear out of nowhere, stepping into view with an umbrella in hand. your eyes lock with jungkook’s; they’re filled with concern but somehow steady, reassuring. it’s like you know exactly when to show up, like you always do.

no call, no texts—just… there.

thank god.

jungkook exhales, feeling the weight of everything lift just a little. maybe timing isn’t something you can plan or force, but somehow, it always feels right when it comes to you. truth be told, you have this way of arriving just when everything feels like it’s slipping out of control—like the universe is telling jungkook he’s destined to wait for you.

to live life with you.

to be with you.

to love you.

zion gasps, quickly wiping his own tears.

“mommy!” he exclaims, his voice thin but full of excitement. “mommy! come here, please! i want you! okay? daddy—it’s mommy! see? over there? yellow umbrella…”

jungkook follows zion’s gaze and watches as you cross the street.

“yeah,” jungkook sighs softly, brushing a hand through zion’s damp hair. “look at that… mommy came for you, zi.”

zion smiles tiredly, his face softening despite the fever’s flush. “cos she loves me.”

“she does,” jungkook chuckles, pressing a light kiss to zion’s forehead. “i love zion too.”

zion huffs, crossing his arms weakly before whining in that small way only toddlers could. “no. i only want mommy’s love—oh, oh, oh! my mommy—” he wriggles in jungkook’s arms, reaching out towards you.

jungkook feels the shift in zion’s body, the way his little arms reach out desperately for you. it’s as if you are the only thing that could make the world feel right again.

finally, beside them, you step forward, and jungkook loosens his hold. gently, he transfers zion into your waiting arms. zion nestles against you instantly, his tired body finding comfort in the way you hold him—the way only you could.

jungkook stands there for a moment, watching you two. a small pang of something—loss, maybe—passes through him. but it isn’t about that. it isn’t about pride or who could soothe zion better.

it’s about the way zion relaxes, finally at peace in your arms, and how the pouring rain is nothing compared to the sunshine you radiate.

then, jungkook sighs. his heart is heavy and warm at the same time. with his parents taking zion over the weekend, jungkook only really had him for one cranky night and this hectic morning.

now, it’s noon, and it’s crystal clear that he isn’t enough for zion.

today, he failed.

… and that’s okay.

as much as parenting is about getting things right, it’s also about getting things wrong. this? this is what parenting is too—knowing when to step back, to let someone else be the safe place. as much as it stings, it is also filled with relief.

zion is safe.

zion is loved.

… and in the end, that’s all that matters.

as zion settles into your arms, jungkook takes the umbrella from you. he steps into the rain, holding the umbrella for you two. patting zion’s back, you whisper reassuring things into his ears. he giggles and begins to babble about how much he missed you. he requests noodles and to sleep on the couch tonight. you tell him no, that his bed is better. he doesn’t fight you. instead, he asks if he can get a lollipop for his sore throat. you grant that request.

“nam joon just sent me here by uber… but i think it left already. where’s your car?” you ask jungkook.

“it’s 4 blocks away. should I go get it—”

“it’s fine,” you decide. “let’s walk there together. are you okay? you look kind of—”

“mr. and mrs. jeon?”

you both turn your heads to see zion’s teacher come out. she has two small containers in her hand and zion’s water bottle. she jogs over despite the rain.

“oh! thank goodness i caught you two. these are zion’s—” she hands the items to jungkook. he opens zion’s bag and puts the things inside. “... and i just wanted to remind you we have show and tell next week. i meant to mention it earlier when mr. jeon was signing zion out but forgot. anyways, get home safe and get well soon, zion!”

“thank you,” jungkook nods. “thanks for calling too.”

zion’s teacher smiles warmly. “no worries! zion is so precious to us. even when he has his days… i don’t think i’m supposed to say this, but—he’s our favorite. he’s always curious and funny. he’s kind and organized for a 3-year-old… probably gets that from you two, huh? he always talks about you two. he loves you guys so much and always draws family pictures of you at home.”

your heart melts.

“... and honestly? i’ve never seen you two pick zion up together, and my colleagues and i all talk about how much you two suit each other… seeing it in person—together? wow. you look like you were destined to be a family.”

jungkook’s heart melts.

you two laugh and thank her for her kind words. they don’t make you feel awkward… if anything, they make you smile. to be known and loved—to have people believe in you two… it’s different. it’s something else.

it’s something real.

as zion’s teacher bids her goodbye, you and jungkook share a look.

“let’s go?”

jungkook nods, follows your lead, and trails a few steps behind you.

he holds the umbrella high above you and zion, making sure the rain doesn’t touch either of you. you glance back, catching a glimpse of his shoulders already soaked after just a few steps in, his hair dripping with rain while yours and zion’s remain dry.

suddenly, you feel a rush of warmth and frustration all at once.

he does this every time—always putting himself last, always making sure you and zion are okay first. it’s one of the ways he loves; you know that. quietly, without asking for anything in return. but right now, as you feel the warmth of zion’s little body against yours, dry and protected under the umbrella, something twists inside you.

fuck.

you hate it so much.

“jungkook…” you start, your voice soft, but he shakes his head before you can say more, a small smile playing on his lips.

“i’m fine,” he says, like he always does, eyes darting briefly to zion nestled in your arms, then back to you. there’s something so gentle in that look, and it’s enough to silence you. because you know—he’s doing this because he wants to, because this is how he loves. he won’t let you carry the weight alone, not even for a second.

still, it frustrates you.

watching him like this, so selfless and soaked, makes you want to pull him under the umbrella, to wrap him up and shield him the way he does for you. but you know he wouldn’t let you. you sigh, biting back the urge to protest. instead, you adjust zion in your arms and glance back at him, hoping he knows.

and he does.

because when your eyes meet his, there’s a moment—unspoken, quiet—where you don’t have to say a word. in the way you look at him. he can feel it: the gratitude, the love, the quiet ache of wanting him to take care of himself, too... and maybe he feels it too because the smile he gives you is softer this time. a little more knowing.

you wish you could pull him closer, but in your own way, you love him back. you hold zion a little tighter, taking care of what he holds dear to his heart, just as he takes care of both of you.

as the rain pours harder, he stays a step behind, soaked but steady, and you walk together in the silence, knowing without words that love isn’t always about who gets wet and who stays dry.

sometimes, it’s about who’s willing to stand in the rain for you.

the car ride was quiet. 

you sat in the back, holding zion’s hand the entire time. zion fell asleep but would shift and murmur, “mommy, mommy…” 

jungkook drove carefully and often glanced back at you two. he isn’t sure why, but he kind of really loves this moment. it reminds him of the day you two were bringing zion home from the hospital. 

he loves the way you are with his son. 

he loves you so much. 

when you get home, zion is attached to you by the hip. he throws a tantrum when jungkook pulls him away from you so he and zion could go take a bath together while you get started on chicken noodle soup for lunch. jungkook struggles and feels bad for ripping zion away from you, but doesn’t take it to heart. 

zion is just like this when he’s sick. 

once their bath is finished, zion comes running to you from the washroom. jungkook follows along, drying his hair with a towel. you pick up zion and set him on his chair, prepared to feed him. 

from the corner of your eye, you see jungkook put his jacket on and search his pockets for his keys. 

“are you leaving?” you ask, feeding zion a spoonful. “i made you lunch too. please stay—”

“i’m gonna go buy some medicine for him,” jungkook says. “and those lollipops for sore throat? does he even have a sore throat?”

you laugh. “don’t think so. we got into a bad habit of giving him them every time he’s sick though… might as well go along with it. at least they make him feel better.”

jungkook chuckles, “whatever you want, honey—”

he clears his throat. 

“sorry.”

you shrug. “don’t be.”

he offers you half a smile and ruffles zion’s hair before heading to the door. as he puts on his shoes and opens the door, you call for him once more. 

“drive safe, okay?” 

“i will.”

“go to the pharmacy on 11th. it’s the closest and they sell the apple flavour cough syrup he likes.”

“i will.”

“the lollipops are usually hidden behind their stash of kids tylenol. so look behind the tylenol.”

“i will.”

“honey?”

“mhmm?”

“go and come back quickly.”

jungkook doesn’t turn back. instead, he smiles to himself and lets his heart flutter. biting his inner cheek, he attempts to act cool. 

“i will.”

the day goes by fast. 

jungkook came back with everything zion could possibly need. after giving zion his medicine, jungkook scrafed down the lunch you made him. it didn’t take long for zion to fall asleep. in fact, he fell asleep right away. 

as you place zion on his bed, you kiss his forehead and take his temperature again. his fever is still high but it should get better in a few hours. you’ll check on him again in a bit. shutting the door to his door, you take a deep breath and head to the living room where jungkook is on his laptop, finishing up a few things for work. 

“how’s his fever?” jungkook asks. 

“still high,” you reply, taking a seat next to him on the couch. peaking over, you notice the pharmacy bag jungkook left on the coffee table. you lean forward and take it. bringing it to the kitchen with intentions to throw it away, you notice another box left inside.

reaching your hand in, you take it out thinking it’s just another type of medicine jungkook got for zion. to your surprise, it’s a box of condoms. 

condoms. 

you and jungkook don’t fuck with condoms. 

quickly, the feeling of betrayal kicks in. how could he do this? what does this even mean? was he sleeping with someone else? or worse… does he not want more babies with you? that’s fucked up. it’s so fucking fucked up. seriously, what the actul fuck—

“sorry, i was submitting something. what did you say?” jungkook calls out. 

you snap out of your thoughts and put the box back inside the plastic bag. you set it on the kitchen island and go back to join him on the couch. sitting yourself down, you inch closer to him. 

“his fever is still high… but i’ll check again after an hour or two. the medicine probably just needs to settle in… i hate sick season. not only is everyone around us sick, but zion can be—”

“mean?”

“i was gonna say needy…”

jungkook laughs sarcastically and shuts his laptop. placing it to the side, he sighs. 

“he hated me today.”

“that can’t be true—”

“oh,” jungkook snickers. “he hated me. he only wanted you. i felt so helpless when i went to pick him up. i’m glad you came… i’m guessing they contacted you too?”

you nod. “yeah. i was about to start this new case when i got the call. told nam joon i had to leave and have someone else take my client—”

wide-eyed, jungkook shifts. “you lost a client today because i—”

“no,” you say sternly. “that’s not what i meant.”

jungkook pauses. 

then, it hits him. 

it’s been like this for a while, hasn’t it? constantly miscommunicating and assuming things between you two rather than spending the time and effort to figure things out. 

“... is it okay if i stay the night? i know we’re broken up or whatever but i’d really like to stay and help out as much as i can. i know he doesn’t want me around and you probably have this shit handled—”

“stay,” you tell him, reaching for his hand. you hold it tight and run your thumb across his knuckles. you press on the little letter ‘z’ on his hand. “... and i hate this. i need you to know that i hate this.”

“what do you—”

you don’t know what comes over you, but something does. it just does and you can’t help it. maybe it’s the box of condoms. maybe it’s the fact that this is the first time you’re alone with him in 2 weeks…

maybe it’s just time. 

“i don’t want to be broken up,” you confess, eyes glossy. “i fucked up. you fucked up. this? this is so fucking fucked up… i miss you, jungkook. i know i’m confusing and i’m a pile of broken parts—but all i know is that even though we’re not together; i don’t want to be broken up. i can’t—i don’t want it. i can’t live without you, jungkook. this is so hard. i don’t want it to be this fucking hard—”

“okay, okay—”

“and i hate that you walk in the rain for us,” you choke on your own words. “next time i’m not bringing an umbrella. we’re a family, honey. either we all walk under the umbrella or we walk in the rain together.”

“okay—”

“and why do you have a box of condoms?” you blurt out. “do you not want to have babies with me anymore? or are you sleeping with—”

“don’t even fucking finish that sentence.”

jungkook glares at you, eyes piercing and heart racing. 

you gulp.

“why do you have a box of condoms?” 

he shrugs. “yoongi called and asked me to pick him up a box. he’s going through his slut era.” 

your shoulders slump.

“i’m sorry i—i shouldn’t have looked and i shouldn’t have assumed—”

jungkook shakes his head. “no, no… it’s okay. this is good. i want you to talk about stuff like this with me. to say anything to me, really. i wait for your texts and calls all day… you have no idea how much i cried after we took zion to the kids cafe. how—for a moment—it felt like we were us again. god, ___… i want us again—mmhpfftt—”

on your bed, you and jungkook make out. 

he’s on top (sort of. you two are laying together) and he uses one hand to cup your jaw. his lips feel soft and slippery as you reach and deepen the kiss. 

jungkook slips his tongue in every now and then, exploring your mouth as if it’s his first time kissing you… and by how he does this; it truly does feel like that. he kisses you so good, it’s hard to pull away. you don’t need air. you need him and his fucking kisses. 

“missed you,” he murmurs against your lips. 

you smile and pucker up. 

he kisses you again. 

“love you.”

you giggle as he digs himself into the crook fo your neck. 

“yah, i’m gonna be bad if you don’t say you love me back.”

“bad?”

“bad.”

you laugh and shift.

he pops his head back out and gives you a playful glare. staying silent, he takes that as a sign. before you know it, you feel him tugging your pajama shorts and underwear down. you gasp as he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucks on them, and then slips them between your fold without uttering a warning. 

“w-wait—”

jungkook crashes his lips onto yours. he kisses you tender and soft, distracting you from the fact that he just shoved a finger inside you. 

you moan as you feel him curl inside. he pumps his fingers in and out, then uses his thumb to circle your clit. you pull away from him, and he smirks as he watches your facial expressions change. 

your eyebrows furrow, then they don’t. 

your mouth parts and tiny moans escape your puffy lips. 

the corner of your lips twitches every time jungkook hits the right spot. 

it’s all just so beautiful. he loves seeing how pretty you are when you take him. he can’t help but lean in and kiss you every so often. 

jungkook continues to finger you. your pussy is so wet, it’s a breeze finger fucking it. jungkook also can’t fucking look away. god, he loves watching you. he loves how you shut your eyes and murmur his name. he loves that you pout every time you want him to kiss you… which he does. he gives it to you. all the kisses in the world—he gives you his. 

 “what’s the matter?” jungkook teases you. “why you making that face?”

you gasp as jungkook fastens his speed. he rubs you like there’s no tomorrow. 

“h-holy sh-shit!” you cry, reaching to hold onto his wrist. "uh, uh, mhmm! f-fuck..."

he lets you. 

jungkook cups your jaw with his other hand and looks into your pretty eyes. your eyes sparkle with desperation—a plead if you will. 

make me cum. 

“cute,” jungkook hisses. “so fucking cute.” 

you mimic his hiss as he continues to finger you. your stomach twitches and your hips jolt. he lets out a light laugh when your body reacts like this. 

“d-don’t laugh. takes y-you like 5 seconds t-to cum when i suck your d-dick—”

as your lips meet again—this time—time stops. 

the world around you two fades into a soft blur.

the warmth radiating from jungkook ignites something deep within you. it’s a gentle exploration at first, a soft brush of lips that sends a thrill coursing through your veins. You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and inviting, urging you closer.

the kiss deepens, transforming from hesitant sweetness to a fervent dance of longing. he adds another finger, earning a moan from you. he snickers against your lips. regardless, there’s a softness to the way he holds you. there’s a tenderness that belies the heat building between you two. every gentle press of his mouth is like an unspoken promise, a connection that draws you in, making you forget the rest of the world.

making you forget about time. 

you responds eagerly, leaning into him, feeling the pulse of their shared rhythm. his lips are a perfect fit against yours. it’s intoxicating. the way he kisses you is a mix of passion and reverence, as if every moment spent in this embrace is sacred. 

the taste of him lingers—sweet and a little bit electric, leaving you craving more.

soon, his hand on your jaw slides down to the hem of your frilly top. you comply to his hints and slide your spaghetti straps off. he then tugs your top down to your stomach, revealing your breasts. eagerly, he brings palms them. then, he brings his hand back to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss further. you can feel his heartbeat matching yours, a silent conversation between their souls. 

in this moment, there’s no past, no future—only the here and now. 

“f-fuck—” you pull away, feeling the rushing burn and intensity of your climax. "honey—"

“what’s wrong, honey?” jungkook messes with you. “what’s the matter?”

“i’m gonna—nghhh!”

jungkook finishes you off. he fingers you fast and hard. you lose your breath, trying to soak in this orgasm. as you reach your high, you feel it. as much as you want to tell him to slow down and stop; you can’t. you can’t because you know what’s coming—

you squirt. 

“oh my god, oh my god, oh m-my—”

“fuck. yeah? that’s it, mama.” jungkook mumbles, taking his fingers out and gently rubbing in between your folds. your pussy tightens and you honestly see stars all around the room. 

jungkook catches this look and chuckles. he leans in, kissing you once more. you chase after his lips when he pulls away. catching your breath, your foreheads touch. both slightly dazed, you pucker your lips and kiss his cheeks and neck. then, you catch his gaze, a mix of mischief and sincerity in his eyes, and know they’ve crossed a threshold. 

it’s more than just a kiss; it’s a promise of what’s to come, something profound that lingers in the space between them.

“love you.”

“love you too.”

jungkook wakes up as he feels zion climbing into bed with you. sleepily, he places the back of his hand on zion’s forehead, but zion shifts away, groggy and fussy, swatting jungkook’s hand aside before snuggling closer to you.

you shift and reach over to feel zion’s forehead; he lets you.

“still has a fever,” you say, your voice dry and half-asleep. with your eyes still closed, you decide, “no daycare today.”

jungkook hums in agreement, feeling the warmth radiating from his son. he then moves closer to you two, putting his arm around zion. but zion huffs, grumbling in annoyance, and moves jungkook’s arm away, throwing his own over your body instead. you wrap your arms around zion, feeling his small frame relax against you.

jungkook sleepily opens his eyes and can’t help but feel left out.

