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#dig a grave to dig out a ghost
translations-by-aiimee · a month ago
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Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 33
Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼
Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 33
His curses and sobs were cut off by Xiao Yu when his cold tongue pushed into his mouth with disciplinary-like roughness and almost crazy possessiveness, deepening the kiss. A whole night of this stifling and domineering ghost left Lin Yan completely enraged. His brain was blank under the effect of alcohol and it left room for Xiao Yu to grab his chin and slip his tongue into his mouth.
The kiss was so intense that he couldn't even get a breath in. Lin Yan roughly shook his head to shake him off, but the ghost didn't leave him any room to move, and he held him tightly in his lap to the point that he couldn't escape. All his emotions were magnified from the alcohol and the tears from his sobs and curses were still on his cheeks, drying into cold streaks.
"Put me down. . ." After the kiss, Lin Yan sat on his lap and whimpered: "Let go."
"You're a fucking jealous husband. I just wanted to hold onto some memories. You owe me! Why should I always have to listen to you? This is my home, my home!"
Xiao Yu looked at the person in his arms dumbfounded. The alcohol stained his cheeks with a flush of redness. He was clearly using all his strength to break free, but his head was softly pillowed on his shoulders. Lin Yan's face was always cycling through several emotions when he faced him; fear, resistance, gentleness, trust, and even adoration like he was a small animal. But he had never been like this, leaning in his arms like a child, crying and screaming at him.
"Little shrew." Xiao Yu sighed. He reached under Lin Yan's knees and moved him to the sofa. Lin Yan wobbled and stood up to leave, but he couldn't make it two steps before he lost his balance and fell down. He kneeled on the ground and kept nuzzling his head into the cushion.
"You're the fucking shrew. . ." Lin Yan murmured, half-conscious. The effects of the alcohol were so strong that he felt his thoughts were getting more and more distorted. He couldn't even remember what had just happened. In the chaos, he felt a pair of hands holding his waist from behind, a force dragging him back towards the couch.
Lin Yan twisted his body dissatisfiedly. His fingers clung to the sofa cushion, his head arched under the pillow: "Don't. . . don't bother me. I want to sleep. I'll make you leave if you bother me again. . ."
"Go back to bed." Xiao Yu touched Lin Yan's back, continuing to hook his waist and lift him up. Lin Yan muttered, annoyed, like a lazy couch potato.
"Are you going to kneel here all night?"
Lin Yan hummed. He hugged the cushion and closed his eyes contentedly.
"Get up." Xiao Yu's expression changed. He kneeled behind Lin Yan and wrapped his arms around his waist, wrenching his shoulders to pick him up. The feeling of his back being close to someone made Lin Yan feel incredibly at ease, so he continued to lean back, his rear end resting on a hard object. Lin Yan let out a yawn and nuzzled back in a daze.
The arms around his waist tightened, and the person behind him gently trembled. His lips pressed against Lin Yan's ear, and he slowly sucked on his earlobe. Lin Yan couldn't suppress a shudder when he reached the most sensitive area. His fingers unconsciously squeezed the sofa tighter. He tried to lean forward to avoid him, but the hardness behind him intensified, and the sound of breathing next to his ears became slightly anxious.
"Are you going to sleep?" Xiao Yu's voice was faint.
"Yeah..." Lin Yan moaned lowly from his throat. The top few buttons popped open in the scuffle, exposing a large expanse of neck and shoulder. Lin Yan turned his head and pressed the side of his face into the cushion, closing his eyes tightly. His trembling eyelashes in the dark blue nightlight presented a strange charm. His lips were slightly open like they couldn't stay shut, but also like it was an invitation.
"Xiao Yu . . ."
The soft exclamation made the person behind him feel like an electric shock had jolted him. He fiercely kissed the nape of Lin Yan's neck. The hands that were holding his waist moved to his torso to stroke his chest, rubbing the small dots on his chest through the shirt. They were originally flat, you could barely feel the bulge. After repeated stroking, they rigidly popped, pecking at Xiao Yu’s fingers, the slight fiddling forcing a gasp out of Lin Yan. His words were muffled with his panting: "I'm going to sleep. . . I'm. . . Don't touch, don't touch that. . ."
"It's late." Xiao Yu said coldly. He pushed Lin Yan's shirt up, their bodies pressed together, teasing the hard nubs on his chest. Lin Yan bit his lip, breathing more and more heavily, twisting his body to try and escape. This position got him more entangled in Xiao Yu's arms. With a slight movement, he rubbed against the hard object between his hips, and the person behind him pressed him tighter against him as if being stimulated.
"It's so hot. . ." Lin Yan's voice was quiet. Trembling, he stroked the back of Xiao Yu's hand. He stroked his slender fingers, skimming around his flat, smooth nails. His finger met the edge of his erect nipples, and his whole body shuddered.
"You like to do this yourself? Huh?" Xiao Yu grabbed Lin Yan's hand. Despite his resistance, he grabbed his fingers and rubbed them into the hard nubs. The other hand pulled off his shirt, exposing his large shoulders and wheat-coloured back. Xiao Yu froze for a moment, then buried his head in Lin Yan's neck and kissed him.
Lin Yan buried his head in the sofa cushion. Xiao Yu sucked the skin from his ear all the way down to his shoulder blade. A wave of heat rushed to his lower abdomen and his skinny jeans got uncomfortably tight. The feelings in his chest kept growing. Xiao Yu refused to let him go. Lin Yan tried to withdraw his hand several times but was repeatedly blocked, roughly pinching his fingers against the most sensitive area.
"Stop." The deep sense of shame and unbearable pleasure made Lin Yan cry: "Please, don't touch that. . . let go. . ."
Instinctively, he knew what was happening and immediately sensed the danger. He began to resist, but his so-called resistance was unbearably seductive in Xiao Yu's eyes. The sucking on his shoulder became more intense. His mind was spinning. Xiao Yu pulled his shoulders so that he leaned against the sofa and sat on the floor. He kissed his lips while rubbing the small dots on his chest.
The movement of his tongue made Lin Yan's mouth overflow with saliva, Xiao Yu swallowing it up, even the drops that threatened to spill out of the corners of his mouth. The belt on his jeans was pulled off, his underwear was taken off, and Xiao Yu grasped the hardness that was raised and stiff. Lin Yan shook violently. Before he could struggle free, Xiao Yu was already gripping his lower body and began to move up and down.
"Mmm..." Lin Yan bit his lower lip and tried his best to restrain the groan that tried to escape. His delicate face was stained with the image of lust. His whole body felt like it was on fire, uncontrollably dry. His hands clung to Xiao Yu's neck, twisting and struggling: "What do you want? You. . .What are you. . ."
His lower region rose to a purple-red colour. Xiao Yu stopped teasing him and held the pillar with his saliva-coated thumb and circled the slit. The rubbing evoked just the right amount of arousal in Lin Yan's heart and refused to give way for any comfort. The two of them looked at each other in the darkness. Lin Yan stripped off his faded jeans to reveal his strong legs, his drunken eyes hazy and his lips slightly opened. Each stroke of Xiao Yu's fingers over his slit elicited a gasp. He rubbed past it and received a disappointed exhale, chest rising and falling, like a water-starved fish.
"What did you say I was doing?" Xiao Yu pulled the outer layer of soft skin down to reveal the sensitive indentation. He leaned down and began to heavily lick it. Lin Yan let out a low groan. Even his eyes began to relax. The painting-like face in front of him, his long and powerful body, the crossed collar wrapped around his neck with ascetic-like calmness and clarity, his cold black hair falling over the back of his hand; how long he endured this? How long had he thought about it? Lin Yan gritted his teeth and gasped. The desire that came pouring out of him eroded him right down to the bones, burning him to ashes like a hellish karmic fire.
"Come on." Lin Yan took a deep breath. "Come and get it if you can."
In the darkness, they stared at each other like two swordsmen about to duel. The next second they passionately embraced, madly and intensely kissing each other. Lin Yan pulled down Xiao Yu's pants and held the huge thing underneath him to get him off. His tongue rushed in his mouth without permission. The two collapsed into a ball amidst the debris that littered the floor.
He stared at his jeans. Two slender and straight legs wrapped around Xiao Yu's waist and Xiao Yu's fingers touched his soft entrance. When he was about to expand the entrance, Lin Yan suddenly grabbed his neck and lifted himself up. He drunkenly hung his head to the side and slurred: "Don't bother."
"Go straight in."
"It will hurt. Wait a minute." Xiao Yu patiently kissed Lin Yan's face. His fingers moved towards that warm place and Lin Yan ripped his hand away. His voice trembled: "I said no!"
Sensing the surprise from the other person, Lin Yan turned his face and said quietly: "Enter from the back. Don't let me see it."
Xiao Yu's expression went cold. Lin Yan sighed. He moved away from his gaze and slowly kissed his lips, gently sucking with his lower lip, eventually kissing his adam’s apple, whispering: "I really want you. Do it. I can't wait."
"It's my first time. Take it slow." Lin Yan got up from the ground and staggered onto the sofa. When Xiao Yu followed, he wrapped his arms around the ghost's waist. He lifted the straight hem and buried his face against his stomach. He slowly licked his stiffness from top to bottom, swallowing it and soothing it with his tongue.
Xiao Yu grabbed Lin Yan's hair and pushed it into his mouth. When he reached the soft flesh at the back of his throat, he softly called his name. He withdrew and rubbed Lin Yan's lips, but refused to go back in.
When Xiao Yu brought him up, Lin Yan was shaking like a leaf, but the ghost didn't have his usual overbearing and tough dominance at all. Instead, he acted gently like he would with a child. While kissing his ear to tantalize Lin Yan's desire, he parted his ass cheeks a little to enter him.
Even his dulled drunk senses couldn't mask the pain as Lin Yan broke out in a cold sweat. He clenched his teeth. After the whole thing was inserted, he felt like he was being tortured. He buried his face in the sofa and gasped for breath. The foreign object in his body made Lin Yan feel inexplicably distraught and desperate. The whole city is lit up, but he belongs only to the darkest corner of it. He was like a forgotten steamed bun, left to grow fungus and mould in some alley. He had sex with a ghost in the middle of the clutter-filled room, an absurd sexual encounter that disgusted and overwhelmed him. Lin Yan picked up a rag from the floor and covered his eyes. God knows how much he wanted to touch his lover's body in all its glory, to claim his kisses while admiring his seductive look.
At least that wasn't what was happening now. Lin Yan was clutching the cushion in confusion. His shirt was still on, the person ambling behind him was nearly fully clothed. They were just doing animalistic things here, something dark and desolate. Lust truly was the lowest form of pleasure. Lin Yan turned around and touched Xiao Yu's face. "Move. I'm okay."
"Tell me if it hurts." Xiao Yu whispered in his ear.
The lights outside projected into the room through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The rather stylish living room looked like it had been hit by a storm. The coffee table and small bookcase were smashed and overturned. The ground was piled with shredded clothes and scraps of paper. The soft sofa fabric on the middle cushion was still intact, and the darkness echoed with the strange ambiguous sound of dripping water. The slender man in traditional clothing was propped up on the sofa. The man beneath him was resting on his arm, gritting his teeth with every thrust. Each time, it hit that area in exactly the right spot, as if they had already done this many times.
"Feels so good . . . Xiao Yu, that feels so good . . ." Lin Yan struggled to climax. His fingers squeezed the sofa cushion like he was trying to wring it out. "I want . . . a little deeper . . ." Xiao Yu put his hand to his mouth. Lin Yan eagerly began to suck, five fingers going in and out of his mouth. Then, he licked the back of his hand before interlocking his hand with the other's saliva-covered one.
The infinite night sucked them in. Pleasure was in the air, their ruinous love like a beautiful dream.
Xiao Yu forcefully picked up Lin Yan's body from the sofa. He let him lean back in his arms. Along with Xiao Yu's movements, Lin Yan soothed his front end impatiently until his hand was caught by the ghost, forcing him to take it away. When he took it away, Lin Yan shook his head uncomfortably, but Xiao Yu held the stiffness for him: "I'm coming." Xiao Yu said: "Close your eyes and scream for me."
"Xiao Yu . . ." Lin Yan cried weakly. Was he dead? He must have died alongside this ghost. He was desperate, crazed and overwhelmed. His tight entrance tightly clamped around the large thing that repeatedly thrust in. The two of them entwined together, right until the bitter end.
He doesn't remember exactly how many times he changed positions overnight or how many times he did it. The last time he had been completely powerless, sticky with sweat and semen. Xiao Yu carried him and threw him onto the bed in the bedroom. Lin Yan curled up in the blanket like a kitten, and Xiao Yu removed all of his clothes. He patiently spread out his limbs, folding his hands across his chest. His muscular legs tightly fit between Lin Yan's, and he coaxed Lin Yan to sleep like they were a real couple using kisses as loving words. He had drunk too much. Lin Yan leaned back against Xiao Yu’s chest for a while. The dizziness passed, and he slowly lost consciousness.
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trans-xianxian · 4 months ago
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I think caspers death is especially hard because like... of course I love all of my pets equally and losing any of them would be incredibly hard like none of them dying would be any better or any worse than another one of them dying but. every once and awhile there's just an animal that you get to have a very special connection with not because they are any better or you love them any more than any other of your pets.. its just that you were blessed to have something very special and rare with them, and that's how it was with casper. now that she's gone it's like there's a big hole in my chest
rats are so unique in the way that it's almost like they're designed to break your heart.... they are so kind and loving and intelligent and they all have their own wonderful and individual personalities and you form such real and close bonds with them like they really do love you so much and make you part of their little families and they take care of you or try their best to in a way I've never encountered with any other animal but the nature of their being is that you are just given such little time with them... in the best of health they only live for about 3 years and even that is rare because they just have So many health problems that have no or very expensive and risky treatments
I've had rats since I was like seven and a few years ago I literally had to take a break from having them because it just hurts my heart too much. they are so so special and such a blessing to have in your life but you are always just given such little time... they just break your heart over and over again because they leave too soon and most of the time you also have to watch them suffer at the end of their life and you're not even able to really do anything about it
I don't know it's just like.. it's always so hard when you can tell your pet is hurting in their final days no matter what but it's especially hard when you have such a special connection with them.... I feel like I could feel caspers hurting deep in my chest
#and theres another rlly hard layer to it of... casper was really similar in both appearance and personality to another rat I had#who I slso had a very special connection with and who I had to watch suffer so so much before she passed away#she was the first rat I lost after taking a break from them for awhile and it was very very hard for me#and caspers death just reminds me of that again#I've lost THREE pets in the last year n its the first year that I'm completely on my own... I have to dig all of the small graves by myself#thats not really one of the adulthood things you're taught about.... neither the emotional or practical aspect of it#and all three times I've been completely alone at home like my best friend hasn't been here to help me#idk its just hard having to be a Grown Up tm and also lose pets#and its just like.... I want my dad#its the most primal and natural response to pain..... I am hurting and I just want my dad#n the last two pets I lost didn't. visibly suffer like they just died out of nowhere and I found them later#which is traumatizing and painful in its own way#but casper literally died gasping for breath in my hands#and that is. a very unique kind of hurt#I sat there just hoping that I would feel her breath or her heartbeat again#anyway I am so sorry for ranting about this I know its not a fun topic or rlly what any of you signed up for#but thank you for bearing with me and sending me such kind words I really do appreciate it so much :(#ghost posts#text#not mdzs#animal death#and I guess uhm#pet death#too just because this post gets very specific and.. detailed abt that in particular
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whumptober2021 · 27 days ago
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Whumptober 2021
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Welcome to Whumptober 2021! May the Whump be with you :)
To all of you who participated last year - we have changed a few of the rules, but overall things have stayed the same. To everyone new: WELCOME!
Please make sure to read the Event Info carefully, most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.
This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.
With that being said, we’re very excited to see the community come together once more and be a wild, chaotic bunch of creators and consumers of whump. We wish you all the fun!
(All 31 Themes + Prompts, Event Information, and FAQs are posted below the cut!)
Whumptober 2021 Prompt List
No. 1 - ALL TRUSSED UP AND STILL NOWHERE TO GO
“You have to let go” | barbed wire | bound
No. 2 - TALKING IS OVERRATED
garotte | choking | gagged
No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT...
taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”
No. 4 - TRUST FALL
“Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed
No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER
betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose
No. 6 - TOUCH AND GO
bruises | touch starved | hunger
No. 7 - MY SPIDEY-SENSE IS TINGLING
helplessness | numbness | blindness
No. 8 - COUGHING UP A LUNG
pneumothorax | exotic illness | “Definitely just a cold”
No. 9 - RUMORS OF MY DEATH HAVE BEEN GREATLY EXAGGERATED
presumed dead | (blind) rage | tears
No. 10 - OOPS, I DID IT AGAIN
hospital | flare-up | ice chips
No. 11 - JUST KEEP SWIMMING
adrift | drowning | dehydration
No. 12 - IT’LL BE FUN, THEY SAID
torture | made to watch | begging
No. 13 - THAT’S GONNA LEAVE A MARK
“This is gonna suck” | burns | cauterization
No. 14 - UNDER PRESSURE
crush injuries | beaten | force
No. 15 -​ FEED A COLD, STARVE A FEVER
delirium | fever dreams | bees
No. 16 - ON A NEED TO KNOW BASIS
recovery | scars | aftermath
No. 17 - FIELD CARE 101
“Please don’t move!” | hemorrhage | dread
No. 18 - THE DOCTOR IS IN
“Now smile for the camera” | doctor’s visit | CPR
No. 19 - JUST A SCRATCH
bitten | bleeding | stabbing
No. 20 - LOST & FOUND
trunk | trapped under water | solitary confinement
No. 21 - THAT’S WHERE THE BLOOD’S SUPPOSED TO BE
bleeding through the bandages | pressure | blood-matted hair
No. 22 - THEY MADE ME DO IT
cursed | demon | obsession
No. 23 - YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT
auction | ransom | pursuit
No. 24 - ONE DOWN TWO TO GO
self-induced injuries to escape | flashback | revenge
No. 25 - HIDE & SEEK
escape | flight | hiding
No. 26 - YOU WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP
fallen | waterfall | trap door
No. 27 - I’M FINE. I PROM...
passing out | vertigo | collapse
No. 28 - IT’S NOT JUST IN YOUR HEAD
“Good. You’re finally awake.” | nightmares | panic
No. 29 - ALL WORK AND NO PLAY
“You’re still not dead?” | too weak to move | overworked
No. 30 - DIGGING YOUR GRAVE
major character death | left for dead | ghosts
No. 31 - HURT & COMFORT
disaster zone | trauma | prisoner
 Alternative Prompts List
losing control
threats
caning
mercy
forgotten
head injury
screaming
comfort
self-sacrifice
trapped
near death experience
regret
tragedy
battlefield
anxiety
Event Info
WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording into your work). Additionally, there are 3 prompts for each theme.  These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks.
Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.
When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag the with:
#whumptober2021 …..(the event tag)
#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)
#bruises, #stabbing,  …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)
#fandom or #OC
#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)
#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself, because tumblr sucks)
#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)
#your own tags go here
PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]
Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.
Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month.
Questions not addressed below can be directed to this blog as well. We will not answer any questions that have been answered in the FAQs or rules already.
Thanks for reading, and happy whumping!
Frequently Asked Questions
Q. What kind of content can I make? Can it be NSFW?
This is a MIXED MEDIA event! You can write fic, post meta, doodle or paint, create a gifset or photo edit, link a song, or get crafty with video - anything goes. As for NSFW, make what you like, we just hope that you’ll tag your work accordingly so that others participating in the event can stay safe :)
Q. Is [specific anything] allowed?
When in doubt: JUST DO IT!
Q. Do I have to do all 31 days? 
Participate as much or little as you like! Just be sure to tag your posts properly (ex. #no.14, #underpressure). If you post works for 31 total theme days you will become a completionist. But apart from that, there are no repercussions if you don’t fill prompts for each day.
Q. Can I post early/late?
Yes, you can post whenever you want. We will only reblog posts during October, but you can use our prompts all year round. The day you post will only affect your probability of being reblogged.
Q. Will you reblog my post?
Due to the sheer number of content posted during Whumptober we can’t promise to reblog every single post. We will make a random selection trying to capture a wide variety of content. The following will increase your chances at being reblogged:
tag your post properly
post within 2-3 days of the theme you want to fill: if you fill the prompt for Day 1 your chances of being reblogged during October 1st to 3rd are highest and will go towards zero afterwards. 
Q. What if I don’t understand a theme?
Send us an ask! We’re happy to help with wild, unhelpful clarifications or brainstorming. That being said, the themes are entirely up for interpretation :) Don’t take them too literally. For example: You can be choking on a cherry, someone else can choke you or you could be choked up on emotions, etc.
Q. Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges?
Absolutely! That’s like shooting two whumpees with one bullet :)
Q. Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms?
Of course! You can post your own content wherever you like (or you can opt to not publish it at all). Additionally we’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there. It can be accessed here. The tumblr blog @whumptober-archive is the official archive, so please respect the boundaries of any closeted whumpers in your social circle :)
Q. Can I use prompts to write a new chapter for an existing fic?
Yes.
Q. An existing fic I am currently writing contains many of the Whumptober prompts, can I use it?
If you are actively writing this fic at the moment with the Whumptober prompts in mind, yes. If it just conveniently checks the boxes, then please don’t. You can, however, add new chapters using one or more of the prompts.
Q. What kind of characters can I write for?
Fandom characters, OC characters, human, furry, alien, cyborg, whoever you like to whump.
Q. Can I use a prompt multiple times?
Yes,  but it only counts once
Q. If I’m not comfortable with one day’s prompts can I use a prompt of a different day as a substitute and still be a completionist?
No, you can’t exchange prompts for different days. However, if all four prompts of a specific day make you uncomfortable, we have created an alternate prompts list that you can draw from. You can exchange any prompt with these, but please make sure not to use them twice. 
Q. Where can I post my work?
Post where and how you want. You don’t have to (cross)post it to Tumblr or at all. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. 
Q. Can I start posting early?
You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? That being said, you can post early, but we won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st.
Q. Do I have to finish a fic I started/can I post WIP’s.?
Yes you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish it in October for it to count towards being a completionist.  
Q. Is co-writing allowed?
Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you :)
Q. Do I have to create 31 standalone pieces to be considered a completionist or can I write one continuous story?
One continuous story is fine.  The challenge is to write something for 31 prompts. If that’s spread over 31 fics or just one, you are still considered a completionist. (The same goes for every other media you choose.)
Q. Is there a min/max limit on word count?
There is no limit.
Q. Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many?
No limit and combine as many as you’d like.
Q. Is a hc/angst focus ok?
Of course!
Q. What’s considered nsfw?
See this post
Q. What is whump?
See this post
Q. My interpretation of the prompt isn’t whumpy at all, does that count?
No, sorry, but keep in mind that whump [see definition] is something very nuanced and different for everyone and emotional whump/angst is just as much part of it, as is physical whump and torture. So before you dismiss your idea, think about this.
Q. Can I start working on the prompts before October?
Absolutely! That’s why we posted the prompts a month in advance. We recognise how difficult it can be creating for 31 days in “real time” so feel free to start writing early!
Q. How do I tag triggers?
Just tag the word, ex. emeto
Q. Do I have to use your tags?
If you want your work archived on the blog, then yes. If not, feel free to use whatever tags you want.  
Q. Does combining prompts count towards completion?
Yes
Q. Can we @ you?
Yes but we mostly rely on the #whumptober2021 tag
Q. Is there anything we are absolutely not allowed to write?
There are no rules, but please make sure to properly tag your trigger warnings. And keep in mind Tumblr’s policies if you are posting it here (or the policies for whatever site you use).
Q. Where can I go for brainstorming help?
Here on Discord or come into our ask box :)
Q. My characters are minors, is that ok?
Yes, but as with everything else, tags are your best friend.
Q. Can I cross post on other blogs?
Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable. You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once.
Note: This is a creation challenge, please don’t repost your old work under our tags (unless it’s been changed or edited for the event).
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xemeterydr · 5 months ago
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I’m trying to find a specific short film animation with only the memory of like two scenes and vague character design
#bruh I forgot what it was called#I remember watching it on YouTube like 2 years ago#ok so like it starts out with a frame of this kid digging a grave at the middle of the night#and there’s a narrator that says ‘this is *insert character* name. he just killed his parents’ and it pans to the two graves with his parent#names on them#then the kid like stabs himself and falls into a third dig grave#and he goes to hell and the devil is at like a secretary desk#and he’s like ‘ok kid I have to find papers’ and looks though like a million organized bins of papers#and he finds the paper and is like ‘ok so you are *insert character*. you are in hell for killing your parents. ok’ and tells the kid he has#to harass this other kid into killing himself. idk. but then he’s like ‘ok’ and goes back to the overworld as a ghost and finds the new guy#at a bus stop and he’s like ‘hello I died and went to hell. my name is *insert character*. please die. you know you want to’ and the other#guy is like ‘huh’#and I forgot the rest#and I forgot the name of literally every character and the film itself#but like I remember the kid wore jeans and a skirt over the jeans#idk why but he just did#he might of had a beanie as well#and he either had a really cool super uncommon name or his name was Matt#I really can’t remember#I don’t think his name was Matt#might of been though#wait wait I think the title had ‘hell’ in it#idk#I’ve been googling ‘short film about kid killing his parents and going to hell’ but like that’s not working and I don’t want my mom to like#look at the WiFi router’s browser history and see that I’m googling shit about people killing their parents#even though that would 100% be one of the most explainable sus google searches I’ve made tbh#and I’d definitely rather her see that then literally anything else#anyways#I remember the video has like 10 million views so it had to be popular
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url-is-url · 9 days ago
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We the Phandom like to elaborate on Tucker’s Pharaoh connection and maybe give him powers related to it.
Let’s throw that at a Corpse AU, because I love Corpse AUs and I was an Egyptology kid. Imagine for me if you will, all the usual Corpse AU stuff happens, and Danny has to admit his secret identity to a small group of detectives to get them to believe that yes, it was an accident and no, I don’t want to press charges now will you please put my carcass back in the ground this is making me very agoraphobic. And the detectives, naturally, want Danny to come out of the casket to his parents because Holy Fuck Dude, and Danny naturally does not want that. They reach a compromise: Danny doesn’t have to admit his secret identity to anybody else, but he does have to let the city give him a proper spot in the cemetery with a headstone instead of going out and making another unmarked grave for somebody else to find and freak out about.
Danny is wary of having a marked grave because he’s afraid his rabid fans or rabid enemies might dig it up. Enter Tucker! The ancient Egyptians were all about funerary rites, and Tucker convinces Danny to let him put some good old fashioned curses on the new grave. Egypt was sometimes a theocracy, it’s very possible that “appeasing powerful ghosts through grave magic” was Tucker’s ancestor’s/previous life’s whole job description.
Tucker starts getting occasional visits from cobras. Cobras do not naturally live in Amity Park, and they definitely don’t talk, but they show up in Amity Park and occasionally talk to Tucker. Why cobras? Because they’re associated with Meretseger, the guardian goddess of the Valley of the Kings and Valley of the Queens in Thebes. The tomb builders prayed to her for protection from the snakes and scorpions that lived in the Valleys, and she was invoked to blind grave robbers with her venom.
Imagine you’re a random kid at Casper High, and suddenly a bigass snake comes from nowhere and crawls up that weird techie kid’s shoulders. It puts its mouth near the guy’s ear and he stands up like “excuse me teacher, the Guys in White are trying to dig up Phantom’s grave, can I please go chase them off?”
Imagine you’re Wes Weston and you know that Fenton is Phantom, and you see a snake whisper something in Tucker Foley’s ear. He turns to Fenton and says, just loud enough for you to also hear it because Fenton and his friends are all dicks, “hey, somebody just put a blunt on your grave, do you want it?”
Imagine you’re Jack and Maddie Fenton and you really want a look at Phantom’s body to see if there’s any clues to why he got so strong so fast. Before you’re even a foot into this grave, your son’s best friend shows up with an enormous snake wrapped around his shoulders and they’re both glaring at you. All of the usual wildlife of the night has gone completely, creepily silent (Meretseger means “she who loves silence”) and the cobra is absolutely making eye contact with you.
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the-wednesday-tales · 8 months ago
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17th Birthday
When he wakes up on his seventeenth birthday, Dean doesn’t expect much. He can’t even remember the last time he celebrated a birthday- Sammy will usually give him a (terribly) hand-drawn card and whatever little gift he’s managed to scrounge up on the road, but John lets the day pass just like any other. Dean doesn’t even want much, a simple happy birthday and candle to blow out would be more than enough..but he knows better than to ask for even that.
It’s been almost a year  since John dragged him out of the boys home and back on the road. He’s been looking at Dean differently ever since, a subtle change that Dean can’t quite put his finger on, but can feel palpably nevertheless. He wants to know what he did, but he’s even more afraid to find out. For now he keeps his head down and does as he’s asked, like always.
Dean sighs and rolls out of bed, gets dressed. He throws together what could pass as breakfast for him and Sammy, and when they’re finished John walks in and hands Dean a rifle. Dean silently follows him out into the forest, where they waste away the morning shooting at trees and tin cans.
Sam sits on a stump reading the whole time.
When they get back to the room, Dean has barely sat down at the table to clean the guns when a stack of papers lands in front of him with a plop. He looks up to see John looming over the table, a hard glint in his eyes. Dean eyes the papers warily.
John clears his throat, “There’s a couple of ghosts terrorizing the convent just outside of town. Two nuns haunting the place”.
Dean glances up at John. “Should I pack a bag, so we can head out right away?”
John shakes his head, slaps a gruff hand down on Dean’s shoulder.
“I’m going to stay behind with Sammy. It’s time you took on a hunt by yourself. It’s a simple salt and burn, so even you can’t fuck that up.”
The hand on his shoulder squeezes hard enough to bruise and Dean bites his tongue and nods, shame burning at the back of his throat. John gives him keys to the Impala then heads over to Sammy without another word.
Dean tucks the papers into a duffel alongside the salt, matches, and shotgun casings then heads out.
**** When Dean gets to St. Stephen’s Indian Mission, he pulls over on the other side of the road and pulls out the papers to read. The stack contains a section from the town’s newspaper and some photocopied files from the church mentioned.
Dean settles back to start reading, and is barely a couple sentences in when his stomach drops.
Two nuns.
Two nuns who were in love with each other and were found out by the townspeople.
They killed themselves shortly after, bled out beside one another in the convent’s cemetery, curled together beneath the statue of St. Stephen.
Dean has to close his eyes and swallow against the bile that rises in his throat.
He knows. He knows. He knows. He knows.
Dean draws in a few shaky breaths and slowly opens his eyes. He finally knows what changed, finally understands why John has been looking at him differently. John knows.
Dean cycles through his memories, tries to pinpoint how John could have figured it out. Dean’s been so careful…so careful. He never looks too long, he never flirts, and he certainly has never brought a boy back to the motel. And yet John still knows.
Maybe he can tell just by looking at Dean.
He spends a few more moments in the car, tamping down the rising panic before he gets out and starts investigating.
*** Night has fallen and Dean has spent the better part of two hours locating the graves of the two nuns- Helen and Adelaide. They were hidden in the forest behind the cemetery, marked by two simple crosses. They weren’t even given the decency of being buried in the cemetery, let alone a headstone.
He spends another couple of hours digging up the two graves. Two graves is so much harder then one, and tiring when you’re the only one digging.
He understands what this hunt is now. He understands why it’s his first one alone.
It’s punishment.
John sent him out here as punishment for what he has done, for who he is.
Dean wonders how many hunts, how many punishments he will have to endure until he is normal, until he is clean.
By the time he uncovered both sets of bones, the moon is high in the sky and lights the graves in an eerie bluish color. The nuns are dressed in plain clothes, their habits no where to be seen. Dean bites his cheek until it bleeds. Of course they aren’t in their habits. They defied God. They defied the natural order. They were sinners…abominations.
And now John knows. He knows Dean is just like them. That he is tainted, wrong, unnatural.
Dean goes to pour the salt into the two graves, but stops.
With tears slipping down his cheeks, he carefully moves one set of bones into the other grave. Places them side by side until they are resting together.
Maybe they couldn’t be together when they were alive, but at least now they will be together forever. They deserve that much.
He pours the salt and lights the match. Drops it in with a shaking hand.
He watches as the flames burn steadily. He contemplates stepping into the flames for just a second, a minute. No one else would have to know if he died. His secret would be safe. And he would be clean, right? The fire would purify him, purge him of sins and cleanse his soul of its stains.
But the thought passes, and he thinks of Sammy. He can’t leave him alone. Sammy deserves a good father and while John damn well will never be one, Dean can try.
Dean watches until the flames burn out, tears silently streaming down his face.
On the drive back he has to pull over on the side of the road to throw up. He retches until there’s nothing left in his stomach and the bile burns his throat. When he’s done his chest is heaving, but he still feels sick. His throat burns and his heart hurts when he thinks of Helen and Adelaide. He wonders if he’ll meet the same fate.
He spends a few minutes kneeling in the dirt panting, then pushes himself to his feet, wipes his mouth clean, and gets back in the car.
When he returns to the motel room, he can’t meet John’s eyes. Dean  knows that look will be written plainly across John’s face, knows now what that look means and why it’s there.
He tells John “It’s done” and goes to bed.
*** The next time John sends him on a solo hunt won’t be for years after that.
Inspired by @halfofmysoull @heller-jensen @bisexualrowena and the gut wrenching thing that is J*hn W*nchester’s journals.
Now on ao3
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peterbenjiparker · 6 months ago
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invisible string: part 4 - holding onto nothing
pairing: soulmate!peter parker x reader
summary: harry starts a group chat to shit talk about peter, peter looks cute in pink hello kitty apron, you start a pillow fight and gwen stacy tries to be your bestie
word count: 21k (it's a problem now)
warning: typos, swearing, peter being a dumbass, mentions of sex, gwen
a/n: thank you everyone for waiting an entire fucking month for this shit, enjoy! I am genuinely so sorry for taking so long to write this, but my exams are over and I'll update the series weekly from now on...i think!! I am a hoe for feedback, I’d love to hear your thoughts! :))
↳ series masterlist || main masterlist
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previous: part 3 - slipping through my fingertips
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"He is fucking shameless." Harry picked on his peas, slouching as he shifted in his seat, his chin rested on his palm, elbow propped up on the wooden table. He tilted his head to the side, his eyes trained on peter. 
He was just a few steps away from you, his brown curls scattered across his forehead, he scrunched his nose, trying to shake the curls out of his eyes and you just about died when his gaze flickered to you for a fleeting moment, amber eyes glossed with hurt pulled you out of your daze. 
You averted your gaze and he was quick to look away, his eyes focusing back on her. He had his arm around her. His lips ghosting over hers as she leaned closer, fingers curling around his wrinkled jacket that hugged his figure loosely. Her back was to the door-frame of the cafeteria, his arm pressed against the small of her back, his fingers playing with her golden curls. 
"It's disgusting," a new voice came from above you, your fingers curled around the edge of your purple hoodie, inhaling his faint smell that lingered on the material, calming you. 
Flash clicked his tongue, "it's absolutely disgusting," his gaze flickered to you, wrinkling his nose as he rolled his eyes, his fingers gripping the tray as he pushed back his seat, setting the tray down on the table with a thump, "can't even escape them when I am eating." 
Harry let out an exasperated sigh, "right?" he glanced down at his tray, his fork held tightly in between his fingers as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, "like, jeez, leave some room for jesus, man." 
You rolled your eyes when you caught him standing near the entrance, his hand slipping from her waist but she reached forward, intertwining her fingers with his. His head tilted towards your way, his brows knitted together and frown set on his face, "he can hear you." 
Harry huffed, "I don't care." 
