#stupid fish gets surprised by a bug

[moth-party]

Elden Ring Message Board: Could this be Bug?

[ntls-24722]

Ah, my favorite part of speculative biology... the flying Thingmajigs!!!

Instead of domesticating wolves, the Music Men's best friend is birds. "Cloes," specifically. Many of them are insectivores because they're an alliance over their crops (music men get their crops free of pests, cloes get snacking) but they do have "raptors" that help them locate and catch prey and game that I should also design.

The Debu have domesticated the Homo Mousike equivalent of bats. Nocturnal, communal, cavedwelling cloes that even sleep upside-down! Though that last part isn't special, most cloes sleep/roost upside-down - have slight prongs on the ends of their muscular tails to help them hook on to a branch they're hanging on.

Originally they were the pests but now they keep pests out, not just bugs but any small animal. They're also communal much like most domesticated cloes, and by mimicking their calls you can command an entire flock, which is an especially potent ability when the only thing stopping these guys from going after bigger prey is numbers.

The gap between their front and back teeth are especially large so they can have a gap for Grip. They use their long middle finger to stab insects.

The Zebraelves have their insectivores, but they actually have clohe mounts! Diving, powerful flyers the size of our storks that they ride. They're not as communal as most domesticated clohes, and they sleep/roost on the ground, unlike most cloes. They actually can use their tail like a fish's, and swim like one beneath the water.

They're almost a bit too water friendly, and oftentimes, if you fly over water with them, there's a half chance they'll dive for a snack... It's best to keep them extra-fed but there's no cure for impulsivity.

Behold... the cloe equivalent to a crusty white dog. This one is a basic clohe domesticated for the purpose of keeping pests off your garden but the wealthy have begun breeding fancier cloes from the already curly-furred, cute, insectivores in nature.

Wouldn't be a true "dog" without the unethical breeding for cuteness

They have a version of fetch (aka some game universally played with cloes) where they toss them up in the air and let them glide/fly down into their hands. Once they industrialize/modernize I imagine cloe movies will have someone reluctantly adopt a cloe after literally tossing it away and having it fly right back over and over.

That one picture of the zebraelf holding her laughter in inspired me to make these 3 characters - these 2 mailmen who ride their cloes to far-out cities and deliver things and their kinda uptight boss who always catches them on stupid tomfoolery. Mordecai, Rigby, and Benson dynamic.

They actually do know Sindeer, Rinkalla, and Lepit, but the first one (fanny pack, "Mauli") is seen as a treat to have in the house and the 2nd one (mohawk, "Pua") is seen as a PEST by specifically Sindeer because she caught her stealing from her farm Only Once

Also, Rinkalla's petroglyphs.

The first one is set mostly in the past. shows the nigh-falling out between Sindeer and Lepit that led them searching for someone new, Lepit making his seperate burrow now that Rinkalla is there to sleep beside Sindeer, something she made to comfort Sindeer on her infertility woes, and Rinkalla offering Lepit a razor to shave off his back fur, alongside making fur extensions from them. Surprise! i forgot to mention that in their introduction post but Rinkalla and Lepit are trans and they have a sick trade deal

This one is mainly set in the now with just very domestic scenes for the most part of Rinkalla offering Sindeer handmade blades, Lepit caring for her when she got stupid sick, but that one gruesome, blood-covered scene was how this series of skirmishes with a group of Zebraelves ended, where a group of exiled, unwillingly nomadic raiders were attempting to drive the 3 out from their homes so they could take it. The first time Lepit got stabbed badly when they came, they got away and stole a big chunk of their food, but the 2nd time, Sindeer literally picked up one of them, chucked them into the air, and called their cloes to feast on the fucker midair.

That ended that issue very quickly! It was the scariest thing Rinkalla had ever seen and she commemorated it

[hannahhook7744]

Random dialogue prompts;

"HOW DO YOU NOT MENTION THAT YOU DIED?!"

"(insert name), You lying bastard!"

"Oh shit, that's the worst way to find out."

"Wait, did I not tell you guys about that? Oops.."

"STAY OUT OF THE KITCHEN!"

"(insert name) WHERE are your glasses?"

"WHY are you surprised?! It's me!"

"Congratulations, you're fucked!"

"From not so humble beginnings—"

"People suck, stupid."

"Don't drink, (blank) tap water!"

"No, no! Don't eat the crayons!"

"Oh, fish paste!"

"What are we gonna do?!"

"The only thing we can do to get out of this mess: wipe his memories or kill him—"

"(INSERT NAME)!"

"Kidding, kidding."

*claps hands* you just made my best friend cry, do-da, do da! *Claps hands* now you got to die, do-da! Do-da *punches someone*

"Don't make me get the hose!"

"Granny, who's the goth bitch and the dummy in that picture with Santa on the fireplace?"

"Oh that's me and your 'great uncle' (Blank). Ah, good times. I think we were 20 in that photo."

"ALRIGHT, WHO RAIDED MY SNACK STASH!"

"I swear if you've been hiding a bullet wound this entire conversation I'm going to lose it—"

"You're out of the will."

"Let's review, shall we—"

"It's still bugging me, man."

"You stole an ice cream truck?"

"I stole an ice cream truck."

"..."

"Remember, if we get caught: I'm deaf, your blind, __ doesn't speak English, and ___ has amnesia."

"I knew you had bad taste when it came to dating but this—"

*gestures at a LONG list of questionable people*

"—is a new low, even for you."

"You've been here the entire, yes?"

"Yes, __."

"No one's been in or out of this room."

"Yes."

"Then do you mind explaining WHERE THE HELL THE __ IS?"

“Nobody needs your shit, (insert name). That’s why you’re always alone.”

[booze-hats]

Job Interview

"I thought you hated everything."

The words kept echoing through Spades Slick's head. I thought you hated everything. He didn't hate the whiskey sour in front of him and he didn't hate the table in front of the booth he liked to sit at, even if he hated the cushion he'd singlehandedly worn down since the last time he remodeled the club. He didn't hate the club, either. He didn't know if he hated the guy on the other cushion, though. He did hate that it was probably more comfortable to sit on the other side, sure, but that had nothing to do with his complicated feelings surrounding Problem Sleuth.

A hand crossed his vision and Slick looked up. "Hey, Earth to Spades, buddy. Can you hear me over there? I said I thought you hated everything."

Slick scowled at the hand, batting at it angrily. "I don't hate everything. How the hell would you know what I'm in the business of hating anyway?"

"I don't. I'm just getting my ducks in a row." The detective flashed one of those award-winning shit-eating grins in Slick's direction. He could've stabbed the stupid son of a bitch over it, too. Instead of reaching for the knife in his pocket, though, he picked up his drink and shook his head. And Sleuth, ever-aware, mirrored the motion strategically, at least, that what Slick thought. Lawmen did it to him before, acting all natural and coping comfortable gestures for the sake of rapport and intel. "Figuring out the business you wanted with me. Usually you're not telling me to sit down."

"Yeah, well, some fish ain't big enough for me to fry, I figure if rumors're true and you're lookin' for a job, you can finally do something useful in this city."

As expected, that knocked the smarmy look off the bastard's face. It fell kind of slowly and a light left his eyes, which cut across the bar. It made Slick tilt his head and raise his eyebrows in fascination. He'd seen it a thousand times before, but this time, it was interesting. Sleuth paused for a second before getting his next line out.

"Didn't know it was a rumor." "Mhm."

For maybe a solid ninety seconds, the affirmative hum hung in the air between them. It felt like Slick waited, and waited, and kept waiting for the guy to say anything. He could ponder the public state of his finances all he wanted, he wasn't going to make any more money sitting there looking stupid. If Sleuth wanted to waste time looking stupid, he could, at least until the end of his ninety seconds, when Slick got bored of waiting. That's how it usually went, anyway. He didn't usually study the guy's facial expressions either, though.

Slick sighed dramatically after a hundred seconds this go around, reaching across the table. He patted Sleuth on the face condescendingly, a little too rough. The detective pulled away from his hand, looking... Surprised. Slick was surprised to see him look surprised. It was better than when he looked all snarky, with those stupid green eyes blown all wide, it was almost funny. Sleuth cleared his throat. "What was that?"

"Makin' sure you was still with me. You want the job or not?" "What's the job?"

That's what Slick hoped to hear. He sat back against his booth, digging in his pockets before sliding a folding and crumpled piece of paper across the table. Sleuth wasted no time in opening it up and examining the contents. The map was crudely drawn and the handwriting was barely legible, exactly what was expected of the esteemed Spades Slick, but it was certainly a map. He's able to discern the docks and identify a few labels on the warehouses, which Sleuth determined, was probably sufficient. One of those warehouses were marked, distinguished from the others by a star drawn across it.

"I got a bug problem." "A bug problem?" "Mhm. Infestation. Sons of bitches won't get outta my fuckin' warehouse."

Sleuth looked at the map incredulously, then back at Slick. "I wear a lot of hats, Spades, but uh, I'm not an exterminator. I've fixed roach infestations in my own apartment but-"

"Not... Literally, fuckin' twit." "Then I'm going to need you to clarify what, exactly, you expect me to do here." "I was gettin' there before you started talkin' about hats. I want you to go clear 'em out. Spook 'em. Make 'em think the law's on their asses. Just run 'em out, ring the number on the back, and you're done. Easy work."

Sleuth sighed, looking back at the map in front of him. He'd lived in Midnight City for some years now, he'd worked briefly on the city's police force, and for more than that, he'd been chasing down Spades Slick. If he knew anything, he knew that there was no such thing as easy work in Midnight City, and Slick certainly didn't have a habit of sharing the easy parts of work with anyone but himself. He flipped the page to look at the phone number before looking back at the mobster in front of him and weighing his options.

"Fine."

Slick reached out for a handshake and Sleuth returned it, folding the paper and sliding it into his pocket. "Great. I'll be waitin'."

Sleuth stood up. "Mhm."

==>

[claidi]

I'm starting to get the writing bug and I was going through my unfinished fragments on my phone and found a Bleach x TWEWY crossover. The problem is I have no idea where I'd move it forward lol. I think back when I originally wrote on it I was just jotting down a few scenes without a strong concept of where they'd go.

Anyways, I figure I'll put what I have under a read more. At least it'll be out there in the world instead of rotting among my assorted ideas. I might continue it / rework it into something real someday because I do like some of these scenes... I just need to figure out the story they go in lol

Wooden geta clicked across the cafe floor, catching Hanekoma's attention away from his phone. Although he usually didn't mind catering to the rare customer who wandered in, this man had certainly picked an inconvenient time to make an entrance. Joshua's current Game was becoming a pain. A couple of the Players seemed to have friends in interesting places. Hanekoma's investigations into who the various empowered souls which had shown up was still underway but keeping them separated from the game was starting to wear on him.

He looked up at the approaching man and put in his customer facing smile. The first thing he noticed about the man was his white and green striped hat pulled down low on his face. He was not a Shibuya native, he lacked any of the familiar trends that made up the city. An odd stranger.

"Welcome in. What'll it be?" Hanekoma defaulted to normal behind the counter talk as he considered how suspicious he should be of this random man. While his job may be upping his paranoia, his instincts bristled at the shadowed face. 

