#like. when I tell you I AUDIBLY gasped when seeing him during this part of the game?

[st4rcz4r]

The unbeaten, and dare I say unbeatable, Lone Wolf.

[nina-ya]

saw your request for NSFW requests, so what about embarrassed law during sex, either from your teasing or him getting in his own head?

a/n: hi!! i have no words other than I simply wrote this with one hand Pairing: Law x AFAB Reader WC: 2k CW: NSFW MINORS DNI edging, heavy teasing on readers' part, p in v sex, creampie • masterlist • ko-fi • discord server •

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The atmosphere between you and Law is thick, suffocating in the most delicious way, every inhale saturated with the musky, electric tension that neither of you can ignore. It clings to your skin, heavy and hot, a cocktail of anticipation that threatens to shatter with every passing second. Law sits rigidly beneath you, body coiled tight and taut. His breathing is shallow and uneven, as though he is struggling to keep himself together, but the faint tremor in his frame gives it away that he is barely holding on. 

Your lips skim the curve of his throat, tracing a path. The salty tang of his sweat mingles with the heat radiating off his feverish skin, and you can feel the frantic thrum of his pulse beneath your lips. He swallows hard when you linger at his collarbone, the sound audible over his labored breathing.

“Don’t be so shy now, Law,” you murmur, voice dripping with honeyed mockery, each word a tease curls into his skin. “Tell me what it is you want.”

His jaw tightens, lips pressing into a thin, stubborn line, but his hips tell you everything you need to know with that subtle twitch giving away his need. You pull back just enough to see the struggle etched across his face; the sharp features contorted, frustration flashing in those eyes as he struggles against your words and actions. 

“Are you okay there, Captain?” you tease, the lilt of your voice playful and cruel as your hand drifts lover, brushing against the hard, throbbing bulge against his jeans. His breath catches and a strangled sound rips from his throat as his hips jerk upward instinctively seeking your touch.

“No,” he grits out, voice tight, almost pained under the weight of his desperation. “I’m not okay.”

You hum in mock sympathy, letting your fingertips hover just above the waistband of his jeans, the ghost of your touch sending shivers down his spine. His muscles flex beneath your touch and his hands twitch at his sides, nails biting into his palms as if the faint pain might keep him from tearing you apart, to grab you and pull you closer, to make you give him what he so desperately craves. 

You finally grant him a taste of bliss, sliding your hand beneath the fabric. The moment your fingers wrap around his length and free him, a deep and broken groan spills from his lips. You can feel his hips buck into your palm in an attempt to seek more and you oblige, slowly stroking him in a rhythm that leaves him trembling. 

“Law…” you murmur, the name slipping from your lips like a taunt. “So needy… can’t even let me take my time with you, huh?”

The growl that tears from him is primal, raw, and the sound sends a thrill skittering down your spine. His chest rises and falls in shallow gasps and his body strains against his need for control. Every part of him is wound up and you can see it in the way his muscles strain, the way his hands are curled into fists by his sides, nails digging into the flesh of his palms, jaw locked, but even that doesn’t stop the desperate roll of his hips. 

You don't stop, your strokes gaining speed, grip tightening just enough to pull sharper and louder groans from him. The slick slide of his cock against your palm, the intoxicating weight of his desperation, and the sheer heat of his need sends a rush of heat blooming between your thighs, and you can’t help but tease him further, bringing him right there, so, so close to the edge.

and then you stop.

The sudden absence of your touch leaves him frozen and his entire body goes rigid as disbelief engulfs him. His lashes flutter as his eyes snap open, and the pained groan that escapes him is thick with yearning, a sound pulled from the deepest recesses of his frustration. 

Your sly smile only deepens as you rise onto your knees, letting the moment drag on a bit longer as you savor the way his chest heaves and his cock bobs against his abdomen. You settle over him, hovering just close enough that his swollen tip brushes against your folds, the sensation drawing a sharp hiss from his lips. His hands find purchase on your hips, grip tight as he fights the urge to just push you down onto him.

“Look at you,” you purr, voice dripping with wicked satisfaction as you slowly roll your hips just enough to let him glide against you. “So desperate… look at you leaking for me, Captain.”

The slick of your arousal coats whatever it touches and his head tilts back as he huffs out a shuddering breath. “Don’t… don’t do this right now,” he grits out, but the grip on your hips tightens contrasts his words. His body begs for you, even if his words don’t.

A wicked chuckle fills the air as you lean forward, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Don’t what? Hmm? Say it…use your words…” you murmur, each syllable dripping with a playful cruelty.

Your teasing earns a sharp inhale, and you can feel the insistent press of the head of his cock nudging against you as he silently pleads for relief. “Stop teasing, damn it…” he finally says, voice cracking slightly. 

Finally, you give him mercy- or so you let him think. You position yourself, letting the bulbous head of his length press against your entrance. The stretch is exquisite as you begin to sink down, inch by inch, and you can feel every ridge and vein of him filling you completely. His reaction is immediate and visceral as his fingers bruisingly tighten on your hips and a broken moan tears from his throat as you take him inside. 

“Fuck–” he hisses through his teeth, eyes snapping shut as his chest rises and falls with erratic breaths. “You feel- goddamn it-”

You pause for a moment, letting yourself adjust, and you feel the way he is throbbing inside of you, every pulse of his need echoing through your body. A shiver races down your spine and you can’t suppress the moan that escapes your own lips.

When you finally start to move, it’s slow and torturous - even for you- as your hips rock against him in a rhythm that is designed to unravel him piece by piece. The friction is maddeningly perfect; Law’s teeth sink into his lower lip, biting hard enough to nearly draw blood. But when he bucks his hips upward, desperate to meet your movements, your hands press firmly against his chest as a silent warning that you are the one in control.

Each roll of your hips sends him hurtling towards the edge and his body tenses and strains as he fights to hold on. But it’s a losing battle. After just a few more devastating movements, his breath catches, and he gasps sharply as his entire body goes taut beneath you.

“Shit, I’m–” he gasps out, his words dissolving into a cry as his cum coats your walls in hot, pulsing waves. His entire body shudders, his hands slipping from your hips to clench at the sheets below you instead. He trembles beneath you and his chest heaves as he gasps for breath, completely unraveled.

You smirk down at him and your movements slow to a languid grind as he rides out the last tremors of his orgasm. He is a beautiful mess: his face is flushed, body is glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, and his eyes are glazed with lingering ecstasy. “Already?” you ask in a sickly sweet tone, leaning down so your lips hover just above his. “I thought you had more in you, Captain.”

A groan of embarrassment rumbles from him as he brings one hand up to cover his face, hiding the deep maroon that creeps across his features. “Don’t,” is all he mutters, the single word filled with exasperation.

Your soft giggle dances in the air at the simplicity of his request, but you are far from finished. Without missing a beat, you resume your movements, your hips rolling against his once again as you now aim to chaise your own pleasure. The shift pulls a sharp gasp from Law as a hint of overstimulation sets in, his wide, dazed eyes locking onto you.

“Still so hard…” you breathlessly murmur as you grind down against him with a renewed purpose. 

Your hips grind harder, chasing that molten spark of pleasure that is bubbling up in your core. The obscenely wet slide of his cock twitching inside of you only adds to the sensations. Your head tilts back as a soft moan slips from your lips as you lose yourself in the way his length drags against every sensitive spot inside of you. 

Beneath you, Law huffs out and groans beneath you, the sound barely registering in your blissed-out haze. “You’re… unbelievable,” he mutters though there’s no heat behind his words- just a breathless awe laced with exhaustion. 

Your eyes flutter open to meet his, and the sight steals what little breath you have left. Flushed cheeks, disheveled hair sticking to his damp forehead, and those slightly parted lips releasing the sweetest of noises all paint a picture of utter ruin. His chest heaves with labored breaths, and despite the tremor in his arms, his hands slide back up to your thighs, inked fingers curling around them possessively. 

“You don’t get to tap out,” you pant, the words leaving your lips with an airy, satisfied rasp. “Not when - fuck - not when I’m this close.” 

Law curses under his breath, and you can feel one of his hands release your thighs and trail downwards, fingertips caressing your stomach before dipping lower. The moment his thumb brushes against your clit, you shudder at the sharp and electric sensation. He begins circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with an agonizing precision as he matches the rhythm of your hips. 

“Like this?” he grunts out as the pad of his thumb works you with the right amount of pressure.

“Fuck-- Law” you gasp, your movements faltering for just a moment as the dual sensations overwhelm you. “That’s--”

“I know,” he cuts in, lips twitching into the faintest of smirks. “I’ve got you.”

Golden eyes never leave you, dark and brimming with intensity and his parted lips tremble with each ragged breath you are squeezing from him. Even now, he can’t help but admire how utterly breathtaking you look. Your body is moving over his with wild abandon, the sweet melody of your moans is filling the air, and every inch of you is burning with life. It’s a sight that he wants to sear into his memory.

 His free hand down to your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as if coaxing you to let go, to shatter under his touch.

And you do. 

A sharp cry from his name bursts from you as your body jerks forward, tremors wracking your body violently with the sheer force of your orgasm. The waves of pleasure crest and wash over you until stars dance behind your closed eyelids. Your fingers dig into his chest as you ride the waves, your moans breaking into soft whimpers as the aftershocks ripple through you.

Law doesn’t stop and his thumb works at your oversensitive clit as he draws out every last shiver of your release until your thighs are shaking and weak pleas for mercy tumble out of you. Only then does he give you reprieve, letting his hands fall to your hips as you finally collapse against him, boneless and gasping for air. His arms wrap around you, equally spent as he presses a lazy affectionate kiss to your temple. 

“You’re insatiable,” he mutters, tone caught somewhere between fond exasperation and awe. 

You weakly laugh and your forehead rests against his shoulder as you try to catch your breath “And you love it.” 

“Yeah,” he murmurs in agreement, his hand lazily trailing up your sweat-slicked spine in a soothing caress as you both bask in the aftermath, tangled and entirely satiated. “I do.”

[hellokittykookies]

“3 words, 8 letters. I mean it” - J.JK - Mini (M)

Pairings : j.jk x fem! Reader

Genre : situationship, smut, slight fluff.

Contents : chuckblair inspired, limo sx, gossip girl parties setting, unprotected sex (yk what to do babes), riding, praisekink, comparing, big c!jk, slight public sex, not proofread, lemme know what i missed!

Notes : don’t expect too much yall. I’m trying a new writing style. The one that’s not too detailed that i write about everything but the character😭 tell me what you think about this? Should i make more smut? Idk i think i’m bad at smut, i’m more better at fluff and romantic stuff but i just wanted to try this. Xoxo gossip girl💋💋 Ive been watching the show and i love itt!! I love chuck and blair and i think i will def write more inspired by them. I loved the “3 words, 8 letters” line. It’s my favourite tbh.

“I knew you had a type…” his voice trails behind me. I didn’t bother to move or to face him but to just stay still and silent, silently enjoying his touch, the way his touch felt like warmth to my cold like skin, the way the world stops, and everythingstops once he touches me.

“I missed you.”

After Jungkook suddenly left me in Paris without saying a word during our vacation together, I was shattered. One minute, everything felt perfect. the Eiffel Tower lighting up the night sky, his laughter filling my heart with happiness as we explored and the next, the right side of my bed was gone . Broken, sad, left, and helpless. I spent the four remaining days locked away in the hotel room we had booked together.

At the airport, sitting alone in business class, I tried to distract myself, to feel anything other than the suffocating pain that clung to me. That’s when a man approached me. At first, I didn’t want to look at him, but when I did, I felt a sharp ache in my chest. His sleeve tattoos, the undercut, the piercings. it all felt too familiar, too much like him.

When I learned he lived in the same city as me, I impulsively invited him to my upcoming party. I told myself it was a distraction, a way to move on. Maybe even a chance to prove to myself that I didn’t need Jungkook anymore.

I thought that was the end of us. I truly did.

Until now.

“You left me… alone in a country whose people I don’t even know,” my eyes keep shut, trying hard not to let a tear out.

“I’m sorry, honey… let me make it up to you?”

“I have Ian now, Jungkook,” I try to keep my tone straight.

“No, you won’t,” he chuckles deeply. “You’re only with him to replace the missing presence that you can’t live without.” His hands trail around my jawline. “And that is me”

“Three words, eight letters. I mean it,” his tone changes into a soft one, one that I only hear when he wakes up to me wrapped up in his arms, one when he starts talking about our future together, together.

“Three words, eight letters. Let’s get out of here,” I say, grabbing his hand, intertwining with mine, his smile widening.

—-

The limo driver’s voice, distant and polite, asked, “Your place, Ms.?”

“Mhm,” I hummed, breathless already, my response barely audible as Jungkook’s lips crashed into mine. The kiss was firm yet full of emotion, like he’d been starving for days…… He starved for my taste

My breath hitched as Jungkook pulled me into his lap, his large hands gripping my waist. all I could manage was a soft hum, barely audible, as I reached blindly for the button to raise the divider.

The divider hummed as it rises, It being the only thing keeping the driver from seeing us do the deed in the back of the limo, leaving only us in the together in the backseat. His tongue parted my lips, the kiss deepening as his hands roamed over my thighs, hiking my dress higher until it was bunched around my hips.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned against my lips, his voice low and strained. “I fucking missed you, my pretty girl”

I gasped as he tugged my panties aside, his fingers grazing the slick heat of my core. “You’re already so wet for me,” he murmured, his dark eyes locking onto mine as his fingers teased me, gathering the wetness and spreading it over my entrance. “You’ve been missing me too huh?”

“Jungkook,” I whimpered, unable to answer him as my hips bucked against his hand.

“That’s what I thought,” he said, his lips curving into a small, cocky smirk. His hands gripped my hips as he leaned back slightly, guiding me to straddle him completely. “Come here, baby. Let me feel you.”

I reached between us, freeing him from his pants. He was already hard, his cock thick and pulsing in my hand, and the deep groan that rumbled in his chest as I stroked him sent a wave of heat coursing through me.

“Don’t tease me,” he said, his voice low and dangerous, his hands tightening on my thighs. “You know I can’t wait.”

I positioned myself over him, the head of his cock pressing against my entrance, and slowly sank down, taking him inch by inch. The stretch was overwhelming, my body trembling as he filled me completely.

“Fuck,” he groaned, his head falling back against the seat as his hands gripped my waist. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. You feel so good.”

I braced my hands on his shoulders, rocking my hips slightly to adjust to the fullness. “Jungkook,” I gasped, my voice shaking. “You’re so deep.”

“That’s it,” he murmured, his hands moving to guide me as I began to move. “Good girl. Take me just like that. You’re doing so good.”

The praise sent a shiver down my spine, and I picked up the pace, bouncing on his lap, riding him with a desperation that matched his own. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small space, mingling with our moans and the occasional broken gasp of my name from his lips.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, his voice strained as his hands gripped my hips tightly, helping me move faster. “You’re gonna make me lose it. You’re so fucking perfect. So good to me.”

“Jungkook,” I whimpered, my nails digging into his shoulders as the pressure built low in my belly. “I-I’m close.”

“Me too,” he growled, his hips thrusting up to meet mine as his pace turned erratic. His dark eyes locked on mine, his voice soft but commanding. “Milk me, baby. Let me feel you. I’ll fill you up, yeah?”

“Yes,” I cried out, my voice desperate. “Fill me up, Jungkook. Please. I want it. I want all of you.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, his grip on me tightening as he slammed into me one last time, holding me down as his release hit. “That’s it, baby. Milk me. Fuck, you’re so good.”

The sensation of him filling me sent me over the edge, my body clenching around him as my orgasm crashed over me in waves. I cried out his name, my movements faltering as he held me close, his lips pressing against my neck as we both trembled through the aftershocks.

For a long moment, neither of us moved, our breaths mingling as we clung to each other. His hands stroked my back, his lips brushing softly against my shoulder as he whispered, “three words, eight letters. I mean it.”

“Three words, eight letters. I mean it more.” I murmured, my fingers tangling in his hair as I kissed him, my heart racing as the limo drove us to my house.

