#& even if it took me a sec to get over which does happen i’d be like. fine

[callixton]

i do not think i have ever pined for something so unequivocally impossible to ask for is the thing. like i think i often am interested in unobtainable people bc it is easier that way & it stays safe inside & i don’t have to navigate the reality/(a)romance. and ig this is. sort of like that. but it is worse.

[hazelfoureyes]

Someone nice, Somewhere safe

Angel x Virgin Female Reader

જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Male Reader - Someone nice, somewhere safe*

*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 

You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.

.<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Female!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>

listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  

minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)

You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when you said you’d never actually orgasmed before, everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.

Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”

 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”

“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”

All of the blood rushed to your face.

“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 

What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?

He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”

His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.

“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.

“Does that happen often?”

“Never.”

“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.

Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.

“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.

“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.

“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”

His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”

You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.

“Do you wanna?”

You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”

Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”

“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.

“It’s perfect, Angel.”

“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.

Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.

“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.

You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.

“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”

“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.

With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”

Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?

You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.

“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.

You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.

With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.

He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.

“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”

“Not really. Not like, there.”

“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.

“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Nerves can make holes dry like nothin’ else. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.

Ah, the towel. That made sense now.

“Should I do something?”

“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”

You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”

“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally came into contact between your legs. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and a down your pussy.

You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”

Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.

His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.

At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with sleeping with women, it was just usually for money or a shoot. Not his preferred flavor, but he could still get it up. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.

His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed passed your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”

“Atleast??” You shook your head.

“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.

It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight entrance of your cunt and settling into the wet warmth behind.

Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?

“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.

You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”

Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.

You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your self grip his finger, nervousness slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.

“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your clit. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your lap warm with the rush of blood.

He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.

“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “Not everyone needs it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.

You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 

“Three fingers means I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube. His long digits were fast and practiced as he rubbed your clit. “Sex math. Dont need your virgin pussy locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his fingers made your body spasm, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering walls made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.

“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.

You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Yeah, it’s starting to feel good.” A weak nod.

Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your clit. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive bud of nerves.

You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.

“Like that? Watch this,” He cupped his mouth over your clit and began strumming it with his tongue. Fat and flat, then thin and sharp. His fingers slowed, now just bending to hit your soft g-spot again and again. 

One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.

He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Feelin’ good?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”

“Yeah. I want to feel more, Angel.” It came out as more of a whine than you meant.

His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your entrance, fingers dipping in then out.

“You comfortable with getting on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”

Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 

“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto pussy, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.

“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”

A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, the tight coil of pleasure his mouth summoned now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your folds, swiping past your entrance. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.

“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”

“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.

He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.

You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”

“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.

He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 

You were so soft around him, yet gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into your walls. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, a rush of pleasure electrifying your clit.

“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.

You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.

He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 

“Right there,” you whimpered, “please don’t stop, right there Angel.” You dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel a pressure building in your lower stomach. 

Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to press at your clit, finger frantically moving. You felt something building, you were desperate to reach its climax.

Angel’s hand came down and pushed yours aside, his fingers strong and not shaking with your impending orgasm. 

“Almost- Angel pleeeease! Don’t stop- keep—” You squeezed his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowing only slightly.

"You can do it, baby. Come on. Almost there~" His words fell apart in his mouth, his own moans getting louder, your cunt tightening in spasms as your first orgasm tore through you. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation, barely ever chosen as the one doing the fucking, let alone fucking a woman. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.

He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.

“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, orgasm still rolling from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.

“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.

He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.

Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”

You chuckled, “More than anything.” He side eyed you, “Well, not anything.”

“Right answer, toots,”  One of his hands came down and settled on your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”

You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.

༻Masterlist༺

[kactiworld]

KACTIWORLD - CHAPTER 6 - MOTIVATIONS - K-SIDE

It happened when I was 8, my father was a big deal around where I lived, he had me doing some jobs for him. At the time I didn’t completely understand what I was doing, but what else was I supposed to do? He’s my dad. 

“Come on, kid. Let’s get to the site.”

“Uhmm, okay. What are we doin’ here?” I’d ask this man that I’d never met before.

“We’re just picking up a… A little sugar. Here put this hardhat on.” 

The man handed me a construction hat. I put it on without asking questions, even though in retrospect I probably should've.  

“Why do I need a hardhat…?”

“Because we’re construction workas, we make buildings, now stop askin’ questions.”

I decided to just believe the man, which was not a smart idea. We got to the ‘site’ and there were… a lot more men there than I anticipated. It was definitely not a construction job, of course at the time I didn’t know that. 

“Alright boys, let’s see it, huh?”

One of the men that I was with was carrying a briefcase, and he walked up to the other group of ‘Construction workers’ and opened it. The other men looked inside the case and looked at eachother, all nodding in unison, and then pulled out guns!

“This is the DCPD!! Everyone is under arrest!”

“Oh, shit! What the hell?! A stick up?”

I was scared out of my mind; I had no idea what to do. One of the men I was with grabbed me and threw me behind some boxes. I hit my head and held my ears extremely tightly, blood streaming down the sides of my head and face, staining lines into my head. I never liked loud noises; I hated them in fact. Gunshots rang out, fists being thrown, the sounds of boxes and bodies being smashed on the floor. At the time I didn’t even realize I was bawling my eyes out, I was screaming and crying and yet I couldn’t hear it over the sounds of guns and fighting. 

After a while. It stopped. All I could hear were police swarming the area and arresting any criminals that were left alive in the shoot-out. A man walked over to me; he looked like he was in his late 20s. He kneeled down to me and held out his hand. He said to me,

“Are you alright, kid?”

“Uhn… mn…” I rubbed my eyes which were red from crying.

“Oh jeez… Alright. Why don’t you come with me to the station, yeah? We’ll find your dad for-”

“NO!”

I screamed out of instinct, I didn’t even want to talk to this guy, but I just couldn’t let him find my dad and take me to him, he’d be so mad at me for what happened. Even if it wasn’t my fault. 

“Uh, alright then. We’ll take you to your mom. Is that alright, kid?”

“Uhm. Yeah. Yeah, that’s alright.”

“Alright, guys, I’m takin’ this kid to the station for a sec! Gotta find his mom to pick him up!”

“Alright, Chris. Have a safe drive back!”

I got in Chris’s car and he took me to the station. While driving there, I looked out into the city that I lived in. It really was a mess, but it was my city. 

“So… You wanna tell me your name, kid?”

I didn’t say anything in return. I didn’t really want to tell him anything to be completely honest with you. We got to the station and he took me inside. I sat down in an office, there were a lot of boxes everywhere and papers strewn about, like he had just moved into this room. 

“Alright kid, sit down. I want you to tell me why you were there.”

“It… it’s my birthday…”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my birthday. I’m 8 now. I was supposed to be with my dad today…”

“I see. Are your parents together?”

“No… My dad gets me on birthdays and holidays though. Like, every holiday.” 

“Alright… and what does your father do exactly? -”

Once he asked that I bursted into tears, I could barely breathe through how much I was crying. Tears streamed down my face, staining lines into my face under my eyes that went down to my chin. I looked up at the police officer named Chris. 

“My dad is a very, very bad man! You have to stop him! YOU HAVE TO STOP HIM! PLEASE!!” I yelled out to him. He stared at me, not saying a word.

“I… I promise. I’ll stop him. So, tell me, who’s your dad, exactly?”

“His last name is Graves… like mine…”

“And that was my 8th birthday. I can still play it back perfectly in my head each year around this time.” I rubbed the back of my head.

“I can’t believe I’m almost 22…” I continued with.

My therapist looked at me, she seemed worried but followed with me in innocent banter.

“Yes, yes… 22 is a big year.”

“Bigger than 21?”

“Well… Uhm. They are all big years.” She seemed stunned by my story.

“Well, thank you for seeing me, miss.” I thanked her.

“Oh course, Karter. Get home safe.”

Chapter 6 END

[shotorozu]

hello!! i saw that your requests were open and wanted to ask if you could do single dad! atsumu suna and sakusa falling in love with reader, like it's sort of a meet cute (or not) but the reader falls for them and the kid and happiness lskfjsdfk have a great day!!

single dad! falling for reader

character(s) : miya atsumu, suna rintarou, sakusa kiyoomi (haikyuu!!)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns used, timeskip au! (because,, single dads.)

headcanon type : fluff, crack and angst if you squint (x reader)

warning(s) : mentions of the character’s ex wives, the ex-wives being jerks for multiple different reasons and ways (so,, be warned. for negligence, not very detailed hitting, and cheating, but not on reader)

note(s) : me, writing for haikyuu?? wow, a surprise! also, it’s been a while since i’ve written for haikyuu so if i don’t get the characterization correctly— ESPECIALLY FOR SAKUSA, i’m sorry in advance.

»»————-　♡　————-««

miya atsumu

at first, his marriage was happy. miya atsumu— successful in his 20s, basically set for life, and with a head strong wife that gave him a wonderful daughter

he was elated when his son, genji came into this world. he wouldn’t swap him out for anyone else. and it was all good, really

until he started spotting marks on genji’s delicate skin, and he even found a large bruise on his shoulder when he was changing his shirt! he almost passed away seeing that

genji would also have a sudden fear of being alone in the house— even when his mother would stay behind to take care of him

but why though? genji’s only 4! what could’ve happened to him? he doesn’t recall hiring any babysitters.

he finally found the answer one day, when he found out that his head strong, intense wife— has been physical with him!

basically, all the love for his wife flew out the window, and he filed for a divorce— and of course, he won custody

and he assumed that his love life would stop at that— and it didn’t sound terrible. all that mattered was that his son was safe, and happy again

but this is where you come in

you work at a toy store, a small business toy store really, that sold the highest of quality only

and atsumu took genji to either replace, or fix the toy he broke a few days back. the place was recommended to him by shoyo— who also had a kid of his own

you’re just two years younger than him, eyes full of determination and care, practically the complete opposite of his ex-wife.

you put up a good conversation with him, while you fixed the toy— the two of you talking about the mutual friends, and that ‘this place should be a lot more popular.’

and also, his son did happen to take a liking to you. he seemed joyous in your presence— compared to how he was with his ex-wife

and from that moment on, the two of you would only become closer— especially when a bunch of his son’s toys started breaking magically

before atsumu knew it, he harbored something for you— the absolute angel you were to the both of them

“‘m sorry for the inconvenience,” the faux blond scratches the back of his next “didn’t know genji here was a ‘lil clumsy weasel,”

you laugh, and genji’s just staring at you with amusement, “it’s fine, genji could break his entire toy box— and i’d still fix it anyway.”

so this was the nerve wracking part, “to make up for it, would you like some coffee later? i could treat ‘ya.”

“is this yer way of askin’ Y/N—”

“shut yer mouth for a sec— uhm,” he looks at you, sheepishly

you laugh, “miya, i wouldn’t mind honestly. but i’d assume you’re busy as it is.”

“not at all!” atsumu replies, “i’ll just, drop off genji first. say yer thanks to Y/N,” atsumu looks at genji, encouraging him to say his thanks

“,,thanks for fixing my toys, Y/N.”

“no problem, genji.” you smile at the two of them when they move to leave the store, fixed toys in hand— as they wave at you before parting

“oh, Y/N?” atsumu calls out,

“yeah?”

“call me atsumu— from now on.” his cheeks are tinted pink, and he can feel genji’s eyes on him.

“oh, uhm. yeah! i’ll see you later, atsumu.”

so yeah— the two of you went out for some coffee, and before he even knew it, he was in love.

it might take him a few months to realize it though

suna rintarou

i can’t imagine him having kids for some reason 💀 but if he were to have any, he’d definitely have a daughter

rintarou himself, didn’t think he would have kids at at all, really. but the moment he was able to meet asuka— his lovely little daughter

he was hooked. he seemed a little awkward at first, not very used to caring for a child. but he was actually decent at his job

he’d sneak into his daughter’s room to hold her when she was upset— even when his wife was too knocked out to realize it, and he’d show her picture books

since she liked them a lot, even when she can’t coherently read a straight paragraph yet.

it started to concern him when he realized how little his wife was involved in the development of their daughter.

she started acting different, a little bit after she didn’t have to breastfeed asuka

and then, that’s when it happened.

“i literally can’t believe you,” he speaks when he’s packing his things, “we have a child together.”

his soon to be ex wife is on the floor, begging him to stay— but he doesn’t care. “look, the idea of you cheating wasn’t very surprising. i don’t care anymore, really. but the fact that you’ve been neglecting asuka for your selfish needs is low. i hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”

his words are so much different that his lenient, calm self. which only solidifies reality

so he leaves with asuka, not caring about the sobs that left his soon to be ex wife’s mouth.

and even though he was still angry at his wife for not being there, he’d never let it show to asuka

he’d still show her picture books, he’d still sit down and watch miraculous ladybug with her— even when she doesn’t understand it all completely

and speaking of picture books— he decided that he needed to buy more for her

so he took her to the bookstore, and he didn’t really know what he was doing. he bought all those previous books when asuka was still a newborn

now it’s a little fuzzy on what he should be looking for. colors, right? he needs a picture book that has plenty of colors.

and that’s where you come in. you’re youthful, despite looking not that far off his age, you’re humming to yourself as you fix the bookshelves

“uhm,” he calls out for your help, and you look at him in recognition “need any help? what are you looking for?”

there’s a helpful glint in your eyes, and it reminded him of what should’ve been in his ex wife’s eyes. “my daughter, likes picture books. and,, i don’t know what i’m doing.”

she’s basically a replica of him, same eye color, and same hair color. but her eyes are much more rounded, youthful.

“cute kid,” you smile when she coos at you, “the children books are this way, follow me!” you exclaim, moving to navigate your way to the children’s book isle

so it seems to be that you really know what you’re doing. most people would’ve recommended picture books with a lot of words, or just no words at all

but you’ve found the books that made asuka exclaim in happiness.

and although it’s not very obvious that rintarou’s caring to his child— he is, and you could tell. despite looking lost, and sometimes bored when you’re explaining the books.

so every 2 weeks, the father would return with his daughter, after he got back from volleyball— and you’d help them pick out on certain books.

rintarou assumed he’d never take a liking in anyone again, but,, here he is. and he doesn’t know how you’ll react to that.

but it’s worth a try— he’d try and get your number when he’d see you again

the next time you see him, the middle blocker’s alone. and he tells you that he needs more picture books for asuka, since she’s staying over at his volleyball friend’s house for a day

“Y/N,”

“yes?” you turn your head, meeting his stare. he looks well,, himself. like how he first sought out for your help a few weeks back

“,, could i get your number? y’know, just in case asuka wanted worded books in the future. you’ve helped a lot, so,,”

you smile, “is this your way of hitting on me?”

he didn’t think it was that obvious, “what?— i mean,” he fumbles to reason out, feeling a bit more awkward. because yes, he’s asking you out but,, he has the power to make things more laxed, y’know?

truthfully, you don’t know much about him. you know a lot about his daughter, sure! but you don’t know anything about her biological mother, or what happened, or why she’s not taking asuka to the bookstore

but you chose not to ask, out of respect. he’d tell you some other day. “i’m just teasing,” you smile, moving to get a small piece of paper— writing your digits on the paper, and placing it in his pocket

“i’d like to see you again,” you smile, “say hi to asuka for me.”

the middle blocker left the store in content, absolutely sure that asuka would love to see you again even when she can’t form proper sentences.

sakusa kiyoomi

didn’t think he’d be fit to be a father— but here he is

though he seems cold, he does take responsibility, and he does love and care for his child, seina

it’s not like he’ll be posting pictures of his child everywhere— i mean, even if he had a different personality, he still wouldn’t be posting his kid everywhere

but he does cherish seina, like his life depended on it. he’d still silently watch her cross out word puzzles in a messy matter, he’d silently listen to her talk about her favorite pastries

he loves her!

so that’s why it made him mad, when even after 4 years of seina being born, her mother made little to no effort in spending time with her

doesn’t matter if it was a simple gesture like tucking her in, or showing up to a birthday— she just,, never did.

it was almost as if she was ignoring seina, which causes some distraught on the child’s behalf— which passed on the negative feeling to him

like,, seina wasn’t an unbearable kid. sure, she acted up here and there, that’s an issue kiyoomi has been trying to fix on his own

but it was nothing too concerning, and it was containable. but his wife treated her like she was absolutely unbearable

and it was super strange because, she’d act normal around him, but would barely acknowledge her own daughter’s existence

so what did kiyoomi do? he confronted her, of course.

and no— his wife wasn’t cheating, and nothing tragic happened that would’ve caused her to be this way

she was just,, lazy

“so.. you gave birth and stopped caring for her? is that it?” furious was an understatement, considering that his wife forgot to make her daughter breakfast

which caused her to sneak out of the house, and ask for some breakfast from some nice neighbors.

“look, if you want nothing to do with her, just say that. i’m taking seina, and leaving.” so yeah now he’s a single father.

to say he didn’t love her was too quick, a part of him didn’t love the fact that his wife loved him, but didn’t show any sign of affection towards her daughter.

he knew it was going to fade away anyway. his feelings for his unofficial ex wife.

and i don’t think he’d plan on seeing new people, since now these days— people just like the idea of being with him

which meant that most people would’ve been scared away, or turned off if they really sat down in a conversation with him

besides the point, kiyoomi was taking his daughter to the bakery again— as she was craving new pastries, and wanted to go to the new bakery that just opened near by

and kiyoomi was like “why not ig” and took her there— but then, this is where he’d meet you for the first time

you were one of the bakers, and it’s not like he was going to pay attention to you— until you did something even HE couldn’t do

“papa, whyyyy” the whining sounding painful in his ears, as his daughter clung to the display of pastries “can’t we get moreeee??”

“seina,” he sighs, “no, we can’t.”

“but—”

“papa, you’re no fair!” her bottom lip trembles, and he could almost FEEL the judgmental stares of the other customers in the bakery

and this is where you come in, “is something the matter?”

“papa won’t.. get me more!” she stares at the selection of pastries, “i’ve been so nice but.. it’s no fair!” her eyes tear up

“don’t cry,” you bend down to blot her tears away with a tissue, “y’know, he probably has a reason, but you’re in luck— actually!” you maneuver behind the counter

you come out from behind, presenting a fresh batch of pastries— that were just right to his daughter’s liking, to the point that it shut her up entirely

“they’re on the house, today’s our opening day, so it’s the bakery’s treat!”you state in a warming matter, grabbing a paper bag to place the pastries in

kiyoomi stares at you, observing you quietly— you could feel his cold stare, even though he’s wearing a medical face mask, that covers about half of his face

you blink, not knowing what is going through his head, and you gesture to his daughter to take them

you clearly don’t know who he is— and that gives kiyoomi some sort of relief, compared to the other customers that are murmuring to each other “sakusa kiyoomi’s here with his daughter! is this what he does in his free time?”

kiyoomi takes the paper bag, giving some sort of non verbal acknowledgement, before he takes his daughter’s hand and leaves

“bye, kind person!” seina calls out to you, which catches you off guard— this causes your coworkers to coo at the girl’s words

“didn’t know sakusa’s daughter was so cute!”

and you’d assume that your interactions with the quiet stranger and his daughter would end at that, but no! life is full of surprises.

the tall masked father comes in again, a little bit before closing time— you were absolutely beat, your back feeling as if boulders were glued to the back, and your feet burning from all of the rush

“oh, what could i do for you?”

he stays quiet, but a small presence sticks behind him, and peers up to you. the face is familiar to you, so you wave “hi there! it’s nice to see you again.”

“i wanna say thanks.” her rounded eyes practically shimmer when they lay themselves on the pastries again, but she shakes her head “for the pastries! they’re very tasty.”

“i’m glad you like them, what was your favorite part of the pastry?”

“the filling! twas yummy!” she gives a toothy grin, “tell me, where ‘dya learn to bake like that?”

kiyoomi stares at the scene unfolding before him. it was.. new. unfamiliar— he hasn’t seen his daughter act like this with anyone else— besides him and his team mates. so, he simply watched.

seina babbled and babbled, much to the your amusement— and the other staff members. you listened to her with your full attention, your interest never wavering in the slightest

it’s a bit later, kiyoomi holds a tired seina in his arms— you expect him to leave the bakery, his daughter’s wishes been fulfilled, and he wouldn’t have a reason to stick around

but then he presents to you a large stack of cash “for the pastries. my,, daughter really liked them.”

your eyes widen, “sir! i told you, the pastries were on the house!” you shake your head, “either way, i can’t take this! it’s too much for some pastries!”

