#I wrote this in one sitting instead of doing my paper so I’m sorry if it’s really bad 😂

[littlesoka7567]

I wanna see Hunter just going absolutely feral.

Bad batch spoilers, rated M

Imagine he gets to the planet Omega and Crosshair are on. He manages to get into the base somehow, and he doesn’t even wait for Echo and Wrecker. He doesn’t use the stun feature. The entire landing pad is gone by the time the other two join him.

He’s pushing on, through hallways. He shoots down storm troopers as he goes, paying attention to which ones are just troopers and which ones look like higher ups.

“Um, Hunter?” Echo asks, his blaster raised but still cold from disuse.

Hunter finally finds an officer. Grabs him by the throat, slams him into the wall. “Where’s Hemlock?” He growls, teeth bared.

Echo and Wrecker pause behind him, blasters raised at the ready for any back up this officer may call.

“I don’t know,” the officer chokes, hands uselessly clawing at Hunter’s arms. “But if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.”

“I believe you,” Hunter spits, and the blast in the officer’s stomach forces the man limp.

“Hunter?” Wrecker asks, eyes looking on worriedly.

Hunter doesn’t answer. He goes through a door. Another. Dead bodies pile up, never even had a chance to shoot back. Hunter doesn’t pause, doesn’t stop moving. He shoots as he goes.

Through another door. Down a flight of stairs. Another officer. He shoots everyone else, aims his blaster at the officer’s face. “Hemlock,” is all he says.

“I know where he is!” The officer says, hands raised in surrender. “I can take you to him!”

“Where is he?” Hunter growls.

“Floor -70. He’ll have heard the alarms by now. He’ll be in his bunker.”

Hunter shoves the man into Wrecker’s chest, who grabs him by the scruff of the neck and starts walking him to follow Hunter.

Elevators. Hunter fucking hates elevators. They’re slow, they force him to stand still. The officer won’t stop whimpering, face forced to look at the floor.

“Hunter,” Echo tries again.

Hunter works his jaw. Tilts his head just slightly to show he’s listening.

“What’s the plan?”

Hunter rolls his jaw again, looking back at the elevator doors. “Find Hemlock. Make him take us to Omega. Get out.”

“Are there any…in between steps?”

Hunter doesn’t answer. The door opens. He shoots down everyone running at him. Echo stuns the ones running away. Wrecker punches a few people in white coats standing in doorways.

“Take a left up here,” their captive whimpers out, refusing to look at the fallen teammates. “It’s a long hallway. His bunker will be at the very end.”

Hunter does. It’s only lab coats now. Hunter shoots them down, uncaring.

They reach the door, and Hunter kicks it in easily. It’s not a bunker. It’s an office. Hemlock isn’t there. He turns to their captive, fury turning his vision red.

“He’s supposed to be here!” The man cries, wincing as Wrecker’s hold tightens on his neck. “He said he would be here if there was ever an invasion.”

Hunter walks over to him, grabbing his chin. Wrecker lets go. The man whimpers, the words to beg for his life dying on his tongue. “I believe you,” Hunter says. For a second, a flicker of hope lights up the man’s eyes. But then those eyes go dull as Hunter quickly snaps his neck.

“Hunter!” Echo hisses, disapproval painting his voice.

Hunter ignores him. He pushes past them both, forcing his way back down the long corridor. He takes a right where he before took a left.

“Clones!” Wrecker yells, looking at the cells upon cells of locked up clones.

“I’ll let them out,” Echo says, something raw in his voice. “This must be where they’re taking the decommissioned clones. Rex was telling me about a mission to save-“

Hunter holds up a hand, indicating silence. Echo’s voice falters, stops.

Hunter listens. The prisoners are yelling, begging for release. Distractions. “Silence!” Hunter yells, after shooting three rounds into the ceiling.

Quiet. Good. He closes his eyes, focusing. “Wrecker, with me. Echo-go ahead.”

He feels more than sees Echo nod his affirmative, and he sets to work on unlocking the doors.

Hunter leads Wrecker down the hall. Left. Right. Another right. Through a door. Another left. Pauses, has to shoot a guard. Through a door.

Hunter raises the gun, aiming it at the woman in a white coat. “She looks important,” Wrecker says softly.

“My name is Emerie Karr,” she stutters out. “I’m the lead scientist.”

“And I care because?” Hunter growls, stepping forward and getting the blaster closer to her chest.

“I’m the one working on Omega and Crosshair.”

Hunter’s blood goes cold. He stops breathing. His hand shakes. “Where. Is. She?” He spits through gritted teeth.

“This way,” she says, but doesn’t indicate or move. She only stares at the blaster.

“Move!” Hunter yells, frightening her. She starts to back up, but realizes that’s not fast enough quickly. More rooms. Moor hallways. More doors. It takes no time at all and an eternity.

“She’s in this room,” Emerie says softly. “Hemlock is in there.”

“Open. The. Door.”

Wrecker moves closer, blaster trained on her. “I’ve got her, Hunter. You check it out.”

Hunter can barely hear over the blood pounding in his ears. The door opens. His blaster aims inward, no target yet. He looks around, his own breathing deafening him.

“Hunter!”

He almost breaks.

The high pitched voice is scared. Hunter momentarily worries he’s covered in blood. If he’s scaring her. But no; it’s not him. It’s Hemlock.

“Take one more step and I shoot her,” Hemlock’s low, soft voice lilts. As if he’s the one in control.

Hunter aims his blaster, teeth bared in aggression. “I won’t ask you twice,” Hunter spits.

Hemlock presses the gun more firmly into Omega’s temple, and the girl cries out in pain or fear. “You aren’t the one making demands here, Hunter.” His voice annoys Hunter, and the growl which rips through his throat is involuntary.

Hunter’s entire body is shaking with the desire to rip Hemlock apart. “Omega is too close,” Emerie whispers unhelpfully.

“Put the gun down, Hunter. It’s over. Put the gun down and let my scientist in the room. My guards will be here shortly.”

Hunter grins, too much teeth to be anything other than threatening. Any guards will be meeting the fury of countless decommissioned clones right about now.

Hemlock seems undeterred. “I’m only keeping her alive to control Nala Se. I don’t care if she lives or dies. Now that Nala Se has seen her, I can convince her Omega is safe and held in a cell. You’re the one who wants her alive.”

Hunter laughs, and it sounds so unlike anything he’s ever made before. “If you kill her, I will tear you apart, piece by piece, until you beg for mercy that won’t come.”

Hemlock has the sense to at least hesitate now. He looks between Hunter and Wrecker, whose gun is still aimed at Emerie.

Omega cries softly, not looking at Hunter anymore. “I’m scared,” she whispers.

Hunter fights back the urge to growl again. He works his jaw instead, eyes flicking from her to Hemlock. He sees movement behind the pair as he does; it takes everything inside of him to not focus on the body slowly inching towards them.

“You hear that?” Hemlock asks, voice somehow still calm and soft. Taunting. Hunter bares his teeth in rage, allowing Hemlock to think he took the bait. “She’s scared. Do you think she’s scared of me, or of you?”

Wrecker shifts behind him, and Hunter can practically see the excitement he’s trying to conceal. Hunter ignores them both. “Omega,” Hunter pleads, lowering his gun. “I’d never hurt you,” he promises.

Omega looks up, eyes full of tears. “Hunter,” she whines.

Hemlock pretends to coo, mockingly. “Hunter,” he copies, but a wicked smile distorts his face into something inhuman. Emerie’s breath catches as she notices, but Wrecker presses the blaster more firmly into the back of her neck. “Go ahead and put the gun down, Hunter. I win.”

Hunter holds his gun tighter, still lowered to point at the floor. He grits his teeth, pretending to fight himself on what to do. “It’s okay, Omega,” Hunter says softly. “Just look at me.”

Omega stares into Hunter’s eyes, her own full of tears. “I want to go home,” she says.

Hunter takes one hand off the gun, pretending to raise it in surrender. “I’m here, Omega. I’m here.”

Hemlock laughs in victory, aiming the gun instead at Hunter. Stupid, arrogant mistake. “That’s right. Put that gun down. Nice and slow.”

The blow is sudden, and hard. Hemlock loses consciousness immediately, and Omega sprints for Hunter’s arms. Hunter catches her easily, arms wrapping around her and holding her as tightly as he can.

“You lose,” Crosshair spits, swaying on his feet. He leans heavily on the bench Hemlock is now slouched over.

Wrecker hits Emerie over the back of the head with the handle of his blaster, and is pushing past Hunter and Omega before her body hits the floor. He throws Crosshair’s arm over his shoulder, using one arm to help support his weight. “I knew you were still in there somewhere,” Wrecker says lowly.

Hunter pets Omega’s hair, holding her to his chest. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m here now.”

“Hunter,” Omega cries, tiny fists clenching at his hair to keep him close.

“Hunter,” Echo calls from behind them. “Rex is on his way to get the decommissioned clones. Or…” his voice turns sad for a moment. “The ones who are left. There were a lot of guards here.”

Hunter raises himself from his kneeling position, bringing Omega with him. Her legs wrap around his waist, and he half rests her on his hip. “Good. Help Crosshair. Wrecker, grab Hemlock.” All three of his brothers hesitate, questions on the tip of their tongues. “Now,” Hunter growls.

Wrecker gently passes Crosshair to Echo, and then throws Hemlock over his shoulder. Omega buries her face in Hunter’s neck, quiet sobs breaking his heart.

They make their way to the elevator, and Hunter glares at the escapees so they won’t join them. There isn’t much room left anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Crosshair says after several minutes of silence.

Hunter looks to him, and for the first time since Ord Mantell, his face softens. He raises the hand not holding Omega to cup his shoulder, squeezing. He doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t need to. The sigh of relief Crosshair tries to hide is indicative of message received.

There’s a lot of questions which will be asked later. Later. Once they’re free from this hell planet. Once Omega is safe on their ship. Once he has time.

[lovebugism]

King Steve being a dick to shy!reader until he found out she was the one who left a note in his locker and not nancy 🥰

he's less of a dick and more of a dumbass in this but i hope you like it :D — when steve thinks nancy's left a note in his locker, he starts pulling away from you (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort ish but mostly fluff, 0.8k)

You’re not surprised to find Steve in the old chemistry classroom, half-abandoned in the west wing of the school — the two of you often seek sanctuary there, away from the vultures of Hawkins High. No, what’s strange is the note he holds between his hands. And the way he tries to hide it when he sees you.

He shoves the paper into the back pocket of his jeans and rises from the desk he sits on. It screeches and slides slightly back in his fumbling state. He tries to hide his panic with a lopsided grin but wears all the alarm in his eyes.

“Hey, babe…” he wavers.

The door clicks shut behind you. Instead of greeting him with a kiss and a warm embrace, you cross your arms over your chest and cock your hip gently to the side. The softness he’s grown so used to has suddenly hardened. 

“What are you doing?” you wonder plainly.

He stammers. “Uh… Skipping calculus?”

“No, I mean, why are you avoiding me?”

“Avoiding you?” Steve scoffs, forcing out a breathy laugh. He stumbles over himself with words and gestures wildly with his hands. “Why would I— I have no reason to— I’m not avoiding you, okay? That’s crazy.”

His deflecting isn’t reassuring. 

A weird, uncomfy feeling pangs in your chest.

“You’ve been acting weird for three days, Steve. I have to practically hunt you down to find you— and when I do, you act like you don’t even wanna talk to me.”

The pained look scrunching your features makes his stomach ache. He averts his gaze and shrugs. “That’s not true, you know that—”

“You won’t even look at me now,” you murmur, eyes glassy and stinging with distant tears. His gaze darts back up to meet yours again. You shrink inside yourself and shift your weight on your feet. “Do you… Do you wanna break up with me or something? Is that it?”

Steve’s face swirls with confusion, pained and panicked. “What? No!” he exclaims, voice ringing across the quiet lab. “Of course I don’t! Why would you— Why would you even say that?”

“Then what happened?” you agonize. “What’d I do?”

He rushes across the room and gathers your worrying form in his palms, fingers wide and warm on the outsides of your elbows. He ducks his head down so he’s more level with your tinier frame. His features furrow with anguish. “Nothing! You didn’t do anything, okay? I swear. It’s just this— It’s this stupid fucking note.”

Your brows pinch. “What?”

He drops his hand and reaches for the neglected paper in his pocket. The thing is folded four different times and slightly crumpled with how much he’s handled it. He waves it wildly in his hand. “Nancy left me this in my locker a couple days ago, and it just totally freaked me out, you know? I… I don’t know.”

He passes it off to you like he’s been dying to get rid of it.

You unfold the note. The sound of rumpling paper is much louder in the quiet. Steve watches you read it with a pained look on his face — doe eyes flitting across the familiar words and more familiar handwriting. 

Familiar ‘cause you wrote it.

It takes everything in you to bite back the smile pulling at your lips.

“Oh…” you hum instead.

“I didn’t meet her!” Steve blurts. “I swear, I just… I didn’t know how to tell you about it ‘cause I didn’t wanna upset you, you know? And I just kept freaking myself out, and I’m… I’m sorry.” The words catch in his closing throat. He swallows hard and takes a breath. “I don’t like Nancy anymore, okay? I like you. I love you.”

“So you didn’t… You didn’t meet her there?” you wonder aloud despite knowing the answer, waving the paper in your hand. Meet me in the bathroom, it reads, sloppier than your usual cursive because you wrote it against his locker.

“No!”

“Okay. I believe you,” you nod, smiling when he drops his chin to his chest and sighs in relief. “…Wanna know how I know?”

He glances up at you then, peeking at you beneath his lashes. His honey eyes sparkle in a silent answer.

“‘Cause I left you the note,” you confess, scrunching the bridge of your nose. “And I waited for you for half an hour.”

Steve gapes, equal parts confused and embarrassed. “…Oh.”

“Oh,” you parrot with a quiet laugh.

He stammers. “I’m— I— We just… Me and Nancy used to meet there all the time during free period. I guess I just… I thought that—”

“That she came crawling back?” you finish with a teasing glint in your eyes. “Because no one can resist King Steve?”

He meets your mischievous look with a shier smile. “It’s not that,” he mutters.

“I know,” you promise with a gentle sigh. “I’m just teasing.”

You lean further into him, both of you less anxious now than a minute or more ago. Your palms smooth over his chest while his arms curl around your back. “I feel like a total idiot,” he admits with a sheepish chuckle.

“‘Cause you are one,” you quip, sparkling with all the adoration you have for him. “And I love you.”

[world-of-aus]

Pairing: Pornstar!Bucky x Pornstar!Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI (Porn with a substantial amount of plot fingering, P in V, pet names, bucky barnes.)

Author's Note: Installment 4 here we go! So sorry for the delay but writing should be coming more close as I enjoy my spring break! Hope you all enjoy and happy readings Buns!

Tony Stark was always looking for the next best thing to boosts his websites rating. 

“Any of the scenes catching your eye?” 

Bucky looked up from the script titles, eyes meeting his boss, a shake to his head. 

‘Step-sister helps me relax’ 

‘Horny sitter cums clean’ 

‘Caught stepbrother smelling my underwear’ 

Bucky grimaces at that one, “Jesus stark, who the hell wrote these titles?” he says as he slides the page back at his boss. 

Tony laughs as he picks up the paper he laid out for Bucky minutes prior to scan them again himself. His grimace mirrored his stars, he's tossing the page back down on the desk, “they were sent to me by the scripting company,” he answers with a heavy breath, “apparently this is what the people want, this is the sex that’s selling.” 

Bucky’s looking down at the page again, reading through the titles, “stark hubs dabbled in these categories before, but shouldn’t we be bringing something new, something we haven’t filmed before instead of just slapping on a raunchy title to one of our viewers favorites?” 

Tony tilts his head, “that would be ideal, yes – but this is what is selling right now, this is what the viewers want.”  

The brunette shakes his head rubbing at his stubble, “Do you have the list of costars for me this week?” 

Tony goes to answer his question but a knock stops him, both their eyes going to the door. Pepper pops her head in with a warm smile a paper in her hand, “got the list of girls that are available for this week.” She says letting herself in, you following in right after her a warm smile and greeting on your lips, Bucky returns the sentiment. 

“Wonderful,” Tony grins grabbing the page from his wife, looking it over before sliding it to him, “got that list for you right here Barnes.” Bucky gives his boss an unamused look, grabbing the page to scan the names, his eyes finding your name right away looking over your open days. 

“Y/n sit,” Tony offers the seat next to Bucky, “maybe you and Pepper can help us here.” Bucky continues to scan the list of names and days available while Tony explains what they had gone over before you and Pepper had come in. 

Bucky’s placing the list down just as you’re picking up the list of titles, Tony laughs at the grimace that kisses your features, “this came from the scripting company? You question passing the page to Pepper, “are they running out of titles?”  

Peppers reaction is similar to yours, “this is what’s  selling?” Tony nods leaning back in his chair, “unfortunately it is, it’s all the hype right now.” 

“Getting caught smelling your stepsisters underwear though? I mean Im not kink shaming but that cant be that hot.” 

Bucky chuckles next to you, “My thoughts exactly, the only way that title is selling is if the sex that comes after.” 

You nod turning to Pepper, “I guess I’ll do solos and Cams this week, work on my views.” Your boss nods jotting it down already, Bucky turns to your brows furrowed, but Tony asks the question burning his tongue, “not feeling up to working with the guys this week kid, the soldier not do his job last week?” 

You laugh, “the soldier did his job and then some -” 

“So what’s the problem then?” stark jumps in. 

“Aside from the bad titles,” you say pointing to the paper, “m’not really comfortable with the list of costars left to choose from, I’d rather get myself off.” 

“I think I get you off just fine y/n.” it’s out of Buckys mouth before he can stop it. You turn to catch his gaze, “I could take any of those titles and have you coming within the first thirty minutes.” 

Your tongue runs along your cheek, “I know you can, but I’m not trying to step on any toes.” 

The brunettes brows furrow, head tilted in question, “step on toes?” Tony questions drawing your attention away from Bucky. You nod, you hadn’t wanted to bring this up, but from the look on the broad-shouldered brunette sitting next to you, he deserved to know. “Carter approached me in the lockers this morning, said she had Bucky the whole week.” You leave out the part where she said Bucky only filmed with you for the views and now that your ratings were high enough his job of filming with you was done. “She had overheard me and Wanda talking about our plans for this week, I mentioned wanting to work with Bucky, that’s when she approached me to tell me she had you for the week.” 

He licks over his lip, jaw ticking, “So its not that I don’t want to work with you, and have you fuck me silly to one of those raunchy titles,” you say drawing a low whistle from Tony,  but you wanted to make your intentions of working with him still known. “But I assumed you were booked for the week with the way Carter approached me this morning – I’m not trying to make enemies of the girls.” 

“Listen kid,” Tony speaks up drawing your attention, “schedules have to go through me for final approval, Carter can say she has Bucky booked for the week but if it’s not approved by me it ain’t happening, so if you wanna work with him add it to your schedule and I’ll give the final approval, and given the ratings the two of you have been getting it’ll be the first approved.” 

