#honestly i am STILL not sure if the line in burn bright is supposed to be 'love' or 'life' but it's very gay either way

[angeart]

I am trying to be a patient anon and not send too much before you finish your Mimic/Juni rambles before asking for more rambles (I love him, he did A Big Bad but I love him)

but you called attention to it so what happened to Scar's ear?? D:

(honestly wasn't sure if I should ask you or Link cuz its Link's art but I saw your post first this morning so.... :x)

-🎀

HELLO there is no need to hold back and be patient <33 I love seeing you in my asks and always get excited! Also also also! So happy to hear you love our Juni even though he did Big Bad. I promise the main Mimic Arc Rambles Part II will have a snapshot of what happens to him after all this. 

Anyway! For now, to answer your question about the feather earring!

Some time after reuniting (after the whole Juni thing), Scar and Grian find a cave with a hot-spring, where they take shelter for a little while. Things happen, and somewhere along the lines, Scar asks Grian to mark him in some way. (Scar already marked Grian—) 

He says: Show the world I’m yours.

And so Grian does the avian thing. He touches his wings, willingly and deliberately, without the intent to harm them—something that hasn’t happened in so long—and he picks a nice-looking feather. And he gifts it to Scar. To say that yes, they’re connected. That they belong to each other. (And oh, how much it means for Scar to have access to this part of Grian; to be given something so monumental, something others are willing to kill for, yet they’re not allowed to have it.)

At first, Scar tucks it behind his ear, because he has no other way to keep it on him and have it safe and on display (something they can afford for now, in the privacy of their little cave). He checks with Grian, to make sure if that’s okay, and… Honestly, it’s complicated. 

Tucking a small snippet of our mini-rp about this below the cut <3 (but if you’re interested only in what happens to Scar’s ear after, feel free to skip that!)

RP snippet:

Scar

"Is this okay?" he asks, a tad timid with a big, bashful smile. "I mean like, am I supposed to wear it?" 

It's a loaded question, he knows. Not only is it a public display of their relationship, but it's a public display of a bright violet feather, and Scar knows how troubling that can be for Grian to show off, so he can only imagine the complicated nature of having his own portion of that for show. (He thinks of the hunters and their bejeweled weapons, feathers tied to them in boast. It makes his fingers twitch slightly, aching for his claws.)

(Mournfully, he finds himself wishing this was Hermitcraft (a thought he tries to avoid), and he could wear it proudly to show off to his friends. That Grian is his and he is Grian's.)

-

Grian

Grian waits until Scar pulls away, content to stay pressed close to him. But then Scar presents a question, and Grian's face burns, eyes flicking up to bask in the sight of the feather behind Scar's ear. "I— I um—" he stammers. He likes having it on display, and all the implications of it. It makes something in his chest purr with happy warmth. But— Is Scar supposed to wear it? Grian's never done anything like this before. He actually doesn't know.

His fingers reach, but he doesn't touch the tucked feather. Instead, his fingertips brush Scar's earlobe, and he wonders how wonderful it would feel to see Scar proudly wear the feather as an earring.

But then the reality crashes in. Grian's fingers tremble and pull away, and he swallows thickly. His eyes are big and vulnerable, with a touch of deep-rooted fear, when they find Scar's again. "I—" he stammers again, in a completely different pitch this time.

His wings slide off of Scar's back, reclaiming their spot behind Grian, making themselves smaller. (And yet. And yet they're still not as tightly pressed to his spine as they used to be.) 

He thinks of a bright spot of violet, permanently tied to Scar, on display. In a world where that particular brilliant shade is as good as a death sentence.

"I don't know," he finishes in an unsteady half whisper, heart hammering painfully in his chest.

-

Scar

Scar's ear flicks when touched, but the feather remains tucked where it is; he even twitches upward to make sure of it. He watches Grian fumble with his words and how his wings retreat, nervous and almost ashamed of their gorgeous hue. Scar finds that he really does not like that.

He meets Grian's eyes, steady even as his own are still red from shed tears. "Do you want me to?" Then, softer, serious. "I want to." His eyes flick downward, pondering his next words carefully before seemingly resolving to something. He looks back up and adds, unwavering. "Maybe dangerous, but... feels good. Feels… right."

-

Grian

Grian doesn't even have to consider Scar's question; he knows the answer instantly. Yes. Yes, he does want that, but—

He can't. He can't say that. He can't bear the implications, the possibilities. He can't stand the thought of making scar any more of a target than he already is.

He feels his eyes water as his heart is locked in this hopeless fight. Scar tells him he wants to do it, and that it feels right, and damn, Grian knows it feels right—it feels so, so horribly right for Scar to wear the feather on proud display.

And still. Grian's eyes close, sending tears tumbling down. His head dips as he shakes it no, suddenly so very afraid.

He doesn't want Scar to get hurt because of him. Because of this. Because of a silly, sentimental foolishness.

-

Scar

Scar pauses, heart aching at the display of complicated emotions that shower over Grian's face, shifting and moving until he lands on something all too close to despair and dips his head low.

Scar chews his lip, also dismayed by the reality they live in, before pulling his little avian in close again, pressing him to his chest where he can cry. 

"Maybe... just for now," he whispers, secure in their current privacy. "And we'll figure it out?"

--------

Eventually, after many talks and reassurances and sinking, fearful feelings, Scar ends up fashioning the feather into an earring. He already has one ear pierced, and easily uses that to have the feather on him. 

It’s a security risk, in a way. But Scar needs it, needs to be able to proudly proclaim that they belong to each other. That whoever might want Grian’s feathers would have to go through him first.

And they do. Go through him first.

There’s an incident where a hunter gets grasp of the feather and yanks it. (They want that feather <3) It takes the whole earring with it, sending a spike of pain through Scar.

There’s a lot of blood.

Scar doesn’t care.

All he cares about is the fact that this hunter now has Grian’s feather in his grasp, and he’s not meant to have that, he can’t, it doesn’t belong to him.

(He once promised Grian that nobody can have his wings, and that extends to this feather, too. To any part of Grian, really.) (And yet Grian gave himself over to Scar so fully, so willingly.)

And... yep. Scar goes a little feral. As a treat.

He takes that hunter down.

In the aftermath of it, he clutches the bloodied earring close to his chest, needing to feel it, to shield it, to make sure it’s his, nobody else has it, just him. He is determined to fiercely protect it, because of everything it means. And because Grian gave it to him.

Speaking of, Grian’s inconsolable. He’s very, very upset; this just adds to his fears that he’s only ever going to get Scar hurt. That nothing good comes from his feathers. That they’re just an omen bringing blood and death. (Something that’ll be reinforced later, too <3) 

He doesn’t want Scar to be in that firing line. He doesn’t want Scar to get any more hurt because of him. Not for a single feather. (Even if that single feather means everything.)

All he thinks about is that he was right— His feather did lead to Scar getting hurt. And it’s awful, and he feels sick, and guilty, and so very hopelessly, fearfully sad.

But Scar isn’t deterred. He doesn’t care; he’d willingly fight the whole world for this. (For Grian.) He stubbornly pierces his other ear, and it bleeds too, but it doesn’t matter. He puts the earring right back in. (Yep, this is how the earring swapped sides—)

Of course they talk about it. And it’s a mess. It’s even more complicated than before.

Scar ends up saying, “Grian, if it really makes you uncomfortable I’ll— I’ll keep it hidden, but if it’s only for my sake, then no. Please let me wear it.”

And… Well, Grian has no idea how to feel. 

He doesn’t want to put Scar in danger. But also, seeing that feather? Seeing Scar wear it? It reinstates everything they are to each other, every whispered, sobbed-out promise, every comforting touch and press of lips, every small, hard-fought laughter. 

Scar wearing the feather both soothes Grian immeasurably, and makes him sick to his stomach with dread.

But ultimately, he leaves the choice in Scar’s hands.

And Scar decides to wear it. (He’ll take down anyone who tries to touch it <3)

[that-strange-vault-lady]

Entry: 002

Date: Sat, 08.17.2277

I’m alone. She, she was here and now she’s gone, did I do something? Why? Why would she leave, was I just that much of a dead weight. We, got out of the vault, we left I mean, when we got outside the vault door we where in a cave and then we left and it was, god, it was so bright and then, I can’t remember after that, when I woke up, Amanda was, she was gone.

If there where tracks in the dirt I didn’t see any so I just, well, I retreated back into the cave. I, I haven't really been able to bring myself to leave the cave since, I just find myself pacing up and down this same 20 30 or so feet of cave feeling, lost. First it was dad, now, Amanda, I mean what do I even do now? Hell I don’t even know if it’s safe out there, I wasn’t built for this, I mean sure I can swing a bat, but I was never physically fit, running a single lap around the baseball court would have me in sweats. I’m not exactly an environmentalist ether, I have no idea what to expect up there, leaving this cave with Amanda felt, safe, because I had her there with me but now.

