#thats just want to scream so bad out of frustration and anger

[disastersteps]

3 and 19 for the oc asks if you’re up for it!

3) What is your OC's fatal flaw? Are they aware of this flaw

Their fatal flaw is being vulnerable for caring too much and they knew this. They are aware of this and it was why they closed it up, shut it down, keep it tightly into their heart's grave, no one need to know, no one knew they cares too much, so much that they would willing to die for others.

19) How does your OC behave when enraged?

Fists tightly, shoulders shaking, and their eyes widen with rage. They don't shout, they just grind their teeth, a silent anger boiling in their stomach as they march on. and they will scream. damned every part of their body if broken or not, they will throw themself to fight. damned being cautious and imposing, damn it. they will not hesitate to charge in especially if it was the last straw for them.

With their telepathy (and ofc the telepathy booster if they're Harbinger), they will get you. Hands on you. eyes on you. don't you fucking dare!

[satansappendix]

fhrrrerrhrhghrgegheehehewehthete5eg

[onestepbackwards]

been thinking about how different a self aware!volo would be with a player who has already played PLA before who isn't gonna fall for the ginkgo merchant's little trick. at first, volo first confronts you in jubilife, that big ol grin plastered on his face. at first, he greets rei/akari. but he can't help but notice the OTHER person thats next to them, who's just looking at him with narrowed eyes and a disapproving expression. you. obviously, volo just ignores that and shrugs it off as something that he saw because he ate something bad. but his vision of you is still very present in his mind. what did he do to get such a cold shoulder from you? the skyfaller seemed to be totally fine with him, but you looked at him like he just insulted your entire bloodline. of course, the same cycle of "greet, sneer, ignore, repeat" continues for some time, volo's curiousity and desperation to what he (probably) did only reaching more and more heights as he tries to make it up to you on each attempt. of course, the whole "banishment from jubilife" thing happens. with volo being the first to try and give you closure after being tossed out like that, he sees it as an attempt to make up for what he thinks he did. unfortunately for him, you decided to stop the cycle and just tell him out front about his little clever plan. the plates. giratina. mountain coronet. you already knew about it from first glance. and every single gear in volo's mind comes to a complete stop. at first, he is dismissive to your claims. him? betray YOU? not in a million years! but deep down in his mind, he is screaming. how did you know? how COULD you have known? did he make it seem to obvious? are you a psychic? he is frustrated. angered. yet at the same time, he is scared. scared of you. obviously, no ordinary skyfaller would've known about his little deal with giratina. you're something else. after the whole ordeal, volo walks away. with nowhere else to go, you decide to do the same thing you did on your previous playthrough and fight volo once your team is strong enough to counter his AND to ward off giratina. but once you reach mountain coronet's top, you find him in that (rather ridiculous) arceus wardrobe, bowing down once he saw you arrived. he referred to you as an all-knowing deity, powerful enough to even see through HIM in order to figure out his scheme. and that to think that he was capable enough of tricking YOU.. what a fool he was. he was at your mercy. while the option of "killing" him popped in your mind, you simply shrugged it off. he wasn't worth the effort. he thanks you for showing him mercy and forgiveness, but not without you telling him that if he ever pulls that stuff again, you won't be so forigivng next time. he bows yet again, and heads off to wherever the wind will take him.

Volo, surprised: “How did you know about my plan?”

You, not on your first playthrough: “Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy.”

Honestly its something that would bother the hell out of him. How you seem just… suspicious of him, or annoyed. What did he do!?

Then when you reveal his plan, it haunts him for days. How. How the hell did you know.

Judging by how you reacted to him since you met, you’ve known this whole time.

So it occurs to him.

Maybe, just maybe, you were the real thing. The real god. He’s seen how you interact with the world, watching from a distance.

Hopefully, you’d accept his apology. Accept he wanted to worship you now.

No wonder Arceus ignored him. If you were the true god, then he didn’t want the attention of a false idol anyway

[penaltyboxboxbox]

okay i need to yell about the current charlos worldstate because im thinking so many insane and beautiful things rn but basically

okay okay rambling under the cut

LIKEEEEEEE idk obvs i am sad for the rarris and i want them to do well but its times when the failure appears that reminds me of whyyyy i find charlos so interesting

like they truly do have such a charming dynamic, they have fun together they laugh they find a lot of similarities in one another, and we joke we joke about how charles is like the nagging girlfriend at times and carlos the playfully bullying boyfriend its qualities that when we push into the more like. chaotic and bad side of the ship thats just so WOW

like we already see this weekend a bit of heat from charles that bit of annoyance but hes too polite too nice you get bits of passive aggression here and there he is so housewife coded....

so much of why i like charlos is in all honesty like. using one another as a channel for the frustration towards the team. solace in one another, someone else who UNDERSTANDS, who gets the way youre feeling towards the car towards the team etc etc etc... and it can be so sweet and soft and caring and it can also be sooo toxic and codependent and strange

i love a ship that feels like an uncomfortable marriage but theyre staying together because thats what they committed to. because theyre perfect for each other, duh. he understands what no one else does.

just like picturing charles after he spins out, just waiting watching and brewing full of just. annoyance and shame and sadness and anger but charles doesnt blow up, charles looks pitiful, just a race incident, no one to blame. (no one but himself of course the voice in the back of his head says) and carlos has it all on his shoulders the rest of the way. just trying to get something, anything for the team and he does. until he doesnt and again its not fair none of it's fair and he cant do anything lest it gets worse and they both fail in such spectacularly different directions and if that doesn't describe them so well what does.

The idea of finding comfort in one another against mutual failing, really being them taking out the frustrations on one another. Tell yourselves you just need a rough fuck to feel better but both knowing............charles knowing its punishment, its get better, its be smarter, it hurts and he should say something but be wont because he needs to be BETTER. and for carlos its release but not comfort its release in the way smashing in a window is, slashing a tire, screaming expletives at a retail worker who cant talk back, its taking back some scrap of power to make up for it all. and they tell themselves it helps, they come, they lay in each others arms afterwards and they do it again next time they fail. same failed strategy same failed result.

just a cycle of using each other for harm and calling it comfort but not knowing how to go on without it...its reliable thats for sure 👬 and you push down the guilt or the shame of what you did you ignore the bruises and the words you said and the things you begged for and pretend you dont hold it against him in any way but youve learned nothing can truly be trusted around here!!!! but thats a failure you'll reach when you get to it for now youre apart you'll lick your wounds and come back smiling hand in hand laughing at each others jokes staring lovingly at his smile running your fingers through his hair and for a while the car wont matter until it does . amen.

[pauls1967moustache]

Something you posted a while back has really stayed with me and i cant stop thinking about it. Its the idea that most people have this idea that Paul can't say no? Like i don't believe it but in the case the small chance that he did say 'no i don't like you like that' to John in India so many people have this idea that he's totally in the wrong for that? that he had to say yes and its so strange to me? and its actually so upsetting tbh and that's me not me being a no.1 Paul fan that twink deserves death more often than not or to be put in his place even now as an old bingo granny, id take the thickener out of his soup if i could but i really think it relates back to a lot of the feminisation/misogynistic attention he gets. Especially that one quote by certified Beatles writer that describes HDYS as something a scorned lover would write to show he would never be rejected again and its like ??? Paul is allowed to say no? hes very much allowed to not want a relationship? he's allowed to reject it and again its a roundabout way of misogyny with the idea when a woman rejects someone oh she'll be sorry because he'll spend the rest of his time saying mean things about her to everyone who will listen, and just how much she's in the wrong for not wanting/liking them like that, how she is such a bad person because she made him sink that low and do something he later 'regrets'. It's just really strange and sad to me cause again i don't think thats what happened but it the reaction that John was allowed to scream and be angry about it, he was allowed to write piece after piece especially 71 John he was allowed to be angry (and he was yeah) but Paul is never really allowed that same treatment? and even now he gets the treatment of ex-wife who really broke his now dead husbands heart and has to spend the rest of his life 'fixing' that. You can even see it a bit with the way they talk about George and Pauls relationship too the way they use constant femanising language in a derogatory way (bossy, irrational, controlling) to show just how much Paul isn't allowed to be angry and upset the same way they are he has to deal with it

i mean i don't think there was any rejection in india to speak of so this is purely hypothetical nonsense to me anyway, but yeah, i do think it's a silly way to look at it.

i think there's an argument to made like: john and paul's relationship had this weird romantic element to it already, and paul saying no is him kind of leading john on but refusing to ackowledge the truth of what they are - which would be frustrating from john's pov, i get that. the thing about that is that it's not something anyone on tumblr.com/dashboard actually knows for a fact, it's just emotional conjecture a bunch of people decided to project on. which is why the whole paul rejection theory irritates me so much. like yeah! he actually can say no, if that is what he felt! he's not required to be in love with john just because we all want him to be! (not to mention, that if there was a situation where he did reject john, i do not think that's the kind of thing he'd do lightly and without guilt, regardless of any added guilt john would make him feel by being mad about it). it's just a very unkind and reductive way to look at the very real love that DID exist between them, romantic or not. they cared about each other so much. it would be a cruel way for john to treat paul, and it's a cruel way to read into paul's treatment of john.

and i think the other side of it is that a lot of paul's sense of anger and his own feelings of rejection during that whole mess gets overshadowed in the john/paul/yoko triangle. paul was quieter about his anger because john already chose to be with yoko and he didn't feel he had a right to fight that. and the fandom cannot talk about it because half the time it's tied up in the very real mysogyny yoko faced as the face of The Thing That Broke Up The Beatles (even if she isn't), so paul's anger just kind of goes unacknowledged here in relation to john's.