“i hate you,” he groans, a playful pout forming on his lips. “why does he hate me so much when he’s sick?”

you let out a sleepy laugh, glancing at zion's scowling face. his little brow is furrowed, and he mutters, “daddy, stop. i don’t like you.”

the comment makes you chuckle. you hold zion tighter and kiss his cheeks, but he scrunches his face in irritation, clearly only wanting you to soothe him.

jungkook huffs, sitting up in disbelief. “you know he loves you—”

“i’m making breakfast,” jungkook mumbles, leaning over to kiss the top of your head. “want some coffee?”

you hum, your eyes still heavy with sleep. “i’d love some coffee,” you tell him. “... but i don’t have a coffee maker.”

jungkook nods, fully gaining consciousness now. “that’s fine. i’ll go out and buy some. i’ll be back.”

“okay,” you yawn, smiling at him. “sounds good, honey.”

as he gets up, zion whines softly, shifting closer to you, his little body still grumpy and unwilling to be touched by anyone but you. he buries his face in your side, and you can’t help but smile at the way he clings to you, seeking comfort while remaining stubbornly resistant to jungkook’s affection.

by the time you and zion wake up and wash up, jungkook has a whole breakfast spread ready on the kitchen island.

“wow!” you say with excitement. “zi, look! daddy made so much breakfast—”

“no.” zion turns his cheek. "no thank you daddy."

“no? no thank you daddy?” jungkook chimes in, approaching zion. he offers his arms and zion turns his cheek at his own father. 

“no daddy. only mommy.” 

jungkook hisses. “yah, zion… it’s a little much now. i’m beginning to take it personally.” 

you laugh and reach for him. placing your hand on jungkook’s cheek, you run your thumb against his lips. “hi, honey. good morning. thanks for breakfast.”

jungkook smiles and leans over to you, ignoring zion being trapped in the middle. he kisses you softly. 

“good morning, beautiful—”

“no!” zion pushes jungkook’s chest. “stop it. my mommy. no kissing my mommy.”

jungkook rolls his eyes. “zi, do you know you wouldn’t exist right now if i didn’t kiss mommy?”

“honey!”

jungkook laughs and playfully pokes zion. at first, zion doesn’t like it but he breaks character and cracks a smile. soon enough, he begins to laugh and reaches for jungkook. happily, jungkook takes his child and shows him all the food he prepared. 

you watch them and can’t help but just feel… good. relieved and happy. 

it’s been a long time since you felt this way. 

jungkook hands you your coffee. you thank him and sip it. it tastes good. it tastes familiar, it tastes comforting… it tastes like it’s exactly what you need. 

“oh,” jungkook reaches inside his pocket and takes a box out. “this is for you.”

tiffany and co. 

you look at him, eyes wide and throat dry. 

jungkook bounces zion a few times before swinging him around. he then puts him down and points to his toys on the living room floor. zion smiles and runs to his toys. while jungkook is bent down, he changes his position and settles on one knee. 

he looks up at you.

“when i said that your career got in the way of us—that’s not what i meant to say. what i meant to say is that i missed you. back then, it felt like every time you came home; you just came home. you weren’t coming home to me—”

“jungkook, please understand that—”

“no,” he sniffs. “part of me fears that if i understand, i’ll agree with you—that we’ve messed up too much to fix this, that this is where we end. but i refuse to accept that. so, here’s my conclusion: even when i don’t understand you, i’ll love you through it. i will see through it. as crazy as it sounds, i believe in you more than myself. you won’t let me down, okay? i want to understand, even if i keep failing. just let me try—for the rest of my life. i love you, ___. i want to come home. i want to come home to you.”

he then opens the box and reveals the ring. 

it’s beautiful. 

“___, will you marry me?”

yes.

you want to say yes.

instead, you say; “what about new york?”

jungkook swallows.

“the offer is mine for one more week,” he explains. “new york is mine if i want it… but you’re what i want.”

“jungkook…”

“please,” he begs. “i don’t want to choose.”

you take a breath. 

“are you asking—no—telling me to?” you ask, your heart racing.

he doesn’t answer, and silence stretches between you, thick with unspoken words. each second feels like a lifetime, the weight of his gaze pulling you in. you can feel your pulse quicken, a mix of excitement and fear swirling inside you.

“is it really one or the other?” you finally ask, breaking the tension.

“i don’t know,” he replies, his voice barely above a whisper.

what does it mean to choose?

to say yes to one dream over another? the prospect of new york glimmers like a distant star, bright and promising, yet here in this moment, everything else fades. it’s just the two of you, the air is thin (as my waist).

you want to say yes, to embrace all the hurt and finally take it all... but doubts creep in—what if you choose him and he regrets it? what if you both lose everything? the future looms ahead, uncertain and daunting, but there’s also a warmth in your chest, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, love is enough because timing is on your side. that maybe, after all these years falling asleep next to him; you two dream the same dream.

“jungkook,” you finally breathe, feeling the weight of your decision. the world outside blurs as you focus on the man in front of you, the man who has laid his heart bare. can love really be enough to hold you both together?

his eyes search yours, filled with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. in this moment, every hesitation fades. you know that whatever you choose will shape not just your future, but both of yours.

you take a deep breath, the anticipation heavy in the air, and feel the gravity of the moment.

as you look into his eyes, you see a reflection of your own uncertainty mingled with hope. there’s something electric between you, an unspoken understanding that transcends words. the way he holds your gaze makes your heart race, a silent promise hanging in the balance.

time seems to stretch like a taut string, each heartbeat echoing in the silence as you search for answers in each other’s eyes. the world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this suspended moment. in this stillness of you and jungkook, you two want the same things;

for time to be on your side.

for love to be enough.

for the choice to be right.

[themultifanshipper]

Do you think you could do something like this

https://www.tumblr.com/themultifanshipper/759431110157631488/quiet-innocent-reader-x-lando-like-lando-finds

Maybe with Oscar ( love your writing)

If Oscar had to describe your sex life in one word : Vanilla.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that! God knows how much the two of you enjoyed the sex you had. You weren’t very experienced when you met Oscar, and you were quite a shy person.

Which is why Oscar was so shocked when he found what appeared to be a list of your kinks just sitting there when he got up to make his morning coffee.

Fun fact, this request was sent over a month ago, and i only have a couple more to do before i can get to my own stuff lmao

Warnings: innocent reader, Smut, PinV sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mention of lots of kinks n stuff

He hadn’t meant to get a glimpse into the inner workings of your sexual psyche, but really, who leaves something like that on the kitchen counter???

As he read it over and over again, his cock twitched in interest and got progressively harder until he put it down, the words seared onto his brain forever.

He tried to have a cold shower but just ended up jerking off furiously to completion imagining doing all the things from your list.

But as soon as he got out of the shower and dried off, he realized he was still achingly hard. He decided to put on a pair of his loosest joggers and go about his day while he waited for you to come back from work.

It wasn’t easy, but he managed to answer a whole two emails, internally debating the moral implications of communicating with his bosses while sporting an erection.

Then he jerked off again.

It did take the edge off for a bit, but every time he thought about it during the day he couldn’t help but fist his cock at the thought of all your filthy fantasies.

When you got home, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, and you did your usual routine: shower, skincare, dinner with a glass of wine, followed by watching something with Oscar, the two of you huddled up together on the couch.

That’s when you started noticing Oscar’s behaviour.

It was very subtle, but you could tell he wasn’t at all focused on the movie, periodically fidgeting around uncharacteristically. Oscar was usually very settled, and tonight it was like he couldn’t keep still for more than 30 seconds. You also noticed his breathing was irregular, often getting shallower as he fidgeted.

Oscar couldn’t care less about what was happening on the screen, his brain was focused on the same thing it had been all day, that damn list.

And he’d been hard all day, which certainly didn’t help his internal crisis.

“Oscar” you sighed, pausing the movie “Talk to me, tell me what’s going on with you tonight”

“Nothing’s wrong, why would there be something wrong?” his mouth said, but his flushed cheeks were proof that he was hiding something.

If looks could kill, the one you gave him would have certainly done the trick.

“I… full honesty?” he asked quietly.

You nodded “Full honesty”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Okay, but you can’t get mad at me”

You narrowed your eyes at him “That’s not a promise I can make, but I’ll do my best”

He bit his lip before taking your hands in his.

“I uh… I found your list”

You just stared at him. “What list?”

“This one…” he took the piece of paper out of his pocket where it had been burning a metaphorical hole in his hip ever since he’d found it.

He handed it to you, but you didn’t need to unfold it to know what it was. I was a bright pink piece of paper that had been ripped out of your diary the night before.

You completely froze, panic overtaking you.

“Oh my god. Oscar…” You couldn’t look him in the eyes as you tried to explain “you weren’t meant to find that I’m so sorry! I was going to throw it away this morning and I guess I put it down and completely forgot about it. Fuck- please don’t think I’m weird or whatever and just forget about it, okay? Please?”

You put your head in your hands and whined in distress. This couldn’t be happening. Your loving boyfriend had just learned about your depraved fantasies, and he was never going to see you the same way again.

“I can’t forget about it baby, I spent the entire day jerking off about it”

You head snapped up to finally look into his eyes, your jaw hanging in disbelief. You could tell he was dead serious and your gaze slowly trailed downwards towards his pants, where you could tell he was hard, then back up to his face to find him biting his lip so hard it was turning white.

“you-  what?”

“Sweetheart, I got so hard when I read it, I almost got in my car to come and get you from work. I want to do every thing on that list with you” he leaned closer to you and whispered “Every. Single. Thing.”

His arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, lips coming to brush against your neck. “especially number 3…”

You glanced at the list, seeing what he was referring to and gasped.

“Oscar!”

He chuckled into the crook of your neck.

“Who knew you were so dirty, hmm? Where have you been hiding all this time?”

“I- I didn’t know how to ask” you stuttered as he nipped at the skin of your shoulder.

“That right? Well ask me now, then” he said and you frowned in confusion.

“What?”

“Ask me. Go down the list, and ask me to do those things to you…”

His lips trailed down your body and his hands pushed you to lay down on the sofa as you spluttered in confusion. “I don’t- what?”

“What’s the first thing on the list?” he asked, he knew of course, but he needed to hear you say it.

You blushed, checking the list.

“Choking…”

“Then ask me to choke you”

You shuddered as his mouth continued downwards and his hands spread your legs, one of them pushing your flimsy pyjama shorts to the side to expose you to him.

“Oscar what-“

“I want to see how wet you get just from saying it, go on then.” He ordered and you keened as a finger dipped through your barely moist folds.

“I want you… to uhm” your blush deepened and Oscar smiled at you condescendingly.

“Go on baby, you can do it”

You gulped.

“I want you to choke me” you squeezed your eyes shut at the admission, but Oscar was having none of it.

“Now fucking look at me and ask me again”

You gasped and your eyes flew open to look at him.

“I want you to choke me!”

“Good girl” he stroked your thigh “Next thing?”

You glanced at the list still clutched tightly in you hands.

“Spanking.”

Oscar cocked his head to the side. “What about spanking?”

Your jaw clenched, the fucker knew how to get what he wanted.

“I want you to spank me”

He smiled and nodded for you to continue.

“I want you to fuck me over the balcony for everyone to see” you said, and Oscar’s pupils dilated as he used his fingers to spread you open for him.

“Yeah? Want everyone to see how fucking filthy you actually are?” You whined as his thumb came to dip inside you briefly before rubbing it in slow circles over your clit.

“I want you to degrade and praise me…”

He felt like he was barely holding on to his sanity at this point.

“That’s so hot, fuck.” He palmed himself through his sweats “You want to be my good girl yeah? Want to be my good little slut? Only thing you’re good for anyway…”

You whimpered, his words making your whole body heat up, and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I want you to fuck my mouth”

He had to grip himself through his pants to ground himself, your words having an enormous effect on his composure.

Where had his sweet little innocent girlfriend gone?

“I’ll fuck your mouth baby, make you fucking drool for it, god you’d look so pretty taking me down your throat”

You were definitely wet now, and he took the liberty of sliding a finger inside you and hooking it upwards just to watch you squirm as he rubbed that special spot inside you.

“I want you to tie me up and force me to take it” you said breathlessly.

The noise he let out at that was animalistic as his wide eyes found yours and his jaw went slack as he pulled his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself.

“You have no idea how hot you’d look all tied up and helpless under me baby, it’s making me so hard just thinking about it..”

You moaned as he added a second finger inside you.

“I want, fuck- I want you to use me, and fill me up with your cum whenever you want”

“Shit.” He hissed “Fuck baby, I’m going to fill you up so good, you'll see…”

“Please”

You hadn’t realised how close you were getting, but Oscar’s expert fingers were making you delirious as you continued.

“I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, want to cry from how good you feel inside me, wanna beg for your cock”

Oscar growled and pulled his fingers out.

“Then beg”

He settled over you, putting his weight on you, his dick resting against your folds as he panted into your mouth.

“Beg for my cock, slut”

You were so fucking turned on. Dominant Oscar was something new, but so, so incredibly hot you would have done absolutely anything to have him inside you at that moment.

“Please, please Osc, I need it. I need your cock so bad, please!”

He growled and slid in to the hilt without warning, making you moan into the heated kiss he was currently giving you to distract you. He was thick and the stretch was delicious as his cock dragged along your walls, making you see stars.

He started a deep, hard pace and his hips slapped against yours, obscene sounds filling the room.

“Fuck baby, so fucking wet for me. This what you wanted all along? For me to fucking ruin you on my cock?”

“Yes, Oscar, fuck!”

He chuckled darkly.

“That’s a good girl, so fucking tight, You’re getting close aren’t you? I can sweet your sweet pussy clenching around me, trying to keep me inside...”

He gripped your hips harder and angled his thrusts upwards, nailing your g-spot, and you were a goner. White spots danced in your vision as the pleasure overcame you, cunt spasming around Oscar.

“Perfect, perfect cunt. And it’s all fucking mine” he growled as he finally spilled inside you, filling you to the brim and forcing a pathetic whimper out of you at the new feeling.

Oscar had never come inside you before, and it was insanely hot. The feeling of your slick, hot walls pulsing around him was pure heaven and he couldn’t wait to test everything on that list.

After you’d regained your breath, you chuckled silently to yourself while stroking Oscar's back.

If this is what you got for leaving your list out, maybe you should tell Oscar about your box of toys in the in the back of your closet…

[joeyb1989]

uh oh, i’m falling in love* - joe burrow

summary: after the end of your toxic relationship, you find yourself falling for your roommate.

word count: 4.1k

pairing: joe burrow x reader

warnings: smut, fluff, minor angst, cussing

a/n: okay. i am so sorry if this is bad yall. i tried my best to fix it, so if it is bad… don’t tell me😍 this might be pure yap. i hope you all enjoy💗

even though this fic takes place in December of last year, Joe is not hurt!

this is part two — part one

3 months later - December 2023

Your eyes slowly opened as sunlight entered the room through your sheer curtains. You never liked mornings in your relationship with Jake. You knew that your morning would start with an argument and your night would end with one. Ever since the breakup, you’ve learned to value your mornings. They now bring calm, peace, and tranquility to your day. 

You sat up in your bed, stretching your limbs as the smell of coffee brewing downstairs put a small smile on your face. “Why does he have to be so sweet?” you whispered to yourself, a content sigh escaping your lips.

After your daily routine of skincare, brushing your teeth, applying a small amount of makeup, and getting dressed, you started down the stairs of your and Joe’s shared home.

“Morning, Y/n,” Joe smiled once he was aware of your presence. His appearance almost made you choke on the saliva in your mouth. He was standing in the kitchen flipping the pancakes he was cooking while shirtless. You’ve seen Joe shirtless before, but his body will always amaze you. It looked like it took people years to craft him from gold. Your eyes slid down his body, seeing his Seinfeld sweatpants hanging deliciously low on his waist. Your gaze fixed on his golden treasure tail, smirking to yourself knowing what it led to.

“Good morning Joe,” you smiled, walking over to him, “Pancakes look good. You’ve really improved since the first time you made them.”

Flashback to your first morning in the house

“There you are. I was beginning to think that you were gonna stay in the shower forever,” Joe said as you walked into the kitchen freshly out of the shower, with a small limp in your step.

“I’ll have you know that the warm water helped my… sore muscles,” you retorted, growing embarrassed at the thought of the night before.

“From moving all your stuff in?” Joe smirked, taking a drink of his orange juice, knowing the real answer.

“Don’t even,” you giggled, your lips smiling when Joe handed you a cup of coffee after you sat down at a barstool.

“I made you some coffee, I hope you like it,” Joe scratched the back of his neck as you took a sip, “If you don’t I can make you another. I just wanted to be nice and-”

“Joe,” you took one of his hands in yours, “It’s perfect. Thank you. What is this? Pumpkin spice?”

“Yeah, I remember in high school when you would bring a pumpkin chai into Calculus class every day during the fall,” Joe sheepishly smiled, “So I figured you would like this.”

“Can you even blame me, though? Drink this,” you said as you handed the coffee cup back to him to take a sip.

Even though he hesitated at first, he took a sip from the coffee mug, nodding his head in contentment. “Damn, I can make a pretty sick cup of coffee,” Joe boasted

“Dare I say: better than Starbucks,” you giggled, “You know if football doesn't work out for you, maybe you should become a barista.”

“Thank you though, seriously,” you smiled, suddenly aware that you were still holding on to one of his hands.

“Anything for you,” repeating his words from the bar last week, subconsciously leaning in towards one another. The smell that went up your nose made you stop your actions, “Is something… burning?” you asked

“What?” Joe asked, still close to your face from how fogged his brain was.

“Do you not smell that?” you asked as you saw his eyes go wide when the realization hit him.

“Shit!” Joe said as he looked over at the burnt and smoking pancakes. He turned off the stove as endless giggles and laughs escaped your lips. Even though he was upset with himself that he let the pancakes he was making for you burn, your laugh made his frown turn into a smile.

There was no doubt about it, he was falling in love with you.

End of flashback

“Oh my god, that was so funny,” you laughed thinking about the memory.