Plus I mean we where always told that the surface was radioactively contaminated, fuck, what if my clothes are already contaminated? Shit shit shit, *takes a deep breath* calm Bella, calm, just breath *breathes deeply* I can’t understand why dad would want to leave the vault in the first place, we are born in the vault, we die in the vault, that’s always been the way. Sure things where not always great down there but we where safe, we had food and water and structure, *sighs* it’s too late now though, hell even if I was to bang on the door they wouldn’t let me back in. To be honest it doesn’t look like I would be the first person to try ether.

The cave is littered with the skeletal remains of people, how terrified they must have been. To even contemplate what it must have been like, the world behind them burning to ash in the white hot flash of nuclear hellfire, and the path to there salvation, bared by a four yards thick door of lead lined tungsten, trapped between life and death. There desperate scratches still marring the outside of the vault door, the bones of what appear to be both adults and children, It’s a horrifying image, especially when I find myself feeling not unlike them now.

Outside, out there, on the surface. I know Amanda and dad are out there somewhere, but the idea of being out there alone, by myself, I will admit I’m really scared. Not to mention all of the logistical questions, where do I get food from now? What about clean water? Is there even any clean water on the surface? In the vault we had processors and filters, out there you may have what? A puddle? Not to mention I have no idea where out there even is, america is a big place, we learned all about it in school growing up, for all I know vault 101 could be located in the middle of a desert, not a drop of water contaminated or not for miles.

Then there is medicine, what about my hormones? My implant will only last so long. What if I get sick? What if I cut myself on something by accident or sprain my ankle? It’s, it’s not as simple aswell dad and Amanda went out there so should I. I’m not like them, Amanda is tech smart, dad was a doctor of course, but I was what? A therapist? How is that useful out here? What am I suppose to counsel the soil into growing food and providing water? *sighs deeply*

Maybe I’m over thinking all of this, maybe, maybe things will be ok. There has to be a reason why dad came up here right? Or why else would he leave. Amanda must have known and that’s why she left too, maybe she has already caught up with Dad and, and maybe they just expected me to nock on the vault door and ask to be let back in, but no, I won’t do that, I’m not going back, I can’t I can’t go back, not now. *sighs* I wish Amata left too, she wouldn’t have left me alone. Even when she got with Butch she always took my side, honestly she is the best friend a girl like me could ask for, I, I will miss her.

I can see the light from outside is starting to fade, and according to my pip-boy it’s getting late so I guess, maybe I will just stay put for tonight, maybe by the morning I can work up the courage to leave, formulate some sort of plan. It just worries me though, every day, hell every minute that I waste sitting here, well, it takes dad and Amanda further away from me. We always had our differences, especially when mom came up in conversation, and I know it’s only been a day, but, I miss them.

[lupically]

#FEF5F1 | DILUC RAGNVINDR.

genre | fluff

word count | 1825

warning | none

note | i finally wrote something for my top husbando :’)

it came to you as a surprise that diluc, at all, sleeps.

there has always been this fantasy version of him in your head, a fantasy that lacked the great ideals and bright adventures most fantasy novels you have read consisted of. in contrast, your fantasy of him was insulting and otherworldly at best—someone restricted to the rules, a personality as plain as a dull purple doormat, a total stick in the mud that kills joy at the mere sight of it, an emotionless robot that has no use for human necessity such as the bathing and sleeping.

does diluc even need to consume food? you have literally never seen him eat or drink anything before. has he ever taken off his gloves to pick up a hamburger—oh, archons, you just realized now that you have never seen the skin of his hands before. he always has gloves on! was it to hide something?

"oh, wow," you exclaimed lowly to yourself as you leaned forward to examine the hands of the very annoyed red-haired man before you. your long-term question was finally answered. "fascinating... so you do have hands!"

diluc spared not even a glance toward the limb you were so interestedly staring at. he kept quiet for a moment and peered down at you from his bed, one leg propped up and the other stretched out—a rather awkward position he had no time to get out of after he almost burned you alive for sneaking into his bedroom in the winery.

"what drunk wind blew your incompetent self here?" he asked, ignoring your remarks about his lack of real and human hands. whatever you meant by that? you were always spilling weird things out of your mouth, you might even be worse than venti, he reckoned. 

you glared up at him after hearing his mindless insult. you were only fifty percent sure (which was already a lot in your book!) diluc never actually meant those hurtful words, that they simply fly out of his mouth due to his weird need to make sure everyone around him knew that he leaves no room for unnecessary sentiment. 

being kind blatantly was not his thing, and he has no intention of being applauded for being a decent person. why that was, you couldn't be sure. you had your assumptions, but kaeya turned out far too different than diluc that you weren’t sure if you should put your finger on the assumption. you also didn't dare dive deeper into it because (a) you just weren’t invested enough, and (b) by then, it would be a family business you would hate to indulge yourself with.

"kaeya dared me to take a picture of your sleeping face in exchange for some wine. our good friend, the honorary knight's smaller friend also wanted it as a possible blackmail souvenir," you told him honestly.

diluc immediately murmured something you couldn't quite hear, but he looked more confused than annoyed when he glared down at the mattress of his bed. he grumbled something along the lines of how the roles were definitely reversed. you didn't press further about that.

"if that is what you came here for, your best bet is to leave the way you came," he said after a moment, pointing a cold hand toward his bedroom window. "you're not taking any pictures of me."

you snorted, holding up your kamera and tapping the lenses. “uh, i think i came pretty close to taking a picture of you sleeping, diluc.”

“i had woken up the second you walked through my bedroom door. you could never,” he said.

you hummed under your breath, eyeing him suspiciously. he was probably telling the truth. he barely struggled in surprise when he grabbed your hands in the dark; was it pure luck that he perfectly found where your kamera was on the first try or does diluc secretly has night vision? your guess was as good as the unknown. 

not to mention, he looked normal, just like someone who may be in the know of your intrusion. he appeared grumpy but that was just his normal state. you could barely get him out of a frown even if you pay him, mainly because he wouldn’t need your money, but also because he was stubbornly against smiling, it appeared. 

"you know, i was surprised at first. i didn't know you sleep at all! i always thought you kind of just shut down, or maybe you have stayed awake all your life," you said with a shrug, and when he deadpanned at you, you defensively waved your kamera around. "i'm sorry! i just–you don't strike me as a person who sleeps!"

"so dead, then?" diluc asked calmly, although there was very little calmness in his facial expressions, especially those judgemental eyes of his.

"not dead! just... not really human–" you paused and pressed your lips together, thinking back to what you said to him and realizing that he might have a point. then you turned to him. "you also eat, right?"

“are you leaving or not?” he asked, a hint of flare in his voice that if you looked closely, you may see fire emerging from his body.

being stubborn as ever, and knowing that diluc would never really hurt anybody he knew to be good people, you feigned thoughtfulness for a second. tapping your finger against your chin, you scrunched your nose and shook your head. setting the kamera lumine forcefully had to borrow you between your crossed legs, you flashed him a mischievous grin. 

“no,” you said. “i am getting that picture out of you!”

“like i said,” he said, “you will never.”

“fine! then i guess i will just have to sit here and wait for you to fall asleep on me,” you said, slapping your hand down on his soft mattress. “don’t try to force me out of here! i will make it way worse for you!”

diluc furrowed his brows, wondering if you meant what you said. when his questioning gaze couldn’t get even an ounce of budge from you, he could only sigh in frustration. if you planned to sit on his bed until he doze off, then you would definitely make it worse if he tries to dump you out of his bedroom through whatever means you could.

he may be a skilled swordsman and a vision bearer, but unfortunately, he was not immune to bullshits from the likes of you.

diluc closed his eyes to savor the tiniest bit of sleep he managed to get before he heard your extra loud footsteps creeping around his room. he was supposed to get a good night's sleep, which was something he hasn't had in a while because of all the business schedules and his side vigilante job.

he was supposed to rest tonight, and there came you.

there always comes you.

dilly-dally, unpredictable, the epitomie of 'knights of favonius... always so inefficient,' letting klee out of solitary confinement and causing a ruckus amongst the responsible adults kind of irresponsible, has paid for his wine at least a zero number of time kind of broke, and was just always here to ruin his mood at the tavern every single day. 

most of the time, diluc thought about you in a negative light, much like he did with everyone around him and the entirety of the knights of favonius. but there was a version of you in his head that painted you as somebody different—somebody respectful, somebody worth keeping around...

somebody he likes, perhaps.

after all, joy was never prevalent in his life. it used to be, but that was a past he has long forgotten the details of. even if he wanted to remember them now, he could only remember snippets that wouldn’t guarantee him a good nostalgia. he may just end up feeling worse at the end. the only constant influx of distraction he has now seemed to be either you or venti, and with the godly bard as his other option, he would much rather choose you. 

but it was not because that venti was too hard to confine in. you were just as hard to talk about problems with considering your optimism and fickle attitude. 

what diluc wanted was permanence; a train that never stops, a bottle of wine that continuously refills, dandelions that do not stop flying even after it reaches celestia. and venti was too understanding and abstract to be one. as interesting of a character he may be, venti knew when to leave people alone. or, occasionally, he just cared too little. after all the city of mondstadt didn’t lack a god because he was responsible. 

