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#like it took so much out of me to not take another ap because i knew id failed that class last year.
greensagephase · 1 year
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Nonviolent Communication - Part One
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Pairing: Spider-Man!Miguel O'Hara x Spider-Woman!Reader Summary: You don't show up to a meeting or report for other duties as a Spider Society member because of your period. Your boss shows up to your apartment. Word Count: 5,144 Warning: A little bit of angst?; Mention of death; menstruation, cramps A/N: There's multiple pieces of fan art for this fic. If you'd like to check it out, you can find everything linked in my masterlist! Masterlist Music Inspo (Spotify playlist for the fanfic here) "Nonviolent Communication" - Metro Boomin, James Blake, A$AP Rocky, 21 Savage Next Part
Part One
You were recruited four months ago into the Spider Society. Ever since the beginning, you couldn’t help but gravitate towards the leader and founder of the society. You learned quickly about his past and the way he carried himself these days.
Miguel O’Hara worked day and night. If he wasn’t in his lab working on something, he was out on missions with a select few members or on his own. There were days that you wouldn’t even see him. You wondered if anyone did on those days. You told yourself to mind your business. It’s not like you were friends and you hardly interacted anyway. You were a member of the Spider Society but one of the newest ones. You weren’t part of the most trusted members for Miguel.
And yet… There was something. You felt a need to look after him. You couldn’t understand it. You wanted to chalk it up to interest. Maybe you found his story interesting. How a man had simply replaced a version of himself in another universe to be a father, only to lose her when that universe collapsed. How heartbroken and guilt-filled he was over it. That had to be it, you told yourself. It was just intrigue. 
You figured that if you just gave in to your interest, it would go away eventually. It would fade away… So, you allowed yourself to be interested. You showed up to meetings earlier than anyone else when Miguel scheduled them. You stopped by the cafeteria to pick up coffee cups beforehand and arrived at the meeting earlier. You came in, looking unbothered and uninterested as you placed the cup of coffee in front of him, greeting him.
“The cafeteria staff gave me another cup, and I didn’t know what to do with it,” you’d say as he looked up with an uninterested look on his face.
You’d walk away and take a seat a few chairs away, picking up the nicely done reports he provided at every meeting. You did this every week with a different excuse each time. You didn’t know if he ever wondered why the cafeteria staff gave you so much coffee since that was usually your excuse. You doubted he even cared; you were just another member.
The first few times, you noticed the cup would sit in the same exact spot you’d leave it. Miguel wouldn’t even acknowledge it after looking up at you. You still brought it each week. After some weeks, he wouldn’t even look up when you placed the cup in front of him on the desk but – he started giving you a small grunt of acknowledgement. You’d walk away with a little grin, quickly putting it away when you sat down on your usual seat so he wouldn’t notice it.
Then about two weeks later, you saw it. As he was going over the reports and listening to Ben Reilly ramble on about his past because of some anomaly he caught that week, he picked up the coffee cup and took a sip. You looked away as you felt his gaze about to turn to you. The reports looked very interesting indeed.
All throughout this, you also started showing up to his lab after he and Jessica requested to see you about a mission. You noticed there was quite a mess of gadgets lying around. You offered to organize it, as it is something you enjoy and are good at. You didn’t even know why you offered but Jessica seemed eager about the idea while Miguel frowned.
“Oh, come on, Miguel. Some organization around here wouldn’t hurt, you know? Look at this mess,” Jessica said looking around, pointing at different areas cluttered with all sorts of tech pieces.
“Fine,” Miguel said as he walked away, apparently done with the conversation.
Jessica beamed at you. She seemed to like you a lot since you did your job well and didn’t get into any drama. You were like the perfect pupil. You nodded at her, with a warm smile.
So that’s how you ended up showing up once a week to Miguel’s lab to do some organizing. You show up and organize as he works on something. Sometimes he is up in the air on his platform, going through monitors. You simply greet him as you arrive before you begin organizing and cleaning. Sometimes there is no response, other times there is just a “hmm”.
These visits have led to Lyla taking a liking to you. She often asks you questions as you work while Miguel is there. You don’t know if he pays attention to what Lyla and you talk about. You honestly doubt he even listens. He is always so engrossed in what he is doing.
Lyla definitely makes the time pass faster. It isn’t like you wanted it to but the silence in the lab is… off sometimes. Lyla asks you all sorts of things like whether you have plans for that weekend, if you enjoy a certain activity because other spider members enjoy it, if you like a certain food, or how missions have gone, etc. It is always something different. You respond to her questions as you work. You are fast and efficient.
You never miss a week, and you are never late as you have made it a habit to show up at the same time. Except this week that is. You started your period and this month is kicking your butt with excruciating cramps and lower back pain. You barely make it to your home after patrolling your city, sliding into bed in pain.
You dig through your nightstand, looking for the specific medicine you take to take care of this even if it makes you extremely drowsy and dizzy. You take it and lie down, hoping it will help right away as you groan in pain. You lie in bed, clutching your stomach. The medicine definitely makes you drowsy and dizzy, but it doesn’t seem to help much with the pain. You pass out a few times but wake up again, the pain too much.
You’re so out of it that you don’t notice the time. You don’t remember the day. You don’t notice the sun out behind your closed blinds. You don’t hear a multidimensional portal open in your small apartment living room. You don’t register the heavy footsteps that move through your apartment. Your eyes are closed, hands clutching your stomach, soft groans escaping your lips. You don’t see the large shadow moving through your room until the last second.
“Go away,” you say weakly, thinking someone has broken into your home.
Despite your pain, despite feeling drowsy and dizzy, your mind still has the time to find this funny. The one day you feel like absolute crap is the day someone decides to break into your apartment. And you’re Spider-Woman! How ironic, you think. Let them take whatever they want, you think, as long as they don’t hurt you.
However, you are surprised when you feel a warm and heavy hand pressed to your forehead.
“No fever,” the voice says stating it as a fact.
You continue to clutch your stomach, eyes closed. Unbeknownst to you as you lay in bed in and out of it, a man is in your apartment. His height towers over you in bed.
Miguel O’Hara is in your apartment… Checking on you. He stares down at you as you lay in bed. He sees you clutching your stomach and as he observes carefully, he sees no injury. There is no sight of blood either. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. You are clearly in pain but why? He turns to your nightstand, noticing the bottle of pills. He inspects it. Painkillers…
His eyebrows furrow further as he realizes what it could be. He walks to your bathroom to confirm. His suspicion is confirmed when he takes a look at your garbage can, spotting the plastic wraps of feminine products. His suspicion is further confirmed when he sees a pack of feminine products on the counter, ready for easy access.
“Coño,” he says quietly as he realizes his suspicion is true.
He walks out of your bathroom, looking at your shape in the bed. You are still clutching your stomach and soft groans escape from your lips ever so often. Miguel remembers the days he used to take care of his wife before everything collapsed. It was a long time since he had even thought about doing that for a woman, but his mind started remembering everything he did to ease his wife’s pain each month. He stood there, thinking before he walked out of your bedroom and into the one room that was the kitchen, the living room, and dining room all at once… New York apartments, Miguel thought, as he took in your apartment.
You were organized and clean, but that didn’t surprise Miguel. You did organize the lab each week with such ease despite Lyla peppering you with questions the entire time. Your apartment was warm with its colors. It gave the impression of someone happy and warm. Miguel noticed a bookshelf in the part of the apartment that plays the living room. It is filled with so many books that you have some stacked horizontally over the vertical ones. An avid reader, Miguel thinks before he heads to your kitchen.
It is clean for the most part except for a plate and a cup. Miguel searches through your kitchen, looking for something specific. He returns to your room, looking through your drawers looking for something else. A few minutes later, he returns to your bedroom. You lay still. Seems that you have passed out at last. With ease, Miguel slides some homemade socks with warm rice under your sweatshirt. He places one on your stomach and the other one on your back.
A satisfied hum escapes your lips, letting Miguel know his idea was somewhat successful despite it being homemade. He gives you one more look before heading out to your living room.
He doesn’t even know why he came. All he knows is that you didn’t show up to organize the lab like you did each week. You didn’t show up to the morning meeting either. Jessica hadn’t heard from you in hours and there was no activity from your gizmo.
A few hours later, you wake up from your slumber. You yawn and stretch your body gently. You lay in bed for a few seconds, realizing your pain is gone. Now you just feel the exhaustion that comes from having a period. You sit up in bed slowly, feeling something on your stomach. You look down. Your sweatshirt is tucked into your shorts on both sides. You untuck it and two socks filled with something slide out. You furrow your eyebrows as you lift them up to inspect closer. You bring them to your nose.
“Rice…” you say, recognizing the specific scent of rice. Your eyebrows furrow but you shrug. You don’t even remember getting up to make these, but you thank yourself for doing it despite being out of it. You get up from bed slowly and check the time. It’s already evening. You decide to take a shower to ease your muscles.
Your shower is hot. You fill the bathroom with fog, but it doesn’t matter. It makes you feel like a million bucks when you get into fresh clothes, all shower and fresh. You head out of your bedroom to get something to drink and that’s when you see it. The lamps in the living room are on, there is music playing from your record player. You look confused as you step out further.
“Mierda,” you hear an annoyed male voice, causing you to jump a little.
You turn to the voice, located in the kitchen and find…
“Miguel?” you say slowly but with confusion as you find him with his back to you.
He stands in front of one of your kitchen cabinets, holding it open. There’s a screwdriver in his hand. He turns around at your voice.
“Y/N… You’re awake,” he says turning fully around now.
You take him in. He’s in his suit as always. You’ve wondered many times if he ever just dresses in casual clothes since he’s always in his suit. He stands tall, of course, and you can’t help but think how he makes your already small kitchen look ten times smaller than it is with him standing there. You rub your eyes, making sure this isn’t just some hallucination.
“Um- you are here,” you say looking at him again.
Miguel nods, turning back around to the cabinet. You watch as he uses the screwdriver. You remember then. Your loose cabinet that has been a pain in the butt for months now. You look around the place. There were some dishes in your sink, or at least you remember there being some but now they’re gone. You notice the trash was taken out. Clean dishes were put away. And to your surprise, there’s food on the stove. There’s also a sweet scent lingering in the air that you cannot pinpoint right now.  
“You feel better?” Miguel asks, with his back still to you as he finishes fixing the cabinet.
“Yes. A lot better, actually…” you say as you cross your arms across your chest, finding this situation so strange.
Miguel turns around to face you now. He looks at you before looking down at the screwdriver in his hand. The screwdriver looks like a toy in his hand, you notice.
“Yeah, well…” Miguel starts, looking up at you again. “Jessica was worried about you. She said you didn’t report to the meeting we had this morning. She asked if you had gone to my lab to organize it and when I told her no, she grew worried something had happened to you since she also noticed no activity from your gizmo. She wanted to come herself and check on you, but the baby kept her busy today. She asked me to come in and check for her.”
I nod, realizing that makes perfect sense. Jessica has grown fond of you after all, you just never realized she was that fond of you.
“Well, thank you for checking in on me for her. I’ll be sure to thank her tomorrow,” you say looking around the kitchen again.
“You probably shouldn’t do that,” Miguel says, putting the screwdriver down on the counter. It looks normal sized again. You raised an eyebrow. “She doesn’t like it when people thank for her… caring. If you want to thank her, just get her a coffee and tell her you appreciate her mentorship,” Miguel explains, resting his hands on his hips.
You nod slowly, maybe it was better to just thank her for everything instead of just this act. You sigh.
“I guess you’re right,” you say, scratching your neck softly. “Did she also tell you to fix my cabinet, or did that just bother you so much?”
Miguel’s face remains void of any expression. You wanted to ask about the homemade socks with rice since it became apparent to you that you weren’t responsible for them, but you kept your mouth shut.
“I was looking for – rice when I noticed your loose cabinet and other messed up things around here. You have a shitty landlord or something?” he asks, looking around.
You shrug. “Yeah, but the rent is good.”
“You’re not exactly strapped for cash, are you?”
You shake your head. It was true. You had some money. You could afford to move somewhere else where the landlords were better but…
“Why are you still here then?” Miguel asks.
His question is laced with interest, and you can’t help but think about how this is the longest conversation you’ve had with him since… meeting each other. And even then, that conversation was probably about three minutes long. You avert your gaze from him, looking at the wall nearest to you. Your eyes land on a single picture amongst many.
You lost your Peter three years ago, just like many of your spider colleagues. Losing him has been the hardest thing you have ever experienced. You have been punched till the air was knocked out of you, you have laid in ruble with buildings crushed over you, and you have been on the verge of death many times, but nothing has ever nor will ever compare to the pain and grief of losing Peter.
As you look at the picture of Peter and you, the one you took the first day you moved into this apartment, you think about all the memories in this apartment. It was all the two of you could afford back then but you two loved it. It was your place. It was the first time you were living together, and it didn’t matter much that it was a little rundown. You guys just wanted a place to live together. You two made it what it is now. A warm and happy place where you two could come home after a long day of work. You spent hours thinking of how to decorate it. Choosing the right and most affordable couch, choosing the wallpaper, choosing where the furniture went.
In the end, it had turned into a beautiful apartment. It was a haven for the two of you but what mattered the most was that you shared it with him, your Peter. You sigh, feeling overwhelmed by the loss again. You had moved on, of course. You had to. How else would you live otherwise? And you had promised Peter you would. Your mind is overwhelmed by the sudden memories as he laid in your arms. He had been crushed by ruble during an attack by a villain, his body was weak, his eyes glistened as they looked at you. You remember caressing his face and hair. He loved it when you did that. He always said it was the perfect way to soothe his nerves. The perfect way to get him to relax and nap after a stressful day.
Your own eyes were filled with tears as you saw it. The way his life was slowly leaving his body. What hurt a million times more, if it was even possible to hurt that much, was that you knew he knew. He knew that was it. There was no turning back. There was no miracle. There was no secret medicine or miracle serum that could make him get up and walk away from this unscathed. That was it.
You held him in your arms, rubble all around you. He looked at your eyes, his own hazy, as you caressed his face and hair. He gave you a gentle smile as he reassured you, he was okay.
“You will move on, right, baby?” he asked you, his voice indicating how little time there was left. “You have to… You must promise me you will. This city depends on you.”
You nodded your head and unable to hold them back any longer, your tears spilled down your face. You remember how some of your tears had landed on his pale yet still beautiful face.
“You must promise me, out loud, darling. Please,” he said, struggling more to get his words out.
“I promise. I promise I will try my best…” you said, and he had nodded. He looked satisfied with your response.
“You must continue – you are my hero. You always have been. And you are the love of my life, darling… I only wish we had more time. That I had more time to make you happier… To make you, my wife. Please – promise me you will be open to other loves,” he had gasped out.
You shook your head. That was impossible. How could you fall for someone else when Peter was the love of your life? Peter, noticing your reluctance, lifted his hand weakly to your face. Despite everything, he was still trying to comfort you. You felt something in you break further. He wiped your tears and gave you a weak yet comforting smile.
“Please promise me you will allow yourself to love again… If there is someone out there that makes you feel like that, please promise me you won’t shut them out. Please, love, promise me,” he said, looking at your eyes and cleaning your tears away.
His voice was weaker, and you noticed his chest was beginning to rise slower and slower. The time was running out…
“I promise I will. I will open my heart if someone comes along but I promise I will never stop loving you, Peter,” you had answered, trying to make him happy in his last minutes. He smiled at you, sweetly, and thanked you. You held him close to you, breathing in his scent. You tried to hold on to his warmth desperately. You clung to him, like you could defend him from Death herself. Like you could defy her this one time.
You cried your soul out as his heartbeat ceased to beat. You cried out as his body became limped in your arms. You cried as his chest stopped moving. You cried, cried, and cried as you held him close to you like your tears and grip could bring him back.
You cursed Death.
You often worried about hurting Peter if something happened to you. You never counted on Peter being the one who left too soon.
You inhale shakily. Your vision has become blurred with tears as you continue to stare at the picture on the wall. You turn around, remembering that Miguel is there. You wipe your tears discreetly. You swallow the lump in your throat, trying to force it down. Otherwise, the moment you speak, your tears will flow. You clear your throat.
“It doesn’t really bother me – and besides, I spend a lot of time out,” you finally say, sounding somewhat normal now. Though the ache is there, deep in your chest. It’s like someone stabbed you in the heart with a wooden stick and left a small piece of it stuck. It always hurts, it always aches.
Miguel doesn’t reply as you turn back around, feeling more in control of yourself. However, you can see something in his eyes. Perhaps understanding? You guessed he probably knew to some extent what had happened to you. It was a canon event for all spider-people. To lose someone.
“Have you eaten anything?” Miguel asks suddenly, dropping the apartment conversation probably for your own sake.
You shake your head. It was hours since you had eaten something. Since yesterday, really.
“There’s some food here. Let me…” he says trailing off, turning around to get a plate from a cabinet. You can’t help but feel a little surprised at how fast he learned his way around the kitchen. Then again, it’s not that large you realize. You approach the kitchen island and take a seat on one of the two island chairs as Miguel turns around with a plate of pasta. Your eyebrows raise in surprise. It is one of your comfort foods. Miguel slides it over to you, gently. A fork is already on it, ready for you.
You slide the plate closer, the scent of it making your stomach growl instantly. You’re definitely hungry.
“Thank you,” you say before you dig in. You can’t help but smile with satisfaction. It is amazing. “This is really good.”
Miguel doesn’t say anything, just watches you. You eat some more, feeling a bit self-conscious as you feel his gaze on you, but you ignore it. Or try to.
“So, are you a really great cook or is pasta one of the few things you can cook?” you ask, slowing down on your eating, trying to fill in the silence.
Miguel shrugs. “My mother taught me how to cook when I was a teenager. It stuck.”
You nod, still eating. “Great skill to have, really… It helped me and –“ you pause, realizing you were about to mention Peter. You swallow. “It helped Peter and I when we were in college,” you finish, looking down at your plate.
A hint of a smile forms on your face as you remember Peter and you cooking for the week over the weekends. You guys lived separately but shared groceries to help each other out. It saved you guys a lot of time and money and brought the two of you closer.
“It is a great skill to have,” Miguel agrees quietly as you continue to eat, looking down at your plate.
You nod silently as you finish eating. You look up at Miguel, he’s looking down at the counter. His hands are flat against the counter, and he looks lost in his own thoughts. You can’t help but take this time to look at him. The sight of him in your kitchen is really something. You think about how great he is at these things like looking after a woman when they’re on their period or cooking. You want to facepalm yourself as you realize it’s obvious he would be good at these things. He did have a wife and daughter at one point, you remind yourself. You look down at your plate.
“Oh, I made this for you, too,” Miguel says at last, breaking the silence.
You look up curiously, wondering what else he had made. He turns around towards the stove and you watch carefully as he retrieves a mug from one of the cabinets. Again, you feel surprised seeing how he knows exactly where to find what he’s looking for. It disappears from your view in front of him and you hear him pour something. He turns around again, holding one of your mugs. Whatever it is, is hot as you can see steam from the top. He sets the mug down on the counter and slides it over to you. Again, his movements are gentle. You lean forward and reach for it.
“Careful. It’s hot,” he warns, as you pull the mug towards you gently.
The scent fills your nostrils quickly and you recognize the sweet scent that met you earlier when you exited your bedroom. You look up at him.
“Canelita,” you say, grinning.
Miguel nods. “Growing up, my mom said it helped with cramps. It used to help my…” he trails off.
You nod. “Yeah, my grandma used to say that, too.” You pause as you inhale the sweetness of cinnamon. “Thank you…” you reply, with sincerity, still meeting his eyes.
Miguel only nods. You drink the warm liquid, enjoying the warmth that spreads down your throat, chest, and finally your stomach. As it settles in your stomach, you feel warm and cozy.
Miguel clears his throat then and looks down at his gizmo. “Well – I should get going. I have some things to catch up on,” he says turning his attention back to you.
You nod as you place the mug on the counter gently and get up. He walks out of the kitchen portion and heads to the middle of the room. He starts clicking on his gizmo, presumably starting a multidimensional portal. You walk towards him, leaving some distance, of course. He looks up at you as the portal appears in the middle of your apartment behind him.
You clear your throat. “Hey – I just wanted to say thank you… For everything. I know Jessica asked you to check up on me, but you did much more than that. I truly appreciate it,” you say, hoping that you’re fully expressing how grateful you are.
You can’t help but think about how you’d probably still be in bed right now. Miguel nods.
“It’s no problem…” Miguel replies, though he looks like he wants to say more. You watch, waiting but he just stares back with little emotion until he nods at you and turns around. He starts walking into the portal. The bright lights coming from the portal create shadows in your apartment. You watch wordlessly until he looks behind his shoulder. “Don’t forget – don’t mention it to Jessica. She can be weird about being thanked sometimes.”
You nod. “I won’t bring it up, no worries. Thank you again. Enjoy your night!” you call out and he just nods before he disappears into the portal. The portal disappears a few seconds after him, taking away its shadows with it.
You sigh as you stand there for a few more seconds before taking a seat again on the counter island. You drink more canelita, still cherishing the warm feeling. You look at the stove. Everything is in containers and there’s no sight of dirty pans, pots, or utensils.
“Cooked and washed the dishes…” you say to yourself before taking a sip again.
