#idk man. i don't realize how locked up i feel most days. but when it hits it all hits at once.

[ghost-proofbaby]

IT WILL COME BACK (E.M.)

"honey, don't feed me - i will come back."

summary: when eddie came back from the upside down, he was different. and you finally come to realize just how different the man you saved truly is one night, when push comes to shove.

pairings: kas!eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of BLOOD (in sexual manner), mentions of BITING (in sexual manner), allusions to possible coercion (consent is still explicitly stated - trust me), mentions of death and trauma, mentions of eddie's canon death, taking a lot of creative liberty with expansive vampire lore across all media, mentions of murderous dreams? (eddie dreamt about killing reader idk), oral (f receiving), smut. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY.

wc: 7.7k+

a/n: i told y'all i'd write a serious biting/blood kink fic one day - today is the day. very lazily edited so beware.

When Eddie came back from the Upside Down, he was different.

There were subtle changes at first. Small, minute details that were easy to ignore. Everyone could turn a blind eye to them — everyone figured they would fade once the boy healed. His healing was first priority, and whatever lingered after could be dealt with.

Get Eddie better. Then question all that lingers.

A simple plan. A genius plan. A torturous plan.

The two of you had been friends, if you could even call it that, prior to it all. Teasing in the hallways, working on school projects here and there when in shared classes, he was your favorite (and only) dealer when you craved something to make sleep come just a little bit easier. He had been familiar — an old ghost you'd grown comfortable with, long before you’d seen those large and wet eyes looking back up at you in the boathouse. 

Long before he’d pieced together the puzzle pieces as to why you’d needed the weed to cancel out the nightmares. Long before he’d processed exactly what those nightmares entailed.

But then, you’d fought for him. You’d fought with him. And most importantly, you’d bled with him.

God, you had bled for him. 

Something admirable had blossomed in that short time. Eddie’s entire life had fallen apart, thread by frayed thread, and that new planted emotion had been the only solid thing to emerge for him to absolutely cling to. You were more than a fellow classmate to pass by in the hallways. You were more than his favorite customer, always weaponizing fluttering lashes and puckered lips for a discount he’d have given you regardless. 

You were a force to be reckoned with, and had ignited a hunger in him like no other.

That’s all he had thought it was when he’d awoken in his living room — not the distorted version but the real one — to you screaming for the others to help you as you’d sealed his wounds. That’s all he had thought it was when you’d come to visit him as wounds turned to scars, and stabbing pains turned to hungering pangs. So he had tried to bury it, listen to Harrington and Wheeler and Buckley when they told him to take time to readjust. He’d locked away that hunger and focused on his healing, just as everyone else had, and told himself it was just residual feelings. 

Residual feelings had been bound to happen after seeing someone bloody their hands, with your own blood, for your survival. 

And in his burial, he’d never considered a similar hunger igniting somewhere deep within you.

You visited far more often than you should have. Returning time and time again to change his bandages, taking on one too many shifts at the hospital during his unconscious spells and baring your teeth for anyone who got too close. The sweet blood on your hands hadn’t washed away in that first shower; you swore, if you looked closer, you could still see the stain of nearly losing him across your knuckles. 

Physical wounds were easier to heal than the internal ones. It was easier to lather on antibiotic lotion than it was to sleep soundly at night. Both of you came to realize that quickly in the weeks that followed Eddie’s return from the dead.

His nights were plagued with bad dreams, with thirst and cravings he couldn’t quite name. He’d wake up, burning up from the inside out with a fever that never existed. Tearing skin. Puncture wounds. Blood spilling across floors and his lips alike. He could never tell if the shivers that traced his spine had been from the cruel visions that had become his nightly visitors or if it was due to his perpetual drop in temperature that had worried Nancy since the very first night home from the hospital, that had concerned the nurses who piled blankets atop him during his week long sleep of recovery. 

Your nights were even less kind. Horrific memories were the demons that haunted you — remembering the way you had watched Eddie cut that sheet rope, remembering finding him bloodied on the ground, remembering the warmth of his blood seeping across your palms and how when your ear had turned just as heated with it as you pressed it to his chest. Only to hear nothing. Emptiness.

His heart had stopped for minutes. Plural.

It had been your steady rhythm, your desperate hands and your gasping breaths breathing into his lungs. You’d sunk your claws into him, caught them right between his ribs and had decided he couldn’t leave you.

Some nights, when you wake up screaming, you can still taste his blood on your lips. You sometimes still swore that when you’d checked for a pulse after that, you hadn’t heard anything. Still worried that Eddie Munson’s heart never really restarted and resumed beating. 

The worst was when you’d stare through the faded grey of  mornings plastering across your room’s walls, and could still remember that initial look in his blown out pupils, once honey brown swallowed in pure black as he’d taken his first breath on his own. 

Hunger.

You’d felt it, too. Shame riddled you on the nights you’d come down from the nightmares and remember it; it was as though the Universe had snapped back into place the moment you’d watched his chest first rise. A need so ardent to remain at his side. A chain clicking into place, binding both yourself and Eddie to one another, unaware of just what price had been paid to keep the boy that had laid under you in this world. Unaware of the hunger you had struck the match too that would become both your downfalls.

And so it had been buried. Something alive, even with your doubts of Eddie’s liveliness, and choking on dirt while six feet under. You and Eddie, two sides of the same coin, had decided to not speak of it. He never told you how he had come to be able to pinpoint your heartbeat in every shared room he entered, throat burning as his gaze always settled on you, and you never told him of the matching aches that had shamefully sparked within your chest and between your hips for him. 

A hunger to be near one another. A hunger to devour. Neither of you really understood the heaviness.

“How are you feeling today, Eddie?” Steve asks as he sits on the edge of the new bed in the new apartment in the new part of town the Munson men now occupy. 

Government money could go a Hell of a long way. Especially after your home had been devastated by the aftermath of alternate dimensions and unheard of evil being defeated.

“Fine,” is the only response Eddie can muster.

In reality, every time anyone came near him now, he burned. His throat tightened till it was surely raw, he swore his teeth sharpened until a mere slip of his tongue against his canines could bring the taste of metallic blood to his mouth. His entire body would tense with every person that walked through his door.

Control. Whatever was happening to him, Eddie needed to exercise control.

“Just fine?” Steve continues on, not catching the drift as he puts down the bag of things he’d bought at Eddie’s request. Basic things — painkillers, packs of cigarettes, a 6-pack. Some habits die harder and can’t be controlled, “You look like shit, Munson.” 

“Gee, thanks, Stevie.” 

Everyone had assumed the dark shadows beneath Eddie’s eyes would fade. They assumed his cheeks would eventually fill back out. They assumed he could wash away the ashen shade his hair now flatly flowed in. It was as if the life had been drained from Eddie since that day, and they had all assumed it would eventually flow back into him. 

It never did. Just as his new hunger lingered, so did the look of Death.

“Sorry, man,” Steve throws his hands up, shrugging a bit before he stands, “Just being honest. It’s the best policy.”

“Is it? Is it really?” 

If honesty was the best policy, Eddie could have filled the room with it. He could admit about the nightmarish wants, needs, he’d been keeping at bay. He could admit the way his irritation had been growing this last week every time another body, another friend, walked through his doorway and it wasn’t you. You, who had begun to plague the night terrors. You, who Eddie was beginning to crave far more than he had before he’d stared the afterlife down the barrel of the gun. 

Steve just looks at Hawkins’ newest zombie boy, sighing, “Look, I don’t know what’s got you pissed off-“

“The whole dying thing, for starters.”

“-or why you’ve insisted on being an asshole to all of us these last few weeks-“

“Again, I died.” 

“-but you’ve got everyone but me scared to visit you. We’re all scared of you biting our heads off, dude,” Steve finally finishes with a scowl. 

Everyone. It’s unspoken that you’re included in the generalization. 

It occurs to Eddie that maybe, just maybe, he should be kinder if he ever wants the ache of yearning to see you again to fade. If that’s what he could call this ache.

By the time Steve has left, Eddie’s still thinking about his warning. About the way he had been unusually cruel since coming back to life, since waking up handcuffed to a hospital bed. It made sense initially. But he wasn’t handcuffed to a hospital bed anymore — he was home, or as close to home as he could get, and he was technically safe.

The issue was that he’d accepted his safety. Everyone who had wanted Eddie Munson dead was now six feet under themselves. No, the bigger issue at hand was everyone else’s safety.

Your safety.

Once he’d realized you were the staring lead in his violent fantasies, he had stopped calling. Half of your absence last week had been his fault. 

No one really bothered to look deeper into it. Steve didn’t press as to why Eddie’s fridge had remained empty, Nancy didn’t take second glances at the odd books on vampire tales that were now littering all the free real estate of Eddie’s room, and you hadn’t questioned the coldness of his tone whenever he spoke to you. The chill of his words had grown icier than his own palms, desperate to keep you at arm’s length until he figured out what had changed in him that day he came back to life. 

He wanted you near. He wanted to rip your throat out. He wanted your blood to stain his mouth and neck just as his had stained your hands. That was an issue. That wasn’t normal. 

Something had changed in Eddie Munson, and it had terrified him to his twisted core, and no one had cared enough to notice. Not yet.

–

It took you two weeks to be fed up with the radio silence. 

Eddie stopped calling even Jonathan (the only one of the group he found he didn’t want to devour whole, as it turns out). When everyone had mentioned it in passing, it had only reminded you of the sleepless nights you’d be enduring. That small voice in the back of your head that had called out to you in the dead of night, the whisper of come to me that echoed all the way across a broken town. 

Come to me. 

Sometimes you swore it was Eddie’s voice calling to you. Sometimes, you nearly left your own new apartment in the dead of night, and let your legs guide you to the undead boy you had single-handedly revived.

Tonight was one of those nights. Your stomach was twisting, your head was pounding, your bones were aching. Every single inch of you hurt as it listened to that soft calling, and at some point, you gave in.

Hunger. You were insatiable with the need and drive to be at Eddie’s side. Warnings from the others be damned.

One thing leads to another. You find your coat, you find your car keys. You find yourself driving the deserted streets of Hawkins in the middle of the night. You find yourself on the Munson doorstep, knuckles shaking and aching with the knowledge that just beyond the wood of the door, he was there. You don’t have to see him to feel him; his thrumming presence, his anchoring existence. 

Come to me. 

The door swings open before you get the chance to knock. This string tying your two souls together is not a one-way channel, it seems. 

“Why are you here?” 

You watch him wince as the harsh words leave him. Immediately, you know that the abrasiveness is on instinct. Just as something claws inside of you to be near him, there is something within him howling to keep you far from him. 

The polarity of two magnets. Some nights, surely, his twists in a way that would draw him to you, just as yours will twirl with the sensibility that whatever has changed within him should give you cause to run as far away from him as possible. 

But tonight, your magnetism only yanks you closer to him. He doesn’t even invite you in, and yet, you find yourself stepping over the threshold of the new apartment. 

“You’ve gone quiet,” you whisper as an answer. It’s not what he wants to hear, grimace deepening, nearly a scowl now, “I just… It’s been weeks. I…” 

I missed you. I needed you. I heard you in my dreams and I’ve never had much self-control when it comes to you. 

Magnets are a useless metaphor for whatever is happening here between you. A better comparison would be the cliche image of a moth to a flame; he’s dangerous, threatening to burn you alive, and you still find your heart fluttering after him hopelessly. You’re going to get scorned, and you’ll still never learn. You’ve fallen victim to a tired narrative that you’d rolled your eyes at in a plethora of books. How many times had you sworn that wouldn’t be you? Just how many eye rolls had you exhausted at the mere idea?

And now, here you were, on his doorstep. Grasping for something you’re not sure either of you can give. 

“I’ve been dealing with a few things,” he mutters as he shuts the door behind you, shielding you both from the chill of the night. The room is still cold, especially in his radius, “Didn’t think it would make much of a difference.” 

“You didn’t think I’d care if you just stopped calling?” you turn slowly, taking in the state of the living room. Wayne was clearly gone for the night, work most probably, and several books littered the coffee table. Eddie had been the one reading them, lounging on the couch. 

The last time you had seen him, he couldn’t even sit up in bed on his own. 

He’s keeping an unusual distance, nearly leaning back out of your vicinity, “Figured you were busy.”

He’s never been this short with you. His words are choked up, his body tense with pain. You assume it’s just his injuries bothering him.

You couldn’t be more wrong, but you’re completely unaware.

“I brought you back from the dead, and you think I’d still be too busy for you,” you laugh humorlessly, fully in disbelief at his pitiful excuse, “Eddie, we could find out Vecna didn’t really die, those damn cracks in the Earth could open right back up, and the first person I’d care about finding is you.”

The animal inside that had been yearning for his presence is satiated for now, but you can still feel it lurking in the darkest depths of your mind, ready to call out a new request at any moment. It’s the distraction that has you spilling pathetic truths. 

The only response he offers you is a dead stare. With eyes wide, pupils nearly swallowed up by darkness. 

“You could have called,” your voice cracks, body shaking with the effort not to take a step closer to him, “You could have just let me know you were still alive.”

“I-” 

He cuts himself off when he’s the one taking a step closer. His entire face twists with pain, and you give up keeping your distance. In an instant, you’re at his side as your hand reaches out for his bicep. 

He flinches away. Something inside of you burns. 

Your hand is hovering in the air between the two of you, and in this lighting, you swear the skin is still stained with the blood that won’t wash away. 

“Please don’t,” he begs, “I’m fine, but… please.”

You don’t know what he’s begging for. Distance, for you to pull your hand away, time – you don’t know what he needs. 

“We should sit down,” you insist, finally pulling your hand as far from him as possible but making no move to put the space back between you two, “Has anyone helped you with your bandages? If your wounds got infected-”

“They didn’t.”

“If you didn’t change the bandages, they definitely could have-”

“They’re not infected,” he grits out, but he’s still walking over to the couch regardless, “They’re healed.” 

Healed.

Mere weeks ago, those wounds were still deep enough to keep you from ever achieving a full night's rest. Deep enough to worry you to the core that you would wake up to them finally having consumed him. Deep enough that you all assumed it would take him months, not weeks, to recover.

“What do you mean they healed, Eddie?” you whisper, almost reaching out for him as he sits down. 

Your hand twitches, but the echoes of his begging and his flinching keep it at bay as you stand before him. 

“I mean, they healed,” he huffs, nostrils flaring as he takes deep breaths. He’s looking anywhere in the room but at you, his gaze subverting you with purpose. As though the mere sight of you, the mere proximity, is painful to him, “Don’t know how, don’t know why – they just did.” 

“So why are you still in pain?” 

A sharper intake of breath. A hush of silence falling over the apartment. Even the buzz of the building’s AC unit has faded from all your senses. It’s just you and him, and a heavy quietude like no other. 

Until he finally breaks the surface tension, breathing out, “You.” 

Your heart drops. That tug inside your chest, the one taut as you look at him right within your reach yet still so far away, almost snaps. 

“Me?”

He nods with a harsh swallow, “I- Look, I can’t explain it, but when I came back, I came back…” 

“Different?” 

He doesn’t have to explain it. You’d felt it.

The moment his eyes had opened, just moments after what should have been blissful victory. The taste of his blood heavy on your tongue, a terrible sweetness that had choked you rather than its initial metallic twang. The whispers of his voice in your mind. 

He wasn’t the only one changed from whatever had occurred that night. 

“Different is a good way of putting it,” he nods, looking up with apologetic eyes, “It’s not you. It’s cliche as fuck, but it really isn’t – it’s me. I died, and you brought me back, but I don’t think either of us knew the cost.” 

The yearning. The nightmares. The unmanageable needs. The hunger. 

“What was the cost?” 

He almost doesn’t hear you. Your voice is a whisper, tone weighed down with the curse of knowing. 

You might not have known the cost when you were pressing your palms into his chest through your wretched sobs, functioning as his heart and lungs for nearly a minute, but you think you might have a clue now. 

All that had been tethering you to him since he’d come back to you, all those webs and strings that had formed their knots around both of your necks. He’d changed, and you had plummeted right into the chasm of the unknown with him.

His blood on your tongue, sweet as honey. 

Blood shouldn’t be sweet. 

He grabs one of the books off the coffee table, motioning for you to join him on the couch. Under the weight of your realization, you’re nearly under a trance. All he has to do is wave a hand, and you follow. 

You’re at his beck and call. Just like you had been when he’d been calling out for you, yearning for you. 

“Don’t make me say it,” he mutters under his breath, tossing the book into your lap the moment you’ve sat down. This time, you’re mindful to keep your distance. 

This time, you’re painfully aware of the compromising situation the two of you have found yourselves in. 

The book is older, leather-bound and worn from years of readers’ careless hands breaking the spine. The corners of every page are weather, close to disintegration. The entire thing could easily pass for a Halloween decoration. 

It’s not. You flip open to the title page, and if Eddie didn’t appear so deathly serious at your side, you would have scoffed. 

“Dracula?” you question carefully, running a finger over the delicate script of the title, “Eddie, I don’t-”

“I’m not insane,” he interrupts you, “I’m not fucking- I swear to you. I’ve gathered up every goddamn book about it that I can. Fictional, nonfictional. Just- there’s obviously a Hell of a lot more fictional material to work with, okay?” 

A vampire. He’s convinced he’s a vampire.

And even worse – you’re convinced right along with him. 

You turn your head to look at him, trying to find the right words, but all you find is Eddie burying his face in his hands, head nearly hung between his knees. 

“I can’t eat normal food anymore,” his voice is muffled, “That was the first sign. Couldn’t stomach it, made me throw up for hours when I tried. And then all those nurses kept talking about how I was healing faster than they expected. Most of my smaller cuts – those healed in under a day,” he finally lifts his face just enough to turn and peer at you through all the stray curls that fall into his vision, “My vision and hearing were the next things I noticed. Remember how I had a nonstop migraine those first few days?” 

He doesn’t need to convince you, but the argument is compelling, “It… wasn’t a migraine.” 

He shakes his head. “Not even close. Just turns out that it’s a killer to get used to fucking superhuman night vision and impeccable hearing. I still can’t handle being out in the sun very long. I don’t… burn up or any of that shit, but… it just…” he trails off, shoulders falling in defeat before he throws himself back against the couch. When he continues, his tone is flat, devoid of all emotion, “I keep having these dreams about you, too. Bad dreams. Terrible dreams.” 

You shut the book, toss it back onto the coffee table, and decide to Hell with keeping your distance. 

You need it. Even if he’ll only allow you to get an inch closer to him, you need it. 

“What do you mean by terrible dreams?” you ask, breath catching at the end of your question as you scoot yourself closer on the couch. Even with such a small movement, Eddie is quick to notice, eyes flicking to you quickly with a sense of urgency flashing behind them. 

“Don’t,” he lowly warns. 

“What’s happening in your dreams, Eddie?” 

Another inch closer. His jaw clenches. 

“Sweetheart, do not-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. Your knee bumps into his thigh, and you watch him go rigid. Hands turning to fists, eyes pinching shut and face twisting with the same pain he’d worn the ghost of when you first arrived at the apartment. 

The moment you touch him, you see it. The flashes of his nightmares, all those terrible actions haunting him every time he closed his eyes. You. Your blood. That hunger. 

Like a blackhole in the center of your stomach, it burns viciously as it sucks the air out of your lungs. It threatens to cave your entire being into itself until there’s nothing left. Not even a crumb of who you once were. 

But it's not yours. It’s Eddie’s. 

That pain on his face is only exhibiting a fraction of what he was feeling. That dizzying craving that he’d miraculously been keeping at bay since you’d simply entered the building, not even yet knocking on his door. You hadn’t even been in the same room as him yet, and he had still known. Had smelt you, had felt you. 

He could almost taste you. 

“You…” you have to shift your knee away from him, break the touch, break the connection, “You haven’t fed since you woke up.”

“I haven’t fed, period.” 

With the connection severed, he somehow finds it in himself to open his eyes once more. You don’t know how – if he’s feeling what you’d just been privy to, you’d be an incoherent mess on the floor. Something feral and unrecognizable. 

Although, maybe he was nearly there. You couldn’t see his pupils. That same look when he’d first woken up – a man swallowed whole by hunger. 

“You’ve been dreaming about ripping my throat out,” you say it as a matter of fact, not a lick of judgment in your tone. 

It wasn’t you scrutinizing him. It was what you had seen, with one simple touch. 

His voice is hoarse as he echoes in confirmation, “I’ve been dreaming about ripping your throat out.” 

You should probably be afraid. All your survival instincts should be kicking in, your feet should be carrying you towards the door, you shouldn’t be leaning in closer. 

“You know what really sealed the whole vampire ordeal though, sweetheart?” he breathes out, your eyes fluttering shut at the lull in his hushed tone. 

Just as you’ve been leaning in, he’s been slowly turning his body to face yours, hands twitching at his sides. He’s no longer retreating from your presence, sucking down breaths in harsh gulps the closer you grow to him. 

He’s losing control. You’re losing control. 

That thread, vibrant red as it draws you near him, is clear as day now. A noose around your neck. A road to your damnation. 

A road to your hunger. 

You hardly hum in response, completely entranced now. Had he ever been capable of this before? Of holding you beneath such an inescapable spell with such ease? 

Probably. 

He doesn’t use his words to answer. Instead, he finally takes the plunge. 

His head ducks down towards your neck just as his hands lose the war, grabbing onto your hips, dragging you dangerously close to him until his lips hovered just over your pulse point. And by some strength that you certainly don’t possess, he stops there. Letting his lips barely brush against your soft skin, breath coming out in pants for you to feel, to relish, to get lost in. And just as soon as those pants, those waves, become a comfortable pattern to succumb to, you feel them.

His fangs. 

Grazing over your sensitive skin. Sharp tips nipping at a surface they could so easily break, pierce with one wrong move. Your pulse is thrumming beneath the surface, heart racing painfully as Eddie’s grip turns bruising. 

Come to me. 

“Please.” 

You’re the one begging now. It goes against every rule you’ve ever seen applied in fiction. If a vampire is baring their fangs against your neck, you should be reaching for a stake. The only noise escaping you should be a scream for help, not the pathetic whimpers beginning to slip out. 

“I can’t,” you feel his gasp more than you can hear it. Your blood is too loud, roaring in your ears as you feel the fangs slip with his words, “I can’t.” 

