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#remember what 'i purple you' means everyone
phangneh · 1 day
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Voice In The Abyss
[CHAPTER Ⅰ]
✨Manhwa : Into The Light Once Again
✨Elmir royal family x Fem!Reader
✨Warning : princess!reader, lost memory, yandere elements (both platonic and romantic), protect, ... (will add more)
📌Note: this is just a fanfic, there are many details unrelated to the original story line. English is not my native language, if I make grammatical mistakes or use incorrect words, please forgive me.
🎭Summary : You have a voice that is said to change the world, when you sing, your sweet voice makes people happy and all things flourish. One day, your kingdom was destroyed, you had to live with the pain of losing your family and being severely mistreated. But it seems that you will die in misery, there will be people who will come and take you out of the abyss.
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[ Introduce ]
[ Chapter 1 ]
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Looks like there's a noise on the ground, you think. But you're not really sure, is it really noise? Or are your ears just imagining for themselves?
It's been a long time, even a little warmth of sunlight you haven't even seen, two years of being confined to a dark underground prison, all your senses and body have been worn out. Dark, cold, snake centipede insects you are also used to.
When will you be freed?
Why aren't you dead yet?
Eventually, you find yourself lying on the moldy, slurping ground. A finger can't move now, is God taking you?
The noise doesn't go away, but at this moment you don't care about it anymore. When you close your eyes, it feels like you're leaning on your mother's lap, and she sings you lullabies. There is the voice of your mother, of your father, of your brothers and sisters, it seems that you are with them.
And then you don't feel anything anymore.
...
You wake up, light creeping into the corner of your eye. Brilliant, and uncomfortable. But it's also warm and comfortable. Your head is blank, strangely enough, you don't have any memories in your head. You can't think of anything, you're so strange around, you wonder where this is, there's a lot of mixed emotions, anxiety, fear, restlessness in you,... Suddenly the door of the room opens, a woman enters and is alarmed to realize you have woken up, she is so shocked that she almost dropped the tray in her hand.
"She's awake!"
She speaks something you don't understand. You're vague, weak, but still aware enough that two people came in later, they both looked in a hurry, and seemed surprised to see you open your eyes. Who's that? Do you know them?
"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" A soft voice that you can hear, she speaks a language that you understand, you want to answer, but your throat is too weak to say something.
The owner of the voice was a woman with a gentle and beautiful face, her eyes were like beautiful purple jewels.
She looked very worried... Why?
"Hurry up and call the priest here!" Another voice, but that of the younger girl, they were the same, they both had cloud-white hair, but she had blue eyes... It was like that lake, clear and shining. She was as beautiful as an angel.
"It's going to be fine, you're safe."
You are confused, why are you here, who they are, why are you like this, so many questions in your mind.
What happened?
...
You gaze silently out the light-filled window, your aimless eyes gazing into the distance. It's been two days since you woke up, Empress Iris – that beautiful purple-eyed woman said that you have been in a coma for almost 1 month since they found you.
"(Y/n) (L/n)"
The name crosses your mind, people say it's your name. You don't remember anything, your dark eyes look down at your bandaged hands, not an inch of flesh is healed right now, everywhere is full of wounds, some have become infected, some have become scars.
You are now in the Elmir Empire, a beautiful and prosperous Empire. Somehow you have been taken care of directly by the royal palace, everyone here is kind to you, even if you do not understand their language, but it seems that their words mean good. The only people you can hear are Empress Iris and Princess Aisha, who are by your side for two days today.
"(Y/n)"
The gentle voice wakes you up from the train of thought, Princess Aisha, she is looking at you with worried eyes.
"How are you feeling? Does it hurt anywhere?"
You shake your head slightly, then your tired eyes can see how relieved she is to see you're okay. Anytime you see anxiety on people's faces, you realize that you are the cause of that anxiety.
"Tell me if you're uncomfortable, please! I'll handle everything."  Aisha gave you a reassuring smile, hoping to get some reaction from you. For the past two days, the priests have taken turns treating you. Your condition has improved significantly, you can eat normally and move around more. Even so, you still look empty, like a lifeless doll. Aisha hopes that after you can walk, she will take you for a walk around the palace grounds. It will certainly be very quick, the divine power of the priests will help you recover quickly.
You really can't help but feel grateful for the care and concern of everyone in the Elmir royal family, from the Empress, Princess to the servants, they are truly good people. You were sure of it after only two days of interacting with them, there really was no one who could care for another person with such incredible enthusiasm.
However, for Aisha.
To this day, Aisha can't forget the moment you were taken back to the palace, you almost stopped breathing, disheveled... and couldn't have looked more horrible. They can't imagine what you've been through, your body is full of wounds big and small, sickness and skin diseases. Anyone who saw your condition was dumbfounded, there were no words that could describe you then. They wonder if the people who make you like this are still human.
So cruel.
So evil.
Why would they treat a human being like that?
Even if you don't know them, their hearts won't allow them to leave you alone. Luckily, they narrowly saved your life.
Aisha finishes her flashbacks, she looks up at you, seeing your eyes staring at her startles her.
"W-what's wrong?"
You look at her intently, after a while, you open your mouth slightly, but then you stop. You feel like you want to say something to her. But somehow, you want to say something. You become confused, struggling to find a way to express your thoughts.
"You want to say something?"
Seeing that she understood, you quickly nodded. Aisha thought, then quickly ran out of the room, you looked at her puzzledly, Aisha came back very quickly, in her hand were a few sheets of paper with a pen and ink.
"We can communicate this way, if you can't already speak" Princess Aisha certainly couldn't hide her joy knowing you wanted to talk, because probably from the moment you woke up, apart from nodding or shaking your head to express your best friend's thoughts, you didn't express anything that sounded like you wanted to talk. Aisha is really curious what you want to say to her.
When you pick up the paper and pen from Aisha, you pause for a moment, then start writing something. Your hands trembling, the black letters trembling on the paper, the Princess stares at you intently, waiting for what you are writing. After you stop, you slowly hold up the paper in front of her, Aisha narrows her eyes, trying to see your indistinct zigzag handwriting clearly.
"Thanks"
"For was... take care of you?" Aisha looked up at you, meeting your expectant gaze. When you nod, she knows she's read exactly what you want to say.
Before she could say anything more, Aisha saw you start writing on paper, looking urgent and hurried, as if you were afraid you'd miss the time to speak your mind.
"Once I'm well, I'll leave right away."
As she read those words, Aisha frowned slightly.
"Why? Where are you going?" She asks you, leaving you momentarily confused.
"Go Home"
Go home.
That's what you want, even if there is no memory of your so-called 'home' in your mind.
Aisha can't help but be surprised, because since you regained consciousness from that coma, no one has told you about your hometown, maybe 'home' is not something you would think about now. But now, you tell her you want to go home. How can Aisha tell you that your home is now a ruin?
"(Y/n), you can only stay in Elmir for now..."
When the Princess says that, you look confused, your eyes on her waiting for an explanation.
"Well... You see, your health is still unstable, right?"
"Staying in Elmir will give you time to recuperate, and I and everyone will take care of you."
So... For now, please rest assured to stay in Elmir, okay?
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chateautae · 2 years
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I respect the boys’ decision, of course I do, it makes me sad that they felt this way and it makes me even sadder that they’re afraid of how’d we react. But what I’m afraid of is that, despite them saying multiple times that they’ll come back, that they simply won’t. A lot can happen during (a few months? a year? a few years?) they could meet someone and build a family, they could realize that they prefer acting or solo work more than group work, they could grow out of the whole bts thing now that they have time to be by themselves. Idk, I’m not being dramatic I’m just being realistic- I know a lot can happen when you have off time and I just don’t think they can say with certainty, as of today, that they will come back because they simply don’t know that for sure
Hey babes, I'm glad you could express how you feel, but everything will be okay <3 I think it's because of the fact that bts are certain about returning as a group that they could say what they said today! The boys are never insincere, and Jimin did say to take their words as they are, so that's exactly what we should do. They will live different lives for sure, and experience things that bring them new meanings, values, and perspectives that may make their feelings towards bts change, but it's something they honestly deserve. they deserve time to just be namjoon, seokjin, yoongi, hoseok, jimin, taehyung and jungkook. it's also important to remeber that the tannies themselves said they felt closer after being apart!! i don't think their feelings will change that drastically since the video shows just how much bts and army mean to them. living separately has already made them so much closer with each other, and i firmly believe that being apart in their solo work will also make them stronger once they're together again!! they'll still visit each other, film group stuff and be bts, but they'll just be focusing on their individuality instead.
a cute k-army said on twitter: "if all seven of them are the same colour, how can they form a rainbow?" the babies just want to cultivate their own colours and show it to the world, and i'll be ready with open arms to embrace anything they release!! let's trust bts and their words, they love us very deeply and always tell us things in confidence <33
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pheonix-inside · 1 year
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I love no longer being super crazy over ships. So glad I outgrew that. Now I'm able to chill with fics where everyone's best friends, I have an easier time multishipping, overall the fandom experience is more fun now.
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violetrainbow412-blog · 11 months
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Bolinus brandaris [S. R]
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
word count: 1.6k
and by public demand, part. 2
summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.
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"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.
Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.
You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.
“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.
“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”
"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.
"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"
"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”
"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.
“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.
Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.
"A scarf?"
“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"
"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”
“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.
“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.
"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"
"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.
You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.
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The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.
You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.
The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.
"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.
"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.
"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.
"You understand what?"
“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”
"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"
"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.
"I just like it. That's all”
"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.
"Good morning"
"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.
“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.
"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.
"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"
Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.
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bakugoushotwife · 3 months
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blessing and curse
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summary: yuuji is a wonderful boyfriend...you just wish he was able to fuck you... warnings: post shibuya, aged up duh, yuuji struggles with ptsd, night terrors, as well as anxiety, you both see therapists, oral (fem receiving), penetrative sex, fem!reader, pet names, (pretty girl, baby, cutie, etc), rough sex. wc: 3k a/n: this is my first yuuji piece nom nom nom i'm actually obsessed and soaking wet tbh i'm thinking thoughts for yuuji.........anyway to my lovely requester i hope you enjoy this <;3 jjk masterlist here
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yuuji feels things very intensely. it’s a blessing and a curse, though the latter is more often experienced than the former. guilt, loss, regret–all things that nearly swallowed him whole while he fought for his friends and the people of japan–for the whole world. it’s so hard to be him, to live with what he carries on his shoulders–on his soul. he’s unloveable. he’s the one who caused all of the pain—things would have been easier if he died. there’s a number of people whose lives ended because of and for him. he was only just adjacent to a murderer. months after the fighting ceased and the war was won, he would wake up numerous times through the night with night terrors. he couldn’t even call them nightmares because they weren’t fabrications of his imagination. they were all too real memories that kept making their rounds–reminding him that he would be forever burdened with a layer of hell no one else could claim to know about. 
he met you in the waiting room of his therapist’s office. he remembers seeing you and wondering what you could be talking to his specialist about. it meant you also had to be a sorcerer—clearly he couldn’t see a normal one about his specific traumas and baggage, and apparently neither could you. he remembers not even knowing you and his heart still hurting for the pretty young girl that must be hurting like him. he remembers hoping that you hadn’t been through anything like what he had—the anxious voice in the back of his mind wondering if somehow he caused your pain via sukuna’s rampages or the destruction and death that followed him. he remembers you meeting his eyes on a seemingly unremarkable thursday afternoon, catching him in the middle of one of his staring way too long episodes. you narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at him in amusement. 
the rest was easy. you were easy to talk to, to admire, to hold, to love. you made him feel intense things in a good way–in a way he had nearly given up on. his world had slowly become a mixed palette of blacks and whites and muted grays–but your smile brought color back. your touch made vivid purples and yellows; your laughter the brightest of pinks and the most warm oranges. you became the blessing where he was the curse, the savior of a damned man bound to paint on smiles and pretend that sacrificing his soul and everyone he’s ever loved was worth it. now he felt unimaginable comfort and love by getting to know you. his smiles weren’t so fake anymore—and the only things that woke him in the night was losing you. truly the only fear that yuuji itadori has left: cursing his blessing. 
you thought he was the best boyfriend around and an even better man. you’ve slowly but surely unraveled the reason he was visiting the therapist through his eventual opening up to you and telling you just a fraction of what he’s experienced in his life and you can understand his intimacy issues. see…yuuji is easy to love. he’s wonderful, attentive, sweet, careful, strong and chivalrous. but he won’t fuck you. you’re too nervous to push him any further—all too aware of his fears of letting anyone in, of loving and showing that in ways that make you vulnerable. he’s all too conscious of what it would mean—of the danger he would be putting you in.
there’s been many times here lately that you’ve thought that line will finally be crossed—heavy petting and make-outs that get you squirming in his lap and soaking through your panties. it always goes this way, no matter how innocent the two of you try to keep your dates. move night, game night, even cooking together ends up with yuuji’s tongue down your throat and his hands under your shirt. tonight is no different, some youtube video plays in the background—a forgotten video game walkthrough that yuuji had been paying careful attention to until you leaned in to rip it away with those teasing kisses to his jaw. you know exactly what buttons to press after four months of nothing past second base driving you to a point of restlessness. 
you just wanted him to see your perseverance. you would do this for as long as it takes, anything to prove that you’re here to stay. you want to make him comfortable enough to tear those walls down—the ones that make his eyes flutter shut and his hands fist at his pants in order to keep them to himself. his eyes close to will himself to concentrate on something–anything—other than the feeling of your warm lips tracing his pulse, smooth fingers sliding under his shirt to outline the dips and muscles of his torso. it’s not that he doesn’t want to this, he craves you like nothing ever before. your touch is the medicine bringing him back to life, but he can’t allow himself to ruin you—taint you. but as you move into his lap and change your kisses to more intense nips and sucks at his skin, his body betrays his mind. he can feel the blood rush to his cock as your thighs trap him beneath you, and he moans out at the same time you do. the pressure of your clothed cunt sitting against his needy dick has his hands moving before he can tell himself to stop. he grabs your waist, accidentally and automatically rutting up against the friction you offer with a hiss. 
“fuck, cutie.” he groans, your lips covering his parted and pouty ones to keep him from protesting further. his fingers only dig into your side as the two sides of his mind argue with each other. he wants you badly, your body slotted against his perfectly and the way you kiss him like you’re trying to touch his soul drives him crazy. anyone with a girlfriend as hot as you would be a fucking idiot to keep denying himself of her. his hands knead the warm flesh of your body as an instinct, his body knowingly responding to your advances. his tongue slides over yours in a frenzy, his head becoming fuzzy as saliva trails down his chin—something in him telling him to stop when his hands slide upwards to palm your chest. you cry out at the feeling—so starved for his affection that you know you’re soaking wet already. just his rough hands scraping over your sensitive nipples sends you into rutting rhythmic circles of your hips over the tent in his pants, breaking your sloppy kiss in order to remove your shirt fully in a silent show of what you wanted to happen next. 