"Hello! I supposed I'll have that thing." He pointed loosely with the tip of his cane. "Or wait, maybe that one." His voice was annoying chipper as he proceeded to change his mind three more times before proclaiming, "oh I know, why doncha surprise me with something sweet."

The man was trying to be deliberately irritating. That never boded well.

"And a name?" Hanekoma drawled, deciding it was a good excuse to fish for some more information. 

The stranger smirked and pulled out a paper fan, further obscuring his face.

"Kurosaki." A sudden pressure filled the room, a physical feeling rather than a Sound. "I'd say that's the name of the day."

"Not your name?" Hanekoma rubbed at his temples, already knowing the answer. Kurosaki was the name of the headache Joshua had dragged into the game. Coincidences didn't happen in Shibuya.

The man tilted his chin up, exposing his eyes to the light. His gaze was piercing, taking in every little detail. Whatever he knew, Hanekoma could not bring himself to guess.

"Where is his soul?"

"Can you wait for me to finish making your coffee before the interrogation?" He sighed, not looking forward to this absolute train wreck. When the man frowned Hanekoma slipped a little of his power into a frequency most humans could notice. "I'm more helpful with paying customers."

Rather than being wise enough to even fake being intimidated, the man looked interested. He slapped some coins on the counter with a savage grin and then seemed to poke at the remnants left from Hanekoma's show of power. 

…

Ichigo had been attacked more times than he cared to remember. He'd been stabbed and slashed and hit by ceros. So, it was no surprise that when the blond kid started running at him that he'd instinctively dodged. His mind went blank as he reacted, sidestepping into the Shibuya alley. 

The first thing he registered about the kid was the smirk. The look in his eyes sent shivers down Ichigo's spine. There was something wrong with this guy.

The second thing Ichigo noticed was the sound of an explosion. A bang like a sound effect in a movie.

Then, as he fell down to lay on the concrete he realized how stupid he was. The blond guy peered down at him, his gun tilted low and aimed at Ichigo's forehead. The chest wound apparently wasn't good enough for the creep.

"You shot me!"

"Stating the obvious, aren't you?"

Ichigo groaned and pressed a hand to the bullet hole. He missed his spiritual body. He was bleeding out quickly and while he'd been through worse, Orihime was back in Karakura. He knew enough about medicine to know he needed a doctor soon if he wanted to make it out of this still breathing.

Meanwhile, the punk still had a gun trained on him and a finger on the trigger.

Well, Ichigo was nothing if not determined. He kicked out, trying to trip his assailant. If he could just grapple him then Ichigo knew he could get the gun. While this kid seemed around his age he was scrawny and as far as Ichigo knew, had never taken on the whole of Soul Society with a few friends and a cat. The pain of moving was nothing compared to what the Espada had put him through. He wasn't about to let some random human take him out on his vacation.

The kid tripped but instead of eating pavement he almost seemed to appear a couple feet away, completely unruffled. Ichigo grit his teeth and tried to pull himself to his feet. This wasn't a normal human, was it? While he couldn't feel spiritual pressure anymore, the Final Getsuga hadn't taken away his ability to put two and two together. It'd just taken most everything else. Normal humans couldn't seemingly teleport (or use flash step?).

The blood loss made him shake and moving just made him bleed faster. Getting up was going to be a bad idea. But laying down to die was even worse.

"Who are you, you little creep?"

"Hee hee."

Ichigo could feel himself start growing cold. The blood loss was making him feel lightheaded. It was growing increasingly likely he wasn't walking away from this alive. At least death wasn't the end.

“I'm going to haunt you.” He swore as he fell to his knees. 

“Oh, I'm counting on it.”

"Normally the price to play the Reaper's Game is whatever is most important to you. However, you've already thrown that away yourself- the strength to protect was no longer in your soul. You've already been living without it."

Ichigo wondered if he'd still believe that if he strangled the man.

"So what's left? Your sisters?"

Ichigo took a step forward, ready to test his theory. The man shook his head and kept talking.

"I could take your memory of them but honestly that's boring. Players who've forgotten their entry fee can be entertaining every once in a while but you'd be lame. I want you to know the cost you're playing with, man."

"Why would I ever want to play your stupid game?"

"Would you rather give up and choose Erasure?"

"If you and your boss know anything about me, you'd know I'd never accept that without a fight." Ichigo wished he had a weapon but he'd make due with his fists.

"

….

Kisuke may have misplaced a certain Ichigo Kurosaki. When he admitted this to Yoruichi she shook her head.

"That makes him sound like a tool you put down somewhere."

Kisuke considered this. Perhaps his phrasing was too blunt. He tried again.

"Ichigo took a trip to Shibuya. Some unknown party shot him and now his soul is nowhere to be found."

"He's dead?"

That made Kisuke hesitate. He tilted his hand in a so-so motion before Yoruichi could get too worked up. He had considered waiting to tell her after he'd found out more over his investigation but she'd notice when he stopped working on the sword to give Ichigo his powers back. He'd have to possibly revise that now.

"While that would be the logical conclusion, I have evidence otherwise. It seems that despite his body being found, nothing has left Shibuya." He continued after Yoruichi raised an eyebrow. "I have found cases of humans, usually teenagers, dying in Shibuya. They are pronounced dead but none of the paperwork ever leaves until the week is up. The body isn't put to rest, the grieving family doesn't share the news to anyone outside Shibuya, nothing. It's like everyone forgets they're dead when they leave the district's limits."

"While odd, what does that mean for Ichigo?"

"Well," and here is where Kisuke had been obsessing for the last two hours. His monitoring of Ichigo may have been sporadic at this point but he'd never stopped. Plus, with as vulnerable as he was without his powers it was an emergency measure for his safety. After being alerted to Ichigo's body no longer breathing he'd anticipated a call from Ishin within the hour. He'd watched the procedures taken by first responders remotely with a detached interest until key abnormalities sparked his clever mind. "It took some digging but when this happens at least one of these corpses starts walking around again by the end of the week."

"Don't make this sound like a zombie movie. Is something possessing the bodies?" Yoruichi tapped on her cheek, no doubt going through believable possibilities like Kisuke had. Experimental mod souls or a hollow's strange power has been the first of his list that he'd eliminated.

"According to all the data that I can find, the human returns to life. Everyone forgets they were ever dead." 

"That sounds unlikely."

"Oh, I thought so too. It's too miraculous." He shrugged and shook his head. "Or rather, it's too perfect."

He took a step and found himself pacing. Yoruichi narrowed her eyes and waited. While she was in her human form, he could easily imagine her tail twitching back and forth.

"There's something in Shibuya that has enough power to keep the deaths contained to Shibuya. It appears that this is so the lucky individual who somehow returns to the living can go back to their lives without any fuss. Suddenly, they're alive and everyone in Shibuya forgets they were ever dead. Official documents over the deceased seem to be filed away like the body identification was a mistake."

"You think that Ichigo could come back."

"Something like that." Kisuke waved her over to his computer and showed her some Seireitei statistics that had been dubiously gathered. "None of the souls whose deaths are concealed ever go to the Soul Society."

Is something gathering souls? Eating them? Or are the dead not truly killed until the one is sent back? It would be a lot easier to feign death than to truly resurrect the dead. 

Yoruichi placed a grounding hand on his shoulder. Huh, he must have been in his thoughts longer than intended. She met his gaze.

"What are we doing about it?" She asked and Kisuke grinned. This is why they worked so well together.

"Oh, I have a few ideas…"

[saltykidcreation]

4. Definitely Not Coincidence

The turtles notice that the girls or mermaids infront of them have had fin like ears, long hair that covered their chest but they still can glimpse of that bra made of scales, fin side arms, they wearing jewelry that made from she'll, pearl and coral, their tail are long and big, they had scales not just on their tail but also about part their body, and what more made it surprised that the had transparency wings likes butterfly or bug that that looks like made from crystal, and their eyes blue-green.

"Well ladies we in mission to find clue of murdered chance" answered leo. Adriana looks leo with amused.

"In ocean and island of nowhere? "

Then Donatello and leo more detail why they on this island after that mermaods frozen and looks each other then huddled in circle and little move away to getting private conversation.

"It's coincidence right? " asked Kendall.

"If we talking about fact, yes. But also the algorithm is in front of us and since when there's coincidence in our world or more fact there's no such things as coincidence if we talking .."

"Yeah, yeah we get it, Adriana. So what do you think vanora? " asked Kendall. Three mermaid look at blue tail mermaid.

"It make sense though, also we need seeing with own eyes. We help them go back to new York" the rest mermaid nods. Them they came close to the turtles.

"We will help you go back to new York and help with your case" said vanorq. That make four brothers shocks.

"Why? " asked Raphael with suspected

"Well from you told us we a have calculations that it's definitely a merfolk doing and... There's a wanted merfolk that escale from jail she been gone for like a month and well as sound like coincidence it make sense that she will go to surface but it's kind stupid attacks surface while being hunting. So we get two bird with one stone" said vanora.

"Look I am not trying not to great full but humans make ocean filthy and why you want help them? " asked donatello

"Look that may true and yes, some merfolk seek revenge but some like us no want hurting innocent humans, well unless we they guilty and evil" said Kendall.

"So do we have a deal" asked vanora as she offered her hand to leo . Leo looks vanora hand hand shaking it.

"Deal".

"By the way, Michelangelo. I am sorry I am screaming to you. You definitely thinking I scream because I scare with you well I meant after I know you can speak English. When first screaming it was because I thought you were a kappa " said beryl she look shame.

"It's okey, you not first time like that but what is kappa? " aksed mikey

"It's some mystical creature from Japanese that have Shell like turtle and well I have bad memory " beryl shudders and Adriana just stroking her hair. Mikey pouting with sadness.

Mermaids gaves turtles fishs that save it eating raw and seaweeds to them because turtles not eating since yesterday.

"Well let's us showing where you can get woods to make a boat" said vanora then she and others mermaid got out from water. Kendall use her power to made her and others mermaid got drying fash.

The turtles immediately covered their eyes (even mikey. He and Donnie still have decency ), it was not because the mermaids had legs and look more human but the fact they were naked.

"Why are you naked? " asked Donnie.

"Well we never wearing clothes in first place all just scales ,so when we have legs a d look more human we not wearing anything" reply Adriana.

"Can you put something first ?" Asked leo. The mermaids made seaweed as their dress, now they decent. But there's one problem four mermaids not really can walking they like one year old baby that trying lear to walks.

They reasoned that they had wings so not really need legs on surface, so they not learn how to walking and they reason they not use wings to help turtle find wood it was because no want to invited animals with they colourful fin. The turtles forced to carrying the mermiads and will teach tge mermaid how to walking.

[phantom-does-a-thing]

ik the fic was about jay but I can't stop thinking of Gil with the armour on, he's so stupid and he'd totally do that, god it's probably burning hot, someone slap some sense into this selfless fishhh

Gill, a fish that doesn’t sweat or have really any mechanic designed to cool himself down bc he’s a fish, wearing full plate armor while walking in high heat. Surprised he’s the one that didn’t almost pass out. He’s stupid like that they had to goad him into takin his armor off before he fainted from heat exhaustion.

