#this is supposed to be one post but i have too many fucking images :sobs:
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A WOUNDED DEER LEAPS HIGHEST
deer / headlight mirror, @/suitman // 13.01 lost and found, supernatural // a yiddish deer in the headlights, fabrice florin // deer in the headlights: low light awareness, teammisfits // deer survives arrow to the face, joshua rhett miller // 13.02 the rising son, supernatural // i found a baby deer alone in a field/garden/backyard – do they need help?, bcspca // 14.08 byzantium, supernatural // the deer, laurie sheck // why are new york hunters finding so many dead dear near water sources?, wgna-fm // a wounded deer leaps highest, emily dickinson
part two
#this is supposed to be one post but i have too many fucking images :sobs:#jack kline#supernatural#spn#spn edit#spn web weaving#spn parallels#deer motif#tw dead animal#tw animal injury#me and my silly dead animals in animal motif posts#my eorks
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Behind The Glass
This was how I imagined Tank reacting to the things Quinn was saying. Please have in mind I wrote this before Quinn’s Aftermath was uploaded I was just busy posting the Broken series and don’t have the energy to rewrite it. So if things don’t match up exactly I apologize
“He’s gonna try and get into your head Sam, say… say things that aren’t true to try and get you to tick. You have to take everything he says with a grain of salt. And no small talk. You have to go in knowing what you want. You give into his stalling he’s just going to get more and more under your skin.” Tank’s heart was beating at a rapid pace. What did Quinn want with Sam. It didn’t make any sense to them.
“Darlin.” Sam grabbed their face so they could look him in the eyes. “I know.” He said staring deep into their eyes. They could tell he was trying to calm them down. It only half worked.
“Sam there’s been things I haven’t told you….. he… I want to be the one to tell you personally but… knowing Quinn he’s going to bring them up. Please…. If you hate me after what he says then… give me at least a chance to explain myself.” They held on to him tight, they couldn’t let him go. He was their mate, their world.
“Darlin, Quinn is a sick fuck. I’m not going to let what ever bullshit he spews change my opinion of you. I love you, with my absolute everything.” Hearing him say that made their heart metaphorically skip a beat. He kissed their forehead and walked out to go confront Quinn.
When he got in there he did everything they told him to do. Skip the small talk, go straight to questions. But Quinn had other plans, as per usual.
“Why the hell am I here?” Sam asked.
“Because I want to get to know you Samuel. We’ve barley even met.” Hearing Quinn’s voice again was like needle’s piercing their skin from every direction.
“Oh I remember the night we met, perfectly. That image is never gonna leave my mind.” Sam shook his head No Sam don’t tell him that.
“I do look rather dashing in blood. Don’t I?” Quinn laughed, the needles pushed in harder.
“That supposed to be funnny?” Sam cocked his head.
“Two and a half years.” Quinn ignored the question “You think they would all blend together over the decades. But I never forget a face. How if Freddie doing? Does he still wake up screaming at night, thinking of me?” Quinn smirked. They could see the smoke coming off of Sam.
“Keep his name, out of your fucking mouth.” Sam seethed.
“Fredrick Collins.” At that point Tank themselves wanted to jump through the glass and strangle the fucker. “He did take your name didn’t he? Must have left a pretty good impression as a maker then. Was that your way of compensating for than your own less than stellar undead upbringing?” That got Tanks blood boiling. How fucking dare he bring up Sam’s turning. Especially knowing how hard it was for them.
“Tank, calm.” David shot them a look.
“Sorry.” They cleared their throat.
“Where is she?” Sam pushed
“I’m not done playing with you Sammy.” The nickname made them growl.
“Calm.” David repeated.
This was going on way too long, Quinn kept stalling, trying to get under Sam’s skin. They didn’t expect much less from him but they weren’t the most patient of people.
“I’ve never had a progeny. Tell me, what’s it feel like when he has the nightmares? Do you feel them too? Do you feel his fear like it’s your own or something separate? When he remembers my teeth tearing through his skin, ripping muscle off the bone. His blood splattering his face. Do you feel it whgen hes sobbing in bed, trapped in a dream begging for his life. What doe that feel like.” Tank was thankful Bright wasn’t here at the moment, the pain and anger they would be feeling having to listen to that.
Sam saw the two as if they were his own kids, as with Sam being their mate they met the two of them many times. They were good kids gone too soon. Sam was often really hard of Bright but Tank was able to get him to lossen up on them. Bright reminded Tank as themself, only younger and having more to live for. That night at wonderworld they never would have known Quinn would attack. They probably didn’t even know he was there. They were unempowered, and that world was hidden from them, for all they knew vampires were pale white teen heartthrobs who sparkle in the sun light.
“I don’t have to sit through this.” Sam started to get up.
“Is her life worth less than your comfort?” Quinn asked when Sam had his hand on the door. “Sit.” He demanded, a tone Tank heard a lot during their time with him. “Do you hold him when hes crying or is that too much? Consoling isn’t everyone’s strong suit.”
“Clearly.” They could practically hear Sam roll his eyes. “I have a question of my own,”
“Oh yes, ‘where is she?’ I heard you the first ten times” Quinn mocked
“No, something different.” Sam sounded proud, like he was able to get the jump on Quinn.
“And what might that be?” Curiosity, something rarely used by Quinn.
“Why am I the one in this chair? You know who you should actually be facing.” Tank’s eyes went wide, what was he doing.
“Be cause this is more fun.”
“Because youre a coward. Because youre scared to face them-”
“Because theres no greater pain I can give them than denying them closure. Because I know that having me this close just out of reach, refusing to talk to anyone but their beloved mate-” Tanks eyes could have popped out of their head hearing him say that.
“David….” they whispered.
“What?”
“He’s been watching me…” Their breathing got faster.
“What? How do you know?” He took a step closer to them.
“He called Sam my mate” The fear could practically be heard on their voice.
“Ok? So? He is.” David was very confused.
“But how would he know that? I’ve never called anyone that. Not even him…”
“Why are you doing this to them?” Sam questioned.
“I take betrayal very seriously.” Betrayal? Betrayal? He was the one who betrayed them, hes the sicko who attacked innocent people.
“You have to have trust before you can have betrayal.” Sam countered.
“Oh, they trusted me. They trusted me with every part of them.” Tank’s stomach dropped. “I was their safe place for all those ugly thoughts in their head, because they knew what was in my head was much worse. That I wouldn’t judge them for it, that they could ask me to do anything to them and I’d do it with a smile. Anything for my precious” The name made them want to puke, to scream, to cry. “Are you enjoying my sloppy seconds?” They felt something in their heart hurt, like Quinn took a wooden stake and gud it into them, their chest got tight.
“I’m enjoying being with my mate” Sam seethed, “Someone who is stronger than the shit you’ve tried to put them through.” Sam defended them.
“This is why your more fun Sammy! You don’t crack under pressure like they do. Not yet anyway. I wonder how many buttons I have to press to push you over the edge.” Quinn was trearting this like a game. To him it was.
“Save us both some time end this. tell me where the girl is.” Sam tried to get back on track.
“Game’s not over yet. Tell me something, vampire to vampire, their blood tastes like heaven, doesn’t it.” Their face got hot with shame. They could feel David looking at them. “And the sounds they make when the fang sinks in.” They shut their eyes, tight. “The way they’d wind their fingers into my hair, dragged me in tighter like they wanted me to bite hard enough to hit bone. It’s like nothing else.” They knew he was doing this to get under Sam’s skin, but they couldn’t help but feel absolutely disgusted by who they used to be, what they used to do.
“Where is the girl?” Sam didn’t let him in.
“Do they still prefer their bites on the thigh? I was never picky. Ephemeral artery would suit me just fine. Especially with how hard they always wanted me to bite. But with a mate, maybe they prefer the neck nowadays.” Tank tried to hide themself, the look they felt coming off of David was enough to send them back into their old self.
“He… bit… you?” David’s voice growled.
“It…. It was all consensual at the time David….” The tried to hide even harder.
“What is the point of any of this.” That obviously got on Sam’s nerves.
“I guess I’m asking the wrong person… because… you’ve never bitten them… have you?” Quinn chuckled. “I’ve been close to them Sammy, so close. With out them even noticing. I would have detected your mark on them. But I haven’t. You refuse to taste them. How interesting.” The smile on Quinn’s face sent a chill through them, the metaphorical needles in their skin were practically hitting bone at this point. “Surley they’ve asked for it by now. Knowing them.”
“You don’t know anything about them.” Sam was trying so hard to keep it together.
“I’m sure you wish that was true. Sorry to burst your bubble there cowboy. They always were my favorite thrall.” Quinn chuckled at Sam’s obvious anger. “How are the scales looking? Your comfort weighed against the life of a stranger. Still worth it?”
“If listening to your sick shit is what it takes to ensure that girl’s safety. Then yes, it’s worth it.” Sam looked into Quinn’s eyes.
“You mean that… how interesting. You know, I considered adding the stipulation that no one be listening behind the mirror while we spoke, I do love my privacy after all.” Quinn poked.
“Why didn’t you?” And Sam bit.
“Because then I wouldnt have the satisfaction of knowing my favorite thrall was in the audience.” He laughed and it made everything in Tanks body run cold. “I know you’re back there Precious. Have you missed me?”
He smiled looking at the mirror almost like he was looking directly at them. And that’s when they broke, the fear and anger and sadness that was running through their body had started to overflow. Their breathing got rapid, their eyes began to well with tears, their body began to tremble.
“Tank? What… hey.” David grabbed their shoulder but it only just made them jump and slip deeper into the panic. “Woah, hey, look at me. Tank, it’s okay.”
Almost as if he could sense their panic Sam shot up out of his seat “you asked for me. Talk. To. Me. Leave them out of this.” His words like knives
They felt their knees start to give out. And luckily David never let go of them, he lowered them down as they continued to let the panic attack run its course.
“It might be best to get them out of here. They don’t need to relive stories of their trauma from the one who gave it to them.” The detective interjected.
“No… Sam…” they managed between gasps.
“Sam’s going to be fine Tank. Come on, let’s get you some water.” David lifted them up and carried them out to the car to calm down.
#redacted asmr#redacted audio#redacted headcanons#redacted shaw pack#redacted sam#redacted david#redacted darlin#redacted quinn#redacted tank#redactedaudio#redacted department#Redacted trauma
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Okay rolling through with Fly to You and I have THOUGHTS. starting with one of my favourite details : the striped pants 😂. I don’t know how you see these moments and wrap them in, but it just takes the detail to the next level.
Can we just talk about that progress from a gleam of vulnerability to later the gleam of sincerity? Because, let’s face it, he can be a bit of a smug SOB so to see him challenged and confronted, it’s nice to see that facade drop a bit. He was back to initiating, whether that’s the I’ll-fated invitation to fly to England, to asking her over to actually have the genuine chat about what this is. When he drops the smugness they make so much progress!
I think like I said last time, he’s gently tried to create a routine that’s them amongst the hectic lifestyle - reading the horoscopes, drinking the coffee…little ways of showing her that although he was butt-hurt (such an older sister thing to say!), he still had little pieces of his day that were hers.
And the cinema references woven in? Chef’s kiss ✨✨
The striped boxers HAD to be included! 😂 SIGH the smugness, equally hot and annoying. Thank you so so so much for reading it and catching all the little details ♥️
I hope it’s okay I pasted your tma asks below so I could have them all in the same place…
He brought her a slice of the cake?!?! I am so not ready to process this.
First - I suppose it is a cruelty of his world, that he was having to have this conversation with Jeffrey before the two of them could actually sort through what this actually was. Just the image of MC hearing this all take place and waiting for Harry to say the words that he liked her? And of how, for someone that claims not to know him so well, she knows the pinched look while he’s having the chat, on their behalf, with Jeffrey? Rude, miss Anne…
A shame she had to miss another show at the forum, but I’m so glad she initiated the invite for him to come over post-show. Also him smelling of her soap? As if he’d raced over after the show and only allowed himself to truly unwind when he was at her place. It truly is the little details ✨
Speaking of, this section very nearly destroyed me: His strong arms found their way around your waist, pulling you into his body completely as if he needed you perfectly tucked into him to be able to relax. And once your back was pressed fully to his front, you felt every muscle in his body melt with a sigh and another kiss to the back of your neck. WHAT?! It’s so soft and I genuinely can’t process.
Also the satellite references were just too good - no wonder she was spinning out with everything going on!
I am truly loving the concept of TMA, because there have been so many facets to a morning after throughout their relationship. Here’s to more tap dancing across lines….
SIGH. All the things you caught seriously just made my day. TMA has seriously been so much fun to pop in and out of. Absolutely cheers to tap dancing across more lines 🥃🥃😂
Sorry me again. Back to process the cake moment in LA Mood… him sneaking out of his own wrap party and bringing a slice of cake? A way of including her in the celebrations when she wasn’t there? RUDE 🥺🥺🥺✨😍
This part was added in the final hour! A sweet little touch 😩
Sorry last one and then I’ll leave your inbox alone! I love wherever the inspiration for TMA has come from and I’m so grateful for it, because I love this universe. Just such a unique and realistic way of assessing the complexities of getting into the relationship this way. Complicated, but worth it (but also fun, and smug, and vulnerable and so fucking endearing).
This edition was so vulnerable but I’m so happy they both put their guards down to allow this to happen. The idea of him coming down from what could be one of the greatest nights of his career, to letting someone in to the fuck ups and just needing a moment that wasn’t about Rockstar Harry Styles? 🥺🥺🥺. But also the growth in her pre-emptively buying up gold decorations, because she KNEW she’d be seeing him at some point post-Grammys? 🥺🥺. They’ve grown so much, Miss Anne 🥺🥺
To go from FWB -> silence -> let’s get Legal about it -> this? They have been on a rollercoaster and I’m selfishly loving it. This part was just pure beauty: And you understood what he needed - a safe place to step back into reality, to step away and wash off the glamor and vanity. To grasp onto something outside of award ceremonies and designer clothes and constant, never-ending attention. And to him, that was your bed, your house, your world. To him, that was you… and you were not about to take it for granted.
I’m curious, do you have a favourite part of their story / moment that took you by surprise while writing it? Hope you’re keeping happy & healthy ✨
Never never never apologize, I’ve said it a million times and I’ll say it a million times over again… you are so cherished as a reader. Fun fact… there’s actually a blurb I just finished that goes in between La Mood and Happier! I can’t wait for you to read it 🙃 I would definitely say all the places I was able to add nods to lyrics throughout all the blurbs has hands down been my favorite part. A fun tribute to Harry’s House for sure.
Love you so much girl ♥️
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gordon angst ahead
(this isn't meant to stereotype anybody with the disorders and phobias that gordon suffers from. just some good ol angst.)
gordon gulped. he was scared, agitated, and confused all at once. he wanted to look away. he wanted to break the mirror, to see it in shambles across the bathroom. but... he just couldn't. there were too many imperfections... and gordon just had to fix them all... he just had to, he said to himself internally.
"gordon? what the fuck are you doing in there? we need to leave now, or else we'll be late for work!" henry yelled as he repeatedly banged on the bathroom door. "just... one! ugh! more... minute!" gordon grunted as he tried to comb his hair. there was a singular strand of his hair sticking up, and gordon just couldn't ignore it. eventually, gordon tried to stroke the hair strand down with a tiny bit of hair gel, and it worked. gordon rushed out of the bathroom and ran down the stairs, quickly grabbing his coat and hat. he then ran into the garage and sat down in the passenger seat, hyperventilating. he put his coat on, and began to sob softly. "i've failed... what have i done..?" gordon mumbled.
henry was following gordon at a slower pace, and eventually sat down next to him in the driver's seat. "i thought you were going to drive today like you pro-" henry was annoyed as fuck, but then he was cut off by the sudden increase of volume of his twin's cries of self-loathing. all of henry's anger evaporated in an instant, and he patted gordon's back. "calm down, dude... what is it this time?" he asked, his expression full of sorrow. "i can't do anything right! i've failed..." gordon hid his face in his hands. henry sighed. he was annoyed with gordon's behavior, but he knew what the poor bloke was going through. he knew who made gordon like this, and it was the same person who made henry who he was. it wasn't his fault. "oh, come on, gordon. it wasn't that bad. it's no reason to hate yourself for it..." henry hugged gordon. "you don't have to be 'perfect' all the time... i'm sure everybody still loves you for who you are." he cracked a little smile as he said this. gordon was about to ask henry 'do you still love me?' like he always did, but his mood brightened a bit as henry spoke and he forgot about that idea. but... gordon was still a bit uncertain. would everybody still love him for being himself? gordon didn't know. he was bewildered and began to feel a bit uneasy.
despite all of this, he hugged his twin back lovingly, his eyes still dripping with tears. he loved his brother with all his heart, but no matter what henry said, no matter how encouraging and compassionate it was, nothing could change gordon's mindset.
he needed to be perfect.
he needed to be perfect in order to be loved by society.
gordon sighed and let go, slumping back down in the car seat as he watched henry speed out of the driveway and onto the road.
--------------------------------------------
hyellow. welcome to the explanation part of this post. you can skip this part if you like if you want to figure out what the image is supposed to represent and what disorders gordon has. but, if you're too lazy to do any theorizing, then here ya go.
gordon has a variety of disorders, and 5 total. two of these are OCD and BDD, which are featured in the story. he also has a ton of phobias, with the most prominent ones here being atelophobia (fear of imperfections) and eisoptrophobia (fear of mirrors/your own reflection).
gordon's BDD makes him feel like his physical appearance has to be flawless 24/7, but this is worsened by his OCD, which makes gordon feel like basically everything about him has to be perfect when he's out and about in society because he fears that if he makes one, just ONE teensy tiny mistake, everyone around him won't love him anymore. gordon twitches a lot in an attempt to 'correct' and 'perfect' the position he's in in public, and also stutters because to him, words have to come out a certain way or else. alas, this is where his fear of mirrors and his fear of imperfections comes from.
gordon is fine around only 4 characters though, because he knows that they truly love him for being himself. these people are scotsman, henry, rebecca (he just calls her becca), and diesel 10. gordon tries to be the person he wants to be around these 4 (well not scotsman though, that mf gone in doncaster or some shit. but if he ever comes back gordon will be himself!! yeah!), but if he's around anyone else, even his close friends, gordon tries to be like them (he's a chameleon basically) because he doesn't know if they truly love him for who he is. he does this to try and make himself more 'lovable' around others.
the image represents gordon's phobias and disorders that i talked about earlier in this post. the mirrors on the wall display what parts of gordon that he thinks are imperfect, such as his long nails and the slight bags underneath his eyes. the various objects around him are basic items like a wipe and a hair comb, all of which are objects that gordon used to try and fix his imperfections. there's also tons of broken glass around him, obviously representing his hatred towards his own reflection. why does gordon hate his own reflection you may ask? not gonna lie, i should've said this earlier. it all comes down to this: imperfections. he hates looking at his own flaws, because he knows that he isn't flawless like he wants to be, and that includes his personality.
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𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬
warning : angst, heartbreak, betrayal, swearing, crying, mentions of cheating, death threats.
summary : he may have owned up to it, but actions have consequences.
a/n: thank you to @venicebixch for reading this first and telling me to post this <3 - 💫
dear y/n,
watching you walk out of my room so aggressively and angrily, is an image i'll never be able to get out of my head.
your friends dm'ing me calling a 'piece of shit' or an asshole is something i don't blame them for. my actions have consequences.
the consequence was watching you move on. but not with anyone, but with my best friend. that shit hurts. when thomas showed me the picture you posted on your story of you and jett kissing, multiple emotions rushed through me. anger, unhappiness, heartbreak, betrayal, and so much more that i can't even put to words.
regret is something i would not feel. everything i would do, i wouldn't care about what anyone felt. but why were you the first to show me that?
why did i have to be so attached to you? why do i have to love you so much but be so stupid?
why did i sleep with her knowing that i shouldn't have?
you found out and you left. the second you stepped out of the door, it was like the ceiling was collapsing on top of me and no one was able to help me.
i felt like i was suffocating, i couldn't breathe. i was laying on the floor, disgusted with myself for hurting the one good thing in my life.
while i was pretty much dying in my room all alone, you were probably with jett. i never expected you two to be together at all.
you guys are together and now i'll never get you back. but i wouldn't expect anything else. you deserve to move on, as much as it hurts me, you deserve happiness and i hope jett is giving you that.
i miss you, i love you, and i hope that one day, you'll forgive me.
love,
vinnie the pooh
i sighed as i read the letter that i received three months ago.
when i first received it, i cried. you can't blame me, vinnie will always have a piece of my heart that will belong to him. that's the funny thing about first loves, they will always find their way back into your mind whether you like it or not.
jett and i celebrated our four month anniversary last week. you might think 'rebound' but he is far from that.
he was the one that told me that vinnie had sex with faith. he thought that 'bro code doesn't exist if he fucks up like that'.
he would spend the night at my house, rubbing my back to calm down my sobs. making me laugh at any time and any place.
as time progressed, so did our feelings. we never would've expected to be together but life happens i suppose.
as far as i know, vinnie cheated once. but that was one too many times. i don't know when or where it happened and i don't care.
my phone starts ringing 'jett❤️' is being shown on my screen. smile and answer the phone.
"hey baby, um how are you?" he asks sounding concerned.
"uh fine? why?" i ask, confused by his question and tone.
'"have you seen twitter?" he sighs. i furrow my eyebrows while mumbling a confused "no."
"i'll call you after i check it out," i hang up not allowing him to respond.
i open twitter and check whats trending. my eyes widen when i see 'y/n cheated on vinnie hacker with jett ashford' as #1 on trending.
huh?
i click on it, seeing a post of vinnie liking a tweet about someone accusing me of cheating.
my dm's being flooded with his fangirls saying 'cheater' or 'kys'
vinnie is one dumb motherfucker.
@y/n.y/l/n tweeted
i'm going live in a few minutes to explain the whole thing. the hate needs to stop.
💬 128k 🔁 70k ❤️ 259k
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"hello welcome everyone," i greet, biting my lip anxiously.
'homie hopper'
'downgrade😭'
'told y'all she's a hoe'
"you know what, i'm not gonna wait for people to join," i smile in frustration.
"let me just clear the whole thing, i did not cheat on vinnie with jett. i didn't cheat at all," i sigh, trying to calm down.
"vinnie lied, and if you want proof..." i stand up to grab the letter he gave me, not noticing that vinnie and the entire hype house house joined the live.
90k people joined the live
i walk back towards my phone with the letter in my hand. "this. this letter vinnie gave to me pouring out his emotions," i hold up the folded letter.
"i will not read the whole thing but i will read one small part," i unfold it and search for that one specific sentence.
"ah! 'why did i sleep with her knowing that i shouldn't have?' " i read. i check the comments seeing what they are saying.
'she's still lying, the paper is probably blank'
'still don't believe you'
"y'all don't believe me?" i raise an eyebrow. i see that nailea and jett are watching the live so i speak, "nai please join the live for more confirmation." i accept her request.
"hey," nai smiles when she joins. "hey. now please explain the whole thing, because i don't even know it, only you and jett." she nods.
"so i went to hype because i needed to talk to vinnie about something to get you for the anniversary that your mom passed away," she starts and i nod.
"so i went there and long story short he was fucking someone, i will not get into details but i'll just say that they were doing it," i lick the inside of my cheek, wanting to ignore the fury i'm currently feeling.
"he saw me and begged me not to tell you, he was crying and shit. it was kinda embarrassing," she mumbles the last part.
"so i left and told jett, just to see if he knew about it. turns out he didn't and i'm pretty sure that's when he told you," i nod in response.
"yes, he told me. jett was there for me the entire time that i was in my room locked up thinking about what i did wrong. we started getting closer and eventually started dating, no he's not a rebound so i don't wanna hear it."
"jett and i just had our four month anniversary last week, and three months before that, i received this letter from vinnie via mail," i hold up the letter.
"vinnie, i hope you're watching this and if you're not, then tiktokroom will post this. don't send me a letter talking about bullshit then lie to your own damn fans saying that i cheated on you. you wrote on this piece of paper saying that you felt betrayed that i got with jett," i pause to take a deep breath.
"well guess what, i felt betrayed that you slept with her the same week that marked three years that my fucking mom died," i'm not sad, i'm more pissed.
"so i'm sorry if what you wanted was sex but i was mourning the loss of my mom while you were having sex with someone that wasn't me."
'damn vinnie'
'we love you y/n'
'it happened months ago why do you still care 💀'
"believe me or not, i don't care. but i know the truth and so does everyone else that i know. vinnie you are not forgiven and you'll never be. fuck you," and with that i end the live.
"it's gonna be okay," i hear my boyfriend speak from behind me. i turn around and smile at him, not questioning how he got in.
"i know it will, i just don't know what he was thinking," i sigh. he grabs my arm, making me stand up and wraps his arms around my waist.
i smile and wrap my arms around his neck, hugging him back. "i love you," he whispers.
butterflies... wait what?
