#//I topped it off with a teeny drabble at the end there

[weepingwillowwonder]

Horny Hazbin Hotel Thoughts/Drabbles: NSFW AHEAD [Minors DNI! 🔞] -> -> ->

This is about Lucifer

Summary: Things you SAY you don’t like because it makes you feel either: shy, scared, or pissed off, but actually really turns you on and how they would react (explanation at the end) [PART 2]

CW: Teeny tiny bit of plot, Reader is scared of the dark, A Lil crying (not in a good way), Fluff, Oral sex through underwear, Cumming in pants, Dirty Talk

Walking around the hotel during the nighttime was always tricky. Since most of the residents would be away in their rooms for the evening, that would also mean most of the lights not currently in use would be turned off. As someone who even slept with a light on and needed the security of illuminated spaces, this provided an obvious problem.

With shaky legs, you tiptoed throughout the hallway, making your way to the kitchen downstairs. Once you reach the stairway, you peer into the dark lobby area and whimper softly to yourself. How on earth did you forget to fill up your water bottle before bed? You shake your head, trying to focus on the task at hand rather than cursing yourself for being forgetful.

Taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to settle your nerves, you slide your hand against the wall searching for the light switch. “I know it’s here somewhere..” you mumble, continuing to fumble around. There’s absolutely no way you’re going down there without turning on the light, thirst be damned.

As you approach closer to the stairs, your breath picks up as the fear takes over, the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You’re so scared that you don’t even hear the footsteps of someone approaching from behind- “Hey, uh..are you oka-?”

In that moment, it takes you a more than a second to comprehend exactly what happened- At the sound of the voice behind you, you gasp loudly, whipping around to see a figure in the dark reaching for you. Immediately you cowered away, shrieking in the process, only to find a hand wrapped around your mouth as you stumbled backwards against the wall.

“SHHH! Hey! Hey. It’s me, it’s just me..” He tries to reassure you, panicking just as much at your reaction. Tears well up in your eyes as your breathing slows down and you set your hand on top of his. “Lucifer?” you shakily call his name, muffled.

“Shit..I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he takes his hand from your mouth. “I um, I saw you walking around strangely and wanted to make sure you were okay…I really am sorry…” He scratches the back of his head uncomfortably and looks away.

Having a moment to gather yourself, you swallow and nod your head speaking quietly, “I-I’m okay. I’m sorry I reacted that way. I was trying to find the light switch…” you look down at your feet, fiddling with the bottom of your shirt, “It’s dark..” Lucifer pauses at your reaction and quickly leans in to turn on the light switch next to your head. “O-oh! Here!”

When the lights turn on you look up at him with a shy smile, quickly wiping the stray tears from your eyes, “Thanks.” He mirrors your smile, a light blush dusting his cheeks, before nodding and gesturing for you to go ahead, “After you!”

You start to walk forward down the stairs and notice him following close behind, asking, “Oh, were you also going to the kitchen?” He gives an awkward laugh, “Yeah, was just grabbing a drink.” You turn briefly to smile at him, “Me too!”

The remainder of the way was quiet, with only the sound of both your footsteps being heard. Approaching the kitchen, you paused upon seeing the dark void ahead in front of you. “Um…would you min-” you start to ask before Lucifer hastily reaches forward to flip the light switch for you. “Oh! Here we go..” he says, nodding as you once again express your gratitude.

You both quietly move to grab your drinks, you filling up your water bottle and him rummaging through the refrigerator. Twisting the top to your water bottle, you set it on the counter and walk over to the cupboard to look for a snack. While shuffling through the shelves in search of a treat, a loud noise followed by the flickering of lights has you practically jumping out of your skin. Lucifer catches a glimpse of your distressed face turning towards him before it goes completely dark. “Luci..?”

He immediately comes to your side as you whimper his name, trying to ignore how suggestive the tone of your voice sounds as you call out for him. Out of fear, you press yourself close to him, burying your face into his shoulder and curling yourself into his chest.

He allows you to seek comfort in him, wrapping his arms around you while soothingly rubbing your back. “Hey, you’re okay sweetheart I’m right here..” He murmurs softly, “It’s just a power outage.” Lucifer barely feels when you nod, noting how you tremble with each breath you take. He continues to offer you comforting words, cursing himself as his mind wanders at the way you’re clinging to him. ‘It has been sometime since I’ve held someone like this..’ he thinks, blushing.

On the other hand, once you've started to calm down, an identical heat comes to your cheeks. Where fear filled your mind only moments before, now was occupied by the sounds of Lucifer sweetly talking you off the ledge. Smooth and reassuring, he continues to speak softly to you, fingers tracing along your back.

As arousal creeps its way between your legs, he seems to mistake the quickening of your breath as increased distress and guides you over to the counter. “Here,” he says as your only warning before he lifts you on top of the counter, pulling a faint squeak from you.

A familiar throb between your legs makes you bite your bottom lip as his grip brushes against the bottom of your ass. How he managed to lift you up so effortlessly was beyond you. He looks up at you worried, hands skimming along the sides of your thighs. “You doin’ okay?” Flustered, you nod before remembering he probably can’t see you in the dark, “Y-yeah.” You take a shaky breath as his thumbs strokes the sensitive area of your thighs.

Before you realize it, you're murmuring his name, earning a “hm?” before leaning in to press your lips against his. For a moment, he doesn’t kiss back, shocked. When you pull away and start to apologize, his hands find your cheeks to pull you back in. Your gentle kiss quickly turns heated as the sounds of you both making out fill the kitchen.

His hands slide back down to your thighs, making you wrap your legs around him, and grabs two fists full of your ass to pull you close. You arch against him and moan into his mouth as he gropes you, hips inching closer to him. He pulls away from your lips to trail kisses along your neck, nibbling playfully, “Geez sweetheart, I thought you were scared of the dark?” he asks, chuckling breathlessly.

Your mouth opens to respond, but is cut short by a cry when he roughly bites into your shoulder. “Fuck that’s good…” he groans against your neck before moving his hand to cup between your legs. You can’t help the pathetic way you whine and hump against his hand, even reaching your own hand down to hold him harder against you.

“Was just trying to make sure you were okay..Thought you were scared...” He grits out as he watches you beg for a moment, his own hips rolling against the edge of the counter, before moving his hand away. Pulling you into another open mouthed kiss, he brings you to the edge of the counter, gently directing you to lie backwards. Panting, you prop yourself up on your elbows, trying to and failing to see his actions in the dark. “But I see you were looking for something else~”

You feel his fingers quickly tug the waistband of your pants down, lifting yourself slightly to assist him. “I was scared!” You try to defend yourself, but only receive a knowing smirk and an ‘uh huh’ in response. He doesn't even take your pants off all the way before grabbing the backs of your knees to press them into your chest. A low moan escapes him as he smells your arousal, mouth almost watering. “Can’t wait to taste you..”

He leans down, with his tongue out, giving you a kitten lick to sample your wetness through your underwear. His lips quickly close around where you’re most sensitive and give a rough suck, groaning as you cry out his name. Your hands quickly find purchase in his hair as he messily continues to drag his tongue between your legs, sucking an increasing damp spot. His hips move on their own as you tug on his hair, higher pitched moans muffled by his face between your legs.

Moving lower, his tongue pokes at your entrance through your underwear, playfully swirling around your hole. You clench around his tongue as he fucks you as far as the fabric will let him. As your whimpers increase in sound, he continues to eat you out through your underwear. You both moan in tandem, hips bucking up, desperate for release. He moves your legs together in one hand and presses a finger against your hole, trying to wiggle a finger inside.

Your eyes roll back at the pressure of Lucifer's fingers inside of you through your underwear. Pressing further, he stretches the fabric, before pulling out again. He pants as he fingers you, leaning down to bury his face between your legs once again.

Your hands reach to the back of his head and pull him close as you grind yourself against his face. He lets you use him and doubles his efforts as you senses you getting close. Between the warmth of his breath, the firm stroking of his tongue, his finger stretching you out, and your heightened senses in the dark room, has you tumbling over the edge.

Your body tenses as you make more of a mess, a higher pitched moan escaping you. Underneath you, Lucifer’s eyes squeeze shut as he feels his own release in his pants, rutting against the counter. He continues to sloppily suck your cum through the barrier, working you through your orgasm. When he finally does lower your legs, you fall backwards against the counter trying to catch your breath and feel Lucifer sit up.

As you both gather yourselves, the lights flicker back on, making you cover your eyes in the sudden brightness. When you do uncover them, you look up to see Lucifer wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, face fully flushed. He clears his throat to speak, but is cut off by an intruder-

“What the fuck guys! We're yal just fucking on the counters?! We eat there!”

----

♡ Okay, tbh while writing this, it took me a hot min to figure out what direction this was going in... 😅

[readychilledwine]

Daddy!Azriel x Pregnant!Reader Drabble

Summary - after being placed on house arrest toward the end of your pregnancy, you have lost some control on your husband, Azriel's, baby spending habits.

Warnings - mentions of pregnancy

Word count - a teeny tiny 800. Hence the choice to call it a drabble without a title 💙

Being pregnant was not easy.

You were constantly sore, tired, and had begun eating yourself and Azriel out of house and home, but you two would not change this miracle, this absolute blessing, for a single reason.

Madja had put you on house arrest this past month, asking Azriel to ensure you weren't lifting, weren't straining yourself, and were sleeping plenty. You were told by Rhysand and Feyre that your emissary duties could resume after your leave.

Despite Nesta's sacrifice, carrying a child with wings when you were wingless was still challenging. You ran out of room for the little one quickly, and being so much smaller than the average Illyrian female did not help either. The discomfort was the biggest issue, but Madja did not want to risk it. The plus side was constantly being home, relaxing, and your mate making meals, feeding you like the queen he believed you were.

The downside? Azriel had no self-control when it came to buying things for the life you two created, and you were no longer there to stop him from buying the mutual cravings you two seemed to have, countless baby supplies, and of course, the baby's first set of Illyrian Leathers. In the form of a onesie. How that even worked, you didn't ask, he was too thrilled as he held it up for you to question him.

From stuffies, to onesies, to excessive blankets from different courts, Azriel had begun purchasing everything in anticipation of his first baby's birth. All while you sat at home. Just silently watching him carry in bag after bag.

Today was a cold winter lazy day. Azriel had asked a favor of Eris, ensuring the hearths in your home burned a little brighter and warmer this year, and the Autumn High Lord was more than happy to ensure you were always warm due to the close friendship you three had formed. You snuggled further into the couch with your hot chocolate, tossing the plush blanket Kallias had sent for you over your legs, and sighed in joy. You had been thinking about this hot chocolate for hours and were practically salivating over the mountain of marshmallows you placed on top had toasted to perfection. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the door opening and Azriel gently knocking the snow off his boots before entering. 

While his shadows greeted you immediately with soft caresses on your swollen belly, Azriel had not even noticed you were there. His cheeks lightly flushed from the cool winter air, his hair ruffled from the wind. 

He was looking down at a large bag in his hands, peeping in it every often before walking to the kitchen and setting it down.

Azriel was smiling to himself, an occasional almost giggle falling from his mouth.  

"Az, what's so funny, baby?" 

Azriel looked at you wide-eyed in getting caught and threw the bag behind his back. "NOTHING!" He said loudly. "Nothing, nothing at all." He corrected, deepening his voice. "Just got our baby bat a present."

You giggled at his admiration, love, and pride he already felt toward your child. He loved them more than anything already. "Well, show me! Please!" 

His cheeks flushed, and he quickly shook his head. "You wouldn't understand. It's something we get to bond over, not you." 

You felt your lip tremble, and his eyes went wide. "I don't mean it like that, my love. I just mean it's something I-" his eyes softened when the first tear fell. "Angel, don't cry." Azriel walked to you with the bag, placing it on the coffee table and then taking your hot chocolate. He paused as he studied the mug. "Did you want some hot chocolate with your marshmallows, y/n?"

You broke a small smile, tears still falling. His scarred hands gently brushed the tears away. "Y/n, please do not cry. It's a special baby daddy gift. That's all."

You knew you were being ridiculous, but hormones were winning. "But-"

Azriel silenced you with a kiss, one of his hands going to your stomach. "I can't wait until you're here and mommy stops crying all the time." He held his hand there, waiting. "Angel, there's no reason to cry."

You nodded, sniffling. "I just want to know what you got them."

Azriel sighed, "You cannot laugh." He was hesitant to remove his hand, but grabbed the bag still. 

Azriel opened it, pulling out a few knitted sets of something that had your brow raised. "Are those?"

"Wing warmers." Azriel confirmed. A soft smile had come back to his face, his dimples showing. "My wings get cold in the winter, and so do Cassian and Rhysand's, so I had these made for them to ensure their little wings would never get cold. I also got Rhys, Cassian, Nyx, and I a matching set for Solstice."

You nodded slowly. Trying not to laugh. "I see." He took in your tight lipped express, the way your eyes were shining, the way your lip twitched. 

"You're laughing." He rolled his eyes and shook his head, a small smile still on his face. "They get really cold, y/n."

"I'm not laughing," you said quickly, hands touching the soft knitted covers, fingers circling the little buttons. "I just didn't realize this was an issue."

Azriel made an insulted face. "It is an issue!" His tone was playful and sarcastic. "Don't you want our baby bat to have the best things? Warm wings are the best things! My little star will not have cold wings. Not on my watch." 

His forehead found yourself as you two fell into laughter. His hand back on your belly. "They match the booties and little hats we had made. The same seamstress made them."

"I noticed. I love her work," you whispered softly to him, hands coming to his face. "You're going to be the best daddy, Azriel. We don't deserve you."

He smiled as a soft kick finally landed on his hand. "No, angel, I don't deserve you." He pushed you back gently, adjusting you so he was laid between your legs on the couch, his head resting near where that last kick was.

"Just keep growing, little one. You gotta grow grow grow." His thumb made small circles on your tummy as he continued to talk to your baby. "Daddy loves you and mommy so much. Even if she doesn't understand cold wings. Which you will never have."

[purpleturtle9000]

*slips a note under your door before bursting through anyways*

Hi sorry I’ll fix that in a minute but please how did each future turtle carry little baby Casey around how did they interact with Infant did any of them ever have to defend teeny tiny Casey during an attack (either Krang or sibling who wanted the baby but they weren’t Done wait your TURN dealers choice)

I assume the turtles did their best to celebrate Casey’s birthdays whenever they could, but is the reverse also true? Did Casey ever try to do something birthday related for the turts during the apocalypse?

Okay that’s all I got for now love you thank you I hope you have a FANTASTIC day *rehangs your door and puts a little star sticker on it*

*the note from earlier is actually a sticker sheet full of baby turtles*

STICKERS

the future turtles an Casey are near and dear to my heart <3

Angelo never had any intention of being a dad because he was busy trying to keep his family together and relatively sane. Fatherhood did not seem like something he could juggle on top of that (and it was obvious from the beginning Leonardo would fight him to the death anyway).

He did like being an uncle! Or aunt, as the day went. And his mystic magic let him entertain Casey easily - Angelo could replicate fireflies and Casey was absolutely entranced with them ever since he was a baby. Angelo could also float Casey around, which neither of them ever got tired of even when Casey was a teenager. Casey was, however, mildly disappointed that he did not have his own magic powers.

When Cass died, it was Angelo who was the only one who knew how to help Casey process his grief. It wasn't the best circumstances for them to bond further, but Casey appreciated every single time that Angelo would get up early or stay up late for him. Losing Angelo broke his heart, poor kid </3

Distractions were a dime a dozen for Angelo, so Casey got handed off to a family member fairly often. But if Angelo wasn't the one initiating the handoff, anyone trying to steal little Casey, was going to end up tied in a corner with mystic chains. He's protective, what can I say?

That also made him a very good protector from the Krang! He was the best at long-range protection, because of his mystic chains, and Casey always thought it was super cool how Angelo could do that. Personality was another bonus - out of all the turtles, Angelo was best at making dangerous situations seem less scary.

Leonardo was a dad from day one. He did not intend to be. Their first meeting is a drabble here. Casey's cape is the sling that Leonardo used to carry baby Jr around in! And Leonardo outlined the red stripes on Casey's mask so Casey could colour them in.

Jr was constantly running away from school, babysitters, etc, so he could go find His Dad and see what he was up to. This caused quite a few problems as he was constantly scaring the shit out of whoever was supposed to be watching him. Eventually they just assigned babysitting duties to Leonardo to skip all the problems.

Leonardo did not mind this at all. Despite their rough beginning, he adjusted to fatherhood easily, and he and Jr are bonded in the same way as Leonardo and Tello. When he lost his arm, he got full-time babysitting duty during recovery, and it helped him settle a little. Plus he got to cuddle Casey the whole time.

Trying to get Casey away from Leonardo was a dangerous business. It involved biting and even some blunt force trauma. Out of the whole entire resistance, Cass and Tello were the only ones who could do it safely. They tried a schedule but Leonardo had no respect for it (Angelo's words) so they just waited until Leonardo fell asleep and sneaked him away.

Were it not for Casey's loyalty to his mom (and eventually his mom's memory), he would have wanted a sword just like his dad. Since he was often found near Leonardo, and Leonardo was one of the best fighters in the resistance, Casey saw a lot of swordfighting! And the occasional twin fight, gotta settle sibling squabbles somehow.

Red would let Casey climb all over her like a jungle gym. As a kid, he was just small enough to fit between the top of her shell and her shoulders, and he would nap there while she was sitting and doing something. Every so often she'd forget he was up there and stand up and then have to catch him. He always thought it was funny and she always found it vaguely nerve-wracking.

Getting Casey away from Red was, technically, the hardest. Casey would climb up to sit on her shoulders and nobody else would be able to reach him up there. He found this extremely funny, especially when it came to Cass who's five-foot-nothing.

I've mentioned this before somewhere, but Red always knew she was going to be the first one to die. She's the family's protector, and that's what happens to protectors. So she let Casey get away with murder and doted on him 24/7 because she wanted him to remember her as a fun aunt.

And he does! When he remembers his aunt, he remembers some of the most fun times of his life, and he remembers always being held and feeling safe. Red couldn't be more delighted. He also remembers being in absolute awe of how Red could punch anything, and hoping he'd grow up to be that tall too (he's getting there).