“no, seina insists. in fact, she’s entirely why i’m here.” his tone stays consistent, but even with the mask— you could tell that he’s smiling. “she’s well,, everything. if she’s set on something, then she’ll do everything to achieve her goal.”

you smile at the statement, “thanks for bringing her here sir..?”

kiyoomi hesitates to tell you his name for a moment, an unfamiliar, yet familiar pound in his chest rises— he chooses to not figure it out right now, considering that it would be too soon to pursue a romantic relationship.

but, if his daughter brought him here, then it must be for a reason. “kiyoomi.”

“right,” you smile, “thanks for coming here, kiyoomi. you can give me a call, if seina wants any more pastries.” you write your number on a piece of paper, and hand it to him

he doesn’t reply, but he does take the piece of paper anyway— keeping it in his pocket

and for once, he thinks that he doesn’t hate having to go to the bakery weekly., because there’ll be a warm presence there to greet him— and of course, seina.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own hq!! and it’s characters. haikyuu!! belongs to furudate haruichi, i only own the writing and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, reupload, translate, or use my works for audio readings without permission :))

[flosbelova]

I’ll Always Protect You

florence pugh x fem!reader

warnings: mention of death threats.

word count: 1.7k

summary: you and florence had been dating for a while. when she posts you on her Instagram, you receive a bunch of hate comments and florence defends you and your relationship.

request from @the-loving-quotes​

Dating Florence Pugh has been one of the greatest decisions you have ever made in your life. You both have managed to keep your relationship lowkey until she randomly posts you on her Instagram. It was a photo of you looking at this mountain view at sunset from the balcony. She captioned it “My happy place.” 

Your heart started to race as soon as you saw a photo of yourself on her Instagram-- and the fact that she tagged you almost made you pass out.

You looked through her comments and let’s just say most of it wasn't what you would have expected. Some were positive-- for example, there were comments that read:

“OH MY GOSH IT CONFIRMED! I'M SO HAPPY”

“I’m so proud of you <3”

“You guys are the absolute cutest!”

Then, there were comments that weren’t so positive. It was a mixture of homophobic comments and comments that said “Florence deserves better.”

Of course, they hurt, but you didn’t mind at first and chose to focus on the more positive comments. 

-

A couple days pass and you also decide to post Florence on your Instagram. As you hit “post,” your phone instantly started buzzing with notifications. Again, the comments were all a mixture of the positives and the negatives. However, you wanted to focus on the positive side and ignored the comments.

-

You posted Florence on your Instagram story, and you received a lot of DM’s. Although you don’t open your DM’s, you decided to check just for the hell of it. As soon as you swiped to your message requests, you instantly regretted swiping. 

“Kill yourself. You don’t deserve Florence.”

Tears started to well up in your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away when you heard Florence come into the living room.

“Dinner’s ready, darling,” she says, holding a wooden spoon.

“Hm? Oh, right. I’ll be there in a sec,” you respond.

“Is everything alright, love?” she walks towards you with a concerned look on her face.

You take a deep breath. “Yes, everything’s fine.” You clench your jaw hoping Florence would drop the subject.

She pouts and looks at you with worry. Florence knows every little detail about you. She knows that nothing is ever “fine,” when it follows with you clenching your jaw. However, Florence doesn’t like to overstep on your boundaries, so she drops the subject and figures she’ll ask you later. 

“Alright, love. C’mon, let's eat. I’ve made your favorite,” she says, giving you a soft smile.

-

You loved Florence’s cooking and you always made sure to compliment her dishes whenever she cooked. However, tonight was quiet. The two of you sat in silence, quietly eating your dinner. 

You were grateful that Florence knew to get off your back whenever you were in a mood. That’s one of the things that you appreciated most about her, her ability to understand your emotions and how you cope with them. 

You knew that she would eventually ask you what happened as you have both communicated that suffering in silence wasn’t healthy.

You finished dinner early and asked yourself to be excused. You headed to bed as soon as you finished your meal. Florence stayed in the kitchen to tidy up and to give you some more space.

-

Laying on your side, you couldn’t help but to grab your phone and scroll through your notifications. As hurt as you were already, you were too stubborn to gain some self-control. As terrible as that message was, your comment section got even worse. Not only was it filled with homophobic comments, but you were also getting sent death threats. You had checked Florence’s account and pressed on your photo. You noticed that she turned off the comments.

You felt the bed behind you dip as an arm wrapped around your torso.

“Hi,” Florence whispers, and she rests her chin on your shoulder.

“Hi,” you weakly respond. You sigh as you turn your phone off and place it on the bedside table. You turn around in Florence’s arm and face her.

Florence gave you a worried smile and she wiped the tears on your face. You were so busy scrolling through the hate comments that you hadn’t noticed that tears were falling from your eyes.

“Oh, my love.” Florence places a gentle kiss on your forehead. She then looks at you with worry in her eyes. Florence couldn’t imagine what was going through your mind.

“I know you saw the comments,” she begins, “I saw them too. As soon as I saw the hate comments, I immediately turned them off.”

You sniffled and took a deep breath. “I got death threats,” you say, your voice breaking.

“What?” Florence says, appalled. Florence could feel her heart race and feel herself be filled with rage.

“That’s it, I’m making a post, this is unbelievable,” Florence says getting up to get her phone.

“No, please, you don’t have to,” you plead, “it’ll only make things worse.”

“No it won’t, Y/n, I promise you,” Florence says, already typing in her notes.

“You can’t promise me something that you have no control over,” you say coldly.

Florence pauses. She looks over at you, takes a deep breath and pouts. She stares at you for a while, studying your face. Florence is the type of person to defend the people she loves and doesn’t care if it will give her a bad rep. You just so happen to be one of the people that Florence loves, and she will do whatever it takes to defend you and her love for you.

“It doesn’t matter, what matters is that someone I love is being sent death threats, so please, let me say something,” she says, reaching for your hand.

“I really don’t deserve you,” you sigh.

“You do Y/n, you deserve every bit of me as much as I deserve every bit of you,” Florence says, caressing your cheek. 

-

A few days passed and Florence posted a video on her Instagram regarding the hate you had been receiving. 

“To my “fans,” who have sent a tremendous amount of hate to my girlfriend, Y/n, kindly unfollow me. I do not need your negativity towards my relationship with her. The hate you throw at her is hate you throw at me. The death threats you throw at her, are also death threats you throw at me. It is not your place to tell me who I should and should not love, nor is it any of your business. I do not appreciate the comments you have thrown at her. She does not deserve it, and nor do I. I am happy with Y/n. She makes me a better person. So please, leave my relationship alone and stop sending my girlfriend death threats. I will not ask again.”

After watching the video, you were in shock. Even if you had talked about it a couple days prior, you still didn’t expect that she would actually post it. Florence kept the comments on and fortunately, it was filled with massive support from other celebrities. You were grateful.

-

Florence had an interview with Jimmy Kimmel this week to discuss her recent and future projects. Of course, her video regarding your relationship was a topic of discussion. You stayed backstage and watched Florence’s interview from her dressing room.

“Okay, I think everyone here has seen the video that you had recently posted regarding your relationship,” Jimmy says.

“Yeah, I hope so,” Florence chuckles nervously.

“So tell me, if you’re comfortable, why you had said what you needed to say?” he asks.

“Did you watch the video?” Florence says sarcastically, earning a couple laughs from the crowd. “Um, I figured that I needed to. I mean my girlfriend was getting sent death threats for no apparent reason and it needed to stop.” This earned Florence a clap from the audience.

“That’s fair. God, the internet is so toxic, isn’t it?” Jimmy complains.

“Yeah,” Florence agreed. “Y/n and I had been dating for a while now and we’d managed to keep it lowkey. I just thought that when I’d finally posted her that I wouldn’t receive such horrid comments. Which is why I felt the need to address this because I hate seeing the people I love get hurt.”

A couple people from the crowd “Awwed”

“So, tell me what it is about Y/n that just makes you so in love with her?” Jimmy asked curiously.

Florence smiled as she thought about the things that she loved most about you. “Her smile was something that caught my eyes right off the bat. She has such a kind smile and I would do everything just to keep her smiling.”

The crowd “Awwed” again.

“Also, Y/n is so loving. She won’t admit it because she likes to be that “tough” person on the outside, but inside she’s a big softie. She gives the best cuddles. I also love how she makes me tea every time I come home from filming.”

“Aww, that must be nice. I think we all need a Y/n in our life, right?” Jimmy says.

The camera pans to the crowd who was cheering and nodding their heads.

“Well, too bad, Y/n is only one person and I’m the lucky girl who has her,” Florence says wittily. 

The crowd laughed and clapped.

“Alright, well it was lovely having you, Florence,” Jimmy says, shaking Florence’s hand. “And that’s all for tonight, we’ll see you tomorrow!”

-

On the ride home, you rested your head on Florence’s shoulders.

“You really had to call me out, didn’t you?” you ask.

“Yeah, maybe just a little,” Florence says, making a gesture.

You chuckle and look at her. “Did I ever tell you that you are the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid my eyes on?”

“Yes, Y/n, you tell me everyday,” she says, grabbing your cheek.

You smile and close the gap between you. Florence melts into the kiss and moves her hand to the back of your head, running her hands through your hair. You pull away to catch some air and Florence rests her forehead against yours.

“I love you, Flo. Thank you for everything.”

“I love you too Y/n. and don’t thank me, you know I’ll always protect you.”

The End

[fruitcoops]

Hi, I love your blog so much! I recently got ankle lateral ligament reconstruction done, and as an athlete, it sucks so bad. I watched my basketball team play yesterday, and it felt really horrible to watch them lose by one point in overtime when I know I would have made a difference if I were on the court... I know you have lots of asks and prompts, but if you have the time and want to, could you possibly hurt me more than I’m already hurting with some angsty ankle injury stuff😩 like maybe Cap watching the Lions lose without him.

Thank you for all the awesome fics you write! Your blog is amazing!

Anon, this ask really struck a chord with me and I wanted to do it justice as best I could--going through a sports injury like that is the worst feeling in the world, and watching your teammates play without you just adds salt to the wound. Sending all the love and healing vibes your way, okay? Please keep me updated on how you're feeling if you feel comfortable <3

Combined with an ask for pre-Coops and Sirius' photo of Remus! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove

TW for canonical injury and mentioned scars (Remus)

Sirius felt a nudge at his arm and his irritation flared, but he did not take his eyes off the game. “Fucking hell,” he muttered as James missed yet another blatant pass. There’s three.

The next nudge was more insistent.

“What?” he snapped, sparing half a glance to his left and feeling his stomach swoop.

Remus raised his eyebrows and held the mouthguard out further. “Either put this in or unclench your jaw.”

You’re not my mother, Sirius almost snarked back, just to be even more of an asshole. He was cold from being at the rink without his gear, severely pissed off by the general bullshit happening on the ice, and the itch in the boot locked around his stupid fucked-up ankle was slowly driving him mad.

Remus offered the mouthguard again, and Sirius’ temper cooled by a few degrees at the soft encouragement on his face. Pretty, his brain supplied. He swallowed hard around his sudden dry mouth and shoved the plastic between his teeth, beating back the unruly emotions with a mental baseball bat. Nope. Not tonight. Focus on being angry.

Logan got distracted, and Finn paid the price as an enforcer slammed him against the boards; he bounced back immediately, but Sirius ground the mouthguard so hard it squeaked. “Tabarnak—”

“Come with me for a sec,” Remus said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the angry shouts of Lions fans.

Sirius shook his head. What he wouldn’t give to be in the heart of the fight, letting off some of the steam that had been building with no outlet for weeks. “Game’s not over.”

Remus pressed his lips together, but said nothing; Sirius’ throat constricted as he looked at the scoreboard. There may have been three full minutes left on the clock, but the Lions had already lost—unless they pulled a miracle out of their asses, this game would be a stain on their record. Or if they just let me play.

Sirius sighed through his nose. The urge had been growing stronger the longer he stayed cooped up and restless, banging at the walls of his brain and bringing headache after headache.

“Cap.” The hand on the back of his bicep was surprisingly gentle and he closed his eyes as Remus gave him a light tug. “Come on. We can at least be productive instead of sitting here and stewing.”

He smells nice. How does he always smell so nice? Sirius stood and followed Remus down the tunnel, not even bothering to force smiles for the people pounding on the glass partitions. Don’t focus on the game.

Focus on his shoulders, something close to his heart suggested. You like his shoulders.

He scrunched his nose up at the thought—if he dwelled on the smooth, strong curve of Remus’ upper back for any longer, he would start remembering the one time he saw them bare, covered in sweat with scars that shone like moonlight and—

“Are you okay?” Remus asked, snapping him back to reality. Sirius jumped and concern flickered over the golden planes of his face. “You’re twitchy tonight.”

“Just…” He made a vague, aborted motion toward the ice before continuing toward the PT room, though he did not miss the worried look Remus shot him. Fantastic, now I look like a dick and an idiot.

“What’s going on, Sirius?” The door clicked closed behind them and Remus leaned against it with his arms crossed loosely as Sirius limped over to the table and sat down, pulling the mouthguard out. He stared at the floor and the hunk of plastic—don’t think about how nice his voice sounds around your name. Don’t.

He shook his head; through the door, the sounds of the game were faint. “They’re better than this.”

“Yep.”

“They’re all going to be angry tomorrow, which makes them sloppy.”

“Probably.”

“Coach will be upset.”

“No question.”

“It’s the Badgers.”

Remus made a face. “I know, right?”

“They’re a good team, but—” He tightened his jaw again and looked away.

“But we’re better,” Remus finished for him.

“Yeah.” Silence fell between them for a few moments, though it wasn’t uncomfortable. Being quiet around Remus was never uncomfortable, and Sirius was pathetically grateful for every scrap of it he could get. “I—the game would be different if I was out there.”

“Would it?”

“It would.” He had been going over every mistake for two and a half hours, placing himself in like a chess piece to stop the missed passes, fumbled pucks, and thoughtless plays. “They need me with them.”

The paper crinkled as Remus sat down next to him, and every one of Sirius’ senses went on high alert. “They need to you get better,” he said simply, those caramel-apple eyes making Sirius’ knees go weak. “Have you been doing your exercises?”

“Of course,” he scoffed.

“Good.” There was no defensiveness or indignation in Remus’ voice—guilt snapped, a firecracker behind his teeth.

“Sorry.”

Remus smiled wryly. “When you’re around injured hockey players all day long, you get used to a little bit of bitchiness.”

“I’m not bitchy!” Sirius spluttered. The poorly-concealed amusement on Remus’ face made mortification heat his cheeks. “I’m not!”

“Uh-huh.” The note of smug disbelief should not have been as attractive as it was. “Alright, lay down.”

Sirius swore he heard a few crackling noises as his brain short-circuited. “Quoi?”

“I’m not kneeling on freezing linoleum to check out your ankle, Cinderella,” Remus snorted. “Now get a wiggle on.”

“You have the strangest sayings,” he said as he laid back and stretched his leg out, bewildered and yet somehow relieved.

“And you—” Remus pulled the top buckle free. “—have no appreciation for the great American north.”

“I can take it off,” Sirius mumbled, feeling redness rise once again.

He cocked an eyebrow. “The boot? I might not be a muscle-bound athlete, but I’m pretty sure I can manage a couple strips of Velcro.”

“No, it’s—doesn’t touching people’s feet freak you out? Like, the sweat and everything?”

“If it did, I’d have to find another profession, because I’m damp all the time from you fuckers and you all seem to have a habit of breaking things below the knee. Bend.”

Sirius complied, drawing his knee toward his chest. His bare foot looked weird in the bright lights, pale and still swollen, but Remus was as golden as ever. You can watch from afar, he conceded when the cute little furrow appeared on Remus’ forehead while he felt around the bone. Just for a little while. “Your hands are warm,” he said before he could stop himself.

Remus glanced up, and his small smile caused a flood of butterflies in Sirius’ stomach. “Thanks. They’re usually pretty cold, so I’m glad I’m not accidentally giving you foot hypothermia.”

“Is that real?”

“No,” Remus laughed. Sirius wished he could keep that sound forever. “How’s that feel?”

“Uh, fine.” He blinked a couple times to come back to himself as Remus put light pressure on the sole of his foot. “Still fine.”

“You’re a lot more flexible than before. Things are healing well.”

A loud buzzer went off outside—Sirius closed his eyes as disappointment and frustration fired up once more. The crowd wasn’t cheering. The windows weren’t shaking. He didn’t even want to look at the TV to check the score. I should be out there, he thought for the umpteenth time. I’m letting them down.

“I’m sorry,” Remus said quietly as he worked through a few more exercises.

“Not your fault.”

“It’s not yours, either.”

Sirius wanted to believe him. “I’m the captain.”

“And you’re being responsible by doing this with me so you can heal faster.” People rushed past the door outside, but the PT room remained peaceful. Sirius stared at the plain ceiling and wished for a miracle. “They miss you.”

“Y’know, that’s not exactly making me feel better.”

“Sorry.” They lapsed back into silence. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Cool.”

Sirius chewed the inside of his lip for a solid two minutes, following Remus’ simple instructions without looking at him. He should have been out there with them, ankle be damned. It was basically healed anyway; they were just tying up loose ends, and maybe Remus needed to be a little less careful. “Is this really necessary?”

“I’m gonna give you five seconds to ask a different question.”

“I’m just saying, it feels fine and—”

“Time’s up.” Remus let go of his foot and Sirius only spared a moment to mourn the loss of his comforting touch before he caught the stormy, mulish stubbornness that took the place of Remus’ concentration. “Sit.”

“I am.”

He narrowed his eyes, and Sirius dragged himself upright with a huff. Arguing with Remus Lupin was about as useful as arguing with a brick wall, and that was coming from someone who won the ‘Most Stubborn’ superlative at their last end-of-year party. “First of all, ankles are annoying and the soft tissue will still be damaged even if the bone is healed. Second, it’s my job to fix you up so your boys stop whining to me about healing you faster. And third, I’m not giving up on you.”

Sirius paused for a long moment. “What?”

“I’m not giving up,” Remus repeated. His jaw set and he made direct eye contact. “I would love nothing more than to kick Snape in the kneecaps and let you go out there as soon as you can stand on your own, but that’s not what I’m here for. I’m here to make sure you’re ready to kick ass and take names no matter what that little shit was trying to do. So don’t you dare sit there and try to chicken out at the finish line, because I know you want this even more than I do.”

In his chest, Sirius heart was hammering like he had just run five miles. I’m not giving up on you. Sirius had never wanted to kiss him more. “Thank you.”

Remus softened with a slow breath. “We’re in this together, Sirius. You and me.”

“I know.”

“Then let’s get to work. Next time you play the Badgers, make ‘em regret this game.”

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

Sirius walked back toward the locker room feeling rather nauseous. The whole team leaked their bad moods into the air—Arthur had barely looked at them before sending them home with a quiet “we’ll talk more tomorrow”, the equivalent of an arrow through Sirius’ heart. I need a pick-me-up, he thought as the rest of the guys trooped out in a melancholy raincloud. He fist-bumped each of them, per tradition, but their responses were weak at best.

Ice cream sounded good. Maybe a milkshake. Oh, who was he kidding, he needed a solid hug and something other than ice to look at. Not for the first time, he contemplated getting a dog, just so the house wouldn’t be empty and dark when he returned.

Laughter rang out ahead and Sirius inhaled sharply, letting the sound roll over him. “I’m not kidding!” Moody chuckled.

“Bullshit,” Remus countered, still snickering. “There is no way—”

“I’ve been around here longer than you’ve been alive, kid.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” Remus groaned, though Sirius could hear the smile in his voice even from around the corner. “You only bring it up every goddamn day.”

“Brat.”

Sirius entered the room just in time to see Remus playfully knock the side of his foot against Moody’s; both were grinning. “Isn’t it past your bedtime, old man?”

Moody nodded to him. “Night, twelve.”