Your attention turns to the cabinet you found him fixing earlier. You get up and walk towards it. You open it with no issue. You think about all the little nicks this kitchen has. Like the drawer that doesn’t come out fully or the other cabinet door that makes a noise every time you open it. Curiosity gets the best of you because before you know it, you are pulling said drawer. Your lips part in surprise as the drawer fully slides out without issues. You check the other cabinet door. No sound.
You sigh as you look around, your eyes landing on the containers. One of them is full of leftover pasta and the other one contains the canelita. Your thoughts are interrupted as you hear your gizmo go off. You turn in the direction it came from, trying to remember where you left it last night. You are usually very careful with it but last night you barely made it through the door.
You find the gizmo on the console table in the living room section of your apartment. You realize there are a few messages from your colleagues like Hobie, Miles, Ben, and Jessica. You quickly reply to the first three who asked about your whereabouts before you move to Jessica’s. You realize she sent multiple messages all ranging from asking how your last mission went to why you weren’t answering to asking if you were okay. The last one makes you stop. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion as you read it.
“Okay… You haven’t replied to any of my messages. Do I need to send someone to check on you? You’ve been MIA all day. Let me know you’re okay!!”
You look up towards where the portal was opened just minutes ago. You shake your head and reply to Jessica, notifying her about what happened. You leave out Miguel though. You put away your gizmo in its usual spot and look around your apartment, thinking. The lamps in the living room section are still on, the record player has stopped playing, however.
“Hm.”
--------------------------------------------- Translation for italicized words: Coño - fuck (it varies by country) Mierda - Shit Canelita - a tea made out of cinnamon sticks
Next Part
A/N: Might do part two. If it matters, I listened to "Nonviolent Communication" from the ATSV album as inspiration. Such a lovely song for Miguel, I think.
I love Miguel O'Hara. That's all.
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bluur00 · 3 months
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𝐃𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐊 - 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎
hurt/comfort. fem!reader.
It’s been a few months after you and Kenji broke up, he said it’s because he was seeing another girl and that he lost interest in you. That broke your heart, knowing how much the old Kenji you knew would never do such thing.
He would never, yet he did.
“Why are you leaving so suddenly!? Can’t we try to talk whatever the problem is?” you raised your voice, your tears threatening to fall down.
Kenji didn’t look back at you, all you can see is his back carrying his backpack filled with he clothes keeps in your apartment, “I’m seeing someone else, I’m moving back to my house at the island.”
He left.
That night you cried in your bed, cried yourself to sleep, alone in your apartment, you sobbed your eyes out, wishing all this was a dream, a nightmare.
In those few months, you worked on yourself to move on and forget about the relationship and how it broke down. It’s still really hard to forget about it, what happened that night was very sudden.
When Kenji spilled those hurtful words, it hit you like a truck, that time your legs were very weak, it threatened to make you fall at that moment.
Whatever, you have to focus on your job, your life, especially in moving on.
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“Kenji! Bro, where are you going?” one of his friends ask, seeing Kenji walking in a wobbly line away from the club. “Y-Y/n, I wanna see Y/n,” he mumbled, one of his friends catched up to him, “you and her broke a few months ago,” his friend said, suprised on what Kenji was headed to.
“don’t care, need to see Y/n.” he repeated again.
“okay, okay, get in and I’ll take you to her,” his friend said, pulling Kenji towards his car and laying him in the backseat.
You were staying up late, reading a book that you always wanted to finish, but then a knock came. You ignored it at first, but it came again, you placed your bookmark between the two pages and went to check the door.
You looked through the peek hole of the door, and it was, ‘Kenji’s friend? who’s beside him? Kenji?’ you sighed and opened the door, “why are you here, it’s late.” you asked, not wanting to deal with your ex in the middle of the night.
“Please just take him, he wants to talk to you,” his friend said, trying to pass Kenji to you, you reconsider and reconsider, but in the end you took Kenji’s arms and closed the door on his friend.
You led Kenji to the couch, and laid him down, going to the kitchen to get warm water, but you then heard him mumble your name. You ignored it, hes probably dreaming, “Y/n? That you, baby?” he raised his head to your direction, you hummed in response, he then continued.
“I miss you, Y/n, so much. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you these last few months, heck, I had to get drunk just so I can forget you, but even that… I,” he paused, out of breath, hes clearly still worn out, “I still couldn’t get you off my mind, even the… the city has been questioning where ultraman has been-“ you cut him off by stirring the glass loudly, even though it’s just water.
“Stop your babbling and drink, so you can go back to your girlfriend, pretty sure she would be pissed knowing you’re here.” you said, clearly annoyed by his presence and him even opening his mouth.
He eventually drinks it a bit, before pushing it away and realised what you said, “oh that girl? Who is she?” Kenji asked, confused, “don’t worry you’ll remember her once you’re sober,” you said before leaving to go to your room.
“Y/n,” Kenji called, you turned to face him, “can you change my clothes? please, baby?” he pleaded.
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“No, your clothes aren’t here anymore remember? and stop calling me that,” you said before continuing to go to your bedroom.
Once you laid in your bed, you couldn’t help but think and remembered, how Kenji sleeping in uncomfortable clothes can pain his back when he wakes up, but your no one to undress him. Even so, you continued opening your closet and searched for clothes that he left.
Kenji woke up with a hectic headache, he expected to wake up in your apartment, especially remembering what he said last night. “Surprised you haven’t left yet,” he heard your voice coming from the kitchen, it seems like you were making tea.
“Y/n, let’s talk,” Kenji said, with pleading eyes, “please,” you turned your head slightly and chuckled, “still drunk? Thought sleeping it through can make you sober,” you said, taking your mug and sat down beside Kenji on the couch, taking a sip and placing it down at the coffee table, “whatever, just make it quick please,” you said.
“Well, that night, that girl, it was all a lie,” Kenji confessed, you showed a confused look, ‘he wasn’t lying last night?’ you thought, he continued, “I did that break up because, I was scared,” he paused, but you quickly interfered, “what do you mean scared?” you asked, sharp tone, highly confused on what hes leading to.
“I was scared, I realised that recently that time I was focusing too much on the baseball tournaments and interviews, especially with me being ultraman, I don’t want to put you at risk, risk of dying when I can’t be there to save you,” he paused again, his eyes beginning to tear up, you kept quiet, suprised by his real reason.
“I knew that if I didn’t use the reason of seeing someone else, you would make up a reason for us to talk and solve it,” he said, he knew you, he could predict you, and you were suprised of how much he knew.
“I knew that if I looked at you before leaving that night, if I take one look into your teary eyes, I would stay and I would fail to protect you from future dangers that can come,” he said, before he completely broke down, right in front of you.
Slowly, you neared him, ran your fingers through his raven hair. When he raised his head to take a peek, you opened your arms for him to hug, which he then took. He cried on your shoulder, as you stayed quiet and gave him a silent forgiveness, caressing his back, arms, his hair.
“I’m safe, Kenji.”
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cherriegyuu · 1 year
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Willow | 02
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pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, marriage of convenience word count: 5.2k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)
part one | part two | part three (final) | drabble
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Seungcheol functioned like clockwork. 
Every day he woke up at the exact same time, his alarm was obnoxiously loud — especially considering how much of a light sleeper he was —, showered, cocked the same breakfast, and left the apartment precisely at 7:45.
You don’t remember him being that punctual but your best guess was that grown-up Seungcheol took his life and responsibilities much more seriously than teenage him. And he probably had a lot on his plate too. He was set to take over the firm once his dad retired, something that wouldn’t happen any time soon, but it always felt like something he was being prepared for it. 
And being honest, you couldn’t say that you knew this version of Seungcheol, not really. He was hot and cold with you, mostly cold, so it was hard to know where you stood in your relationship with him. 
Truth was, that had a lot to do with you as well. You weren’t trying to make things easier for the two of you, if anything it felt like you were trying your best to make it as hard as possible — even if that wasn’t your intention at all. 
While your husband was always perfectly on time, you were always running around late for every single appointment you could ever make. People from work already knew that if there was a student scheduled for 10:00h, you’d probably get there a little later. It really wasn’t on purpose, you tried your best to be on time, even tried to follow along with Seungcheol’s agenda. But it never worked out. So instead of being on time and having everything ready, all it did was make you nervous and even more late.
You also didn’t follow a schedule for your day. Every day, on your way home, you made a little detour, never failing in finding a new place to go or a different restaurant to try. 
At the end of the day, you and Seungcheol lived separate lives, barely talking to each other, or even acknowledging each other. Most of it was just niceties because both of you felt the need to do so. It would have felt even more awkward to walk past each other in the hallway and don’t even say good morning. Anyone who looked at the two of you would think that you were just roommates, not actually married. Hell, not even friends. 
If anything, the house arrangement contract you wrote made things even worse — if that was even possible.   
After signing it, with a look of complete disbelief on his face, Seungcheol went to his room. His words “my own wife is telling me that she wants to date other men while saying that I should date other women” still rang in your head. You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you didn’t want to push him to do anything at all. Your only thought was that since the marriage was fake, there was no love between you, there was no reason for you to be stuck to each other and live completely without happiness. 
There wasn’t anything either of you could do in that regard, there was no way of canceling or ending the marriage, so all you wanted to do was give him a way to find something that could bring him a little bit of joy. If said joy came in the shape of another woman, then so be it.
After that, you never talked again. And he barely showed any emotion at all around you, no reaction. He didn’t complain or seemed fazed when you almost let the dirty water you used to clean your brushes fall on his desk and ruin, well, everything. He still followed the rules you created, almost religiously. Whenever he cooked, he made enough for you, if he was the one doing laundry he was careful not to damage any of your clothes. 
Living like that felt oddly lonely. 
You were used to being by yourself, having your own space. The last time you shared an apartment with someone, or more specifically, a room, was when you were still in college with Yeda. But the thought of living with someone else but never actually seeing them… 
You thought that once you were married you would have someone to share your life with, even if that someone turned out to be Seungcheol. Naively, you figured that all of those years of your childhood spent together — even if those were also forced on both of you —, would play a part in making sure that cohabitation was a possibility. 
We could still try to be friends, was what you told yourself.
Because your husband wasn't all that bad, to begin with. You might not see eye to eye on many things but you knew that he was a good person. You had hoped that, maybe, living in the same place, seeing each other every day, would change something about your relationship with him. And in a way, it did. It just wasn't what you expected. Instead of growing closer, you couldn’t be further apart. 
You glanced at your phone again, the bright numbers seemed to be mocking you. 
It was past 3 am and there was still no sign of Seungcheol. When 9 pm rolled around you assumed he had stayed at the office a little bit longer, finishing up whatever it was. Then 9 became midnight and staying in bed wasn’t something you could stand anymore so you moved to the living room, a book and a blanket in hand. But reading too was hard, the words were all floating around in your mind and none of it actually made any sense. Your mind was too focused on the fact that Seungcheol wasn't home yet to focus on the story.
Another hour went by and there was still no sign of him. The world outside the apartment was quiet and no car could be heard on the street.
The truth was that you were worried about him. There were little bells inside your mind telling you that something must have happened to him because that just wasn’t Seungcheol. It wasn’t him when he was young and it also wasn’t him as an adult. He wasn’t the kind of person who would disappear without telling anyone, so you were sure that there was someone who knew where he was. 
The most obvious choice would be to call him and it would have been a great plan if you had his number at all. 
The realization that you knew nothing at all about your husband made a sickening feeling slowly spread through your body.
It was so stupid to not have his number and it made absolutely no sense because he was your husband. Even if you were a fake wife, shouldn’t you at least be able to communicate with him if needed? Sometimes people have emergencies that couldn’t wait for their significant other to get home — or in your case never get home at all.
Option number two was to go through the things in his office. He should have at least a business card or something, anything at all, with a phone number. You thought about calling your parents or even his parents. How would you explain that even though you kept telling them that everything was fine, that things were finally falling into place, you didn’t have your husband's number? And never mind knowing someone who worked with him. Seokmin, what that his name? Seokmin probably knew where Seungcheol was but then again, there was no way to reach him either. 
You stood up to cross the room, your blanket and book both forgotten on the couch when you heard the sound of keys being put in the lock and a second later the door was pushed open. 
Seungcheol stood precariously on his legs, an arm over Seokmin’s shoulders, while the younger one tried his best to stop his friend from falling face-first on the floor. 
“Cheol” you breathed in relief and rushed towards him, your hands reached for his cheeks, forcing him to look at you “Cheol…”
He opened his eyes for a second and a drunken smile, or at least an attempt at a smile.
“Ah, wife! Precisely who I wanted to see” his words were slurred, almost in sync with his body as it swayed from side to side. 
Seungcheol stepped away from Seokmin and dropped all of his weight onto you. Your arms immediately circled his waist as you bent your knees a little, trying to hold him up.
"Sorry," Seokmin said as he tried to pull Seungcheol from you "I've never seen him get this drunk before, I didn't think it possible"
Neither did you, but then again there was a lot about Seungcheol that you didn't know. 
"It's fine" you moved your feet back until you felt the couch behind your knees and with Seokmin's help you were able to get Seungcheol to sit "Thank you for bringing him home"
Seokmin smiled at you, tightly. He wanted to say more but he knew that if he did he would be butting in your relationship with Seungcheol and his friend would probably give him hell for it. Drunk Seungcheol was a problem — in the form of a cute lovesick oversized puppy, as he has recently discovered —, but sober Seungcheol would bite his head off without as much as a warning.
"I should have brought him home earlier, before he drank himself stupid"
You shook your head and pushed the hair out of Seungcheol’s forehead. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at him, not really. Before he got home you felt this pain in your stomach, telling you that there was something incredibly wrong, that he was in some kind of trouble. But the only real trouble was the fact he had, as Seokmin said, drank himself stupid.
"Honestly, it's okay. I'm just glad he's home safe. Again, thank you for that"
 "I wish I could say it was no trouble" he laughed lightly "Do you need help with anything?"
You shook your head.
"I got it from here"
Seokmin opened the door and let himself out. He stopped for a second as if remembering something and reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card. He didn't say anything as put it by your keyes.
You realized then that he knew. Seokmin knew about your relationship with Seungcheol, or lack of it. He just smiled and closed the door. You stayed frozen in place, looking at the door, as if somehow it would grant you answers.
Though you had told Yeda the true nature of your marriage, you never expected Seungcheol to do the same and to Seokmin, of all people. Not that you really knew him but just based on his interaction with Seungcheol on your wedding day, Seokmin was the last person you would expect to know the truth.
"y/n," Seungcheol said and you turned to him, "I think I want to throw up"
His warning was almost too late, there was no time to get him to the bathroom or for you to get him a bucket, but just enough for him to grab on the flower vase in front of the couch. You turned away from him, knowing that the smell of vomit wouldn't bother you, but seeing him throw up actually would. 
"I'm really sorry"
It had been so long since you last heard him talk like that, almost childlike. The Seungcheol you knew liked to pose as this big, bad guy, but in reality, he was more of a softy that got things done. He could pout for days if he wanted.
Not only did he sound childlike, but he also looked like a child that messed up. His eyes were almost helpless as he looked at the floor, then his shoes, and finally his suit jacket. 
"Don't worry about it" You reached a hand for him. His eyes focused on your hand, almost mesmerized, before his long fingers wrapped around yours "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed"
You helped him off his jacket and held both of his hands as he allowed you to pull him up from the couch. He pushed his shoes off once you reached the hall leading up to his room. This time, instead of putting all of his weight on you, Seungcheol used the wall to steady himself, still his arm was around your shoulder and he leaned a little towards you. 
You wanted to ask him what happened, what made him want to drink so much. More than anything you wanted to know why he didn't warn you in advance.
Over the four months that you lived together, though there was no real interaction between the two of you, Seungcheol always found ways to talk to you. At first, there was a yellow post-it stuck to your door. They were simple notes. I made breakfast, or dinner with your parents tonight, I'll pick you up at 7. And sometimes they were more caring, those, you came to realize, were always blue. Do you still hate spinach? just in case, i didn't add any or let me know if there's anything you want to eat and even i canceled dinner tonight with my mom, you looked tired last night, you should rest this weekend. 
He always made sure to tell you if he was going to be late, always. So not knowing where he was… you hated it.
Seungcheol didn't complain when you pushed him down on the mattress and undid his tie, later moving on to his shirt and then using it to clean his mouth
You didn't realize but Seungcheol's eyes were on you the entire time. Despite the alcohol, his mind was hyper-aware of your finger touching his skin, on the way you kept biting your lips as if doing your best to hold back from cussing him out.
"Can you shower on your own?" Seuncheol made a noise that you could only translate as a no "Do you want to brush your teeth?"
You probably already knew the answer to that too but still had to ask. His eyes were almost closed and he stayed sitting by some sort of miracle. 
"I don't think I should stand up again" You nodded at him and turned around, you could at least get him to use some mouthwash before he fell asleep and maybe get him to drink a glass of water, but he held your hand and lightly pulled you back — not in a forcible way, just to get your attention "I don't like it when you make that face"
His voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper.
"It's the same face you did on our wedding day, when you walked down the aisle. You looked so pretty but sad, and angry too. Why were you so angry?"
You looked at his eyes for a second before looking away. They were all too demanding, wanting more than you were willing to give him. Your wedding day, believe it or not, wasn't a day you thought about too often and when you did think about it felt like years had gone by. The night you decided to suggest the contract was the one you thought of more often, with much more sadness. 
"I wasn't angry" 
Your voice was quiet as pulled the duvet for him to get under. In silence, Seungcheol removed his pants and laid down. He let go of your hand for only a second before holding it again.
"I was scared and worried, like today. You were gone for a really long time and I didn't know where you were. I couldn't even call you"
Having those thoughts around your mind was so different from actually saying them out loud, saying them to Seungcheol. If the night taught you one thing was that you didn't know anything at all about your husband. Everything you thought you knew was wrong. But if you could make a guess, judging by the way his eyes seemed to be a little more focused and his words a little less slurred, it was probably okay to say that he was sobering up. Maybe throwing up was all he needed.
"Our marriage is just so weird. My wife told me to sleep with other people" he laughed and pulled his hand away, closing his eyes "It's almost like we're friends with benefits but without the friendship part nor the benefits. We're just a piece of paper. If you think about it, we're nothing really"
Tomorrow, you suddenly promised yourself, tomorrow will be different and we will start this all over again.
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The second he said yes to drinking with Seokmin, Seungcheol knew that he would regret it. The first time he went to a bar with the younger one, Seuncheol told him all about his fake marriage. So, of course, the second time couldn't be much different. He regretted it for more reasons than he cared to admit. 
The entire night he behaved like a pubescent thirteen year old complaining about the fact that his crush didn't like him back. He was stupid enough to tell Seokmin all about the contract you came up with, to which his friend laughed hysterically. Because you must be the shitties husband in the history of the world if your wife has already given up on you like this.
And if that was what you thought of him, if you saw him as the worst husband in the history of the world, could he blame you? On your wedding way, that is known to be a day that everyone remembers, he was a complete idiot to you. No excuse he could ever come up with would be good enough. Because, truth be told, his behavior then had been inexcusable. In your shoes, he would have probably done much worse. You had shown him mercy. 
And kept showing him mercy, even after months of him being silent and barely being in the apartment. He used work as an excuse often to get him out of situations in his daily life. He never thought that he would use it as a way to stay clear of you. 
Because Seungcheol did work a lot but he also knew how to take time off. His job was important and his clients too were important, but he learned that he should have time to himself. and now that he was married, he needed to have time for you too. Even if it was just to stay home with you. He should have done that but instead, he found ways to be at the office until later than he usually did, took clients that he normally wouldn’t, and did the most stupid thing of all: went to a bar with Seokmin.
And the worse part of it all was that he remembered every single thing that he did the night before. He wished he was one of those people who get drunk and just forget about all the embarrassing things they did. But he wasn’t. 
Seungcheol remembered being carried home by Seokmin, who again was having too much fun laughing at him, he remembers throwing up, the way you held on to him. But more than anything he remembers the way you said his name, Cheol, ever so quietly, when he walked in, the way your eyes searched his face as if looking for anything that could be wrong with him — other than being drunk.
He hated that he talked about being friends with you while he was drunk. Hated that you didn’t get to hear him while he was sober because he had prepared a whole speech for you, almost as if he was going to court and needed to plead his case.
He had plans to talk to you and maybe that was why he went out with Seokmin, to get his friend to push in the direction he wanted to go. Because truth be told, Seungcheol was scared. 
For over ten years of his life, he knew that he would marry you. So had time to think about it, and ponder on every possibility that could happen. Because he had been in love with you for longer than that, but not once he was allowed to act on his feelings. At first, it was because of your brother, then because of himself, and then finally when you closed a door on his face — metaphorically speaking. 
And when he finally had a chance to do so, he fucked up. There was no other way to say it. The two of you were already married, so what was the worst thing that could happen? For you to reject him? That was already happening. 
He hated that he lost the chance to charm you from the get-go. And then again for months. He couldn’t miss the chance yet again.
Seungcheol pushed himself up on his elbows, tentatively opening his eyes. He expected the room to be filled with light but he was surprised to see that the only source of it came from the half opened door. He never closed his blinds before going to bed, he never felt the need to as he usually got up as soon as the sun was up, and he certainly hadn’t closed them the night before going to bed. 
However, no amount of darkness could make him look past you, sleeping in a weird position in the armchair in front of his bed.
