#I probably shouldn’t be making more fics but I can’t help myself alright?

[aroacepotatoo]

I came up with a cute little ranchers au recently and I just have to share it! (I’ll probably turn it into a fic or maybe even a comic, but I’m still recovering from writers block so that’ll happen later on)

Tango lives in a small town called hermitcraft. Admitely though, he’s quite isolated and doesn’t have many friends, mainly because he’s a blaze and some people fear him for it. The other reason is because he often fears burning people accidentally from not being able to keep his temper in check. One day, he goes into the forest to find something (haven’t really decided on what) and stumbles into a flower field inhabited by an avian named Jimmy. He is also quite lonely, sure he has his brothers but they don’t visit often, he basically only has his cat Norman to keep him company most of the time. He seems excited to meet Tango and slowly afterwards, the two become closer and closer as he continues to visit his new found friend :)

so that’s the basic concept! You can interpret this idea any way you want, I don’t really care, but I personally intend it to be a queer platonic story (look I love romance but platonic shipping has my heart forever <3)

like I said I’ll likely make this into a fic, but until I fully recover from writers block, I’ll probably just post a bunch of cute art for this au on tumblr!

Let me know what you think, I’d love to hear y’all’s thoughts!! Have a lovely day ^_^

[cyberrat]

79th Batch Of Fics: 14th Fill

Shane/Pigs – cont B77F13 – Part ½ – it's like... EXACTLY what the pairing says, so don't read if you don't like :') – Female Farmer has a problem with her pigs and Mayor Lewis comes to give her a hand... (he might be the one who told Marnie only to sell her male pigs).

---

“Oh, Mayor Lewis! That’s a… surprise? And Shane too? What… I mean… uh… why?” Farmer wipes her hands on her overalls, trying to get them marginally clean before sticking one out for the Mayor to shake.

“I just saw the little outcry for help you posted on the bulletin board concerning your pigs and I thought I should come here personally to assess the situation. I might not be a farmer myself, but you know I and your dear late grandfather have been friends and I’ve picked up on some helpful tips over the years, you know?” he replies genially, wiping his hand with a handkerchief once they’re done shaking.

“That’s uh… yeah, that’s actually helpful. But why is Shane here…?”

Mayor Lewis gently starts steering the Farmer toward the pig pens where they can already hear a commotion. “Don’t worry about that, my dear. He’s just going to be my ah… assistant for today.”

“I see…” she throws Shane one last look but he’s just looking as miserable as ever, stomping after them with his gaze firmly rooted to the ground to probably make sure he’s not stepping into anything.

“You know, I’ve been like really educating myself on this stuff. I know it’s just my first year and all but I put all my money into these pigs and my pens are huge, so there shouldn’t be any problems? But for some reason they just keep fighting instead of searching for truffles. And if they don’t start soon, I think I’m gonna go bankrupt. Or something.”

They stop at the fence, watching the pigs, all three hunkering in different corners for now but looking decidedly unhappy and ready to fight at the drop of a hat.

The three of them stand there, watching them for a while before Lewis clicks his tongue and nods.

“Ah I see. I can tell you exactly where the problem lies.”

The Farmer’s head snaps around, mouth opening in a little ‘o’ of dumbfounded surprise. “You… you know? Just like that?”

He smiles like a genial old man and nods. “Oh yes. It’s pretty obvious once you know. Because, my dear-” he lifts his finger. “All these pigs are, in fact, male. They fight for territory and the right to mate.”

The Farmer’s face goes slack for a moment. She looks back at her pigs. Sure enough, all of them got fat testicles swinging between their hind legs. She hadn’t even paid any attention…

“But what am I going to do now?” she asks in a soft whisper. “I can’t believe Marnie only sold me boys…”

“Don’t you worry, my dear. That’s what Shane is here for. He’ll sort it out for you in a moment’s notice.”

.o.

“And you are sure he is okay with that? He looked a bit… apprehensive.”

“Poppycock! He’s loving it in there, don’t you see?”

“I mean… I can. That’s… whew…” she trails off, her gaze stuck on what little they can still see of Shane beneath one of her pigs. The soft muddy ground of the pen, paired with the immense weight of the animal means he is stuck deep in the mud, his belly dragging just against the ground as he is being mounted by his first suitor.

While the other two pigs are still watching, a bit unsure of what is happening but apparently more than happy to forget their little feud for the moment, the third one had waddled up to Shane as if it had known perfectly well what he was there to do.

There had been little to no hesitation from the animal to mount up and start inching closer, getting its slippery corkscrew cock to touch Shane’s hole – before glancing off again.

Still, Farmer can’t quite get over her apprehension. She leans over the fence, angling her head to try and catch Shane’s eyes. “Are you really alright? Isn’t that pig too heavy?” she asks with worry in her voice.

There’s a beat of silence. She isn’t aware of the critical stare Mayor Lewis shoots at Shane.

Shane cranes his head, peering around his bicep. His face is beet red and pears of sweat are already visible on his forehead from the strain of being underneath such a large, heavy animal.

“...It’s okay!” His voice is pressed and cracks through the last word – but that may also be simply because the pig’s cock has once again dragged across his hole in that moment.

The Farmer falls quiet again. She’s still hanging over the fence, though now she’s more watching in morbid fascination as one of her pigs keeps hunching its hips, trying to find the pussy that is on offer.

It doesn’t quite manage it for now, but she has to admit there is a certain… fascination to watching the whole thing go down. She can see glimpses of the odd wet looking cock. It’s not girthy by any means, but it is long and seems to constantly be moving; truly like some kind of screw.

She clears her throat and pulls back a little. Her thighs feel warmer than they should. To distract herself for a moment, she glances toward her other pigs. They have waddled closer, watching with interest.

Do they understand what is going to happen? They are very intelligent animals; probably the most intelligent that she has on her farm right now.

“They certainly seem more civil already,” she murmurs, chest pressed against the fence and chin on her stacked arms. One of them wanders over and she drops her hand to carefully scratch across its head. It softly chortles a few times. “Yes,” she mutters under her breath. “Much more civil. I can’t believe I didn’t notice they were all males.”

“It happens,” the Mayor interjects amiably, bouncing on the balls of his feet, thumbs stuck into his suspenders. He looks like ordering one of the townspeople to get fucked by a pig is the most normal thing to do.

“Is Shane your… assistant now or something? I think I heard someone say that they haven’t seen him in Joja Mart for ages…”

“Something like that, yes,��� Mayor Lewis replies obstinately, obviously unwilling to share any more light on the confused Farmer.

He is luckily spared more probing questions as Shane cries out in that moment. Softly, somehow; it is not a sound of distress, anyway. The Farmer’s mouth closes with a click, her fingers now motionless on the pig’s head as she watches the mating proceedings in the muddy pen.

The pig finally found its hole, it seems. As she watches, it awkwardly pushes forward on its stubby legs before all but deflating as it exhales with the happy sounds of a thoroughly satisfied pig.

It does not need to move its hips to fuck the man underneath its gut, Farmer realizes, her mouth open against her forearm. Her eyes are starting to burn but she can’t make herself blink, too fascinated by the sight of Shane actually… really… undoubtedly – getting fucked by one of her pigs.

She had not imagined her morning to go this way when she woke up to tend to the crops, but she sure as Hell isn’t going to complain.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Laisse tomber les filles 1

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; size kink; age gap; manipulation; tags to be added as story progresses

This is a dark!fic and Lee Bodecker x (short) reader and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find yourself ostracized on campus by your shyness, but your reticence won’t deter an unwanted suitor.

Note: Just so you’re aware, this takes place during the mid-60s and Lee is a little older than in the movie :) Just so you’re not confused.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

You felt alone on campus. 

When you got your acceptance, your parents swore it would be the experience of a lifetime, not to mention the value of education. Always the quiet one, withdrawn and wispy, the thought of moving away from home and living among strangers made you nervous. 

Your first day in the dormitory assured you of your doubts and a semester in, you were still the sore thumb among the six girls in your unit. Your lectures were your sole respite from the pressure to make friends and fit in. You were always early and always intent on the professor.

That was what you were there for after all. If you wanted to hold onto your bursary, you had to maintain your average. You couldn’t be like the other students; you didn’t have rich parents or a trust fund, your degree actually had to mean something.

That night, you walked back from the evening book club meeting alone, as usual. You signed up in hopes you might meet someone like yourself, someone who didn’t just want to drink or smoke. While the members weren’t interested in the party life, they made you feel awful stupid as you struggled to pick up on the same themes in your readings and your sharing skills were never strong. 

When it was your turn to talk about the chapter, you stuttered and muttered until you just gave up. You replayed the disastrous meeting in your head, the used copy of Nabakov under your arm as your bag swung against your side. 

The sky turned a deepening azure as you reached Greek row and heard the muffled crackle of a record player and the buzz of voices from the largest of white houses painted with their respective fraternity colours. It was that new kind of music, the kind that made you want to hop, the kind the Christian club lobbied against on campus green.

As you got further down the street, the late winter crisp crawled up your thick stockings and made you shiver. You got closer to the raucous façade and watched as a couple stumbled out in bubbly conversation and quickly embraced against a pillar of the porch. You kept your head down and focused on the sidewalk.

A flash of blue and the ‘wop’ of a siren brought you to a halt. You stopped just at the corner of the frosty yard, the cloudy breath of the co-eds filling the air as they parted. The cruiser door opened and closed loudly and steady footsteps crossed the street. You watched from the shadows as the officer strode up the walk and stopped at the bottom of the stairs, propping his foot up on the lowest plank.

“You kids are bein’ awfully loud,” his voice carried above the din, he had the local accent that lilted his tone so that even the meanest words were dampened.

“Sorry, officer,” the girl pulled away from the boy and came to the top of the steps, “it’s Friday and we were just having fun--”

“Yeah, yeah,” the cop said as he hooked his thumb on his belt, “y’all know I’m here every week… you turn that racket down or maybe I come in and find something that needs confiscatin’.”

“Got it,” the frat boy said as he stood beside the girl, “I’ll tell Leighton.”

“Ain’t fun for me neither,” the officer slid his foot down to the ground, “I don’t like to ruin you kids’ night.”

“Thank you, officer,” the boy said, “I’m goin’ now.”

“Mhmm, I’ll see you next week then,” the cop scoffed as the boy grabbed the girl and dragged her inside. His voice called through the noise of the crowd for the boy Leighton and the music dulled just enough that it was only a subtle hum, “funny kids.”

The officer turned and chuckled as he reached into his jacket. He paused and his eyes wandered over to you as you stood silently by the edge of the yard. He pulled out a small box and tapped out a toothpick as he smiled at you. He replaced the box in his pocket as he stopped short.

“You headin’ in, girl?” he asked as he placed the toothpick between his lips, “looks like you late for the party.”

“Uh, no, I was just… going home,” you slowly urged yourself forward, “didn’t want to get in your way.”

You tapped towards him in your mary janes as you adjusted the book in your hand. He watched you approach as you kept your head down, just wanting to get past and get on to your dorm.

“Hold up,” he said just as you reached him, “you walkin’ home all alone after dark?”

“My dorm is just… just around the corner,” you said as you stopped and kept your eyes on his shoes, “thank you, officer.”

“Now, I don’t care if it’s just right there, you shouldn’t be alone,” he insisted, “how’s bout a ride, hmm? I gotta make a round of the campus anyway.”

“I can make it on my own…” you began and he tutted, “I mean, thank you, I suppose it’s rude to… um…”

“You’re not from these parts, huh?” he asked, “you got that accent. Real fine.”

“Uh uh,” you uttered, “it’s a nice place though.”

“City is, but the rest of the county...” he remarked, “you must be far from home then.”

“A little,” you shrugged.

“Well,” he rubbed his hands together, “let’s get goin’, it’s cold tonight.”

“Thank you, again,” you slowly followed him as he backed away and turned to cross the street.

“Not at all,” he said warmly as he neared the car and pulled open the back door, “one thing, it’s against policy to let passengers in the front seat.”

“Oh?” you blinked and looked into the cruiser, “I can walk, I--”

“Go on,” he waved you in, “probably comfier back there anyhow.”

You gave a tight-lipped smile and slid into the back seat. You swept your bag up into your lap as the door snapped shut and tucked the book under the flap. The car shifted as he got in the front and he looked at you in the wide rear view mirror.

“Mind my manners, I didn’t even introduce myself, Sheriff Bodecker,” he jingled his keys as he spoke, “and you, honey?”

You hesitated at the added pet name. No one ever called you anything but ‘miss’ or ‘young woman’. You cleared your throat and shifted as you tugged nervously at your scarf as it pressed against your chin. It was damp from your hot breath. You gave him your name and shrank back against the leather.

“This your first year?” he asked as he pulled out and tossed his toothpick out the window.

“Yes, sir,” you answered and you saw his head tilt just slightly as he drove slowly.

“You like it?” he continued.

“It’s… new,” you said stiffly, “I don’t know many people but I… I’m learning a lot.”

“Oh, I hear they teach lots of interesting things these days. Lotta red nonsense,” he sighed, “which way am I goin’, honey?”

“Left, sir, the third building on your right with the orange brick,” you replied.

“No parties to go to?” he snickered as he came up to your dormitory and rolled to a stop.

“I… I’m not much for them, sir,” you said as you tried the handle but the door didn’t budge.

“Sorry, forgot about that,” he got out and opened the door from outside, “there ya go.”

You stepped out and your foot slipped on a patch of thin ice. You caught yourself on the door as he grabbed your arm and helped steady you. You laughed nervously and thanked him.

“Careful there,” he said, “hate for you to mess up that face, honey.”

“I’m alright,” you assured him and carefully drew away from him, “thank you for the ride, I really appreciate it.”

“It’s just my job,” he sniffed, “you know, keepin’ the campus safe… when I can.”

“I’m sure you have much more to worry about than some college kids,” you said.

“Eh, you’d be surprised,” he intoned, “I’m around on Fridays, there’s always noise complaints ‘round here.”

You were quiet, unsure what to say or how to detach yourself gracefully. You just wanted to go inside and listen to the radio as you reread the chapter. You smiled nervously and he looked down at you beneath the streetlight.

“I might see you around,” he said, “and don’t mind givin’ ya another ride, ya know? Can’t have you lost in the dark, heh.”

“It’s nice of you, sir, but I’m grown now, I can take care of myself,” you assured him, though you hated how black it got on this side of campus.

“Well, don’t be shy, give me a wave if you see me,” he closed the door as you sidestepped it, “and you have a good night. Get yourself warmed up with some nice tea… though I know you college kids prefer a harder comfort.”

“I don’t drink,” you said awkwardly, “but, uh… good night, officer.”

You went around the back of the car and stepped up onto the curb. You went up to the grated door and fished out your key. You peeked over your shoulder as you unlocked the door and found the Sheriff watching you over the roof of his car. 

His large-brimmed hat shadowed his face and his constant gaze sent a shiver through you, but that could’ve been the nightly chill. You gave a small wave and let yourself in, quickly hiding behind the inner door, happy to be home safe.

[thefanficmonster]

Casual

Ranboo x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None, unless talking about the future counts

Genre: FLUFF, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following the arrival of the dreadful invitation to his cousin’s wedding Ranboo turns to the only cover-up he can think of to keep his still-single status hidden from his family.

Requested by Anon. Hi darling! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so glad you sent your idea to me and I’m so glad you were my first official Ranboo request. I’m really sorry it’s taken me so long to write it but I still hope you’ll come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Heyyy, so Y/N, I have a favor to ask you...um yeah, call me back, it’s awkward sending it via voicemail. Bye“

Huh - that’s the first thought that goes through my head when I listen to the voicemail left after a missed call from my best friend Ranboo. The favors he usually asks for consist of requesting assistance for his videos in which I also appear with a mask and sunglasses to keep the brand running. I genuinely have nothing against my face being shown but when I think about it, I’m honestly a bit glad people can’t identify me.

Anyways, back to the favors, Ranboo is no stranger to asking me for them but they’ve never been considered too awkward for a voicemail which is why I’m no slightly concerned. I’ve been swamped with work for school and studies for the graduation finals for the past two weeks and it seems like I’ll never get on top of it and I know Ranboo’s been in a similar situation too, so maybe he needs help with that? He’s not used to asking help for school stuff, he sometimes even has a hard time accepting it when I openly offer it to him.

I eventually sigh, decide that playing this guessing game will not get me anywhere and settle on giving him a call as I make my way home from the gym with my legs barely putting up with the task of carrying me around.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! Wh-...“

“Would you pretend to be my girlfriend for my cousin’s wedding next weekend?!“

My legs take that opportunity to stop moving in the middle of the sidewalk which is luckily void of any people at the moment. It’s not my fault my body’s first reaction was to freeze up at the question that came flying at me like an out-of-control jet, almost as though he’s been dying to say it and get it over with.

“Um...run that by me again please, I think I misunderstood.“ I say, blinking blankly as though awoken from a fever dream. No, actually as though I’m IN a fever dream right now.

“Ok, now that the cat’s out of the bag, wanna grab some coffee and talk about it face-to-face. I need to see your facial expressions to gauge what response to expect.“ He says, the previous nervousness gone and his voice calm as regularly once again.

I’m this close to face-palming but I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and bring myself to utter a reply, “Our usual spot. Be there in ten minutes.”

                                                             *  *  *

“No freaking way.“ I shake my head, folding my arms over my chest as I lean back in my seat in the booth we picked when we arrived. Good thing I got an iced coffee cause even a hot one would’ve gone cold by now considering I haven’t yet taken the time to have even a sip of it. I’ve been too busy listening to the long and short of the explanation and begging speech Ranboo probably made last night to try and convince me to agree to this nonsense. “Dude, we’ve been friends since middle school-...“

“Exactly! Who else was I gonna ask?“ He cuts me off, pleading gaze meeting my unimpressed one.

I huff before continuing my previous statement, “We’ve been friends since middle school so you know my opinion on weddings.” I put extra emphasis on the word ‘opinion’, giving him the clear hint at the distaste I’ve expressed on the topic multiple times before.

“And you know we’re on the same page there but there’s no way I can avoid going unless someone kidnaps me.“ He too now gets in the same stance as me, his coffee forgotten too.

I can’t help but snort out a little laugh, “I’d be more than happy to kidnap you considering the other option is far less appealing to me.“

He, of course, rolls his eyes at me as though he didn’t offer to do the same thing so I could avoid an exam but anyways. “So you’re gonna choose to fake a kidnapping that has the potential of landing you in jail over coming to eat some great food and maybe even have some fun at a wedding with your best friend? I’m hurt.“ He says, frowning to cover up the smile that’s fighting its way onto his face.

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes, “I’d be kidnapping you, dummy...” I cut myself off to let out a long sigh and calm down before I go off at him. His smirk isn’t helping me much with the task either. I’ve known Ranboo long enough to know he’ll eventually convince me and he’s known me long enough to know how to do that exactly. With that in mind, there’s really no point in getting so worked up and wasting my energy. And so, despite my own rationality, I cave. “Fine, but I’m not staying the whole wedding.“

His eyes immediately light up and almost makes me feel the compromise was worth it. Almost. I mean, when you’ve been best friends with someone for so long, seeing them happy is worth more to you than your own comfort sometimes.

And he knows it too. Which is exactly why he outstretches his hand for me to shake and says: “Just one dance and you’re free to go. Deal?”

I take his hand without hesitations. That’s a better offer than I could’ve ever imagined. “Damn straight it’s a deal.“

                                                            *  *  *

“How long until you kick the heels off?“ Ranboo asks, bringing me a non-alcoholic cocktail and sitting down next to me.