“Yeah, was it funny when you had to fix us breakfast because you were scared I was gonna burn down the house?” Joe chuckled, handing you the vanilla coffee he prepared for you.

“You still helped though,” you smiled, taking a sip of the warm drink

“You’re a better cook than me anyway,” Joe said

“Well, by the looks of it, you’re becoming quite a good chef, Burrow,” you teased, looking at the strawberry pancakes, your absolute fav, that he was placing onto two plates.

“Learned from the best,” Joe poked your nose before it voluntarily scrunched up from the contact.

As you two ate breakfast together, you two talked about each other’s plans for the day. Joe was going to go to practice and watch film later in the day. Your plans were to go to work, work-out, and go to the grocery store before you come home.

A part of you wanted to stay with Joe all day. You just wanted to watch movies or shows with him all day while he made random comments. You wanted to hear his giggles and the jokes he would make. You were honestly doing anythingWas this a typical thought that someone would have for a friend? 

Later that day

After everything on your agenda for the day was done, you were sitting in the living room watching a random episode of Friends when Joe strutted into the house. His loose-hip walk making your thoughts run wild.

“Hey, Y/n,” Joe smiled as he grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, before plopping onto the couch next to you.

“Hey, Joe,” you smiled back, “You want some popcorn?”

“Sure,” Joe grinned, taking a handful of the snack, “We haven't seen this episode together before, have we?”

“Mm.mm,” you shook your head, “This is in season five, I think we’re at the end of season three. I have this episode on because it’s just my favorite episode of the series.” After moving in together, Joe insisted that you two should have “roomie bonding time.” Which consisted of two nights a week where one of you would pick a show or movie to watch to watch for a couple hours. You always opted for Friends or Love Island. You never expected Joe to get so invested in either, but the man will shock you sometimes.

“What makes it your favorite?” Joe questioned, taking a drink of his water. His prominent Adam's apple bobbing, making it hard to focus on anything else.

“Uh- it- um… it’s hard to explain without spoiling anything for you. Let’s just say that a certain two characters hooked up, began secretly dating, and everyone finds out about it this episode.”

“First part sounds familiar,” Joe smirked, thinking back to their first night living together.

“I wish it was all familiar,” you thought, thinking of the love the two characters on the show shared.

That’s when it hit you. You were in love with Joe Burrow. You had been ever since that day in the bar, when Joe showed you how you deserved to be treated. You have been every day since then. Did he still feel the same? Did the night you two shared mean the same to him as it did to you? They always say being in love feels like warmth, like a fire that has been built for you. You definitely felt like that with Joe, but you doubt he felt like that with you.

“Yeah,” you chuckled nervously, not really sure how to reply to that.

“I still can’t believe that we…” Joe trailed off, rubbing his sweaty palms on his shorts.

“Had sex?” you bluntly said.

“Yeah,” Joe chuckled, his eyes widening at the memories.

Flashback to the night you moved in

“Awkward,” Joe joked as the movie you two were watching showed a particularly spicy sex scene between two characters.

After unpacking all your stuff, Joe insisted that he would make you dinner for your first night there. Even though he apologized many times that it might not be the best, you swore that he could be chef if the whole football thing fell through. He fixed chicken and pasta, paired with some veggies, with some wine to help you both relax after a long and tiring day. Both of you were definitely a little tipsy now that most of the bottle was empty, making your words a little more bold than they usually would be.

“I feel like I’ve been sex-deprived for a million years,” you drunkenly sighed, taking another drink of your wine.

“What do you mean,” Joe giggled, being caught off-guard.

“It- it doesn't matter,” you muttered, sulking to yourself.

“Tell me,” Joe replied, scooting closer to you.

You hesitated for a moment. Did you really want to unload all your problems on him? You know what, fuck it. This man’s heard worse from you. “I haven't had sex in almost two years. Jake said that I didn't deserve to feel good because I wasn't sexy enough or something. He would make me get him off, though,” you sighed, trying your best not to meet Joe’s eyes.

“That’s fucking bullshit. If you could see yourself in my eyes…” Joe trailed off, rubbing a hand down his face. How could someone think that you didn't deserve to feel good? You were the most incredible looking girl he had ever seen.

“What? Do you… think I’m sexy?” you asked, finally meeting his gaze. Taking note of how darker his eye color had gotten.

“Oh, the sexiest,” Joe said, leaning in even more. He was so close you could feel his breath on your face. “If you were mine, I would make you feel good every day of the week, baby girl.”

Your breath hitched as you felt his hand graze your waist as your gaze flicked down to his soft lips. “I wanna kiss you so bad,” you blurted.

“There’s nothing stopping you,” Joe voiced, leaning in and capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. His lips were so soft and fit to yours like two missing puzzle pieces. His hands pulled you into his lap as your tongues entwined with each other. “Y/n,” he groaned as you started grinding your crotch on his. Joe stood up, with you still in his arms, and strided for his bedroom.

Joe sat you down gently on his bed before he went back to kissing you. His lips trailed down your lips to your neck as he began searching for your sweet spot. Your hands tangled themselves with his hair, pulling him closer to you. “Fuck, Joey,” you moaned, embarrassingly loud when he found it. “Feel good?” Joe smirked.

“Mhm,” you whimpered. His hands went under your shirt, prompting you to lift your arms to let him pull it off. You were left in just your red lace bra, which made Joe go crazy.  “This is okay, right?” Joe asked, reaching behind you to touch the clasp of your bra.  You nodded your head in agreement, “Yeah,” you smiled up at him. His kind gesture made you feel so comfortable and safe.

He unclasped your bra and you felt suddenly insecure when his gaze fell on your breasts. As your arms went to cover them up, he pulled them away. You laid down on the bed, as he crawled over top of you. “You are… literally perfect, Y/n,” Joe smiled, kissing each breast. “No reason to hide when you’re the most gorgeous girl on this planet… or any planet, for that matter,” Joe cooed, alluding to his words from a couple of weeks ago.  He kissed down your jaw and neck, before peppering kisses to the valley between your breasts.

“Joe,” you whimpered as his tongue swirled around your nipple. Your hands went under his shirt and rubbed his soft skin. You watched as he detached from your boob, whipping his shirt off. He reached his hand down and pulled down your shorts, leaving you in nothing but your panties – which matched your bra.

He trailed his fingers down to your core, his eyes widening at how wet you were. “Damn, baby,” Joe smirked, his digits teasing your clothed entrance. “This wet and I’ve barely touched you.” Your body sizzled with anticipation as you watched Joe kiss down your belly until he reached your core. “Eyes on me, mamas,” Joe growled. You looked down just in time to see him drag the red lace down with his teeth. 

Fuck was that hot.

He licked a stripe up your folds, earning a whimper from you. Joe set a veiny hand on your thigh, keeping your legs open, as he slid his tongue inside you. Joe moaned against you when you threaded your fingers into his hair, grinding against his face.

Several minutes later, you felt the pressure in your belly building up, signaling that your release was close. “Joe,” you whimpered, “I- I’m-”

“Shh, I know, I’m here,” Joe smiled, adding a finger into you as his skilled mouth attached to your clit. You could've sworn that you were seeing stars. “Just let yourself feel good.”

“Mmm, Joe,” you moaned when he added another finger, extremely loud but you didn't seem to care because you felt so good. No other guy has ever made you feel this good. Physically or mentally. Joe was physically making you feel good with his fingers and mouth, but he was mentally making you feel good with his soft praise, comforting actions, and the way he was worshiping you. As your orgasm was getting closer and closer, you suddenly felt a gush of wetness down below you, followed by several moans from Joe.

“Oh my god-” you shrieked when the realization hit you. “Joe, I’m so sorry-”

“For what?” Joe interrupted, coming out from between your thighs, looking like a kid in a candy store. Your juices covered his mouth and chin, and a smirk danced across his lips. “Squirting?” he asked, wiping his chin with his fingers before bringing them up to his mouth to clean them off.

“I just… I don’t know,” you whispered, your cheeks turning beet red from embarrassment.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. That was fucking hot,” Joe grinned. He leaned over top of you, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss. “Taste yourself? You taste good, don't you?”

“Joe, I need you,” you whimpered, already ready for my action despite your intense high just a few moments ago.

“Whatever you need, baby,” Joe whispered into your ear before shoving his shorts and undies off. He gave himself a few pumps as he looked deeply into your eyes. “If I’m too rough, if you want me to stop, do something different, or anything, don’t hesitate to tell me. You’re safe with me.”

“You’re so…” you trailed off, looking at his cock. Guess they don’t call him “Big Dick Joe” for nothing.

“Yeah,” Joe chuckled, lining his tip up with your entrance, “but I promise I’ll go easy on you.”

“Fuck,” you whimpered as he pushed a couple inches into you, stopping when he noticed discomfort on your face. “Don’t stop,” you said when he did. Even though there was discomfort at first, it was quickly replaced by pleasure.

You both moaned out once he was fully settled. “You can move,” you reassured him before he set a slow pace, but quickly sped up when he got lost in the feel of you.

“You feel so good, Y/n,” Joe groaned, cupping the back of your leg and placing it on his shoulder, allowing him to go deeper. You felt like you were floating, but you needed more. “Joe,” you panted, “Fuck me- fuck me harder.” Joe’s eyes widened at your words, “Are- are you sure?”

“Fuck yes,” you whimpered as his relentless pace sped up even more. The tip of his cock was ramming into your cervix with each thrust.

A few minutes later, you felt yourself on the blink of release for the second time tonight. Joe knew you were close as your walls were rhythmically squeezing him. “Jesus,” Joe groaned, feeling him close to his own release, but tonight was about you. He needed you to feel good, so he, somehow, picked up the pace of his thrusts even more, sending you straight to heaven.

“Fuck, I’m- cumming,” you moaned as you felt the pressure in your belly build up once again. 

“Shit, Y/n,” Joe groaned, as he too was close.

“Joe!” you screamed as your high washed over you. Joe continued to fuck you through your orgasm, wanting you to feel good for as long as you could. Soon, you felt ropes of Joe’s hot cum seep into you, followed by his own moans of pleasure.

“Are- are you good?” Joe panted. You nodded, the euphoric high making you glow. Joe laid his head on your chest as the two of you tried to: one, catch your breaths, and two, wrap your minds around what had just happened.

A few moments later, Joe unwrapped himself from around you and headed into his bathroom, coming back a few minutes later with a towel to clean you up. He was extra gentle with you since he knew that you would be awfully sore.

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him as he threw the towel in the hamper. He crawled back into bed next to you before pulling you into him and kissing the crown of your head. “No need to thank me, it’s what you deserve.”

“I cannot believe-” you said

“Shh, we’ll talk about it in the morning,” Joe promised

“Goodnight, Joe,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his soft skin

“Goodnight, Y/n,” Joe smiled back, pulling you even closer to him.

End of flashback

“It was crazy hot, though,” Joe smirked, his gaze flickering down to your lips but he stopped himself when he remembered the talk you had the next morning.

Flashback to the morning after

“Goodmorning,” a raspy voice above you called as you opened your eyes.

“Morning, Joe,” you smiled, kissing his cheek, smiling even more when you noticed his flushed cheeks.

“Are you sore?” Joe asked, softly rubbing your back. His kindness, raging bedhead, and morning voice made you want to pounce on him.

“Yeah,” you winced, stretching, “I’ll be alright, though.”

“Well… let me just hold you for a bit, then I’ll make breakfast while you shower,” Joe smiled, which turned into a straight line when he remembered that you weren't his. “Unless… you don’t want to.”

“No, that sounds perfect,” you reassured, moving back into his arms. A few minutes of silence go by before you speak up. “Joe?”

“Hm,” Joe hummed, the thoughts in his head running wild. He was crazy about you, but you had been through so much lately.

“What does this mean for us?” you questioned, staring into his loving, blue eyes.

“You tell me,” Joe said, “I know what you’ve been through. I’ll wait for you.”

“Joe… I really like you. Like I really really like you,” you chuckled, “I just… need some time.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Joe repeated, “for as long as you need.”

“Joe, you don’t need to do that. Go out and live your life. If we’re meant to be, we’ll be when we’re both ready,” you soothed.

End of flashback

Joe did wait though. He’s been on one date in the last three months… one that he typically doesn't like to remember. Him and his date was back at her apartment and they were… getting down to business when he moaned your name. He couldn't get you out of his head. His date even looked like you; even if she wasn't you. She had your hair color, eye color, body build, but she wasn't you.

You, on the other hand, couldn't stop thinking about Joe either, but you were scared. Even though it's been three months, you feel like you’ll be getting over Jake your whole life. Your relationship with him was horrible, no doubt, but you loved him. Every time you’re with Joe, however, he makes that feeling go away. He heals that part of you without even meaning to. He makes your entire world go quiet.

It scares you how he makes you feel, it scares you for how fast you fell for him, it scares you that he doesn't even try to make you feel this way. You’ve always said that if you fall fast, then it can’t last. “Maybe I should give it a try,” you thought, looking at Joe’s smile as he watched the show.

One week later - Christmas Day in Athens, OH

“What are we doing here?” you asked, taking in the playground in front of you. The playground where you and Joe used to play as kids.

“Just… taking a trip down memory lane,” Joe smiled, guiding you to the swings by the small of your back.

After a long day in Joe’s childhood home with both sets of your parents, Joe insisted that he would take you somewhere before going home. “Here, let me push you,” Joe smiled. Endless giggles fell from your lips as you swung in the air.

“Okay, okay, stop,” you giggled after a minute. Joe grabbed your waist, slowing down the swing before stepping in front of you. “You’re so beautiful,” Joe smiled, looking down at you. The December moonlight casted on you, highlighting all of your features.

“Joe,” you spoke softly as you stood up and cupped his cold cheeks. “I love you. I love you so much, Joe. The way you treat me, the way you’re always there for me, the way you care for me. It used to scare me, but I realized you're it for me. And I’m sorry if I just made anything weird but I just had to tell you-”

Joe cut you off by smashing his lips against yours. The kiss was sweet, but also full of passion. It said so many words with just one action. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to say that to me. God, I love you so much, Y/n. That’s why I brought you here, I wanted to talk about us. Because I’m yours, Y/n. I’ve been yours since that night in the bar. I bought you this, by the way.”

Joe’s hand went into his pocket and dug out a black, rectangular box. He opened it to reveal a necklace, the necklace. You were the girl.

Flashback to the other day

“Okay, we’ve gotten everything for your parents, my parents, and each of our siblings,” Joe said, reading the list, “I’ve just gotta get this one thing.”

You and Joe were in the mall together, trying to go some last minute Christmas shopping. “What thing?” you asked.

“I wanna impress this girl, and I figured you would know what she would like,” Joe smiled, leading you into the jewelry store. Your heart dropped at Joe’s words, but why? You weren't his. You told him to live his life. 

End of flashback

You helped him pick out the necklace exactly how you would like it, without knowing it was for you. The only difference now was your initial on the necklace.

“You don’t need to impress me,” you smiled, as he put the silver necklace on you. “You do that enough by just existing.”

“I love you, you’re seriously the sweetest girl I’ve met in my life. You’re selfless, beautiful, incredibly sexy, compassionate, and caring. And that’s just a tiny percent of why I love you,” Joe beamed.

“I love you so much,” you smiled. “You are so hardworking, handsome, caring, a little bit of a dork… but you’re my dork.”

“I love you a million,” Joe grinned, pressing sweet kisses all over your face.

“I love you a billion,” you giggled.

“Let’s go home and get into some trouble, baby,” Joe teased, leading you back to the car.

“Okayyyy,” you laughed, but stopped dead in your tracks, “Wait. Does this make me your girlfriend?”

“Sure does, sweetheart,” Joe smiled

“Oh my god, you’re my boyfriend,” you gasped, “I wouldn't want it any other way though.”

“Me either,” Joe kissed you once again before opening the door for you and driving home.

For the first time, the two of you would be going home as a couple. You took a leap of faith to not let your anxiety control your relationship, and you’ve never been happier that you did.

You thought the plane was going down, but Joe somehow turned it all around.

[pitviperofdoom]

High School Time Travelers, Part 2

It's finally here! Follow up to this story.

***

“So. Spill. What the fuck is going on with you and Angelique?”

Raph fidgeted uncomfortably, and something within Erin roared out in protest at that. They were in her room, surrounded by her clutter and band posters and the stuff he kept at her house to keep his mom from throwing it away. He wasn’t supposed to be uncomfortable here.

Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I time-traveled last night.”

“I’m serious—”

“So am I,” he said wearily. “I woke up in a house I haven’t set foot in for years, across the hall from someone I promised myself I’d never talk to again. It happened, and if you’re stuck on that part then this conversation can’t continue.”

Erin got up and paced her room, kicking aside her backpack, nearly knocking over the guitar stand in the corner. “What the fuck.”

“That’s what I said.”

“What the fuck, Raph.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

The absurdity hit her instantly—he didn’t mean to time travel, as if they were talking about him forgetting his homework or getting in Monica Dillon’s way during passing period. She wanted to laugh.

But then she remembered some of the weird things Angelique had said—about friendships imploding, about college, about shit not mattering in high school, all with the easy certainty of experience.

“Prove it,” she said. “Can you do that thing where you predict what I’m about to say?”

“I’m not stuck in a time loop, dumbass, yesterday I was thirty-three!” Raph snapped. “I had to go through math class trying to pretend I still remembered my teacher’s name!”

“Okay, okay, Jesus.” Erin held up her hands placatingly. “There’s gotta be something.”

Raph sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I dunno. Anything meaningful and unchangeable I can remember won’t happen for a while, so if you’re willing to wait for the Trump presidency or the global pandemic, there’s that.”

“The what.”

“Wait, who’s president right now? It’s still Bush, right?”

Erin pulled a face.

“Next one’s Barack Obama, he’s gonna do two terms,” Raph informed her. “First black president.”

“Oh, huh. Cool,” Erin said faintly.

“Let’s see, what else, um… Balloon Boy? Has Balloon Boy happened yet?”

“No, what the fuck is Balloon Boy?”