"i-it's okay if you don't feel the same way, i j-just wanted to get it off my chest," he looks down, anxiously waiting for me to respond.
i smile and connect out lips, he immediately kisses back. his tense body relaxing to my touch.
i pull away, heat rising towards my cheeks at the way he's staring at me, like the only girl in the world.
i love him
"i love you too," he smiles brightly, showing his pearly white teeth.
"i. love. you." he pecks my lips repeatedly after each word, causing me to giggle.
our moment is cut short when my phone starts blowing up. "it's gonna be about him just watch," i release a humorless chuckle.
i smile at him before unwrapping my arms and grabbing my phone.
@tiktokroom tweeted
looks like #vinniehacker account got banned on all platforms, including his twitch account after seemingly lying about his ex-girlfriend #y/n.y/l/n cheating on him with his best friend #jettashford. thoughts? ☕️👀
💬 200k 🔁 150k ❤️ 483k
vinnie's pov:
"vinnie what the fuck!" thomas yells at me. i run my fingers through my hair. i can't log into any of my accounts.
"i don't know okay! i was just so fucking pissed!" i yell back.
"boohoo your ex moved on, deal with it! get this fixed or you're out of the house!" he threatens.
"you can't do that!" i stand up. "yes i can, you wanna know why? 'cause i own this fucking house. i made this for content, and if you can't do that, then you have no place here," he mutters, looking straight into my eyes clenching is jaw.
he gives me one last look before storming out of my room.
"damn your fans really turned on you," nikita teases. i look at her with a 'not now' look.
"oop- sorry," she walks out.
i take a breath of frustration. "why do i have to be so stupid."
"i don't know, you tell me," i hear a soft spoken voice that i've been wanting to hear for months.
i turn around and my jaw almost drops at the sight in front of me. she is actually standing a few feet away from me looking so effortlessly beautiful.
oh how bad i want to sweep her off her feet and shower her with kisses telling her how much i love her.
"y-y/n? what are you doing here?"
"we haven't talked in months and the most recent thing i've heard about you on the internet is how you said i cheated on you," she steps towards me but stops once she's about five feet away from me and crosses her arms.
"i'm sorry," i say so quietly she can barely hear me.
"for what exactly?" her eyebrow raises, waiting for my pathetic answer.
"for everything. for cheating on you, for making up lies about you, for hurting you, and for ruining the best thing i ever had," i look into her eyes. the same eyes i fell in love with. i still have hope that she has the least bit of love for me. but she's with him.
"vinnie.. i forgive you, i do."
my eyes soften at her words.
"i still love you," i blurt out, but not regretting saying it.
"vinnie.."
"no please let me talk. i fucking love you, more than anything or anyone in this world. i am so damn sorry that i cheated, i have never regretted anything as much as i regret that. you have no idea how much it pains me to see all the pictures of you and jett on social media. or seeing comments on my posts about how happy you look and it's not with me. it hurts that i can't pick you up and kiss you or even hug you. i hate myself for hurting you, i hate myself for all the struggles i put you through, i love you and i strongly believe that somewhere in your kind heart you still love me even if you don't want to admit it," unwanted tears start slipping out.
every. single. word. i said, i meant it. i love this woman, i want to have kids with her, i want her to be my wife, i just want her to be mine again no matter what it takes.
she closes her eyes to fight back tears.
"vi-nnie," her voice cracks slightly.
"i will always love you-" my eyes go from upset to hopeful.
"-but, you had your chance and there is no going back," my mouth opens a little and more tears start falling out.
"what we had was beautiful, but that's in the past now. you have to move on like me. find another person to want to have kids with, another person to call your yours, find another person for you to love and another person that you'll want to marry," her words are heartbreaking, i don't want anyone except her.
"i don't want anyone but you," i hiccup. how could she tell me to move on?
"i'm sorry vinnie, but you have to move on," is the last thing she says before walking away leaving me there. heartbroken, sobbing uncontrollably. my heart is physically in pain from her heartbreaking words. how can she think i want someone else?
"i love you and i'm proud of you baby," i hear, jett? say from the hallway.
please don't say it
"i love you too," she whispers back making me cry even harder.
author's note: feedback is very much appreciated <3
#vinnie hacker#vinnie fanfic#vinnie imagines#vinnie hacker angst#vinnie vincent#vincent hacker#vinnie hacker fanfic#vhackerr
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hi!! could i request a short nsfw story with Albedo? I read something a while ago and I can't find anything similar but he was written as very disinterested with a desperate s/o and hdhgfdshjfg it had me in shambles istg. sorry if this is too much TwT
- NOTSFW!! Minors do not interact with this post -
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Dismissive
Albedo x female reader
This ended up being way longer than I thought it would be so...enjoy 0-0
———
Albedo is often rather busy, his duties as the chief alchemist of the Knights of Favonious take up nearly all of his time. When he does have free time, he’s playing with Klee, taking you to lunch or passing out from exhaustion on his way home from the knights’ headquarters. He never learns though, instead he works even harder once he’s released from the Church’s infirmary. Then he rushes to catch up on the work he missed while he was out of commission.
All in all, he is hardly able to take care of you when your certain... urges... Make themselves known. You spend many nights alone, your sheets cold though your mind is filled with images of your boyfriend. His soft, pale hands running over your skin, his slender fingers working you open, his eyes half lidded as he stares down at you...That is just a fantasy though. One that plagues you, that makes you crave Albedo’s touch more and more as time passes on. Today was your breaking point.
You went to visit Albedo at work, sitting at his desk while he went over notes and talked to his colleagues. He practically ignored your presence for hours, only talking to you in order to swat your hand away from his work
“Don’t touch that” he had warned “If that gets on your skin, it will melt through your flesh until only bone remains. You have no idea how dangerous these chemicals truly are” and with that, he went back to work, hunching over his parchment in the dim light his lamp provided.
He looked so handsome in this light. The way the warm, gold hit his hair, it almost sparkles. His pale skin looked warm and welcoming too, you could imagine what his cheek would feel like pressed against yours, how warm his hands would be after wearing gloves all day, how soft his hair would be if you just had the chance to weave your fingers into it and pull-
You found yourself blushing at the thought, trying to pull your gaze off of him to look anywhere else but you just couldn’t take your eyes off the man. He had you under his spell, you were in too deep now. The man in question huffed a sigh, abruptly getting up to rummage through a shelf of chemicals. Glass bottles clinked against each other, the colorful liquids sloshing around. Finally he found what he was looking for: a short, stubby looking tube with a wide base and a brownish red solution inside. As he shook the tube, the liquid seemed to shimmer in the light though that could have been your imagination. You squirm in your seat as you try to calm down. Now isn’t the time to be thinking like that, you just have to wait another hour or so before making your move on him! He won’t be able to say no when his work is done. That’s was your plan at least
“You’ve been staring at me for awhile now,” Albedo points out, ever so observant. “Is something wrong?” He already seems to know the answer though. The blond crosses the room back to you, gesturing for you to stick your hand out. He places the tube into your palm, watching you with an unreadable expression
You turn the tube over in your hand, watching the liquid inside move around “What do you want me to do with this...?”
“Drink it” He says, sounding almost bored as he does. Without even bothering to watch you drink, he sits back at his desk to continue his report.
“What will this do?” You ask as you take the cork out
“You’ll see” that answer doesn’t exactly reassure you at all. Just after he got done telling you how dangerous these chemicals can be, he’s now having you drink one? It’s a strange feeling. On one hand, you don’t want to be a test subject- what if something happens? But on the other hand, Albedo is extremely skilled, there’s no way he’d have you drink something dangerous. So you give the vial a sniff before downing the contents.
The liquid tastes like tea though it burns on its way down, so much so that it sends you into a fit of coughing
“That’s normal” Albedo tells you, not bothering to look up at you. You try to ask again what this was supposed to do but you get no response.
The longer you sit, the hotter you feel. Sweat begins to form on your brow, your hands start to shake. Just as you’re beginning to worry you’re hit with a wave of want. Suddenly the room is a thousand degrees, your body aches so terribly. And you’re aware that Albedo has- no is the cure.
You fall out of your chair onto the cold, wood floor, gasping at the impact. You grab Albedo’s ankle, shaking his foot to get his attention “Bedo...Bedo help me” you whimper pitifully, whining as you feel your own wetness between your thighs “It’s too much...”
You hear him shuffle papers around before he leans down so you can see him “That is exactly what that potion was meant to do” he explains flatly “This is what you wanted, right? Enjoy yourself”
“I can’t just lay here on the floor like this- I can’t do this alone” you yank on his leg again, resting your forehead on the top of his boot. You’re hit with another wave of need, your body shaking as your hole clenches around nothing “Please baby please help me” you long for him to touch you, for him to really touch you, not just the version of him in your dreams
Albedo simply sighs, pushing his chair back so he can properly look at you beneath the table “Lay on your back and open your legs” you do as you’re told, hurrying to get into position. You lay back, spreading your legs for him. Now he can clearly see the wetness that seeped through your underwear and pants but he doesn’t react. Instead, he scoots his chair forward again, going right back to his work. Just as you’re about to complain, he lifts his foot, pressing the heel of his boot against you. The friction of your pants rubbing against your clit feels so good- far better than it ever has before. You shudder and moan at the contact, pushing your hips up into his foot. Albedo pays you no mind, simply rubbing his foot up and down over you.
Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, it has you seeing stars and losing your breath. You’ve never finished so quickly before, especially with such little contact. “That’s all it took? Hm, I thought you’d last a bit longer” the blond almost sounds disappointed “Let’s try again” before you could process what he said, he was back to the same rhythm again.
This went on for hours, at least it felt like hours. Hours of moaning, cumming, whining and pleading for Albedo to fuck you properly. He didn’t budge, instead he simply dragged orgasm after orgasm out of you with just the heel of his boot. You were shaking uncontrollably now as your oh-so sensitive body tried to keep up with your boyfriend’s ruthless experiment- yes, this had to be an experiment of some sort! Something so cruel yet so deliciously good, it was enough to have you sobbing
“Quiet down for a moment” he nudges you with his foot, pushing his seat back to make room for himself as he sits on the floor in front of you. You reach out for him to pull him down for a kiss, sniffling and gasping through your tears. “Don’t cry, you’re fine” he sighs, kissing your wet cheek. With that, he works your soaked undergarments off, pulling his cock out of his pants “You’ve made quite the mess. I’ll have to mop the floor now”
With little warning, he lines himself up and thrusts into your sore, sensitive hole, earning a wet squelch as he does. You moan pitifully, grabbing at his arms, his shoulders, any part of him you can. Albedo simply sets a quick rhythm, ignoring your complaints of ‘it’s too much Bedo please!’ as he works to get himself off. He has needs too and knowing that he’s using you as his experimental fuck toy makes you feel even hotter. You finally have his attention! You’re going to let him know just how good he makes you feel
He doesn’t respond to your moans, grunting in your ear as he picks up the pace. He breaths in your scent, His office is filled with the sounds of your slapping skin and high pitched, incoherent moans “Yes! Yes, Bedo! Please- please use me! Yes!” You cry out, digging your fingers into the fabric of his jacket. Albedo’s breath hitches and he comes, his hips jerking forward as he does.
The two of you stay like that for a few minutes, panting as you compose yourselves. The effects of whatever potion your boyfriend had given you was wearing off, though not entirely, you didn’t feel as hot now though your body still shook like a leaf.
“Mm. Well, you’re free to go home” Albedo murmurs, using the hem of your shirt to clean himself off before tucking himself back into his pants. “I’ll do my best to be home before sunrise but don’t sit up and wait for me, I advise that you go home and sleep this off”
“T-that’s it?” You ask, sitting up to meet his gaze again “I can’t walk home like this, my clothes are ruined and my legs-“
“Sucrose has a change of clothes in case of emergencies, go ahead and change into that” he merely shrugs, hoisting himself back into his seat, scooting forward to get back to work. You can hardly believe it! After all of that, all he can think about is sending you home so he can work? While it is somewhat surprising, you also could have expected this behavior from him.
“Ugh...Fine, whatever” you groan, stretching your sore legs, nudging him as you do “You owe me”
“Owe you for what? Haven’t you had fun?” He asks. You can hear the soft scratching of his quill against parchment “If anything, you owe me”
“Well yes but next time, I’d rather be in bed with you, not on your gross laboratory floor...” you roll over on your side, resting your head on your arms “Maybe I’ll run an experiment on you next time...See how you like it”
“I would enjoy that. Any opportunity for education or exploration is fine with me”
You roll your eyes, unable to help the soft smile that creeps across your face. Your limbs feel heavy, your body is achy and tired from the repeated orgasms. You really could fall asleep right here on the cool floor... Before you can even think about getting up, you fall asleep, getting the rest your body deserved after such a taxing evening. You even managed to sleep through the journey home as albedo carried you, covering you with his jacket just in case. You also missed his content smile as he tucked you into bed. He rarely showed emotion, he has a lot of difficulty doing so, but it isn’t that hard when he sees your sleeping face.
Please ignore any spelling errors I wrote this so fast akdjalsjks the albedo thirst is real
#genshin impact writing#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#series: smut#series: notsfw#genshin impact smut#night posts#genshin impact albedo#albedo x reader
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Too Far
Angst!!!
Atsumu Miya x Female Reader
Word count: 1.5k
Loving Atsumu Miya was absolute bliss. You loved every second of his affection, his skin, his warmth, his laugh, and his jokes. That giant bastard may be a crackhead to his friends and family, but with you, his affectionate side just pops out of nowhere. His eyes filled with love when he looks at you. His arms opened so wide to envelope you in an embrace so tight, your feet lift up the floor with ease. His words laced with care and love with a hint of playfulness at the side and they never failed to make your insides scramble everytime.
You shake your head from the daydream that you’ve consistently been having since the start of the relationship.
God, you loved him so much, didn’t you? You gave your whole world to the man of your dreams. You sacrificed time, effort, patience, you name it, just to have one second by his side.
And because of that love, you became an absolute fool.
Who were you kidding, right? THE Great Atsumu Miya will never settle. Who were you to tame that wild beast? How special did you think you were when he had a sea of people under his spell, his command?
Just face it, you’re nothing to him.
And so you did. You left your shared apartment after waiting for him to come home for the nth time. Who knows where he was, who he’s with, what he’s doing. You were done thinking of an imaginary Atsumu who will love you wholeheartedly. That’s just not going to happen.
After many sobs and insecurities flooding in, you were ready to face the world again. Even more ready to face Atsumu. He’s nothing to you now. There were no grudges held in your heart. There were no tears in yours eyes. But more importantly, there was new love formed in your chest and that’s reserved for the most important person in your life. You.
“Damn, y/n!!! What happened to you?!” One of your friends cheered as you met to go to a club on a Friday night. Work was pretty hectic lately and you all agreed to a well- deserved night out.
“No kidding, you’re literally glowing!!!” Another hyped and slapped your ass playfully as you walked through the doors. “Let’s get wasted tonight!!!”
And my god, your whole group did. You all danced to your heart’s content, ordered liquor until your head got rid of all inhibitions, laughed at each other’s faces and jokes… overall, it was a night to remember.
“Y/n?” You heard a voice behind you followed by your right wrist being cased within the hands of another.
You were just on the verge of getting sober so you wonder if the image right in front of your eyes was real or not. He used to stand with his chest puffed out in confidence but now, he looked deflated. Under his eyes were dark circles, proof of him not sleeping well. His usual playful demeanor was gone and the man in front of you now looked so lost, confused… lonely.
“Atsumu?” You squinted, not believing the sight in front of you.
“It really is you.” He slurred and you had a whiff of liquor on his breath. “How have you been?”
“I’ve been doing great, Miya. Thanks.” You smiled, genuinely.
“Where’s my sweet nickname?” He joked. “You look so damn happy celebratin’ with yer friends tonight, huh? That happy to be rid of me, ain’t ya?” He chuckled darkly.
You were taken aback with what he said. What does he have to do with you having a great party?
“Miya, don’t do this right now. I have to go.” You tried to excuse yourself from his intrusion.
“I hate it. I hate it so goddamn much.” He whispered, closing the distance between you two and caged you on the wall behind. “I’ve been a mess since ya left, sweetheart. Seeing you having the time of your life makes me feel so damn angry. Am I that easy to forget?”
“Atsumu, I—“
“Come back to me.” He puffed. “Come back to me and I promise to treat ya right. I’ll do everythin’ ya want, just please… I love you.” His voice faltered at the end as whimpers of his cries followed. Never in your whole life did you think you’d see him break down because of you. But here he is! AND you never thought of hearing those three words with utmost sincerity from his lips. But again, here he is!
A nostalgic smile lifted from your lips and Atsumu stared at it for a while. The alcohol in his system was enough to make himself go haywire but your smile sent him spiraling. He meant what he said. He missed you to death. He needed you back.
“Come back to me, please.” He repeated and leaned his forehead on yours.
“I’m sorry, Miya.” You said as you held his face in your hands. “Thank you for being honest with me. But it’s too late. I’ve moved on from everything and you should too.”
His head violently shook no as more tears spilled from his eyes. He’ll do everything for you except let you go. “I’ll be better. Please, I’ll be better! I’ll try my best to keep ya, baby, that’s how much I love you! I can’t—“
“Then try your best with the next person because it won’t be me, Miya. I hope you understand.” You said while wiping his tears. “That relationship was too toxic for me and I can’t go back.”
“I’m sorry.” He said, voice too slow and too low to even hear but you did. “I’m so sorry.”
“Atsumu! You prick!” Your head whipped to the left at the familiar voice that boomed. Osamu barreled over to where you were but his steps slowed as he saw your figure caged inside Atsumu’s arms.
“Y/n.” He said, as if in a daze.
“Hi Osamu.” You greeted awkwardly since Atsumu’s stare is still hard and focused on your face. The alcohol seemed to have a toll on him and he was beginning to doze off. Either that, or he still did not process what you’ve been saying.
“Stop it, man.” Osamu came behind his twin and caught him by the collar. He turned to you next while carrying a limp Atsumu in his embrace. “I’m sorry for his behavior. He drinks more than he can take. He’s been out of it since… you know… your break up.”
You smiled sadly. “Oh.” Well, what were you supposed to say to that?
“Y/n!!! Come back here!” One of your friends saw you and waved you to the table.
“That’s my cue to go.” You smiled.
“Yeah.” Osamu nodded.
“Osamu, you’re here!” Atsumu woke up from his reverie and comically hugged his brother, surprising the both of you.
“You know what? Y/n was here! I told her I love her but she didn’t believe me! Tell her! Tell her for me! Maybe she’ll believe you! Help me man, I can’t lose her!”
Your chest burned at the sight and at his words. How you longed for him to say those three words in the past. But it’s just too late.
“Stop it, Tsumu.” Osamu whispered, heart aching for his twin. He saw how broken he was these past few months but then it was his fault after all. He shot you an apologetic look. “I’m sorry for this again. Take care, Y/n.”
“Take care too, Osamu.” You smiled. “Take care of him too.”
“I will.” He agreed then proceeded to take Atsumu to their table.
“It hurts, Samu.” Sudden whimpers came out from Atsumu’s mouth after a few steps. “It fucking hurts. I don’t think I can take this.”
“Imagine how she felt, you bastard.” Osamu sighed. “She really was a keeper, wasn’t she?”
Atsumu hummed in agreement. “She was. She still is.”
“Look, she’s gone, Tsumu. You need to move the fuck on and stop tormenting the poor girl! You’ve caused her enough pain.” Atsumu then was dumped harshly on the cushions.
“You don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” The saying rang in Atsumu’s ears, echoing louder and louder as the music in the club intensified throughout the night. It mocked him to the core! He drank himself to oblivion for months now, trying to forget your presence in his life. Visions of you were everywhere! You were in his room tucking him to bed. You were in the kitchen whipping up a random recipe from the internet. You were in his living room, dancing to his playlist even when you heard the songs for the first time. You were in the stands cheering for his every move. You were even on his morning jogs, passing his water bottle to make sure he’s hydrated.
You took care of him in the best way possible and he can’t believe how involved you were with his life. How did he not see that? He didn’t realize that what he bothered himself within the past were temporary things that brought temporary bliss. You were his life, his love. How could he throw something so serious? So permanent?
He watched you from afar, drunk as fuck but visions still sharp as a hawk on your side. You were happily talking to your friends, rewarding them with your gorgeous smile and wonderful laugh. Maybe this was his punishment for ever breaking someone as pure as you.
He may be close to where you were but he can never be too close to be yours again.
Okay wait HAHAHA I love Atsumu but I wanted to write an angsty post about him so here it is! This was inspired by the song “Bedroom” by JJ Lin and Anne- Marie. I just love that song so much, I have it on repeat rn.
ALSO YOU'RE SO WORTH IT AND YOU DESERVE THE BEST! Just reminding y'all in case you forgot. <3 hope you liked this one! <3
#atsumu x y/n#atsumu angst#atsumu miya#miya atsumu#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu reader insert#haikyu x reader#angst#atsumu fic#atsumu x female reader#atsumu scenarios#hq atsumu#atsumu imagines#haikyuu angst
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Choose Me Instead II Draco Malfoy x Reader II Ch. 24 of 27: Graduation
Summary: Pretending to be in a relationship with Draco Malfoy to get back at your ex might have not been the smartest idea you ever had. Especially during your last year of Hogwarts where you should be focusing on exams and your future plans. However, you were just pretending. There was no way in hell you could actually catch feelings for someone like Malfoy. … Right?
Choose Me Instead Masterlist
Words: 3.2k
Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!Reader, post-war
Warnings: mentions of mental health issues incl. self-harm (only in like 2 sentences tho)
Four weeks until graduation …
Draco Malfoy and you were over. Whatever glimpse of happiness and fleeting bliss had been bestowed upon you – it was gone. It was gone and you were alone again. In your head, you replayed your last time together over and over and over until you felt sick to your stomach. For months did you pretend not to feel anything for him beyond friendship but damn, you loved him. You loved with him with every fiber of your body. Every thought on every day was devoted to him and him only. You looked for him in the hallways, glanced at him during class and each time your eyes met, another piece of your heart broke.
To be quite honest, you weren’t worried about yourself as much as you worried about him. You spoke to Theo from time to time, asking him about Draco. He told you exactly what you had suspected all along: his dreams had gotten worse. He skipped therapy sessions, spent his days scribbling in his black notebook instead. You knew it wasn’t fair to you but you still couldn’t help but blame yourself.
During meals, you watched him with Astoria who was glued to his side. To your surprise, she seemed happier. Even though she grew paler with each day she wore a smile on her face. An honest, happy smile. You heard her laugh and wondered if it had been this beautiful all the time. You watched her talk to Draco with a spark in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. You wanted to hate her but seeing her like this? It certainly made it harder for you to do so. Still, each time you saw them walking to class or sit outside on the grass, your stomach plummeted and on particularly bad days, tears filled your eyes.
Eventually, you grew sick of feeling this way. You had fought hard for your own happiness to return after all the shit you went through and to now have it taken away from you in an instant by him felt humiliating. The whole mess started because you wanted to hurt Ron. So how did you end up hurting instead?
You tried tuning out the pain by burying yourself in work. Studying, quidditch training, stupid parties in the Gryffindor common room – you tried anything and everything to numb down the pain. It worked. For the most part. However, your thoughts always began to stray after a while. As soon as his image popped up in your mind, you pinched yourself as if you were trying to wake up from a bad dream. One time, you did it during a therapy session and Merlin, did you regret that. The lecture about self-harm that followed was definitely not worth it.
The days grew warmer. Sunlight fell through the dusty windows of the Hogwarts classrooms, the smell of flowers and freshly cut grass filled the air. Summer had begun to knock on the door. You weren’t ready to open it yet. Once summer arrived, your life would change once again.
However, before that happened you still had to get through your exams. You dreaded the thought of taking them. These past months … well, to put it gently, your focus hadn’t been on school exactly. Sure, you spent hours upon hours in the library but you weren’t sure how much of the things you read actually stuck with you.
“Ready?”, Ginny asked you the morning of your final exams.
You glanced at her and shook your head. She laughed. “Come on, it won’t be that bad. We’ve taken thousands of exams, we’ll get through it. What’s the worst that can happen?”
“Y/N doesn’t achieve the grades she needs to become an auror,” Hermione chimed in matter-of-factly. “That’s the worst that can happen.”
“Thanks, Mione,” you said dryly.
She smiled at you apologetically. “It won’t come to this, don’t worry. You got this. We all do.” She took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
***
Two weeks until graduation …
You sat together with Ginny and Hermione at the Black Lake, feet dangling in the water, eyes closed as you enjoyed the sunrays warming your face. Ginny kept on talking about the tryouts for the Holyhead Harpies that would take place just a few days after graduation while you and Hermione only occasionally commented. You reassured her that she would do just fine. After all, there was no doubt in your mind that Ginny Weasley would join the team and have a successful quidditch career ahead of her.