“aw baby—you know i can’t,” he whines, his lips swollen and even pinker than usual. he drops his hold to your hips, making comforting circles over the bone beneath his grasp. your face drops to instant heartbreak and he can feel his own heart try to rip itself apart for making you so sad. he never thought about how this must affect you, a woman with needs and desires for her boyfriend. he knows this can’t last much longer or he’ll lose you anyway. the room is just a mixture of your heavy breathing and the monotone droning of the tv for a few moments, and then you whine in retaliation, picking up his hand and moving it back to your breast. you search his eyes, seeing the fear flickering in those brown embers of his. you just need to show him there’s nothing to be scared of, that you need him worse than you need the oxygen in this room and would do anything for him today and forever. 
“yuuji,” you gasp out in such a voice that he knows he won’t be able to hold back this time. four months of seeing your body in your cute date outfits and in his shirt after you’ve spent the night; the feeling of your curves under his fingers as he guides you to the safe side of the sidewalk or the swell of your hip as he guides you through the door he’s just opened—four months of draining his balls after he’s sent you home with nothing more than a few wet kisses and tit-squeezes. the way your eyes shine like you’re about to cry if he denies you one last time…it’s too much. “please—i need you,” you breathe out, reaching those gorgeously soft hands out to sweep against his cheeks, to plead with him to be a good boyfriend. he can’t make you suffer any longer—”i need you so bad yuuji, please don’t push me away…i’m your forever girl!” 
oh fuck. he might cum in his pants from hearing that alone. suddenly, silence falls upon his mind. he can only hear the echoes of your cries for him–no more voices in his head arguing about the best way to continue, only you. a guttural groan rips from his throat and he stands with your legs wrapped around his body, a broad hand snaking up your back to keep you pressed against him. you squeal a little at the sudden shift and the deep growl that he let out, his face now devoid of that playful man you’ve come to love. he looks so focused, so serious, his brow furrowed as he looks over your face. 
“i’m sorry i made you wait so long, pretty girl.” he nods, letting your body bounce on the bed as he’s set on immediately removing the remainder of your clothes. he pulls you to the edge, legs dangling over the sides. you almost think it must be too good to be true, sitting up on your elbows to catch a glimpse of that ravenous fire consuming his previously kind eyes. he’s leaned back to peel his own clothes off, but his eyes never leave your body. he looks over your lip pinched between your teeth to your pebbled nipples to the glistening slick coating your inner thighs. he doesn’t even know where to start, but he’s going to ensure that you’re finally taken care of. “i’m a dumbass—thought i was keeping you safer like that.” he mutters, leaning over to kiss the space between your ribcage. he makes his way to your jaw, licking a hungry stripe between your breasts and claiming your neck with bruising nips at the delicate flesh that greeted him. 
you’re set to mewling immediately, the flip switched in your boyfriend making you rub your legs together in anticipation. he chuckles and you can feel him smile against your skin as his hand snakes down to keep you from squirming. he quickly pecks your lips. “m gonna make it up to you now, baby girl.” his eyes are wide, but glazed over with affection. you nod, feeling his strong fingers dig into the supple flesh of your thigh to keep you from closing them, his abs raking over your sensitive clit as he lowers himself to his knees at the foot of the bed. your face burns as you realize what he’s going to do, but he doesn’t give you time to think about it before turning your mind to mush from the feeling of his fat tongue splitting your lips apart and breaching your tiny hole. he seems pleased by the way you react—back arching off the bed and hands gripping at the sheets from the surprising burn. it’s a good burn, the kind you’ve been craving for the months you’ve been with a man who loves you like he does, your wanton moans just cementing that his choice was the right one. he’s growing addicted to this already; your flavor on his tongue, your moans echoing in his ears and your thighs pressing in to the sides of his face. he feels your silky walls clamp down on his tongue, making his eyes roll back at the thought of putting his dick in something so tight. he slurps at the arousal slipping out, sliding his tongue to the hardened bud waiting at the top of your cunt. he wraps his tongue around your clit, making you jolt at the sudden increase in sensation. it’s amazing—goosebumps prickle out over your skin and you reach down to tug at the silky pink locks woven between your fingers. you can feel every nerve running through your body and how it builds with a fiery pleasure that you know only yuuji can give you. “oh my god—yuuji!” you cry out as that pleasure mounts to a tipping point. his teeth scrape against your hood to encourage you to fall over that line so he can see what he’s been denying you of for four achingly long months. 
you make the sweetest face when you cum, it has him closing a fist around his own dick to calm himself—the promise of having your pussy making him jerk at his own touch. you even sound so pretty as you shatter, legs jerking and your grip on his hair yanking almost painfully hard. it only makes yuuji smile wider, feeling a bubbly sense of satisfaction ripple in his own gut from making you feel so good. 
“nngh, yuuji–” you whine, your vision returning to normal after a few seconds of respite. he’s already pushing you back to the pillows, manhandling you into the bent position he wanted. you’re on your back, knees by your ears and a boyfriend giving you no time to be anxious about the angry and leaky horsecock sliding through your folds. you thought he was a sweet man, and maybe he still is–but his own excitement to have you has him forgetting his normal chivalrous behavior. “fuck–yuuji!” you claw at his biceps, fighting against that true splitting burn. his tongue was nothing compared to the girth he pierces you with—and he’s smiling so tenderly at your wiggling and struggling. 
“s’okay, cutie. you can take it, you’re already taking it!! didn’t you ask me to?” he raises a brow, face flashing with mock-confusion as your hands shove at his chest, all in an effort to get used to the feeling of him inside you. his thumb brushes your cheek, his other hand keeping the back of your thigh shoved back. “nyeh—you begged me! come on pretty girl–you gotta loosen up!” he laughs airily, moving the hand from your face back down to pinch and roll your aching clit. you jump at first, the touch sending another jolt of pleasure circulating to your brain–and then you relax enough for him to move. he’s got you folded in such a way that you can hardly breathe–or maybe that’s from how he slams into you recklessly, tip catching on your poor, innocent, cervix each time. it hurts, it burns everywhere—but it’s the best feeling in the world. his breathing grows ragged once he settled into a pace, brutally slamming into you in a way that led you to believe he wasn’t doing this on accident. 
soon, your hands around his biceps slip to your sides, eyes lulling into a pleasure-induced haze. you watch him, the twitch of his nose and the way his hair gets curly once it sticks to his forehead from his sweat. he’s perfect, and he’s finally giving you all of himself, really devoting himself to you, conquering any fear. you don’t mind if you’ll be bedridden for the next week—feeling his heavy cock in your chest from how hard he ruts into you—it would be well worth it to hear his grunts and whimpers of satisfaction, to feel the bruising grip he has on your body like he’s afraid you might disappear. it’s all so good, and exactly like you craved. “there she goes—takin’ it like a champ now!” he cheers you on, panting a little as he leans over your body and grabs the headboard, deepening his angle as if he wasn’t already fucking you brainless. 
the new angle makes your jaw drop in absolute earth-shattering bliss. you two could be the only people left on earth and you would never know—to consumed in yuuji itadori to notice anything else. you’re back to pawing at his chest, the coil in your gut building rapidly as he fucks into you like his life depends on it. you wanted everything, he’ll make sure he gives you everything. the headboard creaks, the bed moans with you and you truly do worry he might break it for a split second–but his broken moan of your name swallows up any wandering thoughts. a bead of sweat slides down the slope of his nose before it drops onto your cheek, the evidence of his hardwork. he moans your name again, warning you that the end was approaching. you nod as he moves your legs to his shoulders, leaning as close as possible to wrap you in his arms and kiss you in short, desperate bursts. he treasures you more than he thought possible, that look you give him right before your eyes roll back into your head from your orgasm makes his own dick jump within your vice-grip of a cunt. you make that sweet face again, a face he knows he’s hooked on—your pussy spasming around him to welcome his fat load gets him to make his own kind of special and beautiful face, lip between his teeth and adam’s apple bobbing at the same pace his balls slap into your backside. you swear you can feel his heart beating, his lungs filling and emptying as he flattens his chest to yours and fills your guts with his loving cum. he keeps thrusting even after he’s done, just watching your face contort and shift, your body bouncing in his arms. he likes the ache of overstimluation, and loves the way you mewl and hug him, eyes all sleepy and far away. 
“that’s it, you did it, so so good.” he praises in a soft tone, kissing your lips and then your nose and then your forehead with equal adoration. “can’t believe i kept us from feeling like that!” he shakes his head, kissing your cheeks to continue showering you in his love if not to keep you awake. he sits back up and slides out of you, quickly snatching his t-shirt up to catch the spillage. it’s hot, watching his seed trickle from your abused pussy—he whines a little at the sight, puppy dog eyes flickering over your body as if to wonder if you could take another round…
now that you’ve gotten him to start, you may never get him to stop.
1K notes · View notes
byechristopher · 5 months
Text
I hate you, too.
– CHRIS STURNIOLO SMUT.
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Author's note: okay so, I was listening to Les – Childish Gambino, and this idea came to mind because uhm, I love Chris, I love parties, I love angry, messy, toxic sex. So, sue me. I got carried away so, super long. Do not copy/steal my work. :)
Warnings: this, once again, is pure filth. Super long, didn't proof-read so fml, angry & rough sex, toxic sex, slapping, choking, semi-public. Just a mess. Minors dni!
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The lights are so damn bright in here, I can see blue, red, purple, all kinds of colors, everywhere. Not that I'm really complaining, this place is so dark that I can barely see anything – only when the lights flash. I can see people everywhere, their silhouettes, dancing, kissing, drinking.
I quickly pour myself a drink, making sure I'm keeping it safe in my hand; I haven't been in a house party in ages. But I remember how messy they get, I know everyone will pass out at some point. I'm trying to search my friend group with my eyes but it is almost impossible – how big is this goddamn house?
"Hi! You made it!" a friend screams when she sees me and I smile. I try to greet everyone but my eyes meet someone's face that I really didn't want to see here. My ex.
"What is he doing here?" I groan, turning to glare at my friend.
"I'm sorry, babes, he literally just came. I texted you. He's friends with the host, Jake, I didn't know." she has an apologetic face and I check my phone to realise she did text me about it. Fucking hell.
I can feel his blue eyes on my body, burning it like daggers on fire. I try to avoid him as much as possible and the fact that he looks this good, doesn't make it very easy. His hands are shoved into the pockets of his jeans and I can't help but steal a few glances. He's already looking at me. He's smirking.
Fucking asshole.
"Hi, pretty." he is next to me now, dangerously close to me, as I take a sip of my drink.
"What do you want, Chris?" I roll my eyes.
"That's not how you treat your ex." he scoffs, looking around playfully before looking at me again. I turn my head to look at him, too.
"Let's not open that topic here." I try to push him away, his body doesn't really move.
"I agree. Let's talk about the car sex we had a few days ago." he smiles and you would think he's talking about the most innocent thing. His hands still in his pockets, he looks cool and unfazed by my angry glare.
"Shut the fuck up, Chris. Don't you have anywhere else to go, anything else to do?" I yell. Now I'm facing him, my body turned towards him.
"I'd like to do you." he comes closer to my ear and I sigh, downing my drink before turning my back on him. I am afraid I won't be able to hold myself back this time either.
"Well, I don't."
"Yeah?" his chin is touching my shoulder and I can feel his jeans pressed against my butt, "so if I touched you now, you wouldn't be wet?" he hums.
I am not wet. I am dripping. But that doesn't mean anything, right.
"You're not allowed to touch me anyway." I dodge his fucking question.
"Well, you weren't saying that when you were pressed against the car door." he chuckles, "you're wet, then." he whispers but it's enough for me to hear.
"Not for you. Maybe for your friend, Jake." I smirk, knowing this will stop his attack. He's always been extremely jealous. So have I.
"Fuck you." he almost growls in my ear, but the smirk still stays on. He turns me around and as soon as he says that, one of our favourite songs starts to play. Les by Childish Gambino, "fuck you.. can I have this dance?"
I can't help but chuckle a little, which I try to hide immediately. The timing, the line he used from the song, this songs specifically, him. Fucking Chris.
I quickly grab him and drag him in the center of the room that we're in, he holds onto my hand tightly and brings me closer, pressing my back against his chest. We dance to the music, he's not moving much but I can tell he's enjoying the little show I put on for him. My butt is pressed against him then whole time and I can feel the bulge in his jeans. Good.
I turn around and continue to dance with him, my hands traveling to his back to grip his shirt and pull him as close as possible. The part in the song that we love the most comes on and he cups my cheeks, pressing his forehead against mine as he looks into my eyes. We're both singing the lyrics.
"Oh, girl, I wanna know, are you ready to cry? 'Cause I'm no good, no good.." his playful smile never leaves his face.
"Oh, girl, I wanna try, I'm an awful guy and I'm always away.." my lips curl up into a playful smirk as well, my hands sneak under his shirt and I dig my nails into his lower back.
"And I'm tryin' to say, I'm a piece of shit.." he stops singing and the next second, he's kissing me. I fucking hate myself for kissing him back as hungrily as I did.
He grabs my hand and makes me follow him – nothing else matters, as the song says. Only us. We practically run up the stairs and I see a wooden door, he seems like he knows this place. My friend did tell me he's friends with the host.
He opens the door and then locks it once we're inside the room. It's a bathroom, not very big and the light is so dim, I'm not sure if it is there to match the party's vibe or if this dude just doesn't like actual lighting in the house. We don't waste anytime – Chris picks me up and sets me down on the counter next to the sink, my dress rides up just enough for him to move closer, pushing my legs apart with his body. We can still hear the music from here.
I take his shirt off immediately, throwing it somewhere behind him before wrapping a finger around his chain, pulling him closer for yet another hungry kiss. He grabs the hem of the dress to push it up, my skin meeting the cold counter but it is soon replaced by Chris' large hands. He squeezes my butt, pushing me forward so that his bulge rubs against me. He sneaks a hand in between us, his fingers rubbing my soaked panties.
"Is this for Jake, hm?" he grabs my bottom lip in between his teeth, biting it roughly.
"Maybe." I moan, leaning forward to take his nipple in my mouth, flicking it with my tongue.
He moans, "why are you here then?" he puts pressure on my clothed pussy and let go of his nipple, throwing my head back.
"Fuck off." I groan, moving my hips so that I'm rubbing myself on his fingers.
"You're dying to have my dick inside of you." he whispers, chuckling.
"And you're dying to have me in any way you can." I push him away, jumping off the counter and quickly pulling his jeans down together with his Calvin Klein boxers, "isn't that why you keep following me around, hm?" spitting on my own hand, I grab his dick, rubbing up and down while staring into his eyes the whole time. They're filled with lust, anger, passion. He moans.
"Fuck off." he groans this time, his head falls on my shoulder as I jerk him off, both of his hands grab the counter on each side of me. He thrusts into my hand.