“A demain,” Sirius called, offering a slight smile as his eyes lingered on Remus. He was leaning back against the wall with stick tape in his hands—his hands, which never failed to make Sirius throw caution to the wind—and raised it in farewell. “See you, Loops. Thanks again.”

“No problem, Cap.”

He grabbed his duffel off the floor and slid his keys, wallet, and phone into his pockets as Moody and Remus resumed their conversation. He wondered how long they usually stuck around, and if they would oppose him staying—he wouldn’t interrupt, but being around people who weren’t going through the five stages of grief already felt nice.

An idea struck as Remus’ laugh raised goosebumps on his arms once again. With a careful glance over his shoulder, he slipped his phone out and snapped a picture before hurrying off toward his car. His breaths were shallow; that was such a creepy move, and surely one of them noticed—

No voices chased him. Nobody gave him strange looks. He waited until he was safely in the front seat of the car before unlocking his phone, and all the air in his lungs left in a rush.

The photo was perfect. It caught the lopsided tilt to Remus’ mouth, his slender-but-strong fingers, his long legs, the scrunch of his nose mid-laugh. Everything Sirius never let himself look at for long. He didn’t have much space left among the collection of paper memories on his dresser, but maybe if he put it in the back where nobody would see it unless they knew where to look…

He turned the car on. Later. He would print it out and deal with the taut rubber-band-ball of feelings later. Until then, he could settle for the imprint of Remus’ warmth taking away the pain in his ankle and the determination on his face as he promised to bring Sirius back from the personal hell he was living in. You and me, he had said, and Sirius wanted nothing more than to believe it.

[krabmeat]

can you do,, a karlnapity x NB reader where,, the reader has tics? it can be HCS or,, a scenario,, whatever you want,, :V (xe/xem pronouns please,,)

a-also I'm kinda anxious to ask,, but can I be always anxious anon?

𝚒𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝!

𝙺𝚊𝚛𝚕𝙽𝚊𝚙𝙸𝚝𝚢 𝚡 𝚝𝚒𝚌!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 (𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌)

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: Karl, Sapnap, Quackity

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: tic repression, mentions of stress

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜:

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH-- i got caught up in other projects and general personal life, im so sorry always anxious anon :[ but id be absolutely honored to have you be apart of my anons, welcome to the group!!! i should really make a list of my anons, huh? regardless, i hope the fic is up to your standards! anyone with tics feel free to tell me if any of this is inaccurate or give feedback, id be glad to receive feedback!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-Each of the boys find out about Y/ns tics individually!

-Karl finds out after the two finish binging a really intense show together! Once the episode was finished, Karl turned to Y/n when he saw Y/n consistently snapping their fingers. He didn’t know what they were doing so he did snappy finger guns at them jokingly, but he soon became concerned when they didn’t stop. Y/n had to explain what was happening while they were ticcing.

“Y/N!! OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO-“

Karl stops in confusion as he stares at his friend. Y/n is watching the credits roll as they snap their fingers together at a rapid yet spirratic pace. Their shoulders seem to be a bit tense, but Karl doesn’t seem to notice this as he chuckles and does snapping finger guns at Y/n in a joking manner. Soon he becomes concerned when they don’t stop which is when he sees their scrunched shoulders.

“Y/n? Y/n are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah! Don’t worry, I’m just ticcing. Please just leave me be for a sec, it’ll pass.”

“What- ticcing?”

Karl then proceeds to take out his phone and googles what ticcing is.

“OHHHH, OKAY GOTCHA!”

Y/n lets out a chuckle at their clumsily curious friend.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

-Quackity found out when he and Y/n finally met up for the first time. When they found each other in the airport, Y/n kept shouting "BAM!" because they were just so excited and happy!

"Y/n? Y/n!! I'm over here!"

Quackity quickly walks over to Y/n until they finally spot him. Y/n is of course, clearly happy! So happy that they’ve started shouting “BAM!” over and over again. Quackity hesitates a bit, confused. He at first thinks that it's a joke or something that they are doing until he realizes that Y/n hasn't stopped. “What's going on, are you okay?” It takes Y/n a second to realize that they’re vocally ticcing- very loudly at that- so they quickly grab Quackity by his black hoodie and the two of them start running to Y/n’s car. Y/n is sitting in the driver's seat while Quackity is in the passenger's. He tries to speak up and question Y/n before they put a finger up, signaling for him to wait. They breathe in through their mouth and out through their nose for a couple of minutes until finally their vocal tics have subsided. “Sorry, I was meaning to tell you sooner since we had planned to meet up weeks before but I didn't want you thinking I was weird or something, I didn't think it would happen when you arrived at the airport-! Do you know what tics are?”

“Ticks? Like the bug?”

Y/n chuckles lightly, shaking their head before continuing to tell their friend what ticcing is.

“Ohhhh, so that's what it is then. Why would you think I'd think you're weird cause of that? Seems fine to me!” Y/n sighs in relief, happy that they have such an understanding friend.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

-Sapnap found out when the two of them were doing a stream irl together!

-The two of them were just out on the town, chilling in a small park

-Y/n was trying really, really hard to repress their tics because they were in front of a couple thousand of people and even more in public

-The chat and Sapnap both noticed how uncomfortable and slightly worn Y/n looked, so they ended the stream a bit early

“Alright chat, were gonna leave this stream at that for today!-”

Chat knew why the stream was ending early, I mean they were all worried for Y/n after all! And so was Sapnap. He could see how tense Y/n looked so he figured that the camera in their face wasn't the best thing to be going on at the moment for them. Y/n said a brief goodbye to the stream before it ended. Once the camera was finally down and away, that's when he asked if there was anything up.

“Hey Y/n, is everything alright? You seem tense dude, I'm worried.”

Right as he said that, they started rapidly blinking and rubbing their palms together uncontrollably.

“Yeah- yeah, search up ticcing for context, I've been meaning to tell you sooner. I'm sorry this happened at such a bad time.”

He searches up ticcing and gets himself into a short rabbit hole of quickly researching what it is and when it happens. Soon Sapnap realized that since he and Y/n decided to stream on the day that they arrived in Texas, they must be extremely fatigued and jet-lagged which is why their tics were acting up so strongly. The two of them just sat there for a minute, waiting patiently for Y/n’s tics to subside. Anyone who walked past and gave them a weird look, Sapnap shot a glare right back at them which was enough for the people to walk quicker. Once Y/n’s tics stopped, they immediately tried to apologize.

“Oh my god I'm so sorry for not saying anything, I didn’t think-”

“Hey, hey! It's really not a problem, I totally get it! Let me know if there's anything I can ever help you with. Wanna go back to my place and watch a movie or something?”

And that they did! The two had a Coraline movie marathon and they both ended up falling asleep on the couch.

-All in all, the karlnapity boys were all super supportive and understanding of Y/n and their tics! It didn't change their opinion on them at all and in fact just made the four closer than before :]

-But the fellas totally ended up getting on a discord call to do a bunch of research together to figure out how to make Y/n feel the most comfortable, as well as more information on tics and how to help with them!

[ct-multifandom]

Nirvana Initiative open discussion post

I want to start a convo here on tumblr with all you AI enjoyers because so few people are talking about all the interesting content we’ve gotten and are still getting. I’m encouraging you all to rb, comment, whatever and go over this stuff with me! I wanna talk about AI!

Below I’ll rant about some things that caught my eye (pun not intended).

When the first AINI trailer came out I wanted to make an analysis and theory post but then I thought about it and was like. Wtf do I even say. I don’t have Twitter so I had to read up on Hidden Bats here and I watched Ryan Geever on YouTube’s videos about the ARG which I highly recommend because his explanation is very thorough and his theories are really onto something.

He talks about a lot of good stuff like the Philadelphia Experiment, the plot of an old, similar series this writing team worked on, and the relevance of the Lemniscate ARG, which I would not have connected on my own. I won’t retype everything he said, but I’d love to discuss some of the extremely solid connections he made.

Through his videos, I also found out the achievement list has been leaked. I took a look at it myself, but I won’t say anything about it because of potential spoilers. There’s some stuff that interests me on there, though.

I’ll make a bulleted list of questions I have:

Obv question: what’s the timeline here in relation to the events of AITSF?

What happened to Saito? And Yagyu’s body?

Why’d Date give up PSYNCing? What is he up to now, still ABIS or something else? Is he taking oxytocin without Aiba’s administration?

Did Iris recover from her brain tumor or not?

Is Komeji’s head a futuristic mascot suit that can emote where his forehead dot is the eye hole or is he just Shovelforge George irl? Is there a secret guy in there or is that his actual body?

Are the VLR spacesuits a cameo or do they have significance?

The game is made by “Team Zero Escape” and has more ZE references than usual. The ARG also has references to SHIFTing. Will the ZE universe be relevant to the story?

I’m behind on Hidden Bats, but is the current arc kind of like the ambidex game where the girls have to trust each other to get the best result, and Lumi trusts Mari, but Mari doesn’t trust her back?

Whereas the choice between Aine and Binato was between two second degree murderers, maybe this choice will be that Lumi did something in the past to hurt Mari, but Mari is holding a grudge in the present and is willing to endanger her as revenge, and we have to decide which is worse (like obv tAI the vote but y’know)

Okayyy nvm *edit* I caught up and it looks like as of now Lumina is just a normal nice girl and Mariha is a fuckin ass. I guess the voting this time won’t be trying to decide the lesser of two evils or neither, but to decide whether to treat a good and bad person equally or to deem Mariha unworthy of saving as some sort of extreme “justice”.

The last two characters’ names and pics were dug up by tech whizes from the website code and I like their designs. Wonder what their whole thing is gonna be.

Tokiko and Naix being real is very interesting. Dk what to say, but Iris was clearly right that they exist and are shady. Perhaps it’s true that her tumor-induced psychosis made her construe some stuff as it applied to the last case, but they’re very much involved in this one. How did Iris even find out about it?

Another obv one but why does Ryuki look so similar to Yagyu and why do they have similar naming conventions?

I’m curious about Gen, Shoma, and Kizuna because they’re new, but we don’t know a ton about them. Also Chikara sus.

Edit: forgot the locksmith guy even existed for a sec wow

What’s very curious is how Amame is getting such a major upgrade from being a background character like the driver or receptionist to being an actual major player. I love when stories elevate minor characters to the major cast for new arcs, but hmm…

Why isn’t Pewter in jail? This could point to NI being in a whole different timeline from TSF if he never did anything illegal in the first place.

The six years ago/six years later thing they have going on is confusing when you’re trying to analyze trailers. The leaked achievements tell us which protag’s story has which somnium, but which characters are associated with which time period?

Interested in how Sunaiku and the Hidden Bats victims will play into the game and to what extent. The last ARG was kind of unrelated to the plot of TSF, but everything there was included, albeit with a twist. Also, the last ARG feels somehow more relevant to this game than to the last? If there’s an AI3 will Hidden Bats be relevant to that as well?

Timelines aside, please let Ota keep his TSF character development. Also, Mayumi hasn’t appeared in any trailers and that’s making me sad because y’know,,,

I hope they talk more about the Wadjet system. Can Aiba and Tama use it to communicate with each other? Can they intentionally simulate ESP across time using it?

Do all PSYNCers have AI balls or is it just the two? Did Ryuki exist as one of the unnamed other PSYNCers in TSF and we just didn’t meet him yet?

Oh here’s one: in the character trailer, they list the VAs of the four PCs, Mizuki, Aiba, Ryuki, and Tama. They don’t list anyone else’s name. Maybe I’ve got my tinfoil hat on, but what if knowing someone’s VA would be a spoiler, 13 sentinels style? Maybe someone “new” is actually someone else who has the same VA as before?

Ik Mizuki was playing 999 in the very first trailer, which implies that ZE is a video game in the AI world, but could they exist in the same reality through worldline SHIFTing bs? Digimon vibes

Ooo, edit, but I noticed they told us Binato was “removed from reality”, not killed, which I just found out Uchi tweeted about too. Did they teleport him to the backrooms? Are they experimenting on him? I’d suggest my beloved sci fi horror trope that they erased all evidence of his life, but his disappearance is still listed on the Sunaiku news page, so that’s not it. It’d be cool if the post updated to just be about Aine after the vote was over, though, and his twitters were deleted as well as all mention of him on Aine’s. Is he stuck in some place between realities or in a different one?

Sunaiku and Aine both have Ai in their names *puts red thread on my detective photo wall*

I’ll add more stuff if I think of more, but I want to talk about this, so let’s treat this post like a discussion board! Let’s include spoilers for the first game as well as Zero Escape, but not leaks from this one. So excited for AINI.

[jisungsplatforms]

[Chapter IV: You F*cking Minx!]

Pairing: Producer/Music Major! Han Jisung x Photographer! fem! reader

Genre: NSFW! Smut; non idol au, college au, strangers to lovers

Warnings: Mature Content! strong language, masterbation (m&f) (only implied this chapter), discussion of kinks, good old nudes & teasing Jisung ;)

Chapter Word Count: 2.8k (lol minus the emojis cause APPARENTLY, they count on docs)

Taglist: @hyunjeongins @seungstarss @es-kay-zee @hyunjinsplaything @formidxble @freckledquokka @lbxgsunshine @cartierbin @solistired @rainbowmagicpixecorn @http-hyxnjxn (want to be added? send an ask or a dm! <3)

You were starting to think that touching yourself every night was rather unhealthy...

It’s been over a week since you and Jisung met—a week since the both of you started your unspoken arrangement. Breathing heavily, you laid limply on your untidy bed, the only source of light available was the moon’s rays peeking through your curtains. The lower half of your body was completely rid of any clothing; the only thing covering your skin were splotches of your essence. Your phone then lit up with a notification from ‘Hannie Bear’.

1 new message(s) from Hannie Bear 🍯🧸

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: u okay baby? do u wanna sleep now?

Using your unsoiled hand, you grabbed your phone and typed as best as you could.

Me: Nah, I still have a little bit of energy left in me

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: really? cool lol

let’s chat for a bit

Me: Sure. Just hold on for a sec

You sat up and wiped your hand on the towel laid under you. Swinging one of your legs off the bed, you used your toes to pick up your garments from the floor, and quickly put them on. Two new notifications from Jisung appeared on your screen. You read his messages as you threw your dirted towel onto the floor.

Hannie Bear 🍯🧸: aight.

actually you know what? just call me please!

You laid back down and tapped on his icon, which now consisted of a selfie of himself from when he ‘needed to use’ your phone a few days ago, at the top of your screen to switch to the call screen. Your phone rang several times before Jisung answered. Through the phone, you could hear the faint sound of rustling and a groan.

“Hey,” he greeted with a raspy voice. You instinctively smiled when you heard him.

“Hey.”

Jisung cleared his throat before speaking. “So I was wondering, since— ah wait. Sorry, my throat’s kinda...”

“No, go ahead. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks,” he chuckled. “You should get some water too! You know, cause— yeah. After all that.”

You laughed, heart warming at his consideration. “Yeah. Thanks!” Bringing your phone with you, you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water. You set the call to speaker mode before putting your phone down to drink. Hearing the hilarious way Jisung took big gulps of water almost made you choke on your water.

He let out an over-exaggerated ‘ha!’ and said with a funny voice, “Refreshing!” Hearing your snort made Jisung smile. “Okay, so now that we’re both hydrated, I’ll tell you what I’ve been thinking.” You hummed to acknowledge him. “So, you know how we’ve been doing this for almost two weeks now, right?”

“Yeah…?” You picked up your phone to go back to your room.

“Okay. Well, we never really talked about, you know, things that we like.”

“Things that we like?”

“Yeah! You know what I mean?”

‘Huh?’ You thought about it for a few seconds before realizing what he was talking about. “Ohh. Do you mean our kinks?”

“There! That.”

You scoffed playfully. “I knew this conversation was bound to happen.”

“Well, then spill, girl!” Jisung said flamboyantly. “Don’t keep me waiting!”

You giggled. “Weirdo,” you whispered, softly grunting when you plopped onto your bed. “Where do you want me to start?”

“I don’t know. I guess just tell me like, what role you like playing in bed, or if you don’t even use roles at all.”

“Well, we’ve masterbated together long enough for you to know that I don’t mind either; sex is sex and it should be enjoyable, whether or not there are sub/dom roles...but I do like being submissive.”

“Oh, right. Nice,” he snickered, “Okay, now what? Vanilla or Kinky?”

“Kinky, all that way.” Jisung wanted to laugh at how fast that answer came out. “Of course, there’s nothing wrong vanilla sex, in fact, it’s very much appreciated in this household.”

“Ahh. Someone of culture. I respect that.” The both of you chuckled. “So, what are some things you want to be done to you?”

“Like, receiving?” Jisung hummed in confirmation. “I guess I like being marked? And being praised and using pet names, but of course, who doesn’t?”

“I feel you, I feel you,” he nodded on the other side of the phone. “I like that too.”

“I also like being tied up.”

Jisung sat up, wide eyed. “Rope-bunny?!”

You guffawed, hearing him so shocked like that. “What? Surprising? Remember, no kink shaming!”

“No no! It’s not like that it’s just-” he sighed through puffed cheeks, “wow, that’s fucking hot.”

“Thanks,” you giggled. “But that’s only the beginning.”

“Shit, there’s more? Holy fuck— please tell me.”

“Overstimulation & edging, I think that’s fucking hot too.” You could hear Jisung’s breath hitch on the phone, making you smirk. “I also really like choking and being able to see myself getting fucked; I think there’s a name for it, but I forgot.”

Not hearing his reply, you snorted before continuing. “And I have the biggest breeding kink ever. You know what I say: the messier the sex, the better.” You stopped when you heard Jisung take a deep breath.

“Whoa, Y/n. I-” he signed. “Let me calm down before I pop another boner ‘cause of you.”

You felt a surge of pride run through you. “What? Too much?”

“Oh, fuck no. Just insanely hot.”

You laughed, adjusting yourself to lay on your stomach. “Too bad. There was still a lot more I wanted to say,” you grinned. “You should tell me what you like then, baby. I need to know how I could please you too.”

“Hmm,” he thought to himself for a while. “So you already know that I like filthy, kinky sex too and that I usually take up the dom role but if I have to be honest. I’ve always wanted to try subbing.”

“Really?” you smiled evilly. ‘How interesting’

“Yup. I mean, I like being babied, so I think I’d really like it.”

“Oh? Would you like to try it sometime, baby boy?”

The line went dead silent for a while, filling you with worry. All of a sudden, when you were about to ask Jisung if he was okay, he whimpered. “Please?” he muttered, and you swore you could already see him pouting. Now it was your turn to take a deep breath.

“Hold on, baby boy. We both just finished touching ourselves not too long ago. Let’s do this another time.”

“Aww...Boo. You’re no fun,” Jisung’s usual cheeky self returned.

You rolled your eyes. “Sorry, but I already came 3 times tonight. Let my vagina rest, Sung.”

“Fair,” he laughed. “Does that mean I get to sub next time?”

“Hm… If you’re nice to me, then yes.”

“Oh baby, you know i’ll be the best behavior if it means getting topped by you.”

Instead of feeling horny, you only felt playfulness behind his words. “Good. I’ll be sure to give my baby a treat tomorrow then.” Jisung cheered giddily, fueling your own amusement. “By the way, what’s with the kink talk? I mean, I knew it was gonna come eventually but still.”

You couldn’t see it, but Jisung shrugged at your question. “Well, if we’re gonna be together, then I need to know everything about you that you enjoy.” Your face dropped, your chest swelling in adoration and alarm. Not hearing a response from you made him panic. “Uh- unless you don’t wanna be a thing! That-that’s fine too...i guess, w-whatever! I just—!”

Jisung stopped when he heard you giggle. “You’re so cute, Sung.” You softly said in content. “It’s getting late, baby. I’ll see you in the morning, hm?”

“Y-yeah! See you in Jung’s class, baby!”

You ended the call then slid your phone under your pillow. Pulling your blanket all the way up to your chin, you squirmed around until you were comfortable enough to sleep. The only thing in your mind was Jisung and how much your relationship with him developed way too fast. It was a little...frightening for your fragile heart.

2nd Period; Mrs. Jung’s Renaissance Literature class. Probably the most boring class ever. Everyday, you regret ever signing up for it.

