#seeing people you've been watching on your little computer screen for years and years is always so weird

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.3

WandNat x Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Notes: Mentions of death, violence, underaged drinking, slight mentions of SA, lisichka=little fox

Summary: Natasha has heard stories of you from Wanda. It has her doubting your current day skill level. With Dragos and Wanda in a meeting, you get the chance to tell her a bit about the person you've become.

An: Finally something between Y/n and Natasha (I say finally as if this isn't chapter 3 lol) Anyway enjoy this chapter and see you back next week.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

You could feel Natasha’s eyes on you as you worked. It was tedious work, but you typed away with a smile on your face regardless.  You thought that maybe she’d pick up her phone or something, but she seemed to just watch you.

“You want to ask me something or you just going to keep staring?” You kept your eyes on the computer screen as you addressed her.

“You’re different than Wanda said you’d be,” was all that she said.

You finally looked at the red head, “Well like I said, it’s been a while since she has seen me. A lot has changed in the years she’s been gone.”

“Like what?”

You paused your work to give Natasha your full attention. You sat back fully in your chair pondering back to the last time you saw Wanda. “Well, she left before I graduated. Back then I thought I was going to take my degrees, find an honest job, and live a normal life. I was fragile, even after the self-defense training. I hadn’t held a gun, I hadn’t hacked into anything, I was just a little girl.”

“And now?”

You gesture around you, “Now, I have this nice office. I crunch numbers for the most high-profile company in town, that just happens to be a front for a criminal organization. I have 2 degrees, I can defend my family and myself, I’ve shot a gun more times than I can count, and I could hack into anything that you could imagine.”

“You’ve got a ledger?” The line about the gun seemed to stick out to Natasha.

You shrug your shoulders, “I’ve carried my weight.”

“How many?”

The question startles you a bit. It was so candid as if she was asking about the weather. You could see them, the people you had killed. It wasn’t a large number, not even in the double digits, but still.

“7.” You don't know what compelled you to keep speaking,” I remember all of them. What is it they say about the first one? You will never forget it. I was 20, it was before I joined the organization. Pietro had dragged me to some party.”

“I take it you weren’t a party animal back then?”

You chuckle and shake your head, “Not even a little so I did what everyone does to get comfortable at a party. I took a few shots, it was stupid. As a light weight and someone not of legal drinking age, I should've been more careful. The shots had loosened me up, so I was enjoying the party for awhile. I lost Pietro at some point, but I was too drunk to notice.”

You see Natasha frown a bit, but you continue, “The host of party finds me on the dance floor. We dance for a while; we don't say much, just hi. Someone spilled a drink on me while we were dancing. He offered to get me a new shirt. Like the innocent little idiot I was, I followed him up to his room.”

You paused, almost feeling like you were back in that moment. You could feel everything again, your skin was hot and sweaty, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, you could feel him on you.

Natasha could sense she lost you to the memory. She got up from the couch in your office to make her way towards you. She took a seat on the edge of your desk and pulled your hands into hers. “What happened in his room?”

“He tried to take advantage of me. He tore my shirt off just so his gross hands could grope my skin. He pulled me against him fiddled with his belt before trying mine. His breath was hot on my neck as he peppered kisses on my collarbone. When his hand slipped into my pants, is when it really clicked in my head. I had told him to stop, but he wouldn’t. You know the kind of guys that say, ‘you want this’ or ‘you teased me all night’ or ‘You’re the one half naked in my room’. He was one of those, no wasn’t going to cut it.”

Natasha squeezes your hand as you recount the harsh memory. It looks like you could cry right there in the office. Then all of a sudden, the tears pooling in your eyes are gone. A blank expression takes over your face.

“For a minute, I pretend I’m into what this creep is doing to me. Only enough for him to loosen his grip on me. At this point my back was against his front. I reach behind his head, like my arms trying to loop to bring him closer. Except one of my hand rests on top of his head and the other one is on the opposite side of his jaw. I snapped his neck. His body hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.”

“Y/n- “

“I threw up when I saw him. After I was done, I called Pietro, he found me upstairs with the body. He felt so guilty for leaving me, but I could tell he was surprised too. So surprised that fragile little Y/n had snapped someone’s neck.”

Natasha’s eyes bored into yours, “That asshole deserved that. He deserved worse.”

“He didn’t rest even in death. Dragos made sure of it. He made that family’s life a living hell. It was a message to the entire city that I was under their protection. If anyone so much as laid a finger on me there would be dire consequences.”

A silence filled the room. Natasha didn't remove her hand from yours and you didn't ask her too. You glanced back at your computer, knowing you had to finish your work.

“Wanda never said you were fragile, just delicate,” Natasha’s fingers drew patterns on your hand.

You shake your head, “Wanda has always had a way with turning something negative into a positive. I never saw the difference between the two words, but she’d always say- “

“Fragile things break quickly into millions of pieces under the slightest pressure,” Natasha starts as if she had been there when Wanda said it to you.

“If you were fragile, you wouldn’t be here with us. You’re delicate, beautiful, intricate, and deserve to be handled with care,” you finish with a fond smile on your lips.

“For what it’s worth, I think she was right,” Natasha returns to her space on the couch to allow you to keep working.

She finally pulls out her phone seeming to have relaxed a bit because of your vulnerability. You want to refocus on work, but there are some questions that are nagging you about the woman in your office.

“How did you two meets? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Natasha ponders a minute for a suitable answer, and you take note of it, “The short version is that we met at work.”

You raise an eyebrow, “And what did you do for work?”

“Guess.”

You let your eyes look over the woman. You took in her relaxed posture, the muscles hiding under her shirt, the way she allowed you to be vulnerable with her, the mischievous glint in her eye. She was a multifaceted woman, you could tell.

“Spy, a Russian spy to be exact.”

Natasha seems slightly surprised, “How’d you guess Russian?”

“Romanoff sounds suspiciously close to Romanov, common last name in old Russia.”

“You’re a smart lisichka aren’t you?”

A blush takes over your features, “Little fox is new, but you’re stalling, Natasha.”

She crosses her arms across her chest, “Well I was formerly spy, turned into assassin for hire. I was anonymously hired to kill Wanda.”

“Too charming to kill?”

Natasha sighs, “I tried, but she was just too good. We started this rivalry, playful banter, suggestive tones, I spent a lot of time trapped under her thighs. It got to the point where I didn’t want to kill her, I had terminated the contract, but I just kept coming around to see her. She told me that my skills were being wasted on petty assassinations, when I could be working for her. I said the only way I’d consider was if she went out with me. The rest is history.”

“Leave it to Wanda to seduce an assassin.”

Natasha laughs, “Hey, she only seduced me because I let her.”

“Whatever you say super spy. I’ve got to finish this work before we have to leave for dinner.”

“Flora might have your head if you show up late,” Natasha comments.

You press the small button on your desk, “Thanks for reminding me. Kate, do you think you could get me some hydrangeas for Mrs.Maximoff.”

“Of course, Y/nn, anything for you,” she responds cheerfully.

You roll your eyes, “Thanks Katie.”

With that you're back to working. Though Natasha pulls out her phone, you still feel her eyes on you at time. It sends shivers up your spine, yet you don't want her to stop looking.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON) - CHAPTER ONE: CLOSURE

“IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME, AND SEEING THE SHAPE OF YOUR NAME STILL SPELLS OUT PAIN.”

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: strong language, angst, alcohol consumption, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.1K+

☆ A/N: this will make a whole lot more sense if you've already read the one shot that this entire series is based upon! and thank you to @fracturedarkness and @munson-blurbs for beta-reading <3

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

It had taken nearly two hours, and even as the aerial platform is finally lowered from scaling the side of the building, there are still remnants of the graffiti paint scattered across the crumbling brick. 

You’d watched the workers scrub at the rusted shades for ages, ignoring the new emails beginning to pile up in your inbox on the screen, only to be left completely dissatisfied. You hadn’t really thought the graffiti was ugly so to speak – it was just there. It was blatant and something that demanded to be seen, a stain on that stretch of wall that made up your desk’s entire viewpoint each and every day. And it wasn’t ugly, but it wasn’t pretty. 

You’d even been a little excited when you saw the cleaning crew. A little hopeful. 

But the hope had been wasted, as it always was, as you watch the crew give up the battle and the paint win the war. Go figure. Another day and another stain that can’t be erased. 

“You know, I’ve heard of dreadfully boring people watching paint dry, but never seen someone look so enticed by paint being removed.” 

You look up quickly from where your dead stare had zeroed in, a chipping splash of vibrant scarlet that hardly stood out against tired and faded red-turned-pink bricks, to face your coworker. 

“Ha-ha,” you deadpan, spinning your office chair so your entire body now faced her, “Have you ever considered a career change, Romina? Maybe you’re better off a comedian rather than an event planner.” 

Romina, your coworker, only smiles brightly at the monotone joke. She holds a mug of coffee in her hand as she rests her hip against the edge of your desk, lips pursed as she takes a slow sip from her steaming cup. The sharp, bitter scent of the coffee wafts across the space before she lowers the mug right onto your desk – completely disregarding the coaster available. 

Sure to leave behind a stain; a ring of light brown on your pristine desk. You can’t help but cringe. 

“Apparently they sent out an email about that new secretive project,” Romina continues on without addressing your sarcasm, “Said whoever’s got the account has been notified.”

“Awesome.”

“I didn’t get an email.”

“I’m sorry?”

Romina sighs, realizing you weren’t going to take the bait. “Have you received an email?”

You shrug in a silent succession of, probably not. 

Your pessimism keeps your hand from reaching out and wiggling your mouse as an attempt to wake your desktop computer back up. You highly doubt you were the one to be elected for this new project that had the entire office buzzing. You’d only been working here for a little over a year, hardly earning any attention with the small weddings and local business grand openings you had taken on during that time. 

And that was fine.

You were fine flying under the radar for the time being. It’s not that you weren’t good at your job — you were excellent at it, even — but whatever this top secret project was was the farthest thing from your expertise.

You didn’t do secretive projects. You did simple. You did small. The exact opposite of what you’d heard about this elusive opportunity. 

“Have you even checked?” Romina presses, leaning down and tapping your space bar herself, making the screen come to life before you could protest, “C’mon, babe! Aren’t you at least a little bit curious?” 

Another honest shrug. “Truthfully? Not at all.” 

She makes no move to grab her coffee cup as she pushes herself off your desk, standing over the screen now with intent and focus. All you can really think about is that damn faded ring that’s going to be left behind.

You really wish she would have used the coaster.

The login screen stops her in her mission, making her take a step back and wave you forward, pointing excitedly at your keyboard, “You know, I heard it might have something to do with a very popular band. One rumored to be dropping an album soon. Possibly the album release party. Doesn’t that sound dreamy?” 

Your stomach drops.

Romina is all wistful sighs and dreamy eyes as she says it, still pushing that keyboard closer to you as she looks out the window you had been before her arrival. It’s clear she’s looking right past that stained wall. She probably doesn’t even notice the evidence of graffiti that was left behind. The marks are lost on her eyes; but she hadn’t spent hours waiting for it to all be cleaned away, to be fair. No, it’s clear the only thing on her mind is this popular band.

And you know which band it is. It’s not just the prospect of a larger project that has kept you out of this rumor mill — it’s the prospect of the client.

Everyone knew you didn’t care for the band. Or at least, you said you didn’t care for the band.

Nearly a year ago, several coworkers had invited you to a sold out show. They had an extra ticket, and had so kindly extended it to you. A flag of friendship billowing in the wind, outstretched to you in such a welcoming manner. And you’d shot them down — you’d lied, and you’d said you had plans before you’d spent the entire night throwing your own personal pity party.

“I don’t think I’d be the first choice for an album release party, Ro,” you murmur as you finally tug your chair in closer to your desk. You ignore the knots forming in your stomach, that heavy weight that presses into your chest. There was no way you’d be assigned the project. You’d simply log in, show Romina, and then maybe she’d leave you alone, “I usually just take on weddings. That’s my forte. Not arranging open bars and booking rooftops for some shitty band.” 

Romina scoffs, “Some shitty band? I know you don’t like them, but Corroded Coffin is not just some shitty band.”

Corroded Coffin. The weight makes your ribs creak, makes your lungs ache. 

You swear she’ll notice the way you freeze in your typing. The mere mention of them, of him, curls around your body and easily triggers your fight or flight response. 

Well, fight or flight or freeze. A new option, a new and drifting cold, has made itself clear as ice keeps your knuckles from continuing to type in your password. 

It’s funny. You used to fight for them, then you’d flown as far away from him as your pathetic diner wages could get you. Clearly, only moving across a city you once thought to be so vast wasn’t far enough. You could move across oceans, and something in your gut tells you his ghost would only be a few steps behind. 

“You know, I still don’t get your issue with them, by the way. Are you just not big on rock music?” she asks, and you can imagine his offense and correction that it was metal, not just rock, “I get it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I don’t know. Just seems a little personal, the way you avoid them like the plague.”

It is personal.

Your vendetta is so, so very personal when it comes to Corroded Coffin. 

When it comes to Eddie Munson.

His name echoing in your mind finally has your fingertips slamming keys again, suddenly eager to bring up your email and prove Romina wrong. To get her as far from your desk as possible and end this conversation before you can spiral.

“I’ve never been a fan of that type of music,” you lie through your teeth. You had been. You had been their goddamn number one fan once upon a time. 

Your work email can’t load fast enough when she continues on, “I’d argue they have at least one song for everyone. You just gotta give them a chance.” 

No, the voice in your head screams. I do not need to give them a chance. I gave him a chance, and he blew it. 

“I’m sure there is,” you grit out, those knots in your stomach wound so tightly they might just snap, “But not for me.” 

Never for me.

They don’t know. No one in your life now knew about your past, about your ex, about the truth between you and Corroded Coffin. 

They didn’t know that you’d been their first fan, standing in that stuffy garage at the Emerson’s residency through the scalding Hawkins’ summers. They didn’t know how you’d spent every Tuesday and Thursday night occupying a stool at the Hideout that had all but your name engraved into it. They didn’t know the way you’d packed up your entire life, the way you’d only moved to this cursed concrete jungle to see all of their wildest dreams come true. They were unaware that Corroded Coffin had nearly turned down the tour that triggered their breakout for you. All because their leading rockstar hadn’t wanted to leave you behind.

Funny how life works out.

Romina is unaware of your discomfort as she leans down over your shoulder to peer at the list of new emails you’d received this morning, “Oh, oh! That one! Click that one!” 

Her long, blood-red stiletto nail taps at the screen excitedly, pointing out an email from your boss with an eye catching subject line.

Meeting at Noon — New Project Assignment. 

“Holy shit!” Ro exclaims, getting ahead of herself before you’ve even clicked on the email. You can’t click on it. You’re petrified. “Oh, holy shit! You definitely got the project! Are you fucking kidding me?” 

For a moment, you’re silent, staring at the screen in buzzing shock. It rings in your ears and it blurs the edges of your vision, the weight of the possibility finally causing the first snap within your chest. 

No. No, no, no. 

You don’t want this project. Not the rumored client, and certainly not the attention that it has attracted from all your peers. No.

“We don’t even know if it’s going to be what everyone says it will be,” you choke out, white knuckling your mouse. Romina can’t see your face — she can’t see the year of practiced indifference crumbling so easily, “It- It probably won’t be Corroded Coffin, Ro. It can’t be. They wouldn’t assign me something so huge. Th-They probably just have another wedding for me. Maybe another bakery opening up in town — I think I heard about one on Third Street-“ 

Ro’s hands come down on your shoulders, giving what should be a reassuring squeeze, but it only smothers you during your breathless rant.

“Babe,” she emphasizes, “This is a good thing.” 

It’s not. It’s really, really not. 

But you don’t know if the project is what everyone has been murmuring about. You don’t know for sure that the email has anything to do with it. The contents of what your boss had written to you have little to no specifics; nothing more than a request to come to her office at noon to properly discuss the details of this assignment. So you convince yourself it’ll be fine, that it really is just about that bakery opening up on third street. You convince yourself to shake away any thoughts of chestnut curls and honey brown eyes. You convince yourself to untense your shoulders and smile up at your coworker, faking enough enthusiasm to satiate her until she’s walking away from your desk giddily, taking her coffee cup with her. 

Your eyes avert to the expected coffee mark that had formed a perfect ring on your stark white desk. 

Stained. What a pesky thing to become. 

—

“I’m not going out tonight,” you repeat yourself for the millionth time over the line, pinching the phone between your shoulder and ear as you opened your fridge to dig around for whatever leftovers you might be able to salvage into a dinner for the night, “I don’t feel well.” 

“But we need to hear about the new project!” Ro’s chirp comes over the line. You can hear the buzzing of a bar in the background. Glasses clinking, strangers chatting. Hell, you could probably pinpoint the song playing lowly if you focused hard enough.

You weren’t focusing on the call, though. It was the last thing you wanted to offer up your dwindling attention to, desperate to get off the line and resume your very exciting night of cold pasta with a side of whatever sitcom was running old episodes on the television. 

The phone nearly slips from your half assed attempt to keep it against your cheek as you sigh, “It went fine. I already told you guys it did. Nothing exciting, okay? It was the bakery on Third that’s opening up, just like I thought it would be.” 

A lie.

The meeting went anything but fine. Your boss, Lydia, has just been plain secretive. And normally, that wouldn’t bother you, but it meant your worst fears were coming true. 

The bakery on third wouldn’t have needed such secrecy, and they sure as Hell wouldn’t have insisted on you signing an NDA prior to even meeting and discussing the event you’d be planning. 

“It’s all just precautions,” Lydia had insisted as she slid that damn paperwork over to you, “Just to protect the client. They’re a bigger name than we’re used to dealing with. If you sign, we’ll have a proper meeting with them tomorrow and dig into all the nitty gritty.” 

“You phrase it like I have a choice,” you had muttered before picking up the pen.

You knew you didn’t. And Lydia’s smile had confirmed it. 

Romina continues on with more convincing, but you’ve stopped listening. There’s not a single thing she could really say now that your mind was made up — you were staying in tonight. 

