#he so did not give a single damn about that snowflake. he was looking at us dazed and all like—

[jishyucks]

Gleam and Glitter — hhj

‣ pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, rich-kid!au

‣ wc: 3.4k

‣ summary: You’ve quickly established that no one at this damn charity gala cares about the event’s purpose. They were just there to party. And you wanted nothing else but to leave; alternatively, in which Hyunjin saves you from your misery to see the city’s Christmas lights.

‣ warnings: lots of being annoyed at the rich (even though reader and hyunjin are rich), 1st world problems, reader’s wearing a dress and heels but no specific pronouns are used (I’m pretty sure), the pair eat some desserts

‣ an: 2nd part for my True Love Gave to Me Series! It's a little slow at first but the parts near the end are cute! Just like the Mark one, I wish I could write more for these two, I srsly think I could've done more but still,,, ENJOY!

Series Masterlist

The venue was beautiful. 

The ballroom was transformed into the party’s theme, Winter Wonderland, adorned with white, silver, and royal blue decorations. From the ceiling hung giant snowflakes, lit up with twinkling lights that glowed softly within the dim room. 

The dance floor, placed in the middle of the room, was surrounded by tables draped in pearly white table cloths, giving it all a sleek, clean look. You can tell how much planning had gone into the centrepieces—delicate ice-looking glass sculptures of various animals. Within each of them were more lights, drawing out the details of the sculptures.

At the other corner of the room, the live band had already begun their setlist. They were dressed in blue or white, or both, as it was the theme of the party. You couldn’t quite tell what song they were playing, but it sounded nice and classy. 

And guests were trickling in, entering the room hand in hand with their plus ones. You can tell that they were all in awe from the scene. I mean you don’t blame them—the scene looked like something straight from a movie. Whoever had planned and decorated the venue knew what they were doing. 

The venue was beautiful… Too bad most of the people attending were snobby rich bitches who really don’t deserve anything good (respectfully).

The main purpose of the event was to raise money for charities involving children for god’s sake—sure it was okay to go all out and grab the attention of the wealthy, but it was so painfully obvious that two-thirds of the guests didn’t give a single fuck about the charities. They were just there for the publicity, hoping to look good in front of the press and it pained you. 

It pained you because, although you barely had the capacity to have passions for anything, you did know that you wanted to use your money for good. And heavy on the good for children.

The party was now in full swing, guests mingling in practically every corner of the room. The live band had just been replaced with a DJ, party songs blasting through the speakers. A small part of you does want to join in, but you wouldn’t say that you associated yourself with any of the people here. 

There was one person who you did love being around—your best friend, Hyunjin—but you simply weren’t sure where he had disappeared off to since you had greeted him at the start of the party. 

“Shit.”

You’re not sure how you hear Hyunjin groan as he slumps in the seat next to you. He stretches his back over the chair before falling limp. 

You can’t help but laugh, “What’s up with you?” You shift in your own chair to look at him, your blue evening gown getting twisted underneath your ass.

“My parents introduced me to like—I don’t know—six old business owners?” Hyunjin mutters, “I don’t even remember a single one of them.” 

“Well, you gotta start working on that future CEO,” you joke, slapping his back, “Don’t wanna be the boss who calls his employees by the wrong name, do you?” You know Hyunjin hates when you call him future CEO, because, well, he doesn’t actually want to take over his father’s company once he retires. But being the only child in his family, it’s a responsibility that he couldn’t really get out of.

“No,” he pouts, lips jutting out. 

You let out another laugh, this time rubbing his back to provide some kind of comfort. From a nearby group of people, you hear people laughing, though it didn’t seem genuine. You echo them. 

“Y/N, they’re gonna hear you!” Hyunjin nudges your arm. “No they won’t. They’re all just caught up in their own world,” You roll your eyes. Then you dramatically say, “Oh how I wish to leave this place.”

There’s a few beats of silence between the two of you. Just by watching Hyunjin, you can tell he’s thinking, eyes darting back and forth as if he were reading a page of a newspaper. 

“Would it be crazy if I asked you to run away with me?”

Your heart misses a beat, “What?”

“Run away with me,” Hyunjin repeats. He’s almost expressionless, staring back at you as he waits for a reply. 

You blink at your best friend, utterly confused by the nonsense coming out of his mouth, “Hyunjin, you really need to be more specific with your words.”

Hyunjin brings a corner of his mouth up towards one side of his face, trying to word what he was asking of you. It wasn’t that difficult to explain, yet Hyunjin’s short on words right now because of all the introductions he’s just had. 

“Do you know what an Irish goodbye is?” 

You shake your head, “No? Is that even a thing?” 

“It’s when you just leave without telling anyone,” Hyunjin explains, “So… let’s leave without telling anyone.” There’s a youthful glint in his eye and you just know that Hyunjin’s ready to take off. He’s excited, even, just thinking about leaving and getting away from this place. You like the idea, too. 

“And do what?” Hyunjin shrugs and your face contorts, laughing, “You’re the one who’s suggesting to leave and you don’t have a plan?” 

The smile Hyunjin flashes is one that shows off his bottom teeth, brows raised and eyes widened, “Sorry, I didn’t actually think you’d consider it.” 

“Do you even know me?” you scoff, “Of course I wanna leave. Anything to get away from these people.” You scoot forward in anticipation to go, but you still really want to hear what Hyunjin’s plan is. 

Hyunjin searches the room as if it were going to hand him the answer. Then he hums and looks back at you, “Do you want to go downtown?” 

Without any hesitation you nod, “Yes.” 

Hyunijn watches as you scan the room, eyes trying to weed out your parents and his. You could guess they were speaking with people you’ve grown familiar with, so you try to pick them out, too. When you couldn’t spot any of your parents, your eyes darted in Hyunjin’s direction, eyes wide and round. “It’s clear.”

You don’t warn Hyunjin before you shoot up onto your feet, trying your best to keep discrete from any wandering eyes. The heels under your feet almost fail to support your pace, but you pay no mind, eyes dead set on the doorway furthest away from anyone’s attention. Hyunjin’s close at your tail, turning back every few steps to make sure that there was absolutely no one watching you both leave. 

The adrenaline’s causing your heart to pump above the average, and you can’t help but let out a laugh the moment you reach the door, soon finding yourself in an empty corridor of the venue (save for the doorman at the front and the woman attending coat check).

Hyunjin stumbles out after you, breathing heavily, “You didn’t even tell me you were going to take off like that!” 

Ignoring Hyunjin’s exclamations, you start making your way toward coat check, heels clicking against the marble floor. Hyunjin is unsure how you’re moving so quickly in heels, but he chooses not to question you.

“Y/N~” Hyunjin whines, “Slow down!”

“If we’re not quick we’re going to get caught,” you shoot a reply over your shoulder. You kindly ask for your coats, retrieving them within seconds before you toss Hyunjin his jacket. “Yeah, but we need to wait for Mr. Jang to come pick us up!” 

By the time Hyunjin finishes his sentence, you both find yourselves outside of the venue, cold air instantly nipping at your exposed skin. There were cars whizzing past, all probably on their way to your desired destination. Right at the bottom of the steps was a sleek black car, similar to what your family owned, and a man who you recognized as Mr. Jang, the Hwang’s driver. 

“So you did plan this!” you look over at Hyunjin. 

Hyunjin shakes his head, “No, but Mr. Jang will jump at any chance to actually do something.” The boy leads you down the steps and reaches the vehicle before you do. He greets Mr. Jang with a bow and then tugs on the door’s handle, opening it for you to hop in. You can’t help but giggle at the gesture, giving Hyunjin a look before sliding in. He shuffles in after you, smiling out of excitement.

“Where to, son?”

“Downtown, please.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

It’s when you both get to downtown that you realize that neither of you knew where to go. 

Sure, the plan was downtown but the city was a big place. Hyunjin should have been more specific, because right now, you were both standing in the middle of a busy street trying to decide which direction to go.

“Close your eyes, spin, and then stop when I tell you,” you suggest to Hyunjin, who’s trying to search his phone for any places you both could visit. 

“How about you do it!” Hyunjin’s brows furrow and he pouts, “It sounds like you’re going to ditch me.” 

“Now why the hell would I ditch you,” you sigh, “Just do it. I would do it, but I’m in heels.” 

You gesture for him to go on with the action, but not before he mutters a ‘the heels didn’t seem like a problem earlier’, earning him a thwack on his shoulder. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, Hyunjin sticks an arm out, using his index finger to point. Then, he begins to spin clockwise. From an outsider’s glance, this man probably looked ridiculous—he was dressed in formal attire and spinning like a top, almost taking out a few passerbyers in the process. 

You were finding this so amusing that you almost forgot that you had to tell him to stop. 

And when you tell Hyunjin to stop, he somehow ends up with his finger just inches away from your nose. You burst out laughing, your hands coming up to clutch your stomach because, for one, Hyunjin took the challenge seriously, and two, he looked absolutely ridiculous just standing there eyes closed and pointing. 

You don’t notice how Hyunjin’s eyes finally flutter open to see what was going on and how his taut expression relaxes the second they land on your bright figure just laughing, even if it is at his expense. His arm drops to his side, making a muted whap against his jacket. This catches your attention.

“I’m sorry,” you say, wiping a tear that has managed to slip out of the corner of your eye. And when Hyunjin doesn’t answer immediately, you take a step closer to him, “Hello?” 

“O-okay, so, that way!” Hyunjin’s brought back from space, head shaking. He side steps and walks around you, leading the way down the street while making sure you were following him. 

Hyunjin has no idea what just happened. It wasn’t like it was the first time he's seen you happy. In fact, you’ve always been happy around him. So, why did he suddenly freeze seeing you happy this time? 

Hyunjin shakes the thought out of his head, dismissing it as the remnants of wine from the party still in his system, and continues walking down the street, just a few paces in front of you.

You and Hyunjin weave through the people walking down the street against you, hands full with shopping bags or stuffed deep into their pockets. The pace Hyunjin had taken began to speed up, as if he had spotted something over the crowd that you couldn’t quite see even with heels. 

Glancing back, Hyunjin gently latches onto your wrist, afraid that you’d get lost in the sea of people, pulling you closer before he continues to step through the occasional gaps between bodies. 

“Where are we going?” you say out of curiosity. Hyunjin’s too occupied to answer you, still keeping his grasp firm around your wrist. He tugs you along for one more block, and by then you can tell that he did have an idea of where you were. Hyunjin knew where to go.

You feel like you’re able to breathe again when Hyunjin leads you into a plaza, and you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. There was more space for people to walk around, buskers at each corner of the opening, and restaurants decked out in Christmas lights and decorations. Some places were blasting Christmas tunes out of outdoor speakers and, from afar, you can see Santa Claus taking pictures with children. You feel your heart fill with warmth in the atmosphere, excited to wander around and kill time with Hyunjin. 

“Do you want to eat something?” Hyunjin questions. The boy halts in front of a food truck, head falling back to scan the menu. The food truck was a dessert truck—candied fruit, ice cream, cake pops, and more. You can see that they also sold drinks. 

You nod, “What are you getting?” 

“I’m thinking a cake pop… you?” The line shifts forward and you both take a step forward to follow. 

You hum and try to decide on your own treat, “Can you get me candied strawberries, please?” 

It takes a little bit to reach the front of the line and finally receive your food. When the man on the truck hands Hyunjin the food, you go to grab it but Hyunjin refuses to let you take it, pulling the treats back to his own body. “Huh?” you frown, “Do you want me to pay you back or something?” Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of the tanghulu. It was almost unrealistically red, like strawberries you’d find in cartoons. 

“It’s cold,” Hyunjin shakes his head, “You can keep your hands in your pockets… I’ll hold it for you.” Then he holds the stick up to your lips, “Here.” 

Your brows furrow and you groan, “Hyunjin, I’m capable of holding it myself, you know.” You’re quick to grab the stick from Hyunjin and give him a look, “But thanks anyway.” 

Hyunjin grins, "Alright, suit yourself." He takes a bite of his cake pop as you enjoy the sweetness of the candied strawberries. The plaza is filled with a festive atmosphere, and you decide to stroll the rest of the area while munching on the treats. 

By the time you were halfway finished with your food, you had been able to properly take in the scene of the plaza. It was actually much larger than it was at first sight, the area stretching down another block or two of buildings. It extended into a wide pedestrian mall, with shops busy on either side of the broad walkway. 

Everyone there looked happy, like characters in the background of a movie. They minded their own business, stopping to watch the street performers entertain the passerbyers, or taking impromptu stops at the local shops lined up along the mall.

And though it did seem like such a first world problem for you to want to experience this without the stress that your parents constantly impose onto you to run a company, you like to think that your feelings still count. Even just a little.

“Look over there,” Hyunjin speaks up. He’s pointing further down the road and into a smaller plaza. There were people skating on a small, man-made, ice rink. 

A gasp leaves your mouth as you when you take notice of the gigantic Christmas tree sitting off to the side of the rink. It had been strung from top to bottom in lights that occasionally changed colours. Ornaments decorated the tree with large ornaments, accented with ribbons and garland. 

It was beautiful. 

It was beautiful and you wanted to go get a better look at it. 

Leaving Hyunjin’s side, you begin walking ahead of him, long forgetting the tanghulu in your hand. And just like earlier, Hyunjin calls for you to slow down, mainly because you were charging through the crowd with a pointy skewer, but also because he cannot catch up. You paid no mind to his attempts to slow you down. You were already dead set on catching a closer glimpse of that tree.

Hyunjin reaches you when you finally choose to stop. Your head falls back to look at the tree from its topper to its base, mouth falling open in awe, “Tell me why I’ve never seen this before.” Then you turn to look at Hyunjin, who’s looking at the tree himself, “How do you think they decorated it?”

Hyunjin lets out a laugh in the form of air shooting out his nose, “Cause all we know is work and school and business. I guess we never really have the time to enjoy these things, do we?” Then he thinks up a clever answer for your second question, but fails, “And honestly, I don’t know. Maybe one of those man lifts?” 

“You’re right,” you laugh, “We need to Irish Goodbye more often if it means we get to see more things like this.” You glance around the area and find a bench nearby. Wordlessly, you grab onto Hyunjin’s sleeve and tug him along to sit. 

You can feel how cool the metal bench is through your dress, but you lean back anyways, continuing to admire the Christmas tree. It was weird because you were feeling this sort of delight growing in your chest just at the sight of the decorated tree, though if you were asked what you were feeling you wouldn’t be able to put words to it. It was like the cherry on top of the sundae, perfectly fitting the ambience of everything that you and Hyunjin have seen tonight. 

And for Hyunjin, sure the tree and the lights strung up all over the plaza were beautiful, but he was having a hard time keeping his attention on them, and instead kept taking glances your way. It was probably the fact that this happiness was different than the ones he’s seen before. It was like your inner child had jumped out, eyes filled with all the galaxies the universe held. 

The corners of his lips had stretched at the slightest, eyes following in pursuit. 

Hyunjin realizes now that if you were happy, he was happy. And he’d do anything to make it happen. 

But he wouldn’t admit that to you just yet. 

Or anyone. 

It was enough for now that he had admitted it to himself.

Feeling eyes on you, you catch Hyunjin looking at you, expression soft. "What's up with that look?" you tease, your eyes narrowing. You lean over and nudge his arm with your shoulder. 

Hyunjin feels heat rush to the apples of his cheeks and the tips of ears. He hopes that you don’t notice, “It’s nothing… just thinking about how we should actually do this more often.” Hyunjin pries his eyes away from you and forces himself to look at the tree which, frankly, wasn’t as pretty as you. 

“We should…” you nod, “This is way better than the gala.” 

Hyunjin agrees silently. 

The two of you sit there in a comfortable silence, just taking in the environment. It wasn’t everyday that you both got freedom like this and it was nice. And you can tell that Hyunjin felt the same. 

Before you finally go to speak up after a while, your phone rings. Glancing at the caller ID, your heart rate shoots up when you see it's your parents at the other end of the line. You quickly answer it to not cause suspicion, already sensing the concern in their voices.

“Hello?”

"Y/N, sweetheart, where are you?" your mom asks. You could hear your father’s voice saying something in the background, followed by another man’s voice. 

"I’m still at the venue," you lie, "I just needed to get air. Why?"

“We found the owner of—” You roll your eyes. Of course. 

“I’ll be right there, mom,” you say flatly, “Bye.” And you hang up. 

“So?” Hyunjin questions. You notice that he had shifted in his seat to look at you, “What did she say?” He didn’t want to get you in trouble. 

“She was talking about the owner of some company,” you shrug, “But that means we have to go.” 

You stand up and take one last look at the tree before you have to drag yourself back into your own reality. It was good while it lasted. 

Hyunjin frowns at your expression and gently takes your hand in his, “I’ll take you back here soon.”

You smile, eyes lighting up at the thought of coming back here again (and in much more comfortable clothes, too). “Promise?”

Hyunjin’s glad to see the joy instantly return to your previously deflating figure and nods.

“Promise.”

an: Thank you soso much for reading! Pls stay tuned for the upcoming members!

[back2bluesidex]

Baggage

Pairing: Ex-Taehyung X Fem!reader

Summary: After six months of parting your ways from each other, Taehyung receives your handwritten letter. An unexpected one.

Wordcount: 1612

Theme: Exes au, Angst, Exes to (?)

Warnings: mentions of infidelity, mentions of alcohol consumption, hints of smut, broken relationship, heavy emotional weight.

A/N: Bracketed parts are Taehyung's POV and the italics are part of the letter.

Follow up drabble: Rainy Days

****************

Hey Taehyung, 

Hope this letter finds you well. You might be finding it odd that I am sending you this handwritten letter while sending you an email would have been much faster and easier. But then again, you know me. Or at least, I think you do. 

I received the courier yesterday and… that was unexpected. I know we have parted our ways but we decided on keeping the engagement rings, didn't we? So, when I opened the package, it hit me hard. And made me write this letter while two glasses of somaek are already in my stomach. 

You should have just kept the ring, it wouldn't harm anyone. You could just keep it in the box and throw it in a corner of your closet or maybe in the storeroom, I would never know. You could also throw it away in a trash can and dispose of it on a fine bright morning. You absolutely did not have to send this back to me. But you already did and things like these can't be undone. So, why don't you return my other belongings too? 

[Taehyung halts reading the letter. A frown takes over his forehead as he tries to decipher what you mean by "other belongings". When you two parted your ways or more like, when he decided to part his way from yours, you left with every single piece of shit you own. Starting from the furniture that you bought to your hair ties, you left absolutely nothing. Other than that engagement ring. He kept it for six months but then looking at it made him feel things he shouldn't. So, he sent that back to you. And now there's nothing. Nothing at all… except for the hollowness that rings in this apartment in his waking hours. Then what might your belongings be? He continues reading.] 

Why don't you return my first kiss that you stole while I was tipsy during college fest? It could have been Namjoon if you didn't meddle in between. You should also return the booze that you drank from my red cup while you could easily refill yours. Return the confession that I made that night right after you kissed me on my doorway for a second time in five hours. 

It would be different if I didn't confess to you. It would be different if you would just let me kiss Namjoon. I heard that he has started his own chain of art galleries. So aesthetic of him, just like me. We would make a perfect couple, don't you think?

[A pang of uneasiness hits Taehyung's chest. He never liked Namjoon. Back in your University days, Namjoon used to be head over heels for you, he never liked that. He wanted you all to himself, all for him. The thought of you being with someone else never sat right with him and it still doesn't. You and Namjoon being a couple! No! He still can't imagine, even after he claims to have fallen out of love with you.] 

Back to the point, if you are returning those then make sure you return the dryness of my trench coat as well. You may not remember, but when we went on our first date, it rained cats and dogs. We bought an umbrella from 7/11 since we could only afford one. We had to share it all the way to your dorm. Half of my trench coat got dumped because the heavy rain. 

I want you to take that wetness back and give me back my dryness. Can you? You can, right?

[Taehyung thinks you have lost it. What have you even been thinking at this point? Dryness of trench coat? How the fuck that makes sense?] 

Now you must be thinking why am I writing about that damned trench coat. Well, because that was my favourite one. It was white, I know you don't remember it. The beautiful snowflake white colour is now ruined because we got soaked, because I got soaked. Can you bring me back the pretty white colour that it had before? Can you take back the ugly spot that now resides on the fabric? Please take it back if you can because it reminds me of our first date, reminds me of you, reminds me of us. 

[Taehyung's breath starts to get heavy as he deciphers the weight of your words. He remembers. He remembers it all. Your first date, that white trench coat you looked so pretty in, that heavy rain, he remembers everything. How can he forget when it's one of the most beautiful memories that he cherishes.] 

Do you remember the day when I was working in the kitchen and you back-hugged me all of a sudden? I was so startled that I burnt my finger? The burnt scar is still there. Each time I see it, it reminds me of the kisses that we shared in the kitchen, the joint baking endeavours that were never once successful, the fights that we fought over choice of take-outs, and more…. More. 

[Only you can do this to him. Only you can make his heart race without even being there in front of him, without even letting him hear your voice, seeing your picture. He questions himself, where did it all go wrong, how did it all go wrong.] 

So, can you kindly return my flawless skin that I possessed before that scar happened? I want to stop thinking about the moments we shared in the kitchen. I want to stop thinking of us. 

[Taehyung's heart drops at your words and he doesn't know why. He knows well that it's him who chose to walk away, it's him who sought warmth in unfamiliar embraces. It's him who ended it all saying he fell out of love but then why does his heart twists at you saying you don't want to think of him? It's not natural, is it? He should not be impacted with anything you say but then why is it happening whatever is happening? He wonders and wanders endlessly.]

Now if I have started about the kitchen then I have to get into the bedroom as well. I want my sleep back. I want my sleep back from when I used to be sound asleep on a weekend morning and you would wake me up with your wandering hands all over my body. You would always find your ways under my tshirts and shorts. Groping, squeezing, rubbing as if your life depended on it. You used to wake me up very cruelly, Taehyung, and then you would make love all the damn day leaving me sore for the rest of the week. 

I can't sleep these days, Tae and I wish to replace it with my uninterrupted sleep from those days. Please return it as soon as possible. 

[Taehyung's eyes have turned blurry by now. But he desperately blinks away the tears. He can't cry for you, he won't cry for you. What's the point of crying anyway? The damage is done and it's not a computer program that everything will be as it was with a mere Ctrl+Z.] 

I won't ask you to return my hugs and kisses that you savoured for the first five years and ignored for the last one. You can keep those. I hope those can make you feel a bit alright when you have to deal with another cranky stakeholder. Keep those, consider it a parting gift. 

But make sure you're returning the worries that I have wasted on you when you didn't return home for the entire night. Return each piece of self respect that I lost when my calls went unanswered and text were left read. Return the efforts that I have put to keep that broken hell of a relationship somehow going when you shamelessly found a different escape each night. Return the trust that I had over love, relationship and promises and now lost because of you.

Return it all. 

But most importantly, return the part of me that I have left with you, that I have lost for you. You must return myself, Taehyung. Return all of my baggage. 

I will be waiting for your next courier eagerly. 

Previously yours,

Y/N 

[A whimper left Taehyung's throat. He can't control himself anymore. He is finally letting it all go. The pain that he thought was long gone or maybe never existed, is more than prominent now. He knows he committed a huge mistake. He knows he has hurt you beyond words but never did once you say anything. You left, just left without a single word. No matter how many arms has he been in during all these times, none could make him feel like home. He would always return to this emptiness where once you resided. He misses you but he is too adamant to accept that. He never fell out of love with you, he knows but he is scared to admit that. He was a fool to give in to the flow. He is a fool because he listened to his friends telling him it's too soon for him to get engaged, he should explore. He is a complete fool to let you go, let your existence disappear from his life. He didn't even think twice before walking on your beautifully crafted dreams and trampling those under his high-end Gucci shoes. He wishes you would fight, slap him, scream at him but you did none. 

