#its all gone wrong it was meant to be a happy weekend

[youaremysunshine-court]

God fucked up somewhere letting literally anyone have a kid

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Zoro's Story - 6

Source for pic

Trouble 6

Word Count: 4648

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader; Protective!Zoro; Soft!Zoro; Sexual Tension; Teasing; Flirting; Mature Audiences (I'll always tag the NSFW chapters); Modern Day AU; Reader is being stalked; Fear; Paranoia; Angst; Rom-Com Vibes; Mild Gore-like Descriptions; Blood; Dead Animals Mentioned; Reader in a terror-like state; Fluff; Romance; Banter; Manipulation; Miscommunication; Frustration; Reader is very clumsy;

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You and Zoro are slowly returning to your easy friendship filled with banter and flirting and you actually begin to glimpse a future with the green-haired cop. But then you start to receive weird gifts. They quickly escalate to manipulative texts. And now you're stuck in a spiral of terror and there's no way to get help because the Stalker, whoever he is, is threatening something other than just your life.

Notes: I really thought I wasn't going to get this chapter out this weekend! I had a very tough week and I really wanted to share something good with you guys. I hope you enjoy it.

Masterlist

You can't sleep. 

Not only because the room is still spinning around you - a sensation that only gets worse when you close your eyes - but also because you can't stop replaying what happened. 

Zoro's lips, Zoro's breath, Zoro's firm grip. Zoro, Zoro, Zoro. It all comes back to him. 

You suppress a squeal into your sheets and cover your face with them, your feet kicking the comforter while you grin maniacally. You feel like a teenager in love. 

Oh… 

No, not love. It's too soon for that. But it's a heavy crush. And damn it, you want to act on it right now. 

Why the hell did your alarm start blaring out of nowhere? You don't even have an alarm set, the rooster is enough as a wake-up call. 

Stupid phone. 

And damn criminals. You were about to kiss again, but someone had to commit a crime serious enough to drag Zoro back in. Damn drunkards. 

A heavy sigh parts your lips as you emerge from beneath the sheets. You try closing your eyes again, and just when you're fighting vertigo, your phone buzzes. 

Your heart skips a beat, and the silly grin finds its way back onto your lips. It must be Zoro. You unlock it and squint against the bright light before dimming it. 

Unknown: You looked gorgeous tonight, Kitten. 

What? It must be a wrong number. You ignore it, ready to lock your phone again, trying not to feel disappointed, but it buzzes again. 

Unknown: You're a happy drunk. Makes you loose. You're cute. Too cute. You attracted too much attention.  Unknown: But it's okay. I took care of him just for you. Can't have any other men ogling what's mine, can I? 

You sit up, trying to figure out the meaning behind the texts. They can't be meant for you. 

You: Wrong number.  Unknown: Oh, no, Kitten. I've got the right number.  Unknown: Sleep tight, Princess. I'll keep watch. 

You delete the texts and block the number from your phone. What a creep. Definitely the wrong number. 

But you can't seem to shake that familiar unease in your stomach. Nor the way your heart is thumping against your ribcage. 

You keep telling yourself the texts weren't for you. Lying down, you close your eyes, willing sleep to come fast. Somehow the walls feel closer, the air seems staler, your clothes tighter. 

All giddiness is now gone, and though you wish Zoro would say something, you fear hearing your phone buzz again. 

Even if it's the wrong number. 

Right? 

-*-

Morning comes too soon, and now you're rethinking your life choices. You shouldn't have drunk that much. 

“Shut uuuuuup!” The pillow muffles your scream, but even if it didn't, it's not like the rooster can hear you yelling at it. 

With a heavy sigh and a low grunt, you get up, ready to start your morning, dreading all the chores since your head is still pounding and your throat feels drier than the desert. 

You don't even recall the texts you received yesterday, they're so far back in your mind that they seem like a dream. You still feel the faint brush of Zoro's lips against yours, though. 

It's not until you open the door to go outside that the eerie events of last night swim back to the forefront of your pounding head. There's another box waiting for you. 

You hesitate, your hand hovering over the handle of the door and your feet staggering backwards. Should you just ignore it? 

Biting your lower lip, you take a tentative step out onto the porch, your eyes scanning the property, almost expecting something - or someone - to jump out. 

Your eyes fall back on the package. It's crumpled, and there's no ribbon. It also seems dirtier. Is it…? Blood? 

It can't be. 

Clenching your teeth and taking a deep breath, you kneel down, acting braver than you actually feel and ignoring the trembling of your hands as you open the box. 

You're not sure if your scream actually leaves your lips or if it only stays in your head. But the incessant pounding of your heart is so loud that it's all you can hear. 

There are two bloody eyeballs staring right at you inside the box. 

-*-

“You think they're a match, Cap?” Zoro raises the plastic bag upwards so it catches the morning sun. The eyeballs, wet and glassy on their surface, stare back at Zoro, a lifeless dullness in the irises, though blood still lingers on them. 

“Unless there's someone else with missing eyeballs, Roronoa, I'd say they're a match.”

Zoro's deadpan look doesn't seem to faze Mihawk one bit as he looks around the scene, coordinating his team. 

“Why here?”

Mihawk’s gaze falls on the vast scenery, a slight breeze dishevelling his hair as a hawk glides effortlessly in the sky. Then he looks back at the coin-operated binoculars, where tape still sticks from holding the eyeballs in place, his team still busy gathering all evidence before disrupting the scene further. 

They're at the overlook. 

“It seems like they were sending another message. What do you reckon it is?”

Zoro hands the bag over to one of his colleagues and steps closer to the binoculars, his gaze landing downwards, scanning the town's buildings, the beach in the distance, and the Ferris wheel from the fair. 

His department doesn't have detectives, they're too small, and Mihawk is a seasoned cop. They never had enough crimes - or crimes grisly enough - to justify it. But Mihawk - even though he'd rather die than admit it - has taken Zoro under his wing, so, when an investigation comes by, Zoro acts as a lead investigator, even if he's not officially a detective. 

And Mihawk likes to test him.

“I'd say it means they're watching. Or something like it.”

Mihawk hums appreciatively, his eyes still scanning the vast horizon. “I agree. But I would delve even further.” He gestures with his hand. “The overlook was not randomly chosen, I believe. If that was simply the message, they could've taped the eyes to any given binoculars, and the message would come through, right?”

Zoro nods, his gaze landing on your father's farm, and he feels a slight clutch at his chest. “The overlook has a view of the entire town.” 

“Exactly, Roronoa. They're not simply watching. They're watching everything.”

-*-

Fake. They're not real eyeballs. They're plastic eyeballs smeared in red paint. 

But damn it if they didn't give you a fright. 

Who the hell would even consider this a practical joke? Usopp? Luffy? Would any of them do this? Most likely they wouldn't. Their jokes are usually more of the childish kind, not the scary kind. 

With a grumble and a snarl, you shove the gift into the trash can and push it to the back of your mind. 

Freaking gifts. 

Your phone buzzes as you take the first step off your porch, and you freeze as last night's texts slip their way into your mind again. 

Another buzz. 

You swallow hard and take a deep breath. It was just a wrong number yesterday, it doesn't mean it will be another creepy message again. 

Right? 

You try to ignore the way your hand trembles as you reach for your phone or how your heartbeat races. 

Zoro: Hey, Troublemaker. Making trouble? 

A sigh escapes your lips as you sit down on the first step of the porch, both your hands clutching your phone tightly while the sense of dread washes away and a small smile paints your lips. 

You: Not yet! Just got up. You?  Zoro: Didn't even get to sleep yet 😴 Got tangled in a weird-ass case. I'll fill you in later.  You: Later?  Zoro: Got any other plans that don't involve me? Should I be hurt or worried? 

You smirk, the ghost of his lips still tingling on your own, along with the promise of a continuation. 

You: I marked out ‘complete unfinished business’ on my schedule after last night.  Zoro: You did, did you? I'll make sure to get some sleep first, then, since I plan to take my time with you. 

The smirk gracing your lips after you're done exchanging texts remains plastered on your face the rest of the day. 

-*-

“But I just worked an all-nighter, Cap!” Zoro grunts, his hair still disheveled from sleep. 

“And now you're fully rested, Roronoa. Johnny had an emergency, Yosaku is on vacation, and I need you to cover his shift. You can have tomorrow off.”

Fuck. 

“I have plans today.” The sheets fly away from him when he kicks them, though the gesture does nothing to curb his frustration. 

“Yes, I just told you what they were. Besides, Lucci is awake at the hospital and stable. You need to check in on him. I'm hanging up now. I hear enough complaining from my daughter, I don't need it from you either.”

“Fuck!” Zoro curses loudly as he drops the phone onto his bed, raking a hand through his hair to try and chase away the sleep. 

He usually doesn't mind doing extra shifts. He likes the work, and it keeps him busy. But he doesn't usually have dates planned. 

And he really wanted to continue that kiss. 

With another sigh, he picks up the phone again and starts heading towards the bathroom. 

Zoro: Hey, Trouble. Sorry, Cap just called. I need to fill in for a shift. Guess we'll have to postpone our unfinished business for another night. 

It takes you a few minutes to answer back, and he uses them to get ready and slip into his uniform. 

You: Really? 😟 And I bought some really good sake, too… 

The groan he releases now comes from the depths of his soul. Being with you and drinking sake have to be two of his favourite things in the world. 

You: It's okay, Zo. We'll have other opportunities to spend time together!  Zoro: Yeah, you're right. Stay safe, Trouble. 

-*-

Stay safe. 

You smile and sigh, sinking into the cushions of the couch. You had finished your chores earlier to grab that sake for Zoro, taken a nice bath, and were just about to start cooking dinner for two. 

“Well, dinner for one it is.”

Getting up with a grunt, you head to the kitchen and decide that dinner for one might as well be a bowl of cereal. You don't even notice your phone buzzing until you sit down and reach it. 

Unknown: Did you like my gift? 

Uneasiness sets your heart pounding against your ribcage as you drop the spoon back into the bowl with a soft clang and a small splash of milk. 

Gift? The eyes? 

Shaking your head, you delete the text and open a streaming service, searching for a mind-numbing show to shake away the edge. 

Unknown: I don't want anyone to look at you like that, Kitten. Unknown: You're mine. 

Delete, delete. Block. 

You turn the phone screen down and stare at the device as if it’s about to sprout legs and jump at you. It has to be a mistake. Those texts aren't for you. 

Unknown: Cereal is not a proper meal, sweetheart. You need real nourishment.  Unknown: I don't want you to get ill. 

“Fuck.”

The chair scrapes against the floor as you get up abruptly, stride to the front door, and lock and bolt it. You draw every curtain in sight, making sure all locks are in place. But not even all the security measures in the world seem to calm your racing heart. 

“It's a mistake. It has to be. Someone's messing with my head.”

You pace the kitchen after putting the cereal bowl into the sink, the food nearly untouched as your stomach roils and churns in revulsion. 

Unknown: It's not a mistake, Kitten. I'm here for you. You're mine. 

You nearly drop the phone this time as a cold wave of fear rushes through you. Darting your eyes around the room, you half expect someone to jump from the shadows. Everything seems alive, just waiting to pounce at you. 

A hiccupped sob shakes you from your momentary paralysis, and you fumble to unlock your phone again. With shaking fingers you scroll to Zoro's thread while your eyes still dart from every nook and corner of your kitchen back to the screen. 

“Come on, come on.” You whisper as your lungs constrict and the air seems heavier. You start to type, not wanting to call Zoro and disrupt his shift, even though it feels like something he would want to be disrupted for. 

The buzz from your phone makes you gasp and swallow a shallow scream. 

Unknown: Don't tell the cop, Kitten. This is our little secret.  Unknown: You don't want to misbehave, do you? 

No, no, no! This can't be happening. 

Your fingers hover on the letters and you take a deep breath, continuing your text to Zoro. 

Unknown: Don't hit send, Sweetheart. You don't want me mad.  Unknown: Who do you think made your precious cop go to work today? Who do you think made him be dragged to the station yesterday? 

What? 

Your legs give out and you slump on the floor, knees pulled up against your chest as you hug them tightly. 

Unknown: Do you know how easy it would be to lure your hero cop into a trap?  Unknown: I don't mind hurting him like I hurt the other one. 

Other one? 

Unknown: Maybe you haven't seen it yet, Kitten. 

And then there's a link to a local newspaper website. You hesitate, every creak of the old house making you hyper-aware of your surroundings. You still click on it. 

Gruesome crime in the Calm Belt. The police are still baffled as to who could have maimed Rob Lucci, local shipwright, with such a heinous crime. He was found last night after a party without his eyes–

You close the link, the taste of bitter bile rising up your throat. The gift, the fake eyes, Rob Lucci… it was all their work. 

Another buzz draws your attention, and you blink away the tears to clear your vision. It's a picture. 

Unknown: The things I do for you, Kitten. 

You know you shouldn't open it. Your thrumming heart and the coldness rushing through your veins are living proof that you shouldn't open it. 

Yet you do. 

And as you gaze at Rob Lucci’s pained expression, his eye sockets hollow and dripping blood, his mouth drooling while hanging open and at a big, tanned and veiny hand holding two bloody eyeballs, you can no longer stop your stomach from heaving and retching all over the kitchen floor. 

It's your fault Rob Lucci ended up like that. 

And if you tell Zoro about what’s happening, he could be next. 

-*-

“Atchoo!” Zoro sneezes and runs one hand over his nose. 

He's pissed. 

Lucci didn't remember shit from last night. Nothing useful, anyway. Someone stabbed a needle into his neck, whispered a cryptic: ‘You should've never have looked at her’, and next thing he knew, he was in the hospital. 

At least he wasn't awake when they took out his eyes. Could've been much worse. But Zoro didn't tell him that. 

Useless Lucci couldn't even say who ‘her’ might be referring to. He just said he’d hit on a lot of girls at Franky’s party. It could be referring to anyone. Maybe Khalifa, he'd mused, since he'd been hovering over her until the ship docked. 