You begrudgingly walked to class, purposely taking small, slow steps so you don’t have to be there on time. However, as boring as the class is, the only reason why you find it tolerable is because it is the only class you share with Jisung. Looking up, you found yourself in front of your Literature class, much to your dismay. Grumbling, you stepped inside the room to find Jisung already at his (now) usual place at the back of the class, right beside you. ‘Weird,’ you thought, seeing how it’s usually you who comes to class before him. Jisung looked up, feeling eyes on him from the front of the class, and smiled when he saw it was just you. He gestured for you to come over to him; your heart racing as you stepped closer to him.

“Hey, baby,” he greeted happily, watching you take your seat beside him.

“Hi, Sungie,” you replied, setting your camera bag onto the floor under your legs and taking your laptop out of your bag. Feeling Jisung staring at you, you tched jokingly. “Am I that attractive that you can’t keep your eyes off of me?” you laughed. What you didn’t expect, however, was Jisung’s blunt response.

“Yes.”

“O-oh? Uh…”

“I thought I made it clear that I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life,” he said truthfully, giving you a bright smile. Your eyes were wide, face heating up at his straight-forwardness. He threw you a flirty wink and chuckled, going back to sit up straight at his own seat. Flustered, you hid your face with your hoodie, tightening the drawstrings to further conceal your blush. From beside you, you could hear Jisung snort, trying not to laugh at you. Before you could scold him, the bell rang and Mrs. Jung entered the class.

Jisung’s drowsy eyes wandered the whole room for the umpteenth time. His ears only shut out the mundane information his instructor was teaching. Something about a Scottish poet named George Lauder being responsible for the advancement of the steel industry or whatever? ‘Man, what does that have to do with the renaissance era?’ It’s only been 30 minutes since the class started and he already wanted to get out of here. No matter how hard he tried focusing on the lesson, the words only went through one ear and out the other. Needless to say, it way too uninteresting for him to retain anything.

His eyes then traveled to your hunched form. He had to resist the urge to pull out his phone and take a picture of your cute face all scrunched up in concentration, your figure engulfed by the oversized purple hoodie you were wearing. In the midst of his ogling, Jisung felt a gentle kick on his right leg. His eyes focused to finally notice you side eyeing him. It was as if you were telling him ‘pay attention or else’. All he did was grin and continued gawking at you.

You rolled your eyes, deciding to not mind him and try paying attention to Mrs. Jung; even if you yourself thought the class was boring as hell. You then feel a warm hand on your left thigh. Since it was just Jisung, you shrugged his hand off of you and typed in the shared doc you both created just to talk in this class. You typed:

‘What are you doing?’

Leaning over to his own screen, Jisung read the message on his laptop then replied.

‘babe i’m sorry but i’m so fucking bored’

‘Me too, but you gotta pay attention, baby boy’

‘hmm i love it when you call me baby boy ;)’

You side-glanced him with a ‘are you serious?’ look while he merely smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as if it would seduce you.

‘Funny. Don’t you dare get horny in the middle of class, Han Jisung!’

‘:)’

Jisung made a quiet sputtering noise as he put his head down onto the table. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him fiddling his platform sneakers with his feet. You restrained yourself from laughing at him. He looked exactly like an annoyed kid on the verge of throwing a tantrum. You shook your head. ‘The poor man is really trying’

Sneakily sliding your phone into your pocket, you stood up from your seat, the chair making a slight screech, catching Jisung’s—as well several other students’— brief attention, to head to the front of the class. Signing your name into the ‘restroom log’, you briefly pointed to the door when you made eye contact with Mrs. Jung, and went to the restroom. You grinned to yourself, thinking about how Jisung would react to his little gift.

The painfully bored boy watched as you left the room. He pouted, his boredom only increased tenfold without you. He went back to his laptop, clicking on another tab to do something, when he felt his phone vibrate from his back pocket. He jolted. ‘Who the hell would text me while I’m in the middle of class?’ Jisung slowly took out his phone to check his notifications. Seeing your name on the screen, he stared in confusion.

‘Y/n? What’re you doing?’ Glancing to see if Mrs. Jung could see him, he unlocked his phone to read your message.

My baby 💘: Remember what I said last night?

Many thoughts, none of which were pg, raced through his mind. ‘What exactly are you talking about?’ He adjusted his keyboard to properly type with one hand.

Me: depends

are we talking about me subbing or your “gift”?

My baby 💘: Hmm sure. You’ll see 😉

Jisung nearly let out an audible ‘huh?’ because of your rather cryptic message. Not wanting to get caught, he hid his phone between his legs and waited for your next text. After almost a minute, this phone vibrated again. Big Mistake…

Strike 1!

‘God, Han Jisung, you fucking idiot!’ The shock unintentionally sent waves of pleasure between his legs, almost coaxing out a whimper from his mouth. He cleared throat, trying to ignore the erection that was threatening to pop up, and inconspicuously took his phone.

Strike 2!

If Jisung died at that very moment, then he wouldn’t even be mad. No regrets or anger whatsoever for his eyes was blessed with the most salacious photo of yourself. There you were, sweater pulled up to show off the lacy red bra that adorned your breasts—your arms deliberately squeezing them together to make them even more tempting than they already are—and pants pulled down enough to show a cheeky glimpse of the matching set of panties hugging your hips. Jisung swore he could feel his blood rushing to his dick and nose; he even went as far as wiping it in case he really did get a nosebleed.

‘Y/n, you minx...’’

Me: baby…

what you’re doing is very dangerous for the both of us

My baby 💘: Oh? Are you sure you didn’t forget what we talked about, baby boy

Jisung anxiously looked back and forth from his phone to his teacher. He covered his mouth when you sent another shameless nude to him. Now it was a picture of your hands cupping your breasts, your bra unclasped, threatening to slide off your shoulders. How you managed to take the photo was beyond Jisung’s comprehension. Though, now that he’s as turned on as a horny 13 year old boy on a porn site for the very first time, it’s safe to say that there was nothing on his mind except you, and you only.

He set his keyboard back to its default mode and put his head down, fingers hastily tapping on his phone to reply.

Me: come on baby

please don’t do this to me

i’m hard. i really popped a boner in the middle of class…

this is fucking embarrassing

Jisung just knew that you were laughing at him, finding great joy in his predicament. He subtly adjusted himself to do something about his hard-on. ‘So fucking embarrassing’ He blushed, biting his lip. He silently prayed to whatever deity out there that his erection was unnoticeable through his sweatpants; he was so grateful that you two sat at the back of the class. His phone buzzed again, it was another message from you.

Strike 3!

He’s out…

My baby 💘: It’s mommy for you today, baby boy 😉😉

Above was a picture of you...Bra hanging from your mouth...Your pearly teeth biting down on one of the straps...Pants off...Panties moved to the side...Showing off your dripping core to the camera...Your fingers threatening to slide inside your core…

Somebody please help this poor man. He might get a heart attack because of you. And if he doesn’t die from that, then it might be because of the rage of sexual frustration he felt when you came back with a seemingly innocent smile on your face. Jisung was just lucky nobody noticed his hard cock throbbing the rest of the session. More importantly, thank god Mrs. Jung is an oblivious old woman.

‘Y/n L/n, you FUCKING MINX!’

[PREVIOUS CHAPTER] 📱 [NEXT CHAPTER]

[supernovafics]

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐇

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader

summary: in which tom is your ex-boyfriend and a night in vegas for your mutual friend’s birthday leads to a surprising drunk confession

warnings: explicit language, drunkenness, so much angst, (italicized means flashback)

word count: 2.9k

author’s note: first time ever posting any kind of writing on here but i’m actually very proud of this so i hope you all enjoy! things gets berry berry angsty and sad in this so i’m sorry in advance </3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Against your many drunken protests, the night was coming to an end. You did not want to leave the club you were in along with Zendaya and the friends she invited, so you pouted at the girl, knowing that since this whole Vegas trip had been for her birthday, she would be able to make everyone stay.

“Come on, Z. We should all have a couple more drinks,” You told her, words coming out slightly slurred, showing how inebriated you were.

“No way, Y/N. I think you’ve had enough drinks for the night,” Zendaya responded, and instead of verbally responding to her, you simply pouted again.

You felt upset that you had to leave, but the tiniest part of you that was sober knew you would thank her in the morning for making you do so.

Zendaya turned her attention to Tom, who was sitting at the table that the group of friends had been occupying for most of the night. “Tom, since you and Y/N are staying at the same hotel, can you make sure she gets back to her room okay?”

Tom turned his gaze away from his phone and nodded at Zendaya’s request. He looked at where you were now standing by the bar, animatedly talking and laughing with Jacob and Harrison. Seeing how happy you looked with them reminded Tom of the situation the two of you were in.

For the past two days of this Vegas trip, you both had barely spoken any words to each other. This avoidance wasn’t necessarily purposeful, it was just something that happened, and it honestly made sense. With the way things ended between you two, there was bound to be some lingering awkward tension, especially since this was the first time you guys had been in the same vicinity of each other since the breakup, which happened a little over six months ago.

Neither of you hated the other, but you definitely weren’t going to initiate anything more than some simple small talk.

However, tonight was much different than the past two days in Vegas had been. You were drunk, and anytime you were in this intoxicated state, you became overly friendly and a little too honest, a mixture that almost always led to some type of disaster.

• • •

The beginning of the elevator ride up to your floor was fairly quiet until you started drunkenly rambling to Tom, acting as if there wasn’t any awkward tension between the two of you. It was mainly because the drunk version of you gave zero fucks about the awkwardness that had been lingering for so long.

“We should’ve stayed for just one more drink. It would have been really fun,” You said to him, grinning widely as you leaned back against the wall of the elevator. Tom was standing right next to you. He had been like this the entire way to the hotel just in case you tripped or anything else; he had seen you drunk enough times before to know some of your usual mannerisms.

“You’re already pretty drunk, though,” Tom responded, chuckling lightly.

Even though his words were true, you still gasped, offended. “No, I’m not!”

Once again, Tom laughed, and the sound made your heart simultaneously flutter and ache.

His laugh was your favorite thing about him, not only the soft and happy sound of it but the way his mouth turned up in a wide smile as he did so too. And hearing that oh-so-familiar laugh right then made you realize that this was the first time you’ve heard it in a while, and it also made you desperately want to listen to it again.

“I still love your laugh so much,” You told him, knowing you would not have said that if you were any hint of sober.

As the words spilled from your lips, you noticed the corner of Tom’s mouth perk up the tiniest bit in a smile. “And this honesty is how I know you’re very drunk right now.”

You rolled your eyes, and a full smile took over your features. “I didn’t see you drink at all tonight.”

Tom simply shrugged. “Wasn’t really in the mood.”

The grey elevator doors then opened up to the nineteenth floor before you could say anything in response to Tom’s statement. Both you and he exited the elevator, and you began walking in the direction of your hotel room. That was until you noticed that none of the numbers was the one for your room, and instead of the room numbers on the doors decreasing to the one that was yours, they were actually increasing.

“Wait, fuck. We’re going the wrong way.” You quickly turned around and started walking in the opposite direction. The abrupt action caused you to trip over absolutely nothing but your own feet. Tom attempted to reach for you, but you hit the ground before he could even get the chance to grab your arm.

“Shit, you okay, Y/N?” Tom asked as he knelt down next to you.

You nodded at his question as you laughed a bit and sat up on the carpeted floor, crossing your legs under you. “I’m okay. Can we actually sit here for a sec? The floor is pretty comfortable.”

Tom smiled amusingly at your drunken actions and proceeded to sit down across from you on the carpeted floor of the hallway.

It was quiet for a few moments, and things mainly consisted of you silently admiring his face and him attempting to decipher what you were thinking.

“How are you and Lily?” You asked him. The question randomly came to mind, and before you could stop it from coming out of your mouth, it was blurted.

To say Tom was confused about your words would be an understatement. He hadn’t posted anything about his new relationship yet since it was still slightly recently, and he was nowhere near ready to do so. When you two were together, it took over ten months until you both decided to “go public” with your relationship.

“We’re good,” He answered after his brief moment of confusion. “I didn’t even know that you know about Lily and me.”

Your shoulders lifted in a simple shrug. “I was talking to Harrison about a month ago, and he accidentally mentioned it.”

That conversation was something you remembered all too well. Specifically, the bittersweetness you felt when Harrison told you that Tom was with someone new. You knew that it was a good thing, and overall you were happy for him, but you couldn’t help but feel the tiniest twinge of sadness, knowing that Tom being in a new relationship meant that things were truly over for the two of you.

The thought made you feel a thousand times more upset than you knew you would’ve felt if you were sober. And it also made you feel like an idiot because you were the one who ended things all those months ago, so you shouldn’t be feeling sad at all. But if you considered the circumstances which made you end things, your emotions entirely made sense.

“Hey, are you okay?” Tom was quick to notice how upset you looked, and his voice was full of concern.

God, now you absolutely hated the fact that you were drunk. It made the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes feel uncontrollable.

You ultimately swallowed back the tears and sad thoughts, letting your drunken mind roam to a place that was much less depressing. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just— Nevermind. Hey, do you remember that time we went to Disney and became completely obsessed with the churros? I swear we both had like five that day.”

You had no idea how your mind brought you to thinking about and bringing up that story, especially because it was something you hadn’t thought about in forever. But the memory always made you laugh, just as you were doing right then.

Tom laughed too as he nodded his head. “That feels like it happened so long ago, but yeah, I remember that. Honestly, I’d go back to Disneyland just for the churros.”

The more you thought about that memory, the more you missed those times with Tom. It made you wonder if he missed that as well. Does he miss me too?

Even though you were drunk, your brain was smart enough not to ask that question. However, it was sadly not smart enough to stop you from saying the next thing you said.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Once again, a confused expression took over Tom’s features. He had no idea where you were going with your question, but he still nodded his head, quite curious about what you were going to tell him. “Sure,” He said along with the nod.

You leaned a tad bit closer toward Tom and dropped your voice to a whisper. “Sometimes I wish that I didn’t lie to you at the airport by saying I wouldn’t do the same for you, which was basically me saying that I didn't love you. Because I really did love you.”

Your softly spoken words lingered in the air between you and Tom for many moments after they fell from your lips.

If you somehow remembered what you just told him in the morning, the smallest part of you that was sober knew that you would completely regret the confession you made.

However, you were unsure if you’d regret the confession more than the actual lie you had told Tom all those months ago; because that was something that the deepest part of you regretted every day.

• • •

The next time you two would see each other was very uncertain. Tom was getting on a plane to London, which was what led you to drive him to LAX, and it was a flight that you would’ve taken with him if there weren’t some things you needed to handle in Los Angeles for the next week.

You were both pretty good at making set plans on when you would see each other next, especially considering how busy your schedules could always be. But, this time was much different. A photography job was going to be taking you to New Zealand for the next six months, and Tom was going to start filming a new movie in Canada in a couple of weeks. It felt like your lives were moving in two completely different directions.

You had known that fact for a long time, but you loved him so much that you always pushed away all of those doubts and worries that would flood your mind.

The past week was when you finally decided to stop. You couldn’t halt the thoughts that took over your brain, and quite frankly, you didn’t want to. Mainly because of how much sense they made. Both of your respective careers were exponentially growing, with your nature photography becoming more recognized and Tom receiving more acting jobs. And those facts were something that you knew would only continuously draw the two of you farther and farther apart.

“So, I’ll see you soon?” Tom’s questioning words pulled you out of your thoughts, and you turned to look at him as he began gathering his things from your car, knowing that the drop-off point you had to park in front of didn’t allow for too long goodbyes.

You were quiet for a few moments, having absolutely no idea how you wanted to word your next statement. Tom looked over at you with curious and hopeful eyes, and that expression made what you knew you had to say feel a million times harder.

“I don’t know,” You finally said, the words coming out soft and almost too quiet, but Tom was still able to hear them.

His eyebrows furrowed in immediate confusion, and he stopped his actions of attempting to make sure everything was in his carry-on backpack. “What do you mean?”

“Next week I’m going to New Zealand for six months, and you’re going to film in Canada. And then after that, there are probably just gonna be more jobs that will push us further away from each other. Our lives are moving in two completely different directions, Tom.” Your words came out rushed, but that didn’t change how true they were.

“We know how to make things work, though. We just had to do a long period of long-distance a few months ago when I had to be in France for a month, and you were here, and we made it through that,” Tom told you, and there was that hopeful look again, making your heart lurch the longer you looked at him.

You pulled your eyes away from him and turned your attention downward for a brief moment. “Yes, we did, but it was still so hard, and we both knew it. And even then, we at least had a set date when we knew we would see each other again. Right now, we have absolutely no clue, and it’s just going to continue to get harder.”

Tom wanted to rebuttal your statement, but he didn’t know the exact thing to say right then, so instead, he opted for the dreaded question, “So what does that mean for us?”

A beat of silence went by before you answered him with, “I think we both know what that means.”

“Just say it, Y/N,” Tom said, and you could already see the hurt that was brimming behind his features. It made you hate the fact that you'd become able to read him so well. You turned your gaze away from him and instead focused your eyes on the Nevada license plate of the car that was in front of you.

This was it. There was nothing more you could do to tread around the words that had to be said.

“I think it would be best if we broke up.��

Silence prevailed in the small space of your car for what felt like hours but was actually just barely a minute. A car honking from behind you put an end to the quiet, and you finally turned to look at Tom.

“You should go. You’re gonna miss your flight.” The fact that you were still processing the last words that you just said to Tom made your voice sound distant and quiet.

Tom was quick to shake his head. “I don’t care about the flight right now. You can not expect me to give up on us so easily, Y/N.”

You didn’t know what to respond to him with, so instead, you just gave him the smallest shrug.

“I love you. We can figure everything out and make it all work,” Tom told you. “If there are times where I need to give up an acting job to make sure that we’re not away from each other for months at a time, then I’ll do it. I really don’t need to take on every role that is offered to me, and I won’t if that means I don’t have to lose you.”

You knew exactly how true those words were, and that was what scared you. In a heartbeat, Tom would give up any acting job if that meant he would get to spend more time with you, and you would do the exact same for him. However, you knew that that was not a good thing. You had always been someone that thought about things long-term, and you knew that regret would eventually spur from both ends if the two of you continuously did that, and that regret would lead to resentment. That was exactly what you did not want to happen.

Once again, you were quiet, not responding to his words with anything, so Tom took that as his cue to continue on, saying something that almost mimicked your previous thoughts. “I know you’d do the same for me too, Y/N. We love each other so much.”

You did love Tom so much, sometimes maybe even too much. And you also knew that he loved you the same amount too; it was a fact that was easily confirmed from the current pleading look in his eyes. However, as much as it hurt, you knew exactly what you needed to do.

“No,” You said with the slightest shake of your head. You took a shallow breath and disconnected your eyes from Tom’s before you finished off your sentence. “I wouldn’t do the same for you.”

There was no need to look at Tom to gather his reaction to your words because you had a strong feeling what it was. Hurt and heartbreak. And that was something that you really did not want to see.

The sound of a car honking again behind you broke the growing silence again, and Tom took that as his cue to finally exit your car. He said nothing to you as he slung his bookbag over his shoulder, grabbed his suitcase from the backseat, and then headed into the airport.

You had just told him something that was a complete and utter lie, and as much as you wanted to chase after him and tell him that your statement had been just that, you didn’t. As you watched his figure become smaller and smaller as he continued inside the expansive airport, you noticed that he did not turn to look back at you once. That was what let you know that the damage was done.

Your heart hurt like hell right then, a completely self-inflicted wound, but you knew that in the long run, your actions would prove to be the right thing. The pain from it all would ease up eventually.

• • •

Tom had absolutely no idea what to say in response to your confession. He was beyond confused and had no idea if you were even telling the truth; he honestly hoped that you weren’t.

That day at the airport was fucking heartbreaking for him, and if it actually had all been just a lie, he wouldn’t know how to feel.

Before he could utter any type of response to your previous words, your drunken mind moved to a completely different place, disregarding everything that had come out of your mouth less than a minute ago.

“I’m really tired,” You said and stood up from the cross-legged position you were in on the floor so that you could start heading to your hotel room.

Tom wordlessly followed suit, and less than a minute later, the two of you were standing in front of your door. You pulled your key card from your pocket and managed to unlock the door after receiving some help from Tom. Using the card was something that had already been slightly difficult to do sober, so adding your drunkenness to the table did not make it any easier.