[kelloggsenthusiast]

If montell fish songs were angst stories: Talk 2 me

The heaviness in my chest grew progressively worse with every passing second. Sascha wasn't home yet, but he said he'd be here over two hours ago. I ran my hand over his pillow, longingly.

It was no secret that Sascha's and my relationship was not in a good place. We could barely sit together for an hour without fighting over something stupid, ranging from my insecurities to his jealousy and possessiveness. We couldn't agree on anything anymore, always having conflicting views and opinions and it was straining our relationship. It was so bad that we could go on for days without speaking to each other. In the four years we'd been together, this had never happened. Of course we fought like any normal couple, but it wasn't as bad as tonight.

He took me to the Opera for a show and we stayed for the subsequent cocktail party. It was at the party that someone approached us and asked to talk to him. I didn't mind, so I let her. It was only a few moments later that I realized that the person was his ex girlfriend. My head snapped in the direction of where they went and I curtly excused myself from the circle of people Sascha and I were talking to.

A dull ache developed in my chest with every step I took towards the corridor they ran off to. I found Alex and the girl- alone- and speaking in hushed tones. Her hands were on his chest and around his shoulders and his hands were idly at his sides.

Blinded by my anger, I fled from there. I heard Sascha call after me but i just kept moving. The lights were brighter, the sounds were louder and the pain was more intense. I felt like dying. I made my way out of the opera house and onto the pavement. I placed a hand over my chests the anger gave way to bone crushing pain. I heaved a sob before covering my mouth.

"Meine Liebe," I hear Sascha say as I feel his hands wrap around my shoulders.

I pull away and wipe my tears frantically, thanking God for waterproof makeup.

"I'm fine, in sorry," I say, my voice still thick with tears.

"You're not okay, Ma-"

"I said I'm fine. Let's go back. Rafa and the others will be looking for us," I say, getting ready to go back.

"For God's sake, Max, do something. React. Scream. Cry, anything. I'm tired of you being so goddamn passive!" He shouts. I turn to face him slowly, trying to control the simmering anger I feel.

"What exactly do you want me to do, Alex? How do you want me to react? For fucks sake, I'm tired, okay? There, I said it! I hate that your Goddamn ex is ruining everything we've built and I can't do anything because you're letting her-"

"Dont you fucking assume I'm cheating on you, Maxine."

"How am I not to assume, Alex? You said you broke up with her long ago but why is she here? What was she going to do to you? What were you about to let her do to you?"

" Fuck, Max, it's not even like that. Four years we've been together! You know me better than anyone else and you know I'd never do that to you. I'd never let it go there."

" Well, lately I don't know the man I've been laying next to at night."

"Thats rich, considering I've had to force you to open up to me."

I scoff and turn around, heading back to the party. I find Rafa and tell him I'm leaving. Alexander materializes besides me and his hand is on the small of my back. To them, we are a happy couple.

It cannot change.

The drive home is awkward and painfully silent. I run through the argument in my head and regret immediately seizes me. I want to apologize because, ultimately, I'm the one in the wrong. I never open up to him and tell him what's on my mind and in my heart.

He's frustrated, and rightfully so.

Back at our apartment, he changes into his tennis clothes, grabs his duffle bag and tells me he'll be home in an hour.

I roll over to his side of the bed and inhale. It's been a little over four hours since he left. My eyes fill with tears and I feel sincere remorse for how I've been treating him.

My own issues and insecurities shouldn't interfere with our relationship. I simply love him too much to lose him over something this trivial.

I pretended to be asleep while cuddling his pillow when he finally arrived minutes later. I heard him shower and move around the apartment before joining me in bed.

"I wish you could talk to me, like you used to. I love you, Max," he says before kissing my forehead and falling asleep besides me.

[puppysdog]

fuck all your haters, tell me about your saw-sona

FUCK YEAHHHH ok under the cut cause its probably gonna be long + saw trap details

Her name is Isabella, Izzy for short and preferred. Shes in her mid 20s, home cut choppy straight black hair thats a bit past her shoulders with short bangs. Her style id say is a bit casual 2000s goth/emo (big cargo pants + tight black shirt, black choker, fingerless gloves, big work boots). personality wise shes very nervous/paranoid and has pretty rapid mood swings from being antsy to extreme anger. after she gets out of her trap she gains a little more confidence and channels her anger better, but still isnt the best at speaking up or talking without tripping over her words

her backstory is shes still living at home with her abusive dad and is a prop designer for a small theatre company. shes had a long history of abusive partners and hanging out with manipulative “friends” and such, as well as some pretty severe substance issues. she never tried to solve her problems and instead ran away from everything but still came back to the same bad situations. after driving off crying upset and angry and inebriated after a fight with her dad, she ends up running over (basically bisecting) a pedestrian that ended up being some doctor that was supposed to perform an organ transplant thatd save someones life, leading to two deaths total. she gets away with it in court through sleazy lawyers arguing things like the pedestrian wasnt on a crosswalk and etc.

Amanda is the one that chooses her for one of Kramers traps. i think amanda has a bit of a soft side for her considering her circumstances, but kramer is still the one who makes the trap. the best way i can describe it is its like a giant clock with a vertical pole in the middle. Izzy is attached to the pole by her ankles being chained, her neck being chained, and a long rebar wrapped once around her torso. the rebar extends out to a gear wheel at the edge of the clock, so when the gear wheel starts to move, the rebar begins to wrap around the center (aka where Izzy is trapped). In front of her hanging from the ceiling is the jigsaw tape and a tire iron. extended out of her reach and a bit lower hanging from the ceiling is an off switch. the switch is only reachable by leg length. to escape her trap, she has to break her foot out of the chains by bashing it with the tire iron, and slamming it against the off button. during her trial after she debates in throwing the tire iron at the switch, but realizes if she misses she’ll have no backup plan. she begins to bash her foot, but the tire iron slips from her hands anyways. at this point, she has about a minute left before the rebar wraps tight enough around her to break her ribs and crush her insides. frustrated and screaming that she was going to do it and that she doesnt want to die, she twists and snaps her already damaged ankle out of the chains, and flings her leg forwards, disarming the trap. she makes it out with one severly fucked up foot and a couple of broken ribs. shes wheelchair bound for a bit after and eventually switches to a cane

shes very eagerly takes on the role of John’s apprentice as she sees him not killing her as one of the first kindnesses in her life, and she immediately wants to put her dad in a trap. her traps are decently theatrical due to her prop making skills with a rube Goldberg style premise to them, but they arent always the most stable (at least once or twice has one broken/a victim has broken it)

like i said earlier she gets along with Amanda pretty well. they dont see each other as a threat to John’s legacy since Izzy is just fine with being a follower with no want to actually become Jigsaw, and Amanda is empathetic towards her problems and the fact that shes younger

her and hoffman do NOT get along. hoffman already disliked her based on the fact that amanda chose her, and isnt a fan of her erratic behavior which he considers a liability. she hates him on instinct and doesnt believe he understands kramers ideals, and despises him even more after learning about him switching amandas letter post johns death. he definitely tries to kill her and vice versa after kramer dies

her and john get along great. he has empathy for her being younger and is proud of how she escaped her trap + believes she understands his ideals. its very saw x kramer and amanda relationship but shes a little more obsessive over him and sees him as a mentor figure

her and gordon end up teaming up after kramers death and get along decent. she believes he understands john’s ideals and feels fine following him, theyre both in the fucked up foot club, and both want hoffman dead. shes sees him sort of as a fatherly figure and he sees her kind of as a daughter figure but their work is too fucked up to fully establish that

since im an adam is alive truther and he also works for gordon, i think Izzy and him get along fine as well. they definitely have nasty t4t sex

hehe anyways ty for asking :)

[heystephen]

** idk if ur ok with me venting but i dont know people w bpd to relate with irl so feel free to ignore me i dont mind **

i have bpd. ive been trying to be more open about my mental health recently because for a long long time i never talked ab it to anyone and the other day i talked about it to my friend and then today she was like “me and *my name* have the same brand of mental illness” because she goes on tinder to get attention from guys and that just. made me irrationally angry. like last week i googled how to give myself appendicitis so i could both get out of work and get attention so people feel bad for me and then felt intense self loathing and guilt for it 🧍‍♀️ thats not the same to me. i wanted to scream because im so tired of how mental health talk has in some ways made people think that very normal behavior is actually “mental illness uwu” but if i bring up my mental health people actively stop being friends with me because they think im crazy (which is why i dont talk about it much)

i completely understand what you mean and your frustration. especially with bpd, it feels like people can never fully grasp the hell that we deal with mentally and emotionally on a constant basis— and it’s not for lack of trying, i’m sure that your friend really thought that she was relating to you (for better or worse), but to someone who’s never experienced bpd, it’s just impossible to understand. it’s a very isolating experience because of how intense it comes off to others who don’t understand, and i’m sorry that you’re feeling that sort of isolation right now and difficulty to relate to; your anger wasn’t irrational in that situation, like your frustration was 100% justified. sending you a gentle hug and all the understanding i can. ❤️‍🩹

[fuckzachariah]

Zach couldn’t focus. On anything. He tried to discern the girl’s body language, her expressions, but she only came to him in jagged, high-contrast cuts of vision, vibrating and bursting at the sides of his head. The line for the club got too loud, strangers mistaking their interaction for an innocent fan-and-celebrity exchange, taking it as an open invite curbside meet and greet. Closing in on all sides. He felt fucking nuts. He tittered up and down the bowl of a valley, always somewhere between violence and mania. The drugs started to feel bad. That wouldn’t fly. He needed something else, more. “What?” he frowned, shaking his head like an involuntary tic. “Her interest isn’t important. Thats not what this is.” He felt himself growing irritated, incapable of even distracting himself with the attractive but foreign make up of this tightrope of a woman.