"I do," you glanced at him, your breath caught in your throat when you soaked in the pleading gaze hidden behind his hesitant smile. He raised his hand, gaining her attention and she followed his gaze, her eyes landing on you and she tensed. 
He waved at you and you turned your head away, he gave you a little smile and all you gave him was your silence laced with hesitation as you picked at your nails. You glanced at Harry, "just shut up."
"Fuck, they are holding hands." Flash muttered, wrinkling his nose as you let out a defeated sigh, letting your face fall in your hands. 
"Hands, y/n." Harry let a frustrated grunt, wringing his hands as you squeezed your eyes shut, "fucking hands, hands – "
You clasped your hands around his, pushing them back down on the table, "you literally eye fuck your girlfriend literally everywhere – not to mention the amount of times you both fucked in public bathrooms. You were literally fucking in the back of a school library yesterday, swear to god, let them be – " 
Harry huffed, "excuse me, that's semi public, we make sure no one can see us–"
"we can hear you–"
"–and my girlfriend doesn't even let me hold her hand or kiss her when we are in public," he slipped his hand out of your grip and gripped your arm, nails digging in the material of your hoodie as he glanced back at them, "shit, shit they are kissing." He scrunched his face up in disgust as he pulled at your arm, "they are kissing."
Flash piped in, a grave look on his face, "have they got no fucking shame – it's a school, the learning environment is being incredibly disturbed by this horrendous public display of affection." 
You gaped at him, "e-excuse me?" 
Harry gasped, bunching the material of your hoodie in his fist as he slapped the table with his other hand, "get your lips off her," he hissed under his breath, the sharp whispers gaining attention of a few students, "they don't belong there you fucking heathen." 
You sighed, letting your head fall in your hands as you kicked out your leg under the table, leaning forward until your forehead was pressed against it, the cold wood biting your skin. You had your arms outstretched, tray pushed to the side as you turned your head to steal a glance of him. 
Your heart stopped when you watched him make his way towards you, leaving her near the entrance, her arms and her touch long forgotten when he locked eyes with you. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, chest tightening as your throat dried up, devoid of all the words that rested on the tip of your tongue, fighting against the retrains of your silence to escape your lips just a few moments ago. 
You had so much to say, all your thoughts, your words, your tears were begging to reach him to let him know that you were in love with him, you wanted to be with him, you wanted him to take your hand and never let go. 
He once promised to stand by your side no matter how hard it was to be with you, he said he'd hold your hand no matter where you were, either basking in the sunshine or pulled into the dark of the night, he'd stand by you. Yet he left, leaving you broken just like his promise. 
Here you were, just a few steps away from him, his amber eyes searching for something, anything in your eyes to make sure he still had you. You wanted to look away, to blink away the tears brimming your eyes but you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. 
His eyes held the same look, clouded with an unrecognizable emotion when he let the two words escape his lips. His words sunk in your heart like thorns, your fingernails clawing at the strings, desperately trying to hold on as your world crumbled all around you. 
Hope was a fragile little flame that burnt out in a matter of seconds, your broken pieces were embraced by the dark, looped right in the arms of a hopeless night. You spent the night wide awake, contemplating what you've been doing for the past few weeks. You didn't know what you wanted, what you needed now that all hope was gone. 
You spent the last few weeks, living for the hope of it all, believing that he'd eventually be yours, he'd wake up in your arms in the morning, kiss your lips, touch you and feel you, just you. You grasped onto the stray strings of the torn fabric of your heart, living with the hope that he would come back to you. You thought that one day he would wake up and realize that it was you he loved all along and he'd come running into your arms.
You've been holding onto that hope, but it disappeared right before your eyes. You've loved him for a few weeks but it felt like you've loved him forever, tracing his name in the back of your notebook, thinking of him every waking second of your day, his touch burned your skin and you dreamed of it in the dark, his sweet smile engraved in your heart. 
You adored him, your heart clenched every moment your gaze fell upon him and yet you loved him to pieces. You couldn't fathom the love you had for him, every night you fell asleep with his name on your lips, an aching heart longing for his touch and lips curling into a smile to the thought of him despite the million knives he twisted into your heart solely with two simple words. 
You've loved him while living a lie, believing that he was yours, he would be yours when he'd realize that it was you who he loved, but–he found the one he was supposed to be with while you were lost in your fantasy. 
You were holding onto a lie, a false hope that he'd be yours and now you had nothing. You thought you found the love that would last a lifetime but you've been holding onto nothing. 
You tried to drown out his words, but they haunted you in your dreams. His sweet smile, the kind eyes, the soft touch that you only found when you lost yourself in your fantasy, it all turned to dust when his words caught up to you no matter how hard you tried to run away.
"Hi," your heart skipped a beat at his voice, his words laced with warmth as he struggled to look away from you but his eyes remained on you and so did yours. He adjusted the collar of his plaid shirt, peeking from behind his unzipped jacket, his eyes drifting away from you as he hesitated. 
"You, uh…" you straightened up, your hands clasped together in your lap, you sunk in your seat when his eyes dropped down to your hoodie. He bit back a smile, his lips twitching up when his eyes traced the material hugging your figure. It was his. 
You gripped the material, cheeks burning under his gaze. He knew you only wore it when you two were apart, when you missed him. His smell still lingered, reminding of all the times you've spent with hil, falling asleep with him, the cherished moments when he pulled you closer, lips ghosting over your skin, his fingers playing with your hair. 
"I was, just…" he cleared his throat, a light blush coating his cheek as he tilted his head to the side, a ghost of a smile on his lips, "you… you look really cute." His gaze caught your eye, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sniffled, motioning towards the hoodie, "that–that looks good." 
Your gaze flickered to the side and he caught on, following your gaze towards the entrance only to find no trace of Gwen. You glanced back at him, catching his eye as tension coated his features, all remnants of playfulness leaving him. 
It was moments like this that made you hate him, no matter how hard you tried to not love him, a smile from him your way was enough to pull you back in. His laugh was a drug that worked miracles on you but you tired of taking doses of him, it was a dwindling mercurial high and it all came crashing down when you remembered that his heart belonged to someone else. 
All the pieces of your heart that you tied together with a smile were coming undone, crushed pieces slipping from your fingertips and scattering across the floor. He showed you colors that you couldn't see with anyone else, you two were like the colors in autumn, so bright, just before they lost it all, leaving you in complete, utter darkness. 
His words left you stranded at a crossroad, you didn't know where you were supposed to go, where you wanted to go. Yet just sneaking a glance at his face was enough to push you further down the path you were trying hard to walk away from. He might never be yours but you'd love him til the very end, as long as you can make it last. You'd walk down the path less traveled by even though the path not taken fascinated you to no end. 
A life of no pain meant you had to lose him, but you could never let go off him even if he wasn't meant to be yours, you knew you'd ruin yourself for him a million times if it meant you'd get to see him smile at you. His smile was enough to pull you out of the dark, to paint your world with the prettiest of colors, you didn't need him all to yourself to love him. 
It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. You have heard of the love that lasts a lifetime, your love for him will last forever no matter whose lips he kissed, in whose arms he fell asleep in. 
"Okay lover boy," Flash whistled, pulling you out of your daze. He pushed his tray to the side, leaning back on his chair, twisting his body to face him as his arm gripped the back of the chair, he tilted his head to the side lazily. He licked his tongue, eyeing him, "what do you want?"
He glanced at him from the corner of his eye, letting out a soft breath of frustration as he leaned forward on the table, his palms splayed on the wood, taking a deep breath, letting his frustration subside.  
"Harry," he nodded towards him,waiting for a response as you grew agitated on your seat. He pushed himself up, fingers fiddling with the unbuttoned cuff of his shirt as he let out a sigh, squeezing his eyes shut. "Hey, man, I really need those notes I was–"
Harry glanced at him with distaste, rolling his eyes as he looked away, "I don't have it." His response was curt and short, startling peter with his sharp tone. 
"–asking for yesterday." He finished, helplessly searching for your eyes for help but you refused to meet his gaze, focusing on your food rather than him. 
He frowned when he glanced back at Harry, brows knitted in confusion, "I haven't even told you what exactly I want–nevermind. I fell asleep during spanish yesterday and I need the notes, we have that stupid test after study hall–"
Harry clicked his tongue, letting out a bitter laugh as he ran his fingers through his hair, his fingers slipping down his neck, "I don't have anything you might need–ow."
He swatted your hand away, rubbing the red skin when you pinched him, a frustrated grunt leaving his lips as you rolled your eyes at him. You tried not to affect the fact that Peter hadn't come to you to ask for notes–why would he? 
You refused to talk to him, and yet it hurt when he turned to someone else when you were right there. You had been there when he fell asleep in class, it was you who made up excuses and pleaded with the teacher to let him sleep in class, she was kind enough to let it slide. You were going to drop off the notes later that evening but things didn't turn out the way you expected them. 
Harry turned to you, "what the fuck, y/n?"
You rolled your eyes, gaze flickering to peter for a fleeting moment, then back at him, "that's rude, be nice."
Peter chuckled, "be nice?" He shook his head, an amused smile making its way to his lips as he popped the button the bottom button of his plaid shirt, fingers playing with the hem as he held your gaze, tilting his head to the side, "you blocked me on everything last night, I'd say that's pretty rude."
You blinked at him, "I got your email last night, you made that pretty clear."
"You didn't even reply to the email!" He cried out, gaining the attention of a few students and the lunch lady who poked her head over the counter to steal a glance at your table.
Flash let out a loud gasp, holding his hand to his chest as he gave you a stern look, rolling his eyes at you playfully, "that's rude, y/n, be nice."
"Y/n blocked me last night too," Harry said, uncharacteristically proud, making you cock an eyebrow at him, an amused smile spreading across your lips as he leaned back on his chair, "you aren't special–still don't know why she blocked me, I mean, I was just doing good–"
"You annoying piece of shit," you protested, pushing the stray hair out of your face as you turned to him, "you were the one who kept adding me in that stupid group chat after I specifically said I don't want you to do shit like that–"
Flash barked out a laugh, "pineapple hate club?" 
"Yeah, exactly, that's the one!" You threw your hands up in the air, frustration coating your features. "I told you to stop doing stupid shit and let me deal with it–"
peter cocked an eyebrow at you, "the fuck is pineapple hate club?" 
Harry let out an exasperated sigh, standing up abruptly, "pineapple is a code name for y/n's soulmate–like it wasn't obviously enough–and we hate him so I made a group chat where we can talk shit about him." 
He eyed you and you squeezed your eyes shut, letting your head fall in your hands, he raised his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side, "he is an asshole–add me in the group chat too, that bitch doesn't know what he's letting go off to be with some other girl."
Flash spluttered, covering his mouth to muffle his laughter and you picked up your head, glancing at him with a scowl and he shrugged in response. 
"I am not going to," Harry said, fingers adjusting the sleeve of his sweater as his eyes flickered to you, "y/n blocked you, I don't think she would like it if you're in the group chat with her." 
You rolled your eyes, "I am not even in the group chat–"
"Y/n blocked you too!" Peter cut you off, narrowing his gaze at him, "and she's sitting next to you so I don't think it will be a problem."
Harry fell back in his seat, letting out a laugh, "you're jealous."
He let out an annoyed huff, his hand outstretched as he motioned towards the two of you, "of course I'm jealous, you get to talk to her and I don't. You get to sit with her and I don't–"
Harry chuckled,"you'd rather she sit on you–?"
"Harry!" You protested, your fist colliding with his forearm and he yelped out, rubbing the spot as he bit down on his bottom lips. 
"–with," he exclaimed, glancing at peter who's cheeks were turning red as he stumbled over his words, "of course, I meant with, like, honest, with–not that on is a bad thing–"
You rolled your eyes, head hung low, unable to meet his eyes, "just...give him the damn notes, you fucking idiot."
"He is a genius," Harry shrugged nonchalantly, tilting his head to the side as he narrowed his gaze at him, "he doesn't need notes."  
"What's your problem man?" He crossed his arms over his chest, pinching the bridge of his nose, annoyance seeping from his words. "You've been acting strange since...last night. I don't know if I did something to make you mad at me–"
"You did."
He raised an eyebrow at him, "the fuck did I do then?"
"Ask yourself." Harry shrugged. 
"Are you fucking with me right now?" He rolled his eyes, pushing back the chair to take a seat but Flash pulled the chair out of the way, earning a scowl from peter. He glanced back at Harry, "look man, I love you but you've been acting really strange, what's your problem with me? what's your problem–"
"I am not acting strange–"
"–with Gwen?" Your heart dropped when her name left his lips, you glanced back up at him and he clenched his jaw, eyes trained at Harry. "I could hear you, you know? I don't get why you all–" his eyes flickered to you and you looked away, "–you all don't like her, she didn't do anything to any of you, if she did then go ahead, tell me. You know you could at least try to like her, or just be polite, that's all I am asking."  
You would've stepped in if he hadn't brought her up, you knew it wasn't fair to her that you haven't exactly been the nicest to her. You were polite, you shared small conversations with her but you've been adamant on avoiding her for the last few weeks. 
You didn't know how to be friends with the person who inadvertently took everything away from you, you couldn't smile at her knowing she held his heart in the palm of her hand, you couldn't laugh with her knowing she had everything that once belonged to you. 
Gwen had him, and he was all you've ever wanted. 
"It's annoying," Harry grumbled and you looked up, raising an eyebrow at him as you shifted in your seat, "it's annoying–stop doing that in public."
"Doing what?"
"Kissing."
"Kissing?" He rolled his eyes. "You were literally giving me tips on making out, like, a week ago."
"I wish I could take it all back."
"Weren't you and MJ–you know in the back of the library–"
"Wait," Flash piped in, eyes trained on peter as he narrowed his gaze at him, tilting his head to the side, "how do you know they were fucking in the back of the library–?"
Peter coughed, shrugging as nonchalantly as he could, "could hear them." He took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut as he carded his fingers through his curls, tugging at them roughly.
It wasn't long before you let your eyes drift towards him tracing the battered and bruised skin of his lips, the bags under his eyes were more prominent now that he was closer. His clothes were crumpled, his finger clasped over his wrist, the scratches littered all over the back of his hand. He was quick to hide his hand behind his back when he caught your gaze fixated on his hand. 
You could tell he hadn't been taking care of himself, he was barely eating, sleeping and working more and more and more. He was spreading himself thin between school and his spider-man duties already, and you hated to be a reason for stressing him out. He hid hid it from you but he always fell apart when you weren't by his side, and yet you didn't have it in yourself to be a shoulder he could lean on when you were barely trying to keep your broken pieces together, needless to say–
He looked like shit. 
"You look like shit," you turned your head to the side abruptly at the words laced with a monotonous tone, cocking an eyebrow at MJ as she took a seat next to you, finger gripping the tray in her hand, her face a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher. 
Her eyes were trained on him as she set the tray down on the table and you followed her gaze which led you to him. He let out a defeated sigh, his lips twitching into a tight lipped smile as he glanced at her, "thanks MJ."
He stepped back, gaze flickering to the exit as he let out a soft breath. He zipping his jacket, slipping his hand in his hoodie pockets as he nodded at her, "I'll see you in class–"
"You're skipping lunch again?" Harry let the words slip before he could stop himself, gaining a quizzical look from Peter. A frustrated hand dragged over his face, rubbing his skin in annoyance as his fingers gripped his curls roughly, clearly exhausted. 
"You clearly don't want to talk to me," he rolled his eyes, letting a sigh of defeat when his gaze flickered to you, "y/n doesn't want to talk to me either–I'm not going to sit here when you both clearly don't want me here."
MJ cocked an eyebrow at you and you shook your head, placing a hand on your forehead, casting your down on the table when her gaze flickered to Peter, "what happened?"
He let out a frustrated grunt, pushing back the stubborn curls from his eyes, "fuck harry." 
"I will later," MJ mumbled, clicking her tongue in annoyance as she glanced at her boyfriend who shrugged, "but what exactly happened between the two of you?"
"Your boyfriend," peter pointed at him, frustration coating his features as he leaned back, adjusting his shirt and let out an annoyed huff, "I just–fuck off." 
He turned on his heels to leave and you stood up abruptly, his name escaping your lips before you could even process your thoughts, "h-hey," you croaked when he turned around, amber eyes stirring something in you and you almost look away from him because every time your eyes met his, you found yourself losing yourself in him completely. "I was just–"
You grabbed the banana from your tray, holding it out for him as heat rushed to your cheeks, feeling his eyes bore into you, "here–you don't have to fucking starve yourself, I am–May is worried about you and–”
Your breath hitched, words dying on your lips as his fingers brushed against yours, warmth spread under your skin like wildfire, stomach twisting when his fingers curled around the fruit, thumb resting on your finger. He held your gaze and you squirmed on your spot, hoping he'd let go but neither of you wanted to. 
Flash cleared his throat, breaking the silence that fell between the two of you, pulling you out of the trance of being completely enamored by him, "this is painful to watch."
He broke apart, his fingers letting go off you, you missed the warmth of his skin against yours, heat rushing to your cheeks when you caught the blush coating his cheek. He coughed, the grip of his fingers tightening on the banana in his hand as he nibbled on his bottom lip, biting down hard enough to draw blood as he shifted, "t-thanks." 
His voice was small, hushed and breaking when he stole a glance at you, his lips parted when he accidentally locked his eyes with you, the scarlet blush deepening. He stumbled over his words, "uh–I gotta, you know, fuck–this test and, you know, I gotta–" 
He took off towards the exit, leaving behind the trail of broken words and confused faces. 
MJ scooted closer to you when he was out of sight, you released your breath that you've been holding when you watched him walk away from you. You turned your head to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, a quizzical look in her eyes, "you two still haven't talked it out yet?" 
"No," you shook your head, letting out a puff of air as you rested your cheek on the palm of your hand, elbow placed on the table, "we...we haven't and I don't know–he did say he was sorry but, I don't know I just don't want to–
MJ cocked an eyebrow at you, "did you?"
You looked up at her, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "did I what?"
A small sigh escaped her lips at your words, she leaned back on her chair pushing the curls out of her eyes, "did you apologize to him?"
Flash looked up from his phone, his grip tightening around it as your lips parted, unable to form words. He shifted in his seat, raising an eyebrow at her, "why would she apologize to him–?"
MJ shot him a glare, holding up her hand, "this has nothing to do with you." 
"You're mean," he shrunk in his seat, pouting at you as he nodded towards MJ but you waved him off, rolling your eyes as your gaze flickered to her. 
MJ had made her feelings towards him pretty clear, she wasn't thrilled about the fact that he knew about all your secrets before she did. She was grateful that you had someone to share your pain with, because if you hadn't you would've kept it all in and let it slowly tear you down. 
It scared her, to see you slowly tear yourself apart for someone. Her heart clenched to the thought of how much you loved Peter, you've been trying to contain it for so long, the love had nowhere to go and so you let it unknowingly poison the roots that he planted in your heart. 
MJ was no stranger to love, but the way you loved him so recklessly terrified her to no end. You could live without him, but you didn't want to. You'd always put him before you, you'd always choose him over yourself, that's just how you loved. You'll burn yourself down to ashes for someone you loved, it terrified her because she knew that he would too. 
Her heart simply locked away the thoughts of what could happen if you two didn't find each other in the end. 
In the end she wanted to be there for you, and she blamed herself for not paying much attention to you, she hated the fact that she'd been so wrapped up in her own life to notice how much pain you were in.
Harry clicked his tongue, gaining her attention as you turned your head towards him, "but he's right, y/n shouldn't apologize to him."
MJ took a deep breath, her face hardening as she narrowed her gaze at him and he let out a nervous laugh, tension coating his features, "Y/n can't be mad at him for something she did too, they both have been keeping things from each other, it isn't fair to him that y/n is the only who gets an apology."
"But–"
"Harry, I already told you last night that you are not supposed to butt in. I told you that you stay the fuck away–its their personal matter, you don't have a say in it, but you just don't fucking understand. I might put you on time out if you keep this up–"
Flash raised his eyebrows at him, words tumbling from his lips before he could stop himself, "time out?"
Harry glanced at him, nibbling on his bottom lip as he shifted under MJ's scrutinizing gaze, "no sex."
"Man, shit–for how long?"
He shrugged, his hands outstretched as his gaze flickered to her, "as long as she wants."
Flash winced, his legs bumping against the leg of the table as he shifted in seat, leaning forward on the table, a hand quickly flew down to his pocket as his  phone buzzed, distracting him from the conversation, "damn, sorry about that, man."
MJ narrowed her eyes at them as you leaned back in your seat, an amused smile making its way to your lips as you raised an eyebrow at them, "when did you two become besties?"
Harry hesitated, "uh, last night."
Flash nodded, glancing up from his phone, "yeah." 
He rolled his eyes, gaze flickering to you, "you blocked me and my darling girlfriend told me she'd kick my neck into the ground if I add her in the pineapple hate club group chat–"
You hissed, "stupid fucking group chat."
"It's not stupid–"
Flash coughed, placing his phone face down on the table as he focused on you, "anyway, so we were the only one in the group so we talked and–"
Harry agreed, "bonded over how much we hate peter."
"Actually…" he trailed off, his lips pressed in a thin line, "he sent me a long paragraph about how Peter is one of the most wonderful people to walk on earth after I said he had thin lips."
"Hey!" You protested, heat rushing to your cheeks, "his lips are cute–"
"I realized I couldn't make fun of him," he said, ignoring your words as his gaze flickered to his phone as it buzzed again, he shook his head away, slipping his phone back in his pocket as he glanced up, "so we started talking about Maisie Green–"
You raised your eyes, tilting your head to the side, "Maisie from chemistry?"
Harry barked out a laugh, "yeah, the one who got suspended for hooking up with her ex girlfriend in school's bathroom–" 
"I thought it was her boyfriend–?"
"I thought it was her boyfriend too," Flash said, shaking his head, "but she cheated on him–"
"It's not like it's a big deal," Harry chuckled, "she cheats on him, at least, two times a week–I don't get why they still together–"
MJ slapped the table harshly, startling you, "as I was fucking saying," her gaze narrowed at her boyfriend as she gritted teeth, her grip tightening on the hem of her shirt, "Harry, I know that you are trying to be supportive of her, I know that you care about her but he is–"
He gasped, "you're taking his side!"
MJ rolled her eyes, "there are no sides."
A defeated sigh left her lips as her grip loosened on her shirt and her hand reached up to fix her hair, "look, as disgusting as it sounds, I love all of you, each one of you are very important to me–" her gaze fell upon flash and she forced a smile, "not you, you can choke." Ignoring his cry of protest, her eyes focused back on Harry, "but, you know, peter and y/n are stupid people, I love them but they are pretty dumb–"
"Thanks MJ," you piped in. 
"–all we can do is try and give them the best advice we can," she continued, ignoring your words, "it's not your place or mine to tell them what to do. I know you want to support y/n but hating on peter isn't going to solve anything, I know you love him–"
"I do," he admitted and you nibbled on your bottom lip to bite back a smile as you leaned forward on the table, gaze fixated on him as a shy smile spread across his lips under your stare. 
"Aww, Harry misses his bestie and it's barely been a day since he declared him his sworn enemy," you teased, bumping his shoulder and he let out an annoyed grunt, his cheeks dusted pink as he swatted you away. 
"Fuck off," he grumbled, "you're the one who is in love with that stupid kid anyway–"
MJ cleared her throat flashing a tight lipped smile when you glanced back at her, "as I was saying–if you keep this up, you might ruin your friendship with him and no one wants that. I love him, we all do–"
"I don't," Flash shrugged. 
Her eye twitched when she looked at him,  "like I said, choke."
MJ focused back on you, her finger drumming on the table as she shifted in her seat, "y/n loves him," her gaze flickered to her boyfriend, "but you don't see her hating on him, you love him, don't you, y/n?"
"Yeah," you grumbled under your breath, "that's the fucking problem."
MJ rolled her eyes at your words as she turned towards you, pushing the stray hair out of your face as you held your breath, "it will all be much easier if you two just talked."
Harry grunted, "fucking communicate."
Her fingers tucked the pieces of your hair behind your ear, a small smile etched over her lips, "I've known you two for years, he is in love with you and it's so obvious–"
"He is not in...love with me," you said, your voice breaking and you hated how her eyes softened, glossed over with pity. Your words were broken, trying to convince yourself of the fact that he would never love you the way you loved him no matter what you do more than her. 
It always lingered in the back of your mind, but the thoughts faded away when you found him hand in hand with her. He pressed soft kisses on your skin and you pulled him closer at night, the unspoken words hung in the air when he touched you, the lines were always blurry between the two of you and you crossing them every night you had him in your arms. 
He held you close behind closed doors, stole kisses from you when he could but his lips never trailed up to yours and you didn't ask him to. It was a line that you set that neither of you could cross. He treated you like glass, always afraid to break you, to lose you and you never understood why. 
He was vulnerable around you, but he kept some of his thoughts locked away in his heart from you and you never tried to find the key because you were afraid that you might lose him. You were content with the way things were because you had him, yet he left you for her without any words. 
He didn't say anything to you–what would he say anyway? You never talked about it, too afraid of shattering the one thing you loved. In the end, you were too afraid to ask him to be with you, you were naive enough to assume that you'd always have him but he left. He left to be with someone he could actually be happy with–someone he could fall in love with. 
You knew he loved you, there were moments where you thought he saw you as someone much more than a friend but you never thought he could fall in love with you. You desperately wished he did but you still couldn't imagine him falling in love with you. 
He haunted all your what ifs whenever you remembered his touch, he lingered on your skin like a tattooed kiss and that's why it hurt. It hurt when he left without a word. It hurt when you saw him kiss her lips, and you could've been her if you hadn't been a coward but you were afraid of your own feelings because you loved him so much more than he could ever love you. 
"He is in love with you," MJ smiled at you and her words stung, "and so are you, we all can see it, literally everyone can see it," her hand fell back in her lap, her eyes held your gaze, "he has a look, whenever you are around or someone even mentions you, he smiles–it's stupid, he's stupid–but I've seen him do that for years, y/n."
"I always thought you both would end up together," Harry nudged your shoulder gently, a teasing smirk on his face, "and I wasn't even friends with you stupid people until last year."
"You both have been in love with each for so long, we knew–you didn't even realize that you loved him but we knew." MJ let out a soft chuckle as she leaned forward, letting her cheek rest on her palm. "Ned always secretly hoped you two would end up together–"
"I wouldn't call it a secret." Flash laughed, "literally, more than half of the school knows he hoped you two would eventually get together. He made a bet with Brad that the two of you would end up together by the end of senior year–"
"Cindy moon thought you two were dating until she saw him kissing Gwen in the hallway, like, a week ago." Harry muttered. "Susan Yang still thinks you and peter are dating but she also thinks that peter is a male escort so…"
"Wait–" MJ laughed, "do you remember that survey that went around during valentine's day and almost everyone–even some teachers–put down peter's name with y/n–"
You stared at them, dumbfounded, "what survey?"
"Ha! A lot of people put his name down with Harry." Flash remembered. 
"His name was written down with yours too," MJ teased him and he grumbled, waving his hand dismissively. 
"If you all fucking knew we love each other, then why did no one fucking told me?" You let out a frustrated grunt, slamming your fist on the table, gaining the attention of a few students sitting nearby. 
"It's not our fault you both are idiots." Harry shrugged and you rolled your eyes, groaning as you rested on your forehead on the table. 
MJ rubbed your back soothingly, "all you have to do is go up to him and tell him you love him."
"I can't do that," you shook your head, groaning into your arm as she rolled her eyes at you. 
"You both need to talk it out, you really do–"
"You don't understand," you cried out, picking your head up, glaring at her as you leaned back on your chair. 
"You can't run from it forever–"
"He already has a soulmate," you let the words fall from your lips, silence fell across the table at your words as you hung your head low. 
"I know…" MJ muttered cautiously, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "he said he had a red string. It could be you."
"It's not," you whispered, tears brimming your eyes but you blinked them away, snuggling slightly as she squeezed your shoulder. 
"Y/n, you can't be sure," Harry insisted, you could feel his eyes bore into your back as you shifted in your seat uncomfortably under his gaze, "it could be you, you already have your red string for him, and he's stupidly in love with you so of course he has a red string for you–"
"It's Gwen," you whispered, the words heavy on your tongue as you looked away when MJ's eyes grew wide. It was the first time you said out loud, finally admitted to yourself that it's her. 
It's her. 
It's always been her and it would always be her. He was with her and would be with her because she's the one he was supposed to fall in love with...and maybe he was. Maybe he was in love with her. 
"What the actual fuck?" Harry winced, his eyes searching for yours but you couldn't look up. 
"Gwen is his soulmate?" Flash hissed at you, his eyes widening as he watched you slack-jawed, "why didn't you tell me?
"Yeah, she is," you swallowed the lump in your throat, your own words tearing your heart into pieces as you fiddled with your fingers, your grip tightening on the hem of your shirt, your knuckles almost turning white, "he already has someone that he...loves. I can't take that away from him, please, I can't ruin that for him–"
MJ hissed, "fuck her."
You blinked at her in surprise, your eye growing wide as you turned to her, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, "what are you–?"
"MJ's right," Harry said, his tone laced with warmth as he placed a comforting hand over yours, squeezing your fingers, "for once, put yourself first and tell him, please, he might–"
"I can't tell him," you protested, shaking your head, shaking off his hand as you ran your fingers through your hair, gripping it roughly. 
"God," MJ let out a frustrated sigh, "telling him won't affect anything–"
"It will, of course, it will. I can't–" you inhaled sharply, blinking back the tears pooling your vision as you started at her with pleading eyes, "I can't lose him. If I tell him that I'm in love with him then I'd ruin our friendship. I'd lose him."
"You're losing him either way, y/n."
MJ was right. You were losing him. You didn't tell him that you were in love with him, yet he was slipping through your fingertips. You couldn't lose him. You couldn't. He was so much more than just a soulmate, he was your best friend, your family, he was the one you turned to when you needed someone to hold your hand and lead you out of the dark. 
"It doesn't matter–" Harry argued, his gaze flickering to his girlfriend as a small smile made its way to his lips, "red string sucks. I fell in love with MJ simply because of her, sure the red string helped me find her but I'd love her no matter what. I don't give a fuck about these stupid strings, I'll love her without a red string, I'll love her without any string."
MJ stared at him, mouth open like a gaping fish as a laugh bubbled up in your throat, "that's…" she hesitated, struggling to hold his gaze, "that's–"
You leaned closer to him as you watched her stumble over her words, "I think you broke her."
"I...fuck–"
"I know you love me," Harry said, reaching forward to hold her hand as heat rushed to her cheeks, "you don't have to say it."
"I-I do," she choked out, letting him squeeze her fingers. 
"Holy fuck she's letting you hold her hand in public." Flash gasped. "PDA."
"I do too, baby." He cooed, reaching for her arm and you leaned back in your seat, giggling as she swatted his hand away. 
MJ wrinkled her nose, "don't call me that."
He chuckled, "yes ma'am."
"It doesn't matter what the string says" he said, his gaze flickering to you, your heart stopped as his eyes lit up, "–you love him and I know he loves you–literally everyone knows," you inhaled sharply as he pushed himself up on the chair, your mouth falling agape as he climbed on the table,clapping his hands to gain everyone's attention, "hey–"
"Harry!" 
He clapped his hands, smiling as the students turned to pay him attention as he held up his hands around his mouth, "If you think peter and y/n are in love with each other, raise your hand–"
You gasped, standing up abruptly, ready to lunge on him but MJ came behind you, circling her arms around you to stop you, "I'll kill you–" 
"please don't kill my boyfriend–"
"fuck off," you kicked out your legs as your eyes widen when you see a few raised hands, laughter echoing in the cafeteria as your cheeks burned with embarrassment, "let me go–" 
You struggled against her arms, "put your hand fucking hand down," you grumbled, eyes wandering around the room, "everyone put your hand down" you glanced back when she removed a hand from, only to find it raised, "–MJ!"
You pulled away from her, fingers circling around Harry's wrist and pulling him down. He let out a surprised yelp, stumbling over his legs as he pushed himself down from the table, rubbing his wrist. 
"Ow," he whined when you swatted at his shoulder. 
You slapped his shoulders and he yelled, holding up his hands to defend himself as your gaze narrowed at him, "you can't do that–" 
"He can and he did." Flash shrugged and resisted the urge to kick his face. 
"I don't care if peter is my soulmate," you whispered to him, slapping his shoulder as he squealed, "if you care for him then stop ruining his relationship–"
"Fuck." Harry turned white, his eyes growing wide as he focused behind your back and your words died on your lips. Your heart raced in your chest as you turned around to face–
Ned blinked at you, his mouth fell agape as the tray slipped from his hands, clattering on the marble as the food splashed out across the floor. His eyes widening as the weight of your words settled in, "You are his what now?"
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"Okay–" you weren't exactly expecting this when you get back home, your grip on your doorknob loosening as you shut it behind yourself when you slipped inside, your tired eyes almost fluttered closed when you leaned your head back on the table but you caught a glimpse of him, "mom, what the actual fuck?"
"Hi," your mom chirped as you stepped forward, your exhausted hands clawing at your coat, slipping it off your shoulders, the folded material pressed against your torso as you toed off your shoes, "welcome home, honey. How was your day?"
You couldn't focus on her words as your eyes trailed from her to Peter, you certainly hadn't expected him to be at your place, especially with your mom in the kitchen with a pink hello kitty apron tied around his waist.
"Mom, what is he doing here?"
He looked cute but you tried not to focus on his face, and yet your eyes drifted to him, soaking in his features. He had his sleeves pushed up to his elbows, fingers dusted with flour, pieces of hair falling over his eyes that he tried to push away with the back of his hand. His arms fell limp by his side when he noticed your eyes on him, cheeks coated pink as he struggled to hold your gaze, shying away under your gaze and all your thoughts disintegrated.
He looked at you and you forgot how to breathe.
A part of you regretted returning home, you would've happily spent the night at one of your friends' places but all you wanted was to get home and try to drown out the thoughts that haunted you wherever you went.
You were still caught up with what had happened at school, you were still freaked out about Ned finding out about you and peter. Harry held your hand and tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you stumbled over to Ned, he found out and you knew that Ned couldn't keep a secret for shit.
In the end, he promised to keep it to himself, reassured you multiple times that he won't slip up, hands pressed to his chest, shocked to see how you reacted when he found out. You knew he genuinely would try his best to keep a secret but he was shit at lying and Peter would call his bluff in a matter of seconds.
It made you wonder how long you could lie to him. You have been lying to him for so long, a part of you wanted it to be your reality, to go back to things the way they were before. A time when you weren't aware how hard you fell from him, sleeping next to him didn't leave your heart aching as you longed for more than just a brush of your fingers against his, he came home to you and only you.
Yet you couldn't lose what you've been holding close to your heart for so long. You were painfully aware of how you fell from him but he wasn't there to catch you, his soft breaths at night lulled you to sleep, completely blissed out. He came home to you with her kiss lingering on his lips but he still came home to you.
In another world, you would be the only one he'd love, the lips he'd kiss, the only one he'd touch. It was a beautiful lie that you believed in, you've been living a lie for long, your love was built on lies and that's all you ever knew. You were hurt by the lies that you built for yourself, the lies that you told him.
It hurt that you lied to him every moment that passed by pretending to not be in love with him, it hurt because he gazed at you with warm eyes, his soft touch lingering on your skin as the lies left your lips made you hate yourself because he believed you. He trusted you and you broke it down little by little with each lie you threw at his face.
You could only keep the truth from him for so long, you ran through rose thorns to keep your secrets to yourself, if you let go of all your secrets you might be able to let the cuts and scratches littering your skin heal. It might break your heart but he was your family, he wouldn't let you go for loving him in a way he couldn't ever love you.
You could only hope.
"I'm teaching him how to cook!" Your mom's chirpy voice pulled you out of your thoughts, you let out a shaky breath, eyes darting around the kitchen until it landed on him and your face hardened.