Tello was Casey's third favourite family member after his parents. They let him do Science Things, which varied from explaining how that cool bug hunted prey, to making a ten-foot-tall baking soda volcano. Tello was always ready to set things on fire or blow them up, which immediately endeared them to a rambunctious little kid who also liked setting things on fire and blowing them up.

Also, Tello lost their legs the year before Casey was born. So by the time Casey was old enough to be interested in cool-looking things, Tello's prosthetics had gone through enough refinements to look pretty damn cool. Casey loved asking questions and hearing about all the details, even if he didn't understand most at first.

His interest in tech began with Tello. When Casey was a baby, and it was time for Tello to babysit, they'd explain their current project to him (y'know, rubber duck debugging?) Casey picked up enough to become interested and Tello was delighted to have an apprentice. It wasn't long before they started teaching him officially. Eventually Jr even learned how to keep all the tech Tello gave him in good order!

Tello had one of those bubble backpacks that you see for cat sometimes, except it was reinforced to stand up to anything, and that was how they carried Casey around when he was a baby. After that, there were Iron Man-style rocket boots (until they ran out of fuel) and Casey had his own transpo drone that could pick him up (until it got smashed by a Krang).

They were also the best protector, because they would bite, kick, and claw at anything that came near their little Junebug. Usually this was some kind of Krang - they were not impressed with how it tasted when they bit down on a tentacle once - but occasionally it was blue thing wanting to cuddle The Boy before they were ready to let go of him.

YES there were apocalypse birthdays. Mikey always had stashes of art supplies on hand, so getting a birthday card from Casey was a staple of things when he was a kid. Angelo kept his in a hatch on his prosthetic shell, Tello kept theirs in their battle shell, and Leonardo kept his in his biggest belt pouch. Casey Cards were universally seen as Very Special.

As Casey got older, and was allowed to go on supply runs, he began bringing home birthday presents. Or the supplies to make birthday presents! He made Tello a weighted turtle plushie, for example, that Tello carried with them everywhere just like the cards. And Casey and Cass have matching letter necklaces.

[reindeer-dad]

❤️: A drabble involving love, but with Noelle and/or Dess? Challenge: No angst! Not even a teeny bit!

Send me a character name & a heart and I’ll write a drabble between my muse and that character centered around the heart’s theme. (Yes, I am still accepting these!)

Clop-clop clop-clop...

Young hooves tapped on the wooden floor of the apartment living room littered with moving boxes. “Got my stuff, Daddy!” December announced, toys piled in her arms up to her little red snout. It was so much, she couldn’t see the floor in front of her...!

“Whoa!” Rudy pulled away from wrapping dishes in bubble wrap after hearing an uncomfortable thump from Dess’s direction. The poor little girl was face-down! The plastic dinosaurs, mini bear plushies, and long-haired ponies once in her hands were scattered everywhere.

It was just a little trip-and-fall, she was okay. Her toys were fine, too. No tears. Dess is a tough girl, after all!

“Careful now, sport,” Rudy helped her up. “No need to haul all your toys into here. Go grab a box and load it up in the room.”

The little doe sprung up as if the fall was nothing but a small inconvenience. “Okay!” The clopping of her hooves staggered as she peered at the tops of the boxes. So many were labeled “MOM.” A couple had “DAD” in giant letters. Naturally, her parents had far more stuff than their daughter had, and spent the evening before packing up the office room.

“Where are all the ‘DESS’ boxes...?”

“You gotta write that yourself. There are some boxes without any names---”

“OOH! CAN I USE THIS ONE?” she chirped as she found just that.

Rudy looked at where Dess was pointing. Sure, there were no names on it. It did, however, have a large heart on top drawn with thick red lines.

“You're right. BUT, that’s a special box.”

“Why’s it special?”

“You put your most priceless items in it. That way, when Asgore helps us carry it into our new home, he’ll be extra-careful, so nothing inside gets damaged.”

“What’s ‘priceless’ mean?”

“Something very, very important. You can’t replace it for a million bucks!" Rudy replied. "Like... that silver watch Mom got from Great-Grandpapa Jolly.”

“Oh...” Dess nodded understandingly. She remembered Mom showing her, and how delicately she placed it in its jewelry box. How she sternly told her daughter to never, ever play with it.

“So, put whatever's precious in there, ‘kay? Your toys can take a beating, they don’t need to be in there!” He chuckled.

Right next to the heart-box was an unlabeled, empty box. “Well, lookie here!” Rudy beamed. “A box, just waitin’ for you to write your name on it!” He placed it in front of Dess.

The doe jumped to the task and brought it into the room. She filled her share of boxes, proudly doing it on her own. She even wrote her name, all by herself... no help needed!

Moving day went off without a hitch! Unpacking took some time, but it was almost done. All but one box remained untouched until the end.

Rudy, Carol, and December decided to sit in their new spacious living room to sort through the special box with the large heart drawn on top of it. They carefully cut open the box. On top of the baby blanket, the photo albums, and the jewelry cases... was a simple white paper.

Curiously, Carol pulled it out of the box. On the opposite side was a colorfully childish drawing of Mommy, Daddy, and Dess. Smiles lifted the Holiday parents’ cheeks as they pulled their daughter close.

“Oh... that’s beautiful, sweetheart.”

“Now THAT’S what I call 'priceless'!”

[jotatetsuken]

I posted 2,515 times in 2022

That's 2,510 more posts than 2021!

889 posts created (35%)

1,626 posts reblogged (65%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 2,301 of my posts in 2022

Only 9% of my posts had no tags

#musings of an extrovert - 575 posts

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Longest Tag: 139 characters

#and able to focus intently on your goals. you fight to overcome obstacles and you don't give up easily. you probably have a mean competitiv

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

singing in the rain

See the full post

153 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

#4

Jotaro Kujo Valentine’s Drabble

Prompts: “I need just one date.” “You think you can woo me with just one date?” “Absolutely.”

Thank you so much @creativepromptsforwriting for these lovely prompts <;3 @creativepromptfills it’s okay to reblog ^_^

Features: Jotaro Kujo x Reader

Scenario: An AU where Joseph, Avdol, Polnareff, Kakyoin, and Jotaro meet the reader in Japan and complete different missions before setting off on their biggest mission in Egypt. Also, Jotaro, Kakyoin, and the reader are adults here (of Polnareff’s age)

Warning: Suggestive scenes (if you're a minor and/or uncomfortable, best to stay away, or block #shyna suggestives :D), mention of injury and loss of blood, Jotaro being a teeny bit of OOC, maybe?

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, lovelies <3 I didn't realize that Jotaro's birthday had an official date according to some websites. Also, he being my current anime boyfriend has gotten me to dream about him in my subconscious. Gaah, I love this guy. Anyway, Happy Valentine's Day and Happy belated birthday, JoJo Baby <33

Number of words: 991 ( lol it was supposed to be a drabble, oh well idc it is a Drabble xD)

Taglist: @saltyvanilla @akaashi-todorki @pencilpoked-heart @tiddieluvr @quirrrky @fuwushiguro @kagejima @ofallthingswhythis

Let me know here if you want to join my tag list for future posts, and also, for suggestions (for AUs, characters as per the character rules) and feedback regarding my writing :D

Song: Harleys in Hawaii by Katy Perry

Joseph turns to Jotaro and me and asks, “Jotaro, (Y/N), what about you guys? How much money do you have with you?” Polnareff taunted us with a smirk, “Yeah, how much do you have? Kakyoin has 85 Singapore Dollars and I have 90.”Jotaro and I smirked back with him replying, “Ah, well, I still have 2000 Singapore Dollars.” I continued, saying, “and I have 3000 Singapore Dollars. So, guess who's going to have dinner in a fancy restaurant now?”

I glance at Jotaro, who nods and lightly chuckles along with me. Polnareff's eyes widen in shock. Avdol drags him along, saying, “Now, now, let them rest. They fought the most, after all.” We laughed as they were walking away, much to their chagrin, and as Jotaro looked in the other direction, Avdol gave a knowing smile and a thumbs up, reminding me as to why I needed to make the most of this.

When Jotaro and I first met through Avdol, our personalities were too opposite for us to understand each other. We'd argue for hours on end, even when we were forced to live as roommates. But, after our first mission together, when we went back to our hotel rooms, it's safe to say that Avdol and Joseph could hear a plethora of moans, groans, and grunts coming from our room.

What started as a way of relieving stress for us, became a means of expressing that we were getting addicted and accustomed to each other's touch, voices, and presence. It definitely seemed like a toxic way of bonding, but with us finding it difficult to get along initially, it definitely seemed like the best way out. However, on the last mission, before we set out to Singapore on our way to Egypt, a sword pierced through my stomach, causing me to lose a lot of blood. I remember before closing my eyes, that Jotaro was the first person to approach me and pick me up.

When I opened my eyes, I realized we were in the hospital, and the operation was successful and I was going to recover in a week. I was in the room with Jotaro beside me and holding my hand. “You’re awake,” he replies with a smile on his face and I noticed his eyes were baggy and the tears had dried off his cheeks. I smile at him and reply softly, “hi.” He approaches me, holds my head, and places a chaste kiss on my lips. When we pull away from the kiss, he tells me, “okay, Ms. (F/N) (L/N), as soon as you get out of the hospital, we’re going on a date okay?”

I was flabbergasted by his response and I said, “I didn’t know Mr. Jotaro Kujo can be open about his feelings. Since when did that happen?” He facepalms and replies, “Yare yare, since I thought I was going to lose you, woman. You scared me.” I chuckle, perch myself up with my elbows and I respond, “Okay then, mister. A date, you say?” He nods in agreement and smiles, “I just need one date.” I raise my eyebrow at him and ask him, “You think you can woo me with one date?” He brings his face closer to mine, kisses my forehead, and replies, “absolutely.”

As Jotaro looked in my direction, he cupped my cheek with one of his hands and asked, “Okay, so (F/N) where do you want to eat?” while caressing my cheek. As a tint of blush appears on my cheeks, I shrugged and replied, “well, there's this steak restaurant 10 minutes away. Want to walk there?” Jotaro smirked and replied, “I have a better idea,” and he pulls me to a corner of the street where there was a Harley Davidson CVO Road Glide in front of us. My mouth opens wide and my eyes widen as I turn to him and ask, “Jotaro, how, how did you get this? When did you get this?” He heaves a sigh and replies, “ah well, I asked the old man for some money,” his eyes looking down on the ground.

I put my arms around him, tilt my head to the left and ask him softly, “Jotaro, what did you tell Joseph?” He takes off his cap and ruffles his hair, replying,“ yare, yare, how does it matter? I told him that I wanted to...” his voice trailing into the air as he looks in another direction so as to hide the tint of blush that appeared on his cheeks, “take you out on a date.” My eyes widen as I look at him and tell him, “oh, it's funny because I was asking Avdol's advice on the same thing,” and I chuckle while slightly biting my bottom lip. Both of us look at each other and laugh. Then he put his cap back up and said, “so both of them are helping us. Do they know?”

I replied with another shrug, “I don’t know. But if that's the case, why don't we make the most of it? We could go to an aquarium, explore it, have a nice dinner at the steak restaurant, and go back to the room and watch a movie. It's Valentine's Day, after all.” Jotaro then clicks his tongue, responding, “The date was supposed to be my idea.” He then picks me up, gives me the helmet, puts me behind him, and sits on the Harley as he replies, “However, I’m glad that you’re alive and with me. That is something I wouldn’t trade for anything in this world.” As I put my helmet and put my arms around my waist, and place my chin on his shoulder, I say with a smile, “Happy Valentine’s Day, JoJo.” He then smiles as he starts the motorcycle, with the biggest smile I think I’ve ever seen, and softly replies, “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby.” I guess he did woo me before our first date began.

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161 notes - Posted February 14, 2022

#3

'tis the damn season

features: hajime iwaizumi x gn!reader (no pronouns used, written in 2nd person)

submission for: @woahsamu’s  “It's Always Been You” Collab  | song: ’tis the damn season - taylor swift | type of writing: oneshot | trope: slice of life, exes to lovers | wc: 2530

summary: when you come back to japan for the holiday season, while walking along the sidewalk enjoying the snow, a chance encounter with your ex reminds you how much you miss and still love him.

content warnings: partial haikyuu timeskip spoilers, suggestive themes, hurt/comfort, talks of the breakup, talks of commitment-phobia, the reader's being called baby, love

beta reading: @mxonigirimiya @portfolio-of-dreams @mrskenmakozume (ily all thank you so much <333) | networks: @hanayanetwork @tokyometronetwork

(taglist form / library account, turn on notifications to be updated) (taglist in next rb)

a/n: when i first chartered my list of fics i was going to write for tumblr, i had a fleeting idea for this song along with iwa, and when the collab came into existence, i knew what i had to do: bring the idea to fruition. taylor swift's one of my favs (y'all know this lol), so it's no surprise that my writing's based on one of her songs. plus, I thought of creating a moodboard instead of the usual banner. also, this is based on a two-year relationship i'd had with my ex in uni before i left for the states and he decided to stay in india and prepare for civil services exam. as always, likes, reblogs, and comments, especially reblogs are appreciated.

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176 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

#2

...That Wears the Crown ( A Royalty AU Collab)

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247 notes - Posted April 10, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Can I request for I want a baby prank with Guren Ichinose??? Ive been dreaming about that guy a lot recently <333

Awww sure thing Ro!!!! Guren's such a dreamy boy <3333 This gif and this website helped me channel my idea with this prompt for this scenario: Them huddled by the fireplace at night after making snow angels in the fresh snow. Oh and since it's been a while since I've watched Owari no Seraph, I'm sorry if this doesn't come out well. Oh and as a bonus, I thought of the song, Sweater Weather while writing this :D Anyway, let’s do thissss!

When we tell Guren Ichinose that we “want a baby”:

Warning: suggestive content <3, minors dni pleaseeee

Shyna's Seiyuu Birthday Celebration

He then brings his hand forward and introduces himself, “I am Guren Ichinose, the lieutenant Colonel of the Japanese Imperial Demon Army. I present to you two options: strive to live a normal life and risk being a target all over again,” then shrugs his shoulders and continue, “or you could join me and we could exterminate them together. You’ll be under my protection, I promise.” You bite your lower lip, pondering about the offer that was just presented to you. You weren’t someone that was into fighting, let alone slapping someone. But, in this cruel world that you were living in, you were needing to stand up for yourself. You then put your hand forward, accepting his offer. “I am (F/N) (L/N). I accept your offer, Lieutenant Guren,” you respond with a smile.

It’d been four years since the day that Guren kept you warm and safe from your vampiric partner, whom you'd run away from. You were working hard to join the Vampire Extermination Unit, but to no avail. It's not that you were weak. Oh, you certainly were not like the person Guren saw then. Lost, frail and having nowhere to go. You'd become stronger and smarter in your own right, being able to wield a sword faster than any of the initial candidates.

You were just too scared that you'd not be able to do your job well. Moreover, there was something that the Army didn't know: you'd begun a four year tryst with Guren. When you two weren't busy completing missions, both of you would find excuses to go to secluded places and immerse yourselves in each other.

From making out to lovemaking to doing it rough, you'd done it all. Every touch, every breath, every heartbeat. You'd made yourselves known to each other intimately.

You'd even decided to go on a couple of dates together, either by the vending machines or parks or by the fountains. His playful nature wasn't hidden from you, and he even had one of the best smiles in the entire regiment. He was also someone that valued teamwork and was strategic in his approach. It was official, you were becoming giddy over him.

But while you were slowly able to let your walls crumble down, Guren however, kept stuff to himself. While he was able to slowly reveal his past, you felt that he wasn't revealing enough. So, you came up with an idea.

You'd just come back from the hospital, where one of your friends had just given birth to a baby girl, where you'd warned your friend to run to a city that wasn't occupied by vampires yet, and promised her that you'd bring them back home safely. You'd then come outside your apartment to find Guren cladding thicker jackets on top of his uniform. He said, “Babe, let's go, it's cold outside,” with a big smile on his face. Taking you by your hand, he drags you outside into the snow, where both of you feel the chilly breeze hitting your face. Suddenly, you felt a ball of snow hitting your neck and you turn to see Guren throwing snowballs at you. You two have a good time together, chasing each other, frolicking in the snow, and making snow angels.

Later, you two come back to your apartment, take a huge blanket, sit on the couch and huddle by the fireplace. Snuggling up to him, you softly tell him with a smile, “Guren, I want a baby.”

His eyes widen in surprise as he didn't expect in the wildest of dreams for you to blurt it out. You suddenly hear his pacing heartbeat, and the moment you look into his purple eyes, he strokes your cheeks with his cold hand, asking you with a voice that seemed as calm as ever, “Are you sure that you want a baby?” You respond by nodding in agreement. You started to observe Guren even more.

“I'll think about it, okay? It's just, it's just...” You tried to complete his sentence for him, by saying, “A lot to ask for?” when he replied, “No, it's just that I've been wanting this too...” Your eyes widen in shock, “Wait, what? I thought...” He puts a finger on your lips and reply, “You thought I didn't want a baby, right? Truth be told, I wanted us to wait it out until this apocalypse is done with, because I'm scared of losing you the way I lost my family.” Your breathing hitched in your throat, with realization slowly hitting you. He's right. The war isn't over, not yet away. You nervously chuckle, “Alright, alright, chill! I was just messing around!” However, Guren's focus didn't move away from yours as he picks you up, off the blanket, from the couch in a bridal fashion. You flail your arms and legs as you protest, “Guren, babe, no....” That is when he places you on the bed, gently, as he comes on top of you and whispers, “Your wish is my command, baby....”

Finally omg! This took me a while, but I hope you enjoy it Ro! :D:D:D

265 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ceo-of-daichi]

I posted 1,899 times in 2022

506 posts created (27%)

1,393 posts reblogged (73%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@ceo-of-daichi

@mrskodzuken

@bucky-barnes-diaries

@mintmatcha

@kagejima

I tagged 1,884 of my posts in 2022

Only 1% of my posts had no tags

#lydz speaks - 489 posts

#sawamuras big schlong hoes🤩 - 272 posts

#the loml - 191 posts

#daichi owns my whole ass heart - 188 posts

#my literal husband - 186 posts

#my baby🥺 - 181 posts

#moots i adore✨ - 173 posts

#lydz recs🍒. art - 168 posts

#god i am in love with sawamura daichi - 128 posts

#daichi - 112 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#like… we are all brainwashed into thinking because we look a certain way we deserve more than other people or deserve less than other people

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

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293 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

#4

Long heavy make out sessions with Daichi.