Zoro felt a bit guilty about the relief that washed over him, the implication about Khalifa leaving you out of this gruesome business. Then he left Lucci to take his painkillers and rest, requesting that an officer keep an eye outside Khalifa’s apartment until someone took her statement in the morning. 

But what's got him even more pissed is the fact that he was looking forward to spending more time alone with you, seeing where you could take things. 

But since he has to take over Johnny's patrol, he can swing by your house for five minutes. Just to see you. Then maybe he can focus on his job instead of the way your lips felt brushing against his. 

Or how stupidly giddy he feels because you wanted to kiss him back. 

That has to mean you like him too. Right? You don't seem like the type to just lead him on. He knows you, and he doesn't think you've changed that much. 

Parking in front of your house, Zoro steps out of the car and raises an eyebrow. There's still a bit of light outside, why are all of your curtains drawn? It doesn't seem like you… Then again, maybe it's because you're all alone in your house. 

With a shrug, he climbs the steps two at a time and knocks on the door. You don't answer so he tries again, trying to shove his apprehension down. You're fine, he talked to you about two hours ago. 

You're fine. 

-*-

You're not fine. 

You hear a car approach and instantly know it has to be Zoro. You barely hold down a sigh of relief, but as soon as you get up, ready to open the door and jump into the safety of his arms, your phone buzzes relentlessly, text after text, without pause. 

Unknown: Don't tell him anything.  Unknown: Don't let him suspect.  Unknown: Don't even think about letting him touch you.  Unknown: I do not make empty threats, Kitten. I don't want to hurt him, but I will.  Unknown: Don't tell him our little secret. 

Your throat dries up and you swallow back a sob. Crying won't help. Nothing will help. 

Zoro could help. 

But you can't tell him. You won't risk his safety. 

Another insistent knock startles you, and you get up swiftly, stopping by the hallway mirror to try and disguise your tears. 

You can't do anything about the fear in your eyes, though. 

Unknown: Don't disobey me. I do not want to punish you. 

You shove the phone into your pocket, and just as you're about to unlatch the lock, Zoro pounds harder on the wooden door. 

“Hey, Trouble, are you okay?”

Deep inhale. You just have to fake it. 

“I'm opening the door, Zo, calm down.” Too shaky. Your words are too hiccuped and weak. 

He'll notice. 

The door swings open, and you try to focus on Zoro's chest instead of his eye. 

“Damn it, I was already considering breaking the door down.”

You force a dry chuckle as he leans on the doorway, a devious smirk on his lips, even though his brow raises slightly when you don't meet his gaze. 

“That's exaggerated.”

“Is it? I wouldn't put it past you to fall down the stairs, or burn yourself, or get trapped behind some furniture. You're that clumsy.”

This time, your chuckle is even drier, and he notices it. Zoro takes a small step forward, his hand reaching as he lifts your chin so you look at him. You flinch, and your phone buzzes in your pocket. 

“Trouble?”

“I'm fine! I just… There's food on the stove. I have to… It’ll burn.” Weak voice, weak excuses. Another buzz, and you pull away from his touch. 

“Is something wrong?” Zoro's eyes dart behind you, inside the house, half-expecting to see someone there. 

“No. I'm just tired. That's all.”

-*-

Tired, my ass. 

You're fidgety, jumpy, and scared. You don't even meet his gaze. The fuck’s going on? 

Zoro tries to get past you, but you block his path. You don't want him inside? What's going on? 

“Do you need help with something? I can spare five minutes.”

For a second, your gaze meets his, and Zoro's heart skips a beat. It's almost as if you're reaching out to him, seeking something. But it's fleeting, and you drop your eyes back down, your body trembling slightly at the same time he hears a faint buzz - your phone?

“No, I'm fine. Everything's all right. You should go.” You take a step back and start to close the door. 

Was it the kiss? Did that mess things up? No, it couldn't have been, or you wouldn't have flirted back with him over texts in the morning. It has to be something else. 

“Bye.” You whisper, but the word doesn't sound final. It sounds like a plea. 

Zoro's hand stops the door, and he reaches again, this time making sure you meet his gaze by holding your face with his hand. 

“You'd tell me if something was wrong, wouldn't you?” 

-*-

Yes! Yes, you want to tell him so badly! Stay, protect me, help me. I'm being watched, I'm so scared. 

You'd say all of it to him in a heartbeat. Just his presence is enough to make you feel safer. 

But the insistent buzz in your pocket tells you he can't stay. You don't know who the person on the other side of the texts is, but you already know enough to believe his threats. 

You can't risk Zoro’s safety. 

You can't. 

“Come on, Zo. Of course I would. I'm just a bit under the weather, that's all.”

Tired, food on the stove, under the weather? Shit. 

You should just stick to one excuse and run with it. He's never going to believe you like this. 

His hand feels hot against your skin, and so strong. A safety line. And you want to keep him there for as long as possible. 

Unwillingly, you raise your hand and cover his, forcing a smile on your lips. “I'm fine, really.”

He squeezes your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin softly. “You sure?”

Bzzzz. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. 

With a shaky breath, you fall back, pushing yourself away from him. 

“Yeah, talk tomorrow, okay?”

But you don't let him answer and close the door. You can't pretend anymore. Not when hot, wet tears are burning your eyes, not when your heart is pounding madly against your ribcage, not when your legs give out and you fall to the floor. 

Your hands fly to your mouth and you stifle your sobs against them. It's only when you hear Zoro's car driving away that you reach for your phone, where a mountain of texts stares at you. 

Unknown: Don't let him touch you, Kitten.  Unknown: Tell him you're fine.  Unknown: Tell him you don't need him.  Unknown: You only need me.  Unknown: What did I say about him touching you?  Unknown: Move away, Kitten!  Unknown: You're being very naughty. This won't do.  Unknown: I'm very displeased.  Unknown: That's it, move away. Close the door.  Unknown: Good girl. All is well.  Unknown: You're mine. No one can touch you.  Unknown: No one will touch you.  Unknown: All mine. 

You don't quite know how long you sit on the cold, hard floor, staring at the possessive, disturbing texts. 

You don't quite know how this situation escalated so fast and so far. 

You don't quite know how to feel or what to do in order to escape. 

All you know is that you feel trapped. 

And so, so scared. 

-*-

You don't sleep, even though you locked all the doors, all the windows, and checked them all three times before climbing into your room. 

And even there, you lock the door. The one door you never once locked in your life. 

You spend the night curled into a ball, trying to disappear against the headboard. Flinching at every little sound your old house makes. Every shadow looks threatening, every sound is overwhelming. 

You can't do this. 

You can't be controlled by an invisible threat. You need to tell Zoro. 

You make up your mind. As soon as you get up and take care of the animals, you'll march into the police station and speak to Zoro and his captain. If the police know about it, Zoro is going to be safe. 

He has to be. 

You can't face this alone, and you need him. He'll know what to do, how to find who this man is, how to make this stop. 

Zoro will know what to do. 

-*-

The knocks on the door follow the rooster’s call by around fifteen minutes, and you raise your brow. 

Everything seems less menacing with the morning light. The shadows are no longer threatening since they're brighter, and the sounds are merry, instead of haunting. 

And now that you’ve decided to tell Zoro about your torment, the fear seems far away. 

But you're not expecting anyone this early. “Who is it?” Your voice sounds hoarse and distant. 

“It's Ace, Princess, open up.”

A sigh of relief parts your lips as you unbolt the lock. “Morning, Ace. Want some coffee?”

He looks a bit worried, a single line furrowing his brows as he scratches beneath his ridiculous cowboy hat. “Later. I got started earlier since I have a morning shift at the station, and I waited until I saw you were up, but one of the cows is sick. I called the vet, and they should be here any minute now.”

“What? Oh, no!” You love those cows, some of which you've known your whole life. So, you grab an apple from the counter and close the door, following Ace into the barn. 

Texts, phone, and worries, all forgotten inside the walls of your home as something else takes the forefront of your mind. 

-*-

Ace leaves a bit before his shift starts, but the vet arrives quickly. The sick cow is one of the younger ones, and you spend the better part of the morning with her and the vet, taking a break to make some sandwiches for both of you to serve as a meager lunch while trying to fulfill the rest of the chores and still care for your poor sick cow. 

For a moment, your heart constricts, the thought of losing an animal a weight hanging heavy on your shoulders, but it passes the moment the vet sighs with exhaustion and assures you that the cow is fine. Tired, battered, and hungry, but fine. And she will live. 

You offer some refreshments to the vet since the afternoon sun is already starting its descent in the sky, and it's only after the vet leaves and you sit in your kitchen, tired and weary, that you pick up your phone, which had been forgotten inside the house for most of the day. 

Dread spreads its tendrils across your veins, sending icy chills through you as you stare at the screen. 

Three unanswered calls and half a dozen messages. 

All from Zoro. 

Zoro: Hey, Trouble, just wanted to check in with you, but you must be busy. Call me back.  Zoro: How are you feeling? Still haven't called me back, need anything?  Zoro: Shit, Trouble, I was selected to go on a week-long training retreat with other cops from other stations. It's random and mandatory. The commissioner pulls one of these every now and then. I'll be unreachable. Call me back, will you? 

Unreachable? A week? 

No, no, no! 

You fight the urge to immediately call him as you skim through the other texts. 

Zoro: I'm about to leave, Trouble. I tried calling you again, still nothing. Is everything all right? I can't leave the station now. Call me!  Zoro: Okay, I just spoke with Ace. I hope your cow is feeling better but this is really the last chance to speak to me before I leave. For a week.  Zoro: Be safe, Trouble. Call Nami if you need anything, will you? 

Shit. 

He's gone. Just like that. 

The phone stares at you mercilessly from the table, as if taunting you. Why didn't you bring it with you outside? You needed to speak to Zoro. You wanted him to know. You wanted his help. 

Now you're all alone. 

And someone is watching your every move, making you feel small, trapped, and scared.

Unknown: Don't worry, Kitten. He may be gone, but I've got you.  Unknown: I won't let anyone hurt you.  Unknown: You're mine.

Taglist: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @lycoriskalmia @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium

Chapter 7

[iridescentparkers]

vanilla palm trees → four - salted caramel kisses

vanilla palm trees → four - salted caramel kisses

summary ⇢ it’s been years, he should get over it, right? but, peter just can’t. he looks up, he sees her. he goes to bed, he dreams of her. he wakes up, he can smell her. he goes out one night and he sees…her. no, not gwen but his ticket to stop moping around on the anniversary of her death. what is meant to be one quick night of putting sadness on the back burner, is now a blossoming new love that feels all too perfect for peter. was this new woman in his life meant to be? or was this just another set of poorly dealt cards that would leave him walking away empty handed. all or nothing, right? ↝ college!au ↝ one night stand gone wrong trope | masterlist

parings ⇢ tasm!peter parker x female reader

warnings ⇢ alcohol use, lots of mentions of death, sexual themes

a/n ⇢ this one is long - 2.5k words, but i think its my favorite so far!!!!! also please lmk what you guys think in my inbox!

“YOU’RE GLOWING,” Harry teased as Peter shut their apartment door last weekend.

Peter Parker found himself slightly swooned by his evening guest. Days would pass, and Peter would find himself daydreaming like a schoolgirl about when he would see her again. The only problem was he forgot to get her number.

Shit. 

He would sit on his couch and open his laptop, watching as the search engine glared back at him. Think, what would be the best place to start? 

The Trenton! 

That has to be her last name. Duh! And what do you know, a Y/N Trenton does exist! Thousands of results show up. You name it, it's there. Even old news articles.

Should he message her on Facebook? No, she’s older but not 40.

Instagram. Great. On his computer, he sees that she has 10k followers and 162 posts. 

Wow. She’s stunning. He shouldn’t, but he scrolls a bit, finding some old photos. Dozens from her USC days where she had blunt bangs and florescent pink lip color. 

Scrolling down, he clicked on one of her at a college party. He scrolled through the page to see the five other pictures on the post until he eventually stopped. The photos were covered in a golden filter, with Y/N practically devouring this one dude's face. 

Maybe not devouring, but she looks pretty happy kissing his face. He was blonde, with light eyes, nothing like Peter. It stung a bit, but it was from 6 years ago. It couldn’t mean anything now. 

But what in the world was he going to say to her? Peter was so lost, he never had to slide into a girl's DM’s. Eww, it was so odd to think about that. 

“Hey,” he typed out before deleting it, maybe three times with varying amounts of y’s and e’s. 

Then there was “Hi,” or “Hiiiiiii,” or “Sup girl.” No, please do not think like Harry. 

“Hi, Y/N. Remember me? Would you like to meet up for lunch this Thursday?”

“That seemed relatively normal. Right?” He murmured under his breath but, he scratched his head as the pondering developed into pure confusion.

“And, send,” Harry announced after hovering over the couch and Peter’s shoulder to send the DM. 

“Harry!” Peter shouted. “Why the hell would you send that?”

Harry grabbed the laptop after hopping over the couch and Peter snarled as he sat by him. 

“I’m just doing you a favor?”

“Really? First, you tell me to put myself out there, which I do. Next, you butt into my personal life, sending messages that I have no idea were a good idea or not! I mean, why can’t you just leave me alone? What if she doesn’t want to see me again!”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Harry smiled, watching the screen from his lap.

“How the hell would you know?”

“Just see for yourself,” he announced as he turned the laptop around. There sat a reply, 2 seconds ago from Y/N.

“I’d love to.” It read, and Peter smiled to himself for his sweet date this week.  

“You’re welcome.”

“HOW’S SCHOOL?” Y/N asked, walking down the New York City street.

“Hard,” Peter informed, walking alongside her. “Finals are coming up before the break, so I’m studying as much as I can before the weekend is over.”

She nodded, turning her body sideways as she slid between moving bodies. 

“Wow, this is so cool!” She smiled, running up to the nearby paper stands. “The new Spiderman comics. My brother loves them, but I have never seen them in person.”