When the door was opened, you began to step inside the room, but you stopped when you decided to pull Tom in for a hug. He felt completely awkward and tense at the action, but that was something that you didn’t at all notice due to your inebriated state.

“Goodnight, Tommy,” You said to him once you pulled back from the embrace. The nickname you used to always call him, slipping out way too easily.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Tom responded, forcing out a small smile. His mind was still completely stuck on your drunk confession, and he knew that he would be thinking about it all night.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts! <33

[whosemorales]

Peter Meets Rhodey

"Mr Stark, can you pass me the wrench?"

Not looking up from his desk Tony grabbed the wrench and leaned to the right where Peter's voice came from holding it out.

"Thanks," Peter mumbled grabbing the wrench and returning to his work, the room falling into a comfortable silence.

This is how it always worked. Peter would come over to spend the weekend at the tower and they would spend most of their time in the lab, it was awkward at first Peter mostly just sat there fiddling with screws, but now they had fallen into a kind of routine.

Spending time in the lab always helped Peter let off steam, it was just like going out as Spiderman. Although he wasn't fighting criminals, the only criminal thing in the lab was Mr Starks horrible taste in music.

("Kid this is a classic!"

Peter raised his eyebrows and gave him a sceptical look. "I didn't know classics sounded like two vultures fighting over a carcass."

Mr Starks mouth gaped. "You have no taste."

"Says the one who likes to listen to vultures."

"They're not-"

"Mr Stark it's OK. Whatever helps you sleep at night, whatever keeps you... calm." Peter smirked patting him on the back and turning back to his work.)

A beeping sound dragged Peter's mind back to the present and he heard the lab door open. There were only two other people that knew the code to get in. But Pepper was away on a business meeting so that means...

Whipping his head around, Peter's eyes met the one and only Colonel Rhodes. He'd heard countless stories about his and Mr Starks days in MIT and every story after, including what happened in Berlin. But Peter had never met him. (Because Peter hadn't known the extent to Rhodey's injuries)

Mr Rhodes held sort of the same look as Peter, although his was more confusion and shock, whilst Peter's was more surprise and awe.

Mr Stark had yet to notice Mr Rhodes presence his attention to engrossed in the upgrades he was working on.

Mr Rhodes cleared his throat. "Uh, Tones?"

Mr Starks head whipped around at the sound of his best friends voice.

"Rhodey?" Mr stark walked over and clapped him on the back giving him a quick hug. "How ya been  buddy, what are you doing here?"

Rhodey moved his head to the side slightly and looked over Tony's shoulder to Peter, who was still sitting there and watching them both.

Rhodey turned his head back to Tony. "Uh I was free and thought I'd stop by for the weekend, can I speak to you outside?" He said quickly.

Mr Stark frowned slightly. "OK," He turned around to face Peter. "Kid don't blow up the lab while I'm gone."

"I'll try not to Mr Stark, no promises though," Peter smirked and turned back to his work.

Tony shook his head and left the room with Rhodey. When Rhodey was sure to door was closed he rounded on Tony who didn't look the least bit phased.

"OK, who the hell is that?"

"It's the kid." Tony shrugged.

"What kid Tony? Is he just some random 14 year you found on the streets?!"

"I'm 15," Peter called not looking up from his desk.

A look of disbelief crossed Rodney's features. "Can he hear us?"

"No that would be creepy," Tony smirked.

"So that's the spider-kid?" Rhodey sighed.

"Spider-Man," Peter calls out again.

Tony smiled and turned to look at Peter who hadn't even moved his head from his desk.

"Pete, but out for a sec I gotta talk to Honeybear privately."

"Sure thing, Mr Stark."

Tony turned back to Rhodey and gave him a nod, telling him that Peter wasn't listening anymore.

"What the hell is he doing here Tony?!"

"He's helping me out in the lab."

"OK, 1. Your both on different desks and it looks like he's in his own little world working on whatever he's working on," Rhodey waved his hand. "And 2. I thought you said you wanted to keep your distance, this," he pointed to Peter. "This is not keeping your distance, this is the opposite!"

"Calm down, Rhodey," he sighed. "Look, the kids grown on me and honestly he makes me feel like a million bucks, which is saying something, I like having him around, he's a good kid. Trust me you'll love him, and he's staying for the weekend so you'll be able to get to know him better."

"OK." Rhodey nodded, Tony smiled and they both turned to go back to the lab. But just as Rhodey took a step his legs buckled from underneath him.

Tony was able to catch him before he hit the floor and helped him sit on one of the chairs outside the lab.

"You OK?" Tony frowned.

Rhodey grunted. "Yeah, yeah, it's just hard trying to get used to this shit, keep forgetting that my legs don't work, the braces help but sometimes this happens."

A guilty look passed over Tony's face, one that Rhodey understood straight away.

"Cut it out," He said sternly. "Tones, I've told you that it's not your fault, stop blaming yourself. It was my choice to fight and it was my fault for what happened. OK?"

Tony sighed but nodded. "OK. Need help?" he questioned standing up and holding out his hand.

"Nah, I'll walk it off." Rhodey joked.

"Yep sure," Tony smirked reaching down he heaved Rhodey up. "You good?"

Taking a few steps forward Rhodey nodded.

"Are your bags all set?" Tony asked as he reopened the door to the lab, Rhodey following closely behind.

"Yeah Happy helped me bring them up."

Peter turned to look at them curiously. "Bags?"

"That's right, Underoos. Honeybears staying the weekend, so you'll have two whole days to annoy him to death." Tony smirked.

"I'm not annoying," Peter pouted.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night kid." Tony winked, throwing Peter's words right back at him, whilst patting his back.

Peter shrugged him off with a laugh.

"Are we going upstairs?" Peter asked noticing how Tony hadn't sat back down yet.

"Sure are bambino." Tony ruffled Peter's hair. "Grab your stuff, have you finished your homework?" he asked as he watched Peter sling his backpack over his shoulder.

"Um, I have a little bit in math, but I finished the rest on the way here."

"OK," Tony nodded. "Well, when we get back up to the penthouse you need to finish the rest before dinner."

Peter nodded as they all walked to the elevator. "What are we having?"

"How does Chinese sound?" Tony asked slinging his arm around Peter's shoulders.

"Sounds good." Peter smiled at Tony.

When the elevator doors opened they all filed in and Tony asked FRIDAY to take them to the penthouse and to order their normal Chinese meal along with whatever Rhodey wanted.

As the elevator went up Rhodey couldn't help but be completely speechless. This was a whole new side to Tony, a side he had never seen before, he was acting like... like a dad?

It was weird, not a bad weird a good weird. He was good at it, it suited him. Whatever this kid had done, he had managed to break down all of Tony's walls. Which literally sounded impossible, so impossible that the kid didn't even know he'd done it.

The elevator doors opened and the first thing Rhodey noticed was the difference. It wasn't huge but it was noticeable.

There were history books spread out on the kitchen bench, mugs with both Iron Man and Spider-Man situated on the coffee table, Iron Man and Spider-Man plushies sprawled on the couch and what looked like certificates and photos hanging on the fridge and walls. Even the atmosphere was different, it felt more like home.

Wow, the kid had definitely left his mark.

"Is my room still in the same spot?" Rhodey asked picking up some of his bags.

"Yep, down the hall, to the left and first door on your right," Tony instructed.

Rhodey nodded and reached to pick up the rest of his bags but Peter beat him to it.

"Oh, I can help you with those," he smiled at Rhodey but seeing the shocked look on his face Peter's smile faltered. "Or not."

"No no," Rhodey held out his hand. "It's fine I was just uh, surprised that's all." The bright smile returned to Peter's face and he headed for the hallway.

"After you do that, straight back in here to finish off your homework!" Tony called after him.

"I know, I know," Peter grumbled back.

When they reached Rhodey's room Peter opened the door and walked in, placing Rhodeys bags at the foot of his bed.

"Thank you, Peter." Rhodey smiled putting his bags beside the ones Peter grabbed.

"No problem, Mr Rhodeys. Oh, and my room is the next one down so if you need help with anything you know where I am."

"Well, I'll be sure to call out. And please just call me Rhodey, everyone else does."

"OK."

Peter smiled and they both made their way back out into the living room. When they got there they both saw Tony sitting on the couch and flicking through the channels.

Peter flopped down onto the couch beside Tony whilst Rhodey sat on his other side."So what are we watching?" Peter asked.

Tony raised his eyebrows at the kid.

"What?" Peter questioned innocently.

"Homework," was all Tony said.

"Urgh! Can I do it after dinner, please!" Peter begged.

"Nope, you know the rules kid, homework gets done before dinner, May would kill us both if it wasn't done, and you know what that means."

"No more visits," they both answered.

Peter sighed and got up from the couch, grumbling as he headed to his room to get his homework, which he dropped off after helping Rhodey.

"Nice pillows," Rhodey smirked.

"Yeah, I know. The kid picked them up a couple of weeks ago, claiming that, 'it would make the boring couch you have look nice'."

"That's not what I said!" came Peter's voice from the hallway.

Rhodey chuckled as Peter came out with his homework, sitting down on the couch closest to the coffee table.

"What I said was, 'it would make that boring old couch you have look better." he smiled innocently opening up his books.

"Kid there is literally no difference."

"Yes, there is. If you're going to make me look bad, at least try and do it properly."

"I would never try and make you look bad, I respect you too much for that," Tony smirked reaching his foot over to nudge Peter's knee.

"Yuh-huh," Peter nodded already engrossed in his homework. -- 10 minutes later, Peter let out a long sigh, dropping his pencil on his book he leaned back and closed his eyes.

"I'm done," he grumbled.

Rhodey looked over at the kid and frowned. "Too hard?" he asked thinking Peter was having trouble.

Tony scoffed at his question.

"No I mean like, I'm done, I'm finished," Peter answered not moving from his position.

"To easy?" Tony asked already knowing the answer.

"Yep, it's always the same and it's always too easy. You'd think that by now they would have realized that this stuff is too easy."

"Kid could be an MIT graduate by now."

"So you're that smart huh?" Rhodey looked over at Peter whose cheeks were reddening.

"No I'm not, Mr Stark likes to exaggerate."

"While you're not wrong," Tony smirked. "But I'm being serious, he's even smarter than me most times."

Peter lifted his head to look at the man. "No Mr Stark, that's because most of the time you haven't slept for at least three days so you overlook the simple things," Peter waved him off.

"Boss?" FRIDAY's voice rang through the room. "The Chinese has just arrived."

"Thanks, hun," Tony called back, sitting up he got off the couch and headed to the elevator. "I'll be back."

When the elevator doors closed it was quiet for a minute before Peter turned to Rhodey. "So how's therapy been going?"

Rhodey thought for a moment. "It's hard, but I'm getting there, sometimes I fall but... I suppose I should just be grateful that I can walk. Most people get stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of their life, so I should count myself lucky."

Peter nodded a thoughtful look on his face.

"How did you get your powers? And what are they?" Rhodey asked.

"Well-"

"Dinners ready!" Tony's voice made Peter jump slightly.

Turning to the elevator they saw Tony, arms full of food. Jumping up Peter grabbed some of the food out of the man's arms and set it down on the dining table. "Thanks, Bambi," Tony smiled placing the rest of the food on the table.

Grabbing his food Tony sat at the head of the table whilst Rhodey sat on his left and Peter on his right.

"So as I was saying," Peter continued mouth full of food.

"Wait what are we talking about?"

"I want to know how Peter got his powers and what they are exactly," Rhodey answered for him.

Tony's was quiet for a moment. "How... how did you get your powers?"

"You don't know!" Rhodey gaped.

"Well we kind of skipped that part," Peter shrugged. "Anyway my class went on a field trip to Oscorp and it was my job to take pictures for the school paper. While I was taking the pictures we noticed that one of the spiders were missing. The tour guide didn't seem too phased so we all just kind of brushed it off. I was trying to get a shot of the whole class together- when I felt a sharp pain in my hand like someone was stabbing me. I quickly flicked whatever it was off and when I looked on the ground I saw what I thought must have been the missing spider, it didn't even look normal it was like blue with a red zigzag going down its back. I didn't tell anyone in the group and-"

"Wait, wait. So you've just been bitten by a potentially deadly spider, but you didn't tell anyone because?" Mr Stark raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I-" Peter paused. "I don't know why I didn't tell anyone, but I know I regretted that decision later that night."

"Well, then please tell me that you at least told May."

Peter shook his head sheepishly.

"Jesus kid," Tony buried his face in his hands and let out a long breath before sitting back up. "Continue."

"When I got home I was planning on telling someone but I had forgotten it was their 30th anniversary, May left a note on the fridge telling me that her and Ben would be back later that night, and I didn't want to call them because I knew how hard they had both worked and they deserved it.

"I remember going into my room because my head was killing me, I laid down on my bed but I must have fallen asleep because I remember waking up to this burning sensation all over my body, it felt like I was being burned alive and my headache was even worse now. I remember trying to get up to go to the shower but every step I took felt like I was stepping on knives, when I finally got to the shower I quickly turned the taps on cold, but it didn't help, I'm pretty sure it made it worse because it felt like my skin was being ripped apart, I turned the shower off and tried to make my way into the kitchen where the phone was, but I must have slipped because the last thing I remember from that night was calling for help, I knew no one was coming but I still tried and a little while later I blacked out from the pain."

Tony and Rhodey were both looking at Peter with wide eyes.

Rhodey coughed. "That is not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" Peter asked shoving another mouthful of rice into his mouth.

"Not that."

"Continue kid," Tony nodded.

"Well-," Peter swallowed. "I woke up to May's voice she came into the bathroom looking for me and found me passed out on the ground. Her and Ben helped me off the ground and over to my bed, she kept asking me if I was alright, and the thing was I was fine like, all the pain was gone and I felt normal-ish again. But when I was getting ready for school that morning, I realized that I was very far from normal, things kept getting stuck to my hand, I was suddenly strong enough to rip off the door handle by just pulling it, I didn't need my glasses anymore and I suddenly had a six-pack-"

"Hold up, so you woke up and you just had a six-pack?" Rhodey frowned.

"Yep." Peter nodded. "And muscley arms."

"Wait Bambi, you needed glasses? Why was I never told this?"

"Well it's not really that important Mr Stark, plus I don't even need them anymore."

"I need pictures."

"Nope," Peter shook his head, taking a sip of his water. "Not happening."

"And your powers?" Rhodey cut in.

"Oh yeah. Um, super strength and speed, heightened senses, I can stick to any surface and I have this thing I call my Spidey sense, basically it can warn me of a threat before it happens."

"Wow," Rhodey marvelled. "Wait how long ago was this?"

"Um, 3 years ago so when I was 12," Peter answered unphased.

Tony choked on his drink and Rhodey's eyes bulged.

"WHAT! Kid what the hell," Tony yelled shocked.

"What?" Peter asked innocently, eyes growing wide.

"That's so young!"

"Well yeah, but I only ever did small things like muggings or robberies."

"Oh yeah, small things," Rhodey nodded sarcastically.

"Well there's nothing you can do about it now, so there's no point stressing about it," Peter shrugged.

"Jesus Bambi, you see all these grey hairs," Tony pointed to his head. "They're all from you!"

Peter laughed at Tony's dramatics. And that's how the rest of dinner went, sharing stories back and forth. Most stories Peter had already heard, but it was good to hear them from a different perspective, it made them all the more hilarious.

"Alright kiddo," Tony ruffled Peter's hair as the kid yawned. "I think it's time for bed."

Peter pouted. "But Mr Staaaaaaark I'm not even tired!" he whined following his statement with a yawn.

"Yeah, all the yawning is kind of giving off a different message Bambi."

"Please Tony."

"Oh no, don't even try it, Pete, I know what you're doing and it's not gonna work. Nice try tho."

Peter let out a defeated smile following it up with another yawn.

"Come on Peter," Rhodey smiled. "Or you're gonna fall asleep right here."

"OK," Peter grumbled turning towards his room. "Goodnight Mr Stark, goodnight Rhodey."

"Goodnight Pete."

"Goodnight Peter," they both called out as he disappeared down the hallway.

Rhodey looked at Tony with raised eyebrows.

"What?" Tony frowned looking at the man.

"Aren't you going to tuck him in and kiss him goodnight?"

"I'm not his dad."

"Could've fooled me," Rhodey smirked earning a shove in the side.

They both talked for a while longer before bidding each other goodnight and heading to their respective rooms.

-----

"Peter!" Peter spun around to face the voice, his eyes immediately meeting Tony's.

But he looked different. But different how? Peter wasn't sure.

"Why would you do it?" The older man questioned.

"D-do what?"

Tony shook his head, a disappointed look in his eyes. "I always knew you were worthless." he spat harshly.

"What? No Mr Stark." Peter reached out only for the man to disappear and the scene to change.

Now Peter was on his knees his hands dripping with blood and a person's body lying in front of him. Uncle Ben!

Quickly Peter put his hands over the wound trying to stop the blood flow as best he could.

"Uncle Ben! Uncle Ben! Please! It's going to be OK! You're going to be OK, you just have to hold on OK? Please don't close your eyes stay awake please!" Peter begged his hands now soaked in his uncle's blood.

A sudden hand grasped Peter's wrist. Whipping his head up Peter's eyes meets his uncles.

"This is your fault," he spat, blood trickling down his cheek. "I'm dead because of you because you were weak! Did you really believe that you would be able to save people when you couldn't even save your own uncle?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen!" Peter cried tears polling over his eyes staining his face.

"Yes, you did!" Uncle Ben suddenly reached up for Peter's throat his hands dripping with his own blood.)

"No!" Peter sat up quickly in his bed, his sheets were wrapped around him and he was covered in beads of sweat.

"Peter, your heart race and breathing has increased significantly, would you like me to alert Mr Stark?" FRIDAY asked.

Peter coughed wiping the tears from his cheeks. "No, I'm fine FRIDAY, thank you though."

The sound of glass breaking quickly drew Peter's attention. Untangling his legs from the sheets Peter's feet made contact with the nice cold floor as he made his way to the kitchen.

His eyes widened at what he saw. "Rhodey!" he quickly raced over to help the older man off the floor. "Are you OK? What happened?"

"Yeah, I'm OK kid. I just tripped, it happens sometimes, still not used to the braces," he grunted leaning on Peter slightly. "It's hard trying to get used to having no feeling in your legs."

"Did you cut yourself?" Peter asked looking at the broken cup on the ground.

"No, I'm fine."

"Do you need any help getting back to your room?" Rhodey shook his head. "I have to clean up this mess first." He gestured to the glass.

"No, it's fine, I was coming to get a drink anyway so I'll clean it up."

"I can't ask you to do that Peter."

"You didn't, I offered. Now go back to bed, you look like a dead man walking," Peter smirked.

"You are definitely Tony's kid." was the last thing Peter heard Rhodey say before he disappeared down the hallway.

Grabbing the dustpan and broom Peter swept up the pieces and soaked up the water with a cloth. When he was don't he got himself a drink of water and sat down. He knew he wouldn't be getting back to bed anytime soon. His mind wandered over to Rhodey, he couldn't imagine never being able to walk again, having to spend the rest of his life in a wheelchair. A crazy idea suddenly popped into his head. It was absolutely insane, but it might just work. Jumping up from his stool Peter raced over to the elevator.

"FRIDAY can you take me to the lab?"

"Shouldn't you be going back to bed?" FRIDAY responded.

"Trust me this is way more important than sleep."

When Peter reached the lab he was thankful that Tony wasn't in there. Walking over to his desk he cleared all his previous work out of the way.

"FRIDAY bring up all the medical records regarding Rhodey's injury, including all Dr Curt Conners research on cross-species genetics."

----

2 hours, 5 cups of coffee and a lot of research later Peter was still working.

"FRIDAY, take away 12% of components A and C and then up component B to a sum of 0.2 and run it again," Peter instructed.

"Trial 59 unsuccessful."

"What am I missing?" Peter groaned.

"Peter, if I may?" FRIDAY asked.

"Yeah go ahead FRI."

"I would try adding a different component. Something that counteracts the negativity between A and B but something that can also reprogram all the components to work collectively," she suggested.

"Actually that could work, it's kind of like venom! OK FRIDAY bring up the effects of Fire Ant venom."

----

"Trail 95 unsuccessful."