“Ro,” you finally snatch the phone back up into your hand, straightening out as you pick out a random tupperware that you think holds chicken parm from that fancy lunch date you’d gone on over the weekend, “I’m not coming out. I’m sorry.” 

Complete silence on her end. You worry for a moment that you had been too harsh. 

“Okay,” she finally gives up.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” the word continues to echo back and forth between you two, “That’s fine. I’ll just have to bother you about it tomorrow. At work. Where you can’t use bullshit excuses to escape me.” 

You consider snapping back about how you absolutely still could, until you consider the fact that you have a real excuse, “Good luck with that. I have a very real meeting with… with a client.”  

You don’t even know the name of the client, technically. You can only guess. 

You still hope you’re wrong.

“Right,” she laughs over the line, “See you tomorrow, babe.” 

“See you tomorrow,” you repeat back, staring at your now closed fridge before you’re relieved by the sound of a dial tone, signaling that she’s finally hung up. 

What you should do now is plate the leftovers, arrange yourself on your sofa, and numb your mind with The Office reruns. What you should do is leave well enough alone and continue in your delusion. 

You don’t. 

It starts innocently; you do transfer the cold chicken parm onto a plate and you do curl up on your sofa before flicking on the television. You do set the channel to the reruns. You do – and you swear you do it all with the best intentions. 

But then your mind wanders. 

As you stare straight ahead at the television, you’re not processing a single image that flashes across the screen. Your thoughts are a bit preoccupied with different images, movies and snippets from a point in your life that now feels like a lifetime ago. Conspicuous dimples making an appearance from across the room at a joke you had made, unkempt curls flying recklessly in the driver’s seat beside you on late night drives with the windows down, wild eyes shining like sunlight through a whiskey bottle as he catches your gaze from a stage much smaller than what he must be used to now. 

Everything from before. Before the not-fight, before the fame, before the move. Images of when Eddie had been yours and only yours, not yet a precious gem to have to share with the world. 

“Are you busy tonight?” 

Your locker had been slammed shut by a hand that didn’t belong to you, knuckles adorned with familiar rings and distinct callouses along the fingertips. 

“Hello to you, too, Eddie,” you smiled as you clutched one of the unnecessarily heavy textbooks to your chest, turning to face the boy who stood impatiently at your side. He was all jitters, rocking on his heels and nearly incapable of standing still as his body buzzed with excitement.

It rolled off him in waves, contagious as he leaned into you, “Yes, yes. Hello, sweetheart. How was your day?” you opened your mouth to answer him, but Eddie comically steamrolled right on, hands waving erratically, “Good? Good! Excellent! Now, are you busy tonight?”

“I was planning to study for O’Donnel’s test-“

“So you don’t have plans!” he exclaimed, throwing an arm around your shoulders as one of the annoying warning bells chimed. He may have been in an interruptive mood, but he knew you hated being late to class — less about being anal about punctuality, and more about the stares you’d practically burn under from the attention of other students when you’d barge in on the teacher mid-sentence, “Perfect. Absolutely perfect. In that case, I have fantastic news!” 

You allowed him to guide you amongst the bustling student bodies, only gaining a few stares from fellow peers, “You do, do you?” 

He nodded before he reached out and snatched that heavy textbook out of your arms, “Here, let me carry that for you, darling.” 

“Darling?” your nose scrunched, “Oh, no. You’re trying to sweeten me up. What did you do?” 

“Nothing!”

Liar. The crack in his voice would have given him away if his hyperactive energy hadn’t already done so.

“Oh, really? Then what’s your fantastic news, rockstar?” 

His grin that broke at your nickname for him could have destroyed the Earth you walked on just as easily as it could have mended it. Something groundbreaking, something to churn the dirt and raise the dead. Something made of pure sunshine and static happiness. But the only thing that cracked was your chest as it tried to contain the residual joy it felt for him in that moment. 

“Well…” he trailed off, leaving just enough room for a suspenseful pause that could have suffocated the room without that damn grin on his face, “Let’s just say you’re looking at the frontman of the Hideout’s newest Thursday night entertainment.” 

You took a moment to catch on, Eddie keeping you pressed closely to his side as the two of you stopped outside of your next class. 

“Thursday nights?” you questioned, brain working overtime to piece together what he’d just said, “Wait, I thought you guys only played Tuesda-“

When you had processed what he had meant, all that animated elation that had been consuming him became shared. Every jitter in his bones became your own, your own lips speedily spreading into a proud smile to challenge his own.

“Oh, holy shit,” you gasped, “You guys got the gig.”

One more bounce of his heels, curls quivering with the movement as his arms fell from you and the two of you faced one another.

“We got the gig.”

“You got the gig!” 

People had been staring more obviously at the sudden rise in volume from you, but you hadn’t cared. Because in that moment, all you focused on was the eager boy in front of you, and the way your broken chest mended from the same grin that had burst it wide open, only for it to swell with inexplicable pride.

“We got the fuckin’ gig!” he shouted right back, laughter slipping from between his lips that started to echo your own. 

You were the one bouncing then, hands instinctively reaching out to press on his shoulders in gentle slapping motions, unable to contain or conventionally express this pounding excitement. 

“You got the fuckin’ gig!” you were just parroting each other now, but you were just as delirious as he was as that final bell signaling you were late rang out. That certain embarrassment you were sure to have to face had become a distant memory.

Eddie had wanted this for a while. He’d been bugging the owner of the bar on the edge of town about Corroded Coffin earning a second night of residency for months, only taking the repeated rejections as encouragement to ramp up his convincing charm. You’d seriously doubted it would work, but had never voiced the concern aloud to Eddie. You’d always figured that the worst that could have happened would be another no, fuck off, kid. But the best that could have happened had been this — he would be told yes and secure his band two weekly performances at the Hideout rather than just the single one they played before. 

You didn’t know it then, but it was the first step down the path that would lead to inevitable heartbreak. 

“I haven’t even told the guys yet,” Eddie admitted once the two of you calmed down to the best of your abilities, “I… Uh, I wanted to tell them after school today. Was wondering if you might, I don’t know, maybe- do you wanna be there when I do?” 

And that made sense. Eddie inviting you made sense when you attended every single band practice in Gareth’s garage as religiously as he did. When you knew every word to their whole three original songs even better than him at times. 

He wanted you there. You were important to him, to the band, and he wanted you there. 

“I- Is that even a question?” you stared at him in disbelief, “Of course I wanna be there, you fuckin’ idiot. I can’t believe you told me before you told them, honestly.” 

His demeanor softened, the ghost of his exuberance still stubbornly lingering. But your eyes were on him, glowing with such high regard that it was impossible to not let it creep beneath his skin and trigger a blush across the bridge of his nose. All that love, all that pride. So genuine it could have made him cry. 

“Of course I told you first,” he whispered in a finally empty hallway, “You’re always the first person I tell any good news to, sweetheart.” 

When had you stopped being the first person he shared his forthcomings with? 

Probably the day you had decided to leave him, leave the entire life you two had built together, under the guise of best intentions. 

The TV continues to play as you stare at the wall, mind and heart alike locked up with nostalgia. The plate of leftovers has long since been sat down on the coffee table. 

You hadn’t let yourself reminisce like this since the very first night you had spent in your apartment. That first night, you’d allowed yourself to wallow. You had sat on this very same sofa, the entire apartment pitch black as you weren’t brave enough to turn on a single light and face yourself, and told yourself that any and all tears or regrets had to be purged that night. A funeral for all that you had lost, a single night to mourn all that you had left behind. 

Clearly, one night was never enough to let go of years of memories – of love. 

You don’t shut off the TV as you impulsively grab your phone, not thinking the action through before you do the one thing you had forbidden yourself from over the last few years; you’re going to Google search Eddie Munson. You’d created the rule as a make-believe step in the right direction. You told yourself if you didn’t google him, if you didn’t track down his every move after you’d left behind the damage done, then you could move on easier. 

From the first headline, you realize that it might have never been about moving on. 

FINAL NAIL IN THE COFFIN? HAS EDDIE MUNSON, LEAD SINGER OF CORRODED COFFIN, FINALLY GONE TOO FAR?

EDDIE MUNSON — ARRESTED AGAIN?

HOTEL COMES FORWARD ABOUT DAMAGES DONE BY ROWDY ROCKSTAR EDDIE MUNSON

HOW TO BURY A CAREER: A DETAILED TIMELINE OF CORRODED COFFIN’S EDDIE MUNSON’S DOWNFALL

“EDDIE MUNSON GAVE ME A CONCUSSION” - VICTIMS OF THE ROCKSTAR’S CLUB TANTRUM COME FORWARD.

Each headline sends your head reeling, eyes widening impossibly without even clicking on the stories. 

The boy you had known wouldn’t have done half of the things these accusations stated. Violence, trashing hotel rooms, public temper tantrums taken too far — it doesn’t feel as though you’re reading about someone you once knew, someone you once loved. The man in these paparazzi photos is a stranger, completely unrecognizable with his red eyes and middle fingers held high. 

A particular photo catches your attention. He’s standing outside what you assume is a club, in handcuffs. His hands are locked behind his back, an officer not far behind and his face bathed in glows of blue and red lights flashing from a car half blocking the camera’s view of him, and he’s grinning with dead eyes squinted to the sky. It almost looks as if he’s midlaugh — as if the entire scene was funny to him.

The one time he’d nearly been caught while pedaling drugs for Reefer Rick back home in Hawkins when you’d still known him, he had nearly burst into tears. Had panicked as he scrambled to shove everything, even just the weed, into every possible hiding place within his van. He hadn’t laughed in the officer’s face; he had been petrified, face transforming to that of a terrified little boy as you had told him to calm down and play it cool. 

You should stop scrolling. But you can’t.

Another photo, one that makes your chest echo with another hollow pang. It was clearly taken without him realizing it, the quality atrocious as the camera had attempted to focus in on him through a balcony sliding door of what must be a hotel. But despite the terrible blur, you can clearly pick out the details that were meant to be exposed. 

A speckle of white coating the ring of his nostril. Made even more obvious by that midday sun shining in on him. 

It was clearly the middle of the afternoon, and Eddie had clearly been caught snorting cocaine.

It’s a bit much. You haven’t even scrolled far enough to catch sight of all the pap photos of him with different women, or the photos of him clearly inebriated at major events that had been meant to celebrate him and the band’s success. You lock your phone, you set it down on the table with the screen facing down. You hardly recognize him. 

The reality is you had never googled Eddie for the same reason most won’t look at the corpse of loved one’s at open casket funerals – you wanted to remember him when things had been good. You had wanted to convince yourself that you still knew him, some version of him, and that he hadn’t become a total stranger.

But, really, you’d known the moment you had walked out of that once shared apartment that you had lost the privilege of knowing him. Of loving him. The moment he had stopped telling you that he loved you, you had known something between the two of you had died. Losing Eddie hadn’t been a sudden thing — it had been a long, painful, torturous process. When all that love and all that promise had died, it hadn’t gone down without a fight. He had smothered it, but you had provided the extinguisher. You had pushed him to chase after his dreams, and you should have never been surprised when he did exactly that.

You should have never been surprised that one day, the space you’d claimed residency in in Eddie’s heart would become nothing more than an annoying prick to him. A thorn in his side, sharp and threatening all that he had worked so hard to achieve.

So you’d left. You’d left, told yourself it was for the best, and exited with more love for the memory of a man than the tangible person on the other end of that terribly lonely dial tone – on the rare occasions he did call. 

You didn’t know him. It’s a truth you should have long since swallowed, but hadn’t. Not yet. Not in the last two years.

Your appetite is gone as you stand from the couch and grab the leftovers, only pausing on your way to the kitchen to scrape the waste off into the trash can. What a waste. As you put away the plate into the sink, not bothering to wash or even rinse away the crumbs, you immediately grab one of your few wine glasses and set it on the counter. Drinking wasn’t the wisest idea, but your body has begun to move on autopilot. And it seems convinced that feeling the buzz from alcohol would be better than the feeling of nothing at all. 

You didn’t know him anymore. And the space you’d still let him occupy in your memories, whether you’d wanted to admit it or not, was now hollow.

You turn your back on the glass, still numb and still reeling as you open the fridge and pull out a half empty bottle of merlot, cork half peeking out the top of the bottle. You can see that stained bottom half, almost half hidden in a weak attempt to preserve the wine inside. Maroon. Deep, deep maroon bleeds up and feathers at the edges of that cork as you pull it out fairly aggressively, carelessly tossing it onto the white countertop and not watching it bounce as you pour yourself a drink. 

In your hollow staring off into the distance, you don’t realize you’ve missed the glass in your pouring until the chilled liquid splashes at your knuckles – until it’s too late. You panic, grabbing at paper towels and rinsing off your hand in the same breath, but it’s clear that it’s a useless battle in cleaning up the mess you’ve made. 

The damage is already done. As you soak up the wine and swipe away, a pink-tinged blotch is still left behind. 

Stained. What a pesky thing to become.

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @conquerwhatliesahead92

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 22

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Sinuses are trying but I'm fighting!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

"There you are. Lots to go around," Frigga seals the top of another container. "It'll be a nice surprise, eh?"

"Uh, thank you," you offer a fragile smile.

"Of course, dear. I know how stressful it can be to care for the sick. Odin, my husband, had a scare a few years back. A heart episode..." she explains as she puts the large containers in a cloth bag, "it was a rather eventful family dinner, to say the least."

You let your smile fall. You're reminded of your father on the floor, lifeless, your mouth over his as you desperately tried to breathe life into him. The kitchen blurs around you as you revert to the horror of that moment.

"Darling," Frigga frightens you with a gentle squeeze on your forearm, "apologise if I said something."

"No, no, my dad will be happy," you roll the tension from your shoulders. "Leslie too."

"Leslie?" She prompts curiously.

"His nurse. Sometimes she cooks dinner so this will save her some work."

"Ah, a nurse. That must be expensive."

"A little," you admit, "I have some stuff to finish up on still..."

"Oh, don't let me keep you any longer. I know how demanding my son can be," she pats the bag and slides it to the corner of the counter, "this will be waiting for you."

"Thank you. Again."

You turn to go, little, reluctant steps as you venture back into the large house. Dread slows your feet like a ball and chain as you climb the staircase, pausing every few steps to listen. Mr. Laufeyson is lurking somewhere, like a snake in the grass, you know it.

You turn towards the library and pass the open study door. You peek inside and find it empty.  You press on and knock before you enter the library. Alone, you shut the door and let out a heavy breath.

Your heart is racing as if you've escaped some terrifying race. You go to the desk and sit, leaning forward to plant your elbows in front of the closed laptop and cradle your head. What is happening? You can't handle all this. You need to get it together. But how? You've never dealt with any of this before; the spreadsheet, the woman coddling you, and the man who looms in the shadows.

Shoot! You forgot about Ronan. He's due to finish soon. You should go check on him. You stand up and spin, stopping short as a figure fills the door frame between the study and library. You stare at Mr. Laufeyson like a doe caught before a speeding car.

"You have some time," he raises his wrist, checking his watch; the black band and the blue face, that little accessory that caused so much trouble.

"Um, yes, I was going to see the carpenter--"

"I've dealt with him. He's loading up his truck now," Laufeyson slithers forward, "you needn't worry about him."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. Laufeyson," you look down and open the laptop, stunned by the image on the screen. 

You expect your screensaver to cascade down but instead, there's a woman in a rather scant black and white outfit. Your lips part and you slam shut the computer. Your fingers rest on the lid as Mr. Laufeyson strides closer.

"Hope you don't mind I borrowed your laptop, my own was charging," he purrs, "bit of online shopping, seeing as my mother's hard work should save us some cost on culinary services."

"Mr. Laufeyson," you tremble, staring at the desk, "what..."

He hums and leans in, his fingers splayed wide as he places his hands on the wood, "what...hm?"

You steel yourself and force yourself to look him in the eye. You flinch at the darkness there and stutter. "Wh-what are you doing?"

He snickers and tilts his head, "I simply thought you earned a bonus with all your hard work," his tongue pokes out as he smirks. "It should suit you well..."

You take a step back, nearly falling into the chair as you collide with it. You can't hear above the pounding in your temples. No, it can't be what you think it is. He's not saying that. He can't expect you to wear that... that... thing. You stumble around the seat and scurry to the door, fumbling with the handle as his calm pursuit trails after you.

As you pull the door inward, it snaps back shut. His hand is above you on the wood as he pens you in against the door. You whimper and clutch the handle tightly, pressing yourself to the door as your heart hammers against your ribs. You shudder as his other hand curves around your waist.

"When it arrives, you will put it on," he commands, "and you will begin your duties as always."

"Mr. Laufeyson, please, I'm scared--"

"You needn't be," he purrs as he leans in to inhale your scent, his breath grazing your scalp, "you take orders rather well. I trust you will continue to do so."

"I don't--" you wisp as you brace the door, his fingertips poking into your side as he grips you tighter, "I don't want to..."

"Mm, pet, you should know by now," he loosens his hold on you and lets his hand stretch across your stomach, dragging it up to your chest as he brings himself flush to your back, "this isn't about what you want." He bends and nips your ear with a growl, "you wouldn't want to let dear old dad down, would you?"

You whine and twist the handle frantically. You're pinned to it as he continues to grope you, rolling his body against yours from behind as he groans. You're mortified as heat radiates from his touch and floods your veins. The flames lick at you and have you tingle as nuzzles you breathily.

"Didn't think so," he rasps and slowly draws away.

He backs away as your knees buckle and you slide down the door, crumpling against it. His shadow struts away as your hands shake and you watch them in a haze of shock. You're weak, you're stupid, and you're worthless.

You could scream for help, you could run out, you could try. But you won't because he's right. You can't. You need him more than he needs you.

💄

Mr. Laufeyson opens the door ahead of you, waiting patiently as he turns to watch you. You carry the bag of containers against your work bag down the hall as Frigga trails you. She informs you that she put a few extra goodies in as a surprise. You nod and thank her, trying not to show your discomfort as you near your employer.

"Thank you, mother, but I'm certain she is eager to be away," Laufeyson intones, "she has a loving father waiting for her at home."