“Give me Friday,” you say gaze finding Bucky’s, “I’d like to start my weekend off with a bang, won’t be a problem – right soldier.” 

Bucky runs his devious tongue over his lower lip, “not a problem at all, I’ll give you something to hold you over till next week.” 

Tony claps his hand, grin on his features, “you sure you just want Friday kid?” Bucky watches you nod your head, “yeah, I really wanna do some solos with some new pieces I purchased last week.” The man raises a brow, “pieces we might get a peek of Friday?” 

“I have the perfect piece.” 

Tony grins, “well its settled you’ll do solos Monday through Thursday film with the soldier Friday.” 

“Thank you Tony.” 

“No problem kid,” he replies watching you and his wife stand the two of you making your exit. He watches you wave at Bucky promising to see him Friday it’s only after the doors closed behind the two of them that Tony turns to his star. “Something tells me you’ll see her before Friday.” 

Bucky shakes his head with a chuckle, “unless she accepts an invitation to join us at the bar when we go during the week I won’t see her till Friday.” 

“Speaking of Friday,” Tony turns the discussion, “how would you feel filming something new.” 

Bucky looks at his boss in question, “you mean something not on the list?” Tony nods, “mobile recorded videos have been a hit lately on other sites, I’m thinking we could dip our toes, try a new category here at stark hub.” 

“What did you have in mind?” the brunette questions. 

“So where do you want me?” 

The kitchen. 

The living room. 

Shower. 

Bucky wanted to take you apart on every inch of his apartment, and the longer he stood here watching you in that set the longer he had time to think maybe going along with starks idea hadn’t been his best. Yes, it had been Starks bright idea to have Bucky film an ‘amateur’ scene with y/n where he had her in his bed to see what the viewers might think about it, but it had been Bucky who offered his actual bed, that probably wasn’t the smartest thought he’s had, amongst all the filthiest. 

“B,’ you laugh softly, “if you want, we can get a set instead, maybe just haul your sheets with us so its mor natural - this is your space I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, I’m sure Tony will understand and can set us up.” Your words seem to bring him out of his reverie, his gaze finding yours, “sweetheart,” he chuckles licking over his lower lip, “I am anything but uncomfortable right now, if anything I’m holding myself back from taking you on every surface of my space I want you everywhere.” 

A grin pulls at your lips, “well no one's here to tell us what to do, so why don’t you?” 

The growl ripping from his chest is your only warning as he closes the distance between the two of you, hands going around you as he grips at your under thighs hoisting you in his arms. 

You let out a surprised laugh, your arms hooking around his neck though it’s short-lived as he drops you on his bed, his body covering yours, lips a breath away. “Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me soldier?” 

Bucky consumes your laugh with a press of his lips to yours, and a roll.of his hips that has you moaning into his mouth. 

“You feel how happy you’ve made me?” 

You arch up into the press of his hips as you chase his lips, “put it in – please.” 

He groans into your parted lips; stark was really testing his patience with this scene he offered him. “I plan on it, but right now I need you to be a good girl and get yourself real comfortable in my sheets, ass out for me to play with, you think you can do that for me?” 

You’re nodding your head in answer but it’s the soldiers’ time to play. He grips your jaw, “words Eden, you can’t be that cock drunk yet.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He grins planting a kiss on your waiting lips, “good girl, get up there.” You do as he says sliding up the bed, you don’t get far before he stops you with a hand on your hip. “Oh, and Eden keep being a good girl for me and you’ll really be staying the night tonight.” 

His words have your heart racing in your chest, teeth biting back the grin that threatens to break your lips. You're thankful for the pillow and sheets that hide the warmth filling your cheeks, though it does little to quell the butterflies erupting in your stomach. Everything smells like him; you want to drown in it. 

You situate yourself in his sheets curled onto your side, leg hiked high in the sheets leaving your bottom pushed out for him. You burrow yourself into his pillow eyes shutting as if you were really asleep, as if he had really let Eden Ivy stay the night.  

The room is quiet, darker now as he shuts off the light, you can feel him shuffle around his room, but don’t know where he is till you feel the dip of his bed behind you. Behind your closed lids you can see the faint light of the flash from his phone's camera. A true ‘amateur’ film touch. 

His touch comes shortly after and you can’t help the quiet ‘sleepy’ moan that builds in your chest, he shushes you softly, as his hand dancing over the skin of your exposed thigh. His hands feel you up groping you through the flimsy red fabric of your set. It doesn’t conceal the skin beneath it, the set so sheer he can see your the slick gathering between your thighs. 

He cups your pussy drawing another murmured moan from your lips, you shift in your ‘sleep’ and he stills. When you settle again he pulls the ‘wet’ fabric to the side giving the camera a picturesque view of your “petty wet pussy”. A shiver rolls itself down your spine when he slips a digit into your wet awaiting heat, it takes all of you not to ‘wake-up’, you moan instead. He fucks you with the lone digit, pulling it out just enough to stick another alongside the first.  

“So wet Eden, you dirty girl, wonder what you’re dreaming of.” 

You push back into his hand letting your moans build as he fucks his fingers into you, he doesn't let up in the build of your pleasure, sliding a third finger in to stretch you out for his cock. “Gotta get you stretched out for me Eden, gonna fuck this pretty little pussy – make it better than your dreams.” 

The ‘please’ is out of your lips before you can stop yourself, he chuckles body finally finding yours as he presses up against you, his phone still angled at your pussy where he fucks his fingers into you with vigor. “My pretty girl waking up for more, didn’t feed you enough earlier?” he questions. 

His words have you whimpering, he presses a wet kiss to your neck, licking your skin, “don’t worry baby,” he murmurs, “I’ve got you, don’t even have to open your eyes, gonna take real good care of you.” You find you want to open your eyes; you want to see him. You want to look into those cerulean blue eyes gone dark, those all to pink pouty lips parted in pleasure, you wanted to kiss him.  

And you do, your head turning, seeking out his lips, he goes to you easily, lips finding yours tasting you with his tongue.  

“Fuck I gotta get my cock in there, put you right back to sleep sweet girl.” 

His fingers slip from your pussy hand hooking around your thigh as he gets you into position. He slips his grey joggers down just enough to get his hardened cock out. He gets annoyed with his phone trying to find the perfect angle to slide against you, he finds it groan building in his chest as he presses forward, the head of his cock pressing past your drenched folds, his hips roll forward the tip of his cock brushing against your clit. 

The noises you make are music to his ears, he wants more. 

Grabbing hold of his leaking cock he drags it through your slick folds pressing into your warm heat, a moan falling from your lips as he bottoms out, your body pushes back, ass flush against his hips. 

His head meets your shoulder, ragged breaths fanning across your skin, “fuck this pussy is addicting,” he groans feeling you flutter and clench around the length of him. 

He pulls his hips back, cock sliding out from within you till only the tip is left, he slides back in again making sure to get every inch of it. The buildup is slow, as he fucks up into you, he wants to capture every part of the way your pussy takes him, and he lets you know just how well she is. “She takes me so well, always so fucking hungry for it.” 

If you had trouble keeping quiet then, it's almost impossible to quiet your moans now as he fucks into you with vigor, a steady speed which has the sweetest groans of pleasure falling from your lips and his. “Fuck you’re close aren’t you, can feel her clenching for me baby, you wanna cum for me?” He quickens his thrusts, pressing himself deep, your walls fluttering around him as pleasure builds.    

“Soldat,” you whine low in your throat as if you’re being roused from the depths of your sleep. “There she is,” he chuckles picking up speed needing to bring you to that release. It doesn’t take you long to fall apart around him, his cock taking you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pleasure. Moan's part your lips, fingers curling around the sheets as he fucks you through your orgasm. Your stage name falls from his lips in a silent prayer, “come for me,” you breathe, “fill me up again.” 

Your words have him falling over the edge with you, his jaw clenching as his orgasm washes over him, his stomach muscles tense, as he spills into you, warm spurts filling your core. “Fuck take it, take my cum Eden.” 

You’d take it all and then some if he let you. 

You groan when he slips his cock from you, the flash on his phone bright as he shines it between your legs capturing the moment his cum slides from your pussy. You moan when he pushes it right back in with his fingers. He stops the video, the light going with it as he tosses his phone somewhere on his bed the hand that wasn’t buried between your thighs cradling your head, bringing you closer to him his lips finding yours in the dark. 

“Does this mean Eden Ivy gets to stay the night?” 

“No, but you do.” 

[lawomi]

The Moment Law Starts to See you Differently.

One of @grandline-fics prompts.

LinkTree for Twitter, Ao3, ext.

Summary: The artist of the Heart Pirates is invited to discuss their journal detailing their adventures by their very own Captain.

CW: gn!pronouns, SFW, Fluff, Canon compliant

You are a Heart Pirate. You had joined the notorious crew lead by the Surgeon of Death long ago, sometime after the very start of Trafalgar Law’s journey. He was 18 when you had both met and now you were sailing away from Wanokuni, a place that left your captain ranked on par with the now Yonko: Monkey D. Luffy. It had been an incredible journey so far, one beyond the simple words in your journal.

You sit scribbling in your journal within the library of the Polar Tang. It was small, but it was built alongside one of the Tang’s large portholes, allowing you to admire the vast blue of the sea or the reefs the Tang would make use for cover. A knock came from the door, bringing you out of your concentration.

In came Trafalgar Law, a man dear to you whom you wrote about often… Quite often. You close your journal a bit too hastily, standing straight and saluting your captain. He acknowledges your presence with a nod, dismissing your salute and watches as you sit back down, shyly peeling your journal open again, continuing your scrawling.

Law stands before his collection of books, the ones he does not keep in his office – most often outdated ones or ones he’d already studied several times over – and pulled out a specific one, opening it to the glossary. You can’t help but stare at his back, as was common for you, instead of write. Noticing the sound of lead on paper ceasing, Law turns his head towards you.

“Is everything alright, Y/N-ya?”

Casually, you smile and close your journal again, “I-It’s nothing, Captain. How are your wounds?”

Law absentmindedly adjusts his posture, as though testing his body. “I’m doing rather well. I still need time, of course. So do you. I’m happy to see my crew resting now.” He smiled softly at you, causing your heart to leap into your throat.

“That’s wonderful to hear, Captain.”

You respected this man so deeply, you had romantic feelings for him for years, but you knew those emotions would only distract him from his dreams. Not to mention, he never expressed interest in you. At least, nothing you could pick up on. Despite his intimidating demeanor he was rather affectionate with not only Bepo, but his other crewmates, too. He wasn’t uncomfortable with their outbursts of love, although he kept to himself otherwise. He was the same with you. You’d pat him on the back or give him a high five. Sometimes, usually while drinking, you would wrap your arm around his waist in a friendly embrace.

When you had developed feelings for him, you had made it a habit to deliver his coffee when he needed it. Bepo would always deliver his tea to help him relax, but you would deliver the snacks alongside him as Bepo was prone to eating them himself. The bond the Heart Pirates had with their captain was deep and you were no different to him than they were.

Law’s black shoes clacked along the Tang’s metal floor as he approached you, leaving comfortable space between the two of you on the library’s couch. He continued skimming his book which appeared to be a book on islands. He was likely trying to find details on Winner island in advance to reaching it. You beam in his direction, admiring his focused, pouting profile, then return to your writing.

A few minutes pass and you jump at the fact Law had leaned over to watch you write. You flush furiously, closing the journal impulsively, and stare at him. He chuckled at your response.

“Sorry, curiosity got the better of me. You’ve had that journal a long time, I don’t think I’ve ever asked you what you’ve been working on all this time.”

“Well,” you try to maintain a clear voice, confident tone. “I’ve been documenting my journey. Of course, it’s all my perspective so it isn’t too exciting.”

“Now, now, I’ll be the judge of that,” Law smirked a sly smirk, playfully lifting a hand as though he’d snatch the journal from you. You hug it to your chest tightly, “No!”

His laughter filled your ears, your face burned due to both the sound and the embarrassment. “Why don’t you tell me what you wrote; show me whatever you want to show me. I wouldn’t mind listening.” Law had a playful but affectionate gleam in his eye, one that told you he meant what he said.

You clear your throat and flip through the pages, showing Law one of your first drawings in the journal. It was of the Polar Tang. Law’s keen eyes could see as you flipped that there were portraits as well—namely of him. For now, he kept quiet.

“That’s outstanding,” he remarked, wide eyed as he looked over the drawing. “I know you’ve already done plenty of art around the sub, but this is so detailed. You even labeled it. Incredible. It reminds me of the paintings you do sometimes, but only in pencil!”

Your blush deepens, you slightly lift the journal as though you would close it, shy he was staring so intently. “Th-thank you, Captain,” you manage a warm smile.

“Show me more?” He offered, returning your expression.

Thus you begin the longwinded explanation. From the start of your journey where he’d met you on your home island on the day of an art festival and was so impressed, he invited you aboard. He had hopes in your ability to sew and had you help design and embroider many of the custom outfits he and the others wore. You tell him how proud you are to be a Heart Pirate, eyes shining and arms animated as you explain.

Law can’t help but mimic your smiles and chime in now and again as you spoke. A trend slowly became apparent to him as you delve into the journey further and further. You remembered many things, particularly about him, thanks to writing it down. When you flipped the book to show him drawings, he noticed small doodles of primarily himself as you speedily sifted through pages. He couldn’t help but feel flattered, albeit a tad curious as to why you drew him so much.

The bigger drawings you showed him were of Penguin & Shachi, too. Bepo showed up especially often. Surprise washed over him as you show him a drawing of you hugging him in farewell along with the crew as he headed for Punk Hazard. He swallowed dryly. He didn’t want to show weakness nor regret. He protected his crew by leaving them behind. Still, this drawing had feeling in every brush stroke, in every detail, it made his heart heavy.

Then came the details of your and the crew’s journey without him. He laughed at your antics together and was thankful to hear you had all worked together flawlessly to reach Zou. You told him how much you loved Zou, his eyes widening slightly at the shine in your eyes. The love seeping from you to have come to know the minks, but the absolute joy and tears that flowed out of you as you explained his return took him aback. He gazed at you, brows furrowing and frowning slightly in concentration as your eyes were averted as you spoke. Something about you had always been special to him, but now…

As your explanation came to a close, your journal reaching Wano which was still being filled out, you lean against him in an affectionate nuzzle. “Thank you for listening, Captain.” You were surprised to be met by Law’s tight shoulder, his body having tensed when you touched it. “Oh no,” you remark, gently petting where you’d leaned in. “Did I hurt something?”

Law was hiding under his hat, trying to disguise a blush that had bloomed from ear to ear. “You’re fine,” he said, clearing his throat. Once he recovered, he looked up at you again with intense, loving eyes. “I appreciate you. You are an important part of my crew. I’m happy to have let you join us, so – um – thank you.”

Red now yourself you giggle and nod, standing from where you sat. “I’m going to help the others for lunch. Thank you again, Captain.”

Law nodded, back to his usual stoic expression, watching you intently as you walked away. There was something about you he hadn’t realized affected him so deeply. He found himself recalling how much be loved working on uniforms with you, how much he missed you in particular throughout his journey. Something had clicked during this story you told, something he felt he may need to discuss, one day…

[cosmicmunsonwrites]

Oh my goodness!! I am in love with “you hurt me pretty good too” I would love to read more about them if that’s possible? I mean anything about them I would love...could be their back story (like how they became fwb), the time between part one and two (like telling the cameron family and going to doctors appointments and when reader gives birth), a part three of the story, headcanons of a normal day at reader and rafe’s house, anything

you hurt me pretty good too pt 0.

pairing(s): rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: implied sex, pet names, alcohol consumption

summary: the story of how you and rafe meet.

authors note: i’m so happy to hear you enjoyed it!! i’ll make another part to this as well to explain the rest of the story, but for now, here is this!

part zero | part one | part two

not edited

do not copy my works. i do not condone rewrites, translations, or edited versions. all my content is my content that i wrote.

not my gif

“kie, i’ll be fine. ‘m just gonna go grab another drink,” you drunkenly assured your friend. “i’ll be right back.”

“hurry,” she replied. “come right back.”

you jokingly saluted. “yes ma’am.”

you pushed the glass door open and headed inside the spacious house, pushing past the crowd of drunk teens towards the kitchen where the drinks were held.

you looked to the bowl of red liquid with an empty bottle of vodka beside it. upon noticing the small pockets of whatever unknown substance floating around in it, you opted for something closed and untampered with.

you opened up the fridge and saw the bunches of cases filled with beer. opting for a bottle instead of a can, you picked one out and shut the fridge. as you turned to the side to begin your way back to your friends, someone unknowingly collided with you and whatever cool liquid was in their cup began to pour on and down your shirt.

“shit,” you heard the voice say. “sorry, i wasn’t paying attention.”

you jaw was practically on the floor, arms frozen by your midsection and body beginning to erupt in goosebumps. it was like you’d just jumped into an ice bath.

you were already pissed off that someone had ruined your red top, but that apology was also absolute shit. they couldn’t be more insincere.

you looked up to see who it was, annoyed to find that it was none other than rafe cameron. the shitty apology cashed out now.

he grabbed your hand, the one not holding your beer. “c’mon.” he began to lead you through the watchful eyes of the party and towards what you assumed was a bathroom.

he shut and locked the door once inside and began to bunch up some paper towel. not wanting to stand or sit on a toilet that has been puked on by teens all night, you hopped up on the bathroom counter and sat by the sink.

he ran warm water onto the paper towel and turned to you, beginning to wipe by your collarbones. “so that’s how its gonna go? not gonna ask or anything? just start rubbing a soggy paper towel on me?” you questioned, head tilted down to watch his hand move.

“do you want to be sticky or not?” he snapped with a sassy attitude.

“you were the one that spilled your beer on me,” you replied just as sassy.

he stopped for a second and took a deep breath. “i apologized. did i not?”

you laughed under your breath. “it was a shit apology.”

“yeah? well, at least i apologized,” he replied.

you rolled our eyes and shook your head. you weren’t going to win with him. you knew you weren’t. so you decided to just sit and wait until he finished.

he threw away the old paper towel and grabbed a new one, dipping it under the water again then wiping over the tops of your breasts.

you couldn’t help but look over his concentrated face. he’d truly changed since you last saw him.

he’d traded the side part for a middle part, the polos for flannels and quarter zip sweaters, and he no longer seemed like he was as much of an immature asshole.

still an asshole but much more immature.

“stop ogling at me,” he said.

there was that arrogance you knew so well. “you’re the one staring at my boobs,” you replied.

“so what?” he asked.

your brows furrowed. “so i can’t look at your face, but you can stare at my tits.”

“only reason i’m looking is cause i’m cleaning you off. wanna do it yourself?” he snapped back.

“i’d probably do a much better job,” you replied.

he stopped his movements and leaned back slightly to look in your eyes. “maybe i could work a little better if you’d shut up.”

“you talk big shit, cameron,” you mumbled under your breath.

he squinted at you and leaned in closer. “i didn’t quite catch that. what’d you say?” he knew damn well what you said.