Peter sighed. "Well, at least we know that sea snake venom doesn't work... Maybe - maybe if we try some of my blood. I mean it's radioactive but the venom is still in my blood and so is my healing factor. OK FRIDAY get a sample of my blood and run it through the other components."

Walking over to his desk Peter picked up his coffee and took a big gulp of it.

"Trail 96 successful!"

"WHAT!" Peter choked on his drink.

"All components in the formula have reacted positively to the addition of your blood. Now that all components are working collectively there is a 100% chance of success." Even FRIDAY sounded happy.

"Shit!" Peter laughed sitting down in his chair.

"Congratulations Peter! You have successfully created a cure for Mr Rhodes."

"No," Peter shook his head seriously. "I've created a formula, now I just have to pray to the Gods it works."

----

"Urgh, what time is it?" Tony groaned squinting his eyes angrily at the ceiling.

"It is currently 9:30 am," FRIDAY replied.

"Why the hell are you waking me up so early?"

"Mrs Potts has asked me to wake you up early whenever Peter is around so that he doesn't feel lonely."

Tony sighed. "Yep, that sounds like her." he nodded flipping the blankets off and getting dressed before making his way into the kitchen.

As he got closer to the kitchen an amazing smell hit his nose, quickening his pace slightly he rounded the corner to see Rhodey at the stove cooking, with a plate of pancakes beside him.

"Oooh, whatcha making?" Tony asked walking straight over to the coffee machine.

"Pancakes, bacon and eggs." the man answered.

"Is Peter awake?" Tony leaned his back on the bench.

"He wasn't up when I got up, so I just assumed he was still asleep."

Tony nodded. "FRI can you please wake up Peter and tell him that breakfast is ready."

"Peter is currently awake and has been since 12:00 last night."

"He's what? Where is he now?"

"Peter is just now stepping into the elevator," FRIDAY answered.

Pushing off the bench Tony walked over to the entrance of the elevator, arms crossed.

"Why didn't you tell him to go back to sleep?" Tony asked the AI angrily.

"Peter said what he was working on was more important than sleep."

"More important than sleep my ass," Tony muttered.

"What was he working on?" Rhodey questioned.

But just as the last word left his mouth the elevator doors opened, revealing a very sleep deprived Peter. He went to enter the kitchen until he saw the look on Tony's face that made him stumble to a stop.

"And why exactly has FRIDAY told me that you've been awake since 12 last night?"

"Damn, FRIDAY snitched on me? I thought we were friends FRIDAY." Peter grumbled.

"Why didn't you go back to sleep."

Peter's gaze just fell to his shoes. "Didn't feel like it."

"You had a nightmare," Tony concluded.

Looking up Peter nodded, Tonys anger disappeared and he let out a soft breath pulling Peter into a warm hug.

"Why didn't you come wake me up, Bambi?"

"It wasn't that important," Peter mumbled into Tony's shirt.

"Pete," Tony pulled out of the hug and rested his hands on Peter's shoulders kneeling slightly. "If it was enough to make you not want to go back to sleep then it was important. OK?" Peter nodded.

Tony frowned. "What's that on your cheek?" bringing his thumb to his mouth he licked it before rubbing it over the dirt on Peter's face.

Peter immediately lept back. "Ew! Tonyyyy! Urgh!" Peter whined pawing at his cheek with his sleeve trying to wipe it off.

Tony laughed at Peter's dramatics and walked back into the kitchen to pour himself some coffee.

"OK breakfast is ready," Rhodey announced placing the last bit of bacon on the plate.

"What are we having?" Peter asked walking over to the fridge to grab the orange juice.

"Pancakes, bacon and eggs."

"Pancakes?" Peter chirped bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Yep," Tony answered taking a seat at the table with his coffee in hand.

"Yes!" Peter pumped his fist into the air. "I'll grab the plates."

Quickly Peter grabbed the plates out of the draw and some cutlery, placing them in the middle of the table for Tony and Rhodey to grab. Rhodey came over with the food placing it in reach of everyone while Peter sat on Tony's right and Rhodey on his left.

"So Pete," Tony reached forward and grabbed some pancakes and bacon. "What kept you occupied in the lab all night."

"That is classified." Peter smiled shovelling a bit of everything onto his plate.

"Oh, so we're keeping secrets now?" Tony raised his eyebrows.

"Well kind of," Peter shrugged. "I guess I'll tell you if it actually works."

"Well, then good luck, Pete," Rhodey smiled.

"Thank's Rhodey."

"This is ridiculous! How come he's Rhodey after one day, but I'm still Mr Stark unless it benefits you to call me Tony."

"It's because Rhodey's cooler," Peter teased reaching his hand across the table to high five Rhodey.

-----

After breakfast, Peter went straight back into the lab. The day dragged on and after the 10th fail and a lot of wasted material, Peter was about ready to give up.

"Everything is right except my blood!" Peter groaned lying his head on the cool glass of his desk.

"Maybe if you try a bigger sample?" FRIDAY suggested.

"No," Peter shook his head. "If the sample of blood is too big then it overpowers the other elements but if the sample is too small then the negativity from the other components makes the formula extremely deadly and it explodes. Like we found out during trial 5," Peter looked over at said beaker which had a crack down the side due to the explosion. It wasn't too big but it scared the hell out of Peter.

"Ok this is my last try before I go and get some food," Peter sighed, sitting up he pulled his finger in front of himself and pricked it slightly with a small pin.

Pricking his finger Peter waited for a small drop of blood to form before dropping it into the beaker.

Expectantly Peter waited for the formula to turn clear, which was a sign that it was the right amount and that it had worked.

But staring into the beaker Peter's hopes shattered, it was still grey.

Groaning Peter got up, his chair scrapping in the tiles. "I need a break."

Getting into the elevator Peter asked FRIDAY to take him to the Penthouse. When the doors opened Peter sluggishly walked into the kitchen, making himself a quick sandwich and grabbing a juice box from the fridge, he walked into the living room where Tony and Rhodey were watching TV.

"Hey Bambi," Tony smiled. "Why the sour face?"

"It's not working," Peter whined, plopping down on the couch and putting his food and drink on the coffee table. "I have everything right except for one component, and without that one component the formula doesn't work."

"What's the formula?" Rhodey questioned.

"Well it doesn't matter now, it doesn't work anyway," Peter grumbled taking a bite out of his sandwich.

"If-"

"Peter!" FRIDAY'S voice cut Tony off. "The beaker seems to be changing."

"What?" Peter quickly stood up.

"The formula seems to be undergoing some kind of change.

Peter quickly leapt over the arm of the chair and races toward the elevator. Tony and Rhodey shared a look before quickly following the boy.

When they reached the lab Peter didn't wait for them to catch up, as quick as he could he raced over to his desk and picked up the beaker.

It was clear. It worked!

"It worked!" Peter whispered to himself.

Tony and Rhodey reached the desk. "What worked?" Tony frowned.

"The formula! I did it! Oh my God! I did it!" Peter yelled excitedly.

"Kid! What? Did what?" Tony was lost.

Peter turned to face them both. "I-... Well, I-, I guess-," Peter stuttered.

"Peter has succeeded in successfully creating a formula that will allow Mr Rhodes to walk."

The room fell into complete silence.

"W-what?" Tony's eyes were frantic.

"Well last night, after I helped Rhodey off the ground and cleaned up the glass that broke on his fall, I had an idea and well, I wanted to see if it would work before I gave anyone hope. FRIDAY said that it's 100% safe as long as I got the formula right and I have. So that means-"

"That I can walk again," Rhodey whispered. He wasn't looking at either of them but Peter could see the tears welling in his eyes.

Peter didn't even have time to blink before he was being enveloped in a bone-crushing hug, Rhodey's shoulders shook as he cried. Rhodey wasn't usually the emotional kind, but he just found out he'll be able to walk again. Something he never thought would be possible without braces. And now this kid, this complete angle had created a way for it to be possible.

Rhodey let go of Peter and looked at Tony dead in the eye. "If you ever get rid of this kid I swear, you and I will no longer be friends."

"Trust me, he's not going anywhere," Tony walked forward and wrapped Peter in a hug.

"FRIDAY call Helen and see how fast she can get here."

-----

Rhodey had been asleep for 3 hours. Dr Cho had run every test possible to make sure it was safe, and when she was finally ready she started the operation.

Said operation only took half an hour but Dr Cho had given him a rather large dosage. Now they were just waiting for the moment of truth.

"Do you think it's going to work?" Peter asked. Both he and Tony were sitting beside Rhodey's sleeping figure.

"I hope so Pete."

"Me too, or this was a waste of bloody time," Rhodey joked.

"Jesus Christ!" Tony huffed out a breath. "A little warning would be nice."

Rhodey smiled but Peter could see the fear pooling in his eyes.

"Did it work?" Rhodey wasn't looking at either of them.

"We don't know, we were waiting for you to wake up to find out," Tony answered.

Getting up he pulled back Rhodey's blanket enough to show his feet. "Try and move them."

Peter watched with a hopeful gaze. Rhodey screwed up his face in concentration, everyone's eyes were on his feet, waiting for even the slightest movement. When nothing happened Peter's gaze dropped to his lap.

It didn't work. He had given Rhodey's a very high chance that he could walk again. And it didn't work.

"Rhodey I am so so sorry," Peter could even look at the man, meaning that he didn't see the wide smile on his face.

"It's OK Pete, but I am going to have to kick you out of the tower now."

Tony burst out laughing. "Wow, that was bad."

Peter looked up and frowned. Why were they laughing, it didn't work. A sudden movement caught Peter's attention

Did Rhodey's toes just wiggle?

Peter's eyes widened. "It worked?"

"It worked," Rhodey nodded.

"Oh thank God! Phew!" Peter pretended to wipe sweat off his forehead. "That was stressful."

"Obviously it will take a few more months of therapy to get used to having feeling in your legs again, but other than that your vitals look fine." Dr Cho's voice echoed in the lab.

"So I can go?" Rhodey asked.

"Well, I have no reason to keep you here."

Sitting up as best he could Rhodey tried to get off the bed.

"Woah Woah Woah. Not so fast HoneyBear."

Walking over to the bed Peter and Tony both helped Rhodey off the bed and into an awaiting wheelchair.

"FRIDAY take us to the penthouse please," Tony asked once they were all inside the elevator.

Peter frowned at Tony. "Did you just say please?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." He smirked.

Peter turned to Rhodey. "You heard that to right? I didn't imagine that."

Rhodey laughed. "Nope, I heard it too."

"He may be coming down with a fever," FRIDAY'S voice sounded. "Check his temperature."

Peter's hand flew to his mouth as he tried to muffle his laughed, Rhodey didn't even bother.

Tony just shook his head a look of disbelief on his face. "In my own house." but he couldn't deny the smile that was creeping onto his lips.

When the elevator opened Tony just walked out leaving Peter and Rhodey behind.

"Mr Stark!" Peter quickly grabbed the handles of the wheelchair and rolled Rhodey out, stopping beside Tony.

Tony spared them a small glance before crossing his arms and turning away with a huff.

"Jesus you're dramatic," Rhodey rolled his eyes.

Peter knew exactly how to get him to forgive them. 'Watch this' he mouthed at Rhodey.

"Mr Stark?" Peter asked in an innocent voice. Tony ignored him.

"Mr Stark?" he tried again, Tony still ignored him.

Peter shook his head with a smirk and shrugged. Moving forward he quickly wrapped Tony in a tight hug. This was Tony's third weakness, the first was Peter's puppy dog eyes.

Tony opened his eyes and looked at the kid hugging him. "Nope," he turned his head away.

Peter hugged him tighter. Tony bit his lip and tapped his foot on the ground trying not to hug his kid.

"We're sorry," Peter mumbled looking at Tony with his puppy dog eyes.

Tony let out a breath before wrapped his arms around his kid. "I suppose I can forgive you." bringing his hand up Tony ruffled Peter's hair making him immediately jump back.

"No Mr Stark! I finally had it perfect." Peter groaned trying to pat it back down.

"Who wants to watch a movie?" Rhodey asked.

"Me!" Peter and Tony yelled at the same time.

"Actual 5-year-Olds." Rhodey rolled his eyes.

---------

Later that night they were all sitting on the couch watching Empire Strikes Back. Peter had begged Tony till the point of no return, and he eventually gave in asking FRIDAY to turn it on.

They had gotten popcorn and drinks, a small celebration commencing. The big celebration would be when Rhodey could walk again and boy was it going to be a show stopper.

There were currently 30 minutes left of the film when Tony felt a small nudge in his side. Looking to where Peter sat, he saw the kid had fallen asleep on his shoulder and was snuggling into his side slightly. Tony let a smile spread across his face, and not a fake smile he would put on for the press, a real smile, one that was only for the people he loved, his family.

Putting his arm around his kid he pulled him closer and leaned back into the couch to make sure Pete was comfy. He had well earned his sleep. Tony didn't know what he'd done to deserve such an amazing kid but whatever it was he was grateful, so bloody grateful. He meant the world to Tony and God have mercy on the poor souls who try to take him away, cause God knows Tony won't.

Leaning down he planted a small kiss on top of Peter's head, before turning back to the movie.

Rhodey watched Tony, but it wasn't in confusion anymore it was understanding, he knew exactly why Tony loved the kid, even after only a few hours Peter had grown on him.

"It suits you," Rhodey smiled at Tony.

"What?"

"This whole dad thing."

Tony looked down at Peter sleeping form and he felt an overwhelming rush of love and pride, this was his kid in every way but blood.

Rhodey chuckled. "He's one hell of a kid."

"Yeah, he is." he pulled Peter closer one last time before turning back to the TV.

Rhodey was right. He was one hell of a kid. He was Tony Starks kid.

[hazelfoureyes]

Someone nice, Somewhere safe

Angel x Virgin Male Reader

જ⁀➴ Angel x Virgin Female Reader - Someone nice, Somewhere safe*

*same story, just your bits and bobbles are changed 

You let it slip to the group you were a virgin, and instead of laughing, Angel grabs you before bed to offer a friendly hand.

<Warnings/Promises: Angel Dust x Virgin Male!Reader, smut, fingering, lubed to the gods, Angel uses four arms, Valentino is a blind bag of smashed assholes, creampie, oral, the gentlest sex I’ve ever written (probably), an alarming towel>

listen here virgins, if I could craft a perfect first time for you, this is it. Minus the lack of condoms because—it’s hell? Sex workers are tested bi-weekly?? This is still a fantasy??? Just if anything, please take from this the importance of a safe and trusting environment at all times 🙏  

minor dni (shoo! get outta here! Go on, git! 🧹)

You thought everyone would laugh when you said you were a virgin. The group awe’d and said it was cute, which was definitely better than the response you’d gotten in the overworld. But when Angel made a joke that your toys must be worn to the base, you felt the need to clarify. Total virgin, never used toys or your hands for, you cringed, penetration. Everyone just looked… sad? The conversation was quickly derailed by Angel launching into a list of wildest orgasm faces he’s seen, Charlie leaving the room entirely.

Continuing with the evening’s theme of surprise, you hadn’t expected Angel to catch up to you when everyone was filing off to bed. His hand gently reached for your wrist, “Hey ya got a sec?”

 For Angel, the epitome of smiling through the pain, you’d give him the remainder of your time in hell if he just asked. Every second, his.“Always!”

“So uh”, he rubbed the back of his neck, “about bein’ a virgin and all that.” Your stomach dropped, was the famous porn star about to embarrass you into a second death?“I think it’s real important that like— knowin’ yourself, and what makes you feel good is like super healthy. I dunno if you are interested in that kinda stuff but,” he was wildly moving his hands round, nervously stumbling over his words, “I’d be happy to help ya out.”

All of the blood rushed to your face.

“Oh fuck!” Angel grabbed your head and tipped it forward, “I would have accepted a simple no, jesus!” With one hand pinching your nose, he led you into his room just down the hall. 

What— what was happening, exactly? At all? In general? With your entire existence?

He kicked the door closed behind him and grabbed a handful of tissues, “Keep your head forward. Everyone who says tilt it back is an idiot.”

His hand was red when he drew it from your face, using his other hand to now hold tissues between his fingers as he pinched your nose shut.

“Is- is my nose bleeding??” Your voice cracked.

“Does that happen often?”

“Never.”

“Well I got to help you with at least one first, right?” Angel laughed, moving his hands away as you took over the task.

Oh, right. The offer. You glanced around the room, small but lived-in. Everything was pink and purple and soft.

“Angel, do you think because you’re a sex worker, you have to help me?” The room fell silent. Angel completely still beside you. You would love someone you could trust to take your virginity, but you would never want to use Angel like so many other people did on a daily basis.

“Ya know— a lot of people get real confused about this.” He sighed, chest heavy with the many misconceptions others had, “What I do for work, what I gotta do to get through the day, has nothin’ to do with who I am as a person.” You turned to look at him, “Why should I limit my experiences because of what other people have done to me?” The words hit you like a truck. You had unintentionally boxed him into his job, in turn into his trauma, summing him up as a warm body and incapable of any depth past that. Just a sex worker.

“No, no I didn’t mean anything like that. I just, I don’t want to ever,” you grabbed two of his hands, “ever take advantage of your kindness.” You squeezed, “or any part of you.”

His frown turned up, “We’re dead, yea, but you still exist. If you want to, you should enjoy every part of your afterlife. And I’d hate you to meet some asshole who’s too rough or doesn’t get ya warmed up first. A bad first time can be really traumatizin’.”

You nodded without actually thinking. Your brain wasn’t really processing meaning, his words were just soft and kind and your nose still stuffed full of tissue.

“Do you wanna?”

You nodded more vigorously, “Did my nose start bleeding again?”

Angel took the tissue away, giving a second to see, “Nope.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “Okay. Yeah, I want that. Someone nice, somewhere safe.”

“It ain’t quite nice but-,” Angel looked around his room.

“It’s perfect, Angel.”

“Aw fuck, I should clean up,” he hurriedly carried trash from his nightstand, flattening out the comforter and adjusting his pillows. He placed fat nuggets on the floor with a little pat on the head.

Finally, he stood in front of you, two hands on his hips, two gesturing to you.

“Alright baby! Let’s pop some cherries! Undress~” he elongated the word, shimmying his hips a little, “-to your comfort level.” He began to unbutton his blazer, “Bare minimum, take off your pants and underwear, please and thank you. Though I have fucked through underwear…” He was momentarily lost in a memory.

You hadn’t anticipated getting naked in front of a friend tonight. But Angel so effortlessly shed his clothes, peeling off his gloves. Pulling off your pants, you paused.

“Is it weird if I keep my shirt on? Like— do you know who Winnie the Pooh is?”

“Nothin’ weird about bein’ comfortable, pookie.” He pinched your cheek, “I’d offer a modesty blanket but I kinda need to see what I’m doing.” His eyes flitted to the left, “No, wanna. I wanna see.” Angel’s laugh relaxed you, the idea of anyone wanting to see you made you feel a little less—-naked. Still, your hands seemed frozen on your underwear’s edge.

With a hum, he disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a towel. “Go on, lie down. I’ll help ya relax. This is already feeling too medical-like.”

Were you going to need a towel? Were you going to need a towel?? Were you going to need a towel!?

You sat back on his bed, and when he crawled up to meet you, all legs and arms and Angel Dust, you buried your face in your hands.

“Oh hey—,” his voice was so soft, lacking its usual sass, “Wanna just, cuddle and watch stupid shit on my phone?” You groaned, face sinking further down. This would be easier if he wasn’t so sweet. You could at least take a backseat, then.

You shook your head, and felt his hand on your ankle. It snaked up your calf, slipped down your knee and thigh, finding the waistband of your underwear. When you looked up from your hiding place, Angel was a foot from your face. His features lit only by the purple neon signs hanging beside his bed and near the door. He lifted his brows, a question he didn’t need to vocalize. You sank back into the purple and pink pillows, different sizes, different textures, gently enveloping you.

With two hands now, he slide off your underwear. You might die, again. Your heart would give out any second, incapable of handling the moment. You were manually breathing.

He lifted your hips with two hands, a third sliding the towel beneath you before setting you back down.

“Do ya-,” he was rummaging now inside the nightstand drawer, “not play with yourself? Ever?”

“Not really. Not like, there.”