Peter giggles at her fascination with the book, watching as she flips through the colorful pages. “I never read them, but I always see them on the corner.” 

Peter raised his brows as he gazed at the array of colorful printed books, “Wow, there are hundreds of them.”

“I know, but he always gets them as soon as they come out, or they sell out quickly.” She informed as she closed the book. “I’m talking like he’s a 10-year-old kid. He's a little older than you.” 

He laughed, pulled out his wallet, and gave the cashier some change. Her mouth gaped as he executed the gesture, Peter then putting a small hand in front of her. "I insist. What do you think about Spiderman?”

Y/N looked between Peter and the book, her brows furrowing as she looked at Peter, “I think the work he does is cool. I don’t know much about him, but people love him.” 

"Mostly."

"Yeah, but I feel like those who dislike him are just mad at the fact that they don't have super cool web lasers that shoot from their arms," she laughed, making arm gestures to imitate the hero with her hands, and Peter then laughed. "He's making an impact on the city."  

Y/N gestured towards the printed comic in hand, looking at Peter’s expression, “Like at The Trenton, a local artist is doing a sculpture of multiple 3D spiderwebs layered with these comics and Spiderman newspapers.”

“I’d love to see it.” 

“You can. The only thing is, it won't be ready for another 3 weeks. I can take you to the opening,” she informed. “I will say, I think a lot about who he is. Is he a rogue cop? Some sort of scrawny underdog?” 

She spoke as she began putting the book in her bag as Peter paid the cashier. “Whoever he is, I think he’s a hero.” 

He felt a bit flattered at her sentiment, smiling as he listened to her interest in him as what she called “a hero.” Those words left the mouths of few but when they did, Peter filled with gratitude.

The phone in his pocket began to buzz, and Peter lifted it into his palm, “Damn it.” 

"What time is it?"

"A little past one." 

“What’s wrong?”

“I need to make this cake for a friend, and my Aunt says she can’t come over to help me later.” He informed. 

“I��could help.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, placing his phone back in his pocket as he hesitated, “Sure.” 

THEY FOUND THEIR WAY BACK TO PETER’S APARTMENT, Y/N giggling as she placed her bag down. “And you thought that was okay?”

Peter rubbed his nose, curling his lips as breathy chuckles fearfully left his lips, “I was 14 and thought the frosted tips were a ‘look.’” 

“It was definitely... a look.” She said, widening her eyes, moving them across the apartment  “Last time we were here, we uh…”

“Yeah,” he laughed, his eyes squinting as they met hers and laughed in a delightful unison. “I could use a drink. Beer?”

“You have nothing else in this house to drink?” She laughed, “College boys, I swear.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged, walking over and opening the door to his fridge.

“I’ll take one.”

“And I’ll get this recipe open. Feel free to look around.” 

Y/N moved around the apartment, looking at shelves and trinkets of stored memories between Peter and his roommate. Some shared, and others individualized. She moved to one of their bookshelves, grazing her fingers along the spines of varying albums and books on their shelf. She stopped at the one bright pink book, resting in the corner and drowning in the bland sea of book covers. 

The hot pink album was coated with foam stickers and glitter, some getting on the shelf and Y/N’s hands as she opened the book. 

Flipping to the first page, there sat a picture of Peter receiving a kiss from a girl with platinum blond bangs and pale skin, her fingers painted a baby pink nail color. 

“Who’s this?” 

Peter swallowed, as he placed two beers on the counter. “Gwen.”

“Why do you have this album with her in it?” 

Her tone wasn’t mad, more curious for his answer, “She made it for me when we were together.”

“And you still have it?”

“She passed,” he informed, raising his brows as his hands slid into his front pockets. “Around 6 years ago.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” He repeated, looking at the book in her hands. 

“I overstepped.” She stated, closing the book and placing it back on the shelf. 

He shrugged as his lips began to curl further inward on his mouth, “I said you could look around.”

It remained silent as Peter settled more ingredients on his center kitchen aisle, Y/N creeping closer in delicate footsteps, careful in their newfound silence. She sat on the barstool in his kitchen, folding her hands carefully into a neat knot in front of her.

Peter reaches for and guzzles his open beer. He locks his eyes on the ingredients, his long lashes fluttering as the cold liquid slides down his throat. Peter places the empty bottle on his counter, speaking softly as the beer bubbles build in his chest. “Why don’t we make a cake?”

“Okay,” she nods, revealing her smile as she moves to Peter’s side. “What kind?”

“It’s weird, I know, but salted caramel.” He stated, and she jutted her neck backward. “Exactly.”

“Where should I start?”

Peter swiftly travels to the speaker on his bookshelf, blasting rock music and nodding as the beats echo inside his apartment. Y/N’s head finds the beat as the song rushes beats over her stance. 

They whisk themselves around the kitchen, taking turns putting ingredients in the wet and dry bowls as the rhythm picks up under them. Peter reaches for three more drinks, the bottles clinking as they pile up in his trash can, and he wipes his lips free of the smeared alcohol. 

“I didn’t take you for a dancer?" She chuckled as he shook his head on her face, his brown locks tickling her features. 

“Me neither,” he yelled, lifting his head as his words fought with the blasting music. 

With each bottle, his moves got sloppier, and Y/N laughed each time a new move developed in his repertoire. Smiling, his eyes crinkled as he jounced his chest to the down beats of the song. Y/N laughs at his lack of rhythm, and Peter pulls her by her arm to his chest. He whisked Y/N to the kitchen island, swirling her in the air, and settling her down next to the now-panned cake batter. 

He leaned in close, kissing her lips, the wheaty beer taste sizzling on her lips. The kiss was sloppy but sensual as his tongue dipped into her mouth. He pulled her in deeper as his hand slung down to her lower waist, Y/N then pulled away as the oven beeped behind them. 

“The oven,” Y/N whispered as she pulled away. “You should put the cake in.” 

“Right, the cake.”

“WATER?” Peter asked, throwing his body next to Y/N on the couch.

She gave him a knowing look, playfully shoving him as he sat, “You first.”

“Pfft,” he waved, sinking his body on the furniture. “I’m fine.”

His words slurred as his drunken eyes wandered to Y/N’s figure. ”Peter, are sure?” 

He huffed, pointing a finger to his bookcase, “That girl, Gwen. The one you saw earlier in the scrapbook…”

“Her favorite was salted caramel...everything. Salted caramel coffee, salted caramel chocolate, salted caramel ice cream, and especially salted caramel cake. She had it for her birthday every year.” 

“And when is her birthday?”

“Tomorrow.” 

Her lips formed a thin line as she scratched the open part of her chest. She immediately nodded as she pushed her legs from her chest, Peter moving his eyes down her body.  “I don’t want your pity.” 

She raised her brows as she chuckled, the air seeping through her teeth, “I wasn’t going to give you any. Why would you think that?”

“Everyone does.” He wavered. “They all want to tell me where I need to be, when to go out, when to...date. When to talk about her, when not to talk about her.” 

“I mean this, truly, in the nicest way.” She began, placing a hand on his leg. “You said it's been 6 years? Why do you still care about what others think?”

“Because I don’t have much family left,” he informed, slurring his words as he flailed his loose arms in the air. “I need to make them happy.”

“You don’t need to, you want to.” She corrected. “And if they truly loved you, as long as you are happy, they wouldn’t care. At all.” 

“You’re right.” he trailed, “But, I’m not happy. You’re the first date I’ve had in 6 years.”

“You were in high school!” Y/N exclaimed, hitting the back of her hand gently on his shoulder. 

He shrugged,  “I still could have put myself out there in college.”

“Not everyone finds the love of their life in high school and college. Believe me.”

“What does that mean?”

Y/N pursed her lips as she looked towards her feet, “Nothing.”

Peter put a hand on her knee, leaning closer to her figure, “Tell me.”

“I was engaged to a man I met in college,” she began, glancing vaguely at the left hand in her lap. “About three months ago, he died in a car crash.”

Was it the guy from her pictures?

Peter’s expression softened as he reached for her hand, pulling it to his. “M’Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” she began, her voice softening as she avoided eye contact “I found out, the day I met you, he was having an affair with his secretary. And now, she’s asking for some of his things because she claims, 'he loved her too.'” 

 “Y/N”

“Like you said, I don’t want your pity. I’m okay.” 

“I’m too drunk to give pity,” he slurred, drooping his head to her knees, inhaling as he leaned on her body, forcing her to drop her knees, and his head fell in her lap. She ran a gentle hand along his head, rubbing it slowly along his head.

He lazed in the physical contact, before grabbing her hand from his head. He pulled it to his chest, moving it to the cadence of his soft speech, “Vanilla.” 

“What?” she questioned. 

“You smell like her. Gwen,” he began, raising her hand to his nose and inhaling her scent, “Gwen used to wear some perfume. I forgot the name. I think it was like Vanilla Palm Tree or some sugary scent. I only remember she always smelt like Vanilla mixed with…beach.”

She chuckled awkwardly, letting go of his grasp, “Vanilla mixed with beach? Peter, you are drunk.”

“No no,” he assured as his eyes fluttered shut. “It’s… It’s Vanilla Palm Tree.”

“I should leave.”

“It’s why I stayed and brought you home from the bar…”

Y/N felt as the smoke smell rushed through her airways, “You don’t smell that?”

“Smell…smell what..” he muttered as his limbs went limp.

“Peter!” 

Grey lines of smoke trailed the ceiling of his apartment, and Y/N shot up to Peter’s kitchen, “Lightweight...”

[belovedspector]

Photographs and Memories

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Content: Angst with a hopeful ending. Pre-outbreak.

A/N: Based on the song of the same name by Jim Croce. Yes, this is my second time writing a Joel fic based on a Jim Croce song. No, I'm not sorry about it. Enjoy! :)

Immersion Notice: I changed one little lyric to make this more inclusive ("Christmas cards you sent to me" became "Birthday cards you sent to me").

Masterlist

“Photographs and memories, Birthday cards you sent to me. All that I have are these, To remember you.”

“You’re doing it again,” Sarah says flatly from Joel’s bedroom doorway.

“Yeah, you caught me,” Joel acquiesces with a sigh. He sets the shoe box full of photographs that he’d been sifting through aside on the bed.

“You could call, you know. Make things right,” she suggests.

“No, I can’t,” he argues, but there’s no bite to it. He’s too tired for that.

It’s been like this for weeks now—Joel glumly looking back on your relationship, trying to figure out where it all went wrong. He keeps going back to the photos, where the two of you look so damn happy, and the birthday cards, where you’d poured your soul into heartfelt notes meant just for him. Where had he gone wrong? What had changed?

“Yes, you can.” His daughter’s voice brings him back to the present.

“Don’t you have homework to do, or something?” he asks gruffly.

“It’s summer, Dad,” she points out with a roll of her eyes.

“Right,” he mutters. He can’t help but take another glance at the open shoe box. The photo on top shows the two of you at the beach, Joel’s arm around your waist, sunglasses perched on top of your head as you smile brightly at the camera.

“Anyway, I’m going over to Stephanie’s house,” she says. “Please don’t still be sitting here when I get back.”

“Be safe!” he calls out to her as she walks away.

With a sigh, Joel puts the lid back on the shoe box and returns it to its spot on the floor of his closet.

“Memories that come at night, Take me to another time, Back to a happier day, When I called you mine.”

Joel’s lying wide awake in bed. He squints at the alarm clock on his bedside table. 2:51, the display reads.

He can’t stop thinking about you—about your smile, your voice, everything. He remembers the way you danced in the kitchen while cooking dinner, the way you laughed unabashedly loudly at his dumb jokes.

Joel sighs deeply as he looks up at the dark ceiling above him. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine you beside him in bed, sleeping peacefully. It wasn’t that long ago that that was his reality. Now, the other side of the bed is cold. He’s since washed the sheets, and the scent of your sweet perfume is no longer lingering on the pillowcase.

With a groan, he rolls over, pressing his face into his pillow. He needs to get a grip, move on with his life.

But he can’t. He can’t stop thinking about you, no matter what he does.

He sits up in bed, reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp, and grabs the book he’s been reading, resigning himself to yet another restless night.

“But we sure had a good time, When we started way back when. Morning walks and bedroom talks, Oh, how I loved you then.”

Joel’s staring straight ahead at the road as he drives to work, but his mind is elsewhere. He can’t help but think about you, sitting in the passenger’s seat, fiddling with the radio and sticking your hand out the window to feel the breeze between your fingers.

He thinks back to the beginning of your relationship—the “honeymoon phase,” Sarah had called it. That kid is wise beyond her years.

He thinks about the walks you’d take on weekend mornings. He’d hated it, at first, getting up at the crack of dawn when he could be sleeping in a little while longer, but your joy was infectious. You always admired the little things, took time to acknowledge the beauty of the world around you. You’d point out flowers on your walk, get excited anytime you passed a dog.

He thinks about lying on his side in the dark next to you, face mere inches away from yours, as you talked about everything and nothing, how you’d shared your greatest fears and hopes for the future.

He thinks about—

“Joel!” Tommy practically shouts, snapping him back to the present.

“What?” he snaps, irritated at having been interrupted. “You just drove past the site, dumbass,” Tommy says.

“Shit.”

“Summer skies and lullabies, Nights we couldn’t say goodbye. And of all of the things that we knew, Not a dream survived.”

Crickets chirp as Joel sits on his back porch, nursing a beer and looking up at the stars dotting the cloudless sky.

He can’t help but be transported to the night he’d taken you stargazing. He’d driven you out and away from the city and parked in a beautiful, quiet area. The truck bed was filled with pillows and blankets, allowing the two of you to lay side by side and look up at the sky. Joel had spent more time looking at you, though, at the way the starlight reflected in your wonder-filled eyes.

He takes a sip of his beer and remembers how hard it had been to say goodbye that night—or every night, really. He never wanted to leave your side, never wanted the night to end, and you felt the same.

And now, here he sits, all alone.

He thinks about all the plans he’d had for your future together, the future he was so sure about but now doesn’t exist, will never exist.