But also another funny thing is that Chip was literally shirtless and Jay was the one getting bit up by bugs. He was FINE. But that does also bring up an interesting issue of what might’ve happened if Chip or maybe Chip AND Gillion also got bit/stung lol. It wouldn’t make much of a fic but it would be an oopsie.

[thepixelelf]

thepixelelf’s recycling bin

📁 like clay in the hand.doc

Details: Golden Child Jangjun; demon/monster hunter au; unfinished; 2.3k; last opened aug 2021

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Warnings: strong language, graphic descriptions of death (blood, penetrative injury, post-mortem details, etc.) a kind of gross scene involving a dead body

You spend most of your time on bridges. It’s sort of your thing.

Tonight, you sit on the edge of an old bridge above a mostly-drained stream, the wood all moss-ridden and rotten. A small bottle of black nail polish rests snug between your pinky and ring fingers while you paint the nails of one hand, the light of the moon your only guide. You’re not doing an awful job -- you’ve definitely gotten steadier hands over the years. The bubbling of the stream keeps you company like music along with the various bugs in the forest whose names you never bothered to learn. What’s nice about nights like these is the peaceful non-quietness of everything. Even the sharp, biting smell of the nail polish can’t bother you.

Until you tip forward. Time and space warp around you in dizzying circles, and you lose grip of the nail polish bottle somewhere along the way. Your bridge disappears, and suddenly you’re thrown to your hands and knees in the middle of some intersection god knows where. The hell? Since when did you get summoned to crossroads?

The moon still hangs high in the sky, and there aren’t any cars around. The only thing that is around would be the guy crouched on the grass where road meets dirt. Sobs rack from his chest, loud and disruptive in the otherwise silent air. His hands fist the grass beneath him while he cries, and a metal box sits just in front of him. With jet black hair, his head reflects the moonlight, giving him a bit of a halo effect. Ironic, to look like an angel when you’re the one here.

You approach him, not taking any measures to stay quiet, but he doesn’t notice you anyways.

“Hey.”

Metal clanks when you tap your boot against the box. The man jolts, and his neck will probably be sore from how fast he looks up at you. He falls back on his hands, scooting backwards a foot or so in surprise. The shaky breaths don’t stop, but he sniffs and wipes away at his face as he stands, trying to gather himself in front of you.

Almost crossing your arms, you stop when you remember your half-painted nails. You take a look at your hand and groan at the black smear across your finger that must’ve been a result of the warp. “Damn it...”

He sniffles again, looking down in an effort to avoid your eyes.

“Hey,” you repeat, walking closer and snapping your fingers near his face. “Pretty boy. You brought me here, so heads up, got it?”

Slowly, he raises his chin, eyes still pointed anywhere but at you. This guy must be an idiot to summon something he seems to be this afraid of. Either stupid...

…or desperate.

You sigh, resigned. “Fine, that works. It doesn’t matter anyways, I’m not who you were looking for.”

He looks at you for a second in surprise but quickly averts his eyes again. “What-- what do you mean?”

“Take a look around, pretty boy.” You gesture both arms out at the empty night, nodding your chin at the intersection. “You’re looking for a crossroad demon, and I’m not one of those assholes.”

Which begs the question, what are you doing here?

You shake your head, scrunching your eyes shut. That doesn’t matter, you should just get out of here anyways and fish that nail polish bottle out of the stream. You may be a bridge demon, but you’re not a litterer.

Just as you raise your hand to whisk yourself away, the man wraps both his hands around yours.

Well, that’s different.

Eyes widening, you take in the desperate expression of the man before you. The tracks from tears gone by glisten on his cheeks under the moonlight.

“If you’re not--” He struggles to breathe and talk at the same time. “If you’re not a crossroad demon, does that mean you won’t... that you can’t--”

“Whoa.” At your interruption, he stops shaking a bit, but he doesn’t let go of your hand. “Let me stop you right there,” you say. “I can do anything those douche nozzle crossroad demons can do, okay?”

This might not be your territory -- humans don’t usually make deals with bridge demons, instead flooding popular sights with infrared cameras and those stupid ouija board things -- but you do have your pride to think of. Whatever a crossroad demon can do, you damn well can too.

A spark of hope shines in his eyes, and his hands squeeze you tighter.

(This is the first time a human has touched you in... ever. Weird.)

“Then you can bring him back?”

“Take me to him.”

=

On the way, pretty boy tells you his name is Jangjun.

You’ve never ridden in a car before, but this old thing can’t be the peak of human technology. A weird sound gurgles from its engine, and this awful scraping noise happens whenever Jangjun drives over a speedbump.

The ride takes at least an hour. You wonder why he couldn’t find any closer intersections.

No words are said after Jangjun’s short introduction, even shorter considering you don’t give him your own name. When you approach the destination, though, you realize maybe you should’ve said something more.

Of course it’s a haunted house.

It’s not one of those jokey, man-made haunted houses that show up around October, just a regular old house that reeks of malcontent. You can smell it from the car. What was Jangjun doing in a place like this?

Still silent, Jangjun leads you through the unlocked front door. You can tell no electricity runs to the house, same with water, and you wonder how long its been abandoned. Strangely enough, you can’t feel any entities (dead or alive) nearby. Just remnants.

You follow him through the house, and it’s way too silent aside from his footsteps.

“Oh, fucking hell.”

You’re not the most squeamish demon on the flip-side, but you can’t help the words that slip out.

A boy hangs dead on the wall, his chest completely pierced through with what seems to be a splintered table leg. It acts like a fucking thumbtack, stabbed into the drywall like it was corkboard. His head hangs slightly, but you can still see his blank eyes and slack lips, dried blood trickling from the corners from when he must have coughed up his last breaths.

Holy shit.

“Joochan,” Jangjun whimpers behind you. He hasn’t stepped into the room like you have, stuck in the doorway as he leans all his weight on the frame.

You gawk at the body on the wall, only more appalled now that you know its name.

“What the fuck were you two doing here?” you ask Jangjun, whose eyes can’t seem to peel away from his friend’s corpse. “This had to be done by a... a... poltergeist! Or wraith! Or-- or--”

You cut yourself off. A demon could’ve easily done this.

Jangjun’s watering eyes start to leak, but he answers you anyways. “We’re bounty hunters.”

“Bounty hunters?!” You look at Joochan again, then back to Jangjun. “The fuck? That kid looks twenty at most, and you’re what? Twenty-five?”

“Twenty-four...”

“Fuck’s sake,” you say with a scoff. Bounty hunters are few and far between, you know that. Most of the world doesn’t even know about the supernatural, but you’ve never encountered bounty hunters this young. The ones around Jangjun’s age are usually thrill-chasers -- guys looking for ghosts on their youtube channels or drunk kids venturing into hotspots on dares.

But bounty hunters? They fight and dispel spirits; trap rogue demons and kill rabid beasts. That’s no job for people as young as them.

“I didn’t--” Jangjun chokes on air. “Joochan wasn’t supposed to--”

He can’t seem to finish his sentence, so you don’t ask. You walk towards Joochan and lift one of his pant legs to touch your fingers to his skin. He’s not cold yet, but he certainly isn’t warm. It’s been at least ten hours.

Considering you can’t sense any negative culminations around, you assume Jangjun was able to take care of whatever was haunting this house, but you can tell he feels no victory in that. After all, it did this to his partner.

You set up a rickety old chair in order to reach the wooden leg in Joochan’s chest, wrapping your hand around it with as much grip as you can muster. It feels disgusting, having to disrespect his dead body when it’s already been so destroyed. Still, the idea that you can fix the damage allows you to continue.

Beginning to pull at the table leg, you stop when you hear a thud behind you. Jangjun falls to his knees, still stuck in the doorway of the room. Tears flow freely down his cheeks now. Normally, you’d be annoyed at such an exaggerated show of human emotion, but with one of your hands on Joochan’s shoulder and the other around the pseudo-spear stabbed in his chest, you let Jangjun off the hook. This isn’t exactly the easiest thing to watch.

You pull it out swiftly -- Joochan can’t feel it anyways -- and throw the leg to the side so you can catch his body with both arms. Each of his limbs are stiff with death. Slowly, you lower him to the floor so he lies on his back. Something deep within you feels bad for putting his head on the hardwood even though you know he can’t feel anything right now.

“Jangjun.”

From across the room, he raises his head, wiping at his eyes in an attempt to pull himself together. He nods instead of giving you a verbal response.

“Come over here.”

He doesn’t hesitate, and you think it might just be because he can’t risk anything going wrong. Jangjun needs Joochan back -- you can tell.

You tell him to put Joochan’s head in his lap, and he hangs onto your every word.

“I just think he’ll want to see you first,” you explain. He seems a bit surprised to hear that, but you watch him reign the reaction back in. Jangjun is still very much afraid of you. “Do you get grossed out easily?”

He presses his lips into a line, unsure. “No...”

“Alright. I know bounty hunters see a lot of shit, but...” You kneel beside Joochan’s chest and take a deep breath, looking one last time at Jangjun. Surprisingly, he meets your gaze. “...close your eyes.”

He does.

You use your left hand to trace two circles on your right palm and take another breath. Maybe you should’ve left this to a crossroad demon.

No. You’re a demon, damn it. Bringing someone back from the dead is chump change to someone as powerful as you.

Easy.

You plunge your right hand into the hole in Joochan’s chest, cringing at the feeling of blood and flesh pushing past your fingers. Sinking in deeper and deeper, you see Jangjun shying away from the sound. It only takes a moment to reach all the way through, and you close your eyes as heat blazes against your fingertips. The underworld opens at your call.

Joochan’s soul is still tethered to his body, a golden string which you grasp between your fingers.

It’s heavy.

You pull at Joochan’s soul with all your might, tugging the golden string, but it’s harder than you expected. Something is caught, like it doesn’t...

Grabbing what you can, you take your hand out and watch the wound close, trapping Joochan’s soul within it. Well, most of his soul.

You hold your right hand up in the air, not wanting to get blood on your clothes or even the floor for whatever material reason. Joochan doesn’t move, but you know there’s still one step left. The only problem is that you’re not sure if Joochan is ready.

Jangjun’s eyes are still closed, but he’s holding Joochan so tenderly that you almost don’t want to ask him what you need to know.

“Hey.”

As soon as he sees your blood covered hand -- it goes past your elbow from how deeply you had to reach into the underworld -- his eyes widen, and he twists to look at Joochan’s previously gaping chest wound. His jaw drops when he finds it closed, the only evidence of it happening in the first place being Joochan’s torn, stained shirt.

“How--”

“Not important,” you cut him off. “I need you to tell me if there is any reason Joochan would want to stay dead.”

Jangjun presses his lips together again, looking down at Joochan in his lap. He places a gentle hand on Joochan’s cheek and slowly runs his thumb along the skin. It almost feels like a moment you shouldn’t be a part of.

After a few seconds, he meets your eyes. “Joochan... His family casted him out when he turned eighteen.”

“Why?”

Jangjun shakes his head. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“But...” You hesitate with your words, unsure of whether they mean anything. “...you still want to bring him back?”

He nods, jaw clenched.

