#I haven’t talked about swimming on here because i do not know a single person who normally follows speed swimming lol | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scarlettriot · 3 years ago

Text

Stood Up

Pairing: Sero/F!Reader

Summary: When you find your dating making out with someone else at a Halloween party, Hanta swoops in and reclaims your evening, rekindling an old flame.

Contains: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Demisexual Reader, Astronomy/Greek Lore Nerd Sero, Old flame

Warnings: 18+ Below the cut, Minors DNI! Swearing, Demi Problems, Praise/Smidge of Degradation, Name-calling (slut & whore), Pet names (Love, good girl, pretty girl), Car Sex, F Masturbation, Oral M Receiving (Road Head) I think that's everything

A/N: This took me much longer than I expected. It's also my first time writing Sero. Given the season, I decided to add a touch of Halloween and costumes to this one.

If you'd like to read other's in the Stood Up series, here are the links:

Stood Up - Bakugo - WC 3,502

Stood Up - Kirishima - WC 3,612

Stood Up - Kaminari - WC 2,461

Word Count Starting Below: 3,494

Denki Kaminari's annual Halloween bash was in full swing by the time Hanta had arrived. He'd come straight from patrol, wrapping himself up in his own tape making a half assed mummy costume for himself. Not like anyone would notice with the flashing colored lights, loud music, and abundance of liquor.

However, Hanta didn't even make it up to the double glass front doors of Denki's home. Not before doing a double take at the very familiar pirate that ran by him.

"Y/N?" You stopped allowing him the chance to catch up to you, "Holy shit, it is you, when the hell did you get back?"

Three years you'd been gone, working in America. Time differences and busy schedules made it so the two of you barely kept in touch. It was a shame, Hanta thought, considering how close the two of you used to be.

"I- uh- just a few weeks now. I heard you were helping out with the disaster relief after that storm."

It had to be his eyes playing tricks on him, the funny colors of the dancing lights were what made your cheeks look wet, right? Those couldn't have been tears.

"I was, yeah, but I got back yesterday. I didn't know-"

"Get the hell outta here!" His head snapped back towards the front of the house, just in time to see Eijiro, dressed in an impressive werewolf costume, literally throw someone out of the party. The guy drunkenly stumbled off, Eijiro walking over towards where Hanta was standing with you. "Y/N, you good?"

You nodded while Hanta tried to piece together what'd happened. "Sorry, it took me a second to find the bastard. Do ya wanna come back in? I'll make sure he leaves."

"No, Eijiro, thanks though. I'm just gonna head home."

The wolfman frowned but understood. "We'll have a smaller party for ya! Just the gang as a welcome home! You know Denki will look for any excuse to throw a party." He turned his gaze on Hanta. "A mummy, really?"

"You've been a damn werewolf for the last two years! You don't get to give me crap."

Eijiro poked the fuzzy pointed red ears carefully set into his spiky hair. "Mina and I worked real hard on this costume... seemed like a waste to only wear it once."

"We both know you haven't just worn those once, big man."

That got a chuckle out of you while all Eijiro could do was shrug and try to hide a shit-eating grin.

He asked you again if you'd like to stay and once more you said you were going to just head home. It was when you specifically said you were going to be walking home that Hanta spoke up offering to drive you back to your home since it was Halloween and people were creeps.

You were a damn pro hero but he still didn't feel right about just letting you walk home alone.

When you agreed he told Eijiro he'd be back soon and walked over with you to his car.

>>><<<

A part of you missed the old station wagon Hanta used to drive, not that this BMW he now drove wasn't absolutely amazing, you just sort of missed the comfort of the old car.

He waited until he'd reached the end of Denki's long, winding driveway to finally speak. "So, you wanna tell me what happened back there, or am I just supposed to pretend like Kiri didn't kick someone out on your behalf?"

"You could probably just ask Kiri and he'd tell you."

"I could, but, I'd like to hear it from you."

You knew you could tell him, there was nothing you couldn't tell Hanta. There was once a time when the man knew every single detail about your life. Sure, time and distance had put a strain on that relationship but you were back now. There was no reason why you couldn't at least start rebuilding what you and Hanta once had.

"Y/N, if you don't wanna say anything-"

"I was just casually seeing this guy. You know me and dating, how we don't always work out." You said abruptly and he quit talking, "And so, we weren't like official but we said we'd go to this party together. Well, I got here and went looking for him and found him making out with one of Hawks' sidekicks. I got a little upset when he noticed me and, well, he just said he found someone better."

Hanta actually stopped the car, pulled off to the side of the road, threw it in park, and looked right at you because he knew what found someone better meant exactly. You'd used those words in high school when that guy from Shiketsu that you'd been seeing got pissed off that you wouldn't put out and ended it with you. You went to his dorm crying because he 'found someone better', is what you told him. It took him a few hours to get the truth out of you.

You'd always been the kind of person to love with your entire heart but sexually, you'd confessed that you felt different from all the other kids your age back then. Not having the same urges and desires that everyone else seemed stricken with.

"Hanta, it's fine, really. Kiri heard the whole thing and, well, you saw what happened."

"Doesn't make it right! So, you went on a couple dates with a guy, that doesn't mean he just gets to expect you to put out for him! Even if you weren't demi, no one gets to just assume they deserve sex."

His lips were pressed in a narrow line, nostrils flared once in annoyance. He was usually so calm and laid back that you thought it rather cute when he got overprotective. "It's alright, Hants, really."

He still gave you a look that said he disagreed but then shook his head, dropping the subject for now at least.

"Still like those late-night drives?"

"I love them."

"Good."

Hanta waited for a car to pass and whipped the car in the other direction.

It wasn't long before he had the windows rolled down, conversations filling in the blanks of lost time, in between belting out choruses of your favorite songs. Minutes slipped by the further he drove, you lost track of both time and kilometers, letting him tell you all about the ridiculous antics the group had been up to.

Eventually, you caught the scent of salty air and even in the dark, you had a pretty good idea where Hanta was going. He followed a winding road, making two left turns and then a right leaving you on a stretch of road that paralleled the ocean.

You let your head fall against the seat, eyes falling shut and inhaling that wonderful smell you missed so much. Hanta had just one hand lazily on the wheel, his elbow resting out the open window, a relaxed smile was illuminated in soft orange lights off his dash.

You let your head roll onto his shoulder, not as easily done without the bench seat in his station wagon but it worked nonetheless. "Thanks."

His free hand came to rest on your knee, "Anytime."

He turned the wheel, pulling over and parking in front of a small beach access that you guys had found at 3 in the morning five years prior. Hanta kicked off his shoes, leaving them in the car to avoid them being sand-filled and you did the same with the knee-high boots purely because you longed to feel the sand between your toes.

The wooden planks were worn, parts buried beneath the sand until eventually, none remained. Breaking waves flooded your ears and you made a run for them! Before you could reach the lapping water though, tape had wound around your middle and yanked you backward.

"Not happening!" Hanta said firmly. "Last time I let you talk me into late-night swimming we didn't have a change of clothes either and we both got so sick! I think I might have actually died without Bakugo's soup!"

You chuckled, remembering being nineteen and curled up with Hanta on the sofa in the living room of the apartment you all shared for nearly a week. The sniffles didn't cease for almost three weeks.

"Okay, okay, no swimming." You flopped back down into the sand, his tape still attached meaning the cellophane hero was pulled down with you. "Tell me about the stars then, Hants. Who's out tonight?"

Astronomy was a hobby of Hanta's you learned about after moving into the dorms your first year. It wasn't uncommon to find him out on the roof most nights, laying on his back and looking up into the clear night sky littered with twinkling stars, usually with a joint pressed between his lips. It became almost a habit for him to grab you on his way up, pulling you along because you were more than happy listening to him tell you about each constellation and the stories behind them.

It was around this time of year, in your final year of high school; somewhere between him recalling the greek mythos of Aries and Sagittarius that you noticed your heart beating a little faster. You realized something had shifted between the two of you, and, holy shit, was this what it felt like to have a crush! When the hell did that happen?

You'd entrusted everything to Hanta back then, and now, laying in the sand shoulder to shoulder while he talked about Draco, that familiar feeling stirred again. You remembered what it was supposed to be like when you weren't forcing it for some random guy. How simple it was supposed to be.

You inclined on an elbow and he stopped mid-sentence. "Eh, everything alright?" You nodded but he looked anything but convinced, mirroring your position and asking you again.

It was easy for you to lean forward, to brush your lips against his for the first time in three years. And, when you pulled away, he looked about as shocked as he had the night you'd done it when you were eighteen.

"You- you still like me?"

When you left for America, you'd both agreed to put a pause on your sort of relationship. Free to date and screw whomever you pleased because three years was a long time and it just seemed like a fair decision to make. The realization that he might now have someone else special in his life dawned on you...

"Yeah but I totally understand if things are different now and I shoulda asked- oof!"

He kissed you so hard you toppled back into the sand, quick pecks, one right after another, ending them with a long one that nearly left you breathless.

"I didn't know how to bring it up. I didn't want to make you feel awkward about things or make you think I expected something. I thought that maybe since we didn't talk for a while your feelings might have changed."

"I can say with confidence they haven't."

"Thank fuck." He groaned and captured your lips in another searing kiss.

It was easy to lift his shirt off, the shreds of tape that remained were now covered with gritty sand that clung to your fingers as you traced the chest and torso you knew so well. Gliding over defined muscles, lingering on old scars and mapping out new ones he'd collected in your time apart.

His own hands were busy flicking open the brass fastenings of your corset, huffing about it being so much more difficult to get to your chest and something about it being very unfair.

By the time he'd undone the last one, bright headlights shown across the beach. "Shit."

Giggling ensued from the walkway and you both sighed, at least it wasn't the police or a hero patrol. Hanta gathered his shirt and ran back to his car with his hand in yours.

"I thought our days of being caught were over."

"At least it wasn't Mr. Aizawa this time."

A chill ran down your spine remembering the night and the lecture you'd received when your teacher had caught Hanta sneaking out of your room early one morning.

"So, uh, do you still plan on going to Denki's party?" You asked innocently enough but Hanta knew you far too well.

"I think I'm gonna miss it this year." His hand found a home on your upper thigh. "Apparently, you and I have a lot of catching up to do. Lost time to make up for and all that."

"Too bad you don't have that old station wagon anymore. If you did, we wouldn't have to wait to get back."

Dark eyes glanced over at you not so subtly parting your legs.

"I dunno. It's not too often I travel in the backseat of my own car but I've been told it's pretty roomy. Lots of legroom."

Your hand ran over your legs, dipping down to lightly brush your more sensitive parts, thankful you opted for the thin pair of black leggings rather than the dark skinny jeans. Your fingers danced again and this time you let a soft moan pass your lips. "Eyes on the road, Hants."

"That's a little hard to do when I've got you spread out in the passenger's seat." He grabbed your free hand and pressed it against the bulge in his pants. "You've got me distracted, filthy little woman."

You appreciated him testing the waters, a subtle way of checking if you liked those nicknames he used only in private with you, giving you a chance to protest if your likes had changed. They were one's that only felt right coming from him and you were eager to hear more.

Forgoing your own high, you leaned over the center console as best you could, undoing his belt first, followed quickly by his zipper letting his strained cock be free.

His grip tightened on your leg when you kissed the tip of him. "Just like old times, huh?"

A chuckle turned quickly into a moan, taking him in your mouth, pushing yourself further on his cock, fighting your gag reflex to get him down your throat. Hanta reclined his seat further, giving you more room to work with.

Your legs clenched tighter with every groan you pulled from him, wiggling your hips in the seat, letting a hand fall back between your own legs. There was an attempt of a moan around his cock when his fingers coiled in your hair. "Such a good slut. Keep fuckin' goin'." He let you continue at your own speed, needing to focus as best he could on the road rather than what you were doing but, damn, you were making that increasingly difficult.

He wasn't stopping you though. He rarely did. You'd sucked him off on countless drives before and only stopped when- "That's it." He lifted you off him by your hair at the same time he pulled off the road. There was a convenient turn-off, hidden by overgrown brush you noticed before he shut off the headlights.

Hanta took you by the chin, smearing drool. "Backseat, pretty girl." He reached into the glove box and pulled out a foil wrapper, "What do you say we test out that legroom?"

He wait to watch your smile grow wide before crawling into the back because he had to be the first to go if this had any chance of working. Once situated, pants under his thighs, he patted his lap for you to climb over.

You slid easily onto his lap, hands traveling up and over his shoulders, kissing hard while you rocked your hips against impossibly hard length.

There was so much comfort in the familiarity of him. It wasn't awkward to fall back into rhythm with Hanta, to remember that he loved the feeling of your nails dragging down his chest. And he was just as eager to get your shirt off, reach your breasts he'd missed so much, and get his tongue on your nipples.

Your head tipped backward, loving the pace he set, hips bouncing creating the perfect tug on your nipples between his teeth.

"Love, if I promise to buy you a new pair, can I rip these damn leggings? They're just so thin and-"

"Please." Your breathy moan had him smirking and with a single grunt the leggings were ruined, cool air from the vents had only a moment to touch your bare ass before Hanta's hands reclaimed it.

There was no way he hadn't felt your arousal before ripping your clothes off, you soaked through your panties and leggings, you knew that, but that didn't stop him from commenting on how soaked you were now on his fingers. "Want me inside you, whore? I think you do."

You nodded with a whimper and he slipped a finger in. "Hants, noo- I- I want your cock, please."

"You're gonna take my fingers like a good little slut first." You clenched at the words falling from his mouth. "So fuckin' tight you can barely take a finger. How'm I supposed to fit in here if you can even take a single finger? Need you to loosen up, alright." He pushed another finger in, scissoring the two inside you.

"This gonna make you cum? You need this bad, don't you? Tell me. Tell me how bad you need to cum."

"I want it. Please, please, I need it. I'm so close," You babbled and ripped the foil open with his teeth, rolling it with one hand on his cock. In an instant, his fingers had been replaced with this dick. Sticky fingers on your ass helping you ease down on him with a hiss.

"Fuck," Hanta let out a throaty chuckle, "You still fuckin' feel the absolute best." He dropped a kiss between your breasts, letting you adjust to his girth. "Perfect. Good girl. Such a fuckin' good little slut."

He wasn't about to last long. Not once you started bouncing up and down on him, your tits right in front of his face.

"Couldn't even wait for me to get you home, had to fucking tease me in the damn car." He held onto the fat of your ass, pulling you along him and slamming you down hard.

"Kinda pathetic how desperate you are. Fuck. Kinda hot too."

When the top of your head bumped the roof of the car, he scooted lower, trying to give you as much room to ride him however you pleased.

"What do you need? You wanna cum, don't you, pretty girl, what do you need?"

"Faster, faster please."

Hanta shifted even lower, making you grab onto the two headrests while he thrust his hips up into you at a rapid speed. His thumb on your clit was the additional stimulation you needed to fall over the edge. Nails clawing at the black leather as he continued to moan below you now chasing his own release.

You stayed poised above him, using every last bit of strength to stay upright until his mouth was rambling and his cock pulsed inside of you. Fingers bruising your skin before holding your pelvis snuggly against his.

He was bent in a way that looked entirely uncomfortable and yet he still smiled so widely. Reaching up to brush hair out of your eyes, "You okay?"

"Perfects, Hants. A little sore but I'm sure you are too." He moved off his lap, letting him slip out of you with a groan, "Is your neck gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine. Having you back, love, is more than worth a little bit of a neck cramp."

As he tied a knot in the condom, depositing it into a plastic bag he had tucked away under his seat, Hanta raised a brow, "Love, really, are you alright? Please, tell me if I hurt you at all."

"No! I'm good, why?"

"You're sitting silly."

You were sitting a little odd, perched on your knees rather than sitting on your ass because the leather was chilly and you told Hanta as much making him laugh. "Wait, I think I can help." He leaned back to the front of the car, flicking a button making it glow. Once he tucked himself back in his pants he hopped out of the car and you could see him rummaging in his trunk through the rear window.

"I keep forgetting to take this out from our camping trip a couple months ago. Guess it turned out to be a good thing." He laid the blanket down over the passenger's seat, declaring that should help a bit.

You wrapped the now toasty warm blanket around your bottom half while Hanta drove back towards the city, your head on his shoulder, his hand on your thigh.

"So, shopping tomorrow? I believe I owe you a pair of leggings..."

"It's a date."

#mha #mha smut #bnha #bnha smut #hanta sero #sero #sero smut #hanta sero smut #sero x reader #sero x y/n #hanta x y/n #hanta x reader #mha x y/n #mha x reader #smutober #kinktober 2021

577 notes · View notes

junghelioseok · 4 years ago

Text

heart-on.

↳ your one-night stand definitely isn’t relationship material, but maybe—just maybe—your manager’s son is.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ smut | strangers to lovers!au ◇ 10.1k [1/1]

❛❛ my boss is always telling me how perfect her son would be for me and she promises he’s coming to the next holiday party and don’t worry he’s heard all about me too and ALSO there’s this dude i slept with once a couple of months ago and sometimes he still sends me dick pics when i ask him to at 3 in the morning cause seriously dude’s got a good dick ❜❜

notes: welcome to the first installment of the serendipity series! we’re starting with hoseok, because, well, have you met me? 🤣 be warned, however, that this isn’t anywhere near as edited as i’d like so i’ll probably give it another read/edit tomorrow but for now!!! here it is!!!

⇢ series masterlist. | inspired by this post.

warnings: dirty talk bc hoseok’s got a bit of a mouth on him, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, kids!), sexting. dick pics, obvi. brief mention of a dead pet goldfish :(

You’re refilling your mug when you hear it. Voices filter out from the kitchen, floating past the coffee station where you’re pouring yourself another drink and hanging in the open air of the hallway that leads back to the rest of the office. They’re familiar voices, too—voices that belong to the resident gossips of your workplace. Lottie’s pitchy, nasal tone melds with Hyejin’s higher one, their conversation interrupted every so often by an exaggerated exclamation or gasp from Sandra, the third and final member of their trio.

“Haven’t you heard? Carolyn’s divorce was finalized over the weekend, the poor thing.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine how she’s feeling. I mean, getting back into dating at her age? Goodness!”

“And now she’ll be all alone at the holiday party, too. How sad is that?”

“It’s tragic. Poor thing.”

Rolling your eyes, you grab a packet of sugar and tear it open, upending it over your mug and watching the crystalline granules fall into the dark liquid within. You know for a fact that Sandra and her husband can’t even stand to be in the same room for an extended period of time, considering how they’d spent most of last year’s holiday party talking to entirely different groups of people. You’d sat two tables away from them during dinner, and they hadn’t even made eye contact once. And as for Lottie and Hyejin, well, you’re certain that their relationships aren’t much better. All three of them are miserable people as far as you’re concerned, and you make a mental note to check in on Carolyn—a sweet woman in her thirties who always keeps chocolate bars in her purse—on your way back to your desk.

“Sheesh. Vultures, the lot of them. Don’t you think?”

You whirl at the sound of your manager’s voice. Kyunghee Jung is a dark-haired woman in her late fifties, and she laughs when she sees your startled expression, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Easy! You’ll spill your coffee if you’re not careful.”

“I’ll probably have a heart attack first,” you reply, pressing a hand to your chest. “What was your job before this? Some kind of intelligence operative? Are you a super spy?”

Kyunghee laughs again and joins you at the counter. “Nothing even remotely as exciting as that,” she answers, plopping her mug down beside yours. It’s decorated with what looks like every color of the rainbow, a massive smiling sunflower taking up the majority of the surface, and the only remnant of the ceramic’s original color is on the very edge of the handle where there’s a lopsided little patch of white. The piece is clearly handmade, and a stark contrast to the simple mint green cup that houses your coffee. Looking at it, it’s impossible not to smile.

“I love that,” you remark, inclining your head at her mug. “Was it a present from one of your kids?”

“Hoseok,” she confirms, running a fingertip along the imperfect handle fondly. “I’ve told you about him before—he’s right around your age.”

You chuckle. “Right, I remember. That’s why he’s the perfect match for me, right?”

“Come now, there’s more to it than that,” Kyunghee defends, waving a hand. “But yes, to answer your question. He gave it to me as a birthday present when he was eight.”

“Well, you never told me he was an artist,” you tease. “Does he have an Etsy? Can I buy one of these off him? Does he do custom orders, maybe?”

Normally, your manager is more than happy to play along with your jokes, but today Kyunghee fixes you with an uncharacteristically serious look. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” she asks. “He’s coming to the holiday party, after all. I figured you could finally meet.”

You blink. Kyunghee has been making offhand remarks about how well you would get on with her son, Hoseok, for over a year now, but you’ve never even come close to broaching the topic of meeting him. You don’t even know anything about the man beyond the fact that his name is Hoseok and that he works somewhere downtown. He also favors tall socks and yellow suspenders if the framed photograph on Kyunghee’s desk is any indication—or at least, he certainly did when he was still in diapers. Whether he still does, is anyone’s guess.

“Wow, I had no idea he was even interested in coming,” you manage when you’ve recovered from your surprise. “Did you bribe him?”

If Kyunghee notices that your voice is a few pitches higher than usual, she doesn’t remark on it. “Oh, you know. I just told him that this would be his last chance to score free booze on the company’s dime.” She laughs. “Three more months and it’s going to be all beaches and sunshine for me. I might even become a cruise person in my retirement.”

You gasp and slap a hand to your heart. “Kyunghee! Think of the environmental impact!”

“I said I might!” she retorts immediately. “Sheesh. Even in my old age, it’s hard to conveniently forget how shitty and unsustainable those damn boats are.”

You pick up your mug and raise it in a salute. “Well, the oceans thank you.”

“My husband doesn’t,” she answers with a sigh. “He’s been dying to book one of those trips that stop all along the Mediterrannean coastline, and I can’t exactly blame him.”

“That is tempting,” you admit. “You’ll have to send photos, if you do end up going.”

“You’ll be sick of me and my photos before the first day is even up,” she promises. Then she pauses, her eyes darting toward the kitchen where silence has fallen in the last few minutes. “Speaking of being sick—you think the vultures are still hovering around in there? I haven’t had lunch yet, and I need the microwave.”

Obligingly, you edge a little closer to the kitchen doorway and poke your head around the frame, scanning for Lottie and her sidekicks. “Coast is clear. Enjoy your lunch, Kyunghee.”

She nods and raises her mug at you, returning your salute. “I always do.”

///

As soon as the work day ends, you fall into your usual routine. Your commute home is easily walkable on nicer days, and though the winter weather is brisker than you’d like, you decide to walk for the sake of stopping at the convenience store on the corner of the block.

Once you arrive back at your apartment, you change into your comfiest sweats and a loose tee. You turn on some music while you throw together some dinner, and settle onto the couch half an hour later with a full plate and Netflix. Television is a welcome distraction from the events of the workday, and you manage to get through three full episodes of your current show before your pesky brain decides to revisit the events of today, replaying the conversations that you’d both had and overheard.

There’s no denying that you’ve been single for quite some time now, and for the most part, it’s been by choice. Ever since graduating from university, you’ve chosen to focus more on your career, and it’s paid off both in terms of the important position you hold in your company and your above average salary. And yet, you can’t help but think back to the gossip you’d overheard earlier—about the supposed tragedy of being single and attending the upcoming holiday party alone. Your mind wanders to Kyunghee’s son, Hoseok, and how he’ll be in attendance this year. You wonder what he’s like, and whether he really is perfect for you, as Kyunghee seems to be so fond of mentioning.

And then your mind goes to Jay.

