#And not have to worry about crying so loudly the problems hear me

[aspiringhorrorauthor]

I am so fucking done with living down south. Someone get me home

[lymtw]

Thinking of Toji being pulled out of sleep because he hears you whimpering beside him in your sleep. Once he wakes up, he can't get back to resting until he figures out what's going on with you. Maybe you're having a bad dream. After all, you are clutching your pillow pretty tight...

He puts a hand on your shoulder, ready to shake you. That is until you let out a moan. There's a visible 'huh' on his face as he keeps watching you to make sure he didn't mishear. His heart drops to his stomach when you sigh, your hips languidly rolling against the blanket that is bundled between your legs. Now he knows for sure that he didn't mishear you.

He chuckles quietly, his hand going up to caress your face. "Doll," he whispers, gently brushing wisps of hair away from your face. You don't respond. You stopped moving, and presumably went back to sleep. The problem is, Toji's awake now. Yes, he loves you and would guard you for years while you slumber, but right now you got him all bricked up. He can't sleep like this, but also, what's more embarrassing than getting himself off when the prettiest princess is right next to him.

"Baby," he coos, scooting closer to you. He pushes the blanket out of the way so that he can put one of your legs over his hip.

"You okay, Toji?" You mumble, slowly opening your eyes.

"Course, doll, but you're dreaming pretty loudly." He grins, throwing an arm over your waist. "Wanna talk about it?"

"What are you talking about?" You groan, still sleepy.

"Did you cum?"

Your heart stops at the question, and though your body is still in its sleepy daze, Toji could feel the tension surface.

"Could hear you moaning and whimpering like someone was giving it to you good. Was it me?"

"Toji...," you whine. "Who else would it be? Can we go back to sleep, now?"

"Hold on. Just wanna know if you finished. You know I wouldn't leave you hanging." His hands snake under your shirt.

"I did...n't. But i'm more tired than horny, Toji. Don't worry about it."

"You won't have to do a thing. All you have to do... is lay there... and look pretty for me." His lips ghost yours as his fingers snap the strap of your bra against your skin. "How's that sound, hm? Want me to ease you back into sleep?"

You can see the trace of a grin on his face. His eyes look so dark, and this rattles something deep in your core.

"Fine. Just... not too rough, please."

"Yes, ma'am," he says, trying to hold back the full wolfy grin on his face. He makes haste of taking his clothes off and when he sees you trying to do the same, he takes over and pulls your shorts and underwear off. He's above you in an instant, wedging his hips between your legs, allowing his tip to nudge through your slick folds. "Dream me really did a number on you, huh? You're so wet."

"He was a freak." You giggle, watching Toji adjust himself.

"Not freakier than me, right?" He asks, kissing up your stomach until he reaches your chest.

"He's definitely competition for you, but you're number one, baby."

Toji gives you a deadpan expression, luring a laugh from you. "So damn lucky you asked me to go easy on you." He looks at that tired smile on your face, instantly remembering his mission. "Gonna put it in, 'kay ma?"

"Okay," you murmur, reaching your hands up to caress his face.

You both go quiet for a second as he brings his cock towards your entrance. Even the gentlest of Toji's movements are hard to take sometimes, but you've always been praised by him for handling those movements so well every time. You try to mute the gasp that comes with Toji stretching you, but your discomfort is not something you can easily hide from him.

"S'all good, princess," he mumbles into your neck. He can feel you trembling as he pushes in further. "Always so good for me. You can take it, huh?"

You squeak out a little 'fuck' and are instantly soothed by Toji. "I know, I know, my pretty girl. Don't cry." He looks into your twinkling eyes and kisses away the crystals gliding down your face. You're somewhat distracted by the affectionate butterfly kisses Toji scatters on your face. He uses this as a chance to sheathe the rest of himself inside you. Another inch stuffed into you, another kiss to your lips. He can see the light way your nose scrunches, instantly catching you with a coo of "that's it, mama. That's all of it."

You shudder, sighing as you push your head back into the pillow. "Fuck. Your dick is cursed, baby."

"You love it, anyway, little masochist." He smirks.

"What's a good fuck without some pain?" You can see the way his face lights up, almost like he considered that a green light to fuck you like an animal. "Ah, no," you intervene so quickly. "You're easing me back to sleep."

"Right." He stifles a laugh. "Let's get on that then."

It doesn't usually go this way with Toji. He likes to show off his strength against you, be it breaking your back when you arch over the crushing orgasms he gives you or holding you down when you try to squirm away from his overstimulating touch.

Somehow you got him to slow down for you this time, and the prize is you getting to mumble sweet nothings to him. His reward is that he gets to stay in gentle control. You tell him you love him and he responds with a little "mhm". You tell him you wouldn't go anywhere without telling him first but he doesn't read into the code in your message, so he smiles and says "you'd get lost, and I'd have to find you." You tell him you're glad you get to sleep next to him and he chuckles in your ear, responding with a non-threating "dick's got you all emotional, baby?"

You laugh it off, not taking it to heart. "Just love being close like this with you is all."

It goes quiet for a minute, only your little breaths and Toji's pants filling the silence. Toji can hear your heartbeat as he rocks both of you. Your heels dig into his lower back, your nails dragging across his shoulder blades. "Fuck, princess. I'll bust if you keep scratchin' me up like that." His lips ghost the column of your neck before latching on and working a mark into your skin. Your thighs squeeze against his waist as he grazes your sweet spot repeatedly.

Toji knows you well enough to know that that's a tell-tale sign that you're about to cum, so he makes his touch overwhelming. His hands run up your body until he reaches your chest, where he teases your nipples until your stomach starts quivering and you start breathing shakily. He massages your hips with his thumbs, while pressing kisses to your jaw with little murmurs of, "show me how good you feel" and "come on, baby."

"Fuck, princess..." he groans, almost reaching his own peak. "I wanna hear you. None of that covering your mouth or biting your tongue shit."

You folded so quickly after that, gasping like the air was sucked out of your lungs. "G-Go- Oh god! Fuck, Toji... I-"

"Mhm... fuck yeah, baby. T-That's good, so fuckin' good," he groans, rutting into you as he spews out his load. You put your hands up to his chest, pushing weakly as the overstimulation starts kicking in. He pants, trying to catch his breath as he slows to a halt. "So good for me, mama," he mumbles into your neck, his cock still buried in your soaked cunt. "No one deserves you." He presses a few more kisses onto your shoulder before getting off of you. Your eyes shut for seconds at a time every time you blink, meaning you could knock out any moment now. Any other day, the sight of cum drooling out of your pussy would incite another round, but Toji said he would fuck you to sleep, and he kept his word. The session concluded and now he gets to clean you up while you rest.

[brucewaynehater101]

Have you ever read a fic called A Medication On Railroading? Because I think you'll like it. Basic summery with no spoilers: Jack takes Tim on a trip to Atlanta and then leaves him in Atlanta so he goes train hopping to get home. Very hurt/comfort.

But it also gives me an idea that I'm not sure where to share. What if that wasn't Tim's first time getting home like that? Maybe the first time was just New York when he was say... 9 years old? His parents took him with them to a Gala and Jack thought Janet called him a car home and Janet thought Jack took care of it. Neither one did and Tiny Tim figured out how to get home on his own. It happens again when he's 11 so he already knows what to do, he studied up in case it happened again.

After the second time, anytime Tim is with his parents he keeps his camera bag on him at all times which has 300 dollars in it that he can use on getting home. Tim also discovers during the second one that trains are *way* better than busses and cabs. He's all alone, just him and the scenery and whatever cargo his car holds. He can Fully Relax. He doesn't have to be the perfect heir, he doesn't have to smile for the cameras, he doesn't have to be quiet or good or perfectly polite. He can scream and laugh and cry if he wants to and no one will ever know! He can sing and curse and throw rocks at things! He can be a *kid*.

After Tim becomes Robin, he never calls Batman for a pick up if he's abandoned somewhere and instead will make his own way home. Heck, after some missions with Young Justice he will turn off his trackers and ride trains home so that he can loudly vent about them without having to worry about anyone ever knowing what he said!

This does become a slight problem when he's 17 and Bruce needs him for something and finds out from Bart that their mission ended a day and a half ago. But Tim never called for pick up. And his trackers are all offline. And he never hit his emergency beacon and *no one can find him*. Bruce totally isn't freaking out. The other Bats totally aren't freaking out. Young Justice totally isn't freaking out. There totally isn't a panic spreading through the super hero community about Red Robin maybe being dead I a ditch somewhere and how both Batman and his team will react.

Tim meanwhile is straight vibing as he reclines on a stack of bags of rice like they're pillows, singing along to some sound track he downloaded onto his MP3 player, having turned the volume to max and nearly screaming the lyrics because it's the one time he feels like he can.

Yes! I love that fic you mentioned. It's really really good. Perhaps I should re read it since it's been a minute.

Also, I absolutely adore the little tidbit you've added. A few things to note that I love about it:

No one else knows/finds out until he's Red Robin

It's a semi-decent coping mechanism. He gets to chill out, vibe, and process. He's also in touch with nature and music during this.

Tim drops his various masks to simply exist for a bit

Tim chilling on some rice bags in a train cart with an MP3 player (not even his phone. This indicates he's fully offline during these trips)

A few additional notes to add. One, this could buff up the canon notion that pre-Robin Tim traveled far to go see Dick at the circus and convince him to become Robin again. If Tim had already done that twice unexpectedly, he'd do swell when he actually plans to do it.

Two, Tim probably created a white noise generator or something to give him totally privacy on his "me trips." This is why Kon and Superman freak out. They can't hear him.

Three, he probably gets covered in grime, dust, and dirt. He's no longer in the pristine environment he grew up in.

Gods. That sounds so nice and relaxing. I'm actually kind of jealous. Just the wind, music, and the slowly changing scenery? Fuuuck.

[eflen-n-reegee]

Little Big Changes (An ‘Inside Out’ Regression Fic)