“maybe if you’d just hurry the hell up and clean up your mess, we can both be on our merry little wa—“

before you could even finish your sentence, his lips were on yours.

[eternal-kosmo-ghoul]

*°:⋆ₓₒ day 10. toys

.｡❅*⋆⍋*∞*｡ “festive little fantasies”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — ❤︎ your gift for copia surely got him excited….

pairing: papa copia x afab!reader

a/n: day 10!!!! i wrote this at a restaurant lmao

cw: nsfw content. vibrator. oral sex (f receiving). cunnilingus. edging.

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“… color me surprised, dolcezza. you sure know how to get a man going.” —❤︎

┅✦┅

“merry christmas, darling!”

“… what exactly are you beholding?”

your cheerful, beaming smile turned into a more deadpanned look as you heard a certain papa give you his usual sarcastic quip.

“it’s a present..?” you state in a rather sassy tone, holding the beautifully wrapped present out in your palms for him to see. “y’know, the shit you get on christmas?”

copia eyes the gift in your hands, and he just chuckles. “i know, amore. i’m just messing with you.”

your blank stare quickly morphed back into your excited, playful grin, and handed the box to copia, which he gladly took. it was a rather neatly wrapped gift. a medium sized box wrapped in glittery, red paper with cute snowflake patterns printed all over it. of course, you couldn’t forget the deep green laced bow on top of it, adding holiday charm to the present.

copia gave one of his usual half smiles and tapped the bow on top of the gift, the bow springing a little from the contact. “you surely outdid yourself on the wrapping with this one.”

“yeah, i did. i know i’m great, thank you very much.” you spoke while putting your hands on your hip and flicking your hair dramatically, taking pride in your excellent work.

copia rolled his eyes at you.

“you’re so dramatic sometimes.” he rebuked playfully, and you huffed while keeping your arms crossed.

“well i’m soooo sorry you can’t handle me and my glamorous personality.”

“you sure? i can definitely handle you well in bed—“

“just shut up and open the gift.”

copia laughed heartily, before sitting down in the edge of the bed and unwrapping the present carefully, the paper tears creating satisfying sounds. copia was slowly unraveling the box of its colorful wrapping, and he lifted the lid off of the box to expose… the prize.

his eyes widened a bit as he looked at the intriguing shape of the gift, the mere sight of it coloring his cheeks a hue of scarlet red. however, copia let out a soft, hearty chuckle, before smirking and pulling out the object you had nearly wrapped for him, cradling it with two hands to show it off to you.

“really?” he asked with an authoritative tone, but he was mostly joking. “you got me something that’ll help yourself.”

“heyyy it can help you too!” you exclaimed with a giggle. “help me, help you. mi casa es tu casa.”

“not sure if that’s the right analogy, darling. but whatever floats your boat.”

the gift you had gotten copia was rather… extravagant and sexual. a vibrator, to put it bluntly. however, it was one of the nicer and more high quality ones instead of the shitty porno vibrators you find at the back of a dusty attic. the color was rather beautiful too, a seductive deep shade of red with intricate, satanic-esque black designs that made it look like it was the toy of the devil himself. but the most striking thing about the vibrator, was copia’s name ingrained in beautiful calligraphy handwriting at the base of the toy.

copia looked at you, and you just gave him a mischievous, almost evil looking grin. what crafty little scamp you were.

“custom made just for you, babe.” you smirked, moving to sit next to copia and tapping your fingers on his shoulder in a ‘walking’ motion.

“… color me surprised, dolcezza. you sure know how to get a man going.”

“do you like it?”

“fuck. like is an understatement.”

copia’s gloved fingers gently grasped your chin and tilted your head upwards to make you look at him.

“you have no idea how badly i want to use this bad boy on you.” copia practically pants out, lust lacing his voice.

you groan and whisper in his ear. “then what are we waiting for?”

it didn’t take long before the two of you started to make out furiously. clothed came off in a heated frenzy as you both found yourselves tangled up in the bed, with nothing but your underwear on. copia just panted heavily as he separated his mouth from yours, a glimmering trail of saliva connecting to your guys’ mouths.

copia let out a grunt and buried his head between your legs. using his teeth, he caught the delicate fabric of your panties between them, before using his teeth to pull up your panties, flicking it off of your legs. he cursed at the sight of your dripping wet pussy.

“you look so appetizing.” copia breathed out. you were about to speak, but was quickly cut off with a loud moan when copia started to lap at your clit hungrily.

“oh fuuuck..” you cursed lowly, moaning and spreading your legs a little more as you felt copia eating you out like it’s his last meal, prepping you for the main event.

his tongue worked skillfully around the snensirive bundle of nerves, dripping his saliva all over your slickness and fucking you with his tongue real good. heavenly and airy moans escaped your lips, gripping onto copia’s hair like your life depended on it as you bucked your hips into his face, desperate to feel more of that pleasure.

copia grinned into your glittering cunt and delved his tongue deeper into your folds, moaning at the sweet taste of your nectar. “lucifer, you taste so good.”

after eating you out for a decent amount of time, copia drew his tongue away from your puffy cunt, before he reached his hand to the vibrator that was sitting on the quilt of your sheets. he shimmied himself behind you, that way your back was against his chest and his arm was wrapped around your middle. you moaned and teasingly ground your ass against his dick, making him let out a sharp gasp.

“you little tease.” copia jeered, and you just grinned.

“can’t help it.” you spoke.

copia just sighed and click the vibrator on, feeling it buzz in his hands for a bit. he then grinned before bringing it down between your legs, letting the head of it press against your already stimulated pussy. the pleasurable vibrations only made your legs jolt with pleasure, and you cried out in pure euphoria.

“a-ahh!”

“shhh… that’s it baby.. relax…”

he massaged the sex toy all over your aching red folds, watching you squirm in his grasp as you felt an intense amount of pleasure from the vibrator. copia got more bold and turned up the intensity of the vibrations slowly, before it was at max. you cried out loudly, feeling incredibly overwhelmed by pleasure, the vibrator making your puffy cunt flutter around the head of it, and making it super wet.

“you’re doing so good..” copia praised, his lips nibbling at your earlobe while he massaged the vibrator into your pussy. the feeling of pleasure was so intense.

you were close.

“f-fuck! copia! i need to cum!” you shrieked, voice high pitched and blissed out from how good you felt.

your orgasm was dangerously close, that edge of pleasure you needed to reach to feel fulfilled. you were getting closer.. and closer.. and closer…

… until the pleasure stopped.

looking behind you to see that copia turned off the vibrator, you whined in protest. copia didn’t say a word until he turned on the vibrator again and shoved the toy inside of you, making you shriek with pleasured-pain.

“i’m not going to let you cum until i say so. for now, just sit there like a good little fuck doll and let me play with your pussy.”

you just whimpered mindlessly, too focused on the vibrator fucking you to fully comprehend his words.

“alright then.. now.. take it, cara.”

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[stilesmieczyslaw]

Memories of you

Synopsis: After an accident, you forget the love of your life Peter. Thankfully Spiderman talks some sense into you. Pairings: Fem Reader x Spiderman Warnings: Angst, a small bit of fluff. Mentions of guns, violence and blood. Three cuss words (Although two of them are the same word) AN: I love Spiderman. I wrote this with Andrew!Peter in mind and I mention the skateboard but I guess if you ignore that part it could be for any Peter. This is also my first Spiderman fic Words: 7.5K Now "Peter Parker, I swear if you don't get to this restaurant in the next ten minutes I'm going to kill you." You laughed down the phone. You were sat in a fancy restaurant at a table for two. The waiters had come past many times trying to take your order. "Come on Y/N, you know what it's like. Crime never sleeps!" He argued back. You could tell by the sound of his voice that he was swinging. "You'll be sleeping on the couch at this rate." You jokingly threatened. Both of you knew you didn't really mean it.

"Y/N!" He gasped with mockery. "How could you? It's our wedding anniversary and you're threatening me with the couch?" "You've got 8 minutes now or it's the couch." You hung up the phone with a smile on your face.

Yes, you were married to the masked superhero spiderman. You could barely believe it at first. You had bumped into Peter Parker at college. Your parents wanted you to take a law degree but you had dabbled in science instead. Now you taught at one of the local schools passing on that passion that you had.

But, you had to get there first and at college, science wasn't your strongest suit. You were good at it at school but now at degree level... Not so much.

A few years ago You had been looking blankly at the sheet of paper in front of you when someone pulled you out of your thoughts. "Are you okay?" This man had asked you. You looked up at him and were almost flawed by his presence. He had a concerned but cheeky smile on his face. You blinked at him a few times. Not giving an answer. Maybe you were stunned by his beauty because you had been looking at the stupid sheet in front of you, or maybe he was really attractive. Both, it was probably both.

"Are you... Okay?" He prompted again, now slightly more worried than he had been before. You realized you had been staring at him. "Oh! Yeah. I'm... great." You grimaced. "Just hoping the knowledge will flow into my brain via osmosis." "Diffusion." He put his bag down on a seat. "Do you mind if I sit?" He pointed to the seat opposite you. "Huh?" Was all you could manage in response. You probably were crazy. You were going to scare him off. He sat down with a laugh

"Osmosis," He explained, "Is only for water. If it's anything else, it's diffusion. So for example, plant roots absorbing water from the soil is Osmosis. An example of diffusion is the flavoring of tea coming out of a tea leaf. So for the knowledge to leave the page and enter your head, would be diffusion." "Right." You nodded at the stranger in front of you. "Well... I'm hoping the knowledge will hurry up and diffuse because I've got an exam coming up and I don't understand. No, that's the wrong word. I do understand its just..." You motioned with your hands. "I can't... Diffuse the information back out. I know the answer but I can't explain the answer. Does that make sense?"

The stranger closed one eye. Almost in thought himself. "In a very odd way, yes. Yes it does." "I am so sorry. I'm Y/N." You stretched your arm out for him to shake. He took it with a smile. "I'm Peter. We have some classes together." "We do? I promise I'm not usually this airheaded. I'm just burnt out I think." He only smiled at this.

Peter enjoyed watching people. That was his thing. He was a people watcher. He took photos at school. Both for the school and for himself. He was always seen with his camera. In a way, it was how he got to know people. From a distance and then he introduced himself. Some people thought it was creepy. He didn't mean it to be in the slightest. But it was his way of getting to know people.

He had spotted you one day in class. You were so absorbed in the teacher. You were listening to every word they said, unlike most of the people in the class - admittingly that included him. Other people were doodling, texting, and watching videos. You were giving all of your attention to the teacher. You were paying so much attention you forgot to write your notes. He enjoyed watching you a lot. So when today, you looked frustrated he wanted to help you.

"How about," He raised an eyebrow at you. "We go grab some coffee and we can go over the textbook together with a fresh pair of eyes. We could be study buddies. I have the same exam coming up that you do." "Peter, I think you are on to something." You nodded.

Your study sessions together evolved. They started at a coffee shop, moved to the library which then moved into the dorms. "Come on." Peter nudged you, "Explain it to me again." You were both laid on the floor surrounded by notes. You found that explaining it to Peter was easier than trying to reason with it in your own head. You began to explain it to him when you noticed that he wasn't listening to you. He was just staring at you with a goofy smile on his face. You internally laughed before trying something out.

"And then, when you add Oxygen to the equation right... I kiss Peter for being such a great help to me these past few weeks and then he's amazed by my kissing skills so immediately asks me to be his girlfriend then we get married and have ten children. Does that sound right to you?" "Yeah." He nods. You began to laugh hysterically as he looked at you confused. It took him a few moments to realize what you had said.

He began to look at you with a serious look. It stopped you from laughing and you began to blush. The look was so intimate. Almost like he was looking into your soul. He leaned forward and kissed you softly. So soft it was almost like he wasn't touching you at all but at the same time it was so intense. You rolled over onto your back, pulling him with you. The kiss became rougher. Your notes were forgotten.

You began dating, you aced all of your exams and Peter helped to get you into the teaching life. He had said you explaining everything to him had helped him learn too. As things became more serious and you spent more time together you began to notice things. He would arrive to dates slightly out of breath. He would end dates suddenly promising to make it up to you. When you lay in bed together you noticed faint bruises on his torso. After a year of it you began to question things.

"Peter." You said seriously. "Y/N." He replied trying to use the same tone you had. "Why are you covered in bruises?" You asked. He looked at you perplexed. He shook his head. "I always fall off my skateboard. You know me." He shrugged with a smile. You weren't convinced. "Peter. I do know you, and I know when you are lying. Please, Peter. I love you." You gasped realizing what you just said. You'd not said it before. This was the first time.

Peter's eyes became soft and he stepped closer to you placing his hands on either side of your face, stroking your cheeks with his fingers. "You love me?" He asked. It was almost a silent whisper. If you weren't as close as you had been then you wouldn't have heard him. Not at all. You nodded.

"Of course I do Peter. How could I not? I love you so much, but when you lie to me... It hurts Peter. I understand if you don't feel the same way." You began to pull back from him when he held onto your hand. Willing you to stay. "No, no, no, please Y/N. I love you too. I feel the same. When I look at you I feel like my heart might burst." His hands were shaking. To be honest so were yours.

"Then why are you lying to me? Is it something bad? We can work it out together." He looked lost for a moment. Lost in his own head. Contemplating. He didn't want to put you in danger. Everyone who ever knew ended up hurt, he didn't want you hurt. But also he didn't want to lose you.

"I'm gonna tell you. I'm gonna tell you. Just, don't hate me." "I don't think that's possible Peter." You affirmed. He took a deep breath and shook his hands. "I'm... I'm spiderman." He looked at you. You looked at him. You were silent for a few seconds before laughing.

"Peter I'm being serious. I'm really concerned and you're saying stuff like that! Come on, please." "I am being serious." He didn't join in your laughter. He took one of your hands in his, and with his other he stretched it out and webs shot out of it.

"Woah!" You exclaimed. You looked at where the webs landed then down at his wrist. You ran your hands over his sleeve to reveal a little wrist contraption. "How have I not noticed that before?" You pondered more to yourself but it still got a chuckle out of him.

"I don't wear it all the time. And I've been doing this for years now. I'm good at hiding it." You were still running your hands over his wrist trying to figure it out. "What are you thinking?" He nudged his nose against yours given your close proximity.

"You're spiderman." You said in awe. "I am." "I'm dating spiderman." "You are."

Now

And now you were sat in a restaurant waiting to celebrate your wedding anniversary. You had accepted long ago you had to share your husband with the people of New York. It wasn't always easy but Peter always made it up to you. You felt loved and cared for which is all you could ever ask.

"EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR!" A group of men came in shouting. Everyone looked startled. They had guns. "WE SAID ON THE FLOOR!" You all quickly got to the floor. A kid who was sitting with his mom at the next table began to wail in fright.

"It's okay Josh." His mom cooed. "SHUT THAT KID UP!" One of the men shouted walking towards the child and therefore you. The mother began to wail too. Frightened for her child and her own life. "Hey you'll be okay." You smiled at the boy. Fighting your own tears.

"Is this boy yours?" The gunned man asked kneeling down. You couldn't see his face for the mask but you knew he was annoyed. "No but..." You started. You were smacked in the temple with the hilt of the gun. There was a horrible noise and the world went strange. You could feel the blood coming out of the open wound.

"Mom look! Spiderman!" You heard the child exclaim. "Spiderman?" The gunned man questioned. "How'd he get here so fast?" Of course. He was already on his way here to meet you. He must have seen the commotion. "You're in trouble." You remarked. You don't know what happened after that. Other than the feeling of being hit again in the same spot as before

The next thing you were aware of was beeping. A constant beeping. What was that? Everything was dark but that beeping was shrill. How could you stop it? You realized your eyes were shut. Was the beeping your alarm? Last you knew your alarm was some cheesy pop song, although you couldn't place which one. You opened your eyes slowly. You were met by a harsh light. You winced and held your hand to your face. That's when you noticed a wire, your eyes followed it to see that you were hooked up to machines and other equipment. You began to panic. What happened? There was a guy sleeping in a chair next to your bed. You considered waking him up but a nurse came into the room instead.

"Y/N. You're awake. How are you?" The nurse put her hand on your shoulder in an attempt to soothe you. It didn't help. "Where am I?" In the commotion, the guy in the chair woke up. "Y/N!" He shouted with glee. You winced at his loudness. He leaned forward to kiss you gently but the nurse held up her hand to stop him.

"I still need to check her over before you get your hands on her." There was a playful tone in her warning. "Excuse me sorry." You interrupted with a forced smile. "Where am I!?" "You're in the hospital. There was an accident. An armed robbery, you helped protect a child and you got hurt. But thankfully spiderman was there to save you." She had a smile on her face.

"Spider who?" You were too focused on the nurse to notice Peter tense up. "Spiderman, New York's very own superhero. He saved you. You lucky thing." "I have no idea what you're talking about," You blankly replied. It was the nurse's turn to go stiff. "Y/N, what year is it?" You thought for a moment. "I don't know." You whispered. "I don't know. Why don't I know?" The nurse rubbed your shoulder "I'll go fetch a doctor. They will be happy to know you're awake." And she quickly left the room.

There was a strange silence. The guy who had been sleeping on the chair was looking at you. You cleared your throat. "Were you involved too? In the robbery?" He shook his head. Not sure what to say. If you didn't know who spiderman was... did you know who he was? When you met, Spiderman had been around for a few years. "Oh." Was all you said. Why was he here? If he wasn't involved then why? Was he a doctor? No, he wasn't in scrubs and the nurse wouldn't have had to fetch a doctor if he was already here.

The door opened and some old balding man came in wearing scrubs. "Mrs Parker, I'm glad to see you're awake." You didn't say anything. You looked around the room to see if anyone else was in the room. No, it was just you and this guy. "I'm sorry. I think you looked at the wrong file. I'm not Mrs. Parker. I'm Y/N Y/L/N." "Y/N." The doctor said in a soothing voice. The same one the nurse had used. "I'm afraid that there's been some damage to your brain. You don't know the date do you?" "No. I don't." You agreed. Then you paused. You didn't know what your phone ring tone was, you didn't know the date, you didn't know the guy standing next to your bed... the doctor called you Mrs. Parker...

You looked at the guy's hand. He had a wedding ring on. You were almost too frightened to look at your own hand, but you had to. Your eyes wandered down and there it was. A wedding ring. Right there on your finger. You hadn't noticed it before and now you couldn't help but notice it. Suddenly it became too tight. It was going to cut the circulation off your finger. You tried to get it off but it wouldn't budge. You were beginning to hurt yourself.

"Y/N!" The guy called out. There was something in his voice that helped calm you. He took your hand and took the ring off it for you with ease. You looked down at the little indent in your finger. You must have been wearing it for a while. You were too busy looking at your now bare hand to notice Peter was crying. He held tightly onto the ring. When he put it on you years ago, he never thought he would help you take it off.