Seungcheol, who was usually a light sleeper, had no idea that you came into his room a couple of times during the night until you finally convinced yourself that it was okay for you to sleep in there because you were too afraid that we would throw up during the night; he had no idea that you got up in the middle of the night to pull the duvet over his body.
He knew nothing about those things, yet he felt overwhelmed at the sight of you.
For a second he wanted nothing more than to stay sitting there and just watch you. As creepy as it might be, it was the first time he felt like the two of you were more than just two people who shared the same apartment. 
He could only hope that the night before had changed something for you too, because now there was no way he would just let things go back to how they were. 
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You were worried about Seuncheol. Had been the entire day. You woke up to the sound of the shower running and the sight of his empty bed in front of you. You left as soon as you woke up, deciding that he was probably way too hungover to want to talk to you then. 
So instead of staying at home, wondering when it would be a good time talk to talk to him, you went out. There was nothing for you to do, no place to go and Yeda already had plans with her boyfriend so she couldn’t meet you. 
You indulged yourself, going to the mall and getting a few new brushes and paint — not that you needed anything, but a mind filled with weird thoughts and a credit card with more limit than necessary could be the ruin of someone. But going there was somewhat of a bad idea, considering how many couples there were around. 
All of them looked in love, happy to be around each other. You couldn’t help but wonder if it could be the same for you and Seungcheol. If you had talked to him in the months leading up to the wedding, would things be different now? If he hadn’t been a complete idiot on your wedding day, would things be different?
There were many answers to those questions, but none of them would matter. There was no way to go back to the past, to redo things. So all you had was the present, as it was, and a chance to change everything. 
On your wedding day, your dad told you that he didn’t love your mother when they got married. He said that the love he felt for her was built over the years they stayed together. And you wanted to try that. 
Because you never really believe in love at first sight, the idea of it was just too irrational for you. You believed that curiosity, attraction, lust, and enchantment could all be feelings that are awoken in someone at first sight. But love? That was a complicated feeling, that no three seconds look ever give you. 
Because you wanted a love that was constantly warm. Too hot or too cold would burn you all the same. You didn’t want a relationship that was all over the place, with too many ups and downs. 
And maybe, Seungcheol could that someone for you. 
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You had been standing in front of Seungcheol’s room for the past five minutes, building up the courage no knock on his door, had already raised your hand twice but was yet to finally do it. Seungcheol’s drunker words mirrored your thoughts, so you had to talk to him.
You took a deep breath before you forced your fingers to tap lightly against his door. You didn’t wait for his answer and stuck your head inside. 
He was sitting on his bed, a book open over his chest while he scrolled through his phone. That was a scene you had seen many times while you were a teenager. It was easy to remember an 18-year-old Seungcheol lying on the couch, in that exact position. 
“Seungcheol?” he looked at you surprised, he hadn’t heard you knock on his door “Come out, let’s have dinner”.
Without a word, Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. His surprised eyes were focused on the food on the table. He clearly remembered you telling him that you didn’t cook, your mom said the same thing too.
“You cooked?” he sounded a little nervous, as if unsure that he should be asking.
He looked cute, you decided then. There was this childish look in his eyes, half in wonder, half in expectancy. 
Seungcheol was waiting for something to go wrong again. The last time you had gotten him dinner was the night everything went to shit. What if this time you told him that you wanted a divorce because of the shit he pulled the night before? He was honestly ready to beg you not to do that. 
“No, I got it on the way home” you waved a hand and he laughed and you felt your cheeks get warm “Are you feeling better? I left before we could talk”
He smiled and nodded at you, looking at the food in front of him. There was nothing special about it, it was something that he could have cooked, but still, his heart did a little flip inside his chest. 
“I’m sorry about last night. I swear I don’t drink like that all the time. Or at all” his own cheeks got hot “I’m sorry you had to clean up after me”
“It’s fine, really. Yeda was my roommate in college and I wish she would throw up in a vase. I think I cleaned that dorm more than anyone else that used it before or after us”
Yeda was a good friend, but she took the idea of being the life of the party a little too far sometimes. That alone was the reason you found yourself going back to your parents' house almost every weekend. You had convinced yourself that the two-hour drive was worth it, if it meant that you didn’t have to clean vomit again. 
The two of you eat in silence as you tried to find a good way to start a conversation with him. Why was it so hard? You had no trouble talking with him when you were teenagers. Sure, there was a lot of bickering but that was still better than nothing at all. 
“Is everything okay with you? You’re not eating” he said quietly. the food in front of him was almost gone while yours had barely been touched “You don’t like the food?”
You shook your head and set down your fork. 
“I’m a little nervous, so it’s hard to eat” he didn’t need to ask to know what you were nervous about “Can we talk, please?”
In silence, the two of you put the dishes away and the food leftovers on the fridge. There was no way either of you would keep eating so it was better not to waste any time.
Seungcheol’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour. He was certain, 100%, that would you ask for a divorce. He knew that you couldn’t do it. The rational part of his brain told him that it wasn’t an option at all. But the irrational side? It didn’t care. All the worse possible scenarios were playing in his mind. 
The first one, as he expected, would be for you to ask for a divorce; the second one would be you telling him that there was someone in your life, someone you were in love with. 
That thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. You being in love with someone else was too much for him. 
“Oh my god! Will you stop looking at me like that? I'm not going to bite your head off! I want to talk with my husband. Millions of people do that every day. I'm sure millions of people are probably doing that right now”
He smiled then. That was exactly how remembered you, that was the you he wanted to see the most on your wedding day, when he talked shit and you talked right back at him. Because there was no way that he would get to have the last word in a conversation like that. 
And it was also the first time you addressed him as your husband, at least in front of him. The first time you said it out loud. 
But in that moment you confused his feelings for fear when all that he felt was some sort of joy. How borderline pathetic was it that he felt happy over the simple fact that his wife acknowledged his existence?
“The things you said last night… I agree with them. Our marriage won't last very long, we won't last very long, if we continue this way. We will be broken beyond repair if we don't do something right now. So we have to change, we have to, at the very least, be friends but we will never get there if we keep going this way”
That wasn't exactly what you wanted to say but you hoped that Seungcheol would understand, wished that he would read into your sloppy and messy words. He was a lawyer, after all, it was what he did for a living. Right?
“Let's go out once a week then, sort of like a date? But not really” you shook your hand and covered your face, you felt like a teenager asking the guy you had a crush on a date “Just so we can get used to each other again, be friends and all that”
Seungcheol pressed his lips, trying his best to suppress the smiles that threatened to take over his entire face. With a short nod and shake of hands, you and Seungcheol settled down on another agreement.
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user211201 · 4 months
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Ape boy
--- Originally posted on 2017-01-10 on realhankmccoy ---
“Just don’t make me dumb, man, I want to keep everything about my mind totally intact,” I told my friend at the lab.
I was totally willing to go through the procedure but I didn’t want it messing with my intellect any – my job and lifestyle were too important to me.
They promised me a whole new masculine experience, that they could bring out the man in me in ways that were easily accessible through epigenetic therapy.
I’d be fitter, more energetic, more attractive and just altogether healthier. It was in the beta testing process and they said they’d throw in $3000 if I signed off, too. I’d only need to take a few weeks off work for an outpatient trial.
“That didn’t seem so bad,” I said after the doctor finished up removing the slow drip from my arm and the infusion was complete. Took two different bags of fluid but I mostly felt fine, if a little faint at first.
I got home and realized I was pretty tired so I stripped down and went to bed. I started noticing the changes the next day already. I did have more energy. My face seemed handsomer, just a tad. After two days I was feeling pretty into this.
It was the third day when I started noticing that I was getting beefier.
That was cool, I thought, but then I noticed I was feeling hornier, too. I ignored it at first, but by the end of the day I was jacking off in my bedroom, hard. I got up off my bed, still stroking my dick, to check myself out in the mirror.
“Looks hot,” I thought, stroking it slowly. If this stuff made my sex drive a little stronger, that was fine with me.
I started getting obsessed with checkin’ out the changes in the mirror, and I had so much energy that I started working out. I’d be doing pushups on my hardwood floor and getting excited over how I was going to flex in front of the bathroom mirror after I finished a set of 50.
I went back to the lab and they didn’t seem to think it was a problem.
So I figured, what the hell, I might as well enjoy this. Pretty soon I was hanging out in just my underwear all the time. That didn’t make me dumb, I knew, it just felt good. I might as well get into it, I figured.
Only problem is I got used to it pretty quick. I hate wearing clothes now, dudes.
I looked in the mirror one day and I just looked so fucking good with these thick pecs and the thicker stubble on my face. I figured I should have fun with a haircut so I got kind of a high and tight, cut real short though, and that just turned me on. Even my facial structure has changed from this shit they’re doing to me. My ears look like they stick out more, like some dumb ape or something, and that just makes me hard. I’ve hot this thick abdomen and these beefy deltoids. I feel like I look more like a football dude, even, and I started watching football even. Might as well have fun while I’m stuck in outpatient anyhow.
They told me it wouldn’t alter my mind any but it’s like I’m addicted to working out, flexing in the mirror, taking selfies, hooking up – with dudes – I just find em on my phone. I stopped reading. I look at these hairy legs and I get hard just touching em, I rub a hand across my pecs and my nipples are hard right away and I feel my cock jump up wanting a piece of the action. All I can think about is my goddamn cock, man.
So I took another week off work because I’m not ready to go back, and told myself on Monday I’d start getting ready to get my life on track. I just procrastinated the whole day, jacking off in bed, mostly, slowly stroking it. I guess my new bod’s so awesome that it’s just depressing to think of going back to the office.
My alarm goes off on Tuesday, and I throw it against the wall and say fuck it. One more day of fun’s not gonna hurt. Dudes, I look so fucking good. At least I’ll be productive today, I tell myself. So I start off the day with a ton of pushups, make myself a protein shake, and I look so ripped in the mirror that I figure I’ll score myself a hookup off Grindr. Guy comes over, and his hairy, hard pecs crushed against mine – my rubbing the short beard I’ve got started all up on his asshole, and that turns him on enough that he’s letting me lift his legs and plow the shit out of him..
After he’s gone, I’m back in front of the mirror saying “you fucking stud. Yeah you fuckin’ ape boy. Fuckin’ just want to fuck with dudes, don’t you, gay boy. Yeah you jocked up fuck. Just want to get naked and fuck, don’t you?”
Still hard, still horny, so just stroking my dick slowly while I put the game on for ambience. I don’t know how Thursday’s gonna shake out but today I just went out and bought a basketball hoop for the driveway so I could burn off some of this energy. Felt fuckin’ great, too, goin’ out in the sun in just some shorts and Nikes working on my game. Soon as I was back indoors though, man, just stripped back down to my underwear – I can’t stop admiring this body. Gotta get another dude over here to mess around with. Fuck work, man, you only live once, right?
Think I’m gonna pick up a big screen for the bedroom because that’d be pretty cool, and I just found out gay dues have their own hockey leagues you can join so I’m thinking of that. How hot would that be – those dudes are fuckin’ built, man, and I could pick it up pretty quick I bet.
Fuck, let me know if – oh, fuck it, I’m gonna order a pizza and see if I can find a hot hookup for tonight. Some dude with pecs as thick as mine and who’s like me slapping this cock all over his tongue for a couple of hours while I tease the shit out of his hot jock ass. Yeah man. Fuckin’ hot, man, I could pump a full load into some dude’s muscle butt and be ready to score again two hours later. That’s how good I feel. Friends with benefits, whatever you want to call it as long as it’s none of that lovey-dovey or dramatic shit – I’ve got em on the phone. Sex, muscle, good food and workin’ out, so glad I met those lab rats.
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235 notes · View notes
icarusredwings · 23 days
Text
I rewatched Deadpool 2 and took notes.
Disclaimer: He's mentally ill and does mentally ill things (GASP, who would have thought?). Also, violence. A lot of violence. It's really long. Like.. really really long.
The very first words he says is "fuck wolverine"
Then blows his own head off with a shit ton of gasoline. Wonder if he had insurance on that appartment.
He started taking worldwide cases
He also admits to knowing "8th grade spanish"
"Passion of the christ. Then me." Says the man whos marvel jesus now.
I wonder how much wade owes cab guy.
Cab guy killed bandu Lmao
"What is it?"
"My IUD"
"A bomb??" Tell me why he was lowkey excited for it to be a bomb?
I love how serious he gets talking about how scared he is to be a dad.
This empire joke traveled from the first movie too.
"Pretty sure it doesn't work that way but we can try" yes.
When making toaster strudles its almost as if he could sense them coming despite it being so silent. This kind of makes me think that Logans not the only one who just jumps up sometimes.
This man really just said "Fuck it" jumped out of a 2 story window, BOLTED after this guy as fast as he could, got hit by a car, rammed another car, and whole ass hugged this guy before jumping in front of a truck with him. I don't want to see anyone try to tell me he's one sandwitch drop away from jumping off a cliff.
Cinatography by Blind Al.
Directed by one of those guys that killed john wicks dog.
God I love Ryan Reynolds because you know it was him.
Wade stop peeing your pants in public.
Weasel "We still have bowie..." Yeah id lie to him too at this point.
"Yeah im fine"
Fucked up
Insecure
Needy and
Emotional. Kübler ross apprently.
"Buck no more speaking lines for you" and he meant that shit.
Al is so humble and sweet. Making tea and giggling. Tries to shoot him and then just hears him collapse on the floor. How many times do you think he collapses on the floor a week? Just to be drimatic?
"Sweetheart can you speak up? Its a little hard to hear you with yhat pity dick in your mouth" Oh so shes his mom. Al is his fucking mom. Hands down. And the best one.
I love how he decided to do an entire bag of cocaine before dying. There was no reason for it and honestly was a waste of cocaine until you realize that these cocaine is wades whiskey. Shots dont work for him really, probably because hes already done it so much, but its the same way how Logan chugs that bottle before wade kidnaps him. Its easier to blame it on a substance then accept those were your actions.
Ness is so cute. The poster behind her has "I love you wade wilson" scratched into it. Its nice to know that his version of heaven is literally just a cozy Saturday morning with his wife.
Colossus just walking in to find wades body parts everywhere and put him in a bag like old dirty clothes lol
"Why cant I fucking die" tone was SO serious.
The fact that theres an x men rule book and its lowkey thicker then a bible. I bet you scott and Logan made 80% of those.
"That asshole was me" oh the tears. Baby boyy.
Wait isnt cable literally scotts son.
Im never going to understand this fucking time line jesus christ
Mutant rehabilitation?? What is he a drug addict? That kid is clearly in pain dipshits.
"X men trainee" is so funny
"Please stop cheating on me"
Daniel the pedophile looking ass
Bro casually signs ryan reynolds on the wolverine cereal box and then destroys his knee caps.
"Those guys hurt you??" It was at that moment, wade went ape shit.
Wade having fun in prison is so him. But come on imagine going to prison just for standing up to an abused child. Not to mention, His face when he immediately realizes how fucked he is and that "oh shit I actually DO have cancer now and it SUCKS"
Is it just me or does Cable reminds you of forge with all his cool fix it abilities. Or is he just futurey.
He didn't say were not friends to make him upset but to draw attention to himself. Him just eye rolling when stabbed in the hand was so funny too because he was like "Ouch. God damn it. Ducking OUCH."
Hes literally pleading with russel to find someone else to peotect him or hes gonna get molested because he cant do anything. His entire power is replacing dead cells WITH new cancer cells. His entire body is dying 24/7 but never fast enough to actually kill him, always regrowing way too quickly. Cancerous is better then dead.
"Get away from me kid" yeah cause he knows hes trouble and he REALLY doesn't wanna watch this kid die.
"Who the hell tries to kill a 14 year old boy"
"Kids give us a chance to be better then we used to be"
Dopinder is so wholesome. I love him so much. No i dont care that he killed a guy. Hes the type of friend you call to take to the movies or the zoo once every year and hes stoked just to be invited.
Peter: I just thought it looked fun :D
Dopinder: FUCK
Peter is that one dad whos kids left the nest and now he needs friends and a hobby so searches for the biggest weirdos he can find.
"Grab the boy- NOT INAPPROPRIATELY >:("
i love his crayon maps/plans
Oh my god weasel im not telling you anything ever again you snitch (same dude, cable is terrifying)
After crying over the love he has for his new team (x force) Wade confirms that he spent 10 years in special forces.
I love how supportive wade is with Peter despite him just being a normal dude only for him to immediately die LMAO
He just cassually lets his impulse win in which he steals a moped.
Oh i just noticed Dominos vitiligo. I always loved vitiligo charaters. Theyre so unique and barley ever given movie roles. Like why not?? Why wouldnt you want someone so beautiful? Im pretty sure she just has make up but it would be cool if not.
Something else is that cable just starts yeeting criminals out onto the street lol
"Theres nothing I cant kill" Let me intorduce you to the man whos on a constant road to dying but can never actually get there.
Im assuming cable wants to kill russel because he unleashes a big bad guy or something.
*cassually snaps neck back into place* Oh god that hurt!
Oh I was right! It was Juggernaut :)
Wade: *gets excited about being PHYSICALLY ripped in half*
"Rub my legs mama 🥺 I got growing pains"
"Oh noo! No no no Dp not again!" We love you Dopinder. Do not ever stop caring. "This shits happened before!?" Yes weasel. Sometimes your friends get ripped in half. Get used to it.
Wade just moves her gun to the right position.
Wade talking about saving russel is so serious that it makes you forget that he has a tiny baby ass rn. I couldn't make a deal with someone woth tiny baby legs... just... no. Not to mention that those baby legs are made of cancer.
"50 years from now you're super fucking dead"
Wade standing outside of the xmen mansion with his phone and a picture of a boom box playing music for Colossus to come outside and help him save russel is something i can see happening to Logan. They have a fight and he storms off to the mansion only for wade to stand outside like that.
"Hi Wade🎀✨️" "Hi Yukio!🥹 you guys make a super cute couple 😊 where was I? 🤨"
"So you wear a helmet so your brother cant read your mind?" "Yeaaahh" average kid conversations.
"Lets fuck some shit up is my legal middle name"
Okay sir edgelord.
Apprently wade has a gluten sensitivity
What is it with wade and metal men??? My man has a type.
"Im just gonna use this brick and maximum effort" Same wade. Same.
Yaayy!! Go yukio! Eveyone loves yukio.
"Thats how we do it in mother russia" What? Shoving an electrical cable up their ass and then put them in a pool? Damn. Ok.
That "I never should have never left you in that prison" with the hug? Man hed be a decent dad I think.
"Dont be ive been trying to make this happen for awhile" okay someone supervise him 24/7. Hes on the active watch list.
Wade: *is dying* Hi Yukio :D
Yukio: Hi wade :)
"R-dog" Oh my god hes too cute.
Them carrying the racist joke all the way til the end made me cringe but that was the point.
His last words being "do you wanna build a snow man?" Is such a deadpool thing.
I was NOT expecting to cry at the end of this stupid ass movie, AGAIN
"Dont fuck colossus" VANESSA KNEW
THE FUCKING COIN
"Is there a knife in my dick?" "There's a knife in your dick."
Oh I just didn't even notice she has heterochromancia! <3 Aahh!!
PFFT DOPINDERS SECOND CONFIRMED KILL
"WERE DEFINITELY NAMINF OUR KID CHER"
"Dont scratch!" *shoots himself 8 times* "Love you! Bye."
Wolverine: ???
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Text
I love all the headcanons of "Steve is not dumb he's..." Hard of hearing, has poor eyesight, learning disability or his primary language is not English. I particularly enjoyed @dwobbitfromtheshire 's recent headcanon that he's hiding it because his father hates feeling inferior and only Eddie realizes that he is not dumb. But I would like to throw my own hat in the ring.
Steve is not dumb. Actually, he's quite smart and did quite well in school (because his parents would not expect anything less). He just wasn't into nerd culture and everyone just placed their stereotypes and rumours of him being a pretty and privileged rich jock who bought his way out of school but couldn't buy his way into college. Nevermind that he was in the top 10 students of his year and for most of his classes if not topping them and if not he wasn't failing the rest other than one or two science/math-based (rumours say the school forged those marks so that Steve could continue sports) and had a 3.6 GPA. It wasn't enough to get into his Dad's alma mater so his dad dismissed any of the other schools he got accepted into.
He does not try to hide his intelligence from Nancy or the Party, but Nancy had bought into the "Steve is simple-minded " narrative and the like before they got together and failed to realize that they are both in the same AP classes that were full of seniors and in any group or partnered project he more-than-well pulled his weight and had his own insights. So she spreads the narrative to Mike who spreads it to the rest of the party so by the time the events that befan with Dustin asks him for help with his "dog" and developed into concussed in the back of a car while a preteen drove his car, the kids have also bought into parts of the narrative. It doesn't help that he really isn't into the stereotypical nerdy stuff
Even his best friend Robin believed the lie until she worked with him and then got tortured with him by Russians. She eventually realises that he's way smarter in a practical sense than people give him credit for (he did raise himself since he was 11 or so) but does not think of it as stretching into the academic side of his life. She has not stopped calling him "dingus" though.
Eddie on the other hand knows better, which is why when a specific exam was coming up he turned to Steve.
He barged into the Harrington home a day when tye entire party was their.
"Stevie, you either have to tutor me or lend me your notes for this class. I am not failing this class and increasing the possibility of another year at fucking Hawkins."
Mike and Dustin burst out laughing at that before Steve can answer.