All of a sudden, he slaps my hand away and turns me around, making me press both of my hands on the mirror in front of us, pushing my lower back down so that I arch my back and spread my legs. His hands are on my breasts now, pushing my dress now so that they're free for him to see and touch. With one hand he pushes the dress up to reveal my ass as well, the dress now only covering my stomach and a small part of my back. I don't dare to move, I only watch him as he pulls my panties down – he spreads my ass and spits, not that he needed that, I'm already dripping.
"What the fuck are you waiting for?" I groan, pushing my back against him.
"Beg for it." he slaps my ass a few times as he smirks.
"Chris, fucking hell. Fuck me already." I say but he's not pleased. He slaps my skin again and I groan, gently hitting the mirror out of frustration. His cock rubs against my clit and I lose it, "fucking.. Chris! Please, fuck me. I want you inside me." I whine. He smiles. Thank fuck.
He finally pushes inside of me and my eyes roll to the back of my head as I look at him in the reflection of the mirror. He pushes his cock all the way inside me and grabs my hair in a ponytail, wrapping it around his hand to push me back every time he thrusts in.
"Fuck.. fuck.." I moan, licking my fingers before dragging them down my body to rub my clit, always looking at him, as he fucks me roughly. My fingers touch his dick every now and then, it makes him moan a little louder. He leans forward to sink his teeth into the skin of my shoulder as he watches me cry out in both pain and pleasure – with his free hand, he grabs my hand that was rubbing my clit, bringing to his mouth to lick the juices off my fingers. I almost cum.
My breasts bounce with every movement, he thrusts into me and I push back against him. He pulls out of me and I curse under my breath. He turns me around and places me on the countertop again, wrapping an arm around my waist as he guides his dick so that he can start fucking me hard again. I grab a fistful of his hair, tugging it harshly when he pushes into me; it makes him lightly slap my cheek before wrapping his fingers around my neck, choking me. I gasp and slap him back, grabbing his throat with my hand, too.
"I fucking hate you." I moan, his eyes staring into mine.
"Yeah.. turns me on.. love it." he moans and smirks, and that's all it takes for me to come closer to my high.
"Chris.. Chris.. I'm gonna.." I whine and he lets go of my neck, hugging me close and pressing his forehead against mine as I let go of his neck as well.
"That's it, baby.. fuck.. will you cum for me? Hm?" he says and that's closest thing to affection that we showed tonight. I nod and moan loudly, holding onto him as tight as I can. I cum, trembling, and he does the exact same thing, moaning my name over and over again.
We stay like this for God knows how long – he's still inside of me and I almost pass out in his arms, his hand rubs my back soothingly.
"You okay?" he whispers, as if it was a crime to be affectionate with each other again. We used to be together after all.
"Yes.. you?" I whisper back, the feeling of not wanting to let go of him just yet comes back and I try to push it away as fast as I can.
"I am okay, yes." he mumbles and after letting me know, he slowly pulls out of me, earning a wince from me, "sorry." he mutters.
"Do you want me to take you home?" he says and I sigh. This is wrong.
"It's best if you don't." I whisper, looking at him and I can see the vulnerability in his eyes too.
"That's true." he nods and fixes my dress, pushing his boxers and pants up right after.
"I still hate you." I mutter. I don't want him to leave.
"Yeah." he wears his shirt, he grabs my chin and leaves a sweet kiss on my lips, "me too."
And with that, he leaves.
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webslingingslasher · 3 months
Text
Care less
for the frat!peter girlies.
Peter blames his aunt. 
May went and raised him to look forward to the middle of february. She would make little boxes and handwritten notes tied up with a fun-sized candy bar. May told him it was a day to celebrate love in its entirety. For a friend, for a teacher, for just the sake of love existing everywhere you went. 
Except, not everyone likes valentine's day. Some even hate it. Some would loathe the day so much that Peter feels like an idiot for caring. Dinner reservations that were going to be ignored, flowers that would go wilted and chocolates that were never going to get eaten. 
Peter has a handful of nothing and the one time he really wanted to outperform himself, it was brushed off and it was his aunt’s fault for getting his hopes up about valentine’s day. He had been so thoughtful too, planning weeks ahead to book a dinner slot and a fun date. Not to mention the mini fortune he spent on roses, not that you were a giant fan of roses but every girl deserves a bouquet on valentine’s, even if they triple in price. Peter even bought a second bunch of your favorite kind, just to prove he cared. 
It meant nothing. His efforts meant nothing and maybe he shouldn’t have assumed, but he never thought that you’d hate the holiday. It was a day entirely built around feelings, around love- and you just rolled your eyes at him. 
“I fucking hate valentine’s day.” You said it like it was nothing, taking two bites of a banana and handing it over to Peter. He asked if you were excited, maybe even hinting at that you should be excited. Peter Parker was about to romance the hell out of you. But not anymore. 
“Explain that one for me?” A toss, the peel falls into the trash can. You shrug as if you’ve never thought about it before, but it’s something you’ve held in your chest for as long as you can remember. 
“It was a holiday created by girls who didn’t feel loved enough by their boyfriends, or something. I think the practice is stupid, you should treat me good and do nice things for me everyday, not just once a year. And everything is crowded! Everyone has the same lame idea about dinner and a movie and flowers and… it’s just not something I buy into.” 
Peter feels every bit of him curl up and die inside. Valentines is his third favorite holiday, he adores the pinks, reds, and purples. He loves seeing couples of every stage, the beginning stages or lifelong partners. They all love the same; with everything in them. 
“Well, actually, I do have a confession. Chocolate covered strawberries. They’re outrageously expensive, but I buy them every year. If you’re wondering, I was hoping we could boycott the baby holiday and eat some strawberries or something.” 
A small lift in his heart, it’s something. You’d be happy with one thing and he could deliver that, but first he has to try and sway you, right? Peter needs to preach what valentine’s is about, he needs you to understand how lovely it is. 
“I’m surprised you hate it so much. I figured you’d love it, since it’s pink and feelings, and stuff.” You wink at him, you think it’s a joke and Peter’s in the same boat as you. “I know, right? It always seemed so gimmicky to me, I think.” 
“That doesn’t mean it’s bad.” You pretend gag, Peter feels his heart sink into the hollow of his chest. “You’re right, it’s cringy and that makes it so much worse.” Peter doesn’t agree, not even in the slightest. Nothing about it is cringy, there’s nothing embarrassing about showing you love someone. 
“Right. It’s cringy and a gimmick and everyone who participates is stupid.” Maybe he’s a little cynical, it hits harder when you nod with exaggeration. “So glad you agree, petey!” He doesn’t. Peter couldn’t be further away from your opinion but he’s really not in the mood to be shut down or judged, so, he just changes the subject and tries to ignore everything crumbling apart in the back of his mind. 
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“Isn’t this cute?” 
You squint your eyes when you read the card, a tiny smile shows. “It’s cute. Not worth…” You snatch the glorified cardstock and flip it, your eyes widen, you pretend to choke on the dollar amount. “Ten dollars, holy shit. For some glitter? Fuck that.” 
You want it out of your hold, scared that if even a speckle spread you’d be forced to buy it. “What happened to the good old days of making your own card? My mom used to eat that up.” 
Peter delicately sets the card down, he tries to see it how you do, but he can’t. Sure, it’s wildly marked up, but wouldn’t your partner be worth the price? Peter would buy the moon for you if he could, a ten dollar Hallmark card won’t be his holdup. 
But, maybe you’d like a handmade one more. He can do that. 
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Peter’s trying to be mindful of your opinion while also planting the seed that valentine’s isn’t all that bad into your brain. It’s days away and all he can hear in the back of his mind is ‘I fucking hate valentine’s day.’ 
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god! Peter- do you fucking see this?” 
A romantic gesture? A public display of love and admiration? Dozens of carefully inflated heart shaped balloons? A girl crying into the arms of her friend while her partner showers her with flowers. Is it the love? Is that what you’re pointing out? 
“Yeah, it’s-” 
“Disgusting.” 
“-cute.” Peter frowns, is that what you really thought of valentines? Nothing was swaying your mind, Peter thinks that you’re more solidified in your mindset than before. 
“I’m sorry, trouble, but I’m finding it hard believing you hate valentine’s day.” It’s like he just called you a slur, you pull your hand from his and stuff it into your jacket pocket. 
“I don’t hate it, I loathe it. What do you see watching that? Personally, I’m seeing gravel covered flowers and wasted space that turns into deflated balloons. Fuck that.” Peter shakes his head, you’re seeing it wrong. “It’s about the gesture.” 
“It’s about how you love someone so much, there aren't enough things in the world to buy to show it, and there are never the right set of words to say it quite right. I’ll buy all the flowers in the world for you, and I’ll use all the air in my lungs for these balloons but it’ll never match the love I have for you.” 
Peter clears his throat. “That's what I see, anyways. I think valentine’s day is an excuse to be a little cringy and basic because we all want that sometimes.” He might’ve finally broken through, but you crack a grin and bump your shoulder into his. 
“Ah, yes, because I’m so unfulfilled that a man has never gotten me a teddy bear for valentine’s day.” Would you want one? He could get you one. Or could that be a reason you might detest the holiday, not that he’d ever take your opinion for resentment or bitterness. 
“Have you ever had a valentine?” A small stumble, your hand is tied into his again. “Besides elementary, nah. And honestly, I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.” 
‘I should be happy so I don’t have to deal with all that stuff.’ But, now you do, don’t you? 
“Trouble, you do realize you’re my valentine this year, right? And I’m yours?” You feel your breath catch, no, you hadn’t realized. It’s always just been another day for you and you assume the same for Peter, it’s not like there was much to celebrate. 
“It’s also just a day that ends in Y.” Is that really the answer you have? It’s just another day to you, even if you finally have someone to claim? You might not care about the holiday, but Peter does and he’s going to get his valentine’s day, no matter what. 
And you’re going to enjoy a handmade card. 
And a teddy bear. 
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Peter’s finger-combing his hair after a shower, he’s had the reservation for weeks, but he also wasn’t aware of your detestment towards red hearts and arrows. 
“Wanna grab some dinner wednesday?” If he didn’t say it by name he’s hoping you won’t scream bloody mary on him. “Sure.” A smile washes over Peter’s face, it drops in a second. “Wait, isn’t that valentine’s day? Ha, yeah, no thank you. You, me, and the entire city? Fuck that.” 
‘Fuck that, fuck that, fuck that.’ Weeks boiled into nothing. “But, if you wanna cuddle and watch a movie I’m down.” It’s something. He’d get to give you flowers and a card and a teddy bear and he can’t forget the strawberries. You told him you loved them. 
“Good with me, trouble.” 
Peter tried to sway your mind, he tried to make you enjoy the love and glitter and colors. But you hated it all. So all he has to do is ditch the flowers and the dinner and just… do nothing. 
Peter’s first real valentine and all he has to do is… nothing. 
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Three rose bouquets tossed onto his closet floor, it was haphazardly done. Petals scattered around the cellophane, some even reached to his shoes. They were thrown in without care, they were hidden. 
But they were beautiful. A few front buds have taken a beating, but the others were fully blossomed and lively. You’ve never seen roses in such a vivid red, their petals almost like velvet under your fingertips, their smell unlike any other. 
The thorns have been expertly shredded, nothing but smooth, soft stems in their wake. It doesn’t matter if Peter didn’t mean to have you see them, they were too gorgeous to leave locked away in a dark room. They deserved the affection water and sunlight would give them. 
You clutched all three in your arms, the weight welcomed. You laid them out nicely across his bed, the third bouquet dropped a small card and you picked it right back up. 
‘Trouble- 
This day was made for you. 
Charlie’s at 8. 
Yours, 
Peter’
You bit back a smile. Charlie’s? It’s nice, too nice. And expensive. Peter got you reservations at Charlie’s? Holding the card to your chest you nearly squeal, you have no idea how he kept the secret from you. Or the roses. 
When you hear his bedroom door open you spin, waiting for him to be in the doorway so you can place a thousand kisses. Instead it’s Ethan and he looks surprised. “You’re here?” He points to the flowers, “Peter gave you those?” 
“I found them in his closet, he just tossed them in here! And he must’ve forgotten to tell me about Charlie’s.” Ethan doesn’t smile with you, he’s not sharing any joy. For a second you start to wonder if you were the person who was supposed to receive the gifts. 
“He didn’t forget.” You scrunch your face at him, “I think he did and I need to start getting ready now. Ethan, do you know how nice Charlie’s is? It’s fucking fancy.” You’re not prepared, you don’t have anything that screams Charlie’s worthy in Peter’s closet. 
“No, you’re not hearing me. There is no Charlie’s and there weren't supposed to be roses. I was supposed to get them before you got here, but, here we are. No roses and no Charlie’s.” You smack at his arms, pulling at his fingers to drop your flowers. 
“They’re mine!” Ethan’s on a mission to steal them, and he’s not being gentle. 
“No, you didn’t want them.” 
You watch him for a second, how could he say that, of course you want them. Thirty six reminders of Peter, how could you ever say no? You fight for what's yours, Ethan allows you to keep one bouquet. 
“I do want them!” 
Ethan’s not being nice to you tonight, he’s gruff with his response. “No. You didn’t.’ 
“You keep saying didn’t! I never said I didn’t want…” 
Except you did. Just like you said you didn’t want to get dinner with Peter. You feel terrible, you feel like crying. He’d had this planned for weeks and the whole time all you did was poke fun and degrade the holiday not knowing you were crushing him behind the scenes. 
You wanted the flowers, but you didn’t deserve them. You hand over the last bouquet silently. 
“I think it’s best if you pretend you didn’t see these.” You can’t imagine the ache Peter must have in his chest, he planned something out just for you to stomp all over it. It’s not about the value, it was the gesture. He can’t tell you how he feels, but taking you out to one of the nicest places in the city, where you know it has a month minimum reservation list makes you understand him just a little bit better. 
“This is so bad, Ethan. This is so,” you suck in air, “so bad.” 
“It’s not terrible,” a crinkle when he shifts weight. “But it’s not great.” You wince, if you could, you’d go back in time and shove your foot in your mouth, or tell yourself to shut the fuck up. 
“Well, I mean, what the fuck?! It’s fucking Peter! How was I supposed to know he was pro valentines day?”
“How was he supposed to know you were anti valentines day?” 
You sink to the bed and hold your head in your hands, “I just want Peter right now.” You want to hug him and kiss him and tell him how sorry you were. Ethan hesitates for a second, before stepping closer to lay the flowers across your lap. 
“You found them. They’re yours.” You protect them from being taken, but still have self-pity. “I don’t deserve them.” Ethan scoffs, “of course you do. Everyone deserves pretty flowers.” 
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You pout at yourself in the mirror and fix any smudges. Brushing out any stray wrinkles your newest dress might’ve made on the way over. Ethan had very kindly instructed a pledge to pick you up an outfit so you could change before Peter got back. 
With minutes to spare, he’s back and taking a deep breath at your appearance. “Wow.” A surprised hum when you kiss him, you wipe red from his bottom lip while you apologize. “I’m so sorry, petey.” 