After a while, the conversation shifted. Hermione worried about the amount of reading she had to do before her internship at the Ministry of Magic started, and you snorted. “They don’t expect you to know everything about the job beforehand, y’know?”
“Well, good impressions are important,” she replied.
During the whole afternoon, the topic of your future plans didn’t come up. Your friends sensed your apprehension regarding that particular topic. After the utter debacle that was your exams, you tried to forget that you were supposed to have an idea of what to do with your life in just about two weeks. You still waited on a letter from the Ministry, waited for the news that your plan had worked out. That you could become an auror, a dream you had since you could think. Yet, you screwed up and you weren’t sure if your performance in the final exams was enough to get you a placement. Thankfully, your parents were still too wound up in the whole drama Alissa brought with her. They didn’t even ask how your exams went and you weren’t mad. The importance of exams paled in comparison to the prospect of a life sentence in Azkaban.
A bee buzzed close to your ear and you opened your eyes again.
***
One week before graduation …
“You look horrible, darling.”
You rolled your eyes when Theo appeared by your side. You were on your way to the Great Hall, earlier than usual in an attempt to study a few more minutes in the library before your first class. “Thank you, Theodore. Just what a woman wants to hear before breakfast.”
He snickered. “Apologies.” Then he held his hands out, motioning you to give him some of the books in your arms to help you carry them.
“Accepted,” you said and gave him the whole pile of books instead. He groaned and you chuckled at him. “How are you then?”, you asked.
“Relieved about the fact that school is almost over.” He dodged a first year student who ran past him and one books slid dangerously close to the edge of the pile. You were surprised by how many students were already awake.
“Any plans for what comes after?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “Travel.”
You looked at him in surprise. “Travel?”
“Blaise and I are going to travel around Europe for a few months,” he explained. “I need to get out of the country where everyone knows me as ‘that Death Eaters kid’ and Blaise is simply loaded with money and doesn’t want to work.” The two of you laughed at the last statement. “And afterwards …” Theo shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”
“That sounds nice,” you sighed. “When will you leave?”
“After Draco’s wed-” He stopped midsentence. “Ah, shit.”
You bit your tongue. Actually bit it. “It’s official then,” you said softly. “I haven’t seen the announcement yet.”
Theo stopped. You had almost reached the Great Hall. The Slytherin looked at you with sympathy. “It’ll come out today.” He lowered his voice: “I’m sorry, Y/N.”
You avoided his gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
Theodore stayed quiet until you resumed your walk. “For what it’s worth, he doesn’t love her,” he finally said. The statement hurt even more.
“What a fucking mess we made.”
Theo nodded. He didn’t say anything else. When you walked into the Great Hall, he handed you the books back and softly squeezed your arm before mumbling: “I’m really sorry.”
He was right – the Daily Prophet printed the announcement of the wedding on that same day. Yet, when an owl dropped the paper onto your plate, you were oddly calm. You lowered the glass of orange juice carefully and rolled up the newspaper. Their picture was on the front page.
Astoria’s beauty was unlike anything you had ever seen. She wore a simple black dress and was glowing in the picture. She smiled widely as her gaze switched between Draco and the camera. Spooky how different she looked. You wondered if they had used magic to hide the circles underneath her eyes and the sunken-in cheeks. Draco stood beside her, wearing his trademark simple, black suit. His back was straight, his eyes focused on the camera. He didn’t smile.
As if you had felt his stare, you looked up. Draco sat across the hall at the Slytherin table, Greengrass – his fiancée – by his side who excitedly showed the article to Parkinson. You forced yourself to smile but it didn’t reach your eyes. He turned away. Just in time to miss the tears you had to blink away.
This isn’t right, you thought, none of this is right.
***
One day before graduation …
Tears streamed down your face as another sob shook your body. You stared at the letter in your hand, reading it over and over again. At this point, you had memorized every word but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop.
Dear Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,
When an owl brought you the letter, you didn’t open it immediately. You didn’t want to do it in front of your friends, already sensing what was written inside of it. So instead you grabbed it and went to the bleachers of the Quidditch field. High up above, where no one would interrupt you.
We regret to inform you …
It wasn’t entirely unsuspected but it didn’t hinder the tears from dwelling up. Before you knew it, they streamed down your face. Cold fear gripped your heart. This is it, you thought, it’s all over now. Your entirely life you wanted to become an auror. You had no plan b, no other option, it had always been this. And now you failed.
“Y/N?” The voice caused you to whirl around. “What happened?” Draco. His eyes widened in shock and concern when he saw your face. With three long strides he crossed the distance between the two of you.
“Draco …”, you whimpered and then he was there, pulling you into a tight hug.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered and held you tighter. Instinctively, you relaxed against his body and let him embrace you. It felt so right. “Shh, it’s fine, it’s all going to be fine.” He repeated over and over. Sobs shook your body while your tears drenched his uniform. It felt as if hours had passed until you finally began to calm down. With each shaking breath, the scent of his cologne wrapped itself around you.
“What happened?”, Draco asked again when no more sobs escaped you and you quietly buried your face in his shoulders. Without a word, you held up the letter. A few seconds passed and Draco snorted. “Well, their loss,” he said, audibly disgusted.
You whimpered another time. “It’s all my fault. I should’ve done more, I-I …” You wiped over your eyes. “What do I do now, Draco?”
He sighed before he answered: “Anything you want. Y/N, you’re intelligent, clever, witty, beautiful – you can do anything you want.”
“Except for becoming an auror,” you scoffed.
“Maybe. So what?” He shrugged. “Fuck them. It’s their loss.”
You remained silent. Draco had his arms still wrapped around you. In this position, you almost forgot your situation. This felt so … normal. So right, so natural. As if it was meant to be. As if he was the one to hold you in this exact moment. You thought about asking why he was up here on this night but held your tongue. A part of you wanted to believe that it was because of you. Everything started up here on the bleachers, last year in September. Right here, the two of you talked for the first time in years. A conversation, you could recall to this day. Everything began here. Maybe he came back because he hoped to find you here. You wanted to believe that.
“It’s all I ever wanted to do,” you whispered after a moment. “I don’t have a plan b. I –” Another tear rolled down your cheek. He looked at you, his grey eyes full of love and adoration, and wiped it away.
“You’re hurting, I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s going to be alright though, I promise.”
You smiled sadly. “Everything goes to shit in my life, everything! The fucking war is over and yet I can’t seem to catch a fucking breath.”
“I believe, the war will stay with us for a lot longer than we thought,” Draco whispered. He didn’t let go of you as he watched the castle in the distance. The sun begun to set and drowned the Scottish landscape in its golden light. It was a marvelous sight.
Sudden music caused you to flinch. A group of seventh year students had arrived on the Quidditch field. Loud voices and laughter mixed with the rhythm of a new popular song. They weren’t from your house, you realized.
“I should leave,” Draco said. And when you recognized Astoria’s high-pitched scream as a drunken Blaise picked her up, you knew why he was here to begin with. Not for you. For them.
“Yes, right, I’m sorry.” You cleared your throat and sat up straight. Draco let go of you reluctantly before he got up. He looked at you and you wondered if he was going to say something. But even if he wanted to, he didn’t. He only nodded and then made his way towards the stairs.
“I feel as if I should congratulate you on the engagement but …”, you suddenly spoke up.
Draco stopped and glanced at you. “Don’t.”
You saw how a shadow flickered over his face. Then you remembered something else. “Wait, I have something for you.” You reached inside your back and pulled out a picture. He looked at you in surprise when he gave it to you. It was a picture of you two from the last Christmas, taken during a dinner. Draco had his arm wrapped around you and raised a glass of wine, an amused smirk on his face. You laughed in it, covering your mouth with your hand. It was the only picture of the two of you but you loved it. It showed Draco the way he truly was. The way he made you feel every time you looked at him.
“You carried it with you this whole time?”, he asked softly. He held the picture so carefully as if he was afraid to accidentally damage it.
You gave a half shrug. “Only for the last few days. I hoped to catch you alone at some point.”
“Thank you.”
“Will I see you?”
He looked up at the question.
“After graduation, I mean?”, you clarified. “Maybe send me an owl once or twice a year? I need to know you’re okay.”
“So you can rip out my heart again, little Gryffindor?”
You opened and closed your mouth at the statement. Draco chuckled. “I’ll do it. If you promise me to reply.”
“I promise.”
You didn’t know it yet but Draco would keep his promise. However, when you received his first letter, you broke yours.
***
A few weeks after graduation …
The last day of school came and went. Funny how you had expected it to be filled with tears and laughter when, in the end, it was just another insignificant day of the year. To be fair, some tears had been shed. Long hugs with your friends and promises to stay in touch were shared on the train station in King’s Cross before all of you parted ways.
Your parents picked you up. They looked like mere shells of themselves as they kissed you on the cheek. A lump formed in your throat when you saw their sad faces. They had aged immensely in these past few months, the stress had left deep wrinkles and tired eyes behind.
They didn’t speak much on this day. They only hugged you when you told them about the rejection from the Ministry. “I’m so sorry, darling,” your father had mumbled, “you’ll find something else, I’m sure.” A part of you was relieved they didn’t ask any further questions.
The next morning, your mother had asked you if you wanted to see Alissa. You didn’t. You couldn’t. The mere mention of her name made you grit your teeth. Alissa was the reason for all the suffering in your family’s life. For all the heartbreak and tears. All the sisterly feelings had shrunken during the past year. Now you were left with rage and hatred when you heard her name.
“Will you please come to the court hearing in two weeks then?”, your mother had asked when she noticed the expression on your face and you had agreed.
And here you were. Standing in your kitchen, a cup of freshly brewed tea in your hand while you listened to your parents screaming at each other upstairs. You had just come home from the hearing and now looked outside into the garden. The roses, once your mother’s pride and joy, were neglected, you noticed. Their heads hung, most of them dried up from the summer sun.
“Twenty-five years in Azkaban,” you mumbled to yourself. Alissa’s future. Twenty-five years locked away on an island. You had hoped the sentence would give you satisfaction. It didn’t. Instead it frightened you. Would Alissa survive this? Twenty-five years without seeing her family? Would your mother survive it? Or would she wither like the roses in her garden?
You took a sip of your tea and wondered how your life changed once again, now that the problem of Alissa was finally … resolved. It ended. The anxious waiting, the not knowing … it all ended. By now, she would have already arrived in the prison cell that would be her home for the years to come.
You hadn’t spoken to her. You had watched her in the courtroom while she didn’t look up at your family. During the whole hearing, her eyes were locked on the ground and she remained silent. It was the strangest sight – the broken-down woman in the dirty dress wasn’t your sister. The fiery spirit inside her had left a long time ago together with her beauty and wits. You stared at Alissa, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the sister you once knew and loved. You were unsuccessful. This woman was a stranger and your sister was dead. And you wanted nothing more than to simply move on.
“The nerve this family has,” your father muttered behind you. “Unbelievable.”
You sat the tea cup down on the counter and turned to him. The screaming had stopped, you realized. You had been so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed how your father came downstairs again.
“What are you talking about?”, you asked.
Your father shook his head and handed you an envelope without another word. Your gaze fell onto the dark green emblem printed on the back and suddenly, your throat felt very, very dry. You’d recognize the sign anywhere. With shaking hands you opened the envelope and pulled out a card.
“Can you believe it?”, your father asked. “They actually have the nerve to invite us to his wedding?”
***
A/N: I hope you liked it! Feedback is always appreciated! We’re almost finished with this story, I’m so sad btw.
CHAPTER 25
CMI Masterlist
HP Masterlist
The tag list for this story is closed! <3
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#draco malfoy x reader#draco malfoy x you#draco malfoy x y/n#draco malfoy imagines#draco malfoy fanfiction#harry potter imagines#draco#malfoy#draco malfoy#choose me instead#astrids fics
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Kakashi Hatake | Just Friends
Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x F!Reader
Prompt: "We aren't friends and you fucking know it"
Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending!), alcohol consumption
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: Am I ever going to write a full fic that isn't about Kakashi? Who knows?
*reposting because I accidentally deleted the original post!
Kakashi, being one of your oldest friends, could always tell when something was off with you. The way you kept him at a distance was something he hadn't experienced often, only when he unintentionally did something to upset you. Walking to the training grounds, he couldn't help himself from thinking back to the other night. He couldn't remember much, having one too many drinks with Asuma; you and Kurenai watching along.
"Kakashi Sensei! You're late for training again!"
"Sorry, we'll be working on target practice for now."
Surprised by their sensei's lack of reasoning for being late, the kids just looked at each other in confusion. Kakashi just rested against a tree, too lost in thought to answer their questions.
-
As you returned from work later on in the late afternoon, you were surprised to see Kakashi out your apartment. The orange book shut and was put away as soon as he saw you coming closer. For the first time since you met him, you didn't want to be in his presence.
"Why are you here, Kakashi?" You barely looked up at him as you got the door open.
"One of my closest friends seems to suddenly want nothing to do with me. I'm supposed to just let her go? Did I do something to make you upset with me?"
And there is was, that one word that made your heart cave in your chest. 'Friends.' The feelings you had for the Copy Ninja was not how a friend should feel towards another.
"[Y/N]?"
A tear threatened to spill, eyes staring at the sky as you tried to control yourself. Your voice wavered as you spoke, and Kakashi hated himself more knowing you were upset over him.
"We're not friends, Kakashi."
"What?"
Sniffling, you raised your voice slightly, "You heard me. We aren't friends and you fucking know it."
Kakashi winced as the door slammed shut, staring at the wood for way too long. Something he hated even more was the sobs he could hear behind it. His hands shook as he reached to knock, but pulled away the last second. You both needed some space, and with that, he left.
-
The next few days were hell for Kakashi. Whether he was at home or on the training grounds with his students, his thoughts always traveled back to you. He missed the way you made him laugh, and the way you'd be so intrigued by the things he had to say - even if it was something casual. Or the smiles you'd give him when he was stressed, the reassuring words that everything would be okay.
But what Kakashi missed most was having you by his side.
Icha Icha didn't even seem to be enjoyable with the mood he was in. He couldn't lose someone else he cares for. If he felt miserable not talking to you for some days, he couldn't imagine how he'd feel if you walked out of his life forever.
-
The loud knock on your door startled you as you looked up from your book. Placing the bookmark between the pages, you shut the book and placed it on the table before getting up. You were surprised to see Kakashi on the other side, which you probably shouldn't have been. No one else would've knocked on your door this late at night.
"Kakashi, what- Why are you here?"
"Grab your shoes and come on, its a nice night out for a walk."
"Actually I was about to head to bed so-"
Kakashi placed a hand on your arm, "Please?"
You sighed, hating that you were unable to say no to him, "Yeah, okay. Let's go."
Silence overtook the both of you, tension building with each passing second. Kakashi's hand stayed on the back of his neck, nerves getting the better of him. You were sure you would end up walking around the entire village if you didn't speak up first, so you did exactly that.
"I'm sorry for snapping at you the other day."
"Oh, don't apologize for that. I just wish you'd talk to me instead of slamming the door in my face. I know I can be a dick sometimes but I never meant to hurt you."
You nodded, arms crossed over your chest as you tried to find the right words to say, "Things happen, Kakashi."
Kakashi hated that you hid away from him. He stopped walking, turning you to face him. His hands fell to his sides, seeing the sadness written across your features.
"That thing you said the other day, about us not being friends? You're right. Friends don't act like we do, and I'm sorry it took so long for me to come to terms with it. It's just," he sighed, "I've lost so many people. I didn't want the same thing to happen to you. The last couple of days without speaking to you fucking sucked. I don't want a lifetime of that."
You nodded, "I know, being away from you hurt like hell, but the thought of you hating me hurt worse."
Kakashi shook his head, "I could never hate you, [Y/N]. How I feel - hell, I couldn't put it into words if I tried."
You smirked, "You could try."
Kakashi just laughed, pulling you into him, "Actions speak louder then words, sweetheart."
He pulled down his mask, lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss. The shock of Kakashi finally kissing left you quickly, your hands pressed against his chest as your lips moved against his own. All the pent up tension finally left the two of you. You both only coming apart when air was needed.
"So," Kakashi softly spoke when he caught his breath, "what happens next? Are we dating now?"
Your hand gently caressed his cheek, burning the image of his mask-less face into your memory, "We can figure that all out later. Right now, I just want you to kiss me again."
Kakashi smiled, making you swoon, "I can definitely do that."
Kakashi pulled you in for another knee-buckling kiss, the rising sun's rays illuminating your features. At the moment, that didn't matter. All that mattered in that moment was the two of you, finally together.
#kakashi hatake#kakashi hatake x reader#kakashi hatake imagine#kakashi x reader#kakashi#naruto#naruto x reader#naruto imagine
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320 bits I wanna talk about
Iieda looks like he’s doing the *inhale* before the BOI IF YOU DON’T- meme. Something along the lines of “BOI IF YOU DON’T GET YOUR ASS BACK TO UA-” kind of thing lol.
He holding something in definitely. Maybe charging up for an attack? Idk but he sure seems concentrated
Actually, Iieda seems kinda considering. Maybe he’s weighing up if he should join in the fight, as if he’s asking “Will I have to fight Midoriya, if it comes down to it? Or can the others handle this?” Something tells me he doesn’t want to have to weigh in on the fight. Maybe tear into Izuku verbally, but fight? No I don’t think he wants to do that
But also, I find it interesting that that black panel of text is under him and then it cuts to Bakugou yelling at Izuku. I mean, it could very well be Bakugou thinking that, but if that’s so, then why is Iieda the first person we see?
So, I think it’s Iieda thinking that. Tensions are rising, it seems. I’m expecting his turn to be full of a lot of emotion, or at least trying to get across to Izuku that he feels betrayed but mostly just wants Izuku to come back home.
I don’t really know what’ll happen with Iieda exactly, but I’m totally interested to see what happens
I know Bakugou has problems with his emotions and words and stuff, but I also think here he’s trying to anger Izuku in order to get him to fight back, maybe so he’s more angry than flexible in a fight, so the end result would be Izuku getting too angry to predict anything and eventually tripping up, and that’s when 1A could capture him.
The one thing to remember about Izuku is that allowing him to think is going to be the opponent’s downfall. We saw in the Kacchan VS Deku 2 fight that Bakugou knew this and so kept attacking as much as possible so Izuku wouldn’t have time to think. Which worked, because Izuku is great at analysis, so making his “Win” attitude [getting competitive therefore putting more energy into attacking than strategy] come out over his “Save” attitude [you’re my friend and I want to help you] is kind of a weakness of his. That’s kind of one of the reasons he lost that fight.
Then again, maybe Izuku has improved since then? I don’t really know but I think enough time has passed for him to have maybe improved more on that so idk we’ll see
I really love Bakugou’s expression in that bottom screencap lol
His wound!! All bandaged up!! I wonder if there’s a scar there or smthg :O
LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
I know Enji or Bakugou probably gave them details about the multiple quirks but I still find it wild that everyone just knows now
KOUDA! MY SWEETHEART! I’m glad he’s getting a part in this too, along with Sero. Two of them who didn’t really hang around Izuku but still want him to come back :’)
Sero and Black Whip! Finally! I mean it’s not much but it’s still better than nothing
Also, seems like Sero is trying to taunt Izuku to get him to attack him maybe [same as Bakugou feeding into Izuku’s competitive side] soooo idk Sero following Bakugou’s lead? Maybe :)
Look at how,,,, innocent Izuku looks,,,,, *head in hands* AND SERO TEACHING HIM!!
I knew this lil moment would come bite me in the ass at some point, I knew and yet I’m still tearing up goddamn
That “I thought she was going to tell me its a useless hobby” bit really drives home how Izuku’s friends are 1A, that he loves them and they were the only friends he’s ever had [except Bakugou but he was a bully at the time so I’m not really gonna count him for back then]. HOW many people before UA had gone around and told Izuku his taking notes hobby was useless? SHOW me the people!
I, mettywiththenotes, will NOT allow anybody to slander one of my own!
I know it’s like the only moment Izuku and Ojiro shared, with the sports festival thing, but it’s still really sweet that Ojiro sees that Izuku stood up for him
*head in hands*
Shouldn’t this kid be more worried that he’s likely going to get kidnapped?
“Yeah this super evil villain guy has decided he wants to kidnap me and take me away, but like nbd guys really, that’s why I left in the first place! So I wouldn’t be a burden!” Somebody get this kid a fucking therapist or some shit
This is kind of a chilling and pretty scene though. The rain falling above Izuku and him looking down with these piercing green eyes likely being the only light between them. Good stuff.
Satou! Aha I like how he’s pulling all the stops, such as “I WON’T LET YOU BORROW MY INGREDIENTS FOR ERI!”
Also let’s appreciate that Satou caught Ojiro and Jirou and managed to land on a freaking traffic light. The balance on this kid! Very well done
Kaminari putting Izuku in a headlock! How cute :)
Be cuter if they weren’t trying to subdue a martyr-complex cryptid from killing himself, but still
Does Shouji have some kind of support-item?? Or could he always do the stretchy thing?? Or I guess maybe he’s just stretching his arms out like branches [like he usually does] and using them as more like a capture weapon rather than his usual stuff. I don’t think we’ve ever seen him use his heteromorph body and quirk for anything other than the 5 senses, though I could be wrong
Also Shouji remembering what Izuku said at the training camp, I’m so glad! Shouji always seems like the kind to be so protective over his friends, so I’m glad he remembered that. Then again, Izuku did compare them to freaking ALL MIGHT, but if the nice analytical kid in your class who knows your limits and strengths says you could basically beat A GOD, then that’s definitely one for the memory scrapbook lmao
“It’s nice and dark here, Dark Shadow.” Who said that?? Kami or Izuku?? I just have this mental image of Izuku being shrouded in darkness and trying to keep his eyes open from falling asleep haha
Tokoyami remembering that from all the way back then!! It makes me think that not only have Bakugou and Izuku been watching each other, but that Izuku has always had everybody’s eyes on him! Which is true, he’s inspired everyone! It goes both ways; Izuku loving his friends, and them loving him back :’)
Kami telling him to take a bath lmao I love it. Finally somebody said it
*ugly sobbing noises*
This kind of segment, with a mask falling, a space in-between and a reveal, reminds me of Compress’ reveal :) In that, the person is hiding their identity and then when the mask comes off, they reveal who they truly are underneath
While Izuku is of course determined to go after AFO and is quite the fearsome powerhouse, I really think when he takes off that mask, he’s showing who he really is underneath - a scared little boy who just wants everyone to be happy
JESUS, SHOUTO REALLY IMPROVED HIS QUIRK HUH!! LOOK AT IT, IT’S EVEN HIGHER THAN THE SKYSCRAPERS!!
“The burden placed on you... it doesn’t allow for tears, right?” He sounds so sassy here.
Kind of like saying “Oh you look upset. But that’s weird, I thought Heroes weren’t supposed to cry.” Lol it really shows here how pissed Shouto is at Izuku
But then he relents from that snark and is like “Hey, come on, we’ll share this burden. I’m not letting you go it alone, remember that we’re all here.” :’)
I love when Shouto is sassy and passive aggressive but I also love it when he shows that soft side of him
Okay, this is something I really love.
Tsuyu didn’t join the Bakugou Rescue Squad because “they would be just like Villains breaking the rules”
But here she is, learning from that regret of hers and coming right back to make sure Izuku isn’t the one struggling. She wants to be a part of this rescue squad and pick up where she left off :)
Tsuyu has always struggled with her regrets. It was shown after Kamino when she cried, but for me, I only realised this fully during the Joint Arc when she had her regrets about not making better decisions and not being quick enough [I think that was it].
“I won’t cry in such a flurry” reminds me of “I want to live a life without regret” and so that’s what she’s saying here. This won’t be another regret of hers. She wants to do her best to save her friend
“When scared, you’re allowed to tremble when it’s tough, you’re allowed to shed tears. That’s how you become a Hero like in the comics.”
I feel like that quote piggybacks off of Shouto’s “Heroes cry too”, in that, this is now 1A comforting Izuku. This is them fully coming up to him and telling him that they can help, and that he’s allowed to feel sad about his situation. Shouto’s quote was the teaser, while this entire chapter [and the rest that come to follow] is the main course.
And this is exactly who Tsuyu is. Reassuring, comforting, someone dependable. It says a lot that she’s come from not going to help in Kamino, confessing her feelings and crying about it, then coming back in a similar situation and offering her help - that she’s not willing to just let an opportunity go to better herself. I think I remember reading a few posts on her crying after Kamino and saying it was “performative” or that she just “wanted attention” or smthg like that, but I think she’s really just quite an honest person, and here she is making a great show of how she won’t let something like her guilt slow her down from being the hero she wants to be.
[A part of me feels like this is also a little more evidence with the whole People Not Caring About Bakugou’s Feelings Of Helplessness but like. I digress. It kinda counts but at the same time, it’s not what is going on at the moment.]
Seeing everyone try to reassure Izuku was lovely, and I can’t wait for the rest. I’ve seen a lot of people waiting more for Bakugou’s portion of the battle [AND YEAH DUDE ME TOO] but I really feel like Bakugou’s won’t come until like 2 chapters later or something.