"I know you're e bad at that subject, but I didn't realise you were desperate enough to use Steve's notes," Dustin says with that condescending tone that means it should be obvious to Eddie.
Mike snorts at that derisively, "If he even has notes."
"Maybe," Lucas said diplomatically, "there are better options than using Steve's notes?"
Nancy steps up next offering some of her notes and flashcards since she took the class last year/is taking the class, "It's not my strongest subject but if we do a study group I'm sure you won't fail the class."
Eddie stares at the group with growing bewilderment as they agree that Nancy is the best choice while implying that Steve was not. Actually, they were acting as though he was dumb for even asking Steve, which made no sense to him.
Eddie turned his eyes to Steve. His posture by the kitchen island was much more different than when Eddie burst in. He had subtly curled into himself as if to make himself smaller, shoulders tense and a resignation on his face as if he's been through this conversation so many times before.
It was almost as if...
"You guys think that Steve is dumb, don't you?"
There was the type of silence that only comes when the quiet part is said outloud.
"No we don't think Steve's dumb," Robin begins and Eddie can hear the 'but' before she even said it, "But you know he wasn't good at the school part of school."
She continued to ramble on from there but Eddie did not hear any of it. He was too busy reevaluating the group he was with and rechecking old memories and facts to see if there was any inkling of truth to this strange idea that even the older teens should know isn't true.
It took him a moment to find the answer, and when he did he could not stop the derisive laugh that burst out and interrupted Robin's ramble.
"You guys fucking bought into the rumours, didn't you? I expect that from the kids maybe even Johnathan, maybe even Robin because of you became friends after he left school, but not from you, Nancy."
Nancy had that look on her face that she got when she was ready to argue but Eddie steamrolled over it.
"Jesus H Christ! Weren't y'all together for a whole fucking year? How do you not know that he was at the top of his year when you were together? Unless you dismissed that in favour of believing the rumours that his parents paid for his grades and the school wanted to make sure he kept on playing sports?"
He paused for a second waiting for someone to contradict him, but the look on Nancy's face was one of scrambling to defend herself. He sighed at that; she still wasn't getting it and it a sweeping look at the others proved they were lost too.
"Even if they paid off the school he would not have been in the top ten of his year, he would be like Carver and Hagan whose parents paid and their grades were just good enough to get into a decent college without too many questions. And they would not have kept on giving him high grades after he stopped doing any kind of sport in his last 2 years at that dump. Hell if Hargrove wasn't such a fucking beast at sports he would have been told he would have to repeat his senior year with me."
"It's okay Eddie; leave it go." He turned a fake sunny smile with his eyes tightly shut towards Eddie as if to pacify him.
Eddie turned to Steve who had yet to say anything throughout Eddie's diatribe up until that moment. He just continued to robotically make dinner for the party as though nothing was wrong, as though the hurt dripping off him didn't matter.
"I'm not letting this go! They had classes with you, some of which I'm pretty fucking sure were AP classes. If I had the attendance needed I would have graduated last year because of you, Stevie. So excuse me if I'm a bit annoyed that our friends are so blinded by a rumour that they can't fucking see your Salutatorian medal. Hanging. Right. There!"
All eyes except Eddie and Steve's turned in the direction that Eddie pointed at.
And there on the wall, was a framed silver medal with the word "Salutatorian" emblazoned on it. The party immediately burst into chaos amongst each other.
"Now, pretty boy, are you gonna tutor me or what?"
Or it goes something like that, I'm not sure.
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frogzzai · 1 year
Note
Upper moon anon back lol, and this time let's go spicier~ (and add Muzan if you'd like, up to you!) Kissing, but downstairs 😉 (I loved the last post btw! 🥰)
Welcome back hun 🫶 Sorry it took me so long to get to this request, I kept forgetting :').
Time for spice ig 😍
Send in requests I have no motivation :'( (I write for MHA, Creepypasta, Slashers, Demon Slayer, JJK, Harry Potter, Rick and Morty, Fantastic Beasts, Winx)
Characters included: Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza, Hantengu, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, Aizetsu, Gyokko, Gyutaro, Muzan
Warning: NSFW
Reader is AFAB but no pronouns mentioned.
Uppermoon 1- Kokushibo
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Let's just be honest with ourselves, this man's a pussy eating GOD.
Not only did he used to have a wife, mf has 6 eyes. He definitely notices what your body reacts to more.
We all know he's pretty skilled, I'm not talking just about combat.
Could eat you out for AGES. He'll go to the point you have to try and drag him away by his hair while babbling incoherently.
It doesn't matter whether you're demon or human, your taste intoxicates him.
Overstimulation is 100% his specialty. Like I said earlier, he doesn't know when to stop. Do you really want him to stop though?
He'll use both his fingers and tongue, wants you to feel as best as possible.
Sit on his face. Please. He'd quite happily suffocate underneath you, if he could die like that he would.
Not a teaser, just wants as many orgasms out of you as possible.
Definitely the type to leave little lingering butterfly kisses all over your clit, he's a body worshipper.
Uppermoon 2- Douma
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Loves to tease you.
Enjoys making you get off on his tongue by yourself, no guidance from him.
Occasionally he'll take the reins and overstimulate you till you can't remember your own name, only his.
He doesn't like giving you want you want (pleasure-wise), so he'll make you beg for it.
He doesn't care if his followers hear it, let them think what they want. He won't let them see though, no one else can see you like that. If anybody bothers you about it, well, they won't be around to bother you much longer.
Douma enjoys hearing you whine while edging you but also loves hearing you uncontrollably sob from overstimulation so he'd probably do a bit of both.
Will 100% leave bite marks on your thighs.
Will also playfully bite at your clit but not too hard, just enough to draw blood.
Uppermoon 3- Akaza
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Similarly to Kokushibo, this man is a body worshipper.
Would stay in between your legs forever if you'd let him.
Please whimper his name and praise him, it'll make him happy.
Not a fan of teasing, wants to give you as much pleasure as (humanly?) possible.
This man cannot get enough.
Grips your thighs to make you stay in place... do with that what you will
Another fan of face sitting because it gives him better access.
Please suffocate him, unless you're hiding a nichirine sword up your pussy it won't kill him. Even if you somehow were I don't think he'd mind.
He'd definitely just show up out of no where and try to eat you out. It's almost like he teleports he's so quiet.
Will squeeze as many orgasms out of you as he possibly can.
Will incorporate his fingers somehow.
Hantengu
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Wouldn't. Just wouldn't.
How'd you even get within 2 feet of him without him spontaneously combusting on the spot, let alone get in a relationship with him.
He is literally fear. I mean, it says it on his tongue...
He is going no where near there.
He can barely make eye contact with you!
He just can't.
Sekido
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Aggressive pussy eater.
No mercy, literally won't let you go till you either squirt multiple times onto his tongue or you pass out from the overwhelming overstimulation.
I mean, sort of obvious isn't it?
Will sometimes add toys if he's feeling extra mean (that's pretty common).
I feel like the marking on his tongue (along with the other clones) would have a slightly different texture than the rest of it so it'd add to the whole experience if yk what I mean...
Bites. Take that however you wish.
Will hold your thighs apart so harshly you'll have bruises the size of his fingers appearing on you in the next hour.
Urogi
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I feel like he can give out vibrations from his mouth. Just saying..
Will leave scratches down your thighs, I mean, look at his talons. Hands? Claws? Talons.
Surprisingly skilled with his tongue.
This man definitely loves hair pulling. Fight me.
Just grab a handful of his luscious locks and you've got him almost cumming in his pants.
He's vocal, he's moaning and grunting at the taste of you, 'course you can barely hear him over your own sounds though.
I feel like he'd trace patterns gently over your clit with his tongue if he felt like teasing you.
Will spell his own name if he does this.
He'll eat you out whilst in the air at least once, either that or he'll fly to high places to do it.
I guess you've technically joined the mile high club? I know he's not a plane but.. it sort of counts.
Karaku
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He is literally pleasure.
There's no saying whether he has experience or not, but, does it really matter? He makes you go dumb on his tongue every time so are you going to complain either way? No.
Another one that's into hair pulling, he has long hair, why not put it to use?
Out of all the brothers he's the most skilled.
He doesn't have a favourite position or speed, he just takes note of what you seem to prefer at that giving time and goes by that.
He has his massive leaf thing on handy to throw people halfway across the city if they walk in.
Is in to face sitting.
He's one of those that likes to make you chase your own pleasure on his tongue but will take control halfway.
Uses toys. Do with that what you will.
Aizetsu
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He prefers slow and sensual to fast and rough.
He gets sad if he feels like he went too rough, he feels like he's hurt you no matter how much you reassure him that it didn't hurt and you actually liked it. Overtime he'll grow more confident in being rough, just give him a chance.
He holds your thighs but gently, he's a thigh man.
He leaves soft little love bites up them.
Leaves fleeting kisses on your clit.
Subconsciously runs his hands from your waist down to your thigs and then up again while eating you out.
Don't mention it, he'll get embarrassed..
His brothers prefer tongue-fucking, he prefers softer clit sucking.
He quite likes fact sitting so you can't see him flushed red.
Gyokko
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How?
He barely has a body, he's built like a genie if you ignore the face.
Back to the face... It would be difficult, it'd get in his eye, look at the placement. He doesn't even have eyelids.
I think he'd use his many little hands.
If he went into his final form then it might be easier but still, the eye placement.
I don't really see it working.
Gyutaro
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No experience.
Obviously.
You'll have to teach him, but it's ok, we all know he's a quick learner.
He'll use his fingers with it because he's nervous his mouth isn't doing enough.
Trust me, it is.
Another biter, thighs, clit, anywhere he can get to.
Not into hair pulling that much, prefers it when you gentle stroke his hair.
Please praise him, he needs to know if he's doing ok.
Mutters sweet nothings into your clit, you're one of the most beautiful beings he has ever set eyes on, after Daki of course.
Muzan
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He's somewhat of a gentleman. Occasionally.
Either slow and sensual like Aizestu or fast and rough like Sekido. No in-between.
Not into face sitting, it makes him feel vulnerable.
In his final form however, sit on his thigh whilst one of his mouths eats you out.
He's skilled. He's had past partners so he knows what he's doing.
You're the only one he does it with some sort of meaning behind it.
Very skilled with his hands to, just going to leave that there.
Female Muzan is better, but they're almost on par.
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dilutedconfusion · 2 months
Note
I love the way you write! I love Kid! I need Kid!! 😩
Anyway, happy to rewad whatever you write, but if this request inspires you, by all means, I would LOVE to read it.
I'm thinking about some protective, possessive stuff! Reader gets kidnapped and subdued. Or gets beaten, life hanging by a thread.
And Kid just goes ape shit. NSFW obviously because Kid is going to rip some troaths and all that protectiveness makes reader a little crazy.
Does this tickle your fancy? Writer's choice on everything, really. I would just love a crazy protective Kid.
Kudos for all your work and thank you for sharing your talent! 👏🏻❤️
I’M SO DEEPLY SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK ME. I don’t know how long this request was sitting in my inbox but I APOLOGIZE and I hope this fic makes up for it 🧎‍♀️
OKAY besides that you didn’t have to be that nice 🫵 Like seriously making me blush and stuff you’re so sweet ilysm🤭 And since I literally cannot control myself I went a little overboard. I wasn’t planning on writing so much and I wasn’t planning on making it so intense I suppose. But you asked for possessive, life hanging by a thread, kidnapped scenario so here you go! I should’ve made it more NSFW in the more sexual way less gore way. But alas this request is more horror and fluff than anything. Oh and I also made the pronouns gender neutral because you didn’t specify so I hope that’s okay with you! I need to write more gender neutral readers anyways so it was a good excuse. I hope you enjoy it!
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Shades of Red
Eustass Kid x GenderNeutral!Reader
Summary: You got kidnapped by bounty hunters. Suffice to say you and Kid aren’t taking it very well. Kid goes a little crazy and does some particular bloody things. It has a good ending though so no worries👍
Horror?? And Fluff I suppose.
Warnings: LOTS of explicit gore and blood.
Word Count: 8.1k
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Water was thicker than blood.
Well, you had always known that. From your first cut as a child that was an otherworldly sting. It had felt so foreign from your previous non-existence. Pain was juvenile to you. Something to be feared in its unknowing nature. Something that would stain clothes. Stain water.
There was specific soft vignette of red reminded you of the way light looked behind your eyelids. Warm with light yellow tones around the edges. The tingle of your smooth skin left you to almost sparkle. A man adorned in all shades of red as if it was the only color that fit him.
As if it was the only color you ever wanted to look at. A color you desperately tried to view positively despite what was happening. Despite the splatters around you.
You hadn’t felt the sun in a while. Skin growing paler and colder with each passing night. The sun was a mere sixty feet above you since the earth swallowed you whole. An insistent dripping against your scalp made you want to snap your jaw in half. Digging into your skull to rip out the part of you that could still feel.
A puddle of water lay at your feet. The water from the unstable ceiling would constantly drip downwards. Drifting onto the chains that held up your arms to keep you on your knees. Swirling down your bruised wrists and dripping from your elbows. Going down your spine with a consistent cold shiver running through you. Your eyelashes dripped like crystals as your head hung low. Watching the water drip off your chin or the tip of your nose.
The puddle of water beneath you was stained red. Letting you watch as your blood swirled in its mirror-like gaze. Face to face with yourself until another drop landed and ripples formed.
The same sight over and over again. The same pain over and over again for what felt like weeks.
But you knew it hadn’t been that long despite how the hours crawled forwards. It took a lot of work being captured but at least the water kept you clean.
Your kidnappers wouldn’t want their little plaything any other way.
There was no enjoyment in watching you bleed if you were already bloody. They liked to start a fresh slate to give the blood some contrast.
Nothing has been explained to you. Not a single peep of why you were here, what they were trying to achieve, and why they decided to keep you alive. Any person who walked through the iron door in front of you stayed close to silent. Only opening their mouths to give orders or berate you. Those orders were always just to eat your food under the watchful eye of a guard. To get up and follow them to the bathroom during scheduled times. Not another beaten to near-death person in sight. It seemed like it was just you and them down here surprisingly. Either that or they wanted to make it seem that way. There wasn’t even a request made or some form of labor being put onto you.
You always listened because frankly, you had no other choice. These chains were tight and you were always guarded. As strong as you were, you were still weak. And as smart as you were, you had made the horrible decision to venture off on your own.
Some stupid fucking idea Kid would’ve called it. You could hear his yelling and screaming over you now. Pacing the tiny cell and telling you how much of an idiot you had been. How he had ordered you to stay with your assigned group on this last mission. That he expected more from you and he’d never seen you act this stupid. How he would leave you behind next time because he didn’t want to deal with your shit anymore.
Yet he cried the first time you got badly injured. Held you like a baby and took you to the infirmary just to scream and break an innocent chair. You never took his fits seriously because underneath it all you could feel guilt coming off him in waves. You could see the fear fermenting in a supposedly fearless man's eyes.
You supposed that keeping you captive, keeping you docile enough to not try anything, was a way to lure Kid into some kind of trap. He was a man with a high bounty and a lot to lose. And they must’ve guessed his lover was something worth fighting for.
But it had been too long and your throat grew tired of screaming and cussing out the world. They had you locked up tight, underground, on an island you traveled to by boat with your head stuck in a sack the whole ride there. Every box was checked off when it came to the perfect kidnapping. Nobody had even seen it happen so they had to have left some sort of cryptic note for the crew to find.
Or at least you hoped so.
There was a slim chance that they had no idea what happened to you. That this place was just a pit stop until you got sold to the Celestial Dragons. Or maybe until they worked out a deal with the navy for your head.
You desperately pleaded and hoped that these people were greedy. That whatever amount of money the dragons would pay or the small sum of your bounty wasn’t enough for them. They wanted Kid and all his other higher-ranking members so at least they would know where you are. They would be coming after you.
Yet thinking like that kept you in a whirlwind of guilt.
I fucked up. I deserve to die here. They shouldn’t…no…they can’t get involved in this. Their dreams are too important to get caught right now. Right when we were so close.
At some point your pain, your suffering, and self-loathing almost became…comical.
The mirth of it came out in crazed laughter. Looking down at yourself in the puddle's reflection as your laughing permanently bounced around the stone walls. A big smile on your face yet your eyes were screaming. Leaving an ominous, nearly insane echo to be heard throughout the facility.
The room was small and enclosed around you. Your eyes were dizzy as the world spun. Before the weight of reality struck you again, bringing you down from your manic high. Heart beating in your ears as you gasped for air, tears streaming into the bloody puddle once again.
Pain wasn’t juvenile to you anymore. But the more you lost yourself, the more you started to wish it were.
—————
This pain was juvenile. New and fresh despite being torn from an old wound. As if someone had dug into Kid's brain just to remind him of exactly how it felt to lose. Exactly how it felt to be hopeless once again.
He thought he would’ve known what to do, how to handle this. And for the most part, he did.
But in the empty cold spaces when no one was around. Whether that was the bathroom, his room, or the silent deck in the night, he broke.
There was no more sucking it up, no more biting his lips, no more anxious scratching of his skin or grinding of his teeth that could save him from the way he felt.
It should’ve been me.
Oh, how he wished he was angry and dare say he was. When Dive had informed him that you weren’t with her. That during a raid in your small group off in the safer corner of the fight, away from him you, had disappeared.
Just poof into thin air without informing anyone of where you went.
He had lost it.
That village burned that night. Warm fires in every inch, every crevice, and every person mauled. Each one of them did not know what happened. Not a boat spotted leaving the island. Not a single trace of where you had gone.
That anger hasn’t stopped. It’s still just as potent, just as ferocious and terrifying. More blood-curdling and scream-inducing than hell itself. Kid had felt more people's bodies go cold in his grip in the last few days than he had most of his life.
He wanted to feel it. He wasn’t killing for convenience so an annoying crowd surrounding him would break. He wanted to hurt people, to kill the right person as brutally as he could in case they had any chance of being involved with your disappearance. He took down that village of thugs, burned and quartered every man on a passing ship, and started bouncing to all the nearby islands looking to do just the same.
But so far he’d come up empty. Not a sign, not a note, not a welcomed reunion between the two of you. He’d walk into a building or down into the deeper levels of a ship screaming your name. Eyes blurring to find no one but the dead. All that hope in him snuffed out to embers. His crew watching little parts of him die.
So amid silence, when the pain that he should’ve been handling, that he should be familiar with resurfaced, he cried. He’d kneel over on the floor or press himself against a banister to weep. That low rugged voice gasping for air as he struggled not to choke. Wiping his eyes, his hands reaching out and grasping at the air for childlike comforts. The remembrance of your soft skin dancing along his fingers. Your soothing voice told him that it was going to be okay. He could nearly see you in front of him. Those eyes of yours filled with so much love for a fool like him. His chest hurt so bad he could feel bile building up in his throat. Swallowing it down through wet sniffles and snot-covered lips.
He was a mess. If he didn’t find you soon…he didn’t know what he would do. He wondered if you left on purpose. That you didn’t love him anymore and left without saying anything. Without taking any of your belongings because you were so utterly desperate to get away.
Finding his touch disgusting, his love suffocating, and his personality exhausting.
He wouldn’t have blamed you if that was the truth. It took a lot to love someone like him which is why it's never happened before. At least not in a romantic way.
He never told anyone that he thought this. Because he knew that they would all brush it aside. Saying that you would never leave him and you were far too in love with him to do something like that. But the idea dug in like a lobotomy through his eye. It was piercing him until he tore apart into someone he wasn’t. His face just shards in a broken mirror.
He needed to know what had happened even if you did leave on purpose. Because on the chance that you didn’t, that someone had hurt you, then there was a price to pay in blood.
And Kid intended to squeeze out every last drop of it.
—————
It had been a normal day underground.
The newspaper was in his hand as he slumped slightly in his chair. The hallway is just as cold as ever. The watch on his wrist ticked and the camera's persistent red light monitored the area.
He knew he couldn’t doze off. After the captives' recent round of hysterical laughter, he knew they were on edge. Of course, he had solved the problem as was ordered. Bringing earplugs just in case the laughing kept going on but the brass knuckles seemed to do the trick. But of course, he and the other men had made a bit of a mess. The whole room smelled of copper from the blood and could nearly smell it oozing out of the cracks of the door.
It was as if it was still painting his skin with that lovely shade of red. Darkened and dried into the cracks of his hands as he washed it off. Now leaving him without a trace, hoping to chase that high again despite this person being ‘precious cargo’.
Though you couldn’t have been that precious considering they were pawning you off to the navy. They usually wanted all bounties dead or alive. But this was a special case where the navy wanted you alive for questioning. And that no matter how much his boss wanted to, they couldn’t question the captive under certain terms. They were bounty hunters, not pirates, so any shred of information about this big-shot Eustass Kid was like gold to them.
I don’t know why we’re not interrogating them anyway. They already look like they're losing a couple of screws, might as well dig deeper and see what pops up. It's not like the navy will figure it out.
He let out a little grunt of anger, flipping to the next page with a grimace. His boss was a careful man with very specific plans. Finding this little victim perfectly alone and ripe for the taking was a strike of luck. But because his boss was always prepared for an opportunity, they snatched you up while on the run off an island. Taking to sea as a raid ensued and followed suit to their hideout so hidden not even the town uptop knew about it.