[snowysosturn]

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 21

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : THESE WARNINGS WILL GIVE SPOILERS!!!! MDNI, angst, tension, anxiety, mentions of car accident/reader in accident, aftermath of accident, trauma as a result of accident, memory loss, mentions of cheating

Finally get to tell you where the inspo for this fic came from now that it won’t give away any spoilers. (all my Irish girlies stand up 🫡) I’d fully forgotten about this song this song until July, and when I listened to it it sparked the little ideas for me, and that’s how I came up with the main plot <3 I've been going through a break up (which was nearly a 10 year relationship) during the time of writing this so ive poured my heart and souuuuul into this ( i also want to note no themes of the story relate to me maybe only mentally clocking out bc of a bare minimum bf, do not fucking cheat on anyone) . this fic has been my baby and im so thankful to anyone who has read so far <3 p.s if you ever go back and reread this you’ll notice the little pieces of lyrics here and there lol

The world came back to me in fragments - blurred lights, muffled sounds, and an overwhelming sense of disorientation. As I fluttered my eyes open, the harsh brightness of the room made me wince. My head pounded with a dull ache, and my body felt heavy, as if it wasn’t quite mine.

I slowly turned my head to the right, trying to take in my surroundings, and there he was. The man I loved, sitting by my bedside. His face was a mixture of relief and something else, fear, maybe? His eyes met mine, and I felt a flicker of familiarity in the chaos of my mind.

“Alex..” I whispered, my voice weak and strained.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Try not to move too much,” Alex said softly, his hand reaching up to gently stroke my face. His touch was warm, comforting, but something about the way he looked at me sent a ripple of unease through my chest.

“What happened?” I asked, my voice barely audible, as panic started to rise within me. My thoughts were jumbled, trying to piece together how I ended up here. The last thing I remembered was.. was.. I couldn’t even grasp it.

“You got into an accident” Alex explained, his voice steady, but I could see the worry etched into his features. “But you’re going to be okay. You just need to rest.”

An accident? My mind raced, and instinctively, I tried to move, only to be met with sharp pain that made me gasp. “What about my injuries? When can I skate again? I have qualifiers for the Olympics soon!” The words tumbled out of my mouth in a frantic rush, driven by a fear that I couldn’t quite place.

Alex’s face twisted in confusion, and he hesitated before answering. “Y/n.. you haven’t skated in years.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest, refusing to believe what he was saying. “What? No.. that’s not true. I.. I’ve been training. You know that.” My voice quivered with desperation.

Alex exchanged a worried glance with the nurse, then looked back at me, his expression pained. “Y/n, You stopped skating when I was a freshman.. I’m a junior now..”

His words echoed in my head, but they didn’t make any sense. UCLA? Sophomore year? It was as if he was speaking a different language. The last memory I had was waiting anxiously to see if he made the Bruins team, both of us so excited about the possibility of him making it big with football.

“No… no, that’s not right,” I muttered, shaking my head as if it would somehow clear the fog that clouded my thoughts. “Did you get onto the Bruins team?” I asked, clinging to the one thing that made sense to me.

“Y/n..” Alex’s voice was gentle, but it carried the weight of the truth I wasn’t ready to accept. 

The room spun around me, and I felt like I was being thrown into a different universe. Everything was wrong, nothing made sense. My heart raced, my breathing quickened, and I felt like I was drowning in confusion.

The female nurse stepped forward, her expression calm and professional. “Alex, could I speak with you outside for a moment?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Alex squeezed my hand one last time before letting go, his eyes lingering on mine with a look that made my chest tighten. He nodded and followed the nurse out of the room, leaving me alone with the student nurse who had been quietly observing from the side.

I turned my head slightly to look at him, trying to ground myself in something familiar, something stable. “Can someone tell me how long I’ll have to be in here for?” I asked, my voice trembling.

The boy hesitated, looking a bit uncertain. “I’m not too sure, Y/n. We’ll have to wait for one of the staff to give us results first” he said, trying to sound reassuring as he reached out and cupped my hand with his two.

His gesture was kind, but it only added to my confusion. Why was he holding my hand like that? Was he one of those compassionate doctors who went the extra mile for their patients? My mind struggled to make sense of his actions.

“Can’t you ask someone since you work here?” I asked, hoping for some clarity.

He blinked at me, clearly taken aback. “Work here?”

Before I could respond, the door creaked open, and the female nurse reentered the room, followed by Alex. There was a heaviness in the air, a sense of something unspoken. The nurse’s eyes met mine, and I could see the concern etched into her features.

“Ms. Y/l/n” she began, her voice gentle yet serious, “I need to explain something to you. After the accident, you sustained a significant concussion, which has led to a form of memory loss known as post-traumatic amnesia..”

“Amnesia?” I whispered, the word foreign and terrifying on my tongue. My gaze darted between her and Alex, hoping for someone to tell me this was all a mistake.

“Yes” she confirmed softly. “From what we can gather, you seem to have lost your recent memories from about two years ago onward. It’s possible that these memories will return with time, but for now, you’re not going to remember much.”

My world shattered with those words. Two years? How could two whole years of my life just be gone? My breath quickened, and the room began to feel smaller, more suffocating. I glanced at Alex, hoping to find some reassurance, but his expression only mirrored my panic.

“Two years?” I asked again, trying to wrap my mind around it. “What happened in those two years? I don’t remember any of it..” My voice trembled as I spoke, my heart sinking deeper into despair.

“That’s okay, Y/n” Alex said, stepping closer to me. “We’ll figure this out together, okay? I’ll help you remember.”

But something about the way he said it felt off. There was a tension in his voice that made me uneasy. I looked back at the boy who had been holding my hand, trying to place his face in the context of my life, but nothing came to mind.

“Who.. who are you?” I asked hesitantly, turning my attention to him. His expression faltered, a mixture of pain and something else flashing across his features.

“Y/n, it’s me.. Matt” he said, his voice tinged with a sorrow that cut through me like a knife.

I stared at him “I- I don't know who you are..” I didn’t recognize him. I didn’t remember anything about him. It was as if the two years that had vanished had taken him with them.

Before I could say anything else, the tension in the room exploded.

“Okay man I think it’s time you leave” Alex snapped, his eyes narrowing at Matt, his voice dripping with venom. “You have no right to be here, especially after what you did.”

“What I did?” Matt shot back, his voice rising with anger. “You’re the one who’s been sat here lying to her! You cheated on her, Alex! Don’t you dare act like you care about her now.”

The words hung in the air like a death sentence. My head spun, the room tilting as I tried to process what was happening. Cheated? Alex cheated on me?

“You’re full of shit, Matt” Alex retaliated stepping closer to him, their faces inches apart. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’ve been lying to her this entire time!” Matt shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. “You think I don’t know what you’ve done? You think she won’t find out? I won’t let you keep doing this to her.”

“Stop it!” I screamed, my voice cutting through their argument like a knife. Tears streamed down my face as the overwhelming stress consumed me. “Just stop! Both of you, get out! Get out!”

The room fell into a stunned silence. Both Matt and Alex turned to look at me, their expressions a mixture of shock and regret. But I couldn’t take it anymore. The confusion, this talk of betrayal, the loss of my memory - it was too much. I felt like I was drowning, and I needed them to leave before I lost myself completely.

“Please.. just leave.” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper, but firm in its request.

Matt’s face crumpled with pain, but he nodded slowly, backing away toward the door. Alex hesitated, his eyes pleading with me to understand, but I couldn’t even look at him.

One by one, they both left the room, the door closing behind them with a finality that left me feeling utterly alone. The silence that followed was deafening, the emptiness in my heart growing with every passing second.

I collapsed back onto the bed, my body trembling as I sobbed, the weight of everything too much to bear. Two years of my life, gone. The man I thought I loved and a stranger. The man who claimed to love me and a liar. The situation infront of me confused me as to which one was which. The memories I needed to make sense of it all, vanished.

I was lost in a world that no longer felt like my own.

Matt’s POV

I walked out of Y/n’s hospital room, the door clicking shut behind me like a hammer hitting the final nail into a coffin. My heart pounded in my chest, the adrenaline from my argument with Alex still coursing through my veins, but it was nothing compared to the fiery dread settling in my stomach. Every word I’d said to her, every desperate attempt to break through her confusion, seemed to hang in the air like a suffocating fog.

I made my way to the waiting area, my feet heavy, my mind numb. The bright, white lights overhead did nothing to chase away the darkness consuming my thoughts. We approached the row of  cold plastic chairs and Alex sat down, his elbows resting on his knees, head buried in his hands. I could feel the tension radiating off him, but I was too consumed by my own torment to care.

I dropped into a chair two seats away from him, the hard plastic pressing against my back, and let my head fall into my hands. My thoughts spiraled, chaotic and disjointed, but always coming back to one image - the moment she was hit.

The screech of tyres. The blinding headlights. The sickening thud as Y/n’s body crumpled under the car’s impact. I could still hear the scream that tore through me as I watched her fly through the air, time slowing to a crawl, helpless to stop it. It played over and over in my mind, each replay more gut wrenching than the last.

I should’ve been faster. I should’ve told her how I really felt. I should’ve… My fists clenched in my hair as I tried to choke down the guilt that threatened to swallow me whole.

What was I even doing on that balcony? Watching her run out of the house, pacing back and forth. I should’ve gone to her instead of just standing there like an idiot, too lost in my own confusion and pain to act. And then when I saw the car coming down the hill, everything in me froze.

"Y/n, get off the road!!" I had shouted, but my voice felt so small, so powerless against the force of what was about to happen. But it's too late.

In a split second, the beam of headlights blinds her. The screeching of tyres fills the air as the car tries to stop, but the impact is inevitable. I watch in horror as the car hits Y/n. The sound of the collision is deafening, and time seems to slow down.

She’s thrown backward, landing hard on the pavement. I can’t breathe, my legs feel like jelly as I race down the stairs, stumbling and pushing through the crowd.

When I finally reach her, my heart is pounding in my chest, my breath coming in short, panicked bursts. I kneel beside her, tears streaming down my face as I try to make sense of the horrific scene before me.

Y/n lays there on the ground, her face contorted in pain, her body not moving. The car speeds away into the night, leaving behind a scene of devastation. The people around us have began to scatter, some calling for an ambulance, others standing in shocked silence.

I gently cradle Y/n's head in my lap, my hands shaking uncontrollably. "Y/n, stay with me" I pleaded, my voice choking with emotion. "Please, stay with me."

She blinks slowly, her eyes meeting mine with a look of pain and resignation. I can see the life fading from her, and it feels like my world is collapsing around me.

The sound of sirens grows louder, and I can hear the distant honking of emergency vehicles approaching. I try to stay strong for her, to keep her conscious until help arrives, but my heart is breaking.

"I’m so sorry" I whisper, tears falling freely. "I’m so sorry for everything."

As the ambulance pulls up, paramedics rush to our side, taking over the situation with practiced efficiency. I’m left standing on the sidelines, my heart shattered as I watch them work to save her. I know that nothing will ever be the same again, and the weight of what just happened is almost too much to bear.

Now she was in that hospital bed, her memories shattered along with my heart. She didn’t even recognize me. My face, my voice - nothing. I was just a stranger to her now, a distant memory from a life she couldn’t even recall.

And then there was Alex. The guy she “loved”, the guy who’d betrayed her. He sat there just a few feet away, but it felt like a canyon stretched between us. I knew he was going to see this as an opportunity to weasel his way back into her life. She didn't remember any of it, him cheating, the way he treated her like an option. And now this was his free pass, to get her back like nothing had ever happened. I wanted to punch him, to scream at him for all the lies he’d fed her, for making this even more unbearable than it already was. But what good would that do? None of it would bring her memories back. None of it would undo the damage that had been done.

I glanced sideways at Alex. He was still in the same position, as if he were trapped in his own private hell. Good. He deserved it. But the satisfaction was fleeting, replaced quickly by a wave of exhaustion and despair.

All I could do was sit there, replaying the accident in my head, the look of panic in Y/n’s eyes as she realized what was happening, the way everything went silent just before impact. It was a moment I knew would haunt me for the rest of my life, one that no amount of apologies or explanations could ever make right.

All I wanted was for her to be okay, to wake up and remember me, remember us. But even that hope felt distant now, buried under the weight of the reality we were in.

I let out a shuddering breath, forcing myself to look away from Alex and focus on the dull hum of the hospital around us. Waiting, that’s all we could do now. Wait and hope for a miracle that seemed less likely with each passing second.

The door in front of us opened, and in came Nick, Madi, Chris & Emily. I had gone to the hospital with Y/n in the ambulance, and the paramedics contacted Alex as he was still down as Y/n’s emergency contact. The news of what happened tore through the party fast, but getting out of the place was hard to do so with the amount of emergency services on scene. 

“God Matt is she okay?” Nick asks frantically. 

“She’s awake Nick.. she’ll be okay.. But she doesn’t remember anything.” 

“Oh thank god she's okay, maybe it’s for the best that she doesn't remember the accident happening.” Nick says, trying to make me feel better.

“No, Nick. She doesn’t remember anything. She doesn’t remember me, she won't remember you, she doesn’t have any memory of the last 2 years at all.” I said, tears outlining my eyes.

Nick stood there with a horrified expression on his face. “You love her don’t you?” Nick whispers, so low that only us can hear.

“More than anything Nick, more than anything I know.”

 “Do you think I could go in and see her?” Nick questions.

“If you want, but she’s stressed out at the minute.. Just try your best not to make anything worse.” I say, as Nick nods at me, getting up to gently knock on the door to Y/n’s room.

I take my eyes off Nick and lock eyes with Emily.

“Can we go outside for a minute for some air?” I asked her, knowing I'm about to have a conversation that I should’ve handled differently nights ago.

a/n: sorry.. again..

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[majeoeje]

Beating heart (part 2)

Laios x reader

The only right answer was you

Part 1

Is this truly the right decision? You dwelled. The scent of the sea lingered in the air, the sounds of footsteps and people around you was enough to drown you.

You were leaving everything with little money in your pockets. Your stolen dowry surely wouldn’t last that long, you thought. You hoped your parents would ever find it in their hearts to forgive you for what you’re doing. But mostly… you hoped your betrothed would not harbor revenge for you.

Imagining their kind faces turning malicious made you falter. Suddenly the eight hours of horse ride that you just endured felt more than reckless. Maybe you should go back after all.. maybe if you turned back now, they’d still accept you and take you in with open arms.

As you took a step back you were bumped into someone.

You groaned before giving them a short apology not really looking at them in the eye.

“I knew it was them!” You frozed, A familiar male voice filled your ears. Upon hearing that it was as if you were transported back to your home. Back when you weren’t promised to someone you barely know, back when beginning a family wasn’t what everyone expected of you, back when you could have dreams, back to that simple village, back home.

And then you turned around to see that it was some weird unkept guy you didn’t know

You thought maybe you had mistaken someone else for your long time best friend, but then another voice appeared

“Hey, you’re right!!” Said the female voice

You audibly gasped seeing the woman, she was still the same as ever! maybe you weren’t wrong after all. And upon closer inspection, there was no denying it.

“Laios! Falin!!” You gleamed, before you shared a meaningful hug with both the Touden siblings

You almost didn’t recognize Laios with his unkept appearance, his hair growing past his eyes while you could tell he hasn’t been eating enough let alone shower or shave in that matter. You were so glad that Falin didn’t succumb to such things, keeping her appearance squeeky clean.

“It’s been too long” you let go not before you gave them a final squeeze

"We're so happy to see you.. agh- heyy..." Falin protested, you couldn't contain yourself from messing with her short hair upon seeing her signature closed eyed red cheeks smile.

"Are you planning to sail to the island too?" Laios said. Despite his drastic change you noticed that the golden hue of his eyes had never changed. It brought you a sense of relieve somehow. Despite everything, he will always be Laios.

“Traveling together would be nice”

The tone of his voice was rather hopeful. As if he wanted you to come alongside them. And by his words alone you could change your mind.

You thought about how nice it would be to travel together. Maybe you could become adventurers? As hard labour as dungeon exploring is.. you were hoping you could have your chance in it. Maybe now you could have your own room and live however you like, And maybe you could finally see the monsters that Laios was always so excited to talk about.

Aghhhh- you were stupid. You cursed yourself for being so easily swayed by him. The fact that Laios of all people didn't even need to ask you back then horrifies you. How are you that excited to see someone?

This realization came late to say the least. Years of adventuring had gone by and now you’re here. In this very moment. Grumbling alone to yourself about your past recklessness, as your other party members just lets you relish in your own madness (they already know you had lost it so why bother)

It was during your intense thought process that you didn’t notice Laios’ hand inching closer to yours only to falter away.

He wanted to tell you that dinner was almost ready but why was it so difficult??