Cause, if this chapter is anything to go by, we’ll probably get through Mina, Mineta, Kirishima, Hagakure and Aoyama next chapter, and then we’ll move onto the “more important” conflicts which will be Iieda and Uraraka, and if their segments are chocked with tension drama and tears, then Bakugou will have a whole chapter to himself hopefully.
Which means we’ll probably have to wait 2 more chapters until we get that sweet, sweet Bakugou chapter :( I hope I’m wrong and it comes sooner than predicted but whatever
I know for some people, that’s all they want, but personally I love these little bits that reflect on the background characters. As someone who isn’t really obsessed with the background characters but also likes them enough to appreciate their development/the little moments they have, I gotta say I really liked this :)
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The End - Ch. 1
Happy Holiday Truce, @mystyrust! Sorry to make you wait - I wanted to do something big, but I forgot to take into account two things: I am a slow writer, and this story became too big to handle as a oneshot. I do have big ideas for where I want this story to go, but we'll see how the story builds itself as I write! Happy Holidays!
If elements of this story seem familiar, that’s because they are! This is based on @lexosaurus‘s tags on @dannys-phucking-dead‘s post! I hope you enjoy!
ffn | ao3
>1< 2 3 4 ...
"Listen. I've met a lot of great asteroids. Really fantastic asteroids. And they've all told me themselves — they said that I was a great president. All of them said that — all one hundred thousand asteroids. I was there."
The camera switches to Tiffany Snow, sitting at the anchor desk.
"This is what President Drumpf had to say yesterday regarding NASA's claims that an unforeseen asteroid is approximately 21 days from hitting the Earth, creating an extinction-level event on par with what took out the dinosaurs," Snow states with a cheerful smile. "Polls suggest that approximately 48.2% of the population believe NASA's claims to be a hoax; 29.5% believe it's the end of the world; and 22.3% is undecided. Lance, can you tell us a bit about Amity Park's response to NASA's claims?"
The camera switches to a street view outside of Amity Park's capitol building. People crowd the streets, many of them yelling and holding signs. Some signs read "THE END IS NIGH". Others say "ASTEROID SHMASTEROID". A few say "DEFUND NASA". One sign says "[citation needed]".
"Certainly, Tiffany," Lance Thunder replies, nearly shouting over the crowd. "As you can see here, tensions are high in Amity Park. Citizens gather to make their voices heard amidst NASA's claims of doom and gloom. Hey, Bob, what do you think of NASA's statement?"
Thunder turns to a middle aged man beside him wearing a bright red cap. The man bends to put his face by the microphone Thunder is brandishing.
"It's fake news, is what it is! I mean, come on! How does a freaking asteroid come out of nowhere? It's a China conspiracy, I tell you!"
Bob nods, and Thunder takes back the microphone. "Well, you heard it here, folks. Amity Park's citizens think NASA's claims are a ho—"
"THE END IS NIGH!"
A woman wearing a sign with the same message butts in, snatching the microphone from Thunder.
"The Disasteroid cometh for us all! Soon it will be Judgement Day and all of you Non Believers will be found Wanting!"
Thunder squawks. "Hey! That is APN property! Give that back!"
The camera turns to focus on Thunder and the woman as they fight over the microphone, their squabbling barely audible over the feedback. Then the feed cuts back to Tiffany Snow.
"Wow Lance, looks like no one can break Amity Park's spirit," Snow says with a grin. "In other news, Congress has voted to defund NASA—"
The TV clicks off.
Danny carefully puts down the remote before he allows himself to shake. His fists clench, and he hides them under folded arms, lest they be seen bursting into ectoplasmic flame. His face feels taut, teeth clenched, eyes abnormally dry. Toxic green edges his vision, and he clamps his eyes shut, lest they be seen glowing green with his anger.
And oh, he is angry.
NASA is a world leader in space aviation and exploration, and Congress is defunding them. And for what? Because they told the truth? Because there's a humongous asteroid about to hit the Earth? They should be funneling emergency money towards NASA, not taking money away! The world needs NASA, now more than ever! Danny has seen the images NASA shared — the images the media doesn't dare share, lest the wrath of one President Drumpf befall them. He doesn't know how everyone missed it — it's huge and it's glowing green and no stars glow green like that — but now that everyone knows about it, there should be some sort of plan to stop it, right? Wrong! The president says it's fake news, and Congress follows suit, and the biggest space programs in the world can't agree on what to do about it when half the world doesn't even think it's real and oh god we're gonna die like actually 100% die and it's not ghosts it's not Pariah Dark it's a big fucking SPACE ROCK that's going to do us in for good and there'll be no more habitable Earth and no more Ghost Zone and we're all going to DIE—
A hand touches Danny's knee, and he gasps, eyes flying open, cringing away from the contact.
Through the green haze in his vision he sees bright orange and immediately shuts his eyes again. They can't see, can't see him freak out, can't see his powers freak out with him—
The hand touches his knee again, and he freezes at the touch, body tense, teeth clenched, eyes shut tight. Another hand touches his arm and he takes in a breath, shuddering as the hand slowly moves to his shoulder, and then to his back, rubbing large, soothing circles. Danny tries to time his breathing to the circles, like Jazz had taught him to, and slowly the blood rushing in his ears (when had that happened?) quiets to a dull roar.
"There we go Danny, see, just breathe. You're okay. You're at home, and Mom and Dad are out, and you don't have to hide."
Danny uncurls slightly at the sound of his sister's voice. He opens his eyes a crack — just enough to see past the green haze — and really looks this time. The orange isn't the same shade as his dad's jumpsuit — it's a lighter, more natural color, and it surrounds a face with concerned, green eyes. Jazz. Jazz is here, and she has her hand on his knee, and she's rubbing circles into his back, and he's kind of sort of getting the hang of breathing with the rhythm of those circles. He leans into her, and she bundles him into a hug, still rubbing circles into his back.
The front door opens, and Danny and Jazz both freeze. Jazz said Mom and Dad are out, but what if they're back? They can't see him like this, they'll find out!
Danny has half a mind to just turn invisible when their voices hit his ears.
"Man, dude, did you see what Congress did to NASA? That's so unfair!"
"It's totally unfair! They're just telling the truth! This whole administration is the absolute worst!"
Tucker. Sam. Danny relaxes slightly at their voices, but he doesn't turn around — doesn't want them to see him like this, either.
But it's too late.
"Woah, dude, you okay?"
"Danny!"
He hears them rush over to him — feels their worry and the warmth of their bodies as they get close — and tenses up again. He should be better than this, stronger than this! He shouldn't be freaking out about some dumb news report.
Not just a dumb news report, his brain helpfully supplies. We're all going to die. And there's nothing you can do about it.
All of a sudden, Jazz's embrace feels too tight. To constraining. Trapping him where he is.
He slips intangible and flees from Jazz, flees from his friends — flees upwards, up through the ceiling and through the roof and through the Ops Center, flees until there's no more house to flee from. He lands hard on the roof of the Ops Center, scraping his knees but it doesn't matter, hands scorching the metal but who cares, it's just the end of the world—
He pulls his knees to his chest and buries his head in them, his face screwing as he tries to get a hold of himself, tries to rein himself in, it's just the end of the world, just the end of Mom and Dad and Jazz and Sam and Tucker and school and movies and parks and people and everything and everyone he'd ever tried to protect—
"Bite this."
Danny feels something cool touch his lips, and he bites down — then coughs and spits as bitter rind and sour citrus burst in his mouth.
He looks up to see Tucker triumphantly brandishing a whole lemon with a chunk bitten out of it. Sam and Jazz stand to either side of him, varying levels of worry and amusement fighting for dominance in their faces. Danny spits again, and stares at the bits of rind and lemon pulp that vacate his mouth.
"What the hell?"
"Told you it'd work!" Tucker crows.
"A lemon?" Danny splutters.
"It's an... unorthodox grounding technique," Jazz responds, "and it normally isn't administered like that—"
"Point is, it works," Sam interjects. "How're you feeling?"
Danny stares at the three of them for a moment. Then he sighs and chuckles darkly. "The worlds going to end because too many people don't believe NASA about an asteroid hurtling towards Earth, and Tucker made me bite into a lemon. How am I supposed to feel?"
He sighs again, long, hard, and shuddering, and he lets himself fall backwards onto the warm metal of the Ops Center roof. Jazz lies down across from him, and Sam and Tucker lie to either side of him, all their heads nearly touching. The sky above them is bright blue, clear of clouds. Birds flit across Danny's vision, twittering as they chase each other before flying off to who knows where. Does it even matter? They'll all be dead in a few weeks.
"I don't want to die again."
The words slip from his mouth, and he feels his breath hitch, watches as his vision goes blurry. His hands begin to clench into fists — but then Sam and Tucker take his hands, massaging the tension from his fingers and palms, and Jazz runs her hand through his hair like she used to do when they were kids and he'd had a nightmare, and something in him breaks.
A sob wrenches itself from his throat, and he curls in on himself. His sister and friends move to hold him close, and he can't help but lean into their touch. They hold him as his eyes glow green, as his hands fist into the metal of the roof, as his sobs take on a ghostly tinge, nearly wailing his grief and his anger and his fear into the sky. He shudders as he cries, and feels as they shudder with him — feels as Sam and Tucker push their faces into his shirt, and as Jazz buries her face in his hair — feels as his shirt and his head where their faces lie become damp.
Crying. They're crying.
And it's his fault.
A wave of guilt washes over him, and he wants to pull away again, wants to force himself to stop crying, to be strong for them. But their grips on him tighten, and they speak to him, words warped by their own tears. "Just let it out," Tucker mutters into his back. "It's okay to cry," Sam whispers into his shoulder. "You don't have to hide," Jazz repeats into his hair.
But beneath their words, beneath their tight hold on him and the way they push their faces against him is a hidden plea: "Stay," they say.
Please stay.
So Danny stays.
Danny stays, and they cry together, and the sun shines down upon them from the clear blue sky.
*~*~*
Danny doesn't know how long it's been. Only that he's no longer crying, and that his friends and sister are no longer crying. They've melted into a cuddle pile of four, with Danny at the center, and the sun beats down on them from a different angle than before. Danny has wound up with his head in Jazz's lap, and she's playing with his hair. Sam and Tucker are on top of him, still holding his hands. Their weight is comforting.
Danny is exhausted. He just wants to fall asleep and deal with everything later. Crying in front of your friends and sister will do that, his brain helpfully supplies. So will the end of the world.
He sighs heavily and moves to sit up. Sam and Tucker get off him, still holding his hands, and Jazz helps him up, moving from playing with his hair to rubbing circles on his back. He smiles faintly at all of them.
"Thanks, guys," he whispers hoarsely. He really does have the best friends and best sister in the world.
Too bad they're all going to die in three weeks.
He frowns and sighs again, too tired to cry.
"It's heavy stuff, huh," Jazz says gently. Danny looks back at her, an eyebrow raised. She continues. "The thought of everything ending like that — it's really hard to think about. Hell, I'm having trouble processing it." She smiles gently at him. "It's okay to be scared and angry, and it's okay to be scared and angry in front of us. You don't have to hide."
"Okay, okay, I get it," Danny mutters. "No more running away."
"Good," Sam remarks. "Now, what are we going to do about everything?"
"What do you mean?" Danny asks.
"You know. The asteroid?" Sam raises an eyebrow.
"Oh yeah. That." Danny frowns down at the roof of the Ops Center. The metal is warped and singed where his hands had dug into it. "What are we supposed to do about that?" He looks back up at Sam. Her eyes bear into his, and her grip on his hand tightens.
"Look, I know this is hard for you. It's hard for me, too. But we can't just sit here and do nothing."
Danny frowns at her. He opens his mouth to respond, but Tucker gets there first.
"Look, I know we need to have this conversation, I really do. But can we have it inside? The metal's starting to get really hot." Tucker stands up, rubbing his free hand on his jeans from touching the roof.
Danny sighs and stands up, stretching the kinks from his back. Sam and Jazz stand up with him.
"On it," Danny says. "Everyone hold tight."
He feels Sam's and Tucker's grips tighten on his hands, and he feels Jazz grab his shoulder. With a poke at his core, he tugs them all intangible, slipping through the roof to the refreshingly cool interior of the Ops Center. He lets go of intangibility and lets gravity embrace them slowly, gently depositing them all on the floor of the Ops Center. Then he lets go of his friends' hands and steps forwards, turning so he's facing the three of them.
"So, what are we supposed to do, huh? Half the world thinks the asteroid's a hoax, and the other half either doesn't have the money to do anything, or is stuck in petty arguments about what to do and who's to blame and all that shit." Danny crosses his arms and frowns.
"Dude, you're the Ghost King," Tucker's quick to reply. "Doesn't that mean you can, like, do anything?"
Danny facepalms. "Oh my god, Tucker, I'm not the Ghost King. I told the Observants I don't want any part of it. And besides, even if I were, who's going to listen to me? Klemper? The Box Ghost? I'm sure they can convince the world to get its shit together!"
"Hey!" Sam interjects. "You can't just focus on what we can't do. We need to focus on what we can do, as a team."
"Oh, and what can we do, Sam? We're way out of our depth here! The four of us can't stop the asteroid from hitting Earth!"
"You're right, Danny," Jazz says. Sam and Tucker gape at her.
"But dude—"
"You can't just—"
"Hey, let me speak!" Jazz waits until Sam and Tucker close their mouths — Tucker with a perplexed look on his face, Sam with an expectant frown.
"We are out of our depth," Jazz states. "We don't have the resources or political pull here on Earth or in the Ghost Zone to make a significant difference." She pauses. "But we know someone who does."
It takes a moment, but Sam gets it first.
"Oh, ew, we are not asking him for help!"
"Wait." Tucker says. "Asking who for—" horror dawns on his face. "Oh, no. No no no. We can't! Why would you even think of that?"
"Think of what?" Danny asks, a little annoyed that he doesn't get it.
"Asking Vlad," Sam, Tucker, and Jazz reply.
"Oh, ew!" Danny says automatically.
Jazz rolls her eyes. "It's not like I want to talk to him either! I just think given the circumstances, we don't have much choice."
"There's always a choice, Jazz," Sam retorts. "He'll probably try and force Danny to stay with him in exchange for his help."
"Yeah, Jazz," Tucker adds. "He's a slimeball. Who knows how he'll try to play this to his advantage."
"But—"
"I think Jazz is right," Danny says.
Sam, Tucker, and Jazz stare at Danny, flabbergasted. Danny blushes.
"Well, it's like Jazz said — I don't want to, but I don't think we have a choice. We need his help. And besides," he says with a smirk, "the man is way too narcissistic. He doesn't want to die because half the world doesn't believe what's right in front of their faces."
"And we can use that to our advantage," Jazz adds. "He knows he'll need help with whatever scheme he's plotting, and there isn't enough time for him to be picky."
"So, what? We go to him for help, and threaten to walk if he tries to pull anything?" Sam raises an eyebrow.
"Exactly." Jazz and Danny grin at each other.
Tucker sighs and pulls out his PDA. "Alright, fine. One meeting with one seriously messed up frootloop coming right up."
Danny stares. "Dude, what are you doing?"
Tucker looks up. "Um, scheduling a meeting with our evil mayor?"
Sam shakes her head. "He's probably booked. We'll have better luck if we just show up."
Jazz nods. "He's probably expecting us anyways."
Tucker sighs and puts away his PDA. "Alright, fine. But can we take a moment to clean up? I don't know about you guys, but my face is crusty."
Danny looks at his friends and sister. Their hair is a mess, and their eyes are still rimmed red. Sam's mascara has dried after running down her face, and Tucker's glasses and Jazz's headband are askew. Danny figures he doesn't look much better.
He nods. "Alright. But after that, we have a meeting with one seriously messed up frootloop!"
#danny phantom#holiday truce 2020#christmas truce 2020#phantom planet#danny fenton#jazz fenton#tucker foley#sam manson#rewrite#dp fanfic#dp fic#mystyrust#lexosaurus#dannys phucking dead#danny#jazz#tucker#sam#i'm sorry this is so late!#but i hope you like this!#i have Ideas for this story#and i'm excited to get to them!#but the kids needed to let their emotions loose first#my work#my write#not a q
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kingdom of welcome addiction | four
view pinned post for masterlist / links to the rest of the parts!
Genre: smut (with plot), this part is just suggestive, mostly plot
Pairing: demon!san x fem!reader / ???yunho x fem!reader
Word Count: 3.7k
Warnings: a bit of blood drinking, not much else in this part tbh
Synopsis: A new boy from your class steals your attention, but something about it seems too good to be true.
A/N: The plot thickens! I know most of you are here for the smut but this chapter is very important for later parts! Thank you for reading and comments are super appreciated as always! <3
The familiar alleyway. Why did you come back here? It went on endlessly, you couldn’t see the street from either side. You were running, but you weren’t sure why. Was someone chasing you?
A glimmer of crimson caught your eye from the shadow, a familiar flash of fangs sparkling in the thinly veiled moonlight. A bloodthirsty snarl painted his face. The demon from before? He stepped into the light, and his piercings glimmered in the flickering glow of the rusty street light. You swiveled to run, but the brick wall stopped your path. That wasn’t there before...
You turned to meet his eyes, hungry with bloodlust, like a lion stalking its prey. He had you cornered. His proverbial lamb.
San.
He lurched forward, his speed unmatched, pinning you up against the wall with a disturbing thud. You gasped as the wind knocked from your body. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out, not even your breaths. His hands viced around your neck. Why was he doing this? Why? Tears poured from your eyes as he squeezed mercilessly. You couldn’t understand why. You thought he was supposed to protect you.
You heard him speak, but his words didn’t make any sense. His voice was a venomous hiss, poison dripping from his fangs as he trained his eyes over you, to the hands squeezing the life out of you. Why was he hurting you? What did you do wrong?
Your body went cold as you writhed, unable to run, unable to scream, unable to breathe. Piercing black eyes watched you as you sobbed helplessly, searching for any remnant of life left in your lungs, clawing at his hands, silently begging him to stop.
And then black.
The next thing you saw was the dizzyingly bright white of your ceiling. The sheets were drenched under you from sweat, blankets thrown everywhere from tossing and turning in your bed.
Your hand came to your neck, tracing the faint scars from San’s teeth, remembering the grip of his hands around your neck. He could have killed you, back then, if he hadn’t snapped out of it. You would be dead.
You were falling for him. But somewhere inside of you, somewhere deep in your subconscious, he terrified you.
Your next semester had been, so far, incredibly overwhelming—and it was still only the first day. You weren’t used to such a hectic schedule, usually opting to take most of your courses online, but your schedule this time was booked entirely on campus.
Your last class of the day: Advanced Human Religion. Fitting, for your current entanglement with a particular demon. Admittedly, that was the reason you took the class. Maybe it’d give you a better picture of what you were dealing with. But probably not.
You just wanted the day to be over—time felt endless in the constant drawl of class after class, boring lecture after boring lecture.
Until you saw him.
Time seemed to stop as he rounded the corner through the doorway, like a slow-motion movie scene.
He wasn’t your usual type, you were usually exclusively drawn to the “tall, dark and handsome” trope. He ticked only two of those boxes. One, he was incredibly tall. He towered over you, and most of the people in the classroom, a perfectly proportioned giant. Lean, limber, and absolutely stunning. Two, he was unbelievably handsome.
But dark? He was exactly the opposite. He was a glowing ray of light, you imagined if this was a cartoon there would be golden glitter sparkling around him as he walked. His cotton-candy blue hair was styled neatly on his head, tousled gently in a way that looked purposeful. He was effortlessly gorgeous, almost ethereal.
Part of you wanted him to take the empty seat next to you, so badly. The other part wanted him as far away as possible—not only because the butterflies fluttering in your stomach were making you too nervous to breathe, but because he was so pure he could probably detect the sin permeating from your aura. You didn’t deserve to even be in the room with someone so sparkly and bright. You’d been fucking a bloodthirsty demon, after all. And you had the scars to prove it.
He was walking in your direction. Fuck. What do you do? Look at him, look away? Look at your phone? His eyes trained on the seat next to you. As he walked behind you, your heart stopped completely, breath frozen in your chest. Why were you so nervous? Why?
He took a gentle seat next to you as you fumbled uselessly on your phone, trying to pretend you didn’t even notice him.
Your eyes wouldn’t listen. You glanced over at him, and he met your eyes warmly. He flashed you the most heavenly smile you’d ever seen, his eyes forming into soft crescents. He looked like the embodiment of sunshine. “Hi, I’m Yunho.”
You felt yourself shrinking as the heat rose in your cheeks, unable to keep calm as you tried not to stare too obviously at him. “I-I’m Y/N,” you stuttered, shifting in your chair as you tried to stay upright.
Other than his ray-of-sunlight aura, he smelled incredible. Like warm, freshly baked bread wafting in the air on a summer day. He smelled like a nostalgia, like a distant memory you’d forgotten, but desperately wanted to remember.
You didn’t have a chance to make too much conversation with him, as your lecture was about to start any second. You had a hard time focusing for the rest of the class—it seemed like both the longest and shortest hour of your entire life. The tightness in your chest was overwhelming, heart beating ruthlessly fast in your chest. You weren’t sure if he could tell from beside you how much you were struggling to focus, but if he even saw half of the nervousness you felt, he’d probably think you were crazy.
The minute your professor dismissed the class, you practically sprang up out of your seat, too anxious to face him again, but his voice immediately stopped you, deep and smooth, from your side. “See you tomorrow.”
A blush rose to your cheeks. You didn’t even consider that you’d have to go through this again. How were you going to handle these feelings every day? You smiled kindly, concealing your nerves the best you could. “Right, see you tomorrow. It was nice meeting you.”
You beelined your way out the door, practically gasping for air as you made it out of the classroom.
You made your way to the bus stop, putting in your headphones, searching desperately for a song to calm your nerves. Your head was filled with images of him, ethereal and glowing. The first time your mind wasn’t filled with thoughts of San in a while. You didn’t exactly know what it was, but something about Yunho drew you in, had you completely flustered like you’d never experienced. Dare you say, even with San. What was it?
A shadow obstructed your vision for a moment, drawing your gaze up. And farther up. Yunho. He smiled warmly above you, his figure illuminated by light washing up behind him. You tugged out your earbud frantically as he opened his mouth to speak.
“You take the 5 too?” he asked, gesturing to your bus stop. “What a coincidence, huh?”
You thought you’d gotten off easy today. You had no idea what to say, mind fumbling for words as his smile pulled you farther and farther into nervousness. Butterflies enveloped your stomach, creeping up into your chest. You were surprised when you managed to reply semi-coherently. “Long time no see,” you jested lightly, eliciting a cute chuckle from him. “Yeah, I take the 5. I could take the 11, but the 5 comes more often.” God, what were you saying? “Anyway, I meant to ask… are you new here?”
“Yeah, I just transferred here this semester,” he explained. Makes sense why you hadn’t seen him before. You heard the screeching of the bus’ wheels coming to a halt by your side, but you were entirely focused on him. He was so tall you nearly had to tip your head ninety degrees to meet his gaze with him standing in front of you, unlike when he was sitting next to you in class. “I don’t know many people yet.”
You boarded the bus with him, and he took a seat next to you. His heavenly smell was overwhelming, you wanted to bury your head in his fuzzy sweater and never let go. It was a weird thought, but you couldn’t help but think he would give really good hugs. Like a fluffy cloud in the shape of a human. You chatted lightly, mostly about the classes you were taking, your professors. It went all too fast, and when he got off at his stop, you almost wanted to follow him. But that would be really creepy. Despite trying to avoid him before, now that you were talking, you didn’t want to stop.
You didn’t summon San that night.
You wondered if he was watching you flirt with Yunho on the bus. He told you he’d stop watching you when you expressed your displeasure at him being so intrusive, but you wouldn’t call anything about San trustworthy. You almost wondered if he could read your thoughts sometimes. Would he be mad that you had such an undeniable crush on another guy? It’s not like you and San were dating, but you definitely had a relationship of some sort, however unusual it was. You recalled the bitterness in San’s voice when he mentioned you getting the handsome man’s number from the bar. You couldn’t imagine how he’d feel about you crushing on your new classmate.
The highlight of your day quickly grew from summoning San to getting to talk to Yunho for a few moments before and after class and on the bus. You had undeniable chemistry with Yunho, and he was like a walking shot of pure serotonin, a bright ray of happiness in your otherwise dull days.
You still summoned San at night every so often. He hadn’t mentioned anything about Yunho at all, not even a fleeting sarcastic comment. Maybe, just maybe, he was finally following through with his promise of not spying on you.
The nights with San were nice, but you stayed away from anything explicitly sexual for a while. Your contracts became purely professional—well, as professional as an unprofessional demon boy cleaning your bathroom for you in exchange for your virgin blood could get. It felt entirely wrong to lust after him so desperately while your mind was filled with thoughts of your new crush. You almost felt dirty when San was around, like a cheater, though you didn’t know who exactly you were cheating on. You and Yunho were mere acquaintances still, and yet being in the presence of your demon felt wrong. Sinful—and not in the good way.
