#man whatever i need like five days to pass i want to get as far from today as i can just. want september to end at least

[navramanan]

I lower my expectations for friendships with every repeated experience for the sake of not losing the few people i have in my life, i dont know how much lower i can get before i lose my dignity

[waitimcomingtoo]

Meet Me Behind The Mall

Pairing: shy!Peter Parker x popular!Reader

Synopsis: after getting ditched by your friends, you spend a day with Peter in the mall, who’s secret you recently figured out

Masterlist

In his peripheral vision, Peter could see a tiny piece of paper being pushed onto his side of the lab table. He curiously looked at it, then up at you. You nodded your head towards the note so Peter unfolded it.

“What’s the answer to number 7?” The note read. Peter glanced up at the professor before scribbling down the answer and passing the note back to you. You read his response and circled the correct answer. A few seconds passed when another note was passed across the table. Peter picked it up and opened it to reveal three hearts drawn around the words “thank u!”. Peter felt his face flush and looked over at you again. You gave him a thumbs up before going up to hand in your test.

After class, you caught up with Peter in the hallway and put your hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Thank you so much for helping me in there. I counted up all the answers I was confident I got right and it wasn’t enough to get a pass. I just don’t get this unit.”

“You’re welcome.” Was all Peter could say. He thought about offering to tutor you or telling you he also struggled with the topic, but he felt too shy to get anything more out than a cordial response.

“I bet you did really well. You always do. God, I wish I was as good at science as you are. It’s just never come naturally to me. How do you always know the answer?” You asked him as you continued to walk together.

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugged and immediately scrunched his face in embarrassment. He wished he could be better at conversing with you, especially since you were always so nice to him. He saw a pack of your friends coming down the hallway and they waved you over, putting your conversation out of it’s misery.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll see you next class. Have a good weekend.” You waved to him as you ran to catch up with your large group of friends. He knew he should return the sentiment but instead stayed silent and gave you a pathetic wave back.

That night, the cheap alcohol of the frat party didn’t sit well with you so you headed home early. You were a pretty far walk from your dorm but felt too nauseas to get into a car. Instead, you started walking home and let the cold New York air calm you down.

“Where are you going, gorgeous?”

You felt panic drop in your stomach at the sound of a man’s voice somewhere in the darkness but kept walking to your dorm. The sound of footsteps behind you picked up behind you so you quickened your pace. You could still hear music coming from the party you had left so you knew people were nearby if worst came to worst.

“Hey. I’m talking to you. Where are you going?”The man asked as he caught up to you and walked beside you. You ignored him and tugged your jacket tighter around your body. He suddenly took you by the elbow and you froze in fear.

“Come on. Don’t be rude. Just give me a smile and I’ll leave you alone.” The man said with a sickening smile as he tried to get you to look at him.

“Please. I’ll give you whatever you want from my bag. Just leave me alone.” You pleaded and moved away from him. He snatched your purse from your hands and started to rummage through it.

“What the hell is this? This is just full of receipts.” He grimaced in disgust and pulled out a handful of crumbled receipts.

“I don’t want to throw them out in case I need to return something one day.” You said meekly.

“Do you even have a wallet? All I’m finding is lip gloss.” The man said as he picked up five different lip products from the bottom of your bag.

“Oh, I’m sorry you didn’t find a better person to rob.” You scoffed sarcastically. The man looked up at you with a primal look in his eyes.

“Oh, you think you’re funny? I don’t like girls who think they’re funny.” He said and gripped your elbow again. You tried to pull away but he was too strong. Before you could tell him to let to, Spiderman dropped down next to you. You cracked a smile at the sight of him and let out a sigh of relief.

“Sir, I hate to be the one to tell you this but that purse does not to with that outfit.” Peter sassed and moved his hands in dramatic exasperation.

“Huh?” The guy said and let go of you.

“Now, you better not have left a bruise on this lovely lady’s elbows or you and I are gonna have a serious problem.” Peter warned as he shot a web at the guys pants. He yanked them down and the man’s jeans fell to his ankles.

“Hm. I did not peg you for a boxers guy. Your whole vibe screams “Fruit of the Loom” tighty whities. Yet now I stand corrected.” Peter said as he tilted his head to the side. You covered your mouth and let out a laugh, making the man grow angry. He went to lunge at Peter but tripped over his dropped pants.

“Uh oh. Someone’s angry. Maybe your whities are a little too tighty.” Peter commented as he pinched his fingers together. You laughed again as Peter shot a web at your purse.

“I’ll take that.” He quipped and yanked the purse out of the man’s hands.

“Thank you!” Peter said politely as he caught your purse.

“Hey!” The man shouted.

“Hey?” Peter laughed. “You’re yelling at me like it’s yours.”

The man tried to lunge at Peter again and ended up falling flat on his face. Peter took that as his cue to wrap an arm around you and pick you up to swing you to safety. He landed a few blocks away and carefully put you down. You stared at him through the mask as he put you down, your faces just inches apart. Peter gulped and felt his entire face go red beneath the mask.

“Thank you, Spiderman.” You smiled softly at him as you slowly withdrew your arm from around his neck.

“You’re very welcome, miss. I believe this belongs to you.” He said as he put your purse back into your hands. Your eyebrows knit together suddenly in confusion and you let out a short laugh.

“Wait, Peter?” You asked, making Peter’s heart drop.

“Uh, what?” He gulped. “Who’s that? I’m your friendly neighbor Spiderman.”

“Right. Sorry. You sound just like this guy in my chemistry class.” You laughed and shook your head. Peter felt his blush spread all the way to his ears over you recognizing the sound of his voice. You ran in different circles at school, you being apart of the popular group of girls and him belonging to a small group of local nerds. That being said, your ever present kindness towards him left him to develop a small crush on you.

“Oh. Well, that’s not me. But he sounds really handsome.” Peter replied, making you laugh again.

“He is.” You nodded without an ounce of sarcasm in your voice. This piked his curiosity and he leaned in a little.

“He is?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah. Absolutely.” You nodded. “In a hot nerd kind of way. Like Spencer Reid. But kinda short. Which I’m not sure why I’m telling you now that I hear myself.”

“It’s okay. I like that show too.” He chuckled shyly. “He sounds really cool.”

“He is really cool. At least, I think he is. But I’m not really sure. Everytime I try to talk to him, he looks away.” You sighed like you were disappointed. Peter realized you were a little drunk and probably didn’t know what you were saying. Even if that was the case, it was still nice to hear.

“Maybe he’s just shy. And doesn’t know how to look pretty girls in the eye.” Peter said as he kicked a rock around with his foot.

“That’s a shame.” You smiled sadly. “Because I think he and I could be friends if he ever learned to look at me.”

Peter stopped messing with the rock and looked up at you. There was a smallness to you tonight that shone through your party dress and heavy makeup. Your typically bright hand bubbly demeanor was cloudy by something you weren’t telling him.

“Maybe he’ll start.” He told you.

“I hope so.“ You answered honestly. “He seems nice. I could use a friend like him.”

Standing under that streetlight, Peter noticed a sadness to you for the first time. You were usually in a circle of friends all wearing smiles but right now, you seemed completely alone down to your bones.

“So how was your night?” He asked in a quiet voice. You stared off into the distance as your eyes brimmed with tears suddenly.

“Do you ever feel completely alone despite being in a room full of people you know?” You asked him.

“I do, actually. All the time.” He answered. You looked at him and smiled sadly.

“Do really, Spiderman?” You asked with hope in your voice. It wasn’t that you wanted him to feel alone. You just wanted to know you weren’t the only one who felt that way.

“I do. Is that how you felt tonight?”

“I don’t know. I guess. Sometimes I make jokes and my friends all look at each other. And they all make this face as if they’re thinking the same thing. And what they’re thinking is that I’m a freakish alien who they’re embarrassed to know. That’s how I felt tonight.”

“Well that’s no fun. And you’re not a freakish alien. You’re very funny.”

“And you know that because you’re the cute guy in my chemistry class?” You asked with a hopeful smile.

“I’m not him. I’m just guessing that you’re funny. So maybe you are an alien. I don’t know. This is our first time meeting.”

“Right.” You rolled your eyes. “So how do you think you did on the last test? I actually feel pretty confident.”

“I don’t know because I didn’t take any test because I’m not the guy in your chemistry class. Now can I walk you home? It’s freezing out here and I have no jacket to offer you.”

“Sure, thanks. I’m this way.” You said and pointed in the direction of your dorm. Peter placed a hand on the small of your back and guided you towards your dorm.

“You should get a friend to walk with you next time you leave a party. It’s not safe to be out here by yourself. Especially with guys like that going around snatching purses.”

“I know. I asked my friends but they weren’t ready to leave yet.” You shrugged.

“And they let you walk home alone? Drunk? Sounds like you need some new friends.” Peter joked but you nodded in agreement.

“I know. But you know how friends can be. They still wanted to party. Why should I be their problem?” You shrugged again, making Peter frown.

“It’s not a problem to look out for you.” He said simply.

“That’s easy for you to say. You look out for everyone. It’s your job.” You reminded him.

“I’m not just saying that because of my job. It wouldn’t be a burden to take care of you no matter who I was.” Peter replied, making you stop walking. He looked at you and you looked that you had been waiting your whole life to hear what he had just said.

“Thank you.” You said with a fond smile.

“You’re very welcome.” Peter replied in an equally soft voice. You kept walking in comfortable silence until you reached the girls dorm.

“This is my dorm.” You told him. Thanks again for walking me home. And getting my purse back for me.”

“Anytime.”He nodded. “I just hope it doesn’t happen again. But if it did, you know.”

“You’d be here.” You finished his sentence.

“Exactly.” He smiled. “You can count on it.”

You couldn’t see the smile under his mask but you knew it was there. You held up your purse to show him that you had it before walking up a few of your dorm steps.

“See you at school?” You asked him.

“Don’t think so.” Peter chuckled. You squinted your eyes as if you didn’t believe him but eventually shrugged.

“That’s too bad. Good night.” You waved to him and walked the rest of the way up the stairs.

“Good night.” He called after you.

Once Monday came, you were determined to talk to Peter. You didn’t have chemistry that day so you’d have to find him elsewhere on campus. You knew he usually hung out in the library so you went there to check. Sure enough, he was at a table with his friends Ned and Miles.

“Hey, Peter.” You greeted as you walked up to him.

“H-hi.” He stammered. “What are you? I mean, how are you up? I mean, how are you? What’s up?”

“There we go.” Ned nodded. “I knew he’d get there eventually.”

“I’m good.” You replied. “How are you doing?”

“Ooo. Is this your girlfriend from chemistry class?” Miles asked as his raised his eyebrows suggestively.

“Is that what you told them?” You smiled in surprise as you looked at Peter.

“No. I didn’t. I swear.“ He assured you as his entire face went red.

“He did show us the note you gave him.” Ned told you.

“Oh yeah. Three hearts. I didn’t realize you guys were so serious.” Miles teased Peter as he gave his friends a look that begged them to stop.

“I never said she was my girlfriend.” Peter whispered harshly to them. You could tell he was getting embarrassed so you played along to save him. You frowned and ran your fingers through his hair before letting your hand rest on his cheek.

“What? You didn’t tell them about us, baby?” You asked and titled your head to the side. Miles and Ned’s made surprised faces as Peters entire face went red.

“W-what?” Peter sputtered out.

“I’m messing with you.” You smiled. “But I do need to talk to you.”

“Oh, uh, okay. Sure.” Peter said and moved his bag so you could sit down. You looked at Miles and Ned and smiled timidly.

“Privately.” You clarified. Miles and Ned “oooo”ed as you walked away from their table and went into the hall.

“Dude, follow her.” Ned told him and pushed Peter up from the table. Peter nervously fixed his hair and got up to follow you.

“What’s up?” He asked once you were alone. You looked around to see who was watching before stepping closer to him.

“I just wanted to thank for getting my purse back for me. It’s my favorite bag. And my favorite lip combo was in there. You really saved me.” You said and squeezed his arm in appreciation.

“Oh, you’re welcome. Anytime.” Peter said waved his hand like it was no big deal. Your lips curved into a wicked smile and Peter realized his mistake.

“Shit.” He whispered as you jumped up and down and clapped your hands.

“I knew it!” You whispered. “I knew that was your voice!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He said quickly.

“Yes you do.” You grinned and poked him in the chest.

“I really don’t.” He shrugged but he knew he was caught.

“Then why are you so flustered right now?” You folded your arms to ask him. Peter touched his burning cheek and debated telling you his face always did that around you.

“I’m not.” He lied.

“Your face is hot.” You pointed out as you touched a cold hand to his cheek.

“Psht. Your face is hot.” He scoffed and pushed your hand away.

“Thank you.” You said pointedly. “But you and I both know that I figured out your little secret. There’s no point in denying it now.”

“I don’t have any secrets. So you don’t know anything.”

“Come on, Peter.” You whined. “I’ve been waiting all weekend to tell you that I know. I wanted to text you but I don’t have your number and I couldn’t find you on Instagram. You have one, don’t you?”

“I’m not on social media.” He told you.

“Okay. That’s serial killer behavior but I’m willing to look past it if you confirm my suspicions.” You said and excitedly drummed your fingers on your chin.

“I’m not Spiderman. So I cannot confirm your suspicions.” He whispered for only you to hear. You smirked a little before shrugging.

“I guess you can’t.” You sighed. “It’s weird though, right?”

“What’s weird?” He wondered.

“That I never said you were Spiderman. I just thanked you for getting my purse.” You said with a coy smile. Peter hung his head in shame as he confirmed to you for the second time that he was in fact Spiderman.

“I knew it! I knew it was you. I even recognized the way you walk.” You said proudly.

“What do you know about the way I walk?” He asked with a shy smile.

“You walk really stiff like you’re holding two invisible briefcases.” You explained and demonstrated for him with a near perfect imitation of how he walked.

“What? No I don’t. Oh wait. Yeah, I kinda do.” He realized as he watched you.

“You definitely do. Now can you please just tell me I’m right? I’ve been thinking about it all weekend. I need to hear you tell me I was right.” You begged him as you put your hands on his shoulders. Peter playfully rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and sighed.

“You right.” He mumbled.

“Yes! I knew I was right!” You cheered. “Everything makes sense now. That’s why you’re always disappearing or yawning or bruised. You’re probably up every night getting girls purses, aren’t you?”

“Not always purses.” He instead. “Sometimes it’s bikes. And one time, a mean chihuahua.”

“Wow.” You said with genuine amazement. “So how long have you been doing this?”

“Since I was 15.”

“15? Damn. I was exhausted from working 4 hours a week at Kohl’s at 15. How do you do it? You must be so tired.” You frowned and rubbed his arm kindly.

“It’s tiring but someone has to do it.” He shrugged. “Just like someone has to hand out Kohl’s cash.”

“Thats true.” You chuckled. “And that’s a very selfless way to look at it.”

“Oh. Thank you.” He smiled shyly. “But please, you can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody else knows.”

“Duh.” You replied. “This is our secret.”

“Yeah. Ours.” He smiled and felt his face heat up at the mention of something belonging to only the two of you. Your moment was cut short by one of your friends coming up to you and completely disregarding Peter.

“Hey, girl. I need your notes from class today.” She said to you.

“Oh, sure. How come you weren’t there?” You asked her.

“Liz and I went got coffee instead.” She replied. Peter could tell you were hurt they didn’t ask you to come get coffee but you just smiled and nodded.

“I’ll text them to you.” You told her.

“Thanks. Let’s go to the library. I need you to look at my English paper and tell me if it’s good.” She said and nodded towards the library. You looked at Peter and gave him an apologetic smile.

“Bye, Peter. I’ll talk to you later, okay?” You told him before leaving with your friend.

“Why were you talking to that lesbian?” Your friend asked you as you walked away.

“That wasn’t a lesbian. That was my friend Peter.” He heard you tell her before going into the library. He watched you disappear and let out a little sigh. He knew he was going to over analyze that entire conversation for probably the rest of his life, or at least until the next time you spoke.

That weekend, Peter headed to the mall a few blocks from campus to do some wandering by himself since Ned was busying. He did a little shopping before taking a seat on the mall fountain to check his texts. He was so engrossed in his phone that he didn’t notice you walk up to him.

“Well, well, well.” You chuckled, making him look up at you and blush.

“It’s a fountain, actually.” Peter deadpanned, making you crack a smile.

“You’re stupid. Move over.” You laughed and sat beside him. Your knees were touching which made Peters face warm up the way it always seemed to around you.

“Should I be worried? I’m starting to think you might be stalking me.” He teased you.

“Excuse me? I was just walking around and saw you. You’re the one who keeps ending up placed I’m already in.”

“Sounds like something a stalker would say.” He said out of the corner of his mouth.

“You wish I was your stalker. Now come on, give me the haul. What did you buy?” You asked him and nodded towards his bag.

“Socks and boxers.” He smiled proudly and held up his items.

“Oh shit. You did not come to play.”

“I really didn’t.” He played along, making you laugh again. You stared at him for a minute with a fond smile and he stared back with a matching one.

“What?” He wondered.

“You’re talking to me.”

“So?” He laughed shyly. “You’re talking to me.”

“No, I mean, like. Full eye contact. And full sentences. Who is this man? I’ve been waiting to meet him forever.” You teased him and he playfully rolled his eyes.

“I guess it’s easier to talk to you now that you know my secret. You’re not as scary anymore.”

“I was scary before?” You gasped and pretended to be offended.

“Yes. Girls like you are very terrifying to me.”

“Girls like me?” You smiled coyly.

“Pretty girls who are nice to me. I really wish you were a giant snake or the multi-bear from Gravity Falls or something. That’s way less scary.” He insisted.

“You’d rather talk to the multi-bear than me?”You scoffed. “I have half a mind to forget about you and go stalk some other guy.”

“No, please. Stay. I forgot how awkward it is to shop alone and I still need to get a belt.” He pretended to beg and put a hand on your leg to get you to stay. You looked at the hand on your leg and cracked a smile at the unexpected contact from him.

“Well I would never abandon a man on a belt quest.” You replied, making him laugh.

“Thank you. What about you? What are you looking for?”

He could have said “shopping for” but that’s not what he meant. He wanted to know what you were looking for. You cracked a smile as if you understood what he was asking.

“Better friends, actually. Have you seen any?” You asked with a playful but sad smile.

“I just saw your friends in H&M.” He told you and pointed to the store. You shrugged a little and shook your head.

“Yeah. I saw them too. After they all told me they were busy today and couldn’t hang out.” You admitted without looking at him. Peter frowned and moved closer to you.

“They came here without you?”

“I asked them to hang out. They all said they couldn’t. But now I’m getting a sneaking suspicion there’s a second group chat that I’m not in.” You laughed but he knew it was fake.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

“I came here to cheer myself up and ended up feeling 200 times worse when I saw them all hanging out without me. I didn’t even say anything to them because I didn’t want them to feel bad for not inviting me. Not that they ever care when they make me feel bad.” You laughed again but it ended up in a sigh. You stared at your shoes for a second and Peter stayed silent.

“Girls suck.” You said after a beat. “Not always, of course, but when they suck, they really suck. They know how painful it can be to be the only one left out. But they still did it to me. I don’t understand why.”