Raph brightened. “Yeah, so at some point this family is gonna release like, a homemade weather balloon? Or something? And there’s gonna be this huge panic because they think their son is stuck inside it, but then it turns out he was fine and hiding in the basement the whole time and it was a hoax.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye out for that I guess?” Erin sat down again. “You’re seriously not fucking with me right now?”

“I mean, if you want, we could forget this conversation ever happened,” Raph offered. “Continue with our normal lives, while I keep under-reacting to devastating world events.”

“Christ, I don’t know.” Erin pressed her palms into her eyes. After a moment, she lifted her head again. “Wait a minute, we’re getting off track. What does this have to do with Angelique?”

Raph’s silence could not have been louder.

“Raph,” Erin said, a little desperately.

“First you have to promise you won’t be mad,” said Raph.

“Did you sleep with her in the—” Erin paused to do some arithmetic in her head. “—eighteen years between then and now?!”

“She’s my wife,” Raph blurted out.

Moments later, Erin’s mother knocked politely on the bedroom door. “Everything okay in there?” she asked. “That’s an awful lot of screaming for a Tuesday night.”

Erin continued howling into her pillow. “She’s fine, Mrs. Yokota!” Raph called. “We’re looking at—uh—creepypastas!”

“Creepy what?”

“Uh—crap, are they still called that?—like, ghost stories and stuff!”

Placated, she left them to it. Eventually Erin recovered enough to lie back and stare listlessly at the ceiling.

“Dude.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“What the fuck is your life?” Erin demanded. “How did that even happen?”

“We ran into each other at—so my friend Hazel got roped into being in their college roommate’s bridal party and dragged me along for moral support, and Angelique was in the same friend group but with like six degrees of separation from us,” Raph explained. “It took half the reception for her to recognize me because at that point I’d been on T for a few years, but the second she realized we went to the same high school she turned fishbelly-white, pulled me aside, and apologized for how much of a bitch she was back then. It was really awkward.”

Back then, he called it, even though for Erin it was still right now. “And you married her?”

“Like eight years later, yeah.” Raph ran his hand through his hair, not quite hiding the small smile that stole over his face. “She really turned over a new leaf.”

Erin was silent for a while, mulling over this new information, combining it with what she already had from that afternoon.

“Is your name still Raphael?” she asked. “She sounded really surprised about it. And I know you said you were just taking the name on a trial run, but you really seemed to like it. Not that there’s—you know,” she added. “I know that—just because I picked it, I knew you might not… you know. It’s fine, I was just wondering. If I should call you something else.”

“I did—I do like it,” Raph assured her. “But, uh, some stuff happened. My dad found me.”

Erin’s eyebrows shot upward. “Wait, really? What’d he have to say for himself?”

“That Mom ghosted him when she got pregnant because her side guy had more money.”

“Dude, fuck your mom.”

“Don’t fuck my mom, she’ll ghost you for money, weren’t you listening?”

Erin burst out snickering. “Fuck, sorry, this isn’t funny.”

“It will be in eighteen years,” Raph said with a wry smile. “Hindsight. Anyway, he found me in—he’s gonna find me in two years unless I reach out first. He’s a good guy. My stepmom’s pretty cool, too. And I have sisters? So that’s awesome. And yeah, he had this friend who passed away when he was younger, and he always wanted to name his son after him, but then Mom disappeared and he only ended up having daughters, so when he found me, it kind of worked out.” He hesitated. “I’m Damian. Damian Raphael Harker.”

“That’s such a cool name,” Erin sighed.

Raph—Damian—tilted his head back to grin at her. “Yours is cool, too.”

“Shut up,” she said fondly.

“No, seriously,” he said emphatically. “Your name is unspeakably cool.”

There was something odd in his tone, sticking up and catching like a loose nail. It bothered her, the same way something Angelique said earlier had bothered her.

“Hey, Ra—Damian?” Erin said cautiously. “Earlier, when Angelique sat down with us, she didn’t recognize me.”

“She does, don’t worry.”

“No, she didn’t,” Erin pressed. “It took her a second to realize who I was, and she stopped herself from saying why.”

Suddenly Damian looked deeply uncomfortable. “I, uh.”

She took a deep breath. “Was I dead in your time?”

“Wh-no! No no no no, of course not!” Damian looked horrified. “We played Pathfinder like last week, you’re not dead.”

“What’s Path—no, never mind. Something’s clearly up. If we just played whatever-that-is last week, and Angelique is your wife, then why didn’t she know who I was?”

“Uh…” Damian’s hands had worked their way deep into his sleeves. “You look different, that’s all. You kind of reinvented yourself in college.”

“Oh,” Erin said, momentarily relieved. Then— “Wait.”

“What?’

“Damian. You’d—” She hesitated. “If I was a guy, you’d tell me, right?’

“Oh my God,” Damian mumbled into his be-sweatered hands.

“Damian.”

“You’re... not...”

“You’d tell me, right?”

“See, I don’t know if I would!” Damian answered, in a strained high-pitched tone. “That’s—look. If you were a guy, that’s something you’d have to work out for yourself!”

“Damian, I swear to God.”

“I can’t crack your egg for you, that’s like violating the Prime Directive!”

Erin seized a pillow and started to buffet him with it. “You are such a nerd!”

“It’s your personal journey, you can’t use me to cheat!” Damian cackled, fending her off with a plush horse.

***

“Yeah I’ll get the banana split.” Angie bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes raking over the array of toppings. “Can you put caramel and chocolate sauce on it? And Heath bar pieces, chopped strawberries, and M&Ms.”

“Yeah, sure thing.”

It took all of her self-control not to press her nose against the glass as she watched them make it. Some small part of her balked at the sight of three huge scoops of ice cream and all the toppings, but she quieted it. She had a second shot at being a teenager, and that meant never taking her garbage disposal stomach and body made of rubber bands for granted ever again.

She hummed absently to herself, only to pause halfway through the tune. How did it go again? She tried repeating the first half, only to get stuck at the same spot. Oh, this was going to bug the crap out of her. It wasn’t like she could look it up, not when the song wouldn’t come out for almost ten years—

Her phone vibrated in her purse, and she checked it absentmindedly, zeroing in for a moment on the DAD displayed on the screen. After a moment, she put it back without answering. If it was that important, he could text.

Sure enough, her phone gave a short buzz. New text message—he hadn’t even bothered to leave a voicemail.

DADI need you to talk to your brother.

Angie checked her banana split’s progress with a glance, and replied.

lol why

DADHe’s not listening to me. We both know the courts favor the mother so if we’re going to beat her I need both of you on your A game.

Angie ground her teeth until her jaw creaked.

what do you need me to do

DADJust coach him on how to talk about her. You’re a smart lady, I know you can do it. He’s always getting scuffed up at practice, just have him say the bruises came from her. Throw in a drinking problem if you have to, just keep your stories straight.

why father dearest i’m surprised at youyou want me to lie under oath?

DADJust talk to him, will you? Keep your stories straight, don’t get too outlandish, and we’ll get out of this with everything we want. You’ll never have to hear the word no again, I promise.

ok daddy ill do my best!

DADGood girl. You’re the smartest girl I know. Smarter than your mom, smarter than her bitch lawyer. Love you!

“Order up!”

Angie brought her banana split to the table with the clearest view of the door. It took her a moment to decide how to begin, then nearly a full minute balancing equal parts ice cream, banana, and toppings in a single spoonful. She managed it in the end.

Mood lifted, she unlocked her phone again and made a call. “Heeeey, Anika.”

“Need I remind you that phone calls are billable,” her mother’s lawyer said dryly.

“Yeah, I’ll be quick, I have some incriminating text messages I think you’ll be interested in?”

The sound of rustling papers paused. “Go on…?”

“Dad just told me to lie to the judge,” Angie explained, twirling a thin ribbon of caramel around her spoon. “And to coach Eric to lie to the judge. I took screenshots.”

Anika cursed softly under her breath. “Thank you for telling me. Send them to your mom, okay? Thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The bell above the ice cream parlor door jingled, and Angie perked up as both Damian (Raph?) and Erin walked in. She waved them over, grinning when both pairs of eyes widened at her treat.

“That thing’s half the size of your head,” Erin pointed out.

“Sure is, you guys came just in time.” Angie nudged it across the table, along with the two extra spoons. “If we split it, I’ll have enough room for a milkshake chaser.”

“You’re a monster,” Damian said delightedly. “Oh shit, are those Heath bars?” He dug in without waiting for an answer.

“They’re peanut butter cups,” she said solemnly, once he’d taken a bite and could probably tell they weren’t. “I added them just to hurt you.” Damian rolled his eyes and dug his spoon back in.

Erin stared at her, probably still baffled by the gentle banter, but at least she looked more curious than infuriated, like instead of being suspicious she simply didn’t know what to make of Angie.

“So, you guys talked?” Angie asked carefully. “Are we… all good?”

“I think so,” Damian replied, shooting a cautious glance at Erin.

“You’re on thin ice,” Erin informed her as she helped herself to the chocolate scoop.

“Fair.” Angie didn’t remember Erin putting up quite as much of a fight, but then, it had been years when they’d reconnected before. This time around, it was still fresh.

“The ice cream helps,” Erin added, slightly muffled by the spoon in her mouth.

“Noted.” Angie paused, weighed her options, and shrugged. No harm no foul, probably. “Hey, you’re a musician, right?”

Erin swallowed. “Yeah, why?”

“And not just a performer, but you write music too, right?”

“Yeeaaah?” Erin squinted suspiciously. Beside her, Damian shot Angie a warning glare.

“If I give you half a tune, could you resolve it?”

Erin was staring at her like she’d grown a second head. “Probably.”

“Great!” Angie hummed the earworm from earlier. “How would the next part go?”

Erin repeated it to herself, nodding along. After a moment, she said, “Probably like—”

And sure enough, there it was. The rest of the chorus’s tune came rushing back to Angie’s memory, and she breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Thanks! That was driving me nuts.” Angie returned to her banana split, ignoring Damian’s growing scowl.

Later, when Erin was in the bathroom and  Angelique was standing in line to order her promised milkshake, Damian dug his elbow into her side. “You’re not as slick as you think you are,” he muttered.

“What?” Angie said innocently. “I didn’t give anything away.”

“You just taught her half the chorus of a song she’s eight years away from writing!”

“I’ve planted a seed,” Angie insisted. “I’ve created a stable time loop.”

“That is not what you did and you know it.” Damian pursed his lips, clearly trying to stay annoyed with her. “I barely avoided spoiling her transition, and that’s after she asked me to my face.”

Angie grinned. “So you haven’t told her she’s a genderfluid punk rocker yet?”

“No. Because she’s not a genderfluid punk rocker yet.”

“And now, when she becomes one,” Angie said with a smile, “she’s going to look back on this day and laugh.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mad Season 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, social anxiety, chronic illness, 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.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Peter Parker

Summary: a class project gets messy. (short!reader)

Note: happy weekend.

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 ❤️

“Hey, how’d you get in?” Peter rushes in, a tray of drinks in hand. 

You pop up on the stool, broken from your trance. Uncertain what else to do, you spent much of your time trying to distract yourself with his schematics. You twist to face him. 

“Um, Bucky,” you answer and cringe at home dumb you sound. “He helped.” 

“Bucky? Helpful?” He nears and puts the cardboard tray on the table, “I guess he can be.” He picks at the edge of the tray, “I got you a blueberry matcha. The place I hit didn’t have strawberry in season anymore.” 

“Oh, sounds... interesting, but you--” 

“Didn’t have to. I know, you always say so but I felt bad for being so late. I told may to get an airtag for her wallet. She can be so--” he stops himself and chuckles. “It’s whatever. She’s got a lot going on.” 

“Mhm,” you accept the cup he offers. “I was just looking over the plans. I think we could probably just go with yours. Makes more sense.” 

“What? Oh, no way,” he takes his iced whatever. It just looks like layers of sugar and cream. “I think we could easily bring together both. Take some of your features and mine. I don’t want to take over.” 

“Yeah, but...” 

“But nothing. Really. It’s a team project, not my project,” he insists as he hops up on the stool next to you, “so,” he swipes his hand in the air and a holographic screen appears. You flinch. “Let’s compare and redraw.” 

You gape as another floating rectangle appears before him. No wonder his look so much better than your Paint hack job. You want to sink down and disappear. You always figured you’re not interesting enough to be his friend but now you’re certain you might be too stupid and poor for him too. 

“So, I’m going to get logged in...” he mutters. 

“Um, Peter?” You murmur, “are you sure you wanna be my partner?” 

“Why... wouldn’t I?” He hovers his hand before the screen as he looks at you. 

“I dunno. I don’t... I don’t have much to offer. Not a lab, not all these cool computers...” 

“Oh this? No, it’s not—it's not a big deal. Dude, I'm so lucky Mr. Stark is letting me use this. I’m not ignorant, you know? I just thought it would be easier. I don’t think your roommates like me much and mine are so loud.” he explains as he lowers his arm, crossing both over the table as he leans on it. “Do you not want to be my partner?” 

“Nnnooo,” you drag the word out. “No, I do, but I want to contribute to and I don’t know how to use any of this.” 

“That’s cool. I’ll show you.” 

“Um, okay,” you nibble your lip sheepishly. “I guess...” 

“Did you try the tea? Is it good?” He changes the subject. He does that a lot. Pivots around before you can finish your thoughts. 

“Not yet,” you look down at the bright pink lid, “where did you get this?” 

“Some place called Berry? I don’t know. Everything was bright. You’d hate it,” he laughs again. “Oh,” he snaps his fingers as you blow into the lid cautiously. “Before I forget, I’m having a party. I know it’s not really your thing but it’s ‘my turn’,” he makes quotations with his fingers, “and I don’t really wanna but I also thought I'd invite you in case you wanted to not be there with me, too.” 

Your blink in surprise, “a party?” 

“I know, too much. Well, I didn’t wanna leave you out.” 

“Mmm,” you drone nervously. It is really nice of him to think of you and after everything else, you hate to say no. “No one ever invited me to a party.” 

“No?” His brow furrows, “really?” 

You shake your head, “I’ll come. Yeah. I’ll try. You know, it’s college and ...” you take a sip and clear your throat, “should I bring a dessert?” 

He laughs and gives you a playful grudge, “wow, I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone ask me that except my aunt’s friends. Nope, you can just come as you are. You can always bring some drinks for yourself but I’ll have more than enough to share.” 

“Oh, okay,” you nod. 

“The tea good?” He asks again. 

“Yeah, sweet,” you put the cup down. 

“Awesome!” He grins. “I really didn’t think you’d come. I’m so excited.” 

“Really?” You ask. 

“Well, duh. You’re so fucking cool. Like all my other friends, they try so hard. It’s all ‘let’s go do shots’ or ‘watch me do this dumb shit’. You don’t even try, you’re just you. It’s like people don’t realize they can just be nice and be cool for just that.” 

“I... yeah,” you don’t know what to say.  

It’s like he’s calling you boring but not. You know you are and you don’t mind but you can’t ever remember when you just felt like everyone else. Where you weren’t the odd one out. Despite trying to include you, Peter still manages to push you to the edges. 

You wince as you notice how he stares at you. You fidget and pick at the button on the front of your corduroy skirt. His eyes flick down to the nervous movement. 

“I like that,” he reaches to touch the ridged fabric, “blue. Oh, thick.” 

Your leg twitches in surprise, “uh, yeah... found it at the student thrift shop.” 

“Really?” His fingers brush over the hem and touch your coloured tights. They linger for a moment before he pulls away. “Cute. I’ve never been there.” 

“It’s not bad...” you cross your legs as you knee tingles from his touch. That was strange. 

“Well, anyway,” he waggles his fingers as he turns back to the table, “uh, where was I?” He squints at the screens and taps in the air. He pauses and looks at you. “Here, I’ll show you how it work, alright?”  

He reaches over again and you brace yourself. He grabs the underside of the stool seat and drags you closer. He it so easily, you gasp. He’s a lot stronger than he looks. He slides his hand around so his arm is diagonal around your back. 

“Right, so...” his shoulder presses to you as he points with his other arm, “you can just use your finger. I’ll have to add your prints to the program. Put your hands up.” 

You obey as he stays close. You’re overly away of it. The way he’s pressed to you. He doesn’t seem to notice at all. You try not to think of it and focus on his instructions. The project. That’s why you’re here. 

[yandere-yearnings]

*zombie noise* uuurghhhh.. Titties.. Man titties.. My sickness can only be cured if I am able to suck on some man titties 🧟‍♀️

AUUUGgGgGg My aching hands can only be remedied with a dose of squeezing chesticles various times a day 💀💀

nonnie the way i got war flashbacks reading the word chesticles😭💔 i believe this was in reference to this ask so today it's sun's turn to be reduced to an absolute mess🥰 i'm sorry this took so long to get to btw and also that the writing is largely shit, dar has not been vv good at this lately😔

NSFW under the cut!

“You’re being forward,” Sun laughed, bright-eyed, “hard day?”

“Very.” You stressed, leaning into him, finding solace in the softness of his shirt. His calves brushed against your lower back, drawing you between his thighs.

Sun's hands flicked up, fingers pressing to your scalp and massaging gently. Tenderly, to the shell of your ear, he hummed, “anything I can do to make it better?” 

Blinking at his innocent question, you couldn’t help but grin. Your arms stretched to either side of him, caging him all the more across the counter he was sitting on. “I can think of a few,” you whispered, revelling in the little exhale you received in response, “namely…”

“Y/N.”

“These.” You groped his chest with a happy tilt to your head. “They’re there for a reason, right?”

Sun groaned, curling into you to hide his obvious blush. “Not for you to… play with…”

“Why not?” you teased, feeling your neck heat from where he rested against it. “You didn’t have a problem with it last night. You begged me to touch them more actually, don't you remember? Crying so prettily, saying-”

“That’s enough!” He covered your mouth, pushing you slightly with a shaky grip on your shoulder. Red-faced and refusing to meet your gaze, Sun was the perfect picture of adorable. “If it’ll make you feel better, you know-” he paused, getting quieter, “you know I’m yours so… do whatever. Please, just stop embarrassing me.”