You left being broken, left him broken. And now he has no idea how to return your baggage to you. He is lost, lost without you.]

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life

[somnianyx]

GN!Reader || Content: angst, fluffy moments, character death, comfort/hurt

There's a mention of girl but other than that's it's completely gender neutral. It's just cuz I don't know what to use to replace it so feel free to use other terms you like.

It's a lengthy oneshot and honestly it kinda sucks. more dialogue than actions too.

"Waa it's snowing really heavily today!" You exclaimed, observing the falling snowflakes like someone who had never seen snow before.

"What's so impressive about the snow that your jaw looks like it'll fall off any second?" Sae sips his coffee, not looking up at you from his laptop.

You turned to him, eyebrow slightly furrowed. "You just don't get it. It means christmas is around the corner! Although it does get a little too cold sometimes..." Shivers ran up your spine as soon as the words left your lips.

Sae abruptly stood up, holding his hand out for you. Albeit a bit confused, you let your lover drag you towards the couch, sitting you down before disappearing to your shared bedroom.

"What are you doing?" Sae didn't respond, he came out with the blanket you had folded just this morning. "Hey! I just folded that-"

"You said it's cold right? Let's cuddle on the couch." Instead of him, you're the one who got all embarrassed. His straightforwardness is one of the things you love about him but you swear its going to kill you one day.

Concerned by your slightly red face, he dropped the blanket he was holding beside you and puts his hand on your forehead. "Did you already get a fever? Your face is quite red. Maybe I should turn up the heater."

"No! I'm fine! Just... embarrassed." You tried to avoid his confused gaze, feeling his eyes linger on your face trying to decipher the reason.

"Why are you embarrassed? Nothing is embarrassing about being cold."

His question just made you even more flustered, "You shouldn't be so nice to me! What if I fell harder for you, stupid Sae."

"It's only natural that I'll be nice since we're a couple. Isn't that something to be happy for?"

"Yeah, but sometimes you'll have to go abroad for nationals. I won't be able to see you for months and I'll miss you too much that I won't wanna let you go."

"You're not making any sense since I take you with me on every single trip." He sighed and slightly shook his head from your antics, "I'm not going to any nationals soon remember? I took the year off so we can prepare for our wedding."

Hearing that puts a little smile on your face that didn't go unnoticed. Your fiancé tilts his head, giving you a short kiss before making his way to the kitchen.

"Ah! Sae, come back! It's too cold."

"I'm making you something warm to drink. Be a good girl and wait for me."

December 24th, 20xx

"Did you get everything we needed for tonight's dinner?" Sae's voice came from your phone.

"Mhm! Did you got the cake that I said I wanted that day?"

"It's right here beside me. I don't see why you specifically want this cake."

"Cause I heard it was so good that you had to wait a whole day in line just to even get a slice! I wanted to try it once in my life y'know?"

"..."

"Sae?"

"People had to wait in line a whole day for this? The owner just gave me the whole cake when I asked for it. Said its for my lovely fiancé to enjoy."

"What!?"

"What?"

"Wow... this must be one of the benefits to have a famous soccer player as your lover."

"We've been together for 3 years. How do you just realize that?"

"I'm just kidding. What were you doing the whole day outside then if not for the cake?"

"I went to buy some more gifts that I thought you would like. You were practically making googly eyes on that watch we saw at the mall the other day."

"Ack! I thought I was being sneaky.."

"You're bad at being sneaky. You know damn well I only had my eyes on you the entire time."

You giggled at his remark, "Yes yes~ I'm gonna start preparing dinner now. Drive home safe Sae ♡︎"

"Can't you wait till I get home so we can make it together?"

"Nope! See you soon. I love you."

"I love you more, (Y/N)"

You walked back into your shared apartment, holding Sae's favorite takeout when the both of you were too lazy to cook. Setting it aside on the kitchen counter, you proceeded with your normal afterwork routine.

You put on his clothes, his scent surprisingly still lingering although noticeably lesser the more you wear it. Rolling into your bed, you wrapped yourself with the blanket you guys share every night. It smells just like him, in a way it feels strangely comforting yet it makes your heart ache.

Missing his voice, you unlocked your phone and set it beside your ear so you can hear him perfectly.

"Hello?"

"Sae..."

"(Y/N), I'm gonna be little late. The road is slippery and there's traffic so I'll have to be extra careful. Will you be okay?"

"No, I won't be."

"Let me know if you're missing any other ingredients. I'll pick it up on the way home. I'm sorry I couldn't get home faster to cook dinner with you."

"You idiot. You don't have to apologize. I told you I'll take care of it."

"(Y/N), I'm bad at expressing my feelings but somehow it feels right to say this now. I hope we can spend Christmas together for the rest of our lives. New years, valentine's day, white day. I promise we'll spend it all together."

"You're such a meanie Sae."

"The traffic is starting to move. I'll tell you more when I get home. Please call me when you hear this. I love you, (Y/N)."

"So mean..."

Before you even notice, tears were already streaming down your face. Slightly dampening the blanket you're holding close to your body.

Voicemail sent at December 24th 20xx, 8:43pm

"You didn't even fulfill your promise of spending this year's Christmas with me. Now I have to spend new years alone too? How cruel of a man you are Itoshi.."

You place your hand on the permanent divot from where his body once occupied the space next to yours. Remembering how you fell asleep to his heartbeat as he held you close, his free hand playing with your hair and the way he places a small kiss on your forehead when he's sure you're slumbering.

"Sae... It's cold. Please come back.."

[thoraeth]

Words: 2830

Summary: Everything seems ready to take the Challengers' new technology to the next level. However, the only way to move forward is coming to terms with the past.

Chapter5(P.1) - Clockwork

<CH4(PT2) CH5(PT2)> | Read on Ao3

The sun rays of a new morning cast their dim light over the boots and uniforms scattered on the floor.

“Daisy daisy give me your answer do

I'm half crazy all for the love of you…”

Buggy lays on Ava's chest, breath slowing down into tiny clouds on his lips. He indulges in the familiar humming, in the comfy feeling of her fingers running through his hair. 

“You really like that one, uh?” he yawns.

“Yes. It's quite sweet.” 

Struggling, the pirate rolls next to her. 

“Damn, these beds are too tiny. We're joining modules tonight.”

“Are we?” Ava laughs. “Couple of weeks ago you didn't want to share a boat. Is this… a change of plans?”

“Maybe. Sort of. I gotta admit it: you've dragged me into something interesting and now I wanna see what else is there.” 

With a gentle rustling of sheets, the jester brushes his toes along her legs. 

“Wouldn't be the first time your follies click with me, after all...” he adds.

Ava sits up, smiling softly. “In Fugu we’ve got hundreds of stories about pirates: deranged creatures who roam the world, only caring for ale and adventure. Lives so full… Not in my wildest dreams did I imagine I could click with one of them.”

The blue-haired man reaches out to cup her cheek, when Ava’s nose wrinkles up and one big sneeze catches her off guard.

“Ew!”

“It’s getting colder, isn't it?”

A sudden knocking makes Ava and Buggy turn their heads towards the doors.

“Oi! You guys awake? Open up!”

Leaning against the corridor’s wall, Romi is shouting in a slurred voice. She massages her nose under the round lens, a box in her arms.

It seems like an eternity, but eventually a messy blue mane appears behind the sliding doors.

“About damn time.” The Captain says, squinting her eyes. 

She stares at the men blankly, wondering whether or not he's wearing a bedsheet. Must be another hallucination from the horrible hangover that's ravaging her, just like the sneezing blanket next to the window.

“I had the fire alarm restored!” She continues. “I’m telling you, jester: move a single bolt on my ship and I’ll fly your ass to Karai Bari!”

A heavy box lands in the man’s arms as Romi digs her fingers into her temples.

“Here’s some winter gear. It's already snowing and we're not even close to Karakuri.”

“Never heard of that.” Buggy shrugs. “Well, thanks and see y-”

The blanket sneezes again. This time it's loud and clear.

Romi looks around the room, perplexed, when she meets Buggy's guilty look and everything gets plain as day, even for her intoxicated brain cells.

“Ok…I guess I’ll leave you guys to, uhm, whatever this is.” she says, adjusting her glasses slowly.

The Captain turns around and walks out of the room with a cunning smile on her face. 

“This is one hell of a 164!” She chuckles, stumbling under the deck's light arches.

As the hours pass, a thick fog rises over the Grand Line. The Challenger comes out of the Belts, sailing across the dark waters under a storm of chunky snowflakes. On its weather deck, the crew is wrapping up in white camo suits.

“We take the icebreakers’ path to Karakuri, then dock at the farest end of the harbor.” 

Romi turns the Drifter on and gives her orders.

“Meg,Torres, Allen, you're hiking team. Go straight to the lab's ruins. If the machine is still there, we take it apart and bring it aboard piece by piece.”

As the engines hiss louder, the Captain raises her voice. “Buggy, Ava, you're on supply duty: we need fuel and components for the assembly-lines.”

“Two-sided?” the blonde asks, shivering.

“Yes, as in the blueprint I gave you. Now, go and be discreet.”

The anchor drops in the water with a low grumble and everyone zips their collars up, ready to disembark.

“First time in weeks we set foot on land and it had to be winter wasteland.”

Buggy frowns at the map in his hands, stumbling in the snow repeatedly.

“I had never seen this much before!” Ava giggles, kicking up the snowdrifts on their way.

“You what? I can't hear shit with these things on.” 

Tugging on her sleeve, Buggy pulls her close, reaching for the soft collar that's covering Ava's face. 

The woman jumps back, though, hands clenching on her suit. 

“No! Someone will see them!”

“You ain't exactly in a bikini, doll, it's kinda hard to see any…Oh, you mean the teeth.”

“They may think I'm a fishman. What if these people… were hostile?”

“Hostile! Why, ‘cause you're grocery shopping?” Dramatically, Buggy leans over the woman. “Are you afraid they'd go tell Meara you’re, god forbid, having fun?!”

Ava chuckles, playing with the puller of her zip.

“Take it easy! No one knows you outside your stinky island. It's a good thing.” The jester gently presses his forehead against hers. “And speaking of which: since there is someone on this team with a worldwide known face… you better be prepared to do the talking here.”

“Are you serious?!”

As the two of them keep arguing and plunging their feet in the snow, the town square appears before them. 

The fog is gradually lifting, revealing little shops and chatty people all around.

“Apologies. Coming through.” 

A stiff voice startles the two foreigners and their eyes widen at the sight of a tall iron doll. 

It is approaching at a painfully slow pace, rocking in jerky movements. 

“It’s an automaton! Just as Romi said!” Ava whispers, excited.

The town of Karakuri is indeed swarming with dolls, robots and mechanical animals who seem to be busy helping the locals with their chores.

After some wandering around the square and its unusual residents, the two stop in front of a rundown shop. The place looks almost abandoned; no one in sight behind the broken windows.

Ava steps in first and a soft chime comes from the ceiling. 

“Umh…good morning.” 

“Good morning, customers. Your faces are not registered as you may not be from Karakuri Island. Please, identify yourself.”

Jumping out of the shadows, a squared robot reaches Ava’s feet. It wobbles on its tracks, circling the woman and beeping persistently. 

“W-w're shipbuilders from Water 7. We stopped for r-replacements and supplies.”

They’ve rehearsed that story for hours, and yet Ava’s sweating. “What if Karakuri robots can read minds?” She thinks as a tiny blue beam starts running up and down her body.

“Water 7, shipbuilder. Female. Five foot two. Blonde hair. Green eyes. Sharp teeth.” 

The robot hasn't finished scanning Ava, when she steps out of its light. “What do you care about my teeth.” she states in a cold voice.

“Distinguishing marks are part of my protocol, customer. Please keep still.”

“I have a damned piece of metal in the middle of my face, what more do you need?”

“Stop it.” Buggy growls, underneath his hood. He briskly nudges his companion and shoves a scribbled piece of paper on the robot’s front camera. 

“We cast off in an hour, can you pack these quickly or shall we go elsewhere?” he insists.

The robot bleeps something about completing its protocols but a human voice shuts it up, echoing from behind a wall of boxes.

“Ugh, get to work, you stupid can! Ya gonna lose me another sale.”

Downhearted, the automaton unleashes its mechanical arms to gather the ingredients on the list. 

Ava, however, goes roaming around the shop in search of that raspy voice.

Peeping out of a stack of bags, she spots a wrinkly woman standing by a mechanical firefly: the granny is curved on a compact mirror, drawing shapes on her eyelids in the dim light.

“Ya foreigners never seem to get it, uh? Just ‘cause they’re speakin’, doesn't mean they’re thinkin’.” She grumbles as Ava gets closer. “Ya walk in with a harpoon through your head? Robo-clerk beeps bops and settles ya bill.  That's all.”

“Mh, I see.”  

Leaning over the old woman, the blonde’s attention gets caught by some black powder in her hand. “Do you… sell this, by any chance?”

The granny nods and points at a wooden box on the ground, filled with small round tins. 

“Oh, these are perfect!”

Ava runs back to the counter, hands full of tins whose label reads ‘herbal pigment’. 

She puts her loot down and pays for their shopping by shoving a bunch of Berry banknotes into the Robo-clerk. 

“Deliver to pier 32, as fast as possible. Have a nice day, madam!” She shouts happily, then drags her companion out of the shop.

The two steps in the freezing air outside, but once they're far from the crowd, Buggy plants himself in the middle of the street.

“You almost got us in trouble.” 

“And yet, all's well.”

“Well my ass. Stop giggling like an idiot, what the fuck is that?”

With her hair blowing in the wind, Ava is holding a tiny box in front of the man's face. He snatches it and unscrews the flat lid, struggling in his thick gloves.

“I saw the shop owner doing her makeup with it, just like you do.” 

Both lean closer, observing the black powder in the container: it’s slightly shimmery in the daylight, a deep black with blue and purple reflections.

“Herbs should be safer than charcoal, right?” Ava adds softly.

Buggy grabs the shortie by the waist and sweeps her off her feet for a moment.

“That's fucking great!” He laughs. “Actual makeup, God, I can't believe it! Didn't they have coloured ones?”

“Shoot, I didn't ask!”

“Nevermind. Best gift ever!”

He shoves the box in his pocket and rests his arm on Ava’s shoulders as the two go back to exploring the small town. 

They idly walk amongst little houses and market stalls, commenting on the automata around them. 

After a while, Ava looks up at the pirate:

“We'd better return to the ship, we've been wandering for a while now.”

“I'm not done yet.”

“Did we skip something from the list?”

“Yes, your gift.” he mutters happily.

“You don't-”

“It has to be fucking grand, like a platinum tiara or something! That is, if there's anything valuable in this place...”

“A tiara? Who am I, Princess Shirahoshi?” Ava laughs.

“C’mon, it's flashy! You'd rather get a necklace? Earrings? A ring, maybe.” 

Suddenly, Buggy's attention is drawn to the main street. “I could make an honest woman of you.” he continues, absent minded.

“As if we hadn't literally met at the altar. It takes an honest man to make an honest woman, you know?”

The jester brings the woman's hands to his lips, a sinister light in his eyes. 

“We must be hopeless, then.”

Before Ava could say another word, he's gone.

The pirate hides behind a stream of people who seem to be headed towards a tall building, the town hall. As the crowd gets nearer, Buggy notices that a number of guards and marines are patrolling the area attentively.

All citizens are asked to get in line in front of a sturdy automaton and, in turn, they place Berrys and shiny objects inside a small vault built into its torso. 

Stealthy, the jester moves away from the crowd and sneaks around until he reaches the building's backyard. 

The windows there are dusty and chipped, and yet he manages to spot a wooden chest, filled to the brim with gold and jewels; only a young marine to guard it. “Ka-ching!” Buggy grins, ominously. 

His pinky travels from his palm to a creak in the window and, one after the others, the pirate's fingers all creep inside the room. They open the window slightly and let his arms, legs and torso in too. 

As the cadet paces back and forth at the door, the jester’s pieces smuggle behind the chest, unseen. Or so he thinks.

“Intruder alert. Launching safety recount: two billion, three hundred thousands…” 

As the chest snaps close, a loud cry descends from the ceiling: a mechanical snail, like Buggy’s never seen before, is glowing red and shouting numbers full blast. 

“W-who's there?!”

The young marine searches the room trembling, gun at the ready, when a hooded figure jumps out of nowhere and knocks her off. 

Buggy doesn't even have time to think, before the room’s doors slam open and a multitude of guns’ barrels and white uniforms comes pouring in.

“Hands up! You’re under arrest in the name of celestial dragons.”

The pirate steps back from the unconscious marine and turns around, slowly raising his hands: he's surrounded and a massive man is pointing a rifle at him. 

“Take that hood off his face.” The officer shouts. “And you, keep those filthy hands where I can see them.”

A short soldier approaches and Buggy notices it is made of scuffed metal. His cold claws pull his hood away and the fuzzy blue hair bounces out. That and his big, round nose.

“You better pray Private Tin Head here is better than that.” the jester growls, hinting at the cadet on the floor.

“I know that nose.” the officer squints his eyes as a nervous buzz rises through the soldiers.

“What is an Emperor doing in this area?”

“This is a disaster. They can’t live to tell they saw me here, it’ll all go to fucking hell…” Buggy breaks into a cold sweat. “That’s what you get for playing prince charming, idiot!” 

Tension is bolting through his body as he's ready to burst in a million pieces.

However, just as he's about to snap apart, the sound of a familiar voice in the distance weirds him out: a short woman dashes through the soldiers, sobbing loudly.

“Don’t shoot! It’s just my husband!”

“Step back, miss. How did you even get here?”

An agitated Ava emerges from the crowd along with two mechanical cadets.

“My husband went missing and your…men helped me find him!” She whines, big tears streaming down her eyes. “He needs his pills, please!”

“Cadets, debrief.”

“Foreigners, shipbuilders from Water 7, sir.” one explains in a flat, neutral tone. “Here for replacements and supplies. Male went missing. Six feet two, blue hair, blue eyes, big round nose. On pharmacological therapy.”

“Hey!” Buggy shrieks outraged as the blonde runs past the big officer and clings to him.

“He’s convinced he’s the Clown Yonko. He was never the same after the incident…Please, sir, let us go back to our ship.”

All soldiers put their arms down, looking at one another confused, but the officer is still aiming straight in front of him. 

“Nice acting, miss, but I still don't buy it. You're under arrest too.” 

“Let your soldiers scan him, then.” Ava replies, cold. “Wasn't the Yonko a former warlord? You must have datas, somewhere.”

The officer grunts his orders to the automata in the room and flickering light beams fall on the blue haired man. After a long moment, the verdict arrives:

“No match found. Height, eye color incorrect.”

Ava squeezes Buggy a little tighter.

“Can we go now, sir? I'm taking him straight to our doctor.”

“Friggin’ foreigners, just wasting our time.

You two, get them out of town. Now!”

In a blink of an eye, Buggy and Ava are kicked out of the building and escorted by the two mechanical cadets. The pirate has put his hood back on and keeps staring at Ava, the same face he'd made for a cat with five paws.

As soon as they reach the foggy woods and the automata march back to the village, both snap at once:

“What. Was. That.” 

“You tried to steal from Celestial Dragons?!”

“Only a few coins! It was supposed to be your gift, anyway, so…your loss.” Buggy shrugs.

“I want nothing but a little gratitude for saving your ass.”

“Shouting from the rooftop that I'm a lunatic loser? Oh, and those fake, fake tears. What happened to miss ‘I'm scared to talk to people’?”

“She didn't want to go to jail!” Ava cries out. “On that note, I hope they won't find out about the robots.”

“Why, what did you do to them?”

“Well, I mean, if they're speakin’ doesn't mean they're thinkin’, right? I saw their power buttons and… took the opportunity to scramble the local archives a bit.”

“Don’t worry, we'll be gone soon.” Buggy smirks, “You’re right though, your smart ass deserves something.”

A gold necklace appears before Ava's eyes, dangling from the jester's fingers. 

She takes the jewel in her hands and runs her finger along the round pendant.

“It’s a locket!” she exclaims, gently snapping it open. “Wait, why is there a portrait of a man?”

“What do I know? Must be that cadet’s sweetheart. I took the necklace from her neck.”

“A stolen gift, uh? Thank you.” Amused, Ava sighs loudly.

She keeps fidgeting with the jewel at her neck as they walk away in the freezing wind.

“If they both fit...” she thinks. “I could finally take them with me.”

[carbondioxda]

The damn snow.

Albedo x reader <33

c/w: lots of swearing!!, the reader is a girl, traveling through dragonspine, reader has a backstory and a cryo vision, experiments, mentions of the ginger, overall fluff and comfort

a/n: second fanfic, writing this at 2am sorry for typos or repetitions!! english isn’t my first language, so please tell me if I make any mistakes, I’ll be very thankful!

as I said in my previous post, the way I write dialogue might different than what you’re used to

She was sick of hearing the crunches her boots made in the thick snow. It was deafening at this point.

She felt hot inside, which made her wanna rip off her winter jacket, but somehow her joints were completely frozen.

,,I’m gonna loose my fucking fingers by the time I get there.” She thought to herself, knowing it was a plain lie, because it wasn’t her first time going through Dragonspine. And most certainly not the last.

Maybe it would’ve been easier if she had a pyro vision, instead of the currently useless cryo one. Everything in her life was about snow. Parents? Froze to death. Siblings? Froze to death. Homeland? The fucking cold-ass Snezhnaya. Herself? Froze to death as well, multiple times actually. Every single time she made her way to her spouse’s laboratory, to be more precise.

Despite her past expieriences she wasn’t afraid of the cold. She used to be, however now it’s just making her blood boil. Only hatred stayed.

They did have a small, cozy, warm, cute house in Mondstadt, but Albedo was stubborn on working in the most annoying fucking region known to man.

She looked up, ignoring the snowflakes on her eyelashes. Right, time for a hilichurl. Poor guy picked the wrong time to be on her way. He didn’t even have time to notice her, before her weapon went flying into him. She was waaaay too pissed off to even try to put effort into this fight, or any other thing at this point.

She flew over to his lab, using the wind glinder. It was a true wonder how it worked in that weather. She stood right next to the small fire right at the opening of the ,,cave”.

- Oh? You’ve arrived. - Albedo noticed, unfocusing on his work.

- No shit. - his beloved mumbled, still covered in snow and barely able to move. He must’ve noticed how much she hated going into his lab by now.

- You were pretty fast. Two minutes faster than usual. - the blonde pointed out, inviting her in.

- Furious too. - she stated, taking off her soaked jacket and taking out a few small boxes from her backpack. They weren’t in such horrible state as she was, thankfully. Albedo took out a few herbs from them, he needed them for his research. As she went further inside, a nice smell struck her nostril. He was cooking soup.

- I see. - he smiled. He wasn’t phased by her behaviour. The first time she had to come there was extreme though, he was afraid to even speak to her. - Those look more fresh than I anticipated.

- Childe gave me those this morning, when he arrived. He’s going on a worldwide trip again, I guess. - she said, now sitting next to the fire, regaining her ability to feel arms and legs. She spoke in a calm tone now, not wanting to let out her anger on the poor alchemist. Fingers are gonna take a hot while to come back.

- Do you know if he’s staying for long? - Albedo asked, multitasking. He was boiling some water and mixing liquids with the herbs, while still listening to what she had to say. She didn’t come all this way to just be ignored, after all. Honestly, he couldn’t ignore her even if he wanted.

- Not really. But not for long, if I had to guess. He never stays for longer than a week. I bet he’s gonna visit that one guy from Liyue next. - she rambled, staring into the fire. It was so comforting to finally rest.

- Drink this. - he requested, giving her a cup with a flowery-smelling tea. It had the same blue hue, as the herbs that she gave him.