Hesitant he rarely was, especially with you. But something had changed since last night, it was as if the beat of your heart had ingrained itself in the back of his mind, with each closing distance with you only adding to the fire that was the tune of your heart. It slowly eats him alive, drowning him, suffocating and burning him away with its sounds.

Though it wasn’t until now as he mindlessly observed you that he noticed that the fast and loud beat that was replaying over and over wasn’t yours at all in this moment.

He brought his hand to the left of his chest finding it hard to believe that his heart would beat this loudly for you. Has he always felt this way?

“Oh- Laios!… i didn’t see you there buddy” you were surprised to see Laios seating next to you. He couldn’t be there the whole time could he?? (He was)

You waited for his reaction, but he could only sit there and stare at you like he just had a realization too.

“I think-“

“Dinner’s ready!” Said senshi unknowingly interrupting Laios, presenting another one of his delicious cooked meals. The smell alone could make you drool. It doesn’t matter if it’s a monster as long as it’s good right? You choose not to dwell on the deeper meaning, ignorance is bliss. Some would say.

“What is it that you’re going to say?” You say attention now shifting back to him.

Laios looked like he wanted to say something but he shook his head and retaliated.

“Let’s eat, we can’t have other’s waiting” he stood up before going ahead to where the others are. He didn’t really know what he wanted to say. If Senshi hadn’t interrupted him, he knows that his sentence would just falls short.

Around the campfire everyone ate soundly, maybe it was because the lack of monster trivia on Laios’ part. You can’t help but miss it

It was during this moment that he wonders what is it that he wanted to say? What is it that he discovered? He knew that it was realization and he knew it was about you. But that was about it.

Marcille felt like the tension was rather dry, so she thought she’d finally ask you a question that has been itching itself in her brain

“Was it true that you were betrothed?” She asked, Laios practically choked on his food, it’s not like he didn’t know this, but he never thought to pay any mind to your past betrothal.

“Well, it was a long time ago..”

you wave your hand around, it’s true that it wasn’t a big deal anymore in your life but it does bring a sense of nostalgia in your mind at the times before you ran away from the village

“What were they like?” Asked Marcille, you could by the shine in her eyes that she loved romance books

You hummed before putting your empty plate down

“They were sweet, lovely,caring,hard working and very very stubborn” you laughed. “I could go on and on about how they were but we won’t have enough time”

The way in which you describe your betrothed was as if you were fond of them. It made Laios a little weary somehow. Why was that? It’s not like he hasn’t met them… in fact they were a good friend of yours, despite not getting along that much with him.

“You know by how you described them it would seem that you loved them” chilchuck asked, a little suspicious

Laios awaited your answer practically on the edge of his seat. Well it was pretty clear that you didn’t considering you ran away and what not, Laios said to himself

“I did” the sound of your confirmation was accompanied with the sound of Laios’ wooden bowl falling to the dungeon floor. “How could i not?”

When everyone looked at him he tried his best to seem normal, laughing nervously and saying how his bowl just slipped past his hand suddenly before gingerly picking it up.

“Then why did you leave??” Marcille was basically starry eyed, hearing you talk about your love life was what she had been waiting for.

While Laios was lost in thought. Would you want to come back to your betrothed? If you did loved them then it wouldn’t be outrageous or even wrong to get married to them once all of this is over.. but you would still go one a some adventures with him and fin before you di right?

it’s just that by then Laios had realized that he didn’t want you to marry anyone. He didn’t want his adventures with you and Falin to be over just yet. Such thoughts of you to be wed with other people lingered on his mind and soured his appetite.

“It’s because I didn’t want that life yet you know? I just didn’t want to settle down when i haven’t at least tried to reach my dream”

Your answer was short, Marcille begged you for details but suddenly you drifted the conversation to Chilchuck’s children. Then suddenly her attention drifted away. You chuckled at her antics, you didn’t thought it as nosy really,it was quite endearing to you.

“Do you.. still love them?..” Laios suddenly asked, a little quiet, but not quiet enough for you not to hear, the tint of insecurity was more than evident in his voice yet you couldn’t be more than blind to it.

After a long while you finally thought about them once again. Those days you spent everyday was more than lovely. At the time, you enjoyed their company more than anyone… it would be a lie if you were to claim that you did not love them. But even though you were glad that now you were able to look back at the fond memories you had and appreciate them, you never once wish you would go back.

“No.. at least not anymore” you reminiced, bittersweet it was.

So many questions filled Laios’ head. What if that person were to look for you? Would you come back to them? How long were you in love? He wanted to ask one by one yet only one was able to spill out of him

“Would you ever want to settle down?” Asked Laios.

Your cheeks grew warm. It was a if… he was asking for you to settle down with him.

You mentally slapped yourself for such thoughts. For fuck’s sake that was your best friend you were thinking about! You knew him ever since you were all but 2.

You looked back a few summers back. Back when you were with someone who once used to be your soon to be spouse. Back when you planned a whole future with them knowing that you didn’t actually wanted those things before ultimately throwing everything all away. You remember all the pain, anguish and guilt you felt as you ran away. You never wanted to feel like that ever again.

But.. you thought that if it were with Laios.. it would be different. It somehow just sat right to you.

“I would like that”

You unconsciously smile, you were ashamed to say that you were excited about such ideas, like he meant what he said anyways. You then realize the gentle hold of his hand on yours, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your knuckles before carefully tracing down to one particular finger, perhaps someday where a wedding ring would be.

“I would also like that”

[simpxxstan]

Hi! Been reading your fics svt as you best friend’s brother and im hooked, my favorite would be vernon’s!!! Idk if you still accept request but if you do, can i request Joshua + as your brother’s bestfriend?

P.S. i really like your writing style! 🥰

this is a part of my 550 followers event, but requests are now CLOSED.

thank you for enjoying my work <3 and thanks for the request, it was wonderful to work on it!! altho i wrote like 4 versions because i so unsatisfied but finally settled on this, really hoping that you'll like it1 and again, i'm so sorry for being late, i hope you still enjoy this :)

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who you certainly don't approve of at all

"i don't like this new friend you have." you tell your brother straight up when joshua leaves your house after dinner. it's the first time he's visited your house since your brother and he became inseparable. you've heard a lot about him and to be fair, you'd expected him to be .... not like what you realise he is.

it's nothing tangible, though. joshua is all politeness and manners, but there's an air about him which constantly reminds you that he belongs to old money, an air of superiority that seems to be ingrained in his manner of walking and talking.

and the worst bit is that everyone is so taken with him. ever since he's joined your high school, it's become amply clear that everyone loves joshua hong. some because of his wealth, others because of his looks.

"sis, he didn't even bother you. how the hell do you not like him?" your brother's low grumble annoys you, as if he has a right to ask you this although he freely drops his opinions about all your new college friends. "i don't know, really. but the vibes are... vibes are bad."

vernon rolls his eyes. "you're just mad because he's not into you, isn't it?" the words don't leave his mouth before he gets a very subtle kick in his shin that dumps him on the floor.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who rarely ever gets curious about people, but somehow he just cannot understand you

he's seen enough people already and now he can flag each person by their type. but you don't seem to fit into any of the boxes he can so easily segregate humans into. for one, you're very lowkey, just like vernon. but unlike your brother, you're not laidback nor are you cool, at all, really. you're very tight-wound, always on your guard, your wide eyes taking in everything around you.

"okay you're scaring me now," joshua spins around and meets your gaze, squinting to try and understand what thoughts lurk beneath those judgy little eyes.

"what have i done?" "you can't be judgmental during a creative process!" "i have literally not spoken a word and yet you think i'm judging you." "that's cause you are," joshua stands up and walks to you, hands on his hips, desperately trying to keep a cool face as he tries to read your mind. you cock your head to one side, meeting his stare, "oh yeah? how's that so?" "your eyes are boring holes into my back, i can feel them, you know." you stand up, your height nowhere close to joshua's but the strength of your gaze strong enough to pin his attention, "that's just the voice in your head, nuthead. you know your song is trash and you're dumping it on me now."

"hey!" vernon protests, and joshua smirks, "see i told you she was judging us! well, you can keep your judgement to yourself, miss chwe-" "yeah, i was gonna-" "and maybe leave the room while the artists are busy creating art your silly brain cannot understand."

you gasp, "you can't kick me out of my own room, you nobody!" "but he can," he says, pointing to vernon, "he's your brother." "not really, i'm gonna tell mom-" joshua loves seeing you get riled up, loves to see at least some emotion on your face. "okay, my whiney lil girl, go tell mommy," he bends down to your level and winks, his breath catching at the very audible sound of your gasp.

and it works, somehow. did he just intimidate you? or irritate you? whatever he's done, now you do leave the room, but not before flipping off him and vernon. that hurts his ego a little bit, but at least he won't have to feel your judgy eyes stare at his back while he's composing the masterpiece he and vernon are going to perform at the next party. that's a win in his books.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua whose somehow everywhere you go, almost like a shadow

of course, some of it is thanks to your brother. and the rest of it is because he has a lot of common classes with you. and although he's a new student, he's quickly become the apple of the eye of many teachers too.

"if you're really so good at creative literature, why can't you write your lyrics yourself!" you huff at him when he shoves the notebook towards you across the table once again. "that's because i've got writer's block, you idiot. why can't you just be nice to me for once, i'm just asking for some help!"

joshua's looking at you with the most helpless puppy eyes he can manage, but you're not falling for his tricks. "you're getting me distracted with this, i know what you're doing." your hand stretches across the table, pushing the notebook back to him. "distracting you? it's one damn verse-" "joshua, you're trying to distract me from working on the essay due this week, aren't you?"

joshua's eyes bulge. "what? woman, now you're overdoing this. i don't even know why you have these kinds of illusions about me. i haven't done anything to you." "but i know your type of guy," you eye him seriously, and he cocks an eyebrow. "whatever it is, you've got me wrong, y/n." for a second, you're almost convinced, but then you look at the rolex resting casually on his wrist.

"no i'm not, joshua. there are hundreds of other people, eager to write your song lyrics, but no, you come to me. why? you're an attention whore, you only pester me because i push you away. the day that i give in, you'll be gone, and -"

joshua leans in until he's almost breathing the same air as yours. "and what, y/n?" you pause for a second to frame your words correctly, but joshua takes up the chance, "then you'll realize that you've got me all wrong, because i never left you at all?"

there's some rawness in his voice, a rugged angle that's new in his usually sugary sweet voice, and it leaves you disoriented for a long minute, your thoughts scattered, your heart racing and your intuition anxious. have you really got him all wrong? but he's already gone by then, gone before you've predicted, and you have no second chance to call him back to tell him that you'd already thought of lines for the verse last night when you'd heard your brother sing the rest of the song.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's looking for you in the crowd when he performs at the party tonight, but it's a search in vain

he wants to ask vernon if he knows where you are, but he doesn't want to sound desperate. doesn't want to sound like an attention whore, doesn't want you the pleasure to think that maybe you're right. because no. you're not. he's not thirsting for your attention. he's not yearning for one soft look from your eyes because he can never understand what's going on behind them. he's not going insane every night wondering what you really think of him. he's not longing to see your fake guard fold in two so that he can tell you that he-

Hope you listen to this song 'cause I, I, I... 'Cause I'm doing right just fine. I'm doing alright, doing alright. he sings, but he really hopes no one sees it on his face that he's not, in fact, doing alright. no one has affected him to this extent, to the extent that it's plaguing his thoughts all day and all night whether they hate him or not. and the fact that even this is occurring is concerning enough for joshua to feel his stomach twist in anger and anxiety, although he can see the crowd happily sway to their song.

and then vernon sings, I can't get you out of my head, yeah, Gotta get you out of my head, yeah. How can you be so fine when ... and joshua remembers how he wrote this verse thinking about your icy eyes when you stare at him when he's standing in front of the class, giving a presentation that the teacher's asked him to deliver, staring at him like he's not good enough.

I'm doing great myself, Hope you know I am... and how joshua wrote these lives in a feverish whisper in the middle of the night when your words from last afternoon had come rushing to his mind and he'd lost all sleep. because he is doing great, isn't he? he is. he doesn't need your attention. he doesn't need your approval. he doesn't even need your affirmation.

except the voice in his head knows he does. he knows it because it's at this moment that he sees you in the crowd, standing far away from the stage so he hopes you don't know he's staring right at you, but he can feel the burn of your gaze even through the blinding lights.

and the song ends with a final strum of his guitar, vernon singing, I'm super fine, I don't need you anymore... and joshua can't help but whisper out, into his microphone

i need you

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's looking too good for even you to resist tonight, with the signature black jacket and a single vein popping out on his neck

you don't even know why you came tonight. something something about your mother asking you to check on vernon and make sure he's not getting high. something something about this being the last weekend before you get into study mode for finals. something something about you being curious about what joshua finally wrote in that verse.

and while you've seen your brother perform quite a few times, seeing joshua on stage gives you a different kind of goosebumps. the kind of goosebumps that leave you wondering what is wrong with you that you're so mean to him on an every day basis when he's so beautiful and so talented.

i'll give him a chance, you think, when you walk towards backstage. you confidently enter the tiny room that's labelled as backstage, but you find your brother making out desperately with someone in a corner so you jump out of the room immediately...

"looking for someone?" and bump into the person you've actually been looking for. when you turn around, his eyes leave you breathless, and you think that he is right. you have got him all wrong.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who can finally read your eyes because he's taken you by surprise and you can't mask your feelings so quickly

and now he's got you in his arms, and he knows that vernon is up to something inside the room, so he slowly slides you away from the room and against the wall next to it. "did you watch me?" not us. me. because joshua wants to know desperately what you think about him.

"i did." "and? what did you think?" your pretty eyes flitter about, trying to avoid his gaze avidly, but his hand slips under your chin so that you do look at him. "don't make me lose my mind, y/n. tell me, please."

so you finally look at him. really look at him. no shields, no guards, no distances. "i thought you were damn good, joshua hong. that's what i thought."

joshua's hand slips from under your chin and falls to his side. "and? what did you think of the song?" there's a hint of a smile in your eyes, and he can see them crinkle into a smile before your mouth can. "i thought it was very emotional. i didn't think you to be capable of such raw emotion. was it for someone?"

and he knows this is the moment. he knows it is because all the voices in his head are ringing like sirens with only one answer. "yes, you."

and you gasp and joshua leans in to press a kiss to your mouth. it's a soft kiss, barely a peck, a request for permission, a test to check the tides. so when you lean into him, chasing his lips, he loses all control.

"y/n chwe, you're driving me insane," he mutters, as he slowly tastes all of your lips, feeling the plush and the warmth of the one thing he's craved for months now. "pl- please, don't fight this feeling," he knows he's begging, but he doesn't care. all he wants is your softness against his hands and your warmth spreading to his body and your lips smashing again and again against his own lips.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who's eyes bulge out of their sockets, his lipstick smudged against the corner of his mouth, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as you push him away

there's an emergency siren ringing in your head right now, and all you want to do is fall back into his arms, but you can't. you simply cannot. because that would mean you've fallen for his games, become prey to his tactics and he'd win again.

you have to fight the feeling because you know tomorrow morning he'll be gone, and never come back, because he's got you under his grasp now. so you do the first thing the rush of adrenaline tells you to do- run.

you run all the way home, locking yourself into your room, biting down on the rough edges of your t-shirt to stop yourself from screaming because your mind is still reeling from the taste of the forbidden fruit. you know deep down, that you have lost to joshua. you've given yourself up to him, let your guard down, and if you see him right now, you may just fold.

thinking about brother's best friend!joshua who doesn't give up looking for you, and finally finds you in the corner of the library the next afternoon, skipping lunch in favour of revising biology

thankfully, you're too engrossed in your notes to realise when he's taken the seat next to you, it's only after he softly calls out your name that you jerk up with surprise, "oh it's you."

and then a second later, when joshua's hand is halfway across the gap between you two, you whisper out louder, "oh it's you." he pauses. "yeah, y/n, it is me. what's wrong?"

you don't respond immediately. you stare at his outstretched hand, at the confusion etched on his features and the way your knees are touching under the desk. "you came looking for me?" joshua doesn't understand why you look so dazed, but he replies softly, leaning in, "of course. why wouldn't i?"

and then you lean into him and kiss him. wow that was simple, joshua's mind still confused at what just happened, but he doesn't miss the opportunity. his hand finds your arm, and he pulls you closer to kiss you, to taste you in every way he couldn't last evening. "i want you, y/n. why do you run away from me?"

and joshua doesn't know why, but you laugh. it's the sound of rain falling on leaves, the sound of tinkling beads, the sound of piano keys played on a midsummer night. "i promise i won't anymore, joshua. because i admit, i want you too." and you kiss him again, and somehow, his curiosity becomes the last thing on his mind. not when you're busy rearranging his brain chemicals to make sure he's addicted to your scent, your taste and your touch and he can never live without you now.

