#like oh okay we reliving the memories tonight

[faggotryandtransjesterism]

i somehow managed to live my whole life without absorbing the plot of carrie before i watched it, which was super awesome except that i was very unprepared to watch a movie that was accidentally about my mother tonight

[waitimcomingtoo]

Don’t Dream It’s Over

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you comfort Peeta after a nightmare

Peeta wasn’t the type to wake up screaming like you did, so you never really knew when he was having nightmares. Instead, he’d freeze and stare at the ceiling while he relived the games moment by moment. You felt bad that he was always there to comfort you when you had your nightmares but you were rarely able to do the same for him since you didn’t know when they were happening.

When you couldn’t sleep one night, you left Peeta’s warm embrace and went into the kitchen to get some water. You drank half your glass before pouring the rest into the plants Peeta kept on the window sill. You jumped a little when you heard Peeta’s voice coming from behind you.

“Honey?” His voice was wavering as he stood in the kitchen doorway with the blanket from your bed wrapped around his shoulders.

“Hey, Peet. Did you just wake up?” You asked and went over to him. He nodded his head and immediately broke down. You wrapped your arms around him and held his head against your shoulder as he cried.

“What happened, baby boy? Did you have a nightmare?” You asked as you rubbed circles into his back.

“It was that one where you get pulled off the cornucopia by the mutts and I watch you die.” He whimpered against your shoulder.

“It’s not real, honey. It was just a dream.” You shushed him.

“I know.” He sniffled. “But it felt so real.”

“Come on. Let’s get you back to bed.” You smiled warmly at him and then led him back to your bedroom. It wasn’t often that you got to be the one who comforts, so you really wanted to do a good job for Peeta.

“I’m sorry I have to lean on you like this. I can just go back to sleep.” Peeta said as he climbed back into your bed.

“It’s okay. You’re always there for me. Let me take care of you this time.”

“Okay.” Peeta smiled sheepishly as you pulled the covers to his chin. You tucked him in nice and tight before getting in the bed with him. You leaned on your elbow so you could look at him while he rested his head on the pillow.

“When I would have nightmares as a kid, my dad used to tuck me in and sing to sleep.” You told Peeta as you combed through his hair with your fingers.

“What would he sing?”

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow. A bed of grass, a soft green pillow. Lay down your head and close your eyes. And in the morning, the sun will rise.” You softly sang to Peeta while you continued to play with his hair.

“I love the way you sing. I’ve loved it since I was a kid.” Peeta smiled fondly at you.

“I wish we were friends when we were in school. I wish we got to grow up together.”

“It’s okay. We get to grow up together from now on.” He replied, making you smile. You bent down to kiss his lips before sitting back up.

“I love you.” You told him.

“I love you more.”

“Impossible.”

“High possibly.” He insisted. “I’ve loved you longer.”

“Oh, Peeta.” You sighed dramatically. “That means nothing. Don’t you know how I feel about you?”

“Why don’t you remind me?” He smiled coyly. You returned the smile and bent down to kiss the top of his head.

“I love your golden hair and the way it falls into your eyes when you go too long without cutting it.” You said before kissing his forehead.

“I love your brilliant mind and the way you’re always thinking own step ahead.” You said and then kissed his nose.

“I love how I can always tell what you’re thinking because of how expressive you are.” You continued, and then kissed his cheek.

“I love how creative you are. How you’re always coming up with a new recipe or sketching something from memory. I love that you’re an artist.” You told him before kissing his lips.

“I love that you’re all mine.” You whispered against his lips and then kissed him again.

“You aren’t shy with the kisses tonight.” Peeta said as his face blushed a rosy pink.

“Well you’re hurting. So I’m loving you extra hard tonight.” You told him as you brushed the hair off his forehead. Peeta smiled up at you but sadness soon filled his eyes.

“I’m tired of the nightmares. I just want to sleep through the night one more time.” He said quietly.

“So do I.”

“Do you think they’ll ever go away?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they’ll just get less and less frequent.”

“I fear we’ll we waiting for years before we sleep through a night.” He laughed sadly.

“Maybe so. But the time will pass anyways. At least we’re together.” You shrugged, making him smile. He pulled you down so that your head could rest against his heart.

“Yeah. At least.” He said as he rubbed your shoulder. You draped one arm over his torso and slid the under one beneath his back so you could hold him.

“I wish I could put you somewhere you could never get hurt.” You told him.

“I’d probably still find a way to get hurt.” He chuckled, making you laugh as well.

“Probably.” You smiled and looked up at him. “Do you want to close your eyes?”

“Yeah. I’m getting tired again.” He said through a yawn. You blew out the candle that had been lighting the room and snuggled into his chest.

“You’re so warm.” You sighed and inhaled his scent.

“It’s just cause you make me blush.”

“Why do I still make you blush? We’ve been together for ages.”

“I know. That doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop being the first grader in love with the girl in the plaid dress.” He replied, making you hold him closer.

“Good. Don’t ever stop.”

“Thanks for taking care of me, sweetheart.” Peeta said and kissed the top of us up head.

“Always.”

[phenioxflame]

Monkie Kid- Animal Fury Season 1 Chapter 5- Get away

“I think that’s all for today”, Mischief says. “You did well tonight.”

“You think”, Mk asks.

“You have”, Mischief says.

“She’s right”, Sun says. “Your connection to the moon has grown stronger.”

“We can pick training back up in two days”, Mischief says.

“Cool. See you two tomorrow!” Mischief and Sun look at each other before walking after Mk.

“Hey, Mk? Can we ask you something”, Mischief asks. Mk looks at both Mischief and Sun and said, “Sure.”

“We where wondering… if we could hang out with you tomorrow”, Sun said. Mk blinked a few times and said in confusion, “What?”

“Mischief wanted to see what the city”, Sun blurted out.

“You wanted to go to the city too”, Mischief exclaimed while putting her brother in a head lock.

“Sure”, Mk said. “You guys can hang out with me and the others tomorrow.” Mischief and Sun blink at Mk for a second and said in unison, “Really?”

“Sure”, Mk said. “And the others have been wanting to hang out with you two for a while.”

“Oh… cool”, Mischief said nervously.

“Is something wrong”, Mk asks. Mischief taps her fingers together and says, “W-Well, It’s been almost more than a thousand years since I’ve really talk with anyone. The only ones I’ve really talken to is the cheetah twins and their kids.”

“More than a thousand years”, Mk asks. “That’s a long time.”

“I know”, Mischief.

“Hey, it’s gonna be alright”, Sun says. “If you get uncomfortable, we can leave.”

“Alright.”

The next day, Sun waited for Mischief outside the cave.

“Sorry I took so long.” Sun looks back to see Mischief dresses in casual clothes. “Do I look okay?”

“You look great”, Sun says. “Mk should be here any minute now.” Sun and Mischief looked over to see Mk walking up the stairs. He waves over and asks, “Ready to go?”

“Yup”, Sun and Mischief said in unison. Mk looked at the both of them for a moment and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Yes”, Mischief said. Mk pointed to the top of his head and said, “Your ears.”

“What about them?”

“I don’t mean to sound mean, but the people in the city are a bit afraid of wolves”, Mk says. “So if they see you…”

“Oh… I get it”, Mischief says. “Not to worry, I have the perfect spell for this.” Mischief runs to the back of a rock and says, “Humato emerilis!” Mischief walks out with her fur completely gone. Sun and Mk look at Mischief with surprised looks on their faces. “Well?”

“When did you learn that”, Sun asked.

“A few thousand years ago”, Mischief answered. “Learned it in a week. Now it’s your turn.”

“Wait what?!” Mischief said the spell and a pink cloud appeared aroun Sun. Sun waves his arms around and says in annoyance, “What the hell, Sis?! Are you trying to kill me?!”

“No”, Mischief answered. “But you don’t look too bad as a human.” Sun blinked a few times in confusion and looked in the water nearby.

“Wow, you two could really pass as humans”, Mk said. “Let’s go. I’m sure the others are waiting for us.”

Mk leads Mischief and Sun through the city. Mischief looks in every window and says with amazement, “This city is amazing! It’s so big!” Sun looks back and smiles at his little sister. It had been so long since he had seen Mischief smile of pure joy and happiness. It was like the days they spent back at home in the celestial realm. To Sun, it wasn’t just a distant memory. To him, it was a dream he could relive over and over.

“At least she’s happy”, Sun thought. “Musch more than I could ever make her.” Mischief took Sun’s arm and said, “Look.” Sun looked up and saw a peach the color of gold.

“If your trying to make me hungry, it’s not working”, Sun says as Mischief playfully sticked out her tongue. Mk waved over to Sun and Mischief and he led them down a street.

“This is where I work”, Mk said.

“A ramen shop”, Mischief asks.

“Yup. Pigsy and the others should be here.” Mk opens the door for Sun and Mischief.

“Mischief!” Mei get’s up fron her seat and walks over to Mischief. “It’s good to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you too”, Mischief said. Mischief though she was going to be shy like she normally was around people she didn’t know. But she wasn’t. Infact, she was comfortable around Mei. But her aura felt familiar. But she didn’t remember where though.

“Nice to see you again.”

“You too. Tang? Right?”

“Right on the mark”, Tang says. “Hey, Pigsy! Mk, Monkie King, and Mischief are here!”

“About time”, Pigsy says. “You where suppose to be here an hour ago, Kid.”

“Sorry…..” Mischief and Sun chuckle quietly.

“So you finally came down from the–”, before Pigsy could finish his question, he looked at both Mischief and sun.

“Is something wrong”, Sun asks.

“I’m sorry”, Pigsy said, “Are you still the Monkie King and Mischief?” Mischief laughs; holding her stomach with her right arm and holding he left hand over her mouth.

“So all my jokes can’t get you to laugh but Pigsy does”, Sun says sarcastically. “Your humor is broken.” Mischief takes a few breaths and says, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Mischief takes another breath and says, “I used a spell to make me and Sun look human.”

“You have magic”, Mei asked.

“Indeed”, Mischief says. “Some of them are based around the moon: My element. But I do have the power to change my form.”

“Like Monkie King”, Mei asks.

“Yes, and no”, Mischief says. “I can do some of the magic sun does, but I have my limitations. And now that Mk shares the power of the moon, my powers are a bit… how do I say it….. Weakened.”

“Weakened?”

“My powers, at the start, where below the leven of power it was suppose to be”, Mischief says. “But it’s getting back to it’s normal level so I’ll be fine.”

“Here you go, you two. Two bowels of ramen.”

“Thanks, Pigsy”, Sun said. Sun ate his ramen, but Mischief did not.

“Is something wrong, Mischief”, Tang asked.

“I-I’m sorry, I can’t eat this”, Mischief says.

“Why”, Mk asks.

“I, um, don’t eat meat”, Mischief says.

“Oh, I’m sorry”, Pigsy says. “I didn’t realize.”

“It’s okay”, Mischief says. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Wait, If you don’t eat meat, what do you eat”, Tang asks.

“Veggies, fruits, and beans”, Mischief says. “I eat them instead of meat.”

“Hm… I think I might have an idea”, Pigsy says. “I’ll be right back.”

“Is there anything esle you can do”, Tang asks.

“Are you writing this down”, Mischief asks.

“Don’t mind Tang”, Mei says. “He’s a men of knowledge. He likes to write everything down.”

“Reminds me of HighQ.”

“Who?”

“HightQ is an old friend of mine”, Mischief says. “She’s a historian among other things. She has more knowledge about the history of the celestial realm than anyone else.”

“She must be a very knowledgeable embodiment”, Tang says. Mischief looks at Tang in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“How did you know she was a embodiment”, Mischief asks.

“Is she?”

“Yes! She the embodiment of knowledge”, Mischief exsclaims.

“I’m back.” Mischief looks back and sees ramen with veggitable floating in the broth.

“Whoa…..”

“I changed the meat for veggitables and–”, Before Pigsy could finish, Mischief started to eat her ramen. She swallowed the last of the noddles and said, “Wow, this is so good! Your a great cook, Mr. Pigsy!”

“Why… Thank you”, Pigsy said. “What a second. Did you call me Mr. Pigsy?”

“Yes? Why?”

“Aren’t you older than me? Than all of us?”

“Technecly, yes. But no. I’m a year older than MK.” Tang almost chocks on his noddles and Mk and Mei look at Mischief with confusion. “What?”

“I’m sorry, your a year older than Mk”, Mei asks.

“Yes and no”, Mischief says. “I became Immortal when I was twenty. So if we do the math, I am a year older than Mk.” Mischief looks at everyone and says, “Don’t ask me my real age, I will not tell.”

“Should have told them that before, Sis”, Sun teased while eating his ramen.

“Oh shut up, Sun! You can’t even do math without doing something wrong”, Mischief exclaims. “Or do I have to remind you of the incident, big brother?” Sun stopped eating his noddles and said in annoyance, “I though we agreed to never talk about that again.”

“I never agreed”, Mischief said. “And Ne Zha would agree.”

“Who’s Ne Zha”, Mei asks.

“Ne Zha is an old friend of ours”, Mischief says.

“You mean, your’re friends with the third lotus prince”, Tang asks in excitement.

“We do”, Sun says. “And he’s really stuck up.”

“Don’t listen to Sun”, Mischief continues, “Ne Zha is very old fashioned. He likes to do everything by “The book” if you know what I mean. But aside from that, He’s a good friend. He even taught me how to defend myself.”

“He fights?”

“Yes”, sun answered. “I’m surprised he’s not a–” Mischief covers Sun’s mouth and says, “Finish that sentence and I will end you, Sun Wukong.”

“Your no fun, M.”

“Speaking of fun, you wanna head over to Sany’s place”, Mk asks.

“Sandy… he’s the strong one, right”, Mischief asks.

“Yup”, Mk says.

“Sure. Why not”, Mischief says.

“Sandy, you cat is so cute”, Mischief exclaimed. “Such a cute cat!”

“Thank you, M”, Sandy says. “I think Mo likes you too.” Mischief nuzzles Mo.

“Hey, Mischief?”

“Yes?”

“Is there anything that your brother can’t do”, Mei asks.

“Unfortuantly, no”, Mischief answered. “But there is one thing he can’t really do.”

“And what’s that”, Tang asks. Mischief puts Mo down and walks to the open dock. She turns back and says, “Pay attention, Mk. This will be your next level of your training.” Mischief takes a breath and moves her hands in a chi-like motion. Blue-like magic flows around her body and hair. Mischief does one last movement and her eyes glow. With a proud and reckoning voice, she shouts, “SPIRET OF THE RAGEING WOLF!!!” A blue wolf jumps up to the sky and howls. The magic flows back into Mischief’s being. She takes and breath and looks back at the others to see them in surprise.

“Mischief… that was awesome”, Mk exclaims. “What was that?!”

“That was tai chi of an animal spirit”, Mischief says. “And that was my animal spirit. The Rageing Wolf.”

“And your gonna teach me that?!”

“Yes.” Mischief looks over at Sun, who was star strick. “Brother? You okay?”

“You just can’t help but show of, can you”, Sun says.

“Mad that I can control my animal spirit and you can’t”, Mischief teases.

“I so can! Watch me!” Sun jumps down and walks over to the open dock. “Watch and learn.” Sun takes a breath and moves his hands in a tai-chi moting. His eyes glow a brilliant yellow.

“SPIRET OF THE GROWELING GORILLA!” A glowing yellow gorilla roars and then returns to Sun’s being. “Hah! I told you I could do it!”

“But your movement was sloppy”, Mischief pointed out. “Ne Zha would agree.” Sun grumbles in annoyance.

“When will I learn that”, Mk asks.

“Soon. Really soon.”

“Today was great”, Sun says. “I’m glad everyone was so chill.” Mischief walks a little behind, lost in her thoughts. She had a conflicted look on her face. Mk and Sun noticed that Mischief was being more quiet than usual.

“Mischief, are you okay”, Mk asks.

“Huh?”

“You look distracted. Is something wrong”, Sun asks. Mischief looked down.

“They need to know….”, She thought to herself. “I have to tell them. I can’t keep this from them anylonger. I need their help.” Mischief took a breath and said, “Mk… Sun… there’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been hiding something from you.”

“What is it”, Mk asks. Mischief looks down, her hair covering her eyes, and says, “Over a few thousand years ago, A black leapord named Penance… killed my mentor.” Sun looks at Mischief with shock and says, “Wait… you mean Patients? How?”

“I don’t know”, Mischief says. “She was banished soon after, but I fear she might return.” Mischief takes a breath. “Mk…. I made you my apprentice because… I can’t defeat Penance on my own. I need your help.” Mischief felt herself almost start to cry. She held back that feeling. She had forgotten how vulnerable she could get when speaking her truth. “Please… I need your help.” Sun and Mk look at each other and smile. They knew they couldn’t see Mischief suffer. The duo places their hands on Mischief shoulders.

“Sis, you don’t have to worry anymore”, Sun says.

“We’ll help you”, Mk says. Mischief looks at both Sun and Mk and then smiles.

“Thank you.”

No intro this time. Sorry guys.

[doodleoogles]

The Southern Comfort

Summer 2013

I was awakened by the warm rays of sunlight hitting my face. There's a sharp throbbing in my head and I couldn't feel half of my body. "Where was I?" I thought trying to grasp where my reality is at that moment. Minutes earlier, I was reliving the time before my gramma died. I was in a hospital with her, making sure she gets all the help she needed, I was given another chance to try and save her, I will save her this time. Tears welled in my eyes and I unintentionally opened them.

"You're awake.." a voice said.

I looked around. I was lying in bed, within a slightly messy room (a guys' room definitely), the windows are open with the curtains tied to the side. All the afternoon sunlight is coming in, like a spotlight to my half awake form. A humid air blew when I tried to sit and the hair on my arms stood up. I blinked until I can make out the figure sitting on the chair a few inches from the bed. He's looking back at me with a pair of soft wide eyes, his soft curls flowing on the side of his face. Ahh yes, memories from the previous night started pouring in. We were out in a bar, drinking, smoking a couple of joints and oh yeah, that's about as far as I can remember.

I groaned loudly, pressing my forehead "What the fuck happened last night?"

He laughed and grabbed a bowl from the table where his laptop lay open. A movie was playing in the screen, some old Natalie Portman film. He handed the bowl to me.

My stomach immediately grumbled at the smell of some good ol' chicken noodle soup. "Thanks" I managed to say before devouring it. "Care to tell me now what happened?" I asked again when I was able to catch a break from eating.

He paused the movie and faced me, "Well let's see..." Uh-oh, I tensed. "So we were drinking right? And we smoked, ahhh it is a good kind, I think I may have brought some with me." He grinned, "Anyway, this guy Stephen was challenging us on a drinking spree. I drank a bit but I said I can't drink some more since I have to watch over you cause you...." he playfully wriggled a pointing finger towards me, "You went all out, like chugging drink after another drink of what was that? Uhm Jaggermeister? You beat them all up alright, then you passed out on my lap. Good thing you didn't hit your head on anything."

I cringed at the unpleasant mental picture in my head "Oh God..."

"Stephen was actually teasing me." he continued, leaning backwards on his chair and focusing his gaze on the laptop screen. "He said boy you so getting laid tonight." He said it so casually, without any hint of malice in his voice. "You wouldn't wake up, I even had to carry you up here. I slept after tucking you in." He played the movie and let me finish the noodles in peace.

I started to think what kind of relationship we have. We never talk about it and I will never be the one to ask. Sometimes I think he may be bisexual or even gay as he has never shown any interest in trying to have sex. I mean yes there was some making out and I sleep in his room but that's just about it. I really do like him though. I guess I'm okay with hanging around for a bit until he realize we can be something else. I enjoy his company. I like waking up in his room after getting wasted the night before. I like knowing I will never be taken advantaged of in my drunken state. I like the soup he gets me for my hang over. I like the hot afternoon in the South where he lives, the humidity and the breeze coming from a nearby lake.

During my free time on weekends, he would usually ask me to tag along with his friends. We'll go outside when the weather isn't too hot anymore. We'll meet up his friends to skate at a nearby park then grab some beers after. In the evening, we will pick some random movies to watch in his laptop and fall asleep beside each other. Time almost stood then.

February 2024

Why am I reminiscing an 11 year old memory? Well, a few weeks ago, he messaged me out of nowhere. I mean we remained friends of course, like when we occasionally bump into each other on a gig, we still talk and hang out with other common friends. We didn't end badly, hell come to think of it nothing was ever official anyway so damned if I know when exactly it ended. It just did.

He moved on first. I spent months trying to get over missing his place and his friends from the South. Damn believe it or not, I even missed the humidity there. We didn't communicate for a long time, I knew he had a girlfriend eventually and they were together for years. I've also moved on since then.

Now he just popped up on my messenger on a random morning while I'm at work. I responded casually. He really sounded like wanting to keep the conversation going but 1. I am busy, 2. I want to keep everything entirely casual. We don't need to be talking and messaging each other everyday like we did years before. Out of curiosity, I checked his Facebook and I no longer see the girl anywhere on his profile. Huh, guys and the things they do out of boredom.

When I put my phone aside, my mind reeled back to 2013. I may have never gotten the clarity I needed on who I was to him before but I don't think it ever mattered. We were young, it had been fun, and neither of us has any regrets. We had something good back then and it's a memory worth keeping. However, among all things, that's where it should remain.

[blooming-violets]

Before we begin, I need you to know that I am so happy right now. It's a very fleeting and strange emotion for me to chill with but it's here tonight and I'm enjoying it and I'm glad I spend a part of it while reading your delicious words.

I'm gonna do an old play by play reaction because I miss those and I need you to know my every thought the second I am having it.

Okay, first of all, it's hard for me to wrap my head around the fact this is our Peter and Honey back for more. It makes me wants to do my happy butt wiggle while I cackle up at the ceiling. My sweet precious babies are back. Oh how I have missed them. What a journey they have been on. What a moment in time that was. Pure perfection.

>>> your trip to pound town? 🍆🍑 

Ooooh Felicia I have missed you, too, bby.

Peter swallowed hard. Tried to rid his expression of any hint of impatience or irritation. 

Bitch you do not get to be impatient or irritated with this woman ever again. If she wants to make you wait all night long at a restaurant without ordering anything than you better put a lil smile on your stupid face and do anything she says for the rest of time. You owe this woman everything.

who didn’t expect to be subject to “este cabrón” and his picky girlfriend

I audibly snorted when I googled the translation of that. Yup. That's Peter for sure.

When Peter approached her earlier that afternoon in the park, he’d expected a much worse welcome.

Wow. It is like RIGHT RIGHT after. Not even a time jump or nothing! You're giving the girlies everything they wanted and more. (It's me. I'm the girlies.)

Which flowers say, ‘I apologize that the last conversation we had, I called you a whore in front of a room full of cops’?”

WAS THAT THE LAST CONVERSATION THEY HAD BEFORE HE LEFT I DONT EVEN REMEMBER omg i need to reread everything and live through that emotional trauma all over again

a cotton ruched-waist, tea-length gown in a yellow gingham pattern. It featured a sweetheart neckline that cradled her breasts perfectly between the halter tie-back straps. 

Two things that you always do better than anyone else (well, actually you do everything better than anyone else but shh) is your detailed descriptions of clothes and interiors. I feel like I could show you any outfit and you could write a perfectly, elegant description of it in way that just makes it come to life in your imagination. I miss your descriptions of Peter's mansion cabins and penthouses and luxury hotel rooms and every single sexy outfit he or Honey ever wore.

Truthfully, he needed her to come home.