He thinks about the ring, still tucked safely away in his sock drawer.

“Photographs and memories, All the love you gave to me, Somehow it just can’t be true, It’s all I’ve left of you.”

It’s a rainy Saturday morning, and Joel is finally tackling the mess that is his desk, precariously stacked piles of paper taking over nearly every inch of its surface. As he picks up a random stack of papers, one falls, fluttering gently to the floor. The pale pink paper immediately catches his eye.

It’s the love letter you’d written for him last Valentine’s Day.

You’d been nearly sick with nerves when you’d given it to him, afraid that it was a stupid idea. He had assured you that he loved it with tears in his eyes. In truth, it was the sweetest gesture he had ever received.

He reads it back now, hearing your voice in his head as he reads your confession of love. It’s nothing he hadn’t heard a hundred times before, but, for some reason, seeing it written out made it more special, more real.

He’d give anything to hear you say you love him one more time.

He tucks the letter away in one of the desk’s drawers and gets back to work.

“But we sure had a good time, When we started way back when. Morning walks and bedroom talks, Oh, how I loved you then.”

It’s been months since you broke up. Joel still thinks about you, about what you had together, constantly. Despite Sarah’s attempts to play matchmaker with the new, single neighbor that moves in down the street, despite Tommy’s incessant teasing, Joel can’t move on.

He’s grocery shopping when it happens.

He sees a silhouette that looks suspiciously like yours. Then, the person turns around, and, sure enough, it’s you, looking as breathtaking as ever.

Joel feels like he can’t breathe. He drops the tomato he’d been inspecting as he watches you put a container of strawberries in your shopping basket from over the rows of produce.

It’s then that you look up, and your eyes meet his.

Joel’s heart skips a beat. He feels like a kid seeing their crush in the schoolyard.

You offer him a soft smile, and Joel feels fireworks exploding in his chest. He manages to give you a small wave back, but he’s sure he looks shell-shocked.

You walk down the aisle, and Joel thinks that that’s it. That would be enough, really, just getting to see your face in person after only having seen it in grainy photographs and in his mind’s eye for so long.

But, you surprise him. You turn down his aisle and approach him.

“Hi,” you say shyly, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

Suddenly, Joel’s mouth is very dry. “Hi,” he gets out after a moment.

“Listen, I—” you start.

“I’m sorry,” Joel blurts at the same time.

“I—what?” You look surprised.

“I’m sorry,” Joel repeats. “I’m sorry about how things ended. I want to make it right. Is there any chance that we could grab a coffee sometime?” He sounds desperate to his own ears, but he can’t help it.

You smile, and he can practically feel his broken heart mending itself back together. “Yes, I’d like that.”

Joel doesn’t know what will happen from here, but he’s thrilled at the prospect of creating new memories with you.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

[abbatoirablaze]

Ex Wive's Club, Chapter 11

Word Count:  1.7k

Warnings:  angst

“Well that was rough,” the superhero sighed to himself as he stepped back into the apartment, “really rough.”

The door closed with a soft click and Thor suddenly found himself confused.  There was no sounds of laughter or children playing in the spacious living room.  He’d known that Lily was supposed to have her daughter Maritza this weekend, but the little girl was so full of life, he was surprised to come into the apartment and feel like it was empty. 

In the background he could hear soft music playing, and a little bit of noise from the kitchen, but instead of seeing his girlfriend he went to Love’s room.

“Love?”

The little girl looked angry.  She’d had a scowl on her face, and was sitting on the floor with Mjolnir; drawing an angry face on him as well.

“What is the meaning of this?”

She turned Mjolnir so that they were both scowling at him, “Miss. Lily is mean…I don’t like her.  We don’t like her.”

“What?” he asked, brows furrowed, “What do you mean, Miss. Lily is mean?  What did she do, hmm?”

“All she does when you’re gone is yell at the deaf baby!” she frowned, “she made her daddy come pick her up and told me to go to my room…Miss. Lily is mean, and I don’t like her, Uncle Thor.”

“Miss Lily is a nice woman,” Thor tried to reply, “she jus-“

“She yelled at the deaf baby,” Love repeated, “you always told me that I should protect those who can’t protect themselves…and I don’t think that her baby can…she doesn’t do anything wrong, and yet her mommy is mean to her.”

“Come here,” Thor sighed, sitting on the bed.  Love hesitantly walked over to him, and he picked her up, sitting her on his lap, “Miss. Lily is a different kind of maiden.  She-she doesn’t know how to communicate with Maritza…I don’t think that makes her mean, do you?”

“She says things about her when you’re not around…” Love replied sadly, looking away from him, “she says things that nice ladies wouldn’t say.”

“Well then…what do you say we talk to her, hmm?”

Love gave him a look, “I don’t want to talk to her, Uncle Thor.”

“But what about your dinner?”

“She made those meat nuggets that were shaped like animals.”

“Dino nuggets.  You love those!” he smiled, pointing out the fact that she was at least putting in the effort to make something that Love had liked, “see…she pays attention.”

“I hate dino nuggets.”

“What?  No you don’t.”

“Yes I do!”

Thor frowned, “I will go talk to her then…okay?”

“Good!” she huffed, hopping off of Thor’s lap, “kick the mean lady out.”

Thor’s heart felt like it skipped a beat as she giggled with her friend, “Stark…tell me.  Who is that maiden in the blue dress?”

Tony rolled his eyes, continuing to take a swig of his drink, “one of the girls that came along for the Storm sendoff party.  Not any of our normal crowd.”

But Thor was captivated. 

She seemed so full of life.  So happy. 

And then their eyes met. 

He felt his own smile taking hold of his face as he looked at her. 

With a confidence that shook the god, she smiled back at him, and walked over.

His brow furrowed as he looked at the table. 

The fancy dinner had been arranged for two.  There was a candle in the middle, with flower petals spread about, and it was obvious that she had only meant for the evening to be for the two of them. 

He frowned. 

“What’s wrong?”

“There’s no plates for Love or Maritza…”

She giggled, setting down the bottle of wine before making her way over to him, and wrapping her arms around his neck, “no…I had Curtis pick her up, and I fed Love earlier…I was thinking that we have some mommy/daddy time just for ourselves.”

He ignored he hand that slunk away from his neck and down his chest until she attempted to slide it into his pants.  His own hand reached out and caught it.  She gave him a look, but refused to move. 

“The children-“

“I already told you.  Curtis picked up Maritza.  And Love is in her room for the night.”

“For the night?”

“Yes…so its just us…”

“Lily-I-I don’t think this is going to work!” Thor said slowly, pushing away from his girlfriend.  She stared at him as he physically put space between the two of them.

“Thor…what are you saying?”

“I-I don’t think that we…us…I don’t think we can work through this.  We are just far too different…and we value different things.  I think that we should break up.”

“Daddy?” Evan asked, looking at his father.  Ransom turned away from his baby girl and looked at his five year old son.

“What did you need, buddy?”

“Why don’t you love us anymore?”

Ransom had stood, shell-shocked for nearly a full minute before he asked his son what he’d meant.  But the five year old was in full belief that Ransom no longer loved them since he and Jess had split.  He’d gone through a daze the rest of the visitation, nearly forgetting that he’d still had half a day left with them, as he took them from the park, back to Jess’ apartment. 

And it was there, that Ransom had confronted his ex wife.

“Well why the fuck would he ask me that, huh?”

“Maybe because he feels that way, Hugh.”

Ransom felt his heart breaking, “I love him…just like I love Rose…and I love you.”

Tears instantly pricked at her eyes, “Ransom…stop!”

“Well I do!”

“If you loved me you never would have cheated on me with Lily’s mother!” she spat, glaring at him, “when you love someone you don’t do that.”

She had started to walk away, but Ransom was quick to pull her back; catching her by the arm, “we were talking, Jess.”

“And I was done!” she reminded him; the tears now freely flowing down her cheeks as her voice cracked ever so slightly, “I’m not going to go through this all over again, Hugh.  Our son asked you that because he feels unloved by you.  That’s not something I put in his head.  That’s something he’s witnessed!”

“I get them every weekend.  I-“

“Seeing them once a week is different than being there every single day!” she growled, cutting him off as she ripped her arm from his, “getting him from Kindergarten, or reading his bedtime stories, or being there for dinner and bath times, it’s all different than one day a week where sometimes he gets to go to spend the day with you, and other times it’s Harlan.”

“He loves Harlan!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, HUGH!”

“Then what are you saying, huh?  That I’m not a good enough dad?”

“YOU’RE NOT!”

Ransom, for the first time ever, felt completely and utterly hopeless with the two words spat at him by his ex wife. 

“I-I’m trying, Jess.”

“No,” she said quickly, wagging her finger at him, “no, you don’t get to act like that.  Not when you’re the one that started this all.  You don’t get to pull your Drysdale bullshit over my eyes.”

Ransom’s head cocked, “what?”

“Lily tried to do the same exact thing with Curtis, you know,” she replied quickly, “she guilt tripped him and made it seem like everything was his fault, when it was all hers.  And you’re doing the same exact thing here!  You cheated.  You fucked up.  You are the one not spending time with Evan and Rose.”

“Jes-“

“No…this is the same shit that Lily put Curtis through,” she scoffed, “and the worst part is…I already let you put me through it once already when I had Evan.”

“Jess that-“

“I was fine when I walked away!” she argued, cutting him off yet again, “I wasn’t so attached then, and I made it through.  Evan and I were fine without you.  But now-Hugh, I’m barely holding it together as it is now!  Everything that you put me through…you-you made me love you.  You made me fall in love with you all over again, and then you promised me some fairytale.  And I fucking believed it.  I let myself think that everything was going to be okay, and we got married, and I had another baby with you…and then BOOM!  Like a slap across the face, she happened.  You went right back to her!  I was nothing to you!”

“Baby, you-“

“No! she hissed, pulling away from him as he tried reaching out to her once more, “NO!  Don’t touch me.  I may not have told our son that you are a shit human being, and that you didn’t love us…but he saw it firsthand.  And he’s not a toddler anymore.  He’s smart, Hugh.  He sees you for who you really are.”

“That’s not me, Jess.”

“Hugh, stop!” she commanded, “it is…you-you’re just using us all!  But I’m sick of being some pawn that you come crawling back to, claiming that I meant something.”

“You do…baby, you always have!” he began, “I know I fucked up.  I do…I wasn’t-you know that I wasn’t okay that day.  I never wanted to hurt you!”

This time Jess let him touch her when he reached out for her, and he was quick to take advantage of it, pulling her into his arms.  She began to sob against his chest, “I want to hate you…I jus-“

“Baby, stop!” Ransom begged, “I can’t stand thinking you hate me…I can’t stand when you think that you and the kids don’t mean the world to me, because you do!”

“We don’t, Hugh-“

He stopped her words, lifting her chin until he was looking at her.  And before she could finish her sentiment, his lips came crashing against hers in a heated, broken kiss.  She shuddered against him, her body wracking as she sobbed; a broken mother and divorcee just wanting to feel wanted. 

“I can’t do this!” she whimpered, pulling away from him, “Hugh, we can’t do-“

“Stop,” he begged once more, “Just let me prove it baby…let me show you.  I love you…I love you so fucking much.”

Chapter 12

Tag List:  @Cjand10, @huntress-artemiss, @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @elbell20-blog

[winderlylandchime]

I’ve been waiting for 2x04 bc it’s one of my faves so i should say this ep was watched after his check up where he told a nurse about it and the nurse told him he actually watched it when it aired. To which my brother went ‘well watch it again bc I have to talk to someone about it man, she *points to me* is about as useful as an ashtray on a motorcycle.’ Anyway: ‘oh it’s pride weekend? Wait WEEKEND? Don’t you fuckers get a whole month? *points at me* dont start, that was meant lovingly’.. ‘so Godiva is like the Trixie of Libery Avenue? That reminds me i gotta watch her new youtube video..’ ‘maybe.. the reason your drink isn’t selling is that hair, sir that is outrageous!..why is he helping a homophobe. Although he’s just an employee so i get it, ill allow it one time Bri Bri’ ‘oh she has a motorcycle? I do too! Maybe this is how i start to like Mel..but mine is broken bc i fell..*he is currently sad over the motorcycle*’ at this point he was so angry at Mikeys coworkers that he paused the ep, went outside for a smoke, came back looked at the tv and went ‘not cool guys, that’s just tacky’ ‘who’s godiva again?! THE LIBERTY VERSION OF TRIXIE IS GONE?! OH NO POOR TRIX- i mean godiva’ ‘OKAAAY TED GET YOURSELF SOME DICK! Good for you! Maybe less talking bc it doesn’t seem to be your thing’… ‘is he making the drink gay? well that’s- WHY DID HE PUT ON THE GOOGLES TO SUCK HIS DICK? SIR YOU WILL CHOK- well i guess that the point’ he got very sad at the scene of Justin painting the sign. He forgot Justin was an artist and now he’s sad bc he can’t do it anymore..’ITS JEN! AT PFLAG! I knew i could count on you! She reminds me of our mom (cut to me saying our mom is a black woman) well..i didn’t specify HOW she reminds me-you know what? Leave me alone, I’m clearly going through something..oh god the shirt. I’m happy for her but Michael would not make me proud…unless he changes like 60 things about himself overnight’ btw he is feeling so proud of himself rn bc he swears that he is “chill” all while bouncing his leg so much my house is shaking. ‘IS THAT THAT BAT FUCKER?!! AT A GAY HOSPICE?! IS THIS SOME KIND OF A FUCKING JOKE?! HE DID NOT JUST WISH AIDS ON HIM AND DURING PRIDE?! oh kid i am your biggest fucking enemy right now, i hope you have an explosive diarrhea’ ‘okay so Mel used to be fun? What happened? Where did she go wrong?…A PITY FUCK?! TED DESERVES BETTER! WHAT KIND OF FUCKED UP JOKE IS THIS! That guy wasnt even that pretty so don’t worry Ted’ he got mad again here but less mad then before so no smoke break! ‘Oh he sobered up fast when he realized it wasnt a dream. Bri bri we need to talk about how youre in love. I swear I won’t tell anyone! OH FINALLY I AGREE WITH MIKE, IT WAS A SICK JOKE! Oh..i just know if that fucker did anything, Brian would be fighting right now..now i want to see Brian throw a punch, do you think he knows how to?..OH NO JUSTY, WE ARE GOING TO PRIDE! You are supposed to be proud of..wait what is he supposed to be proud of? Dick sucking skills? *looks at me genuinely* id be proud of that if i was him’ ‘oh my god! The ugly hair homophobe! NOW WHY DID HE SAY THE F WORD?! HE ISNT ALLOWED TO SAY THAT WHAT THE HELL! AND DURING PRIDE?! FUCK YOU!’ And we are back outside for a smoke break.. not to make my brother a liar from the last ep but he is NOT calm. ‘Okay im cool again..as long as no hetero pisses me off anymore. I love that big flag! Do you think they filmed this during actual pride?..WE ARE NOT LETTING BAT FUCKER WIN! Okay seriously now, how bad is Brians mom because he keeps making people march with their moms.. is that bc she wouldn’t do it if she kne- oh god i am now sad for Brian wanting to march with his mom but cant. This is too much for me to handle on a random Friday!..oh brian knew about that fucker? You know what? Hes a little rude but he keeps wanting everyone to just be them. I fuck with that! I shall do that too! But after i get back to my normal life bc this *waves hands* is not it’ 1/2 of 2x04

ANON I AM SCREAMING.