“Neither do I. I thought those girls were your friends?”

“I don’t know. I kinda saw this coming.” You admitted. “I started to notice that I was always the one texting first. And always the one trying to make plans. And when they did text me, they were asking me for something. It was never just to check in on me.”

“That’s really hurtful. I’m sorry. I’ve been there too. It sucks when you realize that if you stopped reaching out to someone, you’d probably never speak again.” Peter replied, making you smile sadly at him.

“Exactly. Or when you wonder how long it would take them to notice if you stopped reaching out. And worse, wonder if they’d notice at all.”

“No one deserves to feel that way. Especially not someone as kind and considerate as you. You really do need new friends.” He nodded in agreement, making you genuinely laugh this time.

“We’re friends, right? Because I know your secret.”

“We can be friends.” Peter nodded, bringing a smile out of you.

“Thanks.” You told him and gave his shoulder a rub. Peter felt a sudden burst of confidence and decided to keep the momentum he had built.

“You’re probably gonna say no to this, but Ned and I were gonna get sandwiches and then build legos together tomorrow. You can come, if you’d like.”

“That’s okay. You don’t have to give me a pity invite to your sandwich and Lego party.” You told him.

“It’s not a pity invite. I want you to be there. It would make me happy to have you around.” Peter answered, making you smile once again. It was the simple change from “you can come” to “I wanted you to be there” that made all the difference.

“Do you want to hang out with me today?” You asked him.

“Yeah. I do.” He said immediately. You stood up and held out your hand for him to take.

“Come on. Let’s go look at the home decor.”

Peter took your hand and let you pull him towards the home decor store in the mall. He awkwardly ran ahead of you so that he could open the door for you but it was worth it when he saw you smiling.

“Thank you.” You said curtly and walked inside. He followed you around the store like a puppy dog and listened to your commentary on the various throw pillows and wall art as if it was words from a prophet.

“This would be perfect for you.” You gasped and held up an old Halloween pillow that had a sequenced spiderweb on it along with a spider made up of mostly fallen off beads.

“Is my job a joke to you?” He laughed and flicked the pillow.

“I mean, I did see some funny videos of you online. How often do you miss your webs and fall into bushes?”

“Bushes are rare, actually. It’s usually car hoods and hot dog stands.” He admitted.

“Ouch.” You grimaced. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No. Hot dog stands are really soft.” He said seriously. You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store.

“I love that I’m the only one that knows this about you.” You told him.

“You really do, don’t you?” He realized with an amused smile.

“Well, yeah. I always knew there was something about you and learning this vindicated me so hard.”

“Something about me? What do you mean?”

“I don’t know. You’re so allusive.” You shrugged. “Always disappearing and reappearing from places. Not on any sports teams but will never miss when throwing something into the trash from across the room. Knows all the answers in chemistry but never raises his hand. Ripped but hides it under Catholic school boy sweaters. I always wondered about you. Now I know.”

“Wow. You pick up on a lot of details. Nobody’s ever really noticed me like that.” Peter said as he looked at the ground so you wouldn’t see how flustered that made him.

“That you know of.” You corrected. “Because I noticed you a long time ago and you had no idea until now.”

“I notice you too.” He said as he looked into your eyes. You smiled at the eye contact and stayed looking at him.

“So, uh, were you just messing with me when you told Spiderman that you thought I was, you know.”

“A hot nerd?”

“Yeah. That.” He laughed shyly.

“I wasn’t messing with you.” You shrugged. “Or him. Either of you. I meant what I said.”

“So did I. I really don’t know how to talk to pretty girls.”

“We’re just regular people. Aside from our razor sharp teeth and detachable feet.”

“Why would you need to detach your feet?” He laughed.

“I don’t know but I used to have these dolls when I was younger where you’d yank their whole foot off to change their shoes. And they’d just have a little nub until you put new feet on them. God forbid you lose one of their shoes. Then they have no feet and had to walk around my dollhouse with nubs”.

“To be a woman is to perform.” He nodded along.

“Shut up.” You laughed and kept walking down the aisles of the store. You ended up buy some statue of an animal that you mentioned your mom liked to collect and Peter carried your bag for you into the next store.

“So who else knows about this secret? Besides us two.” You asked as you flipped through a clothing rack.

“My best friend. But that’s because he accidentally walked in on me in my suit. And my aunt. Who found out in the exact same way.”

“Sounds like you need to invest in a giant trench coat to cover yourself with when entering and exiting your room.” You told him.

“That’s a really good idea, actually. Do you think they sell those here?” He asked, making you laugh.

“So I was the first to figure it out?”

“You were. And now I’m really hoping it’s not obvious.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s obvious. I’m just very observant.”

“Of everything or just me?” He asked you.

“Just you.” You teased, making him blush again.

“What else have you observed about me?” He wondered.

“A few things, actually. You keep flexing your hand and I’m starting to think you’re working up the nerve to hold mine. That or you’re fighting the urge to punch me so I’m hoping it’s the former. I also observed that you haven’t checked your phone once since I found you and you’re letting me pick all the stores we go into.”

“Wow. And what do your observations tell you?”

“That you like me.” You said simply and continued looking at the clothes.

“What?” Peter sputtered. “No I don’t.”

“Says the boy who got my purse back from a burglar. Classic crush culture right there.” You clicked your tongue and shook your head.

“What?” He laughed. “That is not what I do when I have a crush on a girl. That’s just my job.”

“All right then. So what do you do when you have a crush?”

“Avoid eye contact and hope she likes shy tendencies. And open doors for her, obviously.” Peter said as he opened the door for you into the next store.

“Good to know.” You said and gave him a pleased smile as you passed him. He continued to follow you down the aisles of the store while holding your collection of clothes you wanted to try on.

“So why spiders? I’ve always wondered why you named yourself after arguably the worst bug of all time. Why not something more palatable like Lady Bug Man? Or Moth Man and then you could live under a bridge and spook people?” You asked as you handed him another dress for you to try on.

“It was a spider bite that gave me the abilities, actually. That’s where I got the name.” He explained as you disappeared behind a changing room curtain. You opened it up after a few seconds in one of the dresses you had taken off the rack.

“Really? I never would’ve guessed that. I’m learning so much right now.” You said as you turned around and moved your hair away from your neck. Peter blushed and picked up what you were implying and zipped the dress for you. You turned back around and gave him a grateful smile.

“What else do you want to know?” He asked with a shy smile. He usually categorized himself as shy and never wanting to be the center of attention, but right now he was hoping you had more questions to ask him. He liked being the center of attention when it was your attention he was getting.

“Why red and blue?” You wondered.

“Red for my mom’s red hair and blue for the car my dad drove.” Peter said out loud for the first time.

“Aw, Peter.” You pouted. “That’s really beautiful. I love that.”

“Thank you. I never told anybody that before.” He admitted.

“Hm. Something else just between us, then.” You winked at him before shutting the dressing room curtain again.

When you left that store, Peter opened the door for you on the way out with his free hand and held your bags with his other hand. As you walked through the mall, yours hands kept bumping against each others. It happened so many times in a row that Peter was starting to think he was doing it on purpose.

“You can, you know. If you want to.” You said without looking at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter lied as your hands bumped once again.

“Okay. Never mind, then.” You replied and kept walking. Peter decided to do something for once and took your hand. You didn’t say anything but smirked and gave his hand a squeeze. You stayed holding hands as you went to a few more stores and ended up back by the fountain. Through the streams of water, you suddenly spotted the very group of friends that had left you out.

“Oh God. It’s them.” You gasped and stopped short. Peter thought you were going to drop his hand but you didn’t.

“What are you gonna do?” He asked. “I can stick to the wall if that at all helps.”

“Well I’m definitely gonna need to see that at some point but not right now. I need to hide.” You decided and looked around for the nearest exit. During your search, you heard the sound of your friends laughing and it made your stomach drop. You didn’t want to run away anymore and pretend that the things they did didn’t hurt you. They did. And it was time they knew that.

“Actually, no.” You decided. “Why should I hide to make them more comfortable? They did something mean to me. I shouldn’t run away just so they don’t have to face what they did. I should go talk to them.”

“Let’s do it.” Peter agreed and you smiled. You blew out a nervous breath before walking up to the group of girls.

“Hey guys! So glad your schedules freed up.” You greeted them with a friendly smile. They all froze and either looked down at the ground or at you with stunned expressions. You took your time looking at every one of their guilty faces with an unamused expression.

“We were gonna text you.” Liz said quickly.

“Don’t even worry about it.” You told her. “In fact, don’t text me ever again. I deserve friends who include me. Not people who keep me around just in case they need something from me.”

“So what? You’re gonna ditch us to hang out with losers?” Liz scoffed and looked at Peter. You felt bad that Peter had caught a stray but he wasn’t phased.

“You’re the ones who just lost a good friend. And missed out on a fun day at the mall with the coolest girl in New York. So I’m pretty sure that makes you guys the losers.” Peter stated. Everyone, including you, was shocked to hear those words out of the notoriously shy Peter’s mouth. You looked at him and gave him a grateful smile.

“Yeah.” You agreed. “You guys are losers. You all say bad things about each other behind each other’s back and I’m sure you did the same to me so I can’t say I’m gonna miss this friend group. But I do have to thank you for ditching me or else I wouldn’t have found a real friend.”

“Who? This lesbian?” One of the other girls scoffed and gestured to Peter.

“Yeah.” Peter snapped. “This lesbian.“

“Now if you’ll excuse us, Peter needs to find a belt.” You said and walked away with Peter following right behind you. You didn’t drop his hand as you did a half walk half run through the mall as adrenaline rushed through you. Once you were far enough away from them, you stopped running.

“That felt good.” You said through an out of breath laugh.

“For me too.” Peter agreed. “And I was almost entirely uninvolved in that situation.”

“Come on. I wanna do the Photo Booth and immortalize this day.” You said and excitedly pulled him into the Photo Booth. Peter shut the curtain while you picked the boarder for the pictures, purposefully choosing one that had red hearts all over it.

“Okay. We only have five seconds between pictures so you have to pick your poses quickly.” You told him as the countdown began.

“But I’m so awkward. I don’t know how to pose.” Peter said as the countdown dwindled down.

“Just smile and look like you like me.” You said and pressed your cheek against his to smile for the camera. The camera flashed and you slung your arm around him for the next photo. The camera flashed again and Peter gulped.

“I do like you.” He said in a soft voice as he turned to look at you.

You looked at him and leaned in just as the camera flashed. You were still kissing when the fourth and final flash went off but you didn’t care. You pulled Peter closer by his shirt while his hands snaked around your waist. You pushed him away suddenly with a suspicious look on your face.

“Wait, do the webs, like, come out of your butt ever?”

“What? No.” He laughed. “They don’t come out of me at all. I built devices and developed a web fluid to shoot out of them. I don’t actually produce webs.”

“Oh. Okay.” You nodded and pulled him back into a kiss. He kissed you back for a moment before pulling away.

“Wait, would that have been a deal breaker if I did? Produce webs, I mean.” He asked you.

“I mean, I’d still like you but I don’t know if I could date a guy who could physically produce webs in his body. I just think that would really gross me out. Producing webs is I think where I’d have to draw the line.”

“So does that mean you’d date a guy who doesn’t produce webs?” He asked with a hopeful smile.

“Isn’t that every guy?” You pointed out.

“Oh. Yeah. I guess it kinda is.” He realized. “Well, would you date a guy who is far more likely to shoot webs from his butt than the average man? Given his spider themed career path?”

“Well, I don’t know. I never thought about that before.” You pursed your lips and pretended to give it genuine though. Peter playfully rolled his eyes at you and cupped your face to kiss you again.

“What do you think now?” He asked with your face still in his hands.

“I think I would.” You smiled and tugged his shirt to bring him back into a kiss.

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[lemonlover1110]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 11] New Year's Eve

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

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Spending a week alone is not something that you usually mind, but this time you actually feel sad as you spend the time alone. When you start to forget about your loneliness, you look at the charm bracelet that Toji gave you– And when it’s not that, it’s the stuffed bear that’s in your room. You just wish that you could spend time with them, especially this time of the year. You try not to sit in your room and dwell, but it feels impossible.

Everyone around you has someone else, and it’s a reminder of how lonely you are now. For the first time, you don’t have Kento with you, even if last year he was sick. Sadly you can’t escape going out because you still have to work. You luckily have some days off, but you still don’t escape going outside. You try your best to avoid going out.

You only go out when you absolutely need to, at least for the first five days that they’re gone. When the peak of the holidays passes, you go out without a problem. 

You’re out for dinner, getting something hot to warm you up. Since you’re not taking care of little Megumi, you find yourself with a lot of free time, and now you have no idea what to do with it. You try to recall what you did before taking care of Megumi, but it’s hard. Even during the week that you weren’t talking to Toji, you had no idea what to do.

So you’re taking advantage of this rare opportunity and going out to eat. You have a couple of drinks, order food until you’re stuffed, and when you’re all done, you pay and walk out of the restaurant. But life is never so simple. 

You walk past someone that you can’t easily ignore– Having white hair at such a young age isn’t exactly too common. What’s weirder about him, is that it’s his natural hair color. You try to walk past him as if you don’t know him, but he notices you and he grabs your arm, stopping you from walking further. He says your name and you’re forced to look back at him.

“Can I help you, sir?” You ask, hoping that he’ll drop whatever he has to say if you treat him like a complete stranger. Satoru isn’t one that drops a subject so easily, and he wants to talk to you, so he’s not going away until he talks to you.

“Are you leaving already?” He responds with a question that has an obvious answer since you were talking in opposite directions. You don’t say anything since the answer is pretty clear, and when you stare at each other for a minute, a sigh leaves his lips, “Can we talk?”

“Is there something more to talk about?” You reply, and he furrows his brows. Before he can mutter a word, you speak again, “I’m sorry, Gojo. I’m just really confused as to what you’re doing here. You live nearly an hour away, and you can certainly afford to eat at much nicer places… What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Can’t I get food here?” He’s defensive. You shake your head, and your fingers manage to take off each individual finger that holds your arm until you’re finally free from his grasp.

“Not when you live so far away. Have a good night, Gojo, I hope to never bump into you again.” You walk away, and you know it’d take a minute or two before he chases after you, so you sprint away, until you know that you’re out of sight. 

Luckily that’s the only time that you bump into Satoru during your time alone. And as much as you’d pay attention to him, the only man that you’re currently thinking of is Toji. Toji is slowly consuming your mind, and you hate to admit that you love it. Thinking about Toji brings a smile to your face, and you almost feel guilty because your husband hasn’t been dead for a year. But you can’t dwell on Kento forever.

Maybe you are moving on a little bit too fast, but you’re not putting everything on hold for a year. You’re starting to forget the fact that you didn’t want a relationship because as you think about Toji, the thing you want the most is a relationship. Your opinion has certainly changed.

There’s a knock on your door near noon, and since it’s New Year’s Eve, you have nowhere to go. You went to sleep pretty late the previous night, staying up to binge watch a TV show. You don’t even realize how late it is, walking straight to the door after being awakened by the knocking. When you open it, the biggest smile comes to your face.

“Megumi!” You exclaim, looking down at the little boy who holds a bouquet of flowers that’s almost bigger than him. You take it from his hands, and toss it on the kitchen counter before picking Megumi up from the floor. You kiss his cheek, and ruffle his hair, “How are you, baby? How was it?”

“It was good!” He responds. Your eyes then shift from Megumi to Toji. He’s awkwardly standing, his hands in his pockets, and it causes your face to get warm. He’s looking so fucking cute. Cute isn’t the word that describes Toji very well, but it’s the only word that runs through your mind.

“Please come in, I’m going to change real quick.” You say with a smile on your face. You put Megumi on the ground and run to get some clothes before locking yourself in the bathroom.

Megumi begins to walk around the apartment, and when he spots the giant bear in the corner of the room, he runs to it to hug it. Toji watches and furrows his brows, “What are you doing?”

“It’s soft.” The little boy says, putting his head on the bear. Toji’s smiling as he watches the kid, and he really is her son. Toji would’ve never done this as a child, or maybe he would’ve if he had different parents. He really can’t say.

“It’s nice to see you two again, didn’t expect you to be back so soon.” You tell them as you walk out of the bathroom. You find Megumi with his arms wrapped around your stuffed animal which causes you to chuckle. You really can’t tear your eyes away from the adorable sight.

“Uh… I have to go back to work.” Toji answers, and you furrow your brows.

“Your night job?” You ask him, and Toji nods his head. You tilt your head before asking, “Which is…?”

There’s no response. In fact, he tries to change the subject, “Megumi, stop hugging the bear.”

“But it’s soft.” Megumi argues, and even though Toji wants to laugh, he doesn’t want to focus to shift back to your question. Megumi ends up pulling away and then looking at his father. The bear reminds him of his birthday, and Megumi curiously asks, “When’s my birthday again?”

“Oh, it’s very far away, Megumi. Don’t even start thinking about it.” Toji answers, and the boy pouts his lips. You smile and walk over to him, ruffling his hair which further messes it up. Toji chuckles before commenting, “You love messing up his hair.”

“It’s always a little messy. Isn’t that right, sea urchin?” You watch as Megumi furrows his brows, unsure of what you mean. You then look at Toji and you ask, “When’s your birthday?”

“My birthday?” Toji seems a bit taken back by the question. He bites down on his lips before clearing his throat and answering, “Today.”

“Is it really?” You ask with a laugh, you’re almost one hundred percent sure that he’s messing with you. He scratches his neck before he nods in response causing your eyes to widen. “Toji! You should’ve said something!”

“What for?” Toji responds, and you walk over to him to hug him. He isn’t too sure how to react when he feels your arms wrap around him, but he eventually gives in and hugs you back. “I didn’t have to say anything.”

“Yes you did! We have to celebrate!” You respond, pulling away from the hug and you notice how his cheeks grow pink. You two stare at one another for a moment before you say, “Happy birthday, Toji.”

“Happy– I mean, thank you.” He answers. God, he fucking hates this. He feels as if he’s stuck in a trance, unable to look away. Toji felt like this once in his life before and he fucking hates this feeling. He’s a tough man– He has to repeat it in his head over and over again. He’s not a puny little bitch that blushes and stutters when a pretty woman wishes him a happy birthday.

“Happy birthday, daddy!” Megumi breaks him out, wrapping his arms around his dad’s leg. He wants to be included in a hug, he doesn’t care too much about his father’s birthday. Toji picks up Megumi from the floor and kisses his cheek.

“Thank you, sea urchin.” Toji says, looking back at you. “You’re right, he does look like a sea urchin.”

“Should we do something to celebrate?” You bat your eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet smile; one that makes him weak in the knees. 

“I have to work tonight… Actually, could you babysit tonight?” Toji questions, and while you gruff and puff about it because he ignored your question, you end up humming in response. It’s his birthday so you’ll be as nice as you possibly can be. Maybe tomorrow when he repeats the same question, you’ll be able to be more mad at him. “You’re the best.”

“I know I am.” You respond. Your eyes then fall to the flowers that he bought for you. Your lips go up to his cheek and you sweetly tell him, “Thank you for the flowers, Toji.”