I take a sip and giggle, “You kidding? I already kicked them off and replaced them with flats. I need mobility if we dance. They also lower the risk of me severing off a toe of yours if I step on you on accident.”

He laughs, clinking his glass against mine before he gets a bit more serious, “By the way, thanks for handling my family’s attack so well. I know it might’ve been a bit much but you handled it like a pro. Still, I’m sorry on their behalf.”

I shake my head and wave my hand dismissively, “Don’t mention it. I’d probably react the same way if my brother or cousin brought a date to an important family event like this.” I instinctively turn to look in the direction of where the majority of his family has gathered around, chatting with guests, smiling brightly. It’s hard not to immediately take a liking towards these people. They’ve been a second family to me ever since Ranboo and I started hanging out so I completely understand why they were so shocked to see me in the role of his ‘girlfriend’.

“I’ll tell my parents the truth later, our extended family is the ones I wanted to fool to be perfectly honest.“ He looks around as do I and we catch more than a few pairs of eyes fixated on us that turn away when they realize they’ve been spotted, “Mission accomplished by the looks of it.“

I chuckle. I’ve never felt so comfortable at a wedding before. I don’t feel stressed nor anxious despite knowing that there’s quite the number of eyes on me and there are whispers going around about my ‘relationship’ with Ranboo. It’s oddly calming and relaxing to be surrounded by some familiar and some unfamiliar faces. This cocktail is pretty great too.

Speaking of which, if it had any alcohol in it I’d blame it for the decision I’m about to make but this one’s entirely on me: I tap Ranboo with one hand while taking out my phone with the other. “If we’re already the talk of the wedding, let’s give them something to talk about.“ I say as I put up my phone, pretending to be taking a selfie leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.

When I pull away I can clearly see that he’s still processing what just happened. I can’t help but burst out in a fit of laughter as I reach out to wipe the lipstick stain I left on his cheek. He looks like a lost, clueless puppy with the question: ‘what on Earth just happened???’ replaying in his head and it’s so freaking cute!

Wait....what was that? Since when do I use the adjective cute to describe Ranboo? Didn’t I think he looks handsome in a suit earlier too? The hell is with me today?

Then it hits me - the feeling isn’t foreign. Like, I know I’ve felt it before but I never analyzed it or even bothered to acknowledge it. But now that I do, I’m afraid of what it might be.

“There!“ I say, desperately trying to push the thoughts away along with this little firework show in my stomach, “Now you have pinker cheeks. Well, cheek, singular.“

As if snapping out of his state of confusion, he returns to Earth with a smirk, “Kiss the other to even it?”

Alright, his blush might not be even but mine now is and it’s ten times as intense and very much apparent but I don’t let the feeling shine through anything else as I proceed to actually kiss his other cheek too, wiping the lipstick stain.

“Thanks. You’re the best.” And just like that, as though it’s no big deal, he kisses my forehead.

See, that’s the thing, it shouldn’t be a big deal! It’s never been! This is far from the first time I’ve kissed him on the cheek or the first time he’s given me a forehead kiss. These are regular occurrences after years of this lovely friendship we have. Why do they feel so different now?

Then, much to my relief, the music starts and the lights turn off leaving only one spotlight for the groom and bride to have their first dance. They look absolutely astonishing and I can certainly say I’ve never before stopped to think that about any newly weds of the weddings I’ve preciously been to. I don’t know if it has something to do with the company I have for this particular wedding or it’s maybe the fact that my mindset’s changed over the years without me realizing.

Then I automatically look at Ranboo who just so happens to be looking at me too and all I can say is: my mindset hasn’t changed.

A loud applause takes over when the couple finish their dance, officially opening the dancefloor for any other pairs who’d like to occupy it and I’m happy to see how many people are eager to rush up with their partner.

 Ranboo gets up, putting the glass down and offers me his hand, “So, wanna dance? Don’t take this as a sign to leave though, we said one dance and you CAN leave, not SHOULD.” He says, giving me a warning look.

I roll my eyes and am about to give him some sass right back but he takes my hand and picks me up from my seat, leading me to the dancefloor.  And I gotta admit maybe it’s a good thing he did. If he left it to me I would’ve probably said no to the dance and ran the hell away. Why? - Cause I’m freaking terrified of this new mindset and point of view and these intense emotions I never used to pay any mind to before in regards to my best friend.

Friends don’t feel that way about friends. Friends don’t look at friends that way. What’s happening to me?

When I gotta look him in the eyes like this, not for the first time might I add, I can finally understand how the friends-to-lovers trope works: it’s all meaningless until it starts to mean so much to you. It’s all platonic until it reminds you of a romantic movie moment. It ‘best friends’ until it’s ‘I wish we were more than that’. It’s all casual, until it’s not.

And, unfortunately, it’s irreversible.

Damn do I wish I ran away now...

[bonny-kookoo]

Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader

Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else

Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?

Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?

A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.

On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.

He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.

Jungkook had made it.

Well, not quite.

Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.

"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.

And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.

"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.

"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.

"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.

Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.

You were so tiny next to him.

He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.

You were so cute.

You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.

"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.

"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.

If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.

You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.

"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.

"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.

"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.

"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.

"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.

Jungkook really pays attention.

"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.

"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.

"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.

Not the time Y/N, not the time.

"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.

"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.

You don't know what to say.

He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.

When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.

He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.

"Good girl."

It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.

"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.

"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-

"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.

"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"

"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.

And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.

It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.

Things are different between you two in general.

After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.

And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.

It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.

"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.

"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.

"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.

"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.

"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.

"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.

"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.

Almost.

"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.

"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.

"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.

"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.

He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.

"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.

"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.

"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.

It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.

You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.

He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.

"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.

"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.

"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.

He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.

Jungkook is frustrated.

He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.

And not just hugging and holding hands.

It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.

As far as he knows, he had done everything right.

But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.

'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.

'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.

'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.

But its your answer that makes him fume.

'Good to know.'

"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.

"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.

"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.

"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.

"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.

"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.

'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'

"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.

"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.

In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.

"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.

"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.

"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.

"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.

Thank god you're staying the night.

"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.

"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.

He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.

Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.

He's anything but.

He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.

There's no urgency in anything he does.

He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.

"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.

"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.

"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.

What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.

Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.

"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.

"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.

Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.

"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.

"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.

"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.

"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.

"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.

"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.

"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.

"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.

"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.

Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.

"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."

And he can't help but grin at you.

You really are the sweetest thing.

You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.

"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.

"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.

"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.

"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.

Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.

(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.

[skeezsbbygirl]

kiss it better + bang chan

hello lovelies! (づ￣ ³￣)づ

im back with another bang chan scenario <3 hope you guys enjoy this one!! (oh and tmt hit 1k+ notes ahhh thank you so much >.<, also i might be uploading a prince!chan fic soon, stay tuned sunshines)

STRAY KIDS EVERYWHERE ALL AROUND THE WORLD.

"Chris, baby, please."

It's been two hours, nearing three, since Chris decided to give you the silent treatment. The cause of your current suffering rooted from the events that took place last night.

A college friend of yours happened to be visiting the city, and what better way to celebrate a rare occasion than dressing up and going for a girl's night out with a bunch of your other friends. Chris happily agreed to let you go, he didn't need much convincing since he trusted you with everything and that included you getting home in one piece.

As the late hours of the night passed and shifted over to the wee hours of the morning, Chris grew worried, checking his phone for the nth time as he expected a call or text from you to reassure him that you were fine, or that you were at least still alive somewhere.

Fortunately, he managed to get a hold of your situation through one of your friends, credits to Jisung for grabbing her number that one time you guys set them up for a date.

"Hyung, she said that (y/n) got into a cab ten minutes ago," Jisung explained over the phone. "Her phone also died, so that's probably the reason why you haven't heard from her," he added.

"Alright, got it. Thanks, Ji."

Strike one.

Your drunk self thought that it was a good idea to call for a cab, even declining your girlfriend's offer to drive you home. You insisted that you were fine and that you would only derail their way home since your apartment's route leads to the opposite direction. So, in your semi-intoxicated state, you hopped into a cab and made your way home.

Strike two.

You came home last night, struggling to keep a certain level of sobriety. Heels in one hand and your clutch in the other. You weren't completely hammered, but it was still enough to piss Chris off as he took in your drunken state.

Strike three.

Nevertheless, Chris patiently took care of you. He helped you out of your clothes, took your makeup off for you, and tucked you in bed with him.

You could've gotten away with what happened, until your hungover self decided to betray you.

When Chris sat you down for breakfast, he managed to ease in the happenings of last night, carefully bringing it up as to not agitate you or make you feel like he's blaming you for going out and having fun.

He was just worried, especially having known that you went home all by yourself without even contacting him.

"Baby, you could've borrowed one of your friends' phone and asked me to come pick you up," Chris sighed as he reached out for your hand, placing his on top of yours, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

"I know and I'm sorry, but can you just scold me later?" you said, your tone a little harsher than you intended it to be, probably due to the lingering headache and side effects of your drinks last night. You felt like your skull was being split into two and you just wanted to eat and recover in silence.

"Babe, I'm not scolding you. I was just-"

You cut Chris off. "Alright, I get it, you were worried but I took care of myself. So let's just argue later, yeah?" you snapped.

And you're out.

Upon hearing your reply, Chris' jaw clenched, visibly appearing offended and irritated. He retracted his hand from yours, opting to cross his arms over his chest.

You bit your tongue when the words you spat out finally settled in. It sounded wrong and you definitely shouldn't have said that. You readied yourself for the argument that was about to ensue, but nothing came.

"Okay."

That was all he said before he stood up and left.

Your eyes widened at the sudden realization that slapped you back into reality, the ugly outcome of your sudden outburst.

You were about to get up and follow Chris to apologize, however, the sudden throbbing pain in your head disabled you from getting out of your seat. Instead, you were forced to sit back down and wallow in guilt.

And that's how you ended up getting the silent treatment.

You left your boyfriend alone for a few hours, hoping that his anger would dissipate by the time that your hungover got better. But much to your dismay, he wasn't having it with you.

"Baby, can I come in?" you knocked on the door of Chris' home studio.

Silence.

"Chris, baby, please," you tried again, but you were still met with silence. You let out a sigh as you ambled back towards the living room, deciding to just give him space and talk it out whenever he's ready.

Chris was naturally a forgiving person, a little tougher on his members, but a complete sweetheart when it comes to you. So when he gave you the silent treatment for the very first time that day, you didn't know what to do.

So, you waited.

A couple of hours passed, three and a half, now, to be exact, you heard Chris' door unlock. You immediately perked up at the sound, quickly scurrying on your feet to meet him.

"Chris, I'm sorry," you apologized with your head hung low, eyes on the ground, and fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

Nothing. Nothing, but the cold breeze of Chris passing by, giving you no due attention. He sauntered towards the kitchen and opened the fridge, paying more attention to the cold food items that were displayed in front of him.

How you wish you were the half-eaten cheesecake now, huh?

Having enough with his torturous act, you were set on using the two tricks you had up your sleeves -- 1) faking an injury, as petty as that sounds, you were desperate, and 2) luring him with something he likes, be it an innocent gesture or a daring one, you would practically do anything at this point.

With your first plan in mind, you crept up behind him and positioned yourself near the edge of the marble kitchen island, placing your hip at the sharp corner so that it would appear as if you bumped against it.

From a third person's point of view, you probably looked stupid, scratch that, you did look stupid, but you were set on breaking Chris' silent streak.

"Ah!" you yelped in pain, hands quickly coming up to clutch your right side. You dropped on the ground, still maintaining your hold on your "injured" torso.

As soon as you cried out in pain, Chris hurried to your side.

"Baby, are you okay?" he asked with a worried expression plastered on his face. His cold demeanor immediately melting once he saw you clutching your side. "What happened, babygirl?" he crouched down to meet your level.

"I accidentally hit the edge of the counter," you said. "Come here, baby," Chris placed your arms around his neck as he scooped you up from the ground, carrying you bridal style towards the living room.

"Show me where it hurts, love," Chris ordered as he sat you down with him. He carefully moved you on his lap, making you straddle him.

"Right here," you pointed towards a random patch of skin on your right side. Chris placed his hand over the supposedly injured area, gently soothing it with the warmth that radiated from his palm.

Adding the icing on the cake, you hissed in pain as his hand came in contact with your skin. "Shh, it's okay, baby. I got you," Chris cooed as he planted a kiss on your cheek, in hopes of making you feel better.

He lifted your shirt up a bit, allowing him to inspect for any cuts or damage to your skin. "Do you want me to go get an ice pack?" Chris offered. "No, it's fine," you replied.

"Alright, just tell me if need anything," Chris responded as he leaned down to press a chaste kiss on your exposed skin, tugging your shirt back down as he pulled away.

You nuzzled your face into his neck, in an attempt to conceal the grin that was forming on your lips. Completely fooled by your actions, Chris continued rubbing your side as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"Does it hurt anywhere else, baby?" Chris asked and you nodded. "Here," you pulled away from him and pointed towards your chest. He shot you a puzzled look, confused as to why your chest would hurt when you claimed that you bumped your side.

"Because I was trying to apologize to my boyfriend a couple of hours ago, but instead, he gave me the silent treatment," you pouted.

Chris bursted out in laughter as he heard your response.

"It's true. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he locked himself inside his studio. Totally unfair and uncalled for," you continued and Chris shook his head in disbelief, his laughter coming to a stop as he calmed down.

"I could say the same thing about what happened last night," Chris challenged, raising one eyebrow at you.

"I'm sorry. I know I was being stupid. I should've called you or at least shot you a message from my friend's phone to let you know that I was coming home late. I just thought that if I called, I was going to end up bothering you, considering that it was such an ungodly hour," you explained, fiddling with the string of his hoodie.

"(Y/n), you could never be a bother to me," Chris said, "And did you honestly think that I could sleep knowing that you were out there?"

"I was so worried about you. Thank Jisung for having one of your friend's number because I was this close to losing it," Chris stated.

"I know. I'm really sorry," you pressed a kiss to his lips. "I promise I won't do it again, forgive me?" you added, pecking his lips once more.

"I can't stay mad at you," Chris let out a defeated sigh. "Of course. I forgive you, babygirl," he gave you a small smile.

You cheered and pulled him in for a hug, momentarily forgetting about your said injury.

"Do you feel better now?" Chris teased as he poked your sides, making you jolt in surprise. "Christopher!" you squealed, bursting in a fit of giggles as you realized that you've been caught red-handed.

Well, at least the intentions of your plan worked.

"You know what they say, desperate times call for desperate measures," you shrugged and Chris chuckled in amusement. He leaned in and gave you a kiss.

"You're lucky you're cute."

[lenathesingingcat]

For day 11 of @themiserablesmonth and the prompt “Wish”, here’s me projecting my own Tragic Backstory™️ and feeling better by doing so!

TW: discussion of an OC who killed themselves (off-page, nothing bad actually happens within the fic but it is talked about) and the effects that has on friends.

Wish You Could Be Here

Enjolras was often awake after midnight working on Les Amis’ activism, but what was unusual was for anyone he knew to be up at the same time, at least to his knowledge. That’s why the text confused him, but he read it through.

I miss you. I know you’ll never read this, but I wish I could talk to you, I wish I could see you again. I thought I’d got better, I’d stopped blaming myself for not messaging you enough, but then… I don’t know. I went to some karaoke place, and someone sung a song from a show you were in when we were little. When she sung the part about her child, about their bright, hopeful future, I just cried. Who knows what your future could have been… I just wish I could see you again, even just once.

Enjolras quickly texted back, This is my new number. I’m very sorry for your loss.

A new message arrived. I’m sorry. I never meant to disturb anyone, especially at this time of night, or, well, morning. Didn’t know this was anyone’s number, at least anymore.

It’s alright, I’m up late too, working. But it sounds like you need to talk to someone.

Maybe I do, but none of my friends even know about this. I’m not about to drag them into this now, when they all have bigger things to worry about.

Enjolras considered this, before replying, Well, how about me? I already know, and I could listen, or help you find someone more qualified than me. Your friends may have “bigger things to worry about”, but my priority is helping whoever needs it.

It was a few minutes before the person replied, and Enjolras started to worry, but then a reply came through. It isn’t really something I can express via text.

Then I’ll meet you. Do you know the Musain?

If you’re sure I won’t be bothering you was the reply, and this made Enjolras all the more sure.

I’m sure. Tomorrow, after lunch?

Don’t you mean today? was the reply, followed by, I’ll be there.

The next day, or the same day depending on how you look at it, Enjolras waited. To his surprise, Grantaire walked in. He probably shouldn’t have been too surprised, since all of Les Amis came here quite a lot, but he called him over.

Grantaire looked surprised too, but he sat down anyway. “Enjolras? What are you doing here?”

“I’m waiting for someone. I thought maybe if you don’t have anywhere to be, I could talk to you.”

“Actually, I am meeting someone here. Some random stranger who thinks they can solve all my problems. And before you try to tell me just how sketchy that sounds, I know, I’m still not sure if I’m about to get murdered. But then, that would solve my problems, wouldn’t it?” Grantaire tried to play it off as a joke, but Enjolras could see the sadness in his eyes.

And then it clicked.

“I can’t believe this! You were the one who texted me?”

“Impossible.” Grantaire seemed sure. “I have your number. I would have known I was talking to you.”

“I had to get a new number! Some people who are against our cause found out my number. I put all this on the groupchat for Les Amis, asking everyone to text my new number so I could add them to my phone, but…”

“That explains it. I’m not part of the group.”

Enjolras looked at him in surprise. “Why not? I sent you an invite to join…”

“Didn’t think it would make much difference. After all, I never contribute anything…”

“That’s not true, Grantaire. You point out how we could fail, and we use that to make our plans better. And… well, you make us happy. You make me happy. I know I’ve never expressed that before, but - ”

“And it seems pretty convenient that you suddenly express it when you find out that I need help! You think it’s your job to save everyone! But you can’t. I learned the hard way that some people can’t be saved from their own minds…”

“But most people can, and so we have to try. And you must understand. Look how much you’ve been hurt by what happened. Don’t do that to Les Amis.”

Grantaire looked at the floor for a moment. “I never thought of it that way…” he admitted. “Alright, I give in, if only for Les Amis, since you’re convinced I mean so much to them.” He laughed, then turned serious again. “Will you help me find help?”

“Of course.” Enjolras resisted the urge to pull Grantaire into a hug, to tell him the real reason why he needed Grantaire to stay. This wasn’t the time. If it went wrong between them now, that could make things much worse. So he would wait. And then he would be there.

[rafaelblackbird15]

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this. 

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation. 

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power. 

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

*******

Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

**********

your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

*********

Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

***********

Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

*********

It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

*********

You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

********

Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

***********

[dahliawolfe]

Sweet Pt. 1 Propositions

Original fic

“I just paid $1,500 last week!” I growl into the phone.

“This is a new course of treatment that I think Marian would benefit greatly from.”

I sigh. I can barely keep my own lights on. “Sure, you want to try this this week. What will it be next week?” I rub my temples, feeling a headache coming on.

“Ms. Winchester, I’m only trying to help your mother. You can decline the treatment, but I must say, I believe that this may be just what your mother needs.”

“Fine, I’ll have the money by the end of the week.” With that, I slam the phone back down on the receiver, and pick up my notepad again. Looks like I’ll need to put in overtime this week.