you, though. diluc could never pinpoint if you were as dense as you appeared to be, or if you did know how to read the room and simply chose to ignore it, but you never leave people alone. you never left him alone; you unknowingly pick a petty one-sided argument with him all the time, you get drunk at the tavern and somehow has never let anybody take you home but him, you barge into his bedroom in the middle of the night because of some stupid dare his brother made you do and you still refuse to leave despite being sleepy.

you give him a way out, whether he likes it or not.

arms crossed in front of his chest, he deadpanned as he watched your head drop lower and lower to the mattress. soon enough, you were snoring away on his bed with the gadget discarded by your feet. he watched you in silence, your cheek smushed against the surface and the intensity you always radiated lessening from your body. you looked normal now; not energetic, not talkative. just sleeping peacefully, the way he always made sure you were after carrying you home. 

diluc’s heart was finally softening under the knowledge that nobody was watching him anymore. the pessimistic monster that often emerges from him was still here, but in the face of you, it has painted itself pink and it has forgotten vengeance and retribution. in the face of you, it has been dragged out from the death it once laid and became forgiven. 

carefully laying your head down on the pillow, diluc draped the blanket over your shoulder to tuck you into his bed. after making sure you were fine and well, he placed the kamera on the desk in the room, somewhere visible you could find once you wake up, and he left for one of the guest rooms in the mansion. 

tonight was the first time in a while when he has forgotten about all the problems he’s had. something that wasn’t about wine, the family business, or the abyss order. it wasn’t the rest he wanted, perhaps it was hardly any rest at all, but he was glad he got to think about something else.

of course, diluc would never tell you that.

[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

I’m On Fire [Chapter 1]

Summary: With her sister’s wedding fast approaching and her Mom hounding her about finding a date, Y/N makes a terrible decision that lands her and her least favorite genius in a confusing situation.

A/N:  This is the first part in a series, I’ve written the first few chapters already so I’m hoping to update pretty regularly! I hope you guys enjoy, and any feedback is always appreciated! ❤️

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Category: Fake Dating, Enemies to Lovers, (Eventual) Smut, Fluff, Angst, it’s a Slow Burn Baby

Warnings: None really for this chapter, cursing? Mean-ish Spencer

Word Count: 6.5k

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist 

I wasn’t at the BAU long before it started to feel like home. The team became my family, pure and simple.

Having been recruited by Hotch at only 22 I'd sort of fallen into the roll of the little sister to the team without really meaning to. It's not that I was naive, or particularly sheltered even. I know I'm good at my job, and I'd want to be, given how my life's revolved around it almost entirely. But the team seemed to adopt a protective mindset over me right off the bat.

When I first joined the FBI everything was terrifying. I worked so hard for my PhD, trying to get into the unit, but there's almost nothing that can actually prepare you for the real thing. Being out in action in the field, working the cases out in real time. Sometimes they had a smooth, easy conclusion followed by loud obnoxious drinks together. Then there were the others, the ones that kept me up for days after and felt as though they owned little pieces of my heart still.

It was JJ that helped the most on those horrible flights back on the jet. Noticing my anxious ticks and uneasy disposition after that first case that had ended badly. JJ had been through it all before, taking too many cases home with her. Seeing her son's little faces in the kids that we couldn't help. If I was the baby of the team JJ was the big sister, looking out for everyone.

Morgan on the other hand was the outrageously cool older brother, the one you just wanted to be. Early on he'd helped my weak self with the ruthless fitness regimen the FBI required, he offered to pull some strings and get the test written off. But I couldn't accept that, there was something in me that just wanted to impress Morgan, and honestly still does. Like somehow if he thought you were cool, then it became true. So I passed the exam, but getting up a flight of stairs was near impossible for a week after.

Emily was probably the fun aunt. The one that would sneak you booze at the family gathering, or take you to your first concert. Emily was actually the one who'd found me, digging around colleges for potential recruits she'd had me picked out for a while I later found out. Insisting that Hotch give me a shot. It was reassuring to know I had someone who would stick up for me from day one.

I was an tech analyst, among other things, sort of a counterpart for Garcia in the field. So it was no surprise to anyone when the two of us hit it off as though we'd known each other forever. We weren't the same by any means though. Penelope was bold, and bright, and confident beyond measure, where I've typically felt like more of a blend into the background type. I've always thought of myself that way, despite my achievements. I'd also always believed I was fairly inoffensive, no one I'd met had ever had a huge problem with me, 'till I got to the BAU that is.

Every rose has its thorn I suppose.

That thorn in my side was Dr. Spencer Reid.

It wasn't that Dr. Reid was a bad agent, or even a bad person. I hadn't actually met him before that first day in the conference room, but I'd known who he was for a long time. Before I came along he'd held the mantle of 'youngest ever recruit' in the unit, while I was studying I'd read any of his work I could get my hands on because of that fact.

I figured it must've been some sort of hazing when he looked me up and down that first day I was introduced, and then proceeded to blank me entirely for a full week. Up until I'd wrapped my first case.

The whole team went straight from the jet to the bar. Proceeding to get far too drunk. Spencer joined, which the rest of the team found unusual, and I probably should've taken as a sign of things to come.

That case went well, and everyone was in high spirits but Reid had a sour disposition, at least it seemed that way every time he looked at me. After a few too many drinks I went outside in an attempt to sober up in the cold air, unfortunately Reid must've snuck outside not long before.

"Ugh" was all he said when he first caught my silhouette approaching him. The night was unusually cold so it had been deserted outside the bar that evening. I wasn't really sure why it made me nervous to be alone with him like this, the two of us leaning back against the same small area of brick wall, looking out at the cold night.

"Nice to see you too doctor" was all I could muster, I was drunk enough that I let my sarcastic tone leap out, "you can relax, I'm just trying to get some fresh air, it's too stuffy in there, and loud. I'm not here to talk to you or anything."

"Well aren't you a sensitive thing" he responds in kind, at that point I wasn't really sure if it was a coincidence or if he'd been genuinely avoiding me, but things were starting to clear up.

"I'm sensitive, that's a fun take on things" I joke, taking a long sip of cold water from my glass.

"And what's that supposed to mean, newbie?" his emphasis on the last word all but confirms my suspicions.

"Fuck man, what's your problem with me? Is it because I'm new, or because I beat your stupid record?" I quip. hoping that at the very least it might coax him out of his shell. Dr. Spencer Reid getting angry at me could honestly be better than the nothing I'd been experiencing from him until now.

"What stupid record?" he sounds genuinely confused

"I'm the youngest BAU recruit now?" I didn't know why else he could be so sour. He'd never met me before last week, and since he'd ignored me that first day I'd done all I could not to step on his toes. So if he had a reason to hate me this much, it wasn't something I'd done on purpose.

He takes a few moments to respond, raising his eyebrows and considering the information. He chuckles. He fucking chuckles.

"That's funny." he says, his voice leveling out, "I didn't peg you as funny newbie" that word sets something off in me again. Something about it is dismissive, or belittling. Before I could fight back he starts to move, maneuvering around me and heading back inside. A little too tipsy to think of anything constructive to say, I just mutter "Fuck you Spencer."

He swings open the door, as he walks inside he just says "See you Monday, Newbie" without even looking at me.

And that was only the beginning.

----

"You know I'm just trying to make sure you get enough rest sweetheart. There's no need to get so defensive!" it was far too early in the morning to be dealing with this call. Since joining the BAU a few years ago this was a standard call from my Mom. Equal parts well meaning and over-bearing, and generally asking far too many questions.

"I'm not getting defensive Mom, I get plenty of rest, my job is just very important to me and you know that." I knew she was right to be at least a little worried, this job was consuming, and in all honesty I wasn't sure how people like JJ were married and still here. It seemed like an impossible feat.

"Fine sweetie, how are your co-workers doing then? How's Penelope? Give her my love" she loved Penelope, I think she thought that Penelope tethered me to the normal world, and in a way she was right. She kept me sane, and fun, and made me eat pizza and do face masks once a week at least. Even when I didn't think I wanted to.

"Pen's great Mom, everyone's good. Well, the usual ones get on my nerves, but I'm fine." As I say it I glance across at Dr. Reid, the only person who's also in as early as I am most days. I'm not sure if he can hear me but he's tapping his pen so loud on his desk that it takes all of my energy not to walk across the bullpen and stab him with it.

"Y'know what Mom, I'm actually just after getting to work and it's a busy day so can I call you back later?" I chance, getting her off the phone is always an ordeal.

"Fine, fine, I'll let you go. But wait one last thing!"

I knew what was coming. It was always coming.

"Are you seeing anyone, Margot's been wondering too, just thought I'd check in?"

Pinching the bridge of my nose and trying not to scream down the line, I just sigh out the frustration instead.

"No Mom, believe it or not, I've made no progress on that front since you asked me all of 3 days ago."