That hunger you felt, the one that had called out to you through the night and led you right to his doorstep, is unavoidable now. You need him closer, you need him to do this. For the first time since you had saved his life and tasted his blood after the Upside Down, everything seems to click into place. All he needs to do is let them sink into you, take that final leap of faith and reprieve that ache you’ve battled for weeks now. 

You’re so close. So close. 

“Eddie, please,” you’re nearly sobbing, hands gripping onto his shoulders, trying to pull him in closer. 

But you’re no match for his strength. You don’t know if it’s a new addition with his vampire business or if there was always more to him than met the eye, but he easily stays stoic against your attempts, not moving a centimeter. Still hovering, still just barely making contact with your heartbeat. 

“I-” his head drops slightly, tip of his nose beginning to trail down the side of your neck, mouth no longer dangerously close, “You saw my dreams-”

“I trust you.” 

You do. You trust him even more now than you had when you first stumbled upon him in the boathouse. More than when he had pleaded his case, promised he hadn’t been the one to kill Chrissy Cunningham. The trust comes easier than breathing as his nose nuzzles into the junction of your neck and shoulder. 

“You shouldn’t,” he mutters, fangs now brushing your collar bone, “You really, really shouldn’t.” 

He doesn’t stop you when you move to straddle his hips. Your weight settles onto his lap, and he only fights to keep his face burrowed there in your shoulder, arms now moving around your waist to hold you tightly to him. 

His self-control is impeccable. You’d admire him and all this impressiveness another time, when something inside of you wasn’t lamenting his resistance. 

All at once, it occurs to you how to give him the final push. 

“Did I ever tell you how sweet your blood was on my tongue after I brought you back?” you start, sighing, rolling your shoulders to expose more of your neck, grip on his shoulders tightening, “All that blood, all those tears, and I still can’t forget how welcome that warmth of you was in my mouth. How I needed more. How I pictured it every night, after every nightmare-” 

He breaks. 

One moment, his nose is buried in your skin. And the next, his fangs are. 

You weren’t sure what to expect, but relief would have been low on your list. You gasp out in initial shock, but as you feel his teeth dig in, it’s as though something has snapped. The ache has been satiated, preening as you feel the warmth of your blood contrast the chill of his chin pressing into you. 

If there’s any pain, you don’t feel it through the haze of pleasure. 

Ice shards spread through your bloodstream, but the point in which Eddie’s mouth is connected to you radiates heat. He’s pulling you into him, letting go completely and relinquishing all that control as he nearly purrs against your skin in satisfaction. That connection is back, two minds linking with a heavy click, and you can feel all his pleasure mingling with your own. Satiation, desperation, adoration – the plethora of emotions all swarm your head and block out any better judgment. 

You’d let him drain you dry, if that’s what he needed. If nothing more than to hear those soft moans as his fangs sink even deeper. 

He pulls back too soon, though, suddenly and unexpectedly. Just as quickly as he had given in to both your desires, he’s putting an end to them. He hadn’t taken much blood, but your head is swimming from the loss all the same. Your grip has gone slack on him, hands slipping down to just barely cradle his biceps while his own touch stays unyielding around you. 

You can hear his thoughts. Or rather, maybe more aptly put, you can feel them. 

He wants to devour you. Wholly, ruthlessly. 

He looks up at you with pupils still blown wide, chest heaving and a small scarlet drip trailing from the corner of his mouth. For the first time since he’d come back to you, he looks alive. Hair fluffed in a halo around his head, skin tinted with a healthy glow and unmistakable blush, bags beneath his eyes faded for the time being. 

You were never quite sure if Eddie Munson’s heart had ever restarted, knew for certain that it hadn’t now, but you swear you can feel its pulse finally thrumming for you. 

I need more. 

It’s his voice in your head, echoing in the empty space as you look down with wild eyes to match his. 

But it’s your voice in his head when you respond instantaneously. 

Then take it. 

Something unspoken lies there in the need. He doesn’t move back to your neck, doesn’t bite down and drink his fill of your blood. He only stares for a few seconds, watching the welt of blood that pools from each puncture wound of his making. His eyes follow when it runs down your skin, as though he might lose it should he so much as blink. Down, down, down. Following the trail that his nose had followed minutes before, across your collarbone until it stains the neck of your loose shirt. 

My pleasure. 

His hold proves helpful when he quickly changes positions, roughly throwing you down onto the couch before he’s settled between your thighs, crawling his way up your body. He pays close attention to the maroon trail on your throat, his tongue cleaning up after his mess, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. 

Sweet as honey. 

His tongue only pauses for a moment over the bite wound, pressing into it, making your back arch as you press yourself fully into him. Your head digs painfully into the cushion behind you as you expose your neck, wanting and begging and pleading all without words. 

“I think we should take this off,” he plucks at the hem of your shirt, tugging hard before he begins to carefully lift. His freezing knuckles brush against your burning skin, eliciting a whimper from you, “Before we make an ever bigger mess. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

A sultry tone you’ve never heard from him before. Honeyed words, familiar to how he once spoke, but entirely new in the way they curl around you. There’s a confidence there, a baiting that he’s luring you with. 

“Yes, please.” 

He could ask anything of you in this moment, and you’d be eager to comply. Fueled by your desire for him before the events of spring break, worsened by his new condition. A bright, red, vibrating thread. You couldn’t severe the tie if you wanted to. 

And you most certainly did not want to. 

Your shirt is removed, his hands careful despite the way they shake. His words may be smooth, but each move is jagged, the only sign you had that he’s still exercising control. 

“And these?” he whispers, lowering his lips to your sternum as he toys with the band of your pants. His fangs scratch down the center of your stomach as it quivers with each breath, careful to not break skin as they make their presence known. You nearly lose all capability to speak until he says, “Use your words, baby. Tell me I can take them off.” 

Yes. 

His eyes flare, looking up to you, “Use your words. Not your mind. I want to hear how badly you need me – I want everyone to hear you beg.” 

The words strike straight to your core. Lashing out in your lower stomach, burning deliciously. 

It’s more than putting on a show. He needs to know you want this. 

“Take them off,” you gasp out, hands wandering to tangle in his hair, “Take- Take it all off. I’m yours, Eddie.” 

Shaking hands perform a dance you had long since fantasized about. In easier days, when Eddie had been uninvolved in the episode down, heart still beating along as he would bounce his knees in front of you and his fingers would idly fiddle with his pencils and pens. A yearning, a wanting, you’d always held for the boy. 

He used to be an escape from it all. A pretty thing to daydream about when you weren’t worried about monsters. And now – he was one of the monsters. 

Your monster. Tied to you inexplicably, brought back by your hands and your stubborn efforts. 

His lips and fangs are one in the same, trailing along your body as he finds a home at the apex between your thighs. Even in undeath, he’s the most beautiful thing your mind could conjure. 

You’d forgotten how he was privy to your every thought until he reacts.

“You’re too sweet,” he murmurs, smirking salaciously as he mouths innocently at that sensitive skin of your inner thigh, tongue darting out to lick a cool stride before he breathes out against it. It has you writhing beneath his hold, “You’ve wanted this all this time, sweetheart? Wanted to see me, between these pretty thighs, making you scream my name?” His mouth falls open a bit wider, the sharp canines pressing but not sinking against where he had just licked. He holds there, eyes locking with yours, until he pulls back to cockily say, “Could’ve just said something, y’know. Didn’t have to bring me back from the dead to have me devoted to you.” 

Finally, finally, he lets his fangs sink back into you. The soft meat of your thigh is more pliant in his mouth, and he doesn’t linger as long as he had on your neck. One nick, just enough to start the blood flow, before he’s pulling back and licking hungrily at the scarlet liquid. Less for feeding, more for marking.

Marking you as his, just as you have with him. His methods just appeared a bit more physical. 

He’s quick to avert his focus on your cunt, no warning before the tongue still covered in your blood is taking long strides over your entrance and clit. Devotion. That was the only word to describe the way he was unraveling you, alternating between indulging in your sweet cunt and returning back to that bite, going as far to even sink his teeth in a second time to take a proper drink of you. His chin and lips grow slick with it all – with the blood, with your wetness, with his own saliva. A starved man with a feast before him. 

The way he’s rutting his hips into the couch as he slings your legs over his shoulders doesn’t go unnoticed. 

It’s a mess. A wonderful, satisfying, enchanting mess.

Beautiful. So beautiful, all mine. 

His voice has you teetering on an edge of new carnal pleasure. Completely consumed by him, your hands tugging viciously at his curls. His face is round once more, eyes and cheeks no longer sunken in, vitality being breathed into him with each taste of your blood. 

Let me touch you. Please.

You beg over that connection, trying your best to not buck your hips mercilessly against his tongue. You feel his wicked grin. 

“You’re already touching me, sweetheart,” he reaches up, untangling your fingers from his hair for emphasis before he’s pinning them to your sides, “And what did I say about using our words? Hm?” 

“Need more,” your voice is wrecked as you tilt your head back, wrists straining against his hold, “I need more.” 

You’re fully light-headed now, the blood loss finally catching up. Maybe you were about to let him drain you dry. 

And what a beautiful way to die. At the hand, at the fangs, of the one you had fought so urgently to bring back to you. 

One last timid lick to the wound on your thigh, and he’s crawling his way back up to you. The mess doesn't phase you as he kisses you hungrily – the blood remains sweet rather than metallic, the remnants of your juices still on his tongue – and you meet him with an unbridled fervent. Nipping at his lips with your own dull canines as if you were the one looking for a bite of vivacity. 

You don’t know when he lets go of your wrists, or when your hands find their way up beneath his shirt. The specifics don’t matter once he’s naked before you, clothes discarded messily to the ground with your own. The only thing that matters is the weight of him, the reminder that he was still here as his hips roll into yours and the head of him catches on your entrance. 

He had been dead. For minutes. And you had brought him back to you. 

The process had taken longer than the mere CPR administered, had taken weeks of whatever waiting game you two had tortured yourselves with, but you had him now. He was yours. You were his. There wasn’t a deity, a monster, an omniscient being in this world that could take that away from you. Not even Death herself. 

“Last chance, baby,” he whispers against your lips, holding himself up so that not a single inch of his skin pressed to yours. You nearly cried out, missing that connection, missing him. Your hunger, the hunger for him entirely, rattles your bones once more, “Say the word, and I’ll-”

“No,” your hands pause their exploration of skin jagged with scars. Reminders of those few dreadful moments in which the world existed without Eddie Munson in it, that would fade in time but never fully disappear. Always there, just like the stain of his blood on your palms. Always there, just like your desperation to have him at your side. “I meant it when I said I’m yours. I’m not changing my mind. I want this.” 

His skin is back on yours, body laid fully along your own road map, and it all comes flooding back. The pain of seeing his lifeless body, the nights spent in an eerie hospital room, baring your own teeth at any one who came too close to the man you had pulled back from the ledge of Death. The anxiety, the fear, the relief, the yearning – it all accumulates as he’s pressing into you, brimming you so full that there’s no room for memories of nightmares. 

He’s here. He’s yours. You’re his. 

His heart didn’t need to beat for you to accept that truth. 

You can’t decipher which chants of your name fall from his lips for others to hear, and which ones whisper in the depths of your mind for only you to bear witness to. Each curse, each grunt, each moan – there for you and only you anyways. You’re entirely unsure if your lips even separate once as he thrusts, cock brushing somewhere deep in you that has you clenching around him. 

And if his fangs wander, it only adds to the pleasure. 

Blood, sweat, and tears all mingle between your bodies. He’s holding you tighter than water, as though you’re at risk of disappearing from him at any given moment. But that link between your two minds, your two souls, is unwavering. It’s the only thing grounding you to the moment as your half curls around his waist and your heel digs into his lower back. Urging him, pressing him, taking him. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says it out loud, this time. You feel his lips brushing against your ear as he does, “Gripping me so tightly. This pussy was fucking made for me.” 

Every movement only unlocks something more feral inside the two of you. Your nails rake down his back, leaving angry red lines to trace over once it’s all said and done. There’s enough shallow bite marks across your neck that you’ll be wearing scarves for weeks, months. The others might question it, strangers might stare, but the pride you feel as he marks you is unmatched for any anxiety about it. 

That black hole of hunger is no longer swallowing either of you whole. That debilitating pain, that animal inside, has been tamed. 

When his hips begin to stutter, mouth no longer capable of the strength to properly bite you as his lips only smear the soft spattering of blood pooling at the base of your throat, you’re already there. Squeezing him tightly, sucking him in, voice raw as you let everyone know who’s ravishing you. 

Eddie. 

Hawkins’ newest zombie boy – Hawkins’ newest vampire. 

The climax is just as pleasurable as the lead up. The haze lingers long after his spent has dripped out of you, long after he’s collapsed into your body with exhaustion and contentment. The blood dries, the wounds clot – but that haze doesn’t falter. 

As long as his skin presses to yours, you feel that caress of his mind against yours. 

“Did…” you’re breathless as his face nuzzles into your nude chest, a few mindless hums of gratification still slipping from him as you bring a hand to toy with the curls at the crown of his head, “Did any of your vampire books say anything about… that?”

The connection. The bloodlust. The spell you swear he still has you under, even as it’s all said and done. 

He snorts against your skin, “Not that I, uh, recall.” 

“What? You mean to tell me in all your research, you never dived into any vampire smut?” you tsk jokingly, a calm smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. He lifts his head, and you swear, those honey-brown irises have threads of a deep maroon now, “You’re slacking, Munson.” 

“Why read about it when I can just experience it?” he coos, letting his nose and lips drag across your still hot skin before he rests his chin on your sternum, “Besides, I mean – we’ll need to do this again, won’t we, baby? For research.” 

Your head still spins. Your body aches in a welcome manner. There will be a need for explanations to others, for actually researching his condition, later on. But for now, it’s enough. 

The pounding behind your ribcage, the one you know Eddie feels for the both of you when his ear presses to your chest, is enough. 

Of course, lover. 

That thought stays between the two of you. The world doesn’t need to know what can’t hurt them. 

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[im-sleepdeprived]

Can you write something about co-workers to friends to lovers?

fix you up

pairing: peter parker x reader

a/n: i won’t lie to y’all idk how i feel abt this one. its cute dgmw but i hope you guys like it !!! ive had this request for an EMBARRASSINGLY long time, anon if you’re upset, i totally understand

warnings: mentions of injuries, burns, rude customers, bandaging some wounds n stuff, fluff and pining !!! (disclaimer: I’ve never been a barista so forgive me if this is a lil off)

masterlist, requests are open !!

Working in a rustic-vintage-corner-campus-cafe was definitely not how you saw your college years going. Your teen self would’ve killed to work at a place like this but when you grew up, you realized just how different the workload is between a high school student and a uni one such as yourself. 

You weren’t complaining of course. The pay was adequate, your manager was a simple old lady who never had much to say other than making sure all the equipment was clean, you got along with your coworkers pretty well for the most part and the customers were tolerable. 

But every once in a while, you’d get an entitled shithead who seemed to make it their life’s mission to ruin someone else’s day. And the problem with working a social job such as you did, is that you were an easy target. 

It started off as a fairly simple day, you clocked in and put on your apron ready to start your shift for the day. You preferred late morning shifts, leaving afternoons for classes (and the rouge 8am lecture every now and then) and nights for going out or studying. 

“Oh, Y/N! Thank god you're here,” Your co-worker, Vanessa, exclaimed.

Vanessa was a few years older than you. She actually wasn’t a student, she’d given college a try and it wasn’t her thing. Apparently, all it did was “try to undermine unstoppable greatness.” She was chatty, but you actually liked that about her. She could keep up a conversation with a statue. When you first started off here she’d been the one to show you the ropes and ever since then, you’d had a specific bond with her that you couldn’t really put a name to.

You gave her a small smile, “Yeah well, I do prefer to show up when promised. Especially when my paycheck depends on it,” you let out a small laugh.

“Yes! See, that's what I love about you,” she made a disgusted face, “Unlike Peter. Honestly, I don't understand how he hasn’t been fired yet! He shows up at least half an hour late to every shift yet Miss Hannigan still keeps him around.”

“Oh,” you stuttered, raising your hands a little in defense, “I didn't mean it as a jab at Peter, I swear.”

She tossed a curled blonde lock of hair over her shoulders while waving her other hand in dismissal, “Honey, don’t worry about it. I know you would never, you’re far too sweet for that. But I wouldn’t blame you if you did, you know, having to work more than half your shift alone? I swear if Bernard did that to me,” she made a big show of gesturing to herself, "I would not deal with it.”

While what she was saying wasn’t necessarily wrong, it didn’t feel right talking about Peter like that. Sure, he was late most of the time, leaving you to do most of the work while you waited for him to show up (somehow when he started working you two got the same shift together and it’s just been that way ever since) and while you, also, normally wouldn’t put up with this, there was something different about Peter. You never felt like he was taking advantage of you, and purposefully made you pick up extra slack. It was quite the opposite actually, he always apologized profusely and never slacked when he was on the clock. He always seemed so rushed and out of breath, you were pretty sure the poor boy just needed to learn how to manage time better. Plus, he always took it upon himself to unpack the orders because of all the heavy lifting required (you couldn’t tell just by looking at him, with all the sweaters he wore, but man was he ripped.)

“He’s actually really sweet.” You’re not sure why exactly you’re so keen on defending Peter. You two barely spoke, outside of work��of course, and you don’t know much about him. But something inside you didn’t like anyone assuming anything bad about him. 

“Yea, well, he’d be a ton sweeter if he clocked in on time,” she laughed as she untied her apron, getting ready to leave. You faked a laugh as well, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. 

“Alrighty, well,” she heaved a breath, “I'm off, have a good rest of your day Y/N.”

You smiled once again and sent a wave her way before settling down in front of the register. It was slow today, not many people in the shop. A fellow student you only recognized from work sat in a corner booth with their headphones locked in and was working on what seemed to be some kind of essay. 

There was an older woman, however, looking incredibly irritated at the table closest to you. You’d never seen her before but that wasn’t too strange. It was a near-campus cafe, after all, lots of people passing through. She looked to be typing on her phone until, suddenly, she shut it off and made direct eye contact with you. 

If looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead behind the counter, which wouldn’t be all that ideal considering you couldn’t remember the last time anyone mopped that side of the store. 

She stood up and walked towards you and you already dreaded the conversation to come.

“I have an order,” she spit out, as if she were disgusted to even be talking to you at the moment. 

No greeting or anything, wow. Someone wasn’t raised right. 

Nonetheless, you put on your well-rehearsed customer service smile and gave in. “Sure, I’d be happy to help with that. Can you just give me the order?”

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “I shouldn’t have to, I called in and placed it and it should be ready by now. I'm going to be late!”

You froze for a moment, not quite sure what to do, “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience ma’am, but I just got here and I haven’t heard anything,” you glance at the little whiteboard kept on the counter for these exact situations only to find it empty, “and I don’t see anything here about a phone-placed order. Are you sure you have the right store?”

Her face was so red and steam was practically blowing out of her ears, “Of course, I have the right store! Do you think I'm stupid or something?”

“No! Of course not, I'm so sorry,” you start to blabber off, not wanting to make her any angrier than she already was, “I’ll get things ready for you right away ma’am.”

You turned around and tried to make yourself not freak out as badly as you wanted to. It was so humiliating getting yelled at like this in public! And yeah, maybe if you had such a problem with unpleasant interactions like this, you shouldn't have taken a social job such as this one, but honestly, you thought people would have enough manners not to act up like this. Apparently not. 

It slipped your mind for a moment because of how scrambled you got when the lady flipped her lid, but Vanessa has been known to do this, forget to write down orders and leave you to fend for yourself (quite literally since your coworker was never really around) and you’re pretty sure that’s what happened here. Other customers were usually more understanding than this woman bordering on Kathy-Bates-movie-character-insanity over a drink order. 

You reached into your back pocket, deciding you’d try to send her a hurried text about any phone calls she might remember. That just seemed to anger your customer more.

“Excuse me?! I'm sitting here waiting for my order and you're too busy chatting away on your phone?”

You lose yourself for a moment and you can’t feel your face anymore. 

“I am so sorry ma’am,” you repeat, which seems to be your mantra since you started working today, “I was just checking to see if-,”

“I don't care what you were checking, or what you need to see! Give me what I paid for,” her hand started smacking against the counter loud enough for the only other person in the store to look up, broken from their reverie. They merely shot you an apologetic look before getting back to their work, leaving you to fend for yourself.

“You have terrible customer service, honestly. I come here every Tuesday with my book club, but never again. If I don’t get exactly what I asked for in the next five minutes, I'm calling your boss and not leaving until I'm sure you’re fired.” 

You shake your head, “There’s no need to do that ma’am, I'll get everything ready for you.”

You turned around once again, this time, heading towards the cappuccino machine. You’re not sure why you said that considering you have no clue what ‘everything’ is that has to get ready. 

In all honesty, there’s a low chance that a suburban-white-soccer-mom type would have any real effect on your employment. Miss Hannigan would surely not fire you just because some order forgot to be written down and some customer got pissed. Right?

But you really didn’t want to find out. 

So, you started up the machine and turned to grab a cup. Today, apparently, was just doomed from the start. As you turned to grab one of the cups placed on the shelf over the machine, your hand hit the button that turned on the steam wand. Which was aimed directly at your other hand. 

You bit down the yelp that threatened to escape and jumped back, the back of your hand now searing with pain. Instinctively, your other hand came to cup your injured one, which only made it worse. You fought back tears as you moved to turn the steam back off. 

Inhaling deeply, you took a moment to try to get your mind working again. “Hello?!” Of course. You turned your head and gave her the fakest smile you’ve ever mustered in your whole life. “One minute ma’am.”

You could hear her going off about how she doesn’t have a minute to spare, but you ignored her, trying to think of what the hell you could give her to just get her out of your face. You’d have to guess her order since I wasn’t actually taken. You’d started playing a game with yourself since you worked here, guessing people's drink orders, and you’d say you’ve gotten pretty good. 

You peeked a look back at her. You’d had customers around her age come in before and order, for the most part, the same thing. A plain cappuccino. Seemed like a safe bet.

Swallowing down the pain as best you could, you approached the machine again. This time, taking out the portafilter. It must’ve not been put in correctly because it clattered to the ground, coffee grinds falling around the floor. 

You wanted to cry. Your hand hurt like hell, there was a new mess to deal with, and that lady hadn’t stopped complaining since you stepped in. 