҈

“Hi, I’m Sparrow, and I’ll be your waitress today. What can I get you to drink?” comes a softly lilting voice from above me as I take a seat at the diner that my client has chosen to meet at.

“Uhh, let me get a sweet tea, please,” I request, my Texas accent stronger than normal due to lack of sleep.

“Sure thing. Are you ready to order or would you like a few minutes?” the girl asks, and I finally look up. Fuck, she’s gorgeous. Her skin is milky white, and her hair is a bright copper. Her eyes are large and green. Her nose is delicate and small, and her lips are peachy and plump. And holy shit, I’m just staring at the poor girl. I clear my throat and give an awkward smile.

“I’ll take a few, if that’s alright.” She nods, offers one more crooked grin, and leaves the table.

I watch her walk away and notice how light she is on her feet. She seems to flow through the restaurant, dodging patrons and other servers. She’s agile, and I can’t help but wonder where that comes from. My mind flies with the possibilities of where she gained those skills until she comes back to the table with my drink. She places it on a coaster in front of me, and before my brain can process what I’m going to say, I speak. “Are you a dancer?”

She looks taken aback, but she recovers quickly. I open my mouth to apologize when she smirks and teases, “Yeah, this is just my day job.” I smile. She’s quick. I like that.

“Well, that’s quite cliched. You’re not from Manhattan, are you?” I ask, leaning forward, almost drawn to her.

“No. I was born in Dublin. We came here when I was six.”

“Ahh. Ireland. I’ve always wanted to go there. Tell me about it?” She looks around a little before shaking her head.

“I shouldn’t. I have other customers. Are you ready to order?”

“Oh, yes. I’ll have the daily special. You have a daily special, right?” She chuckles.

“Yes. I’ll put your order in.”

҈

The new guy in my section is nice. He’s got an accent. I guess that means he’s not from here either. He looks like he’ll be a good tipper, and I definitely need that. I have to make $500 by the end of the week.

I drop the bill off as I pass, making sure to give a smile to both him and his guest. I clean the remainder of my tables before returning to collect his payment. He offers me a black credit card and wolfish smile. He’s not bad looking. Maybe 30 or 35; greying dark brown hair; kind blue eyes; a day or two’s worth of stubble on his sharp jawline. He’s also large, probably over six feet and muscled. He’s impeccably dressed, definitely standing out from the blue-collar people we get in here. I drop his receipt off, wish him a goodnight, and continue about my business. The next time I come by, he’s gone, and he’s left me a crisp $100 bill as a tip. I smile and pocket the money.

͠

It’s nearly 1 a.m. before I get off of my shift. I took another shift, hoping to make a little extra cash. I huddle into my jacket as I make my way to the back parking lot where my old beater is parked. I nearly shit myself when somebody calls my name.

“Sparrow!” echoes across the lot. I spin on my heel and see that it’s the man from earlier.

“Fucking hell, man!” I exclaim, clutching my chest.  “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I demand, getting wary, finally realizing that this man has waited outside for nearly five hours on me. I clutch my keys between my fingers, shifting my weight to my toes in case I need to fight or run. He holds up his hands placatingly.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just wanted to speak to you. I want to make you an offer.”

“An offer?” I question, backing away.

“I’m a very wealthy man. And you’re a very beautiful woman. I would like you to be my sugar baby.” That catches my attention, throwing me off guard. I stop in my tracks.

“Your what now?”

“Sugar baby. I’d pay you to…”

“I know what a sugar baby is! I’m not a prostitute!”

“What?! No! It’s not like that! Look, just think about it, and if you have any interest at all, come to Vancelli’s tomorrow night at 8. If you don’t come, I’ll understand, but I really hope you do.” With that, he walks away, leaving me standing in the middle of an empty parking lot looking like an idiot.

҈

I walk away from Sparrow and cringe at myself. Maybe approaching her in the parking lot at 1 a.m. wasn’t the brightest idea. Good job, Collin. She probably thinks you’re psychotic now. But I know that I want her. I’ve had sugar daddy relationships before, and they haven’t worked out, but I feel like Sparrow is different. At least, I hope she is.

҈

͠

I haven’t slept all night. I don’t know why, but I’m considering his offer. Well, that’s not true, I do know why. Marian. My mother. She’s a paranoid schizophrenic. And I’m the one paying for her treatment. And I can barely make ends meet. Unless I come up with $300 extra this week, I won’t be able to keep my utilities on. That’s on top of the $350 I still need for her treatment. Fuck knows I have every right to just dump her on the state. Hell, she probably deserves it, but no matter what she’s put me through, I can’t do that. So, sighing, I make my way to my meager closet to try and find something nice enough for Vancelli’s.

I walk into the doors of Vancelli’s and immediately know that I’m underdressed, even though I’m wearing he best clothes I own; a black skater dress and black tights with black booties. I make my way over to the frowning concierge. “Hi, I’m meeting someone.”

“Name?”

“Uhh, umm…Well, I’m not sure who’s name it’s under, but my name is Sparrow.”

“You’re Mr. Atlas’s date?” he asks in disgust, studying me with cruel eyes.

“Yes,” I say, trying to stay confident.

“Very well, follow me.” He moves away from his post, and I follow him to a private dining room, where Mr. Atlas is sitting at a large candlelit table. He smiles when he sees me.

“Sparrow! You came!” he greets, standing and striding over to me.

“Uhh, yeah, here I am,” I answer nervously, rubbing the back of my neck.

“You look beautiful. That’ll be all, Anthony,” he says, waving the concierge away and placing a hand in the small of my back and leading me to the table.

“Thanks. I’m sorry I’m not exactly up to par, but this is all I had,” I explain, suddenly feeling very out of place.

“Nonsense, you look great. I’m Collin, by the way, Collin Atlas.”

“Have you thought about my proposition?”

“Sparrow Winchester,” I reply.

“Yes. And I need more information.” He nods and smiles.

“Ok. Well, you’ll have a weekly allowance, not counting the gifts I decide to give or you request. You’ll live in my apartment. You will travel with me. I will be the only man you see romantically, and you will be the only female I see. I will expect you to follow my rules, and we will discuss, if you agree, of course, your sexual preferences, as well as my own. But most importantly, I will be in charge.”

“Payment?”

“$1,500 a week, and a bonus $2,000 at the end of every month.” I feel my throat close up. Holy shit.

“When you say you’re in charge?” I ask, trying to stop my mind from reeling.

“In every way. I will control you in the bedroom, and you will be my little girl outside of it as well. I’ll expect you to call me Daddy at some point, when you’re comfortable enough to do so. But only in private. In public, you can call me Collin.”

“Is there a contract or something?”

“There will be, yes.”

“And what about when you get tired of me?” I can see the hurt flash through his eyes.

“I would make sure you were secure before I left you. And you would receive a $10,000 severance payment.”

I take a deep breath and lay my head back against the tall chair.

“Look, let’s enjoy dinner, and you can tell me your decision after dessert, alright?”

“Yeah, ok. Can I get a drink? Think I’m gonna need a drink.” He laughs.

҈

I study Sparrow as she absolutely devours her chocolate soufflé. She’s quite adorable. I sip my espresso and ponder my chances of walking away tonight with a new sugar baby. I believe they’re high, but I suppose I’ll soon find out.

After finishing her food, Sparrow wipes her mouth and clears her throat, taking another sip of her apple martini.

“Ok, let’s talk,” she says, sitting up straighter. I nod and do the same, leaning slightly into her.

“Your terms sound good. But I need an advance on my first payment. I have some business that I have to take care of by the end of the week. Also, might I suggest a one-month trial period? That way we can both feel each other out.”

“I like that idea.”

“Good. But about moving in with you. If we decide it isn’t going to work, where will I go?”

“Your severance will still apply, and you will have more than enough to find an apartment. But let’s focus more on the moment, shall we? Should I take this as a yes?”

“Yes.” I beam.

“Wonderful. Now, I need a way to contact you. What’s your phone number?”

“I don’t have a phone. I can’t afford it. You could call my job, I guess.” I’m stunned.

“No, we’ll get you a phone tomorrow. Now, I’ll call and make an appointment at Legacy Medical in the morning, I want you to get tested, as well as have a physical and pap smear. What birth control are you on?”

“I’m not on any.”

 “Hmm, well, we’ll work on that. Now, I’ll send movers by your place tomorrow. What’s your address?”

“Uhh, 113 West 49th, apartment 3B.”

“That’s a bad neighborhood. Are you safe there?”

“I make do.” I nod, not liking the answer, but knowing it’s the best I’ll get.

“Tell me, you’re how old?”

“20.” My eyes grow wide. I assumed she was a little older. She seems so mature.

“You just made me break the law, you know? Ordering you that drink.”

“It’s not my first drink,” she replies, looking at me evenly.

“It’ll be your last until you’re of age.”

“I…I’m Irish. Ma gave me my first drink when I was 14.”

“Maybe so, but Daddy won’t.” I can see her pondering just what in the hell she’s gotten herself into.

[pinkteapotwriting]

Not a burden

Marauders x reader

Summary : You’re depressed and the boys confront you about it

Warning : Swearing, depression, food mentions

Word count : 1044

---

I understand how it feels to have depression and just want to say if you’re depressed please reach out to a friend. You are not a burden and the people in your life love you. Boys can’t kiss your depression away this is just a comfort fic, but I promise you’re deserving of love. 

---

You could eat some food, you could drink some water. You could go for a walk, make tea. You could hangout with some friends and maybe forget for a little bit. But no amount of advised “self care” tips could make you any less empty. Sure, being kind to yourself was important, but buying yourself candy as a treat wouldn’t will you to brush your teeth, to finally shower, to feed yourself, and to even think about your boys. Guilt ebbed in the back of your mind as you laid down on your own dorm bed instead of your more common place of rest (lol pick any marauder’s bed anyway), but right now all you craved was to hide in the dark abyss of your room. This way you could hide, and they wouldn’t have to see you like this. You didn’t want to be a burden. So instead you laid on your bed, your troubled mind heavy enough to lull you to sleep.

At least this way you wouldn’t have to think.

You were woken up by a soft touch to your cheek, your grumbly voice very much opposite to the gentleness brushing against you. 

“Y/N, Y/N come on honey you’ve got to wake up.”

“Lils, I just wanna sleep.”

“You’ve been sleeping all day. Besides, I figured it would be better if I woke you up rather than them…”

“Them?”

Your question was quickly answered when you heard the stampede of rushed feet, and an impatient Sirius.

“Lily what’s taking so long?”

“Shut it Black, I just woke her up, give her some space.”

You did your best to hide under the covers as you felt the bed dip down and James speak up.

“Y/N come on are you alright?” At your silence he looked to Lily in question, but she could only offer a shrug. “Why don’t you come back to bed, you can sleep there instead, it feels empty without you, love.”

You held back a sniffle and shook your head, but somehow Lily was replaced with Remus without your realizing and he gently pulled down the covers to see you.

“Puppy, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine. Just tired, can you let me sleep now?”

“Sure, Sirius have you got her clothes and toiletry bag?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, we’re good to go then.”

Before you could even process what was happening you were being scooped up in Remus’s arms. So, without the possibility of escaping you were carried off towards the boys dormitory and soon enough you were being plopped on Remus’s bed.

“What the fuck guys.” 

“We love you too Y/N”

You just rolled your eyes at Sirius, but they were quickly drawn to the sound of Remus clearing his throat. Oh boy, here he goes. His level and concerned tone only reminded you how riddled with pity they were. They just felt bad, obligated out of guilt to bother keeping up with you. But still, you tried to listen.

“Y/N, we’ve barely seen you for the past three days, you’re not coming down to eat, you’re pushing everyone away. We’ve been worried sick, not to mention Marlene and Lily. Please, if we did something to hurt you tell us. But I think we both know there’s something else going on and we’re here to help.”

“Y/N we love you please.” James chided in while Sirius nodded in agreement.

“Stop it I’m fine, you don’t have to pretend it’s okay.” 

Sirius spoke up this time. “Pretend what?”

“I don’t know, just that you shouldn’t have to waste your time on me. I know you guys feel bad for me, but please you deserve better. You are everything and I’m disgusting and horrible and and.”

Sirius did not let you finish, considering he already let you call yourself disgusting by accident.

“That’s bullshit! You are not disgusting, and we don’t fucking pity you. We love you. I love you. We want to make sure you’re okay because we love you. You aren’t a burden and even if you were you are one we’d gladly carry. Not because we feel bad, but because you are wonderful and kind and funny and also kinda beautiful but that’s not the most important part.”

“It does kinda help though, doesn’t it Pads?”

“You’re right Prongs,  I’m certainly not complaining.”

You almost let out a laugh at that one, but then remembered all the things you had to be insecure about. Remus could sense it though, he probably knew how you were feeling the most, he knew it all too well.

“Y/N, do you love me? Even after a full moon when I’m not myself and recovering.”

*Sniffle* “Yes.”

“When Sirius got kicked out, and was having a hard time did you love him any less?”

“N-no.”

“Literally James could fucking breathe weird and you’d be coddling him.”

James was grinning ear to ear at that one.

“You are not worthless, we love you. Y/N I think you’re depressed and we want to be here for you. No matter how many times we say we love you, you’re beautiful, that we care, you won’t believe it until you do. That doesn’t mean we’ll ever stop though, okay?”

“K.”

Everyone breathed in the silence like it wasn’t a toxic poison tightening chests, and cutting off circulation. 

“I just” they all leaned in to listen “I just hate myself, like a lot. And I’m just having a hard time existing. I do love you and I’m sorry (Your voice was definitely breaking at this point just a heads up). Some days are better than others but right now I’m really struggling. I’m just tired.”

Remus pulled you into his chest to cradle your quivering body, Sirius slipped in behind, while James wrapped his long arms around all three of you.

Of course immediately the rest of the evening was filled with tender kisses, a hot bath, shitty movies, and a huge chunk of Remus’s chocolate stash. While that night was hard, and it wasn’t easy learning to love yourself, hell even tolerating yourself. They couldn’t make all the pain go away, that’s not their responsibility. But they loved you so much.

And always wanted to be there to show it to you.

---

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @weasleyposts @accioweaslcy @thotbutpurple

[calamity-in-the-heart]

FNaF Sun Drop fic (pt. 1)?

(I did this for funnies cause I’m stuck at home for a hot minute. Grammar is probably wack but please feel free to let me know how you feel abt this!)

It was a family trip to the Pizzaplex for Christmas. What made this all the more special was that everyone was old enough to wonder on their own. Except for one.

My folks neglected to share that our extended family was joining too. That meant a buddy system. Great. I prayed from some sort of miracle to work out. But just as I predicted, my family stuck me with the youngest cousin, Emily.

“All you have to do is to escort them to the Daycare. Then afterwards you can go wherever you want!”, my parents bribed.

Sounds simple enough, this shouldn’t take long. As I walked up to the daycare with my little cousin, she began to put on the brakes.

“What’s wrong?”, I asked.

“I’m going to be all alone”, she whimpered, “My siblings are to old to stay with me now. Can’t you stay with me”?

“I can’t stay with you, I’m WAY too old to stay here”, I said firmly.

My dreams of flying solo went out the window as soon as I saw fear wash over my little cousin’s face. I knew I wouldn’t enjoy myself if I left her in this state.

“I guess I can stay for a little bit. Just until you get settled..”, I say reluctantly.

“Thank you! THANK YOU!”, my cousin squeezed me tightly. Even though I was still eager to adventure on my own, this put my mind at ease.

After I checked her in and brought her to the slide, she began to back away. “Would it make you feel better if I went first?”, I suggested. She nodded. The slide did look tempting. Without hesitating, i jumped right in. As I cheered with excitement, I heard my little cousin follow. We shared a hearty laugh as we both plummeted into the ball pit. I was completely taken back by all the color and atmosphere. Despite it’s childish appeal, it was definitely eye candy.

“Haven’t you been here before?”, my cousin waking me out of a trance.

“I haven’t. In fact, this wasn’t made until I was about twelve. I had just missed the age limit. This… This is amazing!”, I awed.

“Haha. Trust me it gets old super quick.”, she replied, “I can’t wait to grow out of this”.

As we walked around saw all the kids play and tread through the crawl castles, I spotted a familiar animatronic walking around.

“Oh, so that’s the candy man I see on those posters! I wonder where he was hiding at”, I chimed in. “He’s no fun”, Emily disregarded, “He hates messes and he never likes us going too far away from him. All the kids like to mess with him”.

I watched as the kids run all over him like a door mat. The poor thing was really trying his best to entertain them. Despite his stature, he seemed to be very innocent. I quickly realized I was staring for too long.

“C’mon, Emily. Let’s go make some friends”, I announced. Emily froze. “I can’t go over there”, she protested. “Why?”, I asked, “They look about your age and obviously feel the same way about that robot. At least go and say hi”. Emily gulped, then she began to walk toward the crowd of kids. I held her hand as we approached the kiddie mosh pit. The kids ran simultaneously around the robot screaming and shouting. Emily walked up to a kid who was lagging behind.

“W-what are y’all doing?”, Emily uttered.

“We’re playing keep away!”, the slow boy answered happily, “He can’t clean up if we block him”! Emily let out a giggle as it all unfolded.

I couldn’t help but stare at the robot with sorrow. I had never seen something look so overwhelmed. Feeling an unnatural wave of confidence come over me, I intervened. “Alright, alright! Y’all had your fun now play somewhere else”! All the kids booed and hissed. Some began throwing blocks and other miscellaneous at me and the robot. I blocked their already terrible throws with my body.

“Are you with this girl?”, the kid asked Emily. Frantically, she looked at me for an answer. I shook my head no, giving her the okay to pretend to not know me. “No she’s weird.”, Emily said in disgust. “Let’s go, we can have better fun in the slides anyways”, the boy said taking Emily with him to one of the castles. She looked back at me giving me a smile with gratitude.

As I waved bye to her, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up to find the robot towering over me. “Hhheeellllooooo! I’ve never seen your face here! You’re much too old to be here! What’s your name? Where are you from? Are you with anybody?”, the robot continued.

“I’m Celestina, but everyone just calls me Tina for short. I just came in to drop off my lil’ cousin to daycare. She was too scared to come in on her own so I walked her in.”, I explained while pointing to my cousin.

The robot took a minute to process, then scanned the room. “OH I KNOW EMILY! She’s been coming here since she was a tiny tot! She usually has her siblings with her, where are they? Are they sick?? I hope they’re getting lots of rest and plenty of fluids!”

“Oh no her siblings are fine”, I chuckled “Their parents are letting them go play all by themselves in the Pizzaplex now.”

“Oh thank heavens! I thought something terrible had happened!! Can you tell Jack and Angie that Ol’ Sun Drop says hi for me? I miss them so much! I haven’t seen them in five months! I bet they look totally unrecognizable!! Do you think they remember me??”, the robot rambled.

Amazed at his memory and his concern for others, watching him ramble was pure enjoyment in itself. So much thought was put into him, it’s a shame he’s a daycare attendant. He was definitely under appreciated here. It just wasn’t fair.

“Sun Drop… what a lovely name!” I interrupted. He immediately stopped talking and stayed quiet. Did I just say that out loud? I felt a lump in my throat as the silence continued. He just starred into me with his foggy eyes and his corny smile. His head tilted ever so slightly. I felt my face flush, how embarrassing. “Sorry, I j-“

Sun Drop grabbed me by the waist and brought me into a tight bear hug. “It’s not often someone compliments me!! Thank you”!! He swayed me back and fourth and hummed joyfully for a very long time. I couldn’t help but plaster my head on his surprisingly soft, velvety chest. Then I heard his voice break the tension, “Tina is a lovely name, but Celestina such a beautiful name”.