I would like to know if this man has cum at all in the past four months. He either gets off by reliving his memories with her and then cries himself to sleep afterwards OR he punishes himself by refusing to even cum without her there. A masturbation ban as punishment for his deeds. And I hope it's the latter because I need him on the edge of his seat about to burst simply from the sight of her.

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Hmm. Six hours. Long time to wait.” Her eyes fell down to the menu again. Her lack-of-sympathy said everything.

I. MISSED. THIS. BEAUTIFUL. AMAZING. WONDERFUL. WOMAN. SO. MUCH. He deserves everything he's about to get in this fic and he better take it all with a smile and a thank you. I need dom Honey back in my life asap.

>>> the fuck? what do you mean?  >>> she was in love with you b4... how hard can it be to take her on a date?  >>> christ. did you fuck this up, parker?

He is, Felicia. He is. Maybe Honey and Felicia should date instead. That'd be hot. I'll write an au fic of your au fic.

>>> don’t get all crazy possessive either

It's too late, Felicia. Your man is losing the plot. He's spiraling! Pedro was all it took to unravel his delicate ego!

“Did you think you were gonna shave your face, take me to a fancy dinner, and then I’d just... open my legs for you?”

I miss the beard already.

“Big bad mob boss—all that power—and yet, you couldn’t just talk to me? You had me wait around for you like a stray dog! You can just come and go as you please, but you—you expect me to follow you around on a leash?”

.........it might be kind of hot though

This:

He should break down the fucking door. Throw her over his shoulder and tie her up. Gag her—Anything to get her to listen.

To this:

Fuck—He was going to cry.

Is the most perfect representation of Sugar and Vice Peter. A man who is emotionally stunted and repressed vs the woman who makes him feel all the emotions at once = a little bitch. A beautiful little bitch who I want to chop up and eat with a fork until there is nothing left.

Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, she was on him like a viper.

Yeeeessssssssss that's my girl! Hate fuck that pathetic man!

Immediately, he was met with an open-palmed slap on the cheek.

There’s my girl.

Peter snatched her by her shoulders and slammed her back into the wall, pinning her there. She went feral—hissing and raging at her entrapment.

Is feral Honey better than dom Honey?? Idk who I like more!

Apparently, he wasn’t the only beast in the room.

I think the "will they fuck" or "will they kill each other first" is my favorite thing in the entire world. I need the hate and anger and the passion and fact that they both can't physically resist each other to swallow me whole. I want to drink it up and pour it over my skin. I want to live here forever.

He dipped deftly, his spine bowing back, narrowly missing the bowl as it whipped past him. The object barreled through a crystal chandelier, glass shattering like raindrops as they came down.

The dude in the hotel room across the hall who's hearing all this and unsure if he should call the cops or start furiously masturbating:

but mostly with indignation that Honey had somehow destroyed $1,000 worth of the hotel’s tchotchkes in a few seconds. 

That's his girl!!! Woo!

“See, if I were a jealous man,” he noted with an evil sneer, “I woulda gouged his eyes out with a salad fork.” 

I got so sucked in that I forgot to comment on things because I was too busy holding my breath and biting the fuck out of my knuckle as I lapped up every word. But, yes, I would like to see a fight between Peter and Pedro Pascal because that would be v sexy. and I would like to see him gouge out his eye with a salad fork because that would also be very sexy and Pedro would probably look hot with an eyepatch. Ok let me get back to the sexiness and try to remember to breathe.

Honey felt drunk off of the vitriol he poured into her ear. It was violent and possessive... and it shouldn’t have made her so horny, and yet—

Girl, me too, I feel ya.

It was like a mask had fallen away, and the man on top of her transformed into a different person. Maliciousness evaporated, replaced by eagerness. Desperation. 

god damn I am having a roller coaster of emotions tonight wtf bringing me up and down like this what gives you the right how dare you fuck you ily

like reminding her of a forgotten dream

it feels like forever ago omg the start of something beautiful and horrifying and sexy and dark and enchanting AND THAT WAS ALL YOU LIZ ALL YOU. YOU DID THAT.

“...Pedro.”

I wish you could have seen how wide my eyes got and the purely evil that spread across my face.

“Think that’s funny?” he said through gritted teeth.

Yes. She's hilarious.

“If you ever call out another man’s name when I’m inside ya again— I’ll make ya wear nothin’ but my cum for the next week.”

Fueled by devotion usually only reserved for a wedding day. 

ok but imagine what their wedding day/night would look like??? fuck getting Honey a dress just have her walk down the aisle butt ass naked because we all know that dress wouldn't survive the night. it would be an overly expensive, handcrafted, one of a kind beautiful dress and Peter would have it in shreds

Jesus Fucking Christ, he’s talking about my pussy? In the third person? 

babe i wouldnt be surprised if had a name for it with that way he worships her

She wept and squirmed, practically drooling on the table.

I think I'm drooling over here, too.

This was wrong, he reasoned. Not how he wanted this to go. Poor girl sounded brainless, begging to be fucked.  He wasn’t much better off. This wasn’t how he planned this to go. 

A little late for that train of thought, Pete.

And god, she'd forgotten he was thick.

Oh please you know she hasn't forgotten a SINGLE DETAIL about this man's cock

“Not until I’ve said what I shoulda said—!”

NOW?? AS YOUR BALLS DEEP WITH HER ARMS TIED BEHIND HER BACK AND HER FACE PRESSED AGAINST A TABLE AWAY FROM YOU?? NOW IS THE TIME YOU CHOSE?!

They stayed still for eons. Nothing but their breaths and heartbeats between them, eyes locked on each other.

and her arms tied behind her back. having a heartfelt conversation. i'd expect nothing less of them.

Then another. He was going to fuck her into submission atop the throne he built for her. She was already his queen.  Then—He’d make her his whore.

The mob boss wife of his dreams

But not right now. Not while Peter Parker stood ass-naked outside of his door, having been kicked out like a cheap fuck. 

You deserve it, you little whore. What I wouldn't see to witness him doing the walk of shame out of Honey's hotel room.

The nerve of this woman. This goddess-barista who served him his soul in a paper cup. Who held the keys to his heart, his home, and presently, his hotel room. Who somehow managed to kick him out of the penthouse suite of his own hotel. 

What can we say? The man is in love.

>>> DO NOT FUCK HIM!!1

THE MASTER MANIPULATOR. I feel like Felicia is out here playing dolls with these two dumbasses. Pulling the strings of fate to mash them together.

ugh

perfection

I missed you. I missed your writing. I missed your characters. The way you write is so captivating. It draws you in and holds on tight and never lets you go. It sticks around with you long after you've gone. I'll be 100 years old and on my death bed croaking out to my nurses "Hey do you remember Honey and Peter? Remember when they used to hate fuck and it was the most romantic and filthy and deep and heartfelt and smutty thing you'd ever read?" And they'll be like "okay katie go into the light please"

and I will die happy.

love on the brain: sugar & vice, vol 2 [mob!tasm!peter x fem!OC]

summary: You didn’t think it was going to be easy, did you? AKA The night Peter and Honey reunited—Four. Months. Later. [mob!peter parker x oc!MJ] 

words: 11.8k (omfg)

NSFW/MINORS DNI - ABANDON ALL CHASTITY, YE WHO ENTER HERE (detailed warnings below)

extended warnings (spoilers): p^rn with plot, detailed smut, really just... filthy and deranged. slightly dubcon parts (although consent is clearly confirmed), no Y/N...ever, arguing, anger, jealousy, physical violence (slapping, scratching, throwing objects), almost hate sex, fem!reader with a vagina and breasts and wears a dress, oral (f! receiving), P in V, rough!dom Peter, sub!reader, possessive!peter, mirrors, titty!worship, shame and slight degradation, use of emojis, f! being restrained, discussion of masturbation, slight breeding kink, non-consensual voyeurism, moderate BDSM kink, “punishment” play (spanking, edging) bratty reader, peter parker being a dunce around women, mob!au, furniture harmed in the making of this

names used: daddy, princess, baby, babygirl

A/N: This is a one-shot standalone story that takes place immediately after the Epilogue of Vol 1. And serves as the official beginning of Vol. 2. If you haven’t read Vol.1, you really should. The main OC is AFAB and goes by the name “Honey.” You’ll need to read Vol. 1 to know why.  I try to be loose with my descriptions for people who prefer a Reader-Insert. But I’m not perfect. In this canon, Honey has a Latina heritage (as do I). Take that as you will. Thanks to @moonyslove78 and @blooming-violets for cheering me on through this very long hiatus. 

This is 18+ AF. And if you think the term ‘AF’ shows how old and out of touch you are, then you’re probably not old enough to read this.

This version of TASM Peter Parker is not canon. The relationships here are not healthy and the characters need therapy. Don’t date a mob boss IRL.

#1 - Love on the Brain

>>> heya boss. how’s your trip? 😜

Peter arched a brow as he peeked down at the text message.

>>> ⋯ >>> your trip to pound town? 🍆🍑 

He rolled his eyes, swallowing back an irritated snort.

Real mature, Felicia. 

He almost tapped out a haughty reply but stopped. Corners of his mouth turned down, he found himself unable to respond.

“So many choices. I just don’t know what I want.”

An understatement.

The girl of his dreams sat across from him in the quaint East Harlem Cuban restaurant. They were crammed together at a bistro table near the kitchen. The enormous menu took up the entire surface, and she had spent the last 25 minutes reading the items aloud. 

It was nearly 11 p.m., and they had yet to pick an appetizer. 

The woman he’d called ‘his Honey’ sweetly sighed with a shrug. “Now that we’re here, I just can’t make up my mind.” 

Her voice had a singsong tune to it, purposefully careless. Blissfully ignorant of the fact that Peter was starving.

“Maybe I’m just not feeling Cuban food tonight,” she shrugged, nonchalant.

Peter swallowed hard. Tried to rid his expression of any hint of impatience or irritation. 

“Oh,” he remarked delicately, thinking of all the different dinner reservations he’d made for tonight. It didn’t matter what magazine talked it up, didn’t matter how many “tire awards” it had won. 

Honey was unimpressed. 

“M’surprised,” he said, as emotionlessly as possible. “Thought you had your heart set on this place.”

The place was one of those hole-in-the-wall joints that had less than 10 tables, which made takeout the most popular choice. 

On this night however—a Tuesday— the restaurant was nearly empty, except for the overdressed couple and the loathsome kitchen staff, who didn’t expect to be subject to “este cabrón” and his picky girlfriend strolling in 30 minutes before closing. 

While Peter could feel the heat of their ire over the oven, Honey avoided it. She explained to the manager that Peter was “un ricacho que tiene demasiado dinero.” And with that, they were seated.

When Peter approached her earlier that afternoon in the park, he’d expected a much worse welcome. He nearly died of a panic attack when he spotted her on the park bench. It had been four long months since he’d attempted to communicate with her, and he half-expected her to throw her iced coffee in his face. 

Actually, he had no idea what to expect from her. Terrifyingly.

Peter had lamented to Felicia— “There’s no card that says, ‘Sorry, I ghosted you for a few months while attempting to shake the heat off my back.’ Which flowers say, ‘I apologize that the last conversation we had, I called you a whore in front of a room full of cops’?”

The true challenge came when Peter actually looked into her eyes. He didn’t expect that one look would render him useless. 

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Ethereal. Glowing. The human equivalent of a bouquet of sunflowers, with happy round cheeks and her hair tied back in a ponytail. She was the color of rainbows, and summer, and sunshine. She was the cherries of her red lip stain and the golden rays of her yellow linen sundress.

God, that dress. 

Peter planned for everything—but not that dress. 

His carefully rehearsed speech went out the window when he saw her in that dress: a cotton ruched-waist, tea-length gown in a yellow gingham pattern. It featured a sweetheart neckline that cradled her breasts perfectly between the halter tie-back straps. 

He had no idea where that dress came from, but it was the most perfect piece of fabric ever to grace a woman’s body. He would buy her twelve more of them, no matter the cost. He’d buy every last one.

He’d give her the sun, the ocean, Hawai’i, and all the stars in the sky— if only she’d forgive him. He was ready to throw himself on a bed of hot coals as long as it meant that she would take him back. If she would come back home.

Truthfully, he needed her to come home.

Not to get ahead of himself, he started by taking her to dinner. 

That was Felicia’s advice—women love dinner. solves everything. the fancier, the better, with lots of red meat—u know how they say food is the way to a man’s heart? dinner is the way to the ovaries. works every time.

Actually, Felicia gave Peter lots of advice. For once, he was more than grateful to accept it. 

>>> make her feel like you can’t take your eyes off her. but don’t stare. like a creeper  >>> be a gentleman, but not a pushover. you wanna be the good guy. soft YA novel boyfriend type

Followed quickly by—

>>> but not too soft! don’t be a little bitch. if she plays hard to get, you play offense.  >>> and defense.

Peter had no idea what she was talking about. But he knew when it was wise to trust the advice of more intelligent creatures than men.

Five restaurants later...

“I thought going to dinner was your idea?” Honey asked with pursed lips.

“It was; it was my idea,” he nervously replied. “Six hours ago—it was my idea.”

She narrowed her eyes to slits. “Hmm. Six hours. Long time to wait.” Her eyes fell down to the menu again. Her lack-of-sympathy said everything.

Peter’s pocket buzzed again, and he glanced down at the incoming text message from Felicia.

>>> ...???? 

He rolled his eyes. Tapped out a response.

<<< Not great.

“Am I interrupting something?” Honey asked with a clipped tone.

Peter jumped, pocketing his phone immediately. “No, just... just something... silly,” he muttered. “How ‘bout we get a few plates in, yeah? I’m gonna just order some stuff—”

“Like what?” she questioned skeptically.

“I don’t know,” Peter shrugged, his stomach twisting. “One of everything.”

“That’s wasteful,” Honey said, judgment sharpening her gaze. “Food waste is bad enough as it is in this city.”

“Well, at this point,” he snapped with an exasperated sigh, “I might be able to eat two of everything.” The words floated away from him, and he bit the inside of his cheek, wishing they would come back. Hesitantly, he made eye contact with Honey.

She peered at him disgustedly from over the top of her menu. She scoffed, crossing one leg over the other, and dropped the leather-bound book closed. 

“Don’t let me slow you down,” Honey said icily. “I’m not that hungry anyway.”

Peter’s eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. His pocket buzzed again. 

>>> the fuck? what do you mean?  >>> she was in love with you b4... how hard can it be to take her on a date?  >>> christ. did you fuck this up, parker?

He shoved the phone back in his jacket, nearly punching through the silk fabric. 

“If I’m wasting your time, tell me,” Honey sharply retorted. She crossed her arms even tighter across her chest. He had to force himself to look away from the way it plumped her breasts together. “I’d hate to keep you from something important.”

Felicia was right. He was fucking this up. Before he could open his mouth—

“Excuse me, señorita,” a masculine, smoky voice crooned at them. 

Peter and Honey glanced up to see a chiseled man in his 30s approach the table with a hurricane glass of ice. He was a specimen of Latin American art—a bronzed statue, with carved muscles that bulged out of his floral shirt. Deep brown eyes—no, hazel eyes— fixed on Honey as he reached across the table with rolled-back sleeves. The corded muscles in his arm, toned by long hours of hard labor, flexed gracefully as he gently set a cocktail in front of her. 

A frosted, colorless liquid speckled with crushed mint leaves filled the glass. Honey blinked with delighted surprise.

“Our compliments,” the young, disgustingly attractive waiter explained with a sultry smile and a thick accent. “In case you found yourself thirsty while browsing the menu.” 

A blush colored her skin as she glanced up at their handsome waiter. The sparkle in her smile was as blinding as ever, and she graciously looked back between the glass and the server.  The waiter— no way in hell this fuckin’ guy is a waiter— beamed back at her, enamored. 

“Oh, wow!” she gasped, reaching for the glass with dainty fingers. “Is this a mojito? That’s my favorite! How did you know?”

The waiter graciously chuckled. “Lucky guess. You look like a woman of refined taste.”

Peter felt his blood pressure rising.

Honey didn’t even look at her date, as if he was suddenly invisible. “Thank you,” she grinned, self-satisfied. “I mean, I do know my way around a Bacardi bottle.” The waiter chuckled, maybe too hard, at her silly joke.

“We want you to enjoy your evening with us,” the waiter added politely, sparing Peter a glance but keeping all his attention on Honey. “We are honored to have you as our guest.” 

The waiter spoke gentlemanly as he splayed his long fingers across his chest. “Please, take as much time as you need. No need to feel rushed. It is my pleasure to serve you.” 

Peter could feel a twitch behind his eye. Could have been the fire shooting out of his eyes. Fuck this prick, probably another Broadway reject or somethin’, couldn’t buy himself a decent shirt—His mind churned along with his anger.

Oblivious, Honey beamed up at him with a golden smile. “Thank you so much for saying that,” she replied, endearingly sweet. “You are too kind, um... I’m sorry, what was your name again?” 

“Pedro.”

Honey’s brows shot to her hairline. “Pedro?” she repeated, absolutely delighted. She glanced over at Peter. “Isn’t that something?”

The mob boss’ lip curled mirthlessly. “Oh, it’s somethin,’ alright.” 

Peter continued to burn his stare—fuck his stupid accent— into the side of the aloof waiter’s head. He wondered if Pedro’s handsome, chiseled jawline was sharp enough to cut through a noose.

Buzz..

>>> you’re keepin’ your cool, right?  >>> remember what i said.  >>> anything she wants. no questions asked! >>> don’t get all crazy possessive either

The joyful sound of her laughter ripped his attention away from his phone and back towards his charmed date. 

“Pedro,” she sweetly preened. “Can you give us a recommendation?” She briefly flashed her eyes at Peter before looking back at her new friend. “My date’s clearly distracted. He has no idea what I like.” 

Oh? Peter raised a brow at that. And lost his appetite.

Peter followed Honey down the hallway to his hotel suite while storm clouds swirled in his gut. Lighting crackled with each footfall. Tension clogged the atmosphere, and they shuffled in a silent fog to the door.

Despite Felicia’s advice about controlling his inner beasts, Peter’s hackles were raised, and his stomach growled. Now, he was hungry for more than just food. And simultaneously, he’d never felt so powerless. 

Peter noted how tightly she wrapped her arms around herself. Her face suggested she was deep in thought. He wondered if she was just as tightly wound as he was. Wondered if she could break his heart with just a look.

He was flailing. Pathetic.

Peter’s fist clenched his keycard tight. He had to be careful not to snap the card in half between his fingers. Was it from excitement or terror? Desire or rage? 

He had to focus, to make this work. He had nothing if he didn’t have her. 

Rigidly, Peter pushed the door open and stood to the side of the frame to let her enter. 

She paused briefly, lips tight, as she gazed into the rotunda entryway of the lavish suite. They hadn’t spoken in the car, and he hadn’t had the chance to explain the location. 

Letting out a steady breath, she strode through the threshold and stopped. Her body blocked the doorway. She turned to look up at Peter, defiant eyes flashing.

“This is as far as you go.” 

Peter blinked, looking at her in confusion.

Her tone was curt. Icy. He recognized that sound. It was the tone of voice she used when she wanted to draw blood, and it never failed to inflict pain. Her voice. Her eyes. Even her tongue was razor-sharp.

Peter curled a brow upwards. “Sorry?” 

Honey narrowed her eyes. “Not yet, you’re not.” 

He took a step back, blinking owlishly. 

“What did you think was going to happen tonight, Peter?” The ire of Honey’s question sliced through him. “Did you think you were gonna shave your face, take me to a fancy dinner, and then I’d just... open my legs for you?”

A literal ellipsis formed in his mind. 

Peter swallowed hard. “Uhhh—?”

“‘I’ll wait for forever, Honey,’ she parroted his earlier admission mockingly. “Is that all you have to say to me? You left me! For four months!”

Peter nodded his head, not sure exactly why or when he began. “I know, I know...”

“You know!?”

The walls of etiquette and politeness between them began to crack.

“How many times I gotta tell ya? I was tryin’ to protect ya, Honey—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

It stung like a snake bite. Rage filled her eyes, disdain bubbling out of her mouth. She had only just begun. 

“You buy me all this expensive bullshit!” she scolded. “And you dress up in your ridiculous designer suits and parade me to all these fucking pretentious places! Like I’m some kind of accessory! Like you own the whole fucking city and everyone in it!”

He replied with a string of noises. Or, at least, he thought so.

“Big bad mob boss—all that power—and yet, you couldn’t just talk to me? You had me wait around for you like a stray dog! You can just come and go as you please, but you—you expect me to follow you around on a leash?”

“Honey, please. Let me explain—”

“I don’t want to hear it, Peter!” her voice echoed through the rotunda and down the hall of the hotel. “I don’t want to hear a single one of your lame excuses! I don’t want a fancy dinner, or a new Porsche, or a mansion, or whatever else makes your dick hard!”

Peter blinked rapidly, stunned. His body responded as if she had just kicked him in the place she referenced, “Jus’lemme—”

“And I sure as hell don’t want another apology!” she asserted definitively. “I don’t want you anywhere near me!” 

Peter’s jaw hung open, tongue dead in his mouth. The woman who barely stood at his collarbone stared down at him, making him feel inches tall. 

“Now, I’m going to bed. Exactly as I have been for the last four months.” Her voice thundered, “Alone!”

With that, the door slammed in his face, rattling inches from his nose. The echo reverberated through the empty hallway and inside his chest, emphasizing the deep crack that formed.

Peter let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. The shock subsided slowly, and his heart sank. The ache soon sizzled into a burn, boiling his blood. At the same time, the sting of her rejection was raw. Unbearable.

Unbelievable.

Absolutely unacceptable. 

He should break down the fucking door. Throw her over his shoulder and tie her up. Gag her—Anything to get her to listen.

Haplessly, Peter’s eyes fell on his expensive shoes—his Valentinos. Or maybe these were the Tom Ford’s? He had no clue. Just more bullshit.

Fuck—He was going to cry. Maybe he should let himself just do it. Lean into it. Drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness. Shoulders slumped, he squeezed his eyes closed. 

He was a little bitch.

Peter pictured a door closing on a rocket or an airplane. Whatever it was, it was leaving him behind. He was falling back to Earth, having placed too much faith in miracles. This was his punishment for flying that close to the sun—

The door swung open. 

Two hands grabbed Peter’s jacket, pulling him forward off his heels. It was a surprisingly fluid motion; his heartbreak had reduced the mass of his bones to nothing. 

Honey’s nails practically pierced his lapels. She yanked him through the doorway into the suite, slamming the door behind him, and slamming him into the door right after.

Before Peter could open his mouth to speak, she was on him like a viper.

A sharp, biting kiss swallowed him whole, stealing the oxygen from his lungs. The heat was as intense as he had remembered. This time, they didn’t melt into one another. Honey was like a wildfire, her touch scalding him. 

His skin flushed from the sudden unbearable heat. Before he could react, her lithe fingers started tugging the edges of his jacket. Clumsily, she tried pushing it back over his broad shoulders. As soon as he knew of her intent, he eagerly obliged, shrugging the garment off and to the floor. 

Her hands went to his throat, ebony-painted nails leaving trails on his skin. Buttons popped as she yanked on his clothes. Her goal could have been to draw blood with her kiss.

Every time her teeth tore at his lips, he responded with a groan into her mouth.

Clumsy, he fumbled with his fingers—reaching up to grip her by the hair. Finally, he wrenched her head back, detaching her bite from his face.

Immediately, he was met with an open-palmed slap on the cheek.