They had done this before and they would do it again. There were even a few other inmates locked up in different sectors. They were never allowed to see each other just in case they tried some kind of revolution. So they all roamed the halls and went to the bathrooms at different times. It was the perfect kidnapping scheme. Letting them slowly rake in the big money without putting themselves in danger.
He heard a rattling of chains from inside the room. Starting slow but slowly getting a bit louder. A light rumbling came from it as the unstable ceiling pinned with metal to hold up the chains groaned.
He slapped down his newspaper in his lap, turning his head towards the door with a yell. “Shut the fuck up in there! You need something, you're going to have to wait for it!”
He turned back to his newspaper letting out a little groan as the rattling stopped. Not a single word came through the door so clearly it was for nothing.
Goddamn, I swear they just do this shit to mess with me.
He shifted a bit in his seat to get more comfortable. Smacking his lips as he eased down. Taking a quick look at his watch to check how long it was until they were given another scheduled bathroom break.
An hour? I swear if this motherfucker pisses themselves again I’m going to hose them down till they bleed.
Another grumble of annoyance rose in his throat. Rolling his eyes a bit as he scratched at the back of his head. Suddenly he heard the same stupid chain rattling. This time much louder and quicker as it scraped and groaned at the ceiling. Cracking his jaw before slamming down his newspaper on the floor and getting up. Opening the small slot just at eye level to look inside.
“I swear to fucking god if you don’t quit that shit right now say goodbye to food for a while you piece of shit!” He watched you with a burning in his eyes. Your face tilted downwards towards the floor like always. Unresponsive and half-dead looking from all the wetness crawling over you. Like some sort of bog demon rattling at the chains and tugging on them incessantly.
He slammed on the door trying to gain your attention. The loud metal banging didn’t make you flinch in the slightest. “Hey! Do you hear me right now you crazy bitch? If you don’t stop I’m coming in there and you know what that means.” He nearly growled, his voice presently hungry for another beating session.
You didn’t stop, if anything you made it worse. Flinging your weak body a bit as you gripped onto the chains. Putting your weight into it so the metal slammed against itself. The stone ceiling crumbling a bit as a rumbling ensued.
“God fucking damn it!” He screamed, his slightly sweaty hands gripping the key on his belt. Ripping it off him, he undid the latch and pushed the door open. His feet walked over blood stains and wet puddles as he latched the keys back on. Cracking his knuckles as he hovered over you. “Is this what you want?! Wanna feel my fucking hands beat into you?!” He quickly grabbed you by the hair tugging your face up to look at him. Your face vacant and almost lifeless.
You finally stopped rattling the chains and pulling at them. Hands falling limping and racking against the cuffs. He held his fist in the air ready to punch you. Looking forward to that sweet silence he oh so craved. But for some reason, the rumbling didn’t stop.
Your chains had already stilled. The ceiling still shaking slightly and sprinkling dust. A crescendo of rumbling shooting across the floor and up into his bones.
He looked up and around the room. Still holding onto your hair tightly as he tried to figure out what was going on.
Is that an earthquake?
But the rumbling got louder. Nearly chattering in his skull. His grip loosed slowly, letting you set your head down but you didn’t. You stayed looking up at him. Sweat was building in his palms when suddenly the lights went out all at once. Sharp static flickers and fuses snapping in time.
But then rumbling stopped. Filling the room with a dark silence so thick he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Grabbing onto his flashlight at his side he felt this horrible feeling of anxiety growing in his gut.
I’m fine. Everything’s fine. We’re prepared for an earthquake and this power outage is probably just part of it.
His thumb traced over the button to turn on his flashlight. But through the open door, he heard it. His body freezing in place as if he was frozen in ice.
It was screaming. Not just a light yell of panic or someone barking orders. It was true blood gurgling screaming coming from somewhere in the facility. Echoing off the stone walls as he slowly turned his head around. Pointing his flashlight at the cell entrance before flicking on the light.
It quickly filled up the space with a warm circle of light. But instead of the light shining onto stones in the hallway, it hit something else.
A wall of blood in the shape of a man.
Bright and rich in color it reflected into the guard's eyes. It was visibly dripping and he could nearly feel the heat coming off of it. Not a spec of skin or clothing was visible from how thickly it managed to glob onto his wide demeaning chest.
The guard blinked as if caught in a dream. His mouth moved to say something but it was far too dry. As if all the life had been sucked out of him at that very moment.
He saw some sort of metal arm on the monsters left-hand side. His eyes carefully tracing down it in the dark to spot the shiny glimmers of blood of what looked like a human spine in its grasp, half of it trailing off onto the floor. The bones cracked loudly under his grasp, making the guard flinch backward, almost stumbling into you behind him.
The man sucked in a gasp of air. Tears filled his eyes at the horrid monster in front of him. Tilting the flashlight upwards until it reached the monsters face.
If he knew any better, he would’ve never done that.
His face was equally covered in blood. Slightly smeared around so bits of his pale skin shot through. His shiny scars and pinned-up goggles on his head gleamed light back at him. Damp hair from all the blood lying down onto his skin.
But the worst part was his eyes.
That burned into the guard's mind. So horrid. So piercing he felt his breathing stall. Almost choking on nothing as he felt himself passing out. The darkness around him turned darker but the monster wouldn’t allow that.
The monsters body bounded forward. His metal hand letting go of the spine as he dropped it with a wet thud on the floor. The wall of blood came closer with each loud thundering footstep. He grabbed the guard by the head, fitting his entire skull into his metal fist. Picking him up off the floor easily and clamping down around his skull. Feeling it splinter and almost cave under the pressure. The guards screams were muffled as he clawed at the metal arm. Kicking his feet in the air and almost hitting you in the process.
The monster turned towards the door once again, away from you before the final snap ensued. A loud deafening crack and then nothing but the sounds of warm blood sputtering on the floor. The man's flashlight fell to the ground. Rolling across the stone to cast an eerie light across you.
The room stayed silent for a while before he dropped the man's body to the floor carelessly. Blinking tirelessly to spot the monsters shadow in the dark with tear filled eyes.
“K-Kid?” you murmured. Your voice was so rasp and weak he could barely hear it. Turning around to face something he could hardly stomach to see.
His eyes traced over you like he almost didn’t think you were real. Soaked from head to toe in water, you kneeled in front of him in a pool of blood. Dark deep bruises on every visible limb. You’re lip cut and swollen as it wobbled from the tears. Tears coming out of a very prominent black eye with red lacerations all around your face. Your clothing torn and in shambles, as they stuck uncomfortably tight to your wet skin.
Kid had seen the inside of many men but the sight of you nearly broke him apart.
Your disheveled features and colorless lifeless skin made his breathing hitch. Tears instantly flooded his eyes just to drip down his face. Mixing in with the blood now drying on his skin. His heart tore in two as he nearly fell into you. His large knees hit the hard ground and splashed up the puddle of blood. Wrapping you in a warm gooey hug he gripped his hand into your hair, shoving his head into the crook of your neck.
“I’m s-sorry…I’m so sorry…I’ll never let this happen again.” He croaked out into your ear between sniffles. Your hands were still bound so you couldn’t grip him. Just tugging at the chains helplessly as you let out a wry whimper of pain.
“K-Kid…” you mumbled, the crying getting even worse, “I thought I was dead…I-I missed you so fucking much. I’m so sorry I fucked up…I..” You trailed off into a whimper. Words escaping you as reality became as sharp as a knife, yet comforting as his touch.
Hearing your voice caused him to let out a weak gasp of pain. Trying to be gentle as he gripped his flesh arm around you a bit tighter. His metal one at your side, both arms desperately trying to not put pressure on your wounds. With a little flash of purple lightning escaping his hand and tingling the back of your head, your chains came off. Bruised weak wrists getting an instant relief as your arms swung down to land weakly onto his shoulders. The blood rushed back into them as you gripped him tightly, pressing your chest flush against his despite all the blood.
Without a word, he tucked his metal arm under your legs. Scooping you up easily, he kept your face pressed against his chest. Walking out into the hallway as his feet dodged the guard's body and left over spine.
“I want you to keep your eyes closed okay baby? Just stay up against my chest until we get out of here.” He mumbled to you softly. Listening to your staggered breathing as you cried on him.
You barely even heard him. Just shoving your face further upwards until you reached the crook of his neck. Closing your eyes as you tried to take deep breaths. Fingers nearly clawing into his sticky blood-stained back as if he was going to disappear.
Kid traced his bloodied footsteps back from where he came from. Finding a few splattered bodies along the way. The worst of it was at the entrance. Clasping onto the back of your head a bit tighter he dug his hand into your hair. Glancing weakly over at the piles of dead bodies still warm and oozing onto the floor.
Every single person in this underground facility was completely slaughtered and he made sure of it. The rest of the inmates the crew found in separate cells set free. Running out into the night with a smile and urgency like never before.
Honestly, he didn’t even realize he had gone so far until it was over. Having slashed every single person that came his way into loose mangles. Usually, he’d move on to the next person when a deathly slash was inflicted on them. But he couldn’t stop, rumbling the whole underground facility as he tore into stone and bone. Effectively splattering his entire body with a thick layer of blood.
A part of him still hadn’t calmed down since then. His eyes were still jumpy as he used his haki to check his surroundings. There was no relief for him until you were home, safe, and healing. No amount of blood could quell how his heart clenched for you.
His crew, who was guarding the entrance for any extra visitors, saw you curled in his arms. Some opened their mouths to say something but Kids eyes stopped them. Your sniffles turned to silence as you stilled against his chest. There would be no grand reunion until you were home. Exhaustion covered you like a blanket as he walked you out into the warm air of freedom.
—————
It was an aching feeling. First at the crux of your back on something far too stiff then into a plush embrace. Your head lulls backward into something to catch you. Tight itchy fabric fumbling you awake. Peeling your slightly crusted-over eyes open and expecting to see that same blinding light from before. To hear only the muffled voices of those around you as you barely stayed lucid. But the world had cleared and surprisingly you weren’t somewhere sterile, you were somewhere warm.
The rafters of the wood above you creaked as the boat shifted on the sea. The room was dark and drafty as a window nearby blew in sweet cold air. That familiar scent of the briny seaweed lapping at your nose. You tried to sit up and immediately were met with a warm hand across your chest, pushing you back down.
“Quit moving.” With a turn of your head against the pillow you saw Kid lying mostly naked on his stomach beside you. His hair was loose and hung a bit over his eyes and the back of his neck. Soft and relaxed and not spiked like most people saw it. One side of his pale face squished against the maroon pillow. Blinking at you tiredly in the low light of the dark.
“Shouldn’t I be…in the infirmary?” You mumbled, softly touching his hand now laying on your chest. Feeling along his fingertips and the deep scars on his skin.
He immediately grimaced at that, letting out a gruff groan as he sat up slightly to roll onto his side. Now facing you more directly but keeping his hand softly over your chest as if to feel your heartbeat. “I’m the Captain and I’ll put you where I want you. You didn’t need to stay there anyway. The worst is over and I’m watching over you. Like that doctor could ever take care of you like I can…”
He rolled his eyes, knowing damn well no one knew you like he did. He may not have the medical experience but he was going to take care of you, it's the least he could do. You watched him silently for a moment, chewing your otherwise slightly split lip tenderly. Your other free hand feeling at the bandages around your hips. The doctor seemingly left you only a roll or two away from being a mummy.
“I don’t…I don’t remember what happened.” You said a bit hesitantly. Everything after him saving you felt like a fever dream. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t. Kid could see the uncertainty written deep into your brow. Taking his hand and running it up to swipe his thumb over your cheek.
“I brought you home and patched you up. You mumbled and cried the whole time in the infirmary. Clinging onto me and whimpering like a dog through all the stitches,” he said with a slight huff of a laugh before mellowing back down into something solemn, “but you’re okay. Nothing severe.”
A little part of you eased into that knowledge. His hand against your cheek feeling like perfection.
I’m okay. You repeated in your head. Your eyes fluttering slightly as they became more foggy with tears. Wet crystal like droplets in the corners of your eyes.
Kid saw this and slightly panicked. Not wanting you to cry anymore, your eyes still puffy from all the tears you had already shed. He slipped his hand off your face and started to sit up. His big body making the bed shake a little as he started to stand up.
“I can go grab you some food. They put you on a IV from all the blood loss so you must be feeling shitty.” He mumbled, the cadence of his words a bit hitched and frantic. You quickly reached out and grabbed his arm, tugging on it slightly to bring him back down.
“No…no it's okay. Maybe in a bit but…” you paused, his head turned back towards you as he watched the tears well up even more, “Kid I-”
“You don’t have to say anything.”
He had cut you off. Leaving you to nearly let out a whimper of pain. You’re chest swimming with guilt as he lets you ease him back into bed. Sitting up and looking down at you with his legs crossed.
His face was starkly stiff as he watched you. Those golden globes of his muddy with feelings yet you barely even noticed. Having trouble looking right at him as you stared down at the bed. “But I fucked up. I mean I badly fucked up. I put all of you at risk and I acted so selfishly thinking I could go out on my own-”
“Baby it's fine.” You let out a shaky huff of air when he cut you off again. Not feeling at all comforted despite his version of ‘fine’. With your face becoming a mess of lines and reddened cheeks he could see you were hanging off the edge. And no matter how much he wanted to drag you off of it, no matter how much he didn’t want to see you cry, he let you talk. Your voice coming out in barely composed gasps.
“But it's not though. I just…I want you to know I’ll never do that again. I won’t go against your plans. I won’t be overly confident in the face of battle. I got myself in that mess and I can’t imagine how hard it was to try and pry me out. All that time wasted…” At this point, a tear had already slipped down your cheek. The side of your face pressed deeply into the pillow as if you were trying to burrow your way out of this. Not looking at him once. Just curling yourself up into a ball of shame in front of him.
He hated every second of it.
“Wasted? It wasn’t a waste because I wanted to do it. I needed to do it. Every person I killed and every single moment spent towards finding you instead of going after my goals was worth it. I’ll set aside days, months, years-shit my whole fucking life to find you. So stop that.” He paused, looking around the room for a moment to gather his thoughts. Your whimpers had gone a bit quiet. Looking up at him almost a bit anxiously from his annoyed tone. Not feeling any better despite how passionate he was about saving you.
You still were curled in a ball with tears in your eyes and he wanted anything but that. So taking another deep shaky breath he continued in a softer tone. “You can do whatever you want during a battle and we all know my plans aren’t foolproof. If I didn’t listen to you, if this whole crew didn’t listen to you on occasion, this boat would be 100 feet under. You didn’t put us at risk, we’re always at risk.” His voice was stern but sincere. Looking down at your gorgeous face despite the tears just hoping and wishing you understood how he felt.
“Quit making it sound like you did something wrong…” He grumbled, scratching the back of his head lightly.
You didn’t say anything right away. Letting his words stew and ferment in your mind. They eased down into something more manageable. The silence between you is a bit uncomfortable but necessary. Kid eyeing you with a worried expression as you slowly composed yourself. Using the back of your hand to wipe your tears as you sniffled lightly. Unfurling yourself a bit and un-shoving half your face out of the pillow.
“Did they leave a note or did you just find me?” You murmured out, voice weak but more steady. Kid didn’t expect that to be your first question, he wanted to hear you forgive yourself but he supposed seeing you calmer was enough. His fingers fiddlingwith the legs of his boxers a bit to distract himself from how nervous he felt.
“There was nothing. I went to all the surrounding islands before I landed on the one you were at. The ‘boss’ of that so-called operation was planning to give your head to the navy. Spineless slimy fucking bastard should’ve never touched you. Shoulda never left you out there.” He didn’t look at you much as he spoke. Chewing on his words a bit and thinking it over. He could still see that boss in front of him. Spine ripped out clean as he lay there on the floor. His little spineless joke had made a few crew members laugh, but he held himself back from trying it on you. It wasn’t the time.
“Kid, you were busy fighting the big shots. That’s how it always works. I’m the idiot who got swept up when no one was watching.” Your voice came out more pleading. Not expecting Kid to be talking bad about himself for what happened. To you, it seemed like it was completely your fault, but clearly, Kid thought differently.
“First off, you're not an idiot. Smartest damn person I know.” He exclaimed, pointing his finger at you. His eyes meeting yours in a much more serious tone. “Secondly, I’m keeping you closer from now on and we're making you a vivire card. I don’t know why I haven’t until now. What a fucking idiot move that was.”
You watched as he swept back his hair again. The very soft-looking curls of his hair becoming more fluffy as they sat in a cute-looking wave on his head. You eyed him a bit, eyes narrowing as you regarded yet another way he was putting himself down. “Well if I can’t call myself an idiot then you can’t either. So stop that. You…thought you were enough to protect me. To keep me by your side at all times. That’s not an idiot move because you do protect me. You always have.” You tried to say that with so much certainty that Kid could feel it. But of course, he still seemed a bit pissed. Looking away from you again and back down at his lap.
“Well, aren’t you being too kind to a guy who let you down…” You frowned at that. Knowing for a fact Kid wasn’t the kind of guy who liked talking about his feelings you didn’t decide to dig deeper. But you still wanted to know what happened. Why Kid seems so bummed despite you being safe.
“You…you were covered in blood when I saw you down there. What…happened?” You asked quietly, picking together parts of your memory to try to make sense of it.
He hesitated. Swallowing thickly before giving you the only answer that wouldn’t make him out to be so…horrible. “I did my job.” It was a good enough answer. He could see by the way your eyes squinted it wasn’t quite what you wanted but you didn’t say anything more. “And don’t worry. The crew hosed me down before I got on the ship. Didn’t want to stain the tub. I knew you woulda clawed my eyes out if I did. But I washed us nice and clean. Under your nails and behind your ears and everything. You just conked out on my chest…which was rather cute by the way.”
The idea of you asleep against his chest as he washed you made your heart skip. Feeling a small smile quirk at your lips imagining him taking care of you so well. “I…I missed bath time? Dang it. I can never convince you to take a bath with me usually.”
“Well, you can put me in another one of those death traps soon if you want to.” Kid let out a sigh, feigning annoyance but smiling down at you regardless.
“Good because I was going to guilt you into it again anyway.” You quipped, your smile becoming more mischievous as you gripped onto the blanket near you and hid part of your blushing face.
Kid couldn’t help but laugh at that a little. Eyes narrowing as he watched you, his voice coming far out more smooth and sweeter. “Of course you were.”
“Oh and umm…thank you for cleaning me up. I wasn’t going to claw your eyes out necessarily. Getting covered in blood wasn’t your fault or anything.” You mumbled, fingers now tracing the texture of the blanket as you spoke.
Kid watched you for a second before responding. Chewing the truth and deciding to ask just in case you did remember too much. “It sorta was…I mean I overdid it. You don’t…remember too much of it right?” His voice hitched a bit at the end there. Eyes more wide and expectant as if he knew you were going to nag at him for how…extra he had been.
“Too much of what? I mean…I remember the guard getting…crushed. I don’t think I could ever forget that. And seeing you all covered in blood is still pretty vivid in my mind.” You said innocently as if even that didn’t bother you. You knew Kid could be a cruel man in battle and had gotten used to it. So you didn’t get what he seemed so worked up about.
“Well…that’s not exactly ideal but better than nothing.” Kid stroked his hair again, a nervous habit that always gave him away. The corners of his eyes tightened and his gaze went anywhere but you.
“What? Did something bad happen after you saved me?”
“More like…before I saved you. And it was all over the ground. Lots of guts and gross shit I don’t need you seeing.” Kid's answer rolled off his tongue awkwardly and slowly as if he was cringing the whole way through it.
“You saying I can’t handle gore and stuff? You know I can.”
You piping up defensively instead of in utter disgust for him was a bit of a shock. Kids lack an eyebrow raised in confusion. Looking over you and seeing that in fact you weren’t barfing in your mouth a little.
Well then clearly they didn’t see it. They weren’t lying.
“Well it was especially…gross this time. Even Killer complained that I accidentally splattered him.”
Your eyes widened at that. Finally putting it together just how far Kid must’ve gone when battling that crew. You looked him up and down a bit more carefully and still didn’t see a single wound. Which meant it wasn’t for fighting reasons, it was for you.
“Really? Well…shit. Killer is like…the king of being chill with a bunch of blood on him. Must’ve been bad.”
Killer really was the king of being okay with blood and gore. It's one of the reasons Kid had become so proficient in handling it himself. So for Killer to complain despite being the very man that taught Kid how to rip spines out cleanly was unexpected. Dare say concerning.
“It…was.” Kid swallowed a bit thickly, still almost ashamed of how he acted despite how good it felt. He was mainly just worried about your opinion of him. He didn’t want you knowing how brutal he could really be but from the light smile on your face, he realized you took it more as a compliment than anything.
“Then um…thank you for protecting me and my soft little mind.” You reached out timidly and touched his knee in front of you. Patting his thigh softly before mindlessly tracing little patterns on his skin. It made sparks fly up his spine feeling the soft pads of your fingers on him. His cheeks turning red as he watched your hand. Not at all interfering with the little ways you showed him you cared.
“You don’t need to thank me.” He said quietly, pausing for a moment before chewing on another thought. It made him nervous to say this. Hell, he would rather talk about anything else. But with a feigned layback attitude, he let it go. His heart far too heavy to keep it inside anymore. “Ya know…for a second there I thought you mighta left me. Got tired of the whole pirate life. Found some other man…to wash behind your ears.”