Riley becomes overwhelmed and regresses for the first time, but her parents are there to help her. Suggested by Anon

~~~~~~~~

Things were getting better. Riley felt more comfortable in her new house. Her parents were paying closer attention to her feelings. The coach of the local hockey team even agreed to let her have a second tryout, and she made center.

A week had gone by when things got bad again.

Except… BAD wasn’t even the right way to phrase it. Riley had gotten a B- on her book report; not a huge deal. Some kid had bumped into her in the halls; he said sorry, so whatever. She had to wait a long time for the trolley to pass before she could cross the street; no problem.

Except… she didn’t want a B-. She didn’t like being bumped into. And the trolley kept clanging its bell really, really loudly.

(Inside Headquarters, Sadness was tapping buttons, and the console was turning a very deep blue.

“It’s not usually like that,” Fear said nervously.

“And what’s up with the bells?” Disgust added, covering her ears. “Why are they so loud?”)

By the time she got home, Riley was crying. She didn’t feel right - not sick, exactly, but not normal. Really not normal.

“Riley?” Her mom peeked into the living room then hurried over, cupping her daughter’s face. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Riley opened her mouth but all that came out were fresh sobs.

Her mother led her to the table and helped her into a chair. “Bill!” she called up the stairs. “Bill, come here!” Then, in a much gentler tone, “Did something happen, sweetheart? Did someone hurt you?”

Riley quickly shook her head, scrubbing her eyes and trying to stifle her crying.

Her dad was suddenly at her side, rubbing her shoulders. “What’s wrong, monkey? Rough day?”

Riley hiccuped and nodded, finally forcing out a few words. “The… trolley’s… loud…”

Her parents looked at each other, then back at her. “Yeah,” he dad said uncertainly. “Yeah,  it sure can be. Was there… anything else?”

Riley shrugged, staring at the floor. “Want… I dunno!” Her sobs resumed and she hugged herself.

Her mom looked somehow more worried. “Baby, are you sick? Does something hurt? Should we take her to the hospital?”

Her dad was frowning with thought. “Riley,” he said in a very soft and gentle voice, “Riley, did the trolley hurt your ears?”

She nodded.

“Remember when she was a toddler,” her dad said, still in that soft voice, “and loud noises would scare her? She used to cry just like this.”

“But she grew out of that,” her mom pointed out. “Why is she so upset now?”

Her dad nodded slightly, then said, “Riley? How would you like to come with me to the store? We can get some of those fishy crackers you like.”

“Wha-” her mom started to say, but she stopped when Riley nodded. “Oh… okay… Let’s all go, alright?”

~

In the car, over the hum of the engine, Riley could hear her parents whispering.

“I thought she was ‘too old’ for Goldfish crackers, that’s what she’s always saying.”

“You know that psychology class I took in college? They told us about this thing, this… regression thing.”

“I think I remember you talking about that, but… that was for TRAUMA, wasn’t it? I know she’s upset about the move, but…”

“Right now, this makes the most sense to me. Once we’re home I can do some research, but I think for now we just kinda… act like she’s three again.”

Riley watched her mom think on this for a moment, then she turned in her seat. “Riley,” she said in a gentle voice. “Can you… can you tell me what color that truck is?”

The girl nodded, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “ ‘S blue.”

“It IS blue! Good job, smarty-pants!”

(Now the console was an almost blinding shade of yellow.

“There we go!” Joy said excitedly. “Alright, you heard Dad, guys, Riley’s in toddler mode! Disgust, keep little things out of her mouth. Fear, keep an eye out the window for clowns. Sadness, help her cry when she needs help. Anger, check the mind manuals, see if there’s a protocol for this. We’ve gone through worse, so let’s help our girl!”)

Riley giggled. Some part of her was aware that this was strange, that she still felt abnormal; but mostly she was glad she had made her mom proud.

While her dad went into the grocery store, Riley stared out the window. Her mom alternated between asking about colors and playing kids’ songs on her phone. When she started the Bloofy theme, Riley squealed and sang along as though she’d heard it the day before.

When the song ended, her mom turned around so she was facing Riley. “Sweetheart, you know… you know Dad and I love you, right? No matter what. And we’re gonna take care of you, okay? Always.”

Riley smiled, chewing on one of her fingers. “Uh-huh,” she mumbled.

Her mom smiled back, then pointed out the window. “Hey, who’s that silly monkey man?”

Riley gasped, pressing her hands against the glass. “Daddy!”

Her dad climbed into the car, reached into his bag and pulled out a small package of Goldfish crackers. “Here you go, Riler! I got some dino nuggets for dinner, that sound good?”

“Yeah!” Riley exclaimed, snatching the crackers and shoving a handful into her mouth.

“Riley,” her mom scolded gently. “What do we say?”

“Fank oo,” the girl mumbled, crumbs falling into her lap.

By the time they were pulling out of the parking lot, the little bag was empty and Riley was shutting her eyes. She could hear her parents whispering about their plans for the evening, but she didn’t pay much attention. She was comfortable, the taste of cheese was still in her mouth, and everything - EVERYTHING - was going to be okay.

[spooky-luvur]

Eyeless Jack x m!Reader

(Summary:a strange man you meet at the store wants more from you than you ever could have guessed)

cw: language, mentions of mild gore

“Ah, shit.”

The keys slip from your hand and clang loudly against the concrete ground, making you wince. Hopefully nobody heard that and swiveled their heads to stare at you as if asking ‘why did you make noise? now we all have to notice you.’

You lower your head to hide your face, quickly snatching the keys and fumbling to stick them in the lock. This apartment building was old- and so were most of the residents. No one complained about the loose windows or the broken air conditioning because maybe they hardly even noticed it. Or maybe they just didn’t care. But rent was cheap, and the only thing you really had to worry about was your left-door neighbor Miss Zhao and her (illegal) cats. You didn’t tell the landlord, and she didn’t play her flute at two in the morning. Speaking of her,

“Such a sweet man. Your wife?”

The older woman smiles at you holding the door open for her as if you didn’t do it every time this happened.

“Still no wife Miss Zhao. Are you interested?” You tease her back, making her laugh as she passes.

“Maybe if I was younger!”

She tells you about her newest kitten as you both make your way up to the second floor. You have to help her past the slippery steps, mentally cursing your landlord once again. You’d call him a cheap bastard, but you know karma would probably bite you in the ass and break your arm or something. Curse you for believing in stuff like that.

“Ah, actually-“

The woman grabs your hand before she opens the door to her apartment, slipping a few bucks in it.

“Get me a pack from the station? I’ll let you pet the kitten.”

“Ha,” you pocket the cash. “Sure thing Miss Zhao. Think I wouldn’t pay for it myself, though?”

She shakes her head as she unlocks the door. “I know you would, that’s the problem. Now- the red ones, please.”

There’s a woman arguing with the cashier as you enter, pressing her fingers against the plastic barrier angrily. The man behind the counter looks like he’d rather be under a bus than here right now. The scene causes you to make a beeline for the back of the store, keen on scouring the snacks till they’re done.

“Hmm. Sweet or sour?”

As you turn to look down the other side of the candy isle, you suddenly realize you’re not alone. There’s a man just off to the side in front of the freezers, tall and dressed in dark clothes. His hands are in the pockets of his jacket casually. You flush in embarrassment, realizing he must have heard you say your stupid thing.

Thankfully the man doesn’t turn his head to look at you. You try to convince yourself he actually hadn’t heard you, and allow yourself to relax and look back at the snacks. You peek back at him when you hear the freezer door being pulled open and see him grabbing a box of frozen waffles. He pauses before grabbing a second box. And then a third.

“Fan of eggos?”

You don’t have time to slap yourself in the face and sprint right out of the store before the tall man turns his body to you. You know he’s looking at you crazy under the sunglasses he’s wearing. He’s also wearing one of those cloth masks famous people wear in public. Covering his entire face? Hood pulled up? This guy was either a celeb or about to rob the store. You suddenly feel less weird.

He tilts his head down at the boxes in his arms.

“Guess so.”

Then he leaves you in the aisle and heads toward the front of the store. Part of you wants to stay here, curl up on the floor and cry- but another part wants to follow the man to see if he actually is about to rob the store. With a jolt of fear, you hurry your way to the cash register and stand in line for a moment before the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you realize the covered man has just stepped up right behind you. There’s a girl in front of you buying some chips and you mentally yell for her to hurry up at the back of her head.

Once she leaves, you realize you hadn’t picked up any snacks and simply ask the cashier for a pack of red cigarettes.

“Smoker, huh?”

The man’s voice makes you jump and you hear him let out a quiet snort at it.

“Ah, no- they’re for a friend.”

You don’t know why he’s talking to you and you don’t know why you’re talking to him- maybe he feels like he needs to because you said something to him earlier? You scream at yourself in your head but you cross your arms and slightly face the man in a way where it won’t look like you’re ignoring him if he says something else, but you won’t look stupid if he doesn’t.

“Drink alcohol?”

You purse your lips and eye the man strangely. That isn’t normally something someone brings up in small talk, but maybe you’ve said worse. You simply shake your head and the man tilts his head the same way he had earlier.

“No poison in you, then?”

Poison. That’s how he chooses to phrase it. It’s a completely normal thing to call it you suppose, but the fact that this weird dude is talking to you like this just sits with you wrong.

“No…no poison.”

He nods, and then you receive the pack, pay, and make your way to the door. Before you push them open though you can’t help but look over your shoulder at the man and the cashier. Maybe he’s going to pull out a gun and ask for cash, or maybe he’s going to reach through the hole and the glass and-

But he simply pulls out some cash and pays for the waffles as normally as anyone else would.

Yeah. Definitely a celebrity.

“Her name is Penny.”

“Because she’s orange?”

“Smart one aren’t you?”

The kitten paws at your hair and you scratch her chin. She purrs loudly in your arms as Miss Zhao smiles at the scene, sipping her tea.

“I wish I had balls like you, Miss Zhao.”

“Ai!” She lightly whacks you in the back of the head. “Watch your mouth around the cats, boy.”

You laugh and are about to apologize when your phone rings in your pocket, making both you and Penny jump. You groan internally before pulling it out to look at the screen.

“Dang. I gotta go, I have to edit a few reports.” You stand with the kitten and are about to place her back in the woman’s lap before she holds up a hand to stop you.

“Take her for the night, she seems to like you.”

The kitty meows and you look down at her, unsure.

“Really? I don’t-“

“Just put her out in the hall if she needs to go potty, I’ll keep my door open.”

“Alright. Sure, then. I could use the company.”

The cat has no problem lounging on your feet at you sit at your desk. Every once in a while she’ll meow and you’ll reach down to pat her head, but you accept the fact that she’s fairly calm for such a young kitten.

“Ugh…wrong date? You’ve worked there for three years…” Shaking your head as you correct the error, Penny paws at your legs. “What? You just had a snack, kitty.” She meows loudly and you sigh in defeat, scooping her up and standing.

“Alright I get it. Potty break- I could use one too.”

You open your door and set her down in the hall, peeking out to make sure Miss Zhaos was open as she said she would have it. Sure enough, it is- so you turn and make your way to the bathroom as the back of your apartment.

Your bathroom shares a wall with Miss Zhaos bedroom so it isn’t strange to here her television playing her shows, or to hear one of her cats knock something over- followed by cursing in chinese. In fact these things are so normal that it becomes strange when you don’t hear them, knowing the woman should be in her apartment at the time. She naps around noon and doesn’t sleep until a few hours from now so her apartment being totally silent has you scrubbing your hands a bit quicker.

“Miss Zhao?” You peer into her open doorway and lightly knock on the frame. No one answers aside from a couple meows of her cats, so assume she simply is sitting somewhere further inside- absorbed in a book or something. Satisfied with that conclusion, you turn to make your way back to your own room. Well you would have done that, if you hadn’t seen something that made you pause in your tracks.

Penny meows happily as the man from the gas station rubs her head. His gloved hand scratches her chin before he turns to face you.

The stories on the news of houses and apartments being broken into by a man in a blue mask always made you turn your tv to a different channel. You’d rather watch a kids show or something than hearing about people being killed. Maybe that’s why you haven’t turned tail to run to the lobby yet, or maybe it was the weapon strapped to his thigh.

“Cute cat. Yours?”

You startle as the man speaks. Same voice, very similar clothes. It has to be the same guy. It is, of course- but part of you absolutely refuses to acknowledge it. You shake your head. “No. Neighbors.”

Again, why were you talking to him? If you tried anything else, would he just hold up his gun and shoot you in the chest, or maybe the face? A closed-casket funereal is not something you want to think about.

He nods. “Met her. Nice lady.”

A glance over at the open doorway makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You look back over at the man who’s simply standing there casually.

“Yeah?” You say. “Where is she?”

A subtle (or what you thought was subtle) step back toward your door makes the man tilt his head. The gesture is so similar to what you saw earlier that it makes your stomach lurch and your feet cement themselves to the floor.

“Asleep,” he takes a step forward as if he was about to start a normal conversation with you and not hurt you very badly, “like I thought you would be. So, that makes things a bit more complicated.”

“Sorry about that.” You can’t help but snark. This guy really thinks he’s all that? You’re not as tall as him- not as lean, but maybe you’re faster. Maybe you can get to the fire escape before he-

Before you can finish the thought he’s lunging forward and that’s the moment your feet break through the rock weighing you down and promptly sprint in the opposite direction. Both yours and the man’s pounding footsteps on the carpet sound throughout the hall of the complex. You now it’s stupid to hope that someone would open their door and save you from whatever this monster wanted to do to you. No one in here sticks their nose in anyone’s business- not even those who need help.

A hand grabs your hair and yanks your head back, making you shriek and grab at his wrists.

“Let me go you fucking psycho! Someone’s already called the cops and they’ll bust your ass-“

A kick to your bum and you’re collapsing to the floor with an embarrassing yelp. The air is knocked out of you but you don’t have time to get it back before the masked man is on you and painfully digging a knee into your sternum.

“Didn’t think you would run.”

The bastard doesn’t even sound out of breath despite his sudden cardio. He takes your hands that are currently batting at him pathetically and grips them tight with one of his, reaching into his pocket with the other. You recoil in disgust as the tar substance flowing from the eyes of his mask drip onto your face, slipping across your nose and lips. You groan and twist your head in an attempt to wipe it off on your shoulder before your chin is tightly gripped and you’re forced to face him.

“Don’t move,” he tells you as you finally see what’s in his hand. “Nothing is gonna hurt.” He brings the smelly cloth closer to your face and with a sudden surge of adrenaline, you take advantage of the fact that he’s using only one hand to hold your wrists to twist them out of his grip and hit him in the throat. It’s petty and a bit of embarrassing if you stopped to think about it, but it has him sputtering and backing off enough for you to get to your feet and run back to your room.

You breathe heavily as you back away from the door after bolting it shut. Running your hands through your hair, you hurry over to your kitchen to grab the biggest knife you own. Unfortunately it isn’t very big, and you curse yourself for not being too into meats. That’s when you suddenly remember the bag under your bed you keep in case anything like this would have happened.

‘I have a bat in my room I have a bat in my room I have a bat in my-‘

You want to scream and cry as you turn the corner and see him waiting in the hallway for you.

“You fucking stalker, what the hell do you want?!” There are frustrated tears in your eyes and you wipe them away roughly. No way you were about to cry in front of this guy. But you were going to die. You were going to die for no fucking reason. Because a random dude saw you in the store and wants to fulfill his sick fantasies.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” is all he says. The reply makes you scoff.

“Yeah, because I’m going to believe that?! You killed an old woman!” Your heart aches for poor Miss Zhao and her cats. No one else knows they’re there- if you die, who will take care of them?

“I didn’t kill her.” He pulls the cloth out again and you want to just fall to the floor and give up. What were you supposed to do?