"Y/N." The doctor said slowly. You looked up at him but you still were rubbing your finger. "I'll need to run some more tests but it seems you do have some memory loss. Hopefully, these tests can figure out how much damage has been done." "Will she... er... Get them back." The guy asked. He rubbed his nose and coughed to hide the fact that he was crying. "It's hard to say." The doctor answered honestly. "With this, she could get them back by tonight or not at all. I'm sorry I can't be more of a help. I'll be back in a few minutes. If you need anything don't hesitate to ring the call button." He gave a quick smile before he was off.

There was silence in the room. Well, except for the sniffing coming from the guy. It wasn't in your nature to let people suffer. You just couldn't. "I feel horrible for asking this. But what is your name?" You finally asked. He looked up at you. His eyes were bloodshot. "Peter, Peter Parker." Instinctively you held your arm out for him to shake. "I'm Y/N Y/L/N." He looked at your hand for a moment. Memories going through his mind. But not yours. He shook it slowly. "But I guess I'm Y/N Parker. You're my husband?" He nodded.

"That's crazy." You said more to yourself. "I woke up married. It's like that show, married at first sight." You laughed but he did not. "Sorry." You apologized. "How long have we been married?" "3 years yesterday." He answered. He was still not looking at you directly. He was looking at the hospital bed. "3 years yesterday... Am I ugly?" That caused him to look at you. "What?" "You won't look at me. Did I grow up to be ugly?"

He sat down on the chair next to your bed again and took your hand in his. It felt odd to you. The way he was holding on for dear life but you felt strange. "Y/N. You are not ugly. It's just... You don't know who I am and it's breaking my heart. It's also breaking my heart to see what that man did to you. I should have been there. With you. It's my fault." "Well... I can't say much about you because, well I can't. I just met you. But unless you were the guy with the gun. You didn't do this to me." You soothed. "Although I want to see what my face looks like. Is there a mirror or..." He passed you a phone. It had no buttons. How would you get the home screen up? As you lifted the phone it lit up by itself and unlocked.

You easily got the camera open and looked at yourself. To say you had a black eye would be an understatement. It was so dark and it covered most of the left side of your face. You were almost convinced you could see the shape of the handle. "Now that's what I call a shiner." You gasped. Peter stood up suddenly. "It's not funny Y/N!" Normally he would love your humor and sarcastic jokes but right now he couldn't take it. How could you joke in a moment like this? "I'm sorry." You put the phone down. You felt like your dad was scolding you for staying out too late with your friends. "No. Don't be sorry." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have shouted."

The doctor came back in to do your tests.

A week had passed since then. The doctor was satisfied with your health, minus the memory loss. He did hope your memory would return and he did give you some exercises to try and help you. He also gave you his number and office hours if you needed anything. Right now you were in the back of a taxi going to an apartment that Peter called home. From your point of view was just an apartment. Peter paid the taxi driver and you both got out. The apartment wasn't a grand one. It was okay. You wondered what you had thought of it before the accident. Peter noticed your face.

"This is the best we can do on our wages." He was almost embarrassed. "What do we do?" "I'm a photographer for the daily bugle and you're a middle school teacher." "I'm a what? I'm not a lawyer?" He almost chuckled at your response. "No. You hate law." "I hate law?" He nodded at you before leading you into the apartment block. You walked up a few flights of stairs before he lead you to a door. He opened it and let you go first.

On the walls were photos of you and Peter. Some looked older, some looked newer. How long had Peter been in your life? You had been married for 3 years but how long before that had you dated? You stopped at a photo of you both drinking from the same milkshake with giant straws. neither of you were looking at the camera. Just smiling at each other. You smiled at it. You looked very happy in that photo. Peter stood behind you.

"The lady who took that photo worked at the diner. I've known her forever. She saw how happy we looked and she snuck the photo while we didn't notice." "We look so happy. I think this might be my favorite of all the photos here." Peter made a noise with his nose. "That photo was always your favorite." "Nice to see my head, even empty, still has taste." There you were again. Making jokes like this didn't matter. The air became stiff. You coughed and moved on.

The rest of the apartment looked well-loved. There were dishes in the sink. Clothes waiting to be washed. A collection of books and DVDs. "Can I have a nap? I'm exhausted." "Yeah. That's not a problem. I'll make dinner." Peter wandered towards the kitchen while you stood still. "Peter." You got his attention. He looked up at you with loving eyes. Despite not knowing this man at all you couldn't help but melt at the way he looked at you. Yes, it was odd but you had accepted that. But it was also sweet. "I don't know where the bedroom is."

"Of course! It's just... Wait. Wait right there one moment." He ran off in front of you and disappeared into a room. He had to hide his Spiderman suits. While he trusted you more than anything and anyone in the world. You currently had no memory. He didn't know what you were like before you met. What if you saw the suits and suddenly the secret was out? He hid them under the floorboards, the place he normally put them when you had guests. He came rushing back out and called you over.

"Did you have to hide your mistress?" You asked. Normally he would run with the joke. Tell you he had at least one mistress for each day of the week, but he didn't. He was worried that you wouldn't run with the joke. What if you thought he really did have a mistress? "I'm joking Peter." You reassured. He only nodded. You hated it. Could you not make jokes anymore? Was your life before the accident void of all jokes? You huffed and brushed past him. You closed the door behind you leaving him on the other side. This was going to take a while.

Later that night you both ate in silence. Nothing could be heard except the sounds of cutlery hitting off plates. You wanted to compliment him on his cooking. This was delicious. But the air was so thick. You hoped your first date with him wasn't this awkward. As soon as dinner had finished you excused yourself back to your room. Part of you hoped Peter would follow you. You didn't want to sleep with him in the way a married couple would. But the thought of sleeping alone was upsetting. You didn't know why. To you all nights so far except the odd sleepover, you had slept alone. So why tonight did it feel so strange?

Peter was on the other side of the door having a similar crisis to you. He wanted nothing more than to lie in your bed together and hold you in his arms. Since you woke up a week ago he hardly interacted with you. He was always in the corner watching you, willing for you to remember. He almost felt selfish. He wanted you to get your memories back for your own sake of course, but he just wanted you to smile at him like you used to. Now if you even glance at him, it's the smile you would give a stranger in passing.

Peter raised his hand to knock but decided against it. He shook his head and made his way to the couch. "You'll be sleeping on the couch at this rate...You've got 8 minutes now or it's the couch." Your words that night swam around in his head. You were joking, you couldn't see the future. But you were right. He had been too long, it had taken him too long to get to you and you almost died and now here he was. On the couch. Why did he put spiderman first? One night a year is your anniversary, he could have stopped for one night. Well... He hadn't left your side at the hospital. Spiderman had been missing for a week. You needed him. Everything else would have to wait.

You sat on the bed, your phone in your hand. Your lock screen was a selfie of you and Peter. Proof that he was someone important in your life. You flicked through the gallery on your phone and there was an entire life you didn't know on there. Photos of study notes, photos of Peter asleep on top of study notes, coffee dates, graduation, your engagement... Your wedding... You quickly closed the app getting overwhelmed but, you didn't lock the screen. You opened up the browser and looked up 'Spiderman'. This person had saved your life and apparently, they were a big deal. You should see what the fuss was about.

'Spiderman still missing.' 'Spiderman's absence is felt amongst everyone' 'Webhead Spiderman officially retired?' These were all headlines that popped up. You didn't click on any of them. Instead, you pressed videos and watched them closely. This guy was impressive! You could see why so many people admired him. The more videos you watched the more enamored you became with him. He had saved your life. How could you ever thank him? You locked your phone and settled off to sleep. All while Peter stayed wide awake on the couch.

-----

More days passed and your memory still had not returned. The photos on the wall began to haunt you. They were looking at you. Judging you for not remembering. You hated them. All of these memories. You were beginning to wonder if they were ever your memories to begin with. "How about we look at the photos on your phone?" Peter suggested. "See if any of them bring anything back." "How about no." You bit back. "I can't look at any more photos. They are bad enough!" You motioned to the photos on the wall. "Y/N. The Doctor said you needed..." "I don't give a damn what the doctor said! I want to go home!" "You are home." He pleaded with you. "No I'm not! I want to go home, to my parents and look at my one direction poster and hug my plushies and I want to talk to my friends. None of them who have contacted me by the way. Why don't I have any friends Peter? What did my life become? Whatever it is maybe it isn't worth remembering!"

"Y/N I'm trying my best here!" He got sucked into the argument. "I've done exactly as the doctor has asked of me. Don't rush things. I've slept on the couch. I told your friends not to bombard you with messages because it might confuse you. I've tried and tried to help you with your memories but you keep pushing me away." "Because I don't know you!" You shouted. "I don't know you! You're just some man who I woke up one day and boom! You're my husband. How is that not confusing? You being here is confusing." You grabbed your coat and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Peter tried to get in your way. "For a walk. Why? Am I under house arrest now? Am I grounded?" "Let me go with you. You don't know where you are." "That might be true but let me tell you. Sitting in this apartment with you is no different." You slammed the door behind you.

The air was cold but thankfully your coat was warm. You walked and walked. Not really having a destination in mind. You just needed some air and to get away from those photographs. You didn't realize how dark it had gotten. You sat on a bench and pouted. You knew you were being too harsh on Peter. It wasn't his fault. The way he looked at you. He really loved you and it pained both of you that you didn't look at him the same way. How could you forget someone who loved you that much?

You wanted to remember for him. He looked at you with so much love and it hurt. Both of you hurt. You felt selfish and rude for not giving him what he wanted but how could you give it to him when you hardly know him? Walking out as you did probably wouldn't have helped the situation at all. Now it was probably even more awkward.

There was a loud thud next to you pulling you out of your thoughts. You looked up and saw a man in a suit. "Spiderman?" You asked. "You know who I am?" He sounded shocked. "Yeah. You saved my life two weeks or so ago. I looked you up and apparently, you're a big deal. So thank you for saving my life." "Its no problem miss..." "Y/N. I'd tell you my last name but I don't know really what it is." "You don't know what your last name is?" He sat down next to you. "You don't need to bother with me." You waved off. "I'm sure there is a little old lady with a cat stuck up a tree. I'm nobody important." "You just told me you didn't know your last name. I feel like that is important."

"When you saved me apparently I got memory loss and I've lived an entire life that I don't remember." "Oh I know you." Spiderman gasped. "You were in that restaurant. You tried to help a kid. Can I have a look?" He motioned to his own head where your damage was. You nodded and leaned closer to him. Peter's hands began to tremble. You hadn't let him this close in days. He could feel the warmth of your skin. The bruises were already going down. That was good. How he wished he could touch your face with his bare hands and not through his suit. He missed you.

"I've got a husband Mr Spiderman." You joked. Peter coughed and moved slightly away when he realized he had been caressing your face. You yourself even began to blush slightly. "Tell me about him. Your husband." Spiderman requested. You laughed again. "Why? Are you going to beat him up? That was some serious face stroking there." Peter laughed. It was the first time in a while. "No. I was just admiring the fact that you went through all of this to help a child. And they call me a hero." "I'm sure you've saved plenty of children." "But I have superpowers and you don't." He pointed out.

The night was getting even darker somehow. "So tell me. About your husband." "I don't really know him but I'll try my best. I mean I can't remember him, not that I don't know him. Well... I don't know him..." "Y/N. I understand." Spiderman interrupted. You let out a breath of relief. "His name is Peter, he's got brown hair and brown eyes. He sometimes wears glasses and sometimes he doesn't. I haven't quite figured out what occasion calls for glasses and what doesn't but I'm determined to find out." You couldn't see obviously but Peter was smiling at that observation.

"He's about... Your height I guess. He's really nice to me and patient, even though other people wouldn't be if they were in his shoes. I can tell he's upset but he doesn't say anything. Sometimes when he thinks I'm not there he cries. I know he's not sleeping. He's too upset. But he's not mad. Well, except for tonight but that was my fault, it all got too much and I took it out on him because he was there. He's been nothing but a saint and I've been nothing but a bitch. He loves me, I wish I could love him back. He's the nicest guy I've met... No offense Spiderman." "None taken." Spiderman joked in return. It was making him well up, everything you were saying. "He's also really handsome. He has the prettiest smile. As I said his eyes are brown but they are so soft and the way he looks at me makes me feel fuzzy inside..."

Spiderman gave a mock gasp. "Do you have a crush on your husband?" You blushed even more at the question. "Don't make it sound weird!" You nudged him. "I married him, I must have a crush on him!" "Even with your memories gone?" "I said my memories were gone. Not my eyes." You paused. "I... I think... I think I need to be nicer to him. He's doing all of this for me and I'm just throwing it back in his face. I'm focused on myself when I'm not thinking about what it must be like for him. But at the same time, I woke up one day with a husband who I don't even know. It's so confusing."

"Do you want to know my opinion Y/N?" Spiderman asked. You gave a sigh but nodded, fearing what he had to say. "Maybe, both you and your husband... Obviously, work on trying to get your memories back. But instead of just focusing on your old memories, make some new ones. Go on your second first date with him. Clearly, you like him." He chuckled. "Stop making it weird Spiderman." You warned again with a smile. "All I'm saying is both of you are focused on the past. While it will be great for you to get that back. Focus on the future. Fall in love with him again. He misses your smile, more than you know." He trailed off. "How would you know that?" You questioned looking at him oddly. "I. Er... From the way you describe him. You said he looks at you in a certain way, I'm a guy I know how people look... and what they are thinking, and if my wife lost her memories I'd be wanting anything to get her like her old self... Not that I have a wife, you know saving New York and all..."  He was now the one babbling. "Okay, Spiderman. I'll take your word for it. But, speaking of. Apparently, you've been missing for two weeks. The people of New York need you." "Someone else needed me more." He said softly. There was something in his voice you couldn't place. "I need to go Y/N, you okay now?" "I'm great Spiderman, thank you for your advice. You've given me something to think about." "Anytime Y/N." And he swung off just as fast as he arrived.

His absence was immediately felt. It was dark and it was cold. You looked around trying to find your bearings but you didn't know where you were and you couldn't put your address into your phone because you didn't know your address. Peter had warned you about this but you didn't listen. You knew your parent's address but they lived too far away to walk and you didn't bring any money with you to get the tube or a taxi. You began to feel nervous.

You looked down at your phone. You have to do it. You had to. Would he hate you after you stormed out? There was only one way to find out. The phone rang maybe once before it answered. "Y/N? Where are you?" He sounded worried. "I don't know where I am." You admitted in a small whisper. "No that's okay, our phones are linked. I can find out your location through that." He paused for a couple of seconds. "Right you're not that far from where I am. I'll be there in a couple of minutes." "You're out too?" "Yeah. Of course Y/N. I was worried about you and I came looking for you." "I'm sorry." "Don't be. You've done nothing wrong." "I've been an absolute bitch." You gave a small laugh. "Don't worry about it." "You're supposed to say, no you haven't Y/N, you've been an absolute Angel Y/N" You laughed. You heard him laugh too. It was a nice laugh. You wanted to hear it more.

"I can see you now." You heard him say. You looked around and saw him walking towards you. You couldn't help but grin at him. You heard him give a small gasp on the phone. You felt yourself get flustered. You weren't supposed to hear that. But he hadn't seen you smile that much to see him in two weeks. It was almost like you hadn't forgotten him.

"I'm sorry." You apologized to him again once he was closer. You both shoved your phones into your pockets. "It's okay Y/N, really it's okay." "I want to apologize also for..." "Let's get home first, out of this cold." He motioned with his head which direction to go. Now he mentioned it, it was very cold. Without thinking you wrapped yourself around one of his arms, resting your head on his shoulder, huddling him closer. He smelt nice, and he was warm.

Your eyes widened when you realized what you had done. You went to pull away and Peter whispered, "Don't," he sounded both sad and happy at the same time. How was that possible? But you stayed, hugging his side. You had one arm wrapped around his arm while the other was holding his hand. You couldn't be closer to him if you tried but it felt right. Natural, like you were always supposed to be here. Peter couldn't help the huge grin on his face. While this was only a small respite from reality it was greatly welcomed.

You suddenly pulled away with a strange face. He almost whined at the loss of contact. He saw your face. "What is it Y/N?" "Can you smell that? Something smells like it's on fire." Peter raised his nose and he could smell it now that you mentioned it. He suddenly went into Spiderman mode. Something was on fire. What if someone was hurt? He rushed off in the direction of the fire without thinking. If something happened like this while you had your memories, when you knew he was spiderman, you would drop him a text telling him to meet you when he was done. But you didn't know. You ran off following him but you lost him.

But you didn't lose the fire. You saw it. A house. You saw a family crying outside. A child had been left inside by accident. You looked around the crowd trying to see Peter but you couldn't. Where was he? You pulled out your phone and rang him, no answer. You tried again but to no avail. Suddenly Spiderman came rushing out of the house with a limp and handed the child over to the parents. The whole crowd gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, sir." The father said. "With the news, I was worried you wouldn't come. Thank you, Sir, thank you."

Spiderman patted the man on the shoulder and swung off, much as he had done earlier. But you noticed something nobody else did. Everyone was so happy the child was safe that they didn't notice the limp. They didn't notice the blood running down Spiderman's leg. You followed in the direction Spiderman went. You found him a couple of alleys away. A lot easier to find than Peter. You hoped he would ring you back soon.

"Spiderman?" You called out. He jumped suddenly at the presence of another human but relaxed when he saw it was you. "Y/N, you shouldn't be here. It's not safe." "But you're hurt." You ignored him getting closer. You heard him grunt in pain. "Y/N. Go." He ordered. "Firstly, I don't know where I am, secondly, my husband wandered off, thirdly you're bleeding, so no." You argued. You got closer to him. He was starting to bleed on the floor. You could see a piece of wood sticking out of his leg.

"Let me help you." You said softly. "I said go Y/N!" He said loudly. "And I said no Peter!" You said just as loudly. Both of you paused for a second. Peter. Spiderman. Peter. Spiderman. He looked at you and you looked at him. "What did you say?" He whispered. "I said... No... Peter." You gulped, tears forming in your eyes. You slowly lifted his mask. He didn't stop you. There he was. Your husband. With the eyes you loved so much. You had spent hours of your life looking into those eyes.

"Peter." You raised your hand to touch his face. He leaned into your touch. "How could I forget my Peter?" Both of you were crying. "You remember me?" He asked out of disbelief. You nodded getting even closer to him. You couldn't stop looking at his face. You had been looking at him for two weeks but you hadn't seen him until now. He wanted to kiss you. He really did.

"Oh my gosh you're bleeding." You remembered. You looked down at his leg. "I don't care." He brushed off getting you to look at him again by gently putting his hand on your face. "I care..." You started but he kissed you. It felt so right to be kissing him. It felt even more right than when you wrapped your arm around him earlier. Your tears mixed together on your faces. You pulled back for air, breathless. "We need to get you home." "Home?" "Home."

And there you were. It was hard getting back to your apartment with a limping and bleeding Spiderman without being seen but you did it. You knew exactly where it was. You opened the door and lead him in but not without looking at the photographs you loved so much on the wall. You lead Peter to the couch where you began to help him take off his suit so you could look at his leg better. "Y/N, I'm a married man." He laughed about what you said earlier. You shook your head and continued to take his suit off. He began to laugh. You looked at him. "What?" "You have a crush on me." He almost giggled. You rolled your eyes. "I said don't make it weird." You felt yourself beginning to blush. "Even with no memories, you still have eyes and you have a crush on me." "Peter." You whined.