You rejected San’s flirting, shying from his soft kisses, ducking away when he pinned you like prey against your wall, pulling away from him when his hands explored your waist a little too closely. You craved him entirely, but it felt so wrong. You did, however, let him feed from you still—his lust for your blood was still insatiable, and you felt cruel not even letting him get a taste—but your newest condition was that he couldn’t use your neck.
You couldn’t help but cry out when his fangs sunk into your skin, pain mixing with pleasure as San’s fangs pierced just above your hip bone. The scars were starting to compound, and with each bite, they seemed to heal less and less cleany. You definitely started to look like a vampire’s chew toy in a way you couldn’t just explain away anymore.
His tongue against your skin had you squirming—the neck felt intimate, but your hips were even more so. You imagined his tongue dancing across your skin, his hand sneaking down below the waistband of your pants, his fangs pulling your panties off with his teeth. The fantasy dissolved in your mind when he pulled up from your skin, pushing the hem of your shirt back down while he swiped his other hand over his fangs, smearing the blood with a satisfied moan.
He kept his hand on your waist as he came up, finger tracing your chin, hungry for you after a long night of contracted housework. You could tell he wanted you, more than just your blood, he wanted you. He was begging for you with his eyes, lustful and intense. You wanted him too. You wanted your lips against his, pressed up against yours passionately, the feeling of his cold metal lip ring scraping your bottom lip. You wanted his hands all over you, you wanted to hear his sweet praises in your ear.
But you also couldn’t get the image Yunho out of your head. The things you wanted him to do to you, even more so. The guilt wouldn’t let you go.
You shied away from San, breaking eye contact. “San—I—I’m tired. I just want to sleep.”
He sighed, clicking his tongue against his teeth in annoyance. Your constant rejections of him were probably suspicious, but you didn’t know how to tell him about Yunho.
“Fine. But you know, something’s off with you.” He narrowed his eyes, his scrutinizing crimson gaze making you incredibly self-conscious. Like you were under investigation.
“I’m just overloaded with school right now.” Were you really lying to him? That was a dangerous game.
“Are you lying to me? That pretty little face doesn’t hide very much, you know.” Fuck. “Whatever. I’m not obligated to stay here. Our contract is up anyway.”
“San, wait—”
But he was gone.
The empty space on your bed where he just was stung just as much as the still-fresh bite mark on your hip. You lifted your hand to meet your cheek, wet with saltwater. Why were you crying?
“Who knew a class about religion was going to have such a crazy workload?”
You shoved your notebooks into your school back as you packed up at the end of class. The only class you looked forward to in the day also happened to be the hardest one—your professor turned out to be especially harsh with his tests, and assigned so much work you could hardly keep up.
“Right? I thought this was going to be an easy one. Maybe I should have been tipped off by the ‘Advanced’ part of the class description,” you responded with a smile, eliciting one of his intoxicating laughs. You couldn’t help but smile when he smiled.
“Maybe we could study together?”
Your heart stopped in your chest, and you paused for a moment to weigh his proposal. It wasn’t a difficult decision. “That would be nice,” you said with a flirtatious smile. You hadn’t had a chance to hang out with him outside of the setting of school yet. Although it was just an invitation to study, it almost felt like he was asking you on a date. “I know a cafe we could go to. It’s open pretty late. We could go tonight if you wanted,” you added.
A night free of demon drama would be nice for once. The guilt when you looked at San was practically eating you alive. You couldn’t lie to him anymore, but you also couldn’t face him enough to tell him the truth. You would jump on any reason to avoid having to have that conversation one more day.
“I’m not doing anything now, actually. We could go right now?”
You nodded with a soft smile. “Sounds great.”
The time flew way too fast as you studied at the cafe with him. You’d gone relatively early, but you somehow managed to still be there when they started ushering the customers out at closing. You were studying, but it also felt like a date of sorts. You were being particularly flirty, and if you weren’t imagining things, he was too. He bought you a coffee, held the chair out for you as you sat down, even brushed up against you a few times while you sat next to each other.
“Is it just me or did that feel like it went by way too fast?” Yunho asked with a laugh, holding open the door for you as you stepped outside.
You were met immediately with the cold night air, coughing you to shiver a bit from the chill of the wind against your skin. Yunho’s arm came down suddenly to wrap around your shoulders, his thick fuzzy sweater warming you in the cold, though he had to lower himself down a bit to get a proper angle on your shoulders. You melted into his touch immediately, heat rising in your face. It felt… right. You never wanted to leave this moment.
“Would you like to come back to my apartment?” you asked hesitantly, not wanting to seem too forward. “To finish studying, I mean. We still have a bit left to go over.”
Studying. Funny. That’s definitely not what you wanted to do with him right now.
He squeezed his arm around you tighter. “I’d love to.”
You settled down at your apartment with him. You hadn’t had a guy in your apartment other than San in months. Actually, come to think of it, you hadn’t had anyone in your apartment other than San in that time. At least it was already sparkling clean, thanks to your demon maid.
You settled on your loveseat couch—it was all you had room for in your small apartment. Yunho nestled up next to you, scooting up next to you until his hips were touching yours. You did your best to focus on the work in front of you, but you couldn’t help but feel distracted by what his touch was doing to you. It was so minimal it was almost non-existent, but even the faintest brush of him against you had you blushing and flustered.
Yunho glanced over at you. “So, for this question, I think we need to—”
But you couldn’t let him finish. You were leaning into him before you even had a chance to ask yourself what you were doing. Your lips met his softly. He tasted like sunshine, like heaven itself. He rocked back against you, hands lacing in your hair, moaning against your lips. You pushed back into him, savoring every taste of him. Your arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his hands moving to—
“Sorry to interrupt your fun.”
You nearly jumped a foot in the air at the sudden voice, echoing loudly off the walls.
San. He was standing in front of the kitchen, leaning against the counter top. His eyes glared darkly in your direction.
“San, holy fuck. What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes flitting over to Yunho. He couldn’t just appear like that, he was going to get himself in massive trouble.
He ignored you entirely, his eyes almost black as he drew his gaze over to your guest. “Yunho. Surprised to see you here. What business do you have with my human, exactly?
Did he just call him by his name? How did San—
“San. Always a displeasure,” Yunho responded at your side.
What the fuck was going on here? You watched in shock as their eyes met, both seemingly as displeased as the other to see each other.
“I’m sorry, explain to me what’s going on?” you asked with wide eyes, voice rising as your confusion compounded.
San took a few threatening steps forward, like an animal protecting its territory. “Your little lover boy right here… is a former colleague of mine. Care to tell her, Yunho? Or are you just gonna lead her on, hmm?”
Yunho glanced at you, his big eyes filled with what looked like regret, then back at San vengefully. Anger didn’t look right on him. “You don’t have to do this, San.”
San flashed his fangs in a sinister snarl. “If you don’t tell her, I will.”
Yunho glanced at you for a moment, then back at San, hesitating. “San, really, you don’t have to do this,” he pleaded again, eyes wide as he glanced back at you. He shuffled closer to you, putting a hand on your leg protectively.
“I warned you,” he growled. “So you’re going around kissing humans now, hmm? Is there some sort of new angel code I missed somewhere?”
I’m sorry, did he say angel?
“You really aren’t the same San I remember,” Yunho said through his teeth, ruffling his free hand through his cotton-candy hair in annoyance. The other gripped tighter on your leg. “What did you think you’d accomplish by coming here, anyway?”
“I’m trying to find out what business you have with Y/N. She’s not even your assignment. You thought you’d just have a little fun with her, huh? Didn’t know you were the type to play with your humans.”
Yunho sighed. “I’ve been reassigned.”
“So she is your assignment now, is that it?”
“Yes.” Yunho dropped his gaze from San’s for a moment, locking it with yours for a moment. “You’ll have to forgive me,” he whispered softly.
Ugh. Why did every guy you fell for have to be not human? You knew a boy like Yunho was too good to be true, anyway. You were sensing a pattern.
“You go around kissing all your assignments then?”
A blush rose to Yunho’s cheeks, staining them a gorgeous shade of rose. Even now, he glowed ethereally, fittingly angelic for an angel. Guess that explained why he was always sparkling. And why he smelled like the actual embodiment of heaven. “Not usually, no. I got caught up in the moment. It was unprofessional.” San rolled his eyes, clicking his tongue against his teeth mockingly, but Yunho continued. “I’ve been assigned to protect her.”
“From what?” San asked, relaxing his hostile stance back a bit.
Yunho glanced at you, then back at San, uneasiness coming through in his gaze.
“From you.”
#ateez smut#san smut#yunho smut#san x reader#ateez x reader#yunho x reader#choi san smut#jeong yunho smut#hongjoong smut#wooyoung smut#choi san fic#ateez fic#ateez fanfic
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Couples Retreat ~ KSJ [M] [Request]
↬↬↬Word Count: 6.1K
↬↬↬Genre: Fluff, smut (fluffy smut) mentions of cheating Namjoon, fluff, a TINY angst
↬↬↬Pairing: Seokjin x reader
↬↬↬A/n: Okay I had a lot of fun with this one and I normally don’t say that about fluff, I’ve been trying to work on my writing style so let me know what you think and I hope this is okay for you love
The small car that you were travelling in pulled into the snow-filled driveway and you were in 'awe' already of the small log cabin in front of you it was gorgeous and looked like something from a Christmas movie. It was pitch black outside since you'd come out in the dead of night but there were fairy lights lining the triangle roofing that was shining through despite being covered by snow you were sure that if it was snowing right now the scene would be something straight out of a snowglobe.
"I'll get the bags, go inside," Jin said as he handed you a small silver key, by the bags he meant your bags because this was going to be a peaceful weekend alone for you. The bags were also filled with mostly his clothes and parts of yours he'd found around the dorms back home, you couldn't go back to get your own. Not after how you'd found the house. You were never going to go back there for as long as you lived, too many images and too many bad memories.
"Thanks again Jin this is- this is whoa." You whispered struggling to think of words on how to thank him for everything he was doing and everything he'd been doing since finding out the news about you and Namjoon or rather what Namjoon had done.
"I told you it's what friends are for." You sighed, he'd been saying that the entire drive up but it didn't make any of it easier. You wanted to thank him properly for this it was supposed to be your weekend away with Namjoon but after what you walked in on him doing you doubted that there would ever be and you and Namjoon again. You flicked on the light switch inside the cabin and it lit everything up, the lounge and kitchen were joint together while the two bedrooms were split between a giant fireplace in the middle each with their own en-suite inside. It was like the perfect little getaway place.
You'd had one of the worst days at work that you could have had, your boss had done nothing but hound you about some report that was due but it wasn't within your jurisdiction to write it. Instead, it was down to the intern that he was fucking to do but she was too busy getting her rocks off to even bother with it so it was passed down to you. All you wanted to do was get home, crawl into bed beside Namjoon and sleep away until you could leave on your romantic getaway the next day,
"What the-" The front door was locked which was odd because Namjoon only locked the door when he was going to the studio and he'd told you he wasn't going there today. That he was going to spend the day packing up your bags for the weekend away at Jin's family winter cabin. The keys in the door jingled with all of the keychains that you had on them and you frowned seeing Namjoon's coat and shoes by the front door so he was obviously home. You took your keys from the door and bent down to pick up the post as you shut the door behind you,
"Namjoon? Are you home?" You called out to an empty apartment, you were about to head into the living room when you heard something bang upstairs from the bedroom. You dropped the keys into the bowl at the bottom of the stairs and kicked off your shoes as you flicked through the letters you had in your hand.
"Namjoon I was thinking we could head up to Jin's early? I'm feeling really deflated from work." You laughed it off as you stared at all of the letters while opening the door. You hadn't even noticed at first until you heard a scream, you looked up to see him naked with another woman.
"N-Namjoon?" Your voice broke and the letters dropped onto the floor as you came to the realisation of what they were doing in the bed together, you stumbled backwards into the door and tried to make a quick retreat out of the house.
"Y/n wait!" Namjoon called trying to get out of the tangled sheets and come after you but you were already out into the street as he reached the front door.
"Y/n!"
"Don't! Don't Namjoon," You turned around to see him standing there in nothing but a sheet, all you could see when you looked at him was him in the bed with her. In your bed where you should have been,
"Y/n please don't walk away from me," You scoffed at how he was acting, as if he was the hurt one in this situation. You opened up your car door right as the blonde he'd been with came to the door and shouted Namjoon to come back to her, you stared at him as if daring him to go back to her. You wanted to know what he was going to do, throw 5 years of a relationship away for some hookup or try to make it even remotely okay with you? His back slowly turning towards the door gave you the answer you'd been dreading and you got into the car.
Tears filled your eyes as you pulled into Jin's driveway, you had no idea if he would even be home or if he'd be alone you just had to get out of the house and away from Namjoon.
"Jin?!" You called out as you frantically banged on the door waiting for an answer but there was nothing.
"Jin?" Your voice trembled as you finally succumbed to the tears that had been threatening to spill since the moment you left your driveway that night. Everything about seeing him with her kept rushing back to your head when you tried to close your eyes, you just wanted to get the image out of there. But the way she called out his name when she stood at the door...as if she owned the place.
"Fuck," You sobbed rolling down the door and bringing your knees into your chest as your lip began to tremble you finally let out a shaky breath as you cried into your knees.
"Y/n?" You heard Jin's voice call out, he'd heard you whimpering when he got out of his car and he found you curled up in a ball on his doorstep.
"What are you doing here? Where's Nam-" He stood himself from asking that last question when he saw your tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes.
"Can...Can I come in?" He nodded and helped you up from the floor, walking behind you with his hand on the small of your back. You hadn't told him anything but he could tell whatever it was wasn't good.
"There are fresh towels in the bathroom for you, and I think I had someone stock up the fridges and cupboards so you'll be okay for food," Jin said as the grand tour of the log cabin came to an end. Your arms were wrapped around you tightly, you were standing in one of his hoodies and some sweatpants of Jimin's. All of the clothes you were going to bring were back at the house and you'd begged Jin not to take you back there. Instead, he took you to the dorms to grab clothes from there and then drove you straight up into the mountains promising you it would help get your mind off things. If Namjoon had been the one to bring you up here - like he was supposed to - Jin wouldn't have needed to come but you'd never been and so he wanted to make sure you knew your way around. You knew it was going to mostly get away from the media that was going to be spread soon enough, there was no doubt in your mind that whoever it was that had been with Namjoon was going to tell everyone she knew that she'd been with him.
"I feel bad if I send you home tonight Jin, it's late." You whispered to him as you noticed him getting his car keys from his pocket. It was 2 am and the roads were going to start getting icy, you didn't want to risk him getting hurt just because you needed the getaway.
"I'll stay the night and then I'll leave you to it, I have to go and have words with him." You knew how Jin was feeling, he'd voiced his opinion the moment you told him what Namjoon was doing or rather who he was doing. He didn't want to leave you there alone though, he didn't want you to think that you had to go through all of this alone. He wanted you to be able to talk to him about anything without worrying about him going back to Namjoon and talking about you because he wouldn't do that.
"You should get some sleep, it's been a long day for you." He told you as he nodded over to the main room of the house, you'd already been inside when he gave you the tour.
The room was huge and in the middle was a four-poster bed with red silk sheets on the top,
"I put some of Yoongi's basketball shorts in for you to sleep in," Jin explained pointing at the suitcase that was by the end of the bed, you thanked him once again before saying goodnight to him, he shut the door on you and went to the other room to get some sleep.
You laid there awake for what felt like hours until you finally sat up, the sun was just starting to peek through all of the trees that were surrounding the house which meant it was probably around 6:30 in the morning and you hadn't slept a wink all night. You couldn't though, every time you closed your eyes it was like you were back in that room with them but it seemed to drag on forever in your mind. Every blink made you think of the way he looked at her, it was the way he used to look at you. You didn't think he was unhappy, as far as you knew everything was perfect between you and Namjoon until now then your mind wandered to how long this had been going on for behind your back, how long he and her had been laughing about everything you did. It was too much and you had to stop thinking about it.
Sliding out from under the silk sheets you grabbed some shorts from the suitcase and another one of Jin's oversized hoodies and made a beeline for the en-suite, you'd been dying to use that shower with the jets since the moment you walked into the en-suite and saw them all sitting there.
The door to Jin's room opened and he grumbled something as he came out, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to wake himself up.
"Morning, I made coffee. Do you want some breakfast?" He was shocked to hear you so cheerful this morning, he was sure he was going to come out and find you crying on the floor but you seemed to be putting on a good face.
"I'll take a coffee for the road," You made an 'urm' sound as you tried to think of a way to tell him that he wouldn't go going anywhere anytime soon when he heard the radio talking in the background,
''That's right folks if you're up there in the mountains expect to be snowed in for the weekend as there's a snowstorm coming this way. Keep your winter socks on and get settled in front of the fireplace as it's going to be a cold one." You turned back to look at Jin who nodded, he was used to being snowed in up here so it was no big deal to him.
"Looks like I'm hijacking your weekend, I'm sorry." You shook your head at him promising him that it was fine. In a way, you were relieved not to have to go through this weekend alone and spend every waking moment wondering about Namjoon back home, you and Jin got along great so it would be just like hanging out with a friend.
"I'll take breakfast, what are we having?" You softly smiled at him and shrugged your shoulders.
"What do you fancy?" You opened up the fridge, he wasn't kidding when he said someone had stopped by to stock it up. The only time you'd ever seen a fridge so full of food was whenever you went grocery shopping with Namjoon.
"Whenever we had snow days as kids my mum would make pancakes." You grabbed milk and eggs from the fridge and went hunting for flour in the cupboards.
"Why was I cursed with such tiny limbs?!" You cried out upon seeing the flour on the top shelf of the kitchen cupboard, Jin chuckled from behind you as he watched you struggling to climb onto the countertop and get the flour.
"Want a hand?"
"I've got it, I've got it." You didn't have it, in fact, you were never going to have it because you couldn't even manage to get one leg onto the counter. Jin's presence was only let known when he stood really close to you and reached up to get it for you.
"Thanks." You whispered turning around in his arms and taking the bag of flour from him, he smiled down at you just now noticing how your eyes seemed to highlight your face very well.
"Anytime," His voice sounded like it could make the angels sing, it was a lot like his singing voice but you'd never noticed until you were this close to one another. You cleared your throat and went on to continue making the pancakes that he'd asked for.
After the kitchen encounter, Jin tried to stay away from being that close to you again. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable with him being there but he wasn't going to lie to himself and say that having you right there wasn't nice. He kept imagining himself bending down to kiss you, pushing some of the hair from your face and holding you there while you made breakfast together, he shook his head trying to get the image out of his brain. You'd just broken up with Namjoon and he was supposed to be there for moral support instead of trying to kiss you.
"Jin!" He sat up from the sofa in a panic and dropped the book he was holding, you sounded scared and he was panicking thinking something had happened to you. He burst through the bedroom door to see you clinging onto one of the bedposts while pointing at the floor.
"Spider!" He screamed jumping onto the bed beside you and holding onto the same bedpost,
"What are you doing?! Get the spider!" You whined looking at it as it crawled along the floor towards the en-suite, you'd come in to get changed when you saw it chilling right next to your suitcase.
"What if we just give it the log cabin as a sign of gratitude for not eating us!?" It didn't help that both of you were deathly afraid of all creepy bugs and that thing shouldn't even be classified as one, it was far too large to be classified as a bug. Might as well call it a pet.
"Could put a saddle on it and ride it down the mountain." A shiver ran up your spine as you spoke watching it walk into the en-suite, Jin watched as you carefully got down from the bed and shakily took a class from the bedside table,
"What..What are you doing?" He stuttered out joining you back on the floor as you crept over to the bathroom door,
"Saving us from burning the entire log cabin down." You whispered as if the spider could hear you both and somehow catch on to what you were about to do.
"Deep breath," You whispered to yourself but Jin did one for you,
"Not you stupid," You grumbled quickly pouncing onto the floor and placing the cup on top of the spider,
"JIN PAPER QUICK!" You squealed watching as the poor guy tried to get out of the glass in your hand, Jin rushed around the room looking for something to use when he found some.
"Thanks," He pushed himself against the wall as you carefully picked up the spider, cup and paper combo and walked out of the bedroom in the direction of the front door. You knew spiders couldn't survive in snow so you headed straight to the trees and place the combination of items onto it before running away and slamming the door shut behind you.
"I didn't want to kill him...he could have had a family." Jin stared at the back of your head as you felt empathy for a spider, his facial expression softened as he watched you watching the cup for a couple of minutes before going back to your own room to do something else. He couldn't help but think about how cute you were when you did all of that, especially when he knew you were just afraid of all bugs like him.
"What are you doing?" You questioned later in the night when you heard Jin clattering around in the kitchen, you turned away from the book you were holding to see him pan in his hand as well as trying to carry other ingredients.
"Hot chocolate, come help." You closed the book you were reading and walked over to him to see what needed to be done,
"Get me a gallon of milk from the fridge and then the cinnamon from the spice rack." You gave him a sarcastic salute before walking away to get the ingredients he'd asked you for.
"Carefully pour the milk in here." He tapped the pot and watched you pour the huge bottle of milk right into the pan while he began weighing out everything else you needed,
"Can you get the cocoa powder-" He stopped talking when he saw you staring at him blankly,
"You're taller you get it." He smirked knowing you were still annoyed that everything you needed was on the higher shelves of the cabin, it was the same with the book you'd picked out to read. It had been on the tallest shelf and you couldn't get it down resulting in you waking Jin up from a nap to get it for you.
"If we're making hot chocolate can we bake as well?" You questioned looking over his shoulder at the stocked cupboards, there was enough in there to make an entire army a bunch of cookies, cakes and still have room left over.
"Sure, find a recipe online." You took out your phone and the smile from your face fell off. You had calls from Namjoon sitting there, texts and even alerts on twitter to tell you the latest news story updates. It was out in the world that you and Namjoon broke up, photos of him dressed in nothing but a sheet were splashed around the internet and while you felt bad that they were out there in a way he deserved it for what he'd done for you.
"What is it- Oh." Jin's voice fell flat, he'd forgotten that the rest of the world even existed outside of the cabin with you and it was all coming back to him that you were one of his friend's ex-girlfriends and he was cosying up to you.
"It's fine. I'm okay," And you were, spending time with Jin was starting to take your mind off of it all, you never thought it would like this but if this was what was helping to keep you distracted you would keep on at it.
"Let's bake okay?" He told you poking your cheek with a spoon as he awaited more instructions on what you needed from the cupboard in order to make the best cookies he was ever going to have in his entire life.
"Nothing can beat my mum's cookies." He exclaimed as he began stirring the pot of milk to bring it to a boil, you scoffed at him.
"You haven't tried mine yet."
You slapped his hand away as he reached for a cookie before the movie even started,
"Kim Seokjin I will break that hand." You giggled at him as he tried to go for another cookie. Once the opening credits began on the Christmas film you'd selected - yes a Christmas film in November - you handed him one cookie staring at his face while you waited for him to bite into it. He looked at you in the corner of his eye,
"Is this the part of the trip where you poison me?" You nodded dramatically and he bit into the cookie chewing on it. The outside was the perfect crunch but yet the inside had that classic chewy centre that had his mouthwatering and begging for more. You could already tell by the look on his face that he was enjoying them,
"Told you mine were better." You teased giving him another cookie and directing your attention to the movie.
Jin's eyes kept dancing over to you whenever he heard you quoting the movie under your breath, it made him chuckle to hear you recite the lines back to the TV.
"Merry Christmas ya filthy animal." You made the gun noises,
"And a happy new year." He started chuckling and you looked at him to see what he was finding so funny when you came nose to nose with him,
"S-Sorry, I know how annoying it is I'll stop-"
"No, don't, It's cute." You felt a warm feeling spread up the back of your neck and into your ears as he indirectly called you cute, you bit down on your lip eyes flicking from his lips to his eyes while the movie ran in the background.
"C-Cute?" You whispered and he nodded slowly at you as he leant in towards you, you leant up. Neither of you were thinking about anything and once your lips touched the rest of the world melted away. The movie faded into silence, Namjoon was out of your mind you were just there with Jin. His hands came up to cup your cheeks while yours worked their way onto the back of his neck moving closer to him until the plate that had been holding the cookies slipped from his lap and smashed onto the floor. You sprung apart from one another and he looked at the plate.
"I'll clean it up," You nodded frantically trying to calm down your rapidly beating heart from the Earth-shattering kiss that had just happened between you both.