“Whaddya do with all your free time?” His short but enthusiastic laughter forced a smile to your cheeks. Angel slid the drawer shut and came to rest in front of your tightly shut thighs and knees. You heard a cap pop, and found the courage to sit up and see what he was doing.

“What?” He squeezed a clear, thick lubricant onto his right hand, “Don’t let anyone tell you ya don’t need lube. No fun for no one, trust me. Could start a fuckin’ fire—- and spit ain’t lube!” Angel said it like he spoke from a personal experience.

Ah, the towel. That made sense now.

“Should I do something?”

“Just lie back, baby~,” he opened your knees and followed your face as you settled back down, “Do you like kissin’?”

You’d kiss a trashcan if Angel said it got him hot, so, “Yeah.”

“Good,” One hand touched your cheek, sliding to your chin as he brought your lips to his. You thought you’d melt, his hands so soft on you, lips confident and sure. He used his thumb on your chin to pull down your bottom lip and ask you for entrance. When you opened up to him, his tongue slid into yours as his sticky wet hand finally touched you. Two fingers rubbing the lube up and down your ass.

You nearly inhaled him with your shock, he giggled into it, “You’re so cute.” You twitched under his hand, “Ooh, and reactive! Daddy likes.”

Stop. Stop talking. I’m going to black out.

His mouth returned to yours, tongue over your tongue, as his fingers just massaged your entrance. No attempt at entering, no prodding, just gentle up and down motions. Slowly, your felt your skin heating beneath his hand, the lubricant somewhat melting with your warmth.

At work, Angel was never the lead. Never the top, and never afforded time to ease anyone open. He had no issues with topping, it just wasn’t his normal role. Watching you sigh and twitch under him felt like a treat. Such a sweet response to what so many people made unnecessarily dirty at work. He wasn’t shocked to find his cock twitching, swelling as your breathing hitched with every stroke of his hand. When was the last time he could just… slow down? Be the one in control? Not control like Val, control like—- can I get you a pillow? Is the pacing good? Let’s soften these lights.  Hold my hand, sweetheart.

His head felt a little dizzy. His middle finger pressed now, and with a slow but constant motion entered you. ‘Uncomfortable’ was the best word. Your body tensed around him, but he gently pressed past your virgin walls. He hummed, “First one down! Atleast,” he paused, “two more to go.”

“Atleast??” You shook your head.

“It’s sex math, trust the professional in the room.” He withdrew the finger and slid it back in, starting a slow pace of long drags from knuckle to fingertip.

It didn’t hurt, to his credit. The excitement of having Angel touching you so intimately made the finger easier to relax into. Angel must have noticed, his finger leaving you. He popped the top again of his lube and pressed in two fingers. This was harder. You whined, his fingertips pushing past the tight ring of muscle and settling into the wet warmth behind.

Lying on your back, you stared at the now upside-down photos behind his bed. He looked so happy. Could you join that wall? Was this wall worthy?

“You still good?” He leaned over you, fingers  moving.

You nodded, “Can I have another kiss?”

Ah, you might as well have punched him in the chest. “Of course, darlin’~ Ask and you shall receive.” You liked kissing, genuinely, but were always scared you’d kiss someone too long and end up in an awkward situation having to explain you weren’t wanting sex. But that fear was all gone, you’d broken the code. Get naked first, then kiss.

You smiled into his mouth, and he smiled back, “Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“I like kissing you.” You leaned up, pressing your lips to his chin. His fingers quickened, and you moaned without warning. You felt your cock twitch, erection growing as nervousness was slinking away and finally letting you feel aroused.

“Ooh, now we’re gettin’ somewhere,” he leaned back, repeating the same steps and trying to press a third finger into you. His abundance of hands were a blessing, one at your entrance, one on your knee to keep your shaking legs open, and two roaming down the sides of your body. When three fingers finally entered, you could feel the burning stretch of your skin around them. He pushed in, and the skin followed. He pulled out, your sensitive hole pulling too. The hand on your knee came to your crotch, his palm pressing lightly down on your growing erection. You glanced up to him, his eyes focused as he watched his fingers slowly drag in and out of you. It burned still, but just past that burning was a slippery sensation that made your cock jump under his hand.

He let his fingers sink in entirely, before bending and feeling inside you. Your knee jumped when he hit something.

“Bingo! Say hello to your g-spot.” He beamed down at you, gold tooth shining, “You don’t really need it to cum but oooh boooy does it maximize pleasure,” it sounded so pornographic when he said it.

You weakly copied, “B-bingo.” 

“I can do this now~” he replaced his palm with his fingers,  sticky with lube, and they wrapped around your cock. His hand slowly pumped up and down your shaft. “Sex math. Don’t need your virgin ass locking up on me.” He said quietly to himself, fingers in and out of you picking up speed. Your head was pressing into the pillows as your neck strained, you’d never masturbated while someone, something, penetrated you. Every stroke of his hand made your body clench, the feeling of something hard and unforgiving pushing back against your quivering hole made a pleasure you couldn’t describe.

“Feelin’ good yet?” The way he said it, he knew damn well how you were feeling.

You whimpered into one of the pillows, “Feels good.” A weak nod.

Angel’s grin bordered on wicked, hand slowing. He leaned down and placed a kiss on your cock head. Then another. His tongue flattened against his bottom lip as he dragged it over your sensitive slit.

You moaned, a half spoken-half cried, “Oh fuck, Angel-.” Hips bucking up, his fingers kept their place and followed. You humped up against his tongue, ground down into his fingers; up, down. Soft tongue, rigid fingers.

“You can fuck my face, baby,” He opened his mouth, tongue out, and looked up at you from your stomach. “I ain’t got a gag reflex anymore, popsicles slide in like— well, cocks.” He lowered his mouth onto you, leaving room for you to move. His fingers slowed in you.

You thrust up slowly, testing the sensation. His mouth closed around you, tongue moving along you shaft as you rutted into his face.

One hand held tightly to the pillow, the other coming to Angel’s hair. Your body kept jumping away from overstimulation but you fought against it every time and tried to grind against his face.

His fingers slipped out of you, your body closing back around the space where they were. That feeling of your hole tightening made you hungry for his fingers to spread you back open. His hand came to cup your balls, feeling the weight in his palm.

He lifted his mouth off you with a deliberate pop, “Gettin’ close already?” You nodded, eyes closed. “Ready for the real thing?”

“Yeah. I need more, Angel.” It came out as a whine, shocking you a little.

His hand came to his erection, red and leaking. Stroking himself, he returned to massaging at your puffy and swollen entrance.

“You comfortable with gettin’ on your knees? This position ain’t so conducive for what I’m tryin’ to do.”

Somehow, ass up sounded better than face to face, “You’re the expert.” You rolled onto your stomach, hips up, face resting into the sea of pillows. You paused, lifted off your now sweaty shirt, and got back into position. 

“Sexpert, but thank you!” The lid popped open again, cold and viscous lube being dripped directly onto your ass, “Finally some recognition around here.” He coated himself with what was still on his hands, and raised your hips to line himself up.

“Deep breaths, okay?” He leaned over your back, kisses falling down your skin. Two hands held your hips, one guided himself into you. You tensed when his head began to push in, “Relaaax, just like the fingers.”

A muffled, “okay” from your place in the pile. Your heart was suddenly racing, erection now gone. He wiped his dick up and down your ass, swiping past your entrance, dragging the edge of your hole with the crook of his head. Lining up, he pushed in, getting his head firmly sunk into you.

“Breath, baby,” he moaned into your shoulder. You took a deep breath in, your body tight still. But, it didn’t hurt like you’d thought. It burned, but there was no sting, no tearing. Angel’s hands ran up and down your sides, along you ass and thighs. He gently touched everywhere he could reach, until he felt you soften, “Ready to keep going?”

“Yes please”, you turned your head to look at him.

He pulled out slightly to collect more lube on his shaft, before slowly sinking into you until he bottomed out.

You were gasping, your brain misfiring. You couldn’t feel anything but him, your body just a formless thought with Angel’s warm, solid cock reaching deeper into than you thought possible. One roaming hand reached for your shoulder, “Can I move?”

“Slow,” your hand searched for a loose fold of comforter to grip, but it was soon encased and intertwined by one of his.

He pulled out, and slowly thrust back in. A saccharine moan fell from his mouth, and it made you whimper. 

You were so soft around him, yet your entrance was gripping him so snuggly he felt like he was melting into you. His breath was unsteady, “You feel so good on my cock, baby.” A burning blush took over your face, your erection jumping back to life.

“How ya doin’?” Angel sounded nervous, timid.

You had to collect saliva to get any words out, mouth running dry from panting, “S’good.” You tried again, “So good.” Your fingers tightened around his.

He adjusted his hips, watching you closely. When your eyes closed and your hand nearly broke his, he grinned down, “Bingo~,” his speed began to pick up. 

“Fuuuuck, Angel-,” you dragged out the last syllable of his name. You could feel your orgasm returning after dying down earlier. 

Angel took languid thrusts out to the tip and pushing back past your still resisting entrance. Every time he pulled out and slipped in felt better than before. The sensations of him opening you around his cock again and again had your stomach and thighs tensing. You brought your hand up to stroke your own pulsing dick, slowly pumping. 

Angel’s hand came down and wrapped around your cock, taking over your own attempts. The feeling of him in you and around you was overwhelming.

“Cumming,” You hissed, squeezing his hand tighter, his thrusts becoming faster and shallower. His repeated pressing of your g-spot pushed you over the edge, hand slowly milking you of every drop of cum.

Angel’s moans got louder, your body tightening in spasms as you emptied your balls onto the towel. Your body was so inviting, warm walls sucking his head deeper. He rarely got to feel this sensation. His head rested against your back, hands running along the curve of your hips as he melted into your sweet heat.

He picked up speed, only drawing out an inch or so now with each thrust. The lube made a pop and squelch every time his skin pulled from yours, the sound making his legs weak.

“Where can I cum?” His breath was raspy, messy with the pleasure of your soft insides rubbing along his shaft. You gripped the blanket, dick jerking from the feeling of Angel chasing his release with your body. You could hear the strain in his voice, “Gonna need an answer real fast, babe.” You hid your face in the pillow mountain again, embarrassed to answer.

“Inside,” you tried to say it loudly enough for him to hear.

He whimpered a, “Fuuuuck” down your spine, “Such a dirty little virgin.” His hips stuttered before he sunk into you with such force your legs gave out. Your body came down flush onto the bed, towel sticking to your stomach and thighs. Angel was pressed into you, chest against your back as his breathing calmed. You could feel his heart through your ribs, his chest fluff silky on your skin. Your body was warm, his hot cum filling you.

Small, lazy kisses on your back, then up your neck, he leaned to kiss your cheek. He slid out of you delicately, but you didn’t move.  His weight left the bed, then returned as a warm, wet cloth wiped you clean. After a couple of minutes of gentle cleaning, you felt the throw blanket cover your back. Angel plopped down on his back beside you, pulling the blanket over his legs and unlocking his phone, “Wanna see this fuckin’ hilarious video of my boss runnin’ into a glass wall?”

You chuckled, nodding, making no effort to get up. One of his hands came down and ruffled your hair, he leaned in to your head and as you watched Valentino collide head first into a wall, he said softly, “Let me know if you need anything. I got a bitchin’ tub in there.”

You hummed, reaching a shakey hand up and pressing ‘replay’ on his phone. Angel’s laughter echoed off the walls, and you decided you had no plans on leaving bed anytime soon.

Sweet smut inspired by HunnyPaint on pornhub and fansly! 🍯🎨 If you like femboyxfemboy, I highly recommend. They make love look hot. Their fansly is also priced well! 10/10 (again, talking to legal adult humans here)

༻Masterlist༺

[the-fiction-witch]

Books

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY WATTS X READER  RATING: FUNNY + FLIRTY

I walked down the half broken, foul smelling new york streets. Hearing my heels clacking in the pavement as I walked, the swishing of my petticoats and my dress, the small sun trying to peek through the thick grey clouds. I put my sunglasses in my handbag as I arrived at the tall buildings I saw the beaten up beetle parked in the street and the small handful of parking tickets it had under the wiper blade so I picked them up and sighed turning to look down into the ever stretching darkness of the stairwell. I stepped down trying not to touch the handrail to the first level of little doors with some lights and then down the second stairwell into the dark nothing's, it smells like shit down here. 

I got to the door trying to not touch the gross walls tapping in the door as hard as I could hearing the metal echo through the basement.

The door opened tenderly and careful a first as if trying to peak before it opened fully revealing a barefoot, Benny watts. Stood in his black dirty jeans where he'd clearly wiped his hands down his legs for some reason, his black t shirt with his usual chains, his hand fixing his hair out of his eye with a small smile on his lips 

"Hey you"

"Hey" I smiled briefly stepping inside, as soon as my foot crossed into his apartment he put his hand on my waist and gave my cheek a kiss "move your car" I told him pushing the tickets into his chest he took them and I headed inside slipping my Jacket off and laying it over the chair 

"I'll move it in a bit" he says "coffee?"

"Tea" I Answered "extra milk t-"

"Extra milk two sugars I know" he laughs going over to his kitchen setting the tickets down in a forming pile on his kitchen counter 

"You should pay them"

"I should do a lot of things"

"Pay your parking tickets Benny"

"Suck my dick y/n" he says leaning against the counter looking at me crossing his arms over his chest "we both don't do what the other wants us to"

"You make me suck your dick I'll bite your cock off" I sighed sitting at the table 

"I know, I still have the bite mark from Last time" he sighed bringing the cups over sitting across from me with his coffee instantly I took my little hanki from my handbag and cleaned the top of the cup seeing the white cotton turn grey 

"What is it Benny? What did you summon me to the slums of new york for?"

"Oohh sorry, next time should I request an audience at mi lady's palace?" 

"What do you want Benny before I pour this tea down your pants"

"I need your help"

"... Hu. Never thought I'd hear you say that but go on"

"I need your help with something that only you can help me with"

"Right…"

"I wanna write a book" 

"A book?"

"Yes"

"What kinda of book?"

"One with... words?"

"No shit. Fictional or non fictional?"

"What's the difference?"

"Fictional is a story, non fictional is real life."

"Oh, non fiction"

"Okay, do you have a plot structure"

"A who what?"

"What's the plan for the book Benny?"

"I shall write it. And then I shall publish it." 

"Did you wanna edit it somewhere in the middle there?" I laughed

"Eh, you can do that" 

"Okay… so lemme guess this is a book about you? Or about chess?"

"Little I'd both"

"Who's publishing it?"

"Me?"

"Ohh so you have four thousand dollars laying around do you?" 

"What!"

"If you wanna self publish Benny, the basic level is four thousand dollars and that will get you local distribution if your lucky which is about five states out if that." 

".... Uuuughh, I'll publish through a publisher? Your publisher?"

"Eleanor doesn't take non fiction"

"Then she has to know someone who does? Right?'

"She does but then have to pay for meetings which cost roughly fifty bucks per ten minutes, and you have to get an approved manuscript before they'll even meet you, and even though a publisher for international you’re taking nine to ten thousand. Dollars."

"Uuuuuuughhh, wait. It's a chess book so I could get funding for it from the chess federation"

"Maybe, but then they are going to need to approve it first, and the send to a publisher willing to carry it, and then designing, and editing and printing and stocking which could take over five years" 

"Five years!"

"Yep. The novel world is a slow one Benny" I said "besides that's all publishing stuff, you can worry about that when you have a manuscript"

"A what now?"

"Manuscript is like the… actual book pages and all the words that will be on them"

"Ohh, well that shouldn't be too long, bang it out over a long weekend or something"

"You think you can write a book manuscript over a long weekend? Three days?"

"Yes"

".... Okay, so you wanna write a book? Which for non fiction about chess really a good level would be five or six hundred pages minimum, your going to get it written, edited, and ready to send to the chess federation for approval by Monday morning, even though they might reject it or just plain not fund it, you'll be already one thousand dollars in the red, before you add shipping, handling, copywriting, paying me for editing because I ain't doing that shit for free and as it's currently four pm on a Saturday afternoon and you haven't even writen a word yet"

"Oh."

"Yeah. Oh."

"How long did it take you to write your book?"

"Six years, in and off with a full time job and without an editor"

"I'm fucked aren't I?'

"Not fucked Benny. Overambitious" I laughed "do you have a title?"

"No."

"Do you have a synopsis?"

"No."

"Do you have a typewriter?"

"I was going to write it by hand?"

"With your handwriting?"

"What's wrong with my handwriting?"

"Benny, it looks like a spider learnt cursive and then got drunk"

"I don't own a typewriter. May I borrow yours?"

"No. Buy one"

"There like sixty dollars!"

"I will buy you a pre-owned typewriter"

"Aww thank you sugar"

"How are you intending to pay me for being your editor?"

"... Royalties?"

"Awww Benny darling, if you sell your book for a dollar each you'll be lucky to make 25 cents per book in royalties, less if you go though a publisher, and even less if it's being funded by the federation… you'll maybe get about six pennies if your lucky" I explain 

"Then how the hell do you afford your car? Your house? Your dresses?"

"I sell alot of books Benny"

"I'll give you three pennies if my six pennies royalties?"

"Of your not yet existing book? So I'm just meant to wait and see if I get paid?"

"I'll bake you a cake?"

"You can't cook Benny"

"... I will eat you out?"

"No deal"

"I promise you half of all royalties, editor credit and I'll fuck you as much as you want, now will you please just help me?"

"Fine. I'll be needing a deposit payment" I said 

"Alright, you know where the bedroom is I'll finish my coffee and be there in a sec" 

I sat on the leather chair looking at the handwritten chapter structure Benny had given me "Benny?"

"Yeah?" He asks slightly jumping where he had been sat for so long at his table with his notes and the old typewriter I got for him trying to figure out how he loaded paper in it 

"What is this word?" 

"What word?" He asks 

"The something with something"

"Which chapter?"

"Four?"

"The faults with defense" 

"That is how you write an s?" 

"Yes"

"... How do you not write an s right it's in your name?" 

"No it's not?"

"Yes it is"

"B. E. N. N. Y. No s there?"

"Watts?" 

"Ooohh yeah"

"You fool" 

"Also, does this have a E?"

"No."

"And how am I meant to write a chess book without the letter e? I sort of need it? Chess. Defensive. Queen. Benny."

"Antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"That's a word?"

'"yep"

"Can you use it in a sentence?"

"Screw you bitch I can spell antidisestablishmentarianism" 

"A.n.t.i.d.i.s.t?"

"Nope"

"Damn it" he sighed "but I need e how am I meant to write chess without an e?"

"Write an o and then draw a line in the middle?" 

"Fine" he said starting to type one key at a time "Openings… and… tactics… by… Benny… watts" he said but the typewriter had got to the end of the spool "y/n! Why won't it type!"

"Benny just… ughh come here you child" I sighed getting up going over and moving the spool back to the centre so he could write "there. You have to do that at the end of each line"

"Really?"

"Yep. Isn't writing fun" I smiled kissing his head 

I sat listening to the clicking and clacking of his typewriter keys, sounded like music to my ears in his quiet dark and cold apartment

"Fuck!" He yelled breaking me from my relaxation as he stopped

"What?" I asked

"How do I undo?" He sighed rubbing his eyes 

"You can't what happened Benny?" 

"I typed porn instead of pawn" he sighed resting his head in his hands

"You fool" I giggled "you wanna know how we fix mistakes Benny?" I giggled going over wrapping my arms around his neck 

"We we write the whole page?" 

"Nope. White out" I smiled handing him the shall bottle 

"Fuck! That smells like paint"

"Ehh pretty much is"

"Thank you y/n"

"Your welcome" I smiled giving his head s kiss "call me when chapter one is done I'm going for a shower" 

"Uuuuhhh… yeah I'll do that" he says not sounding confident 

"How close to finished are you with chapter one?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh… next week sound good?"

"And you could bang out a whole book in a weekend" I laughed sitting back on the chair 

"I said I'm sorry! I didn't know it was this hard" he says 

I sat the other side of the table with my lovely blue pen, my leg over my knee, smirking slightly at him as Benny sat on the other side his hands to his face watching me Intently, panic in his eyes everytime he saw me use the blue pen, which I was having to do alot. 