Your brother being pissed about Brian working for a homophobe... wait until he gets to Stockwell arc.

Does your brother watch...drag race? Is he a Trixie Mattel fan? I am seriously dying over this. Comparing Godiva to Trixie... bless. I don't know how accurate I feel that comparison is but I would need to sit with it to think of a better comparison. I take my drag race comparisons seriously.

Mel used to be cool... what happened? Lindsay! LOL

And that bat fucker! I love it. He's so protective over Justin and Brian. He's so worried about what Joan did to Brian and your brother is in for a sad sad shock.

And his take on Brian and Ted - "He keeps wanting everyone to just be them" is so so so accurate.

Your brother may be high off his butt on painkillers but he's very accurate in his takes.

[scrval]

from @loiyaltie: "The concert went well, I hear..." Gaze scans the workshop as Gepard enters out of habit, blue hues coming to settle upon his older sister soon after. He hears, because he has had little time to attend in person, working more hours than he ought to, covering for the losses. He feels guilty he has failed her once again... but his duty must always come first. "When are you rehearsing next? I'll try to be there..." It's easier to organise the time to be there for the rehearsals and he prefers them, if he's honest. At least there's time to converse between attempts to chase the perfect rendition and a quieter atmosphere.

           "geppie!"

           the name comes out like a song, bright and sustained with all the energy of thunder. serval's accompanying smile is equally brilliant. hands drop the gadget they'd been tinkering with, and she moves from behind the counter to greet her brother properly.

           "oh yeah, the concert was fun! i'm pretty sure i saw some of your men in the crowd~" she responds teasingly, eyes sparkling with the memory of a fun night. the shine loses its luster, however, when she takes notice of gepard's more sullen demeanor— the way his voice trailed off, or his eyes cast slightly downwards. serval pouts.

           "hey, now, what's that sorry face for?" serval's hands reach up towards gepard's shoulders in a consoling motion. she huffs— no, she knows exactly what it's for. he feels bad: for being out of her life, for constantly being gone. she gets why he'd think that. she'd go so far as to admit that he's not wrong for feeling that way: she's lonely, damn it. such is the burden of being the prodigal daughter. but she chose the life of a rockstar and her brother chose one of a landau. she's not about to demand his time— time that he can and should spend for nobler pursuits.

           "geppie, i hope you know that you don't owe me your time. really. your job's important to you and i respect that. if you wanna go to a mech fever rehearsal just because you feel bad, then i'd rather you not go at all." she gives him a small smile. not one of those dazzling rock 'n roll grins that send sparks through the audience; just a slight curve of the mouth, meant for him and him alone. serval squeezes his shoulders.

           "but if you just wanna have a rockin' good time with your awesome sister, then i'm happy to announce that we'll be rehearsing next weekend after sundown. so i'll see you here if you're up for it, yeah?"

[stiricidewrites]

All the Things We’ll Leave Behind: ch 38, pt 11

Have an awesome weekend~

Previously

~

lwj kicked hard as he moved himself away from the location of his sabotage. His lungs screamed at him, and as he surfaced, he sucked in a deep breath. He was about to head back down—he still had a piece to find, after all—when a commotion on the platform drew his attention.

“This is so stupid!” jzxun screamed at the attendant.

The other alpha had climbed out of the water to get right in the attendant’s face. The attendant did not look happy, and lwj wished they’d have the courage to push the moody alpha back into the water. They probably wouldn’t—it was never a good decision to mess with the Jins, even if most of their members deserved what was coming to them.

“The pieces aren’t there!” jzxun continued screaming. Nearby, his partner was hovering, looking surprisingly confident as they lent their existence to their teammate’s screams. lwj wasn’t sure if it was to her credit or detriment that she was facing the attendant with the same confidence her partner was. She was standing behind jzxun’s tantrum, which was commendable, in a way, but the man had clearly lost it. Realistically, she should have run off, although that would come with its own set of problems.

“Sir—” the attendant started to say, only to be cut off by more of jzxun’s screaming.

“Look!” he yelled, arms spreading wide as he turned and motioned to the other groups, more and more of whom seemed to have given up in their search for the missing pieces. “Nobody can find all their pieces! Obviously, something has gone wrong!”

Ah. So that was it. Not a sabotage of his competition, but some sort of plot to throw off the whole game—or perhaps both. Given the man’s group only had a few of their pieces, lwj could understand why he might be trying to get the attendant to fold. They had extra copies of all pieces, in case a piece actually ended up lost, which could be doled out to everyone. Those extras, as far as lwj knew, were only meant to be used if a specific piece was missing for multiple rounds of the challenge—that was one of the problems with this challenge.

One of your pieces could be lost, and you’d never know. Potentially, you could search and search while every other team found all their pieces, solved their own puzzles, and there was little you could do about it. In theory, you received a special credit once it was discovered a piece was missing, but the psychological blow of the loss could have serious ramifications in real games—at least according to nmj.

Personally, lwj couldn’t imagine taking these games so seriously that not being able to find a single puzzle piece on the lake bed would traumatize him or affect his participation in the rest of the challenges—not in that way, anyways. There was a small chance he’d be purposefully picking out ways to mess with jzxun, now that he knew the man was playing dishonestly.

[moxiemaemaple]

Dear diary~ 002

I hate change. This force to a new place has left me with little energy. I compare a lot, something I can't help. I'll miss so much but my past is over. A new life, fresh start. I feel stripped though. Empty.

I got a BF bifta given to me as my first vehicle. Dressed it up barbie style. I guess it gets me around and is a bit safer than a scooter which was what I was trying to buy originally. I've already trashed it up a few times trying to take it offroading. Turns out its a dune bungee, just meant for driving on the sand and nothing too crazy.

I made a friend, Tom Tom. He wears a mask always. Its a freaky clown mask but you know, it matters who is deep under it all and he turns up and makes me smile. I've been trying to connect with some of the girls at the UwU cafe. Everything is just overwhelming. Socializing is something I fake being good at but really it drains the fuck out of my energy. I just often feel like falling asleep trying to communicate, even just thinking about it…

I've been pouring into trying to take photos, get back to feeling good about myself. Its insanely hard. This persona of mine is taxing to upkeep. I love Barbie, don't get me wrong, though the bubbly personality with a big bright smile is hard to maintain in all these new social situations. I kinda often don't know what to say, just end up giggling and feeling so awkward. People take it as me just being adorable so suppose the truth of how I feel isn't showing as much as I think. Over analyzing as always.

The fashion here isn't the same. Its ok…not what I'm use to. I miss some of my old possessions. I try not to think about what is gone. Its just gone. Too much lingering on the topic breaks me. So I spend a lot of money on clothes to try to feel a bit more complete. Typical hole to sink into. I don't have any desire to make a savings anymore. With how many cities I've skipped its pointless…fucking just hurts more if you got something to lose.

Its like people get off humbling you when you got something.

Dumping too much angst in here. Have to put it somewhere. This weekend was just rough for me. First week out of jail in a new place. Called homeless. Some bitch wanted to shoot me cause of how my hair looked. Lots of clowns which is slightly triggering considering my last toxic relationship. Weird vibes, no one does dope here. No one fucking parties. Everyone is one that grind. Just feel so disconnect coming back into society. Just trying to make due while dealing with a lot of hurt still.

I'm an alien. How I feel. Beam me up already so I can feel some what sane finally.

Another positive…I have career opportunities I never had before where I had been settled. May have lost a lot but I could open The Hippie Pillow Fort. My own place… No bosses. No getting scolded. No having to try and fit into a box to make my coworkers happy. I should feel some weight lifted off me just typing that…I'll get there.

The music is good here. Someone released a catchy tune about goth chicks and its a bop. I need a, 'Big titty goth bitch, who watches true crime'~ by Thumper, should check it out! Music is one of those things that keeps me going. Life would insanely dark without melodies of all types.

[kingkestrel]

I’m about to write an essay so let me just put it under the cut. Tldr: that’s autism tho.

Okay if you’re still here let me list some other things I’ve noticed about these two that are a little autistic.

Now don’t get me wrong this is in no way a diagnosis or meant to cause offence but these two have tendencies. It’s ofc a spectrum and everyone lands on it somewhere. Some just further than others.

Also I won’t be linking anything because I’m lazy…

1. Parallel Play

Now this is only a head canon by op but it is interesting that we consider it something Max and Oscar would do.

Parallel Play is when two people spend time together but prefer to do it whilst doing their own separate activities, often without engaging much with each other. (More common in autistic friendships)

2. Hyper Fixation/Monotropism

This one is the most obvious. They are both very committed to F1 and motorsports. Oscar has almost no hobbies outside of racing (He’s admitted himself that all he does is sleep… and sometimes play video-games) and When Max isn’t racing he’s racing…

3. Eye Contact

Now I know what you’re thinking, they both have great eye contact and that’s the thing… they both have a tendency to stare which is actually a common masking/ camouflaging technique.

Oscar ‘heart eyes Piastri’ is obvious but Max is also often described as having very intense eye contact by interviewers. (Katy Fairman from the Small Torque Podcast mentions that she was warned about it by other interviewers before her first interview with Max.)

4. Logic and Bluntness

Both have similar blunt dry humour.

What immediately comes to mind is Max during the Redline stream. He’s wished a happy Mother’s Day and Max’s deadpan response of “I’m not a mother.” That’s Logic based blunt humour at its best.

My mind has gone blank on for an Oscar example but his delivery is also very deadpan.

But Oscar will also get stuck or fixated on small elements of a conversation. There’s the example of the “you don’t like red” from the Guess the Lyrics video, there’s also Oscar getting confused with the rock-paper-scissors before the Pictionary video and there’s also a great example where he fixates on things… ugh I can’t remember it but he’s asked a question about something and he misunderstands a word and thinks the interviewer is talking about virtual or sim racing… anyways. Edit: This!!

Other tendencies:

Oscar’s apparent dislike of physical touch, changing ASAP after getting covered in champagne (not liking the sensation?) having long nails because he hates the feeling of them being short

Max’s dislike of loud noises.

Their shared loved of Max-splaning/Oscribing (Need for debriefs)

Very boring/ safe wardrobes, Oscar wears the same beat up pair of Nikes almost every weekend, Max and his multipack T-shirts

Is it calmness and composure/Mad Max or simply a difficulty expressing expressions??/ autistic joy? (Oscar after his wins comes to mind)

Oscar has facial ticks, winking and lip twitch, especially when thinking hard

You can draw your own conclusions but that’s the things I’ve noticed that suggest Max and Oscar might skew a little towards autistic.

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

back on my maxoscar bullshit. you know how some people are like. same person different font. the deadpan humour, almost incredibly blunt and could be borderline mean but somehow they keep it on the sane vector. not taking anything too seriously while taking their job incredibly seriously. just pure logic and determination at the expense of maybe everything else. insanely singleminded about doing the thing they want and everything in life falling into place in service of that. minimal noise, minimal distraction, maximum performance.

and also like. these are the two people you’d find who probably snuck off from the party to sit in a room, and one is building lego in absolute silence and the other is plugged in playing on their switch and their friends walk in like “what are you doing??” and they both just shrug.

oscar's like "we're hanging out". and max blurts out “just because we are having some quiet time does not mean we are not being social”.

[devildomdisaster]

Idk if you read Lore Olympus but chapter 129 gave me an angsty request idea.

So Persephone, who’s the goddess of spring, goes into a hibernation-like state and when her emotions go out of control, she ends up growing her hair really long and her body sprouts a lot of plants from her; to the point of covering her and whatever area she’s in with her plants.

So I would like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC who gets really sad whenever the brothers insult or threaten them and after several weeks of being berated by demons it causes MC to shut down and go to their room but mistakes a comfort spell with a plant curse that causes their hair and plants to grow continuously long. The plants fill up MC’s room and while they would normally be surprised at the mistake, they don’t care any more. They allow the plants to to grow, even wrap around their neck and body, and hopes the curse kills them off before the brothers notice as they go in the “hibernation” stage of the curse (The curse causes the victim to grow a lot of plants and vines from their body until they die, which can take a few days).

I’m sorry for being so long and descriptive, I just wanna see the Bros panic and feel guilty that MC felt pushed to do this to themselves but I understand if you don’t want to do it

I don't read Lore Olympus but you described the situation really well so I hope this is something close to what you wanted.

Comfort spell gone wrong

Lately, nothing seemed to be good enough for the demons. No matter what you did one of them would find something to berate you for.