“For what?” A look around the room, red roses give him the reason. “Oh. Hey, it’s no big deal and I-” A frown when you silence him by holding a finger to his lips. 
“I’m sorry. I found those flowers and all I could think about was you and how much it meant to me that you got those for me, then I saw the card and I couldn’t believe you got us reservations and I just felt… special. I’ve never had a valentine, but I get it now. It’s just a day you get to dote on me extra hard.” 
Another surprise kiss, “and if you didn’t already cancel I think we can get to Charlie’s on time. But if you did, that’s okay. Because I think those are the most lovely flowers I have ever gotten, and I might have seen a little teddy bear in there but I didn’t wanna get too presumptuous.” 
This time, Peter kissed you. “There’s also a homemade card.” 
“You didn’t!” You fall in closer to his chest, his hands can have free reign tonight, you wore the dress just for him. 
“I did. I even wrote a little poem.” 
A chaste kiss, “just when I think you can’t get better.” 
“There’s also glow in the dark mini golf planned for after.” A peck, “so thoughtful and handsome.”
A whisper, he’s got blown pupils and hoping he’d get another kiss. “And your strawberries are in the fridge.” 
Your hearts about to explode, “fuck, I love-” you stop yourself, but you heard it and so did Peter. He brushes it off, “love?” Fuck it, you’ll both keep circling around it. 
“Yeah, I love love.” 
A hungry kiss, a squeeze to the back of your thighs. “Yeah, I love love, too.” 
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beforeimdeceased · 5 months
Note
IM SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART OF CRYBABY
CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT7
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pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.
synopsis: make it go away…
warnings: cunnilingus + fingering (r!recieving)
a/n: oh wow. oh wow. this was actually quite fun to write and i wanted to cry half way through because ironically enough my ex is being mean to me lmao 😭 i’m trying to cut contact and she’s just teasing me like “oh is she really leaving this time? really??” i’ve had ENOUGH
And I'm already actin' like a dick, know what I mean? So you might as well stick it in
masterlist.
the party is nothing like their usual after parties, but to be fair, you hadn’t been to one of these in months. crowds of people in their best clothes grinding against each other. dina onstage djing while jesse dances behind her. whispering sweet things in her ear. you spot a clear target in the crowd and walk down the stairs towards her.
flashing hues of red, blue, green, and purple cloud your vision as you struggle to approach abby. she decided to show her fucking face again, remembering she was your ride back home. once you push through everyone, you tap her broad shoulder and pull her to the side.
“where you been?” you lean against her, clearly gone. not in an intoxicated way, but a mental way. she could see it in your face. in your eyes. in the sunken areas underneath. in the way you were leaning like you were in pain. you fix your posture, putting more walls up. you could tell she was seeing through you.
“are you okay?” she furrows her brows, holding her hand out to touch your cheek. you dodge it. “why the fuck wouldn’t i be?” you spat. she places the tips of her index and thumb finger on the bridge of her nose, scrunching her face, and sighs. “i should’ve never said that to you. i was still mad at ellie and i took it out on you. i’m sorry—“
“oh fuck it. who cares? everybody keeps treating me like a punching bag and you know what? punching bags don’t have feelings. i don’t want to feel anymore i just—“
she’s looking at you horrified now. watching ellie take full effect over you. all her cruelty submerging itself into your brain. slowly acting as a parasite on the you she used to know. pieces of that girl were being lost. she was watching it happen in real time.
“i—fuck i need to get you out of here.”
“but i just got here abs. and we haven’t seen ellie—“
as if it was on cue, ellie appears from a gap in the crowd. her eyes meet yours, and she rushes over to you as she watches abby wrap her arms around you and try to lead you out.
“wait. let me talk to her.” ellie grabs your arm.
“you better fucking let go or you’re gonna loose all your fucking fingers.” abby chimes up, pulling you towards her. ellie laughs. “i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but you only get one of those. and that was it.”
“oh really?”
“guys seriously.” you pull out of both of their grasps. “enough. i’m not a fucking baby. everybody always treats me like i’m some fucking fragile fucking baby. fuck off.” you look between the two of them. “we’re at a goddamn party, so let’s party.”
the music is louder than it was before. you let it take over your body, taking one of each girls hands into your own and leading them into the crowd. body grinding against them to the beat of the song.
“listen, i really need to talk to you!” ellie yells over it. abby is behind you snaking a hand around your waist to pull you closer to her. maneuvering her body to move the way yours was. “no way in hell is that happening.” she yells back for you.
ellie’s thinking about how hard she wants to punch her. while she’s looking at the way she’s holding you. while you’re smiling. while she balls her fist up and her knuckles turn white. while her breathing starts to calm when she focuses on your hand still in hers, prompting you to dance.
“we’ll talk after this then, okay? at the hotel?” her tone is hopeful.
she’s being such a party pooper. prying you for an answer, making it hard for you to enjoy the moment. you feel a rush of emotions creeping in. another memory, another after party.
a very unhappy ellie that’s made a simple mistake onstage. an unnoticeable strum of the wrong string. it was fucking her up. she was drunkenly stumbling around until someone had started to help her sober up. then she stumbled across you. sweet, angelic, kind, perfect and happy you. enjoying the fucking party. ofcourse, you’d left crying that night.
you feel the tears welling up but you swallow them down. “fine let’s go talk ellie, since you’re begging so fucking much. i’ll be right back abs.” you reply.
she leads you to a secluded bathroom in the far back. holding your hand and dragging you along like purse. she closes and locks the door, leaning against it.
there are fucking tears threatening to spill, you can hear it in her voice when she speaks up. “i don’t—fuck i don’t know what i’ve done to you.”
you scoff.
“no i mean i do. i fucked you up. fuck. how do i fix it? what do you want me to do?”
you’re transported back again. another bathroom, holding ellie as she cries into you. switches to screaming at you, then crying into you again. blaming you for the guitar string mistake. blaming you for her forgetting the lyrics onstage. telling you that you’re truly useless, and she has no idea why dina and jesse drag you around with them.
why won’t it go away?
“make it go away.” you look into her glossy eyes. interlocking your fingers with hers and looking up at her with desperate eyes. a little bit of the old you slipping in before your face molds into a devious expression.
“make it fuzzy. make me forget. make it go away.”
she’s confused at first, and then she laughs cockily. she’s laughing as you pull her closer. she’s laughing as she pushes you up against the counter with a fervor, finding your low grunt of pleasure pure ecstasy.
her lips crash into yours, hands grappling into your waist. “i’m sorry.” she pulls away then dives back in. “i’m sorry.” she kisses your cheek. “i’m so fucking stupid.” she kisses your jawline. “let me fuck all of this away, okay?” she whispers into your ear.
your mind is growing fuzzy with her hands all over you. tugging up your shirt to kiss and lick and smile against your skin, down your chest to your stomach. tugging on your pants and your underwear. spreading your legs, pushing them apart before attaching her lips to your dripping cunt. tongue slipping in between your folds spreading your wetness to your clit.
you slip your hands into her messy hair, tugging when she sucks harder. slapping her tongue against your bud. the vibration of her humming hard against your heat. she’s eating you out and she’s being so fucking sloppy with it. she’s making a mess of you. making your legs tremble underneath you. you hadn’t realized you’d been crying out for her. actually crying. tears of pleasure were spilling down your face as you moaned her name.
she pulls away when she realizes, hands cupping your face to wipe them away. “i’m making you cry again.” she states.
you open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off by a moan getting pushed out of your throat when her fingers slip into your sloppy sopping hole. curved to hit a spot that was pure euphoria. better than drugs. better than revenge. you were intoxicated. feeling a knot in your stomach start to build as ellie stares into your teary eyes.
she looks like she’s about to say something but she chooses to kiss you instead. on your forehead. on your neck. on your tear stained cheeks. on your pouted lips.
in, out. in, out. at an unsympathetic pace, she’s pounding into you so hard you can’t think. she’s doing exactly what she promised. she’s making it all fuzzy for you. she’s helping you forget. she’s helping you feel something other than pain.
you feel yourself coming undone, throwing your head back as you reach your peak. her lips are at your ear as she whispers softly.
“there you go baby. i got you. it’s okay. i’m sorry. just let it go.”
and you do. you let it all melt away as the pleasure pins and needles run up and down your body. as your eyes roll back. as you forget. forget the hurt. forget the past. forget how to feel.
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ggsbooks123 · 6 months
Text
Memory Garden
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peeta mellark x female mc (Jude Slone)
summary; you made haymitch promise, if it came down to you or Peeta that he’d save Peeta. And he did. But now you’re back from the Capitol with one thing certain, Peeta Mellark is the one true enemy.
warnings: angst angst angst, mean thoughts ab peeta beloved and honestly just a lot of writing i didn’t need to do
———
Peeta did this.
The mantra floated through my head, as I yanked on the restraint again.
He’s the reason everyone you love is against you.
Another yank.
He blew up District 12
“Jude, feeling hungry yet?” Haymitch’s voice breaks the static but the mantra just quietens but doesn’t stop. My hand drops the bind.
“What do you have?” It was a better response than i’d given lately. What if Peeta tried to kill me and poisoned my portion… I couldn’t risk it. “No, I don’t want it”
He sighs, still coming towards me with the tray “I promise you, Peeta doesn’t want you dead. You know that, think”
I scowled, “I know what I saw. I know what he did. He’s a monster, Haymitch. Don’t make me, I dont want his filthy blood on my hands” He scoffed, dropping the tray onto the table next to me.
“Let’s hope lover boy comes and feeds you bevause I’m not putting up with this” And with that he leaves the room.
I glanced at the tray, tomato soup with toast coated in possibly cheese, but it’s not the delicious toast that catches my eye, the soup, it’s not red. They’ve added ingredients to make it appear more orange… Not bright orange.
A sunset.
“I still remember that Christmas he brought me that green sweater. Green doesn’t suit me” I say, the air was brisk and I hated walking in the Winter but I couldn’t turn Peeta down when he came to my door.
“I refuse to believe you look bad in anything” I scoff, glad it’s cold knowing he might take that as thhe reason my cheeks are now red. “What is your favourite colour?”
I raise my eyebrow at him “I’m sure there are better things to talk about then my favourite colour”
He watches me as we walk for a moment “I don’t see anything more important” It makes me slow to a stop, “Tell me, please. I want to know”
I look to him, his kind blue eyes and blond hair that looks incredibly soft without all those products they use during interviews, he looks beautiful.
“It used to be red but I think i’m leaning towards purple” I shrug, “It’s only fair that i’ve revealed that secret you tell me yours”
He smiles before looking up at the sun, it’s setting letting the streaks of orange paint the sky “Orange, right there. It’s the second most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen” I glance at him unsure as to why he’d say second until I see the look in his eyes.
My head snaps at the memory, cruel and unforgiving. That’s what Peeta was, and he would hurt me so I had to kill him before he tried first.
His face twists in the memory as I replay it over and over again, he doesn’t look like himself, Hatred flared in a moment that was full of pure adoration. I see it now like i’m looking through a camera at the two of us.
He looks like he loves me… Then his eyes lose their spark like a snap and he’s spitting awful words at me, one’s ill never forget.
I’ll never forget he’s the reason i’m like this.
The food goes cold and I go another day without eating and under sedation after I nearly come out of binding when they try to insert the needle into my arm to get food into my body.
I awake in an empty room but there’s a buzz in the air, I look to the mirror across from me. I look better than I did the first time I looked inside, I’d look better if I ate proper food but I can’t, he wants me dead and he won’t fail again.
The door hisses open bringing my attention away from my strangely hair, Katniss stands at the door, tears in her eyes.
“You need to eat something” She whispers but the room is so quiet i’m not surprised if she can hear my blaring thoughts or the alarm going off in my head.
“Get out” I spit, turning away from her. Katniss was close to Peeta, never too close for respect of me which I hated now, she should have stopped whatever was forming between the two of us. Now it’s this. “I don’t want to see you.”
“It’s been months, I thought-“ She tries to speak but she stops when my head snaps to her aswell, her eyes are searching my face. I still look awful, I know that and it seems she still hasn’t come to terms with what I had gone through. Why don’t they see it’s his fault? Always.
“He’s the reason this happened to me, Katniss. And you’re still going to side with him. If you don’t kill him then he’ll kill me Katniss, Don’t you see!” I scream, her back hits the door and it hisses open and my heart stops.
There, he is. He’s not expecting the door to open, the surprise on his face is evident as those blue eyes bore into mine and I steel myself preparing for the hatred, his attempts to end my life.
But neither happen, he watches me with nothing but sadness and his hands are empty, just slack at his sides as he takes a step forward and I’m frozen, It’s not making sense.
He keeps coming closer and my heart is beating out my chest. Run! He’s going to kill you! My head screams but he doesn’t look like he will kill me, he looks like he wants to be next to me and holding me through this, possibly the one feeding me the tomato soup like Haymitch suggested.
“Jude�� Please, I’d never-“ He seems to choke on his words as a tear slips down his cheek “Come back to me” Come back and trust me so I can kill you, I hear instead. The words make me flinch, the movement is so large the whole bed moves with me, screeching.
He backs away, the door hisses open again but he doesn’t move to get out “You’re just here to kill me!” I cried, wishing him out of the room.
Get out. Get out. Get out!!!
I must’ve screamed the last time because he’s gone and finally the screaming in my head stops and I fall to the bed, the thought of food or anything fades, only the want to be far from him stays.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd hunger games, i’m from District Twelve and Peeta Mellark does not want me dead.
I repeat in my head over and over again, as the truck rolls over cracks and bumps, my body jumps at each bit of debris we hit and I hit the metal seat hard each time but the pain is real. Which is hard to say about a lot lately.
Peeta Mellark wants doesn’t want you dead.
I shake my head, thst one was the hardest to remember and at times, it was no where reachable and all that would sustain me in that moment would be his blood on my hands.
Finally the truck pulled to a stop, I straightened my shoulders. I’d been taken by the Capital and my memories have been distorted, my first thought may not always be the right one.
With that final word of encouragement I let the anxiety slip from me as the back door opens and I’m led out. The sun blinds me for a moment, I’d only seen it for a moment when they made me leave base but only to be stuffed back in the van.
Now I could see the destruction. His fault. No, no, no. I took a deep breath, before turning to seeing the loving welcome party at the front of what seemed to be an abandoned building.
Katniss with her bow, Gale with his crossbow and the five members of their squad had their guns trained on me, including Peeta. My heart hammered but I kept upright as I took the empty gun from the guard before waltzing my way towards the group.
I am Jude Slone, I won the 73rd Hunger Games, I am from Distrisct 12 and None of these people want me dead.
“What is she doing here?” Katniss is the first to speak and though her eyes are trained on me, i know she doesn’t want me to answer.