Sharp gasps cut through them, and they jumped backward a few feet. Tension and shock reverberated in the chasm they created. Like the barometric pressure plunging before a storm, an eerie calm settled over them. 

Honey blinked at him, jaw agape and her palm throbbing. 

Peter glared at her in silence. He looked a mess—hair unkempt, the top buttons of his shirt torn open to reveal jagged crimson scratch marks across his milky skin.

His heartbeat steadily increased as he gently dabbed his fingertips at the ache in his jaw. The exquisite lines of his face were stained pastel pink, flushed by arousal or anger. His eyes were black as night, so it could have been either one.

She looked just as wrecked. Dress askew, her hairstyle half-unraveled. Goosebumps dotted her skin. She looked shocked at the violence she was capable of, surprised and possibly guilty at her own strength. As the seconds passed, the feelings faded.

Peter watched her, pupils dilating, blood pressure rising. The shadow of a smile curved his mouth. His features darkened into something primal. Something familiar.

There’s my girl.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, studying her threatening look until his own expression began to match.

Physically, his senses were haywire. Danger, excitement, and a sick sort of pleasure rattled his bones and labored his breathing. The hairs on his skin stood on end. Alarms blared in his head. The sound of his own blood was almost deafening to him, thumping like a kick drum. 

Peter could hear her heart, too. Fast. Like a rabbit. He was a wolf in pursuit. 

Maybe the pain of her slap triggered him, a preemptive action against further attack.

She got one in, Peter mused mockingly. He knew she was no match. Not as Peter’s night vision sharpened. Not while he could taste the salt from her perspiration on his tongue. Most intoxicating of all, Peter could smell her desire. Like a rose bursting open.

In another blink, they switched positions. Peter snatched her by her shoulders and slammed her back into the wall, pinning her there. She went feral—hissing and raging at her entrapment.

Not a rabbit. A honey badger, then.

“Get off of me!” Honey spat.

“Shut up,” he ordered. Quiet and fierce.

Fingers gripping her forearms tight, he attacked her lips, teeth colliding. The ferocity stunned her. For a moment, it seemed like she finally submitted to him before she wriggled her mouth free.

“Mmffucker—Let me go!”

His body might as well have been a brick wall. His face was stonelike, eyes just as cold. 

“No.” 

Honey’s brow scrunched up like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. “I’ll scream!” she countered.

Peter smirked, the hickory in his eyes igniting. “Baby. You have no idea.”

Peter’s guarantee sent a shiver down Honey’s spine. He saw the gears turning in her mind as she carefully considered pushing him further. 

He hoped she would. 

His fingers tightened around her forearms. He crucified her under his gaze. And yet, despite the danger anyone else would have felt... A glimmer of curiosity flickered in her eyes.

It set his mind reeling. A tiny sign of weakness to temptation made Peter’s stomach trapeze. He zeroed in on it, licking his chops. 

Not to make it easy, Honey brought her knee up, attempting to make contact with his groin. There was nearly a foot of difference between their heights, and she paid it no mind.

Brave girl. 

Peter admired her tenacity. She had balls. Smart, too, he pleasantly recognized. Honey went for the weak spot first. Good call. 

Pointless, though. 

Nothing below Peter’s belt was weak when she was around.

Unfairly, Peter picked up on her attack before her leg was even bent. He snatched her above the knee, lifting her toes off the ground and prying her thighs open. 

He pictured the bruises on her skin that his fingertips would leave behind. Just the thought made him rock hard. 

A year ago, Peter would have been ashamed. He would have shied away from her, for fear of repulsing her, and took out his frustration by himself in the shower. 

Grinding his teeth at those memories, he pressed Honey’s hips into his waist, forcing her legs around him, and—Fuck—her heat.

Peter’s brain nearly short-circuited. She was like a bonfire against his belly. His cock pushed against his trousers, straining for her warmth. He secured her hips to his with a tight grip, which only pissed her off more. She thrashed, enraged. 

She really needed to stop doing that. It only made the burn worse. 

A few months ago, Peter would have been ashamed of the rush he felt from manhandling her. Ashamed of how his cock ached and twitched at her fruitless tantrums.

“Fucking asshole!” Honey sneered.

“Yeah?” he said with a bitter laugh. “You're a spoiled little brat!”

“Fuck you!”

“See what I mean?” Peter scoffed, holding her tighter. He breathed hotly into the shell of her ear. “Not even a ‘please.’” 

His pride was short-lived. Inexplicably, Honey arched her neck and buried her teeth into his shoulder. He roared—“Fuck! What the fuck!!??” —surprised she didn’t bite through the silk of his collared shirt.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only beast in the room.

They tumbled down ungracefully. Peter landed hard on his back, with Honey crashing on top of him. She collapsed on his lungs, knocking the wind from his chest. Sputtering, he reached out to grab her, his fingertips barely missing the hem of her dress. The small woman scrambled to her hands and knees, then to her feet. 

Honey dashed into the suite while Peter’s voice echoed—“Goddamnitareyacrazy!?”—after her. 

Padding on her toes, she ran into a darkened living room with vaulted ceilings that might have been large enough to fit her entire apartment. Outside glass walls, the Midtown skyline surrounded her. The Metlife and Empire State Buildings glittered proudly in a breathtaking view.

The room was situated in the corner of the building. Velvet curtains framed the floor-to-ceiling windows, providing an unobstructed view of the city. The Dark Academia-Meets-Glam aesthetic seating area featured a sleek, modern leather sectional and mod velvet chaise lounge chat set. 

Without time to admire any of it, she scrambled to the first piece of furniture she could reach. She grabbed the first thing her fingers could find—a designer fruit bowl centerpiece made of polished stainless steel and brass pomegranates. 

It was exquisite and expensive. 

Honey spun on her heel and flung the heavy metal at Peter.

He dipped deftly, his spine bowing back, narrowly missing the bowl as it whipped past him. The object barreled through a crystal chandelier, glass shattering like raindrops as they came down.

“Hey—!” he scowled, facing her with an indignant glare.

A moment later, he quickly shielded his face from another flying object: an asymmetrical crystal-and-Riverstone candelabra that crumbled against his forearm. It might as well have been a brick, with ceramic shards tumbling off of his shoulder. 

Peter bristled in aggravation, brushing the pieces off. Now, she was really pissing him off.

He glanced up just in time to see a glass vase containing two dozen roses—meant to be her gift—hurtling towards his head. Reflexively, he snatched it from the air with one hand, water and all. He palmed the crystal vase like catching a baseball. Didn’t spill a drop. 

His quick reflexes stunned the both of them. Peter’s jaw went slack—partially at his ability to save the flowers, but mostly with indignation that Honey had somehow destroyed $1,000 worth of the hotel’s tchotchkes in a few seconds. 

“Enough!” Peter barked, carefully setting the vase down. Ignoring him, the woman darted toward another side table, already reaching for another expensive object to throw at him. 

Suddenly, Honey’s ankle was caught in a sticky grip. Both legs pulled out from beneath her. She flattened immediately with an ooof—her belly dropping to the wool carpet. 

Dazed, she glanced back at her legs with a crease in her brow. With a jolt, she was pulled along by a stringy, spongy substance on her ankle. It felt the way canned compressed air feels when shooting skin at close range. 

Her nails dug into the carpet fibers as she was dragged back. “Agghhh! What the—Getitoff!” 

As soon as the pulling stopped, Honey was on her back again, gazing up at the sharp lines of Peter’s cold gaze. He towered over her, even on his knees, as he mounted her hips. Protesting, she pelted him tirelessly with her fists.

The smell of sweat loomed in the air as he finally restrained her. He caged her in, pinning her wrists to the floor. Nerves buzzing and tempers flaring, she continued to writhe and wrestle with him to no avail. Peter quickly overpowered the more petite woman, fomenting her anger. 

“You’re hurting me!” she sneered breathlessly, teeth gritted. 

Peter was unimpressed. “Liar.”

“M’not lying—!”

He glared back, barely breaking a sweat. “You’re so full of shit—!”

“Fuck you! What do you know—?”

“I know you, Honey!” he charged, silencing her. 

She went still, subdued beneath his dark gaze. Peter loomed over her like a stormcloud. “I know the games you like to play,” he said—both teasing and sinister, toying with his prey. He lowered his lips until they breathed the same air. 

Honey’s focus was split between Peter’s intense stare and glistening, kiss-ravaged mouth. She tried not to notice the sensation of her nipples brushing against the fabric with each labored breath. He could easily reach down and touch her. Tried not to focus on how solid his chest felt against hers, like carved marble. Tried not to focus on the dark chocolate of his eyes melting in the heat of their gaze. 

Just as intensely, Peter watched her watch him—zeroing in on the idle way her tongue darted to wet her lips. The tiny action shot electricity down his spine, straight to his groin. 

Honey felt that, too. A tiny gasp escaped her, her lashes fluttering. The fight suddenly left her arms as she noticed the heavy bulge against her hip. 

He was hot. Not just figuratively. Feverishly hot. He was so hard, too—and just for her. The lewd image of him splitting her open on his cock made her insides clench. 

Peter eyed her dangerously, his voice a dark abyss. “Think you can hide it from me, eh?” The teasing smile on his lips bordered on a snarl. “Gonna sit here an’tell me... that if I were to reach down between your legs right now...�� Her heart hammered in her chest, hanging on every word. In her mind, she was begging him to follow through with the threat. “...Those panties won’t be soaked?” 

Honey failed to swallow back a little mewl as he leaned down closer.

“Ya think I can’t feel ya, huh?” he mumbled, lips ghosting the curve of her throat. “Think I can’t smell how wet you are right now?” Another wanton exhale left her belly as she leaned into the heat of his breath on her skin. “Y’know I can already taste you on my tongue, babygirl.”

Honey’s mouth and legs seemed to part further at his vulgar words. She shivered at the sensation of his slick tongue traversing her pulse point.

“You’re... an asshole...” she murmured breathlessly. She sounded half-asleep.

Peter hissed, “And you’re a needy little slut, aren't’cha?” 

The sudden ferocity made her eyes unintentionally roll back. A second later, Peter’s fingers collared her, choking off the small mewl in her throat. He turned her by the chin, wrenching her attention to him. 

“Hey—Eyes on me,” he commanded.

Mesmerized, Honey blinked up at him like a fawn.

“How ‘bout that little stunt you pulled with the waiter?” he prodded. There was an icy edge on the last word. Her throat bobbed while she kept her face neutral. The bright amber of his glare penetrated her. Peter continued accusatorily, “Those flirty little giggles while he gave ya fuck-me eyes? Y’think I didn’t see that?”

Honey sniffed, stiffening her upper lip. This was a power move; she knew better than to back down. “Look who's jealous,” she scoffed. 

With a jolt, she again attempted to wrench her wrists free. He simply held on tighter, closing his talons as she twisted like a snake.

“Jealous?” Peter repeated calmly, narrowing his eyes into slits. “Me? Nah.” His hands suddenly seized her hips as he forcibly jerked her up off the floor. A slew of profanities spilled from her mouth, bucking against him as he carried her.

In a few strides, he was at the edge of a dining table. With little regard for his barbarity, he plopped Honey on the surface, shoving her flat on her back. Peter arched over her as if to dominate her, spine bowing until he filled her periphery with his fierce gaze. 

Honey’s eyes sparkled, cheeks colored from the rush. “Threatened, then!”

Peter’s face softened inexplicably. Blinked at her for a moment, head tilting. Then, he landed an open-palmed smack against her ass. 

It was a surprisingly heavy blow, as close as he’d ever come to intentionally inflicting pain on her. Honey yelped, hissing from the sting on her upper thigh. Right after the strike, Peter’s fingers began kneading her flesh, soothing the welt that was bound to form.

“See, if I were a jealous man,” he noted with an evil sneer, “I woulda gouged his eyes out with a salad fork.” 

Peter swallowed up her gasp with a forceful kiss. A few moments later, he broke away.

“If I felt threatened?” he added breathlessly, “I woulda bent you over the table and fucked you dumb. Let everyone in the Five Boroughs hear you beg for my cock.”

Once the filth rolled off his tongue, Peter went back to using it to lash against hers. Honey was overwhelmed by the soft, wet muscle invading her mouth. Not only that, the violent edge to his words felt like standing in a river and grabbing a livewire. A shiver racked through her body, a current of pent-up anger and desire sending blood rushing to her core.

As if on cue, Peter’s fingertips made contact with the lace fabric between her thighs. She tremored at his touch, heart skipping. He toyed with the soft, stretchy material. Snapped it lazily against her flesh.

His voice was hypnotizing. “I woulda shoved these dirty panties down his throat just to never hear his stupid fuckin’ accent again.”

Honey felt drunk off of the vitriol he poured into her ear. It was violent and possessive... and it shouldn’t have made her so horny, and yet—

Honey trembled with anticipation, panting like a bitch in heat. “I-I... can’t... ugh, fu—” 

The pads of his fingers ran firmly along her seam. She let out an embarrassing whine. Peter's prediction was spot-on. A shameful amount of wetness coated the inside of her thighs. He played with the soaked fabric and smeared her mess across her skin with a smug smirk.  

“Think I don’t know what you like?” he muttered darkly, echoing her earlier jab. 

RIP!

The lace bunched at her waist. Honey’s wet skin felt particularly chilled being exposed to the air. She quivered with anticipation. Her head was spinning, pussy throbbing. She felt worshiped and simultaneously defiled. 

Peter pressed his forehead into hers, skin-to-skin. She stared into the black of his eyes in suspended silence, like the pornographic thoughts in his head were being projected into her mind.

Her own pupils were blown black. “Fuckin’ hate you so much—”

“I don’t care.”

“—re’such an asshole—”

“I don’t care,” he repeated more firmly. Then, “You belong with me.”

“You left me!” she fired back.

The sharpness of her tone sobered him a little. He blinked and sighed. “I couldn’t leave you. I didn’t leave you.”

She attempted to sit up, trying to lift her shoulders unsuccessfully. She writhed with spite, “Fuckin’ selfish prick, I outta cut off—”

“What was my drink order?”

He blurted the last sentence out with a mind-blowing level of calm. At once, their bodies went still. Still pinned to the table with a hummingbird beneath her breast, Honey stared up at him in confusion. 

Her brows pinched together. “Huh—?”

“My drink order,” Peter repeated, his expression void of the aggression he had the previous moment. 

It was like a mask had fallen away, and the man on top of her transformed into a different person. Maliciousness evaporated, replaced by eagerness. Desperation. 

Peter stared at her, intently searching her gaze. “At the shop,” he whispered, eyes soft. “What you used to make for me every time I came t’see you..?” The words fell away as he stared at her expectantly. 

She arched a brow. 

It had been black coffee, bitter and dark. Just like Peter’s entire world. How it had always been. Until—

“You said I should try something new,” he added, with urgency like reminding her of a forgotten dream. “So you made something for me—something... special.”

Peter’s heart swelled through his eyes at the last word. Honey stared up at him, perplexed. He was looking for the answer on the tip of her tongue:

Honey and Lavender. 

Confusion ceded to aggravation. A line formed between Honey’s brows.

“You remember, right?” he asked, hopeful.

She did. He knew she did. He could see it at the corners of her eyes, pooling behind her eyelids. Sobering memories flooded her, cooling the heat between them. A different sort of ache settled in.

Reluctantly, she nodded.

He took a breath, relieved but still anxious. “Say those words,” he said, “if you really want me to stop.”

Her damp lashes fluttered as Honey blinked up at him in surprise. Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, he swallowed dryly. His stomach lurched at the thought of being sent away like this. 

Still, it was a risk he had to take. 

“I can let go, walk away,” he offered tenderly. “Right now. No questions asked.” Each word felt like sticking needles through his tongue. He gave her an out, needing confirmation that her reciprocated lust wasn’t imagined. 

“Say the words,” Peter whispered in lament, “and I’ll leave you alone.”

That word settled like a boulder crushing his chest.

Despite Peter’s heart telling him her rejection would be unbearable, the thought of truly harming her was more so. 

Honey studied him with thoughtful eyes, contemplative and curious. He had won. He subdued her. Restrained her. She remembered when he threw a piano like a toddler throwing a toy truck. 

She could do little to stop him if he wanted to force her. And yet—

There he is. 

This was the man she remembered. The one that was ready to die for her. To die by her hand, if that’s what she wanted. 

“Two words,” Peter sighed, his nose brushing against hers. It was a sweetly affectionate gesture. “Say the words, and this can end right n—”

Honey captured his lips, stealing his breath like it was her only source of oxygen. Static filled Peter’s ears, his body tensing and relaxing simultaneously. He was soaring and plummeting. Rising and falling. 

Her tongue slipped past his lips, dragging along the pad of his mouth. Soon enough, the sweetness melted off in their flames. 

Honey pulled her mouth away, barely able to get out her plea. “Touch me, Peter. Make me feel it.”

And she dove right back in. This time, Peter plunged with her, deep beneath the waves of lust. He sank into her current, dragging her with the tide of desire.

Peter’s hands were frantic travelers. Flitting from her wrists to her shoulders. To gently cup her face. To smooth over the mounds of her breasts. To dig his fingers into the linen fabric of the sweetheart neckline.

“Love this dress,” he idly mumbled between kisses, abusing the neckline. “Mmm—where’d ya say ya got it?”

“Oh…uhm—?”

The question caught her off guard. She blushed, brain foggy with lust. Her instinct was to say something like ‘thank you,’ but her tongue fumbled the words. “Uh... it was, I think, Old Navy—?”

A ripping sound shocked her. She squeaked as a flurry of cotton fibers burst from the top of the dress. 

Peter yanked the linen bodice apart like tissue paper, his tongue chasing away any protest from her lips. Gooseflesh broke out as her skin was exposed to the air. Driven by lust, he shoved the ruined material down to her waist. 

“Fuck, Peter...” she gasped, scandalized.

“Sorry,” he muttered, not sorry.

It was his turn to be greedy. Peter dug his hands beneath the cups of her bra, toying with the peaks of her breasts. 

With a snap, the bra was torn in half. The strength in Peter’s long fingers stunned her. Puzzling her as much as it turned her on.

He laved at her left breast with his tongue, drawing an obscene moan from her. His hand pinched sadistically at her right nipple. The delectable sting traveled from her chest to her cunt. She arched—”ughhh, god”—her spine bowing beautifully.

He held the cleft of her left breast delicately in his hand while lapping at the ridges of her peaked flesh. Warm tongue caressed the tip, drawing shapes and discovering pathways to her pleasure. Every little flick inspired something new. She cooed and twitched beneath him. He was desperate to memorize her taste. 

Languidly, he massaged each of her tits inside his mouth, his cock aching as he imagined licking her pussy with the same fervor. It was almost unbearable. A strangled moan vibrated through his chest at the picture in his mind. 

Her reaction to the sound came out as an agonized mewl. 

Oh.

He needed more of that sound.

Peter felt her push on his shoulders. Trying to wriggle away from his mouth. 

This time, he had no tolerance for misbehavior. He grabbed both wrists and forced them above her head. Honey yanked back, stunned at being glued down to the table surface by his palms. 

The peach of his pouty lips curved upward as his eyes took a turn ravishing her. She was a sight of wicked debauchery. Her hair was a mess, and her nearly-naked body lay across the table like a feast. Her thighs locked around his hips.

He used one hand to rub circles into the delicate skin of her restrained forearms. The other hand mischievously dipped lower and lower, sliding through her wet heat. Calloused, dexterous fingers spread her lips open, playing in her slick and prodding her tight hole. 

Honey was finished. Ruined. Past the point of no return. Unconditionally surrendered. Helpless and eager to subjugate herself to her conqueror. Filthy sounds filled the room, punctuated by weak cries from his new loyal subject.

“So pretty,” he sighed breathlessly as he coated his fingers in her cream. “All this for me, princess?” He cooed at her, edging on cruel.

A broken gasp fell from her lips, her chest pulsing involuntarily. 

“Aww, what’s the matter? Does this little pretty pussy ache, baby?”

A vortex formed deep in her belly, dragging her in. He licked his dry lips, salivating at the image.

“I know it hurts, baby, I know. I know,” he teased. “It’s been hard playin’ all by yourself, huh?” The sunniness of his voice was eclipsed. “All alone. Screamin’ out my name into your pillow. Fingers buried deep in your wet cunt.”

Honey’s eyes snapped open. Before she could respond, the breadth of his middle fingertip penetrated her. She gasped as his finger speared her open. All the while, he wore a devil’s smile.

“Ain’t that right? Only for me.” Entranced, he watched her every twitch and shudder. “This pussy belongs to me, doesn’t it?”

It was a question feigning the need for her confirmation. She couldn't answer. Couldn't breathe. 

No, that can’t be right—had he been watching her masturbate in her apartment? Was he watching her the entire time he was gone? 

The possibility enraged her. Ten orgasms from the King of New York’s Underworld couldn’t even quell that fire.

Peter smiled wickedly, playing with her pussy. Taking his time toying with her flesh. He was a tyrant-king, dominating her pleasure. With a calloused hand, he held onto her cunt like it belonged there.

But she was his wild colt. Difficult to break.

“Oh-n—ohh god,” she gasped. Unbeknownst to him, an evil plot bloomed in her brain. Her lips curled into a smile.

“Fuck—gah—ohhhhh…”

He licked up each broken syllable.

“Yes! Oh, god, yes! Oh—” 

Sweat beaded on her chest, sin oozing through her pores.

“...Pedro.”

Halt.

Brakes squealing. Full stop. Not only in the physical world between them but also in Peter’s living fantasy.

Mischievously, Honey’s grin widened. 

She got him, alright. 

Flawless victory.

Dark eyes flashing, Peter withdrew his fingers from her. “Fuckin’ brat…”

In one fluid motion, Peter flipped her over to her belly, stunning her. He followed with another forceful slap to her ass cheek. This one was more punishing than the last, drawing a puppy-like yelp. His voice was ice. Eyes black. 

Now, she was in trouble.

“Think that’s funny?” he said through gritted teeth.

Peter manipulated her limbs like a rag doll. He maneuvered her forward until her cheekbone pressed against the table. She panicked for a moment at being in such a compromising position. 

The chill of the air across her wet pussy made her shiver. At the same time, she clenched at his roughness.

Peter kneaded her sides, pressing fingerprint bruises on her waist. He yanked her hips towards him until her knees were on the table’s edge. Honey’s face burned, stricken with modesty and flustered by how he hoisted her ass in the air. 

Her hips were propped up like a rack of lamb, and he licked his lips at the sight. It was too vulnerable, being bared to him like this. Obscene, on display, inches from his face. 

For a half second, she considered using the safe words. 

She squirmed uncomfortably while her mess dripped down the inside of her thighs. Peter denied any attempt to escape, eventually gathering her limbs and pulling her hands behind her back. 

Short puffs of breath fogged the glass surface of the table. Her heart pounded beneath her. Honey had only witnessed this side of him a few times—and never directed toward her. 

She was in trouble. But was she in danger?

The buckle of his belt clinked as it came free. Honey quivered at the sound, pussy aching in anticipation.

And if she was in danger, why did that make her wet?

“Pete—” Honey muttered, a scream bubbling at the back of her throat. Leather nipped at her forearms as he used his belt to tie her hands behind her back. 

“Ple-please—“

He fisted her hair, rearing her head back. Her neck arched beautifully, her chin dangling above the table surface.

“Listen to me, princess,” Peter snarled, hot in her ear. Spite peppered his tone. “If you ever call out another man’s name when I’m inside ya again— I’ll make ya wear nothin’ but my cum for the next week.” 