You listened to his soft mumbling, eyes hazy with tiredness now turning sharp from the shock. “Wah-Why would you ever think that Kid? I’d never leave you. Even thinking about it is making me uncomfortable.” You stopped tracing his thigh. Instead, planting your hand firmly onto it. Your head perking up out of the pillow to look at him more.
Kid half expected you to say something like that. You were always the more vocal one about your feelings compared to him. Whilst you were screaming at the tops of your lungs how much you loved him, Kid would only croak it out in private. Pale skin always cast in an embarrassed flush despite how long you two have been together. “I know I know. I bet the crew woulda said the same thing if I had told them. That you’re too smitten and in love with me to just…leave.”
“Well of course I am! I’m pathetically in love with you and if I ever did leave, which is never happening in a million years, I would have told you beforehand. I’m not some sort of…cruel person to just slink away like that.” That last part made you both frown immediately. Your face strewn with pain and Kids full of guilt.
“I know you’re not, I know. I just got…scared that maybe…I was the one who made you go away.” He could feel his stomach drop saying that. Immediately regretting that he even brought it up. You were back and safe and telling him you loved him yet he still felt like he was the problem.
You could see that look of unsureness written all over his face. It made your voice go firmer, hand gripping his thigh a bit tighter as you leaned your body upwards. “Kid I got captured and nearly beaten to death. Why would I ever choose that over you?”
“I know that now but when I was looking for you…god, I don’t know. This conversation is stupid.” Kid flopped over onto his back. Bouncing the bed slightly as he pressed his head into the pillow. His eyes closed yet his lips tilted into a twitching frown. As if he was trying to tackle something going on in his head.
You’re brow furrowed and your heart ached. Bridging the gap between the two of you as your chest softly pressed against his arm. He popped his eyes open, feeling you move around and press up against him. His mouth immediately opened in complaint. “Stop moving already you need to-”
His words were cut off as you tucked his lips into a deep and needy kiss. Propping your elbow up and laying your chest against his wide one. One of your hands tracing up his pec, the other going up to softly play with his hair. Usually, he always took the led but you beat him to it. Lapping your tongue against his unpainted lips before slipping inside. Drinking him in with slow languid movements that were slightly rough from passion. His rigid body relaxed beneath you as his hand made its way to the arch of your back.
Biting softly on his lip as you pulled away, a surprisingly soft loving smile adorned your rosy cheeks as he stared up at you, nearly bewildered. His sharp honey eyes were wide and glassy. His sweet-smelling skin a beautiful shade of pink.
“I love you, okay? I won’t ever stop loving you. No amount of pain or mistakes or anything you think is wrong with yourself would ever deter me. You bleed for me, you bleed others for me, and you are the reason my heart's still beating. And even if you didn’t do any of that, if you were the most unsuccessful and incapable person on this planet, I would still love you. So please stop making up reasons why I wouldn’t love you because it's an insult to how much I do. Which is a fuck-ton if I needed to say it clearer.”
You simply smiled at him as he took all of that in. Blinking in surprise as a little gasp of air came out of him. The kind of breath that he was probably holding in. But as soon as he did he softened even more, a light smirk on his lips as his hand ran up your back to touch your hair. “Did you have that speech prepared or does being perfect just come naturally to you?”
You let out a little giggle at that. Kid always had a way of turning even the most intimate moments into something sweeter. “Well it was originally supposed to be a part of my wedding vows to you but I tweaked it a bit to fit the moment. Did I do a good job?”
“An amazing job. Though you thinking about marriage already is going to give me heartburn. But if I had any feedback to give, I would say keep the fuck-ton part in. Lays it on thick ya know?”
“Will do handsome.” You mumbled through a smile. Easing yourself into a more comfortable position and laying your head on his soft chest. His hand immediately pressed against your lower back. Rubbing his rough yet warm calloused hands across you. Staring up at the ceiling as he let out another deep sigh.
“I love you.” He whispered. Voice a bit more rasp and his face full of bliss.
“I know ya do dummy.”
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jupiter049 · 10 months
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After finally getting around to watching Kill The Moon I was very much surprised, pleasantly in fact.
While the abortion metaphor is 100% a valid reading you can make of the story, I don't buy it being the true conflict and message of the episode. Knowing that apparently Peter Harness didn't intend this to be an abortion metaphor, I can let it pass as what is probably a writer's political views subconsciously leaking into the script.
Judging the story literally and not metaphorically. It's about choosing if it's right/worth to kill an innocent being to save the lives of many.
This is literally the trolley problem.
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Then you remember that this episode works as a sort of prelude for Mummy On The Orient Express and the true intentions of this episode come to light.
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This is a story about having no "good choices", about taking risks when you aren't sure what's going to happen.
Clara is put way more in a bad light than what most people say. Clara is left speechless and with no counter arguments to what Lundwik argues and concedes to letting earth decide. When she finally pushes the button it was clearly a sudden and irrational move.
Clara outright says she didn't know what was going to happen, that she wasn't planning to press the button. Clara didn't make this choice because of knowing what was for the best, she did it because she couldn't bear the weight of intentionally killing an innocent being. She gambled, she took a leap of faith and it paid off.
Beyond the choice itself. Another big aspect of the episode is why The Doctor put Clara in this situation.
The Doctor is lonely. Everybody knows that. But even when companions are close to him, he still feels alone because there's nobody in the universe like him.
He can relate to some, but there's always a thing or two getting in the way (for example Time Lords being dead). So he craves, he strongly craves for someone like him. When The Doctor is asked why he wants to rehabilitate Missy a big reason he gives is the fact she is the only person somewhat similar to him.
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The Doctor desires someone he can relate to so badly it makes him want to redeem the person who destroyed 1/4 of the universe.
And now in an adventure with her he finds a situation in which they have to decide if they are willing to stop the birth of a living being to save the lives of many? That sounds familiar.
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Just like Nine brought Rose to the future so she could also experience what it's like seeing your planet explode and be the last member of your species, Twelve put Clara in this situation so she could experience what it's like to be the one who makes the big choices.
The Doctor all the time makes decisions that affect the lives of many. Decisions that most of the time he isn't sure if they will work. He risks it all every day. It brings him a lot of pain but he feels forced to do it because he thinks no one else can. He always has to save humanity because he thinks none of them could do what he does.
This... Sadly brings out the uncomfortable truth. Which is that The Doctor does look down upon humans. Don't get me wrong, he adores them, he would give it all to be like them. But he is aware that he considers himself superior to humanity, which is a side of him he (usually) tries to keep in check.
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Humanity is for The Doctor what animals are for humanity. We love animals, we admire what they can do and even envy them in some areas, but we still don't consider them as capable, as intelligent as us.
This side of The Doctor can be seen as far back as the first episode of the revival. Calling humans stupid apes, and describing them as a species on it's first baby steps. Because of it, he wants them to be better, he knows how amazing they can and will be and wants them to achieve their potential.
What I'm getting at is that he feels like he is the only one who has to make the big choices, he feels alone taking that burden. But at the same time, he likes it, he enjoys taking these decisions, and he would be more than pleased to have someone right by his side taking them as well.
This is about nurturing Clara into becoming something greater. In his eyes, this means stop being a little human and grow to be the tiniest little bit similar to him.
All of this makes me remember that one moment in The End Of Time Part 2.
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The Doctor said humans look like giants, he never said they look bigger than him.
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priksie · 1 month
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Koba x Reader
PRT 2
Words count : 1248
Warnings : mild violence ( mention of murder ) / mentions of blood
a change in your plan
The second part of my fanfiction , like before please do not hesitate if you have any advice and more for me.
This is the first time I'm writing something and English is also not my first language :))))
Also I decided that I wouldn't be following a lot of the plot of the movies , I'll keep the actions he did. But I don't feel like following the whole story.
-------------------------------------------
A few hours passed , the tension and the panic was slowly buildings every where. The glass of almost all door were broken and laying around you and your colleagues that didn't already got attacked. You weren't sure what was happening exactly , no one was telling you what was going on and you couldn't figure out what went wrong.
We're is he ? Is he safe ? Did he finally escape from there ?
People were screaming , animals were too.Television was diffusing in people house horrible images of ape escaping from zoo and from the same places she was working at , they were destroying everything theirs hands could get a hold off.
You could hear siren outside and shooting noise.
People were getting killed, even the one that never hurted them. You didn't even know how you managed to hide yourself , supposing that it was only your luck that this small room with brooms and household products was open. You had closed the door behind you and turned the light off before sitting down next to the door and glued yourself to the wall hoping that no one will be coming here.
You couldn't hide there forever, it was just until it was calmer inside of that particular place so you could escape.
As you tried to think about everything to forget what was happening you couldn't get out of your mind that it wasn't a surprise, they finally had enough and started to fight back , human can't keep them in cage forever without them fighting and run away one day.
WE deserved it. Even you , even if you tried to help them you still helped those people by working for them. You didn't deserve to just run away.
The way your heart was beating gave you the impression that it was going to explose , tears rolling down your face as you tried to calm yourself down. A hand on your mouth hoping to hide the noise of fear that was coming out of you.
It was the first time your body was sweating so much , it had never shaken that much before either .
distress , that's the only thing you felt.
How long ago did all of this started ? the feeling of having been sitting there for hours started to drive you crazy but the shock was keeping ou frozen in place , there weren't as much noise outside of your small room anymore tho so slowly, you started to wonder if you could come out.
It took another Ten minutes before you could start moving again and standing up with those trembling legs.
Hand slowly reached for the door handle, taking a deep breath you turned it to open the door before being stopped by a new dose of fear, adrenaline taking over your entire body when the shadow of what appeared to be one of those monkeys was in front of the door. He was visible through the window of the door, no proof that he saw you but you were convinced of it. despite everything, he simply leaves after giving you a quick glance. You weren't even really sure he saw you, it was dark inside the room you were in , the light had been turned off after all..because if he had seen you , he would have killed you right ?
It was him, you were sure. He Knew you were here and some part of you hoped he had been there still to look if you were okay.
Your head peaked out of the room , still hiding a bit behind the door you tried to look if he was still around but you only saw debris, blood...and even the corpse of at least one of your former colleagues lying on the ground.
your heart was still beating like it was going to stop. but everything seemed strangely calmer, you must find shelter, other people with whom you can protect yourself from danger.
It's only the beginning
---
FREEDOM , he was finally free and he will not let anyone approach him or hurt him ever again. His hatred for human , the fear of what they could do to him again got so much more intense now that he had real control of himself and now that he tasted the freedom after being locked up in a cage.
He will have revenge , he will not them forget what happened to him because of human selfishness.
His own heart was beating fast , the adrenaline through his vein wasn't helping to calmhis nerves.
I don't want to be alone. I'm free now and I don't want to be as alone as I always was here
He hasn't seen her , did she die ? Did she run away ? He hasn't seen her body anywhere so she must be gone. He was so confused , she needed to die too she didn't help him and she hasn't saved him either she didn't deserve any pity but at the same time....koba didn't want her dead , not by his hand or not in front of him at least he doesn't want to see her like that...but why?! He hated that feeling it was confusing him and he was getting irritated by it too.
Unconsciously he had been looking for her as he was going around in what was a few hours ago his prison.
Hoping in the back of his mind that he would see her at least one more time before leaving for good. As much as he would want to , he wouldn't trust her either. What if she treated him like a monster now that he was out ? Now that he could actually fight back? She would treat him like a horrible animal that needed to be put down like they all did and he was so sure of it.
Wandering alone , in that place that was so familiar to him...he had that strange feeling.
He was walking , exploring that place alone without anyone around him guiding him into a place to prepare him for another torture. It still didn't feel reassuring , he was so used to being around only for human sick nature that he didn't feel like he should be there at all.
Koba had the impression that at any moment , he will be opening his eyes and be back in the sell he grow up into.
Someone was still there , he knew it. Someone hasn't left this place and was still alive.
There wasn't a lot of room that hadn't been destroyed yet , only a small number of rooms were still like before. And he was close to one of them.
He was a few feet away from a door with some hope that you will be inside of there but at the same time he didn't want you to be here , still maybe waiting for your death or your possible escape.
The ape slowly walked towards the door when he started to hear a slight sound. someone was in there and he could hear it.
Please be alive , but don't come close to me. Hide like you hoped I didn't see you and just go away.
He stopped Infront of the door , the glass that was making a small window for people to see in made him able to look inside....it was surely dark but you were close enough to the door and finally he saw you , still alive and you were about to run away. He didn't stay long enough for you to realize that it was actually him , at least he hoped so and he didn't wait to see if you did before he went away . He got his confirmation, you didn't die yet and if you do die it wouldn't be because of him.
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seiya234 · 3 months
Text
for @dril-cipher because this is your fucking fault. also @marypsue for giving this perfectly good ape anxiety.
-----
Ian looked around.
Well, this certainly wasn't his beautiful house, that was for certain.
It looked uncomfortably like one of the designs for Grauntie Carla's house that Worris did for MTM. He sat at a kitchen table that had clearly been handmade by someone who mostly knew what they were doing; the table had been sanded down and sealed, but the surface was still bumpy and uneven. The walls were dressed with plaid wallpaper and covered in pictures, paintings, taxidermied creatures both real and unreal, old bottles, and a Bobby Big Mouth Big Boi Big Bass that had been popular when his grandparents were alive. The rug underneath him was a t-shirt rug, but Ian never knew they could be made big enough to cover an entire room. There was a cup of coffee poured for him, in a cup that read "Eye miss you!"
Ian sighed. This place was practically crumbling under the weight of all the meaning.
"I am getting a little tired of the Symbolism Room," he muttered to himself.
"Have you considered that a plain, empty room is in and of itself also imbued with symbolism?"
Ian whipped around.
A cartoonishly tall man walked into the kitchen. He was dressed in all black- black jeans, black dress shirt, black belt with a small silver and turquoise buckle- save for the white priest's collar around his neck. He had hair just like Ian's, albeit curlier, bare feet, and-
"Antlers?" Ian asked. It was probably rude but he was getting really tired of the Dreams of Great Import so....
"A long story," the man said with a grin, sitting across from Ian at the table. He too had a mug, though his read "I'm horny!" He caught Ian looking at it and smiled wanly. "My wife loved puns, though to be honest this isn't a pun so much as a bad joke."
(past tense)
Ian took a drink of his coffee; it was aggressively mediocre. "Alright, can you tell me why I'm here, so we can resolve whatever emotional issue has come up again, and I can get back to my regularly scheduled nothingness?"
Ian's words didn't get the slightest rise out of the other man which was... concerning. He worked best when people were mad.
"Certainly. I'm here because you're scared."
"I'm scared of a lot of things, you're going to need to try harder than that."
The man paused to take a drink of his coffee, grimacing slightly at the taste, then leaned back in his chair. "I'm here because when you get into the groove for Mizar the Magnificent, everything feels right in a way you don't feel most other times. I'm here because sometimes you turn off your prosthetic because it feels... right to only have the one eye. I'm here because... despite everyone assuring you that Bill can't come back, that you can't bring him back, you know that's not true." Another drink. "It would just take you fifteen minutes, if that."
Ian felt the blood drain from his face, spread his hands on the table to keep them from shaking.
He hadn't told even Mira about the first two things.
"Congratulations," Ian managed to drawl, "you know my deepest, darkest fears. Have a fucking cookie." It took some effort but he pushed himself back from the table, got out of the chair. "I'm done with this little game, so snooze you later, hit the road Jack, GO-"
The antlered man held up a hand. It was wreathed in blue flame, like the fire from a room he tried not to think about, like Alcor's fire
(like MY fire)
like the fire he felt blazing in lieu of his implant.
"Who are you?" Ian asked.
"I'm Henry. Henry Pines."
"I- oh." Well that was all the wind out of his sails right there. "Okay, wasn't expecting you to actually just tell me that, I thought there would be at least another two pages of banter before we got there. Thanks?"
"Of course."
"Though that name means like, nothing to me."
"Ah. I should have k-"
Henry disappeared. Ian was still in the room.
A minute passed.
He drank his coffee, which was now getting cold and sludgy.
"Oh, sorry about that."
Ian jumped, again, and turned around to face Henry, who was still barefoot and all in black, but now had laundry hanging from his antlers. "Seriously, I know this narrative calls for jump scares, but can you try to stop that?"
"My apologies. I'm still being digested."
"Digested-" Ian paused.
The blue fire.
The antlers.
The girl told him about one night.
"You're... you're Paloma."
A flash of long dark hair and flowering antlers and back to the man in black. "Among many other names, but yes."
"So when you say digested..."
"Di-Alcor ate me."
"He what."
Henry very primly sniffed. "I can see how my phrasing can be taken as a reference to oral sex but could we please attend to the matter at hand?"
"Which is? I feel like we're wildly off track."
"Fair. More coffee?"
Ian held out his mug and Henry poured from a handmade pitcher that somehow managed to perfectly recreate the effect of googly eyes in clay.
They sat for a moment, and drank their coffee, which was slightly better this time.
Finally, Henry began. "M-Mira is pregnant."
"She is... Oh stars is this going to be a weird fatherhood talk? Because full disrespect, I've gotten one of these from Alcor and that was bad enough."
"What on God's green earth did Di- Alcor have to say to you about that?"
"I think he was trying to tell me I would do a good job, but he ended up damning me with faint praise for about fifteen minutes and then ghosted me so, a solid 3 out of 10, points for effort I guess."
Henry frowned. "I am a little concerned that my- that he hasn't learned any social graces or niceties in a thousand years, or has willfully forgotten them-"
"It's not that," and now Ian just felt... cold. Empty. "It's Bill. It's always about Bill, always fucking WILL BE-"
"Your hair is on fire," Henry calmly noted.
It didn't feel like it was. That probably wasn't a good sign.
"Every time I think we're done with him, done and gone, something comes up, and we have to have the same conversation over and over and OVER-"
Ian ran a hand through the flames on his head. "And the worse thing is, this time it's all me. I can't stop thinking about Bill. And the baby. And what that means. Maybe it means nothing. Or everything. And Bill, Bill is like an itch under my skin
(a fire)
and the more I itch it, the itchier I become, and I can't. Stop. Thinking. About Me. No. Shit, wait. Him. Do you See?"
The room was silent for a minute.
"I held a knife to her throat once," Ian finally managed to get out. "Infants, they're so, so much easier than adults. Their bodies are so soft and squishy." He looked at Henry, who had been patiently listening, hands folded, collar white as bone. "I have no idea why I'm telling you any of this."
"I have been told by my wife before that I have a 'secret telling kind of face.'"
"Sounds like something Mira would say."
Henry smiled wanly, but went on. "I'm here because I know what all of this feels like."
"I sincerely doubt that."
"No, honestly, I do. I thought you could use an ear and some advice-."
That old familiar feeling of squirrels eating his brain, of his heart stuttering in his chest, the great massive snarl barely contained in his skin up and out and "You have no idea what I need to keep inside of me."
Henry reached across the table, and laid a hand on Ian's arm and-
(ian was in a forest. it was dark and he tried to walk, tried to run, but he couldn't he was pushed down face first into the dirt from the feeling of anger, anger that at one point may have had a reason behind but that reason was long forgotten and now the anger was a self feeding, self regulating beast
ian was in a forest and he felt small, so horrifically small, so viscerally aware that there were things (people) that could hurt him, hurt him and even kill him, and nothing or no one in the forest would DO anything about it.
ian was in a forest and rising above him was a tree but haha not really that wasn't a tree that was a beast a monster a thing no it was
Death.)
-patted it gently.
Or at least, Henry would have if Ian was still sitting at the table, and not, say, with his back against the wall and his chair toppled to the side of the table.
"You're-"
"I was. He came from me. I birthed him."
Even shit scared, Ian must have given Henry a look, because Henry said "Metaphorically. I've never gotten the full details about how that works because to be perfectly honest, Alcor doesn't even know."
Henry got up, and walked around the table.
"Hand up?"
"You going to inflict yet another horrific mental scar on me?"
"No. And my apologies. I really need to be better about telling, not showing." Henry paused. "Or is it the other way around? I am a little embarrassed to admit that despite my occupation, I am not well versed in the mechanics of storytelling."
"It depends," Ian said, and let himself be hauled up.
"It's... hard," Henry began as they sat back at the table. "To have to control yourself. To feel like if you loosen that control for even one second, all hell will break loose. Especially when you have had all hell break loose before."
A dark look passed across Henry's face, and Ian remembered that there were limbs on those limbs in the forest.
A lot of them.
"I tried, for several years, to keep myself as tamped down as firmly as possible. And even before-" he waved a hand to indicate the antlers, the weird dreamscape symbolism bullshit room- "all of this, I kept fighting myself, every single day, to stay in control. Because control was all I had. Because control was the only thing that could save myself, could keep me from harming others."
"Okay, so what extremely traumatic life changing event happened to you that made you change your mind?"
"I won't bore you with the details, save to say I have never liked trophy hunters. But I realized in that time that my control.. it was brittle steel. It was weak from having to hold in so much, for so long, and then it shattered under stress."
"Okay, but most people don't have monsters tucked up in their souls."
"Fair but look. The point is, the power you have inside of you. It's not inherently good or bad- let me finish Ian Thomas Beale-"
(Ian's mouth audibly snapped shut)
"- it just is. Bill used his power for ill. Just because that power is there doesn't mean you have to use it. Or if you do, that it would be for ill."
"That's too much like temptation for me," Ian finally said, quietly.