“Coin wants her to be shown on screen, the victors fighting on the same side” A dark man, who screamed military spoke and he was the only one besides Finnick who hadn’t raised their gun at me. “I don’t like the gun”
“Cant have me fighting with my bare hands on screen” I mutter, before shaking the weapon “It’s empty”
The tension seemed to ease slightly in the group but while half of them had lowered their weapons, Peeta, Katniss and Gale hadn’t. I had to remember what I’d been like this past month, I wouldn’t trust me either.
“I don’t like this” Peeta. His words cut deep and I deflate at them before the military man waves everyone to come inside, not before a solider by the name of Jackson, she told me, quietly instructed me that i’d be restrained for their safety.
“I understand, but I’m not a child”
“No just someone who went through a lot of shit” Finnick says behind Jackson, and my eyes dart up. I didn’t know where my mind stood with Finnick, I didn’t feel like killing him but I hadn’t felt like killing Peeta a moment ago but we all knew it would come.
It was why I was being restrained in the first place. I nod at his words, unsure of how to respond before they lead me inside. The wall along the door was made of glass and I watched as the van that stopped me off, vanished in the distance.
I was stuck here and I didn’t know if I would ever leave this ruin of a city. I kept my distance from the group as they moved into the centre and I took a seat beside the window.
“We’ll have to set up an around the clock guard on her, we can take shifts” Military man said, turning to look at me. “I’ll take the first shift, Names Boggs.”
I preferred Military man but I nodded all the same, “I want a shift” Peeta’s voice is small compared to Boggs but it silences the room all the same.
“Not happening” Jackson speaks up this time, confusing me on who’s in command.
“I can do it!” Peeta argued back, standing from his seat “It’s not her… The Capital killed her and whoever they sent back to us, i’ll be happy to put a bullet in its head” I flinched, turning my eyes down to my hands. Clenching them, was I dead? The girl I was? I shake my head, I am Jude Slone and I did not die in the Capital. They broke me but I am not unfixable. I am broken not unfixable.
I am unfixable.
“I’m not sure seeing as a mutt helps” Jackson declares but Boggs cuts her off
“Give him a shift, Katniss too.” There was no room for argument as Jackson nodded and began to schedule the guard clock. I wanted to be more helpful, tell them that maybe they could go an hour and they could all rest, but I didn’t even trust myself to do that.
Instead I kept silent, letting the rest of them discuss our plan while I watched the day pass by through the glass. “How’re you feeling?” Finnick’s voice from beside me makes me jump. I turn to him and he looks almost glowing, I’d heard something about him and Annie.
I knew I would feel happy for him if I didn’t feel so disconnected. Finnicks memories that came to mind now only brought warmth, nothing haunting. Which was relieving, he was a breath of fresh air.
“Away, I feel like everything’s happening and I’m not really here” I try to explain and he seems to understand. “I don’t want to be a problem, I don’t know why they sent me here… I’m not ready.”
He frowns, “I think you’re where you need to be, normally whenver Annie gets confused she asks me, and I promise you, you’ll find nothing but the truth here” I glance over to the group who had begun to seperate and close their eyes.
It must be Finnicks shift. The thought made this whole encounter turn cold but still, I took in his words as my eyes trained on the baker boy. “Peeta was the reason this happened to me… Real?”
He shakes his head, “You made Haymitch swear if it came down to the two of you that he’d get Peeta to safety” Finnick explained but my mind screamed at me that he was lying. Why would I ask that? Peeta and I didn’t get along, no, we did and we’d almost- I didn’t know what we almost did or if he hated me or loved me and it made me want to rip my hair out as my thoughts banged against my head.
He was not the reason you went to the Capital, you chose this. You didn’t want him to go through this… That felt right, staring at him now, I would never wish upon him those nights in the Capital.
“I know it must be hard. Annie went through a lot but they know that the Capital never left you alone, you were their main priority.” Finnick places a hand on my shoulder, bringing my fully to the present for what felt like the first time. “None of us blame you at all for what happened.
I forgot how long it’s been since someone had been gentle with me. Skin to skin, human contact. My body released its pressure, relaxing in my seat. “Thank you, Finnick”
He smiled before sitting up straighter, and we together sat in silence watching the night sky slowly fall upon us as the rest that were awake finally knocked off
“Get some rest” Finnick muttered to me softly, tapping my leg as he got up. I could see his eyes dropping a while ago but he still stayed and it relieved me that he was finally putting himself first.
I nodded, I would not be sleeping tonight. Each time I closed my eyes another memory would wash over me, I’ve started to get better at knowing if it’s real or not without verification.
Like the one of Peeta and Is confession of our favourite colours, it was easier to picture him smiling at me now instead of anger and whenever it did dissolve to the image it was almost too perfect, his freckles gone and the scar he got from the 75th games vanished, as did the dark circles under my eyes and the few strands out of place were perfectly flat. Too perfect.
I watched Finnick rouse Peeta and point over to me. Of course, I could only get so lucky. I heard someone clear their throat before they took a seat across from me. I didn’t look up. I didn’t know where my mind would jump to.
And he seemed to take the message, he didn’t try to speak to me either. She asks me. I promise you’ll find nothing but truth here.
Finnick was right, I couldn’t close myself off and hope I’d be able to fix myself. If it was that easy, I’d be normal again. “Finnick told me that whenever i’m having trouble differentiating real from not real I should just ask…”
I glanced up at him, in the darkness it was hard to make out his uniform but his blonde hair and pale skin were easy to spot and it made my body tingle as I registered just how close he was and I didn’t feel like wringing my hands around his neck. Relief.
“Shoot away” I raised an eyebrow “Not literally” I smiled softly at that before cycling through my head and I settled back into his favourite colour. What if I asked and his favourite was blue or something? Sunset orange was just another lie they filled into my head. Ask.
“Your favourite colour. It’s sunset orange, real? Not real?” I clench my fists, please. please.
“Real… Yours used to be red but after the hunger games you couldn’t stand it” He explained, and he was right. I used to tie a red bow into my hair everyday until my reaping now the colour reminded me of the slaughter in the 73rd Hunger games.
“But you said you were beginning to like purple… I remember that day, I told you the sunset was the second most beautiful thing i’d ever seen… And the first was right in front of me” I stiffened, though the confession didn’t shock me, looking back I could’ve seen it if I looked hard enough in the moment “And it’s killing me, bevause you’re right in front of me again but you’re like the stars I can’t reach. I… Can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do. And it feels really, really shitty, knowing we might never get through this”
He stands abruptly from his seat “I can’t do this” And he storms out, but I’m clenching my fists too tight to stop, swearing at every god to let this memory stay and not be corrupted by fear. I can adore you from afar but that’s all I can do because if I came closer you’d kill me. Was the truth.
— — —
do we want a part two?!?
part two out now!
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bonny-kookoo · 9 months
Text
Jungkook
𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 [Snippet] 🔞
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Jungkook just loves to show you off- because while everyone on his planet might get to look at you, he gets to touch and love you in private.
Tags/Warnings: Alien!Jungkook, Bunny Hybrid!Reader, Extremely flirty Jungkook, suggestive, Major Fluff!, Romance, Established Relationship, JK has tentacles oops, smut
Length: It was supposed to be a drabble but I ended up writing ~2.5k words oops
There is no taglist for this fic
A/N: Boo here you go hybrid alien tentacle porn yay 🥳
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"There you are!" Jungkook sighs in relief, finding you in an isle for fresh produce, staring wide eyed at the round plastic containers filled with cubed fruits. "You want those?" He asks, pointing at one with pinkish and pale yellow cubes. You nod.
"Sweet?" You ask, unsure, and he shrugs, pulling the item down to inspect it, before he nods.
"Yeah, those are sweet- but I gotta…" He mumbles the last part, reading the label a bit further while you begin to wander off again- though this time you're pulled back by his hand reaching out during his task of finding out more about the fruits he's about to buy, to hold onto the hood of your light cotton jacket to keep you close this time and not lose you again in the grocery store. "..safe for human consumption. Hm, there's nothing written about hybrids though.." He mumbles to himself before he pulls out his phone to search online if you can eat those fruits native to his home planet, hand now leaving your hood- one of his extra appendages sneaking out from beneath his shirt to hold onto the belt loops of your shorts to keep you close.
Basilisks- that's what they're called here, which confused you for a good while, until you learned that they actually didn't ever have a true name, but that it was simply an earth-term his kind had adopted to use for them, because it sounded like a similar word which means 'Blood-snake' in his native language. You remember how terrified you were of his uniquely inky-purple colored tentacles everyone of his kind has- mostly though because you met them when he'd used them to defend you both, the images still very vivid in your mind. But these days, you've come to love them as just another piece of him- even though you remember Yoongi, a good friend of his and your doctor currently, explaining to you that they do have their own minds.
'It's actually quite surprising they chose you.' He'd told you. 'I've never seen them so interested in their host's mate.'
Mate. It's still odd to think of yourself as that, though it makes sense with how he cares for and about you.
Jungkook is, nowadays, a bit more careful now with your food for example. He'd hate for you to have another situation like a month prior when you had eaten Nacuri- a vegetable he himself actually likes a lot, but that is apparently not very good for hybrids such as yourself, having caused you some major stomach cramps that pained him to simply watch- and ever since then, he's checking everything twice just to make sure. "-but can be eaten as a snack in small quantities." He reads out loud. "Alright, so only the small box then!" He chirps, putting the big container back to exchange it for a smaller one.
The moment his hands are free again, his inky-purple appendage disappears underneath the back of his shirt again, hiding away as to not get in the way, while he holds your hand as he walks through the different isles at the store.
He notices you yawning a lot more now as you stand on the metal parts of the shopping cart while his chest is warm against your back, and he's learned that's not always just a sign for tiredness in humans and hybrids. "We'll be home soon. I didn't think the line for checkout would be this long.." He tells you, hand running over your hybrid ears, while you suppress another yawn, tears stinging in the corners of your eyes from it. Oxygen levels inside buildings like these are fine for him and his kind- but humans and hybrids like you need a lot more than him to thrive properly. It's why he's got a special air filtering system installed in his home to accommodate for that- to make your life with him as comfortable as he possibly can.
It's the least he can do to show gratefulness for what you've done for him in the past, after all. And also, what kind of partner would he be if he didn't provide the absolute best for you?
He doesn't like how your ears droop after a few moments more- so he searches in your shoulder bag for the familiar pale pink plastic inhaler, setting it up with a few clicks for the proper dosage. "Here. It's almost our turn." He reassures again, offering the inhaler to you which you take with a nod. It'll help you with a bit of extra oxygen until you're out in the open again, levels today high for his kind, but perfect for yours. "Do you wanna eat the fruits in the gardens near the Archives?" He wonders, and you seem to think.
"What about.. those?" You ask, pointing at all the groceries.
"We can eat the icecream there too. I've got a spare blanket we can sit on, in the car." He says, leaning in to rest his chin on your shoulder. "I wanna have some.. cozy time with my baby, what do you say?" He purrs, and you shiver a bit, bunny tail wiggling around.
"Hmhm." You nod. You're not sure what entirely he means by 'cozy time'- because with him, that could honestly mean anything.
Later, outside on the blanket he'd laid out in the park in a more secluded space, you're happily filling your stomach with the fruits he'd bought you. He's watching fondly, because moments like these remind him that the past truly is behind the both of you. You no longer seem scared of anything as long as he's around. You speak freely to him, you're not shy at all, and you've even become a little bit daring these days.
You're no longer the empty, confused and almost soulless hybrid he'd met years back at the facility he'd found himself in. You no longer need to be told exactly what to do or otherwise you'll end up having a panic attack. You've become your own person, independent. You've blossomed, vibrantly.
And he loves it.
He loves you.
Especially now, hours later back at home, groceries still in their bags in the kitchen while you whine pitifully against his lips, with his grin satisfied while he watches you cling onto him. Something you've learned fairly quickly is that his kind is one that treats intimacy a little differently than humans back on earth. There's nothing forbidden or to be shy about for his kind- every type of intimacy or romantic displays of affection are normal even in public- no one stares at a couple kissing or hugging. If anything, people will just instantly believe a relationship is bad if there's no PDA ever between mates.
And sex? That's something sacred, it feels like.
Enio people just like himself find pleasure by feeding off of other's pleasure. They thrive when their partners thrive, they're happy when their partner's happy, and they're sad or in pain whenever their mates are. They also have relationships between multiple people- rarely ever having just one partner. Jungkook however had told you numerous times already that he's completely fine with just having you.
'Why would I ever need anybody else-' he'd said into your neck, '-when you're making me lose my mind every single time we're together?'
He's long lost his shirt by now, his dark purple tentacles already eagerly touching you. They're clearly just as excited as he is every single time you're together like this- and it's honestly almost cute.
Almost- if it wasn't for one of them very eagerly sliding right through in between your legs, back and forth, making you cling onto his arms as he watches you with an intense gaze. His eyes have always been something unique- like two pitch black voids, but only ever if the light doesn't hit them just right, making you able to see the deep red-ish brown and slanted pupils, similar to a feline. But in times like these, in the barely lit bedroom of his, they're just two nightsky colored marbles, reflecting anything like a galaxy.
His tongue runs over his bottom lip, licking over his silver piercings on one side. His grin is that of a predator, watching his prey struggle. But not for it's life- no, you're struggling for entirely different reasons.
"They're horribly impatient." He chuckles when one of his purple appendages moves to instead play with your pearl, before it prods at your entrance, almost as if to see if Jungkook will allow it.
He doesn't.
And it's clear with the way they retreat from between your legs, instead roaming your hips instead, before two of the four spread your legs open for him. That's how it usually goes- a rule set by him. Only he gets to be inside you- gets to claim you like that.
Your underwear is still hanging from your ankle when he pushes himself inside, hands gripping the soft flesh of your waist. He tends to be impatient like this, can't help himself, as he always tends to say to excuse his eager nature. You're perfectly compatible to him, physically and emotionally as well.
You're his, and he just can't help but want to make sure everyone knows that.
The windows are open, and your sure someone way down can probably hear your faint moans, but you can't bring yourself to care about it. "My baby.." he purrs into your neck, where he kisses and sucks his marks, hands gripping your body wherever he can while his tentacles roam around to offer you their own ways of pleasure.
You don't kind the almost sticky substance they begin to leak onto your skin. You've gotten used to it by now.
You're dizzy with everything going on around you. You're unable to quite move much, but you don't have to- both Jungkook's arms and his extra appendages make sure to keep you in place while his hips snap into yours, skin wet as it stays connected to his with thin strands of both your arousal and the sweet smelling precum of his tentacles.
A year ago, you would've tried to hide in shame of it all- thinking you dont deserve nice feelings like this. You would've never thought you'd be loved like this, touched like this.
But he's made that possible. He makes it happen time and time again, and in every touch he places on your skin you can feel the tenderness he has for you in his very soul. He's not lying when he says he loves you. He's not deceiving you with acts of kindness and care. He means every single affectionate gaze he throws your way.
You love him because of that alone.