You met Jay two months ago, on a well-deserved night out after a hellish workweek. The bar was crowded, and the music coming from the neon dancefloor in the back was just loud enough to drown out your inhibitions. That, combined with the alcohol swimming through your system, made you bold. You sashayed your way across the dancefloor, dodging inebriated bodies and swaying limbs as you fixed your attention on the head of pale lavender hair and deliciously broad shoulders that awaits you just behind the bar counter. The bartender is nothing short of gorgeous, and you’ve thrown all caution to the wind. Sure, several other women are eyeing him like he’s their next meal—several men are, too—but you need another drink. And while he prepares it, you plan to flirt.

A lot.

The bar counter is sticky with spilled liquor, but you don’t pay that any mind as you lean across it, the wood digging into the narrow strip of exposed skin left by your cropped top. “Hi!” you call, and the bartender looks up from where he’s just finished pouring a round of shots for a group of raucous young men.

“Hi yourself,” he says, his pillowy lips stretching into an easy smile. “What can I get you?”

You pretend not to notice the way his eyes flicker down to the dip of your cleavage and instead put on the sultriest smile you are capable of mustering. “Vodka soda,” you tell him, injecting a bit of purr into your voice. “A bit of lemon too, if you have it.”

“Trust me, I have it,” he assures, his smile growing as he reaches for a clean glass and a clear bottle. “Name’s Jin, by the way. I’m here all night, if you need anything e—”

A loud clatter and the sound of breaking glass interrupts the rest of his sentence, and all eyes at the bar go to the source of the disturbance. Conversations stutter to a halt, and even the thumping bass of the music seems to dull. Jin darts to the other end of the bar, where you can see that one of several barstools has fallen to the ground. There’s a man on the ground as well, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled dark liquor, and your eyes widen when you realize that you know him.

And arguably, a little too well.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. People are starting to lose interest in the spectacle, turning back to their own conversations and continuing on as if nothing had happened at all. The man is beginning to clamber to his feet, and a few people lend a helping hand as Jin begins barking out orders for everyone to step back so he can sweep up the broken glass. You seize upon the opportunity, latching on to the nearest arm and pulling them close so you can hide behind them. Vaguely, you’re aware of them sputtering in surprise, but you only have eyes for the man who had fallen off his stool, watching him carefully as he brushes himself off and tries to play it cool despite the sizable patch of whiskey soaking his white shirt.

“Hey, uh…” Your human shield is speaking. “Are you okay? You’re squeezing me pretty tight.”

That draws you out of your daze. Abashed, you loosen your grip on his arm and look up into his face, your throat going dry when you realize how handsome he is. His black hair is parted over his forehead, a stray strand falling into warm brown eyes set above a straight nose and an inviting mouth. There’s a freckle above his top lip, just shy of the center, and your inebriated brain wonders just what it would be like to kiss it.

“I, um—” You clear your throat and try again. “Sorry about that. I just didn’t want him to see me.”

Your newfound companion raises an eyebrow and glances over his shoulder at the drunk man, who is now being ushered out of the bar by his buddies. “You know that guy?”

You nod, cringing. “Yeah, his name’s Trent. I… may or may not have dated him for a few months last year.”

The man laughs out loud. “You dated a Trent?”

“What, like you’ve never made a questionable life choice?” you challenge. “Besides, you shouldn’t judge someone based on the sins of their parents. It’s not his fault they gave him a terrible name.”

“Sure, but it is on him for going along with it,” he replies with a shrug. “I would’ve changed my name as soon as I could if my parents had named me Trent. But hey, that’s just one man’s opinion.”

You laugh. “Okay then, Not-Trent.” Relinquishing your grip on his arm, you let your fingers graze his hand before pulling away entirely. “What do you say we continue this conversation over a drink?”

The man, whose name is decidedly not Trent, catches your fingers in his and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Happily.”

One drink turns into two, and then three. By the end of the hour, you are feeling pleasantly warm, the alcohol spreading through your veins like molasses and turning your surroundings into a hazy blur. The music has grown even louder, pounding against your eardrums, and you grab onto Not-Trent’s wrist as he sets his now-empty glass back down onto the counter.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, raising your voice to be heard over the thumping bassline. “I can’t even hear myself think.”

“The parking lot’s out back,” he suggests. “Why don’t we get some air?”

You nod and stand up on wobbly legs, cursing your decision to wear heels when you stumble into your companion. He steadies you with a gentle but firm hand, and you don’t miss the way his touch lingers on your lower back, his palm warm through the material of your blouse.

Together, the two of you pick your way through the throng of swaying bodies on the dancefloor. The bassline thuds in your ears, dark and hypnotic, and you can feel the reverberations thrumming across the slats of your ribs and echoing in the cavern of your chest like a second heartbeat.

It’s almost a relief, then, when you step out into the cool night air. Your ears continue to ring for a few seconds, but it soon fades and leaves behind only the muted hum of traffic from the street and the faint sound of music from inside. At your side, Not-Trent releases a long breath and leans against the brick wall of the building, and you turn to take in the steep slopes of his side profile as he tilts his head up toward the velvety night sky.

He’s handsome. Dressed in ripped jeans and black leather, he’s a sight to behold, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been craving a bit of intimacy for quite some time now. The alcohol swimming through your system makes you bolder than you normally would be, and you reach out to lay a hand on his arm. He turns toward you with a silent question glimmering in his irises, but you simply step closer, until you’re pinning him against the wall with your body and you’re breathing the same air.

“Hey,” you say, your voice an airy whisper. His eyes are near obsidian in the dimness of the parking lot, illuminated only by the orange glow of the streetlamps on either end, and your gaze flickers down to his mouth before roving to the freckle that sits upon his top lip. “Kiss me?”

Your companion’s eyes widen. His lips part, but no words come out, and you’re about to repeat your question when he finally finds his voice again.

“That’s really… that’s not a good idea.” Awkwardly, he clears his throat, but the hoarseness of his voice and the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple give away his true desires. “Look, you’ve been drinking. We both have, and—”

You cut him off, pushing up to your tiptoes and planting a messy kiss to the soft dip just beneath his bottom lip. “Don’t care,” you mumble against his skin. “I want you.”

Your companion laughs weakly. His hands find their way to your waist and pause there, as if he can’t decide whether to push you away or pull you closer. “You don’t even know me,” he murmurs.

“I don’t have to know you,” you reply. Your fingers drag down his chest, trailing along the delicate silver necklace that rests against the black of his shirt. From the chain hangs a round pendant, the surface engraved with the letter J. Slowly, you trace it with a fingertip, the metal shining even in the dim light, and satisfaction blooms in your heart when your companion’s throat bobs again. “I want you,” you breathe, soft but insistent. “Isn’t that enough?”

“I—” He clears his throat and tries again, and you wonder if he realizes that his hands have slid down to your hips, or that there’s a growing hardness against your lower stomach that’s becoming increasingly harder to ignore. “Look, I’m flattered—really, I am. And you’re… I mean, fuck, you’re gorgeous. But I don’t think we should do anything when you’re clearly not in the right frame of mind to be making this kind of decision, and—”

“And, nothing.” You wind your arms around his neck, pressing close and grinding subtly against the bulge in his pants. You smirk when he releases a low hiss from between his teeth, and hide it by laying a trail of kisses along the stretch of bare skin exposed by the dip of his collar. “Stop being such a gentleman,” you whisper. Your fingers trail down his chest, past the silver of his pendant and down to the faded denim of his jeans, teasing at the cool metal of his belt buckle. “I want this. But if you’re not interested, I can always go back in there and—”

The rest of your sentence dies in your throat. Your companion has tugged you flush against him in one smooth motion, and your gasp is cut off by the firm press of his mouth against yours. Immediately, you melt into the kiss, and a moan tears from your lips when he spins you around and pins you against the brick wall of the building.

“You’re a spoiled little thing, huh?” His breath fans hot against your cheeks, and you shiver when you meet his eyes and see the dark promise reflected there. “Used to getting what you want, huh, princess?”

Your breath hitches at the endearment—something your companion doesn’t miss. “Oh, you like that?” He chuckles hoarsely, and when he speaks again it’s in a rasp that sends heat straight to your core. “What else do you like, hmm? You want me to be rough with you, princess? Or should I be gentle and treat you like a queen?”

You reach up, raking your fingers through his hair and skimming across the soft strands of his undercut before finding purchase at his nape. “You talk too much,” you whisper.

And then you’re crushing your mouth back against his, whining when he immediately takes back control of the kiss. His grip slides downward, his fingertips digging into the skin just above the curve of your ass, and you squeak when he grabs the back of your thigh and hooks your leg around his waist.

“You feel that?” he rasps into your ear, nipping at the delicate shell and chortling when you keen. Your skirt has ridden up dangerously high on your spread thighs, and you let out a soft whimper when he grinds harshly against your center. The lace of your panties and the denim of his jeans are the last barricades between you, and you wonder, vaguely, whether your companion has a bit of an exhibitionist streak when he slides one of your sleeves down your shoulder and begins kissing a trail down to the swell of your cleavage. “You feel how hard you’ve gotten me?”

You lean down, kissing the soft spot where his jaw meets his ear before letting your teeth graze against his skin. “Why don’t you do something about it then?”

He hisses out a sharp breath, his hands tightening their hold on your hips. “You’ve got quite the mouth on you, huh? I can’t wait to make you eat your words.”

Any retort you may have had is interrupted by a sudden swell of music and the sound of a slamming door. Whirling to face the source of the noise, you immediately spot a familiar head of lavender hair atop broad shoulders encapsulated in the black uniform of the bar. Jin hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, his attention fixated on his cell phone screen, but he looks up when you let out a little squeak of surprise and shove your companion’s chest in an attempt to create some distance between you.

“Hey.” Jin raises a hand in greeting, a knowing smirk curling his lips. “This phone call shouldn’t be too long, so please. Don’t stop the party on my behalf.”

Heat floods to your cheeks. There isn’t much use protesting against his insinuation, considering the rather compromising position you’re in. Much to your relief, though, your companion simply huffs out a chuckle and waves Jin off. “Thanks, man, but we’ll get out of your hair.” Lowering his voice, he turns back to you. “Coming, princess?”

You nod. He offers you his hand, and you take it gratefully, adjusting your skirt so that it drapes properly over your hips and thighs again.

“Have a good night!” Jin calls after you, amusement lacing every word. You can’t work up the nerve to respond, and luckily, you don’t have to. Your companion leads you around the corner of the building, where several rows of cars are parked beneath an orange streetlamp. On this side, the exterior brick wall is painted with a mural, and you admire the colorful galaxies and nebulae swirling amidst silvery white stars and the word serendipity spray-painted in pale blue.

The last car in the row is parked just beneath the letter Y, and it’s here that your companion stops. The sleek black vehicle has an almost vintage feel to it, and you glance up when you hear the jingle of metal.

“I’m guessing this is yours?”

He nods, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and inserting one into the lock. “Yeah. You like it?”

“It’s beautiful,” you tell him, tracing the edge of the passenger window “Makes my car look like a total piece of shit by comparison.”

Your companion chuckles, pulling open the driver’s side door, and you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the window as he presses a button to unlock the rest of the doors. Your hair’s a bit of a mess and your mascara has smudged beneath your right eye, and you hurriedly swipe at it as your companion turns his attention back to you.

“So,” he says. “Now what? I can give you a ride home, if you want.”

Deliberately, you let your gaze drop down to his crotch, where his bulge—albeit waning—is still visible. “Seriously? I thought you were going to… what was it again? Make me eat my words?”

And just like that, it’s as if a switch has flipped. His eyes darken to obsidian, his lips settling into a stern line, and you barely have time to draw in a breath before he’s caging you against the side of his car and molding his mouth to yours. Your lips part beneath the onslaught, and he wastes no time in dipping inside to explore, licking into you until you’re both breathless.

“Inside,” he breathes once you’ve broken apart, and you instantly obey. You wrench the door open and all but tumble into the backseat, and he isn’t far behind as he slots himself between your spread thighs. Your hands fly to his shoulders where you help him shuck off his leather jacket, tossing it carelessly to the front where it lands in a heap on the dashboard before focusing your attention on the hem of his black t-shirt. Your companion obliges you as you push it upward to expose his toned abdomen, grabbing it by the collar and pulling it off the rest of the way when your reach falls a little short in the cramped interior of the backseat.

“Your turn,” he whispers when you try to reach for his belt, his hands settling around your wrists. “It’s only fair, princess.”

Pouting, you let your hands fall limp in his grasp, and he chuckles as he leans down to pacify you with a kiss. Deft fingers find the hem of your blouse, pushing it up until you can twist out of the material. You throw it aside with no regard for where it lands on the ground, and lay back as your companion drinks you in, his dark gaze raking across the lacy black lingerie that decorates your curves and skims you like a second skin. “Fuck,” he breathes, his voice hoarse with a combination of amazement and disbelief. “You’re stunning.”

You smile, trailing a fingertip from the dip of his collarbone down to the silver necklace that sits prettily against his bare chest. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you tell him, tracing the letter engraved into his pendant. “Jay.”

Your companion—newly dubbed Jay—smiles back. “You’re something else, princess,” he murmurs, before leaning down to kiss you again. He explores your mouth thoroughly—languidly—before moving down to nip at your neck, and already, you can feel the beginnings of marks beginning to form, blossoming across your skin as irrefutable proof of your tryst.

It isn’t long before Jay frees you from your bra, watching with carnal fascination as your breasts spill out of the lacy material. You whine when he reaches out to cup one, his palm hot against your bare skin, and he smirks crookedly when a pinch to your nipple makes your back arch off the leather of the seat. “So pretty,” he rasps. “I can’t wait to see how you look stretched around my cock.”

“Stop waiting, then,” you tell him, trying again for his belt buckle. This time, he lets you fumble it open, leaning back to watch you work with hooded eyes and a lazy little smile. Emboldened, you push aside the denim of his jeans and free his cock from the confines of his underwear. He’s hard and hot and heavy in your palm, and your tongue darts out instinctively at the sight of the pearlescent precum beading the tip.

“Jay,” you murmur, thumbing across the head of his erection and smirking when he hisses in pleasure. “Fuck me.”

Jay seems to consider your demand, mischief flitting across his features before he manages to school his expression into something more neutral. “Where are your manners, princess?” he asks, pushing your hand away and giving himself a few long, slow strokes. “Say please, if you want it so bad.”

For a moment, you consider refusing. Jay seems to be the type of man who enjoys a good game, but between the state of his cock and the earlier interruption, you’re pretty sure he’s nearing his limit. And even if he isn’t, you are. And so, you shelve your pride for the time being, and trail a hand down the length of your bared body as you bat your lashes up at him. “Fuck me, Jay,” you repeat. “Please. Want your cock so bad.”

His answering smile is equal parts amusement and satisfaction, and altogether sinful. “That’s my girl,” he rasps, before shoving your panties aside. Lining the head of his cock up, he enters you in one smooth thrust, and you moan as your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. You’re more than wet enough to take him in his entirety, your eyes fluttering shut when he bottoms out, and he groans hoarsely as he takes a second to relish the feeling of your walls gripping him so tightly.

“Fuck. You’re so wet, princess.” Jay dips a thumb into your slick, spreading it across your clit and rubbing a few experimental circles around the sensitive nub. He groans when you clench around him, his hips stuttering, and you squeeze around him again just to hear him grit out another curse. “Shit. I’m not going to last long at this rate.”

“Don’t care,” you murmur, rocking against him and sighing when the motion sends him a little deeper into your core. “Just fuck me, Jay. Please.”

Jay leans in, a dark lock of hair falling across his forehead as he plants an indulgent kiss on your waiting mouth. “Anything for you, princess,” he breathes. Slowly, he pulls back until only the tip of his cock remains inside you. Then he’s slamming forward, and you can’t even find it in yourself to care about the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin or the way the car rocks. Jay’s thumbing across your clit in tight circles that he times perfectly with the rock of his hips, and you wonder whether the rapidly building pleasure in your belly is due to your dry spell or if he’s just that good. You can feel every inch of him as he fills you up repeatedly, his brows furrowed in concentration and his dark hair flopping as he drives deeper in search of the spot that will have you seeing stars.

You know he’s found it when the pleasure in your belly spikes, your back arching off the backseat. Your skin is sticky against the dark leather and you’re certain the sweat gathering at your temples has destroyed the last of your makeup, but Jay alleviates your concerns with a particularly well-timed thrust and a harsh nip to the soft spot at your clavicle. You keen out something unintelligible, and his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Cum for me, princess.”

That’s all it takes for the mounting pressure to snap. Your body collapses into a searing orgasm, the pleasure flaring out like a supernova and spreading through your veins like wildfire. “F-fuck, Jay—” you gasp, your fingers scrabbling at his back for purchase and no doubt leaving scratches in their wake. “Fuck, you feel so—”

The remainder of your words trail off into garbled nonsense, and Jay huffs out a strained chuckle as he begins chasing after his own orgasm, rutting against you in a way that both prolongs your pleasure and sustains his own. “Shit,” he groans, his eyes fluttering shut. “Fuck, that’s it. Look at you—taking my cock so well. So pretty and perfect and—”

Whatever he was going to say dissolves into a groan as he gives a few more erratic thrusts before his release overwhelms him. Creamy warmth floods through you, and you rub his back tiredly as his head drops onto your shoulder, his breath flaring hot against your skin as he rides out his orgasm.

It takes several long seconds for the pleasure to recede. Your legs are still shaky when Jay pulls away, straightening up and tucking himself back into his jeans. There’s an empty ache in your core now that you are no longer stuffed full of his cock, and already, you are missing the feeling. Still, you push that aside as you sit up, adjusting your panties and wincing at the wetness that soaks the material and sticks to your skin.

“So,” Jay says after a moment’s silence, and you glance over at him when he huffs out a short chuckle. “That was fun.”

“Not bad at all,” you agree weakly, an irrepressible smile tugging at your lips.

Jay grins. It’s a bright, infectious grin—and it’s one that you’ve already grown rather fond of in the short period of time you’ve known him. It’s a grin that showcases his perfect teeth and crinkles his eyes into crescents, and one that all but forces you to grin back.

“Here, give me your phone,” he says, and you watch as he punches in his number once you hand it over. “Just in case you ever wanna do this again,” he tells you, handing it back. “Don’t be a stranger, princess.”

You glance down at his contact information, saved under the moniker you’d given him and affixed with a short string of emojis. “I won’t,” you tell him, chuckling. “In fact, I just might take you up on the offer.”

The screen of your laptop has long since gone dark, and you stretch your arms overhead before waking it again. Rolling your shoulders, you navigate back to the main Netflix menu, hovering over the resume button and watching the trailer loop in the background.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about Jay often. You’ve texted each other quite often since that night in his car—usually when you’re bored and alone and have had a few too many glasses of wine in the evenings. You’ve found yourself tapping on his name instinctively during those odd, ambiguous hours—when late night and early morning meld together and you’re aching for a bit of relief.

And as if he knows you’re thinking about him, your phone buzzes against the coffee table, the screen lighting up with a familiar name.

[11:22pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinkin about u, pretty girl 😘

It’s followed by an image, and your heart rate picks up, thudding loudly against your ribs as you open it.

Fuck.

Your memories of Jay’s face—made all the more hazy by the alcohol and the amount of time elapsed since your first and only meeting—truly don’t do him justice. Though the photograph cuts off just above his nose, you can still admire the sharp angle of his jaw and the fullness of his puckered lips. His skin is golden against the white of his t-shirt, and you lick your lips before thumbing across your screen to respond.

[11:23pm] You: yeah? what else are you thinking about, hmm?

His response is instantaneous.

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: thinking about that pretty little pussy of yours

[11:23pm] Jay 😘🍆💦: how good it looked in that pic u sent me tuesday 👅

You barely even notice the way your hand begins trailing down your body, pushing aside the elastic waistband of your sweats. It’s as if you’re on autopilot, as your fingers find their way to the damp spot growing on your panties.

Yeah? you write back with your free hand, already teasing at your clothed folds with the other. Tell me more.

///

It’s an uncharacteristically warm Friday morning when you find yourself in the elevator with Jimin, a good friend of yours who works on one of the lower levels of your office building. “Morning,” he says as he steps in, a large iced coffee in hand despite the fact that it’s still very much the middle of winter. Then he squints, leaning a little closer. “Oh my god. You got laid!”

“Oh my god, not so loud!” you hiss, whacking him on the shoulder and jabbing the button to close the elevator doors. “And no, not exactly. I’ve just been texting Jay.”

“Texting, sure.” Jimin mimes air quotes around the word and rolls his eyes. “You’re sexting him, and we all know it. How many pictures of his dick do you have saved on your phone now?”

“Oh my—” You sigh, trailing off. “Can we not talk about this right now?”

“Right, of course.” Jimin takes a sip of his coffee and pretends to check his watch. “When would you like to talk about it then? Do you need to check your calendar? Can I book an appointment for later this afternoon?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Shut up.”

Jimin just grins, his lips puckered around his straw. “So, how’s Jay? Have you asked for his real name yet?”

You shrug. “What’s the point? It’s not like we’re friends or anything. We’ve literally only met the one time.”

“Yeah, but that’s just because you’re a coward,” Jimin points out. “What’s stopping you from meeting up with him again? You have his number. You have at least one photo of his dick. Ask him out already!”

“It’s not that easy, though,” you sigh. The elevator doors open to let a few more people in, and you move to the side and lower your voice so that only Jimin can hear. “Jay—he’s not exactly boyfriend material. I mean, we fucked in his car the first night we met.”

“So?” Jimin frowns and takes another sip of his iced coffee. “You talk about things besides sex, don’t you? You definitely told him about your goldfish dying, at least. I mean, you told him before you even told me!”

“Yes I did, and he was appropriately sympathetic about Mustache’s passing, unlike some people,” you sniff. “Get over it already, won’t you?”

“Never,” Jimin replies, ignoring your pointed jab. “I’m sure you only told him because you knew you could get a sympathy sext out of it. How many dick pics did you get out of that night, anyway?”

“You’re gross,” you tell him, punching him in the arm. “Not to mention that’s exactly why Jay’s not boyfriend material. He’s perfectly happy with—whatever it is we’re doing. I can’t just ruin that by asking him to get dinner.” You frown, gnawing on your bottom lip. “I don’t want to make this into something that it’s not.”

Jimin hesitates. “Fine, okay. I guess I can understand that.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a pause, as the elevator makes a few more stops. You watch the numbers crawl higher, and know that you’ll soon have to part ways with your friend..

“Hey.” You nudge Jimin with your shoulder, just as the elevator doors close and you begin the ascent to his floor. “Wanna know something interesting?”

Jimin looks up from his phone, where he’s scrolling through Twitter. “Always.”

“My boss’ son is coming to the party tomorrow.”

Jimin’s eyebrows disappear into his ashy blond hair at your revelation. “Kyunghee’s son? Hoseok, or whatever?”

You chuckle. “The one and only. She’s found about a million ways to bring him up in conversation this past week. She thinks we’re a match made in heaven.”

“Wow.” Jimin releases a long breath. “I wonder what he’s like, then.”

You shrug, adjusting the strap of your work tote over your shoulder. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

///

The morning of the party, you wake up to an empty refrigerator. Half stale cereal and the last dregs of milk from the carton become your breakfast, and you munch on that as you mull over the contents of your closet. You’re still in your pajamas, but you pull out your comfiest jeans and a sweater to change into after you finish eating. Then you turn to your collection of dresses, rifling through them and mentally debating the merits of each material and color.