Frozen, you began to panic a little, breaths coming out sporadically. You’d leave the sweeping for later, but you had to clean the filter so you could use it because it was the only one. And the slightest brush of air made your hand burn even more. You had no clue how to go about this. Maybe if you-

Like an angel, Peter rushed in through the side door. Tying his apron around his waist, he looked towards you. Your hand flew up to your mouth at his perfect timing and you saw his expression grow more concerned. 

He rushed towards you. “What happened?” And for a second, you forget everything that was stressing you out just a few moments before. He grabbed your hand so gently, you forgot every ounce of pain. 

“I cannot believe this!” She wasn’t giving up and you shut your eyes in frustration, turning to reply to her again. But before you can open your mouth, Peter steps in. “Hold on, can’t you clearly see she’s hurt?”

She scoffed and crossed her arms, “That’s her fault. If she knew how to do her job, it wouldn’t have happened.”

You could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. His expression hardened and his mouth opened to shoot something back at her, but this time, you cut him off. You placed your non-injured hand on his shoulder and gave him a look. 

He stared at you for a few seconds before finally giving in, blowing out some air in a frustrated huff. “Go wait for me inside,” he told you, nodding his head toward the employees-only backroom. 

“What?” You asked confused. You didn’t wanna leave him alone. 

“You’re not working right now, there’s no way I’m letting you. I’ll deal with her. Go, I’ll be right there,” he said, shoving you away gently.

Once you heard that he’d be following you, you were more willing. You walked through the door and took a seat at the table usually used for meal breaks. The ‘break room’ was a small room positioned in the back of the store. You can’t remember what this place used to be (a diner maybe?) but this specific room was used as an office, but Miss Hannigan claimed she had no use for an office so it was used for employee breaks. 

Every ounce of you was grateful for Peter’s Superman moment back there. He came in today earlier than usual and he’d totally saved your ass. You were going to make sure to tell him. 

You weren’t waiting long before the door opened again and Peter walked in, holding a backpack you hadn’t seen on him before. In his other hand, he held a drink. He placed the drink on the table before he grabbed one of the chairs, bringing it close to yours, and you turned your body to face him. 

He picked up your hand again, just as gently as before. “Alright,” he let out a breath of relief, “it’s not as bad as I thought, but, it’s still gonna take a while to heal. Wait,” he leaned over, unzipping his bag and taking supplies out while you just stared at him.

“I thought you majored in biochemistry.” You blurted out. Your face heated up a little when he looked at you curiously.

“I- I saw your textbooks once when you left your bag open. And I’ve seen you around campus, near the science-y buildings…and stuff.” You shrugged and he chuckled. 

“I do,” he nodded, “any medical stuff is self-taught. I get into a lot of…accidents.”

“Oh.” You nodded at him. What kind of accidents would he get into? You’d never seen him hurt, but what did you know. 

“I take it you don’t major in anything science-y,” he said, grinning at you.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t. But I have a chemistry class I have to take for credit. Which makes no sense because chemistry has nothing to do with what I want to learn.”

He laughed and set his bag back down, everything he needed was now laid out on the table. “Okay,” he picked up a white tube with red lettering on it. “This is gonna help with pain and scarring. I’m going to spread some of this, then wrap it up for you.” You looked at the table and saw he’d also taken out some white gauze. What kind of ‘accidents’ did he get into?

You nodded, at a complete loss for words. You had no idea Peter knew so much about injuries and you were so thankful he was helping you out. You didn’t hate each other, but you weren’t close either.

He applied a small amount to the back of your hand, asking you constantly if you were okay as he rubbed it on softly. Honestly, even if it did hurt, you wouldn’t have the heart to tell him.

He finished up with the cream and moved onto the gauze, expertly wrapping it up to lightly cover your wound. When he was finished with that, he carefully tied it off, making sure not to tie it too tight.

“There,” he leaned back and smiled at you, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach. “All fixed up.”

 “Thank you, Peter, really.” You reluctantly pulled your hand back into your lap, missing the warmth of his fingers wrapped around it.

“You don’t need to thank me Y/N, it’s the least I could do. I’m just glad I got here earlier than usual.”

You nodded and looked down. “Well thanks anyway, you saved my ass back there. Seriously, I have no idea what’s wrong with me today but I kept fucking everything up.”

“Hey,” he said softly, making you look up and meet his gaze. “You didn’t fuck anything up. Okay? You made a few mistakes, but that's not your fault. She shouldn’t have been treating you like that, especially when you’d hurt yourself.” He looked away and scoffed as he remembered the terrible customer that had ruined your morning. You would’ve felt extremely touched by his care if it weren’t for his next words.

“All that for a plain fucking cappuccino.” He mumbled.

“A plain cappuccino? Really?” You asked excitedly, forgetting about everything, and grinning at him wildly. 

“Um, yeah…why?” He asked you, confusion was written all over his face, but he couldn’t help his own smile slightly growing when he noticed your enthusiasm.

“Nothing,” you shook your head quickly, smile never fading, “I just…well, I play this game with myself where I guess people's drink orders. And I think I’m getting pretty good because that’s exactly what I was going to make her before you walked in.”

He laughed out loud and you joined in. “What’s my order?” He asked. 

You paused for a moment. “A caramel macchiato with extra caramel.”

He looked at you for a bit, “Close,” he admitted. “It used to be.”

“So are you gonna tell me what it is now?”

Shaking his head, he leaned over the table and dragged the drink he’d brought in earlier in front of you. “Here,” he changed the subject, “I made you this.”

You’d completely forgotten about it, and when you took a closer look, you realized it was your coffee order. 

Your mouth fell open, “How’d you know?”

He just shrugged, smiling slightly. He knew it was your favorite, but the confirmation was still nice. “I've seen you make it for yourself. Educated guess.”

“Oh my god,” you said, voice soft. It was a simple thing really, you had one most days at the end of your shift. But the fact that he’d noticed… It just meant a lot. “Thank you so much, Peter.”

He just waved you off, his smile growing when he noticed your reaction to the drink. He couldn’t believe he got a chance to speak to you. Truly speak to you. He was always too awkward or embarrassed or trying to avoid embarrassment. But now, while he didn’t like the circumstances that led you both here, he was actually talking to you. And it was nice.

“So,” he started, not wanting this to end just yet, “you said you’ve got a chemistry class?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, picking up your drink and taking a sip. “The one with Professor Hall. I actually have a class after this shift. I totally suck though, and he hates me. I just don’t get it, and he doesn’t explain it well!”

Peter nodded, completely understanding what you meant. It was a tough subject to begin with, and he knew not everyone was as into science as he was, add onto that a teacher who doesn’t really teach, it’s a recipe for disaster. 

“I actually had that class. Last year. I can help you, sometimes. If you’d like me to, that is!” He rushed out. Great, he thought, now I’m getting awkward. 

You looked up at him, eyes wide. “Really? Do you mean that?”

“Of course. I think I’ve still got my notes too, if you want ‘em.” He shrugged nonchalantly as if he wasn’t saving your ass again. 

“Oh my god Peter,” you placed your non-injured hand on his knee, not noticing the way his body stiffened and he gulped. “That would help so much. There’s a huge exam coming up, and it's a huge part of my grade so I have to pass. I started cramming earlier but—”

“I’ll help,” he reassured you, “I enjoy science anyway, so it’ll be fun for me.”

“Thank you,” you repeated. Staring at him so close, you realized you’d never noticed how handsome he was. Sure there were times you thought he was cute, from afar, but now…you could see the different shades of brown in his eyes, the way one of his eyebrows was slightly curlier than the other, unwilling to sit straight. You couldn’t help but stare-

“Oh my god,” you repeated, except this time, you had remembered something. “If we’re both in here, who’s outside?”

“What? Oh, um,” he scratched the back of his neck, still reeling from having you so close to him. “Freddy’s out there?”

“Freddy?” You asked confused. 

He nodded. “The guy writing on his laptop, he’s friends with my roommate, throws the craziest parties. He’s chill, I told him to keep an eye out if someone else walks in. But it’s been slow, so I think we’re good.”

“Oh, okay.” You said, standing up. “We should probably still go though.”

He stood up beside you, frowning. “I don’t think you should work with your hand hurt. I don’t want you accidentally making it worse.”

Your heart warmed at his concern. “That's really sweet Peter, but I’ll be fine. I don’t know what happened before, I never do stuff like that, even accidentally.”

He still didn’t look convinced. “Why don’t you just go home? I can take it for today.”

You shook your head quickly, “I’m not leaving. I have a class later and it would just be a waste of time going back and forth anyway.”

You walked towards the door, opened it, and exited before he had a chance to argue anymore. You stepped behind the counter while Peter rushed out behind you. You watched Freddy give him a thumbs up and Peter nodded at him before he followed right after you. 

“Are you sure you should go to class today? I can walk you home so you can take the day off,” he offered, and he looked so genuine you almost accepted. 

“Peter,” you laughed and he decided no matter what your response was, it wouldn’t matter because hearing you say his name like that was enough. “I’ll be fine, I didn’t break both my legs, it's just a small burn.”

He stared at you for a bit as you smiled at him, trying to get him to ease up. “Fine,” he gave in reluctantly. “But no going towards the cappuccino machine,” he waved a finger at you, “or the ovens. Or anything hot!”

“Fine,” you shot back, grinning wide and he couldn’t help but return it.

The rest of the morning had gone by easily and you thought maybe you didn’t have totally shit luck. Peter was way more fun than you ever thought he’d be and you wondered why you didn’t start talking to each other sooner. 

It used to be silently working together but after those few moments in the break room, you guys were laughing your whole shift. He meant what he said, and he kept you away from anything that produced heat (which you told him was an insane boundary to set in a cafe) so you had extra time to make quips here and there.

You started playing your order-guessing game with him, teaching him certain traits that gave someone away:

“Side part, beanie, and a crossbody? Oh, he’s getting a tall, dark, americano for sure.”

“She’s getting tea. No coffee, just tea. Maybe with a little lemon wedge.”

And he started to get the hang of it. 

“She looks like she drinks matchas right?” He said to you when a girl around your age walked in. He’d been right and you both laughed about it afterwards. 

When your work shift ended, you were actually upset. 

“I’ve got a class to get to,” you told him, lifting your bag onto your shoulder. You’d both cleaned up and gotten yourselves ready, now standing in front of the door. Something in you didn’t want to leave just yet, enjoying your time together far too much to end it so soon. 

“Yeah…” he trailed off, you waited for him to continue but he hesitated. 

“What is it?” You crossed your arms and smiled slightly, shifting your weight onto your other foot. He brought a hand up to scratch the back of his neck, “I just…well, I was just wondering—if it's okay with you of course!” He rushed out, quickly bringing his hands up. “That I could walk you to class?”

You laughed, “I’d love that Pete, thank you.” You turned to open the door to let you both out but he quickly moved forward, holding it open for you and motioning for you to move forward. 

Looking back at him, you smiled and noticed his cheeks were a little red. How had you never noticed how adorable he was?

The walk back to campus wasn’t long but you learned a lot. He told you where he went to high school, his friends he still kept in touch with, his Aunt May, some funny moments from parties he’d been forced to attend by his roommate, and you laughed together.

You told him about the book you were currently reading, your life back home and your family, and why you chose to go to this college. He went along with your jokes, which made it all the more better for you. “I mean if you think about it,” you'd said, “it is so much easier to romanticize your life  when your school campus is as pretty as this one, and that’s real motivation!”

The conversation flowed naturally between you two and it felt like you’d been friends for ages. He dropped you off outside of your class building with the promise of picking you up afterward so you two could study together. 

“So I’ll be back here in an hour right,” he asked. 

“Right,” you smiled at him. “And thanks again Pete, for everything.” You held up your bandaged hand, shaking it a little before setting it back down. 

He shook his head quickly, “Don’t thank me for that. Really.”

You stared at him with a warm expression. “Bye Peter,” you waved as you turned to walk into your class.

“Bye Y/N,” he returned. He watched you walk through the doors, shooting him one last smile before you disappeared from view, before blowing out a breath of air. 

He’d finally gotten a chance to talk to the girl he’d been crushing on for months, and he got to walk her to class! And they were meeting up afterward. After working so close to you and never having the guts to initiate a conversation, he’d settled for just admiring you from afar. But after today, there was nothing that could keep him away. 

You were not having a good day. 

You’d just found out that your chemistry exam was being bumped up to two days from now. Even with the early studying you’d done before, there was no way you could catch up with everything that fast. You were so overwhelmed you had completely forgotten Peter was waiting for you outside. 

You walked out, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth, and you practically jumped out of your skin when someone placed a hand on your shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t worry,” he said, his voice soft yet full of concern. Peter. “It's just me. What happened?”

The second he saw you walk out, he could tell something was off. He could literally sense the anxiety rolling off of you in waves. He had waited for you to look up and stop when you saw him, but you were just about to walk past him before he stopped you. Now, you were looking at him with distress coating every feature on your face. Your brows were pinched, your lip red from biting it, and your eyes wide and distant like you couldn’t even see him and he was standing right in front of you. Something had gone wrong and he wanted nothing more than to fix it. 

“What is it? What’s wrong? He asked frantically. 

“Oh my god,” you whispered, hands flying up to the sides of your head and gripping your hair. You weren’t looking at him anymore, “Oh my god.”

“Ok Y/N,” he said nervously, “you’re starting to scare me.”

“Two days Peter!” You looked at him wildly. “Two days! I can’t go over everything in two days, is he fucking insane? I didn’t even know he could do something like that, I mean, can he do something like that? I feel like that shouldn’t be allowed it should—”

You cut yourself off and started pacing back and forth in front of him. “Oh my god, I’m gonna bomb this. And if I fail, it’ll bring my whole grade down! I can’t afford that I—”

“Hey,” he repeated, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder again. “I said I’m gonna help you, and I meant it. So we’re gonna get through this together, even if we have to stay up all night.”

You stared at him, trying to wonder what you’d done in your life to deserve such an angel. 

You shook your head quickly, “I really appreciate that Peter, but I’m serious. There’s no way I can learn everything I need to know that fast.”

You tried to smile at him but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

He grinned, his expression the total opposite of yours. “Well, you’ve clearly never studied with me, so don’t sound too sure yet.”

Another thing you’d come to realize was just how smart Peter was. 

You really should’ve known when he told you he’d taken that advanced chemistry class a year ago. And passed. 

Looking through his notes, you could see his attention to detail. He really wasn’t a slacker in the classroom because everything was clearly laid out here. 

You’d spent that night going over everything and you’d actually started to feel hopeful about it. Peter was a way better teacher than Professor Hall, and it didn’t hurt that he was so cute. He was understanding with everything and was willing to go over any part for as long as it took for you to fully grasp it. 

At the end of the night, he’d undone the wrappings around your hand, reapplied the cream for you, and wrapped it up again.

“It’s doing okay,” he reassured you. “Like I said, it’s gonna take a while, but if it starts hurting or anything, take some medicine. Then find me.”

You were sure you’d just melted into his hands at that moment.

The next day, you couldn’t wait to get through everything and see him again, even if you were going to be talking about chemistry. 

You weren’t scheduled to work at the cafe today, so you’d only get to meet up after both of your classes. 

Lectures were a blur, nothing really catching your attention and you spent most of the time with your phone tucked in your hand texting back and forth with Peter, barely concealing your laughter when he sent you memes. 

It was like that all day, until, finally, you made your way over to his small apartment he shared with one of his friends. 

its very quaint 🤌

(totally NOT what we say to make ourselves feel better about this shoebox)

He’d told you over text, making you laugh out loud as you made your way over there. 

dw🫡 I was one of those kids who used to live in their play tents and hid in random corners and spaces

im totally ready for this

ok but be warned, we do not have a pet!!! they are not allowed per our lease!!! ignore the cat when you come in!!! tell no one!!!

what cat ??

good girl ;)

Your face flushed as you made your way up the steps to his door. You knocked three times and barely had to wait a second before Peter stood before you, holding the door open. 

“Hi,” he said, smiling at you. 

“Hi,” you grinned back. You heard a small ‘meow’ come from behind him and he quickly held up a finger to his lips. You covered your mouth, stifling a laugh as you nodded at him. 

“Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way to lead you through the door. You stepped in and kicked off your shoes before looking around. It was plain, but that was to be expected really. 

There was a large poster hanging next to their TV, however, that caught your eye. “Big fan?” You asked him, shoving your thumb in the direction of the Star Wars poster. 

He shrugged nonchalantly, “Kind of.”

“Oh. Well, I was just asking because I love those movies. My little brother used to watch them and I got really into it.”

“Oh. I mean—I don’t know what I was saying before I love them too.” He rushed out, making you giggle.

He stayed staring at you for a bit, his eyes rounding out and his mouth gaping a little bit. 

You gave him a small smile, “Okay, well we should-” You let out a small yelp, hands flying to your mouth as you jumped back. 

The living room was small. The only things occupying it were the TV mounted to the wall, and in front of it, was a sofa. And on the sofa, was an unconscious body that you hadn’t noticed until it let out a low groan. You really weren’t sure how you missed it, there wasn’t much else to look at, but they had just been so still. 

Heart beating erratically, you turned towards Peter again, who was looking at you with all the amusement in the world written all over his face. “Was he always there,” you whispered, eyes wide.

He opened his arms, “Well, angel, I really don’t know. Did you see anyone come in?”

“Oh shut up,” you grumbled. “He looks familiar…is that..”

“Freddy.” He finished for you. Right. The dude from the cafe. 

“He crashes here sometimes.” He added.

You nodded. “Alright.”

“Shall we?” He opened a door beside him and looked at you. 

“Right. Yeah, of course.” You walked past him and into his room. You stopped after you entered, taking a moment to look around. His room was simple, with just his bed, a desk and chair, and a dresser perched next to another door you assumed was his closet. 

What really caught your attention, however, were the photos scattered all over the walls. The room was practically engulfed in Peter Parker’s memories, and you really liked it. Without thinking, you approached one wall, walking through them and taking each one in. 

There were some with large groups of people, those looked like school trips. Most of the photos were of the same two people, and based on what he’d told you, you assumed those were his friends. Ned and MJ. 

A lot of the photos contained an older woman, who looked stunning. That had to be his Aunt May. You were shocked by how many photos he had with the Tony Stark. He’d told you he had an internship at Stark Industries, but really, you sorta thought he just went on coffee runs all day. 

And then, you saw a couple shots of Spider-Man. It wasn’t unusual, you knew a lot of people snapped photos of the masked hero when they spotted him around the city. What was unusual, was the quality of the photos. You didn’t know if you’d ever seen such clear photos of him, even on the news, as he was always swinging and in motion. In these, Peter seemed to have caught him at just the right time. You wondered how long it took him to capture the photos.

“Big fan?” You smirked over at him from your spot by one of the Spider-Man photos as you repeated your words from earlier. 

Peter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, content with watching go over the details of his life. He felt a little naked, like he was bared out in front of you. But…it felt good too. He liked knowing you were learning new things about him, and curious to know more. It filled him with an anxious sort of giddiness.

“You first,” he said slyly.

Laughing, you said, “Well, I don’t see how anyone can hate on the guy. He literally runs around saving lives”

He laughed as he approached you, standing by your side. You’d be surprised. “True I guess.”

“We should get to studying,” you said, breezing past him, your hand brushing his bicep as you did. He sucked in a breath, his entire body feeling electrocuted after that one touch. He wondered how you seemed so normal, laying out your books and papers on the floor beside his bed. 

This was gonna be a long night. 

He cleared his throat and moved to sit across from you, hoping he didn’t look as flushed as he felt. 

After a few moments of him watching you get settled, you heard him start laughing. Looking up you asked, “What’s so funny?”

That only made him laugh harder. “Just thinking about how scared you got before. Did you really not see him?”

You felt your face go hot. “I didn’t! I had no clue he was there, and next thing I know he’s making lawn mower nosies!”

Peter was red in the face now. “The way you flew back,” he said between fits of laughter, ���I thought you’d give yourself whiplash.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled at him, picking up one of your pens and throwing it at him. It bounced off without him even flinching. 

You looked down, avoiding his gaze by busying yourself with your papers. 

“Okay I’m ready to be serious now,” he said. The laughter was gone but amusement twinkled in his voice. 

“Great! Welcome back Pete, now hand me that pen, I’m gonna need it.”

Two hours later, you were both sprawled across the floor tossing Chess-Its at one another. 

“Come on!” You threw your arms up in defeat when you threw another cracker at him just for him to catch it again. 

Peter chuckled, “Sorry angel, I’ve just got killer reflexes.”

“Alright whatever,” You rolled your eyes. “Come on, throw some at me.”

You opened your mouth, ready to finally win one round of this nonsense…just for a Cheez-It to hit your cheek and fall to the ground with the rest of your tries. 

Peter laughed while you sat up, reached to grab the box of crackers, and poured some into your hand before putting it back down. 

“Okay, I’m done. I actually want to eat them now.” You said, munching on a cracker and sitting against the side of his bed. 

“Oh come on, don’t be a quitter Y/N/N,” he grinned, leaning over and pinching your cheek. 

You swatted his hand away with your empty one. “M’not.”

He smiled at you before sitting up. “Hit me,” he said, opening his mouth and pointing at it. 

You grabbed a Cheez-It from the palm of your hand and made a big show of trying to get your aim right. Squinting one eye, you stared at him, moving your hand back and forth before tossing it slightly more to the right. On purpose. 

That didn’t stop him from leaning over and catching it in his mouth. 

“I don’t like this game,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. 

“Don’t act like I don’t know what you did,” he said back, munching on his Cheez-it. 

“Sue me,” you told him, brushing him off with a wave of your hand. 

He laughed before he settled down. “How’s your hand feeling by the way.” His voice was considerably softer now, making you smile softly at him. 

“It’s doing great, thank you again, Peter. I would’ve been totally fucked if it weren’t for you,” you told him honestly. 

He shook his head, “Don’t thank me at all Y/N. Hate seeing you hurt,” he mumbled, less to you and more to himself and he stayed staring at your wrapped-up hand. 

“Well don’t worry about that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

“Yeah?” He looked at you suddenly, like he needed to know you meant it. 

“Yeah,” you nodded at him. 

“That’s good,” he breathed out and your heart squeezed at how much he seemed to care. 

“What's your plan? Y’know, for after school?” You didn’t want to leave just yet, even with your studying done. And you wanted to know more about him. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t taken a certain liking to him lately. 