"My sweet little bunny baby.." he chuckles out of breath as he rolls his hips in just the way to make you arch your back in pleasure, as he leans over you to kiss your lips bright red.
He likes to bite. Likes to pull a little on your bottom lip and likes to get you into any position he sees fit. Sometimes he'll kiss up your back as he takes you from behind- other times like now, he wants to watch your face as you come undone under his steady pace.
It fuels his ego every single time seeing you all fucked out like this.
Every time it's proof that he's a good lover to you.
The moment you come undone and clench around him in waves of pleasure, he's quick to shoot his shot as well- hips stuttering as he pushes himself inside, one of his tentacles sneaking between you both, running over your pearl just to coax another orgasm out of you, thighs trembling a little. You're somewhat glad his basilisks are keeping your body in place, because at this point you're just absolutely boneless.
He's humming in pleasure as he sighs into your neck, body covering yours now almost protectively. 'Shielding' is what it's called- you've looked up some of his behavior just to figure out things you're too shy to ask him yourself. It's an instinctual thing- a remnant of a time long passed when his kind had to protect their mates whenever they were in a vulnerable state.
And then he moves again, tentacles slick with their own arousal as they wrap around your ankles, adjusting your legs as he moves lower, his hands on your hips cherishing your skin it feels like.
And then his mouth is on you, licking you up, probably tasting both you and him in a sinful mixture- but it's another behavior of his that always repeats. He does this every single time, claims it's nothing special and that for his kind, it's basic care after getting his own fill of you. He's constantly surprised at what things surprise you- but then again, you both grew up on entirely different planets, with entirely different culture surrounding you.
So it's normal that some of the things you do tend to catch him off guard as well.
Such as after you're both done showering and cleaning up- he's always surprised how clingy you get after being so closely together just minutes prior. Normally, with his kind, it's like he's recharged his social batteries- now able to go about his day easily, no need for too much physical affection. But for you it seems to be almost the opposite- you love to cuddle and be close to him afterwards, and maybe that's one of the key points that just make you so endearing to him.
He loves cuddling. He loves being lazy with you, especially like this. "I booked our flight to Doria for the end of this cycle." Jungkook hums into your skin, letting you lay almost on top of him, skin still bare. "It's gonna be a long flight, but I already talked to Yoongi about medication in case you feel sick." he reassures you, and you just nod, way too tired to really comprehend what he's talking about. "You're not even listening at all, are you?" He laughs because he knows as well- though he doesn't mind. He knows your body works a bit differently than his own, and knows by now he can be… quite exhausting.
So he let's you sleep, and decides that maybe a short nap isn't the worst idea either-
especially not if he gets to sleep with you in his arms.
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pixiesfz · 3 months
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more alexia fics please xx
your wish is my command
this was supposed to be a blurb but I had way too much fun writing reader and mapi's dialogue.
I actually hate this one, I don't like what I've done here.
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ninja turtles a.p
plot: You try and convince your girlfriend to dress up for halloween
warnings: drunk idiots, reader is a little bit whiny but she is drunk, slight angst
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You sat down next to Mapi on the beanbags near the back when the conversation first started, you were scrolling on tik tok with her head over your shoulder when the four turtles showed up.
"I remember watching them!" she beamed with a smile, her drink in her hand as you had your now empty glass next to your leg.
"si me too!" you said with the same enthusiasm "Who was your favorite?" Mapi asked "Mikey obviously, he loves pizza, I love pizza" you said with a drunk grin "Mine was the red one- RAPH!" she yelled when she remembered his name.
"Is that because you're very aggressive and don't listen to orders"
You gasped and closed your mouth when Mapi turned to you "I said that out loud didn't I?" you whispered
"yep," Ingred said before placing a kiss on her girlfriend's cheek "you're right though".
You laughed in Mapi's face before the short-haired girl placed her head down.
You went to get up and get your 6th or 7th drink- you couldn't remember before Mapi slapped your leg "Ow Mapi!" you scolded and she covered your mouth "Shoosh I don't want Alexia murdering me" she whispered.
You licked her hand.
"Ew y/n!"
"Then don't slap me" you whispered back aggressively and Mapi rolled her eyes "I had an idea"
"It couldn't wait?" you asked "no, I'm drunk my mind runs quickly" she rambled and you groaned "what is it?" you asked, impatient as you wanted another drink.
"We should dress up as the turtles for Halloween!" she yelled, you gasped "YES!"
heads turned to you both as you yelled but they just rolled their eyes and went back to their conversations as they realized it was only the two 'trouble makers' on the team.
"okay" Mapi rubbed her hands together "me, Raph, you, Mikey and who will be the purple one who's smart?"
You turned your head to the team and cocked your head "nobody is smart here" you stated "okay well who is the least dumb?" Mapi reworded.
You thought about it as your eyes squinted at the redhead who sat next to Jana "Keira" you decided and Mapi nodded "I was gonna say Lucy"
"Her brains are in her abs"
Mapi shrugged before running up to the red-haired English woman who screamed out of fright when she grabbed her and dragged her over to the both of you.
"I'll test her" you decided "Keira can you get me another drink?"
"No, you've had enough"
"She's smart!"
Mapi pulled Keira down onto the beanbag next to you as you both turned to her "Do you want to dress up with us?" Mapi asked and Keira rolled her eyes as you both gave her puppy eyes.
"Please" you both begged before the English woman finally snapped "fine!" you and Mapi both cheered "Now" Mapi said "Who will be the blue one, the leader"
Your head snapped to your girlfriend who sat on the table, already looking at you.
She got up as soon as she saw your stare and you ran after her
"Ale!"
"No" she deadpanned as she walked away "Are you going to drive home without me?" you yelled "If it means I'm not going to be apart of whatever that is then yes" she replied as you finally reached her and jumped on her back, now away from everyone.
"You don't even know what it is" you pouted "you and Mapi thought of it, I know it is bad," she said "Well if you must know we are planning a Halloween costume" you bragged and Alexia dropped you back to your feet.
"el cariño that is a big fat no from me" she sighed before placing a kiss on your forehead "You don't even know the costume Ale" you wined and the Captain brought your body to hers "I don't dress up" she stated
You groaned, breaking away from your girlfriend "you're no fun" Alexia scoffed "I am a lot of fun"
"Then dress up with us!"
"no"
"Alexia" you whined before the girl picked you up, making you squeel "you're drunk, we're going home".
The whole car ride was filled with questions and excuses for her to dress up with your friends but her answer was still the same.
"I will never have sex with you again" You smirked "You will fold that is not the first time you have made that promise" Alexia smirked as you slapped her hand off her thigh "well I'm serious this time" you declared.
Even with an extreme hangover the next morning, you kept your promise, avoiding the blonde girl at all costs. "y/n are you really going to do this?" Alexia asked as you pulled away from her as she kissed you goodnight.
"I don't know are you still sure you don't want to dress up with us?"
"I am sure"
"then yes I am really going to do this" you shrugged before getting under your sheets.
The date was October 30th when Alexia caught you in your ensuite bathroom holding your costume in your hand, another one on the bench as you facetimed Mapi.
"y/n I spend actual money on these are you sure Alexia won't dress up" the Spanish girl asked through the phone and you nodded "she really doesn't, I even said no sex until she does-"
"I don't want to hear that, you can keep that to yourself" the girl gagged but you didn't laugh "I know it's not a couple costume but I at least thought she would want to celebrate the holiday with me but she's not dressing up at all"
"Don't read into y/n/n" Mapi told you as Alexia watched you through the crack of the door, you looked beautiful in your pajamas but your face was looking down to the costumes, upset "I thought I could convince her" you mumbled "sorry Maria" you said, using the defenders real name.
Alexia turned away from the door.
'I at least thought she would want to spend the holiday with me'
Your words struck her when she realized what her stubbornness had done to you secretly.
You ended the call with Mapi before storing the costumes under the sink and got water and splashed your face with it, hopefully cooling down the red your face had flushed out of embarrassment that you couldn't even get your girlfriend into a costume.
Was she embarrassed to be with you like that?
When you went to bed that night Alexia kissed you on your forehead "Goodnight, I love you" she said as you nodded "you too" you mumbled before pretending to fall asleep.
Alexia watched as you closed your eyes, her mind wondering about in stress, she didn't want to make you feel unwanted she just didn't want to be made fun of in front of her friends.
She didn't know how you did it, she didn't know how you were so open and confident about your decisions and your actions when she hardly ever did anything that put her out in the open, only when asked or when being pushed into the spotlight.
Even then she looked out for you in support, you always helped her in public situations, telling her how good she was and how proud of her she was.
She realized she hadn't done the same for you.
She knew what she had to do.
You were getting prepared for the team Halloween team bonding night, opting not to wear a costume as you laid out your clothing on the bed and got into the shower, you hummed in relaxation as the hot water hit your back as Alexia was in the room next door, looking up the names to the Ninja turtles before giving up and texting Mapi, asking if she was supposed to be the blue or Orange one.
When you walked outside of the bathroom to get changed you were not prepared for the sight of your girlfriend tying the laces of her black boots as she was holding a blue headband in between her teeth.
"Ale?"
Alexia's head popped up "You were supposed to take five more minutes in the shower like you always do," she said, ignoring your smile that grew
"You're in the costume" you pointed out, walking up to Alexia "Yeah, and you are in nothing but a towel, get changed," she said as if nothing weird was happening.
"Alexia are you okay, do you have a fever?" you asked smugly as you felt her head with the palm of your hand which she grabbed softly "I am fine, I just want to spend this holiday with my girlfriend"
You smiled before turning your girlfriend's face to yours bringing her into a kiss and pulled back "Did you do this for sex?"
"no but it is a bonus" Alexia smirked, pulling you in for a second kiss "you didn't tell me we were dressing up as brothers" she said after you leaned out.
"Ale, don't make it weird".
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sinfulpanda16 · 4 months
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Someone Better?
Hitoshi Shinsou x fem reader
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"There's someone else I like."
Those words kept playing back in his head over and over again. Kirishima had asked you out earlier, you didn't tell him, but he found through Kaminari. Why the hell did you reject him? Kirishima? That man has everything the looks, the strength, the personality, you two would look so good and perfect together it pissed Shinsou off.
He was walking you home like usual but he couldn't stop thinking about what Kaminari had told him. He was looking down at the ground when he spoke up "Hey, so I found out that Kirishima asked you out." he says and then turned to look at you.
You're taken aback a bit by him, how did he know? Kaminari was there when Kiri shot his shot so he probably told Shinsou you figured. You relaxed a bit and giggled. "Oh yeah he did" you replied a bit shy after remembering that moment.
He fucking caught that. The little blush growing on your face, probably at the thought of Kirishima. Oh no. Did that mean...no. He mustered up the courage and asked "So, how'd it go? Did you say yes?"
You laughed softly. "Oh no. I rejected him."
"No? Wait why?" he asked. He was relieved of course but at the same time a bit shocked. A lot of people would love to be with someone like Kirishima.
You turned away and looked at the ground "There's someone else I like." you smile softly and continue "Someone I really like and I want to be with him."
Its quiet for a bit, you turned to look back at him. Shinsou was already looking into your eyes. He gave you a small smile, you returned his smile and he tells you "I'm happy for you Y/N".
Shinsou grunts as he finishes his last set on the bench press. With one last grunt he pushes the barbell up and he's done. He sits up all sweaty and panting. Damn his workout was so good, letting out his jealousy. He smiles to himself "Fuck Y/N. You know how to get me fired up."
He gets up and heads for a shower. He let's the water run in his hair.
"I'm happy for you Y/N."
He runs his finger through his damp hair. No the hell he's not. The thought of you being with someone else makes his chest ache. He wants you to be happy yes but...not with someone else. He wishes you could be happy with him.
That night he layed in bed looking up at the ceiling.
"There's someone else I like. Someone I really like and I want to be with him."
Him. If not Kirishima who? Who the he'll could that guy be? Is he better than Kirishima? He grabs grips of his hair in frustration. There's someone better. Shinsou has always been insecure about his looks, he knows he's not a lady's man, his quirk, with everyone having told him its makes for a good villain not a hero, his strength, he wasn't automatically placed in Class 1-A or 1-B and everything in general. You mean to say that's there's someone who can top all that better than Kirishima? Needless to say, Shinsou fell asleep after a few tears of jealousy and insecurity.
The next day after-school you and him were at the nature park. School has been a bit heavy on yall so you decided some time outside would be relaxing. Shinsou was following behind you, smiling like an idiot watching your cute self lead him to a 'pretty place'. You turn around "You like cute things right, Shinsou?" you ask him.
Yeah. You, Shinsou said in his mind. "Well, I don't mind them." He said chuckling at your question.
A bit more walking later and you both arrived at a flower field. "Tada! Here we are!" you announced excitedly. It was beautiful, the endless sea of flowers. Shinsou stared out into it "Wow. This is pretty Y/N." he said and turned to you smiling. You returned his smile and for a moment it was just you and him, in front of the giant flower field. His purple eyes looking back at your (e/c) eyes, they're so pretty. Everything about you is beautiful, your eyes, your smile, your aura, even your interests were beautiful. Like the flower field you brought him to.
Shinsou blushes and turns away abruptly his eyes landing on a tree. Shinsou smiles, "Hey let's climb that tree. We'd get a better view of the flowers from up there." he says hoping you'd want to.
You bright up "Yes lets! But make sure to catch me in case I fall." you order playfully.
Shinsou chuckles "I'll be right your side don't worry." he reassures you. Smiling softly as you head towards the tree.
You go to climb the tree being careful to not slip. Shinsou was below also making sure you were careful. When you were seated on a branch he starts climbing the tree and sits right next you. The both of you smile looking out into the landscape. "This is nice. Right Shinsou?" you say not looking away from the sunset setting behind the flowers.
Shinsou responds softly "Yeah. I could do this with you over and over again." You blush at his words, you could do this over and over with him too. He was looking at you and he saw you blushing. He did that?
Shinsou takes a deep breath making you turn to him. "Y/N" he says firmly and goes to hold both your hands. You're shocked by his actions but don't pull away. He begins to speak again "You're the only person that has made me feel things no one else has ever made me feel. You make me feel like I'm this strong, well-respected and remarkable man...but... you also make me feel like I'm this weak, undeserving, invalid man. You drive me nuts." What is he saying? You make him feel sad? "This must be what falling in love feels like. Because regardless of the insecurities you bring me back to, I still want to be with you, and I want to only be with you. I want to go far and beyond to work on myself so I can be the best man for you. Y/N..." he brings your right hand closer to his face and places your knuckles on his lips "I love you." he says gently and leaves his lips on your knuckles closing his eyes.
You're shocked "Shinsou." you say softly. He opens his eyes looking right at your beautiful ones. He pulls your hand away "I know there's someone else. Someone else better than me for you, and I have no right to get in between you two but...If you give a chance, I promise to go to the depths of the earth for you. I promise you won't regret it." he says emotionally.