“I picked them!” Megumi claims, and you laugh. You also kiss Megumi’s cheek.

“Thank you for the flowers, Megumi.”

“Are you sleepy, Megumi?” You ask, and even though he’s falling asleep, he shakes his head. Toji went off to work, and since you didn’t have many plans, you’re now on your bed, watching New Year’s TV with Megumi, who sits on the floor. The entire day was spent by Toji unpacking and trying to do chores while Megumi did– Whatever the hell Megumi wanted to do. You tried to help out but Megumi insisted that you had nothing to do, so you didn’t. 

“Not sleepy.” He assures you, even though his head is falling. You yawn, sleepy just like him. If it weren’t for the fact that Megumi insists on staying awake, you’d shut off the TV and go to sleep. Even though you woke up late, you’re more tired than ever. 

You wonder when Toji’s going to get here. The cat is out of the bag and he’s admitted that he isn’t fixing cars up so late (which doesn’t really surprise you if you’re being honest). You try to figure out what his job is but it’s certainly hard to figure out since there’s a vast sea of options. Maybe he did lie to you and he’s going on dates, but you try to remain hopeful that Toji is honest with you. You also don’t like to admit the fact that the thought of Toji going on dates sends you over the edge.

While thinking about Toji you hear a light thud sound, and you look down to find Megumi’s head on the floor. You laugh, hearing the light snoring from the kid. You pick him up from the floor and put him on your bed, throwing a blanket over him. You take his previous spot, allowing him to take up the whole entire bed. Your eyelids feel heavy, and you feel as if the same thing that happened to Megumi, will happen to you. At the very least, you want to be awake when Toji gets back. 

You’re not even old but you feel ancient because staying up till midnight is one of the hardest tasks you’ve done in a while. It feels absurd knowing that the previous night you stayed up without a problem. Maybe there’s just something in the air tonight– Maybe you’ve been thinking too much about Toji and he’s been using up all your energy. You won’t know, you just know that your eyes are shutting.

Until there’s a knock on your door that makes you shoot your eyes open. You stand up and rush to open the door. You see Toji, and this time he didn’t try to change out of his clothes like he usually does. Maybe he’s a waiter or something of that sort and he’s ashamed. 

“He’s asleep.” You tell him, and he walks inside to pick up Megumi and take him back to his apartment. “How was work?”

“Exhausting.” He answers, and he keeps it brief. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t want to wake up the sleeping child, or he simply isn’t in the mood to talk. You don’t mind, after all, you’re sleepy. Toji walks out the door without muttering a single word, and you can’t lie and say that you weren’t offended by it. You shut the door and walk back to your bed, and just as you’re about to lay down, there’s a knock on the door again.

You open it to find Toji again. You stare at each other for a moment, and maybe it’s just your tired eyes deceiving you, but he appears to be trembling. His hands finally cup your face, his eyes looking deeply into yours for a moment, and it causes your heart to skip a beat. His face inches closer, and when his lips are mere centimeters away from yours, he mutters, “I’ve been kicking myself for not spending the night with you and my son.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. We can celebrate tomorrow.” His cold lips finally land on yours. Your lips warm him up, and he can’t seem to pull away. He wants to deepen the kiss, to go one step further but he’s too tired. Maybe he’d just like to cuddle but he can’t do that either. You close your eyes, fully surrendering to the kiss, your hands meeting behind his neck and pulling his head to you. 

You swear you hear fireworks– Which knocks you back into reality. Toji ends up pulling away, and when your lips are parted, you peck him again. You smile at Toji, “Happy new year.”

“Happy new year.” He responds. Your whole body is hot which is odd considering the extreme coldness of the outside. He lets go of you, and while he wants to go in, he holds himself back.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Toji.” You tell him, and he mindlessly nods. You expect him to walk away but instead he awkwardly stands there. You wave at him as you shut the door.

There’s a big smile on your face as you walk back to your bed, and it makes you realize you really like Toji.

[grandline-fics]

Forget-Me-Not

DESCRIPTION: Sometimes things happen beyond our control. After an accident occurs your relationship with Zoro is turned on its head and changed forever.

WARNINGS: nothing too bad in this part

CHARACTERS: Zoro

WORDS: 2,094

A/N: Chapter three is here, this one is a bit slower paced but hopefully you all like how things are progressing. Thank you all for your response to this so far, it means a lot.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three(here) | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven(coming soon)

———————

Your plan to escape the ship was easy in theory but slow to even begin to execute. Since you were still heavily injured from the ‘accident’ you needed to rest. So far you could manage getting in and out of bed and walk a little but anything more strenuous than that left you exhausted and sore even with Chopper’s medicine. As much as you were reluctant to compliment a pirate you had to admit the little reindeer knew his stuff and he had helped you considerably. So far since waking on their ship, he was the one you had the most contact with. 

The only other person so far you dealt with was Sanji who brought you your meals. He didn’t speak much beyond a greeting and explaining what was in the food. You knew there was more he wanted to say but he didn’t. While you slowly picked at and ate the food given you would observe Sanji talk happily with Chopper, giving him his meal before leaving again. 

You found it peculiar that the others you could hear moving around the ship were so hesitant to come and try to convince you they were your friends. As you ate with Chopper one afternoon you finally asked him about it. Your question seemed to surprise him but he explained. “Everyone knows how much you hated pirates until you joined us so they’re giving you the space you want. Even though they miss you and want to visit you, they don’t want you to feel crowded.” 

It was convincing, you weren’t going to lie. Whatever these pirates wanted from you, they were doing their best to get you on their side. Still though, to believe you would willingly join a pirate crew was idiotic. You chose not to make any comment to Chopper’s explanation but after a moment you caught him staring at you, clearly wanting to say or ask you something but was deliberating the decision. It amused you to see he was so uncertain around you. “What is it Chopper?”

“Wo-would you…would you want to have some visitors now?” You could hear the eager, hopeful tone in Choppers voice and saw the way his eyes all but sparkled. Who was it specifically he wanted you to talk to you wondered. Or was he hoping to get a break from his obligations to taking care of you? You were curious about the other inhabitants of the ship so you gave Chopper your best tiny shrug and small smile. “Maybe one or two would be okay…” You barely finished the sentence before Chopper excitedly bounced to his feet and hurried out of the room, his speed startling you. 

You had no choice but to wait for Chopper to return and at the sound of footsteps coming from the hallway you glanced up to the door he’d left open during his quick exit. However it wasn’t Chopper that appeared like you were expecting. The green haired man that spoke to you when you woke passed by and at first you thought he was going to keep walking but on seeing the door was open he glanced in out of idle reflex and seeing you he stopped immediately. He turned his head to face you properly but made no further move to enter the room or speak. Instead he watched you carefully. “You coming in?” You asked evenly.

“Do I need to?” He asked, his voice as deep as it had been the day you woke but the concern was gone. He seemed to be on guard and you couldn’t help but tilt your head curiously at the sudden shift in attitude. 

“Didn’t Chopper go get you?” You knew the answer was no from the way his eyebrows furrowed and shoulders tensed. Still you continued to clarify. “I told him I’d let some of you visit me.”

“Even with no memories?” He asked and you scowled at the suspicion in his tone, your jaw clenching when he even went so far as to fold his arms across his chest. His good eye scanned you critically and you bristled. How dare he judge you? He was the pirate here, not you. “Why would you want to be in the same room as the people you hate?” 

“Well according to Chopper we’re all one big happy family and for a moment I wanted to see for myself if that was true.” You drawled sarcastically as you pulled yourself out of the bed and slowly shuffled towards the doorway as you glared up at him. Your actions weren’t any of his business anyway. “So, you going to come in here and fill my head with stories of adventures and friendship that’ll withstand anything?”

“Not with that attitude I’m not.” His answer made your eyes narrow. Before you could grit out a reply, hurried footsteps sounded and you looked into the hallway to see Chopper, a woman with orange hair and a male with black hair and a straw hat appear. The trio came to an abrupt halt when they saw you and their friend, all of their expressions differing from the other as they took in the scene and tension. Finally the green haired man broke the silence. “Enjoy your visits.” He muttered and was about to walk when you seethed, refusing to let him have the final word. 

“I’ve changed my mind.” You snapped, slamming the door sharply and returning to your bed while you listened to the two new strangers shout. 

“Goddamn it Zoro! What did you say?!” The female’s voice came angrily. So his name was Zoro, you thought as you settled against the pillows. 

“Were you annoyed we were going to see them first?” You bit back a scoff and rolled your eyes at the second voice. As if he wanted to be part of the visiting crew, his whole presence told you he didn’t want to see you and that suited you fine. The less pirates you had to see and make nice to the better. “If you say sorry they might change their mind.”

“Just drop it Luffy.” Zoro’s voice spoke clearly but you could hear the tiredness in his tone as his heavy steps grew fainter. “Saying sorry won’t change anything.” You tried to listen for more but he’d gone with the others following him closely. 

—————

In the middle of the night you felt too restless to even try and sleep. Nothing you’d thought of had helped and now you were just frustrated. Giving up you pulled yourself out of bed and followed the hallway until you were on the Sunny’s deck. It’d been a week since your confrontation with Zoro and since then your recovery had progressed at a decent pace that you could now walk further without feeling the strain. In that time each of the Strawhats had come to see you. 

Luffy and Nami got a second attempt the day after the disaster. You found their dynamic amusing but Luffy’s boundless energy and extreme optimism that your memories would definitely return was exhausting. Thankfully Nami’s sterner approach to her Captain helped rein him in when his enthusiasm was clearly getting to be too much for you. Sanji began to stay a little longer between your meals and you found it slightly easier to talk to him since you were more familiar with him just as you were with Chopper. 

Usopp surprised you by telling about his friend back home who was sick often and relied on him for stories to distract her and keep her spirits high. He gave you the same treatment, telling you stories of the ‘great captain Usopp’ all of them over embellished and having nothing to do with you or your connection to the crew. Robin was quieter and for the first couple of visits didn’t speak much, merely bringing a couple books in case you wanted to read while she brought one for herself to pass the time when you weren’t in the mood for conversation. Thankfully she was similar to Usopp, not forcing the conversation of your past or prodding into your lack of memories. 

Franky and Brook unnerved you on your first meetings with them. A cyborg and a talking skeleton were huge things to have to absorb for anyone. You managed to force yourself to push through that adjustment. You kept telling yourself that you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this obscure crew for long. You’d overheard Nami mention an island coming up and that would be your chance at getting home. Your patience would be rewarded, you just had to hold out a little longer. 

For now though, your focus was on your lack of sleep this night. You weren’t in the mood to stay out on the deck so you climbed the extra set of steps and walked into the galley, not surprised to see it empty and quiet. Flicking on the light you approached the cabinets and let out a small laugh to see the prominent lock on the fridge. Chopper had told you Luffy liked to steal food and Sanji had taken precautions to keep him away. Since you weren’t exactly hungry and didn’t know the code, you turned and flicked the light off again. You were about to leave when you heard two voices coming from the mast leading to the Crow’s Nest. 

“You’re an even bigger dumbass than I originally thought, you know that?” It surprised you to hear Sanji speak so coldly. “What are you trying to prove by being the only person to not see them.”

“Keep you stupid face out of my business and stick to what you do know.” Ah that explained it, Zoro was the reason. 

“Look we’re not stupid…well most of us aren’t stupid.” Sanji growled out as though his less aggressive tone was causing him harm. He was desperately trying to get his rival to see sense but it was next to impossible. “We know they don’t know us anymore and it’s hard but we’re all still trying. Just because it’s not the same doesn’t mean we just throw it all away. Not when it’s possible we can create a friendship with them again.”

“Well if you want to try that then you go right ahead.” Zoro’s tone was sharp and dismissive. “The first chance they get, they’ll be gone. If they’d half their strength back they would have already tried to steal the Mini Merry by now.”

“I’m not disagreeing but can’t you at least-”

“Look I’ve said it before and I’m saying it again. Back off and leave me to deal with things on my own.” With nothing more to say Zoro stalked away to his room while Sanji let out a sigh and climbed the Crow’s Nest to start his watch.

Thankfully you managed to make it back to the medical quarters while Sanji’s back was turned to you. Silently you processed the conversation you’d unintentionally listened in on. There was no denying the sincerity and insistence in Sanji’s voice as he tried to convince Zoro to not distance himself. Zoro’s cold demeanour was something you couldn’t really decipher because you knew nothing about him. You knew nothing of these people apart from what they allowed you to see in your brief interactions. Sharply you sighed and sat on your bed, this wasn’t the plan. Trying to work out these people was a complication. Over and over you told yourself that home and only the home you remembered was your goal. 

You were certain you wouldn’t get any sleep now so you reached over and turned on your bedside lamp and looked at the small pile of books that had gathered. According to Robin these were your current favourites or at least they were before the knowledge of them were erased. Your eyes were drawn to one near the bottom. Its cracked spine showed it had been reread countless times so you reached out and lifted it. 

Blankly you studied the cover, not surprised but still disappointed that it gave you no emotional response, no familiarity or fondness to be holding it again. As you settled back in your bed you opened the book to the first page but your movement made something appear between the pages towards the end of the book. A small card had been used as a bookmark and curiously you pulled it out to inspect it. It was for your birthday and your eyes locked in on the short message beneath your name. “Love always, Zoro.”

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

TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa , @vikispike , @portgasmyass , @diarythroughmylens , @itsagoodluckkiss , @emmaiscool22

[singmyaubade]

you're sick

| sypnosis: eddie has non-stop bullied you since your freshman year and it certainly won't stop as you approach into your senior year.

| who doesn't love a little evil?

| bully!eddie x y/n

| warning: contains NONCON, pure smut, violence, etc..

before you read, this does feature NONCON/RAPE, i am not responsible for what you read further on !

you walked through the hallway, your green skirt with striped white lines at the bottom, flowing side to side and your green vest shown, clearly identifying you as a cheerleader.

from far away, you looked as if you were simply fine and perfect in your natural light but if anyone looked very deep, they would clearly realize something was wrong.

and the something that was wrong?

eddie munson.

he had been terrorizing you since your freshman year and never failed to make you feel worse about yourself.

he would push you, trip you, make you cry if it meant that you would get upset.

you had tried everything to get him to leave you alone but he never seems to quit, you disliked him in every way.

you didn't find a single thing to like about him.

but back to reality,

"y/n!" your friend, chrissy cunningham, coming over to you with a smile.

"chrissy!" you smiled at her as chrissy walked along side of you.

"okay so here me out, i got jason's friend who's name is jack who would love to go on a date with you." she squeaked.

you sighed, "chrissy, i do not need that at the moment."

she frowned, "it's our final year and you still refuse to go on a date with any of the guys."

you rolled your eyes, "they are all tools that don't deserve all this." you did a little turn, showing off your figure, bumping into someone.

"oh im so-" you looked up to see the man you hated the most but also feared, "i'm really sorry eddie." you apologized, not wanting any punishment.

he smirked, passing by you without saying anything, "what was that?" chrissy asked, smiling.

"nothing, just an accident." you gave an innocent smile but little did chrissy know, it goes farther than that.

the bell rang as you went to sit down in front of eddie as you always did.

"hi slut." eddie whispered in your ear, causing shivers down your back as you ignored him, "don't ignore me, you will only make it worse on yourself."

"what do you want eddie?" you sighed, still facing forward.

"what's with the attitude, you act as if i can't say hi these days, i'm quite hurt y/n." he fake frowned.

you grew visibly annoyed, "i don't wanna play your games eddie."

he smirked, "whatever princess wants."

you looked confused as to why eddie is leaving you alone but you consider it luck today.

the teacher called you up to write an equation which you do with ease. as you headed back to your seat, eddie had a huge smile on his face, it was dark. you knew he was up to something but you couldn't place your finger on it.

the bell rang as you packed up your textbooks and stood, going as you tripped over eddie's leg which was purposely put out.

you didn't even wanna entertain him so you continued exiting the classroom.

you heard him chasing after you, "y/n!"

you quickly exited the classroom, ready to go to lunch as he gripped your hand painfully, "let go of me." you looked at him angrily.

"have you forgotten who the fuck you are talking to?" he whispered in your ear angrily.

you scoffed at his cockiness, "i don't talk to man-children who play a child's game." you took back your hand, "but maybe i'll talk to you with respect when you stop hanging out with freshman, you fucking freak." you spat at him, "i would also recommend getting out of highschool before you get over the legal drinking age, asshole."

you had never seen him so angry but you were sick of the abuse, you exited the classroom to walk with your cheer friends.

you were glad that it was a friday so you would be prepared for the repercussions of your actions.

after you walked with your cheer friends, you waved goodbye, heading home.

thankfully the walk was only five minutes and took you no time. you were glad to head home because you kept feeling anxious going home as if someone was following you.

nobody was home due to your parents being on an anniversary trip that they would be back from tomorrow but you just wanted to go straight to sleep anyways.

after eating leftovers, you dressed into pajama shorts and a tanktop, going to sleep.

you were suddenly awoken to your bottoms being pulled off aggressively as you gasped to see eddie, "what the fuck are you doing! get out!" you kicked him but he only restrained you further.

this is when you started to cry, "get off of me!" you tried using your nails to scratch him.

that's when he slapped you, "don't fucking move." he aggressively said, pulling out a knife.

tears were streaming down your face as you stopped moving, scared to death.

he started rubbing your exposed clit, "you fucking insult me and think you are gonna get away with that shit, you stupid fucking bitch." he spat.

he completely ripped of your bottoms now causing you to cry harder, "i'm sorry!" you pleaded with him but you knew he wouldn't listen.

he started unbuckling his belt as you tried crawling across the bed to go but he grabbed onto your legs, "you really are fucking stubborn."

he turned you over so that your legs were spread as he went in between you and positioned himself in the middle of you, choking you.

"i should've killed you for what you said today but i should fuck the disrespect out of you instead." he whispered, letting go of you as you gasped for air as he cut your tanktop, revealing your breasts.

he stroked himself lightly, lining up with your entrance before pushing himself inside.

you gasped at the pressure, he was stretching you out completely. he started sucking on your nipples as the pleasure hit you harder than ever.

"perfect fucking tits." he bit on your nipple a little bit, making you moan.

he squeezed onto your tit as he sucked on other one, rocking into you.

he pounded into you harder, using his thumb to circle your clit, "so fucking wet and you try to act as if you don't like it." he groaned into your ear as you moaned.

"eddie please, gentle." you begged as the sounds to skin slapping against eachother and moans filled your ears.

"your cunt was made for me, holy shit." he fucked you harder.

at this point, tears were rapidly streaming down your cheeks by the pleasure, "i'm coming." you moaned.

"then do it, you dirty slut." his voice making you come harder.

"fuck." eddie moaned, pulling out of you and coming onto your sheets as your eyes closed.

he couldn't wait to punish you again.

[strangersteddierthings]

What's Eight Plus Seven?

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five

Pizza order successfully placed, Steve dials Robin's number next. He doesn't need to talk long, just... hear her voice. Maybe get some verbal support.

"Buckley residence."

"Thank God it's you," Steve sighs in relief to hear Robin's voice on the other end. There was a little bit of dread that her mom might have answered and then he'd be stuck on the phone while she tried to chat with him.