"See you are being defensive!" she snaps

"I gotta go, bye Mom. Love you!" I say, hanging up quickly before dropping my head down into my arms on my desk, resting like that for a few moments in silence.

Hearing Garica chuckle behind my ear I perk up and spin around. She's holding a small paper cup of coffee and hands it to me. I look at it confused, "Sorry about the paper, I couldn't find your mug in the cabinet" she apologizes, looking over at Dr. Reid and rolling her eyes. Now I know he can hear me from his seat, he takes that moment to sip from my mug and place it gently back on his desk.

It hadn't taken long for him to start toying with me. It was always stupid childish things. Things I couldn't get genuinely annoyed at, that would give him far too much satisfaction, knowing he was getting to me in any real way. This was one trick he liked to play if he got into the office before me, he'd take my mug and make his coffee in it, just to spite me I guess.

"Why does he even do that, it's so stale" she said, just a little louder than normal to make sure he could hear. Garcia and Reid were still good friends and team-mates but she liked to stand up for me when she could. He liked to avoid me as much as possible so he'd usually go to Garcia before me if he needed help with something. Even when the two of us were out in the field together. Which was obnoxious but it was just another thing I'd gotten used to over time. And as long as it didn’t interfere with the case I just forced myself to let it go.

"I know it's such low grade bullying isn't it?" I shot back with a chuckle.

"So I'll take it that was Mommy dearest" Penelope gestures to my phone. She knew my Mom, and she knew about her general overbearing energy. I let out a groan thinking about the call again, and the calls that were to come.

"Isn't it always Mommy dearest?" I joke

"So she's still on your ass about the wedding then?" I'm sure Penelope was almost as sick of hearing about it as I was,

"Margot's getting married in like 4 months now, and every time Mom calls there’s just some new hometown loser she wants to set me up with Pen. It's fucking exhausting" I take a sip of the coffee she made me, savoring the bitter taste. She sits down on my desk for a moment, leaning in.

"Honey, did you ever think that if you got out there and found someone, she wouldn't be on your ass at all?" I don't want to think about that, about how she's completely right. All I can do is let out another small groan and lean back down onto my desk.

"Too early Pen" I say, it's muffled by the desk but she gets the message. Hopping up and heading to her own office as some more people start to arrive for the morning.

Leaving me alone to make a start on my paperwork that had built up throughout the week. Fridays were usually slow like this, giving me a little too much time to think. I couldn't shake the thought that my Mom and Penelope were actually right. Maybe I was a bit too invested in the job, and maybe that was a pretty big factor in why my last relationship imploded but I wasn't about to admit that to anyone.

----

After that the day crawls by, thankfully no cases pop up so the weekend might actually be free. Trying to make sure I clear up all of my paperwork takes a little longer than I'd hoped and leaves me alone in the bullpen. It seems like everyone's gone home by the time I've packed up and I'm ready to leave. Which wasn't as out of the ordinary as I'd like it to be really. Everyone else seemed to have somewhere to be on a Friday night.

Waiting for the elevator to arrive my phone started to ring, I could see my Mom's caller ID on the screen. If I just let it go I know she'll call back later, may as well get it out of the way. I take a deep breath in anticipation before I answer.

"Hey what's up?" I answer, stepping inside the elevator as the doors ping open.

"Hi sweetie, I've got good news! Do you remember David? That lovely boy, he helped out your Father that summer in high school?" I know what's coming and rub my temple, trying to stifle the headache I know is coming. As I answer a hand slides between the elevator doors, popping them open again.

Dr. Fucking Reid walks in, and he looks about as happy to see me as I am to see him. I make eye contact and look away just as fast, willing him away with my mind. "Yes Mom, I remember him, why are you telling me this?" I already know the answer but I'm fed up, she still sounds excited when she responds.

"Well you won't believe it! I ran into him at the market this morning and I thought you'd like it if I passed on your phone number to him, maybe for the weddi-" it took all I had not to shout into the receiver, and maybe I would've had the elevator been empty.

"Mom! Jesus!" I have to reign myself in, but I have a bad idea, "You know what, I'm actually sorted. I've got a date lined up now" I'm not sure why I said it with no real plan in place. She sounds even more excited than I've ever heard her.

"Oh my, that's amazing sweetie! That was fast, I can't believe you found one since this morning, it's someone from work so?" she assumes, and I'm just not thinking fast enough to correct her.

"Mmhmm, yeah" I'll figure out the logistics later I rationalize.

"Oh! Is it that boy you're always on about, the one who teases you?" she asks, and her voice is full of joy, and it makes me feel horrible that I'm lying already, and that I'm going to let her down.

"Yup, that's the one, look Mom I gotta go, I'll talk to you later! Night" I blurt out so fast it has to be obvious I'm nervous.

I can hear a stifled chuckle behind me. Fuck. How loud is my phone speaker. Could he hear that. Surely not. But this elevator was completely silent. The doors open and I have to stop myself from running to my car at top speed. Instead I walk out just a little faster than normal, turning around to shoot him a small wave goodbye. And he's got this devious smirk on his face that makes my stomach turn.

Sitting into my car I pull out my phone to text Garcia immediately.

I'm on my way to yours right now. It's urgent.

——

Traffic's light so it takes maybe 10 minutes before I arrive at Garcia's place. My mind's racing and my body takes me there on autopilot. Why did I say any of that, why did I even answer the damn phone. Why did I wave goodbye to Spencer, I never usually did that. Maybe that's why he had that look on his face. Maybe he was just thinking of something funny that happened earlier and it had nothing to do with me at all. That was something he'd do to mess with me for sure.

How was I going to walk this back with my Mom, she was just gonna have more questions that I couldn't answer. Fuck.

Garcia buzzed me up and her door was open for me by the time I got up the stairs. This little purple apartment had become my second home. It was where I spent most of my evenings off, laughing on the same sofa I was collapsing face first into right now. Garcia nestles in beside me and runs her hand over my hair, "Hey sweet pea, what's happening? I don't want to sound too concerned but you're not giving me much to go off? Are you dying, is there drama? You're going to have to tell me what's so urgent before I burst a blood vessel?"

I let out a muffled, "is drahmuh" into the pillow, Garcia shakes my shoulders.

"Sit up babe, damn!" I have to heave myself out of the pillows, sitting upright on the sofa beside her, clutching one of the pillows in my arms.

"It's drama" I repeat,

"Well, out with it then, you know I'll take all the drama I can get! Spill, spill" she rushes me along. I'm already apprehensive, Reid's her coworker too, but if anyone would understand why this was such an issue it was gonna be her.

"Okay, I'm after doing something stupid and I think I really need your advice" I cringe already, thinking back to the elevator, throwing out my words faster, I continue the story, mostly trying to get it over with, "my Mom called again when I was on the way out tonight and she was trying to set me up with this guy, and Reid was there, and I got all flustered, and I told her I had a date already" I throw my head down into the pillow again.

"Wait why was Reid there?" she looks like she's trying to fit puzzle pieces together and she's getting nowhere, "And what's the drama?"

"Shit Garcia, it was in the elevator and it was all quiet, and maybe he heard the call, maybe he didn't but he had this fuckin' look on his stupid face" I can't shake the smug little smirk, it's burned inside my eyelids. Garcia's face falls in what looks like disappointment.

"Ugh Y/N! That's nothing chill out, why does it matter if he heard your call? I know you guys are all weird but none of that is any of his business anyway!" she shoo's her hand in the air, dismissing the whole situation.

"No Garcia, it is his business now" I have to close my eyes when I say it, I can't look at her "I told my Mom that he was my date, well, I didn't say his name or anything, she assumed it was someone from work and so I just agreed, and then she suggested that it was him and then I fucking panicked Pen, I fucked up so bad. What do I do?"

I finally opened my eyes to look up at Garcia. She was sitting in pure silence, pursing her lips in what seemed like contemplation. The puzzle pieces finally slotting together. It's as though a light bulb goes off behind her eyes and she bursts out in fits of laughter. Doubling over on herself before finally taking a few breaths to calm herself down. I'm honestly not sure why she finds the whole thing so funny, she know's how needlessly annoying he's made my life, she's seen it first hand and heard me talk about it over and over again in this very apartment over pizza.

"Garcia, this is not fucking funny! This is serious!" I try to calm her down, I need advice not whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry Y/N, I love you dearly. But this isn't funny, this is hilarious. It's like you're Sandra Bullock in some mid-90's rom com. I love it" I don't love it, in fact I hate it. I nearly snap at her but pull myself back.

"Pen, come on, help me out. What do I do with this, how do I fix it?" I plead.

She stops laughing and pulls out her phone, "Okay, I'm sorry. I'm going to order us a pizza, and we're gonna sort this thing out together, sound good?" I just nod and collapse back into the sofa. I think I feel better now that I've gotten it out in the open.