“Me? Embarrassing you?” You gasped, ever playful and swooping in to nip his cheek. “I would never.”

“Y/N,” Sun said again, this time whining, “you’re literally doing it right now!” He swatted at you lightly, but your energy was not lost on him, not in the giggle that preceded your pinning him down.

“Well, hello there,” you mumbled, attention completely focused on the expanse of skin exposed to you now that his top had ridden up.

Sun kicked you, half-hearted. “Don’t talk to it.”

“Sorry.” The both of you knew you weren’t sorry at all. Your thumb had already found its home, kissing into the flesh layered above his sternum, tracing the shadows cast.

Sun arched into it, and suddenly, every move you made became weighted.

Muscle beneath fat, driving your digits in until there was no more give, clawing, kneading, feeling his pulse soar — kisses trapped within his ribs that you knew his heart desperately wanted to send your way. How could you call yourself his lover if you didn’t reciprocate?

Saliva dripped, and your tongue followed, laving into cushioned tissue. You could get addicted to the taste of him, to the gasp and coil that brought you even closer. “Does it feel good, baby?” you mouthed around his nipple, relishing in his shiver.

“Good, so good,” Sun whined, breathless, writhing. “Don’t stop.”

“Who’s being forward now?” your teeth sank in, nothing akin to a light bite. “You can’t be giving me mixed signals like this Sun, you were so shy earlier…”

“Sorry,” he cried, “I’m sorry. I’ll be good for you. Please.”

Tears on his lashline when you pulled away. Your palms squeezed his pecs, let the pressure run down his entire body when they trailed to grasp his hips. Sun bit his lips to muffle his sounds, and you undid them with your own. “Tell me then,” you coaxed, “what do you want?”

“Bed.”

“Okay.” You caressed his face, and his turning to nuzzle into it was all you needed to forget about the stress you’d been feeling prior. "Bed," you repeated. "Bed sounds good.”

[ilovescarymen]

talk to me: Spencer Reid

You’d never been one for vulnerability. It probably had something to do with how you grew up, an emotionally unavailable mother and a mentally absent father- you were always berated when you cried or showed you were upset so as you got older , you stopped.

You had a boyfriend who made you think you could be soft and vulnerable infront of him but, he ended up using it against you in an argument, after that you swore to never be vulnerable again.

You became a blank canvas that was impossible to read, a smile always plastered on your face, a fake bubbly personality to cover the pain beneath the surface. You’d only cry in the comfort of a bathroom or your home and then smile around others. It always worked. No one ever questioned it, untill now.

Your boyfriend, Spencer Reid is a profiler for the fbi’s behavioral analysis unit. He study’s human behavior for a living, which means he sees right through your little facade.

He never addressed it because he thought that maybe vulnerability would come with time. Maybe you’d stop crying in the bathroom or the shower and instead cry in his arms.

But when he arrives home from a case and you’re not at the door , bouncing around and ecstatic to see him he knows something’s up, he peeks around the corner to your bedroom and sees his sweet girl, crying and hiccuping.

You notice him and quickly wipe your tears , perking up, your stand up off the bed and run to your boyfriend’s arms.

“Hi Spence! Sorry I’m running a bit late on dinner! I’ll go get it started!” You quickly spew out, as you make an attempt to walk away your pulled back by your boyfriend, he gently places his hands on the side of your face and scans your face, before making eye contact with you.

“Honey, slow down, what’s wrong?” He asks genuine concern in his voice

“Nothing! Why would something be wrong Spence?” You put a smile on your face and look up at your boyfriend, his eyebrows are furrowed together and a frown is all over his face.

“Sweetheart, you do know that I study human behavior every day right? I know you’re lying to me, please just talk to me baby. I love you and I care and I want you to feel better”

You shake your head “nothings wrong I’m okay” you release yourself from his grasp and slip past him to the kitchen, you open the fridge and scan it “I have pasta sauce! I can make you-“ you let out a squeak as Spencer picks you up and carries you over to the couch, he sits you in his lap facing him and holds you in place.

“I have let you do this long enough. I let you isolate yourself and pretend you’re okay when you’re not but no more. I want you to come to me, I want to cheer you up honey, I will never judge you, you know that right? I’ll never make you feel stupid for feeling your feelings. I love you I want you to talk to me”

Your lip starts to tremble and tears start falling down your face “she’s- she’s so mean Spence” you hiccup, he pulls you to his chest and hugs you, his arms wrapping around your waist

“Who is? Honey who’s mean?”

“My mother” you sob out, Spencer doesn’t know the horrors of your childhood. All he knows is you grew up in Texas and you left because you wanted a change in scenery, what he doesn’t know is that you actually left for your own safety. Your mother had lost it and you left to avoid another one of her beatings.

“Oh honey” he coos, he kisses the side of your head and rubs your back gently, whispering little “it’s okay”’s and “let it all out”’s in your ear. When your crying calmed down you sat up, looking Spencer in his eyes.

“M’ sorry, I know you got home from a case and this is probably the last thing you wanted to deal with” you breath out as you wipe your eyes

“Hey hey, Nuh uh. Don’t ever apologize for feeling your feelings, I’m more than happy to do this. To be here for you always. I love you, sweetheart “

“I love you too Spence “

“Now, tell me why we hate your mother”

And you did, you told him everything, and when tears fell Spence gently caressed your back and listened intently, showing you that it was okay.

This is what love is.

[naturesapphic]

idk if you’d wanna do this or not but could you potentially write something fluffy with Billie and a gf who feels dumb all the time because she’s dyslexic and billie helps her and comforts her when she struggles?

Dyslexic

Billie eilish x dyslexic!fem!reader

Warnings: little bit of angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

Everyone who was in your life knew you were dyslexic. You had it growing up and you still have trouble with it today. You would get teased for it a lot when you were little and now since you were an adult. You never understood why people were so mean about it, it was just a learning disorder, but the people always made you feel extra dumb for it.

Here you were, sitting at your desk in the office of your shared house with your girlfriend, working on a class project. You were done writing your portion of the paper and sent it to the group chat. Billie was downstairs in the studio working on music. Almost immediately everyone responded, criticizing your work and how you wrote making your face heat up in embarrassment. One person even said that you were going to make them all fail if you don’t rewrite the whole paper.

You were confused but texted them back that you would look over it again. Going back to your paper you reread everything and you understood what they were talking about. What you wrote was jumbled and didn’t make sense at all. It didn’t fit what the whole project was about and you groaned out in frustration. You grabbed your paper and crumpled it up, throwing it behind you not knowing that it hit someone.

“Hey! Watch the tits bro.” Your girlfriend joked which usually made you laugh but all you let out was a little defeated sigh. “Sorry…” you apologized and you felt your chair spin around and you were face to face with your brown headed girlfriend. “Hey…you don’t need to apologize to me babe.” Billie reassured you and you just sat there staring off making Billie worry. “Okay what’s going on. You’ve been up here all day in the office and you look like you are about to pass out.” She said and you whimpered making her get down on her knees so she’s eye level with you.

“I just…I feel so stupid bils! My stupid brain and my learning disability.” You explained to her and how your partners were making you feel like shit. “Hey hey now. First of all, you aren’t stupid, second of all, they are shit heads who don’t know what they are talking about. Fuck them. You are the smartest and talented girl I know. Don’t let their peanut sized Brains make you think any differently do you understand?” Billie says and you nodded your head slowly. “I still have to write this stupid paper and on top of that I have to start completely over since I messed up.” You sigh and Billie gave you a comforting smile.

“Why don’t I read your project over and help you with your paper hm?” She suggested and you gave her a big smile. “Would you please? I don’t get it whatsoever and I feel like my head is gonna explode.” You explained and she giggles. “I know baby but how about I read it over and rewrite it to where you can understand it better how’s that?” She offered and you felt your eyes burn with tears. “Oh bils…you are the sweetest ever. What did I do to deserve you?” You say as you stand up from your chair and place a kiss on her plump lips, making her kiss you back immediately.

“Okay. Now go to bed and rest. I’ll be there to join you in a bit alright?” She softly demanded you and you nodded. You walked over to the bed and got underneath the covers as you watched Billie read over the project and write down some stuff before joining you. You couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend than Billie, who never made you feel stupid or slow. She loved you as you are.

A/n: thank you for the request anon! As someone who has a learning disability this was very nice to write. Anyone who has some sort of learning disability, know that no matter what anyone says to you, you are smart and capable just like everyone else and I’m proud of you :) remember to stay hydrated and to rest! I love y’all! <3

[lexirosewrites]

Some Slick Sunday thoughts for you! More R-rated than I’ve ever submitted before, but I think it’s probably more like M.

Thinking about omega!Steve and alpha!Eddie who are Best Buds. Completely platonic, honest.

Okay, so maybe Steve has a tiny crush on Eddie, but really, he has eyes, okay, and it’s not his fault Eddie looks like that. (“Like what?” Is Robin’s reaction. “A drowned rat?”)

So they’re best friends, living together in a comfortable 2-bedroom apartment. They warn each other when they’re going in to heat or rut a few days in advance, and the other packs an overnight bag and camps out on Robin and Vickie’s couch for a few days, until they get the all-clear call.

Except this time, Steve’s heat comes early. He’d been sick the past week and Eddie had been so nice about taking care of him.

that does, however, mean Steve’s room has quite a bit of Eddie’s smell in it. A couple of hoodies, because Eddie tugs one on the second he gets inside and pulls it off whenever he gets hot, tossing it somewhere in the room he’s in, but never back into his closet. A pillow, because Steve only had the one (“Jesus, Stevie, Spartan much?”) and Eddie had a veritable mountain.

So Steve wakes up already deep in the clutches of his heat, whining like a bitch and humping his pillow.

Except- it’s not his pillow.

It’s Eddie’s.

Something about that realization pushes Steve over the edge, gasping and moaning and shaking, and he comes all over Eddie’s pillow.

After his legs are no longer rubber, he finds the phone and calls Eddie. “Eddie?”

“Stevie!” Eddie says happily. “Hey, how’re you doing? Feeling okay? I was thinking about stopping by that place on 4th, y’know, with the soups and sandwiches? How’s that rice soup sound tonight?”

“Eddie,” he says again. It sounds more like a whine. “Y’can’t- y’can’t come home, Eds, I started my heat.”

That realization, along with Eddie’s offer of soup, combines and it makes Steve want, so immediately, that he starts crying.

“Oh, Stevie,” Eddie murmurs. “Hey… hey, you’re okay, you’re fine.”

“Eddie,” Steve murmurs. “Eddie, Alpha. Need you.”

“Shit,” Eddie breathes out. “Okay, Stevie, okay, I’m gonna grab some stuff on my way home, I’ll be right there, okay?”

“B-but- but you can’t-”

“I won’t do anything you wouldn’t want outside of your heat,” Eddie promises him. “But I don’t feel right about leaving you alone right now, ba- Stevie.”

They end the call, Eddie rushing home, and Steve making his way back upstairs, figuring Eddie’s pillow was already well and truly a goner, so why not continue?

And Eddie… well.

He didn’t expect to get knocked into a sympathetic rut after just twenty minutes of being home.

yeah, steve hump his pillow! claim eddie as yours!😈

[blackdragoness]

👀 Who got a reading on you and what was said?👀

PICK A CARD READING

You ever been able to feel when someone’s trying to penetrate your energetic space? I’ve been feeling it a lot lately and have had a strong feeling someone’s been getting readings on me. So I figured we investigate the perpetrator and see what was revealed. If you’ve had this same feeling before, pick a pile and I’ll reveal to you who and what the tarot reader told them.

Pile 1 😎🩸😄🥹

Pile 2 😰😕👍😫

Pile 3 ✍🏽😐🥱😮

—————————————

Pile 1: 😎🩸😄🥹

3 of Pentacles, 4 of Wands, 10 of pentacles

WHO?

This is someone you were cool with in the past but for some reason, you two have been in no contact with each other for a while.

This is someone you may have considered family at one point or maybe you guys are actually family. The energy feels familiar and safe.

Long distance or it’s been a long time since you’ve actually seen/spoken to this person however I feel a lot of love between the two of you.

WHY?

This person misses you so much. I don’t feel like there’s any bad blood here. It feels nice and wholesome. Similar to that of two childhood friends who got swept away by their own personal lives and lost touch with each other.

This person got a reading on you because even though lots of time has passed and you are both on your own paths in life, you haven’t left this persons mind. I’m hearing “an unforgettable presence”. IRREPLACEABLE.

This person got a reading on you because he/she wanted to know if you were actually fulfilling all the goals and plans you guys talked about as kids.

This person wants the best for you and you symbolize hope for this person. They’ve been watching you from afar and yearn for the closeness you guys once had in passing times.

This person got a reading on you as a “check in” to make sure you are okay.

WHAT was revealed?

The tarot reader revealed that you’ve been enjoying a lot of positive karma in your life.

The tarot reader revealed that you’ve been focused on your goals. though it’s been a rough journey in the pursuit of your dreams, you’ve been overcoming so many hardships and battles like a champ.

The tarot reader revealed that you still have lots of love for this person and know in due time, you guys will be reunited again.

The tarot reader revealed that you recently hit a milestone in your life and are being blessed beyond measures right now.

The tarot reader revealed that you are enjoying a lot of light hearted activities. That you might be surrounded by loved ones and family members that bring you lots of peace, joy and happiness.

Lots of positive energy and messages that were relayed to the person who got a reading on you. I’m sensing that all this information brought peace and light to this person knowing that you are still true to yourself. Awww, this person totally loves and admires you. Don’t be afraid to send them a message and reconnect with this old friend. They tear up thinking about the memories you two shared. I feel that the message they received was short and sweet and straight to the point and then they went about their merry way.

Channeled Song: Made For Me by Muni Long

—————————————

Pile 2: 😰😕👍😫

8 of Cups, 10 of Wands, 6 of swords

WHO?

This person feels like someone who caused you a lot of grief and uncertainty. This is someone you walked away from and who you had to set solid boundaries with.

This feels like a no contact relationship but I’m feeling that it was you who initiated this separation.

This person feels grimey and dirty - this could be both spiritually, mentally and physically. Just a nasty person overall.

This person’s energy feels like they are beneath you 🤣 I know that sounds harsh but they are very low vibrational right now compared to your energy.

WHY?

This person got a tarot reading on you because they’re a little bitter. This is what the scenario sounds like: When the player finally gets played and becomes obsessed with the one who got away.

It’s like they didn’t think you were ever going to walk away but when you finally did it shocked them so much. For some reason they thought they had you under some kind of spell?

They got a tarot reading on you because they don’t want to believe that you are actually happy without them 🙄

They were hoping to uncover some nasty truths about you through this reading

WHAT was revealed?

The tarot reader revealed the truth of your happiness to them. That you’ve finally been able to feel whole again ever since walking away from them. That you gained more from walking away in comparison to what you thought you lost when you walked away.

The tarot reader revealed that you have strong boundaries up with this person and that you see through all their deceptive tricks.

The tarot reader told them that you have moved on and have no intentions of ever reconnecting with them.

The tarot reader warned them to stay out of your life and energy field because your ancestors are protecting you from them.

The tarot reader kept it vague and turned their attention back to this person and offered them advice to begin their healing journey.

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹- I keep seeing this emoji in my head as I type this pile. The tarot reader told them that it took a while for you to heal your own heart from the damage they put you through but that somehow, you regained your heart and your strength back. The tarot reader also told this person a few things about themselves that awakened them to heal their own destructiveness.

Lots of things were said to this person that they were not ready to hear nor were they happy about hearing of your progress. “I want God to bless me the way he blesses you.” This person has so much growing up to do and is experiencing their karma. I’m seeing all of the grief they tried to inflict on you, is currently hitting them 10 fold. You are better off without this person. Keep going & stay the course youngin’.

Channeled Song: Feather by Sabrina Carpenter

—————————————

Pile 3: ✍🏽😐🥱😮

6 of cups, Two of Cups, 7 of cups

WHO?

This is someone who you know and are currently in contact with. I’m feeling like it’s a friendship for you, but the other person has developed a secret crush 🤣

The person who got a reading on you is your secret admirer 🤣 this is someone who is probably in your circle of friends and wishes to be something more with you.

This person knows you have many options and feels that you are out of their league and yet they can’t help but fall in love with you the more they interact with you.

Very nervous and anxious everytime you come around. They stutter on their words, talk really fast or become extremely shy in your presence.

That one friend who everyone describes as the life of the party but everytime you are in the room, this person is mute, bland and boring so you never seen this side that everyone talks about. They get this way around you only because of how nervous you make them feel

WHY?

They got a reading on you because they know they won’t be able to get over you and want to strategically plan on how to get you without you being aware of it 🤣

This person knows you have many offers and options, but still isn’t going to back down in the face of competition 🤣

This person wants to ask you out or send you a message confessing how they feel but keep overthinking it. So instead of just being brave and talking to you, they watch YouTube “How does she feel about me?” readings all day to hype up his confidence. Such a cheesy person, omg 🤣

This person doesn’t even care if you already got somebody in your life rn, they are waiting for their chance to pop back up and steal you away 🤣

WHAT was revealed?

Honestly, I don’t know how accurate this part is for you pile 3, so take it with a grain of salt. The thing is, this person has watched so many YouTube Tarot reading videos on you at this point with multiple different storylines that’s it’s confusing to know which one is actually YOUR energy 🤣 but the thing is, he’s going with the storyline that fits his own ego 🤣 so bear with me because this is what (S)HE THINKS you feel 🤣

I guess the storyline he went with is that you’re currently bored with the options you are entertaining currently. You’re not looking for anything serious at this moment and you’re only focused on your goals and manifesting them into reality.