You could go in one of two directions tonight. On the one hand, this is still a work party, and as such your attire should probably maintain a certain level of decorum. But on the other, you’re meeting Hoseok Jung for the first time tonight. You aren’t necessarily looking to start anything with the man, of course, but you do want to look good. With that in mind, you eventually settle on a deep red number that you pull out of the very back of your closet, made of a silky material that skims your curves and accentuates your best assets. Laying it on the bed, you begin your hunt for a pair of matching shoes. Twenty minutes of searching and another five of agonizing later, you step into the bathroom, intent on showering and getting on with the rest of your day.

Upon exiting the bathroom, you decide that tackling the state of your refrigerator takes top priority over your other weekend errands. Sitting down at the dining table, you take stock of what you have in your pantry, planning out your meals for the upcoming week and making a list of what you need to purchase in order to make them a reality. It’s just after one in the afternoon when you exit your apartment with a completed grocery list and your purse stuffed full of reusable canvas bags. The store is a short walk from where you live, and you decide to put in your earbuds as your feet navigate the familiar route. The temperature is surprisingly mild for winter, and the sun shines bright from its perch in the cloudless blue sky. It’s perfect weather for a walk, and the fresh air clears your mind and eases your heart.

At the grocery store, you forego the stack of baskets and instead grab a shopping cart. Weaving your way up and down the aisles, you check items off the list on your phone one by one. Eventually, you find yourself in the cereal section, grabbing a box of granola before turning to where your favorite cereal normally sits. It isn’t there, and you turn in a full circle, confused, until your gaze finally lands on the familiar box on the top shelf.

Great.

Sighing, you push up to your tiptoes, stretching your arm as far as it can reach. Your fingertips graze the shelf, but you can’t quite get a grip on the box itself. Glancing down, you scan the bottommost shelf and wonder if you can step on it to give yourself a boost.

“Need a hand?”

The voice comes from behind you, and a vague sense of familiarity sparks in your brain. Slowly, you turn around, and your entire body freezes when your gaze slides up to the speaker’s face.

“Jay.” The syllable escapes you in a near whisper. “H-hi.”

“Hey.”

Jay stands before you, looking like sin incarnate in a faded denim jacket, black sweatpants slung low on his hips, and not much else. At his throat, his silver necklace sparkles, the silver J pendant glinting beneath the fluorescent lights of the store, and you’re suddenly beyond grateful that you decided to put on a decent sweater before leaving.

“Here,” he says, stepping forward until he’s close enough that you can smell his cologne—sandalwood tinged with sweet citrus. “Let me help you with that.”

The sudden proximity has your breath hitching in your throat. Your heart thuds erratically against your ribs as he reaches around you, the denim flaps of his jacket gaping in a way that exposes even more of his bare chest. By the time he pulls back with your cereal box in hand, you feel almost faint, belatedly realizing that you’d been holding your breath.

“You wanted this, right?” Jay asks, and you aren’t sure if you’re imagining the innuendo underlying his words or the teasing inflection of the syllables.

“Y-yeah, that’s the one,” you manage, fighting to quell the uneven tempo of your heartbeat as you accept the box. “Thanks.”

“Happy to help,” he replies. Then he leans in, close enough that you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek as he murmurs his next sentence into your ear. “Anything for you, princess. You know that.”

Heat floods across your cheeks. Your heart skips two full beats before taking off into a sprint, and it’s impossible to ignore the way your core begins to thrum, as if anticipating a repeat of that night you first met all those weeks ago. Almost instinctively, your eyes dart up to the ceiling where the security cameras are, and Jay follows the trajectory of your gaze with a low chuckle and a soft brush of your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Sorry, princess. As much as I’d love to get my hands on you, I’m kind of on a time crunch today.”

You can’t stop the wave of disappointment that washes over you, even if you’re in the exact same boat. “Rain check, then?”

“Rain check,” he agrees. Slowly, you reach up to touch the engraved silver pendant resting against his chest, rubbing it between your fingertips before tracing the curve of the J, and he catches your wandering fingers between his and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“You know how to reach me,” he murmurs with a mischievous wink. His gaze lingers even after he’s released your hand, and you clear your throat awkwardly before turning to deposit your cereal box into your shopping cart.

The two of you go your separate ways then, exchanging goodbyes. You finish the rest of your grocery shopping in a daze, idly going through the motions at checkout and letting muscle memory guide you back home. Your arms are aching by the time you step past the threshold of your apartment, and you heave your shopping bags up onto the kitchen counter with a relieved sigh before returning to the entryway to toe off your shoes. You throw together a sandwich as you unpack your groceries, taking a big bite as you walk back to your bedroom to look at the dress you’ve picked out. Pacing over to the closet, you double-check your shoe choice. Briefly, you debate whether or not to wear flats instead of heels.

There are still a few hours left before you have to start getting ready, so you take the last of your sandwich back to the kitchen and whip up a smoothie to go with it. You scroll through your phone as you eat, browsing through the latest news headlines and scrolling through your social media accounts. Just before six o’clock, as the sun starts setting beyond the horizon and casting long shadows across your living room, you start getting changed. You snap a photo in the mirror once you’re dressed, pulling up Jimin’s name in your phone and sending it to him.

[6:13pm] You: last chance to come tonight

Your phone buzzes with a response almost immediately.

[6:14pm] Jimin: nah. i’d hate to step on hoseok’s toes.

You laugh. Not so fast, you text back. We don’t even know anything about the guy yet. What if he’s boring? Or sexist?

[6:15pm] Jimin: if u think kyunghee raised a sexist you’re seriously deranged

[6:16pm] Jimin: now stop taking selfies and get your ass out the door! you’re gonna be late!!!!

///

Each year, the holiday party tends to be a little over the top, and this year is no exception. The company has bought out the entirety of a restaurant for the evening, and you glance around in amazement at the twinkling lights and lush evergreen boughs decorating the walls and strung up along the ceiling. An assortment of sparkling ornaments hangs from the massive tree in the far corner, interspersed between silver tinsel and more lights. Grabbing a champagne flute off a passing server’s tray, you head farther into the restaurant, skirting around tables draped in creamy linen and greeting your colleagues and friends.

“Is she alone?”

“Figures.”

The voices come from the direction of the open bar, and somehow, you just know that they’re talking about you. Lottie, Hyejin, and Sandra are clustered in the corner with glasses of wine in hand, casting glances around the restaurant and gossiping about anything and everything with a pulse. You’re sorely tempted to grab the nearest pitcher of water off a table and pour it over their heads, but you suppress the urge and instead head over with a saccharine smile. “So lovely to see you, {Name},” Lottie says as you approach.

“I love your dress,” Sandra adds. “Very slimming.”

“Thanks,” you reply, putting on your brightest, fakest smile. “Yours is great too. How are you and your husband enjoying the party so far?”

Sandra’s face sours, and you hide your smirk in your champagne flute. Maybe it’s petty to bring up her rocky relationship, but you’ve been subject to snide comments from Sandra and her friends for years now and it’s become increasingly hard for you to bite your tongue. A few tables away, you spot Sandra’s husband, Rodney, take an enormous gulp of his whiskey and wince as it burns down his throat.

“We’re all having a wonderful time, aren’t we, ladies?” Lottie cuts in when Sandra takes too long to answer. “Hyejin’s date is over there with Rodney, and my boyfriend is fetching himself a drink. You remember Dev, don’t you?”

You nod, even though it’s a lie. “Sure. Say hi to him for me.”

Lottie’s lips curve up into a smile, her head tilting to the side, and you’re suddenly reminded of a snake rearing its head back for the kill. “So, what about you? Have you brought someone tonight, or—?”

“Hi ladies!” Kyunghee materializes at your side, her lips painted a festive red shade to match her dress. She’s wearing the disingenuous smile that she reserves for the resident gossips of your office, and you try not to let your relief show on your face when Lottie’s attention refocuses on your manager.

“So good to see you, Kyunghee,” she simpers. “Have you been here long?”

“Not as long as you,” your manager replies, nodding at the near-empty wineglass in her hand. “I see we’re already making a dent in the wine supply, and you’re falling behind, {Name}. Why don’t we go remedy that, hmm?”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond, grabbing your arm and leading you away. Kyunghee is surprisingly spry for a woman her age, and you follow after her with some difficulty as she marches through the throngs of conversing people, all the way to the line at the open bar.

“I’d like you to meet someone,” she says, gesturing at the man standing at the end of the line with his back to you. “{Name}, this is my son, Hoseok.”

The man turns around at the sound of his name, a warm, affable smile stretched across his face. “Hi, I’m H—” he begins, but he’s cut off by your sharp intake of breath. His eyes go wide, his smile fading as his mouth falls open, and you’re certain you’re wearing an even more dumbfounded expression. “It’s you,” he says, his voice hoarse.

“Wh-what… how…” You trail off, speechless. The words flounder and die in your throat as your brain struggles to process this development, and you practically feel the way the gears in your head churn to a stuttering halt.

Because this man standing before you, the one that Kyunghee has just introduced as her son, is none other than Jay. He looks completely and utterly devastating in a navy waistcoat and matching slacks, a green tie shaped like a Christmas tree knotted loosely around the white collar of his shirt. His dark hair is parted, his undercut exposed, and you can’t tear your gaze away from the loose strand that has fallen across his forehead.

“H-hi.”

Jay—Hoseok—swallows. “Hi.”

Kyunghee glances between the two of you, her brows furrowing. “I take it you two already know each other?”

Hoseok’s ears begin taking on a scarlet tinge, the color spreading to his cheeks as he struggles to find his vocabulary again. “I—yeah. Yeah, we’ve met.”

“Right. Do I even want to know how?” she asks dubiously, before shaking her head and huffing out a sigh. “No, forget I asked. I don’t want to know. I’ll just leave you two to… catch up.”

Waving goodbye, Kyunghee disappears back into the crowd of partygoers milling around. Hoseok turns back to you, sucking in a deep breath, and you fight the urge to stare down at your toes as his gaze roves across your face.

“I can’t believe this,” he says, breaking the silence that’s fallen between you at last. “My mom’s been talking about you for months, but I never imagined that it’d be you.”

“You’re telling me,” you reply, finally having recovered your voice. “Kyunghee brings you up all the time, but I never thought… I mean, we didn’t even know each other’s names, and now…” You shrug. “Here we both are.”

“It’s a pretty crazy coincidence, huh?”

“Definitely.”

A beat passes, and then two. You’re fully aware that you’re staring, but you don’t dare blink, afraid that he’ll disappear if you close your eyes. Of all the things that you thought might happen tonight, this particular meeting wasn’t even close to making the list. Never would you have thought that the man you only knew as Jay would turn out to be Kyunghee’s son. Never would you have connected Jay to the photographed little boy in yellow suspenders on Kyunghee’s desk, or realized that they were one and the same.

From behind you, someone loudly clears their throat. Another voice calls for you to get a move on, already, and both you and Hoseok belatedly realize that you are still standing in line for the open bar. Hoseok’s eyes go wide again, and you nearly tread on his toes when you both try to move forward. “After you,” he says with a chuckle, gesturing for you to go in front of him, and that’s enough to break the tension. You step ahead of him with a laugh, catching up to the line, and Hoseok doesn’t stray far as he follows your lead.

“So, what are you drinking?” he asks, a smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Vodka soda with a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’m going to stick with wine tonight,” you reply, peering at the bottles lined up on the counter. “What about you?”

“Hmm. Jack and coke, I think. Nothing else is really calling my name right now.”

Grabbing your drinks, the two of you begin searching for a place to sit. You spot Kyunghee at a table near the front, and she smiles knowingly and offers you a thumbs-up when she catches your eye. Eventually, you settle on a table near the Christmas tree, the lights glimmering off the glasses and reflecting off your knife as you pick it up to butter a slice of crusty bread from the basket in the center. Hoseok follows your lead, grabbing a piece for himself, and the two of you munch in silence for a few seconds before Hoseok breaks it.

“You know, my mom says you’re the perfect girl for me” he says with a dry little chuckle. “Think she’s right?”

“I don’t know,” you answer. “It’s funny, though—Kyunghee’s been telling me the same thing. She sings your praises all the time.”

Hoseok laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “Oh, jeez, that’s kind of embarrassing. I’m glad she’s saying good things, at least.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” you tell him, grinning. “She’s only shown us one photo album from your childhood.”

His face crumples. “Was it the Disneyland one?”

You nod, fighting back laughter, and watch as Hoseok groans and lets his forehead meet the linen-covered tabletop with a dull thunk.

“I don’t like rollercoasters,” he mumbles into the tablecloth, his voice muffled by the material. “They make me queasy.”

“Even now?” you ask, and he nods.

“Yep.”

The clinking of a fork against a wineglass—amplified and broadcast through an array of invisible speakers built into the restaurant’s walls—interrupts any further conversation. You twist in your seat to watch your company’s leadership give their opening remarks, listening as they congratulate everyone for a great year and wish you a happy holiday season. The servers begin going out with plates of food, and you thank them as they set yours down. Hoseok does the same before raising his glass in your direction, clearing his throat and offering you a crooked little smile.

“Here’s to second meetings.”

“Third, if you count the store earlier,” you correct, and he chuckles and nods in agreement before clinking his drink against yours.

You spend the entirety of dinner chatting with Hoseok, getting to know him beyond the few facts Kyunghee has mentioned and what little you’ve gleaned from texting him the last two months. He tells you all about his dance studio, Hope World, where he teaches both contemporary dance and the occasional Pilates class. You find out that in addition to rollercoasters, he also dislikes sour foods and raisins, but he loves mint chocolate and sweet and sour pork. He also has a very low tolerance for alcohol—something he tells you as he tilts the rest of his drink into his mouth. “Should I be worried?” you ask as he sets his glass back down, and he chuckles and shakes his head, sending the loose tendril of hair flopping across his forehead.

Dessert is served, and subsequently eaten. The music is turned up, and people slowly begin finding their way to the open space that serves as an impromptu dancefloor. Hoseok rises to his feet and extends a hand toward you, and you only hesitate for the briefest of seconds before accepting it. He leads you out amongst the other swaying couples, his hand finding its way to the curve of your waist, and you rest your hand on his shoulder as he begins guiding you in a slow, simple waltz.

“So?” Hoseok’s voice is a low murmur, soft and gentle against the shell of your ear. “What’s the verdict?”

You blink. “The verdict?”

Even without looking, you can tell that he’s smiling. You can hear it in the lilt of his voice, and imagine it in the curve of his lips. “About me,” he clarifies, carefully pulling back so you can spin in a circle beneath his outstretched arm. “About us. My mom will never let me hear the end of it if she turns out to be right, but I still wanna know. So what are you thinking?”

“Are you asking if I think we’re perfect for each other?” you ask, giggling. “I don’t know if I believe in all that, to be quite honest. Destiny and soulmates—I mean, doesn’t it seem a little too good to be true?”

Hoseok hums. “Maybe. But considering all that’s happened to us in the last couple of months, don’t you think there’s a chance that it's all more than simple coincidence?”

“Maybe,” you concede. “Still, I don’t know if I can give you a verdict just yet. We haven’t even gone on a date.”

“We did do things a little backwards,” Hoseok admits, tugging you close and winding his arm around your waist. “Let me make it up to you, then. Are you free tomorrow?”

“What if I am?” you challenge.

“Then, I’d like to take you out for breakfast,” he replies without missing a beat.

The prospect of a proper meal with Hoseok Jung does something funny to your insides. Still, something makes you hesitate, and you avert your gaze as you search for your next words. “I wasn’t expecting to end tonight with a date,” you admit slowly. “I honestly didn’t even think you were interested in… well, anything beyond sex, to be honest.”

Hoseok’s face creases into a frown, and you look up again when he murmurs your name. “I understand why you would think that,” he says. “Really, I do. But honestly? I had every intention of texting you and asking you out properly. I was going to play it cool and wait a few days, which was stupid in retrospect. And then you texted me first.”

“I texted y—” You trail off. “Oh, god.”

“It seemed like you’d been drinking,” Hoseok says with a shrug, and you press a finger to his lips before he can say anything more. You remember the night in question, and you remember the bottle of wine you’d consumed. And you definitely remember the photographs you’d sent of yourself, and the ones Hoseok had been kind enough to send in return.

“Wait, so you were going to ask me out? And then I… I sexted you?”

Hoseok nods, and you groan and bury your face into his chest.

“I can’t believe this,” you mutter, and you feel laughter rumble through his chest before a hand comes up to stroke along your back.

“Believe me, I’m not complaining,” he assures you. “But I’d still really like to take you out, so what do you say?”

His gaze doesn’t leave yours for a second as he awaits your answer, and your heart skips a beat when you look up to see the earnestness in his eyes and the hesitant smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Breakfast sounds wonderful,” you whisper, and the smile that blossoms on your companion’s face is nothing short of radiant.

“Good,” he says. “Great. Breakfast tomorrow, then. Now, can I kiss you?”

You’re already pushing up to your tiptoes, your fingers fisting in the soft hair at his nape. “God, yes.”

///

“Hey, you made it!”

You beam. “Hi.”

You and Hoseok are about to commence your first date, having just sat down at a cozy little café for breakfast. Hoseok has pulled your chair out in true gentlemanly fashion, and you can’t help but smile over your menu at the few lingering snowflakes that have yet to melt into his dark hair.

“So, here we are,” you remark. “Our fourth meeting.”

Hoseok’s lips stretch into his signature grin, breathtakingly bright and infectious. “And hopefully many more.”

You grin at him. “Yeah? Too bad this is breakfast, because I’d drink to that.”

He leans forward, his grin widening. “Next time,” he says as his hand finds its way around yours, his fingers slotting comfortably into the spaces between your own. “We can do dinner, maybe. Or I can cook for you. But for now, I’m just happy that we’re finally doing this.”

You give his hand a soft squeeze. “Me too.”

“Just promise me one thing?”

The sudden seriousness of his tone has your brow furrowing in concern. “Sure, of course,” you reassure. “What is it?”

He winces. “Please don’t tell my mom about all the dick pics.”

#hoseok #hoseok smut #hoseok x reader #bts smut #bts scenarios #hoseok scenarios #jhope #jung hoseok #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fic #kpop scenarios #hoseok x you #strangers to lovers!au #strangers to lovers #lia writes #gonna change that stupid summary if i can think of anything better LOL #my brain went all mushy on me idk what's happening

2K notes · View notes

blissfulparker · 3 years ago

Text

Wipeout⇔ Surfer!Dad!tom

Parings: surfer!dad!tom x surfer!reader

Summary; You and Tom spend your whole relationship in the water. Surfing under the summer sun and competing in summers biggest surf competition. To a surpise, you and Tom take on the biggest challenge nature could throw at you. A baby.

Wc: 9k

Warnings: mentions of insecurities durning pregnancy, fluff

A/n: I know this isn’t a birthday themed fic for Toms b-day but I hope you all enjoy! My little spin on a summer fic with dad!tom 🥰

June.

The summer breeze rose goosebumps to your skin. Your hands coming up to rub your arms as the water was only a bit colder today.

it was summer, the best part of the year when you lived with a beach in your backyard. Spending your whole life surfing you now prepared for the summer tournament that happened only weeks away from now. Surfers, fans, media come in from nearly all over the world just to compete.

To feel a wave under their boards and the adrenaline that rushes through your blood when you finally get on top. The same competition that lead you to Tom, Tom who was now your boyfriend of two years. At first, you laughed at the boy.

Pale, shy—yet so cocky and from London of all places. The most water they got is from the sky. You wanted to laugh with your friends for how confident he was acting, little rain boy wanted to have a chance in the big ocean and he did. To your shock, he scored better than you and scored to be in the top 10. Your laughs stopped after competition and maybe it was the slight momentary enemy thing or it was that deep blue bikini that made him find you after the games and get you out for a drink.

That drink was truly a shared basket of fish and chips as you talked more and more about each other. Pale, rainy London boy ended up being the best thing that ever happened to you.

“You wiped out twice!” He sits atop his board and your hands rub over your face.

“Maybe because I’m distracted!” You splash water in his direction. His toned abs always tanner during g this year and it was hard for the both of you to control yourself. “I’m just tired, stressed.” You shrugged it off truthfully.

“You fell asleep at 8:00 last night, grandma.” He teased and you rolled your eyes.

“Competition stress.” You point to him and he shrugs. If he’s honest, within the two years he’s known you, two years he’s loved and wondered where you had been all his life, he knew your stress. When you were stressed you oftentimes took long showers or wrote in your journal for hours on end but this time your stress was sleeping early/in late and a few times he’s caught you throwing up. All under the name of stress.

He didn’t push anything though, reminding you that he is there and you could tell him anything. But nonetheless, he left you be and just kissed your cheek and told you everything was okay.

“Race you to shore and whoever gets back inside first gets the leftover chicken from last night!” He starts to swim and you quickly flatten yourself on your board.

“What are we like five?” You call out but still push yourself to go faster. Pushing yourself to race him to shore.

Even though Toms board was definitely double his size, he still beat you into the house, already washed off and reheating the leftovers for lunch. After a morning swim you always had lunch before you went off to work where you would teach little kids how to surf. No matter what, you were always around the water.

“So I was checking the competition list this week, checking to see if there’s anyone new…” he trails off on a story. The two of you share the chicken and fries before you suddenly get a disgusted taste in your mouth. The chicken suddenly becomes sour in your mouth but you force yourself to swallow, Tom notices the change and he stops everything to make sure you’re okay.

“Darling, what is it?” He has a worried look but you shake your head.

“Nothing—it’s nothing. I-I just think this part of my chicken was a bit undercooked and it grossed me out. It’s nothing.” You smiled at him and he waited a second before continuing his story.

But that wasn’t the end of it, the next bite even more sour and this time you drop your fork and open the trash can to spit it out. The spitting then followed by spitting up all of your breakfast and lunch. Tom quickly coming to move any stray hair and rubbing your back as he tried to not throw up himself.

When you were done, he quickly closed the trash can lid and got you into the bathroom where he assembled the toothbrush for you.

“Peaches, I know that you told me not to worry but this is the third time this week.” He folded his arms as he leans against the wall.

“I’m fine.” You say through a mouth filled with toothpaste. Spitting into the sink and rinsing your mouth while also splashing some water over your face. When you look back up, just a bit, your eyes flicker to the untouched box of tampons.

One week late wasn’t so bad, one week late was just some built up stress and every women had been a week or two late before. But before tom can take notice in your distraction, you turn around to him who hands you a towel.

“But you’re not fine.” He argues a bit gently, not wanting to offend you.

“Tom, in school I would throw up during exam seasons all the time. It’s just stress okay? Better than losing hair or breaking out I guess.” You try and joke with him but he doesn’t exactly laugh. Just stares at you worried and you push back a few of his curls.

“Hey, look at me,” you tell him and his eyes meet yours. “I’m fine, seriously! Just a bit of stress and nothing the ocean water and you can’t fix.” You kiss his cheek and he finally smiles.

“Can you go see a doctor? For yourself and if not for yourself then for me, I want you to do good at competition and you know they won’t let you compete if you are sick in anyway.” He rubs up and down your sides and you sigh. Hating the doctors but you agree.

“Okay, okay. I’ll make an appointment but they will just tell me I just have butterflies.” You tell him and that’s when he grows a smirk.

“Aw, babe, I didn’t know after all these years I still gave you butterflies!” He teased and you rolled your eyes playfully nudging your body against him. Both leaving the bathroom, your eyes flicker over to the untouched box to tampons that just taunt you one last time before tom shuts the bathroom door. It was possible, you just didn’t want it to be possible just yet.

“I should’ve canceled, I should be there!” Tom speaks through the phone. You sat in an empty, cold doctors office waiting for blood results to get back.