He sat forward and took your face into his hands again. "You are adorable." He wiggled his nose against yours. He could feel the heat in your cheeks. "And don't worry. I have a crush on you too. Memories or not." "I've been so horrible these past few weeks." You said, not looking at him. "Hey." He got you to look at him. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. "But..." "No But. I love you and nothing you do, or what happens to you, will change that. I meant what I said earlier. If you never got your memories back I would happily make more with you. Take you on that second first date."

You smiled at him with tears in your eyes. "Can I have my ring back? I'm quite ready to be Mrs Parker again." He reached down into the pocket of the suit where he usually kept his phone and pulled your ring out. "You kept it on you?" "Yeah. The doctor said your memories could pop back at any moment, which they did. I had to be prepared."  He lifted your hand and placed your ring back where it belonged. "In sickness and in health." "You may certainly kiss the bride." You smiled at him before kissing him softly. You pulled back suddenly... "Oh my god you are still bleeding."

[sisitrip]

"As Sweet and Soft"

Gallavich A.U.gust 2024

Smell her. She makes an event deadline on time lol.

For Gallavich A.U.gust @gallavichthings 'free week', I'm pulling out something a little different.

A/N and TW: The title of this story is a misnomer of sorts. This is a story that deals with themes of loss, regret, a retelling of an unaliving attempt, abandonment, and unburdening of harmful secrets. But, it also includes, above all, love of family, reconnection and the humorous ways we all try to overcome massive pain because there’s just no right way to do that. Here, there be comedy too (I hope) and moments so special (hoping again), I smiled the entire time I wrote it. 

So, lovely readers, the both of you lol, if the themes I mentioned will bring you harm in any way, feel free to skip this one and peruse other works that will keep you safe. Besides AO3, check out some other Tumblr accounts in the Gallavich fandom that might have offerings for you. This fandom is jammed with phenomenal creatives and I’m so happy they let me say “I go here.” 

With that, please enjoy "As Sweet and Soft."

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

Ian walked him to the front and sat him down carefully as if settling a delicate piece of rice paper. With a kiss and a promise to be back after his ‘errand’, Ian left him alone and reeling.

Mickey sat in the loudest quiet he’s ever been unlucky enough to sit in. Churches, somehow more massive inside than out, always seem to bestow their attendees the power to hear the smallest sound; an apologetic peace offering for its chilly welcome.

Mickey flexed that bestowed power to catch a tiny sniffle. The scritch of nails on stockinged legs. A softly sobbed “42 is so young.” He hid behind this cataloging of sounds, all while wrinkling the most threadbare eulogy ever crafted. Panic rising, he stalled, cataloging absences too. His brothers were here, but his father was not. An aunt he’d never met was here, but Ian was not. 

His mother would never be anywhere again.  

“I’m sorry Mr. Milkovich, but we’ll need to get started. We have a wedding scheduled for later,” the priest murmured regretfully, having materialized like a ghost. He should be regretful. The celebration of death shouldn’t be rushed. 

At the lectern, he looked for Ian’s face in the small crowd, but he still wasn’t back. He needed Ian to keep the world from caving in. What errand could be more important than that? 

He smoothed out his speech on the polished, lemon scented wood. But, tears, fat and blinding, made it impossible to read. At sea, he crumpled the eulogy, struggling to articulate this tectonic cut into his life. He cleared his throat, blinking hard, and gave up on doing this justice. He’ll just do it his way.

“I don’t have a lifetime of memories with her to tell you about,” he began, talking to a pillar instead of the people watching him. 

“She left-” He swallowed hard. “She escaped when I was five. It wasn't as dramatic as that sounds. Her disappearance was actually kind of unremarkable, at first.” He gave a short, bitter laugh. “For something that rocked us hard, I somehow managed to miss it.”

He pressed his fingers into the wood, grounding himself. 

“It wasn’t until I hurt myself that it finally sank in. Like a lot of five year olds, I thought she’d feel it if I got hurt. Like physically feel my pain. Dumb, I know. But, she always used to magically appear to comfort me and bandage me up whenever I got hurt.”

He cleared his throat, fighting against the drain of tears building up. 

“When my cut went on bleeding and she didn't show up, I knew. I knew without a doubt that she wasn’t coming back. She couldn’t feel me anymore, I told my five year old self. So, I put a paper towel around the cut and I broke every toy car I had. That’s how I was able to let her go. I didn't know it would be harder to let her go this time.” 

A door opened somewhere and footsteps approached softly behind him. He refused to give the priest the benefit of his attention. He was almost done anyway.

“But, I didn’t let go of what I remembered about her. How she always smelled like dryer sheets and mercurochrome. How her blue eyes dilated to near black whenever she laughed too hard, which wasn’t often.”

He couldn’t see the pillar now and the soft sobbing from the attendees was wrecking his ability to get through this. He went on, nearly whispering as he fought his own sobs. 

“I didn’t let go of the memory of her sneaking up behind me, when I was drawing or coloring, and blowing kisses into the back of my neck to make me laugh. To make me feel like … somebody loved me.”

His eyes were streaming freely now and the pillar was a shapeless waterfall of gray. He doesn’t think he can finish. But, a small hand, bearing chipped, black nail polish squeezed his arm. 

Mandy. Beautiful, and here and here and here, filling the crater of his grief with her light and love. She gave him a curved smile through her tears. 

Weakened by surprise and gratitude, he leaned into her, pressing his forehead to hers. A pressing warmth on his other side was unmistakably Ian who held him up with an arm around his back. He could finish now. He could do anything. But, more than anything, he wanted to honor his mother. He took a deep breath.

“Like I said when I started, I don’t have a lifetime of memories to share with you about my mother. But, I have the ones I just told you about and I will treasure them until I die. When she could be m-my mother, she was everything.” 

He broke. His harsh, raw sobs escaped unchecked and the church saw fit to amplify them with heartbreaking clarity. Mandy and Ian pressed in close and helped him back to his seat where he couldn’t let go of their hands. Not even long enough to wipe his face of tears. Mandy took care of that. Face just as wet, she cleaned his cheeks without bothering to clean her own. That hadn’t changed in all the years they grew up together. Ian held his other hand between his own, sleeving it in safety and warmth.

The awful, anxiety ridden part is over. He did what he could to honor someone he’d lost a long time ago and he’s at peace with it. As at peace as anyone could be whose mother died. It’s a fitful kind of peace that settles uneasily like a misshapen shroud you never wanted to wear.

The rest of the service was quick and when Mandy inclined her head to the side door, he and Ian followed her, leaving the receiving line of strangers for the small, grassy graveyard out back. They sat amongst the sunshine and crooked tombstones, faces upturned to a cloudless sky the color of his mother’s eyes. 

“How’d you know?” he asked Mandy, taking in her shaggy black hair and pierced septum.

“Your hubby tracked me down a few days ago, bought me a ticket. Got me here to the church in record time.” She threw grass at Ian who just smiled softly at her. “He drives like a criminal.”

He caught Ian’s gaze, heart burning inside him. 

“Errand, huh?” he asked, chin trembling. He will never do anything better than marrying this man. 

Ian winked at him then turned to Mandy.

“You’re staying with us for a few days,” Ian said, cleaning grass off his pants. 

He and Mandy exchanged amused looks. Ian had used his “argue with me and find out” voice. 

“Eww, on the Westside? Do I need to get my shots before they let me in?” Mandy teased. 

Ian stood and yanked her to her feet with a smile. “No shots required for family,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. His mother’s dark hair.

They laughed, easy and comfortable, as if no time had passed. He wished his mother could see this enduring friendship between his sister and the man she wouldn’t let him give up on. 

Ian and Mandy held out their hands to him and he squinted against the sun and their openly loving expressions, blinded by both. He’s going to remember this moment forever. His favorite people are smiling down at him and it was as sweet and soft as a kiss to the back of the neck. 

When he’s pulled to his feet, he can’t help the impulsive kiss to each of their cheeks, surprising them. He shrugs. It’s that kind of day. 

“You want to go to the repass?” Ian asked, arms around the both of them as they walk through the shrines of people who will keep his mother company. 

“No,” he said, looking at Mandy. “You?” 

She gave the graveyard a sad, final look. “No. Let’s just get out of here. We’re disturbing the sleepers.”

They found Iggy and Colin shuffling around in front of the church, looking uncomfortable in their ill fitting suits. He’d told them not to bother dressing up, and was touched that they hadn’t listened. When his brothers saw Mandy, they broke into twin grins. 

“Dickhead 1 and 2, what’s good?” Mandy called, grinning too. Before they answered, she dropped her purse and took a run at them, arms wide. If there was anything good to be had from this awful day, it was his brothers happiness at seeing their sister. 

Iggy and Colin caught her and lifted her between them in a hug that at first was full of smiles then descended into tears. Mandy wiped their faces with the sleeve of her jacket and they touched her hair, trying to smile through their tears. Another moment as sweet and soft as a kiss to the back of the neck.

“What’s this shag shit?” Iggy husked as she cleaned his face.  

“Wolf cut. Easier to take care of.” Mandy cleaned Colin’s face next as he flipped a hank of her hair. 

“Call it whatever you want. It’s a mullet,” Colin said fondly while very gently cleaning her face with his tie and pressing a kiss into her cheek. “You look butch. I like it.”

“Ian,” Mandy called, smiling at Colin. “Can I bring these two weepy little bitches?” 

Ian picked up Mandy’s bag and looked at him with a soft, questioning smile. He shrugged. It would feel good to have his siblings in the house tonight. 

“Alright, listen up. Anyone of you fart, and I mean one damn fart, and everybody is getting kicked out except Mickey and Mandy,” Ian warned with a smile, linking hands with him. 

At their place, Colin ordered a ton of UberEats from every restaurant within a mile and they got comfortable down to their t-shirts and boxers. He knows the circumstances are different, but it felt like it did when Terry left for long stretches and they’d buy fast food with the money they pooled together. It’s how they celebrated the gift of peaceful days and no fresh bruises.

He smiled when Mandy padded out of their bathroom wearing one of Ian’s shirts, looking adorable and small. With a burger in her mouth, she whipped out a bottle of black nail polish and shook it while eyeing her brothers meaningfully. He knows what’s coming and her habit, born out of a need to self soothe, is exactly what they need.

He and his brothers took off their socks and while they ate, laughed and drank, Mandy painted their toes. It broke his heart a little to see her shoulders relax with each painted toe, a reminder of how she used to cope.

Ian bounced questioning eyebrows at him while Mandy painted Iggy’s toes.

“Mandy would paint our toes when she was upset,” he explained. “Been doing it since she was like what, Col?

“Four?” Colin answered. 

“Three,” Iggy chimed in, pointing a drumstick at Mandy. “I had more paint in between my toes than my actual fucking toenails.”

Mandy threw a french fry at him.

“Better than what you got between your goblin toes now. Was that dryer lint in there?” she asked, moving on to start on Colin’s toes.

“Could be. Or it could be cat hair. I like the mystery.” Iggy wiggled his now black-painted toenails. “Speaking of mystery, what’s up with your bare toes? Never saw you go one day without painted toes when you were home.”

Mandy smiled. “Stopped needing to do it. That should tell you something about my level of peace, yeah?” She started painting Mickey’s toes next. “Who wants to play Dead Body?” 

Ian swallowed his bite of cheeseburger, eyes popped wide. “Dead body?” he parroted weakly.

“Yeah. When we were little, we used to compare the times we all saw a dead body,” Iggy said, eating a slice of pizza. 

“You did this, why?” Ian asked. 

“Because, it was better than comparing bruises,” Mickey murmured, forking into his burrito bowl, toenails painted coffin black now. He doesn’t hate it.

Ian gave him such a soft, sad look, Colin scoffed.

“Of all the brutal shit we endured, seeing a dead body was like getting hit in the face with a pillow. Don’t sweat it, Ian,” Colin dismissed. “I’m going first. Mattara, alley. Gut stuck.”

“My turn,” Iggy said. “Lipotzik, train tracks. Froze to death. They had to crack his ass in half.”

“Don’t know her name,” Mandy said, “But, the girl who OD’d in the massage parlor. I saw them taking her out.”

He wasn’t going to join this game, especially because he’d never told anyone about it. But, now that his mother was truly gone, it didn’t feel like telling someone else’s secret. Not anymore.

“I saw Mom dead once. I mean before this time. She died twice.” 

His quiet comment silenced the room. Poor Ian. His face crumpled when he realized that Mickey wasn’t joking. 

“What are you talking about?” Mandy asked, sticking the nail polish brush back in the bottle. 

He looked at his painted toes while he spoke. 

“I got up one night. Had to pee real bad. I used to hold it because even a toilet flushing would set off Terry if he was trying to outsleep a hangover.”

Mandy scooted closer. Iggy and Colin did the same, food forgotten. He went on, speaking from a place of surreal memory. 

“I couldn’t hold it though, so I went into the bathroom. The first thing I saw were her feet. They were pruney and blue looking. Wet too. She was all wet.”

Ian got up and sat behind him, tucking him into the vee of his legs. 

“She wasn’t moving and Terry was kissing her. Or, I thought it was kissing at the time. I realized later he was giving her, you know, mouth to mouth or whatever. See, he’d … he’d pulled her out of the tub where she’d drowned herself.” 

Of all the heavy things he’d wanted to lay to rest today, this secret had to be heaviest.

“Terry kept giving her mouth-to-mouth. He didn’t even notice me standing there. I … I pissed myself when I saw her face.” He inhaled shakily. “Her eyes were open and she wasn’t blinking. She was just … blue.”

Colin and Iggy exchanged grim looks, but said nothing. 

“I must’ve said something. Maybe called her name. Terry kept pressing on her chest and snarled at me to get out. I couldn’t leave so I kind of squatted down and grabbed her cold foot thinking I could help him. Maybe help her.” 

Ian entwined his arms around his waist, and leaned him back into his chest while he finished in a rush, wanting it out and over. 

“She eventually blinked, coughed up a shit ton of water and started breathing again. She saw me and the first thing she did was shove Terry away, told him to get out. When he did, she put me in the same water that she’d drowned herself in, crying the entire time she washed me. Later, Terry told me if I said anything about what happened, everyone would know it was my fault. I knew that wasn’t true, but it felt like it was. At the time. Eventually I didn’t have to say anything because she left a month after that.”

He didn’t cry with the memory. Maybe because it hadn’t felt like a memory at all. It was more like a dream. Blue, cold and unreal in all its horrible detail. 

Colin broke the hold the memory had on him. “Christ, if I could bring Terry back to beat him to death, I would.” 

Iggy took an emotional swig of the Jack Daniels he was clutching, face red and working. “Me first, you second. That fucking fuck.” 

Mandy tossed back the rest of her wine. “Me first and the two of you can hold him.” 

“I’m calling the roster,” Ian interrupted, squeezing Mickey tight. “Mickey gets the first punch, then Iggy and Colin can hold him after they’re done so Mandy can kick him in those two shriveled things he used to call his nuts.” Ian gave his temple a hard kiss. “Me last so I can be the one to wiggle my big, gay dick at him in farewell.”

His brothers and sister held their silence for a single beat before falling into wild laughter. But, instead of laughing himself, he gave Ian a soft, sad kiss of understanding. Ian looked a little pale despite his effort to joke. The story had affected him too. He can see it in the tightness around Ian’s eyes. His story was one of the horrible things they had in common - children of mothers who got a second chance after giving up completely, but who had to leave their children to survive.

“You okay?” he asked Ian, cupping his face. “I probably shouldn’t have brought that up. I wasn’t trying to trigger whatev-” 

Ian pulled him closer and kissed his forehead, his eyes and his mouth last. 

“There. That worry right there. That’s how I know I couldn’t have picked a better husband.” Ian kissed his nose. “I’m good, baby.”

The Milkovich siblings watched this exchange silently, but exploded into gagging noises when Mickey kissed Ian three times in succession, surprising him. Again, today was that kind of day.

“Death makes both of you literal pussies,” Iggy said, laying down to put his head on Mandy’s lap.

“Seeing as how all you do is chase and admire pussy, what you’re really saying is that you want what they have,” Mandy retorted, bouncing Iggy’s head. 

Iggy opened his mouth to argue, but shrugged instead and settled for stealing a fry off Mandy’s plate.

“He definitely wants what they got. But, it takes him twice as long to chase pussy, and when he finally gets some, he’s in that shit for like a minute,” Colin said, slapping Iggy’s foot. “One minute, motherfucker.”

That’s all it takes. Iggy’s up and wrestling Colin while Mandy laughs and picks up her wine to avoid its destruction. Ian calls out a foul hold every now and then, tucking Mickey into his chest to avoid the wild foot swings. 

He smiled, watching it all from the safety of Ian’s arms. This wasn’t a repass that anyone would find dignified and he doesn’t give a shit. This was healing. As healing as any monotone gathering where cookie cutter condolences just made you feel oily and ill at ease.

This was what his mother would’ve wanted. Food, laughter. Love. No eulogy could've honored her more than this.

They stayed up late enough to finish the booze and food. Mandy claimed the couch and the boys curled up on the armchair and floor in front of the fireplace. He checked on them a few times before letting himself be pulled to bed where he lay, eyes hot and unblinking. 

The story he’d told had shaken something loose inside him that he couldn’t quite knit back together. His mother was gone for real. No pruney toes. No gout of coughed up water. No tears as she cleaned him in the water of her death.

She was gone.

Ian settled close to him, and the small lump in his throat became a boulder. It forced him to cry to alleviate the pressure, or so he told his cowardly soul. His tears turned into sniffling. Soft sobs, helplessly cried into Ian’s chest, followed. The quiet crying became harsh barks of pain and he curled into Ian trying to escape it all. Ian took him in his arms and cupped the back of his head to murmur nonsensical sounds of comfort. If only it was as simple as that. Soft words and a firm hug to clear away the pain. God, he wished it was that easy.

A soft knock on their bedroom door preceded Mandy padding in. His crying must’ve called her. It always did. Even when it meant she might catch a beating, Mandy always slipped into his bed  and hugged him until he stopped crying.

She did the same thing now, climbing over Ian to lay on his other side. She put an arm around his waist and he cried harder. For her, for his mother. For all of them.

Another soft knock. Iggy and Colin padded in with pillows and blankets. They settled down on the floor on either side of the bed without saying a word. Ian, God bless him, just smiled into his hair and gave him a squeeze, letting him know it was alright. 

After everyone settled down, the room was quiet and filled with the blue-tinged light of the moon and their collective breathing. 

“I think it goes without saying that we expect y’all not to fuck while we’re in here,” Colin said quietly from the floor. 

Iggy snorted from the other side of the bed. Soon, they were all laughing. 

Ian leaned over, kissed Mandy on the cheek, leaned down over her to slap Iggy on the chest then leaned all the way back to slap Colin on the top of his head. When he settled back down, he gave Mickey the softest, sweetest kiss. It was exactly what he needed. This closeness is what they all needed. 