- Is this made from the thing you asked me to get you from Snezhnaya? - she said puzzled. - Come on, I thought you needed this for research!

- I did. I saved some of it. Come on, drink up. It’s gonna make you feel better. You need more vitamins, don’t force me to make you come all the way up here every time I see you skip meals or eat junk. - he insisted. It did make a lot of sense. Whenever she was overworking herself or too lazy to keep a healthy diet, he’d make her come to Dragonspine and drink crazy teas, which were probably vitamin bombs.

- You…you realise you couldn’ve made me a tea at home, right? - she mouthed, slowly sipping on the hot drink.

- You forget about all of the things I make you in a span of 10 minutes. They all go cold. - he pointed out. He wasn’t mad, or said it in a venomous tone.

- Good point. - she responded bluntly, trying to forgive him for the torture he made her go through. - But you could’ve just reminded me!

- Also, I need to work. - he added quickly. He focused on his work again, meanwhile she started reading a book. Albedo gifted it to her some time ago.

She managed to finish her tea. Then, he put away all of the documents he had on his desk into a drawer. He did the same with some supplies, only left a few colorful vials untouched. The blonde made his way to the girl’s side. She was feeling warm now, but looking at the horrible weather outside made her want to cry. Albedo noticed it.

- We’ll head out tommorrow when it stops snowing so much. You did a great job going through that snowstorm, I honestly thought you’d stay home. - he said, sitting down.

- Nah. I decided to be productive. I wanted to see you. - she smiled at him. Finally, she was in a good mood. He took out two bowls and finally put the wonderful-smelling soup into them. God, they were starving. It was gone in a few minutes. Now, she was fed, tired and ready to sleep.

- I think I’m gonna take a nap.

- A nap? It’s nighttime anyway. Just go to sleep. - he giggled. He slowly got up and placed a small kiss on her forehead.

- Aren’t you gonna rest too? - she asked, seeing him get back to his desk.

- No need. I’ll get plenty of that when I die.

- You’re not gonna be doing that anytime soon. Lay down with me. - she begged. She saw him hesitate for a second.

- I still need to finish this. If I won’t, I’ll need to do it some other time and you’ll have to go through the whole Dragonspine just to see me again. - he tried to negotiate.

- I will.

- Don’t you hate the snow?

- I do hate it, yes. Not as much as I love you though. - she said, her words sounding like honey to him. He had to take a breath before he responded, trying to comperhend how she never had a filter.

- Got me there. - he said, coming back to her.

Now she’ll cuddle him to death.

[milkypompon]

Gentle Nights

summary: y/n is in pain from their monthly cycle. Luckily, the ragbros are here to help!

genre: modern!au, roommates, fluff, flirty kaeya, shy diluc

word count: 1084 

With niceties aside, you asked the two bickering Ragnvindr brothers why they bothered to dorm together if they constantly butted heads. Not to mention how their deep pockets could easily afford an apartment in all the major cities of Teyvat.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have their golden family lineage to become a nepotism baby. Hence, why you had to room with not one, but two people to ease up on the rent.

The more hot-tempered of the two muttered about how their father wanted them to find a common ground before they inherited the Dawn Winery company.

Your eye twitched. Damn these rich brats.

That was last semester.

Now, if Kaeya or Diluc went missing, you wouldn’t leave a single stone unturned in the world to find them.

Your eyes danced along the slow-burn romance novel recently recommended to you by your honey-sweet friend, Lisa. She slid it to you across the table with a wink.

Being on the couch bundled up with too many fluffy blankets and reading a smutty book that Barbatos forbade anyone saw was the only reprieve you had the past few days.

You cursed as you doubled over in pain from the cramps.

Gentle tinkering of keys from the front door forced you to shove the book under Kaeaya’s blanket you borrowed – a fuzzy little thing decorated with twinkling snowflakes.

“You’re still awake?”

Speak of the devil.

You giggled softly. “It’s only 8 pm. I’m not a grandma.”

A flash of red caught your eye near the kitchen.

“I beg to differ,” Diluc snorted. “You read your book, ate Pocky, and napped repeatedly. Need I mention that you did that for most of the day?”

You rolled your eyes and pouted. “Try having a uterus for once, you dick bearing man.”

“Right, right.” He opened the microwave with a soft click. “And luckily for you, I cooked dinner.”

You smiled confidently. “That’s why you’re my favorite Ragnvindr!”

Kaeya toed his shoes off and gingerly placed them on the rack, remembering how much you hated it when he tracked in dirt. The last time he did, you forced him to mop the floors and scrub the soles of his shoes with an old toothbrush.

“I didn’t like what just came out of your mouth,” he smirked.

“And where has your mouth been? Your shift at Angel’s Share ended a while ago.” Your eyebrow quirked up.

“Forever painting me as the manwhore...”

You inhaled sharply when you noticed a plastic bag that dangled behind Kaeya.

“You really should treat me kinder, princess! It’s your fault I’m home later than usual.”

He tossed the bag to you. Inside was a pack of chocolates enough to feed a neighborhood of children during Halloween. But of course it wasn’t to give away, but to snack on until you were satiated and done with your monthly cycle.

With a sheepish smile, you hobbled over to Kaeya with a blanket around your shoulders. “You may have knocked Diluc to number two of my favorite Ragnvindrs,” you murmured into his neck as you wrapped your arms around him. Spearmint and a lingering smell of alcohol enveloped you.

Diluc cleared his throat. “Last time I checked there were only two of us. So it looks like I’m in last place.”

To Kaeya’s disappointment you pulled away first. He felt a warm wave of embarrassment at his realization.

You tossed the blanket to the couch and walked over to Diluc. “Well, there's your dad too.”

“You did not just say that,” the brothers exclaimed in unison.

Their reaction egged you even further. “With him on the roster, Mr. R may have just made it to the top of the list.”

The red-head turned around and quickly hoisted you up by the waist. Before you managed to realize that you were up in the air, he plopped you down in a chair.

Diluc wrung his wrists and sat next to you. “Eat up before the food gets cold again.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden display of physical contact. Kaeya was usually the one with touches that lingered on for too long. But after knowing him for months, you realized he seemed to crave skinship from everyone. So, you thought nothing much of it.

But Diluc?

Kaeya waving a fork-skewered chunk of the Pile Em’ Up sandwich pulled you back from your thoughts. “I’ll take the first bite if you don’t mind.”

The crunch of the crust and the sight of the cheese stretching made your stomach grumble.

“Hey, get out of here!” You huffed and snatched the fork from his hands. “Take a shower will you, Kaeya? The smell of wine is stuck to you like a second skin.”

With a swift tug at the collar of his shirt, Kaeya was left bare-chested. “Well if you wanted to see me naked, you could’ve just asked…” He purred.

You scrunched your nose from the slight tremble in your core.

It’s the hormones. You told yourself.

Kaeya let out a soft laugh and kissed the crown of your head. “Lighten up will you? You better have a smile on your face and Twilight on the TV by the time I’m done showering.”

Before you knew it, his long strides brought him to the bathroom, leaving you and Diluc alone.

Diluc gave you a small smile and pushed the plate closer to you. “Finish this first because Archons knows how long we’ll be watching.”

–

The sound of conversations on the television only served as white noise now. As the hours ticked by, your body melted into Kaeya’s chest, the mountain of blankets pushing both of you down into the couch. His lithe fingers massaged your scalp, teetering you into the brink of sleep.

Diluc scooted closer to you and lightly touched your thigh. “Y/n’s asleep again, huh?”

You pried your eyes open, meeting his radiant red ones. “Surely not with you nagging.”

He pulled away quickly. “I apologize—”

You grabbed his wrist. “Keep your hand there. You’re warm.”

Kaeya snorted at his brother’s utter cluelessness with your advances.

Diluc drew small circles with his hand, slowly being accustomed to the comforting warmth the three of you shared.

–

Epilogue

Something pricked Kaeya’s back. He carefully peeled away from your sleeping form, snickering about you looking like a small kitten, and reached behind him.

A book.

Specifically, your borrowed novel from Lisa.

He read the title and tossed it to his brother with a smirk.

Diluc’s eyes widened. His cheeks blooming into a blush.

–

a/n: getting back into writing again! I love love love soft kaeya and diluc.

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 3

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / enemies to lovers / bug gets meta

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Mia.

Mia, Mia, Mia. 

Oh she was lovely. You’d been chatting with her on Baekhyun’s phone for the better part of an hour and for a moment you forgot all about the man who now laid with his head on the other end of the sofa with his feet stretched over your lap and a phone held up to his face.

He was scrolling through something, giggling and typing. 

The phone you had down in your lap vibrated with another incoming message. 

Laughing emojis, a row of them. She was sharp. Wit and charm came through in her messages and you found yourself responding with an equally long string of laughing faces. The ones with tears leaking out their eyes. She felt so damn familiar and comfortable the moment you got past the awkward introductions and you really started talking to her; the jokes were easy and the topics were something you knew enough about to fake your way though thanks to Baekhyun’s many passions and his absolute inability to shut up about them. He’d held you hostage with so many video games and anime episodes, you knew exactly what she was talking about now. You felt like a complete pseudo pro. A well-read scammer. A faker but a weirdly genuine one. 

You went back to her profile and dragged each of her pictures across the screen with the tip of your finger, switching between them all. She was pretty. She was smart. She was interesting to talk to. She was perfect. Just perfect. A steady warmth had seeped into your chest as you looked at her. It was welcome and actually felt nice at first; if not a little bit unexpected. But the longer you looked at her smile, the more intrusive that warmth felt. After too long, it was sticky and almost too warm. You struggled to breathe deeply. You were breathing normally, there was absolute nothing off about your breathing, but each breath you took suddenly failed to satiate. Why were your lungs suddenly missing oxygen? They were misbehaving without any reason to. You closed out her pictures and returned to the chat window. 

She was asking about the latest episode of an anime. Something that was in its final season. Something you were sure Baekhyun would also be watching soon if he hadn’t seen it already. You could feel her excitement in her words. Something epic must have happened.

“Baek did you watch Attack on Colossatron last night — the latest episode?”

“Not yet—no spoilers, I’ll kill you.” His response was quick and you responded in a similar fashion in text to Mia; without the death threats. You weren’t quite that comfortable with her yet. 

Baekhyun shifted and moved a foot behind you, digging it under your butt into the gap of the couch cushion. You ignored the intrusion because you were talking to Mia. His soon to be brand new girlfriend by the looks of the conversation. You caught what you were certain was subtle flirting just below the contexts. Then outright flirting. She was sending you a picture from the dating profile you’d set up for Baekhyun. She had to have saved the picture to send it. It would now be saved on the camera roll of her phone where she would likely look at it again and again, admiring how good Baekhyun looked in it. 

She was commenting on how unexpectedly handsome you were and how most of the men who shared interests with her did not look like you. 

She was asking for a picture of you—err, of Baekhyun. She was having trouble believing such an attractive man like you was real and she actually used the word catfishing, careful to insist that she wasn't accusing you of anything; just that she was sure you looked just like some celebrity she saw on twitter and one couldn’t be too careful. 

But you were quick to cooperate and to agree with her need for assuredness. As a woman, yourself, you understood her suspicions instantly.  Yes, Baekhyun did look shockingly attractive in the profile pictures you posted of him. You could see how someone might doubt that he was real and he lived only 5 miles away and was now sweeping her off her feet with his engaging conversations and hilarious jokes. You’d be sure and make him thank you well for this later. 

The pictures of him were surprising, even to you, and you lived with the guy. You saw him every single day. Yet something about seeing him in these pictures, dressed in that black button up shirt and jeans and looking at the camera with a breathtaking natural smile; one he gave you so easily that night when you told him just how good he looked all dressed up. 

“Peanut, look at you! You look so fancy.” 

“Wow, I cant believe how handsome you are.” 

It only took a couple of sincere compliments for the man to unfold before you and the results on camera pulled you into an uncomfortable and unwelcome thoughtfulness when you looked at them alone later. Of course you knew he was handsome. You just hadn’t been prepared for how very attractive he would look on camera. 

You got all his best angles and the man had taken you off guard when you’d bravely asked him to give you a sexy look. 

It happened just at the end of your little makeshift photo-shoot. You were both a little tired, you could tell with the way he slowed down with his talking and his movements. You could always tell when Baekhyun was tired. Sometimes before even he knew it. 

The sun had gone down and you’d pulled him from your room into the living room where the lights from the city shone through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, creating a soft glow on his face. The moon was full outside. It was a chilly winter night and snowflakes drifted down to the street below. You were feeling perhaps a bit romantic. Perhaps you were a little bit grateful to be inside and warm and spending your time capturing the pretty face of your annoying best friend. 

You’d gotten a bit bold with the pictures and he’d been behaving so well, not even complaining when you asked him to lay down on the floor so you could capture the beautiful city-scape in the background of the shot. He’d gone still while you set up; moving furniture and turning on a lamp in the corner for more lighting on his features — you wondered briefly if maybe he had fallen asleep. 

You laid down beside him holding your camera up in the right spot to get something nice. His eyes had closed up and his breathing was even and slow and when you’d softly called his name with your camera acting as a barrier in between your faces, you’d expected it to act as more of a buffer than it did. 

“Baekhyun?”

When he heard you call him, his eyes opened and he turned his head toward the sound of your voice; the shift in his eyes was stark and breathtaking and he blinked them closed and then very slowly he opened his eyes again for you. 

“Hmm?” His lips stayed closed when he hummed a response.

What exactly were you going for here? The mood was set. The lighting and the scenery were in place. Hell, even the position of him was set —him laying beside you on the floor in the middle of the night like this when everyone knew it was much too late to be entertaining any of this nonsense. The longer you looked at him the more shades of pink you saw in his cheeks. The pinkness matched his lips and the lighting made every bit of warm flush on his face tell such a romantic story. He looked so very warm and inviting. 

You took a shot and you said it. If the picture came out well, that would be rewarding enough. 

But, you didn't actually expect a real sexy look. Not really. You’d expected something silly, or something goofy or something with an awkward smile. Maybe it was the nighttime, or the way he unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt and just let it hang open with the clear smoothness of his chest visible, but when he pulled his chin down and ran a hand through his styled hair, bringing it down just a little bit; giving it a messy and tousled look, you had to grip the camera tighter to keep from doing something dumb like accidentally dropping it. You could not understand the flash of nervousness you felt run through you. 

He lifted a single eyebrow. You had called him and it was clear from the inactivity in the camera that you weren’t taking any pictures of him. 

“Hmm?” He repeated the hum that came from the back of his throat. His eyebrow danced and it was the only movement on his face.

You inhaled a breath and you did it.

“You look incredibly sexy right now.” 

Despite the camera, despite the props you’d placed around him just so, his eyes seemed to seek out yours with purpose; one hand on the floor was within touching distance and the other hand rested over his forehead from when he’d ran it through his hair, the tips of his fingers landed over one of his eyes and it was so perfect. You felt goosebumps all over your skin.  

The moment his eyes locked into yours you gripped the camera as if your life depended on it. When his lips slowly parted with a gentle exhale and the tip of his tongue appeared between his parted lips and slowly touched against the corner of his bottom lip a surge of heat rose up the back of your throat. 

“I do?” He said with his eyes on yours as if he was looking directly at you; as if the camera did not even exist. 

You hit the button and you heard the shutter click. 

You allowed yourself a moment to look at the picture Mia had sent you. Only a moment though because she was talking again. She was instructing you to send a new picture right now, with your left hand holding your right earlobe. It was the kind of specific sort of picture that would prove that you really did exist. 

“Peanut,” you reached down and tapped his leg three times quickly, “Peanut, our new girlfriend wants a picture of you right now with your,” you held up your hands in front of your face, figuring out which was the left one, “left hand holding your right earlobe.” You held up your left hand for him to see and he pulled the phone down from his face to look at you. After a second his opposite hand was raised and he gripped his earlobe with his fingertips. 

“Is that your left hand?” You raised your left hand higher and lifted your eyebrows as you shook your head once. You felt a sense of urgency in getting this picture to Mia as fast as possible to calm her doubts. 

“It’s my left. My left is your right, stupid. Why do I have to do this?” 

You snapped the picture close enough that it would look like a selfie and sent the image to Mia. She was satisfied enough to send an emoji with heart eyes and you could feel victory at your fingertips. You could hardly believe this was working. 

“She thought you weren’t real.” You said in between messages and Baekhyun’s leg was shaking behind your back. He’d been sitting still for too long here and the nervous energy was building, you could feel it trying to escape from his limbs. He probably needed to go for a run or something or you were in for a long and noisy night of singing or dancing or whatever other shenanigans he thought you needed to suffer though. He hummed a non-response to your answer, clearly so distracted by what was happening on his screen that he couldn’t be bothered to give you any more of his attention right now. 

Baekhyun was not so quietly giggling under his breath and you looked up caught by that very particular sound of it. Something felt familiar in the sound of that giggle; more, the intentions behind it. The particular sneakiness of it maybe made you look up and it took you another second of listening to the way he stifled himself, tried to control the sounds of his laughter before a realization dawned and recognition struck you on the head. 

Baekhyun couldn’t have been giggling, laughing, texting, having a grand ol’ time on his phone because you had his phone in your hands. You had been talking to Mia for a whole damn hour, who in the hell was Baekhyun talking to and was that your phone he was using? 

“Baekhyun who are you talking to on my phone?”

His stomach bounced with stifled laugher below his shirt and he was typing again. His eyes secured on the screen of your phone and not at all looking at you. 

“Baek, who is that. What are you doing?” It wasn’t that you didn't trust him with your private conversations. He knew more about you than probably any other human being on the planet. It wasn't the problem with him knowing it. The problem was with that laughter. The problem was with what Byun Baekhyun might do with all of the things he knew about you and with whoever the hell had the misfortune of texting you at the exact moment when he had your phone.

“Ben,” Baekhyun said after a long pause and you searched through your recent memory for a person who had that name. You’d matched with some guys last week but you were certain there was no one with that name. 

“Ben? Who the hell is Ben? I don't know a Ben” You were leaning now and Baekhyun bent his legs up as soon as you moved, blocking your lean with his knobby knees. You leaned on the other side of them and he moved them to block again. 

The maneuver brought out the panic in you. He was blocking you from your own phone. He was up to something and he was now blocking you from reaching for your phone and you had just nearly murdered him in the kitchen over cheese, did he really want to do this again? 

“Give me my phone. Baek, who the shit is Ben?”

“I don't know. Some guy named Ben. Said he was some lady’s nephew or cousin or something. He knew your number and he knew your name, and wow he is—”

Oh god. Your co-worker Susie had done it. The son-of-a-bitch had actually given your phone number out this time even though you had successfully, you’d thought, dodged their high pressure tactics to set you up with some eligible bachelor who would probably be 10 years too old for you, balding, with bad teeth, or bad habits, or would be obsessed with his car or his muscles or some sports team and you’d have to make nice small talk with someone who’s interests, frankly, bored you to death until you could politely let the man down. 

And now, what was Baekhyun telling him? What kinds of horrific lies was this little gremlin giggling about over there. You tilted and reached for him again and he moved his knees again. 

“Bug, how- how do you spell hemorrhoids? Hem—hem—er—roids, no that’s not right. Let me look it up. It’s important that I represent you well. A strong, intelligent woman who can talk about her hemorrhoids.” 

You leaped then, over the stupid knees you flew and you landed hard — seated across his belly and the pained grunt he let out was satisfying to hear. He doubled up in pain while simultaneously shoving your phone underneath himself into the softness of the couch cushions and you watched it disappear somewhere below his butt where he assumed you would not dare to reach. 

“Baekhyun,” you said in as calm a voice as you could pry from your lips. Your teeth gritted together as you spoke and much of the sweetness was lost in the delivery.

Your hands were feeling the softness of the cushions that he laid on. You followed an arm that went down and disappeared behind his back and your fingers traveled to the end where you felt no phone at all, only his empty hand that you pulled up. You did the same on the other side, moving to the other hand and bringing it back empty too. On his face he wore a smug, self-satisfied smile. 

“Peanut,” your next attempt at a compromise pulled his name out in a sweeter tone and his lips turned up into a mischievous grin with teeth bared and all. To your own ears though, you really laid it on thick. This was your darling Peanut. You let your whine come through and you pulled your lips into a pouty frown.

“Bug,” he said, mimicking your overly saccharine tone with a tiny lift of an eyebrow on his face and a fake frown that didn’t touch the rabid joy in his eyes.

“Give me back my phone,” you said and your hands dug into his ribs hard as he reached for your wrists and quickly grabbed to hold you still with both of his free hands before you could do any actual damage to him. 

You struggled against his strong hands, reaching with out-stretched fingers despite his hold on you for a few more tickles before he tightened the grip and you could not connect any more attacks. 

“Give me back my phone,” he giggled back, again mocking your ineffective attempts to overpower him. You simply couldn’t do it. He was much stronger than you were.  

The childishness of this brat! You closed your eyes up tight as you forced yourself to take a deep calming breath. You could feel close to the edge again. Close to losing control. How many murder attempts did you need to commit today? Maybe you needed to enroll in anger management classes. You tried to count to ten again but gave up halfway through to threaten him again. 

“I’m going to get mad, give me my phone.” The friendly tone you had forced was gone and you could hear the actual anger in your voice now. Any reasonable person would concede. Any normal human adult would laugh it off playfully, say ‘okay, okay, I was only kidding’ and hand the thing over. A normal person would even apologize for taking it in the first place. 

Baekhyun was not a normal person.

“Ohhh, I’m going to get mad,” you heard him say in that same mocking voice and no amount of calming breaths could touch it. You could count to ten thousand and still want to destroy him. You squirmed all over and pulled at your wrists that he held in his grip and his hold tightened the more you moved until you could only lean, you could only fight back with one thing. The more you fought him, the tighter his muscles constricted and it became evident that you simply could not win this way. Your hands were useless to you. Only your head was free. You’d have to use it to your advantage, but how? 

You could headbutt him; break his nose. Break your head. Make both of you take a trip to the hospital during a global pandemic. Catch the dreaded disease. Lose your sense of taste and smell and potentially infect someone vulnerable that you loved. 

He was like a cat. Only interested in playing with something until it was dead and then losing interest after he couldn’t torture it anymore. You couldn't simply play dead. He had you trapped and you needed that phone back. 

You could bite him. Break the skin. Mean business for real. Make him bleed and make him cry. Make him pay for all of it. Give him a nasty scar on his hand, or on his neck or on his chest, maybe rip off his earlobe like Tyson did to Holyfield. Send him to the hospital during a global pandemic. Go to prison for assault charges. Get a nasty infection from a prison tattoo. Die.

Your struggle for a plan made you go physically still and you looked at his face; into his eyes and in those eyes sat all the usual bullshit and toddler behavior that you usually saw when he had latched on to something to tease you with, something he could play with and have fun with at your expense. Something he could exploit. 

You could use your mouth. 

You could use your lips.

You could use your tongue. 

What is this? Some sort of trashy rom-com? Would you really stoop so low, so early in the story? Kiss him to distract him, become a walking, talking, kissing cliché and an unoriginal failure of a human being? Get scolded and told to leave his home. Become homeless during a global pandemic. Without high speed internet access, lose your easy breezy data entry job. Get hungry and get cold. Possibly end up selling a kidney on the black market to make ends meet. Get a nasty infection from the shady surgery. Die. 

No. This wasn’t a cheesy romance story. This was your life. You’d have to live with the consequences of your choices and there was no way you would steal his first kiss just to get petty revenge.

This wasn’t enemies-to-lovers, this a violent revenge plot and you were pissed off god-dammit. How dare this idiot get you into such a compromising, such an undignified, such a frustratingly suggestive position and hold you captive like this. 

How dare he still be smiling through your entire inner monologue?