You blinked at her, growing further confused as you dropped off your coat and bag on the end of the couch, "you're teaching him how to cook?"
Your mom hummed, untying her apron as she moved across the kitchen and towards the refrigerator, wiping her dusty fingers on a rag as he moved beside her to fetch a eggs that were placed at the end of the kitchen counter, "that's what I said, y/n."
You let out a groan as your gaze flickered to him and he smirked, a crooked smile that spread across his lips whenever he teased you. You shook your head, growing annoyed as he leaned towards you when you moved towards the sink to pour yourself a glass of water, "I did say I'll learn."
He lowered his voice as he brought his lips close to your ear, his hot breath caused goosebumps to rise on your skin and he noticed, his eyes trailing up your neck as he chuckled, "for you, I said I'd learn to cook for you."
Your fingers curled around the glass, heat rushing to your cheeks as he brought his hands on either side of your waist, fingers trailing down your arm as your skin grew hot under his feather-light touch. He brushed his fingers against your, his lips close to your cheek. He grasped the faucet, turning it on to wash his hands and you let out a shaky breath that got caught in your throat as he pressed his lips against your cheeks.
You turned on your heels, placing a hand on his chest and his eyes dropped to your fingers clinging to his shirt. He glanced back up and you pushed him back gently, letting out an annoyed huff and puffing out your cheeks, "I'm not fucking talking to you, you idiot."
You pushed past him, and he turned his head to look over you, his eyes trailing after you as you rushed towards the couch but he caught up to you, clasping his fingers around your wrist, "c'mon, y/n," he whined, a breathy laugh escaping his lips as you turned to him with a narrowed gaze, lips pulled up in an angry pout, "sweetheart, I even gave you daisies...c'mon, at least just talk to me–"
"God," your mom let out a frustrated grunt, fingers carding through her loose hair as she shut the refrigerator door, "you two are still fighting?"
He offered her a tight lipped smile, letting go off your hand and you stumbled back, grumbling profanities at him, "yeah...it's my fault but I did apologize–"
"Uh," you interrupted him, gaze flickering to him as you leaned against the kitchen counter, "not his fault–not entirely," you both kept things from each other, you couldn't let him take the blame, but you were still mad at him, "but mostly his, yeah," you shrugged.
"Aww, y/n," he cooed, poking your cheek, "is that your way of saying, 'i love you pete, you're forgiven, c'mon give me a hug' hmm?"
You swatted his hand away, "fuck off," you let out an annoyed huff, stumbling over to the couch as his eyes trailed after you, your cheeks heated up as you plopped down on the couch, burying your face in the pillows as he erupted into giggles.
He let out a gasp, placing a hand over his chest, feigning innocence, "I thought you weren't talking to me."
You picked your head, narrowing your gaze at him as you flipped him off, brushing the stray hair out of your face, "honestly, fuck you."
"peter, what did you do? She's mad mad, " your mom shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned her head towards him, a hint of smile on her lips as she leaned back on the counter, the edge digging against her waist, "daisies didn't work?"
He let out a strained laugh, his tone was measured, the hollow humor escaping his lips, hurt lingering in his words, "it didn't work, it was the first time daisies didn't work." He glanced at you, holding your gaze as he let out an exasperated sigh, "she even blocked me."
"You know her temper, honey," your mom motioned towards you and he nodded understandingly, frowning at you as you rolled over on the couch.
You grunted as you pushed yourself up, anger licked your insides as annoyance chipped away and you scowled at her, "don't talk like I'm not here," you grumbled, your hand outstretched in front of you, "I'm literally right here."
peter's gaze flickered to you, accidentally locking his eyes with yours for a split second, but he was quick to look away, focusing on your mom, "your daughter is cute when she's mad but also really fucking frustrating–"
"Language, peter," your mom gasped, her gaze drifting to you, her eyes growing wide, "dear god, you never swear–my daughter corrupted you." He shrugged, motioning towards you, pouting and feigning innocence, your mom shook her head, taking a deep breath as she turned to you, "y/n, maybe you shouldn't swear so much around him–"
He wasn't ass innocent as people believed him to be, he grinned when your mom focused on you and for a moment you were tempted to show her his search history, "eat shit, you sad fuck."
Your mom let out a defeated sigh, mumbling to herself, "why do I even try?"
"Liar," you threw your arms up in the air, sitting up on the couch, your fingers adjusting the neck of your hoodie, "don't act all innocent now, you're the one getting hickies from your girlfriend–not me and you didn't get me daises, stop fucking lying to my mom–"
He frowned at you, untying his apron as he moved across the room, towards you, "wait, I'm not lying. I did give you–I put a bouquet of daisies in your locker with a note," he pulled off the apron, flinging it the side that your mom caught before it hit the floor, rolling her eyes at him, "with that pink note–i even called you all the mushy words to get you to forgive me."
You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, "I didn't get any note, peter–or daisies," you picked at the stray strings at the hem of your hoodie, rolling your eyes at him,"I have no idea what you're talking about."
He shook his head, the crease on his forehead only deepening as his voice dropped to a whisper, "I did put that in your locker this morning, I know I did," he mumbled to himself and you shrugged.
"Hey," you mom placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "maybe you forgot, you have a tendency of forgetting things when you're stressed..." her eyes trailed towards you and you let out an annoyed huff.
"It does sound like you," you let out a bitter laugh, eyes meeting your mom's for a fleeting moment, your smile faltering, "don't look at me like I'm the problem, I hate stressing him out more than anything but he's the one who is at fault!"
He inhaled sharply, tilting this head to the side, "at least I am trying to apologize," he exclaimed, frustration seeping from his words, "you're not even trying."
"Why should I when it's your fault?" You cocked your eyebrow at him, slipping off the couch as he neared you, stopping a few steps away from you.
"You are the one who said that it wasn't entirely my fault."
"I take it back," you shrugged, stepping back as his gaze narrowed at you, jaw clenched, "it's entirely your fault, I take it back–" you stumbled back as a pillow hit your face, eyes growing wide as you let out a gasp as peter smirks down at you.
"Asshole," you let out a yell, pushing the stray hair out of your face, a yelp escaped his lips as your fingers curled around his arm and you tackled him down on the couch.
He grunted as you pushed yourself over him, your legs resting on either side of his waist, your fingers curled around the cushion resting on the end of the couch as he shrugged underneath you, his shirt riding up his stomach, revealing the strip of naked skin between he waistband of his jeans and the hem of his shirt.
"Y/n, ah–ow," he groaned as you hit him with a pillow, your cold fingers digging at the side of his waist to make sure he didn't move and he whined, his eyes squeezed shut as you landed another hit on his face.
"It's your fault–" your fingers gripped the edge of the pillow, letting it rest on his chest as he let his head drop back, panting and you leaned forward, your loose hair falling forward, tickling the skin of his neck as he picked his head up, "you're the one who hide things from me."
He held up his hands, pushing the pillow away from him as you chest heaved, you pulled yourself up, carding your fingers through your hair, pushing the strands of your that stuck to your face as he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth.
"You hide things from me as well," he said, licking his chapped lips as you hit him with the pillow again, he held up his hands above his face in defense, "ah Ms. Y/l/n your daughter is hitting me–"
"I'm not," you let out a cry of protest, letting the pillow hit his face and he groaned, trying to wiggle underneath you, you shifted on top of him, your fingers brushing against the scratchy material of the waistband of his jeans, the buckle of his belt digging into your thigh as you shifted forward, letting your pillow rest on his torso, "fucking liar."
He reached out to grip your waist to keep you in place as his fingers slipping under hoodie, brushing against your bare skin and you yelped, your grip loosening on the pillow, "you're so fucking annoying," he grunted, pushing you off of him but you pressed down, leaning forward.
Your fingers reached for his hands, prying his fingers off you and pinning them on either side of his head, narrowing your eyes at him as your chest heaved, "don't fucking talk to me, you fucking asshole."
He let out a breathy laugh, leaning his head back, panting heavily as your fingers tightened their hold on his wrists, pressing then against the couch, "If you don't want to talk to me then why are you wearing my hoodie?"
"I'll give your fucking hoodie back," you scowled at him, letting go off his wrists and pulling back from him, you reached for the hem off your hoodie, pulling it over your head, your undershirt rode up, exposing your bare skin to the chill of the air. Goosebumps rose on your skin and he reached forward to adjust your shirt as you pulled off your hoodie, throwing at it as his face. "I don't want it, stupid hoodie, everything about you is stupid."
He pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth, words muffled by your hoodie, "fuck you."
He pushed the hoodie aside, discarding it on the floor as you panted above him, your hair sticking up and you reached up to push the stray tendrils of your hair out of your face, shaking your loose hair as you carded your fingers through it.
A chuckle escaped your lips as you reached for he pillow, "you fucking wish–peter," you yelped as he snaked his arms around your waist, pulling you down against him as he rolled over, wrapping his legs around yours, his arms trapping your arms against your chest, locking you in, "what the actual fuck?"
He chuckled, lips brushing against your ear as he tightened his hold on you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and you sighed, letting your body fall limp against him, "no more hitting me with the pillow."
"let me go," you whined, letting out an annoyed huff as you struggled against his hold, kicking out your legs but your efforts went in vain as he laughed, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and you squirmed against him, "peter, c'mon–"
He pressed a sloppy kiss on the side of your face like he always did when he wanted to annoy you, eliciting a whine out of you as tried to rub your face against his chest, "what were you expecting, eh? I'm spider–"
You twisted in his arms, pushing yourself up as your fingers reached up to cover his mouth, muffling his words as you nodded towards your mom who was just a few steps away from you, wearing an exhausted expression on her face, "you're stupid, that's what you are."
His eyes grew wide as his gaze drifted towards her and he squeezed you, letting his head fall back, a laugh bubbling in his throat as a sigh of relief escaped his lips, "yeah, so fucking stupid."
"I have no idea how it is possible for you to be more childish than when you were kids," your mom laughed, shaking her head as she crossed the distance between her and the two of you. Her eyes trailed over your limbs twisted with him, a teasing smile tugged at her lips, "both of you say sorry and shake hands," she giggled, shaking her head, "if you both are going to act like kids then that's how I'll treat you–"
"I'm not apologizing to him," you pulled away from him, adjusting your shirt as you sat up, back resting against the arm rest of the couch, "he's stupid."
He pushed himself up, carding his fingers through his curls, pushing down his shirt as he sat up, his fingers working on his unbuttoned buttons at the bottom of his shirt, "and y/n is mean, annoying, and so, so frustrating–" he paused, the words dying in his throat as he sniffed, brows knitted in confusion, "oh–" his eyes grew wide as he stood up abruptly, standing up to his full height as he pointed at the oven, "the pizza–its burning."
"Oh my god," your mom was alarmed, rushing towards the oven, she grabbed a rag from the end of the counter and pulled open the oven, the smoke filling the living room as you coughed, stumbling over your feet as you made your way towards the kitchen, peter trailing right behind you.
He coughed as he pushed her aside gently, "open the windows, I got this," he reassured her but you stayed behind because peter parker, most definitely might need help in the kitchen because he most probably end up getting hurt–
"Uh, okay, I don't got this," he breathed out, reaching for the hurt pizza sitting on the scorching hot tray, "I don't know if I should do this without–"
"peter, you'll hurt yourself, use a cloth–"
"Ow–fuck," he yelped, pulling his finger back from the oven and you grasped his hand, rushing him towards the sink, you turned on the faucet and placed his hand under running water and he sighed, resting his forehead against your shoulder as you rubbed his upper arm comfortingly.
"It's okay," you reassured him, your voice soft and calm, the way it always was when you tended to his injuries as you pulled his hand back, examining the fingertip, "it's not that bad, you're good, it'll heal in a few hours, for you at least. "
He picked up his forehead, letting your fingers hold his hand delicately as he smiled down at you warmly, "thank you–"
"I told you not to use your bare fingers," you let out an exasperated sigh, your gaze flickering to him, eyes clouded with worry, "fucking idiot–that's common sense, peter–"
He chuckled, nodding towards the hurt fingertip, "hey, just because I have spidey sense, doesn't mean I have common sense, alright?"
You shook your head at him, letting go off his finger as you bit the inside of your cheek to muffle your laughter, you turned around, motioning towards the couch, "go sit down, I'll take care of it."
He shook his head, his fingers reaching for you as you turned on your heels, he tugged on the hem of your shirt, pulling you back until your back was to his chest, he held up his fingers, lips pulling up in a pout, "kiss it better for me," he mumbled, his soft voice fell on your ears, desperation lingering on his words as you turned to face him and he tilted his head, "please." 
You rolled your eyes, squinting at him as he held it up to your lips, you glanced back at him, his warm eyes staring intently into yours as you gasped his finger hesitantly, pecking the side of his finger, making sure not to hurt him, "better?"
A smile broke out on his face as you let go off his hand, letting it fall limp by his side as he beamed at you, his eyes crinkling, "much better." 
Your mom wiped her hands on the washcloth when she returned to the kitchen a few moments later, her fingers working on the lock of the last window to let the smoke out, she turned around, eyeing the tray sitting in the sink, under running water, "well there goes dinner."
Peter's eyes darted around the kitchen, "shit," he mumbled to himself, glancing at your mom who let out a defeated sigh.
"I guess I'll order something," your mom rushed towards the living room, picking up phone that previously rested on the coffee table, her eyes flickered to the clock that hung on the wall over the television, "we don't have any groceries so I can't make anything–I was going to go shopping later today, I'll go and," she paused, picking up the notepad from the coffee table and ripped a piece of paper from it, the grocery items were scribbled on either side, "I'll get the groceries then–"
"It's fine," you waved your hand dismissively, crouching down to slip on your shoes, barely tying your shoelaces as you grabbed the list from her hands, "you're tired from work, just order in something while I'm there, okay? I'll get it."
"Honey," your mom called after you as your fingers reached for the doorknob, you turned around, growing further confused as she held up the car keys, placing it in your palm, "take the car, it'll be easier to carry everything home."
You tilted your head to the side, fingers curling around the keys as you stared at her, dumbfounded, "but I don't know how to drive."
Her gaze flickered to peter, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she leaned forward to ruffle his hair and your gaze flickered to him, his confused eyes meeting yours, "he does."
Your eyes grew wide, gaze drifting away from him as you stepped back, the grip of your fingers tightened around the car keys as you shook your head frantically, "I'm not going anywhere with him."
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"Y/n, c'mon," he beckoned you over, his grip tightening around the handle of the cart as he glanced back at you, standing a few Isles away from him, "it isn't that bad to shop with me now–"
"It is, fuck–" you stepped forward, hands wrapped around yourself, rubbing your bare arms and cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket as your eyes darted around the store, there were barely any people in the store apart from the two of you, "shut up, I don't want to talk to you."
You had to go along with him, even after you made it clear you didn't want to go anywhere with him. You ended up in the car with him, the whole car ride he tried to talk to you, trying to get anything out of you but you didn't look at him and let yourself focus outside the window.
He exhaled sharply, glancing at your bare arms, "are you sure you don't want my jacket?"
"You've asked a million times," you grumbled, your hands gripping your bare arms as you shivered, biting your lip as you inhaled, the chill in the air making it hard for you to breathe, "and my answer is still no."
He rolled his eyes at you as he made his way towards you, unzipping his hoodie as he took your hand in his, his warm fingers brushing against your icy cold ones. He squeezed your fingers, bringing it up to his lips to blow on your fingers, his warm breath fell on your fingers and your breath hitched when his lips brushed against the back of your hand.
Heat rushed to your cheeks as you slipped your hand out of his grip, goosebumps rising on your skin as you cast your eyes down, grumbling, "I don't want to hold your stupid hand."
He shot you a look, a hint of smile on his face as he reached for your arm, pulling you closer, "I told you to bring a jacket–"
"I'm not cold–"
He took off his jacket, pulling you closer by your arm to wrap his jacket around you. You whined as he helped your arms into the jacket, adjusting it around your shoulder, his fingers pulling your hair that got caught beneath the jacket, letting it fall free.
His warm fingers brushed against your neck, your eyes fixated on his face as he nibbled on his pink lips, his cheeks rosy from the cold, eyes focused on you, you couldn't tear your gaze away from him even if you wanted to. 
He looked pretty under the broken light of the story, the light flickered above you, illuminating his face and he looked pretty, really pretty. If you could, you would've reached forward and pulled him in for a kiss, feel his soft lips on yours, taste him as you let him pull you closer. If you could you would've lost yourself in his eyes, you would've let yourself fall all over again but you knew he wasn't there to catch you in his arms, to break your fall. 
It wasn't easy to love someone when their heart was promised to someone else, love was sad, but it was a sadness that you've come to love, a sadness that you craved when you found yourself losing to the fantasy that you weaved where he loved you back. It was real, the sadness was your reality. 
Your love for him was a turning page for you, where the sweetest words remained, every cursive letter was a kiss you craved, every touch was a redefining phrase. You rewrote what love meant to you after you fell in love, it wasn't a need, it was a want, a choice and you chose to be in love with him when you knew he might never be yours. 
You were fighting a losing battle all along and now you surrendered to fate, even when you lose you're winning because you'd still hold his hand, you'd still get to see him smile no matter who's lips he kissed at night. He was your end and your beginning, all of you loved all of him. 
"You can stop staring at me," he mumbled, a teasing smirk etched across his face as he zipped up your jacket, fingers pushing the stray hair out of your face, "I know I'm gorgeously handsome." 
"It's not that…" you said with a monotonous tone, pointing at his face with a nonchalant shrug, "you just have something on your face." 
He nearly slapped the side of his face, his eyes growing wide as he let go of you, his brows furrowed as he touched his face as his cheeks warmed up, "what..where?" 
You let out a puff of laughter, reaching forward to hold him, fingers curling around the collar of his jacket as you leaned closer, giggles escaping your lips, "it's fine...you look okay, I was lying."
"Y/n." 
You smiled up at him, fingers covering your lips as you let out a muffled giggle, your palm splayed over his chest, "sorry, you look so cute when you're worried," he let out a sigh, a smile breaking out on his face, mirroring yours and your breath got caught in your throat. 
His smile made you melt like a candle. It lit you up, and you realized a lighted candle could only last so long, there might be a time where his smile won't be enough to keep your fire alive. You could take his matches away, but you'd rather burn yourself down to ashes for him than regret a lifetime without him. You didn't want to think about the moments after you'd burn yourself out, all you wanted was your fire to keep his heart warm till the end of your days. 
"Mr. Delmar was asking about you," you mumbled, letting go off him with a smile as you moved over to the next shelf, fingers tracing the products as you turned around to face him, he looked up, his hold tightening on the list, "he said he hasn't seen you in a while."
"Right..." he let out a nervous laugh, turning his head to face you as he pulled down a packet of potato chip from the top shelf, fingers gripping the plastic as he nibbled on his bottom lip, "yeah...I've been going to sub haven–gwen likes it, says it's the best sandwiches in queens, so I just thought I'd give it a try?"
You took the packet from his hands, dropping it in the cart as you shot him a pointed look, "sub havens is not the best sandwiches in queens, there's too much bread."
He nodded in agreement, his hands outreached in front of him as he moved closer to grab a jar of jam from the shelf right next to you, "that's what I said."
"Um, so..." you said, looking up at him hesitantly as he placed the jar in the cart, eyeing the list in his hand and you stepped closer, "how's things with the...girlfriend?"
He shrugged, his face hardening as he moved towards the next shelf, tension coating his features as he cleared his throat, "we are fine...yeah, we are good, w-why are you asking?"
"No reason," you shrugged, shuffling closer to him to check the list and he tensed as your fingers brushed against his when you reached for the list, "just checking up on you, that's all–oh, we need milk."
"Is that all?"
"um, no," you took the list for him, reaching forward to grip the handle of the cart, "there are still a lot of things we need to buy–"
"No, not that," he said a little too quickly, taking the list from you, nibbling on his bottom lip as he hesitated, "about what I said...you don't–you don't want to know what's going on?"
"peter, you just said everything was fine–"
"We've been fighting," he said, "you know that, but lately she's just so distracted, you know? I was...with her yesterday, after our..." he paused, inhaling sharply as he held your gaze, "after our fight, I was at her place and we got into another fight–about how I haven't been focusing on her much. I-I try to, I really do–"
"I know," you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I know you do, it's hard balancing everything–your spider-man duties, school, friends and now you have a girlfriend too, it is going to be hard, it's okay. I know you're doing your best, pete."
"That's... that's what i–she doesn't know that and," he shook his head, leaning against the side of the shelf as you let go of him, letting your hand fall limp by your side, "you get it, she doesn't. I was already stressed because of, you know, our fight, not to mention how harry has been acting–i just wanted some peace, she knows that I've been stressed but can't leave me alone for a fucking day. It just makes me feel like that I can't trust her enough to, to actually tell her about my secret, to depend on her."
"it's okay, peter, she's your soulmate," you said, the words heavy on your tongue as you tried to force a smile for him, "you'll work it out and if you don't that's okay too, but you said it yourself, you liked that you had a red string...you liked that you had a red string that led to her."
"I...that's not," he hesitated, eyes glossed with hurt as he cleared his throat, his voice breaking, "I mean...look at us, y/n, if I were to call you if I needed you even if we aren't talking to each other, you would, " he motioned towards you, running a hand through his hair as you fiddled with the string of his hoodie, "I know you would, but I don't understand her, after this morning, she was acting like nothing happened and...you saw that. In the cafeteria, she kissed me and I thought we were okay...but we never talked about it and then–Gwen skipped the last period, went home early and when I texted her to check in on her, she never replied. I just don't know if i–"
Your phone buzzed and you reached down to pull it out of your pocket, glancing up at him, eyes silently asking him to continue but he remained silent. You glanced down at your phone screen, a message popped up and you tapped on it.
Flash [8:45 PM]
sorry, I didn't walk you home today, I left school early. was busy. anyway, I have to talk to you about something important tomorrow.
You slipped the phone back in your pocket, looking up at him with a small smile, "nevermind, it was just Flash...what were you saying?"
He shrugged, stepping away from you as he flashed you a tight lipped smile, shoulders tensing as he tilted his head to the side, glancing at the list, "doesn't matter–"
"Are you sure–?"
"We can talk about it later, it's fine," he waved you off. "I need..." he shuffled closer to you, holding up the list and you looked up at him, dumbfounded, he glanced down at you, pointing at the list, "how many eggs are we supposed to get?"
You knew better than to push him when he made it clear he didn't want to talk about it so you took the list from his hand, shrugging as your eyes traced the words, "it just says eggs," you handed it back to him, looking up at him as you pushed the cart to the side gently, "call my mom and ask her."
He nodded, taking the list from your hand, reaching down to pull out his phone from his pocket and turned around. You moved closer, behind his back, your eyes flickering down to his phone.
You peeked over his shoulder, standing up on your tiptoes to catch a glimpse of his phone as he dialed your mom's number, your breath got caught in your throat, warmth blooming in your chest when your gaze fell on the wallpaper of his phone.
It was you, in your white dress and a tiara tilted to the side of your head, you were facing down, looking away from the camera with a hint of smile on your face, your bottom lip pulled in between your teeth. He took that picture years ago, after he got a camera for his birthday, he couldn't put it down for weeks and you were all he wanted to capture on the tiny screen of his camera.
His gaze flickered to you when your reached forward, your fingers brushing against the screen of his phone as you rested your chin on his shoulder, "that's me," you whispered, "I thought you lost the camera–"
"I found it," he smiled down at his phone screen fondly and you pulled away from him to stand by his side, your fingers gripping his arm as you leaned against him, your forehead knocking against his jaw and he chuckled, patting your head reassuringly when you looked up at him with concern, "I found it in a box in the storage," his gaze flickered to you and he let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling, "I found all the pictures."
Your face broke into a smile, "all the pictures from the day we had a sleepover at your place, too?" He nodded and you let out a giggle, curling into him, "you took so many pictures of me doing absolutely nothing," you teased, throwing your head back as you laughed as his cheeks turned red.
"You weren't doing nothing," he defended himself, coughing in the collar of his shirt as a shy smile tugged at his lips, "you looked pretty, you always do, I like taking pictures of you, to capture moment that I get to share with you, it's something to remember you by, a reminder, a hope, my strength and the reason I always come back to you," you gazed up at him, your heart racing in your chest, warmth spreading under your skin like wildfire as his warm fingertips brushed back your hair. He held your gaze, staring intently into your eyes as you struggled to look away but his amber eyes pulled you further in, you couldn't tear your gaze away from him, "you are my muse."
"You need to stop." You grumbled, leaning back on the large pillow tucked underneath the blankets. You pushed back your braid, letting out an annoyed huff when you found him leaning closer with the camera clutched in his hands from the corner of your eye.
"Peter," you groaned the moment the shutter of the camera went off, your fingers tightened around the broken black crayon, making an unexpected line on the paper your crayon was resting on. you gasped, your eyes growing wide as you looked back up at him, a sheepish smile on his face, "stop taking pictures of me, idiot!"
He let out a muffled giggle, his fist closing around the blanket resting over his lap, pushing it aside as he stood up on his knees. Your gaze flickered to the box of crayons you borrowed for him, they were strewn all over the blankets, a few rolled off the blankets and onto the floor.
"But you look really pretty," he argued, his hand reaching out for you but you leaned forward to pick up the crayons and place them back in the box, escaping from his touch.
He pouted when you glanced at him, his camera now resting in his lap. He had been carrying it around ever since Ben got it for him for his ninth birthday. His fingers were glued to the poor camera, he never let it out of his sight. Ben took him to the nearby park to take pictures, sometimes you tagged along with them but he always ended up taking your pictures instead so you remained home. After all it was their thing and you didn't want to intrude. 
It's barely been two months and he already had to tape it after he tripped while trying to chase a butterfly. You patched him up when you found him near the swingset in the playground, you tied your pink handkerchief around his knee and pressed a kiss on his cheek to take his pain away.
You could kiss his pain away, but you couldn't fix the camera. He was holed up in his room the entire day, upset that he had broken it. May called you over for a sleepover to cheer him up and by then Ben fixed the camera and he hadn't put it down in hours. It was getting on your nerves at this point but at least he was happy.
You liked it when he was happy so you let it slide.
You sat back on your heels, your fingers pressing against the skirt of your white dress, adjusting it before you leaned back against the foot of the bed. you leaned forward, your braids resting barely over your shoulder. You grabbed another crayon from the box and focused back on your drawing.
Peter shifted closer, reaching up to adjust the tiara on your head that tilted to the side, on the verge of falling off your head. Your hand instinctively reached for it and your gaze flickered to him. He gave you a soft smile and retracted his hand.
"It's just..." a light blush coated his cheeks, the golden fairy lights that hung over your pillow fort casted a golden glow on his face. The string of lights were roped around the bedsheets that were pulled up to the window, tied it to the windowsill. You were surrounded by pillows and blankets, Peter had his stuffed panda wrapped under his arm when he crawled into the fort. You glanced back at him and he hesitated, fiddling with the end of his pajama shirt. "you're really pretty, y/n."
Your cheeks warmed up at his words and you looked away, "May said you're supposed to take pictures of things that make you happy."
"You make me happy."
Your gaze flickered to him, the look in his warm eyes led your heart to race in your chest. He let the words slip from his lips with such ease, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You kept these moments close to your heart, these moments of wonder was what you craved when you were apart. You felt light when you were close to him, being around him was like a breath of fresh air, few moments of serenity in the bustle of the city. It was a feeling that you knew was too hard to find.
Yet you found it, you found it with him. You got your white string for him not too long ago, it was the first and the only white string you had for someone and you were glad it was him. Everything changed the moment he stepped into your life, you liked it when he was around, you liked it when he was close to you with his fingers interlaced with yours.
You leaned forward on impulse, your hand pressed against the fluffy blanket in between the two of you. You startled him by pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pulled back he had a giddy smile on his face, he tilted his head to the side, his breath caught in his throat.
"What was that for?" You were inches away from his face when he asked you in a small voice, his breath hot against yours. His fingers reached up to touch the corner of his cheeks in a daze.
"You're cute," you said, nudging his nose with yours and he cracked a smile, pressing his forehead against yours.
You pulled away from him, a giggle escaping your lips when he tucked the stray hair behind your ear, his warm fingers tracing the soft skin of your neck. he shifted closer, his skinny arms on either side of you, wrapping it around you. he rested his chin on your shoulder, his gaze falling upon the piece of paper that laid on your lap.
He tilted his head towards you, his curls ticking your neck, "what's this?"
You glanced down at your drawing, a soft smile making its way to your lips when you reached for it, your fingertips brushing against the figures you traced on the paper, "it's a card for my mom and dad and this–" you held it up, your eyes darting to him, "it's a family drawing."
He took the drawing from your hand, "it's good."
You cocked your brow at him, nervousness coating your features as his eyes traced the figures. you wished you had a little more time so you could draw it all over again, maybe you could've tried to not colour outside the line. you could've used different colours, you still had to colour the sky and the–
"Who is this?" he jerked you out of your thoughts when he pointed at the paper. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth when you followed his gaze, his finger pointing at the figure who held hands with the figure that was supposed to be you.
"You."
He set the paper down, his gaze flickering to you, the crease on his forehead only deepening, "I'm in your family drawing?"
You simply smiled, "you are my family too."
His cheeks warmed up at your words, he swiped his tongue over his chapped lips, picking at his chipped nails as a shy smile made its way to his lips. He stumbled over his words, looking up at you through his lashes, embarrassed. Your face broke out into a smile when you reached for his hands, interlacing your fingers with his warm, nimble fingers. 
You pulled his hand towards you, the sleeve of his shirt slipping, revealing the pink bracelet you made for him on his birthday. Your gaze flickered to him, eyes asking a silent question that he didn't seem to catch. 
"You're still wearing it," you said, shaking your head when your fingers brushed over the beads bound together by the thin thread, you spent hours over this simple bracelet. You had made one for yourself too, you wanted to match with him but you weren't wearing it so he didn't feel pressured to wear his. You were shocked to see it on his wrist, you weren't sure if he'd still wear it after–
He cocked an eyebrow at you, "...yeah?" 
"I didn't think you would still wear it–" 
He rolled his eyes, his eyes tracing the bracelet as he slipped his hand out of your grip, "I like it and you made it for me, it doesn't matter to me what they say." 
You fell silent, reaching for his hand once again. You didn't like it when people bothered him, it wasn't the first time you caught someone being mean to him, this time it was about wearing a "girly" bracelet, sometimes it was about the way he dressed, the way he looked, the way he was the smartest kid in class. It wasn't the first time someone picked on him, tried to tear apart his happiness to shreds and you knew for a fact, it won't be the last. 
You always looked out for him, you always tried to be friends with the people who bothered him, this way you could stop them and maybe they'll listen to you. If none of that worked, you would surely not back down from cussing them out when they bothered him. 
"I'm sorry…" your head jerked towards him, his head hung low, "you always stand up for me when they–you know. I can't. I wish I was brave like you." 
You shook your head, squeezing his fingers, "but you are brave," you tried to convince him, a small smile spreading across your lips when you leaned towards him, "like iron man."
"I'm not," he blushed, a soft giggle escaping his lips when you pulled him closer. 
You brushed his curls away from his eyes, "you are, you are a hero," your fingers trailed down his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone when you hummed lovingly, "you are my hero."
Your words stirred something in him, his chest blooming with warmth when you patted his cheek, giggling softly. His skin burned under your touch, his heart racing when you trailed your finger down his neck, letting your hand rest on his shoulder. 
His gaze flickered to your hand resting on his shoulder and his stomach twisted, letting himself get enveloped in the arms of an unexpected feeling that he couldn't comprehend. He didn't know what it was but he liked it...he never ever wanted to let go of it, let go of you.
"Let's uh…" he coughed, heat rushing to his cheeks as he pushed himself up, standing up to his full height. He couldn't be alone with you anymore, he wanted to but he wasn't sure his heart could take it when you were so cute. He held out his hand for you when he caught you looking up at him, seated comfortably on the floor. He only blushed harder under your gaze when he set his eyes upon you, he turned his head, clearing his throat. "May–I want to show her, uh, my b–bracelet. Yes! I want to show her my bracelet." 
"You've already shown her your bracelet." You stated flatly, tilting your head in confusion. 
"I want to show her again." He insisted.
You rolled your eyes, giving in. You grasped his fingers, letting him pull you up. He wrinkled his nose, trying to pull you up and let his shoulder slump, letting out an exaggerated sigh. You punched his shoulder, letting out an annoyed huff and walked into the living room and he trailed after you, his giggles filling the room. 
"May," you called out, running up towards the couch, annoyance seeping from your words but when you glanced back at him, he found you smiling and his eyes widened when your expression morphed into false annoyance, "your nephew is–"
You came to a halt, your words dying on your tongue when you found her dozed off on the couch along with Ben, they were a tangled mess, curled into each other for warmth. You stepped forward, your fingers slipping off your tiara and placing it near the table where the television was kept. You leaned forward, switching off the television. 
"It's almost bedtime anyway," your gaze flickered to the side to find him covering them up with a blanket. He tucked them in, taking off May's glasses and keeping it aside on the coffee table. He smiled softly at them and you found yourself smiling along with him, he leaned down, his voice dropping to a whisper, "good night." 
Your fingers tightened on the sleeves of your dress, your eyes darted to him when he stepped away from them, nodding towards his room when you locked eyes, "they really love each other, huh." 
You let the words slip from your lips, shocking you, your eyes widened when he briskly walked towards you, taking your hand in his as he pulled you to his side, his shoulder brushing against yours. "Yeah…" his gaze flickered to them, "yeah, I guess they do." 
Your glance at him from the corner of your eye, his face glowing under the light illuminating the kitchen and a part of the living room. You leaned closer to him, clearing your throat as your lips quivered, "my…" you sniffled, gaining his attention, "my mom said she loves daddy too but–but they fight sometimes." 
"Is..is everything okay?" 
"Yeah, yeah!" You responded a little too quickly, trying to convince yourself more than him, "just–last night I heard him talking to mom and he said...he said he wanted to leave." 
peter fell silent, his hand finding yours in the dark, squeezing your fingers. He didn't say anything but his silence was enough to urge you on to continue so you let the words tumble from your lips. 
You took a shaky breath, "people who love each other shouldn't fight."
His fingers clasped around your wrist, turning his head to face you, "they do sometimes," he tried to reason, "we fight too but we love each other." 
"Yeah but I won't leave you," you protested, tilting your head to the side when you wrapped his arm around your shoulder, dropping a kiss on your temple, "family is supposed to be forever. I won't leave you."
"I'd love you," he croaked, his hushed whisper making your heart flutter, a strange sensation erupted in your stomach that you couldn't put a name on, "I'd love you forever. I'd love you to the moon and back."
"I love you too," you sniffled, trying to blink away your tears but he caught it, he placed his warm hand on your cheek, pulling you in his warm embrace. you let your head fall on his shoulder, "I'd love you to the moon and to saturn. Ha! I love you more."
He giggled, patting your head as you hummed against his shirt, "you know there are more planets after saturn, right?" 
You rolled your eyes when you looked up at him, "I don't remember them," you whined, playfully pinching his arm, making him yelp, "I know you're a genius, shut up."
"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes and you twisted your arms around him, tightening your hold as he pressed a kiss on the crown of your head. 
"I like it better when I'm with you," you said, smiling at him softly, "I like spending time with you more than when I'm at home."
"You can always come live with me," he said, patting your back comfortingly as you pulled back, the stray hair that slipped out of your braids stuck to your wet cheeks that he was quick to brush away. "You will always have a home here, with me."
You sniffled, wiping your nose with the back of your hand as a small broke out on your face, tears brimming your eyes.
You reached for his hand, his eyes trailed down to your interlaced fingers then back up at you, a small blush tinting his cheeks as you squeezed his fingers.