“I promise, I didn’t hurt her. I’m not going to hurt you either,” he repeats, taking steps forward. You know you should be terrified- trembling and light on your feet- but you just stand in place as the man reaches you and places a hand on the back of your neck.

“Just need you asleep.” He murmurs, bringing the soaked cloth up to your mouth.

Your eyes look up to meet his- or, whatever’s in place of them. They’re hollow and continuously spilling the strange gloop that stains his jacket. It’s awful, horrible, terrible-

You close your eyes as they grow heavy, feeling his hands tighten against you. Your body sags against his as you get weaker and if he isn’t going to kill you then you can only hope he catches you if you fall.

If death is this cold, part of you wishes you’ll end up in Hell. But then your leg twitches and hits against something solid and you realizes you aren’t dead at all.

You crack your eyes open and it takes a moment for your vision to clear enough for you to see you’re in your bathroom. The smooth ceramic of your bathtub is under you, but you’re more distracted by the dark figure hunched over your body prodding at something on your stomach.

“Still won’t leave me alone?” You grumble. The man’s mask tilts up and your breath catches at the still chilling sight.

“I’m making sure you’ll live. Which you will.”

Finally, your mind clears and you shiver as the cold of the ice bath you’re in sets. “What did you do?” You think you have the right to ask him that, at least. He pulls his hand out of the water and shakes it off.

“I took your right kidney-“

”Jesus.” Your head thunks against the lip of the tub and it swirls with pain for a moment. “The fucks wrong with you?”

His shoulders shake in silent laughter and you swat at him. Asshole. “You wouldn’t want me to explain it to you.” He has the balls to say.

“You’re crazy. I needed that thing.” Your speech slurs as you grow more exhausted, slouching further into the tub. At least there’s ice in it. You think you’d rather die than have your dick out in front of this guy.

“No you didn’t,” he says, but you simply wave a hand at him and accept the fact that your life is in his hands for now. As you slip back into unconsciousness you pray that he knows what to do with it.

[bruisedboys]

yes hi! i kind of have an emergency request if you’d be willing to follow through with it :) i got into an argument and got yelled at a lot about how what i do isn’t good enough, and i started crying haha

so if there’s any way you could do like? sirius walking in on reader kind of maybe sobbing their (she/her if possible but no pressure!!) eyes out about that and maybe some comfort?

thank you for reading this, i appreciate it🙏 and again no pressure!!

hello sweet angel! I’m really very sorry to hear that my lovely :( nobody deserves to be told that, I’m sorry honey and I want you to know I think you’re more than good enough! I tried to make this not too specific so I hope it’s okay! 🤍🤍🤍

sirius black x fem!reader cw for a mean coworker

Sirius walks in the front door and Remus and James swoop on him instantly, both talking loudly and at the same time.

“Sirius—“

“It’s your girlfriend, mate, she’s—“

“In your bedroom, she’s really upset—“

“We didn’t know what to do—“

Sirius drops his bag on the floor and puts his hands up to get them to quit talking. “Woah, what? Y/N’s here?”

Remus backs off, James doesn’t. He’s got a lot of worry in his big brown eyes. Sirius feels a rush of gratitude for his lovely friend that he won’t ever admit to.

“Yeah, man,” James nods exuberantly. “She’s super sad. We tried to help but she only wants you. She’s in your bedroom.”

Sirius’ heart gives a painful twang. He thanks his friends hastily and shucks off his shoes, jogging down the hall to his bedroom. The door’s closed, but he thinks he can hear you crying.

He opens the door and finds you perched on the end of his bed, your knees pulled to your chest. You’re full on sobbing, face buried in your knees, hands pressed to your eyes harshly. You’re making this awful, awful hicupping sound that makes Sirius feel a bit sick.

“Darling,” he says. He shuts the door behind him then surges towards you. He stays close but doesn’t touch you in case you don’t want it. “Baby. It’s me, I’m here.”

You look up. Your eyes are red and wet and it’s maybe the saddest thing Sirius has ever seen. He tries not to cry himself.

“Siri,” you choke out wetly. You unfold yourself and hold your arms out to him, hands grabbing at his hips. You pull at him and he goes happily, stepping in between your legs, arms curling around your shaking form.

You press your face into his abdomen and cling to him, hands bunched in the back of his shirt. You and him stay like that for a long, heavy moment. It’s only when you’ve stopped shaking that Sirius feels he can breathe. He presses you to his chest protectively.

“Baby,” he says. “Are you hurt? What’s going on, hm?”

He’d wait to ask you til you’ve properly calmed down, but something about the way you’re crying makes him feel like the problem begs to be addressed. He knows it’s not the best approach, but maybe you’ll be more willing to talk about it now, anyway, when the upset is so fresh.

“M’sorry,” you say thickly, into the front of his shirt. Don’t be sorry, silly, Sirius wants to say. “I just— I got into an argument at work.”

Sirius heart feels heavy as lead. He feels torn in two. Half of him doesn’t want to examine any further, doesn’t want to hear what horrible things must’ve been said to you to make you cry this way. The other half of him needs to know so he can find whoever did it and give them a good hard punch.

“Aw, honey.” He pulls back ever so slightly. You don’t let him get very far, hands tight where they grip his waist as if you’re worried he’ll leave. He stays very close but takes your face in his hands. He swipes at your hot tears with the backs of his hands. More come, and he wipes those too. “I’m really sorry. What happened?”

Your lip wobbles. It breaks Sirius’ heart clean in two. “It was over something so silly,” you whisper shakily. “But he got so mad, and started saying such awful things. I started crying and even when it was over I couldn’t stop.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and fresh tears spill from the corners and onto Sirius’ fingers. He wants to take all the sadness from you, all the hurt, cause he’d rather he feel it a hundred times over than you have to feel it once. You blink up at him, eyelashes wet and clinging to one another.

Sirius strokes your cheek. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s sorry? He’ll murder the guy if you want him to? He watches as you exhale a long breath through your mouth, eyelids fluttering as you lean into his hand. He knows you feel safe with him, you’ve told him so, but this particular action in itself confirms it for him.

“Honey,” he says, dripping with emotion that he’d never dare show with anyone but you. “I’m really sorry.” He drags a hand down your cheek, stops at your jaw and holds you there. “I’m really really sorry that happened to you.”

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Siri. It’s not— maybe I’m being dramatic.”

“You’re not,” Sirius says firmly. “You’re definitely not. What did he say to you, sweet thing?”

“I—“ You stop, and Sirius knows you probably don’t want to tell him because you’re the kind of person who won’t burden someone else for your gain. It’s part of the reason he’s so angry for you. “He just said some mean things.”

Sirius shouldn’t, but he presses. “Like what?”

You’re already warm but you go warmer under Sirius’ hold. “He— well, he told me what I was doing wasn’t good enough. That I wasn’t trying hard enough,” you admit, shame faced. “It was awful, but I don’t know, he was really mad, so you know. He was kind of just saying anything.”

A sort of white hot anger builds in Sirius’ chest, thick and burning, lava hot. It climbs to his throat and strains his voice. “That doesn’t matter.” He sounds angrier than he wants to. But it’s you, and he’s gonna be fiercely protective over you for the rest of his life, he thinks. “He shouldn’t have said that to you.”

You blink at your lap. “Yeah.”

Sirius sighs. He can tell you don’t really want to talk about it. He wouldn’t, either. He takes a big breath, let’s the anger melt away, at least for now. He takes your hands in his and feels your soft skin, the steady pulse at your wrist. The bubbling anger in his chest ebbs.

“It’s not true,” he tells you softly. “It’s not. Of course what you do is good enough.”

You look up at him, an expression on your face that reminds Sirius of a puppy. You’re not crying anymore, thankfully, though he’d let you if you had to.

“I know,” you say quietly.

“Good.” Sirius bends at the waist to wrap you in a strong hug, pleased when you hug back just as hard. “That’s good. You’re incredible, you know? And I love you so much, baby.”

You heave a shuddering breath and Sirius shivers as your fingers dance up his spine and down again. “I know you do, Siri. I love you, too.”

Sirius pulls back and chucks you under than chin. “You’ll tell me who it was, won’t you?” He asks lowly. “I won’t do anything if you don’t want me to, but I’d like to know. I’m sure Remus and James would to, they were really worried about you, doll.”

You smile, pretty as ever though you’ve been crying so much. “Yeah, I’ll tell you.”

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Are we human, still? (have we become something more?)

This is how it feels to take a fall - series masterlist here

pairing: takami keigo x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.3k

genre: hurt/comfort

warnings: allusions to death in that it's abt being a pro hero and not being able to save everybody, how are you supposed to save other people when you can't even save yourself

a/n: you all have to suffer more hawks from me forever and ever I'm so sorry it never goes away

"You can't save everyone," Keigo's voice feels louder than it should, pushing past the rushing of blood in your ears as you stand and stare at the scene in front of you.

"Fuck you," is all you respond with. It was supposed to be harsh, but there's a tired breathiness to your voice that you can't shake. He doesn't hold it against you.

"Dove? Hey - look at me. It wasn't your fault," Keigo says firmly, tearing one of his gloves off to gently cup your face in his hand, trying to ground you and get you to listen.

The lights of the police cars bathe his face in blue, then red, then blue again, and the sirens wail loudly enough that they almost drown out the voice of a woman crying - a woman who just lost someone she loved because you couldn't get to them in time.

"The press is waiting for me," you say in lieu of addressing anything real. Keiog's eyes flit over your face wildly.

"I'll make a statement for you."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"It is today." He doesn't give you much time to argue it, leaving you in the hands of the paramedics who need to check you over while he makes his way over to the swarming press. He's worried about you - desperately so. He's never seen you like this - not in the short time that you've been together and certainly not before that, when the two of you were merely rivals, competitors on a public stage.

There's a thrumming under Keigo's skin, a burning sort of itch that ignites him as he waves down the swarm of press, angling it all away from you. It's this need he has to take care of you, to use his hands for something good. He wonders, in a sort of panic, if this is what love feels like. Fortunately, he doesn't really have the time to think about it. 

By the time he gets back to you, you're sitting in the back of the ambulance, a never-ending back and forth of the paramedic laying a shock blanket over your shoulders and you shrugging it off playing before his eyes. An assistant from your agency is talking to you, frowning and shifting on her feet as she types away on her tablet and you stare vaguely past her.

"Hey, you," Keigo says gently when he gets to you. He almost feels bad about pushing past your assistant, about moving in front of her so that he can lean down to look at you - but the way you look at him, through him, changes his mind. "You all cleared?"

"They couldn't find anything wrong with me," is how you answer, and Keigo finds himself relieved to know you so well, to be able to parse the jumble of words that have your assistant humming in confusion and tapping her nails against her tablet. 

They couldn't find anything wrong with me, and Keigo can almost hear the part that you didn't say. The problem is just me. There's nothing to explain it, nothing to justify it. It's just me.

"It wasn't your fault," he says again, like it'll make some kind of difference. Somewhere in the background, a police officer pushes the crowd back and your hands twitch in your lap. "You did everything you could."

"I don't think that matters," you shake your head, moving it like it'll rattle out the memories of today. "It wasn't enough."

"It has to be," Keigo says, and he surprises himself with the earnest tilt to his voice. It has to be, because it's all we're capable of. Because I can't lose you to this the way that I've lost myself.  

"And what happens when it's not?" You fire back, and Keigo would be relieved at the light that's starting to come back to your eyes if the question didn't catch him so off guard, if he had some kind of answer to give you - to give himself.

"That's…" he starts, and when he catches his reflection in the ambulance window, he has to stop himself from flinching. "That's something that we have to figure out, I guess," he finishes haltingly. Something in you softens, brings you back to where you should be as you watch his wild eyes flit around, the way his wings twitch nervously against his back as he shifts and stands taller. 

He's never dealt with this, you remind yourself. It's not that he's never been here, been the one to fail, but he's never really dealt with it before. Maybe you can't expect him to be able to deal with it for you when you can't.

"It's ok, Hawks," you say gently, and a pointed look at the assistant still hovering has her stepping back, clearing her throat and announcing that she has to make a call before she disappears around the side of the ambulance. You reach forward, letting your fingers brush against Keigo's clenched fist while he stares at you.

How am I supposed to look at you, he thinks. How am I supposed to be anything to you when I can't even be anything for myself? Your hand brushes against his and he wills his fist to unfurl, lets you tug off his glove so that you can intertwine your fingers with his and feel skin on skin. 

It's almost like I'm human, his brain supplies weakly. It's almost like I'm something real and worth touching.

"Love -" he starts, his voice lurching as he looks at you. You, sitting in the back of an ambulance with a blanket draped over your shoulders, another fight that you couldn't win today, and he's panicking and spiralling and pulling away. The police lights flash around you, blue and then red and then blue again - but Keigo's frame blocks the light from you, lets you look up at him in the unwavering white light of the back of the ambulance. He wonders, in a panicked sort of way, what else he's sheltered you from. As you pull his arm forward to plant a delicate kiss to the inside of his wrist, he wonders if this shield of his is really such a good thing.

What sort of light am I keeping from you, he thinks. What sort of love am I hiding in the dark?

"Keigo," the name is whispered so softly against the soft skin of his inner wrist - so quietly that he can feel your lips moving more than he can hear it. Any other time, he'd be tempted to chide you for using his name where others could hear. Now, though, it feels like too much of a blessing to be known for him to want to complain.

He says your name in return and a police siren wails loudly. He almost feels like he's human. You almost look like you are, too.

"I think it's time to go home," you say gently, and the weariness in your voice has him wiggling his wrist out of your grip to step closer to you and hold your face in his palms, eyeing the fatigue in your eyes and the slump of your shoulders. 

Home, he thinks, hears the word with a rattling sort of clarity as you reach up to cup your hands over his where they hold your face. There is somewhere to call home for us, after all.

Maybe you need to be reminded of it, too. Maybe that's where that layer of desperation in your voice comes from. Keigo tugs you up, pulling the blanket off your shoulders and tucking you under his wing, instead, and you find yourself a bit closer to home already.

[ginevrapng]

ur blog brings me so much comfort!! can i pls request james potter the man himself who’s so big and strong and he’s so attractive and people wonder why he’s with u but neither he no the marauders stand for it and he comforts the hell out of u when it insecure about how chubby you are and he thinks you’re the most beautiful girl and you body is honest to god a bonus

sorry i NEED comfort

love u

sometimes it's hard to stay positive about your body and self image, you try you best but you know people wonder how you're dating the famous popular james potter, why he's with you. sometimes you become insecure about your relationship, you know that people wonder why you're together because he can 'do so much better' and sometimes you wonder the same. james is popular for a reason, he's strong and attractive and charismatic so you wonder why he's even with you. why would he settle for the chubby girl when he can have anyone he wants?

little did you know the marauders do not stand by when they hear people talk negatively about you, they say to you they'll be more careful with pranks now they're older but they take that back when they overhear someone say something about your relationship with james, really those people are lucky that james doesn't hex them.

today's one of your worst days, you're more insecure than you normally are and you're overthinking your whole relationship. james spots you in the courtyard and he can practically see the cogs turning in your head, "are you alright sweetheart?" you jump as you hear james' voice.

"i'm fine james," you mumble and smile unconvincingly.

james' eyebrows furrow in worry. "c'mon love, let's go back to my room." he holds onto your elbow gently and pulls you along lightly. you can't help yourself but turn to the the windows that line the classroom walls where you frown as you see yourself in the reflection.