[carrotmakar]

here’s to us

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Enemies To Lovers (with a twist)

Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: You hate Harry more than you’ve ever hated anyone else, and he feels the same (or does he?). The people around you see the interactions that the two of you have and believe that you’re a match made in heaven, but you can’t see it, and you doubt he can either. When he’s the last option to help you with a project that you’re working on, things are either going to go very well, or they're going to crash and burn.

Warning(s): alcohol, cursing, kink talk, angst, sadness, innuendos, tension, a set of lovers trying to convince two people that they’re meant for one another, fluff

A/N: this was originally a piece written for a writing challenge but that’s been cancelled (i love u liv take your time i will still participate in any and every wc you ever do bb) so this is now just another piece haha!! Thank you to @tbslenthusiast​ and @harrysclementines​ for letting me know that this piece wasn’t as bad as i thought it was (literally forever ago like.... i wrote this a long time ago lmao)!!! Also thank you to @kiwismoon​ for letting me send you parts of the fic and scream about how much i hate myself for writing things like i did!!!

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*

Relaxing.

That’s what you were supposed to be doing tonight. You’ve been stressed out about the article that was due in less than a week and you were in need of a night out with your friends. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find the inspiration to write the piece. Plus, you had been completely swamped with your school work. Even though you were still in college, you had gotten a job as a writer and chosen to take online classes. 

Sarah had suggested that you and her go out and have a few drinks. That had quickly developed into you, her, and Mitch. Then your ‘friend’ Michelle was added into the mix.

Now, you’re standing at the bar, waiting for your next shot of tequila and wondering how you let Sarah talk you into this. You hate bars. In all honesty, you only hate them because someone always seemed to mess up your nights when they were drunk. Luckily, that someone isn’t here tonight. You had made it abundantly clear to Sarah that if she were to invite anyone, it better not include him. 

As the bartender hands you your shot, you down it and place the glass down on the bar. You wait for him to retrieve it before turning to walk back to the table that Sarah, Mitch, and Michelle are occupying. Right before you sit down next to Sarah, you catch a glimpse of a very particular head of curls. Your stomach drops at the sight, and you immediately feel the urge to exit the building. There’s no way that you could mistake that for anyone else but Harry. He’s the only person that has curls as seemingly perfect as that. Plus, he’s the only broad shouldered, muscular, tattooed man that you’d ever seen around here with hair that’s grown out to the point where it passes his shoulders. 

Fighting the instinct to be as far away from him as possible, you sit down next to Sarah and do your best to ignore his presence.

That lasts all of three seconds. It’s as if something is pulling your focus towards him, and you can’t stand that, so you quickly tell Sarah that you’re going to head out. Grabbing your coat, you give her a story about suddenly having inspiration and not wanting to lose it before offering to take her almost empty cup back to the bar. She nods, wishing you a farewell.

As you’re making your way over to the bar, someone knocks into you and the small amount of liquid left in Sarah’s cup splashes onto your chest. You scoff, turning to tell whoever bumped into you to watch where they’re going. You’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes, and suddenly your words get caught in your throat. All you manage is a scoff and a quick “fuck you” before handing him the cup and walking out. 

You stand outside of the bar, leaning up against the brick wall of the building as you order an Uber for the ride home. The stench of alcohol is radiating from your shirt, and you almost gag at the smell. Beer has never been your favorite, and you have absolutely no clue how Sarah can drink it.

You place the order and go to stand on the sidewalk to wait for the car to pull up. 

“Fancy seeing you here.” The voice seems to carry through the entire street.

“What the fuck do you want, Harry?” you snap. The chuckle that he releases at your words makes your blood boil.

“Just wondering why you’re avoiding me, love.” You don’t have to turn to know that he has a smirk plastered on his face.

“Do you have a degradation kink or something?” Your words have their desired effect as he all but chokes on the air. 

“Um, no. Why? You trying to turn me on, darling?” You roll your eyes.

“Absolutely not.” How can he be so fucking annoying all the time? “I’m just wondering why you continuously pester me after I tell you how much of a dick you are and that I absolutely cannot fucking stand you.”

“Because normally when you do that, you find some way to compliment me. And I think it’s funny how flustered you get when you realize what you said.” You hear him walk closer to you, but you keep your eyes locked straight ahead of you.

“So you have a praise kink.”

When he speaks, his breath hits your ear. Fuck, you didn’t know he had gotten that close. You have to fight the shiver that’s threatening to run down your spine. You can’t give him the satisfaction of knowing that he’s having any kind of effect on you. “Do you want to test it out?”

You scoff, stepping away from him. “You fucking wish, Harry.”

He hums. “Maybe, maybe not.”

You finally turn to him. After seeing him, though, you begin to regret your decision. Seeing him like this, in a white t-shirt and black skinny jeans, hair forming his face in the most perfect way, isn’t doing you any good.

“I’m not going to be your temporary fix, Harry. Go find someone else to give you a good time.” He puts on an exaggerated pout. “I don’t even like you as a friend, so stop fucking around like that. It pisses me off.”

Before he can say anything else, your Uber arrives and you check the plates before getting in the backseat and shutting the door, effectively blocking him out.

What he would have said if your Uber hadn’t pulled up, though, is something that Harry decides you’ll never get to know. Because just when he was about to say, “I’d want you to be more than temporary,” you found a way to break his heart yet again.

*

The Uber driver has continuously given you looks since you got into the car. His nose scrunched up the moment that you closed the door, and honestly, you can’t blame him. You smell like cheap beer and probably look like an absolute mess. He’s most likely just checking to make sure that you don’t look like you’re about to throw up all over his backseat. 

You roll your eyes, trying your best to ignore him. It’s not even your fault that you’re like this right now, it’s Harry’s.

Harry, who you absolutely despise with every bit of your being. He’s been an arrogant, selfish dick since the very day that you met. He only cares about things when they include them,  constantly dropping comments about his success, and always finding a way to insert himself into any and every situation. You can’t seem to get away from him. He seems to be around no matter what you try (at first, you thought it was a coincidence, but now you’re convinced that he just does it to get on your nerves).

Harry, who’s so fucking annoying and unbearable but also so hot that he makes your mouth all but water. He can draw a reaction from you without even trying. Harry, who you’re so fucking attracted to despite hating him, and that fact makes you hate him even more.

It shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t be attracted to someone that makes your blood boil. 

I’m just drunk, you repeat to yourself as you push the thought of Harry as far out of your mind as you possibly can.

*

You groan as you walk out of the kitchen. 

“Y/N you know I’m right!” Sarah yells after you. “Stop trying to avoid it.”

Plopping down on Sarah’s black faux leather couch, you roll your eyes even though she can’t see it. “You’re delusional, Sarah!”

She doesn’t say anything until she comes into the living room and sits on the couch next to you. She has a bowl of chips in her hands. When you go to grab one, she pulls the bowl from your reach. 

“Admit it, you and Harry would be absolutely great together.” You could scream. She’s so adamant about the idea, but there’s no way that she could be right.

“Dude, we hate each other. What do you mean? What do you expect from us in a relationship if we can’t even be in the same room together for more than a few minutes without arguing.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair.

“I know, I know! But Y/N, come on. The two of you are so compatible.” You laugh at her words. How could she possibly think that when she sees the way the two of you interact.

“How so?” you ask, just to entertain her theory and let her get her thoughts out.

“Okay, hear me out. You both like music, right? He sings, you write songs. That’s literally perfect right there, even if you were just friends.” You nod, not saying anything. “You’re always talking about how you want to do hair and nails and stuff for your friends and I know that he’d let you paint his nails and play with his hair.” You had in fact been telling her these things, but you weren’t aware that she would choose to use them to try and set you up with Harry. “You’re both really funny and smart. You guys talk about a lot of the same things, too. It’s just never when you’re around each other.”

“Alright, yeah, that makes some sense.” She perks up slightly but you hold a finger up, motioning for her to wait a moment before getting her hopes up. “It makes sense, but you’re forgetting a few things. I couldn’t write songs for, or even with, Harry. He’d find something wrong with him just like he does now. He’d nitpick them until there was nothing that I could find about the song that he didn’t hate.” You sigh, thinking back to what she had just said. “We’d have to be too close to each other for me to mess around with his hair or nails and you know that every time we get within a few feet of each other, there’s some kind of fight that always gets started,” you trail off, giving her a chance to speak.

“Are you going to give me a reason why the last example of why you’re perfect for each other is incorrect?” She groans when you nod.

“Yeah, actually. We may like the same things and be funny and smart or whatever, but there’s no way that we’d be able to talk to each other.” 

“Why?” 

“His communication issues.” She throws her head back and obnoxiously groans.

“He doesn’t have communication issues.”

You burst out laughing. “He’s an Aquarius. Of course he does, right on top of those commitment issues.”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Whatever, Y/N. One of these days you’re going to understand that the two of you are quite literally a match made in Heaven.”

“Not likely,” you mumble before reaching for the remote and finding a movie to put on.

*

“Wait, what?” Mitch is looking at Harry like he’s grown a second head.

“You guys were right. Always have been, really, I just couldn’t say it before now.” Harry gulps, waiting for the ‘I told you so.’ It doesn’t come, though.

“Fuck, dude, I’m so sorry.” Harry shrugs it off.

“Not letting it get to me anymore. I’m tired of letting her break my heart.” He curses himself when tears begin to line his eyes.

“If I had known you really felt that way I would have backed off.” Harry nods at his words. “Sarah would’ve too.”

“It’s fine, Mitch, really. I just, I’m just tired, you know? It’s like there’s a magnetic force pulling me to her but every time I try to get close she shows me, yet again, that she can’t stand me.” He’s never been ashamed to show his feelings, and right now isn’t when he’s going to start. He lets his tears fall down his face as he leans back against the chair he’s sitting in.

“I really didn’t know, H. Normally I can tell when you like someone but it wasn’t like that this time.” Harry nods at him.

“You get pretty good at hiding your feelings when you’re hiding heartbreak after heartbreak.” He’s silent for a moment. “Should I cut off my hair?”

“If you want. But don’t do it just because you’re sad or you’ll regret it.” Harry closes his eyes as he debates the decision. A part of him wants to do it anyway, make the sadness go away for a moment as the exhilaration of a new haircut sinks in, but the rational part of him knows that Mitch is right.

As he sits there with tear stained cheeks, new droplets wetting his face every few seconds, he really wishes that he could hate you. He wishes that he could find anything to hate about you. But when he searches his brain for a reason to dislike you, he comes up empty. It’s frustrating, really. You seem to hate everything about him while he can’t hate a single thing when it comes to you.

He hears Mitch get up, presumably to go get something to eat, but he doesn’t open his eyes. There are a million memories with you flashing through his mind and it hurts him even more to know that every single one of them have been bad.

*

“What do you mean you can’t do it?” Your voice is high pitched, some would even say a little whiny. “Sarah, you promised me that you’d sing the song for me.”

“I know, Y/N. But something urgent came up with Mitch’s family and I have to be there.” Even over the phone, you can hear how worried that she is, so you can’t really bring yourself to be upset with her.

“It’s fine, Sarah. Really, I understand.” You hear her sigh of relief and a small smile graces your face, glad that she now has one less thing to worry about. “I’ll just find someone else to do it.”

“Ask Harry.” She suggests.

“Why would I do that?” The way your mood changed was immediate and it’s almost sad, how fast he gets you worked up.

“Because, Y/N, this project is due in like two days and he’s available.” She says in her duh voice. “Plus, he can sing really well, so just ask him. The worst thing he can say is no.”

“That’s a lie. The worst thing he can say is yes.” Sarah laughs before wishing you good luck and hanging up.

You groan, thinking about what Sarah said. She’s right, honestly. There’s nobody else that you’re going to find on such short notice, especially not one that can sing as good as Harry can. Admitting to yourself that you need him (which is something you never thought you’d say), you pick up your phone and click on his contact.

“Y/N?” His voice sounds deeper than usual, a little raspier, too. Almost like he just got out of bed. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t have an effect on you, the way your name sounds coming out of his mouth when he sounds like that.

“I need your help.” You grimace at the words.

“Alright. What do you need.” Your mind races, trying to figure out why he didn’t have a sarcastic comment or a snarky remark to throw at you. You ignore it for now, though.

“I need you to sing a song that I wrote for a project.” He hums, and you can picture him pulling his bottom lip between his fingers and then running his hand through his curls.

“Okay, when do you need me?” 

“Does tomorrow work? Around noon?” You hold your breath as you hope for the best.

“Yeah, I’ll be at your place then.”

You thank him and hang up, letting your phone fall from your hand down onto the couch. Harry Styles, the man that you swear you hate, is coming to your house tomorrow. 

*

When he arrives the next day, you almost immediately hand him the song and let him read over it, not necessarily wanting to spend any more time with him than needed. When he says he has a few suggestions, you’re terrified that he’s going to tell you how awful he is, but he actually only has a few suggestions to help with the flow of things. Besides that, he promises that it’s a really good song. 

You go to grab your camera and set it up while he strums on the guitar that he brought. Once you’re ready to begin filming, he sets the paper with the lyrics on it to the side and nods.

He begins singing after the camera has started recording and you get entranced by him almost immediately. His eyes close as soon as the first word leaves him mouth and with them shut you feel much more comfortable while looking at him. His hair is flowing all around him and you have the intense urge to tuck the strands behind his ears. There’s a small crease between his brows, that of which she wants to smooth out with a kiss to his forehead. He seems so concentrated, and something about it pulls at her heartstrings.

You shake your head. He’s your enemy, remember? you think to yourself as you divert your eyes to somewhere else in the room. 

After you’ve looked away you find yourself wondering why. Why do you hate Harry so much, really? Yeah he can be arrogant and cocky and rude but who isn’t? Yeah he talks about his famous life and his awards and chart placements a lot, but you would do the same in his shoes.

Plus, he really is pretty funny now that you stop to really think about it. He’s all the things that Sarah had told you over the past few months, and you can’t believe that you didn’t realize until now. You don’t hate Harry, you’ve been convincing yourself that you do to hide the way that you really feel about him.

You’re broken from your thoughts when he clears his throat. Once you turn to him, there’s a smirk on his face. “Could feel you watching me, love.”

Your cheeks burn at the statement. Regardless of the truth in it, you’re still not very keen on admitting that you were ogling him only minutes prior. 

“It’s alright, I find myself looking at you sometimes, too.” You don’t say anything to that, and the room falls quiet. 

With that stupid smirk, that’s way too hot for it to natural and fair, he picks up his keys and his coat and walks to your front door. “See you later, sweetheart.”

You raise your hand in a pathetic half wave goodbye and try your best to smile. As he opens the door, cold air sweeps through the room and you can see the snowflakes falling outside. “Great, there’s a storm.” He groans, but still continues to walk out the door.

“Harry, wait!” He stops, turning to face you. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Um… leaving?” He gestures towards his car that’s most likely covered in snow by now.

“Not in this weather you’re not.” Your voice grows hard as you glare at him. You know that he’d most likely rather not be around you, but there’s not a chance in hell that you’re going to allow him to risk his life by driving home.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t put up a fight, he just shuts the door and shrugs his coat back off. He hesitantly comes back over to take a seat on the couch. You stay silent, struggling to find the words to say.

“So, um, do you want to watch something?” He asks after a few minutes of nearly unbearable silence.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching Lucifer on Netflix, but if you don’t want to watch that, we can watch a movie or something.” You offer, looking over at him.

“Yeah, we can watch that.” You grab the remote from the table and walk over to sit next to him on the couch. 

Pulling up Netflix and starting Lucifer, you let your eyes wander to Harry for a split second before noticing that he’s already looking at you. You immediately divert your gaze. Your cheeks begin to heat up, but you try your best to ignore it.

*

After watching almost an entire season of Lucifer, you’re just about ready to go to bed. You’ve gotten increasingly more comfortable beside Harry and you’ve even started to lean into him slightly. Not a single part of your body is touching yours, but you can tell that you’ve gotten closer.

You’re about to get up and brush your teeth when the lights go out. You groan, throwing your head back against the back of the couch. “Great, power’s out.”

He doesn’t say anything, just hums in response. 

“Stay where you are. I know where the candles and the flashlight is, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself trying to get around.” You stand up, feeling your way through the living room towards the kitchen. Opening the cabinet closest to the wall, you pull out the three candles and the flashlight. Fuck, you forgot that there are only two candles. That’s not enough for there to be one in the hallway on the table, in the bathroom, and in the living room for Harry. And fuck, your extra blankets are in the washer.

You shake your head, lighting the candles and walking to the bathroom to place one down, and then through to the hallway to do the same. Making your way back to the kitchen, you pick up the flashlight and switch it on.

Once you reach the living room again, you clear your throat. “Okay, bad news. There were only two candles, and they need to be in the hallway and the bathroom.” You cough awkwardly. “Also, my extra blankets are dirty and I don’t want you to lay out here in the dark and freeze to death so,” your voice gets quieter, “do you maybe wanna come lay with me?”

He chokes on his spit and then clears his throat. “Um, yeah, yeah, sure. If that’s okay with you, of course. Remember, I can always go home.” You shake your head as his words.

“Nonsense, come on.”

Once the two of you are in your room, you climb into your bed and wait for Harry to do the same. Neither of you say a word as you get comfortable as you try to get to sleep. Without the heater working and there only being one blanket, though, it’s a little hard to stay warm and comfortable. “Um, Harry, I- can I- you- can we maybe… fuck I don’t know.”

You feel him turn towards you. “Are you cold, love?”

“Yeah.”

He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you closer to him, letting you lay your head on his chest and wrap yourself up in his embrace. His arms come to wrap around you and one hand finds its way to your hair as the other rests on your hip.

As you bask in his warmth, you try your best to not let yourself think about the way that you feel so perfectly comfortable in his arms. About how he smells so divine and he’s so warm that you’d be content with never leaving his embrace. About how, without even realizing it, you’ve been letting yourself believe that you hate Harry when really you’re in love with him. However, you’ll never tell him that. Not a chance. If there’s one thing that you absolutely will not do, it’s let Harry Styles break your heart.

*

When you open your eyes the next morning, you’re still in Harry’s arms. He isn’t awake yet, so you let yourself appreciate the way that his hair is tickling your face and the way that his arms are holding you tightly to his body. You let yourself enjoy the way that he’s got ahold of you like he can’t bear to lose you. 

You know that when he opens his eyes, everything is going to go back to normal. You’ll have to hate him again and he’ll pretend that none of this ever happened. That thought shouldn’t hurt you as much as it does.

You’re broken out of your thoughts by his voice. “Mornin’, love. Did you sleep well?”

You nod, all but entranced in the way that his voice is so much raspier when he first wakes up. “Sorry for being all over you, it was cold last night.” 

You go to move away from him, but he keeps you hugged to him. “Don’t apologize, like having you here, dove.” The words confuse you, but you don’t question them. Instead, you let yourself relax back into him.

Everything is silent for a few minutes, but the air is comfortable this time. “Do you wanna go get some coffee if the roads aren’t bad?” Harry whispers.

“Yeah, sure.”

The two of you climb out of bed and get ready for the day. You let him use an extra toothbrush and once you brush through your hair, you hand the tool to him. He gives a small “thanks” and gets to work on taming his hair as you walk out of the bathroom.

A few minutes later, he’s walking towards the living room with his keys and then he’s leading you out the door to his car.

The ride to the coffee shop is silent besides the hum of the radio, neither of you really knowing what to say.