Alright.

You trace more runes onto your palm and wait for the tips of your fingers to glow with a golden light. Despite looking similar in colour to the golden tether of Joochan’s soul, your power hums with dark energy, and you see Jangjun start to tremble just from being in its presence. You decide to hurry it up.

You tap Joochan’s forehead, first with your ring finger, then pointer. Focusing your power on his soul, which still hangs halfway between earth and the underworld, you take a breath and press one last quick tap to his forehead with your middle finger.

Error; missing text

[the-roadtrip-system]

ALRIGHT HERES A RECAP OF THE SOUND EFFECT RUN

the vine boom video is dogshit and they are so incredibly frequent that it juts was boring and i ended up drowning it out.

the lego breaking sound was similar, in that i eventually stopped noticing it, but that one was better than the vine boom.

the minecraft ones were also pretty frequent but because it was a bunch of random sounds and not the same one over and over that one was still fun.

and speaking of the minecraft ones those specifically fucked with me the most because i kept getting like. sea pickle placing sound effect. and i thought it was a wall dweller peeling itself off the wall. and i kept thinking that there was actually something shooting at me because of the bow/arrow sounds.

thankfully there was no actual wall dwellers to deal with :)

i turned off the splatoon one like i said because it was mostly music and i was expecting the silly squid sounds. i was very disappointed.

i CONSISTENTLY forgot about the dodgeball and megalovania ones, and it got me every single time. one of the many side effects of having a bad short term memory.

one part of the dodgeball video has like 7 hit sounds rapidfire and i thought i was dying.

somehow, the amongus sounds didnt play a single time when i was in a vent. it did, however, play once when i got out of the vent at sebastians place.

"its been too long without something happening. somethings gonna happen." *meow*

the water splishing minecraft sound played when i got to sebastians shop

i also discovered that you can say "hell" in roblox thats allowed apparently. ive been playing this game since i was eleven and i never knew this.

ALSO I GOT THE GAMBLING ROOM FOR THE FIRST TIME AND GOT THE BOOK AND THE DRINK

the game slightly bugged a bit with that because it kept the word "surprising" on my screen until i got to the searchlights.

the audio for one of the angler encounters also was bugged i think? it sounded like it was underwater despite there not having been any underwater sections? why does my game keep breaking in such minor insignificant ways (rhetorical)

i died to pinkie and revived which is annoying because i lost the regen effect it wouldve been a damageless run otherwise :/ btu i won anyways so it doesnt matter

i got that stupid 1 in 500 percent fish door thing again IN THE RIDGE OF ALL PLACES and im so mad that fucking fish is the worst part of the game ive gotten it like five or six times now it sucks if i could remove one thing from the game it would be that

speaking of the ridge it was pretty uneventful (other than the fish door). the amongus thing occasionally made it hard to hear when an angler was coming but i was fine 👍

i used the flash beacon a lot during the search party because why not and the minecraft sounds kept lining up perfectly with it? like i would flash it and would hear a zombie as if it was the actual sound. it was kinda funny

least effective at catching me off guard was the vine boom for reasons i already mention. most effective was the minecraft sounds because of the horse dying sound jumpscaring me. the only thing scarier than that was the fish door. (i know its name i just refuse to use it. because i dont respect it.)

also this was my 11th win :D! i like 11 its a good number :)

@chilipowder9 i highly recommend you do this its very fun but you should pick a different vine boom video than i did the one i picked sucked

ok this is really stupid but i think itll be fun so fuck it

normal playthrough of pressure except i have those "silence occasionally interupted by noises" videos on in the background

we've got amongus, vine boom, splatoon sounds, lego breaking sound, first four notes of megalovania, dodgeball hitting sound, random minecraft sounds, and metal pipe

all of this is in addition to the normal ambiance of the game

will report back in like an hour or so

[orbswizard]

im so mad

[luveline]

pain relief [tasm!peter parker x reader]

“You don't ever have to say please to me," he told you, eyes heady, voice warm.

summary: spider-man likes you a little bit too much, and wants to help you get rid of your migraine - by whatever means necessary. 3.4k

warnings: smut, fluff, low-key sickfic, nsfw, 18+ only please, college!peter, she/her pronouns used for reader, fem reader

The summer sun bore down on the back of your neck relentlessly. You speculated that you might have heat stroke or something similar - a persistent, acute migraine having formed behind your lashes. You didn’t have far to walk now from the public library to your apartment, the home stretch clear and achingly white with the sun. You’d covered your eyes with your hand, head down, blinking against the dryness.

You felt like your shoes were made of lead, just about managing to weave through the pedestrians packed tightly together on the sidewalk despite your impaired vision. Maneuvering through your fellow New Yorkers was usually common practice, the civilians moving through the city like schools of fish through a coral reef. You wheedled past mother’s and their children, businessmen and artists and rundown looking summer school students who crowded your avenue's bodega for lunch. In a haze, you began crossing the street, eyes to the burning hot tarmac beneath you. There was a loud beeping noise, a jolting sensation, and suddenly you were being pulled off of your feet.

The air rushed out of you in a big puff. You gasped, hands coming up to grip on tightly to the solid ones that had taken hold around your waist. You were deposited on the other side of the road by familiar red and blue arms, a warm chuckle already sounding. You winced, knowing what he’d say.

“Anybody ever taught you the golden rule of looking both ways before you cross one of the busiest streets in Queens?” Spider-Man asked you, tone turning incredulous toward the end.

“Same person who taught you to keep your hands to yourself,” you murmured, pulling out of his arms.

“Don’t be like that, Y/N,” he said, voice light.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said, deflecting his flirting. You squinted up into his masked face, glad to be turned from the sun's melting rays and in the shade.

Spider-Man was emotive despite the mask, his stance telling you what you wanted to know. He was in a terrible mood, evidently - terrible for you - his gait confident, his shoulders rolled back. He was going to keep flirting with you, you realised, and then he'd insist on walking you home.

He often sought you out. When you tried to accuse him of this, he argued that the one seeking you out was actually trouble, and he was the neighbourhood’s defense against trouble. “You’re an integral part of the neighbourhood,” he’d reasoned, “so of course, I’ll be protecting you.”

That had been a long while back, when he’d first showed up in Queens. Since then he’d walked you home countless times, returned your menace of a cat just as many, and spent all together too much of his time on you. You weren't the sharpest tool in the shed but you also weren't stupid enough to miss that Spider-Man seemed to have a crush on you.

"You're always in the right place at the right time, aren't you, bug boy?"

"What are you implying?" he asked.

You let your back rest on the cool alley wall, smiling as best as you could despite your pounding headache. The movement made you wince.

His easy going demeanour melted away quicker than you could process, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Are you okay?"

“Sorry,” you said, bringing your hand back up to press against your hot forehead. “Migraine.”

“Can you walk?” he asked worriedly.

You laughed at him. “It’s not that bad.”

“Hurts?”

You were surprised at the inklings of tenderness in place of his usual bravado.

“A bit,” you mumbled, pushing your hair from your face.

His hand stretched out between you like he might try comforting you. You wondered what he'd been about to do, maybe he would've placed his gloved hand on your shoulder, rubbed it placatingly up and down your arm, worked it behind you to hug you to his side.

"Wait," you said, perplexed. "Gloves?" You reached out for his hand and he let you take it. You turned his wrist in your hands, assessing the almost invisible seam. "You have a good seamstress."

"I-" he cleared his throat, "I made the suit myself."

You almost dropped his hand. "You did?"

"Impressive, yeah?"

He couldn’t remember when he’d had the thought to move from full sleeves to gloves, which could be attached and reattached, only that he had, and as a result his life had been suddenly easier, he explained to you. Easier to clean when they got dirtied with blood, grime, and general street germs, easier to repair, and easier to replace altogether when he burned through them, whether with fire or friction.

"That's really cool," you praised him, falling into step beside him.

He took you through the shortcut to your apartment, shrugging off your compliments. "I've made a couple, now."

"I can imagine," you said, the words sounding like you were underwater.

The sun was microwaving you. You swayed on your feet, instinctively pushing your hand out to try and grab onto your superhero escort. He was already shooting sideways to grab you, his strong arm coming up under your armpit and around your shoulder blades.

"Okay," he said, grunting, "alright, you're good. You're okay."

You screwed your eyes shut, taking a shaky breath. "I don't feel okay."

"You have water in your bag?" he asked, gesturing to your tote bag on the opposite shoulder. You nodded and he pushed his hand into the bag. If he found it difficult to hold you up and search for the flask he said nothing of it, pulling the clear bottle out and unscrewing the cap to press into your hand. "Drink, doll."

You sipped. You would've rolled your eyes at the pet name if your eyes weren't already shut and hurting.

"Remember when I asked if you could walk? I love being right," he said, trying to cheer you up.

You laughed, the sound bouncing around inside your skull like a super-powered top, hitting the sides and making you cringe.

"Done?" he asked. You handed the bottle off to him and he tucked it back in your bag. "I'm gonna carry you now," he informed you politely.

He moved behind you. You gripped his arm.

"Don't-"

"Come on, you need to get home somehow."

"I'm worried I'll throw up," you confessed, squinting at his masked face.

"You won't, and if you do I know a laundry sheriff that'll fix me up afterwards," he said elusively. He gathered you in a bridal carry in his arms like you weighed nothing, mutant strength letting him walk you to your apartment building as though you were a sack of flour in his arms.

“A sheriff?” you asked him, face pressed into his chest.

“A formidable one.”

“She wears the trousers in the relationship?”

“Not my girlfriend. And not very progressive of you.”

You chortled unattractively. “Don’t worry, bug, I didn’t think you were talking about a girlfriend.”

“Schoolyard taunts are beneath you, really. If you’re going to insult me, do it properly.”

You nodded, letting your chin flop forward to touch your chest. “Is this really necessary? I’m dizzy, not dying.”

“Indulge me.”

“You’re ridiculous. I feel much better after the water, so put me down,” you told him, squirming in his iron grip.

“Relax,” he said. “We’re here. Is your window open?”

You shrieked, felt yourself being lifted into the air and then you were being carried through your bedroom window.

“Spider-Man,” you said through clenched teeth, “I’ll pretend that you knowing what window is mine isn’t creepy if you put me down.”

He dumped you on your bed. You looked at him blearily, feeling him fluff your pillow up behind your head. “It’s not creepy, I walk you home all the time. And you leave your curtains open.”

“Okay, stalker,” you mumbled, enjoying the cold sheets underneath you. “It’s so hot today,” you whispered, remembering your pounding headache.

“You have Tylenol?”

“In the medicine cabinet.”

He disappeared into your bathroom. You moaned, stretching out onto the bed so hard it made your weak legs shake, your shoulders locking up. You kicked your shoes off, pulling your cardigan free and then your skirt off. I can’t believe he put me on my bed in outside clothes, you thought to yourself, moody. I’ll have to change my sheets. Tomorrow.

Spider-Man walked back in with the Tylenol. It was so ridiculous you

couldn’t help but laugh, the sight of him standing unsurely in the doorway with half your medicine cabinet in his hands.

“My hero,” you said warmly, opening your hands. He shook two pills into your open palm and you took them, sipping at the water on your nightstand from the night before.