james is worried but doesn't want to push you in saying something you're not ready to say, he wants you to feel safe enough to tell him, he's in no rush so when you get back to his dorm he shuts the door and smiles sweetly at you before he sits onto the bed. you play with the sleeves of your jumper and look down. james pats the bed next to him as you stand above him not moving.

"okay," you say quietly and make your way to the bed, you lean on his shoulder and turn your head away from him before so he doesn't see your face. he holds onto you tightly to try and comfort you but you just think about how much bigger you are than him. "james why are you with me?" you whisper.

"what?" james says confused, maybe he's misheard you.

you repeat yourself, "why are you with me?"

"why wouldn't i be with you?"

"you could have anyone you want james why me?"

" 'cause i love you, you silly billy."

"don't call me that loser," you mumble. james grins as he hears you call him a loser. he lifts you up and pulls you onto his lap. "james what are you doing?! put me down, i'm too heavy!" you say loudly, already trying to get out of his grasp but he's holding onto your love handles tightly.

"is this what this is about sweetheart? you think you're too heavy." you turn your head away from him, not wanting him to see your face. james cups your cheek gently and moves you he can see you. you stay silent and james kisses you forehead, "you're not too heavy in the slightest. i could carry you with one hand." he strokes your cheek and kisses you again.

"you're wrong, i'm too heavy james i'll hurt you. i don't know why you're even with me i'm chubby and not thin like other girls," you let out your feelings.

"sweetheart do you really think i have a problem with your weight?" he says delicately.

"who wouldn't?" you ask, trying not to cry.

james tries to resist laughing at the notion. "i'm sorry love but that is the most ridiculous thing i have ever heard."

"what are you talking about?"

"i love you and your body. do you really not know how hot you are?"

you twiddle with your fingers, "james stop that's not true. not my body."

he can't stop himself from laughing this time, although he immediately apoligises after. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to laugh it's just hilarious that you think i have a problem with your weight."

you start getting annoyed now, you feel like he's laughing at you and not being genuine in his compliments. "what are you even talking about james? just stop it."

"i'm saying that i love you and i think you're beautiful, your body is a bonus, a big bonus," he says earnestly. before you can interrupt him with your insecurities and doubts he keeps talking about you and continues praising you. "you're super soft and i love hugging you, you're so squishy. when you sit down and your thighs expand oh my god, it's so hot and i love how i can lay down on them and you play with my hair, it's so comfortable i could fall asleep." your face heats up as you hear him ramble, you realise he's not even focused on comforting you at this point, he's just distracted about how much he loves you and can't help himself but talk about it. he's just carried away and in his own world talking about how perfect you are in his eyes and how your body in his words is 'a big bonus'.

"when you cheer for me in quidditch matches you whoop and cheer and jump up and down, i can't help but get distracted as i see your pretty face in the crowd and the upper half of your body, which i can see, jiggle as you jump. it's so hard as captain because i should have complete focus on the game but i'm just thinking about afterwards when i can see you and kiss you. oh and when i grab your love handles and pull you towards me at random moments of the day, bloody hell i love hearing your little gasp in surprise as i feel your plush body pressed against my harder and stronger one." you smile at that as he talks about his own body and his confidence, you really are complete opposites in that sense.

"your tummy rolls are super cute and your pudgy arms are so biteable, just wanna give 'em a big old bite and leave a pretty mark for my pretty girl. and don't even get me started on your stretch marks-" you start giggling at his rambling.

"don't get started on my stretch marks jamie," you interrupt and as he sees you cheerfully smile, he grins in return. "thank you james," you press your forehead against his and hold onto him.

"it's okay love, honestly i got super carried away and distracted and i just wanted to talk about you," he nuzzles the crook of your neck.

"i could tell," you giggle.

"it's all true though. i really do love everything about you, you're the sweetest inside and out." he squeezes you.

"i love you too james, you're the best boyfriend in the world." he smiles gleefully in return.

"let's get into bed," he says suddenly standing up and picking you with him.

you gasp not expecting it, "it's the middle of the day jamie."

"yeah but it's winter and i want a cuddle." you can never say no to a cuddle with james.

i'm so glad my blog brings you comfort and i really hope you like this and brings you comfort too!! it brought me comfort and i wrote it asdfghjk. this became longer than intended but i got carried away a bit.

love you too<3

[koshifairy]

𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐬/𝐨

just writing this because i was playing and imagining kuroo upset because he wants my attention .. 😟 but this time im now writing for kuroo </3

𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐀

he's not as clingy as atsumu so it's not such a problem you don't pay attention to him :|

but sometimes he feels that he needs to give and receive your kisses, be cuddled with you in bed and hear you speak whatever u want to tell him

because he loves your voice

it might even be from your games

he just wanna hear your voice pls

but he just CAN'T tell you like “Y/N I WANT YOUR ATTENTION PLEASE”

so he will kick your chair or foot to make you look at him

or cough loudly

but it usually doesn't work :(

so he will make excuses >:)

“don't u think u r playing too much???”

“when you get a headache i don't want to hear you complaining”

“HEY idiot your hand must be hurting stop playing”

no but seriously, tsukishima cares about you, sometimes he is worried about your health :(

both physical and mental

he WILL force you to stop playing if he realizes that you have been playing for a long time

also, if he is by your side and hear that someone cursed you at the game. he will open the mic and swear back

PLS he gets so angry. nobody can treat u like that 😠

the person never is gonna open the mic anymore.

sometimes, tsuki stares at you. thinking about how cute you are

he has a lot of pic of u playing.

he secretly loves seeing u play 😟 he smiles so big seeing you happy because you won

and he laughs because you lost and got angry

“u look so cute angry”

“what?”

“nothing.” 😐

maybe he does research on the games you like to play and try to learn how to play with yamaguchi, then try to play with you :((

𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔

every time that you don't answer his texts, he KNOWS that you’re playing

and that when he gets home he will fight to get your attention

making those tik tok pranks?? yes.

faking a horrible cry to see if you stop playing? y e s.

he just wants to cuddle with you :(

because he is so clingy pls he LIVES for your attention is like wanting your attention 24/7

sometimes he hates having a gamer s/o.

but he also loves :( he thinks u r so cute playing

and when u get angry oomg

u r like 👿 and atsumu is 😍🥰

atsumu is gonna try to learn how to play the games u play just to have more time with you.

but if he can't, he'll just beg you to sit on his lap and promising not to interrupt you when you play

but whenever he sees you concentrated, he stars kissing your neck, running your hand over your thighs..

“what? why u r looking at me like that babe? im not doing anything 😊”

atsumu is gonna be jealous with he sees u playing with another person

and if he heard you dying of laughing with this person omg

or he will have the face of a sad dog and get even more clingy

or he will ignore you and use that tiktok prank to call a girl and make you jealous 😜

but if it doesn't work he will come back with a sad face begging for ur attention :(

he secretly hates the person who was playing with u now

[thecameronchronicles]

Welcome Home

TW: Smut. Language. 

SUMMARY: Sweet smut after you return home to Drew after a girl's trip. 

WORD COUNT: 1300

REQUESTED

The reader & friends going on a girls trip and Drew being sad and annoyed he cant come with her and is forced to be away from her for a few days and when she comes back they have i missed you sex ?💞

Welcome Home

"Gender exclusive trips are stupid." Drew muttered as you set the final article of clothing in your suitcase before smirking at his pout. 

"It's only for the weekend…" You reminded him as he spotted specific red lace that made him glare. 

"And WHY are you taking my favorite pair?!"

"Because I know they're your favorite." You teased as his pout worsened. Holding a sense of pity for him for a moment, you set yourself with one knee at the outside of his thigh as your other foot remained planted firmly on the ground. 

"I promise when I come back, you'll have my full attention…" You kissed his lips playfully, extending that trail to his cheek and neck as his fingers rode up the naked skin of your legs and beneath the skirt you'd chosen for today's ensemble. 

"It could be like this. On the plane. In the hotel room. After you get back going out with them…" 

"Which is why you have to stay…" His eyes narrowed as he pulled back, almost insulted. 

"If you come, I'll never leave the hotel."

"And the problem?"

"This is for Madelyn. She needs this, Drew…"

"And what about what Drew needs?" He muttered. 

"Don't worry baby, I'll take good care of you when I get back."

The flight was excruciating as you longed for him. You came to regret keeping him at home as you knew he would have calmed your nerves through the flight and given you a distraction once you landed at your destination. But once you were joined with your friends, many of whom you met through Drew, that melancholic sadness was altered for the distraction of the fun you had with them. 

At least it had until you felt that buzz. 

"Miss you. Hope you're having a good time." You could imagine the pout still across his face as you smirked at your phone. 

"Miss you too. Wish you were here." You grinned. 

"Are you serious?! I tried to! Now I am all alone. And cold."

"Are you naked Mr Starkey?!"

"Bet that favorite red lace on your ass that I am…" You managed to bite your lip without being teased about it as Madelyn carried the conversation about her latest project, all while you continued sexting Drew. 

"I'll be right back." You told Carlacia as she nodded, relaying the message to those who asked. 

"Are you behaving yourself?" You asked as you slipped into the bathroom stall, gliding off those panties before setting them on the edge of your fingers and sending the sight to him via a quick text. 

"Because I can't seem to."

"Call me." But before you could dial his number, his icon already came across your screen. 

"Baby, what are you trying to do?"

"I feel bad for leaving. And I can't stop thinking about you…I'm wet, Drew…"

"Fuck…" He breathed on his side of the phone. 

"Put one finger in. I want to hear you get yourself off for me…"

"I want it to be you-"

"And it could have been but you insisted I stay here. So you have to do it yourself. But I'm gonna listen."

"What about you?"

"I've been stroking since you sent me that picture…" You grinned widely as he groaned. 

"Now two fingers. Bend them just like I do…I want you to be quiet but let me hear that labored breathing, baby…" He chuckled. "Guess that's what you get for teasing me. Could be as loud as you want if I was with you…but now you have to be all quiet and I get to come so loudly for you…"

"Drew…" You breathed his name desperately as he scoffed. 

"Keep going baby. Thumb to your clit. I don't have to tell you…you know how I do it for you…" 

"Mmm…" You moved for him. 

"You close baby?" 

"So close…" You groaned as he smiled through his words. 

"Fuck…baby, me too…so fucking close for you…" 

"Come."

"You first." You fought the urge to cry out for him, managing to display that breathing he suggested before hearing him moan and reach his outlet for you. 

"I want you to put those panties back on so you don't drip everywhere. And I want them back on when you come home. Have a good night baby…I need to shower now." 

This was only a few hours after you left and you needed to get off. After a series of flirtatious texts, you became distracted in the club you were dragged to and the bar after that until you were taken back to the hotel. Falling asleep incredibly tipsy, you spent the next day sightseeing and shopping while sweeter texts were exchanged. 

But that Monday morning couldn't come fast enough. No matter the amount of times you tried to find relief by his pictures, his voice, or those dirty texts, nothing compared to him. His warmth. His strength. His dominance but also compassion. And it was why you were the first to leave the collection of girls that gathered for the weekend, all until you came back into Los Angeles later that night. 

Drew was waiting impatiently by the door, the second it came open, your face taken between his hands. 

"I want to hear about it…but I wanna make you come first…" He explained, lifting you up against the door as he kicked the door closed before leading you to the bedroom. Clothes were removed in quick succession as he saw you had obeyed his request. 

"How many times did you come for me in these?"

"Too many…not enough…"

"And you're still so wet?" You nodded. 

"Let me fix that…" He pulled the panties freely from your hips before pulling you over his shoulders. 

"Let me make it worse to make it feel better." He explained as you nodded, your back arching immediately as the single connection of his tongue to your sex made the distance worth it. He savored you, as always, only now, doing so slowly. Every single action collected in stride as you pleaded for him overhead. 

"Plesse, Drew…"

"You don't want to help me, baby? All those pictures…that teasing?"

"Plesse, I missed you…" 

"Show me…" He guided you to the edge of the bed as you followed suit. And yet, the usual stamina he expressed had been interrupted by the lack of usual release you had granted him nearly each and every day. Because of this, he drove you over him and returned you back to the flat rest on your back. 

"That mouth is dangerous, baby…"

"It's missing you…" 

"Does this?" He asked, slowly penetrsrinf your sex. "Oh, it has…" He breathed deeply in approval. 

"Please, Drew…I missed you…" 

"I missed you too baby… that's the only reason I'm not gonna tease you. But I'm still going to take my time." You nodded, basking in the slow strides that climbed to quick succession, only to return to savor the way you clenched around him. Hours were spent beneath him, another set in a straddle over him as he massaged your breasts while you drove him in to you, as you finalized the first interaction with the familiar, and favored, positioning of you on your knees and palms as he pulled you against his chest in those I moments prior to a mutual release. 

But through your high, he continued still, his fingers quickening at your clit as you pleaded his name. 

"DREW!"

"Three nights. I'd say that call for three orgasms…already one down…and I can already feel you close to a second…"

"Oh God!"

He grinned. "I'm going to show you just how much I missed you…give you a proper welcome home." He smacked your ass playfully. 

"And then you're going to make it up to me for having to sleep alone…Now where was I?"

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @camilynn @sweetestdesire

[headkiss]

hi babe! how are u? i saw that your requests were open soooo i went to a party the other day and the music was so loud that i got the worst headache and i felt so bad telling anyone cause i didn’t want to ruin the mood but my friend noticed and took me home and honestly it was the sweetest thing and i think that’s totally something steve would do <333

hiiii ty for your request lovely! hope u like it!!! | 0.6k of fluff

You didn’t want to ruin anyone’s fun, which is why you were hiding out in the upstairs bathroom of the party.

It started out great, you and Steve and your friends opting for a night out for a change. Steve even danced with you despite not being the most coordinated dancer. You were just happy to be with him. He kissed you before heading off to grab another drink, which is when things went downhill.

You’d been trying to ignore the ache in your head, the pounding in your skull. But, without Steve around to distract you, it came at you full force. So much so, it made you dizzy.

Saying ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s as you passed, you snuck your way through the crowd to the staircase. You weren’t sure where exactly you were headed, but you figured it’d be the slightest bit quieter up there.

The music was thumping so loudly you couldn’t think about anything other than your headache. The worst part was that you really had been enjoying yourself until it got bad.

When you noticed the bathroom was empty, you made your way there, closing and locking the door behind you.

You turned on the sink, splashing water on your face, cupping your hand under the stream to drink some, too. Anything that you thought might help. You figured you could stick it out in there while Steve had the chance to enjoy himself. You’d hate to cut his night short.

You know he’d never be upset with you over a headache. If anything, he’d rather be told so he could help you. He loves you enough that you know that without a doubt. However, you saw the smile on his face and the way he’d let loose tonight in a way he hasn’t in a while, and you didn’t want to take that away.

Steve eventually returned with his drink only to find the spot where he left you occupied by completely different people. He calls your name, but he can’t see you anywhere. He knows you couldn’t have gone far but he worried nonetheless.

He asks some people if they’ve seen you, and finally gets directed towards the stairs.

By the time he gets to the bathroom door, you’re holding yourself up by the sink, hands planted on the counter and head hung low. His knocking startles you until you hear his voice, muffled and worried.