Once the two of you slide into a booth at the little diner that he drove you to, you order a coffee and something as he does the same.

“So, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I don’t really know much about you.”

You hesitate for a moment, trying to figure out what to tell him.

“I write. My job is to write articles for this company. But I’m still in school technically, so I’m taking online classes to finish getting my degree. I like songwriting. Um, I think that’s about it.” Your cheeks heat up as you tell him about yourself, although none of the things that you’re listing are embarrassing.

“Why haven’t you ever talked about your songwriting before?” He ponders, placing his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand.

“Um, you hate me. Or.. hated me? I don’t know. I don’t want you to tear it apart just because you’re some hotshot writer. Or because you hate me.”

He pulls back, looking down. “Never hated you.”

“What?” You had to have heard that wrong.

“Ever stop to think why I was only rude when you got rude first?”

Your jaw drops as you think it over. “No, um, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, well. I never hated you.”

“So, you’re telling me that I hated you and you just… never hated me?” He grimaces.

“Yeah.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He offers you a soft smile. “It’s fine.”

Throughout the next few hours, you sit there with Harry and talk about any and everything that comes to your mind. He pays for the bill, although you insist on letting you help. As you’re walking out to his car and he’s about to drive you home, he stops. “Um, hey would you maybe want to hang out some more?”

The question takes you by surprise, but you agree nonetheless. “Yeah, I actually would really like that.”

He nods, climbing into the car as you smile to yourself.

*

It’s been six months since you made Harry stay over at your house because of that pesky snowstorm, and you’ve never been more thankful for the weather.

You’ve spent the majority of your time together, going out to eat when possible and staying over at your house most nights. His is too big, as you’ve always said, so for the simple sleepovers, you insisted that he came over to yours. You’ve grown closer and closer to him, and now you can confidently say that he’s your best friend.

Along with the growing friendship, your feelings have gotten deeper. There’s not a single part of you can deny that you’re absolutely, head over heels in love with Harry. And you don’t want to anymore. You still don’t want to tell him, but you’re no longer lying to yourself in the slightest.

Today is the only day thus far that you’ve even slightly regretted how close that you’ve become with Harry. And that’s because you’re currently standing at the airport, head buried into his chest as you try to find a way to say goodbye for the next six months. 

“Don’t want you to go.” You whine as you hold him as close as you possibly can.

He murmurs a “fuck it” before pulling away from you.

“Come with me.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “I know, it sounds crazy. Absolutely ridiculous. But listen, we’ll go home, back to your place and we’ll pack your bags and then we’ll go. I’ll reschedule my flight. I- I can’t do this without you, Y/N.” He reaches up and runs a hand through his curls (which you’d begged him to let you braid, but he said it was easier to have it down for flights). “Listen, you’re my rock. I- I feel like I can breathe when you’re around me. Fuck, Y/N, I’m in love with you.” 

You freeze, completely shocked by the words that fell from his mouth.

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. That was stupid. Forget I ever said anything.” He’s rambling because he thinks there’s no way that you can feel the same but you do.

“I’m in love with you, H. Have been for a long time.” Before he can respond, you surge forward and grab his face in your hands. Bringing his face closer, you slot your lips with his and allow the kiss to envelop you. After a few moments, you pull back. “Let’s go home and get my bags packed.”

*

[giuliamarcovaldo]

You’re Okay, Luca

i wanted to read autistic!luca fics but i couldn’t find any. so what did i do? i wrote my own. this is my first time posting fanfic here! so enjoy this little autistic!luca story (with some luberto fluff and angst)

TW: mentions of violent stimming + meltdown

“I was about to have a meltdown and there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

Summary: Luca gets over stimulated at a fancy dinner party, and Alberto witnesses Luca having a meltdown for the first time.

I want to say they’re 16-17 in this??

100% sfw because they are children

word count: 1580

also please don’t kill me if the Italian words are wrong i used google translate sksjsjaksk

(also note: i am autistic)

——————

Alberto knew I was autistic. I told him about a year ago, when we first became a thing.

“This doesn’t change anything, Luca. There’s nothing in this world that could make me stop loving you.” His words rang through my head as I felt the onset of a meltdown.

Giulia had invited Alberto and me to a gathering with some of her extended family in Genoa. They were all very nice, and Alberto even made friends with some of them (which was no surprise). That wasn’t the cause of my meltdown. It was the atmosphere. It was a bright, loud fancy dining hall, nearly at full capacity. I was wearing a suit and tie that Giulia’s cousin had let me borrow. The collar was scratching my skin in the worst possible way but I didn’t want to be rude so I sucked it up. That was my first mistake. Between the bright lights, loud conversations and music, jam-packed room, a plethora of smells from foods that I had never heard of, and the suit collar, I could feel it coming.

It was sensory overload at first. I tried stimming subtly. I wasn’t out as autistic to everyone yet and the thought of them judging me for stimming made my anxiety worse. But I had to do something. Squeezing my hands into fists under the table. Chewing the inside of my cheek. Running my fingers through my hair repeatedly. It wasn’t enough, but somehow too much at the same time.

I was getting more and more fidgety. It was becoming harder to mask. Would it be rude to just get up and leave without saying anything? Probably. I couldn’t move anyway. I was frozen in my seat. My facial expressions were almost completely gone at this point, along with my ability to speak. Alberto noticed that something was wrong.

“Luca, hey, are you alright?” I couldn’t get the words “no, I feel like I’m about to explode into a violently stimming disaster if I don’t get out of here right now but I can’t move and I feel helpless” out of my mouth so I just nodded and gave him a small, unconvincing smile. I didn’t want to burden Alberto while he was having such a good time. I knew it was ridiculous to think that Alberto would mind helping me calm down, but my brain wouldn’t quit telling me otherwise.

Silenzio, Bruno. Silenzio, Bruno. Silenzio, Bruno. It wasn’t working.

Alberto didn’t look convinced. He knew me too well. Ever since I told him I was autistic he tried his best to make sure I was as comfortable as possible in every situation. I loved him for that but I hated myself for it. It’s like I always need to be babysat and I hate it. I know that he loves me so why do I feel so guilty?

My intrusive thoughts running through my mind was the final straw. It was all too much. Alberto’s face looked more concerned as each moment passed. He was about to witness me having a meltdown for the first time since we met. I didn’t know if I was ready for that type of vulnerability but I didn’t really have a choice. I was about to have a meltdown and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

“Luca, we’re going to go some place quiet, okay?”

I shook my head no. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t speak. It had gone from sensory overload, to shutdown, to a full-blown meltdown. I couldn’t hold back my stims anymore. I started hitting my head with my fists and pulling at my hair. Tears rolled down my face uncontrollably, exposing my green-blue scales.

Perfecto.

I didn’t know which was worse: violently and uncontrollably stimming in front of everyone, or unintentionally outing myself as a sea monster. They might have been tied. Most of the guests were too into their conversations to notice the autistic sea monster having a meltdown next to them but the few who did notice started to pass glances and whisper amongst themselves.

“Luca, Luca, you’re okay. I know you don’t like anyone touching you when you’re in sensory overload but I’m going to help you get out of here, okay?”

Alberto helped me get up from the table and escorted me out of the dining room, using his suit jacket to cover my face so no one would see my scales, but being careful to not let it touch my face. We made our way to a long hallway off of the lobby. Alberto sat me down on the ground and flipped the hallway light switch off. Light from the lobby trailed into the hallway but didn’t reach us at the end.

I was out of the environment but still at the height of my meltdown. Tears were still coming from my eyes. I continued to tug at my hair while I rocked back and forth. I couldn’t vocalize anything except for non verbal sounds. I felt so helpless, so defeated, so ashamed.

Alberto tried to redirect my violent stims, to no avail. I’m sure he felt helpless too. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. And I felt bad that Alberto couldn’t help that.

Alberto sat a few feet away from me, probably resisting the urge to pull me into a hug.

“I’ll just sit with you, okay? You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Alberto reassured me that he wasn’t leaving. My perception of time isn’t that great but it felt like at least 45 minutes before I started to come down. Still there, like he said he would be, Alberto let out a deep shaky breath. I hadn’t looked at him the entire time because I was too embarrassed that he had to see all of that. When I finally did glance up at him, I notice two trails of purple scales down his cheeks. Knowing he had cried hurt me even more.

“Are you feeling better?” I was still nonverbal and rocking back and forth but my violent stims had passed. I opened my left hand flat and tapped it with my right index finger.

“Oh! Right,” Alberto pulled a pen and pad from my jacket, which he had helped me remove from my body earlier in my meltdown. He slid them across the floor and anxiously waited for me to write my response.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

Alberto’s face changed as he read what I had written. His green eyes looked sadder when they met my gaze. I could feel my tears starting to well up again.

“No, no, Luca, mio amore, please don’t feel bad. I should have checked on you earlier than I did. I got a little lost with everything going on in there. I’m sorry that I didn’t check up on you sooner...” Alberto was very protective of me. I know that the thought of me suffering while he didn’t know was absolutely crushing him. But it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t mine. It wasn’t anybody’s. I was starting to think rationally again. I shouldn’t feel sorry for having meltdowns, for being autistic, for being myself. But I should have spoken up when I started to feel uncomfortable. That’s something I need to work on, and I know I can do it as long as Alberto is with me. And he always will be.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” I know Alberto was dying to physically comfort me. It was his love language. I nodded my head yes and gave him a warm smile. He crawled over to me and I opened my arms to embrace him. I listened to his steadying heartbeat while he whispered affirmations to me and gently rubbed my back. Warm tears started to fall down my face.

God, I love this boy so much.

“Bontà, there you two are! I’ve been looking everywhere! What happ-“ Giulia’s voice got closer as she made her way down the hallway.

“Oh no, Luca... mi dispiace... I didn’t know you were- when did- where-“ She crouches down next to the two of us. Giulia, also being autistic, could tell I was in post-meltdown. She slaps her palm to her forehead and curses herself.

“Of course! I should have been more aware about- why didn’t I- are you okay?”

“Giulia,” Alberto places his hand on her shoulder. “he’s alright. Nothing that happened is your fault. Or... mine for that matter. We’re alright.”

“Can I get you guys something? A glass of water?”

I nod my head yes.

“Water sounds good, grazie, little sis.” Alberto and Giulia exchange smiles, then she leaves down the hallway, her red curls bouncing behind her.

“Luca,” Alberto cups my cheek in his hand, wiping away my tears with his thumb.

“I love you, okay? I love you so, so much. Nothing is going to change that. Please, don’t ever feel like an inconvenience. It hurts to see you like that, and I know it hurts to experience it. Please, tell me next time, Okay?”

I didn’t even need to tell him that I felt like an inconvenience. He just knew. Like I said, he knows me too well. I nod my head, and pull him back into an embrace. Alberto combs his fingers through my hair, getting rid of the tangles that I made in it earlier.

I feel lighter. I feel safe to be myself. I feel more loved than ever.

——————

that’s it! my first fic! a lot of this is me projecting onto luca (sksakdjsjjsk) but i had a lot of fun writing it! feel free to leave comments and/or constructive criticism. likes and reblogs appreciated!! :)

[thefanficmonster]

Few Too Many

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing, In-game violence and death, Suggestive comments

Genre: Protective fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Jealousy is a dangerous thing, especially when the jealous person is armed with a gun....in a game of Counter Strike. At least Y/N’s friend will now know not to mess around and flirt with her, especially not with Corpse around.

Requested by 🐐 Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! Sorry it’s taken me so long to complete and post your request but here it finally is! I didn’t want to make it IRL violence to avoid triggering anyone while I also felt it’d be very ooc for Corpse to beat someone up but I still hope you enjoy the fic if you come across it and read it! Love, Vy ❤

“Hey everyone!“ Y/N greets her squad as they all customize their characters while I sit there, observing and unknowing of what I’m supposed to do. “I invited Corpse to play with us today, hope y’all don’t mind.”

“Of course not! Nice to finally meet you, Corpse. We’ve heard a ton about you from Y/N, thanks for making our girl the happiest she’s ever been.“ One of her friends says, the tone of his voice suggesting he’s only half-joking with the dad like comment he made.

“Nice to meet you too, man. Glad I’m the one she gave the chance of making her happy. That’s all I ever wanna do.“ Though it may sound cheesy, as guys, her friends can probably read into how genuinely I mean what I’ve said.

Dating a girl with only guy friends has it’s pros and cons. Which outweigh which is still up for debate since I’m still researching, but so far so good in my opinion. This is the first time I’m interacting with them directly so I’ve still got a long way to go in terms of getting to know them and the details of their relationship with Y/N better. Regardless, I at least know they can easily understand me and put themselves in my shoes if I ever ‘mess things up’ with Y/N and she goes to complain to them - something that will most likely never happen. I’d never dare make this girl upset. Chances are, if I do, her friends won’t get to me on time - I would deliver my own punishment just the way I think I deserve it. However, there’s also the chance of them getting super protective of her and ganging up on me over something as small as a fight. By the many things and stories Y/N’s shared with me about them, I believe they wouldn’t think twice about kicking someone’s ass for her. They’re not massive dudes - I’ve seen pictures of them - but I for one don’t ever wanna see em angry.

“Ay bro, what’d you do to score our best girl? You must know what she likes. If so please, by all means, do tell.“ One of them, not the one who was previously talking, speaks up, his words making me furrow my brows in both confusion and irritation.

I open my mouth to complain as I slowly start cracking my knuckles when Y/N and her friends beat me to it. Thing is, Y/N’s friend group consists of three guys and her and yet four voices scolded the guy that made that suggestive comment. That being said, this guy probably isn’t considered to be one of her friends, at least not one that’s a permanent part of her friend group.

“Seth, cut it out!“ The guy I was previously speaking to says sharply before softening his tone to refer to me, “Sorry about my brother, excuse his lack of brain cells, please.“

Just then, I also receive a message from someone. Checking my phone, turns out it’s Y/N who by the way is currently in the living room while I’m in the recording room. Her text reads:

Y/N ~ Ignore Seth. I told Leo to not invite him but he’s still here somehow

I send her back a quick reassuring text before answering the guy I now know is named Leo, “No worries, it’s fine.”

“See? The guy can take a joke, you’re all just freaking out over nothing!“ Seth laughs, reminding me and the others of how loud he is compared to us.

Despite acting like it’s no big deal, I can’t help but admit to myself that this behavior of Seth’s has awoken a deeply buried suspicion of mine that’s not only mine but also arises in every guy whose girlfriend hangs out with a lot of guys. It’s not that I don’t trust Y/N - she could literally blindfold me and tell me to walk through a pool of lava, promising it wouldn’t hurt and I’d do it - but we all know about that saying that every guy in a group with one girl has liked said girl at least once.

Disturbing to think these four, including Seth five, dudes could’ve possibly been my competition at some point. It’s nice that they’re all super chill about it, mostly cause some of them have girlfriends as I was told.

Nevertheless, we get over that hiccup and carry on with the small talk and preparations for the game. Since it’s my first time playing CSGO, Y/N, Leo and her other friend Clancy explain the mechanics to me in detail to avoid me getting confused mid-game and getting myself killed. When they finish, we start the round and wait for the game’s algorithm to separate us into two teams which Y/N jokingly refers to as cops and robbers. Unfortunately, the end result of that separation ends up being me getting put in the terrorists’ force with Leo and Clancy while Y/N’s with the FBI, partnered with Seth and her other friend Evan.

“Alright, team, we shall now disperse. Corpse, remember, if you see more than one of them, radio in and lay low, we’ll be with you as soon as possible.“ Leo informs me as he runs off in one direction, Clancy going in the opposite. I confirm I understand and go along my way too, heading for this ancient looking structure that looks like it could belong in an old-timey movie. 

Walking in, I realize the place is way bigger than it appeared on the outside. A quick look up confirms that there are three fucking floors above, not to mention that the ground floor is huge. Luckily, there are many crates and barrels to hide behind if I come across an FBI agent. I sure as hell hope it’s Y/N, I could maybe even try talking her into giving me a second chance at life and pretend she never saw me. Come to think of it though, I’d probably prefer getting killed by her rather than her friends - especially Seth.

Given that we’re in a Discord call, I can hear all the conversation going on. They are all quiet though, I can just periodically hear the mumbles of someone muttering to themselves as they navigate the map cautiously out of fear of running into their opponent unprepared. The silence is put to an end though when Seth speaks up, addressing Y/N.

“Yo, your boyfriend’s with the terrorists, ain’t he? That’s like the universe giving you a sign that y’all shouldn’t be together.“ The fucker laughs at his own joke while I can literally hear Y/N rolling her eyes.

“Have you heard of Romeo and Juliet, Seth?“ She asks sarcastically, almost getting a chuckle out of me but I suppress it to avoid getting caught listening in.

“Yeah, they both die at the end. Fucking boooriiinngg.“ Just then, I spot two silhouettes entering the building. Aiming my gun at them reveals their names - just the people I’m currently involuntarily eavesdropping on. Seth and Y/N don’t notice me though so I quickly duck behind a crate and prepare to radio in when Seth continues verbally torturing Y/N and dancing on my last nerves, “I personally think the friends-to-lovers trope is far more interesting...“

Did this guy just- no, he’s gotta be fucking kidding me

I’m left with my jaw hanging in disbelief at this guy’s audacity. I have no doubt Y/N’s about to put him in his place herself but I just gotta have my own chat with this guy. And by ‘chat’ I mean I mindlessly rush out from behind the crate towards where I saw him and Y/N and open fire on him.  I hear his startled and upset screams with Y/N’s laughter in the background. She doesn’t try to stop me as a teammate of his should and would, instead she just observes the scene unfold, laughing her ass off.

“Yo man what the fuck was that for?!“ I hear Seth’s yell but only faintly since the sound of gunshots is still echoing through my headphones. Yeah, I’m not done shooting this fucker.

“Corpse...Corpse, buddy...“ Y/N manages through fits of laughter she cannot tame, “That’s a few too many bullets, he’s already dead.”

“And that was a few too many comments for him to be let off the hook.” I answer as sharply as I can with the new-formed smile on my face. What can I say, her happiness is contagious.

“Well, you got your first kill in CSGO. Good job, babe! I’m super proud of you!” She cheers for me, clapping her hands excitedly. 

“Nah that was my first overkill.“ I quickly add, with a more threatening tone: “And it won’t be my last.”

“Let’s just hope there aren’t few too many of these overkills either.“ She snickers.

“That doesn’t depend on me, babe.“ I say smugly, suggestively enough for Seth to pick up the dropped hint. Mother fucker’s officially been put in his place and I couldn’t possibly be happier - with the added bonus of getting a ton of laughter out of Y/N who also decides to walk away, leaving me unharmed but promising to shoot to kill next time she sees me.

I’m ok with that. She could kill me anyday.

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[farfromharry]

Brightside | CEO!Dad!Tom fic

summary: a sudden and unexpected turn of events with your little boy, leaves him in the hospital with an unknown diagnosis. tom has to fly home and the two of you have to face each other, properly and civilly, for the first time since your breakup. will this negative experience turn into a positive one, in more ways than one?

word count - 10.3k

warnings - warnings - language, hospitals, needles, fainting, mentions of seizures, mentions of blood

a/n - angst for once, but obviously ending in fluff because i can’t hurt myself like that🥰 also i’m super nervous to post this so lets see how this goes :)

A loud, irritating noise filled the kitchen as your phone began to ring. You groaned, annoyed. The once calm silence was now filled with your curses of panic as you tried to wipe off your messy hands as quickly as possible. You found an unused cloth on your kitchen side and decided on just using that, wiping off the remnants of the food you’d been making. You grabbed your phone from off of the counter, pressing the green accept button, lifting the device up to your ear.