She smiled, he thought. Maybe she did. And she agreed. Agreed to try? He turned as she turned, leaning through his car to get to the glovebox and fish out a box of old cigarettes. With one hanging from his lips, he checked for a light and failed, groaning in frustration, then snuck a bump under the guise of the door. A throaty sigh of relief rattled up from his chest and he took a euphoric beat, letting it spin through his veins like gold. He turned back on a pivot, startling the small pocket of folks gathering nearby. “Anyone got a lighter?” And three appeared within seconds. He took one, lit his cigarette, relished in the feeling of his empty, empty body inflating with all the rot he force-fed it. “Thanks - no - no, don’t fucking talk to me. Thanks for that, though.”

The girl appeared again, towering with not just her natural height but her impossibly high heels over the crowd, and Zach erected in response. Behind her, a much smaller woman, hair to her hips and her hips so visible through her dress it might’ve wrecked him if he weren’t already in disrepair. Seeing Alex was like being slapped; he remembered everything, all at once, a fucking train running straight through his chest. Their fight. The last thing he said to her. Her leaving. The numbness. How fucking boring and bleak it all got. His mom, his mom, his fucking mother. His never-should’ve-been-a-mother. So unbelievably selfish, so cruel; the child that had to be his, the child he didn’t want but couldn’t let her have. “Fuck,” he muttered, throwing the half-burned thing to the ground. Her face fell when she saw him, then gave way to something worse; anger. She hated him. Didn’t even want to see him, speak to him. But he needed her, he’d need her forever. Didn’t she know that? Didn’t she need him too? Zach abandoned his car with the door hanging ajar, coming up hot on her tail. He reached to grab her then jerked back as though scolded, thinking better of it. She’d hate that too.

“Ale,” he began, skirting around her and blocking her path. She looked beautiful, but ruined. Red eyes and a swollen mouth, lip gloss halfway up her face, dress strap hanging like a hammock from her shoulder. “Alex.” He hadn’t gotten this far in his mind. He hadn’t planned for this part. Words evaded him as he sought desperately after them, trying to configure any combination at all that might convince her to get into his car with him so he could just talk it through. Talk it out. Scream. He needed her. Wasn’t that the gist? “I need-” that wasn’t right. She’d only assume he was begging for her back, which she’d refuse. But he couldn’t say it here, not in front of strangers. In front of anyone but her. He cleared his throat, head twitching involuntarily. He sniffed. “I need. To be fucking selfish right now. Okay? I can’t say - here -” he glanced over her shoulder to all the onlookers. “Please. Can you just come with me? Please?”

Naomi’s brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to decipher. His movements were unnaturally sharp and disconnected, prompting her to recall the rumors she had heard about him. While her father had retired from Hollywood, she continued to savor the perks of his past, attending opulent partiers and premieres, mingling with today’s most influential figures. It was known that Zach Winthrop had a penchant for certain substances, so it came as no surprise to her that he appeared under the influence now. Sobriety, she believed, was a façade – something PR teams spoon-fed to the media to salvage a tarnished reputation. He was no different. As he removed his designer sunglasses, her suspicions were confirmed. His pupils were mere pinpricks, his eyes red and glazed over. She nodded subtly, acknowledging that despite being complete strangers to one and other they already shared a lot in common. Observing him swiftly put each member of security in their place with his degrading threats, she understood why Alex had chosen not to respond to his messages. His arrogance likely held no appeal to her friend, but Naomi found it strangely enticing.

He turned back to her and with each uttered word, her confusion deepened. He spoke of her best friend as if he knew her intimately, demanding her presence as if he had a right to it. “I can try. You know how she is. Right now, I’ve gathered that she’s uninterested.” Alex had not responded to single message, yet he seemed oblivious to the hint. Perhaps she was one of those all-too-common celebrity figures who could not accept rejection. If he didn’t know Alex, he was in for a real treat. Naomi’s eyes narrowed to near slits, her full lips shaping into a fiendish grin. This promised to be entertaining. “I’ll see what I can do.” She turned on her heel, effortlessly bypassing a long line of waiting patrons to return to the nightclub. Naomi paid the situation little mind. Surely if Alex were involved with Zach Winthrop, she would have said something by now. He wasn’t even her type, but Naomi anticipated getting a kick out of watching her petite companion embarrass him in front of everyone. A bit of humbling might do him well. The music pulsed throughout the vibrant club, bodies sweaty and swaying in unison on the dancefloor. Naomi slipped between them, making her way back to their private section, finding Alex exactly where she left her.

Only now, she sat on this stranger’s lap, enveloped in a full-on embrace. Naomi playfully rolled her eyes, her hand curling around Alex’s shoulder to capture her attention. “Ale,” she called out, but Alex remained fully engaged in the kiss, blissfully unaware of her presence. “Alex,” her voice grew firmer, yanking her backward. “I have a surprise for you. Come.” She gestured towards the exit with a tilt of her head. Alex turned, in a drug-induced haze and refused to move her perch. “Let’s go. Come on,” Naomi insisted. The brunette rose reluctantly to her feet, gently wiping the back of her hand across her mouth. Her lip gloss had transferred to her cheek, leaving the rest smeared over her date’s lips, face, and neck. Alex glimpsed behind her, a pining smile stretching from ear to ear. “What could possibly be more important than this? A paid-for trip to rehab?” She mouthed that she would be back briefly, encouraging him to stay. Naomi laughed, “If you go, then that means I have to. This is a little more fun for both of us.” She steered them back toward the exit doors, a cool brisk air welcoming them as they stepped out onto the pavement.

Alex lifted her head, the breath caught in her throat. What the fuck was he doing here? She locked eyes with him, and the emotions she had fiercely suppressed throughout the night began to surface, piercing through the haze of inebriation. Not a single one of them positive. She turned to Naomi, her neck arching back in disbelief. Her eyes were wide. “You invited him here?” Alex scoffed, her tongue finding a home in the side of her cheek. Without waiting for a response, she turned to stride toward the valet booth, “Fuck this.”

[prettyboykatsuki]

cw ;; deku in love w u, cheating (kinda..? u break up w him over the phone like. right before), oral (f!recieving), fem reader, 

hey guys i can’t stop thinking about deku who hates the guy you’re seeing so this is coming out of me..

i really just. i bet it’s hard for deku not to like someone. after all - he puts up with bkg even now, as much of a brat as he is. deku was raised with a mother and is a patient man. when he saves people - victims, and they cry and kick and scream, he doesn’t even get upset. it’s hard to push his buttons - calm and collected and a nervous wreck but not angry. never angry. never raises his voice. 

even his anger has a patience to it - and you think that’s a feat. you’ve only seen him get really mad before once, in a fight. it’s icy, that kind of seething feeling. its an anger for justice and it’s a quality you admire in him. you wish that you had the emotional intelligence to feel your feelings how he does. you like that about him. 

you wouldn’t call deku your best friend. but he’s a good friend, a really good friend. maybe someone you pined after in highschool - maybe even before than. you’ve always admired him but somewhere along the way you two became friends, enough so that it’s weird for you now. you couldn’t possible admit your attraction so with a heavy heart, you keep him at arms legnth. he knows you well but you tell yourself that’s how he is with everyone. it’s deku. 

now adults and with lives to live separately - you go into your field of choice and deku becomes a pro. you see him less and less but he makes time for you. again - it’s just something you do. you appreciate that he cares enought about you to do so. and it’s not like you have any idea that his friends only hear from him half the time you do. you don’t think anything of it, and you shake off the thoughts of him that haunt you when you’re awake in the middle of the night 

the kind of thoughts that having you sticking a hand in your shorts - saying you’ll sleep right after. you try. and fail. but normally after you’re too tired to dwell. it happens for a while. 

maybe you’re just frustrated. that’s so possible. it’s hard for you to get out these days - you’re lonely. you’re sure. 

it takes no time at all for you to download tinder in shame. sitting with wine and a your phone - you scroll and scroll and land on somebody named nakamura and he seems so nice. he is nice to you - charming and witty. handsome and a nice build. a good job. stable. 

you get to talking an in no time at all you have a date. and a week passes and you go on the date and it’s good - not perfect but not bad. you think to yourself there’s something off about him, arrogant but you look past it. you sleep with him and it’s just okay. and it doesn’t get rid of deku in your dreams, caressing you in your sleep. you have a wet dream.. you didn’t even know you could have those. 

but you decide to see it through - for so long you date this man for almost half a year. he’s not perfect but what relationships are, really? he treats you okay though you wish he would pay a bit more attention. he spoils you with lavish gifts and nice dinners but you’d rather just hang out on the weekend and - 

you see it through. and he meets your friends and they hate him but you tell them they don’t get it. eventually you get around to deku and you don’t think twice about the encounter until it happens. 

just a dinner with a few from your highschool group - uraraka and todoroki and iida. and you can feel it off of deku - you can see that ice that you haven’t seen in so long. he’s being ncie but there’s more to it. it’d be undetectable to anyone who doesn’t know him, like your new boyfriend. but to you it’s obvious. 

you don’t say anything to your boyfriend. but you decide to be with deku alone the next day - ask if he’s free. at the end of the day you still care about deku.. you care so much. so you meet up the next day for lunch and he looks.. off. distant. there but not. 