----

Penelope makes us tea while we wait for the pizza, she keeps lemon & ginger in her cabinet for me, just like I keep mint for her. The warm mug and the steam calm me down. After a few minutes alone to think about it I start to figure it out a little better. I figure I can just lie to my Mom for a while, it might suck but I can pretend for a bit and then make up some excuse as to why he can't come closer to the time. Then I can just bring Garcia instead and everyone's happy. I'm about to float my plan to her there's a knock on her door. I was so caught up that I hadn't really noticed quite how starving I'd gotten. Leaping up of the sofa to grab the door.

I swing it open but it's not the pizza guy. Somehow it's the opposite of the pizza guy, my worst nightmare is on the other side of the door. He must notice my eyes blow completely wide. "Y/N!" he says, more of a statement than a question really, like he's telling himself that he's actually seeing me in the doorway. I'm not as gentle.

"What the fuck are you doing here Reid?!" I can't even disguise my anger. He seems a little flustered, like he's got absolutely no idea how to proceed.

"Um, uh, is Garcia here? I can, um, I can just come back later?" he swallows hard and shakes his head, before I can agree and tell him to get lost Penelope races to the door, pulling it wide open.

"Nope, that won't be necessary Doctor! Come on in, you're right on time sweetheart" she waves him in and he walks past me, his demeanor changing almost instantly. He's smug, like he's won whatever battle this was. And I hate it. Though he's still as confused as me despite the newfound attitude. Reid sits down on the sofa, right where I had been sitting. I bite my tongue and sit on the opposite end.

"Are you okay Garcia?" he asks with a genuine concern, "What's going on, what was the emergency?". He's not stupid, he knows she's not in danger now that he's here. But he wants answers. I don't know that I've ever seen him this confrontational with anyone, well anyone but me. The entire time I’m staring her down as she sits in the armchair opposite the two of us. My keys are in my pocket and my car's right outside. I could just jump up and make a break for it. Escape.

"You know what Doc, you won't believe it but I'm not actually the one with the emergency" she takes a beat, and I'm starting to think that I might understand why people murder other people after all these years, "Y/N has something urgent she needs to talk to you about" she's silent for another moment, and she almost looks giddy, "Actually Spencer, you might already know a little something about the matter already, now that I think about it" she smirks, and it's pure joy.

My keys are in my hand ready to bolt when the doorbell chimes again. "Oh, that'll actually be the pizza this time, if you two will excuse me" she hops up out of the armchair and races to the door, leaving the two of us alone in a horrible silence. The tension is almost too much, I want to speak but I really have no idea what to say, or how to even start saying it. But he starts.

"Y/N what's going on, I feel like I'm out of the loop here? What am I missing?" he asks, and there's something uncharacteristically genuine about the way he says it, but he can't turn to look at me as he speaks. I almost want to let my guard down and just have a conversation but I can’t force myself to do it. "Shut up Reid." is all I mutter, folding my arms across my chest.

He turns sharply on the sofa to face me. "Hey Y/N. Believe it or not I'm about as happy as you with whatever kind of Parent Trap situation Garcia's got going on here. But from what I'm picking up on you've got a problem and I'm supposed to be able to help with it. So do you want to tell me what's going on or not? I can just go?" I can see that there's an anger bubbling right below the surface, threatening to burst. I know I shouldn't but I let him stew in silence for a little too long and he jumps up off the sofa.

"Y'know what, typical" he mutters, rolling his eyes as he says it, "this is all about you." he throws his bag over his shoulders and begins to walk towards the door. Something in me just snaps.

"All about me?! Are you fucking kidding? I've been tip-toeing around you for years, ever since I joined this damn unit!" I shout as Garcia comes back into the room, pizza box and plates in her hands.

"So, who's hungry?" Garcia asks, trying to break the tension, or pretending there's no tension at all. Reid shakes his head in disbelief and rubs his temple before he speaks again, "Actually I was just gonna head out" he gestures to the door, "I'm clearly not wanted here so I'm gonna leave you guys to it." Spencer makes a move to leave but Garcia grabs the strap of his shoulder bag, yanking him back ever so slightly before he really has the chance to escape.

"You are going absolutely nowhere kid" She points back to the sofa, "get back there" she glances to me, staring with far too much intensity. "You too, sit." Her voice is more stern than I've ever heard it, even while we were on a case. I can't help but obey her command and I sit back down on the sofa in silence. Followed by Reid, clearly processing the same uneasy feeling of a serious Penelope.

She sits opposite the two of us again. "Y/N, Spencer, I love the two of you with all of my heart, albeit separately, and I would die for either one of you. But you've got to chill the hell out!" she says it like she's had it bottled up forever. The tension that releases from her as she says it looks euphoric.

She opens up the pizza box and lays it on the coffee table and takes out a slice for herself. Taking a bite she leaves the two of us in stunned silence. Once she finishes the mouthful she turns to me specifically, "Y/N you tell him, or I will." dead serious. And the feeling in my belly is like I've just fallen down an elevator shaft.

My stomach is in knots as I turn to Spencer on the sofa next to me. His face is puzzled and I think I might be able to make out pure terror in his expression. I don't know that I've ever been looked at like this before and my stomach screws up tighter. I have to take a deep breath and I can't believe I'm about to say it. "Fuck it" I have to take another breath almost immediately so I just have to force the rest out, "I don't know if you heard the call I was on while we were in the elevator earlier?" I look up to gauge his reaction and I can see his face relax, and worse than that, one corner of his mouth lifts into a sort of smile. It's a look of pure smug satisfaction and I think I might scream. I have to close my eyes because I really don't think I can look at that face as I say the next part.

"My sister is getting married in a few months and my Mom's been on my ass to find a date for the wedding and she keeps trying to set me up with these losers, so I fucking panicked, and I told her you were my date." by the time the sentence is out my eyes have screwed up so tight it feels like I have to pry them open.

He sits in silence for too long. Thinking, maybe?

"So I'm the boy who teases you then?" he grins. So he did hear. And he did laugh. He looks far too self satisfied. Now he knows he's right. He knows I've talked to my Mom about him, that he's gotten in my head. I can tell from his smile that he's savoring the moment. Mostly because I can't slap the smug smile off his face I drop my head into my hands. In an effort to disappear I guess.

"So," he says, taking a moment, "is that all you wanted to say then?" he asks, lighthearted and obnoxious, back to his usual self. I snap back to reality, shooting my head back up.

"What do you mean is that all?" I throw back genuinely shocked,

"Is that all you had to say Y/N? Can I go now? It's a long bus ride home y'know" he smirks but makes no effort to move. He can't possibly be making me do this.

"Well no, obviously!" I stutter, "I mean, are you, will you, uh?" I can't bring myself to say it out loud. He leans in on the sofa looking directly at me, refusing to break eye contact.

"Did you have something you wanted to ask me Y/N?" I just want to smack that fucking look off his face,

"Fuck you Spencer Reid" I almost whisper under my breath, but Garcia snaps me back to reality.

"Hey!" she looks at me, stern again, "Ask him." it's not a question, or a suggestion, it's a command.

"Fine okay" I scrunch my eyes up again, "Will you come to my sisters wedding with me as my fake boyfriend?" I curl up into myself as I say it, I can almost feel the bile rising up from my stomach. Like I'm having a biological reaction to the whole thing.

Reid crosses his arms and sinks back on the sofa, like he's performing the act of thinking. He's considering my offer to make me squirm.

When he finally speaks he says "Well I would Y/N, but I really fail to see what's in it for me" he's after getting cocky now.

Garcia pipes up, excited, "Oh, Oh! I know! I have an idea!" she interjects, "Spencer remember how a while ago, back after your apartment flooded you were all all worried about your antique books and prints and stuff?" he nods, "Well Y/N could digitize the collection for you as a back up? I know you're a technophobe? C'mon Y/N, you know you could do that no sweat, and it would take you a lifetime alone Spencer?" I really don't want to admit it but she's right. Even I knew Reid was adverse to any technology that wasn't vital, but it was your specialty. And maybe that was a good trade off, a job like that would be near impossible for him to pull off without help. I take a glance over at Reid and he seems to have had the same train of thought as me. He lets out an exaggerated sigh and relaxes his posture.

"Fine, I guess that's a fair trade. I'm in." he resigns and I almost can't believe it. I'm barely processing the whole conversation as he sticks his hand out to me, I'm confused for a second before I grab it and shake it firmly. Condemning myself to whatever's about to happen. And it's not the time to be thinking about it but maybe this is the first time Spencer and I have ever touched? But I shove that thought away.

Garcia's positively beaming and she's not even trying to hide it. "Now it's like you're both in a Sandra Bullock movie, oh, but you're Hugh Grant maybe?" she points to Reid.

"Don't push it" I shoot in her direction, taking a slice of pizza, now that my anxiety stomach has sort of passed.

Once the pizza's been eaten in near completely awkward silence Spencer stands up off the sofa. His unsure demeanor has returned and he looks nervous. "I actually should get going this time" he says but Garcia pipes up to protest,

"No, it's not even late!"