The savage tone contrasted with the glow of his eyes. 

It was always opposites with him.

This was the same man who coddled and worshiped her. The same one who kidnapped her, drugged her, blindfolded her, and gagged her. 

He forced her, a willing participant, into his bed—by asking her permission. 

Peter was more than capable of keeping her chained to his bedpost if he wanted it. 

Or… if she wanted it.

Peter snickered at her expression. “Ooh, yeah… Betchu’d like that, huh?” He taunted her like she was broadcasting her dirty thoughts. “Such a needy little slut for me, ain't that right?” 

Honey felt his warmth leave her back, like being plunged into the Hudson in winter. His hands reappeared at the back of her thighs, and her first instinct was to try to close her legs. 

That was a mistake and an impossible endeavor. 

He split her thighs like opening a book. Grinned at the sight as if he stumbled across gold.

“Fuck, babygirl, you’re soaked. Just talkin’ about it and look at the mess you made…”

Embarrassment and want ravaged her. The conflicting experiences had her ovaries twisted into knots. Honey bit her tongue, unsure if she was going to scream or moan. 

Instead, it came out like a pathetic mewl. “Pe-Peter, please—”

Then he open-palm-smacked her cunt, fingers landing directly on her labia. 

The wet sound it made was humiliating, and the sensation triggered all of the reactions above. She squealed at the sting on her folds. This was a delectable torture. For Peter, it was an appetizing sight. 

“Ya like that?” he grinned over the sound of her whimpers. He already knew the answer.

Another slap to her cunt made her whole body shake. 

“Like bein’ my kept girl? Tryin’ so hard to get my attention. Drivin’ me nuts. Well, you got it now, Honey.” 

Slap. 

A third strike had her pussy clenching. Honey had never experienced such an erotic rush before. She shuddered with embarrassment, afraid she’d cum from this—

Slap! Slap! Slap!

Honey gasped for air, a scream breaking through her voice. She was drowning in sick pleasure, tears in her eyes.

The mob boss gripped her thighs again, pulling her knees off the table and lifting up the weight of her lower half. The action was as easy as lifting a sheet of paper. 

God, his strength was impossible. She struggled to comprehend it while picturing herself being broken apart by it. A slew of tiny pleas fell from her lips. She didn’t even know what she was begging for—his mercy or punishment.

“Shh, shh, babygirl,” he purred with a candy voice. Brought his lips to where she was split, equal parts seductive and sinister. “Be still for me. I gotcha.” He wore a Cheshire grin. “Lemme kiss it better.” 

Slowly, he licked a line from her clit to the entrance of her cunt. She shuddered, followed by a lewd wail. She bucked her hips as he let the tip of his tongue toy with her. 

“Mmmf—so fuckin’ sweet,” Peter mumbled between languid strokes around her vaginal gate. His grip was inescapable. “Can’t help myself, s-sooo hungry…”

Honey felt an evil smile against her skin before his mouth went back to work on her. Tiny, stinging nips and kitten licks tormented her flesh. With her hips locked in place, he lashed her clit with his tongue.

Honey squirmed against the leather belt, her nails digging into the grain. She wanted to be bound like this forever. 

Peter had no intention of letting her go any time soon. 

With her thighs spread open, he dragged her toward the edge of her ecstasy. As soon as he felt her body begin to shake, he pulled away. The punishment ended with another smack to her swollen clit.

Honey cried out in frustration at having her release snatched away. 

Oh, yes—He was weak for that sound.

“What’s’a matter, baby?” he smirked with a dark chuckle. This was becoming his favorite pastime. “You mad now that you’re not the only one who can play games?”

“Gahh—Peter… fuck, plea—don’t tease—!”

Peter’s fingers slipped inside with a squelch, shutting her up. Simultaneously, he lapped at her juices while massaging her walls. Soon, he settled into an unbreakable focus.

Each kiss to her nether lips sizzled with passion. Fueled by devotion usually only reserved for a wedding day. 

“—mmmm, tastes so pretty,” he murmured into her flesh, “my pretty girls...” 

In her dazed state, Honey wondered with a pang of jealousy who the ‘she’ he was referring to was. 

“—sooo sensitive; she likes it when I kiss her like that, yeah?—” He said, in between languid, open-mouth kisses to her slit.

Jesus Fucking Christ, he’s talking about my pussy? In the third person? 

Honey gasped, scandalized at the preposterous thought. It was the most deliciously erotic moment of her life. Enraptured tears budded her eyes, the coil in her belly nearly suffocating her.

“—Fuck, oh god, Peter, don’t stop, don’stop, donstop, donstah—”

Preoccupied with his own intoxicating thoughts, Peter was eager with his tongue and steady with his hands. The room filled with the filthy, wet sounds of his carressing and French kissing of her cunt. He pleasured her with his fingers and mouth, passionately— reverently— as if making love to two different brides. 

Soon, Honey’s pleas were barely more than breathless whining. He smiled like the devil, lips coated with her slick. 

“Patience, Honey,” he admonished, sing-song and patronizing. “If you’re a good girl, maybe I might let you get to taste Her, too.”

Fuck—she was going to come from this. 

The more perverse his words were, the closer she was. So, so close—

Then, another sharp slap. 

Honey wailed, fingers digging into the leather of her restraints. Her whole body protested. The cycle repeated so many times she lost count—until her flesh was puffy from his torture. 

“Please, don’t—please, Peter, don’t tease,” she frantically begged, tears streaming. “No more— Please, I wanna come so bad—” 

He sucked on her clit.  “Yeah?”

“God, yes, please—Nyahhh-need you—Need you... inside—“

Peter hissed behind his teeth, struggling to keep his pace even as his cock jerked at her pleas. He flashed an evil smile. “S’at right?”

“Pl-please, f-feels so good, ple—gah-I need it—!”

He was in no hurry. It was almost greedy, the way he ravaged her. His fingers pressed Merlot bruises into her hips and waist while his mouth left raspberry welts on her thighs. 

Honey cried out around a moan as she felt his fingers deepen. His loving touches to her sensitive spots turned wicked, reminding her this was also a penalty for her bratty transgressions. She wept and squirmed, practically drooling on the table.

He simply grinned.

“—Mmmhm, that’s it—scream for me, princess—”

Honey’s tiny little hip thrusts fit easily in his palm as he groped her. He found it adorable, really.

“Mmm...m’sorr—ow—agh!”

“Sorry’s not gonna cut it,” he panted, eyes blown black. Shadow returned to his voice. “You’re mine now, ya hear?” His eyes traveled to where his fingers were buried to the knuckles. “Gonna fuck you every way I want—”

“Pleasepleasepleaseyes—it’syoursit’syoursallyours—”

His eyes swam over her body, drunk with lust.

All mine. 

The sinfulness of his thoughts tugged his insides into a vortex. This was wrong, he reasoned. Not how he wanted this to go. Poor girl sounded brainless, begging to be fucked.  He wasn’t much better off. This wasn’t how he planned this to go. 

But he was willing to pivot.

Hands shaking, he fumbled with his fly. It wasn’t until his cock bobbed free, glistening with precum, that he felt any sort of relief. Peter grabbed her hips and lifted them off of the table, repositioning her so he was lined up with her slit.

“Fuckin’ need you so much, Honey—” he muttered mindlessly, focused on pushing the swollen, leaking crown of his cock against the silk of her pussy. 

Her hips’ weight rested easily in his hands, and she keened at the sensation of his head pressing against her entrance. 

And god, she'd forgotten he was thick.

Honey tensed up, even as her pussy throbbed with want. It was as if all her muscles were reaching for him, heart included.

It was too much. Mascara trailed faintly down her cheeks. Her heart soared. And ached. She felt spoiled with pleasure, delighting in this penance.

More. She wanted more.

“Fuck—wanted ya so bad,” Peter mumbled, watching his cock slip through her lips. He sounded airy, hypnotized by the view. “Wanted t’crawl through your window like the goddamn—ahh— boogeyman... fuck ya in your own bed. Wanted t’take’ya home with me and keep ya there— Never let you leave.”

Honey swallowed back a sob. Then why did you send me away? 

He paused. 

Uh-oh. Did she say that out lo—?

“Because I’m an idiot,” Peter huffed, his voice fragile. 

He leaned forward and lovingly kissed up her spine, each tender press of his lips an apology. 

“I’m a stupid fuckin’ fool.” The heat of his breath ghosted across her back. “So stupid—Thought I could protect ya if I kept you away. Thought I could somehow live like that—without you.” He shook his head. “Goddamn fool.”

Peter felt the sting of tears flooding his vision. Instinctively, he squeezed his eyes shut to keep them out. “I can’t live without ya,” he nearly whimpered. “There is no life for me if you’re not in it.”

“Peter,” she said, feeling her heart lurch. Her spirit was a ship being tossed in a hurricane. One more wave, and she would break. Honey’s voice trembled, “St-stop t-talking—”

“Not until I’ve said what I shoulda said—!”

“If you don’t shut up and fuck me in the next five seconds—”

Peter cut her off by pulling her up by the shoulders and standing her upright. Honey fought it—because, of course, she did—desperately clutching the steel armor around her heart. 

Overpowering her again, he tugged the naked woman closer until her back lined up to his chest. It was an awkward position with her bound arms crushed behind her against his abs. He towered over her, eyeing her face from the side, seeking her gaze. Hooked a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to look him in the eye. 

Always the fighter, Honey tried to wrench herself from his hold. Peter’s body was like a Greek god’s, with pillar-like arms and marble fingers keeping her from wriggling away. But his soft, soulful eyes are what pinned her in place. 

As soon as she peered into their oaken color, she was trapped again. 

“No,” she sneered, shaking her head. The tears weren’t from pleasure anymore. “Don’t—”

“‘Honey and Lavender,’” he whispered, featherlike. “Those are the words. All you gotta do is say ‘em, and I’ll stop.”

She gritted her teeth, bucking against his sweetness. His arms wrapped around her torso, pulling her in.

“I thought you wanted to fuck me!” she revolted, voice getting weaker by the second. “What the hell do you want from me, Peter?!” 

His features softened. Serenity pressed between his lips. “I want all of you, Honey,” he answered with resolve. “Body and soul. Wanna spend the rest of my life with ya. If you don’t kill me first.” 

He said the ‘if’ part with a teasing lilt in his tone and a half-smile. The same smirk that she loathed—and fell in love with. 

Honey squeezed her eyes shut. Peter’s thumb came up gently, wiping a messy tear from her cheek. That loving and pure act was worse than any torture he could inflict.

Walls tumbling down, her body loosened. She went slack against his arms, instead fighting to keep more tears from flowing.

“I love you,” he whispered, pouring his soul into each word. “Forever. Remember? No matter what.” 

Peter waited for her eyelids to peel back, revealing glossy eyes and a weary expression. They stayed still for eons. Nothing but their breaths and heartbeats between them, eyes locked on each other.

“Even if you’re mad as hell at me,” he added. “Even if you hate me—I want it all.”

Her lower lip wobbled. “And what then, Peter? What now?”

A moment passed. He leaned around her shoulder, bringing her chin close, and answered her with a kiss. Gentle at first, his tongue explored hers as she relaxed against him. She felt her toes leave the ground before she realized what was happening.

Peter broke the kiss. “Now?” he breathed into her hairline. “I’m gonna show you what it means to be mine.”

One of his hands left her torso—borrowed to push the head of his cock into her gate. An overwhelming burn erupted between her legs. She arched her back away from his abs as best she could while being split open.

Honey wailed brokenly, voice shattered, as he bottomed out. Peter’s hand instinctively came up to cover her mouth. She let the scream out into his palm, just as he’d promised.

Peter hissed, letting his head fall back in agonized ecstasy. His eyes drifted shut, feeling both relief and torment buried to the hilt in her warmth. 

He barely ground out, “Shh-shhh, s’alright... that’s it, s-so good, so good for me...”

His Honey was already writhing on his cock, and he hadn’t even begun to move. She was so goddamn tight he wasn’t sure he wanted to move at all.

Still, he couldn’t help indulging himself. Never could, around her.

The arm bracing Honey’s torso snaked back across her body. His hand, burning hotter than a branding iron, stretched out and smoothed over the curvature of her belly. Her pussy clenched tighter as his palm found the trophy he was looking for—an obscene bulge in her lower stomach.

A slow, sinful curve played upon his lips. “Fuck, babygirl. Look at you.” When he uncovered her mouth, her roars had quieted down to a wanton purr. He gently tilted her head downwards so she could witness the depravity herself. “Just look at how you take my dick, Honey.” 

She shuddered at the sight, nodding rapidly, unable to speak. She wondered if this was just more teasing, but she couldn’t think beyond the penetration. 

“God, you look so beautiful like that,” he muttered breathlessly. His amber eyes were fixated on the sinful spectacle beneath her waist, unable to avert his gaze. “So pretty with my cock stuffed up inside your tummy...” 

Peter sounded unhinged, even to himself. His abs twisted into knots. Vile, perverse images eclipsed his sense of decency—her body naked and wrecked, with his seed spilling from her holes. Then, her belly round with his children. Just the thought devolved him like his civilized nature was sucked back into a black hole.

Wordless whimpers poured from her lips as her taut muscles succumbed to his girth. Calloused fingertips reached further down, brushing against the hood of her clit. She jolted in his arms with the slightest touch.

At that moment, Honey’s world disappeared. Nothing existed but the exquisite ache between her legs. 

The conquerer inside him preened. “Is that the spot? Is that where it hurts, baby?” he purred into her ear with a filthy, predatory voice. Her body answered him, rewarding him with a delicious squeeze around his shaft. “That’s it,” Peter groaned, insatiable. “Good girl. So good for me.” 

His praise, even if it was teasing, was too much. Peter’s affirmations, paired with his ministrations, tightened the coil in her stomach. Exhaustion crept up on her body even as the bubble of desire swelled.

Ever so slowly, his hips pitched back and then forward. He bottomed out again at the end of the languid stroke. A shattered mewl burst from her lips, pussy pulsating around his dick.

She was magnificent. 

”Fuck, baby. Feels s-so fuckin’ good—ahh, I missed this tight pussy so much. Wanted to play with her so bad…”

Peter’s hips moved of their own accord. They were a pornographic masterpiece in the decorative mirrors situated around the room. He stole a greedy glance at the couple’s reflection. Smiling wickedly, he turned her head, making her see what he was seeing.

Honey’s stomach fluttered at the sight of her body—glistening and restrained—slotted against him. Her head bobbed as Peter gripped her hips and fucked into her like a sex doll. 

Perverse. Debauched. Divine. It made her lightheaded.

Slowly, he increased the pace of his thrusts, panting into her ear. At some point, she started muttering. Broken and embarrassingly desperate pleas and pet names tumbled unwittingly out of her mouth.

One of them must have caught his attention. But she honestly couldn’t remember what she had said.

“Ugh—I lose my fuckin’ mind when you call me that name,” he growled, throwing his head back. “Ya know that, precious? Such a good girl for me. Good girls get spoiled.” 

Honey’s body thrummed at his baby talk. In all its depravity, she started to suspect what she must have said in all its depravity. Slowly, she was losing the ability to be ashamed.

The slick-coated pad of Peter’s thumb circled her clit, before traveling down further. He curiously prodded where they were joined—“Fuck, look at how good ya open up for me.” — His fingers trailed the outline of her stretched hymen wrapped around his cock.

Honey closed her eyes and turned away, blushing from his praise. Timid about how she relished in the filth. Peter brought his lips to her ear as if there was a secret the two of them shared.

“Don’t worry, baby. I gotcha—Daddy’s gonna make the ache go away.”

The spring snapped. She was nearly knocked over by the wave of pleasure that followed. Her pussy fluttered around his cock with no warning, body trembling and toes curling. Her cream gushed down his shaft. 

He snickered as if he’d won a prize. 

Honey could vaguely recognize her pathetic voice through the bells in her ears. She squealed and cried out over his repetitive, patronizing chants — “Awwgoodgirl, fuckin’ so-so perfect— squeezin’ me so tight” — while he fucked her through her orgasm.

It felt like several moments of pure pink haze, herself a willing victim to his delicious, relentless pull. 

“Shit, sweetie, did you just come all over my cock?” he asked, exasperated.

Embarrassment flooded her despite her persistent mewling. 

“Don’t cry, baby. Don’chu worry,” he murmured affectionately, himself obsessed with the cavern of her divine flesh. “When I said I was gonna make you my toy, I meant it.” She whimpered, nodding her head as it rested back against his shoulder. “M’not finished with you,” he said, dropping an octave. “Not by a long shot.”

Time ceased to have true meaning. Peter rammed into her steadily.

“Please don’stop, please use me, please, wan’more—” She yelped like a puppy.

He smiled against her sweaty skin. “Yeah? Ya like bein’ a good girl? My good girl?”

“I’llbegoodI’llbegoodm’yours—fuck—yoursyoursyours—”

“That’s right, sweetheart,” he groaned, with another curse beneath his breath. Eyes drifted shut. “Good, good girl.”

All he could think of was more. 

More of that sound. More of her juices. More of her staccato breaths as he fucked her tits into a steady bounce on her chest. More of her whining, whimpering like a bitch in heat.

“All mine, all mine…”

Peter needed more of her. He needed to watch her fall apart on his cock again. Honey was so close already; he could feel it. He’d give her another orgasm, one that leaves her in tears. Then another. He was going to fuck her into submission atop the throne he built for her. She was already his queen. 

Then—He’d make her his whore.

Flip her on her back against the table—or couch— countertop—fuck, maybe the bed if he could remember where it was. Whatever he could reach first. 

Then he’d split her open again on his cock. That way, he could see the enraptured awe on her face. The neediness. Big, round, wet eyes pleading for his touch, calling him filthy names, as his cock bulges below her pubic bone. Begging him to rearrange her guts.

It was heavenly to witness. Peter loved watching her come. And he would, over and over. Once he relocated her to his bed—as soon as he remembered where it was— he could tie her to it.

Not that Honey was fighting at the present. There was no fight in her body, except maybe the will to keep conscious. With every strike against her cervix, she spread herself wider for him. 

But Peter knew she would like it. Honey wanted his unforgiving ecstasy. To take out the mounting frustration of the last few months on her wet pussy. 

“M’gonna fuck you so good, babygirl, m’gonna use your body like my fucktoy—make me feel s-sogood, don’worry—“ 

Honey full-body shuddered with a sob, her head thrown back against his shoulder. 

“S’okay, baby, you can scream if y’want, makes it feel better, doesn’t it, huh—”

Cock-drunk, she nodded, her words coming out as puffs of air.

“Don’stop—don’stop—please, fuck— fuckmehardDaddyIneedit—“

Oh. 

More. Of. That.

“M’not lettin’ you get away again…” he muttered, voice emerging from beneath his twitching abdominal muscles. With possessed eyes, he was glued to where they joined. “Never—never gonna let you go again… All mine now, Honey—you’re all mine…”

Her arms came up to circle the back of his neck as she panted into his throat. “My-my pussy is yours…”

“Everything,” he corrected.

“Everythi—god—I’m yours, Pete—ahh!”

Peter was getting close. No matter. He’d let himself come inside her soon. There was plenty more to follow. 

He barely recognized his own wrecked voice. “’m not leavin,’ baby. I’m not leavin’ ever.”

A gust of wind followed him as the front door to the suite slammed shut. Peter stood alone in the hotel hallway wearing a sheen of sweat... and nothing else. 

He flushed pink, fumbling to cover himself behind his hands. The cool air made the task easier.

Peter sighed. He’d need to talk to maintenance about better insulation up here.

But not right now. Not while Peter Parker stood ass-naked outside of his door, having been kicked out like a cheap fuck. 

Which might have been Honey’s point, he recognized.

The evidence of their past hour together made his skin sticky. She’d tousled his hair and etched into his back with her nails. He felt sore in places he hadn’t felt in years.

Peter also looked thoroughly fucked. A mixture of pain and relief surged through his muscles. His brain was branded with erotic images of her. He wanted them there.

The door opened again, lifting his hopes. He only caught a fleeting glimpse of Honey, wrapped sloppily in a bathrobe. The rest of her didn’t look much better than Peter. She wore a sour yet adorable scowl on her face.

With a huff, Honey hurled a tight wad of fabric at his nuts, unintentionally intentional in her aim. 

Peter oofed, doubling over to catch the ball of his clothes. At the same time, an Italian leather shoe smacked him in the head. Probably his Tom Ford’s. He heard the door slam closed again, rattling against the frame.

Perplexed, Peter gazed at the molding of the door and the gleaming golden script marking the room number. 

He wondered. 

Would she open the door again to throw him the other shoe? 

Or perhaps the slacks that went along with the dress shirt covering his balls?

Unlikely.

He marveled. 

The nerve of this woman. This goddess-barista who served him his soul in a paper cup. Who held the keys to his heart, his home, and presently, his hotel room. Who somehow managed to kick him out of the penthouse suite of his own hotel. 

Within the confines of his ruined dress shirt, Peter felt another buzz. He fumbled with the shirt, reaching the smartphone concealed inside.

>>> have you moved onto the main course? >>> or are you still tossing the salad? >>> pouring ranch on her hidden valley

Felicia. Peter’s eyes nearly rolled out of his head. With a sigh, he tapped out a reply.

<<<  Kitchen’s closed.  <<< Need clothes. And a new room.

He saw the ellipsis bubbling up on his screen. 

<<< Not another word.

As soon as the message was sent, Peter took another glance at his empty surroundings. Haplessly, he looked toward the closed door. A river of memories flooded him. It surged, swelled, and finally, came to a low simmer.

This was never going to be easy. Nothing ever was with her.

Nothing worth waiting for ever is.

“See you at breakfast,” he whispered aloud lips curled into a smile. “Sleep tight.”

Holding her breath and her ear to the door, Honey waited until Peter’s footsteps faded. When she could no longer hear them, she sighed with exasperation, overcome with exhaustion. Eyes falling closed, Honey leaned back against the door, body aching in places she would feel for days.

After taking a moment, she heard a buzzing sound further in the suite. Honey jumped with alarm, then stumbled on Fawn’s feet to reach the source.

Quickly, Honey waddled to the remains of her yellow dress, fishing out the buzzing object: a 10-year-old smartphone with a black glittery hard case. A holographic cat sticker was fixed to the back, shimmering in the dim light. 

Not just any cat.

She unlocked the phone to see the latest message.

>>> how’d it go? u give him hell?

The heaviest exhale left Honey’s chest, shame creeping up her chest. With her thumb, she scrolled up to review the text messages sent to her. The oldest of which dated back almost four months.

Weeks of correspondence and reassurance from Felicia, not to mention very clear instructions about Peter Parker and how to play his game. 

There was the one from last month:

>>> don’t let him think for one second that you’re gonna let him get off easy!

Then one from last week:

>>> make him suffer. make him grovel. make him lay down in a puddle so you can cross

And these:

>>> go to dinner, but don’t eat anything. order wine, the most expensive one, take one sip and refuse the rest. you pick the restaurant. if he picks the restaurant, hate everything about it >>> play hard to get— but don’t be too cold >>> be flirty. but not slutty.  >>> give him bedroom eyes, but don’t let him stare at you too long.

Finally, there was a clear instruction sent earlier today.

>>> under no circumstances >>> no matter what >>> you need to remember this >>> DO NOT FUCK HIM!!1

Honey frowned as she gazed at Felicia’s text message bubble, sent with so much hope and good intention. A notion soundly defeated. A truly hopeless endeavor, if there ever was one.