“Mc, your grades are subpar even for an exchange student. You’ll have to try harder in order to not be a disappointment to Diavolo and myself.” Lucifer warned over breakfast.

“Mc, you burned dinner. You should learn to be a better cook.” Beel grumbled. As if you had ever seen any of these ingredients before ending up in the Devildom.

Even Mammon seemed to be in a particularly unpleasant mood. A never-ending string of complaints about how hard it is to protect an ordinary human. “Geez, you’re such a hassle human.”

Taking refuge in the library to study and to give Mammon a break from you proved disastrous and nearly deadly. Somehow you’d managed to spill your cup of tea all over an old somewhat rare text after Asmo had barged in and startled you. Your string of bad luck continued when Satan rounded the corner and saw the soggy tea-stained pages you’d been trying to decipher. In his fit of rage, he’d called you several unpleasant names and asked if you were “capable of doing anything right or if all humans are as stupid as you?” You’d left as quickly as you were able to avoid any more of his wrath.

No matter where you went you kept walking in on Belphie napping and without fail he’d say something nasty to you, that would make tears burn the backs of your eyes.

Levi had angrily called you a “useless normie,” who he wished would “never come back.” and had pushed you from his room with a slam of his door.

Even Asmo who usually just ignored you when he was upset found every reason imaginable to critique your every aspect. Physical and personality. Not a single one of which made you feel any more than worthless.

So was it any wonder when at the end of a long week you’d locked yourself in your room and decided to try that comfort spell you’d heard Solomon talking about? It seemed simple enough. But then your tears had blurred your vision as you’d recited the words and your Latin was still shaky at best. But it was just a few lines! And there was no way you were going to go to one of the brothers for comfort when they had seemed perfectly happy to make you miserable for the last few weeks.

You’d read the spell aloud and curled up hoping that the spell would kick in and you’d feel even just the slightest bit better. The blinding green light and sudden drop in energy was the first and only warning the spell had gone wrong. But being new to magic meant it still sapped your energy, so you didn’t stop to think something might be wrong. By the time you realized what was happening, everything was out of control. Plants had begun to sprout from your skin and the floor around you, growing and growing. With each inch they grew you felt your exhaustion creep up and consume you. You were just so tired. Your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong! You forced your eyes open again. You need to fix this. The spell! But a short nap wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’d have more energy after you woke up. Then you could go get one of the brothers. Satan would know how to fix this. Or Lucifer! He’d clean the spell up easily. Yes, after you woke up…

Lucifer hadn’t seen you all weekend. He figures you’re most likely studying. But you don’t show up for meals and none of his brothers have seen you either… and oh Diavolo! He can feel the spell from the dining room. How did he not notice sooner? The cold pulling sensation of the spell, like it was sucking the warmth and life from its surroundings.

When Lucifer reaches your door Mammon is already there. Knocking and shouting for you, but there's no answer. He all but breaks your door down, his brothers behind him, and finds you at the center of the spell. Unresponsive and covered in the plants using your energy to grow. The plants had begun climbing up the walls and twisting through your hair, sending out snow-white flowers.

“Beel! Don’t!” Lucifer warns as Beel reaches out to pull a handful of plants from you. “We don’t know what did this and what will happen to Mc if we just rip the spell off like that.”

“Lucifer, Mc did this to themself,” Satan points to the open spellbook. “It looks like they got a comfort spell mixed up.”

Fortunately, your last tired thoughts were correct and Lucifer is able to break the spell quickly. You wake surrounded by the brothers.

Lucifer:

All this happened for a comfort spell? Because you didn’t feel like you could come to him, to any of them?

He’s so sorry Mc. Enough that as he leans down to pick you up out of the mess of withering plants you can feel tears fall onto your face.

“Nothing I did was good enough for you Lucifer. Any of you. I just wanted to feel… I just wanted-”

His heart breaks when he realizes this is his brother’s fault, his fault. “You are always good enough, Mc. Much more than I could ever ask you to be, and if I ever made you feel like you weren't. No, the fact that I made you feel like you weren’t, means I have been truly terrible.”

You’re choking back your own tears now and you curl further into his arms as he carries you down the hall. “You said I was a disappointment.”

“My dear Mc, you have never been, nor could you ever be a disappointment to me. Forgive me for ever making you feel as if you were.”

Lucifer takes you to his bathroom and draws you a bath to wash away the last of the plant matter from your body.

Afterward, he’ll bring you anything you ask for. He wants to wrap you in his arms but doesn’t want to push you, so he asks softly if he can hold you.

He’ll spend weeks trying to make this up to you, even after you forgive him, he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you more often than he did before.

Mammon:

Shit human! Why didn’t you come to him? He loves you so much and oh. He made you feel like a burden.

How could he be so stupid when he knows how his brothers make him feel?

Mammon begs for your forgiveness in front of all his brothers.

“Please can ya forgive me? I never meant to make ya feel like a burden. You're the only human I- I want to protect you Mc. I’m so sorry.”

Mammon helps you up and since your room is covered in plants he offers to let you sleep in his room for the night.

He wraps you in blankets and brushes the hair from your face with trembling fingertips.

There are still a few stubborn leaves sticking to your face and in your hair so Mammon takes a warm washcloth and wipes them from your face before gently untangling the plants from your hair.

You’ll be getting little gifts and tokens of mammon’s affections for the foreseeable future.

Levi:

He threw you out of his room when you came to him for comfort and the guilt at seeing you almost die because of it is eating him alive.

He feels frozen

Maybe you would be better off without an otaku shut-in like him. He starts avoiding you like the plague.

You start to think that Levi is so disgusted with the fact that you did that spell that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Despite this Levi still checks up on you. He wants to know that you are ok, he just does it without you knowing.

He’ll ask his brothers about you and discreetly glance at you during meals to make sure you’re eating enough and look healthy.

A few days later when your favorite and manga anime start showing up outside your door you confront Levi. “Are you mad at me? Do you just not want to be around me after what happened? Levi, I miss you!”

He is shook, and he can’t believe he messed up so badly.

He’s happy that he can invite you to hang out again, and he makes sure to spend long nights gaming or watching movies with you until you fall asleep against him. He’ll even stutter out how much he treasures his time with you, blushing fiercely all the while.

Satan:

Satan feels anger swell up inside him. How could he have let this happen? How could no one have seen how upset you were?

Once the spell has been dissolved he is at your side instantly. Brushing vines from your skin. His fingers are shaking in anger but his touch is so gentle.

When both you and your room are cleaned up Satan sits at your bedside, book in hand, reading to you.

He just wants to be close to you now. He wants you to know how much he cares about you but is still too worked up to get his thoughts out properly.

Eventually, his thoughts calm and he stops reading in the middle of a sentence. “Mc, I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel unwanted. Every day I spend with you is infinitely better than a day without you. I know the spell was a mistake but… we almost lost you. I almost lost you.”

He wants to talk about what pushed you to do this. He won’t push but he really does think that he will be better able to help you if he understands.

Satan makes sure to spend more time with you from now on. He makes a conscious effort to check his temper at the door and be with you when you need him.

Sometimes he’ll just read to you until one of you confides in the other in quiet voices.

Asmo:

As you blink your eyes open Asmo gently brushes some plants from your cheek.

You are so pale and his heart breaks as you flinch away from him. You feel like a mess and you know you must look like one too so curl your body away from him trying to hide. Trying to avoid his critical gaze.

This is the moment Asmo knows he screwed up.

He draws his hand back, for a moment, before reaching out to you again. Cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with perfectly manicured hands.

Lucifer has him take you to his bathroom to clean up while the rest of the brothers work to clear the plants from your room.

Asmo is quiet for a long while as he untangles plants from your hair.

“You’re so loved, Mc,” he says softly. “You are.” he insists when you shake your head no.

“More than you could ever know, and it’s our fault for not telling you. My fault for not making you feel worthy.”

After this incident, Asmo wants to make sure you know how beautiful you are. He starts self-care days once a week that soon turn into whole family affairs. Each week different combinations of his brother attend and you all work to pamper each other.

Asmo makes sure nothing like this happens again, he never wants to be part of the reason you feel unloved ever again.

Beel:

At first, Beel thinks you did this on purpose. Once the brothers realize you messed up the spell he is less angry but no less distraught.

Once you wake up, he wants to take you to get desserts. He’s heard humans eat Chocolate/ other sweets to feel better. And this makes sense to him, food does make everything better.

But you don’t want to go to Madam Screams or the kitchen to make your own. You’re still so tired. Not to mention embarrassed that you screwed the spell up this bad.

And now they are all staring at you like they care so much when none of them had any time to notice how they were making you feel before.

When you become unresponsive to the brother’s questions and apologies Beel scoops you up in his arms and walks away with you.

Something about the way he holds you close to his chest and his warmth causes you to finally let go.

You bury your face in his shirt to muffle your crying.

“I just… I felt so alone! And… I...but no one” you gasp out shakily between sobs.

Beel soothes you with soft murmuring as he gently cards his fingers through your hair and strokes down your back.

Once your crying quiets he starts to speak “Don’t do that again. You can always come to me Mc. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t”

Belphie:

Belphie thinks it’s a joke at first. “Man, how could they mess up this bad?”

Then he sees Lucifer’s panicked expression and it hits him how serious this is.

Belphie is immediately by your side. Hands frantically feeling your wrist for a pulse.

After Lucifer breaks the spell and your eyes flutter open Belphie is filled with relief until a wave of guilt washes through him.

He can’t believe he fucked up so badly again. Sure this time he didn’t directly cause you physical harm, but he did play a role in causing you to almost die again.

“I am so very sorry Mc, I never meant to hurt you.”

He does everything he can think of to make it up to you. Anything you ask him for, as long as it’s within his power, is yours. No questions asked.

He asks permission just to hold your hand for weeks afterward as if he thinks you’ll come to your senses and decide you don’t want anything to do with him.

He wants to comfort you so bad.

To make sure you don’t feel like this again Belphie pulls you away to nap with him as often as he can get away with it. Most likely only a few times a week (much less often than he would like). Sometimes he uses this time just to talk with you. Others you really do nap, and Belphie curls himself around you. Occasionally he enters your dreams while you nap together to make sure no nightmares can touch you.

[reidingmelodies]

The Luckiest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Category: Fluff Word Count: 2k Includes: Dad Spencer, Children, Pregnancy A/N:  I wrote this one for @anxiousblanketqueen’s birthday challenge: Happy Birthday, Jill! ♡ I hope you have an absolutely amazing day!! Main Masterlist

“What’s this, Daddy?” Spencer turned, eyes finding his daughter holding the scrapbook Penelope made for your anniversary a few months prior.  The book held your most cherished memories: from your first meeting to your first dates, to your marriage and the birth of your children.

“Auntie P made that for us, bug,” he explained, bending down to clear the pile of blocks on the floor to make way for her little feet.  She bounded towards him, the book dangling from her arms while she climbed next to him on the couch.

Big brown eyes similar to his own looked up at him, her little lip sticking out in a pout as she pushed the book towards him in a silent question.

She was only five, but she was fully aware that he was incapable of saying no to her; after all, she learned the puppy dog pout from its creator: his wife.

“Come here, love,” he situated his daughter on his lap, laying a gentle kiss on her hairline before opening the book to the first page.

“Is that Mommy?” her fingers moved to trace along the first photo, a still of you and Spencer at Derek and Penelope’s wedding seven years prior. Your eyes were focused off frame, gaze solely fixated on the couple’s first dance, but Spencer’s were glued to your every move.

It was your very first meeting, years of Penelope trying to set Spencer up with her high school best friend had failed up until that point.  Plans to go to bars were halted by last minute cases in different cities, parties in Penelope’s apartment were missed because you had a date lined up, lunch dates with Penelope where she hoped you would finally meet Spencer were ruined because he wouldn’t leave his desk.

Years and years of trying to get you two to meet, and all it took was her and Derek getting married.

If she knew it would have been that easy, she would have gotten hitched years ago.

As luck would have it, you and Spencer had somehow narrowly avoided each other during wedding planning as well.  It was as though the universe had something against you, as if all the signs were screaming that you weren’t meant to be.  But then, on the night the stars aligned for Derek and Penelope the same happened for you, your pre-planned seating arrangement leading you directly into Spencer’s arms and proving the universe wrong.

It was that night that two perfect strangers became stakeholders in one another’s lives, the night when two hearts found the piece that had been missing for too long.  Neither of you knew it then, but a few shared conversations and lingering glances over dinner were enough to change your lives.

“Yeah,” Spencer whispered, smiling at your daughter.  “That’s Mommy”.

And like their words summoned your presence, the front door opened and you walked in, your two year old son’s hand gripped around two of your fingers while your purse hung from your free arm.

“Mommy!” your daughter jumped from her position on Spencer’s lap to wrap her arms around your legs, your body bending to place a series of kisses against her head.

“Hi, Sweet Pea!  Did you have a good time with Daddy?”

“Mm-hmm!” you watched her pigtails bounce as she twirled, her hand moving to hold her brother’s as she walked him towards a tower in the center of the room.  “We played with blocks and read books and looked at a pretty picture of you!”

“Wow!  What picture was it?” but alas, your question fell short on your daughter’s ears, her attention long gone and instead focused on teaching her brother the right way to build a tower.

And honestly, as far as you were concerned that was perfectly okay.  Any moment they were getting along without tears or screams was a win in your book.

“We were looking at the album Penelope made us,” Spencer’s voice carried over the sound of your children’s giggles and you swiftly moved to sit next to him on the couch, thigh to thigh while your head rested against his shoulder.  “We made it through the first picture before you guys came home”.

You placed a gentle kiss against his shoulder where you laid, eyes scanning the photo in question. It was one of your favorite nights, but it paled in comparison to the picture on the next page.

“Remember that night?” you asked, pointing at the photo you had been eyeing.  It was a blurry mess to put it lightly, Spencer’s hand holding the disposable camera at an odd angle while you attacked his cheeks with kisses until a trail of lipstick was left in your wake.