[thriftedtchotchkes]

mama's boy

pairing: derek danforth x gn!reader

summary: derek always answers when his mom calls, no matter what or who he's doing

warnings: 18+ MDNI, fwb!reader, smut, exhibitionism, sneaky sex during a phone call, unprotected/unspecified penetration, creampie, spanking, dirty talk, mommy issues

words: 1.5k

a/n: this is my first gn!reader smut so please please lmk if any descriptions don't work <3

Derek's phone barely rings twice before he picks up.

You're not sure why he answered at all when he's already busy fucking you, but he doesn't stop, even after he murmurs a greeting into the mic and tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder. He just continues to bounce you on his lap while he talks to whoever's on the line, managing to keep his voice steady save for a few hitched breaths.

"I was just thinking about you," he says casually as if his fingers aren't digging into your ass right now, dragging you up and down his cock, your walls gripping him like a vice.

You're already a mess after an hour of edging and teasing, and you're surprised the mic hasn't picked up the lewd sound of his skin slapping against yours. To your ears, it's obvious what's happening on Derek's side of the call, but the lack of response from the other end leads you to believe they still haven't caught on.

He speaks again, a little breathier this time. "I miss you. I was hoping to maybe see you this weekend."

His eyes don't leave yours as he purrs sweetly into the phone, attention divided between holding up his end of the conversation and continuing to withhold the orgasm you rightfully deserve. There's an unspoken warning in his gaze telling you to stay quiet, but the harder he fucks you, the more difficult it gets.

His hand slides up to tweak a nipple, and you realize he's testing you. Playing with you, daring you to make a sound. Part of you wants to, especially if he's going to say shit like that to someone else while he's buried balls deep.

You clench around him in retaliation, but aside from his fingers tensing on your hip, he seems totally unaffected. The asshole actually has the audacity to look amused like he's enjoying his little game.

"I'll behave," he tells the mysterious caller with surprising ease. But then, he cups your cheek and drags his thumb along your bottom lip, and you know his next words aren't meant for them. He's speaking directly to you. "I promise. I'll be good, just for you."

He slips his thumb into your mouth, and you have to resist the urge to bite him. He's a goddamn liar. If he's not going to behave, then why should you? Giving into the impulse, you nip at his finger, taking him by surprise. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, and finally, it's audible enough for them to question it.

He tries to brush off their suspicion, but it's obvious he's busy. He sounds less believable with every word, and more like he's doing something he really shouldn't be on a business call.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It's nothing, just some of the guys fucking around," he bites out. But then, he unexpectedly mutes the call. If the searing look on his face is any indication, you're in trouble now.

"C'mon baby, I know you can do better than that—unless you want me to take this call somewhere else and let you take care of yourself."

You shake your head frantically, hating how quickly you fold at his dominance, even though he's still acting like an arrogant prick.

"You gonna be good for me?"

You nod. If you hadn't already experienced how hard he can make you cum, you'd probably put up more of a fight. But you have—and you know it's more than worth your silence.

Satisfied, he cradles the back of your head and pulls you down for a bruising kiss before unmuting the call.

"Yo, shut the fuck up," he says a little louder like he's actually telling off his boys instead of you. Then, his expression turns downright sinister. "My mom's on the phone. Have some fucking respect."

You gasp before you can stop yourself. There's no way in hell the fucking President of the United States is listening to you fuck her son—and yet, it suddenly makes perfect sense why he picked up the phone in the first place. Derek and his mommy issues.

He slaps your ass in response, another warning, but his subtle smirk betrays him. Sick fuck. He likes this. He thinks he's so smooth, so above consequences. It's why he didn't bother to lock the door when he dragged you into his late father's office and pulled you onto his lap, uncaring of who might walk in and see him fucking you dumb.

And he's right. Consequences don't exist for someone like Derek Danforth. Not even from mommy, who would never let anything happen to her handsome baby boy. Even if she did notice, she'd probably just scoff and tell him not to get caught by anyone that matters.

That's power. God, you wish that didn't turn you on so much.

He plants his feet firmly on the ground and forces your upper half to the side so he can see around you, watching how tightly you grip him as he plunges in and out of you. His pace is brutal now, and you can feel that telltale heat building low in your stomach.

Through all of it, he still somehow manages to ping-pong back and forth between replying to his mom and urging you to cum for him. His voice is strained, and even though you can't see his face anymore, you can tell how flushed he must be, his eyes likely rolled back at how slick and warm you feel around him.

"C'mon, give it to me. So fucking tight, I know you're close," he mutters just loud enough for you to hear before he switches back to being her doting son.

"Don't worry about the donors, I'll handle it. Just—," you accidentally cut him off with an involuntary clench, and he bites back a groan, "—the party's for you, just enjoy yourself. Y-you...you've earned it."

You're about to earn it, too, though you probably don't deserve it. Not when you're whimpering pathetically into the aged leather of his father's armchair, overwhelmed by how much his thick cock stretches you out.

By now, Derek's either too far gone to hear it or doesn't care enough to scold you. His thighs tremble violently beneath you, and his thrusts are getting sloppy and uncoordinated like he's just as close as you are.

"Fuuuuck," he lets out a pained growl when he finally hones in on your sweet spot. He doesn't hold back, abusing it until you're spasming dangerously around him and on the verge of tears.

There's no way she can't hear him now, but that doesn't stop him from babbling incoherently as his pleasure peaks. "Oh my fucking god, baby, you're gonna make me—fuck, I'm...m'gonna—"

But you tumble over the edge first, cumming so hard, your vision whites out.

"I—shit, something just came up. I-I gotta go," he croaks hurriedly into the mic, your convulsing walls and muffled moans seconds away from making him blow his load. "Some emergency, I don't know. I just—sorry, I really gotta go," he grits through his teeth, desperately trying to hold on, to be respectful and let his mom finish talking, but it's way too late. "Yeah, love you, too—"

He abruptly sits up and wraps his arms around you, his phone toppling to the floor as he holds you in place and roughly empties his balls into you. Warm spurts coat your walls and dribble onto his thighs as he ruts into you, loud enough to rival the squeaking chair being pushed to its limit below you.

Yet, nothing in that room is louder than Derek. He hauls you up and crashes his lips into yours, whining pathetically into your mouth as he rides out both of your highs. His hands are everywhere—grabbing your ass and waist, wrapped loosely around your throat—while you milk every last drop from his body.

When the aftershocks subside and sensitivity sets in, he finally pulls away but doesn't pull out. Whether it's to avoid staining the furniture or keep you plugged up so his release doesn't leak out, you're not totally sure. But his body language, satisfied and boneless and so pleased with himself, leads you to believe it's the latter.

Of course, Derek doesn't give a shit about the furniture. He probably just likes the idea of you walking around the rest of the day with his cum soaking your underwear.

"See what happens when you do what I tell you?" he smirks, lazily stroking your hip with his thumb.

You roll your eyes. "Oh, fuck you. I hope your mom's party is awkward as fuck now that she knows the weird, kinky shit you're into."

"I wouldn't wish that on yourself, baby. You'll be there, too."

"Excuse me?" you blurt out incredulously.

He just laughs, keeping his arm tucked around you while he bends down to snatch his phone off the floor. The screen lights up with a new text message—from Mom.

"Try not to be so loud at the fundraiser. Press will be there, and the last thing I need is another reporter to pay off."

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

[macabr3-barbi3]

No Mercy

week 4!!! let's fucking go!!!

COME LOOK AT OUR MASTERLIST BY @synamartia IT'S GORGEOUS

SHOUT OUT TO ALL OF MY WIVES @hazelfoureyes @sugoi-writes @minkdelovely @fraugwinska (WHO MADE ALL OF MY BANNERS AND I LOVE HER AND HER LOVELY BRAIN SO MUCH)

Summary: Adam gets enough of you mouthing off during training and picks a fight. Tags: hate sex, oral sex (male receiving), fighting

You knew Adam was getting a little sick of you- but what was the point in being part of his special inner circle of angels if you couldn’t have a little fun with it?

You had mouthed off to him again, and in all honestly you felt that it was a fair question; what did he even do during the exterminations while everyone else was causing mayhem? From what you heard from the others when you joined the ranks, he usually just flitted around watching the carnage or hovered near the portal back to Heaven without contributing anything himself. So after weeks of asking during training, despite the lieutenant telling you in no uncertain terms to drop it, you finally phrased it a little differently.

“What, are you too weak to actually participate?”

You knew he wasn’t. You could see the muscles that flexed beneath his robes while he watched the girls training, the unparalleled power in his wings when he brought them out. Sometimes it just felt good to stir a reaction out of him, to have a strong emotion aimed your way from a powerful being. And yeah, maybe you were hoping a little bit that the constant questioning would eventually prompt him to give you and the rest of the girls a show- you weren’t the only one that thought your commander was sexy as sin, and a casual show of strength would send everyone through the roof.

Perhaps this was a step too far though.

Lute audibly gasped, as did the rest of your squadron. “Recruit, that is unacceptable,” she hissed, and took a step forward to reprimand you when a large hand on her shoulder stopped her in her place.

“Relax, Danger Tits. I’ll handle it. All of you- clear out.” His mask is calm, aloof, but you can see the twitch of the graphics on his eyes that betray his true emotions. He was pissed.

With no one else daring to question him, everyone including Lute was gone in seconds, leaving only you and Adam on the mats of the training room. He slowly strips his robes off, a simple white tanktop and sweatpants underneath his holy getup. You might have drooled a little at the sight of his bare skin, tendons tensing beneath the surface as he drops the clothing and stretches; he was built like a fucking bear, all compact muscle and wiry hair along his chest and arms, the hint of a stubbly shadow that peeked out beneath the edges of his mask.

You’re distracted from your observation of him when he tosses a spear your way- not one of the official, angelic spears, but the shitty ones used for training. His own hands were empty. “You think I’m weak? Alright, bitch, you fucking asked for it. Come at me.”

You stutter backwards a step, having expected some yelling; not a challenge. “What?”

“You fucking heard me. Swing the goddamn spear.”

Normally you would balk at such a demand- Lute would have your ass if she knew you had swung on Adam even in a joking manner. But Adam looked like he meant business, and he was technically a higher ranking commanding officer than Lute, so…

You swing the spear at him the way you had been taught to take down larger demons- aim for extremities to disarm first, and then go for a killing blow. He dodges with a simple turn of his heel, using his fingers in a ‘come on’ motion and urging you to swing again. But as soon as the spear is within Adam’s reach he has a hold of it, tugging hard from the tip- the force of the action drags you closer to him so he can spew bullshit at you. “You think I’m fucking weak?” He presses a finger to your shoulder and pushes, sending you tumbling back and tripping over yourself to the floor. His grip on the spear tightens with a sickening crunch before he lets it clatter to the ground looking like kindling. “Me? I’m the whole reason you’re here, bitch, and you think you have any business to fucking question me?” He squares his feet, arms lifted in front of him like a shield. “Come on! You’re tough enough to talk all this shit but you won’t actually fight? I’ll kick you off the squad right fucking now.”

You get up and charge him, managing to get one blow between his arms against his chest before he’s laughing and shoving you back again to land hard on your ass. Again, and this time you don’t even get a hit in before he pushes back and you fall. Again. Again. He shows you no mercy every time he knocks you to your ass, laughing like it’s a game and hardly even using his strength to push you around. You climb to your feet this time, and the first true whisper of anger curls around your head like smoke to combat the faint heat you feel at being the sole focus of his attention with no one else around to witness it. He hadn’t even broken a sweat, while your breath was coming hard, sweat dripping down your face from the exertion. You feel your face set into a snarl as you rush him this time, swinging a leg instead of your fist and aiming below the belt.

Bad sportsmanship maybe, but so was laughing in your face every time you failed to strike him.

It doesn’t matter- he catches your leg behind the knee like he had caught the spear, pulls you closer in a similar fashion, and wraps a hand around your throat. His wings open up behind him, and in a move so quick you’re not entirely sure how it happened, he’s managed to flip the pair of you into the air and slam you hard into the ground.

The air is knocked out of you, something not helped by the hand that rests on your airways, and the motion has dislodged Adam’s mask- he shakes his head to fling it off, and you’re greeted with his actual face, scruffy and rugged and too handsome for how close your bodies are- and you were right about how easy this was for him, not the slightest hint of moisture along his hairline. Adrenaline courses in your veins, demanding movement and action that you can’t attempt with Adam’s weight settled on top of you, still holding the leg he had caught at an uncomfortable angle hear his hip. It mixes dangerously with the arousal you’ve felt this entire time, making you want to do something stupid and telling like rubbing yourself against one of his thick thighs while he squeezed softly at your neck.

“Low blow to go for my dick,” he admonishes as he lets go of your leg and it slams back to the ground. “All that trash you talk and look how fucking easy it was to get you pinned under me. Still think I’m fucking weak?” His fingers flutter around your throat as he repositions, the action sending a blush racing to your face and spreading to your collarbone. He doesn’t miss it, a cruel smirk taking over his handsome features while he looks down at you. “So that’s the deal, huh? You just wanted a fucking excuse for me to manhandle you a little bit? You kinky bitch.”

“Fuck you,” you snap at him, trying to turn your blushing face away, and he releases a single finger from the grip around your neck to dig into your cheek and turn you back to face him. The move is such a casual show of his strength that it makes you swallow hard, unable to clench your thighs together with him between them.

“You wish,” he laughs, his eyes bright and mischievous, and he uses his free hand to grab the length of his cock through his sweatpants, a dark patch where the tip rested against the fabric. “Shit, knowing you’re getting off on this is hot as fuck- but being a mouthy brat doesn’t get you fucking rewarded, so here’s what we’re gonna do.” He finally releases your throat, allowing you to suck in a lung full of air while he stands before he offers a hand to you. He only helps you up from the mat as far as your knees before he pulls away, crossing his arms over his burly chest. “You’re either gonna leave- and stop fucking questioning me during training, or I really will kick you off the team- or you’re gonna put that fucking mouth of yours to good use for once."

Like there was any question about that. 

You settle more comfortably onto your knees and wait, but he doesn’t do anything more than pulling his waistband down below his cock and stroking it in front of you. And fuck, it was going to be a generous mouthful, the girth of him impressive even in Adam’s huge hands, if he ever got around to doing anything about it. “Are you going to do something with that,” you snark, and his eyes narrow. “Or do you have to wait for the women in your life to do everything for you-”

He takes the opportunity your open mouth presents him and thrusts his hips forward, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, triggering the muscles there to clench hard before he retreats until just the tip is left in your mouth. “I was hoping you’d take some fucking initiative,” he snaps, “but I guess just like with the fighting you’re all bark and no bite. If you want me to just use you like a fucking slut then that’s what I’ll do.”

He applies the slightest bit of pressure to the hinge of your jaw to get you to open up wider, and this time his entry is slow and controlled as he fills your mouth with the heavy weight of his cock, the taste of him salty and dark across your tongue. You moan around him, the sound unable to escape with how fully he takes up the space between your lips, and the vibrations make his hips jerk.

You reach a hand up to wrap around the substantial length that you don’t have in the wet cavern of your mouth yet, and he reprimands you with a harsh tug on your hair. When you glare up at him, he smirks; his golden eyes are a little glazed over, a flushed tint to his cheeks. “No fucking hands,” he tells you. “You got yourself into this with just your mouth, that’s how you’re gonna get out of it, too.” He keeps his grip on your locks to guide your head, pulling you further down onto his cock with a guttural groan tearing from his throat. Your own throat tenses at the intrusion, a blockage of your air from the inside rather than the out, and your eyes water at the strain of trying to breathe through your nose before he pulls out enough that you can breathe again.

It’s so fucking good. You don’t think he would react kindly to you slipping a hand under your training shorts so you refrain from doing so, instead simply rocking your hips against nothing while you let him use you to take out his frustrations- fair enough, since you had caused them.