Didn't he know anything at all about women and the powers they possessed in their bodies? 

He flinched visibly when you dropped down; lowered your chest to his chest and you were face to face with the man. Your quick movement startled him and he loosened the grip around your wrists enough for you to rotate them before he tightened his hold again and watched you with wide eyes. That grin finally, finally fell from his mouth. His lips sat down-turned and pink. He’d gone positively pink with your quick movement. Your plan to move into him instead of struggling to get away clearly startled him. You felt the advantage at once. 

When you moved again it was only your eyeballs and it was to look pointedly at his lips before you pulled your eyes back up to look into his eyes. The slow movement made a bold statement, even to someone as clueless as he was. You were on top of him. He could most definitely feel the entirety of your weight on his body and your breasts were flush against his chest. And now, you had just looked down at his pink lips. 

Whatever steady and in-control breathing he had, stuttered and his body below yours went rigid with his eyes wide; obviously unsure of what you were about to do and much too on edge to take his eyes off of you. 

What became clear as you stared at his flushed face up close was that he had not thought this far ahead in his plan.

He probably didn't even have one to begin with. 

You moved closer to him and his hands released their hold on you again. You heard a gasp for air when his hand let go. You weren’t convinced he let go on purpose. There seemed to be a disconnected look inside his eyes right now. 

Instead of going straight for his earlobe and squeezing the shit out of it to teach him a lesson, you kept this going. You could not help it. You felt drunk on your own power and you didn't actually want to hurt him. You just wanted the damn phone so you could see what damage he had already done and begin cleaning up the messes. 

He swallowed and his lips opened to speak.

“W-What are you doing?” 

Nervous and trembling and uncertain; oh he was all of the above. Your free hand was moving now, traveling down the length of his arm to his flank when he moved again, this move felt much more frantic than the last. He grabbed your wrist more gently than before when you got close enough to touch him and he pulled your hand back. A feeble attempt it seemed, made by a man who had just come to his senses again after being in a daze. 

You leaned in. “Peanut,” you said directly into the space below his ear. You could smell him here. He smelled nice. Clean, and vaguely familiar. You remembered your shampoo that he still had and made a mental note to get it back from him. The scent of it on him was different than on you. The breath you took at his neck definitely smelled different. 

He was frozen stiff and when you pulled up to look at his face, his eyes were closed. He swallowed again and you reveled in the realization that you had not heard a single peep out of him since you began your counter-attack. Not a giggle, not a mocking laugh. Not a silly impression of what your voice sounded like to him. He was as quiet as a mouse. It paid to be pro-active. You felt free, as if you’d just been armed with some new very effective weapon that you had no idea would work so well. 

He had your hand again and was pulling — keeping you from reaching below his body to reach where you were certain your phone was stashed. Right here below his left butt cheek. Maybe even inside his back pocket. Either way it was there and you were centimeters away from it. 

So you went in again. This time it was a whisper. This time you went too far. You felt the softness of his neck brush against your bottom lip.

“Give it to me, while I am still being nice.” 

It was the exhale from your lips after you spoke that seemed to do it. The puff of air from your parted lips that drifted over his ear and warmed his neck, you felt him squirm below you and his hands moved releasing you all over and all at once. 

He was going now. He was leaving. You felt it happening below you. 

It was a tactic you’d used before when he tried to grab a hold of you and throw you onto your bed, or when he tried to wrestle something away from you in the kitchen. 

He went boneless. When you did it he would shout and laugh and lose his grip on you and you’d use the distraction to drop to the floor and roll out of his grip in one motion. It was much more difficult for him to do right now, being directly under you on the couch like this, but somehow he was vanishing fast. 

He moved so quickly it was like he melted from beneath you and he was pushing you off at the same time as he rolled, simply rolled from the sofa down onto the floor below in a single motion of retreat. 

You know that was where he went because you heard the rough thump of his body hitting the floor hard and you heard the grunt as he vocalized the pain of gravity having it’s final say. You were pushed with a force that made you roll onto your butt and below your legs you felt the rectangle of plastic and glass of your cell phone. 

He was moving fast. But he was also talking as he did it. 

“You are mean,” was what he said and he was halfway through the living room by the time you registered his complaint. 

Something about his fit irked you though. Was it such a big deal — so out of the question? Did he hate the idea of you kissing him, even if on accident that he had to overreact like this. 

“Oh settle down, It’s not like I was going to actually kiss you, Baekhyun.”

You’d expected to hear his bedroom door slam shut but he’d stopped with his hand on his door and turned his face in your direction. His expression was odd. 

Baekhyun was rarely upset with you, so you had very little experience with what he looked like when he was. He had been upset with others around you, but it wasn’t ever directed at you.

“I know you weren’t.” 

You could see it from where you sat and it made you stand up. Wait, was he really upset? At you? Because you pretended like you were going to steal his first kiss? Because you took something so precious to him and weaponized it against him? 

He was breathing hard and you took a step in his direction. 

“Baek, I was just—” 

“—trying to get your phone, I know.” His voice was cold and his words were short.

You suddenly felt like absolute shit. It moved fast and it overwhelmed you. You’d made a mistake and Baekhyun was upset at you. You’d acted carelessly and thoughtlessly and you’d hurt him. 

“We...we were playing around, I was just playing around, I didn’t mean it, Peanut. I’m sorry.” You could not help the thickness in your voice. You could not help how your voice cracked as you spoke up quickly, needing to get the apology out into the air before he could misunderstand any further. 

Before he could wake up and realize how low of a person you could be when you really set your mind to it. Before he could understand that maybe you didn't deserve so many chances to get your life together and get a better job, or be a better roommate, or make more money and pay more rent, or delete your facebook, or create better passwords. 

You realized you were crying when the wetness dripped down your chin and landed on your arm and as soon as you noticed you lifted both of your hands up to cover your face — before he saw, before he noticed or heard. You held your breath to keep from hiccupping or making any sort of sound at all and you closed your eyes and tried to stop the quiet gasps. 

You succeeded for the most part. 

It was the smell of him though. You did not notice that he moved, but you smelled him again, only this time it came with a warmth that enveloped you where you stood.  

“I’m not mad at you,” he whispered over your head and you inhaled through the snot that filled your nose, unable to get any air through. You gasped through your mouth instead and hiccupped through the breath. 

“You seemed mad at me,” you said into his shirt, the same shirt you’d cried into hours ago. This shirt would have so much of your messes on it by the end of the day. What in the world had gotten into you today? Maybe you were going to start your period soon. This was getting ridiculous. 

His hands rubbed slow and steady circles over your back and until the gasping stopped enough for you to lift your head and look into his face. 

“I’m not,” he said with more conviction the second time and you almost believed it. Had it not been for the strange way his eyes dropped yours so easily you would have. 

You didn't say that though. 

His lips parted once and his eyes grasped yours in that flimsy way again and his lips closed up again as he swallowed it away and didn’t say what he was about to say. 

You shook your head. He had to tell you. Whatever it was, you could work on it, do some self reflecting, or read some self help books. 

“What is it? Tell me.” Your insistence was desperate and his damn eyes refused to stick. It was making you crazy the more you noticed it. 

His mouth opened again and this time he inhaled deep enough to speak for hours and hours. 

“Peanut, what?” 

“Don't—” he began and you closed your mouth and looked into his face, dipping to catch them when his eyes dropped again and again. He noticed the dance you did and you saw the light dance inside his eyes. 

“Don't what? I’ll do it. Or I won’t do it. Whatever, just tell me.” If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking to this man. You could always pull it out. Whatever he had been sitting on, keeping from you, whatever he had deep down inside that was begging to be let out. You could talk to him. He could talk to you. It’s as part of the magic you shared with him. 

“Peanut,” you said again, refusing to let him close up again, refusing to let this go. He had to say his piece for the upset to move behind you both, so you could get past it. 

“Don't use your beauty as a weapon against me.” 

As soon as the words left so did his eyes, but that did not matter because you could not look into his face anymore after he said it either. 

Your…beauty?

Baekhyun didn’t look at you and see beauty. Impossible. You were a mess. Some days you showered. Some days you did your hair. These two events rarely happened on the same day. 

Outside you could pull off some-what put-together and even downright attractive when you wore the miracle bust enhancing bra you bought off some shady website he definitely told you not to enter any credit card info into, but inside you felt like a circus clown wearing a respectable young woman suit. Every day you worked to stuff the oversized shoes into your feet and struggled to zip them up. Every day you painted over your honking red nose with concealer in the hopes that it wouldn’t rain today and give you away. 

“It’s really shitty and really unfair to do to me.” He kept talking and you felt like maybe the ceiling had caved in on you. “I know who I am. I know my place and I know what league I am in.”

He said the word league with a whisper and you stared at his mouth as he spoke such nonsense words you hardly had any thoughts that made any sense inside of your own head. 

League? He was such an amazing person, but league? You’d heard some serious bullshit come out of his mouth in the past, but this? Seriously? 

He was a genius. He was beautiful inside and out and he was such a good person, a good person to you, a good person to his grandmother, a good person to his online friends. He was so good at whatever he wanted to do and he was really fucking sweet when he wasn’t being ridiculous. And even when he was being ridiculous it was so funny you usually didn't mind the ear deafening noise involved. He was a great dancer and an even better singer and he had so much to offer. 

He was shy. He was terribly embarrassed and debilitatingly nervous at the mere idea of talking to any other girl that wasn’t you and he took a whole lot of warming up to until he opened up to you even, but when he finally did, after tiptoeing around him for 4 months after you’d moved in and he finally grabbed a bowl of popcorn and sat beside you on the couch to watch lifetime movies with you, making fun of the writing and the acting the entire time until he was making fun of you for crying at the happy ending. 

He was reliable too. He refused to even entertain the idea of you moving out just because you could no longer afford the previously agreed upon rent after you lost your job. He searched for something to hold you over until you could get back on your feet and while the data entry thing was mind numbing, it was genuinely saving your life most days. You could at least pay your bills. You could at least force him to accept the much lower rent you started paying him again after you got your first paycheck. 

Oh god. League? 

You could feel it building again. The burning in your eyes peaked and you felt your face frowning down dramatically and the tears were flowing more freely than before. 

“You’re such an idiot.” You cried openly and his face changed at once into one of extreme concern. His hands waved over you uselessly, occasionally connecting to pat over your back in some attempt to stop this. 

“You are such a catch, you stupid idiot!” You were wailing very loudly. You could not help it. He was such an idiot. And he was such a catch. 

“Oh my god, are you yelling at me right now? After everything you’ve done to me today, now you are yelling at me and calling me names. Great. Just Great. Here, my face doesn’t hurt, why don't you punch me in the face too.” 

The sarcasm made you half laugh half choke in the middle of a particularly strong sob and you coughed with your mouth open to be able to breathe. Your nose was still useless. 

“Jesus,” he said to himself, “my mouth was open.” 

You were being steered. Your eyes were still closed and you were pushed now. You didn't really want to move but your stubborn legs saved you by taking a step instead of letting you fall flat on your face. You opened your eyes when you felt a fresh cold breeze against the wet surface of your cheeks and you saw in front of you the contents of the freezer. 

There were some frozen veggies. Some ice in a bin. Something meat-like in a freezer bag. And about six different boxes of various ice creams. Most of them chocolate. 

“Get one,” he said and his hand was pushing your elbow up and steering your hand toward the open box of chocolate popsicles. 

You grabbed with your open hand and he pulled your elbow back like you were a claw machine and he was working the lever. 

You grasped the popsicle between both of your hands with a small smile building against your will. 

“Eat it,” he said from behind your head and you were already ripping at the plastic wrapper. You didn’t even have a chance to throw away the wrapper when his hand was pushing at your elbow again. It bent upward and the chocolate plopped right into your open mouth. 

“Bite,” he said. 

You bit. He didn't have to tell you to chew and swallow. You knew how to do the rest. 

After the ice cream you were seated on the sofa next to him and he pulled out a portable game system to keep him entertained while he pressed play on the movie he’d put on the big tv on the wall. 

It was Bridget Jones's Diary. You had seen it enough times to know the entire movie by heart and still, still you laughed at every joke, swooned at every steamy look, and squealed like a piglet at every kiss scene. It literally did not get old. You could fall asleep and wake up watching this movie for the rest of your life and be as happy as ever. 

After he’d felt you’d been babied enough for him to trust you not to dissolve into a fit of disaster without him, he left you alone to finish your movie. He said something about a bug he was working on fixing and you could hear him working from behind his closed door in his room. 

He had been quiet as he worked. He usually was, save for the occasional song he sang along to, or work sounding phone call he took. 

The credits were rolling on your happy ending and you could feel the beginnings of the first few period cramps twinging inside of your abdomen. 

Everything made sense now, as it usually did whenever your period began. 

You’d just stood to head toward the kitchen for some pain medicine when Baekhyun’s bedroom door was abruptly pulled open.  

He bolted through the doorway and his phone was in his hands, his eyes were wide. Panic was written all over his face as he searched the room for you and finally made eye contact with you in the kitchen. 

You had a bottle of pain reliever in one hand and another popsicle in your other and you were trying to figure out the logistics of getting the bottle of medicine open without having to put the sticky melty treat down anywhere and things weren’t going so well. Things were getting drippy. 

Baekhyun arrived then and you beamed a wide and genuinely happy to see him smile. He would help you. He would open the pills. He would stuff you full of them to stop the pain. 

At this point you didn't even care how many. You’d take however many the Gods decided to shake free from their plastic prison. 

“Help,” he said, walking by the medicine you held out to him with his phone displayed in his hands. “Help me, she...our girlfriend, Maya, she—”

You gasped at his mispronunciation and you lifted your popsicle hand toward his face as you made the sounds with your mouth, “Mia. Like Mee-uh.”

“Mia, Maya, Moira, She is — she is talking to me.” His eyes were wide and they were crazed. 

“She’s saying things and she’s really fucking smart and clever and she’s saying things to me, Bug. She’s, oh god, -the fuck didn't you tell me she was cute. Fuck. You have to help me. She thinks I’m cute too. Oh God. What do I do? What’s next?”

He was breathless when he was done and both of your hands were still full. Your popsicle was beginning to drip down your wrist. You would have to clean it up before you got ants. You still had some medicine to take too. 

He was pacing. He thought she was cute too, it wasn’t just you who thought so. He said it himself. Although he reacted this way with nearly every girl you had seen him interact with. Hell, just last week he made you answer the door for the delivery chicken because the girl was cute and he wasn’t about to scribble his signature all over her hand by accident. 

“Baekhyun, I already laid the groundwork for you.” Maybe the day was finally catching up to you but you felt suddenly very tired and in no mood to play make-believe with him right now. 

“What does that mean?” His face betrayed his utter cluelessness and you sighed deeply, feeling much of the same melancholy mood return to you despite the chocolate and your favorite movie still fresh on your tongue. “What does that mean? I don't know what to do. You were going to help me.” 

He was right. You shouldn’t just abandon a friend in need like you’d abandoned the popsicle in the trash can just now. 

“You have a new episode of your show to watch. She also likes that show. Why don't you stream it together?” 

His eyes lit up and his smile was wide and beautiful. Then he was spinning on his heels without even so much as a glance back. He typed into his phone and had nearly reached the door of his bedroom without even acknowledging your help when at the last minute you caught the look he shot you. It was a bright smile. He was excited and his smile reached his eyes. 

“She said yes,” he said, “thanks, Bug.”

His door closed and you reached for the bottle of pills. Grabbing just two today, you downed them quickly and retreated to your room with a gloomy, lonely, little storm cloud floating stubbornly over your head. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4

Tag list: @j-pping @blahblahblah-boo @his-mochi-cheeks @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13 @baekinmylife @insta1010 @nana-banana @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff​​  @byunbabybaek​​  @beg0neth0t420

[peter-parcoeur]

Good girl gone bad | (frat!tom)

request: How about frat cocky Tom at a Christmas party, wearing something that shows off his muscles, and he keeps flirting with y/n, who hates him. Throughout the night, he slowly wins her over, and once he has her in the palm of his hand, he makes her compliment him and then worship his muscles and then get on her knees and suck on him through his boxer briefs and then finally he f*cks her face and he's dirty talking and boasting all the way through :)

disclaimer: Hiii, so this was a request (sadly anonymous but if you’re out there reading this, I hope you enjoy and this lives up to your expectations...) this is my first attempt at fratboy!tom so I apologize in advance if that’s not exactly what you expected from it or whatever. Also I’m french so, some unfortunate spelling mistakes may occur and for this I apologize too! (damn I do really know how to sell myself, don’t I?) Anyway, enjoy your reading and please give it a ♥ if you liked it and a comment if you either really liked or hated it. Annnnd I’m talking too much.

warnings: smut smut smutty smut is to be expected, obviously. includes: brat!tom, braggy!tom, boasting!tom and some serious potty mouth / enemies to lovers (well, more like enemies to fuckbuddies idk) / oral-sex / face-fuck / dirtyDIRTY talk/ fingering / brief mentions of self luuuuvin (that’s masturbation, for you) / dom!tom + sub!reader / I guess a little bit of humiliation and praise kink idk if that’s triggering so just in case... / roughness... I guess that’s it? probably enough already.

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« Come on, it’ll be fun! God knows you could really use some fun… » your friend’s voice almost begged over the phone as you safely locked it between your cheek and your shoulder to open the door to your dorm room, your keyrings grazing the piece of metal surrounding the lock with a soft, clicking noise.

“Yeah cause hanging out with complete morons as they get shit-faced on cheap vodka is totally my idea of a good night...”

“ Urghhhh, Y/N please, are you really gonna be a Grinch about it?”

“  Well, it’s a Christmas party so I guess that’s convenient?”

You could tell your friend was getting frustrated by now, the slight change of tone in her voice making her sound desperate. Kicking off your shoes and dropping your books above the mess on your desk, you immediately crashed onto your bed with a loud, exhausted groan as this never-ending day had managed to push every single one of your buttons. You felt completely drained and yet, your best-friend wanted you to join her to some frat-house where, apparently, the “most incredible” Christmas party was about to be held? Uh-uh. No way. Your actual plan for a Friday night (= eating take-out food in front of some true crime documentary on Netflix) seemed much more appealing than the effort your friend seemed to require from you.

“You’re really gonna bail on me? What if something happens to me?”

“Now this is guilt pressure and you’re so much better than this! “ You laughed, “plus… I know you wanna go just so you can make out with Harrison… You really don’t need me for this and truth be told, I really don’t need to see that guy shove his tongue down your throat!”

“Maybe YOU need someone to shove his tongue down your throat “

“I’ll pass, thanks “

“Come on, how long has it been since you’ve got laid? “

“That’s… way beside the point?””

Still, you thought about it.

How long has it been, really?

Well. As far as you could remember, there were a couple (disastrous) tinder dates at the beginning of the semester. Nothing major even though the sex was still okay. Then you had decided to delete the app so you could focus on your studies, thinking that, eventually, life would grant you with an actual IRL, cute boy who could actually work a little harder to get into your pants whereas it had taken a single swipe on a screen for the previous contestants.

But for now, as the semester had come to an end and Christmas break was around the corner, it only occurred to you just how busy you had been, studying all night long and running on fumes and gallons of coffee. Maybe your friend was right. Maybe you truly needed to blow off some steam. Sometimes you wished you were more like her, carefree and less picky when it came to boys and random flings. Like her current crush, Harrison.

Harrison was a typical heartthrob with the face of a Greek God, so it was only natural for him to act like a brat and play with girls as he wished. With his piercing blue eyes and dreamy smile, girls could only wish he would look at them twice. But still, he wasn’t the worst part of Team Jackass, as you liked to call them. Their captain was actually Tom Holland. Football Quarterback, Tom collected girls’ hearts like trophies and held his pride within his questionable reputation. Party animal, heavy drinker and confirmed exhibitionist since he’d been caught fucking a cheerleader in the middle of the football field right after a game, his name was on everyone’s lips, whether they whispered gossips down the faculty’s corridor or muffled into a pillow as he dived into another naïve, besotted girl with the promise of an encore. To this day, all of the girls he had laid his eyes on were still waiting for a call-back.

You pulled a disgusted face at the thought of witnessing his little hunting game one more time. Tom was actually one of the main reasons why you usually skipped any frat party now. There were just so much time you could waste, sipping on some funky tasting “home-made” punch as “Football superstar” Tom Holland bragged about his athletic skills or how many girls he had fucked over the last couple days. Sometimes, it felt like a competition between him and his brain-dead friends. Somehow, you just knew he kept score of his one-night stands. Maybe he’d give you five stars for trying anal, a deep throat would give you another six and god forbid if you flattered his enormous, gigantic cock, well then, by all means, the throne would be yours. There was just something about him that screamed and irradiated praise kink.

“Y/N? Have I lost you?”

Your friend’s voice brought you back to reality as you seemed to have blacked out for a while.

Then, out of nowhere and unexpectedly, the words came out of your mouth.

“What time is the party then?”

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For every party, there’s a dress code.

Surely, a “Christmas” party just couldn’t be, without a fair splash of colorful jumpers or any subtle hints at Santa Clause as an excuse for a last-minute theme. Still, standing in front of what could only be Wednesday Addams’ wardrobe, you were suddenly hit by your lack of interest for any piece of clothes that wasn’t a shade between black and white. Was beige even a color anyway?

For a brief second, you considered wearing your infamous Christmas onesie, basically a fluffy one piece with a zipper, an oversized hood and covered with snowflakes and candy canes. The jokes would never end but no one could blame you for being ‘off theme’, then.

In the end, you settled for a rare “colorful” top which, luckily, happened to be whatever shade of green Christmas trees actually were. It was also skin tight and you knew for a fact it made your chest looks twice its size because of the way the velvet fabric enhanced your waistline. It was nowhere near provocative with its long sleeves and turtle-neck so you figured you could be a little bit more risky with the bottom part of your outfit, grabbing the black mini-skirt you’d bought a week before on a splurge, even though you didn’t know if you’d ever find the confidence to pull it off. It was short, there was no denying that as you turned around in the shop’s fitting room to catch a glimpse at your backside, knowing your whole ass would be exposed if you ever dared to bend down even so slightly.

Still, you felt sexy in it and as a girl who happily traded a sexy dress for yoga pants and an oversized hoodie, any piece of clothes that made you feel good about yourself was an instant buy.

Looking down at your final outfit as it laid down on your bed, a pair of nice ankle boots at the bottom of it, you patted yourself on the back for making the extra effort and walked to the bathroom for a well-deserved boiling shower.  Staring at your reflection in the mirror above the sink, you sighed to yourself as the aftermath of a sleep deprived week and lack of skin care routine or basic maintenance whatsoever hit you like a truck on the highway. Your hair had been wrapped into the same messy bun for days and it would definitely take some professional skills to cover up the bags under your eyes.

Maybe this party was the wake-up call you needed, the equivalent of a Judging look from your mother every time you visited her after a while. You could almost hear her complain about how unhealthy you looked and how you should wear more “flattering” clothes. Ironically, you also knew she would never approve the skirt you intended to wear that night. You remembered just too well that frown she’d given you at your father’s 60th birthday and how you had to gulp an entire bottle of red wine to forget about the fact the woman who gave birth to you had called you a prostitute for wearing a dress above the knees. Sometimes it’d be like that. Family gathering were like a plague, somehow, you just couldn’t escape it and it would either scar you for life or make you wish you were dead.

As you entered the cubicle, the coldness of the tiles hit you, covering your skin with goosebumps and sending shivers down your spine. It took you a couple minutes to adjust as you waited for the water to turn hot enough to coat the mirror with a thick foggy layer. Only then did you relax, letting go of this week’s emotionally charged weight upon your shoulders and focusing on yourself, at last.