"Whoa. Was hosting the nerdfest that bad?" Robin asks, laughter in her voice.

"Uhh," Steve starts, because he's eloquent like that.

"Oh no. Was is that bad? What happened?"

He feels a flood of warmth for Robin's immediate concern. "No, no, nerdfest was fine. I, uhh, mostly I'm calling because Eddie and I are gonna, like, hang out and talk and I just- I dunno. Wanted to hear your voice, first."

"Oh. Really? Well. Here's my voice. This is you hearing it."

He laughs at that. "Thanks. It's just, I think it's gonna be, like, a bathroom floor kind of conversation, except in my living room on a couch."

"Oh! I can be there in ten if you need me."

"Nah. This is just- me needing to hear your voice, and also a warning that I might have to crawl through your window and fall apart on your bed later. Just don't know how this is going to go."

"I'm here if you need me. Are you going to talk about Freshman First Day?"

"We, uhh, already did. Mostly. There's been apologies and now we're gonna talk. Get to know each other. Play 20 questions, I guess."

Robin laughs at that. "Alright. Ask him if he's ever going to get me the sandwich he owes me from back in November."

"What?"

"You know, his whole cafeteria speech thing? Stepped right on my ham and cheese. It did make him slip and almost brain himself, and he did apologize. Told me he owed me a new sandwich. I never got it. Ask for me."

"We'll see. Okay, I'm going to go but, thank you. Love you."

"Love you, too. Window will be ajar."

Steve hangs up, then opens the fridge. He debates grabbing them beers but opts for soda. Back in the living room Steve finds Eddie sitting like a normal person on the couch, one leg bouncing relentlessly. Even with his superficial knowledge of Eddie, he can tell he's nervous. Not nervous Eddie would be perched on the back of his couch, ruining the cushions with whatever junk is on the bottom of his shoes. Probably.

"Soda?" Steve offers, plopping himself on the other end of the couch, hand outstretched for Eddie to take the beverage.

"Thanks." The bouncing of Eddie's leg pauses for a moment while he's opening and chugging half the can in one swift motion, then the bouncing starts again.

"Hey, man, relax. You didn't seem nearly as nervous when you were trying to sneakily hang out earlier."

Eddie lets out a big sigh. "Yeah, well, I didn't know you hated me then."

"I don't hate you."

"Oh, shit, no. Not what- I meant, like, past tense. Hated as in, used to hate. Not present tense."

"Ah. Well, I don't think I 'hated as in used to hate' past, like, three months into my freshman year. This is going to be the most self-absorbed shit ever, but, like, once I became popular, I couldn't be bothered to hate you. Didn't have the time to put towards that."

"Oh, of that I've no doubt. That was absolutely the read everyone who tried to interact with you got."

Steve ducks his head to hide his own embarrassment by fiddling with the can in his hands. "I thought you wanted to do, like, 20 questions or something."

"Oh. Serious? You'll do it?"

"Yeah."

"Right then. What even are the rules for 20 questions? Is it 20 questions each, or in total asked?"

"I dunno, man. I don't think people actually keep track. I think we just ask questions until we're done with talking. I guess the rules are don't lie, and if you don't want to answer a question, then don't. Pass on it, or whatever."

Eddie nods but he's still nervous, leg still bouncing. A look on his face so close to fear it makes Steve ache a little. He knows too well what far looks like on Eddie, experienced a week's worth of it.

Steve can start. Ease them into this. "Do you got a favorite color?"

Eddie shifts then. Turns sideways on the couch to lean against the armrest and face him. "Wait. One more rule. No mocking answers. You may laugh once at an answer."

"If you are about to tell me it's hot pink, I cannot follow that rule."

"It's not hot pink. Jesus. It's, uhh, brown, actually," Eddie says, rolling his can between his hands. "It used to be red but. I dunno. When I think of red, now, I think of the sky in the upside down and how that was almost the last thing I ever saw. I think of blood, and bleeding out."

And here he thought he was easing them into this with the most basic of questions. Eddie's already being vulnerable. "Follow up question, if you'll allow it. Why brown?"

"What's wrong with brown?"

"Nothing. Just thought you'd pick black or something," Steve gestures to all of Eddie.

At that, Eddie looks down at his mostly black outfit, the only part of it with any color is the DIO album art on his shirt, then back up. "Fair point. I guess brown just makes me think of home. The wooden porch, the paneling, brown dirt road that leads to the trailer. It's also, like, a good eye color. Exhibit A," He waves his hand in front of his face, batting his eyes exaggeratedly. It pulls a laugh from Steve.

"I can't argue that," Steve waves towards his face, where his own eyes have been described by many a girl as ranging from hazel to honey, but Steve just thinks of them as brown. "Your turn, man."

"You, tragically, had never heard of Ozzy before we met. What's your music of choice, and why is it the Top 40?"

"Like everybody didn't hear you singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody last week when it came on the radio at the Byers' Barbecue-"

"Whitney is a national treasure and I will not be slandered for knowing the words to any of her songs."

"Yeah, yeah. I guess it was just the Top 40, but really I don't have a preference. I just let other people pick the music. And, uhh, with the multiple concussions I don't listen to as much music as I used to. The migraines are brutal. It's never the music that brings on the migraine but like, it never helps, y'know?"

Eddie is nodding. "I do know. Like when you get sick and vomit, you avoid the last thing you ate, even when it turns out to be the flu and not food poisoning. Like, you know it wasn't the mango milkshake that made you throw up, but you avoid the mango flavor anyway."

There's definitely a full story in that somewhere. Maybe Steve will ask about it later. "Kinda? I don't avoid music but I don't think I've put a record or cassette in the player in months. Anyway, my turn. How'd you learn to play the guitar?"

"Wayne. He started teaching me before I live with him. Just a few chords when we'd visit every so often when I was little. Really got to learn after he took me in. I was eleven, if memory serves."

"Am I allowed to ask about your parents?" Steve interrupts.

"Yeah. Speaking of parents," Eddie's nervous again, bouncing his leg.

"It's your turn. Ask."

"I know the high school reputation. Big house, no parents. I might have even snuck over a few times to sale here when I knew a party was happening. Rich kids will pay whatever price you name, y'know? So, guess the actual question is, what's the deal there, with your parents?"

Steve would laugh except he has no memory of ever seeing Eddie at his house prior to all the fuckery that's gone down. He was too in his own head to bother with other people back then. And the real kicker? He probably bought from Eddie, at his own house, with his supposed grudge and all. God, he was such a dick. "Yeah. Lots of business trips, for them. The used to ship me off to spend a month with my grandparents when I was little, so they could take those trips. Guess once I was old enough to watch after myself, those trips started to happen whenever, instead of just over summer."

"What, they left you here alone as a kid? Even during the school year?"

Eddie sounds so scandalized it'd be funny if it wasn't so sad. Steve says, "I wouldn't say kid. I was fourteen, so, like, a teenager. But, yeah, gone a lot. More and more with each passing year. I mean, they've been back, but like, for a day or two. Mom switching out what jewelry she wanted and dad bit by bit emptying his office." He pauses with a frown, remembering now the last time he did see his parents face to face. "It was about halfway through senior year. The last time they were here. They didn't even come to my graduation."

Eddie sucks in a breath and Steve can visibly see him hold back some choice words.

"Anyway, long sob story short, I'm still just a rich kid with absent parents. They don't charge me rent or anything, but I pay to keep the lights on."

"That just adds so many more questions to my list."

"Well, it's my turn now, so. What got you into Dungeons and Dragons?"

Eddie looks surprised, and then guilty. "I've always liked fantasy. And, uhh, my Freshman First Day, the DnD booth was set up in the cafeteria, an okayish looking dragon drawn on the poster taped to the booth's edge. And, uh, I approached..."

"No one told you to fuck off?"

"I didn't tell you to fuck off."

"Might've hurt less if you had," Steve hadn't even meant that to be insulting, or insinuating, but it doesn't land. He'd been aiming for teasing and missed the mark, given the way Eddie jerks back, like he's trying to put more distance between them. "Oh, shit, Eddie, I didn't mean- I was-"

The doorbell rings out and both jump, turning to the front door like it might bite them. The bell chimes again, and it's then Steve remembers he ordered pizza. Wordlessly Steve gets up and deals with that. Pays for the pizza and gives a tip, stops in the kitchen long enough to grab some napkins, then folds himself back onto the couch, placing the pizza box on the cushions between them.

The time away from the couch, less than three minutes in total, Steve thinks, was enough to calm Eddie again, since he starts the teasing, "greasy pizza box directly onto the cushions! That'll never come out you know."

Steve shrugs and grins, flipping the box open to grab a pizza slice. "That's a problem for Future Steve."

Eddie grabs his own slice, and they just eat their first slices in silence before Steve breaks that, "I really wasn't trying to- earlier, I was trying to joke. About Freshman First Day. Not, uh, not like, pick a fight. So, if you still want to talk, I think it's your turn to ask a question. Any question. A big question."

"Alright. A big one. Who is Christopher?"

"Okay. Uh, just, give me a moment. I'll answer and I'm gonna be real honest right now with you, so just let me get through this, ok?"

Eddie nods, reaching for a second slice of pizza.

Steve gathers his thoughts, and speaks. "Christopher was my cousin. His family lives in Washington, so I don't see them much. You know that 'shipped off to the grandparents' thing I told you about earlier? Christopher, and his younger siblings, Amber and Robert, also came out to visit.

"I think my grandparents loved to have us all there. My cousins were there for family time, and I was there to just... not be in my parent's way, I think, but the reason why doesn't matter. The important bit. Christopher was two years older than me, and I thought he was the coolest person in the world. I wanted to be just like him. That last summer we spent together, he told me all about the game of Dungeons and Dragons he'd played with his club at school.

"It made me want to play. I was a kid who loved fantasy, too. I had to pretend to leave that behind when I got into middle school; too afraid of disappointing my dad for still liking make believe. I didn't know at the time that making him proud was just something I'd never achieve.

"Anyway, Christopher introduced me to the game, told me the entire campaign they'd run at his school, and then sent me those books. He's the reason I was at the booth that day. If Christopher could play sports and be a nerd, maybe I could, too? But, uh, that didn't go how I planned in my head. And, then. Then," Steve stops here, a knot in his throat but his eyes dry. It's not that he doesn't still mourn the loss of Christopher, it's just that the tears have dried up long ago. "Christopher committed suicide, that year. Halfway through the school year. I think... I think even if I had joined your club, if you had let me take that flier, I would have dropped out after the funeral. I'd wanted to join so bad so that Christopher would be proud of me."

The room has lost focus, now. Steve is staring forward but he doesn't really see Eddie anymore. It's like he's fallen into his thoughts and nothing else exists anymore. "It's a bit fucked up, but being older than me, I think I looked for approval in him that I didn't find in my dad, or maybe I wanted to be him because his parents were so proud of everything he did and I wanted that. Approval. I- it's- I think I used to confuse the two. Approval and love. Maybe I still do? I dunno.

"I guess I just wrapped all that up, the need for approval, Christopher's suicide, my love for fantasy, and shoved it in the same bottle deep down that I kept my anger at you in," Steve blinks himself back into the present. Takes in Eddie's face, a mix of sad and fond, like he wants to wrap Steve in a hug. Steve would probably let him. "That wasn't fair to you. I'm sorry."

Eddie shakes his head no. "You don't have to apologize to me, Stevie. I get it. You wore your jockness that same way I wear The Freak. Like armor. You weren't wrong, earlier, when you said we were dumb kids who learned to lash out and hurt first, so we couldn't be hurt. I was fucking, no, I am still like that. I mean, I just lashed back out at you when all you did was point out how I'd acted to you."

"Yeah, well, life gives everyone a shit hand sometimes. I used to capitalize on that. Kick people when they were down. It's- it's humbling and, like, awful, to unpack that. I know I'm still working on it, but I didn't have to do it alone. Robin and Dustin have been there for me. Great. They call me on my bullshit and it's easier to take then, hearing it from people I know who care about me."

"Guess I better ask find someone to call me out then."

"Haven't you already?" Steve asks, gesturing to himself.

Eddie barks a laugh. "I- yeah, I guess. You sayin' you care, Harrington?"

"Of course I do, man. We wouldn't be doing this -talking about deep shit and getting pizza grease all over my couch- if I didn't."

He watches Eddie turn red, and hide behind his hair. "Could just be doing it for the kids."

"I could. Guess you'll have to trust I'm not. That I also want a do over."

Eddie shoots him a big smile, dimples on full display, and Steve's happy to let go of his grudge if it means Eddie will smile at him like that more.

-

((Looks like there's going to be one more part. Thought this would be the last one but the boys wouldn't cooperate so next part.))

[buryustogether]

plssss viktor vektor smut, maybe after female v got injured and had to be rushed to him?

mr doctor man

viktor vektor x f!reader (v)

wc: 5.2k

summary: an argument with your ripperdoc/friend with benefits leads to a distraction during an important street fight. luckily, he’s not going to hold it against you.

warnings/tags: friends with benefits, allusions to sex and hook ups, swearing, blood, reader gets the absolute shit beat out of them, fighting, angst, vomiting, gun violence, love confessions, allusions to smut

author’s note: ask and ye shall receive

partially inspired by mr doctor man by palaye royale

“ mr doctor man

questions his hands

lost his mind

clinically fine ”

Viktor was sure he was out of his mind.

When he’d become a ripperdoc, he did so with one goal, one job, in mind; helping the injured, making sure everyone in this city had a fair chance at facing whatever was waiting out there for them. He was supposed to protect his patients, make sure they were fit and safe from the very things he installed deep within their muscles and memories.

He was supposed to take care of his patients, not fuck them into oblivion.

You couldn’t help but admire the raised red scratches your nails had inflicted upon Viktor’s back as he sat tinkering with the new piece of chrome he was about to put into your open forearm. Sweat was still in the process of drying on the back of your neck, cooled by the hum of conditioning that eased out of the grates overhead. Sure, you’d come in this afternoon to grab some new tech - but you could have done that over in Kabuki. Corpo Plaza. Arroyo. Anywhere you passed on your way here. But those clinics didn’t have Vik, didn’t have the glint of his glasses when he glanced your way, didn’t have the ‘tats inked into his arm that you held onto for dear life when he was railing into you hard enough to make you see stars.

No, this was your favorite clinic by far. And it wasn’t just because you lived only five minutes away.

“So tell me, kid,” said Viktor as he gingerly placed the reinforced piece of chrome into the meat of your arm. You held your breath at the strange sensation as his expert hands slowly adjusted the metal. “You’ve never exactly expressed interest in physical combat gear. Thought you were more of a gun steel gray kind of girl.”

He talked to you like you weren’t a thing, like you weren’t a couple.

Because you weren’t. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you didn’t know exactly what you were. You’d been friends, of course, when Jackie had first brought you in with him to get his nose popped back into place after a bar fight tilted away from him. You would come over in the evenings with dinner after he closed the clinic and watch fights. You would help clean up when he needed the extra hands. And when friendly banter turned more and more flirtatious, you hadn’t been obliged to stop it.

When slaps on the shoulders turned into kisses, and those turned into finger fucks, and those turned into full-on poundings on his table or against the wall, you hadn’t protested one bit. You wanted there to be something more to it all, wanted him to think about you the same way you did him - when you were alone eating breakfast by yourself, when you were driving across town, when you were in bed at night, anywhere and everywhere all at once.

But you’d never said a word of it.

You didn’t want to cross a line you knew you couldn’t see, take whatever this was one step too far and lose one of your best friends. So you left everything where it was - don’t fix what’s not broken, right? Don’t meddle with things doing just fine on their own, right?

So you kept your mouth shut and your legs open.

“Oh, yeah,” you said and stared up at the ceiling above your head. Across the room, the low sounds of a match beginning to start murmured from the television. “I’ve got a fight in Heywood coming up in a couple of days. Guy’s known for being built like ‘Saka Tower, so I figured I’d steel myself up before going to get my ass handed to me.”

You expected Viktor to smile, for him to chuckle and for his bare abs to tense up like they did when he found something amusing. But he didn’t. Instead the corners of his mouth tilted downward as he pulled the machine that would hotwire your skin back together over to the table. “What’s this guy’s name?” he asked offhandedly.

His sudden change in tone irked you slightly. “I don’t know. Heard he goes by Decard. Big in the Badlands, apparently, and he came into town looking for competition that wasn’t walking on four legs or eating after the four-legs.”

“Hmm.”

Pursing your lips awkwardly, you drummed your fingers on your bare sternum - you were both still in the bare minimum after your little late afternoon romp - and pulled your focus back overhead. You took a breath and pushed it out. “Got a problem with me fighting or something?”

Viktor looked up at you over the rims of his glasses - fuck, that steely gray of his irises were something else - and fixed you with a warning stare. “Don’t bring your attitude now, kid,” he said and rotated the machine patching you up. Even as the conversation was going south, he was still intent on giving you the best treatment he was capable of.

“Well, I mean - sorry, but it suddenly seems like you’d rather be literally anywhere else than here.”

“I will be, if you keep running your tongue like that.”

Your stare turned into a glare as you looked up at the ceiling above your head. What the fuck was this? You and Viktor hardly ever fought - and if you did, it was over who was going to win the match you were streaming. Fuck all, you just sucked his dick until he whimpered, and now he was giving you some weird kind of cold shoulder?

You waited until the machine had done its job and your arm was back together before shoving off the table and gathering your clothes that had been scattered across the clinic floor. You could feel him - sitting in just his pants on his stool - watching your movements like a hawk. “You know what,” you said, bristling as you tugged your clothes back on, “if you’re going to go full blown hermit on me out of the blue for no fucking reason at all, I have no reason to be here.” You angrily yanked your shoes over your feet, not bothering to tie the laces. “Don’t bother showing up to the fight. I’ll have Jackie there if I get my spleen shot out.”

“Didn’t know there was an extended invite,” Viktor said as he pushed away from the table on his stool and rolled over to his desk.

“There would have been if your stage four terminal dickery hadn’t ruined the party.” Snatching up your holsters from his side table, you stopped for a moment while you clasped them over yourself. “What was that, anyway? What’s your deal? One minute we’re hot and heavy, and the next you’re acting like you want to be rid of me.”

Viktor rolled his eyes - you saw it in the reflection of the dirty mirror hung opposite his desk. He picked up that damned screwdriver he was always tinkering with and began to adjust the calibrations of his mechanical fingers. “Maybe if you got your head out of your ass for once, V, you’d see that it’s just the opposite. I don’t think you should be sticking your neck out more than you already do for a couple extra eddies. You and Jack already run around pulling enough shit. Street fighting when you should be resting isn’t exactly the move you’d pull if you’re playing with a full deck of cards.”

Fuck, he was good. He could roll five different insults into one and make it sound like he was actually worried about you.

“I’m sorry,” you said and cocked your head at him pointedly, “this coming from one of Night City’s greatest ring fighters?”