"You are my home."
“Is that spiderman theme condoms?” His words pulled you out of your daze, and you blinked at him, fingers reaching for him to make sure he was actually here, by yours side and not just a figment of your imagination.
You followed his gaze, the weight of his words finally settling as you cracked a smile, a puff of laughter escaping your lips as you pushed past him and towards the shelf where all the products were lined up.
Your eyes traced the pack of condoms in front of you, the spiderman logo felt foreign on the package, you glanced back at him, a teasing smile on your face, “when did spider-man become a sex symbol?”
He tilted his head, his arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging in his tight shirt, you let your eyes drift down his torso, soaking in his features. He barely wore tight shirts, his plaid shirt that he recently bought hugged his figure perfectly, he always wrapped himself up in layers and loose clothes to hide how he looked under his clothes.
It was a precautionary step he took in order to hide the fact that he was spider-man, which was suggested by you a few years ago, out of pure concern and the need to shield him away from the prying eyes of anyone who wanted him merely because of how he looked.
“I don’t know actually,” he licked his lips, inhaling sharply as he held up the package, a blush coating his cheeks, he was shy but he was trying his best to look unfazed by the pack of condoms he held under his scrutinizing gaze, “it’s…it’s kinda cool.”
“It’s cool that people actually have sex with that–” you pointed at the package, “wrapped around their dick?” you cocked your eyebrow at him and he visibly shuddered, scrunching up his nose in disgust as you erupted in a fit of giggles.
“It’s weird when you put it like that,” he pretended to gag, placing the package back on its designated place as he pulled out the list from his pocket, “ew, y/n, why do you always think of stuff like that?”
You blinked at him, “who doesn’t think of sex when they are holding a fucking condom in their hand, pete?”
His cheeks turned crimson at your words, his eyes cast down as he shuffled towards the other end of the isle, clearing his throat as his eyes darted around the store and you sneaked a package of spiderman theme condoms in the cart, hidden under a pack of potato chips.
“I think we’re done,” you chirped, hands behind your back as you shifted foot to foot and leaned against him as he fumbled with the list, gaze flickering between you and the list.
"But–but we still haven't asked your mom about the–" he stumbled over his words and you placed a hand on his forearm, squeezing it and he relaxed under your touch as you ran your hand up and down his arm, "relax, I'll get it later on, I'm hungry, and I know you are too, let's go home."
He hummed, folding the list and placing it back in his pocket as he pushed the cart, eyes scanning the store to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything else on the list, while you walked alongside him, your shoulders nudging him, trying to gain his attention.
"You know," you looked up, fingers curling around the handle of the cart beside him as he glanced down at you, a smile tugging at his lips, "I locked myself in my room yesterday, May thought I wasn't home and when I walked out to get snacks, I was traumatized–"
You gasped, your hand latching onto his arm as your eyes grew wide, your fingers covering your mouth as he forced a tight lipped smile when he took in your reaction, "don't tell me they were..."
He coughed, his hand reaching up to rub his face in frustration as you cracked up, leaning against him as he hid his face behind his hand, "they were–and god, happy is into weird kinky shit, y/n. I can never look at him the same way," he cried out, inhaling sharply, tugging at the collar of his shirt, "anyway, I sat them down after they were both," he cleared his throat, "dressed, and I asked him what his intentions were with my aunt–a man to man talk."
"I think you need to go through puberty first to be a man," you pointed out and he wrinkled his nose, glaring at you from the corner of his eye.
"I am spider-man, man," he tried to convince you, giving up when you shrugged nonchalantly and continued, "anyway, I ended up messing things up in between them–" he let out an exasperated sigh, "happy thinks they are dating and may said it was a–"
"summer fling," you finished for him, causing him to eye you up, confusion clouding his eyes as you let out a small laugh, "it's november."
"why do you know about my aunt's summer fling?" he cocked his eyebrow at you and you smirked, reaching up to fix his hair as you chuckled softly, he let out a soft breath, relaxing under your touch, "nevermind, of course you do, sometimes it's like she loves you more than me."
You giggled as he shuffled into the checkout line, you eyed the counter, your hand reaching for your bag and fuck–
"I forgot my bag," you mumbled to him, as he turned to stack items onto the conveyor belt, he glanced at you, eyebrows raised and you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, helping him stack the items, "I forgot my bag–I don't have any money."
He blinked at you, a small smile spread across his lips, his hand finding yours, squeezing it reassuringly, "I got it, don't worry about it," he said, squeezing your fingers again, the cashier noticed your distress and turned away, focusing on the items, "you can pay me back when we get home."
You protested, "but–"
"I got it, don't worry," he smiled down at you, pulling out his wallet as he leaned against you, pulling you closer by your arm, "did you forget that i have an actual internship at the stark industries?"
You let out a short huff, letting go off his fingers as your eyes darted to the screen where the amount displayed, "fine," you mumbled as you watched him pull out his card to pay, handing it over to the cashier, "shit, I keep forgetting a billionaire basically adopted you."
He nudged your shoulder, shooting you a pointed look as he furrowed his eyebrows, "I don't use his money," you raised your eyes at him teasingly and he let out a nervous laugh, "I make my own, from my blood, sweat and tears–" 
"I know you do," you smiled up at him warmly, reaching up to push his hair back, you let your fingers fix the hair sticking up, blaming it on your urge to tame his hair but it was just an excuse to keep touching him, "it's great, you get to do what you love and you get to work for the pepper potts–"
"Ms. Potts was asking about you by the way," he said, cracking a smile as you let your fingers fall back and he struggled to not let his smile falter when his eyes traced your fingers by your side, missing your warmth, "I stopped by the compound last weekend and she was asking how you were–she said morgan missed you." 
"I haven't seen her in a while," you let out a puff of air, "I miss morgan too," you beamed up at him and he mirrored your smile, "tell her if she wants me to babysit again, I'm available–"
"Uh," the cashier gained your attention, his fingers wrapped around the packet of condom and peter's eyes widened, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red as his gaze flickered to you and you bit back a laugh, "interesting...choice," the cashier let's out a muffled laughter and peter groans against the croon of your neck as the cashier puts all the items in the bag.
"I…" peter stuttered, stumbling over his words as he shot you a pointed look, eyes wide, "t-thats not ours, I didn't–we didn't, it was not–"
"He likes spider-man," you flashed the cashier a smile as peter's grip tightened on your arm, completely flabbergasted by your words as he stared at you in horror, you shot him a teasing smirk, focusing back on the cashier with an intention to embarrass him further, "a lot." 
He coughed as the cashier chuckled, glancing at him, "good for you man, at least your girl doesn't mind trying things you like."
Heat rushed to your cheeks at his words and his grip tightened on your arm, you looked up at him, a hesitant smile on his face, "you know," you let out a forced laugh, your eyes tracing his rosy cheeks as he turned to hide his face in the collar of his shirt, "whatever he wants to do, I'm up for anything." 
He chocked on his spit, spluttering as the cashier raised an eyebrow at the two of you, and he coughed, his gaze drifting to you as he struggled to string together words to call you out, he leaned closer, hiding his face in the crook of your neck, his words muffled by your skin, "I hate you." 
You wound your fingers in his hair, pulling his face up to catch a glimpse of his flustered face, letting out an uncharacteristic giggle, "aww babe, I love you too." 
He let out a defeated sigh, pulling himself back up as he flashed the cashier a tight lipped smile as he handed him his card back, "thank you and…" he glanced at you, "sorry about her."
"It's cool," the cashier chuckled, his gaze fell on you and he winked as he handed him the bag, "have a nice night." 
You cracked up as peter let out a groan, taking the bag from him, he handed it to you and he focused back on his wallet, opening it to slide the card back in and your gaze flickered down–
Your heart stopped, eyes growing wide in horror as you eyed his wallet, your gaze flickering up to him, a million questions threatening to spill from your lips as you stiffened under, a shaky breath escaping your lips. He smiled down at you as he slipped his wallet back in his pocket, taking the bag from you as he held your hand, leading out of the store. 
He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, the chill in the air making you shudder, he glanced at you, his words drowned out by the bustle of the city, your thoughts weighing down on you. You couldn't hear him, you couldn't focus on anything other than the fact that he– 
He didn't have her picture in his wallet anymore.
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"It's a great idea, I am telling you, it will work."
"I am not making out with a random guy to make him jealous, flash," you said, rolling your eyes at him as you opened your locker, placing your books inside and he let out a groan, leaning his head against the locker that was right next to yours.
"I already have everything planned, y/n," he whined, letting out an exasperated sigh, "my parents won't be home for the entire week in december, i already have a room prepared if you and peter fuck it out after he gets really jealous–"
"Eugene, you are not throwing me a fucking party so I can make out with a random guy just to make peter jealous enough to sleep with me," you elbowed him and he cried out, holding his side as you rolled your eyes, sorting out the next books you needed in the locker.
"Y/n," you turned your head to the side at the new voice, you cracked a smile when you watched ned walk over to you, a smile on his face, "we have the next class together, I'll walk you."
"Aw thanks neddy," you said, taking your books out of the locker, you beamed up at him, "let's go together, I can't hear more of flash's plans into making me sleep with peter."
"I am trying to do you a favor," he grumbled and you narrowed your eyes at him, "you want to sleep with peter, and you will, at some point, I'm just speeding up the process."
"fuck you."
"no, you fuck peter."
You wrinkled your nose, turning to face ned, "ignore him, where's harry? he was late to the class last time and mrs. bailey was not happy."
"Harry is hanging out with his boyfriend," Flash piped in and you cocked an eyebrow at him as he chuckled, "peter and harry patched things up, and he made peter wear that friendship bracelet he gave him a while ago? I don't know the details but both boys look at each other like they found real love."
You puffed out a laugh, "I think MJ and I should get together, they both look pretty happy together–"
He let out a frustrated grunt, "what about my plan to make him jealous–?"
"He won't get jealous because he doesn't like me like that, you fucking idiot," you squinted at him, nibbling on your bottom lip, "your idea is a flop."
"It's not," he gasped, deeply offended by your words, "he hates seeing you with me–"
"He hates you, I already told you," you shrugged, shaking your head, "he hates you, that's literally it."
"I don't think so–"
"Y/n might be right," ned piped in, flashing him a tight-lipped smile, "peter was so frustrated with him that when he came over, he spent thirty minutes punching the pillow–we named it flash, like. in middle school to get our frustration out because you bullied him–" he explained to him as flash stared at him in horror, ned glanced at you, "you know that pillow? yeah, he ripped it apart."
"I don't think you were supposed to tell me that," Flash mumbled and you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth to make sure you didn't laugh.
"I can't help it," he protested, "I have so many secrets that I have to keep, some of them are going to come out–"
"Hi," you turned your head at the new voice, forcing a smile when you locked eyes with gwen, her eyes darted around the three of you, "I hope I'm not interrupting–"
Flash glanced at her, his face hardening as his gaze drifted from her, his hold tightened around his books, "I am just gonna go–"
"Hey–" her eyes widened at his words and she hesitated, stepping towards and you and ned exchanged a confused look, "you don't have to go because of me...please stay."
He fell silent but didn't move from his place and she smiled at him gratefully.
"I was just saying..." her smile falters when her gaze flickered to him, and you shift under under gaze, flashing her a tight-lipped smile," yeah...I know you both are fighting," her gaze fell on you and she paused, "I know you miss peter–I know you do and I feel really bad about that, maybe you can come with us to get some ice cream after school, how about coffee? peter told me you liked delmar's sandwiches, we could go over there if you want–"
"It really isn't..." you shifted uncomfortably, gaze flickering towards ned, asking for help but he shrugged, frantically pouting at her, "it isn't necessary, peter and I are fine, thank you, though."
"Y/n," her voice was desperate, eyes holding your gaze, "I hate when people fight, I really hate it and if I can do something to patch things up between the two of you then I would, it's fine! I'd love to help, I don't like seeing him so sad, he deserves all the love and care in the world and–"
"I am leaving," flash let out a frustrated grunt, his eyes searching for yours and you turned around to face him, brows furrowed as he clenched his jaw, "I'll see you later, y/n, bye."
Her words died on her lips as her eyes trailed after him, her cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. Her gaze flickered to you and she blinked, forcing a smile as she pointed towards where he went, "I hope you don't mind if I go..."
"Its fine," you waved your hand dismissively, growing further confused when she took off after him and you watched her catch up to him at the end of the hallway, only for him to leave her alone as he entered a classroom and she hesitated before following him.
"Huh, what a manipulative bitch," Ned mumbled, his hushed words fell on your ears and you gasped, your eyes growing wide in horror as you stared at him.
"Ned!"
"I didn't–" he glanced at you, wide eyed, shaking his head frantically as he threw his arms up in the air, "those are not my words, that's what harry said to me yesterday–he was filling me in about everything that has happened, I think she is really nice actually, though she shouldn't be stealing your man–not my words," he cried out, wrinkling his nose.
You let out a puff of laughter, shaking your head at him as you shut your locker, glancing at him with a small smile, "this is going to be a big problem for you, neddy. Anyway, I'll go run to the bathroom real quick, I'll see you in class."
You handed him your books and quickly walked through the doors of the bathroom, heaving a sigh of relief when you found yourself alone, it was quite rare but you were happy to be alone for a while, you needed it. 
You walked over to the sink, turning on the faucet, washing your hands under the running water when you heard the creak of the door opening, letting out a groan when you heard footsteps nearing you. 
"Hi," you jerked your head to the side at the new voice, holding your breath as gwen strolled over to you, a hesitant smile on her face as she glanced at the mirror, her eyes meeting yours, "I was looking for you, sorry about earlier..."
"It's fine," you turned to her, flashing her a smile, you had a million questions, threatening to spill from your lips, weighing you down but you shook your thoughts away, focusing on her, "it's fine...I know him, he's a little difficult to deal with...hope everything words for the two of you, though.
"I..." she hesitated, her eyes flickering to you, struggling to hold your gaze as she leaned back against the sink, inhaling sharply, "I needed to talk to you...you know, about what I was talking about...earlier."
You turned off the faucet, wiping your hand on the hem of your shirt as you nodded, pulling your bottom lip in between the two of you, "I wanted to talk to you as well, just didn't know how to..." you glanced at her, "I'm sorry..." her eyes grew wide, stepping forward but you held up your hand, "I'm really, really sorry for the way I acted–that day. I was just frustrated and I accidentally took it all out on you...you didn't deserve that. I'm sorry."
"No, y/n," she shook her head and you let your hand fall limp by your side when you looked up at her, "I've been meaning to talk to you about that day for a while now..." she hesitated, her eyes darting around the bathroom as she let out a soft breath, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have tried to... it wasn't my place to say anything. I didn't mean to get in between the two of you."
"I don't..." you furrowed your brows, frowning at her words as you stepped closer to her, "what are you talking about–?"
"god, y/n," she let out an exasperated sigh, squeezing her eyes shut she leaned away from the sink, fingers fumbling with the hem of her sweater, "I just can't help but think I...its me who is creating problems between the two of you."
"Gwen that's not true–"
"it is, y/n," her eyes dropped down to her hands as she interlaced her fingers together, lowering her voice as she swallowed dryly, sniffling, "It is. I've known you both for years. I've never seen you both apart for more than two days. That's all it took for you to get over your fight. but ever since...ever since I kissed him–things between the two of you have been so fragile. you two barely talk to each other–"
"that's not true," you tried to convince her, your voice cracking as you pinched the bridge of your nose, "w-we do talk. He is my friend. He will always be."
"y/n, he misses you. I've never seen him like this. never. you two are–you're you. peter and y/n. I do notice how you two are drifting apart," she tilted her head to the side, her voice a hushed whisper, "everyone does."
"I...I missed him too but god," you let out a defeated sigh, running your fingers through your hair, "none of this is your fault. we have our own issues–"
"I still can't help but think it was me who is responsible for all this, that–that I made the wrong choice."
You fell silent at her words, her eyes glossed with panic as you cast your eyes down, at complete loss of words when your gaze flickered to her, her eyes brimming with tears which she was quick to blink away.
"I'm trying to make something work which is completely hopeless. I keep...I keep trying my best and I know that he's trying to but his heart is not in it," her voice breaks, breath hitching as she exhaled sharply, eyes struggling to hold your gaze, "I'm just trying to hold onto something–someone who isn't supposed to be mine. I keep fucking up and I don't know why I am doing this to myself, to him, to you. I just–I love him but–"
"I'm sure he," you paused, the word falling from your lips, tearing your heart apart, "l-loves you too–"
"He doesn't," her voice was hollow, hurt lingering in her tone as she took a shaky breath, "you and I both know that."
Your breath hitched, her eyes gazing into yours, clouded with hurt and you held your breath, your chest tightening as you struggled to breath under her gaze and a part of you couldn't help but think that she knew that you were in love with him, dreamed of his lips at night and craved his touch, she knew.
"I-I never meant to get in between the two of you, I never wanted to be a problem," you griped the hem of your shirt, your fingers trembling, "I swear–I didn't. I'll talk to him, okay? I'll try to knock some sense into him. He should be focusing on you and not me–anyone else."
"You don't get it," her eyes drifted away from you, "he cares about you–"
"he cares about you too."
"I know that, I do," she let out a frustrated sigh, holding your gaze, "but he will always, always care about you more than anything else in this entire world."
"that's not true," you struggled to string words together, you never wanted to ruin his relationship for him, you never wanted to be that person, "he is your soulmate. his red string connects to you. I'm nothing compared to that. you don't have to worry about me, I promise–"
"His what?" Her words caught your attention, words dying on the tip of your tongue when you glanced at her, growing further confused at her questioning eyes.
"His red string."
"y/n..." she frowned at you, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth, "I don't have a red string for him. I don't have any string for him. and if he did have a string for me, I'd feel it."
"You..." your heart stopped, grip tightening on the hem of your hoodie, "do you feel it?"
"I feel nothing."
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next: part five - missing your smile
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a/n: special thanks to @thefallenbibliophilequote​ for helping me with this chapter and @selfcarecap​ for cheering me on!! all two of them are angels and I wouldn’t have posted this if it weren’t for them
i know i’m super late with this chapter, i am not really proud of it because it was rushed and not really my best, but its fine. okay, now we know peter’s a liar, come scream at me in inbox if you want, lmk know what you think!!
I will be tagging my permanent taglist. send an ask/comment/dm if you want to be added or dropped from this series taglist.
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wolken-himmel · 5 months ago
Text
In which (Y/n) hosts a Halloween party! She's dressed up as a princess, which somehow automatically activates Malleus' dragon instincts.
'Kidnap the princess and put her in a tower,' his mind tells him — as cliche as it sounds — and so, he does exactly that.
I know it's not Halloween but the idea won't leave my head so bear with me aiqhsuaha
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"Grim, have you put the cobwebs up, yet?"
You pranced through the lounge of Ramshackle, a big bowl of popcorn and bags of chips from Sam's shop under your arm. As best as you could, you made sure not to bump into the skeletons and hollowed-out pumpkins that stood around the room as decoration. Eventually, you arrived by the buffet table, where you threw everything in your arms onto the surface with a loud huff.
Who knew how hard it was to organise a Halloween party?
Grim came strolling in, his head held high and mighty as to not let the crown around his ears slip off his head. He smacked the bottom of his golden cane against the creaky flood of the Ramshackle lounge in exasperation. "Are you blind, or do you not see the crown on my head?" he grumbled, pulling the red cape over his shoulders with an angry huff.
"I'm sorry." You rolled your eyes, doing a curtsy for your ruler. Grabbing the billowing and swishing fabric of your (F/c) princess-gown, you said, "King Grim of Ramshackle, have you put up the cobwebs, yet?"
The cat hummed in satisfaction and began to laugh. "Much better, my princess." He marched right past you and grabbed a few cans of tuna you had specifically put there for him — but for later, not for now. You furrowed your eyebrows in irritation when he began to peel open a can; the party hadn't even started yet. The cat ignored your protests, merely replying, "And no, why would I put up fake cobwebs? There are plenty natural cobwebs there already."
You held your head in frustration, letting out a drawn-out sigh. Then, you lowered your hands again to glare at the mighty cat. "And have Ace and Deuce returned from getting Trey's tarts yet?" you asked, your fingers impatiently tapping against the surface of the buffet table.
"No, my dear princess," Grim said, putting on a posh accent, "the knights have not returned yet."
You were about to complain to the ghosts of the old building when the sound of the doorbell ringing echoed throughout the high ceilings of this place. Rolling your shoulders and putting on a smile, you happily announced, "Ah, the first guests have already arrived." Grim didn't look like he would be so kind and open the door — no, such a task was below the great king. So, it naturally fell to you. "Let me see who it is."
You made your way to the front door, making sure the little tiara on your head hadn't moved from its original position before opening the door. Your gloved hand rested on the door knob as you found the Diasomnia quartet standing on your door step.
Lilia, who was dressed like a vampire, flashed you a smile that showed off his pearly white fangs. "Good evening, (Y/n)—" he chirped, but stopped himself once he realised as what you had dressed up in. He had to hold back a chortle as he gazed you up and down. "Oh my, are you a princess?"
"A princess?" Malleus repeated, your costume somehow having managed to catch his attention. His pupils dilated into slits, and he suddenly felt something draconic awaken inside of him. A princess — perfect for kidnapping. Wait, what was he thinking? No, he couldn't do that. Malleus was snapped out of his thoughts when you stepped aside and allowed them entry to your humble abode.
"Indeed, gentlemen, I am Princess (Y/n) of Ramshackle!" you announced, doing a little curtsy that served well to entertain the three Diasomnia students. Upon straightening your back, you waved them inside. "Do come in. Do come in. I hope you'll enjoy the party."
You snickered as they walked past you — well, Silver wasn't with them since he had fallen asleep while getting into his costume. Sebek, who was dressed up as a real knight in shining armour, shot you small smile to thank you for the invitation. He immediately made a bee-line to the buffet table to get a drink for his young master, who very much fittingly, was dressed like a dragon.
You felt Malleus' stare lingering on your frame as you gently shut the door again. Before you could run off to scold Grim for not being a good host, Malleus had already grabbed you by your wrist. "You look— marvellous, dear," he drawled as he raised your gloved hand to his lips to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Like a true princess..."
Laughter spilt from your lips as you wholly turned around to face him properly, suddenly forgetting about how Lilia and Grim were having a sword-fight by the fireplace. "Thank you! Vil made the dress for me, and I love it!" you swooned, turning your torso so your puffy dress would dance around your ankles. The motion very much managed to entrance Malleus, and a mischievous grin appeared on his lips. "You look good yourself, Sir Dragon!"
Malleus laughed as you curiously peered around him to get a glimpse of the tail you had spotted earlier. It seemed to have a life of its own as it curled around your waist and pulled you closer to him, evoking a little gasp from your lips.
"I thank you, my precious princess." Malleus smiled, his eyes flashing in an eerie way; yet, his voice was so sickeningly sweet that it did a good job at hiding his intentions as he asked, "Say, could I kidnap you for a little while?"
"Kidnap?" you repeated, tilting your head to the side and causing your tiara to almost slip off. Malleus hummed in amusement as he let go of your hand, and extended his own hands to fix the tiara on your head. "You mean, if you could speak with me privately for a second?"
Malleus' smile grew to a size bigger than his face, and the aura he exuded turned almost cold to a point where you shivered slightly. "Yeah sure, that's what I meant," he muttered and shrugged innocently.
"Yes of course," you retorted, briefly turning around to find Lilia standing atop Grim, the heel of his boots digging into the latter's squishy stomach. Laughing and shaking your head in amusement, you returned your attention to Malleus. "I'm sure King Grim will manage just fine without me if it's just for a short while."
Malleus hummed in satisfaction, and his tail retreated back to its original position. Instead, he offered his forearm out for you to take, and you took it gratefully. He led you straight out of the front door, excited that you were coming on your own accord. "Great!" he chirped happily. "I have a fancy tower to show you."
After approximately half an hour, Ramshackle started to get fuller with guests of various dorms. Grim, being small as he was, had a hard time getting through the crowd that inhabited the lounge. He was searching for you, but no matter where he looked, he just couldn't find you. The cat was both irked and concerned at that — he just hoped you were alright.
Eventually, the cat found the first-year gang standing by the non-functioning chimney. All five of them had dressed up as knights in silver armour, even with helmets on their heads and swords at their hips — an entourage of courageous knights.
"My loyal knights," Grim yelled as he leant against Ace's leg, a little bit tired from having been pushed around by the crowd so much. They all shot him surprised looks, wondering why he looked so concerned. "Have you seen my princess daughter?"
"You mean (Y/n)?" Deuce asked, tilting his head to the side and causing the lid of his helmet to fall down with a loud clink. Everyone laughed at him, and he grumbled a few curses before turning to the king again. "No, none of us have seen her."
Sebek stroked his chin, his eyebrows furrowed like he was deep in thought. Jack, Epel, Ace, Deuce, and Grim all shot him expectant gazes, hoping he at least had a clue of where you were. Eventually, he hummed, giving in under the pressure, and hesitantly explained, "Last I saw her was when the young master led her out through the front door."
"Wait, wasn't Malleus dressed up as a dragon?" Jack asked, his ears twitching in curiosity — he was the only one who didn't wear a helmet due to his ears that would otherwise be squished against his head. Something akin to horror occupied his eyes, and the others felt a little bit unsettled by the worried look on his face.
"Yes, he was," Epel said with furrowed eyebrows. "Why are you asking?"
Deuce let out a little hum, understanding what Jack was thinking. "If— If he's a dragon and (Y/n) is a princess," he explained in a grave voice, remembering all the bedtime stories his mother used to read him when he was just a child. A worried look flashed across his eyes, and he crossed his arms. "Then Malleus might have kidnapped her! You know, dragon things; because dragons like to kidnap princesses."
"Yeah, we're not stupid." Ace rolled his eyes and punched Deuce's shoulder. Yet, his merely gloved knuckles hit the metal of the blue-haired student's arm guard, causing him to howl in utter pain as he cradled his hurt hand. The rest of the friend group snickered, but Grim looked concerned to death. It wasn't often that he showed any gratitude to his henchman, but he loved you dearly.
Grim threw his hands into the air, biting back cries of concern for his beloved human. The others shot him looks of pity that he returned with a fierce and determined glare. "A dragon having kidnapped my daughter?!" he hissed, slamming the end of his cane against the ground and startling everyone. "Unbelievable! Knights, retrieve her at once!"
"Yes, Your Majesty!" they all replied simultaneously, saluting to their king.
Ace peered at Sebek. "You know where she is, right?"
Sebek's eyes widened in horror at the question. He couldn't betray his master, but neither could he lie to his friends. "Uh—" he stuttered out, his words never coherent and loud enough for anyone to understand.
Deuce's eyes darkened as he took a condescending step towards Sebek. "We'll just have to get it out of him, somehow—" Deuce said when Sebek stubbornly shook his head, having made up his mind to — under no circumstances — betray his young master.
Jack quirked an eyebrow. "I don't like threatening people— but we need to help (Y/n)." The wolf narrowed his eyes at Sebek as he quietly muttered, "If you don't tell us where (Y/n) is, I'll tell your young master about that one time you didn't join training because you were too lazy—"
"No! The young master can't know that I skipped training!" Sebek's eyes were wide in horror, and his legs began to shake — much to everyone's twisted amusement. He clasped his hands together while lowering his gaze to the floor in shame. Taking a deep breath, Sebek finally gave in and meekly announced, "I know where the young master might have brought her, if it's true that dragons like to hoard their treasures and kidnapped princesses in a tower."
"Lead," Epel yelled loudly, "us forth, fellow knight!"
"All knights have a horse," Deuce said while his gaze wandered across the other students dressed in armour. "Who's gonna be the horse?"
"Jack! Because he's the strongest!" Ace chimed as he shot around to look at the wolf with puppy eyes he hoped would make him look more convincing. He clasped his hands together and bowed as much as his chest plate would let him. "Jack, would you be so kind and turn into a wolf for us?"
Jack would have ripped Ace's head off right then and there for such a silly suggestion, but they all had a princess to save. So, pushing aside the annoyance that bubbled up whenever Ace asked him for something, the wolf sighed and complied. "Only because we need to save Princess (Y/n)."
The first-years bid a farewell to Grim before they marched towards the front door, weaving their way through the ever-growing crowd of partying students. They were pushed around here and there — especially Epel because of his height and fragility — but they eventually managed to make it to the exit... almost.
A Diasomnia student dressed up as a vampire barred their way, his arms sprawled away from his body. "Hello, children!" Lilia chimed, a big smile on his face. "Where are you going already?"
The knights shot one another a strange look before Ace turned to Lilia and said, "We're looking for Princess (Y/n), Lilia. Have you seen her?"
The ancient fae's grin grew to something scary, and a sudden gust of wind blew through the corridor that made everyone shiver uncomfortably. Then, Lilia stalked towards them, evil laughter spilling from his lips. "Muahaha, your princess is in another castle!" he exclaimed loudly, causing the others to shrink in surprise. It wasn't like he was scary — especially with his over-the-top villain behaviour — but Epel still clung to Jack like a scared baby-koala. "But before I let you continue your way to save her, I must battle you foes first!"
Sebek rolled his eyes at his fellow dorm member's behaviour and merely walked past him, waving his other friends after him. "Alright... bye, Lilia," Sebek said casually whilst he opened the front door for everyone to leave. Sebek just wanted to get this shameful act of saving you behind him. Although surprised, everyone dashed out through the door their friend had so graciously opened for them; before Sebek himself left too, he sent a little sigh to Lilia. "See you later. And don't have too much fun."
Lilia stormed out after them, but they had already disappeared, riding off into the horizon on a big wolf. "Hey, where are you going?!" Lilia yelled, disappointed that he hadn't been able to put the wooden sword on his belt to good use. "We haven't fought yet!"
Meanwhile, Malleus had brought you into a high tower at the Diasomnia dorm after a short nice walk outside. You let your eyes gaze around the interior of the tower while Malleus seemed to be busy with casting a spell you couldn't really decipher — something with 'thorns' and 'barrier'.
"That's a nice tower you have here, Malleus!" you chimed, a smile on your face as you walked around the rather small space. You approached the table placed in the centre; it was filled with sweets of all sorts, a kettle of tea and two tea cups. "And woah, you prepared tea for us?"
Malleus stopped his spell-casting, and the tower shook for a little while until everything calmed down again. Before you could ask what that was, he swept over to you and shot you a charming smile. "Of course, everything to make your stay here as comfortable as possible," he cooed and led you over to one of the two chairs at the table.
You followed him, albeit only hesitantly. "I'm afraid I can't stay for too long..." you said, a worried frown on your face. Yet, Malleus managed to coax you into sitting down by gently pushing down onto your shoulders until your behind hit the soft cushions. Still not assured that all was fine back at Ramshackle, you sighed in concern as he sat down across from you. "Grim needs me at the party."
Leaning forward to put his elbows onto the table, Malleus shook his head in feigned sadness. "Sadly, I can't let you go, dearest princess," he murmured, slowly tilting his head to the side while he let a smug smile bloom on his face. "You've been kidnapped just now."
You silently looked at him for while with a dumbfounded expression on your face, not understanding what he meant at all. Your confusion simply caused his amusement to grow even more; he basked in the way you furrowed your eyebrows at him so adorably — like a helpless little doe. That's when you shot up from your chair, an enraged scowl on your face upon finally understanding what he meant. "So you meant it literally when you asked to kidnap me?!" you screamed whilst glaring down at him with squinted eyes.
"And you said yes," Malleus casually remarked, hiding the big grin on his face as he lowered his gaze at the table to pick up the tea kettle. You watched him with disbelief-filled eyes while he silently filled your cup with tea. Finally, he looked up at you, grinning from ear to ear. "So, do you want one or two cubes of sugar, my princess?"
"Malleus! Let me go!" you hissed, stomping your way over to him so you could grab him by his shoulders. He let you shake him back and forth, simply smiling up at you innocently. "You evil evil dragon."
Malleus laughed like nothing was wrong as he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you into an embrace, so that you sat sprawled out across his lap. "You flatterer~" he cooed as he snaked his arms around your mid-section to keep you in place despite your thrashing and protests. "Now, just sit still and drink your tea, dearest." As if you were a doll, he grabbed your abandoned cup of tea and pushed the edge of the porcelain against your lips.
You refused to open your mouth to take a sip, and merely jerked your head back. "But— you can't just keep me here!" You put your hands onto his chest to push him away, but you made the fatal mistake of looking into his eyes that stared at you like those of an adorable puppy. You had a hard time not swooning at how cute he was, and so, you eventually relented with a frown. "Fine. I hate your puppy eyes."
You turned your head to the side so he wouldn't see your cheeks redden in colour. He merely chuckled, elated that his simple plan had worked.
He set the cup of tea down before that now free hand cupped your cheek and tilted your face back towards him. "You're adorable when you're angry, dear," he drawled happily; you swore you could hear his tail wagging and dragging across the stone ground behind him. Then, he once again picked up the tea cup, about to raise it to your lips again — but then he noticed the liquid's lack of warmth. "Ah, I'm afraid the tea has already gone cold... but it doesn't matter. Let me rewarm it for you."
Malleus sighed in disappointment, but he knew just the solution to warm the tea up again. Turning his head to the side, so that you wouldn't be harmed, he raised the cup into the air and opened his mouth to breathe a blast of fire that was aimed at the porcelain cup. It was only the bottom of the cup that was engulfed by the green fire.
Your eyes widened in utter awe, and you brought up your hands to shield your face from the sudden warmth. "Woah! That's so cool!" you marvelled, breathing out audibly.
Malleus merely laughed as he stopped once the liquid inside started steaming slightly. The handle was still slightly heated, and the bottom was scaldingly hot, so he decided not to hand it to you, lest you injure yourself. "Don't burn yourself," he whispered as he brought the only slightly warm rim of the cup to your lips again, and this time, you opened your mouth compliantly to take a careful sip.
The sweet tea was at a comfortable temperature, warm enough to make a fuzzy feeling appear in your stomach but not hot enough to burn your throat and mouth. After a few sips, Malleus removed the cup from your lips and set it onto the table again. You shot him an amused smile, muttering a shy, "Thanks."
Malleus nodded with a smile on his own face, having the time of his life. Your face was so close to his own, and the moonlight cast an almost ethereal glow to your skin. Having lost himself in the moment, he dreamily proposed, "So, how about you stay in this tower even after Halloween is over?" He stayed serious even when you quirked an eyebrow to test if he was joking — that didn't seem to be the case. "I'm sure we could arrange—"
Your sudden laughter was what caught him off-guard and even managed to make him stop in his tracks. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you cooed, "Malleus, my dear and precious dragon, I absolutely adore spending time with you." Then, you took a deep breath and shook your head. "But I'm sure my friends are already on their way to rescue me from this evil dragon who kidnapped me."
Malleus grinned at your words, and he fearlessly brought his face closer to yours. You retreated slightly, not having expected such a reaction from him. "They can try to get past the thorns on the door to this tower." His grin adopted a determined and a slightly unhinged look as he condescendingly continued, "But it will be no easy feat, for I'm not going to give up my treasure so easily—"
In that exact moment, the wooden door to the tower room was flung open, and Malleus almost jumped in shock as his head turned to the entrance of the tower. A total of five knights streamed inside, making a smile break out on your face; your friends had come to save you.
"Are we interrupting something?" Ace asked, a big grin on his face. "A tea party?"
Deuce didn't seem nearly as amused as Ace, and he merely yelled, "Let her go, you cruel dragon!"
Malleus furrowed his eyebrows, not wanting to deal with such nuisances right now. "Damn it," he muttered under his breath as he lifted you up before gently setting you down onto the chair he had been sitting in. Pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, he then turned to the intruders, his gaze suddenly not so soft anymore. "How did you get up here so quickly?"
