#im really hoping this is coherent enough. was trying to wait to make sure i could make sense lol

[circus4apsycho8]

hey hey! i was wondering if i could maybe get a kai x reader oneshot where the reader is sick.

nothing serious or anything like that, just a cold that makes them slightly delirious and cling onto kai more than they usually do (aka they don't normally do it at all lol)

no pressure if you can't/don't want to do this, btw, i just thought it'd be cute tbh /gen /npa dw

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘! 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 :) 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!

clingy. | kai x reader

You tried to drag yourself out of bed. You really did, considering how much you hate skipping training. 

But today is different – the lopsided pressure in your head is making you dizzy when you try to stand. You’re able to lay back down before you lose your balance. 

Stars, your head is throbbing. Combined with your stuffy nose, sore throat...yeah. Absolutely icky. 

It takes a matter of seconds for you to give up any hope of getting up. Suddenly met with a cold chill, you pull your blanket closer to your chin. 

For a few minutes, you simply lay there, not wanting to move. You’re too achy to even think about standing. 

To no avail, you try to go back to sleep. But you just can’t. For a few minutes, you find yourself tossing and turning until a knock sounds at your door. 

“Huh?” you grunt, throat too sore for you to speak anything coherently. 

“Babe?”

Relief courses through you as Kai steps through, his warm eyes already darting across your bedridden figure. It doesn’t take him long to put the pieces together. 

He sits beside you, one of his hands coming to your cheek. “Oh no...you caught whatever funk Jay brought back, didn’t you?” 

You nod, pointing to your throat. 

“Your throat hurts? Damn. I’ll see if Sensei can make some of his sick tea. Here,” he trails off so he can unhook your phone from its charger, handing it over to you. “Text me until your throat feels better. Just tell me if you want anything to eat or anything, okay? I’ll be right back.” 

Thank the stars for this boy. You don’t know what you’d do without him. 

You immediately open your messaging app, thumbs zipping across the keyboard: 

You: can i pls have some medicine too 

You: i feel like i got hit by a truck 

Kai: u got it gorgeous 

Kai: sensei making tea rn, im bringing u medicine for now 

You: thank you sm 

Glad that he’s returning, you shut your phone off and set it on your chest as you close your eyes. 

Soon enough, Kai returns, bottle of water and medicine in hand along with his laptop cradled in his other arm. He sets it at the foot of the bed so that he can crack the bottle open. 

“Okay, can you sit up for me?” he questions, once again having a seat at the edge of your bed. 

You nod, shifting until you’re upright. Kai patiently waits for you to get comfortable, gently dumping two pills into your hands before giving you the bottle of water. “I know your throat hurts, but this will help lighten the nastiness up a little bit.” 

You down the pills with a gulp of water, cringing at the feeling of the pills sliding down your sore throat. 

“I know it hurts, babe, but it’ll help. Make sure you keep drinking water, too. You need to stay hydrated.” 

You nod, sighing through your stuffy nose. Kai climbs into bed next to you, reaching for the laptop. You open your phone again. 

You: don’t get close! I don’t want you to get sick too

Rather than sending it to him, you just turn the screen towards him so that he can read it. 

“Nah, I’m staying,” he replies. “I know it sucks to be alone when you’re sick. Besides, we haven’t had a whole lot of time together lately anyway. Let’s watch something, yeah?” 

You nod, understanding by the tone of his voice that his mind won’t be changed. 

“Great. So, what do you want to watch?” 

You type your answer out, followed by: 

But you get to pick the next one!! 

“Fine,” he replies with a chuckle. “Let me go check your tea first, though!” 

A hint of a smile appears on your lips as you watch him leave. How did you end up so lucky? 

While you wait for your boyfriend to return, you take another sip of water. The pain in your throat screeches in retaliation, though. Yeah, you should probably wait for the tea. Sensei Wu’s special tea always managed to help a little bit. 

Kai returns a few minutes later, your cup of tea in hand. He settles in next to you, handing you the mug. 

You sigh gratefully, taking a sip. The hot water does wonders to soothe your throat. 

“That’s better,” you mumble, leaning your head on Kai’s shoulder. “Thank you.” 

“Anything for you,” he replies, shooting you his adorably dumb smile. You can’t help but smile too, watching as he sets up the show and leans back. 

For a while, you simply lean against him, content that he’s staying with you for the time being. The warmth radiating from him wards the chilliness away, allowing you to flutter in and out of sleep as you rest. 

After your show ends, you feel Kai stirring from his spot beside you. You turn to him, watching as he starts to untangle himself from the sheets. 

You find yourself upset that he’s leaving, setting your mug to the side as you latch onto his arm. 

“Babe,” he coos, chuckling as he glances back down at you with those gorgeous amber eyes. “I’ll be right back, don’t worry.” 

“But I want you to stay...” you mumble shyly, not letting go. 

“It’ll be super quick. I’m just going to go grab a snack. And I can refill your mug, too!” 

You sigh, releasing his arm slightly. “Okay...thank you.” 

Kai presses a kiss to your forehead before climbing out of bed, a rush of cold air replacing his warmth. You reach over to your laptop so you can pause the video before laying your head back on your pillow. 

A few minutes pass, and you find yourself missing Kai. Why are you feeling so clingy today? Normally, you’re not like this, but for some reason, you just want to hide with him until you feel better. 

You grab your phone, sending him another text: 

kaiiiiiii 

where'd you go?? 

:( 

To your dismay, Kai doesn’t answer for a few minutes. Stars, why are you feeling so sensitive today? Is it just because being sick makes you feel vulnerable? 

Thankfully, Kai responds shortly after: 

im otw, sorry...got caught up talking to sensei 

He returns a few seconds later, now with snacks and a refilled mug of tea. “Sorry, Sensei was asking me a few questions. He’s letting me take the day off so I can take care of you.” 

“Good,” you croak, shifting around as he settles back in beside you. “I just...need you right now.” 

Kai smiles softly, pulling you against his chest as the two of you lean back. “You know...I hate that you’re sick, but at the same time...I kind of like this side of you.” 

“I don’t, but I can’t help it. When I get better, it’s straight back to the ass kicking. Yours included.” 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” Kai jokes. 

You sigh, too tired to return the banter. “Thank you for staying, Kai.” 

“Anything for you, babe. Get some rest.” 

With that, your eyelids grow heavy as you snuggle up to him, eventually letting yourself sleep for the day. 

𝚊/𝚗: 𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚊𝚐𝚘 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗. 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚘!

[iamthecomet]

Im dragging you into my very very normal ideas.

The way he’s looking up at her?!? The way she grabs his head??????? He’s the perfect height to eat her out. Maybe she’ll be against the wall with a leg over his shoulder. The usual.

THE SIZE COMET. THE FUCKING SIZE. I. FUCKING. CANT. Im a rabid dog

Im trying so hard not to imagine Swiss making her ride his face and she’s reluctant to fully sit, so he grips her hips so tightly and moves, rocking her over his own damn face. Just cause he can. Just cause he’s strong enough to.

(I really hope this is coherent. Im high as a kite rn. But I desperately needed to share this)

WAIT WAIT WAIT VEE I WROTE A FICLET LIKE THE BIT ABOUT HER BEING AGAINST A WALL WITH A LEG OVER HIS SHOULDER WAIT UHHH IT'S RIGHT HERE.

ANYWAY. I am fully obsessed with them, you are more than coherent. Everything makes sense. Swiss should really just grab her hips and yank her down onto his face. Hold her there. Suffocate himself in her cunt. Drag her around. Grind her clit over his nose. She doesn't have to do ANY WORK. Not ever. Swiss will take care of her over, and over, and over again. And she is NOT MOVING until he's done, he'll make sure of it.

[ottitty]

gender is so confusing. i think ? i want to be a boy but i’m not sure. is it okay if i want to be a boy or non binary trans masc and not transition ? like i would want to bind and maybe do a bit of T for voice purposes but i like being feminine and pretty. idk

I totally feel you, anon. Gender is confusing enough, but then theres gender presentation to navigate with the added pressure of society and your surroundings. Its hard enough to be trans, but to really separate yourself from not only the expectations that come with the sex you were assigned at birth, but also the expectations people have for being trans and gender conformity, feels sometimes impossible.

Heres the thing though: your transition is for nobody other than yourself. Transition comes in many levels: the social aspect, the medical aspect, even just in the smaller things of switching up the way you present, and there is no "universal endgoal" or "ultimate transition". Some people do the whole thing, they medically transition, they change their name legally and tell everybody "these are my pronouns". Others might not even tell people about their trans identity, might not seek any transition.

Transitioning is this... soup, and you gotta decide what you wanna put in it, y'know? I know a trans woman who doesn't want the surgeries, but is planning to go on estrogen when she's finally able. I know a man who's currently starting T and is doing all the consults, I know men who've gone on HRT but dont want top surgery or bottom surgery. There's nonbinary people who still love dressing "femininely"/"masculinely" regardless of their pronouns or agab or whatever.

Hell, a transition goal of mine is to be able to wear a skirt comfortably, to do makeup and have a beard. Some might not even change their name, some might bind so they can wear a dress or tuck so they can wear a suit.

Throughout all this, you don't owe anyone shit. You dont owe anyone, cis or trans, any sort of "conformity" to what they expect of you, because I can say two things with 100% certainty; 1) you are never gonna please everyone 2) it is absolutely none of their goddamn business what you do with your body, your gender, your presentation.

So, while you're navigating gender, transition, and all the wonderful things that come with it, make sure you're asking yourself what you want out of this, because that is what matters.

I think a really hard thing about navigating this stuff- for me, at least, and its entirely possible your experience is different- is that it feels really lonely trying to explore this stuff. Especially on tumblr, where there's all this pointless discourse on whether trans people are "deserving" of respect or transition, its really hard to figure out what you want when sometimes it feels like the world is telling you that no, you have to be this, but trust yourself.

Some people, when they delve into this, find that the way they see themselves, the way they identify and their wants out of transition change, and some people's views stay the same. Whatever way you go, remember that other people's opinions and however you may grow and change through this do not dictate the validity of your gender identity or experience.

You will always know yourself better than anyone else, you know what you want, you know who you are and your identity. There is not a person who gets to play "mind reader" and determine they know you better than that.

-

So, basically, tl;dr: thats perfectly valid, transition however the fuck you want, internet discourse trying to gatekeep joy from other people is stupid and doesn't determine who you are.

[beyondspaceandstars]

Around Your Neck

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, choking, metal arm kink, fingering, semi-public sex, slight hand and finger kink - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: Something sparks in you when you watch Bucky wrap his hand -- the metal hand -- around Zemo’s throat. A/N: I was gonna wait to publish this tomorrow but ya know what?? im too excited about it. it’s pretty well received on ao3 so i hope y’all enjoy! probably not the best smut ever written but i had fun writing it. this is a result of some late night imagination.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

It happened fast. You were sitting on the plane, watching the trio bicker, when the next thing you knew, Bucky’s hand was around Zemo’s throat. To make matters more intense, it was the metal one. While hidden under that glove and coat, just the thought of it, the realization hit…

While fully aware of the intensity and seriousness of the situation, you practically groaned at the action. You didn’t know what it was, but seeing that contrast of metal and skin, and the flex of his arm... You couldn’t help it as you let out a breathy gasp.

Bucky backed away then but not before giving you a side glance. You could tell he was fighting back a teasing smirk as he eyed you and your sudden tense state. To outsiders it may have seemed like you were scared by your boyfriend’s reaction, even Zemo looked a bit concerned, but you and Bucky knew. Knew the pillow talk and drunk confessions you’d made about the arm.

Your thighs clenched as you watched Bucky return to his seat. He still wore that hard expression, somehow turning you on even more. It was suddenly getting hot, you felt, squirming a bit in your sweater.


Why did you allow yourself in this position? When Bucky enlisted your help, citing your past as an agent, you had originally dismissed it. You’d never really worked with your boyfriend, having already been out of the scene before he came into your life. But those pleading eyes and soft touches won you over no matter what.

Little did you know, though, it’d lead to you being on the private jet of a terrorist, ridiculously turned on by your boyfriend’s metal arm.

You fumbled for your bottle of water, taking a big gulp.

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked as he broke off the conversation with the other two men. All of them faced you, waiting for a reply.

You nodded, placing your water bottle down. You turned directly to Bucky and met his furious eyes. “Just feeling a bit hot.”

He raised his brows as you felt the other men stare with confusion. The relationship wasn’t a secret by any means but the tone you two spoke with was certainly one reserved for other times.

"I think there’s a bathroom towards the back," Bucky nodded, motioning towards the end of the plane with his metal arm. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Zemo odd in confirmation. "If you need to cool down."

His simple movements sent a million little fires within you. The wetness between your thighs was getting harder to ignore, harder to play cool in front of the other men.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "Thank you, Bucky." You said his name with such slow ease, it was lighting something more in him, too. That’s when it really clicked.

You watched him as you rose from your seat. He glanced down, pretending to check something, trying to act as cool and collected as possible. For a former assassin, you thought, he wasn’t doing very well. He definitely knew. He got the little hint in your nod, in your tone. You figured he’d give it at most five minutes.

You made it to the airplane bathroom and squeezed your way in. Way smaller than you anticipated and you tried to figure how your super-soldier boyfriend was going to fit in here but he’d make it in. His arousal wouldn’t let him out of this.

You stood in front of the mirror, faux fixing your make-up and splashing water to kill time when the knock on the door came. Bucky hadn’t even given it a full minute before he was hot on your heels.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his urgency as you unlocked the door.

"You know they totally know what’s going on in here," you whispered as Bucky just barely fit himself inside the tiny bathroom. In one full motion, he locked the door then picked you up by the waist, setting you on the makeshift bathroom counter. You let out another giggle of surprise by his smoothness.

His arms were around your waist, pulling himself into your body, so eager and urgent. The gloves were long gone you realizes as you gasped at the feeling of the metal arm teasingly making its way under your sweater. His grip on you were tight.

"Do you think I care if they know?" Bucky mumbled as he began attacking your neck with kisses. He nipped and licked at your skin making you let out little squeals. Oh yeah, there was no way no one knew what was happening here but you didn’t have it in your heart to care anymore. You were practically dripping in your jeans and it was like Bucky could tell.

In an attempt to move closer, his thigh came up to your core, pressing, rubbing. You moved with it, letting the motions ease some of the burning in you.

Bucky continued the assault on your neck as you let out a desperate moan. "Could we please at least hurry so it’s not as weird when we go back out there?"

Your boyfriend chuckled, almost darkly, as he removed his lips from your neck. He began working up until his lips were finally on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, now taking your chance to pull him in. Bucky didn’t seem to mind your eagerness as he once again nudged your core with his thigh. The moans you gave out at that… Bucky felt captivated and you could feel it in his kiss.

Reluctantly disconnecting, he mumbled, "I don’t think I want to hurry anything, doll." He gave another peck. "Might want to stay here and spend hours between those thighs."

"Bucky-," you gasped.

"But that’s not what you’re here for, right?" He chuckled, his metal arm on your bare back. It came around to your side slowly, inching upward to your lace-covered breasts. "It’s the arm that got you all bothered."

You groaned as he then began to drag the hand back down your side, dipping just a finger below the waist of your jeans. The coolness barely skimmed over your hip but you were thrilled. It was a riveting contrast to the warmth that had been building over you since Bucky decided to choke someone right in front of you.

"It just looked g-good," you were getting breathy trying to formulate words. But everything was escaping you. As you tried formulating coherent sentences, Bucky began popping the buttons of your jeans then slowly tugging down the zipper. You gulped at the actions.

"Yeah?" Bucky chuckled, halting his actions. "How do you think my hand would look wrapped around your neck?"

Your brain starting spinning. You hated and loved when you got in this drunk state for him and he apparently was amused too as he gave you no time to answer. Bucky backed off a bit, as far as he really could, removing his touch entirely. You leaned back on the counter, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Turn around," he demanded.

The lightbulb went off in your head at his words. With a coy smirk, you hopped down from the counter and turned, your ass just brushing over his front. He was already ridiculously hard and apparently not amused with your sudden teasing. Without warning, Bucky grabbed your hips and forced you around completely. He made you plant your hands on the counter, giving you a clear view of yourself in the small airplane bathroom mirror. It surely wasn’t a full-fledge mirror but gave you just enough to see your neck, which you could already imagine how it was going to look with Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around it.

Apparently abandoning his threat of taking his time, Bucky pulled down your jeans and panties in one swift, sudden motion. You gasped at the action, feeling the material practically burn your thighs as it went.

Bucky was over any more teasing and talk as his metal hand promptly came up to your neck. It wrapped around, just tight enough to make you groan at the pressure. It felt so heavy and secure. Like it belonged there. You swore you got wetter at the sight.

Your eyes caught Bucky’s in the mirror. His didn’t hid how aroused, intrigued, he was at the sight before him. His eyes never left yours as his other hand made its way down your body, slipping right to your core where it found the bundle of nerves begging for attention. He gave it some attention before moving to dip a finger in you. Bucky groaned in your ear at the wetness that met his skin.

He pumped the one finger in and out slowly but surely as he whispered in your ear, "So wet." Another pump. "Looking so pretty, doll."

Your eyes started drifting close at the sensations Bucky was working over your body. Between the tightness on your neck to the pumping finger to your clit that brushed a bit over the counter, you were losing it.

Bucky, apparently, didn’t like you getting too comfortable. Without any warning, he pulled his finger out and undid his pants. Before you could register anything happening around you, he plunged his cock into you, lunging you forward on the counter. Your eyes snapped open. You were greeted by your boyfriend’s intense expression once again.

You barely registered the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were wide and that metal hand was not letting up on your neck. You could barely choke out any moans but it all felt so good, so right.

Satisfied that he had your attention, Bucky began thrusting in and out of you, pushing you more into the counter now, your arms barely holding up. He slipped in and out of you with such ease it was almost embarrassing. The only sounds prevalent for a bit in the room were the squelching between your thighs and the light grunts Bucky let out.

"How’s that?" Bucky asked between thrusts. Your legs were going to give out if he even began to talk. And as if he knew that fact, he continued. "Is this what you wanted, doll? My hand wrapped around your neck while I pounded into this sweet, tight pussy?"

You could only let out a weak moan in response which pleased him greatly. So much so, the thrusting picked up and the hand got tighter. Shocking you, your legs began to tremble. Bucky must’ve sensed it as his other hand came to grasp your waist tightly.

"I got you, doll," he whispered in your ear, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. The contrast between that and his not-so-sweet motions nearly had you climaxing right then and there. "Got you so drunk on this cock you can barely stand, huh?"

You gave a breath moan, "B-Bucky-,"

He continued pounding as he spoke, seeming like the world’s greatest multitasker. Well, you figured, those assassins gotta be fast on their feet.

"What’s wrong?" Bucky mocked. "You close?"

You nodded profusely, watching your boyfriend in the mirror as he turned back towards it, your eyes meeting. He looked so blown out, in a primal state, as he kept working in and out of you.

Slowly, Bucky’s hand left your waist and sneaked down to your clit. He gave it a quick press that made you yelp. Bucky chuckled, amused by your responsiveness. It didn’t make him falter as he pressed again, this time running tight circles on your clit. The pressure and motion were making you lose your mind.

Bucky must’ve greatly enjoyed the sight as his metal hand got slightly tighter. You couldn’t do it — didn’t know how you managed it until now — but your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm built and built and built—

He sped up the motions on your clit, accompanied by even more powerful thrusts. Your arms gave out, overwhelmed, sending you forward on the counter. Bucky went with, pressing his body fully into yours. His hand never left your throat. His thrusts never hesitating.

"That’s it, doll," he whispered and you could practically hear the cocky smile on his lips. "Cum for me."

And you did. It took nothing else. Your orgasm rushed through you, sending sparks and waves across your body. Bucky never once let up as he simultaneously chased his own while working you through yours.

"Bucky…" you mumbled as your legs shook, your orgasm rushing warmth throughout your body.

His motions and thrusting weren’t letting up, sending you into an overstimulated state. You clenched on his cock at the sensation. Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. With a tight grip still on you and a desperate moan on his lips, he came inside, soaking your walls, letting it drip to your thighs.

His movements got weak and sloppy as he worked through his orgasm. You couldn’t even handle it anymore and pushed his hand from your clit, earning an amused chuckle from your boyfriend.

He gave one more quick thrust before pulling out of you, watching as his seed slowly leaked out of your swollen hole. He had half the nerve to get on his knees to clean you up but figured that was the last thing you wanted in your overwhelmed, dazed state.

Instead, he was a good boyfriend and began cleaning you up with some hand towels from a rack. You shivered as the fabric came into contact with your thighs. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky who pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

Once cleaned, you finally found your balance again. You pulled up your panties and jeans then looked back into the mirror. You saw Bucky working to readjust himself in his jeans but what really caught your attention was the redness. Your neck had the faintest yet noticeable glow of red from his hand. You gasped, lightly running your hands over it.

Bucky whipped his head towards you, suddenly noticing the redness left on your skin from his grip. His heart nearly stopped until he saw the pure delight, satisfaction, in your eyes.

"Was that okay?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. You two watched each other in the mirror, this time in a much softer, sweeter position than before.

You nodded, "It was wonderful."

Bucky grinned and placed a kiss upon your lips. You melted into it, half wanting to go another round. But Bucky forced you two to disconnect.

"We should get back out there," he said.

You frowned. "What happened to spending hours between my thighs?"