“Pretty, you in there? It’s me, Steve.”

“One sec,” even your own voice makes you wince. You unlock the door and he opens it as soon as he hears the faint click.

“What are you doing hiding in here, huh?” He asks.

“Um. Nothing, we can go back down.”

He knows you better than anyone else, and he knows you’re not telling him something. He shuts the door so that it’s just you and him, and runs his hand along your arm until his fingers are tangled with yours. He gives your hand a squeeze.

“Tell me the truth, please?”

“Sorry. Just a headache, it’s fine-”

“Hey, if it’s bad we can go home, right now. It’s no problem,” he’s so sweet you think you might cry.

“But you were having so much fun,” you say, quiet and guilty, as if it’s your fault. “I can just wait, it’s okay.”

“Stop it. Let me take you home, ‘kay? I’d rather be taking care of you anyways.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind waiting.”

“Listen, I was only having fun ‘cause you were, too. If you didn’t come here I wouldn’t have, either. You are the best part of everything, so let me take you home.”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he smiles softly.

At home, he’s a dream, as always. He makes you food, brings you some meds, all of it. Your own personal caretaker no matter how much you assure him you can still do things on your own.

He takes care of you up until you’re in bed. Even then, he holds you close and makes sure you’re as comfortable as can be.

[ashwhowrites]

oooh if you’re up for fluffy #10 with eddie but it’s eddie trying to make cookies for his gf with a sweet tooth but fails and then more fluff

I am for sure up for fluff! I hope this is what you were looking for, and if it is not please let me know! I will gladly rewrite it.

“I know you had a bad day, so I made you cookies”

Eddie could easily tell Y/N was having a bad day. She'd usually smile at him every second, laugh at every joke he'd tell at lunch, and peck his lips before every class. Her lips were frowning this morning, and a fake small laugh would leave her lips at his horrible joke, and his lips had been lonely since last night. He wasn't sure what made her upset. He didn't know if she woke up upset, or as the day went on, it was not working in her favor. And the worst part is that he's been running to every class and barely saw her all day. It's like she was replaced by someone who was not his girlfriend.

 

He quickly sat down at the hellfire lunch table and realized she had not sat down yet, her spot was still vacant.

"Okay, does anyone know why my girl is so upset today?' Eddie asked out loud, hoping someone had an idea why she was so upset.

"I'm glad you noticed. I was getting worried. She didn't bring me my usual "good luck on your test" note, and I truly believe I failed that test because of it. Dustin answered.

Eddie rolled his eyes at the dramatic ending of his sentence, but the anxiety in his chest got worse when he heard she'd been weird with everyone. But secretly, he was happy to know that it wasn't him that was the problem.

"Yeah, I saw her crying in the hallway while she talked to Chrissy. Maybe she knows? " Mike butted in.

Eddie loudly clapped and pointed at Mike "You are a genius. Of course, the best friend would know. " He loudly exclaimed, causing eyes to drift towards him, but he shrugged it off. The chair next to him scraped against the floor loudly, and a heavy body plumped down with a sigh. His brown puppy eyes looked over to Y/N as she pulled out a textbook. His eyes grew more worried when he noticed she didn't even kiss him.

"Jesus Eddie, you gave me a heart attack." she clenched her chest. On any other day, Eddie would laugh, but today he was too worried about Y/N.

"Hey, baby." He softly smiled. He knew better than to ask her what was wrong in front of an audience, so for now, he would simply be gentler and sweeter than usual. He decided his heart hurt too much from the absence of her lips in the past 24 hours, so he quickly leaned in and tasted her lips. He felt her smile and kiss him back. But she pulled away faster than usual, and the smile was gone before he could blink. He grabbed her shaking hand under the table and placed it on his knee. It was a common way for her to comfort him, but sometimes just feeling him would comfort her. And he hoped the small gesture would help her feel more at ease. The group quickly fell into a discussion, but Eddie's eyes stayed on her the whole time.

 

Once the final bell rang, Eddie quickly moved in the direction of Chrissy's locker. "What's wrong with her?" Chrissy practically jumped out of her skin at the voice coming from over her shoulder.

"She's just having a hard day. I guess her parents got on her ass for getting a B on her last test. Her brother has been trying to get her to break up with you and convince his parents that you will just break her heart. And well, her favorite ponytail broke and she started sobbing in the hallway, but I think that was the final snap. " Eddie's heart hurt hearing that his girlfriend was going through so much and he didn't know. Granted, he wasn't able to see her after he dropped her off last night after their first date. He wondered why she didn't call; she knew he'd always answer the phone no matter what time it was. He also felt anger towards her asshole brother. That guy has been on their necks about their relationship since the very beginning.

 

Eddie thanked her for the information and raced to his van. Y/N was getting a ride from Steve since her work shift started pretty much right after school. Having a few hours before she got off, Eddie headed to the store. He paced down the baking aisle, looking at the many different cookie choices. He has never seen so many damn flavors in his life. Peanut butter? No, she hates peanut butter. Sugar? Well, that just seemed boring. Snickerdoodle? That sounded like a dog breed. Oatmeal? Yuck. Lastly, he saw chocolate chips. You can't go wrong with chips, right?

 

Wrong! Baking cookies was a lot harder than Eddie thought it would be. He cracked eggs, and half the shell went into the bowl. He tried to dig them out until Wayne told him that it ruined the eggs. He tried to soften the butter but ended up putting metal in the microwave. Wayne was not pleased with that one. He tried to measure out the oil and it slipped from his hands because they were greasy from the damn bottle. At one point, Wayne kicked him out of the kitchen and sent him to the couch while he fixed and cleaned the kitchen. "Okay Eddie, they are done in 20 minutes. Do not forget. " And he was out the door for work.

 

Eddie forgot about the cookies. He went to his bedroom with the idea of cleaning it up before his girlfriend arrived. but got sidetracked when a new idea popped into his head. And before he knew it, the smell of something burning took him away from his thoughts. "FUCK," he yelled as he raced to the kitchen. And sure enough, his cookies were very burned, like black. Eddie sighed heavily. All he wanted to do was make his girlfriend cookies, and he couldn't even do that.

 

Y/N was trying to survive the day. She missed Eddie and was looking forward to spending the night with him in his arms. All she needed was to be held and told that all would be okay. As Steve dropped her off at Eddie's trailer, she noticed many of the windows were open. She walked in confused. Her heart melted at the sight of her boyfriend holding a plate of something black in the shape of a circle with a beautiful smile on his face. "What are you up to, baby?" She asked as she kissed his lips. His smile silently faded.

"Well, I knew you were having a bad day, and you always say a sweet treat would make you feel better when you were young, so I thought I'd try it, and well, it was a disaster." He laughed.

 

Her heart had turned into a puddle at her feet, and if she didn't walk carefully, she'd slip in it. Her eyes got wet and she cried for the second time that day. Seeing the tears, Eddie quickly put the plate on the counter and cupped her cheeks.

 

"Hey no, don't cry. I promise you don't have to eat them." He tried to joke, and it landed. A watery laugh left her lips, and it was real. His stomach flips at the sound, and his own smile lights up his face. His eyes studied her face with adoration.

 

"Good tears baby, I can't believe you'd do all of this just because I had a bad day." She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself close. Feeling his body heat cover her everywhere.

 

He kissed her head with a soft caress. "Well, of course, I did. I love you and want you to feel better on your bad days. "

 

Let's just say her day got so much better.

[scekrex]

Hi! I’ve been feeling pretty bad about being Queer a lot recently, (No idea why, probs just seasonal depression) not necessarily in a internalized Homophobia typa way (tho I guess I do have some of that and I have to thank being raised in the south for that ig) but more in a “Oh yeah… a large part of the world wants me to be dead” typa way. Especially this year as there’s going to be/have been a lot of milestones that have reminded me that my life is going to change a lot soon.

I honestly just want Adam to tell me everything’s gonna be fine, in his own Adam way, which definitely involves cursing, probably a lot of cursing, can’t be an Adam fic without it. Maybe some smooches, tho that could 100% just be my simping coming in LMAO.

Your fics honestly make my day whenever I read them and they’ve become my go-to source of serotonin for the day when I’m low. I also made this request mostly to say thank you for putting in so much effort towards your request. I love your work a lot and I hope you have a wonderful rest of your day! 💜💜💜

I'm so sorry you feel that way and I really really hope this fic helps ya through it - even if it's just a little. I tried to let Adam act as much in character as possible while also making it fluff <3

And I know the weight of the world can't crush my chest

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, implied depressed!reader

note: not beta read bc fuck you

Adam banged the door to your shared bedroom open which caused you to flinch and hold the blanket you had pulled over your head even tighter. “Rise and fucking shine, bitchboy,” his voice was loud, he wasn’t yelling, he was just speaking loudly to make sure you would hear him no matter if you were asleep or awake. “Leave,” you quietly responded, your voice was shaking and you sounded like you had been crying for a long time - which you hadn’t. But you were not doing well mentally and the least thing you needed in that moment was Adam telling you to simply suck it up and push through. You had been sucking shit up and you had been pushing through for so long and it only caused you to end up worse.

You felt how the mattress lowered as he sat down next to you. His hand came down to rest where he suspected your head to be, gently pulling the blanket away. The strength to fight against that, to yell at him to simply fuck off and leave you be was not within you anymore so you simply let it happen with a sigh. Why couldn’t he just listen to your words, why was he always doing the opposite of what you said? Was he trying to push your buttons? Well, that time it didn’t seem like it, because when you looked up at him concern reflected in his usually confident eyes. A thing that made you wonder if it was about to turn out differently from what you had thought. “Okay what the fuck crawled up your fucking ass and how the hell do I pull it out without fucking destroying you?” he asked dead serious and despite his weird way of wording it, he actually seemed worried - not only that, he had also offered you help. You had the chance to tell him how to help you.

There was just one tiny problem with that: you had no idea how he could help you - you didn’t even know how you were supposed to help yourself because you weren’t aware what the problem was to begin with. You knew that you felt down, that your body felt like there was no energy left inside of it to keep you going. You felt like sleeping all day and all night for the rest of forever, but that simply would not do. So you remained silent - why speak when you had nothing to say and the energy of your body was almost non existent? Adam sighed at the response he didn’t get and gently ran his hand through your hair - where all those gentle touches came from you didn’t know but you did know that you needed them more than anything. And that was why you leaned into his touch without hesitation. Your eyes fell shut and your body focused on Adam’s touch.

“There ain’t shit I can do, huh?” His voice was quieter now and you appreciate him lowering his voice a little very dearly. That was when the brunette pushed the blanket away entirely and just as you were about to complain about it he replaced it with his wings, pulled you close against his chest and kissed your head. “You fucking know that I have no freaking idea how to properly comfort your sad ass,” and while the way he phrased it would’ve caused others to think that he didn’t care at all, you knew better. It was simply how he talked, even during serious situations. It was his coping mechanism that you had learned throughout the years with him.

You wrapped your arms around the taller angel as you pressed your face against his chest, giving in to the urge to hide away from God’s eyes - from Heaven’s eyes. “Just stay,” you mumbled into the fabric of his shirt as you inhaled his scent deeply. He gave you comfort. The world could turn against you and yet Adam would stay, that was something you knew and that knowledge gave you the comfort you needed. And so did his body warmth, his scent, his presence, the touch of his feathered wings against your bare skin.

Adam sighed again, then he spoke up again, “Whatever the fuck you’re going through, you’re not alone, got that? I won’t fucking leave you to yourself to rot.” You smiled against his chest, placing a soft kiss onto the fabric that covered up his skin as a little thank you. A thank you you were unable to voice, afraid you’d fully fall apart. You didn’t want to cry, not when Adam was doing his best to make you feel better and though you knew you were allowed to cry, you swallowed the tears and simply embraced the comfort Adam was providing.

And for a single moment the world seemed to stop for the both of you and the weight on your shoulders felt less heavy.

[writing-with-gremworm]

A Bothersome Herbivore

I'm not sure when it happened, this tiny herbivore started clinging to me. It's hard to get a break since they follow me everywhere. When I nap, they nap beside me. When I eat, they follow along. Though, the latter is better than the time they slept so soundly I was able to leave them for a few days. When I went back to my normal napping spot they were sitting like a dejected mouse. They had teary little eyes, and their complexation was terrible.

I learned later that they slept through lunch, so they ended up just not eating the first day, and they refused to move during the weekend when I hadn't retuned yet. The worst part about it is they were so happy when I came back. They were like a stupid dog, so happy to cling to me again.

I let them be for a while. It wasn't really my problem, and they didn't actually bother me most of the time. They were surprisingly quiet.

"Why exactly do you follow around like a lost dog?"

"I dunno. I just like you. So, I stay with you, because you're safe."

It was weird. I shouldn't be safe for them. I'm just a lousy second prince with nothing in my future but disappointment. I am, and will always be, second best in the eyes of anyone else, so why is it that this creature clings to me? I still don't understand it.

The thing that irks me the most is that I started to worry about them. I woke up from a nap as usual, expecting them to be beside me. They weren't there. The little mouse had scurried off somewhere and that made me uneasy.

"This is bullshit."

I must have done so subconsciously, but I ended up looking around the places I usually went, expecting to find them there. I only found them when I returned to the greenhouse. They were sitting, waiting for me to come back.

"Leona!" They sounded so happy, their eyes lighting up as if the best person in the world was standing right in front of them.

"Ah." I had so many questions, but none of them mattered. 'Why did you wait? Where did you go? Are you okay?' They were here, so why did it matter?

We returned to routine. But one thing did change. I started leaning on them. I don't know if they noticed, they never mentioned it to me. This change ... felt necessary.

In time it felt stranger to be separate from them than to be near them. In a way, I guess I must have found them comforting too. So, it felt strange when one day, they started crying.

"What's with the tears?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.

"I don't know. I just- I." They sobbed quietly, sniffling and rubbing their eyes. They tried so hard to calm down, only to sob more. It hurt, hearing them quiet their sobs. I felt like I saw a bit of myself in them. Maybe that's why I spoke up.

"Don't force it, just sob okay?" It was a useless comment. They would probably cry for a while anyways. They did stop trying to choke back their sobs, though they kept sobbing quietly, as if they forgot how to cry loudly.

"I'm scared. I don't know if I want to go home or stay here. I feel unwanted either way. I don't know if anyone would miss me if I left, of if anyone in my world even realizes I'm gone. I'm terrified because it doesn't matter which world I choose. I'll be alone again in either world."

A beat.

Right, they needed to go home eventually. They weren't from this world. I forgot that somehow. Unlike Yuu, who was social, this one wasn't particularly close to anyone. Except maybe ... me.

"Oh? Aren't I right here? Do you think I'll forget you because you vanish for a little?"

"I-I ... I thought you were annoyed by me."

"Then why would I let you cling to me? I could have actively ignored you."

"But you ... you left me alone and I ..."

"So? People can change their minds. I'm not running from you anymore, so don't go running from me, okay?"

"Heh, hehehehe."

"Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry I just- I didn't expect you to say something like that. It's so sweet."

"Don't get used to it."

"Hehe, I know. I'm just ... Thank you."

"... It's fine."

Things were nice after that. We returned to routine.