It was a fairly long shower as you decided to go through your entire haircare routine instead of a brief, one minute shampoo. Not to mention the fact you also had to shave entirely as it felt like it would be a good way to get rid of this nightmare of a semester, like stepping out of your old skin and into a new one. Usually, body hair was probably too far down the list of your preoccupations to even be noticed but you figured, as you felt surprisingly motivated, now was the right time to make your body smooth as a baby. You actually loved the feeling of a soft, freshly shaved skin.

As you rinsed off the soap, your hands fondling the body parts water failed to reach, your mind unexpectedly wandered through some steamy thoughts as soon as your fingertips grazed your slit, taking some shy dip between your folds. It was no surprise that a simple, barely there stroke would instantly strike your arousal, after all, it had been a while. You shamelessly admitted that your studies had taken over your life, up to the point you’d even find yourself too exhausted for some self-love. Somewhere in your chest of drawers, the small collection of adult toys you owned were probably collecting dust in the middle of your socks and panties, wondering when they’d get to take a swim and make you squirm into your sheets as you hold on to the headboard, biting your lip until it turns white so you don’t scream through climax.

What struck you the most was the fact TomfuckingHolland came to your mind the very second your middle finger met your clit, circling it softly as you felt electricity spark through your legs, making it jolt. Why the hell was his stupid smug splattered all over your unspeakable thoughts when he was, by far, the last man on Earth you’d let come close to your naked self? Let alone in a shower cubicle the size of a shoe-box where you’d have no space whatsoever to escape his heavy, muscular chest.

His body looked ridiculously built for a man with the face of a 13 year-old. Sometimes you’d catch him randomly flex throughout the day, showing off his enormous biceps to anyone willing to praise his impeccable shape. There would be no room for these guns in there, you thought as a brief image of these massive arms shielding you from both side, fists tight against the tiles, came immediately to your mind. What took you by surprise wasn’t to actually picture Tom standing in there with you, naked and definitely willing to make that room a lot steamier, but the fact you slipped a finger into your surprisingly dripping core as soon as you imagined him stepping closer so your bare, sticky chests would meet, his obvious arousal poking at your inner thigh, begging to make an entrance.

You stopped before you inevitably came, even though your body craved for that well-deserved relief. You may have been hornier than you thought, but not nearly horny enough to hand your first orgasm in months on a silver plate to a boy who probably stroked himself in front of a mirror on a daily basis. Your thighs squeezed together where your fingers had left a desperate void, rinsing your entire body with a much colder water, hoping it would bring your sanity back.

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You looked incredible.

It wasn’t just you boosting your ego through a pep talk in front of your mirror back in your dorm this time, and even if you loved to give yourself an encouraging speech, praising whatever features you thought made the cut in the top three of your best assets as you gathered the strength to go out in public in an outfit pretty far from your comfort zone, nothing could ever beat the look people gave you as you walked into the frat house looking like a three courses meal. There was just something about that short time slot where you caught a gaze and knew what that look was all about.

You knew Liza, the head student with a soft spot for athletes so obvious she probably had the entire football team’s handprints tattooed on her skin, just hated to see you get the attention she usually caught. Athletes loved nerdy, smart-ass girls like her, but to her own despair, you actually happened to be one of those, only with a shorter skirt and thicker thighs.

You knew half of Team Jackass was already staring at you, wishing they’d catch a glimpse of whatever you had to offer underneath that impeccable outfit as the soft fabric of your skirt kept rising up, every step bringing you closer to an unfortunate peek at the plain, white cotton undies you had chosen to wear that night.

But above anything, you could most definitely feel someone’s gaze upon you, burning up your skin like lasers trying to scan through your clothes. Suddenly, you felt exposed and with a simple smirk, Tom-Holland came out, strong as ever, just so he could pop out the comforting bubble you had built around you. Of course, he had chosen to wear the tightest white tee-shirt so everyone could distinctively see each of his six, rock-hard abs. Of course, his sleeves were slightly rolled up to enhance his biceps and if you weren’t familiar with his despicable behavior, seeing him flex just so he could kiss the pumped-up mount irrupting from his upper arm like a fresh batch of popcorn on a stove, you could have barfed immediately at the disgusting sight of a man with an ego the size of a fucking comet.

For now, you simply rolled your eyes all the way to the back of your head and watched as he smiled cockily, his hand reaching out for a redhead girl’s cheek even though his eyes were most definitely undressing you from afar. You could tell the girl had dressed to impress as she was tightly wrapped into the just-slutty-enough version of Santa’s outfit. Basically a velvet red dress with a fluffy white strap on top of her bustier. The way she laughed and twirled her long curly strand of hair as she gazed lovingly at Tom was enough for you to know she would soon join the never-ending list of names on his score board.

Shaking your head at how easy it seemed for him to get laid within the first hour of a party, you made your way to the kitchen where the alcohol seemed to be. As expected, most students were already sipping at some questionable cocktail right from the bowl with a straw and since you didn’t feel like going straight for the strong stuff, you settled for a beer, fiddling with the bottle cap for a solid minute before you heard a voice coming from behind your back.

“Need some hand with that, sweetheart?”

The cocky tone and thick accent immediately sent you off as a long, single shiver ran down your spine from the disgusting thoughts it brought along. It had come to the point you couldn’t even stand his stupid voice.

“I’m fine, thanks” you lied, your first still tightly gripped on your sealed beverage.

“You look like you could use some strength…”

Of course, he had to bring up his impressive, spectacular strength within seconds. Maybe he expected you to slow clap, bow down or throw confetti’s all over him for being strong enough to open a beer bottle. What on Earth would you do without his strong, manly hands?

Grinding your teeth as your tongue clicked against your palate out of pure annoyance, you gave him the most unimpressed look as he grabbed the bottle from your hand, popping out the cap hard enough to make it fly off and hit the table with a soft, metallic thump. Smirking to himself, Tom handed you the bottle back, tilting his head as he obviously expected some enthusiastic reaction.

“Do you want a medal or something?”

“A simple ‘thank you’ would be a good start? “He mocked, raising his eyebrows in a way that made your consider throwing the entire bottle at his face to wash away his stupid cockiness.

“Thanks” you simply blurted out, raising your beer slightly before walking away as you took a couple sips. It wasn’t even that cold or remotely good.

Tom watched as you walked away in silence, his eyes inevitably drawn to the way your hips and that glorious ass of yours seemed to wiggle into that daunting skirt. Grazing his thumb over his bottom lip with a smirk, the eager flame in his eyes made his will to take you to a quiet place grow bigger with each step you took.

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The music was getting considerably louder as people were now dancing all over the place, from the staircase to whatever was left of furniture after too many parties hosted in this house.  The constant buzzing sound of chit-chats and laughter was slowly making your head spin as you gulped on your third (or was it the fourth?) Shot of tequila. As expected, Y/BFF/N had wasted no time as she was already clinging to Harrison’s neck, feasting on his mouth like an open buffet. His hands were on her bum, holding on to it for dear life with a strong grip. At least, she was having fun.

Out of boredom and to your own surprise, you had agreed on doing shots with a couple people you knew from class. Not technically what you’d call reliable friends but you always bumped into them at parties where you’d basically chat, and drink. From afar, you could see some people had gathered around a table where Team Jackass had started the inevitable beer pong contest. Nibbling at a piece of lime, hoping it would wash away the burning haze of the tequila, you winced at the sourness as your eyes suddenly locked with Tom’s. He was now holding his arms up on both side, raising one fist through the air as he had clearly won that first round. There was something pathetic about a man in his twenties begging for attention and acting like he was about to claim the gold medal at the Olympics when all he did was throw a feather-weighted plastic ball into a red cup.

All the alcohol in the world would never get you drunk enough to tolerate this guy.

Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think it was a shame to see him act so pitiful when he face was actually okay. Well. He was definitely cute as long as his mouth was shut and his stupid, pretentious smug out of the way. With his soft, chocolate brown eyes, his tousled eyebrows and thin pink lips, he could’ve been a guy you’d be interested in. His brown hair was somehow, always tucked into a snapback or a beanie but you had caught a glimpse of his natural curls once and though it killed you on the inside to admit it, he did look great when he didn’t try too hard to be a complete asshole.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t see him walk towards you.

“We’re doing shots now? “

“Impressive” you frowned, “did you figure it out all by yourself?” you chuckled, swallowing what’s left of lime, basically pulp, in one soft gulp.

“You like to act all smart ass around me, don’t you?”

“Correction: I am, in fact, smart… Not that it’s something you’re familiar with so, pardon me if it’s all too confusing for you… “

“Are you calling me dumb, then?” he was frowning now, his enormous self-centered head deflating under the unexpected pressure of your witty come-back.

“Did you hear the word ‘dumb’ coming out of my mouth?”

“No – but I sure know what I would like to see come in that sweet mouth of yours, darling”

The fact he had the nerves to say that kind of stuff right to your face was enough to piss you off but what caught you off guard was his hand reaching for your face as his thumb delicately grazed your bottom lip, pulling at it just enough for you to taste his fingertip.

“Surely, lime isn’t the only thing you like to suck on?” he smiled, cocky as ever as you could feel actual rage building up from your core and all the way to the back of your throat.

“I suggest you keep your hands off me” you snapped, pushing his hand off your face as he laughed to himself, the raspy sound caught in his throat making you throb against all odds.

“Or what? What you gonna do about it, uh?” he teased, confident as ever, his words coming out of his mouth halfway between a threat and a challenge. His arms were crossed against his chest now, making every inch of muscle he owned just pop out. There was nothing sweet about the way his body was built, and was he ever given the occasion, you knew he could break your spine in half with his one hand. You just wished you’d never thought about it as the filthiest images came to your mind, starting with Tom spinning you around over the sink in the bathroom and pinning you down with his palm pressed between your shoulder blades as he pounded hard and fast into you.

Maybe Tequila had gotten to your head faster than you expected.

“I know girls like you” he started, walking backwards until your back hit the wall and you were completely trapped between his arms, one of his leg parting yours so his knee would slowly graze that spot where your thighs met, claiming his access to that precious part of your body you could definitely feel getting damper against your will.

“What about it?” you asked, slightly more provocative than you had intended.

“You like to act all innocent, pretending you have higher standards…” His breath was warm, wrapped into the thickness of alcohol, curving a ball at the back of his throat so his voice would come out raspier and lower than usual, “… but secretly you just want guys like me to fuck the back of your throat until you choke”.

You felt it. Your pussy throb at the single thought of it. You didn’t want to physically react to these obscene images, words coming out of his mouth filthier than anything you’d ever heard, but still, as hard as you wanted to remain cold and unbothered, there was no denying for the dampness between your thighs. You just hoped he wouldn’t get a chance to notice it.

“You disgust me” it took you all the strength you had to spat back at him, and even then, all he did was smile then chuckle softly to himself as his hand slid up your throat, wrapping it slowly until his thumb pressed itself into the crook under your chin, nesting as it was made to be there.

“Please—are you really going to pretend you’ve never thought about my cock filling up your pretty mouth?” his fingers found your lips again, tracing it slowly as your heartbeat increased with each word, “like you’ve never thought about me when you finger yourself at night” he paused, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth as he tilted his head, his mouth coming closer to your hear with a dark whisper “I know you do, baby… I know you touch yourself thinking of me, wishing those fingers were mine, diving into your dripping cunt… Touching spots you could only wish you’d reach… how I would spread those lips open and run my tongue all over your slit….” A warm breeze brushed your neck as a cursed laugh escaped his lips, making you squirm unexpectedly, “I bet you taste so sweet, I would never get enough of that glorious pussy…”

By now, you were wrapped into the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It was strong and manly as expected, yet comforting in a way you didn’t want to think about. You didn’t want to picture yourself wearing that grey hoodie he loved to wear after a game, his perfume raining over your bare chest as you’d lazily ride him on his dorm bed after you’d get bored of whatever movie you’d settled for, pushing your panties to the side as he couldn’t be bothered taking it off completely. You didn’t want to picture him unzipping that same hoodie, palming your boob with one of his strong hands as his mouth sucked on your nipple until your soft, delicate skin turned red from all the biting marks. You didn’t want to feel yourself stretch around his rock-hard cock as he’d lift your legs up to wrap it around his neck, because he’s that kind of jerk who likes to show off even when he’s completely buried inside of you, that kind of complete asshole who loves to remind you just how deep he can go, smirking to himself as he hits your special spot over and over and over…. until you beg for him to stop. That kind of utterly disgusting dickhead who’d never stop, because he knows that, deep down, you just want him to keep going.

“Now you can tell me you’re not already wet… But we both know that’s a lie” he smiled again and as you felt his hand going down, palming you through your top and all the way down to the front of your skirt, you finally decided to come to your senses and grabbed his wrist into your tight fist, stopping him just in time before he’s reached the only approval he truly needed.

“Go to hell, Holland” you snapped, using all of your strength to push him off and walk away.

You didn’t turn back to see him chuckle at the sight of your flushed face.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The coldness of water came as a shock as you bent over the sink in the bathroom, splashing your face until it didn’t feel like your skin was on fire. Grabbing a towel, you patted your cheeks and forehead, staring at the reflection in front of you. You definitely looked flustered, like you had just run a marathon when all you really did was to suffer through your archenemy’s evil little game.

Usually, you would have just brushed it off and that’d be it. But tonight, for some reason, you just couldn’t seem to shake him off your thoughts, his voice still echoing through your head like a curse without a cure. Outside the bathroom, you could hear the muffled sound of music and screams coming from the living room as beer-pong had turned into strip-pong with everyone removing a piece of clothes every time the ball missed the cup. Typical, drunken behavior. Soon enough these parties would turn into a massive orgy and it wouldn’t even come out as a big surprise.

Freshen up a little had helped you settle your thoughts back into place but still, your body didn’t seem to catch a break as the build-up tension and frustration Tom had caused within your core was yet to be released. There was no denying that your toys would have come handy if you were back to your dorm room as it felt like your pussy kept clenching for no reason, like the gaping mouth of the thirstiest man in the middle of a drought. You knew how bad you needed to put it out of its misery but if you thought undressing for a ping pong game was bad, what would happen if anyone walked on you literally fingering yourself in the bathroom of a frat-house? No one would shut up about it.

Tom would certainly not. Shut. Up. About. It. Ever.

You pressed your thighs together, hoping for some sort of relief as his words came back haunting you, thinking about how your hand had found its way between your legs earlier in the shower, the very second you had thought about his body pushing you up against the tiles. Is that what he was to you, now? A fantasy? Would you become another disgusting cliché of a girl begging for the typical frat boy to fuck her at a party because she couldn’t handle his dirty mouth?

Then you thought about your best-friend and how the last time you’d seen her, she was heading upstairs with Harrison, giggling, her lipstick smudged all over her chin after making out heavily on the couch up to the point everyone was starting to wonder whether they should be charged for that kind of peep-show or just roll with it. How she was probably getting fucked in his bedroom while you were standing alone in a bathroom, dripping wet for a man you hated down to the very bottom of your guts.

The door swung open abruptly, making you jump.

“So that’s where you’ve been hiding!” Tom smiled, walking in.

“Can’t a girl have some privacy?”

“I need to take a piss, you’re the one standing out there doing nothing” he joked, walking to the toilets with his hands already fiddling with the zipper of his pants.

“Hum, excuse me?” you spat, widening your eyes as you realized he was genuinely about to use the toilets with you still standing a few meters away.

“I said I needed to take a piss… So either you just stand there watching, which I don’t mind really… or you can get out?” he pointed his chin towards the door, unbothered as he casually pulled his dick out of his boxers.

Both infuriated and shocked, you turned around as there was no point leaving the room now that his whole junk was out and already halfway through it.

“Do you have to be that disgusting? Really you’re such a pig!” you complained as you heard him sigh with relief before the toilet flush broke the most awkward silence of your entire existence.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll clean it up real nice just for you…” he smiled even though you still had your back turned to him. You heard him use the tap, washing his hands for a considerably long amount of time. At least he wasn’t one of those filthy rats who thought basic hygiene was optional.

“What were you doing by the way?” he finally asked, grabbing the towel to your left, “touching yourself thinking about me?”

You turned around to face his cocky face once more, this time with a furious need to slap it. Hard.

“You know I’ve seen you walking around campus a couple times, Y/N… Those big jumpers and yoga pants you like to wear don’t do that body any justice, but this?” he circled his finger in the air, pointing out her entire outfit “this, I like to see… and if you weren’t being a little brat I would gladly pull up that skirt up to your waist and have you there, above the sink…”

“I’m being a brat?” you scoffed. That was rich, coming from the ultimate king of bratty assholes.

“Well you call it whatever you like but denying yourself something you truly need just to prove a point seems a little childish…” he shrugged, shoving his hands into this jeans pocket and giving you a perfect glimpse at the veins running up his arms and disappearing underneath his rolled up sleeves.

“You think all girls are begging for you to fuck them? Really?”

“Probably, yeah, and who could blame them really? I have a great cock and I’ve never had a single bad review about the way I use it…” he smiled, with the arrogance of a king sitting on a throne of indecency.

“You’re so full of yourself… it’s insane” you shook your head with pure disgust.

“Then go ahead and prove it”

“Prove what, exactly?”

“That you’re not dripping wet as we speak…”

Point taken.

You were, indeed, dripping wet and soon enough, you’d have some serious explaining to do as the thin cotton fabric of your underwear was now soaked with your unsolicited arousal. Even though your head was filled with hateful thoughts and resentment for Tom, it felt like your body would not stop begging for his touch, dragging him closer like two pieces of magnets on a fridge. Unconsciously, you were now standing a couple inch away from his face, so close you could actually smell the soft mixt of menthol and alcohol from his breath. There was no point denying the obvious tension between you two as you looked like you were about to break into a passionate kiss but now it was just a fight between your will for self-preservation and your body, aching to be touched.

And so you heard yourself say these words you never thought you’d say, like you were standing in the audience as your other self was performing on stage, making some questionable decisions you weren’t 100% okay with.

“Which one’s your bedroom?”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You could have fought longer, for the sake of your personal values, but as your feet were swiped off the ground, your back hitting the door as it closed behind you with a loud slam, all of your good sense and respectable choices just vanished as much filthier thoughts buried them for good.

Your legs were wrapped around his waist as his hands had wasted no time and found their way under your top, fondling your breast with the hunger of a wolf. Your lips attached to his, you moaned louder than expected as he pushed himself a little harder against you, the obvious stiffness of his crotch pressing against your aching core. Your skirt had risen up to your waist from spreading your legs a little too wide, flashing your white panties as it was now so soaked you could definitely see the outline of your lips, the thin fabric sticking to your slit. Catching your breath, heavy pants breaking your kiss, you looked into Tom’s eyes only to see nothing but pure, absolute lust in them. As you tugged at his brown locks, a couple strand curling slightly at the back of his neck, you watched as his snapback fell to the floor with a thump, unleashing his brown untamed mane.

Suddenly, he didn’t seem so bad, groaning slightly as your fingers scrapped the back of his neck, your lips sucking on his throat for good measures. With his head tilted back slightly, it felt like Tom was getting soft for a while, caving in so you could take control over him. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long as he suddenly traced a hand all the way down to your inner thigh, immediately pushing your panties to the side with his middle finger.

“I knew it…” he smiled, sliding his finger along your slit as you wrapped it up with a glistening coat of arousal. You knew he had won the minute he felt just how wet you were for him, but when it should have been upsetting, you just didn’t care. All you needed now was to feel his cock filling you up in any way he wanted, “who made you this wet, darling?” he smiled, pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth.

“Don’t be a brat…” you complained as you could see some mischief in the way he looked at you.

“Just say it” he insisted “I want to hear you say out loud just how wet I make you” this wasn’t a request, but an order. And for some obscure reason you didn’t want to figure out, it somehow turned you on even more.

“You…” you started, biting your lip out of nerves, or out of excitement, you weren’t sure quite yet. “You make me so wet, Tom” you almost moaned, pushing yourself a little harder against his hand when he failed to give you exactly what you needed. His fingers. Buried deep inside of you.

“Hmm” Tom groaned, two of his digits spreading your lips apart at a torturing slow pace, “I like the sound of that…” his knuckles were barely halfway when you buckled your hips off the door, begging for more, “what’s that darling? Tell me what you want…” he was whispering by now, slowly pushing his fingers into your desperate slit, “I want to hear you beg for it…”

You felt him push deeper, curving his fingers into a hook every time he reached your g-spot. By now you were so aroused you just knew it would take you more than a couple stroke to cum heavily into his awaiting palm. You could hear the sloppy sound of your own wetness every time he slammed his slick, extremely skilled digits back into your throbbing pussy. His lips curved into a hasty smile as he could feel you literally drip all over his palm and wrist.

“I want you… I want you so much” you barely managed to whimper as he increased the pace, his wrist working its magic between your thighs.

“Hmm hmm? I’m gonna need you to be more specific baby… what exactly do you want?” his thumb grazed your clit for a brief second and that was enough for you to squeal under his touch, making you clench suddenly around his fingers, “say you want my cock” he almost growled as you felt his hard-on twitch against your thigh, begging to be freed.

“I want your cock” you immediately wimped, your own words sending shivers down your spine as you twitched with anticipation, “I want it so, so bad…”

“Good girl…” he hummed, slowing down the pace so he could add a third finger, stretching you out slightly this time, “d’you think you can take it though? It’s pretty big…” he smiled, twisting his hand just enough so he could dig himself a path.

You simply nodded, unable to speak anymore, but as you were about to beg for more, Tom removed his hand, leaving you frustrated and hornier than ever. His face changed suddenly as he watched you pout, his hand reaching up for your lips.

“What about that pretty mouth, then? You think it may fit?” he smiled, spreading your lips apart so you could taste yourself on his soaked fingers. You immediately obliged, sucking at it, one by one, never keeping your eyes off him. When he shoved three of his digits, watching as your tongue twirled around it, cleaning it off completely, you could definitely tell his eyes had gotten darker, filled with unspeakable thoughts you would be begging to hear soon.

“You’re gonna let me fuck that pretty face?” he added, removing his fingers from your mouth so he could give you a soft, cheeky slap on the cheek. You nodded, obedient as ever. “Say it” he commanded, louder this time, “say you want my cock inside your mouth”.

“I want it… I want your cock inside my mouth” you pouted, only because you knew he loved to see you beg like a spoiled little princess. You’d seen it in his eyes, the way he looked at you every time you tilted your head to fake an innocence that was long gone.

Tom stepped back, walking away slowly as he watched you standing there, flustered, your hair all over the place, panting out of lust and frustration. Pulling his shirt off, you watched as his impressive chest unveiled in front of you. Abs like rocks, a thin strand of hair tracing a path from his navel to his crotch, disappearing under his jeans, his impeccable V-line bringing images you never thought you had within yourself. As he pushed his hair back, daunting you with his a look half way between arrogance and disdain, it felt like all signs of dignity had left your brain as all you could think about was to crawl to the floor and beg for his cock.

“What you’re waiting for then, Darling?” he smiled, unzipping his flies as he watched you walk towards him and get on your knees within seconds.

Your hands pulled at his jeans until it finally pooled around his ankles. Looking up to stare into his eyes, you felt both small and powerful, submissive but in control as you were now responsible for this man pleasure. It was up to you whether he’ll get to cum or not. But as you considered edging him as an option, Tom wasted no time in remembering you who was actually in charge.

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he sighed, grabbing your hair into a fist as his other hand stroked his cock through the cotton fabric of his boxers. You could tell he was just horny as you were as a couple pre-cum had already stained his briefs, turning it into a darker shade of grey.

Again, you nodded, removing his hand so you could replace it with yours, palming him through his briefs as he growled against your touch. He was big. Actually much bigger than you expected but somehow, you were up for a challenge. Tracing the outline of his cock with your fingers tips, you felt him push his hands on the back of your head, forcing you to come closer to his crotch.