"You little minx," Bucky groaned, his hands coming up to tickle your sides. You let out a squeal.

"We really have to face them, huh?"

Bucky went to answer but was cut off by Sam suddenly yelling from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yes, you do!" He called out, anger and annoyance dripping from his words.

You two met each other’s stare as if hoping for one to suggest a way out of this mess but coming up empty, you just gave a sigh and pushed out of Bucky’s arms. Shamefully, you unlocked the door and opened it, trying to prepare mentally for how you were ever going to face Sam again.

"Sorry, Sam," you mumbled, slipping your way around him back to your seat, avoiding his gaze all cost. Bucky followed behind, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

"On a plane? Really?" Sam asked in disbelief. "While people are sitting right here?" You gave a quick glance to Zemo who truthfully didn’t look bothered by the situation. Your stomach turned at the idea of what else was taking place on this plane.

"Maybe you’re just jealous," Bucky finally spoke as he got comfortable again in his seat. Sam still stood in the aisle, hands on his hips, shocked by Bucky’s suggestion.

"Jealous?"  

Bucky shrugged. "I got to bang my very hot girlfriend on a plane. I think you’re jealous."

You groaned at his words, trying to hide your face in your hands. You could hear Bucky’s light chuckles, practically dismissing the situation, which did not please Sam.

"Who thinks it’s okay to bang their girlfriend when other people are right on the other side of the door?" Sam asked.

"Look, Sam," Bucky turned his head towards him, that teasing grin playing at his lips. "When it’s game time, it’s game time."

His words earned a chorus of disgusted groans and protest from the entire group. Your face was hot, probably entirely flushed, as red as your neck if you had to guess. You tried reprimanding Bucky for his ridiculous innuendos — something he didn’t quite understand as he tried defending his statement to the group. No one was buying it.

"Alright," you finally said, halting the conversation. "That’s enough. Can we please no longer talk about this? I think we get it, we got a bit carried away."

Zemo, however, didn’t think it was enough. He decided to add his two cents to the conversation by asking, "And what exactly inspired you to get carried away?"

Zemo didn’t even try to hide it as his eyes glanced down to Bucky’s metal arm. Sam observed, his eyes suddenly getting wide as he put two and two together, causing him to share even more disgust towards you two. Bucky took it all, laughing like it was the greatest joke of all time. You, on the other hand, hid your face once more, praying your seat would just swallow you whole. It sent them into another bicker of conversation.

No one was ever going to let you live it down.

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ❥ req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[jingerhead]

ooh ooh ooh

28 and renison jbsjfjgvadfahd

yeah ok bye

THIS GOT LOST IN MY INBOX IM SO SORRY, I'm finally here to answer this one!! Urg you're so right with this one, I was going to go a different direction with it but uh this is what we ended up with instead PF. It's pretty short and sweet but I hope you enjoy anon! Little warning for random guy that doesn't take 'no' for an answer here.

28 - haha don't roll up your sleeves and tie up your hair our relationship is so platonic rn haha

The thing is, Allison has always been aware of her bisexuality. Comfortable in it, in fact. The reason she had only dated men in the past wasn’t a matter of ‘liking’ one gender over the other, Allison just enjoyed the thrill of dating, from casual to serious. She also knew that her appearance didn’t immediately scream ‘I’M BISEXUAL!’ to everyone around, but it wasn’t her goal to look that way. She wanted to dress the way she wanted to, date whoever she wanted to, and enjoy life to the fullest now that she had the opportunity to.

Therefore, Allison wasn’t blind. Renee was attractive, her pastel hair was cute, all the little mannerisms Allison had been able to witness due to them sharing a dorm room over the years had grown endearing. But there wasn’t anything else there, just that base attraction that told Allison she wouldn’t mind kissing Renee if the other was up to it. 

That's what she told herself. She was now starting to think that might not be completely true.

This entire situation had started with a bad date. A really bad date that Allison should’ve never gone on, but she had been feeling annoyed enough that she’d allowed the random guy from her math class to take her to a bar, where she’d gotten a bit drunk, but not that drunk. Not wasted enough to pity fuck this guy that clearly wanted it. Coherent enough to tell him ‘no’ repeatedly and to get scared when he kept pushing. 

The whole thing got even worse because he barely would walk away for a second, as though making sure she wouldn’t try to sneak away. Allison had also stupidly accepted a ride from him to the bar, not wanting to walk that distance, but had completely forgotten this could be a possibility. She was intoxicated, didn’t want to walk all the way back to campus alone in the dark, and couldn’t sneak away with this guy so close.

Allison had royally fucked up.

She knew she needed help, so the moment the guy had gone back to the bar to grab more drinks, she whipped out her phone and tried to think of who to contact. Matt would come in an instant, but he and Dan had diven north for the weekend, so the only person left in Allison’s contacts was Renee. She sent a quick ‘SOS’ with the address to the bar, put her phone away, and tried to smile at the guy when he came back with a tray of shots.

She was not doing shots tonight. “I think I’ve had enough,” she said, twirling a piece of hair around her finger. It took a lot of self control to keep from glancing towards the doors in anticipation of Renee’s arrival. “Don’t want a hangover, I’m going out to brunch tomorrow.”

Don’t drink too much, insinuate there are people waiting for you, expecting you, that you have to leave early…

“With who?” the guy asked - his name was definitely something that started with an ‘E’, but Allison hadn’t bothered to remember and didn’t want to ask now. His eyes narrowed as though suspicious, and seriously? Could this be any more disgusting?

“My girlfriends,” Allison said easily.

The guy visibly relaxed. “Just one, then?” he asked, grabbing a shot and raising it as though in a toast. 

“No,” Allison said, as firmly as she could. “I hate shots,” she added.

“That’s not what you said last Thursday,” the guy accused.

Well, as if the night couldn’t get any creepier. “I said ‘no’,” Allison snapped. She shifted in her chair to try to get up, to maybe meet Renee outside the bar so they could go back to their dorm together, but the guy suddenly shifted his chair until he was right next to Allison, blocking her off from easily getting up and walking away. Her hand itched to grab the pepper spray in her purse, but spraying him at this close of a distance would only blind her as well, so there wasn’t much point to using it. She was definitely getting a taser after this.

“Just one, please?” the guy asked, pushing a shot glass into the hand Allison had left open on the table. “For me?”

The move had caught her off guard, had made her freeze and feel like throwing up, so for a few seconds Allison didn’t say anything at all. She was just about to try throwing the tequila at the guy’s face when someone approached their table, prompting them both to look up. Allison had never been more relieved to see Renee in her life, she was sure, immediately feeling more at ease. Renee was wearing black pants, a white button-up shirt and a cute pink vest over the top, her cross necklace standing out against the pink she wore. Though she was smiling kindly, there was a sharpness to her lips that Allison had never seen before, aimed at her date.

“Hey,” Renee greeted, her voice soft and sweet. “Allison, you told me to cut you off at midnight.”

“Yeah,” Allison said, standing up. “Thanks.”

The guy didn’t move his chair, still blocking Allison in. “Seriously?” he spat, looking from one girl to the other. “You called your friend?”

Allison started to take in a deep breath, because now this was fucking dangerous. Everyone else in the bar wasn’t paying attention to them, this guy wouldn’t move so Allison could leave, and he looked mad that Renee had shown up at all. She’d started getting a bad feeling in her gut long ago, but now it had grown tenfold. Allison started to slowly open her purse to grab her pepper spray, but froze when Renee quickly exchanged a look with her.

It was almost scary. And Renee wasn’t scary.

“Allison wanted to be home early tonight,” she said, legs spreading until her feet were shoulder-width apart, arms raising to cross over her chest. “Let her go.”

No beating around the bush. No pretending this wasn’t what it really was. Allison couldn’t look away from Renee, some sort of savior that responded immediately to an ‘SOS’ text, who saw the danger and was going to get Allison out. She had no doubts about that whatsoever, and though Allison’s heart still beat wildly in her chest, she waited.

“No, see, this is the problem nowadays!” the guy practically whined. “All you bitches want are guys that will hurt you and use you, and when someone like me gets a chance, it’s just ruined! What the fuck do you girls want then, huh? Should I treat you like shit as well, will that do it?”

Renee’s sweet smile was still there, but that edge to it was getting sharper with every word spat out of the guy’s mouth. Very slowly, Renee uncrossed her arms and reached for the cuffs of her white button-up, and then Allison’s eyes widened when she watched Renee start to roll her sleeves up. She did it very neatly and almost daintily, using her index finger and thumb to create neat rolls up to her elbows, not taking her eyes off of the guy for a single second.

Allison’s heart started to beat faster for a very different reason.

“Let her go,” Renee repeated.

“Or what?” the guy tried to sneer. Though he tried to come across as scary, he paled in comparison to Renee.

“I’ve asked you twice now, that’s two more times than I usually ask,” Renee said. She stepped forward and kicked the chair the guy was in, catching it by the back when it tipped. The guy immediately snapped his mouth shut, eyes wide as he stared at Renee in clear worry. “You either move yourself, or I move you. This isn’t a warning.”

It was almost pitiful to see how quickly the guy crumpled, his chair falling over the moment Renee let go. Once there was enough space, Allison rushed away from the table, standing behind Renee who watched the guy on the ground slowly roll to his hands and knees with a groan. People in the bar had finally started to look over, the chatter quieting quickly. Renee didn’t move, almost as though she was waiting to see what the guy would do, but neither of the girls had to worry. He got to his feet and ran towards the bathrooms without looking back.

With him gone, Allison finally relaxed, waiting for Renee to start walking to follow her out of the bar. In the parking lot was the monster’s car, which Renee headed over to without a second thought. Allison was almost worried he’d be around, but if there was anyone Andrew would let drive his car without question, it had to be either Neil or Renee. She unlocked the car with a click of the keys, settling into the driver’s seat as Allison got into the passenger’s.

“Thank you,” Allison immediately said once they were locked in the car, finally feeling like she could breathe. “Sorry about - “

“Don’t be,” Renee interrupted. She started the engine, glancing over her shoulder to back out of the parking lot. Allison looked over, eyes immediately catching on the fact that Renee’s sleeves were still rolled up. She bit her lip, watching the way Renee’s hands moved on the wheel for a moment, then quickly shook herself out of her stupor and glanced ahead as Renee started to drive them home.

“Shouldn’t have drank too much,” she whispered. “Or let him get that close. Or had even agreed to go on the date in the first place. Just…I did it all wrong.”

Renee let her talk, sitting up straight in her seat, eyes not budging from the road ahead. “You shouldn’t have had to worry about any of that in the first place,” she finally said. When they reached a red light, she glanced Allison’s way, her smile not quite matching the look still in her eyes. “I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

Oh.

Allison picked at her press-on fingernails, looking at anything that wasn’t the other girl beside her. They drove in silence for a few seconds while Allison gathered her courage to speak again. “You know self defense, right? Can you teach me a few moves?”

[cherriesfineline]

savior next door

im on a writing trance so expect a lot of writings from me hehe, here's what i wrote last night, enjoy besties.

- fluff & a tiny little bit of smut (not really lol) | not proofread, sorry

Pairing: HarryxY/N

WC: 3.8k

the one where Harry is Y/N's shy and virgin neighbor.

The constant feeling of uneasiness has been haunting Harry ever since he almost got himself in a car accident almost a year ago.

It hadn’t been his fault – he was crossing a random street in a quiet area of New York when a hand grabbed his upper arm and pushed him out of the crosswalk, where a car speeded through without even slowing down. “Watch where you’re going, you’re going to get yourself killed.” The woman who’d saved his life scolded at him with a worrying look on her face. He remembers her eyes were glowing in such a splendor, something he’d never seen before – it intrigued him to know who his life savior was, but before he could even make a comment, the woman stormed off and got lost between the seas of people around the corner, leaving Harry in an unsuccessful search for her.

Harry has never been a people person. He always avoids big crowds, social events and especially, study groups. His university journey so far has been a lonely and reserved one, having movie marathons when not studying or discovering new kinds of herbal teas. His only form of social interaction is the occasional chat with his across-the-hall neighbor Niall, whom he considered -kind of- a close friend; his only one, in fact.

“Heard someone’s moving in to the flat next to yours.” Niall knows Harry isn’t exactly a social butterfly, and maybe it’s the fact that Harry is younger than him and how he seems like such a harmless human what makes him feel like he needs to help him. Harry just shrugs at his comment, not really interested in any possible intruder to their peaceful hallway (where both their apartments and the currently empty one in the corner were the only three ones on their floor). And maybe it was the fact that it has been almost a month since Niall’s comment what made him furious when he saw the cardboard boxes on their hallway, forgetting about the possibility of having a new neighbor.

The sudden sound of glass crashing and a loud yell snaps Harry out of his frustrated trance, stepping around the huge boxes scattered around the door next to his to knock on the doorway of the open door. Even if he really isn’t very fond of having a new neighbor that doesn’t mean he’s not going to check on them to see if they’ve gotten hurt. “Is everything alright?” He still can’t see whoever is inside, but he decides on waiting if no one replies to step inside. But he doesn’t need to, because as he was about to make his way inside, a head pops up from one side of the entry hallway, assuming that’s where the kitchen is, as he notices the apartment is a replica of his own, but inverted.

“Hey, sorry, just dropped my favorite cup.” His breath gets caught on his throat when her life savior’s face appears in sight, the cutest frown adorning her features and her sweet voice resonating through his brain. Her eyes, exactly like he remembers shine with an unbeatable glow, like a thousand diamonds under a microscope, but the image he had of her on his brain doesn’t make her justice – she is even more beautiful than he remembers. “I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. You live in this floor?” Harry can’t help but be disappointed at the fact that apparently she doesn’t remember him.

“Y-yes, next door. H-harry.” He stutters. Her presence just makes him so nervous, he can’t help it. She is probably one of, if not the, most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. Her eyes are hypnotizing, the softness of them which appears to be constant warms his insides and he thinks he could spend hours upon hours staring right at them.

“Do I know you? I feel like I know you.” Y/N’s thinks out loud, her expression alluding to her thoughts trying to place him somewhere in her memories.

“Uh, I- I don’t think so?” Harry feels embarrassed, so he couldn’t come up with a better answer. He is silently hoping she doesn’t remember the time they met all that time ago – this is his chance, he thinks, to redeem himself, for her to see him as a normal dude instead of this clumsy and shy boy who couldn’t even thank her when she saved him from being ran over by a car.

He wishes he could read her mind. What’s her first impression on him? Does she think he’s cute? She probably doesn’t. He thinks she’s too pretty to even spare a second glance at someone like him; a shy boy with bad posture and still breaking out in his forehead despite being 22. And she, Y/N, a woman who could make anyone her own, a woman who probably makes every head turn her way when entering a room. Harry feels his chest deflate as his thoughts start beating him up.

During the course of her first two months living next door, Y/N and Harry barely interact. He keeps stealing glances her way whenever they run into each other in the hallway, getting shy and cheeks reddening when she catches him every time. He gets jealous whenever he hears her walking down the hallway from inside his apartment, obvious guests coming in and out of her apartment – and if the person (because he recalls hearing both men and women) is good enough, he can even hear her sometimes through the thin wall that divides their bedrooms, her headboard clearly mirroring his. He feels dirty and intrusive during nights like these, so he opts on putting headphones on, music playing in his phone to help him drift off to sleep.

But Y/N is fascinated by him, maybe not as much as he is with her, but enough to wonder how it’d be like to reallyhave him in her life. She knows he’s a very reserved man, her animated chats with Niall more usual than not drift towards Harry and how she wishes he’d just keep looking at her when she catches his eye instead of running away – not because her ego is enormous or anything, but she is aware of the obvious crush Harry has on her. “He’s not going to start conversation, you should just go for it.” She remembers Niall told her one night after having a small chat in his threshold; because all Niall wants is for Harry to put himself out there, but he knows he needs a little extra push.

But it all changes one night. A night Y/N drinks more than usual – shot after shot going down her throat making her feel nothing but dizzy, the sensation of puke going up her throat forcing her to call it a night. Barely making it out of the elevator she stumbles on her way to her door, and Harry hears her. The sound her combat books make is so engraved in Harry’s brain he knows it’s her after just a couple of steps.

“Fuck.” Harry hears the unmistakable sound of her keys, and how she’s clearly struggling to fit them inside the lock. After a loud banging sound and what sounds like her sliding down the door, he starts worrying about her and how she’s probably not going to make it inside her apartment without a little help. So he steps outside after sliding his old white vans on to find her on the floor leaning against her door, legs bent and elbows resting on either knee supporting her head.

“Y/N?” He calls her in a whisper. She shoots her head up immediately making her insides turn, and with unfocused eyes, she looks up at him and smiles fondly.

“Hey, pretty boy.” She greets him with a soft smile, eyes closing and opening again slowly and Harry feels his stomach erupt in a thousand butterflies. Did she just call him pretty boy?

“You need help?”

“Please.” Harry’s red cheeks don’t go unnoticed by her the moment she lifts her hand to give him her keys and she honestly thinks he might explode. He helps her get up and guides her inside her home with such gentle movements she could melt in his hold, and that’s when she decides (drunk out of her mind) she wants him to hold her again, soon. And while sober.

He lays her down in her bed and announces he’s going to take her shoes off, giving her enough time to object. “I always catch you staring, you know?” Her thoughts slip off her lips unannounced, but she doesn’t really care. Harry, on the other hand, freezes in his spot, one of her shoes still in hand and with wide eyes he connects their gazes for the second time that night.

“I- I… I’m sorry- I don’t mean to be c-creepy or anything I j-just-“

“Shh.” She cuts him off, his stuttering making its first appearance of the night. “Didn’t say I don’t like it.” She confesses and wiggles her feet so he can resume his actions. Harry’s brain is betraying him more than usual right now. His thoughts are everywhere, not a single coherent answer coming to mind, so he doesn’t do anything but finish helping her out of her shoes in silence.

“Goodn-night, Y/N.” Harry left her apartment that night after carefully placing a soft blanket over her body and making sure she had a glass of water on her nightstand (he didn’t want to snoop around her apartment for some pills for her hangover, so he just left her with the duty of doing that herself in the morning) and laid in bed with so many thoughts running through his head he barely got an hour of sleep that night.

And that went on for a week. Knowing she was sleeping on the other side of the wall makes him more nervous than before now that he knows Y/N is aware of his constant staring – but who would blame him? She really is a sight for sore eyes. Y/N knocks on his door the following Saturday, and he opens it surprised to find her on the other side, mainly because she’s usually out with her friends by now every Saturday (not that he’s constantly waiting to hear her walk on their hallway, but he truly is always sitting on his living room and the thin walls of their apartment complex don’t provide them much privacy).

“Harry, hi.” She offers him the sweetest smile, but there’s a shy and nervous undertone to it this time. “I just wanted to thank you, for helping me the other night.” She clasps her hands together in front of her and nods with a tight lipped smile. “But I also want to apologize, I know I probably made you uncomfortable with uh, some comments I made.” She slightly scrunches her nose, waiting for his reply.

But Harry is, in simple words, speechless. He can’t believe there’s a sober Y/N who just knocked on his door willingly talking to him. Her voice sounds so melodic and Harry just wants to cuddle her and the giant, soft looking green sweater she’s wearing isn’t helping him ease his thoughts. He wants Y/N to hold him while she talks to him with that sweet voice of hers, he wants to hold her small hands and fill her cheeks and mouth with kisses along with every inch of her body -not that she’d ever let him, Harry thought, but a boy can dream-, but most importantly, he wants to learn every single detail about her. How she likes her coffee in the mornings, or if she prefers tea. In which position she sleeps the most comfortable in and if there’s any TV shows she re-watches just because it brings her comfort. He has so many questions he wants to ask her he completely forgets they’d been standing in his threshold for long minutes, with him just staring at her.

“It’s ok, don’t worry.” He says barely above a whisper, and they stay in their positions for a while, again with no words spoken between them, until he finally gains enough courage to ask, “Do you want to come in?” He opens his door a bit wider with a wary look on his face. Y/N nods, her smile widens and makes her eyes sparkle with that glow Harry is still fascinated by.

They sit in the couch with a long distance between them; farther away from the other than any of them like. Y/N does most of the talking, but she truly doesn’t mind – she talks animatedly about this new show Bridgerton she binge watched last night, Harry making mental notes about most things she says. He wants to remember everything, from the way her voice slightly sharpens when she mentions something she suddenly remembers to the way she moves her hands to accompany her speech; he already loves how expressive she is with her face features, and only confirms how he’d listen to her speak for the rest of his life.

Y/N manages to get more words out of him than she expected, and asks for his opinion or thoughts on most things she mentions. She hates making conversation purely about herself, she wants to know about Harry as much as she can. She wishes he would initiate conversation or switch topics with no shame, but she knows she’s asking for too much. This night alone they interacted more than the last three months combined, and Y/N is grateful for it.

Three chapters of FRIENDS had passed when she finds herself scooting a bit closer to him, carefully trying to read his body language. When he stiffens in his position, she turns her head to look at him. His cheeks are tinted a cute shade of pink, and he’s blinking a lot more than he usually does. He places both hands on his thighs and runs them up and down to get rid of the sweat accumulating on them, and he can’t help but gasp when their thighs touch, meaning she scooted even closer. As if that isn’t enough to kill him, she softly rests her head on his shoulder.

“Is this ok?” Y/N whispers, and he forces himself to turn his head to find her eyes, which are already looking up at him. He slowly nods and makes the dumb mistake of looking down at her lips. He feels the hot embarrassment run up his neck and quickly turns to face his TV again, planning on pretending nothing ever happened.