Desperate touches and clashing of teeth when he turns the more delicate kisses passionate.

His tongue rubbing against yours as he fights to taste as much of your mouth as physically possible, while you are doing the same.

Even when you both break for a breath you share the same air for that small moment, not wanting to move any further away.

Getting so lost in the moment that suddenly his weight is on you, his crotch grinding down so beautifully against your own.

Small moans and whines against his lips which only egg him on until he physically can’t take it any longer. He needs more.

Heavy make out sessions that lead to soft, desperate sex with Daichi.

As if you both went any longer you would perish without it, both so eager to feel the other.

Its hot, heavy and loud, he’s so loud when he’s this desperate. When he’s deprived himself for long enough that he cums quicker than usual, the groan that leaves his lips almost causes you to fall down after him.

But he couldn’t stop himself, just like he can’t stop apologising for how quickly he came, his fingers rubbing rhythmic circles on your clit and his mouth now attached to your chest.

By the time you are both done, you collapse in each others arms.

Soft reassuring words whispered between lovers, promises of forever and gentle touches are what follows.

You always wanted nights to start and end with Daichi.

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375 notes - Posted May 21, 2022

#3

I’m feeling v v soft for Ushijima 🥺🥺 I know he’s no Daichi, but imagine him rolling over in the middle of the night, pulling you close to his chest for snuggles and giving little kissies while you sleep 🥺🥺🥺

❥Pairing | Ushijima Wakatoshi x GN!Reader

❥WC | 200+

❥A/N | Just a lil something something for Ushi😉 Hope you like this? I thought it was a super sweet concept! I actually really enjoy writing stuff for Ushi honestly🥺 (even though I agree he’s no daichi🙃) Once again I wrote this at work so its not proof read!!

Tip-Jar☕️ | Navi | Drabble Masterlist

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409 notes - Posted July 5, 2022

#2

I just know theres a rumour at the police station that Daichi has a big dick.

He gives off massive bde and everyone is practically begging him to fuck them at that point regardless.

But Daichi always declines, all pursuits that were sent his way often ended after one date, that he definitely went on just to be polite.

And therefore the rumour was never proven to be true or the opposite.

Its only when he strikes up interest in you that its finally revealed.

Okay so maybe you did start the rumour because you had a teeny tiny huge crush on him.

But you never expected it to come bite you in the ass…

The first time he fucks you, its gentle and sweet at first but Daichi can’t help himself when he see’s your cute little cunt trying to swallow his girth.

“I know you started them rumours babygirl… you think I don’t see you eyeing me up every time I walk past huh?” He cooed down at you, your face already fucked out, a small droplet of drool peaking out the corner of your parted mouth.

“Am I living up to all you thought me to be?” He smirked, purely teasing. Truth is, he loved how much you stared, how you didn’t try to hide it.

He had sported a crush for quite a while as well, although he had managed to keep it under wraps.

So once he had teased you a bit, he went back to his gentle, all loving self. Bringing you to orgasm multiple times, making you were truly spent before he couldn’t edge himself any longer.

And you finally confirmed the rumours to your coworkers, because despite refusing to say anything. The way you limped in may or may not have given it away..

It was the first time he fucked you that you realised that Daichi doesn’t just fuck… its probably why he never accepted other peoples offers.

He gave his whole heart and soul, he didn’t just fuck… he made love.

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419 notes - Posted June 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Just letting you all know that sleepy Daichi is a menace.

When he’s still in the haze of morning, his eyes barely open, his body still in the lul of sleep. His arms around his favourite teddy bear, you. Its a perfect place, he longs to be in this moment forever-

Yet you decide to move.

His hold on you gets tighter as you attempt to wriggle away from him to get ready for work.

“Just 5 more minutes~” Daichi whispers softly, the gruff of his voice easy to hear over the silence of the morning.

And how can you say no to him? So you agree, five more minutes in the morning bliss.

“Maybe you should just call in sick…” He whispers again as you settle back in beside him, placing a delicate kiss just below your ear.

This causes you to laugh softly, for him you would do just about anything.

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1,336 notes - Posted October 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[imherebecauseyourehere]

𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙵𝚄𝙻 𝙰𝚂𝙺 𝙼𝙴𝙼𝙴  OPEN/ACCEPTING ON SINDAY ONLY

acherys said:  Tristia, herd conformity, counterproductive pride.            

TRISTITIA - A time my muse was overcome with needless self-pity. 

💫—There’s no room in his vernacular for self-pity. He was a force of momentum from the beginning, on. He confessed to profound shame at having to beg for opportunities to avenge his pride after being defeated by a race that was reported to be “inferior” to his kind. He considered his position as the sole survivor of so many battles to be a wretched thing, and permitted no excuse or distraction to divide his attention from proving the worth of either himself, or the Human race. ...the latter being a staggering possibility, based on everything he was taught to believe. But he never pitied himself.

  He had no pity for himself, when Adiane lashed out at him in rebuke for his audacity to survive when Thymilph had not. Critically wounded and barely fit to stand, he endured the waves of her unbridled ire as he understood that she acted from a state of incurable grief. A grief that he would know, too. Even after, he took responsibility for his Generals’ deaths, and embraced every opportunity that he could sink his claws into, that would teach, strengthen, or prove his merit, somehow.  

Self-pity is for those who are content to sit still. That's just not the type of being that Viral is.

HERD CONFORMITY - A time my muse followed orders without question.

💫—As he proclaimed, he was the Commander of the Far Eastern Division of the Human Eradication Army -- and following orders was the meat and potatoes of the job. Viral was a resolute, energetic soldier who relished in his achievements. He had a customized Ganmen of a very advanced and unique design, and he quite flaunted his combat prowess. Viral was dedicated to his leaders and his place within the Beastman regime. There weren’t many he took orders from, essentially the Supreme Generals and the Spiral King, himself - but Viral did not question those few in the slightest.

  ...until Kamina showed up on the surface one day, and threw his entire reality ass-over-end. Viral made a good effort to keep chasing the values and beliefs instilled into him from his origins - forward, but eventually... the time would come when he would not only disobey his leader -- but he outright questioned the Spiral King, too, to the man’s face. Absolute madness.  

COUNTERPRODUCTIVE PRIDE - A time my muse held themselves back for the sake of keeping an image.

💫— Being arrested in the middle of a wasteland desert was not exactly a plan. But he’d run amok as long as he could, protecting the Human lives below the surface, who feared and hated the idea of being forced to live under another tyrannical watch.

   Viral hadn’t forgotten the weight of the Spiral King’s throne upon the capital city, and though the Humans had taken Teppelin for their own, renamed and rebranded it, it seemed that the soil itself only knew tyranny - so all that could grow from it was oppression.

   Enki slept at last, lost somewhere between earth and an unending sky. He hoped it would be a restful place, beneath sand, lost to time, where no one could harvest his worn and weary metal bones for any more war. 

  The ugly irony of Human law was made even uglier by the death sentence crowned upon his head, in the form of steel restraints around his wrists. A brow, as pale as the arid view, lifted like a criminal in a noose, left to hang there by the neck in query.

                       “’Ohhh? Sentenced to death? How do you plan to do that?” 

   They hadn’t really figured it out. It was foolishness on every part. On his, for a rebellion that he knew wouldn’t survive the adamant willpower of Human civilization; and it was foolishness on their part, for believing that some words on a page meant a single damn thing outside of their safe little boxes, constructed from the purloined carcasses of his old reality.

   The restraints around his wrists were laughable; the bars on his cage (they called it “jail”, and Viral thought that the Spiral King’s executions were more merciful than this.) would be malleable in his hands. And the Human children who had incarcerated him (cubs, at most; he’d first seen them with Kamina and the others) were too young to be in charge of other lives -- did they even comprehend their own?

     But Viral didn’t test any of it. Any of them. He had made his point to Simon, through a brief, holographic exchange. And for the time being, he would wait. He didn’t really know what the next step ought to be -- only that it was sick at the roots, all around him, too familiar for him to feel the end of the Spiral King’s reign. He wasn’t an enemy to the Human race. He wasn’t an ally to all Beastmen. There was a light that he was looking for, and he didn’t care what form it took - what shape it belonged to. ...only that it would feel like it was truly alive, and this time -- even with hands as stained and vicious as his, he would protect it. 

[catgirlforkaeya]

rain

kaeya x gn!reader

fluff + teeny tiny bit of hurt/comfort // modern au

warnings: all lowercase + not proofread + mentions of insomnia

a/n: aahsjaksahaja i cannot sleep so take this short drabble i thought of based off of one of those tiktok scenario thingies

you heard a faint sound— the sound of rain pattering against your bedroom window. at first it was distant and was just a background noise in your dreams, but it eventually grew louder and louder. loud enough to the point it woke you up from your slumber.

with a small groan you reached over to your night stand, grabbing your phone. you tapped the screen, suddenly being blinded by the brightness of your lockscreen. squinting your tired eyes, you read the numbers “3:26am”. you set your phone back down, letting out another frustrated sigh. you hated when you woke up in the middle of the night. you usually took awhile to fall back asleep.

“mm- rain wake you up love?” you heard a raspy voice speak from behind you. you felt his grip on you tighten, pulling you closer towards him.

you’d completely forgotten that kaeya had stayed the night. you both were exhausted from a long day of college classes, so when he came over in the late evening it didn’t take long for you two to end up in your bedroom to sleep.

you shifted around so that you were now facing him. you were greeted with a tired smirk, his periwinkle eye slightly twinkling from what little light was coming in through the window. his hair was a mess— part of it was draped over his shoulder while the other part was sprawled across the pillow.

“yeah,” you mumbled, taking a strand of his hair and twirling it around your index finger. “did it wake you up too?”

“no. i woke up not too long after we went to bed and haven’t been able to sleep since. just another one of those nights i guess,” kaeya responded. even though he tried to pull it off that he was fine you could tell he wasn’t.

kaeya has always struggled with sleep. ever since the early stages of your relationship you’ve noticed that he suffers from insomnia. he tried his best to hide it from you so you wouldn’t worry, but you picked up on it quickly. once you confronted him about it he opened up. he told you how he has frequent nightmares that prevent him from sleeping most nights— and other nights it’s thoughts that keep him awake or he just simply can’t sleep for absolutely no reason. since that day he’s been very open to you about it now.

“bub you didn’t have to lay there staring at the ceiling, you could’ve turned on the tv or something,” you looked at him with worried eyes. you brought your hand up to his face, rubbing your thumb over his cheekbone softly.

“it’s fine— i didn’t want to wake you,” he leaned into your touch a little, closing his eyes shut for a few seconds.

“i wouldn’t have cared. plus i’m awake now so it doesn’t really matter,” you gave a weak smile, before turning over for a second. you grabbed the remote off of your nightstand, pointing it at the tv and hitting the on button. you put it on a channel that you two usually watch. afterwards you gave the remote to kaeya in case he wanted to change it.

the two of you laid there for awhile watching the tv. you had your head resting against kaeya’s chest while he rested his chin on top of your head. he rubbed small circles into your side with both his thumbs. to be honest you weren’t really paying attention to what was playing, you were just focused on kaeya.

eventually your eyelids began to grow heavy again. it didn’t take long for you to get to the point where you could barely keep them open. you nuzzled your head into your boyfriend’s chest to block out the glow from the tv in front of you.

“i love you darling, now go back to sleep,” kaeya mumbled, placing a small kiss to the top of your head.

you looked up at him for a second, giving him a few kisses on the jawline and then the lips. “i love you more. please try and sleep also.”

within a few minutes you were back asleep, laying peacefully in kaeya’s arms. his fingers ran up and down your spine slowly while humming a very soft tune.

shockingly he also fell asleep not long after you. sometimes all it takes is him hearing you say that you love him to ease his thoughts for the night.

so now here you two were, bodies pressed close together while you were deep in slumber. the only thing that could be heard was the tv and the rain pattering against the window even harder than before.

this moment would be etched into your brain forever. it was a small moment, but sometimes the smallest things can feel the biggest.

© all rights reserved to catgirlforkaeya. reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

[vicious-vixxxen]

Hi, first of all ur work is amazing and awesome, especially the Kiri fics they make me feel so warm inside :)) ANYWAYS I have a drabble idea: Katsuki with a flirty male reader from 1-B that likes to tease him and make him flustered and fired up as much as possible (kinda like Monoma but not as aggressive) and finally Katsuki decides that it’s reader’s turn to get all flustered and blushing and all that hehe :)

AH I absolutely LOVE this idea! Sorry it took me so long to get to it babes, but I hope you enjoy it :3 <3 Bakugou Katsuki X Flirty Male!Reader

“You think /you’re/ tired? I heard class A had to go through ten times the beasts we did yesterday, /and/ they didn’t get to camp until five.” TetsuTetsu huffed, rolling his eyes as he continued to rub at his sore biceps- falling behind as the class walked to their first official day of training. “They’re probably still struggling to work as an actual unit, how disappointing,” Monoma drawled, flinching as Kendo raised a hand at him in warning- her gaze cutting back to you with an apologetic smile, but you shrugged her off. “I’m just saying, if they were half as good as everyone assumes they are, then we wouldn’t have had to make dinner for everyone /alone/ yesterday. A bunch of unimpressive slackers, the fame is definitely getting to them.” “Oh give it a rest, Monoma! I swear if I have to keep listening to your incessant whining i’m going to roundhouse you so hard you slip into an alternate dimension,” You teased, though the sharpness of your tone, and the look you fixed the other boy with managed to reduce him to nothing more than some bitter grumbling, as you jogged ahead to follow directly behind Vlad-Sensei.

“Young Y/N is right! No use in comparing yourself to a separately tiered class, what you all should be doing is preparing yourselves for a day full of grueling training!” Vlad called out to the class behind him, as they came to their final stop. Looking out across the vast fields of the camp, where class 1A was already deep in training. All of them spread out to various areas of the site, some farther out than others, you assumed due to the volatile nature of their quirks. Some out of site all together, given the specificity needed to train their quirks. “The Wild Wild Pussycats have strict regimens for you all to follow, and I as well have critiques for you all regarding your fighting style, and quirk application. Check in with them across the field first, and regroup back to me so we can begin!” “Yes Sensei!” You all chanted back, before hurrying off across the field to do as you were told. Though once you caught sight of- and really, it was more his blood curdling death screams that you noticed first, music to your ears honestly- unruly blonde spikes off in the distance, you reasoned you had at least a few minutes to spare. Giving your classmates time to get their schedules and regimes before you could swoop in for yours last minute. The heat from Bakugou’s blasts was intense- your hair blowing back each time the other boy extended his palms to the sky, screamed, and released an explosion. The air felt thick, the scent of sweaty flesh, and deep, rich caramel wafting against your face, heady, and thick, with each blast. It was intoxicating. The closer you got, the more your cheeks flushed- though it had nothing to do with the heat anymore. Up close, or as close as you could get without being blown back entirely, that is- the more handsome Bakugou became. Pinched, angry expression and all. His front fringe of hair hanging low on his forehead, dripping sweat down onto his cheeks, and then onto the exposed upper half of his chest, bared due to his low rising tank top. When was Bakugou not absolutely breathtaking, you wondered idly, as you reached into your backpack for a bottle of water, and whistled loudly between blasts to catch the blonde's attention. Though the glare he fixed you with as your eyes met almost, almost deterred you from closing the distance between you both, it didn’t quite reach the innermost parts of your brain, meant for rational thought. “What the hell do you want!? Can’t you see i’m busy? Take your ass back to your class, extra!” Bakugou shouted, gaze falling to the bottle of water in your hand, before he focused back in on his task, baring his teeth in pain as the boiling water engulfed his hands. But you were too close now, it was too risky, and before you could think to back away on your own, Bakugou was crowding up against you. Spinning around on his heels and blasting in the opposite direction, back to you now. Shoving you backwards so hard with his own body you fell to the ground. Hissing as you landed on a particularly sharp rock. “See what you did?! I could’ve accidentally taken someone else out because of you! Fucking...gimme that,” Bakugou growled, shaking his hands of the smoke from his blast, before bending down to snatch the chilled bottle of water from your hand with one of his- his other reaching down to take hold of the front of your shirt, and tug you back up to stand next to him. “Always in my way!” Bakugou hissed, before throwing his head back and chugging down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. Wiping at his mouth roughly, he turned to you slightly, noting the mischievous smile on your face, and the dirt on your shorts. “Tch...what?” He asked, knowing he was walking himself right into a trap. “Just admiring the view,” You sing-songed, skirting around his sudden extended fist easily, and dancing around the boy to get a good look at his training clothes. “It’s not everyday I get to see UA’s own Bakugou Katsuki in the midst of an intense training session. All sweaty, and bulking- muscles just….grr,” You laughed, holding your hands up in front of your face as you growled and made pawing motions at the other boy- bursting into a fit of laughter ass he reeled back, blush high on his cheeks, fingers twitching with the urge to blas your fucking face off. “You’re an insufferable piece of!-” “What I can’t seem to wrap my head around, is how you have such a big chest, such defined shoulders, and such a teeny, tiny waist,” You sighed, cutting Bakugou off with your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side curiously as you scanned him up and down. “Your tits are bigger than most of the girls in your class, ya know,” You added, as if an afterthought, waving a hand passively at the thought, though you couldn’t help but grin as Bakugou charged you- dragging you up by the front of your shirt again, and pinning you to the barrel of boiling water. One hand holding your head down near the bubbling surface, and one right next to your ear, sparking with unlit nitroglycerin. “I. Don’t. Have. Tits. You. Shitty. Extra.” Each word was laced with venom, husky and full of rage right next to your ear, and god. Was it fucked up you were kind of turned on? Probably. About as fucked up as it was to be genuinely attracted to Bakugou in the first place, you supposed. Oh well. Not much to be done about it now. “Say that to the mounds pressing up against my back right now, babe,” You teased, turning your head to face Bakugou, your noses barely brushing as you leaned in as best you could, given the hand in your hair- mouth curling into a knowing smirk as Bakugou’s face twisted back and forth- confusion, rage, annoyance, misunderstanding...want. “I’m sure your teacher would be thrilled to see you over here keeping one of my students from his training, instead of focusing on your own abilities,” Someone sighed from your right, and both you and Bakugou’s head whipped up to see Aizawa leaning against a tree, staring at the both of you with the most bored expression you could imagine someone having. “Tried to get the loser away from me, but he’s as persistent as the rest of his annoying class,” Bakugou huffed, letting you go, but not before pushing you in the direction of his teacher roughly- crackling his knuckles out in front of himself, and shaking his hands out. Prepared to continue his training. Though thoughts of your stupid face, so close to his- scent of your shampoo, and minty breath still searing his nose made him a trillion times more annoyed then he’d already been. The color of your eyes stuck with him the most though. So clear. So shiny. Full of authority, of mirth, and something so...gut wrenchingly /cute/, he couldn’t stand it. “Sorry, EraserHead. Didn’t mean to disturb your student. Was just being friendly is all,” You assured the older Hero, hands up in surrender as you walked alongside side him, and back to regroup with your class- smiling smugly to yourself when you noticed the barest hint of a smirk on Eraserheads face, just before he turned away and skulked off to whatever dark, cozy corner he had been observing his students from.