If you have a boyfriend currently, he thinks you are bored and in a bland relationship and feels he can come and save you from it 🤣 he wants to show you what the time of your life really looks like and fantasizes about surprising you with an all paid for vacation. He has a lot of romantic fantasies for you and not all of them are sexual. Like this guy really loves you lol

You could very well be in the relationship of your dreams with the man you truly love but this guy thinks that there is no way you can be having fun because he thinks only he can show you the type of “fun” you’re looking for 🤣🤣 oh my goodness pile 3, this guy is bonkers for you 🤣 so bonkers he’s a little delusional lol

If you’re single, he thinks you’re bored being single and want a relationship and in his mind, no one is more perfect for you than him 🤣

As far as what the tarot reader has revealed about you, it just says you weren’t looking for anything serious with anybody and that includes him 🤣 but I feel like this person doesn’t want to believe that so he steady checking the YouTube readings until he hears what he wants to hear about you 🤣

Channeled Song: Crush by David Archuleta

[yuuuhiii]

yandere themes, knife usage, mdni

a/n: I need to stop watching Dexter (*´ー｀*)

He loved you so so much. His beautiful bestfriend. You were to good for people, definitely to good for this world. In his eyes, no one was ever perfect for your time.

Nobody deserved it.

Not even him.

But he’d tell himself he was an exception since he was your bestfriend.

You were always nice and gentle to everyone that had the luck of talking to you.

But he hated.

Really hated.

When some morons could think they could have even a chance to be with you. Couldn’t they see that was his spot?

He adored the way you’d reject them, he’d like for you to be more mean but you could never do no wrong. And for the people that could ever mistreat you.

He dealt with them himself.

In the dark of the night, letting you know he’d go get you both snacks and you nodded, a kiss to his warming cheek. He feels the remnants of your lips still on his skin, even when he’s on his way to someone’s house.

It was a guy, someone who thought he could touch what was his. He stops at the end of the street, the guy walking into view.

He knows his routine, where he lives, his name and the best part, how to get in. So before the guy can even make it to his house. He’s settling in, the lights are off and a shot of adrenaline shoots through him when he hears the door unlock.

The guy walks in, unbeknownst of his presence on the couch until he turns the light on. He gasps loudly, almost tripping over his kitchen chair. He turns around from his place on the couch.

“Remember me?” He grins, standing up.

“W-What—Get the fuck out of my house!” The guy yells.

He snickers. “I asked if you remembered me.” He walks over to him. He towers over the guy, a psychotic glint in his eyes it has the guy gulping.

“N-No.” He pouts, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s try to remember okay? You saw the most beautiful girl today? You had your hands all over her, making her uncomfortable right?”

The guy nods his head. “I-I didn’t know she had a boyfriend.” He laughs, squeezing the guys shoulder.

“It’s nothing like that. I’m just her bestfriend, I gotta protect her from guys like you.”

He forces the guy to sit down on his own chair. He walks over to the kitchen counter, grabbing a knife. The guy squeaks, shivering in his chair.

“She was really scared you know? It hurt me to see her like that. I never wanna see her scared. It also makes me upset because I feel like I’m not doing my job correctly. So that’s why I’m here. To finish it.” He pokes at the end of the knife.

“Y-You’re fucking crazy!”

The guy takes off in a sprint for the front door. Making your bestfriend sigh. He goes after him and the poor guy isn’t even able to open the door before he’s dragging him back from the collar of his shirt.

“Gosh you don’t have to make this hard you know.” He rubs at his forehead.

“I swear! I didn’t mean to make her uncomfortable! She’s just really pretty—” He nodded along as the guy rambled on, dragging the knife along the guys chest.

“I’ve heard this so many times. Why do you guys always try to justify your actions in the end.” He sucks at his teeth.

“You guys always end up the same either ways. Dead.”

The guys plea’s are white noise in his mind as he plunges the knife in him. It’s always in these moments he feels like something takes over and when he snaps out of it, the work is already done.

He spends some time cleaning up the body. His hands his clothes. Making it look like a murder scene. He curses at himself when he sees the missed calls from you. He dials your number and your pretty voice engulfs his ears.

“Hey, where’ve you been.” He could hear your pout across the line making him smile as he makes his way to his car.

“A lot of the convenience stores are closed so I had to go to one far from your house.” He lies through his teeth.

“Oh ok then.” You murmur and he smiles.

“I’ll be right there ok pretty?” You hum and he hangs up.

When he’s finally back with bags of snacks, you cheer.

“Finally! I missed you.” You say as you throw your arms around his neck. You go to kiss his cheek but spot something.

“Hey what is this?” You swipe your thumb over his cheek, it’s a red stain.

“Huh?” He peers down at your thumb and places the bags on the floor. He laughs and you glance at him confused.

“I might’ve had a little snack without you, it’s ketchup.” You whine and push at his chest but he picks you up, letting you squeal as he places you on your bed.

“It’s fine, I got you all your favorites ok.” He leans in, his breath fanning your lips. It makes you gasp and your eyes lid. He pecks the corner of your mouth, getting off of you and grabbing the bags.

You’re left there on your bed a flushing mess as he hums, sorting out the snacks. You chew at your lip and sit next to him.

“Hey I have a question.” He hums, still taking things out.

“H—How come you don’t kiss me?” He faces you but you’re messing with your hands.

“You’re always calling me names and treating me like your girlfriend. You even scare away guys when they come up to me. But we’re still best friends?” He hates how confused you look.

“C’mere.” He pats his lap and you move to straddle him.

“You want me to kiss you?” He tilts his head and you nod.

His lips are on yours and they’re wasting no time. They’re feverish around yours and if the tv wasn’t on you would’ve payed attention to how loud your guys lips smacked against each others. When he inserts his tongue into your mouth you let out a moan, tugging at his hair. He smiles and pulls away.

“You’ve been waiting for this huh?” You nod quickly.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t feel the same way.” You rest your face on his shoulder. He places kisses on your cheek and down to your neck.

“Oh baby, if only you knew how far I’d go for you.”

YUTA OKKOTSU, KAZUTORA HANEMIYA, HARUCHIYO SANZU, Armin Arlert, Vigilante Deku, Hirofumi Yoshida,

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

00.1. the first time you saw quinn hughes.

➴ warnings: mentions of shitty family.

➴ word count: 1.08k

➴ author’s note: this has been sitting on my drafts for days because i wasn’t brave enough to post it. but this story is very important to me and i promised myself i’d stop doubting what i write and just go for it. i hope with all my heart u guys like this ♡

౨ৎ

2013, SEPTEMBER.

THE first time you saw Quinn Hughes you were eleven years old.

Your family had just bought the house next to his, a beautiful four bedroom house with lots of space and a beautiful backyard— the perfect house for a family of four.

It was a week after you all settled in, your Dad as a Sports Medicine Physician working for a Hockey Canadian team, the Toronto Maple Leafs— the whole reason why you moved in the first place— your Mom as a Editor-in-Chief for the Fashion magazine, one of Canada's leading fashion publications, featuring content related to fashion, beauty, culture, and modeling and your brother, Peter, in High School as a freshman.

You were sitting on your porch, while you waited for Peter to be back so you could convince him to play football with you. He always said no, but you didn't give up. A few minutes later, Peter got out of your neighbor’s house, alongside another boy, who was slightly shorter than Peter.

You watched as they both walked towards your house, talking about something you couldn’t hear. You remember being so enamored with the sight of the boy that you couldn’t stop fidgeting your hands.

They stopped right in front of you, and while Peter was ready to ignore you and move on with his day— he’d been doing that more and more since he started High School— the other boy stopped and looked right at you.

“You didn’t tell me you have a sister.” The boy said, looking at your brother for a second before turning back at you.

“Oh, yeah,” Peter shrugged. “That’s Madison. She’s ten.”

“I’m eleven,” you corrected, voice soft and quiet.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, grabbing his keys so he could open the front door.

“Can you play with me now?” You asked, getting up from your seat, finally noticing how tall this other boy was. “I have the ball with me already.” You pointed at the ball that sat on the same couch you were also sitting not a minute ago.

“No, Madison. I’m with Quinn now.” Peter said, pointing at the boy beside him, who was now frowning at your brother.

Quinn. That’s a funny name, you remember thinking.

“We can play with her, I don’t mind—” the boy, Quinn, said, already reaching for the ball.

“Nah, bro. She’s annoying as hell. Once you pick that ball up, you won’t be able to let it go for like, three hours.” Peter replied, already opening the door.

You felt yourself tearing up and even though you hated crying in front of your brother, you couldn’t help it. Growing up, he was your best friend. Your hero even, when your parents decided that arguing during dinner, in front of their children, was a nice thing to do and he would make funny faces at you across the table just so you could laugh. When he pretended to yell at the monster under your bed or when he let you paint his nails with your pink nail polish.

But somewhere between turning fifteen and entering High School, he changed. And you hated every inch of this new Peter Carter.

He entered the house, shouting something, probably announcing to your mom that he was home. And you stood there, looking at your hands.

“Next time, I’ll play with you, okay?” Quinn, who was still standing in front of you, hesitated, looking as devastated as ever.

You felt embarrassed and you got out of there as fast as you could, running back inside and nestling yourself between your covers and plushies.

౨ৎ

YOU didn’t think Quinn had meant what he had said the other day, so you were surprised to see that he showed up the next morning, when both of your parents were at work and Peter was asleep in his bedroom upstairs.

“Hey,” he greeted you, stepping on your backyard patio and looking around. “Nice place you got here. We can play for a long time without risking throwing the ball in Mrs. Wright window.”

You giggled, remembering Mrs. Wright's funny wig.

“I’m Quinn Hughes.” He introduced himself after a while.

“I know that,” you whispered, watching as he laughed. “How old are you?”

“I’m thirteen, but I turn fourteen on October 14th,” he said. “You’re eleven, right?”

“Yes. My birthday was in May. I got this ball,” you raised the ball you were holding so he could see it better. It had your name on it. “And I also got new clothes for my plushies.”

“That sounds nice,” he nodded. “I’ll probably get a new stick on my birthday.”

“Why would you need a stick?” You asked, not sure what he could do with a stick. A tree’s stick. At least that’s what you thought a stick was.

Maybe he wants to put it on his fireplace.

“I play Hockey,” he answered and you still didn’t understand. The only thing you knew about Hockey was that it was the reason you and your family moved to Toronto. So it probably wasn’t a good thing. “And I need a new one.”

“Well, if it makes you happy, then I guess it’s fine,” you shrugged, poking your ball. “But that will probably be boring. You should ask for something cooler.”

He laughed again, sitting on the grass beside you. “I’ll think about that. Thank you for your advice.”

You puffed your chest a little, happy to feel useful for once.

That morning, you and Quinn didn’t end up playing; instead, you talked for hours, with you both asking each other questions about literally everything. From what’s your favorite color to what you wanna be when you grow up.

You could feel your heart racing in your chest every time you stared into his blue eyes that sometimes morphed into a light green shade, but you didn’t understand why. Quinn was being nice, he was treating you just like Peter did before you moved to Toronto and it felt so, so nice.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” You asked, right before he left for lunch at his house.

“I think so.” He smiled, quickly patting you on the head. He gave you a short wave before moving back to his home.

And you just stood there, counting the seconds so that maybe tomorrow would come faster, and you’d finally have a friend again.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 77

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe: Military School

Words: 5K

Masterlist

———————————————————————

Saturday, April 2; 1:50 PM - Downtown.

Time is passing. Only one week remains before the holidays. I'm eager to get there. Lucy and I have agreed that I will give my all during these last weeks so that I can relax afterward. It's tough. I'm barely with my friends at school anymore, but I want to be ready for the big day. They know and understand that. Another thing that's hard is that Lucy doesn’t show me any affection at school. Ever since Wiegman found out, she's been very cautious. Sometimes she hugs me in the evening or gives me a kiss or two, but that's it. So, I'm glad it's the weekend. At least now, she doesn't hold back.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asks me.

"Of course," I chuckle. "It's not the first time I've been here."

Today is the second Saturday I'm going to work with Grace at the gallery. She wants to make sure we can work together and that we both enjoy it. Personally, I loved being here last week. It didn't feel like work. Grace has a much more modern style, thanks to street art. Mine is still very classical, so I understand why she said she could teach me a lot. We complement each other in a way. She asked me to come back today, and she'll give me her decision tonight. By the end of the day, I'll know if my future has a chance in this field. I sincerely hope so. It's the only concrete offer I have. I know that if I get my degree, I can find work in administration, but let's just say that’s not what I want.

"True," Lucy replies. "Will you text me when you're done?"

"Like last time, yes. Say hi to everyone for me."

Lucy is going to meet up with her friends at the venue. They need to clear out the last few things before next week. I think they still have a lot to do. I regret not being with them. I enjoy lending a hand, but I have other responsibilities today.

"I won't forget," she says with a smile.

"And tell Ale I'm supporting her with all my strength for tonight."

Lucy laughs, nodding. Leah party is tonight. I sulked about it for a long time. I felt a little guilty for not being there since I haven't been spending much time with them, but I can always count on Lucy to lift my spirits.

"I'll tell her. Now go. You’re going to be late again."

"How about a little kiss first?"

She smiles and leans over to kiss me.

"Have a good day, my love," I say before getting out of the car.

I close the door and walk toward the gallery. I know Lucy won't leave until I’m inside. And that's exactly what happens. I enter the gallery, triggering the little bell hanging on the door. I take the time to close it, and only then do I see my girlfriend's car pulling away. I smile at that but quickly refocus.

"Ah, hey Ona," Grace greets me.

"Hey," I reply.

The first thing she asked me to do last week was to speak informally with her. I must admit it’s a relief. She's young, probably around Lucy’s age. At least I’m sure I won’t mess up. It also makes me feel more comfortable.

"How are you?"

"Good, and you?"

I smile and approach her for a cheek kiss. The gallery she owns is nothing like Mr. Fields'. It's smaller. Much smaller, but I love it. It's very cozy. It's dark, with occasional light accents here and there. I recognize her style from Nyko's paintball artwork.

"You came at the perfect time. I was trying to hang a painting, but it’s up high, and I couldn’t manage alone. Can you help me?"

"Yeah, of course. I’ll just drop my stuff in the back."

"Oops, sorry, poor you," she laughs. "I'm already piling on the work. Go ahead, I’ll wait."

"Oh no, don’t worry," I giggle.

"Meet me in the back."

I nod while taking off my jacket. The gallery is shaped like an "L." It's on a corner, which is lucky. This way, each piece displayed is lit by the large windows. Grace had the entire place renovated, and I must admit it’s brilliant. Passersby can see inside without having to come in. I go behind the counter to reach a back room. There’s about 20 square meters of space here, which serves as a workshop, storage, and even a dressing room. I hang my bag and jacket on the coat rack before joining Grace at the back of the gallery. Now I understand why she needed my help. She’s waiting for me at the top of a stepladder, with a huge canvas on the floor.

"Wow, it's beautiful," I comment.

The painting is a street art piece of the city of Seattle in multicolored hues. I can totally recognize Grace’s style in it. It’s truly stunning.

"Did you make it?" I ask, just to be sure.

"Yeah," she smiles. "I want it to be the centerpiece, but as you can see, it’s quite big."

"Yeah, I can see that," I chuckle. "Hold on, I’ll lift it for you."

No sooner said than done. I lift the painting so she can grab it where she’s standing. I hold it until she manages to hang it from the suspended ceiling using hooks. Unlike the rest of the room, the ceiling is made of white oak beams. It contrasts nicely with the anthracite walls.

"Phew, thanks."

She climbs down the stepladder, and we step back to see how it looks.

"Not bad, huh?"

"It looks great," I reply. "I think the painting’s just a little crooked."

"Yeah, I just noticed that," she giggles. "Can you stay below in case it slips?"

I nod, and we adjust it until it's perfectly straight. Meanwhile, several people have entered the gallery. Most are just curious, but I think some of the paintings catch their eye. Grace told me that most people come back later for a painting that caught their attention. I guess business isn’t doing too bad.

"Have you sold more paintings?" I ask, noticing some empty spots.

"Yeah," she says with a smile. "Can you help me replace them? Then we can get back to the painting you started last week."

"Sounds good to me."

"Not like you have a choice," she teases.

I laugh and shake my head. We head to the storage room to get the new paintings. I’m supposed to stay until closing, but I can tell we’re not going to be idle. That’s fine with me. I prefer this to sitting around doing nothing.

Saturday, April 2; 5:20 PM - Gallery.

"Well, I think it’s time to stop," Grace tells me.

I check the time. It’s almost 5:30. I’m surprised. The time flew by.

"Oh yeah. I’ll text Lucy so she can pick me up."

"Don’t you have your own car?" she asks.

"Not yet, but I think it’s coming soon."

"That would be better, indeed," she smiles.

I text Lucy to let her know I'm done, then I start putting away the tools I used and wash my brushes in the sink. I haven’t finished my painting yet, but I’m sure I’ll have another chance to work on it. Grace’s advice has been really helpful. She has a completely different method than mine, but I appreciate her feedback. Once I’m done, I return to the front where Grace is behind the counter. She managed to sell four paintings this afternoon—and not just any paintings. I think she’s doing pretty well for someone who just started out on her own.

"All done."

"Great," she says. "I promised I’d give you my answer about next year, so here it is," she says, handing me a form.

I pick it up to see what it is. A small smile forms as I realize it’s an application for the Seattle School of Art.

- Does this mean…?

- These two half-days with you were cool. You’re nice, you know how to do good work, and you’ve got talent. That’s all I was asking for.

- Wow, I say, not knowing what else to say.

- I was able to enter one of your pieces into the school's last enrollment competition thanks to my contacts, and you’ve been selected, she tells me.

I’m having trouble understanding. She entered me into a competition without me knowing?

- You…

- Sorry for not asking your permission, but I didn’t have a choice, she giggles, seeing the look on my face.

- It’s no problem.

- You’ve still got a lot of work to improve, Ona, but you really impressed them, so… she shrugs. Welcome, I guess.

Unable to hold back, I hug her. It’s really the least I can do. She just saved my entire future.