That is, until he feels the soft skin of her palm and gentle fingers grab his jaw, forcing his gaze back on her. That touch alone makes him feel more than any other human has made him feel in his entire life – but it doesn’t compare to the eruption of jitteriness washing through him when her eyes look down at his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” Harry freezes in his spot. He wonders if he heard her correctly, not believing his senses when around her, the possibility of her wanting to kiss him are too low, he thinks, and when he doesn’t respond, she slowly begins to remove her hand from his face, taking a guess on his unspoken rejection. He, for once, reacts quickly enough; he grabs her by her wrist, placing her hand back again in its spot on his jaw, and works enough courage to just go for it. Harry lowers his face to gently envelope her top lip between his own. It’s quick but sweet (just like she had expected their first kiss to be, if she’d ever got lucky enough to experience it) and when he moves away just enough to separate her lips, she wastes no time in connecting them again. This time, the kiss is longer and with more determination than before, and when Harry feels Y/N melt into him, he gains enough confidence to grab her face with both of his hands, deepening the kiss.

They stay enveloped in each other for a while, mouths molding and moving in sync with so many unspoken emotions it feels overwhelming for both – they barely know each other, they’re very aware of it, but the undeniable infatuation they both feel is stronger than they’d ever admit. Y/N feels on her face the long exhale that leaves through Harry’s nose when she softly traces his bottom lip with the tip of her tongue, and when he meets her tongue with his, the mood that was settled between them switches drastically – from sweet and innocent to needy and passionate.

Harry isn’t very experienced with kissing, let alone with anything past first base. He’d only made out with a girl all the way back in high school during his senior prom, and the girl was so harsh and desperate Harry knew that moment he wouldn’t ever share an intimate moment with anyone again unless he truly felt something for them. Now, he knows it might seem like he’s rushing things in his heart, but he’d do anything with and for Y/N – but he knows he’s not ready just yet.

His nervousness consumes him again when she moves to straddle his lap, making him whimper at the new position. He shakily places his hands next to her legs on the couch, not sure what is too much and what is ok to do. She runs her hands from his jaw down to his shoulders, and moves them all the way down his arms to his hands, giving them a soft squeeze before placing them on her waist and sliding her own back up again towards his neck, never breaking the kiss.

He unintentionally lets a second whimper leave his mouth when she sits herself down on his lap, creating some friction between their groins. He knows he’s hard – he felt his dick grow in his pants the second she touched his jaw, but knowing Y/N could feel it now put him a tad on edge. He separates their lips; their agitated breathing mixing in between them.

“I- I’ve never…” Harry begins, but he’s having a hard time finding the correct words. Y/N understands almost immediately – she’s not proud to admit she had figured he was unexperienced, feeding the stereotype of shy-ergo-virgin, even though she was correct this time.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to,” Y/N gives him a soft peck and continues, “you can say no, but I’d love to make you feel good, if you’d let me. We can keep our clothes on.” Y/N suggests. If she has to be honest, she hasn’t dry-humped anyone since high school, but the thought of doing it with Harry lights her insides in animalistic flames.

When Harry timidly nods, she shakes her head with her eyebrows raised in a disapproving look, “Use your words, H.”

“I- I want you to- to do it. I- I trust you.” His stuttering makes Y/N’s insides warm, the fact that she makes him nervous amuses her – she’s certain she’s never made anyone this nervous before, but it is the fact that Harry admitted he trusts her what sends shivers down her spine. All she does in response is roll her hips against his – and when he closes his eyes with a pleasured groan leaving his lips, she does it again. Harry’s grip on her waist lowers to her hips, squeezing the flesh that was subtly beginning to get exposed from all the movement, and when he throws his head back Y/N takes advantage of his exposed neck to finally attach her lips to it. Her hold on one side of his face moves to grip his jaw, turning his head slightly to the side so she can suck on the sweet spot behind his ear still rolling her hips on his, and when she pokes the spot with her tongue to soothe the pleasuring sting, he unconsciously thrusts his hips up to meet hers; Y/N can’t help but smile and leave a trail of sweet, wet kisses from his new deepening bruise to the place where his neck meets his shoulders, repeating her actions there to leave a second bruise.

Harry feels his cock twitch in his pants when Y/N rolls her hips with more pressure, and they both know he’s close - his inexperience making him not last longer than a couple of minutes. “Are you going to cum for me?” Y/N asks him, holding his jaw tightly to keep his gaze on hers, and when he shyly nods she adds, “I want you to look at me when you do it.”

Harry can’t believe what’s going on – he has the most beautiful woman in the word on top of him about to make him cum, and he’s sure he’s going to come so hard he’ll probably have to throw his briefs into the trash. Her gaze staring so intensely into his eyes is what makes his insides finally explode, his eyes seeing white for a moment – with his mouth open ajar and glossy eyes he feels the large amount of cum spurting from his cock, making a mess inside his pants. The pleasure and fullness he feels during this moment is something he has never experienced before, never thinking he would surrender this fast over someone else’s actions. Y/N slows her movements but doesn’t stop for a while, allowing him to empty his insides until he hisses at the friction. Harry hugs her lower back to pull her closer to him, and Y/N lets her head drop to his shoulder so they can both catch their breaths.

They stay like that for a while, hugging each other with Y/N running her hand softly through his chocolate curls and Harry tracing small circles on the small of her back.

“You saved me from a car accident, a year or so ago.” Harry confesses – the pure bliss he’s feeling makes him dizzy and unaware of his words.

“I know. I remember.” Y/N confesses herself, and when Harry’s soft caresses stop at her back, she removes her head from the warm spot on his neck to look at him in the eyes, finding a confused frown in his eyebrows and lips in a small pout – she kisses him soft and quickly, not being able to contain herself. “I figured you either didn’t remember or didn’t bring it up for a reason, so I chose to not mention it.” She shudders and gives him a soft smile.

“Was embarrassed, still am.” Harry whispers with red cheeks, and Y/N’s laugh resonates through his living room, and if he wasn’t already obsessed with her, her laugh completes his way there.

“So cute.” She pecks his lips. “Can’t believe it took us this long to… talk.” Another peck. A knowing look on her face knowing damn well they did more than talking.

“You are too pretty. And intimidating. Can’t even walk in front of you without tripping over my own feet.” Y/N giggles at his confession, finding him even more amusing.

“Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?” Y/N asked, not being able to wait another day to ask. Harry feels his cheeks hurting from all the smiling, but he is too content in this moment.

“I’d love to.”

x

As always, feedback is truly appreciated,

love, Joey.

[scribblemetae]

Mine | Taehyung smut Drabble.

I know this is way late but I wasn’t actually going to continue these as they didn’t seem to be as liked as my other works but Ive got over that and im back to writing them again because I just enjoy it. I hope you had a good few days at work though!! :) and here you go!! :) Movies - “Your mine. This- is mine, so don’t you dare think of someone else.”

Genre: Smut, not as much yandere as usual but I think you’ll get where its going when you read it. Words: 800

You’ve never single handily regretted and applauded something you’ve said the way you did right now. 

Taehyungs hand was tightening around your neck as his other traced down your body pushing into your jeans. He had a fire in his eyes that you hadn’t ever seen before. 

“Look me in the eyes and say that again, I dare you”

You weren’t willing to back down now. He didn’t own you, he’d spent so much time telling you that you guys were only ever going to be fuck buddies that it was becoming aggravating. Neither of you slept with other people, you went on dates regularly and spent all your time together. Why was he so against the idea of being with you. You really wanted to push his buttons, he didn’t wanna be exclusive then fine. You’d make sure he knew what that meant.

“I said, I’d fuck him if he ask. That's okay with you?”

“You’re mine, this-is mine. So don't you dare-” 

His hand started to circle your clit above your underwear stimulating you just enough to have moans leave your lips crushing your resolve ever so slightly.

“It’s not yours Taehyung. You never wanted it as yours”

You tried to make sure that your words stung as much as the thought of it stung you. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fallen for him while you’d been sleeping with him. You knew it was the ultimate cliché but you couldn’t help it. Everything about him made you hear swell with desire and need… and maybe even love. 

He moved your underwear to the side and slid his finger in you. His finger was cold as they entered you and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips as your warm pussy took his finger so easily. It moved slowly and his body pressed against yours gently. He nibbled at your ear as he humed making sure that when his fingers entered you they went as deep as they possibly could.  

“I was just trying to save you, princess. You couldn’t handle me as more than just a fuck buddy. You have no idea the things I would do to you if I knew I truly owned you”

His words made you wetter and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you thought about him truly owning your body, that's all you ever wanted. To be his, to belong to him. You pussy started pulsing around his fingers as he swiftly added the second. Your breathing was hitched and you could barely make a noise. His fingers were so long and thick and they always drove you crazy. You were barely coherent but this is something you’d been waiting to hear him say for months, you weren’t going to let it slip by easily. 

“Own me, please. I wanna be yours so bad”

Admitting it was the first step. This was the first time you said it outloud, you were scared he was going to remove his fingers there and then when you made your pathetic admission but he didn’t he simply added another one and pushed them in as hard as possible and wiggled them around leaving you with a silent scream. 

“Fuck baby, you don’t know what that means-”

His hand tightens slightly on your neck as he pulls his fingers out, pushing your underwear and jeans down your thighs giving himself more room as he pushes back inside of you pistoning his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace causing you to crash so close to your orgasm.

“You don’t have a clue what you’ll be getting into, I like my things to have my name on them. Would you let me write my name all over you?”

His fingers were going so fast it wouldn’t matter what he said you’d agree to anything.

“Yes, fuck yes, FUCK”

His fingers were driving you insane as your body spasmed and twitched around his fingers.

“You’d do everything I say at all times, I’d get to fuck you whenever I wanted. Get to play with you whenever, make you my little fucking princess, fuck I wanna own you so bad see my name written on your skin”

As he was talking his fingers got wilder and you couldn’t help but cum for him. You came so loud your voice was sore, your legs wouldn’t stop shaking and your vision was blank. It lasted longer than any orgasm you’d ever had, you blame the words he was muttering while you came for how long it lasted.

“Mine baby, all mine. You’re ready to finally be mine”

[danniburgh]

A million little times. (Dave York x f!reader)

Pairing: Dave York x f!reader

Summary: You scourged yourself for starting it and then having the audacity of asking for more.

You fell in love, he didn’t love you, yet you were willing to let him ruin you a million little times.

Word count: +5.2k

Warnings: welp this IS Dave York, but somehow came out softer than we’re used to lmao, SMUT SMUT SMUT minors BEGONE, some dirty talk, infidelity (not condoning it), some of reader’s and Dave’s dialogues may get you uncomfortable as they talk about possessiveness and HINTS of doing things against one’s will.

A/N: look guys, i don’t know what came onto me but i wanted two things, to write about our dear suburban murder daddy (because i love him and i love the dave york pit) and write something HEAVILY based on illicit affairs by my dearest ty ty. So here it is, this is more based on the bridge and the chorus of the song because those lines just do stuff to me, hope you like it :)

Masterlist // Read on ao3 // ko-fi

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 

“I’m going out” you said, zipping up your hoodie, heading for the door.

“Where the fuck are you going? it’s pouring outside,” your roommate questioned from the sofa she was lounging on, looking at you then at the window, she could see a lightning at the distance.

You grabbed your car keys and an umbrella from the small rack you kept by the door, more to make her stop questioning you than to actually use it outside.

“Somewhere” you replied without looking at her.

“Are you gonna see him? again?” she stood up and walked towards you, you rolled your eyes, she knew you too well “I thought you… dumped him”

“I did” you muttered, looking at your running shoes, knowing that if you held her really heavy judging gaze she would pull out the truth from you. You never left him, but you were about to.

“Then why the fuck are you going to see him?” she crossed her arms on her chest and you felt a tug on your stomach and bit your lip “holy shit” she made you look at her by grabbing your chin with her fingers and lifting your face “oh c’mon dude, seriously?”

“I’m gonna break up with him today!” you told her, almost whining.

“There’s nothing to break up!” she dropped her hand and let out an exasperated sigh, you knew she was right “he’s married! he’s older!” 

“Don’t you think I don’t fucking know that?” you spat at her. She rolled her eyes.

“You had tried to end things with that man four times now,” she sounded tired, she wasn’t scolding you anymore, she was trying to remind you “what is he doing to you? Fuck, you’re not like this!” 

You dropped your eyes to the floor again. He was doing so much; he was a lot to take. That man was killing you inside and taking away everything you were, he was eating your soul and you were letting him.

He was incredibly overwhelming, astonishingly overpowering, he suffocated you in the most delicious way; he was exhausting and demanding and knew you thoroughly, inside and out. He was too much and not enough. He was never nearly enough. And that was consuming you.

“You don’t really wanna know,” you said “but I’m gonna end things... today, I promise”

“Don’t make promises you know you can’t keep,” she murmured, going around you to open the door “I really hope you know what you’re doing”

“I am” you turned around and walked out. She called your name before closing the door.

“Please, be careful” you nodded instantly, not knowing if she knew something else you hadn’t told her or if she was just referring to the terrible weather outside. “good luck,” and she closed the door.

You stood in the hallway for a few seconds. Her last two words were weighing heavily in your mind, and you wondered again if she knew something. She couldn’t, but it wouldn’t be at all surprising. But you were grateful, you needed good luck. With Dave York, you always needed the luck on your side.

--

You parked the car and turned off the ignition. It was already dark, the only light that softly illuminated the inside of the car was the pink and blue led lights of the motel’s signboard, and the thick raindrops hitting the windshield made a gloomy, unsettling symphony that invaded your ears and was starting to drill inside your brain.

You hesitated to send him a text that read im here, but did it anyway, and waited there for his text back as you always did, he would tell you which room you needed to go to and how long you had to wait for him.

Because he always made you wait. He made sure you knew he was the one making time for you in his so full schedule and you had to be available for him at any time, any day he wanted.

You wanted to leave; you were considering just turning back on the ignition, reverse the car out of the parking lot and go back home. 

Were you seriously thinking about standing him up?, you couldn’t do that, not to him. You knew he was capable of driving all the way to your apartment, kick off the door and fuck you senseless as a punishment. 

He was too much and you couldn’t take it, that’s why you wanted it to stop.

Yet you received his text almost right away, he was already waiting for you inside. That made you anxious, because he never did that. 

You got out of the car and ran to the stairs, not minding getting wet as the distance from the parking lot to the covered hallway was not very long. You tried to control your breathing as it hitched when you reached the room with the number 2B on the white door and you failed. 

The door opened before you could even raise your hand to knock, and there he was. In all his clean, broad, stiff glory.

“Hi” was the only thing you could breathe out, his eyes wandered through your body from the running shoes you slipped on when you got his i want to see you text, to the black leggings you were already wearing that he liked too much and your crimson hoodie you grabbed from the laundry pile on the floor of your room.

His face was unreadable as always, but somehow after all the time you’ve been… what you were, you knew he wasn’t very fond of the ensemble you had put together.

“Dave?” you broke the silence, he looked back at you and moved to the side to let you into the room. Once you got in, he swiftly closed and locked the door and in one long step he was pressing his chest against your back and his half hardened cock against your ass, ripping a whimper out of your throat.

“I missed you, baby,” his voice was deep and hungry in your ear, his hands were hot and heavy roaming around your hips and your stomach, one of them traveled quickly under your hoodie and the tank top you were wearing and cupped your breast, he liked you better when you weren’t wearing a bra “I missed these tits” he pressed an open mouthed kiss on your jaw and a moan left your body without your permission, his other hand was about to snake inside your leggins when you grabbed his wrist and stopped it.

“Dave” you breathed, feeling his smirk on the skin of your neck, his hand on your chest kneaded the flesh and his fingers played with your nipple. You were wet and for the first time in god knows how long you didn’t like it.

“Say my name again” he ordered. You shook your head trying to focus.

“Dave, stop” your voice was thin but sharp and stung into him exactly like a needle. He stopped his movements but didn’t remove his hands from your body.

“What do you mean stop?” he grunted, still in your ear you tried to move your head away from his lips, to move your body away from him but his embrace was tight and it was too overwhelming for you to form a coherent sentence.

“I want this to stop” the words left your mouth before you could really measure the weight of them.

Then and only then Dave broke all contact with you, and even there, your body shivered at the loss of his heat.

“Again with that shit?” he grunted out, you looked down and tried to regain your composure “you need to understand something, baby” he grabbed your shoulder and turned you around to face him “you’re mine” he cupped your face with both hands and pressed his mouth with yours hoarsely, your hands instinctively placed themselves on his chest and you tried to push him away “your mouth is mine” he growled, his lips traveled to your neck and he bit the tender flesh over the jugular, making you whine “this neck is mine” one of his hands snaked down and he cupped your breast over the thick fabric of the hoodie “these tits are mine” that same hand traveled further down and around your body and he fisted your buttcheek, you started trembling “this ass in mine” you shook your head again, his hand gripped your chin and you felt his fingers digging on your cheek, a shaky moan escaped you when he palmed your pussy over the leggings “this cunt is mine” he moved your head and made you look at him in the eyes. Lust and anger had darkened his brown hard eyes “you’re all mine and you’re not leaving me”.

“I’m not yours” you breathed out on his hand and when you thought his eyes couldn’t look at you worse, they hardened even more.

“No?” he pulled your head, making your forehead clash with his “are you telling me you’re not?” 

When had you become so scared of him?

You felt a familiar sting on your throat and your lower lip started trembling.

“Don’t even think about crying right now” he spat, his voice was two octaves lower than it normally is and a tear slipped out. He grumbled and lick it away off your cheek “even your tears are mine”

“Please,” you pleaded “Dave, please”

“Dave please” he mocked you and his hand moved to your neck, your breath hitched and you closed your eyes, waiting for him to squeeze “why do you wanna leave me?”

The question lingered in the tight space between your faces and you gulped hard, trying to understand if it was just a rhetorical or an actual question. The silence fell heavy and the gloomy symphony the rain was making had stopped outside.

He stood there, crazily close to you, his hand around your neck and the other grabbing your wrist. He was waiting for you to respond and you were trying to gather all your thoughts. You weren’t sure if your reasons were going to be enough for him, but you needed to try.

“Can you please let go of me?” you asked him softly, opening your eyes to meet his. “please”

His hands left your body, and he sighed, visibly tired, and you knew you had little time to try to explain to him everything you wanted before he got desperate and tried to fuck you again.

“Sit” he ordered, you stepped backwards and the back of your knees hit the mattress, you sat and he stood in front of you, crossing his arms on his chest, just waiting for you to begin.

“I–I want more” you mumbled, dropping your gaze yet again to avoid his heavy eyes on you “and you can’t give it to me”

“What more do you want?” he walked to you and his body heat made your eyes close

“You” you let out, feeling your eyes fill with tears again and your chest stung when he let out an exasperated sigh.

“You’ve got me” his voice was rough, you shook your head.

“No, I don’t” you stood up “fuck, Dave, you’re married!” you panted, his arms dropped and he just stared at you.

“Sit down!”

“Drop it!” you cut him off “you have kids!” and the sudden realization that he didn’t care about that as he looked at you with a serious but blank expression made you want to scream “and I’m what? your relief?” 

“Listen to me–” he started, you shook your head.

“No, stop!” you blinked your tears away “and I think I might be sick because I–I think I love you”

You saw his eyes shift, his strong, inexpressive facade fell for a few seconds as his brow furrowed slightly. And against your will, it gave you the smallest hint of hope.

No, he doesn’t love you, he will never love you.

“And you’re consuming me, Dave,” you let out “I don’t like the person I am when I’m with you”

“Baby–”

“Don’t call me that” you begged, wiping the tears that had fallen down your cheeks “I’m a mess, Dave” you sobbed out “I let you take over my life!” 

He gave a step towards you and you lifted your palm to make him stop.

“I let you control every single aspect of my life, I’m such an idiot,” he shook his head “yes! I am be–because I’m still here! I’m letting you ruin me yet another time!” 

He called your name roughly, and you shivered at the sound of it in his voice. There had been a long time since he last used your name.

“I’m not gonna let you leave,” he drawled, his voice still low. He walked towards you again and grabbed your wrists “you’re not walking out on me, you hear me?” your face quirked in pain and he let go of one of your wrists and moved his hand up to wipe your tears with the back of his fingers “you knew what you were getting into,” he cupped your face “I’m not letting you go and you will take what I give you,” he closed the distance between you.

You knew this would happen; you knew he wouldn’t accept it; you were tired. He was exhausting.

His lips were soft and warm against yours and for a moment, his touch on your face made you feel cared for.

“For how long?” you asked on his lips, he moved back to look at you with a frown “how long will you keep me?”

Were you really agreeing to this? Were you just about to take it? He was basically forcing you at that point and you were really just… embracing it?

“You really want out?” you saw him studying your face, his eyes traveled around your pained expression and you saw them flash in front of you, you blinked away the tears that had gathered in your eyes and nodded.

“You’re destroying me,” you whispered.

“How am I destroying you?” his question sounded genuine, as if he was surprised at your revelation.

“Don’t you know?” you saw him shaking his head slowly “think about it Dave, you’re too overwhelming, too apprehensive, too rough, too much,” 

“You like it” he let out, almost as if he was reminding you of it.

“That’s the thing, I love it,” you whined out “I love you and you don’t love me and all thi–”

“Who says I don’t?” he cut you off, you widened your eyes.