Training felt like it had lasted forever, and then some. The following days were no easier. Your bodies were pushed to their limits, and then thrown off the metaphorical cliff afterwards. Every day, class A and B were sore, tired, irritable. But even then, once lunch, and dinner came around, it offered you all a chance to get to know one another more intimately. You talked, and mingled with class 1A- flirting with Todoroki for fun, and picking Midoriya’s brain about his hero notebook- unaware of the red eyes following your every move amongst the classmates. Your flirting with Bakugou was at an all time high- given you could usually spare a handful of minutes each day teasing the young man, whether it be with words during training, lingering touches, or brushes of hands, and legs during dinner, or with outright winks, and kisses blown to the blonde as you all departed to your cabins for the night. It infuriated Bakugou to no end. Your presence. The way he acted out against you...his mother would suggest he needed an attitude adjustment, and that he should allow the fun part of camp to take precedent over his ultimate number one hero goal. As if he’d ever. But still, her frustrated words of encouragement never ceased to ease up as the days went by, and you became bolder with your flirting. Bakugou felt on edge constantly, like someone was going to crack a whip at him at any moment. Say something about it, say something about /him/, but no one ever did. Probably because they were scared. His only saving grace, he supposed. Being intimidating. Though he didn’t intimidate /you/, which was the part he hated the most. ...He’d just have to switch up his tactics, then. His mother would be proud. God, he hated that. After a particularly grueling day of training, everyone was running on fumes, more or less, as they shuffled around the outdoor kitchen, prepping dinner lazily. Monoma picking stupid fights with whoever he came across first, as though he were too tired to even do that. You’d been chatting quietly to Mina and Jirou about some of your favorite albums, when a whistle from across the counters had all three of you lifting your heads. Curiosity piqued to the fullest extent, as your gaze landed on Bakugou- pointing at you with a hard expression, before gesturing to the spot next to him at the cutting board station. His eyes downcast again before you could even register what was going on, before hurrying to head over before whatever demon that had possessed Bakugou, decided to get the fuck out of such a toxic human host. Beaming, you came to stand at Bakugou’s side, arms brushing against each other as you glanced down at the finely minced veggies the boy was working on. “You rang?” Brows raised in question, you ducked your head to try and catch the boy’s eyes again- stopping dead in your tracks as he grabbed a hold of your wrist tightly, and slid a knife between your fingers. Tugging you impossibly closer to his side, and reaching an arm around you to grab a stray carrot. Boxing you into the bench, and maneuvering your fingers carefully as he began to force you to chop the carrot below. His front was flush with your back, and suddenly you couldn’t breath. Breath hitched in your throat, flush high on your cheeks, as Bakugou bent down, face right next to yours, as he forced you to chop, knife always skirting a little /too/ close to your fingertips, but fuck it all if you weren’t willing to lose them for this encounter to continue. “All this time and you haven’t even learned to chop properly. Make yourself more useful, you shitty extra,” He grunted, right into your ear. A sharp shock of arousal shooting down your spine as he spoke, looking away suddenly as Bakugou turned to try and meet your gaze. “Eh? What’s the problem, extra? Cat got your fucking tongue?’ He teased, harshly, though his grasp on your hands lessened, and fuck you were gonna pass out if you didn’t start breathing soon. “Oh,” He huffed suddenly, snickering under his breath, as he crowded you in up against the bench entirely, completely flush with your back, before his lips ghosted the shelf of your ear, and he whispered “-probably because of my big tits, huh? Tch.” And then he was gone. Gone from your back, gone from the shell of your ear, gone from giving you a religious fucking experience, and thankfully gone from nearly making you jizz your jeans in front of the entireety of class A and B. Your hands shook where they now held the knife solo, and you glanced over your shoulder- watching Bakugou stuff his hands in his pockets, arch his shoulders, and stalk off to the cabins. Though not before you also caught the sharp, devilish smirk that twisted up on his face. What a fucking DICK. But a dick who was handsome as fuck, and knew exactly what he was doing. “Alright, Bakugou, you wanna play, big boy?” You whispered to yourself, voice shaky as you continued chopping vegetables. “I’ll bite. Show you how it’s done...right after I pass out, Jesus fucking Chri-” 

[jungshookz]

teeny tidbits: three years later and yoongi is still very much in love with y/n

according to my period tracking app i’m due in four days so that explains why i felt the sudden urge to sit down and write this 

also i had to go back and read the wedding drabble to double-check a minor detail and.,,.., barfs i am so sorry for all of the ceo!drabbles the writing is so tragic 

i hope u enjoy this small product of my sappiness <3 

➺ pairing; ceo!yoongi x y/n  

➺ genre; idk just very sappy and gooey and if ur a ceo!couple stan ur going to love this 

➺ wordcount; 1.4k

                                        »»————-　💞　————-««

the first thing yoongi finds especially odd when he steps into the penthouse is the fact that it’s a little too quiet for his liking

he purses his lips as he shuts the door behind him, blindly turning the lock with a quiet click as he looks around

sure, it’s almost midnight, but you’re usually tinkering around in the kitchen for a snack or watching netflix on the couch whenever he comes home late... so where are you now? 

he’s about to call out for you when he suddenly remembers that hwayoung’s definitely fast asleep by this hour and that you’d murder him in cold blood if he accidentally woke her up and ruined her sleeping schedule (she gets very grouchy when she’s not following a set schedule - and yoongi knows her sour morning attitude was probably inherited from him but he sleeps more peacefully at night thinking that it’s because of one of your genes) 

yoongi places his keys on the top of the shoe cabinet quietly before reaching down to yank his laces loose

“woah.” he holds his hands out to keep himself steady after he stands up too quickly and his head starts to spin and he starts to see double 

oof 

maybe he should’ve slowed down with the wine at dinner

it’s not his fault he’s so weak for a good red!

“shower time, showah time…” yoongi murmurs to himself as he makes his way up the spiral staircase, gripping onto the railings tightly so that he doesn’t slip on his way up, “would you like to join me? wanna come with? lemme soap you up, girl-” he slurs, smiling cheekily to himself at the possibility of being able to run his hands all over your body in a few short minutes

he gives himself a high five when he makes it to the top of the staircase successfully, wobbling for a split second before nodding to himself and giving himself a mental pat on the back  

B-)

nice

the warm light coming from the crack in the door leaks into the hallway and yoongi shuffles towards it like a moth towards a flame, reaching up to fumble at his tie with boneless fingers-

oh

yoongi immediately freezes once he reaches the door, his heart skipping a beat in his chest when he catches a glimpse of you wearing your wedding dress through the crack

he watches curiously as you smooth your hand over the neckline before turning from side to side to look at yourself in the mirror

he wasn’t expecting to see this when he came up here but he’s definitely not complaining 

yoongi presses his hand against the door frame to keep himself from accidentally stumbling in and scaring you and ruining what seems to be a private moment 

it’s just that seeing you in your dress again is triggering a sudden flood of memories of your guys’ wedding day into his mind and it’s making his heart feel all funny (it’s actually just heartburn from the wagyu steak he wolfed down earlier) 

the corners of yoongi’s mouth immediately raise in a fond smile at the recollection of you staring up at him with so much love in your eyes as he slid the silver ring onto your finger 

it was a beautiful ceremony

the food was great

the champagne was fabulous

the after-party was super fun 

the after-after party where it was just you and him alone was definitely fun as well 

he can still recall the scent of you all over him when he woke up the next morning 

and obviously the honeymoon was great - who doesn’t like paris?! 

not to mention, you still look just as beautiful as you did on the day the two of you said i do

maybe it’s just because the alcohol is making him feel all goopy inside but he wants to be a part of whatever moment you’re having!!! 

“i’m pretty sure it’s bad luck for me to see you in your wedding dress before the wedding, darling.” yoongi pushes the door open with a creak and takes his bottom lip in between his teeth to keep himself from smiling too widely, “want me to close my eyes?”

“yoongi!” you gasp, pulling your veil up and over your head as you spin around quickly, “god, i don’t understand how your footsteps are so quiet- i really think i should put a bell on you or something-”

“what are you doing?” yoongi interrupts, tilting his head curiously as he offers you a soft smile, “hopefully not wearing your dress so you can run off and marry someone else.”

“no, obviously not-” you snort, rolling your eyes and shaking your head, “i was doing some cleaning earlier and i found the box and… i don’t know, i wanted to see if i could still fit into it and… well-” you sigh, turning back around to look at yourself in the mirror before flopping your arms down in defeat, “it doesn’t zip all the way up anymore.”

“to be fair, you’ve given birth to a child since our wedding.” yoongi raises a brow, glancing down at the zipper that’s stuck halfway up your back, “even if you didn’t fit into it at all it would still be totally fine-”

“yeah, but i had to suck in a lot just to get the stupid zipper up halfway-!” you whine quietly, pouting at yourself in the mirror before gesturing to your chest, “one sneeze and my boobs are going to pop out-”

“i wouldn’t be opposed to that-”

“you know, maybe i should’ve had spanx embedded into the dress instead of it being 100% silk because silk is not a very forgiving material-”

“oh, baby…” yoongi chuckles, slinking his arms around you from behind before leaning down to prop his chin up on your shoulder, “don’t be so hard on yourself! your body literally made a human being- forgive it if it can’t fit into a dress from, like, three years ago…”

“i guess…” you trail off, leaning back a little to rest your head against yoongi’s as you continue looking at yourself in the mirror with a pitiful little frown on your face, “it’s just hard to feel beautiful when i can’t fit into most of my old clothes…”

“hey, you cut that out right now.” the smile immediately drops from yoongi’s face and he frowns at you in the mirror disapprovingly, “so what if you can’t fit into the dress anymore? you’re beautiful and like, really hot and- and even after all this time i’m still super head-over-heels in love with you and you could be wearing a potato sack and i would still think you were the most beautiful woman to ever walk the planet and- and i love y-” 

“alright, you drunk, i get it.” you giggle lightly, reaching up to pat the side of yoongi’s warm face, “i love you more.”

“good.” yoongi smiles contently when it seems like you’ve cheered up a little from his (very good and extremely persuasive, in his opinion) pep talk, “love you most.” he murmurs, turning to press a kiss to your palm

“mhm. you reek of wine, by the way-” you wrinkle your nose playfully, letting yoongi sway you back and forth gently before reaching down to pat at his hand, “i think we should get you into the shower and then into bed.”

“i think we should get we into the shower and then into bed.” yoongi corrects you, pausing for a second to think over his words, “yeah. that makes sense.”

…,..,we should get we into the shower and then into bed…..,,.

that totally makes sense

you know what he means 

“i’m only joining you so that you don’t pass out halfway through and end up falling asleep against the wall like you did last time.” you remind him, though it’s obvious he’s hardly paying attention to what you’re saying because he’s too busy nipping at the side of your neck  

“mm. hey, you know what the best part is about the zipper not going all the way up?” yoongi grins, one of his arms sliding back from your waist so he can reach for the zipper, “it makes it much easier for me to get you out of this dress.”

🎙️help me help you make your wishes come true (send me a request!)

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here? (full fics!) 

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read? (drabbles!)

🌟or something even shorter? (teeny tidbits!) 

[solarwonux]

6. “Feel free to admire me.”

19.  “Give me a kiss please.”

non!idol taehyung x f!reader

warnings:  angst if you squint, slight mentions of going crazy, a teeny tiny bit suggestive, minimal editing, 

note: helloooo, thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy this one, and if it’s bad I apologize from the bottom of my heart, it’s my first time writing anything but academic papers in like 3 months. And it’s my first time writing for bts, so i’m dusting off the cobwebs. Either way thank you for reading it means the world to me.xx

masterlist || drabble game 

You were acting strange

Taehyung noted as he watched you scramble around the apartment, running a frustrated hand through your hair, mumbling underneath your breath as you tore the apartment apart looking for your glasses.

You had been doing that a lot. Living up in the clouds, distracted. Your mind racing to the point you would forget what you were saying mid-sentence or misplacing things you had just been using in obvious places. He knew something was bothering you, keeping you from grounding yourself back down to Earth, and he so badly wanted to know. But after almost being together for almost a decade he knew that asking you what was happening would only frustrate you and keep you from coming back down to Earth. To him.

So he sat back, a small smiling forming against his face. He cradled his almost empty wine glass between his index and middle fingers, the setting sun reflecting off your glasses on the coffee table. The same place you had left them earlier before walking to the bathroom to wash your face. He could tell you, to stop your endless pacing and ease your mind a little. But he was oddly amused as you made your way around the living room, retracing your steps, endlessly.

The movie the two of you had been watching, paused. The wine bottle you had refused to share with him was reaching its wilts end as he kept refilling it every time you sat down next to him silently looking around for a few minutes and then getting up again to make your way around the living for the umpteenth time.

“I’m going crazy Tae.” You blew out a raspberry, blowing away the few strands of hair that had escaped your ponytail. “How can my glasses just disappear, I was literally just wearing them.” You threw your hands up in the air as you made your way into the kitchen. Lifting up the stacks of manila folders you had brought home from work to peacefully look over throughout the long weekend.

“Have you checked the bathroom?” He said, hiding his smirk behind his glass of wine taking the last sip. You scoffed, throwing your arms up in the air before walking down the hallway to the bathroom.

Taehyung shook his head reaching for the wine bottle on the coffee table. “Your eyesight isn’t even that bad, you don’t need your glasses to watch the movie.” He said emptying the rest of the wine into his glass and sat back on the couch, tilting his head to the side as you stomped your way back into the living room.

You gave him a pointed look before rounding the corner of the couch and sitting down next to him again. “Babe, I’m sorry.” You exclaimed dramatically, hiding your face into the side of his body, making him laugh softly. “I’m going insane and now you’re stuck with me till death do us apart.” You whined, huffing out a loud sigh. His soft boyish laugh ringing in your ears. The slight irritation you had gained during your impossible quest, bubbling in the pit of your stomach.

“Sounds like a dream.” The sarcasm burning brightly in his vocal chord and you could almost feel him rolling his eyes. “Now, give me a kiss please.” He placed his fingers underneath your chin lifting your face up gently as he puckered his lips drastically.

Annoyed you pushed his face away, crossing your arms in front of you and pouting your lips. Mock hurt evident in his features. “You don’t deserve one all you did was watch me as I slowly lost my mind.”

“I can’t admire my beautiful wife now?”

“I mean...feel free to admire me, but not when I’m one step away from being admitted into a psych ward.” You leaned over, taking his wine glass out of his hand, bringing it up to your lips. A drink is what you needed. A small sip to calm down your racing thoughts, before you got up to look for your glasses again.

You threw your head back, waiting for the red liquid to reach your lips, savoring the taste before it even reached your mouth or your taste. And when it did, when it coated your lips enough for a drop to enter your mouth, your eyes grew wide in panic, remembering why you had been refused to drink with Taehyung tonight and why you had been so up in your head lately.

Taehyung watched as the scene unfolds in front of him. Instantly he had felt your rush of panic and his worries got the best of him. Acting on his fight or flight instincts he immediately took the glass from your hand, setting it down on the coffee table next to your forgotten glasses. “What’s wrong? I didn’t want to ask, but now you’re worrying me.” He placed his hands on your shoulders shaking you slightly, bringing you back to him.

Your eyes were glossy and distant as you breathed out a sigh looking into his eyes for a slight second before planting your gaze on the beige throw pillow you had been hugging earlier. It had helped ease your nerves before and now with Taeyhyungs piercing stare, burning holes into the top of your head. It was failing to do what you had wanted it to do. Comfort you.“I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you.” You whispered, playing with the little tassel on one of the four ends. “I mean I want to tell you, but I don’t know why I am so scared.”

“Is it something bad?” He said carefully. He could feel the air getting caught in the back of his throat as he tried to keep himself from thinking of every possible scenario, good or bad, to have you acting the way you were.

You lifted your head, chewing on your bottom lip. “It depends.” You shrugged slightly avoiding his eyes and settling upon the tv screen. The paused movie nowhere to be seen as it was now asking you if you wanted to keep watching.

“Depends on what? You’re scaring me.” The softens of his voice faltering as his grip on your arms got tighter, trying to keep himself from breaking down.

“On your reaction. I thought I would have more time to come to terms with it but I don’t think I can hold it in any longer,” you said in a haste. Your words combining with one another as Taehyung tried to keep up with your fever.

“Just say it...please. I can feel my heart trying to leave my body.”

“Taehyung,” you took a deep breath, digging your nails into the pillow, and turned to face the only man you had ever loved. “I’m pregnant.” You whispered with wide eyes. Maybe you weren’t going crazy but after finding out three weeks ago that you were with child, the thought of telling your husband the news was driving you to the point of no return.

It wasn’t like you and Taehyung didn’t want kids, the two of you had been trying for more than a year with little to no success. But the second you saw the little positive symbol on the pink and white stick, you couldn’t believe it. So you took another and another and another until you had about ten positive pregnancy tests staring back at you, mocking you. All you could do was cry.

Taehyung’s eyes sparkled with tears as he threw the pillow you were holding to the side and hugged you tightly. He buried his face into the crock of your neck leaving behind a trail of loving kissing trying to comfort your shaking form.

His biggest wish had finally come true.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier you big idiot?” He raised his head. His hands trailed up your spine until they reached your head. His thumbs swiping underneath your eyes taking your falling tears with him. “Why were you scared?”

“I just...it finally happened and I couldn’t believe it. I thought that if I said it outloud I would wake up from a dream or something.” You hiccuped.