He shook his head in that way he did when he was getting ready to put something to rest - an argument, an idea, a patient… It made something in your gut twist. It made you feel small and childish - like you both knew he was right about this. Like he was talking to a little girl who refused to give up the fight just for the sake of fighting. “You’re stubborn, kid, and that’s a good thing most of the time. I’m not going to tell you what you can or can’t do. Go on. Kick some ass and prove me wrong.” He paused his tinkering for just a moment, and you thought he was going to rise and kiss you goodbye like he always did - but he just turned up the volume on the television. “I’ll be here either way.”

Overwhelmed with that sickening, roiling feeling in your belly, you threw up a hand and stalked toward the gates of the clinic. “Whatever, old man.”

As you stormed up the stairs leading into the alleyway between Viktor’s clinic and Misty’s shop, a coil of guilt turned itself about in the hollows of your chest. Maybe he was right - about your head being stuck up your ass. Your entire life you’d been fighting for your fair share in this city, being raised in the shadows of those who proved themselves time and time again to be bigger than you. From the time you knew how to properly hold a gun and throw a punch and speak your mind, you hadn’t let anything stop you - which hadn’t always been a good thing. A couple broken bones and black eyes had taught you that much.

But fighting - whether it was for your life or not - was all you knew. Arguing, and challenging, and defying… it felt as if it were in your blood like part of your DNA. The feeling of desperate survival never went away, no matter how much money you had or how full your belly was. Once it was there, it never went away.

This was what you told yourself two evenings later, when the stars and the moon were blocked out by the smog and the nighttime air was disrupted by thumping music and excited shouts and the wails of sirens in the distance. It was what you told yourself when you popped out the cricks in your neck and accepted pats on the back from those who had bet their monthly rents on you. And yet despite the fight about to happen in a few minutes’ time, despite the dozens of people surrounding the basketball court where it was to take place, your mind was stuck back in the clinic. Your ears still rang with the words both you and Viktor had hissed, your chest still stung with the venom laced between breaths. He had not called you, despite having a little get-together-date-night-come-over-and-let’s-fool-around-thing set up for last night. You had not called him, despite desperately needing encouragement for this fight, because you had caught a glimpse of Decard, and you’d almost choked on your own spit.

“Aye, V,” said a voice in your ear, and you were pulled back to the sidelines of the basketball court, where a crowd had gathered to watch the smackdown. You looked up at Jackie when he clasped your shoulder in a tight grip, forcing your attention up to his face. “You doin’ okay, choom? You nervous?”

Swallowing thick, you furrowed your brows and waved a feeble hand. Your knuckles had already been wrapped in bandages - something Viktor usually did before your fights, because he knew the best ways to keep them tight when you threw your punches. You had wrapped them yourself, and they were already falling loose. “M’fine,” you answered over the radio blaring across the lot. “Just… mind’s somewhere else.”

There came a look across Jackie’s face that told you he already knew exactly what you were talking about. You didn’t want to think about how he did. “Listen,” he said and grasped your other shoulder. “Worry all you want after, chica, but when you’re out there?” He used his knuckle to shove your chin in the direction of the court, where the fixer who had arranged the fight was arguing over bets with a corpo. “Your mind’s got’ta be out there, too. Otherwise you’re goin’ to get your ass handed to you and your brain won’t catch up ‘til you’re hurtin’ tomorrow.” When you looked back at him, mouth stretched into a taut line, his gaze softened a bit. He jostled you. “These kind’a things don’t last forever, choom. Trust me - Misty’s been on my ass enough times that she knows it better than I do, and we always come around. Just… let it go for a few minutes, yeah?”

Steeling your heart and sharpening your expression, you nodded your head slightly and took a breath. Just for a few minutes. Nothing but left hooks and dodges and roundhouses for just a few minutes. “Okay,” you said and shook yourself out. “Okay.”

“Atta’ girl.” Jackie clapped your hand in his own, then spun you around and shoved you in the direction of the court. “Now go and kick some ass. Drinks on you at the Afterlife to celebrate your victory, aye?”

Rounds of both cheers and taunts followed you as you walked onto the court to meet the fixer and your competition. Upon facing your opponent, you found your neck craning up. And up. And still up. Decard was fitted with an entire body of chrome and tech, more cyber than human in every sense of the word. Nearly seven feet tall. Fists of collapsable nanotech. Cybernetic eyes pixelated red that made his pupils look as though they were bleeding from the inside out. You’d be lying if you told yourself he didn’t intimidate you to the point that if you weren’t being watched by hundreds of eyes, you’d probably have pissed yourself just a little bit.

“Alright, people,” said the fixer as he tallied up a number of bets. A quick glance at the pad in his hand told you that the onlookers’ faith lay more at Decard’s steel-toed feet than yours. “Please don’t turn this into a crime scene. I’m already on a watchlist for these kinds of things, so let’s keep this quick and clean. Hopefully I don’t have to tell you both that no cybernetic advancements are allowed. Gorilla arms, thermal knuckles, mantis blades, the whole shebang. No killing - perioud. ‘Kay?”

“Sure,” you said.

Decard growled from low in his throat.

Once the fixer had left the court and motioned for the pair of you to get ready, you took a moment to assess your opponent. As you dug your toes into the dirty tarmac, you looked him over. His head, of course, was an option, throat exposed over the collar of his tank top. But you doubted you’d have much time to grab at it, even if you got past those mechanical arms of his. You were scrambling to find a weak spot, to find some way this didn’t end in you limping away with a broken arm and a shattered ego, when your gaze shifted slightly behind him and into the crowd after catching a subtle glare of glass.

Fuck - he’d shown up. There he was, standing with crossed arms and a wide stance amongst the young onlookers streaming on their phones and squealing with excitement. Viktor met your eyes across the distance.

Then an earth-shaking, rib-crushing blow landed to your sternum, sending you tumbling over yourself in a heap of flailing limbs to the feet of the crowd. Pain like thunder blossoming violently across the sky expanded from your chest where Decard struck you, but you weren’t given much time to process what had just happened before the crowd was pulling you to your feet and pushing you back onto the court.

You had barely regained your breath before Decard came charging at you, steel teeth bared like some kind of animal as he barreled in your direction. Turning on your heel, you just barely managed to miss him - then took a running leap up onto his back and sat yourself on his hulking shoulders. The crowd erupted in surprise. Clenching your jaw and fighting with everything you had to stay on top of him while he bucked and pulled at your legs with a grip that would surely leave bruises in their wake, you locked an arm around his neck and began to squeeze. It wouldn’t take more than maybe twenty seconds for him to start getting lightheaded, even with all those implants. Maybe fifteen if you were lucky.

But it turned out you weren’t lucky. Very, very, very unlucky, in fact.

Decard backed up across the court as you tried to choke him out, heading straight for the rusted old hoop on a metal pole that creaked when a breeze blew it the wrong way. With a great roar and a heave, he slammed you back into the pole. Howling, searing, thundering pain overtook you, spreading from your spine to your shoulder blades to your hips, all throughout every nerve ending and fiber inside of you. Your vision whited out for just a moment as you slipped off the man’s shoulders and dropped to the warm tarmac. Goddammit, that hurt. That hurt like a bitch. That hurt like your vertebrae had cracked and one wrong move would put you six feet under.

With a low groan that you felt echoing in your very bones, you slowly propped yourself up on an elbow. You coughed and spat out a bit of saliva mixed with blood that pooled from where you’d bitten your tongue after being slammed into the pole. You knew after a blow like that you wouldn't be able to finish. As much as you fucking hated it, you were going to have to forfeit. All those cameras on you, all those eyes and bets… all fucking wasted.

And Viktor… fuck, he wouldn’t ever let you hear the end of this. If he spoke to you again outside of emergency clinic visits and checkups.

Sucking in a shallow breath, you stretched out a hand and patted the ground once, twice, three times. Those who saw it groaned at the fight having been so short. Eddies were being passed around, deposited into accounts as you began to make your way to your feet to slink off the court with your tail between your legs. But you didn’t quite make it.

Before you could find your footing, Decard’s large cybernetic hand snatched up the vulnerable skin of your throat and lifted you off the court into the air. Panic flooded your systems as your eyes widened and you gasped, trying to pull in air around the blockage on your neck. A few people cheered, thinking the fight was still on. No matter how much you kicked and flailed, they didn’t seem to get the hint that you had forfeited. You didn’t want to fight anymore.

They said you don’t always get what you want.

“Some shitshow for a merc I’ve heard so much fuss about,” Decard said, just inches from your face as he lifted you closer to him. Up close, you were able to see his cybernetic gaze flashing back and forth between your suddenly terrified eyes. “I was hoping I’d get a run for my money.”

You gasped around his iron-knuckled grip, uselessly kicking your feet against his chest plates. “M’done!” you wheezed out, listening to your heart pound wildly in your ears. “Y’win! Let me go!”

Decard grinned a sickening smile and brought his lips to the shell of your ear, so close you swore you felt his tongue brush against your lobe. “Come on and show me what you’re really made of, mercenary.” Then he turned and threw you across the court, sending you sprawling over yourself for the second time that evening. Another roar went up from the crowd as the cameras began filming again and new bets were placed.

Vision hazy and your spine screaming in protest, you scrambled out of the way just in time to miss Decard’s boot cracking the concrete where you just lay half a moment ago. You weren’t lucky enough to evade his next blow, a backhand that had you careening to the ground once more. Smack after punch, blow after kick, you were slowly losing the ability to raise your arms to even cover your face as he followed your pathetic little parade around the court.

The crowd seemed to be loving your beatdown. They cheered for more, for you to just give up, not knowing that you already had.

Upon coming to rest on your aching back from a roundhouse that had knocked you off your feet, you tilted your bloodied and bruised face to catch a glimpse of two figures arguing violently with the fixer who organized the whole event. Through the blur twinging the edges of your vision, you recognized Viktor and Jackie practically screaming at the man, gesturing wildly back and forth between you and the man approaching to possibly finish you off. Without your permission, your vision screen kicked in to read their lips and translate what they were saying.

“He’s fuckin’ killing her, idiota!” Jackie said and raised a hand to your form cowering on the ground.

“She tapped out fair and square,” snarled Viktor and poked a mechanical finger in the fixer’s chest. “Call it off before it goes any further.”

The fixer raised his hands in defense, shrugging a shoulder to prove his point. “Listen, chooms, just because you lost your bets doesn’t mean you’ve got to take it up with me.”

“She forfeited!” Viktor said. “Everyone with their eyes in their head saw her call for mercy.”

The fixer grinned sadistically. “I didn’t see anything.”

Snapping back to the court, you raised your gaze to the tall, sinewy mass of a man who towered over you with a heaving chest and a sick emotion of satisfaction sitting upon his stupid fat lips. For the second time, he raised you into the air by your throat and held you up like a trophy for all to see. You didn’t have the energy to fight back this time, couldn’t even if you thought it would do something. You simply gasped for air and gripped his forearm, hoping you’d black out sooner than later so you wouldn’t have to keep enduring this torture.

“Too bad no one’s going to remember your name,” Decard said to you over the noises of the onlookers. “V, was it?”

Through the blood spilling over your lips and the ache in every damn inch of your body, you snarled and spat, “Go fuck yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” he replied. “To the image of you begging for mercy like a fucking dog.”

The words had barely escaped his lips when a miracle graced the old basketball court. A deafening gunshot like a firecracker went off just feet from your ear and an instant later, you were dropped from being suspended in the air. Forcing yourself to look up from the dirt digging into your cheek, you watched as Viktor, now standing on the court before a kneeling Decard as he screamed and cradled the blown-apart junction of his knee, leveled his handgun with his opposite shoulder.

“Don’t bother showing your face to any ripper in this fucking city,” Viktor warned, then cracked off another bullet into Decard’s shoulder. The man howled over the sounds of the crowd stampeding for their vehicles and the streets, then collapsed in on himself. “They won’t have any mercy on you.”

It was the last thing you saw before you rolled onto your side and vomited, allowing yourself to fall into that everlasting darkness behind your eyelids.

The first thing that hit you when your senses returned was the faint smell of cleaning alcohol, the kind that docs used to sterilize equipment before they dug deep into your chest. The second thing was the familiar sound of a television playing the sounds of a boxing match; the ringing of the bell and the commentator’s voice would have lulled you back to sleep, had it not been for the ache that thrummed like fire beneath your skin all across your body. From your toes to your scalp it hurt, pulling a low moan from the back of your throat.

Your brow scrunched, you opened your eyes and blinked a few times before recognizing the ceiling overhead as the same one you had glared at while fighting with Viktor two days ago. You were in his clinic, propped up on the operating chair with an IV stuck in your arm and bandages wrapped around your torso. Your spine bitched at you as you sat up and swept your gaze across the clinic. Viktor was nowhere to be found.

Fuck, you wanted to go home. Go home and take the longest nap in the history of time. How long had it been since the fight - since you got your ass almost literally handed to you on the internet for thousands of people to see? Your vision screen told you it had been almost twelve hours.

With a grunt, you carefully pulled the IV from your arm and swung your legs over the side of the chair - only to crumple to the floor the moment you tried to stand on your own two feet. Just a few seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and you prayed it would be anyone except your doc. You couldn’t face him, not after he had to save your ass after telling you not to fight. Hell, you almost wished it would be Decard coming to finish you off.

But you recognized the bottoms of the shoes rushing toward you as Viktor’s, and you could do nothing but whimper and groan as he gingerly lifted you off the ground and back onto the chair.

“Jesus, kid,” he said as he carefully stuck the IV back into your skin. “Only just came to and you’re already trying to walk out like nothing happened.”

You said nothing as he sat back on his rolling stool beside you and brought up your vitals on his tablet. You couldn’t bare the thought of looking into those eyes of his as he chastised you for being so fucking stupid, for not heeding his advice. He probably thought you were an idiot, a naive kid so blinded by chasing glory she didn’t realize she was running straight into the sun.

But it seemed that Viktor didn’t get the this-is-supposed-to-be-awkward memo. “Hate to say it,” he said as he scrolled through his device, “but you had a close call, kid. Popped a vertebra out of place in your spine, fractured four of your ribs, dislocated a finger or two… I could go on, but I’d like to save time where I can. In other words, I’ve never had a patient come in quite as fucked up as you.”

“Gee, thanks.” You exhaled a painful breath, unable to push down the bubble forming in the bottom of your throat. Just when you thought you’d be able to ignore it, it ruptured. “Why don’t you just tell me off for being so stupid and send Misty to take me home?”

Viktor didn’t look at you. And that made you all the more furious. “I’m not doing this again, V,” he said and rolled away to deposit his tablet on his workbench. “Shut up and take a rest from it, will you? You’re fogging up the place with that hot head of yours.”

“In case you forgot,” you shot back, struggling to sit up straight in the curved operation chair, “you’re the one who started this shit. So don’t you try and pin it on me.”

He stood and remained there on his feet for a moment, hands placed firmly on his hips and nodding his head with pursed lips - like he was preparing himself to have this same spat again. A pang of guilt shot through you, but you beat it back.

“You know what?” he said and finally looked at you through his glasses. He threw out a hand and let it smack against his thigh. “Fine. I did start this. I’ll own that. But I only started it because - and this may come as a surprise to that thick skull of yours - but I actually care about you, kid. I do really give a shit if some shady bastard you decide to throw hands with over a few eddies manages to get the better of you and leave you bleeding out in a dumpster on the wrong side of Pacifica.” He ran his good hand through his hair - and over his temples, which were just beginning to show through his dark tresses with a few streaks of gray - and began to tread closer. “Maybe what we’ve got between us is a fun way to kick off a bit of stress for you, and I’ll keep myself in check if it is, but goddammit, V, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you got yourself gutted in a fucking streetfight!”

You realized he had gotten closer to your chair and raised his voice only when you flinched at his sudden outburst. He seemed to understand, too, just how close he had come, because he at once stood straight again and began to back off.

You reached out your hand and grabbed his wrist. “It’s not,” you found yourself whispering when he glanced at you over the rims of his glasses. You swallowed thick and forced the words up and out. “Just… just some outlet. I… I love you, Vik.” A wave of tears threatened to overtake your vision, turn your eyes watery and your voice wavering. “I know it doesn’t really seem like it a lot of the time, but I promise I do.”

There were a long, silent few moments in which neither of you moved. Neither of you spoke. You squeezed your eyes together, suddenly afraid you had gone too far. That’s what you always did. You either went so far the line wasn’t even a line anymore, or you fell short enough that you didn’t even know there was one to begin with. You started to release his wrist, feeling as though you had fucked up yet another one of the good things in your life, when you felt his fingers angling your chin up so that he could press his lips to yours.

It was just like the millions of other times he had kissed you, when you were both in a rush to get your clothes off and climb on top of the other, and yet it was different all at the same time. This kiss was deep and genuine, relieved and thrilled. Sweet. Loving. He tasted like a faint twinge of whiskey, and when you grabbed his shirt collar to pull him closer and he grunted, a fan of breath swept across you like a ghosting whisper.

When you finally pulled apart, Viktor rested his forehead against yours and gently kissed the slope of your nose. “You better rest up quick, kid,” he murmured against your lips. “Because when you do, I’m going to spread those legs of yours and show you just how much I fucking love you.”

[cam-ryt]

uh for the prompts... uh… obikin sharing first kiss after Ani is knighted, with bunnywan - Ani is weak for Obi's beard and also his lips … whatever you think you should throw into the mix lol (preferably if Ani resisted to jump the Tuskens qwq thanks to Obi wan being a bun bun - and is more cuddly and friendlier lol)

Sunday prompt day ☄️

Aaah it's late but it's still Sunday !! I had a crazy week so this one is a bit shorter than the others, I hope you'll still enjoy it 🫶🏻

______

Anakin’s knighting ceremony happens in a haze, motivated more by the shadow of the war and the need to have more confirmed Jedi than anything else. 

They’re five to be granted the title of Jedi Knight today and everything feels like it’s done in a hurry. Master Yoda and Master Windu are overseeing the ceremony, but despite the solemn vows and the discourses about the central place of the Jedi in the galaxy, Anakin can’t help but think that it’s a waste of time. 

His eyes search for his master in the small crowd gathered in the room. Obi-Wan is looking at him, arms crossed over his chest, and he smiles softly when their gaze meets. He looks proud. It sends a pleasant thrill into Anakin’s stomach. He can't wait to be alone with him for the rest of the ceremony. 

He doesn't really care about empty words and public displays of faith and obedience to the Order. He's not a Jedi, no matter what Master Yoda has to say about it. Not yet. Obi-Wan is the only one who can truly make him become one, and Anakin wouldn’t have it any other way. 

When the ceremony is finally over, he manages to skillfully avoid the other padawans, shows his express respects to Master Yoda and Master Windu and slips in beside his master. 

“Let’s get out of here.” He whispers pressingly, fingers brushing Obi-Wan’s wrist. 

For once, the older Jedi doesn't protest about wanting to talk to Master Yoda or greet each and every padawans for their new status. He just nods and follows Anakin outside, which is new and pretty unsettling but the young Jedi is too excited to care about it. 

Anakin takes a deep breath when they’re finally outside, perched on the small rooftop of the Jedi Temple. From there they have a 360° view of the labyrinth of buildings that is Coruscant. The day is slowly declining, painting the planet in hues of orange and yellow and Anakin takes a moment to admire the view. 