As he started to fall into sleep, a gentle, almost melodic fart rang out. The bed shook as he, Ian and Mandy struggled not to be the first to laugh aloud.

“I can still stay, right Ian?” Iggy whispered from the floor, his plea a confession. 

They all dissolved into giggles, hissed softly between teeth. It was cleansing, this infantile humor. It was also a way for motherless children to find comfort and laughter in the dark.

“Yeah,” Ian said, breathing soft laughter into Mickey’s hair. “You can stay.”

He hid his face in Ian’s neck to let the warm pulse there soothe him towards sleep. He faded to the sound of the occasional laugh from his family, glad he was surrounded by the people who love him. 

And he can’t be sure, but just as he made his final descent into sleep, he felt something that eased his pain enough for him to sink into unconsciousness. 

A kiss, soft and sweet, pressed into the back of his neck.

[bloomingapricots]

The Cunning Cat and Lazy Fox

Updated here first at AO3

I wrote this at work and I’m hella tired so sorry if a bit of my unhingedness bleeds in this

Might change the chapter title later

Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 (Here) | Chapter 5

Chapter Four | The Hamster’s Polar Bear Meeting the Fox and Fighting the Cat

Your date with Shen Jiu went well. The banquet at the village chief’s home was delicious and everyone in Peony village was so kind and generous. Shen Jiu ate a lot on the insistence of the kind aunties and you were able to encourage him to dance with you. Currently, both of you are sitting at “Lover’s Lake” which is a short walk from the village chief’s house and it is a popular spot with couples as there is a tradition of couples releasing boat lanterns with their names written together onto the lake. And even though the lantern sunk once it reached the middle, it is said to be a good thing and not a bad thing as it means the lantern will stay at the bottom forever which means the couple’s love will remain forever.

“A very typical couple spot,” You commented after releasing a lantern with Shen Jiu on the lake and then sitting at a bench nearby.

“Agreed,” Shen Jiu replied.

“At least the boat lanterns are made of peony petals instead of paper and the candles are made from soybean so the land’s balance isn’t thrown off,” You added. “And it is interesting that as long as the boat lantern sinks in the middle, it is not a bad fortune for the couple,”

“And our boat just reached the middle,” Shenn Jiu stated.

“Yeah,” You replied. You and Shen Jiu watched intently as your boat lantern floated in the center of Lover’s Lake and slowly sank to the bottom. There was a brief ripple of light from the center of the lake. You and Shen Jiu remained quiet as the both of you stared at the lake as other couples’ boat lanterns arrived at the center, sunk, a rippled of light appeared, and repeated again and again. “I guess this is what makes Lover’s Lake different from the water couple’s spot,”

“... A-Duzhe,” Shen Jiu called out after a moment of silence.

“Yeah,” You replied.

“A-Duzhe must… better stay with Jiu-er or he will imprison you, A-Duzhe is after all responsible for Jiu-er,” Shen Jiu stated after grabbing your right hand.

“Ahahah alright, A-Duzhe will stay with Jiu-er till he no longer needs me,” You replied, locking your fingers together with Shen Jiu. The two of you sat at the lake till the banquet came to an end.

—

After returning to Cang Qiong Sect then Qing Jing Peak and giving your report to you Shizun. You gave him his herbs and a bag of white peony tea leaves as a souvenir from your trip with Shen Jiu.

“Has disciple Shen Jiu seduced you enough?” Your Shizun teased.

“Is that rumor still going around?” You huffed.

“Getting caught by disciple Liu Mingcheng and the gossip spread by disciple Qi Ziyuan and her martial siblings has done large damage to his reputation. Head Disciple A-Duzhe should have nipped it in the bud,” Your Shizun stated.

“This disciple understands his wrongdoing, this disciple will collaborate with Shen Jiu-shidi to strategize scheme to make that rumor disappear,” You bowed to your Shizun.

“This master is looking forward to it,” Your Shizun smiled. Tomorrow you will have to be more proactive in getting Shen Jiu the reputation, achievement, and skill to surpass you into becoming the head disciple of Qing Jing Peak.

—

What started out as a normal day. Waking up with Shen Jiu in bed with you, training your junior siblings, doing your errands for your Shizun, tense tea time with Yue Qi, and trying to hang out with Shang Huaisang. When you went to hang out with your hamster of a junior brother to talk strategy for fixing Shen Jiu’s reputation at a small house you had built just for your rendezvous with Shang Huaisang, his wet dream of a man happened to be there. It did not end well, in fact, you just fucked yourself to the demon world and your one-way home is ready to kill you. The future Mobei-jun is glaring at you as the two of you are cramped in a small cave hiding from his uncle. Just your luck, at least you know you will at least get something noteworthy at the end of this.

“For fuck sake, Xiao Bei, did you really think you would not be discovered when you visit my Shang-shidi?” You cursed in English before glaring at the chest in front of you. The cave was really small as you were pressed right up against Mobei-jun, you have started to call him Xiao Bei since he is not the northern desert king yet and to be a little menace, as well as the irony because of his demon heritage he was really tall. Your face is inches from his chest, no doubt Airplane-bro will whine when he hears this from you.

“Yours?” Xiao Bei questioned.

“Yes mine, Shang Huaisang is my Shidi and friend,” You tilt your head up with a challenging glare at Mobei-jun. “You better listen to my Shidi well, he is overworked as it is,” You felt his demonic qi swirl around you.

“And why should this prince listen to a lowly cultivator?” Xiao Bei questioned, you felt a claw hand at the back of your neck.

“This one is no lowly cultivator nor are they a righteous one either,” You replied, aiming your sheathed dagger at Xiao Bei’s family jewels. As you and Xiao Bei had a tense standoff, you both heard the sound of footsteps and looked over at the opening of the cave.

Appearing at the mouth of the cave was one of Linguang-Jun’s henchmen, you quickly unsheathed your dagger and launched it at the henchmen with far too much strength, the dagger sliced the henchmen’s head clean off. As you crawled out of the small cave, Xiao Bei following you, you carefully looked around for any more of Linguang-Jun’s henchmen. As you heard steps coming closer you ready your dagger but you were grabbed by the back of your uniform and dragged into a portal as you felt an arrow scratched your arm. Despite the scratch being small, you felt as if your whole arm was lit on fire and spread to the rest of your body. As you blackout from the pain, you feel cool hands on your back and under your knee.

—

As you awoke to a wail, you slowly opened your eyes. It’s really cold, you thought. As you sat up, the first thing you saw was Shang Huaisang sobbing and pacing.

“Shang-shidi?” You groaned.

“Duzhe-shixiong!” Shang Huaisang yelled and in the blink of an eye appeared by your bedside. “Shixiong! Are you okay? You no longer feel poisoned are you?” He asked.

“Ah…” You recalled an arrow grazing you as you presumably Xiao Bei pulled you with him through his portal and the feeling of being burned. You circulate your qi “No, I’m fine now,”

“Great,” Shang Huaisang sighed in relief then stared at you with dread “Now please calm down Shen-shixiong as he is in the Northern Deseret Palace, arguing with my prince and is very much about to fight him,” As you stare into your junior brother's eyes, a part of you did want to see what would happen but you can see how stress he is and you promised Shen Jiu that you would be there for him.

“Lead the way,” You sighed.

—

As you entered one of the gardens of the Northern Deseret Palace, you heard swords lashing.

“Oh no!” Yelled Shang Huaisang and he grabbed your wrist to hurry you along. In the middle of a destroyed patch of frosted willowing silver wisterias was Shen Jiu attacking Xiao Bei while Xiao Bei was just defending himself. You quickly notice that Shen Jiu now has a spiritual weapon.

“Ooo has Jiu-er gained Xiu Ya sword?” You questioned.

“YES! After accidentally entering the demon world with my prince and then getting poisoned, you were in a coma for…”

“Ah,” You can guess the sequence of events that happened while you were recovering. “I assumed I was in a coma for a concerning amount of time and you had to go to Jiu-er to help me?”

“Yeah, you were in a coma for almost three weeks. After a week of your poisoning and I as well as my prince having no idea what kind of poison it was, I went to Shen-shixiong. He was not happy, at all, but since it came to you, he agreed to cover for us and figure out the antidote.” Shang Huaisang paused for a moment and spoke more softly. “However, after giving you the antidote and still not waking after a week. I accidentally stumbled upon Shen-shixiong during a private emotional moment as he was screaming and sobbing for you to wake up as well as other things,” He sighed. “I was, of course, caught and somehow was able to comfort him, and he isn’t angry at me anymore but since you are awake now, please calm him down before he rips off my prince’s head,”

“Alright, I’ll go save you dream man,” After digesting Shang Huasiang’s info dump, you agreed to stop the one-sided battle.

—

Thinking back to this time, you were glad to be poisoned as it was the start of Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu getting closer and later sworn brothers, as well as Shen Qingqiu being comfortable in his role as a senior brother. You were pretty sure Shen Qingqiu was friends with Mobei-Jun by now, even if neither wanted to admit it, as Mobei-Jun would spend time with Shen Qingqiu when neither you nor Shang Qinghua was available. Or it could just be Shen Qingqiu threatening Mobei-Jun to come to learn politics and strategy so that Mobei-Jun won’t rely heavily on Shang Qinghua and overwork your already overworked junior brother.

[daisynik7]

hey Nikki! :) I love your kishibe fics I'm OBSESSED!! if you're still taking requests, could I request something spicy w dad's best friend! kishibe X reader? hope you are doing well, sending all my love ❤️

cw: age gap (reader is younger, I’d say mid-20s, early 30s, Kishibe is late 40s, early 50s), reader has a dad that is newly single (parents divorced), smut – dirty talk, PIV sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, sex without a condom

Author’s Note: Hi my sweet, lovely anon! Thanks so much for reading my Kishibe fics and for requesting this DELICIOUS idea! I hope you are doing well too, sending you all my love right back! Wanted to get this out today because where I’m at, it’s Father’s Day and I thought this request was VERY fitting for the occasion. Sorry if there are any mistakes or typos, I wrote this in a rush because I’m so excited to post it, hehe. Enjoy! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.

“Happy Father’s Day!” 

You greet your father at the door, backpack heavy on your shoulders, balancing two boxes of pizza in one hand and carrying a case of beers in the other. It’s the most stereotypical dad meal you could have thought of, and lucky for you, it’s exactly what your father wants. 

He smiles, holding out his arms to wrap you in a big hug. “Hi, honey. Thanks for coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, dad,” you respond, grinning. 

It’s his first Father’s Day since the divorce. Your dad moved out two hours away from your hometown where you currently live, near your mother. While it was mostly amicable, it still hasn’t been easy for either of them. You’ve done your best to spend time with them equally, but with him living farther away, it hasn’t always been fair on his end. So, you packed a bag full of extra clothes and your work laptop, deciding to stay over at his place to keep him company. Surely, he’s been lonely, right?

Well, apparently not. On your way, he called to inform you last minute that his so-called “best friend”, Kishibe, will be joining you for dinner tonight. That’s why you had to order two pizzas instead of one, as well as a case of twelve beers instead of six. Because supposedly, Kishibe is a heavy drinker. You’ve never heard of this man before. It was bound to happen though; your parents used to be best friends with each other, and now that they’ve split, they need to make new friends. Still, you’re uncertain if this Kishibe guy is a good influence on your precious father. Tonight will be the test. 

Before he lets you go, he whispers, “Kishibe’s already here, so I’ll introduce you.”

“How did you even meet this guy?” you ask in a hushed voice.

“At a bar,” he answers, nonchalant, leading you into the kitchen. His answer already has you suspicious of this fellow. 

Inside, you spot a well-built man sitting at the dining table, dressed in a white dress shirt and black tie. Immediately, you notice the piercings on his ears, then the prominent scar across his cheek. His appearance is striking, but you don’t let your guard down, inspecting him carefully as you set the food on the table.

“Honey, this is my friend, Kishibe. Kishibe, this is my daughter.” He says your name, waving his hands between you and this stranger. 

Kishibe stands up, his stature impressive compared to yours, and holds his hand out, repeating your name in a gruff voice. “Nice to meet you.”

You swallow hard, surprised by his low, and honestly sexy, voice. Shaking his hand firmly, you reply, “Likewise,” trying to play it cool. 

His fingers are rough against your soft skin. He holds you a second longer than necessary, letting go only when your dad clears his throat, announcing, “Well, dinner is served! Dig in, big guy.” Your dad pats Kishibe’s back happily, handing him a paper plate and a bottle. 

You mentally shake away any inappropriate thoughts you’re having about this man, who is still a mysterious stranger that your dad is clearly smitten with, enough to consider him his best friend. You make it your mission tonight to figure him out, see if he has any ulterior motives. 

With slices on each of your plates and beers in your hands, you start the interrogation. “So, Kishibe. How did you and my dad meet?”

He shrugs, tipping the bottle into his mouth before responding, “At a bar.”

You pause, waiting for a further explanation. When none comes, you ask, “Care to elaborate?”

Your dad chuckles. “Well, I noticed him playing pool by himself, so I asked if I could join him, and he said yes.”

“He’s terrible at it, by the way,” Kishibe adds, grinning while he nudges your father in the elbow.

“I never said I was good! Anyways, we started seeing more of each other and decided to be drinking buddies. Ever since your mom and I split up, it’s been hard for me to make friends. So, I’m actually glad I met this guy. It’s not so lonely anymore.” Your dad gives you a shy smile, patting Kishibe on the back again, who nods in acknowledgment. 

Okay, you have to admit this is endearing. Your father seems happy to have this new companion in his life. How bad can he be? Maybe your resolve is weakening just a tad.

A little more relaxed now, you share some memorable childhood stories about your father, including the time he lost you in the grocery story because he was too enthralled by the free samples. “He cared more about getting cheese than he did about his own daughter,” you joke, tossing a bottle cap at him.

“Princess! You gotta give me more credit than that! I was trying to get you some cheese too!”

At the pet name, Kishibe smirks at you. “Princess, huh?”

Before you can say anything, your dad blurts out, “She hates it when I call her that! But she really is my little princess!” He grabs your head to give you a wet smooch on the cheek, probably tipsy now. He’s always been such a lightweight.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Dad, I’m too old now to be your little princess.”

He pouts at you. “Fine. I’ll try to stop. I hope you know you’re breaking this old man’s heart, though.”

Kishibe listens to the two of you with intrigue, chuckling along as he sips on his beer. Despite his seemingly stoic appearance, he’s actually easy to talk to. You feel almost guilty for judging him so quickly.

With most of the pizza eaten and half the case of alcohol consumed, Kishibe stands up, reaching for his jacket. “I should head home now. It’s getting late.”

“Nonsense! Stay the night! I’ve got extra clothes you can borrow. You can sleep on the couch,” your father suggests.

He doesn’t respond right away, averting his gaze to you when he eventually asks, “Are you sure that’s okay?” 

Your dad faces you. “Honey, that’s okay with you, right?”

Usually, you don’t like being put on the spot like this. But you genuinely don’t mind it, so you answer, “That’s fine with me.” 

Both men smile at you, your dad grinning extremely wide. “It’s a sleepover! Should we build a fort?” You and Kishibe laugh, tossing more bottle caps at him. 

The three of your spend the next hour cleaning up the kitchen and chatting a while longer. By the time it’s almost midnight, your dad disappears into his room to gather sheets and pillows for Kishibe. The two of you stand alone in the kitchen, leaning against the counter. 

You look at him, smiling. “Thank you for being so nice to my dad. He seems a lot happier now.”

He meets your gaze. “I like hanging out with him. He’s a good guy.”

Without taking your eyes off him, you say, “You’re a good guy, too.”

Smirking, he scoots closer to you, elbows brushing. “How do you know?”

You shrug, leaning towards him, arms touching now. “I can just tell.”

He bows his head, lips inches from your ear, whispering, “I’m actually insane. You should be careful with me.”

Before you can react, your dad’s voice rings from the other room. “Kishibe! I’ve got you set up in here!”