"It takes me a while to get back home, thank you though Pen. For... this?" he gestures to the whole living room, "Night" he waves. He's almost made it to the door before I stand up out of my seat. I'm not really sure what comes over me, maybe it's gratitude, maybe it's guilt, or maybe I'm just exhausted.

"Wait Spencer. Let me give you a ride home?" I ask and it's like it's not even me saying it .

"Thanks, but I think I can make it home just fine" he dismisses, and there’s an antagonizing tone in his voice that snaps me right back to our usual rapport.

"I'm trying to do a nice thing here, fuck! Just let me do something nice!" I snap, and he throws his arms up in surrender.

"Fine alright, if it'll make you feel better"

"Fuck you Reid" I mutter under my breath and I sort of hope that he does hear me really. If he's gonna be hostile about this I can be too. I give Garcia a hug goodbye but I'm going to scold her for this whole thing later.

----

I lead the way outside and climb into my car, Spencer hops into the passenger seat and it feels as strange as always to be alone with him. Especially because it's not an accident, and it's not in work. Maybe this was a horrible idea. He seems like he's unwilling to break the silence, so I just get it over with.

"Where the hell do you live man? I'm gonna need directions." I say, as deadpan as I can muster, which probably isn't all that intimidating.

"Sorry, yeah, so you're gonna want to turn on the ignition" he teases. I definitely wasn't intimidating enough.

"Don't push it" I say, turning to give him a cruel stare, he just reacts with a smirk, that same one from the elevator earlier.

"Oh, I'm pushing it?" he asks, feigning disbelief

"I'll kick you out of this damn car" is all I can think to say. He barely responds, he just lets out a soft chuckle. I want to ask 'what's so funny' but he speaks before I can get the words out.

"I can't believe you talk to your Mom about me" he continues to laugh. That's enough.

"You know what Reid, of course I have! I work with actual murderers on a daily basis and somehow you've been the only real source of friction in my life since I joined the BAU!" He stops giggling a little, but not entirely, he looks like he's making an effort to contain himself.

"I'm sorry. I guess I just never knew I got to you like that" he still finds the whole thing amusing, but I sure as hell don't.

"Directions, now" I demand, looking straight out the front windshield.

"Fine, keep going straight on this road for a while and I'll tell you when to turn" he says, finally playing nice.

The two of us drive silently for most of the journey, the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually we arrive outside his building, and it's nicer than I thought it would be. But I have no idea what I was really basing that on. For some reason it hadn't occurred to me that Dr. Reid lived in an actual home, I had pictured him sleeping upside down in a cave maybe, or in a cryogenic chamber with all the other life-like genius robots.

"So," he says, breaking the silence, "When is this wedding?"

"4 months from now, in and around" I respond, matter of factly. Spencer nods, taking it in.

"Alright, so I've got 4 months, in and around, to learn enough to convincingly pass as your loving boyfriend. Doesn't sound so difficult." he jokes, his tone harsh and sarcastic.

"Look Spencer, I know this is insane and honestly kind of stupid. But in all seriousness, you can back out right now if you're not on board with whatever this is. I'm telling you this is the last exit ramp." I try to say it with sincerity, giving him a genuine out if he's not comfortable with the weird set-up that Penelope pulled on us both. He thinks on it for a moment and shakes his head.

"So how are we gonna do this?" he asks, and I really thought he was going to back out. So I don't have an actual answer.

"Well, I uh, I haven't really given a plan much thought. How about I come over and start working on some of the stuff you want digitized like Garcia mentioned and I can use the time to give you the footnotes on my life?" I suggest, at least that would make it easier to knock things out all at once. Rather than having to spend even more of my free time with Reid than necessary. He looks content with the improvised plan.

"Alright, sounds good." he undoes his seatbelt and opens the door to hop out of the car before turning back to me, "Are you coming inside or what?"

— —

Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

[feathers-fallen-on-riverdale]

Season 1, Episode 1: Chapter 1 - The River's Edge These Aren't The People From My Polycule! (They Said What?)

[Ep. Statues: Already Watched/First Time Watching + Remember/Vaguely/Don't Remeber]

First off. It sort of slipped my mind that Jughead narrates the opening of each episode. Doesn't he become like a God type writer in the new season? Very Jensen coded of The CW to only know how to do one (1) thing.

Oh god that nasty "Welcome to Riverdale!" board.

Also I will probably be saying this a lot but what are these outfits? Cheryl and Jason are going for thier stupid little boat ride (really? A boat ride? In the morning? On July 4th?) dress all in white expect for Cheryl's bright red stilettos. Like no wonder first time watcher me though Cheryl killed her brother. All the white, the creepiness of the scene and the "are you scared Jason?" just convinced me Cheryl had ritualisticlly killed her brother in a fucked up horror movie girl kinda way. Instant way to make me stan her. Kinda disappointed she didn't (would now would also be a good time to mention that I completely forgot who actually killed Jason? Oops?). Anyway where is that AU? Where is that show?

"In those last moments I hope he suffered. May Jason Blossom burn in hell" ? Miss girl. Are we sure Betty's mom isn't the real family psychopath?

Also can we talk about Jughead in season 1. With his lil beanie and his camera. I'm like 90% he was written to be a movie nerd/buff then it was retconed to books and they never talk about it again? That was weird.

Lol okay so I forgot how privileged the Lodges are made out to be. But honestly, Veronica's mom? Kind of a MILF. Now that I think about it, aren't they like, the Riverdale Kardashians?

Girl naurrr the gay-bestfriend-ification of Kevin 😭💀. My mortal enemy. I will make Kevin a full fleshed character if it kills me. Kevin walked no-crawled so that Will from Stranger Things could stumble over to Mike only to be called a slur.

Also how old are these bitches supposed to be? 15 year olds do not look like that. What is in the water in Riverdale? Pfffff what am I talking about Archie is Just Like That TM.

Also something about the way the actors deliver thier lines. I can't explain it but it's hilarious. Maybe just cause it's the pilot and everything's a little stilted still.

Also I think Kevin wants to hit that (Archie). #LetKevinHitThat2022 #LetKevinBeArchiesGayAwakening2022

Oh Archie's music passion my beloved. I forgot that one too. Season 1 may not be as batshit as its descendants but it has it's gems.

Betty and Archie: having their disgusting little heterosexual talk

Me looked in the background: omg Pop Tate 😍😍😍

I used to laugh at the sketches of Riverdale on tiktok because the facial expressions were so greatly exaggerated. But nope, it's actually Just Like TM.

Omg Veronica's slow-mo entrance my beloved. Some would say it's over the top but honestly she's an icon, she's a legend and she is the moment. She deserves this.

Also I know I should be focused on the Archie and Veronica's meet-cute but there's this one shot of Betty's face that is absolutely sending me.

Betty said gay rights because I'm going to be homophobic towards a straight couple.

ALSO FRED ANDREWS. I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOU. ARCHIE STOP BITCHING AT YOUR FATHER.

Forgot just how... Karen-like Betty's mom was in season 1. I know it's out of worry but I can't wait for her character to flesh out (as much as it can on a CW show). Also I did not know Betty has ADHD?

Archie, honey, what is your handwriting. Okay, if Betty has ADHD then I want Archie to be dyslexic. They bond over being neurodivergent and mistake that comradery for love.

Nasty ass early season Chad Reggie 🤮🤮🤮. Where is my is my mafia bimbo meow meow. Give him to me now.

What. What was this moment. ONLY The CW. I would only accept this moment if Veronica was wearing a little bi or pan flag. Hold on.

Guys she sewed them on herself! (her mother taught her!) (I know it looks like shit alright I'm horrible at editing)

JOSIE! AND THE PUSSY CATS. Okay but genuinely they sound really good.

JUSTIN GINGERLAKE ??! Oh she's savage I love her. Also Josie and her girlies all use she/they pronouns because I said so.

Also the way Veronica talks. How does Camilla Mendes pull it off. What ever they're paying her, double it.

"Are you two dating?"

"No we're just friends."

"No he's straight.'

I stand by my earlier statment, #LetKevinHitThat2022

Oh god. The one plot line I wish I could desperately forget is the one where Archie fucks his music teachers. How is nobody noticing these 2 eyes fuck infront of the entire gymnasium.

Oh Fred and Hermione 😔

"Is cheerleading still a thing?"

"Is being the gay best friend still a thing?"

Shots fired. I am loving the mlm wlw hostility. At least The CW got gay on gay violence right.

Cheryl? Body shaming! What year is this?

They're trying to make me like or feel sympathy for Grundy and it's not working. I'm just waiting for her to leave.

Okay no actually I need her to DIE. A student is asking for help because he's feeling guilty and scared of something he's witnessed but your saying no because you fucked him? 🔪🔪🔪

Beronica kiss hello? Young sapphic me blocked this out because they could not deal with the emotions and revelations this brought her. Also this is beginnings/foundation of the Riverdale polycule. Also that kiss was.... a little longer than necessary 😏.