Or, as close to routine as possible. I found myself gazing at them for longer than I intended. If they were still asleep when I was up, I would pick them up. If they were hungry, we'd eat early, or I'd get Ruggie to buy us snacks.

'Fuck.' I had fallen for them. It was confusing. They weren't particularly pretty, or smart, or even useful. Even so, I found them undeniably breathtaking. I couldn't look away from them.

It was juvenile, but I couldn't help but touch their hand. Just to feel their skin against mine. I wanted to kiss their forehead, to hold them in my arms, to claim them.

I'm no idiot. I know I'm handsome, I know my position, though lesser than my brother's, is coveted. I understand that being a member of royalty limits my options for love. Despite everything, I wanted them to stay with me. If nothing else, I just wanted to continue our days like this. The litte moments of warmth, their laughter, their joy. I wanted to bask in it.

When did my world stop being gray?

No, not my world. Just them.

It's still hard to justify waking up, to find a reason to move forward every day. But even still, I want to be selfish and be beside them. I wonder if this is what it means to feel safe with someone.

"I'm going to graduate this year. You've still got a few years left."

"... Yeah ..." They smile sadly.

"Come to me. When you finish. Find me, and I'll have a napping spot ready to share." It was a stupid promise. They might be blocked from my side. They might not even be able to understand me outside of school property.

But I think their smile was worth it.

--

"You've been sulking in that window every day, brother." A grating voice says, a smirk decorating the words.

"So what?" I glare, irritated by the interruption. I come to this window whenever I think about them. It seems like a spot they'd like. Or maybe they just liked me. Maybe after all this time they forgot me. It would be better that way. For them to forget me, they can live a different life, instead of being tied to the second prince.

"I was just worried. How can I not worry a little when you're my brother?"

"Piss off."

"Ah, I see you don't want company. Should I send your visitor away?" My ears twitch. It's rare I receive visitors. It's even rarer my 'perfect' brother bothers to tell me about them.

"A visitor? Haiz. I have enough sense not to turn visitors away." I shift, hopping down from the window ledge.

My heart is beating faster than I would like. It seems like my chest is going to burst at this rate. It will be disappointing if it's not them, so I shouldn't keep my hopes up.

"Leona?" A familiar voice chimes as I enter the room. They smile warmly at me and walk over, looking at me somewhat reluctantly.

"I'm surprised you actually came here." I hold out my hand. They take it carefully and I pull them into a hug, "Welcome home." I add with a whisper.

They tear up, hugging me tightly.

"Yeah, I'm home." They mutter. They feel warm in my arms. They feel like the keystone of an arch, holding me together despite being so small.

'So, I still love you.' I think to myself, closing my eyes and forcing myself not to do too much. I want to give them soft kisses, I want to whisk them to my room and cuddle with them. I want to tell them how much I love them. But the words don't leave my throat. I can't love them, not as a royal.

"Well, isn't this a nice reunion." That ruined it.

"And you're still here because? This is my guest. I thought you'd leave." I hiss, glaring at my brother.

"There's no need to be hostile. I'm just surprised you have someone close to you."

"Oh? Thanks, I didn't realize I needed to tell you these things."

"I'm not chastising you, I'm glad. Really. Ah, I should probably introduce myself to your lover."

"Lover?"

"Lover?"

"Are you two not? Ah, I'm sorry for misunderstanding." He doesn't sound even slightly apologetic.

"I-It's fine."

"... This is my brother. That's it, don't worry about getting close to him."

"Oh- okay." They smile sadly.

"Well this does complicate things a little. I had just convinced the elders to let you have your lover join you here. But if they're not your lover, then I'll have to clear that up."

"That won't be necessary. It'll be more convenient if everyone assumes we're lovers anyways." 'Though I'm not particularly fond of receiving help from you, I won't turn it away when it benefits me.'

"S-So then- Do I- have to pretend to be your lover?" They seem surprised, their face flushed a bit. It's cute. It makes me want to lick their cheeks and nibble on their ear.

"No, just act like before. Us spending so much time together will get the point across."

"Oh! Okay." They nod, seeming perhaps a little disappointed.

"Last time we spoke, I promised to have a napping spot pick out for us. I think I found one. Though, you'll have to sit on my lap if you want to lean on me." The window ledge wasn't wide enough to sit side by side unless you laid against the window.

'This spot is chosen partially out of my selfishness. If nothing else, then I can hold you tightly. Not that you need to know my reasoning.'

"That's okay. If you're okay with it, I mean. I've always kind of wanted to hug you when napping." They admit wanting to cuddle closer.

'I wonder.'

I pick them up, cupping their rear as they cling to me. They seem a bit surprised.

"W-We could just walk there-"

"We are walking there. What? Did you never wonder how I carried you before?"

"I never thought about it- This is embarrassing. I could just walk with you."

"Hm, no. You clung to me this long, cling to me more, won't you?"

"Leona." They whine.

I can't help but chuckle a little. This was warm. It felt nicer than just remembering them.

"Hey, do you love me?"

"What? I mean- yes. You're the closest person I have."

"I mean, romantically, sexually. How, do you love me?"

"T-This is very sudden- and I don't know how to answer- aah."

"That's fine. We've got plenty of time." I sit down, letting them situate themselves on my lap as we sit by the window. I wrap my arms around their waist, and rest on my chin on their shoulder.

"You're more affectionate than I remember."

"Well, I have to make up for the missed nap time cuddles somehow, right?"

"What? Hah, hahaha. Sure, let's go with that. Leona. I missed you."

"Yeah ... me too."

"I never thought you'd admit it ... so ... the question."

"Do you love me?"

"Yeah, that one ... was it, because you love me?"

"Yeah."

"W-wait really? Um! How so?"

"Hm, I'll tell you after you tell me. I did ask first."

"Hahaha, okay, that's fair." They lean into me, resting against my chest, relaxing in my arms. We sit there for a while, just enjoying each other's company. It doesn't really matter how they answer. We'll stay beside each other anyways. I can tell that much. They wouldn't have found me if they didn't intend to stay.

"Hey ... Leona ..."

"Yeah?"

They turn their head and move so their mouth is close to my ear before whispering their answer. Perhaps embarrassed, or worried that telling me loudly would hurt me. Regardless, the action was cute.

"I'm not sure. I've never felt anything like this before. I've never had the chance. So, I may not get it right the first time. I don't know what type of love this is."

"Okay, then let's figure it out together." I've waited this long, waiting a little longer should be fine. Besides, I'm with them now, so that is enough.

[bloodiedrogue]

LESSONS IN CONFESSING (5)

SUMMARY: You and Peter go on a little field trip!

PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 7,023

WARNINGS: Angst, canon typical violence, misuse of a hockey stick, descriptions of a panic attack, a little bit of comfort at the end I SWEAR.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, hope you guys are liking the fic so far. I'll be honest we only have one chapter left! At least... of this arc. >:)

CHAPTER LIST / LAST CHAPTER / MASTERLIST

-

The feeling of his lips still lingers as you crash to the ground. In a heap of pain, you crumple to the floor ass first, your head barely missing the leg of your bed frame, causing you to let out a frustrated huff and bring your hands to your eyes, palming the sockets in frustration because what the fuck was that? 

The last thing you expected going into this was a kiss. Really anything other than an earful of curse words and repeated avoidance was all you anticipated. You didn’t think in a million years he’d kiss you and then shove you through a goddamn portal!

“What the fuck, man?”  

You’re not sure whether to cry or laugh as you lay there, shell-shocked over the whole ordeal. Nothing about that interaction made much sense now that you’re thinking about it. Instead of exhibiting his usual aggression, Miguel tried to reason with you, his voice almost apologetic as you screamed in his face demanding answers. In the moment you didn’t notice, but now that you’re away you can see everything differently —clearly in a way that has you squinting at the ceiling trying to remember. 

His body looked different, almost smaller. His eyes, no longer in their usual narrowed stance, looked soft. Worried. As if your presence there was less so an annoyance and more of an actual problem. Not to mention the coolness of his voice. Usually, Miguel’s as hotheaded as they come so to hear a tone without any fight behind it felt unusual. Wrong in a way that makes you wonder what the hell changed. In those short hours between conversations what happened that made his hostility subside? 

And what the fuck is Alchemex? 

Shooting upward, you make a beeline for your desk. As per usual it’s a mess, covered in empty bottles of beer and Gatorade as well as protein bar wrappers. Angrily, you swat a pile of the latter away, cursing under your breath as you turn on your laptop, groaning at the streamline of notifications that begin to roll in. Where are you? Sweetheart, are you okay? Call me when you get this. Pete’s looking for you!

There’s about nearly thirty or so texts synching in through your phone. Most of them are from Peter and May, but sprinkled in between there’s a few from Gwen and MJ too, all of them filled with words of worry making you swear again and race to the living room. You’re pretty sure you left your phone on the coffee table. It’s either there or somewhere on the couch, you guess, sprinting across the hardwood floor only to stop in your tracks, noticing Peter. 

His back is to you but regardless, you can see that he’s talking to someone through his watch, his voice low and broken. You figure whoever’s on the other end of that call is probably telling him what happened. Either then or bad-mouthing him for doing a bad job of keeping this all a secret. For letting his stupid, civilian sister jump into another world unsupervised. 

“Thanks, I uh, gotta’ go.” 

It’s the one thing you hear before he turns to face you, eyes narrowing to take in your dishevelled appearance.

“Where the hell did you go?”

Fuck, he’s mad. Not that that’s surprising. You’d be mad too if you were in his shoes. It’s just you’re not used to mad Peter. Peter whose eyes are barely visible through the rage that collects across his brow. Peter who crosses his arms over his chest and anxiously taps his foot just like Ben when you were kids. 

“Out?”

He scoffs, loudly. Angrily. A loud eruption of reverberation that has you closing your eyes and flinching, waiting for the impact. “Out? Are you kidding me? I leave for five seconds and somehow you end up across the universe by yourself with no phone?”

“Would a phone even work in—“

“You’re lucky Hobie was there. If it were anyone else you could’ve gotten in serious trouble.”

You open your mouth to argue but ultimately stop, realizing he’s right. You did something recklessly stupid. Something you promised to never do since he got bit by that spider and started swinging through the city fighting crime so you and the rest of his family would be safe. 

“I’m sorry.”

As expected, he ignores your apology, groaning as he pinches the bridge of his nose and begins to pace. “I mean, seriously, what were you thinking? Had it ever occurred to you that maybe following me into a portal was maybe not the greatest idea?”

“Well yeah, of course I thought about it.” 

“Did you really?”

You did, obviously. You thought about it for as long as you could before you decided, but he’ll never know that. Not with how fucking stubborn he’s being. “Look, I only followed you because I thought you’d be on the other side! If I’d of known you’d be long gone already I wouldn’t have jumped!” 

“Somehow I highly doubt that.” 

You can’t help but frown knowing this is a losing argument. No matter what you say or do will end in an ever-growing rift. Peter’s trust in you will falter the longer you speak and all you can think about is how much you don’t want that. 

You’ve already lost the trust of one Spider-Man tonight. You don’t need to lose another. 

Defeated, you cover your face in your hands, letting out a heavy breath as you walk toward the kitchen to grab the scotch. 

“Oh, please don’t bring that out.” Peter groans as you grab the bottle along with the usual glasses, flashing him the most apologetic smile you can muster as you usher him to the couch and begin your ritual. 

“I don’t want to drink with you.”

“Then don’t. Just sit.” 

Thanks to Miguel’s past visits the bottle’s pretty much gone anyway. A detail you can tell confuses Peter as you empty the last of its contents into the glasses and set one in front of him. 

“Look, I’m sorry I jumped into another dimension without your permission. I had —I mean—“ 

“Are you okay?”

You stop, confused. Peter always asks if you’re okay. Unlike most, he’s actually considerate of the way you feel in stressful situations, but something about the way he asks this time feels different. Unplanned. Spontaneous in a way he wasn’t necessarily prepared for. 

“Yeah, why?”

  “The scotch is gone.” 

“So?”

“You only ever bring it out when I’m here,” he points out. 

“Usually.”

“Usually?”

You nod, reaching for your glass to take a sip. When it hits your lips you can’t help but cringe, suddenly feeling wrong. As if the taste inside your mouth has been replaced with something inherently false. 

“You’re hiding something.” 

“No.”

You are. Sort of. At least, you didn’t realize you were until now. Over the course of the last few months, you figured Peter knew about Miguel’s visits. About his weird, overbearing boss hopping through your window semi-regularly to get patched up and sleep on your couch. It seemed like something he would mention, given the amount of intimacy you shared when you cleaned his wounds. All those countless nights of scotch fuelled arguments and the never-ending debate of identity. 

Stupidly, you assumed Miguel told Peter everything, but now that you’re sitting next to him, glancing between the empty bottle and his troubled expression, you know that he didn’t. Not a single fucking word was uttered between the two of them and now you’re the one that has to bear the news. 

“You’re horrible, you know that?” 

If you weren’t already so stressed you’d laugh. But considering everything that’s happened over the course of twenty-four or so odd hours (maybe, honestly you have no idea at this point) you’re too exhausted. 

“God, this is all so messed up.” 

You’re at your wit's end, falling into the abyss. Your head is hurting and your chest feels like it’s a ticking time bomb with the way your heart rate suddenly rises. In the corner of your eye, you can see Peter’s face begin to soften, his eyes floating in a space between stern and concern. Ever so slowly he inches closer to you on the couch, pulling you tightly against his chest as you inhale a little hard and find yourself struggling to get it back out. At which point, the air in your lungs grows three sizes, filling the cavity of your chest; tightening around your innards like a half-tied noose ready to slide into its final form. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” 

His voice is simultaneously beside you and distant. The way it sounds is morphed by the time it hits your ears, distorting in waves as if you’re falling further into the ocean. You can’t hear or breathe and as time passes you can feel your vision start to go fuzzy as you try to focus on the glass in front of you. 

It makes you think of Miguel, stupidly. Of all those nights spent sitting beside each other, talking about whatever topic of interest arose in the moment. Somehow, despite the countless hours spent together, the level of importance in those conversations was minimal, ranging from things like favourite dog breeds to the most influential shows of the 90s. 

In those moments, the details he gave were vague, bordering on mass-produced opinions rather than ones of his own. Each time he answered one of your questions you were sceptical of his answer, always raising your brow in question before diving into some bullshit debate. 

Staring at the fuzzy outline of the glass, you wonder if any of what he said was actually true. If he actually preferred baseball over football. If he thought video games were a pointless medium. If he favoured the smokier scotches over the brinier ones. 

In the moment he could’ve said anything and you’d partially believe it. Out of the desire to know more about him, there was always this sliver of acceptance. This willingness to give him the benefit of the doubt, especially with the easy topics. Revealing to you his favourite things seemed pretty low on the overall secrecy scale, so it always felt like there might be some truth there. A desire of his own to offer up a part of himself. 

You know now it was probably all a lie. Every last word uttered inside your cramped apartment was nothing more than a diversion tactic to keep himself guarded and fell for it like some fucking idiot. 

God, you hate him. More than what you started with, your hatred grows as you pull yourself from Peter’s grasp and steady your breath, wiping your face in the process. 

He doesn’t deserve your tears. Or any time spent thinking of how that kiss made you feel so completely full and warm and —fuck, enough of that. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you lie, hoping he’ll drop it; knowing he won’t. 

“Okay, well we both know that’s a lie.” 

You roll your eyes and watch as he downs the liquor in front of him, barely even registering the strength as he swallows it whole. “Fuck you and your stupid spider senses.” 

“I think this time they’re just plain old Parker ones.” 

“That’s even worse.” 

“Sure is, now spill.”