“Hello?” you asked. Having not bothered to look at the contact name, you had absolutely no idea who you were even talking to right now.

“Hi, is this Miss Y/L/N?”

You mumbled a quick ‘yes.’ You wedged the phone between your ear and your shoulder, picking up the knife you’d been using a few minutes prior to continue cutting up the vegetable in front of you.

“This is about your son, Theo,” she said, “I work in the reception at the school.” You rolled your eyes, assuming that your angel of a four year old had somehow gotten into some trouble that you were now going to have to deal with.

The lady proceeded to explain to you quite the opposite of what you’d originally thought. She’d told you how Theo had thrown up in class, prompting him to be sent to the nurse where he then fainted, almost escalating to a seizure.

“What?” you asked. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach, a sick feeling beginning to bubble in your throat. The knife had carelessly slipped from your fingers, making a loud clattering noise as it hit the counter. You gave the woman your undivided attention, listening to every word she spoke to you. She confirmed again what you’d thought you’d heard, your heart starting to beat out of your chest.

“We’re taking him to the hospital just in case,” she said, “Can you meet us there?”

You were panicking, her words barely even registering in your head until she called your name again. You muttered a quick yes in response. Your hands were beginning to shake and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep hold of your phone.

“I’ll be right there.”

You looked around at the mess, scrolling through the contacts on your phone and calling your mother. She picked up quickly, happily greeting you on the other end of the line. You quickly explained to her the situation and asked nicely if she could clean up what you’d been doing while you’re gone.

She thankfully said yes, promising everything would be fine. You were in such a rush after that, that you didn’t take anything with you except your phone. You slipped your shoes on as quick as you could, grabbing your car keys out of the small wooden bowl on the side and rushing out of the front door.

It was a miracle that you somehow didn’t crash your car on the way to the hospital. There were tears welling up in your eyes and it was impossible to properly see clearly. Your hands were still shaking as they gripped the wheel with so much strength you were scared it could break. Your head was a mess and you could barely process which direction you were going, you knew you shouldn’t have been driving like this.

It was almost a daze when you thought about how you got from your home to the hospital, your brain couldn’t piece together being in the car.

As soon as you’d parker, you were rushing inside, probably looking insane to others as you frantically turned your head in any direction, trying to find where you could ask for help.

You were clearly distressed and people were beginning to notice, one of those people being the lady that had called you earlier.

“Miss Y/L/N.”

Your head whipped around to where the voice came from, spotting her standing a few metres away. You made your way over, seeing her motion to the room where you could see your little boy laying inside.

Your heart broke even more at the sight of him. There were wires connected to him, ones that you didn’t understand, and it scared you to the core.

You frowned, stroking your hand through his messy curls, trying to tame the wild hair as best you could. It was one of the many things he’d inherited from his dad.

“Do you have anyone else you can call?” she asked, politely, “I just don’t want to leave you here alone.”

You smiled at her in thanks, nodding your head and forcing yourself to move away from your baby boy.

“I should probably call his dad,” you stated.

You heard a quiet groan from your side, turning your body to see Theo’s eyes fluttering awake, his body shifting uncomfortably.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake,” you gushed. You kissed his head over and over, wrapping your arms around him tightly. You heard the boy whine about you almost suffocating him and letting out a relieved giggle, you loosened your grip.

You still held him to your chest, just long enough to calm your racing heart.

“I’ll leave you both,” she spoke, reminding you she was still in the room.

You nodded your head, flashing her a genuinely thankful smile.

“Thank you for helping him,” you whispered. You gave her a friendly hug, telling your son to wave goodbye before she left. You sighed deeply, taking a moment to let everything sink in to not overwhelm yourself.

You heard the four year old calling for you, prompting you to turn around to see what he needed.

“What’s wrong, pumpkin?” He jutted his bottom lip out, looked absolutely adorable as he started up at you with those soft, honey, brown eyes.

“I’m bored,” he whined. You pouted for him, eyes scanning around the small room for anything he could possibly amuse himself with.

“Do you want me to go ask for a colouring book or something?” you asked him. He rapidly nodded his head, a smile breaking out on your face for the first time within the hour, since the school had called you.

“Alright, I’ll be back in a second.”

Before you walked out of the door, you turned back to him and pointed your finger at him accusingly. “Don’t get into any trouble, mister,” you warned, a hint of playfulness in your tone. He giggled loudly, making your heart melt at the adorable sound.

“I promise.”

Being on a children's ward meant that the front desk always had things like these at hand. The ladies were more than happy to give you one of the books they had left, not having many options to choose from though.

They handed you some crayons and other colouring items. You thanked them profusely, knowing that you now wouldn’t have to deal with a cranky little Holland boy, because you knew how they could get.

You made your way back to the room quickly, having your doubts about leaving the toddler alone in an unknown place for any longer than necessary.

“Here you go, little man.”

You handed him the book with the wide variety of colouring items. You had to explain to him that the only books they had left were animals and flowers and you thought the animal ones looked much more fun.

“I’m expecting to see a rainbow frog,” you told him. He giggled, shaking his head.

“You can’t have a rainbow frog, mummy.” You gasped, furrowing your eyebrows teasingly.

“Why not, mister?” you asked. You saw him huff, trying to hide your giggle.

“They’re not real,” he said, like it was just so obvious.

This time you couldn’t hide your giggle as you watched his tiny brows furrow in annoyance at you. You leaned forward and placed a kiss to the tiny crease in the middle of his eyebrows. Once again something he got from his dad when he pulled the same face.

“I was just teasing bub.” He rolled his eyes at you, making you gasp and poke his belly teasingly. He giggled loudly, the noise echoing around the room as he tried to get you to stop tickling him.

You had considerably calmed down from when you arrived at the hospital to now, feeling your heart beating at a much slower pace, one that was at least calm.

“Will you colour with me?” he asked.

Originally, you were going to take this time to call Tom, but seeing the boy’s puppy dog eyes, you absolutely couldn’t resist.

You stayed and coloured in the animals with him for a while, just enjoying bonding with your bub.

You’d help him stay in the lines of the drawing, helping him out where he needed helping, while also working on your own animal, surprisingly enjoying yourself.

Noticing the time on the clock, you made the decision that you had to call Tom, it had already been long enough, it couldn’t wait any longer.

“I’m just going to go call daddy, okay?” He nodded his head, content with going back to his colouring book. You sighed, leaving the room and finding a quiet space in the corridor.

You pulled up Tom’s contact on your phone, one you’d contemplated deleting probably a hundred times, hovering over the call button hesitantly.

As soon as it started ringing your heart ached, you weren’t even sure if he’d pick up, possibly too busy with work once again.

You gasped when you heard the phone connect, almost shocked that he’d take the time to answer you.

“Hi, Tom, um-“ He cut you off before you could even finish, something that irritated you beyond belief.

“Look Y/N, now’s really not a good time, can this wait?” he asked, telling someone on the other side of the phone that he’d be two minutes.

“Tom, I had to take Theo to the hospital,” you cried, finally letting out the sob you’d been holding in all day. You didn’t mean to cry or guilt him, it was just bad timing. You’d been trying to be strong for your little boy, knowing he was already scared out of his mind, he didn’t need to know his mum was scared too.

“Woah, hey, calm down, breathe Y/N.” You listened to his smooth voice, taking deep breaths until you were able to talk again.

“What do you mean you had to take him to the hospital,” he said, “What happened?”

A sense of overwhelming panic beginning to overtake his entire body. He was across the ocean, there was nothing he could do.

You explained everything that had happened up until now, Tom listening intently to every word.

“Shit, do they know what’s wrong?” he asked, nervously. You could hear the worry in his voice.

“No, we’re waiting for them to come and do some tests,” you said, glancing back at your boy through the window in his room. Just to check that he was okay.

“Is he okay right now?” he questioned. His brain was a mess, there were so many possibilities of things that could be wrong running through his head and he hoped to God that none of them were true.

“Yeah, I think so, he’s just colouring at the minute.”

Tom sighed. “Okay, well um-“ He tried to organize his thoughts, listening to you telling him to take a minute. “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said. You suddenly felt awful, knowing he was halfway across the world. The last thing you wanted was to guilt trip him into dropping everything, especially if he didn’t want to. Your tears had come to a stand still, trying to explain to him that it was okay and you had this under control.

“You don’t have to, I know you’re busy and-“ He cut you off again.

“Nothing’s more important to me than him, I’ll be there, I promise.”

After going through the later years of your relationship, you knew not to trust Tom’s promises, and you also knew how stubborn he was. His promises were often broken and just ended up hurting people in the end, and you didn’t want that to be you all over again.

“Y/N, did you hear me?” he asked, after not receiving a response from you.

“Yeah, I heard you, I’ll see you soon,” you said. You said your goodbyes, hanging up the phone and heading back inside the hospital room to see your boy.

“Change of plans, cancel the meeting,” Tom demanded, taking his coat from behind his chair and throwing it on his body in a haste. The women and men sitting around the table stared at him in shock, gasping at how unprofessional the CEO seemed to be.

“Mr Holland, this meeting is important, we can’t just cancel,” she tried to reason. He waved her off, shaking his head and dialling another number on his phone, the one of his personal assistant.

“Harrison, hi, I need you to book me on the next flight to London, asap.”

She apologised to them on his behalf, but the woman refused to give up, following Tom out of the meeting room and all the way to the set of lifts at the end of the floor. Tom was rapidly pressing the button to call the lift, hoping it could come quicker than it was. He hung up the phone with Harrison after confirming all the details of the flight.

“London?” she gasped, “You can’t go to London, we’re in the middle of one of the biggest deals of your career Tom.”

Tom rolled his eyes, almost up to his limits with everything. He didn’t know what was going to cause him to break down first, the woman or the fact that the lift still wasn’t here. He knew it was silly to get so worked up over something so small, but his concern for his child was above anything else.

“I don’t care about the deal, Y/N just called, Theo’s in the hospital,” he said. She frowned, an apology already on the tip of her tongue. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“What do you want me to do?” she asked, referencing the meeting with the big investors that was due to happen any moment.

“Whatever you think is best, but please don’t tell them about Theo, I don’t want this getting out.” She nodded, heading back towards the office to explain what was happening with the meeting, unfortunately having to come up with something on the spot.

While Tom was being driven to the airport, you were trying to convince Theo to get in bed and go to sleep. It was late for him, almost eleven, and he’d had a very long day.

“Please, it’s already past your normal bedtime.” He pouted, making grabby hands at you.

“But this bed isn’t comfy and-“ You rolled your eyes, gently squeezing his cheeks together to get him to stop making excuses.

“Do you want me to sleep with you?” you asked, seeing him nod his head. You smiled softly, climbing under the covers and seeing what he meant when he said it was uncomfortable. You let him curl into you, resting his small head on your chest, his arms clinging to you.

“Mummy?” he whispered. You hummed, running your fingers through his curly hair, something that you usually did when he was scared, because it always calmed him down. He shifted in your arms, pushing himself up on the small bed so that he could lay his head next to yours on the soft pillow.

“Do you still love daddy?” he asked, looking up at you with his big brown eyes that perfectly resembled Toms. Your heart ached. In all honesty, you didn’t know what to say to the boy, because you didn’t know yourself. You thought it over in your head quietly.

On the one hand you hated how obsessed and committed he was to his work, but on the other, he was an amazing dad to Theo, and he always treated you like a princess. Your eyes flickered over your baby’s face, admiring all the parts of his features that he got from his daddy.

You realised in that moment, looking at those tiny features, the ones that resembled the ones you studied for hours on end once upon a time, you truly did hold a soft spot for Tom, even now. You sighed, stroking your boy’s cheek, ready to give him his answer.

“Of course I do.” you admitted. You saw the corner of his lips twitch up as he tried to bite back a smile.

“Then why don’t you live together,” he asked, “Everyone else at school’s parents live together.” You frowned, not having the heart to tell him about your break up properly, even after all this time. You simply pulled him closer to you, wrapping your arms around his tiny body and kissing the top of his head.

“We needed some time apart, to focus on what needed our attention,” you said, “We couldn’t do everything at once.”

You saw him staring up at you with his wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest even thinking about what happened with Tom. You weren’t quite sure Theo understood what you meant, because he still looked a little confused.

“So, your daddy had to focus on his company, making sure everything was going well and I had to focus on my little rugrat,” you said, poking his belly to tickle him. He giggled, trying to squirm away from your hands.

“Is it like-like in Captain America, when Steve has to leave Peggy to save the world.” You raised your eyebrows, thinking it over. You were a little bit shocked by his surprisingly good analogy.

“And then Peggy has to focus on Shield,” you added, “It’s exactly like that Theo.” He nodded his head, understanding where you were coming from.

You saw his big eyes begin to blink more, but also slower, a tell-tale sign that he was going to knock out any minute.

“Mummy?” he asked again. You smiled.

“Yes Theo?” you said, brushing his overgrown curls out of the way of his eyes.

“Are you more like Steve or Peggy?” he asked. You giggled, amused by the idea of him relating yours and Tom’s relationship to a fictional, superhero one.

“Well you see, I’m more like Steve, because I had to sacrifice everything for my world, just like he did.” You kissed his head when you said ‘my world,’ clearly referring to your boy.

“Wow,” he mumbled, letting his eyes finally flutter shut. “My mummy’s a superhero.”

Your eyes began to water happily, cradling his head to your chest as he finally fell asleep. You took deep breaths, trying to bite back the heart wrenching cry that was threatening to come out.

After a while of laying in the silence of the hospital room, you gave in and closed your eyes, letting your son’s rhythmic breaths ease you to sleep.

You were completely unaware that Tom had gotten the first flight out to London after he ended your phone call. You assumed he would have arrived in a few days time, at least, probably having left over business to finish up first.

[His heart] was racing the entire journey, feeling utterly useless from halfway across the world and he couldn’t stand it.

Harrison had tried to calm him down as he helped him pack for his flight on the private jet, telling him he needed to be positive about this. Tom had snapped at him, asking him how that was even possible while he wasn’t with his own child.

Tom felt bad but Harrison made it clear that he didn’t take it to heart, knowing he was stressed and there was nothing he could really do to help.

He offered to go with his boss, thinking it’d be better if he wasn’t doing this all alone, but Tom refused with minimal explanation. He knew you wouldn’t want a stranger lingering around the hospital room if anything went badly.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Tom?” he asked, standing on the runway at the entrance to the private jet, ready to go with him to England if he just so much as asked.

“I’m okay, really,” he promised, ascending the steps of the plane with his luggage.

The plane ride was gruelling. Tom didn’t know what to expect when he arrived, and he certainly didn’t know how it was going to go between the two of you while he was there. The flight was long and he tried to get as much sleep as he could, barely managing a couple hours with the worry bubbling in the pit of his stomach.

Everything seemed to be going so slowly, right from landing to getting through the airport.

It felt like he was waiting for a taxi for days, tapping his thumb on his arm anxiously, his eyes focused solely on the ground, trying to control the thoughts in his head.

The ride from the airport to the children’s hospital was agony for the young father. Tom’s leg was bouncing nervously, his hands shaking and his eyes glancing down at his watch or his phone every few seconds. He hadn’t gotten any updates from you recently, assuming you’d fallen asleep because of the time.

He knew that with it being this late he’d have to see you and Theo tomorrow morning. Before he left he didn’t really consider the time difference.

When the taxi stopped he was quick to toss the man the right amount of money, practically sprinting out of the car to grab his luggage.

It was as if he ran into the hospital, looking around frantically in search of the reception area, just like you had done hours prior. When he spotted it, it was like his feet were working before his brain. They led him to the woman before he even had time to process that he was moving.

“Hi, I’m here for Theodore Holland,” he announced. The woman at the front desk clearly didn’t notice the sense of urgency in Tom’s voice.

“Sir, I’m sorry, visiting hours are over,” she said, “They start again tomorrow at nine,” she explained calmly. Tom shook his head, running his hands through his hair for the hundredth time today. He was sure that by now it looked a complete mess, a contrast from his normally styled and gelled hair.

“I can’t wait, I have to see him,” he whined pitifully, “Please,” he begged.

She took pity on the young man, nodding her head and waving the rules in his time of need.

“And who are you?” she asked, typing the little boy’s name into the computer to search for his files, so slowly, like they had all the time in the world.

“I’m his dad,” he stated, looking around the hospital ward in a panic. She nodded, looking at the details for Theo on her computer.

“Can you just confirm his birthday?” she asked. Tom recited the little boy’s birthday to her with ease, the six digits being the password to his phone for the last four years and the day also being the best moment of his life.

“Alright, Mr Holland, you want to go right down that hall, turn left and then it’s the first door on your right, room 106,” she instructed. Tom thanked her, taking long, quick strides down the hallway, carrying his bag with his belongings in his hand.

After finding the plaque with the correct door number, he noticed the lights were off. He carefully opened the door and creeped in, closing it quietly behind him, to not disturb either of you. He noticed two figures on the bed instead of one, his heart melting at the sight of your four year old curled up into your chest like an infant again.

He let out a quiet sigh, placing his bag on the floor, taking a seat next to Theo’s side of the bed. He could now clearly see your face as you slept, still as beautiful as he remembered.

Yours and Tom’s breakup was messy. Breakups always are when there’s a child involved.

You simply hated how much Tom was working, barely ever home to see you both, leaving, what felt like, all the responsibility to you. You were both still young, only twenty-two at the time and you were struggling. One more missed dinner and crying baby finally tipped you over the edge, to where you couldn’t take it anymore.

When Tom finally came home that night you confronted him about it all. You didn’t mean to start a fight but that was evidently what happened anyway. You thought it could’ve been a civilised discussion that would be solved within the hour.

Tom left the house that night to go and stay with his brothers, hoping he could give you time to cool off and then everything would be back to normal when he next saw you.

However, what he didn’t expect, was for you to tell him you were really done, just like you’d said in the argument. He seemingly couldn’t choose between his job and his girlfriend and child, so, you chose for him.

He didn’t mean for it to happen. He didn’t realise how much he was focused on work instead of the people that mattered to him, and he pretty much lost everything within a night.

The next week, Tom was off doing more and more business deals to distract himself from his loss, his family claiming he was overworking himself. He never listened to them though, and that’s how he ended up in the states, far away from you and far away from his son.

From next to the bed Tom saw his baby begin to stir, shuffling over closer to his side of the bed and smiling down at the beautiful boy.

“Daddy?” he asked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes with his tiny fists.

“Hi precious.” Tom stroked his cheek softly. This was the first time he’d been able to see his son in months, and he’d almost forgotten how amazing it was to see him in person. Yes, he’d seen him on facetime frequently, but there was something much more heart-warming about seeing him in the flesh and being able to hold him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked rather loudly, Tom shushing him and pointing to you.

“We don’t want to wake mummy,” he said, seeing Theo nod his head. He extended his arms out for his dad, wanting him to pick him up. Tom carefully scooped him out of bed, trying his hardest not to wake you from your peaceful sleep.

Theo wrapped his arms around his dad’s neck in one of his hugs, giving Tom a chance to look over his shoulder and finally admire your sleeping figure. Just you this time, no toddler cuddled up to you obscuring part of his view.