“izuku.. what’s up with you?,” 

he gives you a painful sigh. he seems sad.. seems frustrated about something. a little strain in his voice. 

“you know i always respect you and your choices. i’ll always support you but.. i just don’t think that guys good for you,” 

you feel defensive. you are defensive. 

“you don’t even know him..’zuku. he’s a nice guy,” 

he sighs, attaches your name in a disappointed voice. it makes your heartache. 

“i don’t understand it. not at all,” 

“you don’t need too,” 

you’re about to cut the lunch short, standing up and getting read to leave but deku pulls you back to your seat. he looks at you, strained. upset. 

“just. be honest. why? it’s not like you,” 

you can’t help but be honest with him. it’s so hard for you to lie so you don’t. you swallow something in your throat 

“im.. i was trying to get over someone,” 

he looks surprised. 

“... who..? did it.. did it work?” 

“it doesn’t matter,” 

everything stops. and there’s something in his eyes again. the only thing deku is selfish in is you - the only weakness he’s ever felt. and in the moment he can feel it, all those feelings he can’t seem to break free from. 

“who,” 

“damn it, izuku - it’s you! it’s.. it’s you,” 

and that’s how it all happens - why you called your boyfriend in the middle of the afternoon after pulling into a hotel with deku behind you. his hands on your waist, voice in your ear. 

“tell him you’re breaking up with him,’ ― a soft whisper in your ear ― “for me.. go on,” 

and you don’t have much of a choice when deku’s mouth in your skin. you can barely surpress a moan as he kiss your spine, licks up your neck with something inside of him. he gets you undressed and your phone is tossed and forgotten about. and whatever plans you had for the day disappear too. 

instead deku fulfills those nasty little dreams you had. something about his touch makes you confess things you’d never dream. with every word, he moans a little. so into you. you think he gets off on how much you like him - think that’s why his cock twitches when it pushes against your thighs. he begs you tell him all the details. he wants to hear every detail from your mouth. 

he makes you. he makes you. with his tongue lapping at your clit and your orgasm in the center of his palms. with your toes curling and your body weak 

“tell me where i touched you. i’ll do it. whatever you want. just tell me,” 

he does. he touches you everywhere and asks if thats what you wanted. does it feel good? where do you need him? he has the nerve to eat you out until your toes curl and you drool and hold you down, your hips pinned to the bed as he moans into your cunt with a sweetness. calloused palms holding you down. 

you’re not surprised that he fucks you within an inch of your life. his dick is so fucking big but you’re so wet it fits right in. and he fucks you - bounces you up and down on his lap.  using your pussy like a fleshlight with the sheer force but he’s whispering in your ears. 

“you’re so pretty. take it so well. im gonna take care of you. im gonna make you feel so good” over and over on repetition. he’s making a mess out of you, melting into a puddle as you cum over and over. it’s about you and only you. that’s enough to make you feel frenzied. when he’s close - you beg him to cum inside and he groans, burying your neck and finishing inside. 

after it’s all said and done, deku cleans you up. kisses you sweetly and tells you how much he likes you. your voice is hoarse but all u do is laugh. 

“you really didn’t like him.. couldn’t even wait an hour,” 

he blushes a little. 

“... can’t say i did,”

[mishtay]

1 step forward, 3 steps back

Colby Brock x reader

A/N: first angst im so hypeddd

Got this idea while listening to the song on the title by Olivia Rodrigo and the lyrics match too so

⚠️ Trigger warnings ⚠️ : cursing, lying (idts its a trigger but yk), Colby being kinda jerky, men being trash basically.

Key:

Y/n: your name

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

Y/n didn't want this to end in a fight.

The night was going perfectly, or so she had convinced herself. She had for the first time arrived on time (a big win for her).

Y/n wouldn't say she was a jealous girlfriend. She never thought much of it when Colby liked other girls pictures on Instagram. It was normal for him to do that, she herself liked pictures of countless guys on social media, it didn't make sense to chastise him over something anyone would do.

But when Colby declined the fifth call of the night she had enough.

"Who's calling you?" She asked, teeth gritted.

"Just a friend, nothing important babe." He said calmly.

Don't be a jealous bitch Y/n she told herself in her head.

"Right. Oh so today-" she started, getting cut off by Colby's phone going off again.

Sixth time she counted in her head.

"Alright Colby this is getting too much." She stated harshly. She tried controlling her anger but she felt that if she looked in a mirror fumes would be coming out of her ears like they did in a cartoon.

"Relax babe cmon." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't 'relax babe' me Colbes! This is the sixth time your being called. Either pick up, or by God I'm going to throw that fucking phone away." She said heatedly.

"Stop making a big deal of it! You always do this." He groaned.

"Oh I always do this? Me? Who is so desperate to keep calling you anyway." She fumed.

"It's Emily." (sorry if thats ur name, just change it if it is!)

That set of an explosion.

"And you couldn't have told me?" She screamed at him.

"Yes! I knew you would over react if you found out my ex was fucking calling me and here we are." Colby shouted back.

"Its always my fault isn't it Colby?" She said, pained smile on her face.

"You know thats not what I said." He started.

"Save it babe." She laughed in disbelieve, saying the word babe like it was a cuss.

She grabbed her coat and got up from her chair.

"Thanks for the '1 year of our relationship' celebration date." She said as she left.

Colby sighed and slumped back into his chair, defeated.

His phone ringed again and he let out a frustrated shout.

"Leave me fucking alone emily." He shouted as he picked up the phone. He cut the call as soon as he picked it up and blocked his ex from calling him ever again.

"I screwed up bad." He said to the empty room.

[aerosiderwrites]

Hopeless ... Yandere Childe

@lazywriters-blog​ ooo this is a fun concept! i love unhinged childe 😌 i played down the escape to just an attempt, i hope thats ok 🙏

warnings for genre typical portrayals of unhealthy relationships, manipulation, and implied previous sexual assault

Word Count: 1.1k

Coming to Liyue Harbor might have been the worst thing that could have happened to you. You found yourself loathing every passing day, despite how much you fought and worked to get here. Or, maybe, because of that. You sat at your desk, staring at your paperwork, forcing yourself to focus on your tasks at hand. All you needed to do was fight and work more to get yourself out of the scenic coastal city the same way you came.

You could dare to hope for that, anyway. You had been doing everything you could to get away from Liyue, away from him. You weren’t sure what you’d do when you reached Snezhnaya, but it would be a start.

“And there’s my sweetheart.”

Your skin crawled as his deceptively honey sweet voice pierced through your focus. You tentatively looked up at your menace, your nightmare, your Tartaglia. You glanced up at him, taking in his tall and slender form leaning casually against the doorjamb to your office, blocking the only exit available to you. His smile was tight lipped, and your stomach sunk at the sight of him. You looked down back to your work, as if not seeing the way his cold eyes stared into you would make the anxiety he brought with him go away.

“Is there—“ you stopped yourself, mentally beating yourself for how wispy your voice sounded. You cleared your throat and started again, “Is there something I can help you with?”

You knew you couldn’t actually be paying attention to your work, but you desperately wanted him to take the hint that you’re too busy to be bothered. With the way you shook like a leaf when he surprised you, there was no way you could actually sell this narrative, but you tried so earnestly every time.

“Yes, actually,” the response came, and the sound of the door closing followed. Your heart reached your throat as you sat entirely at attention, your line of sight shooting up to watch Childe approach your desk.

“Wait, please, I really don’t have time to do anything, I have a lot on my plate right now with—“ a single look silenced you in your tracks. Your eyes returned to your desk, and you held your hands in fists on your lap.

“You act like I’ve been anything less than a perfect gentleman,” he teased, leaning on your desk in front of you, carelessly shoving aside files you had stacked neatly. “I’ve always been sure to take care of your needs.” He chuckled upon seeing you shift uncomfortably in frustrated embarrassment. “Besides, I have something important I want to discuss.”

You looked up at him, searching for anything on his features that could give away what it was he wanted to talk about. His posture was lax and his smile was the same faux grin he kept on when he wanted to tease you. You hadn’t done anything that he could have known about, but you remained at your miserable edge, hanging on his every mannerism.

“Which is…?” You asked with a slow breath, bracing yourself the best you could for the worst he’d have to offer.

“I wanted to take a moment and talk about us.”

You couldn’t stand how his eyes burned into yours, and you looked away, “Alright.”

“I love you,” Your stomach churned at his words, disgusted with how fondly he spoke of you. “I know you took some… convincing to understand the depth of my feelings, but I still find myself wondering where I stand with you.”

You recalled his “courtship”, and how he wore you down into accepting him as your lover. You felt sick with every touch, horrified with how he threatened the people around you, scaring them into cold avoidance, and hopelessness with every reminder that he maintains his final say over your life.

You wanted to be honest, to tell him the lengths you would go to if it meant he’d never bother you again. But honesty would lead to a lengthy reinforcement of Childe’s power over you. “I love you, too” came your feeble response, unfortunately unconvincing even to yourself.

“I’m happy to hear that!” Childe’s voice rang hollow, a mockery of your weak lie. “Good thing, since I declined the request for your transferal on your behalf.”

Your blood ran cold, your eyes emptily staring at your hands, now lax with your palms facing upward. You couldn’t bring yourself to be angry at him, anger would imply a form of disappointment or disbelief at his acts. You knew if he found out about your request for transferal he’d do what he needed to to stop it in its tracks. You swallowed, afraid for what was to come next.