Taehyung shook his head in disbelief a slight chuckle falling out of his lips as he leaned over and kissed your cheek. “That head of yours is your biggest enemy. No wonder you were in such a dreamlike daze the last two weeks.”

“Are you happy?” You pouted slightly, holding his arms gently, scared he would let you go.

“I’m more than happy, I’m so excited. I could literally run down the street naked, waking up the whole neighborhood, risking a public offense violation, just to let the whole world know that I am finally going to be a dad”

You laughed, throwing your arms around his neck and bringing him closer to you. “I’m starting to regret ever saying anything, I should’ve just kept it a secret for the next eight months.”

“Hmm, and here I was thinking that I should probably tell you where you left your glasses. Now I think I’m going to keep it a secret for the next eight months.” Teahyung stuck out his tongue at you before settling into the couch and bringing you along with him, making you whine in annoyance.

“I knew you knew where they were.” You grumbled crossing your arms in front of your chest. “I’ll let you decide on the first letter of your childs name if you tell me.” You sang, poking his side gently, making him yelp out in pain.

He turned to you, pouting, rubbing his side in pain, “first letter and their first outfit when we leave the hospital.” He challenged, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

“Kim Taehyung, it looks like you got yourself a solid deal.” You said, encasing your hand in his, giving it a firm shake before pulling you into his side. His arm entrapping you to keep you from moving and placed a loving kiss against your forehead.

“You left them on the coffee table.” He pulled away, presenting your clear framed glasses to you. You let out a sigh of relief, quickly grabbing them, slippin them on and cuddling into his side.

“You could’ve told me earlier, I really thought I was losing my mind for a second  back there.”

“If I didn’t would I have found out about our lovely baby bean?” He grabbed the remote, pressing the ‘continue watching’ button on the t.v. and unpaused the movie.

“I see your point.” You settled further into the side, finally letting yourself enjoy the movie. Earlier you had been ansty, pushing his hands away as they kept  traveling to your lower belly. Though, his intentions were far naughtier then what was playing in your mind. But you were afraid he would finally figure it out.

Five minutes

Five minutes was all it took before Tayhung paused the movie again and sat up in panic. “Oh my god,” He mumbled before turning to face you, eyes wide in horror and shook. “Babe I’m going to be a dad.”

You laughed, squishing his cheeks in between the palm of your hands. “Yeah I know, I thought I made that pretty clear a few minutes ago.” You teased as his eyes raced from your face and down to your midsection.

“I know but I was thinking about how we had sex last night and now I’m scared. Like what if we hurt the baby, what if I hurt the baby.”

“I don’t think that’s possible. You’re fine Tae, just play the movie.” You patted his cheeks lightly before getting up and walking into the kitchen, “do you want popcorn?”

He stood up and quickly made his way to the kitchen, leaning his forearms against the counter, watching as you placed the bag of popcorn into the microwave. “How can you be so calm about this, how do we know the babies okay? We need to call the doctor now and book an appointment.”

“Stop worrying, I’m sure baby is fine, but you can ask the doctor in a week during my first ultrasound.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, now do you want popcorn or not?”

“That’s a stupid question, I always want popcorn.”

[raplinesmoon]

Congratulations on your smilestone, Isi!! You deserve all the love and friends 💕

For the tinybaby drabble maybe Jimin + “You have snowflakes in your hair” (only if you feel so inspired 💛)

Hello lovely Hannah! Thank you for the ask and for the Joonie pic, both made me smile 💕😊💕 as promised, here’s a teeny tiny drabble featuring Mr. Park!

snowflakes in your hair

pairing: husband!Jimin x reader

warnings: one lighthearted mention of serial killers, almost taking someone out with a tv remote

word count: 392

The storm rages on outside, the snow coming down heavier as the window howls. Looking at the watch that adorns your wrist, you cluck your tongue. Your husband was late, and you were worried.

He hadn't responded to your texts for the past few hours, even the meme you'd sent to him making fun of how he was always last to leave the office doing little to elicit any sort of reaction. Lost deep in your thoughts, you fail to notice the lights flicker, and suddenly the room is bathed in darkness. Looking outside, all you see amongst the grey maelstrom is the reflection of the white snow banks.

Teeth chattering, the throw blanket on the couch looks enticing. Grabbing your pullover from on top of the armchair, you throw it over you and nuzzle against the soft wool of the blanket, drifting off to sleep with only the cold to keep you company.

. . .

Numerous loud raps against the door interrupt your slumber, causing you to bolt awake and grab the TV remote. Checking your surroundings, you realized the power was still gone. Who could be at your door this late at night? Maybe this time of year, when the snow was fresh and night came quickly outside, was the ripe time for a serial killer to come knocking. Clutching the remote tightly, knuckles turning white, you gingerly turn the doorknob, poised to strike-

“___! Put that thing down!” you gasp as you take in the sight of Jimin, ears reddened underneath his large marshmallow-looking hat.

“Jimin! Oh my god, I almost killed you with the remote!” you lovingly chastise him.

“I was picking us up some pizza, I knew the storm was coming and that we’d probably need some food to warm us,” Jimin grins.

“But here you were, ready to take me out at a moment’s notice,” he teases.

“I’m always ready to take you out, Mr. Park. And after this storm ends, you will take me out, on a date, to apologize for scaring the wits out of me,” you shoot him a smug grin.

“By the way,” you brush your hands against his silky strands, slightly damp from being outside as you lean in to press a kiss to his cheek. “You have snowflakes in your hair.”

smilestone ask prompts!

[onlydreamofmysoul]

Cardigan (Wolfstar)

I sat down to write a teeny drabble with two lines from the song Cardigan by Taylor Swift. It quickly spiralled into this. (I really love it though).

Set in the cannon universe, cw for mentions of death, injuries and scars. (Nothing graphic though).

I knew you, dancing in your Levi’s drunk under a streetlight. 

“Shh! Pads. you’re gonna get us caught!” Remus half-whispered, his own voice a tad too loud for his own liking but his slightly tipsy state didn’t allow for a lower volume. Sirius spun into him smushing his fingers right up against Remus’ lips, both of them chest to chest under James’ cloak. It was hard to believe the four of them mused to fit under this - now it only just about covered Remus and Sirius even with Remus ducking down to Sirius’ height. 

“Come on Moony, you’re ‘Perfect Mister Prefect’,” He said, punctuating each word of the grand title with his index finger poking into Remus; chest. “Even if we do get caught, you can charm our way out of it.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but followed. The passage was dim and the ground was uneven and to be perfectly honest, they hadn’t yet discovered if this particular passage way had been caved in since they last explored it the previous year, but Sirius seemed sure of himself and that was enough for Remus. If Sirius was the one leading, he’d always follow. 

“Alright, but I’m late on a transfiguration essay, so if Minnie catches us, you’re on your own. I need to save my charm for that.” He said, his tone stern, but all his reserve melted when Sirius smiled up at him and pressed a victorious kiss to his cheek. 

“I take back your title.” Sirius said dramatically, looking at Remus with a smug righteousness. “Apparently ‘Perfect Mister Prefect’ isn’t so perfect after all.”

He pressed his mouth right up next to Remus’ ear just as they stepped out the little secret entrance, ducking under the ivy trellis that hid their little passageway. “It’s a good thing I like bad boys.” Sirius breathed, and Remus couldn’t wait any more, not caring whether the cloak revealed their ankles or not when he pulled Sirius in for a blazing kiss. 

“I love you, you know that, right?”

Sirius smirked and kissed him again. “That seems to be the general consensus.”

Remus laughed and took off walking again, tugging the cloak off as soon as they were far enough away from the school, catching hands and spinning under the soft glow of the lamplights illuminating the path to Hogsmeade. Sirius tilted his head back, still spinning, their hands acting as the axis that centred the entire universe. 

“I love you too.”

I knew you, hands under my sweatshirt, baby kiss it better. 

“Sirius, if you don’t start being more careful, I’m gonna-”

“What?” Sirius teased, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively, looking far too haughty for a man sitting on a countertop, his legs dangling in the air. “What’re you gonna do Re? You gonna punish me?”

Remus pursed his lips to try hide his smile, but gave in, kissing Sirius once briefly.

“No,” He said, pulling up Sirius’ jumper to get a proper look at the gash he had acquired after climbing a tree. Then subsequently falling out of said tree. “But I will send you to Madam Pomfrey and have you try to explain to her that you thought you’d be able to pull off a levitation charm if there was a ‘more extreme sense of urgency’.” He finished, mocking Sirius’ words from earlier. 

Sirius just scrunched up his face playfully in retaliation, before breathing in shakily as Remus coated the cut with a liberal amount of salve, watching in fascination as the skin knitted back together.

“There.” He said, straightening up to stand between Sirius’ legs, pulling down his jumper again. “Good as new.”

“Nah ah.” Sirius countered, shaking his head as his legs locked behind Remus’ back, binding them together. “Gotta kiss it better.”

Remus wet his lips, shaking his head in fond disbelief, but leaned in willingly, feeling the hot slide of Sirius’ mouth against his own cooler one. 

“All better?” Remus asked, panting slightly as they rested their foreheads together. 

Sirius shrugged, hooking his arm more firmly around Remus’ neck. “Close, but not quite better yet.”

Remus huffed a laugh through his nose, but gladly locked their lips together again, the pair fully intertwined as if they had been made for each other. 

(And maybe they had. For what else was the moon to do but love the stars?)

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed, you put me on and said I was your favourite. 

“Sirius?” Re said softly, pushing the door to their dorm open slowly. “Are you here?”

“Yeah,” Came a muffled reply. “I’m here.”

Remus stepped into the room, looking first to Sirius’ bed to find it empty. Remus frowned, looking around to find Sirius curled up on Remus’ own bed, his favourite cardigan folded gently around him.

“Hi sweetheart,” Remus said, voice hushed as he climbed onto the bed next to the other boy, noting the red stained eyes and puffed lips. “What do you need?”

At the words, anything that seemed to be holding Sirius together until that point shattered, the raven haired boy collapsing into Sirius’ arms. 

“Re,” He gasped, between his sobs as Remus just pulled him closer. “Why is it possible to love someone who hates you? Isn’t love supposed to be good? If it’s so great, then why the fuck does it hurt so much?”

Remus’ heart clenched. Regulus. 

“I don’t know sweetheart,” He murmured, holding Sirius close. “But it makes us who we are.” He cupped Sirius’ face so he could meet the raging stormy eyes. “It’s better to have loved and have lost than to never have loved at all.”

Sirius just blinked at him. 

“But for the record,” Remus said, touching their heads together. “I don’t think you’ve lost him. He’s just lost right now. But he’ll find his way back to you.”

Sirius nodded, and slumped against Remus’ chest, no longer crying, just breathing deeply. 

“You know Remus Lupin,” He whispered after a while. “I don’t care how long it takes, but I’m gonna marry you someday.”

To kiss in cars, and downtown bars, was all we needed.

“Oh Merlin, they’re snogging again.” Peter commented as he turned his head to spot James and Lily, leaning in for a kiss. Remus, currently with his tongue in Sirius’ mouth heard this, but let Peter discover the other couple in his own time.

“Christ, the pair of you are too. You’re all fuckin at it.” He grumbled. If Remus’ mouth wasn’t already a little preoccupied, he would have laughed. There it was.

“Right, I’m off to find humans capable of holding decent conversation.” Peter muttered and he might have left. He could have stayed and done a jig on the table for all Remus cared, but in this moment, he noticed none of it. What was the poem he had read somewhere? Stars and moths and rinds slanting around fruit. This moment.

You drew stars around my scars and now I’m bleeding. 

“Hey, look at this.” Sirius said somewhat excitedly, rolling away from Remus momentarily and returning with a quill and a jar of ink. 

Remus eyed him skeptically, his arm tucked under his head as they lounged on his bed, the curtains drawn to create the illusion of their own little oasis. 

“I bet I could draw stars on your chest and then your scars could connect them, like in astronomy.”

Remus bit his lip, looking at Sirius’ appraised expression. “I feel like I should say no,” He said slowly, even as he unscrewed the ink. “But go for it.”

Sirius grinned triumphantly and studied Remus for a minute, brushing the quill over his lips as he concentrated. Remus couldn’t help but muse that if Sirius put half as much effort into his schoolwork as he was doing here, he would be top of the class. Finally, Sirius ditched the quill, dipping a finger into the ink directly. 

“I don’t want the point of the quill to scratch you.” He explained, after noticing Remus’ raised eyebrow. Something warmed inside Remus’ chest while something cold trickled over the outside. Remus closed his eyes and let himself focus on the slightly ticklish, but mostly soothing sensation of Sirius tracing patterns over his skin. 

“Done.” Sirius muttered after a while and Remus opened his eyes, raising his head a little to peer down at himself. He looked like some abstract piece of art, covered in black and blue and red and green, scars shining silver between it all. 

“Woah,” He breathed, “That’s pretty cool.”

Sirius grinned, then pointed to a star just over Remus; appendix. “That’s Sirius right there.”

Remus hummed, pursing his lips together, then grabbed a jar of ink, tracing a star a little messily, right over his heart. 

“Nah,” He countered, “Sirius is there.”

Sirius rolled his eyes, but came up to press their lips together. In the morning, they both looked like works of art.

But I knew you, stepping on the last train, marked me like a blood stain. 

“I can’t believe this is the last time we’ll be taking this train.” James said, the four of them standing in a row on the platform, not yet ready to get on. 

“We’ll be back.” Remus said. “Someday, we’ll be back.”

Sirius linked their fingers together. As one, the marauders stepped onto the train. 

Mischief Managed.

I knew you, tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy.

Remus just stared at the auror. 

“Mr Lupin,” The man said gently, playing his hand tenderly on Remus’ arm. Remus didn’t know what his name was. It was probable the man had said it but Remus wasn’t listening. Everything had gone dark. “I realise this must come as a shock.”

Remus wrenched his arm back, shaking his head. “A shock?” He laughed a little manically. “No, you’re wrong.”

“Mr Lupin, we have evidence that Sirius Black was the one to-”

“Well you’re wrong!” Remus yelled. Or maybe he had whispered. It was possible he hadn’t even spoken at all, but the words swirled around and around in his head. “I don’t know how, but you’re wrong. You’re wrong, this isn’t right, you have it all wrong, he would never-”

Remus gasped, pressing a hand to his cracking heart as if it would hold him together. “He would never.” He repeated, his voice breaking, tears streaming down his cheeks. When they had gotten there, he didn’t know, but their presence was suddenly noticeable with the cold rush against Remus’ skin. 

“I’m so sorry.” The auror said and then he was gone. And Remus was alone. 

Had it always been this way? Remus alone. Remus with friends. Remus with Sirius. Remus alone. 

Maybe he had made the entire thing up. 

But dreams didn’t leave you feeling like the last kiss you’d ever had was from a  dementor, not your true love. 

It is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. He had said that to Sirius once. 

What a fool he had been. 

I knew you, leaving like a father, running like water, when you are young they assume you know nothing. 

“It is believed this was a plan Mr Black had been staging for quite some time now.” A newspaper read. Remus snorted and threw it in the fire. Sirius couldn’t even plan a week in advance. What they fuck did these people know. 

But then, what did Remus know? His love was long lost, Rapunzel in a tower. Remus was no knight. 

But he knew in his heart, none of this was true. He knew. He didn't care what anyone else said, they may have known his thoughts, but Remus knew his heart. 

But I knew you’d linger like a tattoo kiss. 

Sirius’ leather jacket still hung in the cupboard under the stairs. His hair potion, still in the shower. Remus couldn’t bear to see them. He could never throw them away. 

I knew you’d haunt all of my what if’s.

Remus should have fought harder for Harry. 

He should have, he should have, he should have, he should have. 

He should have known better.

What if.

A smirking smile and stormy eyes. Hair held up with a wand. Those same dark strands coiled around Remus’ fingers. 

The smell of smoke would hang around this long. Cause I knew everything when I was young. 

Remus woke up to James’ scream. Except it couldn’t be James. Unless… Had this all been a dream?

James opened his eyes and suddenly there was Lily. Lily and James and they didn’t know who Remus was. 

(Remus had been the first one to hold baby Harry. Before even Sirius. And now he didn’t even know him)

I knew I’d curse you for the longest time. 

Remus hated Sirius. Not for being the notorious mass murderer Sirius Black. But for leaving him alone.

Why is it possible to love someone who hates you? Remus wanted to laugh. His question to Sirius now would be this; Why couldn’t he stop loving someone he should hate.

Chasing shadows in the grocery line.

The students all murmured about the Grimm. The paintings gossiped about little else. Even the staff room had a few words on the subject matter. Remus tried not to let his heart flutter. 

(But his boy was free. And there was a grim on the loose).

I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired.

Walking down to Hagrid's hut, Remus thought he saw something rustle in the bushes. He stepped off the path and looked closer, barely even breathing as his heart thundered, but the shadows that had lurked were gone. 

And you’d be standing in my front porch light.

“Lie low at Lupins.”

For the first time in twelve years, amber met grey. 

“Re,” Sirius croaked, and Remus shattered. He pulled Sirius inside the door quickly, shutting it and reinforcing all of the charms around his little cottage, drawing all the blinds shut and placing a charm around the area so he would know if anyone approached the house before he finally turned, and there he was. 

And I knew you’d come back to me.

Not Mass Murderer Sirius Black. 

Not even Padfoot. 

But Sirius. Remus’ Sirius. 

“Re,” Sirius said again, “It’s not true, it’s not true.” He said, repeating the words as he shook his head, eyes filling. “It’s not true, I would never.”

He would never.

Remus shook his head too, pulling Sirius into the tightest hug they ever might have shared. 

“I know.” He whispered. “I know.”

You’d come back to me.

Sirius after a few weeks of good food and warmth looked a lot more like the boy Remus had once known, but there was no denying the person with his was now a man. Remus supposed they both were. 

You’d come back.

“I love you.” Sirius whispered one night as they were curled under a blanket, Remus reading as Sirius lay on his chest, the position comforting and oh so familiar. 

“Do you think you could ever love me again?”

Remus’ heart cracked as he set down his book and curled his fingers gently around Sirius’ jaw, tilting his head so Remus could look into that swirling sea. 

“Love you again?” He said, his voice nearly cracking in disbelief. “Pads, how could I love you again when I never stopped?”

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone’s bed, you put me on and said I was your favourite. 