“I wish it would work quicker,” you confided, stretching a hand over your eyes.

You felt him sit at the end of your bed. “Do you still feel faint?”

“No, I’m fine, Spider-Man. You can go home now, if you like. Thanks for helping me.”

There was a long silence. You peeked through your fingers to watch him. He was oddly still as he spoke. “I could… help more.”

Your mouth quirked up into a disbelieving smile. “You can’t fight a migraine.”

He cleared his throat. You marvelled at his voice, soft and flirtatious, a heart-rending shyness underneath it. “I read something once…”

“You can read?”

His shoulders shook. “Let me finish! I read that sometimes, girls can experience a different kind of pain relief.”

“What kind of pain relief is that?”

“I could show you?” he said, voice lilting up at the end in question.

You could hear the busy streets outside, the car horns and the bodega bell, the people shouting and chattering and the train that rattled past like clockwork a street down. So loud outside, and yet the loudest sound was your heart in your ears and Spider-Man’s suit sliding against your bed sheets.

The barest touch of his gloved knuckles against your thigh made you snap back into reality. “Y/N?”

“Show me,” you repeated his words, letting your hand fall from your eyes. "Please."

It was like a switch - shy Spider-Man was replaced with his usual, confident self. It was all encompassing. He sidled up closer still, pulling his glove free one finger at a time.

He had lovely hands - big hands, long, nimble looking fingers and a wide palm which he lay flat on your naked thigh. "You're appropriately dressed."

"I'm sorry," you said, embarrassed, "I was warm."

"I'm not complaining," he said, palm hot against your skin. "You're killer."

"You're incorrigible," you murmured, goosebumps jumping up your skin from his touch.

He pushed his hand up and over the elastic of your underwear, pushing the edges of your thin tank top up to slide his palm over your tummy.

He inched up under your shirt. “This okay?”

You breathed out too quickly. "Yeah."

He pushed under your shirt. You bit your lip as he massaged your chest, catching your nipple between his fingers.

You were caught between arousal and surprise, unable to really take in what was happening. "Spider-Man," you started.

"What?" he asked quietly. It was as though neither of you wanted to disrupt the relative quiet of your room, should it shatter the bubble that had formed around you both.

"Can't I call you something else?"

"Handsome works," he said, rolling your nipple between his two fingertips.

"Handsome," you said, testing the word. "Doesn't sound right."

He pinched your skin spitefully. You couldn't help gasping in pleasure, chest heaving under his touch. He pushed your shirt up completely, exposing your breasts to the warm air.

"Cute," he commented, as if to himself.

He stopped his touching to hook a neat fingernail under the edge of the mask, pulling it up so the lower half of his face was exposed. You felt starstruck, startled by his sudden reveal and his soft, pretty face, barely noticing as he climbed over your legs to sit on your thighs, looking down at you with his head pushed towards his shoulder, like he was assessing you.

You felt self conscious under his gaze. “What are you looking at me for?”

“Admiring the view,” he said. He’d discarded his other glove now and was pressing both hands to your chest, paying special attention to your nipples. He leaned down to kiss the underside of your breast and then the nipple, nibbling at it in a motion that sent shudders through you. You hesitantly cupped the back of his head, feeling the softness of his hair underneath the mask.

Your head fell back against the pillow, tracing the familiar lines of your bedroom ceiling whilst your friendly neighbourhood superhero traced the lines of your body. He smoothed the skin of your trembling abdomen flat as his unoccupied hand travelled lower, teasing the waistband of your panties. He lifted the elastic to let it snap against your skin, grinning into your skin when your breath caught.

His hand found its way under the fabric. He broke away from your chest to watch his own hand move against your cunt, fingertips pressing into the button of your clit, curiously dipping into the pool of wetness just below.

He pushed your panties to the side and pulled back from hovering over you to sit on his haunches atop your thighs, running the pad of his thumb from the growing slick at your centre to your clit, spreading the mess your body was making carefully, in gentle strokes. Each time he crested your clit it made your core burn, twisting at the sensation.

He moved from straddling you to in between your legs, pushing them up slightly, your heels digging into the mattress springs. You felt much more provocative this way, bared to him. It was odd not to see his eyes as he touched you so intimately,

"I think you're toying with me, handsome," you murmured.

"Do you really?" he asked, trailing the tip of his finger down the crease of your cunt, stopping just above your entrance. "Why would you think that?"

He pushed the tip of his finger into your heat. You both groaned. "You seem like a tease," you told him, voice high.

He laughed, settling into a rhythm and soon joining his first finger with his second. "I'm the tease? You threw yourself at me 20 minutes ago."

"I fell over!"

"Fainted from my presence," he corrected gently, curling his fingers inside you.

You balled the sheets up in your hand. "You're right."

"Knew you'd see it my way."

"The fact that you can run your mouth while- while messing with me is ridiculous."

"I'm not messing with you, bub, I'm playing with you."

This was obvious. He flicked his wrist, reminiscent of the motion he made to shoot webs, pushing incrementally deeper inside you. You keened, covering your hand with his, trying to force his fingers in deeper. "So eager…" he muttered, though he didn't pull away. He stayed with his fingers deep inside you, fucking and curling til you were panting, stomach tensing up.

"Relax," he said, laughing. You'd pushed up onto your elbow to watch his ministrations, open mouthed.

He spread his fingers open inside you, slowly pulling out, the stretch a pleasurable ache. Your panting slowly edged into whining territory, your hand like iron around his. He used his free hand to poke at your clit carefully, the barest touch of his fingertip against the bead of it. He bit his lip at your moans, his hips jutting forward where he sat.

You let yourself fall flat again and groaned. Spider-Man was spreading you open with his fingers, dick straining against the spandex of his suit.

"Han- handsome," you stuttered, disrupted by his speeding up. His index and pinky finger hit the soft flesh of your cunt with every thrust, each collision wet and fast.

"What, baby?" he said, so softly, distracted with his actions.

"Can you- can we-" you struggled to find the words, struggled worse to say them without feeling embarrassed.

"You want," his fingers left you, the tip of his index finger now joining the first two at your entrance, "this?"

"Please…"

He pushed the beginnings of his three fingers inside you, pushing up on your clit to spread your pussy open. "You don't ever have to say please to me," he told you, eyes heady, voice warm. "Tell me if it hurts."

He buried his fingers in your cunt to the first knuckles, then the second. The further he pushed in the more overwhelming it became, your legs beginning to shake. He leaned down to kiss one of your thighs, amused if his smirk was anything to go by. He pushed against the soft barrier he'd found. You positively mewled, alarmed that he'd found your sweet spot and was now seeking it out with abandon, his thrusts sharp and fast. You were still so tight that each one was a lovely agony, tears welling in your eyes.

"Too much?" he asked, retreating.

You shook your head vehemently. "Feels nice," you wobbled.

"Yeah?" He grinned, three fingers deep inside you as they could go, thumb on your clit. His other hand fell away, moving to palm his cock through the material of his suit.

You swallowed hard. His coordination must be fantastic, you thought, because he didn't miss a beat; he stroked the length of himself, touch down soft as he ruined you, manipulating the button of your clit with his fingers curled against your soft spot. You squirmed, rolling your hips, almost begging.

"Please, please," you mumbled uselessly, over and over.

Spider-Man stopped touching himself to wrap his strong hand around the underside of your knee, pushing your leg back into your chest to spread you wide open, before leaning down to catch the most sensitive part of your cunt with his mouth.

You gasped, quickly threading your fingers into the down-soft hair at the nape of his neck. He suckled the bead of your clit and forgot any pretense of gentleness, the lewd sound of his debasement of your cunt echoing in your ears. He surfaced to plant kisses on the skin between your centre and your thighs, breathing hard. He licked a stripe from his hand to your clit and then, in what was your undoing, nibbled ever so lightly.

You froze, leg tensing up in his grip, the climax so sudden you couldn't help the sound you made, loud and clear. He groaned as your walls clamped down around his fingers.

He pulled his fingers out finally, leaning back to continue his own touching with your slick still on his hand, hips jutting up. You held your hands out and he crawled forward to meet you, letting you pull his lips down to press against yours.

He tasted like you. Your hand went to his back, pressing him close to your body without thinking. You could feel the shape of his cock against you, rutting up against you as you kissed, lips firm. He made a sound like a hiccup that made you want to propose marriage, pressing his hips down into yours hard. You were so sensitive from cumming the sensation made you cry out.

He moaned, his lips pressed against the corner of your mouth, hands digging into your neck so hard it was almost painful.

"Gonna cum for me, Spider-Man?" you asked hurriedly.

He might have laughed, you weren't sure, the sound covered up by a groan that sent sparks to your already oversimulated cunt. He jerked into you, movements choppy, before he collapsed, his forehead digging into your neck.

“You’re crushing me,” you said into his head, the top of the mask cold on your mouth.

“You’re whining,” he said, though he pressed a kiss to your shoulder and climbed off of you anyways. “How’s the headache?”

You clamped your thighs closed and covered your eyes bashfully. “Gone,” you admitted.

His hands climbed down the length of your thigh, drawing your knees apart again.

“Just to be sure,” he said coquettishly.

<3 thanks for reading

my masterlist

[forever-rogue]

hi! if you’re accepting requests from prompt list #2, does angst to fluff count lol. 5 from angst, 49 from fluff lists! with reader thinking din loves someone else 🥺 i like mando x omera but.. reader who perhaps doesnt have the skills omera has and sees how din looks at her… THE ANGST 😌🤌

AN | Me, writing some Din? It’s been a hot minute, but here we are. I miss him 🥺

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A small sigh, a wistful little thing, escaped your lips as you studied the gently lapping water of the lake. It was calm here, a peaceful, tranquil place that served as a welcome refuge after all that you'd been through in the last few years. Sometimes it seemed almost too good to be true. The distant sounds of laughter met your ears as children ran around and played, carefree as could be. Sometimes you wished you were that young again; innocent to life’s darker sides. Unfortunately that wasn’t a possibility, but for now you’d take the peace and stillness you could get.

Pulling off your boots and socks, you quickly tossed them to the side. The water was warm as you relaxed and leaned back, closing your eyes and soaking up the warmth of the summer sun. It wasn’t until you heard the familiar voice that your eyes slowly snapped back opened. Your heart constricted slightly as you spotted Din nearby speaking to Omera. He seemed so happy, in a much better mood than you’d seen in a long time. It was all her, and you remained invisible. Which, when it came to most things wasn’t too bad, but sometimes you wished he would see you.

“Is somebody jealous?” you hadn’t even heard the bounty hunter walk over; you supposed that’s one of the many reasons he was the best in the galaxy. Boba offered a small grimace before sitting down next to you. You shrugged him off staring back into the water. You were not about to get into anything with Boba; that man was insufferable and usually right.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you brushed him off, trying desperately not to look back at Din. Instead, you focused on the water and watched the tiny fish whiz through the water; a few of them brushed by your feet, sending a ticklish shiver up your spine, “I’m just...enjoying the calm afternoon sun and soaking up as much peace before we inevitably leave again.”

“That’s how this all works,” Boba sighed as you nodded in agreement, “you knew that from the day you became my apprentice.”