It’s hard to come up with the right words, at first. Each time you open your mouth, ready to tell him everything you’re met with a reluctant nagging at the back of your head, telling you to shut up. To keep this all a secret because it’s classified. But then you remember this isn’t about him. It’s about you in this universe among all the other ones. 

“Before I start, I uh —I need you to promise you’re not going to tell anyone. Like, seriously anyone.” 

Peter looks at you with questionable eyes, obviously wondering what you mean as you sigh and begin to go into detail. 

“Truth is, Miguel’s been coming over,” you say, trying to gauge his unwaveringly neutral reaction. “After that horrible brunch day he showed up in the middle of the night all fucked up so I let him stay. We talked briefly. I offered him ol’ the painkiller and scotch trick and since then he’s been coming over.”

  “How frequently?”

You shrug. “Semi.” 

There’s a pause, during which Peter’s jaw tightens as he leans back, raising his hands to his face. “Do you have —oh, I don’t know—an exact amount maybe?” 

You mirror his position, resting your head against the backing of the couch. With a sigh you glance up to the ceiling and try to count every individual visit, realizing quickly that they sort of just flow together like one long conversation spanning over the course of eight or so weeks. 

“I think twelve?”

His mouth drops open in shock. “Twelve?”

“Give or take.”

The next thing you know Peter’s grumbling into his hands, muttering about the double standard of rules —about how Miguel should know better and how this could ruin everything. 

You’re sure it has something to do with some inter-dimensional laws. Like time travel, there’s probably some sort of code all the spiders live by where they don’t mess with the order of things. People from other universes aren’t meant to mingle unless it’s for the purpose of keeping order. Where you’re from is where you stay and Miguel showing up time and time again without anyone knowing is a direct violation of that. 

“I don’t know if this is like, against the rules or whatever but he told me… things.” 

“What kind of things?” 

“Uh, things about me?” 

It sounds wrong when you say it like that, especially when Peter sits back up, dropping his hands to look at you with wide eyes. You discover then that you definitely could have worded it better —thought about the implications of your phrasing before letting the words fly out of your mouth. This is a serious matter after all. 

“He told me he knows me —sort of,” you explain. "I can’t remember the exact words, but it was something along the lines of in every universe you are infuriating followed by him arguing how he understands me more than I think he does.”

As you roll your eyes at the memory, you can see that Peter’s still processing, his gaze darting around the room at full speed. At the same time, his chest rises and falls in quick succession, his entire body fidgeting throughout the breaths until suddenly he’s completely still and staring at his watch. 

“Did he say anything else?”

Despite everything he’s kept from you, you feel obligated to lie for Miguel. To stop the conversation right there and call it a day. In the long run, it’d save him a lot of grief —probably you as well depending on how he responds. If you stop now, that’s it. The book closes and you get to move on. 

Do you even want that?

You’re not sure you do. Not after Miguel’s final words. Sure, you don’t really know what they mean —how they apply to you and him and all the rules that have been set in place, but at this point you’re not willing to wait to see how things play out. Your patience is thin on a good day, and considering the severity of everything happening the idea of staring at that ticking clock, waiting for whatever it is to happen, isn’t an option.

So you have to tell him. About Miguel’s confession, about the conversation in the control room, about those final words uttered before he kissed you. 

“Hobie took me to HQ.” 

It’s the only thing that needs to be said for Peter to understand that the situation is going further downhill. Immediately, his face falls into a panic, his hands moving to grip the roots of his hair as he sighs and leans back, waiting for the other bomb to drop.

When it does he’s a mess of anxious energy. Every thought that zips through his ears is showcased across his face, ranging from confused to angry, ending in desperation you’re not sure you’ve witnessed. 

“I have to talk to him.” 

He’s standing from the couch and stepping over your feet before you can even blink. Quickly, you follow and reach to grab the wrist that houses his watch, pulling him back to a reality where it’s just you and him and the urgency of everything is paused for just a minute. 

“You need to talk to me first, Pete,” you beg, feeling him peel himself away from your grasp. 

“He should’ve known not to come here.”

His fingers are rubbing rough circles into his temples now, pressurizing the stress. Turning it into a physical sensation he can work through. You know this because you do the same when you’re stressed. Something about feeling that pain on your skin instead of the inside of your head makes everything easier. More palatable when the world feels like it’s ending. It’s something Ben taught you to do when you were kids. “Localize that feeling and take deep breaths. It’ll make you feel better,” he’d say. 

In this moment you want to repeat those words. To pull him close and tell him that everything’s going to be fine. That you’re never going to talk to Miguel ever again if it means that things can go back to the way they were. 

“I know, I’m sorry. It’s just you and him —it… it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” 

“Like what?”

Your voice is harsher than you intend it to be. Full of an impatient venom that leaves a sour taste in your mouth. You want to know what he means without all the necessary filler. Already for weeks, you’ve been kept in the dark, longing to learn the truth and every time you get even an inch closer it always feels like you’re thrown three feet back, scrambling to remake progress. 

“Peter, please. For once in your life don’t keep secrets just because you think it’ll keep me safe.”

It feels like you’re begging to no one. As if, instead of a person, there’s this empty vessel who’s staring back at you, lifeless in the eyes and face but still moving to press the screen of their watch. 

“I’ll jump in after you.”

“I know.” 

He says it so quietly you can barely hear it over the whirring of the portal that begins to form, shrouding you in a light that warms your skin as Peter motions you to follow. 

-

Even though he single handedly has one of the most stressful lives in existence, it’s very rare you ever see Peter on edge. No matter the situation, there’s always an aura of calm that surrounds him. In high-stress environments, he’s able to push through the problems with little issue, ignoring the onslaught of doubts you’re sure are still there. 

Because of this, seeing him all tense as you wander through the streets of an unfamiliar city, you find yourself frowning —worrying that maybe you’ve pushed him too far. 

“This isn’t going to be pretty,” he tells you, sighing.

Stopping at a crosswalk, you both look left to right and back again, surveying the snow-covered streets in awe. It’s colder here. A good fifteen or so degrees below what it is back home. Everything in sight is enveloped in a white blanket twelve inches deep. Beneath your feet you can feel the presence of ice crackling against the pavement, making you cautiously step out onto the street when the light inevitably goes green. 

“Where are we, anyway?”

“Earth-1867.”

You meant to ask which city, completely forgetting you’re in another dimension, but reserve asking him, knowing deep down you don’t really need to know. You’ll never be back here, anyways.

“It’s fucking freezing.” 

Thankfully, before stepping into the portal, Pete handed you a jacket and some boots —both of which you nearly declined to take before noticing the look on his face. You figured because the weather was pretty mild back home you wouldn’t have to worry about it here. Then you quickly realized how ignorant that sounded and threw them on without question. 

Now that you’re walking through the streets of some winter wonderland, you’re thankful for once you managed to listen.

“That’s what happens in Canada.” 

“Canada?” 

“Yeah.” 

Suddenly interested, you start to glance around a bit more, taking in all the unfamiliar buildings that line both sides of the streets. As expected, they look pretty similar to the ones back home. Small hole-in-the-wall shops with dark-coloured doors and big windows. Most of the signs are flipped closed, revealing nearly pitch-black interiors that have you squinting to look inside, but there’s also a few that remain open. 

“Wait, where are we even going?” 

“You’ll see.” 

Groaning, you throw your head back in defeat to see the darkened sky. In the corners of your vision, the city lights glow faintly, shadowing the stars while simultaneously showcasing the huge puffs of snow that fall toward your feet. 

Almost immediately, it makes you blink and look back down, noticing a masked spider-woman a couple of feet away. She’s waving at you excitedly with one hand while her other remains occupied by a drink tray full of cups. 

“Hey!” Peter smiles and immediately returns the gesture, his pace quickening to meet her in the middle of the street, both of them going in for a hug. 

“What’d you do get lost on the way or something?” she jokes once you’re near, nudging her elbow with his before handing him the drink tray. When he takes it he shakes his head and rolls his eyes. 

“You and your gifts.”

“What? It’s the way of my people, don’t be a dick about it.” 

Peter raises his free hand in defence before offering you a cup. When you take it you practically melt against the heat, sighing contently as you thank her.

“No problem. Figured you could use a little pick me up after… y’know?”

You look at her confused, moving the cup to your lips to take a sip of arguably the best hot chocolate you’ve ever tasted.

“Pete texted me on the way over,” she explains then. “He didn’t give me details or anything if that’s what you’re worried about. Just said you wanted a little tour of the abandoned Alchemex building we got out on North York.” 

Alchemex.

The liquid inside your throat catches, prompting you to double over and cough, causing panic in both Peter and his friend. Both of them jump to your aid, placing soft hands on either shoulder, watching intently as you clutch your throat, gasping for air, wondering what the hell’s going to happen next. 

It can’t be good. Peter said it’d be rough and although he’s often the type to lie and keep secrets about the betterment of your health and safety, you’re certain this time he’s telling the truth. What lies behind the doors of that Alchemex building will be anything but easy for you to swallow and regardless of wanting to know, you’re still not sure you're ready. 

“You okay?”

You nod slowly, feeling them both sidestep away to give you space. By that point, you can finally breathe again. As you inhale, you can feel the cold air rushing through your lungs, erasing the warmth entirely. It makes you shiver upon impact, your gaze catching the two of them staring at one another.

“I’m fine, sorry.” 

“Right, well, uh, we should probably get going then. Let the tour commence and all that?” 

Both you and Peter nod, causing the spider to clap her hands.

“Alright then, drink up. It’s about a twenty minute swing away.” 

-

Her name is Riley Gaboury. 

While you’re swinging through the air, clutching onto Peter’s back for dear life, she tells you this, then follows up with the same kind of spiel Hobie gave you earlier. The one about how she got bit by a spider and became Toronto’s one and only Spider-Woman. 

As she speaks, you try your best to listen, feeling your ears sting from the chill of the air pelting against your skin. Based on the quickness of her voice you can tell it’s been a while since she’s had any visitors. Her voice feels never-ending, like an overexcited child explaining their favourite TV show.

In any other instance you’d be happy to talk with her —get to know her a bit better— but right now all you can feel is the cold anxiety creeping through your limbs. 

All your extremities have pretty much gone numb, pulsing underneath the surface of near frostbitten skin and it’s becoming too much. More than anything you want to ask if you can stop and walk but knowing the obvious urgency you keep your mouth shut, trying your best to distract yourself as you take a particularly rough turn.

“Sorry,” Peter mumbles under his mask. 

You groan back, barely able to think, let alone speak as he propels both of you forward over a nearby rooftop. 

“We’re almost there, just a couple more blocks,” Riley calls out. 

As you whizz past the traffic below, you can feel your stomach churning with anticipation. Although it’s only been a few hours, you can feel the oncoming disaster of knowing begin to move. Closer and closer it inches the further you swing, reminding you of the potential consequences. Of the inevitable complications that’ll come with knowing why you’re meant to remain in the darkness.

It feels almost too much as Riley points to a tall building lined entirely with windows, prompting both her and Peter to suddenly divert their path, building enough momentum so that they can gain height. 

You almost vomit when you realize how high up you are. When Peter’s hands land firmly against the building’s side, you close your eyes and tuck your head into the crook of his neck, muttering curse word after curse word as he crawls you to the top, laughing once you fall onto the roof in a heap. 

“Oh, my god, land,” you mutter, your body covered almost completely by the snow.

Riley snorts. “Whatever you do don’t look over the edge.”

At this point you wouldn’t dare, knowing how high up you are. Instead, you merely stand, feeling your legs shake as you brush off all the snow and turn to Peter who’s already wandering toward the rooftop entrance. 

“So, uh, what’s the plan?”

“Stay close.”

You nod and wander over, watching him attempt to open the door but to no avail. “Locked?”

He groans and nods, turning towards Riley who’s already wandering over, producing a small metal rectangle with a button on it. “Move,” she says. Then out of nowhere, a large stick grows in her hand, causing you to stare in awe as she takes the end of it and starts to whack the window out.

“Is that a fucking hockey stick?” 

As she pulls the contraption back, she nods her head. “Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah, cool,” you and Peter say in unison, watching her stab out the edges of the broken glass before reaching in to unlock the door. 

After that you make quick work of moving through the building, quietly rushing through various halls and stairways, trying your best not to get too distracted by the pictures that line the walls. Most of them are abstract pieces you’d see in virtually any office, strips of colour layered overtop of each other, but scattered between there are employee pictures too. Faces of people you’ve never met, smiling in lab coats both by themselves and in groups. 

You find yourself lingering on those, glancing down at the plaques that list their names. Jordan Boone. Liz Allen. Paul Phillip-Ravage, etc. 

In the picture in front of you, there’s around a team of twenty all clumped together, smiling and holding each other tight. Due to the wear and tear of the building though, some of the faces have been scribbled out —graffitied over with a black sharpie. At the centre, there’s a pair of faceless people leaning against a giant tube of liquid, both of their hands pressing against the glass so closely you can see their pinkies interlocked. 

“Hey, c’mon!”

As much as you want to defy orders and continue snooping, you follow Peter through a set of double doors and turn toward Riley. “What is this place?”

“It’s uh, hard to explain,” she says, her tone full of discomfort as Peter stops you in front of another set of doors. 

“Mind keeping watch, Ri?” he interrupts. 

Riley nods her head, offering you a blank look before barreling forward, shooting a pair of webs towards the ceiling so that she throws herself out of sight. 

Once she’s gone you swallow hard, remembering why you’re here. Why after all this arguing and travelling and breaking and entering you find yourself standing in the middle of some barely lit hallway with your superhero brother.

You motion to the door. “This is it?”  

“Yup.”

“A bit lacklustre, don’t you think?”

He scoffs and pushes open the door, holding it open as you follow closely behind, suddenly feeling the need to retract your statement because the room before you is anything but mesmerizing. 

Filled to the brim with abandoned equipment, it’s almost as if the team located here just up and left, leaving everything as is. Desks covered in research papers and old monitors line the walls with little disturbance. Test tubes filled with unknown substances are stacked haphazardly throughout the room, taking up cupboards and tables. 

Taking a few steps in, you notice all the small details of a testing lab. Coats hanging off hooks by the door, a kitchenette with a coffee maker and toaster oven, a whiteboard filled with old writing that’s been scrubbed away and replaced with crude drawings. 

It’s as if the whole room’s been frozen in time. 

“Holy shit.” 

At the room’s centre, you see a tube identical to the one in the picture outside. The only difference is that it’s sustainably bigger and empty, the double-layered glass encapsulating nothing but air. 

“What is this?”

“A battery.”

You look at Peter who’s now standing next to you, staring at it with his mask off. 

“For what?”

“Inter-dimensional travel. In this universe it was the first of its kind —a breakthrough in modern physics,” he explains. “Alchemex employees in this department had been working on it for a while when one of their geneticists had a breakthrough.”

You stare at him, mouth half open, waiting for him to continue but he doesn’t. He just stands there, reaching out to touch the glass with a shaky hand that has you breathing heavily and looking around, trying to put two and two together.  

It’s you, right? The geneticist. That’s why he brought you here.

“Wait, Peter, I—“ 

It’s too much, at first. This idea that another version of you could help create something so big. Obviously, every version of yourself is different. There’s no set standard for the level of understanding one has on certain subjects. In another life, you could be anything from a barista to an astronaut and it wouldn’t matter, because every universe is different. Every universe is unique and thriving and while, sure, some of them may overlap with the same sort of details, at their core they’re still completely separate.