Despite Toms over worrying, everything was fine. They couldn’t find anything physically wrong with you and agreed when you mentioned how it was just anxiety and nerves. Yet they still had to run a blood test to make sure it wasn’t anything they missed and couldn’t see with the naked eye.

Meanwhile tom had to be the most dramatic person out there. You always told him if he was not a surfer he would be an actor. It was impressive how every single night before bed he had a new condition to diagnose you with. Some so severe and outrageous you had to remind him that this wasn’t 1600s England and that you didn’t have the plague. That things were just from stress and if it was a stomach bug then let it run through.

Yet he would rant to you nearly every single night about how he’s always loved you and hated that this was the way to go. Always with that you would smack him with a pillow and tell him to go to sleep and with that he would kiss your cheek and hold you tight as he fell asleep.

“Tom, it’s fine. Seriously! They said they couldn’t find anything wrong, you’d be wasting your time to come here. The most you’d get out of this visit is maybe a sticker. Does Tommy want his girlfriend to bring him back a sticker?” You used a baby voice and you could practically hear him going red.

With a scoff he replies, “Ugh, no. What am I like five?” He pauses for a moment. “But what kind do they have? Were you able to check?” He asked in more of a quiet voice and you laugh.

“No clue. But the nurse told me the best thing I could do is just drink some tea and rest. Maybe they have some spiderman stickers or Sofia the first stickers.” You fiddle with the loose thread on your pants. Ending with a joke to calm both yours and Tom's nerves.

With a smirk, Tom Says, “you’ve been drinking some British tea for awhile—“ he jokes and you quickly cut him off.

“Tom!” You say and as if it was a sign, the nurse comes back in with a clipboard and a gentle smile. “Hey, I’ll call you back, the nurse has my results.”

“Wait! Before you go, ask them to check for tapeworms—“ before he could finish you hung up.

“He’s just dramatic.” You laughed a bit and the nurse laughed along before taking a seat across from you. She clicks her pen which makes you nervous for some reason.

“So your blood came back fine, everything is okay. I just have a few little things such as are you on any birth control?” She asked and you shook your head.

“Oh no, um...haven’t been for a while. But my boyfriend and I use protection and we’re safe. We only used planB once and that was a year ago.” You tell her but she looks up at you. Nodding as she purses her lips.

“Condoms only go so far sweetheart. We just have to ask patients who we find to be with a child incase of any birth control so we can remove it immediately, the birth control, I mean, remove that immediately.” With child. You were with a child. Pregnant. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest and the nurse says a few more things but they don’t register.

“Y-You mean there’s a baby inside of me?” You don’t know what color you look right now but you would assume pale, or green with the feeling of vomiting and this time not from slightly uncooked raw leftover chicken.

“Yup, about one month along it looks! We still will want to run more tests and…” she talks more and more but you don’t listen. Your brain foggy, you don’t know if you’re going to pass out or throw up or shit everywhere from how nervous you were. Hell, even all three seemed like an option as she talked. “So I’ll leave you to tell the important news?” She asked. This was apart of her regular day to day, she probably had hundreds of girls like you come in. Clueless and thinking of a stomach bug and then finding out they are pregnant.

“Y-Yeah.” You try to form a smile.

“Perfect, just meet me up at the desk whenever you’re ready. There’s a bathroom down the hall if you are feeling queasy and of course, help yourself to as many waters in the mini fridge in our waiting room. Congratulations!” She says before she turns out and all you hear is the door click shut. The white noise of the light and the taps of your fingernails against the cool metal bed.

You know it was professional and sweet of her to allow you space to call your significant other but you only stare at Tom's contact. Staring at the word ‘Tommy’ with almost all the heart emojis and his contact pictures of him with the biggest smile.

You have no guts to tell him right in the moment, but rather get off of the paper coated bed and grab your things to leave. Setting up a new appointment with your doctor to see more into the baby. Pregnant, with child, before competition. You and Tom were going to have a faimily.

July.

Tom still hadn’t known the news. It had only been a week but the guilt still ate you alive.

You didn’t want to worry or stress him. You yourself still tried to wrap your brain around it. A baby, every breath you took, every bite of food you ate, every drink you swallowed and every step you took there was a baby you shared it with.

You think about how every time tom had wrapped his arms around your waist this week he gently touched over the baby. Kissing your lying lips, you hated yourself for it.

As for competition, your mind nearly forgot. Still getting in the waters everyday with Tom but this time a bit more cautious. Everytime Tom worried for you, you quickly would cover his worry up with either a joke or kisses.

As for the throwing up, morning sickness was something that came in and out. You started hating the smell of bacon tom cooked in the morning but just waved it off. He noticed your decline in caffeine and beers and wines but you just told him the best athletes only had what’s best for their body before performing.

Tom believed all of it. Every single white lie you told—even though you hated yourself for telling them— believed them.

“How ya feeling?” Toms lips met your forehead as you cuddled up on the couch today. Extra tired and almost positive the baby was screaming at you for rest. You cuddled a bowl of popcorn and a water bottle.

“Mmh, just fine.” You give him a smile as his lips come down to meet yours.

Stealing some popcorn from the bowl, he heads over to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

“I’m thinking we do shrimp tonight?” He looked over and you made a face.

“Ew, no.” You shake your head and he gives a furrowed brow look.

“What? You love shrimp!” He responds and you feel yourself growing hot. Hiding deeper in the Blanket and not wanting to show your face.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for it tonight.” That was another thing, lots and lots of emotions. Luckily Tom had plenty of emotions to match.

“Okay...tuna?” He offers and you shook your head. “Steak?” Once again and no. “Chicken?” No. “Okay, love, you’ve gotta help me out. I know you’re not feeling well but I’m helpless in here.” He says and your eyes start to water. He notices and immediately comes over.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he comes in front of the couch and crouches down to you. “What’s wrong?” He stroked your cheek and you shook your head.

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” You sniffle. “Seriously, I’ll help you. I’m thinking pasta.” You smiled and he did too.

“Yeah that’s not too bad.”

And so you two made and ate dinner completely normally. No tears from you, no sickness from you. Tom only talked about the waves out today and how much you would’ve loved it. Now you two spent time washing up.

“You think that one girl with red hair will be there like last year? She was so annoying.” You laughed as you got excited again for competition. Tom grew tense as you mentioned it. You noticed that. How he didn’t talk much about competition anymore. It went from the only thing you two talked about to now nothing. You knew how excited he was, the both of you were but suddenly it was like that excitement was put in a box to rest.

“Yeah...she was.” He kinda laughed but then just washed harder at the dish.

“Everything okay? You’ve kinda stopped talking about competition.” You put down your plate and that's when he took a deep breath.

“It’s nothing, I promise.” He tells you, pressing his lips into a lying smile that you knew.

“Baby, you can tell me anything you know. I’m always here for—“ and with that, he cut you off and told you the words you hated to hear.

“I-I took you out of the competition,” Tom sighed, dropping the dish rag on the counter in defeat. He watches as your face goes from annoyed to shock. Anger builds behind the eyes he find peace in. “It was wrong me me to do so—“

“damn right it was wrong of you to do so!” You slam your hand on the counter. “W-why would you?”

“You were sick! You were so sick for so long and what was I going to let you do? just make yourself worse—“

“it was the stress! I told you it was the—“

The built up ignored tension between you both finally caused him to snap.

“Is your period being late stress too?” His words caused the room to be silent. You take a sharp breath as you stare at him with anger but not at him anymore, at the fear of your new life.

“I’m just late, it’s normal for a woman like me to be rhis stressed and late...” you trailed off and this time he had the red face.

“Bullshit. What happened at that doctors appointment.” He demanded. You didn’t say a word at first which only angered him more. “Damnit (y/n)—“

“I’m pregnant.” You finally cry out and he knew his thoughts could be true, he knew they had to be but the moment those words left your mouth his whole body froze. He went pale with fear and shock, his hand no longer gripping the counter out of anger but out of support in case he passes out. The tears that left your eyes were uncontrollable as you let out a sob, the first sob that snapped tom back into reality.

He didn’t think twice, his arms supportively wrap around you as he tells you sweet nothings to try and calm you and himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He mumbled into your hair. You swallowed hard as you pulled back, your face wet with tears and you sniffled. His thumbs come up to wipe away each tear and each trace of mascara.

“Because I wanted to be normal still! I wanted to compete, I wanted to surf! I can’t surf anymore tom, i'm going to be a mom and I won’t have time for surfing.” You sob more and he only pulls you back into his grasp.

“I’m so selfish and stupid to even think to compete but I just want to n-not—“ you can’t even spit it out anymore.

“Who said you can’t surf when you’re a mom?” He moved back to hold your face. You didn’t look at him, he wasn’t going to force you to either. This was your decisions right now, he just wanted to listen.

“When you’re a woman and a mother, everything is for your child. You will have time to surf because you’re a dad but no one wants a mom to do anything but take care of their kid and I’ll love this baby so much, I will, but don’t want to lose myself. I’m young, you’re young and you’re about to be the next big thing.” You punch his shoulder playfully trying to lighten things up. “I—i-W-we’ll—“ you start again and he shakes his head.

“Don’t even say it. Sweetheart, you’re having a baby, our baby. I will make sure you still surf, when it’s safe, Of course. I-I don’t even have the words right now, my heart is racing, feel it.” He placed your hand over his chest to feel his pounding heart. “You will be (y/n) Holland, the infamous surfer that beat Tom Holland twice last year and you will be the mother to our kid. Their badass mom.” He cracks a smile as his hand goes to your stomach.

A shared moment where he only touches the stomach as he learns about it. You look at him softly and he looks at you as if you were the entire world. As if he was a little kid at sea world for the first time, he looks at you with beauty and hope and a hint of thankfulness

“For a minute,” you speak again. “I thought you were completely calm about this.” You chuckle and he shakes his head.

“No, I actually think I’m going to throw up.” He held his breath for a moment before he moved to the trash can and emptied his worried stomach.

This time it was you rubbing his back and wiping his mouth. Maybe you wanted to roll your eyes at the Irony but you just knew he loved you.

Holland. He used the last name Holland on you for the first time you’d ever heard it. He said it so confidently as if you two were already married. Holland. You can get use to that.

Day of competition

there was this sort of shock in everyone’s face as they watched you walk in shorts and a tee. Joining the crowds of people instead of getting ready for the waves of water.

This year was no wetsuit with your board, slathering sunscreen on your face as you got ready but rather taking a seat in that sand just like everyone else. Carrying a baby no one knew about except you and Tom and a few friends and family.

Your body was warm with nerves, hundreds of cameras here usually captured the sea, interviewing the surfers afterwards. Although it was not like Hollywood, there was no TMZ or dailymail, but there was enough interest and news casters to tilt their heads for why they infamous (y/n) (y/l/n)—soon to be (y/n) Holland—took a seat with the friends and family. Cheering on from the sand.

“Hey.” Z snaps you out of your constant looking around, how your eyes never focused on one thing.

“Ease up a bit, babes, no one even knows.” She knew, you knew you had to explain to her when you were sitting out. Just as Tom explained to his brothers and the two of you both would explain to his mother after competition. For he knew the women would get so excited she would explode

“Right.” Was all you said as you started clapping with the rest of the crowd when the games begun. It would be a moment for them to get to tom, they always let the younger ones go first, you and Tom were in that fine middle where you had to wait just for the middle of the games.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” Z asked with a hint of excitement to her voice. She kept it quite enough to where it was just you.

“I’m okay with either.” You didn’t ever care much for gender, although a girl would be nice to balance out the male testosterone you’re always around. “A girl would be nice though.” You smile at Z.

She gives a smile back, leans back on the towel as she soaks up the sun. “And Tom?” She asked and you shrugged.

He had talked about almost everything but a boy or girl, when you asked if he cared he told you,

“as long as they have two arms, two legs, a torso, a head, comes out of me with no trouble, then it’s a perfect surfing buddy.” You quote him exactly, smiling at his words from a few nights ago.

When he found out, his hands never left your stomach, even though you reminded him the baby was only the size of a grape. That well...it was just a bunch of cells forming up in the moment that couldn’t exactly kick for it had legs the size of your pinky nail. He still waited, he waited and waited, you didn’t even know what he was waiting for at one point for he would pause between his words at the baby or when he asked you a question he looked down at your stomach as if they would reply for you or before you.

“I know hes nervous as hell, but he’s so excited, I know it. The other day Harrison told me he cried when he told him. Tom, crying.” Z laughed a bit and you did too.

“If you think I’m the emotional one...turn on coco or inside out and see what happens to that man.” You chuckled as you turned your head back to the waters to watch tom with a smile on his face blow a kiss in your direction before getting on his board. Paddling out to the sea you watch him get ready to take the first wave, the crowd goes wild and your hand rests over your stomach.

This time, next year, you would sit on these sands with a smaller version of the two of you.

August.

Being early in your pregnancy but far enough to show was not as glamorous as people made it be.

Your shorts no longer fit, shirts started to get loose at the top and tight at the bottom and for the love of heaven you slept so much. Tom liked the idea of endless naps, somedays you wondered if he was the pregnant one instead of you. As he slouched around, ate just as many snacks as you and started to even complain about some of the same things you did.

Maybe it was the impact your moods had on him or the fact he stopped drinking caffeine since you no longer could have it and he didn’t know what his life was before morning coffee was with you. He was almost the same as you were durning the pregnancy.

“What are you doing?” Putting on a bikini for the first time since you told Tom. For the first time in about a month. You didn’t like the fit much anymore, the bloation you constantly had and the extra weight you now carried in your thighs, arms and breasts made you insecure. The top that used to fit perfect now had you grunting to tie. But you had to wear what you had to wear to get you in the water.

“I’m coming with you to the beach.” You say innocently and he shakes his head.

“You’re not picking up a board, you know that. Besides, the waters have been rough lately, there’s that storm coming in and one hard wave can hit you and I don’t want that to happen.” He exaggerates and you look at him with a dead stare.

“Tom, I haven’t touched the water in over a month, I’m pretty sure my skin cells are changing because of it.” You exaggerate as well and he comes up to you.

“Well, I’m not letting you in the water. It’s too dangerous.” He was serious, at first you thought he was just being dramatic, he was still going to let you swim but he was 100% serious.

“Tom, you’re kidding.” You scoff a bit and he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry darling, I know a lot is happening—“ he starts and you move back.

“The doctor said I am healthy enough to be physically active and I—“ before you could finish he cut you off.

“The doctor said you could do some squats, leg workouts, lift a 5lb weight, that was the type of exercise he said. The waters are too dangerous, please don’t argue with me.” He pleads but your emotions get the best of you. Anger starting to build and your body heating up.

Tom had learnt one thing so far; don’t upset the pregnant women and that’s exactly what he did.

“You’re telling me to not argue with you when you are the one holding me hostage in my own home? God, Tom, I have a life still too! A month ago you said you understood what it was going to take and now you’re treating me the way I specifically asked not to! I’m getting in the water, I haven’t been in the water for months it feels like and that’s all I know—“ your rant continues but Tom isn’t looking at you anymore. He’s looking at your side view in the mirror.

Your bump is showing, the bump he swore he could kinda feel but not see was now showing. Almost like it grew overnight.

“Fuck, Tom! Look at me while I’m—“ you start to yell again but he steps closer.

“Look.” He stares at the mirror and comes closer to your bump.

“Oh my…” you see exactly what he’s seeing. The small curve outwards that is your swollen stomach. Your bump.

“May I?” He asked and your mood went from angry to overfilled with happiness. Your eyes starting to tear ss you nodded.

“Tom, it’s your child too, you can touch.” You told him and he did. Your hand even went to your stomach as you rubbed over the bump that was barely forming.

“It’s like it happened overnight.” He laughed a bit and you did too.

“I swear it wasn’t there last night when I got out of the shower. I swear.” You let a few tears fall and he peppers soft kisses.

“I’m sorry.” He gently stroked at the stomach and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry too. I know you just want what’s best for us but I’m just…” you sniffle some more not being able to finish.

“I know baby, I know.” He gets up and wraps his arms around your back. Pulling you in for a hug for you to cry on his chest. So emotional over everything but he was right there. Right there with you.

“We can call the doctor about you surfing, we can call him right now if you want. But I just can’t lose you.” He gives a smile and you nod as your lips meet with his.

“C-can you order the chicken from the place I like?” You finally regain your composure and he nods.

“Of course, anything else?” He looks down at the stomach and you shake your head.

“No, not for now.” You smile down at the small bump forming. “Wait!” You stop him as he’s leaving to grab the phone. He turns to face a guilty looking you, “and mozzarella sticks.” You rub your stomach and he nods. With a faint smile he goes,

“always.” As that was your constant craving. Leaving you in the room for a moment and coming back to see you dressed back ins sweats and a tee shirt, Tom smiled and gladly cuddled up next to you, rubbing and talking to the bump about the future. Maybe you couldn’t surf, but you had Tom right by your side.

December.

Christmas cookies and sweetly salted popcorn occupied your side as you spent a snowy Christmas in London. No beach, no blazing sun even during the day, Tom took you home where you were now five months pregnant.

Heavily showing and to even think you wanted to go surfing months ago was laughable. You hated getting up to shower somedays for it was too much work.

“Darling, Angel, my pretty girl,” Tom sat next to you nervous with his next words. “I know you’re pregnant but there are only so many Christmas cookies.” He told you and you smacked his shoulder.

“Thomas, she’s pregnant! She’s allowed as many cookies as she wants besides there are more in the oven but pregnant women gets first pick as she is carrying my grandchild.” His mom immediately came to your defense. Taking so much good care of you while you were here, Tom doesn’t even think he got this much affection as a sick child.

“I wasn’t saying it’s a bad thing for her to eat cookies, I just want one!” Tom defended himself and you handed him a cookie and you felt your baby kick.

“See? They don't even want you stealing our cookies. I’m eating for two, I’m eating for your baby. You eat a lot by the way! Remember that summer you went through the whole fridge in a week? Yeah, now I’m eating for a tiny version of that! And myself! It’s hard out here for me and what did you do huh? Take two minutes!” You snatched the cookie back from him and rubbed your stomach. His brothers stifled a laugh and Tom grew red in embarrassment.

“I last longer than two minutes.” He says is a mumble.

Rolling your eyes, You rested your head on Toms shoulder and moved his hand over to the kicking stomach. “She says thank you.” You smile as you take a bite from the cookie.

“A she?” His mom perks up and the rest of the family does.

It was a mistake, you and Tom had a battle of the sexes. It seemed as if you didn’t want to know the gender right before your winter holiday. Or really the gender at all. The gender was available for you guys now but you both didn’t see it as a big deal. The baby’s room would be filled with ocean themed toys and a gentle blue wall Anyways. And besides, whatever they decide to be they would make the perfect surfing buddy. Although it was still fun to think of, You thought a girl and Tom swore a boy.

“No, mum, we still don’t know I promise. (Y/n) is just messing around.” He swore and the family relaxed again.

“He’s right, I am just joking. Tom is probably right with his assumption, thinking it may be a boy. With all this moving and eating, just like Tom.” You poke his cheek and Tom again flusters in embarrassment.

“Hey, I have a fast metabolism.” He told you and you kissed his temple.

“I know baby, I’m just teasing you. My man knows how to stay fit and sexy.” You playfully rub his stomach and suddenly the stifled laughs from the boys turn into disgusted noises.

There was everything to indicate a boy, well, mostly just a gut feeling. Tom's mother described her pregnancy with Tom to you and it was nearly the same. A baby boy, you could see that. You would need another fridge and a lot more paper towels assuming the babe will be like Tom and eat yet spill everything. You liked the idea of a boy. Plus, Tom had been playing a stupid game where he asked the baby questions making it kick for an answer. When Tom asked if it was a boy or girl, it kicked the moment he said boy.

The ding of the kitchen timer went off, more cookies fresh out of the oven and Tom was quick to jump up.

“Let me help m’lady up.” He grabs your hands and you grunt as you stand up. You walk with Tom at your side and once you are alone eating more cookies in the kitchen your hand rubs over your stomach as you feel the baby kick in excitement.

“Off the topic of gender, I think they miss the ocean. They kick so much just when I sit in the bath like they are having fun in the water.” You mention water and you feel a kick. They couldn’t understand, but they could hear and a smile rose to yours and Tom's face.

“Then they’re just like their mama.” He leans in and kisses your cheek.

“Who knows, maybe once we get back I’ll get in the—“ before you can finish your sentence about surfing, a sharp kick to your bladder causes you to hunch over with a pained face. Tom worried as he held you panicked but you got back up with a deep breath.

“Nevermind, little one didn’t like that idea.” You hold onto his arms tightly.

“Everything okay? Just a bladder kick?” He panicked and you just nodded.

“Yup.” Your face scrunches up again. “Just the bladder.” You suddenly have the urge to pee. “Now shoo, I’ve got to pee.” You tell him and he looks at you in confusion.

“You just peed like—“ you give him a look making him think about how he’s finishing his sentence. “Right, my darling.” He moved out of your way to let you go. Snatching one more cookie from the tray, he smiled as he thought how next year at this exact time, you would be holding a little baby.

April.

One week. You were one week late and as any normal pregnant woman would be resting in bed and rubbing over her swollen belly and anticipating the child’s arrival. Although that was not what you were doing.

Against Tom's wishes, you went back to work to see the kids start up their surfing lessons. Although there would be no swimming for you, no waves for you just yet, seeing the kids happy to be there was something that sparked joy to your heart always. Helped ease your nerves and turn them into excitement.

“Mrs. (Y/l/n)-Holland, look what I learnt how to do!” One of the kids calls out. You had a smile for not only did they call you by both yours and Tom's name, but that they had always been excited to show you new things.

“That was amazing Ryder!” You clapped at the boy who did a handstand. He had a big smile with teeth missing. Your hand went over your stomach again, an aching pain that was noting but a false labor.

The doctor said it was fine. Women always experienced this right before birth and just take a deep breath but don’t waste your time rushing to the hospital just for them to send you home.

It was normal to be late and that you had a stressful year so it was okay. The doctor mentioned that you still felt contractions which meant you were close. But when it was Tom, every slight indicator of pain you felt meant a freak out where he rushed around the house to get the baby bag and try and get you in the car when in reality, you just had to pee.

“T-That’s really cool.” You wince and the boys face goes from excitement to worry. Within the luck, Tom comes jogging from the parking lot with lunch for the two of you. Hoping to get in the water with the kids and keep an eye on you.

“Hey Angel.” He kissed your cheek but noticed your pain. “Everything okay?” He panicked and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, Ryder here was just showing me how he can do a handstand now—“ you can’t even finish as the pain was strong.

“(Y/n)?” Tom needed to be calm, your face scrunched up as you held your swollen stomach. “Darling, Angel, pretty girl, look at me.” He used all the pet names you liked and you looked up at him with worry in your eyes. “I think it’s time for us to meet the little one.” He nods with a trying smile and you feel an even sharper pain.

“Mmh, I can’t do this.” You breath heavily as you hold onto the stomach. “Yes you can, if you can surf a wave that is 12 feet with no wipeout then you can birth our baby.” He promised and also got the little boy who was so excited to show you his new moves a moment ago to run and get another adult.

“Tom, I-I can’t.” You felt yourself tearing up and he shakes his head. Your heart pounding and mind swarming with worried.

“You can, you will. You are the strongest women I—“ before he can start his motivational speech you cry out in pain.

“Get me in the goddamn car!” You cry and he nods and gets you up before anything worse. He rushes to the hospital as quick as he can, holding your hand and trying to not crash as you hold your stomach and scream.

When he gets to the hospital, he’s still in a wetsuit. They take immediate action into getting you into a room where you are laying with your legs up waiting for a doctor. Holding Tom's hand as you cry.