“I can’t believe you still have this.” Sirius whispered, pulling the same cardigan he always stole out of the back of Remus’ drawer. 

“It used to smell like you.” Remus admitted. “But I wore it too much, I missed you too much.”

Sirius smiled, shrugging it on, it curling around his shoulders the way he curled into Remus, tilting his head up and pressing his lips against Remus’. 

“I can fix that.” He whispered and Remus held him close, taking his time. 

(For what else was the moon to do but love the stars?)

[freezethebeez]

Falls to knees dramatically

How could you do this to me? Leave me on that cliffhanger? I have been betrayed!

But I will wait patiently- I will hold onto this cliff for the week, and soon I will have my reward.

Holds onto the cliff while they work on their own stuff

stay strong!! we've only got one more teeny tiny cliffhanger in ch 10 and then no more!!

it was really evil what i did to you all at the end of ch 7, but the goodies on the horizon :D

for comfort, have a small snippet of entirely self-indulgent comfort writing i've been doing.

-> below the cut is a catalyst!beeduo fluff drabble written in 2nd person. all fluff, no cliffhanger, but also not canon lol

drabble yep

"I've never seen the sunrise before," he mumbles sleepily into your chest. His head's been resting there for hours now, you think. He's been listening to your heartbeat; you don't plan on moving anytime soon.

"Not even on film?" you ask. Your fingers gently scratch at the fine hairs on the nape of his cold neck, just as his run across your warm arm.

"No. I've seen it on film, but I don't think it's the same." It's not. You know it's not. You nearly put off killing yourself for it at one point.

You only hum in response.

It's a privilege to be awake long enough to see it. It's a privilege that he doesn't have. You wish you could find a way to give it to him somehow, let him live through you.

As pretty as the sunrise is, though, there's no place you'd rather be.

His room is dark, blackout curtains drawn. His bed is far too large for just one person, composed of the most plush, comfortable mattress you've ever sat on, covered in the finest duvets, and you could easily see yourself spending the rest of your life here.

With him, of course, because this moment merely wouldn't be the same without his head on your chest and his fingertips skimming up and down your arm.

He's always been like this– overly gentle and scared to touch. It was a miracle he even asked to be here, a miracle you even heard the soft request in the first place.

"Can I just– can I listen to your heartbeat?" he'd asked, voice a meek murmur. You'd smiled at him, laid down, him laying down beside you, shifting slowly until he was comfortable– checking if you were, too, of course.

He's always loved that fact that you're human– alive and human. He's always loved the sound of your heartbeat and the way you breathe, the way your skin is always warm and carries blood underneath– he's always loved the way your blood tastes but hates it all the same (the more chaotic part of you loves that part about him– how he lives in a world of paradox. It's fascinating).

Just as the slivers of the sun's golden hues begin to paint the sky outside, you feel him go limp.

He stills. His hand stops moving. He doesn't respond when you sigh, doesn't move to snuggle closer. He doesn't smile when you kiss the top of his head.

He's dead on top of you.

You look through the sliver of light again. The sky probably looks beautiful right now, your mind filling the gaps that the blackout curtains create.

You have a dead corpse laying on top of you and the sun is rising just outside the window. But there's no place you'd rather be.

[scoopsgf]

can i get a good night’s sleep? can i PLEASE get a good night’s sleep?!

or: five times peter parker doesn’t sleep + the one time he does

my contribution to the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange! this is for @snarky-drabbles - I hope you enjoy it! 

1. 

The first time is actually just the first in a while. Peter’s had problems sleeping ever since he was a little kid; it was just one issue of many that stacked up on top of each other, resulting in his personal belief that he must be the most difficult kid to look after on the planet.

Asthma meant hundreds of dollars spent on inhalers, covering what their shitty insurance didn’t. His poor eyesight was the same story and the bullies that used to break his glasses had never helped. But it wasn’t just physical crap, of course: he’s had anxiety for as long as he can remember.

There are cute side-effects like panic attacks and nausea, not to mention the constant sense of impending doom he’s been nursing since… well, birth, probably. When he was younger he’d worry about whether or not the taxi driver had enough gas in his car to get them where they needed to go, or maybe Ben would get shot at work (ironically enough, he’d never worried that Ben would get shot off-duty, and there is a teeny superstitious sliver of him that believes maybe if he had considered the possibility it never would have happened, like some kind of a reverse jinx or something).

One of the other cute things that comes along with it is insomnia.

So here he is, pacing in his kitchen at three in the morning because May isn’t home yet.

Her shift ended at two. She’s usually back within a half hour considering the hospital isn’t far, hence his agitation.

He’s tried calling and texting to no avail, and he keeps telling himself that everything is fine, that she probably just got held up; meanwhile his subconscious provides a great slideshow of mental images that speak to the opposite—her getting kidnapped because somehow someone links her to Spider-Man, her getting hit with a car, mugged, shot, slipping on black ice—and that’s actually not far-fetched considering it’s January, there’s a lot of it, and so he pulls out his phone and types, You didn’t slip on black ice and die did you? to May.

No little dots appear to signify that she’s typing. The message doesn’t even change from ‘delivered’ to ‘read’.

She has her read receipts on. She’s promised him. There’s no reason she’d change that, right? But maybe she accidentally switched them off when she was scrolling through her settings.

He calls her.

“Hi, this is May Parker, I’m unavailable at the moment but if you leave me a message I’ll get back to you as soon as—”

Peter hangs up with a dissatisfied grunt.

It’s only then that he realises, to his great dismay, that he’s paced all the way onto the ceiling.

In his shock he loses concentration and falls. “Ow, fuck.” He pulls his aching knee to his chest. It’ll no doubt be bruised soon. “God has forsaken me.”

He picks up his now cracked phone and texts Ned:

I just fell off the ceiling at 3 AM in the morning

Don’t ask me what I was doing on it

Every bone in my body is broken :(

No reply comes which is pretty typical; Ned probably passed out in front of his PC like, hours ago. Peter can picture it: the light of his computer screen casting a blue glow over everything in the room, his head probably tucked into his arms to muffle his snores (and there’s also probably a bowl of stale popcorn spilled across his floor at this point), his creepy mother lurking in the doorway—or worse, trying to find out how to snoop through his laptop while he’s out of it.

Peter could totally go swing down there and help the guy out. It would be something to do anyway.

But no. The door is too far. His suit… too much work. It’s definitely better to just stay here curled up under the table like a little turtle.

But wait—a blanket.

Is it worth the effort? Probably. Peter scans his immediate surroundings and, oh boy, Lady Fate is actually on his side tonight because there’s a gigantic purple fluffy one hanging off the couch and it only takes a little bit of physical exertion to yank it down and wrap it around his body.

He burrows deeper into it and scrolls through Instagram. MJ posted a picture of a banana today. Literally like, just a banana. No caption, no explanation on her story, nothing.

Peter double taps it and comments: i hope u asked before u took his jacket

No like. No reply. That makes sense. It is three in the fucking morning, after all.

No. Three thirty. It’s been an hour and a half.

What had May said once? That it was okay to call someone if she was two hours late?

Peter tries texting and calling one more time and then just sits there, staring at his home screen and watching the minutes pass. At exactly four AM after much deliberation and stomach churning, he calls someone else.

Three rings later: “I’m in Vienna right now so this better be good.”

Peter feels even more nauseous than before. “Oh,” he says. “I guess—never mind, then. Sorry.”

“Wait, wait, that was just for show and I’m greatly intrigued as to why you’re calling me so… early? Late? Anyway I’m out of the conference room now so lay it on me.”

Against his will, Peter’s lip quirks up. “Um, it’s kind of stupid—”

“Nothing is ever stupid,” Tony says. “Especially when it’s coming from the brain of a kid with an intelligence quotient of 260.”

He feels his cheeks heat up and then it all just comes tumbling out, “It’s really late and May was supposed to be off at two and home by two-thirty, but she’s not and I don’t know what to do. I tried calling and texting but she’s not replying and I know that I’m probably just building it up in my head but I can’t help freaking out because like, what if she got stabbed or slipped on black ice or—”

“Hey Pete?”

“Yeah?”

“Breathe.”

Tony’s voice has softened immeasurably. Something uncoils in Peter’s stomach. He flops onto his side and closes his eyes. “I’m breathing.”

“That’s good, kiddo. Now just hang on a sec, I’m gonna call the hospital.”

“What? Why?”

“Well she works there, right?”

“...Yeah.”

“And you haven’t tried calling them yet, correct?”

“...Correct.”

“Ergo,” Tony says.

“But I—”

“Yeah?”

Peter bites his lip and then he just blurts it: “I don’t want you to hang up.”

He feels like such a child but the thought of losing connection with Tony is literally making his heart palpitate and his palms sweat. He needs someone. He needs an adult.

“Well lucky for us both I have two phones.”

Peter cracks an eye. “You what?”

“I’m Tony Stark, don’t question it. Hang on, let me just—hello, hi, um, I need this room. No, it can’t wait. Yes the whole room. Yes locked. I don’t know, five minutes? Ten? An hour? No, I’m not joking. Thank you. Thanks. Yeah. Okay. Bye now.” Something slams shut—the door to the office Tony just stole, probably. “Okay, just a sec, I have the number for the reception desk she works at in my phone.”

Peter, for some reason, feels immeasurably comforted by that. He sits in silence gnawing on his lip while Tony has a somewhat muffled conversation he can’t hear the other side of. Then, “You still there?”

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Okay, well, they said she’s covering for someone and can’t get to the phone because a baby had to have emergency surgery so she’s literally in the OR as we speak. Pretty badass and not bad as far as excuses go. Now that you know she’s fine and not dead by ice, how about you get some shut-eye, okay kid?”

Peter swallows. “Yeah. Okay. Thank you, Tony.”

“No Mr. Stark this time, huh?”

“It’s too late for formalities.”

“I see,” Tony replies. “Sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

The line goes dead. Peter, slightly relieved but not fully consoled, rolls over to face the door. He doesn’t sleep at all that night and is still there when May comes home at six in the morning with bagels and apologies.

—

2. 

The anniversary of Ben’s death is always super weird.

This time it takes him a few minutes to remember what day it is: he’s in the middle of brushing his teeth and then it hits him like a train: oh, it’s been three years.

Then comes May. She usually tries to cook something for breakfast but like always it burns. He leaves the bathroom to the sound of the smoke alarm and fans a cookie sheet at the screeching little device while she swears up and down in Italian.

“It’s okay, May, really—”

“No, it’s not!” She snaps, tossing a batch of blackened cinnamon rolls into the trash. “I just want this day to be easy for you!”

Peter goes over to her and, after kicking the oven door shut with his foot, pulls her into his arms. May starts to cry even though she tries not to; sniffles turn into barely stifled sobs. He knows that it’s harder for her than it is for him. Ben was her husband and they’d been married for thirteen years when he died. Sometimes he still catches her looking to see if he’s laughing too when they watch TV, only to find an empty recliner.

“It’s okay for it to be a bad day,” he whispers. “You know that, right? I mean, I love you to pieces, May, but I don’t wanna see you bending over backwards for me.”

“But that’s my job, doofus.”

Peter pulls back. He’s an inch taller than her now. “No it’s not. We take care of each other, okay?”

Then comes school. Ned usually hovers nervously like an agitated gnat, too afraid to say anything, not sure if he should act normal or be sad in solidarity, which means it’s kind of Peter’s job to set the tone. As he’s putting his combination in for his locker he asks, “So did you beat that level of Obra Dinn last night?”

Ned, shoulders slumping with relief, starts to ramble on about how hard it was to do and how it took him like, thirty whole tries.

They go to class. Peter zones out. He doesn’t bother making more web fluid or ditching and he gets so inside his own head that Coach Wilson compliments him again during gym class. Peter deliberately slows down after that, even if it’s kind of irritating; being physically active actually helps work off his anger.

Because that’s what he is more than anything else: angry. At the mugger, yeah, but at himself more than anything else. It was his fault that they were out that night, anyway. It’s a wonder that May doesn’t hate his fucking guts.

When school is up Peter comes home to an empty house. He thinks about going on patrol but doesn’t really feel up to it, and then he feels bad for not wanting to do it because like, what if someone is dying?

So he puts on the suit and swings from rooftop to rooftop, but there’s no action today. Peter eventually settles on a fire escape with a burrito. A stray cat hops up after a while and, despite his matted fur and crazy eyes, Peter decides he has a kind of quiet dignity about him and names him Charles.

“Do you like beef?” He asks, holding some out for Charles to sniff. The cat yowls and, without any warning other than that, nearly chomps Peter’s fingers off to get the meat.

“Ow, jeez!” Peter shakes his wrist. “I was literally giving it to you for free, but go off I guess.”

Charles blinks his big brown marble eyes and then literally jumps off the fucking ledge. Peter leans over and watches him scamper across the street, somehow not getting hit by any traffic. Sometimes he thinks his spidey sense is more like feline sense in that way: he could probably manage the same thing with his eyes closed.

After a while the sun sets and all of the streetlights turn on. Peter does another patrol around the immediate vicinity but again, nothing. He stays out anyway though because he’d rather do his Chemistry homework behind a dumpster than sit alone in the apartment with nothing but the quiet for company. At least out and about there are sewer rats and mangy dogs and shady characters who actually just turn out to be skateboarders.

Peter is almost done with his assignment when the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

He looks up and finds Iron Man himself coming in for a landing. The suit drops with a barely audible clunk; it’s Mark 54, the sleekest and most lightweight model yet.

“Oh thank God,” says Tony’s voice, “you’re not dead.”

Peter frowns even though Tony can’t see it. “No,” he agrees slowly. “Why would I be dead? What are you doing here?”

“Well, your aunt called me in a panic at around four when she got home and you weren’t there, and then I checked the scanners and saw that you’d been here, completely stationary, for like five whole hours—needless to say I had a little bit of a heart attack and here I am, relieved and also mildly infuriated. Care to explain, young padawan?”

Peter opens his mouth to speak. Closes it. Opens it again and, “It’s four AM?”

“Four fifteen,” Tony corrects.

“I didn’t even—I didn’t know! Shit, May’s totally gonna kill me, I might as well be dead—”

“Woah woah woah,” the faceplate lifts, “calm down, okay? No one is mad. Just, uh, concerned, I promise.”

Peter is still frantically packing up his school supplies and not really listening. He only stops when Tony gently touches him by lightly gripping his elbow. “Kid?”

Peter stares down at the older man’s hand. Behind the mask his eyes start to burn. “Ben died.”

“Pardon?”

“Ben died,” he repeats louder. “In this alley. Two years ago.”

All at once Tony’s face falls. He moves to sit by Peter on the grimy floor of the alley while the suit hovers nearby, a hollow shell, just the way Peter feels now.

“Kid,” Tony says, “take off the mask.”

“What? No, I’m in public—”

“No one’s around,” Tony says. “Just take it off, okay?”

Peter does, reluctantly peeling it back to reveal his tear-stained cheeks. Tony stares for a second and then, almost hesitantly, he wraps his arms around Peter. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I—” he chokes. “I’m just so tired. I’m tired of having to watch May be strong for me when I can’t be strong back, and I’m tired of Ben not being around. I miss him and it—it’s not fair.”

“Of course it’s not. It’s never fair. That’s why it hurts, kiddo. You’ve got all this love and no place to put it.”

Peter bites his lip to stop it from quivering and looks away, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes. “I just feel pathetic.”

“Don’t,” Tony says firmly. “I felt the same way after my mom died and it… In some ways I don’t think the feeling ever actually went away, but uh, take it from someone who’s had a lot more time to process: no one is expecting anything from you, okay? And I can guarantee there’s not a single human that thinks two years is long enough to be perfectly fine again. You’re allowed to still be upset about this.”

And Peter is. He’s really, really fucking upset about it and so tired of holding it in. Tony pulls him against his chest when Peter starts to cry and it sort of seems like he’ll never be able to stop. There’s just so much, so much guilt and pain and all kinds of other bullshit that he refuses to lay on May.

So he lays it on Tony. And it’s surprisingly not horrible or awkward or even the end of the world.

“You good?” the older man asks, when Peter finally sobers up enough to wipe his cheeks dry and take a few steadying breaths.

“Yeah,” he says, voice ragged and awful-sounding. “Um, sorry. For freaking you and May out and ruining your shirt, I mean.”

“You know there’s this really snazzy invention called a washing machine—”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

Tony laughs and it makes Peter laugh too, and the tension between them just sort of dissipates. “Speaking of clothes,” Tony claps his hands together, “you got any to wear in that backpack?”

“Uh, jeans and a hoodie?”

“Fantastic, incredible. Throw them on, I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

“But what if someone sees?!”

“Let ’em. I’ll have Pep release a statement claiming you as my personal assistant or head intern or something.”

“That’s totally unrealistic.”

“Do I care? No. Just—okay? Up and at ’em, make haste, come on. What do you feel like, pancakes or waffles?”

They bicker about which is better the entire way to the little diner Tony choses, and Peter comes home full an hour later. May is fast asleep at the kitchen table. He kisses her forehead and starts on breakfast for her.

—

3. 

He’s thirty minutes into helping MJ study for her AP French test when she finally gets a question wrong. “‘Il n'est pas clair que’?” Peter queries, holding up the flash card.

“‘It’s not certain that’?”

He makes a pitying noise. “Close. ‘It’s not clear that’.”

“What’s not clear, exactly? That if I see one more word in French I’m gonna blow my brains out?”

Peter snorts. “No, actually it says more clarification is required on how much you like your boyfriend. Suggestions to improve that include: a hug, a kiss, both—”

“Neither?”

He pouts. “Mean.”

MJ rolls her eyes, but she kisses him first. She tastes like the Twizzlers they’ve been eating and her hands are in his hair and she laughs when he presses his lips to her cheeks and nose and forehead.

They somehow end up in an incredibly compromising position. “You know,” MJ muses, “I don’t think I’ve been studying the right kind of French.”

Peter, hovering over her (oops), nods in agreement. “This kind is definitely way better.”

She wraps her arms around his neck and he’s so consumed with this: her and him and the smell of her jasmine shampoo—that he almost doesn’t hear it.

Almost.

Peter rips away abruptly. “What was that?”

She groans. “God, you’re such a dog sometimes.”

He ignores her, sitting alert with his eyes narrowed at the window and, sure enough, there it is again: a faint, blood-curdling scream. “Someone’s being attacked or something. Maybe four blocks away tops.”