“Well after I get my degree, I’m going move up a little further in Stark Industries. I’m still undecided on grad school, I think I’ve got everything I need and I’m probably just gonna start saving up to pay off student loans instead of adding on them.”

You nodded at him, “So the Stark internship is going well? No offense, I sort of thought you were their coffee mule.” You grinned at him before popping a Cheez-It in your mouth. 

He scoffed, “No, I’m not. I mean, it did take a while to get them to take me seriously, but I got there!”

You laughed, “Well, very proud of you Pete. That’s super impressive.”

He grinned at you, his face heating up at your words. He wondered if you knew how much it affected him every time you called him Pete. Probably not, but he never wanted you to stop. 

You two stayed like that for another hour or so, time passing by without you noticing at all. You talked about your futures, where you say yourselves after school, and after that. Your admiration for him only grew as you got to know him more. You could talk to him all night and never get bored honestly, you-

Shit. 

A random notification lit up your phone, which lay beside you on the floor, making you take notice of the time. 

You sat up quickly, spitting out curses as you started gathering your belongings and shoving them into your bag. 

Peter sat up as well, helping you get your things together but in a calmer manner than yourself. 

“Relax Y/N,” he said in a soothing voice. 

“Pete I can’t do it.” You turned to him suddenly, dropping everything in your hands. 

“Do what, angel?”

“The exam is tomorrow. I’m not ready! I’m gonna fail, and that one grade, that one stupid grade, is gonna hold me back and ruin everything-”

“Sweetheart look at me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. His grip was warm and reassuring. “You are not going to fail. And I know this because I’ve spent the last few hours studying with you, and I saw how smart you are, and how quick you caught on. You’re gonna walk in there tomorrow and ace that test, I know you are!

“And if for some reason you don’t,” he continued, “you gave it your best. You tried your hardest and you learned something, which is all that matters in the end. So breathe, stop stressing, and let me walk you home.”

“All that talk as an excuse to ask to take me home?” You snorted, “Peter you shouldn’t have.” Despite your jokes, you took his advice and took a deep breath. He was right, you’d studied your hardest, both with and without his help. All you could do was take the exam and hope for the best now.

He laughed and stood up, holding out a hand once he saw you all packed and ready. “Caught me. So is that a yes?”

You took his hand and pulled yourself up but didn’t let go right away. “If I fail, do we have to stop hanging out? Y’know, with you being a science prodigy and all.”

He laughed again and placed both his hands on your shoulder, staring straight into your eyes. “Never.”

“Ok, well, just making sure. I wouldn’t wanna give you a bad rep in the science community or something-”

You were suddenly cut off from your babbling when he pressed his lips to yours. You froze for a second, unsure what to do, but it didn’t take long for you to catch up and kiss him back. 

He pulled away after a few moments, “Done with the jokes?” His voice was soft and teasing.

“Uh huh,” you mumbled, eyes still closed. “But I think you might need to do that again, just to be sure.”

He chuckled murmuring something that sounded like ‘too cute’ but you couldn’t be bothered to hear when you felt his lips on yours again, this time, expecting them. 

You threw your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and canting your head slightly for better access. He groaned, one arm wrapping around your middle, the other settling on your waist.

You might have pictured kissing him before, just maybe. But none of your daydreaming could’ve prepared you for the real thing. The way his bottom lip covered your top one, the soft breaths exchanged between the two of you, the way he pressed himself further into you when you tugged his hair a little harder. This definitely beat all of your daydreams. 

You could’ve stayed that way forever, and you probably would’ve if Peter hadn’t taken one for the team and pulled away first. 

Or tried to, at least. 

“We should-” kiss. 

“You-” kiss. 

“I need to walk,” kiss, “-you home angel.” He murmured against your lips.

“Okay,” you whispered back but you didn’t move to pull away, and he didn’t push you. The two of you stayed stuck, foreheads pressed together, eyes closed, taking in the atmosphere of each other. 

“I should probably go now,” you said softly. Peter hummed in agreement, leaning in to peck your lips gently. 

“It’s getting late,” but your voice is more of a sigh. You don’t know what he’s laced his lips with but each kiss makes you weak in the knees and woozier than the last one.

“God, d’yknow I’ve had the biggest crush on you.” He said, completely disregarding your previous statement. 

That stops you. “What?” You asked him in disbelief. Peter had a crush on you? No way, you would’ve known. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “don’t act so shocked. I was always a stuttering mess at work whenever you so much as looked at me.”

True. But you’d just thought he was a bit more on the shy side. 

“I’d seen you around campus before and I thought you were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen, and I still do, but I thought I had no shot in hell with you. And when I got the job at the cafe and saw I’d be working with you? I almost lost my fucking mind sweetheart.” You both laughed a little and you couldn’t help the way your cheeks flamed up because of his words. Did he have any clue what he was doing to you right now?

“So I just sorta kept my distance, y’know? Admired you from afar ‘cause I was too scared you’d reject me. Sadly, it only took you nearly burning your hand off,” he gave you a look and you burst into giggles, him doing you and slightly pinching your waist, “for me to get over myself and actually keep up a conversation with you. But now I’ve got you in my room, kissing me.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, “lucky you.” You joked as leaned in to press another kiss to his lips. 

“Lucky me indeed,” he murmured before pulling you in even deeper. He dipped you, making you squeal into the kiss. Then he pulled you up, unable to keep the kiss going any longer with how hard he was grinning.

“Oh my god,” you said, laughing breathlessly. 

“A lot more where that came from,” he smirked at you. 

“You know,” you moved to pick up your bag, “for someone who was so scared to talk to me for so long, you sure found the confidence now.”

“What can I say? You make it easy. Once I started I couldn’t stop.” You smiled at him as he gently placed a hand on your arm leading you to the door. The living room was empty now, no one to be found on the couch or otherwise and you wondered where their cat had wandered off to.

You bent over to put on your shoes, Peter doing the same. He stepped forward and opened the door for you, letting you step out before following you and locking the door. 

As soon as he was done with that, you reached over and grabbed his hand. “Hey Petey?” You said lightly. Oh, he was going to melt. From now on, he only wanted you to call him that.

“Hm?”

“I’m glad you finally decided to talk to me.” 

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head. “Yeah? Me too angel.”

The next morning, you awoke in the brightest mood, considering you had a chemistry exam later that day. All you could think about was Peter. You were going to see him later at the cafe and you couldn’t wait. 

You leaned over in bed to pick up your phone. Speak of the devil. 

GOOD MORNINGGGGG❤️

hope you slept well angel, can’t wait to see you today. and you’re gonna totally ace that exam!🥰

seriously you’re going to kick chemistry’s butt

A huge smile bloomed on your face, almost hurting from how wide it was. Usually, you'd stay in bed for a while, scrolling through Instagram or just going through messages or something. Not today, you couldn’t wait to get to work. Maybe Peter was a good influence on you. 

After getting ready for the day, you made your way to the cafe with a little bounce in your steps. The bell jingled above you as you opened the door and for the first time since you’d started working together, Peter was here before you. 

“Hey,” he smiled, holding up your usual drink order and waving it at you. 

“Hi Pete,” you approached his, leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. As you pulled away, you could see how quickly his cheeks pinked, making you grin. 

“No ‘Petey’?”

“Didn’t know you had a preference,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling it towards you as you took a sip from the drink and then moved to get dressed for your shift. 

“Yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, wishing he could feel your hand on his for just a little longer, “neither did I.”

You laughed lightly as you tied your apron, the sound hitting him like the greatest melody in the world. 

“Okay then,” you walked towards him, stopping right in front of him, “let’s start over. Hi Petey.”

“Hi angel,” he gave you a dopey grin and you returned it. 

“Great, now that we’ve got that figured out.” You patted his chest lightly before taking the drink from his hands and moving away. 

“Hey wait! Where’s my kiss?” He pouted at you and he looked so adorable, you just wanted to pinch his cheeks and kiss him till he begged you to stop.

“We’re at work, we’ve gotta be professional.” You said matter-of-factly. 

He rolled his eyes, leaned against the counter, and crossed his arms. “Professional my ass, no one is even in here-,”

Before he could even close his mouth, the bell jingled, and in stepped a boy about your age. The boy moved to one of the chairs, not moving to order just yet, giving you the chance to smirk at Peter, who just rolled his eyes again. 

“What do you he’s gonna order,” he asked you.

“Hmm…a cookie, probably.” You moved lean against the counter across from him and took a sip of your drink as you smiled. 

“Hey wait, you never told me what your drink order is.”

“Hmm…” he hummed in consideration before he moved towards you, grabbing your hand with the drink and bringing it up to his lips to steal a sip, maintaining eye contact the whole time. 

“I’ve got to say,” he said in a low voice, “this one has really grown on me.”

You couldn’t look away, all you could do was stare. And stare, and stare, and stare…

A stranger’s voice, and then, “Hey, can I get one of those double chocolate chip cookies?”

You were just on cloud nine today. 

You had taken your exam and for the first time ever in that class, you had felt confident in your work. 

And to top it all off, after you’d handed in your paper and packed your things to leave, Professor Hall had given you a ‘well done’ nod. You! He’d never noticed you positively before. You were going to need to drown Peter in thank-you kisses for his help. 

Speaking of Peter, you couldn’t wait to see him. He told you he’d be waiting for you after your class but when you stepped outside, there was no sign of him. You decided to sit on the building steps and wait. He was probably just running a little late, no biggie. 

Big biggie. After 40 minutes of waiting for him, during which you’d sent him a little text and he hadn’t responded, you decided to head over to his place. 

The walk was short and your little buzz had worn off after not getting to share it with Peter. After all, you kind of owed him most of the credit. You arrived at his apartment door, and when you knocked, it wasn't Peter who answered. 

It's Freddy. 

You throw on a smile. “Hi Freddy, is Peter home?”

He returned your smile as he said, “‘Sup Y/N.” He held out his fist and you stared at it for a while before you got the hint and bumped it with your own. “Pete’s not home right now, but you can totally come in and wait for him.”

You found it funny that someone who didn’t live there was inviting you in to stay, but you accepted anyway. You also had no clue how he knew your name. 

You knew little about Freddy, but you knew he was sort of a campus celebrity. Every raging party there was, everyone knew Freddy was behind it. 

“So,” you said as you walked in, “what year are you in Freddy?”

“Ah nah, I’m done with that shit. I took the bar,” he said casually, waving a hand and moving to sit on the couch. He kicked his feet up on the large Amazon box being used as a coffee table and picked up the open beer sitting atop it. 

You stood in your place, clutching your bag. He was in grad school?

“Oh that’s awesome dude, did you not pass or something.”

“Uh uh,” he shook his head, taking a swig of beer, “got a 350.”

Your eyes widened. What. You didn’t know much about law school but you knew getting a score like that on the bar was not an easy thing. 

“Wait when’d you take it?” You asked confused. The bar exam wasn’t scheduled for a few months from now. 

“Last year.”

“Do you like…work at a firm or something?” It was insane to you that the party animal of this school had already graduated, and with an amazing score nonetheless. 

He shook his head, “Workin' on my music right now, and if that doesn’t work out,” he gave you a wicked grin, “well I’ve always got my law degree.”

You nodded, stunned. “That’s sick dude. Good luck,” you told him, waving as you moved to wait in Peter’s room. 

“Keep the door cracked kids,” he shouted towards you and you huffed a laugh as you entered the room and closed the door (leaving it open just an inch) before you sat at the foot of his bed. 

You looked around for a second, taking it all in. It’s amazing how he managed to take this small space and make it so him. 

After a few moments, you took out your phone to shoot him another text. 

But before you could finish typing it out, the window beside you started opening and you watched as the Spider-Man fell onto the bed, not noticing you gaping right next to him. 

You stayed silent, unsure of what to do or say until he moved to take his mask off. That got you moving and talking. 

“Holy fuck!” You basically shout, moving away, hands flying to your mouth. 

He seemed to be just as shocked as you were because he scrambled up from his lying position. And staring back at you was Peter Parker. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked you, eyes wide. It wasn’t till then that you noticed the paleness of his features, his face lacking that usually healthy glow it held, the waver in his voice, and the hand clutching his bloody side. 

“Holy fuck,” you repeated, voice lower, and for a whole different reason this time. “Shit Peter, you’re hurt.” You moved closer to him, temporarily forgetting everything else as your hand reached to gently remove his so you could take in the extent of his injuries. 

“It’s nothing,” he said but made no move to shove you away or stop you. You moved his hand and winced at the sight that greeted you, “Looks like a whole lot more than nothing babe.”

“I’ve had worse.”

You look up at him, frowning slightly, “Not exactly reassuring Petey.”

“I feel all better now,” he said, shooting you a charming grin as soon as he heard the nickname leave your mouth. “Add a kiss in the mix, and I’ll be good as new.”

You huffed a laugh, shoving his knee slightly, “Shut up Peter. I’m serious. I’m sure you’ve got some experience with stuff like this,” you wave a hand towards his suit and injury for emphasis and he gives you a quick nod. 

“Over there,” he pointed toward his dresser, “top shelf, under the blue sweater.”

You rushed over there, opening the drawer and spotting the sweater he mentioned. “I’m totally stealing that from you someday, this is your heads up,” you told him as you grabbed the large box and completely closed the door before you moved back to his side. 

“You can have anything of mine, Angel. I’m sure you’d look better in it anyway.” His words made you blush, but you tried to ignore them so you could focus on the task at hand. 

Peter, however, found that he really liked watching your cheeks pink up. And he wanted more. 

“Lean against the headboard, now.” You said, trying to be serious again. 

“God, at least buy me dinner first sweetheart.” He gave you the dorkiest smirk you’d ever seen. You just glared at him. “On the other hand,” he said as he moved backward to lean against his headboard, “I don’t need dinner, I’m all yours baby girl.”

This got you to laugh, “Peter, be serious! You’re bleeding out!” You moved to his side, “take this off by the way.” You gestured to his suit. 

He hit the middle emblem of a spider and you watched as it loosened up and fell off his shoulders. You had started pulling it the rest of the way down, gulping when you realized he wasn’t wearing anything else, when he mumbled, “Not a terrible way to go.”

You refused to look up and meet his eyes but he knew he got you. Thank god he was wearing underwear, you realized, and you threw the suit to the side after you’d completely shredded him of it. He was definitely going to need a new one. 

Now completely facing the damage, your stomach churned, and you were hit with the hard truth. “I…I don’t know what to do,” you whispered to him. You wanted to help him, more than anything. This man who’s been risking his life, probably since he was a teenager you realized, as you did the math silently in your head, was hurt and right in front of you, needing your help. And you needed to help him, but you didn’t know the first thing about how to approach a situation like this. You were surprised you could stare at the wound for so long. 

“Don’t worry, I can do it,” he said gently, his bloody hand reaching for the huge first aid kit. 

“No!” You rushed out, grabbing his hand to stop him, “No way am I letting you do that! Just…just tell me what to do and I’ll do it.

Feeling more confident, you grabbed the kit and opened it. Shock coursed you as you realized just how much he went through and your confidence fell right back down where it sprouted from. The bag was full of all the medical tools and supplies you could think of, most of them completely foreign to you, and you realized how privileged you must be to not recognize any of these things. You can’t imagine the ‘worse’ he talked about having earlier. This must be those accidents he was talking about.

“I don’t usually have to use them,” his voice was soft, almost like he was reassuring you, “usually just water and a towel does the trick. Maybe a little numbing cream. And these,” he looked down at his wounds, “some bandages, sure, but I won’t need stitches or anything.”

You let out a breath of relief, you weren’t sure you could’ve handled that. You didn’t trust yourself.

“Okay,” you said, grabbing some wipes. You were going to do this. Based on what he’d told you, he was always stitching himself back up, just to hit the streets again the next day. This time, though, was different. This time you were here to help him, and you weren’t going chicken out of this. Even a little help was better than nothing at all. 

You started slowly, cleaning around his wounds so you could bandage them properly. “You sure you’re okay with this?” He asked you gently. “I totally understand if you need me to do it, angel, it’s a lot if you’re not used to it.”

“No,” you shook your head, your voice steady, “No way. It’s my turn to fix you up.” You told him, looking up to meet his eyes and smiling at him. 

He returned it and you went back to work. 

“So….Spider-Man, huh?” You peeked up quickly in question. 

“Yeah,” he took a deep breath, “it’s a long story. Basically, I was bit by some spider, that shit was powerful,” you laughed a little, making him smile. “And I got some. Of its powers I mean.”

“So you get bit by a spider, that spider gives you powers, and you decide to become a New York vigilante?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” he nodded, and you laughed again. 

“You’re a hell of a guy Peter Parker.” You said, shaking your head slightly. 

“Thank you, I try,” he smirked at you and you laughed again. 

“Okay,” you said, pulling away from his side. He almost whined in protest. Honestly, he wasn’t feeling any pain, not since you’d started worrying about him, and insisting you help him. Peter wasn’t used to that, he was always alone when it came to this part of the job. He’d never minded that before, just one of the things he had to deal with as a superhero, but now that someone else was taking care of him…it felt nice. Really nice. Especially when it was you. 

“Peter?” You looked at him questioningly. Shit. You’d asked him something.  

“Huh? I'm sorry, I didn’t hear you.” He said with wide eyes. He’d gotten too wrapped up in the feeling of being taken care of, not that anyone could blame him though, the girl he’d been crushing on forever was here, in his room, helping bandage him up! It's more than he could’ve dreamed of. 

“It’s okay sweetie,” you said, waving him off assuming he was in pain or something. Really, now he had something new to obsess over. Sweetie? While he was practically naked (albeit injured, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now) in bed with you? God, he could just melt.

“I was just wondering which bandages,” you said, holding up the different ones you’d found in his bag. 

“Oh,” he said lamely, “these ones.” He grabbed a few from you and opened them. 

“Look,” he said, leaning over himself to see his wounds properly, “you’ve got to bring together both sides of the wound, then secure the bandage so that it’s holding it closed.” He talked as he placed the first bandage with you watching and listening with intent. 

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” you said as you took the rest of the bandages from him. You steadied yourself, straddling his thigh as you started placing the bandages down his wound. The biggest gash took about five, your elbow resting on his abdomen as you got lower…and lower. 

Conveniently, you missed the quiver in his breath, too focused on the work at hand, but you didn’t miss the small gasp he let out when your forearm reached right between his thighs. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” You said as you pulled away quickly, thinking you’d hurt him. “Did I pinch too hard?”

“No, no angel, you’re fine. Doing a great job actually.” He replied, trying to collect himself. He could not let himself think of that right now. There were more important things at hand. 

“You sure?” You asked him, not looking convinced.

“Positive.” He replied, grabbing your arm and pulling you back in (but making sure to keep you at a healthy distance from his dick). 

You added a few more bandages, most of the cuts only needing one or two, before pulling away again to rummage through his bag. “What do you use on your bruises?”

“This one,” he said, leaning over you and grabbing a tube from the kit. You turned, your lips almost brushing over each other with how close you were. 

“Hi,” you whispered, all thoughts completely flying out of your head as you realized just how badly you wanted to kiss him. 

“Hi angel,” he said smiling softly at you. 

Seeing you debate it in your head, Peter decided it would be easier for the both of you if he did it first. Leaning in, he closed the distance and smoothly took your lips in his. You melted into the kiss right away, feeling like you’d been craving this your whole life when really, you’d just kissed his a few hours ago before you’d left work. 

Your hands were on his bare chest, you could feel every muscle, every move when-

“Wait, you’re hurt!” You pulled away, leaving a pouting Peter in your wake. 

“My lips work just fine angel,” he said, trying to steal another kiss while you tried to avoid him. 

“But..let me finish at least,” you mumbled against his lips, barely getting a chance to pull away after he’d caught you. 

“You can finish, just lemme do this first,” he responded before kissing you again.

“Hey,” you mumbled against his lips. 

He hummed in response, moving to kiss your cheek, your jawline. If he kept this up you might not try to stop him. 

“Did you know Freddy took the bar exam? And passed?”

That got him to pull away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking at you confusedly, “I’m kissing you and you decide this a good time to bring up Freddy?”

“Well, y’know,” you shrugged, “figured it was as good a time as any.”

He scoffed, “Unbelievable.”

You giggled, “I win.” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, pulling away before he could catch you and turn it into more.

“Now lay down, lemme do this,” you said waving the cream at him. 

He moved grumpily and you thought grumpy Peter was the cutest thing ever. The furrow of his brows, the slight pout of his lips. You could just kiss him. And you would’ve if you hadn’t known where it would lead you. 

You unscrewed the cap to the cream and started applying it gently. “So Fred’s a lawyer huh?” Peter spoke up. 

“He is!” You whispered excitedly, glad he was just as shocked as you were. 

“And you learned this how?” He asked, giving you a look. 

You shrugged. “He let me in and I talked to him, asked him a few questions to get to know him better since I see him everywhere.” 

“Wait, he’s here right now?”

“Yeah,” you said slowly, “I thought you knew?”

“No I didn’t-,” he let out a sigh, “whatever it's basically his apartment too at this point I guess.”

You laughed, “And you’re okay with that?”

He shrugged with his good side. “He buys the good beer.”

You laughed again. “He scored a 350 on the bar exam!”

Peter’s brows shot up. “Oh shit.”

“I know! The only thing I knew about him was that he blacked out in that frat house’s pool all night and the cops were called cause someone thought he was dead.”

“Yeah, he’s super lucky he was on his back. Just floated around the pool like a leaf.”

You shook your head, screwing the cap back on the tube of cream, “Crazy. But anyway, I’m done. And on the plus side,” you grinned at him, “if you ever get in legal trouble, you know someone!”

He laughed out loud, and you watched as his face scrunched up and he clutched his side in pain. Apologizing for the joke, you gave him a kiss on the cheek to make up for it. 

“Enough about crazy Freddy,” he let out a sigh, “I’m gonna go put some clothes on, and then I wanna cuddle with my girl.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and all you could do was smile as he stood up, giving you a kiss on the side of your head before he moved to pick out some clothes.

You watched him get dressed, biting your lip as you watched how his muscles rippled with each of his movements. You always knew he was strong but seeing him like that, was a completely different story. 

“Like what you see?” He asked, smirking at you before he lifted his shirt, holding it up between his teeth as he tied his sweatpants. 

Your mouth fell open. At being caught and also at…how absolutely hot he looked right now. If he wasn’t injured, you would be all. over. him. 