“I know,” you whispered, “but I hoped at one point I could...walk away and have a normal life. Like this.”

“Normal is all relative,” he had a point as you huffed lightly and stood up, brushing off your pants and reaching for your boots, “but if this is what you want, what you truly want, you know you’re welcome to leave whenever. I would not hold you back from the life you wanted.”

“I know, Boba,” you put your hand on his shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, “the problem is that I don’t really know what I want...I think I know but...it’s more than that.”

“Of course,” he agreed, casting a quick glance at the object of your affections before turning back to you, “I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

“Either way, it will work out, just as it always does,” you swallowed the lump that had welled up in your throat, “Boba, why are you doing this?”

“I just want to make sure you’re happy - that you know that you have choices in what you’re doing,” he said like it was no big deal, but to you it meant so much. This hardened, sometimes gruff man really did have a heart of gold underneath it all, “should you want to part ways, I would understand. Should you want to stay, I’d be more than happy to have you with me. I don’t know what the future holds for myself, Fennec, or Djarin, but you know it will not always be easy. But sometimes you have to decide what’s most important.”

“Yes,” you answered softly, “thank you, Boba.”

He remained silent as you laced up your boots before padding away, back towards the village. You knew you had a lot to think about and if you wanted things to change at all, you’d have to figure out something. You cast a glance over your shoulder and you were almost positive that you’d spotted Din looking in your direction. But it was all a trick of the mind; it had to be. Why would he spare you more than a passing thought anyways?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was late by the time he found you; much later than any reasonable person should have been outside, but you couldn’t sleep. There was too much on your mind to silence, and if you managed to, it was short-lived and another thought came to replace the previous one. Eventually you’d given up and wandered out of the small hut home that had been acting as your own home for the last couple of months. You knew the area was safe and wanted to enjoy the temperate night air before it turned to a crisp fall breeze, or worse - you’d be gone.

Small bugs chirped happily along with the soft songs of nightbirds as you walked around the sleeping village; you weren’t scared here, you felt safe and at home. But as you rounded a corner, a gloved hand reached out and grabbed your wrist. A small yelp of surprise left your lips as you pulled into a wall of cool metal - beskar.

“Shhh,” Din placed a finger to his lips as you relaxed when you realized it was him, “you’ll wake everyone up. It’s just me.”

“Dank Farrik!” you hissed at him, “how was I supposed to know that? You could have been a murderer!”

“Well….you should be in bed sleeping.”

“So should you!” your arms crossed over your chest as you stared him down, and eventually he huffed in defeat, realizing you were right. He couldn’t sleep either, plagued by the choices he knew that he had to make sooner rather than later. He hadn’t expected you to be out as well, “what are you doing anyway?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck nervously, a flash of...something in his dark eyes, “I thought that some fresh air would clear my head.”

“Same here,” you admitted reluctantly, leaving the two of you in an awkward silence. You wished you had enough bravery (or perhaps even stupidity) in your body to just say something to him then and there. At least it would be out of the way; but you weren’t feeling anything but nervous butterflies fluttering in your tummy, “I...umm...I guess I’ll get back. Try and sleep.”

“Hey-” he reached for your arm gently before you could get too far away. You turned around and raised an eyebrow as he opened and closed his mouth a few times, “d-did I do something wrong?”

“What? What are you talking about?” the question caught you off guard, but judging by the look on his face, you could sense that this was something he had been thinking for some time.

“You’ve been different lately...it almost feels like you’re avoiding me.”

“Oh DIn, you’re being ridiculous,” and yet the accusation was very true.

“You’re fine around Boba, Fennec...everyone else. But every time I’m around it feels like you can’t wait to get away,” you should have known that he would have noticed sooner or later. The man was more observant than you’d cared to admit, “if I did something, please tell me.”

“You can’t be serious, Djarin. There’s nothing wrong…”

“Then why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been doing anything. You’ve got too much free time and your mind is running wild.”

“Tell me it’s not true then.”

“Din-”

“Tell me.”

“The problem is that you’re in love with someone else,” the words were out of your mouth before you even contemplated them. You were mortified and in some ways you were relieved. At least it was all out in the open now and you were able to let the chips land where they may.

“Oh,” was his only response as his head tilted to the side and he looked at you in confusion, “what?”

“I...kriff,” you sighed, “I shouldn’t have said that. Sorry - forget I said anything.”

“Who am I in love with?”

“What do you mean?” tears welled up in your eyes at his response; almost like a cruel joke, “you know, everyone knows! Omera; and why wouldn’t you be? She’s wonderful - kind, smart, beautiful … everything. Part of me wants to dislike her, but I can’t because she’s such a good person but it kills me a little bit to know that you love her and you’ll never even think twice about me. I know that’s super selfish but it’s the way I feel; and judging from how this is going I think I’m making the right decision by leaving. By myself.”

Din said nothing as a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You laughed bitterly at yourself before realizing that this might have been the best decision after all. You couldn’t stay after this.

It wasn’t long before Din came to his senses and ran after you, calling your name and catching up with a few easy strides. You came to a reluctant stop as you sniffled and waited for him to say something, despite the fact that you weren’t sure you wanted to hear whatever he had to say.

“I-I-I’m not in love with Omera,” he insisted as it became your turn to look at him in bewilderment, “I’m in love with you.”

“What?”

“I’ve been talking to her about you,” he confessed, “about how to do...this sort of thing. But then you started avoiding me and I wondered if maybe I’d read the signs wrong and you didn’t like me at all. At least not in that way.”

“I don’t….what?” you heard his words but weren’t able to fully comprehend them. This had to be some sort of weird fever dream. Din sighed - his trademark sigh - before ripping off his gloves and gently putting his hands on the sides of your face. He was hesitant at first, to see if you would stop him. But you didn’t...instead you relished in his touch, the feel of his bare skin on yours sending electric shivers throughout your whole body.

After a few moments of quietly studying your features, he leaned in and slowly pressed his lips against yours. It wasn’t a proper kiss by any means, hardly more than a ghost of one, but it felt...strangely wonderful. You looked at him in disbelief as he pulled back; was this really the same man that you’d met all that time ago that wouldn’t even tell anyone his name or let them see his face?

“Oh.”

“Can we go inside?” he whispered softly, “can we talk?”

“Yeah,” you agreed gently. He reached for your hand but before he could take it in his, you stopped him and pressed another sweet, barely there kiss to his lips. A tinge of pink colored his cheeks as you beamed at him, “now we can go.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Pedro Character Taglist (strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you - please check your settings. Strikethroughs will get removed if not taggable)

@qhbr2013 @greeneyedblondie44 @dodgerandevans @cannedsoupsucks @april-showers-and-flowers @klaine-92 @softboiipascal @rpcvliz @im-an-adult-ish @dobbyjen @thevoiceinyourheadx @niki-xie @jediknight122 @xxlovingfandomsxx @mrpascals @startrekkingaroundasgard @welcometothepedroverse @ilikemymendarkandfictional @actual-spawn-of-satan @wanderlust69 @lazybeeches @beskarboobs @someday-when-you-leave-me @leaiorganas @salome-c @rosiefridayrogersunday @madslorian @artsymaddie @haildoodles @windfallss @spookispunk @nikkixostan @edencherries @stillshelbs @djarinbarnes @alyispunk @ayamenimthiriel @gallowsjoker @its–fandom–darling @star017 @amneris21 @empress-palpat1ne @cable-kenobi @gooddaykate @princeofdorne @natthebattygeologist @riddikulus-obsessions @sleep-tight1 @mamacitapascal @14mcmd1122 @leaiorganas @hoodedbirdie @kenzieam @dobbyjen @jedi-mando @milkxxkookies @lazybeeches @general-latino @jediknight122 @cosmoschick @recklessworry @jaime1110 @thorins-queen-of-erebor @thatnerdwriter @bestintheparsec @pascalisthepunkest @kristeng42 @rosie-posie08

[dysphoriaposting]

Continuing! Apparently I can only have ten pictures?

I actually had to do this gym twice since I forgot to screenshot this victory postcard the first time, so believe you me: Close Combat Eviolite Crabrawler is the quintessential best strategy. Fuck your koala, fuck your long snake, and fuck that skank ass hawk you rode in on.

Literally my favorite character in this game? Spookiest bitch of all? Move out the way, Allister, Ryme has fucking skeleton locs and a goddamn Houndstone to Crunch through anything you could send her way! Be that as it may, I had to sweep her with that Palossand Grimmsnarl combo... Tears in my eyes even regaling the tale, imagine how distraught I was when I did it in real time.

I'll be honest, when you're at the same level as him, Iron Treads is a fucking right jell-o. You can actually just Clauncher him away with Water Pulse. Don't even worry about him Iron Heading you, he'll be too busy wondering why he got all muddy when he's made of solid steel.

If you told me this was the seventh gym while I was doing the gym trial, I'd punch your mouth, because I don't yet have a soap Pokemon to wash it out with yet. Such an insultingly simple puzzle, I would've had more fun doing something yoga-related. You know how much of a kick I would've gotten out of making my Forretress do different yoga poses?? Too much, I would've become a Hitmonlee, the amount of kicks I'd have gotten. Not much to report, the Toxic Spike Bug Bite sweep goes surprisingly hard in this gym.

My sweet babyboy, how I love you so ♡ (I mean, if you were next to Ryme I'd push you off your high horse and down one of those sledding courses you love so much, but still.) Being the only gym to give me actual trouble, I was distraught to find that my Tinkaton was decimated by Mr. White Christmas. How are y'all getting Tinkaton sweeps, my girl was five levels over his Altaria and my damn Meowscarada had to come in and clean up her mess. Right mutant.

The amount of gayboys in this game astound me, but I shouldn't be surprised. Being gay is super kewl 🤘 (Unless a man covered in sword blades is menacingly sitting in front of you, at which case your best option is to run, hide, and pray to anyone that will listen that he may not hair-roomba his way over to your hiding place, soon to be your tomb.)

I love sushi. Okay? I love sushi. And when I heard leaks of a sushi Pokemon? My heart soared, I was exhilarated, dare I say excited! And then I saw the Pokedex and I said... oh. He's a bit shit, isn't he?

I hate middle-aged men. Okay? I hate middle-aged men. And when I heard leaks of a sushi chef Pokemon? I sank in my seat. I was miserable. I knew he was going to be my first hated Pokemon. And then I saw the Pokedex and said "OI MATE WHO IS THIS SACK OF SHIT? WHO IS THIS GORGEOUS CREECHUR OF FUCKERY AND NONSENSE?? THIS UGLY ASS, HIS STUPID ASS, FUCKING HATE THIS DUDE I LOVE HIM THIS NASTY FUCK"

And that's why I will be using a Dodonzo in my Scarlet playthrough, thank you. (Oh, Florges barbecued every single inch of these yummy vore fish.)

Finally, last but not least, to put the cherry on top, Bad Bitch. I won't sugarcoat it, I think I dissolved her off the face of the Poke-earth with Volcorona, but damn if she ain't my favorite Team Star boss. Icon, really. Now I won't lie, I was surprised the level cap went so far past the eight gyms, but I'm not sure I'm mad about that. Definitely confused why it was a bunch of teenagers who out leveled the strongest government-mandated femboy, but I'm not concerned. They started late in the level ladder, it's only fair that they bloom a bit late.