"I know. I'm not saying you have to. Hell, I'm not even saying that this dream is going to magically cure you of your fears and control issues-"
"Because that would be too easy."
Henry nodded. "Oh of course. My apologies, I am all over the place today-"
"On account of being digested."
"Yes, lets go with that. No, I guess I just wanted to say, as trite as it sounds... try to relax."
"What if I hurt them?"
Henry rolled his eyes, which was a little incongruous with the impression Ian had gotten from him. "There is no universe where Ian Beale as he is now, would hurt Mira Ramachandran, or their baby. Honestly, you're more likely to hurt other people who hurt them, which probably is not great, but I am certainly not one to judge."
(so many limbs)
"I have literally been under tremendous stress my whole life, even before finding out about the past life murder triangle."
"Trust me, I know. But just... from one monster to another? It's okay to relax. It's okay to let that control loosen for a minute. The world won't end-"
"But it almost did. Twice. Maybe three times? It's hard for me to remember."
"But it didn't."
Ian... he must have looked as lost as he felt, because Henry smiled, sadly.
"I know you hear this from Mira, and from your friends, and even occasionally from Alcor, but I thought it would help to hear it from a stranger too."
Ian thought for a second.
"I think... it kind of did? Or maybe I'm just saying this to get out of this dream because I'm getting tired of talking. I don't know."
"You probably won't remember this dream up here-" Henry tapped his head. "-but you will here-" and he tapped his chest. "-and that's all that really matters to me."
"That's kind of corny."
"I was not a corny man when I was alive, let me indulge a little bit."
Henry leaned over, and gently kissed Ian on the forehead. "Keep her safe."
Ian realized, far too late, who he had been really, truly talking to this whole time, and it felt like his bowels were turning to water. But he managed to creak out an "Of course," before everything went dark.
---
The last few weeks had been hard for Mira, considering the massive amount of emotional labor she was doing for both her brother and her husband. Alcor was probably a lost cause at this point, but with Ian...
She sighed.
She understood, really, she did, but she was tired and-
"Hey."
She rolled over, to see Ian looking at her. "Hey back. You seem... relaxed?"
Ian smiled, and laid a hand on her stomach, which was still relatively flat.
"Yeah. I don't know I think... I think I've had my head up my ass for the last month, about all of this."
"You have."
"And I owe you an apology."
"Apology accepted if you can grab the peanut butter for me before I throw up."
"Of course."
Ian got up. He wasn't sure why it felt like the fire under his skin had died down, why it felt like he could handle his shit a little better today than even yesterday, but for once, he was not going to look this gift horse in the mouth.
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Text
Study Date (poly! Veronica Sawyer x reader x Jason Dean)
Description: you have a study date with your partners Veronica and JD
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A/N: I rewatched Heathers again and got this idea for a fic, and although I'm pretty convinced this is super crappy I figured I might as well put out some sort of content
Warnings: smoking, dark humor
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"Ugh, this is so boring," you complained as you watched Veronica review over her notes in preparation for an upcoming test.
"It's math, it's not supposed to be exciting," she responded before flipping to another page.
JD chuckled, observing the two of you before pulling a cigarette from his coat and going to light it.
"Jason, you can't smoke in here!" You scolded as you snatched the cigarette from his mouth.
He frowned before picking up another one. "Why not?"
"Because this is my house, and if my parents find out they're going to be pissed. Now give me your lighter so you won't be tempted." You held your hand out, gesturing towards the lighter he was holding.
He let out a small laugh, assuming you were joking before he realized you weren't. "Aw, come on, you can't be serious."
"I very much am, unless you want to explain to my parents why their house smells like cigarette smoke. Now hand it over."
Veronica held back a laugh as she watched JD reluctantly give you his beloved lighter.
"Thank you, very much," you said as you tucked it into your backpack.
"Well, now I'm bored," JD commented.
"Maybe if you pulled out your textbook and studied for tomorrow's test you wouldn't be," Veronica suggested as she held up her book.
"I don't need to study, I'm sure I'll do fine," he said as he tapped his fingers on the table. "Man, I could really use a smoke right about now."
"See? He's taking the same test we are, why doesn't he have to study?" You asked as Veronica took your copy of the textbook out of your bag.
"Because he's a delinquent who gets himself in trouble on purpose, that's why," she said while handing it to you. "Here's your book, now study."
"This is lame," you mumbled as you sunk down low in your seat.
"Tell me about it. If I had known things were going to be this boring I would have found somebody to piss me off so I'd have an excuse to fake a suicide. At least that would excite me," he joked.
You laughed loudly before seeing the look of judgment on your girlfriend's face. "Ahem, I mean, that's not funny JD, shame on you," you fake lectured while he snorted at your antics.
Veronica playfully rolled her eyes before tapping on the textbook in front of you. "Study."
You crossed your arms over you chest and huffed. "But I don't wanna. Can't I just study later?"
"Study later- the test is tomorrow! How much time do you think you're going to have between now and then to study if you wait?"
You shrugged your shoulders, your boyfriend letting out an amused chuckle as you did so.
"I mean, she's not wrong," he pointed out.
"Oh, shut up JD, you have no room to talk," Veronica huffed, JD holding his hands up in surrender as she did so.
"Why is this so important to you?" You ask as you watch her furiously scribble in the margins of her textbook. "You've never been that much of a stickler when it comes to grades before, so why start now?"
"Because-" she sighed, setting down her pencil, "-when we graduate high school I'm probably going to move somewhere else to go to college, and I don't want you guys to get left behind. That's all."
You and JD shared a look. You'd never thought of it that way before. I mean, sure, Sherwood wasn't the worst place in the world, but it certainly wasn't the best either. The thought of you and JD getting stuck there, barely scraping to get by while Veronica was off seeing the world sent a shiver down your spine.
"Alright, fair enough." If it really meant that much Veronica that you study, then that's what you'd do.
Her face softened into a grateful smile, watching as you opened up your textbook to the notes page. She reached her hand across the table and set it down on yours, giving it a soft squeeze.
"Thanks, honey. I really appreciate it."
"Just know, I'm only doing this for you, okay? There's literally no one else in the world that could convince me to do math homework for them."
Veronica let out a small chuckle before turning her gaze to JD, who had stolen back his lighter and was casually smoking a cigarette.
"Jason!" You exclaimed, reaching over to snatch it from his mouth while Veronica laughed.
~
{Divider by: @celcero}
Main masterlist | Heathers masterlist | wanna be added to my taglist?
🏷 taglist: @anxiously-sad @iloveentrapta @ghot-girl @gilmore-angel @alexxavicry
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beardysuits · 2 years
Text
Man of the House
Edited once more to comply with Tumblr's guidelines...
He’s such a fucking asshole…
I slammed the door behind me and threw my backpack to the ground, trying to still my breathing and not rage out. 
“Hey! What yourself slamming those god damn doors! I don’t see any checks coming from you to pay for them!” Dad shouted from down the hall. Yeah you barely pay for them you piece of shit. I walked over to my dresser mirror and examined my bruised eye. Rodney, the fucking ape, thought I was staring at his ass in the hall and decided to beat the hell out of me. I mean, I was, I can’t excuse my wandering eye. But an innocent peek is way more excusable than queer bashing. 
I could excuse it to some extent, he’s just some idiot jock. But my dad is who really pissed me off. I had tried to sneak past him to go to my room, but there he was, laying with his third beer on the couch (the other two empty bottles sitting on the floor) and catch me. Called me out for being beaten up for being a fag and told me I had to man up. 
“I’m scared of the day you become the man of your house,” he had said before scoffing. “Or should I say woman?” He laughed to himself before taking another drink of his backwash brew. I had stormed off and here we are. He’s such a prick, using me as a punching bag; both literally and figuratively. Never man enough, never tough enough, never amounting to even his lowest expectations. I was fucking man enough, I would show him. I’d love to walk right up to him and punch him in his smug fucking face. 
I was getting more and more worked up, my breathing escalating before I couldn’t control it anymore. I turned and stormed back out the door to confront him. Swinging open the door, I made my way back to the living room only to stop right in my tracks. He was of course still there, now on his fourth beer, but his hand was stuck in his pants. He looked over at me not surprised or angry, just amused. 
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“Oh look who decided to come see his old man? Got another shiner you wanna show off?” He took his hand out of his pants and zipped up. 
“Don’t get turned on by what you just saw. Bad enough you’re queer as a two dollar bill, let alone wanting to fuck your old man.” My anger began to rise again as he sat up and stared at me, fiddling the beer between his fingers. He took another swig and tossed a hand in the air. 
“So you’re queer and mute? Least there’s some kind of improvement,” he said, getting up from the couch and walking past me. He shouldered me, pushing me to the side. 
“Fuck you,” I mumbled, my hands clenched, trembling as my knuckles turned white. I heard him stop shuffling. 
“Oh you got something to say?” He asked. “The only balls I thought you had would be in your mouth.” I spun on the spot, my arm raised and without aim. My knuckles made contact with his jaw and he slumped the ground, crashing as the beer he was holding bounced away. If it weren’t for the alcohol in his system, there’s no way I would have knocked him down. Immediately I began to panic. He was already rough enough with me just because he had a bad day at work, I couldn’t image what he was about to do. 
The only thing was, he wasn’t getting up. I stepped closer and kicked my foot at him. Leaning down, I crept my face closer to his, seeing if he was still breathing. A soft moan escaped from his lips and I could finally see the soft movement in his chest pressed against the floor, signaling a sign of life. Oh thank god��. Getting up, I pushed my foot against his leg, seeing if it would wake him. Nothing. He was out cold. Which… gave me an idea. A sick, but completely worth it idea. Dad wants to make fun of me for being some kind of queer? Let’s see how he likes it. 
I pushed my fingers down the back of his waistband and tugged slightly, gauging how much it would risk waking him. Pulling further, I managed to shimmy both his jeans and briefs down to his knees. His d*ck flopped under him, pressed against the cold wooden floor. God, you would hope for being such an asshole, it would be due to having a small d*ck, but of course he was packing a bull of a jock. He still wasn’t moving, so I fished my phone out of my pocket and took a few pictures of his ass. Which, was surprisingly bubbly for his age. I guess being a washed out high school jock turned construction worker did wonders to the glutes. Now if he gave me any more lip, I was going to share these online and humiliate him. I was about to put my phone away and pull the pants back up when a new idea tugged at my intrigue. Damn, was I really going to do this? I bit my lip, nervous but curious about the idea. 
My hand was shaking as I reached out to his ass. Using my thumb, I pushed one his cheeks to the side to reveal his hole. I snapped another photo and yanked my hand back as he grumbled. Okay, this was way too fucking risky…. But still, what if I went a little further? The coffee table was behind me, I angled my phone against it so you could see me only from my torso down, but his body was in full frame. I hit record and moved closer to him. Spreading open his ass with one hand, I took my index finger and trembled as it approached his hole. 
I brushed the tip of my finger against it, it was oddly smooth and puckered out at me upon contact. He made no noise at all as I did so. I was fueled by intrigue, lust, and stupidity as my finger approached it once more. I prolonged the contact this time, pushing so gently, but assuredly. I was able to penetrate to which I could have sworn I heard the soft sound of air escape his chest. Pushing further, I was able to get to my first knuckle, without so much as a peep from him. It was warm and so tight, his hole wrapped around my finger perfectly, like it was practically begging for more. I obliged and pushed more in until I reached the end of my finger, the tip of which brushed against a lump I could only assume was his prostate. Pulling my finger out, I was relieved to see it come out clean. 
Spitting onto it and my middle fingers, I lathered them up and sat them one on top of the other. I had completely disassociated and went into autopilot. Dad’s hole was begging for me to feed it. I pushed both fingers within ease, perhaps even easier than the first time. I worked them back and forth, pushing against his prostate each time I did so. I saw his pole twitch and begin to slither out as it grew in size. Sweat began to trickle down my back as I worked his hole, stretching him wider and wider. I pull my shirt off, getting way too hot to keep it on. Three fingers, let’s see if he can take three. My ring finger wiggled its way inside, pushing the other two aside to be embraced by the warmth of his entrails. My own pole had begun to press against my pants, begging to be freed from its prison and embrace the moment. With my free hand, I yanked them off, my foot getting caught in the cuff. I was able to free myself and soon I found myself naked in my living room, still finger fucking my deadbeat dad.
Four, no, five. Let’s fucking see if he can take a whole god damn hand! My pinky and thumb didn’t hesitate to stretch him wider. It was odd, almost magical the way he just opened up to me. In only a few minutes, I was able to get all fingers inside with little hesitation from him. His hole was sucking me in, slobbering as it wanted to eat more of me. It was only once my entire hand was inside that I realized that may be meant literally. I could almost feel sucked closer to him. How the fuck was he not waking up?
I looked up to see the back of his head poked out from his wife beater. Fuck, what was I doing? I pulled my hand back, snapping to the reality of the situation. But, it wouldn’t budge! In fact, the very act of trying to free myself only led to me being pulled further in, I was halfway to my elbow! I grabbed my arm with my free hand tried to pull back, but it was no use, I kept going further and further in. I wormed a couple fingers from my right hand to try and stretch him enough to pull myself out, but those got sucked in too! It had managed to encapsulate my free fingers and was taking the rest of the hand with it! I planted my bare feet to the ground and yank, only to lose my footing and fall face forward, up to my elbows inside of him. 
His hole was stretched, but refused to break. I flexed my fingers and could see the back of my hands press from inside of him against his back. It was like they were in a suit of him. 
“Dad! Dad wake up! Help me!” I pleaded, finally more afraid of what was happening to me instead of him finding himself like this. But what was I kidding? If having a full grown human halfway inside of him didn’t wake him up, what good would yelling do? The pull was becoming stronger and sucking me in faster. I was up to my shoulders now and knew what would happen next. But without my arms, I had no balance at all. I kicked my feet and tried to find anything to grip my legs on to, but I was being pulled away too quickly to do anything about it. 
My forehead was pressing against the edge of his ass. I tried to pull my head away, but it was no use. I felt my hair break through as I was pulled in. My chin brushed against his now fully erect manhood as it pulsed with each pull from him. The last thing I saw before being sucked up was his taint as it was stretched nearly to its limit. It was dark in here, the sound of his heartbeat echoed and pounded against my ears. I could feel the cool air still outside from my torso and legs, but all I could focus on was the feeling of being inside of him. I finally had control of my arms again though, but it did little to help my situation. I tried to claw my way out, but it made me almost shoot forward. I felt a lurch as the rest of my body down to my waist was pushed inside. 
It was oddly comfortable in here, like being wrapped in a skin tight blanket. But man that beating was driving me crazy! Fuck it, there’s no way out of this. Maybe… if I went out the other way…? I pushed myself further, feeling my own piece slide inside. Damn… that actually felt really good. Inside of here, it was like it was enclosed in a warm, silky sheath. The body began to feel more enclosed as my thighs were enclosed, but I could feel the hole fighting up again as less and less of me was left to take in. I began to feel somewhat claustrophobic and I fought to get some form of air. Spreading my arms out, I could feel the sides of his body and moved them up until I found two holes. 
Pushing my arms out, they began to slide into new homes, sliding down the caverns until they were met with… were those his fingers? I wiggled my fingers until I could feel them slither into place like his hands were gloves of flesh. I could feel his hole tightening as the last bits of my feet were pushed inside. There was a small pop when the last of my toes made it in. I instinctively kicked my legs around until they found slots of their own to go down. I shimmied them down until I found what I was certain were his feet. It took some wriggling, but soon enough my toes found their way into his. I wiggled them and felt the cool flooring beneath me. It was still pitch black, but I had gotten a sense of what was happening, and there was only one step left. I pushed my head up and felt a strong tight grip around myself. Like… that of his neck pressed against me. I began to struggle to breathe and pushed harder, as if I was trying to break the surface of water while drowning. I felt a snap and my head hit an elastic ceiling. 
My eyes shot open and I gasped for air, catching my breath while taking in my surroundings. I was level to the ground, my vision parallel to the dirty wooden floors of my living room. I looked around and twitched my fingers, feeling them move freely and rapped against the wood. I pushed myself up, noticing the wife beater adorning my chest and… FUCK! I looked down to see a massive boner perched in front of me, thick and glistening with precut. Dad’s… I guess… MY jeans were still hugging my knees and trailing under me. I turned around saw nothing but the sheen of pre and saliva adorning the wooden floor. 
“Holy f*ck…” I said before slapping a hand against my mouth. That was dad’s voice! This… I rubbed my fingers across my chin. This was dad’s beard! Were my suspicions true? I stood up, my new legs wobbling as I adjusted to my new weight. I must have packed on a good fifty pounds and beer gut. 
I found walking too difficult, so I pulled my new briefs up and snapped the band around my waist, my c**k still soaking them. Kicking off my jeans I stumbled to the bathroom and forced open the door. I snapped on the light and looked in the mirror to see my father, his face adorned with shock and awe, a look I had never seen from him. Leaning against the countertop I peered closer, taking it all in. I was him alright, though I could see it was actually my blue eyes and not his brown ones. Aside from that, I was the spitting image of my piece of shit father. Holy shit… I was him! I could feel my c**k twitch against the briefs even more at the idea of impersonating him. 
I almost even reached in and began to pump it but felt like that had to be wrong, right? Maybe I could try force myself out. And then… well I don’t know what. I had no idea what to even do. Did I just lose my own life and become him permanently? Did I lose half my life to just be some old asshole who beats his son. Or, used to? Maybe this was my way of escaping. I had no money, no prospects and at least another year before I could graduate and get myself out of his deadbeat town. What if this was my way out of here and starting fresh? I smiled in the mirror to myself, becoming more okay with this new situation by the minute. 
Okay dad, looks like we’re going to be doing things a little differently around here! Starting it looks like with my new friend… I pulled the band of my underwear down and marveled at my new c**k. I swung my hips and felt it thrust wildly. Lifting my top up, I let it come up and slap me against my new hair stomach, which rippled upon my d*ck’s impact. Oh this was going to be fun. Dad gave off serious top energy and I was going to use that to my advantage… Or maybe I should have somebody show me how it’s done first…? I ran the living room, finally adjusted to my new weight as if I had accrued it myself over the years. I found my phone to see it was still recording. Damn, I’m going to have to watch that crazy video back soon. 
I turned off the recording and repositioned the phone so I could start posing. I did some of the typical poses I had seen guys do online: gripping at my new bulge and winking, lifting both arms up and licking at my pits (damn he really fucking reeked after a day at work!), sticking a tongue out and rolling my finger back, acquisitioning my boy to come here. I even decided to be a little playful and found a random book from school, flipping it to a random page and pretending to read as I spread my legs wide. 
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I wanted to save it for whoever I had over here first, but I couldn’t help it. I decided I should record one more photo before publishing myself online. I set up the phone to record ones more and pulled down my briefs. I spit into my hand and lathered up my c**k, sliding my hand up and down the pole, feeling the ecstasy build as I watched my stolen body move under my whim. I kicked a leg up on the sofa and stretch my ass open, exposing my new hole to the lens. Fiddling a finger around, I slid into myself and penetrated. Daaaaamn, so this is what I had done to him? He should be thanking me! This was amazing. I let out a deep growl as I pushed my finger in and pushed against my prostate. A shockwave of pleasure rocketed through me as rubbed the palm of my hand against the head. I slid a second finger in and fucked myself, picking up the pace and dreaming of the first guy who would pump his load inside of me. The thought alone, mixed with the image of my homophobic father getting off to himself sent me over the edge. 
“Fuck, I’m cumming…” I moaned in my dad’s voice, my eyes desperately pleading for release. I looked myself square in the face as I felt the pressure build from my balls and finally pump itself out. FUCK! The streams of c*m rocketed out and sprayed themselves across my black tank, one even finding its way into my new beard. I forced as much c*m as possible out before I ran dry and was breathing as if I had just run a marathon. I looked at the phone, still recording as my father sat upon the sofa, two fingers inside of him and c*m splayed across his chest. I removed my fingers, wincing as my hole had tightened around them. Once they were removed, I sucked on my fingers, letting the little bits of c*m on them trickle down my throat. 
“Mmmm…” I moaned, before winking and turning off the recording. Damn, if that performance wouldn’t get me laid, I had no idea what would!
After I was done, I chose the best photos to accompany my little home movie and made my very own Grindr profile. I was a new daddy in the area looking for somebody big and strong to show me how to take a new man. Which, shouldn’t be too hard for this body. It took an entire human, how bad could one d*ck be? I finally snapped one final photo, a cute little selfie to hopefully draw in some cuties. 
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It wasn’t long before I had myself set up and messaged any guy who piqued my interest - and there were a ton of them! Man, I hope I’m not out of this for quite some time! 
——————————————————————————————————
It has been about three months now, I still have no idea how to get out of dad and honestly, that’s fine. Turns out being a construction worker daddy and being a little bottom slut was exactly what every guy in this town needed. Sure, I had topped a few times too, but this body was obviously meant to take rod. The first time as with this guy named Ryder. I was terrified, but man, when I felt his slide into my the first time, I almost came instantly. He was so fucking impressed with how well I took him and he became a regular at the household. He amongst others, found out that my old man was a huge slut and would take load after load from men with no names. 
 However, I made sure to gather as much evidence as my escapades as I could, just in case. I would video and photograph myself with any guy who gave me permission to do so. If dad somehow found a way to get rid of me, I had a whole archive to use against him. I wasn’t too worried about it though, I was perfectly happy with my new life. 