“Uh sir?” The doctor walks in and looks at the man in the wetsuit. “We’re going to have to ask you to put on scrubs...helps prevent any ourside clothing germs getting on the baby...are you wearing anything under that?” She asked and he immediately started unzipping.

“Jesus tom, not here, she wants you to get changed in the bathroom.” You shake your head as you run your hands over your face. In pain but want to laugh at your worried boyfriend for how he was acting in the moment.

“Right! Right!” He quickly changes from the wetsuit into the scrubs. The doctors look at him funny but let it go as you’re clearly in pain and needing the baby to be out.

“You got this love, you’re doing so good—“ he starts again but you don’t even want to hear it.

“was this really worth two minutes! I’m getting my fucking tubes tied!” You scream at him and he flushes a deep shade of red as one of the nurses giggles.

After one more big push you heard the sound of a cry filled the room. For just a second, all the pain you felt went away as you see the body of your baby, baby boy. You both were right, a beautiful little boy.

“A boy.” Tom breathes out in awe.

“Dad you wanna come cut the cord?” He looked at you for approval and you nodded. He cut the cord with shaky hands, couldn’t focus for the life of him as he just stared at the boy. You only got to hold him for a second before he’s taken off to a bath. Tom following them before they bring him back in a bundle of blankets.

“Oh my…” you hold the beautiful boy. His little lips open just a bit to make a sound while his eyes flutter to adjust to the light. “Look at him tom.” You feel yourself cry and Tom does too.

“Wow, look at you.” He touched the boy's cheek who immediately tried to take the finger into his mouth. “You did that.” He tells you as the two of you admire it.

“We did that.” You tell him and he smiles a bit. “Although yeah, it was mostly me.” The boy stares hard at Tom, Tom who was still in just swim trunks and scrubs.

“Hey, I ate a lot with you during this pregnancy. Even had my own morning sickness.” He teased and you only laughed.

The room going silent for a moment. Hearing the little cooes of your boy as you held him. Toms finger tracing over his cheek when you finally spoke, “Caspian.”

Tom had mentioned how he liked the name for a boy, more than once. It had connections to the water and to Europe so the child would have a bit of both. You had to admit to yourself that you liked it but just wanted to stick with a more casual name. But looking at how he looked at you the moment you said that name, you knew it was the one.

“Caspian?” He repeated and you nodded.

“Caspian Holland.” You told.

He smiled as he kissed your forehead. “Holland? Just that?” He asked as well and you nodded.

“Yeah, yeah just like that.” You smiled. A perfect moment in the perfect situation was interrupted by a small nurse who held a tee shirt.

“Uh sir?” The nurse looked at the two of you and both of your attentions were caught. “So unfortunately we have to ask you to wear a shirt, we got one from the lost and found for you hoping that it would fit.” The shirt read “I’m not as fun as mom” and Tom's face dropped. A proud smirk rises to your face as you look at Tom who’s flared his nostrils just a bit to show his embarrassment.

“Yeah Tom, put on the shirt.” You encouraged and he looked at you. His eyes telling you that you’re going to regret that but you can’t wait 15 years into the future to tell your son.

Sighing as he took the shirt from the poor nurse and sat back down on the chair in a huff.

“You’re never letting me live this one down are you?” Shaking your head you look back down at the boy,

“no, I don’t think we will.” You brought your dry cracked lips down to the boys forehead, you had no water within the past hour and screaming with crying seemed to make you as dead as possible. “Caspian. Caspian Holland.” He whispers again. “Thank you.” He looked at you and you furrowed your brows.

“For everything.” After months of no surfing, months of pain and aches, instead of saying anything back you looked at him and said

“sushi.” Was all you said and he furrowed his brows.

“W-what?” He questioned.

“I need sushi, please.” You sigh and he smiled. Months of being unable to eat any fish that was all you wanted in the moment.

“One California roll coming up.” He kissed your cheek and then the boy's cheek. Calling in the nurse, sending for a California roll and tuna.

Caspian was sleeping soundly in Tom's arms while you ate and rested. Everything was worth it, from the moment he stepped on a plane one summer to Hawaii he knew it was worth it for he found a family in the end.

June.

Once again the sand was squishing under your toes. Feeling each and every grain as you held your baby boy tightly bundled in blankets against your chest as you walked out to the beach. He was freshly bathed, you and Tom took turns. You were so eager the moment you were cleared to get back in the water after birth that the day the doctor cleared you for physical activity, you did it.

But tonight wasn’t you getting in the water, it was you greeting Tom and telling him to come back inside.

“Dinner is done.” You call out to him as he jogs back to the two of you. The baby boy cooing as he sees the ocean and his fathers dripping wet figure coming towards them.

“Hey, look who’s out.” He immediately leans in and kisses all over the pretty baby boy's face. “My sweet boy is so fresh and clean.”

You and Tom had argued about who he had looked more like,You or Tom. he had Tom's nose for sure and his big brown eyes that you knew were going to be trouble. If you had a hard time saying no to Tom when he batted his lashes and gave a glossy look, it was going to be impossible to say no to your beautiful boy.

“He just took a bath. But it wasn’t the ocean.” You smiled and Tom pressed a kiss to your face too.

“Mmh, did you?” He looks at the boy who was yawning in his mother’s arms. “Want to swim a bit?” He asked and you shook your head.

After birth, Tom did a lot of the work. He loved it too. He claimed you needed rest, in which you did, but you would often find him just sitting in the nursery staring at the baby boy. Telling him stories to sleep and kissing his face. He would let you surf, bathe, sleep, all while he took care of your beloved boy.

“No, I’m so tired I think if I use my legs any longer they will snap.” You give a pout and Tom immediately kisses it away.

Tom started to gather his stuff, the beach towel and the bag he normally carried and the moment he started to pack up your baby boy let out a wail.

Within the two months of his birth, you were able to identify each cry. When he was hungry it was more of a gurgle, when he was sleepy it was more strained and forced, when he craved touch it was a whimper sounding cry and then there was this. He was simply upset something did not go his way. May you or Tom stepped away for a moment, the bottle gone too early, but now it was his father packing up his stuff that makes him scream a cry that makes heads turn.

“What’s the matter bubs?” Tom pouts as he sets the stuff down and comes over to him.

Once the stuff is set down the cries settle just a bit, settle enough until tom takes him out of your arms and presses him up against his body.

Still wet from the surf, you both think the baby liked it. While Tom occupied little Caspian, you picked up the towels and his bag for him and once again the boy let out a wail cry which made you and Tom furrow your brows.

“I-I don’t know what it is. I-I changed him and I bathed him and he was perfectly fine and—“ you start to panic and as you panic you drop the stuff which calms his cries. Tom immediately took notice and grew a smile that made his heart flutter in his chest.

“(Y/n),” he stops you and you look up at him with a worried look as if you’ve done something wrong. “He wants to stay. He wants to stay on the beach.” Tom says in a calm voice and the boy was now only cooing in Tom's arms. He bounced gently but mostly cooed as his daddy smiled at him.

“H-He knows we’re leaving the beach.” You sigh and come over to the boys. Petting your sons head as he relaxes in his fathers arms.

“Like I’ve always said, just like his mama.” Tom smiled up at you and you caught his lips for a kiss. “Well…” you rub your hands on your thigh, wiping off the sand you got stuck all over your hands. “Since Caspian always gets his way, I better bring dinner out here.” You smile as you poke at the sweet boys face and Tom moves and has a serious face.

“(Y/n), no, you can’t just whip out your boob in front of—OW! I’m kidding!” You smacked his arm for the stupid comment he made that at first had you worried.

“I hate you. I’m bringing out the dinner.” You start to walk off and he smiles.

“You love us!” He shouts back.

“Just Caspian! You? Not much you. remember...you’re not as fun as mom!” You call out to him, sending him a wink and he wants to say something back but he holds his tounge.

Looking down at the baby boy he says, “when I teach you how to surf I need you to beat mums ass a few times while you’re out there. Just for her little comments.” Tom spoke to the boy and he cooes. “Atta boy.” With that he plots down on the sand towel.

Setting caspian down on the towel for just a moment so he can strip from his wetsuit and be closer to him. You come back out balancing the plates of food for you and Tom as you seat next to them and eat. Leaning your head on Toms shoulder and kissing at it.

You never knew that one competition, one amateur British boy and one shared basket of fish and chips could lead you to the best moments of your life. Could lead you to the best family you’ve ever had.

Please leave feedback! It helps me grow as a writer and lets me know what more you want to see!

Permanent Taglist: @hoodiesparker @dahliaspidey @parkersvibes @itssss-a-bean @ppkrtingle @myfinalwords @bocaul @tinyplanet-explorers @sincerlyfan @softbaby-Tom @awesomeblackcottontail @rosebeegraham @stormyholland @unicorn-princess-1999 9 @spideyyypeter @marshyrebelcloud @oh-epiphany @yeahimcrying @highlydisfunctional1 @disgustangg @pterstingle @quacksonhq @starlightparker @reblogsfics @tomsrebeleyebrow @dreamyyholland @imaginashawnns @alilpunkrock k @peterspideysenses @lovely-valllll @lowkey-holland @hannaholland1811 @kthemarsian @maryjane23 @jillianaholland @dummiesshort @paracutepants @heartofholland d @quacksonhehe @tomhollandssecuritygaurd @illicitparker @ladykxxx08 @bellelittleoff @peterbenjiparker @cherthegoddess @namoreno @sunsetholland @lillatina004 @peterparkersbabygurl @augustdowney @a-daydreamers-day @spideyspeaches @sinisterspidey @mathletemadison

#dad!tom #surfer!tom #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #imagine tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland au #tom holland x you #tom holland angst #Tom Holland fic #Tom Holland fan fic #tom holland fan fiction

452 notes · View notes

lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks · 3 years ago

Note

I hope your doing okay💕

Why dont we shift your focus. It helps me when I get overwhelmed.

So I had this realization a while ago about Danny being OP as heck.

If you stick to the typical "oh no I fell through a portal" crossover take.

How angsty do you think other heroes would be when they realize Danny is pretty much his worlds only hero.

And he doesn't just protect the living. He protects the dead too.

He is solely responsible for two dimensions.

That's a lot.

And he's had zero training and almost no help.

And he's one of the few of his kind.

You can do DC or marvel with this take. Im not picky💕

thank you for sending me this when I was having a rough time that was very thoughtful of you 💖 I have actually been really excited to answer it! (I've just been surprisingly busy/mentally exhausted and had to go through some older asks first)

but yeah this is one of my favourite concepts that like 90% of my maladaptive daydreams love to chew on

because hot diggity damn when you compare him to other media, there are entire superhero organisations or societies built around superheroes where they have mentors and training and backup

Danny gets none of that

he has some human friends, a potential mentor who comes with a steep and patricidal price tag, a bunch of incompetent ghost hunters who also hunt him, one actually pretty competent ghost hunter that not only also hunts him, but does so with a personal vengeance, and the god of time who is only about as vaguely helpful as most omniscient characters ever are

and yeah he not only does he have to protect humans from ghosts, but also has to protect them from the humans who once tried to actually destroy their entire dimension???

bruh he has fought minor gods, a whole ass government agency, his own parents, and he's 14 years old, I couldn't even order a fucking burger at McDonalds at that age without being paralysed with anxiety, imagine having the life of the world on your shoulders?

throw him into the Marvel, DC or MHA universes and they would be fucking horrified

I ACHE for fanfiction that gives me this content, and I find so little of it, like the concept is definitely hanging around a few fics but I just haven't found a fic that really puts the weight behind it, that stomach dropping moment of realisation when an adult looks at this child and realises what he's been through, how it's unlike anything they're own students or protégés have ever been through before because they've always had someone to turn to, they've always had backup

this kid is his world's first line of defence, and the last

he has to fight with the knowledge that whatever gets past him will not be stopped

there's no All Might, there's no Superman, there's no Avengers, there's just a 14 year old kid who has no idea what he's doing

that's it

and you know what makes it so much worse?

is that if Danny is flung via portal shenanigans into one of these universes, he gets to see what he could have had, he gets to feel what it's like to share the burden, to have someone support you and help you

but Danny can't stay there, he has to get home

and then you have these superheroes, who see this child who they so desperately want to keep and protect, but he needs to go home, they have to send him back to that world where he's alone again, where he has no one to help him, where he's living a life absolutely none of them would ever let the children in their own care suffer

fucking. ouch

and then there's Danny, being the recipient of all this pity, and loathing it, yes he wishes he could have lived in this world, he wishes he could have had help, but he didn't, he's not just a child anymore, he's a god damn seasoned warrior

so when they talk to him in pitying tones and try to tell him that at least while he's in their dimension he doesn't have to worry about everything, they can look after him, they can train him, they can make sure he's safe, he feels completely condescended, infantilised

nothing these heroes can do will ever change what he's already had to go through, and by this point in his development, they probably couldn't help him anyway, he's already stronger than most of them

he defeated the King of the Dead in single combat, to insinuate that some basic ass villain heist is Too Dangerous for Children, is a fucking insult

and why should he even trust them? since when has an adult ever not let him down? there were a few old ghosts he trusted but most of those ghosts wore their motivations on their sleeves, humans were a whole different beast, a lot better at hiding their ulterior motives

and besides, even if he did trust them, it's not like he can take all these promises back home with him, letting himself get used to other people fighting battles, growing attached to mentors who will always have his back, it would only make it hurt more when he was home again, back to how it always was

as his world's first, last, and only line of defence

I could probably go on but I'm nodding off and the words are swimming so I should probably end here before I fall asleep and accidentally exit out or something ✨

#asks #danny phantom #you'd be amazed at how many posts I have to hard blink the last couple paragraphs through #I fall asleep writing on my phone all the time #lula's headcanons #lula's aus

236 notes · View notes

johnsamericano · 3 years ago

Note

Can do a fic about dilf doyoung is your Father's friend but u have a secret relationship with him them one day he got you preggo so u moved in with him plsssss also put a lot of smut shshshhshsh pls I hope you read this.

Hi there! My requests are currently closed but I can never resist writing dilf!Doyoung so you’re lucky. There's not THAT much smut in this because I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. Hope you like it!

warnings: dirty talking, sex, language, use of the name daddy, spanking, unexpected pregnancy, age gap.

“What’s the meaning of this invitation, Mr. Kim?” You inquired, walking past the front door with a gym bag hanging from your shoulder. “It's not every day you invite me to a private swimming party.”

“Very funny.” He welcomed you with a hug, his warm, naked chest pressed against your covered one. “Jeno’s out with his friends. He won't come back until tomorrow.”

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? I wanted to be with him.” That response earned you a slap in the ass, hard enough to serve as a warning not to keep testing his patience.

“Get changed. I'll wait for you in the hot tub.”

You locked yourself in the nearest bathroom, quickly yanking off your clothes to replace them with a baby blue bikini. You knew how much he loved the matching set, not as much as taking it off you, of course.

Wanting to make him wait for a while longer, you neatly folded your clothes and placed them over your sleeping wear inside the bag you'd brought with you.

“Took you long enough.” He was sitting inside the water, his arms spread wide as he gave you a less than amused look. “Come here.”

Despite how dominant he might look on the outside, he never managed to fool you. As soon as you were between his arms, your face was guaranteed to be covered with kisses from his soft lips.

“I missed you this past few weeks.” His wet thumb traced figures over your arm, avoiding looking into your eyes. “Why haven't you visited?”

Your fingers played with the small, grey hairs covering the nape of his neck.

“It's getting harder to hide it from Jeno, and I know if he ever found out, our friendship would be over. I don't wanna lose him.”

“He’ll find out, better sooner than later.” The look on your face must've given away your thoughts. “What? Did you think this was just something casual?”

“I mean...” His jaw dropped, arms falling into the water with a splash. “Look, you have to understand me. We started right after your wife left, I thought you were using me to forget her. And I didn't mind-”

“Using you?” Just a few millimeters and his eyebrows would be touching. “Have you always thought so low of me?”

“Doyoung...”

“I want a future with you, y/n. Not just an occasional fuck but an actual relationship, and if you don't feel the same about me, then we might as well end things here.” This was the first time you'd seen him mad, with his whole face red from anger and the warmth of the jacuzzi, he looked as if he were about to explode.

“Of course I do. But it's complicated.” The red shade tinting his cheeks and ears, slowly faded. “No one would accept our relationship, for starters.”

“I couldn't care less about other’s opinions.”

In less than a second, his lips crashed against yours, hard. But there was a hint of sweetness in his wild movements, the way his hands caressed your back while his tongue worked its way inside your mouth aggressively.

“Already so eager?” He asked as your heat rubbed itself against his clothed cock. “Not here.”

“What...?”

The muscles in his legs tensed as he stood up with you still between his arms. He was strong, for a man of his age, of course.

“I’m afraid that I've been fucking you the wrong way, which might have been the reason for you to have the wrong idea about us.” Leaving a trail of water drops behind you, you climbed up the stairs leading to the second floor, where his room was located. “Scratch that. No more fucking, from now on, I'm gonna make love to you.”

“Have you always been this cheesy?” Your feet touched the floor as he removed his hands from below your thighs, slightly pushing you until the back of your knees touched the mattress.

“Don’t make me change my mind and spank that pretty ass.”

“Rude.” You let yourself fall on the fresh comforter, dragging him down with you.

“Take your clothes off for me, won't you?” He busied himself pulling down his swimming trunks while you struggled with the knot keeping your bra in place. “Such a silly, little girl. Can't do anything without her daddy, can her?”

“Please.” Even though you hated being humiliated, your core didn't seem to bother. His degrading words only caused your essence to form an even larger patch on your bikini. “Doyoung...”

“Fine.” His cock was standing proudly, his tip dripping with small beads of precum. “On your knees and turn around.”

He worked through the knots as fast as his trembling fingers allowed him to. His mouth was aching to say the special words he'd been keeping to himself for a while now, but he didn't have enough courage yet.

“Ready.” The straps fell down your arms, tickling the skin as they slid.

You took the last piece of your suit off, finally allowing your body to be consumed by the humidity of the summer evening. Doyoung was quicker to enter you than usual. No teasing, just lovemaking as he’d promised earlier.

“You’re so warm.” His lips were attached to your collarbone, sucking to leave a mark big enough for everyone to see. “Your little cunt takes me so well. No one else could make me feel as good as you do.”

With his hips pistoning your hole, your fingers found their way to the nape of his neck, dancing over the tender skin. The way you were looking at each other, so intimate and full of affection, had the words he'd been wanting to say rushing out of his lips.

“I love you.” His movements faltered as if waiting for you to give him any type of answer.

“What’s with that scared face?” You giggled, every inch of your skin flushed with embarrassment and desire. “I love you too.” He loved how young you made him feel, like a silly teenager confessing to his crush only to find out his feelings were reciprocated.

His thrusts resumed, this time slower, deeper, making sure you felt every single ridge and vein of his cock. His length caressed your walls oh so deliciously, bringing you closer and closer to your high. Until someone had to ruin it.

“Dad, where are you?” In a rush, Doyoung pulled out, not even noticing how his seed spilled out of your hole. Fear had taken over the pleasure.

“Get in the bathroom, he probably just forgot something. Don't worry.”

As he'd said, Jeno was quick to leave. Not even ten minutes later, Doyoung was back in his room, announcing Jeno’s little getaway got extended.

“So that means, you can stay for a while longer. Only if you want of course.” The bathtub was filling with warm water and bubbles he'd added. “Or we can go on our own trip, whatever you want.” You felt at ease between his arms, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

Who would've thought you'd be losing your mind a few weeks later because of the same man that had given you so much peace before.

“How could you forget to wear protection?!”

“Don't treat me as if I were the only one responsible for this situation.” You hid your face between the warmth of your palms, supporting the side of your head against the window. “Look at me, baby.”

You shook your head, tears starting to slip between your fingers.

“I’m here for you, darling. Whatever you want to do, I'll fully support you.” His thumb traced the shape of the shell of your ear.

“I don't know what I want to do.”

“We still have time to help you figure things out, okay?” There was a certain sadness to his tone, almost as if his hopes were vanishing.

He didn't want to get rid of it, but being pregnant was a burden that you'd have to carry alone as much as he tried to help. It was your choice and only yours.

“I want to have it, but I don't even have a job or economical support. My parents would kill me if they found out. And Jeno, oh boy, he'd have a heart attack.”

“You have me, y/n. And even though I can't do anything about other people's reactions, I'll always be by your side.”

Doyoung wasn't lying. He walked you through every step, even assumed part of the responsibility when talking to your parents, who didn't react as badly as you'd foreseen.

“Just make sure you're making the right choice.” They'd said.

Jeno was the last person to find out.

“Oh, hey y/n. Were you waiting for me?” He dropped the sports bag right in front of de door.

“We have to tell you something.”

“We?” The look on his face was almost comical as if life had been sucked out of his handsome features.

“Yes, we.” Doyoung laced his fingers with yours, tightly locking your hands together.

His father explained the situation calmly, making sure to use the right words to avoid scaring him away. By the time he was done, Jeno was just staring at you with an emotionless face.

“Jeno?” Your heart dropped at the thought of losing your friend. “Say something, please.”

“You want me to say something?”

There was a small, dramatic pause to add some tension to his words. But the mood lightened as soon as his eyes became crescent moons.

“Bold of you to assume I wasn't aware of your little relationship.” He giggled. “It's okay, guys. You're both adults and I trust you know what you're doing.”

“What the hell is going on?” Your thoughts slipped out of your mouth.

“Thank you, Jeno.” Doyoung mouthed, squeezing your shoulder.

“Man, I always wanted a little brother.” He walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you and his father's neck.

“I rather have a girl this time.”

“Should I call you mom?” Jeno teasingly asked, poking the back of your head.

“Try me.”

(...)

As you folded your clothes and placed them in your new closet, the sun started setting. The light sound of sizzling could be heard from the room, probably Doyoung cooking dinner.

“Y/n!” He shouted from downstairs. “Come help me set the table.”

“Coming!” You set aside the remaining boxes. There were not many clothes left to unpack, so you could finish after eating.

You tiptoed on your way downstairs, accomplishing to scare him with a surprise back hug.

“Stop, you could've burnt yourself.” He scolded, undoing your hug only to quickly pull you by his side moments later.

“Is it me or are you getting a little too overprotective?”

“Am not!” His eyebrows quivered like they did every time he lied.

“Really? Then why haven't we had sex ever since you found out I was pregnant?” Your hand teasingly traced figures on his lower abdomen, a little too close to the stove he was using.

“You’re gonna get burnt.” Once again, he tried to push you away, but your hand remained in the same position. “Baby...”

“Uh-uh, you're not gonna sweet-talk your way out. Why won't you touch me anymore? Have I lost my charm or something?”

“What? No!” He turned off the stove, completely turning to his side to face you. “I just don't wanna hurt the baby.”

“Bullshit. You know it's still safe to do it, you already had one son, for god's sake.” Your arms were crossed over your slightly swollen mounds. “I want the truth.”

“I’m telling you the truth...” There was no nervous quiver from his eyebrows, but his tone was less than convincing.

“The whole truth, Doyoung.”

There was no way out, he had to tell you what he'd been trying to hurry at the back of his head for weeks now.

“I can't stop thinking that the only reason we became official is because of this baby, and I'm afraid if you lose it, I'll lose you as well.” It seemed as if your roles had reversed, as if he was the youngest, the most immature.

“Idiot.” You flicked his forehead with anger, later pulling him into a bear hug. “Get those stupid ideas out of your little head or I'll have to slap them out of you.”

“Rude much.”