“What?” your voice roughened and his jaw tightened.

“Don’t think for me,” he spat, his hands moved to your shoulders “if I’m telling you I won’t let you leave it’s not because I want to keep you against your will,” you sighed “it’s because I just want you,” he licked his lips and breathed out heavily “I get it, it’s not fair, I won’t leave my family,” you felt your lids drop and a whimper left your body “I can’t give you what I already gave to them,” you felt your legs weaken and his hands slid from your shoulders to your waist as he held you “I can just give you this, and if you won’t take it, then go and I won’t bother you again”

“Fuck,” you breathed out, he broke the embrace he had you in and you sat on the bed slowly, hand resting on your thighs, head hanging low, tears slipping out. He kneeled in front of you. His face was blank again, but there was something behind his eyes that told you he didn’t want you to leave him.

For a moment you let yourself remember how everything had started. It was an autumn night, months and months before that felt like years.

You were getting into a coffee shop and he was heading out; you bumped into each other and he spilled his black coffee all over your beige coat. You had giggled, and he was almost mortified, rambling about paying the dry cleaning and buying you another coat, he even gave you his card and offered to pay for your coffee order. You told him over and over not to worry and accepted his drink offer with the condition of drinking it with him. He introduced himself and asked for your name; you had seen the golden ring in his left hand right away and yet you still flirted with him because you didn’t think he would take onto your advances; he told you he had enjoyed your company and asked for your number when you were saying goodbye.

He called you for the first time the next day and asked you out. He proposed it as two new friends getting to know each other, but the whole dinner he was eating you with his eyes. You were enjoying the way he was looking at you and talking to you and how his hand slid on the table to brush your knuckles, and when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere else you didn’t hesitate in saying yes.

That night he fucked your brains out in a nice hotel suite he had previously reserved, because he knew you wouldn’t say no.

And from there you opened up to him, he taught you new things about your body you had never known; he made you cum in so many ways you never knew were possible; he kissed you and took your breath away; he ate you out like a thirsty man drinking a glass of water after three days on the dessert; he fucked you like it was the first and the last time.

He had memorized every single thing you liked; he knew your body in ways you didn't and he let you get to know his so you could give him as much pleasure as he wanted.

Dave soon enough became the owner of every single thought and free hour you had.

He invaded your mind and your body in the most delicious way; he took over and appropriated your whispers, your sighs, your shudders, your orgasms and every gasp and moan that came out of your mouth. He was rough and broad and hard, and he praised you as you liked it, and he gave into your demands and kinks as much as you gave into his.

He became everything you wanted, and he possessed you in so many ways you stopped going out with friends to meet with him. You changed your schedule as he asked and accommodated yourself to please his needs. Dave occupied your life and you let him.

Yet you knew nothing about him.

Of course he told you he was married. But you found out he had two daughters when you picked up his wallet from the floor and saw the picture of them he had inside. He never told you their names or their ages. He never told you what he did for a living or where he lived.

And after some time he stopped taking you into nice hotel suites and started meeting you in cheap motels. He started being rougher, and you started loving him. 

And every orgasm he took out of you and every sigh and moan and whimper and gasp came out of you with so much love you knew he could feel it, yet he said nothing and made sure you didn’t ask for more.

You didn’t know at what point it became unbearable, unsustainable, incredibly hard to meet him. You started thinking about his wife, about his daughters, about the things he had with them and not with you. 

You scourged yourself for starting it and then having the audacity of asking for more.

Then you asked him to stop all of it for the first time, and he just brushed it off and fucked you with his fingers and his mouth and his cock until you forgot the idea.

The second time you asked, he took you to dinner after having you ride him for two hours and ripped out of you so much pleasure you thought it was going to change something.

But it didn’t.

And so on.

And now he was kneeling in front of you while you sobbed your eyes out and he was still as overwhelming and overpowering as he always was, yet his body radiated so much heat you wanted to rip his clothes off and show him how much he had made you love him.

“I’m obsessed with you,” he muttered, taking your hands and intertwining them with his “you keep roaming around my mind like it’s your job to invade my every thought,” you looked at him and his eyes pulled something inside you that didn’t have a name until that same moment “I think about you when I’m fucking my wife, and I have to stop myself from calling her by your name,” two thick tears escaped your eyes and he took a hand out of the entanglement on your lap to brush them off softly “I need you,”

He said he needed you and you believed him. You needed him too, even though he was never going to fully be yours, even though he would never give you what you wanted and the cheap motels or the nice hotel suites and the sporadic dinner dates would never be nearly enough.

He said he needed you and you needed him more. More than he could ever need you. You needed him and wanted him and loved him so bad you were willing to take in whatever he wanted to give you from himself, even if it was scraps and crumbles of an already taken and loved man.

“Fuck, Dave,” you looked at him, his eyes deep and mysteriously bewitching, and you knew instantly, you would let that man break you in infinite pieces, you would let him use you and manhandle you as he pleased and you would let him ruin you over and over again.

“I need you” he repeated, with another connotation. He needed your body, and you needed his. You let out a heavy sigh and lifted your hands to cup his face, he immediately pushed himself up and took your lips on his.

His kiss was eager, anxious and hungry. His hands moved to your waist, and he slowly made you lay on the bed, leaning down with you to hover over your body with his knees on each side of your thighs on the mattress, without breaking the kiss.

Dave slid a hand inside your hoodie and started wandering around the skin of your belly and your chest. His hand was still warm and his touch was softer than it had been the last few dozen times he had touched you.

You let out a soft whimper when his tongue licked your lower lip and gained access to your mouth; he let you put your hands around his neck and your fingers started playing with the short hair on his nape.

“Your lips are mine” he whispered against your lips, you smiled softly. Of course.

“Yours, ”

His hand inside your hoodie moved to your breast, and he started playing softly with your nipple, you felt your arousal gathering inside your thighs.

You felt a tug inside your lower belly when he moved his mouth to your neck and started leaving kisses on the soft skin, Dave hadn’t kissed your neck like that since the first time he had fucked you.

“Your neck is mine” his breathing hit the wet spot he had kissed, and you moaned.

“Yours,”

His other hand played with the hem of your leggings, and he licked your earlobe.

“Stand up, let me take off your clothes,” he whispered into your ear, it wasn’t an order but it wasn’t a plea, you moaned and he moved back to help you stand off the bed.

You stood in front of him and he grabbed the hem of the hoodie; he lifted it up, and you raised your arms for him to remove it from your body; he dropped it on the floor next to him and did the same with the tank top you were wearing underneath. His eyes stayed glued to your breasts, and he raised his hands to cup both of them. He walked to you and kissed you again, kneading the flesh softly as he breathed in the sighs you were letting out.

“Your tits are mine” he whispered on your lips.

“Yours” your hands moved to his chest, and you started to unbutton his shirt nimbly.

He let you slide his shirt off and drop it on the floor. You moved to his belt and unbuckled it.

Dave snaked his hands from your chest to your waist and then around your body to caress both buttcheeks over the fabric of the leggings.

“Your ass is mine” he whispered, you nodded as you unzipped his pants and slid your hands from his waist through his briefs to his own ass and knead him for a second. Dave looked at your face and you smiled at him softly, he saw your puffy red eyes from crying and leaned down to kiss you again.

For a moment you let yourself forget all the powerfully negative things you had felt about the whole situation. His lips being soft and warm enough for you to blank your mind.

You wanted to ask him why was he being so soft with you, but you didn’t want him to stop.

He moved his hands from your ass back to the waistband of your leggings and pulled down along with your underwear, breaking the kiss only to help you get out of them and out of your shoes.

“Lay down” he murmured, again not ordering yet not pleading. And you did as you were told.

Dave removed the rest of his clothes and grabbed your knees, spreading you open in front of him, he saw you wet and his hand trailed all the way up your thigh; he slid two fingers across your slit; you gasped at the contact and your hips circled, trying to get closer to his hand.

He leaned down and supported himself on one hand, his knees between your legs, while bringing the hand in between your legs to your mouth and spread your arousal on your lips.

You were about to lick them to taste yourself when his lips clashed into yours, hungrier than before, both of you tasting your juices in the kiss.

Your hand reached down between your bodies to grab his hardened cock and pump him a few times, his kiss became sloppy and wet as you played with the pre semen on the tip, he let out a grumble when you choked the head with your thumb and your index around it and he bit your lower lip when you squeezed it.

He took your wrist as he broke the contact of your lips and removed your hand from his cock; you knew what was coming and you spread your legs wider to give him space.

Dave lined himself up to your slit and played the tip up and down from your entrance to your clit and pressed it on the bundle of nerves, ripping a loud moan out of you.

“Dave, please,” you whispered, he was looking at you, his brown eyes were less hard and less dark and you moved your hips to try to get him closer to you.

“What, baby,” he asked, low voiced.

“Fuck me,” you said, he gave you half a smile as he slid himself into your core, his hand gripping your hip. You let out a sigh in relief as he painfully slowly bottomed up.

He stayed inside for a few seconds for your walls to stretch and get used to his thickness.

“Your cunt is mine” he whispered, looking into your eyes, you nodded and he kissed your temple “you’re still so tight, baby,” he pulled out almost entirely and thrusted into you slowly “so tight and wet as the first time I fucked you”

You curled your arms around his shoulders when he hid his face in the crook of your neck and let out a moan when he circled his hips inside you and hit ever so slowly that sweet spot that only his cock could find.

“Dave, shit,” you gasped when he thrusted into you harder “no–nobody could,” he pounded into you again “e–ever fuck me like you do,” 

You felt his smirk on your skin and he licked and kissed the skin that was within reach of his mouth, moving his hips faster until he found a pace that made you squirm and whine under him.

“You’re all mine, baby,” he breathed on your ear “say you’re mine,”

“I’m yours, Dave,” his hand snaked from your hip to the spot you were joined and he gathered some of your arousal with his fingers, he started circling his wet fingers on your clit and you whimpered “oh my–god, Da–Dave,”

“Fucking say you’re mine,” he moaned again in your ear as his hips moved faster “you’re mine to take, mine to use mine and only mine,” his thrust became deeper, “your body and your mind are mine, say it,” his fingers played your clit nimbly.

“Shit,” you hissed out, closing your eyes and clenching around him, he moaned your name “I’m yours, Dave, I’m all yours,” you cried out as you felt your core on fire and the known tide of sensations drowned you from the inside of your lower belly “I’m so close,” you panted.

“Cum around my cock, baby,” he moved faster and his fingers slid into your pussy almost by themselves and you felt so full by his cock and his hand you felt your orgasm hit you like a giant wave in the middle of a storm.

You cried out his name once, twice, three times as he fucked you through your high chasing his own orgasm.

He moaned your name again, and he lifted his head from your neck to kiss you. His fingers were still inside you along with his cock and he was so close he could see white spots behind his closed eyes.

“Dave please come inside me,” you whispered against his lips, he kissed you again and you bit his lower lip, he opened his eyes to see your post orgasmic smile and your glassy eyes “claim me, fill me up, baby,” you pleaded “please, I want to feel your cum,” he moaned again and pounded deep once, twice and you felt his hot seed spilling inside your core.

“Fuck,” his breath hitched “holy shit, baby,” he pulled out his hand out of your pussy as his cock finished spurting and he licked his fingers clean. You smiled at him and he stuffed them into your mouth. You giggled, licking his saliva and the rest of your juices off.

He watched you recover your breath, and you traced his clean shaven jawline with your fingers. He moved his head to kiss your palm without losing eye contact.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” he muttered against your hand.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“I’m gonna make some changes,” he breathed. You nodded, “but you're not leaving,”

“I'm not leaving,”

“Good,”

[fungifaggot]

Please Take Me Home...

A/n: Back again with an annual post wahoo. Anyway, I hope yall are doing okay and staying safe. (Heads up I didn’t edit this well)

!Feel free to send constructive criticism!

Summary: Peter is drunk and alone and he wants to go home. Little did he know, asking you for a ride home would be one of the best decisions he ever made.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Swearing, underaged drinking, sad peter, Ion kno.

The music was loud and the air was warm. The house was full of nearly one hundred sweaty bodies colliding into one another, yet somehow Peter managed to still feel alone.

Deep breaths he told himself

Yet with every passing gasp for air the sensation of suffocating only grew stronger. He wanted to get out of there, and he wanted to get out now.

For the past hour he had been on a search for Ned and Mj,  and as much as it pained him to do so, he was coming to terms with the fact that they had left him, and therefore so did his ride. (Not that they'd ever do that, but let's just assume they thought he had already left or something)

Good god did he wish that he had never been talked into coming, and god did he wish that he wasn’t still there.

Yet no matter how hard he wished or how tight he shut his eyes, every time they opened he was still there. Surrounded. Not only by people, but with booze, loud music, and the disgusting warmth that was radiating off the flesh of every sweaty intoxicated teenager.

At that very moment everything was wrong. His head was throbbing, rhythmic pounding clouding any coherent thought he had, and surely the loud bass wasn’t helping

Peter knew that you also had attended the party, but subconsciously he had been trying his best to avoid you in any way possible.

You see, it wasn't because he disliked you or anything. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

You and Peter got along great. The bond between You, Mj, Ned, and Peter was unbreakable and he loved spending time with you, but despite your friendly personality, Peter was appalled at the idea of talking to you. He couldn’t help it. Any time he was around you, he reeked of insecurity. Feeling as though he wasn’t good enough. You weren’t popular per say, but the way you held yourself in such a laid back yet confident manner had somehow managed to leave a great impression with just about everyone. And it was that fact about you that made Peter doubt himself. He’d tell himself that he was much too boring or too ‘lame’ to be around you. And although he knew you’d never think that about him yourself, he’d instantaneously tense up and get painfully awkward the second you walked into the room, and that alone that made him fear your presence.

(It also didn't really help that he had the worst crush on you.. Like seriously the worst. As in staying up till 2:00 am stalking your social media type of bad.)

Despite Peter's dread, he was beginning to realize that he wasn't exactly given a choice. There was no one else in the house even remotely worth talking to except you. And with that in mind Peter began his second search of the night.

It only took him about two solid minutes to give up, in which he resorted to just tapping someone on the shoulder and asking.

“HEY! DO YOU KNOW WHERE (Y/N) IS?” He shouted, unable to hear his own voice over the sound of the blaring music.

“OH YEAH! HE’S UPSTAIRS IN THE ROOM TO THE LEFT...I THINK” Was the slurred response he received.

“OH UHH OKAY. THANK YOU” Peter replied.

“YEAH ANYTIME MAN” he heard behind him as he beelined to the staircase.

Inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth he reminded himself as he made his way up the stairs, trying to build up courage with every step he passed.

He took one last deep breath, attempting to calm the violent shaking occurring within his hands. He formed them into a fist and brought one up to the door, sending a knock that would echo throughout the hallway.

“Come in~” he heard from behind the door, giving him permission to enter.

As soon as the door creaked open, he was met face to face with a thick cloud of smoke. He stepped inside, taking in a deep breath, flooding his nose with the stench of marijuana before almost immediately making eye contact with you. 

“Peteyyyy” You sang out, halting the conversation you were previously having

,but before Peter had the chance to respond, his voice hitched in the back of his throat and an overwhelming feeling of warmth tremored throughout his body. He knew something bad was about to happen. He knew he was going to puke...

“Uhhh, s-sorry. Wrong room.” He muttered out, making a 180 degree turn before bolting out the door. His palms began to sweat and his mouth salivated heavily. He tried to breathe and suppress the violent urge to puke, but knew that there was no hope. He ran to the closest bathroom, not bothering to knock as he bursted through the door slamming it shut behind him. He made his way to the (thankfully already open) toilet and emptied out his stomach. He continued to gag, and eventually made himself comfortable on the bathroom floor when he felt he was finished. He flushed the contents down and rested his cheek on the toilet seat only to then perk his head up when he heard a light knock on the bathroom door.

“Hey Petey, you doin’ okay in there?”

“Y-yeah im okay! Just a little...tired that's all!” He rushed out, internally smacking himself in the face. “Just a little tired”? What the fuck Peter.

He heard the door open and rushed into a sitting position, trying to appear as normal.

You sauntered in, closing the toilet lid and taking a seat on it.

“You doin’ okay?” You repeated.

“Yeah, i’m just fine. Y’know.. like I said.” He responded, flashing you a forced smile.

You rolled your eyes at him and gave his hair a gentle pet.

“You sure? You seem... off.” you uttered, handing him a bottle of water.

Peter sighed accepting your offer, moving his eyes down to his feet.

“I just don’t really want to be here right now.” he said before taking a swig.

“Shit...I’m sorry.” you sighed out.

“There anything I could do to help?”

Peter brought his sorrow filled eyes back up to yours,

“I-is there any way you could take me home?”

“Fuck. Baby you know I would if I could, but I’m uh... not exactly sober right now.” You responded, guilt lacing your words, as you began to regret your decisions.

“Baby”. He knew it was a word that you’d throw around to any of your close friends, but he couldn't suppress the warm feeling that burned throughout his body when it rolled off your tongue.

Peter let out a shy chuckle continuing to sip from the bottle and replied

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

“Looks like neither of us are driving.” You said with a deep chuckle.

“Where’s Ned and Mj? I bet they’d help.” You asked after a few seconds of silence.

“Gone.”

“Oh...” Was all you could find yourself responding with.

You stood up from where you sat, extending your hand out to Peter.

“Lets get outta here. Even if it's just for a bit.” You said with a slanted smile.

You helped him up slowly, placing your free hand on his lower back, directing him towards the door.

Peter waited at the top of the stairs while you notified your friends of your departure.

As soon as you returned you took a hold of his hand and guided him down the stairs and out the door. A small gust of wind met your face as the door shut behind you. The sweat gathered on the back of Peter's neck began to fade and the throbbing in his head lessened. Not completely, but enough for it to be bearable.

“Feels good to be out of there huh?” You said almost as if you had read his mind, compelling him to nod in agreement.

The two of you began to walk in a random direction, hands still together. Peter's mind racing a million miles a minute.

“Where did Ned and Mj go?”

“Is (Y/n) annoyed that he has to spend time with me?”

“Oh god, my hands are sweating aren't they…”

“What... you nervous or somethin?” You giggled, raising your connected hands into the air and squishing  them together to emphasize the fact that they were sticky.

If it weren’t for the fact that it was nearly 1:00 in the morning and there were no cars out, Peter swore he would’ve jumped in front of one without hesitation.

“Oh um, i’m sorry...” He muttered, embarrassment flooding his system, so much to the point it  nearly put the boy in tears.

“Awe, c’mon I'm just kidding around” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Oh ha-haaa” Peter replied sarcastically, sending you a childish pout.

You bumped your hip into his as a friendly gesture, causing him to stumble a bit.

“It’s...cute.”

“Cute.” He muttered, moreso to himself than you.

The two of you continued to walk, not even sure where it was you planned on going. The silence grew thicker with every passing second, but Peter was much too caught up in his own thoughts to even notice. You released his grip, bringing him back to reality, and went to dig around your pocket.

“Aha-” you brought your hand back up, displaying a pair of airpods (or any bluetooth ones idrc)

“You want it?” You asked, wiggling your phone in the air.

“O-oh! Sure!” he said, snatching it and placing it in his ear.

You put on (S/n). (‘Song name’, I humbly recommend ‘One Last Time by Summer Salt’) Peter's nerves settled as the rhythm of the song blared through his ears, drowning out his pesky thoughts.

You grabbed his hand again and started to swing it to the beat. Peter stared at you in awe as you swayed your head from side to side, meandering a bit as you walked. Eventually you swung your arm around Peter's shoulder, forcing him to move with you. If it weren't for the alcohol he probably would have laughed it off and nudged you, but instead he immitated your actions and began to sway overdramatically. That continued until you came to an abrupt stop and pointed. Peter followed you gaze, finding himself staring at a park.

You looked at him for a long second before bolting off towards the park without warning.

“Hey!” Peter yelped out, out eventually following your lead.

You ran and clumsily dove into a swing set, pushing yourself up off the ground, in a ‘superman’ pose before you came back down, dragging your hands and feet through the wood chips. You swung back and forth a few times before Peter came up and pushed your back so you rose up  once again.

“Excuse you!” You laughed out flailing your legs in attempt to get him off of you, before ‘gracefully’ sliding off so that you stumbled for a second before ending up on your ass.

“You look like a dumbass” Peter said with a bright smile, kicking some wood chips at you.

You stood up, brushing your self off while looking him in the eyes

“and you love it” you said with a wink.

“Shut up” He said, lightly shoving your chest and turning away to hide his blush.

After that the two of you messed around, sliding down slides, and fucking around on the monkey bars until you eventually ended up laying down in a grass field looking up at the stars.

The two of you talked about everything. College, work, the party, Peters ‘internship’, everything.

“Why don’t we talk more?” you sighed out as you sat back up.

“I don’t know...” Peter lied, whilst clumsily rolling over to rest his head on your thigh.

“Well. We should.” You stated, moving so that you were looking down into his eyes. You stayed in the position for what felt like forever, enjoying the gentle wind, as you analyzed Peters features. 

You pulled out your phone, breaking the silence after reading the time

2:30 am 

“You wanna head back?” You asked, ruffling Peter's hair.

“Back where exactly?”

“My place?”

“Sure” Peter yawned.

You turned your music back up once you were both standing, hands interlocking once again as you started your adventure for the second time that night.

Once you returned to the house, you saw that the lights were still on and the music was very much still blaring. 