“Everything’s connected.” 

Or not. 

“This event —the creation of a device that can ensure the use of inter-dimensional travel– is meant to happen in every universe. It’s canon, which is a term we spider’s use to explain various moments in our lives that have to happen.” 

“Like a prophecy?” 

“Sort of, yeah. Each of us have a set story that’s meant to be followed in some way. The spider bite, ASM-90, the tragic passing of a family member…” He trails off for a moment, looking at you, an air of guilt coating his features. “All of it has to happen for every universe to remain intact.” 

When you go to look back at him, there’s a blooming of warmth that hits the side of your face, spreading throughout your cheeks and nose until it suddenly dissipates and you’re left watching your brother get slammed into the ground. Then suddenly, the room is filled with pained groans and angry grunts, the flashing of limbs struggling against each other making you realize that this was a mistake. That you were never meant to house this information. 

As nothing more than a human, all you were meant to do was stand by and watch as the chapters of Peter’s predicted life unfolded around him. You were meant to turn a blind eye. To pretend that spider people were nothing more than vigilantes and that the secrets your brother withheld were for your own good. 

You know now, watching him fight against Miguel’s heavy hands, that he was right about all of this. And that this is your fault. That you’re the reason the ground beneath him is breaking apart and there’s blood spurting from his mouth and nose. 

“Miguel, stop!” 

You scream louder than you ever thought possible as you rush to your brother’s aid, witnessing the onslaught of scratches and punches he receives. As you get closer, you see no signs of Miguel stopping so you stupidly reach out to grab his arm, earning yourself an elbow to the temple that you barely register through the adrenaline. 

“I thought I told you not to tell her,” Miguel says through clenched teeth, ignoring your hands and how they claw at his back through his suit. 

“Says you, asshole!” 

You don’t expect Peter to reply, so when you hear your voice you stop for a moment, jumping at the presence of hands that quickly pull you away. 

“Sorry, uh, just… stand here for a second,” Riley says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, making you thankful because as much as you’d like to help you can’t do anything. You’re not a superhero nor do you have a retractable hockey stick that you can use to smash Miguel in the back of the head. 

“You know, if we were on the rink you’d make the perfect goon,” she says, doing just that; using enough force to get him to stumble backwards.

“What does that even mean?” Scrambling to stand back up, Miguel groans and lunges for her, giving you enough time to rush over to Peter; he's heavily breathing, dripping in blood with his eyes closed. 

Without even thinking you go in for a hug, hearing him moan in pain, prompting you to pull away and apologize. 

“God, your boyfriend sucks,” he mumbles then, cringing as he pulls himself slowly out of the rubble before wiping the blood off his face. 

If you were in any other situation you would have punched him for saying that. But considering he looks like he’s already knocking on death’s door you settle for an eye roll that stops midway, noticing the ongoing fight. 

Both of them are up in the air, swinging back and forth to meet in the middle. Miguel reaches out to claw Riley’s webs but misses as she leaps off her tether and knocks him in the face again, sending him toward the floor. 

“Goal!”

Peter, despite the shape he’s in, lets out a laugh and stands up, moving to stretch his limbs before shooting a web into Miguel’s chest. When it attaches directly at the centre of his solar plexus, Peter shoots another web towards the roof and begins swinging in circles, using the movement to begin wrapping Miguel in layers and layers of webs. 

Following suit, Riley does the same thing, both of them floating around like a carousel until Miguel’s struggling against his newfound prison, loudly cussing them out in Spanish. 

It’s quite the sight, seeing his seething form so suppressed. His nostrils flare out in heavy puffs as he stares at the three of you; his eyes narrowed eyes darting around until they land on you. Ever so quietly he says your name then, trying to ground himself through the rage that refuses to go away.

A part of you wants to move in closer —to tell him that everything is going to be okay— but deep down you know that isn’t true. Miguel came here with the intention of keeping this from you and having come this far you’ll be damned if you let that happen. No matter how wrong you know it is. 

“Please, if you’d just listen.” 

The way his mask fades away when he looks at you tells you he already knows this. As the moments pass, his expression turns from angry to anxious, his brows softening under the dim lights, casting shadows over his skin that make you frown and turn to Peter. 

“Can you give us a sec?” 

He’s hesitant at first but ultimately gives in, telling you that he and Riley will be outside before he plants a soft kiss to your injured temple and leaves. 

“I'm sorry, I just—“

 You barely give him enough time to explain before you're wrapping yourself around him. Your arms, tightly wound around his neck shake with a fear you’ve never known as you borrow your face into the crook of his neck, breathing so hard you think you might pass out. 

“I hate you,” you lie, moving to press your nose into his throat.

“I know.” 

You place the softest kiss on his Adam’s apple, feeling it vibrate beneath your lips. “I hate everything you stand for. I hate your secrets and your rules and your stupid society.”

“I know.” 

Your forehead is firmly pressed against his chin as he says this, the breath of his voice bouncing off your skin in hot puffs that are swiftly replaced by his lips. Gently, he then places kiss after kiss across the expanse of your skin, ignoring the fact that you hate him. Ignoring the fact that he’s completely unworthy of everything that you’re offering him at this moment. Ignoring the way you glare at the decal of his suit with such an unbound rage you want to rip it apart. 

“I don’t understand how talking about the canon breaks the canon.”

His lips freeze against your face before he pulls away with a groan, realizing that you know. “It doesn’t.” 

“So—“

 “The multiversal timeline is delicate.”

“Yeah, I’m aware,” you snap, moving away to look him in the eye. 

“Anything that deviates from it constitutes as a direct violation of the canon,” he explains, glancing down to watch you scrunch up your face in annoyance. “You know if I actually put in the effort I could break out of here and easily kick your ass?”

“Says the man who lost to a hockey stick.” Fighting the urge to laugh, you press your forehead against his chest, feeling the air enter and exit his lungs. 

“It’s not a hockey stick. It’s a fucking titanium bar shaped to look like one.”

“Still.” 

The silence that falls over you after that is hard to navigate. You want to talk to him —to ask him more questions so that all of this can be over, but obviously, you know that’s not how it works. One complicated conversation doesn’t lead to an end. It just leads to more complicated conversations. That’s how life works, no matter what universe you’re in, and it sucks. 

And it hurts, realizing that no matter how this plays out that Miguel and you can never happen. Sure, he’s never explicitly said it. The words we could never be have never been said or heard between either of you, but you know that’s how this ends. He tells you, he leaves. He doesn’t tell you, he still leaves. 

It’s not fair.

“How come this can’t work?” 

The question flies out of your mouth before you can even begin to suppress it, causing Miguel to widen his eyes and turn away, almost embarrassed. 

“How come you get to go on living life knowing everything that’s ever happened between us in every single universe until the end of time while I have to sit here, pretending to know nothing until I forget?”

When he doesn’t say anything, you pull away, glaring at his chest and hands and face as you stand up. “Why does me knowing what we could’ve had mess with the canon? Huh? What part do I play? Is it because of that stupid battery? Is it because I’m the cause of this that you won’t talk to me?”

He’s staring at the floor now, completely avoiding your eyes and mouth and hands as they continue to ask all the questions he’s never wanted to answer. 

“Did I do something to upset you? Did I fuck up your life or something because, Miguel, I don’t fucking know until you tell me!”

You’re crying now. The tears you’ve been holding on to since he pushed you through that portal are falling. Crashing onto the floor in small puddles that hit your knees when you inevitably drop back down. Throughout your frame there’s a rush of pain as you hit the ground and lean forward, pressing your elbows against the space in front of you as you curl into a ball, wishing that he’d say something. 

When he doesn’t, you cry more, your body breaking under the pressure of understanding that this is all you’ll get.

It’s obvious then that Miguel isn’t a good man. He doesn’t care for you in the way you deserve. He just wants you. Or more so, this idea of you that he’s formed at the back of his head. To him, you’re nothing more than a temptation he’s created over time. A familiar body surrounding a completely different soul that’ll he always long for.

As you realize this you can hear ripping followed shuffles that grow closer until they’re wrapped around you, pulling you into a chest you wish to crawl inside for all eternity. 

“I’ll tell you, okay? I’ll tell you everything, just… please don’t cry. Please.” 

-

TAGGING:@fandxmslxt69 @buckysblondie @leucoratia @avatricu @rexxesgirl @hoe4fiction @erissco @dil3mma @ashjbu @mfrnchsk @sanjisluvbot @deputy-videogamer @arloballs @fictional-character-whore @busy-buzzing @twincesskorisoka @iyyom @beantokki (if you'd like to be added fill out this form, also if you've filled out this form and don't see your name check your settings because it won't let me tag you!)

[namorswifeyyy]

QUICK A/N: This chapter is meant to be short so I promise I didn't try to rush this. Part 2 will definitely be longer

He's suddenly been on my mind so don't ask 🫣 I don't see that many fics about him anyway so

WORTH THE RISK

Blue Jones x Reader

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

Summary: You been in a secret relationship with Blue and every moment spent with each other is precious time. This time, you come to him with one little problem..

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

Tags/Warnings: Established secret relationship, mild angst, some NSFW but no sex is involved, just Blue being a naughty naughty man | 18+ EXPLICIT

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

You been watching him perform on stage. His charismatic energy, his talent, and just how captivating Mr. Blue Jones is. For a while now, you two have had quite the connection. But no one can know. Why? Think about it, the risk of losing your career. The risk of your friends knowing. Who knows what could happen?

There's also so much mystery to this man. You often wonder what goes on in his head. Wondering what his intentions may be. If this relationship is even worth the risk.

But no matter what, Blue is all you think about. And you don't even know why. What is it about him that is so important to you? Who even knows? You feel as if this isn't gonna last forever.

But no matter, you have more important things to worry about. Overthinking isn't one of them.

Looking at your mirror reflection, hearing the muffled music blaring outside the dressing room. Sighing deeply, you check everything to see if you're ready to go out there. Then you hear a knock. "May I come in?" A voice says from the other side of the door, a familiar one at that.

Could it be Blue? "Yeah, sure!" You respond, loudly enough. The door opens and you see Blue walk in. You knew it. "Hey. I just wanted to come in and check on you. Everything okay, darlin'?" He asks, coming over towards you. You nod yes in response.

Looking down at the floor, then looking back at your reflection. The truth is, you weren't really feeling your best. But you don't want to let him know that.

"You sure, love? I can tell by the look on your face that something's wrong. You know you can tell me anything." Blue said. He puts his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing it. Looking at the mirror reflection with you, admiring how beautiful he knows you are. But also, being worried about how you're feeling.

"I promise Blue, I'm fine. I was just lost in thought." You respond, voice sounding subtly shaky. Did that come off as not sounding fine?

Blue sighs. "There's no need to hide from me. Please, tell me what's wrong."

You push his hand off your shoulder and walk away from the mirror. "I'm worried about us. Should we even be doing this? Why do we have to keep hiding? I don't know if this little secret of ours is gonna stay as a secret. I don't even know if you even actually love me." Tears well up in your eyes. You turn around to face him.

"I'm just worried, Blue. I'm sorry." Your voice starts to break, stifling your crying. Now he knows.

"Now what makes you think that? You don't think that I love you?" He walks over to you and caresses your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb. "You mean everything to me. I'm sorry if I haven't been there enough for you. I always want to make time for you. I love you. Very much, darling."

"You promise you don't have any bad intentions with me?" You ask.

"Only nothing but good. I wouldn't even dare try to hurt you. But I have to ask, do you trust me?" Blue asks in return.

You take a breath, calming down your crying. His dark brown eyes, looking at yours reassuringly. You want to trust Blue, you really do. You don't want to let your guard down but at the same time, he done nothing to break your trust. At least not that you're aware of.

If he has trust in you, then it would only be fair if you return that trust in him. "Yes, Blue. I trust you. I promise to keep my trust in you as you keep your trust in me."

A tender smile forms on Blue's face. "That's my girl." He praises. He plants a short and sweet kiss on your lips. You can't help but feel so in love with him. You don't know how he does it but he got such an effect on you.

"I'm hoping one day we don't have to keep this all a secret." You say after he pulls away.

"I hope so too. But I don't mind it. Because that means I can have you all to myself." He puts his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer to him.

"No need to cry, okay? I'm here." Blue whispers. You nod your head yes, glancing down then back into his eyes. His presence, his touch, and words felt reassuring.

You sniffle, wiping away the last few tears from your eyes. You take a deep breath, calming down. Something about Blue just keeps you grounded. Is it his reassuring words? His love and devotion to you? Regardless of what it may be, he is making you feel at peace.

But then, you start to notice more things about Blue. His looks was one of the many things that made you fall for him. Aside from his suave nature, his talent, his charisma, and many other things. You admire how handsome he is.

Not like you haven't before, you always have. But this time, it's more than ever.

Looking into his eyes, noticing the seductive look he often has in them. Without even trying. Without even doing anything.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, having some naughty thoughts about him. How are you willing to communicate that? You thought "I'll show him how much I want him right now."

You then start to look at his lips. Suddenly craving him. Without even saying anything, you go in for a kiss, this time more longer and more passionate. You feel Blue's hands roaming across your body. Tongues touching each other. Having him gently tug your bottom lip with his teeth.

"You're mine. And only mine, you hear?" Blue says in between kisses.

"I want you, Blue. Take me." You tell him, barely catching your breath. "I need you, so bad."

He takes notice of how needy you became for him. Seeing you in such a state. He couldn't help but be so turned on. "Take off your top." Blue commands.

You follow his order and you take it off. You toss your top to the side, to be surprised by the feeling of his lips on your neck. Kisses turning into soft bites. Moving closer down to your collar bone down to your breasts.

Sucking onto your skin, making you whimper at his touch. But you want more. You want him to ruin you.

You feel Blue's fingers intertwine with the back clip of your bra, seemingly trying to take it off. Then you hear it unclip. He pulls the straps down and drops your bra to the floor. Your bare chest, now exposed to him.

Blue gently squeezes your soft breasts, leaving hickeys on your neck. You let out a moan as he just completely ravishes you. Fingers in between your hard nipples. Making you whimper more and more underneath him.

"Fuck...Blue. Keep going." You want more. You can't help but become such a needy mess for him. You become his naughty girl, and only his.

You take notice of hard bulge in his pants. Feeling it so close to you. How bad you want it inside your wet, aching pussy. How badly he just turns you on.

Blue even noticed how wet you're becoming. He puts his hand under your skirt, touching the wet spot on your panties. Rubbing your clit through the fabric with his thumb. You gasp at the sudden touch down there.

Slow, circular motions against your throbbing clit. Your body is just begging to feel him inside you. "Already so wet, aren't you?" Blue asks, making eye contact with you. You're trying so hard not to squirm. He's just so good with his hands.

Then you both hear a knock on the door. "Shit!! I gotta go! Get dressed, now." Blue pulls away from you, picking back up your bra and your top from the floor.

You hurriedly get clothed, watching Blue exit the room. Wondering who knocked. Hopefully soon you and him can continue where you left off.

To be continued...

Replies and reblogs are very much appreciated!! Part 2 will be coming soon