“I told you once before we found out about the baby...” Your lips were achingly close to his, ready to kiss those soft, pink pillows. “I love you.”

Your eyes were stuck on his lips, too busy to notice how his eyes started sparkling, the edge of them trying to contain his tears. After a while, you looked up, his nostalgic expression puzzling you.

“I’m sorry, it's the hormones.” He sniffled.

“That's not how pregnancy works, honey.”

#nct smut #nct angst #nct au #nct imagines #nct ot21 #nct x reader #nct #nct 127 #nct scenarios #nct doyoung

194 notes · View notes

genderqueerpositivity · 3 years ago

Text

I guess I'll go ahead and do a 5 month HRT update today, because a few folks have asked how that is going. On Friday I'll officially be 5 months on T, which is just unbelievable???

CW: changes from HRT, talking about periods, eating habits, changes to body parts and gentials, sex drive, etc

My dose increased in June, so I've been applying daily .75 ml of a 100 mg/ml cream since then. I can't say that I've noticed an increase in how fast things are happening since increasing my dose. Some changes are still happening slowly and steadily, while it feels like others have backed off a bit.

My voice hasn't changed significantly since I last posted screenshots from the voice analyzer app. I'm fine with that? I really like my voice how it is now. It would be great if it drops more in the future, but I think I would also be fine if it doesn't?

My voice has gotten me he/him'd and sir'd a few times. My voice is now my most visibly trans feature and it's a powerful one. I recently showed someone my driver's license (which has not been changed) and filled out paperwork with my legal name (also not changed) and I was still consistently called he and sir the entire time, and I wasn't making any special attempt at passing, not even wearing a binder.

One thing I do wish is that I could get back to being able to speak as loudly as I did pre-T. In loud areas it feels like I'm constantly being told now that I need to speak up. Especially at work, it's difficult to lead meetings and even have one on one conversations. Being loud enough to be heard over background noise takes a lot more effort than it did back when I had a naturally high voice. Trying to force a louder voice for long periods of time leaves me with a sore throat. I think this is because I haven't gotten the hang of the whole "speaking from my chest" thing.

Body hair is still happening steadily. I have so much back hair now. Toe hair. Hair on the tops of my hands. Sideburns. Hair on my upper arms and upper legs. Butt hair, chest hair, and belly hair. Really this is getting ridiculous but I actually really like it. I had a diagnosis of hirsutism pre-T but now I see that my pre-T body and facial hair was nothing compared to this lol.

I've still been shaving my facial hair pretty regularly, because I wear a mask for 8 hours a day and it itches my face a lot. But I'm starting to really want to grow it out for a few weeks to see what it looks like on me. I'm a little nervous about what other people might think, and also about it possibly looking patchy and weird. But I also really want a break from shaving irritation and ingrown hairs, and I want to see if I'll like having my face unshaven or not.

Either I've gotten used to it, or my skin isn't as oily as it was at first. My skin is definitely still breaking out in places though. I didn't have this much acne during my first puberty. I definitely sweat more than I used to, but also it's August here so that could just be the humidity lol. I've noticed some changes to my shoulders, upperarms, and forearms for sure; they look more masculine and I've gained some muscle there and I like it. I've surprised myself with my own strength a few times, which is pretty cool.

*skip the next three short paragraphs if you don't want to read about periods or vague comments about bottom growth and sex*

Sadly my period hasn't stopped yet. I'm tracking it with an app, so I do know that they're happening less frequently now, are shorter (which means only 7 days and not 9+) and are lighter than ever before. I have fewer PMS symptoms now, and less pre-period sensory issues. Even my cramps are and feel different now; they seem less sharp and more manageable.

I'm actually really disappointed that my bottom growth appears to have stopped. I was hoping for more of that. I hope that what I've gotten so far isn't all there is, because I know that it varies a lot by person. I don't really know what would be considered an average amount of growth at this point, and I don't know what to expect personally overall.

In related news, I understand now why so many transmasc people complain about their sex drive increasing on T....because that is definitely a thing. And let's just say that things work kind of differently down there now, and I like the changes. I've also had a few experiences lately that have caused me to question my gray-asexuality a bit, so that sure is...something. Sexual attraction is odd--and this keeps happening to allosexual people, like forever? Sounds fake.

Other minor stuff:

I haven't noticed a change in appetite since starting T, but I do think I have less of a sweet tooth. Even when do I crave sweets now, I want less than I did before. And it seems like I'm more likely to have a stomachache after eating them. I don't really know why this is or if this is entirely HRT related.

I haven't lost any hair and I don't think my hairline has changed any yet. I have so much gray hair now though wtf.

I can still cry. I've cried today in fact (they were happy tears, no worries). I think I am quicker to get an attitude now though? I've had a few moments lately where afterwards I was like...."damn I really said all that out loud, huh".

As much as all of this is, I feel like I look the same as I did pre-T. The changes to my appearance haven't been drastic at all. I expected that by 5-6 months, I wouldn't be able to hide the fact that I'm on T anymore, but it looks like that isn't the case. I'm not out at work at all, and if anyone has noticed the changes, no one has said a word to me about it. Apart from the week or so around the time where I lost my voice (it was assumed that I was sick), and a single comment making fun of my facial hair (which I already had some of pre-T), not even my parents have caught on to what I'm doing. And regardless of how that all turns out in the end, I'm not going to regret doing this. Choosing to move forward with HRT has been one of my best life choices so far.

I've realized that I definitely feel more positive about my body now than I did pre-T. Showers and baths are more enjoyable. I went swimming last month for the first time in years and it was a blast. This has all been so worth it.

My next HRT appointment is in less than a month. And I've just realized that I'm might have to reschedule it, so that's fun. Anyway, if the lab tests come back good and I'm given the chance to increase my dose again at that appointment, I'm going to take it.

#hrt journal #hrt diary #genderqueer #transmasculine #ftm #op #personal #menstruation tw #gentials tw #food tw

79 notes · View notes

binniesthighs · 4 years ago

Text

multifandom soulmate aus ✨

soulmate (n): a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

✨ a/n: hello hello!! today on, “Ro’s self indulgent fics” ehehe i’ve been thinking a lot about some of my favorite kpop besties and how i feel like sometimes in a group, there’s the members who just stick like glue and it’s kinda like they were destined to meet that way! anyway hehe this concept is so fkn cute to me so i wanted to make some poly r-ship headcannons with some of my favorites!

➛ disclaimer: the pairings that i use are def not all inclusive of all “soulmate” pairings out there, just the ones i know of atm! also, i know some of these groups better than others, so some will be more specific, and others a little more general!

✨ groups included: stray kids, ateez, the boyz, monsta x, seventeen, txt, bts

✨ feedback is always appreciated! who’s your favorite?✨

➛maybe if we’re feelin’ spicy i can do a part 2 with the ones i haven’t done yet ;)

Pairing: idol x female reader x idol (see fandoms above!)

Genre: fluff n’ smut

Tags: established r/ship au, poly r-ship, sexual content (the usual stuff also including unprotected sex-please stay safe!) comfort ahhh, mentions of food alcohol

*all photocreds go to ops :)

both sfw and nsfw under the snip snip!

♡ chanlix ♡

sfw

omg where the hell do i start with chanlix we love our cannon soulmates

arguably the softest fkn pairing on this list; being soulmates with chanlix is like meeting your other halves (thirds?). there’s some serious destiny at work here!!

the three of you understand each other on a spiritual level--almost to the point where you could likely read their minds if you wanted to try haha. there’s also a really, really strong type of emotional intimacy that you share with them that’s out of this world.

this soulmate bond is so fkn strong, the three of you could go through any hardships and come out of it stronger than ever!

the three of you have cute lil nicknames for eachother that you thought up yourselves!

your families are close as heck! it’s really pure how by the three of you so many people can get close ahhh

i think that chanlix would be really into more outdoorsy dates? camping, swimming, hiking, sightseeing, stargazing, picnics etc! felix also loves taking you on food tours!

bc chan is chan, he really takes on such a protective role over you and felix, he would quite literally do anything for you two: forgot your notebook or documents on the way to work/school? he’ll drop everything to bring them to you. sad? he’ll get you your favorite food, tons of blankets, his hoodie to wear and your favorite movie/tv show to watch with you! if anyone hurts your feelings too he will square tf up.

felix is the world’s most adoring boyfriend in so, so many ways. not only is he such a cuddle bug, he shows you that he cares with tons of acts of service similar to chan! this comes in the form of his baking of course and other silly little gifts he sees that reminds you of him. he isn’t the best at words sometimes, but will soothe you by giving you a little massage or by playing with your hair!

nsfw

okay...😏 damn i’ve been wanting to write some poly chanlix so fkn bad ahhhh

once again i really see chan taking the lead in more intimate situations. he really likes giving directions and seeing both you and felix carry them out! honestly he gets a bit of an ego boost seeing the both of you all whiny and fucked out ahhh

here i come with my softsub!felix agenda oops hehe but this boy is frickin’ angelic for you and chan oml, he always asks for permission before he does things and eats praise up with a fkn spoon. praises alone really get him off: “does lixie like it when i play with his cute cock like this?”

there’s something that gets the three of you ridiculously amped when you do all kinds of roleplay scenarios FRICK some favorites are pet play (you and lix being the kitties) teacher/student, roleplaying strangers, sex slaves, artist/muse, oh my god there was a halloween where you once did vampire roleplay you still think about it 🤤

since the three of you are so comfortable with eachother, experimentation feels really safe! for example, the suggestion of shibari came up and now....let’s just say lix looks really pretty tied up ;)

chan’s got a huuuuge (cock) and size kink!! he really likes topping both you and lix and seeing a bulge omg.... also when he can bulge your throats mmmhm!

felix loves it especially when you ride his face, and he cold do it for hours! he looks so cute between your legs when he licks over and over your clit. he’ll ask you too if he’s doing good and you better say yes ;)

favorite position would be all cuddled up and cozy with the two of them double penetrating you real nice and slow with tons of kisses and just touchin’ all over

cockwarming cockwarming all day, every single time, without fail, it feels wrong if you finish without it!

♡ woosan ♡

sfw

idk why but the first thing that comes to my mind is that in certain settings, ya’ll are loud as fuck AHA i guess what i mean to say as that as a trio, you are all super, super unapologetic and confident when around each other! this might have lead to you getting kicked out of a couple bowling alleys and karaoke places before...

there’s a type of unspoken understanding that the three of you have that makes your bond so special. while you love eachother so dearly, it isn’t something that you really feel needs to be said out loud, it kind of just is!

woosan are already really clingy on their own and when you come along?? you all can’t keep your hands off each other!! ya know how in movies there’s the whole “hand in the back pocket of your jeans???” woosan!!

their energy together is so fkn chaotic but that's why you love them! they never fail to make you laugh and this is also the best way that they know how to cheer you up!

Bc the three of you are a bit unbridled, it’s a bit hard to be serious at times when you go on dates/hang out with friends together so often you get some affectionate eye rolls haha

wooyoung is someone that will try anything with you! hehe even if he knows that he mind not be that into it, he’ll still go with you! of course, he might say something snarky but he really does love just spending time with you! wooyoung also shares you with all his friends (changbin, yeonjun) so lowkey it feels like you’re one of the bros at times LOL

san is a big fan of giving you gifts! oh also! words of affirmation too, san is someone who knows your insecurities well, so hypes you tf up all the time!! he especially loves buying things for you that he knows you’ll look pretty in just so he can compliment you ahhh

at the end of the day however, there’s nothing more more that the three of you love than the tightest cuddles ever as you fall asleep! honestly, sometimes its a little too tight haha

nsfw

THESE BOYS FKN RAVISH YOU LIKE YOU’RE A FIVE COURSE MEAL

and of course they expect the same from you as well! i mean....can you blame them??? these boys are sexy as hell and they frickin’ know it!!

i have this super clear image of both of them stripping you down and rubbing massage oil all over your body and then giving you the turn to do it to them my lord...

sort of along this line, temperature play makes these boys feral. wax, ice, blowies with popsicles you name it

both of them really just like being touched all over because they have the prettiest dancer’s bodies and just feeling hands on their muscles makes them loose it.

wooyoung loves to mark the hell out the both of you in a really territorial way: all over your chests and necks even on your thighssss

san, while he often does find himself in sub space, really easily can switch to dom you in the most beautiful way. everything with him is really intimate and raw: if this wasn’t already obvious haha he would like have a hand kink and loves seeing the way that his fingers look pumping in and out of your entrance and how your juices look as well.

back too wooyoung, he’s the king of oral. whether it’s going down on you and sucking at your clit or deep throating with master level skill...foreplay is never boring with him!

in my brain, i can see the both of them filling nearly position so this makes for an interesting dynamic to say the least AHA

every once and a while, they’ll let you take complete control of the both of them while they just sit back and watch you with the most smug-ass grins that you’ll see in your life!

AH another thought: woosan fkn love when you squirt on them, in any way this might look: when you’re nearly screaming in your overstimulation they want it all over them.

favorite position would be 69 threesome style with all of your sloppy moans in-between <3

♡ moonbae ♡

sfw

HEAR ME OUT the king of soulmates that know that they are soulmates but don’t take it seriously in the slightest istg this is my most favorite dynamic ahhhh

there is not one dull day with these two boys, they’ll have you laughing in stiches until you can barely breathe like, the best kind of wheezy, silent laughter ya know what i’m talking about

INSIDE JOKES literally so many inside jokes with the three of you

Kevin is never scared to call your ass out, but that’s bc he knows you so well!! it’s all just jokes don’t ya worry ;)

Along this line, your groupchat like has some random-ass name that’s also an inside joke

Jacob on the other hand is the biggest sweetheart when it comes to you, boy frickin’ melts. There is not a day that goes by when he hasn’t told you he loves ya morning and night.

Also the best listener in the whole world, you can tell him anything and everything and he’s just sit and listen and give advice.

Kevin loves you a ton a ton but just shows it differently! He remembers all the little things about you that you tell him to the point it’s scary how he does it so well

Meme king Kevin would send you memes that remind him of you and Jacob

Lowkey i can see the both of them getting into the cutest petty arguments like which one of them you love more or think is more talented AHA again it’s all in good fun hehe

it goes without saying but...it’s cuddle central up in here.

THEY WOULD SERENADE TF OUT OF YOU oh my god it’s literally heavenly, Kevin would play piano and Jacob would play guitar FRICK

You have oddly specific dates?? Like they would pick a movie to go see that the three of you would all hate just to meme the whole time. Jacob would still get invested accidentally tho.

The way to both of these boy’s hearts is their stomachs so when you cook for them they would quite literally do anything for you

nsfw

ok ok so i’m a baby deobi so this is the gist of what i’m getting (i also did a little research LOL thank you @ deobi smutblr hehe)

firstly i would like to say that i’m manifesting thigh riding with Jacob and i literally can’t think of anything else for some reason just p h e w and BOY does he love it too he thinks its so fkn cute to watch you!

i get heavy, heavy switch vibes from Kevin with maybe some sub leanings??? either way, jacob def has soft dom vibes (oh god and occasional soft sub) to me but also has no problem with you taking control and doing what you like to him if that’s what you desire!

kevin is impatient impatient and does not do well with your teasing. also...loud as hell, like, sometimes you have to tell him that he needs to calm tf down hehe (but of course you love it when he gets like that)

separately, both of them are very different experiences i think: kevin is a fan of hard and fast, kitchen counter over the sofa type stuff sloppy toppy in risky places, and he loves to experiment too!

jacob is also really different where he likes much, much more slow and intimate stuff like missionary, shower sex, real atmospheric stuff like candles and nice scents ahhh BIG fan of really fluffy pet names too like baby, princess, angel etc. super visual too omggg gets hard when you strip for him i think ;)

together it’s a fkn whirlwind i’ll tell ya that. its like, honestly the most unique experience i can think of on this list because the two of them are so different. i will say that it can end up being really giggly and sweet tho!

when it’s the three of you, kevin’s dom side comes out a little more so you’re left with these two lovely boys who want to give you all the attention! it’s lowkey a competition lol

favorite position is when you’re sucking jacob off and kevin gets to do literally whatever the hell he wants with your pussy...i imagine that it might have to do a lot with edging if you ask me ;)

♡ jookyun ♡

sfw

oddly, i find myself soft af for jookyun and idk how to describe it haha (considering that they can often be hard as hellll)

the three of you are also really nonchalant, but this is really in the way that you just feel as if you’ve known eachother for a really long time!

as we know, jookyun were a bit of an enimies to lovers arc (AHA) so with the time that they’ve spent building their bond, it’s strong asf!

i like to think that jooheon and changkyun would really get a ton of artistic inspiration from you for their music. since both of them write and often reflect bc of this, you’re totally their muse! (they’ll write some nasty as hell lyrics thanks to you too LOL)

while our lovely thicc mx boys have unbridled confidence at times, really, they are babie. and they are frickin weak for your pampering.

because of this, the two of them would become flustered as all hell when you do lil things for them!! this could be making them some lunch or just giving them the off compliment that they look a lil extra handsome that day.

your safe place is with them!! ahhh i would also like to add the number of slick ass grabs when you’re in public is a bit off the chain at times ahah

the duality of this r/ship is really something to note LOL when you go out and about when the two of them you certainly get some stares bc they look a lil intimidating at times but when you and your boyfriends cuddle up on the subway you give all passerby's whiplash haahah

Kyun is someone who is insanely romantic. almost to the point that it is cheesy haha he’d treat the both of you to expensive ass dinners, beach vacations and maybe even matching couple’s jewelry like rings or bracelets!

jooheon on the other hand is a little more toned down haha but has another side to him that fkn swells with pride knowing how breathtaking you both are...frankly, his ego skyrockets knowing that he’s got you both for arm candy if this make sense teehee

the three of you call eachother “babe” interchangeably, so it can get a bit confusing when you’re all in the same place and someone says “hey babe?” you need a new nickname ooP

nsfw

hello and here i am to push the sub!changkyun agenda. first and foremost i would like to explain how this man is such a pillow princess with the most lovely bratty edge *sighs* all that kyun wants is for you to fkn use him and do literally whatever the hell you want!! this man daydreams about you riding him right then and there wherever the hell he is.

also, kyun is the king of toys, both using them on you and on himself! need i also say breath play as well in the same giving and receiving form? more than anything he loves it when jooheon wraps his hand around his neck hooooly ahhh he prefers it when you tease his tip with a vibrator until he’s angrily red and begging for you to give him a break just for you to bend down and give a kiss to his pearly head which makes him jolt

jooheon is often more of a soft to hard dom if you ask me and takes care of both you and kyun really well. also... he will manhandle the hell out of you if you feel up for it (cough cough your arm kink for him ) oh shit and his thighs....don't’ even get me started

while the three of you often opt for the hard and fast (even in some more risque places--such as in the recoding studio) there are really some more intimate times that you share too!

on one of changkyun’s vacations, in the middle of the night, when no one was in sight and the hot tub was free for use...it started out as a bit of making out but then turned into something else when you decided to straddle jooheon and he let his hands creep under the straps of your swimsuit...needless to say you were bouncing on both of their dicks while you were warmed by the crackling bubbles

at times, jookyun can get a little needy and impatient without you, so this has lead to a couple situations where you walk in on them letting out their frustrations ;) of course, immediately then they’d love for you to join!

kyun has an oral fixation too, sooo he may or may not love cockwarming with his mouth or sucking your fingers lightly when you go to suck his dick~

♡ junhao ♡

sfw

here me out with this one...but...there’s something really intimate about this relationship?? oh how to put this into words LOL junhao also have an insanely deep bond that really transcends if ya ask me haha

while they both can be really goofy around eachother when comfortable the soulmate vibes are just...immaculate! this is all i can say? all three of you are just so connected in the way that you accept each other for all that you are and just kind of naturally gravitate towards each other even before you really knew that there were romantic feelings involved!

first, i would like to say that out of all the pairings on this list, you three are classy as FUCK. seeing the three of you next to eachother is like seeing literally three models in the flesh. the way that you dress (sometimes even to match a little) is unbelievable bc you all just look so good?

hand holdingggg wherever you go! holding hands across cafe tables, playing with each other’s hands absentmindedly hehe

TRAVEL BUDDIES you would go anywhere with them and take tons of pics!! i mean the prettiest pics

hao shows his love for you in the form of so many things, all of which he makes himself!! you inspire his physical art and drawings which he shares with you and he also loves to take clothes too and personalize them for you!

jun on the other hand would take you to the studioooo and you could watch him danceee oh my gosh he’s literally so breathtaking and he would be dancing just for you with every curve of his body he’s so magical :’) then he’d ask you for feedback and you’d just be speachless...also loves to make you smile!! just being his goofy self he’s the best at it and thinks you’re so cute!

there’s a ton of adoration in this relationship! tons of cute little displays of skinship that might look like a poke in the cheek or the fluffing of their hair ahh

still, i feel like you would have kind of silly little nicknames for them that match their personalities and perhaps...you could have matching phone cases with these nicknames....

in this relationship there’s a ton of quiet moments that are really peaceful and indulgent such as watching sunsets, drinking wine together, just talking about life n stuff like that!

nsfw

hellz yeah we’re in for some more intimate-ass fuckin! but also....😏

this boys are kinky as shit but in like a really classy ass way lolll this is so hard to put into words.

well, i’ll start with junhui catboy agenda so there’s that hehehe he would most def be into pet play: that could be like ears or pretty collars and of course calling you (or him) kitten.

minghao is really versatile and doesn’t really like labels of dom and sub, he just does what he wants and what feels good to him! bc we’re talking about how intimate everything is, the kind of sex that you share with them is often never rushed but really purposeful and even planned sometimes!

i also see there being TONS of sensory items that would come into play with junhao such as flowers, fragrances, aphrodisiacs, all kinds of fabrics for sensory deprovision such as velvet, silk, hemp rope, and so much more!

BOTH OF THEM WOULD SOUND ANGELLIC i see hao as letting out really pretty soft moans that kind of trail on his tongue and jun sort of choking out gasps with a bit of a rasp to them when they cum or they feel turned on

oh god MIRROR SEX that's what i have to say about this

it doesn’t happen often, but sometimes when any one of you would be feeling needy or pent up they can certainly do hard and fast with you between the two of them. especially when this happens, oh my god hao loves it when you moan really breathily into his mouth when you’re pressed against him ooooh shit

and jun loves it when you bite into his shoulder too when he fucks you it just makes him feral

actually, i could really see the three of you recording yourselves, or even taking pictures when you have more intimate moments to look at later, just for your own enjoyment or to get off when you’re without the others

favorite position: hmmm mirror sex with you on top of minghao literally just kissing him and marking his body as jun eats you out until you’re dripping down to minghao’s cock which he jerks off too~

♡ yeonbin ♡

sfw

DON’T TOUCH ME IM SOFT

admittedly i don’t know too much about this pairing but i do know a lil so i wanted to add them!! i also did a lil research hehe

FIRST i would like to say that the three of you would without a doubt have the cutest puppy together, if not one, then two!! they would be little dogs with perfect haircuts and likely have their own instagram account which the three of you would run! they’d be instragram famous of course

LITERALLY EVERY DAY ITS A FIGHT OVER WHOS CUTEST i kid you not this is an ongoing battle you’re all just...so weak for the other ahaha

being in a relationship with them is like being in a relationship with your bestfriends!

dates with the two of them can really range all over the place bc you just like having fun together! movie dates, breakfast dates, ZOO OR AQUARIUM DATES, taking little trips to places you haven’t been before or stay at home dates like having a little indoor picnic!

soobin is really low energy, and would often opt to hang out with you at home or at a cafe while the two of you do your thing together! he lovessss when you bake or cook for him, literally whatever it is he’ll eat it!

his smile is instant serotonin and the reason why you fell in love with him! the two of them together all smiley is your lockscreen!

yeonjunie prefers going out with you clothes shopping and would DEF enable you to dye your hair a color that you’ve always been dying to do! he also loves showing you new music and blushes like heck when you tell him that you like the songs that he picks!

in their own playful ways too, they’d always call you out on your bs LOLL but they just wanna motivate you! they’re your biggest cheerleaders!