“S’alright angel,” he said as he stalked towards you. He was enjoying this, a lot. “I’m sure I’d be the same if the roles were reversed.”

That did not help. Now you were thinking about being naked in front of Peter and-

He laughed, kissed the side of your head again, and laid down, pulling next to him. 

“Careful Peter, you’re still hurt!” You chastised him. 

He shook his head, “You made me feel a hundred times better. Thank you, angel.”

“Of course Petey.” He smiled at you as he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight. 

“So, you came to see me right? Y’know, before the whole finding out I’m Spider-Man thing. What’s up?”

“Oh I almost forgot,” you perked up, tilting your head up so you could see his face, “I think I totally aced that chemistry exam!”

“Angel! I’m so proud of you!” He started attacking you with kisses, kissing you anywhere his lips could reach. 

You giggled, “Thank you sweetie, but seriously I owe you most of the credit, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Nonsense,” he shook his head, “that was all you. I barely helped, you learned everything and then took that quiz, and aced it.”

“Well I haven’t gotten my grade back yet, I just have a really good feeling, so don’t sound too are there's a chance I didn’t do as well as I thought.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the p. “I have a sense, a spidey sense. And my spidey sense is telling me that you totally aced that thing. No questions asked.”

You laughed loudly. “Spidey sense?”

“No questions,” he repeated as he nuzzled his nose into your hair. 

“Fine then,” you snuggled up further into him. “No questions.”

[tsxkkis]

# iwaizumi hajime - won't let go

a/n = i'm not the best at writing hurt/comfort type of stuff, but i hope this piece is alright ^^ also we love iwaizumi on this acc sm he's the man fr.

summary = after an argument, iwaizumi needs to apologize.

warnings = one swear word, argument, idk what else.

the sound of rain hitting the ground came from behind your window, being the only thing disrupting the silence inside. the storm was getting heavier with each passing hour, taking you and many others by surprise, since the last few weeks have all been sunny and warm. luckily you didn't go outside today; or the day before, or two days before, or ever since the argument.

the last thing you expected, in this type of weather especially, was to hear a knock on the door. you didn't order anything, and your parents were supposed to come back from their trip on sunday. so who could it possibly be?

you slowly opened the door only to be met with the tall, dark-haired boy, his clothes soaking wet from the rain, hair sticking to his forehead.

iwaizumi.

"what are you doing her-"

your words were quickly cut off by the boy, his eyes locked on the ground in front of him before his head went up, his focus now on your face.

"i'm sorry."

you were used to the fact that iwaizumi didn't show much emotion on his face, but you also knew one other thing. his eyes would always tell the truth. and right now, as you stared into them, you were positive about how genuine his words were.

"iwa, we can't go on like this if you don't trust me."

he knew you were right. after all, that was the most crucial part of a relationship; trusting one another wholeheartedly. and iwaizumi trusted you, there was no doubt of that. but something was different that day.

maybe it was the fact that he was mad after losing the match. maybe it was how jealous he was at the smile you gave to the karasuno members, how you celebrated with them after they won. but all of those things just rubbed him the wrong way.

he knew that you were their manager, but you were also his girlfriend. and something made him feel betrayed that day.

"maybe we shouldn't continue this, then."

his words felt like a knife going right through your heart. you could feel your eyes getting watery the very moment they left iwaizumi's mouth. as you looked down, trying to hold back the tears as well as thinking of what you should say back to him, you heard kiyoko, one of your fellow managers, calling you from the other side of the hall, since there was a team meeting before the next game.

you turned around and left, without a word, wiping away the single tear that managed to slip and roll down your cheek, assuring your friends that yes, everything is okay.

oh, what a lie that was.

you didn't see him since last week. in the meantime, karasuno managed to win the final and secure their place in nationals, and as happy as you were for your team, you couldn't help but shake the sadness away after what happened between you and iwaizumi.

"come inside. you're gonna catch a cold." a deep sigh left your lips as you gestured for him to enter the house, closing the door behind him. you quickly turned around heading towards the bathroom. "you're soaking wet. i'll grab you a towel."

"please, listen to me first." iwaizumi's voice sounded desperate as it echoed from behind you, his hand reaching out to gently grab you by the arm.

"not until i'm sure you won't get sick." you looked at him for a spare second, and he decided not to stop you. he waited patiently in the hallway, reaching out to take the towel you handed him the moment you stepped out of the bathroom, along with a hoodie and pants for him to change into.

his hoodie and his pants. ones that he left in your house on purpose, ones you always used as pajamas when the nights got cold.

as you stood there in silence, watching iwaizumi dry his hair, you couldn't help but realize how awkward it all felt. it was never this way between you two; you could spend hours without speaking, just spending quality time with each other and it just felt right. but now, after the argument it was different. and you didn't enjoy that at all.

"i'm sorry. about what i said after the game." he took a deep breath, looking up at you, his words disrupting the silence. "i was just, jealous. and mad. i was mad after losing that match, and it made me even more furious to see that you were so, happy."

you didn't bother to interrupt him, letting him explain everything.

"i know you're their manager, and you felt happy your team won. i completely understand that. it would be weird if you weren't cheering them on. i just couldn't help but feel bad." his eyes were glued to the floor, the overwhelming feeling of shame taking over him. "i know that i fucked up, really badly, and there's nothing to excuse what i said that day." iwaizumi could feel the tears starting to form, but he did his best not to let them spill, a shaky breath escaping his lips. "i just need you to know that- that i don't feel that way. i don't think we shouldn't continue this thing that we have. because i love you. i love you too much to lose you like this, to lose you because of my stupid actions."

your eyes widened at his words. there it was.

the first time he ever said those words.

you took a step towards him, your hand reaching out to gently lay down on his cheek, a small yet warm and gentle smile gracing your face.

"it's okay, hajime." your words sounded so soothing to him, you're voice calming and soft, even though millions of emotions were going through you that moment. "i accept your apology. i just couldn't help but feel hurt by your words that day, you know. i think it's quite understandable."

he looked up at you, nodding in response, as his hand instinctively went up to yours, thumb trailing little circles on the outer part of it.

"and, one more thing." he had a questioning look on his face, his head tilted to the side as he heard your words, your body moving just a little bit closer to him. "i love you too."

a shy smile appeared on his face, his fingers interlocked with yours as you stared at each other, both happy inside that this situation was over with.

"it's still raining. you can stay here until it stops, if you want."

iwaizumi squeezed your hand, his smile noticeably growing as he heard it.

"i would love to."

taglist: @ox1-lovesick @moonswolfie @wyrcan

[allison3k0]

Went to see Mr S after school again today!

I realized I never got to ask him about his summer so I did, he said he went camping and fishing (Oml he's even woodsy like that's epic), and I mentioned how I went fishing and canoeing with my dad this summer too. We also talked about what classes he's teaching this semester and what classes he's teaching next semester, I mentioned how I may swap my spare (no class that period) for a co-op at a nearby elementary school, but it would be half the day and I can't do that cuz I need 3 classes to be considered a full time student, so I mentioned that I may swap it for peer helping (being a TA) instead. He asked what period my spare was and I said 3 and he said that he (most likely) has a math class that period, so I said "Well, if you need a peer helper, I'll have a spare" and I laughed cuz oml how was I that bold??? And my bestie M was there with me the whole time and just stared into the abyss cuz she's so done with me talking about Mr S and going to see him after school. Anyways, Mr S was super smiley again and was talking to me in a genuine tone (not his teacher voice yk) and sharing about himself in our convo, which made me really happy. He also did his hrrhrr laugh so it was amazing. It's good to know he's getting more comfortable with me. He also asked my Bestie M about her day and asked if we're both still in band and asked more about band and mentioned that we have band really early in the morning. I said "Yeah, well it's like, you don't wanna get out of bed cuz it's so early but once you're there, it doesn't really matter, you're just kinda there." and he was like "Well, yeah, it's the getting out of bed part that's hard though. *Hrrhrr laugh and wide ass smile and I think he whitened his teeth cuz they were so bright*" LIKE OMG HE'S ADORABLE AND I LOVE HIM-

Also, I was lowkey being bold today, cuz he mentioned how he had tech design to teach next semester and I said "Man, I wish I could've taken tech design, but I had to take music instead. (I really love music class)" and bestie M was like "Had to?" and I said "Yes, had to, I can't just not take music." and Mr S said "It's okay, I understand." and I said "Well, if you ever have more field trips, feel free to invite me" and Mr S nodded and bestie M said "Oh my lord" and I said "What! I had fun on those field trips, and we got free pizza!" which made Mr S laugh, it was cute. Then he talked about how he enjoyed the field trip too and it was nice that we got lunch and everything was free cuz we got the bus sponsored. Idk, the whole convo was like a normal convo but he just seemed so happy that I was there. Idk if I'm reading too much into just a friendly action but I have to admit, there's no way he doesn't at least want to be friends.

I forgot to mention that when we were leaving the classroom (me, my Bestie M and my other friend), he locked up the door and as he was closing the door we continued to talk for a few seconds and he was making direct eye contact and he was like maybe a foot away from me (which is close considering how far away we usually sit which is like 3 - 4 feet away) I was just staring at his eyes but also looking at his other features when they were so defined as he was close, and his eyes were so full of emotion and joy and light, he's so adorable. Also he apparently took a music class in high school and played bass guitar, which I find insanely attractive and I imagined him playing the bass and was instantly more attracted to him. Y'all, what do I do, it's my last year and my feelings for him are only growing 😭😭😭 AND GOSH DANG IT I FORGOT TO TAKE A SELFIE WITH HIM 😭 (I plan to take a selfie with all my favorite teachers by the end of the year, basically just an excuse to take a picture with Mr S but also for memories...)

Also y'all, I'm so scared if my parents ever find out that I was staying to talk to him after school, cuz I haven't even done anything with Mr S but my parents would make sure nothing happened, which would be embarrassing and they would see me in a bad light and I don't want that...

[sheenashifts1217]

hello! ^-^ i just saw your post about shufflemancy, and if you're still taking requests, i would love to get a message from dean winchester (he/him) from my supernatural dr.

my name is ange or angelica (she/her). i don't really have any specific questions. anything that comes through i will be happy with!

tysm for doing this for the community!! getting a reading helps so much with motivation it's crazy 🫶 and i personally LOVE shufflemancy because music means so much to me. if you decide to do this, please take your time, i'm in no rush. take care!! 🫂💕

Hello, pretty!! You’re so kind. I love doing shufflemancy and learning more about it. I love it so much because music means a lot to me as well. Im also really excited to do this reading because I love supernatural!

What Dean wants to say to you:

First song:

Lyrics standing out:

“I’m so glad you made time to see me

Your guard is up

I left them there to die

This is me swallowing my pride

I’m sorry

Nothing but missing you

Wishing I realized

All the time

I haven’t been sleeping

Your birthday passed

Watch you laughing from the passenger side (I literally saw you laughing in his impala while y’all ride with the windows down. Sam sitting in the back seat pouting)

Gave me all your love (he feels that you’re the best thing that has and will ever happen to him. Awww)

Freedom

Change my own mind

Your sweet smile

So good to me

So right

You saw me cry

I swear I’d love you right

I’d go back in time and change it, but I can’t”

Oh girl, the love this man feels for you is DEEP. I’m picking up on a slow burn between you guys in the past. He hates that his guard was up so high when you guys first met or maybe started getting close and he pushed you away at first. He hates that he did that and he’s so sorry. But, you stayed anyway, even when he did push you away and he’s very grateful for that. He’s almost jealous of you because of how kind hearted and patient you are with him. It pisses him off lmao. He wants to be more like you. He says, “you make me better”. He worries he will ruin you or take away your “Pureness”, but he will never leave you. He doesn’t like that you put yourself in danger for him. He feels like he doesn’t deserve it. He wants you to hold him at night. He has a soft spot for you, but he said “you already know that”. Ever since that day you saw him at his most vulnerable and showed him that it’s okay to be vulnerable and you accept him, he’s felt like he owes you the world. He loves you so much and wants to keep you pure.

Second song:

Lyrics standing out:

“Feeling destructive

Let me break it down

Build it up

Let me be honest

Wanted to protect you

We ain’t that different (he sees himself in you, the part of him that he thought he lost)

Don’t you walk away from me

See the mansions

Falling for weakness

I know you love when I sing

Pray I get through”

Idk why, but I kept seeing that scene of him as a kid at Christmas time. He’s a self destructive person due to the trauma he’s been through. He doesn’t want to put that onto you, but he knows you’re willing to listen. He needs your reassurance. He’s afraid of saying too much and scaring you away. He sees himself in you, the part he locked away because he thought it made him weak. You amaze him because you’re like that part of him but you’re so strong. You make him feel like a kid again. He wants to sheild you from the world and wants you to always come to him and open up. He also LOVES your car rides together and when you tell him he’s a bad singer. He really loves your smile and always wants to be the reason for it. He also really wants to dance with you.

Overall, Dean put up a lot of walls in his past and didn’t know what to do when you broke them down. Im hearing “Heart attack”, by One Direction, playing in my head. That may mean something to you. He’s so happy you tore those walls down. Now he needs you to guide him without him. Like a horse getting used to not having to wear blinders anymore. Like he has so much freedom now, he doesn’t know how to use it. He wants to be able to guide you in the same way. He would give you the world. He loves how you two are playful with each other and have a very “puppy love” relationship.

Happy shifting, my love. I hope this resonates and please give feedback :) 🫶💗

Edit: also, I’m not sure if he is your s/o or not. I picked up on either him being your s/o, but I also kind of felt like a best friend kind of energy. Could be a best friends to lovers? Either way, he loves you deeply and wants you to know that. Whether it be platonically or romantically

[taurtise]

Fic Notes

Just typing them out since there's a lot and it's easier just to type it, and better for anyone who has a hard time just reading/needs a screen reader

Super long so, enjoy <3 If you wanna do stuff with any of this you can, just leave credit or a note to me if you take heavy/direct inspo and stuff from it

Early game/kinda set-up stuff: Scar talks to Grian being like "hey man. You seem stressed and territorial, you good? Oh. Oh you have a refugee, okay cool. Can I give him cookies?"

Taurtis and Pearl are besties bc I say so. Pearl's favorite past time with him is picking his brain for stuff that he's seen but she hasn't before, and they bond over liking weird alien stuff. She shows him her collection and 1.18 update investigation room.

-

Scar "you can't keep him in your house forever, G."

Gri "And why not!"

Scar "He's a person! How would you feel if you were holed up in someone's house and not allowed to leave?"

Gri "Shut up." (Cause, yknow, Sam locked him in the basement for three days that one time)

(Taurtis wouldn't actually be unallowed to leave, Grian would just be wary and anxious and paranoid about it)

-

Late night bed talks. One being where Taurtis asks "Grian, am I funny?" and G goes "Yeah, you're really funny. What, did you make a lame dad joke today?" And Taurtis pauses a bit before rolling onto his side, facing away and responding "Oh yeah, it was a super lame joke." And Grian kinda catches on that, hey this is weird behavior for Taurtis, and decides to confront him about it, hence these lines:

T "What, am I just comedic relief to you? Is that still all I am?"

G "You've always been more than just a joke, don't say that."

-

Mid-game: Scar's "Hey man you're a bit off" turns to "dude you're extremely bad right now. You need to relax. It's okay. Chill pill, my dude." And Grian is a stubborn bitch that keeps pushing his help away, so Scar tries to get Taurtis to help him with Grian.

Winter hits and Grian spends most of his days sleeping due to instincts, or something, idk it's an excuse to make him sleep and have Taurtis be crazy amounts of domestic with him. Taurtis "accidentally" makes too much breakfast to finish on his own so he wakes up Grian to share it with him. (He called Scar to see if he'd want it, not wanting to wake Grian, but Scar told him it'd be good for the pesky bird to have a meal before sleeping more)

Grian starts seeing shit due to his stress and the fact that the watchers have been following Taurtis this whole time without him realizing up to a certain point. Inspired by me seeing the foggy moon and going "huh that looks like a watcher eye." Thank you, Grian introject moment, pogchamp.

Xisuma starts asking people during casual chats if they've noticed anything different about the server. When he asks Grian, G lies and says he hasn't when he knows the watchers have found a way to get to Hermitcraft too, not wanting to expose himself and risk being looked into deeper from before joining HC. They know him and Pearl were in a server before, but not that it was a server full of watchers and eventual destruction. This causes Grian to get more stressed, develop worse insomnia, and try and figure out a way to send Taurtis home faster. He tries to ignore the inner misery and prioritize the safety of everyone else, but internally struggles with reassuring himself that Taurtis will even be safe after leaving.

Grian starts using his watcher powers when alone to influence the others to do things, just to show the other watchers that he's doing his job and they don't have to stay. They aren't convinced until him and two other watchers have a direct confrontation, in watcher forms rather than their human-esque forms, maybe spend a whole chapter showing their conversation before Xisuma locates where they are due to the heightened levels of their presence, confronting Grian now about what he was thinking and why all of this is happening.

Grian finds out that the other watchers lurking over the server managed to gain enough control to start forming an evo portal, finding it half finished and deciding to use his own control to make "clues". The clues are fake and only there to steer Taurtis away from the portal, but the other watchers change what Grian's clues say to lead him towards it no matter what. Taurtis sees the portal behind an evo symbol and gets mad at Grian, thinking he's tying to send him back to evo to be alone like he was before. (I didn't watch evo, just wanted to find a way to make it appear like Grian abandoned him from Taurtis's perspective.) Grian tries explaining himself, but Taurtis is done listening.

Taurtis starts showing more obvious signs that his sense of confusion from the down under has caused occasional confusion to places he's in, even if he's been there long term. Just a lil, lil somethin, y'know?

Grian's psychotic (literally) and Taurtis is autistic. Not mid game but just had to put that out there.

-

Long game/end game: (omg just like avenger's end game- shut up. No. Stop.)

There's a sort of banquet to celebrate the ending of season nine as they progress into season ten.

Taurtis has to face the truth that he's never wanted to leave in the first place. He had to accept that fact mid game, but here he has to say it outright to Grian who's absorbed himself into figuring out every nook and cranny and function of that portal, so much that the skulk and purple has grown more on him.

The purple area spreads more on his right arm since that's the one he stick into the rift after activating the portal again. Something that's noticed overtime as he continues experimenting on and interacting with the rift and the area it was at in general.

-----Additional Notes/How Watcher presence affects players-----

A large amount of Watcher presence will cause listeners and the watched to feel paranoid, sick or uneasy. The more watching them, the worse the effects are. This is how Grian connects the rift's sudden behavior change to the watchers, Mumbo pointing out how he's felt the past few days one night while researching and experimenting on the portal with him.

And then this all was going to lead up to an additional fic to the series where they'd have to do a life series to satisfy the Watchers's need for violence, but the watchers found a way to strike a deal with Sam to make things more interesting, and Grian and Sam end up being soulbound for it with Grian barely winning by killing Sam in the end after everyone else has died out.

Similar to Double Life, but would have more stakes and need for staying close to soulmates as well as different effects and changes to players with the loss of lives and distance between soulmates.

[distortedataraxia]

Hello i don't know if this is a request place but can u do idk kunikida or whatever that mans name is and reader in fluff (reader is hmm, shy and uh idk flirty????????????) And kunikida found reader locked in a locker bc shes dumb and somehow locked herself i give u the allowance to think of anythiny else

Author note : hi ! I'm sure this request was from november.. lol, i hope you're doing well my friend, i had fun writing this, though i'll tell you, this is definitely badly written and the characters might probably act out of character, i apologize about that, but i still hope this reached your expectations ! And yes his name is kunikida.. you got that right.

The locker of doom

Kunikida x Fem!reader

Wordcount : 1,397

It was another normal day in the armed detective agency, Dazai was making airplanes with some papers, ranpo was chilling, yosano was bored, kunikida was working, kenji was chilling.. There wasn't really much work today.

But you just arrived at the agency, you were late because of your alarm ! Out of breath, you apologized, embarassed. "I'm so sorry for being late" Kunikida looked at you, with a face that lets no one know what he was thinking, and he just said in a low voice "Just get to work y/n" there was nothing strict in his voice, it was almost sweet, but you did as he said anyways, work was awaiting for you.

'All i need to do.. ' you thought, before suddenly remembering, that you forgot your phone in your locker! So that's why the alarm didn't ring ! Because your alarm was your phone ! Jeez..

You got up from your seat, as ranpo looked at you and asked "Hey y/n, could you grab a few snacks for me on your way?" You turned around and politely nodded "yes, i'll just go get my phone and my wallet" he looked at you and declared "Ah, so that's why you were late, you're really an airhead y/n" you quietly chuckled and said "Well i mean..that's not wrong..that's why people don't trust me with their stuff" the detective stretched and bored, he said "be more like me and be less like you" of course, he was joking, that was for sure "oh ! >:O Ranpo how could you be so cruel ! " Dazai exclamed himself, jumping in to the conversation, you decided to quickly leave and get your phone as you knew that the conversation was going to last ages, you left without saying anything and without anyone noticing, too shy to say something, afterall, it hasn't been long since you joined the agency, so you're still not used to your coworkers, but kunikida was nice though. He always seemed to keep his composure and calm around you, and he'd always apologize for any inconveniance, such as dazai's behaviour, dazai has been teasing the both of you often, leading kunikida to.. beat him up. This agency really was something. It's been only a few months since you joined, and theses few months have been the most eventful of your life.

You walked in the hallway, finding your locker, thinking about random things, suddenly, you get a bad gut feeling 'Something bad is about to happen to me.. ' you thought, checking your locker content in detail, forgetting what you were even searching, only remembering it was something small, before you realized, that you just locked yourself in your own locker by accident, it was dark.

'What the...? ' you wondered, before processing the situation.

You, a worker from the armed detective angency, got yourself stuck in your own locker. And what's better than that? You're actually scared of the dark!

You started to uncontrollably bang at your locker door in panick, thinking 'i'm scared i'm scared i'm scared !' A thousands of other thoughts came to your head 'what if i get suck here for hours?What if i die here because i'm thirsty!?' you overthinked, shaking, before causing the fall of your own locker, causing you to also fall, and be even more stuck. Suddenly, your phone ringed, and your phone ring was... careless whisper instrumental!? Since when? Who played around with your phone? 'I'm so tired of love songs..' you thought, before thinking about kunikida and wishing for him to come and save you and comfort you, like a knight in a shining armor 'i need someone to numb the pain' you pout to yourself.