His body is buzzing with unspent energy and he feels like his head is going to explode with all the thoughts traveling through it right now. When he turns around, Obi-Wan is leaning against the balcony railing, arms crossed and once again looking at him. A familiar and comforting vision. 

He looks calm, his features devoid of any emotions but his eyes betray him. 

“So you want to do it here ?” He asks, and every atom in Anakin’s being starts shaking. 

“Yes, Master.” He replies, noticing that his voice sounds raw to his own ears. 

He’s been waiting for too long. 

“Come here, my dear padawan.” Obi-Wan asks softly, not moving an inch from where he’s leaning against the balcony. 

Anakin feels like his body is animated by his very own will, every muscle tensed, every cell drawn to the same direction like a compass. For some reason he’s a little out of breath when he stands before his Master. 

Obi-Wan’s clear eyes are shining in the falling twilight and Anakin feels a chill running down his spine. 

“I’m so proud of you, Anakin.” The older Jedi says, voice always so collected, parsecs away from how the young man is feeling. “I’m proud of how far you've come despite life never being easy on you.” 

“Master…” Anakin almost whines, taking a step closer and grabbing one of Obi-Wan sleeves to fidget with. 

He feels on edge, almost shaking. His heart races in his chest and he’s sure his Master can feel it. He can’t even shield his thoughts and feelings correctly. 

“You’ve been a great padawan.” Obi-Wan continues, ignoring the way Anakin clings to him a little more each passing minute. “Not the easiest one, but the most hard-working and talented I’ve ever seen. I’m honored I have been your Master.” 

“You will always be my Master.” Anakin replies a little bit too vehemently, which makes Obi-Wan smile. 

“Now you’re my equal, Anakin.” 

The young man thinks he’s going to faint when Obi-Wan raises his hand and brushes his fingers behind his right ear, gently grabbing the little braid hanging there, decorated over the years by colored threads. 

He slightly tugs at it and Anakin forgets how to breathe. 

“I have a gift for you.” Obi-Wan says. “But the tradition says you can ask me for something before I make a Jedi Knight out of you.” 

The way he says it makes Anakin’s throat go suddenly dry. He knows about that tradition and he knows exactly what he wants. But now that Obi-Wan asks him, it feels like every drop of courage has left his body. 

“I- um.” 

He runs his tongue on his dry lips and clears his throat. He’s not a stupid enamored teen anymore, he's a stupid enamored adult able to ask for what he wants. And he wants that for as long as he can remember. So why is it so hard ? 

“What do you want, Anakin ?” Obi-Wan asks softly, and as he asks he wraps his padawan’s braid around his fingers and pulls until their faces are so close they can feel each other’s breath.  

Anakin’s gaze flickers from Obi-Wan's eyes to his lips, already feeling weak in the knees. He wonders how they would taste covering his own. He's been daydreaming daily about how soft they looked, about how soft Obi-Wan looked overall when Anakin feels so rough in every aspect of his life.

“You.” He murmurs. “I want you.” 

Obi-Wan sighs and when Anakin thinks he’s going to laugh to his face and reject him, he wraps his other hand around his neck and pulls him into a kiss that makes the young Jedi's heart miss a beat or two. 

He’s never been kissed by anyone and there’s no one else he wants to put his lips on. He almost pinches himself to make sure this is real. But everything is real. Obi-Wan’s fingers caressing the back of his neck, tugging at his braid, his beard tickling his cheeks, the clean smell of his soap, the velvet of his lips, as perfect as he imagined.

Once he has overcome the shock, Anakin forces his body to react, to quit the freezing stage in which he’s stuck. He slowly cradles Obi-Wan’s face, brushing at his bearded cheeks and jaws, pressing his thumb on the curve of his lower lip, running his fingers through his carefully styled hair in wonder. 

“You’re so soft.” He whispers against his mouth, and Obi-Wan chuckles. 

Anakin presses his face in the crook of his neck, entangles his fingers in his bronze locks and tugs lightly to kiss the exposed skin. Obi-Wan makes a noise and Anakin lets go of his hair to wrap his arms around his waist, pulling him into a closer embrace. He doesn't know where to touch, where to begin, how to show his mountain of feelings. He's overwhelmed by the infinity of possibilities opening in front of him. 

“Why didn't you say something ?” He finally asks, snuggling as close as he can against his master’s chest and humming with contentment when he feels fingers carding gently through his curls. 

“Too dangerous.” Obi-Wan simply says. “I wanted you to be able to make a choice, not as my padawan but as my equal.” 

“So much time lost.” Anakin grumbles, but he swallows back his complaint when Obi-Wan lips place a trail of kisses against his throat.

He can't help but steal them once again, already addicted to their softness. He doesn’t know what he’s doing but he’s enthusiastic nonetheless, and they end up laughing more than kissing when Anakin keeps bumping their nose. 

“We should go see your mom, tell her you’re a Jedi now.” Obi-Wan says eventually, always the wiser. 

“Mm.” Anakin replies, comfortably cuddled up against him. “Five more minutes.” 

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes. 

“You always say that.” 

“You better get used to it.” Anakin grins and places a kiss on his soft beard, just because he can. 

"I guess I should." Obi-Wan sighs, but he can't hide the smile playing on his lips. "Oh, wait."

"Mh ?" Anakin raises an eyebrow and straightens up when he hears the familiar buzzing of Obi-Wan lightsaber being ignited. "Are you going to kill me now that I know your secret ?"

"What secret ?" Obi-Wan asks, focused on detangling Anakin's braid from his fingers in order to be able to finally cut it.

Anakin doesn't even flinch as the light blade approaches his face. He trusts Obi-Wan blindly.

"How you had a crush on your padawan during all those years." He smirks. "How embarrassing."

"Less embarrassing than him having a crush on me since what... Childhood ?" Obi-Wan counters back.

There's a light humming against Anakin's ear and suddenly there's a little braid hanging in front of his eyes.

"You're free." Obi-Wan smiles, but moves his hand away when Anakin tries to grab the braid. "No way. I'm keeping this."

"Weird, but okay." Anakin smirks, and then brushes at Obi-Wan's beard. "Then this is mine."

The older Jedi laughs and shrugs.

"Weird, but okay."

[fangirl-docintraining]

Okay trying out posting some headcannons about the Curtis gang (including Betty for my fic readers cause I’ve written 100k words and I do what I want)

So without further ado I give you: How airport traveling goes for the gang (modern AU)

Darry is peak stressed eldest child™️ at the airport. Soda and Ponyboy make fun of him for this relentlessly

However, the gang overall is absolute chaos, so his stress isn’t necessarily unwarranted

Soda is still packing 5 minutes before they’re supposed to leave for the airport and it drives Darry insane

Dally only brings a backpack. No suitcase. He brings like some random clothes and whatever he just tosses in the bag. Pretty sure he doesn’t even know what he’s packed

Darry parking the car is so much of a production for no reason, man is cursing every time he thinks he finds an open spot but it’s just a car that’s hidden

He parks in the far lot because they aren’t paying the $30 a day garage parking fee because wtf (honestly same) and they have to take the shuttle

When they actually are walking into the airport for their first plane trip with Betty coming along Two Bit takes pity and pulls her aside to warn her about Darry being a bit… high strung at the airport

They forget that she is an eldest daughter™️

They always try to fly an airline where you get a free checked bag with your ticket because these boys refuse to travel without their pocket knives and so they gotta have them in checked luggage.

The second they’re at the luggage counter and getting boarding passes Darry immediately takes all of them. He doesn’t trust a single one of them to be in charge of their own boarding pass. Betty snatches hers before he gets the chance to hold on to hers though.

The second their bags are checked behind the counter Betty turns into some insane drill Sargent and starts just marching towards security with or without them with her pink tote bag over her shoulder.

The duo that is Darry and Betty in the security line. They both are like barely holding on every time some random person holds up the line or slows things down.

Soda and Steve get in a full on wrestling match in line. They almost take Ponyboy down on accident cause he wasn’t paying attention

Speaking of Ponyboy not paying attention, his bag gets pulled by security and Darry just lets out the most long suffering sigh.

Ponyboy forgot he had a full water bottle in his bag. Everyone but Darry and Betty think it’s hilarious

Dally has to go through the metal detector like three times cause he keeps forgetting things on his person that will set it off. despite being told he’d need to take his belt off like eight times, he still didn’t the first time he tried to walk through.

Johnny somehow silently got through security five minutes before everyone else and like already has his shoes back on and everything and it just watching it all unfold

The boys all want to get food immediately after getting through security. Darry and Betty refuse to allow anyone to do so until they’ve visually confirmed that their gate does indeed exist

Two Bit disappears for like an hour and just comes back to the with a new pair of Bose headphones, an armful of snacks, and like four magazines

Steve and Soda bring a Switch and occupy themselves and most of the gang by playing games while they wait

Darry and Betty get in a full on fight because mans wants to just stand in line before they’ve even started boarding and she won’t let him. Sir you are in boarding group 4.

Eventually she says fuck it and lets him go stand there cause he gets so mad, so she simply leaves to go to Hudson news and get herself some candy.

Once boarding actually starts Darry makes them all line up early, he about pops a blood vessel because half of the guys immediately have to pee and leave for the bathroom

Betty very pointedly does not get up to come stand and wait in line with them until the group before theirs is almost done. Darry is convinced she’s gonna miss the flight despite the fact he can SEE her

Darry handing out boarding passes in this line and being like don’t you dare lose this. They have to walk approx 5 feet to the check in counter lmfao

Seats are duos as follows: Dally and Two Bit, Johnny and Pony, Soda and Steve, Darry and Betty.

Soda legit asks if they need to swap seats as they’re like in the aisle of the plane cause literally no one has seen the two of them fight this bad ever. They snap at everyone including each other over everything. Betty gets mad at how Darry puts his backpack into the overhead bin and he just softly bangs his forehead against it in exasperation

They second the they’re all sitting everyone’s convinced they’re gonna kill each other because the seats are tiny and there is no leg room or personal space

Betty simply takes the people magazine two bit bought (stole?) and opens her skittles as if she and Darry weren’t about to throttle each other thirty seconds prior

Darry passes out everyone’s snacks and then says no one speak to me for the next two hours.

Soda realized the two of them were meant to be when he looked over and saw that they both were currently glaring daggers at someone for arguing about seats and holding up the flight, they were sharing candy and just somehow sharing their mutual type A meltdown together

[star-dust-stuf]

Albert Shaw x fem!reader

title: I don't fall like this

warnings: slight misapplying

a/n: shut uuuuuup, I love this. sorry for typos, and yes before you ask I love him so badly. this has nothing to do with sex or abuse. listen to the song how to disappear by lana del rey. enjoy babes.

-

All I wanted to do was yell at my stepfather, he never gave me a break throughout the day. I just exited the house, barefoot and in my pajamas. He wanted me to get the mail but it was in a cluster mailbox down the street, passed some houses and near the next turn. I hated making the mail runs. 

I walked on the slightly cold concrete and I was enjoying a bit of the sun setting sky. It was about five pm, I had dinner and didn't have my shower yet. But as I was trying to make it to the mailbox, I saw a man, and older man come from his black van, he has a top hat on and dark sunglasses.

He stumbled and my heart almost stopped. His groceries went everywhere, cans of soups, eggs, celery and a box of rice. He grunted and chuckled a little, crouched down to the food he had dropped on the ground, speaking to himself as if he didn't even see me. "Isn't that just peachy keen.." 

I stutter, "d-would like some help?" 

He looked up at me, he gave another light chuckle he saw my bare feet and my entire appearanc. "Ah... could you hand me my hat?" He pointed to the tophat I didn't even see it fall off his head when he had stumbled. It was by the wire gate and I grabbed it, handing it to him. 

"Thank you, young lady." His voice has a tone, a tone of calm and softness to it. He put his hat on. "I, am a part-time magician!" 

I watch him, my eyes almost fascinated. Deep down I flet something wrong but it never felt so right. I stayed and ignored that gut feeling isnide my belly. "I wish I could say I was one too." I say, but now I fear I said too much.

He tilted his head, his long hair blew in the small breeze as the sun turned the sky orange. "And may I ask why?"

I thought there was no point in not telling him why, not just daying simply because it's 'fun' because that's far from the truth, it was a solid black lie. "So I could disappear."

A small grin grew on his face, "I'm Albert..." 

I smile a little too, "y/n." 

"Beautiful name." He looked begind himself and over my shoulder like he was looking for something, someone... The coast was clear. "Would you like to see a magic trick?" 

He sounded cheerful. Whatll happen to me? Nothing... Nothing I don't think deep down I wouldnt want to happen. "Sure..." 

He grinned, pulling a spray can from his... Pocket? Did he just carry it around or was he... Was he planning something? Any child could walked by and he was ready with a magic trick. But deep down I knew that wasn't the case. He shook the spray can.

"What's that?" I ask.

He laughed, his voice was a little darker and he ignored my question, he opened the back of his  van, now this was about the time a smart person would run but my feet were glued to the floor, why can't I just move!? He looked at me almost surprised but he regained it back. "Why don't you step closer so I can show you?" 

His voice is soft, his voice is the meaning of escape. I approached his van, close to him and saw him stay still, he was so very.. polite in a way and he saw my fear in my eyes but my needs were more important... He knew that. He saw that. He has no interest to scare me, I was far different in a way he didnt want to lose. 

He pulled my arm, enough to get me to put my back on him and to restrain me, not en to cause me any discomfort. Be put his index finger and his thumb on each side of my jaw to get my mouth to open. My fight or flight kicked in I couldn't help but struggle a little under his grasp, he grunted. I was scared... He knew that. 

He opens my mouth and manages to spray whatever was in that spray can in my mouth, I squeezed my eyes, it burned in a way, I cried aloud softly. He let me lean against him as my eyes got heavy. "Ssh, shh..." he cooed in my ear.

I was panting softly, he looked around to make sure no one was around and picked my legs up gently to place me in the back of his van, putting locks of hair away from my face and then finally shutting the door. 'why didn't she scream?' He thought as he walked to the front of his van and opened the door. 'Why?' 

He made it back to his home, it was a small house, red in color. A large tree in front. He had parked and got me out gently though I was slightly unconscious, dizzy. Stairs? Wait... A basement. He lied me on the mattress, my eyesight was blurry. "Hmmh." I hum softly as I lift my head. 

"Don't try to walk, you'll fall... And get hurt." He said the last part with a slight anger in his voice. I looked at him... I grew so scared, he wore a mask, his entire face was covered. Was this even the same man? Yes... I could smell that same faded cologne on him and the same way he put locks of hair out of my face. 

"You dont have to be scared." He said shaking his head, his deep voice muffled in the mask. "I'm not gonna hurt you anymore, just needed you to calm down." 

I sit up a little, I looked around, it wasn't even hours. I saw the orange sunsetting light in the large basement coming from the small window above, way above. And the rugged mattress I was on. "Why didn't you run?" He asked. 

He was very curious... So was I. "I don't know..." My voice was slightly shaky. 

He sighs softly, putting his hands on his knees. "I suppose you meant what you said about... Disappearing?" 

I look at his masked face, "why do you wear that?" He was surprised, I asked so bluntly. "Are you ashamed of seeing your own face?" 

He immediately slapped me, I grunted and put my hand on the spot of my cheek he had hit. His breath got heavy,he didn't want to hurt me, he felt sad, not angry with me but at himself. "I have to be upstairs for a while..." his voice was almost as shaky as mine, like he was crying. 

I don't tell him not to leave, I don't say anything. I wasn't shocked he had gotten mad at my words and I wasn't angry at his actions. What it was, it bothered him, but he didn't do anything to hurt me further than that. The door locked... And by the end of that day, I never heard that door unlock since.

[multifandomfanfic]

could you do something where ronaldo is your ex and you broke up because he cheated but he saw you with another man at a party and he got really jealous??

Cold Air

Word Count: ~2.2k

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Sorry this took so long and sorry if any descriptions of Qatar are inaccurate. Just suspend reality for a bit :)) (also, I proof-read this, but it hasn’t had a second pair of eyes look at it)

The city lights passed by your car as you made your way to the club. The World Cup was in full swing and, today, Portugal had beaten Switzerland by five goals. You wrinkled your nose. Portugal. As good of a team they were, any mention of their team, and especially a certain player, left a foul taste on your tongue. 

It wasn't like you didn't love Ronaldo. You did.., well, you had loved him at one point. Months ago you had been positive your relationship was going to last forever; you were living together, you went with him to his events, and you were even certain you had spied an engagement ring in his bag once. All of that was squashed within seconds thanks to Ronaldo’s unlocked phone and a few Instagram DMs. 

Within days, you had moved out of your shared house and into an apartment far away from Manchester. Ronaldo agreed to pay the first year of your rent in return for you not going public about his infidelity, but you took the high road. You did not need his help and, after what he did to you, you decided that you did not want to have any connection to him any longer. Enough was enough.

But here you were, in Qatar, the day his team beat the Swiss.

Your phone vibrated and you dug it out of your purse. 

I'll have to leave a little early tonight, Emi texted you.

What? Why?

Coach wants us to get at least eight hours of sleep before some extra practice in the morning. He explained, I'm free to do whatever you want tomorrow night.

You groaned and slumped back into the car seat. Great. Just great. The only reason you were going to this club was to celebrate Emi’s friend’s birthday, whom you had never met. In fact, you hardly knew anybody on his team. You had spent so much time with Portugal and Manchester United that you hadn’t become acquainted with any of the other teams. Besides, you had only been seeing Emi for a couple of months. 

“Is this it?” your driver asked. 

“Yes, this is it,” you sighed. The cold night air raised goosebumps on your skin as soon as you pushed open the door. It was refreshing and briefly distracted your mind from the awkwardness awaiting you inside.

The bouncer opened the rope as you approached. The club’s exterior was lit by LED lights, beckoning people to venture inside. Quite a crowd had amounted outside, drawn by the possibility of seeing a world-class futball player in person. They watched you as you entered the building. Who were you? And why were you here?

The interior of the bar was as exuberant and bright as the exterior. The only difference was the number of people crammed within its walls. Bodies were pressed against each other, moving to the music blaring from the speakers. Two bartenders were hurriedly making drinks for the growing crowd. They had been instructed to prioritize the futball players and serve them first, but they were struggling to keep up with that demand.

You scanned the throngs of people. One or two of the men close to you looked familiar, but the lights were set just dim enough that you couldn’t distinguish people from a distance. Their forms blended into one, swaying mass.

Person after person bumped and shoved you (whether on accident or on purpose, you couldn’t tell) as you forged your way to the bar. Surely, there were too many people in the club to be safe, but nobody paid attention. They were all having fun. You were the walking embodiment of dread.

You tugged on the end of your dress. It wasn’t yours–one of the players’ girlfriends had lent it to you–and it wasn’t exactly your taste either. The color was off and it fell awkwardly on your thighs. Anyone who knew you would know the dress was not your first choice. 

“Excuse me?” you asked the bartender closest to you, “Can I get one of those?”

The mixture of alcohol he was making was taking all of his attention, and he made no effort to respond. You groaned, leaned against the bartop, and began people-watching. There was no sight of Ronaldo or Emi. You weren’t expecting Ronaldo to be there, but you could never be too sure. 