You flinch. You still wonder if he'd witnessed that pocket dial or not. He's hard to read even when he's spelling it out clearly. You bid a final goodbye but scuff to a halt as Laufeyson stretches out an arm.

"Allow me," he takes the bag from you, his hand brushing yours before closing around the straps.

"Aw, Loki, my gentleman," Frigga preens, "darling, you have a good night."

You let him take the tote and your work bag. You precede him out the door, fluttering your fingers as if to shake away his touch. He follows you as his mother watches from the door. You keep your head forward as he comes close, sidling around you to open the passenger door before you can do so yourself. His behaviour sets you even more on edge. He's taunting you.

You get in and make yourself as small as you can in the seat. You refuse to look at him as you buckle in. He shuts the door and opens the rear one, placing the bags on the backseat before he diverts around the hood. He claims the driver seat, the car shifting slightly with his weight. He pushes the ignition and the car whirs to life. You fixate on the dashboard, trying to tamp out his presence and the memories nipping at your mind.

He clicks his belt into place and adjusts the mirror. He takes his time. You can tell it's deliberate. You don't understand him, but you're starting to. Everything he does is for his own delight, which he seems to draw only from your distress. You've never met anyone like him.

"A lovely day," he declares as he shifts gear, "wasn't it, pet?"

You blink and look at your lap, tracing a line on your palm.

"Now, don't be rude, I asked a question."

"Yes, Mr. Laufeyson," you mutter.

"You must be tired," his hand wanders from the stick to your knee, "why don't you close your eyes and enjoy the ride?"

"I'm okay," you fold your arms as he squeezes your leg.

"What is the matter, hm? You seem perturbed, pet."

You shudder and put your hand on his as it starts to crawl higher, "Mr. Laufeyson, please stop calling me that."

"I'm tired of your little game," he pinches the tender flesh of your leg.

"I'm not--"

"I've made myself very clear," he taps your leg before slipping his hand out from under yours, "I am interested and that's that. I am wealthy, attractive, I hardly see how it would be an issue..." he steers with one hand as he speaks to the road, "especially for someone like you."

It hurts. To have it said aloud. Not his intent, no, but your worth. Or, what you lack. Who are you to be picky?

You wiggle your nose and turn your face away. You don’t respond as your gaze pans through the window. Your eyes singe and your nose tingles. You feel like the little girl standing against the wall again. The whispers swirling all around you, fingers pointing, voices jeering…

The silence stretches the minutes to eons. You watch the streets pass and lean into each turn. Finally, he steers onto a familiar road. You’re almost there.

He slows and pulls against the curb outside your father’s house. You unbuckle the seat belt and he does the same. You glance up at him but he doesn’t notice. He gets out on his side as you hesitate. Before you can even get your door open, he’s halfway around the car.

You climb out, nearly colliding with the rear door as he swings it open. You sidestep it as he bends to reach within. He pulls out both bags, elbowing the door shut carelessly before stepping up on the pavement. You reach for your work bag and he evades your grasp.

“Ah ah, I insist, it wouldn’t be very nice to let you struggle with all of this.”

You pout. Nice? When has he ever been nice? He’s mocking you again.

“Mr. Laufeyson, please,” you beg, “I can handle it–”

“Go on, pet,” he motions ahead of him with the square tote, “it’s rather rude to refuse an offer of help.”

You cringe and shrug helplessly, throwing your hands up slightly. What else can you do but obey? He knows you have no other choice and he basks in that fact.

You turn and slouch, dragging your feet up the walk as he follows you. You search for an excuse to keep him outside. Some sort of out. He has to understand, your father is sick!

He trails you onto the porch and you stop at the door, facing him.

“I can get it from here,” you eke out.

“Nonsense, I don’t mind–”

“Please, Mr. Laufeyson, my father doesn’t feel well most days. He’s not fit for visitors.”

“I’ve come all this way. I know manners are hardly in vogue around these parts but it is only polite to invite someone in,” he reproaches.

You whimper. Why are you doing this? You don’t ask. You know already. He’s doing it because he can. Because you won’t stop him. You can’t.

“I don’t want you to go in,” you confess as you look down, “please don’t go insi–”

You hear the door, the loud groan of the squeaky hinges before the screen door hits your shoulder. You sidle out of the way and turn to Leslie as she pokes her head out. Her eyes flick up to Mr. Laufeyson and her forehead ripples in surprise.

“I was wondering what all the chatter was,” she opens the door wider, “what’s all this?”

“Um, Leslie,” you gulp, “I…” you blink and look at Mr. Laufeyson, “this is my boss. He just drove me home.”

“How nice,” she remarks, “that’s… him?” She steps out completely, “he’s your boss?”

“Loki,” he introduces himself, “charmed.”

“Me too, me too, I… Leslie, I help her father, I’m the nurse,” she explains.

“We brought dinner,” Laufeyson lifts the tote higher, “my mother wanted to send her well wishes. She heard about her father and wanted to help out.”

“That is so sweet,” Leslie fans herself, “please, sir, come in, come in, Charles will be so happy to meet you.”

Doom crashes down on you. You stand back as Leslie holds the door open and you only vaguely hear Laufeyson’s insistence that you go first. You move in a fuzzy sludge, barely aware of the world around you as your legs carry you on habit alone. 

You stand in the front entryway as Mr. Laufeyson hands over the bag. Leslie takes it with glee and hurries away. You sway and touch your forehead. You wince as he touches your arm.

“Mm, this place is… vintage,” he muses as he nudges you, “please, introduce me. I’ve heard so much.”

You breathe out shakily and curl your fingers into fists. You give a pleading look. You’re already too embarrassed to tell him the truth. He doesn’t want to meet your father and your father doesn’t want to meet him.

You surrender and turn cautiously. You meekly pass through the entryway, your father’s shoulders hunched over the table as he works on the puzzle. You shuffle closer, standing just behind the corner of the couch.

“Dad,” you utter, “um… this is my boss, Mr. Laufeyson. He, er, he brought us some food.”

“Eh, is that what she was going on about?” He snorts into a cough and covers his mouth. He makes no move to rise as he reaches for another piece.

“Charles, is it?” Laufeyson steps forward, stopping just beside you, “I prefer Loki. It’s a pleasure to finally meet.”

“Chuck,” your father snarls, “call me ‘Chuck’.”

“Of course, Chuck, I didn’t mean to presume.”

Your dad tosses the peace and scoffs. He coughs again and stands, adjusting the tub below his nose as he rounds on his visitor. Mr. Laufeyson doesn’t waver as your dad scowls in his direction.

“Wonderful home you have,” Laufeyson offers his hand.

Your father looks at his fingers then narrows his eyes at his face. Mr. Laufeyson is a head taller, though your dad is wider. He claps his hands against your boss’s and tries to jerk his hand. The effort teeters your father but does not affect the other man.

“You’re the one dressing her up like your little whore,” your dad sneers.

Mr. Laufeyson laughs curtly, “pardon?”

“Look at that skirt,” your father spits.

“Better than the rags you supplied,” Mr. Laufeyson retorts without pause, “I can see she didn’t get her manners from you.”

“What did you say to me, boy?” Your father’s face contorts with rage, “you come into my home and– and– and–” 

Your father coughs between each word until he’s racked and quaking. He grips the armrest as he leans forward and covers his mouth, unable to stop the fit. You go to help him but Mr. Laufeyson blocks you with his arm.

“He has his nurse,” he says brusquely.

“Please,” you beg.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you are,” Laufeyson lowers his voice dangerously as your father heaves, clutching his chest. 

“Fuck off,” your dad chuffs out.

Laufeyson snickers and sighs, “are you always so hospitable, sir?”

“If I wasn’t chained to this thing,” your dad clutches the tube trailing down his chest.

“Alas, you are,” the taller man shakes his head, “let’s not. We have a lovely dinner waiting for us. A real man might even be grateful.”

“I’m not hungry,” your father turns and drops onto the couch. “Choke on it.”

Mr. Laufeyson lowers his arm and takes your hand without a look. He drags you away from the couch. He pulls you level with him and commands you to lead him. You take him into the kitchen where Leslie stands by the stove, the radio buzzing on the shelf.

“Just gonna pop it in the oven for a couple,” she smiles, “hon, why don’t you grab some plates?”

“Yes, why don’t you,” Laufeyson urges, “we’ll sit down and have a lovely family dinner.”

[spicyclover]

Everyday by your side

Summary: Sometimes you need to wait for the right moment.

Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.

Thank you! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

You've been with Alex for almost three years now. Your relationship is perfect... almost. There is a detail that has been bothering you for several months. In your circle of friends, all are either engaged or married. Each of them found the soul mate who put the ring on their finger, yet after three years, Alex still has not asked you. Not that you want to or are in a hurry, but hearing your friend talking about weddings and stuff... You want it, too.

You tried to make him understand. After all, this is the third wedding you've attended, and you’ve been a bridesmaid. You sent him pictures of rings, announcements from your friends, and wedding videos, but nothing. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t seem disturbed or concerned about it. He is very busy with his round trips and all the work required to be a Formula One driver…

It’s not complicated to ask a question!

You pester yourself, typing frantically on your computer. Another of your friends just announced her engagement on Instagram. Here you go, one more. You sip your coffee before shutting down your computer and looking around you. You’re sitting at the entrance of Williams Hospitality. It’s Saturday, qualifying is about to start, and you’ve been catching up on some work late enjoying the marvellous Italian sun. People walk back and forth without paying attention. Fans run between the buildings to see the pilots or team members. You watch the journalists make their comments, the photographers take pictures, and you notice one of them taking a picture of you. You smile politely before turning your eyes.

They can be invasive…

You pick up your stuff and grab your bag. You walk to the garage where you’re going to watch the race. You know Alex is already there. The driver parade just ended. You quickly sneak in and pick up what you need before entering the part of the garage reserved for Alex. He talks with his engineers. You join his coach, who smiles tenderly at you before returning to his conversation. You wait for Alex to finish before waving at him. He rushes to you and kisses you quickly before getting in the car.

I barely had time to tell him I love you.

You sulk a little. Qualifying begins, and Alex manages to make good laps, which puts him in a good position for Q2. He gets to do what drives him into Q3. You’re happy, and the team is happy. You feel the excitement of the mechanics. They’ve been waiting since the beginning of the year for the car's excellent performance, and it’s today. You smile while holding the radio close to you. Alex is ready for Q3.

In Q3, Alex gets the fastest lap. He crosses the finish line. There are 3 minutes left when Checo crashes into the wall. It causes a red flag. The cars go back to the pits, and you wait. You all wait. Your boyfriend’s name is still first in the standings. Is it going to be his first pole? You look nervously at the screen. Sergio gets out of his car safely, and that reassures you. He has nothing. You’re not very close to Sergio, but seeing one of them crash into the wall always scares you. You’re afraid they’ll not get out of there in time or ever. The anxiety is tenfold if it’s Alex.

The wait is short as the teams announce it on the radio. Alex is on the front line for tomorrow’s race. The team exclaims joy, and you jump in joy, laughing. You are so happy. Tears even come to your eyes. You will have the team outside the garage and see Alex getting out of his car. His comrades congratulate him. You heard him on the radio, his cry of joy.

He sees you and beckons you to approach. You run up to him and jump in his arms. You are so happy. Right now, you don’t care about the cameras. You’re proud of him. Nothing’s going to ruin that feeling.

"I'm so proud of you." You whisper in his ear. Feeling his chest rising quickly.

"I love you." He says, taking your face in his hands. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to live with you. I want to experience life forever at your side. I want to be by your side every day, all day, for as long as I live."

You are moved by this sudden surge of love. You smile despite the tears of joy that flow down your cheeks. Your head caresses his hands. You can’t say anything.

"Marry me!" He says, blurring it out.

"What?" You ask, unsure of what you just heard. He laughs and kisses your lips before repeating it.

"Y/n Y/L/N, will you marry me?"

This is the question you’ve been waiting for months and months. He asks it in the middle of everything, in the middle of his world. The cameras are on you. Yet you’re alone in the world. You think you hear screams of excitement, but you can't hear anything. All that matters is him. Alex, the man you love. The men with whom you share your life, your good and your bad moments, your confidant, your lover, your best friend. You won’t believe this day is finally here. You smile foolishly, unable to say a single word. You end up nodding, tears take over and burst into tears in his arms. Your mouth finds him, and you kiss him. It’s the best day of your life.

"Yes!" You finally found words, laughing when you heard the applause around you.

[headspacedad]

You seem to know a lot about bunny behavior. My friend's bunny as a kid was allowed to roam her living room sometimes. It would specifically go up to people who were laying down, turn its back on them, and then do this very hard kick/launch thing off the top of their head. It seemed to do it more to some people than others qnd absolutely never to her little sister. We just assumed it was being mean, is there some sort of bunny code it was trying to communicate? It also liked biting people's earlobes and staring into the birdcage for hours so it wasn't exactly the most normal animal.

Thanks for the faith! I mostly just know about rabbits via living with some very opinionated ones over the years. Sounds like your friend had a very opinionated one as well and it was absolutely saying something with its flying launches.

What it was saying is a little harder to parse without knowing the details but I'll give it a shot.

There are two potential reasons I could see a rabbit doing that. One - them's fighting words or two - for play. It really comes down to context, which you have more of than me so I'll leave you to be the judge of which it might have been.

Rabbits are pretty social little critters. They'll pick up social interactions from their surroundings, especially if they're the only bunny around. Jumping around and at each other is a rabbit form of play (and courtship)

the rabbits in the above gif are courting. It could be that her rabbit was playing with the people they were launching off of (or courting them). I'm not sure how much rabbits divide up human bodies into different entities in their minds but a human head is about the same size as a rabbit, makes all the noises and is, at least in my case, often kissing and nuzzling them. They could have seen people's heads as something rabbitish enough to want to try to engage in play with. Excited rabbits love to dart, jump, leap and otherwise be energetic and interactive if they like the people around them and feel safe in the environment. Her rabbit could have been trying to find a middle ground between what passes for a rabbit's playtime and whatever kind of weird stuff humans' would count as play time.

Or the rabbit could have been feeling territorial and been kicking to establish their dominance. Put that ugly weird shaped rabbit on notice that it wasn't the boss of the place. Not necessarily mean, just feeling the need to be bossy.

Off the top of my head? Since the people were laying down and the rabbit was seeking them out and then launching off of them, it sounds more like playing. But it really comes down to context and how the rabbit was acting before and after the launch as well as whether it saw the human rocket pad as threatening or not.

As for nibbling the earlobes - sometimes bunnies forget that humans don't have fur and their grooming gets a bit too aggressive. Sometimes they see something that just needs biting. Sometimes they nip to tell someone to back off, they've had enough attention for now. Sam's got a bad habit of nipping my butt if I'm sitting in what he thinks is the way of his traffic pattern. Also I think he likes the way it makes me jump.

Considering I also sit in front of a computer screen and stare at it for hours I can't really judge what a bunny does in their downtime with a birdcage but I will add that a lot of rabbits sleep with their eyes open, so maybe it was napping. Maybe it was watching its daily soap opera. The mind of a bun can been pretty unfathomable sometimes.

Thanks for sending me this ask! I love talking about bunnies and their strange behavior. It's nice to get a question I can dig down into and have fun with. You've made me very happy and enriched my environment so thank you! I hope your day/night is as awesome as you are!

[distortsverity]

Hikari if she had a normal life, went to high school / university, and at one point got mad after a networking event between students and the League :

If you just opened this like I told you to, tie yourself down to whatever chair you're sitting in, because this email is going to be a rough fucking ride.

For those of you that have your heads stuck under rocks, which apparently is the majority of the student body, we have been FUCKING UP in terms of evening networking events and general social interactions with the League. I've been getting message after message about people being so goddamn AWKWARD and so goddamn BORING. If you're saying to yourself, "But oh em gee Hikari, I've been having so much fun with my friends this week!", then punch yourself in the face right now so that I don't have to find you on campus to do it myself.

I do not give a flying fuck, and the League does not give a flying fuck, about how much you love to talk to your friends. You have 358 days out of the year to talk to friends, and this week is NOT, I repeat NOT one of them. This week is about fostering relationships between us youth and the region’s professional hotshots plus their support, and that's not possible if you're going to stand around talking to each other instead of them. Newsflash you stupid pieces of shit: OFFICIALS DON'T LIKE KIDS WASTING THEIR TIME. OH WAIT, DOUBLE NEWSFLASH: THE LEAGUE IS NOT GOING TO WANT TO SHOW US THE ROPES IF WE FUCKING SUCK, which by the way, in case you're an idiot and need it spelled out for you, WE FUCKING SUCK SO FAR.

"But Hikari!" you say in a whiny little bitch voice to your computer screen as you read this email, "I've been cheering on our League at all the conference matches, doesn't that count for something?" NO YOU ASS HATS, IT DOES NOT. DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY? IT DOESN'T COUNT BECAUSE YOU'VE BEEN FUCKING UP AT THE MATCHES TOO. I've not only gotten texts about people being WEIRD (for example, acting braindead and saying stuff like "durr what's a Z-Move?" is not funny), but I've also heard about people cheering for the opposing team. The opposing. Fucking. Team. I don't care about “sportsmanship,” YOU CHEER FOR OUR GODDAMN LEAGUE AND NOT THE OTHER ONES. Have you never watched a single tournament before? Are you blind? Or are you just so disgustingly dense about what it means to make people like you that you think being a good little supporter of EVERYONE ELSE is going to make our League happy? Well it's time someone told you: NO ONE LIKES THAT, ESPECIALLY OUR LEAGUE. I will cunt punt the next person I hear doing something like that, and I don't give a crap if you report me, I WILL ASSAULT YOU.

"Ohhh Hikari, I'm now crying because your email has made me oh so so sad.” Well good. If this email applies to you in any way, meaning if you’re a little asswipe that stands in the corners during nighttime discussions or if you're a weird shit that does weird shit during the conference, this following message is for you:

DO NOT GO TO TONIGHT'S EVENT.