Biting her lip, Honey tapped out a reply to her confidant:

<<< Sure did.

Thank you for everything you do. Please keep fanfic healthy and support my writing with a reblog.

[erodasfishtacos]

Just an idea for a concept but no pressure: cheating harry and y/n just finished having sex and they are cuddling (u know being all cute and I love) and Anna turns up at Harry’s door seeing if they can hang out coz they never do and he wasn’t answering his phone and she tried to just walk into his place like he did when she turned up and they were watching that movie (I’m not sure of the name of the concept) and he had to force her to stay outside and it’s really angst between them coz she gets really suspicious but eventually leaves and he just goes and cuddled in bed with y/n and they laugh about it

Disruptions

warnings: cheating, smut, brief mention of domestic violence, panic attacks, this could just be overall triggering if you have experienced trauma or family struggles.

if you enjoyed this blurb - PLEASE reblog, rec, like, and come chat with me about the fic!

—

“Puppy, yeah,” Harry murmurs encouragingly, she was almost there and she looked like an angel in the low light, “Y’look so pretty, give it t’me.”

YN whines in the back of her throat, her hips were slowly rolling forward as she sat atop of him - trying milk that friction of her clit.

“Sweet thing, c’mon,” Harry goads, gripping her waist with strong hands to speed up her languid rolls as he wants her to finish before him.

“Close, H,” YN sweetly chirps, letting him lead her motions until she’s halting and throwing her head back in bliss, lips parting and eye squeezed shut.

“There y’go, good fuckin’ girl,” He praises her before giving two more pumps before he’s releasing right after her.

As he is in the midsts of his orgasm, he hears a quiet ‘I love you’ from above him as she rubs at his chest as he rides it out.

Harry could have heard that whisper from across the fucking ocean, it has him sitting up and pulling her into a hard kiss before babbling against her sore lips.

“Puppy, I love you. You’re so perfect for me. Y’don’t even have t’wonder why you’re the only one I give it to,” He tells her confidently, panting against her mouth.

She doesn’t say anything but her smile is enough for him, he carefully pulls out and flips her on her back before grabbing a towel and wiping her down with adoration deep in his bones.

When she had just curled in to his side, pressing her bare chest against his warm skin, he kisses the top of her head, “You’re my favorite person, y’know that?”

“Harry,” She says, barely above a whisper with her face nuzzled in tight - shying away from what she really feels.

“Please baby,” He replies softly, she knows what he asking for and she will never say no to him when it comes to this.

“I know. I love you s-so much.”

“Whoa, pup. Don’t cry,” Harry chuckles sweetly, “I know, I know you do. Believe me I do.”

She nods, sniffling, she sometimes get emotional after they had intimate slow sex as opposed to the high intensity, lust-driven kind.

It’s quiet as Harry scratches up and down her back, soothing her like he always has and always will, no matter what.

He always finds inner peace when her breathing slows and her facial features relax - all worries and anxiety disappearing.

She had just let out a light snore when he hears a banging on his front door, loud and insistent, and it has YN sitting straight up in bed.

“Wha-Harry, I-who?” YN stammers, her chest starting to heave as she begins to panic from the sudden noise.

-

“Harry, you have to leave,” YN whimpers, the knocking deafening on the front door, “My mum locked him out and he’s going to break it down.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone!” He hisses back, standing up and locking her bedroom door, “Let’s go sneak out the window to my house.”

—-

Harry’s automatically furious with whoever it is, the love of his life triggered as he just knows she’s reliving one of her awful memories.

“Sweetheart, please breathe. S’okay, you know I’d never let anything hurt you. Never have, never will,” Harry coos, he’s standing up to walk to his closet, reaching up for the weighted blanket he keeps for her. “I’m gonna go see who it is.”

“Y-you can’t! You’ll get hurt! Don’t, please,” she begs, eyes wide in fear for him and his safety as she pants.

Harry wraps her like a burrito in the blanket before looking her firmly in her eye, “Remember what your therapist said for when you’re panicking. Do that, please baby.”

She searches his eyes before hesitantly letting hers close, focusing on her breathing and imaging a happy place away from here - a meadow with Harry is what she likes to think about.

Harry slips on his briefs and athletic shorts with annoyance - well absolute rage really. He’s stomping down his stairs with loud steps.

He whips open the front door to see Anna standing there with a pursed look, “Oh, look! So you are alive! What a miracle.”

Harry automatically glares at her, “It’s past bloody midnight, what are you doing here?”

She scoffs in disbelief, “You ditched me tonight! You were suppose to come to the bar with my friends and I! And then you just never answered your phone.”

Yeah, well he had forgotten because YN wanted to watch a new movie and he could never say no to YN.

“I fuckin’ forgot, shit,” Harry huffs, not moving aside to let her in as she steps forward.

“Well, I came over so we could hang out,” Her voice mellowing out a little bit, features softening as she reaches out to stroke his bicep.

All he could think about was his afraid little love upstair using her coping skills to deal with the panic Anna had set off.

“Why would I want to hang out at fuckin’ two-thirty in the mornin’?” Harry replies blandly, like she’s an idiot.

“We could cuddle? Watch a movie?” Anna suggests with a shrug, attempting to giving him a coy look, “Fuck?”

They’d never even done anything apart from a few pecks.

“S’late, I’m too tired for this bullshit.”

“How is that bullshit? It’s so fucking annoying Harry! I know if you’re little bitch of a friend wanted to do that you would!”

She was completely right.

When he hears the vulgar name being thrown at YN, he grits his teeth and says, “Watch your fuckin’ tone, I’ll text y’tomorrow, okay?”

“Fine,” Anna surrenders angrily, turning on her heel and storming back to her car.

Harry slams his door shut so she gets the hint but then automatically feels regretful as he knows it didn’t make YN feel any better.

When he goes up to the bedroom, she’s not in the bed, and Harry hears the shower going so he’s stepping into his bathroom.

It’s a glass door and he can see the beautiful form of her from behind it. There’s not steam in the room because he knows the water is cold.

Not ice cold but barely warm.

When the imagery and breathing didn’t help, usually a cold shower was next, and Harry carefully slides open the door.

“Hi baby,” He murmurs, keeping his eyes on hers and nowhere else - not wandering or curious like they’d be if she was okay.

“Hi,” She answers shakily, her eyes were a bit swollen and puffy but she was giving him a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Do y’need anythin’?”

He wasn’t going to ask to come in because it wasn’t about him.

YN nods, “Will you come hold me? I-it’s cold so if you don’t want to-“

He’s already stripping, he’s hold her in the waters of Antarctica if she asked - he was so bloody gone for her, past the point of self-preservation.

Harry’s wrapping her up in his arms, trying to hide his grimace at the cold stream - colder than her usual but she rarely gets woken up like that.

Therapy had been doing wonders for her.

It may seem like it’s still an intense reaction but it had improved so much from where she had started before the help.

—

Harry had a key to her apartment and he had texted her multiple times that’s he was coming over but she must have forgotten.

She was cleaning her kitchen when he opened the door.

Luckily, he managed to duck as a plate comes hurling at him. This wasn’t the first time it’s happened - not close.

As it hits the wall and shatters, he looks up to find her guiltily meeting his gaze before mumbling out an apology.

He steps over it, meeting her in the kitchen, and kissing her nose, “S’okay, y’didnt get me. I just wished you weren’t so scared, pup.”

—

“It was Anna,” YN states against his damp skin.

“Yeah, I ditched her and she was pissed,” Harry shrugs, unbothered and coldly uncaring about the situation.

“Mmm,” She acknowledges lowly, her hands snaking around his waist.

“Please.”

It was simple, YN knew what he was asking.

Please let me break up with her.

It hurt YN just as much when she couldn’t do anything but shake her head ‘no’ and swallow harshly.

—

Whew doggy. Thoughts?

[thrndlngs]

three times shinsou misses the opportunity to kiss you + the one time he seized the moment.

── pairing, shinsou x fem!prohero!reader ── request: x times shinsou wants to kiss fem reader??? pLZ I NEED IT ── author’s note: this was super dope & cute to write. tysm for sending this in. i hope i did this justice and it wasn’t to out of character.  also reader has a water quirk & the two of you are in your early twenties.  ♡ 

i.

     "'toshi,” you whispered, chest against his as the two of you currently hid from the group of villains. your two agencies had partnered up in attempt to take down a new gang of villains who were transporting drugs from the city to the waters, the two of you were partnered because of how the two of you excelled in your respective agencies, shinsou was sent to aid in your patrols of the waters  ──  which is why the two of you are currently hiding in a storage closet on a ship. 

  “shut up.” you don’t take it to heart, you’re sure he means it as nicely as possible - he just lacks a few pages in the ‘vocabulary’ department. 

  “we need to do something.” you tell him, trying your best to meet his gaze in the tight space (which was nearly impossible because he’s towering over you at the moment). he doesn’t reply, not at first at least, if you looked hard enough you would probably see the gears in his head turning. 

  “──stop talking, it’s distracting me.” 

  your mouth quickly shuts, fidgety hands are now at your side, you were starting to get antsy and there was practically little to no room to move around without being heard - or seen for that matter. 

  “they switch the guards every ten minutes, in the middle of the switch, we run.” the purple haired male explained, taking a peak at the time on his cellphone. the two of you had to endure this for three more minutes. just three more minutes and you would be free.

  “three minutes,” you repeated, more to confirm this for yourself. you’re sure you wouldn’t last that long, after all, this was shinsou, the male you’ve had a crush on for quite some time now. how were you expected to last that long?

  “──think of it like seven minutes of heaven.”

  “we haven’t played that since── “

  “yeah, yeah i know, but just think of it like that. don’t think about the closet, just the game.” 

  you nodded quickly, meeting his gaze as the two of you stood there in silence. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t thinking about kissing him. it seemed like the perfect moment - it was just the two of you. if it were the last day on earth, you at least wanted to go out with a bang. you know?

  “let me get comfortable, you can do the same after.” you watched as he places either hands besides your head, slouching a bit against the wall so his back could have some sort of support. he nods to you, signaling for you to do the same. 

  it takes you a moment, the position shinsou is currently in causes your heart to skip just a few beats. were you disappointed in yourself for letting your mind drift.. elsewhere during a mission? for sure. did you care right now? absolutely not.

  you cleared your throat, widening your stance and trying to balance the weight in between your legs to help ease some of the weight  ──  but there wasn’t really much you could do.

  “two minutes.” 

   this had to be the longest three minutes of your life.

   “i think i just tasted my own sweat.” he complained. it feels like he’s sweating in places he shouldn’t produce sweat in.

  “i feel like a fish out of water,” you added.

  “──gonna start passing out if i don’t throw you in the water soon?”

  “says the one whose sweating to death.” 

  “and you’re dehydrated. guess we’re both shit out of luck aren’t we?”

  “yeah, but, i think this isn’t the worst way to die.” 

  he takes another peak at his cellphone, noting that there’s a minute left before the two of you could finally get out of this damn storage closet. “you’ve got a minute to tell me anything worse than dying like this.” 

  in hindsight ── there’s a lot that could happen in a minute, that’s the only reason you said something to begin with. “alone, i could die in this closet, alone and then you know, it would be lonely.” 

 “are you serious?” 

  “oh come on! that’s pretty serious!”

  “it ── it really isn’t,” he’s trying to laugh as quietly as possible and you playfully slapped him in his shoulder. 

 “okay, well, i wouldn’t want to die alone.”

  “mhm, scaredy cat.” his smile is infectious and for a moment, he forgets that the two of you are stuck in a storage closet. maybe now would be the perfect time to kiss you, when it’s just the two of you, waiting to make your grand escape, when the two of your are just centimeters apart. 

  “now’s our chance,” he whispered, straightening himself to get out first just in case. he doesn’t want to act off of impulses. if he kisses you, he wants to make sure it’s because you want him too.

ii.

     “good to see you when you’re not acting like a goldfish who just hopped out of it’s bowl.” the familiar voice teased from behind you, hands folded behind his head. if it were anyone else, you might have tripped them.

  “──don’t you have to go buy hair dye now or something?”

  “no that was after i made sure a fisherman didn’t take you on the way home.”

  “is this what do you do on your spare time? think of jokes that revolve around my quirk?”  

  he rolls his shoulder lazily, leaning against the apartment railing across from your front door. “they come naturally, no extra thinking required.”

  “and here i thought all the hair dye went to your brain.”

   this wasn’t out of the norm for the two of you, he would make the first jab and then you would follow suit. sometimes, the bickering could go on for hours  ──  regardless of task at hand (like the time the two of you were trying to detain a villain and shinsou had told the woman you were a water sprite), it’s an old nickname of yours, he had given it to you back at the sports festival when you were kids. you had earned it when you had almost drown mineta because he wouldn’t stop making inappropriate jokes and you had brought the entire water fountain down on him. 

  as the two of you stood there in silence, you, had your back against your door, hands folded behind you while he stood parallel, arms against his chest he wonders: is this the time he kisses you goodnight? 

  “d’ya want to come inside? i have leftovers? we could pull an all nighter like we used to do back in the dorms?” there’s a hint of hopefulness in your eyes and he would feel like absolute shit if he declined the offer.

  “only because you have food.” 

  he doesn’t kiss you goodnight then. and he doesn’t kiss you goodnight when you fall asleep on his shoulder after the second horror movie either. if you were anyone else, he would’ve left without a care in the world, but it’s you and you are different. 

  so he stays and tells himself that tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow, he can try again.

iii.

     “i don’t dance,” shinsou tells you as you so desperately tried to bring him onto the dance floor. it’s a hero’s gala, everyone from your respective classes at U.A. were here, pro heroes from all around the world and some of your old instructors as well  ──  these aren’t his thing, you know that. you remember his attitude during the first two hours of the third year’s ‘goodbye party’ - not much had changed. he’s taller, a bit more handsomer and smiles more often. 

  “you do tonight, come on.” while you had dragged him by one hand, the other desperately tried to loosen his tie because it feels like he’s suffocating. 

  “──you’ll be the death of me woman.” he’s mumbling under his breath, one hand resting in yours as the other found its place at your waist.

  “because i asked you to dance? might i say this is on your list of horrible ways to die?” you teased, offering him that infectious smile that makes him go weak in his knees. he hates to admit the pull you have on him  ──  he might even go as far as saying you might have him wrapped around that finger of yours and you don’t even know it yet.

  “if it’s by your hands i would say it’s a merciful death.”

  “a merciful death? i’ll keep that in mind.” 

  “don’t test your luck,” you know he’s only messing with you  ──  

  you’re to busy enjoying the moment to think of some witty comeback. it’s something about the way your hand seems to fit perfectly in his. or how the two of you are able to move in sync without any words spoken in between the two of you that’s driving you insane.

  if you would’ve told your past self that you would be slow dancing with the hitoshi shinsou at a hero’s gala while the world around you disappeared you would’ve laughed at the idea. it would’ve seem silly to you  ──  stupid even. shinsou and you weren’t rivals like you and bakugou were, but, you had always found yourself trying to one up him. 

  yet here you were, swaying to the slow tune as you managed to snake your arms around his midsection and rest a head against his chest. maybe this was his chance: with the little distance in between the two of you, dim lighting and dressed to the nines. surely, this would be a good memory to relive later down the road wouldn’t it? 

  but he wanted to savor the moment. so he decides it against it  ── despite the ache in his chest.

  iv.

     "we did it.” shinsou muses, an awkward hand offered in your direction for you to shake. it’s been six months but your agencies had finally shut down the smuggling operation and you could finally take the break you had so desperately needed. you weren’t sure what to do with the outstretched hand, but, you give in anyways, resting your hand in his as he gave it a firm shake.

  “pleasure doing business with you.” you tell him, lips curving into a bittersweet smile. teasing, bickering and ‘playful’ sparring aside, you were going to miss him. you were used to patrolling and doing missions on your own but this was different. 

  “try not to end up on the other side of fishing hook, yeah?” it’s his way of telling you to be careful in shinsou’s teasing nature.

  “make sure i’m the one to grant you the merciful death.” please be careful, is what you want to say. though you couldn’t bring yourself to say it aloud - if you did, it would only confirm that you care about the purple haired pro hero more than you should. 

  he shakes his head with a laugh, “you’re the only one who gets the satisfaction.” 

  “it better stay that way ‘toshi.” 

  he doesn’t know for certain if your agencies would cross paths again. your agency was closer to the waters and he was closer in the city, the chance that you would run into one another again would be slim to none. 

 he clears his throat for a moment, retreating his hand from yours and placing them at your waist instead. he’s pictured this a thousand times but now that he’s in the moment he couldn’t manage to find the right words. it’s frustrating, really.

  “──hi.” you’re holding your breath in anticipation, was this another one of his games? was he going to kiss you? tell you a secret? use his capture weapon and tell you that he’s not letting you go until you admit something embarrassing?

  he doesn’t care anymore. doesn’t care if it makes him look like a love sick idiot when he kisses you like it’s the last thing he’s about to do before he dies, he doesn’t care if anyone’s watching or for the wrinkles you’ll cause since you’ve got a fistful of his shirt in a desperate attempt to close whatever little distance the two of you had between you. 

  you pull away first causing him to pout (which was actually cute but you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing that) but you do laugh.

  “you know,” he muses, a hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly, a habit you hadn’t seen in years. “──i didn’t want to let you walk away without something to remember, my little water sprite.” 

  you rolled your eyes at the choice of nickname but were flattered nonetheless, your own arms finding their way around his neck, “who said i was walking away?”

[nightingaelic]

could you do Fallout New Vegas companion’s reactions to a Courier Six who is also the Lone Wanderer telling their stories from their time in DC? (bonus points for Arcade’s reaction to them hating the enclave, and if that would make him decide to keep his past hidden even longer, or if he would still tell them?)

The logistics and implications of this make my head spin. This is also super long, honestly I should just quit writing reacts and start writing fics OH WAIT

Getting the courier talking was a tough thing to do, but on nights where the moon was full and the coyotes' howls were miles away or at least behind some stout walls, on nights where they were a few beers in and they hadn't seen another living soul in a few days, that Mojave Express deliverer started to reminisce. That wasn't really the surprising part, though. No, the surprising part was what they would remember, fondly or not-so-fondly: A world apart from the desert, a continent away on another coast, and stories of life in a vault, a missing father, pure water and a Brotherhood divided.

Arcade Gannon: Arcade didn't mind these moods, at least when they first cropped up. He nodded along as the courier talked about living in their father's shadow, about feeling cornered by their own family's legacy. He hung on their words about living in the cradle of America's history, about Project Purity, all of the gritty details of modifying a GECK to bring water to a devastated wasteland.

Eventually though, the courier's memories soured, with the arrival of Enclave remnants in their life. Arcade folded into himself with every harsh word, every jolt of plasma that had disrupted his friend's world relived in horrific detail. They gestured angrily as they described their newfound purpose, their battle for power with the fractured Brotherhood of Steel at their back, and their smug satisfaction at the moments they were able to crack open Raven Rock and the Enclave's mobile base crawler and lay waste to their tormentors.

It took a few rounds of these stories before the courier noticed he shrank and grew quiet whenever they neared the end of their story about breaking into another vault to find the GECK. They stopped abruptly one night. "What's up with you?"

"Um..." Arcade scratched the back of his neck and looked away. "Nothing. Nothing, I just... have some personal experience with the Enclave, myself."

The courier sighed. "Yeah, there's a few people walking around the West Coast that have similar stories to mine. Arroyo's full of them, for one. Is it something like that?"

Arcade took a deep breath. "I feel... well, it's a lot closer to home, for me. Close enough to raise questions, so I don't talk about it much."

"Close enough to..." The courier twisted their face up in confusion for a moment, before realization set in and their eyes grew large. "You were... your... oh."

"Mmm-hm."

"Well, fuck me." The courier smiled and popped a cap off of another beer. "I've been doing all the talking, haven't I? Let's hear your story about working with the guys in power armor who ruined my life, right after dad did."

Craig Boone: Whenever the courier started up like this, Boone couldn't help but notice a familiar twinge of regret and self-doubt in their voice. It shone through most clearly when they spoke about their time with the Brotherhood of Steel, the men and women they'd fought alongside and lost during their struggle against the remnants of the Enclave. It was there, too, in their story about returning to the vault they grew up in, setting the chaos that had arisen in their wake to rest, but not being able to go back to the way things were.

Boone didn't pry. He knew that feeling well. Instead, he cracked open bottles of beer, liquor, soda, whatever they had on hand during their nights in the desert, and just listened. He'd done the same for Carla, when they were younger and new to each other and he couldn't get enough of her voice and how it flowed endlessly, easily, the way his never could. He absorbed it all now as he did then: The joy, the pain, the loss, the fear, the triumphs and falls and abandoned dreams that filled the courier up and drove them to travel west, beyond anything they had ever known.

That last part stumped Boone a bit, though. "Why didn't you stay?" he finally asked one night.

They looked surprised. "Stay? Stay where? I didn't have a home anymore."

Boone shook his head. "With the Brotherhood. Or some other settlement."

"Like Megaton?" The courier sighed. "I thought about it. Close to the vault, friendly people, easy work... I guess I just didn't want to wind up... stuck."

They flushed red and looked away from him. Boone knew why they were embarrassed, but he also knew the truth in their words.

Sometimes the courier cried after they had finished, though they did their best to hide it. Boone pretended not to notice. He was pretty sure they knew he was pretending, but he was also pretty sure that pointing it out would be worse than just letting it be an open secret between them. The silence between them endured, but something grew inside it and flourished. Some kind of deeper understanding.

Lily Bowen: The more the courier spoke, the more Lily made connections in her muddled mind. Of course they knew the basic layout of most vaults, they had grown up in one. Of course they were extra-sensitive to the Mojave heat, they had come to the desert from the cooler of the two coasts. Of course they'd been extra-wary around the super mutants or nightkin of Jacobstown, they had only known angry super mutants looking to grow their own numbers through any means necessary.

Their shared experience of growing up inside a vault reminded Lily of happier days, and she often asked questions about Vault 101 during the courier's stories. "Were you sweet on anyone inside your old home?" she asked, with a big smile befitting a proud grandma.

The courier blushed. "That's not very polite, Lily."

"Oh, I'm sorry, dearie."

"No, no it's okay." The courier smiled. "There was a boy who picked on me a lot, but I never figured out whether he did it because he hated me or liked me. His name was Butch. And there was Amata, my childhood friend. She was the daughter of the Overseer."

"Daughter of the Overseer?" Lily grinned. "I'm sure she was a lovely young woman."

The courier looked a little misty. "Yeah. She was. Probably still is."

Lily pulled a handkerchief that used to be a small tablecloth from inside her overalls and handed it over. "Maybe we can go back there together, pumpkin," she offered. "I always wanted to travel to the capital. We can visit your friends, see the sights."

"Yeah, maybe someday." The courier accepted the gift and blew their nose. "I've got some things I need to finish up here before I even think about wandering back east, though."

"Then let's make a list and do our chores," Lily said happily. "Number one?"

"Ohhhh, man." The courier smiled up at her. "I wouldn't even know where to start."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: Raul got a faint smile on his face whenever the courier started up like this, as if their memories reminded him of another place he had come from, another time. While they couldn't have more different backgrounds, pasts- hell, he had several hundred years on the courier, even if they shared the same road today- there was something in the description of the other roads they had walked that made him feel warm on a cold night.

"What's on your mind?" The courier asked him one night, when Raul's smile grew larger than usual.