A rare smile appeared on Jack's face as he pointed to the very nervous green-haired student next to him. "Sebek knew where the backdoor was — or better said, hatch."
Malleus looked a little bit betrayed as he turned his head to look at his very own retainer, whom he had expected to be on his side. Sebek squirmed a little bit under his young master's angry glare, and he felt shame boil in his veins. "They blackmailed me!" he cried out as he wanted nothing more than to hide under his blanket for eternity.
Jack patted the boy's head, quietly apologising that he had been so mean. Sebek didn't feel better when the wolf muttered, "I'm sorry, but it was the only way to save the helpless young maiden."
"What?!" You shot up from your chair with an angry scowl on your face. Putting your hands onto your hips, you screeched, "I'm not a 'helpless young maiden'."
Malleus raised a hand to silence you, and it strangely worked — your mouth automatically stopped speaking. "Don't worry, my princess," he murmured as he rolled his shoulders to prepare himself for a fight. "Let me defeat these weaklings so we can return to our tea party—"
He was interrupted by Epel, who had stepped forward and, without hesitation or fear whatsoever, extended a hand to slap Malleus across the face. Silence occupied the tower after the surprising sound of a hand making contact with a cheek. "Give (Y/n) back to us!" the Pomefiore student screeched, very much comparable to a barking Chihuahua, as everyone remained frozen, shocked that he had dared to slap the great Malleus Draconia.
Even Malleus seemed surprised and taken aback as he held his red cheek in pain. The little fragile boy was stronger than he thought he was. "You slapped me—" the great dragon mumbled, his voice full with disbelief and his eyes ripped wide open.
"Woah, Epel!" Deuce whispered, trying to hold back a smile. "I'm kinda proud of you..."
Ace didn't try to be as subtle, and immediately broke out into cheering when Malleus retreated to the table and lowered himself into a chair, still caught in utter disbelief. Ace, snickering, proudly proclaimed, "And thus, the dragon has been defeated by this courageous entourage of knights, and the princess has been saved from his evil clutches!"
You smiled at them, sending them a grateful nod. "Thanks, guys." Then, you shooed them out of the tower, not making any moves to leave this prison yourself. "Go on ahead and return to the party. I'll come later."
They all nodded in unison, too caught up in their victory to really care that you wanted to stay behind. In truth, it seemed like defeating the evil dragon was more exciting and important than saving the princess. "Fine, see you, (Y/n)!" Epel yelled as he was carried out by his fellow friends as a celebration of him defeating the monster. Sebek trudged behind them, his head hung in shame.
Once their cheering had died down to ensure you that they were gone, you turned to the dragon fae that sat alone at the table, a little frown on his face as he still clutched his cheek in pain.
You walked over to him, and, in an unexpected turn of events, wrapped your arms around him to engulf him in a sweet hug. Malleus seemed slightly taken aback as he slightly jumped when he felt your arms snake around his shoulders and your chin land on his shoulder. "Aw, my poor Malleus has been slapped..." you cooed in amusement while your thumbs rubbed circles of comfort onto his arm.
Malleus wasn't sure if it was the little boy's slap that hurt him, or if it was the notion itself of being slapped. He held back a sniff as he whispered, "It hurts, (Y/n)."
You temporarily pulled away from him to gently cup his one cheek with your other hand. "Ah, hush... don't think about it," you muttered before you leant forward to press a kiss to where Epel had slapped him. "There, is the pain gone now?" Malleus watched you wide eyes when you retreated once again, his fingers ghosting over the place where you kissed him.
"Yes... thank you..." he stuttered out, a smile spreading on his lips. "I'm sorry for kidnapping you."
You began laughing, shaking your head in amusement. "No no, it's alright." You appreciated his apology — at least he was polite enough to do so. Playfully wagging your finger in front of his eyes, you teased, "Just be so kind to kidnap me when I'm not busy next time, alright? So, how about we return to the party?"
Malleus' eyes widened in surprise at your proposition. "You still want me at your party?" he asked, his gaze downcast in embarrassment and shame at his actions.
"Of course!" You grabbed him by his hands and tried your best to pull him up with you. Malleus chuckled slightly, and then he finally relented, letting himself be pulled up to his feet. You hummed in satisfaction as you led him out of your tower, happily exclaiming, "Who else am I supposed to dance with if my favourite dragon isn't present?"
1K notes · View notes
ignaeus · a year ago
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–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    add  a  little  arson  ‚    as  a  treat    :    out
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    it’s  not  my  fault  they  made  the  devil  so  much  stronger  than  a  man    :    arc i
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    you’ve  begun  to  feel  like  autumn  in  a  way    :    aes
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    dig  the  way  out  of  your  own  grave    :    arc ii
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    sun  setting  ‚    ruin  ‚    end  ‚    death    :    visuals
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    i  want  to  speak  of  something  not  dead  or  divine    :    answered
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    you’ve  been  a  torch  song  all  along    :    arc iii
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    in  your  own  dreams  you’re  always  leaving    :    petyr dryce
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    each  year  you  feel  more    &    more  like  atlas    :    study
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    i’ve  always  been  the  unknowable  one  ‚    the  spirit  of  the  fire    :    arc iv
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    one  day  your  name  in  my  mouth  didn’t  hurt  anymore    :    re.  côme
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    the  act  of  burning  ‚    the  act  of  purifying  my  ghosts    :    writing
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    i  know  you  will  break  your  promise  ‚    but  i  will  love  you  anyways    :    re.  ivaan
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    the  sun  is  also  a  star  ‚    and  if  you  touch  me  you’ll  burn    :    meta
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    for  the  first  time  ‚    unafraid  to  burn    :    old eden
–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    the  way  i  am  a  mystery  even  to  myself    :    //
#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    add  a  little  arson  ‚    as  a  treat    :    out#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    it’s  not  my  fault  they  made  the  devil  so  much  stronger  than  a  man    :    arc i#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    you’ve  begun  to  feel  like  autumn  in  a  way    :    aes#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    dig  the  way  out  of  your  own  grave    :    arc ii#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    sun  setting  ‚    ruin  ‚    end  ‚    death    :    visuals#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    i  want  to  speak  of  something  not  dead  or  divine    :    answered#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    you’ve  been  a  torch  song  all  along    :    arc iii#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    in  your  own  dreams  you’re  always  leaving    :    petyr dryce#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    each  year  you  feel  more    &    more  like  atlas    :    study#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    i’ve  always  been  the  unknowable  one  ‚    the  spirit  of  the  fire    :    arc iv#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    one  day  your  name  in  my  mouth  didn’t  hurt  anymore    :    re.  côme#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    the  act  of  burning  ‚    the  act  of  purifying  my  ghosts    :    writing#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    i  know  you  will  break  your  promise  ‚    but  i  will  love  you  anyways    :    re.  ivaan#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    the  sun  is  also  a  star  ‚    and  if  you  touch  me  you’ll  burn    :    meta#–––––   🙙  🔥    ˚    for  the  first  time  ‚    unafraid  to  burn    :    old eden
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lord-explosion-baku · 3 months ago
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Tease
Yuuji Itadori x reader x Ryomen Sukuna
Warnings: noncon, dark themes, teasing, slight daddy kink, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, Sukuna’s big stomach tongue doing nasty things, very slight anal play
You’ll never admit that you love this game.
The “tease Yuuji until he’s grumpy, needy, and pouting—all because you refuse to fuck him” game.
There’s something about having your boyfriend nuzzle up in the crook of your neck, wrap his strong arms around you, and pull your ass against his hard, neglected cock, only for you to turn him down, and have him whine for it some more. You laugh and act abashed, but you’re really thinking, ‘Poor Yuuji. When will he ever learn?’
What you should’ve been asking yourself is ‘when will he ever crack?’
Because maybe you arch your back a little too slowly, and maybe you rub up against him a little too much, and when he kisses the back of your neck, maybe you sigh a little too longingly—a little too convincingly—and maybe you drive Yuuji a little too crazy.
“Baby,” he rasps, before ghosting his lips down your neck. His hand runs circles around your stomach, before slowly trailing down to the hem of your skirt. He toys with the waistline, shifting his fingers in and out, barely grazing your skin, then reaches for your button. “Please.”
Grabbing his hand and pulling it up to your lips, you laugh and say, “that’s far enough.”
A deep, permeating groan builds up in the back of Yuuji’s throat. It tumbles out when he shifts his hips forward, and his clothed cock slides between your cheeks.
“Sweetheart,” you chide, and turn in his embrace. Lust-heavy, brown eyes bore into yours. His face is rosy with frustration, and by just a quick glance downwards, you can see that the front of his shorts have a small, wet mark, right where his erection pops out. You try not to grin, and instead say, “it’s not the right time.”
Though your actions betray your words, because you scoot closer to Yuuji in your shared space on the couch. His dick presses against your pubic bone and slides up to your stomach. There’s a sharp inhale, and Yuuji’s cheeks inflate, as if he’s trying not to explode.
“You’re killing me,” he blows out. “Sending your boyfriend straight to his grave.”
“Don’t be so melodramatic.” You laugh while turning his chin to the side to expose the column of his neck. Smirking, you rake your teeth up his throat, relishing the shudder he gives off, his fingers curling into your shirt.
“I want you,” he hisses. “I want you so bad, baby. It’s not fair. Can't you just—just touch it. Just a little bit. It’s aching, baby. Aching for you.”
“Yuuji,” you croon, using his broad chest to level yourself up. You dig your claws into his pecs, causing him to release a low groan. “You love me, right?”
“Of course.” His voice is hoarse with need, just how you like it.
“And you’d do anything for me, right?”
His cheeks are pinker than his hair when he whispers, “yeah-huh.”
Dipping your head down so that your lips are a razor’s edge away from his, you ask, “then you can wait for me, right Yuuji? You can wait, and when it’s the right time, I’ll be sure to make every second worth it to you.”
A croaking noise cracks out of Yuuji’s throat. Goosebumps appear on your legs when he slides his fingers up your thighs, then tightens his hold on your hips, and pulls you down to grind against his dick. It presses against your opening, putting pressure on your clit. Your stomach does a little flip when he asks, “feel how hard it is, baby? Fuck, all I want is to feel you sink onto my cock, y’know. Stretch your tight lil walls. I'd be so careful with you too. Never hurt you.”
Cute, but you already know that.
“Tell me what you really want,” you whisper as your hips begin to roll, your center bobbing up and down his shaft. Yuuji pulses underneath you, his mouth falling open on a shaky exhale.
“Dick you down, hard and good-“ his mutter is practically a groan, his fingers digging into your sides-“hear you cry. Make you regret taking so long.”
Your excitement grows more palpable, your cunt throbbing. “More, Yuuji.”
Blushing, Yuuji gives you more.
“I wanna play with you too. Eat your little pussy until you're trembling, begging to cum. You probably taste so good. So slick and warm. I’ll see you fall apart—break even, and before you get to cum, I’d have you choke on my cock. Your lips are so perfect, I know they’d feel so fucking hot wrapped around me. I think about it all the time.”
“Do you, now?” It’s news to you, but you like it. Yuuji has a bit of a dark side—something you’d like to explore. Leaning down to flick your tongue across his earlobe, slow and sensuously, until you suck him in, relishing how his body tenses up, your body vibrates when his voice breaks on a shuddered gasp. Lowly you ask, “want me to be your slut? Make me take your cock like a good girl? Swallow all of your hot, tasty cum?”
“Fuck. Yes.” Yuuji greedily palms your ass, his thumbs creeping towards your core. When he reaches it, he teases you through your panties, sliding up and down your vulva. “God, you’re wet. I knew you’d be, but—shit.”
Moving an arm around your waist, he presses his knuckle against your clit, soothing it up and down. You twitch, following his touch, sighing softly as he exerts a little more pressure. His other hand trails up your back, until he twists his fingers through your hair, and pulls you into a deep, consuming kiss. His lips are hot, and wet, and needy. His tongue, desperate to taste you, teases your lips open and laps up your moans.
“You want it, too.” Yuuji breathes huskily, petting your hair back. “Don’t even try to deny it.”
Your body flushes, liquid heat shooting down your belly to pool at your center. Yuuji sort of half-laughs, then proceeds to pull your damp panties to the side. However, the moment he reaches for the hem of his shorts, you grab onto his wrist and tut at him. His brows narrow in outrage, but he doesn’t say anything.
The difference between his strength and yours is monumental. Everyone knows how capable he is—his sheer power. He could easily throw you back against the couch and pounce on you, rutting into you to show you your place. It makes you curious. Being thrown around a bit seems like it could be fun. Yuuji asserting his dominance could be even more fun.
But he doesn’t throw you. What he does is far worse.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s not what you want to hear, but there’s a glint in his eye. It’s hard to tell if it really is guilt, or something else.
It’s something else.
Something like black carvings or tattoos appear on his face, arms, and chest. His body shakes, and soon, two powerful arms grow out from under his natural pair, and the slits under his eyes open to reveal scathing, red irises.
No.
Not him.
“Yuuji,” you whisper warily. Your fingers tremble as they reach for your boyfriend’s cheek. “Yuuji, please come back.”
But before your hand can make contact with his face, the monster wraps his fingers around your wrist, yanking your arm back as one of his other three hands snatches your other wrist. He’s quick to lean up and pull you closer so that your breasts push up against his hard, bare chest, your legs wrapped around his torso, and his cock pushing against your ass.
Lips wobbling, you make another pitiful attempt to call Yuuji back to you, but the words don’t come out right. They’re strangled and choked and-
“Pathetic,” the monster in front of you drawls. Keeping your wrists clasped together, he uses a free hand to wipe a renegade tear away from your hot cheeks. “Already crying and I haven’t yet done anything to you. Oh, there’s no need to pout, little one. Daddy’s here.”
Finally, you have enough sense in you to fight back, but it’s all for naught. Even though you try to kick, and you try to bite, and you try to wriggle yourself free, it’s all hopeless. His hold on you is vice, and if anything, he looks amused at your sorry struggle.
Your defiant gaze meets his, and despite the tears streaming down your cheeks, you muster the willpower to bare your teeth at him, and snarl. As if he could ever be intimidated by the likes of you.
He snarls right back, taunting you, making light of your hapless effort to try to threaten him. You jerk back in response, not realizing that you’d be pressed against his hard length. It throbs between your thighs. Your eyes go wide, and in response, the curse snickers.
“Keep wigglin’, girl,” he jeers, free arms moving around your back to lock you in place. “Feels good on my cock.”
Rebelliously, you still, hoping to make it so he gets the least amount of pleasure out of this as possible. If he’s going to kill you, you’d like to go out with some dignity.
As if reading your mind, he tuts at you, just like you did with Yuuji, then moves his cheek to nuzzle against your neck—a mockery of a lover’s touch. The soft charade ends before you can pretend it’s nice, though, because soon his tongue laves out, drawing a wet streak up your throat, before he briskly bites down, sucking harshly on your fragile flesh.
A scream burbles out of your esophagus, but it does nothing to ease the pain the curse is inflicting on you. One of his hands moves up your chest. It gropes your left breast, thumb and forefinger twisting your nipple. He sucks and licks until you’re sure he’s left a giant mark on your skin, and when he’s happy enough with his work, he begins kissing you down your neck, to your collarbone, then to your jaw.
A unique languor disperses throughout your body, sucking your desire to fight. You don’t know if it’s because you’ve tired yourself out, or if you’re just…relieved he’s not hurting you—not in a way that you never wanted Yuuji to, anyways. That doesn’t mean you’re giving up.
There’s one thing you haven’t tried yet, and though it seems your throat to do it, you have no other choice but to try.
“Please,” you begin, feeling lower than dirt at having to beg for your release. “Let me go. I can’t do this…”
“And why should I?” He whispers, cool breath blowing against your cheek.
“Yuuji, he—“
“—offered me a deal,” the monster admits, all teeth. “So long as I don’t inflict any permanent damage on you, and he can feel everything we feel, I can do with you as I wish.”
No. Yuuji would never.
“You’re lying,” you murmur, although when you think about it, you’re not sure. Yuuji had…an odd expression right before the other appeared.
“Whether you believe me or not doesn’t matter to me. I’m in control now, and, little girl, it’s been so long since I’ve had my way with a woman. I plan to cease every second of this. Whether you’re willing or not, I will take you, and oh-“ his voice drops an octave when he says, “I promised him that you’ll like it too. Not that that will be any trouble.”
Unceremoniously, his tongue sweeps your lips, and even though you try your hardest to keep your mouth, when sharp teeth bite down on your bottom lip, you grant his access with a yip.
The kiss is leisurely, like he has all the time to waste on molding his lips to yours. His tongue stroke against yours. Beside yourself, you melt into him, picturing it’s Yuuji you’re touching. He hums, seemingly content with your compliance. When he pulls away, his smirk makes your heart jump. His eyes, Yuuji’s eyes, are still so soft. Deceiving.
He lifts you so he can get a better look at your body. Hands roaming your body, he gazes at you appraisingly, and says, “I’ll admit that the brat has good taste. You’d be the perfect woman if you weren’t such a prude.”
With that, Sukuna tears your shirt off your chest—the flimsy and annoying obstruction—to reveal the sheer bralette underneath. Your nipples press against Sukuna’s hands, hardening when he palms you covetously. His smirk widens.
“Not a prude,” he muses darkly, “a tease.” He pinches your nipples hard, making you half-cry, half-moan. “That was cute. You’re gonna be fun.”
“I don’t want this,” you pant, hating the sound of desire coating each word. “I don’t…”
“No?” The curse—the monster—looks amused, a dark gleam in his eyes. A sharp fingernail trails down your bare stomach, and you shudder as heat rushes towards your center, and down between your thighs. Sensing your inner response, he sneers up at you, and in one horrifying second, your boyfriend’s body splits open, revealing a dark, cavernous hole in his stomach. It contorts in an odd way until sharpened teeth, and a long, pink tongue appears. The stomach grins, right before its tongue slowly licks up your center.
The shrieking begins when the licking doesn’t stop. The slow, rhythmic laps soak through your panties. It moves in an undulating motion, thick and wet, forcing you to ride it like a mechanical bull. It’s so strong that even when you close your thighs around it in hopes of maybe squeezing it enough to hurt, it doesn’t do anything except make the monster below you chuckle. It’s completely violating you, not only licking your pussy, but your ass too. Everything is so wet, and sensitive, and hot, that soon your crying evolves into moans, and you can’t help but clench on top of this intrusion.
“Such a responsive little slut for someone who doesn’t want this.” One of the curse’s four hands pets you down your bare back, until it lands on your ass. He gives it an appreciative squeeze, first to feel you, to claim you, then to hold you in place as his stomach tongue begins vibrating at a high intensity.
“No,” you whimper when you begin to feel something coiling up on the inside. The pleasure is so startling, so intense, that you begin to mewl. You’re begging, but you’re unsure if it’s for him to stop, or if it’s for him to let you cum.
With two hands still holding your wrists together, and the others now sitting behind his head to cushion him, he watches with moderate interest as you come undone.
“That’s a good girl,” he purrs, “you want to cum for me, little one? Let me taste your pleasure?”
“No,” you say again, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to picture you’re anywhere else. “Yuuji.”
The curse tightens his eyes and groans.
Suddenly, the stomach-mouth closes, and you’re lifted up, your panties pulled to the side, and placed back down, his palm pressing into your cunt. Without registering what is happening, you blink at him, a question building in your foggy mind, but you never get to ask it.
Something warm slides up your slit, flirting with your opening. It twirls around your clit, and you begin to shake, realizing that it’s another tongue. He’s eating you out from the palm of his hand, and it only intensifies your tension. You’re burning from the inside out, your pussy pounding as the tongue slides in and out…in and out.
“Say my name,” he hisses, jaggedly, like he’s barely keeping it together. “Say my name, and I’ll take pity on you.”
“Ah…fuck…” Resolve crumbling, you fall forward and onto his chest. His fingers rake up your back, only intensifying your pleasure. Your hips wheel around, chasing his palm…his tongue…your ecstasy.
“Say it,” he commands. The palm’s mouth closes around your clit and starts to suck. Holding back your moans becomes unbearable. It’s all you can do to stop from screaming again, and even then, it’s not much.
“Sukuna!” You plead, tears dotting your eyes. “Please—ah! Please let me cum! Sukuna please, god!”
“So good, little one,” Sukuna coos, “so sweet.” He sucks and nibbles and licks amplify, and you squirm and gyrate against his tongue, barreling towards what was before a very elusive edge. You go over with a trilled moan, trembling, crying, euphoric.
Absolutely devastated.
And it’s not over. He’s not done with you.
Before you can stop vibrating, Sukuna pulls you up against him, lining you up with him. His cock head pries at your center, breaching your surface when he kisses you roughly. It's a vicious and animal, all encompassing kiss, like he’s been starving for it.
“Sit on it,” he instructs. His hands move up and down your sides, either to comfort you, or to remind you that he could force you down if he was so inclined. “Slide down on my cock like a good girl. I want to be buried inside of you.”
When you begin to descend, Sukuna sharply snaps his hips upwards, forcing himself in urgently. The sudden intrusion is enough to make you yip, your body set aflame. Sukuna’s—Yuuji’s pupils expand, his eyes growing darker as he watches you struggle to take him in. There’s no time to get used to his size. He’s moving, and you have no choice but to react. Reluctantly, you stretch for him, and he slowly moves out, only to harshly push back in.
“Beautiful,” he rasps. The praise sends shivers up your spine, and makes you pulse around his cock. You’re sure the evil bastard can feel it, too, because he cups your jaw, and exalts you. “Pretty girl, you feel so good. So tight. A natural submissive, too. Isn’t that right?”
You’re about to object, and when he senses it, he pulls you off of him, and throws you to the floor. You have no time to run, because he climbs on top of you, shoves your head down to the floor, and pulls your ass up.
“When I ask you a question, you answer me,” he rumbles against your neck. It’s violent, but one hand is still on your ass, caressing you soothingly. “You say, ‘yes, daddy’ like my sweet little girl. Unless you want me to treat you as a cum-dumpster—some whore to spill my seed in.” His thumb begins stroking your ass hole, and your body shivers in anticipation. “In any hole that I want. Do you understand me?”
“…yes, daddy,” you weep into the carpet and pray for this to end soon.
Sukuna guides his shaft back inside of you, and it presses against a spot that makes vision darken for a second. He’s relentless when he drives into you, over and over again. His heat surrounds you, weight pressing you into the floor. His large hands rub your skin, petting you all over, and the caresses almost make this intimate, until his touch, again, travels to your other hole.
Trepidation pumps through your blood, making you squeeze his cock. The fear is something electric and addictive, and it has you warbling. He groans, picking up his pace, but his thumb doesn’t leave its place.
“Are you afraid, little one?” Sukuna’s timbre takes on a darker edge. “Scared I’m gonna do the same thing to your ass that I’m doing to your beautiful, fucking pussy?”
The right answer eludes you. You’re not thinking. Your walls close around Sukuna every time he speaks. Every time he pushes himself to his hilt, fills you up, and claims you. By the tears staining the carpet, you can assume that yes. You’re very afraid.
“Yes, daddy,” you mewl, right before Sukuna twists his fingers into your hair, and pulls you back. Two arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing you to him, and his last hand reaches around you to rub circles around your too-sensitive clit. “Ohhh, god. Yes.”
“You should be.” He latches onto your neck and sucks violently. You scream as your second orgasm rips through you, forcefully shaking your entire body as Sukuna hammers into you, his pace kiltering off. He’s about to chase you.
“Daddy, please, no…” not inside. Not inside.
Sukuna scoffs, gives you several more cruel pumps, then pulls out, straining you to fall on your back so he can stroke himself off, spraying hot, white ropes of cum across your hot stomach.
“Mine,” Sukuna declares. He smoothes his hand over your sweaty belly, spreading his cum across your skin. “The next time you tease the brat, I’ll take more than your pretty pussy, little girl. That’s a promise.” He dips down low to glide his tongue up your cheek. “So don’t you hesitate to call on me again.”
Then, the marks and the arms disappear, the second pair of eyes closing. The brown eyes that blink at you, shining with something like shame or pleasure, are Yuuji’s.
“Baby…” He says, and you don’t have it in you to cringe away from him when he crowds you into a hug. He pulls you against him, kissing your temple, whispering apologies. He asks if you’re okay, and you don’t know.
But you can’t stop thinking…about when the next time you’ll play the “Tease Yuuji” game.
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translations-by-aiimee · 3 months ago
Text
Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 17
Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼
Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi
This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.
Chapter Index
Chapter 17 - Provocative
All the lights in the auditorium dimmed, and the large powerpoint projection on the screen let out a bright glow. If audience had been excited about Tang Yin's painting, then they were ecstatic with the next item, or maybe they were just in shock. The image on the screen was a Song Dynasty Ge-ware bamboo incense burner. The whole piece was coated in a light green glaze. The iconic Ge-ware-style sharp cracks and dark lines stretched over the body of the burner. Its slim shape was truly elegant.
PSP guy's eyes subconsciously lit up, and his slumped posture suddenly straightened. This was a very pricey item. If it was genuine, a seven-figure auction price would be a generous estimate.
Lin Yan couldn't help getting excited, but Xiao Yu seemed completely uninterested. He put his fingers on the top of his back and snuck them underneath his collar. He stroked his collarbone with cold fingertips and leaned over and hugged him. He kissed the side of his face unscrupulously. Lin Yan couldn't pull his hand away. He felt so anxious and angry, quietly thinking about what the two thousand people in the audience would think. He begged that no one in the audience could see the ghost behind him. If anyone could see him. . . even jumping into the Yellow River couldn't wash off his shame.
He wasn't sure why, but the intimacy of this clingy ghost happening now wasn't as disgusting as it was when the events started. Lin Yan blushed. He knew that this ghost’s temper, and that whenever he resisted, the torment would never end. However, the constant comfort could always calm him down. As the saying goes, "Whosoever understands current events is a great man." Lin Yan grabbed Xiao Yu's hand and tugged gently.
The cold hand touched his face, then dropped back to his shoulder and squeezed it lightly.
Professor File Folder pushed up his glasses. He took out a safe from under the desk, twisted the combination lock, and took out the bamboo incense burner that was in the photo with both hands and placed it on the mahogany desk frame. A white spotlight shone down on it, and you could hear a pin drop in the auditorium. The silence audience cast their gaze onto the piece on the desk. The fine light green porcelain was covered in sharp cracks, and the shape of it was simple but not amateur. The white light covered all corners of the burner, giving the eye-catching piece a frosty aura.
This was the charm of antiques. Life goes on. Time passes. The people have long since died but the artifacts will forever remain. They are passed down through generations of people with money holding strong and unmoved throughout the years.
This was definitely the final piece, Lin Yan thought. The professor motioned him and the PSP guy to come up and take a closer look. Lin Yan tilted the incense burner and looked closely at the bottom. Experts look at porcelain and examine the exposed portions before estimating its age. If there wasn't any issues, then the authenticity of the piece could be determined almost immediately. However, when the precious incense burner was turned over, Lin Yan couldn't help but let out a gasp. PSP guy was also taken aback. After pondering, his expression eventually revealed what he was thinking.
PSP guy's reaction convinced Lin Yan that today was definitely going to be a tie. Just as he was about to put the incense burner back, the glazed pattern suddenly caught his attention. Something seemed off, Lin Yan hesitated. He picked up the incense burner to check it again and frowned.
"Why are you so slow every time? Do you need someone to do it for you?" After the PSP man finished writing the answer, he took out a stick of gum and stuffed it into his mouth, chewing indifferently while looking at Lin Yan.
Lin Yan didn't bother paying attention to him. He was able to determine the age at a glance, and there was no problem with the glaze color and the crack patterns. This thing was almost a perfect fake of Song Dynasty Ge-ware. . . But it was being handled by the professor personally. . . It was almost impossible to make a guess.
"... What do you think?" Lin Yan asked for Xiao Yu's opinion softly. Xiao Yu didn't say anything, but the expression in his eyes seemed encouraging. He wasn't sure why, but being watched by those eyes, Lin Yan suddenly had a little bit of confidence in his guess and even changed what he was originally going to answer. Xiao Yu held his wrist and nodded very lightly.
So be it, Lin Yan thought.
"Students, please reveal your answers." The red jacket skirt girl announced.
The two whiteboards turned around at the same time. Each had the same answer again: fake.
Professor File Folder nodded approvingly, and said: "It looks like we have a playoff today. Both are correct. This is indeed a fake." He turned to face the PSP guy. "I won't explain it this time. Instead, this classmate will explain."
The PSP man took the mic, and the sound of chewing gum echoed through the loudspeaker. Lin Yan cringed. PSP guy didn't care at all, and said casually, "In the Ming Dynasty Chenghua period, there were lots of imitations of Song Dynasty kiln porcelains. It's in good condition and valued at 3 to 5 million yuan."
Lin Yan's brow furrowed even more.
Professor Folder was very satisfied. He doesn't even care about the bs that the PSP guy just spewed. He nodded and smiled: "That's right, these students can make these conclusions in such a short amount of time. They have good eyes. They both have a future in this field."
After speaking, he clapped his hands together, turned to the audience and said with vigour: "This is indeed not a Song Ge-ware incense burner, but a Ming imitation. There are very few imitations of Ge-ware works made during the Chenghua period of the Ming Dynasty left. This is only a representation of the Palace Museum, which has extremely high historical value. It's said that this school has excellent students. I didn't believe it before I saw it today. It was worth the trip, haha, definitely worth it."
"I have decided to make a special case for these two, and give each of them a prize."
Lin Yan looked at Xiao Yu hesitantly. The latter pushed his shoulders forward, as if urging him on. Lin Yan gritted his teeth, turned his head and said to the PSP man: "No, you're wrong."
The sound of chewing gum suddenly stopped, and the PSP guy stared at him. "Excuse me?"
Lin Yan took mic from the host and stuttered: "This-this is indeed an imitation, no one is arguing that, but it's modern. Even with the exquisite craftsmanship, it probably wouldn't sell for more than a 200 yuan decoration piece."
As soon as he fell silent, the audience was in an uproar, and some even leaned on the back of the chairs in front of them as if they were ashamed. The PSP guy snorted to express his disdain, and squinted at Lin Yan. "You're kidding, right? You can't see the obvious Ming Chenghua Ge-ware piece. I've been studying this for so many years." After that, he switched off his PSP and curled his lips: "It's time to go back class and educate yourself."
If it weren’t for Lin Yan’s calm composure, he would've rushed over and punched him. His anger of being humiliated in public made him clench his fists, but Xiao Yu must've known what he was thinking and held his shoulders with both hands to prevent him from acting on it.
There was a sneer across the auditorium. Someone called out for him to get off the stage. Lin Yan's heartbeat quickened. The building energy of the audience made him a little panicked. He looked at Professor File Folder like he wanted confirmation.
File Folder was embarrassed. To be honest, he personally identified this bamboo incense burner before it went into the Palace Museum exhibit. There was no debate about its authenticity. The purpose of bringing it to these events was not to re-appraise it, but only to serve as a typical example to teach students about the identification and collection of Ming imitations.
"It seems that this classmate is not very good at porcelain appreciation. Let me explain. When judging the age of porcelain artifacts, we must first look at the appearance of its base. This one has obvious characteristics of Ming Ge-ware, but it's an imitation of Song porcelain. Such things are called antiques in modern times, but at the time they were made, they were fakes. . ." File Folder gestured at Lin Yan that he could leave the stage. The corner of his mouth lifted, showing why young people should really take care of their skin.
Lin Yan was at a loss. He squeezed the armrest of the chair. He was so overwhelmed by File Folder's reputation as a leading porcelain expert that he didn't dare speak up. In all fairness, he didn't belong with a group of talented professionals. This time, he just happened to see a small contradiction and blatantly tried to argue with an expert. Lin Yan glanced at the darkened audience under the stage, and his stomach rolled.
A chill covered the back of his hand, another hand wrapping around his own. Xiao Yu stood beside him and tilted his head to look at him. There was no aggression, his eyes calm and serious. As if there was a steady stream of energy coming from the cold palms, Lin Yan felt funny. There were more than 2,000 pairs of eyes, yet only one ghost could see the truth. There were more than 2,000 living people, yet only one ghost was willing to listen to what he had to say. Xiao Yu's lips touched Lin Yan's cheek very lightly, motioning him to look at the incense burner in the center of the stage, and gently shook his head.
Under the dazzling spotlight, the fine porcelain's green glaze sparkled, and the cracked patterns were delicate and elegant. It was really beautiful. Lin Yan thought: The imitation was preserved because of its beauty, but the reality was left in the dark because of its cruel truth, turning into a coffin with decomposing bones.
"Go." Xiao Yu pressed his knees and said with great effort, ". . . Trust me."
Lin Yan took a deep breath, looked at Xiao Yu and nodded.
There was really only one way he could prove that this was really a modern fake. He walked around behind the square table and strode towards the piece on the stage. Before anyone had a chance to react, Lin Yan picked up the incense burner and smashed it on the ground without a second thought. There was a crisp sound. The million-dollar-priced treasure was broken into dozens of pieces and scattered on the ground. The PSP guy was stunned. The professor couldn't form a coherent sentence. The jeers from the audience stopped and the whole auditorium was silent.
Youth could be wild and energetic, but also incredibly stupid. Lin Yan stood stubbornly amidst the broken porcelain. Professor File Folder suddenly lost his composure. He leapt over and shoved Lin Yan's shoulder, his mouth opening and closing, unsure of what words to even say. The commotion from the audience grew louder and louder, as if being fueled by a storm.
Lin Yan broke away from the professor. He squatted down and picked up one of the shards off the floor, selecting a piece of the base of the incense burner. He pointed out the incline of the fracture, stuffed the shard into the professor's hands, and said softly but clearly: "It's a modern fake. It's a shame to put it in the Palace Museum."
File Folder let out a distressed noise, his face flushed. Anyone who really loves antiques knows that compared to the high price of an antique, the historical value it carries was a truly priceless treasure. Everyone was waiting to see the professor lose his mind. However, even though he was furious, he suddenly raised his head and looked at Lin Yan in disbelief, and then stared at the broken porcelain piece. His stubby fingers rubbed the porcelain piece back and forth. He trembled: " How. . . how could you tell?"
The professor spoke very quietly, but the mic on his collar picked it up, and the sentence echoed across the auditorium.
Hearing this question, PSP guy also picked up a piece of debris from the ground and looked at it over. When he raised his head again, the expression on his face looked like he had just eaten shit.
"Uh. . ." There were several things he wanted to say but they were all caught in his throat. Lin Yan has this problem. No matter what the situation, he never has any trouble when he speaks to a friend, but when he is alone in a large group arguing with others, he often freezes up because he lacked self-confidence.
Xiao Yu held Lin Yan, fingers tightly interlocked with his, standing side by side. His whole body was also cold like a piece of porcelain. After a while, he slowly calmed down, and cold lips gently tapped the side of Lin Yan's mouth.
He. . . was on his side. This thought made Lin Yan relax a little. After taking a few deep breaths to straighten out his thoughts, he explained: "Because of the temperature of the kiln, no matter how accurate the imitation of Ming Ge-ware porcelain is, there is still a slight difference in the direction of the cracks in the glaze of Ge-ware porcelain. The glazed surface of this incense burner has the characteristics of the Song Dynasty, but the exposed base has the characteristics of the Ming Dynasty. There is only one possibility for two eras of craftsmanship to appear on one piece; that is, contemporary counterfeit.” After finishing speaking, he added: “These kinds of frauds only started appearing within the past two years. I. . . I also took a gamble. I didn't think I'd be right."
The professor stared at him blankly, and hissed through his teeth: "You. . . you took a gamble? What if you were wrong? What if you made a mistake!" He tapped his feet twice, and finally gave up. He slapped the surface of the desk and said in a deep voice to the audience: "The students here are truly amazing."
After thirty seconds of silence, the audience burst into thunderous applause.