I'm not kidding. Don't go. If you have done ANYTHING I've mentioned in this email and have some rare disease where you're unable to NOT do these things, then you are HORRIBLE, I repeat, HORRIBLE PR FOR OUR SCHOOL. I would rather have four students that are fun and interesting chatting with our League officials than eighty clueless imbeciles. If you are one of the people that have told me "Oh nooo boo hoo I can't talk to them I'm too scared", then I pity you because I don't know how you got this far in life. With that in mind, don't show up unless you're going to stop being an embarrassment for our school. I swear to Arceus if I see anyone being a jackass at tonight's event, I will tell you to leave even if you're a straight-A battling prodigy. I'm not even kidding. Try me.

And for those of you who are offended by this email, I would apologize but I really don't give a fuck. Go fuck yourself.

- Your Class President

[wonderfuldeath]

.o| Seasonal Calendar |o.

Something New

• July 28 •

Warnings : Fluff, love, submission

Please, consider supporting me on Ko-Fi ! ♥

“- What is it?

- A contract.

- I can see that, but as far as I know, I've already signed your contract for this year?

- It's not that kind of contract.”

Jungkook frowned at Taehyung's words, before reaching out to look at the pages his lover was presenting to him. Time had passed, and despite the frustration, Jungkook had never dared put his hands against Taehyung, for fear of destroying this fragile little thing. But for the other side, it wasn't the same; the Kim was more than ready to take their relationship to the next level, without complaining too much about the situation. Jungkook put down his stylus, looking for a clue to the kind of contract Taehyung wanted to sign with him, before feeling his blood boil and his fingers tremble, he reread the title several times, several times the fine lines to be sure, before looking at his lover, a little lost. This kind of contract was something important, something he couldn't take lightly, and he wanted to be sure that Taehyung really wanted to become his submissive, looking for an ounce of shyness or something in his eyes. But nothing could make him think that Taehyung hadn't thought through all that might be involved.

“- Where did that come from?

- I told you I had strange fantasies. Well, my greatest fantasy is that you become my master. I want to be submissive to you, I want you to give me orders.”

Jungkook feels a long shiver run down his spine, as he lets himself go against the back of his seat, his fingers still holding the contract. And then a thin smile appears on the serious face of the boss, who seems to be taking in the game, after all, if Taehyung was sure of himself, who was Jungkook to spoil the moment. Jungkook picks up a fluorescent felt-tip pen, but also his black pen, before circling a few terms under Taehyung's curious gaze, leaning forward a little out of sheer curiosity. Today, the store was quiet, which was certainly why he'd decided to talk to her about it now, but it was also an opportunity for Jungkook.

“- I'd like to change some rules, if you don't mind?

- Which ones?

- In public, we stay as we are now. It's out of the question to act like this in front of people, I have too much respect for you.

- All right, then.

- Don't call me Master, call me Mister, or Daddy.

He can see Taehyung shudder at his authoritative voice, and Jungkook smiles even more.

- Only at home?

- Or when we're alone.

- Good.

- And finally, I'm also going to change what you've put on the bed, I want you naked between our sheets.

- Every night?

- Hu-Hu.”

Taehyung lets out a barely restrained groan, before watching Jungkook's pen come to sign the papers, which he tucks neatly away in the first drawer of his desk. The secretary gives a long, visibly pleased shudder as Jungkook agrees to sign the contract without too much trouble. When he's about to leave, Jungkook holds him back with a slight chuckle, indicating that he should come and sit in the chair again, under another questioning look from the young man, who does as he's told with perhaps a little too much glee, waiting for what else Jungkook wants to tell him. The tattoo artist turns the computer screen, revealing the drawing of the teddy bear, reminding Taehyung of the tattoo bet he'd done with Jimin. It had been redone, the bear was more in the style of Jungkook, with drips in the background, the red handcuffs were tighter around his paws, and a leash seemed to hold him to the ground, his provocative look even more visible. But what made Taehyung shiver more was Jungkook's little: Property, which seemed to please him.

“- I think you wanted a tattoo? But if you've changed your mind…

- No, it's perfect. Even more so than the old one.

- It's perfect. I'll do it tonight.”

Just as Taehyung is about to answer, the ten o'clock customer comes through the door, making Taehyung disappear into his office, flushed, trying to catch a breath he hadn't felt he could hold until now. The hands of the clock run, fast enough for Taehyung to forget they exist, and it's Jungkook who enters the office, stumbling upon a focused Kim, a pair of glasses he'd never seen on his nose before, and he has to call out to him several times to get a reaction.

“- Tae?

- Excuse me, I was doing the month's accounts, do you need anything?

- My last customer just left, I came to see if you were ready for your tattoo?

- Oh, yes. Coming right up! I'll finish my calculations and then I'm all yours.”

Jungkook grinned perversely, making Taehyung blush with real understanding, but he didn't take his words back, or try to, because it was true, he belonged to Jungkook and it was one of the most beautiful feelings he could experience. He quickly finished his long, boring calculations, as promised, before going to Jungkook's tattooing room, which was waiting for him with all the equipment laid out on the table, he took off his clothes, completely, after all the store was closed now, and Taehyung wasn't sure where Jungkook was going to tattoo him. He can feel Jungkook's burning gaze against his body, and he's not ashamed to get down on the tattoo table, lying on his stomach, right in front of his love.

“- Where do you want your bear?

- How about on my right buttock… Daddy?”

Jungkook grunts, watching his body invoke Satan, who gently vibrates him. His fingers go to caress it again, but this time, he manages to restrain himself, grabbing Taehyung's right buttock to start disinfecting it. The tattooing goes smoothly, even if Taehyung bitterly regrets having lost that stupid, cosy bet, he'd had the worst hour of his life, but when Jungkook finally stops, a slight sigh of satisfaction passes his lips, finally looking again at the tattoo artist, who comes to kiss him to make up for it.

“- Don't move.

- Do you need anything?

- I'll get the soothing cream, okay?”

A nod passes Taehyung, as he looks at the black wall, it was almost relaxing the atmosphere of the tattoo parlor, and he lets himself close his eyes. The cold liquid against his buttocks roused him from his slumber, making him moan softly as Jungkook's fingers massaged his skin. He closes his little eyes again, opening them a little abruptly when he feels his lover's fingers digging in, drawing a deep moan of pure pleasure from him, his body rolling against the tattoo table, his fingers clawing against the leather.

“- Oh Jungkook…

- Jungkook? It's just the two of us, isn't it?

- Humm… Daddy!”

The thump of Jungkook's hand slams against his tender flesh, and he lets out a louder noise, his head rolling against the table, trying to find more sensation, trying to give Jungkook back. The man climbs up against the poor creaking table, but he doesn't care, comes and licks his back, biting into the tender flesh. The romp is not tender, not romantic, it's animal, violent. Their bodies interlock under the scathing moans of the tattoo table, when at the end, both let go, the table no longer supporting their weight, breaking under both their cries of terror, Jungkook preventing Taehyung from really hurting himself, coming back a little abruptly to reality. Nothing broke, but Taehyung found himself with a splint on his wrist, and the duty of adding a table to the store.

“- Didn't I tell you?

- Didn't tell me what, Namjoon?

- That the screw was gone. I was sure I told you.”

[japanesedoramaandanimelover91]

#ninomiyakazunari_twitter

Part 1.

27 november:

Good morning everyone.

Tonight's #ONEDAY Episode 8 timeline is. 1 hour 6 minutes. 🙇‍♂️ I mean, we're already on episode 8 😳.

28 november:

Good morning everyone.

It's soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo cold. Take care everyone. 🙇‍♂️

29 november:

Good morning everyone.

30 november:

Good morning everyone.

During a meeting about the website. When it comes to making a website, it's all about this and that... Oh, no, it's still like this: ......? I'm going back and forth... However, we are making steady progress, so please wait a little longer! Please wait a little longer!

1 december:

Good morning everyone.

During a homepage meeting, when I was making a page to tie X together, my sister searched for mine,'What the hell is this? All she said was 'Good morning, everyone! I'm scared. I'm scared.She said, 'You're scaring me.It's up to each person what they think. That's fine. I was more surprised that the person making the homepage didn't see my post, and it was a peach tree.

2 december:

Good morning everyone.

My sister found out, 'You're talking about something'.

We will start delivering it tomorrow! Thank you very much!　　Editing!!!

#ThepeoplewhoupdateonSundaysat19:00

3 December:

YouTube re-launches today at 7pm, so if you have time, please visit 🙇‍♂️

#Thepeoplewhoupdateat7pmonSundays

4 December:

Good morning everyone.(2 times).

Today's #ONEDAY Episode 9 timeline is 1 hour 5 minutes! Enjoy: 🙇‍♂️

Ladies and gentlemen! Thank you 😭😭

5 December:

Good morning everyone.

6 December:

Good morning everyone.

I've been working with screens all day.Smoke went up from my head before my computer did. I even got chicken fever lol. But i'm still working on it, and i'll upload YouTube after 23:22 if you have time 🙈.

7 December:

Good morning everyone.

Today we have a new name for YouTube! Thank you to everyone who took part in the submissions and voting! Please watch the video to see what it's become: 🙇‍♂️ We'll do our best to get it out soon 🙈.

8 December:

Good morning everyone.

So.I'm changing the name of YouTube this time. It was decided by your votes, so... Please take responsibility. Please wait for me, I'm going to do it with such high purity. 🙇‍♂️

Also, a friend of mine seems to have won a tepee as a lyricist in 2023. I'm thinking of sending him something, what do you think?

Oh, wait.I've been a composer of the year. You've been bursting with talent.In this case, i'd rather receive something than send something.

9 December:

Good morning, everyone.

When i went to the site today, there were people who had cranked it up. ㊗️ When i looked at their faces when they were making their final comments, they all looked like they had completed their work, and although i was a little sad to see it end first, i was also somewhat happy. I'm glad i'm making artwork, i think so every time. 🙇‍♂️

Tomorrow will be a full day of hard work. But i'll do my best.

10 December:

Opanistar🎵

The theatrical (made-up) number plate reads."Don't fart". I want to tell someone, but it's hard not to grin when you're filming a serious scene where you can't say such a thing.

We look forward to working with you in the future!

I'm coming home now. Yes. I'm going to bed.

[blazehedgehog]

That was the first YouTube ad you've run, right? I assume you can't talk specific dollar amounts, but did it pay well? Is this a game changer for your future?

I've had a small handful of offers over the years. One I think I can talk a little about was I got contacted by Raid: Shadow Legends back when they were blanketing all of Youtube with sponsorships.

Since literally half of Youtube was doing ad reads for Raid and I was in a position where I didn't need what they were offering, I felt comfortable saying no. Their offer wasn't nothing, but it also wasn't, like, "this is so much money that I can't refuse."

I'm probably not even allowed to hint at how much they're paying me for this current sponsor deal, but I will say that circumstances are very different for me now and I'd like to get in to a position where I can live more comfortably. That's not to say I'm so desperate that I'll take anything I can get; I actually just had to turn down an indie developer looking to sponsor my next video, and I need recharge time after what a grind the Sonic Adventure 2 video felt like. But I am more open to the idea overall.

What I might be allowed to say is that most of the potential of a sponsorship like this comes from how many people actually click on my offer code and go through with the thing. I did (or will) get paid some amount up front, but the idea is to generate referrals.

And at the time of this writing it's too early to tell. It hasn't even been 48 hours as I write this, and analytics on this kind of stuff can be delayed quite a bit.

All I can hope for is that I did a good enough job.

Advertisers (and possibly the law) generally frown on you influencing too much on the ads you work on, so I probably shouldn't really comment on whether or not I think I did a good job, positive or negative. It was more that the video overall, as a whole, was very strenuous to work on, and I worked through many late nights, weekends, and holidays to get it done, even if that work was occasionally staring blankly at a computer screen and hyper-focusing on worry for 16 hours straight.

The last day and a half has been a lot of emotional highs (buzzing with excitement so badly I couldn't sleep last night) and heavy lows where I don't want anyone to talk to me.

In truth, I won't know the scale of how good or bad things are until probably closer to the end of the month, and then it'll probably be close to another month before I see any of these earnings.

I watched Nerdsync's video on "Whisper of the Heart" during production and I find myself reflecting on it a lot this last week. At the time I wondered if Scott was okay, because there's a lot of talk about the depression that can come with this work and the second guessing yourself and having to depend on others while you chase your dreams... This Sonic Adventure 2 video took a lot out of me in ways I don't think anyone was prepared for and I think I understand that video a bit better now.

Even if it's just a silly technical video that's 50% modding tutorial and isn't, like, this deeply emotional thing, it still felt that way during production, especially as I missed deadline after deadline and the weeks piled up. I feel like this thing took a piece of my soul, somehow. And hard work alone is no guarantee of success.

But I'm going to stop here. There's a lot of emotions I'm feeling about this that are screaming to get out and there might be other outlets for that I'll get around to eventually.

[starfirette]

Civilian!R working up the courage to ask Barbara Gordon out on a date.

🌸 Civilian! Reader x Oracle! Barbara Gordon

🌸 masterlist | requests are open!

🌸 this is young justice Barbara! Completely sfw with a gender neutral reader

Babs honestly didn't seem like she was even looking to date

So when you met her, you tried your best to stave off your growing crush

Barbara was really good at her job; so good it made you feel completely useless

Why are you even apart of this whole scheme? Compared to Barbara, your computer skills are mediocre at best.

Barbara knew the game inside and out, and she's been doing this for a couple years now

Maybe it's just that you're not used to using your skills for more extreme measures. Barbara can do it while watching Legally Blonde and eating Cheetos. So she's good at what she does

You never asked her what happened that caused her to be in a wheelchair. You'd eventually deduced that she'd been in an accident after seeing a few photos from what had to have been just years prior

But still you never asked

Barbara's is really good at making you feel important to the team; she's always thanking you

She's always telling you that you're a great help

She always reassures you that your presence is of course helpful, and that she wouldn't lie to you; if you were a hinderance then she and the others would have kicked you out

Your crush on Barbara just kept growing. You liked to do little things. It started by offering to bring food, bringing snacks and other goodies she couldn't resist

Eventually you started to pay extra attention to your appearance. You tried to dress nicely for her; neat hair, maybe some tinted chapstick just to make your lips look more ✨appealing✨

You kept your nails clean and short, hoping that she'd see them and think to herself, "Wow, Y/n sure has great hygiene!"

Working with her for a while really just brought out a new side to you

As your computer skills improved, your feelings for her grew. You always felt hindered by the unspoken-of attraction she felt towards Dick.

It seemed like Barbara didn't notice you at all. She didn't treat you any differently than she treated anyone else. You did your best to see this as a good thing; you tried to realize that she liked you and considered you a friend

But it did hurt to know that your crush would be one sided

Compared to all others...you felt subpar. Barbara is friends with aliens and gods and acrobatic hunks.

And you know what, that sort of messed with your head

You definitely put yourself down in the sense that you don't feel like you'd be good enough for Barbara. You're untrained, you don't have powers; you felt extremely ordinary in a group of such exceptional people

IN BARBARA'S MIND, HOWEVER

She thinks you're really cute 🥰

She notices when you're in a bad mood and she really tries to make you feel better

She didn't think of you in a romantic way at first!

You just became a good friend! You understood what it was like to be the guy behind the screen, watching the cameras and navigating the Team

Barbara doesn't think about the fact you've never been a "real hero"

As far as she's concerned, you're just as part of the team as anyone else

Your skills are invaluable

She couldn't do it alone

Oracle and The Mystic, Barbara and Y/n!

By the time she realized she'd liked you it's because Conner was being a little touchy with his attitude and he made a snide comment towards you

Of course you handled it pretty well but it made Barbara realize that she was angry Conner would even try to make a jab at you

Her own emotions and presented themselves as a protection mechanism and all for you!

She tried to drop hints

She tried to ask you out

But you didn't even realize what she meant. You two had spent so much time together that you assumed every hang out or outing was extremely platonic

Both of you wished in silence that every lunch was a date

So when the fuck were you going to just say something? Barbara had already tried and she failed and she didn't have the confidence to actually say the words "I like you like that" aloud

It was so intense that everyone started to notice

Everyone on the Team could see what was happening and no one really wanted to say anything.

Nothing really happened

There wasn't any major force or huge event that prompted you to ask her out for real

You had merely gotten a huge wave of adrenaline and you just

Did it!

And she said yes

And it was awkward.

It was painfully awkward. You sat there, too aware of your breathing, worrying you were breathing too loud; not sure how to sit; not sure where to put your hands, not sure which eye you should be looking at when you speak to her. Her left or her right?! How do people maintain actual eye contact?

Barbara ordered a pizza and some sodas

You two are and chatted carefully, choosing your words with such precision you might as well have been a robot

Nothing really went back to normal until you two worked side by side again.

You both realized that your relationship was built on the grounds of friendship. Though awkward to being in a new relationship, you could always talk to your best friend about it

So when you're in a relationship with your best friend, it's a lot easier

You two didn't really change

The dynamic might have flared a bit. You two just sorta became more physical

Holding hands, you rubbing her shoulders absent mindedly while she types away. And she would massage your wrists with her thumbs, tracing your veins as you talked about whatever was on your mind

Basically you and she just started to make out and have sex. Aside from that, nothing changed! Nothing was awkward. You got to date your best friend, and she got to date hers!

[twjournals]

The Right Place

This is the third and final part of the trilogy. I can not thank you enough for the endless support. I did not expect to even turn this into a three-parter, but you asked and you shall receive. You guys are amazing!

So Wrong It's Right

What's Wrong is Right

Warning: dark!Peter Parker x reader, dub-con, all characters are of age, pregnancy, abuse, mild non-con touching, violence

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: You're an old troubled friend of May's. Your life consists of being a workaholic, a party animal, and bringing home the shittest of guys for a one-hit-wonder. Just when you get your life in order, you're knocked right back into your old habits. Peter has watched you suffer long enough. He can make it all better.