The loud noise caused by the fall of your locker killed your ears, and in all honesty, the fall got you hurt, you had no energy to bang at the walls of your locker. Luckily though the loud noise echoing through the halls alerted your coworkers, you hear footsteps, someone running to your locker, and you hear a voice "what the..?y/n ?" The voice seemed familiar, it was.. kunikida's ! It was kunikida ! "Kunikida it's me, help me i'm stuck" you said breathing fast "okay y/n, i'm gonna have to pull your locker back up, please tell me if it hurts" He carefully said before moving the locker back up slowly, then, he opened the door of your locker, you jumped in his arms "you saved me ! " you said, your head nuzzling into his neck, he hugs you back and say "it's okay y/n..you know you could have just used your ability to destroy the locker right? " there was no judgement in his voice, just surprise "I don't like destroying stuff, it's a waste of materials" you said before admitting in a careful voice "and i was too scared and panicked to think about it, i'm scared of the dark" your cheeks felt hot, and you felt really weird "it's okay now, i'll keep you safe, you're okay. " he reassured you before saying "noted though, i'll make sure you don't go on missions requiring a lack of fear of the dark" His words made you happy and relieved, you started relaxing as he rubbed your back, you've actually never seen kunikida so kind and sweet since you joined the agency, you felt something weird in your stomach tingle "I was worried about you there, are you hurt anywhere? " He asked, letting go of the hug and looking at you with a concerned face, you shyly smiled before replying "yeah, my head really hurts,it banged against the locker hard when the locker fell down but atleast.. I'm out of hiding !" He sighs "how did you even get yourself stuck in there?" you stayed quiet for a few seconds, thinking, before stuttering, embarassed "no idea.. " he looks at you, there's no hint of dissapointment in his eyes, just concern and surprise as he says "it's okay.. Just be careful next time" Suddenly, you felt silly and said with a hint of playfulness in your voice "good boy, good boy, you're ought to worry about me. " A few seconds after saying that, you completely regretted your words and didn't dare to look at kunikida, and you started to laugh nervously "i'm joking.. " you said, before hearing the man's voice "it's fine.. " You could hear that he was nervous about something, you didn't know what that was about though "kunikida, you seem nervous, what's wrong?" You looked at him, there was a light pink on his face ,he cleared his throat "it's nothing. Don't worry about me. "

You smiled, confidently, and offered your hand to kunikida "take my hand through the flames, and let's get back to work" you joked, once again regretting your words a few seconds after, feeling your cheeks growing more and more hot "No y/n, we need to check if your head has any injuries, we're going to yosano right now" His voice was strict and you gulped "not yosano" You begged "i'm all fine" suddenly, you saw Dazai walking through the hallway and ran to him, hiding yourself behind him and using him as a shield, kunikida sighed and said "y/n, come on, i'm worried about you, i need to make sure you're 100% safe, even if it means going to yosano" Dazai blinked and you said, holding tight into dazai's jacket "no, not yosano, i'm fine" Dazai chuckled and said "You know kunikida, if you love y/n so much, you really should have her see a normal doctor other than yosano, or, maybe you could let me be your woman !? I wouldn't mind having you send me to yosano, if i can activate my ability i can just let her kill me !" Your eyes grew wide and you could hear the obvious frustration in kunikida's strict voice "No."

"You're so cruel, forcing y/n to go to yosano, i'm sure at this point , i'd take better care of her" he joked, you could sense that Dazai held no interest in you and only meant to annoy kunikida

".. Is that so? " kunikida asked, honestly, which surprised you, you backed away from Dazai and said "i actually rather have kunikida take care of me, not you Dazai and neither do i want yosano taking care of me"

Little did you know theses words only helped Dazai tease the both of you. You were still red at the end of the day.

[bitacrytic]

Idk if you have seen Bly Manor but there were two couples there. One w/w. Another w/m. And the w/m one; well there was something going on. And we have the main couple( the w/w one) comment on how the m in that relationship thought that love was about control. The way he pronounced his love- it was like ownership and how that can't be love. And this makes me think of canon kp and fanon vp.

By fanon vp I meant the glorification of the time in safehouse in some fics ( not all. Like maybe 2 in 8 or something)

____

Sorry, that it's taken me this long, Anon. Forgive me.

This is so so true. canon kp and fanon vp are just... *sigh

In canon, Kinn always believed that Porsche was his to own. From day one. We can dress it up as enemies to lovers, but the truth is that, his attitude towards Porsche was consistent. He doted on Porsche, but never really trusted him and whenever he got the chance, he made it known that Porsche was his property. Even when he was trying to let Porsche go, he said, "go before I change my mind," because it was his decision. Not Porsche's. Kinn viewed Porsche's actions as disobedience or obedience to himself. In the hospital, in the club bathroom, on the rooftop, when talking to his father. These weren't only things that happened in the first half of the show.

In the finale, Kinn looked Porsche in the eye and told him that if Porsche wasn't on his side, then he was the enemy. This was after Porsche showed up to help him. Yeah, he stares at Porsche like Porsche is the sweetest thing. But so do people who own dogs. They pamper the dogs and keep them on leashes so they don't move about freely. That is kinn's relationship with porsche.

And Porsche accepted it in the end. I can make an argument for Porsche -

wanting to use that as a ruse to go against Kinn's father, or

realizing he has nowhere to go and cracking under the pressure of Kinn's affection and just accepting it so that he can keep his brother and mother safe.

Either way, Kinn's love for Porsche was always coated in ownership.

HOWEVER,

In canon, even though Vegas started out as wanting to own Pete, the same way Kinn wanted to own Porsche, Vegas was aware of his own malicious intent. From day one, it was never about doing anything his father wanted. After all, Kun said to kill Pete. But no. Vegas was bored and lonely and in need of a toy. He took Pete so that he could play with him. Simple as that.

In a way, this was even more evil than what Kinn did. Because Kinn started out as seeing Porsche as some kind of enemy. And even though his feelings changed, his perception of Porsche as his property never changed.

But Vegas knew from the beginning. Pete was a toy.

And when Pete nearly died, things started to change. And honestly, if Pete had never broken down and threatened to kill himself, Vegas would have kept him locked up forever, content to know that his toy would never leave.

But Pete's behavior was the first red flag, for Vegas. That was the first moment he took a step back to regroup.

And this is the point that most people ignore about Vegaspete. This is where the divergence from canon begins. Most of fanon vp, not all, sees Vegas' love as ownership. They still view him as a man who wants a toy. Even though Vegas wants someone who isn't suicidal.

In canon, Pete didn't want ownership, so Vegas changed because that was the best way to have Pete.

In most of fanon, Pete accepts Vegas' ownership as love, the same way that canon Porsche accepted Kinn's ownership.

[flurty]

Title: Take off your mask (1/1?) (i might continue it idk)

Word count: ~1,800

Description: bad case of the mondays

"Should I stop talking?"

"Don't, your voice is very soothing"

You could hardly focus on the hushed voices and muted shouting as your head reeled from that shock. You just about sent your entire team into a collective heart attack with your stunt. Which is fair. That was one hell of an attack.

Midnight's fingers ran through your hair as your head laid on her lap, lying on your back. She continued talking, although the wavering in her voice every few syllables betrayed even her worry. Or was it guilt? You hardly knew. The only thing running through your head was just how shit of a day this had been. It all started when you ran late to work that morning.

---

You could help but feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the piece of paper in your hands. It was a write-up. Second one this month. This was the result of fifteen minutes of shouting and accusations before being shoved into your face to sign. You'd let out a groan, but that would draw the ire of the pig of a man in front of you. Instead, you cursed yourself silently for oversleeping and took the proffered pen and signed your name. Your boss, Mr. Tom, merely shook his head.

"What are we gonna do with you, kid?"

Silence. Then, after taking the slip of paper from your hands, he walked out of the closet and left you to deal with your frayed nerves and the sob that threatened to come out of your mouth. You pressed your back against a wall and slid down, putting your face into your hands. Your nerves overtook your strength and you started shaking,

A minute or two passed before someone knocked and poked their head in.

"Uh, we need you in the front." A new hire. At least he looked apologetic.

"I… I'll be up in a minute."

---

You felt a tear hit your cheek. Your eyes cracked open and met Midnight's closed ones. Her long hair barely tickling your face as she leaned over and ran her fingers in your hair. Huh. You felt the need to apologize.

"Hey, don't cry. I'm sorry."

Her eyes opened and locked with yours, watery-brown meeting pained-blue.

A scoff -- or sob, you couldn't tell with her right now. "Why are you sorry? You saved my life. I'm the one who fucked up by not paying attention."

As if. Out of everyone in this group, she was the one you felt like you could depend upon the most. Hardly as much of a fuck-up as you are, anyway.

"No you didn't, darling."

She mumbled a protest, but it fell apart to tears escaping from her eyes and she took her hand from your hair to rub her eyes. Your mind went back to today.

---

You could feel your write-up burning a hole in your pocket. All of your nerves were fully aware of it and were twisting and turning in worry. You hated being shouted at by anybody, and your boss loved to find excuses to shout at you.

When the clock flipped over from 4:59 to 5:00, you quickly clocked out and left your work. You didn't wanna think about what happened today.

Getting into your car as fast as possible, you leaned back against your chair and let out a long sigh that you didn't realize you had been holding in. Just like that, your neck and shoulder muscles relaxed and you couldn't help but let out a long and shaky groan.

<< ring ring ring >>

You jumped. Your phone started ringing, its tone sending a spike of panic through your body. Looking at the caller id, you saw it was from your mom. Banging your head against the steering wheel, you shakily answered the call and pressed it against your ear.

"Hello?"

"Will, get here quick," your brother's voice came through in a hurry. You sat back up in your seat, your heart delving into your stomach.

"Charlie, what's wrong."

"Mom had a heart attack."

---

Your recollection came to a halt as you felt soft hands touch your torso, sending a stab of pain into your sides. You couldn't stop yourself from coughing and forcing out a curse.

"Fucking hell, what the heck was that?"

Midnight's hands continued to play with your hair, one hand moving to take your hand in it. You gave it a weak squeeze. Still, hands continued to touch your stomach, probably belonging to Bishop, although they were more gentle.

"Sorry, sorry, didn't mean to hurt you more," he said out of the corner of his mouth as he opened a can of some off-brand soda and knocked it back quickly. Even in your haze of pain, you could see him perk up a little. "I'm trying to see how bad you are, and it's bad, so I know how strong of a heal you need."

Makes sense. You gave him a half-hearted nod before losing yourself to your thoughts. Slowly, you felt pain you weren't aware about slowly shed away from your midriff. You couldn't help but sigh. Thank whoever for Dia spells.

---

You're pretty sure you doubled the speed limit numerous times getting home. It was 5:17, which meant it was 5:14 -- your car clock was ahead by 3 minutes, or was it four? You shook your head, that didn't matter.

You nearly knocked the door down getting in, creating a commotion as Sparkplug started barking and yipping. You could hear your dad's confusion in the living room as you nearly sprinted to him.

"Hey, I heard about mom, is she okay?" Your dad looked pissed.

"What the fuck are you talking about, William?" Actually he was pissed and confused.

"Mom, she had a heart attack, right?" Your dad looked over your shoulder, and you followed his gaze to see your mom alive and well, albeit very upset with your barging in and scaring them.

She glared at you and hissed, "Just who do you think you are, disrupting our peace and scaring the both of us."

Oh. Now you understood. Charlie was playing a joke. A sick joke.

Before you could open your mouth, your mom started yelling at you, shouting about how much of a disrespectful brat you are and how disappointing you are.

Your nerves burned with a fiery anxiety.

---

"-ey, wake up. Hello?"

You came back from your thinking -- or was it sleep? -- to Midnight gently prodding your cheek. You scrunched your eyes up and stuck your tongue out at her.

"I guess he's awake, Bishop."

"Yeah, I can tell." Bishop had an amused quality to his voice. "Even after a near-death experience, he still a brat."

Ice pierced your heart, your shoulders tensed. Midnight must've felt it too. When you opened your eyes finally, you saw her concerned gaze. You merely shot a half-hearted grin and sat up, already missing the warmth of your friend. Looking around, you could see a handful of relieved and playfully annoyed looks. Except for Midnight. She was concerned.

She always noticed.

"Thank you for healing me, Bishop." You struggled onto your feet, moving from foot to foot as you tried to regain your balance. "How bad was it?"

Silence met you, and you looked up from your feet to see Bishop's disbelieving face. "I'll repeat myself: near-death experience."

"But I'm not dead, so it couldn't have been that bad."

Midnight spoke from next to you, pulling one of your arms around her shoulder so you could lean on her. "You looked so pale."

Looking at your clothes, you couldn't see any blood. "Was I bleeding that bad?"

Again, silence.

Bishop finally broke the silence. "Your heart stopped, dude."

---

"And how the hell can you joke about me having a heart attack?"

You couldn't help yourself, you pleaded, "But Charlie called me and sai--"

"Do you think I care what Charlie said?" she grounded out. "You just about stopped my heart by coming into our house like that and scaring everyone."

Silence. You felt the tears streaming down your face, warm trails left behind. You couldn't handle it anymore, you ran out of the house and got back in your car, driving to your apartment.

---

The trip out of the palace was solemn. It seemed everyone was acutely aware of their mortalities, specifically yours. As you leaned your weight and walked with Midnight, you felt the need to fill the silence.

"Don't worry guys, it'll take more than that to-"

"Please don't." This one came from Lightbulb. She hadn't spoken much until you all crossed the threshold from the palace to reality.

"…Sorry."

"Stop it." She turned and gave an exasperated look. "Don't you know how much I care about you? How much we care?"

"…" You opened your mouth to respond, but couldn't find the words. You felt a heavy weight pulling down on your heart. Lightbulb shook her head.

"Seeing you get shocked like that, hearing your screa-" She sobbed. Bishop patted her on the back and shook his head as if to get rid of a distressing thought. He looked at you and sighed.

"We'll talk about this tomorrow, I need to get her home." He and Lightbulb turned and walked down the street to his car, getting in. As Bishop started it up and slowly pulled out, he lowered his window and waved to the group as they turned down a side street.

Eventually after the majority of the group left, it was you and Midnight. You peeled your arm off of her shoulder and turned to face her.

"Well, thanks for the help." You looked away from her, not wanting to see her disappointment. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Shut up." You looked at her and saw her rolling her eyes. "We're going to your apartment after I stop by mine to get a blanket and pillow."

"But aren't you busy tomorrow?"

"I just nearly lost my best friend, whatever I had planned doesn't matter."

---

After you got home after that verbal dressing down from your mom, you crumpled up the write-up slip and tossed it onto the table, and jumped immediately into bed, passing out as soon as your head hit the pillow.

You woke up to your phone vibrating on your chest. Blearily unlocking it, you saw it was from that group chat.

"Palace hunting tonight? Y/N?"

Shaking your head of the last dregs of sleep, you quickly responded with an affirmative and got out of bed. A nearby clock showed it was nearly 10. Just a couple hours and you'd be in the Metaverse with your friends. You could hardly wait. Palace hunting was honestly the only time you felt truly happy.

Grabbing a towel, you went into the bathroom to shower and get changed. No matter what, you were gonna make sure that tonight would be a good night. Especially after a day like today.

---

to be continued, maybe

[bisluthq]

Can I just say that it's refreshing to come here and see takes of ppl who actually live in reality cos I've been feeling like I'm going insane these days reading Swiftie's responses to that Joe article. Genuinely what the actual fuck is wrong with these psychos😭 how have they made it canon that Joe is a liar, a manipulative narcissist, and a cheater when there's literally zero evidence for any of that? How are they saying that he never talked about her in interviews when he did and there's concrete evidence, granted most of the questions were always super awkward and cringe but like he did?

A bunch of them say they watch Miss Americana weekly (weird behaviour on its own imho) yet they claim that Joe locked her up and forced her into privacy when she literally says in that documentary multiple times that SHE needed to step back from the spotlight? SHE needed the ultra privacy to heal and he met her there. And look it would make sense to me if it was just chronically online teenagers acting this way (who obvs haven't lived much yet and don't know how real relationships irl work) but you see fully grown ass thirty-somethings who are even married and have kids and lives irl claiming the most evil things about this man with absolutely no evidence and it makes me so uncomfortable, like it hurts me how fucking stupid they all are I'm sorry 😭 it's not even about Joe as a person, it's about them being either evil or highkey stupid idk they're obsessed with making him be a horrible villain and Taylor herself DOES NOT CARE like at ALL. If anything, both of them have made it profoundly clear that independently of how things ended, they both walked away of that relationship with lots of respect for each other, for their families, and for what they shared for 6+ years. The least fans could do is respect that stance too but they seem to hate Taylor idk

The craziest part to me is (idk if you guys have seen this, my for you pages are fucked lol) that a bunch of these stans who straight up believe the Daily Mail articles are coming from Joe's team are the ones who also have very good media literacy when it comes to clocking when an article or puff piece is coming directly from MILF Tree Paine, and when it's straight up bullshit. Yet they believe all the straight up bullshit coming out about Joe on the Daily Mail is his team?? So they're using what those tabloids are saying as "evidence" to claim that he's a manipulative narcissist. And they speak of him being a cheater as if there was evidence for that and speak of it as if it were proven fact so when a casual fan is all like "aw it's nice that her and Joe hold no hatred for each other" they flood the comments with "HE FORCED HER INTO HIDING FOR YEARS AND CHEATED ON HER MULTIPLE TIMES" and the casual fan is like "oh shit I didn't know" and like💀💀💀 that just spreads this whole false narrative and what stans don't realize is that it's embarrassing not only them but most of all TAYLOR, who some casual peeps think is legit the one spreading these lies about Joe when it's actually her own fucking fans🤦

Genuinely the only things Taylor has outright said (in her music or elsewhere) is that he was stressy-depressy, that she felt towards the end that he didn't understand her and she had to make herself smaller, and that she cheated on him. Everything else is stans making shit up and like don't these ppl have something better to do than create a fake fanfic character out of this guy who just exists and makes his little movies and does his charities? They don't even have to make this character up bc Matty Healy is right there and Taylor's rage is directed towards HIM not Joe😭💀 they either hate that Joe is actually a decent human being (and genuinely why do they care that much) or they're all just profoundly stupid and if that's the case I'm genuinely worried about that many ppl being so hopelessly stupid bc there's legit THOUSANDS of them wtf

this

☝🏼👌🏼

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

I realized I forgot to say how my first experience with a club went. I know not everyone will care, but I know at least two people that straight up asked me to let them know how it went, so here goes

First off, I almost didn't go because the day before I was like "I only have three dresses, and all of them are too fancy/lacy, and I want to at least TRY to be feminine". Now, nothing wrong with not being feminine. I'm literally an AFAB NB that does not like my hips, but I try to make do. But, sometimes, once in a blue moon, I wanna try to be feminine. Like, maybe once a year level frequency, so it had to be RIGHT

I go to an actual dress place first, but everything was too fancy, so I fell back on my classic: Hot Topic. Unfortunately, it was particularly busy that day and I didn't bring my headphones, and there were too many choices and options, and I quickly became overwhelmed and had stunted text messages with my friend for the hour and a half I was inside because the connection sucked so much. But, she promised that we could go shopping the next day together and I felt instantly better and got the fuck out of dodge after buying one shirt I really liked

We went shopping the next day and I got two pairs of pants and a skirt that was just slightly too small at the waist but we could make it work with some safety pins. I still took my binder and one of the pants in case I felt uncomfortable being in a skirt/being feminine. Anyways, this is the outfit I settled on sans the fishnets

I was super nervous on the way because my friend has a much larger friend group than I do, so I didn't know anyone else really well and I knew it was obviously going to be really crowded and loud so I tried to pregame a bit beforehand. Man, when I tell you the amount of relief that washed over me when I found out it was a gay bar, woof

Anyways, it was me, my friend, and five of her friends (Four gay and one straight who was there for vibes like me), and it was decent. I feel like I need something to do, and even though I knew clubs was just drinks and music for the most part, I was still kind of... bored? Idk, lmao. Still kind of fun, just feel like I need things to do with my hands at least

The newest guy in the group, and also the tallest, kept fucking buying shots for everyone, and there was a point where we raced to the counter to buy shots for each other, AND I WON, but my card declined because apparently I go out so little that my bank was like "This bitch is at the club? I don't fucking buy it. Lock it down boys!"

I ended up having half a bottle of soju and a glass of plum wine for pregame, four/five pickle shots (they were SO good, I had to resist the urge to keep going back), a lemon drop, some blue raspberry shot, pink lemonade shot, and a watermelon shot, and I STILL wasn't drunk >:(

Something about the loud music and atmosphere made it so it didn't affect me until I got home (I introduced the tall guy to my cats and showed guy my bookshelf of dragon books while my friend and I talked)

I tried dancing by mimicking one of the guys who was FEELING himself (like, draped across the other three when we went outside for fresh air), and he kept dropping into low squats REALLY EFFECIENTLY so I was trying to follow along and my legs were sore for three days afterwards

OH! and there was a person in a dinosaur button up shirt that I rushed up to and asked them where they got it from, and they said they stole it from their sister, but told me where to find their sister because she was there, and turns out its from Shein :/

I WILL get a dinosaur button up though, just not that one

[cookiesandbiscuits]

Obey Me! Demon Bros React to a GN!MC Who is A Popular Comic/Manga Artist

A/N: Ayo! This is my first time making a headcanon so you could tell that I'm quite nervous about this. Idk if someone had already made this hc but it's stuck in my head that I can't focus on other stuff. Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy reading this!

Summary: How would the demon bros react if they discovered that MC is a popular comic/manga artist in the human world.

Genre: Fluff

Warning: I got too eager to make this and it got a bit lengthy (esp. Levi's part) (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

MASTERLIST

Lucifer

He already knows that you were a popular comic/manga artist the moment he read your file.

But he had no idea that you were THAT popular.

One time he went to a comic con with you to show his support, and a lot of people lined up in front of your table in a snap just to get their copy signed. He couldn't even tell where the long queue ends.

He doesn't read comics/mangas so he doesn't know how your works became so popular in the human world.

So he decided to read some of your works to understand the hype.

He was surprised. He now knows why your comics/mangas were successful. The story of your works was well-written and the art style is really good. And he enjoyed reading it, though he wouldn't tell you that.

He felt proud of your accomplishments and the fact that your talents are recognized by the world.

He is now one of your fans. His pride wouldn't let him admit it tho.