You hold his cheek smiling softly at him and go in for a kiss. Shinsou is taken aback but doesn't pull away. He kisses you back your lips taste so sweet and unconsciously he wraps his arms around your waist.
After a moment you pull away and smile at him. "Shinsou, you're the one I want to be with. I love you too." you say making him forget the insecurities he had earlier, making the happiest man on earth.
"Thank you, Y/N" he replies going in for another to which you happily return.
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zipsunz · 1 year
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i've updated the refs for the Little Mari AU! nothing has changed aside from new art and a rewritten summary down below.  
(art by me, text by @sunkitty143!)
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the general premise of this AU is an ageswap between mari/hero and sunny/kel. on the day of mari and sunny's recital, aubrey witnesses a fight between the siblings and sunny's accidental death. sunny's cause of death and aubrey's choice of cover-up are the same as canon. 
the ships in this AU are sunkel, heromari, and photobomb. sunny and kel started dating when they were ~13, though they never revealed their relationship to the kids. hero and mari have unresolved feelings that were only starting to be explored before sunny's death. 
shortly after sunny's death, mari finds herself in sunny's iteration of headspace. like canon, sunny has been exploring headspace since he was very young. everyone's awareness of it varies, but the only ones who know the full extent of its existence is mari and kel. headspace in this AU is based on how i imagine it was in canon before mari's death (ie everyone having purple hair in honor of her, mari and basil not wearing pajamas etc) but with creative liberties due to sunny having longer to expand it and mari's eventual influence. it's important to note mari is not crafting headspace to match what she knows of sunny's version. for reasons that have yet to be revealed, headspace did not have a "true reset" when a new dreamer entered it, which means it is still the very same one sunny would explore.
in headspace, mari takes over her dream world counterpart's role as the save point and, in her eyes, the perfect little sister. eventually, she completely forgets why she found herself in headspace in the first place and what she had been looking for. since her exploration of headspace is limited to her picnic blanket, mari asks sunny's party to help her with her problem. but after a particularly nasty battle, a horrified mari convinces sunny to watch over the picnics instead so he can never get hurt again. 
now leader, mari explores headspace with aubrey, hero, and kel. but each time the party succeeds in their mission, aubrey remembers the truth. she is not banished to black space, but outright erased to the best of mari's ability with her finite control over headspace. as if she had never existed, what is left of aubrey is now the entity referred to as stranger and basil takes the open spot in the party. all the while, an odd girl known as omori wanders the dream world. even odder, she is looking for the very same thing that mari is.
thank you for reading all of this… again! like i've been doing, anything for this AU will be posted out of chronological order to keep my motivation and enthusiasm up hehe. please look forward to more content in the near future!!
(you can find the original refs/info here!)
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oneforthemunny · 6 months
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christmas (baby, please come home) |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|
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prompt: it's not the most wonderful time of the year for everyone, including you and eddie.
apart of my munny's merriest that you can read here!
contains: angst. eddie is mean. past parental trauma. grief. holiday grief and sadness. angst really.
Heavy boots, covered with slush and snow from the frozen ground below, pounded up the creaking wooden porch. Eddie huffed, his breath clouding around him, a gloved hand reaching for the screen door. The toe of his work boots knocked against the doorway, kicking off the remainder of the snow from the icy, winter wonderland that arrived overnight, just in time for Christmas Eve. With it, came an icy chill that had Eddie working overtime to make sure the horses were warm. 
It was an odd feeling, walking into the mud room, plopping on the bench to pull off his boots. Eddie waited, inhaling in the cold, crisp air, waiting for the warmth to flood back to his system. That cozy heat to thaw out the chill that shocked his system, left his cheeks red and frost bitten from the cold. The euphoric feeling of relief that coated him every time he walked in from the snow. It never came. 
In fact, it felt colder in the house. 
In the house that was decorated, halls decked and every square inch covered with Christmas. The usual homey contentment that came from looking at the decorations was gone, replaced with a miserable, heavy feeling settled deep in the pit of his stomach, feeling him with a sickening guilt. 
Visions of your fight, hateful words piled on with yells and slamming doors, right there in the kitchen. A kitchen that should be filled with Burl Ives’ Christmas album on a loop was missing its merry music; it was missing you. 
“We always spend Christmas with my family.” 
“Yeah, exactly. It’s always about you, what you wanna fuckin’ do!” 
Eddie could see your face as if it was in front of him again. The way your expression fell, crumbling before him, the betrayal in your eyes rimmed with flecks of hurt. It made his stomach turn all over again. 
“You don’t- I thought you liked spending time with my family.” Your voice was small, far too small for your usual tone. “They always love spending time with you, Ed.” 
“Oh, yeah, to you they do.” He scoffed, eyes rolling so hard he gave himself a headache. He could feel it now. “You always leave me with your asshole uncle, who always wants to tell me the same goddamn story about how he used to ride horses growin’ up, like I give a shit-” 
“-Eddie! He’s trying to be nice and talk to you, so you’re not-” 
“-So I’m not miserable? Well, guess what, honey. I’m fuckin’ miserable!” His voice was so loud it shook the wooden cabinets of the kitchen, your tin snowmen rattling on top of the shelves. “I am fuckin’ miserable every Christmas! I would rather be here alone, shovelin’ shit all goddamn night and day than be there!” 
The hitch in your breath rang loud and clear in Eddie’s ear, his own face crumpling this time, a shaky hand rubbing across his eyes to try and keep his composure. But how could he? How could he stop the ache in his chest when he remembered the way you looked at him? The way your eyes filled with tears, lip quivering in fear. You hadn’t cried, not in there, atleast. Instead, you waited until you got to the bedroom, pulling out your own little overnight bag and filling it silently. 
He’d been so furious, so unfathomably filled with weeks of pent up rage, Eddie had to step out. Fury filled steps, a swinging fist to a post that left his knuckles bloody, splintering into the pale skin that was already blooming with bruises. Eddie really regretted it now, sure he’d broken a knuckle at the way it had swelled, doubled in size and kissed with dark purple, welt-like bruises. Oh, what he would do, what he would give, to have you fuss over it, patch it up and huff at him for doing something so immature. 
You didn’t. 
Instead, you stayed silent, save for the heart wrenching, hiccupy sniffle you gave when loading your bag into the trunk. Eddie’s body was still buzzing, electric with every ounce of bitter grief he’d tried to ignore. 
“Where you goin’?” Eddie gritted, tone sharp, it left you shuddering at the unfamiliar sharpness directed at you. 
“You want to shovel shit, since it’s so much better than being with my family.” Your breath stuttered in your chest when you took that breath. One that had Eddie’s heart lurching, nervous system flooding with a damning shock that left his head reeling in fear. 
“Better than being with me.” The crack in your voice matched the crack in Eddie’s own heart, splitting it right down the middle. 
“I don’t want to make you any more miserable than you already are.” You spat, and suddenly, Eddie longed for the sadness in your tone because the bitterness that replaced it was worse. 
Your own boots crunched on the ground, bare with snow and ice, but frozen from the cold. “Have a Merry Christmas by yourself, Eddie.” A hard yank of your car handle, and you were gone. 
Eddie watched you go in a horrified stare, your car disappearing down out of his sight in a red flash, feeling like he was watching a movie- a fucked up movie through his own eyes, but not in his own body. 
Then he was alone. 
Eddie was alone, standing on his family’s land, holding his throbbing hand alone. He was alone then. He was alone later that night, when he crawled into bed, teary eyes and shaking hands grabbing at your pillow, smothering himself with it because it smelled like you- terrified it might be the last time he could smell you. And he was alone now. Sitting in a too still kitchen, in a too quiet house, on Christmas Eve, alone. 
The burning threat of tears choked him, bubbling out of his chest and crept up his throat. Through blurred vision, Eddie could see the time. A little past four. He wondered what you were doing, what your family was doing. If your dad had started a card game yet. The same Rummy game he always made sure to deal Eddie in to- always made sure to include him. 
If your uncle was on his fourth or fifth glass of eggnog, spiking it with an extra pour of Woodford. He’d always offer Eddie some, slurring and spilling a little onto the festive tablecloth. Drunkenly tell him about his childhood, how he grew up riding horses, the same droning story that Eddie would always nod politely at. He was sloshed through the holidays, but never mean- always a jolly drunk, bellowing laughs through shining eyes. No smashing of plates or bruising grips like Eddie’s childhood Christmases always had. 
Or if your mom had got a chance to breathe, pull herself out of the kitchen with your aunts. She’d always hug him so warmly when she’d greet the two of you at the door, fussing over taking your bags and jackets, so happy the two of you were there. She’d even embroidered a stocking for Eddie last year, surprised him with it proudly. He’d nearly cried. 
It was a weird feeling. This feeling that he was becoming a part of your family. That they wanted him to be a part of it. 
He only had Wayne left, the rest of his family was long gone. It filled him with a grimy, gross feeling how much he enjoyed his time with your family. The sickening thought that he was betraying his own, replacing them and filling in their spots with shiny, new replicas. 
Wayne would laugh at him, tell him he should enjoy it, he better enjoy it. “You know Darlene and me go to Florida ev’ry Christmas, boy. You better stick it with ‘er. She’s a good’en.” 
Wayne would be furious at him if he knew. Probably take him ‘round back for the way he spoke to you, about your family. Eddie wouldn’t blame him, he was furious at himself for it. 
Eddie’s eyes found their way to the mantle, your stocking and his lined side by side. His was full, stuffed with small gifts and goodies you’d cheerily slip in, tongue clicking at him when he’d try to peek. Yours was deflated, sans for a small pair of cabin socks Eddie had got in early November. 
The bile in his throat brought him back to his very cruel reality in front of him. He’d been mean to you- he acted like his dad. 
Eddie’s stomach lurched, moving to the sink, a shaking hand pulling his hair back, retching into the sink at the revelation. Parallels of his mom and dad, his childhood, how his mom would decorate the house from top to bottom, make it nice and festive for Eddie. His dad would come in, tear it down, mock her for it in a drunken slur. She’d always buy him a gift, make sure Eddie’s stocking was filled with what she could: penny candies, knitted gloves, dented wacky packs from the discount store. Eddie would make her an ornament, his Mamaw Munson would get her a little gift, but never his dad. Her stocking was always empty. 
A choked sob caught in Eddie’s throat, vomit spewing into the shiny surface under him. Clammy forehead pressed to the cool countertop, he took a deep, shaky sob to try and keep the cry in. The mangled sob that shook his core, rattled his lungs, burned all the way from his stomach to his nose. 
Calloused hands wiped at his wet cheeks, chapped from the cold, giving a fierce sniffle. Eddie felt eight again, noticing for the first time the way his mother’s eyes dimmed, how she tried to hide it when she opened the empty stocking. She had been hopeful that there had been something in there, that this year his dad would remember her, be better. He never was. 
Eddie couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t be. He’d already reflected him in every way, too much for his own comfort lately- screaming at you, that rage that tore through him, bloody knuckles and aching throat that was leaving you in tears. 
As his shaking fingers turned the dial, cradling the phone to his ear, he hoped you would answer- that he could just get to you, talk to you. Your mother’s cheery voice rang over the phone instead, a happy roar of chatter mixed with music playing behind her voice. 
“Oh, Ed?” Your mother’s voice sounded concerned, he could practically see her frown, one you inherited. “Are you feeling better, hon? We miss you. I’m sending your stocking and gifts home- well, not the stocking, I’ll keep that but what’s inside.” 
You’d told them he was sick, covered for him- just like his mom used to do for his dad. The kindness in her tone nearly sent Eddie over the edge, pulling the receiver away to take a breath, to keep the sob from coming out. 
“Ed?” Your mom tried again. “Are you there?” 
“Y-Yeah, I’m sorry. I just… Is s-she around?” Eddie’s voice was tight with emotion, and he knew if he said your name, it would break whatever facade he’s mustered at the moment.
“Uh-huh, one second.” A staticy rustle filled the receiver, your name muffled and falling from your mom’s lips. 
Eddie didn’t realize he was holding his breath, until he released it, a desperate sigh of relief when you took the phone. “Hello?” 
“H-Hi, baby.” Eddie tried, hoping his voice was soft enough, gentler now- than the last time he talked to you. 
“Hi.” You bit, through gritted teeth, dragging the chord of the phone into the hall with you. “What do you want? I’m with my family.” 
His water line brimmed again, overflowing with angry tears. “Yeah, I know, honey. I’m sorry, I just,” Eddie took a deep breath, stuttering in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 
Your own lip wobbled, fresh with tears. You’d pulled into your parents drive the night before, eyes red rimmed from your cry, telling them something about the hay and your allergies. They’d believed you, pulled you in with a warm hug. It was nice, comforting at your home, surrounded by your family until you were asleep. A bed had never felt so cold.
 “I don’t-” You grit, trying to keep your own emotions in. “This is why you called me?” 
Eddie flinched at the venom in your own tone. “I am sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby, you don’t even kno-ow.” Eddie’s chest stuttered. “I didn’t mean any of that, I swear. I was- I’m just… I’m not doing great this year, baby.” 
Your heart jumped at the shake in his tone, the rawness of his words. “You really hurt my feelings, Ed.” You admitted, your voice smaller. “I don’t- I don’t know why you don’t like my family. They love you-” 
“-I don’t.” Eddie shook his head, fist balled around the phone. “I didn’t mean any of that. I love your family, I-I love you.” 
“So, you said all of that, why?” You scoffed lowly. 
Eddie’s knee bounced. He hadn’t expected you just to forgive him, but it was still hard- hard when you weren’t here, when you were away and hurt, and he was alone and miserable. 
Miserable, the single word in the world he wished to never say or hear again. 
“I…” Eddie’s hand threaded through his matted locks. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Not- no, no, no, not you or- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Eddie rambled stupidly. 
“I feel weird about being with your family on Christmas because…I like it.” Eddie’s vision was blurred, watery with tears. “It’s just different from what I grew up with, and… and I don’t know, sometimes it’s just, it’s overwhelming, baby.” 
You stayed silent on the other end, the only sound signaling you were still on the line was the faint yells and mummers of your family, only making Eddie’s heart ache even more. “They’re all so nice, it-it makes me… I didn’t have that. My family didn’t have that, and-and every time I’m there it just makes me wish they did.” 
The both of you fell into a silence, one that was becoming far too common. Eddie’s heart hammered behind his ribcage. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. This- nothing is your fault, you know that? This is on me. I shouldn’t have ever talked to you like that, said that shit. I’d beat the dog walking shit out of anyone who said that shit about you, and then I say it? That’s just-” Eddie let out a humorless, watery laugh, fist pressed to his forehead in an attempt to extinguish that fury burning through his chest again. 
A cleansing breath later, Eddie’s head was in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, wobbly when he told you. “I’m so, so sorry.” 
“It’s… We can talk later, Eddie.” Your voice finally rang through, shaky and unsteady, clutching the phone like it was your life long. “Thank you for calling me. For telling me that.” 