Taglist: @discoverwhattheworldhastooffer

Your world was in shambles and any move you made to try and fix it only seemed to make what was left crumble. You did not speak with anyone since you had found out you were pregnant, not even May. You did not know what you could even say to her or how you could explain what was going on. You knew she would find out sooner or later, but you had planned on later. You could not even stomach the thought of telling her. It would not be easy and you knew you would probably lose her friendship in the process.

You avoided Peter as much as you could. He always messaged to check up on you, but you would never reply. You were disappointed in yourself. If you had just been the biggest person and moved on, if you had not have gotten drunk, you would not be in this situation right now.

Peter never gave up on you. He had hoped you would come around. That you would understand why your life was going in the direction it was. You needed to get away from the toxicity you surrounded with, especially Chris. You were meant for bigger and better things. You were meant to be more than a housewife. You were to be a mother, a lover, a soulmate. You deserved the world and he wanted so bad to give you it plus more.

You continued to shut him out though. You did not answer his phone calls or his text messages no matter how many times he tried. He sat outside on your fire escape many nights, listening to you crying yourself to sleep. It broke his heart to see you in this situation, but he wishes you would look on the bright side of things. Maybe it was not the greatest timing to have a baby, but it didn't mean your lives were ruined. Sometimes what we want is not always what we need. Sometimes change is required for what we need in our life and you weren't necessarily open to it.

He honestly had tried to give you your space. He stuck to the rooftop above you where you could not see him when you would finally leave the house for work. You always looked so beautiful to him, even if he knew you had been crying all night. If you would just answer his messages, he would not have to go this far.

Peter watched you many mornings on your way to work. He followed your bus all the way to the place he prayed you would never go. He kneeled on top of the building, watching as you stared sadly at the front doors of the clinic. He wished you would turn around. To save him from having to web you down before you got in the building. You were picking at your sweater. No matter the number of times you found yourself standing outside the clinic, you never could bring yourself to even reach for the door.

You were at war with yourself. Peter could tell you fought against the changes, but your heart could not bring you to stop them from happening despite how unhappy you were. It always ended with a sigh and with you proceeding to walk the rest of the way to work. Peter seemed to hold his breath until you walked away.

Work was always a drag now. You had nothing to look forward to anymore but everything in the world to worry about. You stared at your phone as it lay against the computer screen. You rubbed your face tiredly.

You knew it was time to let go of your past. You sighed deeply, taking your phone in your hands and clicking on Chris's old messages. You began typing.

Are you able to come by later?

You noticed he read your message right away. You sat your phone down, still staring at the screen when he responded back.

Of course. Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.

You told him you would message him once you got home. You were sure what time you would get off when it came to your job. You wrote a company and spent the hours necessary to do what you needed to do.

By the time your workday had finally ended, you were having mixed feelings about inviting him over. Being pregnant did not help your feelings from being all over the place. Your thumbs hovered over the keypad on your screen. You were hesitant. Even if he had said he respected whatever you decided, you knew he could not entirely mean that. You quickly typed out that you were home and hit send before you could give yourself time to think almost about it. Maybe you should have thought about it a little longer.

Peter was stuck at school for one of his night classes. He dreaded his night classes now more than ever considering your condition. He had already skipping enough classes due to worrying so much about you. He could not afford to flunk out of school now after all the time and effort he had dedicated already. As much as he wanted to keep an eye on you, he tried to give you room to breathe, to think, and process.

You pushed his bags in the living room by the door, straightening your sweater to keep it off of your stomach. You were not big to others, but to you, you worried if people can tell. You did not want to chance it and certainly not with Chris. You wanted this to go as smoothly as possible.

Your heart almost leaped from your chest at the knock on your door. You slid the chain from the lock and pulled the door open to see his face light up as soon as he saw you.

"Hey there, beautiful."

"Hi." You leaned against the door slightly as you moved out of the way for him to enter.

"I'm so glad you're giving this a second-" He stepped into the apartment, noticing bags of his belongings to the side of him and he grew quiet. "You're not giving me a second chance." He pointed out and you frowned slightly, still standing by the door.

"I think it is what's best for the both of us." Your voice was quiet and calm, but in your mind, it was the hardest thing possible for you to say.

"Is it?" His voice seemed bitter and you looked down at your feet, nodding slowly. Even without looking at him, you could still feel his eyes on you. He turned to face you fully and you hesitated to make eye contact with him.

"It is. I still want the best for you."

"Do you not believe I can change? I don't understand. What can I do to change your mind?" He pressed.

"Please don't think I haven't given this a lot of thought. It consumes my mind to no end. I just need to focus on myself right now."

"Imagine that." It was silent in the room and you glanced at him, only to find him shaking his head with a snicker. "It's not what's best for the both of us. Not for me. This is what's best for you. Can't imagine how I even thought you could be anything but selfish."

"Chris, I just want to keep this civil."

"Good for you." He pulls the door from your grasp and slamming it shut, startling you. "That's all you've ever been, hm? You're gonna have to lose that mindset if you plan on marrying me."

"I don't-"

"You will." He corrected, moving so close you could feel his breath across your face. "I put too much time into this for you to walk away from me."

You swallowed hard. The man who stared back at you was far from familiar. You tried to step around him but he only pushed you back into your place between him and the wall.

"Goddamn it, just get your stuff and go!" You raised your voice and he slapped his hand hard across your cheek. It was strong enough to make you see stars in your eyes. You yelped at the impact and held your cheek as it stung in pain.

"You watch your fucking tone." He stared down at you. He had never hit you before in the years you had been together. He never raised a hand to you, but then again, he never raised one for you either.

You could not imagine how much worse this would get. You left sick to your stomach when he grabbed your chin, tilting your head upright to look at him, stroking his fingers across your stinging cheek as his eyes flickered over your face in thought.

"Truth to be told, I think it's you who needs to change. I put up with so much from you. You had me in the beginning. Thought I was getting this wild, sex-crazed wife, oh, the fun we use to have. The drunken nights." He stiffed a laugh as he let his free hand grab the end of your sweater. "You really had me fooled, didn't you sweetheart?"

You were scared to move. Scared that one wrong move and he would hit you again, maybe worse. You closed your eyes, hoping Peter would answer your prayers. You regretted how much you ever took advantage of his kindness. How long you acted like you never noticed. You had always noticed. You felt his hand push underneath your shirt, and his gaze grazed over your stomach.

You noticed the way his hand froze against the small curve of your rounded stomach and he instantly lifted your shirt to see the problem. Your vision was blurred from your tears as he stared at your stomach with wide eyes. You could tell he was getting pissed.

"Really looks like you've been focusing on yourself." He lets your sweater fall back down over your stomach. His grip was still firm on your jaw, giving you no choice but to look at him. "You have some nerve to leave me. I could bet money it's Parker's. It is, isn't it?"

You could not bring yourself to admit it, but you did not have to.

He shoved your face from his hand, causing you to hit your head hard against the wall as he let you go. "You fucking make me sick."

You tried to keep your sobs quiet, listening to his footsteps moving away from you, listening to him jerking his bags up. "Better it's his problem and not mine." He muttered before slamming the door shut behind him.

You pulled your knees to your chest as you sat up against the wall with a sob. You didn't realize how much you needed Peter until now. You were sure he would have been successful if Peter had not have stopped. You hugged your knees as you tried to catch your breath in an attempt to calm yourself down.

After a moment, you took a deep breath as you pushed yourself to your feet. You let out a whimper quiet, feeling mild cramps in your lower stomach. You frowned as you turned the lock to the door, pressing your forehead against it as you held your stomach from the pain. It only seemed to worsen the longer you stood there. You weren't sure what was going on, but you had a feeling whatever it was, it was not good. You stood like that hoping the cramps would ease, but they never did.

It was close to the end of class when Peter's phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out of his phone slightly to see who it was. He glanced up at the professor who had still proceeded with his lecture and Peter lowered his head to answer. He knew something had to be wrong if you were calling him after all this time of avoiding him.

"Y/n? Is everything okay?"

"I think something is wrong." You whimpered quietly and he raises an eyebrow slightly.

"What do you mean "wrong"? Is the baby okay?" He looked up at the teacher who was making eye contact with him now as he talked.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

That was all it took to get Peter moving. He grabbed his books off of his desk and tossed them in his bag while he scrambled from the classroom.

"It hurts." You rubbed your lower stomach like you always did when you had cramps before. Cramps were normal, but with being pregnant, you could never be too sure what they really meant.

"I know, love. I'm so sorry. Hang tight. I'm on my way." He reassured you as he sprinted out of the building.

---

You lay back on the hospital bed, sighing as Peter ran his hand over your bump in gentle circles. For once, you let him. Your cramps had surprisingly lessened since Peter had shown up, but he did not want to take any chances. It was better to be safe than sorry. He was so worried about you and the baby.

Nurses had been in and out of the room, doing blood work, swabbing, anything necessary to get to the bottom of this. Peter was quiet as he sat on the side of the hospital bed, focused on the massage he was giving your stomach. This was the first time he had touched you since the night you found out you were pregnant.

You could not help back to smile slightly to yourself as his long gentle fingers worked over your skin. He must have sensed your stare because it was not long before his eyes glancing up to meet your stare.

He raised an eyebrow curiously. "Is this okay? I'm not making it worse, am I?"

You shook your head. "It's fine. I'm just watching."

He smiled at you while he continued his massage to your tummy. His eyes looked toward the door when a nurse came in, rolling some equipment over to the bedside.

"Miss. Y/l/n, your lab work should not be much longer. If you do not mind, I would like to do an ultrasound to check on the baby. Is that okay with you?"

You nodded and Peter took his hands back to let her work. She rolled over a chair, taking some gel and squirting some across your lower stomach. The nurse rolled the transducer over the gel and smearing it in as she applied some pleasure in search of a heartbeat. You watched her roam your stomach, biting your bottom lip. Your eyes widened slightly when the sound of the baby's beating heart filled the room. Once the nurse got a clear view, she turned the screen to show you and Peter what she was seeing.

You looked over at the monitor, your heart fluttered slightly at the first sight of your baby. That was your baby, even if it was only a little bean now. You could not stop the smile from forming on your lips. This little bean was life was growing inside of you. This brought a whole new light to your pregnancy. It was like a light had switched on. You did not know how to explain the overwhelming feeling. It felt more real after seeing him or her.

Peter was just as taken back as you. His grin never faded at the sight of your baby. It only made him 10x more eager to be a dad.

"Look at that. Already looks like me." Peter teased and you giggled, considering he or she was not much more than a heartbeat at the moment.

"I can definitely see it." You grinned as Peter rest his hand over yours, sliding his fingers between yours. He brought your hand to his lips before pressing a kiss to the back of it. You watched him kiss your hand and shivered slightly. You did not know what to think of everything at this point.

The nurse checked the baby's heartbeat before turning to the computer behind her and check your lab results with a quiet hum as she scrolled through your charts.

"Well, it seems like everything is just fine. Your baby is certainly healthy and has one of the strongest heartbeats I have ever heard." You looked over at Peter and he only grinned. You could thank Peter for that and all of his spidey senses.

"Your blood pressure was pretty high though and considering your history, your blood pressure has always been perfect. Have you been stressed out lately?" She looked back at you and you nodded slightly.

You were ashamed at how stressed you had let yourself get. "Well, I won't ask for details but if it is anything I can help you with, I would be happy to help. If not, I would stay to keep the stress to a minimum. Your baby does feel anything you feel, so some things can be too much and really take a toll on them." She explained. "Think of this as your baby reminding you to breathe."

You smiled, feeling Peter giving your hand a warm squeeze.

"If your blood pressure does continue to be high, we will see if we can do something to help." You nodded again as she made out some prints of your ultrasound and handing them to you. "If you don't have any questions, I'll let one of the other nurses know and they can keep your paperwork ready for you to go home." She took a paper towel and wiped your stomach clean before tossing it.

With that, she gathered up her equipment before rolling it out of the room with her. You pulled your sweater back down over your stomach.

"Hear that. Now do me a favor and leave all of the worrying up to me." He looked up at you as your eyes stayed glued to your ultrasound prints. His eyes flickered over your face, landing on the bruising mark on your cheek. He reached up, moving a piece of hair back of your face to get a better look. You flinched at the contact. Peter seemed taken back by your flinch.

"What happened? How'd you get that?" You kept your head down with a small frown.

"I invited Chris over to get his stuff. He thought I was taking him back. He didn't take it well." You explained and his eyes widened.

"He hit you?!" You reached Peter's hand as he started to jump up from the bed. "I'll kill him. I swear to you-"

"Peter, please. It's over with now." You assured him, tugging his hand to pull him back to the bed to sit down again. "He's not worth it."

Peter frowned, letting out a deep sigh before leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. He did not want to stress you any more than you had already been. "I'm sorry he did that to you. I wish I could have been there."

"Honestly, I needed this. It made letting go of him a lot easier."

"Was that all he did?"

You grew quiet.

"Did he..."

"No, he didn't." You shook your head after he could finish his sentence. "He saw that I was pregnant and left."

Peter tried to keep his composure as his fist clenches out of your sight. He could not imagine how someone could lay a single finger on you with intentions to hurt you. He was quiet. He was trying to hold it together for your sake.

"He didn't say anything?"

You stayed quiet for a moment, rubbing your thumb across the print. "Just that he was glad it was your problem and not his." You shrugged your shoulders slightly. "Even though it's not a problem, I am glad it's you and not him. I can't imagine what it would be like to have a baby with someone that selfish."

His clenched fist loosened at your words and his eyes softened. He could not believe his ears. Were you really saying this?

His cheeks blushed a deep shade of red. "You mean that?"

You smiled at him with a nod. "I do. You're so selfless and care so much about what you can do for others. Even though I've been selfish, you still stuck by my side. I honestly couldn't ask for a better father for my baby."

His smile widened as he looked at you, resting his hand on your small bump. "Our baby."

You rested your hand on top of his with a smile, nodding your head. "Our baby." You agreed.

---

It was not long after that the nurse gave you the okay to leave. Peter had stopped to get you something to eat before he took you home. He wanted to make sure you had been fed. All of the little things like this had slowly pulled you closer Peter. You were not used to how observant and patient he was. As much as you knew how wrong your whole situation was, you could not help but to give in to it. Despite your age, Peter had treated you better than any other guy you had been with. Even better than the one you had been with for years. Peter was the blessing you never knew you needed. He was the blessing in disguise.

He held onto your hand, walking up the steps to your apartment and using the keys to unlock the door for you. He didn't expect you to let him stay. All he wanted was to make sure you were okay before he left you alone.

"Thank you for everything." You looked up at him as you both stood in front of your door.

He smiled down at you. "You don't have to thank me."

"You know I owe you."

He rolled his eyes playfully. "You don't owe me anything. You're having our baby. I consider that payment enough." He teases, his hands resting on your waist. He could not help but touch you. In every possible, he would if he could. Your cheeks blushed at his response, looking down but Peter let his finger hook underneath your chin to tilt your head back up. Your lips were barely an inch apart when the moment was quickly ruined.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" A familiar voice pulled you from your moment, making your heart sink to the pit of your stomach when the realization hit. You did not even have to look over to know it was May. Her face was red in anger when your eyes met hers. "You ignore me for weeks and when I come to check on you, you're smacking lips with my nephew?! What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Your lips parted to say something, but no words came out. You did not where to begin with explaining yourself to her. You knew this was all wrong, but it was all too late.

"I thought you were hurt, but obviously, you're perfectly fine." She was fuming.

You never wanted her to find out this way. You wished you had more time to think about it and figure out a better way, but this was it. This was the moment of truth and you were terrified to lose your best friend. You felt tears forming in your eyes and Peter frowned.

"Aunt May, stop."

"Stop?! I'm not going to stop! You're not going to use my nephew so you can get over your worthless ex-boyfriend."

"Aunt May!"

You fought to hold back your tears until you could not anymore. You felt the tears running down your face. As much of a low blow that was, you felt you deserved to hear it. "Peter, i-it's okay." You struggled to form your words. You were hurt, embarrassed, ashamed.

"No, it's not." He shook his head, pointing a finger at May as she stood only a few feet distance from the two of you by her car. "You've gone too far."

"I don't understand how you think this is okay, Y/n." She shook her head, ashamed at you.

"I didn't expect for it to be like this. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." You confessed.

"Just like you never meant for all those one-night stands to happen huh? I trusted you!" She yelled, making you flinch. You hung your head in defeat, glancing at Peter with sad eyes before going inside. You could not stomach the rest of the conversation without sobbing. You tried to calm yourself once you were inside.

"That's enough!" Peter yelled suddenly. "I am capable of making my own decisions. I don't need you to decide what is best for me, Aunt May. I'm not here against my will and neither is she."

"She's supposed to be my friend." She didn't know what to make of this.

"You're supposed to be my Aunt! You knew how hard I crushed over her. For years you knew."

"I thought it was just a crush."

He moved closer to her in the parking lot. It was never just a crush. He was head over heels for you. "I love her. I've always loved her. You're can either respect it or accept it, because it's either way, she's pregnant and nothing is going to change that." He stood by her car.

Her mouth fell open in shock. She did not know what to think. Never in a million years would have thought this would happen, but then again never would have you.

"Pregnant?" Her voice was quiet.

He nodded. "I'm gonna be a dad, Aunt May." He pulled his copy of the prints out of his wallet and showing them to her.

She was at a loss for words. He was right. There was nothing she could do about that. May stared at the prints for a moment, trying to process everything in the short time it had all happened.

"Peter... I don't understand..."

"She almost had a miscarriage today because she's been stressing herself out over Chris. You're not going to take this away from me." He looks down at her, taking the prints back from her." He looked down at her as she stared back with a small frown. "Go home, Aunt May before we both do something we'll regret. You can come back when you're ready to apologize for this." He held the car door open for her and she hesitated before slowly getting in the car.

She knew she was in the wrong for how she had handled things, but Peter did not give her the chance to even risk making things worse. Peter felt deep in his heart despite everything she would come around. She would realize how happy you made him and she would accept it, but for now, she needed to leave.

Peter walked back to your front door, knocking on the door with a sigh. After a few moments, you moved from your spot on the couch to answer the door. You opened it slightly to see Peter and you glanced behind him at May's car pulling out of the parking lot.