“Y/N!” a familiar voice called from behind you.

You turned around and smiled, “Emi!” 

He pushed his way through the crowd, nodding and grinning at his friends. You recognized none of them, despite going to many of Emi’s games. Maybe you were too stuck in the past.

Once he reached you, Emi grabbed your waist and pulled you towards him. 

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, leaning over slightly and began kissing your neck. Several people’s eyes landed on the two of you. 

“Babe, please,” you whispered, “Not in public.”

He stepped back, “Why not?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable with it, ok?” you replied. To be honest, you had no idea why it made you so uneasy. People looking at you was one thing, but something else was off.

Emi smirked and loosened his grip on your waist, “Fine. But I will be seeing you tomorrow night.”

“It’s a date,” you chuckled. He left you one more kiss on your lips as he started to back away. He smiled and nodded his head goodbye. Before you knew it, Emi had disappeared into the mass of people.

The bartender continued to pay attention to other patrons, leaving you drinkless and bored. There was a full-length mirror behind the back of the bar. You examined yourself in it, rubbing off the lipstick that had made its way off of your lips and adjusting your hair so it fell just right on your face. A figure began to form behind you. Someone was making their way to the spot to your left. The way the lights were positioned and flashing, you could not tell who it was.. that is, until they spoke.

He ordered two of your favorite drink and, like clockwork, the bartender had them finished within seconds.

“You look good,” he almost mumbled as he took the first sip from his drink. His eyes scanned your figure, soaking in every aspect of how the dress fell on your body. You could have slapped him, “Although, I wouldn’t peg you as the type of girl to wear something like that.”

“What do you want, Ronaldo?” you spat. His face changed for a moment at the use of his last name instead of Cristiano–what you used to call him–but, within seconds, it was back to his usual, sly look. On the other hand, you could feel your face turning red. Months of pent-up rage and regret flooded back into your head. Why had you come here? Why did he have to be here?

“You haven’t changed a bit,” he said as you picked up your drink. You slammed it back down on the counter. A little sloshed over the edge and the bartender immediately wiped it with his towel. He scowled at you but smiled at Ronaldo. You pushed the glass to the farthest point on the bar that you could reach. You refused to drink it. That would make it seem like you were diving in.

“I asked you what you wanted,” you seethed, arms crossed across your chest, “Can you answer my question?”

He rolled his eyes and looked around as if you were the only person in the room who did not know what he was going to say. He then leaned closer, “You could do much better than an Argentinian. That’s all I wanted to say.”

You froze. Your mouth hung agape, your mind was apparently empty of any good comebacks. After a moment you managed a “Are you kidding me?” and a small, all-too-exaggerated laugh. The audacity this man had. He cheated on you, not the other way around. 

“Do you think I’m joking? I’m just stating the obvious, darling,” Ronaldo smirked. He leaned against the bar, drink in hand. Triumph was written all over his face. 

You pulled out twenty dollars from your purse and slammed it onto the bar to cover your drink. You stood up straight, staring your adversary in the eyes. 

“I’m done with your bullshit, Ronaldo. Do I need to remind you whose fault it was that we broke up? It wasn’t me!,” you shouted just loud enough so the people closest to you could hear, “Have a good life.”

You stormed past him, purposely bumping into his shoulder on the way to the back. Your feet carried you past the mob of bodies. Instead of annoying you, they acted to your benefit, creating an almost impenetrable sea for Ronaldo to cross to get to you. You made it to the back exit swiftly and, without hesitating, escaped the room.

The chilly air greeted you like an old friend. Your dress was hardly enough to keep you warm, but it didn’t matter. Compared to the inside of the bar and its patrons, it felt more friendly and calm in the frigid night.

You pulled out your phone and started searching for an Uber to take you home. You began walking down the alleyway, enveloped in the screen in front of you rather than paying attention to your surroundings. That was why you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a cold hand grab a hold of your arm.

You whipped around and tried to strike the attacker with your bag but, after a moment, you saw that it was none other than Ronaldo. Despite recognizing him, you still managed to hit him with your purse. You ripped your arm from his grasp and backed up. You weren’t truly scared of him, not at all, but he repulsed you so much that you wanted to distance yourself from him as much as you possibly could.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you exclaimed.

“Y/N, listen to m–”

“No, tell me what you think you’re doing!”

“I don’t know what I–” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and shifting his weight.

“You don’t know what you’re do–”

“Y/N, would you just listen to me, please?!” Ronaldo finally begged. He stood with his arms extended to you, silently pleading with you to let him speak, “Please?”

You checked your phone and then crossed your arms, “You have two minutes, Ronaldo, then I never want to see you again.”

“That’s fine, that’s perfect,” he took a step back. He looked at the sky as he took a deep breath. The stars were shining down on the two of you, illuminating the alleyway just enough that you could see Ronaldo’s breath and the sweat dripping down his face. What was bothering him so much?

He sighed, exasperated with his own thoughts, “Y/N, I.. you know I love you right?”

You did not reply, nod, or shake your head. You kept your eyes glued on him but, on the inside, your stomach was turning. This conversation could lead nowhere good. In the months since your break-up, you had thought about getting back together plenty of times. Yet, in reality, you could never let yourself do that. He cheated on you once. He had broken your trust. That could not happen again.

“I know you do. And I know, I hope, that deep down you still love me,” Ronaldo continued, trying to get any reaction out of you, but none came, “I will never love another woman as much as I love you. You were the light of my life, the thing that made me smile every single day without fail. You enchant me, Y/N,  and I went and screwed everything up. Will you forgive me?”

You scoffed, your arms only crossing tighter in front of your chest, “Don’t give me this ‘I love you most ardently’-esque crap. You cheated on me, Ronaldo. I have proof!”

“And I regret it every day! Y/N, you don’t understand how much I’ve beat myself up over this. I love you! You make me happy!”

“Ronaldo, if I really made you happy, frankly, we would not be in this situation right now,” you said, pursing your lips. You shrugged, “I am sorry, but I can’t forgive you.”

With that, a grey sedan drove to the end of the alleyway behind you. You checked the description on your phone–it was your ride.

“That’s me,” you said. The amount of water vapor in front of Ronaldo’s mouth only increased as he grew angrier and more confused. His mind was running, trying to find some solution to have you back, or to get you to at least forgive him, but he could not find one.

“Can you at least call me Cristiano?” he finally called out as you started to walk away.

You turned around. After a moment, you nodded, and made eye contact with him once more, “Alright, Cristiano. As I said earlier, I hope you have a good life.”

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THEM [PART 2]

-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]

[Part 2] [Part 3]

This is a sequel to One of the Boys

-> <-

"Five minutes," Steve counts on his watch. "I swear I'm leaving her."

Adjusting the itchy Family Video vest against his chest, Steve has had enough patience with Robin. He slams his fist into the horn on his car hoping the entire neighborhood wakes up. Maybe they could riot to her front door to get her out of bed.

Steve twists the dial to his radio. Seriously, where is this girl? Every morning at seven o'clock, Steve stops by her house to give her a ride to school. And, every morning the same routine plays like a horribly tuned piano. Well, today's the day, Steve puts his foot to the gas pedal.

"She can walk to school," hand on the gear shift, Steve readies to peel off the curb and zip down the street. But, he doesn't.

No, Steve is far too gentle of a soul to leave his friend out on the edge of a cliff like that. Allowing a puff of hot hair to escape, he rests back in the drivers seat and takes his foot away from the pedal. Maybe knocking some sense into his head would do the trick. He bends forward onto the steering wheel. The horn beeps, and deafens him.

Robin yanks open the car door. "Good morning, sunshine!"

"Next time-" Steve says lifting his head.

"'Next time, I'm leaving you!'" Robin slots into the passenger side, and buckles herself into the car. "Anything new with you?"

Steve doesn't like to believe that he's gotten so predictable. In fact, all driving around Robin to school and the the endless amount of freshman that need rides to go to and from their stupid after school club, Steve contemplates asking for compensation. But, again, he's not that guy.

"What took you so long?" He asks.

Robin scoffs. "I was in the bathroom. What? You want me running out here with my pants down leaving a trail behind me? I don't think so."

"Thank you for that visual, Robin," Steve winces.

Sure, she's running a few fifteen minutes late, but doesn't everyone have at least one bad day - or a week - or month - or year?

Robin sat straight up in her bed that morning with a pile of drool next to her on her pillow. Hair stuck straight out on one side of her head like it was trying to escape her. Yes, she could hear every horn honk that came from Steve Harrington's car, and no she did not make it her mission to torture him every morning by being late.

Her power went out. Or, maybe she slept through her alarm. Potayto; potahto. Either way, she smudges on a bit more blush from her compact in her bag, she's in the car now right?

"Did you eat breakfast?" Steve already know's she'll say 'no.' "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, you know. And, don't you have a test in first period? Shouldn't you be focusing on that instead of . . . what is that pink stuff?”

"It's blush, Steven," She teases. "You sound like my dad."

"Ha ha," he quips back. "Backseat."

Robin stretches around to see a brown paper bag soaking in it's own juices. He's stopped at the diner, before he came to pick her up. Sure that might have been his lunch for later in his shift, but he would rather not have his friend pass out while trying to recite the alphabet or whatever they teach these days.

"Stevie!" Robin pouts her lip.

"Shut up," he jokes.

Their relationship is platonic, although Robin did have to wave off Steve’s crush on her. She’s not into him, nor is she into any other man she’s ever come across. As a friend, however, Steve has turned into one of her closest. She relies on him, especially with him withholding her biggest secret. She’s very gay.

On the way to school, Hawkins is still all the same gray town. Cool weather blows winds through the streets freezing them all like icicles. Snow this year is said to be minimal, but freezing temperatures suggest otherwise.

Pulling into the parking lot of his old high-school, Steve hits his breaks sending Robin sliding forward. She clutches her bag, and adds a screwed look upon her face.

“My bad,” Steve doesn’t sound very apologetic. But, nonetheless, they’re friends and he has to pull her leg when she pulls his.

Robin springs from the car with her backpack in her hand, and her breakfast sack hanging out of her mouth. She muffles something along the lines of ‘thank you’ lost in translation behind the paper bag.

You wouldn’t know from the outside looking in, but Robin is quite apprehensive about school. There’s only so many crowds, and so many people that she can manage at one time. That’s usually why she’s on the hunt for someone she knows so bright and early - to defend her of the rampaging school children.

For example, Jason Carver is one of the biggest a-hole’s in the school. But, people still praise him like a King. That was Steve once, so she tries not to be too harsh when she judges him. But, he’s not making the best case for himself when he’s threatening a freshman boy for flunking Jason's homework. Jason’s minions are given the order to toss him into the dumpster, and Robin has the smarts to look away.

Robin swings open the double doors to be smacked in the face with the thick musk of high school air. She’s a bit late, so she thought that maybe people had begun flocking to class. Wrong. She dodges some kid parading around with an easel with the legs sticking out, so at least no one would bump into him.

There’s a window of opportunity for her to swing into her home room, and chow down on her breakfast before Mrs. Brown doesn’t scold her for not sharing with the rest of the class. She’s got about ten minutes until the bell rings, and Mrs. Brown is no where to be seen. She’s probably got her head over the copier grinding the gears a little too hard to give out weeks worth of homework due tomorrow. That’s her favorite.

As Robin sits in her usual spot, she opens the greasy bag in front of her. Bundled under a pile of trash from Steven’s breakfast burrito, she does find herself a single sandwich. Ham and Swiss cheese with far too many thick slabs of tomato for her liking. She lets the tomato slide off in a pile of sad gooey slime, and then places the bread back on top of the sandwich to complete it.

“I’ll see you later,” the usual conversation between classmates bores Robin, but the sound of your voice piques her interest.

“Yeah, I’ll see you later,” Eddie’s words draw out low and deep.

You’re giggling now, and Robin tilts her head to the open door. Without checking for other occupants, you swing Eddie into your shared home room to plant a various amount of wet kisses to his lips.

Frozen in time, Robin sits like a statue. She knows she’s not supposed to witness the exchange. Especially by Eddie overlooking his shoulder a number of times, before running off down the other hallway. You chase after him, but only to learn into the hallway to watch him run off.

You’re completely smitten.

Robins never known you to be this unaware. There’s a time and a half that she’s readied you for dates, but she’s never seen that shine in your eye, the flush on your cheeks or the floating just above the ground where the rest of us are.

How she skirted past being caught by you or Eddie is mind blowing. But, you’re in a ‘love bubble’ that’s impenetrable.

Robin grabs a thick needle, and jabs at the edges until the bubble bursts as you sit down. Forgetting the sandwich, and the painful growls from her stomach, Robin now twists in her seat making the chair moan.

“Good morning, Robin,” you’ve got cupids arrow in your ass. “When did you get here?”

“I don’t know,” her sarcasm is drooling from her mouth now. “Sometime before you and Eddie started making out at the door.”

Your stomach flips, and your face drops down back to earth. “Uh, oh.”

Robins bounces. “When did that happen?”

“Last Friday, after school,” you blurt as the bell rings. “Listen Robin, you can’t tell anyone what you saw. Please? We’re just trying to keep a low profile for a while.”

The classroom begins to fill, while you’re still silently begging for your friend to keep her mouth shut for once in her life. Robin’s the worst at keeping secrets!

And, Robin does go through the list of who she’ll blab too first. She could tell Steve because he would just reply ‘Who?’ and get all squinty. Or, she could tell Dustin, who’s really close to Eddie. That’s a fair trade.

That’s when Robin notices the gray plume of smoke floating into the classroom. A haze of green and gold glitter spiral into the archway. Suddenly, the mask drops to the tile floor. And what’s left?

Roxie Martin.

Robin might have a bit of an imagination, but what is very real is the absolute terror stricken fear written across your face. She’s a ball of evil with a bat hidden in her bra - probably.

Yeah, Robin thinks that she’ll keep quiet for a while.

“Good morning, class,” Mrs. Brown zips into the classroom with a years worth of paper stacked in her grip. “Roxie, please find your seat. And, unless you have enough to share with the rest of the class, put away your food, Robin.”

Robin’s stomach growls.

-> <-

tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr @harmfulb1tch

[whoblewboobear]

DEADLINE: Well beloved actor Jace Stardiamond spotted through cafe window with brunette woman. Could she break him out of his life long bachelor streak?

VARIETY: Mysterious Brunette confirmed to be alternative indie-film darling, Zara Sool. Sool is set to co-star alongside Stardiamond in upcoming steamy period drama

Ruby met Jace 3/17 @jacespurplescarf: “does this mean he’s still single??? 👀”

Reply to @jacespurplescarf

Professor Bitch @elfc0ck27641: “single? look up him n his agent theyre VERY close 🍆🍑”

[Jace]: People r talking about us again.

[Porter]: Let them, I’ll have our pr guy scrub X in a few

[Jace]: stop guzzling Elon’s balls and call it Twitter like the rest of us.

[Porter]: keep talking and I won’t have dinner ready when you get home.

[Porter]: or fuck you.

[Jace]: I hate you 😣

[Porter]: Luv u too, kitten 😌 Look over those scripts I sent you btw I wanna confirm one by EOD

[Jace]: no corporate speak 🤢🤢 say it in English for ur idiot thespian bf

[Porter]: u don’t do theater rmr? 🙄 end of day. Aka 6pm when my day is over.

[Jace]: u can leave whenever u salaried bitch

[Porter]: no dinner + not fucking u + L + ratio

[Jace]: 🤢 HATE whatever that was

[Porter]: Sierra taught me 😋

[Jace]: do we have her this week? Gotta ban her from teaching her weirdo dad anymore slang

[Porter]: not sure yet, Zel says she got invited to a sleepover

[Jace]: should we go on vacay then?

[Porter]: ur in the middle of filming ur staying put 👀

[Jace]: ugh ur no fun

[Porter]: EOD, Jace. I mean it.

[Jace]: 📑📝✅💜🖕🏻

~

Acclaimed actor Jace Stardiamond was known to be perpetually single throughout his lengthy career. In reality he was screwing in five year long committed relationship with, yes, his very own agent, Porter Cliffbreaker. An absolute shark in the industry with a list of star-studded clientele.

Jace was a walking cliche, sue him.

It wasn’t his fault Porter opted for a blazer that barely fit his hulking arms the day they met. It ended in their completely professional conversation turning to Jace catching Porter’s lips in a chaste kiss on the front steps leading up to his mansion in the hills. He apologized and Porter continued on with his pitch like nothing happened, like a fierce blush wasn’t passing over his cheeks and ears. Jace signed the paperwork and Porter kept him at arms reach.

Until he took Jace out for a nice dinner to celebrate acing an audition. It wasn’t a special or memorable one. He wasn’t the lead. That night, Porter peered at him over his champagne flute (filled with ginger ale instead) before saying, “I’ll celebrate your wins, no matter the size. A win for you is a win for us.” Us.. he liked the thought of being an ‘Us.’

In the industry, there hadn’t been much opportunity for dating. Hookups were few and far between with trusted partners; none of them serious enough to commit to but they took care of each other’s needs. Porter took care of his career, but he wouldn’t mind if he took him apart instead. He sat across from the man fantasizing about how easily he could pick him up and pose him into whatever position he saw fit. The idea left him desperate.

When Porter summoned him for a meeting, he definitely wasn’t expecting the best agent he’s had in a decade to drop him. He was always the one trading up, not whatever the hell this was. They’ve only been working together for a year..

“Mr. Stardiamond, I have a conflict of interest and I can no longer be your agent. I apologize.” Jace didn’t make it a habit of screaming at people on his payroll. It was a level of disgusting he didn’t tolerate, but if what he was hearing was true.. Porter was quitting- or? Firing him? He wasn’t exactly sure which suited the situation better, but he knew he wanted to scream.

“What the hell? Don’t Mr. Fucking Stardiamond me. What conflict of interest?”

“I’m attracted to you. I could get fired.” Jace’s mouth goes dry and his heart kicks off into overdrive. Porter.. liked him back?

“We can’t just talk to HR or something?” Porter looks up from his computer screen, realization dawning on him as Jace’s bright, determined eyes peer back at him. “We’d only do that if- oh?”

“Yeah, you fucking idiot. Be my boyfriend, be my agent, be both. Who fucking cares. We don’t have to go public. I don’t like- dating and publicity gets messy.”

“You’re not seeing anyone, I take it?”

“Christ, Porter. No, I jerk off thinking of you in plane bathrooms like a loser. I’ve had more wet dreams about you than I can count. I- can I kiss you again? A real kiss.”

“After I fill out the paperwork for HR.” Jace rolls his eyes, resting his chin on his hand, smiling at Porter across his desk. The walls were glass, he couldn’t do anything now, he knew that. Every inch of him burned to close the distance. To push everything off Porter’s desk and let him drill into him while the corporate jag offs milling about watched.

“Let me take you out tonight.”

~

Porter hadn’t considered that he’d be on a flight later when Jace offered to take him out. But here he was, on a private plane headed across the world for a dinner date. LA had all the food they could ever want, but Jace insisted this Parisian restaurant was the best of the best. He was right and Porter was almost impressed. Almost.