Mammon

I have a feeling that he would know after seeing your name in an article online about popular comic/manga artists.

He'll barge into your room and start saying things like "Why didn't ya tell me you're a popular comic/manga artist up in the human world? You're supposed to tell me things like that, remember? Since I'm your first man and all."

He'd then ask you things like "How much do ya earn per work?" or "Are ya planning to team up with someone? If ya like I could team up with you."

"Sorry, Mammon. But I don't have plans in collaborating with other artists yet."

He'll give you a dejected puppy look.

He's sad that you don't plan to collaborate with him, but he'll still support you. He IS your first man after all.

He would read all of your works starting from the first one until your most recent work.

Congrats, you've got another fan of your works.

Even though you don't accept collaboration requests yet, he would give you ideas for your ongoing work. This helps you a lot in making your newest work's story/plot.

Acknowledge him in your newly released work and he'd be over the moon.

Leviathan

He would know your not-so-secret secret in one of the comic cons he was attending.

He's going on for days talking about this manga that he started reading and how it's so well-done and how he's been looking forward to meeting the artist behind it in the comic con he'll be attending next Saturday.

He even suggested that you should start reading the series with him. Little did he know that you were the artist behind the manga he was talking about.

Imagine the surprised look on his face when he saw you in the comic con, sitting with a table in front of you and a pen in your dominant hand while smiling at him.

Realization hit him. You were the artist who made the manga he so much enjoys. Wait, if you were the artist behind the manga he was reading, then--

Levi.exe has stopped working.

He doesn't know how to react to the truth bomb you just dropped in front of him. He felt like his soul had just re-ascended to the Celestial Realm.

Marry him now.

"Umm, Levi" you waved your hand in front of his face. "Do you want me to sign your copy?"

Your question snapped him back to reality.

"Y-yes, please!" His hands shook from nervousness and shock, and a shade of red had spread across his face and ears.

"I'm glad you liked my series. I appreciate it."

The poor snek boi's heart just stopped.

When you two got home from the convention, he straight up went inside his room and locked himself up.

Remember how he acted around Simeon when he discovered that he's the author of TSL? Yeah, he's giving you the same treatment now.

It took him a while before he started acting normal around you again.

Sometimes though, you could see him being star-stricken with you.

Satan

"Oh, cool."

That was his reaction until you told him the title of your most recent work and its synopsis. Which included two of his favorite things in the three realms-- cats and mystery stories.

If he doesn't have a plan to read it before, he has now.

He is in awe of how well-written the story is and how your art style contrasts the theme of the story.

He would definitely tell you his opinion about it after he finishes the whole series in record time.

If you'd like, he could help you write a sequel to it. Heck, he already has an idea of what the story should be about.

Asmodeus

He would know your profession when he accidentally saw your drafts scattered on your study table.

"Oh, hon... why didn't you tell me that you're a comic/manga artist? Your art style is really good."

He'll give you a lot of compliments after this.

Not surprised when he discovers that your works are very popular in the human world. (He discovers this with the help of Levi). Who in their right minds would dislike a work as good as yours?

Expect that your works would be trending in Devilgram a few days later. Courtesy of yours truly.

He feels that your works should also be recognized in the Devildom, just like his beauty.

He's careful not to post major spoilers after Levi nagged at him nonstop when he accidentally posted one online.

Would ask you to make a comic about himself.

Beelzebub

"Oh, cool." (2)

He's not particularly interested in reading comics/mangas but he will support you nevertheless.

He volunteered to be your bodyguard when you told him you'll attend a fan meeting arranged by the publishing house next week.

He's worried for your safety. He knows how chaotic it can be when meeting your fans. He already has experience with rogue fans.

When you're in a rush of meeting a deadline and you can't afford to join them for dinner, he will be the one who would bring your dinner to your room. You can't work with an empty stomach, after all.

He's totally a keeper.

Belphegor

"Oh, cool." (3)

He may seem to not pay attention whenever you talk about your job but believe me, all of his attention is on you.

He doesn't have the motivation to read all of your works but he'll still be one of your biggest fans.

He has a favorite among all of your works. You'll sometimes see him reading it over and over again if he's not sleeping.

When he's in the mood, he'll even help you proofread the chapter you're currently working on. He doesn't care if it spoils him in the process.

If the chapter you're currently working on includes things about astronomy, he'll gladly help you with it.

[hanazuma-inactive]

ifhy. (nsfw) dabi x bottom!male reader

pronouns: he/him

warnings: hate sex, a lot of cursing, a little bit of degrading, fucking on a counter (?) idk if that counts, and implied violence a little

a/n: sorry this took a while to write i was passed out for the past two days 😀👍

_____

ever since you entered the league of villains you've hated everything about the man. the cockiness, the way he talked, even the way he smiled, though he barely did. you wanted to prove you were better than him. due to the fact that he had a flashier quirk than you, he received more attention from tomura than you did.

everything about dabi pissed you off.

you weren't very subtle about it either, you made sure that dabi knew you didn't like him. In fact everyone in the league knew you hated his guts and they didn't want to get in the way of you two either, just so they don't get hit by the crossfire.

you challenged him one time during another one of shigaraki's meetings because he was taunting your abilities in the mission tomura assigned you to. the fight was pretty bad and thankfully kurogiri was there to stop you guys or else the hideout would've been burned to crisps in the matter of seconds.

believe it or not, there was actually one thing you hated more than dabi. it was how much you wanted to fuck the man. everytime you were with dabi, you were practically undressing him with your eyes. his tall and lean body, those ocean eyes you could melt in and the fact that you could see his pecs slightly due to his clothing.

you didn't want to admit it but you couldn't deny your own desires. not saying you would volunteeringly ask him to fuck you but if the oppurtunity came up you wouldn't say no either. there were times you touched yourself thinking about the black haired male deep inside you stuffing you full of his cum. he turned you on so much and you couldn't deny it.

it was another day were shigaraki excluded you from a mission. you didn't mind too much this time since you didn't want to go anyways. shigaraki and your ideals weren't similar but he recognized your strength and you recognized his authority.

you were resting at the bar table in the hideout and fixing yourself a drink. you knew kurogiri had to have some good booze hidden here somewhere. while ruffling under the counters you heard slow footsteps coming down the stairs. the person you wanted to see the least appeared in front of you.

"what are you doing back here, aren't you supposed to be with them?" you said in a cold tone.

"they don't need me anymore, they've got it handled. shigaraki's plan also failed once."

"wouldn't be surprised."

"fuck is that suppose to mean."

"i said what i said , burnt face."

you felt the atmosphere in the room tense up and so did dabi. you both stayed silent for a few seconds until he spoke again.

"real rich coming from someone who's been eye-fucking me ever since we entered the league together."

you were startled by his response. did you make it that obvious? you stopped looking for the alcohol and stood up.

"so what if i did, huh? i still fucking hate you, i don't know who in the right mine would want your cocky ass here but i guess some people just don't see how much of a piece shit you can be."

you could feel it in your bones a fight was about to go down. dabi wasn't the type to stay silent after you insult him. well, if he does try something you were ready to face him. backing off from something like this wasn't your style.

dabi walked closer to you and put his hand on the counter.

"i always thought you had a pretty face, what a shame it came with a shit personality." dabi said while cupping your cheek with his hand.

his touch felt so right against your skin. the male's hands weren't cold but it wasn't exactly warm either. you didn't know why it felt good but you didn't care either.

"don't fucking touch me, bastard." you said while slapping away dabi's hand.

you wanted dabi to touch you but you didn't want to admit it infront of him. in fact, he was getting too close to you for comfort and the tense atmosphere with just the two of you, him pushing you against the wall. even a nomu would know what he's trying to do.

“oh please, we all know you want it you fucking slut... you want me to fuck your brains out right on this counter, don’t lie to yourself.”

“don’t be so full of yourself, who do you think you are? just because i like your body doesn’t mean i like you.”

dabi turned around and started to walk away realizing you were being serious about this.

“then again, i'm not saying no. so if you want to prove me wrong, come and show me.” you said

dabi understood what you meant, he turned around and grabbed you by the waist pulling you in for a sloppy kiss.

you've never felt your heart beat so fast in your life before. you hands on his shoulders pulling him closer towards you. both of you struggled to take control of the kiss but dabi ended up winning this time.

after a few minutes the kiss broke and you wiped your mouth with your left arm.

"is that all you got bitch boy? c'mon there's no way you're this weak right?" you taunted

"you haven't seen nothing yet, you fucking squirt."

dabi said as he unbuckled his belt. you could see the thick outline of his cock under his boxers. it was so much bigger than you could’ve ever imagined all those times by yourself. dabi soon took off his boxers to show you the real deal. his cock was still half erect but it already looked too big to fit into your hole.

“you like it?” dabi asked with a smirk on his face

“tch, i’ve seen better.”

“oh? is that so.”

right after he said that, dabi grabbed your head and shoved it onto his dick, making you take his cock by all its length right away. you attempted to push yourself away but dabi’s hands were on your head the whole time. Soon enough you submitted to dabi and adjusted to his rhythm. after a while dabi finally let go of your head and pulled out his cock, this time fully erect. you couldn’t tell the exact size but it was practically double the size of what it was initially. during this entire time, you had an erection in your pants too. you were begging for a release preferably through dabi’s cock.

“c’mon sweet heart, we all know what you want. now show me that fucking ass and get on the counter.”

you stayed silent for a bit thinking whether or not to pass up this opportunity or take it. the decision was still in your hands because although dabi might be a villain he would never do something like this if he didn’t get their consent first. after considering, you realized this could be a once in a lifetime opportunity and agreed. you slid the bottom half of your clothing off and sat on the counter. you didn’t expect dabi for the type to ever get flustered but he did. when his eyes locked onto your ass and thighs his eyes widened just like when you saw his cock.

“bet you never had something like this huh~” you teased.

and just like your response earlier, dabi scoffed and said

“i’ve seen better.”

you were both impatient for what’s about to happen next. one person to be stuffed and the other to do the stuffing. dabi’s precum was the most lubricant he was ever going to use on you so without prepping he pushed his cock inside you. right away you felt a bit of pain under there but it quickly turned into pleasure after dabi moved around the area a bit more.

“f-fuck bitch… you’re tight huh…”

“nngh... tch, i told you AH-.”

“this is the good spot isn’t it~” dabi said as he pushed his dick further into you.

you moaned in pleasure as a response with grunts in between. you were feeling euphoric, this was the situation you’ve imagined so many times and now it’s finally coming true. you looked down at your own dick to see the tip of it leaking pre-cum. you couldn’t deny how good you felt at this point even if you wanted to.

“fucking hell… you fuck pretty good for some a-ah! who talks like a bitch.” you managed to make out.

“don’t talk with you ass full, slut.” dabi said as he yet again thrusted into you this time with even more force.

“and you wanted to deny it, look how good im making you feel. you’re gonna cum just from me fucking you in the ass.”

“you’re one to talk, i can feel all of your pre inside. i know you’re feeling just as good as i am don’t lie to me.”

you two gave each other a smirk as if this was some kind of competition of who can make the other person feel better. well it is, but in an aggressive way.

as both of you were getting close the moans and grunts started to become more frequent.

"hgh! im fucking cumming." dabi grunted out

"a-ah fuck! me too." you replied

the two of you came at the same time. pants filled the room with dabi still inside you.

"heh… not bad y/n."

"that's the first time you said my name, dabi."

"the same goes for you."

"i still fucking hate you by the way."

"the same goes for you."

[cixthotshit]

A Cup of Rose Americano

Pairing: Bae Jinyoung x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Poor Girl/Rich Boy, Coffee Shop/Gangster AU (IDEK how I got here, just go with it)

Summary: There's more than meets the eye with every person, including Bae Jinyoung, the world's finest barista at Personal Barista Cafe

Word count: 4.7k

Rating/Warnings: Mature / Explicit Sexual Content: Porn With Some Plot, Kissing, Mirror Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Author’s Note: I wanted to write a fluffy Coffee Shop AU but NGL something else has been preoccupying my mind and the world building to this fic kind of went off the rails and transformed into a completely different story. Enjoy this smut, readers! I really want to explore this world a lot more but IDK if I can commit to anything beyond this RN. So please, please enjoy this! Sorry in advance for mistakes! I don't always catch everything when I proofread.

I always appreciate some feedback on my writings!

"Really, it'll be a...new coffee experience," Hyeon assured Sandy. She handed Sandy a green card. It felt like an expensive platinum credit card, the card made of metal, feeling heavy and cold in her hand. "All you have to do is fill out a survey after you get your free coffee. Once you make it inside, hand the card over to your barista."

"Aren't you supposed to find actual volunteers?" Sandy asked, looking at the shiny card. The only thing on the card was the name of the new test cafe, PB Cafe.

“Trust me,” Hyeon said with a grin. “You’ve never had coffee like this. This is free, too. You’re going to say no to free coffee? And I swear, this is really me saying it, their coffee is really good.”

“Fine, thanks for the free coffee.”

“Enjoy!” Hyeon turned her back to Sandy, most likely scanning for potential test subjects for her new marketing event. Being her best friend, Sandy was always her first test subject. She didn’t know if Hyeon’s bosses approved of her taking advantage of all the free stuff she was receiving.

Sandy walked over to a shop that was setup at the southwest corner of a 3 story building. The walls were white and the windows were covered by white curtains. “PB Cafe” was written in black on the front door, though there were no door handles. Standing in front of the door, Sandy noticed a black square pad beside the right side of the door. She pressed the green card to the black pad and jumped slightly as the glass door slid open. A short piano tune played, sounding old but familiar, reminding her of old Hollywood movies from the mid-20th Century.

Tentatively, she stepped in. Walking past the white curtains, she found herself inside a small room. At the back end of the room was a small bar with one wooden chair in front of it. It only took her 4 steps to reach the chair, so she pulled it out and sat down. The wall behind the bar slid down to the floor and a broad shouldered man walked out from what looked like a bright white light before the wall slid back up behind him.

Too shocked to react, Sandy set the green card down onto the smooth marble countertop. Her eyes couldn’t leave the face of her barista. He was very handsome and his small grin softened his masculine exterior. Wordlessly, he took the green card and placed it in the front left pocket of his black apron.

“Welcome to Personal Barista Cafe,” he said in a soft, sultry voice. “My name is Bae Jinyoung, your Personal Barista today. How shall I address you?”

“Uh, just call me Sandy, I don’t like formalities much.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. If you don’t like formalities feel free to call me BaeJin or BaeBae.” She gave a soft chuckle and threw her hand over her mouth, feeling her cheeks warm up. Such a sultry man telling her to call him something as cute as BaeBae tickled her. “Is this your first drink with PB Cafe?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t know anything about this cafe, except that you have good coffee.”

“A Personal Barista will make you a personalized drink,” he explained, pulling out a menu form. “Whatever you order, I will make it in front of you. If you want to know how I prepare your drink, please let me know and I will explain as I go. If you want small talk instead, I enjoy a small conversation as I prepare you a drink. If you want silence, for any reason, please don’t feel pressured to speak if you don’t want to.”

“Can I get an Americano?” she asked, after glancing at the long list of coffee drinks. The menu was simple and elegant, the writings were in cursive but the paper was black and the ink white. She liked the seemingly simple attention to detail. “How long have you been a barista, BaeJin?”

“Almost a year,” he replied. He poured fresh ground coffee into a metal contraption with a long neck. She pressed her lips together as her eyes were fixed on his skilled, large hands. He was using a device to compact the coffee grounds.

“Do you enjoy being a barista?”

“I do. It allows me to be creative. My regular job is stressful.”

He put the coffee grounds into the machine and pressed a few buttons. She watched him place a small white espresso mug under the spout of the machine. He grabbed a large white mug of coffee, and looked at her with a soft grin.

“This is your side hustle?” she asked. PB Cafe seemed like it paid well.

“Most people have more than one job these days,” he replied.

“That’s true,” she replied. “I have a day job and a night job.”

“What are your jobs?”

“I’m interning at a law firm, helping a paralegal out. I’m hoping to get my private investigator’s license soon.”

“You want to be a private investigator?” he asked.

“I want to be a lawyer,” she answered, “but having a private investigator’s license helps me pick up skills. Research is the true gift of being a good lawyer.”

“Research. You must be very smart and hard working.”

“You are sweet,” she said, resting an elbow onto the counter, leaning forward. “I wish my smarts and hard work were enough to give me success. I’m lacking in luck lately.” His eyes drifted away from the espresso machine and looked into her eyes. She felt her cheeks turn hot, realizing she had overshared. It’d been a sad thought, too. “I feel very lucky right now.”

“Sandy, I don’t mean to make assumptions about people but if I were to guess you are someone with expensive tastes,” he said. He pulled out two small brown glass bottles from a drawer. “But, you settle for less.”

“I..” she breathed out.

She should have been insulted, but her barista BaeJin was right. Sandy had always been envious of people who could afford designer things or had the means to go on extravagant vacations, but all of that had always been a dream. The closest she got was free shit from Hyeon. A drink from PB Cafe was likely three times that of a drink from Starbucks, and Sandy could only afford Starbucks for special occasions.

“Why are you saying this?”

“I want to make you a drink in which you will appreciate,” he replied, pulling out a single stemmed pink rose from under the counter, and handed it to her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat as she accepted it. “Refined, seemingly ostentatious, but simple and hopefully, delicious.”

He poured hot water from a glass kettle into the mug. She felt her cheeks turn hot again as he reached over and plucked a single petal from the rose she held. He tilted a single drop of liquid from one of the brown bottles onto the petal.

“Rose water,” he said to her as he locked eyes with her for a second. He placed the rose petal into the mug, letting it float in the hot water. He poured the espresso into the mug of water, and took a spoon to scoop out the wilted petal, tossing it away before handing the drink to her.

She gave it a sip, and shut her eyes, a smile on her lips. Using a flower as aromatic as a rose was difficult to pull off in cuisine. Oftentimes the rose aroma was too overpowering, reminding one’s nose of perfume instead of food. Baejin’s Rose Americano, though, was the perfect balance of a good cup of coffee elevated with some elegance, refined by the subtlest hint of a rose’s sweet scent. The warm breath she exhaled after a hot sip of Americano filled her senses with flowery comfort.

“This is the most...beautiful cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted,” she replied, setting the mug down when she was half finished. “It tastes...beautiful.”

He gave a small chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile any wider than she already was. He was incredibly cute, grinning in reaction to her compliment. How could a man exude the amount of sensuality like BaeJin yet be so cute that she wanted to squish him like a marshmallow?

“You like it?” he asked.

“I do,” she replied. “I didn’t know a cup of Americano could be improved. Thank you for this cup of coffee. You’re a gifted barista.”

“Thank you. I would love to make you another drink.”

“I’ll try to come back one day,” she said earnestly.

She sipped her drink and glanced at her phone. Thanking her talented, handsome (and cute) barista BaeJin one last time, Sandy finished her drink and sprinted out of the odd, surreal cafe. She had to get ready for work. Smelling the pink rose in her hand, Sandy smiled to herself. Who knew her barista would be the first man to give her a rose?

--

“Diamond! Malibu was accidentally double booked,” Danielle called out into the dressing room. “Can you give a lap dance in the Blue Champagne Room before going home?”

“Wait,” Sandy said, holding the gold hoop earring she’d just taken off her left earlobe, “I’m not going to chase Malibu for the flat fee. The last time I covered for her, not only did her John not tip me but I had to chase her for 4 days before she gave me the cash.”

“I have a hard time chasing her down, too,” Danielle said with a heavy sigh, handing her purple vape pen to Sandy to hold. She dug into her pink and purple Bedazzled fanny pack, and fished out a few bills. She handed a bag of clothing to Sandy. “Let me know if this John is handsy or out of line. He’s a new customer. You have five minutes, babe. Fix your makeup.”

Handing the vape pen back to her boss, Sandy put the cash into her purse before shutting and locking the drawer to her vanity. She put her earring back on and retouched her eye makeup and lipstick. Her locks of hair looked good as she combed her fingers through her hair, looking into the mirror before getting up to change.

Sandy hadn’t exactly planned on becoming a stripper, but during her freshman year in college, she took a class on feminist studies, specifically on sex work. What started out as a learning experience in respecting sex work, and educating herself on the legal struggles of sex workers’ rights, Sandy soon found herself stripping as a means of extra income. She herself was in need of money, and recognized her beauty was valued enough that she could make capital from it.

Having walked out on her dysfunctional family as soon as she turned 18, Sandy had been hustling on her own for years. She was still working towards a career in law, but in the meantime, she was balancing between her day job as an unpaid intern at a shitty law firm and her night job as a stripper at a club called Blue Paradise. Giving lap dances were only nice when she received good tips, but they didn’t happen often enough. All she wanted was a good tip.

Pulling out the outfit Danielle handed to her, she took off her clothes and put on her new outfit. She wore a neon pink G-string bikini bottom with her matching lace bra under a black pencil skirt and a white costume button up office dress shirt. She put on a loose blue tie around her neck, and put on a pair of thick black framed glasses, matching it with her black leather knee high boots. Apparently, this new customer had a librarian kink.

Walking down the hall, toward the other side of the back of the club, she entered the room with the blue door at the end of the hall. The Champagne Rooms, where customers received their private lap dances, were color coded. The Blue Room was where the clients with specific kinks went.

Opening the door, Sandy pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and looked up to see her John seated on the black couch. The dim lighting of the room cast a shadow over his body, making it hard for her to make out his face. She blinked, and closed her mouth, realizing that her customer was her barista from PB Cafe, BaeJin. It had been days since she had her cup of Rose Americano.

He was wearing a loosely worn grey sweater with black denim jeans. She didn’t think it was possible but he looked more handsome than she last remembered. Perhaps, with her body so close to his, knowing that he was there for devious reasons, her face flushed and her nipples hardened as heat rushed through her body from head to toe.

“BaeJin!” she said, forgetting her sexy librarian character.

“Don’t move,” he said, looking alarmed. She stood completely still, one hand on the door handle. “You’re a stripper, Sandy?”

“You...you remember me?” He nodded. “Stripping is helping me pay for my law degree.” She licked her lips and tilted her head, pushing her chest forward slightly. “I can give you what you want.”

“I can’t do this,” he replied, crossing his left leg over his right. His eyes left her, and diverted to the ground. Her ego was bruised. Not only did she need the money, but her vanity made her feel upset that he didn’t want a lap dance from her. “I should go.”