"I'm...I'm going to go and er...I'm going to go and shower," You said nervously before leaving the living room and going straight into the en-suite within your room. You stared at yourself in the mirror, you'd just made out with Jin on the sofa. Jin who was your ex-boyfriend's best friend. Your ex-boyfriend who had cheated on you. You bent down splashing cold water onto your face as you tried not to think about the kiss but it was hard not to. It was one of the most amazing kisses you'd ever experienced in your life, you could still feel his touch on you as you stood up and stared at yourself once again. What were you thinking? He was Namjoon's best friend, you couldn't kiss him again...even though you really wanted to. Everyone would have something to say about it if they found out.
The next day it was as if nothing had happened between you and Jin, you almost thought that maybe it was some kind of hyper-realistic dream that you'd had until you found the broken plate in the bin. You and Jin hadn't spoken all day, when he was in the living room you were hiding out in the bedroom and when he was in his room you were in the kitchen trying to eat before he came out. You didn't know how to act around someone you had just kissed you who you weren't supposed to kiss even if it did feel right to you both.
"What are you doing?" Jin asked when he watched you walk in from the snow and walk over to the fridge, you looked over at him.
"Building a snowman." You held up the carrot in your hand and he stood up from the sofa, you'd thought he was still hiding out in his room which is why you'd come in from outside.
"You didn't invite me," He pouted slipping on a coat and following you out into the front part of the cabin, sitting there next to his car were two snowmen that were wrapped in one of Jimin's scarfs and one of Jungkook's hat's that he'd brought along for you.
"He's handsome, is it me?" He joked following you over as you placed a carrot on each of the snowmen faces,
"Nah, not big-headed enough." You deadpanned and he faked a gasp bending down to retrieve some snow from the floor before balling it up and throwing it at you.
"Oh no, you didn't!" You screamed bending down to grab some and launching it at him,
"Snowball fight!" He yelled you darted behind his car and skidded along the floor as you tried to make as many snowballs as fast as you could.
"You're going down Kim!" You cried out as you came out from the car and threw as many as fast as you could before kneeling back down to reload.
"Oh yeah!? Going down am I?!" You squealed as he came over with snowballs hitting you in the legs before knocking you down onto the floor on your back, he was straddling your lap as you looked up at him giggling as he tickled your sides through the thick coat you were wearing.
"I yield!" You yelled and he finally stopped tickling you laughing as you stared up at him covered in snowflakes as he began snowing around you both. It really was something out of a snowglobe scene,
"Come on, before we get sick." He chuckled helping you onto your feet and walking you towards the cabin,
"Go and have a shower, I'll make food and put the fire on." He told you as he stripped you from the coat and went to hang it up somewhere to dry, you looked at him as he did all of it. You wanted to kiss him again and again and again. The whole time he had you pinned down to the floor you wanted him to kiss you like they did in the movies but life wasn't like the movies.
After eating together you were sat in front of the fire trying to warm up, maybe a snowball fight wasn't the best idea when the only thing to keep you warm was a fireplace. The cabin hadn't been kitted out with radiators just yet so you were left to try and warm up here.
"Go and get the covers from your room and the pillows," Jin whispered when he noticed how tired you were getting. Your eyes were struggling to stay open but you nodded and sleepily made your way into your room to drag the giant cover from the bed along with the pillows. Coming back into the living room you saw Jin was laying his down on the floor in front of the fireplace,
"Pillows," You threw the pillows to him and he laid them down so you would be at one end while he was at the other. It didn't appeal to you though, you wanted to snuggle up next to him in front of the fire but you understood that it would probably make him uncomfortable since you were Namjoon's ex.
"You're shivering." He mumbled an hour later, you'd both been trying to sleep but you couldn't drift off because of how cold you were.
"Here," He moved over and patted the space in front of him, you shifted around to him and laid down so he was right behind you.
"I'll be able to warm you up quicker." His breath was right on your neck and it send shivers down your spine to have him this close, you could feel his heart racing as you tried to relax against him but it was hard.
"Your heart is beating a thousand times a second," You whispered turning around to look up at him, he swallowed nervously and looked down into your eyes, you somehow looked more beautiful by firelight than ever before and he couldn't help but reach out and run his hand over your cheek, you leant your face into his hand to let him know that you wanted him to do it again. Without thinking he kissed you again, your hands were on the back of his neck pulling him closer to you, you both smiled into the kiss as he pulled you closer by your waist. The sudden closeness made everything around you feel warm, the fire having nothing to do with it. Jin swiped his tongue along your bottom lip and you parted your lips for him allowing him to snake his tongue against yours. You whined as you felt him grow larger next to you and ground himself into you. He broke the kiss as he pulled back to make sure you were okay with this,
"I'm okay," You whispered and he chuckled picking you up so you were straddling his lap. You could feel the tension building between you both so you leant forward to kiss him once again, it was soft and slow as his hands ran up your thighs and onto your waist where they stayed. You let out a giggle as he dug his thumb into you and he chuckled as you did so,
"Cute," He whispered before kissing you once again, he turned you over so you were back on the floor again and he began kissing down your neck, softly leaving small love bites on the way. None that would leave too much of a mark. You both knew where this was going but he looked at you to make sure you were still okay with everything going on and you nodded at him. His hands slowly tugged down the shorts you were wearing making the heat between your legs grow. He returned to kissing on your neck, sucking on the skin before soothing it over with his tongue sighing in content as you let out a whine of his name,
"That's so hot." He breathed out and you smiled at him before kissing him and hooking your arms around the back of his neck. His hands slowly traced the inside of your thighs and you whimpered him as you felt your wetness only grow for him.
"Jin," He smirked up at you know what you wanted so he placed a small kiss on your lips before it turned into a loving make out session on the floor.
"Please Jin," You begged as his fingers ran along your folds soaking them in your arousal, you were dripping for him and desperate for him to just touch you.
"I want to taste you," You nervously nodded at him and he shuffled down the floor lifting your right leg over his shoulder as he looked up at you. He blew cold air onto your clit and you whimpered legs shaking and he hadn't even touched you yet.
"You sure?" He questioned and you nodded at him, you'd never been so sure about something else in your life. His mouth attached to your core and you let out a gasp gripping onto the sheets as you felt his tongue begin to flick against your clit. Your eyes fluttered shut as your hand went into his hair pulling at the strands to silently tell him to keep going,
"F-Fuck!!" You cried out letting go of his hair as he continued to suck and pull on your clit, he pushed two of his fingers into you and you whimpered, you were already close from his mouth and this was pushing you over the edge.
"I'm close." You mumbled as you looked down at him, he hummed at your core and the vibrations pushed you further to your edge.
"Jin!" You whimpered as the warm sensation took over your body, your vision began to have black dots in it as your orgasm washed over you. Jin continued to eat you out through your orgasm but the sensitivity was too much and you jutted away from him. He chuckled at you as you took a couple of seconds to get your breathing back to normal,
"You okay?" Your breathing was still harsh but you nodded as you panted to him,
"Fine just a little intense." He chuckled and that was when you spotted the tent in his sweatpants, you were instantly filled with energy and you went to sit up,
"Do you need a minute-"
"Need you." You whispered and he chuckled at your desperation laying you back down on the floor, then the realisation hit you both,
"I don't have any-"
"Me neither but I've got an IUD," You told him and he nodded at you, he knew you were clean. He kicked off his sweatpants and lined himself up at your entrance. Rubbing himself up and down in your folds to coat himself up,
"Jin please," You begged and he kissed you as he slowly slipped into you, you moaned into the kiss at the feeling of him stretching you out around him sending a feeling of intense ecstasy through your body.
"Shit you feel so good," He grunted holding himself in place and placing his head in the crook of your neck to stop himself from ravishing you.
"Y-You can move." You whimpered wanting to feel him move, he hooked your leg over his shoulder once again and he began to roll his hips into you, kissing you as he fucked into you.
"Jin," You moaned out encouraging him to go a little faster. His hips continued thrusting into you and you could feel his tip hitting that one part of you that had your legs shaking and your eyes rolling back. Jin could tell by the look on your face that you were close yet again and he loved it.
"You're so tight, fuck you have no idea how amazing you feel." He moaned out as his hand held onto your waist so he could keep you in place. you tightened around at him at his words and he picked up the pace a little more, angling himself so he could reach deeper into you.
"Shit right there!" You cried out back arching off the floor as he hit you in just the right spot that turned your version blurry. His free hand travelled down to your core where he began rubbing your clit in fast circles making you whimper and cry out his name over and over again. Pleasure ripping through you as you felt your second orgasm hitting you of the night,
"Jin!" You cried out riding out your high as he released into you grunting out your name heavily as he held himself in place.
The next morning you woke up tangled in Jin's arms and you smiled looking up at him, the sun was shining through the window directly on him and he looked like an angel sent from above.
"Cute," You whispered kissing his cheek getting up to go and have a quick shower before he woke up, you had no idea what was going to happen the moment you left the cabin but right here and now you didn't care. All you cared about was the magical night that you and Jin had spent together, come to think of it the whole weekend had been amazing considering it was supposed to be. A weekend away with Namjoon, turned into a weekend away alone turned to a weekend away with your ex-boyfriend's best friend who you'd just slept with. There was one thing for sure in your mind, you didn't regret sleeping with him at all and you didn't think you were ever going to. Being with Jin felt right and you didn't care if it was wrong in anyone else's eyes.
Tagline:
@writingdreamsnottragedies @snowy-meowl @jooniesdarlingdimples @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @fan-ati--c @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie
#bts#bts x reader#bts x you#bts x y/n#bts imagine#bts smut#bts imagines#seokjin#seokjin x reader#seokjin imagine#seokjin smut#jin x reader#jin smut#jin imagine#kim seokjin#kim seokjin x reader#kim seokjin imagine#kim seokjin smut#min yoongi#yoongi#suga#jung hoseok#hoseok#jhope#kim namjoon#namjoon#namjoon x reader#park jimin#jimin#kim taehyung
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can i get a good night’s sleep? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep?!
or: five times peter parker doesn’t sleep + the one time he does
my contribution to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! this is for @snarky-drabbles - I hope you enjoy it!
1.
The first time is actually just the first in a while. Peter’s had problems sleeping ever since he was a little kid; it was just one issue of many that stacked up on top of each other, resulting in his personal belief that he must be the most difficult kid to look after on the planet.
Asthma meant hundreds of dollars spent on inhalers, covering what their shitty insurance didn’t. His poor eyesight was the same story and the bullies that used to break his glasses had never helped. But it wasn’t just physical crap, of course: he’s had anxiety for as long as he can remember.
There are cute side-effects like panic attacks and nausea, not to mention the constant sense of impending doom he’s been nursing since… well, birth, probably. When he was younger he’d worry about whether or not the taxi driver had enough gas in his car to get them where they needed to go, or maybe Ben would get shot at work (ironically enough, he’d never worried that Ben would get shot off-duty, and there is a teeny superstitious sliver of him that believes maybe if he had considered the possibility it never would have happened, like some kind of a reverse jinx or something).
One of the other cute things that comes along with it is insomnia.
So here he is, pacing in his kitchen at three in the morning because May isn’t home yet.
Her shift ended at two. She’s usually back within a half hour considering the hospital isn’t far, hence his agitation.
He’s tried calling and texting to no avail, and he keeps telling himself that everything is fine, that she probably just got held up; meanwhile his subconscious provides a great slideshow of mental images that speak to the opposite—her getting kidnapped because somehow someone links her to Spider-Man, her getting hit with a car, mugged, shot, slipping on black ice—and that’s actually not far-fetched considering it’s January, there’s a lot of it, and so he pulls out his phone and types, You didn’t slip on black ice and die did you? to May.
No little dots appear to signify that she’s typing. The message doesn’t even change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’.
She has her read receipts on. She’s promised him. There’s no reason she’d change that, right? But maybe she accidentally switched them off when she was scrolling through her settings.
He calls her.
“Hi, this is May Parker, I’m unavailable at the moment but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you as soon as—”
Peter hangs up with a dissatisfied grunt.
It’s only then that he realises, to his great dismay, that he’s paced all the way onto the ceiling.
In his shock he loses concentration and falls. “Ow, fuck.” He pulls his aching knee to his chest. It’ll no doubt be bruised soon. “God has forsaken me.”
He picks up his now cracked phone and texts Ned:
I just fell off the ceiling at 3 AM in the morning
Don’t ask me what I was doing on it
Every bone in my body is broken :(
No reply comes which is pretty typical; Ned probably passed out in front of his PC like, hours ago. Peter can picture it: the light of his computer screen casting a blue glow over everything in the room, his head probably tucked into his arms to muffle his snores (and there’s also probably a bowl of stale popcorn spilled across his floor at this point), his creepy mother lurking in the doorway—or worse, trying to find out how to snoop through his laptop while he’s out of it.
Peter could totally go swing down there and help the guy out. It would be something to do anyway.
But no. The door is too far. His suit… too much work. It’s definitely better to just stay here curled up under the table like a little turtle.
But wait—a blanket.
Is it worth the effort? Probably. Peter scans his immediate surroundings and, oh boy, Lady Fate is actually on his side tonight because there’s a gigantic purple fluffy one hanging off the couch and it only takes a little bit of physical exertion to yank it down and wrap it around his body.
He burrows deeper into it and scrolls through Instagram. MJ posted a picture of a banana today. Literally like, just a banana. No caption, no explanation on her story, nothing.
Peter double taps it and comments: i hope u asked before u took his jacket
No like. No reply. That makes sense. It is three in the fucking morning, after all.
No. Three thirty. It’s been an hour and a half.
What had May said once? That it was okay to call someone if she was two hours late?
Peter tries texting and calling one more time and then just sits there, staring at his home screen and watching the minutes pass. At exactly four AM after much deliberation and stomach churning, he calls someone else.
Three rings later: “I’m in Vienna right now so this better be good.”
Peter feels even more nauseous than before. “Oh,” he says. “I guess—never mind, then. Sorry.”
“Wait, wait, that was just for show and I’m greatly intrigued as to why you’re calling me so… early? Late? Anyway I’m out of the conference room now so lay it on me.”
Against his will, Peter’s lip quirks up. “Um, it’s kind of stupid—”
“Nothing is ever stupid,” Tony says. “Especially when it’s coming from the brain of a kid with an intelligence quotient of 260.”
He feels his cheeks heat up and then it all just comes tumbling out, “It’s really late and May was supposed to be off at two and home by two-thirty, but she’s not and I don’t know what to do. I tried calling and texting but she’s not replying and I know that I’m probably just building it up in my head but I can’t help freaking out because like, what if she got stabbed or slipped on black ice or—”
“Hey Pete?”
“Yeah?”
“Breathe.”
Tony’s voice has softened immeasurably. Something uncoils in Peter’s stomach. He flops onto his side and closes his eyes. “I’m breathing.”
“That’s good, kiddo. Now just hang on a sec, I’m gonna call the hospital.”
“What? Why?”
“Well she works there, right?”
“...Yeah.”
“And you haven’t tried calling them yet, correct?”
“...Correct.”
“Ergo,” Tony says.
“But I—”
“Yeah?”
Peter bites his lip and then he just blurts it: “I don’t want you to hang up.”
He feels like such a child but the thought of losing connection with Tony is literally making his heart palpitate and his palms sweat. He needs someone. He needs an adult.
“Well lucky for us both I have two phones.”
Peter cracks an eye. “You what?”
“I’m Tony Stark, don’t question it. Hang on, let me just—hello, hi, um, I need this room. No, it can’t wait. Yes the whole room. Yes locked. I don’t know, five minutes? Ten? An hour? No, I’m not joking. Thank you. Thanks. Yeah. Okay. Bye now.” Something slams shut—the door to the office Tony just stole, probably. “Okay, just a sec, I have the number for the reception desk she works at in my phone.”
Peter, for some reason, feels immeasurably comforted by that. He sits in silence gnawing on his lip while Tony has a somewhat muffled conversation he can’t hear the other side of. Then, “You still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Okay, well, they said she’s covering for someone and can’t get to the phone because a baby had to have emergency surgery so she’s literally in the OR as we speak. Pretty badass and not bad as far as excuses go. Now that you know she’s fine and not dead by ice, how about you get some shut-eye, okay kid?”
Peter swallows. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Tony.”
“No Mr. Stark this time, huh?”
“It’s too late for formalities.”
“I see,” Tony replies. “Sleep, okay?”
“Okay.”
The line goes dead. Peter, slightly relieved but not fully consoled, rolls over to face the door. He doesn’t sleep at all that night and is still there when May comes home at six in the morning with bagels and apologies.
—
2.
The anniversary of Ben’s death is always super weird.
This time it takes him a few minutes to remember what day it is: he’s in the middle of brushing his teeth and then it hits him like a train: oh, it’s been three years.
Then comes May. She usually tries to cook something for breakfast but like always it burns. He leaves the bathroom to the sound of the smoke alarm and fans a cookie sheet at the screeching little device while she swears up and down in Italian.
“It’s okay, May, really—”
“No, it’s not!” She snaps, tossing a batch of blackened cinnamon rolls into the trash. “I just want this day to be easy for you!”
Peter goes over to her and, after kicking the oven door shut with his foot, pulls her into his arms. May starts to cry even though she tries not to; sniffles turn into barely stifled sobs. He knows that it’s harder for her than it is for him. Ben was her husband and they’d been married for thirteen years when he died. Sometimes he still catches her looking to see if he’s laughing too when they watch TV, only to find an empty recliner.
“It’s okay for it to be a bad day,” he whispers. “You know that, right? I mean, I love you to pieces, May, but I don’t wanna see you bending over backwards for me.”
“But that’s my job, doofus.”
Peter pulls back. He’s an inch taller than her now. “No it’s not. We take care of each other, okay?”
Then comes school. Ned usually hovers nervously like an agitated gnat, too afraid to say anything, not sure if he should act normal or be sad in solidarity, which means it’s kind of Peter’s job to set the tone. As he’s putting his combination in for his locker he asks, “So did you beat that level of Obra Dinn last night?”
Ned, shoulders slumping with relief, starts to ramble on about how hard it was to do and how it took him like, thirty whole tries.
They go to class. Peter zones out. He doesn’t bother making more web fluid or ditching and he gets so inside his own head that Coach Wilson compliments him again during gym class. Peter deliberately slows down after that, even if it’s kind of irritating; being physically active actually helps work off his anger.
Because that’s what he is more than anything else: angry. At the mugger, yeah, but at himself more than anything else. It was his fault that they were out that night, anyway. It’s a wonder that May doesn’t hate his fucking guts.
When school is up Peter comes home to an empty house. He thinks about going on patrol but doesn’t really feel up to it, and then he feels bad for not wanting to do it because like, what if someone is dying?
So he puts on the suit and swings from rooftop to rooftop, but there’s no action today. Peter eventually settles on a fire escape with a burrito. A stray cat hops up after a while and, despite his matted fur and crazy eyes, Peter decides he has a kind of quiet dignity about him and names him Charles.
“Do you like beef?” He asks, holding some out for Charles to sniff. The cat yowls and, without any warning other than that, nearly chomps Peter’s fingers off to get the meat.
“Ow, jeez!” Peter shakes his wrist. “I was literally giving it to you for free, but go off I guess.”
Charles blinks his big brown marble eyes and then literally jumps off the fucking ledge. Peter leans over and watches him scamper across the street, somehow not getting hit by any traffic. Sometimes he thinks his spidey sense is more like feline sense in that way: he could probably manage the same thing with his eyes closed.
After a while the sun sets and all of the streetlights turn on. Peter does another patrol around the immediate vicinity but again, nothing. He stays out anyway though because he’d rather do his Chemistry homework behind a dumpster than sit alone in the apartment with nothing but the quiet for company. At least out and about there are sewer rats and mangy dogs and shady characters who actually just turn out to be skateboarders.
Peter is almost done with his assignment when the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
He looks up and finds Iron Man himself coming in for a landing. The suit drops with a barely audible clunk; it’s Mark 54, the sleekest and most lightweight model yet.
“Oh thank God,” says Tony’s voice, “you’re not dead.”
Peter frowns even though Tony can’t see it. “No,” he agrees slowly. “Why would I be dead? What are you doing here?”
“Well, your aunt called me in a panic at around four when she got home and you weren’t there, and then I checked the scanners and saw that you’d been here, completely stationary, for like five whole hours—needless to say I had a little bit of a heart attack and here I am, relieved and also mildly infuriated. Care to explain, young padawan?”
Peter opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Opens it again and, “It’s four AM?”
“Four fifteen,” Tony corrects.
“I didn’t even—I didn’t know! Shit, May’s totally gonna kill me, I might as well be dead—”
“Woah woah woah,” the faceplate lifts, “calm down, okay? No one is mad. Just, uh, concerned, I promise.”
Peter is still frantically packing up his school supplies and not really listening. He only stops when Tony gently touches him by lightly gripping his elbow. “Kid?”
Peter stares down at the older man’s hand. Behind the mask his eyes start to burn. “Ben died.”
“Pardon?”
“Ben died,” he repeats louder. “In this alley. Two years ago.”
All at once Tony’s face falls. He moves to sit by Peter on the grimy floor of the alley while the suit hovers nearby, a hollow shell, just the way Peter feels now.
“Kid,” Tony says, “take off the mask.”
“What? No, I’m in public—”
“No one’s around,” Tony says. “Just take it off, okay?”
Peter does, reluctantly peeling it back to reveal his tear-stained cheeks. Tony stares for a second and then, almost hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Peter. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
“I—” he chokes. “I’m just so tired. I’m tired of having to watch May be strong for me when I can’t be strong back, and I’m tired of Ben not being around. I miss him and it—it’s not fair.”
“Of course it’s not. It’s never fair. That’s why it hurts, kiddo. You’ve got all this love and no place to put it.”
Peter bites his lip to stop it from quivering and looks away, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I just feel pathetic.”
“Don’t,” Tony says firmly. “I felt the same way after my mom died and it… In some ways I don’t think the feeling ever actually went away, but uh, take it from someone who’s had a lot more time to process: no one is expecting anything from you, okay? And I can guarantee there’s not a single human that thinks two years is long enough to be perfectly fine again. You’re allowed to still be upset about this.”
And Peter is. He’s really, really fucking upset about it and so tired of holding it in. Tony pulls him against his chest when Peter starts to cry and it sort of seems like he’ll never be able to stop. There’s just so much, so much guilt and pain and all kinds of other bullshit that he refuses to lay on May.
So he lays it on Tony. And it’s surprisingly not horrible or awkward or even the end of the world.
“You good?” the older man asks, when Peter finally sobers up enough to wipe his cheeks dry and take a few steadying breaths.
“Yeah,” he says, voice ragged and awful-sounding. “Um, sorry. For freaking you and May out and ruining your shirt, I mean.”
“You know there’s this really snazzy invention called a washing machine—”
“Oh my god, shut up.”
Tony laughs and it makes Peter laugh too, and the tension between them just sort of dissipates. “Speaking of clothes,” Tony claps his hands together, “you got any to wear in that backpack?”
“Uh, jeans and a hoodie?”
“Fantastic, incredible. Throw them on, I’m taking you out for breakfast.”
“But what if someone sees?!”
“Let ’em. I’ll have Pep release a statement claiming you as my personal assistant or head intern or something.”
“That’s totally unrealistic.”
“Do I care? No. Just—okay? Up and at ’em, make haste, come on. What do you feel like, pancakes or waffles?”
They bicker about which is better the entire way to the little diner Tony choses, and Peter comes home full an hour later. May is fast asleep at the kitchen table. He kisses her forehead and starts on breakfast for her.
—
3.
He’s thirty minutes into helping MJ study for her AP French test when she finally gets a question wrong. “‘Il n'est pas clair que’?” Peter queries, holding up the flash card.
“‘It’s not certain that’?”
He makes a pitying noise. “Close. ‘It’s not clear that’.”
“What’s not clear, exactly? That if I see one more word in French I’m gonna blow my brains out?”
Peter snorts. “No, actually it says more clarification is required on how much you like your boyfriend. Suggestions to improve that include: a hug, a kiss, both—”
“Neither?”
He pouts. “Mean.”
MJ rolls her eyes, but she kisses him first. She tastes like the Twizzlers they’ve been eating and her hands are in his hair and she laughs when he presses his lips to her cheeks and nose and forehead.
They somehow end up in an incredibly compromising position. “You know,” MJ muses, “I don’t think I’ve been studying the right kind of French.”
Peter, hovering over her (oops), nods in agreement. “This kind is definitely way better.”
She wraps her arms around his neck and he’s so consumed with this: her and him and the smell of her jasmine shampoo—that he almost doesn’t hear it.
Almost.
Peter rips away abruptly. “What was that?”
She groans. “God, you’re such a dog sometimes.”
He ignores her, sitting alert with his eyes narrowed at the window and, sure enough, there it is again: a faint, blood-curdling scream. “Someone’s being attacked or something. Maybe four blocks away tops.”
MJ squints. “Don’t tell me you can echolocate.”
“I—” Peter’s mouth snaps shut and then opens again. “I actually don’t know. Anyway, I gotta go.”