“You don’t have to throw money around, I already like you.” Jace hums, taking a deep sip of the top shelf wine he requested for the both of them. Porter was familiar with it. “Can you just enjoy the nice date thing I’m trying to do with you?”

“I am. But I have to meet with a client at six am and I’d like to go to gym at five without being jet lagged,” he smirks.

He knew provoking Jace like this would only push him to brat territory. He liked when Jace got bratty with him. He’d only seen it in a professional sense- as professional as Jace could manage (not much.) It was like he was allergic to playing the part outside of watchful eyes.

From what he heard, Jace was on his best behavior once he waltzed into a place where he was know, where anyone could be watching. But Porter loved how candid he could be when they were alone. Clients were entitled to their masks, he wore his own to get by, but Jace? He took his off the minute Porter closed his office door. The entire floor could see them, his body language remained tactful, but his words? Blunt, opinionated, and clever.

He was so charming, Porter imagine you had to have that quality to be an actor. Actor charm never quite broke down his walls until Jace. Something about those golden eyes and that bright smile. He was also attractive. Even in the dim restaurant lighting he looked breathtaking.

This was a good first date, but Christ he needed more. He needed to know what Jace sounded like when his fingers explored his body.

“Porter?”

“Yeah- sorry. Wine’s getting to my head a bit.”

“You took one sip,” Jace raises an eyebrow. “I don’t usually drink.” Jace eyed him curiously.

“Do you wanna head to the tarmac? We could fuck on the flight home.”

“You fuck on the first date?”

“I don’t date, remember.”

“Still dunno if I believe you or not.” Jace shrugs at that. “Is it that hard to believe? I’ve been on camera since I was a month old. There isn’t enough time or privacy in the world.”

“And you think this’ll work out?”

“I do. I’m confident.”

Five years later and Jace was still confident, but more importantly, he was right.

[positivelybeastly]

Does beast resent the X-Men?

"What a funny question. What's to resent?"

So, funny thing - I'm pretty sure that Hank has never really wanted to be an X-Man. He's found meaning in it, of course; he's made some good friends; he met one of the loves of his life through the X-Men; he's been able to do a massive amount of good in the world by being the right X-Man in the right place at the right time.

But it's not a life that's really good or healthy for him, and this dates all the way back to the 60s, if you can believe it.

This is from Uncanny X-Men #5, in 1964. We haven't even hit double digits yet!

Five issues in, and he already doesn't really want to be there! And it's kind of not hard to see why - his powers are easy to control, he can pass for a human with ease, his genius intellect means he can have his pick of any research project he wants, he has a family that loves him and accepts him, he had a girlfriend before he joined the X-Men. Honestly, Hank's life was pretty good!

But.

He was made a promise that he'd get to change the world in a way that his normal life wouldn't afford him.

It's just that Professor X didn't really tell him that there'd be days like this.

It's one thing to have to fight a magnetic maniac who's going to throw missiles at you and try to nuke a small country. Fine, whatever, that may well have been in the brochure. But did the Professor ever tell them that they were going to be attacked by the people they were trying to save? Because here's the thing, there are universes where Hank isn't so lucky when things like this happen.

But hey, this is all part and parcel of being a superhero, right?

Uh, well.

No. No, this is specifically an X-Men problem.

It fucking sucks being an X-Man, dude. It fucking sucks. You work hard, you nearly get killed, nobody appreciates you, and yeah, you and your friends know that it's unfair and that you deserve better, but that doesn't magically make it change, does it?

So, does Hank resent the X-Men, in so far as the actual concept? Yeah, a little bit. He recognises there's a need for them, of course, but actually having to be one fucking sucks! He can do just as much good with the Avengers or the Defenders as he can with the X-Men, maybe even more, so why should he be with the X-Men?

Well.

Because they need him.

Because without Hank McCoy, the X-Men would have been absolutely fucked in the following situations (list is not exhaustive):

The Dark Phoenix Saga (he stopped the police from answering the Hellfire Club calls for assistance, and created the psionic scrambler that gave them a fighting chance against her in their second fight).

Finishing the cure for the Legacy Virus (other geneticists might well have been closing in on solving it, like Kavita Rao, but how many more mutants would have died in the time it took for them to match Hank's speed?)

Stopping Unus the Untouchable from joining the Brotherhood of Mutants and fucking rolling the X-Men way, way back in the day.

Creating the Skrull Legacy Virus bioweapon, which may well have been morally repugnant, but who knows how many more casualties the world and the remaining X-Men would have sustained in a protracted conflict with the Skrulls?

Negotiating peace with Hydra Cap to create New Tian; giving the X-Men time to regroup and save mutants from the Terrigen Clouds; and hey, do you know what Hank's actual most underrated achievements are?

Oh yeah, that time he saved humanity! Solo!

And that time he saved the Inhumans!

Like. The X-Men need Hank. They always need him. Hell, you know what I find really fucking funny? Krakoa's very happy to shit all over him, but guess what?

The flowers that create those lovely miracle drugs that gives Krakoa economic bargaining power? Hank's creation.

Not Sinister's.

Not Moira's. Not Xavier's, not Magneto's, not Storm's, not Cyclops'.

Hank.

They need him.

Hell, they can't even kill Hank without Hank!

But at least they treat him right, yeah?

Right?

"Hey, Hank, I know we got you fired from Harvard University because we turned up to your place of work for your help and shit went down, like, instantly, but . . . uhh, not gonna say sorry!"

"Hey, so, I know that we made you move to Attilan to try and come up with a solution to M-Pox, but since you can't deliver, we're just going to thunderbolt you in the back and lock you in a cage, mmkay?"

"Have you just tried not having PTSD, Hank? Can you do that for us? I know you're upset that your claws and fur fell out, but, like, the whining's getting to just be a bit much."

"Hey, so, like, we know you recently lost a finger, got telepathically fucked in the head by Charles' evil twin, and are basically dealing with the mother of all body dysmorphia episodes right now, but have you considered fuck you, we need a poster boy that says it's okay to be a mutant? Because the rest of us are all really pretty supermodels with easily hidden powers and that kinda sends the wrong message, you know?"

There's a moment, that I'm not going to cap, because it comes from Uncanny X-Men #600, during the intervention, where Hank turns around, sees the time displaced X-Men, his fellow teaching staff, his friends (allegedly), and they're all telling him that he's unstable. That he's causing them problems.

Ororo tells him, either you listen to us, or we call SHIELD and have them put you in a box for crimes against nature and science.

And he says, verbatim, "After everything I've done for you - "

The narrative paints him as furious. Obstinate. An asshole.

Except, he's right. He's given them everything he has. And it's not enough for them. He's in obvious pain, he's lashing out, he's emotionally unstable, he's acting irrationally. But they can't even do this right, because this is not how you help Hank. Hank doesn't respond to this, and you'd know that if you fucking cared.

What does Hank respond to?

Care.

Concern.

Love.

Even if you don't read this moment romantically, is it not just fucking startling the difference in Hank's character? All of his 'friends' in a room, he walks out, he leaves, he's furious, because fuck you all, you want to humiliate me like this?

But Simon just. Asks him out for drinks, and he talks, and he talks, and he talks, and he smiles.

Your question was, does Beast resent the X-Men?

I ask you in return - how could he not?

His life would be better if he'd never joined them. And he knows that.

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 24: food play

nct/wayv 1.3k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Xiao Dejun NSFW

🖤 warnings: my ridiculous passionate undying love for xiaojun, not letting ur puppy watch u get down n dirty, improper use of ice cream bars 🖤

kinktober masterlist

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"What the hell are you doing?"

He's completely frozen like you caught him committing a petty crime, like a dog with its head in the cupboard.

That's not too far off, actually, because Bella is right behind him, beagle tail wagging as she expects a bite of whatever her dad is trying to find. In the freezer, though. Not the cupboard.

"Nothing," Dejun answers.

Really, you're not shook about the snack. He can eat what he wants, when he wants. You're just wondering why this is happening at nearly three in the morning. The witching hour, man. Middle of the night. Making suspicious noises in the dark, dark kitchen.

"I heard a noise, I thought Bella was breaking something," you say, squinting even in the dim light of the freezer.

He relaxes. "Oh. No. Just me."

Just him. No dog messes to clean up, which is a huge relief. You're sleepy as hell.

"Then eat your whatever and come back to bed," you say.

"Wait."

"What?"

"You wanna try this?"

You really want to bury yourself back under the covers, and pass out for the remaining few hours until you need to get up for work, but you're only human. Your ability to resist your most favorite boy, with his messy middle-of-the-night hair, still rifling through the fridge, is extremely low. Basically nonexistent. If he's having fun, you want to be there.

He's just so excited. Tail wagging, basically.

It's three in the morning.

You sigh. "What is it?"

He brightens. You swear you can see the fine, sparkly glitter cascading off him, like a cartoon character at peak power. See, this is the energy you can't resist.

"I found these Oreo ice cream things," he says.

Of course, they're Oreo.

After the second or third time Ten roasted him for making shitty desserts in the microwave, Dejun made it his personal mission to find the best store-bought Oreo flavored snacks and desserts. Cookies and cream flavored confections are included, you've been told, but on thin fucking ice.

The best one needs to be found, and he's gonna be the one to find it.

"They're good. I ate one on the way home," he tells you.

"How many did you get?"

The heavy plastic shopping bag that comes out of the freezer is all the answer you need.

"A few," he says, diplomatically.

"More than five?"

"No comment."

"More than twenty?"

He grins. "No."

"Then we're fine," you decide.

"Do you want one?"

"Sure."

Dejun hands you a flimsy blue packet emblazoned with the Oreo logo. Looks pretty good, at least.

You open it up and take a bite. Yeah, pretty good. Nice.

In stark, pitiful contrast, Dejun opens his own ice cream, bites off the end, and immediately drops a big chunk of black chocolate coating onto his white tee.

"Fuck."

"Clumsy," you say, fondly.

It stains, because of course it does. You watch his panic build, as you lean down and retrieve the piece of chocolate so that Bella doesn't get to it. He darts for the sink, and he scrubs at the dark spot with some water, but it doesn't budge.

"It'll come out," you tell him.

"Still," he grumbles.

He strips off the shirt, while you watch with pointed interest. You get to see him naked a lot, but hey, sue you. You enjoy it every time.

The shirt gets yeeted, and the ice cream melts down his hand.

"Careful," you warn.

But the vanilla bar melts down his hand, down his arm, and as he raises the bar up, panicky, to try and fix it, the trail of white drips onto his abs.

He's gotten skinny-guy jacked, lately, and the melted dessert falls enticingly into the little ridges between his abs. He just stares down at it, annoyed.

You, on the other hand, are getting an idea.

"Hey," you say.

He glances up. "Yeah?"

You grab hold of his wrist, and push the softened half-eaten ice cream bar into his chest. He yelps. Which, yeah. It's still cold and the texture is weird. But still...

"Jeez!" he yelps louder.

"Let me just-"

It's three in the morning. It's not your fault.

You lean in, take hold of his thin, broad shoulder, and you lick a stripe up his chest. The ice cream is sweet and cool, and the warm smoothness of his skin underneath is a strange thrill. You just kind of vibe with it for a second. You go in to lick him again, this time, sweeping over a nipple.

"Oh-KAY!" he says, stumbling back a step. "Okay! Wow!"

Poor guy is flushed and wild-eyed. He glances down at his dog, who's just watching, like she wants to go next.

"Sorry, should have asked," you say, shameless.

Dejun looks down at his chest, at the flecks of ice cream and the clean trails you've left behind. You're looking a little lower, at the very sudden interested shape in the front of his pajama pants. Incredible. Your impromptu plan worked like a charm.

What he says, when he finally speaks, is, "Not in front of the puppy."

Bella gets locked out of the bedroom, but one of the ice cream bars gets to come in.

Another one, a fresh one. It's melting, but that's kind of the point.

"You're super weird," he tells you.

"I'm exciting," you correct him.

Clothes are lost, the tingling arousal you'd already been feeling from putting your mouth all over him rising with every inch of skin revealed. Dejun still seems flustered, but he's a cocky bastard. You can see his stupid rizz coming in strong.

You're eager to rip open the next ice cream. Clasped in the excited warmth of you hand, it's mostly melted, squishy in the package. You liked doing it more than you thought, the first time. What was mostly impulse turned into something that you can't wait to try again.

But you don't get to do that, because Dejun snatches the ice cream away.

"Hey, what - oh!"

The dude isn't the tallest, not the biggest, but he's got the motivation and the audacity. He pushes you right onto the bed and crawls on top of you. He sits on your thighs, pinning you in place pretty effectively. You could probably get him off you, if you wanted, but why would you want to?

"This is revenge," he says, dramatic, per usual.

"Do it."

Melted ice cream is fucking cold.

It's cold, but it feels...nice. You're squirming under Dejun as he rips the packet with his teeth and drips the melty vanilla ice cream down your torso. Careful, so that it doesn't run down your sides and stain the sheets.

There's something extra obscene about the color, you muse, as you take in the little shapes he's drawing on you.

"You know what," he says, peering down at your messy chest and stomach. "I get it."

The cold was interesting, but the warmth is even more thrilling.

Dejun's careful tongue, tracing the lines he drew, warm against the chill on your skin. His teeth, as he nips at the thin skin over your ribs, a slow drag over your sternum.

His eyes have fluttered shut. His hand is splayed over your torso, long pretty fingers.

"Jun," you say, serious.

"Mm?"

He's not really listening. He glances at you, and then he adjusts the angle of his head just a little bit, calculated, so that you can see the very best of his sharp jaw, his long lashes.

Fucker. He knows how pretty he is, and he's weaponizing it.

"Jun," you repeat.

"Yes?"

"Does this get to be on your Oreo dessert tier list?"

Now, that one makes him sit all the way up again, face thoughtful. He still has the ice cream wrapper clutched in one hand, and he straightens up on top of you as he rips open the package all the way and takes out a piece of the chocolate coating. He eats it.

"I dunno," he says. "I think we need more research."

You wriggle again, the tacky feeling on your skin starting to get weird. "More research?"

"Yeah. I mean. For example. Is that the tastiest thing in the room?"

His smile is so stupid. Can't even sell an innuendo without cracking up.

"Let's find out."

[angxlwritez]

Been Like This

➳♡゛PAIRING: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

➳♡゛SUMMARY: (Y/N) has finally come to the realization that things are no longer how they used to be. Coming to terms that it was never her fault.

➳♡゛WARNINGS: Explicit Language, Angst, Mentions of Breakups, Angst (If I missed any just let me know).

➳♡゛A/N: Heavily inspired by the song "Been Like This" by Doja Cat. From the moment I heard it I just had to write something. Plus I had to get in my angst bag real quick!

Y/N sat at the table as classical dinner music played around her. She poked the long green vegetable with her fork while her other hand rested along her thigh, discreetly hiding the fact that her long acrylic nails were digging into the skin of her palms. She watched as the man in front of her ate his meal without giving her a second glance, almost as if she wasn't there at all.

Thoughts went through the woman’s head, debating on whether she should leave or not. She wasn’t the type of person to just leave, but the situation had become too much for her. One of the biggest issues was that she didn’t know what to say, but the reality was that there really was nothing to say at all. This had gone on for far too long, and she finally wanted out.

As Y/N rested the fork down, she took up the thin wine glass and took a long sip as her eyes closed. It wasn’t like the man in front of her was paying attention anyway. That being said, she’d be needing the sweet liquid courage for what she was about to do. As she opened her eyes, she let out an almost quiet “ahem,” hoping to catch his attention.

As Eren looked up, the woman began to speak. “I shouldn't have come. You can't be doing th-" Stopping her words, she took a deep breath from her nose, trying to conceal the harsh tone of her voice as to not draw any attention between the two.

Before anything else was said, Y/N whispered a hushed “I need to go,” as she quickly stood up and left through the restaurant’s doors. Walking as fast as she could in her heels to find her car, tears started to fall from the woman’s face. As easy as she’d thought it would be to let go, she felt hurt and upset.

 She knew she should have listened to the people around her, but she was just too blind to see it. She thought that whatever was going on would just pass, but she was wrong. Those days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months. The same person she fell in love with changed right before her eyes. It wasn’t until the time they spent apart that she finally noticed.

He never reached out to her once, never apologized when he was the one who did wrong. It was always her coming back to him, her apologizing to him, and she never did anything wrong. All she wanted to do was be the perfect partner, and that’s where she realized she was wrong. It was never her fault.

Digging through her purse to find her keys, Y/N could hear the heavy footsteps of Eren close behind her, refusing to turn around.

“What was that about, Y/N?” The man’s voice rose as he continued to stand behind her, waiting for her to turn around.

Discreetly wiping the tears from her face, Y/N gave him a piercing gaze before turning her head again as she began to speak. In a hushed tone, the woman whispered, "Why did you invite me here, Eren?"

"Is it wrong for me to want to see my fiancé? I haven't seen you in five fucking months, Y/N!" The man's voice rose as his nostrils flared.

 The woman turned around as she shook her head. "See me? You didn't even look at me at the damn table. As a matter of fact, you barely even looked at me all night. Do you want to tell me why that is?" Eren stood still, not even uttering a word, just looking at her as if she had two heads.

 "What's the matter, huh? Cats finally got your tongue? Or have you realized how much of a pathetic person you really are?"

Before Y/N could let out any more words, the man quickly interrupted her. "Do you really have to do this here? Can you stop making this a big deal for once?"

Y/N rolled her eyes as she slightly clenched her jaw, her anger almost getting the best of her. As she tried to ignore what Eren had just said, she spoke, "I'm tired, Eren."

Eren continued to stare at the woman, taking slow steps towards her as he tried to close their distance.

Not wanting him any closer than where he was, she mumbled 'stop' as she stuck out her hand to stop him. She murmured, "I don't think I can love you like this.”

"Tell me that's not true, Y/N. This has to be a joke, right?" Eren exclaimed as he was shaken with shock.

The woman shook her head as she spoke, "There's nothing to joke about, Eren. Everything is more important to you than me. I tried, I really did. I gave you three whole years of me, and I guess it wasn't enough for you. All you had to do was meet me halfway, and you couldn't even do that."

 Eren's eyes widened as a look of panic flashed across his face. "We can work this out, Y/N. We always do."

"There's nothing to work out, Eren. I'm done. I really thought you were different, and you proved me wrong. The damage is done. We're over!"

Y/N removed the diamond-encrusted band from around her finger, throwing it at him.

 "You don't mean that, Y/N. I can be better. I promise!"

Y/N watched as Eren got on his knees, pleading with her. As much as it may have hurt her to see him like this, she couldn't bear the pain of the constant hurt he'd caused her. She was doing this because she finally needed to let go.

"I'll have a few people come by to collect the rest of my things in the next few days. If you need anything from me, just let them know, and they'll be sure to drop them off. You won't be seeing me again."

As the woman got in her car, she rolled down the window to utter her last words to him. "And Eren... I hope that one day you'll look back at what we had and regret every little thing that you did to let us end." As she rolled up her window, the woman left in her car.

 Taking one last glance at her rearview mirror, she saw the man she once loved on his knees, leaving behind their memories in the past.

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