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pedriscroquettes · 1 year
Note
something fluffy with gio reyna? 🤧🫨
𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑 – GIO REYNA
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warnings. fluff, mentions of hockey (lots of them), scally!reader, angst, mentions of dead relatives, grief if you squint, and a very dramatic gio
summary. dyeing your brother’s and his best friend’s hair leads to suppressed feelings the both of you are ready to let out.
a/n. get him some toner omds!!!
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“am i more of a sandy blonde or platinum blonde?” he looked at you seriously, completely depending on your answer.
“look, the two of you agreed to dye your hair and the color every other athlete uses for playoffs is platinums. so, unless y’all want to look dumb in front of a sold out stadium take the platinum.” gio just shook his head and your brother simply agreed.
americans didn’t have culture per se but they had tradition and one of those included teenage boys dyeing their hair an awful shade of blonde during playoffs for their respective sports. hockey boys did it all the time although they tended to lack toner. and now that you looked around the hotel bathroom you realized the boys sitting in front of you also forgot to get some.
“it’s so great that you both ended up professional athletes.” you sighed as you took the dye out of the box.
“hey, i had good grades and even took ap classes. if i’ve lost intelligence it’s a hundred percent because this dumbass has infiltrated his way into our lives.” joe completely threw his best friend under the bus.
“gee thanks. this is why your sister is the better scally sibling. she’s mean but not harsh.” gio scoffed as he placed the towel around his neck.
“i’ve always been the better sibling.” you reply as you grab the vaseline you bought from the bag.
“okay, joe close your eyes.” you instruct your brother and you’re lucky he’s always been the obedient child.
you carefully apply the vaseline along his hairline, behind his ears, and the area around his neck. you’re careful to avoid his mouth or eyes. you’re too focused on not wanting to cause your brother any discomfort you don’t catch gio’s stare. he’s looking at you with so much fervor. he’s always loved the way you don’t hesitate to help your brother out no matter how stupid he’s being. or the way you’d always bring something to his family’s estate in new york because you insisted on never showing up empty handed. oh, how badly he wanted to be joe right now.
“okay, starboy you’re next.” you stand in front of your brothers teammate.
“starboy? you never call me anything like that.” your brother whines.
“oh, sorry didn’t know our family was also involved in a huge scandal because the fans were mad you didn’t play.” you scoff.
gio can’t help but laugh at your joke. if it had been anyone else he’d probably be more than annoyed but for some reason he found it funny coming from you. after all you knew his family and you didn’t care about the rumors or the allegations. you’d claimed to him so many times that you would never speak ill of them on purpose because his family treated you as kin.
“come on, close your eyes.” you urged him.
it was never easy being in close proximity with gio. his bleu de chanel perfume that he probably started using since he was fifteen always found a way to make you nervous. you’d never come to terms with your feelings for the u.s. national always thinking you only felt so giddy around him because you’d never been so close to another boy. but, now that you have had your own share of flings and relationships you realized maybe there was something more. obviously you never acted on those said feelings in respect of your brother’s friendship with him.
not that your brother dictated who you could or couldn’t date but you knew that if you tried anything it could go one way or another. gio’s slow breathing somehow stops you from overthinking. the american boy loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hairline and behind his neck. he could get used the feeling. he imagines your hands on his neck after he wins the nations league because one thing he knew for sure is that he would win it.
he almost whines at the loss of contact due to you grabbing the gloves from the kit. the last thing you wanted was remnants of joe and gio’s stupidity all over your palms. you leave the bathroom again this time in search of a bowl to mix the dye unaware of the conversation occurring between your brother and gio.
“so, when are you going to tell her?” joe looked at the borussia player seriously.
“i was thinking about it. maybe after we win would be nice?” he tries to say but instead it comes out half a question.
“right. and if we don’t win?” joe almost whispers the question as if not to jinx them.
“we will.” gio sends him a smirk. “it’s just what if she- fuck it’s going to be all weird. my mom loves her and so does my dad. i can’t afford to lose her friendship.”
“well, we’ve already established that i’m not a problem. i’m always around the two of you all the time so i’m not worried about losing you. it’s just a matter of you confessing to her as corny as that sounds. i don’t know how my sister feels and i may never know if you don’t make a move. just make sure that there won’t be too many mini gio’s because i also have a professional career myself and won’t be able to babysit all the time.” joe laughs.
“babysit who?” you ask as you walk in with a bowl of the mixed dye products.
“uhm, zimmerman’s kids. yeah he brought them to las vegas and was asking around to see if anyone would take care of them while he took his wife out.” joe easily lies.
“okay, well who’s going first?” you ask as the two boys in front of you start rethinking this spontaneous decision.
an hour later you’re waiting patiently as the two of them take turns rinsing their hair. you already know it’s bound to be a disaster because of the lack of toner and the way the boys couldn’t keep still as you applied the product to their hair. for a second you thought you’d make their hair fall off. as the shower turned off you waited anxiously to see the final result. they’d either be the most talked about because it ended out good or bad. as the door opened you couldn’t help but bite your lip at anticipation.
“oh my god. you look exactly like the hockey kids from st. mary’s during playoffs.” you gasped.
“i’ll be sure to send trevor a selfie and add what you said.” gio talked about one of his friends who happened to play professionally in the sport mentioned.
“it’s not bad. it’s kind of-”
“nice?” joe asked
“cool?” gio chimes in.
“i was going to say cunty but yeah sure.” you stood up getting closer to them to analyze your work. you were sort of proud of yourself considering you lacked toner.
“cunty?” the two of them asked in unison.
“yeah, never mind y’all don’t get it so it’s not cunty anymore.” you sighed.
“oh, fuck. christian is coming over i got to go clean my room. i’ll see you both at the stadium later.” your brother suddenly stands up and heads out the room but not before winking at his friend. a wink you somehow don’t see.
“since when does he care about what people think about him? cleaning his room? he must have a crush on pulisic.” you scoff at your brother’s antics.
“do you have a crush on christian?” gio doesn’t mean to sound nosy nor interrogative.
“he’s not ugly but i don’t have a crush on him, no. plus it seems he’s already stolen my brother’s heart.” you chuckle quietly.
“will you be at the final?” he asks.
“why? you don’t want me there? i thought we were friends.” you whine playing with him.
“no, i- i do. i just- it’s just.” he pauses. “i don’t want you there as my friend.”
“oh? did i do something i don’t understand?” you look confused. what did he mean by that?
“no! i mean that- well i’ve known you since i was like an early teen. you’ve been with me through everything hell you were even with me in qatar. you helped me when i thought it was over for me. you were also there to comfort me when we lost the league. i just think that what i feel for you is more than just a platonic feeling. every time i see you it’s like my day can’t get any better. you’re constantly there making me feel better but you’re only there as a friend.” he starts.
“i want you to be there for me as a girlfriend a partner. i don’t just want to lean on your shoulder i want to leave kisses around your neck. fuck. i don’t know if you feel the same or if i over shared but i felt that if i didn’t say this to you all sooner i would die.” he finally stops.
“gio.” you face him. the boy you’ve loved for years. “your friendship with my brother wouldn’t be affected because of this?”
the only thing gio disliked about you was how selfless you were. specifically in moments like these.
“i told him how i felt and he said he’s no one to dictate how we feel. although, he’s worried about third wheeling that is if you like me. if not then this will definitely be awkward.” the two of you laugh.
“well, my dear nepo baby fortunately for you i find you very appealing. i’m not sure if i’m ready to be your girlfriend just yet or anything but i’m willing to give us a chance.” you say.
“how about wearing my jersey to the game tomorrow?” he suggests.
“now, wait a minute. i’m still a scally and as long as my brother represents this country i will be wearing our name thank you very much. but if you win we could possibly think of something else.” you state adamantly.
“so, i only get something if i win?” he questions.
“obviously.” you roll your eyes playfully.
“fine. if we win the competition you’ll dye your hair as well.” he insists.
“absolutely not reyna. i’ll give you a kiss at most.” you offer.
“deal.” he smiles.
“deal.” you shake hands with the newly blonde boy. you really hope this works out because you can’t help losing his friendship nor stop seeing that smile of his that made you feel like a little girl.
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joe carefully helps gio make his way to the stands with his injured leg. although, the injury doesn’t seem to phase the new york native one bit. he’s insistent on making his way towards his family and yours wanting to celebrate the win to the fullest no matter his status. the surreal feeling of winning another competition for his country overtakes the pain he feels as he limps towards your section. with the help of his friend it takes him only six minutes to get to his family.
despite all the turbulent times his family had faced lately they were still the most important people to him. he wasn’t ashamed that they were here nor embarrassed. he hugged them like his life depended on it. he never admitted it publicly but every time his parents said they were proud of him after a win he would get all sappy inside.
“we’re so proud of you and so is he.” his mother told him.
jack. how he missed his brother and wished he was here to witness all the things they should’ve achieved together.
“you okay?” you ask noticing how distant gio was being.
“just thinking about him.” he looks up at the giant screens saying they were champions.
“i believe he would be very happy for you and proud of what you’ve accomplished. but, you knew him best.” you brushed your hand through his hair. a habit of yours that had started when he randomly laid down on your lap during high school.
“well, i know for starters he’s happy that i finally asked you out. i like to think he was very proud when he saw my name on the squad list for qatar and i imagine he would be very happy for me today.” he smiles at the fond memories of his brother.
“i’m sure he would.” you agree with him. “are you okay though? physically?”
“oh, yeah just a few therapy sessions and it should be fine. although my leg is injured my lips aren’t. i’m still waiting on that kiss.” he smirks.
“you’re so corny oh my god.” you smack him playfully.
“oh please have you seen christian’s leaked snapchats? you should be grateful i’m not him. now, about that kiss?” he insists.
“here? in front of your family and the press? wow, you really hate me don’t you?” you ask him jokingly.
“oh, yeah i despise you. this has all been a big plan.” he plays along. “my family loves you already. trust, my mom has already planned our wedding.”
“well, your dad does love me more because my spanish abilities are better than yours and well i would die for your mom. but i’m not sure i’m ready to appear all over the internet.” you play with him.
“it’s not my fault i grew up in a household that only spoke english. anyways, i don’t want to pressure you-”
“come here.” you urge him to get closer to you so you could reach him better.
he scoots a little bit closer so now you’re in a close distance with him. his brown eyes look straight into yours and you internally smile at his features. you hope the gum you’ve been chewing for the past hour comes in handy as you lean down. the kiss is short but sweet. he can’t place his hand on your jaw to deepen it as he needs to maintain his crutches balanced. when you both pull away you notice his rosy cheeks and soon you feel yours heating up.
“by the way i’m going to need some toner.” he smiles up and you simply scoff after playfully smacking him.
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fox-bright · 1 month
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Watching the H5N1 stuff get worse and worse--I'm hoping we have until late next year before it goes reliably human-human, but it wouldn't surprise me if it was this winter--and not being able to do much makes me anxious, so I've been composing lists of stuff to do. I keep thinking, if this were August, 2019, and I knew covid was coming, what would I prepare? If this one goes off like the scientists think it might, it'll be much worse than covid.
Right now, I'm concentrating on food. My plan is to have enough hunker down supplies by mid-September that if things go bad in the normally-scheduled October-February flu season, we'll be okay simply not leaving the house at all. There are only two of us here now, and if things go bad there may be as many as four (as I have two separate friends I'd push hard to come stay here with us), so I need to make sure we have 4 meals x howevermany days I choose. I'm building up to six months, but I'm beginning the plan at three. While a lot of Serious Prepper lists have pretty generous caloric allowances, the MFH and I eat pretty light, and we're both smaller than the average adult human, which does give us even more squeak room here.
We started out with dry staples--bread flour, AP flour, semolina, rice, beans, pasta, lentils, powdered milk--though I have still to get powdered eggs (I'll dehydrate those myself), more dry beans (I'm going to use up a lot of what we have when I do my canning run for the winter, and so far I haven't been able to get my hands on kidney beans in any decent amounts), quinoa, and one more kind of pasta. Right now we have about 2/3 of what I'd want; we'll be holding things at this level, replacing staples as we use them, and if things look more serious we'll do another big shop and give ourselves additional stock of the AP flour, the bread flour, the rice (which we already buy in 40-50 lb bags anyway, we're Asian), the dry milk.
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Then there's the perishable stuff; yesterday, the MFH and I took advantage of some very nice sales and got seventy pounds of meat for two hundred and twelve dollars. Beef brisket for stew, pork butt for sweet molasses chili, ground beef for hotter chili, pork loin for white bean soup. Still have to get chicken (which was pretty much sold out at our bulk place) for chicken soup (to be pressure canned), chicken and mushroom cream soup (to be vacuum-packed and frozen).
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Very very soon it'll be time to harvest my leeks and my butternut squashes, for leek and potato soup (either finished with cream, blended to a smooth-ish consistency and frozen, or *not* blended down, and just socked away in pressure-canned Ball jars without the cream added; will it take me longer to thaw it, or to take my immersion blender to the hot individual meals later on?) and canned butternut for baking with or making soup or chili or making pasta sauce.
I might can a bunch of just potatoes, too, to keep 'em shelf stable (plus that front-loads a lot of the work of producing a meal later).
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So I need to buy onions and carrots and potatoes and celery and garlic and mushrooms and corn, cream, red wine, tomato paste (because my vines got blight this year, sigh--I've managed to can one single run of tomato sauce and that's IT), ten dozen fresh eggs to dehydrate and powder and store in the fridge in case of egg shortages, several pounds of beans to be thrown into the chilis and...hm...fifteen pounds more, twenty pounds more, to have on hand? And then for non-canning purposes we'll need butter, oil, white vinegar (I've used a lot of it for pickles this year), various Asian food staples like black and rice vinegars, oyster sauce, black mushrooms and so on. As for pre-made, mass-produced foods, I'll probably make another post about them later.
While this is more than I'd generally stock in a single season, I do generally put about 100 quarts of home-canned food by a year, and I never keep less than 75-100lb of flour on hand anyway because of how frequently I make bread. So though it sounds like a lot up front, it's not hoarder level; everything I stock will be eaten, some of it pretty much immediately (the beef stew is so good). And putting it all by now means that we'll be less of a burden on our community safety net, if push comes to shove. When the covid pandemic hit I had dozens of jars of food on the shelf already, which gave me a little peace when things were looking scary. We were able to share some of our stores with people who hadn't had the great privilege of long afternoons spent seeing to the personal stores. That's a better option, to my mind, than needing to panic-shop right as things start getting a little wild.
Basically, if things go bad, we'll have food for a while. And if things don't go bad, we'll have food for a while. It's win-win. And it keeps the floor under my feet when I'm feeling unsteady, to be able to sneak down into the cool, still basement and look at row on row of gently gleaming jars of food security.
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jell0buss-37 · 1 year
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Could I ask for a peter b parker x black!fem!reader where maybe Y/N is the prowler in Peter's dimension and he's friends with her and then he finds out she's the prowler (and perhaps she also finds out he's spiderman 👁👁) and he tries to talk to her
If you don't like the prowler idea Y/N can just be any Villian :))
(This is kinda angsty I'm sorry 😭)
I love this idea! I think it'd be interesting if they were more rivals to begin with and had started to slowly grown closer. And as their super-sonas, they'd always have more playful banter. I also thought it'd be interesting if the reader and him started working together on certain cases and such! I'm writing this while waiting for my tires to get looked at, and this gave me a lot of ideas. I hope you like them!
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He is so goofy I love him <3
You two had known eachother since high school
Neither of you were exactly over achievers whenever it came to academics, but boy were you guys competitive
Nothing really interesting either of you unless one of you were suddenly better than the other at it
Mathematics? You only took AP to spite him
English Language Arts? He yoinked that from you by winning multiple prizes for his short stories.
You were in Theatre, Art, and Auto shop, while he took over Orchestra, Band, and Culinary
Once the two of you graduated, you thought all of this feuding would finally be over
You and your sister lived together and took care of her son, your sister being a cop. She met her husband in the academy, and went on to join the army
You had your nephew, Miles, who was only 2 at this time
You'd spend many nights taking care of him
He was your favorite little dude
Eventually, times started getting tough, Your brother in law going MIA
He was presumed dead
You had worked at your dad's mechanic shop when you got the news
You were quickly by your sisters side
You had moved in by the end of the month
About a year later, you still worked as a mechanic, however due to how tight money was getting, and Miles getting older, you had to take on another job
You met this guy, a doctor at the University
He took you under his wing, and taught you all about robotics
Soon you became the prowler
You'd get these shady deals to do some crimes, smuggling certain weapons, handling affairs with shady politicians
You weren't proud of it, but it kept the cash flow steady.
You soon we're able to move your older sister and your nephew into a nicer neighborhood in Queens, nothing much but a good apartment with a good daycare down the road for Miles
You didn't, however, count on your new neighbors
"(Y/n)??"
You froze in the door to your new apartment
"Peter..."
It was awkward at first, and so you both held this silent agreement that you just wouldn't talk to eachother
Until your sister invited him to dinner
It was... Awkward
At first
Soon you guys were talking about old times, realizing how stupid it was to be feuding in the first place
And soon it's as if you never even hated eachother
He thought it was cool that you were a mechanic now, admitting he actually knows more about cars because of you in high school
He was very sympathetic to your sister and the loss of her husband, even offering to watch Miles every now and then if you guys needed
He was quick to become a family friend, coming over almost every Sunday now
How you two had met as the prowler and spiderman was a different story, however
You had been stealing out a large corporate bank, your Intel being to take a certain actors bank deposit
However, things were quick to go tits up
It appears that some other guys had the idea to rob that bank as well
Just a bunch of guys wearing Halloween masks
Amateurs.
You were quick to crash into the scene, finding them threatening bystanders and taking hostages
Amateurs.
Suddenly, a certain hero had also crashed into the scene, to find you beating up and knocking out a couple of the crooks, sending away the hostages
He was surprised, unsure if you were friend or foe
Either or, he helped you handle the guys
The two of you worked pretty good together, making a pretty decent team
It seemed you were a friend!
Until you went and just grabbed the bank statements, knocking Spiderman out of the building with an explosive you had planted
Okay, you were a foe.
You were gone before he could even collect himself
These little interactions would continue, him always joking and making smartass comments and remarks, you only staying silent
Although he was pretty amusing
Meanwhile, in your civilian lives, things seemed to be going pretty great
In fact, it appears that something more seemed to be going on between the two of you
It starts turning into more one night, when you come home early from a day at your auto shop, finding Peter watching a movie with Miles and eating some snacks
"Hey! Look Miles, your Auntie is back from being a grease monkey!" "Hey, look Miles, Uncle Peter is always a monkey!"
Miles loves you both so much, and was really excited to be tucked in and read a bedtime story to by you guys
You sang his favorite little song to him, the ABCs (don't ask, it's what my mom sang to me as a kid), and finishing it off with My Little Sunshine
Peter watches from the doorway, staring almost dreamily at you while you comfort the little guy
You close the door lightly, standing outside his door with Peter, the two of you joking with eachother for a bit
Eventually, it's about time he heads out, and you walk him out to see him off
He seems to be contemplating something in his head, and he suddenly turns around to ask you something
But you're right in front of him already, your noses bumping a bit, causing your breath to hitch a bit
"Hah, u-uh, I was just thinking, there's that new movie coming out soon, and-"
Your lips are suddenly on his, a light peck to his own
You pull back with a smile, laughing at his dazed expression
"... So is that a yes? Or-" "Yes, Peter."
You two start dating soon after, finding that the times spent together are so much funner whenever you guys aren't fighting
You were worried at first, due to you having to disappear every now and then because of your Prowler duties, and you were worried he would start questioning you
However, Pete was also worried about the same thing
You two didn't even notice that you guys would disappear every now and then to lead your double lives
It wasn't until about 6 months into you guys dating, when you both had come home around the same time covered in bruises and scratches from your previous excursion together
Peter was so worried, asking a thousand questions a minute
Meanwhile he had a black eye himself, and you two were freaking out at the same time
You both had came up with your own excuses
However, you guys started becoming distant since that event, both of you scared at what would happen if your lives got mixed up in eachothers
The break-up was inevitable at that point
You guys avoided eachother for a month, both as your alter egos and as yourselves
You guys were both obviously hurt from this
You had even started to question your work as the Prowler. You decided to put an end to being the Prowler. You were gonna get your Peter back
You were on the way to see the Doc, to give him his things back, a text sent to Peter telling him to meet up
When suddenly there was a collapse on the bridge, and you see spiderman fighting the very same doctor that you were on your way to see
Except now he had... 8 robot arms???
You were quick to suit up, helping out the vigilante that had become your friend
You help anyone that needs it, and even jump in to help Spidy
You both eventually defeat Doc Ock, and your by his side when he's stopping the bridge from completely collapsing
He gets hit with some falling debris, and he's knocked out, along with his mask
You're quick to go and catch him before he falls into the water below you
You get him to a safe place, only to find-
"PETER!??"
You were quick to rip off your own mask, trying to shake him awake
When he comes to, he sees your tearstained face looking down at him
"Hey pretty Lady... I was actually just on my way to see ya!"
He panics when he realized he was in his spidersuit, but you were quick to calm him down
He was... Shocked to find out that his "favorite colleague" was his girlfriend the entire time
"This is great! Now we can be the ultimate smoke show power couple!!"
Yeah, things were going to be great
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