“I have to try to keep you here,” she said shyly, pressing her back against the door. “If I don’t, that means I’m not good at my job.”

“How long should we be in here for you to be considered good at your job?” he asked, his eyes returning to meet her gaze.

“You don’t want a lap dance? Am I not cute? My tits too small?”

He gave a chuckle, and looked away when his eyes moved to her chest as she talked.

“You’re very cute,” he replied, “but that’s the problem. As a barista, I don’t date customers. Since you didn’t actually pay for your drink, I thought it’d be OK to ask you out if I ever saw you again. But if I pay for this lap dance, I wouldn’t want to ask you out. It’s not fair for me to proposition you while you’re working.”

“You’ve been thinking hard about me?” Her cheeks felt hot and goosebumps formed on her arms. “Would you accept my invitation if I asked you out after this? I’m actually supposed to be off work by now, but this is my last job tonight. If I don’t give you a lap dance, we didn’t cross any lines, right?”

He nodded, and she gave a nervous chuckle.

“You said that being a barista was your side hustle,” she said, noticing the expensive watch and ring on his left hand. Sex workers had to know street codes to keep themselves safe, and watches and rings were how gang members communicated their loyalties and rankings. “What’s your main job? You said it’s stressful.”

His right hand wrapped around his platinum watch, the case of the watch encrusted with diamonds. The C9 Gang was a wealthy gang with origins in Tokyo, Japan, platinum was their calling card. BaeJin’s gold band emerald ring sat on his middle finger, indicating he was a made man of high rank. Sandy was impressed; BaeJin had acclimated to a high status in a gang at a young age.

“How long have you been working here, Sandy?” he asked in response.

“Diamond,” she answered, her grip remaining firm on the door. “My stage name is Diamond.”

“Sandy...Diamond,” he said with a grin. He stood, and she took a deep inhale of breath as he took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, his left arm wrapping around her waist as his hand gripped onto her wrist. Her hold on the door handle loosened. “You are the diamond in the rough in Blue Paradise. You still want to invite me out on a date?”

She took a gulp of breath, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes. He licked his lips and her eyes drifted to his mouth. Giving the most gentle nod of her head, she said, “Yes.”

“I drive a blue Ferrari F60 America,” he said as the tip of his nose touched hers.

“I don’t know anything about cars,” she replied, shutting her eyes. His breath was warm, making it hard for her to breathe. He chuckled and she felt his head rest onto her shoulder.

She opened her eyes when she felt a hand touch her chin.

“I drive a blue car,” he said, his eyes drifting down her face to her lips. His thumb ran across her bottom lip gently, sending heat deep into her groin. Her stomach ached at the touch. “It’ll be the most expensive looking car you’ll see when you walk outside.” He looked directly into her eyes again. “I’m a dangerous man, Sandy...Diamond. I have to ask you one more time, do you want to keep talking to me?”

She chewed on the inside of her left cheek nervously, and furrowed her eyebrows. Given how close she was to getting the paid job as a paralegal at Johnston’s &Partners, Sandy was one step closer to her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Would it be ethical to date a gangster?

“Will you take me home or will we be going to your place?” she answered. Life was too short not to take risks.

--

Upon his request, she left work wearing her costume. BaeJin’s description of having the most expensive looking car was accurate. The navy blue car shone brighter than any other car, and the curves of the body created an elegant design to the car. He’d opened the passenger door for her. She realized her skirt barely covered her ass as the cold leather from the seat hit the back of her thighs.

He drove them up a curvy hill to get to his expensive mansion, placed behind a small forest. It sat atop of a mountainous hill, overlooking the bright lights of the city far below. BaeJin was a man of very high rank by the looks of his home. It was large and designed with multiple floor to ceiling windows. Sandy took a soft gulp of air as her mouth felt dry.

“Your home is beautiful,” she said when he led her into his home, the hallway lined with expensively framed paintings. The jade vase that held 3 white lilies beside the coat hanger looked like it was worth more than everything she owned, including the small amount of cash she had in her bank account.

BaeJin’s home aesthetic was minimalist, though each room had a piece of furniture that popped out, like the jade vase in the front entrance. In his bedroom, he had a rose gold encrusted full length mirror sitting at the foot of his bed. It was shameless, but did not surprise her. Their eyes locked as BaeJin sat down at the foot of the bed. Their fingers intertwined when she reached her left hand out to his outstretched right hand.

“I spent a week trying not to think about you,” he said, pulling her easily onto his lap. His free hand wrapped around her waist. “The closest thing to you was trying to get a stripper to dress up like a sexy librarian.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” she said, squeezing his hand. “You went to Blue Paradise wanting a fantasy. Instead, you left with your fantasy.”

His hand released hers and she felt his hand between her legs, sliding up against her slit. Shutting her eyes she gave a soft moan, surprised at his swift movement.

“You deserve the best in life,” he said into her ear before grazing his teeth gently against her neck. “Don’t ever settle for less.”

He kissed her, his lips warm and firm. His tongue parted her lips and she gave a soft hum. She pushed his tongue out of her mouth, appreciating the taste of floral green tea from him. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer to her. He tasted better than the beautiful cup of Rose Americano.

With a clouded head, she helped him pull his sweater off as he aggressively pulled her top off of her, the cheap buttons popping loudly as they flew into the air. Her skirt failed to exist when he ripped the zipper and tore the fabric apart with his bare hands.

“Are you going to rip me apart?” she asked breathlessly when his fingers found their way under her bra, fondling her erect nipple. She gave a soft moan and he grinned as he pinched her sensitive bud.

“I’ll be as hard or soft as you want,” he assured her. The pad of his thumb grazed against her nipple. Her back shivered as a sharp heat rode up her back.

“I like a bit of both,” she said, her cheeks hot. It felt like a dream to have BaeJin telling her he would do as she wanted. “You ruined my skirt.”

“The cheap costume skirt?” he asked, his hand returning to rubbing her slit. “You don’t have to settle, remember?” She shut her eyes, her hand grabbing his arm as two of his fingers pressed against her clit. “I like you best without clothes anyway.” The heat intensified as his fingers moved down lower, moistening her panties with the slick heat coming out of her pussy. Her back shook again as his fingers moved up against her slit, and then back down. “Your voice is lovely.”

She moaned as she rested her head against his chest, his fingers continually creating more heat between her legs. One finger slipped under her panties, pulling the fabric away from her wet cunt. The back of his knuckle pressed against the engorged bud of her clit, and she mewled as he rubbed up and down against her.

“BaeBae,” she could only speak with a shaky breath, “BaeBae, I’m going to come.”

Her hips thrust haphazardly against his knuckle as a small flash of heat washed over her, goosebumps forming up the back of her neck. Her orgasm disappeared as soon as it came and she breathed through her mouth. Her pussy felt wet as her slick heat dripped out of her.

“I was just playing with you,” he said with an amused smile, his eyes locked onto the mess between her legs, including his wet fingers. He spread her juices onto her folds, and moved the pads of his index and middle fingers to draw small circles onto her clit. She mewled, shutting her eyes, as her hips rutted against the motions of his fingers. “But with you this wet, I can fuck you right now.”

“BaeBae,” she breathed out, opening her eyes.

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at him. Wordlessly, she stood as their hands began removing each other’s clothes off. His expensive jewelry remained on as he pulled her back to his front, making her stand between his legs. His hand went between her legs and he massaged the inside of her thigh. She hummed a soft moan, enjoying the way his hand relaxed her muscles.

Both of his hands wrapped around her waist, and his lips kissed her neck. He requested she trust him, and one hand reached down to her right knee and had her stretch her leg out to rest over his. As his other hand went to her left knee, she understood what he was doing. He wanted a full view of her pussy so she sat on his lap with her legs hooked over his.

“Ready to put this to use?” he asked, his hands kneading her hips. His reflection from the mirror was staring at her. She saw the cheeks of her flushed face turn a bright red, and she tilted her head down to look away from the mirror. The blood coursing through her chest up to her head clouded her vision. “Look at us.”

His right hand cupped her face, and she felt his wrist press up against the front of her neck. The pulse from his wrist beat rapidly against the pulse on her neck, and she struggled to breathe as her eyes locked onto his from the reflection in the mirror. Hot blood rushed to her groin and her hips jerked forward, out of her control. His left arm wrapped around her waist had her firmly in his hold, so all she could do was wiggle in his lap. Feeling the muscles of his thighs flex under her made her buttocks tighten, her body anticipating his cock.

“If you let me take you raw,” he said softly against her ear, his eyes locked with hers through the reflection of the mirror, “that’ll make you mine.”

His hold on her face was gone as his hand grabbed his cock. He rubbed his hard cock against her slit. She bit her bottom lip as his heat caused more juices to pool out of her cunt. It made her nerves shake, itching her skin in unbearable heat. He blinked, and his eyebrows furrowed as she opened her mouth to breathe loudly.

“I’m yours,” she said clearly. He groaned as he pushed the tip of his cock into her entrance. “Give me everything, BaeJin.” Pleasure blinded her vision as she saw nothing but white and gold flecks of stars. She gave a loud gulp when she felt his hand grip onto her chin again, his wrist pressing against her throat. Her grip on his arms tightened as she held onto him for leverage. His cock pushed in deeper, and the walls of her pussy trembled as heat filled her body in overwhelming waves. “I’m yours.”

His lips were on her neck and when her vision cleared all her eyes could focus was on the way his cock was fucking her pussy. He started with shallow pushes, the rhythm steady as she bounced on his lap. She came and she gave a gentle mewl, blurting out his name as her walls squeezed his cock. A gentle chuckle escaped her lips as she saw him shut his eyes tight.

“You’re so easy to please,” he said as he pushed in deep. She gave a loud groan as he pulled out roughly before pushing in fast, going in balls deep. He started a steady, deep rhythm and she cried as she was filled with undiluted pleasure.

“You fuck so good,” she moaned, her hand reaching back to grab his hair. He sucked on her neck, leaving a red mark before he kissed her shoulder. “BaeJin, fuck me. I’m gonna - I’m - I’m gonna come.”

His grip around her waist tightened as he pushed faster into her, and they bent forward together as he came into her in deep pushes. Her fingers dug into his skin as she shut her eyes, taking in the sensation of his hot seed filling up her insides.

“Come,” he panted out heavily as she felt him withdraw from her. She whimpered as she felt his middle finger push into her come-filled cunt. His thumb rubbed up against her clit, making her nerves dance in hot waves. She cried out a soft orgasm as she came again. She breathed heavily as she rested against his body.

“We barely know each other,” she said after a while. She didn’t know how long they sat together, staring at their reflection before she finally spoke.

“We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other,” he said, running a hand up and down her thigh, sending heat up and down her back. “You are mine now.”

He pulled her off his lap, and they laid in bed together. A shiver went down her back as he kissed her shoulder. They were facing each other, her left leg locked between his muscular thighs.

Giving a laugh, she watched him grab her wrist. He kissed the inside of her wrist before kissing the inside of her elbow. She shut her eyes as she felt his lips on her shoulder. Every kiss sent a vibrating heat under her skin. His mouth sucked on her neck and she grabbed onto the back of his hair as his teeth grazed against her skin. The muscles in her stomach tightened. The world ceased to exist as BaeJin’s embrace consumed her.

[milqueandsugar]

🏵 Your Tea Is Ready 🏵

Parts:

https://milqueandsugar.tumblr.com/post/643788553154920448/can-you-techno-with-a-reader-who-is-constantly

https://milqueandsugar.tumblr.com/post/643889114110918656/idk-if-this-is-where-you-put-requests-but-do-you

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood, injury

Genre: Angst

| Hear No Evil, Do No Evil |

After your second kind of a date kind of not a date your very cateful around Techno

Every part of you tells you your being paranoid, but the other knows that theres something he isn't telling you

You know the piglin to well not to know when he's lying

And you care to much to ignore it

Convinced he's done something to upset you Techno doesn't search for your company like he used to

Something both him and the voices aren't very happy about

Being in love is a new emotion for him, he loves Philza sure, he loves Steven but he's never been IN love

He never realized how different those statements were before

Just like when he goes to many days without a kill the voices begin to get louder and louder, only this time he had no idea how to please them

Before he had lost everything he could lose he used to lock himself away during these fits

Know that he knows himself better, and how to control himself, he just goes around slaying any animal that crossed paths with him

Not the most elegant solution but it brought more peace to his mind

Now with no idea how to get the voices quiet he's resorted to quite literally trapping himself in his bunker

He know's your upset

He's convinced himself it's because of him

Theres no way in hell he's going to see you when all he can think about is how good you smell, how your smile makes his frozen heart melt, how soft your skin is compared to his own, how lovingly you adjust his clothes or armour after battle

All the while he scars the stone ground with his claws, chanting mantras alongside unheard voices

It had been a good two weeks since you had heard from the piglin. Not entirely unusual for you, as you rather detested the cool weather up in the arctic. However knowing there was some sort of conflict between you and your best friend made you restless at night, you couldn't keep ignoring him. He didn't deserve that, plus you missed Philza's morning tea, the smell of campfires that clung to everything in his house, the way Steve would bring sticks for you to toss. You missed the magnificent bastards that made up the Antarctic empire. More importantly, you missed Technoblade.

By the time you reached the cabin you had noticed it was unusually still. Steve and Carl were out in the yard, mosing about but there was no sign of Technoblade or Philza. They were both pretty hard workers, stubborn as hell as well, seeing as it was half past twelve you would expect the two of them to be running around doing chores. Surprisingly however it was still, perhaps they had things inside to do? Or maybe they took your suggestion for a lunch break a bit more seriously then expected.

Entering the cabin you call out for them, nothing, looking around you couldn't help but notice how much of a mess everything was. You had only ever seen the house in this much disarray before they traveled, or that time Phil let a creeper into the house and things got fucken wild. But, if traveling was the case why was Carl out front? And why was Techno's sword hung up on the mantle.

And unsettling feeling began to creep over your shoulders as you slowly begin to pick up the clutter. You couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for things, so you decided to wait until you could come up with one or was given one. The sun had long set before Phil arrived at the house, clearly surprised to find you still sorting through chests. Clearly worried as well.

You turn to greet the man but are quickly cut off, "what are you doing here?" He ushers quickly shitting the door behind him. "I was looking for Technoblade, why is something happening? Is the butcher gang back?" You explain, chest tightening with unease. Something was seriously wrong. "No, no nothing like that we aren't in any danger. Technoblade is having another fit, he's not doing very well at the moment. It might be best for you to leave" Phil warned, his usual cheerful voice dripping with a nervousness you hadn't heard from him in a long time. You wave off the older gentleman scoffing, "Phil you're forgetting I used to go hunting with him I've seen him pretty bad-" "He's locked himself in his bunker. He doesn't even trust himself anymore, he won't eat nor sleep, whatever he has going on in his head is far more then the two of us can handle at the moment" Phil cut you off. You stood in shock, he locked himself away? Technoblade hasn't done that in.. years! What the hell was going on with him.

You wanted to believe Phil was lying to you, that Technoblade was off terrorizing villagers and he was just buying his companion time. But the genuine look of fear in his emerald eyes made your stomach sink. "He's not well Y/N, I certainly don't want him to come back to you dead or injured. He'll come through eventually, just not right now. " The blonde approached you and wrapped strong arms around your shoulders, you hadn't even realized that you were crying until he began to shush you.

"Listen, listen, stay the night here. It's too late for you to travel especially in this sort of weather, in the morning I'll take you back home, I'll let you know immediately when hes better" He assures you, pulling away to cup your face in his hands and wipe your tears with his thumbs. "Let's get you to bed, come on, let's go." Fatherly wasn't something you saw much in Phil anymore, but you couldn't deny how comforting it was, if not a bit embarrassing to have the man tuck you into Techno's sheets before turning out the lamp.

As you lay in the blood God's bed, listening intently to the sound of the howling wind you began to scheme. Something you did best was planning, and this night was no different. You had no idea how long Techno had been like this, if you had the time to curse yourself for avoiding him you would, but for the moment you just needed to make sure he wasn't dead. Slipping from his bedroom and past Phil's you gather a plate of rather light food, knowing he'd get sick if he ate something to heavy.

Stealing one of the Piglins cloaks you shield the food with your arms as you sneak our of the house. You knew Philza only had your best interest at heart, but he should have known better then to tell you your friend was in danger. Especially when that friend was less then a brisk walk away. By the time you get to the false wall your already shivering, the wind nipping at anything it could get at. Your nose was already beginning to run as you hit the disguised button and the wall drops.

At first you see nothing, the darkness and the snow fall blinding you to the scene in front of you. Stepping into what little shelter the cave provided you struggled to steady yourself after stepping on what looked to be the remains of a netherite chestplate. Hung up on the fact that he broke netherite with supposedly his bare hands you don't realize the Piglin lunging at you until your buried in the snow. Plates long discarded and broken you stare the husk of the man you knew in his wild eyes.

Almost like you could read the voices chants of your demise in the pools of ebony fear seemed to strike you harder then his fist. You heard your ribs breaking before you felt them, thank God for adrenaline. You felt nauseous, sick even as you blindly scratch and push at the weight on top of you. Grabbing a tusk by its base you pull left as hard as you can, taking his moment of unbalance to scramble away. Your hands grope for any sort of hold in the snowbank, desperate to get away from the beast on top of you. You dont make it far however before claws tear at the clothes and skin around your ankles, pulling you towards them with little care. Your screams of pain and/or fear are cut short by clawed hands tightening around your throat. Your pathetically small ones meet his, scratching desperately at the exposed hand with one while the other grabs a fist full of snow and smashes it into his face.

The white of the snow falling around you seemed denser then before, you felt cold, to your very bone under him. Under his stare. You've looked death before in the eyes, more then on one occasion, and you had never remembered them being so beautiful. For a split second you swear you hear another voice being carried by the wind, peeling your tear welled eyes from the piglin on top of you the fall towards the direction of the cabin, then at the shards of netherite. You had looked death in the eyes before, and you had yet to die. You weren't going to now.

Grabbing the shard and effectively slicing your hand open in the process you blindly begin to swing. Your chest burns, your skin burns, your vision is beginning to dim to nothing, all you can hear is the wind. Your stabs, or attempts at stabbing does little, with what minuscule amount of consciousness you have in yourself you get one finally blow, to somewhere before you cant feel anything anymore. You had never imagined death to feel so cold.

Technoblade's eyes begin to fall back into focus, pain driving the voices in his head silent as he looks down at the shard of netherite in his arm. More importantly his eyes fall onto a golden ring on the hand belonging to his attacker. A bear etched into its surface. That was Y/N's ring, he had given it to her for christmas. Anger flooding his chest he grinds his teeth, hands tightening around their neck. What right do they have to be wearing your ring? Dark eyes fall back down onto their attacker, bloodied and bruised.. and Y/N. His heart sunk faster then an anvil in a lake, scrambling backwards from your limp body he cant decide whether to look at you or his hands covered in your blood. No, no it couldn't be you, you were.. you were mad at him why would you come up? Why would you attack him?

Crawling to his side he lifted you into his arms, inspecting you closely. This had to be some sort of trick, some sort of lie? No, no you would never attack him you loved him, he loved you! That's why he was like this he was like this because he loved you! Scared lips began to quiver, and tears began to fall and subsequently freeze to his cheeks. No, no, no.

He couldn't think, his mind flooded with the screaming of the voices in his head, begging him to save you, to help you, to hold you. For once in his life he didnt know how, he couldn't save you. He had always been your knight in shining armour, and he cant save you.

He can't save you.

[sage-nebula]

On the one hand I'm really glad that my dad is able to set aside his homophobia enough so that he didn't disown me (or worse) when I finally admitted to him that I'm gay. Granted, I did it in baby steps, partially because it took me a long time to figure out my own sexuality and the words that felt the most correct when describing my sexual orientation. (For the record, that is asexual lesbian, though often I just say ace lesbian or even just lesbian for simplicity's sake.) So for a while he knew me as bi (because I thought I was), and as asexual (I am but my attitude has shifted somewhat), and it's only in the past couple of years that I've really come to realize that no, I really am gay as hell, and I'm only ever going to be interested in women romantically or sexually, period. And he's okay with this, but he's okay with it because he is convinced that if I "just found the right man" I would "change my mind," and to that end he's been doing this really annoying thing where he a.) won't ever refer to a future partner of mine as a woman, and b.) tries to insist that I "shouldn't limit myself" and that if I "just found a man who could make me happy" then "why not as a life partner." Literally we had a conversation one day that was like:

Me: "I would like to get married someday and I only want to marry a woman."

My dad: "But why limit yourself if a man could make you happy?"

Me: "Okay, would YOU marry a man?"

My dad: "I could marry a man. I wouldn't—"

Me: "Okay, well I could marry a man, but I wouldn't."

My dad: "But why limit yourself?"

It is honestly the most frustrating thing in the entire world. Or that's an exaggeration, but it's just so aggravating because I can tell that he's pushing for this not because he thinks I'm "shutting myself off from happiness," but because he is so desperate to pretend I'm not gay that he wants me in what would be, in his eyes, a straight-passing relationship. This man went so far as to say, "maybe he would also be gay and you two would just live together" and I just? What??? In literally what world would a gay man rather live with a lesbian than, idk, find a husband (or multiple husbands or boyfriends I don't know his life) for himself? Like this is literally just "be in the closet and be life partners so I can call him your boyfriend / husband" and I just. It's just so FRUSTRATING.

Again, I know this is all whining and it could be so much worse. He could have disowned me, could have beaten me, could have sent me to conversion therapy, so many things. (Granted, I didn't come out until I was already an adult so I don't know how much luck he would have had with that last one, but still.) This is like, the epitome of first-world problems. But every single time I bring up having a future wife or something, he always tries to push the "or a man" angle even though I've insisted that's not going to happen, and then he acts like I'M the one being unreasonable, like I'm just being obstinate and this is just a phase or whatever. It feels so patronizing and invalidating and it just pisses me the fuck off. Also, I know for a fact he's gone around at family gatherings where I'm not present telling the family "if she just found the right man" so like, I know he's praying to the god he believes in that I'll "realize I'm not actually a lesbian" if I meet some magical penis. That'll never happen but I know that's what he's hoping for.

Anyway, I got lowkey sexually harassed at work again today and I had to report it to HR, so between that and thinking about this again I just had to get some things off my chest, and the reblog lock feature makes it a lot easier now, so. I feel at least a little better.