He admired all the things he used to- well, still does love about you. The way your eyelashes rested just above your cheeks, the way your lips parted just making him want to constantly kiss you. The way the sun shining through the window perfectly illuminated your face, making you look like a perfect angel. He took a few steps closer, just enough to brush some hair out of your face that looked like it was bothering you. Even the simple touch had you nuzzling your cheek, subconsciously, into the warmth of his hand, having missed his touch, even if you’d refuse to admit it when you were awake.

“Daddy?” Theo whispered, taking his note of trying not to wake you up.

“What’s up, bug?” he asked, turning his head to look at him. He always felt it was like looking into a time machine. You were convinced right from the day he was born that he didn’t get any of your features, looking like a clone of Tom when he was a toddler. But Tom was always adamant that Theo got your personality and mannerisms.

“I’m hungry,” he pouted, resting his tired head on his shoulder.

“Let’s go find you something to eat,” he said, following the hospital signs that pointed in the direction of the café.

Tom, stupidly, didn’t think to leave you a note to tell you that he’d arrived, or that he’d just taken Theo for food.

You didn’t really remember falling asleep in the uncomfortable hospital bed, nor did you remember Tom pulling a blanket over you and Theo in the middle of the night, or Tom even arriving for that matter.

You opened your eyes, groaning quietly as you were pulled out of your sleep. You turned your head to see if your son was awake, which you had no doubts he would be, but you frowned when you noticed he was no longer even in the bed, the sheets now cold on his side.

You sat up, looking around the room to find you were completely alone, except there was now an unfamiliar bag sitting next to the door. Your motherly instincts kicked in and you began to panic not knowing the whereabouts of your baby.

You were about to call for a nurse, asking if she’d seen him when Tom walked through the door with your son perched on his hip, laughing loudly as he nibbled on a sandwich.

“Oh thank god,” you said, taking Theo from Tom’s arms into your own. You kissed his head, running your hands over his hair.

“I didn’t know where you were,” you whined, glancing up at Tom. Theo nuzzled closer to you, his silent way of telling you he was here.

“That was my fault, sorry, he was hungry so I-“ This time you were the one to cut Tom off before he could finish his sentence.

“It’s okay, just scared me s’all.” Theo tucked his head into your neck, his small hand still clinging on to his food. After a few minutes, your heart had calmed down, reminding you that he still hadn’t eaten.

“Okay, go and eat buddy.” You let him down, watching him scurry off back to his bed where he had a little table he could eat on. You watched him for a couple seconds, making sure he was okay before turning back around to face Tom.

“Hi.” He said, staring right at you, that oh so familiar face looking as perfect and handsome as he had the first time you met.

“Hi Tom,” you said back. There was a painfully awkward tension between you both, one that could’ve been cut with a knife. Neither of you really knew what to speak about, both of you trying to start a conversation at exactly the same time, something that only made it even more awkward.

“You go first,” he said, trying to be polite.

“When did you get here?” you asked. You noticed the bags under his eyes, feeling yourself start to worry about him, but part of you told you to stop.

“Just after four, they almost didn’t let me in,” he explained. You nodded your head, nervously fiddling with a loose thread on your shirt.

“Well, he seems pretty glad that you’re here Tom,” you said, flashing him a nervous smile.

“H-how do you feel?” he asked, “About me being here?” It was silent for a few minutes. Tom was nervous, immediately regretting even asking as soon as the question came out of his mouth.

“I’m happy you’re here too.” His eyes widened in shock, taken aback by that answer. He smiled, his heart beginning to beat slightly faster.

Neither of you said anything more as you entered Theo's room, choosing to make small conversation with the boy about anything and everything, rather than with each other.

At some point in the afternoon Theo had grown sleepy, crawling under the blanket to take a nap. It was now just you and Tom sitting in yet another awkward silence. You were sitting in the chair next to his bed, making sure you were there if he needed you for anything. Tom was sitting across from you in another chair, watching you interact with your son. He noticed you visibly shiver in your thin, short sleeved shirt, rubbing your arms to try and warm yourself up.

“Are you cold?” Tom asked, almost rhetorically as he pulled off his own jacket and wrapped the material around your shivering frame.

“Thank you, I-I was in such a rush when I left, that I guess I forgot.” He nodded, flashing you a tight lipped, awkward smile. The tension in the air was uncomfortable, neither of you really daring to speak up.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” he said, his eyes filled with regret. You tried to tell him it was fine, but you could feel your emotions rising in your throat, making it harder to keep them down.

He could see you breaking down inside just through your eyes, and he didn’t know how long you’d been holding this in. You took a glance at Theo to make sure he was asleep before looking back to your ex-lover.

“Fuck Tom, I was a mess, I-I had to call my mum and ask her to sort the house for me,” you cried, burying your head in your hands. His heart broke, a mental debate going on in his head about whether he should go over there to comfort you or stay sitting in his chair across from you.

He definitely didn’t want to make you uncomfortable with his presence but he also hated seeing you cry like this.

He eventually decided to help, coming over and wrapping his arms around you timidly. He was shocked when you curled into his chest, tightening his hold on you and running his hand over your hair. To make it easier for you both, you switched places. Tom letting you curl up into his lap on the chair.

“Shh, it’s okay, he’s okay,” he said. He didn’t know if he was convincing you or himself though. His voice was calming to you, somehow bringing your tears to a slow stop as he whispered sweet words to you. Just being like this with him reminded you of all the times you’d spent together dating, normally in more positive circumstances than this.

“Why don’t I call my mum or someone, have her come here and watch him, and I’ll take you home for a little bit.” You nodded your head gratefully, tucking your face into his neck as he pulled out his phone.

The phone call between Nikki and her son was rather quick, the woman agreeing to come and watch Theo with no hesitation, especially after Tom had explained the whole hospital situation that only made you tear up again.

“Thank you,” you whimpered quietly. He nodded his head, kissing your temple lightly.

“Of course.”

You were still sitting in his lap with Tom rubbing his hand up and down your back when Nikki walked in, not even half an hour later.

“Hello,” she greeted, trying to hide her grin at the scene in front of her. If you weren’t going to fall back in love like she’d hoped, at least you were on talking terms.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said, getting up to wrap her in a tight hug. She told you that it was no problem, ushering you both out, making a playful comment that you smelled bad. You scoffed, feigning offense, even if you knew she was partially right.

Tom drove you home in your car, back to the home the two of you once shared together. It was silent on the way there, not even the radio turned on for just some form of noise. It was quite emotional for Tom walking back inside the house, looking around and seeing everything was pretty much identical to how it was when he left. His mind replaying all the memories you both shared in different places all over the house.

“Do you want anything?” you asked. He simply asked for a glass of water and you nodded, heading over to the kitchen. It made you frown slightly, remembering what had happened here only the day before. You quickly filled up the glass and then headed back to where Tom was standing, admiring the living room with a tiny grin.

“Why are you smiling?” you asked. He turned his head in your direction, not even realising he had been smiling, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

“I don’t really know, i-it just hasn’t changed,” he said. You could still see traces of a grin as you handed him a glass of water, telling him you were going to take a quick shower.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you said, heading up the stairs to finally have a moment to yourself for the first time in two days.

You didn’t take very long. Taking a quick shower like you said and then drying your hair so you didn’t catch a cold in the winter weather. You got Theo’s stuffed bear that he sleeps with, his blanket and then some new pyjamas for him and you were ready to head back.

“Got everything?” he asked. You nodded, handing him the bear and taking the car keys from him.

“I want to drive,” you stated. You didn’t really know why, but a part of you just wanted to. Tom didn’t argue with you, following you out to the car and climbing into the passenger side.

There was a brief conversation this time around, however still not much, the silence filled with more awkward tension.

“Is this the bear I got him when he was born?” he asked, playing with the small piece of ribbon that was tied around its neck.

“Yeah, he loves it,” you told him. You noticed him wipe away a stray tear that ran down his cheek, making your heart pang in your chest. You reached over the console of the car with your hand, lacing your fingers with his while keeping your eyes on the road. His eyes widened and he stared at you, heart filled with hope, your eyes never glancing over in his direction.

It felt like Deja-vu arriving back at the hospital, except this time you knew where you were going. You entered the room to Nikki sitting quietly beside your still sleeping son, a smile spreading across her face, the woman noting how much better you looked already.

“I should start heading home.” She gave you another tight hug, Tom offering to walk her out because of the now darkened night sky. You bid her a simple goodbye, waiting until they were out of your sight to head over to your boy.

So while Tom went to take his mum to her car, you planned on giving Theo his bear, gently cooing to wake him up.

“Mummy?” he asked groggily. You smiled, handing him his bear and kissing his head.

“You can go back to sleep now, bub.” He hummed, nuzzling his head into the soft fur of the stuffed animal. You also placed the soft blanket over top of him, knowing the thin hospital sheet did little to keep him warm.

“Thank you.” He whispered, adding a quiet goodnight that made your heart swell.

“Goodnight sweetheart.”

                                                       <<<>>>

The next morning, you were informed by his nurse that Theo needed blood tests and some other evaluations to check everything was okay. You knew it was going to be a long day for the four year old so you tried your best to plan out in your head where he could take quick naps in between his check-ups to keep him energized enough.

He didn’t seem fazed by the information when you told him, having no negative experience to relate to having any kind of needle; at least not that he can remember.

Unfortunately for him though, the blood tests were first, meaning he was going to have to deal with a sore arm all day.

The three of you were guided by a nurse to a small office, one with all different kinds of confusing machines that you didn’t know about.

You helped Theo up onto the examination table, still standing close by.

“Mummy?” he asked, his big brown eyes staring up at you nervously.

“Yeah, bub?” you asked, kneeling down so you were just a bit lower than him sitting on the table.

“Can I sit in your lap?” he asked, nervously fidgeting with his hands..

After checking with the nurse, you nodded your head. “Of course you can, come here.” You helped him climb into your lap, sitting with his back against your chest and your arms around his stomach. Tom stayed near the door, ready to leave if it got too much for him; he never was very good with needles, or seeing Theo cry.

The woman explained to Theo that she was just taking blood for them to examine and find out what was wrong. He nodded his head enthusiastically, ready to let her do what she needed.

She prepared what she needed while Tom nervously bit at his nails, seeing the reassuring smile you sent his way.

“This is going to hurt a little bit buddy,” she said, finally pressing the needle to the vein in his skin. Tom winced even before Theo did. The boy clearly hated the feeling, beginning to cry softly from the pain of the syringe in his arm.

You saw Tom struggling in the corner, tears welling up in his own eyes as he watched his son squirm in pain.

“You’re okay, bub,” you whispered reassuringly, kissing his head and his cheek, trying to calm him down enough for the woman to take the blood safely. When she’d gotten what she needed she took the needle out, cleaning up his skin and letting him choose a themed plaster.

“Which one would you like?” she asked, showing him his options. His eyes widened and any trace of sadness was gone, pointing straight to the blue and red masked figure.

“Can I have a Spiderman one, please?” he asked. You giggled, seeing her nod her head. She gently flattened it over his skin, making sure it was properly stuck down.

“You can go back to your room, we’ll run some tests and then we’ll be with you as soon as we can.” She informed you both. You nodded your head, helping him off your lap and letting him take Tom’s still sweaty hand.

“Hey, Theo,” you cooed, bending down to his height. He looked at you with a small smile, letting you wipe the drying tears from his face. “That wasn’t so bad was it?” you asked. He shook his head, showing you his plaster again.

“ ‘Cause I’m a big boy, mummy.” You smiled, nodding your head.

“And, you’re just as strong as Spider-Man,”

you whispered.

“And Hulk?” he asked in a tiny voice.

“Even stronger than Hulk,” you confirmed. He giggled, letting go of his dad’s hand to wrap his arms around your neck, being careful of his sore one. You rubbed his back, continuing to praise him for how good he was. You didn’t notice how Tom was staring at you with complete adoration. His heart was melting seeing you interact with your son like this, having gone without witnessing it in person for a while.

He ran back to Tom, gripping his hand and showing off his Spider-Man band aid to his dad proudly. You smiled, shaking your head, following behind them as they walked back to his room.

He was already used to the routine by now, running to his bed when you all entered the room.

“Okay bud, we’ve got a couple hours until they do some more testing, d ’you wanna take a nap or watch a film with me and daddy?” He sat quietly as he thought about it, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration so he could make the right choice.

“Can we watch Iron man?” he asked. You nodded your head, knowing that was one of Tom’s favourites as well and he’d be more than happy to agree. He jumped down, clinging to you while Tom set up the film on his computer.

You grabbed the fluffy blanket you’d brought the day prior, throwing it over your laps to help you get comfortable enough to watch the two hour film. He cheered quietly when it started, being scooped up into Tom’s lap so the two could quietly talk about it, something that had always annoyed you.

You knew it was going to happen, barely even halfway through the movie Theo had started to fall asleep in Tom’s lap, his head resting on his chest. His head kept falling, making him snap his eyes awake and pretend as if he was still watching the film playing on the laptop.

You giggled, trying to tame his messy hair with your fingers.

Tom eventually placed his large hand on Theo’s head, basically smushing his cheek against his chest, softly stroking his bedhead, helping to keep him in place so he could fall asleep. His other arm was around his back, making sure he didn’t fall backwards off his leg.

“He’s missed you.” you said after a while, catching Tom’s attention, forcing him to move his eyes off his sleeping son to look at you. He smiled, kissing the top of his head.

“I missed him too,” he admitted. You and Tom watched as much as you could of the film, checking the time every so often.

Fifteen minutes before his next set of tests were due to start, Tom gently cooed the boy awake, with soft whispers and kisses to his head. He whined, trying to hide his face and fall back to sleep.

“No, no, you’ve got to wake up bub,” he said. Theo begrudgingly opened his eyes, lifting his hand to rub the sleep from them and look at his surroundings.

“ ‘m tired.” You pouted at him, leaning forward to try and tame his messy curls.

“I know, but you can take another nap later.”

The rest of the day dragged on for the boy. He was practically a zombie by the time he was finally able to go to bed, even with the frequent naps.

You had once again taken the seat beside his bed, running your fingers through his messy hair to try and soothe him to sleep quicker.

He was out like a light in minutes, cuddling even deeper into the pillow.

You let out a sigh, slowly moving away from him to lean back in the chair, realising just how uncomfortable you were. Your constant shifting caught Tom’s attention, his gaze burning holes through you, making your face flush.

You noticed Tom trying to keep his eyes open, looking like a little puppy every time he’d slowly shake his head, trying to shake away the impending sleep.

“Hey.” you whispered, catching his attention, again. “Why don’t you get some sleep?”

He shook his head, assuring you he was fine. You rolled your eyes at his blatant stubbornness, remembering this is how he’d always been.

“Why are you so stubborn?” you asked, not meaning for it to come out of your mouth sounding so vicious.

“I wanna stay and talk to you.” You were convinced your heart had stopped beating. You cocked your head in confusion.

“You do?” you asked. He nodded his head, a small smile on his lips as he watched you get over the initial shock you were in.

“Well, what do you want to talk about?” His smile faded, worry forming in the pit of your stomach.

“C-can we talk about us?” he asked, his voice sounding just as unconvincing as his body language looked. You took pity on him, slipping your hand into his, the one that was resting in his lap.

“I guess, but what is there to talk about?” Tom seemed defeated already by your unenthusiastic answer, it sounded to him like you didn’t want this, but after seeing you again yesterday, he was determined to win you back.

“I never really apologized for everything I did,” he said. “I was a dick, and then I just left you both.” You’d spent months hating Tom for him just leaving you with a toddler, but looking at his face now, you could tell he felt awful.

“I want to do better, be a better dad-“ You cut him off, shaking your head.

“You’re an amazing dad.” You saw the hint of a smile when your words registered in his head.

“I want to be better to you, Y/N.” You froze, staring into those brown eyes, trying to see if he meant it. “I’m so, so, sorry, for everything I did,” he whispered.

Over the course of his apology he had managed to shuffle closer to you. Your knees now touched, preventing him from coming any further forward.

“Do you ever think you could give me another chance?” he asked, almost scared to know the answer. You took a deep breath, squeezing his hand.

“Only if you can promise me one thing.” You explained. Tom’s eyes widened, his heart beginning to race.

“Anything,” he mumbled, fully prepared to dedicate himself to you and your child.

“Please come home.” It wasn’t a difficult decision for time this time around like it was the first time. As soon as he saw your puppy dog eyes, he was sold. He rapidly nodded his head, making a mental note to deal with work later.

He reached his hand up, cupping your cheek, seeing you nuzzle your face closer to his touch. You placed your own hand on top of his, turning your head to place a quick kiss on his palm.

“I know i fucked up, big time,” he reiterated, emphasising the big time and pausing for a minute, rubbing his free hand over his mouth. You watched him intently, the thing that was probably making him most nervous.

“But, do you think we could try again?” Your silence scared him. He didn’t know if he’d ever been this worried to hear an answer from someone.

“Yeah, I think we could give it a go.” Tom grinned, his cheeks flushing a light pink shade. He couldn’t wait a second longer, leaning in to press his lips onto yours. The kiss was perfect. Slow, passionate, everything you’d missed since you’d broken up. “But you’re going to have to prove you’re sorry,” you said.

“I’ll do whatever it takes,” he promised. “I’m really glad to have you back,” he whispered, his forehead leaning on yours and his hand massaging the back of your head. Part of you was screaming that you shouldn’t have taken him back that quickly, but the other part of you had been waiting for him for two years, and you were so happy to have him back.

“Me too.” The moment wasn’t very long lived

after you heard the blankets on the hospital bed rustle, turning your head to see Theo pushing himself into a sitting position. “I think someone else will be too.”

The little boy stared at you both in confusion, not understanding what you were referring to, or why you were suddenly so close again.

“C’mere buddy,” Tom said, motioning for Theo to climb into his arms. The boy climbed down from the bed with minimal struggle, running towards Tom and colliding with him with a loud giggle. Tom made a grunting noise, whining about how strong Theo was and how that hurt.

The boy just laughed at his dad, telling him to stop being silly.

“Do you want to tell him?” Tom asked. You shook your head, flashing him a smile.

“You got this,” you said. Theo looked between you both confused, having no idea what you were talking about, but the nosey part of him really wanted to know. Tom grabbed the boy’s full attention.

“So, daddy’s going to be coming home, is that okay with you?” His eyes widened, his head whipping in your direction, silently asking if it was true. You nodded, your heart melting as tears welled up in his brown eyes.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Tom cooed, rubbing his back as he buried his head in his dad’s chest. He glanced at you, unsure what to do in this situation.

“He’s just happy.” Theo nodded, agreeing with what you said.

“Things are finally going to go back to normal.” You chose not to mention anything about a possible diagnosis with Theo, something that would be far from normal, instead just choosing to soak up the moment, rather than burst your bubble and ruin it.

“Thank you,” you whispered, watching as Tom’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“For what?” You smiled, kissing his cheek and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“For coming home.” He chuckled, kissing his son’s head and then yours.

“You two are my home, no matter where I am.”

                                                         <<<>>>

The morning that the doctors announced they had Theo’s results were nerve wracking to say the least. You were panicking almost all day, knee bouncing, driving Tom insane, your hands shaking out of fear. Tom tried to calm you down to the best of his ability, telling you to take deep breaths, holding you or just your hands and constantly trying to reassure you that you needed to be positive. If not for your own sake, at least for Theo’s.

The boy himself had no idea what was happening, he was just happy to be in his mother’s arms more than he usually was, purely because you refused to let go of him.

“Y/N, you have to put him down,” Tom said, trying to pry the boy from your arms. You pouted, scowling at Tom as he took Theo away from you.