“Now, I want you to be honest with me, [Y/N].” You watched as Childe’s hands grabbed your wrists, in a sharp motion. His large hands dwarfed yours, a further cruel reminder of your weakness to him. “Tell me if this transferal was offer to you, or if you applied for it.”

You felt so small under his gaze, and under his demand for your honesty, you didn’t know what else to do. You inhaled, “I… applied for it.”

He sighed, “I thought that might be the case. Props for trying to lose me through channels that could get me into trouble if I went too far. It wasn’t a bad plan, but not one you can try again. I’m lucky your receptionist is do honest with your secrets.”

You didn’t know whether to resent the girl who ran your front desk, or pity her. Did she naively tell her superior’s lover about the request you had her mail out weeks ago? Or was she threatened by a Harbinger with an obsession? “When did-- How did you--”

“I’m a bit insulted that you thought I wouldn’t catch wind of this. Did you think you could keep it quiet and I’d let you go quietly?” Childe took your chin in his gloved hand, his grip a casual display of his strength. Your eyes met his, and you felt everything in your body scream for you to run, or shake him off, or anything. But you were frozen, eyes carrying tears that didn’t dare slip out, caught up in his abyss of thinly veiled restraint.

“I-I’m— I’m so—“ your fearful apology was cut short by Childe’s iron grip tightening and making you wince. Childe sneered at your fear, and gripped your arm with his free hand. Your heart jumped in your throat, and the tears you struggled to hold back spilled onto your cheeks.

“No you aren’t,” his voice hit your senses like a bucket of ice water, “But you will be.”

[espressokiri]

I Love You Either Way

Izuku Midoriya x GN! Reader

For @brandmeyelena : reader loves midoriya very much and confessed, midoriya was flustered and decided to accept it (reader was ecstatic), however he has no feelings for reader at all. He doesn’t know how to break up with reader so he just lets it be.

Warnings: Angst, One sided love, Heartbreak, Death.

Genre: Angst.

(Y/n) was sorted out to be an outcast in middle school because of their interest in the quirkless boy in class. Ridicule did nothing to prevent them from getting to know the boy, intrigued in his interest in heroes and longing to be enrolled in U.A.

They were quick to defend the freckled boy when Bakugou targeted him on certain days, gazing in affection when he would go on a muttering tangent, unaware of his thoughts being said out loud. (Y/n) fell in love with the way Midoriya would not be afraid to show his vulnerability and emotions, to show them his passions and drawings of analysis. Midoriya on the other hand was in awe of gaining such a friend. 

F r i e n d.

Oh how he wished he knew the inner feelings of the one he called friend. It was not until they confessed that left him in a stuttering, red-faced daze that he realized there was hidden meaning behind (Y/n)’s gestures. Being the most observant boy meant nothing when he was dense about feelings. 

The hand brushes while walking to and from school, the small gifts he would find in his backpack from them, the lingering hugs that seem to be longer than usual.

“Izuku, I’ve admired you for a long time. Please accept my feelings!” (Y/n) was not shy while confessing, they stared Midoriya in the eyes with such passion that the male could not refuse in the state of shock he was put in. 

It did not seem to be a bad idea at the time, a relationship was forged on the foundation of friendship and they were friends already with similar interests. Midoriya brushed it off and thought he harboured the same feelings, not aware of why and how a relationship actually begins. 

(Y/n) on the other hand couldn't be happier, they seemed to glow around Midoriya and felt that they were on cloud nine on the daily. Bakugou glowered at them in class, huffing at how disgusting their relationship was.

Midoriya had dedicated a book to (Y/n) filled with sketches of them, some pages for the purpose of analyzing their quirk, other pages filled with mundane sketches of them on their adventurous dates. (Y/n) found a second home with Inko Midoriya who adored them, happy that her son was finally himself without the fear of him being bullied. 

It was when they first shared a kiss that Midoriya had come to terms with his feelings. He did not carry the same emotions for (Y/n) as they did. He felt like he would disappoint them so he kept himself quiet, wondering if they would lose feelings for him if he carried on as friends instead.

The time for U.A. came around, (Y/n) was not aware of Midoriya training with All Might. They only knew he was physically training with a ‘personal’ trainer of his. During the training period, they would make sure to cater to Midoriya’s needs, keep him hydrated and help him with homework and studies as he would fall asleep in class muttering to himself most of the time. 

Betrayal was evident during the quirk evaluation test when Midoriya seemed to showcase his quirk. He looked nervous facing both Bakugou, who was voicing his anger, and (Y/n) who had a look of disappointment hidden in their eyes. They avoided Midoriya that day, watching from afar as he happily conversed with Iida and Uraraka. 

It wasn’t until Bakugou grabbed (Y/n) by the front of their uniform and yelled at them with one hand exploding with his quirk for an explanation that Midoriya came in-between and pulled (Y/n) away. They didn’t seem to want to put up a fight with either male and allowed themselves to be dragged around. 

Midoriya ‘explained’ that he was an apparent late bloomer and thats why he was training for months, to control his quirk. (Y/n) was apprehensive but accepted his apology after he stated he didn’t tell them because he wanted to surprise them.

-

“I love you.” 

The USJ attack had (Y/n) tremble with uncertainty of their future, they said those three words to Midoriya when he woke up from being taken care of by Recovery Girl.

Midoriya just nodded his head and looked away.

(Y/n) thought nothing of it until Ochako ran to him once they reentered the class, he seemed to brighten up at the sight of her and (Y/n)’s face soured.

This event kept replaying in their mind as the days progressed. The texts became dry, the reply time took hours, calls weren’t picked up as quick as they were before. (Y/n) could feel the distance between them but they didn’t want to give up, no, they held too much emotion for the boy. 

Bakugou took note of all the differences between the two from the sidelines, despite his dislike for the pair, he felt pity for (Y/n). Scoffing at them as (Y/n) still tried to hold their relationship together by a thread. He felt anger towards Midoriya for not manning up and revealing his true feelings, instead dragging (Y/n) along with him. 

“Hey dumbass.” Bakugou huffed and (Y/n) looked up at him from their position beside Midoriya. Uraraka, Iida, and Midoriya looked at Bakugou with wide eyes wondering why he sauntered his way to their lunch table. 

“Hm?”

Bakugou yanks (Y/n) from the table and drags them out of the cafeteria, ignoring the protests from Midoriya and (Y/n). 

“What the hell Bakugou!” 

“Shut up dumbass! I’m sick of you pining after the nerd when we all know he does not feel the same.” Bakugou crossed his arms across his chest and glowered at them.

(Y/n) was void of emotion, they knew he was right but they didn’t care. They would be together, they’ve been through so much together. They love him, they’ll make him love them.

“We love each other.” (Y/n) said before turning to walk back to the cafeteria. “You’re going to get yourself killed!” Bakugou yelled after them, “If I do then at least I’ll know I’ve loved!” (Y/n) yelled back.

Their grip on his hands became stronger, the kiss on cheek before a task was a must, they’d try to converse with him about their future, joking about how they’d be the coolest pro-hero couple.

(Y/n) was losing themselves as they saw Midoriya remove himself from their approach. (Y/n) knew it was only a matter of time before he would end up saving Uraraka before them. They held no bitterness towards the girl, they’re aware that she’s just as innocent as she looks. If Midoriya wanted them to back off then he would have said something by now, he hasn’t said anything so he must still have feelings for them, right?

Perhaps they did hold the same passion as the girl they came across during the attack in the training camp. Toga was it? Either way, Toga had realized (Y/n)’s feelings for Midoriya as she chattered on about a green haired boy she came across. Maybe they should have accepted the offer to join her in gaining his feelings back for her by following her into the warp gate, maybe he would have come after them. 

(Y/n) was aware that they were losing interest in becoming a hero after all the attacks from the league, they didn’t seem that bad. They were beings who were outcasted and betrayed themselves. (Y/n) did not know what was right or wrong anymore. Everyone in class had noticed their change in behaviour, the dead look in their eyes as they lost all the light in them that once glowed bright. 

Midoriya, they’d do it for Midoriya.

-

Blood.

There was so much blood. (Y/n) took the hit for him. The burning sensation where they got impaled from Chisaki’s quirk was beginning to numb. How stupid of them to act all heroic for a boy who didn’t even mutter those three words that (Y/n) seemed to tell him everyday. 

They were only fifteen. Fifteen and feeling the bittersweet embrace of death. Midoriya was hovering above them, tears spilling over and dripping onto (Y/n). He was finally giving them the attention they craved for the past year at U.A.

Midoriya pressed his hands against the wound, (Y/n) whimpering in pain at the pressure. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry (Y/n). We can fix this, keep your eyes open okay? I’ll go defeat Chisaki and it’ll all be okay.”

(Y/n) shakily grabbed his face with their bloody one, “tell me you love me and I’ll forgive you.” Tears gathered at their eyes as they begged in their mind for him to put them at ease.

Midoriya was frantic, he didn’t want to lie. He was aware of the rift between them, he should have been straightforward with his feelings from day one. Perhaps if he did, they wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. 

“Even if you don’t feel the same, please. Just this once.” Their voice cracked and sobs racked their body. Their hand slid from his face to grip onto his hero suit.

“I love you! I love you, please hold on for me!” Midoriya gripped them tightly in his embrace, his own sobs breaking through. “I should have been more honest with you, I’m sorry!”

“It was my fault for not giving up on you, I knew how you felt but I couldn’t let you go.” (Y/n) smiled a broken smile, relishing in his embrace during their final moments.

“Tell Bakugou he was right, I did get myself killed huh?” (Y/n) dryly laughed.

Midoriya felt a wave of cold through his veins. Bakugou knew? Did he really say that to them?