All in all, gorgeous main story(ies) and I'm excited to see how I feel about the postgame! Team going in? Crabrawler, Glimmora, and all four Legends of Ruin, LLLLLET'S GO BABAYYYYYYY

Toria's Pokemon Journey!

The gym with Katy was actually sorta strange, because I never realized she was the first one until I looked it up. I maaayyyybe accidentally was almost in Artazon when I checked a list and realized I was the wrong way, then I had to trek all the way back 😅 I had a complete Vivillon to sweep her with 😭

My first Titan with himbo wife was smooth as silk, as I was using the Ultimate Swamp Killer Clodsire 👌

After almost accidentally doing the gyms in the wrong order, I was sorta left permanently stronger than I should've been. So I personally blame the Internet that I cleaved through Grass Grimsley's Pokemon with a Vespiquen I in no way should've had.

Call me crazy, but does literally anybody not following the level guide do the Sky Titan fourth? It's so out of the way and, personally, I was flabbergasted that you're supposed to journey so far out from a relatively close-knit area you were given otherwise. That being said, two Lycanroc and Bombirdier felt more like a roast turkey.

I won't lie, I'm surprised it took this long to include a Team Star base in here, especially since you usually find out about the Villains in most games around the first gym. I want to say I had an easy time with Guillermo del Toro, but I'm pretty sure the Segin Squad car had Wicked Torqued my Hariyama into the sticks. Don't worry though, Echo (Floragato) was obscenely overpowered and then killed him in a single Razor Leaf.

Swept her with but a single Dugtrio (turns out you can Sucker Punch Mismagius effortlessly).

After my traumatic run-in with an extrovert, I was then thrown on the opposite side of the scale, where I was now fighting an introvert that would much rather run me over than speak to me. It's poetic, however, that these two extremes in human nature can be found in small white women.

At the pace I was going at, I was surprised I'd even made it here. I think I made finding Orthworm the most difficult possible, as I'm pretty sure I ran everywhere except the specific pit that red fuck lived in. But that's fine honestly, my Gigachad Garganacl fucking WALLOPED his ass, sent him with a heap of salt. And, to honor him, I then caught an Orthworm so as to not hurt its feelings.

I was really surprised to find that this was only the fourth gym. Was I really only halfway through the game?? This thing was DENSE. And I was HAPPY WITH IT. Poor old man though, I'm pretty sure I crunched him up pretty hard with my Pom Pom Oricorio.

Beating up theater kids has never been easier! Watch as I employ the use of one (1) Orthworm and wipe up all this toxic sludge in an instant! Call now, and I'll throw in the Hypno and Palossand that helped send all of this gayboy's entourage packing!

[albertasunrise]

Let the Best Man Win - Part 10

Masterlist

Summary: You’ve known Frankie all your life and have harboured a crush on him for as long as you can remember. Thing is, he doesn’t feel the same. Little do you know, his best friend has a thing for you. What happens when you learn this leads to a messy chain of events that’ll leave more than one person with their heartbroken…

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Warnings: Angst, mentions of character death, brief description of childbirth.

Notes: So we're up to the movie now however, I've changed some

(a lot) of the details to suit the story. Hope you enjoy 😘 Also... sorry 😅

Part 1, Part 2 Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

6 months later...

He's sworn he was just doing a recce. Some consulting work for Santi that would take him away from home 4 days tops. You'd been unsure at first. He'd promised you he was done with stupid. That this was a job that would help them, help with the new baby and for that reason and that reason alone. You'd let him go.

Over a week had gone by now and you'd heard nothing from any of them. Molly had been calling you, chasing news on Tom and you'd had to give her the same answer each time. You didn't know anything. You watched your phone every day, waiting for that phone call from one of them to let you know that they were home alive and safe but as each day passed your started to fear the worst.

Your four-month-old daughter had grown fussier and fussier the longer he was gone. She'd become accustomed to Frankie feeding her at night, bathing her and putting her to bed as you did the brunt of the work during the day. Now all she had was you and it was clear that she missed him.

But then so did you.

Ten days after he left, you finally got a call. Ben's name flashed on your display and you practically sobbed when you saw it.

"Ben thank god." You sobbed "Where are you? How are you? How's Frank?"

"Bug slow down." He said and you did, calming your breathing as you waited for him to answer.

"I'm okay." He started and you breathed a sigh of relief "As for where I am and Fish... well, Bug-"

Your blood turned to ice at his change of tone and you immediately assumed the worst "What happened Ben?"

"The recce went sideways." He stated and you sobbed.

"What do you mean?"

"We lost Tom, and Frank... well we met some unsavoury characters on the way home." He continued and you felt your lungs tighten "Now I need you to know that he's alive Bug. We're back and he's getting the best possible treatment-"

"Treatment for what Ben?" You yelled and he sighed.

"He was involved in a car accident." He said and you broke "Some kid soldiers rammed the vehicle he was driving over and over. He managed to get everyone to safety but he suffered some internal bleeding. We didn't even know until we were back and he collapsed at the baggage collection."

"I need to see him, Ben." You sobbed as your eyes gazed down at little Ava in your arms "What hospital are you at?"

"Bug-"

"Don't you, Bug, me." You growled "He is my husband and I need to see him. Where are you?"

"We're at SAMMC Hospital." He answered and you nodded

"I will be there in an hour."

You said nothing else. You were too angry to say anything else. You hung up, grabbed what you needed for Ava and yourself and you left.

~

On the outside, Frankie looked fine, all except for the tube down his throat. When you'd arrived the doctor had given you the down low. Frankie had suffered severe trauma to his abdomen resulting in internal bleeding. The bleed had been slow which is why Frankie hadn't known about it until he'd collapsed at the airport that morning.

Ben had then stood to one side and watched as you inspected the state that your husband was in. Knowing full well that he was going to get an earful at some point.

"What happened Ben?" You asked after a while and he jumped a little in surprise.

"I told you we-"

"I want the truth, Ben." You growled, turning to face him "Was this just a recce or was it more?"

"Bug I-"

"BEN." You yelled and Ava started to cry "Shit." You growled through gritted teeth as you scooped her up "Don't bullshit me."

"It was meant to be a simple Recce but then Santi talked us all into taking care of the job ourselves."

"And the job was?"

"Talking down a drug lord." He confessed and you gasped "We got him. Apprehended some cash but then everything went to shit. Tom got greedy. Will managed to sort a bird for us and despite Fish telling Tom that the weight was too much, Redfly made him fly anyway."

"Shit Ben." You whispered and he scraped a hand over his tired face.

"We crashed on a coke farm, Frank managed to get us down with minimal injuries but then we were forced to walk. Tom got killed in the andies by one of the villagers and then it was just a case of getting what we could back."

"You're all fucking idiots." You snapped and Ben couldn't hold back his tears anymore "He's on death's door again because you all thought you could take a druglord down without any consequences?"

"He just wanted to give you and the baby a better life." He sobbed and you scoffed.

"How much did you all get?" You asked, curious to see whether the haul had been worth it.

"Nothing in the end." Ben confessed, "We put all our shares into a fund for Red's family."

"How noble of you." You growled and Ben choked on a sob as he watched you pace.

"He swore to me that he was done with doing stupid shit." You sobbed "He swore to me and he broke that promise."

"Bug please." Ben pleaded but you shook your head.

"No." You cried "I'm done with this."

"Bug-"

"Keep me up to date on his progress." You stated as you placed Ava in her carrier and grabbed her bag "I'll be staying with friends indefinitely."

"Bug this will kill him." Ben begged and you scoffed at his statement.

"Well, he should have thought of that before he broke my trust for the final time."

"Please, don't do this to him."

You said nothing. You left without a single glance because this was the final straw for you.

You didn't know if you could come back from this.

Just four months prior, everything was perfect. You'd worked through your issues and had welcomed your daughter into the world. Now you were back to square one and you were at a loss for what to do because, despite everything, you still loved him.

Before the lies, he was the perfect husband. The perfect father... but you weren't sure that was enough. You weren't sure you could forgive him this time.

~

Will was sat vigil at Frankie's side when you next came by. You'd not been able to sleep knowing he was there, hanging on by a thread whilst you packed your things to stay with your friend. You'd left Ava with her so you could visit and you'd tried not to break when you found him in the same state he'd been a few days before.

"How is he?" You asked softly and Will looked up in shock, not hearing you arrive.

"He's developed a fever." He answered after a few tense seconds "They're monitoring it but it's not so high that they're concerned right now."

"Okay." You replied with a slight nod before making your way to his side.

"He's been through tougher scrapes than this." Will continued "He'll pull through."

You still said nothing. Just stared numbly at your husband as you perched on the edge of his bed, tidying his hair, blankets, anything to keep your hands busy.

Will watched you fuss over him, desperately trying to keep his thoughts to himself. Ben had told you what you were planning to do and it had angered him to no end. Frankie had been the only one that had made solid calls the entire operation. They were all alive because of him.

"Why Frankie." You uttered under your breath and he couldn't stay silent anymore.

"He didn't even want to go." Will piped up, pulling your attention away from your husband and onto the man across from you "He didn't want to go because of you and Ava but Pope pleaded with him. He's sworn to us all that it was just a recce and we believed him." Will continued as he scoffed at the memory "Skip forward to the shit show that was south America, he was the one that got us home safe. He was the only one that spoke any sense and he never stopped talking about how he needed to get home to you. To Ava. That was all he cared about Bug and I'm sorry but I can't stand by and watch you leave him when he'd done everything he could to do that."

"That's not the point Will." You snapped and he let out an exasperated sigh.

"What is then?"

"The point is that he promised me I wouldn't have to go through this again." You sobbed as you pointed at Frankie's prone form "He promised I wouldn't have to do this and now here we are." You choked "Might not be coke this time but it was still because of a stupid choice and I just don't think I can just forgive this."

"You have every right to be angry. He lied. Hell, we all did! But if you leave him, take Ava away, I don't think he'll come back from that. We'll be burying him this time."

"Don't put that sort of pressure on me Will." You growled, "This is not my fault."

"So what? Married 4 years and then you run when he needs you most?"

Silence settled over you and that's when the two of you noticed. You were ushered out by nurses. Frankie's heart rate had spiked and neither of you had noticed.

A rather irritated nurse walked out a few moments later and you both instantly felt a wave of guilt wash over you as she stopped to speak to you.

"His heart rate spiked because he was stressed." She stated and the two of you nodded "He can't afford to be stressed. His body is under immense strain. You want to bicker, take it outside but, when you're with him, you're calm and collected. Okay?"

You both nodded and so she let you inside. You looked at Frankie and let out a small sob as you contemplated the gravity of what had just happened. You knew that people in a coma could hear you but could he understand you too? Did he know now what you planned to do?"

"We need to stick together for Fish's sake." Will stated after a short while "You're angry, that's fair enough but right now your husband is in a coma fighting for his life. Now isn't the time to make rash life decisions."

He was right. You knew he was.

You'd made a vow.