You opened the car door on Peters side before walking around and getting in yourself.

As the two of you got seated Peter handed you your head phone back and let his body relax.

You reached into the back and pulled up a soft blanket, handing it to Peter. 

You turned the radio on, keeping the volume low as you gave yourself some time to completely sober up. You turned to Peter so you could continue the conversation from earlier, only to be met with a sleeping boy.

Drool dribbled from his lips and slight snores emitted from him. His hair was a mess and boy did he not look comfortable, but you thought it was sweet nonetheless.

You pulled your phone out and snapped a picture of him.

You were definitely gonna show him that in the morning

After about another 30 minutes of simply relaxing, you turned the key and drove off.

Peter mumbled in his sleep as you nudged him for what was probably the hundredth time, only waking up when you smacked him in the back of the head. You led him to the apartment door and unlocked it, kicking your shoes off to the side as soon as you entered. 

Once you reached your room, you swung the door open, signaling for him to enter before you.

“Such a gentleman” Peter said in a groggy voice, before making himself comfortable and plopping onto your bed. He nearly fell back asleep until he was abruptly hit by a flock of clothes.

“There ya go- figured you’d want em’ since we're covered in dirt.” You chuckled

“Oh yeah...and this” tossing him a brand new toothbrush.

You tore your shirt off and chucked it into a random corner, grabbing some clean sweatpants as you made your way to the bathroom.

You turned around at the door, noticing that Peter had been staring at you

“I’ll be right back”

After brushing your teeth and changing, you came back out. Peter taking your previous position in the bathroom.

In the meantime you got comfortable, rearranging the pillows so that they were equally distributed.

Peter eventually came back out dressed in your clothes, looking almost as if he were drowning in your hoodie. If you could have snapped a picture right then and there, you would have, but simply seeing him like that was enough for you.

You lifted up the blanket signalling for him to join you, and he did so after turning off all the lights.

You both laid next to each other in the dark for a bit before you heard Peter turn to face you.

You turned your head just so that you could just make out his general figure. Despite it being dark, you could see that Peter was looking up at you with his puppy like eyes.

“Could you uhm... could you maybe hold me?” He stammered out.

You smiled softly, not that he could see it, and wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling him into you, and allowing himself to burrow in and get as warm as possible.

“Of course Peter” you whispered into his hair

“Of course...”

___________

Tags:

@marvelgbtposts @eliotsbambimargo @ethanharli @baldsaitama @malereaderinsert @malereader-inserts @myfeetkeepdancing @malereaderimagines @dis-boi-be-a-gay-peter @jerod-writes @katsukispicycaramel @luv-hqs @sinfulcries

(literally let me know asap if my tags are annoying you LMAO)

[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 2

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your  family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader word length: 5k chapters: 2/? warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. Open the read more and CTRL + F, search “content warnings” to skip to detailed trigger warnings at the bottom of the chapter.

hey read this: im desperately hoping this lives up to the standards the first chapter apparently set my dudes, fingers crossed i don’t lose any of you with this one 🤞🤞 also before we get started i just wanna let yall know i am very firmly set in my decisions for the designations and i do not apologize lmao 🤙 

You had been manhandled often enough in your life but fuck this time in particular. Even if you’d managed to pass as a beta for more than a decade, you weren’t strong and couldn’t stand your ground in the face of an alpha three times your size. Steve had sucked his fingers clean and easily hefted you up into his arms, following Bruce back into the cabin and down into the basement—you hadn’t been allowed to clean the basement, it was one of the off-limits areas that were noted in your many instructions. If a door is locked, leave it alone. No cleaning is necessary in the basement, garage, or third floor. Wash the linens with a scent free detergent. Make sure the refrigerator is properly scrubbed out.

He’d left you on a metal countertop with instructions to be good for Bruce. You weren’t sure what that entailed but as soon as the blond left the room, your mind started to race. There was no way you could get away from Steve, Sam you could potentially outrun, but Bruce? Being left alone with the beta was the best thing they could’ve done for you. You could get away from Bruce.

“Have you been to see a doctor recently?” His voice was gentle, intended to be soothing as he came to stand in front of you. "Any check-ups, clinic visits?”

You knew there was blood drying on your cracked lips, cutting a jarring path down your throat. The taste was still in your mouth, you’d gouged your tongue and it was still actively bleeding. With that in mind you made direct eye contact with the beta before letting the mouthful spill over your bottom lip and drip down your front, hoping the gore would help emphasize your opinions on the situation.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset—”

“Bruce, why is she bleeding?” It was like getting punched in the face by alpha pheromones the moment the door to the room opened again and a much younger alpha stepped through with a practically panicked expression.

Before you or Bruce could respond you’d been swept up in the alpha’s arms. He was a few years younger than you, early twenties probably and being manhandled by a fetus was particularly bothersome. His scent kept you still for a few seconds before you started squirming, making a beta-like snarl while he corralled your limbs.

“Here Pete, can you sit with her over here? We need a blood draw and full work up, her natural hormones have probably been devastated by the chemicals in the suppressants she was taking,” Bruce gestured for the alpha to carry you to a metal table, likely meant to be used for some sort of experiments if the rest of the room was anything to judge by. "All of her reproductive organs could’ve been affected, I’ll need to do a pelvic exam. We’ll run an STD panel and—”

“No! I don’t consent!” Your voice came out as a growl, the best one you could manage. "This is false imprisonment! Let go of me you fucking knothead! This is illegal!”

The alpha started to purr immediately and you found yourself rendered boneless under the onslaught. It was startling—you’d forgotten how it felt, how calm and safe it made you feel. Alpha purrs were meant to soothe and comfort, the tones perfectly adjusted to the omega ear. They also caused a completely involuntary reaction in omegas, the same as all other alpha sounds. You had no choice but to feel relaxed, the white noise of a purr jumbling your thoughts.

Bruce smiled down at you, hand running over the top of your head where it rested against the alpha’s chest. "It’s okay, you don’t have to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to you, I just want to make sure you’re healthy.”

“Isn’t that better baby?” The alpha sat back on the table and pulled you to sit between his legs, tucked close to his chest. “And unless you have a guardian alpha, it’s not illegal. We’re doing our civic duty, taking care of an omega in unsafe conditions.”

The worst part was that you couldn’t fight it; you couldn’t find your way out of the calm static the purr filled your brain with. Even when Bruce started taking multiple vials of blood from your left arm, when he opened your mouth to check the damage to your tongue, when they started undressing you, you couldn’t fight. It was a hazy sort of half thought, that you wanted them to stop. It must’ve been apparent in your eyes, that you were trying to work your way out of the purr’s effects.

“Shhhh, sweetheart, you’re alright,” Bruce murmured quietly as his hands pressed the glands in your neck, fingers brushing gently against the scent gland in particular. "No swelling in your thyroid or mating nodes, that’s good. Suppressants can really cause problems in your hormone glands; the blood tests will tell us for sure but it looks like you might’ve dodged the worst of it if nothing’s enflamed. How long have you been on suppressants?”

Answering was the last thing on your mind, your eyes slowly roving over the room instead. It was some sort of lab set up, tons of machines and parts of machines, technology you couldn’t even begin to comprehend. Bruce had been taking things from one particular cabinet that seemed to hold medical supplies, the rest of the place resembling a robotics factory or some kind of high-tech research and development lab. The doors had swished open automatically when Steve brought you in and when the new alpha came through. Who had automatic doors in a vacation home?

“Should I stop?” The alpha questioned the doctor, chest continuing to rumble. “I might be making her too calm I guess.”

“No, just keep doing what you’re doing Peter,” Bruce sighed slightly. "There’s too much coherence in her eyes as it is, I don’t know if the purr affects her as much as it should. I’m worried that if you weren’t enhanced it wouldn’t work at all. Look at me sweetie, can you focus on face?”

His hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your head carefully while watching your eyes. You couldn’t find the energy to focus on his face; you couldn’t imagine the purr affecting you more than it already was and dreaded the idea that it could be worse. What did enhanced mean? Like the superheroes you’d been hearing about? You didn’t keep up on current events, unless they were Omega's Rights related.

“I’m sure it’s a result of the beta chemicals dampening her omega instincts,” Peter shifted you slightly as Bruce exchanged his gloves for a new pair. "Once her body starts producing hormones on its own again she should revert back to common responses to alpha stimuli.”

“You’re probably right, we’ll know for sure once I get the blood results,” Bruce gestured for Peter to sit up more, bringing your limp body with him. “I’m going to do a breast exam and a pelvic exam and we’re done. There are some other tests I want to run but I don’t have the equipment on hand so they’ll have to wait until Tony manages to get here. Peter, can you help move her arms?”

You felt like you almost managed to swim through the purr, rage fueling you as hands manipulated your breasts. The exam itself was clinical, professional even—or it would’ve been if he hadn’t been cooing at you the whole time, how good you were being, how sweet you were, how pretty your breasts were. Peter had hummed in agreement along with the doctor, his nose trailing up and down your neck. Your hands clenched into fists and you could feel Peter’s grip on your wrists shift with the movement.

“Calm down, baby,” the alpha’s voice cooed gently against the side of your head, lips pressing into your hair as Bruce shifted away and went for the medical cabinet again. "This is important. Suppressants could’ve caused tons of problems, cancerous growths in sexual organs or secondary sex characteristics is very common.”

Death would be a reprieve. The same thought that crossed your mind any time you considered the potential effects of suppressants. A reprieve from the hiding, the exhaustion, living out of your car or a tent, eating garbage because it was all you could afford—from the constant threat of having your autonomy ripped from your hands.

You relaxed your fists until you felt his grip loosen again, even if only slightly. Your only chance would be to rely on surprise and your speed, there was no other way you’d be able to get away. Forcing your body to relax was a trial though, adrenaline was starting to course through you the more you became used to the effects of the purr. Your scent was still massively dampened by the suppressants, Peter likely wouldn’t be able to smell the shift from fear to anticipation. You bit down on the sluggishly bleeding wound on your tongue, reigniting both the pain and blood flow.

“Alright, last part, we’re almost done and then we’ll get you comfortable, okay?” Bruce was wearing new gloves again, a bottle in hand as he walked back over. "Have you had a pelvic exam before?”

You waited until he was close enough and performed what seemed to be your go to act of defiance: spitting blood directly in his face. He reared back with a short curse, Peter immediately releasing your wrists—his goal was likely to readjust you in his lap, to gain a better hold, but you were fast, faster than an alpha (always faster than alphas, it was all you had). You’d slipped from his lap and darted for the automatic doors before either of them could respond. Running through the woods naked was the lesser evil.

Steel bands. You should’ve noticed, the doors opened too soon for them to be reacting to your presence, you were so focused on getting through. But the moment you did, it felt like steel bands wrapped around your torso, pinning your arms.

The alpha’s scent was like Steve’s—the moment your brain registered it the world went hazy. You were floating, body going limp for a precious few seconds that the alpha used to sweep you into his arms and stalk further into the room. Your senses came back just in time for you to be deposited back into Peter’s lap on the table, a massive blond alpha coming into view for the first time. Your gaze was immediately stuck on his, the heterochromatic eyes nearly hypnotizing. Fighting the daze he put you in was overwhelming, especially when a wide smile split his lips and his cheeks dimpled. One massive hand reached out, almost engulfing the entire lower half of your face.

“Hello little love.” Were alphas always as insanely massive as this one and Steve, or had you just stumbled across literally your worst nightmare? “They told me you’re a flighty thing, I suppose I arrived just in time, hm? Are you going to spit blood in my face as well? It seems to be your calling card.”

The look on your face must’ve betrayed the fact that you were really, really considering it. You had a mouthful of blood and nowhere to put it but his face, honestly. Instead you used the fact that Peter was mostly propping you up to lean over the edge of the table and proceeded to open your mouth, spilling blood down onto the alpha’s shoes nice white shoes.

“I wouldn’t challenge her,” Bruce’s voice drew your attention to where he was using a towel to wipe blood off his glasses, a wry smile and affection clear on his face. "She’s putting a lot of effort into being belligerent.”

The blond alpha rumbled with a grin, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "It’s been a stressful day for her, there’s nothing she can do that will cause any persisting damage anyway. Let her have her little rebellions.”

You wanted to be furious—what kind of asshole looked a person dead in the eyes and called their attempts to escape false imprisonment little rebellions?—but Peter seemed to have realized where your train of thought had gone because he started purring immediately. Your spine went boneless, laying you flat against his chest.

“Can you lean up against the wall with her?” Bruce directed the younger alpha to shift until both of your legs were dangling over the edge, Peter’s back to the wall the table sat against. “You’re going to need to hold her in place, even while you purr. Alright sweetie, let’s get this out of the way. Thor, will you hold her leg please?”

The sound you made was an accident. Desperation and humiliation were crawling up your spine with astounding speed, even with Peter’s purr going like a motorboat and the sound  was making it too hard to think through your instincts. Omega cries were a deliberate counterpart to the noises alphas made; whines and cries and hisses, perfectly pitched to make an alpha’s hindbrain stand at attention. The sound you made was a sharp, chirping whine—distress, distress, distress, help me, help me help m—

“Oh little love,” Thor’s voice had dropped several registers and he gently shuffled Bruce to the side so he could stand in front of you, slipping as close to the table as possible and tugging your legs to rest on either side of his hips and gently running his hands over your skin. “Let’s get you taken care of, you need rest.”

The pheromones he was putting out were meant to calm but you immediately opened your mouth, using the overwhelming scent of your own blood to drown them out. The alpha sighed and stepped aside again, taking your leg with him and spreading your thigh to rest over Peter’s leg with your foot planted on the table. A whine rose in your throat again but you locked it down, instead biting down on your tongue yet again. It was as grounding as it was painful, the tang of it souring your stomach.

It was your last coherent thought, that you were starting to feel nauseous from all of the blood you'd swallowed. Thor began to purr just after that and the sound was entirely devastating, bone deep and you went completely limp, your head falling to the side against Peter’s chest and your shoulders dropping. This is what acid felt like, you were pretty sure.

Your eyes lazily followed Bruce’s path as the doctor took his place between your legs again, lifting the other into a matching position. Some part of you was fully aware of how gut wrenching this was; completely naked and spread wide in front of two alphas and a beta, a situation you’d rather kill yourself than be in, but your brain couldn’t follow any emotional tethers while Thor purred. The doctor was speaking, you could feel his hands manipulating your vulva, but you couldn’t understand anything coming out of his mouth.

Peter’s hand came to your chin and tilted your head back until you could see him, smiling down at you. His mouth moved, your eyes almost able to track the movement of his lips enough to read them but your brain gave up halfway through. The two alphas were chuckling over something but you were distracted by the discomfort of something being inserted into your vagina. A sharp yip escaped your lips, your body still completely boneless as your eyes rolled down.

“It’s a speculum, sweetie, I’m sorry it’s uncomfortable,” it sounded like Bruce was talking underwater and you could almost feel his breath on your thigh, your mind irritatingly unable to think beyond the question 'who just keeps a fucking speculum lying around?' "Just a few more seconds while I get a pap smear.”

More discomfort came before the instrument was removed, another yip leading Peter to purr along side Thor. The rest of the exam was a blur, slippery fingers and pressure and foreign sensations. You could barely think, let alone realize that Bruce was finishing up the manual exam, when your eyes noticed movement behind them. You couldn’t really make out anything, nothing would focus, but you assumed it was Steve and Sam.

There were more voices but you couldn’t hear anything for an indeterminate amount of time. It wasn’t until Thor stopped purring again that you were able to start regaining your senses, as much as the continuous rumbling in Peter’s chest would allow. The difference between the sounds the two alphas produced was marked by your sudden ability to focus your eyes, to concentrate on voices, in the way your muscular control was slowly returning.

You were almost glad the young alpha was still purring—it meant that the spike of terror that tried to shoot through you was somewhat dulled, enough that it wouldn’t show in your scent. Sam and Steve had indeed come in, accompanied by a young woman with long auburn hair and porcelain skin, a beta from the scent. As soon as she made eye contact with you she smiled vibrantly, slipping forward and sneaking between your still spread thighs.

“You’re so beautiful,” she murmured, long fingers stroking absently against your neck as she leaned in, forcing your back tighter against Peter’s chest. "Will you let me see your trauma my love?”

Some sort of red miasma filled your vision, a fog you quickly realized was coming from her hands—and realization slammed into you like a freight train. You seen that before, in passing. And then the recognition made you nauseous—Thor. You didn’t keep up with current events, but certain names you couldn’t miss. Thor, Tony Stark, Captain America. Your eyes flashed to the blond man standing towards the back of the room; Captain America, Steve Rogers.

Desperation shot through your body like you’d been tazed. Your foot shot out of Thor’s hold, the alpha hadn’t been putting any actual effort into holding you still since you’d been so dazed, and connected with the woman’s chest to send her reeling. Before anyone else could respond, your throat rasped for several seconds before a warbling shriek escaped. The four alphas in the vicinity reacted like they’d been shot; Thor and Steve both stumbled back, and Sam’s knees practically gave out, sending him careening into the wall. Behind you, Peter, far too close to the source, immediately went limp.

There were several distress calls an omega could make. Most of the time, they were whines or chirps, noises meant to draw attention from packmates. They were small, careful sounds—nothing loud enough to attract attention from a foreign alpha or delta. Omegas were quarry to be stolen, after all, which was precisely why they had one, singular method of defending themselves against their biggest biological threat and that was a shriek.

When in close proximity, the sound was loud enough and tuned just so to daze an alpha’s hindbrain. The evolutionary explanation was that a loud shriek meant that an omega being confronted by an aggressive alpha could both temporarily stun their attacker and summon assistance—alphas or deltas, far enough away that the negative effects were nullified but within proximity to hear that an omega was in danger. The assumption being, of course, that an omega who shrieked was in danger from a stranger, not a packmate.

It only worked for a very short time though, any alpha or delta in the area would immediately converge on the omega’s location and deal with the problem—it was the reason you hadn’t used it outside. There was no reason for the effects to last when it summoned immediate assistance, though, and that meant you needed to move. You slid off the table, bare feet slapping tile as you just barely managed to dodge Bruce’s grasp. The woman, the witch from the news, was on the floor clutching her sternum.

The stairs were a blur, so was the foyer and the driveway. You hesitated at your car for all of ten seconds before running for the forest; your keys were in the pocket of your jeans, back down in the basement. Abandoning all of your possessions hurt somewhere deep in your heart but there wasn’t any time for sentiment. You had to get away, quickly.

Luckily the woods had become your home a long time ago. You moved between the trees silently, feet so heavily calloused from constantly going barefoot that you didn’t even notice the twigs and sharp stones digging into your flesh. Your brain shot into overtime. You needed to steal clothes, then cash. You’d lived with nothing for years, you could do it again for however long you needed to. The only thing you really needed was suppressants; everything else was a luxury.

You assumed they were behind you, you’d been running for a good three minutes. The straight path meant they could follow you easier but the goal had to be the maximum distance possible rather than the most strategic pattern. Your only advantage was being fast and you had no choice but to rely on it, especially since your hindbrain was wailing with every step you took. The suppressants were the only reason you could do it at all, the trade off for quieting those damn instincts being a tolerable mildness of character that did not appreciate the constant, incessant shriek of your baser self while you were trying to focus. 

All you had to do was keep quiet until you could find one of the creeks running through the forest—so close to Lake Superior there was water everywhere. You would run through the creek in several different places, to mask your scent and make it difficult to follow. It wouldn’t be hard to find a hunting blind or shack, a hole in the ground was better than going back there. The moment your eyes caught on running water you dove into it, covering yourself with mud before jumping back up to continue running.  

Captain America was super fast and you’d bet the rest of them were similar if not the same and you needed more distance. Somewhere in the back of your mind, prey behavior was setting in. Natural selection had driven your existence, you were the result of thousands of years of evolution, and the life you’d lived meant you were far more adapted to being hunted than most omegas. You were vulnerable but not helpless and as you coated yourself in more mud from a different part of the creek, chemosensory instincts started rattling through you.  

They were coming. Your scent was inhibited by the suppressant’s and that made it harder for them to follow you but they were doing their best. Combined with the water and the mud, your scent was very difficult to pin down, even for a super soldier. You contemplated climbing a tree to hide, but the insane memory of how keen the noses of the pack following you were spurred you on. You kept running, covering yourself in mud two more times, before finding a tree with a massive tangle of roots at the bottom. Fighting whatever creature had made a home down there was worth it—it went deep, was heavily covered by underbrush and detritus from the trees, but most importantly it was surrounded by wild bergamot in full bloom.  

It smelled lovely, spicy and floral with a citrusy overtone. You crawled through the dirt, wiggling between the roots and carefully avoiding crushing any plants or branches that could give you away. Whatever lived in there was out, likely foraging, and you took the creature’s absence to your advantage and pressed as far back into the hole as possible.  

You weren’t tired, despite the long, exhausting day and the fucking trauma. Another small grace that adaption had provided was that once an omega began producing adrenaline, sleep became unnecessary—it was actually considered a very unenviable omega trait in the general population, but you’d found it’s uses worth the unpleasant side effects. Your heart would continue to race for the next several hours, your pupils wouldn’t return to normal for potentially days and your blood sugar had sky rocketed and that was going to be a nightmare for how ever long it lasted. 

The waiting was going to hurt—there was nothing to pass the time and you had to actively focus on not being terrified or your omega scent could seep through, oh, what was it now? Five coats of mud from the creek, a significant amount of bergamot, and fifteen years of whatever the fuck suppressants did to your scent over time.