The silence settled again, both of you unsure, scared to make the next move. 
“I, uh, I wish you were here.” You broke the silence this time. “My family keeps asking about you. They miss you, a lot.” 
“I miss you.” Eddie sniveled, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. “I mean, I miss them too, but I just… I miss you a lot.” 
A pause, the slight clear of your throat. “I have to go.” You whispered, voice tight and Eddie knew you were close to tears. “I have to help my mom set the table, but… I’ll call you tonight.” 
“I love you.” Eddie blurted, sacred he might forget to say it with how his head was swimming. “I love you so fuckin’ much.” 
“I know.” Your voice was soft. It made Eddie’s stomach lurch all over again. 
The line droned in a steady beep after your receiver clicked. Eddie held the phone there, eyes shining dully with unshed tears in the lights of the strung decorations. A defeated slump in his shoulders. He didn’t feel any better, worse if anything. 
Eddie was surrounded by a deafening silence, the house too quiet. Too quiet to be Christmas. Too quiet without you. 
The soft glow from the barn pulled Eddie’s attention, the doors pulled to keep the heat in for the horses. He twisted the phone in his palms, turning it over in his hands gently before jabbing his fingers back into the dial. 
The line rang once, twice, nearly a third before it was answered. 
“Gare, hey, I’ve got a big ask…” 
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“Honey,” Your mom’s eyes squinted, yellow rubber gloves dunked into the soapy warm water in front of her. “I thought you said Ed wasn’t coming.” 
You nearly dropped the plate you were drying, breath caught in your throat. “What?” You hissed, leaning to look out the small window over the sink. Sure enough, there in the dark, snow covered driveway was Eddie’s truck. 
“I-I didn’t think he was.” You shook your head, setting the plate down gently. “He said he wasn’t feeling well. I’m just- I’ll be right back.” Slipping on your boots, not bothering to lace them, you stepped outside into the frigid cold of the night. 
Eddie didn’t see you, back turned, grabbing armfulls of bags out of the back seat. “What are you doing here?” 
He jumped, nearly dropping your aunt’s present, eyes wide when he turned. “Shit, I-I…” Eddie’s tongue tied, jumbled and thick in his mouth. He didn’t expect to see you, standing there, in your little Christmas sweater that had his heart swelling. He wanted to kiss you, coo at you for being so cute, get you all blushy and giggle at his compliments. 
Your lifted brow, arms crossed over your chest protectively stopped him. “I wanted to give your family their gifts. I-I was just going to leave them on the porch and tell you when I called tonight.” 
Your foot twisted into the snow, eyes cast downward. “You didn’t have to do that.” 
“Yeah, yeah, I did.” Eddie nodded firmly. “They’re not- It’s not great. The mall was closing early so I had to kinda rush, but, uh, I wanted to get them something.” He looked at you, eyes shining with emotion. “Wanted to get you something too.” 
Your stocking was hooked onto his left pointer finger, a crooked bend of the knitted fabric, hanging heavy and filled with tiny trinkets and things that ruffled. You looked at it carefully, face quipping just barely, but Eddie caught it. “I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.” Eddie muttered lowly, breath showing under the glow of the lights. 
“Thank you.” You nodded, swallowing thickly around your words. “I can help you take them in.” 
“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to… I know you don’t want to be with me right now, baby, and I get it. I’ll just drop them off-” 
“-Come inside.” You sighed, arms still tight around his chest. “My mom already saw you. It’s just easier for you to come in.” 
Eddie tried to hide the hurt he felt with a simple nod. “I don’t want to ruin your Christmas.” He muttered softly. “More than I already have.” 
“Eddie,” You sounded tired, words heavy with emotion, exhaustion maybe. “Come inside.” Your eyes lifted to his, so sweet, nearly pleading he was sure he might sob. “There’s still leftovers. I’ll heat them up for you.” 
So Eddie followed you inside, gifts under his arms, letting your family greet him warmly, chocking his red eyes and matching nose up to the hay fever he’d been having. Your mom fixed him a plate, poured you both a glass of mulled wine. 
In the tiny bed of your childhood room, the two of you talked in hushed voices, silent apologies traded over soft touches. 
“I didn’t mean it.” Eddie whispered, nose pushing into your neck. “I’m sorry.” 
“I know.” You nodded, and you did. Even if it still hurt, still wounded from the words, you knew that was true. 
Eddie’s cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands grabbing at you, pulling you closer and closer like at any moment you might disappear from his clutches. “My mom,” His voice cracked, eyes pinching shut. “She used to love Christmas.” 
“Really?” You hum, tone as even as it could be with the shock. Eddie never spoke about his mother. 
“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “She, uh, she used to decorate every Thanksgiving. Pull out the tree after dinner, put it up. My dad,” Eddie swallowed around the bitter title. “He was always passed out by then, so she could do it pretty quickly. Get it up and ready before he’d wake up and bitch. It wasn’t a lot, a tree and some other stuff, but I’d always help her. She-She always let me put the angel on top.” 
You weren’t sure what to say, what you were supposed to say. Eddie’s mom was a sensitive spot. One he didn’t talk about much, at all, really. 
“She would really like your family.” Eddie’s voice was small, a rarity. Always the loud, rough and tough cowboy, commanding wild bucks all day. Small wasn’t in his vocabulary. 
“They would have really liked her.” You said slowly, vibrations from your voice tickling Eddie’s ear. 
Eddie knew it was true. He felt stupid, really, waves of horrible guilt crashing over him again as he clung tighter to you. Your family wasn’t the enemy, wasn’t one to try and replace his own family, just an extension. 
He meant what he said, that his Mama would like your family. He already knew she’d love you, simply because he did. He hoped it was true, that your family would’ve loved her. He knew deep down they would have, that they would welcome her with the same warmth that they gave him. 
That they’d always make sure her stocking was full on Christmas morning, because they always made sure his was. 
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loganlermanstanaccount · 10 months
Text
Crush
(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist
pairing: Boss!Miguel x lab tech!reader
summary: You've got a crush on your boss. But it's harmless - doesn't mean anything. Until it does.
warnings: no warnings. just fluff :D
a/n: just a little something I wrote to take a break from the college au fic I'm writing. sweet and fluffy and happy bc I've put this poor guy through so much 😭
not proofread at all, my bad y'all
wc: 1.6k
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thinking about being Miguel's respite. His soft spot, a place to lay his head away from all the bullshit. you're not apart of the spider society, not strictly, just a technician that puts their head down and gets on with it. and sure, you've got a little crush on your boss, but who wouldn't? Miguel is smart, mostly calm, and surprisingly funny. whilst everyone cracks a smile at all the mile-a-minute jokes of the other spiderpeople; you find yourself laughing at all of your boss' little moments. dry, deadpan, humor - and he looks so, so good when he says it. 
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"You swoop in with the-" Peter B makes a swoosh sound, hand swiping across the air like a kid playing with toy planes. "And then I'll do a-" 
Thud. He brings his hand down to the table solidly, with some force. It makes the table shudder and your head pops up slightly from under a workstation, hiding a smile. With their backs turned, they don't notice you're there.
You've got a pair of pliers in one hand, and a mess of wires with the other. You don't see the both of them that often, preferring to squirrel yourself away in the labs, but you've been stuck here with system updates. Whilst you've drawn the short end of the straw, yet again, it doesn't feel like it; basking in the warmth of the two even from the opposite end of the room. 
Miguel gives him a look, eyebrow raised. Peter waits, expectantly. A beat passes. 
" Oh. Are you… is that the whole plan?" Poking ever so slightly out of the tangle of wires, you catch his facial expression and it makes you giggle. Fuck. You clamp your hand over your mouth and retreat back into the depths. 
Busying yourself with the work, you pretend not to hear them pad towards you. It doesn't last long, and you're met with Peter B's face: 5 o'clock shadow and a blinding smile. 
"Oh shit! You're the…. uhuhh… that technician that I…" He clicks his fingers towards you, calling out to Miguel. Embarrassed, you stand up, expecting a scolding. 
It doesn't come. Miguel says your name, and it surprises you. 
"They're not usually on this floor, though. Lab A118, right?" He turns to you, and you nod slowly. How… how does he know that? You can count the amount of times you've spoken to Miguel one-on-one on a single hand, and yet he can remember which lab you work in? There were dozens of labs, triple the amount of technicians, and even if he did-
" Great . You can tell Miguel it's a brilliant plan," Peter beams. 
"Uhhh…." Not knowing what to say, you fiddle with the pliers in hand. 
"You don't... You don't have to answer that."
"...she does if she thinks it's good, Miguel." He deadpans, and turns to you. "He'll fire you if you don't answer."
"¿ Qué carajo, Peter ? " He practically hisses. Hurriedly, he reassures you with a hand on your arm. His tone is warm, softer. " Seriously, you don't have to answer that."
Peter huffs, leading you to take a seat on the counter. And you do, as he pleads his case. 
The older man is animated, and the scene makes you laugh: Peter B in a robe and fuzzy slippers, telling a humble technician the intimate details of their mission. Miguel takes a seat next to you, thigh creeping closer to yours. You pretend not to notice, and focus on the man in front of you. 
"Our target is this freaky little guy-" 
"The Green Goblin." Miguel corrects
"Whatever. This freaky little guy from a medieval dimension. All hear ye, hear ye , and shit…. a freak with a bell on his hat and purple cape. Sounds simple enough, right?" 
"...right." Miguel answers, exasperated already. 
Peter makes the sound of a buzzer. " Wrong! His dimension is paper-based, meaning he's a slippery little shit otherwise. Doesn't adhere to our kind of physics," The man besides you prepares to interject, but is shut down by the wave of a hand. 
"More or less, Miguel, I don't care for the science - this guy is literally two-dimensional. So you ," Woosh. He makes the gesture from earlier on. "And I'll," Smack. He brings his hands together with distinct flair.
Your boss still has his brows drawn up in confusion, but something clicks for you. 
"Miguel….takes him from his blind spot," You copy the gesture, as they both watch. Miguel can see the cogs turning in your head, the little twitch of your lips and press of eyebrows. "...and you pin him down from above."
“Yes! Yes, that's exactly what I said!" He pumps his fist upwards, pulling you off the counter and into a bear hug. You're laughing, and you hear him from over your shoulder. "We stick him with a doohickey, and then he's jingling all the way back home. I'm a goddamn genius, aren't I?" 
Miguel scoffs, amused. It's a somewhat good plan, but he's even more surprised at you: half-strangled in the other man's arms, and smiling wide. 
When Peter finally releases you, with a sly middle finger to Miguel for good measure, he rushes off. He's…babbling on about how Jess is gonna love this , or something like that. 
You're left with Miguel, still on the counter, head cocked. He's looking towards the door, you think, until you meet his eyes and jump. They are a deep scarlet, framed by wispy lashes. Your boss is pretty; so, so pretty . Perhaps not the most appropriate thought, but it's all you can think about as he talks. 
"You speak Parker?" He says, and you laugh. It makes heat prickle in his chest. 
" No way, sir. I… I think that's a first for me." You put your hands up, shaking your head; the remnants of a giggle bubbling up. 
"Maybe you should be on strategy? I could… we could do with that kind of talent on the team." His face is steady, and unreadable. You swear you can see a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, but it's hard to tell. He's rubbing at his neck, carding through the hair at his nape. 
He seems… shy, for some reason. 
"I'm flattered, sir, really. But I'm happy with what I do in research."
He hums, a strange expression on his face. He's on his feet now, getting a little closer to you. The pliers are in your hand, and he picks it up in his wide palms. Your hands are soft, he thinks. 
The action makes you hold your breath, and all of a sudden you're looking at his lips. 
" This," He's perceptive, and ignores the way your gaze makes him feel; the heat of your body so close to his. "Is a bit too big for what you're trying to do. It's a bit of a struggle, right?" 
You nod, not trusting your voice to stay steady. 
He flashes a little smile and leads you back to the workstation. "The number 4, please."
You hand him the smaller attachment, shaking yourself out of a daze. Your fingers brush, but you force yourself to concentrate on what he does under the hood , so to speak. 
"A little pressure, right…" You put your hand on the spot, and he moves it with his own, ever so slightly. "... here. Pull, please."
You give a solid tug, and he pushes the tool into a junction at the wires. It comes apart much easier than before. 
"You felt it?" He says it lowly; and it makes you blink twice. " That's when you pull. When you feel that tension."
He nods, and you stutter a timid thank you. "T-Thanks, sir. You didn't have to, though."
"I wanted to. I basically built all of this, I know it like the back of my hand. So it's no trouble." From anybody else, it would sound like a brag, but from Miguel it's nothing but the truth. You're in awe of him. sometimes: everything he's built, everything he's achieved. 
"So it's your fault none of these wires are colour-coded properly?" You say with a  burst of confidence. "Why are the wires for electrics brown? And the hydro-pumps are… purple? Not blue, or–" 
It peters off when you see his expression, gaunt and serious. 
" Shit. Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to cross a line, or anything."
"Sure, I built it," He erupts into a smile, and it makes him laugh. God, you've made Miguel laugh . "But I never said I was good at it." 
It puts you at ease, and you're brave enough to give him a little smile in return. And he likes it: your eyes light up, and worry lines relax. 
"And you don't need to call me sir. It's Miguel." As if introducing himself for the first time, he stretches out a hand. You take it, and say your name. 
"I know." He says it gently, and your heart skips a beat. "You need some help with the rest?" 
Realistically, it's a one-person job; something you can do even quicker now he's shown you the right technique. But he's already so close, and you're hung up on the way he speaks to you: steady, patient, with the prettiest, plump lips you've had the pleasure of looking at. It's not helping you get over your inappropriate crush; and will absolutely feed into your delusion; but he offered , ever so sweet. 
"Yeah, Miguel." You take the tool from him and crane your head to the worktop's belly. "I think I do."
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Miguel taglist (1): @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns
@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical
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todomochi-uwu · 5 months
Text
Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M
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Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi
Genre: Angst, Smut
Warnings: This content is for a mature audience
Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.
Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕
Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.
“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.
“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.
Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.
“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.
Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”
The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.
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Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.
“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.
“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”
“Mingi…” He was interrupted.
“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.
That was it. He was done.
Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.
Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.
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Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.
It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.
A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.
That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.
“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”
“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.
“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.
“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”
Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.
“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.
He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.
He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.
The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.
He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?
“Good morning, Channie.”
“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”
“Hey, Chan. How was work?”
Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.
Yunho…
Mingi…
Never his name.
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Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.
“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.
“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”
“Oh, I live here now.”
“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”
“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.
“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”
“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.
“Have you talked to them?”
You shook your head.
Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”
“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.
“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”
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Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.
“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”
“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.
“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”
Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”
He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.
“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”
The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”
“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”
He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”
“They broke up.”
“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?
“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”
“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.
“I know what I'm doing.”
“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.
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“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”
“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”
“I know where she is.”
“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”
“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”
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Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.
“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.
“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”
“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”
Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”
Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”
“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”
Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?
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