"Here" I said throwing it back to him now I was done "you should probably re write that's a little too much editing for white out watts"

"What's wrong with this?" He asks as he looked over the page 

"You used the wrong there"

"I hate you. Beyond words can express." 

[voicefromthecorner]

So before progressing further in the story, I took a moment to backtrack and make sure I was up to date on the Scramble Slam rewards. I’ve heard that if you leave these things too late, it can be hard to rack up the combos when you reach higher stat levels without reshuffling your set-up, which sounds like my worst nightmare, so it’s better to get that sorted early while it’s easier.

Normally I’d try to be on top of stuff like this the first time through, but I hadn’t quite understood how it worked the first time I did it (didn’t chain battles for other team fights) and fell short of first place. And then the second time... I’m embarrassed to say that I wasn’t paying attention and miscounted the, uh, number of zeroes in the goal. Realised my mistake way too late and didn’t even get third place. I thought it was way too easy.

If you’re interested to hear how that went (which is basically a criticism piece by me on the game design of the quest), I’ll let you choose to read further with a Read More:

I have to confess, redoing those days and getting those points has easily been the least fun part of playing this game. I love the game overall, heck, I love the Scramble Slam as a concept and in the main story. But this specific side quest? This bonus objective of accumulating these points? Get outta town. Go to Shinjuku, where things don’t exist and take this mission with you.

I didn’t hate the whole thing or anything, I had some fun moments which I’ll share. And I mean look at these numbers! Look at the points I got at one point:

222444!! That’s such a cool number! What are the odds? Hah, I am Sho right now.

But to talk gameplay for a sec (*pauses to let everyone unconcerned with gameplay matters leave the room*), this was a truly painful grind. Gathering points happens way too slowly and is really unrewarding for such a high goal to hit, to the extent that hitting it is not a matter of skill or endurance but of patience. It’s just a huge time-sink that took so much time out of my day just for a few pins and a little bit of completion. If there’s an easier way to do this, it’s not obvious.

It just didn’t feel like a fair and fun demand of the achiever players to put up with, as much as I generally love the gameplay. You just find yourself fixing things with repetitive strategies and cycling through them in a monotony, sometimes cheated out of more oh-so-precious points by the bonus enemy being cannon  fodder without a sense of self-preservation. I probably would have been fine, but at one point I took advantage of an enemy jellyfish glitch to just chain combo attack after combo attack against an enemy on 0 HP that wouldn’t die for some reason.

I have a video clip saved of this that I won’t bore you with, but it’s me chaining the same few attacks against this enemy again and again for 7 minutes. And the points at the end of that video? Just over 340′000. 7 constant repetitive minutes of combo chaining will net you 1/40th of the points you need to complete this, and that’s with having a 5x multiplier throughout the whole grind. That’s basically what you’re doing for hours, minus the minor benefits of the points you score from defeating enemies and the bonus enemies. I’m all for a bit of added challenge and higher achievement in a game I enjoy playing, but a task like this sucks the joy out of it. It turns me into a hamster in a wheel.

I do think there were simple ways around this. Earning more points or earning points a little bit faster or having point goals that were still time-consuming but not so outrageously high are a few obvious immediate suggestions. But they could have removed the cap on the combo multiplier. Why does that cap? If the goal is high enough as it is, why not just reward the players who work hard enough or develop a technique that’s fast enough to break through it? It would still be very time consuming but would feel more rewarding. What if you earning extra points for high chain battles at the results screen, or for having high grades at the results screen? There were a lot of options that could have made this at least feel more rewarding and speed the tedious process up just a bit. As it is, this feels more like a punishment, even when you succeed.

I expect this is the most negative I’ll ever be for this game and I’m grateful that I’m only this down about an optional side objective and not something much more core to the experience. I know I’m late in playing and reacting to this, so I’m aware I’m probably not saying anything particularly new in criticising this, but it felt good to get this out of my head after the day I had pushing through this. If you read all of this, I give you a big thank you!

I’m guessing there’ll probably be at least one more Scramble Slam before the end of the story, rule of three and all that. Plus, it’d be weird to give us this concept with this much emphasis on its unique rules and system only to use it twice. So when it reappears, I’ll be glad to enjoy the hijinks, but the grind...

I was already overleveled, but this experience has made me more overleveled than I intended to be. I can’t imagine what it must be like for someone who feasibly could have struggled for similar hours only to fall short of the goal in the end anyway. Ah well.

[maryannaugerbooks]

The Beginning of Something Good

Fandom: Stardew Valley

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: Makeout session

This piece is on AO3, Wattpad and Tumblr.

.

Océane is the new farmer in Pelican town. She quit her job at Joja Corporation and decided to follow her grandfather's footsteps and take care of Blue Coral, the farm he left her when he passed away.

After her initial shock of seeing the farm in a pitiful condition, she admired the wonderful beach surrounding the cabin she would call home. When she found out her grandfather was leaving her a farm, she didn’t expect it to be a beach farm!

Thankful for not being stuck in an office anymore, the long ash-colored-haired farmer got to work. She watered the crops, explored the mines and spent her afternoons fishing.

She settled into a routine, every day looking slightly different but also very much the same. That is, until that Tuesday evening.

Océane had realized she was out of seeds. She wanted to extend her garden and grow a bigger variety of vegetables but Pierre’s General Store would be closed the next day. Determined to get her seeds so that she could start planting them in the morning, she ran all the way to the store, swung the door open and greeted Pierre with a big wave.

“Hey Pierre. Sorry for coming in right before you close. Can I get some potato and green bean seeds please?”

Pierre handed over the seeds and Océane placed them in her bag. She wanted to get home quickly in order to cut down a couple trees to make more space to till more soil.

She swung her bag over her shoulder and started walking towards the exit. She half-turned around to wave goodbye to Pierre when the wind got knocked out of her.

Before she fell to the ground, a sturdy – and soft – hand grabbed her arm.

At first, she was too shaken to see who she ran into. Then, she regained her senses and saw a young man with long brown hair and mesmerizing green eyes.

Oceane was pretty sure her mouth was still open when the man said “Hi. I don’t think we’ve met. My name’s Elliott. I live in the cabin on the beach.”

She slightly shook her head and said, “Oh. I live on a beach too! How fun.”

She internally cringed at herself. How fun she said mockingly in her head.

Elliott chuckled and it was the most beautiful chuckle she’d ever heard.

Get yourself together. She scolded herself.

“Thanks for... catching me. I’ll see you around.” Océane left the store quickly and walked home, her heart beating fast and her face flushed.

When she got home, the farmer got straight to work. She didn’t want to think about what happened. She was definitely embarrassed but there was something more underneath her bruised ego that she didn’t want to admit.

---

After a few days of mining and fighting monsters - trying to reach the bottom of the damn mines - Océane was tired. Her shoulders were aching. Scratch that, her whole body was aching.

Feeling like she deserved a break, she made her way to the Stardrop Saloon. It was Friday night after all. She was excited to speak to Emily. She hadn’t seen her all week as they were both too busy working.

They became friends soon after her arrival in Pelican Town. They had met when the farmer got to the Saloon on her second day in town, desperate for some food. She had been fishing all morning and afternoon and had forgotten to eat. Her grandfather’s old house didn’t have a kitchen so she had hungrily made her way to the bar for a bite to eat. After ordering, Océane had sat at the bar and Emily and her talked about clothes, the universe and everything in between.

The local bar was booming with the regulars. Océane sat down at her usual spot, the barstool in the middle. Not the one closest to the cash and not the one closest to Shane. She didn’t particularly feel like getting cold remarks from the disheveled young man.

Also, by sitting in that spot – although not the original intention behind sitting there- Océane’s main goal was trying to hide Emily from Clint’s view. He was notorious for sending furtive glances her way all night. Emily was friends with Clint, but the farmer didn’t like him.

“Hey Emily. How’s your night?”

The blue-haired girl who was facing away from the bar cleaning some glass turned around and flashed a bright smile to Océane.

‘’Hey girl. Tonight’s pretty busy but that’s usual for Friday. How was your week? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.’’

Océane brought her hand to her forehead and rolled her eyes. ‘’I made a huge fool of myself on Tuesday. I’m still embarrassed.’’

Emily gave her that tell me more look so Océane continued, ‘’On Tuesday I went to Pierre’s to get some seeds and as I was walking towards the door, I turned around to say bye to Pierre and I ran into someone - hard. I think he said his name was Elliott. I had never seen him before.’’

Emily squealed which made Océane shush her. ‘’People are going to hear you!’’

Completely ignoring her friend, Emily subtly nodded in Elliott’s direction with her head. He was sitting at the table near the Jukebox with Leah.

After seeing the one who had made her heart race - from embarrassment, of course - Océane looked at Emily with wide eyes. ‘’Does he come here every Friday? How come I haven’t noticed him before?’’

Emily shrugged, ‘’He’s pretty quiet’’. After a pause she adds, ‘’you could buy him a drink. He likes a strong beer.’’

Appalled, Océane interjected ‘’Why would I do that? I don’t even know him!’’

‘’But he’s cute,’’ Emily said as if that was a good enough reason.

‘’I guess I have nothing to lose. If he rejects me, I’ll just dig a hole and bury myself in it.’’

Emily laughed, ‘’stop being so dramatic and hand him this beer. You’ll thank me later.’’

After staring at the beer for a couple of minutes, contemplating running away, Océane decided to get up and give Elliott the beer before it got warm. No one likes a warm beer.

She awkwardly walked towards his table, her feet feeling heavy. She was suddenly feeling self-conscious about the way she was walking.

When she got to the table, she realized that Leah had left. She was relieved. Océane set the beer on the table and said, ‘’I heard you like a strong beer.’’

He looked at her, surprised. ‘’This is for me? Marvelous!’’

‘’It’s for saving me from further embarrassment on Tuesday.’’ She said nonchalantly even though that’s not quite how she felt.

Elliott took a sip of the beer, licked his lips and motioned her to take a seat.

Her heart felt like it was about to explode in her chest, her face was warm but she kept it cool on the outside. ‘’How’s the beach life treating you?’’

‘’I like it. I moved here so I could get away from the big city and write.’’

‘’That’s why I moved here too. To get away from the big city, I mean. I couldn’t stand working at a desk all day,’’ Océane said, ‘’what do you write about?’’

“I typically write poems but I’m looking for inspiration to write my first novel.” Elliott took another drink. “What kind of books do you like to read?”

Océane’s cheeks got even warmer. “I like romance. It really helps me unwind and it gives me all the feels.”

The writer chuckled, “maybe my novel will be a romance in that case.”

Was he flirting with her?

“I would love to read it when you’re done.” She was genuine. She loved a good book, but she also wanted to see if Elliott was the kind of romantic she imagined him to be. She may or may not have been imagining scenarios between her and the writer as she was tilling the soil, planting her seeds and doing all her other farm work this week.

“It would be an honor to have you read my book,” Elliott responded with a smile.

Océane made to get up, gently pushing her chair away from the table with her hips. “I wish I could talk some more but I should get going, it’s getting late and I have a lot of work to do in the morning.”

“Let me accompany you home.”

Océane stared at the writer with wide eyes. Elliott quickly added, “only if you’d like me to, of course. It’s dark out and...” He hesitated before continuing, “it would be my pleasure to spend more time with you.”

The farmer’s heart started racing but she gave him a big smile before saying, “Sure, I’d love that.”

The cool spring air chilled her skin as they started walking towards the farm. Elliott noticed her rubbing her hands on her arms in an attempt to warm up. She watched as he removed his red jacket and handed it to her. “Thanks,” she said gratefully. His jacket smelled like old books.

They made small talk until they reached the front door of her cabin.

“Thank you for walking me home. I appreciate it,” Océane said. “Hold on a sec, I’ll give you your jacket so you don’t get cold on your way back to the beach.”

She removed the piece of clothing, already missing the warmth of it and the smell of books. Elliott’s gaze was on her as she handed him his jacket, their fingers brushing for longer than necessary.

Océane licked her lips and Elliott’s green eyes seemed mesmerized by the movement. She could tell he wanted to say something but he was hesitating.

“I probably shouldn’t be telling you this in case you don’t feel the same way, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since that day at Pierre’s.”

“Me either,” she breathed. He took a hesitant step forward and gave her a searching look. He was waiting for her approval. She looked directly in his eyes and nodded.

Elliott closed the distance between them, lifted his hand to her hair and brushed his lips against hers. Océane felt like she was going to melt on the balcony of her cabin.

She deepened the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck. Elliott brushed his tongue against her lips and she opened to give him access.

The wood door of her cabin was now pressing against her back. One of Elliott’s hands braced him against the wood of the cabin while his other hand settled on her waist.

Océane lowered her hands from his neck to his chest, feeling the muscle there before lowering them towards his lower belly. She fidgeted with the hem of his shirt before sliding her fingers underneath feeling the warmth of his skin. Elliott gasped at the touch and Océane smiled against his lips.

His hands explored her curves like he wanted to remember the shape of her forever. They couldn’t get enough of each other. Océane finally allowed her hands to linger dangerously low.

Elliott pulled back, out of breath. “Let me take you out on a date first. Then, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow at 6 then,” She winked at him and kissed his cheek before entering her cabin, closing the door and leaning against it, heart racing.

She had a feeling this was the beginning of something good.

[mego42]

OK but!!! Come over here and randomly sink the 8 ball???? Can we talk about this???? Does rio not understand how the game of pool works??? Was he just hanging out playing against himself prior to this??? Is it a metaphor??? Is 8 the only number he knows???? THOUGHTS????

the fact that we open the scene with a center shot of beth, all bambi-eyes and openly???? letting him see???? her vulnerable????????

the fact that she still sees him as a lifeline and turns to him for help in spite of him being demonstrably useless literally every time she’s asked

the fact that he’s open to it and asks what she needs

aaaaaand then shuts her down when she says it’s for dean

but also is still giving her some p solid, if, you know, a touch sociopathic advice

and then the fact that said advice more or less amounts to please let your ~technical husband rot in jail crime wife

and yes, the fact that he is, apparently just hanging out! in his own bar! after hours! alone! playing pool with himself!

which sounds like it should be a euphemism tbh but no! it is entirely literal!

everyone involved in this show is a lunatic including all of us!

i love it!

literally wtf are you doing rio

i would like to point out he is losing to himself which is fucking hysterical

and also extremely apt, tbh

he climbs up the pool cue when he stands. why. to what purpose.

he told her to be smart before he murdered her co-worker and beth’s like, not even phased at all by that reference

i am teLlinG y’alL murder is their foreplay, the hitman thing’s gonna be fine

if anything he’s gonna be hurt she outsourced it

which, valid!!!!!!

why are his fingers so long why why WHY

every time he lines up and takes a shot i make this sort of garbled hairpin in a vacuum cleaner noise

i didn’t ask to be like this

and when he sees that the please let him rot please please please pitch is not helping beth’s stress level he pivots and like, actually tries to be comforting????????

but is also incredibly bad at it

remember when beth was like my husband took my children and rio was like that sucks, here’s an open tab byyyyyyeeeeee

he is not the best shoulder, is what i’m saying

and yet!! she keeps going to him anyway!!!!

he’s like SIVER LINING MAYBE YOU’LL WANT TO FUCK YOUR HUSBAND AGAIN AND BETH JUST STEAMROLLS RIGHT PAST THAT

it like doesn’t even register

fuck that guy? don’t be absurd crime husband

also like

who exactly might want to hit what again hmmmmmmm HMMMMMMMMMMM

i am just saying it feels like there are some layErs here

he is so satisfied when she points out nothing sticks to him i want to slap him i want to slap myself i want to slap everyone

i gOt lucK oN my siDe / mayBe yoU do tOo

smells like foreshadowing in here

also jumping back the way his smile s o f t e n s when he says maybe you do too

the urge to slap remains strong but now with a side of leave mE here tO diE

(bringing back @pynkhues​ tag meanderings bc it lives in my head now, is this rio’s way of saying he can protect her class please discuss)

and now we arrive at sink the eight ball

i know it’s ridiculous i know but i can’t help it they’re standing there with a the pool cue and the pool table and it’s all weird tangled intimacy that’s about to flip over into intense sexual tension and i am not coping well with this at all

i’m not okay

THE WAY HE PULLS THE CUE AWAY

AND THE WAY SHE’S LIKE THIS MOTHERFUCKER I STG

let beth boland unhinge her jaw and devour the world 2k21 she deserves it

idk what to tell you beth you like it

like let’s pause for a sec and examine the situation shall we? this ep provides some really interesting contrast between beth’s extremely different relationships with the men in her life.

1. we have dean who is, i would argue, shown throughout the ep to be a complete albatross of guilt and long expired, turned toxic gratitude dangling from a rapidly fraying thread called parenting. he’s furious with beth to the point of not wanting to see her while in prison, choosing to stay in prison to avoid coping with how thoroughly their house of cards is tumbling down and the reality of who beth is and who they are to each other that collapse is exposing. 2. we have fitzpatrick who repeatedly tramples her boundaries in a tunnel vision pursuit of the person he thinks she is and his fantasy of the relationship he could have with this person who doesn’t actually exist and we’ve seen how uncomfortable it makes beth to the point that she finally blows up at him, reasserting who she is and it, idk if i would say scares him, but it definitely turns him off. 3. and then we have rio who she is locked in a nightmare game of cat and mouse with, who she has convinced herself is the source of all of her problems and yet when push comes to shove is still the person that she turns to for guidance and support, who she has no objection to sharing physical space with (i hear rumors the pool scene reads wildly divide and yeah i can see how but i am firmly camp they are both experiencing some stupidly complicated emotional upheaval and that’s what that face is, y’all take it how you will), who is also the only person this ep to witness the single, genuine, uncomplicatedly happy glimpse of one elizabeth boland née marks (who can’t help but grin in response to her joy and honestly who wouldn’t she is so gd cUte before he rips the rug out from underneath her)

i got worked up and forgot where i was going with this

something about contrast

but also the like, comfort and familiarity and ease even when Extremely Annoyed

idk i just think it’s neat

let’s see what else happens

oh right they play """"""""""pool"""""""""""

wait no, we’re not there yet

first rio’s gotta do that big-eyed disney princess look he shoots beth’s way from time to time, 209 being the notable example that comes to mind

h E Lp

so now we’re at sinking the eight ball

yeah, no, he does not know how pool works

i’d say it’s embarrassing but what isn’t with them

SPEAKING OF EMBARRASSING

or maybe i mean inexplicable

i tried to be v hardcore on not letting myself speculate about the pool scene and how it would come to be so sexy bc speculation has only ever led to either disappointment or me getting really, really over the top competitive about it to the point where it isn’t even fun for me anymore (which is saying something) but i couldn’t help spinning out potential scenarios bc like why???? how????? the man is draped over her like a blanket and smELliNg heR haiR surely that doesn’t just happen??????

WHAT A FOOL I WAS

LITERALLY FOR NO REASON AT ALL RIO’S LIKE FUCK YOUR PERSONAL SPACE CRIME WIFE IT’S OUR PERSONAL SPACE

AND BETH’S JUST LIKE YEAH SURE CRIME HUSBAND THIS IS FINE AND NORMAL I HAVE NO FURTHER COMMENTARY

LIKE?????????????????????????????????????????

h An dS

hAn D S

H a nD s

anD theN hE smelLs heR hAir like a fuckiN lunAtic

i just

TO WHAT PURPOSE

SCIENCE P L E A S E E X P L A I N

i know we all like to argue until the cows come home over what specific flavor of sloppy the show is and then we argue with the cows but like

this didn’t happen out of nowhere

they’re setting something up

(they fuckin’)

(do not argue with me or my cows)

thE shoUldeR roLl

no thoughts just that

AND THEN SHE MAKES IT

(and everything b o u n c e s)

AND SHE’S SO CUTE????? MY WIFE???????? I LOVE HER????????????

no but literally when was the last time beth was that happy

it’s so pure

and it makes him lauGh toO

s Of t

and then rio’s like no but seriously fuck your husband let him rot in jail and beth’s facce falls and my heart breaks and everyone remembers everything is terrible bc they are absolutely inFURIATING nigHTMARE PEOPLE who caNNOT USE THEIR WORDs

what was the actual question here i don’t even remember

oh right why the eight ball

probs bc it color coordinated with both his and beth’s outfits bc he is A Heaux Like That