Adam keeps a steady rhythm while he fucks your face, your mouth open and lax for him to use as he pleases; only occasionally does he push in a little further, letting the head of his cock dip into the wet clutch of your throat and bump against your soft palate. “That’s fucking right,” he pants as he notices the tears that stream down your cheeks- he uses the thumb of the hand still holding your mouth open to brush an errant drop away from your cheekbone. “You look good like this- fuck, I would have let you choke on my cock sooner if I knew that’s what was gonna finally shut you the fuck up.” You feel the thick vein along the bottom of his length jump with his words where it rubs against your tongue and you know he’s close, the thought of it making you whine around him.

He grunts at the feeling, hips losing their steady movements and his hand tightening in your hair, yanking your head forward and back over him- and then he pulls completely out suddenly, his fist clenched tight around the base of his cock. “Say you fucking want it,” he demands, tugging your hair so your heads tilts enough that you have nowhere to look but at him. Sweat drips down his forehead and chest, darkening the fabric of his shirt so you can see the coarse hair beneath it. “Say you want my cum and maybe I’ll give it to you, even though you don’t fucking derserve it. Come on.” He bumps the head of his cock against your lips and your tongue darts out to greet it, the shock of salt across your tongue enough to break your resolve. 

“Please,” you whisper desperately, your voice raspy and rough from how long Adam had been at it. “Fuck, please, Adam-”

“You gonna stop fucking talking back to me? Questioning me?” His hand resumes a slow stroke, the tip glistening with fluid that drips onto the mats below you when he pulls away from your eager tongue.

Fuck no. Not when this was the result it got you. “Not in front of the rest of the squad?” You offer as a compromise, and you can see him considering it before he relents. He wanted your mouth back on him more than he wanted a promise of peace- and honestly, you think he kind of likes the sass.

He parts your lips with his prick again, pushing deep with a single thrust. “I’ll take it,” he groans, and his hips are pistoning once again, not being as careful about not choking this time as he chases his release with the slick hole your mouth provides him. “Fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum- fuck, yes-”

He swells in your mouth and spills himself. There’s a couple hot pulses of spend that shoot down your throat and coat your tongue, the last couple of shots streaking across your face and lips when he pulls back, still fisting his cock to coax the last drops out and onto your lips.

The taste is thick and bitter, lingering long after you’ve swallowed. But you’ve never been so turned on in your life, the ache between your thighs transforming into an inferno at the look he gives you, still rocking your hips against the air. He drops to his knees on the mat with you, shoving his hand under the waistband of your training shorts and tracing the folds of your pussy with his thick fingers. “Fuck me, that’s hot,” he mutters. “You got like this just letting me toss you around and suck me off, huh? You want my fingers?” You nod, face flaming, and he brushes the pad of a digit across your clit, your hips jolting. “You want my cock?”

“Please,” you murmur, the sound soft, your head dropping onto his shoulder. “Please, Adam.”

His head turns, lips against your ear as he whispers- “that’s too fucking bad.” And then his hand is yanking out of your shorts and he’s standing, the movement dislodging your head against his shoulder and tipping you sideways onto the mat. From your vantage point on the floor, you see that cocky smirk of his is back in place despite the sweat that drips from his hairline, the flush of his cheeks after a damn good orgasm. “Fucking told you in the beginning that being a mouthy brat doesn’t get rewarded- you have fun taking care of that yourself.” He points finger-guns towards your shorts before bringing the hand he had dipped into your panties to his mouth, and the sputter of indignation you manage doesn’t get much farther than your throat as he sucks your slick from his digits with a mean wink. “Let’s try this again sometime when you learn how to show some respect to your fucking superiors.”

By the time you’ve managed to get yourself back into a somewhat upright position, he’s scooped his mask and robes off the floor and flown out of the training room. The slam of the door echoes in the now empty space, along with your frustrated groan as you fall onto your back.

[m-jelly]

Another thing that popped into my mind. PE teacher Levi x art teacher reader (you can pick a different subject if you dont like the art one).

I can see that Levi is the tough PE teacher at school and known for being strict. but when students start to notice that Levi is soft around reader, the new teacher that joined the school. Also, they found out they are dating they are shocked and also ship it. Maybe like a bonus scene where levi and reader are about to kiss but got caught by a few students secretly watching them?

@kenkopanda-art <3

The wonders of teachers in love.

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, romance, teachers, falling in love, secret romance, students shipping teachers, fluff.

Students at Paradis High School/Secondary School adore their PE teacher, Levi, he is someone they can talk to and confide in but he can be strict in lessons. When a new teacher arrives to teach art, the students start to notice a change in their PE teacher and they're curious.

@ladycheesington @darkstarlight82 @levisbrat25 @galactict3a @nyxiieluna

@li-anne @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @emilyyyy-08 @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird

@searriously

Annie started at Levi as he talked to Connie. "Armin."

Armin stretched a little. "Yeah?"

"He's changed."

Armin frowned a bit. "Who?"

She nodded to Levi. "Mr Ackerman. He seems...softer...I liked him as a strict teacher. He is still great, but he's softer."

Armin watched Levi talk to Connie for a bit before sending him on his way. "You're right. He's changed since our new art teacher arrived."

"You're right."

Sasha slid up to the pair. "I think they're dating."

Annie hummed. "I don't know."

Armin tilted his head in thought. "I think they might be."

She turned away from watching. "I'm bored of watching him. Let's carry on the lesson."

After their lesson, Levi gave them kind parting words they went to their art lesson. A buzz was in the air as soon as they saw you. The lesson was fun and creative where they could make all sorts of things. As soon as the lesson ended and they started to leave they noticed Levi was waiting outside.

Levi looked down at the kids as they stared at him. "What?"

Jean gulped hard. "Are you here to see Miss?"

"Yes."

Historia gasped. "Really?"

He saw the sparkle in their eyes. "Yes. Teachers do talk with each other, you know."

Mikasa pushed Eren. "Eren, move."

Eren shifted. "Yeah, we should go."

Levi watched all the kids leave before slipping into your classroom. He closed the door and thought all the kids had gone, but he didn't know they were watching. "Bunny."

Sasha gasped before whispering. "See, I told you they are dating."

All of them peeked through the window and watched Levi smile at you, you started giggling and lightly touching Levi's cheek. Next thing they knew, the two of you were cuddling. They could tell the hug was not one friend's do because both of you had one hand on the other's lower back and lightly touched the other's bum.

"Hey." All of them panicked and looked at their friend Reiner. "What are you all doing?"

Flustered and embarrassed they were caught, all of them scattered from the door and parted ways. It was clear now you and Levi were an item. Levi had swooped in as soon as you joined as a teacher. Some of the guys were bummed out because of a little school crush, but they knew they never had a chance.

Eren was probably bothered the most. He respected and liked Levi as a teacher and role model, but he also had a crush on you so seeing his role model tale you romantically made him think. It made him think so much that when he went to the toilet during lessons he was just wandering the hall deep in thought.

As soon as Eren rounded the corner he came to a stop. Before Eren's eyes, Levi pinned you against the lockers making you giggle. Eren watched as Levi tilted his head a bit and moved closer to kiss you and you were leaning in as well. Right as you were about to kiss each other, an audible gasp came from someone.

Eren went bright red as Levi and you stared towards him, but it seemed the person of interest was behind him. He turned to see Sasha. "Sasha?"

She pointed. "See, I told you they were dating!"

Levi pulled from you with a strong blush on his face. He walked over with you next to him. "Tch, oi you two. why are you in the halls?"

Eren blushed more. "T-Toilet."

Levi stopped in front of him. "Alright, be on your way then. What about you?"

Sasha grinned. "Toilet also. You're such a cute couple!"

You hummed a laugh. "Thank you, Sasha, but you should go to the bathroom. Hurry up or your teacher will think you raided the kitchen again."

"Y-Yes miss."

You waved as the kids ran off. You sighed before turning to Levi. "So, Mr horny, how about we keep our make-out sessions to elsewhere, hmm?"

Levi pulled you close. "There's a private spot in the gym."

You giggled. "Perfect."

[jsprnt]

you’re pretty upset when you spot your husband not wearing his ring in a recent video

andrew robertson x reader

A/N: a tricky one, but I think I made it work ;) thank you for requesting!

W/C: 1.427

a wedding ring

to some, it’s a tangible object that is meant to symbolize the unification of two people. to others, a ring wasn't that much of importance, even paper rings would suffice to signify the love two individuals have for each other.

you were part of the first group. you had never even dreamed of taking the rock off your finger. the only exception being when you needed to get your hands dirty when cooking up some delicious food.

of course, the glimmering diamond on your ring finger was absolutely breathtaking. carefully chosen by your husband. suited exactly to your personal style and taste.

it was something you also tried to do for him. you didn't want to gift him a boring, silver wedding band, bland and basic. so, you'd visited multiple different jewelers until you found the right one.

then, imagine how pissed off you are when you're scrolling on your phone, only to see a video of your husband not wearing his ring during a recent press conference concerning his upcoming match.

you glance down at your own wedding ring, getting more and more irritated by the second.

your husband wasn't even home from training yet, which allowed your anger to boil up ever more, because you couldn’t ask him about it immediately.

you finally turn your phone off, grumbling to yourself, and get up to do some last minute work around the house. it was your turn to make dinner tonight. safe to say those vegetables were chopped too finely due to the fury you couldn’t contain.

andrew usually came home right on time for dinner. so, you decide to eat dinner early, just to interact less with him.

you were being petty, but you felt like him not wearing his wedding ring shouldn't go unpunished.

the front door opens half an hour later, your husband calling out to you from the entrance.

you ignore him, too focused on washing the dishes you used, to answer him, knowing it would become a childish argument.

"sweetheart? are you home?" he calls out, the confusion in his voice audible. you can hear him zip his jacket off, and the jingling of his keys, which he hangs up on the little sculpture you bought to spruce up the entrance.

again, you refuse to answer. drying the washed dishes with the gray kitchen towel and placing them back in the cupboard.

"bonnie?"

you try to ignore the sweet scottish nickname he loved using, too focused on cleaning up.

you can hear some footsteps come closer, his shoes paddling against the gray floorboards.

you decide to turn around when you can feel how close he is. watching his arm reach over to bring you into a tight embrace. though, you move right on time to avoid his touch. escaping from underneath his arms.

he gasps, brows furrowing at your sudden behavior. you were fine this morning, happy as ever, only a little sad about him leaving so early for training.

so, why would you be avoiding his hugs, let alone his touch?

"love, what's wrong?" he asks, trying to analyze your facial expression.

"nothing.." you mumble, avoiding eye contact. your arms folded defensively.

"do you want a hug?" he asks, wondering if you need comfort. he inches closer, but you decide that to be petty - so you shake your head.

"that involves physical contact, and that's gross, so no." you deadpan, words harsh and stubborn.

‘gross?’ he thinks, frowning at your choice of words.

"eat dinner, table's set.." you add, voice quiet.

you immediately turn away, sulking when you catch glimpse of your ring again.

you can hear him call out to you, but you keep on walking up the stairs and step into your bedroom. maybe the comfort of the soft pillows and firm mattress will help instead.

"love, can you please tell me what's wrong?" he pleads, hand stopping you from closing the door.

you gnaw on your bottom lip, sighing while looking at him.

"just give me a moment.." you state, his eyes warm up, realizing you probably wanted a minute to yourself to sort your thoughts out.

"okay, I'll have dinner then..I’m going to come back later..." his voice is soft, just like how he speaks to you when you're crying over something or are feeling particularly down on dark, cloudy days.

guilt immediately creeps up on you. maybe you were being too petty and rude?

no, you always wear your ring- why wouldn't he?

you close the door in his face, shuffling to your bed and pulling the covers over your body.

all different types of thoughts go through your head. were you too dramatic, or were you rightfully upset? was this approach even a good one?

it doesn't take too much time, as you hear a knock on your bedroom door. you shift and turn, sitting up in bed.

"come in.." you mumble, fidgeting with your fingers.

andy steps inside slowly, his eyebrows raising at the sight of your defeated-looking figure.

"bonnie.." he begins, getting into the bed next to you.

"we're literally married. if you're angry at me, just tell me.." he says, hand reaching to carefully touch your hand. eyes on your face to detect any irritation or sadness on your face.

you look up at him when he grips your hand, his bigger hands entangled with yours. your eyes flicker around, finally making eye contact with him.

he can practically read all of the emotions you hold in your eyes after all these years together.

"won't you tell me, sweetheart? are you angry?"

he encourages, thumb running over your knuckles.

"yes, I’m angry- is that what you want to know?"

"about what?"

you sigh, a little embarrassed now.

"you love me, right?"

you notice the confusion and surprise on your husband's face, he starts nodding the moment the question leaves your mouth.

"of course, I love you.. with every part of my being.." he whispers, leaning in closer.

"then why did I see a video of you not wearing your ring?" you confront, facial expression hardening. 

"what are you talking about?"

you grab your phone off the nightstand, showing him the evidence that had you spiraling for the past hour or two.

"bonnie.." he begins, a chuckle leaving his lips.

you almost lash out at him when he laughs. was your sadness funny to him?

"come 'ere.." he urges, patting his lap. you eye him for a moment, but don’t fight back when he pulls you onto his lap.

"listen to me, ye?"

you nod, waiting to hear his explanation.

"remember when we talked about our wedding rings last month?"

you nod, tilting your head in confusion.

"and don't you remember me telling you I had to get mine cleaned?" he asks, thumb making soft and soothing circles on your knee.

you freeze, heat from embarrassment creeping up on your face. you groan, covering your face with your hands, moving your head away.

"hey, look at me, ye?" he says, trying to pry your hands away from your face.

"there's my love's precious face.." he coos, grinning softly at your cute behavior.

he raises his hand, showing off the wedding band that is clearly on his finger.

"you know, I wear it all the time except for training and during matches. if I was allowed to wear it I would..” he reminds you, leaning in to kiss your forehead tenderly.

"I wear mine constantly, just like you do. it's as important to me, as it is to you. you got that?" he asks, running his hand down your back.

you hum, feeling silly and stupid for fretting over something so easily explained away.

"I'm sorry, kind of stupid of me to assume.." you trail off, looking into his brown eyes.

"it's alright, I understand the confusion, but please just ask me about something that’s bothering you, before you start to ignore me?"

you nod, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"I will, I'll ask you before assuming.."

he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your head. the sound makes his chest rumble, in turn, you feel the vibrations on your cheek.

your husband would do anything to please his partner. so, don't you be surprised the next time he comes home with a tattoo on his ring finger.

yes, the needle pressing against the bone of his knuckle hurt like a bitch. but, if it meant he could ease your mind and wear a symbol of his love for you 24/7. he would do it without hesitation.

[biggestxsimps]

How about Harry Potter X shark like wizard reader.

Like reader accidentally turned himself into a shark once but couldn't fully turn back, so now he's human with tiny shark features.

Like features like sharp teeth or like webbed fingers.

And it's like really fluffy...

You guys can decide what kinda story since tbh...Idk what to do..

Have a nice day🪻 ( ・∇・)

Harry Potter x Shark-Like Male Reader Scenarios

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I’ll admit, it was pretty tough to write this, but I hope it’s alright! Also sorry that it took so long, I’ve been a little busy recently. This is just a few short scenarios put together, I haven't written stuff in this layout before so I hope it’s okay. I just reread the request and omg I forgot to add the fluff.😭

Small mentions of blood! Nothing gorey, just a bit of bleeding.

~~~

Harry's POV:

It was quite normal to see students with extra limbs, animal parts and inhuman features, but usually it was the effect of a spell or potion. So one boy really threw me off, I hadn't seen him around before he introduced himself to me. I thought the gills or the webbed fingers were just a result of something he took. 

But after seeing him around a few more times, I noticed that they hadn’t gone away. I had never seen him without those fish-like features. I’ve seen a lot but this truly puzzled me. 

I had planned on asking him how he’d had gotten them, or if he was born with them. But I barely knew him, I didn’t want to make him feel uncomfortable, or weird him out with my curiosity.

~~~

I was in the Great Hall, eating my dinner when my eyes landed upon the odd boy again. Y/N. I know it’s rude to stare but I couldn’t help it. Once he went to take a bite out of a drumstick, I noticed his incredibly sharp teeth. They savagely ripped through the chicken, cleaning the bone in a matter of seconds, my body shivering at the sight.

That’s when I hear a gasp and a wince. I look back over at the boy, one of his pointy teeth in his right hand, blood slightly dripping from his mouth. The students around him started to worry, he dismissed them, the conversation barley being audible from where I sat.

“Don’t worry, it happens like every other week.”