MJ squints. “Don’t tell me you can echolocate.”

“I—” Peter’s mouth snaps shut and then opens again. “I actually don’t know. Anyway, I gotta go.”

He presses a quick kiss to her cheek, throws on his jacket, and quickly ducks out her fire escape (which happens to be the same way that he came in). He slips the mask on and tosses his hood up; it’s raining in heavy, icy sheets and Peter is drenched within seconds of swinging. He remembers the first time he’d gone out during a storm; the webbing he’d made hadn’t held up because the chemical formula hadn’t accounted for the massive amounts of water-based reaction, so the biocables had evaporated as they left his shooters. Thankfully he hadn’t jumped first that day, otherwise he would be a Peter Pancake.

Another scream sounds. Peter follows it and winds up latched onto the side of a two-story brick building. There’s an incredibly dark alley below, but a quick flash of lightning tells him everything he needs to know: one man is trying to wrestle a woman down, while another is rifling through her purse. He’s also holding a gun.

“Oh, cute,” he mutters sarcastically.

Peter tries to time it right: he takes aim and shoots a web right at the weapon with the next bout of lightning, but to his immense misfortune, the armed mugger had already seen him and was aiming right back. The bullet hits Peter in the side.

“Ow,” he says, “that was uncalled for.”

He drops. His side is throbbing and hot but he ignores it in favour of disarming the guy who shot him. It’s a brief struggle but Peter ends up whacking the gun out of his hand and webbing it to the wall opposite. Then he knocks the guy out with a solid upper cross to the temple.

Peter rounds. The assailant has already fled, leaving the woman shivering but relatively unharmed.

“You okay, ma’am?” he asks.

“Me? That guy shot you!”

Peter looks down at his side which is now stained with blood. “Oh, yeah.”

He’d actually forgotten for half a second. Now that the adrenaline is wearing off, he’s starting to really feel it: a burning sensation in his abdomen, an aching that pulses from his stomach to his chest. Ah. Wonderful.

A little dazed, he shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me. Super healing. Are you good? You need me to call you a cab?”

“What? No, um—the police station is like, down the block, I can go get them.”

“Are you sure? Because I can totally do that—”

“I can handle myself,” she says sharply, bending down to pick up her purse and the discarded items within. “It’s just… there were two of them and there was a gun and—”

“I get it,” Peter says, his hand pressing harder into his side as the world grows blurrier around the edges. “You really don’t want me to at least walk you down?”

“I’ll take a taxi,” she says. “You just, um, get yourself fixed up, okay? And thanks.”

“Yeah, sure, anytime! But, y’know, preferably never again,” Peter says, and proceeds to swing away.

—

Tony doesn’t expect to get woken up at two AM after only just falling asleep five minutes before, but such is life; FRIDAY’s voice bleeds through the speakers above to inform him that Spider-Man is currently rifling through the Med-Bay and bleeding from a wound on his side.

Pepper looks at him. “You heard that too, right? That was real?”

“It was real.”

They both scramble out of bed. Tony takes the lead, throwing on his jacket as he runs toward the elevator. It’s times like these when every second stretches out into an eternity; it takes maybe five of them to get from their floor to the Med-Bay, but it feels like forever.

The doors open and there’s Peter, perched on a gurney with his shirt gone and a whole lot of blood staining his side. He’s bent awkwardly, clearly trying to feel his way around whatever wound he’s got.

“Um,” Tony says, approaching, “What.”

Peter looks up and—yeah, he’s lost a lot more blood than Tony had originally thought. His face is fucking drained. “Hey,” he says, offering a jaunty wave before returning his attention to his side. “I got shot.”

“Oh!” Tony nods. “Oh, okay. What the fuck, kiddo?”

“I know, right?” Peter glances up. “Hey, Pepper.”

“Peter,” she returns. “Do you mind if I wash my hands and take a look at that?”

“If you want. It’s kinda gross, though.”

“Believe me, I’ve seen worse.”

Through this exchange Tony was already washing up, and now he dons a pair of gloves and sits on the rolling stool. “Looks like it’s through and through,” he tells Pep over his shoulder. “Could you grab a couple suture kits and, uh, the stuff?”

Pepper makes a face. “The stuff?”

“You know,” Tony says, “The Good Stuff.”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, that stuff.”

Tony feels around the area. “Do you know what kind of gun was used?”

“Looked like your standard nine mil,” Peter replies. His voice is growing a little slurred.

That’s good though, about the gun. Means there’s probably not any bullet fragments to worry about. Tony grabs a load of gauze and presses it against the wound. He checks Peter’s pulse while he’s at it and finds that it’s slowed considerably. “We’re gonna have to get you some blood, too. A neg, right?”

“Yuppers.”

Tony excuses that because after all, the kid is bleeding out on a table. Said kid actually starts to swing his legs back and forth and, yeah, that’s not gonna fly. “Do me a favour and lay back? I’m gonna put this towel right under you for now.”

Peter doesn’t have any arguments, or if he does, he doesn’t vocalise them. Pepper comes back in with the kits and drugs and, because she’s just smarter than him like that, bags of blood.

Tony grabs the vials first and loads up a syringe. Peter is pretty numb to all of it until the needle goes in. Then he frowns. “Why are you injecting me with alien blood?”

Tony rolls his eyes. “It’s not alien blood, it’s a pain killer. A serious one at that, so you’re probably gonna feel a little out of it for a while, okay?”

Peter frowns. “Is it for Steve?”

Tony tenses, but it’s only for a second. “Yes,” he says, somewhat tightly.

“Ugh. What a turd, Mr. Stark. You’re giving me turd vitamins!” Tony scoffs while Pepper laughs. Peter notices. “See? She thinks I’m funny.”

“You’re not helping me here,” Tony says to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Here, have some thread.”

Tony sighs. “Just stay still for me, okay?”

Peter does. Pepper passes him various supplies and they work together to sew up both ends of the gunshot wound. By the time they’re done, Peter hasn’t moved once, but his eyes are open and he’s frowning.

“How do you feel?”

“Wired,” he says.

“Seriously? Bruce never said anything about the side-effects, but I figured they’d be like normal pain-killers; make you drowsy and all that.”

“No,” Peter sits up quickly and doesn’t even flinch. “I feel like I just got steroids or something. Are you—are you actually telling me that Captain America’s drugs are infused with a stimulant? What, so he can keep fighting even when he’s in the middle of dying?”

Tony blinks. “Well that was smart of dear Banner.”

“Yeah, or insane.” Peter flexes his hands. “I feel like I need to go for a run, or like, break something.”

“Let’s avoid that,” Tony says, pushing him back down. “You need to heal, not mess yourself up even more, understood?”

Peter stares. “Is it normal to see sounds?”

Pepper bursts out laughing again. “I’m sorry,” she says when Tony glares. “Really, I am, I promise. Peter, honey, how about we get you to a bedroom where you can rest up? We’ll call your aunt and explain everything.”

—

Everything is going fine until May asks, “How did you get to the Tower so quick, then?”

Peter blinks. “Hmm? Pardon?”

“If you were at Ned’s,” May says, “how’d you manage to swing all the way across town?”

Peter opens his mouth and closes it. “I, uh… well, funny story, um… I wasn’t actually at Ned’s?”

There’s a pause over the phone. Pepper, who’s holding it, raises an eyebrow. May says: “You told me you were going to Ned’s, Peter.”

His face feels hot. He hopes it isn’t red. Both Pepper and Tony—from the doorway with his hands stuffed in his sweatpant pockets—are staring. It’s almost as bad as if May were really here.

“Well I was going to Ned’s, but then I changed my mind and went somewhere else and oh—look at the time! I think we’re going through a tunnel—”

“Don’t even try to pull that crap! That’s it, I’m coming over there—”

“May,” Peter says, serious now, “you’re in the middle of a shift, there’s people dying. Just—I’m perfectly fine, I took my Captain America drugs and everything is gonna be okay.”

“But you lied to me.”

“No, I changed my mind.”

“And went where?”

“Irrelevant.”

“Peter.”

“May.”

She groans from the other end of the line and demands to speak to Pepper one on one. Tony’s fiancé grins and switches off speaker, before slipping out with a bright laugh to finish off the conversation. Tony stares expectantly. “So where were you?”

“Oh my god, not you too. You know, on second thought, I actually am completely exhausted and—”

“Uh, nope,” Tony flops down onto the bed. “Fess up.”

Peter sighs. He squirms down and covers his pillow with a head. “No.”

Tony joins him under it. “Tell me.”

Peter scowls. He rolls onto his side so they’re facing one another. “I was with my girlfriend.”

“Oooo—”

“Shush! It’s… it’s really not a big deal and I haven’t told May yet because MJ and I haven’t even really talked about it and it all happened super fast and—” he remembers to breathe, “I just… I always tell May everything, you know? But I kind of just felt like… this was something I had to figure out first on my own. Maybe it’s stupid, but I know she’s gonna be super hurt when she finds out it’s been a month and I haven’t said anything—”

“Kid,” Tony cuts in. “Calm down.”

“I’m calm,” Peter promises, because he is. He’s also just incredibly hyper and stressed.

“It’s a normal instinct to want to figure things out and define them before you start announcing them to the world. I get that. But you’re still a kid, Pete, and even if you don’t want people prying into your love life, we still need to know where you are in case something goes wrong.”

Peter harrumphs as he turns away. “There’s a tracker on my phone and my suit. It would be easier to find me than anything else.”

Tony clicks his tongue. “You got a point there.”

“I just wanted time.”

“I know.”

“But I really like her, okay? Like she’s so smart and she’s got this really dark sense of humour and she’s actually kind of terrifying sometimes—”

“Oh, the scary ones are always fun.”

They stay up talking through the night and, when the sun comes up, Pepper joins them with a tray of freshly made blueberry waffles. May arrives around the same time and, looking too tired to be mad, simply drops onto the bed with them and steals what’s left of his food.

—

4. 

Peter is on patrol when he hears it:

a soft, quiet yelping coming from somewhere down below the rooftop he’s perched on.

At first he figures he’s imagining things, but then his ears perk again. He leans over the building’s edge to find the source of the noise.

In the dark it’s hard to make anything out, so he climbs slowly down the side of the wall, squinting. There’s another yelp and a low whine, almost pained. Peter zeroes in on the sound and creeps toward a set of dumpsters; they’re so full of trash they’re overflowing, and it’s underneath a broken down cardboard box that he finds it... 

A puppy.

Now, Peter is no liar. He’s wanted a dog since he was like, a fetus. The words ‘A dog’ have been on every birthday and Christmas list for as long as he can remember. It’s only recently, in the years since Ben’s death, that he’s pretty much given up—after all, May is so overworked and they can barely afford to feed themselves. How could they afford a pet?

But also…

This is the cutest dog he’s ever seen.

It’s tiny and fluffy and brown and has the biggest, saddest eyes he’s ever seen.

Peter kind of just stands there staring like an idiot for a good few seconds and then slowly kneels down. “Um, hi,” he says, in the gentlest voice he can manage. The puppy, who can’t be older than a few weeks and looks completely starved and exhausted, whines in response.

Peter holds out his hand for the dog to sniff. It lifts its head lazily and leans forward, nose twitching and dry. “You need water, huh? Come on, I know a place.”

—

“Shelob,” Tony greets without looking up from whatever project he’s working on. “What can I do for you at… one in the fucking morning?”

“I need your help with something, but you have to promise you won’t get mad or make me get rid of him—”

“Oh, for God’s sake, what have you done now?”

“He was just so helpless and cold and small and…” Peter swallows and reveals the puppy, presently wrapped up in his hoodie. “Meet Nugget.”

Tony’s face is the epitome of Disappointed Dad. He stares, open-mouthed, and after a second his shoulders fall. “Well, fuck.”

Peter snuggles Nugget against his chest and steps closer, but then Tony holds up a hand to stop him. “Nah-ah! Not until that thing gets a flea bath!”

Hope sparks in Peter’s chest. “You mean we can keep him?”

“I mean there’s no way I’m getting near him until I know I won’t break out in hives.”

“That’s not how fleas work.”

“Do I care? No. Come on, let’s go to the bathroom.”

—

“Why do you have flea shampoo?”

Peter’s inquiry is made tentatively. They both have their hands in the sud-filled sink as they systematically wash Nugget’s fur.

“There was… an incident a while ago. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Peter stares. Blinks. “Okay. Well, I think he’s clean.”

Nugget barks as if in agreement, and so Peter and Tony lift him out of the basin and set him on a pile of no doubt expensive, fluffy white towels. Tony takes the lead after that. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with the yapping, impatient puppy—even when Nugget tries to claw at him and shake himself dry, Tony never loses his cool.

A few minutes later they’re sitting on their stomachs watching Nugget stomp around on a blanket. There’s water in a bowl for him at one corner and a plate of chopped up chicken at another.

“I can’t take him home,” Peter says morosely after a few minutes. “May won’t let me keep him.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Where does she even think you are right now?”

“...In my bed.”

“Wow,” Tony says, deadpan. “Okay, well, I most certainly can’t keep him either.”

“What?! Why not?!”

Tony sighs. “I’m Iron Man, if you hadn’t noticed, kiddo—”

“Oh, what, so you’re too tough to look after him?”

“No, I’m too busy. I spend like, twenty-three out of twenty-four hours in a day in my shop and the rest of the time I’m on my knees apologising to Pepper and begging for forgiveness. There’s no time in-between to feed the pup, walk the pup—”

“I could come by,” Peter blurts. “Like, once a day, and I could make sure he’s eaten and play with him and stuff. You wouldn’t have to lift a finger—”

“Except to press ‘purchase’ on my shopping cart full of dog food—”

“Tony,” Peter cuts in, pleading, “please? I can’t just drop him off at some kennel so they can—” he covers the dog’s ears, “so they can euthanize him in a week when no one buys him. He deserves so much better, you know?”

Tony frowns, considering it, and Peter waits with his breath caught in his throat until, “God, fine.”

“Yes!”

“But! But! A pet is a serious responsibility, okay? You might as well be adopting a child—”

“What would you know about raising kids?” Peter asks, only jokingly, but Tony just stares and then, for some reason, smiles.

“You have to make sure he’s happy,” Tony says. “You have to be there for him in whatever way he needs, alright? I’ll set up a pen in the penthouse and you can make sure he works off his energy there, and if I have time I’ll even take you both to the park. And if he ever happens to pee on my carpet, I’m counting on you to clean it up.”

“Don’t you have, like, housekeepers for that sort of thing?”

“Yeah, but this is character building stuff.”

“Ugh, fine, I’ll clean up the pee.”

They continue to iron out the details for a while and bicker over whether Nugget’s last name should be Parker or Stark, and it’s only when Pepper walks in—still in her pajamas, bleary eyed and complaining that they woke her up—that they both decide it should be ‘Potts’.

—

5. (+1)

It starts with a headache.

He’s bent over his desk studying for a Calc test when the throbbing begins. It’s not so bad at first, but after a half hour or so his vision is swimming and he keeps having to take breaks to massage his temples and close his eyes. The equations are all blending together and he can’t think straight anymore.

Peter decides to give up right around then. After all, if he’s not gonna retain any of the information, why bother?

May pokes and prods through dinner. Peter tries to fool her by acting like everything is normal and okay and even manages to make her laugh once or twice.

Inside, dread is coiling through his stomach like an irritated snake. He knows what’s coming next; after all, he doesn’t really get sick anymore, so what else could it be?

Peter tries to sleep but ends up tossing and turning for most of the night. He falls into some kind of half-conscious daze at around four in the morning and rouses about twenty minutes later, soaked with sweat and aching everywhere.

Feeling like he’s gonna vomit, Peter kicks off his blankets and strips the sheets off his bed. He takes his shirt off because the fabric is too abrasive against his skin and it’s like he can feel every fibre tickling against it, grating and chafing. He curls up into a tight ball and covers his ears with his hands to block out the now amplified sounds of the city: car alarms, dogs barking, music playing.

Normally Peter loves the way New York is never silent. Now, he just wishes everyone would shut the fuck up for once.

When he stumbles out of his room a little while later, May is already gone. She’d told him the night before that she had an early shift and for once he’s actually grateful. Haltingly, Peter gets ready for school. He’s already skipped three days this month and if he misses this Calc quiz he’s gonna fucking bomb the class.

May would kill him.

It’s better to suffer a little than die.

Brushing his teeth makes his head spin and the minute he wriggles into his clothes he feels like a caged animal about to claw his skin off. Everything takes so much longer than normal. He doesn’t eat because the mere thought of food makes the back of his throat sting with bile.

On the train, he closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool glass of the window, trying to tune out the constant screeching of the rails. One day, on God, he will make it a personal project to oil every fucking line in the subway.

At his fifth stop, an old lady boards and all the seats are taken.

Peter swallows thickly and stands. Black spots dance in his vision and he grabs onto the overhead bar—something he hasn’t actually needed to use since he was a little kid—and tries not to pass out.

He almost misses the stop to get to school, but slips out at the last second, millimetres away from getting his backpack caught in the doors. Peter is hot all over and lightheaded as he makes his way out of the station. It’s even hotter up above, what with summer coming now and all.

Peter is late and he doesn’t need his watch to tell; Flash’s car is already parked out front instead of zooming through the drop off to run him over (which, hey, silver lining), and the majority of the student body is already inside.

Peter has to stop multiple times on his way to Spanish just to breathe. By the time he gets there he’s at least ten minutes late for roll call.

“Mr. Parker,” his teacher greets, unimpressed. “So glad you could join us.”

Peter makes a noise and takes the proffered quiz. He wonders absently why some people choose to teach. What is it, like, some kind of power trip for them?

He has five minutes to finish the quiz but doesn’t make it past the first question. Ned volunteers to collect them and stops at Peter’s desk while Professor Scott outlines today’s lesson plan.

“Dude,” he whisper-hisses, “you look like complete shit. What on Earth are you doing here right now?”

“Test,” Peter mutters dully, resting his cheek on his hand and closing his eyes. “Here you go. Didn’t finish it.”

Ned takes it carefully, holding it with two fingers like it’s covered in disease. “Do you want me to get the nurse or something?”

Peter hums. “No. Just… headache.”

Slowly Ned backs away. “Um—”

“Mr. Leeds!” Professor Scott says, loudly. Ned jumps. “Is there a problem back there?”

Yes, Peter thinks. You’re the human version of nails on a fucking chalk board. Please, for the love of all that is holy, just start on the vocab.