“I want to fuck your pretty little mouth so, so bad” he groaned as you unexpectedly ran your tongue all over his stiff through the fabric, feeling it twitch as you palmed his balls. By now he was so hard you could feel the veins tracing a dirty road up to his leaking head as Tom started grinding slowly against your mouth, messing up your hair with his desperate fists.

When you pulled down his boxers, you took a couple seconds to stare at his glorious manhood, hard and pressed against his abdomen where it curved slightly, your mouth watering with a thirst you could have never pictured, especially when standing in Tom Holland’s bedroom. And yet, you couldn’t wait to have this magnificent piece of flesh filling up your mouth.

“Like what you see?” Tom smirked, boasting as ever but immediately squinting his eyes with a deep growl the minute he felt your tongue licking at the base, slowly going up until you finally bobbed on his creaming head.

You had always been good at this, giving head. Not that all of your partners would give you a proper review in the morning, pointing out your highs and lows, but there were just things men couldn’t do, like hiding the fact they were just having the time of their lives. And right now, Tom actually looked like there was nowhere else in the world he would rather be than standing here, with his cock in your mouth.

Twirling your hand at the base where you mouth couldn’t go just yet, you started bobbing up and down his shaft, sucking your cheeks in so your mouth would pop every time his dick came out. You had quickly figured out a couple things about Tom, including the fact he just seemed to love it dirty and noisy. You could actually hear him growl louder, his fist tightening its grip into your hair every time he slipped off your lips, only for him to shove it back a little harder and definitely deeper with each thrust.

“That’s it baby… Just like that… you’re such a good girl…”

You were a good girl, indeed. Always had been. Straight-A’s student from day one, the pride and joy of your parents, spending most of your week-ends doing some volunteer work whenever it was needed while being a caring, polite girl who never did anything wrong. Right choices only.

Or so you thought. Obviously, tonight would be always marked as the only questionable decision on your impeccable path to perfection. But still, as Tom grabbed your face with both hands to push himself deeper and all the way down your throat, making you gasp for air slightly, you had no regrets.

You stayed still for as long as your lungs could handle it, holding on to his firm, muscular buttocks as you swallowed him all. Looking down on you, Tom was left speechless as his cock stretched your cheeks out, his balls resting into your palm as you twitched them slowly, making it jolt with both pain and pleasure. When you felt like you were about to gag, you pushed yourself back, gasping for air as you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. Your cheeks felt numb and yet it missed the feeling of being stretched out already.

“Hmmm baby look at you…. you think you’re ready for it?”

“Yeah” was all you could blurt out. Yes to anything he wanted. You were prepared. You longed for it.

Looking around as Tom started pumping himself, getting ready for you, spitting into his palm to lube himself up so your lips wouldn’t drag along his shaft too much, you just couldn’t believe you were there, kneeling on the navy carpet of Tom Holland’s bedroom, the epitome of the ultimate frat boy. A huge flag from his favorite sports team was hanging above his bed, his never-ending hats collection sitting on wooden shelves by the wall like it was some kind of “frat boy starter pack” Art exhibition. In the corner of the room, you caught an unexpected glimpse at a guitar. It looked fairly new, but never in a million years would you have pictured Tom playing guitar. On his desk, his laptop was still open on a Spotify tab where you’d probably find a playlist based on some typical white boy rap music but against all odds, the room looked neat compared to what you had in mind.

“You look so beautiful” he sighed, out of nowhere, and to be completely honest, had your mouth not been filled with his dick, you would have probably picked up your jaw from the floor. Taking him all in once more, you just pretended you couldn’t hear, sparing you some awkward misunderstanding. Maybe those words were actually directed to his dick. After all, the boy loved himself just that much.

His hands were all over your face, wiping tears from your eyes every time he hit the back of your throat a little too hard, stroking your cheeks, massaging the back of your neck, roaming through your tangled hair as your kept up with his reckless pace, his hips swinging back and forth while you remained completely still so you could take him like a champ.

“God, I love to see you choke on my cock….” He gritted through his teeth “so…so hot…” you could tell he was getting sloppier now, pumping in and out of your mouth abruptly then a lot more slower as a couple twitch from his cock gave you a hint of his upcoming grand finale.

By now, you were a slippery mess, the taste of pre-cum hitting your throat as you dribbled all over his shaft, obscene sounds of suction coming out of your mouth every time he pushed himself out and back in all over again.

“F----uuuuck….fuck baby I’m gonna come!” he grunted, the sudden high-pitch of his broken voice driving you insane as you pushed yourself up a little so you could open your mouth wider, expecting him to fill it up soon enough. “D’you want me to cum in your mouth? Uh?” again, he gave you a little slap on the cheek, not quite hard enough for you to feel any pain. You nodded, moaning whatever came close to a “yes” as every single inch of your mouth was filled with Tom.

You heard him whimper, twitching a couple times, harder with his thrust as his hand fisted into your hair abruptly throughout his climax. Looking up to see his face, your eyes locked with his as he came all over your tongue, raining down your throat with a couple last, sloppy thrusts.

“Oh fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuuu------“

Your eyes immediately teared up as you tried your best to swallow every drop of cum he had to give, the corner of your lips dripping like an overflowing sink.

Then there was a complete silence.

As you wiped your mouth off the thick, warmness of his cum, you felt him kneel to your side, then sit. Both of you looked completely exhausted, drained from every ounce of energy you had left.

“Well, that wasn’t half bad… for a little brat” he spoke again, and you just couldn’t believe he had gathered the energy to say this when he could have chosen silence.

Laughing quietly to yourself so you wouldn’t slap him across the face, you decided not to fuel him up and remained quiet instead. His hair had gone curlier than heaver, his glistening red face making him look like any cute boy you could easily fall for.

“I’ve got a feeling we’re gonna see a lot more of you at frat parties now?” he spoke again, and though it truly pissed you off to admit it, you just knew this wasn’t a one-time thing. For all you knew, this, was barely a prequel to a long, bumpy story of a good girl gone bad.

All because of Tom-fucking-Holland.

[mercy-burning]

Losing You Twice / Prologue: Silence

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: On New Year’s Day, Y/N attempts a new chapter of her life but finds it may be harder than she thought... Category: Angst Content Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, implied masturbation (female) Word Count: 1,343

SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

NOTE: AHHHH the prologue is finally out!! I’m so excited to start sharing this story with you guys, I adore this album with my whole heart and I just knew I had to use it as inspiration for a fic. I hope you all enjoy reading it!!

***

“I know that I should let go, should be letting you go. Can’t postpone it, not anymore, when I know what I already know: What I need is silence. All I need is time and space and silence. Cut communication ‘cause I’m trying to learn that I can lose you and survive it.” —FLETCHER, Silence

JANUARY 1st

Even though the snow outside was falling rather heavily, Y/N left the window open, a bitter chill drafting through her bedroom and settling into every nook and cranny, which included the closet where she was currently sitting on the floor, a glass of wine in hand and pictures laid neatly across the wood.

As her eyes grazed over every scrap of paper, mostly polaroid photos and little hand-written notes he'd left her over the years, the constant ticking of the clock back in her bedroom wouldn't stop.

Realistically it was probably the wine, enhancing her ability to focus on nothing else except the most menial, annoying little things. But she was thoroughly (and maybe a little drunkenly) convinced it was actually Time itself, taunting her— every constant click of the clock screaming at her as if to say, "You! Fucked! Up! He! Hates! You! Now! You're! Pathetic!"

The happy memories scattered about in front of her certainly didn't help. His face kept staring back at her, each lovesick gaze spewing even harsher words than the clock. Just by seeing his face glinting back at her under the harsh white light of the closet, all she could hear in her head above the noise was that one single sentence that's haunted her since Christmas.

"You don't actually give a shit about me, Y/N, you only ever care about yourself, and it's been that way ever since I met you!"

No matter how greatly she professed to him that that wasn't true, he walked out on her all the same, not giving her a chance to explain further. Though, he always took the time to listen to her, so his words coupled with the slamming of the door landed her with the impression that maybe she'd only said it in her head.

After all, she was half drunk on tequila at the time, the other half of her mind swimming with sadness and regret.

Maybe she hadn't fought for him to stay like she thought... Or maybe at this point he was simply done trying to make it work, done with hearing her half-assed promises to get better at communicating, and done with her...

It bothered her immensely that she didn't know.

And when he wouldn't even pick up the phone to answer when she wanted to ask, when she texted him and each one went promptly ignored, she felt like the answer was finally clear.

Now it was New Year's Day, just about ten minutes past midnight after Y/N opened the window, poured herself a glass of wine, and started sorting through everything in the closet. She'd went in with the intention of starting anew, like practically everyone did during the New Year. Though the longer she sat there, sipping the wine and staring back at pictures and notes that only reminded her of the one good thing she'd ever known and inadvertently thrown away, the experience was less cleansing and more daunting.

Everything was loud.

The click of the clock, and the howling of the wind outside as it blew snowflakes around in a near-blizzard, and the constant screaming of every word she wished she'd said before he left...

It was all too much.

So Y/N downed the rest of her wine, threw all the pictures and notes back in their box, and shoved it deep in the back where the memories couldn't hurt her anymore, at least in theory.

But as she crawled into bed, the clock now sitting in the kitchen with no batteries, she was reminded that there was one form of memory that she couldn't shove in a closet and hide away.

She drifted off, the sharp chill from the winter wind still lingering on her skin even after the window had been shut and she'd bundled herself up under the covers.

Even in dreams, it transported her to the night before Christmas, when she walked with him across town, looking at all the lights and finding themselves underneath a large tree. He took her gloved hand and placed it firmly on his chest as she looked up at him, snowflakes sticking to her eyelashes. She admired how pretty he was surrounded by white snow and colorful lights, his cheeks and nose painted a soft pink from the cold.

"I love you, Y/N," he said with every intention of hearing her say it back.

But for some reason, she didn't. Instead, she leaned up and kissed him, hard, nearly knocking him to the ground. And even though she was happy and warm, it was the first time she thought she'd ever felt him not kiss her back with the same fervor.

That should have been her first clue that things were going to decline, but she was so caught up in the feel of his lips against hers, no matter how distant they were, that she couldn't really bring herself to care. After all, it was Christmas Eve, and nothing bad could ever happen to their relationship during the happiest time of the year...

But this was a dream, and now Y/N knew better. She stood there, watching the scene unfold in front of her, screaming for herself to say it back, to yell, "I love you too, Spencer!"

But again, this was a dream— No matter how loudly Y/N yelled at her former self, nothing would change what happened in the past.

She woke up the next morning, cold and alone, and surrounded in silence. Not even the soft clicking of the clock was there to keep her company.

But that's what she wanted in the first place, and if she was ever going to get through this—to move on with her life without him at her side—then she was going to have to get used to it.

And so her phone sat nicely on her bedside table as she grabbed a random selection of clothes and headed to the shower. Maybe the water would wash away some more of the major remnants of his being from her body. Maybe she finally wouldn't be able to feel the ghost of his hands roaming her skin and tangling in her hair...

It worked for almost the whole day, and then she laid back in bed that night, her hand dipped beneath her underwear and eyes closed tightly. She hadn't meant for him to creep into her mind, but it made sense that it would have happened eventually— When your relationship with someone was built almost solely on sex, it seemed inevitable.

No one else had made her feel the way he did... He took such care and precision with her body, drew out every possible second of pleasure until she was out of her mind, and in turn she showered him with praise and loud shouts of his name. Spencer... Spencer!

"Spencer!"

She opened her eyes, hand retreating from her body as quickly as possible as she tried to blink away his image. Her breathing steadied, though a long, exhausted sigh fell from her lips almost as easily as his name.

It obviously wasn't going to be easy, but damn it if she didn't want to give up already and find him the way she always did after a fight.

This wasn't just a fight, though. And as she laid in bed, her thumb hovering over his name in her phone, something stirred in her chest that signaled a bad idea. Not that bad ideas ever stopped her before... But now?

It didn't feel right.

Nothing about any of this felt right. And she didn't know what to do about it other than shutting the phone off and tossing it to the side, snapping her eyes shut and huffing like a child while she tried not to cry.

Plain and simple, heartbreak was brutal. Especially when you were the one to blame.

And that sentiment was the sharp twist of the knife in Y/N's gut, plaguing her as she willed herself to fall asleep.

“It’s like a crutch, see if you’re up. 4am but I like a rush, so I’ll go into your bed, my safety net. Cheaper than a therapy vent, yeah, I know...”

***

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I’m tagging my permanent taglist in this prologue only, so if you want to be notified when I post more from this series, send me a message or leave me a comment, and I’ll add you! Thank you :)

[captainjimothycarter]

Fitz is that scientist who has one preferred rat that's his tiny buddy with some very dumb name, Simmons protests. Simmons who swears they're for science only okay, just because she isn't dissecting them on the regular doesn't mean their science rats they have designations not names, but every single person on the ship knows the names of all those damn rats that the get called in secret.

First off, YES THIS IS ADORABLE. They would absolutely name their rats in secret, but like secrets, it tends to get out. I tried sticking with monkey names because that would be so Fitz.

Second, I'm sorry if this is rushed.

--

“We are not naming them!”

Jemma rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time in the span of this ten-minute argument. She was going around in circles with Fitz and she was losing it.

“But-”

“But nothing, Fitz. They’re rats. We’re scientists. We can’t name them. If we name them we get attached. We get attached, we can’t experiment on them with-with things that can save our friend's lives!”

Fitz’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout, rubbing his hand over the stubble growing in over the last few weeks of them being cooped up in their lab. He glanced between her and the five white rats in the cage. He was particularly fond of the one in his hands, the only one with a little black dot on the tip of his nose.

Jemma’s shoulders sagged and Fitz tried to hide his smile as he ran his thumb over the rat’s body. He knew that look, she was giving in.

“Alright,” she finally sighed, pinching her nose. “You can name them. But tell no one. Not even Daisy. Just remember, Fitz, they’re for experiments, not pets.”

“You said the same about Gerald!” Fitz countered, rolling his eyes as he placed the rat back in the cage.

“Gerald was a drone! He stood for-”

“I know what he stood for, Jemma. I helped name him. I’m just saying, you can get attached to our first drone but I can’t get attached to rats?”

Jemma couldn’t help herself, patting Fitz’s cheek and leaning in to barely brush her lips over the corner of his lips. The deed made him still and his face flushed.

“Exactly. Now, I already know you named them,” she sighed, giving him a small smile as she resolved herself to his fate. “Tell me them.”

She adored Fitz’s face lighting up, pulling each rat out of the cage to explain their names and how you can tell them apart. There was Abu, who had the black spot on his nose. Marcel at the two brown ears. Snowflake was pure white, save for the very tip of her tail was black. Tangerine had almost orange color eyes. Clever had only three paws but was smarter than the rest of them. Lastly, there was Princess, the one with a black spot on the top of her head that looked like a crown.

Listening to Fitz going on and on about their names, how smart they were, and it's fine if they name them. They needed names, not numbers. They were part of their family, Jemma realized something.

She loved this man with all of her heart and it was hard to tell him no, not when he got this excited over naming rats.

“We won’t tell anyone,” Fitz promised, kissing Princess on the nose. “I know they’re just rats but when you’re by yourself down here, you need someone to talk to.”

“Alright,” Jemma laughed, shaking her head. Fitz had won her over, he knew it too. “Alright, just don’t let anyone find out that we named them. We can’t have this experiment taken away. I’m going to bed. You clean up. Marcel just tore up your paper.”

She laughed at Fitz’s groan, kissing her cheek before handling the mess Marcel was making.

--

“Was it...Princess?” Daisy asked, swirling her vodka around in the bottle. “It was Princess, right?”

“Nope, Drink,” Hunter drunkenly laughed. “It’s Clever. That’s the one missing the paw. She bit me right on the nose earlier today.”

“Well you did pick her up wrong,” Daisy countered, swallowing the last of what was in the bottle. “Alright, then. Which one has the tipped tail?”

“What are you two doing?”

Daisy’s neck craned to look over her shoulder, waving the empty bottle in Mack’s direction. “Nooothing.”

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” came Jemma’s response, frowning at their caged rats sitting on the table between the two agents. “What’s this about?”

“Fitz asked us to babysit Snowflake, uh Tangerine, uh…” Hunter frowned, rubbing his head. “I can’t remember the rest.”

“What are you going on about? They’re not named, they’re Rat 1, 2-”

Jemma stopped at Mack’s amused look, his hand patting her backside. “Jemma, stop. We know you two named them. Fitz was talking to them the other day when you were asleep. Plus, he keeps a list on him so he always knows their name. It’s adorable.”

Jemma groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “No one was supposed to find out.”

“It’s okay,” Daisy giggled. “I think they’re cute. We won’t tell anyone. Besides, Tangerine likes Hunter. Keeps cuddling up to him.”

[wannabe-fic-writer]

All Over Again - Chapter 4

Summary: What was lost can be found. 

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence. 

I was in the holiday spirit so I wrote this chapter. Kind of just filler stuff and LOTS of fluff. Enjoy!

Ch. 3

* * * * * *

“Awe, look at you in your fall colors.” You tease.

Wanda laughs, eyes on something ahead of her before she focuses on you,“ Laura gave me the scarf. I didn’t realize how cold it’d be today.”

You find your eyes looking at the window of your hotel,“ is it snowing there?”

Instead of answering, she flips the camera and you see the mix of leaves and snowflakes falling.

As beautiful as National City is, you admit you miss the weather in New York. The snow and leaves falling added to the holiday spirit. The white and shades of red screamed Thanksgiving. 

“You could always come back, at least for the day.” Your friend says, the camera turning back.

With a shake of your head, you tell her,“ I’d never make it back in time. Besides, Lena insisted I spend the day with her.” 

The brunette wiggles her eyebrows playfully. Only for her jaw to drop at the expression on your face.“ Oh my god you like her!”

“What? No.” You try to play it off with a laugh.

Good ole Wanda though, she can read you like a book(without the powers).“ That’s why you were so eager to go back to NC. You have a crush!”

“No I-” do you?

The idea isn’t far fetched. Lena’s an incredibly attractive woman. Intelligent, caring, ambitious, funny, genuine. But you have far too much going on with your emotions to even consider liking someone. Right? 

Were you not just telling Natasha how much it sucks to see her with Bruce? How could you go from hating to see that to suddenly liking someone? Is that really how your emotions are choosing to work?

Escaping the onslaught of thoughts, you find Wanda smirking at you.“ You like her.” She says with a nod and smile. 

“Doesn’t matter whether I do or not. There’s too much going on for me to be exploring something like that.”

She scoffs,“ yeah right. As we speak you’re on vacation. There’s no greater time to explore. And if you like her, you deserve to pursue it. If anyone should get a chance at happiness, it’s you.”

Damn. Could you have asked for a better best friend?

“Have I told you that you’re one of the few things I’m thankful for Wan?”

Blushing a little, she tells you,“ you hadn’t but I knew already. I’m thankful for you too, I-” a sudden swirl of emotions race through her eyes, red magic flickering with it,“ I don’t know what I would’ve done without you these last few years.”

“You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for, but I’m glad I could be there for you.”

It’s quiet on her end for a moment before she can pull a smile,“ love you Y/n, Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Love you too Wan and Happy Thanksgiving.”

With an over exaggerated kiss blown to the screen, Wanda hangs up, the lingering picture of her smiling face on your screen before it goes back to the generic wallpapered home screen.

You take a second to yourself, eyes trained on the city outside. 

There may not be any snow, but NC definitely has its own way of showing the holiday spirit. In that, a lot of the skyscrapers have large light displays on them. And where there are trees, the orange, red, and yellow leaves fell from them. 

Eventually, you get up to get ready. Taking a shower and putting on an outfit that reflects the season and holiday. 

Having everything you need, you call a car, waiting for it in the lobby with a cup of coffee. Once in the car, you let Lena know you’re on your way. 

It leaves you a little unnerved when she doesn’t reply as fast as usual. In fact she doesn’t reply at all but her doorman let’s you up so you know she’s home. 

When she pulls her door open and you take in her slightly frazzled state you frown.

“Should I have waited to come by? Is everything okay?” 

Lena’s heart melts at the worried expression on your face, a smile forming,“ no it’s fine I just, I forgot most restaurants are closed on Thanksgiving.”

A gasp leaves your lips,“ Miss Luthor,” you press a hand to your chest,“ take out is not a proper Thanksgiving meal.” 

Her mouth opens to reply but seeing your expression has her keeping it to herself. 

The few nights you’d spent here, you know Lena doesn’t keep her fridge and cupboards stocked.“ Come on, we’re going shopping.”

Lena will admit, she had a bit of a slow moment, wondering what shopping would do to solve the food issue. Arriving at the store though, she realizes you meant grocery shopping. 

Walking around the store with you pushing the cart is probably the most domestic thing Lena’s done in a long time. She finds herself falling in deeper with you as she sees how, almost childlike you are: riding on the cart every so often, throwing completely unnecessary snacks inside, and doing small little celebratory fist pumps when you find exactly what you need.

“Okay,” Lena breaks the quiet,“ are you secretly a chef outside of being an Avenger?” 

Currently the two of you stand in her kitchen, smooth jazz playing through the room’s speakers, Lena’s usual glass of wine on the counter mere inches from your glass of bourbon, as you prepare dinner. Admittedly Lena isn’t all that good at cooking, so she’s slightly fascinated with how easily you move about. 

You raise an eyebrow, fingers sprinkling seasoning over the Cornish Hens,“ what’d you mean?” 

“I just- you seem to be really good at this.” She gestures to you and the spread of food in front of you. 

Shrugging, you tell her,“ I just learned from my dad. He literally taught me everything I know.”

There goes that tone again. Your voice sounding far off. You reminiscing.

You slide the pan into the oven, setting a timer, and looking back with a smile, nodding for Lena to come over. 

She stands at your side, arms brushing with every move as you raise the lid off the skillet, steam rising from it,“ now don’t go sharing this recipe with anyone Miss Luthor.”

The CEO chuckles,“ well if it’s good I’ll have to capitalize on it.”

You laugh, eyes shutting with the action. So you miss the look Lena gives you, pride at being the reason you’re laughing and a longing to make that smile last.

From there you tell and show her the way you’d been taught to make yams: nutmeg, brown sugar, vanilla flavor, and butter. Then turning them over so the seasonings reach all the vegetables.

Grabbing a smaller spoon, you scoop some of it up, and hold it out to her. A hum of approval leaves Lena’s lips at the taste of it.

“That’s incredible.”

You watch the way her tongue runs over her lips, catching the remnants of the food, and resisting the urge to reach out and run your thumb across the pink muscle.

Opting to nod and jokingly say,” oh I know.”

She laughs with a shake of her head. 

It goes like that as you continue to cook. Once a dish is done, you give Lena a taste and she tells you how great it is. Until you’re setting it all out on the table in front of where Lena set out the plates and silverware. 

You both fix your plates and refill your drinks before sitting down.

“I’ll admit, this is a million times better than take out.”

While you hadn’t mentioned it before, you have to now,“ please tell me this isn’t the first time you’ve had a home cooked meal for Thanksgiving.”

The CEO shrugs, a sad smile covering her lips as she says,“ well I’ve spent the last two in my office.”

You raise your eyebrows,“ and before then?”

“Meals were made by the chefs. And holidays with my family were usually, well awkward. With the tension between myself and my mother and Lex’s silence. . .”

Reaching over, you cover her hand with yours,“ family can be tough. But from what I’ve seen it seems you have a decent one.”

The brunette looks at you quizzically. Did you not hear what she just said?

“Not the Luthors,” you clarify,“ I mean your chosen family. Kara, Alex, everyone else. They care a lot about you and you love them too.”

Lena smiles fondly at that. It’s true.“ And here I’ve yet to see your family, related and chosen.”

“As far as my given family goes, it’s just me and a few distant cousins. My mom was never around much and my dad passed years ago. Right after I’d graduated college actually.”