His anxiety grew worse as (Y/n) began to feel like dead weight, their eyes glazing over and breathing shallow. “(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” He screamed as he gripped them tightly. 

(Y/n) was there with him through his lowest time, watching him grow into a hero in training when he had lost all hope. They were there when he felt frustrated with himself during training and offered him a shoulder when he felt like he had nowhere to go. He didn’t feel like a hero as he held them in his arms. A hero would have been upfront about everything, he failed them. He failed (Y/n). Now he’s going to have to live with knowing he was the reason they spilt blood.

[pentagonpimp69]

“What is happening with Peter?” Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter and Y/N are good friends. But when Peter goes missing and then shows up days later, beaten up, Y/N tries to get to the bottom of what happened to her friend.

Peter and I are pretty good friends. We eat lunch together, have a majority of your classes together, text often, and hang out a lot. I feel like I know him pretty well. Well, I thought I did at least. 

Peter hasn’t been at school for 3 days now. I’ve texted him a thousand times and he hasn’t answered. I asked Ned if he’s heard from him and he said no. MJ was the same.  We were all pretty worried. I was thinking about dropping by his place and trying to talk to his Aunt but I didn’t know if that would be to over bearing. I was just very concerned. I decided that if he didn’t show up on Thursday, I would go to his apartment on my way home from school.

But on Thursday, Peter finally showed up.

But he was in pretty bad shape. His face was black and blue and he had a very noticeable limp. The second I saw him, I ran up to him and gave him a big hug. 

“Hssssss, hi Y/N.” He says with a painful hiss.

“Peter! Where have you been? What happened?” I asked practically screaming. I was so happy to see him yet I was so confused about what happened.

“I got jumped on the way to my internship this weekend.” He says. He isn’t making eye contact which makes me think he’s hiding something.

“Did they catch the guys who did this to you?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t report it.” He answers.

“Why?” I asked him. Why wouldn’t he report getting assaulted???

“Because it’s fine Y/N. All they got was my wallet with $23 in it and my metro card. Big whoop.” He says. He almost seems annoyed that I was asking.

BELL RINGS

“I’ve got to get to class.” Peter says slamming his locker shut and pushing past me. “I’ll see you later Y/N”

“We have the same class!” I yell to him. We always walk to chem class together? What is wrong with him? I can’t believe he’s acting this way. 

I walk a few feet behind Peter on the way to class. I don’t even want to talk to him anymore with the way he’s acting.

As we get to the Chem rooms Peter briefly turns to say something but I walk past him and got to my seat next to MJ. I slam my books onto the counter in anger.

“Whoa, what’s up with you?” MJ asks.

“Look who finally decided to show up.” I nod my head towards where Peter and Ned were sitting. MJ seems just as surprised as me by Peters appearance.

“What the hell happened to him?” She asks me in a hushed voice, not wanting him to hear. 

“He got jumped apparently. But get this, he didn’t report it to the police” I tell her. Her face shows that she doesn’t believe that story either.

“Y/N , MJ!” The teacher yells from the front. Both of our heads snap to the front of the class.

“Yes sir?” I answer.

“Like I just said, please put on your safety gear. We’re doing experiments today.” He says, clearly annoyed by MJ and I not paying attention.

We walk to the back to grab our gear and MJ is glaring at Peter the whole time.

“So he gets jumped and he can’t answer his damn phone?” She whispers to me.

“Exactly! Theres something he’s hiding. He got super annoyed with me when I asked him about it.” I tell her as we walk back.

“Let’s figure it out at lunch.” She says as we set up for class.

I nod. As we are getting stuff ready, I look over at Peter and notice he’s looking at me. I try to motion for him to text me but the teacher begins to start, interrupting me. 

I have to get to the bottom of this.

-

“So what he saying?” MJ asks as she sits down at the lunch table.

“Nothing! He still won’t answer my texts!” I tell her, “I wonder if his phone got broken during the ‘assault’”

“But he could text back from his computer! Why wouldn’t he answer any of us?” She asks.

“I don’t know.” I answer her. I begin writing Peter another text before I get interrupted by Ned.

“Hey guys!” He says in his usual bubbly voice as he sits down.

“Hey ned, where’s Peter?” I ask.

“Wow good to see you too Y/N.” Ned says, acting offended. I rolled by eyes at him.

“Sorry. Hi Ned. How are you?” I ask him, trying to only be a little condescending.

“I’m good! Thank you for asking! And as for your other question, Peter is in the library trying to catch up on the work he missed.” He says.

“Did he tell you what happened?” MJ asks Ned.

“Yeah, he got jumped and he missed a few days to recover.” Ned says, oddly not look at either of us. Ned clearly knows.

“Did he explain why he didn’t answer any of our texts?” I ask him.

“He was recovering.” He answers. He seems defensive about our questioning. MJ and I share a look of confusion. 

“You said he was in the library?” I ask him. Ned nods.

“I think I’m gonna go talk to him.” I say standing up.

“I don’t thinks that’s a good ide-“ Neds starts. 

But I interrupt him, “I’ll be back!”

I stand up and walk out of the cafeteria and head to the library. I’m going to have to corner him in order to get him to tell me the truth. 

As I walk into the library, I immediately spot Peter. Sitting at a table with his back to me and a bunch of school work surrounding him. I walk up behind him and grab his shoulder. He wines at my touch. I immediately pull my hand back.

“Peter, I’m sorry.” I say as I take the seat next to him.

He shows a weak smile and rubs his shoulder, trying to sooth the pain I had just caused him. “It’s okay.” He says through gritted teeth.

“What is going on?” I ask him.

“Nothing. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your texts. I was just trying to recover.” He says. He doesn’t look at me, he just keeps working on his missed assignments. 

“Peter.” I say. Im getting super frustrated by him. Especially since he won’t even look at me.

“Y/n.” He says back. 

Thats it.

I grab his face sharply and he whines again. But I don’t let go. Now, I can get a clear look at his face. His eyes are both black, his nose might be broken, and the edge of his mouth is even a little blue.

“What the hell happened Parker?” I ask him again. “And I want the truth this time.”

He sighs.“I got jumped.” He still isn’t looking me in the eyes.

“I know you’re lying Peter.” I tell him. He finally looks me in the eye. Tears are starting to form. “Peter, you can tell me what happened.” I tell him.

Suddenly, he pushes me away. “No I can’t Y/N.” He starts pulling all of his stuff together quickly with tears are running down his face.

“Peter, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you!” I say trying to calm him down.

“Don’t be!” He yells, “In fact, don’t ever worry about me again!” He zips up his bag and practically runs out of the library.

There is 100% something he’s hiding. I pull out my phone to text MJ.

“I’m going to his place after work. There’s something he’s hiding.”

Hope you guys like it! Its something new for me! Please let me know what you guys think and if you would like a part 2! Love you! Stay safe!

[whumpcollector]

Lucas Pt.7: The Good Doctor

HELLOOOOOOOOOOOO EVERYONE. We’re back at it with another part of Lucas’ story. We’re going to start meeting some new faces. I hope everyone here enjoys!

CW: Medical whump. (I think thats it? If I missed anything please let me know).

“...he...injured…”

“...put...gently...don’t”

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“...doing...when…”

“...alive...not…”

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“...any...worried…”

“...patient...wait…”

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Lucas fluttered in and out of consciousness, becoming aware for a few moments before slipping back into darkness. He could hear small snippets of conversation, but nothing substantial. In one of his rare moments of lucidity he attempted to look around, but he didn’t see anyone before he blacked out again.

When Lucas did return to the world it was slowly, almost unwillingly. There was a safety in oblivion, one that a part of him wanted to keep. As he felt consciousness return a small voice spoke out, pleading with him to just stay asleep. He wasn’t being hurt if he was asleep, and if he woke up who kno-

“LUCAS!”

Lucas awoke with a jolt, eyes shooting open and darting around the room. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. The first thing he noticed was the concerned face of… Mehrzad, yes Mehrzad was his name. There was also another man next to him, he had the same dark tanned skin Mehrzad had, but his face was slimmer and with a full beard. 

The next thing Lucas noticed was how sore he was. A soft groan escaped his lips as he looked down at his body. His arms and torso were covered in blood stained bandages, and a thin blanket covered his legs. Lucas tried to sit up, only to have the bearded man gently place a hand on his chest and push him back down.

“Do not waste your energy, my friend. You are still recovering, you need to rest.”

The man's voice was smooth, kind, comforting even. Lucas did as he was told, best not to anger whoever this man was. He laid down on the cot he was on, taking a deep breath as a sharp pain shot up one of his arms. 

“You must be in a lot of pain. Hold on one moment.” The man turned away, rummaging around before turning back with a small wooden bowl. “Here drink this, it will soothe you.”

Lucas looked at the bowl held in front of his face. A thick green liquid sloshed around inside. A grimace crossed his face, he wasn’t sure how much he believed this man. Still, an order was given and his kind was to obey. He pushed his lips to the rim of the bowl and let the man tilt it forwards, spilling the liquid into his mouth. The moment it touched his lips Lucas had to suppress a gag. He swallowed it before coughing and sputtering, trying to force out the taste left in his mouth. 

The man let out a small chuckle. “I apologize for not mentioning the taste. However I have found that it is… easier… to convince my patients to drink it if I am not upfront about that fact.”

Mehrzad raised an eyebrow. “What exactly did you have him drink, love?”

“Oh an herbal mixture meant to soothe pain. Effective, but rather… unpleasant to the tongue.” The man turned to Lucas, offering a small smile. “My name is Jawad, you are Lucas, yes?”