It wasn’t ten minutes later that you heard them. Stealth wasn’t their objective, that was clear from the amount of noise they made. You could hear Steve and Peter calling your name, although you didn’t know how they knew it. Thor was speaking, his tone low but certainly not quiet. They weren’t even moving that fast, walking almost leisurely.

“She’ll need to bathe and eat. Clint and Natasha are finishing up in New York. Steve, have you heard from Tony or Bucky? Carol?”  

“Tony’s wrapping up, should be flying over pretty soon. Carol and Bucky were on their way up but I gave them a list of things to grab while they’re going through the bigger cities. Shouldn’t be too much longer for them either though.” 

Steve and Thor were different than Sam or Peter. You couldn’t pin down exactly what had set your teeth on edge, but the scent the two blond alphas gave off was different. Their pheromones were worse, more infectious. Eye contact with Steve had made your hindbrain beg to go to him, regardless of the rationality you could usually manage thanks to the suppressants. You could remember the feel of Thor’s hand on like it was seared into your skin instead, you wanted him to never not be touching you ever again—

If you could’ve slapped yourself without making noise you would’ve. The stupid omega in your brain, that dumb, easy cunt was going to get you killed. You sealed your lips, clenched your teeth and tucked your hands under your bent knees. Night was starting to fall to your benefit, the shadows were getting darker. You were so far back they would have to crouch down and crawl half way in to see you.

If you could keep your wits until they passed you could double back, trying to find your keys would be a wash but you could grab clothes from the back of your ancient Tahoe. You weren’t sure how long you’d been in the basement, but you didn’t think it was long enough for them to have gone through your things.

“Could she have gotten this far?” You held your breath as Sam stopped far too close to your hiding place for comfort.

“Omegas are fast and she seemed faster than most,” Bruce answered. “We’ll know for sure once her blood work comes back, but from her physiology I’d say she presents as a classical omega. She’s probably the first in her family in a long, long time. To have a scream that loud in this day and age? The omega gene must’ve been skipped so long that there was no chance for it to adapt to modern omega qualities.”

“There’ve been some studies suggesting that the classical omega attributes are making a come back in the general population,” Peter’s voice came from much farther away. "They haven’t been peer reviewed enough yet and they haven’t been replicated en masse because they don’t have enough subjects, alphas aren’t exactly thrilled to have their omegas studied, but—”

“The lack of data aside, I assume there’s a correlation between the alphas willing to allow their omegas to participate and the behavior of the omega in question. Do you think—”

“Focus, Bruce,” Steve’s voice was light with affection. "The point is that yes, she could’ve gotten this far or farther. The way she keeps running into the creek is messing up the footprints and—”

Their voices faded as they continued the same linear path you’d been running earlier. The fact that they didn’t even sound a little concerned that you could get away was both insulting and unnerving. You didn’t need alphas having that kind of confidence regarding your behavior—and why weren’t they moving any faster? The paranoia was immediate and overwhelming, what did they know about that you didn’t? Something they assumed would hinder you farther along in the woods? Something they were planning for when they found you? When.

You forced yourself to count slowly to six hundred, waiting what you hoped was a full ten minutes before silently crawling out of your hide. Their scents were everywhere, you could smell where Sam had been standing almost directly over the opening in the roots. They were still too close for comfort and you turned, running back through the forest. Your feet were starting to feel sore, usually you’d at least watch where you stepped but there just wasn’t time—you had to get away before they could enact their plans.

The clearing the cabin sat in was coming up and you forced yourself to slow as you approached the tree line, keeping a careful eye out for the beta woman. You couldn’t remember what her call sign was, something to do with witches, and you definitely didn’t want her using that red magic stuff on your head.

The extra seconds of waiting paid off, watching her pace the porch for a few moments before her phone rang. She answered, walking inside and closing the doors behind her. You didn’t wait an extra second, darting across the clearing to where you car was sitting in the driveway with the trunk popped. They must’ve started going through your things but stopped part of the way through.

You could see one of your go bags though, squished between your rolled up sleeping bag and tent. The straps of the bag squeaked with how hard you yanked it out, hesitating slightly—instinct told you to leave the sleeping bag, but you’d grown used to the luxury of it and leaving the stupid thing behind made you decidedly sad. You tossed the straps of the go bag over your shoulder and turned away, knowing it would slow you down and—

There was an Iron Man suit standing directly behind you, gauntlets rested on the hips and the head cocked to the side. You froze, as if staying still could prevent it from noticing you. Fuck, you hoped there wasn’t a man in there. A stupid thought, you considered as you stared silently, trying to decide if there was any way out. Hope was a joke at this point but you didn’t have anything else.

“Hi princess,” it was a distinctly human voice, if filtered. "Hope I didn’t miss too much of the fun.”

  content warning: nonconsensual medical procedures, general noncon touching/assault.

edited 7/9/21 - still on hiatus

[heytherejulietx]

Im gonna combine. Bughead + Hogwarts and Soulmates

Never Had Enough Time - Bughead

Masterlists

Requests open!

Read on AO3 here!

Notes - So uh, I apologise in advance for this. It was way sadder than I originally intended it to be - I think I went a bit overboard since I haven’t written anything Hogwarts related since Christmas. But enjoy. And I’m sorry Sara. :)

Prompts - Hogwarts / Soulmate AU.

Warnings - Major character death, death, brief mention of suicidal thoughts, battle.

Word count - 3.5k.

Riverdale tag list - @bucky-j-barnes @adorably-sweet-hufflepuff @kpopgirlbtssvt @booksmusicteaandanimals @happy-puff @cheryllclayton @jesso80 @dietbreadloaf @thebluetint @lilireinhartsimp @camiczzzz @bitchy-broken @crazyninjalight @luella-cane @literarygetaway21 @hopeversusillusions @bc-jh22 @happygmc8

To join my tag list fill out this form.

From the moment he’d started being friends with Betty, Jughead knew that she was his soulmate. There was no way that she couldn’t be. The sweet Hufflepuff girl who had woven her way into his heart by the middle of their first year was his absolute favourite person; she meant the world to him. The way that Soulmates had been taught to them in class matched up with everything he felt with Betty. The adoration, the comfort, the longing to always be with her. It was a way that he had never imagined he could feel about someone before he had met her.

So when it was nearing his sixteenth birthday he knew his theory about them being soulmates would be proven with the timer that would appear on his wrist. He wasn’t so fussed about the timer itself; the countdown to when his soulmate would die hadn’t even crossed his mind as he couldn’t ever imagine losing Betty. He could picture them somewhere away from Hogwarts married and living together; happy. She couldn’t die before they were grey haired and had grandchildren and had lived an amazing life together. No, he wasn’t worried about that. He was just excited to see the timer on his wrist, the timer that would only appear if he had met his soulmate.

He had waited for it the whole of September before his birthday, excitedly talking with Betty about how it could finally be confirmed that they were soulmates. He could picture her excited smile perfectly as he thought about it; the way her giant green eyes lit up as she looked up at him with her huge beautiful smile. She was perfect.

When he woke up on the morning of his birthday, after Sweet Pea had hit him with his pillow on his way out of the dormitories with a shout of “happy birthday, Jones”, as soon as he was coherent enough to do so he sat up and looked down at his wrist.

And his heart fell into his stomach as the air was knocked out of his lungs.

Betty Cooper - 1 year, 238 days.

He didn’t even realise he was shaking until his arm was moving so much that he could barely read the writing embedded into his wrist. It had to be wrong, there was no way that it could be true. Betty couldn’t die, she just couldn’t. It was impossible that someone so perfect and sweet and angelic could just die. There had to be a mistake with the timer, it had to be wrong.

With his eyes blurring with tears he lifted up his hand and harshly rubbed the skin of his wrist, as if he could rub away some sort of mistake. He rubbed the skin until it was red and sore, though nothing changed.

Betty had a year left of her life.

It took him almost an hour before he could show his face from his dorm and head down to the Great Hall. He’d managed to convince himself that the timer was wrong, and later in the day he’d find a book about it in the library. But he had to show his face at some point, aside from Christmas his birthday was one of Betty’s favourite days, and he had to see her. Especially since he might not have that much time left with her.

When she spotted him walking into the Great Hall she immediately sat up with a smile, and it caused his chest to ache to see her so happy now that he knew the time she had left.

Jughead had decided that Betty couldn’t know. He didn’t want her to live the last of her life in fear of when and how she would die. He wanted her to be happy and to enjoy herself. She only deserved to be happy from that moment onwards.

“Hey, what took you so long?” Betty asked as he walked towards the Hufflepuff table as usual, taking his normal seat beside her with a false smile so she wouldn’t know something was wrong.

“Sorry, slept in.” Jughead somehow managed to fake a smile as he put his arm around her once he was seated, dropping a kiss to her forehead which caused her to blush pink and smile bashfully at the action.

“Happy Birthday!” Betty smiled fondly as she moved her arms around his waist, and he smiled a little genuinely as he felt the warmth coming from her body. “So, what does it say?” She gestured to his wrist and he almost blanched.

Nobody but him could see the timer, to make it that much worse, so he had to keep it to himself.

“We’re definitely soulmates.” He smiled slightly, and Betty grinned as she hugged him that much tighter, giggling into his robe as he tried to hug her back.

“I knew it! That’s great! It’s official!” Betty grinned, and he had to try not to break down as he hugged her back, resting his chin on the top of her head as he closed his eyes.

-

In the time from his birthday to Betty’s, Jughead had done everything to try to figure out what could be wrong with his tattoo. With every book he read and every wizard or witch he spoke to, the answer was always the same; the timer was never wrong. After a few days of looking at it he couldn’t bare it anymore, so he constantly kept a black band covering his timer so he could never see it. It hurt too much to even think about.

As her birthday grew closer, Jughead was hoping for another option. If she was going to die so soon, he wanted to as well. He couldn’t live when she wasn’t around. It physically hurt him to think about having to live through her death and carry on while she was gone. If she was going to die, so would he.

Jughead was almost more nervous for her birthday than he had been for his own. Every time her timer was brought up he only had one thought.

Please let mine be the same as hers. Please let me die too.

But on her birthday morning when he walked into the great hall and met her beaming smile from the Hufflepuff table, his heart fell again and he knew that he wouldn’t get the luxury of dying with her.

“Seventy-six years!” Betty had assured his worst thought as he sat down, and he almost threw up. Seventy five years without her was like his own personal hell.

-

Jughead did everything he could to make Betty happy.

He took her to Hogsmeade, he stayed with her and her family at Christmas, and during school was always found by her side. And with every day that passed it ended with his terrible thoughts reminding him that it was all just leading one day closer to her death.

During summer at the end of his sixth year, he knew that he couldn’t go any longer without letting Betty know how he truly felt. All of the love he had for her, that of course she shared as they were soulmates - he had to act on it.

They always had a booth to themselves on the Hogwarts Express at the back of the train; away from loud students and loose pets and Weasley Wizard Wheezes pranks that could probably set them on fire (he’d seen it happen to Sweet Pea once). He always gave Betty the window seat because he knew that she liked to watch the scenery blur by when she wasn’t looking at him.

They’d been on the train for ten minutes and he was a nervous wreck. His palms were sweating and suddenly his tie felt too tight around his neck and he could hear his heartbeat in his ears. It shouldn’t be that hard; they were soulmates for Merlin’s sake, of course she wasn’t going to not like him.

Taking in a deep breath he turned to face Betty, meeting her wide green eyes with his blue ones.

“Betts?” He asked, and she smiled as she hummed and tilted her head a little in questioning.

He swallowed and paused. He physically couldn’t make himself say anything, it was like his lips were glued shut. Instead of trying to force out some words, which he knew would just end in a bunch of word vomit which wouldn’t seem very lovely at all, he lifted his hand up and placed it on her cheek, giving her time to pull away if she wanted, before he leaned in and kissed her. And she kissed him back.

It was like bliss. The air almost completely left his lungs when she felt her smile pressed against his lips, and her hands against his neck as she pulled herself closer to him. She tasted like strawberry lip balm and lemon sherbet and she was so close he could smell her vanilla perfume. It was all making him light-headed.

He pulled away after a moment, and sighed softly as his forehead just pressed against hers. She was warm against his skin as her hand grasped his, and he had to smile as he let his lips press to her temple before he mumbled against her skin quietly in a hushed tone.

“I love you.”

Her dainty hand squeezed his back, and he looked down to meet her eyes and soft smile. “I love you too, Juggie.”

-

After that, he couldn’t be separated from her. He spent practically all summer with the Coopers - a weird experience on his end as Betty was a muggleborn, and Jughead was a pureblood so he had only ever known magical households - and when they were back at school he spent all of his possible time with her. He only wanted to make her happy; to make sure that she would have the best possible year of her life.

With each day that passed he felt more and more sick at the thought of losing her, and the thought of being left without her. He found himself getting more and more upset as the days passed, and often cried himself to sleep every night at the thought of what was to come the following May. Though he never once let Betty see - he didn’t want her to find out and ruin the last few months she had left of her life.

“I really need to get going to bed, if I get caught out after hours I’ll be in trouble.” Betty giggled as Jughead tried to kiss her again, and wriggled out from his arms so she could stand up from the couch in the Slytherin common room. If she was caught out after hours she would be more than just in trouble - with Professor Snape taking the place of Albus Dumbledore, Hogwarts had been all but miserable, and even dangerous for students who went out of line. Though Jughead had given Betty every single secret passage and shortcut through Hogwarts that he knew so she could get back to the Hufflepuff dormitories safely.

Jughead pouted playfully and Betty laughed softly again, a sound that marked him smile.

“I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” Betty smiled, and Jughead nodded as he reached forwards to take her hands, using them to pull her down just enough so that he could kiss her for a long moment.

By the time he pulled away her cheeks were flushed pink and she was smiling a little flustered, and he couldn’t help but be stunned by how beautiful she was.

“Okay. Goodnight Betty. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Betty smiled and gently squeezed his hand before she walked towards the exit of the common room, blowing him a kiss before she left.

And then he was alone. Things were so much worse when he was alone.

Jughead didn’t move from his place on the couch, and just let his head fall into his hands as his eyes closed. Another day passed, one closer until the twenty-eighth of May, when Betty was going to die.

He didn’t even realise he was crying until his throat was thick and his palms were wet against his face. Jughead wasn’t even sure he could make it to May. It was killing him on the inside knowing that Betty was going to die. Part of him still wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but deep down he knew it couldn’t be stopped.

“Jones?”

Jughead looked up through his fingers at the voice, taking in a deep breath to calm himself, though just sighed when he saw Toni hovering by the couch.

Slytherin’s head girl Toni Topaz was probably one of his closest friends. And she was the only other person who knew about Betty’s timer.

“Are you here to kick me up to bed?” Jughead mumbled into his hands with a quiet sniffle, and let his head drop back down into his hands as he heard Toni sigh.

He felt the couch dip beside him before her arm wrapped around him, and he started crying again. Toni didn’t say anything as she rubbed his back, and Jughead appreciated the silent comfort she gave. There was no point in talking about it, because nothing was going to change. Nothing that anybody could say would change what would happen. Betty was going to die and nothing would change it.

-

The rest of the year came and went all too quickly. And as time passed, life at Hogwarts only got worse under the new headmaster. Though even in the darkest of times, Betty still managed to stay positive and happy. Jughead made sure to be with her as often as he could, and one thing he had to credit her for was how she was always so optimistic, even in the darkest of times. Even when they had experienced the most awful day, Betty still managed to make him smile. And it made him fall in love with her even more.

May came too quick, and Jughead spent every second with her. He even resorted to staying in the Hufflepuff dorms with her (after everyone had gone to sleep so he wouldn’t be caught) and even willingly went through his punishment of the Cruciatus Curse when he got caught. Twice. He didn’t tell Betty about that, though, because he would go through it a hundred times just to spend the last month or her life with her.

He walked and met her from every class, ate meals with her, slept with her; he made sure she would be happy.

And then everything went to hell.

Jughead hadn’t even remembered how it had all started, he had been so focused on watching the timer on his wrist go to just hours left, but Hogwarts was being attacked. Severely.

Everything was a mess. Teachers and advanced students were heading out to fight the Death Eaters and countless evil creatures that were breaking into the castle. But none of that mattered to Jughead, as the timer on his wrist changed from hours to minutes; he couldn’t find Betty.

He ran through the castle, avoiding blasts and curses being shot his way that he quickly deflected, despite some injury that came to his way. He met with Toni at the top of the staircase, and after a conversation with her, she told him she had seen Betty in the courtyard.

His legs had never moved so fast as they did in that moment, rushing against the clock to be with her as the timer scrolled down to just ten minutes. Jughead felt sick to his stomach as he ran, pushing past the ache in his body just to be with her. He knew what he had to do.

He caught a sight of blonde hair in the courtyard as five minutes and yelled her name, catching her in his arms as soon as he had reached her.

Betty was sobbing into his robes as she gripped onto him and he held her tightly, promising that it would all be okay. She leaned back from his chest, with tear-stained cheeks and a cut along her eyebrow, and gripped his collar tightly as she leaned up to kiss him. Their last kiss.

Two minutes came around and his hand gripped hers tightly as they ran inside, both of them deflecting any curses that came their way. He didn’t once let go of her hand as he pulled her through the castle, stopping underneath one of the staircase where they couldn’t be seen from one angle.

One minute came and Jughead dropped his wand as he pulled Betty into her arms, kissing her at least five times as he held her tightly, tears in his own eyes. “I love you so much.” He whispered into her hair, and she gripped onto him tightly.

“I love you too Juggie.” Betty whimpered, her eyes meeting his, before they widened as she looked past him at a Death Eater that was stood there, his wand pointed right at her.

Everything went too quick, a blur of colours and actions. The green curse blasted out from his wand right towards Betty, and Jughead held his breath as he moved quickly; pushing Betty out of the way right in time for the green curse to hit him instead.

-

“Jughead!” Toni yelled as she grabbed his arm, stopping him from where he was running to.

His eyes were wide and panicked as he stumbled a little, stopping as her smaller hand grabbed his arm. He didn’t have time for this, he needed to find Betty before it was too late.

“Toni I can’t- Betty-“

“That’s what I need to talk to you about!” Toni rushed, pulling him behind a wall so they could have some safety. “I know it’s today, Jughead, I’ve been trying to find you all day! I found a book in the restricted section that spoke about soulmates and the timer, and it says that someone can take the place of their soulmate and swap their timers if they die instead of them!”

Jughead felt all the air leave his lungs at the news. Betty could live instead of him. Betty could live.

“You have to be with her! I saw her in the courtyard!”

Jughead quickly pulled Toni into a hug, knowing it would be the last time she ever saw him. He mumbled a goodbye against her head and tried to ignore the way she was crying as he pulled back from the hug and ran towards the courtyard to find Betty.

-

His body dropped to the floor and Betty screamed. She didn’t see the spell cast towards the Death Eater that killed them so she didn’t die too, all she could see was Jughead crumpled on the floor.

“No no no, Jug!” Betty screamed as she fell on her knees by his side, her hands cupping his cheeks. He couldn’t die. He still had so many years left. He wasn’t dead.

But when she glanced at her arm the timer had changed. It had one number - zero.

She was shaking as she gripped onto his robes, tears flooding down her cheeks as she cried his name. The battle around her was far from her mind as she shook his body, his limp body not moving no matter how hard she shook him.

Once the battle was over, and his body had been moved to the Great Hall with all of the other bodies, Toni found Betty kneeling by his body. The head girl took a seat beside the Hufflepuff and told her everything; about Jughead’s timer, how badly he had felt for the past year, how she had told him he could die instead. Betty didn’t know what to say in response - she couldn’t say anything. It all hurt too much to try to even talk about it. Toni held her as she started crying again, allowing the blonde to sob into her shoulder as she continued gripping onto Jughead’s now cold hand.

Betty had imagined their lives one day in the future. They would have a house in the English countryside with two boys that looked just like Jughead and a ginger cat that slept on the end of their bed. Their house would always be full of laughter and joy, and they would both love each other as much then as they did when they were teenagers.

But that would never happen, Betty realised with a pain in her chest that was worse than any of those curses that she could have been hit with. They never had enough time.

[shoutaaizawas]

↳ chisaki kai x reader → ❝wounds❞

series: hero!au villains summary: chisaki kai is a healer at your hero agency that you love to annoy. when a big battle breaks out you’re surprised to see that he can do more than just heal people word count: 2.4k tags/warnings: blood mention, injuries, light angst a/n: im finally back! i hope this came out okay i had to finish it on my old laptop. this is my first time writing for overhaul so i hope you enjoy!

Chisaki Kai loved you. Okay, that was a lie if you were being honest. You drove him crazy but it was so much fun you couldn’t stop yourself from it. Chisaki was a healer at your agency and you were very clumsy and reckless so it was safe to say that you visited him quite often.

“Oh Chisaki, I’ve been injured.” You said entering his office. He let out a groan of annoyance as he looked up from his paperwork.

“What did you do this time?” He said opening the door that led to the medical room.

You happily followed him sitting down on the examination table, feet swinging like a kid.

“Well, what happened was I was fighting a villain and he said-” You loved testing his patience, you knew it was wrong but it was so endearing to see the annoyed looks he gave you as you gave him far more details than necessary.

“The injury.” He cut you off, his eyes intense over his medical mask.

“Oh, right.” You said as you pulled up your sleeve to reveal a large gash in your arm. “Knife wound.”