Deep down though, both of them are quite cheesy and would love to shower you with alll the stereotypical romance that you can take even if it makes all three of you cringe ahahah

nsfw

NEEEEDY and literally so mf horny on the dl like it’s comical to how soft and shy they can be in real life situations

oh my god this is a godly thought but i see both of them being both switchy as heck but not really bc they like how it feels to be in those different postions but literally....bc no matter what it is they are getting off lolll

i see both of them having sub leanings but can get real bratty if they’re feeling it.

yeonjun does have a dom side to him that just comes with his general confidence that he gets around you! when either of you beg from him he’s ready to let himself loose.

im so sorry but they literally handed pet play to me on a silver platter with cat & dog and there is no going back for me. SO you’re in for puppy, kitty and bunny play (shhhh yeonjun’s got his fox ears too)

WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HOW ALL OF YOU WOULD LIKE THIGH HIGHS

both of them love being edged to high hell by you...no matter if it hurts...they kinda like it?

at the same time, both of your boyfriends also love giving you all the attention at times too! i’m talking about one of them playing with your breasts while the other trails kisses down your body all the way down to your pussy aching for attention too

FUCK this might be just me but soobin eating you out>>>> a GODLY sight.

i have this other fantasy of yeonjun with either lip piercings or nipple piercings or even a dick piercing someone plz tell me to calm down

oh please...bubble bath with the two of them holy shit baby pink bubbles all around you while you take turns givin’ each other cute kisses ahhhh

one more thing to the pile here would be hella mutual masturbation soo much of it. the three of you get off just simply watching eachother too and dirty talking how much you love the way the others look with hands rubbing themselves away with cute whiny moans~

♡ taekook ♡

sfw

omg! this is my first time remotely talking about bts on my blog hehe this is so exciting!! i don’t really read too much bts ff so this is going off of my own perception!

i just wanna say....there’s so much to unpack here LOL but like many of the soulmates on this list, these boys are ~whipped~ for you and eachother!! its so stinkin’ cute

another thing about these expensive boyfriends is that they loooove to sing for you too! they’d sing you to sleep, when you’re sick, sad, or just had a hard day allllways hehe

the three of you have sickeningly adorable nicknames for eachother, the kind that honestly make heads turn LOL

jk would without a doubt get tattoos with you!! and wine drunk lollll he’s also a huge enabler so if there’s anything that you’re considering buying or doing he’d hype you up so bad you barely have to think twice heheh

kinda like junhao they’d also make amazing travel buddies but less for the aesthetic, but for the luxury. you’d stay at amazing hotels and eat at Michelin star restaurants wearing luxury brands that they bought for you

i feel like this goes without saying, buuuut in this r/ship, its alll about the adoring glances from afar or even just right next to you bc they love you so much!!

i also get a very protective vibe from them as well, you’re very special to them, and they never wanna see you in harms way or disrespected by anyone! this could even look like having their arm around you on the bus or on the small of your back in a crowd

together, they’re the biggest jokesters and flirty as HELL they think that it’s so funny when they flirt out in public AGRESSIVELY just to make you a lil embarrassed hehe

forehead kissessss and kisses on the back of your hand!

nsfw

luxurious in this area tooooo

they would rent out the penthouse or presidential suite to make an evening for you and pull out all the stops: expensive champagne, lingerie selected just for you, a breathtaking view of the city ahhhh

ya all know how much i love my soft and intimateeee body touching and there would be plenty of this! they take their time undressing you and eachother and would plant kisses into the nape of your neck and shoulders as you do so!

i would like to contribute to this conversation sub!jk bc this is something that ahhhhh i really like to think about as well as soft dom tae bcccc why not heheh

these boys are utterly gorgeous under soft lighting and prowling all over your body too tho ahhh

BUT! imagine teasing the hell out of jk, barely letting him feel your mouth besides fleeting kisses while tae drives his hips into you from behindddd

in fact, these boys actually don’t mind a little voyeurism with the wide windows in your suite, opting to leave them open so there's a bit of thrill in the way that they fuck you too~

tae has a bit of...dare i sayyyy a power kink, so when you call him names such as sir, daddy, master etc oh boy

jk himself is bit into sensory dep specifically with blindfolds especially when its your hands travelling all around his body making him shiver.

both of them just looove cuming all over you as well: face, ass, thighs, belly, literally anywhere, they just think that you look amazing like that!

there are a couple times here and there when the three of you also do a bit of cam work together for other people to watch--although it isn’t often, you rake it in when you do so. the three of you are a perfect fantasy!

sex also can happen in odd places with you three too since you can just start feeling it and don’t really care ;) strangest place....hmm i’d say when you joined the mile high club with them~

~🌹~

Bunch of (Ro)ses!

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

292 notes · View notes

a-stitch-in-time-and-space · 3 years ago

Note

ok i agree w/ everything you said about those ladies besides, lwaxana gives s*xual pr*dator vibes and that is why i dont like her.

I can see that reading for sure and all things are subjective. I do strongly disagree, but hey, fandom is a space for that! Super chill.

to go a little more into this though, since it's not really so much about what any of us feel, but more about how we engage with female characters (and I'll use your example of why you don't like her - not to drag you, your dislike is totally fair, she's fictional, she won't mind, but just because it's a single line that kinda puts her in a box. And not a very nice box to be in, that's for sure...)

a little tw for mild references to some of the shadier writings of star trek vis a vis sexual assault and otherwise sexist and/or strange relationship dynamics

okay so you know how Riker has like. two? episodes that're suuuper shady in terms of his treatment of women and the rest of the time it's pretty chill. and he's one of my favourite characters, but I have gotta skip those episodes, because whatever they were trying to do, they Did Not Succeed - and there's a reading of him that incorporates those elements and if you do you've gotta contend with the character being quite probably someone who's assaulted women.

or how Worf at times espouses sexist shit that makes me roll my eyes outta my head and you're either gonna say "I don't fucking like this character" (and again, totally fair, I've seen people who don't Vibe) or you've gotta find a way to make this work for you if you want to explore that character - or both of those things, you can dislike a character and want to write about them

Or some of the weird shit the writers have Geordi do (which, Geordi is my favourite character in TNG, but sometimes ya gotta breathe and go "the writers are fucking dumb, the writers are fucking dumb")

or - the spiritual successor of Geordi, Julian Bashir (my favourite character from DS9 - clearly I have a Type). You've gotta go: This is stupid writing. I can make it work with my own read of the character, but first and foremost The Writing Is Dumb!

Or hell, Q - since we're talking about Lwaxana and I assume her interactions with Picard and Odo, let's not forget to mention Q, both in TNG and on VOY with Janeway - some of the more urgh-inducing scenes between Q and Janeway are, I think, meant to be charming and funny? And I'm a massive QCard shipper here, okay, I actually vibe so hard with him as an alien who doesn't get shit about boundaries (this mostly with Picard, with Janeway I have gone: "Hm. This doesn't feel good" a fair few times).

or how the writers of DS9 had Garak be in a very uncomfortable relationship with Ziyal, who was a teenager, then not a teenager within much too short a span of episodes (and actress changes)

or Quark. Remember the episode in which Quark tries to get Kira's likeness so he can put it in a sex-fantasy roleplay that she did not consent to? or how there are two cold opens where his female employees are told they have to sleep with him to keep their jobs

or like... Neelix (okay, I am not a fan of Neelix anyway, but for people who are fans, there are times when you've gotta wonder what in the heck the writers are thinking - not the character, the writers)

what I'm trying to say with the post I wrote is that this same graciousness isn't offered to female characters - especially female characters of colour, but in the case of Lwaxana

she's older, she's an ongoing female guest star, she's very (sometimes uncomfortably) sexual towards especially Picard and for a short while Odo, before they become really good friends.

she's also in-text several times in positions in which men are trying to control her (the episode where she gets kidnapped, the episode in which the guy who's married her is a misogynist) and she uses or tries to use her "wiles" to escape these situations.

She's really more of a faded beauty who's putting a pressure onto her daughter (in a rare interesting, complex, fraught mother-daughter dynamic that I loooove) and refuses to let go of the past, because (and here we get into my read, but mildly supported by canon) it's the only way she seems to have learned how to be loved and have relevance. She's terrified of letting that go, because where does she go next, without everything that's defined her? which is why her final episode with Odo is actually so powerful to me.

Picard is never threatened by her in-text. He's not massively fond of her (at first, she grows on him... like a mold), he would prefer to avoid her, but he's not in a powerless situation here. She undoubtedly makes him uncomfortable at times in a way that - like some of the above examples have made me go "mmmmokay" but certainly not the worst example of this in the writing.

With Odo I also don't like how some of her interactions with him go in the first episode they're in together. But once they're friends and you see how easily she accepts him ("I can swim" is always going to be one of my favourite little chuckle lines) that no longer applies. He clearly likes her and enjoys her company. There's something incredibly lifelong platonic partners in their easiness with each other.

You can argue in both cases (and argue well) that there are scenes that are kinda sus. But there are lots of scenes that offer you depth of character. She's not one-note. She's got off moments.

Some of these guys (and others - I haven't watched as much TOS and Voyager so I don't want to misrepresent anyone, but I feel sure that Tom Paris has made me squint once or twice + I've not seen Enterprise yet) have whole episodes that make me shudder.

It's really - within this fandom for sure - open how we interpret characters and I'm not saying anyone needs to read Lwaxana like this or change their minds and like her.

The point of the post is not to say you have to like any of these characters. Or even to say you have to engage with them regardless of how you vibe or don't vibe with them. It's just... I have listened to several up-until-then-enjoyable deeply analytical podcasts where at some point one of the (guys... always guys... I'm guessing white) makes a sneering comment completely dismissing their value within the series.

My point is that Lwaxana (since we're on her) has value as a character within the Trek universe. She added something important. She's not everyone's cup of tea, but it's a big series, we're not all guaranteed to like everyone.

and in the original post I used "shrill" and "cringy" on purpose, because those are descriptors I've heard. And they are absolutely rooted in misogynist dismissals of female characters no matter what shape they take (Keiko, Lwaxana, Michael, and Ezri are radically different from each other and yet all easily brushed aside regardless of screentime, personality, show, age, role/job).

I'm not making points about having to engage with or like characters. I'm just saying we need to be aware of how easily we specifically look down our noses at female characters (and specifically female characters of colour - apologies, this was just because we were talking about Lwaxana, but some of the shit I've heard about especially Michael and Keiko have made me want to bang my head against a wall... or other peoples heads against walls... you know, for a nice change)

so how much sympathy or analysis of behaviour is afforded to female characters vs their male peers. What judgements are we making and how do they compare to our readings of their male counterparts?

sidenote: I hate using male and female about star trek, my brain is just like "why anyone gender? why do this? you're in space? there are aliens? y'all can't chill with the binary for two fucking seconds?"

different post

#lwaxana troi #tng #ds9 #voy #st: tng #st: ds9 #st: voy #star trek disc horse #I don't want to make statements on TOS or Disco guys - I HAVE seen them I just don't rememberrrr too much #i have entirely avoided any and all opinions by white cis dudes on adira and gray btw because I have F E A R #they're not female characters tho but like... tangentially I'm thinking hooboy about them as well #anon just wanna reiterate I'm not telling you to change your opinion or feelings about her

75 notes · View notes

forcefully-awoken · 3 years ago

Text

hello this is for @titan-fodder's coffee shop AU collab. you can find the rest of the amazing works here. divider by @firefly-graphics

i am patently against coffee shop AU's but i do like plot twists.

pairing: Nemuri Kayama (Midnight) x Reader

Summary: Life is boring when you work at a coffee shop in a small town and your life feels like it's going nowhere. Good thing Nemuri walks through the door and sets her eyes on you.

warnings: pining, angst, ghost shit, author has never worked in a coffee shop, period typical mentions of homophobia

WC: 4.2k

You never thought your life would turn out this way.

Stuck in a dead end job at a local coffee shop, always working the opening shift, paying off loans for a degree you barely had use for now. You weren’t so old now, barely twenty three, but starting college seemed so far away. Everything felt so much easier back then, you were so young and idealistic and you were going to change the fucking world. Now you have to listen intently while the rudest woman in town berates you because her coffee isn’t heated to the exact degree she had specified.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am,” You reply smoothly, voice honey sweet and fake as hell, “I’ll get that remade for you right away.” You had no such intentions, but this bitch didn’t need to know that. Instead you took it behind the counter, just out of sight while you busied yourself making another drink. Then you handed the original back to her, and watched as the woman took a sip, sighing happily.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” She snips, walking away. You roll your eyes and take up the register again. Standing in front of you is the single most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. You’re certain she’s never been in before, at least not while you’ve been working. She’s eyeing the menu board over your head, while you’re able to drink in your fill of her. Long black hair, falling in soft layers down her shoulders, pale, unblemished skin, full lips, and bright blue eyes. She’s dressed in the vintage style you’ve seen come back into fashion, red glasses perched on her face.

“W-what can I get for you?” You curse how you stutter out the question- you haven’t stuttered in front of a woman since the sixth grade and you realized you liked girls.

“I think just a black coffee, small.” Oh for fucks sake, even her voice is pretty. You mutely nod, picking up a cup to write down the order.

“And a name?” The words are routine as they slip from your mouth.

“Nemuri Kayama,” She replies, giving you a smile as bright as the sun. All you can do is nod back to her, taking her money and making change in silence. Your coworkers snicker quietly when you even go so far as to hand deliver her drink.

“What time do you get off work?” She asks when you manage to make it over to the table and set the drink down without spilling it on yourself. “I’d love to get to know you.” You check the time on your watch.

“Another two hours,” You reply, sadness in your voice because there’s no way she’ll wait.

“Wonderful!” Are you dreaming? You must be dreaming. “I’ll see you then!” Once again you can only nod in reply, silently wondering what the fuck to yourself as you get back to work. You try to look at Nemuri as much as you can, but she seems to just be lost in thought as she sits at the tiny two person table. She gazes out the window with a dreamy smile on her face, every so often bringing the cup to her mouth- though you notice it doesn’t look like she’s drinking, only smelling it.

Two hours has never seemed so long as your shift drags by. Customers come in, you take orders, your heart tries to beat out of your chest. Soon enough you’re hanging up your apron on its little hook, and ignoring the stares of your coworkers as you take a place across from Nemuri. Her cup still looks full, and you almost want to ask if there was something wrong with it before shutting that train of thought down- you’re not working right now.

“Hello,” You breathe out, trying not to sound so excited, failing miserably. “You waited.”

“Of course,” Nermuri practically purrs at you, leaning forward on the table, just slightly closer to you. “I wanted to talk to you.”

That’s all it takes- you think you’re in love now. The talk starts small, just figuring each other out, you tell Nemuri about your degree and she tells you she never went to college, that she worked as a secretary at a bank you hadn’t heard of. You figured it had to be in the town over, but the conversation moved on before you could ask. You don’t think you’ve had such a delightful conversation in ages, so far from your friends and not close to your coworkers.

Nemuri makes you realize how lonely you’ve been, but soothes the ache before it can even begin. Neither of you offer up your last names, but that seems so inconsequential. You want to know what makes Nemuri smile, what drives her out of bed in the morning (“Not a lot,” She says, smiling down at her now cold coffee, “Just getting by like everyone else.”). For all you can find it in you to care the rest of the world is standing still now. You think you could swim in her eyes, drown in the soft peals of her laughter.

It’s not until the pointed coughs of your coworkers that you realize the shop is only a few minutes away from close. She hesitates when you ask for her number, but that doesn’t slow you down. You offer to walk her to her car, but she says she doesn’t have one- doesn’t even have her license in fact. You offer her a ride home, eager to spend more time with the mysterious woman. She nods just the once, and you go to gather your things, taking her coffee to the back to pour it out in the sink. You’ll really have to figure out what kind of drink she likes.

Nemuri is standing by the table, waiting for you once again. She looks ethereal in the low light, and you tell her as much.

“You look like an angel,” You declare confidently, but she somehow becomes even more pale. There’s a split second where you think you’ve done something wrong enough that she’ll faint right there on the spot but she perks up after a moment.

“That’s the first time I’ve been compared to one,” She teases you, and you lead the two of you out the door. When you turn to grab your keys from you bag you take your eyes off of her for a split second, it’s barely anything, but there’s a gentle breeze and when you turn back Nemuri is gone- leaving you with disappointment and more questions than answers.

Namely, what the fuck.

You had the next two days off, and you were left to wonder- had you done something wrong? The signs felt like they were so clearly there but maybe you had misread them? Maybe Nemuri was just flirty like that, and ran at the first sign of queerness? For the first time in your memory you wish you would get called in so you could ask her about it. But your days off passed quietly, with you just puttering around your house, trying to get everything done that needed to be.

Soon enough you’re there, bright and early, and nervous beyond belief. It feels like it takes all day for Nemuri to show back up, but she arrives- this time right before your shift is over.

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing out of her mouth, and damn, it’s hard to stay even a little annoyed when she looks so cute staring at you like that. You find yourself melting, smiling and taking her order- which is your favorite drink, you recommend it to her. When you join her after your shift again she gestures to it. “It’s yours.” Your answering smile is all she needs.

“Tell me about your favorite childhood memory?” Nemuri asks, and you find yourself unable to deny her.

“My mom took us to this mermaid cove place, they have a show with pirates, and mermaids, and singing, and I just remember how happy she was watching it all,” Your eyes grow a little misty thinking about the past, about your mother, “I remember telling her that I was going to be a mermaid one day, just to make her smile like that all the time. I was a very ambitious seven year old.”

“You sound like a good daughter,” Nemuri replies, smiling sweetly at you. “I’m sure your mother is still very happy for you now.”

“She passed,” You manage to choke out, trying hard to sound like you’re okay, “A few years go, but anyways, what about you? Your favorite memory?”

“I’m so sorry,” Nemuri starts, but sees something in your face so when she talks again it’s not about you, “We were down on our luck when I was a child, like everyone was. I was maybe nine or ten at the time- everything we ate was so bland, but it was all we could afford. One day papa came home with an orange- a real orange! We had to split it between everyone but nothing tasted sweeter.” Nemuri isn’t looking at you now- she’s lost in her own thoughts as surely as you’re lost in yours.

“We should talk about happier things,” You say, and Nemuri is nice enough to ignore the sniffle in your voice. “The future, maybe. Where do you see yourself in five years?” She blanches at that, actually, and you feel bad, taking a sip of your drink to focus your thoughts. “You’re right, that was bad. This isn’t a job interview.”

“I just haven’t given it much thought,” Her reply is a little stiff, formal.

“Ah, a live in the moment type of gal?”

“You could say that,” There’s a secret hiding in Nemuri’s smile, one you want to spend as long as she’ll let you trying to figure it out. “What about you? Big future plans?”

“I want to fall in love,” You blurt out, cringing back a little, “That sounds so cheesy. I just want to have a little place, just a little piece of happiness.”

“I don’t think that sounds cheesy at all,” Nemuri assures you, “I think it sounds amazing.” The two of you sit there for another moment, just enjoying each other before the alarm on your phone goes off- half an hour until your therapy appointment. You frown at the reminder, cursing it internally for disrupting your time now. You stand, gathering your things as does Nemuri.

“I have to go, but maybe I could take you out?” There it is again- the blanching, the frown that plays on her lips. “Or is that too fast?”

“We could meet back here?” She slowly suggests, “I live in one of the apartments above?” You’re not sure why she sounds so shy about it but you readily agree anyways- you don’t cherish the idea of coming back here but maybe you’ll get lucky if she’s already inviting you over.

“It’s a date,” You declare, feeling more confident when Nemuri nods in agreement. You bid your farewells and make it home just in time to pick up your therapist’s call- the wonders of telehealth. It’s hard to focus on what your therapist is saying, and she seems to pick up on that.

“I met someone,” You say, suddenly shy. Nemuri is so new, you don’t feel quite comfortable gushing about her yet. “It’s new. We have a date tonight.” There’s not much else to say after that, anyways. After that you’re able to focus just a little bit more, and soon the hour is over, with you promising to tell your therapist all about your date.

There’s still a few hours so you take your time getting ready, trying to find that balance between casual and dressed up. You’ve never felt so nervous for a date before in your life, but then it’s suddenly, somehow, time to leave again.

Nemuri is waiting in front of the shop for you, looking nervous but she lights up when she sees you. You can see a soft glow behind her- the shop is transformed. The door is unlocked, and she mentions something about being friends with the owner again when you lead the pair of you inside.

The main lights are off but there’s fairy lights all over, and the tables pushed out of the way, save for one right in the middle. There’s some take out on it, a Thai place you know you had mentioned earlier today.

“This is all so much,” You gush to Nemuri as you take your seat across from her. She looks perfect, and you tell her as much, just to watch the apples of her cheeks turn a beautiful shade of pink. It’s endearing, really, the way she waits for you to serve yourself, how she just watches you, and talks to you. Conversation flows as easily as the wine you brought, though you’re the only one drinking it.

“I thought I had misread the signs,” You confess. “I thought maybe once again I had a crush on a straight girl.”

“I had the same fears,” Nemuri returns, shaking her head a little, a soft strand of black hair falling around her cheek to frame it perfectly. “I know I can be a little unusual and I thought you were simply being kind.”

“Oh, no, I totally wanna fuck you,” You try to keep your voice a little light, teasing, but it comes out damn near a purr and Nemuri’s eyes widen in response. Now, your tipsy mind thinks, now you’ve definitely over stepped and you’ll be reported, and get fired or sued, and your therapist will be so disappointed and-

“It’s good to know we’re on the same page there.” Her words bring you up short, stopping your anxiety spiral before it can even really begin. Nemuri shifts, her eyes going distant when she looks away from you. “Though there is a slight complication here.”

That sends another pang of worry through you- you’re pretty certain Nemuri is perfect, what could complicate sleeping together? A million different scenarios speed through your head all at once, but for the life of you, you’d never be able to predict the next words that come out of her mouth.

“You see, I’m a ghost.” You’d laugh, but her face is kind and serious and all sorts of heart breaking.

“I’m sorry?” Your manners prevail, and you bite back what you want to say, “You think you’re a ghost?”

“I am, I know I am,” Her words hold a note of finality, so much so that you can’t help the next words out of your own- “Alright, then prove it.”

She looks back at you now, catching your eye with a mischievous grin. She stands, but the chair doesn’t move. Nemuri walks, actually walks, through the table, standing right in your food to bend over and brush her lips against yours. It’s like there’s nothing there, only the hint of coldness, something that sends a harsh shiver down your spine.

“Do you believe me now?” She asks when she pulls away.

“I do,” You answer simply, before everything goes dark and you feel yourself slide out of your chair onto the floor, as Nemuri calls your name.

Your eyes flutter open and Nemuri’s face is so close to yours that if she had breath you would be sharing it. You scramble away from her, kicking the chair as you move, and her face falls.

“You- you’re a gh—” You choke on the word as you sputter, unable to get your mind around it. Ghosts aren’t real, your mind distantly supplies, the wine is drugged, or you’re having a stroke, or you fell asleep on the couch but this isn’t- it can’t be real. Nemuri is still frowning at you, kindness in her eyes like she understands. God, how do you even begin to tell your therapist about this? That the girl you have- had- have a crush on is a ghost?