"Nada, boss," he reassured them. "You're just a good reminder that I can change my mind about the future anytime I'd like. Tell me the one about that radio DJ again."

"Again?" The courier rolled their eyes. "Why? I could tell you a million stories about Underworld and all the ghouls that lived there, but all you want to hear about is Three Dog. You'd probably have more in common with the Underworld folks, honestly."

Raul nodded noncommittally. "Sí, but my favorite stories are about people who had to rise above bad situations and become someone uncommon. Anyone who's able to do that is either fighting for something great or running from something terrible. Sometimes both."

The courier shot him a skeptical look. "Three Dog's holed up in his radio station 24/7, he's not running from anything or out fighting for anything. All that stuff about 'the good fight' is a load of bull."

"Now, now, Six," Raul chastised. "Just because he looks like your average pendejo doesn't mean he isn't doing his part. You even told me his radio show is inspirational for the Capital Wasteland folks."

The courier held their hands up in the air and bobbled them, as if balancing an invisible scale. "The duality of man. Being an average pendejo, or convincing everyone around you that you aren't actually an average pendejo and can pull off miracles."

Raul laughed. "And which one are you, boss?"

"Eh, I'm still figuring it out."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Cass was never one for fixating on her own past, but she couldn't help but sympathize with the courier whenever they deigned to add onto their unbelievable story. It was hard enough for her to navigate her own damn life: She couldn't imagine being called upon to steer an entire area's destiny.

After another night of recalling their life inside a vault with their dad, then their unexpected loss of him right after being reunited on the surface, the courier stopped suddenly. "I'm sorry," they said.

Cass paused her swig of precious whiskey. "What?"

"I keep going on and on about my dad, and here you are not knowing what happened to yours."

"Eh." Cass took her drink and waved her hand around until the burning swallow made its way down. "S'loads of people in the wasteland without a clue what happened to their pops. I'm not special. In fact, I'd say it probably hurts a bit more, what happened with yours."

"Well, all the same." The courier sank deeper into their seat and examined their own bottle of spirits. "I feel like an open book, tonight. Anything you want to know about where I came from that I haven't already spilled?"

Cass thought for a moment. "Tribals."

"What about them?"

"Does the East Coast have them? You're not the first traveler I've met from there, but none of you have so much as mentioned any tribals out east."

"Mmm." The courier looked thoughtful. "I guess we do have them, though maybe not in the traditional sense. There's a mess of them in Point Lookout for sure, and at least one tribal group in the Capital Wasteland outright, but beyond that things are more... loose. Fewer intact families, fewer intact homes."

"Huh." Cass took another drink. "Maybe that's where my dad went."

She let the courier stew in the awkward silence for a bit before she grinned and reached out to smack them. "Just kidding. Keep going. I want to hear about that giant robot again."

Veronica Santangelo: Veronica usually sat and listened, spellbound, picturing a chapter of her order that had realized the very thing she kept trying to tell the Elders and made the ultimate sacrifice to follow their hearts anyway.

Well, maybe Elder Owyn Lyons hadn't come to the same realization as her, but he had had a change of heart that split his company and cut them off from almost everyone they had ever known. It had been five years since the High Elders had instituted radio silence toward their East Coast chapter, and so far there had been no attempts to re-establish contact.

Veronica prodded the courier for any info she could get about the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel. The courier let slip pretty early in their friendship that Elder Owyn Lyons had passed away, which wasn't unexpected. The man was 76 years old, after all. She learned on one particularly emotional night that his daughter, Elder Sarah Lyons, was also dead, something she wasn't sure even the Western Elders were aware of. That memory was clearly painful for the courier though, so Veronica didn't press for details.

"And the Enclave?" the Scribe asked one night, arms wrapped around her knees. "Are they completely gone?"

The courier grew cold. "Yes. I made sure of it."

"Right." Veronica nodded. "So the Brotherhood took over the air force base they were at. It must have been chock-full of tech and resources, if it was the Enclave's last stand."

"It was." The courier sighed and shifted in their seat. "And it woke up some of our brothers and sisters to their original mission in the Capital Wasteland. I thought maybe that selfishness had died with Liberty Prime, but... well, I didn't like it, so I left."

"Mmm, yeah." Veronica nodded again, sympathetically this time. "I know how you feel. Felt."

"Feel," the courier agreed. "I just wish there was more I could've done. Maybe there wasn't anything else, short of seizing power."

"You'd definitely get pushback for that in the Brotherhood," Veronica agreed. "But you might get that chance out here in the broader Mojave."

ED-E: At first, ED-E enjoyed the stories, trumpeting and cooing various beeps at the appropriate moments for emphasis. The one time the courier began badmouthing the Enclave, however, the eyebot waited until they had finished before playing back the first tape that Dr. Whitley had recorded before its trip.

The courier listened to the scientist's words from years ago, deflating slightly as it played out. When the tape had finished, they stood up and checked the eyebot over. "He sent you toward Navarro, huh?"

ED-E beeped affirmation, and the courier sighed. "But Navarro was already gone. I'm sorry. I guess I'm... well, me and the Brotherhood of Steel back east are responsible for your previous master's decision to send you away. Might be responsible for more, too."

ED-E beeped sadly. The courier pressed their forehead against the eyebot's metal dome in apology.

Rex: Well, surprising for most. Rex was not most. As soon as the courier got really into their recollections, Rex usually yawned and went to sleep. He stirred when he felt their hand reach down to scratch the ruff of his neck, or pat the glass dome that held his brain.

"Good dog," the courier said, through the veil of sleep. "You remind me of another pup that used to follow me around."

[ofworththerisk]

Maybe Natalie was being too uptight; being too serious which was bringing a dammer into the hospital room. But tonight the accident it kept replaying in her mind. She saw those flashing lights and froze and before Nat had the time to react she heard the sound of Will’s body hit the front of the car and quite literately rolled over. It was frighten, it scared her the thought of losing him. She was an idiot for waiting; for playing safe when it came to our friendship and those lingered feelings which never appeared to be on our side. And Now Nat wasn’t scared Will would disappear from her line of view; she just want it in the lightheartedness mood. She didn’t know how to hold a joke the humor felt dry on her lips. 

She appreciated the fact the male was trying despite his own injuries. The bandages wrapped around his head, the cast on his leg; it was a reminder; Will got hurt because of her. Nat hated that he thought he had to be a savior on her account, that he had to jump into the line of fire to protect her. And yeah she gathered this was one battle she’d never win, but she loved him; and would table this win for now. Instead it felt awkward; probably because of her weird attitude now, her weird mood, and she hated that she couldn’t relive all the teasing banter we once shared. Maybe tomorrow; once Will was on the clean slate; when he was able to move more. Only time could tell. 

Hearing the questions regarding Owen; her pride and joy; it instantly kept a grin to her features. Nearly beaming from ear to ear, the brunette had laughed at the memory of her son coloring on all walls; one day when Will had drove her home, she walked through the door and nearly had a stroke over the walls; white walls now colored; let’s just say it was a hidden joke now that Owen tended to redecorate. And she had to share a laugh at the thought as she nodded. “ Oh yes and his new favorite color is green so all the walls are turning green each day, but perhaps I can bring him by tomorrow and he can find a new art project with this fancy cast.” A hint of a joke maybe Nat was loosen up, and she placed a gentle hand on the edge of his cast; and she paused to asked almost feeling vulnerable all of a sudden. “ Assuming you’re okay with that. I mean this is new for us, but Owen likes you, he’d love to make sure you’re okay.”

Continued

@thebetterlookingbrother

A promise, a pleading in my voice. I felt weak, like I was alone here. Because the one person I always turned to for advice, to help keep me sane was hurt. Will was a guiding compass for me, he was someone who brought this magical light into my life. Even when I felt like my back was pressed against a wall I could always turn to him. We had kissed once before and I felt the sparks; I knew where my heart laid yet i ran. Because I was scared of losing the most important relationship in my life. 

And now it felt silly because the night I decided to take the plunge, The night I decided the timing was on my side Will got hurt; hit by a car because he was trying to be a hero to save me. I felt the overwhelming feeling, I felt the sadness at the thought of losing him. I felt like I was broken inside; and when I came to his hospital room, I felt that ache in my chest. I lowered myself down into the chair besides his bed; and I extended my hand to touch his. The hand to hold onto him. Fingers laid over his own; a pinky finger slowly tracing over his palm. “ Stay with me.” A plead and with disbelief I saw it; the flicker of his eye as he mumbled my name. Nat; it was music to my ears. I felt the burning in my eyes; the need to cry. 

“ I’m here okay.” A reassurance that I wasn’t going anywhere. That I was at his side when he had the strength to wake up. I saw it the flicker of an eye before his eyes had closed again. He needed his rest; the doctors I worked with hadn’t shown any concern so I wasn’t worried to an extent. I sat during this time cursing myself for all the moments I missed. For not telling Will how I felt before. When he had been so honest before Nina. He had always checked in on me, he had kissed me by the ambulance that one time. The butterflies I had felt that day; but i was scared and for a second I felt the timing would fall into my lap and now I just couldn’t imagine a life without him. 

 I had leaned my head against the chair closing my head briefly as I waited. I heard the nurses talking outside what an unfortunate event tonight; yeah tell me about it. I wanted to roll my eyes; to call them out for their insensitivity of this, but i held my breath. Instead I had stayed quit how long as passed? I don’t know before I had felt the movement in his hand; the fingers in my grasp moved; that’s what forced my eyes to lift open; I tried to pretend i hadn’t cried but I had the feeling Will could read right through me. 

Shifting in my seat; the female had urged herself forward, Dance lessons; is that his first thought? After the accident. I wanted to laugh but held my tongue. “ I think I’m more worried about you than the stupid dance lessons.” A laugh escaped my lips as I had leaned closer against the bed; until my head tilted down to place a small kiss to the top of his hand. 

He was fighting; this was a good sign; I had talk myself into believing.

[thebookreader12345]

Memory Lane

Pairing: Adam Ruzek x reader

Summary: Y/N gets severely injured on the job, and throughout her time in and out of consciousness, she recalls the memories that she's shared with Adam throughout the years

Requested: No

Warnings: slight swearing, mentions of getting shot

Word Count: 1,718 Words

One minute, I was fine. The next, I was on the ground, clutching at my shirt which was stained dark red with blood. It wasn't supposed to go down like this. It was a simple exchange, money for drugs, but everything went sideways when a patrol car intercepted the meeting. That was especially bad news for Adam and I seeing as neither of us had on bullet proof vests.

"Y/N!" Adam shouted and hooked his arms under my armpits before dragging me behind our car. Gunfire echoed around us, but the only thing I was trying to focus on was Adam. "5021 Ida. I need an ambo to the south block of Union. We're in the abandoned lot near the factories. My partner's been shot."

"Copy that 5021 Ida. An ambulance is 3 minutes out," the dispatcher replied.

"Adam," I murmur.

"No, Y/N, don't talk," Adam ordered and pressed his hands onto my wound, which caused me to wince. "Save your strength. Everything's gonna be okay."

"I've been shot in the stomach and I'm lying in a pool of blood," I whisper and clutch Adam's arm. "It's not cool to lie to me when I'm dying."

"Hey, you are not going to die on me. Not here, not now, now ever," Adam said. I nodded as my vision started to blur slightly, and I began to lose my strength. My grip on Adam's forearm loosened and my hand fell slack to the side, hitting the rocky gravel pavement. I could feel my conscious fading away, and it took everything in my power to keep my eyes the slightest bit open. Adam noticed my sudden silence, and when he realized that my eyes were staring to close, his face was flooded with worry. "Keep your eyes open, darling. The ambulance is almost here. You can do it."

I wanted to be strong for Adam, but it was getting hard to stay awake. My brain was begging me to close my eyes and get some rest, and I fought the urge to lose consciousness for as long as I could, but that didn't last forever. I felt my eyes flutter shut, the last thing I saw being Adam's distressed face. It was weird though, being unconscious. Everything was black, and there was no light in sight. That's when the black disappeared though, and suddenly, I was reliving the time Adam and I first met.

Flashback

"Here are the papers you requested Trudy. All 26 of them," I declare and place the stack of papers on the front desk.

"I'm impressed," Trudy confessed. "I didn't think you'd get it done in time."

"Hey, we may be short in the bullpen, but that doesn't mean I can't get my own work done quickly," I say.

"Speaking of being short on people, Al's brining in the new recruit now," Trudy spoke and nodded behind me. I turned around just as Al bounded up the front steps with our new rookie trailing a few steps behind him.

"Hey, Al," I greet my co-worker. "Who's this?"

"Y/N, this is Adam Ruzek. He's going to be our newest team member. And Adam, this is Y/N L/N," Al introduced. "She's one of the members of Intelligence."

"It's nice to meet you," Adam admitted.

"Yeah. You too," I reply.

"So, are you gonna be my partner?" Adam questioned.

I laughed softly. "Sorry, but I'm partnered up with Antonio. You're stuck with Al."

"Oh. Al was telling me about you on the ride over so I just figured..." Adam trailed off, a slight blush rising to his cheeks.

"He's cute. I like him," I tell Al.

Al chuckled. "I figured you would."

"Well, Adam, it was nice meeting you, but I've gotta get back upstairs and finish some more paperwork. Al, would you mind buzzing me up? My print hasn't been working lately," I explain.

"Sure. Ruzek, I need you to stay here and fill out some paperwork with Sergeant Platt. She can let you up when you're done," Al said.

"Got it. Again, it was nice meeting you, Y/N," Adam voiced.

Flashback Ends

When I slightly regained consciousness, my eyes cracked open the tiniest bit, just enough for me to know that I was in an ambulance. I could hear the sirens echoing on the street outside and feel the bounce of the wheels as they drove on the concrete road. I could also feel Adam squeezing my hand as a paramedic tended to my wound. But all of that disappeared in a matter of seconds as I slipped away for the second time that afternoon. This time, I was brought back to our first kiss.

Flashback

"No way! That never happened," I object and laugh.

"Yes it did. I swear. My dad walked in on me and my girlfriend at the time making out," Adam claimed.

"That must've been so embarrassing. I would've hid from my parents for a month if that happened to me," I say.

"Yeah, well, I was a teenager, and they provided me food and shelter, so I couldn't exactly avoid them," Adam joked.

"Well, this is me," I murmur and gesture to the apartment building a few yards up. Adam nodded and pulled to the curb, parking his car to let me out. Just before I could exit the car, Adam stopped me.

"Let me walk you up," Adam spoke and climbed out of the car. I shook my head, a small smile playing on my lips, and exited the car. I slung my purse over my shoulder and joined Adam on the sidewalk, and together, the two of us walked up the stairs of my apartment complex and stopped at the front door.

"I had fun tonight," I confess and turn to face Adam. "We should do this again sometime."

Adam nodded. "Definitely. But uh, before I go, there's one more thing I have to do." And with that, Adam leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. I smiled against his lips and moved my hands up to cup his cheeks, which caused him to wrap his arms around my waist and pull me closer. I could taste the faintest bit of beer on his lips, and it went surprisingly well with the wine flavor that was still occupying my tongue. The kiss only lasted for a few seconds, and I was a bit upset when we pulled away from each other. "I couldn't leave without giving you a goodnight kiss," Adam admitted. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Night, Adam," I reply.

Flashback Ends

This time, when I came to, I was being wheeled into the ER at Chicago Med. I had an oxygen mask over my nose and mouth to help me breathe, but that didn't help much with my labored breathing. Through my squinted eyes, I could make out a few people hovering above me, but I couldn't seem to hear what they were saying. Along with Adam and the paramedics, I saw Dr. Rhodes, who was wheeling my stretcher in the direction of the elevators. I didn't stay conscious for long, and when I drifted off, I was seeing another memory.

Flashback

"Y/N, can we just talk? Please," Adam pleaded. I ignored his pleas from where I was seated on the floor against the bathroom door, and leaned my head back against the wood. Tears fell from my eyes and slid down my cheeks, but I didn't even bother wiping them away. "Y/N? Come on. Let me in."

"I don't want to talk to you right now," I murmur.

"Y/N I..." Adam trailed off for a few seconds. "I'm sorry, okay? I know that it was reckless of me to jump in front of that bullet but-"

"You could've been killed, Adam," I interject.

"But I wasn't," Adam countered. "And I'm not even hurt. The vest stopped the bullet. I'm okay."

"I get that, but what if you weren't?" I propose. "What if the vest didn't protect you? What if you had been seriously hurt? I can't live without you, Adam."

Adam sighed from where he was standing on the other side of the door. "You will never have to live without me. I'm never gonna leave you, Y/N. I love you so much."

My breath got caught in my throat at Adam's words. We had never said 'I love you' to each other before. I sniffled and stood up, using the back of my hand to wipe away the tears that had remained on my cheeks, and then I opened the door. Adam was standing a few feet away from the door, and he looked up when I exited the bathroom. I took a few steps forward and hugged him tightly, burying my face into his shoulder.

"I love you too," I breathe out.

Flashback End

My eyes opened slowly, and I cringed at the brightness of the room, closing my eyes again. After a few seconds, I opened my eyes again, blinking a few times to get used to the light. A small groan slipped past my lips as I tried to move to a more comfortable position, and that alerted Adam, who was sleeping in a chair next to my bed, that I was awake. He rubbed his eyes and sat up straighter, his hand automatically gravitating to mine.

"Hey," Adam muttered, his voice laced with sleepiness. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, I hurt everywhere," I reply. "But I think I'll be okay."

"You uh, you had me worried for a bit," Adam confessed and squeezed my hand softly.

"Don't worry. I don't plan on going anywhere any time soon," I admit. "But I do plan on taking every measure to make sure I don't get shot ever again. It hurts like hell."

Adam chuckled. "I will do everything in my power to keep you out of harm's way."

"You know what else you can do? Get me a cup of Jell-O from the cafeteria," I tell him.

"Deal," Adam said and stood up. "But I'm also gonna grab Dr. Rhodes on my way back so that he can check up on you."

"You're the best boyfriend ever," I exclaim. "I love you."

"I love you too," Adam responded and leaned down to peck my lips.

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

Tag List:

@prettypyschoinpink @securityfriendly-jay @scarletsoldierrr @lorenakaspersen @virtualreader @carnationworld @caitsymichelle13​ @anotherfan07

[xoxomswr1tez]

Saved - Hank Voight

Request : @mcgreads : Hey can I request a Hank Voight and reader where the reader is younger and apart of the unit and her and Voight are together as well as her being best friends with Casey and she's with Platt during that episode where she' on the T.V. interview and the bomb goes off and Voight is worried and giving out orders as not only his bestfriend is in there but also his girl and he communicates with Casey as well. Lots of fluff in the end please❤

Please forgive me if the lines aren't said by the correct people I have the transcript but it does not tell me who said what so I am going off memory!

Word Count - 1733

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

You work as a secretary at the front desk of District 21, you had been working there for a few months when Trudy asked if you would go to an T.V interview with her, having not wanting to go alone and embarrass herself

Walking up the stair to intelligence you dropped their mail off to them and made your way into you boyfriends office closing the door behind you

Walking over to him you sat your self down in his lap and rested your head on his shoulder

"Trudy and I are going to leave soon" You informed him as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pressed a kiss to your forehead

"Be safe please" he said while resting his heat on top of yours

"I will I promise" You reply looking him in the eyes he leans down and you two share a kiss that was interrupted by a knock on the door

The door opened reveling Trudy

"Hey Voight is Y/N in here" She asked with out looking up from her file

"Yep right here" he replied as you sit up in his lap

"Oh good it's time to go, I'm driving" She said then turned and walked out

"Alright ill see you later when we get back" You say giving Hank one last kiss and taking his brown leather jacket with you before leaving

--------- At the interview ---------

You and Trudy had just gotten to the news station where the interview was being held, walking onto the interview set Trudy was taken to a seating area to starts the interview

"I'm so excited to be here today with Trudy Platt" the host says as Trudy sits with a smile, before Trudy could reply a beeping sound is heard through out the studio

"What is that" one person asks

--------- Before the explosion at 21 ---------

"Platts on in two. Everyone! Adam!" Kim yells

"Antonio, come on" Kim said

"We're not staying, I'm gonna do paper work at home" Antonio said looking up from his desk for a split second

"Hey, Eva. What's up, kid" Adam said as he walked out of the hallway

"My father's a fascist" she replied

"Okay, I don't know what to do with that" Adam says surprised

"Okay, everybody be quiet" Kim said "Platt's on TV.

"Betty's sitting down to discuss the new friendly face of the Chicago PD" the producer said

"What friendly face is that" Jay joked

"Betty" the producer said

"Thank you Shri, I'm so exited to be here today with Sergeant Trudy Platt, from the 21st District" Betty said

"She couldn't possibly hate this more" Adam joked

'It's my pleasure, I'm hap-I'm happy to be here." Trudy said with a big fake smile

"I wonder what Y/N's doing and if she's laughing as hard ass we are" Erin chimed in

"Is everything okay?" Trudy asked as they all heard a beeping

"I think that's coming from my office" Sheri said before an explosion went off

"What the hell happened" Kim said as they all grabbed their coats and things before making their way to the News Station with their boss who was pissed more than ever

--------- Back at the New station Y/N's POV ---------

"Sheri, Sheri hey stay with me" Trudy said

"All the exits are blocked we're stuck" I said coughing slightly

Trudy looked up scared then looked around the room

"Okay we are going to go into the back room and wait for help, and everything will be okay, because we are getting out of here" Trudy said while  dragging Sheri's barely conscious body into the back dressing room

As Trudy and I made it into the dressing room I noticed a sink and check if the water was running, which it was, I grabbed 3 rags and soaked them in water then handed Trudy two of the

"Sheri, are you still with me? Sheri, come on girl stay with me, Stay with me Sheri" Trudy said while trying to get Sheri to keep her eyes open

I sat on the floor next to Trudy slightly panicking when heard people walking and yelling

"Fire department. Call Out" I looked to Trudy and started to yell

"Here, we're in here" I yelled as many time as i could before i started coughing again

The door swung open and revealing Mouch, Kelly, and Matt

"Okay lets get you ladies out of here" Kelly said while picking Sheri up while Mouch help Trudy and Casey helped me

"Are you okay are you hurt" He said going into protective friend mode.