Cheryl is not impressed tho and honestly good for her. But that baiting scene. Sheesh I'm not one to judge be get a better coping mechanism honey. Betty's half moon scars I remember vividly. I wonder if they ever resolved that plotline.

Also. VERONICA ACTUALLY POPPED OFF NOT CLICKBAIT!???!!!???

WE COME AS A MATCHING SET? I AM THAT RECKONING? SORRY CHERYL BOMBSHELL MY SPECIALITY IS ICE?

I am losing it. Is this Riverdale's version of "Freedom is a lenght of rope and God wants you to hang yourself"?

Nope, now I've lost it. That scene! Where Veronica is zipping up Betty's cheerleading outfit and the sweet music is playing and they're all smiles and giggles and she turns around and Veronica compliments her and Betty just touches her in the same way Veronica did her even though Veronica was already set! AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH GOODBYE! The entire show could end right here and I wouldn't care. Also, I see you Veronica's black nail polish.

Oh Betty and Veronica's little chat after that felt very very real. Oh no this Supernatural all over again. Shit show, good moments that keep u coming back.

Okay Betty's mom is giving my mom vibes and that is not okay.

Fred's words to Archie about his future are ringing really true and are a really fresh and good twist on the parents dont support the kids passion trope.

Maybe this first season is actually good? Skdjkskdjd nah.

Omg our favourite trouple doing their entrance!

"What does your heart say?"

Archie: *looks over at Grundy*

Me: Come on, Grundy?!

Archie: *demands lessons*

Me: Oh he chose music!

Oh god.... I keep pausing the fantasy couple scene because I just can't.

Veronica and Kevin, mouthing: ask him about the polycule!

Betty, who can't read lips for shit: power couple? 🤔

The absolute silence on Archie's side. WHY did he look at Grunkle what's her face.

Let's see who's riding the ginger stallion tonight? WHO IS WRITING THESE SCRIPTS?

"Who are you asking for, you or Betty?"

Me: SAY BOTH

Veronica: *doesn't say both*

Me:

Me watching Archie and Veronica kiss even tho the polycule is in shambles before even fully forming:

Veronica and Hermione's relationship. God I wish I had something like that.

"Archie went looking for the girl next door. Instead he found me." Okayyyy, it's giving Jarchie.

Archie and Jughead's scene. First of all Jughead's dark humor. Love it. The talk to her. It'd go a long way. It'd have went a long way with me. Ooof. But also what did happen? Omg gay coming out went wrong!

Me watching the "I can't give you the answer you want" scene trying to focus on literally anything else but the forced monogamy in front of me: huh the way they shot this reminds me of the "I was there where were you scene".

Okay but let's put a pause on the polycule and talk about Barchie. Archie says something along the lines of "You are always perfect, I could never be good enough for you" and earlier on Betty said she's sick of being perfect, the perfect x,y,z for everyone else. I don't know if she's realised this but that may include being the perfect love interest for Archie. And Archie perceives her as Perfect when Betty just wants to be perceived. So if they were ever to get together, polycule or not they'd need to work past that.

Oh Moose. Didn't he just fade into the background as the show moved on or did I just forget him?

Oh Jason? Neat ig. Was he shot and his body dumped after the lake was searched? I can't even remember.

Unhinged rating: 3/10. There were some moments (mostly from Cheryl) mostly from the dialog and things I'd forgotten but this episode is really tame reconsidering my expectations for later seasons.

Tag list (you can ask to be added [or removed] though I doubt anyone will ask: @youre-only-gay-once

[gentlemancrow]

14: “I’m screwed” shippy JMart :) 💚

Ehehe this one got away from me a little bit! But ask for shippy Jmart get a gushy mooshy Crow! Please enjoy! ; w ;

“I’m screwed…”

Martin watched helplessly through the slats of the yellowed blinds on Jon’s office window as his entire life went up in flames. He dimly recalled some trite old saying about seeing one’s life flash before one’s eyes before the moment of unceremonious besmirching from the cruel mortal coil, but for him it was more of a hysterical repeated rewinding of every single bumbling misstep that had orchestrated his imminent demise.

From the moment he decided he had just enough time before work to pop into the Tesco for the usual bouquet of flowers for his visit to his mother later in the day, to the snap decision to get the one made of tulips, bright crimson, orange, and yellow like a flame, rather than the usual white lilies, all the way up to entering the institute, Elias stuffing a file for Jon in his already laden arms, and then the chaos that had erupted as he attempted to deliver it, he lived it all over again. First there was something about the kettle being on the fritz, and obviously since he used it the most frequently, clearly he knew how to repair errant electronic kitchen devices. He was halfway through chastising Tim for false equivalencies in his logic when Sasha had breezed past and asked for a report he’d supposed to be finished with the day prior, and somewhere in the snarking with Tim and the flailing over his dereliction of duty the flowers had been abandoned on Jon’s desk and the file tucked under his arm instead.

By the time Martin realized he was missing something bulky and crinkly and fragrant it was too late. Jon was already in his office, tatty messenger bag still looped around his chest, forgotten, staring at the fiery bouquet on his desk with the scientific method scrolling visibly through his pupils as he regarded it like a corpse on an autopsy table, hand in a fist with his thumb pressed to his lips. Martin had never wished harder for some sort of horrific creature of the darkness to strike the institute again and just devour him whole this time to put him out of his misery.

“You’re what, mate?” Tim’s adjacent query only intensified that desire.

“Tim! SHUSH!” he squeaked, grabbing his friend by the shoulders and hauling him out of the line of sight from the office window.

“Easy there, big guy!” he laughed, “What’s all the hullabaloo?”

“I’m SCREWED. Big time,” Martin moaned, burying his face, which had been bright scarlet since the moment his hubris had roosted, into his hands, “See those flowers in there? I bought those for my usual trip to see my mum this afternoon but somehow between you being an idiot and me also being an idiot and forgetting to finish that report I sort of… left them there… by accident…”

Jon, meanwhile, had finally set his bag down and had circled his desk like a vulture. He reached out with delicate fingers like forceps and pinched the very edge of the card to inspect it, which, unfortunately, only added to the mystery with its coquettish blankness, as Martin had yet to fill it in. Tim watched, nonplussed.

“So? What’s the big deal about that? Just go explain it to him and I’m sure he… Oh. OH,” he cackled as realization dawned on him, “Yeah, nope you’re screwed.”

“Thanks…”

“Ahh, don’t sweat it. The man’s so thick I’m sure he thinks it’s just a prank or some continued spooky attempt on his life or something. The absolute last thing he would think would be that you of all people would…” Tim stopped himself in the withering blue glare blazing at him from behind round spectacles, “Anyway, again, this is Jon we’re talking about. He’ll just treat it like some weird cosmic mystery until he burns himself out on it or the next one shows up.”

“Y-Yeah but-“

“Just go explain! Unless you want to watch him wriggle about it like a fish on a hook all day. Which I am diametrically unopposed to, by the way, sounds absolutely hilarious.”

Martin winced, hating the idea of being the missing chunk of code that caused Jon’s brain to glitch for the remainder of the day, and sucked in a breath between his teeth.

“No, no you’re right,” he sighed, “Just… no flowers at my funeral if he kills me, okay?”

“Kate Bush songs only, got it, yep.”

Martin rolled his eyes, not dignifying that with a response, and shuffled on mechanical feet to the closed door of Jon’s office. He rapped lightly a few times before pushing his way in, smiling sheepishly at the head archivist who had clearly just unceremoniously flung himself in front of the mysterious bouquet to hide it from view.

“Martin!” he barked, “What in the hell are you-“

“Uh, just needed to talk to you for a second.”

He closed the door behind him

“Oh, uh… about wh-“

“About those, actually,” Martin confessed through his teeth, pointing, mortified, at the coy spray of flaming tulips peeking out from behind Jon’s hip.

He whipped around to look at them, then back to his assistant, then back to the flowers again, the blush that only ever seemed to find the tips of his ears glowing like two carmine rosebuds there.

“…You?”

That unreadable earthy brown gaze, somewhere between wilting regency heroine and venomous snake ready to strike with fangs bared, harpooned Martin directly to the heart.

“No! God no! S-Sorry!” he yelped, flailing his hands defensively in the air, “I-I mean they are mine, yes, b-but I-! Th-They’re for my mum! I-I try to visit her in her care home if I can on Fridays, and I always bring her some flowers! I was supposed to be dropping off a file for you, but then Tim was hounding me about the broken kettle and Sasha needed that damned report and I was all mixed up and I… I forgot them here. On your desk. Your desk of all places. I still have the file and um… T-Trade you? Hah…”

Jon’s finely sculpted brow shifted from pinched, to bemused, to a strange, sorrowful relief as Martin finished lamely in falsetto and he chuckled under his breath.

“Ah… right. Right! I thought for a second someone might have um…” he snorted breathlessly, “Hah, I knew that was a preposterous notion.”

The metaphysical harpoon still in Martin’s chest shattered in icy shards of anguish as his heart collapsed under the weight of itself.