There’s the confirmation of her thoughts. Though she wishes it’d come at a different time. 

She tries to lighten the mood,“ chosen?”

“Also complicated,” you chuckle,“ there’s all kinds of dynamics going around with them but we have each other’s backs in the end. I’d give my life for everyone one of them.”

“Anyone in particular?” She finds herself having to ask.

Praying silently that there isn’t. At least not in the way she’s referring to.

You nod with a smile,“ Wanda. She’s my best friend. A sister really. We’ve been close since she joined the team.”

She smiles for two reasons. One: you’re single. Two: it’s cute that you have someone like that. 

Throughout dinner you both joke and talk about lighter topics. Despite the numerous looks you give each other, neither of you catch it. 

When dinner is over(and leftovers are put away) you tackle the dishes and then move to the living room with your dessert. 

“Okay, apple cheesecake. Never knew I needed it.” She says with a chuckle.

Your eyes widen in agreement,“ I know right. Apart from strawberry and classic New York, it’s my favorite.” 

“I’m going to need you to make both of those for me, for research purposes.” She adds the last bit with a wink.

Laughing makes you lean just a little closer and Lena loves it. A quiet buzzing grabs yours and Lena’s attention. 

The woman pulling her phone out.“ Speaking of desserts, my chosen family has an abundance of it and has invited us over.” 

“Ooo, yes, I love desserts.” 

She smiles at you in amusement and together you both get ready to leave, Lena insisting that you bring your cheesecake. 

Unsurprisingly, christmas music is all over the radio on the drive over. You can’t say you expect anything less. 

With Lena at your side, you knock on Kara’s door. The blonde pulling it open in seconds. 

“Lena, Y/n, hi.” She hugs the both of you excitedly. 

“Thank you for inviting us.” Lena tells her friend. 

Stepping into the apartment, without a thought, you’re helping Lena take her coat off as she’s holding your dessert in one hand. With a blush, she thanks you, and you miss the wiggle of Kara’s eyebrows in her direction. 

Mon-El throws a hi your way and everyone else does the same.“ Do I see more desserts?” He leaps up, happily making his way over.

You accept the quick handshake he gives before looking over your shoulder to the pan in Lena’s hands.“ Yeah, Lena says my cheesecake is to die for and it’d be a crime not to share it.” 

The CEO’s jaw drops,“ I did not-” her elbow nudges your arm with a laugh,“ I didn’t say all that.” 

Placing a hand on her shoulder you smile,“ but I could tell that’s what you really meant.”

“So cute.”

Your eyebrows pinch together at Kara’s mumbled words. You and Lena? Could she see your crush on the woman as clearly as Wanda had? Is it that obvious?

Figuring she didn’t intend for anyone to hear that, you refrain from commenting. Instead walking with Mon-El to the kitchen island. 

“I never asked but what is it that you do?” Mon-El asks, head tilting in a way you’d seen Kara do a number of times. 

You accept the glass of water he passes you,“ I’m a weapons specialist for the Avengers, occasionally moonlighting as a hero.”

“Me too.” His eyes widen as does yours. 

“You’re a superhero?” 

The man’s eyes widen, uncertainty flickering through his eyes as they search yours. Then he chuckles and nods,“ yeah. Super being Alien. I’m from Daxam.”

“Daxam.” You’d heard of plenty of planets, never that one.“ Where is Daxam? I’ve been to a few galaxies and planets, I’ve never heard of Daxam.”

He thinks for a moment,“ I’m not sure what galaxy it would be in but it orbited Rao.”

“Rao? Is that like another planet or a sun?” 

Suddenly Kara appears at Mon-El’s side,“ what’re we talking about?” 

You send a glance to Mon-El, wondering if Kara already knows. His nod and pursed lips tells you she does.“ Mon-El was just telling me about Daxam and the-”

“Star.”

“The star it orbits.” 

It’s hard to place the expression on Kara’s face. Mainly because it’s a mix of a few emotions.“ Are you not surprised?”

You shrug,“ I am, just, well I’ve dealt with a number of aliens. Not many of them were good guys.”

Mon-El smiles widely, a matching one on Kara’s face. Little did you know, hearing that from you makes the blonde consider telling you about her heroic alter-ego.

Before she can mention it though, Winn comes sliding over, arms wrapping around you. Looking at him, you see the silverware hanging from his mouth. 

Patting his shoulder, you pull back a little,“ hey buddy, what’s goin on?” 

“This cheesecake is amazing.” His words come out with a little lisp due to the object in his mouth but you laugh nonetheless.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Finally he steps back and nods.“ How bout you show me where the rest of these desserts are.”

Together the two of you step over to the dining table where there’s a decent amount of desserts. You just have to put some of each on your plate.

When you plop down beside Lena she’s already wearing an expression of amusement. Looking at her, you smile softly,“ want some?” Her look of uncertainty makes you chuckle. Scooping a piece of pie up, you hold it towards her. 

Hesitantly she leans in and eats the sweet. Your eyes once again drawn to the way she licks her lips then back to her green orbs. 

“That’s really good.” 

You quickly eat a bite,“ oh wow, it is.”

“So!” All eyes snap to Kara as she walks over with the guys,“ we did this earlier but a few of us weren’t here so we’re going to do it again.” The woman sits on the arm of Mon-El’s chair.“ What are you thankful for?” 

Starting with herself, it goes around the room, until it gets to you.“ I am thankful for old friends and new,” you smile at the already smiling people around you,“ I haven’t known you guys long but you all mean a lot to me and I’m incredibly grateful to have met you all.”

Not being able to help herself, Kara throws her arms around you. Which incites Winn to hug the both of you and that just ends in a big group hug that dissolves in laughter.

* * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15

[madlymiho]

Hellooo, 👋🏼 thank you for randomly selecting me, haha. :D May I request an Ace scenario, where he and fem! Reader are just having a chaotic snowball fight and then later, after getting just so tired out, go in for a nice warm bath together and perhaps leads to some nsfw in the end? It’s up to you, to how soft or rough it can be, because either one would be just as interesting. Hopefully this is the right amount of detail— and please take your time! 🥰 thank you so much again!! 🤍🥺☺️

Hello there! 🥰🙈 it sounds like a nice idea! I don't know what's the matter with those snowball fights but it all put you in a naughty mood! 😈😈

I'm on it! 😋

Winter Event #3

Words: 1740

Warning: NSFW content - foreplays - edging

Informations: fem! reader

Warm Up

It’s freezing but you won’t certainly let you guard down! You feel the coldness bites the tip of your fingers, as you begin to gather more snow, cupping and pressing your hands together to create the perfect round shape, soft but strong enough to gently harm your victim. You let loose a profound sigh, focused, as you stand back up and target your enemy. You don’t even have time to properly throw it that you receive a large snowball right on your nose in a loud splash, earning another gasp from you, as you both laugh and growl because you don’t know how to react anymore.

“Hey that’s bullshit!” You hiss as you wipe the melting snow from your features. “You can’t use your power to pulse yourself in the air, Ace! You’re cheating!”

You hear his bright and happy laugh echoing in the valley, as he’s floating a few meters above the ground, watching you with his playful dark eyes, and raising an eyebrow.

“I messaged the Corporation of Snowball Fights, and they haven’t updated the rules regarding the use of devil fruit powers!” He raises his index, giving you a lecture, as you definitely feel the everlasting teasing tone.

You cross your arms impatiently around your chest, steam coming out of your lips.

“Well did you ask the Corporation of Bullshit about your attitude?!”

You definitely see the mischief gleaming in the back of his eyes, as Ace decides to mess around with you a little bit more, rushing on you and throwing you into the soft pile of snow behind you, covering your face with the white powder. You scream and fight back, wiggling your legs and arms as you feel the snow entering your clothes, touching your bare skin as you chirp that it’s enough! What a damn kid, this one! You laugh brightly, but you feel so tired now, and frozen, and you really wish to come inside the ship and get warm before your stupid boyfriend would eventually kill you with all that snow sneaking inside of your supposedly warm coat. You kiss him to ring the truce, your cold lips immediately reacting to the natural warmness of his body; and you feel it increasing slightly, as the snowflakes around your bodies are going back to their liquid form.

“I’m too cold to stay here…” You mumble against his lips, and close your eyes, appreciating the warmth sensation emanating from his body. “I need to warm up.”

He flushes slightly, his dark eyes locked on your features as eventually open your eyelids to see the flames suddenly surrounding his shoulders.

“Not like that!” You protest, even if there’s a big smile plastered on your lips. “Last time you burnt my favorite sweatshirt, I demand to have a bath, anything, but not your dangerous flames on my body!”

He rolls his eyes and helps you get back on your feet flushing you right away against his chest as he devours the crook of your neck.

“Are you really complaining?” He mumbles against your skin, peppering the area with the softest smooshes, as you wonder for a bit if you won’t be the one making the snow melt around you right now. “Last time, I clearly remember that you wanted me to try that thing on you…”

The soft purr of his voice is enough to put you in a second state, a very needy one, but as you definitely believe you shouldn’t stay outside one more second, you eventually find the courage to push on his chest to silently ask him to step back. He kisses the tip of your nose as an answer, and then tugs a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Fine, let’s go have a bath.” He offers after a moment, squeezing your frozen fingers between his warm hands.

A few minutes later, you’re finally both sharing a bit of intimacy on the ship. A lot of the Whitebeard’s pirates are busy elsewhere, probably looting for their future Christmas gifts, as everyone is preparing the season. Thatch gave enough instructions to bring back wagons of food for the big feast, and for once, both of you have been exempted of duties. You understood it was somehow an early Christmas gift, since you have been quite depraved of any kind of intimacy in the past few weeks. Both hidden in that little warm cocoon, inside the bathroom, you both feel that desperate need to touch the other one. As the water is filling the bathtub, covering the mirrors with a cloud of steam, you’re both standing in the middle of the room. Ace is slowly undressing you, layer after layer, throwing your clothes on the floor as his mouth is attacking every single inch of your body, his skillful fingers traveling everywhere. He squeezes your hips with the gentlest gesture, his mouth nibbling your neck, his hands cupping your breasts when they are eventually free from your bra. Your next kiss is hungry, but terribly slow, enjoying that more than needed reward, tongues dancing together as you unbuckle his pants, and slide them down his thighs, grabbing his underwear in the same motion. He’s erected. You definitely understand that he wants to have more, and you’re clearly not in the mood to deny him. A soft breath escapes your lips as you roll your digits around his shaft, slowly coming up and down, as you can’t miss the shiver coming from his body. After a moment, though, he eventually put a hand over your wrist, kissing your cheek tenderly.

“Jump in the bath first. You’re trembling.” He murmurs, voice so romantic and caring that you remember how tender he can be despite his childish attitude sometimes.

You nod, your nipples so hard that they are almost hurting you, both because of the general cold atmosphere, but also your deep excitement. You carefully enter the warm water, a soft growl rolling in your throat, feeling at ease for sure. Ace doesn’t waste anymore time as well, and quickly joins you, sitting slowly while he takes place behind your back. He knows it’s a bit unfair for you, yet he has always preferred to play a bit with your emotions and your body, and clearly he wants to have the lead once more.

As soon as you’re both comfortable, you see one his hand moving from the edge of the bathtub to disappear under the ills of bubbles and soap, already looking for something to touch. He lingers his fingers on your belly, slowly, so slowly, coming up to eventually cup your right breast, his thumb rolling on your hard nipple, his mouth teasing your earlobe with the tip of his careful tongue. It feels like the water is slightly warming up, perhaps a side effect of his own body, even if Ace is quite less efficient in that kind of area; the water drains a good amount of his energy. However, it doesn’t stop him from wanting to please you, his other hand entering the dance, bolder than the other one. He presses it on your thigh, silently intimating you the order to open your legs a bit more, enough for him to slide his slender fingers up and down, always skimming the most sensitive part of your body, without truly touching it.

“Always messing around…” You sigh, eyes lidded, your head resting against his chest as you tilt it slightly, offering him more space for his mouth to explore your skin. “Whether it’d be a snowball fight or a bath, you’re always so unfair…”

“Am I not a pirate after all?” He hums, and chuckles, his voice vibrating against your ear. His hand is now pressed against your core, his index toying your sensitive lips. “I never play by the book. It’s boring to follow the rules.”

You wish to answer him, but nothing can leave your throat as you feel the sudden pressure of his thumb on your clit, and one of his fingers sliding inside of you. Your arch your back, one of your hands gripping the edge of the bathtub, the other one attacking your own breast to massage it. An invitation Ace doesn’t miss for sure, his own erection twitching behind your back.

“If you really want to play with something…” He whispers, rolling his thumb harder over your swelling clit, guiding your hand on your breast to his erect cock. “You can have fun with that.”

You nod, slowly losing the notion of time and space, eyes closed to feel everything. Fingers wrapped around his shaft, you’re jerking him at the same pace he’s fingering you, sometimes gasping when he suddenly increases his pace, or adds another finger. With his other hand, he plays with your breasts, groping them, massaging them, until he eventually slides his digits up to grip your chin and turn your head to steal a very sloppy kiss. At this point, your lips never go apart, his movements down there becoming even more intense. He doesn’t let you think about anything else but his digits playing with you so actively, as you feel his own excitement growing thanks to your ministrations. He bucks his hips from time to time, when your thumb so cockily gathers the precum oozing from his head. Each time you’re trying to push the game, each time he’s punishing you by edging you a bit more.

“Ace… Ace…” You moan as it becomes unbearable to feel him this way, your clit so swollen that you can burst at any moment. “Please, I want to come so badly…”

“Are you conceding another victory, Name?” He groans, his own cock becoming painful. Fuck he can’t control himself anymore as well. “I guess we can have a draw for once.”

Both of your movements are becoming even more passionate, the water sometimes splashing out of the bathtub, feeling the orgasm coming. Lips sealed one more time, moans swallowed in the other one’s throat, you eventually reach Nirvana, sweat and water dripping down from your faces, both of your chest raising up and down in the same erratic motion. You both slump in the bathtub, completely drained for a few seconds. He eventually chuckles, his voice weaker than before ; truly you’ll have to leave the bath soon before he would collapse.

“I guess that was a good way to warm you up.” He teases, offering you another of his everlasting playing smile.

[uwuwriting]

Maybe pregnant hcs for Todoroki, Iida, Shinsou and Amajiki???💓💓💓💓💓

-Ohoho!!!! This right here just melts my hurt. Even thinking about it makes me weak.Plus a little heads up, everyone is having daughters cause I’m weak to the knees with the thought of these four and their babygirls so be prepared. Hope I don’t disappoint.💖💖💖

*All characters are aged up so around the ages of 20-25 and up*

Todoroki Shouto

-You and Shouto have been together since your second year in UA.

-You got married when you both got well acquainted with the hero life and now live a happy , yet busy, life in an apartment near his mom’s house. 

-We know that this boy would want his family to be close to him and the fact that you get along with everyone fills his heart with so much love. 

-You two never really talked about children.

-Maybe a few suggestions of having a child in the future but nothing serious.

-Que the morning sickness. 

-Shouto was really worried about you, I mean look at you.

-You’re emptying your guts in the toilet every single morning. 

-You can’t eat most foods that you used to like and have a weird craving for tuna yogurt?!

-He doesn’t want to leave the house, he even convinced you to take some days off and try to relax.

-Give your body rest.

-He promised to get some days off himself to take care of you.

-You had your suspicions, tbh.

-You just didn’t tell him.

-Whether that was to not get his hopes up or to post pone the heartbreak you didn’t really know.

-So what if you were mildly panicking over the fact that the 5 pregnancy tests you just took were all positive. 

-It was the first day of your mini ‘vacation’ and thankfully Shouto had been called in today.

-Because you’re panicking and legit losing your shit over this, you call....Rei.

-Okay maybe it wasn’t the best course of action considering you were on the verge of cardiac arrest, but what can you do.

-You asked her if she was home and if you could stop by.

-Of course she said yes, delighted to see you and mentioned that Fuyumi was also going to stop by in around an hour.

-You made your way to her house, arriving just as Fuyumi was pulling into the drive way.

-After greeting each other and going inside, you took your seats in the living room and waited for Rei to make some tea.

-Fuyumi was going on and on about what the kids at the kindergarten were doing and how cute some of them were being. 

-Neither of the Todoroki women had missed your puffy eyes or how your smile would constantly waver, but they decided to let you tell them on your own accord. 

-Once Rei joined you in the living room, they both turned to you.

- “So how have you been Y/n, dear?” Rei said watching you really closely. 

-You looked down, feeling hot tears starting to form in your eyes and your throat tightening painfully. 

-Fuyumi moved closer to you while Rei draped an arm around your shoulders which were shacking at the moment. 

- “I-I’m p-pregnant.” it was barely a whisper, but they heard it alright.

-Mom mode activated 2x.

-They reassured you that everything was going to be fine and how lucky you are.

-They repeatedly said how excited Shouto will be and what of a push over of a dad he would become.

-After 4 long hours of baby talk, you returned home, collapsing on the sofa before passing out for a good 3 hour nap.

-When you woke up, Shouto was home and sitting next to you weaving his fingers absentmindedly through your hair. 

- “Hey there sleepyhead.”

-How could his voice be so soft!?!?

-You buried your face into the blanket, which really confused him, I mean...what did he do?

- “We have a problem...” pause....awkward silence.... “I’m pregnant.”

-*Windows noises*

-After the mild stroke, he lifted you up so you were looking at him and just stared at you. 

-Those seconds that he just looked at you felt like eternity.  

-The torture ended however, when he lowered his head to your stomach and lifting your shirt, placed a small kiss right under your belly button.

- “Hey there, snowflake. Nice to meet you.”

-And with that, 9 exhausting months started full of mood swings, weird cravings, back rubs and a never ending list of baby names.

-You two learned you were having twins on your fifth appointment, but you decided to keep the gender a surprise. 

-On a cold January night your two girls were brought into the world and it was one of the few times you had seen Endeavour and Natsuo in the same room bawling their eyes out. 

-Your white haired baby was named Rei *after her grandmother* while your mixed red and h/c babygirl Ren. 

-When Shouto held them for the first time, you thought he was going to have a mental breakdown.

-He’s a total push over and your girls are daddy’s girls to the core.

-He’s the best dad they could ask for.

Iida Tenya

-You and Tenya have been married for 6 years now and have been trying endlessly for a baby.

-You both agreed that you were ready for the responsibility and that having a little Tenya running around the house sounded like a great idea.

-Saying that you were exhausted form the attempts was an understatement.

-Tenya had incredible stamina and even more libido, so you can safely assume that during the week long process of baby making you couldn’t walk straight.

-However, your little shenanigans stopped when your doctor delivered you the news.

-You had been hit by a blood related quirk while dealing with a villain and had to get a check up afterwards.

-You were given a scolding the moment you saw your doctor because why aren’t you in desk duty you RASCAL!?

-You were confused beyond belief and it was written all over your face.

- “You don’t know do you?” 

-Le sigh.

- “Mrs. Iida I’m happy to announce you that you’re expecting, so that means you are to be put in desk duty for the next 4 months or else I’m making sure you don’t leave the house for a good 9 months.”

-You. Were. Ecstatic. 

-You ran to Tenya’s agency, bringing down the damned door to his office giving the man a heart attack.

- “Y/n what’s-”

- “I’M PREGNANT!” 

-Que ecstatic air chopping. 

-Tenya went into full dad mode during those 9 months. 

-Buttt he’s also kinda nervous.

-Nervous like Tamaki in a crowd level nervous.

-You get the image.

-You have anything you want whenever you want it.

-The nursery is done the moment you find out you are having a gilr.

-Unlike Todoroki he isn’t patient enough to keep the gender a secret.

-When the day arrives, you’re just chilling outside with him when you nonchalantly blurt out ‘my waters broke’.

-....oh...oH.....OHSHIIIIIIIT.

- “WHY ARE YOU SO CALM?! GET UP! ARE YOU IN PAIN? CAN YOU WALK!?”

-This goes on until you are screaming and crushing his hand in the delivery room.

-Your little girl is born and she’s a carbon copy of Tenya.

-Same colored hair and eyes.

-The face structure looks like you.

-She has your nose and mouth, along with your eyebrows but apart from that she’s a mini genderbend Tenya.

-Because she was born early in the morning you decided to change her name and so little Asami Tenya was officially a part of this world.

-Tenya cried.

-You cried.

-Asami cried.

-You were one happy crying family.

Shinsou Hitoshi

-You and Hitoshi have been together for two years now, but you haven’t put a ring on it.

-Sure you live together and act like a married couple already but you’re not Mrs.Shinsou.....yet.

-You have been feeling strange for days now and your period was late which never happens.

-You are panicking but unlike Shouto you two aren’t married.

-He can leave with almost no complications.

-You were his girlfriend not his wife.

-The pregnancy tests you had taken were mocking you from the bathroom sink and your poor hormone ridden mind couldn’t handle the stress.

-You cried a river until you heard keys jiggling and HItoshi’s iconic ‘Kitten, I’m home!’

-You couldn’t face him like this.

-In a haste you shoved the tests into the laundry basket along with their packages and covered them with some sheets. 

-Fixing your hair and washing your face, you straightened and walked out the door.

-After greeting Hitoshi with a kiss you calmly told him to go get ready while you made him something to eat.

-Your mind was running laps thinking how you could tell him or how you could solve your little problem as quietly as possible.

-That is until he walked in holding what seemed to be a box.

-A pregnancy test box.

-HOW CAN YOU BE BLIND?

- “Y/n, what’s this?”pause “Are you..?”

-Anddd more crying.

-You sobbed about how sorry you were and how you couldn’t explain how it happened.

-Both of you were so careful, how did this happen???

-After a good 15 minutes of you bawling your eyes out on the kitchen floor while Hitoshi was trying to calm you down, you finally stopped at the sound of his chuckle. 

- “Well, damn kitten, your surprise definitely beat mine.”

-Then he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket and watched you closely.

-Now you are Mrs.Shinsou.

-These 9 months weren’t as bad as you would expect.

-Hitoshi was really good at giving you everything you wanted and during the whole pregnancy you didn’t lift a finger.

-One October night your waters broke and you found yourself in a long procedure of bringing your child into the world. 

-Hitoshi was a wreck and had called Aizawa for emotional support who called Hizashi who called Midnight.

-Once you were finished, Hitoshi rushed into your room and found you utterly exhausted.

-He was the first to hold your baby and you have never seen him cry this much in your life. 

- “Hello my little Kei.”

-Kei Shinsou was a happy little girl with an amazing father by her side.

Amajiki Tamaki

-Ah love.

-Something Tamaki found during high school and held onto it ever since. 

-Now a well known pro hero, Suneater was more than happy with his life with you.

-He always wanted a little something more but never expressed it. 

-He loved the idea of having a mini you running around the living room or waking him up in the morning with little squeals and kisses.

-He loved you to the moon and back, more than life itself but having a kid with you sparked a whole new sensation in him.

-So he tried to be sly about it.

-Forgetting the condoms or to pull out.

-You not being able to find your pills.

-A whole lot of fun. 

-You were newly weds and your libidos were high af and with the prospect of children on the table Tamaki became 10x more driven and horny.

-So you weren’t all that surprised when your doctor gave you the news. 

-You had gone for a plain old check up when he came into the room with a bright smile on his face and congratulations falling like a waterfall from his mouth. 

-Once back home you put your plan in motion. 

-You had a feeling Tamaki was trying to knock you up for some time now.

-He couldn’t forget to pull out every time like come on.

-But you were fine with it since you too wanted a kid with him.

-You just would’ve liked a little heads up first.

-You made your little bun and put it in the oven.

-And waited.

-And waited.

-And waited.

-Until finally Tamaki walked through the door,  a smile gracing his features as he made his way to you.