I watched as his goofy smile grew wider, while he explained to the other students that another tooth would replace it in the matter of a couple days. Wow.

~~~

I had gotten closer to Y/N, we hang out pretty often now. I had invited him to hang out around the castle, it being a weekend, neither of us had all that much to do. I saw him walking from one of the halls, noticing him wearing his own clothes opposed to the school robes I was so used to seeing him in.

We greeted each other as he walked up to me, him asking me to lead the way on our ‘little adventure’ around Hogwarts. I chuckle before starting to walk, my steps stumble as my eyes adjust to the back of his clothes though. I thought it was just my eyes playing a trick on me, but once taking a closer look I realised what I had seen.

A small pointy (S/C) fin protruding from the top of his back. “Are you alright, Harry.” I look over to his face, his lips curved in a confused smile, I quickly nod as I catch back up with him. God, what else was he hiding?

~~~

Y/N and I were going steady now, we’ve been together for about a month now. I had planned on confessing to him during one of our hangouts, but he beat me to it. But it turned out all the same nevertheless. 

Most nights we hang out, whether it be in our common rooms or around the halls, even outside Hogwarts walls. But tonight he told me to meet him at the Great Lake, telling me had something he wanted to show me. I’d never been a fan of the lake but it wasn’t like there was any harm in going.

So that’s what I was doing now, making my way to the Great Lake. It wasn’t long until I saw Y/N in the distance, sitting just behind the water with his arms wrapped around his legs. His head turns back at the sound of my approaching steps, a bright smile appearing on his face as he greeted me. 

“G’ Evening, Love.” He lifts himself up, dusting the back of his pants before walking towards me. “Evening Y/N.” I smile up at the gushing boy in front of me. “You brought your swimsuit, yeah?” I nod. “Yeah, just like you asked.” I feel my smile widen looking at him, his own being too contagious.

“Alright, alright. Come in with me.” I watch as he pulls off his shirt, his fin slightly getting in the way, before diving into the lake. I follow his actions, making my way to the water as he swims around, waiting for me. 

I swim my way to him, far enough for the lake to be moderately deep before he swims around me, after a couple laps he dives into the water. I look around, waiting for him to pop back up, but he never does. “Y/N?” It had only been about 40 seconds but he must’ve been pretty far enough down, to where I couldn’t see him from outside of the water.

I start to panic at around the minute and a half mark, frantically looking around to see if he came up before sinking into the water. There I see him, smiling as he waves from about 10 metres below me. Bubbles start to escape the gills on his cheeks and that’s when I realise, I bring my head back up, Y/N swimming back to the top at the same time.