You watch as he leaves quickly without another word, your heart pounding in your chest. Not from fear, but excitement.

~~~

In the guest room, you lay in bed in your pajamas, staring up at the ceiling. It’s past 1 AM now, whatever buzz from the alcohol completely gone. You can hear the faint snores of your father from down the hall, listening for any hint of Kishibe in the living room right outside your door. His sinister words to you in the kitchen replay in your head. You should be careful with me. You know it was meant to scare you off. But something about him has you hooked. You’re even more fascinated by him.

You turn the small lamp on beside your bed, then sneak out of your room, light on your feet as you maneuver your way in the pitch black towards the couch. 

“Can’t sleep?” Kishibe’s voice is soft in the darkness. You squint your eyes enough to make out his brawny silhouette spread on the couch. 

“I wanted to check on you. I know my dad’s couch is pretty shitty,” you reply, stepping closer to him.

He peers at you, sitting up slowly. “So you knew about this and didn’t give me a warning?”

“You seem like a big, strong man, so I thought you could handle it.”

“Well, I don’t have any other choice but to endure it, right?” His arms are crossed over his chest, studying you.

“You can always try the guest bedroom.”

“But you’re staying in there.” His voice is heavy now, tongue dense in his mouth, like he’s salivating.

You bite your lip, pussy throbbing against your panties. “There’s room for the two of us.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He gets up from the bed, towering over you. “Lead the way.”

You grab his hand, tugging him towards your bedroom, shutting the door quietly, ensuring it’s locked. Facing him, you grasp at his shirt, pulling him down for a kiss. His lips are smooth on yours, moving gracefully, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt and around your waist, fingers pulsing hot on your bare skin. His tongue glides into your mouth, swirling around yours, grazing against your teeth. He moans, thumbs slipping down to the waistband of your boxer shorts, hooking onto the elastic. “Are you sure you want this?” he asks, lips at your neck now, scattering kisses along your skin. 

You nod, running your fingers through his hair. “Yes. I want it so bad.”

“Fuck,” he swears, walking with you towards the bed. “I want to eat you out. Will you let me?”

You giggle, crawling onto the bed, face-up, spreading your legs apart. “Be my guest.”

He curses again under his breath, stripping your shorts and underwear off in one fell swoop, positioning his head between your thighs. His lips wrap around you, tongue flicking relentlessly at your clit. You cover your mouth with a pillow, moaning into it, fist bunched in his hair. It’s sloppy and wet, his spit blending in with your arousal, pussy completely soaked. You come for him, his nose pressed to your bud as his tongue laps at your leaking slit, collecting your orgasm in his mouth, swallowing every drop. When he’s done, he stands up to strip off his clothes, you following with whatever remains on you. Completely naked now, he lays beside you on the bed, kissing you with glossy lips. “Get on top,” he demands. “Taste yourself on me while I fuck you.”

Obeying, you straddle his lap, sliding his hard cock up and down your pussy before sinking down on him all the way. You lick at his lips while he thrusts up into you, hands gripped firmly at your hips. “Fuck, Kishibe. Right there. Oh fuck, right there,” you purr, riding him. 

“Feels good, doesn’t it princess? Feels good when I fuck you like this, huh?”

Hearing him call you that spurs you on, bouncing faster in his lap, unable to contain your moans while he fucks you rougher. “You better be quiet. You don’t want daddy to wake up and find his precious princess getting fucked by his best friend, would you?” The filth he spits into your ear has you unraveling. It’s so fucking nasty, so fucking wrong. But you don’t care. All you can think about is how fucking good it feels, being fucked into a frenzy by him. 

“Fuck, you’re tight. You’ve never had a cock this big, have you?” he growls, grinding your ass against his thighs.

“Never,” you whimper, tongue hanging out of your mouth in a fucked-out daze.

“You’re swallowing me up whole. Squeezing me so fucking hard. Fuck.” He pauses to catch his breath. 

You take control, throwing your ass back, his cock slipping in and out of you easily. Voice trembling with arousal, you tease, “Never had a pussy this tight before, have you?”

He chuckles. “You’re a bad girl. No wonder your daddy’s always worried about you.”

“You two talk about me?”

“Oh, I know all about you, princess. Been wanting to meet you for a while now. This pussy is even better than I imagined.”

You reach your fingers for your clit, close to your second orgasm. “Yeah? You’ve been fantasizing about this?”

He moans, watching you touch yourself. “You have no idea.”

For some reason, it turns you on even more, knowing he’s thought about you before this. Probably stroked his cock, picturing himself fucking his best friend’s daughter. That nasty fuck. You fucking love it. Within minutes, you’re coming together, his cum spilling from inside you as you ride out your orgasm on his cock, coating it in your creamy mess.

The two of you stay like this for a while, Kishibe cradling you in his arms, you relaxing in his gentle hold. He breaks the silence first, saying, “Your dad’s gonna kill me if he finds out about this.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose into his chest. “Well, I guess it’ll be our little secret then.”

[pilotinthestars]

the divine's plan is perfection - PilotInTheStars

rating: teen | word count: 1.8k | @today-in-fic

chapter 1 on ao3

--

The embryo transfer was on Monday. Scully had informed Mulder on Friday, before leaving for the weekend, with the same casualness as if she was going to visit her mother for lunch. Mulder had paused, not knowing what to say. He decided on a Good luck and a Call me if you need anything. And it was true. She could call him at two in the morning and he’d be there, ready to bring her what she needed, but she didn’t. 

Scully had somehow still arrived in the office on Monday morning with her hair straightened, blue blazer and skirt ironed, and lunch packed. It was as if the IVF wasn’t happening, and she went about her work as if it was a normal week for her. On Tuesday, she had even gone down for an autopsy, and he stopped by halfway through the afternoon. The smell of formaldehyde always made his stomach churn. She was unphased.

Friday had been the same so far. Scully’s suit was pressed and her hair was straightened and everything was normal until about 11:15. Her manicured nails were tapping her pen absentmindedly as she read through her case report before she twiddled it and wrote something down quickly and neatly. At that minute, she had opened a new one carefully but didn’t pick up her pen. She quickly threw it shut and excused herself from the room hurriedly.

Mulder thought that maybe she’d be back quickly, but it was soon 11:30 and she was nowhere to be found. And he was admittedly worried, especially due to the fact this week had otherwise been entirely normal up until now.

He stood up from his desk and left their office (newly returned to them) to step out into the hallway. Scully was nowhere to be found, and he turned the corner to see their janitor mopping the floor. They locked eyes and Mulder’s question was instantly answered. With a nod from the janitor, he was directed to the one-room bathroom in the basement, its lock showing a red OCCUPIED. 

Taking a deep breath, he clenched his hand into a fist and rested it on the door before knocking twice.

“Scully?” he asked gently. “Are you alright in there?”

There was a large pause. He heard a sniff, and he expected a quiet yet defiant I’m fine, Mulder. Instead, he was greeted with the click of the lock and the red quickly switching to a green VACANT. 

He quietly opened the door, surveying the room to find Scully on the floor with her back to the wall and her knees pulled up against her chest. She was surrounded by a litter of crumpled-up paper towels, a minefield in her vicinity.

Scully looked up at him, her eyes red, her mascara rubbed around her eyes.

“Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” he said, locking the door behind him. He pushed a few of the paper towels away with his foot to sit next to her on the floor. 

It would be incredibly stupid to ask if she was okay.

Scully sniffed. “It’s really silly.”

“I doubt it is.”

She wiped at her eyes and he pulled off a new square of paper towel for her to blow her nose.

“Everything about this is terrible.” He didn’t respond, and she looked up at him. “I knew it would be hard. I had to sign a million documents saying that I knew. I did so much research.”

She blew her nose again. “And I’m going about life like it’s normal.”

You don’t have to, he thought to himself, but he held her hand in his because he didn’t know what else to do.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked softly.

Another tear slipped down her cheek before landing on her pant leg. “My mother called me before I left this morning. I feel bad, I was kind of short with her. I don’t know. I think she’s supportive because… The Church doesn’t accept these things but she understands why I’m doing this. And she’s been praying for me, and she told me I should go and pray too. I could come with her to Mass this weekend.”

“Do you want to?”

Scully ripped her paper towel in half.

“I don’t know. Part of me thinks I should. But why would I ask God to do any more for me?”

Mulder knew Bill Jr. had some choice words about infertility. When her daughter Emily’s died and her nephew Matthew’s was born, he had gone on and on at dinner. Apparently he and Tara had struggled with it too, but faith in God had helped. Their wishes weren’t left ungranted.

What was the point of faith in God if he had nothing to give? Why believe in him if he was relentlessly cruel?

Mulder would travel to the ends of the earth for a lot of things. He’d find God himself if he could get an answer.

“It’s wrong of me to think the way I am,” she admitted. “It’s not that there’s anything wrong with this.” The ova, the needles, the medicine. “Plenty of people have to do it. It’s good that this even exists.” She was ever the doctor, always grateful for scientific advancement.

Two more tears fell from her eyes. “I’ve been through hell, and yet this is the worst.”

It wasn’t the careful making of a baby most couples imagined. Mulder knew it was selfish for him to think about it. Did she imagine him or someone else, someone she knew, or some stranger? 

He didn’t know what to think about any of this. He hadn’t for weeks, not when she first asked him when he had to donate his sperm at the clinic, or even during the transfer. There was something strange and delicate growing between them. A breath could shatter it.

He did know he would do anything to give her what she wanted.

Scully buried her face in her hands. “It’s not fair, Mulder.” She hiccuped. “And my hormones are everywhere. And I get upset over things I shouldn’t. Tara gave me a call the other day, and let Matthew say hello over the phone and I started to sob. I never get to see my nephew, and all he gets is me crying.”

He opened his arms and she went to them instinctively, enveloped by him and his suit jacket. Her shoulders shook and he buried his nose in her hair.

“And I’m afraid it won’t work. It’ll be for nothing.” 

His hand moved to stroke the back of her head.

“You don’t know yet.”

“It’s so hard to trust.”

It was fair. It was hard to trust. It was hard to trust the ova that had been sitting for years, magically brought to the fertility clinic. It was hard to trust that a sperm and an egg in a dish could even work. It was hard to trust that one cycle of treatment would work. 

He had nothing to comfort her. So he held her and hoped to whoever was out there that they could give Scully what she wanted. He didn’t know if he’d be allowed.

“I think you’ll feel better off the floor,” he whispered. 

She moved back, her face puffy and red. “Maybe.”

Hesitant to let her go, he stood up, letting her hand fall into his. He lifted her to her feet, handing her a fresh paper towel for her to dab her eyes. He could maybe tempt her with a milkshake, something sweet to make her feel better, a distraction from the embryo in between them, deciding if it wanted to stick around.

 “I say we take our lunch break. How about the soda shop? My treat.”

Scully nodded and took a deep breath, but went to look at herself in the mirror, wiping at where her makeup had run. 

Her routine continued, and she opened up the compact mirror from her purse to fix her power and mascara, and all the other little things that came with putting on a morning face. He’d already gotten his wallet and his keys and his fingers tapped the desk anxiously.

“How have the progesterone shots been?” he finally asked once they got back to the office and she started packing her purse. 

The words hung in the air ominously and it hit him all at once. She had never talked to him about progesterone shots. He had read it during his research when he had read about IVF until the sun finally broke over the city. In fact, he’d been wanting to ask for about a week now but had been far too cautious too.

She zipped her purse to break the silence. “Not fun.” She smiled at him. “No shots are.”

He opened the door for her as she carefully placed her bag on her shoulder. “I’ve gotten a routine down though, I looked into it. I warm up the syringe on a heating pad.” 

Of course, Dr. Dana Katherine Scully would find the most efficient and painless way of doing it. A dark part of his brain told him it was best he wasn’t there, despite how much he wanted to be. His job had been done already. He wasn’t needed.

They sat in a comfortable silence on the way to the restaurant and while Scully opted for the half-sandwich/cup-of-soup option, he got a strawberry milkshake that she gladly partook in. She seemed in a good mood, and he got her to talk about the dog her neighbors had, who she’d been walking while they’d been at rehearsals for a play, because she really did miss Queequeg, but she didn’t have time for a dog right now. Their spoons took turns scooping from the glass cup until Scully grabbed the last bite right as the bell rang and the door swung open.

A chubby little toddler stumbled into the room, his father close behind, pushing the stroller in. Scully’s back was to the door but she could hear his little babbling. The blood drained from her face and she looked down into her plate. 

He took her hand in his own, but it rested in his palm limply. “I’m going to go pay.” 

She nodded and he walked up to the front counter with a twenty. “Keep the change,” he told them and walked back over to where Scully had hurriedly put her notepad and her lipstick back in her bag. 

“Can we go on a walk?”

He nodded immediately. 

Scully slid out of the booth and kept her hand down, Mulder led her out, his hand on her back. The baby had been placed in a highchair and he turned around to see Mulder walking by. He lifted a hand to wave and smiled with all of his six teeth. Mulder found his other hand raised to give a little wave. 

The height difference between them would not allow him to see if she was crying, but when they finally got into his car he took a peek. Her face was impassive.

[restinslices]

Liar Pt2

Me finally writing the part 2?! Wow! So this part is honestly filler. It's Matthias being in his own head and meeting Nina, who will become an ally. Imma be real, nothing happens BUT LISTEN- it's setting shit up. Have faith. Enjoy his mental crisis. Druskelle!Matthias Helvar x Heartrender!Wife!Reader (she does not make an apperance-) Word Count: 2059 Summary: Ever since you've left, Matthias has had conflicting thoughts about your relationship and it's driving him insane, but an unlikely friend makes him realize not all hope is lost. Y/N - Your Name D/N - Daughter Name Link to part 1

(Lowkey should've used this gif for part 1 and part1's for this, but rip)

“Dear my love and life,

I don’t know what to say. Maybe I should say sorry again for the whatever thousandth time. I never know how to start these, so I always say I’m sorry. I wish Djel gave me the power to go back in time and fix the mistakes I’ve made. I wish I could go back and hug you when you told me about you being Grisha, instead of pushing you away. I wish I would’ve held you and told you I’d forever love you instead of calling you a witch. I wish when I woke up, I had my wife beside me and my daughter in the room next to ours. I have lots of wishes, and since I can’t change the past, I have a wish that’s selfish and cruel.

I wish you both were dead. I wish that the Druskelle had found and killed you two, or all of you instead of just Elise and Erik. 

I know I sound terrible, but not knowing where you are or how you are hurts more than you two being dead. I wish that one day, I’m sitting at home and someone comes in to say they found and killed you both.

Am I a bad person for thinking this? I’ve heard rumors about other countries. I’ve heard Ravka trains their children for war. I’ve heard Shu Han does terrible experiments on Grisha. I’ve heard in The Wandering Isle that the Kaelish kill Grisha so they can drink their blood. I’ve heard in Kerch, Grisha are put under contracts and basically become slaves. I’d rather you be dead than go through any of that. 

My love, you remember the day I proposed to you. I know you do. What you don’t know is that the night before I did so, I sat outside for hours. I couldn’t possibly sleep when I was terrified about what I was gonna do. I saw a star that shined brighter than the others, and for some reason, I thought it could be Djel watching over me. I prayed and begged Djel to convince you to say yes, and you did. 

Maybe that’s what I’m doing wrong. Maybe I’m too busy wishing, instead of praying, but I haven’t felt like praying in so long. Maybe if I find that star again, he’ll hear me better like he did the first time. Maybe I’ll get another chance and we’ll all run away. Maybe-”

“Anything going on up there?” the Grisha woman asked.

Matthias found himself writing a lot since you left. Not in some diary though. He’d write letters to you and his daughter, then throw them in the fireplace and watch it be engulfed in flames. 

At first the letters were angry and full of betrayal. You lied to him for years. You used him. That’s what he thought at first.

It had been days and you hadn’t been caught. He happened to have paper and ink around him, so he wrote this letter filled with insults, profanities and accusations, then he threw it in the fireplace. Although he wrote all this down, about how you were a liar and a witch, he didn’t go with the druskelle to try and capture you. Others assumed that your “witchcraft” made him still feel sick, but in reality, Matthias knew deep down that if he saw you he wouldn’t be able to take the shot. He would’ve been expected to either kill or capture his ex wife and child and he knew he couldn't. You were his love, and once your daughter was born, you both promised each other to make her number one in your lives. You’d raise her with love and guidance and make sure she never knew a lonely day. You even promised each other that if one was to die, the other had to keep going everyday even if they didn’t want to. You both promised to make her your whole life. Now he was expected to forget all about that. He wanted to forget all about you, but he couldn’t.

His letters went from angry to pleading. Sometimes his letters would be destroyed by his own tears before it even reached the fire. This especially happened whenever an important date passed, like your daughter’s birthday. It hit him hard then. The loneliness became more apparent. Matthias had quit being a Druskelle, telling Brum some bullshit about how his head still didn’t feel right and he didn’t want to mess something up. In reality, being a Druskelle didn’t feel right anymore. His brothers gave him sympathy, saying you were evil and he was strong for realizing this and breaking out of your spell, but it didn’t make sense. When people look back at their memories with a manipulator or abuser, they notice signs. They see things they didn’t see before. And while Matthias did indeed notice signs that you were Grisha, he didn’t see any signs of evil. 

Matthias knew you even before his family was killed, and you stood by him as he mourned. You stayed even when he was sure you’d leave. How could you possibly be evil? It didn’t make sense. 

Matthias doesn’t know why he accepted Brum’s offer to go on another exploration. Maybe it was loneliness. He had practically isolated himself for two years. No more you. No more D/N. No more brotherhood.

Or maybe he was hoping somehow they’d find you and he’d be able to escape with you.

Either way, he accepted. A mistake.

The boat ended up sinking and Matthias was sure he’d die, until he suddenly felt his heart speeding up in his chest. When he came to, he realized one of the Grisha, a heartrender with brown hair and a smart mouth, had saved him. Granted, it was just so he could push them to shore, but at least he was breathing.

They found a hut, slept by each other, and that’s when he realized two things.

Number one, your wedding ring, which he always kept in his pocket, was gone.

Number two, when the woman sped his heart up so he stayed warm, it felt familiar. It was how he felt when he laid next to you. He always assumed that maybe his heart beat so fast because being near you was the greatest honor and he hadn’t gotten used to it. He’d still say that was true, but the reality was that you used your power to keep him warm every single night. If he hadn’t been around someone, he might’ve cried.

He heard fingers snapping next to his ear. “Druskelle? Anyone up there?”.

Matthias blinked hard to snap himself out of his thoughts, then cleared his throat. His eyes had been on the fire in front of him the whole time, as if he could burn his letter like he usually did. He looked to the side as the woman sat next to him. He couldn’t even remember what they were talking about.

It was as if she read his mind since next she said, “you were telling me all about Fjerdan woman then you stopped. Hoping one appears?”.

“Yes” he answered without thinking.

~~~

Matthias refused to answer any of her questions. In all honesty, she was annoying him. She was incredibly nosey and kept insisting they were lost, but they couldn’t have been lost because Druskelle didn’t get lost! All trees look the same! Rocks look the same! A certain patch of snow looked the same as other patches of snow!

They were lost. Dammit.

Matthias sat on a big rock with a flat top in defeat. What good was being alive if they were just gonna freeze to death?

The woman sat next to him, “I’m gonna ask a few questions if you don’t mind”.

“I do mind”.

“What’s your name? I like ‘Dumb Druskelle’ but surely you were born with something else. Todd? A Kevin maybe? James?”. Matthias hated she gave the same comfort a friend would. It was strange. He didn’t know her, but he had been so lonely that he enjoyed having someone else near. And if he was gonna die, he wouldn’t mind dying with someone else. 

Although Matthias was silent, she kept going. “Who’s back home for you?”.

“No one” he thought.

The woman pulled something out of one of her pockets and presented it to him. It was your wedding ring, the one he thought probably sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Before he could speak she said “I grabbed it before it sunk too far. Figured I could use it as leverage to make you get us to shore, but you agreed before I could”. Matthias took it and since no one he knew was around, he put it back on.

Some people prefer the feeling of a weight lifting off of them, but he preferred the weight the ring added to his finger even if it wasn’t that huge of a change. The woman was still looking at him then he had an idea. If she was Ravkan and you ran there, maybe she knew you! He asked her if he knew a woman fitting your description with a child that had recently came to Ravka. When she said she was usually in and out of the palace, but had gotten a letter from a friend who mentioned a new Grisha with a child he felt conflicted. On one hand, this could’ve been you and this meant you were safe. On the other hand, this meant his daughter was probably being trained to become a soldier for whatever other war Ravka would join. 

She made a sarcastic remark, asking if he had been hunting this woman also and she happened to get away. He spilled his guts then. He told her everything. How you met, how you were always there for him, how you fell in love, your marriage, your child, the incident, him turning on you. All of it. It felt amazing to say out loud to someone else.

“You had an incredible wife but chased her and your child away? Remember when I said there was a brain inside all that muscle? I lied”. He didn’t argue. What was the point? “What would you do if you managed to see her or your child again?”.

He thought about this every night and he still didn’t know. He’d apologize but what then? Let you go? Beg for another chance? What if you had met someone else by now? “I don’t know” he answered honestly “but I’d beg for as long as she wanted me to”.

“You do realize that you were gonna kill more Grisha on that boat right?”

“You would go on trial”

“Your trials are a sham, we’ve been over this. The loneliness won’t end by becoming a Druskelle again. You and I both know it”. Matthias went quiet again as he thought. He hated she was nosey, he hated that everything that came out her mouth was sarcastic or said with an attitude, but more importantly 

He hated she was right.

“I have known one way my entire life. I don’t know how to be anything else. I… I don’t know if I can be better”.

“It’s possible” she said. She stood and moved so she was in his view. “Get on your feet-”. It all happened so quick then. She backed up, then all Matthias heard was the ground crumbling and her screams. He dived down, catching her hands. 

She pleaded for Matthias to pull her up and for a split second, he thought he’d let her fall. 

He refused to turn his back on anyone else though.

He pulled her up and let her catch her breath on the ground. After a few seconds, he stood with his hand outstretched, “Matthias… Helvar”.