"How are you?" He frowned when he saw your red watery eyes.

"I feel awful."

He sighed when you finally let go of the door and he stepped inside of the apartment. He let the door close behind him. His arms wrapped around your body instantly, pulling you against mine as he hugged you, resting his head against yours and kissing the top of it. "I'm so sorry. I know it's hard to believe now, but she'll come around. Just give her some time."

"She was going to find out sooner or later. I expected that reaction. I just wasn't prepared for it right now." You pointed out as your head rested against his chest, letting him hold onto you.

You closed your eyes, listening to his heartbeat. You relaxed in his arms. Your eyes were burning from all the tears shed. Peter scooped your body up in his arms bridal style, carrying you down the hall to the bedroom. He laid you down on the bed, sliding into the bed with you as his arms naturally found their way around your waist. Your head fell to his chest as you got lost in your thoughts for a moment.

"I'm starting to think I can never make the right choices." You admitted, laughing slightly to yourself and Peter tilted your head up to look at him.

His lips pressed a kiss to your nose. "Sometimes, the wrong choices bring us to the right places." He assured you before leaning in to close the space between your lips and kissing your lips.

He was true to word. No matter how much you held yourself back, every wrong choice you had ever made in your life brought you to this moment with Peter. This opportunity with Peter to finally get your life right. It was your chance to allow yourself the happiness you knew you both deserved.

End Credits Scene

He was not sure how long he had been sitting with his wrists and ankles restrained to a chair in the middle of a dark room. Maybe hours. It even could have been days. He was not sure. His eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the light that poured into the room when he finally heard a heavy door open.

"Oh good, you're awake." He was covered in sweat from fear and the heat of the closed-off room. He could make out bits of a red and blue suit. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him. When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, his eyes widened at the sight of Spiderman in front of him. He did not understand what was going on. Spiderman is supposed to save people.

His mouth was covered with solid webbing so he could not speak.

"I'm sure you're wondering why you're here." Peter moved closer to him as he spoke. He leaned down, ripping the webbing from Chris' mouth and making him cry out in pain from the grip it had on his skin. "You see Chris if there's one thing I hate, it's people who hurt the people I care about."

"W-What are you talking about? I haven't done anything."

"Don't play dumb." Peter gritted his teeth underneath his mask, backhanding Chris across the face before gripping his jaw. "You know exactly what you did, but that's okay because it won't happen again. You'll never touch Y/n again. I'll make sure of that."

Blood dripped from Chris's mouth from how hard Peter hit him. "I should fucking kill you for putting your hands on her." He smirked to himself when Chris starts squirming under his grip. "But I won't."

"I won't. I won't touch her again. I swear-"

"Oh, I know you won't." Peter let go of his jaw before backing up towards the door again.

"W-Where are you going? Aren't you going to let me go?" Chris started to panic as Peter pulled his mask off for Chris to see his face. He wanted this to be the last thing he saw if he died and the thing he would definitely remember if he lived.

"I didn't say I was going to let you go. I said I wasn't going to kill you." He smiled and Chris's mouth fell open slightly at the sight of Peter Parker standing before him. "I was thinking we could make a game out of this. I hear you like games. Let's see just how important you really are. I'm gonna leave you here and we're gonna see if your friends succeed with their search party if they even send one out. I can't imagine what they would care about scum like you for, but I guess we'll see. I give you about 48 hours before your body finishes you off itself. That should give you more than enough time to think about what I've said. That's if you do make it and I don't really have faith that's gonna happen, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to get the hell out of New York. I promise to you if ever see you again, I'll kill you."

Chris swallowed hard as Peter stood in the doorway once more, the sun outlining his figure at the door. He was scared of the possibility of not being found. He was furious that a guy like Peter was capable of putting him in a situation like this.

"They'll find me and when they do, you're a dead man, Peter Parker." He pulled at the restraints on his arms with all of his might but he did not stand a chance against the webbing. Peter made it look so easy.

Peter grinned at Chris's promise. He loved the challenge. The possibility that even if someone did find him, he would have the pleasure of killing him himself. It amused Peter that Chris could even have the nerve to threaten him in the position he was in.

"Well, let the game begin." He gave a wave as he started to pull the door closed. Chris yelled to the top of his lungs until the heavy metal door ceased his screams.

[itsthestutterforme]

Not Forgiven (Shang Chi x reader)

Summary: Shang Chi left Y/N to protect you but you never forgave him

Notes: GIF is not mine, SMUT (oral sex- f recieving)

--

Xiaoling's figure darkens the doorway to your office, knocking lightly to get your attention. Your eyes snap away from your computer screen. "Yes?" "He's here," she says. "I'm sorry, who?"

"Shang Li. You know him by Sean." A breath hitched in your throat. You hated how he still had that effect on you. Its only been a year since he abandoned you.

You've made great strides towards your healing. Or so you thought. Now that he's here. Its like you're the same disheveled person that you were after he left.

"You want a piece?" She adds. "Hell yeah," you stand from your desk and closed your computer. You follow her to the arena and she says, "I call dibs on the first few hits. I'll take care of him in the ring and you'll wait for him in my office. " She instructs.

"Sure thing boss," you walk into her office like she states and waited for the fight to start. A surge of warmth floods your body when you see Sean shirtless in the arena.

He looks around to get a feel for the environment when his eyes settle on you. Your cheeks burned with anger when you feel your heart flutter.

"Y/N?" He starts. You walk into the corner of Xiaoling's office and out of his sight. "No, wait, Y/N." He calls after you and you silently curse yourself when you stop and look over your shoulder. "I--" the door opens and his eyes snap to his scorned sister.

"Xiaoling?" She rushes toward him and kicks him in his jaw. There was something satisfying about watching him suffer for a little while. "Why are you doing this?" "Because you did what you do best. You abandon people." She says before lunging toward him again.

You turn away from the fight and look along the skyline from the view of her office. The fight was over in less than five minutes. Some guards brought Sean's unconscious body in and set him on the couch. They brought in his friend along with him.

Xiaoling entered the room with a smug smile. "Nice one," you tell her, offering a hand to which she slapped. "Thanks," Sean groans as he slowly comes to. "Sean, are you okay?" The woman asks. "Yeah, I.." he trails off when he looks at me leaning against Xiaoling's desk.

"Why are you here?" Xiaoling says, stepping in front of you protectively. "Some of Dad's goons attacked me and Katy on the bus. They took my pendant. Which means that they'll be after yours. Both of yours." He explains, settling his gaze back on you. "I can defend myself and Y/N shattered hers years ago." Xiaoling explains.

You sigh softly before lifting the fabric of your jeans around your ankle and unlatching the silver chain with the pendant. "I'm sorry. I couldn't." You say softly. You place it in his warm hands and avoided everyone's gaze before rushing out of the room.

You rush passed Wong and he noticed you were in deress. He caught your arm and asked if you were okay. Wong mentored you when you stumbled across Sanctum Sanctorum. He's like a big brother to you. He was there when you met Sean and stayed by your side after he left.

"Sean. He's here." You tell him. "Are you alright?" You shake your head no. "Come on, I'll take you to get some ramen." He states, swinging an around you. The building shakes and lights winked into darkness. "What the hell?" Adrenaline courses through your veins and the only thing that came to mind was Sean.

"I have to make sure he's alright. Go find safety." You tell Wong. "Be careful," "I will," you rush into the room to see a wide hole in the window. Xiaoling, Sean and Katy were gone. "Oh God," you rush over to the door and peek out to see Sean and Katy in the construction work scaffolding.

"Oh thank God," men in masks invade the scaffolding to get Sean and you decide to jump out of there. Sean was holding Katy by the hand to keep her from falling off the side but when he was electrocuted, she slips from his hand. She shriek in fear but Xiaoling catches her and brought her to safety.

Xiaoling crawls up the metal pipe. "You left us to die!" Sean scolds. "Now you know how it feels," jumping out of the window, you slide down the metal pole to help Sean and Xiaoling. You jump up on a metal pole and use your momentum to kick a man off of the side.

Sliding on the floor, you use your legs to trip two men and kick them both threw the window. Sean lost his footing on the floor below you and fell off the side. "Sean!" Katy calls after him. Using the portal ring, you open up a portal for Sean to fall through and open another one next to you.

The portal actually opens above you and Sean lands right on top of you, his face inches from yours. "Y/N," flash backs to when he would kiss you good morning in the exact position you were in.

You tap your wrists together and pull back to make a shield against the men rushing towards you, pushing them all off the side.

"Thank you," he says, not moving from his place and resting his forehead against yours. Naturally, you both close your eyes. "You shouldn't have came here," you finally speak to him for the first time in years.

"I came to protect you. I had to leave before to protect you." He rubs his nose against yours, just ghosting over your lips. "I didn't need your protection."

Trapping his leg beneath yours, you grab his shoulder and thrusted your hips to toss him on his back beside you. You knew that Jujitsu would come in handy. "I missed you," you ignore your heart fluttering in your chest and chose not to say anything.

You back flip off the side and make a portal in the scaffolding.

**

Sitting on one of the tree branches in (), your legs aimlessly dangle as you hum a song to yourself. The water dragon peeks it's head along the shore line of the lake to take a big puff of air. Water splashed everywhere and some mist kissed your cheeks.

He sniffed in your direction and you made a clicking noise. He followed the sound to you and flew up to meet you. Holding out your hand invitingly, he push his nose into your outstretched hand with a low chuff.

Smiling up at him, he moves so his nose is nudging into you chest. The movements knocks you off balance and you hurtle toward the hard ground, your hair covering your face on the way down. You were moving too fast to make a portal but luckily the dragon catches you on its head.

Chuckling lowly as you catch your breath, Katy approaches you. "Y/N, you- whoah, what the hell is that?" "He's a water dragon. Isn't he beautiful?" You scratch the scales on top of his forehead and he grumbles. "Another other day and I would have passed out." Katy explains, making you chuckle a little.

"What's up?" "I know you still hate him and all, but could you talk to Sean. He's.. he's talking all weird. He says that he needs to kill his father." She explains. Making a portal above you, you jump into it so you land right next to her.

"What makes you think that I could help?" "Because he still cares about you." She states. Your mind drifts off to when you and Sean were in the training room of his child hood home.

Tracing your fingers over the grooves, Sean approaches you from behind. "This is where I spent most of my childhood believe it or not," he starts. You trace your fingers over the staff and he adds, "So how did you meet my sister?" "Wong introduced us,"

"Right, Wong. How's he doing?" "He's fine. Not very fond of you like the rest of us." You state nonchalantly. "I don't care if you hate me, as long as you're safe," "Then maybe you shouldn't have been involved with me in the first place. For both of our sakes." You walk passed him to go back to the room but he caught your arm before you could.

"You don't mean that," you push his hand off your arm from the inside and shove him backwards by his chest. "Of course I do. We would be living very different lives right now if we never met each other." "Unhappier lives," he reaches out to touch your chin and you push his hand away again and launching a side kick to the which he caught.

Pulling your leg back with a scowl, Sean goes into back stance with his fingers in tiger pose, inviting you to fight him. You go into fight stance with your hands open like Wong taught you. He makes the first move by throwing a straight punch followed with a sweeping kick.

You land on your hands to dodge the sweep kick and kick him in the chest before landing back on your feet. Fighting was alot like a dance. Every punch you threw, he blocked and every punch he threw, you blocked. He tried to switch it up by throwing a back fist but you grabbed his wrist and threw him over your shoulder.

He grabbed your arm on the way down and you landed on with your legs straddling his chest. "You bastard," you say breathlessly. "You look as beautiful as the day I left." Tucking stray hairs behind your ears, he trails his fingertips along your jawline.

He sits up and slide down his stomach to his lap. You gasp when he catches your lips in a slow, warm kiss. Your mind screamed at you to push him away and slap him across the face. You pull away but he follows your lips as his hands ran up your back. Groaning against him, he smiles against your lips.

"I knew that it wouldn't be long until you two made up," Mandarin says before pulling himself out of the shadows. "Oh God," you whisper, embarrassment pinching at your cheeks. You stand from Sean's lap and bow to Mandarin before rushing out of the room.

"I'll give it a whirl. But I doubt any good would come out of it. Where's his tent?" You follow her to his tent and you release a shaky breath before walking in. Sean sits on the bed with his elbows resting on his knees and his fingers locked in front of him.

"Katy wanted me to check up on you but if you want to be alone, I'll respect that." You state, looking at his bowed head. He doesn't say anything, so you take the cue to leave. "Stay.. please." He says softly. Slowly turning around, you met his desperate gaze.

You sit down next to him and mimic his stance. "You have Katy worried about you. She's a good friend." "Yeah, she is." A moment of silence fell over you. "You're not a killer, Shang Chi. Even if your father tried to make you into one." You explain.

"But I am one. The first mission he sent me on was to avenge my mother by murdering her killer... And that's exactly what I did." "We all did things we're not proud of. Bringing them up out of guilt will always do more harm than good."

"I know a few things about isolating yourself from those you love out of fear of disappointing them. If Katy is anything like Wong or Xiaoling, she's not going anywhere. No matter how hard you push." You add, looking forward when you feel his gaze on you.

"Sometimes the painful memories of your past are reminders of how far you've come from being that person." You place a hand over his and peck his cheek before standing from the bed. He catches your wrist and pulls you into his chest.

You stand there speechless as he cups the side of your face and leaned in to kiss your lips. Your bodies molded together and you push him on to the bed. Straddling his waist, his hands find your cheeks as he planted a much hotter kiss on them.

Groaning as he nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue caresses yours. Your hand rest on his wrists as your eyes fluttered closed, finally succumbing to his hold on you. When he finally pulled away, your lips were sensitive to the touch.

"I wanted to take this slow, but I just- I missed you more than you know." He rests his forehead against yours. "I hate how much of an effect you still have on me. I hate how much I still love you." You search his face for a reaction but he captures your lips in another kiss instead. A whine escapes your swollen lips.

He rolls over so he was settling in between your legs. "Are we going too fast?" He says against your lips. "No," you peck his lips softly. He lifts your chin with his nose before leaving kisses down your neck, your lips part euphorically.

"Can I taste you?" He asks, teasing your waistband with his finger tips. You nod and kisses along his jawline as he pulls down your tights and underwear all in one motion.

Pulling off your shirt, you squeak when he lathered his finger tips in your juices and licked them clean. "Damn," in the blink of an eye, he is in-between you legs and licking your folds in a broad stroke.

A breath caught in your throat and your back arches into his touch. Pulling you closer by the hips, he kitten licks your clit, earning a squeal from you. Your hands found his hair as he continued to suction your lips dry. You roll your hips into his mouth softly, which encourages him to suck at you even harder.

He places a hand on your chest to calm you and you roll your hips softly against the stroke of his tongue, throwing your head back in bliss. Sean looks up at your breathtaking sight; lips parted, eyes screwed shut as the sweetest sounds left your lips.

You mewl when your walls convulsing around him and you finally reach your peak. Sean lapped your folds and sucked as much of your juices as he could before pulling away with a pop and crawling over your body.

Pecking your lips warmly, he pulls off his shirt to drape over your small frame. He pulls you into his chest and positions himself so his back was facing the door, shielding you if anything were to happen. Turning around in his arms, he looks down at you in a way that made your stomach flip.

Snuggling your face into his chest pecks, you place a soft kiss there. You never want this to end, and your heart shatters all over again because you realize that it will.

"I have to leave after this.. the fight. Wong needs me and Strange said that something else was coming. They need my help. We have different lives now, I can't just-"

"I always found it cute when you ramble," he interupts, kissing your widow's peak. "Don't patronize me," "I'm not.. Look, you're right. We have different lives now and there is always going to be a fight. But I'll lay down my life to make this work." "Why?" "I already lost you once. I'm not going to do it again."

[blueeyedgeorgie]

Cancelled-Dream Was Taken

A/N: Surprise bitch. Weren’t we expecting for me to release mcyt fanfics soon? If I didn’t tag my usual @‘s it’s because idk if you’d like to be tagged for mcyt content.

Pronouns: she/her

Word Count: 2.3k+

_________________

"You're so harsh on him!" Her hands sat on the keyboard, staring at the green human that stood on Y/n's computer screen.

She needed to be careful. While this was a heated moment, she couldn't let herself get too loud for multiple reasons. If she got too loud, Dream's stream viewers would be able to tell she was in the next room or they would just receive noise complaints from their neighbors.

"No Y/n! You're too soft on him! He needs to learn that he can't get away with everything. You're setting him up for failure." As the h/c girl listened to her roommate speak, she had to remind herself over and over again; 'This wasn't real.' Dream was mad, not Clay.

This had all been arranged as roleplay. Y/n would be leaving in a few days to go visit some of her family for a reunion, so Wilbur had been the one to think up the brilliant idea of what was playing out now; an argument between Y/n and Dream. The plan was to have Y/n get so upset she didn't log onto the SMP for the next few days, only to come back with a master plan to backstab Dream.

At first, Clay wasn't really on board with the thought of him getting angry at Y/n. They had been together for a little over a year, there wasn't a single moment they had gotten upset with one another. But surprisingly, Y/n had been the one to convince Clay it was a good idea.

The fans knew Dream and Y/n had a close friendship, Dream had always been so protective of her. But when this was going down, they didn't know how to act.

Every time Y/n would glance at her chat, she'd see thousands of comments rising up as new ones appeared. Comment after comment, it looked like the fans were shocked by the way this stream was turning out.

"I'm not setting him up for anything! He's a kid, Dream!" Y/n glanced from the chat,  back at the screen showing her PC game. Standing on her screen was Dream and Tommyinnit, she had accompanied Dream to visit Tommy.

"You're just babying him! 'He's a kid!' Well, he needs to learn to grow up eventually," his voice had been filled with such spite. It felt weird to hear Clay speaking to her like this in such a tone.

For a moment, she stared at the green man before a short scoff escaped her lips. "I can't believe you." With that, Y/n had pressed a few keys, turning her character towards the nether portal a couple of yards away. Before Dream had gotten the chance to speak again, Y/n began to move away.