“You scared me for a minute there.” I admit as his goofy grin just grows. His arms wrap around me, chuckling as he lets out a "Oops, sorry." I playfully roll my eyes before reaching for his cheek, his head leaning further into the touch.

~~~

A/N: I read that shark’s typically lose 1 tooth every week and have it replaced in a day, so I thought I’d add it lol. I haven’t been that motivated as of recently, so I’m sorry if this isn’t written as well as some of my other fics. And sorry for how ooc Harry is oml.  I've also got a couple more requests to get out, so please forgive me if they come out a little late 🤧

Also thank you guys so so much for 300 followers!! We are so thankful to all of you that have interacted with our stuff, we really appreciate you all!

Masterlist

- Written by Owner 1

[just-another-star-47]

🌶 NSFW 🌶

- You wanted it, so here you have it. ;) -

Enough is enough

Teasing Sebastian after his Quidditch game was probably a tad too much.

"So, how does it feel to be a loser?"

Leaning on her broom, she grinned cheekily at the Slytherin Beater as he put his feet back on the ground.

He glared at her angrily, "Are you that obsessed with my reaction that you're waiting for me to tell me that?"

"I'm just tired of having to listen to what a bad flyer I am," she nagged back, putting her left arm on her hip as Sebastian stepped closer.

"Just because you stayed on your bloody broom during one game doesn't make you a good one."

"But the fact that we won does. And how skilfully I dodged the blutcher you hurled in my direction - a master stroke."

Sebastian leant down to her for a moment, clutching his broom as he audibly sucked in his breath through his nose.

"Are you so fucking disrespectful to all the older students?"

"Only to you," she returned, holding the gaze of his dark eyes, the corner of her mouth twitching.

It seemed as if a thousand answers were running through Sebastian's mind, but instead he just shook it and broke free from his stupor. Whirling the bat through the air, he marched across the Quidditch pitch, heading for the exit to the changing rooms. Eyes narrowed and lips pursed, she followed his figure with her gaze before walking in the same direction at a distance.

"You're slacking off, Sebastian."

"And you don't know when to stop."

She snorted: "You're only saying that because you can't think of any more quick-witted answers. Or you're too cowardly to say them."

Sebastian stood still without turning round to face her and waited until she had reached his level. The right corner of his mouth pulled up into a grin as she stopped beside him.

"What exactly is your problem, huh?"

He placed the broom and bat against a wall, not taking his eyes off her, and then slowly walked towards her, pushing her against a door and into one of the small storage rooms next to the changing rooms.

"So obsessed with my every reaction. You think I can't see your eyes light up when I talk back to you?"

She could see the individual freckles on his face, the way his skin shone after the strenuous Quidditch match. His scent enveloped her and made her realise how close he was to her - and yet she couldn't suppress the urge to push their game even further.

"They light up when I realise you've got nothing on me. Don't you pride yourself on being particularly witty?"

She raised an eyebrow as a sign of her scepticism. "Maybe you should start showing me some of that."

"Right now, I just want you to shut up for once."

He pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist, his breath fanning across her lips.

"Oh, you mean I'd let something like that upset me..." Her words died on her lips as his lower abdomen pressed against hers along with the rest of his body.

"Oh? That's what keeps you quiet?" Sebastian grinned and grabbed her face with one hand, pressing his fingers against her cheeks as his eyes flitted intently over every detail of her face. They widened as her pupils dilated, and her lips parted slightly.

"Fuck. You really like that."

His eyes boring into hers, he pressed her against the wall and lifted one of her legs to better thrust his arousal against her core.

"Is this what you wanted all along? You damn little brat."

Instead of an answer, she closed the last few centimetres between their lips, a kiss that Sebastian hungrily returned. Overwhelmed, her brain didn't know what to focus on first. The way his lips felt demanding and passionate on hers, the way each kiss sent another shiver of fire through her entire body. Or the way the movements of his hips created a friction that made her weak in the knees.

She gasped against his open mouth before her head slumped back against the wall, eyes closed, brows drawn together in pleasure.

"Damn, you're perfect...," Sebastian murmured, his eyes fixed on her expression.

As her lower body moved with his and pressed rhythmically against him, he bit his lower lip and rested his forehead against her shoulder, a restrained whimper escaping his throat. His lips sought out the open spaces on her neck, kissing and nibbling the skin up to her jaw. Her fingers tangled in his clothes, her hips trembling, seeking more contact, more friction as she pulled him closer.

The feeling of his hard erection beneath the fabric of his pants drove her wild - how it rubbed against her core, spreading tingles through her whole body and slowly building up the pleasure inside of her.

With a bite of her earlobe, Sebastian stopped his movements, his chest rising and falling noticeably as he leant against the wall and looked at her with heavy-lidded eyes. A cheeky laugh played around his lips as he put some distance between them.

"Have some sweet dreams about me tonight."

Once more, he kissed her, losing his control for a moment as his tongue touched hers. And yet he pulled back, grinned at her once more and winked before leaving her alone in the small room.

All snippets in chronological order here.

[reblog-house]

Ice Creams of Divorce

Characters: Bdubs, Cleo, Scar, Etho

Wc: 920

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 244, “Critical Ice Cream”

Ao3: Here!

“Mhmm,” Bdubs exaggerated delight with a mouthful of ice cream. “Delicious, right Cleo?”

Cleo didn’t respond. Bdubs turned to his left and they were glaring daggers at Etho from across the table. Etho, on his part, was bent towards the table trying to bring the ice cream to his face, but every time he moved the spoon closer, Cleo’s face hardened.

“Mom,” he whined. “The ice cream’s good, right?”

Cleo glanced at Bdubs and let out a small smile. “Of course, Bdubs.” Then looked back at the odd one out and continued frowning.

“Yes, Bdubs,” Scar said, across the table with his mouth full. “The ice cream is delicious. But it would be even better without Mister Deadbeat over there.”

“Come on, guys! He’s trying to reach out! Right dad?” Etho tried to speak but Bdubs continued. “Look! He’s here!”

“Yes, Bdubs, and that’s exactly the problem.”

“But! You guys were all in for the idea of inviting him! And it was all VERY civil during the meal! No one clawed the other’s eyes out! It makes no sense!”

“Oh, that was before dessert.” Scar said nonchalantly and Cleo nodded firmly, like that made any sense.

“So what!”

“I…” Etho spoke up, and all the eyes turned to him. He gulped, audibly. “I think I should probably… get going now.”

“What! No, dad!”

“Oh?” Cleo raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Is your little friend group calling? Asking when you’ll stop ‘babysitting’?”

Bdubs gasped. “Oh, don’t you speak of TIES like that! They’re great people, I’ll have you know!”

Cleo and Scar looked at him and then at each other. He couldn’t read their minds but he didn’t like whatever was happening, no siree! 

“Right… Scar, could you and Bdubs go for a walk?” they said, eyes never leaving Etho.

“Gladly!” Scar said, pushing his chair back. A crash followed. Scar looked down and pouted. “Awe, my cane, not again.”

Bdubs wanted to say ‘told you so’ but he didn’t think it would be the best idea.

Still, he muttered, “Told you not to hook it on the chair.”

Scar was close enough to hear him, but he clearly ignored it. Or maybe he was just too focused on trying to get his cane from the floor that he didn’t listen. He was like that.

He should help him get it.

At once, it hit Bdubs. “Wait, no!” Eyes on him again. He corrected his tone. “What about we don’t go?” 

Bdubs could probably count the amount of hairs on Cleo that turned gray in the length of the conversation.

“Pray tell, why would you not?”

“Because you would kill him and he couldn’t defend himself! No offense Etho.”

“None taken, sadly.” His voice grew sad. “I’ve already been called washed up and past my prime—”

“That’s a lie!”

“—Cleo would kill me instantly. I’ve accepted it.”

“Look at what you did!” Bdubs said to his mom. “The comment still hurts him!”

“I never said he was washed up! Everyone else said that but me!” They tried to defend themself but the cards weren’t in their favor.

“Clockers! Etho!” Scar said suddenly. He was already standing, cane in hand. When did he pick it up? “We’re getting too off-topic now! Come on, Bdubs.”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Bdubs…” Scar said with a threatening voice.

“I wanna hear what mom’s gonna say.”

Cleo sighed. “Take a seat Scar. Finish your ice creams.”

Bdubs had completely forgotten about it, and by the looks of it, so had Scar. Both scoops had already half-melted.

“Look, Etho… I hate putting the children in the middle of this—”

Bdubs wanted to retort that he wasn’t a child. So he did. They all ignored him.

“But if you want to be present in their lives, we could strike up an arrangement. Won’t suddenly drop Bdubs on you nor will you visit unannounced. You could call ahead and decide when to see them. That could be a thing. Nothing’s stopping you.

“If, however,” she continued, “you’re gonna be an absent father, could you be at least absent?”

The room grew dead silent.

Then, cackling. 

“Oh my god.” Scar said as he laughed.

A puff of air escaped Bdubs. Then, he felt something start to rise to his throat, stuck there for a second. 

And it escaped.

Bdubs laughed.

His eyes closed and he didn’t hear his parents join in, but their exhales felt less tense now. Almost fond.

After a bit, they stopped laughing. The air was silent, but no longer thick. Bdubs looked at his dad.

Etho breathed, then said, “Yeah I would… I think I would like that. The first thing. If Scar doesn’t mind. I know he hates me.”

“And that won’t change any time soon,” Scar said like a reminder. “But whatever makes Bdubs happy. Just remember, you mess with one of us, you mess with all, Mister Slab. Clockers stay together above it all. Remember that.”

Etho nodded firmly. “I will.”

“Oh, one more thing,” Cleo said. “You can’t take Bdubs to your crew of friends. I don’t trust they’re good role models for him.”

“Mom!”

Etho hummed. “You know, yeah, I see what you mean.”

“WHAT.”

“We’re a bit rowdy,” he added thoughtfully.

Cleo groaned. “Don’t ever say that again or I’ll rescind the invitation.” They rested their arms on the table. “So, are we on the same page?”

Etho looked at Bdubs, then at Scar. Then, back at Cleo. And with determination in his voice, “Yes. We are.”

[rebel-walnut]

Let's Do The Time Warp Again

Steddie Season 3 time travel fic, Part 4

Ao3, Pt. 1, Pt.2, Pt.3

"Tell me again."

Dustin is sitting in the corner booth of Scoops Ahoy wearing the dorkiest summer camp getup Eddie has ever seen. Steve is sitting across from him with Robin standing slightly off to the side, Eddie trailing farther back near the door where the sign is still flipped to closed. 

Steve has just finished giving Dustin the rough outline of hey I'm actually from a year in the future and so is that weird guy with the long hair and we're totally superly and utterly fucked and should probably get back so we can stop messing with the timeline, even though we were maybe about to die in our own timeline. Or something along those lines. This is the third time Dustin has asked Steve to explain it again.

Steve drags his hands down his face and clasps them under his chin, staring Dustin down. "I told you everything I know, man. We finished off Vecna, or at least I thought we did, I heard the bell chimes in 1986 and then the earth opened up and I woke up in 1895,"

Dustin scrunches up his nose. "Yeah I got that, but what specifically happened before you woke up?" 

Steve's face screws up into a look of total concentration before he spins in his seat to peer over the back of the booth at Eddie. "I… can't remember. Eddie, what do you remember before you woke up at the record store?" 

Eddie's hands automatically come to the phantom bites and tears at his sides as he pushes back the rising sense of fear that's latching in his throat.

"I remember dying. The bats all fell to the ground, but it was already too late for me. I remember Henderson came to me, and then I think it was you, Harrington," All eyes in the room are trained intently on Eddie as he pauses. He swallows.

"And then, I think those vines started opening. I'm pretty sure someone was carrying me, but the ground went all red like the gate in the trailer. I think I blacked out after that- pain or death I'm not sure- but then I was alive a year ago behind the counter of Hot Wax. Jury's still out whether it's a blessing or a curse."

Steve's mouth opens with a small gasp that's barely audible while his eyes light up in recognition. The weight of his awed stare is too much to handle, Eddie redirecting his gaze to the very interesting plain tile of the shop and toeing his sneaker at the cracks between them.

"I was the one carrying you when we fell into the gate."

Eddie's gaze snaps back up.

"What?" He says at the same time Dustin yells, "That's it!" While smacking his hands down on the table. 

"Wait, wait, wait," Steve's attention turns back to Eddie, "We fell through the gate together? And you were carrying me?" 

Steve nods, "Bridal style."

"'Bridal style,' Jesus H. Christ-" Of fucking course the one time Steve Harrington would ever be holding Eddie is when he's too dead to notice it- bridal style no less. 

"So that makes sense why you're here together then," Dustin adds, butting back into the conversation. "I just don't get why it sent you here though, I mean based on how those gates have worked in the past, you should have just popped out on the right side up. Definitely not a year ago and at a different location altogether."

Dustin is getting that look on his face that Eddie only sees during D&D combat, the face that says he's already analyzing every possible outcome and weighing every possible pro and con. "Do you think every gate has the ability to work that way or just the one you two fell through?" Dustin is staring expectantly at Steve and Eddie despite the fact that they have just as much information about the upside down as Dustin has. Actually-

"Time works differently in the upside down, remember? Wheeler's journal stopping when the Byers kid went missing?" Eddie's eyes are jumping between Steve and Dustin, both of them scrunching their noses then returning their gaze to the table in an honestly adorable mirror of each other. Robin, meanwhile, continues to stare at the three like they've lost their minds. 

"But why stop time when Will went missing?" Dustin directs this one towards Eddie with a slight hesitation that hits Eddie right in the chest- he keeps having to remind himself that this kid doesn't know him yet. Eddie steels himself with a hard swallow.

"Maybe he was the first thing from the outside world to get to the upside down," Steve's eyes lock into Eddie. "It's not a huge jump from stopping time to warping time, especially since those gates totally have some supernatural voodoo going on."

Robin steps forward from her place resting against an adjacent booth to lean in between Steve and Dustin, her knees not stilling their shake as she ducks her head conspiratorially. "So you losers are telling me-"

"Hey!" Dustin's screeching is apparently exactly the same in '86 as it was in '85.

"-that this hell-dimension not only exists, contains monsters -and mind controlling ones at that!- but can also manipulate time?" Robin's eyes grow impossibly larger as she stares between all three of them.

Eddie comes up behind the corner booth and drops his hands onto Steve's shoulders, the sudden weight causing a jolt up Steve's spine as he turns to meet Eddie's eyes. "Precisely, Miss Buckley. However, Harrington over here luckily has done this before. I suggest we use him to make a timeline of everything that happened so we know exactly what we're up against. Then we go back -or I guess, forward- in time and fix this shit," He shoots a winning grin at Steve before giving a quick squeeze to his shoulders and letting go. 

Steve looks away with a cough before stammering back at Robin, "Um- yeah, he's right. Grab the 'you suck' board," Robin squints her eyes as she looks between Steve and Eddie, slowly backing away from the booth to head to the back room. 

Eddie slides into the seat next to Steve, throwing an arm around him and jostling his shoulder in an overdramatic show of comfort. "Don't worry Harrington, we'll be back to our regularly scheduled deaths a year from now very shortly," Steve grimaces.

"Crazy, that's kind of what I'm worried about," Eddie squeezes his shoulder again as Robin returns with a whiteboard covered in tallies, all of them falling to one side under the title declaring 'YOU SUCK.' 

Robin catches his smirk, "It's to keep track of all the times Steve has failed to hit on women in the shop," Eddie's cackle gets Steve to fully turn to Robin.

"I'll have you know I'm a changed man, Robin."

"Oh yeah, Steve?" Dustin's shit eating grin is as bright as ever. "You got a girlfriend in '86 we don't know about?" Eddie's snort is all the confirmation Dustin needs to laugh in the face of Steve's love life. 

"If you count telling Wheeler about his '6 kids and a Winnebago' dream then maybe-" Eddie's laughter is stifled by Steve's sharp elbow in his ribs.

"You heard that?!" The horror in Steve's eyes is priceless.

"Hard to ignore your huge ass heart eyes when there's like eight of us crammed up in your suburban-wet-dream-mobile-" Steve clamps a hand over Eddie's mouth, fingers digging into the side of his cheek.

"Shut up," Steve says all low and probably unintentionally sultry, but Eddie sees the smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. And oh man, it's taking everything Eddie has not to close his eyes and replay the last ten seconds under totally different circumstances. He's sure his cheeks are flushed to hell, but he can't tell if it's his own delusions or the heat that's painting Steve's cheeks a similar shade of pink.

The alarm on Steve's watch goes off, causing him to pull his hand back and stare at the small screen. "Shit, lunch rush."

Robin glances up through the window to the rest of the mall, then back at Steve. "We can't stay closed during lunch. Being a bit low on sales today is one thing, but Nate will definitely notice if there's nothing in the till," Steve nods, making a shooing motion at Eddie so he can leave the booth. Steve goes to unlock the door and flip the sign back to open, before throwing a considering look at Eddie.

"Don't you have a job you're supposed to be at now?" 

Eddie waves him off. "More pressing matters at play right now, don't you think?"

Steve's brow furrows in the way Eddie is becoming increasingly more familiar with. "Yeah, but we don't know how long we'll be stuck here for. Better to mess with things as little as possible in case there's bigger repercussions than we think," And that, well Eddie can't argue with actual logic and reasoning as much as he would like to.

"Fine, I'll go grovel to my manager about food poisoning or some shit," he brushes past Steve as he opens the door, triggering the small bell hanging from the frame. "Don't miss me too much, Harrington," Eddie gives him a small salute as he leaves, and if he leans in a bit too close to Steve's face to see if he blushes that beautiful shade of pink again (he does), that's nobody's business but his.

Thirteen minutes, a very cool yet annoyed manager named Sherrie, and an exceedingly long-winded story about how Eddie was 'just really going to shit my pants if I don't leave like right now, or maybe I'll vomit, or maybe both' later, Eddie was skipping back into the cool air of Scoops Ahoy. 

Steve and Robin were situated behind the counter at the front with Dustin still taking up the whole corner booth to himself, slinging ice cream for various ungrateful children and middle aged parents alike. A surprisingly long line has formed in the short time it took Eddie to lie to Sherrie's face, and as bad as he felt about it, seeing Steve goddamn Harrington twirl his ice cream scooper around and dole out charm left and right in those ridiculously short shorts made it all worth it.

Robin catches his eye as the bell announces his arrival, a Cheshire cat smile crawling across her features while she finishes serving a group of middle schoolers. Eddie's stomach drops as she shoots him a wink over her shoulder while she bustles into the back room, coming out only a moment later with the worst possible solution to their problems.

"We need Steve to write out the timeline, and I don't know if you noticed, but we also currently need two people scooping," Eddie blanches as her sly grin grows somehow wider. He catches Steve smirking while Robin shakes the fabric in her hand in Eddie's direction. 

"No, absolutely not," Eddie says while Steve meets his eyes through his lashes, face still turned down towards the freezer. Eddie stills just long enough for Robin to huck the folded set in his direction, smacking him in the face and falling into his hands. "Make Henderson do it."

"He's a child."

"So? What's a little child labor for the fate of the universe?" Steve snorts as he hands a cone into a greedy child's hands while Eddie thumbs the abrasive cloth in his hands. "I'll be ridiculed."

"Oh come on, if we can do it, so can you. Now get changed, Munson. Or should I say, sailor," Robin Buckley will be the death of him, Eddie's calling it right now. She comes around to lead him by the shoulders into the back room, leaving mock soothing pats along his arms.

"Oh- one more thing," She gives him one last shove into the back room before crossing her arms, "That's Steve's spare uniform, we each have one. Just so you know. Or, you can wear mine if you want…" 

Eddie's sure his cheeks are flushing for the millionth time today. He blubbers like a fish as he tries to meet Robin's knowing eyes before stammering out a quick, "No, this is fine."

Robin closes the door with a grin and a nod, leaving Eddie to slump down onto the dinky table. He thumbs over the garish blue and red fabric before he finds a small red and yellow embroidered patch that says 'Steve' across the chest with a small anchor on the edge. Fucking of course.

His head snaps up to the sound of the sliding window opening as Steve himself folds his arms across the ledge.

"One more thing for your uniform, and trust me, it's completely mandatory," The teasing lilt to Steve's voice causes Eddie's eyebrow to quirk up as he sets the uniform (costume) down next to him. In one swift motion, Steve swipes the sailor hat -that Eddie is just now noticing he put back on- off his head and tosses through the window, landing lightly in Eddie's palms.

"Welcome aboard, Munson," Steve says with a wink, sliding the window shut again and leaving Eddie with a terrible costume and a list of things to try not to think about.

_____

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[rancidpancakebatter]

We Write the Story-[P.P.] | Chapter Three

Pairings: TASM!Peter Parker x (Black!)Hispanic!College!Female!Reader

Chapter Summary:  The battle is won, but the war is far from over

Takes place during No Way Home

Word Count: 3.9k words

Content: Some superhero fighting, angst, language, mentions of death,

( Previous | Chapter List | Next )

A/N: This chapter is pretty dialogue heavy, and I definitely struggle with that. So if you see any parts that need clarity, PLEASE TELL ME. I can't improve if I don't know where to grow.

This chapter is definitely a little more angsty but the fun stuff is coming as soon as I watch across the spider-verse

Your arms sting from the whipping cold air. The chill floated off the water and soaked you to the bone. You almost felt like you were buzzing-your brain hummed off adrenaline. 

Then you felt strong arms. Textured webbing sticking awkwardly on your clothes. A loud thwip and a jolt as your body stopped moving. You opened your eyes and summer bourbon bulbs bored into you, glassy like morning dew. His gaze was fixed on you, your rising chest, your frightened expression, your shaking body. Signs of life. 

His lips trembled slightly as he tried to steady his ragged breaths, “Are you okay?”

You can’t move your eyes from his, lost in the greige swimming in auburn pools. You slowly register his words, then nod your head. His head collapses forward like it was taking all his strength to keep it up before. 

“Oh, thank God.”

You say nothing, just letting his body rack with sobs, so feeling too in shock yourself to cry. You brought a hand up to his hair, just holding him for a moment. 

But your moment of peace was quickly disturbed by the cry of Michelle.

“PETER!”

You look up, then follow her gaze to the fallen shield resting at the base of Lady Liberty, where Petey is face to face with the Green Goblin. Petey was crouched low to the ground— full attack position. You could see the rigidity in his muscles, a kind of tension that scared you. But not as much as his cold expression, which was only made more horrifying by the scrapes and cuts littering his face. The Goblin chuckled at something Petey had said, and while it was too far away to hear, you could feel it. 

“Get me over there.”

You can see Peter shake his head in your peripheral, “No. Absolutely not; it’s not safe.”

You attempt to leave his grasp, but he just readjusts his arms, and you continue to watch on. 

They begin to dance around each other. Petey usually fights defensively, but you watch in horror as he charges the demented old man. He shoots off a few webs that the other man dodges, then swings and traps the man’s foot against the polished copper beneath them. 

The following punch is audible. You watch as the older man crumpled to the ground and gasp. You had seen him and Petey fight before. You had watched Petey swing with powerful, calculated fists while escaping Happy’s. When the Goblin’s nauseating cackle filled the air, he took each blow with a smile on his face. The Goblin wasn’t just insane, but very intelligent and strong enough to do some real damage. 

You quickly realise that Petey isn’t holding back. You watch as he launches himself into the air, then directs all of his weight and force into his fist. The Goblin dodges out of the way, probably doing the math like you did and calculating that Peter’s fist would have absolutely gone through his skull if he didn’t move. Instead, it hit the metal and you felt the shockwaves in your ribs.