Lin Yan scratched his hair. He looked at Xiao Yu embarrassedly, and said softly, "We won."
He swore that this was the first time in his life that he has seen this ghost showing the expression of an ordinary person, looking very proud. Xiao Yu gently hugged him from behind, his long hair rubbing against his face. Lin Yan didn't avoid it. He was a little grateful for this ghost, even a little dependent on him. His palms were soaked in a cold sweat. Lin Yan gave Xiao Yu a sideways glance and rubbed his wet palms on his clothes.
Professor File Folder took a sip of water. He took out a pen and memo from his book bag, and looked at Lin Yan with interest: "Classmate, what's your name? Come to me when the lecture is over and I'll engrave it for you."
Lin Yan took two steps towards the professor and decided on what he wanted engraved.
"Xiao Yu. "Xiao" written as the character for "dejected", "Yu" written as the character for "sweet smelling"." Lin Yan explained. . .
The professor's smile dropped immediately, and his face changed in an instant.
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garliclesbian · 8 months ago
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You’re seventeen. You’ve been seventeen for less than 24 hours. Your face is covered in dirt, your elbow is probably strained or something, your shirt still has your blood on it, from when your father found you with- This is on you. He wouldn’t have done anything, if you hadn’t… If you weren’t. And now you’re exhausted. Try digging up two graves with a sprained elbow and a bruised rib. They’re not even at the same cemetery. They’re not buried in their garbs. They’re not buried next to the abbey. And they’re not even buried at the same cemetery. It took you an hour to walk from one salting to the next. You break open the molded wood of the coffin, you pour salt over the grave. You imagine yourself lying there, choking on the salt in your throat like a slug on the side of the road. You pour lighter fluid over the body that is not yours, is barely even a body, is not even human anymore. You set the corpse, you wish was you, on fire. The smoke stings your eyes, makes them tear up, makes your voice hoarse from all the crying. It smells, like mold, like ash, like hellfire. Or what you imagine hellfire must smell like. If you keep going like this, you’ll find out soon enough, you know that. Maybe there ain’t a heaven, least not for people like you. But these monsters, these ghosts, all that evil you’ve seen. It’s gotta go somewhere, right? You gotta go somewhere. You stand there until the fire has died down to embers. If this is where you’re headed, maybe it’s not too late to make up for it. Maybe there’s a way. Something like redemption, maybe? And if there isn’t, you might as well take as many of those evil sons of bitches with you on your way down.
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boxofbonesfic · 2 months ago
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Title: Prosperina
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Dark!Steve x Reader
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Horror, Ghost/Demonic Possession, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Dubcon, Noncon, Stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, Gaslighting
Chapter specific: body horror, gaslighting, paranoia, sleep 
Summary: Humans have a terrible habit of naming things. Even the old things, the hungry, wanting things that never should have had names to call upon. The things that want to ride on our souls, to see through our eyes and taste life with our mouths. Green is life—but for you, it is death.
A/N: here we are, part two of Prosperina! i cannot even describe how touched i am at all of the positive responses to this fic, and i sincerely hope it continues to terrify and intrigue you all. feedback is always appreciated, please let me know what you think! this fic was beta’d by the wonderful @curbitkirby, who has been letting me yell at her about my ideas for an impressively long amount of time. 🥺
This is a work of FICTION, and it is Dark, so I assume once you’ve clicked through the link that you are comfortable with that. I do not give consent for my work to be copied, translated, or posted elsewhere, even if I am credited. This work is entirely mine, and unbeta’d, so read at your own risk! MINORS, DNI!!! 😘
🌸
Part two: Scratch
“You gonna sit?” Your mother is seated at the kitchen table, looking at you expectantly. Her poison of choice sits in front of her, and when she lifts the glass to her lips, the ice cubes clink noisily. “C’mon. Sit down.” 
 You sit across from her, and she sighs. You’re trying to recall the last time you saw your mother, trying to recall where this memory is swimming up from—and then you realize. It’s not a memory, it’s a dream. 
“Y’know, I never wanted to be pregnant,” she says, cocking her head at you as she swirls the liquor in her glass. “And then when we had you… God, all I wanted was to run.” 
 She drains the glass, and refills it again. None of this is new to you, you’ve heard her drunkenly wax on about the glory days, the days before you slowed her down. 
 But you’ve never dreamed it before. 
 “But there’s just some shit you can’t run from.” You don’t know why you didn’t see it before, but her eyes are burning black pools of tar, leaking down her cheeks when she blinks. “Some shit that just is, you know what I mean, toadie?”
 The nickname makes longing and fear twine together in your gut. 
Her skin is death’s head gray, cheeks sunken. Her nails, sharp like needles, scrape against the the table, and in their wake, flowers bloom from the cracked wood. 
 Your mother—not your mother—blinks those tar black eyes at you, and tears leak down her cheeks like oil. Flowers burst from her flesh, pushing their way up through her skin, which tears like paper. 
 “You can’t run from her.” There are flowers on her tongue and in her eyes, and black tar tears track down her cheeks as she upends the bottle into her mouth. Amber liquid runs out of the holes in her cheeks, and she gurgles as green sprouts burst from her throat. “It just is.” 
You scream, and she screams too, a rattling, dying sound. 
 “IT JUST IS. IT JUST IS. IT JUST IS—”
 You can finally move again, and you throw yourself away from the table, hiccoughing sobs escaping your throat. The doorway into the living room is dark but you enter anyway, only to sink your feet into soft earth as your mother’s screams continue behind you. 
You push forward, sinking your fingers into the earth as you dig through it desperately. It smells like rotten things, like death, and behind you, your mother is still screaming as you claw up through the grave dirt and—
 SCRATCH. 
 You sit straight up in bed, your chest heaving. The bright, sickly white fluorescent lighting above you stings your eyes as you open them, searching blearily for the source of the sound. Your mouth is dry, and tastes like dirt, and as you wipe cool sweat from your forehead, your fingers come away dark. You frown, wiping again—dirt. 
What the fuck?
 You look down at yourself, and streaks of mud stain the bottom of the chiffon gown Steve gave you earlier. You’re not sure how much time has passed between then and now, there’s no clock, no way to mark the endless march of minutes in your concrete cell. Your feet are dirty too, clumps of earth stuck between your toes and trod under your toenails. 
 Tap.
 You move quickly toward the sink, your stomach tight with fear. You rinse the dirt from your face and hands as best you can before you tentatively try the door again—still locked. You’d been asleep until just now, you were sure of it. At the thought of sleep, cold dread settles in your stomach. 
 I can’t sleep here. Terror clenches it’s fist tightly around you. You can’t remember what you dreamed, but you know that whatever it was, it makes you dread going back to sleep, like something is waiting for you in your dreams. 
The dirt under your fingernails refuses to come out under the water, and hysterically you slap your hands against the sink. Your breath comes in short pants. 
 Steve said he would come tomorrow—but you don’t know when that is. Perhaps it’s already happened, perhaps it’s not going to. You look down at your hands and a sob wrenches. from your throat. You don’t want to be alone. 
 Tap.
 Tap. 
 SCRATCH.
 The sound is so loud you turn around, whipping your head from side to side. Maybe Steve’s already here. The tapping sounds again, and this time a long, slow scrape accompanies it. 
 “S-Steve?” 
 Silence. 
 Tap. 
 A whining shriek tears from your throat and you run to the door, banging on it with all of your strength. You’re barely breathing between your desperate cries. “Steve! Steve please, please let me out, please, Steve I’m scared!” you don’t care that you’re calling for your captor, anything is better than being alone in this fucking room—
 Tap. 
 It’s close, like it’s right behind you. You’re afraid to move to breathe, and you still, shuddering as you press your face to the door. Silent sobs shake your shoulders as the hair on the back of your neck stands up. You wish your earlier thought had been correct, but you’re not.
 You’re not alone, and you never have been. 
 “It just is.” the voice sounds just next to your ear, so soft and so close that you feel breath brush against your skin. You scream hoarsely, and pound on the door again and again hysterical cries wrenching from your raw throat—and it opens. 
 You fall into Steve’s arms, sobbing and wailing, clutching him as you struggle to verbalize your terror. He emits a soft, oof, though he doesn’t budge as you craash into him. “Blossom? What’s wrong?” 
 “S-someone’s in here w-w-with me,” you spoke through hiccoughing sobs. He looks down at you pityingly, his brows creased with concern. No. No, don’t look at me like that! You fist your hands in his shirt. “N-no, s-she spoke to me,” you’re blubbering, and Steve takes a few steps forward, pushing you back into the room and away from the door. He kicks it shut with a practiced motion, before setting down the bags he’s carrying. You’re fighting the urge to grab for him, to press yourself against him in your fear.
 “Blossom, there’s no one here but us.” he says softly, gesturing around the empty room. The tapping and scratching has stopped, but the dread remains. “Look, I’ll show you.” he walks around the perimeter of the room slowly, and you hate that his voice isn’t patronizing, but kind and understanding. As if he genuinely wants to help you. 
 And you hate most of all how your eyes track his every movement gratefully, how when he peers underneath the bed, you feel a childish relief. You feel safe with him there, and it disgusts you. He’s a stranger—more than that, he’s your captor. He walks around the room another time before he turns to you. 
 “See? Nothing to be afraid of.” You look down at your hands—clean. A dream? You don’t think you were dreaming. But… you’ve been in this room for days, and even then you’re not really sure. He grins widely at you, before he begins to unpack the cloth grocery bags. More containers, more food, and again, no utensils. Steve forces you to let him feed you, the weight of his hand hot and suffocating on your thigh. 
 Better this than alone. 
 “You look beautiful in your dress,” he replies, picking up a perfectly cut square of fluffy Belgian waffle. It’s drenched in syrup, but he doesn’t seem to mind it dripping down his fingers as he offers the bite to you. “Do you like it, blossom?” He presses it to your lips, and you open reluctantly. He pushes the morsel into your mouth, and syrup drips down your chin. Steve’s thumb swipes at it, and he grips your chin with his other hand. “Open.” 
 You swallow, slowly parting your lips as he shoves his thumb inside, resting it on your tongue. The command is written on his face, though he doesn’t speak it aloud. You curl your tongue around his thumb, the sweetness of it sour still on your tongue. “I asked you if you liked your dress.” He says gently, pulling away only to return with another bite of food. He looks at you expectantly, and the food in your mouth turns to glue. 
 You’re terrified of him. Of this place. His grip tightens on your thigh. “I-I like it. I’m not… I’ve never really… dressed up much.” You sputter, watching him visibly relax. 
 “We can get you whatever kind of things you like, blossom.” he strokes the curve of your cheek with the back of his hand. “When you remember.” That fucking phrase again. Remember. Remember. Remember what? “I know you’re not used to nice things,” he says, and he holds your face still while he leans in to drag his soft lips across your forehead. “But we’re going to take such good care of you.” 
 “Who’s…we?” you asked, and his shoulders sag as though genuine weight rests on them. “Why did you bring me here?” He seems just as forthcoming with answers today as he was yesterday—which is not at all. 
 “Because we want to give you everything,” he says passionately, grabbing for your hands. You try to pull away, but you’re not fast enough, and he holds them tightly as he strokes his thumbs over the backs of your hands. “How you were living before? Alone, no one to care for you, to love you. You don’t have to live like that anymore.” his bright smile seems almost plastic in the sickly fluorescent lighting. “You have us now.” 
 You’re trembling as his eyes bore into you. How long has he been watching me?
 Tap.
 “I wasn’t alone.” you reply, and he frowns, scoffing. 
 “No? When was the last time you heard from your parents? The last time they cared enough to call you? And your friends? Your phone hasn’t gone off once since I rescued you.” 
 “You kidnapped me!” You can’t bear to play along anymore, and you peer up at him angrily. His expression goes cold, and strangely, so does his grip. Ice cold. 
 “I saved you.” He lets go suddenly, as if you’ve burned him. “No one gave a damn about you, and I—” Steve stops speaking abruptly, cocking his head as though he’s listening. “Fine. You’re right. I… I kidnapped you. But it’s for the better, I promise you.”
 “I want to go home.” How long has he been watching me? Your thoughts race, and you begin trying to figure out when you might have attracted his attention, where. It doesn’t matter, and yet it does. And the back and forth within yourself about whether it’s your fault or not, what you did to deserve it and the one outside you’re having with him—
 You want to cry.
 “This is your home now, blossom.” You can’t help but glance around the room, your chest tightening. He sees the look, and shakes his head. “Don’t be ungrateful, sweetheart.” Steve’s voice carries a hard edge that almost makes you wish he’d never come down, but your skin prickles at the alternative. You’re still not convinced you were dreaming, but… your hands are clean, and the delicate gown Steve had gifted you with the day before was in-tact. 
 You decide to try a different angle. “Where are we?”
 “Somewhere beautiful. You’re going to love it so much, blossom.” His voice turns almost dreamy. “I’m going to show you so much when…when you’re ready.” He sighs, and then claps his hands. “Let’s finish breakfast. I have some things for you.” 
 Steve makes you finish the waffle, his attempts at soothing you only making you more agitated. Suddenly you weren’t sure what was worse, the overbearing sense that you weren’t alone where you were, or his presence. His hands move in eager circles on your back, and he leans over in his chair to speak gently about how happy he is to see you eating.
 When you’ve managed to clear your plate, Steve takes it to the sink. “You know, this is my grandmother’s house,” he says, glancing over his shoulder. 
 “O-oh?” It’s in your best interest to sound intrigued, and you are—maybe you can figure out how to get away. He wants to trust you, he’s said as much himself. “Are we?”
 “Yes, this is her land. It’s been in the family for generations, but I’m the only one to try and do anything with it.” He finishes washing the dish, and sets it on the rack to dry. “You’ll love it out here. I know how badly you hate the city. All the noise, keeping you up at night.” The cold lead that had previously settled in your stomach at the knowledge of his surveillance gets even heavier. and for a moment you think you might vomit up the waffle Steve forced down. 
 “Y-yes.” You’d always dreamed of moving out of the city, but not like this. And his description hadn’t helped at all—you could be anywhere. He shakes his hands to dry them, and grins at you.
 “I brought you some things.” He reaches into the grocery bag, and pulls out a worn copy of Frankenstein, and puts it on the table. A deck of cards, a puzzle. You know he wants you to be grateful, but you can’t muster more than a weak smile and a nod. “I know it’s not everything you’re used to, but…you’ll earn those back.” 
 Earn them back.
 “Are you going to kill me?” the question slips out of you before you can stop it, and Steve looks positively stricken at your question. He rushes over to you, grabbing your shoulders. 
 “I would never hurt you.” He stares hard into your eyes. “I promised you I was going to take care of you, you’re going to be so happy here with me, blossom.” 
 “Happy.” You repeat the word in a hollow voice. 
 Happy. 
 🌸
Part three
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Le taglist:
@basementwiveswritingchallenge
@dorothea-hwldr @archy3001 @syntheticavenger @river-soul @millennial-teenybopper @doozywoozy @dreamlessinparis @melancia @ladyacrasia @sweeterthanthis @stupendouslovegardener @violetmoon74 @holl2712 @nymariel @punemy-spotted
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eunoniaa · 7 months ago
i heard you were in the mood for some smut so here are some kinks i would like to offer:
size kink, daddy kink, cum play, degrading, choking, praise kink
maybe that paired with jealous!draco? like he saw you getting too friendly with someone else so he decided to take matters into his own hands.
feel free to leave out any kinks you are uncomfortable with or to change the plot idc. i love literally everything you write 💗💗
late night adventures -d.m.
draco malfoy x fem!reader
a/n: as per usual, i asked for blurb requests and ended up writing 2k+ word fics- nothing new. i think at this point i’m gonna stop trying and just go with the flow lmao
anyways i thought i’d mention that in my eye, this is the embodiment of a perfect request. idk who u are but i really like u, dear anon lmao- i hope it’s to your liking <33
masterlist
word count: 2,3k
warnings: tw // smut | cw // size kink, belly bulge, daddy kink, dom/sub dinamic, degrading, praise kink, spitting, cum play, gagging, choking, swearing, begging kink, dirty talk
summary: Draco finds y/n out of bed in the middle of the night with one of her male friends and gets jealous, resulting in him punishing her to make sure she knows who she belongs to.
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(credits to the rightful owner of this gif)
you felt like a deer in headlights when he caught you. you were sitting on one of the hardwood counters with one of your good friends, Ron, in the kitchens, snacking on any kinds of leftover desserts and goods you could find.
it wasn’t a rare occurrence for the two of you to go for a midnight snack every once in a while. when you would get hungry in the middle of the night but didn’t want to roam the cold, dark halls of Hogwarts alone, you knew the ginger Gryffindor didn’t have to be asked twice when it came to eating, so he gladly accompanied you on your late-night “adventures”.
of course, the essence of your meetups was your shared hunger for food, nothing else. and you always got away with it until now, having perfected the art of sneaking around the castle. but what you didn’t take account of was the fact that your boyfriend was on perfect duty tonight.
you were giggling about something Ron had said when the door burst open suddenly, revealing a rather smug-looking Draco Malfoy. the pair of you whipped your heads in the direction of his figure in terror, but your features immediately eased as you realized it was your boyfriend.
then the terror returned as it occurred to you what circumstances you were in.
Draco’s smirk immediately dropped to a scowl when he recognized you, and despite the cool, bluish hues of his eyes, you could see the fire burning behind them.
you pushed yourself off of the counter quickly and stood up straight behind the gaping ginger, your eyes looking at the ground shamefully. you were in for it, that was for certain.
“what a great surprise seeing you two,” Draco taunted, looking between you and the Gryffindor, “out of bed...after curfew,” he drawled, “enjoying each other’s company,” he said after a pause, the way he grit his teeth was detectable through his voice. you didn’t dare look up at him, but you knew the boy was staring daggers through your skull.
“Malfoy, we were just-“ Ron started but was quickly cut off by the blonde’s stern voice, “don’t remember asking you, weaselbee,” as he gave the boy a hard glare.
then Draco shifted his gaze back to you, and motioned with his head towards the exit, “go on, y/n,” it wasn’t a request. more like an order.
you gulped as you contemplated your next move, and as a sudden wave of bravery washed through you, you leaned up and quickly kissed the ginger’s cheek as a goodbye, making both Ron’s and Draco’s faces flush to a deep red color, the former’s most likely due to this being your very first time doing what you just did, the latter’s due to the pure rage he felt cursing through his veins. you were aware of the fact that you just dug your grave even deeper, although you didn’t imagine it would be possible.
however,your bravery faded as quickly as it came when you reached Draco. roughly gripping your arm and yanking you towards himself, the blonde looked at Ron for one last time, the sides of his mouth curling up in resentment, “if i ever catch you stuffing your head after curfew again, you’ll earn yourself at least a month’s detention, Weasley,”
and with that, Draco dragged you out of the kitchens and closed the door behind the two of you with a loud bang. he then dragged you all the way down to the dungeons despite your pleads and useless tries of reasoning with him, his prefect duties long forgotten.
the moment the door of his prefect dorm closed behind you, Draco slammed you up against it with a tight grip of your hands above your head, your shoulder blades digging into the rough wood surface almost painfully.
your faces were mere inches apart and you felt almost dizzy due to the hard glare he was giving you, not knowing what to do for a couple of long moments as the room was filled with nothing but your ragged breaths.
“you’re so proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he asked lowly, finally breaking the unsettling silence, “whoring around with that fool behind my back,”
as he waited for your answer, Draco shifted one of his hands to your throat, gripping it tightly and cutting off your airway almost entirely, despite still expecting you to reply to him.
for a moment he pulled back and admired the way his large hand looked around your neck, how vulnerable and small you looked in this state; your pupils blown out, gazing up at him as you took shallow breaths, desperately pleading with him to take mercy on you. you were entirely at his will, and he loved every second of it. he could break you in half if he wanted to.
“it wasn’t like that-“
“shut the fuck up, y/n,” he cut you off and removed his hand, replacing it with his lips and sucking harshly at your delicate skin, making you whimper in response.
“you’ve been really bad, sweetheart,” he murmured, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck. “and your actions have consequences,”
pulling back once again, Draco admired his handiwork; you, all marked up by him, your pretty, frail skin bruised and abused thanks to him only. the thought of you walking around with his mark on you like that for the next few days made the tightness in his pants increase by the second.
looking deeply into your eyes once again with his grey ones, the Slytherin inspected you as he ran his tongue over his lower lip hungrily.
“listen to me carefully because i don’t intend to repeat myself,”
he brushed a stray piece of hair behind your ear ever so gently, and moved closer to you again until you could feel his chest press flush against your heaving one, his mouth hovering over your ear,
“i want you on the bed, naked, with your face down, ass up, and hands behind your back. am i understood?”
you whimpered at his words, the ache between your legs increasing majorly, “yes, daddy,”
as you were about to move off of the door and start undressing, you felt Draco’s hand grip your jaw tightly, “wait,”
you stilled and waited for him as he laid his other hand flat over your forehead and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes. he forced your mouth open effortlessly, and your eyes widened as Draco spat into your mouth while maintaining full eye contact. as his hand snaked back to your throat, he moved even closer with his eyes closed, ghosting his lips over yours, whispering the word onto your skin, “swallow,”
you obeyed, and the blonde smirked as he felt the faint outline of your Adam’s apple bob against his palm that was pressed tightly to your throat before finally letting you go.
you did as you were told, shedding your clothes as quick as you could and felt your nipples harden as they came in contact with the cold, silk sheets. you laid in the same position you were instructed to be in; the side of your face pushed against the mattress, your hands clasped together behind your back and your spine arched, your glistening cunt on display.
just as you started to get antsy from the suspense building up inside you, you felt Draco’s presence at the end of the bed behind you before your face was suddenly pushed further into the mattress by his large hand at the back of your head. you felt him lean over you, his clothed erection rubbing against your throbbing clit just at the right angle.
“you know you’re daddy’s little angel, right?” his breath was hot against your skin, his deep voice crisp as it reverberated inside your ear.
“i do,” you breathed, reveling in the sudden, sweet feeling of butterflies in your stomach at this unexpected, tender gesture.
“good,” he chuckled lowly as his slender fingers buried themselves in the silky strands of your hair, roughly yanking on them and making your neck arch so that you were looking at the ceiling.
“because he’s going to fuck you like you’re the filthiest fucking whore he’s ever laid his hands on,”
you were certain that was the hottest fucking thing anyone has ever said to you, hands down.
your arousal practically dripping down the inside of your thighs was a really great indicator of that. those aforementioned butterflies were replaced with a burning fire inside of your abdomen in a matter of seconds.
your hair was released and you were left with a numb feeling spreading across your scalp as you plummeted back against the mattress.
you heard shuffling, zippers unfastening, clinking of metal but wouldn’t dare turn your head to look, having learned from your previous mistakes and knowing it would only result in you getting punished even further.
suddenly, you felt one of Draco’s hands tightly grip your forearms and secure them behind your back, then the tip of his length slipping inside of your entrance but just for a second, making you whine in frustration.
“beg for it, whore,” the boy taunted, running his dick along your u-spot, coating himself in your arousal.
“please, i beg you. please make me cum for you, daddy-” you pleaded but were quickly cut off by the force of him pushing into you suddenly.
not even waiting for you to adjust, Draco set a torturous pace that had you screaming with every fiber of your being, feeling his cock brush bruise your cervix with the force of his thrusts.
although not having any doubts about your faithfulness, seeing you together with Ron did something to him. and that something almost smelled like jealousy.
feeling the aching need to get rid of it, the best solution for him was to fuck it out of his system. somehow he needed to remind you, and maybe even remind himself that you entirely belonged to him and nobody else, that you were his. his to touch, his to look at, his to give and take pleasure from whenever and however he pleased. seeing you under him, your small hands restrained by his large ones as you wailed for him seemed to be a pretty good method if he was being honest.
soon, you felt Draco’s hand snake to your front and across your chest, his forearm resting in the valley of your breasts as he grabbed you by the neck and yanked you up, pushing your back flush against his chest.
the new angle hit spots inside you didn’t even know existed and had you screaming out his name while rolling your head back against his shoulder, hiding your face in the crook of his neck as you tried your best to muffle your pornographic moans.
dipping his head down to suck at your collarbone, Draco caught the sight of your belly.
more specifically the bulge that seemed to appear and disappear with every single one of his thrusts. smirking, the boy slid his hand and covered the stretching skin with his large palm, feeling his dick poke through your skin and brush against his hand simultaneously.
easing his grip on your neck, and moving to grip your jaw and force you to look down, Draco leaned in to husk into your ear, “do you see that, poppet?”
you breathily moaned in response as you caught the sight of the outline of his dick showing through your tummy.
“that’s me completely demolishing your insides,” moaning, the boy grabbed one of your hands and put it right over the bulge, applying pressure with his palm over yours, keeping it there. forcing you to feel every little movement of him taking you.
“you’re so small compared to me, so fragile,” he mused, the speed of his breathing increasing by the second.
you could barely comprehend what Draco was saying at this point, all your attention was directed to the excruciatingly tight feeling in your abdomen.
“can i please cum?”
“i don’t know, can you? i don’t think dirty sluts like you deserve to cum. you should be thankful i’m even laying a finger on you,”
the mockery in his voice made you whine, the burning sensation of your insides only increasing by the second.
“please daddy. i’m so sorry, promise i’ll be good,” you pleaded, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes out of pure desperation. the hand resting on your lower abdomen started to slip down dangerously close to your clit, eager to ease the throbbing.
of course, Draco had none of it and gripped your wrist and roughly pulled it behind your back, to its original place, making your tears finally slip down your cheeks, feeling overly frustrated.
“don’t be such a desperate slut, you know i hate those,”
“please,”
groaning, the boy slid his hand down to your clit, applying pressure with his thumb, “fucking whore. go on, cum for me. coat my dick,”
that was all you needed to finally let go, feeling a massive wave of euphoria wash over you as you arched your back, your screams echoing off the walls of the dorm as you thrashed under Draco’s firm hold, your movements pushing him over the edge as well. he came inside you with a strangled, low moan that gave you chills.
after he stopped his movements completely, the boy let go of your quivering body and laid it gently back on the mattress before turning you over so he could hover over you.
“look at you, baby. so beautiful. you are so good to me,” Draco gave you an open-mouthed kiss in order to distract you as he reached a hand down, pushing two fingers inside you. the burning feeling of overstimulation seared through your veins as you cried out, your back arching off of the mattress.
the blonde shushed you gingerly as he pulled back to watch his hand retract from your throbbing heat, his fingers coated in the glittering mix of both of your cums.
as he pulled them out, you saw a string of the substance connect the tips of fingers to your aching count and couldn’t help the moan that escaped your mouth as he pushed his middle finger into his mouth, sucking it clean with a content hum.
leaning to hover over you again, Draco tapped your lips with his pointer finger, pushing it in to make you taste the heavenly tang of your cum mixed with his, smirking as he heard you gag on his digits, “good girl,”
“hopefully from now on, you’ll think twice before going behind my back again.”
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itsnsfwalways · 9 months ago
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Edge Of My Seat
warnings: female reader, mean dom! mgg, degradation (like.... really intense humiliation and ownership talk), slight daddy kink, exhibitionism, overstimulation, choking, squirting, deep subspace, branding (oops), fluffy aftercare (quite a bit of tears oops again)...... i think that’s everything. good luck.
prompt from the lovely @slutforthegubes / @spencersbed (literally one of my favs): i was thinking maybe a fic where you and him are out with the cast but you keep teasing him. when he almost cums his pants is when he decides enough is enough. he makes up an excuse for y’all to leave. the whole car ride home he edges you. once y’all get him he takes you over his knee and spanks you. after he deems fit, he overstimulates you and makes you beg for him to fuck you. when he does finally fuck he absolutely rails you. afterwards he gives you aftercare. he puts lotion on any marks, cleans you up, cuddles you and makes sure you are okay.
A/N: the fact that this has taken me a month to write..... i’m so sorry bre LMAO. i hope you enjoy and that it hits all the right spots !
See, it wasn’t necessarily your fault that you were riled up. Matthew didn’t touch you once this morning, besides a few kisses and your morning cuddles, of course, but no funny business whatsoever! You knew that you were meeting the crew for lunch later today, and made it your mission today to show him what he’s missing.
“Come on, baby, right here,” he whispers to you, touching your waist as if you were a flower ready to break while he guides you into the table, sitting next to you and immediately putting a hand on your thigh, unable to go a few minutes without any physical contact.
A whimper almost escapes your throat at the touch, so worked up over, what, not getting off before noon? God, who have you turned into? Shaking your head from side to side to clear your thoughts, you turn your attention over to Matthew, who’s already ordering you two drinks, his left hand moving in the air as he speaks to the waitress while his right thumb continues to rub small circles into your thigh. Your eyes zero in on his gorgeous hands, because, wow. His long, skillful fingers didn’t even have to be near you and you turned into a sex-deprived slut around him, only wanting one thing.
You turn your body more towards Matthew, sliding your hand under his shirt to rub his back while your other sneaks around the front, softly tracing over his stomach. He hums, glancing over to you before squeezing your thigh, thinking you just wanted some affection right now, but his eyes harden when he feels you trace his happy trail, just barely touching the skin but it’s enough to make him inhale sharply, covering it up with a cough.
“What are you doing?” Matthew lowly asks, his nails beginning to dig into your thigh, sending goosebumps down your arms in excitement. You shrug, slowly bringing a finger down to trace across his hip, going across his inner thigh to ghost across his growing bulge. You do your best to cover up the smirk crawling on your face but you catch Adam’s eye when you look away, blushing when he says loudly, “Hey! What kinda funny business are you two doing?”
“You wish, Rodriguez,” you laugh, placing your hand on top of Matthew’s bulge and looking back to him, raising your eyebrows to see if he’s okay with it. And of course he is, but you were breaking the rules, and you knew he was going to make you pay for it when you got back. Perfect.
Palming him slowly, you watch as he stutters his way through ordering for the both of you, knowing you’ll be able to see the indents from his fingernails for at least a day with how hard he’s gripping you. You hand your menu over to him with a completely innocent look on your face, and can feel him twitch underneath you when he takes it with clenched teeth, handing it over to the waitress with a tight, “thanks.” Sweeping a hand through his hair, he moves his eyes over to you, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Better stop now, little girl. You’re already in for a punishment for being such a greedy mess while I’m trying to enjoy lunch, don’t want to make it worse by continuing it, hmm?” When he pulls back, you bite your lip to attempt to contain your smile as you shake your head slowly back and forth, beginning to unzip his pants extremely slowly, not breaking eye contact with him. His bottom lip finds itself between his teeth as he stares down at you, not being able to smack your inner thigh because he was literally right across from his friends, and more importantly, his coworkers.
He lets go of your leg finally, grabbing his glass and gripping it with more force than necessary, his blood boiling at the sheer disobedience you were showing him. Deciding the best option for him would be to ignore you, he begins talking to AJ about something random, you honestly could care less, but decide two can play at this game. Tracing him through his underwear, his cock very distinguishable, you turn your attention to Paget, noticing Matthew’s eyes flit to yours when you begin speaking.
“Thank you for those flowers you sent us the other day, I meant to have him tell you,” gesturing to Matthew, squeezing him harshly through the fabric at the same time, “They were gorgeous, have them as our kitchen centerpiece now.” Paget laughs with you, taking a sip from her glass.
“Of course! I’m glad you like them. It feels like forever since I’ve seen your pretty face, your man likes to hide you quite a bit you know,” she points, squinting her eyes at Matthew, who just shrugs, looking briefly over at you. “You need to bring her out to hang with us more, I’m getting bored of just you.”
You laugh out loud at this, but catch yourself before you can really start digging your own grave. You watch him roll his eyes, fake laughing which sends Paget into another fit of giggles, while you just continue to pet him through his clothes, not stopping as the food is dropped off in front of you, Matthew sending the waitress a tight lipped smile as he shoves a bite of food in his mouth, giving him an excuse to groan deeply, the sound going straight to your clit. He refuses to make eye contact with you as he mumbles out, “This food is so good,” not even acknowledging your hand on top of him. Alright, fine.
Your hand finally wraps around his cock, pulling him out of his underwear and watching with a small grin as his lips part and he takes a slow breath out while staring down at his food. Feeling him twitch in your hand, you take it as a sign to begin slowly pumping up and down, taking your time to swipe your thumb across his tip everytime you reach the top. One hand snaps down to meet your thigh under the tablecloth, squeezing hard enough that his fingertips go white from the pressure, while the other moves down his face to hide his mouth, eyes darting across the table.
“Hey, Matthew, did you ever get that script I sent over your way? What did you think of it?” Paget asks, both yours and Matthew’s heads snapping her direction. You turn back to look at him, eyes twinkling with mischief as you put a fake innocent look on your face.
“Oh? I never heard about a script, what’s it about, babe?” You ask sweetly, biting your tongue between your teeth to keep from laughing at his reaction when you squeeze the base of him and he jumps up. His eyes flash dangerously towards you and you feel his nails dig into your thigh before he clears his throat to answer.
“Yeah, I-I did look it over, the Horse Girl one, yeah?” Matthew stutters, turning his head back to Paget and running a hand through his hair. She nods and you make eye contact with her, winking before moving your attention back to Matthew, who, unsurprisingly, refused to look back at you.
“I think it might be a good... a good fit,” he pauses in between his words, eyes slipping shut for only a moment, which fed your ego nicely. “Should be easy to just be an idol of someone, plus my only ‘big’ scene would be having sex with her, so,” he shrugs, picking up his glass to take a swig as your hand stops its movements. Paget’s eyes meet yours and you can tell she’s just as confused as you are by his statement.
“Alright, player, not in front of your lady,” Shemar laughs, gesturing to you and sending Matthew a questioning look. You turn your head back to him and begin pumping him again, much faster this time.
“Ouch,” you say plainly, swiping your thumb over his tip to collect some of the precum gathered there. Slowly bringing it back to your lips, you nonchalantly suck it into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as Matthew’s hips buck up into the air. His lips part, eyebrows raising as he grows even harder, watching your wet thumb slide out of your mouth seductively. His jaw tightens, a vein popping out in his neck when he brings his arm around you, pulling you closer next to him and making it look as if he’s kissing your head to apologize. His tight voice sends shivers down your spine when he whispers,
“If you don’t stop right fucking now, Y/N, I swear to god, I’m going to bruise you purple.”
Pulling away, he watches through clenched teeth as you return your hand to his cock, leaning up to ‘kiss his jaw’, but really muttering, “That a promise or a threat, sir?”, squeezing hard around his base. Your other hand moves to go underneath his shirt, scratching your nails down his back.
Matthew let’s out a harsh cough at that, licking his lips before pulling his bottom lip into his mouth, and biting, his hand slipping to your waist to pinch the skin there. Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth, you move your attention to your food as you begin to pump your hand faster, trying as hard as you can not to move your shoulder and give the two of you away.
Matthew grips onto your side harshly, squeezing the extra pudge on your body in his hands so roughly you know you’ll have bruises tomorrow. His spine was tingling, with pleasure, anger, frustration, and frankly, complete shock. He knew you were far from innocent, but exhibition was normally his thing.
Feeling him beginning to pulse in your hand, you start to speed up your hand once more before it’s completely ripped away from his lap, and you watch with a smirk as he stuffs himself back inside his pants, the veins in his shaking hands prominent from how tightly he’s had them in fists or grabbing you.
“Guys, I’m so sorry, there’s an emergency at home that Y/N and I have to go take care of, I hate to leave but we need to go, now,” Matthew stands up, taking your jacket off your seat and directing his last words towards you, nostrils flared in anger as he manages to keep a smile in his face. You try to suppress your grin as you stand up, waving goodbye to everyone quickly as Matthew grabs your wrist and pulls you away.