Chisaki inspected it carefully writing down some notes on his clipboard. It was more of a formality than anything. His quirk was able to heal anything with no issue but the agency insisted he keep a record of injuries and for him to not bother healing things too small that would be considered a waste of his quirk.

After a moment he put the clipboard down before placing his hand gently below the cut on your arm. In just a second the skin was mended back together as it had never been torn in the first place.

“Thank you, doc.” You said with a big smile on your face. Sometimes it was hard to gauge his expression under the mask.

“I’m not a doctor. Try not to be back too soon.” He said as he put his glove back on and picked his clipboard up.

“Aw, do you not like seeing me?” You teased as you stood up.

“I don’t like seeing you hurt.” He said plainly as he turned back to his office.

You stood there in silence, shocked by his words. Chisaki was indifferent at best, you hadn’t expected him to say that. Was there a chance he liked you back? No, he was just being a healer concerned for the heroes under his charge.

Oh yeah, you liked Chisaki. Like liked him. Developing feelings for Chisaki was not something you expected to do. At first, you were almost scared of the man. You had considering limping home to take care of your wounds on your own but the hero you had been a sidekick for at the time wouldn’t allow it.

At first, you thought he was scary but you realized he was just a bit grumpy. After a few visits of observing his odd behavior, the gloves, and mask on all the time, a coworker explained that he had mysophobia. A fear of contamination and germs. It made you respect him even more, he could have easily hidden away from the world and all the things that made him uncomfortable. He had an amazing quirk, the ability to reconstruct wounds with just a touch. It had healed a lot of people and even saved their lives.

Chisaki didn’t just work in the office at your agency but he worked on the scene during big disasters and worked at different hospitals. No doubt that was all very stressful for him, especially since it required to contact for him to heal people, but he did it so he could help people.

Once you got more comfortable with him it was easy to fall into teasing him. While he always replied with an annoyed demeanor he never stopped you so you assumed it didn’t bother him that much.

At first, you didn’t even realize you liked him like that. You just thought you enjoyed teasing him. It was until you realized just how eager you were to see him. It wasn’t unusual for you to stop by his office with a paper cut and pretend like you were dying. He would sigh before standing up and pulling off his glove and healing it. It didn’t escape your notice that he would heal your wounds no matter how small, even if you were joking.

Then you started to realize how your face would heat up when he got close to you to heal you. How even on your worst day just catching a glimpse of him made it better. How your mind drifted to him any chance it got. How he even made it into your dreams.

The thing was, you were a confident person. Being a hero it helped to be confident in yourself, in your abilities, in as many things as you could but relationships were where that confidence stopped. He was a coworker, what if he told you it would be uncomfortable to date a colleague? What if he just didn’t like you back? What if he disliked you? There were so many bad scenarios in your head.

It was safer to do nothing, at least then you could hold onto the interactions you had with him.

Now if someone asked you to explain your thinking at this exact moment you weren’t sure what to say. You probably weren’t thinking at all. The gash in your abdomen was deep and you were most likely in shock.

Blood dripped onto the floor as you tried to make it to your office. Your hand gripped against the hallway wall trying to keep yourself steady.

“What the hell?” You heard a familiar voice. “What happened? Why aren’t you in my office?”

Hands gripped at your shoulders. Blurry eyes moved up to look at Chisaki.

“Hey there, how’s your day going?” You asked before your knees gave out. Chisaki grabbed you before you could hit the ground. If you were more coherent you would be impressed at how easily he swept you off your feet into his arms and you would have been flustered.

He carried you into his office placing you down on his couch, his hands pulling up your shirt to look at the wound. He took in a breath at the sight of it before he placed his hand just below the wound. You let out a hiss of pain before it disappeared just leaving the mess of blood behind.

“Thanks, doc.” You said with a lazy grin, still out of it.

“What were you thinking? Where were you going?” He asked with an edge to his town.

“Uh, I don’t really know. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You’ll come in here with a paper cut but you decided that was the wound to ignore?” He huffed standing up and grabbing a wet cloth. He returned wiping away the blood. You tried to get up once he was done but he pushed you back down. “Stay here, you need rest. The wound his healed but you still lost a lot of blood.”

Chisaki left again before returning with water and a snack. He pulled his chair over to sit at your side, watching as you drank the water.

"You should be more careful." He said.

"Believe it or not I do try." You said with a smirk. "Hero work tends to be a bit dangerous."

"I know but you seem to be in here more than anyone else." He said.

"I am clumsy." You defended.

"I don't think clumsy gets you a wound like that." He countered.

"It might." You joked.

"Be more careful." He said. "And don't try to hide a wound like this again." His voice sounded serious.

"For you, of course."

The day had started pretty normally. Hero work was surprisingly redundant at times. Petty crime was easy to manage and helping out where you could was nice but as a seasoned hero, you knew better.

Things could take a turn in a split second and that's exactly what happened. An explosion rang out blocks away and just like that you were headed into the chaos.

It was bad. Casualties were already seen and the dust hadn't settled. Your injuries were bad but you wouldn't give in, not yet. Blood dripped down your mouth and pain burned everywhere, you weren't even sure where your worst injuries were.

You braced yourself against the side of a building that collapsed as you faced off against the villain. You kept on a bold front despite your state but you weren't sure how you could pull this off.

Another blow and you tumbled across the ground before landing harshly. You let out a shaky breath as your lungs filled with air after the wind being knocked out of you. As you tried to get up your arm collapsed beneath you.

Winning the fight and keeping people safe had been the objective but at this point, you weren't sure you'd make it out alive.

"What a joke." The villain said.

"Stay down." That wasn't a voice you expected. Your eyes drifted up to see Chisaki.

"It's dangerous," You said, a cough interrupting your words blood dripping down your chin. "Get back to safety." You tried to get up but you had no strength left.

"It's okay, just don't move." His voice was oddly confident considering he was a healer about to face a villain. Weirdly enough you felt a sense of comfort drift over you. "I'll be back for you in a moment."

It was hard for you to watch but you turned as much as you could waiting in anticipation to see what would happen. You felt helpless knowing that you couldn't do anything.

What happened next was the last thing you ever thought you would see. Chisaki was able to manipulate the stone around him with just a touch. As fast as the fight started it was over.

How had you never realized that his quirk was more than just mending wounds?

More heroes came to capture the villain taking him away as Chisaki returned to your side. At your side he pulled you onto his lap, it was nice. Your eyes drifted closed.

"Hey, stay with me, okay?" He said, his voice more panicked than you had ever heard it before. A hand pressed against you and your wounds began to be relieved. You let out a hum. The intense pain began to leave. "I need to wait to heal the rest."

Chisaki stood, taking you in his arms. This was the second time and you'd admit you wouldn't mind it happening more often. Although if it took being this injured to be held by him then you might need to reconsider that. You could tell you were still bruised badly, he could only heal so much at once. It wasn't because of his quirk but rather the person being healed. It was shocking to the body for so much trauma to just disappear.

Before you could realize it you were drifting off to sleep.

Waking up you weren't expecting to be in your own bed. The pains you had felt before were fully relieved now. Opening your eyes fully you certainly weren't expecting Chisaki to be sitting beside your bed.

"You're finally awake." He said in a soft voice.

"Your quirk," It didn't escape you that he had been hiding a part of him, maybe hiding was the wrong word. Withholding. "I didn't know you could do that."

"My quirk isn't healing or even manipulating organic material." He said. "I can disassemble and reassemble anything."

"Wow." You said. "That's amazing. Why do you only heal then?"

"I don't like that side of me." He said in a serious voice. "I know it can be used for good, if I hadn't used it today you would be dead and probably many more. It feels better to use it to heal people."

"I understand." You said.

"You do?" He said looking up with a surprised expression.

"Of course." You replied. "Violence can be used to help, to save people but it's still violence. Not everyone is comfortable with it. Everyone has different quirks and different histories. Only you can decide what you want to use your quirk for and healing is the best thing you can do to help people."

"People usually think I'm wasting it, or that I'm bad for not doing more to help people." He said.

"No one has to do anything with their quirk, we could both be accountants but we're here trying our best to help." You replied.

"Thank you." He said in a soft voice. This had to be the most serious conversation you'd ever had with him.

"I should be saying that to you, I'd be long gone if you hadn't shown up." You said with a small laugh.

"I was really worried about you." He said with a sigh.

"Really?" Worrying didn't mean anything, you were friends.

Chisaki looked conflicted for a moment before letting out a frustrated breath.

"I- I like you." He finally said looking up at you again. "I know that it's not appropriate, we work together but I can't help it. I look forward to seeing you but I hate that it's only when you're hurt. I hate seeing you hurt even if it's just a scratch. I want to see you and not because you're hurt or we're at work."

"Oh." You said, stunned by his admission. "I didn't think you felt the same way. To be honest I started looking for any reason to see you. I really like you too."

Chisaki smiled and you just about died. You had never seen him smile before and you were almost certain it was the most perfect thing you had ever seen.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, a tint of pink on his cheeks. You smiled big.

"You don't have to ask." You said.

Chisaki stood up moving to your side, hand brushing from your hair to your cheek to the side of your neck. He looked so comfortable touching you which meant a lot considering his fears. Leaning down his lips met yours.

Separating you were breathless and both smiling. You grabbed him by his shirt pulling him into the bed with you. You realized how impulsive that was but the laugh he let out not only shocked you but let you know he wasn't upset.

"Can you stay with me?" You asked. "I don't want to be alone."

"Of course." He said leaning in for another kiss.

"If you want to see me outside of your office I think we need to set up a date." You said teasingly, lips brushing his.

"Friday at seven?" He said.

"Sounds perfect." You said kissing him again.

@sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkglovesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh  @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki @curiouslilbeast @izukukozume

[toosicktoocare]

OKAY SO IM CURRENTLY VERY INTO MANDALORIAN. and i’ve been thinking of a point in time where maybe din & grogu are alone, off in space somewhere or grounded on a planet, and din gets sick, assuming he can take care of himself. but it turns into something much more serious, and eventually grogu manages to find the distress button and cara or someone gets it, and can’t contact din so they go to find him and help him because the poor baby has exhausted himself trying force heal? something in that vein! (i’m a big fan of all your stuff btw!! keep up the good work!)

I’m going to have this set in between seasons 1 and 2, so I’m going to go with Cara and Greef Karga. 

It’s becoming apparent to Din that he’s struggling to discern between the most basic of concepts. Take up from down as an example: When he looks up, if anything to just determine if it’s still day or if his world has blurred to night, his vision doubles vertically. The image of the sky above him, sometimes darker than any shade of black he’s ever seen and sometimes bright enough to burn his skin past his helmet, splits into two wavery scenes, and the bottom half is heavy. It presses against his neck until his head is lolling downward, and suddenly, he’s looking at a snow-covered ground and not the sky. Wasn’t he just looking up?

What’s less apparent, at least to Din, is how he exclusively underestimated this virus, or rather, how severely he overestimated his sheer ability to care for himself. 

It started as a nusicance poking at the back of his throat, nothing more yet nothing less. It was a minor, scratching pain that was only present enough to make sure he was aware of it. He considered that he was getting sick, but under the guise that he’s far too preoccupied to be ill, he brushed it off as allergies. Sure, his helmet’s filters are incredibly advanced, but, he’s still one to succumb to seasonal allergies. 

But, as quick as pushing the Crest into hyperdrive, his symptoms heightened until they were plowing over him, pushing against every muscle, bringing aching pain that dances amongst heat that could melt the snow beneath him and amongst the ice that could frighten the chill around him. 

Terrible, which is the only word his muddy mind can supply, doesn’t seem to bring justice to whatever foreign virus is running rampant through his insides. It’s vicious, all-consuming, and more than anything, he wants to sleep. He wants to yank his helmet off, toss it far away from the heat coloring his cheeks, and he wants to curl up on a cot and sleep until this virus runs it’s course, which, right now he’s thinking, might truly be eternity. 

A small, shaky coo brings forth a brief, harsh burst of clarity, and Din looks down to see the kid tapping lightly on his leg. He should bend down and pick the kid up because, per the inconsistent temperature spikes his body’s currently exhibiting, he’s suddenly well aware of how cold it is, and he shouldn’t be making the kid walk in the snow. Bending, however, requires a movement that, for him, appears as climbing down a mountain. And then, he’ll have to climb back up, with added weight. 

He drops heavily to one knee, and then he teeters. He tries to reach out to the kid, to snag him, but gravity’s conspiring with the virus, and he’s not aware that he’s fallen onto his side until the cold of the snow beneath him begins to chill his armor. 

He opens his eyes, and the kid’s poking at his helmet, dark eyes crowding his vision. Din’s not one for reading expressions, but, if he had to guess, he’d easily say the kid’s worried for him. 

Shit. 

“Sorry, kid,” he rasps out, and he doesn’t even recognize his voice. It sounds heavy, just like the rest of him. Heavy, tired, and shaky. He tries to push himself up because he has to. 

He’s not sure if the kid can understand him, but he promised food nevertheless. He intentionally landed the Crest a miles walk from a small village, and he has to make it there. For the kid. 

The second his arm’s supporting his weight, he blacks out. 

He’s not sure how long this time, but when he pries his eyes open, his helmet’s beginning to frost over, and the kid’s focused in front of his vision, both small hands raised, eyes closed, and face scrunched up. Din thinks he’s seen this before, but then the pain in his head is reminding him that unconsciousness is much better, and he’s drifitng off. 

He wakes the second time to shouts that he can’t quite make out, shouts that carry across a too-cold wind. He’s freezing, yet, the skin stretched across his face is relishing in the ice creeping underneath his helmet. The kid’s still in front of him, but he’s no longer standing, and his large, dark eyes are drooping. Something’s wrong, Din thinks. He reaches one hand out, his glove brushing against the kid’s foot, and then he’s being dragged underneath the virus once more. 

When he wakes again, it’s because he’s warm, and though his mind is struggling to wrap around sentences that are even remotely coherent, he knows that the warmth isn’t normal, considering he’d almost gotten used to the cold. 

Still, it’s not unwelcome, by any means. It’s comfortable, the only comfort against his otherwise struggling core, and he’s nodding back off when two thoughts abruptly burst across his mind: the kid and his helmet. 

He jerks forward, eyes practically bulging, and the gasp that rips down his throat is coming back through harsh coughs that crowd the inside of his helmet. One hand flies up to his face, thankful to feel the now warmed metal against his gloves, and his eyes shift, alert, until they fall on two backs. 

“The kid,” he rasps around deep, hollow coughs. 

“Beside you,” Cara says, back still turned. “Insisted on it, really. Hope he’s got an immune system of steel.” 

Din glances down to see the kid curled up at his side, sleeping, his small face faintly scrunched up still. He breathes a shaky breath in around his coughs, allowing the filtered air to settle his lungs, and then he ghosts two fingers over the kid’s face, right above the small furrow temporarily etched in his forehead. 

“We won’t turn around,” Greef Karga calls out, and Din whips his gaze back up, happy to see that he’s able to look in an almost straight line. 

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t dead under that shell first,” he adds, and Din thumbs at the bottom of his helmet. 

“We imagine you’ll be much more comfortable without it. Plus, you’ve got medicine you must take.” 

Din spares a glance to the wooden cup of green liquid at his side. 

“What is this?” 

“Some weird concotion of ingredients I promise you don’t want to know,” Greef Karga replies, and Cara sighs loudly.

“Just drink it, so you don’t die.”

Din brings the cup up to his face, squinitng down at the less than appetizing liquid. “What happened?” he asks, abandoning the cup at his side. 

“You,” Cara starts, dragging out the word, “were lying half dead in the snow. Somehow, the kid called for us, used one of your devicies, I think, and when we arrived, I think...”

“He was attempting to heal you,” Greef Karga finishes lowly, and Din whips his gaze back down. Memories flood his mind until it’s swimming, and he shakes his head with a low sigh that gives way to a few coughs. 

“I don’t...” 

“The proper terminology is ‘thank you,’“ Cara interrupts, and though she doesn’t turn around, Din can easily picture the light-hearted scowl stretched across her lips. 

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it. His life is one thing, but the kid’s... That’s a life that’s in his hands, that he willingly put in his hands, and he can’t jeopardize that. He won’t.

“We’ll be just outside the tent,” Greef Karga starts, stepping to leave. “We’ll make sure no one comes in, so you should really consider losing the helmet for a bit.” 

“And taking the medicine.” Cara adds, and Din watches as the two leave. His hands move toward the base of his helmet, and he waits until the flaps of the tent’s entrance still before he slowly slides his helmet off, setting it aside with a long sigh that’s been swelling in his lungs for days. A few coughs trail behind it, and he tugs one glove off and presses the back of his hand to his cheek. 

The contact is hot, burning even, and he drops his hand to his neck for just a moment. He can’t let himself get this bad again, he thinks to himself. This... was careless. Dangerous, and somehow, he’s been dealt the best, possible outcome to a corner he backed himself into. 

Before he can talk himself out of it, he downs the cup of medicine in one gulp, grimacing at the odd mixture of flavors, and then he’s sinking back down against the makeshift bed of furs and woven pillows. Instinctively, he feels for his blasters. Still there, so he can still be prepared, even in his current state. 

He still feels horrible. His body’s still too heavy, and everything’s aching almost loudly. He knows he’s got another few days before his fever gives, and he’s sure the cough, a new development from what he could last remember, will linger. But right now, in this warm second, he’s safe. The kid is safe. And, in a moment of unscripted vulnerabilty, he tugs the kid a little tighter to his side. 

Perhaps it’s the fever distorting things yet again, but he swears the kid’s face softens, even just a little.

[wehatejulietsimms]

A/N: i'm gonna respond to this in sections bc it's quite long so bare with me.

Howdy y’all, 🤠 again. Yes, I didn’t in fact die. I’m sorry though that I kept getting sidetracked and couldn’t submit this until now, my boss decided to keep dumping her work into my lap. So I just wanna preface this by stating that I’m going to try and say what I want to as coherent as possible, but I have pretty severe ADHD so I’m not always as easy to understand as I think I am in my head, and I often go off on tangents, over explain things and circle back to topics randomly without realizing. Im basically going to go over their relationship over the years as I said previously (I’m not gonna go into detail about every single scandal and shitty thing Juliet did over the years, because we’d be here all year. so I figure I won’t cover them here, but rather let people ask specific questions if they want to. Remember, I was present for pretty much everything so feel free to ask.😊), but I’m also going to do kind of a mini deep dive into Andy’s behavior and actions (because although the snakes will hit you with every excuse in the book, and tell you that you’re looking too far into things and that it doesn’t matter, it does. The way a person acts in general and towards people around them is very relevant when talking about someone’s health, happiness, and well-being.) To start off, let’s take it all the way back to the time before Juliet’s reign of terror, when Andy and Scout were still together. In all honesty from what I saw of them together (and I saw pretty much everything they posted, I’m only a year younger than Andy, and I was quite into him when he was on MySpace and such, and I always watched anything with him and Scout together because they were fucking adorable lol) they had a really healthy relationship. Not once did I get weird vibes from them. The way Andy acted toward and with Scout, you could tell they really loved each other and were happy together. They had nothing to prove. It just was normal. (For any of you who are younger, or didn’t come into the picture until Andy was already post-scout and would like to see some videos of them together, you could generally search on YouTube for it, but also there’s a specific channel on there called like bring the milk tea or something that has videos of old Andy blogs and also Andy and scout on stickam and such. Worth a look if you’re curious) They weren’t constantly all over each other like possessive pack dogs *ahem Juliet ahem* and whenever Andy mentioned scout he didn’t need to shower her in compliments. They both seemed very secure in both themselves and the relationship. Super cute. Initially when they broke up it seemed quite odd. I didn’t really expect it. It got even weirder when he states that he and Juliet are together. It didn’t feel like they fit together at all (and no I’m not talking about from a fame or success perspective. At least not yet lol) As I’ve said I got bad vibes from Juliet right from the get go. Andy already seemed to be acting not like himself. (Also snakeys have argued that it’s just that he’s more mature now and that’s why he acts nervous and constantly looks Ike he wants to die. 🙄 maturity doesn’t mean losing your fucking personality and being unhappy most of the time. Jesus Christ.) it seemed like they got possessive of each other and constantly needed to show people how in love they were. Pictures, videos, and fucking public love paragraphs to show they are, in fact, in a super real relationship and they love each other. It also felt like Andy’s family was in on this whole weird charade.They (Chris honestly) started to defend her degenerate behavior and attack anyone who had even a whisper of negative things to say about her or their relationship. It was like watching a group of awkward, pretty mediocre actors put on a play about them being together. (I’ve hit the text limit now, but there will be more that I will write just after I submit this one though, fear not haha. N, you can either post this now or wait until I submit the rest, it’s up to you.) 1 / ? -🤠

A/N: i was here for a lot of it as well so i do remember some of this. although i did join the fandom shortly after him and juliet got together (i joined like around the time she was on the voice) i literally remember hoping that him and scout would get back together bc juliet just rubbed me the wrong way and i didn't know why at the time. & side note i actually do recommend people go look at old videos of andy and scout they were really adorable. there is this one video of them singing (i think a carrie underwood song lol) in the car and it's really cute. but yeah just bc he's older doesn't mean his whole entire personality changes. you can be any age and act however you want. i could even use jenna marbles & julien solomita (a youtube couple) as an example, they've been together for i think like 8 or 9 years and are about the same age as A&J (julien being around andy's age & jenna around juliet's age) & although they can have mature adult conversations and all of that, they still act like idiots and joke around together. neither of them look uncomfortable or are afraid of saying certain things like andy is around juliet. so andy aging doesn't mean shit in regards to his personality doing a 180.