“He needs me; let me go!”

Before you can argue further, Peter is securing you to him like you were tandem climbing. You wrapped your arms around his neck, a knee-jerk reaction to suddenly being launched. He shot two webs on the scaffolding, flinging himself up the side. He tried his best not to jostle you as he continued his way up.

He only made an effort to distance himself once you were back on stable ground and fully had your footing. There was a slight tremor in his hands as he tore away the web that attached you, and every time you caught his eyes, he looked at you like you were a ghost. 

You wanted to question it further, but you didn’t have the time. Your brother needed you. The only family you had left needed you. 

Peter took a running start to the railing, and you immediately chased after him. 

He abruptly turned, grabbing your shoulders. “(Y/n), listen to me. It’s not safe. You can’t come with. Stay here, where it’s safe.”

You felt your eyes water, and finally, you let out everything you had. The grief you never acknowledged, the fear you tucked away, the multiple near-death experiences, everything. But you still didn’t have time for grief- you had to act. You felt a rage burning in your bones, a true outrage for the injustice you had been served by the universe, and you let Peter have all of it. 

“Don’t tell me about staying safe. No amount of being careful will save you. I know you know that. But you listen here: I don’t know who (Y/n) was to you in your world, but I’m not her. And in my world, I have exactly one person left. He has never stopped saving people because it wasn’t safe, and I will not leave him.”

Peter blinked a few times, not expecting your outburst. You watched as he swallowed your words. 

“Please,” you begged. “I can talk him down, let me try.”

Peter’s face twisted into anger before releasing a frustrated yell. He begins pacing while muttering curses under his breath. He raises his head, looking into your eyes once again, and you know you’ve won.

“Dammit!” He shouts, pointing an angry finger at you. “Fine! I will bring you down there, but you will not get close. You will stay far away from any action, and I can remove you at any time. Got it?”

You agree and he reluctantly secured you once again.

It didn't even look like a fair fight. The Goblin had a blade, of sorts, and you watch as it connected exactly once with Petey. He grunted, looking more pissed off than frightened. He landed a punch in the middle of The Goblin's face, and you felt your own nose twinge at the thought that that would have probably caved in your skull.

You watched as he threw the Goblin up over his head and the back down on his neck. He didn’t let up. The Goblin was brought to his knees and received blow after blow. Anytime he started to fall over, Petey would set him back up like it was just a punching bag and not a life he was slowly ending. Your stomach fell when you saw him going for the glider, holding it above his head, ready to give the final blow.

Peter must have read your mind, jumping in just in time to prevent Petey from letting his rage take control. They struggled for a minute, Petey trying to push down harder and Peter fixing him with a silent look.

“Petey, No!” You watched his body stiffen at the sound of your shaking voice. “Please, don’t do this.”

He makes no effort to turn around, and you understand it’s because he’s trying to protect you. From the monster or himself, you didn’t know.

“Get out of here, (Y/n); it’s not safe. Go back with the others.”

You shook your head, taking a tentative step forward that Peter really didn’t like.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not without you.”

Petey said nothing. His body looked tired, exhausted by all that was today. You watched as the grief and pain settled into his bones, and his shoulders sagged. There was caked dirt all over his face and a stream of mostly dried blood that made your stomach churn coming from his temple. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to see him the same as before. Not when you’ve seen his face like this. No smile or Hello Kitty bandaid could make you forget this. 

“Come on, Petey, let’s go home.”

It was more of a desperate plea than anything else. You didn’t really have a home anymore. Everything was gone. It was just you and Petey. But you didn’t care where “home” was, so long as Petey was there.

The spider-men locked eyes and there was a conversation there that only multiversal twins could have. You watched Petey’s face soften and his arms slowly relax, while Peter slowly nodded his head as if saying, “That’s right. Put it down. You don’t want to do this. Not really.”

You held out your hand, palm up towards the endless sky. With bated breath, you waited for Petey to turn around and take it. Instead, you received more of a tackle-hug. He hid his face in your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist.

The memory of your first hug came to mind. You had been going over to the Parker apartment almost every day to hang out with little Petey. Miss May and Mr Ben were excited to see Peter was no longer hiding under his bed and seemed to smile and laugh around you. This morning you came over with your backpack and lunchbox, ready for the first day of second grade. Your father knocked on the door for you, and Mr Ben was quick to open it.

“He’s hiding in his room; he doesn’t want to go. May’s trying to get him out from under the bed now.”

The man look tired, and his hair was wild from running his fingers through it. His shirt had wrinkles in it and what looked like a juice stain. 

“Do you wanna send in reinforcements?” Your father asked.

Mr Ben asked if you minded and you told him that you didn’t. “Petey’s my friend, I wanna help.”

You made your way up the stairs you knew well, humming the song your mom used to sing to you all the time. You learned very quickly that if you were happy, Petey would eventually be happy too. He just needed someone to show him how.

When you entered his room May was laying on her stomach talking to the shadows, “Come on Petey, it’s not all that bad. I promise you’ll have fun.”

You said hi, dropping off your stuff at the door. May greeted you with a hug, being sure to tell you that you looked beautiful today. You wiggled your finger, asking her to bend down so you could whisper in her ear.

“Can I talk to him alone?” you asked. 

She gave a soft smile, moving some hair out of your face before stepping out of the room. 

Once you heard her in the kitchen, you kneeled down, “Can I come in?”

You heard a soft “sí” and clambered in, tucking yourself next to him. 

The boy didn’t look at you, deciding that picking at the carpet was a much better use of his attention. 

“So..” You began, “You don’t want to go to school?”

Petey nodded his head.

“Why not?” you asked.

Peter seemed to mull over his answer for a bit. “May says that I’ll make friends and have fun. But I don’t think so.”

You nodded, understanding his feelings, remembering those same fears.

“What did she say?”

Peter slammed his hands down in frustration. “She says I’m a big boy, and I have to go!”

“You’re not a big boy!” You giggled. “You’re still little!”

Peter agreed with you, holding up five fingers to tell you he was only that many. You giggled again, crawling back out from under the bed and offering him your hand. He took it, slowly leaving his safety net.

“Petey,” you told him, “Little boys have to go to school too.”

You watched as his shoulders deflated and a pout took over his face.

“But, I’ll be there. And if you need anything, you or a teacher can come get me, okay?”

He looked at you sceptically, “Really?”

“Yeah!” you shouted, “We can have our parents tell them when we get there. And if you don’t make any new friends, you already have me, right?”

Peter began to smile, so you kept going, “Plus, school isn’t even hard for you yet. You just have to learn how to write your name and the alphabet. And you get nap time.”

Peter’s face lit up at that, “I get to take a nap?”

You nodded excitedly, “Uh-huh, every day!”

Peter stood to grab his favourite stuffed animal from his bed. It was a brown puppy with glass eyes and matted fur. It seems your pep talk was enough to get him out the door, but his anxiety returned once the walk was complete and you were both standing at the gates of Midtown Elementary. He hid behind May, hand still in hers. Before an adult could do anything, you were back to comforting your friend.

You let go of your father’s hand and held it out to Petey, “Come on, I’m right here.”

Petey hugged you instead, wrapping his pudgy arms around you. You hugged him back resting your chin on his head.

“Promise?” he asked

“Promise.”

You don’t hesitate to throw your arms around him now, holding him as close to you as you could. It’s true that Petey is the stronger one, but right now he needed to be weak, and he trusted you to hold him up.

You hear a pained shout and look to see Peter holding his side as the Goblin is trying his best to stand. 

“How sweet,” he says, voice dripping with condescension. “They’re just alike, your friend and your aunt. I wonder if her death would be just as impactful.”

“She was there because of you. And so is she,” he continued to taunt, looking at you with a sick grin twisting across his face. 

“I may have struck the blow,” he laughs out, “but you— you are the one that killed her. And your friend will die the same way. Can you live with that much blood on your hands?”

You feel your own body trembling with rage and come to the realization that he does, in fact, have a very punchable face. Before you can dwell on it much longer, you see Petey catch something you didn’t even see thrown. 

He rushes forward injecting the cure into his neck, and you watch as the Goblin collapses, hoping it worked. The old man's face scrunches into different emotions: anger, pain, confusion, and then finally, understanding.

“Peter?” He questions, and then his eyes fall on you. “Miss (Y/n)?”

You tear your gaze away from the man, unable to keep your burning hatred for The Green Goblin away from Norman Osborn. The man follows your stare to the other Spider-Man on the ground. He sees, like you, the way Peter's chest is rising and falling with difficulty. The way he’s clutching his side and doing his best to smile.

His voice wavered, coming out close to pathetic. “What have I done?”

Suddenly Pete lands on the platform, and you can’t take it anymore. You fall to your knees beside Peter and reach for one of his hands. You give it a slight squeeze while trying to look over the wound. He makes a sort of shushing noise in an attempt to calm you before saying the least comforting thing you've ever heard.

“I’m good, I’m good. I’ve been stabbed plenty of times.” 

Before you can freak out, the other Peters squat down next to you. Pete gives Petey a warm smile, something indicative of pride. 

“Good catch,” he says, giving Petey a pat on the back.

Petey smiles, a small one, but the first one you’ve seen in a while, “Good throw.”

Crackling fills the air, and you all look up to see purple craters in the sky.

“Woah, is that happening or am I dying?”

You were the only one to speak up- everyone else watching the multiverse fall apart.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s happening—that’s real—you’re not dying.”

He squeezed your hand a bit, muttering, “And the people too?”

You tell him, yes, and before you can ask Petey anything- he’s off. You watch as he makes his way up to the torch, where you can vaguely make out Steven floating high above. 

You let your eyes fall onto the water again. The sun had risen, and you couldn’t help but feel a little hopeful. The amber rays shone over the horizon, dancing across the waves like a flame, and you felt as if they were bringing in a new beginning with them. It was so close to over.

Pete helps Peter to his feet because he insists that he’ll be fine. You take a breath, letting your body express its discomfort. When you turn away from the fallen rubble in front of you, Peter is casting you a winning smile. He pats Pete on the shoulder before standing on his own and taking a few hobbled steps towards you. 

“So this is it,” he says barely above the waves. 

You drop your head, scuffing your shoe against the ground. “Yeah, I guess so.”

You both fought to keep your smiles intact, not wanting to make this moment any sadder than it had to be. 

“So, you ready to get back home?”

Peter let out a dry chuckle, “I guess so, but it’s gonna be hard not to think about all the other homes and people I’m leaving behind.”

“Yeah,” you agree, “you’re gonna be pretty hard to forget. Think you can manage without me?”

It was only partly a joke. You were very worried about the man in front of you. But you refused to admit that your feelings were for any other reason than he was a different version of someone you loved. Your attachment wasn’t to him, just the concept of him. 

“I’ll manage.”

You felt your eyes wet again, and this time you hugged him. You laid your face against his chest, listening to his heart drumming underneath his rib cage. You brought your arms around his waist, bathing in the warmth he emitted. It felt like home. He gave you a squeeze before leaning away but not letting go. His eyes darted around your face as if trying to memorise it.

“Hey, take this,” he removes one of his web shooters from his wrist and hands it to you. “Something to remember me by.”

Suddenly Petey lands back on the shield. It shakes a little from the impact, and Peter steadies you before walking over to the other Spider-Men.

Petey addresses his comrades, telling them, “I think this is it. I think you’re about to go home,” before rambling and stumbling over his words, trying to thank them.

You look up at the breaking sky, figures coming closer and closer to the edge.

Petey hugs his newfound brothers and you feel a tug at your heart. He’s not alone in the universe. There are people who get it in ways that you never could. You hope that his coming days feel a bit brighter with the knowledge.

“I guess I’ll see ya…” he says, a little unsure. 

Then he turns to see you. He rushes into your arms, and you hold him close. 

“So it’s over now?” You ask, your exhaustion a little more evident now that the adrenaline has left your system.

Petey nods his head silently, readjusting his hold on you. When he bumps your arm, you wince. He looks down at the disgusting rag covering up a wound from the battle-his battle-that he dragged you into. 

“(Y/n), I have to tell you something.”

You give him your undivided attention while he struggles to meet your gaze.

“You have to know it’s the only way.”

You felt like you could throw up, “What is it? What did you do?”

“You’re gonna forget who I am.”

You freeze for a moment, connecting the dots slowly but surely. Peter searches your eyes, but all you give him is a blank expression. 

“Eres jodidamente ‘stúpido? No. No. No estás haciendo eso. No me vas a dejar.”

Petey expected your anger and tried to mitigate it, “(Y/n)- (Y/n), calm down. I know you’re upset-”

“Upset? Upset?” You scoffed, “Tienes toda la razón, estoy upset. Esto es locura, es demente.”

“It’s the only way.”

Petey expected you to yell more-to scream-but instead, you began to cry. Petey could count on one hand the number of times he’s seen you cry, and two of those times were over ice cream when you were particularly hormonal. It terrified him to see you like this-so defeated-and all because of him. 

“You promised,” you whispered.

His heart shattered “Hermana-”

The nickname sent you back into a rage, one filled with tears and shaky breath.

“You said you weren’t going anywhere. You promised!”

Petey’s jaw tightened, the muscle flexing around his cuts. “I’m sorry.”

You knew you had lost, so you hugged him, like it was the last time. After a few moments, you gathered yourself, wiping your eyes.

“Go say goodbye to your friends.”

Peter thanked you and turned to walk away, but just before he did he looked back at you. You looked at the man who was once a boy, once yours to protect, and he smiled. 

“Thanks sis, I love you.”

He became smaller and smaller as he flew away. Your mind was spinning. You refused to accept this. Peter hadn’t consulted you before when he cast the spell and everything had fallen apart. Maybe this time you could do something—anything—to save him.

You look up to see Dr Strange. I’m not letting this happen. You haphazardly climb up the scaffolding with the help of your web shooter. The Peters below shout at you to both come back and be careful, but you ignore them.

The metal is cold and slippery to the touch as you make your way up to the torch.

“Steven Strange!”

He looks around for a moment and all but rolls his eyes when he sees you, “I’m focusing here-”

“Yeah, on the entirely wrong thing. I get you have to save the multiverse, but is destroying everything Peter has the answer?”

The man lets out a sigh that tells you he’s earned all the white hairs in his salt and pepper hair.

“Look, I’m not any more happy about it than you are.”

You want to throttle him for his resignation to the situation.

“I’ll do anything.” You plead, “Literally anything, just don’t do this.”

He looks back down at you, and you can see there are tears in his eyes too. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“Make everyone forget Spider-Man!” You shout, “You can build up Spider-Man again, but you can’t just erase Peter Parker.”

“I thought of that; it won’t work. They're all here for Peter, not his alter ego.”

You look up at the spluttering sky, at all the faces waiting to pour through. They’re here for Peter, and you can’t save him. You refuse to give up, feeling a resolve in your stubbornness.

“Okay, cast the spell-fine-but cast another. Leave me something, so I can find him. Because I know he won’t find me. He’s got too much of a hero complex.”

Stephen let’s put a sarcastic laugh, “And you don’t?”

“Please, Strange.” You plead again, like how you plead to a god that didn’t care that your mother was sick all those years ago. “He’ll die on his own. You don’t know him like I do. Please, I can’t lose him.”

He looks at you and you see him break. He lets out an angry growl as the threw out his arms, the band in the sky dispelling and cracking over the distance.

“Give me your hands. Quickly we don’t have much time!”

You extended them out to him as he placed his pointer and ring fingers on the pulse point on your wrist. As he chants a sigil appears there, shining gold swimming on your skin. 

He releases you and you take a second to feel around your body. You don’t feel any different. 

“Find me later, now GO!”

His arms wave with precise direction and you settle with whatever it is he did. You scale back down the scaffolding and find Petey saying goodbye to his friends. He hops up on a platform, taking one last look at the life he’s leaving behind and gives you a smile. You can see the tears in his eyes and you know then that you will find him again if it’s the last thing you do. 

I am slowly but surely emerging from my hovel. Sorry, It's been so long <3

Taglist: @actuallypeterparker, @alexa4040, @andrews-lovr, @barbecuetiddy, @cherriescherriesred25, @heejinw0rld, @ilovemoonknight, @Isshecrazyorissheclever, @hafsa-hoofsa-heefs, @negasonic-teenage-asshole, @preciousbabypeter, @princesskittycatofmeowland, @purple-amaranthe, @raajali3, @rudy-the-winged-wolf, @scorpiolystoned, @tayswiftlovebot, @wannapizzamymindposts, @whoreforklitz,

[teine-mallaichte]

"Do you trust me?"

Day 5 @whumpuary

Set a few years before the escape during the At The Top timeline. Paul finds Ash injured in a corridor and tries to get him back to his quaters.

Complex 27 masterlist Whumpary 2025 list

The storage room was suffocatingly dark, the flicker of a dim, overhead bulb casting jagged shadows across the walls. It was one of the rare places in the Facility without cameras—a sliver of privacy in a world where every action, every breath, was scrutinised. That privacy was the only reason Paul had dragged them here. The last thing he needed was for this to end up on Sergeant Fisher’s radar—or worse, Kerr’s.

Ash was slumped in the corner, his back pressed against the cold, metal wall. His chest rose and fell in uneven, shallow breaths, each one a rattling effort. His wrists, raw and bloody from restraints, rested limply in his lap, fingers twitching every so often. The acrid tang of blood lingered in the air, mixing with the sterile scent of antiseptic and metal.

Paul crouched down in front of him, close enough to see the faint tremors wracking Ash’s battered frame, close enough to hear the wheeze in his breathing. But what unsettled Paul most wasn’t Ash’s injuries—it was his eyes. Dark, glassy, unfocused, but still holding onto the faintest flicker of defiance, a glimmer so faint it was almost gone.

“You need to get up,” Paul said quietly, his voice almost pleading. He wasn’t sure if Ash could even hear him, but he kept going. “I can’t carry you back. It's against protocol. Dragging you this far was risky enough.”

Ash didn’t respond. His head lolled to the side, his lips cracked and parted slightly, but no words came. His stillness made Paul’s stomach tighten into a knot. He reached out, hesitating for a moment before lightly gripping Ash’s shoulder. The contact was gentle, cautious, but Ash jerked back violently as if Paul’s hand had burned him.

“Why… why are you doing this?” Ash rasped, his voice raw and cracked. He shifted slightly, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated.

Paul froze, his hand hovering mid-air. “What?”

“You should’ve left me,” Ash muttered, his words slurred and barely audible. His head tipped forward, dark strands of sweat-dampened hair falling over his eyes. “I’m not worth the risk.”

Paul’s jaw tightened. The resignation in Ash’s voice hit him like a physical blow. “Don’t say that,” he snapped, harsher than he intended. “You don’t get to decide that.”

Ash let out a bitter, broken laugh that grated against Paul’s nerves. “I don’t get to decide anything, remember?” His gaze drifted upward, unfocused, his voice soft and far away. “That’s the whole point. We don’t decide. They do.”

Paul swallowed hard, forcing down the lump in his throat. He leaned closer, his voice low and urgent. “Ash, listen to me. I get it. I know you’re hurting. But we don’t have time for this right now. You can hate me later, you can tell me I’m wrong later, but right now, you have to trust me.”

Ash’s eyes flickered, his gaze finally meeting Paul’s for a fleeting moment. There was something in them—doubt, exhaustion, maybe even hope. His lips twitched like he wanted to say something, but instead, he slumped further against the wall, his body.

“Do you trust me?” Paul asked, his voice quieter now, steadier. The question hung heavy in the air, its weight pressing down on both of them.

Ash hesitated. His gaze drifted away, staring at the flickering light overhead. When he finally spoke, his voice was a barely audible whisper, fragile and raw. “I don’t know.”

Paul exhaled, his grip tightening around Ash’s shoulder. “Good enough.”

He slid an arm under Ash’s shoulders, bracing himself as he lifted. Ash let out a sharp, guttural gasp, his face contorting in pain. Paul gritted his teeth, steadying them both as Ash’s weight pressed against him. “Sorry,” he muttered. The word felt inadequate.

Ash’s cracked lips curled into a faint, bitter smile. “You… apologising? Must be bad.”

Paul shook his head, adjusting his grip as he hauled Ash upright. “It’s not funny.”

“Kinda is,” Ash rasped, his voice weaker now.

Paul shook his head, biting back a retort. Ash groaned, the sound raw and guttural, as Paul eased him to his feet. It wasn’t graceful; Ash’s legs buckled almost immediately, and Paul had to brace them both against the wall to keep them upright. “Goddammit, Ash,” Paul muttered through clenched teeth, his muscles straining under the weight. Ash wasn’t heavy, not really—too thin, too gaunt—but the dead weight of exhaustion made every movement a struggle. “You’re supposed to help me here.” he adjusted his grip, one arm hooked tightly around Ash’s waist while the other supported his arm slung over his shoulder. Every slight shift made Ash hiss in pain, his breathing shallow and ragged.

“You’re… the one who wanted to drag a corpse around,” Ash mumbled, the faintest trace of sarcasm threading through his words.

“You’re not a corpse,” Paul snapped, the words harsher than he intended. He clenched his jaw, steadying Ash as they stumbled toward the door.

The hallway outside was dim and eerily quiet. Paul peeked around the corner, scanning for any sign of movement. Empty. Good. He tightened his grip on Ash, dragging him forward with slow, measured steps.

“Almost there,” Paul muttered, more to himself than to Ash. His muscles ached, his arms trembling under the strain. Ash groaned softly, his head lolling against Paul’s shoulder. “We’ll get you back to your quarters, and then… I don’t know, you can rest. Or pass out. Whatever works.”

“You’re really… bad at pep talks,” Ash murmured.

“Yeah, well, excuse me if I didn’t have time to rehearse,” Paul shot back, his tone sharper than he intended. He adjusted his grip again, ignoring the way his hands trembled as they neared the door to Ash’s quarters.

Finally, they reached the control panel. “You still with me?” Paul asked, his voice low but insistent.

Ash’s eyelids fluttered, his head tilting slightly toward Paul. “Define… ‘with,’” he murmured.

Paul let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head as he muttered, "I’ll take that as a yes." he leaned Ash against the wall, his fingers fumbling with the override code. The door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing the stark, sterile interior of Ash’s room. Paul dragged him inside, his chest heaving with exertion.

Almost as soon as they crossed the threshold, Ash’s legs gave out completely. “Damn it,” Paul grunted as he caught him, dragging him over to the narrow cot in the corner.

Paul stood there for a moment, his hands on his knees, catching his breath. The adrenaline that had kept him going began to fade, leaving behind a hollow ache in his chest. He glanced down at Ash, whose eyes were half-closed, his breathing still uneven but steady. “Alright,” Paul muttered, his voice rough. “You’re here. That’s step one.”

Ash didn’t respond. His body sagged against the mattress, his eyes fluttering shut. For a moment, Paul thought he’d passed out. He turned to leave, but a faint whisper stopped him in his tracks.

“Paul…”

He turned back, his brow furrowing. “What?”

Ash’s lips twitched, forming words that were barely audible. “Thanks.”

Paul blinked, his chest tightening. He hesitated, his hand lingering on the doorframe. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Don’t mention it.”