"I'm okay" I said while coughing, matt picked me up bridal style and carried me out the building

"Hank" I said when I seen my boyfriend who looked more pissed than ever, once he heard me he rushed to Casey who was helping me stand

"OH thank god" Hank said relived to see me

"You're going to med" Hank said with Matt agreeing

"We don't need any more surprises today" Matt said

"Hank you take her, ill try and meet you both later I got to go" Matt said to his two closest friends as he turned to go back into the building with his squad

--------- Third person POV ---------

Hank rode in the back of the ambulance with Y/N to the hospital, holding her hand the whole time

At the hospital Y/N was put into a trauma room and checked over thoroughly as she was close to the blast

"Okay you seem to have no major injury's, I am going to do some blood work, and put you on some oxygen for a few hours to get your levels back to normal, but other than that you seem fine and should be able to go home by tonight" Dr. Halstead said

"Thank you" Y/N replied before Will left

"You should go back to work, ill be okay" Y/N said to hank as she laid her head back onto the pillow and looked up at Hank

"No I should be here with you" He protested shaking his head

"I'll be okay I will call you if I need anything you should be out there helping your team" Y/N said

"Fine but i will be back to check up on you soon" Hank said

"Okay" Y/N said with a small smile, Hank pressed his lips to hers and left, soon after Will came back into the room

"Okay your blood work is back" Will stated "You both look good, try and keep it easy for the next few days, no heavy lifting for at least a week" He said

"Wait both" Y/N said

"Oh, you didn't know. Congratulations, Y/N your pregnant" He said with a smile "I'll have Nat come in for an ultrasound to see how far along you are" he stated before being called out for another trauma

Matt walked into the room still in his turnouts

"Hey peach, how are ya?" He asked with a smile

"I'm okay" Y/N said with a small smile

"I have a request though" Y/N said with a big smile looking at him

"what?" He said looking at me suspiciously

"Chick-Fil- A" Y/N said with puppy dog eyes

"Your lucky I like you, ill see what I can do" He said before kissing my head and leaving

Nat came in a little while after and we did the ultra sound and Y/n is 5 weeks pregnant, soon after Nat left both Hank and Matt walked in

"Hey baby" Hank said as he kissed my head

"I came with your food but I cant stay long" Matt said holding up the fast food bag

"Yay thank you" Y/N said happily, they all sat for a while and talk, later on Matt left and not long after Y/N was discharged she and Hank made their way home

Y/N sat on the couch and put her feet in  Hanks lap letting him rub her feet

"Hey, We need to talk" Y/N said moving her feet from Hanks lap and moving closer to sit next to him

"What wrong, Hun" Hank asked worriedly

--------- Y/N's POV ---------

"So I got some news after you left the hospital earlier" I stated looking at Hank " and it's good news depending on how you take it and if you don't take it good then I don't know what I'm going to do be-" I said rambling only being cut off by Hank

"Hey, hey, hey take a breath and try to calm down alright" Hank said while pulling me into his lap, taking a few deep breaths I was able to calm down

"I'm pregnant" I said looking into his eye's

"A-Are you sure" He asked looking at me with hope, I nodded and he pulled me close to his body

We stayed like that for a while and I could feel my self falling asleep in the warmth of Hanks arms

I felt Hank lift me and carry me to our bedroom he laid me down and got in bed next to me, that night Hank's  arms felt tighter around my waist and I could feel his hand resting against my still flat stomach

The next morning Matt had come over for brunch and we told him he was over the moon to become an uncle just as Hank and I are over the moon to become parents

--------- Authors Note --------- Aaahhh I finally finished this story and I am proud because I have worked so hard on this request over the past week! If you find any typo's please let me know I did my best to fix them as I went!!

Thank you for reading have a god day/ night love ya byeeeeee

[starshine-hockey-girl]

Teddy & Lex

One of director's cut for Teddy and Lex world is the change to place Teddy/Lex in the same universe as Sidney and Evie from Never Ever Have I. Over the next few months I will be going back to change it to the best of my abilities. The timelines don't exactly work out, but I am going to fudge it a bit.

Here is a preview of how they meet again.

At the WAG brunch:

Teddy turned beet red and hid her face. Catherine prodded her to tell the story which Teddy obliged. “Oh my god, that’s why Seguin lost his mind and went after Jamie? and you told Crosby off?” Catherine exclaimed, “I have to tell Evie this. She will die.”

Teddy asked, “Who is Evie?” The group collectively sighed and pursed their lips together.

Catherine sighed, “Evie is the woman that Crosby is dating and is obsessed with. I’ll introduce you to her. You’ll like her.” 

At the dinner for Lex:

Once the table ordered the their drinks and appetizers, Teddy asked “Was Evie unable to come tonight? I was looking forward to meeting her.”

Sidney’s head popped up, “Evie? my Evie?”

Teddy glanced at Sidney and smiled, “That’s your girlfriend’s name, right?”

Sidney pursed his lips, “That is correct. How do you know Evie?” She grinned, “ I don’t know her. I was told that I should meet her since she would be amused by our disagreement in March.”

Sidney blushed, “Evie will be here soon. She had a late meeting at work.”

Teddy looked at him and grinned, “I look forward to meeting her.” She looked past Sidney and saw a familiar face walking towards the table. “Evie? Evie Montgomery?” she asked as she stood up and walked towards the brunette approaching her.

Evie’s mouth pursed momentarily as she searched her memory, “Teddy? Teddy Baxter?” They both nodded and came together in an embrace. “What? What are you doing here?” Evie asked.

Teddy answered, “I am here with my boyfriend Lex. I mean Jamie-Jamie Oleksiak. He plays for the Penguins.” Teddy turned to look at Sidney, “Wait, are you Sidney’s Evie?”

Evie glanced over at her boyfriend, “That’s me. Sidney is my boyfriend.” They returned to their seats and Evie kissed Sidney’s cheek. The collective group stared at the two Texans for an explanation. “Teddy and I went to the same high school. We lost touch during college.”

“Yes, Evie and I graduated together. She ended up going to Tech and stayed behind….” Teddy’s voice trailed off when the unpleasant memory of her ex, Chaz, resurfaced.

Evie picked up on the clue. She didn’t know all the the details, but knew that Chaz was bad news. She quickly changed the subject, “So Sidney was tell you about his Evie? Why?”

Teddy smiled at the save, “Catherine thinks that you will interested in a disagreement that I had with Sidney in March. It must have been before your time. He surely would not have behaved that way if you had any influence over him.”

Catherine joked with Sidney, “Did she really tell you to fuck off?”

Teddy grimaced, “I’d prefer not to relive it. In fact, I would like to apologize to Sidney for my rudeness. You didn’t deserve the majority of what I said.”

Sidney gazed at Teddy, “Apology accepted. Again, I apologize for dragging you into my chirping. I really didn’t know that Seguin would crack like that especially after he went to bat for Oleksiak in December.”

Lex choked on his water, “Seguin did what in December?”

Teddy covered her face, “Oh my God! This is bad. I am so embarrassed”

Sidney chuckled, “Should I tell the story?”

Teddy groaned, “No, I will suffer through it. It was the day that Lex, I mean Jamie, flew to Pittsburgh after the trade. It was a horrible day for me and I ended up at Tyler’s house because I couldn’t stand to be in my apartment.” She paused while every looked and took a breath.

Lex squeezed her hand, “Hey, you don’t need to tell it now, Bliss.”

She continued, “I was worried sick about Jamie so I begged Tyler to call Sidney to make sure that he was okay. I just needed to know and I humiliated myself in the process. Not my finest moment.”

Lex kissed her temple, “So Sid here was your inside help to get my birthday gift to me? Thanks man.”

Teddy dabbed her eyes as Evie exclaimed, “So sweet! Beso, you helped her out?”

Sidney joked, “ It was the most awkward and adorable conversation I have ever had in my capacity as captain. You have yourself a keeper Oleksiak.”

[dreamsclock]

Dream cracking and telling Quakity how to revive people but hes babbling in a an old Deity Launage he couldnt even translate if he wanted to, trust me he wishses he could, and Quakity cant understand him buy ay thr same time knows Dream isn't talking nonsense and so why cant he understand what the hell is this??? Each word seems to strike deeper and deeper fear into him.and he swears hes hearing n seeing shit he knows isnt a potion effect so he shuts Dream up and leaves him to cry and beg for something, neither of them know what it is, Dream just keeps saying he did what Quakity wants and cant seem to elaborate past that, n Quakity goes off to stew alone in the words that make his skin creep as old entities that hold the world together gently tug on his soul and mind if to tease their power to rip it apart like a pickaxe through skin and Quakity has has a screaming ranting amd honestly sorta scared n desprate fit at the nothing and vowes he doesnt need Dream and he'll leave him to rot alone forever and just forget about him and npt pass on his story so his memory will die sooner, amd things go still. Like how it was when he died still, and Quakity is both relived and to scared about what might happen if he ever breaks that promise. And what that means for the bet...

oh ym god so this has inspired me so much ,, sorry from the slight deviation from your ask BVSDKSD !! the basic premise of this au is that the revive book is only supposed to be known by the admin, in this case, c!dream, and it’s this knowledge that drives people to madness and death. for c!schlatt, he chose to die before the knowledge killed him, and in this au, c!quackity gets the knowledge from c!dream, walks out of prison shaken up after receiving the information in a language his MIND doesn’t know but his BODY is terrified of,,, he breaks down under the weight of the words and power, and this is how c!sapnap and c!karl find him. at this point in the au, c!quackity has been sleeping for three days, and his condition has only been worsening.....

this would be fun to continue if people like it, so feel free to ask me to if you wanna !! :D i’m tagging it as -> mirak au (which is a word from my conlang that means mercy!!). if you want any translations for anything q says, lemme know :D

warnings: sickness/fever, ‘possession’ (in that q speaks in different languages and doesn’t act like himself), blood, mild horror elements

Quackity’s skin is warm. Too warm. Warm enough that even Sapnap frowns, unsettled by the change in his fiancé’s temperature.

“He doesn’t feel good at all,” he murmurs, face pinched with worry. He hasn’t been sleeping well since Dream has been put in prison, and Karl watches him now, wonders how many hours Sapnap will spend watching over a feverish Quackity tonight. “He’s way too warm. Touch his forehead.”

Karl smooths back the hair plastered to Quackity’s forehead, touches it gently and recoils. Sapnap is right. It’s far, far too warm; cursing the gods and anyone of a higher power who cares enough to watch over them, he sits down on the bed, fiddling with the cuffs of his hoodie. “Get him some water, maybe? Or- I don’t know, something cool. We need to try and bring his temperature down. He’s burning up.”

Sapnap, reluctant to leave Quackity’s side, fidgets, until his shoulders slump and he gets back to his feet. “Be right back,” he murmurs, vanishing out the door and leaving a trail of smoldering footprints in his wake, “if anything changes...”

The words hover in the air between Karl and the silence and Quackity. If anything changes...

“Pīyet kī,” Quackity moans out through a shattered throat and bloody lungs, “pīyet kī.”

Karl’s hand finds his fiancé’s. “It’s okay, Q,” he whispers, heart aching, “you can do it. Please. You have to pull through.”

He doesn’t know what the ancient words are that Quackity speaks, but he recognises the language. It pulses under the In-Between constantly, thrums in his soul whenever Dream XD appears - it’s the language of the gods, which means Quackity is involved in far, far darker things than they’d originally thought. They’d found him covered in blood, shaking and sobbing, at the edge of the forest. It’s impossible to know what had happened to him - if anyone knows anything, nobody is talking. Their only hope is Quackity waking up-

If he wakes up, that is. In his feverish, unresponsive state right now, it’s hard to imagine when that will be.

“Water.” Sapnap shuts the door quietly behind him, and Karl almost smiles faintly. The water is only lukewarm when he takes it from his fiance - he’s been trying to keep his natural tendency to heat up anything he touches under control for Quackity, and in any other situation, Quackity would make a big deal about it and ramble about how wonderful Sapnap is, and he’d throw himself over both their laps to laze around for the rest of the day, and they’d... They’d be happy. “Has he... you know...”

“He’s been quiet,” Karl says, lying through his teeth and glancing back to Quackity’s shivering form. His cheeks are hollow. “Hasn’t said anything else. But-”

Quackity’s back arches and a long drawn out noise leaves him. Horrified, terrified, the cup slips from Karl’s hands, both of their attentions going to Quackity.

“Sōl- Sōl mirak na,” Quackity sobs, begs, through gritted teeth, “mirak.”

Karl hears that word a lot, whispered into his ears on his travels through time. Mirak. He thinks it means mercy, and he doesn’t think the gods talking to Quackity know the meaning of it.

“What are we supposed to do?” Sapnap’s voice wobbles. 

Karl can’t look at him for fear he’ll burst into tears. Instead, he pushes Quackity’s body back onto the mattress properly, hands trembling, trying his best to keep his fiancés both steady.

(There are strange markings on Quackity’s body that hadn’t been there before. Karl tries to ignore them. There’s a lot about Quackity recently he’s been trying to ignore.)

“We keep him alive,” he says, quiet, “because there’s nothing else to do.”

Nothing else to do until Ranboo can get here to try and help them figure out what’s wrong with Quackity. Nothing else to do until Quackity breaks out of this fever by himself. Nothing else to do until they learn more, and Karl has never felt more useless.

“Mirak,” Quackity whimpers, blood leaking from his lips, “ghria ki.”

Karl squeezes Quackity’s hand tightly in his, and pretends he doesn’t understand what Quackity is begging for.

[jimmys-zeppelin]

ghostin'

chapter twenty-four

(table of contents)

(chapter twenty-three)

october 29, 1976

sweetener

Ellie tapped her cigarette, simultaneously blowing the smoke past her lips as Roger took a sip of his coffee; his own cigarette balancing delicately between two fingers.

"I got your record while I was in Canada, had a quick listen. Your voice is beautiful, darling. The record sounds so good." Roger praised her. Her attempt to conceal her smile was ill-fated as the cigarette was back between her lips.

"Thanks Rog." Ellie replied, her voice muffled. "And I'm shocked you came down from Canada to see me. A simple phone call could've had the same affect," she chuckled.

"No, no, no. I had to come down here. Plus I would just be closed up in a hotel room with those three for a week or so anyway. Much rather be here with you celebrating." he said, taking a pause, "Could I actually stay with you while I'm here? The trip was so last minute I didn't have time to book a hotel."

"Of course. Just...uhm, excuse the mess when we get back." She exhaled her smoke, "Been a rough couple of weeks."

Until I can trust you again...I don't want to be with you anymore. The memory played in her mind on a constant loop like a broken record.

"What? But you've got a record out, and it's doing so well! You doing alright, love?"

"Uh—" Ellie started, ready to jump into another lie, but hesitated. She couldn't lie to Roger, though her deep consciousness begged her not to have to relive the past two weeks without Jimmy. Or her New York escapade for that matter...

"If you don't want to tell me, it's fine. Just want to know that you're okay, y'know...up here?" he said, tapping his temple a few times.

Ellie threw him a sheepish smile, how could I lie to him? she asked herself again. She sighed deeply, "Jimmy and I," she trailed off, "we, uh," she tapped her cigarette on the ashtray again, "we called it quits."

Roger stood up immediately, engulfing the blonde in a hug, "El I'm so sorry. What happened?" he asked as he took a seat again.

"We just disagreed about things and I did what I had to do...I don't wanna get into it."

"No worries." Roger said, taking a seat across from her again. A pregnant pause punctuated the end of the topic, "So, uh, Fred told me there's a party at the Hyatt tonight. Not sure if you'd like to attend...get your mind off things."

Ellie's eyes met his, a look of nervousness on her face as she plucked her cigarette from between her lips, "what kind of party?" she asked as the smoke left her mouth.

"I'm assuming Halloween. I can call Freddie up and ask him." Roger replied, pointing to the pay phone just on the corner a few feet from them.

Her expression soured, "A Halloween party? I don't even have a costume."

"Well there are dozens of stores selling 'em. Just pop in and grab whatever."

"Right," Ellie chuckled. Unconvinced.

"Do you not want to go?"

"I—well—"

"We could do something else if you're not interested. I'm sure there are bars and clubs all over the place." Roger said, almost defeated and pushing his cigarette around on the ashtray before him.

"Zeppelin's staying at the Hyatt. I was there a few days ago to give Jimmy something. I don't know when they're leaving, he didn't tell me." Ellie said.

"Oh." Roger said, surprised.

"Yeah."

"We don't have to go to the Hyatt." he said finally. Then, with a sigh, "Wanna get outta here?"

"Please." Ellie said, putting out the cigarette that was practically a stub between her fingers, reaching for her purse to grab her car keys.

"Right...Right. Well—Alright, then, Fred. I'll call you back...Bye." Roger said, slapping the phone back onto the wall in a nonchalant manner. "El!" he called as he began walking through the house.

"Rog!" She called back from her bedroom. She held a heap of bedsheets in her arms while her mattress remained bare.

"Pack your bags!" he exclaimed, "We're going—oh!" he stopped himself short upon walking in the doorway and seeing her strolling pantsless around her bedroom, "Sorry, I didn't mean to just walk in."

"Don't be ridiculous. Nothing you haven't seen before. I was just getting changed and I realized my sheets haven't been washed in God knows how long and then...again, I'm sorry for the mess."

"Pish, don't be ridiculous." he mimicked her, flashing a smile at the blonde, which she returned with a laugh.

"Why am I packing my bags?" Ellie asked, now rummaging through a drawer for some pants, picking out an odd orange pair.

"Fred's throwing a Halloween party back in British Columbia he wants us to come."

"Uhm—" Ellie stammered, "I don't have a costume."

"He said he'll get you one. Fred's costume parties never disappoint."

Ellie picked up the maid's outfit that was laid out on the sofa with her eyebrow raised. She had curves, but nothing enough to pull off the outfit. The door opened behind her, and Freddie rushed up to her. "What do you think?"

"I don't know Freddie, it looks a little small. Plus I don't have the body to—"

"Oh, good heavens, the maid outfit is for Roger. This is yours, darling." Freddie said, redirecting her attention to the short white dress hanging on the back of the door. "you should know what to do with the stethoscope and hat."

"Is this a nurse's outfit?"

"A sexy nurse, dear. Now! Get dressed. If you need me, just ask anyone they'll probably be able to find me."

"Okay," Ellie replied hesitantly, "Thanks Freddie."

"Of course, dear!" He exclaimed as he shut the door behind him.

Ellie eyed the white dress before her. The mere shape of it intimidated her, but she began to strip her jeans and fitted top from her body anyway.

She began with the white sheer stockings first. Then, after having squeezed into the tiny white dress, her breasts on full display—one wrong move and she was done for—and a pretty little headband with a cross on it to top it all off.

The blonde touched up her makeup in the small mirror on the wall, the red lipstick being a bold choice for the night, but it was after all a costume.

The first person she spotted upon exiting the dressing room was Brian, his tall head of curls making him stick out like a sore thumb. Ellie approached him, lightly touching his shoulder before making herself known before him. A smile spread on the lanky man's face before his visage clearly fell to her chest for a half second. She pretended she hadn't noticed.

"Hey, Brian!" she exclaimed over the music, "Have you seen Roger anywhere?"

"Uhh, yeah," he replied, recollecting himself, "last I saw he was by the bar," he pointed out just where he'd last seen his drummer friend. Ellie thanked him before rushing off in that direction.

Her palms were sweating.

The drummer seemed to be deeply engaged in conversation with another partygoer. Before Ellie could even catch Roger's attention, the other person had gone—thankfully she didn't have to cut into the conversation. Quickly, Roger turned around to face her, not knowing she was standing right there. His jaw hung open the slightest bit before the stammering started.

"El, you look great," he finally managed, looking down into the cups in hands and handing Ellie one.

"Thanks, Rog. You'll look great once you get your costume on too," she chuckled, taking a sip of the drink.

"Oh God, what's Fred picked out for me, then?"

Ellie couldn't help but giggle, "go on and find out," she said, pointing back in the direction of the dressing room. "Think you may need some help though...I saw a pair of tights."

Roger exclaimed in fright, "absolutely not."

"I wanna see your reaction," she said, taking another sip of the beverage before following his lead back to the dressing room.

"What....the fuck?" Roger asked, mainly to himself

"The nurse and the maid. Quite the duo I think."

"I'm gonna kill him." he muttered.

"Oh, come on, I think you can do it."

"Yeah but I don't have the body, nor the..." he trailed off as he turned around, Ellie stood just behind him, peering over his shoulder while she adjusted her fingers as they gripped her cup.

"The what?" She asked, at first confused, then realizing as she saw where his eyeline fell, "the tits?!"

Roger began to stammer, running a hand through his hair, "No! Not—not—"

"Rog, your tits are gorgeous," Ellie said, any inkling of amusement gone from her tone. When his cheeks flushed, the blonde couldn't help but laugh out loud.

He looked at the costume once again, sighed and spoke, "Give me fifteen minutes."

"I'll be outside if you need me," Ellie patted his back, making her way back into the hall. She bopped along to the music as it thumped loudly in her chest. A new disco song she swore she'd heard before at a different club somewhere. Something about a Swedish pop group. All she knew, though, was that she liked it.

Roger emerged from the room about five songs later. His posture was awkwardly bent forward.  The dress fit like a glove, and Ellie had to admit that he had the body for it, despite him saying otherwise. For a cross-dressing man, she thought he looked hot. Ellie put a hand on his back, forcing him upright. She laughed at how he managed to look even more uncomfortable.

"I see you got the stockings on just fine."

"A fucking hassle," Roger muttered.

"Your tits look amazing, though."

"So do yours."

"Ohmygod, are we, like, bosom friends now?" Ellie exclaimed, putting on her best Valley Girl accent.

"What friends?"

"Bosom friends! Like in Anne of Green Gables?"

"I didn't read that."

"Of course you didn't, look at you, you're a slutty maid."

"Says the one with her breasts practically hanging out the dress."

Ellie straightened herself triumphantly, stamping her feet as well, "It's a stylistic choice." 

"Oh yeah, I bet," Roger laughed, extending his elbow to her, "Let's dance, shall we?"

She caught him staring a numerous amount of times that night, his mouth almost watering to get his face in her chest. Had she not been freshly heartbroken, she might've let him, but this combined with the fact that she'd just had another rendezvous in New York would not be good for her mental health....nor for her track record.

As the two grew more and more intoxicated, the more they clung onto each other as the night went on. Never leaving the other's side, even to get more drinks. People definitely had taken notice—especially Freddie, while in his own indulging escapades—and Ellie was far too shitfaced to actually care. For the first time in a while she was having fun with a good friend.

That was, until the coke was brought out.

"No, no, I don't mix blow with my drinks," Ellie said when she was offered; surprisingly alert for how drunk she was.

"Oh, come on, once won't kill you." A man dressed like a bad excuse for a scarecrow insisted, "One line."

Ellie laughed, "only when I'm in the comfort of my own home," she declined again, "I don't really know anyone here."

"You know Roger."

She looked over at the blond. He was just as gone as she was—if not more with his hazy eyes and slumped demeanor. Ellie shook her head again, "sorry, guys." she said, getting up, though wobbly on her feet, "anyone got a cig?"

"Hey," a light-toned voice said as the back door to the club clattered shut.

Ellie looked up, it was Roger. Scooting over on the crate she sat on, she made room for him to sit.

"It's warm out," he remarked.

"I know," she replied, "odd for October."

"You live in California, though, isn't it always warm?"

"Yeah, but I grew up in New York. They actually have seasons over there," she chuckled, offering Roger her cigarette to bum off of.

Graciously, he took it. Taking a long drag, he let out a relieved breath as he exhaled, "This tastes like shit."

"I know." She took the cigarette back, taking another drag before flinging it to the concrete and putting it out with her shoe, "English ones are better."

"Amen to that."

"Jimmy would bring me a few bulk packs when he came visit. They were the best."

"What kind?"

"Dunhill."

Roger hummed in delight, "oh yes. Those are great." He paused for a beat, "I can get them for you."

"Oh. No, Rog, it's fine. You don't have to."

"Quiet," he said, "Do you want to go back inside?"

Ellie fiddled with her fingers. She was already missing the cigarette she'd just put out. Their eyes met, then, without another word, she shook her head.

Roger extended a hand, "I think there's a diner 'round the corner. We can get changed, then get something to eat?"

"I like the sound of that. I'm tired," Ellie replied, taking his hand in hers as she let out a yawn.

"Fred's parties are notorious for being exhausting." he said as they made their way back inside. The music was loud on the dance floor as the two made their way behind the DJ to the room where their clothes and belongings were.

"But I had a great time, tonight, Rog. Really. Thanks for getting me out of the house."

"You deserve a distraction from him, El."

Ellie knew of the him in question, but made no effort in decoding his words. She nodded with a small smile as they entered the dressing room.