🤠okay, so part two here we go. (Also I apologize if I get the chronological order of anything I talk about incorrect, I’m a bit scattered sometimes and the next ask I make will be the one where I talk about the domestic abuse and I tend to get quite heated, which only makes my brain function worse lol) so the point at which Andy was trying to get fans to go vote for/ support Juliet when she was on the voice seemed really fishy. I’m all for supporting the work of the people you love, but it’s kinda strange how hard Andy was pushing this at the time. Too hard in my opinion. I’m obviously aware that it was helpful in the end and he more or less got what he was asking for. But it was like he absolutely needed people to vote for her. As if he would get in trouble if they didn’t. So around 2012 or 2013 it felt like things really went down the shitter from there and just got progressively worse. (I never knew why for the longest time, but after they revealed that Vegas wedding that happened in about that time frame, it made a lot of sense.) Andy’s behavior began to change towards his fans. There are a lot of accounts of this happening from fans themselves and a lot of people said that 1. It was worse with Juliet around, and 2. a lot of the time it would happen towards females especially. ( I think more towards the “pretty” fans but don’t count me on that, I don’t know for sure.) This was completely night and day. Especially coming from the same man who used to always defend his fans and once stated something along the lines of he would never have a crazy or awkward fan story because he loves and is grateful for all of his fans and he won’t get upset if they’re just really excited. I would understand if these fans crossed the line in some way (like the later incident of fans finding his address and harassing them, which is unacceptable no matter who the people are) but from most if not all of the fan stories I’ve heard, they didn’t. They were being respectful and didn’t do anything to warrant this happening to them besides showing up. Which brings me to my next point, a lot of these negative experiences were caused by Juliet. Either she was the one being mean to people, she was causing Andy to be mean to people on her behalf, or her presence was upsetting Andy to the point that he was angry and started being rude and irritable. What scares me the most are the accounts of Andy having a whole Jekyll and Hyde thing, depending on weather or not Juliet was present. Happy when he’s free of her and miserable when he isn’t. In videos of him where Juliet is behind the camera he always seems nervous and strange. Like he’s afraid to mess up. That’s fucking alarming to say the least. You would think that the last thing one would want to do if another person brings them this much anger, stress, and anxiety, the LAST thing they would want to do is fucking marry them. Right? He literally started barely smiling at one point and really doesn’t anymore. I mean for Christ’s sake look at his wedding photos. What’s suppose to be one of the happiest moments of your life and to quote another anon with a different ask, he looks like he’s being dragged to the gallows. (And I get really fucking Angry honestly when snakeys tries to pass it off as “oh he’s awkward he doesn’t know how to smile” or “omg he’s being dramatic for the aesthetics” in some pictures, yes. But why the fuck would you look like that in pictures with the “love of your life” who you now regularly write cringy paragraphs publicly professing your love and complete adoration for? Andy knows how to smile genuinely. Ffs he used to. He smiled genuinely when he was a kid, he smiled genuinely with scout, and he smiled genuinely when Juliet wasn’t around. He doesn’t smile when she is there, and if he does, it is pretty much always visibly fake.) So I may backtrack a little later, but right now I want to talk about the fact that Juliet IS an abuser. More specifically, the plane incident. (Word limit. TBC.) 2 / ? -🤠

A/N: yes. 100%. when it comes to the wedding photos i will never understand people (specifically snakeys) writing off his behavior as him "just being dramatic for the aesthetics". is that something he would do in photoshoots? yeah. is it something he may do on stage? sure. something he would do in an interview? maybe. but candid shots of him on one of the "happiest days of his life"? wtf no. & idk why people think that.

🤠 Just before I start, again, with the pictures, I really don’t think that Andy is enough of a self absorbed egotistical dick that he would actually sit there and put on the whole “miserable tough guy” act in every fucking photo he takes. Ah yes, the infamous plane incident. So straight up, Juliet exposed herself as an abuser, and brought out every bullshit excuse in the book (and made Andy go along with them) to try to cover it up. 1. She was drunk. Honestly this is total bullshit. I say this same thing when people defend cheating or any other degenerate behavior with the excuse of intoxication and I will say it now. Being drunk does not make you a different fucking person. It does not change the thoughts in your head. What it does do is impair your ability to make decisions and judgement skills in general. It’s the same reason why people drive drunk. It’s routine. Its what they would normally do. And because they’re drunk, they can’t see any reason why they shouldn’t do that. Juliet gets drunk, she and Andy fight, she wants to hit him, and because she’s drunk she doesn’t think that she shouldn’t fucking put her hands on him. 2. She hit him in “self defense” and he broke her ribs.(There’s several points I have debunking this) first of all let’s get this out of the way, no one on that plane (including the very real witness who just so happened to be an adult film actress (I think?) who you so love to discount because of it) saw him strike her or even touch her at any time. Two, you are in fucking airplane seats sitting right the fuck next to each other with an armrest in between. It would be pretty fucking hard to break your ribs unless they were made of actual glass, or Andy’s real name is Bruce fucking banner. Bones are surprisingly strong and I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that it’d be damn near impossible for him to do that to you, which brings me to three, if he had broken your ribs you would not be fucking standing up, thrashing around, whining like a little bitch, and oh by the way, continuing to abuse your husband for the second time on that flight. Four, you had a miscarriage. (When I was trying to conceive with my husband it was very difficult. I had two miscarriages before I finally had my son. I’m fully aware of how devastating having one is.) which is why if you are not lying (which I fully believe that Juliet would stoop that low just to get sympathy, especially with this big of a scandal. But I don’t actually have proof of this so I will say that it is just speculation on my part) I don’t fucking care. I am not unsympathetic to her if this did actually happen as I said, however, You do not get to make any excuse for putting your hands on another person out of anger. Ever. I don’t care who you are, I don’t care what kind of stress you are under, I don’t care if you are inebriated in any way and I sure as hell don’t care what the fuck you have between your legs. You do not hurt anyone. Point blank period. Five. You are a woman, you can’t hurt him. This one, actually enrages me. We all know your crusty ass pulled this one out (and threw around trump supporters a few times for good measure) because you know damn well how society and the media views and deals with abusive women. Women can abuse. Women who are shorter or weaker than their target can abuse. The fact that there are people who either don’t know that or don’t agree with that is absolutely baffling. Six. The same (I believe) porn actress. Literally saw you beating your own face with the restraints you had to be put in (which by the way flight attendants only ever use restraints as an absolute last resort when someone becomes a danger to the others on board, so she had to be acting absolutely deranged) to give yourself a bloody nose to claim Andy hit you. Then you proceed to act like a child and tell Andy to call your fucking dad. (Which kinda proves that whole Scientology thing honestly) what in the hell. I stg as long as I am breathing I will never let this go. This is actual fucking domestic abuse. (Word limit TBC.) 3 / ? -🤠

A/N: yeah her hitting him "bc she was drunk" was never a good excuse not only for the reasons you mentioned but, also bc let's be real at no point are you ever going to get served enough alcohol on a plane to make you that drunk i don't care what anyone says. also when it comes to the excuse of him "breaking her ribs" does she forget that andy actually did break his ribs a while ago? i think she even visited him when he was recovering so she should know what kind of pain he was in. & if he actually broke her ribs, there's no way she would have even been able to stand bc i know andy sure wasn't able to. he said it was one of the most painful things he's experienced. (i don't think i need to comment on the rest of this. it would just be redundant. you hit the nail on the head with that.)

🤠 I don’t care if it happened just that one time ore more likely is an everyday occurrence. Abuse is abuse and should never be tolerated. Kind of getting away from the plane thing. Andy always seems, as it’s been said on here before, afraid to mess up. Like he might mess up, and make her mad. A common behavioral pattern in abuse victims. He also at this point and for a decent amount of time before, doesn’t seem like he loves her anymore. Like he keeps up appearances and pretends, but it’s like it’s a job he’s forced to do. He’s tired and burnt out but was probably manipulated into staying and juliet is probably clinging for dear life. Also I don’t know if I’m the only one who thinks this, but I swear, the veganism and sobering up was just a cover up, most likely formed by either Juliet herself or her fucked up family, after the plane incident to hide their tracks and regain some public favor (because you know, if you advocate for animal rights then you can’t abuse your husband 🙃) Andy never gave a shit before though. Even though it was unhealthy he loved to drink and smoke and was very outspoken about that. And he used to never give a fuck about eating meat or consuming animal products like leather. I mean they’re still selling leather goods ffs. I would get having minor fuck ups because you don’t know any better, but it’s fucking leather. And now Andy is unhealthy and miserable as ever, but the culprit is malnourishment and Juliet rather than cigs, alcohol, and Juliet. My final thoughts: I do definitely believe in the Scientology theory, but if not that than I definitely believe that Andy was and is being manipulated for his fame. On several occasions it really looked like they broke up, including the time when they did, and then said it was a joke. It really doesn’t feel normal. Also, Juliet doesn’t really care about Andy that much. She never wears her wedding ring, she sells all their shit, including sentimental items, and now that she’s gained more popularity from being with him, suddenly doesn’t want to put him in her bio or write him the same creepy ass paragraphs or anything. It’s fucked up how shes so keen to say she did it all herself when really she’s been riding dick for fame since before she even met Andy. It also always kinda seemed to me that Amy was kind of uncomfortable around Juliet. We all know that Chris loves to kiss her ass night and day (most likely to do with the Scientology thing “if” it’s true), but Juliet and Amy always seemed to have a weird relationship like it was tense and forced. Also I just want to mention the time that Juliet talked about screaming at the woman over what I believe was a game night and brushed it off as being competitive and no one gave damn. Fucked up. To finish off this already way too long little series, I think Andy is a very vulnerable insecure person who got manipulated by several people (not just Juliet) some of whom he probably really trusted, and they helped to get him in Juliet’s (equally if not more insecure) hands so she could hurt him as she pleases. I truly hope that even now both he, and his parents (even though Chris really grinds my gears) can get out of this whole shit show, relatively unscathed. I know this is probably pretty unlikely, but hope springs eternal I guess. As I said feel free to ask any questions you may have and I will try to answer them best I can. Thank you for reading. 4 / 4 -🤠

A/N: yet again you hit the nail on the head with this part so i don't need to comment too much. other than the fact that i do agree that juliet and amy's relationship does seem weird.

[johnismyreason]

Hell on Earth (TWO) // KOH!TOMHOLLAND X HUMAN!READER

Summary: Tom, Prince of Hell and only heir to the throne, is sent to Earth by his parents as a punishment. He ends up in an odd city full of the worst humans, except one, who, despite not knowing who he truly is, decides to help him.

Note: Well, well, well... It’s been a while. I’m sorry but a lot of things happen and honestly I wasn’t in the mood to write anything. Anyways, I hope I didn’t loose everyone was reading the first part of this Koh!Tom series. Let me know what you thought and if you have ideas for next chapters. And send me an ask to be added to the taglist :) Love you ! 

words: 2.3k

Warnings: panic attack, cursing, fluff-ish?, bad english bc im french 

First part

Tom was so nervous. How the hell was he going to tell you where he is from. He doesn’t have much time to think about it, since you seat in front of him. “Here you go” you said, placing the tuna sandwich and a cup of coffee before his hands. Seating down, you create a slight draft, giving Tom the chance to breath your smell. Honey and apple. Not too sugary, not too strong but present enough to be under your spell for a spilt second. 

“Thank you” Tom said taking a bite in the sandwich. The taste of tuna on his tongue repulses him but he fakes a smile “’S really good” he lied his mouth full, before swallowing with a hard gulp. 

“I’m glad you like it” you smile back laying down a bit, your elbow on the table and your hand in a fist holding your chin. “So... what’s going on, Tom ?” the sound of his name on your lips makes it hard for him to concentrate. It almost sounds like a prayer or a blessing, instead of the curse he always heard when his father called him. 

“Right,” closing his eyes and shaking his head, Tom tried to regain his composure “Um, here’s the thing. I don’t have anywhere to go. My parents kind of kicked me out” You blinked a few times trying to process what he just said. You’re surprised and shocked, you didn’t expect that at all. 

“What ? W-why ?” you let your hand that was supporting your head, fall on the table, a few inches from his. 

“Uh...” now is the tricky part. Tom has to think fast but coherent. "I was not the best son” he confessed. By the confused look on your face, the prince of Hell understood that it wasn’t enough of an explanation “I- uh. I didn’t take my responsibilities seriously and partied too much. So I fucked up everything.” Tom felt shame thinking about the look on his parents’ faces before being banned. “Basically, if I want to come back home, I have to change. Like, everything about me must be changed” Tom let his head fall forward, to avoid your gaze. 

His head snapped back up when he felt your reassuring hand on his wrist, the veins of his heart loosened at the sight of your compassionate smile. 

“I’m sure not everything is good to put in the bin” you said softly. 

“How would you know ?” Tom almost whispered. “You don’t know me”

“I can see it. The good.” you replied pointing at his heart. “You’re just lost. You’ve done some mistakes, what about it ? A few of them doesn’t make you a bad person. We're not perfect. We’re just humans after all.”

“I’m not-” Tom cut himself from dropping his secret. But it hit him. We’re all humans. He’s human now. The loss of his powers, the bangs in his head after drinking the whole night away,... His parents made him human. Suddenly, Tom feels a rush of panic invading him. He starts looking around nervously, his palms become clammy and his madness takes control. Fuck, is what being human feels like ? Feeling weak and pathetic ? Succumbing to the unreasonable and to our every perfidious feelings ? 

“Tom ?” you brung him back, your eyebrows furrowed. “Is everything ok ?” 

The young boy’s wide opened eyes stare at you, scrutinising every detail of your face. Every stain, every barely formed line and indentation, every curve. Everything and anything that makes you... human. 

“No.” he blurbed out, by freeing himself from your hand, which until now had reassured him but now made him feel like a prisoner. “I gotta go...” and with that, Tom stood up abruptly and left the coffee shop. 

“Tom wait !” you tried to stop him, but he’s fast. 

Tom sets off into the city, looking for a way home at all costs, even though he knows it's impossible. He bumps into things and people who then insult him for not paying attention without apologizing. He wants to cross the street and run away. He gets off the pavement and takes two steps when a van runs into him. Surprised, Tom holds still until a hand grabs his arm and pulls him back, causing him to fall with the person who saved him. It was you. Is she always going to save my life like that ?

Lying next to each other and trying to come to your senses, your breasts rise and fall in rhythm with your twin breaths. You turn your head towards him, the asphalt slightly scratching your scalp. His face is still tense but it hasn't changed. He is still beautiful, elegant, almost mischievous. His curls fall backwards against the ground and you notice the touch of red in his reflections. My God, how beautiful he is.

“Do you often have panic attacks ?” Tom's face gradually relaxes at the sound of your voice. But what frees him from the anxiety monster inside of him, is your laughter. Your sweet giggle. He almost killed you both, but you're laughing. Lying on the floor in the filthy street next to him. 

“I’m so sorry...” 

“Don’t be” you replied getting up. You then hold your hand for him to take it. “Come on, let’s go home” you smiled, putting the almost tragic incident that just happened behind you. Tom takes your hand and pushes himself off the ground with your help. 

“Home ?” he asked confused without letting your hand go.

“Yeah, I mean at my place. You’re going to live there until you... um... change.” you pressed your lips in a tight but friendly smile accompanied by a small puff. That’s when he doesn’t understand anymore. 

“Why are you doing this for me ?” he asks sinking in the back of his chair. “You don’t know me, I could be a sociopath !” or the prince of Hell. 

“Well, First of all I don’t think that sociopaths know they are socipaths. And when they do, I also don’t think it’s something they want to scream everywhere.” you replied standing in front of him, your fists of your hips. “And two: It’s you who came to my shop and ask for my help. And it’s not like you have somewhere to crash, don’t you ?” you titled your head to the side as if you were playfully challenging him. Tom grinned a little, trying to hide his hint of embarrassment  “But if you prefer, we can always find you a piece of cardboard that we will set you up in a not too badly famed alleyway, you'll love it, it’s-”

“Ok, alright you won !” Tom cut you placing his palms in defeat. “Hell, are you always like that ?” he chuckled. You just smiled cheekily and shrugged your shoulders. You took his arm and started walking. 

You didn’t live far from the bakery, only 10 minutes walking, which was very pratical since, before going to the bakery, you followed classes at university and had to go change at your place before going to work. You led Tom to your appartment. The building was far from the ivory towers in which Tom had grown up. Yours was much more dilapidated, with a cold cigarette smell in the stairwell that you asked him not to pay attention to. Ms. McDougall had never learned good manners, and enjoyed smoking in the small lobby. 

After going up the three floors without a lift, of course, you stop in front of the door of your flat to open it. “I wasn’t expecting someone today, so please forgive me for the old tea cups in the kitchen... and the living. And probably in the bathroom.”

“The bathroom ?” repeated Tom. 

“Yeah. Don’t ask. I don’t have any excuse” you chuckled finding your keays at the bottom of your bag. “Ok. Here you go !” you invited him in with your arm extended so he can enter first. Tom thanked you before walking in, discovering your small but cozy place. 

There was a main room which served as kitchen, dining room and living room. The black sofa in front of the television looked comfortable and could be folded out to make a bed. There was also a coffee table with books for the university, the remote control, chocolates, a cherry blossom scented candle and two mugs. A garland of light framed the window overlooking the street. The neighbourhood was not pretty, but at least it was quiet. Just like the flat which was very cozy. Tom already felt good there. 

You took off your jacket and your bag and started to tidy up the room quickly. Tom looked at you with an amused smile. He looked how a few strands of hair fell on your face as you pick up the mugs out of the table and put them in the sink; and how your hands worked quickly to collect your books. 

“What do you study ?” Tom asked pointing to your books that you held close to your chest. 

“I am studying to become a nurse” you responded with a soft smile. “My finals are in three weeks.” 

“Oh, that’s a noble job” said Tom, immediatly regreting sounding condescendin. “I mean, it’s a great one ! Better than selling sandwiches and croissants.” When he saw your lips thightening and your eyes squinting, he held his hands in front of you, trying to catch back his mistake “No, I mean, working in a bakery is great, it’s just... being a nurse is better for you !” 

“How would you know what’s better for me ?” you teased. Tom felt his palms sweating and his cheeks redenning. You got him. 

Why does he react like that ? He was prince of Hell, and soon - hopefully - king, for fuck’s sake ! He’s used to people being affraid of him and his powers. Used to spill his venom on any creature, human or not, using harsh, insulting and degrading names, without the shadow of an ounce of embarrassment. That's what he did. To be the cursed prince of Hell. The beloved child of death and eternal torture. 

But with you it’s different. You are different. He feels deeply in his soul, that he would never use these words on you. You had a force on him that he couldn’t explain. 

“I-I... I don’t, yeah you’re right. Sorry, I didn’t want to-” he stopped when he heard your light giggle. 

“Tom, I was joking. I understood what you meant, I just wanted to mess you with. Selling sandwiches is great but it isn’t my professional perspective. Sorry for making you uncomfortable, that was dumb.”

“No, no, no ! It’s fine. It’s just a joke.” he puffed. What ?! In Hell, he would have sent the fool who dared messing up with him, in the worst session of torture of his entire eternity. 

You smiled to him before heading to your bedroom, throwing your books on your bed. You came back with a blanket and a very soft looking pillow. You then walked to the bathroom with a new toothbrush and clean towel. 

“My brother lived here for a while a couple of years ago and left clothes. You can take whatever you want, he’s not gonna come back.” 

“Where is he now ?” you felt a hiver running through your body at the thought of him. 

“I don’t know. Aaron never felt like he belongged in this society, that he had nothing to bring to the community. So he wanted to join the army. They know how to talk to kids who feel like him. Telling them that their lives will save thousands of others. I told him it would be the biggest mistake of his life, that he’s smart and talented but he didn’t want to hear anything. So he left one day, and I never saw him again.” It was the first time you talked about your brother in two years. You felt tears threatening to fall. “I don’t even know if he’s still alive.” you choked on the last word, unable to bear the very idea that he may no longer be of this world. 

Tom looked at you not knowing what to do. He tried to remember an Aaron who would have gone to hell. The Prince has the ability to know all the deaths that fall and the division of souls between heaven and hell. This means that he knows every name, story and sin that enters his kingdom. Unfortunately, without his powers on Earth, he cannot know whether his brother is alive or not. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” he murmured before clearing his throat. “I’m sure he’ll come back one day.” You raised your head with a heart-rending smile, trying hard to hide your pain. 

“He’s in the past now. Let’s talk about something else.” You entered the kitchen, looking for something to eat, but you forgot to go to the grocery store today. Well, you didn’t really forgot, your plans just... changed a bit. “Um... I have nothing in my fridge and clearly I don’t want to grocery shopping right now, so is chinese take away is fine with you ?” 

“Perfect !” He never ate chinese food. 

“Great ! I’ll just call my favorite place after taking a shower” you said walking backwards to your bathroom. 

When Tom heard the water running, he fell on the couch dramtically. His legs spread and his right hand on his forhand he stared into the void, trying to process what happened those two last days. Him being banned from Hell for an indefinite period almost dead two times on the road, loosing his powers, and ending up living in an girl’s appartment. Tom sighed loudly, wondering how all of this could happen to the fucking prince of Hell. 

And now what ? 

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