- “Hey bunny.”

-Giving him a quick peck you told him to check the oven real quick to make sure the food was all good.

-He obliged, walking to the kitchen and seeing the sole bun sitting in the oven.

-He was beyond confused on why you would only make one bun in the oven and not more, I mean you are two peop- ohhhh.

-OH.

-He did it. 

-He let the news settle in before going back to you.

- “Are you sure?” nod “100% sure?” another nod.

-At that he fell to his knees in front of you, attacking your stomach with kisses and I love yous.

-To whom they were directed you couldn’t actually tell but you were happy either way.

-Calls the baby butterfly.

-Makes the whole nursery along with Mirio who is ecstatic.

-Butterfly themed baby room.

-Expect many back and belly rubs along with Tamaki coming home early because Fatgum cannot allow him to stay at work when he’s preparing for a baby.

-When your waters break you are buying some onesies with small octopuses on them.

-You have never been taken to the hospital so fast in your whole hero career. 

-After many painful and stressful hours, your baby girl is born and she’s stunning.

-She has Tama’s ears and hair but your eyes and nose. 

-She’s a perfect mix. 

-The Big 3 cry as a team.

-When she’s given to him, Tamaki just cry laughs at how gorgeous she’s.

-Many thank yous are exchanged.

- Cho Amajiki.

-Tamaki cannot stop repeating the name even after they have taken her away.

-He curls on the chair next to you, holding your hand the whole night, falling into a deep sleep, imaging his new life with his little butterfly. 

[ragegrove]

*   the   angst   thing   for   @thcrnedroses​.

                  at  the  dinner  table  getting  hounded  with  his  father’s  screaming  about  how  everyone  in  town  has  been  telling  him  all  about  his  reckless  driving  and  then  starting  in  next  on  who  this  girl  is  that  keeps  calling,  hounding  him  if  it’s  a  serious  girl,  i  don’t  have  any  stupid  girl  is  what  he  gritted  through  his  teeth  for  a  response  after  he  listened  to  this  lecture  of  how  girls  are  a  waste  of  time  and  distracting  him  from  what’s  really  important  for  the  last  five  minutes:  school  school  school.  but  it  was  the  no  i  fucking  didn’t!   when  he  started  back  in  on  the  speeding  and  threatening  to  take  the  car  away  is  what  it  took  to  get  a  punishment  of  his  life  time--  snapping  back  at  his  father  or  not--  it’s  what  neil  did  next  is  what  was  coming  anyway.  this  just  gave  him  the  final  'reasoning’  to  beat  billy  into  next  year.  he  didn’t  even  ask  him  what  he  just  smart  mouthed  back,  he  just  went  straight  into  going  ballistic.  billy  FLINCHES--  neil  smacking  the  plate  of  untouched  dinner  off  the  table,  the  food  going  flying  and  landing  in  all  different  spots  while  the  plate  breaks  with  a  loud  crash.  gravy  smeared  across  the  cabinets  and  green  beans  on  every  end  of  the  kitchen  floor,  before  getting  jerked  up  out  of  the  chair  by  his  arm  and  slung  into  the  floor  with  the  green  beans.  his  other  other  arm  trying  to  cover  his  head  in  self  defense,  it’s  the  only  thing  he  can  think  of  to  do...  his  mind  always  goes  weak  when  he’s  the  one  being  abused.  it’s  strange  he  never  thinks  to  fight  back  only  when  it  comes  to  this  man,  his  mind  just  shuts  off  and  he  turns  into  this  helpless  five  year  old  again  despite  having  so  much  strength  now  to  overpower  the  devil.  no,  don���t  cover  your  face!  take  your  punishment  like  a  man!  that’s  what  this  awful  father  screams  before  jerking  his  son’s  arm  away  from  his  face.  his  last  defense  gone,  now  freely  being  punched  in  the  face.  over  and  over  and  over  again  until  he  feels  like  he  might  really  die  by  the  hand  of  his  own  father  finally.  spitting  up  the  blood  into  his  face  gets  neil  close  to  murder,  but  gives  him  a  last  kick  in  the  gut  and  spews  murder  from  his  lips  instead,  you’re  not  worth  the  jail  time.  you’ve  never  been  worth  anything.  not.  a.  single.  damn.  thing!  not  in  my  life,  not  in  no  one’s  life!  while  he  wipes  the  blood  off  his  hands  with  a  wash  cloth  from  the  sink  before  throwing  it  at  him.  and  that’s  what  has  tears  stinging  at  his  eyes  as  he  looks  up  at  the  white  ceiling  once  neil  storms  off.  not  his  body  in  pain  from  his  father’s  fresh  beating,  but  his  mind  in  even  worse  pain  being  called  worthless  for  the  thousandth  and  final  time.  eventually  he  picks  himself  up  off  the  floor,  leaning  against  the  living  room  wall  once  he  comes  stumbling  in,  hissing  through  the  pain,  since  i’m  so  worthless,  you  won’t  see  me  again!  i’ll  get  rid  of  ALL  of  your  problems,  DAD!  and  for  a  second  he  pathetically  thought  his  father  might  be  worried  that  he’s  planning  to  kill  himself.  but  instead,  he  sees  him  coming  for  him  in  another  fit  of  rage.  turning  immediately,  he’s  never  ran  so  scared  before.  not  since  he’s  been  far  younger  and  used  to  run  like  this  before  he  started  just  becoming  numb  to  being  beaten  and  ‘taking  it  like  a  man’.  this  time  he’s  running  because  he  doesn’t  want  to  die  by  his  fist,  he  wants  to  die,  but  not  by  him.  with  his  body  in  so  much  pain,  he’s  not  even  sure  how  he  makes  it  on  the  porch  and  down  the  snow  covered  street  WITHOUT  him  catching  him.  at  first  the  cold  air  was  inviting  to  his  hot  inflamed  cheeks  and  the  angry  swell  of  a  C  shape  forming  under  his  left  eye,  until  he’s  walking  and  slipping,  out  of  this  neighborhood  to  the  very  end  of  it  where  railroad  tracks  are.  then  that’s  when  his  feet  quickly  turn  off  cold,  his  converses  soaked  through  from  the  snow,  freezing  him  to  the  bone.  all  he  has  on  to  shield  himself  against  the  snowstorm  that  has  to  come  on  all  nights  of  wanting  to  escape  is  jeans  and  the  leather  jacket  he  quickly  grabbed  out  of  the  back  of  the  camaro  he  had  to  leave  behind  in  the  driveway,  along  with  the  blue  scarf  he’s  wrapped  around  his  tender  neck  after  almost  getting  choked  to  death.  the  gloves,  he  couldn’t  grab  so  his  hands  are  just  bare.  finally,  he’s  defeated  and  sits  on  the  train  tracks  covered  in  a  few  inches  of  snow  already,  the  snow  immediately  soaking  into  his  jeans.  nose  and  fingers  turning  red  with  frost  bite,  shivering  until  it’s  painful.  guessing  this  is  one  or  three  ways  to  die.  there’s  no  way  he’ll  escape  death  from  either  hypothermia,  being  ran  over  by  a  train  or  being  ran  over  a  car  since  he’s  sitting  in  the  middle  of  a  road.  he’s  thought  about  dying  so  many  times,  thought  it  out  a  million  ways  how  he  could  end  his  life  and  yet...it  never  looked  like  this.  shivering  in  the  middle  of  a  road  with  snow  continuing  to  pour  down  and  beginning  to  freeze  him  until  the  point  he  thinks  he’s  finally  feeling  his  heart  go  into  shock.  he  hears  WORTHLESS  playing  over  inside  his  head  a  million  times  and  decides  to  just  welcome  it  as  he  falls  back  into  the  snow,  head  taking  a  hit  to  the  ground,  writhing  and  shivering  as  he  briefly  stares  up  at  the  sky.  watching  a  thousand  snowflakes  flutter  down  on  top  of  him  so  peacefully,  but  violently  take  a  toll  on  his  body.  closing  his  eyes,  the  white  flakes  piling  on  to  dark  eyelashes,  it’s  nice  it’ll  be  the  last  thing  he  sees  before  he  dies  tonight.  it’ll  be  a  peaceful  image,  even  if  it’s  going  to  be  a  long  painful  way  out.  can’t  be  anymore  painful  than  what  he’s  endured  his  entire  life....his  life  has  prepared  him  for  this  moment.  it  finally  gets  to  the  point,  mother  nature  is  doing  him  a  favor  by  freezing  him  out  of  his  thoughts,  he  can’t  even  think  about  his  father,  the  brutal  marks  his  face,  arms  and  neck  is  covered  with.  he  can’t  think  of  anything  except  how  cold  it  is,  how  very  cold....it  is.  how  it  hurts  to  breathe,  every  small  breath  he  takes  is  a  sharp  feeling,  like  a  knife  slicing  his  lungs  each  time  he  inhales  and  exhales.  

[stark-tony]

underrated irondad and spiderson fic recs part 2

part 1

Queer Eye for the Cacti by silentsaebyeok

summary: He bought one-hundred cacti on Amazon! Pepper was going to kill him!

What had possessed him to do such a thing? He never went on shopping sprees when drunk. That just wasn’t a Tony Stark type of thing to do. And in all honesty, he was astonished he even remembered the Amazon password.

--

Tony makes an interesting purchase while drunk. What he doesn’t expect is for said purchase to bite him in the ass in the worst possible way.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Tumblr Posts by Jen27ny

summary:   Literally what the title says. All the prompts and one-shots I post on tumblr.

pairings: pepperony, spideychelle

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst

warnings:

It Lasts for Always by YellowDistress

summary:  Peter has never asked anyone to kill for him, especially not Tony.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Cursed Christmas by sahiya

summary: A series of unfortunate events befalls Tony, Pepper, Peter, and Morgan (and Happy and May) in the week leading up to Christmas.

It'd be kind of funny if it didn't totally suck. Fortunately, they've got good back-up.

pairings: pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Keeping your head up by frostysunflowers

summary: It’s been a while, a long while, since Tony felt this defenceless. He’s without a suit, the manacle around his ankle is solid steel, and he can’t see a single way out.

 He’s been here before, but back then there had been tools, resources, options.

Here, there’s just the walls, his missing kid and the water. 

The water.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: kidnapping

Young, Dumb and Suffering by wordscorrupt

summary: In a moment of desperation, Peter decides to take Steve's pain medication to relieve a migraine.

or

Peter accidentally overdoses on pain medication.

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings:

Midnight Oil by JolinarJackson

summary:  After everything that has happened to Peter over the last year - or five, really - he shouldn’t be worried about something as mundane as the ACT. When he fails it, though it sends him into a spiral of self-doubt, which only gets worse when Peter realizes that he doesn’t seem to be able to fix whatever is broken.

pairings: spideychelle, pepperony

tags: hurt/comfort, angst

warnings: none

Love Will Remind Us Who We Are by blondsak

summary: There had been many times in Tony’s life when he’d known the piercing clarity that separated a Good Day from a Bad Day. Had known the ways in which, upon first waking, one’s soul would strike a balance between agony and relief either in your favor, or not.

But none of his earlier Good and Bad times had prepared him for his reality now.

//

Nine months after the Avengers defeated Thanos, Tony is still reckoning with the toll the final snap took on his body. Between grueling physical therapy, near-constant pain, and the inability to so much as tie his own shoes, well-- things aren’t exactly like Tony had imagined.

Luckily for him, there’s a certain kid from Queens who won’t let Tony give up so easily.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Summertime Sickness by Spideysickfics

summary: "Well, this is your lucky day, then!" Peter replied enthusiastically, putting his hands on his hips and puffing out his chest as he broke into a wide grin, "You're looking at a former Boy Scout!"

Tony let out a huff of air.

"No shit, a Boy Scout, huh? When did you quit?"

"First grade." Peter's grin didn’t waver. Tony rolled his eyes with a laugh.

"I'm sure you're very knowledgeable."

OR

An Irondad camping trip and sickfic to soothe your soul

pairings: none

tags: 

warnings: none

to break in these bones by searchingforstars

summary: “We’re gonna go play baseball? I’m not exactly a great shot, and you might have to let me out of these first,” Peter rattles his wrists around in the metal chains and they clink together, echoing around the sparse room, “but sounds like fun.

“We’re not playing baseball.”

“Shame, because I passed a park on my way here and I’m pretty sure that there’s only been like, six murders there this year so that could have been a fun spot.”

“I’m going to enjoy this, you fucked up little kid.”

“Hey, I’m not a little-” Peter starts, but he’s cut off by all the air being knocked out of his lungs as he sees the bat raised in front of him.

--

or, Peter doesn't listen to Tony, pisses off someone dangerous and ends up on the wrong end of a baseball bat.

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

5 Times Peter Gave Tony Something by impravidus

summary:  and the 1 time Tony gave him something back

pairings:  none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

You'll Be Here (in My Heart) by seekrest

summary:  The morning that Tony’s life changed forever began as his days usually began now — shuffling into the kitchen half asleep, going through the motions as he searched for Pepper’s favorite coffee mug.

Tony stifled a yawn, grabbing the Black Panther novelty mug she adored while he grabbed one that Morgan had made them years ago - one that made her now cringe with embarrassment anytime she saw him use it, the childish scribbles that made him laugh.

  He sets Morgan’s creation down on the countertop as he reaches for the Black Panther mug, it being just barely out of reach for when Pepper has put it last.

“Damn thing.” Tony mutters to himself, fingers barely brushing against it before he grabs it - going to set it down on the counter only to be surprised when Pepper walks in from the bedroom, an unreadable expression on her face.

“Morning. You know, you and I need to have a talk about about your choice of mugs. I know T’Challa somehow perfected the cup warmer thing here but you could at least show a little—“

“Michelle’s in labor.”

pairings: spideychelle

tags: angst

warnings: none

the little things we don't say out loud by JBS_Forever

summary: “It's not funny,” Peter says, voice catching as he whines, “This is life or death, Ned. I'm actually dying.”

On the other end of the line, Ned sighs, amused and not at all concerned. “So you're Mr. Stark's secret Santa. It's not that bad.”

- - -

In which Peter is Tony's secret Santa, and it is, in fact, that bad.

pairings: none

tags: humor, fluff

warnings: none

Hiking Essentials: A backpack, plenty of water, and a Spider-kid by kiwifeather

summary:  Morgan, Peter, and Tony enjoy each other's company on a hike through the woods while Peter is staying with them for the weekend. Father-and-son bonding ensues

(Takes place after the snap but Tony survives because this is the good timeline and we know that Tony deserved a happy ending)

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

In Case of Emergency by Bowtiez

summary: Babysitting his little sister at the Stark's lakeside cabin seems like quite the gig for 17-year-old Peter. Of course he's got that covered- he's a mature individual and he can watch over a five-year-old for forty-eight hours.

On a totally unrelated note, did anyone know that super-healing doesn't really work on bacterial infections? It's a good thing Morgan knows what to do. Well... it's probably a good thing?

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Three Times Tony Stark Used Italian Nicknames and One Time He Received One by MCUsic_to_my_ears

summary:   Tony can't help but slip into his Italian when with his children.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

More Ancient Than Magic by ironfamjam

summary: Life isn't exactly normal when your Head of House is also kinda your father-figure and his daughter is kinda sorta your little sister.

It's also not normal when the bad guys your real-life-war-hero-not-actually-dad defeated in The Great War threaten to return and you're still just trying to finish your Charms essay.

But Professor Stark asked him to protect Morgan. And that's what he's going to do.

Even if it breaks him.

The mini Hogwarts AU

pairings: spideychelle, pepperony

tags: fluff, angst

warnings: torture

Peaches by peterparkr

summary: There’s no response, not even a faint twinge of muscle. Peter tries to listen for a heartbeat, but he can’t seem to focus enough to pinpoint it. Another bubble of thought starts to rise. This could be the reason his spidey-sense is going haywire. Tony could be—

He pushes the bubble down.

OR

Peter and Tony find themselves stranded in the woods after an Avengers mission

pairings: none

tags: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

Snowflakes by Jen27ny

summary:  Tony just wants to see his kids happy - which means letting Morgan stick as many snowflakes to the window as she likes, and making Peter talk about his nightmares.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

I Sure Do Like Those Christmas Cookies by baloobird

summary: Tony is spending a fun afternoon baking cookies with his kids, but his older one isn't acting like himself.

Whatever the problem is, it's up to the now-retired hero to figure it out.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: bullying, acephobia

An MIT Halloween by bethy_277

summary: Coming to MIT had been difficult, having almost lost his mentor when he had snapped to save the entire universe, and Peter had really struggled. If it hadn’t been for Ned and Harley- who he had met shortly after he came back and become good friends with- he didn’t think he would have made it past the first few weeks at school. He had called both May and Tony that first week, hysterical and begging to come back to New York. May had been patient, Tony had been ready to get in his car to drive to him to help him through it, and Harley and Ned had been there and talked him down both times.  

** Peter is a college student at MIT and Tony brings Morgan up for some trick-or-treating.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

Someone Take Me Home by GallagherHunter

summary:  More than a month since May's death Peter is having a less than stellar day at school in the hopes of making it through the day so he can get to the apartment where he's been living with Tony since his world came crashing around him. Meanwhile, Tony has been advised to adopt Peter to assure him he won't leave him.

pairings: none

tags: hurt/comfort

warnings: bullying

It’s Gonna Be Lit by Pawprinter

summary: What Christmas gift does one get for the man who seemingly has everything?

Peter is struggling to find out.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

I'll Be Home For Christmas by snarkymuch

summary:  May gets called away for work, and Tony steps in to make sure Peter isn't alone for Christmas. Harley, Morgan, and Peter being adorable kids, and Tony being a great dad.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

The power of makeup by SparrowFlight246

summary: Peter shows up to a prestigious awards ceremony with a black eye and a whole lot of regret.

Tony raids Pepper's purse and decides to improvise.

pairings: pepperony

tags: fluff

warnings: none

if you'll be my star, i'll be your sky by ftmpeter

summary: There are two things Tony learns about Peter after Morgan is born.

The first thing is that when it comes to kids, he's a natural.

The second thing is that he's a self-sacrificing little shit.

(Tony already knew that. He has the gray hairs to prove it. But. Still.)

It isn't the kind of self-sacrificing that will get him killed or seriously injured - thank God - but it's just as annoying. Maybe even more, because while he can ground Peter from Spider-Man, he can't exactly ground him from staying up all night to make sure Morgan sleeps through it.

pairings: none

tags: fluff

warnings: none

give the cookies a miss by searchingforstars

summary: “Surprise!” Morgan exclaims as soon as they’re both in the room. She gestures excitedly towards a few slightly sad looking lumps of something drenched in icing and severed onto sticks. There are sprinkles as well, which look like they might have been a nice touch to cheer the entire thing up, had the majority of them not ended up scattered around the surrounding bench space.

“Daddy and I made cookie pops! Well, I made them, he just helped me use the big scary whisk-y thingy. They’re for Katie’s birthday party tomorrow because we all have to bring something yummy to eat, and Daddy wanted to do regular cookies but I told him that was boring. So we made these instead!”

--

or, Peter is poisoned by the ones he trusts most.

pairings: none

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: none

i want to be with you 'til the whole world ends by searchingforstars

summary: The last thing he does as his eyes slip shut is wrap his arms tighter around Peter, as tight as he can manage when it feels like the life is draining from him.

Please, for the love of God, I'm sorry I couldn't do it, but please, please, someone look after this kid for me.

Tony would give anything to make sure that Peter Parker is safe.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t have much left to give. He’s about to have nothing left to give.

The world goes dark.

He drifts away.

--

Or, Peter and Tony nearly lose each other.

pairings: none

tags: angst

warnings: none

Of bright autumn days and things that go bump in the night by frostysunflowers

summary: Halloween/fall themed fics featuring plenty of fluff, feels and seasonal shenanigans!

pairings: none

tags: fluff, humor, angst

warnings: none

Twelve Days of Terror: A Whumptober Collection by seekrest

summary:

pairings: spideychelle

tags: 

warnings: 

[sonderrow]

A journal entry. (01/??)

The first time was pretty awkward. Judgmental people will say it was to bring attention. Close-minded people will say it is impossible for a kid that age. Snowflakes will barge in with some theory on child psychology and not matter about me being just one case. I don’t know, my number one motivation was about drawing reactions, maybe, or my own curiosity. A child’s mind is weird, I don’t think I can really rationalize what happened.

Why am I here ? Why am I doing this ? Every once in a while, I believe it is normal for someone young to ask themselves this. What I believe is unusual is when this question eats you to the core. You become empty, cannot eat, cannot find any emotion in anything you do, because your life is redoing the same thing over and over again and you have no idea why you’re doing this. On top of my little seven years of living, most of my peers were comfortable trusting adults who told them that things like school were important (I say so like this, but really, thinking back, I do believe having a basic education is important, if one is not convinced of the utility of the taught subjects, simple socialization amongst peers becomes needed later in life). As for me, who had lived them, heard them, touched them… I did not see the point. I had a goal, however, and the conditions were laid on the table in front of me. Practically speaking, they were undeniable. Fame, love, money… yet I did not see any single bit of worth in any of it.

And when you are a child, your world is so small. Even if I could look at a globe and travel with my father at times, the world still limits itself to which catches your interest. I had no means, no contacts, so, for me, there was no escape. It slowly became everything I could think of. I could not see anything else but this one issue, no way around it, no solution. And nobody could answer it. Thus there was only one option.

I was a pretty dumb kid, when I think about it. At first, I thought everyone else who used hanging were so stupid since it seemed like a slow, strangled death if you did not break your neck on the spot. Aiming for the head would have been a better idea, but my inexperienced mind never thought the option remotely existed. The same moronic where, growing up, I was thinking having a tongue down there would be pleasurable, not realizing at the time that way more people than me already knew that. I was shaking so much, the damn recoil made me misfire and deviate from my target. I think I got myself somewhere near the lungs and shit, I cannot say : I was a little boy and it seemed superfluous. I did not mind for the noise and reaction of people since I believed I would be gone on the spot.

I had my surgery and after some time which seemed like a normal trip to the hospital, I was back home and things went back to normal. The doctor did mention I was very lucky to have survived. In fact, he did not know, but I had a lot of “good luck” on my side. My father had been back from work and heard the gunfire from outside the house, atop that I got help in a record time and my body handled every medical procedure extremely well. If God decided to not give me a healthy mind, it did give me a sturdy body. For one thing, I always took pride in being able to take great amounts of pain.

My parents literally never talked about this chain of events. It was only a matter of looks. I think my father believed I learned my lesson and, even at the time, I could tell his train of thoughts without him telling me anything. If my family never showed that they were hurt, I have no doubt they did feel it. In private. Or at least this would be a normal thing. The reality is that, in my heart, I do not think they were affected past how it muddied their life plans. A habit I took from them, or maybe I did not know and my parents also had the inability to cry. After some point in my life, I do not know why, but I was literally unable to cry, even if I wanted to. My throat would get stuck and I would grow the urge to be alone, but tears would not reach my eyes. Maybe it was my pride, maybe it was my oh so traumatic past because of somethingsomething. I do not know, I’m not a psychologist. I just know that I could not cry.

In the end, being out for so long was like a vacation. After weeks in the hospital recovering, I started having fun again doing the things I did and my studies returned to their stable state. The only thing that happened is that, believe it or not, I was the one my parents tasked to remove the rest of the bloodstains. You know, the annoying stains which remains after the first wash? I’m pretty sure they could have paid someone to do it, but I was the one who did it. I do not know if this was my mother showing me something about her personally or a legitimate opportunity to teach me the tricks.

But all of this was only a little misadventure. I don’t think much of it. I just wrote this down. I believe every kid has gone through something similar in their life, only mine was as much out of proportions as my entourage was. A balance to all the heavy baggage I was being thrown at.