For better or for worse. In sickness or in health.

This situation fell into both of those categories right now so you knew that you had to push your anger to one side and be there. The rest could wait.

You were at his side every day from that day on. You brought Ava some days. Hope she might be able to coax him out of his vegetated state but alas a week by and he made no signs of waking.

"Saw the doctor that delivered Ava down in the cafe." You said with a chuckle as you sipped at your latte "Pretty hard to look at a man that spent time between your legs as you pushed a baby through your vagina." You snorted, your mind wandering back to that day.

...

5 months earlier...

You'd barely made it into the delivery ward before you were being whisked into delivery. You'd been in the middle of dinner with the boys when your waters had broken. Gushing all over the bar floor and making a mess. You'd asked for a cloth to clean it up and the boys had laughed hard at that.

"Trust you to want to clean up after yourself after your waters break." Ben had teased and you chuckled before a contraction had rendered them all mute.

It had then been a whirlwind of emotions as Frankie timed each contraction whilst the Miller brother's helped you into the car. Your contractions had practically started at five minutes apart and Frank had known, from the copious number of books he'd read, that that meant go time.

When you arrived in the delivery room, you'd been sobbing from the pain. You were too far gone so that meant no drugs.

"I can't do this Frankie." You wailed as the next contraction tore through you and he kissed you softly.

"Yes, you can Bug." He said with a smile "You're the strongest woman I know. You can do this."

"I can't I can..." You trailed off as you shook your head and he just nodded.

"Right I need you to start pushing Mrs Morales." The doctor instructed and so you did.

Frankie held your hand through each one. Muttering words of love and encouragement as you pushed your daughter into the world. Then just when you didn't think you could push anymore, she cried and you both sobbed as Frank cut the cord and she was handed to you.

"You're so beautiful." You sobbed as you looked down at the tiny little person you'd grown inside you for 9 months "Isn't she beautiful Francisco?"

When you looked at your husband, you saw how he was in bits as he stared at her. His smile was the only thing he wore that showed you that these were tears of pure, unadulterated joy.

"She looks kinda gross." He joked and you barked a laugh at him "But yeah. She's fucking perfect."

...

"She's got a second tooth coming through by the way." You said as you shook your head of the memory you'd been lost in "I'm genuinely scared of breastfeeding her now. What if she bites my nipple off?"

Alarms started to ping in the room and suddenly your stomach dropped. You were ushered out and watched through the window whilst the doctors and nurses as they did their assessments.

One came out a few minutes later, his face impassive as he opened his mouth to speak.

"His fever's spiked. It appears that he's not responding to the antibiotics so we've going to put him on a stronger course."

"What does this mean?" You asked and the doctor sighed "It's a little early to tell right now."

"That's what you say when you don't want to be honest." You scoffed, turning your head away as you took a moment to calm yourself.

"In a nutshell, it's not good." He confessed and you nodded "We need to get his temperature down or he could start to seize and his organs could start to fail. It's a critical time for him but we will do all we can."

"What caused this?" You asked, your throat tightening as you glanced at Frankie.

"Likely infection from the surgery." He stated, "Unfortunately it's not uncommon and the fact he's not responding to the antibiotics just makes the situation worse."

"Right." You nodded, trying your hardest to keep yourself together.

"As I said, we are doing all we can."

You nodded and watched as the doctor left. You were fed up with all of this. You were hurting in so many ways but you had to be strong. You wanted to scream and shout and tell Frank how angry you were.

But you also wanted him to wake up so you could kiss him breathless and tell him you loved him.

If you were being honest with yourself. You didn't know how things were going to be when this was all over. Frankie had still broken your trust and despite all that was happening right now, you still couldn't move past that. You didn't really want to think about any of that right now.

You wanted to think that you could move on. Put it all behind you and be the happy family that up until a month ago, you were. The more you dwelled the more you wondered why he'd even risked it in the first place. You weren't short on money. You both lived comfortably so why? Why had he thought that doing this was worth the risk?

So you knew that there was no moving past this. There was no forgiving and forgetting.

A storm was on the horizon.

~

It was another two weeks before Frank woke up. You stood there and watched as they removed his breathing tube before explaining the possible side effects he might suffer from. They'd informed you that he'd likely be released in a few days as long as he didn't suffer and complications and then they left you stood in that hall. Staring at the doorway and willing yourself to walk through it but you knew that when you did, there was no going back. You were numb as you walked into his room and your eyes locked.

This was it.

You'd imagined this moment over and over in your mind for the past three weeks but now that you were here, you had no idea what to say to him. A mixture of emotions washed over you.

Relief that he was alive.

Sadness that now, you had to face the music.

And Anger, the one that had now consumed you whole the moment you'd seen him lying there awake.

"How are you?" He asked as you continued to stand there and stare at him.

You said nothing. You had nothing to say. So you just stood there staring at him and watching him squirm under the intensity of your gaze. You thought about what Will had said to you all those weeks ago. You thought about the hurt you'd had to bury down for weeks now as you sat vigil and did your job as his wife. You held his hand, talked to him, reminisced with him and found that despite it all. All the love you had for him and all that the two of you now shared together, you couldn't move past the lies and deceit.

"Baby please say something." He rasped and you snapped out of your daze "I'm so sorry." He continued after a beat "I fucked up I know and I have some explaining to do but-"

"I want a divorce."

Next

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[twentyyearstoolate]

You sense movement behind a pillar in the Vigilant Citadel. Bold, to go straight to the heart of the operation, even with The Guardian occupied. You play along. "Show yourself, whoever you are!" Smokescreen steps out from his hiding spot. "Well, well, well, Shield Maiden! What's a nice girl like you doing in a dump like this? And..." He looks around in mock surprise. "...All alone, Girl Blunder? Shield-Daddy stepped out for a bit? Nobody to rescue you from certain death this time?" He grins, pulling a capsule from his belt. "Ah yes, that's right! He must be occupied with my Wispbots in... Greenfield? Neotropolis? Port Freeside? Or perhaps all three? You'll have to forgive me, my memory is a bit... FOGGY!"

He cackles maniacally as throws down the capsule, and the room is engulfed in toxic fog. For the rest of the Crusaders, this might be a problem. But for you? Still, it's a little early to give up the game. You pretend to struggle to hold your breath. Hell, you make a show of your choking and coughing as you pull out your rebreather. These villain types eat that shit up.

"You'll never get away with this, Smokescreen!"

"Oh, but I think you'll find I already have, Shield-Sister!" The conceited fool. He's always been too vain, or too stupid, to realize that talking gives away his position in the fog. "That caped cad won't be back for hours, and when he does return, he'll find his poor ward reduced to gibbering insanity, if he's lucky! I w- HHGK!" His eyes bug out as you grip his neck.

"God, I am so fucking sick of the way you talk."

You throw him against the far wall. You can't see the impact, but you hear a gruesome crack, and he screams out in anguish.

"What's wrong, Smoke? No quippy comeback? No more aces up your sleeve?"

You see a lump as the fog begins to clear, scrambling away as best he can on one leg, desperately fishing for something in his jacket pocket. Several shots ring out and strike your forehead. He's a good shot. But it's as ineffective as the gas.

You chuckle. "Really? A gun? Didn't think you were the sort for something so... mundane."

"STAY BACK!" He's panicked. He's never been hurt like this before. Vic didn't have it in him. But you do, and then some. He cowers in the corner. "What are you?"

"I'm not entirely certain myself, to tell you the truth. Maybe I got zapped by strange rays at the hospital, or some bug bit me in the crib. Maybe it's just a weird one-in-a-million genetic quirk. My parents didn't know what to make of it either, but they loved me all the same. But a kid like me? People began to notice. We'd have to flee every so often when they started whispering. After the first couple of times, I did my best to hide it. But all it took was one slip-up."

You grip his collar and pull him in close. He flinches. "I hated it. It was awful. Uprooting every few years, having to make new friends, under a new name. And my folks, well, it was harder and harder on them to keep up the charade every time. I got cornered by a group of OSA goons one night. They didn't anticipate just how powerful I was at that point. I ran away from the carnage, let everyone think I had died too. I hated to leave mom and dad, but with the government watching, I knew it'd be safer that way."

He tries to stab you with a pocket knife. It pierces through the shield emblem on your suit, but blunts on your skin. You don't even feel it. "I grew my hair out, started wearing different clothes. Resorted to stealing. Got caught by The Guardian, of all people. He had watched me scale a fire escape effortlessly, and slip through the shadows, out of sight of the cameras. I told him my parents were dead, had been for a while. He saw what he wanted to - a natural athlete with intuition and no family, the makings of a good sidekick. It's a fulfilling gig, all things considered. I'm fed, clothed and sheltered, the state doesn't pry into the lives of The Crusaders, and nobody bats an eye at the odd cracked rib or dislocated shoulder in this line of work when I forget the kid gloves. I don't think even he knows - If he does, he hasn't logged it anywhere like he does with the rest of us."

Smokescreen tries fruitlessly to wriggle out of your grasp. You grab his skull with your free hand and force him to look at you. "He's a good man. They all are. They maybe take the whole superhero persona schtick a bit too seriously, but the people latch on to symbols like that."

You frown. "...But they're too forgiving for their own good. Not me. And don't get me wrong, I'm all for second chances, but this will be your, what, twenty-seventh? No, twenty-eighth, now. No matter how many times we do this dance, you still keep hurting people. Not anymore."

He's pale as a ghost now. "P-please, don't kill me! I'm begging you! I'll change, I'll stop-"

You've heard it all before. You crush his windpipe. His eyes glaze over as he goes limp. You drag him outside and huck his body far into the Horizon. You're sure days, maybe weeks from now, someone on an oil rig or trawler will find him floating - An apparent casualty of one of the rival villain gangs, or maybe of the family of one of his many victims. Or they won't, and he'll sink into the ocean as the world slowly forgets about him and his latest attack. Who's to say?

You return inside, scrub the camera footage, and pull a trusty mop and bucket out of a closet. By the time the blood's cleaned up, the fans have nearly cleared the smoke out. Good. You'd hate for a guy like Vic to get caught in this stuff in his own hideout.

As you're putting away the mop, you see another shadow out of the corner of your eye. Here we go again. "Show yourself, whoever you are!"

The Blue Baron steps into the light dramatically with a net gun. Always these people with the theatrics. "There's no escape, Shield Maiden!" You sigh and crack your knuckles. Two in the same day will be suspicious, and The Guardian is probably already on his way back. You might have to throw this one.

When the villain only found you, the hero’s sidekick, in the hero’s hideout they thought that this was going to be easy. You are excited as well, because finally there is no-one there to hold you back.

[mouthfulloftoothpasterry]

Hooked

Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other. 

warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth. 

Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.

Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.

He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.

Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.

Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.

“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.

Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.

“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.

“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.

Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.

Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.

“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.

Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.

Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.

“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.

“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“

“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.

“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.

Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!

**

Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.

Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!

Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.

He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.

That sounds good ☺️ see you then!

Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.

****************************

The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.

He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.

He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.

She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.

“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”

Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.

Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.

Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.

They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.

“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.

“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I’m just behind honest!”

Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.

Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.

They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.

“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.

Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.

And now he’s hooked on her.

Tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh

If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