"Y/n! Come back here!"

She flicked a few buttons, taking a moment to look behind her character to see Dream following. Good, everything was going according to plan. Within the next few minutes, she'd be able to log off and she'd be on vacation for the next few days.

The h/c girl ignored the green man as she stepped through the portal, taking her to Minecraft's version of hell. Almost done, she just needed to find a good spot to stop as she listened to Dream continue to speak.

"You can't keep ignoring me! You know I'm right in this. You know you can't keep defending Tommy. You know Tommy is driving a wedge between us-"

Perfect. Y/n had stopped just on the edge of a bridge, molten lava sat feet below them. If she fell, she'd surely die. "No."

"No?" Dream was a bit surprised to hear Y/n cut him off, but he stayed silent as he was prepared to listen to what she had to say.

"No. No more. I don't wanna hear you blame Tommy for us breaking apart. I want you to listen to me. You've been acting like much more of a dick than usual and I hate it. I despise it. You've changed for the worst because you think you can step on everyone. At this point, everyone fears to tell you the truth-except me. I'll be a hundred percent honest with you, you've been so egotistical, it's really pissed me off. This is your fault, Dream. Not Tommy's. You exiled a child for pulling a prank on a vacation house! Not even George's real house!"

"But-"

"Shut the fuck up. I'm done, but I don't wanna hear you bullshit me. So shut the fuck up."

A moment of silence passed between them as Y/n stared at her screen. Just a few more steps.

And within seconds, Dream had pulled out his netherite sword. With one hit, she was falling back into lava. Y/n glanced at her chat, a look of shock on her face as she read over what a few comments said. A moment of silent tension had passed before Y/n had finally spoken up, removing her from the voice chat she was in.

"Alright guys, I guess that's enough for the day. I'll see you all... later." With that, she had clicked a few buttons, raiding Dream's live-stream as she ended hers.

For the next 20 to 30 minutes, Y/n knew Clay would be busy streaming. So she had decided to take a bit of time to wind down and think to herself.

Get a glass of water.

'Are the fans harassing him in his twitch chat?'

Sit down on the living room couch.

'The SMP fans were always so protective of me.'

Pet Patches.

'Was I too much when I snapped at him?'

It didn't seem like 30 minutes had passed when Clay had walked out of his streaming room, only to find Y/n on the couch with Patches in her lap. "Hey, N/n." "Oh, your stream is already over?" Y/n smiled, pulling herself out of her thoughts as she scoot over, giving Clay room to take a seat right by her.

"Yeah, did you lose track of time or something?"

"I must've. How did the chat react after I 'died'?" She smiled up at her boyfriend as he wrapped an arm over her shoulders, pulling her closer into his embrace.

"Everyone was filled with joy that you died."-Y/n playfully swatted at him. "Okay, okay! I got a few chat messages of people bashing me for it, but it's fine."

"Well, it's a good thing the chat wasn't completely littered with hate. How was it after my raid?"

"Honestly, not that bad as you expect. Like I said, just a few comments. Nothing bad, I just ignored it." Clay placed a hand on Patches's head, gently scratching her, followed by the animal beginning to purr.

"Good to hear, anyways... I'm not ready to pack. Do you think we can procrastinate?" The h/c girl let out a huff leaning against her boyfriend. "How?"

"I was thinking a bit of movie binging, cuddling, and ordering dinner?" A cheeky smile spread on her face as she spoke.

"It's like you read my mind."

The couple had made it through three movies, by now it was later at night. The sun had set and they had already door dashed some food. By now they were in the middle of watching 'The Empire Strikes Back.'

'I love you.' 'I know.'

The iconic moment between Hans and Leia had been interrupted by the sound of Clay's phone buzzing. "Why is George calling?"

"What?" Y/n was a bit curious herself. Considering the timezones, George should be asleep right now. Pausing the TV, she turned her attention to her boyfriend's phone.

"Hey Clay."

"What's up, George? Isn't it like early in the morning for you?" Clay raised a brow, moving his phone so Y/n would be able to see George as well.

"Yeah, I had to stay up to fix a YouTube video I need to get out today. I was about to go to bed and I checked Twitter-"

"Oh no." Clay made a short joke, only to be cut off by his friend.

"I don't know if it's trending for you in America, but you might as well look."

"What's going on?" He swiped up, taking him to his home screen so he could click on the little blue bird app. Y/n had grabbed her phone from the coffee table, opening up the app as well. "#Cancel Dream... #Y/n... #Dream SMP"

"Is... is Clay getting canceled for killing me in Minecraft?" Y/n scrolled through the tweets involving the hashtag 'Y/n.' She could see plenty of people defending her, but making it much bigger of a problem than it actually was.

"Oh, hey Y/n. But yeah, he is." George chuckled awkwardly, scrolling through his Twitter app as well.

"This is so fucking stupid."

"It really is. So we might as well get this cleared up with the fans as soon as possible. Do you want me to tweet something, or do you want to?" Y/n looked up at her boyfriend, it looked like he was thinking.

"Yeah, I'll tweet it. Don't worry about this, Y/n."

"Alright, whatever you say," she replied, pulling a blanket over her as she waited for Clay to finish typing his response.

"Here's what I'm gonna say: 'I can't believe you guys actually think me and @(y/n) are in an actual fight in real life. We have been good friends since forever, the fight was only roleplay. I love that you guys are so protective of Y/n, but no one's actually upset.' How's that sound?"

"I think that's good," George hummed softly.

"Yeah, I doubt you'll stay 'canceled' once you've explained to them it was all part of the SMP lore." The h/c girl smiled up at her boyfriend with a small nod.

"Alright, I'm gonna post it. George, I think you should go to bed because you're half asleep already."

Y/n turned, looking at her boyfriend's iPhone. "Go to sleep, Gogy!"

"Alright, alright... I'll talk to you guys later." The call had ended with Clay and Y/n saying goodbye to their friend while George simply yawned to them as a response.

As soon as the call was over, Clay looked at the response to his tweet. It didn't seem to be going too well. There had been a few fans who understood what was going on and responded with a paragraph as an apology for the misunderstanding. But most replies had been telling Clay he was bullshitting the fans or that he wasn't being honest.

"I'm sorry, Clay," his girlfriend had huffed as she read through the responses to his tweet.

"Honestly I'm just a bit pissed off. Literally, any time someone tries to 'cancel' me, it's over something stupid. I'm not a bad guy, it just feels like some people just don't want to see me succeed." Clay had excused himself to grab a glass of water from the kitchen.

It hurt Y/n to hear how upset her boyfriend was. He never got too upset over things, but seemed to take a small toll on him. "Hold on. Let me say something." The h/c girl couldn't be asked to post multiple tweets of her response to hate sent towards Clay over the internet. So what was better than a short video that could be posted to the blue bird app?

"Um, hey guys. I'd just like to make this quick. Stop sending hate towards Dream. The fight was roleplay and nothing more. I'm gonna be busy for the next couple of days so Wilbur thought of a good idea to help build SMP lore with me and Dream and we both agreed to the argument. Now stop sending the green man hate, or I'll commit war crimes or something-"

Y/n had been interrupted by the sound of Clay letting out a small giggle. "What? What did I say?"

"Nothing, just keep going with your video."

"Whatever, I'm cool. No matter what Dream says. Anyways, I'll speak to you all later." Y/n had hit the red button again, ending her video. Within seconds, the video had been uploaded to her Twitter account.

Placing her phone back down on the table, Y/n approached her boyfriend, wrapping her arms around his torso. "I'm really sorry about the hate, Clay. I love you."

"Don't apologize for something you can't control. I love you more." The brunette held his partner close, accepting her hug. Y/n always loved his hugs, she always felt so safe in his embrace.

The rest of the night had been spent with more cuddling and more Star Wars movies. Hours had passed before Y/n had even thought about the Twitter situation again. But for some reason, she had decided to look at the app again tonight.

It was 2 in the morning by now, Clay was half asleep. His head laid in the h/c girl's lap as she brushed a hand through his hair, her free hand opening up her Twitter app once again.

It had been a bit of a surprise to see a couple of trending hashtags had changed so quickly. What was trending now was #Dream, #Y/n,#(ship name), and #Dream's Laugh. This had to be about Y/n's short clip she posted. And by the looks of it, people had stopped acting so harsh towards Clay. But instead, they had decided to focus on the fact Dream and Y/n were hanging out together. Not to mention the fact Dream and let out a stupid little giggle because of Y/n. People had been apologizing to him through Twitter for being so hard on him.

"Babe."

"Hm?" Clay mumbled, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Pretty much everyone is apologizing to you over Twitter for being hardasses."

"Hm, that's good to hear."

"You're really tired, huh?" Y/n paused her scrolling to look down at her boyfriend.

"Yeah," He continued to mumble, followed by a short yawn.

"Alright, time for bed, babe." Y/n smiled to herself, beginning to carefully move away from Clay. "I can pack tomorrow and we can laugh over the stupid bird app tomorrow after you've gotten a good amount of sleep."

"I still can't believe Twitter tried canceling me over roleplay."

"I can't believe you got uncancelled by shippers."

Taglist: @notphilosopherstudentblog

[lunarflux]

"i promised i'd forget, but you're all i see when i dream the night away"

bang chan x reader

genre — drama!au

suggested background music: x

note: like i said - i put a lot of my life into writing. something similar to this happened to me today, and i'd like to think that music is getting me through it. i wanted to add more of a "post credits" scene for chan and o/c, but this is how my day is going and how this situation ends.

The world never felt so heavy.

You'd never thought that scrolling through social media could create this bleeding ring in your ears, yet somehow here you are, unable to look at your phone. The photo you stumbled across had already been burned into your memory. There were times when you could forget what song you'd just listened to, and yet this one image had suddenly been burned, a permanent nightmare in your mind.

Your ex looked happy. It wasn't a bad breakup, but after a year, you couldn't expect him to stay single forever. You'd both agreed to move on, and while you swore you had, seeing the photo of him with a beautiful girl kissing his cheek made your shoulders heavy. Staring at your blacked out screen, it was like the photo was still there, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't keep yourself from seeing it. Every time you closed your eyes, there he was.

Happy.

You fumbled with your cell phone, placing it face down on your desk before your boss could catch you. It was hard to hide the look on your face. It was pain, sadness, and confusion. How was it that after all this time, you hadn't succeeded in moving on, but he had?

Was it you? Or was this girl really so special that you were worth forgetting?

The feeling of being forgotten - it's seeing the dust gather on photos and the doorknob that he will never open again.

It's over.

"Do you have the paperwork for the meeting tomorrow?" Chan popped into your office, placing a fresh mug of coffee on your desk. You'd started here only six months ago, but he already knew that you liked your coffee light and sweet. "Jisoo wants to make sure we're not missing anything before -"

"Yeah, I have it." You said curtly, looking back at your computer, typing away at your report. "I'll bring it to you later."

"I mean, I can wait for it if you have it ready."

"Chan," you looked up at him. "I said I'll bring it to you later."

Chan looked at you with mild concern. Sure, there were a lot of women in the office, and the men had eventually learned when not to step on toes in the case of any mood swings because of work stress. You weren't one of those people though. You were the type of person who'd rid the stress with a bar of chocolate and be done with it. You'd never snapped at him before.

"Okay." Chan backed out quietly. He ducked into the next office over. Knocking on Minki's office door, he peered in.

"Hey," Minki stood up. "I gotta bring these to the fourth floor, can you watch the phone for me?"

"Yeah, no problem." Chan smiled before taking a seat.

Ping

He knew that you and Minki were office best friends ever since you got hired. While he didn't mean to see it, Minki left his messenger open and slowly your messages came flooding in.

x: he moved on x: am i supposed to be upset? x: we broke up a year ago, so why do i feel so defeated haha x: maybe i'm just decomposing. why do i feel like this x: can we get drinks later? i know you hate it when i drink to drown out my sorrows, but i just can't be here right now.

Damn.

Chan swore he didn't mean to see all that. That would explain the mood though.

x: i didn't think i'd miss him this much. i just want to forget about it.

Taking in a deep breath, Chan pulled out his phone and made a call.

**

"Chan, why did you need me for this stupid client dinner? And who the hell has dinner at 4PM?" You continuously complained as he drove you down the road into the next district.

"Just relax, it'll be fine."

You rested your head against the passenger side window. As your breath fogged up the glass, you scribbled little hearts, peppered over the skyline as Chan drove. It wasn't until you started seeing signs that you realized you were at Banpo Bridge. Chan pulled into the empty parking lot.

"The client wants to have dinner here? What are we doing - getting takeout?" You jested.

Chan opened your door. "Go sit over there, I'll be right back."

You took your seat right by the edge of the water. The weather really was perfect today. The fresh air helped clear out your thoughts. Even though the breakup was a year ago, seeing that photo really made it feel like it just happened yesterday. Your heart broke twice, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to think that you hate him now. You loved him as a memory - a beautiful, happy memory, and it was time to let go now.

Chan re-emerged next to you, a bag with four bottles of soju and piping hot ramen in his hands.

"Um -" You nearly laughed at the sight of him struggling to carry everything. "Am I missing something? Are the clients your drinking buddies?"

"Sit, sit, please." Chan arranged everything down on the ledge.

"Not that I'm ungrateful, but I am confused."

"I, uh." He sat down next to you, removing his jacket. "I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me."

Stopping halfway from opening a bottle, you looked up at him.

"y/n, Minki had me watch over his desk, and I... I'm sorry, I saw your messages."

"Chan, that was private." You looked down at your shoes, feeling the heaviness in your chest again.

"I know. And I'm sorry." He grabbed the bottle from you and opened it himself. "Minki had to run to another meeting, and I saw how sad you were. I just figured I'd help you escape for a bit. I called in a favor from the interns to watch your stuff, so we could... do this, I guess."

You'd always known Chan was a softie. He was that guy in the office who never forgot about birthdays and important events. He was never late, and he would do everything he could to help out the new people. Even to you, he was a big help whenever you needed it.

"Again, I'm sorry." He poured two shots and handed you one. "But you looked like you needed it, so - cheers."

You watched him as you threw back your soju. You stifled a smile, "Pitiful, isn't it. Still feeling like you've been dumped even after an entire year."

Chan winced as the alcohol hit the back of his throat. "Not at all. Who said that a year was the right time to get over someone? There's no rule for that."

You continued to sip slowly, watching him open up all the snacks.

"I haven't had a girlfriend in years, and I swear, after my last girlfriend and I broke up, I couldn't stop thinking about her even because of the littlest things. It wasn't a bad breakup, but when you have so many happy moments with someone, you can't help but feel sad when you see that person making new moments with someone else. It makes you wonder if that could've been me, y'know?"

It couldn't be stopped. One deep breath and suddenly all the tears started pouring out. You couldn't control your breathing, and it felt like the weight of the world finally came crashing down on your chest, reminding you of every little happy memory that had to be released into the ocean like confetti.

Chan rushed over, placing his jacket on your shoulders. He hushed you, rubbing your arms to warm you up. Crouching down in front of you, he pulled you up and brought you into his chest.

"Wait, I'll get makeup on your shirt -"

He laughed at your childish worries. "It's just a shirt. Just go ahead, it's okay. I can get it dry-cleaned, and you're worth more than some shirt."

Feeling your tears soak up in the cotton, you just cried, and Chan let you until it felt like there was nothing left. You chest was still heaving, but you felt the weight lift slowly. The sea air started filling your lungs again like an icy burn.

"I'm sorry." You finally looked up, mascara stained on your cheeks. You smeared what you could from your face before sitting.

"Stop apologizing." Chan sat down beside you again. "Do you feel better?"

"A little."

Placing his hand on yours, Chan smiled. It was a warm gentle smile. He squeezed, "It will get better. I promise."

"I just feel like everyone keeps moving on, and I'm just stuck here."

"Where is 'here' to you? 'Here' to me is existing with a good job with good friends and a good life. 'Here' is anything you're doing happily without him." He reached up to cup your cheek. "I know you feel miserable, but your body won't let you feel this way forever. And neither will I. Please don't feel as if 'here' is an awful place. 'Here', you have me, and I'll stay until you're not sad anymore."

Peering up at him with red eyes, you smiled with whatever energy you had. Sadness still sat on your shoulders, but it didn't feel so awful anymore.

Chan nodded towards you.

"Until you're not sad or until you ask me to leave - I'll be here for you."

[writteninkat]

i - your grandma must have been strong

word count: 2,007

"I'll spend forever wondering if you knew I was enchanted to meet you."

index

You zipped your last luggage closed, huffing tiredly as you stood up. You looked around you- your empty room, your plain, pink walls that were once decorated with many posters and pictures, your floor that was once covered by a big fluffy white rug and some clothes and stuffed toys.

You sigh, smiling. You were surely going to miss this place. Your back tingles as you turn around to see your mother leaning on the door frame, looking at you with sad eyes.

"Do you have to go?" Her voice is soft and calming- it always has been. She's the only person who could ever calm you down especially when your father left the two of you to work at the Heroes Association in Japan.

"I want to be able to protect people. Children, women, the elderly... I wanna be someone people can depend on. Someone you can depend on." You place a hand on her arm which she covers with her own, he warm palm along with her soft smile about to send you to tears.

She nods, walking inside your room to help with your baggage. "The movers just finished loading up your other stuff. All we need is your excess baggage." She pushes the luggage towards the door, you mirroring her actions.

She cups both of your cheeks, looking you at you with adoring, glassy eyes. It's your first time being separated from your mother in you sixteen years of existence. The two have always been attached to the hip, you traveled everywhere together, even as the two of you had constant arguments you could never stay mad at each other for too long.

She was the only one you had.

"Stay safe in Japan, okay? If your father gave you a hard time, call me. I'll pick you up no matter what time it is, no matter where you are. I love you." She kisses your forehead and you finally let your tears fall as you wrap your hands around her thing wrists.

"I love you so much mom." You sob, hanging your head as your mother wrapped her arms around you. You hear a voice of a woman through the speakers, telling you your flight was taking off in a few minutes.

You quickly give your mother a kiss on the cheek before letting one of your guards assist you with your bags. You waved good bye to your mom and soon after, your trusted body guard.