Only he accidentally says all of that out loud.

The whole class is staring. Flash is slack-jawed. Betty Brant’s eyes are the size of small moons.

“Parker,” Scott grits out—and Peter has denominated him to just Scott now out of reciprocation and spite; “You just earned yourself a shiny new detention. I’d like you to take this slip to the principal’s office. Please.”

Oh, thank God. At least it’ll be quiet there.

Peter stands and brushes past Ned and it literally feels like flames of hell are licking against his skin. He almost vomits. This is decidedly not good.

He takes the paper. “Gladly, good sir.”

When he’s gone, there’s an outburst of muttering that his enhancements let him hear. It only makes the overload worse. Peter covers his ears with his hands again and, overcome with a sudden wave of vertigo, ducks into the bathroom.

He barely makes it to the toilet before emptying his stomach of last night’s food.

Peter sags against the wall, panting. He keeps his eyes closed and waits for the world to stop spinning. About ten minutes later, the smell of jasmine shampoo—normally welcome—causes him to lean over and retch again.

MJ pokes her head inside the unlocked stall. “Jesus,” she whispers. The second her hands touch his body he flinches and she immediately retracts them. “Fuck, sorry. Ned said you wigged out in Spanish. I looked for you in the Principal's office but you weren’t there and... What’s—what’s wrong? I thought you couldn’t even get sick.”

“Bad headache,” he mutters, spitting into the toilet. It’s easier than explaining about his freakish mutations and how they sometimes go completely haywire, leaving him on edge and nauseous and irritable.

MJ grabs him some toilet paper to wipe his mouth with. “Did you take anything?”

“Pain meds don’t work on me.”

“Does May know? You should have called in.”

“Couldn’t. Can’t miss my test.”

She sighs. “Your final is like fifty percent of your grade and you could pass it with your eyes closed. You can miss your test, you’re just afraid of getting anything lower than an A.”

Peter is silent. “You got me there.”

MJ’s hand twitches like she wants to touch him but knows she can’t. “You need to go home. Lie down, get some rest.”

“May is working,” Peter says, “and if I have to take the subway again right now I’ll die. I really will. It’s so—the smell and the noise and I can’t sit down and—”

“Give me your phone.”

“What?”

“Just give it.”

She’s holding her hand out for it and giving him a no-nonsense expression that kind of reminds Peter of Pepper Potts on a rampage. He’s seen what happens to Tony when he crosses her, so he fishes his phone out of his pocket and hands it over.

“Hold on.”

She stands and leaves. Peter closes his eyes again. He tunes out her conversation because if he doesn’t, he’s absolutely gonna vomit again and nobody wants that.

MJ slips back inside the stall. “Okay, solved. Do you still feel like you’re gonna vomit?”

Peter thinks about it. “No.”

“Good. We’re gonna go to the nurse, okay?”

“Oh boy.”

—

Tony Stark walks into Peter’s school and finds the hallways empty. The classroom doors are shut and the muted sounds of teachers lecturing are the only signs that anyone is here at all.

He finds Peter in the infirmary, sitting on the examination table with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes.

He’s at his side in an instant. “Kid?”

It’s surprise that gets Peter’s eyes open, but the little spider baby immediately regrets it. He flinches and sucks in a sharp breath. “Tony,” he whispers, like the name is all he can manage and the questions will have to wait for later.

Tony looks him over. There are no obvious injuries. The girl on the phone had said it was just a headache, but Tony is way more experienced with Peter’s brand of bullshit and knows there’s usually something else going on beneath the surface.

“I’m gonna go talk to the nurse and then get you out of here, okay?”

A nod.

It’s always a bad thing when he doesn’t argue. Peter Parker would start a fight about what kind of pizza to order, even if you suggest the kind he really wants, just to be a stubborn little shit about things.

Tony slips out of the exam room. The nurse looks up when he enters her office. “Oh my—Mr. Stark?!”

“Yes, hello,” Tony takes a cautious step forward as she stands. He doesn’t bother to sit. “I’m here to pick up the little gremlin in there.”

Her face flushes. “I didn’t know you’d been called, I—I figured I would just let him wait it out, you know? He didn’t want to be touched, so it was hard to figure out what was up and—so it’s real? About the internship?”

“Of course. Why would he lie?”

She opens her mouth. Closes it. “Well… you know how kids can be.”

“Do I?”

She doesn’t seem to know what to say to that.

Tony sighs. “Look, Nurse—uh, Timms—Nurse Timms, can I please just sign the kid out and take him home? He’s clearly in pain here.”

She starts rifling through her desk for a form. “I mean, I can admit you to take him home, but I really suggest you talk with the principal first—Peter was given a detention before he was brought to my ward, see, and I was—” she shakes her head. “I thought he might be faking.”

Tony stares without blinking for a whole five seconds and then, “Detention? For what?”

“I heard he bad-mouthed a teacher or something. But to be fair, Professor Scott isn’t exactly what I’d call patient.”

“Well, be that as it may,” Tony takes the form she hands him to sign, “my kid doesn’t fake. He has a condition, see. Gets uh… overloaded. Sounds, smells, it can be too much for him. Probably why he snapped.”

“That… that makes sense.”

“Yes,” he says succinctly, and hands the paper back. “You’d know that if you bothered to ask. Anyway, I’ll be going. Thanks for the help, Nurse Times.”

“Uh, it’s—it’s Timms—”

The door shuts behind him.

—

MJ was forced to go back to class. She’d argued and protested but Nurse Timms was insistent. So, MJ had relented. She’d pressed the lightest of kisses on his forehead and it surprisingly hadn’t felt that bad, and then she’d gone.

Tony Stark had shown up about twenty minutes later and it’s just when Peter’s starting to think it was all just a vivid hallucination that the smell of coffee and motor oil fills his senses again. It’s overwhelming but not debilitating.

“Kiddo,” Tony whispers, “is it okay to touch you?”

Peter cracks an eye. Everything is bright but Tony’s suit is mercifully black, so he focuses on that. “I don’t know. I don’t wanna move.”

“Well I gotta get you outta here somehow.”

“But my detention—”

“I already got you out of it,” Tony says breezily. “Nothing to worry about.”

“Tony,” Peter says, cheeks flushing. “You can’t just bribe my principal into—”

“I didn’t bribe anyone. I just explained the situation and besides, Morita’s an old friend.”

Peter closes his eyes again as he frowns. “You’re friends with my principal?”

“I’m a benefactor for your school, too,” Tony says. “But don’t tell anyone, it’s a secret.”

Something shifts in the air. Tony is sitting now. “Happy’s waiting outside,” he says, “but whenever you’re ready.”

Peter thinks about it for a few seconds and decides it’s gonna have to happen at some point, anyway. Might as well rip the band-aid off now. Slowly he takes a deep breath and manages to sit up with Tony’s help. The older man tries to avoid touching him as much as possible, but surprisingly enough the weight of his hand against Peter’s spine isn’t crushing or aggravating. It doesn’t hurt.

“Baby steps,” Tony says softly. “We’ll take you out the side door, okay?”

Even getting to the door is slow going but Tony doesn’t seem to mind. Right before they open it, Tony stops and pulls his sunglasses off. “Here, try these.”

Peter puts them on. He feels ridiculous because like, they work on Tony who was literally born in the seventies, but Peter really doesn’t dig the groovy shades. Regardless they’re better than nothing and even help a little.

The halls are empty again. Most of the students will be in the gym right about now, or the cafeteria for lunch. They don’t run into anybody on the way out and as soon as they’re in the back of the car, Peter sags against Tony’s side. He feels like he’s just run ten miles.

“Drive, Hogan,” Tony says, and then the partition glides up.

For a few seconds it’s almost completely quiet. Noise suppression tech, Peter realises, and he feels like he could cry from relief. For the first time in hours there’s just… nothing. No traffic, no dozens of students talking at once. The air conditioning unit is filtered, so he’s not being attacked with the smell of body odour and clashing perfume scents and Axe cologne. There’s just Tony and beautiful, amazing, showstopping silence.

Tony shifts a little. “Better?”

Peter nods, figuring it’s still probably not safe to speak.

“We’ll be there soon,” Tony says softly.

—

Peter doesn’t remember much after the car ride. He can vaguely recall protesting getting out of the Audi, and he remembers Tony assuring him that everything would be okay, and the next thing he knows he’s lying on his back in an utterly dark bedroom. The walls are insulated just like the car had been, so there’s just no sound, and the bed sheets probably have the highest thread count of all time.

Something shifts beside Peter and he realises Tony is there, feeling his forehead.

“What—?”

“Oh, hey,” Tony greets. “I think you might’ve blacked out there. All the noise hit you at once when we got out of the car and you just…”

“I fainted?”

Tony snorts softly. “Relax. It happens to the best of us. How do you feel, Webster?”

Peter hums. “Bad.”

“Let’s try a scale of one to ten.”

“Okay,” Peter says. “Ten.” Tony lets out a little grunt at that and so Peter elaborates, “It was at like, a twenty this morning, so.”

“Ah, I see.” Tony’s grip shifts to Peter’s wrist to measure his pulse. “This okay?”

“It’s fine.”

And it really is. He doesn’t feel like burning his skin off or anything. Tony’s hands are just warm.

“Any idea what brought this on?”

Peter shifts a little. “I uh… haven’t been sleeping a lot lately.” He swallows. “Like, at all.”

“And how long’s that been going on for?”

“I don’t know. On and off for a few weeks, I guess.”

“Jesus,” Tony sighs and pulls his hand away. He rakes it through his hair. “Kiddo, what have we said about communication? Does May know?”

“....No?”

There’s a long pause where Tony just kind of sits there thinking, like he wants to say whatever comes next carefully. He massages his temples and then: “Alright, scooch over.”

“What?”

“Make room for me.”

Peter blinks and then, tentatively, scoots over a little to allow Tony room to lie down. The older man does, arching his back a little and grunting in pain because he’s like, ancient. They’re not touching, but very slowly Peter starts inching closer again. Eventually he works up the courage to try resting his head on Tony’s chest, which is terrifying not only because it’s Tony Stark, but also because he’d rather not have his brain implode.

Nothing happens. “Your fabric softener must be like, super expensive,” he whispers, because this is actually better than the sheets.

Tony snorts. “I’ll ask Pep about it.”

Peter makes a noncommittal noise and before he knows it, his eyes are closing. For once they actually feel heavy, and the steady rhythm of Tony’s heart beat is soothing, dependable.

Tony’s hands brush lightly over Peter’s hair and then thread through it. “Too much?”

“No,” Peter promises. “Good.”

And so Tony’s fingers run through his curls over and over, gently, lightly. His thumb sweeps over Peter’s cheek once, too, and then he starts muttering in Italian.

Peter cracks an eye. “Are you telling me your grocery shopping list?”

Tony laughs a little. “My mom used to do it for me,” he says. “Something about just hearing her speak the language made me feel… relaxed, I guess. Didn’t matter what she was saying.”

Peter smiles and wraps an arm around Tony’s torso. “Tell me something else.”

“You wanna hear about the time I almost blew up a Chem lab?”

“Uh, duh.”

So Tony launches into it, speaking in a low voice and absently twisting one of Peter’s curls around his finger. It feels nice and the headache is fading fast.

Peter sleeps. 

[matsuokaparadise]

Rin Matsuoka relationship hcs

This is quite the hefty post, since I’ve tried to cover as many aspects of the relationship as possible (both SFW and NSFW), but if any of you liked a particular (set) of hc(s), feel free to hit my ask box and I will elaborate on it/them with a drabble or maybe even a full-sized fic (if your patience is otherworldly). 

where does one even begin

this relationship would be full of everything from extreme sap, to extreme drama to extreme romance to extreme steam- literally nothing missing, aka you just can’t possibly get bored

you better expect this boi to go to the ends of hell for you because that’s exactly what he’s going to do and if you’re not ready to do the same for him you may walk yourself out the door, sir

also, a relationship with a world-class athlete ain’t easy- you have to brace yourself for a whole lot of time spent apart, not only because of his competitions and whatnot, but also because of his incessant training- an integral and necessary part of his career

but not only do you have to prepare yourself mentally for the long-distance-despite-not-being-long-distance aspect, you have to remember that he is constantly under massive pressure too 

being super clingy and complaining all the damn time is a massive no from your girl here 

but to get into the actual relationshippy things 

this boi would absolutely love the idea of matching jewellery 

you know the way he’s always wearing some sort of bracelet or necklace

yeah he’d totally get you two a bracelet or something after a good while of the relationship because-

-he’d also be the kind to take everything slow 

so he’s super passionate as we all know, but he’s not really a rash person 

he’s definitely grown a lot and I feel that many people actually keep labelling him as the dude he used to be when he was 17 and was a teeny tiny bit of an asshole 

however, he really thinks things through and realises the importance of pacing in a relationship

I mean yeah if you’re good with it early on it’s not like he’d wait 3 months to have sex or anything 

I just mean that he wouldn’t be throwing in unnecessarily grand gestures like saying I love you at 1 month and a half, especially if you haven’t even known each other that long, like you were just classmates or something for a year or so and then decided to date

in fact, during the relationship, he wouldn’t really drop the 3 words all that often I guess

it’s not really because he just gets flustered sometimes-he’s not 15 anymore-it’s actually because he strongly believes in their meaning and doesn’t want to trivialise it

I guess this is part of his Japanese side that hasn’t changed at all despite the foreign influence from early on in his life and also at present, at university

so when he says it, it’s a really important moment

that, or he’s just pent up so much love towards you that he just had to express it directly 

he’d be very good with words, though

as he still has this tendency to express his sentimentality rather indirectly, he has mastered the technique of making you feel things with simple words, but carefully chosen ones 

also, he’d be real big on affectionate gestures

this boi would really be the kind to gift you random things for absolutely no reason and buy you flowers

when he’s in public with you he wouldn’t really do more than hold your hand and occasionally give you a peck or something, 

but when you two are alone he’d really enjoy either lounging with you combing his hair with your fingers while he’s lying on your lap

or hugging you from behind when you’re doing random things just to surprise you and see your reaction

couple workouts! but fear not, not the cringe yoga and him doing push-ups with you on his back kind of workout- rather, him lending you a hand, sometimes jogging together and just generally the two of you doing your own thing together 

bonus: Rin stealing some appreciative glances at you amidst your intense workout session, which can either lead to a candid, loving compliment, or would trigger some ;;;;;) moment in him which will catch up on you unknowingly later during the day (or, should I say, night ;;;;) )

bonus x2: seeing him sweaty, panting and gawking in awe at his perfectly sculpted muscles which are flexing before your very eyes... damn 

one of his best looks would be his black tank top with a pair of sweats, a look he generally wears around the apartment and which, despite being as casual as you can get, is a genuine gift from God 

nevermind all of his very well coordinated looks which make all the lasses turn their heads on the street 

which brings me to-

-shopping dates and him helping you choose what to wear when you’re going somewhere

even though you’re not together at that moment, if you’re in a quandary as to what to wear for a specific event, snap him a few pics of the outfits, or just ask him directly (yes, he remembers what clothes you have- a scarily good ability) and he’ll give you a whole ass run down of why this one’s good but that one’s better etc etc

also, since we’re on the topic of pics;) 

this boi would LOOVE taking selfies with you! just imagine: two dorks making peace signs in the most adorable selfie ever 

he’d be a bit shy about using cute filters but you’d end up taking cat whisker selfies with him in no time 

but also

since the relationship involves so much time apart 

texting (and sexting) can be a really important part of your relationship (here you can read my Rin texting headcanons)

he’d make you feel like a goddess most of the time, because he really appreciates your hard work 

but whenever you’re in a slump he’d be your number 1 source of motivation

it’s really different when you see someone you don’t really know who becomes successful and whatever, but when the man you know so intimately and who you’re so close to is that person, achieving your goals really becomes more realistic 

after all, sometimes you need motivation from external sources too, there’s nothing wrong with that

a very healthy relationship indeed, you two would psych each other up and be there for each other, teach each other things and be an inspiration to one another 

but hey lemme give you some NSFW because I know you were looking for this part

i’m just gonna say this, Rin is a whole ass dom who really loves pleasing

and teasing 

so don’t expect anything without at least a little bit of teasing 

enjoys positions in which he can see you (and your facial expressions) properly, positions in which he can kiss you, nibble on your earlobe, you got it

not to say that he doesn’t enjoy taking you from behind

actually, do expect some nice desk/table/kitchen counter action 

he’s not vanilla but he’s not necessarily kinky either 

so he’d be up for the occasional roleplay, the occasional tying you up, occasional cosplay, you know

things he usually does include: biting (your neck, collarbone, ear, lip, thighs, sides of your abdomen), edging, breath play if you’re really into it, a lot of goddamn whispering in your ear and around your neck, does it make sense if I say suave dirty talk? like he wouldn’t use curse words, he’d just say things in such a manner that he’s using rather sweet words which end up sounding sexy and a bit indecent 

sex with him would definitely feel more like lovemaking rather than a good fucking if you get my gist 

aka imagine less of whatever porn scenario you have in mind with very rough handling and imagine more of a really jazzy kind of thing, even when you’re spicing it up with different things

actual rough sex with him would occur, but really not often at all

i guess i can narrow it down to passionate and extremely sensual 

the boi really gets off to your being extra pleased, so expect long sessions

get ready to be worshipped, you goddess, both in and outside of the bedroom

he probably won’t let this show too much, but he’s the kind who would be absolutely ruined if you broke up with him or things weren’t working well

but you’d never see that, because he’s matured a lot and he knows how to pull through difficulties

he’d cook for you super often! whether you know how to cook or not really doesn’t concern him because you bet he’ll wine and dine you all the freaking time 

and he’ll cherish whatever you cook, even if it’s some underdressed salad, or slightly overcooked eggs with toast

he really deserves all the love that he can get

the relationship definitely won’t be smooth, but it won’t lack in anything and it would only get better and better with time- it’s literally impossible to end up complacent with him because there’s always something new 

even the medium amounts of drama that arise only add to the amazing things this relationship has to bring 

kissing the tears off each other’s cheeks, frantic embraces, sometimes over-the-top, grand displays of affection after a long time of not having seen each other, or even small gestures that end up moving either of you to tears 

this would only be a glimpse into how the relationship would feel like with this absolute babe and sweetheart of a man

i could go on forever so please do ask for more of these