“Sorry guys, someone’s a little frustrated today,” you call out to them, your laugh being cut short by a sharp gasp when Matthew digs his nails into the inside of your wrist. He definitely shouldn’t be playing with you like this in public but, fuck, you always had to cross the line didn’t you. As soon as you’re out of everyone’s vision, he places a strong hand on the back of your neck, similarly to how you’d pick up a kitten by their scruff.
“You are so fucking lucky we are in public and with my goddamn friends right now or you would be bent over that table in two seconds. Who the fuck do you think you are, almost making me cum where you could be photographed and the whole world would know my girl is a fucking misbehaving cockslut. How embarrassing would that be for me?” You suck in a sharp breath of air at his words, barely registering you’ve made it to the car before he’s ushering you inside, shutting the door behind you and making his way to the drivers seat. Buckling your seatbelt slowly, you begin to rethink everything you did tonight, maybe you went a bit too far. Trying to gain any brownie points, you whisper out, “I’m sorry, sir,” but this just sets him off even more.
His fingers tighten against the wheel as he pulls out of the parking spot, refusing to make eye contact with you. The truth is, he was so fucking close and one move could have him cumming in his pants. But he decides to have a little fun with you instead, after all, you were still being a naughty little girl just asking to be punished. His hand reaches down to grip your inner thigh, fingers pressing into the skin harshly, light scratches coming from his nails digging into your skin. “I think you’re sorry you didn’t get to see me finish, but my good girl would never do something like that, you know who would though?” He pauses to smack your thigh once, quickly, before massaging the reddened area afterwards. You clear your throat before muttering out, a soft, “who?”
“A filthy whore would. But you’re not a filthy whore, are you? Are you, Y/N?” He pushes, smacking your inner thigh once more. You try to clench your legs together but Matthew pulls them apart quickly, gasping when his nimble fingers tug your thong down your legs, lifting your butt up to allow him to slide it off of you. He bunches the fabric up in his hands, and you can’t even start to answer his question before the lacy underwear is pushed into your mouth. He finally looks over at you, your wide eyes staring back at him while you force your hands to stay at your sides, feeling the way his fingers trace shapes along your thigh. “Since you don’t want to answer, I guess you are, which is such a shame. Here I was thinking I could let you cum, but if you’re just here for my pleasure,” he pauses to tut at your whine of protest, “I’ll just use you for me. Spread your legs.”
The harsh command parts your legs instantly, your pussy clenching around nothing but the cool breeze that hits it when your skirt shifts up your leg. You watch as Matthew slips his middle two fingers into his mouth, eyes focused on the road as he wets the digits. He pulls them out after a few seconds, leaving the trail of spit connecting his lips to his fingers as he leans forward to spit harshly onto them, bringing his dripping hand over the center console to land directly on your pussy. His fingers immediately move to collect your wetness before beginning to massage very slow circles around your clit, not allowing you to have him where you really want him.
“Listen closely, you fucking slut,” Matthew spits, glancing over for only a second to make sure you’re looking at him- as if you could be looking at anything else. “You’re not going to cum until I tell you to. I don’t want to feel you fluttering around me, no squeezing my digits, because that means that I would be pleasing you, correct?”
You pull your bottom lip into your mouth with furrowed eyebrows, nodding slowly and attempting to say, “Y-yes, sir,” but your words come out garbled from the makeshift gag. Matthew’s middle finger trails down to trace your weeping hole, tapping lightly on the wetness surrounding his favorite place.
“I’m not here to please you, stupid girl. I’m not here for you to play with, I’m not here for you to toy with, and I’m definitely not here to give filthy whores what they want. Have I made myself clear, or does my dumb little cockslut need to learn her place?”
Chills run down your body at his words and you can’t help the whimper that comes out, having to tighten your hands in fists to stop yourself from clenching, knowing that he’d be able to feel it. Your head tilts to the side to look out the tinted window, hearing Matthew laugh at your reaction, before feeling his finger slip barely inside you, shallowly fucking you so it only just passes his first knuckle.
You sharply inhale through your nose when a second finger breeches you, the two fingers beginning to massage the inside of you, rubbing against that one spot that has your legs shaking. You hum loudly, letting Matthew know that you’re close, but he only speeds up his digits, moving his thumb to rub circles against your clit, the sudden pleasure causing you to clench tightly around him. You can’t even begin to think of what you did wrong before his fingers are out of you and inside his mouth, sucking them deep into his throat to clean them of you, ignoring the harsh exhale you let out. He finally turns to you, laughing at the redness in your cheeks before taking out the panties from your mouth, slipping them into his pocket before he yanks you towards him by your throat, releasing it to slide his still-damp fingers past your lips. You do your best to give his fingers the best treatment you could, sucking them deep into your mouth while tracing your tongue in between them, your stomach swirling with need.
He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth and doesn’t give you anytime to catch your breath before your back is pinned to your seat and his hand is between your legs once more, slipping inside you easily and only curling faster into your g-spot when you moan loudly, your back arching against the arm on your chest, whining when his thumb returns to your clit, so on edge from this morning. He starts off by making small circles directly on your sensitive bud, ignoring your whining, before pulling his hand back and smacking your dripping sex, a loud moan filling the car.
“Tell me what you’re not going to do,” he demands, two fingers returning inside of you and immediately going to work while you try and think. Your mouth opens and closes as Matthew brings you closer and closer to the edge, watching you stay silent while your legs begin to shake. You gasp out, “Not going to c-cum, not going to,” clenching your fists as you interrupt your words with a sharp whine, unable to keep yourself from pulsing around him.
You almost shout ‘no!’ when he pulls his fingers out of you, but you aren’t even able to catch your breath before he’s going back and forth on your clit, watching you with his lips between his teeth as your breath stutters and your eyes roll into the back of your head, a pathetic, “please,” falling from your mouth. Matthew chuckles, moving his fingers to pinch your clit harshly.
“Who does this pretty pussy belong to? Remind me, darling.”
His even tone sends shivers down your spine as you pant out, “You, sir. It’s yours.” He hums, beginning his slow, circular movements once more. “That’s right. It’s mine, which means what? That I’m the one who controls when, and if, you ever come. I’m the one who decides what you receive, what you deserve, and when you deserve it. Do I need to repeat myself or does my dumb puppy understand?”
Your body thrashes in your seat as you nod quickly, trying to hold back as best you can. “Yours, yours, yours, yours, yours,” you repeat over and over, catching Matthew’s attention when he turns his head over to look at you. Pulling his fingers away from you, he places them in your mouth once more, his eyes moving back and forth between the road and your pretty face, tears already glistening in your eyes.
Removing them finally, he pats the side of your face twice, wipes his hand on his pant leg, and returns it back to the wheel, completely ignoring the panting girl in his passenger seat. He sniffs, trying to hide his grin as he asks, “You green, little love?” You nod immediately and repeat the color back to him, shifting in your seat, but stopping as soon as a hand clamps down on your thigh, pulling them apart. “You keep those there and shut the fuck up til we get home. I’ll deal with you then.”
It feels like forever til the car pulls into the driveway with a harsh stop, causing the seatbelt to dig into your neck slightly. Matthew scoffs when he notices you swallow and take a deep breath, mumbling out, “God, you’re pathetic, even my driving turns you on.” He runs a hand through his hair quickly, turning to you when you haven’t moved, nerves fizzing all throughout your body. “Out. Run along inside, little girl.” His voice dropped to a low, sturdy tone and sent a chill down your back, his eyes scarily calm as he stares you down. With shaky hands, you exit the car, rushing up the stone steps quickly while you mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to experience. The click of the door unlocking barely even registers when you here the familiar sound of the car door shutting, sending a rush of adrenaline through you. Toeing your shoes off at the door, you rush up the steps into the bedroom, almost feeling as if you’re being chased by a scary monster. Which, in a way, you kind of were.
You were just finishing hanging up your coat when Matthew walked inside the bedroom, leather shoes still on which you can’t help but lick your lips at. He just looked too good in them, mixed with the pale pink button up he put on this morning, his appearance alone was enough to send shivers down your spine. The expression he gives you let’s you know how much trouble you’re in, nothing but a simple smirk on his face while he methodically rolls up his sleeves. He motions you over with two fingers when he takes a seat on the chest at the end of your bed, which, to guests, looked fairly normal. You had come to learn, however, it served one purpose and one purpose only: the perfect place for him to sit while he spanked the living shit out of you. Hesitant steps brings you to stand in front of him, almost eye level with him when he takes your hips in his hands to force your body in between his spread legs. The silence in the air cuts through your body like a knife while he slowly unzips your skirt, watching as the fabric drops to the floor before glancing up at you. “Such a shame you couldn’t be good enough to keep your pretty little thong on until we got home,” he tuts, pulling the lacy black fabric from his front pocket to twirl it around in the air. Your face burns from the movement and he grins, hair wild around him making him look almost feral. Unhinged.
The underwear suddenly flies off of his finger and lands somewhere in the room, forcing your vision back up to his eyes. He reaches up with one hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, using it as an excuse to grip the back of your head with his fingers and yank you closer to him. A gasp is pulled from your lungs when Matthew tilts your head back, forcing your eyes to the ceiling so he can start biting down your neck. His teeth follow the artery down the side of your throat, pinching it just hard enough to make your pulse spike and he’s able to feel it on his tongue, the throbbing sensation going straight to his cock. He pulls away just for a second to murmur delicately in your ear, “Do you know how badly you’re about to get it, you filthy, fucking brat? I’m about to destroy you.” His words fall from his lips like honey, swirling around your head and leaving you basking in the gentle, sing-song voice he uses with only you that you don’t even notice when he pulls away until he forces your chin down to look at him. Matthew smiles gently, very gently, at the way your eyes remained unfocused for a second, because he was going to enjoy this, enjoy you. Chills pop up on your skin when your brain finally realizes what he just said to you, mixed with how nice he was being right now. This was the calm before the storm.
Your eyes meet his finally and he purses his lips at you minutely, squinting his eyes as he studies your face. You have half a mind to try and apologize but when your lips part, no words can fall out because you know, you know there is no going back. It’s almost like he knows what you’re thinking when he asks you softly, “You’ll use your colors when you need them, yes?” And waits for you to nod and mumble out, “yes, sir,” while looking down at his lips. He leans in closer to you, stopping an inch away from your parted mouth to ask, “And what are they, sweet girl? Why don’t you remind me?” You have to shut your eyes to breathe for a second and Matthew allows you to have this time for yourself right now, knowing how rough he’s about to be. “G-green, yellow, red, sir. I know em, I’ll use em,” you sigh out, leaning your forehead against his to ground yourself.
“Mmm, that’s a good girl. Why don’t you lay yourself over my lap for me then? Think you can manage?” He hums, the vibration from his throat mixed with his breathy whisper makes it impossible for you to not obey his every command, obediently turning your body to lay across his lap, head resting on his thigh while your feet hold you lightly on the floor for now. You know that they will be limp by the end of this, but you can at least try to have some dignity in the beginning. Matthew stops your thoughts quickly by starting to massage your ass, starting with the left cheek before moving onto the right, alternating between harsh, pointed grips underneath his fingers and soft, slow circles with his palm. “Normally, I would make you tell me everything you did wrong here, ask how many you think you deserve, that sound about right?” He questions, nails digging in to scratch the skin around your hips. You whimper in the back of your throat and squeeze your eyes shut, breathing out, “yes, sir,” to appease him. Matthew hums, moving his hands down to scratch at the back of your thighs, the sensitive skin causing you to suck in a harsh breath of air. You press your forehead deeper into his thigh at his next words, choking on a gasp.
“See, Y/N, I just don’t think you deserve that. You wanted to be a nasty whore in front of all of my friends, so why should I give you that common courtesy when you’re just a little slut?” He punctuates the end of his question with a harsh slap, the pinky ring he put on today biting into the skin of your ass. You barely have time to apologize before he slaps you again, this time on the other side. His other arm reaches for your neck, holding the back of it similarly to a scolded child, tightening his grip when he shouts, “Answer me!” and spanks you once more. The pain bites through you like you fell on ice and Matthew revels in the high pitched whine that rings throughout the room. “You shouldn’t, sir, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, please, just punish me,” you cry out, pressing wet kisses to his thigh.
Fuck, Matthew liked hearing that and tilted his head back, biting his lip, the rush of power that ran through him at your words had his hands shaking. He feels you choke out a cough around his hand and releases your neck from the tight grip he had it in. He sniffs, running a finger lightly down your spine. “I’d apologize for that but I just don’t really care,” and you can sense the grin on his face when he spanks you once more and has you moaning against his leg.
The feeling is beyond words, the stinging sensation not even pain at this point but pleasure, it feels like every spank is bringing you closer and closer. Matthew’s pant leg has to be soaked by now from your drooling mouth but you don’t even notice, only letting out rough gasps or ‘thank you, sir’. Suddenly, you feel a smack on your upper thigh, and, without even thinking, reach a hand down to cover your skin.
Before you could even blink, Matthew had grabbed your waist, placed you sitting on the wooden chest, and was walking towards the closet, not speaking a word to you. Grateful for the break, you brace yourself with your hands on the chest and try and get yourself back to Earth, wiping the drool off your chin with a grimace. You can feel your sticky, shaking thighs and ass burn from the direct contact but your face burns even brighter when you feel the wood below you become damp from your dripping center. You couldn’t remember how many spanks you had gotten at this point, your head was starting to get hazy and your body was on fire, needing Matthew’s touch. Your head snaps up when the clicks of Matthew’s shoes grow louder and your stomach drops when you see the metal handcuffs in his hands, no change in the calm manner he’s presenting. A rush of heat goes through you when you see the damp circle on his thigh from your mouthing at him. He squats down in front of you to bring the handcuffs up, gliding the cool metal down your face while watching every small change your facial muscles make. A chuckle comes from the back of his throat suddenly and you look up to say a small prayer before looking back at him, watching as he taps the cuff to your bottom lip. “You’re real brave for trying that one, Y/N. I mean,” he pauses to shake his head from side to side, laughing harder when he sees your thighs clench. “You just can’t help yourself, you stupid, stupid girl,” and then your face burns and your core burns and Matthew grabs your face in his hands and forces your eyes onto his.
“Ask me again.” He sounds desperate for it, need filling his quick plea and your mouth drops in his grip, wide doe eyes looking at him. He shakes his head, drawing his lips into his mouth for a moment before tilting his chin up at you. “Ask me to hit your pretty little face again.” He whispers this last part onto your lips, just barely allowing his bottom lip to skim yours before he pulls back to watch the way your eyes slip close and a soft ‘please’ escapes you without hesitation.
The control he had over you was a funny thing, it wasn’t that he had you on a leash, metaphorically, it was you that had him chained and owned. You owned him and he was thrilled to be able to show you just how much he appreciated that. His hand leaves your face slowly and you open your eyes immediately to watch him stand, his prominent bulge now inches from your face. “You can do better than that. Beg for me. Now.” His voice grows dark and he grits his teeth together, unimpressed with your whine. You swallow, looking up at him incredulously before managing to spit out, “Please, I’m so sorry, sir, please hit me. I want you to slap me til I beg you to stop, please, sir.” Matthew watches as your eyes grow glossy with unshed tears and your lungs have you panting for air before you see his hand pull back a ways. You close your eyes in anticipation, lips turning into a sedated smile while you wait for the slap.
The rush of adrenaline never comes and your eyebrows crease in confusion before you open your eyes to see Matthew smirking at you, arms folded in front of him, metal cuffs swinging back and forth in his hand. “You didn’t think I was going to give you what you wanted, did you? Cute performance, though, seems I’ve taught you well. A good little actress you are,” he pauses to laugh at your pouting face before unlocking the handcuffs, not even acknowledging the shocked gasp you release at his words. When you’re still sitting in front of him seconds later, he rolls his eyes and snaps his fingers at you, “Up, now. God, Y/N, do you ever listen?” He sounds annoyed with you, your mind tells you, and your body scrambles to appease him, jumping up so fast you almost fall. His hands catch your shoulders easily, it was second nature at this point, before he spun you to face away from him, forcing your arms parallel behind your back to click the cuffs into place on your wrists. With each touch, his fingers leave behind trails of fire on your skin, and you revel in the hidden gentleness behind each rough touch he allows you to have. Matthew gives your top arm a tug and hums contently when you stumble backwards into his chest, moving your body like a ragdoll back onto his lap, being careful to make sure your neck doesn’t slam down on his thigh. Your fingers grip your arms as you test your mobility, which was, not much to say the least. Matthew’s left hand resumes massaging your ass, and your face snaps back to him when you feel it. How did you not notice it when he first walked out?
Adorned on his middle three fingers were three large silver rings with his initials on them, reading out ‘MGG’ in a bold font. They were something he didn’t wear too often, but when he did, God. He liked to wear them so the letters were facing his palm, and allowed for each spank to mark his initials into you, to claim you as his. Matthew meets your eyes and grins, moving your head to face the floor slowly by taking your chin in his hand and turning it slowly, not breaking eye contact until you’re physically unable to keep looking at him. His hand goes down to tug at the chain between your wrists, lifting them up just enough to put a strain on your shoulders before letting them fall harshly onto your lower back. “Too bad you’re all chained up. Can’t even say no to me branding you, can you? Cuz you like it, you filthy girl,” he teases, finally smacking your ass twice in a row, a light one to warm you up to the metal first before actually allowing himself to let go. You squeeze your eyes closed and let out an almost laugh at the sensation, the feeling completely different. This was painful, and Matthew knew it, which was why he forced your eyes down. He didn’t want you to know when it was coming, to give you time to prepare. You deserved to be punished and he had no problem dishing that out.
A particularly harsh smack rips a moan from your throat and your legs start shaking, you had to be absolutely dripping on him at this point. “Please, sir, oh my god, please,” you cry out, unable to catch your breath when the next one comes, another moan falling from you. Matthew pauses when he feels you choke on a breath, instead going to trace over the quickly forming marks on your backside while he lets you catch your breath. “What are you begging for this time, Y/N, hm? I know my dirty slut isn’t asking to cum, not after being so disobedient today.” The feeling of him writing his initials over and over into your skin mixed with knowing that they will bruise by tomorrow causes you to squeeze your legs together to push off your orgasm, wanting to be good for him.
“I-I’m trying, Sir,” you gasp out, wrists tugging at the restraints. You rest your forehead harshly on his thigh, trying to focus on your breathing when you hear the slap before feeling it. Matthew starts again, hitting you quickly three times in a row, moving his hand to slip his thumb into your open, panting mouth. You suck his finger deep into your mouth, grateful for it, but Matthew has other plans, deciding to hook your cheek and turn your head to lay on his leg, your face dripping mascara when you make eye contact with him. The curls around his face stick to him with sweat, his eyes blazing and lips a dark cherry color, likely to his obsessive biting. His eyebrows raise in a condescending manner, eyes flickering to the wet patch you’ve made on both of his legs now before examining the handiwork he made on your ass. He rests his hand to thumb over the indents, clicking his tongue when you hiss from his actions. “Color?” He simply says, spinning the M ring around with his thumb. You whimper out, “Green,” trying unsuccessfully to stop your hips from bucking up.
He looks unimpressed at your actions, eyebrows raised when he lifts you up so your wet core is pressed to him, you legs straddling his thigh. You try to lift yourself up for a second but Matthew holds you down harshly, ignoring the small, “Sir,” you whisper out from how close you are. He ignores you and begins to slide your hips back and forth on his thigh, spreading your wetness around onto him. Your eyes are wide when he flexes his leg to meet your clit perfectly, whimpers falling from your mouths like prayers. “G-Gonna cum,” you cry out, holding your elbows behind you as your stomach tightens and your legs begin to shake. Matthew shakes his head in front of you, tsking lightly before reminding you, “That’s not how we ask,” and continuing to grip your hips and have you grind on his thigh, leaning forward to bite at your neck and darken some of the marks he left there before. You whine deep in your throat and open your mouth, tongue falling out when Matthew pulls back to look at you. “Please, can I cum, sir?” You whimper, hair sticking to your forehead when you tilt your head back to try and hold it off. Immediately, a hand is wrapped around your bared throat and tugs you closer to him, pulling and pushing you by your throat rather than your hips as his other hand moves to grip your ass in his hand, smacking it once. “No. You can’t,” he commands, stopping his movements and holding your hips down so you’re unable to move on your own. Matthew watches with a mock sympathetic expression at your creased eyebrows and open mouth, a sad cry leaving it which he can’t help but roll his eyes at.
Tucking his thumb into your mouth, he pulls your mouth open and leans forward slightly, the feeling of him spitting onto your tongue from behind your closed eyes is enough to make you drop your head forward onto his shoulder. Matthew doesn’t allow this to happen of course, instead lifting you up onto his other thigh, his grip on your hips not releasing when he begins forcing you to start grinding on him again. You hiss at the stimulation so quickly after you were that close but say nothing, he can tell in your wide eyes that you not only know you deserve this, but you want it. “Got to make my thighs even, yeah? Can’t have a mess on one leg and not the other.” Your eyes move to the thigh you just rode, bottom lip finding itself between your teeth at the large wet patch left behind, glistening in the light. Moving your head back to make eye contact with him, you whimper from the nonstop pace he had set, getting closer to the edge than you thought was possible. “S-Sir, I can’t,” you stress, a clinking sound ringing behind you as you try and move your hands, groaning when they don’t budge.
“Someone’s a little frustrated it looks like, too bad your hands are tied, bet they’d be tugging on my hair like a proper whore,” he finishes this with a harsh tug on your own, pulling you backwards so he can see all of you. Your eyes slip closed and you curse at yourself for being so bold earlier, what the fuck were you thinking. A harsh ripping sound forces your eyes back open and you see your shirt fall off your body, mouth dropped open as you watch his hand immediately move to slap your left tit, moving to pinch your nipple harshly. He looks up at you, a smug expression on his face when he shrugs, gathering the pieces in his hand to toss aside. “It was in the way, I don’t know why you were still wearing it.”
It adds a new element, the fact that you were stark naked in front of him and he was fully clothed, wearing a button up and those tight black pants that squeeze his thighs so well. You buck your hips up in his hand when you start thinking deeper at the power that he just exuded effortlessly, how he didn’t even need to try and you gave yourself to him. “Sir,” you whine out, a tear slipping from your eye in frustration when you feel your toes curling. He gathers your face in one hand with a soft smile, wiping the tear with his thumb before slipping it into your mouth, knowing your body better than you do as the action calms you more than you thought was possible. He leans forward to ghost over your cheekbone lightly with his lips, murmuring, “I don’t really care that you want to cum, darling, it’s not about you, is it?” into your temple, before pulling back. You shake your head, mewling when he slips his thumb out of your mouth and smacks you harshly against the face, lifting your legs up at the exact moment that would have sent you over the edge.
“Fuck,” you cry out, gasping at the slap and trying to stop your hips from bucking up in his grasp. Pulling your lips back into a smile, you blow the hair out of your face before looking up at him. Alright, so you weren’t going to come for a while, if at all, tonight. That also means that he’s going to be spending a lot of attention bringing you to that edge. Good enough. You watch as Matthew tries to figure out what has you smiling, fingers gripping your hips harsher to make you bite your lip to suppress a whimper. Standing up slowly, he moves you to kneel in front of him, forcing your head down with his hand on the back of your neck. He pets your head for a second, running his fingers through your hair gently.
“What’s got you so smiley, puppy?” The nickname he spits out at you sends a rush to your core and you whine at the way it makes you feel, like you’re so small and he’s so big, and god, is this a lot. “T-thought about your attention on me, Sir. Like it,” you moan out, pulling on your restraints and huffing when they don’t move. Matthew’s fingers tighten in your hair, and you feel the cool leather of his shoe sliding up your thigh. Your lips part as you realize where this is going and you can’t lie at how much you want it.
“Yeah, I got a bit of an attention whore as a pet, didn’t I? A tragedy, really, could’ve had you coming three times by now, but, you wanted to be a brat, so my hands are tied,” he comments, talking about you as if you were just a plaything to him. Your core throbbed when you felt the toe of his boot run along it, sliding underneath you so you rested directly on top of it. Matthew’s hand in your hair kept your head facing the floor as he continued. “It’s like you’re just too dumb to do anything unless I tell you exactly how to, you’re just a needy little thing who wants to cum, that’s all you are.” His degrading words mixed with the thrill of riding his fucking shoe rips a sob from your chest, a mess of “please, sir” and “yes” coming from you. He lifts your head up to get a look at your eyes before continuing on. “I’ll make this real easy for you, okay? Yes? Use your words,” He slips his thumb into your mouth and mocks you when you try and speak while your lips wrap around him, laughing when you whine and buck against his boot. He tilts your head up as says slowly, “You’re going to stand up, let me undo the cuffs, and get onto the bed. Then, I’m going to join you and you aren’t going to touch me once, okay? Got to train you somehow.”
Your cheeks burn at his last statement, whispering out, ‘fuck’, before shakily standing up, with his help of course, and turn around silently to let him undo the restraints. You hear them clink before you’re released, Matthew’s hands massaging each wrist for a few seconds before returning them to your side. You roll your shoulders once before moving onto the bed without another word, staring up at the ceiling as Matthew disappears back into the closet. Finally resting your head back onto the pillows, you attempt to shake out the tremors in your legs, whimpering at the cool air on your wetness. Your heartbeat is loud in your ears, matching the throbbing in your core and you can’t help but whine in desperation.
Matthew returns shortly after, wearing just his briefs and his button up, shoes and pants left behind. You feel him place something next to your feet on the bed but before your head can turn his fingers are on your chin, making it impossible for you to move. He meets your parted lips with a quick kiss, smiling when he pulls away to rub your cheek with his hand.
Pulling his hand back, he slaps you across the face once, relishing in the harsh gasp he rips from you as your head turns to the side. His fingers move back to squish your cheeks together, his lips pursed as he studies your frame. Your voice shakes when you whimper out a pathetic, “please,” but Matthew just scoffs.
“Please,” he mocks, your spine burning white hot from the humiliation. “Didn’t bring you up here to beg, especially that badly, Y/N, I’m disappointed.”
You can’t help the whimper that escapes as he tuts quietly to himself, shaking his head from side to side. His index finger moves from its place on your cheek to slip slowly between your lips, a chill spreading through Matthew as he feels your breath shake on his hand. He pulls it out suddenly, not giving you time to process before he spits down your throat, your eyes rolling back into your head on instinct.
“Getting too mouthy for my liking. Can you learn your place and shut the fuck up, little girl?” He scolds, angry eyes burning into yours while keeping his tone even. You nod automatically, licking your lips once before pressing them together, catching Matthew’s eyes drifting to watch you. He moves his fingers to trail lightly down your neck, brushing over your collarbone before going further down your body. You hear him chuckle to himself when you place your hands under your back, not trusting yourself enough to keep your hands away from him. His eyes look back to yours for a second before he grabs your nipple between his thumb and first two fingers, trailing the hard nub around them. His touch is gentler than you expected, your eyebrows pinched together when he moves to your other nipple, the fact that he was just playing with them right now was not like him.
“Not enough for you, hmm?” Matthew quips, bringing his fingers to travel down over your stomach, your breath hitching when he caresses both of his thumbs over your pelvis, pressing down just enough for you to let out a whimper, the tight knot in your stomach begging to be released.
“I think,” Matthew starts, completely pulling away from you to grab one of the items he put next to you. You debate turning your head to see but you know that the outcome would probably not be in your favor. Matthew’s hands come back into your eyesight and your mouth drops a little at what’s in his hands, a flogger with many leather strips hanging from the handle.
“Mm, you excited, puppy? You shouldn’t be, because what you showed me today is that my bitch thinks she’s allowed to use me like that. I think, you might need a little reminder of who the fuck I am. Because you know your place, don’t you, Y/N? Speak up, now.”
The grin on his face terrifies you in the best way, and your voice cracks when you whisper out, “Yes, sir.” He hums, flexing his fingers before wrapping them around the handle and beginning to run his other hand through the ends. “Tell me then,” he pauses for a while, turning his head back to lean down and whisper in your ear, “Who do you belong to?”
“You, sir, I’m yours, I belong to you, please, please, pl-,” your whimper is cut short by a swift hit across your chest, back arching off the bed at the sensation. He managed to hit you directly on the nipple with one of the strips, feeling harsh pinpricks of pain course through your body and leaving you gasping for air.
“That’s right,” he condescendingly praises, lightly dragging the flogger over your body. “I think you might’ve forgotten that I fucking own you. You are MINE,” your right tit this time. “My property.” Left. “My whore to fuck as I please.” Right. “And my fucking slut to use.” Two fingers slip deep past your lips for only a second before he’s removing the digits, a loud moan leaving you when he begins slapping your tits with his bare hands, feeling the slight sting of his rings still on.
“Fuck, Sir, please, I know, I know, please, I’ll be such a good slut for you, please, just fuck me,” you cry out, legs shaking from the pain flooding your system, your brain turning it right into pleasure. Matthew laughs at this, a genuine belly laugh, dropping the flogger on the ground next to you. His hand grabs you by the throat, pulling you slightly upwards so you’re forced off the bed a ways.
“Good luck,” he whispers, releasing you before finally beginning to unbutton his shirt, taking his time taking his eyes up and down your naked body, small red marks already appearing from how hard he’s grabbing you. Dropping the shirt behind him, he moves to sit between your legs, forcing your hips to come off the bed and into his lap, a small, “thank you, sir” coming from you. He smirks at you, taking his thumb into his mouth to suck it past his lips, his cheekbones protruding and your mouth watering at how fucking hot he looks, watching closely when he pops it from his mouth and he grins at you, leaning forward to spit directly on your pussy. “I wouldn’t be thanking me just yet, pretty thing.”
A gasp escapes you when he brings his thumb down to your throbbing clit, the slightest touch making your hips jump but you force them down, closer to him. He begins to trace small circles on you, feeling you start to flutter already from the gentlest touch. “Close already, are we?” You whimper out, nodding quickly. “‘S a shame you had to be a bad girl then.” You hold back a groan at his words, clenching tighter to try and hold off your orgasm.
Feeling this, Matthew smacks your inner thigh, hard, and slides a finger into you, shaking his head back and forth when he sees your legs start to shake. “Don’t get all coy on me now, go ahead and relax. Wanna feel how aching you are for me without having to worry if I’ll be able to take my finger out of your greedy pussy.” He finishes his sentence by slipping another finger inside and beginning to curl his fingers towards himself, finding that soft spot inside of you instantly. Your neck cranes backwards while your lungs beg for air, unable to breathe at this point, let alone hold off your impending orgasm. Matthew senses this, and withdraws his fingers at the last second, smirking at the loud whine you release.
“Tell you what,” he starts, pausing to spit roughly on your clit, glancing back up at you when you cry out in frustration. “If you can put that dirty mouth to good use and beg for me, I’ll fuck you. Use those crocodile tears and give me a good performance.”
You gasp out, shaking your head from side to side as your hips start bucking, which Matthew puts a stop to immediately. “Not... not a performance, please, sir, please please please please please fuck me, I’ve been so-so good and haven’t touched once! I’m so sorry, please just fuck me, I’ve learned my lesson, please.” You’re crying by the end, your body on fire and the bubble in your stomach feels like it’s ready to burst, hands shaking from the adrenaline.
“Again.” Is all you hear from Matthew, and you lift your head up and whine, staring up at him with eyes filled with tears, not breaking eye contact as he pushes his fingers inside of you once more, finding your special spot with ease and pressing. Your eyebrows knit together as you moan, cutting yourself off to rush out, “Sir, please, use me, please just get yourself off, fuck me like a toy for your pleasure, please just fuck me. Need you to hurt me, Daddy.” The title you give him spurs him on further and you sigh when you feel him get up and slide his briefs down, your head lolling to the side in exhaustion and, to be fair, preparation for what’s to come.
“Hey,” Matthew snaps, pulling your spaced-out eyes back to see him in between your legs once more, watching as he leans forward to massage his tip against your wetness, coating himself in seconds. “Eyes on me. I’m giving you my cock and you can’t even say anything to me? Don’t care where you are, I’ve trained you better.”
You can feel the degradation as faraway as you were and you blink up at him before nodding quickly, thanking him as if your life depended on it. He leans forward, one arm going to lift up your back, his free hand guiding himself slowly inside of you, simultaneously moaning with you as he sinks deep into your pulsing walls.
Without giving you a moment to think, he sets up a brutal pace, his hips snapping forward and hitting your swollen clit with each thrust, repeated moans and screams falling from your lips as you try and keep breathing from how good he’s fucking you. You can feel his hard, hard cock inside of you, and you know that if you were to look you would be able to see him poking through your skin slightly.
As if he was reading your mind, Matthew pushes down on your stomach and a scream rips from your throat, the pressure from both sides making it impossible to think anymore. “Y’fuckin like that, nasty girl, can see me fucking your tight cunt through your stomach, yeah? Yeah?” He presses down harder until you scream out, “Yes!” thrashing on the bed underneath him. He groans, removing his hand to hold onto the headboard in front of you, keeping his fast, deep pace as he stares down at you.
“Hardest I’ve been in my fucking life, I swear, got me fucking whipped for this cunt, but I know you’re just as bad for my cock, huh, baby? Gonna feel me for days.” He moves his arm out from underneath you to cup one of your cheeks, watching with a smile as you nuzzle into it out of habit. He leans down to kiss you sweetly, too sweetly for how he’s fucking you, his lips meeting yours and just sitting there for so long, just giving you his touch before he’s peppering small kisses on your lips, before pulling away and humming, and you hear the slap before you feel it against your cheek.
He’s fucking cruel, watching with a grin as your head rolls back and you clench so tight you almost push him out, but he slides back inside easily and resumes his borderline torture on you. His fingers make their way over to pinch your cheeks together, your tongue falling out automatically which Matthew hums at, spitting slowly into your waiting mouth. Some of it falls down your chin, but Matthew catches it with his thumb, sliding it right back into your mouth. You whimper around him as your legs begin to shake again, unsure of how long you’ll be able to hold off.
“S-So close, Sir,” you gasp out, cutting yourself off with a loud moan when his hand moves from your face to push your legs over his shoulders, fucking harder into you than he had ever tonight, reaching spots so far inside of you that you weren’t even sure existed.
Breathing felt like a chore at this point, you didn’t know this level of pleasure existed, as if you were completely filled and satisfied, but also on fire and so close from the biggest prize of your life. You try and express this in a whine, and hearing Matthew tut, as well as his hips stutter once, you know what’s coming next.
His hands wrap around your throat and begins to use it as a handle to pull you on and off his cock, choked moans and gasps being ripped out of your vocal chords. Matthew groans deeply, pulling his left hand away to smack you across the face once, throwing your head to the side as your back arches off the bed, the new angle allowing him to slip even deeper inside of you.
“Stay there, stay right fucking there. God, my cockslut doing so well for me, letting her owner fuck her so hard, so deeply.” His left hand grips your hip, using it as leverage as he begins to pull on your neck harder, speeding up the pace. A mix between a gasp and a whine falls from you, chest rising and falling quickly as you try and comprehend how fucking good this feels.
“G-gonna cum,” you cry out, whining when you see Matthew shake his head side to side, causing you to squeeze tighter around him to try and hold off. Matthew chokes on his moan and his hands fall from your body, hips stilling inside as he sits up more. While you’re grateful for the opportunity to breathe again, it’s short lived when Matthew smacks you across both cheeks, not even giving you a second before backhanding you on both sides. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as your body shakes underneath him, pussy fluttering around him as you try not to cum.
“Oh, you fucking liked that didn’t you, you dirty slut. Think I should take a picture of you like this to show to the world, let everyone know how filthy my girl is. What would they think, seeing you so close with my handprints across your face, saw how rough you like it.” His head’s tilted back, lips dark red and bruised from how hard you were biting them, chin glistening from your wetness, looking like a devil in an angel’s body. His tongue peeks out to swipe along his teeth, chest heaving but he stares down at you with a grin on his face, watching your body thrash, bark arching and falling repeatedly while your hands clench into fists as you try and hold off your orgasm.