You were young, in love, and inseparable- a blurry photo was a small price to pay for being with him.

“How could I forget,” Spencer chuckled lightly, shaking his head as he examined the picture, “I got off the jet at 11 PM and headed to your place for a midnight picnic.  We were only dating for three weeks and JJ thought it was weird to go to your place so late, but I didn’t care.  Did you think it was weird?”

You snuggled closer to him, the hitch at the end of his question cluing you into the fact that he was nervous you did.  “If you didn’t come over I most certainly would have went to your place- I hated being away from you, I still do now”.

You were rewarded with a kiss to your palm before Spencer continued to flip through the pages in a comfortable silence, your life together thus far being pieced together with every new picture.

From movie nights cuddled up on the floor of Derek and Penelope’s living room, to office holiday parties where you walked around with your pinkies intertwined, to stolen kisses at happy hour and café dates where you both sported espresso foam mustaches.

With the next flip of the page, you watched as your smiles grew wider in each photo with the addition of a ring on your left hand.  There were pictures of Spencer down on one knee at your favorite park thanks to Penelope’s hidden vantage point behind a set of trees a few feet away.

The sky was a cerulean blue, yellow and pink tulips in full bloom at your feet, but in that moment, with Spencer kneeling in front of you and the most beautiful declarations of love falling from his lips nothing was visible but him.  

Another flip of a page and yet another moment when nothing mattered but Spencer was on full display- your wedding day.  His arms were looped around your waist as you danced in front of your family and friends, your smiles the widest they’d ever been.  The night was filled with love filled glances and silent assertions of love fit for two in a room bursting with joy, each and every one caught on camera thanks to Penelope’s dedication to capturing one of her favorite love stories in action.

A series of selfies followed in the next few pages, each one a picture you had sent Penelope during your honeymoon as proof you weren’t always locked away in your hotel room. Spencer was sporting a sunglasses tan in each photo while you were sporting a smirk, each picture reminding you of the vacation that gave you one of your favorite gifts yet nine months later: your daughter.

You looked up from the album to glance in her direction, your lips curling into a smile as you watched her separate the blocks into color coded piles much to her younger brother’s amusement. With each passing day she reminded you more and more of Spencer, and it was by far one of your favorite journeys to witness.

Your focus shifted back to the book in Spencer’s hands, weekly progress photos of your stomach’s growth (which Spencer was determined to capture in all its glory) gracing the pages along with ultrasounds, memories from your baby shower, and pictures of Spencer’s hands constantly flitting over your lower belly. His head rested gently on your middle in each one, his face the picture of happiness as he whispered bedtime stories and facts about space, completely oblivious to everything but you and your daughter.

You watched as the baby you had spent months dreaming about came to life in pictures, her features the perfect mixture of you and Spencer from the moment she was placed in your hands. With each passing picture the bags under both of your eyes grew bigger, but your smiles grew wider.  Images of her firsts graced the pages: the first time she sat up, the first time she ate solid foods, the first time she said dada (and the tears in Spencer’s eyes when he heard it), her first steps, her first day of school.  

And then one made way for two, your son joining the midst of photos and bringing an endless amount of love and joy to your family.  Much like your daughter, he reminded you of Spencer: he was inquisitive- curious eyes always studying his surroundings, his hand always finding comfort in yours just like his father.  

Pictures of his firsts graced the pages much like your daughter’s, except this time the first time he sat up he was accompanied by a beaming sister, when he said mama for the first time it was you who was in tears, and when he took his first steps he walked straight into Spencer’s open arms.

The book was a picture-perfect testament to your love, one of your most prized possessions, but there was one thing missing.

“I love the life we built together,” Spencer whispered in your direction, his fingers tracing your side as he thought about how lucky he was. How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and two children made from love?

“I love it, too,” you murmured as your hand moved to reach for your purse, “but there’s one thing we’re missing”.

You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes scanning the empty pages at the end of the book.  “I know the pictures are a little out of date, we can order some more this weekend to fill the empty pages though”, he stated as his gaze found yours to see if that was the answer you were looking for.

“We definitely can,” you nodded, removing an item from your purse and unsticking the scrapbook pages to place it in the middle.  Once you were satisfied with its placement, you adjusted the top sheet before holding both of Spencer’s hands in yours, “but we can start with this”.

The previously blank page was now the home of your very first ultrasound photo for your third baby, a surprise you had confirmed earlier that morning at your doctor’s appointment.  You watched as Spencer’s eyebrows shot up, his face breaking into a smile while his eyes filled with tears.

“Really?” his voice was so soft, you were sure you would have missed it if you weren’t sitting directly next to him.

“Really, really,” you confirmed, your left hand moving to grasp his jaw as you pulled his face closer to yours.

“Are you excited?” you whispered, fully aware that the answer was yes but craving confirmation.

With your question, a tear escaped his lash line, trailing down his cheek and making its way to a beaming smile that rivaled the ones you had seen in the scrapbook.

He nodded, at a complete loss for words as he closed the gap between you and let his feelings out in a kiss. It was a kiss filled to the brim with love, happiness, and appreciativeness.  

And in that moment, there was only one coherent thought on his mind as he listened to his children’s giggles in the background and felt the weight of your love against his lips: How lucky was he that he went from a man destined to live a solitary life to a man with a wonderful wife and three children made from love?

The luckiest man alive, that was for sure.

***

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[amaranthinewilliamsauthor]

Fanfic WIP 2 - Labyrinth - Sarah Williams x Jareth (Goblin King)

PLOT: Sarah, after grading the writing of her students (from rather good to criminally terrible), makes an ill-advised wish (essentially “I wish I had someone to help deal with this shit”). Jareth pops up, as you do when you’re bored to tears by your moronic subjects, and helps Sarah go through her work. They get take-out, have a few drinks, and Jareth decides to make it a regular thing. He audits the class, though he didn’t figure on having to actually DO the work, and just is a chaos magnet.

Sarah: English Professor (Associate) at (insert school) who teaches Creative Writing (deals with super shit writing) and helps with student theater performances. In her mid 30’s , divorced with no kids and two cats, and happily single at the moment. She keeps in touch with the Labyrinth crew, tries to be there for Toby but feels exasperated at times due to the age difference, and even keeps in touch with Jareth.

Jareth: Goblin King, eternally ageless, and has a fondness for moronic writers. (They will give up a lot to get their dreams, especially when they know that they don’t have the ability to earn their dreams.) He decides to audit Sarah’s class, with her knowledge and permission, and gives other students all the wrong ideas.

=============================================

CHAPTER ONE:

It’s the weekend, thought Sarah for the tenth time that night, I should be doing something other than grading papers.

The first creative writing project of the semester was always an unmitigated disaster. Either the work was perfectly adequate or it was criminally terrible. It made sense, she supposed, because most students hadn’t read a lot of literature to inspire them to write better quality stories. By the end of the semester the writing would get a lot better, or at least that’s what she hoped and planned on. At 28 Sarah was mostly happy where her life was, though she regretted some of her decisions, but at this particular point in time she was considering a career change. She didn’t hate her job, she was an adjunct English professor who taught creative writing, but sometimes she fantasized about leaving it all behind to pursue something else. Anything else. “I wish that I had someone to help grade this bullshit,” She felt perfectly safe to say those words, especially since she lived alone, but a cold thread of doubt wove its way through her. She knew better than most that you should be careful what you wished for. When nothing happened she let out a breath that she had been holding.

----------------------

“Hello Precious,” Jareth purred as he stood in her living room, “Now what would make you call upon me, especially 13 years after you beat my Labyrinth?” Sarah’s mouth had gone dry, panic would do that, and she was in full blown panic mode, “I-I didn’t mean to “call upon you” as you say, but I just made a stupid wish.” “You wished for assistance in grading,” A wide grin slowly grew, revealing curiously (and frighteningly) sharp teeth, “subpar assignments from your students. A wish made in frustration, though one still meant, is a wish. I should know,” He conjured a crystal with a flick of his wrist, “I specialize in wishes.” Jesus, Sarah thought, he’s still such a drama queen….king. “I know what kind of price you charge for wishes, but you won’t lay a finger on Toby.” Though, now that she actually thought about it, Jareth might not want her brother even if he could take him. Toby was a full-blown teenager, with the requisite mood swings, and had a curious standard of cleanliness. Karen had, after much fighting with Toby over keeping his room clean, admitted defeat. Sarah, when she came to visit, refused to step foot in her brother’s room as the numerous clothes and dirty dishes were frightening enough.

“You won him back, and I must regretfully abide by the rules. Unless another wishes him away I have no claim upon your baby brother.” Jareth spoke, still grinning, but his words calmed Sarah.

[1kook]

A COLLECTION  [ updated: 8 . 23 . 21 ]

— STATUS ONGOING — NO REPOSTS — ASKS under #ncouple ! — Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr

—NETFLIX & CHILL.

summary If you planned things right, you could rain down your raging displeasure on Jeon Jungkook right after the meal but before this proposed ‘Netflix and chilling,’ maybe dramatically throw your glass of wine at him, before storming out of his place and reporting him to the authorities (Namjoon) for his douchebag personality.  warnings smut in the forms of grinding, oral (f), cum eating, vanilla unprotected sex, dirty talk misc use of the oldest trick in the book (“your hands are sooo big”), shy oblivious AND gentleman jk? pick a struggle, brief ment of app developer kook, evil and conniving oc  word count 10.2k  posted june 12, 2020

—HULU & WOOHOO.

summary But there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Jersey Shore boner. warnings slight feelings of insecurity, smut in the forms of fingering, cunnilingus, cum eating, squirting, hand jobs, unprotected sex, riding, slight praise kink  misc if you’re not a Jersey shore fan honestly GET OUT, mentions of capitalism😡, more kind/understanding kook, basically a “what are we?” fic but silly, irresponsible emailing habits, its so dumb just read word count 6.3k posted july 4, 2020

—IMAX & CLIMAX.

summary The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl (? kinda), daddy kink that morphs into ily kink misc  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count 9.8k posted august 5, 2020

—KISSANIME & FOREPLAY.

summary You get a glimpse of the KissAnime screen for a good two seconds before about seven ads pop up. Another tab to a raunchy hentai website opens, and Jungkook groans. warnings mentions of hentai, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, masturbation (f), oral (f), use of a sex toy, fingering, nipple play, face sitting/fucking/riding idk (f), praise kink, hints of dumbification, cum eating, jk is like passive aggressive in this one, 4 (f) orgasms, this is the kicker: sub kook at the end😳, like 2 sec of dom yn lol, & u get 0.002 sec of adams apple kink misc more dumb story lines, made up sex stores bc my creativity knows no bounds, Jungkook plays nice but is actually mean for the majority of it, once again doyeon plays a pivotal role in the furthering of women empowerment, internal love monologues about jk best boy<3 word count 8.2k posted september 1, 2020

—DISNEY+ & BUST.

summary There’s a pounding on your door a little past noon, so hard and rough, that you almost think it’s the police finally coming to catch you for all your years of illegally pirating Phineas and Ferb. It’s not. It’s just a really drunk boyfriend wailing for your forgiveness at the door.   warnings arguments, feelings of insecurity, bit of asshole jk, smut in the forms of humiliation, dumbification, choking, fingering, spit kink, self punishment (? idk lol), unprotected but [ passionate ] sex, jk losing his cool, the return of mean jk, desperate jk, he is actually an emotional mess in this one wtf misc angst, anniversaries, the L word😳, app developer kook, rip ‘pretty girl’ </3, we all become phineas and ferb stans word count 13k posted september 9, 2020

—ESPN & BDSM.

summary You would like to personally thank every loud-mouthed, ESPN commentator out there for saving you from Jungkook’s dangerous seduction skills.   warnings smut in the forms of brief femdom, handcuffs, nipple clamps, blindfolding, flogging/use of a riding crop, soft dom kook, cunnilingus, spitting, unprotected but passionate, degradation, as always it starts horny n then turns into I love u kink misc kook has a swollen ankle so idk how he did all this, jk abuses the fuck outta pet names part 7, revenge gone wrong tbh, this was honestly a beginner’s intro to vanilla bdsm word count 12.7k posted september 14, 2020

—YOUTUBE & USE LUBE.

summary You can’t believe this is Jungkook’s preferred sick day treatment; YouTube, cuddles, and an ugly amount of lube. warnings smut in the forms of nipple play, handjobs, spit kink, face riding, unprotected, flavored warming lube, riding, praise kink, soft femdom, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, tit sucking, tit fucking, more jk has an impreg kink, oh and this is all subby kook misc domesticity baby!! fluff, soft scenes /.\, jk is sick:((, doyeon is A Doctor, yn sees an opportunity and she grabs it, surprise ending <3 word count 8.7k   posted september 30, 2020

—VIKI & HICKEYS.

summary Just like in those Viki dramas Jungkook likes, the world around you is enveloped in shades of pink and red, kisses and hearts, so many goddamn roses it makes you sneeze. It’s absolutely perfect— nothing could possibly go wrong when there’s so much love in the air.   warnings a little hurt + a lot of comfort, mentions of cheating!villain!jin, insecure!kook, emotional breakdowns, mentions of jk’s lonely past, jk cries :( smut in the forms of making out, eating out, fingering, clit play, hickeys, jk likes cum, double orgasm, squirting, tiny praise kink, blindfolding, rough + unprotected sex, doggy style, choking!!!, breeding/impreg kink, JEALOUS KOOK, mini hand kink, a lil bit of spanking, degradation, he gets progressively meaner lol oc cries, jk is a good boy n I want him to be happy   misc there’s a lot of fuckin plot omfg -_-, it’s Valentine’s Eve!, doyeon makes Some Points, mentions of park seojoon juicy ass, they go on a d8 😳, oc like rlly wants to marry him, oc commits double phone homicide word count 16.3k posted january 14, 2021

—PEACOCK & SWEET TALK.