You were on your way to Japan, to a new life, a new school, new friends and hopefully to reach your new goal: to prove yourself worthy of becoming a hero without your father's help.

You walk towards the giant gates of UA, taking a deep breath before finally taking a step inside the campus. Your heart thumped on your chest nervously as your palms began to prespire. You kept your eyes forward, not wanting to do anything with the teens around you as your only goal was to pass the entrance exam. You walked inside the building you were lead to, taking a seat at the very back in fear of attracting any unwanted attention.

"What's up UA candidates?! Thanks for tuning into me your school DJ! Just as your application said, today you will be conducting your exams in seven different locations! Your location has been assigned to you in the paper you were given." The loud blond man with long hair swept way to the back of his head announced, making you click your tongue. Not to be a mood buster, but isn't he being a little too loud?

You take the piece of paper he was talking about, eyes lower to read the letter that's written on it. Test Location: Battle Center C.

"Excuse me sir but I have a question." Your eyes fall to a purple-headed boy with glasses whose hand is raised. The blond teacher acknowledges him and he begins talking about how there are four villains in the paper you were given and not only three.

He then begins running his mouth about how a minor mistake such as this would be an embarrassment for a school such as UA. You scoff, muttering something about having a stick up his ass.

After the teacher ended his speech, you along with the other students began piling out of the room and to your designated battle centers. As you enter your specified location, you take out the black leather gloves from your pocket, wearing them. You clenched and unclenched your hands to make sure that it fit you well.

"Hey grandma." An unfamiliar voice catches your attention, unfortunately for you the rude nickname was directed towards you.

"Grandma?" You raise a brow, unsure what he meant by it.

"You white hair reminds me of my grandma's." He snickers, pointing at the white streaks of hair you have beside either sides of your face as a few other students chuckling behind him. He looks plain, very, very boring. "Why don't you give up on this exam, grandma? Your knees may start hurting."

The signal went off and the robots began moving behind you. As you kept a straight face, your hands begin glowing a blinding white light as a black with blue and silver accent claymore appears in your hands. You run to your left, applying your speed quirk as you ran towards the gigantic robots, swinging your sword vertically.

The slash creates the same blinding white light, the robots, the buildings and concrete ground that the light touches all disintegrating into nothing. You speed into the other robots, stealing the targets of other students as you accumulated your points. Once you finish and only a few robots are left, you return to your spot to where the plain-looking boy along with his little friends were still standing at, jaws hanging eyes blown wide.

"You grandma must have been very strong."

"I got in." You say into your phone and you hear your mother squeal in delight from the other end of the line. A smile breaks into your face and you feel your phone vibrate, signaling a new notification. As you pull your phone away to see what it is, your eyes widen in surprise as you read your notification banner.

'Mom' sent you $100.

"Mom what the heck is the money for?" You chuckle. "I'm not there with you but I want you to celebrate getting into UA. So go use the money and spoil yourself."

"Mom you don't have to-"

"Okay, mom mode off. I demand you go and award yourself eith the money I sent you." Your mom's tone switches from soft and caring to cold and demanding, making you chuckle. "That doesn't suit you at all." You laugh, you can practically /hear/ your mom pout at the other line.

"Okay, okay. I'll do as you say. Thank you, mom. I love you."

"I love you more my baby."

The call ends and you change out of your usual sweats and oversized tee. You put on a black spaghetti strap and high-wasted mom jeans. You hoop in a black belt and fold the ankles of your pants to show your white sock inside your checkered vans. You finish the look with medium-sized hoop earrings and a oversized red zip-up jacket which you leave unzipped with one shoulder hanging off.

You step out of your apartment, pocketing your keys and taking a deep breath in. Japan is just so beautiful, the scenery, the buildings, even the weather was perfect. You strut down your apartment building, scrolling through your phone as you searched for cafes nearby. It was a five minute walk of calm and relaxing vibes. You step into the cafe, eyes darting around the adorable cottage-core aesthetic it had going.

"Hey my name is Mio. What can I get for you this lovely afternoon?" The cashier beams brightly, your day becoming better and better with every move you make. "I'll have a strawberry shortcake as well as a strawberr frappe with extra foam, strawberry syrup and strawberries." You beam back at her and she takes your order with a bright smile, tapoing away on the computer's screen.

"Does your life depend on strawberries or something?" A rough and deep voice asks behind you, causing you to turn around. Once you do, your eyes widen at the sight of a young blond with vermilion eyes. He looked around your age.

"I like strawberries. Is it that big of a sin?" You ask, soft smile across your face as you cross your arms together. The guy had such piercing eyes, those red orbs looked like they could trap you in them forever.

"Not what I'm saying, but if you're that much of a strawberry fan, I recommend their strawberry pop tarts." His eyes drop to the display fridge beside you and your eyes follow his, landing on the adorable little tarts with red jam on top of them.

Just as you were about to order them, the cashier speaks up. "Your total is 1,500 yen." She smiles brightly, making you pout. You didn't want to cause more trouble for her seeing as your bill has already been printed by the machine.

You scan their QR code, paying virtually as she hands you your buzzer. "We'll give you a signal whrn your order is ready. You can find a seat and wait there thank you!"

You turn around at the blond who's looking at you expectantly, "I guess I'll have to try your recommendation some other time." You smile at him, walking off to the table catering two chairs. It was seated at the far back of the cafe, away from the many customers the cafe had.

You began scrolling through your social media, liking the posts of your past classmates and chuckling at some memes you saw.

A plate full of the same tarts with red jam is placed on your white table and you didn't have to look to see who it was. "Is this you way of flirting with me, rubies?" You ask, looking up at him with a teasing, smug smile. His face contorts into annoyance, "Hah? Flirting with you?" He scoffs, "Not a chance. And who're you calling rubies?"

"Your eyes remind me of rubies. They're pretty."

The blond's face relaxes and you push the seat across from you, silently telling him to sit down. He does as 'told', huffing as he watches you pick of a tart and bring it over to your lips. You bite on it, eyes widening as the flavor explodes in your mouth. It tastes sweet but not the sickeningly sweet kind, it's soft soft in the inside and lightly crunchy on the outside.

"You look like you just ate food made by gods." He chuckles, "You look dumb."

"But it really does taste so good!" You've never felt this much excitement since you found out you got into UA. And that speaks a lot given that you've only ever felt this kind of feeling with your mom.

"I should have bought the entire stock if I knew you liked it that much." Your heart skipped at his words. What is this feeling? You felt nervous all of a sudden, you can barely contain your smile and somehow, you didn't want to go home yet. This is a very new feeling for you. It's kind of... scary.

"I'm L/n."

Idiot. Stop it.

"L/n Y/n." You extend your hand towards him which he looks at for a few moments before taking. You shake both of your hands with a soft smile, your thoughts going haywire at how soft his palms feel.

"Bakugou. Katsuki Bakugou."

You pull your hand away, finishing the last piece of strawberry pop tart on your plate before your buzzer turns on. You pick it up, standing up. "Thanks for the tarts. See you around, rubies."

"Call me that one more time and I'll blow your face up."

You snicker, smirking. "Whatever you say, rubies."

[miss-smutty]

The Destructive Secret - Chapter 1

A/N- So first of all, extremely mature themes, strictly 18+ only This is my baby, I love it and I'm so excited for it but oh my lord! My poor heart writing this. This is going to be a super angsty series. Since I got the idea I've been desperate to get it written, even though it's going to break my heart. The dynamics of it have been driving me insane because I want the first chapter to have a air of mystery to it but then how do I tag it without giving it away? 😩 So I've purposefully left out names in this chapter so you don't know who's who and all will be revealed in good time. Can you work out what's happening? I'd love to hear your thoughts ❤️

Disclaimer: This is an entire work of fiction/AU and has no affiliation to real life what so ever! This is a fictional story about fictional characters who happen to share names and faces with some real people.

Summary- You've got a secret to hide and it's going to cause complete and utter destruction.

Word count- 2,197

Warnings- Mature themes, swearing, smut, angst, deceit, lies

18+ only!

Taglist-: @innerpaperexpertcloud @pandaxnienke

Posted: 25th Feb 2021

"Babe, don't hate me... I have to go out of town for another conference this weekend" The deep confliction you feel everytime you do this to your boyfriend, never gets any easier.

"I don't hate you, we'll make up for it next week. How about a little romantic trip, just the two of us" he says sweetly, making your heart tug, you wish he was a bad guy it would make this a lot easier.

"That sounds like a great plan, I'll make it up to you tonight" you say, distracted by your thoughts.

"Well that sounds... Intriguing. I'll see you tonight babe" he hung up the phone but you kept it to your ear, still deep in thought before finally realising and putting the phone on the desk next to your computer.

You finished typing up the letter you were working on before the phone call, looking back and forth from your phone to the screen of your computer, still distracted by your thoughts. The butterflies in your stomach making you feel sick. You gave in and grabbed your phone, typing out a text quickly.

-I've told him. Pick me up from work at 5.30 Friday - you stop typing to think for a minute, before finishing the text with two kisses - xx

You try to get your head back into work, the neverending pile of deadlines building up on your desk next to you. When your phone vibrates the desk loudly, you look around to make sure no one's watching you before giving in to your curiosity and picking up your phone.

-Great, see you Friday. I can't wait to see you xxx

You try to feel excited but the overwhelming amount of guilt you feel always overrides that. You wish it could be different, that you could've met in a different way. That you could actually thoroughly enjoy the time you have together rather than feeling a deep shamefulness everytime you meet.

You've got yourself into something so deep that you can't think of a way out of it, either way it ends somebody is going to be hurt. In fact, one way or the other, you're all going to be hurt.

                             *******************

"Hey babe, did you have a good day?" Your boyfriend greets you as you walk into the kitchen, filled with the aromas of the food he was cooking for you.

"It was ok, busy. This smells amazing. What you making?" You ask, kissing him on the cheek as he stands over the stove, stirring a pot of delicious smelling liquid.

"I'm just making a sauce for the pasta" he says letting go of his wooden spoon and grabbing you by the hand to spin you around and face him. 

"Did you bring dessert?" He says into your ear, moving your hair to the side and planting kisses down your neck.

"What no, was I supposed to?" You couldn't remember him saying anything about dessert, yet you'd been pretty distracted most of the day.

"I'm sure you said something about making it up to me tonight?" He smirks, pulling you in for a lingering open mouthed kiss.

"Oh, yeah. That kind of dessert" you say, pulling away slightly.

"Are you ok? You seem kinda ... Distracted" he asks, a look of concern on his face as you shuffle though the papers in your bag.

"No, sorry babe. It's just work, I've had a lot on my mind today" you lie, sort of. You had a lot on your mind it just wasn't work related, even though you wish it was.

As you put the papers back into your bag you can feel your phone vibrating. Fuck sake, not now. Becoming flustered you accidentally drop the bag onto the glass table, nearly jumping out of your skin from the loud noise your phone made as it hit the glass. 

You notice your hands shaking as you hold your phone in front of you, cursing yourself under your breath for being so pathetic. Reading the text has your heart beating at an unbelievable pace, making you light headed and dizzy. 

-Can you meet me tonight? I hate this, I hate not being able to see you whenever I like. Please Y/N xxx

You pull out a chair and sit down before you fall down, why do you have to be pulled about in so many different directions? It was so hard leading a double life and keeping your dirty little secret, it literally ate away at your soul. You were a shell of the person you used to be, completely consumed with lies and deceit.

Sleepless nights, tossing and turning caused by guilt and work schedules and then still having to sneak away whenever you could. You lost yourself, trying to keep two people happy while completely forgetting about yourself.

"Babe?" 

"Huh?" You say looking up from your phone, you hadn't realised he'd been speaking to you.

"I said, red or white? He asks, furrowing his brow at you.

"Sorry, what?" You look confused, shaking your head as if to shake the thoughts right out of there. You have no idea what he's talking about.

"Wine? Foods ready. Do you want red or white... wine?" Looking more concerned.

"Oh, white please. Thank you, this looks amazing" you say, putting your phone into your shirt pocket and tucking your chair under the table, ready to get started. It really did look amazing, you don't deserve him. 

You watched him sit down opposite you, his ridiculously blue eyes catching yours as his fork passes to his lips. He smiles that sweet smile at you, the one that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. The memories of the years flash in front of your eyes in an instant, the first time he told you he loved you, the first kiss, the first time you made love, beautiful, beautiful memories. You can feel a tear prickling at the corner of your eye, lowering your head, hoping he didn't see. 

"Are you sure you're ok?" He asks, reaching across the table to hold your hand in his. The feel of his touch on your hand sends shivers down your spine and the tears spill from your eyes without warning. You hear his chair screech as he pushes it backwards and rushes to your side.

"Babe, please tell me what's wrong?" He kneels In front of you while you rest your head in your hands, completely overwhelmed with guilt. This poor man, my man, how could I do this to him?

"Don't be nice to me, I don't deserve it" you say, self-loathing.

"What are you talking about? Come here" he pulls you up and sits down with you on his lap, lifting your face to look at him which makes you cry even more. 

"I've been so distant with you, so consumed in my damn work that I've been totally neglecting you - " you cry, looking up at him sincerely, tears streaming down your face messily " - I'm so sorry" if only he knew how sorry you actually were. You loved him, he was your first everything, which makes it even harder for you.

"Hey don't be so silly. I'm a big boy, I think I can handle you being a little distracted, it just means when we do get time together it's more special. You've put up with so much from me, with the tabloids and papparzzi. You took it all on when we were still so young and never complained once, this is nothing compared to that" he wipes the tears away from your cheeks. Oh baby, please don't blame yourself.

"I would do it all over again, you know? It was worth it, I'd never change it. You're my childhood sweetheart, we've grown up together and I... I" you're balling like a baby now.

"Shh, baby. Please don't worry about it. You need a break, you've been working way too hard" if only he knew.

He nudges the side of your face with his soft bearded cheek until you give in and look up at him. The tears are also starting to well in his eyes and he smiles at you, at how silly and emotional you're both being. You suck it up and wipe the tears away with your arm.

"Come on, I've got some making up to do" you say, leading him to the bedroom. Your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket - an incoming call. You reach in and hold down the off button, you'll deal with that later.

He stops you before you make it to the bedroom and pushes you hastily against the wall, unable to wait much longer. His hands feel their way down your body until he reaches the hem of your skirt and pushes it up to your stomach, revealing your lacey panties. Your breath hitches as he pushes himself against you, the feel of his hard cock against your exposed panties makes you forget everything else for a moment. 

"I love you so fucking much" he says against your lips, biting gently on your bottom one while his hands run up and down your body. You reach down to unbutton his jeans, it's all very rushed and desperate, you need to feel each other, feel the love you have for each other. You need to show him, a painful desire that burns in your chest to show him that you love him.

So you push him backwards towards the bedroom door, your hands still working his jeans as your lips lock, never pulling apart.

Shoving him slightly too hard back onto your super-king bed in the middle of the room, you waste no time straddling him. He reaches up to unbutton your shirt, thrusting into you as he does so, the need so bad it hurt. You stopped his fingers fiddling with your button midway down your torso so you could pull off his jeans and boxers, while he props himself up on the bed with his elbows. Watching intently as you take control.

You kneel between his thighs, smoothing your hands down those thick muscles. Waiting for him to position himself at the end of the bed, making sure he has a good view before you run your pierced tongue up the shaft, all the way to the tip. Teasing him, knowing full well how it makes him feel. The ways his head falls back, his mouth hung open and the sounds falling from his lips, stir something deep inside you. It makes you feel hot to know you're turning him on this much.

Circling your pointy tongue around the tip, a sultry stare straight into his eyes makes him groan. You take his tip into your mouth, swallowing the drop of precum, licking your lips for him. Sucking on his cock, feeling it throbbing in your mouth, growing impossibly harder.

You can tell he can't handle it anymore when he pulls you onto him so you're sitting on his cock, your walls stretching around him making you both suck in air at the sensitivity. He leans back up to finish unbuttoning your shirt while thrusting his big cock, deep within you. Finally getting your shirt off, he grips his fingers into your ass cheeks, squeezing them as he sits up. Bouncing up and down on his dick, while you stare into each others eyes, the intimacy overwhelming you. Lost in the moment for a precious amount of time, feeling the sensation of your loves cock filling you up beyond limits.

You pull his shirt over his head, revealing his beautifully, tanned body. Holding on tightly to you while he pushes himself up the bed so he can lean his back against the headboard. Watching your tits move as you bounce on his cock, thrusting into you with his jaw clenched. You know that look, the way he's desperately trying not to come too quickly.

Both of your breathes are getting faster as you bounce harder, the gripping sensation rises through you.

"I love you" you say between breaths, leaning down to say it into his ear. 

"Fuck - " he groans, pulling out of you quickly before he come, your rising orgasm fading away. 

" - fuck Sorry, babe. That was too fucking much" He rolls you over underneath him and quickly positions himself back at your entrance, easing in painfully slowly.

Now thrusting into you at an unforgivable pace, making you gasp everytime he slammed into you. Pushing your knees back towards your face and settling himself between them, holding your head with both hands and gazing into your eyes. He's ready, you're ready, you can feel it rising as he rolls his hips into you. The look of love in his eyes making you feel emotional, he's panting and you're moaning as he lets go and pumps into you making you lose it and scream out as you gush everywhere. Holding onto the sheets, tightly, as you wait for your toes to uncurl, still inside of you he lays on your stomach trying to catch his breath. Your muscles cramp up and shake making you wince as you try to move out from underneath him

"Are you ok?" His head snaps up, concerned.

"Yeah, just cramp" you whine, stretching out your legs when he rolls to your side.

"I really do love you" you say moving into his arms.

"I know you do. I love you too" he says kissing the top of your head. You're brought back to reality when you hear your phone vibrating again on the floor, in the pocket of your shirt. 

"You're popular tonight" he says noticing the sound of your phone as it vibrates the floorboards.

"It's just work, it can wait until tomorrow" you say, content being in his arms for a little longer and forgetting that anything or anyone else exists. Even if it is only for a moment.