“Please, please, please!” You beg, openly crying and squeezing the absolute life out of Matthew. Hearing you sob underneath him, he finally takes mercy on you, bringing a hand down to rub fast circles on your clit, the other tightening around your throat, squeezing as hard as he knew you could take.
“Give it to me, come on, let go for me. Need it so bad, now, Y/N,” he moans, looking into your open eyes before finally spitting in your open mouth, the bubble building up inside of you finally shattering and you scream, your body convulsing as you cum, and squirt all over the sheets, Matthew, and yourself, feeling as if your orgasm would never end.
It was like your pussy got stuck by lightning, you didn’t know this kind of pleasure was possible, it was like every nerve in your body was exploding, every atom being stimulated by Matthew, and you knew your voice was going to be sore tomorrow but you couldn’t stop moaning, the feeling otherworldly. You vaguely felt him release your throat, gasping as you tried to catch your breath, feeling as if your entire body had a vibrator held to it, the aftershocks hitting you again and again as you tighten and release Matthew’s cock again and again.
Matthew swore he saw God that day, watching your head roll back into the mattress and cum so hard he had to hold you down to keep you still, fucking you through his own as he came deep inside you, unable to wait after being drenched with your squirt. Your moans sounded like a choir in his ears, spurring him on to make sure to get every last bit of your orgasm out of you, groaning lowly in his throat before resting his forehead in the crook of your shoulder, continuing to slowly thrust in and out of you. His arms tighten around you immediately when he feels how much your body is shaking, lifting his head up to get a look at your eyes.
“Oh precious baby,” he murmurs, smoothing out your hair around your face. Your eyes were looking right through him, not even realizing he was there as you basked in the warm cloud you were currently on. He leaves a few kisses on your temple before trying to pull out of you, a loud whine stopping him quickly. His thumbs brush away the tears that had already started falling, hearing you moan, “No, no, no, no, no.” Slipping his thumb in your mouth, he rushes out,
“Okay, okay, not going anywhere sweet girl. Mm, you wanna tell me your color, honey love? You feeling good?” The hand in your mouth moves up and down as you nod slowly, eyes drifting back to the ceiling. “You did so well for me, pumpkin, such a good girl. Do you wanna go take a nice, warm bath? Make you feel so much better, how does that sound? Good?” You blink slowly up at him, squeezing them shut when they start to burn with tears. Matthew wipes them away faster than they can fall, biting his bottom lip nervously. You had never been this far under before, he was sure, and to have you so unresponsive made him a little scared. He just wanted to take care of you.
“Babygirl,” he breathes, pulling his thumb from your mouth to wrap around the back of your head and pull you closer to him, head tucked into the crook of his neck. Your bare chest is pressed against his and warmth spreads over your body, happy to be close to your dom. You hum contently and light suck on the skin your lips touch, holding it gently between your teeth, not even processing the groan Matthew lets out. He makes sure that he’s feeling you breathing under him, mind moving a million miles an hour trying to think of what he should give you first. Nuzzling your head out of his neck, he presses his lips to yours, lightly sucking on each of your lips to distract you while he pulls out.
“I know, I know, I know, honey, here, I’m still with you little one,” he tries to console you when you whine into his mouth, his fingers moving to replace his now softened cock. His hand moves to cup your dripping sex and he gently pushes a finger inside, but by the look on your face he knows you felt empty. “You can warm my cock later, but I’m gonna sit you up right now, my love,” he whispers, sliding his finger out of your quivering heat.
Pulling away slightly to make you chase his lips, he uses this as an opportunity to gently lift you up and sit in his lap, arms deadweight over his shoulders and your forehead pressed to his sternum. He wraps one arm across your entire back, holding you tightly towards him while the other hand strokes your back up and down. He continues to murmur, “good girl,” and humming in the back of his throat, knowing the deep vibrations from his vocal chords is soothing to you. The change in position allows him see all the marks he’s left down your back, nail scratches, small angry red marks left by gripping you a bit too tightly. He also gets a look at the top of your ass, handprints and small ‘MGG’ clearly visible all over. He winces while looking at that, maybe he went a bit wild on that one. He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he feels you move your lips against his chest, whispering something too quiet for him to pick up on.
“What was that, baby?” He asks, pitch raised as if talking to a young child. You repeat what you said, his heart clenching at your small voice asking him, “Bathtime?” Stroking your hair softly, he holds you to his chest, lungs releasing all the air inside of him. He pinches his eyes shut and his voice cracks when he coos,
“Yeah, sweetheart, we can go take a bath now, do anything you want. Oh, little one,” he murmurs, feeling your tears fall onto his chest. He takes your face in his hands, studying your expression carefully. Your mouth parts slightly and he takes it as a sign to place his thumb back inside your mouth, watching you hum in appreciation. Lifting you up carefully, he brings you over to the bathroom, sitting on the edge of the tub with you in his lap while the water begins to run.
A small whine catches his attention from where he was pouring epsom salts into the bath, his head snapping to yours quickly. Your big y/e/c eyes stare up at him, still very hazy but recognizing where you are now. Releasing his thumb from your mouth, you begin to mumble, “Love you, love you, love you, love you,” over and over again, reaching your arms over his shoulders to hug him tightly. Feeling his arms wrap around your back, you breathe in his scent, senses overwhelmed with HIM. His lips kiss the side of your head as he sighs into your ear, squeezing you closer.
“Love you so so much, angel. Oh, you have no idea how loved you are, pretty thing.” You hum quietly, shaking your head back and forth. “Oh, you do know then?” His fingers run up your side lightly and you giggle, trying to lift yourself away from his skillful fingers. Pulling away to look up at him, you lose your words for a second when you see the bright smile on his face, eyes looking at you with nothing but appreciation, love, and a bit of worry still in them.
“Tickles, Daddy” you say around his thumb, having placed it back in your mouth already, as your eyebrows crease slightly because you think it makes you look intimidating. He hums, turning the water off behind him before his attention returns to you. A small chuckle leaves his lips when he sees your expression, watching with a lovesick smile when your lips turn up and you place a small kiss on the tip of his thumb. He swipes the digit across your lower lip, leaning forward to give you a kiss, sighing deeply into it.
“Why don’t I put you in the tub and you get all cozy while I go get some things for you? Oh, baby, don’t cry, only for one minute, okay? Daddy’s good girl can do it, so brave,” He consoles you, not liking the way a pout rested on your lips.
“Promise?” you ask pathetically, voice cracking while you let him slide you into the warm water, his arms getting wet when you hold onto him for longer than needed.
He can feel his heart breaking at your bambi eyes, overwhelmed with the amount of care he needed to give you right now. “Be back so quickly you won’t even notice, okay?” When you huff out all your air, he takes it as a sign to slip away and quickly grab everything he needs to, leaving you alone in the tub.
You bite your lip, reminding yourself that you were Daddy’s good girl, she could last a few minutes without him. Whining quietly to yourself, you rest your head on the side of the tub, feeling the effects of the last few hours catch up with you. While you were doing this, Matthew was running around the house like a mad man. He first grabbed the biggest glass of water he could find, some dark chocolate and peanut butter so he could get some protein in you, and finally grabbing the robes he threw in the dryer when he first got home. It was a habit of his at this point, he always wanted you to be warm, cozy, and safe.
You hear the record player turn on in the bedroom and perk up, the soft sounds of jazz slowly filling the space when Matthew walks through the door, arms full of different items that he places on the table next to the tub. He smiles down at you, taking your outstretched hands in his as he slides in behind you, pulling you closer to him by wrapping an arm around your waist. Soft kisses are pressed behind your ear as he sighs deeply, finally able to relax and completely focus on taking care of his baby.
“Look at you, my perfect girl, did so well for me. I got some lavender oil, you wanna put a few drops in the tub?” he asks you gently, holding the glass bottle in front of you. His other arm caress up and down your side, making it difficult for you to focus on anything else. “Y/N,” he draws out, his soft voice getting you to turn your head and look at him. “Lavender, yes or no?”
You nod slowly then, taking the dropper from the bottle and placing four drops into the tub, feeling so much praise when Matthew continues to tell you how good you are. A happy squeal comes from you when you curl back into his chest, feeling his laughter reverberate off of you. His hand reaches up to hold your head against him, the two of you sighing as you sat in your own little perfect world, nothing but love and calmness filling the space.
Hearing you sniffle, it breaks the silence you were surrounded in, sending a hot flash down his spine, Matthew’s arms pulling you back to look at him, your teary eyes making his fill with worry. Before he has the chance to speak, you choke out the most pitiful, “Bad girl?” His hands take your face in them immediately, bringing you close to kiss your forehead and shake his head back and forth. “No, baby, you’re my best girl, so good for me, so so good for me. My Y/N was just a little naughty today, yeah? But Daddy’s not mad, pretty. Got such a good girl for me.” When you shake your head back and forth in his hands, his eyebrows furrow, pulling away to look at you eye to eye, wincing when he sees how goddamn faraway you were. “Do you want to tell Daddy what got you so worked up? Maybe let me know your color, little one?”
You let out a wet sob, looking at his kind eyes staring at you with so much love that it physically hurts. “I just wanted you to touch me, b-but you would only let me kiss you! N-No lovin on me, but y-you are so good to me and I was being selfish,” you finally end, suckling your bottom lip before Matthew’s thumb replaces it, his other hand moving to cup the nape of your neck. His lips softly kiss your swollen eyelids, then your nose, then your lips, removing his thumb for a moment to pour his love into you.
“Not selfish, sweet pea, just gotta tell me you want me. I know I’ve got an insatiable puppy, who I love very much, yeah?” He smiles sweetly at you, pushing your hair back behind your ears to tsk, seeing another tear roll down. “I think you’re also just a little overwhelmed, should’ve let you eat more before I went so rough on you.” You can barely think of what he’s saying with the way he’s holding you and how kind his tone is, like you were a little child he needed to care for.
A cool glass pressed to your lips pulls you out of it, looking up at him while you drink it slowly, not having to lift a finger as he tilts his hand up for you. His tongue pokes out to wet his lips, watching as you drink almost the whole glass, turning your head away when your done. He drinks the last few sips in one big gulp, placing it to the side before unwrapping the chocolate bar. His thumb presses against your lip as you bite into the piece he gave you, the bitter flavor having you crinkle your nose in response. Matthew laughs at you, placing the other half in his mouth.
“I know, sugarplum, not too sweet, but so good for you. Got some good antioxidants in there.” He continues to hand feed you half of the bar, eating the other half for himself after you bite each square. It takes more coaxing for the peanut butter, but he knows that you trust him with your entire being right now and you’ll listen to anything he says. It’s almost unreal the minimal amount of effort he has to put in for you to do what he says, something that takes some getting used to, but, god, does he relish in it.
You feel his hands start to rub soap up and down your body, taking his time near your shoulders, neck, and back to give you gentle massages. A long sigh fills the air as you lie there, feeling so well-cared for by him. A cup of water rinses off the suds from your shoulders, but your eyes have slipped shut a long time ago. Matthew takes his time washing your hair next, scratching your scalp and making sure to not tug on any knots, you can worry about those later. Right now was just to take care of you.
He feels you shift in his lap while he’s rinsing out the conditioner, his eyes snapping to watch yours open, still very far-away. Leaning his head down, he gives you a kiss on the nose, feeling so full of love when you giggle at his actions.
“Love you, Daddy,” you whisper, feeling like any louder would ruin the moment. He places the cup on the table, turning you around to face his chest as he hugs you, kissing the top of your head. Your eyes fill with tears out of nowhere and you tighten your arms around him, making it difficult for him to pull you away to look at your face. His hands hold your cheeks while his eyes search yours back and forth quickly.
“Hey,” he gently starts, a small smile on his face while he wipes your tears. “I love you so much, little love. So so much. You’re quite far away still, aren’t you? Still feeling green?” His body can finally relax when you repeat the color back to him, tension dropping from his shoulders from the verbal confirmation. “Good girl, so good,” he hums, the praise sending flutters to your stomach. “Thank you for telling me your color, angel. Do you want to get out and Daddy can put some lotion on you? Got some ouchies we need to take care of.”
After receiving your nod, Matthew unplugs the drain and stands you up, helping you out of the tub and immediately into a robe. The two of you walk back into the bedroom, his arm around your waist while you lean on him. He had changed the sheets when you were in the bath, not wanting you to have to lie on the soaked fabric. Sitting on the edge of the bed, you allow him to braid your hair quickly, knowing that you hated lying on the bed with wet hair splayed everywhere. You hear the elastic wrap around the ends and then his arms are around you, head tucked into your neck to kiss you softly.
“You warm enough for me to do your butt, honey?” He whispers, grinning when you nod happily. This was one of your favorite parts of aftercare. He gently slips you out of the robe, letting you get comfortable on your stomach before he sits crosslegged next to you, gently ghosting his hand down your spine.
“I’m using special lotion today, do you want aloe instead?” Special lotion was what you always called the cream Matthew put on your marks, something your faraway self once muttered when he was taking care of you. With no surprise, you agree with him, and he uncaps the pot, beginning to massage the cool cream on your ass. His heart clenches when you hiss at the ring marks, immediately spitting out, “I know, I know, shh, it’s okay.” His thumb traces over them, cock growing when he feels how indented his name was into you. He snaps out of it when he feels you shift under his hand, continuing to apply the lotion on your ass, and a thin layer across the scratches on your sides and back.
“You’re so perfect, Y/N,” Matthew breathes, caressing your back while you turn your face to look at him. “Just, such an angel for me. So so lucky to have my good girl.” Your cheeks turn pink and you try to hide your face in the pillow, not making it far before his hands turn your body over to look up at him. Crawling over your body, he rests himself on his forearms, dipping his neck down to plant soft kisses on your lips. After a minute, he pulls away to lift up the covers and shuffle the two of you under them, immediately wrapping his arms around you to tuck your head into his chest. This was his form of aftercare just as much as yours, he needed to remind himself that you were there and his and that you loved him.
“No more cryin’, honey, don’t like to see those tears on my girl, okay?”
His arms hold your naked body to his chest tightly, like if he let you go the world would end. Feeling your soft sighs hit him every few seconds was enough to make his eyelids begin to droop, and hearing how even your breathing has gotten, he figured you had already fallen asleep, and finally allowed himself to breathe. You were safe, loved, and cared for. He’d just have to get some food in you when you two woke up from the nap.
THREE HOURS LATER
Your eyes slowly flutter open, the bright golden sunlight hitting them from between the gap in the curtains. Turning your body to face Matthew’s once more, you exhale slowly, trying to get out of the sleep haze you were in. Or maybe you were still under.
Perhaps your thinking was enough to wake Matthew, the dom side of him always just knowing when you were up. He groans lowly, tightening his arms around you to pull you tighter into his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head a few times.
“Still floaty, baby?” He softly asks, holding the back of your neck in his hand, the feeling so deeply comforting to the both of you. You shrug, muttering out, “dunno,” before looking up at him finally, seeing his tired eyes already crinkled from the wide smile on his face. You lean up to press a soft kiss on his lips, just holding them there and allowing Matthew to suck softly on your bottom lip, shushing the small whimper that comes out of you.
“Love you, baby,” he whispers, smiling softly when you repeat it back to him. “You know you’re my good, perfect girl, yeah? Gave me a good fright seeing you so sad over me,” he frowns, tracing your cheek with his thumb. You nod slowly, whispering “good girl,” to yourself, smiling when Matthew tugs you closer to him, thumb moving down to play with your bottom lip.
“Feel like I should also let you know I changed into a pair of clean shoes when I got home, don’t want my girl to actually be dirty,” and you whine into his chest, blushing at his loud chuckle.
“Who knew I had a squirter as my little love? Why’d you hide that from me?” Matthew fake pouts, and you blush, trying to hide your face in your hands, but Matthew’s quick to pull them away by your wrists. Trailing a hand slowly down your face, he turns your jaw to examine the bruises on your neck, small, but distinct fingerprints outlined on your otherwise unblemished skin. He tuts, to himself mostly, placing his fingers over the purple marks and lightly pressing down, reveling in the gasp you release.
“Such a shame your pretty pussy’s much too sore to take me, because I’m doing that again and again and again to you, very soon, my dear.”
A/N: so...... yeah. lol. i’m sorry ? idk what to say after this. that was a lot. hope you liked it !!! i’m ASS at taking requests (seeing as this took over a month) but i’m going to see if i can get into blurbs or little drabbles or whatever they’re called hehe so send in requests !! (i’ll have to dm you for clarification for my piece of mind if it’s a long piece, so expect that haha)
- lana xx
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blahkugo · 6 months ago
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𝟓 ༒ 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔣𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔶 𝔪𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯
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⤷ dirty valentine m.list
⤷ complete bnha m.list
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dabi / touya todoroki — daddy kink
a/n: it’s just pure filth. needy!rc & dabi being a dick daddy.
wc: 1.3k
tw: consensual somno, overstim, daddy kink (obvi)
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It’s always a pleasure to see Dabi asleep.
Not in fitful naps filled with nightmares, murmured pleas, and sweat-soaked sheets—or the occasional post-battle concussion—but actually resting. He doesn’t get much sleep to begin with, and when he does there always seems to be a grimace attached, a tick of his jaw that makes your breath catch, worried for the safety of his subconscious mind.
But on rare occasions like tonight, you get a little glimpse of your boyfriend truly at peace. Chest rising and falling at an even pace, loose black hair tousled across the pillow, cheeks softly flushed. He looks content, for once, and it makes your heart soar.
It’s really too bad you’re as horny as you are.
Dabi always demands you wake him at the slightest of necessities, claims he’d much rather be buried inside your tight, wet cunt then fighting comatose demons. You should, given how often you’ve woken up to him tonguing it, licking and slurping you as though he’s parched and you’re a glass of water on the nightstand. It’d be a welcomed surprise, really, to turn the tables for once.
Still, you don’t want to be a bother, don’t want to be the needy little thing you always are for him. He deserves to be looked after too—and besides, the sight of him so tranquil is almost enough to quell your salacious thoughts. Almost. You can’t truly deny the slick dribbling down your thighs, the way he could have you satiated and fucked asleep with a few pumps of his wrist.
But maybe you can have the best of both worlds, take this rare chance to play caretaker while still getting yourself off.
So you begin your little mission, clambering over to where Dabi lays peacefully and snuggling up against him. Your actions are silent, completed with the utmost caution as to not risk rousing him. And his warm body welcomes you, stirring only to pull you closer.
When you’ve successfully wrapped a leg around his thigh, you test the waters by humping against it once, twice—softly at first—only focusing on your own pleasure when you’re certain he won’t awaken.
Soon, you’re rutting shamelessly, lost in the chase of your high, a hand clamped tightly over your mouth to stifle gasps and low moans. The friction of your clit against his rough thighs is pure bliss, the slick that drizzles across his skin only provoking you further.
What would Dabi say if he saw you like this? If he’s stirred into consciousness by your sharp inhales and the helpless little juts of your hips against him? It’s dirty, you’re dirty, for getting so worked up over his unconscious body. Knowing him, he’d probably–
“Enjoying yourself, princess?”
The sudden quip makes you jolt, shocking you out of your thoughts as you rush to feign innocence. It’s no use, of course; judging by the smirk on Dabi’s face, it seems he’s been watching you for quite some time.
“I- I was just–” You struggle to explain yourself, feeling heat blossom in your chest at being caught in such an obscene position.
“Well don’t stop on my account,” he tempts, voice dangerously gravely, low enough to make your gut tighten and your legs tremble. “Looks like you’re doin’ just fine on your own.”
You can see the smugness in his lidded eyes, the way he shifts himself up against the headboard, throwing his arms behind his head and repositioning you directly on his lap. All the while, he ignores the whimper you let out, the quiver of your bottom lip as you silently beg for him to touch you. This is a punishment, of course, a petty consequence of trying to fulfill your own needs when he’s right here.
So, what can you do except follow the command? You begin grinding against him again, eyes trained on the beautiful man in front of you. He doesn’t say a word, simply watches as you bounce pathetically, desperately attempting to regain the rhythm you had fallen into only moments ago.
But with his gaze glued to your body, it’s impossible. Now that he’s fully present, you can’t help but long for the rough graze of his fingers, for the feeling of being poked and prodded by the nimble digits that know every inch of your warm walls. And he knows good and well how badly you want him to reach out, to allow you to melt beneath his touch.
Finally fed up with your failure, you mumble a soft, ‘please help me,’ eyes trained anywhere but his own.
“What was that, baby?” Dabi presses a finger to your chin, lifting it so that you’re peering up at him once again. “Didn’t quite catch that.” The look he gives you should be illegal, all pointed teeth and hungry eyes, an amalgam of pure arrogance and satisfaction that even a hero wouldn’t dare challenge.
Your hands dart out to grab at his arm, still helplessly writhing against his heated skin, “P-please daddy, need you.”
Within seconds, you’re lifted, then placed with your knees on either side of his bare leg. Dabi doesn’t bother with flipping you around, seemingly content with watching you fall apart completely on display. One hand remains fastened behind his head, but the other finally moves towards you. His fingers ghost across your thighs, coating themselves in your juices while he inches to where you need him most.
“Poor little baby,” he hums, swiftly sinking two knuckles into your wet cunt, “can’t get yourself off without daddy’s help, yeah?”
The sudden stretch makes you keen into him, hands scrambling for purchase on his biceps. Dabi curls his fingers upwards, pressing against gummy walls at the spot that makes your stomach heavy and your eyes clench shut. In just a few seconds, you feel yourself far closer to paradise than your own ministrations ever got you.
Soon, time is lost on you. You’re unsure of when you reached your first peak, or how many times you’ve cum since, though Dabi’s lithe digits never let up. You’re still meeting his thrusts, rubbing your clit against his palm with every pump and whining incoherently.
The only thing you know, the only thing that truly matters in this moment, is the God in front of you—his touch, his smug grin, his incessant urging that ‘you can take it, princess,’—but your nerves are on fire. You’re unable to voice your concern, too stimulated to offer anything but pathetic squeals and cries of ‘daddy, daddy, daddy,’ over and over again.
“T-Too much– ah, s’ too much,” you sob between gasps, upper body dropping against his chest when you can no longer support yourself. Instead of stopping, it only makes Dabi press harder—but he allows you the simple reprieve of curling into him, moving his free arm to caress your sweat-soaked head.
“Been saying that for a while now,” he grunts, wincing when your fingernails dig into his pecks, “but your sloppy cunt’s still gushing all over me, yeah?”
“I- fuck, I-” You can’t help but stutter, babbling through fuzzy thoughts. Every single part of you begs for release—muscles aching, skin sheen with sweat and tight walls clenching on their own—but he’s right; your body still humps against his every thrust, sorry little movements that achieve nothing but making you beg and blubber louder.
“One more time, princess,” he coos, throbbing cock straining against your ass, “and we can sleep.” Somewhere in your hazy brain, you know he’s lying, know he’ll be wide awake for days to come.
Dabi never gets a good night’s sleep, but it’s fine; he’s always quite content fucking you unconscious.
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nonsensegnomes · a month ago
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“Kentucky Gambler”, Dolly Parton // Supernatural (2005 - 2020)
definitely inspired this time by listening to @uhuraha‘s dean-the-union-man playlist in a fugue state & then suddenly waking to find i’d made this :)
@deannacampbell​ you might be interested in this? As We Have Been Saying, spn really is all about what people will do to avoid digging their own graves & then how they end up doing just that anyway...
IMAGE DESCRIPTION BEGINS
1. The photo of Mary, John, Dean & Sam from shortly before the pilot, featured in 1.09 // “He wanted more from life”
2. Mary’s bracelet of silver charms that told Dean she was a hunter in 4.03 // “Than four kids and a wife”
3. A closeup of Mary’s face just after she’s told Dean that she hates hunting & she won’t allow her children to grow up in it, from 4.03 // “And a job in the dark Kentucky mines.”
4. Mary sighting down the barrel of her gun after cleaning it in preparation for a hunt during 4.03 // “A twenty-acre farm / With a shacky house and barn / That's all he had and all he left behind.”
5. Mary glancing back at Dean, framed over her shoulder as John lies across her lap, just after making the deal with Azazel to save John’s life at the end of 4.03 // “At gambling, he was lucky / So he left Kentucky / Left behind his woman and his kids.”
6. A closeup of the ring John plans to give to Mary at the diner in 4.03 // “Kentucky gambler, who's gonna love your woman in Kentucky?”
7. A closeup on Dean as he scrubs his hand over his face while crying over Sam’s dead body in 2.22, revealing the silver ring he wears // “Who's gonna be the one to give her what she needs?”
8. Sam & Dean looking at John at the end of 1.16, with the bloody claw-marks of the shadow creature cut into their faces // “Kentucky gambler, who's gonna raise your children in Kentucky?”
9. Dean looking up at Mary as she feeds him a sandwich during one of his heaven memories during 5.16 // “Who's gonna keep them fed”
10. Young Dean feeding Sam in the motel room from 1.18 // “and keep shoes on their feet?”
11. Mary cradling John’s face just after she’s resurrected him in 4.03 // “But when you love the greenback dollar”
12. The angel statue from the end of 5.13 when Mary first says “angels are watching over you” // “Sorrow's always bound to follow”
13. The version of Mary that Zachariah controlled in heaven during 5.16, outlined by a sickly green light // “Reno dreams fade into neon amber”
14. Mary on the phone arguing with John in Dean’s heaven memory during 5.16 // “And Lady Luck, she'll lead you on / She'll stay awhile and then she's gone”
15. Mary in the flashback from 12.06, pointing a smoking gun at the monster she just dispatched to save a young Asa Fox // “You'd better go on home, Kentucky gambler”
16. Mary living out the dream version of her suburban life during 12.22, outlined by the light in the window as she turns away from the adult version of Dean trying to get her attention & break her out of the dream // “But a gambler never seems to stop / 'Til he loses all he's got / And so, Kentucky gambler, he played on”
17. The dark silhouette Mary saw in the nursery at the beginning of 1.01 and assumed to be John, but turned out to be the yellow-eyed demon // “He played 'til he lost all he won”
18. Mary tapping the faulty light on the landing at the beginning of 1.01 // “He was right back where he started from”
19. The dark silhouette of Mary as she descends the stairs in 1.01 // “Then he started wanting to go home”
20. The Winchester house from the pilot, with the shadow of that tree falling across it // “Kentucky gambler, there ain't nobody waitin' in Kentucky”
21. The ghost of Mary burning up in 1.09 // “When you ran out,”
22. Four year old Dean holding Sam as he looks up at the window of their house as it burns down in 1.01 // “somebody else walked in”
23. Young Mary’s scared face as she looks back at Dean just after making her deal in 4.03 // “Kentucky gambler, looks like you ain't really very lucky”
24. A closeup of Mary’s palms in 12.01 from when she sits in the car to stare at her hands after fighting the BMOL // “Seems to me a gambler loses much more than he wins”
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katsvgous · 28 days ago
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— HOW THEY CRY (ft. INSECURITIES) !
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featuring: izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugou, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, shoto todoroki
word count: 1.3k
warnings: cursing, mentions of blood and vomiting (but it doesn't actually happen)
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like no one is watching. as one for all's successor and all might's apprentice, the spotlight clings to him like a bad omen, heralding the desecration of his pedestal if he so much as lingers on the doubts that cloud his mind. izuku's tear ducts are built like niagara falls, so in spite of his attempts to stand firm, they always push fat, syrupy tears from his eyes to dampen the deep green hues retreating behind their tightly clenched lids. such a maudlin boy can't help but cry when the whole world seems to cave under his feet, especially when he's supposed to be the one carrying it on his shoulders, and that's why it hurts. izuku is exhausted—mind, body and soul aching for some well needed rest—and society still expects him to smile despite everything. wave after wave of bitter tears dapple the clusters of freckles on his cheeks, catching under the moon's pale glow, but their beauty does not make it any less painful.
why can't you be stronger? he can almost hear the voices of the previous holders, cold and callous, ringing in his ears. through blurred vision, izuku sees toshinori standing before him, an illusion weaved from the threads of lies, the traces of bitter sentimentality swirling in his gaze.
"you'll never be me."
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katsuki's tears are hot and shameful pouring down his cheeks, leaving blotchy red trails in their wake. he's angry, and like the gods above—whose ruthless fury paints the sky red, and sends hurricanes to raise the sea, not yet high enough to drown his grief—he'll let everyone know it. the bloodied stubs of his fingernails card through his hair before seizing it in handfuls, threatening to leave his scalp gnarled and irritated, and fuck it hurts, but he deserves it. for everyone he's trampled on, thinking he was above them when he couldn't be lower; practically buried in the grave that keeps digging itself whenever he bargains others' worth. for every life lost on a mission—the number growing too high for his ego to bear, and painted across his chest in red. all he sees is red, these days. it all comes down to this; the dents in the wall left by furious punches, his knuckles smarting purplish bruises; the music blaring from his speakers, violent and pulsating, because he won't settle for anything that can't silence his equally as loud thoughts. you can't keep acting this way, a voice snarls. it isn't his own, and it isn't anyone he knows, so that makes it a threat.
you can't keep hurting people and expecting them to fight back. they won't. they'll leave you. his nose wrinkles as more tears resurface, unbidden and pushed back with the sleeve of his sweater. maybe if he wasn't drained of the strength to object, he would stop crying—perhaps grab his frailty by the neck and throttle it into submission. but he's already used all of his energy to scream his throat raw, and it doesn't matter if anyone can hear him above the song playing. he doesn't care.
am i really that weak, lying to myself? i care. . .i care a fucking lot.
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with the lights off and curtains drawn shut, so that neither sun or moon may act as witness to his tragedy. not that it matters, he thinks, bearing his back to the ghost of his former self, seams torn down the middle and skin flowering for everything; his heart, his stomach and whatever blackened fragments that still remain; spilling out onto the floor. no one noticed me then, so why would they now? eijiro weeps modest tears; like shooting stars with seldom any wishes to grant; which fall to the floor just as he does, curling inward on himself—as if it would do him any good. there's a nagging sensation at his very core, tempting him to cup his hands over his ears as the anticipation eats away at him little by little. it's a fruitless attempt, even at best, when the dread sets like concrete in his stomach, and a smothered cry of defeat rumbles throughout the room like thunder, rolling through clouds of smoky gray. it's been a while, he thinks, pondering the date. he was doing so well, abandoning his insecurities in the dark to fester, when he should have snuffed them out for good. that was his first mistake of many, and eijiro cowers from the truth: that it won't be the last time he stumbles and forgets his way.
hell, he can't remember finding it in the first place, and all he wants is someone to guide him with their hand in his—the light in their eyes acting as a promise to not let go—but the world won't even give him that. eijiro hiccups pathetically when he cries—a plea for help lodged in his throat that never receives an answer—and he wonders briefly if this is how everyone else feels. unsatisfied, unworthy, insignificant.
how can i save others if i can't even save myself?
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oh, how the world turns for pretty boys who cry, their eyes kissed by the rain and choked by its ferocity, spilling over rose tinted brims by the gallon. denki awaits the very first tears with bated breath, the sporadic pleas of no, no, no falling from his lips, trembling as they catch between his teeth, gnawing until the sharp bite of copper dances upon his tongue. he suppresses every snivel, sob and whine with his hands, forced against his mouth like a muzzle, because god forbid he be a nuisance to anyone else. god fucking forbid he further drag the label of "loud, annoying blond" through the mud on the way to his room, feeling as though he's hauling himself as well as the weight of his classmates' words, digging into the most vulnerable parts of him like rusted shackles. he waits for the ruckus; from his neighbors or the weather, it doesn't matter; because he feels naked this way, inaudibly sobbing into his palms as he struggles for breath, and it's such a sacred thing, letting one you trust see the bare skin where wounds were afflicted.
he wishes there was someone to hold him, but there's not, so a pillow will suffice. he'd rather that than bawl into someone's chest, awaiting soft coos of assurance and their fingers tracing patterns on his back—that's what he tells himself. he needs to believe it, so that he doesn't waste his time revealing the rotting, unpleasant parts of him, only for them to cringe in disgust. i'm not much better on the outside, he heaves into the pillow, skin turning ashen from the tenacity of his grip.
i'd be stupid to think anyone wants me.
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like many young boys, bleeding through the crevices their parents carved, shoto cries like it's the very first time. he is abashed, as if the lamp light burns just as harshly as his father's unyielding glare, and the sheets—more securing than his mother's embrace, then turned acrid like the taste of bile in his mouth—are clawed hands, raking across his skin as the soft whimpers turn into rasping wails. each sob is strangled from his throat; aching and raw; and every sound afterword causes his heart to stutter, a dread instilled by the memory of endeavor's fist closed around his forearm. it's sickening, and it makes him want to spit up whatever he ate for lunch, but he can't even bring himself to move from the bed. he feels like a like a little kid again, but there's a strange sense of weightlessness, as if he's watching himself from outside his own body. somehow, that only makes matters worse, because the longer time stretches on, the more inclined he is to cry harder. no one's there to see, so it should be fine, but an underlying prayer still echoes in the recess of his mind.
this isn't fair. shoto pulls the sheets over his head, naïve as to think that it will save him from whatever lurks on the outside, threatening to further shape him open, his insides for the taking. i'm everything he wanted, but at what cost? he already knows the answer, but the hollow concave in his heart yearns to forget.
his family was torn apart waiting for him.
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dsmpxreader · a month ago
Interaction with Simpbur? (Gn pronouns)
"Hey I love your hair today! It looks so soft, can I play with it?" *they reach up as he leans down for them. They run their fingers through his hair, playing with the curls*
For a moment, he freezes like a deer in headlights, eyes wide. “Please do.” He says, breathless and quiet, a spreading flush blotching his skin red. His mind is racing, and he wants to hit himself for responding in a way that almost sounds like begging. (Shut up, shut up, you can’t let them think you’re a creep-) Simpbur forces out a laugh. “I mean- Uh, sure? Sorry, I wasn’t expecting you to ask for something like that, haha... But I don’t mind-!!“ He quickly bows his head before he can dig his own grave deeper.
Even though you asked if you could, a shiver of surprise still shoots up his spine as you’re actually touching him. A finger ghosts over your scalp and he can’t help but think your skin cells and his are rubbing together... He closes his eyes, melting into the touch. If he isn’t careful, he might start drooling. Not even you laughing, telling him that he really enjoys people touching his hair, huh, is enough to snap him out of it. Let him indulge himself for a moment, yeah? But like every other time his miserable life has granted him a moment of happiness, some fleeting thought has to disturb his peace. Oh god, fuck, when’s the last time he washed his hair? In his panic, his mind returns blank. What if it’s greasy, or gross? What if you think he’s disgusting now? His throat closes. He can’t just pull away either, you’re touching him, a memory he’s going to savour for the next three months.
When he panics, he spouts nonsense, this time being no different. Simpbur responds to your earlier comment, despite knowing too much time has passed. “And you sure enjoy touching mine! If you like it that much, just ask and you can keep a part of it, haha...” He trails off. He’s no genius, and he can’t see your immediate reaction, but even he knows there were a million other, better things he could’ve said. Immediately, regret sinks deep in his stomach.
It reminds him of picking the wrong dialogue option in a visual novel and watching your affection points with that character lower. Here though, he has no save file to load. In response, he does what he always does when things get too pressing, too stressful: he flees. Your hands are still on his hair when he suddenly perks back up and, as a result, they get tangled in them, pain shooting up from his skull and making him hiss. Fucking hell.
“Ah, sorry, I just- I just remembered I have a, uh, train to catch? Yeah! Yeah, I do, actually,” A rather boldfaced lie, considering he’s near his office building, and you know this just as well as he does. “See you later! Bye!” His voice cracks, and as soon as he’s out of your sight, he bashes his head into the nearest wall with a groan. 
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