“I have to go,” The words leave your mouth, body twisting as you grab your bag off the floor and run out the door. You think you hear your name being called but you don’t look back, you don’t stop shaking until you’re home, and the door is locked behind you. Your mind doesn’t stop racing, anxiety making your heartbeat loud in your chest.

There’s a pang of regret but all you can think is why, how, what the fuck? Nemuri is a ghost, she walked through a table and kissed you and you ran away. You had work in the morning but it was so hard to think about going back. Would the shop even look the same now to you now? God, had she died there? Is this why she lingered around it? Were her bones buried under your feet as you made rude middle aged women their overpriced lattes?

That thought is enough to have you running to the bathroom, emptying your stomach into the toilet. You slide to the floor again, pressing your forehead against the cool tile to try and stop your reeling brain. You have no idea how to process this now, electing to simply crawl into bed, deciding to call in sick in the morning.

And you do- you call in sick for two days. You curl up in your blankets, and ignore the world outside. You think about the sad look on Nemuri’s face, and it sends another pang through you every time. It’s hard to think of disappointing her again but where do you go from here?

After two days you can’t justify calling in anymore. Your bills need paid, no matter how many ghosts you think you might want to have sex with. You don’t see her your entire shift either, which makes you a little sad, and that surprises you. You hesitate as long as you can, hoping to see her before you head home, but she never shows.

And for the next week you don’t see Nemuri. You brush it off when your therapist asks after her, and try to write it off as maybe a slight psychological break. But then you see her, sitting in a corner, and you notice how the sunlight goes through her now, like she’s fading, like she’s only ever been halfway there.

You don’t acknowledge her until the end of your shift when you whisper, “Tonight. The same time.” There’s no reply but when you glance back she’s gone.

Your hands shake something terrible when you drive back to work after hours. When you arrive this time there’s no grand set up (and you really should ask Nemuri how she did that!) there’s just the table by the window, the same one you first spoke to her at. You don’t even see Nemuri as you walk in, the lights on just enough for you to see.

“Hello?” Your voice echoes around the open space and then all of a sudden she’s right next to you. Materializing out of thin air like, well, like a ghost.

“You’re here,” The word sticks in her mouth, and you feel the pressure of it on you, compelling you to take a seat. You slump in your seat, eyes widening when Nemuri is just there across from you- only she didn’t walk there. She’s just there. Everywhere. The thought makes you dizzy.

“I figured,” You voice is too quiet, you clear your throat, straightening up in your seat, “I figured talking can’t hurt, right?” Nemuri nods, a little too eager. “I don’t have to solve your murder or anything right?”

“Heavens no!” Nemuri sounds scandalized at the thought which brings you little relief. “I died of old age, quietly, in the apartment above here about twenty years ago.”

“But,” Your mind is still reeling from how old she must be, what year her date of birth is, “Why are you here then?” And from the look on her face she knows you don’t just mean why is she in the coffee shop. She doesn’t look at you when she starts her story.

“My father wasn’t a nice man,” She says, a hard line to her words. “He loved me, please don’t misunderstand that, he loved me in the way fathers love their first daughters, which is to say pining a legacy on my shoulders before I know how to walk. He looked at me and saw future generations, saw grandchildren that might share the color of his eyes, the shape of his mouth.

Unfortunately for him the first time I kissed a boy I knew- I couldn’t love him or any man. I couldn’t love anybody the way I loved the girl next door, my roommate in my first apartment, the lovely barista at the coffee shop. I was… wrong in his eyes. I wasn’t the child he had been promised and that broke something inside of him. He asked me to deny myself, if I wouldn’t have a husband then at least, I should have nobody at all.

And I couldn’t deny him that. I died here. I died alone, with regrets, and one big thing tethering me to this ground we sit on. I wanted a love. I want one kiss, with someone who looked at me and saw me and understood me and loved me so much it didn’t matter that I was wrong in my father’s eyes- because I would always be right in theirs.”

You’re crying by the time Nemuri stops talking. Big, fat, salty tears make their way down your face. Your nose is running too, and with shaky hands you move to wipe your face off with a napkin. You can’t imagine Nemuri’s life the way she described it. Your mother had hugged you tightly when you came out, had set you up with the daughters of friends, had held your hand in hers on her deathbed and told you to love as much as possible.

But Nemuri, sweet and kind and loving, had been denied that because it was the wrong time? The wrong place? The wrong family? It broke your heart to think of decades alone, closing her eyes that final time knowing there was nobody waiting on the other side.

“I’m sorry,” You gasp out, trying to stop yourself from crying more, “I’m so sorry I ran off, I didn’t even give you a chance!”

“You’re giving me a chance now,” Your heart breaks a little more at how kind she still sounds, “And you’re not running. I don’t see fear in your eyes. I see acceptance, and understanding.”

“And love,” You say with some finality. It’s hard not to love someone like Nemuri, and how could you not love her now? She’s laid her soul in front of you, and all you want to do is hold her hand. You reach out, placing yours palm up on the table. She’s hesitant, but then her hand rests in yours and you can feel her- warm and vibrant and alive. She’s solid when you look back up at her. Holding her hand in yours, you move around the table, bringing your face level to hers.

“I love you, Nemuri,” You tell her, watching as tears gather in the corner of her eyes, “And I won’t stop until my dying day.”

When your lips meet hers this time you feel them, the first and best kiss she’ll ever give you, and there’s a soft exhale from her that your greedily swallow down. When your eyes open again she’s gone, but you know that’s okay.

Somewhere, she’s happier.

Your life moves on after that.

It’s weird- you think going back to the coffee shop might feel awkward but it doesn’t. You swear you can hear her laughter in the ringing of the bells over the door, feel her touch as it stops you from burning yourself on something hot. She’s everywhere and nowhere- just the simple, calming presence of an old lover.

You meet a girl, two, three, before the fourth one finally sticks. It doesn’t feel like betrayal, not when your first kiss with her happens because an invisible force pushes you forward and into her arms. Sue, your wife, is lovely and understanding, even when you drag her to a cemetery, and introduce her to a grave holding a person you couldn’t know, given that the gravestone held a death date of when you were five.

She doesn’t question it when she finds you talking aloud sometimes, to thin air, to a person who’s name she’s only even seen on that gravestone. Sue holds you tight on your worst nights and lifts you higher on your best. Every kiss with her is full of life, of love, of a happiness you find yourself thinking you’re sharing with one other person. You give everything you have to Sue, save one little corner of your heart.

You move away, you move on from that small town and everything that held you down there. Your life flourishes out, it’s more than you ever could have dreamed of, your happiness so much that you’re not sure how your heart handles it. Every little victory feels dedicated to her, to the one ghost you’ve never been able to exorcise but that’s okay, more than, because you know Nemuri loves you still, wants you to be happier just for her.

And you know it too, when you close your own eyes for that one final time, and her voice calls to you from somewhere, far off in the distance.

#nemuri x reader #nemuri kayama x reader #midnight x reader #homophobia tw #♟.collabs #♟.bnha #♟.nemuri #if nobody cries i’ll delete bye

61 notes · View notes

karajaynetoday · 4 years ago

Text

moments | calum hood

i haven't written in months, and i don't even know if this is worth posting, but here's a calum blurb for you. hope you're all staying safe and well, sending love wherever you are in the world.

warnings: references to alcohol, creepy guys in bars, death of a family member - all mentioned in passing, non-graphic.

More writing here | send thoughts/feedback/suggestions here | if you’d like to be on my taglist go here

There was never a single, defining moment in which you realised that Calum had been the one, all along. It was more a series of smaller moments that built up your bond over time and kept your lives intertwined with each other, in sometimes unexpected ways.

The first was when he made you a cup of tea, just the way you liked it, on his first attempt. Lots of milk, teabag left in to brew, and in a mug with a wide handle so you could cradle it easily in your hands without burning yourself. You’d been the first to awaken on a group trip away to the coast, and when Calum found you snuggled up under a blanket in the bay window with your book, all he did was smile and head to the kitchen to put the kettle on. No conversation, no questions, just a cup of tea, exactly the way you liked it - even though you were certain you’d never even told Calum about your tea-making preferences.

The next was when you were randomly paired together for game night. Well, at least it was supposed to be random, but as the only single members of your friend group, you had an inkling that it wasn’t entirely a coincidence. The game of choice was Articulate, and you and Calum scored every possible point in each of your rounds, heading straight to victory. You’d never felt so in tune with a games partner before, and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat in your chest when Calum pulled you in for a celebratory hug and a victory kiss on the cheek.

Another occurrence was a night out on the town with your work friends, celebrating a colleague’s promotion. They were a live music fan, so you’d headed for a local rock bar, where the drinks were cheap and the crowd was a little bit rowdy, to say the least. You’d Calum and the boys in the corner when you arrived, baseball cap on in an attempt to be a little incognito, so you’d given them a small wave and a smile instead of making a scene and heading over to greet them properly. The bartenders seemed a little understaffed, so you’d been standing and waiting to place your order for a little while when a random guy standing next to you tried to strike up conversation. You were polite at first, but then his questions quickly more invasive, and you felt the unease building in your stomach. You’d politely declined his offer for a drink for the third time when you sense him eyeing you up and down, which made you instinctively take a step backwards, where you crashed into someone. Turning to apologise, you were met with Calum’s soft brown eyes that were swimming with concern, and you mouthed thank you before he pulled you into a hug. “Sorry babe, I got stuck chatting to Luke. Have you ordered yet?” The term of endearment slipped easily from his lips, and you felt you heart leap once more as Calum threw his arm over your shoulder as you turned back to face the bar. Glancing beside you, you could see that the creep had left, and you finally exhaled in relief. Calum’s arm didn’t budge from your shoulder though, and he kept it there until you bid your goodbyes and returned to your respective groups of friends.

The fourth moment was when your group of friends went back to the beach house for another weekend away, and Calum held your hand as you both leapt off a cliff into the ocean below. When you surfaced, his hand found yours once again, and the gentle waves of the ocean helped you feel more at peace than you had in months. You were treading water below the cliffs when Calum kissed you for the first time. Out of sight of all of your friends, who were either swimming back to shore or lining up waiting to jump. Just a moment for you two, alone, but intertwined.

Then there was the time that you cried in his arms, because you couldn’t comprehend that your grandmother was gone. Sure, you understood that her time had come, but that didn’t make the pain any easier, or the grief any softer. Instead it was all encompassing, and it felt like your heart was being wrenched out of your chest. Calum stayed with you for hours, bodies intertwined on the sofa, whispering sweet comforts into your ear and listening patiently as you talked about your favourite memories of one of your favourite people to ever exist. He made you a lot of cups of tea during those days; every single one of them was just the way you liked it.

The true love, though, was found in the everyday moments. Waking up first and running your fingers through Calum’s hair as he slept soundly beside you. Doing the grocery shopping together, and keeping your promise of trying at least one new recipe every week. Taking Duke for neighbourhood walks, and getting over-excited at the other dogs you met along the way. Planning trips away, video calling with family members, writing holiday cards, and listening to vinyl records in the living room, wearing your pyjamas and drinking wine. Slow dancing in the kitchen as you made brunch together on Sundays, creeping into the home studio for a late night visit to help relieve some of Calum’s stress, or the torture of a shared personal training session. Whatever it was, it was yet another moment where you had the warmth and togetherness of your love for each other surrounding you; and that was exactly the way you liked it to be, forever.

Taglist: @suchalonelysunflower @blackbutterfliescal @redrattlers @loveroflrh @spicylftv @notinthesameguey @metalandboybands @cheekysos @ashton-trash @another-lonely-heart @queensaliencherrypie @becihadshawn @allthestarsandthemoon @oyesmendes @andrianawinchester @333-xx @findingliam-o @hoodhoran @myloverboyash

#my writing #calum hood blurb #calum hood imagine #i'm in too deep in my own head and this is the result #the yearning is real lmao #need to find me a guy to make me perfect cups of tea unprompted tbh #calum hood one shot

196 notes · View notes

a-small-batch-of-dragons · 4 years ago

Text

Warm

Prompts: Um hi, I love your writing. Would you by any chance want to write a hurt/comfort piece where Janus returns from a meeting with the Light Sides and has a breakdown bc the Light Sides still don’t completely accept him after everything (not in an unsymp way, more in a suspicious-but-not-wanting-or-realizing-that-they-hurt-him-way) and Remus comforts him? Thank you lots (should you choose to write it :D) - anon

If your still up for prompts can you do remus helping to comfort janus after a busy day like he does stuff only dark sides would know that will help janus relax - whitehorsewolf

Thank you for the asks, babes!

Read on Ao3

Warnings: sympathetic dark bois

Pairings: can be dukeceit if you want, doesn’t have to be

Word Count: 1998

They’re not mean. They’re just cold.

Patton doesn’t insist that he’s evil and that they should never listen to him, that bar none, lying is wrong, and Thomas is a bad person for even thinking about it. Logan doesn’t throw barb after barb at him, pretending he doesn’t understand sarcasm and using it as an excuse to put down his intelligence. Virgil doesn’t make his life hell every time he dares open his mouth. Roman doesn’t loudly cut him off or glare at him or make fun of everything he says.

Patton is quiet, asking politely if Janus wouldn’t mind explaining a little more. Logan is clipped, smooth, dispassionate. Virgil never makes eye contact with him but backs him up, every single time. Roman apologizes when he misunderstands and offers solutions for Janus to consider.

They are considerate, they are careful, and Janus hates it.

They’re walking on eggshells now, not just with him, but with each other. They speak so carefully that every single word becomes a lie, a lie of omission. Janus’s mouth almost starts to bleed with how bitter it tastes.

They try. They do their best. And he does have to give them credit because they are trying. They’re trying so hard that it’s killing them. It’s killing him.

So much is going unsaid so they don’t accidentally hurt anyone else that they’re tearing themselves asunder.

Is this…what he wanted?

He certainly didn’t want it to be this cold.

Janus reaches his door with a groan, opening it and slipping inside. His fingers slide uselessly off the clasps at the front, unable to wrap around anything for long enough to undo the clasp, move the material, even work through the fabric of his gloves. The material saps the warmth from him the longer he can’t get it off, creating a strange warmth paradox where it’s the only thing that kept him standing in that frigid, frigid living room but now it’s wicking away every last speck of his own heat.

He hisses, his mouth still bone dry from the lies. He manages to get himself over to the heat lamp and bat clumsily at the base, searching desperately for the button to press and make all this cold, cold, cold go away. He misses.

He grits his teeth and tries again.

He summons up every last bit of willpower he has and tries again.

Finally, he hits the button and almost faints with relief. The warmth is there, it’s right there, he just has to…just has to get to it…it’s so close…it’s right there…

Snakes…snakes don’t do well in the…in the cold…it’s cold…it’s so cold…

It’s…so…cold…

…so…

…cold.

Janus falls to the floor, his hand outstretched for the warmth of the heat lamp.

Something bangs on his door.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Janny!”

Janus can’t summon up anything to move.

“Janny, open up, or I’m coming in.”

He…can’t…move…too…cold…

“Janny? Janny, you’re not supposed to be the one that’s scary down here.”

…cold…

The hinges almost fly off his door as Remus kicks it in. If he weren’t as he currently is, he’d be pissed. As of right now, he’s just…there…lying on the ground…out of the warmth.

“Jeez, Janny, you’d think that you…were…Jan?”

Remus’s voice turns from manic glee to concern in less than an instant. Before Janus can blink—snakes don’t have eyelids—Remus is there, next to him, crouched on the floor.

“What’re you doing over here, Jan,” Remus mutters, “and why are you colder than a polar bear’s butthole?”

“Re…mus…”

“Yeah, Jan, it’s me, let’s…alright, let’s get you into the heat, yeah?” Remus grunts and gets his arms under Janus.

Janus almost groans with how warm Remus feels, even through the thick cloak. Once the heat’s gone it’s gone, replaced quickly by the blazing light of the lamp. Unconsciously, Janus lets his head flop to the side, the scales starting to gleam in the amber glow.

“Alright, that’s better, now let’s just—alright, here we go—why am I the one uncomfortable right now, is this what it’s like for all of you? It’s awful…”

If Janus had speech right now, he’d be asking Remus what he was talking about. Instead, all he can do is hiss clumsily as Remus starts to peel the layers off of him. Why is Remus doing this? Is something wrong with him?

Oh, right, he’s cold.

A high-pitched whine splits the air. He doesn’t like it. He would rather it stopped, thank you very much. It hurts. Did they leave some electronics on or something? Can this stop now?

Now Remus is making a shushing noise, what—

—oh. Is it…

“Shh, shh, Jan-Jan, it’s okay, hey, uh-uh, Snakey, you look at me now, yeah?”

Warm. Warm hand on his face. He tries to blink—does he have eyelids now?—and Remus’s face swims into view.

He’s worried. Remus never looks worried. It softens as soon as Janus can focus on him.

“Hey, Snakey,” Remus murmurs, “you just stay here, yeah? Be a little snake puddle?”

The whine keeps going. If anything it gets higher.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Remus hushes, “if you do too much of that you’ll spread the cold back around you, you gotta be quiet for a little, yeah? I’m gonna get the rest of these off you, but you don’t have to worry.”

…he’s the one making that noise. Well, that’s embarrassing. He’s sure if he could he’d be blushing right now. But cold-blooded and all that…

“There you go, Snakey,” comes Remus’s soft voice as those warm hands go back to work, “just stay right here and bask in your heat lamp. I’m gonna help.”

Janus lets his eyes close as more things start to jostle him lightly. He feels the thick layers being pulled away, exposing more and more scales to the bright light. It’s warm. It’s warm. He sags to the ground and his hands begin to twitch.

A chuckle comes from somewhere above him.

“Jan-Jan,” Remus murmurs, much closer, “I’m gonna get your soft stuff to put on and your scale brush, yeah?”

Janus just hums.

“When you got speech back you’re gonna tell me what happened,” comes the soft mutter before Remus is gone, leaving Janus there in the warmth.

Is he…mad? No, not really. The others haven’t done anything wrong, per se, they’re trying their best and it’s…it’s not easy. None of this is easy. As a matter of fact, they’re doing quite well, all things considered. He’s not exactly blameless here, is he?

Is he sad? That they don’t like him? Yes, a little, but that’s…that’s also not really what’s going on.

He’s just tired.

And very, very cold.

“Hey,” Remus murmurs, having crouched back down, “hey, Snakey, you here with me?”

“Mm…”

“Good. Here,” he says, raising a metal straw to Janus’s mouth, “you gotta drink something. You’re not looking so good.”

Janus opens his mouth and immediately winces when he feels something creak. Remus curses softly and summons something else.

“Alright, Snakey, I’m gonna sit you up a little. Hey, hey,” he soothes when Janus whines again in protest, “you’re not going anywhere, but you gotta rinse your mouth out. Trust me.”

Janus lets Remus—he doesn’t have much of a say in this, he’s still far too cold, but he trusts Remus—sit him up and lean him against something, tilted so his mouth is over a bowl.

“Here,” Remus says, holding up another cup, “it’s just warm water. Try and rinse your mouth out a bit, huh?”

Janus does, obediently taking a small mouthful and spitting into the bowl. Well, he more just…opens his mouth and lets it fall. There’s blood. And it’s going everywhere because he can’t aim like this.

“Hey, uh-uh,” Remus murmurs when he mumbles an apology, “you do know who you’re talking to, right Snakey?”

“’S messy.”

“If you think these little things are messy then I haven’t been working in the common area enough. Shh, shh,” Remus chuckles when Janus immediately protests, “I’m kidding. Mostly.”

Janus just keeps washing his mouth until it runs clear and it’s not as bitter anymore. Remus sets the bowl aside and raises the first straw to his mouth again.

“It’s just warm water and honey, it’s not gonna do anything to you. I promise.”

“…sure?”

“I’m sure, Snakey,” Remus hums, holding Janus firmly with his warm, warm arms, “I wouldn’t pull anything when you’re like this.”

He wouldn’t, Janus knows, he’s just…very tired.

“There you go…” Remus gentles him back to the ground when he’s had his fill, picking up the dry brush and rubbing it carefully over one of his shoulders. “When was the last time you brushed your scales, Snakey?”

“…mm.”

“Oh, Jan-Jan…” Remus shakes his head and strokes the brush down his arm, patiently working across the scales. “There…that’s better.”

The brush’s stiff bristles slide neatly between the scales and clean out even the most stubborn of detritus. Remus works patiently around the rest of his non-scaled skin. The bristles are too rough when they’re not on the scales. It’s quiet, just the soft buzz of the lamp and the scrape, scrape, scrape of the brush. It’s warm.

“Snakey,” Remus murmurs after a while, “do you think you can roll over for me?”

“…must I?”

“You can talk again,” he chuckles, along with a gentle poke to his belly, “that’s good. And unless you don’t want me to get the other side, you gotta roll over.”

“…help.”

“I gotcha.” Remus gently works his hands under Janus’s side and lifts, carefully letting him rest on his stomach. “There…you can breathe okay, yeah?”

“Mm.”

“Good.” The brush returns, working slowly over and over the scales. “You wanna tell me what happened?”

“Nothing.”

Another gentle poke to his side. “Don’t lie to me, Snakey,” Remus chides, “you don’t let yourself get like this just because.”

“The others are just…just…mm.”

“I know, but still.”

Janus sighs. He tells Remus how the others were cold. Not unkind, just cold. Remus hums, switching the brush to his other hand.

“It’s gonna take them time, Jan-Jan.”

“I’m not angry.”

“But it’s still nice to hear, yeah?”

“…mm.”

Remus finishes with the brush and carefully sets it aside, rolling Janus back so he can look at his face. The warmth is starting to seep into his bones, sinking him further and further into the floor. Remus chuckles.

“You gonna fall asleep there, Snakey?”

“’S warm.”

“I know, that’s the point. You can sleep, that’s okay. Want me to stay?”

Janus reaches out blindly for Remus’s sleeve. Remus lets him pull him down into the shady spot outside the heat lamp, pulling Janus a little closer. He’s not as warm as the heat lamp.

“If you wanna go ahead and fall asleep there, you do that. I’m not gonna go anywhere.”

It’s quiet. It’s warm.

“You’re doing great, Jan,” Remus whispers, “this shit is fucking hard on everybody. It’s gonna be okay.”

A warm hand settles on his belly, rubbing gentle circles.

“You rest now,” comes the murmur, growing longer and lower as it slowly becomes the only thing Janus can hear, “rest, Snakey…you’re warm now.”

Warm…

“You’re gonna be okay.”

…warm…

“Everything’s gonna be okay.”

General Taglist: @frxgprince @potereregina @reddstardust @gattonero17 @iamhereforthegayshit @thefingergunsgirl @awkwardandanxiousfander @creative-lampd-liberties @djpurple3 @winterswrandomness @sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes @iminyourfandom @bullet-tothefeels @full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind @demoniccheese83 @pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious @firefinch-ember @fandomssaremysoul @im-an-anxious-wreck @crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch @enby-ralsei @unicornssunflowersandstuff @wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams @averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @private-snippers @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @aularei @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws @cecil-but-gayer @i-am-overly-complicated @annytheseal @alias290 @tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance @whyiask @theaceofcrows @emilythezeldafan @frida0043 @ieatspinalcords

If you want to be added/taken off the taglist let me know! Also some URLs aren’t automatically linking which leads me to believe I may have them wrong! If this happens also let me know!

#dragonbabbles #fic #sanders sides #deceit sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic deceit #sympathetic remus

184 notes · View notes