“I’m only taking him to the bathroom, we’ll be right back,” he promised, softly kissing your lips before taking him out of the room. You sat down on the hospital bed with a sigh, picking up his teddy and beginning to fiddle with the ribbon tied into a bow around its neck.

You were too in your own head, thinking, to notice Tom come back. You jumped when his hands slid onto your shoulders, turning your head to see his sympathetic expression.

“I know this is hard, but please, just for him,” you nodded, trying your best to put on a brave face for him.

You spent the next few hours watching one of Theo’s favourite cartoons, one you’d seen a million times before, the time seeming to pass by ridiculously slowly for you. Tom was laughing along to the children’s show, making you roll your eyes and cuddle closer to him. It wasn’t until halfway through, possibly the thousandth episode, that the nurse finally entered the room, saving you the torture of having to watch another episode of the cartoon again.

“We’re ready for you,” she smiled. Tom instructed you to take a few deep breaths.

They led the three of you to an office to discuss, letting you take a seat and having Theo sitting comfortably in his dad’s lap.

It felt like you were in there for hours. You knew you should’ve been listening to what they were saying but you couldn’t concentrate at all.

You were pretty sure the woman had started by explaining the reason Theo had fainted and reacted like he did a few days prior. Everything was falling on deaf ears to you, just sounding like muffled noise coming from another room.

Tom was nodding along with what she was saying, asking the occasional question that let you know that at least he was listening. Your four year old was playing with the loose strings of Tom’s hoodie, wrapping them around his fingers and trying to make them curl. It was unfortunately the only thing he had to amuse him right now. Tom hadn’t noticed you weren’t listening, or that your eyes were focusing on your baby boy.

Theo noticed though, turning to you and flashing you a gappy smile that in return made you smile.

It felt like your heart was pounding but simultaneously wasn’t even beating, in this moment you were too scared to.

They’d obviously brought up something about the test results, Tom suddenly reaching over to take a hold of your hand, kissing the top of Theo’s head for comfort.

Tom’s sweaty hand was gripping yours like a vice, you were glad that he was here and he’d flown in, because if it was bad news, you don’t think you could do it alone.

Your mind went blank, not registering any medical words she said until you recognised the two words that made your heart begin to beat again.

“He’s okay.”

You let out a breath of relief, turning to Tom with a grin. He wrapped his arms around you, giving you a quick hug before showering the little boy in kisses.

You carefully lifted him from Tom’s lap, taking him in your arms to give him the tightest hug you could muster. The doctor explained that you were then free to go, letting you go back to collect your baby's stuff and tell him the good news.

“I hope we never have to do this again,” you mumbled, laying your head on Tom’s chest. His hand came up to run over the back of your head, placing a gentle kiss on your crown. 

“Me too, but look on the Brightside,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips, “We got our family back.”

You smiled softly, nodding your head against his chest. “Yeah, I guess we did.” You and Tom both turned your heads to look at your energetic baby boy, happy to finally be allowed to take him home again.

“Are you ready to go home, bub?” you asked. You saw his eyes light up, his head nodding rapidly as he clutched your hand. He grabbed his teddy bear, leaving you and Tom grabbed the rest of his stuff.

The three of you left the hospital for what was hopefully the last time. Theo practically skipped to the car, telling you both how excited he was to sleep in his own bed again. Your heart was warm as you looked at your little family, completely over the moon to have them back.

The first thing Theo did when he got home was rush upstairs to his room, telling you he was going to take a nap in his own bed. You shook your head with a smile, feeling Tom’s arms wrap around you. He guided you to the couch, throwing his arm around your shoulders. He started to look around again like he had the other day, taking it all in.

“It feels really good to be home.” You grinned at him, practically attacking him with a sweet kiss. He laughed, letting you pin him down on the couch playfully. “I still can’t believe I gave this up, he said, pushing a few strands of loose hair behind your ears.

“Don’t think about it now, okay?” He nodded, straining his neck to kiss you again.

“Mummy, daddy?” Your head perked up at the sound of the little voice, turning your head to see him coming down the stairs. You climbed off of Tom, giving him the opportunity to sit up.

“I thought you were taking a nap bub?” He pouted, clutching his bear to his chest.

“Will you come with me, just until I fall asleep?” You nodded your head, not giving Tom a chance to answer before you were tugging him with you. Tom scooped him up, carrying the tired baby in his arms.

“Why don’t we get in Mummy and Daddy’s bed,” you said. Tom tried to conceal his smile at what you’d called it, happy you were so ready for things to go back to how they were.

Theo climbed in your bed first, laying right in the middle with a sleepy grin. You got in after, watching Tom stop to take in how much the room had changed.

“I pretty much got rid of everything that reminded me of you,” you explained. He frowned, nodding his head and climbing under the covers of the bed. “ ‘m sorry,” you said.

He shook his head, grabbed your hand to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“I deserved it,” you giggled, nodding your head. Your eyes were locked on each other.

“You kind of did.” Theo made a sound of disapproval between you both, trying to get you attention to be on him.

“Sorry bub, were we not paying attention to you?” He shook his head, laying it on your chest just under your chin. You smiled, your heart melting at his affection.

“Goodnight angel,” you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his head. He curled deeper into your chest, a smile spreading across your face.

“Goodnight, little man.” Tom gently ran his hand over the back of Theo’s head, earning a hum in response from the boy.

“You know,” you started, keeping your voice quiet so the boy could sleep, “I’m pretty tired too.” You yawned. Tom threw his arm over you both, letting you rest your head on his shoulder, keeping Theo tucked securely between you two.

He chuckled at your sudden sleepiness, lifting his hand to run through your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

“If you keep doing that I’m going to fall asleep.” You tried to bite back your smile, feeling him shrug his shoulders playfully.

“S’okay, go to sleep.” He smiled, nuzzling his nose into the top of your head.

“Will you be here when we wake up?” you asked, sounding like a scared child.

“I’ll always be here, now and forever baby.”

tom holland taglist - @seutarose @lmaotshollandd @photoshopart15 @hopelessly-harry @drie-the-derp @bvttercupbby​ @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @iwearheadphones @kerrswriting @geminiparkers @blossomparkers @siriuslyslyslytherin​ @musicalkeys​ @itstaskeen​ @icyhollands​ @tpwk-grande​ @zspideyy​ @chrisosterfield​ @starkweasley @givebuckyhisplumsnow​ @lowkey-holland​ @hollandcrush​ @wizkiddx​ @sannie-san-shine​ @sonnydoesrandomshit​

[fangirleaconmigo]

Eskel is wounded in a hunt, and no one in the three towns he passes on his way back to Kaer Morhen will give him aid.

Geralt has a bit of a breakdown about it.

This is Eskel x Geralt hurt/comfort fic. You can also read it as x Lambert, but that isn't explicitly defined, as this focuses on Geralt mostly. But they obviously all love each other.

About 2500 words. Rated Teen I guess? Not explicit. Now beta’ed and posted on AO3.

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Rage pressed out from Geralt’s chest cavity, like bony fingers clawing an escape. Freezing wind whipped his hair into his eyes. He growled in frustration and shook his head to clear his vision. He brought the sledgehammer down on the last remnants of the shed. It cracked and threw splinters into the furious wind.

A throat made a scraping sound behind Geralt. He jerked in surprise, and whipped around, eyes still wild.

“Hate to interrupt, but he’s asking for you.”

Lambert looked comfortable, as though he had been leaning against the tree for an age. Geralt dropped the hammer.

“Oh.” He looked around the wreckage of the perfectly good structure that he had spent a week building. The scrapes on his knuckles and the rips in his trousers told the story of his outburst, if the ruined shed hadn’t done so. “Fuck. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.”

Geralt pushed his hair out of his face with fingers that were unsteady and still unsure of why they no longer gripped the handle of a hammer. Then he rubbed his eyes.

“Take a breath, big guy,” said Lambert.

Geralt’s body instinctively obeyed, and his chest expanded as he pulled in a deep breath. What he had done was setting in. “Why didn’t you stop me, then?”

Geralt knew it wasn’t Lambert’s job to stop him from having mental breakdowns, but he felt defensive. He had given himself one brief moment of self indulgence, and all of this rage had just roared into being. The thought that he didn’t actually know what was inside the yawning chasm of his own heart was terrifying.

It was also embarrassing.

“We all need to let it out sometimes.” Lambert shrugged.

Geralt began to realize how cold he was, and therefore how freezing cold Lambert must be.

“Sorry. I’m an idiot.”

“Ah,” Lambert said easily, dismissing him out of hand. “It’s a relief to see someone else in this family admit to how fucked up it all is.”

Lambert did look relieved. There was recognition in his face. Kinship. Geralt felt a twinge of guilt. How lonely he must feel sometimes.

“How do you handle this? How do you get rid of it? It feels like shit.”

Lambert pressed the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he considered the question. “Being an asshole helps sometimes. Revenge is good. But don’t take my word for it, I’m not the model of fitting witcher behavior.” The last three words were said in a mimicry of Vesemir’s voice. He held both hands up in a sarcastic surrender.

Geralt thought for a moment. Lambert allowed the silence to stretch out between them.

“I know the new cleric down in Ard Carraigh has been working people up, turning them against us. It’s made everything worse,” said Geralt. The gut wrenching image of Eskel bleeding, gasping, and cradling his split open wound as town after town turned him away, blazed to life again in his mind’s eye. He clenched both fists. “It didn’t have to be that way. If only one of those motherfuckers, if only one of them had helped him...he almost...he almost died.” Geralt spat the final word and when he did, he could feel hot tears prickling his eyes.

“I know,” said Lambert. “Believe me I know. But he wants to see you, and you can’t go in there like this. Breathe.”

Geralt nodded and breathed again.

“How’s this?” offered Lambert, “If you don’t come to your senses by the time the snow melts, I promise I’ll help you come up with a really good way to fuck with that self righteous piece of shit in Ard Carraigh.”

Geralt laughed airily. “Yeah, alright.” He put his hands on his hips and waited for his thudding heart to settle.

Lambert’s eyes lit up with glee. “Really?”

Geralt nodded. “Really.”

“Alright. Now come on.” Lambert began walking towards the keep, and beckoned for him to keep pace.

----------------

Geralt washed his hands and cleaned his cuts. Then he changed into fresh clothes and let himself into Eskel’s room with the soft creak of a door.

Eskel lay in bed with his eyes closed. It was a large bed, piled with just about every spare quilt they had been able to find. A neat bandage was wrapped around Eskel’s stomach. Vesemir had done it as Geralt cursed himself for his shaking hands. Eskel was a shade more pale than his usual warm brown. He looked drained, of blood and of energy. The lines of his face were slack, and his hands rested with fingers laced across his chest.

The sight of him provoked a tangle of emotions in Geralt. The usual feeling gripped him of course...the one he felt whenever he saw Eskel’s familiar face...the full lips that melted him to a large helpless puddle whenever they smiled or kissed him....the round, solid shoulders that were the best place on the continent to lay your head. That bit wasn’t a mystery. It was just love. That was the most natural thing in the world for Geralt to feel for Eskel.

But the soft pink suggestion of blood beneath the white cloth kindled a very different feeling. That was the rage. Still there. There were probably not enough structures on the continent for him to destroy to sate it. Also, the slight puffiness in Eskel’s skin surrounding the bandage implied a nascent infection they would have to continue to fight off. That provoked a feeling of powerlessness that threatened to shatter him from the inside out. It intertwined with the desperation to kiss his soft stomach...to make it better somehow.

But he couldn’t make it better. He couldn’t heal him. He couldn’t protect him. He couldn’t do anything at all but be angry and fucking useless. Impotent, helpless, and fucking useless.

What good was it? He thought. What good was love, if no matter the degree of its ferocity, it would never be enough to protect the ones you loved?

For a moment he truly glimpsed the reality of his powerlessness, paired with the vulnerability of Eskel’s flesh. His body. His heart. It could just stop beating, and there would be nothing Geralt could do to help it. The breath sucked from his body, and he swayed, dizzy on his feet.

Eskel opened his eyes, and as he focused on Geralt, he blinked at the look of anguish on his face.

“Hey, wolf. Hey. I’m good. I’m here. C’mere.” He tried to lift an arm to beckon him to bed, but he winced.

His voice was soft and gentle, as though Geralt were the wounded one. That broke the spell of despair gripping him, and he rushed to Eskel’s side. He sat down gingerly next to him on the bed. Eskel leaned his head into Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt situated himself so he could wrap his arms around Eskel’s shoulders, and he dropped a kiss onto the top of his head.

Eskel made a noise of contentment. They sat there for a short moment, breathing together in the quiet room.

“Hey,” said Eskel. He looked up, concerned.

“What?” Geralt asked.

“Hey!” Eskel sat up and unwound Geralt’s arms from his shoulders. He squeezed Geralt’s hands in his. “You’re trembling. What’s going on? What are these scrapes from? Are you hurt?”

Geralt snorted and gently pulled his hands back, tucking them at his side. He was too much of a mess to hide his little breakdown. He would have to explain just a bit. “No. You’re the one that’s hurt. I’m fine. Just. You know. I hate...I hate seeing you hurt.”

Eskel tilted his head. “I said I’m fine.”

“You’re hurt.”

Eskel looked at him quizzically, and dug Geralt's hands back from his sides and clasped them again. He swept his thumb gently below his injured knuckles.

“This is our job, Geralt. Our life. We’ve been doing it for almost eighty years.”

Geralt swallowed. It was true. He felt ridiculous, of course. And defensive. Like he needed to explain himself.

“I know. I know.” He thought of why this was different. But it really wasn’t. Factually, this was just another hunt. Another instance of humans treating them like garbage. He shouldn’t care anymore. And yet? “And most of the time,” he pressed ahead, “I don’t notice. Wounds. Dressings. Combat. The sun rises, the sun sets. It is what it is. I tell myself that all the time. Why worry about something you can’t change?”

Eskel touched a stray bit of Geralt’s hair and tucked it behind his ear. “Then what? What was different about this one?”

He sounded so gentle. He was always so gentle. Geralt couldn’t bear it sometimes.

“Nothing,” he choked out. “There was nothing different about it. It’s just that sometimes...” he leaned back against the bedframe and looked at the ceiling. He just couldn’t look at Eskel right now. “Sometimes I look at you,” he continued haltingly, “and I see the bruises. I see the wounds.”

“You don’t usually see them?” Eskel was teasing him lightly, trying to make him smile.

“Not really. They’re just things to fix. Things to bandage. Things to watch disappear and then on to the next hunt.” He was silent for a good long stretch. Eskel didn’t fill it. He just brushed the palms of his hand and waited. “But then. Every once in a while, I see them for what they are. They are things and people who hurt you. Who stood there, and fucking hurt you. Who saw you as a thing to hurt. And I want to burn down the whole world.”

He pretended that he didn't notice the tear the slid down his cheek.

He finally looked at Eskel, who was sitting up now and watching him intently, with a complicated look on his face.

“Geralt. I’m fine.”

Geralt looked away again, dragging his arm across his face to dry it. “But you almost weren’t.” His voice insisted on breaking, against his will. He cleared his throat. “You could have died. And why? Because no one in three towns would help you? People who you’ve helped countless times??” He felt the thudding rage threaten to swell again like the first ripples of a tsunami.

“Geralt,” Eskel touched his chin. Geralt turned, and was rewarded with a soft look and a kiss. “I don’t have your pretty face, wolf. Even if I weren’t a witcher, they would react the way they do.”

Geralt knew it was true. Eskel’s looming size. His voice. The way his eyes seemed to glow. The scars. All things he loved. But not everyone else did. He clenched his fists. “Idiots.”

Eskel loosened his fingers and clasped them again. “It’s been ages since I got the scars. I’m used to it.”

“Yeah well. You shouldn’t have to be,” hissed Geralt. “Sometimes,” he remembered Lambert’s voice telling him to breathe, so he did. Eskel watched him with concern and something else. Affection. That was it. “Sometimes," Geralt tried again. “I just want you to have the gentle life that you deserve.”

And there it was. As sensible, as strong as Geralt tried to be...as he was, sometimes he was like a little child stamping about how unfair the world was. How he wished it were different. Ridiculous. Fucking stupid.

He waited for Eskel to tell him again that he was fine. To be practical, like he always was. To tell him that it was better than what a lot of people got. That most of the time, he liked being a witcher. That he was good at it. Eskel was like that. Even. Solid. Where Lambert wanted to punch destiny in its smug face, and Geralt hid from the spiteful bitch, Eskel just rode it. Like a ship on a wave. Sometimes he and Lambert resented his ability to do that.

But Eskel didn’t do any of that. He looked at Geralt, and his expression was so raw that Geralt was taken aback. And he was taken back. That was a look he hadn’t seen in many years. It wiped about seventy years away from Eskel’s face. Geralt was transported to this same room. But instead of a large bed, there were two bunkbeds. And instead of two grizzled witchers, there were two small, hopeful, frightened boys, who loved without wariness. Without skepticism. Without doubts.

Eskel pulled his hands to his lips and kissed each knuckle softly, in turn.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice husky.

Geralt shook his head. “Ah, for what? Me being angry doesn’t do anything. It doesn’t help you heal faster.”

“You don’t know that. It might.”

Eskel patted the blanket covering him. “Crawl in with me wolf. We’ll huddle together until it passes.”

The corner of Geralt’s mouth twitched into the hint of a smile despite himself. It was what Eskel used to say when Geralt had nightmares and he would stand stupidly around Eskel’s bed, hoping to be invited in. Geralt had always made up some excuse to accept his kindness. Something that wouldn’t be interpreted as weakness.

“Alright, but only because I want to keep you safe.”

Eskel grinned his lopsided, perfect grin. “I feel safer already.” That was what he used to say. Even as a child he knew how to respond to Geralt. How to handle his pride and his need to be the hero.

Geralt slid under the covers, still fully clothed. He laid his head on Eskel’s shoulder and gingerly draped his arm across his chest, avoiding his injury. With his free hand, Eskel turned his chin to face him.

They kissed, slow and unhurried. Geralt barely pressed against his lips, his fingers ghosting Eskel’s cheek. They could have kissed for a minute, or an hour, or a day. Geralt lost track of time, love settling in his chest and chasing away the rage and the fear. He could also hear Eskel’s pulse growing more steady. He could see that some color had already returned to his cheeks.

Maybe he wasn’t so useless after all.

Then, there was a knock at the door.

“Come in,” Eskel called.

Lambert swung open the door and stood there with a shit eating grin. “Did Geralt tell you we’re gonna go down to Ard Carraigh and really stick it to some piece of shit priest? We’re gonna work out how to make him really suffer.”

Eskel raised his eyebrows and turned to Geralt.

Geralt shrugged. “I’m not saying I won’t.”

Lambert laughed and took stock of the two of them. “Look at you. Two bugs snug in a rug.”

“Come on,” said Eskel. “You too.” He patted the bed on the other side of him. Lambert’s grin stretched wider and he clambered in, pressing up against Eskel, warming himself with relish. He reminded Geralt of a blissed out lizard sunning himself on a rock. Eskel managed to turn enough to plant a kiss on Lambert’s cheek.

Lambert made that noise he always made when he loved something but didn’t want to admit it. It was like a combination of a snort and a laugh.

And when Vesemir came into the room in the morning to check Eskel’s dressing, he found them all asleep side by side.

He chuckled and watched them for a moment as they drooled and snored against one other.

The remaining Kaer Morhen wolves, together.

It was as it should be, how it always was, and how it would ever be.

They needed each other, after all.