He presses a quick kiss to her cheek, throws on his jacket, and quickly ducks out her fire escape (which happens to be the same way that he came in). He slips the mask on and tosses his hood up; it’s raining in heavy, icy sheets and Peter is drenched within seconds of swinging. He remembers the first time he’d gone out during a storm; the webbing he’d made hadn’t held up because the chemical formula hadn’t accounted for the massive amounts of water-based reaction, so the biocables had evaporated as they left his shooters. Thankfully he hadn’t jumped first that day, otherwise he would be a Peter Pancake.
Another scream sounds. Peter follows it and winds up latched onto the side of a two-story brick building. There’s an incredibly dark alley below, but a quick flash of lightning tells him everything he needs to know: one man is trying to wrestle a woman down, while another is rifling through her purse. He’s also holding a gun.
“Oh, cute,” he mutters sarcastically.
Peter tries to time it right: he takes aim and shoots a web right at the weapon with the next bout of lightning, but to his immense misfortune, the armed mugger had already seen him and was aiming right back. The bullet hits Peter in the side.
“Ow,” he says, “that was uncalled for.”
He drops. His side is throbbing and hot but he ignores it in favour of disarming the guy who shot him. It’s a brief struggle but Peter ends up whacking the gun out of his hand and webbing it to the wall opposite. Then he knocks the guy out with a solid upper cross to the temple.
Peter rounds. The assailant has already fled, leaving the woman shivering but relatively unharmed.
“You okay, ma’am?” he asks.
“Me? That guy shot you!”
Peter looks down at his side which is now stained with blood. “Oh, yeah.”
He’d actually forgotten for half a second. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he’s starting to really feel it: a burning sensation in his abdomen, an aching that pulses from his stomach to his chest. Ah. Wonderful.
A little dazed, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Super healing. Are you good? You need me to call you a cab?”
“What? No, um—the police station is like, down the block, I can go get them.”
“Are you sure? Because I can totally do that—”
“I can handle myself,” she says sharply, bending down to pick up her purse and the discarded items within. “It’s just… there were two of them and there was a gun and—”
“I get it,” Peter says, his hand pressing harder into his side as the world grows blurrier around the edges. “You really don’t want me to at least walk you down?”
“I’ll take a taxi,” she says. “You just, um, get yourself fixed up, okay? And thanks.”
“Yeah, sure, anytime! But, y’know, preferably never again,” Peter says, and proceeds to swing away.
—
Tony doesn’t expect to get woken up at two AM after only just falling asleep five minutes before, but such is life; FRIDAY’s voice bleeds through the speakers above to inform him that Spider-Man is currently rifling through the Med-Bay and bleeding from a wound on his side.
Pepper looks at him. “You heard that too, right? That was real?”
“It was real.”
They both scramble out of bed. Tony takes the lead, throwing on his jacket as he runs toward the elevator. It’s times like these when every second stretches out into an eternity; it takes maybe five of them to get from their floor to the Med-Bay, but it feels like forever.
The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.
“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”
Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”
“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”
“I know, right?” Peter glances up. “Hey, Pepper.”
“Peter,” she returns. “Do you mind if I wash my hands and take a look at that?”
“If you want. It’s kinda gross, though.”
“Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”
Through this exchange Tony was already washing up, and now he dons a pair of gloves and sits on the rolling stool. “Looks like it’s through and through,” he tells Pep over his shoulder. “Could you grab a couple suture kits and, uh, the stuff?”
Pepper makes a face. “The stuff?”
“You know,” Tony says, “The Good Stuff.”
Her eyes widen. “Oh, that stuff.”
Tony feels around the area. “Do you know what kind of gun was used?”
“Looked like your standard nine mil,” Peter replies. His voice is growing a little slurred.
That’s good though, about the gun. Means there’s probably not any bullet fragments to worry about. Tony grabs a load of gauze and presses it against the wound. He checks Peter’s pulse while he’s at it and finds that it’s slowed considerably. “We’re gonna have to get you some blood, too. A neg, right?”
“Yuppers.”
Tony excuses that because after all, the kid is bleeding out on a table. Said kid actually starts to swing his legs back and forth and, yeah, that’s not gonna fly. “Do me a favour and lay back? I’m gonna put this towel right under you for now.”
Peter doesn’t have any arguments, or if he does, he doesn’t vocalise them. Pepper comes back in with the kits and drugs and, because she’s just smarter than him like that, bags of blood.
Tony grabs the vials first and loads up a syringe. Peter is pretty numb to all of it until the needle goes in. Then he frowns. “Why are you injecting me with alien blood?”
Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not alien blood, it’s a pain killer. A serious one at that, so you’re probably gonna feel a little out of it for a while, okay?”
Peter frowns. “Is it for Steve?”
Tony tenses, but it’s only for a second. “Yes,” he says, somewhat tightly.
“Ugh. What a turd, Mr. Stark. You’re giving me turd vitamins!” Tony scoffs while Pepper laughs. Peter notices. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”
“You’re not helping me here,” Tony says to her.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, have some thread.”
Tony sighs. “Just stay still for me, okay?”
Peter does. Pepper passes him various supplies and they work together to sew up both ends of the gunshot wound. By the time they’re done, Peter hasn’t moved once, but his eyes are open and he’s frowning.
“How do you feel?”
“Wired,” he says.
“Seriously? Bruce never said anything about the side-effects, but I figured they’d be like normal pain-killers; make you drowsy and all that.”
“No,” Peter sits up quickly and doesn’t even flinch. “I feel like I just got steroids or something. Are you—are you actually telling me that Captain America’s drugs are infused with a stimulant? What, so he can keep fighting even when he’s in the middle of dying?”
Tony blinks. “Well that was smart of dear Banner.”
“Yeah, or insane.” Peter flexes his hands. “I feel like I need to go for a run, or like, break something.”
“Let’s avoid that,” Tony says, pushing him back down. “You need to heal, not mess yourself up even more, understood?”
Peter stares. “Is it normal to see sounds?”
Pepper bursts out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” she says when Tony glares. “Really, I am, I promise. Peter, honey, how about we get you to a bedroom where you can rest up? We’ll call your aunt and explain everything.”
—
Everything is going fine until May asks, “How did you get to the Tower so quick, then?”
Peter blinks. “Hmm? Pardon?”
“If you were at Ned’s,” May says, “how’d you manage to swing all the way across town?”
Peter opens his mouth and closes it. “I, uh… well, funny story, um… I wasn’t actually at Ned’s?”
There’s a pause over the phone. Pepper, who’s holding it, raises an eyebrow. May says: “You told me you were going to Ned’s, Peter.”
His face feels hot. He hopes it isn’t red. Both Pepper and Tony—from the doorway with his hands stuffed in his sweatpant pockets—are staring. It’s almost as bad as if May were really here.
“Well I was going to Ned’s, but then I changed my mind and went somewhere else and oh—look at the time! I think we’re going through a tunnel—”
“Don’t even try to pull that crap! That’s it, I’m coming over there—”
“May,” Peter says, serious now, “you’re in the middle of a shift, there’s people dying. Just—I’m perfectly fine, I took my Captain America drugs and everything is gonna be okay.”
“But you lied to me.”
“No, I changed my mind.”
“And went where?”
“Irrelevant.”
“Peter.”
“May.”
She groans from the other end of the line and demands to speak to Pepper one on one. Tony’s fiancé grins and switches off speaker, before slipping out with a bright laugh to finish off the conversation. Tony stares expectantly. “So where were you?”
“Oh my god, not you too. You know, on second thought, I actually am completely exhausted and—”
“Uh, nope,” Tony flops down onto the bed. “Fess up.”
Peter sighs. He squirms down and covers his pillow with a head. “No.”
Tony joins him under it. “Tell me.”
Peter scowls. He rolls onto his side so they’re facing one another. “I was with my girlfriend.”
“Oooo—”
“Shush! It’s… it’s really not a big deal and I haven’t told May yet because MJ and I haven’t even really talked about it and it all happened super fast and—” he remembers to breathe, “I just… I always tell May everything, you know? But I kind of just felt like… this was something I had to figure out first on my own. Maybe it’s stupid, but I know she’s gonna be super hurt when she finds out it’s been a month and I haven’t said anything—”
“Kid,” Tony cuts in. “Calm down.”
“I’m calm,” Peter promises, because he is. He’s also just incredibly hyper and stressed.
“It’s a normal instinct to want to figure things out and define them before you start announcing them to the world. I get that. But you’re still a kid, Pete, and even if you don’t want people prying into your love life, we still need to know where you are in case something goes wrong.”
Peter harrumphs as he turns away. “There’s a tracker on my phone and my suit. It would be easier to find me than anything else.”
Tony clicks his tongue. “You got a point there.”
“I just wanted time.”
“I know.”
“But I really like her, okay? Like she’s so smart and she’s got this really dark sense of humour and she’s actually kind of terrifying sometimes—”
“Oh, the scary ones are always fun.”
They stay up talking through the night and, when the sun comes up, Pepper joins them with a tray of freshly made blueberry waffles. May arrives around the same time and, looking too tired to be mad, simply drops onto the bed with them and steals what’s left of his food.
—
4.
Peter is on patrol when he hears it:
a soft, quiet yelping coming from somewhere down below the rooftop he’s perched on.
At first he figures he’s imagining things, but then his ears perk again. He leans over the building’s edge to find the source of the noise.
In the dark it’s hard to make anything out, so he climbs slowly down the side of the wall, squinting. There’s another yelp and a low whine, almost pained. Peter zeroes in on the sound and creeps toward a set of dumpsters; they’re so full of trash they’re overflowing, and it’s underneath a broken down cardboard box that he finds it...
A puppy.
Now, Peter is no liar. He’s wanted a dog since he was like, a fetus. The words ‘A dog’ have been on every birthday and Christmas list for as long as he can remember. It’s only recently, in the years since Ben’s death, that he’s pretty much given up—after all, May is so overworked and they can barely afford to feed themselves. How could they afford a pet?
But also…
This is the cutest dog he’s ever seen.
It’s tiny and fluffy and brown and has the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever seen.
Peter kind of just stands there staring like an idiot for a good few seconds and then slowly kneels down. “Um, hi,” he says, in the gentlest voice he can manage. The puppy, who can’t be older than a few weeks and looks completely starved and exhausted, whines in response.
Peter holds out his hand for the dog to sniff. It lifts its head lazily and leans forward, nose twitching and dry. “You need water, huh? Come on, I know a place.”
—
“Shelob,” Tony greets without looking up from whatever project he’s working on. “What can I do for you at… one in the fucking morning?”
“I need your help with something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad or make me get rid of him—”
“Oh, for God’s sake, what have you done now?”
“He was just so helpless and cold and small and…” Peter swallows and reveals the puppy, presently wrapped up in his hoodie. “Meet Nugget.”
Tony’s face is the epitome of Disappointed Dad. He stares, open-mouthed, and after a second his shoulders fall. “Well, fuck.”
Peter snuggles Nugget against his chest and steps closer, but then Tony holds up a hand to stop him. “Nah-ah! Not until that thing gets a flea bath!”
Hope sparks in Peter’s chest. “You mean we can keep him?”
“I mean there’s no way I’m getting near him until I know I won’t break out in hives.”
“That’s not how fleas work.”
“Do I care? No. Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.”
—
“Why do you have flea shampoo?”
Peter’s inquiry is made tentatively. They both have their hands in the sud-filled sink as they systematically wash Nugget’s fur.
“There was… an incident a while ago. I don’t wanna talk about it.”
Peter stares. Blinks. “Okay. Well, I think he’s clean.”
Nugget barks as if in agreement, and so Peter and Tony lift him out of the basin and set him on a pile of no doubt expensive, fluffy white towels. Tony takes the lead after that. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with the yapping, impatient puppy—even when Nugget tries to claw at him and shake himself dry, Tony never loses his cool.
A few minutes later they’re sitting on their stomachs watching Nugget stomp around on a blanket. There’s water in a bowl for him at one corner and a plate of chopped up chicken at another.
“I can’t take him home,” Peter says morosely after a few minutes. “May won’t let me keep him.”
Tony raises an eyebrow. “Where does she even think you are right now?”
“...In my bed.”
“Wow,” Tony says, deadpan. “Okay, well, I most certainly can’t keep him either.”
“What?! Why not?!”
Tony sighs. “I’m Iron Man, if you hadn’t noticed, kiddo—”
“Oh, what, so you’re too tough to look after him?”
“No, I’m too busy. I spend like, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours in a day in my shop and the rest of the time I’m on my knees apologising to Pepper and begging for forgiveness. There’s no time in-between to feed the pup, walk the pup—”
“I could come by,” Peter blurts. “Like, once a day, and I could make sure he’s eaten and play with him and stuff. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger—”
“Except to press ‘purchase’ on my shopping cart full of dog food—”
“Tony,” Peter cuts in, pleading, “please? I can’t just drop him off at some kennel so they can—” he covers the dog’s ears, “so they can euthanize him in a week when no one buys him. He deserves so much better, you know?”
Tony frowns, considering it, and Peter waits with his breath caught in his throat until, “God, fine.”
“Yes!”
“But! But! A pet is a serious responsibility, okay? You might as well be adopting a child—”
“What would you know about raising kids?” Peter asks, only jokingly, but Tony just stares and then, for some reason, smiles.
“You have to make sure he’s happy,” Tony says. “You have to be there for him in whatever way he needs, alright? I’ll set up a pen in the penthouse and you can make sure he works off his energy there, and if I have time I’ll even take you both to the park. And if he ever happens to pee on my carpet, I’m counting on you to clean it up.”
“Don’t you have, like, housekeepers for that sort of thing?”
“Yeah, but this is character building stuff.”
“Ugh, fine, I’ll clean up the pee.”
They continue to iron out the details for a while and bicker over whether Nugget’s last name should be Parker or Stark, and it’s only when Pepper walks in—still in her pajamas, bleary eyed and complaining that they woke her up—that they both decide it should be ‘Potts’.
—
5. (+1)
It starts with a headache.
He’s bent over his desk studying for a Calc test when the throbbing begins. It’s not so bad at first, but after a half hour or so his vision is swimming and he keeps having to take breaks to massage his temples and close his eyes. The equations are all blending together and he can’t think straight anymore.
Peter decides to give up right around then. After all, if he’s not gonna retain any of the information, why bother?
May pokes and prods through dinner. Peter tries to fool her by acting like everything is normal and okay and even manages to make her laugh once or twice.
Inside, dread is coiling through his stomach like an irritated snake. He knows what’s coming next; after all, he doesn’t really get sick anymore, so what else could it be?
Peter tries to sleep but ends up tossing and turning for most of the night. He falls into some kind of half-conscious daze at around four in the morning and rouses about twenty minutes later, soaked with sweat and aching everywhere.
Feeling like he’s gonna vomit, Peter kicks off his blankets and strips the sheets off his bed. He takes his shirt off because the fabric is too abrasive against his skin and it’s like he can feel every fibre tickling against it, grating and chafing. He curls up into a tight ball and covers his ears with his hands to block out the now amplified sounds of the city: car alarms, dogs barking, music playing.
Normally Peter loves the way New York is never silent. Now, he just wishes everyone would shut the fuck up for once.
When he stumbles out of his room a little while later, May is already gone. She’d told him the night before that she had an early shift and for once he’s actually grateful. Haltingly, Peter gets ready for school. He’s already skipped three days this month and if he misses this Calc quiz he’s gonna fucking bomb the class.
May would kill him.
It’s better to suffer a little than die.
Brushing his teeth makes his head spin and the minute he wriggles into his clothes he feels like a caged animal about to claw his skin off. Everything takes so much longer than normal. He doesn’t eat because the mere thought of food makes the back of his throat sting with bile.
On the train, he closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool glass of the window, trying to tune out the constant screeching of the rails. One day, on God, he will make it a personal project to oil every fucking line in the subway.
At his fifth stop, an old lady boards and all the seats are taken.
Peter swallows thickly and stands. Black spots dance in his vision and he grabs onto the overhead bar—something he hasn’t actually needed to use since he was a little kid—and tries not to pass out.
He almost misses the stop to get to school, but slips out at the last second, millimetres away from getting his backpack caught in the doors. Peter is hot all over and lightheaded as he makes his way out of the station. It’s even hotter up above, what with summer coming now and all.
Peter is late and he doesn’t need his watch to tell; Flash’s car is already parked out front instead of zooming through the drop off to run him over (which, hey, silver lining), and the majority of the student body is already inside.
Peter has to stop multiple times on his way to Spanish just to breathe. By the time he gets there he’s at least ten minutes late for roll call.
“Mr. Parker,” his teacher greets, unimpressed. “So glad you could join us.”
Peter makes a noise and takes the proffered quiz. He wonders absently why some people choose to teach. What is it, like, some kind of power trip for them?
He has five minutes to finish the quiz but doesn’t make it past the first question. Ned volunteers to collect them and stops at Peter’s desk while Professor Scott outlines today’s lesson plan.
“Dude,” he whisper-hisses, “you look like complete shit. What on Earth are you doing here right now?”
“Test,” Peter mutters dully, resting his cheek on his hand and closing his eyes. “Here you go. Didn’t finish it.”
Ned takes it carefully, holding it with two fingers like it’s covered in disease. “Do you want me to get the nurse or something?”
Peter hums. “No. Just… headache.”
Slowly Ned backs away. “Um—”
“Mr. Leeds!” Professor Scott says, loudly. Ned jumps. “Is there a problem back there?”
Yes, Peter thinks. You’re the human version of nails on a fucking chalk board. Please, for the love of all that is holy, just start on the vocab.
Only he accidentally says all of that out loud.
The whole class is staring. Flash is slack-jawed. Betty Brant’s eyes are the size of small moons.
“Parker,” Scott grits out—and Peter has denominated him to just Scott now out of reciprocation and spite; “You just earned yourself a shiny new detention. I’d like you to take this slip to the principal’s office. Please.”
Oh, thank God. At least it’ll be quiet there.
Peter stands and brushes past Ned and it literally feels like flames of hell are licking against his skin. He almost vomits. This is decidedly not good.
He takes the paper. “Gladly, good sir.”
When he’s gone, there’s an outburst of muttering that his enhancements let him hear. It only makes the overload worse. Peter covers his ears with his hands again and, overcome with a sudden wave of vertigo, ducks into the bathroom.
He barely makes it to the toilet before emptying his stomach of last night’s food.
Peter sags against the wall, panting. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for the world to stop spinning. About ten minutes later, the smell of jasmine shampoo—normally welcome—causes him to lean over and retch again.
MJ pokes her head inside the unlocked stall. “Jesus,” she whispers. The second her hands touch his body he flinches and she immediately retracts them. “Fuck, sorry. Ned said you wigged out in Spanish. I looked for you in the Principal's office but you weren’t there and... What’s—what’s wrong? I thought you couldn’t even get sick.”
“Bad headache,” he mutters, spitting into the toilet. It’s easier than explaining about his freakish mutations and how they sometimes go completely haywire, leaving him on edge and nauseous and irritable.
MJ grabs him some toilet paper to wipe his mouth with. “Did you take anything?”
“Pain meds don’t work on me.”
“Does May know? You should have called in.”
“Couldn’t. Can’t miss my test.”
She sighs. “Your final is like fifty percent of your grade and you could pass it with your eyes closed. You can miss your test, you’re just afraid of getting anything lower than an A.”
Peter is silent. “You got me there.”
MJ’s hand twitches like she wants to touch him but knows she can’t. “You need to go home. Lie down, get some rest.”
“May is working,” Peter says, “and if I have to take the subway again right now I’ll die. I really will. It’s so—the smell and the noise and I can’t sit down and—”
“Give me your phone.”
“What?”
“Just give it.”
She’s holding her hand out for it and giving him a no-nonsense expression that kind of reminds Peter of Pepper Potts on a rampage. He’s seen what happens to Tony when he crosses her, so he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over.
“Hold on.”
She stands and leaves. Peter closes his eyes again. He tunes out her conversation because if he doesn’t, he’s absolutely gonna vomit again and nobody wants that.
MJ slips back inside the stall. “Okay, solved. Do you still feel like you’re gonna vomit?”
Peter thinks about it. “No.”
“Good. We’re gonna go to the nurse, okay?”
“Oh boy.”
—
Tony Stark walks into Peter’s school and finds the hallways empty. The classroom doors are shut and the muted sounds of teachers lecturing are the only signs that anyone is here at all.
He finds Peter in the infirmary, sitting on the examination table with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.
He’s at his side in an instant. “Kid?”
It’s surprise that gets Peter’s eyes open, but the little spider baby immediately regrets it. He flinches and sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony,” he whispers, like the name is all he can manage and the questions will have to wait for later.
Tony looks him over. There are no obvious injuries. The girl on the phone had said it was just a headache, but Tony is way more experienced with Peter’s brand of bullshit and knows there’s usually something else going on beneath the surface.
“I’m gonna go talk to the nurse and then get you out of here, okay?”
A nod.
It’s always a bad thing when he doesn’t argue. Peter Parker would start a fight about what kind of pizza to order, even if you suggest the kind he really wants, just to be a stubborn little shit about things.
Tony slips out of the exam room. The nurse looks up when he enters her office. “Oh my—Mr. Stark?!”
“Yes, hello,” Tony takes a cautious step forward as she stands. He doesn’t bother to sit. “I’m here to pick up the little gremlin in there.”
Her face flushes. “I didn’t know you’d been called, I—I figured I would just let him wait it out, you know? He didn’t want to be touched, so it was hard to figure out what was up and—so it’s real? About the internship?”
“Of course. Why would he lie?”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. “Well… you know how kids can be.”
“Do I?”
She doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.
Tony sighs. “Look, Nurse—uh, Timms—Nurse Timms, can I please just sign the kid out and take him home? He’s clearly in pain here.”
She starts rifling through her desk for a form. “I mean, I can admit you to take him home, but I really suggest you talk with the principal first—Peter was given a detention before he was brought to my ward, see, and I was—” she shakes her head. “I thought he might be faking.”
Tony stares without blinking for a whole five seconds and then, “Detention? For what?”
“I heard he bad-mouthed a teacher or something. But to be fair, Professor Scott isn’t exactly what I’d call patient.”
“Well, be that as it may,” Tony takes the form she hands him to sign, “my kid doesn’t fake. He has a condition, see. Gets uh… overloaded. Sounds, smells, it can be too much for him. Probably why he snapped.”
“That… that makes sense.”
“Yes,” he says succinctly, and hands the paper back. “You’d know that if you bothered to ask. Anyway, I’ll be going. Thanks for the help, Nurse Times.”
“Uh, it’s—it’s Timms—”
The door shuts behind him.
—
MJ was forced to go back to class. She’d argued and protested but Nurse Timms was insistent. So, MJ had relented. She’d pressed the lightest of kisses on his forehead and it surprisingly hadn’t felt that bad, and then she’d gone.
Tony Stark had shown up about twenty minutes later and it’s just when Peter’s starting to think it was all just a vivid hallucination that the smell of coffee and motor oil fills his senses again. It’s overwhelming but not debilitating.
“Kiddo,” Tony whispers, “is it okay to touch you?”
Peter cracks an eye. Everything is bright but Tony’s suit is mercifully black, so he focuses on that. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna move.”
“Well I gotta get you outta here somehow.”
“But my detention—”
“I already got you out of it,” Tony says breezily. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Tony,” Peter says, cheeks flushing. “You can’t just bribe my principal into—”
“I didn’t bribe anyone. I just explained the situation and besides, Morita’s an old friend.”
Peter closes his eyes again as he frowns. “You’re friends with my principal?”
“I’m a benefactor for your school, too,” Tony says. “But don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”
Something shifts in the air. Tony is sitting now. “Happy’s waiting outside,” he says, “but whenever you’re ready.”
Peter thinks about it for a few seconds and decides it’s gonna have to happen at some point, anyway. Might as well rip the band-aid off now. Slowly he takes a deep breath and manages to sit up with Tony’s help. The older man tries to avoid touching him as much as possible, but surprisingly enough the weight of his hand against Peter’s spine isn’t crushing or aggravating. It doesn’t hurt.
“Baby steps,” Tony says softly. “We’ll take you out the side door, okay?”
Even getting to the door is slow going but Tony doesn’t seem to mind. Right before they open it, Tony stops and pulls his sunglasses off. “Here, try these.”
Peter puts them on. He feels ridiculous because like, they work on Tony who was literally born in the seventies, but Peter really doesn’t dig the groovy shades. Regardless they’re better than nothing and even help a little.
The halls are empty again. Most of the students will be in the gym right about now, or the cafeteria for lunch. They don’t run into anybody on the way out and as soon as they’re in the back of the car, Peter sags against Tony’s side. He feels like he’s just run ten miles.
“Drive, Hogan,” Tony says, and then the partition glides up.
For a few seconds it’s almost completely quiet. Noise suppression tech, Peter realises, and he feels like he could cry from relief. For the first time in hours there’s just… nothing. No traffic, no dozens of students talking at once. The air conditioning unit is filtered, so he’s not being attacked with the smell of body odour and clashing perfume scents and Axe cologne. There’s just Tony and beautiful, amazing, showstopping silence.