Lucas nodded and tried to speak before realizing how dry his throat was. His words came out choked and stunted and another fit of coughing followed after. Jawad quickly reached for a pitcher of water, pouring it into a clean bowl and offering it to Lucas. The boy drank greedily, downing three more bowls of water before feeling satiated. 

“Thirsty eh?” Mehrzad asked.

Lucas froze, panic creeping into his stomach. Had he done something wrong? Jawad had offered him the water so he was allowed to drink it, right? Or was it a test? But they let him drink as much as he wanted, so it was okay then? Maybe they were waiting to see how much he w-

“LUCAS!”

Lucas was snapped out of his spiraling, Mehrzad shaking his shoulders lightly.

“Are you alright?”

Lucas took a deep breath before nodding. His eyes darted back and forth between the two men. Mehrzad and Jawad looked at him with confusion and concern respectively. After a beat of silence Jawad looked towards his husband.

“Perhaps it would be best if you left us for now.”

Mehrzad cocked an eyebrow and turned towards Jawad. They shared a look for a moment before Mehrzad nodded and stood up, making his way out of the tent. Jawad turned back to Lucas and stood up, walking over to a table covered in bowls and bandages. 

“You are a mage Lucas, is that correct?”

Lucas nodded before realizing the man was looking away and couldn’t see him. He coughed, his throat still dry before talking for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Y-yes sir. I’m a mage.”

Jawad let out a small chuckle. “Oh no need for such pleasantries my friend. Just Jawad will suffice. Sir makes me sound old and I would much prefer to deny that fact for as long as I can.”

Lucas blanched. “I’m sorry s- Jawad, I didn't mean to offend.” He looked down, screwing his eyes shut and hoping he would be let off with a warning.

“Oh no need to apologize, no offense taken.” 

Lucas breathed a sigh of relief, looks like he got off easy this time. Jawad finished whatever he was working on at the table and returned to Lucas’ bedside. He sat down, offering Lucas another bowl of water which the boy drank with slight apprehension. 

“You are the first mage I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. I’ve heard the stories of course, even seen a few from afar, but never have I had the opportunity to speak to one.” He scratched his beard absentmindedly. “If you don’t mind my saying I am excited to have you under my care. There were many rumors in my old university about the physiology of mages, and now I have the opportunity to see how much of it is true.”

Oh. So that was his game. Lucas wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Then again, how he felt didn’t really matter. 

Jaws continued. “You gave me quite the scare a little while ago.” Jawad gently took Lucas’ arm, inspecting the bloodied bandages. “You were in rough shape when Mehrzad brought you to me, but I managed to patch you up well enough. I thought you were just fine, but next thing I know I go to check on you and your bandages are soaked with blood.”

Jawad looked up at Lucas quizzically. “It seems that overnight what must have been dozens of lacerations had appeared all over your body, with no apparent cause.” He gestured towards Lucas. “I can only imagine that such phenomena must be magical in nature, would you happen to know how or why that might have happened?”

Lucas thought for a bit. He didn’t really understand how his magic worked, least of all what might cause something like that. “I’m sorry, I… I don’t know why that, um, happened.” Lucas fidgeted, watching Jawad for any sign of anger or frustration. “Um, sorry. I don’t really...sorry.” 

Jawad tilted his head, scrunching his eyebrows as if he were confused by something. “I see… well, no matter, whatever magical cause your condition may have originated from, it seems my mortal medicine is more than adept at treating it.” He stood up, turning back to the table he had been fiddling with. “Which does bring me to another matter that must be resolved.”

Jawad picked a large bowl off of the table and walked back to Lucas. The bowl was filled with bandages that were soaking in a pungent smelling liquid. Jawad set the bowl down next to Lucas and took a seat, his mouth set into a thin line. Lucas fidgeted, a bad feeling settling into his stomach.

“Your bandages need to be changed. Your current ones are soaked through and I would like to avoid infection as much as possible.” The doctor sighed. “It will be less than pleasant. Bloody bandages have a way of… sticking to wounds. Removing them will hurt.”

Lucas grimaced slightly and nodded his head at the doctor’s words. He knew this was coming. Oh well, he could handle a little pain. Whatever would keep his new owner… owners? Happy. 

“Alright, let us take care of it then.” 

Jawad began to pull at the bandages on Lucas’ arms, slowly unravelling them. The outer layers fell away with no issue, the soiled linen hanging off of Lucas’ arm. Once Jawad had reached the layer attached to Lucas’ skin he paused, looking up at the mage.

“Are you ready?”

Lucas nodded and the doctor began to peel away the last layer of bandages. Lucas cringed, sucking in air through his mouth as the bandages came off. Jawad had not lied, the bandages were stuck to his arm and having them removed felt like he was being scraped raw by rough gravel. Still, it wasn’t the worst thing he had ever felt and it didn’t take long for all of the bandages on his arm to be removed. 

Removing the rest of the bandages on his other arm and torso was an unpleasant but bearable process. As Jawad went to dispose of the soiled bandages Lucas looked down at his now bare skin. He was covered in cuts and scrapes, most of which were still open but not actively bleeding. The leylines on his body were a dull brown instead of their usual red. That was… unsettling. 

“Alright Lucas,” said Jawad as he wiped his hand clean with a wet rag. “Now we come to the next part, applying new bandages.” He gestured towards the bowl. “I will be blunt, this will be very painful. The medicine I use tends to… burn… when it comes in contact with open wounds and, well…”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Best we get it over with then.” 

The moment the fresh linen touched Lucas’ skin he had to bite back a scream. The skin beneath the bandage felt as if it were set on fire. His mind went back to master Harold and his performances, when his magic flared and surged through his limbs. This wasn’t as bad, but it was close.

Jawad finished applying the first bandage and began to work on the next. Every wrap caused more and more of his arm to burn, and Jawad was doing anything but working quickly.

“I understand you want this to be over as quickly as possible but I must be thorough. If I don't do it right the first time I’ll have to start over again and I’m certain you don’t want that.”

Jawad was right, Lucas didn’t want that. He bit down on his hand, trying to muffle himself and avoid annoying the doctor. He knew a threat when he heard one and he had no intention of giving Jawad a reason to follow up on it.

The work continued at a slow pace. Jawad made sure that no skin could be seen through the wrappings, that every inch of his upper body was covered in the burning medicine. Tears flowed from Lucas’ eyes by the end and his breaths were shaky and broken up by stifled sobs. Jawad gently lowered Lucas back onto the bed, patting his shoulder softly enough to not aggravate his injuries further. A mercy Lucas was grateful for. 

“There, done. Would like some more of that pain reliever I gave you earlier?”

Lucas gave a shaky nod, watching the doctor walk away. He was… confused by the offer. Why bother doing all this to him if he was going to try and get rid of the pain right after? Him being hurt was the point right? Otherwise why bother wasting medicine on him? He paused his train of thought when Jawad returned, holding another bowl to his lips. Lucas grateful drank the viscous liquid, not minding the taste and waiting for its numbing effects to kick in. The burning across his body did subside a bit and Lucas let out a relieved sigh. 

Well, whatever the doctor’s motivations were Lucas would not complain about any offered respite. 

Jawad sat back down, looking over his handiwork one last time before speaking to Lucas. “Hopefully we will not need to do that again. Your wounds should be healed enough by the time those bandages are to be removed.” Jawad paused, thinking for a moment. “I actually had a question about that. I had heard that mages possessed...miraculous natural healing talents, potent enough to handle even near mortal injury. However, you have not shown such abilities? Are they something mages possess or was that just a rumor?”

Lucas processed Jawad’s question for a moment before thoughts began to race through his head. Why hadn’t he healed yet? Jawad had said it had been at least a day… was there something wrong with his magic? The leylines on his arms had looked weird. What if… what if his magic was gone? 

Panic flared in Lucas' stomach and he instinctively tried to summon a small flame. Nothing came and his panic worsened. This wasn’t the first time his magic failed to respond, but this was different. Usually when it failed it was because his magic had been exhausted, like a well that had run dry. Now it wasn almost like… there was nothing there, as if the well had been filled and sealed away entirely.    

Lugas wrapped his arms around himself, trying to slow his breathing. No, no this couldn’t be the case. He couldn’t have lost his magic. A mage without magic was… nothing. Nothing at all. If he couldn’t do magic… what could he offer? How could he serve? 

Lucas felt a rough shake and turned to see Jawad. The man was shaking his shoulder and talking, but Lucas couldn’t hear his words over the roaring in his ears. What should he say? The doctor probably wouldn’t be happy to learn he had just wasted medicine on a… defective mage. Maybe… maybe he could lie? Say that healing wasn’t something most mages had. Maybe… maybe that would give him some time to figure out how to get his magic back. But if his magic came back then so would his healing, and then Jawad would find out that Lucas had lied to him and th-

A hand struck Lucas sharply on his cheek, bringing his thoughts to a screeching halt and causing him to shrink into himself. He looked at Jawad. The doctor was standing now, bending over to keep their eyes level with both hands on Lucas’ shoulders. The doctor looked troubled, his eyebrows were furrowed and his lips formed a thin frown. Lucas shrinked back further, as far as he could with Jawad’s holding him. 

The doctor’s face softened. “I apologize for that, Lucas, but it didn’t seem like you could hear me and I needed you to calm down.” 

“S-sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It's ok, you are not in any trouble my friend.” Jawad removed his hands from Lucas’ shoulders, giving him space and sitting back down. “Now Lucas, please, tell me what is wrong. If I can help, I promise I will.”