- Thank you, thank you, thank you!

I’m so relieved. A huge weight has just been lifted off my shoulders. She giggles at my reaction, but she doesn’t realize what she’s giving me. I’m finally going to be able to live my dream. Just six months ago, I thought this was impossible. All my life, I’ve been told I couldn’t make a living from this, and yet here it is, happening. It feels like a dream. I release my new boss when I hear the doorbell chime. I smile when I see Lucy walk in.

- Well, it seems like there’s good news here.

- Oh yes! I exclaim, handing her the application form.

Lucy looks at it for a moment, then glances between us with a smile forming on her lips.

- Ah, yes, I see now. That’s really amazing. Thank you so much, Grace. Ona can finally relax a bit.

- Oh, it was my pleasure, Grace replies with a small laugh.

I go to Lucy and slip into her arms. She kisses the top of my head while still holding the form.

- Do we need to send this to the school? she asks.

- Uh, it’s better if you bring it back to me. I need to return it as soon as possible to my contact at the school.

- Alright. Well, do you have a little time? We can fill it out now.

- Oh, that would be great, yeah. I’ll get you a pen.

As soon as she leaves for the back, I let out a little squeal of joy. Lucy laughs, holding me tighter.

- Can you believe it!?

- Yes, yes, she giggles. This is really amazing, babe. I’m proud of you.

She kisses me softly. I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. I can’t believe all of this is happening so fast. Just a few weeks ago, I imagined myself sorting papers at a desk.

- You know what you have to do now, she whispers to me. You absolutely have to pass your exam.

- I’m working on it. I think I’m doing pretty well.

- Yes, that’s true, she smiles. Who would’ve thought you’d get serious one day…

I stick my tongue out at her teasing. Grace comes back with a pen, and Lucy helps me fill out my part. I realize I don’t even know her address, and it’s about to become mine soon. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to move in with her and call it my home too. I already feel at home there, but it’ll be more official. We’ll be there every day, together. Just thinking about it makes me feel strange. The form is easy to fill out. I double-check that I haven’t forgotten anything before copying the information onto the other two forms. I sign them and hand them to my new boss, who smiles mischievously.

- Well, you’ve just signed your death warrant. You’re under my command now, she jokes.

- Oh, there are worse things… I hope, I giggle.

- You’ll have time to form your opinion, Lucy comments. Well, shall we head out now?

- Great idea. I’m heading home as well. My boyfriend is taking me out to dinner tonight.

- Lucky you, I say with a smile. Well then…

I don’t finish my sentence. I’m not really sure what to say. Now that I’ve signed the papers, what’s next? Grace seems to understand my dilemma, as she says:

- I’ll contact you for the next steps. I’ll give you the details of when you start working here and when your classes start too. You’ll probably need to come back to sign a contract.

- No problem. I’m close by, after all.

- Great. Well, have a good evening then.

- Have a good evening too.

I head to the back to grab my things and return to Lucy. We say goodbye to my new boss one last time before heading out. I feel like a ball of energy. Everything is falling into place now that I’ve signed that form.

- What are we doing tonight?

- Well, I may have reserved a table too…

- Really?

I turn to her sharply. She smiles, amused by my reaction.

- Yep. I thought it would be nice to celebrate the good news.

- Oh yeah? And how did you know, huh? I just found out myself.

I smile as she presses me gently against the car when we reach it. Her hands rest softly on my hips. I relax as her lips tease mine.

- You should know I never doubt you…

- Why are you so perfect? I murmur, wrapping my arms around her neck.

- I’m not.

- Yes, you are, at least with me.

- Well, that’s because you make me that way. Because I love you.

I groan and lean in to kiss her, but she pulls back, keeping me just out of reach. I pout. I don’t like it when she denies me a kiss.

- Don’t make that face, she smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I wanted to apologize, because I’m not as perfect as you think. I’m denying you a night with your friends tonight.

I step back at those words. I can see a hint of sadness in her eyes. It’s partly my fault. I guess I made my disappointment a little too clear about it. I smile, caressing her cheek.

- The most important thing is that I’m spending the evening with you, my love.

- Really…? Because—

- You’re the most important person to me. I know you’re anxious about meeting them.

- What—

- Don’t take me for a fool, I interrupt her with an amused tone. I know you hide your fear behind the idea that we have to be discreet at school. But we both know you’re just scared of meeting them as my girlfriend.

Lucy opens her mouth, then closes it. I love when I can leave her speechless. It’s so rare. She sighs, shaking her head, and tries to pull away, but I hold her close. Our chests are pressed together. I can feel her heart beating a little too fast. She doesn’t like being caught off guard, and I get it. I feel the same way when she surprises me.

- You’re right, she whispers. I’m sorry.

- Don’t be. I totally understand. It must not be easy to meet your students as my friends.

- No, not really. I tend to know what everyone thinks of me at school.

She’s not wrong. Even now, everyone asks me how I can spend so much time with Lucy. They can’t see her as the woman standing in front of me right now, and it’s such a shame. I slide my hand under her hair, gently stroking her neck. My touch seems to calm her down.

That’s true, I murmur. But they don’t know my girlfriend. I know it must be scary for you, but it’s important to me. I want people to meet my girlfriend. I want to show you off. To say that you’re mine, like you do.

- Like me, huh?

- Oh yes. Do I need to remind you of the number of hickeys you've given me? You love to claim that I belong to you.

- Yeah, that's true... There's still a bit of me missing on you, though.

I giggle as her lips brush against my neck.

- No, Lucia! I replied, gently pushing her away.

- What, you don't like my marks? she teased.

- Stop it. That'll be the first thing they tease you about.

- Really? I bet they'll mock my commander nickname instead.

- You want to play that game? Alright, let's make a bet then.

- A bet, huh? OK. If I'm right, I get to do whatever I want with you for a whole evening, and vice versa if you're right.

- Hmm... OK, I'm in.

- Good, she said, pecking my lips. Now let's go. We'll be late for my program otherwise.

- Your program, huh? What do you have planned for me this time?

- A romantic evening, she announced as she walked around the car. I had to make up for the event we're not attending tonight.

- You didn't have to, but I like it. I enjoy going out with you.

- Don’t expect anything crazy. We're just going to have dinner, and I thought we could go to the movies afterward, she said once seated behind the wheel.

- I particularly like that plan, I said while fastening my seatbelt.

- Perfect, then.

We exchanged a smile before she drove off. She took me to a restaurant I didn't know, one fancier than the places we usually go to.

- It's a French restaurant, she whispered as a waiter guided us to our table.

- Really? I asked with a small smile. What gave you the idea?

- Nowhere, I just enjoy coming here.

Lucy had everything planned. She really booked a table, and we were lucky enough to get one on the restaurant's veranda. I wondered how long ago she made the reservation.

- Thank you, she said to the waiter.

- You're welcome. Here are the menus. I'll be back to check on you later.

- Thanks, I added as he left.

I looked around. It was particularly beautiful here, and we were lucky that the sky was clear.

- It's beautiful, I whispered while staring at the starry sky.

- I booked last week... when Grace told me she'd be watching you.

I lowered my eyes, mouth slightly agape.

- Y-you knew?

- Well... yeah, she replied mischievously. She just wanted to keep you waiting a bit longer, so you'd keep giving your best today.

She laughed while I sulked. She knew before I did. But how could I hold it against her when I saw where we were now?

- You're lucky I enjoy surprises.

She laughed and intertwined our fingers. I brought them to my lips for a kiss. This moment of relaxation felt particularly good. I felt exhausted from giving so much, but now that I knew where I was headed next year, I was even more motivated to ace my final exam, which was fast approaching. I’d already had a preview with my recent tests, and I hadn’t done too badly. Next week, we have mock exams. I'm looking forward to them because at least I’ll know exactly where I stand before the real ones.

- What are you thinking about?

- A lot of things, I answered with a small smile. How will things go from here?

- Well, as planned. You’ll take your mock exams, then we’ll go on vacation.

- I can't wait, I giggled. I’m so done with all this.

- I bet, but it'll be fine, she reassured me.

- And after that?

- After that? she asked, tilting her head.

- Well, after... after school...

We were interrupted by the waiter who came to take our drink orders. I trusted Lucy and chose the same as her, a non-alcoholic cocktail. We waited for him to leave before I turned back to Lucy. She shrugged.

- After school... well, we’ll go to Barcelona, and then we'll come back here.

- To live at your place, I murmured.

The idea seemed so surreal. Yet, it was what was going to happen in just a few weeks. After all this time.

- Have you changed your mind?

I snapped out of my thoughts at her question. I could see a hint of concern in her eyes.

- What? No, no! I was just thinking... maybe we could make things more official...?

- What do you mean?

- It might be too soon but... I’d like, I don’t know... to co-own the apartment? We’re going to live together, so I want to contribute to the expenses.

Lucy nodded before sinking into her chair, crossing her arms.

- That’s indeed a big step, becoming a co-owner.

- I don’t want us to move. The apartment is great, but... I want to invest in it, you know?

- I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

I opened my mouth, but I closed it when Lucy raised her hand to stop me from arguing.

- I trust us, I know how you feel, but you never know what could happen. There could be complications between us, and I wouldn’t want the apartment to become another relationship issue to deal with.

- I’m not planning on leaving you, I said, pouting.

Lucy laughed and leaned toward me. She grabbed both my hands, pulling them under her chin.

- I know, love, but it’s too soon. Tomorrow, we’ll celebrate two months together. I know we both feel like we’ve been together longer, but it’s only been two months.

- That’s true, I muttered.

- How about we see how living together full-time goes? I don’t think there will be any problems, but it’ll be a big difference from just weekends.

I nodded, feeling a little sulky. I didn’t like how right she was. After all, we were just at the beginning of our relationship, but I craved more. I needed more, I think, but I didn’t dare say it.

- Hey, she murmured.

She lifted my chin, forcing our eyes to meet. I hated facing her gaze. It made me feel so vulnerable. There was a determination in her eyes that sometimes made me wonder how she got to where she was.

- Don’t make that face. We have all the time in the world now, okay? There’s no need to rush. That’s how we’ll crash into a wall.

- Yeah... I mumbled.

I hated that she was right. The last time I rushed, it ended badly. I wanted to do things right, but at the same time, I wanted to speed things up. The waiter returned to bring our drinks and take our order. Since I hadn’t really paid attention to the menu, I agreed to Lucy’s suggestion that we share a dish—cheese platter, actually. She sold me on the idea, saying it was really good, so I accepted. As the waiter left, I still felt uneasy, but Lucy remained unfazed.

- Honey, one day, I’m going to make you my wife. We’ll buy a big house together, and maybe even have kids. I want all of that just as much as you do. Don’t think otherwise.

- I know, Lucia...

I blushed slightly at her words. If she wanted them to affect me, well, it was working. Wife and kids were big words, perfectly expressing our future together.

- So be patient. First and foremost, we need to learn how to live together and build a stable future. It all starts with a good job. Neither of us knows what our work experience will lead to, and it’s good to focus on that before jumping into anything else. Don’t you agree?

I sighed but nodded.

- Yeah, fine, you win.

She chuckled softly.

- Come on, give me a kiss.

I leaned in to give her what she wanted. I could never deny her that.

- Can we enjoy the evening now?

- Yes.

Our cheese platter finally arrived, and I had to admit it was a good choice. Lucy really knew what was good, and I enjoyed it thoroughly.

- I wonder how things are going with Alexia, I mused as we started eating.

- No idea, my girlfriend giggled. But she wasn’t feeling well this afternoon. I had to comfort her.

- You, comforting her? Now I’ve seen everything.

- Well, yeah. I like her, surprisingly.

- That’s good news then, I teased. At least one of my friends you like.

- Oh, stop it, she rolled her eyes. I like Mapi too.

- That wasn’t the case in the beginning.

- We were both jealous, but I think she’s starting to understand where her place is with me.

- Yeah, I think you're right.

I sipped my drink, reflecting on the conversation we had a few weeks ago. Mapi had defended Lucy regarding what she didn’t yet know about Feli. I think she has indeed figured out her place with Lucy, even if she struggled to admit it. After all, she was my only close friend before I came here.

- Thinking about something in particular? Lucy asked, noticing I was lost in thought.

- No, I said, blushing. Just that you're right. She defended you not too long ago.

- Really? About what?

I shrugged. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.

- Something unimportant...

I know I’m a terrible liar, but I didn’t want to ruin our night with negative thoughts. Lucy stayed silent for a moment but eventually nodded.

- Okay, she whispered. You know you can tell me anything, right?

- Of course, I said with a small smile. But it’s nothing important. I just wanted you to know that she defended you, and I was the first one surprised.

- Alright... well, I guess things are changing.

We shared a smile. I knew she realized I wasn’t telling her everything, but I appreciated that she didn’t push. The evening continued without any more unsettling topics.

[cosmicdahlias]

Can Bill Come Out To Play?

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: smut, possession, masochism, consensual torture, knife play, blood play, blood as lube, oral, spanking, choking, bruising, fainting, slapping, dubcon impreg, putting cigarettes out on you

okay y’all this one is supremely fucked up, i know i’ve written my share of dark fics but this one takes the cake if the warnings are any indication. it was a request by @thegrovesheart but i probably went way more overboard than what the anon was asking for. i’m sorry y’all are about to see how bad my kinks are, hopefully you’ll still enjoy the ride 🤞

It was late at night, you and Ford had just finished a long day of working on the portal. You were cuddled up in bed, him pressed up against you as the big spoon. He was lazily tracing his fingers over the curves of your body. You had been about to fall asleep, but the sensation of his hands on you was too arousing. You rolled over, facing him and slipped your hand to his cock.

You stroked him and he let out a soft moan, his eyes closed in pleasure. You kissed him deeply, when you pulled back he opened his eyes, they were different, wild and yellow with reptilian slits for pupils.

“Ford?”

He laughed, even his voice was off, higher, more sinister. He smiled wide, almost like the corners of his mouth were about to split open.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. The name’s Bill Cipher, I’m your good old boyfriend here’s muse. I figured if I’m gonna be in his mind I might as well get acquainted the little minx that occupies his thoughts when they’re not about me. That’s right, kid, the man’s absolutely obsessed with you, well, not more than me, but you’re a close second.”

“So what do you want with me?”

“Well, dollface, I’ve been taking a peek into your dreams and I gotta say, you are quite the freak. I’m honestly impressed, most humans don’t enjoy pain nearly as much as you do. Have you told Fordsy? I doubt it, honestly he’d be too much of a pussy to do any of the shit you think about. And that’s where I come in, you love fucking Ford, but he’ll never truly satisfy you in the way you want. I have no hangups about causing pain, hell I love it! If you agree, I’ll give you everything you want and more. What do you say?”

After your time researching things like demonic possession the idea of being fucked by a demon always excited you. And the fact that he’d hurt you in ways that Ford never would? Fuck the hell yes. You should have been terrified, but when you looked into those yellow eyes you only felt desire.

“Deal.”

“Ahahaha, perfect. Let’s get started.”

Ford’s hands traveled down your body, his grip rougher than normal. He put a hand to your throat and sank his teeth into your throat. You yelped as he drew blood, it seeped down your neck and Ford dragged his tongue over the crimson liquid.

“Fuck, I forgot how good that tastes.”

He got up, searching for something.

“I know sixer keeps one around here somewh- aha!” He said, pulling out a large hunting knife.

He walked back over to the bed, getting on top of you. He dragged the flat end of the blade against your skin, every so often testing the waters by poking you with the tip light enough to not slice into your flesh, not yet. Goosebumps formed from the sensation, no one had ever done anything to you like this, you were on cloud nine.

“I think you’ll like this.” He smiled.

He let the knife travel to your inner thigh and begin to cut the soft skin. You winced and moaned. Bill let out a cold laugh.

“God you’re fucked up, kid.”

He took his time carving the words “Bill’s slut” into your thigh, pearls of blood forming at the surface. Satisfied with his work he gathered your blood on his fingertips.

“Open that pretty mouth.”

You did so and his fingers entered, the metallic taste hitting your tongue. He pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his lips aggressively to yours, tongue shoving its way into your mouth, searching for the taste of blood.

He pulled away. His wide smile hadn’t left his face since he took hold of Ford. He reversed his hold of the knife, gripping the sharp blade in his hand. He teased the entrance of your pussy with the hilt. You were dripping at the idea, inching yourself closer.

He shoved the handle aggressively inside you, fucking you with it. He didn’t let up on his grip, the knife sinking into Ford’s palm, blood trickled down the knife.

“Whoops, might as well make the best of it.”

He pulled the handle out of you and covered Ford’s blood in it before resuming fucking you with the hilt.

“Bet you never used blood as lube before have you? And judging by how wet you are I’d say you’re enjoying this.”

You whimpered, bucking your hips. Blood continued to drip from Ford’s hand, staining the sheets. He pulled the knife out and dragged you headfirst to the edge of the bed, tilting your head back back. He stroked his cock and thumbed your tongue.

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth and I’m not gonna stop even when you choke and gag on Fordsy’s cock, sound good?”

You nodded.

“Good, just try not to puke on his dick, I don’t think he’d appreciate that.”

He lined the tip up with your open lips before violently forcing his way into your mouth, holding a hand to your throat the entire time.

He thrusted relentlessly and you began to gag, saliva pooling on the floor. He pinched your nipples hard, you let out a muffled moan.

“That’s right, moan on his cock.”

He carried on fucking your mouth. Savoring your desperate attempts to breathe. He debated on covering your nose just to make things harder, he loved to see you struggle.

He pulled out, you coughed and gasped for air. He picked you up and flipped you over on your stomach, shoving your face down into the pillow and raising your ass. Ford bent over and picked up his belt. He came up behind you and brought it down hard on your ass. You moaned as a welt began to form. He continued lashing you until your legs began to shake.

“Man you really can take a beating.”

He flipped you over again, this time on your back and slipped the belt around your neck then climbed on top of you, hand tugging on the leather.