She took his hand and let him help her to her feet. “Nina Zenik. Nice to make your acquaintance”. Matthias draped one of the fur coverings he was wearing on her shoulders then they started walking again.

“You saved my life”

“I put you in chains. It was the least I could do”.

“That’s all very true, but I was going to say something before I fell”. Nina grabbed his arm, making him stop and look at her. 

“I’m going to help you find your family”.

A/N: I need to stop deciding to write at 11pm-. Anyway, did anything really happen this part? No. Lowkey this should say part 1.5 but that looks ugly so here we are. I will not procrastinate for another two months, I promise. Also I remembered that Matthias is 18 and ya'll kid is 10, so uhhh let's say the kid is 6 and ya'll are mid twenties. Imma edit the last part too, don't even worry. I think part 3 will be the last part unless I decide it's too long and split it. Taglist: @luvrrish @katie-the-bookworm @favouritefeverdream (Idk if you wanted to be tagged, but you commented so imma do it anyway)

[notsoattractivearenti]

How about some Sonny angst - maybe him being rash/stressed out n breaking up (happy ending please). Or maybe some Sonny jealous imagine - will be amusing to see mr nice guy being all jealous n petty lol

ok i’m drawn at the second idea so gonna write that one! and this turns out to be WAYYYY longer than i expected lmao thanks for sending it in 🫶🏻

ps: i tried to make it gender neutral but somehow i ended up with female reader 😅 nonetheless pls enjoy!

—

You and Sonny have been involved in an undefined relationship for a while but nobody knows about your situation. Since Sonny is a very well-known football player in the world, you both thought keeping this “situationship” private would be the best thing to do. He also was very protective of you, so he would do anything to keep you safe especially from mean comments strangers would make just because you are seeing their favorite footballer. Even though you were clearly into each other, defining your relationship was something he was kept avoiding.

One day, you two decided to meet in a pub to have some drinks after his training. You arrived there first, sat on a booth then ordered your drink and snacks. As you were waiting for your boyfriend, a random guy came over to you.

“Hey, sorry, I couldn’t help but notice a beautiful person sitting here alone. May I sit here while you wait for… a friend?”

“Um, thanks but I’m good waiting by myself.” You politely refused his offer.

“Ah, okay,” he nodded, “but uh, I have to ask: are you single?”

“Uh…”

That simple question got you startled. Am I single? But I don’t think I am… Yet Sonny has never called me his girlfriend, hasn’t he? You thought to yourself.

Sonny walked into the pub and saw you – and the guy who was hitting on you. He frowned, why the fuck that guy leaning close to Y/N like that? He came closer and sat on the booth behind you, trying to eavesdrop the conversation.

Little did he know, you could smell his perfume. You knew he was there, yet he acted like he was being incognito. You thought this was an opportunity to see whatever reaction you might be getting from him.

“Why do you want to know whether I’m single or not?”

“Because you’re so fine and usually girls like you aren’t single,” he replied, “but lucky me if you are.”

You wanted to vomit but you had to act cool, you still haven’t had any reaction from Sonny.

“Oh wow, if I am what would you do?”

“I want to ask you out on a date, maybe… Soon?”

Good God, say something Sonny! You were pretty upset that he was still silent. What you didn’t know was that Son was already annoyed and about to be filled with rage – and ever since you first got to know him, he was always that “Mr. Nice Guy” people love so much.

“Here,” the guy grabbed a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket then hand it to you, “would you write down your name and number?”

You hesitated to give him your name let alone your number, so you wrote your real name but fake phone number.

“I’ll call you later,” he looked at the paper, “Y/N.”

As the guy walked away, Sonny moved away from his booth and came over to you – pretending he just arrived.

“Hey, sorry I’m late” He said flatly as he sat down across you.

“That’s fine.”

“So, was that guy a friend of yours I didn’t know about?”

“What guy?” You acted confused. “Oh, that guy? Nah, he was just hitting on me.”

“Oh,” he tried to hide his jealousy, “what did he say?”

“Doesn’t matter…” you paused. “Does it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know.”

“Did he ask for your number too?��

“Matter of fact, he did. And I gave it to him.”

He went silent for a while before murmuring “Good for you.”

Instead of being chatty like always, he barely said anything. He seemed very visibly upset but he wouldn’t admit he was jealous.

“Okay, I’ve had enough. If you have something you want to tell me, please, tell it to my face!” You confronted him.

He took a deep breath, trying not to lose his mind.

“I… I don’t like the fact that you gave another guy a chance to date you!”

“And why is that??? I mean, you can’t even call me your girlfriend! I don’t even know what we are!”

“I- You know what, that’s it.”

He got off his seat and walked over to the guy who hit on you before.

“Hey buddy, I’m gonna have to ask for my girlfriend’s numbers back.” He said to the guy as he pointed at you.

You heard him referring to you as “my girlfriend” for the first time and you felt happier than ever.

“Sorry, but she said she was single?”

“Well that’s my fault for not telling her soon, but she is not. She’s my girl and no one has a chance with her but me.”

“No,” the guy refused, “she gave it to me and I deserve to keep it.”

Sonny was about to lose his mind until you dragged him away before anything he would regret happened.

“Don’t be stupid, I didn’t gave him my real number.” You said quietly.

He looked confused. “Wha- Huh? Why?”

“I knew you were listening the whole time yet you didn’t do anything the whole time. I was just messing with you… Though I kinda regret it now.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair. Please don’t do that ever again.”

You smiled and kissed him.

“Of course I won’t… You’re my boyfriend now.” You said softly.

“Although…” you smirked, “you look hot when you’re jealous.”

His cheeks turned red. “Y/N… Stop!”

[misc-obeyme]

Cc BELOVED

Hello!!! I see for your event my two loves are already locked in (Arv, I see you slamming that button for Barbatos thank you for your service

What if I requested ink for Aresenios? Sksksksk sorry I’m in love w your OC

Or diavolo! If we’re sticking with originals characters

Ily bb SMOOCH

AH SILVER ILY. Yes, I am fully accepting requests for Arsenios, so I definitely wrote it with him. (Sorry Dia...) Thank you so much, I'm so happy that you like him!

I really enjoyed writing this, too, but of course because it's Arrie and I love writing about him lol!

Thank you for participating!

COZY COMFORTS EVENT

GN!MC x Arsenios (OC) with prompt ink

Warnings: none!

You had been sitting a few seats down from Arsenios at a large table in the RAD library for some hours now. He hadn't even looked up when you sat down, completely absorbed in the papers in front of him. You didn't see any books, so you didn't think he was studying. He was relaxed, but his eyes never once left the paper. He was writing something with what appeared to be a fountain pen.

You didn't worry about it, pulling out your own books to start studying for your next exam. Every once in a while, you couldn't help peeking over at him, but he never looked up.

That is, until he finally did.

And then you were met with purple grey eyes full of curiosity and you suddenly wondered if he had been aware of you the entire time.

"You've been here for hours," he said. "Have you taken a break? You should drink some water."

You reached into your bag, pulled out your water bottle, and shook it slightly to demonstrate that it was only partly full. "Don't worry," you said. "I thought of that. Anyway, it's not like you've moved at all since I got here. Do demons not need water?"

Arsenios smiled and put his hands up. "You got me," he said.

You noticed the smudges of ink across his palms. "What have you been doing anyway?" you asked. "You have ink all over your hands."

Arsenios looked down at his hands, turning them over briefly before turning back to the pages on the table. "I was writing a song," he said. "Got caught up in it, you know? Didn't realize I was getting ink on myself. Maybe my pen has a leak?"

He picked up the pen and began to inspect it.

You sighed, taking pity on him. You took out your water bottle and a handkerchief. Then you moved a few seats down so you were sitting next to him.

"Here, let me try this," you said. You dampened the handkerchief with water and then took one of his hands.

For a moment you were distracted by the warmth of his skin and the pattern of the black magic circle tattoo on the back of it. There was a black smudge across it - ink on ink. You began to wipe at it, hoping some of it might come off.

You could feel Arsenios's eyes on you. All this time, they had been fully occupied by the sheets on the table. Now they were looking at you with that same intensity. You felt the blush creeping up your cheeks and you didn't notice how the water did nothing to remove the ink stains on his hands.

Arsenios put his free hand over yours - the one still wiping at his light brown skin with the handkerchief. Now all you could see were your hands entwined with his. You took in the tattoos, the splotches of ink, the nails painted grey.

"MC," Arsenios said, his voice somehow making your name sound like a symphony.

You looked up and saw an amused expression. It was a slightly crooked smile and gleaming eyes.

"That won't work," he said. "I can't get fountain pen ink off my fingers even when I scrub them with soap. I just have to wait a few days and it will fade on its own. I appreciate you trying, though."

You realized that meant you could move away. You could pull back your hands and go back to your seat where your books awaited you. But you couldn't bring yourself to move, caught in his touch.

Arsenios reached out to place his fingertips gently against your cheek. You should have turned away then, but instead you found yourself leaning into his hand. Your eyes closed almost of their own accord and your body involuntarily sagged. It was as though you'd been hit with a wave of fatigue that you'd been fighting off for the last hour of your study session.

"Let me walk you home, MC," Arsenios said. "You need to get some rest."

You didn't protest. You let him pull you to your feet, his hand holding onto yours as he gathered your things, shouldering your bag himself. He didn't let go until you were at the House of Lamentation's front door.

cozy comforts | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[mama-qwerty]

The Curious Case of Miles Prower

Okay, so because I should be working on the next chapter of Fall of the Status Quo, or the next part of my Eclipse intro story, I instead wrote this. Because I can’t stop thinking about the adorable-ness that is the de-aged Tails art of @dakt37

Seriously, it’s freaking adorable. Check it out if you haven’t already.

This isn’t much, but I thought it was a good intro to the plot.

~~~~~

Sonic stared at the little two-tailed fox, currently curled and napping on the floor.

“Tails,” he muttered to himself, a tired groan mixed in with the words. “What have you done to yourself?”

The boy didn’t answer, instead curling into a tighter ball. His twin tails flicked at the tips, twitching with whatever dream the kit was having.

Running a hand down his face, Sonic heaved a sigh. His brilliant best friend slash adopted little brother usually took detailed notes about whatever invention or experiment he was working on at any given time. But sometimes—like this time, apparently—the fox got a little too caught up in his brainwork, and would only write notes once the burst of inspiration had faded.

Unfortunately, it would seem he’d never write those notes, now.

Because he was currently about three years old.

At least, that’s how old Sonic thought he was. He’d been about four when the hedgehog had originally found him, being bullied by some older kids for having an extra tail. Had he been this little then? The fox seemed littler now, but maybe it was because Sonic was older? He himself had only been about 11 when they’d met, so still just a little kid himself.

Was that only four years ago? Seemed like a much longer time. Seemed like they’d known each other forever.

Sonic sighed again, sitting heavily on a workbench stool. He glanced over the mess strewn across the bench itself—tools, papers, pencils, bits and bobs of various machines in various states of repair—and felt a sense of helplessness. “I have a system,” Tails had told him once. “I know it looks like a mess, but it makes sense to me. Don’t touch anything!”

Your ‘system’ leaves a lot to be desired, buddy, Sonic thought, glancing back at the kit on the floor. How can we fix this when we don’t even know what you were doing in the first place?

Tails gave a little squeak in his sleep, and Sonic’s ears twitched, instantly flicking toward him. The boy twitched, caught in the web of bad dreams, and a whine escaped his little throat.

Without thinking, Sonic bent to scoop the boy into his arms, bringing the kit up to cuddle against him. Tails curled tighter for a second, before uttering another squeak and turning his face into the soft fur of the hedgehog’s chest.

“You’re okay,” Sonic soothed, holding his now much littler brother close. “You’re safe. I’ve gotcha.”

Another sound left the boy’s throat, this time a kind of grunt. Then he uncurled, reaching his little arms around to cling to Sonic and hug him tight.

A lump formed in the hedgehog’s throat. Had Tails been this little back when Sonic first found him? At four, he must not have been much larger than this. What possessed him to think that he, at only 11, would be capable of taking care of someone else, especially one so young?

All their early adventures flittered through his mind then. The danger. The risks. Sure, he’d done his best to keep Tails safe and unharmed, but, again, he was ELEVEN YEARS OLD at the time. Not exactly an age that’s known for good ideas and sound decisions.

He thought about the kids around the village who were about that age, and his chest tightened. He wouldn’t trust any of them with a four year old, even in the confines of a village with other people around. Yet, he’d run around other islands, dragging a literal baby with him, without a second thought.

This stomach clenched at what could have happened. How many times Tails could’ve been hurt. Or worse. Because of his lust for adventure.

“I’m sorry, Tails,” Sonic said, his voice soft. He nuzzled Tails’ head, and the boy uttered a soft purr. “I haven’t been the best big brother. I just . . . didn’t know better. But I’ll make sure you’re taken care of now. I promise.”

Tails sighed, snuggling deeper into Sonic’s chest fur. His twin tails split, curling around either side of the hedgehog’s waist.

~~~

Like this? Check out my other snippets. Reblogs are appreciated!

[fangirlies]

Stargazing- (x.t)

Pairing: Xavier thorpe x gn!reader I dont think I used any pronouns in this one.. I can’t remember

Request: Xavier Thorpe x fem reader stargazing together plsss

Warnings: literally just too much fluff to handle. soft reader. (Please let me know if I should be aware of anything else)

A.N: fangirlies 🧚🏼‍♀️ I’m sorry. this is so cheesy but that’s right up my alley. i wrote thorpe boy as a best friend but I’m sure you could just read it as boy friend.

“every now and then, the stars align. boy and girl meet by the great design . could it be that you and me are the lucky ones? everybody told me love was blind. then I saw your face and you blew my mind. finally, you and me are the lucky ones this time” these lyrics from Lana’s ‘lucky ones’ felt fitting. here I go including lana del rey in yet another writing.

You sighed as you slammed the cover of your botanical sciences textbook shut and tossed it aside. You'd been studying for an upcoming test for so long that you could feel your brain rotting.

“Hey xav?” Trying to capture the attention of your best friend. He hasn't taken his gaze away from his sketch book since he started drawing and you began studying.

You had fun hanging out in his art shed. Being surrounded by trees and hearing the wind roar while working on school assignments has a strangely soothing affect on you. Or perhaps it was the fact that you felt so safe in the presence of your best friend. He loved having you in here, and you knew it. On some days, when he's in one of his moods and struggles to express his feelings, you end up being his muse. It wasn't one of those days today. He was so absorbed in his work that he probably didn't even remember you were there.

You called his name again, but he didn't respond, so you walked over to him and gently tapped his shoulders making an effort not to startle him. He still didn’t turn to face you. Instead, as he proceeded to run his pencil across the paper, a barely audible "hmph?" came from him.

“Do you have any extra blankets?” Although you felt awful for annoying him so much, you would soon be out of his hair. Your head hurt from the overwhelming amount of information you read about plant cells, and all you wanted to do was be outside admiring the stars. No plant cells, no thoughts, just you under the million stars. When you were feeling overwhelmed, you found yourself doing this. It always made you feel that the vastness of the world was so big that you and your troubles were so insignificant.

He quickly uttered, trying not to lose the inspiration he was currently experiencing, "bottom shelf in the cabinet."

You proceeded to the place you were instructed to look, and you took one of his blankets and a throw pillow from his couch. He truly turned this old shack into his safe haven. Decorating it to his liking and even gave you a small corner for you to decorate. You contributed with the snacks seeing as you were in here just as much as he was.

You found your usual spot outside his shed where it gave you a clear view of the sky, free of any trees obstructing your view. The absence of nearby light left the sky covered in bright, beautiful stars. The sky tonight was stunning causing a slight smile to spread across your face. You spread the blanket out and positioned the cushion beneath your head as you allowed your mind to wander. Trying to trace a straight line with the patterns of the stars.

Your train of thought was cut off, and you cocked your head to the side. On the blanket next to you, Xavier was now sitting.

“Hey, did I distract you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to” you apologized to your best friend, eyes full of worry.

He shook his head and said, "No no, I just felt lonely when I didn’t feel your presence. Besides, I think I needed to clear my mind too. Didn't realize how badly my fingers ached" Xavier twisted his fingers trying to get them to crack and suddenly found himself lying down next to you with his hands clasped together and on top of his tummy. You smiled gently at him.

“Are you going to share the pillow with me or will you leave me with a stiff neck too?” As you giggled, he gently pulled the pillow out from under your head. Causing you to slightly lift your head.

The two of you gazed silently at the twinkling of each star for a while. When it came to Xavier, you enjoyed that you didn't feel the need to keep the conversation going at all times. The mere thought of having each other by your side was enough.

“Isn’t it crazy how we both managed exist at the same time, same place?” You broke the silence.

“Please don’t make me go into an existential crisis right now. . . you always do this when we’re stargazing”

You chuckled. It's true. Your thoughts would frequently go straight to the strangest concepts.

“Xavier, do you think the moon landings were real? Be honest.”

“But xavier, think about it, we can’t be the only living species in our galaxy.. aliens are real and you can’t convince me otherwise.”

“xavi, isn’t it strange they haven’t explored the entire ocean yet? They must be hiding something from us”

“I’m serious xavi, I’m glad we found each other in this lifetime.” Tears are about to escape your eyes as you say, "You mean a lot to me.” When Xavier realized how emotional you were getting, he sneaked his hand under your head and drew you into his body. The hand under you encircled your body as you flipped to your side and laid your head on his chest.

“Hey hey, no crying when the stars are looking right at you.” You giggled at what he said. You were constantly reminded of the one time you told him those exact words when tears of frustration fell from his eyes. It now became something you told each other often as a way to comfort one another.

“You mean a lot to me too, y/n. Without you, I honestly don't know where I would be right now”. Letting out a sigh as he expressed his thoughts, Xavier was drawing tiny figures on your shoulders. Under the stars was a vulnerable place to be.

“With all your bottled frustration, you'd likely be in prison for murder, not to mention lonely.”

“That was strangely specific, but okay.”

He always managed to make you laugh.

“But seriously, y/n, I'm glad I found you in this life, and I hope I find you in the next," your best friend said, a tear streaming down your cheek at the lovely moment you two had shared.

You shifted your attention back to the flickering stars that illuminated the night sky. He was so special to you, you thought. You were sure that without him, you would not have survived some of your most difficult days at Nevermore. On your first day of school, your awkward fencing partner was someone you never imagined would mean so much to you. Being under the stars brought you nothing but peace. Or maybe it was the fact that you felt so safe around your best friend.

A.N: feed back always welcomed friends! It makes my heart explode.

if you sent in a request, I see you! waiting to get home to start working on them so I can give it my full attention.

for the bestie that sent in this request- ty. i didn’t know I needed this. i hope it was more or less what you were hoping for. thank you for requesting 🤍🦋🪴🧚🏼‍♀️

if you enjoyed this one- you might like ‘mission accomplished’ if you haven’t read it yet!

As always— requests are always open! Share your thoughts! Talk to me! Get something off your mind! ✨