---

masterlist | playlist

Taglist: @diaryofafan17 @tophats-n-lespauls @witchesdust @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @calico-skiess @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx if you want to be added to the list!

[vanilla-vivillon]

"we're exes and we meet again" maybe?

Oooooooooh interesting!!! I decided to do a Genya Safin x David Kostyk one because I haven’t done that yet for some reason

Also college AU yes please.

Genya Safin knows what she wants

And what she wants is to get through her studies

Become a plastic surgeon

Support her friends

Maybe get a cat

What she doesn’t want is to meet her high school ex at a party

She doesn’t want to talk with him for hours

She doesn’t want to relive the hurt

But the universe never does care for what we want does it

“C’mon Nazyalensky it will be fun!” Nikolai was trying to convince Zoya to come to the party he was throwing in his dorm

Nikolai was throwing a party to celebrate the start of there third year at Stanford

“Nikolai there is a lot of studying we should be doing instead of drinking our cares away” Zoya shot back

“Genya, love, please knock some sense into Zoya?”

“It could be fun, plus the school year started two weeks ago. No profesor is going to assign a big test anytime soon” Genya said

“You have never met Proffesor Baghra” Zoya said Speeding up

They were all walking to the dormitories together

Zoya was studying law. She wants to be a lawyer

“Are you really gonna let some old hag with a stick up her ass ruin your fun?” Genya retorted stopping in front of them

After a long pause zoya finnally relents and says “Fine. I’ll go, but for you, that way your not stuck with Alina and Mals drama”

Ever since Alina started screwing the professor with the the dreamy dark eyes and looked far to good to ever be a professor, mal had been insufferable

Flashing his million dollar smile Nikolai turned towards Zoya “I knew you would see sense”

“Now leave my sight before I change my mind” Nikolai sped off towards his dorm no doubt to finish preparations for tonight

Genya typically enjoyed parties

Cool people, cool music, cool boys

The list went on

Reapplying her deep red lipstick Genya turned towards her roommate Alina

Alina Starkov was a foster kid bouncing around homes in a small town, Keramzin.

She and her friend Mal felt so out of place in California

Genya helped her a lot in the first year and after some drama in there second year friendship was finally back on track

“Okay how do I look?” Genya asked giving a little spin

She chose a short red dress with a black leather jacket and thigh high black boots

“You look Perfect” Alina complimented finishing up on her own eyeliner

“Of course I do”

Alina laughed that fluttery sound that had become far to rare these days

“Listen Alina, I’m worried about you”

Alina took a pause before answering “I’m fine Genya”

“Alina you’re sleeping with your professor”

“So what!” Alina snapped “We’re both adults! Besides I don’t want to talk about this tonight, let’s just go to the party”

Genya let out a sigh

Sometimes Alina could be the most stubborn woman on earth

“Fine”

Loud music was blaring through the speakers Nikolai borrowed from Mal

Genya was socializing with some of her friends

While Genya did like parties the constant people was always a little stressful for her

So after giving some dating advice Genya went to go grab some beer

Pouring it Genya reflected

She was doing well in her classes, most of her friends were okay, she personally didn’t have a cat but across the hall from her is some dude Harshaw who did

one thing was missing

Him

Journals and glasses and caramel candies

Genya had been in love once in her life

And it’s seemed once was all she would ever get

“Oh sorry!” Genya exclaimed accidently spilling beer on someone

Looking up she lost her breath

There he was

All brown hair and wide eyes and sunkissed skin

And all the memories came crashing back

Geny first fell in love with him in the sixth grade

Well not love really

More like awe.

Back then he was really into legos

He built this giant airplane that Genya thought was so cool

But they first talked in seventh grade

They were partners in a group project

David hadn’t been very interested in Genya then

But Genya even then loved the way his brain worked

But she never said anything

In there sophomore year of high school after years of being friends Genya finally got the courage and told him her feelings

David was so suprised then he had to leave the room and come back two minutes later to say he reciprocated her feelings

They started dating and were inseparable

Whenever David had been pulling an all nighter on some new idea she would go over to his house and bring him some Carmel candies

Whenever she raved on about this new surgery technique he would listen and give her that soft beautiful smile he rarely showed anyone

But there happiness came crashing down in senior year

David was going to go to MIT all the way in Massachusetts while Genya wanted to go to Stanford in California since she was a kid

At first they were going to do long distance

But it didn’t work out

They both got busy

And didn’t talk

And Genya hated having a boyfriend who was never there

There was never some big fight

Never some big cheating scandal

One day Genya posted a picture of her on a date with the cute classmate who winked at her and that was that

They never saw each other again

But that might change tonight where she met those impossible chocolate eyes again

“What are you doing here?” Genya said after her shock

“Genya, I…. I live here” David said stuttering

Clearly he was just as suprised as she was

“Hey Genya you meet my new roommate David!” Suddenly Nikolai appeared “He just transferred from MIT”

Transferred

He transferred

David Kostyk transferred to Stanford

The one who got away was standing right in front of her

“Do you two know each other?” Nikolai asked sensing the tension

Ignoring him, Genya said “would you like to talk outside?”

After knowing David for years Genya knew she should probably initiate conversation

David gave a slow nod ignoring his roommate’s bewildered face

Walking outside they turned to each other again

He had gotten cuter if that was even possible

“So…. You transferred?” Genya attempted to start talking

“MIT was great, but it felt kinda isolating. So when Nikolai suggested transferring… I took him up on the offer”

Oh

Oh

That made sense

David always had a hard time making friends

In high school Genya practically had to force him into her friend group

It mustve be hard all alone

Genya was the opposite

Although all through elementary school she was ruthlessly bullied and sophomore year of college was complicated, she had always been able to make friends

“Well I’m glad your here now” Genya said looking away to hide her blush

“I think I’m glad to”

David and Genya talked the whole night

About there studies and friends

Genya couldn’t way to introduce him to Alina

They had a lot in commmon

Things between the two weren’t perfect

But then again in matters of the heart it never was

Genya wasn’t sure of what she wanted

But if she had a Carmel loving genius by her side she might be able to be okay with that

Omg it’s finally done. This has to be one of the most difficult things I’ve written. I didn’t enjoy it at all but I’m really glad I went through with it. Thank you @ninamorozova and @confused-as-all-hell for encouraging me to complete this.

Thank you @wafflesandschemingfaces for the prompt

If yall really like this I might make a part two with David’s perspective

Please reblog. Likes are nice but te logs actually help

My ask box is open and I take any Grishaverse requests

[seodami]

Dearest treasure | KTH

|PART1| |PART 2| |PART 3|

Summary: Every kid in town was afraid of Kang Taehyun, the old -slightly creepy- man living alone for years and years in the same run down house. Every night he would go into his backyard with a shovel and dig a hole into the earth. No one knows why and there are kids rumouring about him burying people. Jungwon was a bright kid, wanting to find out the truth behind this widely spread rumour for a school project. And what he found out would change his life forever.

Genre: fluff, angst, flashbacks, story of life, snippets of life, tiny bit humour

Warning: old Taehyun, mention of death, mention of suicide/suicidal thoughts, death

Word count: 10152 (all 3 parts)

Pairing: Kang Taehyun x reader, (Yang Jungwon)

Note: Wow okay so this story took me a while to write and I listened to hours of das music to finish this🥺 this was honestly an emotional rollercoaster. But I’m so glad it’s finally finished so I can post it on here yayyy!!! I hope you like it an enjoooyy (please tell me if you cried I would really appreciate your responses haha bc I did)

Main masterlist

2089 (present)

Deathly silence hung in the air as thick as smog. In Jungwons eyes pooled tears, ready to spill over the edges to fall into free fall and drop heavily onto his trousers. His heart was burning, not finding any suitable words of comfort or understanding for the old man in front of him. His throat felt like it was tied up so tightly, he couldn’t breathe. Oh, how didn’t he know? Oh, how could anyone talk bad behind his back? So much hurt…

Mr. Kangs head hung low, not daring to make any other noice than his sniffling nose. Hot tear drops were silently dropping down, it felt suffocating just watching him so full of hurt and sorrow. Suddenly Jungwon felt sorry to let him relive his whole life together with the terrible pain even the young boy could feel.

“I- I…I never could…forgive myself. It was my fault-“ the once handsome mans face was dark and the wrinkles now seemingly even deeper full of regrets and unspoken words. “You wouldn’t understand, boy-“

Jungwon couldn’t form any appropriate words at that moment and let the sadness let him take away just for a little longer. His story was heavy… he felt like he just heard something he shouldn’t have heard. Something so private and fragile. It had touched him more than he had thought.

“I didn’t want to live anymore… it was all worthless since then… I had no motivation to keep going.” His voice became a tad more stable, yet still quiet and weak. His tired eyes met the innocent boys and for a second the old man could see his younger self inside his big brown eyes. Sadness and nostalgia rolled over him and he averted his gaze.

“I tried ending my life many times since that day- it never worked no matter how much I wanted it… and then I just…I just mouldered…alone, broken- and just a shell of my old self. I wasn’t the once happy, bright, clever boy anymore. I could never be that again…”

Jungwons heart felt heavy, breathing wasn’t bearable. His hands unconsciously reached forward to the tiny lost figure sitting in his sunken mould. It was a simple touch but for Mr. Kang it was the first reassuring and comforting gesture he had received in a long long time. It made him tear up stronger, still staying silent. The young boy wanted to be there for the old man. He wanted to show him that he wasn’t alone in this.

Moments of depressing, yet healing silence passed, just the ticking of the old clock in the dark living room was heard. “I’m so sorry Mr. Kang…” Jungwon finally whispered, unsure if the man spoken to even heard it. He couldn’t do much but be there in this moment. Quite honestly he felt like crying himself. But he wanted to stay strong for him.

“One day-“ Mr. Kangs voice shook a little but he kept talking. “-I remembered the time capsule. My dearest treasure. So long ago. And I made it my life mission to find it. One last moment to hold onto and…look back to.” A thick single tear slowly rolled down Jungwons cheek. So that was it. That’s why… and everyone had dragged the vulnerable man down, putting even more dirt into his deep wounds.

“I-I searched everywhere. But…but i just…forgot. It’s my last wish before I finish this…” life he wanted to say. Finish his life. It made the school boy unbelievable sad. Oh how much he must’ve suffered his whole life. And before Jungwon could’ve decided differently, a strong feeling of wanting to help and support creeped up to him.

“I’m gonna help you Mr. Kang. We will find your treasure.” Jungwon reassuringly took the heavy, wrinkled hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. It was the first time since that day, that he felt hope again. Just a tiny tiny splinter but it was there. Hope.

The next hours, both of the males digged holes through the whole garden, not saving any sweat, too focused on finding the mans greatest desire. Mr. Kang had already reached his limit after three holes, following with the 14 year old boy leading him towards an old wooden garden bench to rest on. Jungwon on the other hand was full of verve and energy to fulfill his dearest wish. To find his dearest treasure. Mr. Kang watched him with surprise and thankfulness, never had anyone gone all the way out to help him with something so important to him. There was never someone who he could’ve went to. After that day, he had broken off all the contact with his old friends. He wanted to feel alone at some point. He deserved the pain. That’s what he had always told himself. But now he was old and weak and just wanted nothing more than to be finally reunited with his beloved family. He missed you everyday. He heard his daughters laughters everyday. And he saw his son running around outside in the garden everyday. He finally wanted to be with his family everyday.

It had already gotten dark and cold at this point, Mr. Kang had brought the hard working boy a jacket and a warm tea. The sun was already long gone, just the small lights from the veranda and from the street shined over towards them. Jungwon was still digging, his once tidy school clothes now full of dirt and dust and drenched in sweat. He couldn’t give up. He knew that. So he kept digging and digging. The moon was fondly watching at the pair below, shining just a tad brighter tonight for them. Short friendly small talk about school went quickly over to heartfelt conversations about life and this and that. Nobody, not even the moon, would’ve thought that the bitter, lonely 87 year old Taehyun and the bright, cheerful 14 year old Jungwon would’ve ever even crossed paths, yet life showed again how unpredictable and full of surprises it could be. This night, a tight bond between the two men was woven. So unexpected but yet so lovely.

The clock already told them it was 6 minutes before midnight when another noice cut through the silent night air. A metallic sound. Gasping, Jungwon threw the shovel away, excitement now rushing through his veins. He fell onto his knees, not caring about the moist soil on his trousers. His hands digged through the last part, brown earth now sticking behind his nails, and moments later, he pulled out a medium sized metal box, securely wrapped in plastic. Jungwon felt like he just won the Olympics, he felt like he did it. He did it…

A quick gaze onto the bench showed him the sleeping old man, now seeming even tinier than before. With shaky steps and a weird feeling of proudness and fulfilment, Jungwon waddled over to the sleeping form, gently waking him up. The box in his hands was tightly in his grasp, not letting go. Mr. Kangs heavy lidded eyes flew open in an instant when he saw the metal box in the boys arms. Tears burned in his thankful eyes, reaching towards it with shaking arms. Everything felt heavy, yet his heart felt the lightest it had felt in a long long time.

“Thank you…so much.” Tears were now unstoppable rolling down his cheeks. It squeezed Jungwons heart, knowing he could make this man happy again, fulfilling his last wish. The both of them moved up to the house again, warmth engulfing them with its now familiar scent. Comfort. The old man reassured the boy to stay but seeing the box being opened, Jungwon felt as if he got to see something way too private. But he stayed, looking over the sniffling mans shoulder when he pulled out a small pink toy dolphin. His hands were shaking. “This was my daughters. It was her favorite toy when she was…two years old.”

Taehyuns heart clenched, seeing all his treasures in front of him. He desperately pressed the small toy against his chest, letting all his emotions in. It was intense, yet it was all he ever wanted. Seeing the familiar drawings of a green giraffe, sitting on a cloud with a family next to it. He could read all their names above the figures. Oh Taehee…

Looking through the photographs, old memories surfaced and made the man tear up even heavier. He didn’t knew how much he really had missed them. It was as if his empty shell was slowly filled again, reliving all of your best and worst moments. He saw a picture on his old friends Hueningkais 18th birthday. All of his friends were there, cake smeared all across your faces, the brightest smiles someone could ever see. The day he had first met you… Another picture had all of your friends sitting around a small bonfire, being cuddled inside blankets. Taehyun saw his younger handsome self smiling unsure into the camera with you sitting beside him. He could only laugh sadly at the memories of your camping trip where he first had kissed you, the guilty feeling just as clear.

“She looks so happy here…” Taehyun noticed with a testy smile, gently touching your face on the picture, seeing you and him laying on a bed, arms tightly slung around your frame, as you held the camera. His large eyes showed nothing but the purest form of love as he looked over to you. Oh he was such a lovesick fool. “You were a pretty couple…” Jungwon whispered, glancing over the handsome young man and the pretty women. He wished to find someone in his life later, he could look at with just as much love as he did. Taehyun nodded, pulling out the next photo. It was the two of you kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris, big smiles on both of your faces. Taehyun remembered, it was when he courageously decided to fly around half the globe to you to fix your relationship. He didn’t want to give you up, thank god he didn’t. Another photograph showed you holding your first ultrasound picture, tears streaming down your face. You were both so young and already on the way to becoming parents. It was scary, yes it was one of the most scary moments in life but it was all worth it. The next picture showed you in the hospital bed, looking weak, yet happy. Taehyun was kneeing down next to you, his gaze focused on you and the tiny newborn baby in four arms. A tear dropped down onto the photo but he quickly wiped it away. “Our little Taehee…”

The next picture showed a kissing couple dressed in a gorgeous white dress and a neat black suit. The priest between them was smiling fondly at the newlywed couple. On another one he could see the couple dancing in midst of their guests, white petals laying all over the place. Taehyun sobbed, holding a hand over his mouth. Jungwons hand reassuringly squeezed his shoulder. He was there for him. Taehyuns and your parents were dancing next to you, he could see his friend Yeonjun and Beomgyu dancing with each other playfully and many more of their closest circle. It had been so long. And he missed it. It was such a happy memory.

There were other photographs with you being pregnant, both of your baby pictures, your friends and your parents and a ton of little Taehee running around bubbly in her adorable dresses and overalls. Taehyun hadn’t seen these pictures in a while and it tore his heart into a million pieces. The last picture was inside your new house, the house he never could bring over him to leave. You were all sitting on the carpet, smiling into the camera. The little baby boy snuggling closer in his blanket and the girl pressing a soft kiss onto his tiny head. Taehyuns arms were slung around your frame, head laying on your shoulder relaxing. They were so happy. So happy.

He pulled out an edition of your favorite book with a hand written text inside: ‘For Taehee and Taejun- may they find wisdom and happiness in their long lives. From mum and dad’ Taehyun remembered. Oh he remembered everything. You two would always read this book together since your honeymoon, where you discovered it in one of the local bookstores. Since then it had always be your favorite book. And it hurt him seeing his children never got to read it. Their future was just robbed because of one moment. It was unfair. Why did he get to live when they couldn’t? He never understood.

The last thing Taehyun pulled out of the box was the pink letter littered with dozen of glitter stickers. ‘To my love’ stood on top of it in your cursive handwriting. He gulped, knowing exactly this was made for him personally. It was the letter he dreaded reading. The moment he waited for. The reason he wanted to find this box in the first place. His love. Jungwon stood stiff and still next to him, not daring to say a word. With shaking fingers, he carefully opened the envelope without tearing it. He could immediately recognise your pretty handwriting and already teared up when he read over the first sentence. ‘To my dear love Taehyun, whom I always love’ with another nod, he dared reading through the heartfelt letter.

‘So this is where life led us, what? To be quite honest with you, my 17 year old me would’ve never thought about marrying the handsome boy from Hueningkais birthday party, let alone have his children and buy our first house together. Life went wild with us, am I right Tae? But I regret nothing. Not even when I stole your favorite hoodie out of your closet without you knowing. Everyone was so done with my reckless personality and I often felt misunderstood in my younger days as you know. But you just always seemed to just see the best in me. Even when I felt like giving it all up. You were always there for me. And you were the only one to fully understand and accept me how I am. This is something I never told you in person but I can’t remember how life was without you before. In my mind, you were always there and I know that you will always be there for our family in our long future. I hope when you read this, we are both still happily married, watching our children and grandchildren laugh about all our ridiculous photos inside this box. And Taehee, oh she must be so happy to see her favorite toy again haha. Taehyun, you are my best friend, my first love, my first heartache, my true soulmate and the best husband in the whole world. You are and will always be my love, no matter how time will turn our lives around. We are always together. I love you always,

Your dearest wife Y/N

(P.S. don’t worry about getting old, you are still my handsome prince I fell in love with!)’

At this point, Taehyun was a sobbing mess, not caring what the young boy might think of him. This letter had touched his soul, his deepest heart. He felt every word you’ve written just as if it was you whispering each of them into his ear. He never felt the urge that strong before to be by your side, hug you, kiss you all over your face, tell you how beautiful you were and whisper how much he loved you and would forever. His life made sense only with his family by his side. There was nothing left to live anymore for Taehyun. And he knew that for a long time already.

Jungwon in this moment didn’t knew what to do anymore. He felt like he had fulfilled his mission, making the old man happy for a last time. With quiet steps, he took his video camera, he totally had forgotten and put it in his backpack laying on the floor abandoned. It was his sign to leave, let the man dwell in his emotions and memories. He was done here. With careful steps he went closer to the sobbing man again, softly putting his hand on his shoulder. He looked up as if he knew what the boy was about to say.

A small smile was on his wrinkled lips, clenching on the boys heart. He weakly pushed himself up just to pull the sweaty, in dirt covered student into a warm embrace. It was the first hug since ages it felt like. The hug remembered Jungwon of his own grandmother and tears stuck in his throat. He missed her. “Thank you so much, Jungwon. You are a wonderful kid. You’ve fulfilled my dearest wish. I will forever be thankful to you. May you be blessed forever. You were the only one willing to listen. Thank you.” Jungwon nodded in his shoulder, trying not to burst into tears on the spot but failed nevertheless in the end. He was so glad seeing the happy man in front of him, now seeming even younger than before. The deep sunken eyes didn’t seem frightening anymore. They were warm and welcoming. He could see sparkles of youth inside them. Yes, Jungwon did the right thing.

When the clock showed sharply half an hour past midnight, Jungwon bid his farewell to the man, he weirdly would consider his friend now, knowing he could sleep well tonight. Taehyun insisted on him keeping the jacket he gave him as well as one of the pictures inside the box for his school project and as a token of gratitude. On his quiet walk back home, he smiled endearingly down to the old photograph he carefully held in his hand. It was the last picture. Where the family of four smiled happily into the camera, sitting onto the fluffy rug Jungwon recognised now. He would treasure this picture forever. It was a generous gift, knowing how important it had been to Mr. Kang. He was so thankful.

The next day, Jungwon excitedly presented his project in class. Even though his mother yelled at him concerned where he was until this late, he managed to edit the video for his project, tearing up in the process but still felt motivated to keep going. It was important that he made this his best project. Not for him or his grade, no, it was for Mr. Kang. He was determined to change everyone’s horrible opinion about the old man.

It was eye opening for everyone. Even Park Jongsong, the scary older student, couldn’t come up with a counter attack and stared wide eyed at the screen in front of the class. It was freeing, knowing that just a bit of courage and kindness could lead you to such wonderful moments. He changed everyone’s opinion about ‘Killer Kang’. And he managed to make an old sad man happy again.

After school, the kind student hurried over to Mr. Kangs house. In bright daylight, the garden looked like a battlefield with tons and tons of freshly digged soil laying all around. Now with a much happier feeling, Jungwon crossed the chaotic lawn, knocking energetically onto the old wodden door. After a while he still hadn’t heard any steps so he tried knocking again. “Mr. Kang? It’s Jungwon. I wanted to show you the finished project. It went amazing.” The boy excitedly bounced on the balls of his feet, too giddy to stand still. There was still no answer, so Jungwon made his way towards the backyard, now being familiar with every inch. He had a weird feeling in the pit of his stomache.

And when he saw the open veranda, the old man sitting in his mould on the old couch, Jungwon let out a relieved breath. With careful steps not to step inside one of the many holes in the ground, he made its way over to Mr. Kang, not without knocking on the wall outside. Still no answer. Maybe he hasn’t heard it or he was sleeping. Jungwon waddled over to the familiar couch, seeing Mr. Kang sitting in his usual spot with his eyes closed. He looked so peaceful, Jungwon first thought the old man was sleeping tightly. Yet when there was still no answers or reactions from his side and when he noticed there was no movement of his upper body, he understood…

Mr. Kang passed away last night. Tears welled up in Jungwons eyes and he heavily let them flow when he saw all the contents of the metallic box scattered around the small desk in front of him. The photos, sorted into time accuracy, the book untouched, the adorable drawings of his young daughter, the green giraffe smiling cheekily at him. The pink letter was open and the neat handwriting was still the same as yesterday. And in Mr. Kangs hands, layed the pink toy dolphin.

Jungwon went onto his knees beside him on the fluffy carpet, letting his hot tears fall freely without restrictions. He may had lost a friend today but he knew deep down, the old kind man was happily reunited with his family. He had gained everything he lost. And for that…how could Jungwon still be sad?

For now and forever, the courageous 14 year old boy, who acted righteous and kind, carried Kang Taehyuns life story out into the wide world, spread his last words so no one would forget the once mysterious man everyone feared to look at. Kang Taehyun, a man who got everything he wished for and then got it taken away from him. A man, who loved dearly. A man, whose story would never be forgotten.