“I’ve always wanted to know what pussy feels like, Fordsy makes it sound even better than pain with the way he describes it”

He didn’t waste any time preparing you, brutally shoving his full length inside you, pumping rapidly. He moaned loudly.

“Ah ahahaha, fuck, now I see why sixer fantasizes about this all the time. It feels fucking incredible.”

He pulled hard on the belt, choking you. You tightened around his cock. Capillaries in your neck started to break, you were going to be left with one hell of a bruise. He was ruthless, fucking you with cruel intensity.

He pulled the belt even tighter, you began to asphyxiate. Finding this insanely hot, but still valuing your life you tried to tell Ford to loosen his grip, but your windpipe was being crushed. All you could manage out was a guttural choking noise as you clawed at the belt.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I can’t quite make it out.” He said, ignoring your obvious attempts to breathe. He pulled as tight as he could, you couldn’t even gasp. “Oh well, must not be important.” He shrugged, continuing to fuck you.

Despite what felt like a threat to your life you found yourself incredibly turned on. Your vision started to go black. The last thing you heard was a maniacal laugh.

-

When you came to Ford was still fucking you.

“Whoa hey you’re back, thought we lost you for a second there.” He said with his twisted smile.

His hands found your hips, he gripped them, nails digging into your flesh hard enough to break the skin.

“Say my name, slut.” He demaned.

“Nnngh, Ford.” You moaned.

He backhanded you. “I SAID SAY MY NAME, YOU STUPID CUNT!” He shouted.

“B-Bill.” You whimpered.

“That’s better. Remember who’s really in control here, sixer will never fuck you like this.”

He pounded you into the mattress. He felt himself close to cumming.

“So you’re gonna find this hilarious, I’ve been having sixer switch out your birth control with sugar pills. That’s right, they do jack shit. I’ve always been fascinated by human pregnancy and I mean hey, you’re young and fertile. And it’s too late to stop me now. Ahahahaha!”

Before you could even think to push him off you he pinned you down by the wrists, cumming deep inside you. He bucked rapidly, ropes of hot cum shooting inside you. He grunted, refusing to stop even when his cock began hurt. God he loved causing Ford pain. He didn’t know how humans got anything done or why they didn’t just fuck 24/7.

Ford took your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Well this was fun, but it’s probably time for me to give old Fordsy his body back, don’t yo- oh wait, one last parting gift.”

He reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a lighter and pack of cigarettes. He took one out and lit it up, taking a long drag and puffing the smoke in your face. He grinned wildly, turning your head to expose your neck and putting it out on your skin. You screwed your eyes shut and moaned loudly. He bent down and licked the burn.

“Oooh wee, you sure are fun. I’m definitely coming back for more, but I think I’m satisfied for now. Okay byeeeeeeeee.”

Ford’s head snapped back. He shook his head, blinking rapidly, his eyes returning to normal.

“Ugh, wh- what happened? Did I black ou- “ He looked down at you and gasped in horror, backing away from you to the foot of the bed.

You were a shaking mess, you honestly looked like you’d been through a bear attack.

“Y/N! WHAT HAPPENED? WHO DID THIS TO YOU?” He started to hyperventilate.

You sat up and took his face in your hands. “Hey hey, it’s alright, I wanted this.”

“OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY? SHOULD I TAKE YOU TO THE HOSPITAL? SHOULD I FILE A POLICE REPORT? DID I DO THIS? WHY AREN’T YOU SAYING ANYTHI-“ he froze. “D- did you say you wanted this?”

You kissed him.

“Look, I have been having some… fantasies and Bill and I both agreed that you wouldn’t be able to do them to me on your own.”

“You met Bill?”

“He was possessing you, but yeah I met him.”

He stared at you, looking terrified before attempting to fix his face to a more neutral expression, almost like he was afraid he would be punished for showing fear.

“That’s- that’s wonderful. I always hoped he’d let you meet him someda-“ now that the adrenaline had settled he got a good look at you. “Oh baby your neck.” He looked down. “Y- your thigh.”

Blood was trickling from both wounds. He looked at you with great concern.

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Like I said, I wanted this.”

Without saying a word he got off the bed and left the room, he returned with a first aid kit. He sat next to you.

“Come here.” He whispered softly.

You leaned into him as he saturated a cotton ball in disinfectant.

“Now this is going to sting quite a bit.”

He applied the soaked cotton ball to your neck wound, you drew in a sharp breath at the sensation.

“I know, I’m sorry baby.”

“No it’s okay, I like the pain.”

He gave small chuckle. “So I’ve heard.”

He took a second cotton ball, wetting it with disinfectant, pressing it to the branding that Bill had left you. You winced.

Ford kissed your cheek. “Almost done, stardust. You’re doing so good.”

He pulled gauze and medical tape out of the first aid kit. He started with the bite, lining up the gauze to cover it and securing it in place with the tape. He then turned his attention to the words carved into your thigh, doing the same.

He got up and inspected you carefully from every angle until he noticed the cigarette burn.

“Ah, hold on.”

He left the room again, coming back this time with a soapy wet rag. He sat down next to you again and gently cleaned the wound.

“You can’t use disinfectant on a burn, slows the healing.”

He then dressed the burn the same way he had for your other injuries.

He had always secretly liked treating and bandaging your wounds, he found it to be quite intimate, not even in a sexual way, just that it allowed him to be close to you.

He cupped your cheek in his hand and went to kiss you when he realized he’d gotten blood on your face. He looked down at his hand and shook his head.

“Guess Bill got me too.”

“Don’t worry, I got it.” You smiled.

You took his hand, treating and dressing it just as he had done for you. As you finished wrapping is hand in tape you kissed his knuckles.

He laid back in bed and patted the space in front of him. You crawled up next to him, returning to spooning position. He buried his nose in the crook of your neck and sighed deeply. You were seconds from falling asleep when your eyes snapped open, remembering what Bill had done to your birth control.

“Oh yeah, so uh… Bill might’ve made you knock me up.”

“WHAT???”

-

In the morning Ford would make you stay in bed, insisting you needed rest. For the next few weeks he watched you like a hawk, secretly recording any possible pregnancy symptoms. He pretended to be nonchalant about you being knocked up, only entertaining the idea if you did, but deep down the thought of you pregnant excited him.

He had always imagined continuing his legacy, teaching his child everything he knew. One day he was going to be gone and someone was going to have to continue his work, and he wanted to keep it in the family. He spent his nights after working on the portal holding you, rubbing your stomach after you fell asleep, hoping, praying even that Bill had given him a miracle.

[warlocksoup]

into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu

volume one, chapter two: calls

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

On the rooftop of the Flatiron Building, she leans back, and stares at the sky above her. She’s learned that looking down gives her vertigo, and if she’s lying down, she can pretend she’s not twenty-two stories off the ground.

Noya laughs at her, because he always does, but he still holds her hand, because he knows it makes her feel better. “I can’t believe you’re still afraid of heights.”

“I feel like this is a super reasonable fear to have.” She inches a little but further away from the edge as she speaks. She doesn’t even wanna be close to it. “Plummeting to my death isn’t like, a big priority for me right now.”

He squeezes her hand. “You know I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He would. She doesn’t even doubt that for a second. If right now she stood up and decided to take a swan dive off the side of the building, there would be nothing getting in between him and her, and Noya would have her safely in his arms before she hit the fifteenth floor.

But still. It fucking terrifies her.

“Okay, sorry my primal instinct does not recognize that you got bit by some weird science experiment spider and now you defy all laws of nature,” she rolls her eyes, still tightly holding onto his hand as he sits upright beside her. “I’ll work on that.”

Nishinoya leans over a lightly pinches the soft skin of her stomach under her t-shirt. She squeals. “Keep it up with the attitude and I’ll throw you off the side of this building myself.”

“Hmm, not very hero-like of you, Spider-Man.”

“You bring out the worst in me.”

She grins. “I’m going to have to write an article about this. ‘Spider-Man throws innocent journalist with fear of heights off Flatiron Building.’ Jameson will love it.”

Nishinoya scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure he would. Too bad you’ll be busy being a sidewalk pancake.”

Her eyes find their intertwined hands. It’s always been natural, their friendship, everything that happens between them feels like it’s supposed to. The handholding and the couch-sharing and the arm over her shoulder. It’s always right, with Nishinoya. She doesn’t even have to think about it.

She watches his thumb as it brushes against her skin. “How’s it been out there lately?” she asks.

“Quiet,” Nishinoya replies. “Saving kittens from trees and helping old ladies across the street. Besides Sytsevich, everything’s been quiet since Osborn died. It’s kinda weird, y’know? Like eerie.”

“Yeah, I imagine waiting for the next disaster to strike can feel like that,” she comments, leaning back to stare up at the empty sky. You can’t ever see stars out here. “Hey, Noya?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you’re gonna stay here forever?” she asks. “Just stick around and be Spider-Man for the rest of your life.”

He hums a bit. “I dunno. I think I’ll probably just go wherever you end up.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

She’s sitting on the train, a hot cup of coffee in one hand, and her phone in the other. She’s looking down at an email from her favorite Yahoo user: If you don’t want the whole world to find out, do as I say.

It’s pretty explicit. It’s hard to misinterpret that kind of message, as much as she’s deliberately trying to. Her fingers tap against the paper cup, trying not to let panic work its way up her throat in the middle of this train cab, surrounded by bored commuters that wouldn’t flinch twice at any sort of breakdown she could have.

A heavy breath leaves her lung, and she pockets her phone, trying, with a tight feeling of desperation around her throat, not to think of it. If it’s not in her face, it’ll be marginally easier to pretend.

Yachi’s waiting for her at her desk when she gets into work. She slides into her chair, and Yachi skips the greeting. “Jameson’s pissed,” Yachi says, tapping a pencil against her desk.

“Yeah? What’d Spider-Man do now?” she questions, typing her password in. She mistypes it, and curses slightly under her breath.

“The PI he hired to find out his identity quit,” Yachi laughs. “Apparently there wasn’t enough for him to go off, and the guy got tired of Jameson raising his blood pressure at him for forty minutes a day.”

She snorts. Noya’s told her about private investigators before. Everyone touts that they’re going to be the one to unmask Spider-Man, but it’s kinda tricky trailing a man with superhuman sixth sense and the ability to basically fly through the city. “I give it another three months before he tries this one again.”

“I give it one,” Yachi counters.

Her desktop loads up, and she is immediately hit with a barrage of emails, looking like they’re coming in all at once, all in caps lock. “Fuck, looks like he’s taking it out on me again.”

Email after email, the subject lines varying from things like, “This piece is crap!” to “How are you still employed here?”

Yachi leans forward to get a better at her screen. “Oh, that’s bad. I’ll leave you to that.”

And it’s just that Yachi gives her a sharp grin and two-finger salute that another email pops up. No subject line, just a simple: Wait for my instruction.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn looks smarmy on the television screen, a thin layer of sweat shining on his forehead and slick smile that looks a little bit too pleased for his father’s funeral. She knocks her knee into Noya’s leg underneath the blanket they share. “That guy’s such a piece of shit,” she comments, jerking her chin forward towards the younger Osborn.

Noya knocks his leg back into hers. “My guy looks like he just won the lottery,” he remarks, eyes not leaving the screen. There’s a bit of history between Spider-Man and the Osborn family, mainly consisting of Norman committing acts of domestic terrorism from the vantage point of a hoverboard, dressed like a fucking goblin.

“Yeah, well he basically did,” she snarks. “Imagine inheriting Oscorp before you’re twenty-five. Basically guarantees you a fucking thirty under thirty spot.”

He snorts. “I’d rather not have anything to do with Oscorp. I’d rather be broke.”

"Oh, you mean the company that basically sponsored the lizard-ification of Dr. Connors? I can't imagine why." She lops her head to the side to look at him. “And anyway, I’m broke. You’re a freeloader.”

Nishinoya waves her off. “Same difference.”

She snorts, turning to face the television again to see they’re playing old footage of Norman Osborn in a lab (coat and everything), explaining the mission statement of Oscorp. To build a better future.

There were rumors about Norman, post-mortem. Details floating around about how he was driven mad in his final year. That the Osborn curse had infected him beyond hope, and his mind had began to decay, along with his body. Some people think he’s been dead for much longer. Some people think a group of investors had been secretly running Oscorp for years while Norman received private care upstate. Some people even suspect him of being the Goblin.

She wonders if that was the better future he had envisioned.

Noya shifts uncomfortably in his seat. She reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly in hers. She’s sure he’s wishing the son will be better than his father. She’s hoping too.

His thumb traces circles over her knuckle. He doesn’t look in her direction. She tries to focus on the news and enjoy the way his hand feels in hers before there’s some police broadcast or distant siren or whatever to call him back to duty.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Meet me @ 300 W 57th St tomorrow at 8am. Or I tell everyone about him.

She sits at her desk, biting down on the end of a pencil, and weighing her options.

One: she could tell Noya.

There’s not even a chance he would let her go. Not even if he were there. No matter the argument she would present. Nishinoya would sooner web her to the couch than let her go meet up with some mystery blackmailer. She also knows that this threat would do little to sway him. If she tells Noya, the most likely outcome is him, masked up and aggravated, showing up to fight.

Which would result in ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com telling everyone.

Two: she could do nothing.

There’s really been no hard proof presented to her that shows that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg knows what he claims he knows. This could all very well be a big misunderstanding on her end. And so what? Even if he does know what he claims to, it’s not like the world would so easily believe that Nishinoya Yuu, random unemployed man, is Spider-Man. Random liars claim to be Spider-Man every day. Noya could easily blend in with random liars.

The consequence of doing nothing though is, of course, him telling everyone. And still, the possibility that the masses believe him or that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg does have some hard evidence on his side gnaw away at her. She can’t shoulder that.

Three: she could show up.

She could put some pepper spray in her bag and give Noya the address just in case something happens, and she could go and meet with this mystery blackmailer to see exactly what the fuck it is he wants.

And then, he wouldn’t tell anyone.

The thought of it puts knots in her stomach, and those knots are worsened by the acknowledgement that it’s probably her best course of action.

She sighs, using her cursor to highlight the address he provided and plopping it back into search bar. She’s envisioning some deserted alley, an abandoned storefront or someplace that would leave no witnesses if she were to be kidnapped and/or murdered.

What she wasn’t expecting was fucking Oscorp.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn’s office is neat. Almost empty, save for a few hard-drives and a stack of unopened newspapers at his desk. The wall to ceiling windows provide a view of the city she’s never seen before, and standing in the middle of it, she feels so starkly out of place. She looks behind her, just to see the assistant that led her up here closing the door behind him.

She feels trapped, at once.

Harry himself is leaning against a window, and as if operating on a que, he turns on his heel, a sickly grin plastered on his face, and, if she squints, she can almost see a greenish sort of hue in the undertones of his skin. “There’s my favorite journalist,” he greets, arms extended out as if he was going to hug her.

She steps back. “Erm, yeah,” she responds, head turning slightly to eye the closed door behind her. There’s something off in the air of room, something off-putting in the way Harry is looking at her. “Is there a reason you summoned me here through cryptic emails, or did you just wanna like, hang out?”

He stops, and lets his arms drop back down to his side, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets. “Straight to the point. I like that. I like that quality.”

It’s strange to be in the same room as him, New York City’s prodigal son. She’s seen his face on the cover of magazines and on news segments and she’s written articles about him. Harry Osborn has almost always been some kind of mythic figure in her head. An untouchable prince. Nothing she could get away with printing in the Bugle would ever have any impact on him.

But here before her, he does not look mythic, or untouchable, he looks like a very sick man. His hair falls flatly on his forehead, and he uses the back of sleeve to wipe off droplets of sweat. The longer she looks at him, the greener he seems, like his whole body is lightly stained.

Harry takes another step towards her. She steps back again.

“Y’know,” he drawls, and moves to stand behind the large desk that takes up most of the room; she watches him carefully, eyes trained on his every movement, “one of the most underrated parts of a power acquisition in a company like Oscorp, is that you suddenly have a lot more information at your disposal. A lot of information that money can’t buy.”

There’s something about the way he talks that is starkly unnatural. The PR training bleeds out of every word, and though he looks young, but the way he carries himself is eerily like his father. It makes goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She looks over her shoulder, back at the door behind her. “O-okay.”

Harry takes a seat, like he’s unbothered by her presence. His hand lingers over one of the hard drives. “Did you know that, back in the early two-thousands, this company poured millions into researched on genetically enhanced spiders. They were supposed to be this miracle cure. A magic spider that could cure any illness. Until, of course, the head scientist died in some accident, and they had to kill off the whole project, including all the spiders they bred. Y’know, today, I think we only have one thing to show for that project.”

Her face is hot, and her ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. This all suddenly feels like a mistake, like she’s in over her head and she never should’ve come here without Noya. Her tongue is dry when she tries to speak. “Is this, is this on the record, or…?”

Harry leans forward in her chair, and sneers. It chills her blood, that expression, cold and gnarled. “I’m not interested in going on the record with some second-rate journalist at a trash paper. I’m interested in this.”

Harry Osborn grabs the newspaper on his desk and slams it forward. She takes a step forward to get a better look and knows immediately what it is. It’s the Daily Bugle, with Spider-Man on the front page and her name printed on the bottom.

The First-Ever On-The-Record Interview with the One and Only Spider-Man!

Her hands are shaking. She looks up to see Harry grinning at her. “It’s funny, actually, how someone right out of school, with no credentials and no reputation to go off, could get this kind of interview.”

She can hear her heartbeat, and all she can think of is how unbelievably, colossally fucked she is.

Harry Osborn stands and makes his way to stand directly in front of her. The closer he is, the more of him she can see. The green tint of his skin, the almost scaly quality, the point of his teeth. “I want you to find Spider-Man, and I want you to get him to give me his blood.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

On the busy street beneath the Oscorp building, her fingers tremble as she dials Noya’s number. He answers after the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? I’m just dropping this bodega thief off at the station-“

“Noya,” she cuts him off, trying to hold back the sob in her voice. “I fucked up.”

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