summary “I wanna watch Solange in Bring It On,” Jungkook smiles, and you have to wonder who exactly this blond man is and what he did with your teen-movie-hating boyfriend.   warnings smut in the forms of kissing, cunnilingus (eating out + fingering), light praise, a lil body worship, jk fat cawk, brief nipple play, playful jk, unprotected sex, riding and missionary, the jk hand kink, I love you kink, jk wants nudes, jk’s cheerleader fantasies mentioned, spit kink, light choking, jk has like a scent kink (?), mention of collars and pet play misc app developer jk becomes even MORE app developer-y, oc is anti-google, there's plot, a 2 year anniversary, Solange knowles appreciation, BLOND JK!!!, gets sappy for a sec, seahorse marriage mention, doyeon x joon side pairing, jk is disgustingly dreamy and oc is threatened by that fact word count 10.7k posted march 23, 2021

— CRUNCHYROLL & RAIL.

summary Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. warnings smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… misc fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality word count 8.7k posted may 21, 2021

—FUNIMATION & PROCREATION.

summary Never mind your upcoming wedding, this was perhaps the greatest moment of your life— the day Jungkook sought out an anime on his own. warnings kissing, smut in the forms of cunnilingus, cum eating, mentions of anal, doggy style, unprotected sex with the intention of pregnancy, spitting, hand holding<3 misc the wedding night, Doyeon strikes again, jjk watches  jjk, oh no not twins word count 9.1k posted july 31, 2021

—BOOMERANG AND BANG. 

coming soon

—COOKIES & CREAM.

summary Jungkook will watch a thousand cheesy Christmas movies if it meant making you happy. (And maybe having his dick sucked.) warnings smut in the form of blowjobs, face fucking, cum facials, fingering, overstim, double orgasm, r*mantic sex, riding, unprotected, cream pies, jk does this weird thing where he licks her face yeah idk, jk loves seeing his gf cry, jk has an obsession with jizz   misc jk pov !!, eggnog slander, jk hates xmas movies, oc dresses like a sexy mrs claus, Elf !!, jk is in loooove word count 7.1k posted december 23, 2020

— TUTUS & TIARAS.

summary your first pregnancy through the lens of your husband warnings smut in the forms of penetrative sex, sex while pregnant, unprotected sex, tit play, cunnilingus, mutual masturbation, sticking the tip in and jacking off/cockwarming?, creampies, nose kink (? like she grinds against his nose), infatuation with scent, frottage/grinding, lactation kink, titluvr jk [bass boosted] misc married ncouple <3, domesticity, jk pov, mood swings, pregnancy, GIRLDAD!JK, DILF!JK, pregnant!reader, jk’s kids are virgos its true  word count 10k posted august 23, 2021

— one.

summary Maybe Jungkook wasn’t always as cool and composed as you initially believed. But that’s okay, because you love him all the same.  word count 1.3k posted September 10, 2020

—two.

summary Even after all these years, all these doubts, and all this solitude that was really no one’s fault but his own, he still finds himself hoping that maybe you’ll be the one. word count 1k posted september 11, 2020

—three.

summary But Jungkook loves the sun. word count 1.5k posted september 12th, 2020

—four.

summary For the last ten minutes or so his mind has been bothered by one thing and one thing only— the hair that hung in his face. word count 800 words posted september 22, 2020

—five.

summary Startled and inexperienced, he can’t do anything but rub his hands over your back. “It’s fine, it’s fine,” he murmurs, even though it’s not. word count 1.3k posted september 22, 2020

—six.

SUMMARY Jungkook enjoyed pushing you down, indulging you in all your little fantasies, but he too had some he wanted to live out. WC 1.8k POSTED september 25, 2020

—seven.

summary And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan. word count 2k posted october 30, 2020

—eight.

summary You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.   word count 1.9k posted december 28, 2020

—nine.

summary “I think that, like— me and you? We’re like, totally destined,” you ramble, “you should, like, take my number! And maybe we can, like— Netflix and chill one of these days?” word count 2.2k posted january 8 2021

—ten.

summary See, there’s no one in this world who ignores his house rules more than you. Even worse, there’s no one on this planet who can make Jungkook ignore his own rules like you do. word count 1.4k posted february 14, 2021

—eleven.

summary You’re too bright, too… there. His shell is too small. word count 1.2k posted may 3, 2021

—twelve.

summary Anyway, if it was up to Jungkook, Kim Doyeon would not be a member of the Engagement Ring Committee. word count 1.4k posted may 8th, 2021

—thirteen.

summary Because for as much shit as you let him get away with, Jungkook is certain you’ll draw the line today.   word count 1k posted june 13, 2021

—fourteen.

summary Jungkook needs you to know that you can always count on him. word count 1.3k posted july 6, 2021

—fifteen.

summary It’s Jungkook’s teenage fantasy— being pushed down by a cheerleader. word count 3.1k posted august 9, 2021

— sixteen.

summary Your skin is warm and smells like sunshine. Jungkook can’t really explain it. (And also like the sunscreen you had doused him in earlier, but that isn’t as romantic.) word count 1.9K posted august 11, 2021

—seventeen.

summary She looks his way and suddenly Jungkook is nineteen again, in his dorm, listening to the first person he ever thought he loved telling him he’s too much to handle. word count 1.6k posted august 18, 2021

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cute and cozy gif by the lovely @ladyartemesia​ 

LASTLY: 

[parkerpeter24]

You’re having a really bad day and Prof!tom notices and offers to spend the rest of the day with you to make it up to you, lots of reassuring words and a lil confession! Fluff to the max basically :’)

long day

pairing ➳ prof!tom x reader

w.c. ➳ 1.1k

warnings ➳ professor-student relationship (both are of age)

a/n ➳ rosie, happy birthday!! i wanted to post this today because what better day than today to post a prof!tom fic for you <3

tom was about to go off. he was about to go off like an alarm and there was no stopping him. he had just returned from a long day of running errands and making sure to sit with the librarian and get the stock of history books, his subject, that came in just a day before, stamped. his whole sunday had been ruined with all this and now he couldn’t find his favorite pair of sweats.

he plopped down on the couch of his apartment’s living room in work clothes finally heaving a relieved sigh. his next step was pulling out his phone from his pants’ pocket, dialing your number. he expected you to pick up the phone and listen about his excruciating day as he rambled on, but there was no reply from your end. he hadn’t seen you this weekend and he believed you were busy with assignments.

it was after five missed calls that tom threw his phone on the couch as it bounced against the leather, almost tipping off the edge. he was clear about one fact that you wouldn’t have gone to sleep this early in the evening considering your two am calls that were very evident in his call history.

he was desperate to have you pick up his call, his fingers working on their own accord, dialing your landline number without considering that your roommate could be the one picking up the phone.

you heard the landline ringing continuously but decided to ignore it just like the last five phone calls. you were exhausted but not sleepy at the same time. you didn’t feel like getting rest but your head was throbbing.

“corey?!” you called out to your roommate but got only silence in response, “can you get the call?”

receiving yet no reply, you rolled off the bed, landing on your knees on the carpeted floor before getting up and making your way outside with slumped shoulders. there were no signs of your roommate around the 2bhk apartment. you grabbed the landline in your hands before plopping down on the couch, finally answering the call begrudgingly

"hello?"

"darling, why aren't you picking up your phone, i've been trying to reach you for the longest time! i had such a bad day at work and when i need you, you're not even picking up my calls" tom rambled

"i was busy." your answer was precise, ignoring the way you felt yourself tense at his accusations, "uni and stuff." tom noticed how your voice sounded quieter.

"is everything alright?" he asked, now sitting up a bit straighter, worry lacing his smooth words.

"yeah, i'm good."

lie. he could see right through you. he might have had a bad day and he just wanted to talk to you, maybe even bitch about this one nagging colleague of his who won't stop talking about their kid picking up a block. now, tom loves kids but how many times can you hear a story, certainly not seventeen times in a day. but as far as he was concerned right now, he would've been at gunpoint and still asking you if you were feeling okay, because he could tell something was wrong.

"doesn't sound like good, darling." he let out slowly, as if he spoke any higher, he would irritate and give you one more reason to avoid his calls, "you at home?"

"mhm, i am." you replied.

you worried about sounding rude, making him want to get over with this call and finally get to relax after a long day, but the gears in tom's head were turning in other directions. never in a million years would you have thought his next sentence would be, "i'm coming over." tom stated, already working on putting his shoes back on.

you had thought about retreating to your bed but tom's text reading 'almost there' illuminated your phone screen sooner that you thought and soon enough you were making your way over to the door. opening it, you saw tom in his disheveled state, eyes slightly red and hair flying in all directions, bearing a dopey smile just for you as his hand lifted up a packet. you smiled at the sweet man, "what's that?"

"cupcakes, silly!" he made his way inside your apartment. a sense of relief washed over you as you recalled that your roommate had went out, however the fact that tom didn't make sure of that before coming over made your heart flutter in adoration and nervousness at the same time. after all this secret little rendezvous of yours had to end sooner or later.

"sounds delicious." you gave the older man a smile as you both made your way over to the dining table. tom pulled out a chair for you, making you chuckle, "such a gentleman." you remarked before sitting down.

it was a few bites into your cupcake when tom decided to bring up the question from before, "are you okay, darling?"

you felt your body tense as you gulped down the lump in your throat but tom's soft smile made you nod your head, "better now. i was overthinking about uni and how i could never be really good in any subject."

"what're you talking about? you're exceptional in my subject!"

"you're just saying that because you love me." you chuckled, taking another bite of your delightful cupcake, not giving another thought to the words that left your mouth. it was tom's turn to visibly tense, a sudden epiphany causing you to choke on the sweetness in your mouth, "n-no, i meant- i didn't mean to say that out loud!" you stuttered your way through words, caught off guard but you were surely making up a whole explanation about the words you'd just said, "it just slipped out, we can pretend that never happened, i'm just so stupid, you obviously don't love-"

and before you could go on another rambling spree, tom's lips were on yours. his hand caressing your cheek softly, lulling you in closer as his tongue poked out to swipe the remains of frosting off of your lips. a little upturn of your lips and tom was reciprocating the smile enveloping your lips. you couldn't help but run a hand through his messy locks as the both of you pulled back, oxygen signifying its importance, "i do love you."

you rested your forehead against his, finding pure adoration in his eyes. he did love you, maybe it was never about hiding what you had from everyone but keeping it for each other's eyes only, "i do love you too."

———

[tarlos-spain]

Whumptober

Prompt: No. 5 WHAT COULD GO WRONG?

“Mayday, mayday!” | Cave In | Rusty Nail

Fandom: 9-1-1 Lone Star

Pairing: Carlos Reyes/TK Strand

Chapters: 1/7

Summary: He screamed but was not able to hear his voice because it was muffled by the other falling rocks and the last earth movements. Everything was filled with dust around him, he coughed and had to close his eyes to avoid being blinded by the millions of particles moving around him.

An eternity later, when the earth seemed to have decided to give them some peace and he could see better, Carlos sat up and looked for what he soon found. TK was in front of him, lying on the ground, although he could barely see half of his body because he was under a rock.

Chapter 1

"You know I'm a city person right?" TK said, covered in sweat, with the weight of the backpack barely letting him breathe and looking at the road still ahead of them.

"The idea was yours, tiger. You wanted a different adventure for the weekend." Carlos replied.

He walked a few feet ahead of him, turned around and kept walking backwards without looking at the ground, as if he wasn't afraid of falling and cracking his head open.

"When I meant adventure, I was thinking of a new restaurant or escape room downtown."

Carlos paused, put his hands on his hips and took a deep breath. "Just think, we can have the restaurant wherever we feel like it, in the middle of nature and the whole forest is an escape room , because it's full of unexpected mysteries."

TK swatted against his arm a mosquito that was about to bite him and let the air out in an intense sigh. He wanted to keep protesting because he was tired, sweating, with a couple of pebbles in his left shoe and the sun was bothering his eyes. But when he saw his boyfriend's eyes, bright, intense and full of emotion, he did not.

Carlos had spent the whole week preparing for this excursion. He had done his best to hide the maps, but TK had seen them, marked out places he wanted to visit, walks with lines of where he wanted to take him.

For a real weekend they had free, a whole Saturday and a whole Sunday to themselves, he wasn't going to waste it on stupid complaints about the heat.

He sighed again and walked over to Carlos, wrapped both arms around his neck and kissed him. He closed his eyes for a moment as he did so and took in the sound of the birds around his, the water running not far away and the lack of traffic and city noises.

"I admit it's beautiful and relaxing."

"You see? New York is very beautiful with all its skyscrapers and restaurants all over the world, but sometimes you forget what lies beyond." Carlos grabbed TK by both hands and pulled him along. "I grew up here, when I was little, when my father had a party on the weekends we would come here, walk around and I would tell him how school had gone during the week. He'd tell me some of his cases and then we'd walk down to the river on the other side of these caves behind us and stick our feet in the freezing water while we ate some sandwiches my mom had made."

"Sounds great."

"It was." Carlos's expression changed dramatically. "It was here that I decided to tell them I was gay. I thought they would accept it without a problem because I talked it all out with my father, nothing could go wrong."

"But in the end, everything turned out fine, your parents love you are happy for us."

Carlos sighed. "I know, but I wish it hadn't taken so long to happen." Carlos turned around and smiled. "Dare you venture with me into that cavern? It's dark but it's very leaky and at the bottom is the river I was telling you about."

"Sure," TK went up to him, took his hand and kissed it. "With you to the end of the world. I showed you my world in New York last month. Now I want to meet yours."

Just as Carlos had said, the grotto was in total darkness when they entered, illuminated only by the light coming through the entrance. As they walked they soon stopped being able to see the ground beneath their feet and had to walk much more slowly to avoid falling.

Carlos was used to moving around these grounds, but every few seconds he noticed TK's grip on his hand because of how close he was to falling.

"Step where I do, it will be easier for you." He told him.

Keed reading on AO3

@lire-casander @morganaspendragonss @chaotictarlos @noxsoulmate