Tony shifts a little. “Better?”
Peter nods, figuring it’s still probably not safe to speak.
“We’ll be there soon,” Tony says softly.
—
Peter doesn’t remember much after the car ride. He can vaguely recall protesting getting out of the Audi, and he remembers Tony assuring him that everything would be okay, and the next thing he knows he’s lying on his back in an utterly dark bedroom. The walls are insulated just like the car had been, so there’s just no sound, and the bed sheets probably have the highest thread count of all time.
Something shifts beside Peter and he realises Tony is there, feeling his forehead.
“What—?”
“Oh, hey,” Tony greets. “I think you might’ve blacked out there. All the noise hit you at once when we got out of the car and you just…”
“I fainted?”
Tony snorts softly. “Relax. It happens to the best of us. How do you feel, Webster?”
Peter hums. “Bad.”
“Let’s try a scale of one to ten.”
“Okay,” Peter says. “Ten.” Tony lets out a little grunt at that and so Peter elaborates, “It was at like, a twenty this morning, so.”
“Ah, I see.” Tony’s grip shifts to Peter’s wrist to measure his pulse. “This okay?”
“It’s fine.”
And it really is. He doesn’t feel like burning his skin off or anything. Tony’s hands are just warm.
“Any idea what brought this on?”
Peter shifts a little. “I uh… haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.” He swallows. “Like, at all.”
“And how long’s that been going on for?”
“I don’t know. On and off for a few weeks, I guess.”
“Jesus,” Tony sighs and pulls his hand away. He rakes it through his hair. “Kiddo, what have we said about communication? Does May know?”
“....No?”
There’s a long pause where Tony just kind of sits there thinking, like he wants to say whatever comes next carefully. He massages his temples and then: “Alright, scooch over.”
“What?”
“Make room for me.”
Peter blinks and then, tentatively, scoots over a little to allow Tony room to lie down. The older man does, arching his back a little and grunting in pain because he’s like, ancient. They’re not touching, but very slowly Peter starts inching closer again. Eventually he works up the courage to try resting his head on Tony’s chest, which is terrifying not only because it’s Tony Stark, but also because he’d rather not have his brain implode.
Nothing happens. “Your fabric softener must be like, super expensive,” he whispers, because this is actually better than the sheets.
Tony snorts. “I’ll ask Pep about it.”
Peter makes a noncommittal noise and before he knows it, his eyes are closing. For once they actually feel heavy, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s heart beat is soothing, dependable.
Tony’s hands brush lightly over Peter’s hair and then thread through it. “Too much?”
“No,” Peter promises. “Good.”
And so Tony’s fingers run through his curls over and over, gently, lightly. His thumb sweeps over Peter’s cheek once, too, and then he starts muttering in Italian.
Peter cracks an eye. “Are you telling me your grocery shopping list?”
Tony laughs a little. “My mom used to do it for me,” he says. “Something about just hearing her speak the language made me feel… relaxed, I guess. Didn’t matter what she was saying.”
Peter smiles and wraps an arm around Tony’s torso. “Tell me something else.”
“You wanna hear about the time I almost blew up a Chem lab?”
“Uh, duh.”
So Tony launches into it, speaking in a low voice and absently twisting one of Peter’s curls around his finger. It feels nice and the headache is fading fast.
Peter sleeps.
#marvel#irondad#peter parker#tony stark#my writing#friendly neighborhood fic exchange#may parker#pepper potts#michelle jones#spideychelle#pepperony#nugget the dog#insomnia
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𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 ▼
((originally posted on my Wattpad, cinnamon_opal))
★ Warnings: Some angst, SMUT!!!
★Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmAZWKdCvmII
(Wanna Be Adored by The Stone Roses)
masterlist
𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑺𝑬𝑬𝑰𝑵𝑮 you like this. Tears streaming, hair messed up from how many times you've run your hands through it, and your body quivering in dread. You were so lost. All you could think about is what you did wrong. You two stood in the kitchen for an hour now.
"What did I do, Timothée?" You sobbed, trying to wipe away tears, new ones replacing the old, "Why?"
"I'm sorry, I just...," he hesitated, "You just can't keep up with my life. I'm always away and you said it yourself, you want to see me more but you can't,"
"So that's what this is about? Tim, you've been in so many legendary movies to supply your life of luxury for at least another 30 years!" You were now angry, your emotions blinding you, "You're breaking up with your fiancé for a career that's plummeting??"
"Excuse me, plummetting? What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Timothée paused and walked towards you and got so close, it frightened you as you bit the inside of your cheek, wishing you could turn back time.
"Everyone knows that your career is dropping. Your golden days are over, Tim. But you can't let go of that! Everybody knows it." You were now fighting back, raising your voice, "Maybe if you actually went on social media a little more, you could find article upon article talking about how everything is over. The roles you're booking are shit." You poked your finger at him angrily, an offended expression crossing Timothée's face.
"What the fuck do you know? I am one of the biggest names in Hollywood right now. This is what I've always wanted. You want me to throw away my dreams because you want to pump out a few babies and get married? I'm not meant for the white picket fence life that you dream of having!" his voice raised as well, his bare feet pacing across the wooden floor of the kitchen area.
You were now livid. You stomped towards the bedroom, wiping away the tears, no longer feeling like crying.
"Where are you going?" timothée asked annoyed.
"Stay there." You hissed in response, opening the door to your shared room and going right over to your bedside table and opened the top drawer and grabbed a magazine. A Hollywood gossip magazine. You had been meaning to bring this up for a few days.
You walked quickly back into the kitchen, slamming the magazine on the counter across from the one he was leaning against.
"Okay then, Mr. Hotshot, what the fuck is that?" You asked pointing to the cover of the magazine. It showed an image of Timothée with his arm around another girl - a pornstar - as they exited a limousine, the city behind them looking to be Los Angeles.
"Is that what you were doing on your 'work trip'?" You air-quoted, poison seeping from your mouth.
"Babe, you look way too much into this kinda garbage, you really believe this shit?" He asked, taking the magazine and slamming it back down.
"Then who the fuck is she, Timothée??!!" You were boiling over now, Tim seemingly doing the same thing. "WHO?" you pushed him back. You continued to push him until his back hit the counter edge.
"WE FUCKED, OKAY?" He yelled at you, pushing you gently back, "IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED TO HEAR?"
Your world stopped. Everything felt unreal as you felt as if a million pounds was just added to your chest, feeling as if you couldn't breathe. The tears began to spill from your eyes again as your eyes met his. His were also brimming with tears. You two stood in silence, staring at each other, not even knowing what the other would say next.
"Did you really?" You finally broke the silence, your eye contact breaking as you looked at the floor.
There was a long pause, "Yes." He finally said.
You sink down on your knees, not even knowing what to say.
"It didn't mean anything, I swear-"
"Would you have ever told me?" You interrupted him, "Or would you have taken it to your grave?"
He stayed silent.
"Then why Timothée?" You were so heartbroken that your mind was going fuzzy, "Then why did you fuck a PORNSTAR??"
You couldn't help it, but you felt a wave of self-consciousness. He made love to her over you.
"Because you weren't there." He replied, guilt seeping from his words.
"Wow." Was all you could say. You stood up, brushing yourself off.
You then went back into the bedroom, grabbed a duffle bag from the closet, packing him some clothes, phone charger, toothbrush, etc. Storming back into the kitchen, you slammed down the duffle bag onto the ground.
"I want you out." Your eyes tearing up and your voice cracking, "Have fun with your porno slut, you asshole." You stood over the bag, Timothée staring at you in disbelief.
"Is this what you really want?"
"Just get the fuck out of my apartment. I'll get you the rest of your shit later. I just want you out." You were full-on sobbing at this point.
He stared at you blankly.
"Did I fucking stutter?" You cried, picking up the back and shoving to him, taking his arm, and dragging him to the door, "Get the fuck out!!" You screamed, shoving him out into the apartment complex's hallway and slamming the door behind you, your back against the door.
You sobbed harder, sinking down, your heart shattered, feeling so guilty for everything although you did nothing wrong. What the hell were you going to do now?
It was several weeks since you kicked Tim out. The tabloids were everywhere, people wanting answers and interviews with you to find out what happened. Thank god Tim still respected your privacy, because you were never going to talk about that kind of thing with the press. He had sent a friend of his to pick up his things, trying not to talk to you. When he was sober at least. At least 4 times a week, Timothée would call you laving drunk voicemails, pleading you to talk to him and allow him to explain.
Just like tonight.
You sat on the couch watching a show in your sweatpants and sweatshirt, trying to pull your mind away from the fact that the person you wanted most wasn't there with you.
Suddenly your phone rang, making you jump, reaching over to pick it up. The caller ID was as to be expected.
You pushed the green button, pressing the phone up to your ear. You were silent for a second until you spoke up.
"What do you want, Timothée?" You muttered, just loud enough for him to hear and for the phone microphone to pick up.
"Baby?" you heard shuffling on the other line, "Baby, h-hey...," he said softly. Just as you had expected. Drunk.
"Do you need something?"
"I just... wanted to call. To just hear your voice. I just... god, I love you. I'm so sorry, baby, I-" he sounded so sad.
"I'm gonna stop you right there, Timothée." You sat up on your couch, "You say that you love me... just tell me that when you're sober, okay?"
"Baby, please don't go," he whined, desperate for a simple conversation.
"I have to. Call me in the morning."
"No, no, don't you dare hang up this call," he would say through his teeth, getting angry.
"Goodbye, Tim."
"NO, LISTEN, DON'T-" he was cut off from you pressing the red button that hangs up the call.
You sighed, not in the mood for the TV show that was playing anymore. You stood up, turning the TV off and walking back into your bedroom, slumping down on the bed. You pulled the covers over you as tears began to sting your eyes the more you thought about the conversation you were just having. How empty your apartment felt after he was no longer there. Fuck.
Soon enough, you fell into pain-numbing sleep, escaping from what seemed like an endless spiral of negative feelings.
Bang.
The first time you heard it, you were still in a sleep-induced state, thinking it was nothing.
BANG.
Okay, it was definitely something. You slowly sat up out of bed, your bare feet touching the carpet and patting over and out into the kitchen area, hearing the noise again.
"Open up, baby, please, come onnnnn, just open the doooor," a voice on the other side of the door. You didn't even need any hints to know who was on the outside.
"Open the fucking door, babe, I know you're in there," he raised his voice, banging on the door more. Now you had to open up the door before he woke up all your neighbors.
You turned the knob, opening the door a crack. Immediately the smell of alcohol permitted your senses, almost making you gag.
"What is it, Tim."
"Baby, please let me in, I just wanna talk, please baby, I need to talk to you,"
Jesus, he looked like a mess. His hair was messed up to all hell, bags under his eyes, a dirty sweatshirt and black sweatpants. He was pale and looked ill. That's when you spotted the open wound on his forehead. It looked like something you got when you got a bottle hit over your head. You didn't even want to know.
You sighed, thinking you were going to regret this later. You opened the door, pulling him inside.
"We're going to the bathroom," you said, his hand holding yours as you guided him to the hall, his body stumbling back and forth, trying to regain balance. You opened the bathroom door, sitting him on the counter.
A few seconds later, you got some disinfectant and a few other things to help make him look less...that. You took off his hoodie that had its fair amount of stains on it. After you had finally finished, you ordered him to take a shower to help him sober up at least a little bit.
You sat there reading a book on the bed, waiting for him to find his way out of the bathroom. You heard the bathroom door open, Tim walking out with sweatpants he had left at the apartment. You had put his other clothes in the wash.
"Hey, uh... I'm done with the shower," he said, your gaze going to him and away from the page of your book.
You nodded your head in confirmation, Tim smiling, trying to act like there wasn't anything wrong.
"You can spend the night on the couch if you want, just until you sober up." you offered.
Timothée stopped and smiled, you could have sworn you saw him tear up, "Even when people are so cruel to you, you always had kindness in your heart for them."
It astounded him that even after everything he'd done, everything he'd said, you still went out of your way to care for him.
"Words can't describe how sorry I am, I...," this time his tears were threatening to fall.
As much as you hated to admit it, you still loved him and cared for him. You still had a soft spot for him, despite the fact he had done things to you that should never be done to another human being. You could see that he was having a hard time without you. He was a mess, and you could see it when he walked in.
You closed your book and sat up off the bed, opening your arms, motioning him to embrace you. He gave a weak smile, tears finally falling as he walked over to you, taking a seat next to you on the bed as you wrapped your arms around him, his head burying itself into your neck as he began to cry, your hand rubbing his back.
His nose grazed your neck as he lifted his head to give a small kiss to your neck, the pecks continuing to progress, soon turning into passionate kisses along your throat, making you squirm. You couldn't lie, you missed moments like these. Intimate moments.
"Timothée," you started, not wanting to take advantage of his tipsy state.
"Shh, baby, just let me make you feel good," he continued, going down a little lower, nipping and sucking on your collar bone.
"Timothée, you're drunk," you pushed him back slightly, his eyes meeting yours.
"I've wanted nothing more than to come over and show you how much you meant to me. I know I fucked up, and I want nothing more than to take everything back. But without you, I'm so lost. I can't think. You're my everything," he paused, taking your hand in his, "Just please, let me show you how much I need you,"
You nodded your head slowly and quietly. His lips attached to yours, a feeling you had been longing for ever since you shoved him out the door. He began to undress you, throwing your shirt to the side, exposing your breasts making him curse under his breath, his mouth attaching to them almost immediately, swirling his tongue around them, making you release an erotic mewl, the sounds only driving him to kiss down your stomach.
Once he reached the hem of your leggings, he put his fingers underneath the waistband, pulling down both your underwear and pants in one swift movement, making you gasp as he discarded of them quickly, his long fingers grasping the inside of your thighs, gently prodding them apart, completely exposing you.
He slowly leaned his head down to where you wanted him most, his tongue giving you a rough kitten lick right on your clit, making you whine in anticipation. You loved how he knew your body so well, even better than you did.
Your hands found their way to his scalp, running your fingers through his hair, beckoning him to continue. He then took your small hands from his hair and put them in his hands as he began to go down on you, licking and sucking your pussy, making you moan out and grab his hands tighter, his thumb sub-consciously smoothing over the back of your hand, making your legs tingle and your fingers twitch.
"Fuck, Tim," you sighed, his tongue finding its way inside you, making you bite your lip.
"You taste so good, baby," he groaned, the vibrations making you moan out, your head burying itself in the back into the pillows as your eyes began to roll back.
He then detached one of his hands from yours, inserting two fingers, replacing his tongue, making you moan louder, a familiar knot beginning to form, your pussy tingling as he continued to work you, your mind going fuzzy.
"FucK - g-gonna... cum-," you gasped out in parts, Timothée now inserting his fingers quicker and quicker.
Your legs began to shake as you began to release, Timothée taking out his fingers, watching you - marveling - in the sight that he caused. Your back was arched, your hair slightly messy, lips swollen, cum gushing out of your entrance. Your mouth hung open as loud primal moans escaped your mouth, making you feel amazing.
Once you had calmed down, he moved up, pressing a loving kiss to your lips as you kissed back, your hands once again going to his hair, his body pressed up against yours. He then swung his leg over your body so he was straddling you, his head going down and sucking your neck as he lines himself up.
He pauses, looking into your eyes, "I missed you, baby, I missed you so fucking much," he mutters, beginning to insert himself, making you grab onto his arms.
When he fully inserted himself, you let out a small exhale, his lips meeting yours as be gave you time to adjust. It had been a while.
After he paused, he waited for your nod to continue, which you anxiously allowed, determined to have him make you reach nirvana. You were's disappointed, his thrusts gaining speed quickly, more erotic mewls and groans erupting from your chest, only egging him on to continue... to go faster.
"Fuck, I missed you," he breathed, "I missed this tight fuckin pussy. My tight fuckin pussy. Nobody can make me feel the way you do, baby."
His words mixed with the knot once again tightening in your stomach was almost too much, the need for a climax almost painful, as you felt him get close as well. Your core clenched, making his bite his lip, his head going to the side of your neck, going fast as he could manage, which made the feelings in your pussy all the more mind-numbing.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm gonna cum," you whimpered out, making him groan in confirmation.
"Me too baby,"
Suddenly, you felt your legs twitch, your body seizing up so much your muscles felt week, your eyes rolling back as you saw stars in your eyelids. You reached your rapture with complete and utter bliss, Timothée climaxing inside of you, knowing you were on birth control.
He helped you ride out your orgasm as well as his own. Your head was so clouded at this point, you didn't even know where to begin. He pulled out, laying down next to you, pulling you close as your body shook slightly from the leftover pleasure still coursing through your body.
"We don't have to talk about this now," he started.
"Shut up, don't ruin the moment," you snapped with a smile on your face.
"I love you," he said gently, his hands playing with your hair.
"Goodnight, Timothée."
#timothee chalamet#timothée smut#timothee chalamet smut#fanfiction#cmbyn#timothee x reader#romance#cheating#wattpad lol
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TLOU2: Abby
MAJOR SPOILERS
So, I’ve been doing a lot of shitting on the game and I stand by it, but I want to get into how I feel about Abby. I don’t actually hate her, but I despise how the game handled her.
Lemme start by saying, when her character intro was dropped I was hyped as hell. Who is this buff mystery woman? I know a lot of fans were upset to not have Ellie/Joel content but I was intrigued by this trailer. Obviously this woman must be important. I thought she was going to be Anna, and imagined a thousand scenarios where we got flashbacks of Anna, Anna was possibly alive and that created conflict with Joel and Ellie and got into “what really makes a family” or something. Super pumped.
I also was more excited immediately recognizing Laura Bailey’s voice. I am a massive fan. Importantly, I also adored her as Nadine Ross in Uncharted. Naughty Dog gave us a buff, kind of scary woman antagonist who kicks your ass tremendously and the whole time I fuckin loved her. She scared me but I thought she was so cool, and was so excited for her to be in Lost Legacy. Same game company, same actress, but they fucked up big time in The Last Of Us Part 2.
I think perhaps the biggest roadblock to getting people to like her is the story order, as I and many many others have talked about, but the problems also extend beyond that. Giving us time to get to know Abby before she kills Joel would have been the most important first step but the way the game tries to FORCE you to like her is a massively glaring issue. Especially with how the game ends, her story is riddled with hypocrisy.
Every things the game punishes Ellie for, Abby is guilty of. ND uses this to attempt to convince the player that Abby is like Ellie, but she does not suffer the same fate, and the parallels are not subtle enough to be clever, just ham-fisted. Abby would have offered herself up for a cure? Ellie also probably would, but ELLIE didn’t get to make that choice. (Side note: Abby’s dad Jerry is incredibly unlikeable for me. They push a scene of him going out of his way to save a Zebra to humanize him, then he’s on board with sacrificing a child who cannot make this choice herself, pressures Marlene into agreeing, and then has no idea why Marlene would want to inform Joel? Fuck this guy so hard.)
Two flashback scenes do a shit job of being a parallel in the lighter-moment relationships between the dad/daughter pairs. In a scene with Joel and Ellie, Joel incorrectly guesses Ellie is into Jesse. It’s funny because we the audience know that she is into Dina, and I wrote it off as oh, silly clueless dad Joel. But in the Zebra sequence, Jerry correctly guesses that Abby is into Owen. It almost felt like the game was trying to suggest that Jerry and Abby knew one another better than Ellie and Joel do. My found family vs bio family issues with that idea aside, if it’s true, it’s not like we got to see any development between Jerry and Abby to give a single fuck about these people over Ellie and Joel, ESPECIALLY after Joel’s brutal death.
Now, for Jerry’s death, the performance was good, and I tried my hardest to be sympathetic. A young girl lost her father and possibly friends in that hospital fight. That’s awful. If I could pretend like I hadn’t seen Joel die, (or if that was how the story order played) I would feel bad for her. What happened to her is horrible and tragic.
The next issue is the death of Abby’s friends. Two main issues for sympathy: story order, the context of their deaths. Learning about Nora or Mel or Owen after they’ve died already makes it a challenge to feel something for them, and we spend so little time with them that I genuinely forgot their names pretty quickly. But worse is how their deaths play out. All of them fight Ellie. Ellie did not go out of her way to kill them, she wanted Abby, not them. The woman with the headphones (see how little I remember names?) understandably tried to fight to get free. Don’t blame her, don’t really mourn her either.
Mel and Owen are rightfully not trusting Ellie, and try to fight to get free because they think they will die either way. Can’t really blame them for fighting to get away, but I also can’t blame Ellie for having to kill them either. We the audience already know that Mel is pregnant, but Ellie doesn’t, and by putting Mel in a jacket that covers her belly, the game makes sure Ellie doesn’t know until she’s already dead. Again, Ellie isn’t given a choice, this time where she could have tried harder to spare Mel for the baby. As a result, she feels like a monster.
The one friend death that hit more like I think it intended was Nora, but probably not for the reasons ND intended. Nora insults Joel to Ellie and I don’t blame Ellie for reacting with anger. Super fucked up, puts Nora in a greater chance to get killed, just to hurt Ellie. I wanted to kill Nora. That being said, catching up to Nora as she’s choking on spores was not how I expected it to go. I commend Nora for defending her friend (Abby) by not revealing her location. But I also don’t blame Ellie for trying to force Nora to talk. Ellie swinging with tears in her eyes, practically pleading with Nora to tell her without needing to cause pain, is more humanizing than Abby, who was seemingly unresponsive to Ellie’s sobs while killing Joel. Ellie feels like a monster here, Abby does not. More than the idea of torture what doesn’t sit right with me about Nora is not Ellie’s decision, but that ND cast a lot of minorities into roles that face the most gruesome violence and deaths, often and usually for the advancement of a white person’s story.
On the flip side, we have Ellie’s friends. We have Jesse, a funny and charming character that provides some light moments and good banter with Ellie. We know him, we like him, we have grown attached to him (I know his fucking name) and then he is killed pretty dismissively, again as a minority prop to someone’s story, (Don’t even get me started on Dina). Jesse is running into a room, gets shot suddenly, we see a kinda gorey shot of his bloody face wound. It’s shocking, and there is no room to mourn because we immediately go back to playing as Abby and I’m supposed to feel bad for her after she killed her SECOND major character. No way.
In this lengthy flashback as Abby, many of her friends are unlikeable, especially Manny. When their friend Danny is shown in the body bag I was searching my memory for if he was one that I killed cause I couldn’t remember. I already know these people die, and often die after hurting or insulting Ellie and Joel, so I’m not quick to support them. Some of these characters shit-talk Joel and say they wish worse had happened to him. I don’t know any of these people long enough to feel things from their perspective.
A part that really sticks out for the hypocrisy is before you meet Isaac, when you’re in the apartments where several Scars are held prisoner. We know that the WLF and Scars are at war, but that I don’t know why, mixed with the fact that I don’t give enough of a shit about people on either side, makes it hard to care. I see them similarly to Hunters vs FEDRA. Don’t really like either of you, so knock yourselves out. The image of Scars tied up in cages and in obvious torture rooms was already not a great way to win me over OR give me a good side of Abby, but when Abby delivers the line suggesting she’d want to torture these people, you continue to lose me. Ellie is riddled with guilt, Abby does not seem to be, and talks sadistically about the Scars. Even if you want to suggest this is a parallel to Joel, the way he speaks of his atrocities is ALSO riddled with guilt and self-disgust. Perhaps Ellie’s most sadistic points are in gameplay when taking people out and she insults them, but these scenes ALWAYS have these people attack Ellie first and defend herself. I’d call them fuckers too.
They do all this, and try to SHOVE in moments obviously there to wink wink nudge me to like Abby, and they don’t work. I’ll be honest, in game 1, i didn’t immediately like Ellie. I could see where the story was going and wasn’t going to like her just because they thought I should. The pacing allowed me to come to like her on my terms. It was just the two of us all game so I had plenty of time to like her. By Bill’s town I came to really like her, and by the end of the game, she became one of my favorite characters of any piece of media.
The game gave me no time to like Abby, and moments I did kind of like her, they slapped me in the face with an obvious device meant to make me like her, and it isolated me further. The whole game made me go “yeah, yeah I get it.” You know when Manny tries to get Abby and Mel to be on good terms and he’s just way too obvious about it? I feel like Manny is Neil (and yeah the posts about their similarity is not lost on me). ND doesn’t let me grow to like these characters without this ever-present 4th-wall loom of “Do you like Abby yet? See, she’s like Ellie.”
I was very excited for this character, I was excited for Laura, I was excited for a character with “unconventional” proportions (I’m also a slut for ladies with big muscles, so there’s that), and I’m just left disappointed. I feel bad for Laura, I feel bad for what Abby could have been. Done right, she would have been a compelling character, but ND fucked her over almost as much as Ellie and Joel.
#the last of us part 2#the last of us 2#the last of us spoilers#tlou2 spoilers#tlou 2 spoilers#the last of us 2 spoilers#the last of us part 2 spoilers#tlou2#tlou 2
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