Lucas gulped, his throat felt very very dry. “I… yes. Mages do have healing, at least I think most of them do. I-I do at least. Um… but it's… not working. N-none of my magic is right now.” He looked down, tapping his knuckles together and waiting for Jawad’s response. 

Jawad hummed thoughtfully. “Your magic isn’t working? Hmmmm.” he stroked his chin, thinking to himself. Without a world he stood up and walked back towards the table. He shifted things around before picking up a large journal, flipping through the pages and scanning each one at what seemed like inhuman speed. Once he found the page he was looking for he paused, squinting his eyes and peering closer at the page. After a moment his eyes widened slightly and he placed the journal down, turning to walk out of the tent. “I will return shortly, Lucas.” 

With that Jawad left and Lucas was left alone. He let out another sigh, laying back down and placing his hands over his stomach. The pain across his body had greatly subsided, whatever that substance was proving to be effective. Now all Lucas felt was tired. Jawad didn’t say when he would be back, and Lucas could probably… get… away… with……

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A light shake woke Lucas up, his eyes blinking blearily. Jawad hovered over him, holding another bowl. It smelled like food, and Lucas noticed just how hungry he was. Maybe he could beg for some later on.

“Hello Lucas. I’m sorry to wake you but I brought you some food. It’s been at least a day since you last ate and you’ll need your energy.”

Oh. Lucas took the bowl from Jawad, careful not to spill any of it on the bed. He looked down at the food in his hand. It was a normal stew, with chunks of meat and vegetables swimming in a thick broth. Lucas felt his mouth begin to water and quickly placed the rim of the bowl to his lips and began to drink greedily. The broth was rich and warm, the best food Lucas had had since… well for a while.

“Ha, I see you are hungry. Here, take this.” Jawad held a wooden spoon out to Lucas, who realized how he must look and took the utensil sheepishly. “It tends to make eating easier.”

Lucas nodded thanks and began to shovel stew into his mouth, savoring each bite. The meat and vegetables were juicy and tender, everything coming together perfectly. This wa-

“What in the EVERLIVING FUCK do you think you are doing?”

Lucas choked on his stew, dropping the bowl and spoon and hacking out rough coughs. Stew spilled across his lap, bruning him and covering the bed and his pants in broth and chunks of food. He looked up to see a tall, well built man standing at the entrance of the tent. Lucas cowered back, holding his hands in front of his mouth nervously. What had he done wrong? What… what was going to happen to him?

The man looked at him in surprise before gathering himself. “Shit kid, sorry.” He held up one hand in a placating gesture. “I didn’t mean to startle you like that, my bad.” He turned away to face Jawad and brandished the sheet of paper he held in his hand. “Jawad what the fuck is this?”

Jawad for his part was speaking in a language Lucas didn’t recognize. He scrambled around, grabbing a washcloth and trying to clean Lucas off. He turned to the man and began yelling in the strange language, Lucas didn’t understand anything but he had the feeling there were plenty of swears involved. 

The man held his hands up defensively. “Yeah, yeah I’m sorry alright? I didn’t mean to startle him like that.” He turned to Lucas again and offered an apologetic look. Lucas simply stared at him and he turned back to the doctor. “Seriously Jawad, what the hell are you thinking?”

Jawad finished his cleaning and huffed, “I am requisitioning medical supplies.” He gestured to the list. “Everything on there should be in the next major city we visit.”

The man looked at Jawad incredulously. “‘Requisition medical supplies’? Is that what you call trying to bankrupt us?” He scanned his eyes down the list. “Unghol scales, lyndwurm venom, sylken fibers, fucking....bitterblossom pollen? What the fuck is a bitter blossom?” He looked back up at the doctor. “This is at least 3,000 crowns. AT LEAST! What the fuck is this all for?”

Jawad gestured towards Lucas. “It’s for my patient.”

The man looked at Lucas, properly scrutinizing the boy for the first time. Lucas shrunk under his gaze, still unsure what the man was going to do to him, if anything.

“Ah, so you’re our new guest then.” He walked forward and extended a hand. “Captain Johnathon, I’m the leader of this band of bastards and cutthroats you find yourself mingling with.”

Lucas eyes the hand warily before nervously grabbing it and shaking. “My name is Lucas, Captain Jonathon.”

Jonathan chuckled. “Would you look at that, kid treats me with more respect than most of my men do.” He crossed his arms and looked back at the doctor. “So, let me guess, all of this stuff has to do with some magical mumbo bullshit our mage friend here needs.”

“Yes, Lucas here can’t access his magic for some reason. This is a physiological anomaly that is rather worrying. These ingredients all have reported magical properties and I believe they may be able to help return his magic to him.”

“You… believe?”

Jawad looked away somewhat sheepishly. “Well… magical medicine is a… less explored field than others. Nothing is, well, certain when it comes to dealing with mages and magic. I am confident that they will be beneficial but I can't be certain.”

Jonathan looked at the doctor, eyebrow raised and arms crossed. He sighed, paling a hand on his face and thinking for a moment. “Everyone in this camp, myself included, owes you their life at least once over. You’re the  best there is.” He looked down at the paper. “Are you sure this will be worth it?”

“As I said, I can’t guarantee anything, but it is my duty to provide the best care I can for my patients. I believe this is necessary to do that.”

Jonathan stood and thought for a while, mulling things over in his kind before letting out another sign. “Alright… I’ll approve it. We’ll have someone pick these items up next time we hit a big market.” He turned to leave before pausing at the tent’s threshold. “Jawad be honest with me, is this the last time you plan on making these kinds of requests?”

“Well… as I said… I can’t be sure that those ingredients will work and there are… plenty other theorized solutions fo-”

Jonathan raised a hand, cutting Jawad off. He shook his head and muttered to himself as he left. “Cathrai above save my fucking coin purse.”

With that Jawad and Lucas were left alone in the tent. Jawad walked over to Lucas, removing the soiled sheets on the bed and replacing them with a large tarp that was lying around. 

“Sorry, this is not ideal but some covering is better than nothing. You should rest now. You have been through much today.”

Lucas nodded, pulling the tarp over himself and laying down. Jawad patted him on the shoulder and left the tent, leaving Lucas alone. He turned onto his side, looking at the wall of the tent. This place was… different, as were his new masters. He didn’t understand why Jawad was so concerned with helping him get his magic back. Maybe he wanted Lucas to be able to work as soon as possible. That made sense.

Whatever the reasoning, Lucas didn’t care. He had made it through the day without a beating and even got a meal. That was better than most. As he began to drift away to sleep he began to hear the bustle that came from outside the tent. Various voices and other sounds bleeding through the walls. Jonathon had said that he was with a band of… bastards and cutthroats. That didn’t sound reassuring, and Lucas dreaded the fact that he would have to meet, and serve, them all. 

Still, maybe things wouldn’t be that bad.

TAGS: @haro-whumps @ladygwennn @dramaticcollapse @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @brutal-nemesis @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @inpainandsuffering

[cherienymphe]

Can you do a Drabble xoxo

here’s some ‘the morning after’ teas

Peter ducked as you threw the glass lamp at him, the expensive decor piece shattering upon impact with the wall. He barely righted himself in time to move out of the way of a heavy book coming his way.

“Dammit, Y/N-!”

He cut himself off to dodge another book, ducking and quickly approaching you to grab your hands. You wrestled in his grip, anger coursing through your veins at the situation you found yourself in. The wall shook as he shoved you against the large dresser, and you winced at the pain in your back. You both were panting, chests heaving as he held you in place.

“I’m going to scream,” you threatened.

“You’re in my apartment, not my father’s, so scream all you’d like. No one will hear you,” he argued.

You felt tears of frustration and anger kiss your eyes as you glared at him, body trembling as the full weight of what he did to you hit you. You were confused when you woke up this morning in an unfamiliar bed, wearing a t-shirt that wasn’t yours with an arm thrown over your waist that wasn’t yours.

The memories of last night were hazy, but they were there. So angry, leaving hadn’t even crossed your mind. You had just wanted to kill Peter Stark. The red hand print on his face had only gotten worse in the minutes passed.

“I’m going to have you arrested,” you spat.

Peter tilted his head to the side, a mocking grin on his lips.

“...and how will you leave this apartment to do that? Hmm?”

You pushed against him but he only pushed back.

“Fuck you,” you breathed through trembling lips.

Peter heaved a sigh, looking at you like you were in the wrong.

“Come on, babe. We were always going to get together. It was inevitable. You had to know this,” he said, speaking like you were dumb.

“I never had any intentions of getting with you despite your desire to believe otherwise,” you sneered.

Peter let out a soft chuckle, dark eyes running along your half naked frame.

“Well, thats too bad because I had every intention of you being the last girl I ever fuck.”

You spat in his face, and he slowly blinked, another sigh leaving him. He started to pull you towards the bed, and you dug your heels in, struggling against him. There was a frown on his face as he jerked you.

“Babe...come on, babe. Let’s be adults about this...”

You screamed when he pulled you off of your feet, arms wrapped around your waist before swinging the both of you onto his bed, your body pinned beneath his. You fought against his hands as he struggled to pin them down, and you screamed in frustration when he finally succeeded. Peter flipped his hair away from his face, breathing heavy as he held you down.

“You’re finally mine, now. So are we going to accept it or will we be doing things the hard way?” he wondered.

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep,” you loudly threatened, heart going haywire in your chest. 

Peter heaved a disappointed sigh, but a haughty smirk danced along his lips as he let out a low chuckle.

“You always were difficult,” he said, leaning down to kiss you.