“Wh- Jon, is it really that preposterous a notion someone might want to bring you flowers?” he asked, crushed.

Jon flourished a flippant, elegant hand.

“Come on Martin, this is me we’re talking about. I’ve never gotten flowers once in my life. I’m not the kind of person people think to buy flowers for. It’s not a big deal.”

“Well then let me be the first!” Martin insisted, his mouth and heart moving in tandem before his brain could stop them.

Jon’s brow creased again.

“What? Good lord no, I’m not going to take the flowers you bought for your mother. Who is also in a care home, mind.”

“I’d much rather give them to you.”

The skeptical expression marring Jon’s face did little to hide the blush flourishing at the tips of his ears again.

“Look. We’re friends now, aren’t we?” Martin elaborated shyly, “Friends can send each other flowers. And honestly? My mum doesn’t even like them… no matter what kind I bring. They usually end up being for her nurse instead. So I… I think they’ll have a much better home with you.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Jon’s mouth, snipping an invisible thread that softened his entire face into something innocent and full of wonder.

“I see. If you’re sure, I suppose I could…”

“I’m very sure,” Martin replied without hesitation, “Just tell people an old friend sent them out of the blue, or you have a secret admirer or something!”

“Well I don’t know about all that, but-” Jon chuckled, smiling softly, “Thank you. Just the same.”

Martin looked up, just for a moment, and met Jon’s gaze, letting the piercing erudite wood of it lay bare his fluttering heart.

“You’re welcome…”

Jon shifted in the beat of ensuing silence, his eyes flicking away from sky blue radiance to shift his shoulders back into a professional square.

“You uh, said you had a file for me?”

“Oh! Yes! Right! I-I will go fetch that file for you indeed and uh-! Oh yeah! Make sure you snip off the ends of the stems a bit before you put them in water. Helps them last longer,” Martin offered, snapping out of his enchantment and already slinking backwards to the door, “Oh and also! When they start to go, I’ll show you how to press one in a book, so you can keep it, if you like!”

“I’d like that very much, actually.”

Martin smiled, nodded, and saluted awkwardly as he escaped Jon’s office and closed the door behind, leaving him in private to wait until he was sure no one would see. Once he was certain, he preciously gathered the tulips into his hands and brought them to his nose, breathing in the field bright scent of his very first bouquet from a secret admirer.

[siimjaeyun]

blue bag- jay park

genre: fluff, angst, bad boy au

tw: street violence, mentions of gangs

-------

Jay's reputation at Belift wasn't exactly a secret to most people. The loose uniform with the leather jacket, covered bruises, and exposed tattoos were noticeable to anyone who bothered to pay attention.

Most people would like to assume to not judge him by his appearance, but his character matched it to a tea. He never bothered to give anyone the time of the day, much less even look in their direction. The only people who received such privileges were his closest six friends.

Or anyone who dared to cross his path- including the slight punches he's thrown at the occasional classmate.

But people couldn't see behind his intentions. Like the time he almost beat one of uppers to a pulp when they tried picking on jungwon his first year. All good intentions.

On this fateful day, the teacher had thought a slight change would mix things up. Instead of placing Jay in the back by himself like usual, he placed him right beside you.

"Hi Jay!" Your warm welcome startled him to say the least. Sure, he was used to love letters by other girls, but you didn't really look at him that way.

He stayed silent and placed his head back onto the desk. At the end of class, you bid him goodbye and walked out with your friends who seemed to tattle over him almost immediately.

-------

After yet again another argument with the rivaling gang leader, he finds himself cornered in the back of an alley way. Maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to think you could fight five men at once.

Tired, and out of breath, he's barely holding onto himself before there's a final blow to his lower stomach, collapsing onto the ground before him.

The men are about to approach him, this time, aiming towards his back, but retreat at the sounds of a siren.

"Here, hurry! They might come back." He looks up and finds it's you, carrying a bag in one hand and reaching out towards him with the other.

"Get lost." Jay, who is too stubborn to ask for help, attempts to get up before his knees give up on him.

"You can't walk. Stop being a bitch and let me help you." You swing his arm over your shoulder, and pull him up, guiding him towards the exit of alley way. At the closest convenience store, you rest him on a bench, bringing a towel to his face to wipe off the blood from his brow and lip.

"How did you see me?" He barely manages to ask.

"I didn't know it was you until I saw your face, which is very beat up by the way." He observes quietly and patiently waits for you retreat the towel from his face, slowly admiring the way you move your eyebrows while humming a small beat. 

“I’m done. I’ll call a taxi to take you home so you can finish up. I’m going to assume this isn’t the first time you get beat up.” Jay, snapping back to reality, stands up quickly and blocks your view of the street. 

“I can manage. Now go home.” He nods towards the direction of the grand city. 

“You can barely walk. Either I take you home, or text someone to come pick you up.” Jay immediately takes the second option, and searches quickly for his phone before realizing he must of left at it home. 

“Go ahead, call the taxi.” He mutters under his breath. The bright lights signal to him that he has arrived, and in silence, you drop him off, and leave, not letting Jay even look back and say a quick ‘thank you.’ 

----- 

If Jay didn’t know any better, it’s almost as if nothing had occurred yesterday. He’s still wearing his black mask to cover up his bruises, but you walked in with a smile and the same welcome from the past two weeks. 

Usually, he would turn the other way or not even bother to look at you, but his slight nod was reassurance enough. 

At the end of class, he was almost the last to leave, given that he had woken up from napping the entire class. Rather than seeing the empty room he was used to waking up in, he saw you again in front of him, holding a blue bag. 

“Here. Eat well okay?” You left the bag onto his desk and walked out again before he could respond. He stuffed the bag into his backpack and went towards the lunch room he was used to meeting his friends in. 

“Jay’s late and beat up. What a surprise.” Sunoo’s snarky comment doesn’t catch him off guard, and instead pulls out the blue bag from his backpack and rests it on the table. 

“Oh? Jay brought lunch? Quick, let’s rate his cooking skills.” Before Jay can react, Heeseung had already snatched it from the table, pulling out a Tupperware with a sticky note on top. 

“Who’s y/n? And why did she call you a loser?” Heeseung asks, opening the container to a bento box. 

“No one, now give it back.” Jay takes back the container, almost admiring the contents inside. 

It was the first time his heart began to take notice of you. 

----- 

Everyone was quickly suspicious about Jay’s relationship with you. It all started with him publicly going to you and thanking you for the food. Then it was the constant good mornings when you would welcome him at the beginning of class. Then it was the morning coffee, and walking you to class in the morning. He was practically stuck to you when he wasn’t with his friends. 

“You know, I think Jay likes you.” One of your friends mentioned casually, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Stop taking those rumors too seriously, he’s just paying back a favor.”

Yet, your friends weren’t the only ones who were beginning to notice. Most noticeably, Jay’s very own friends. 

“Sunghoon, I don’t like her, so can you shut up?” Jay, almost irritated by the constant confusion of emotions. 

“So, you wouldn’t mind her being so close with Sunoo?” Jake points at your direction. You laughing and trying to hold yourself together while punching Sunoo in the arm. 

“No. Of course not." Yet, he still finds himself burning holes into Sunoo's skull as he sees you wrap an arm around his neck to pull him into a head lock.

It seemed as if that was the last straw because in the next moment, Sunghoon was attempting to prevent Jay's next big mess.

"Get your hands off him." Jay commands, catching not only your attention, but those around him as well.

"Relax Jay, she's just playing around." Sunoo gets himself out of the head lock, and looks at your face who's been cleared of any laughter.

"I'll see you later Sunoo." You can't even look at Jay in the eyes before walking off with another friend.

"What's wrong with you? You know she wasn't hurting me!"

"Don't talk to me right now Sunoo." Jay storms off in the opposite direction while Sunoo turns his head to the side at Sunghoon.

"Am I going to die?"

"Not yet anyway. I think if you stay off y/n, maybe it'll extend your life line." Sunghoon states honestly.

"What do you think would happen if I told him she's my cousin?"

"I don't know but I've never seen Jay so..like this. Its a good look on him."

However, Jay is his full fledged rage, begins to shove everyone in his way including a poor freshman who happens to fall in front of your locker.

"Jay what the fuck!? Are you okay?" You crouch down and reach your hand out, giving Jay a bitter feeling.

"Is this how you catch men? You pretend to be the good guy?"

"Excuse me?" You repeat, shocked at Jay's sudden attitude.

"Nevermind just stay away from me? Got it?" You don't even process the words before he dashes off, ignoring his friends who are attempting to catch his attention.

"Sunghoon, what's his issue ?" Sunghoon only let's out a heavy sigh before shrugging his shoulders.

"It's not my business, but I can assure you that anger won't end well."

-----

And it just so happens that Sunghoon's response was quiet accurate considering Jay's familiar situation. He's been long enough member of his gang to know what territories they're not exactly welcomed.

Yet, he doesn't care and does so anyway because anything is better than having to imagine you with some one else.

"Haven't seen you in a while Jay, must have been busy hmm." The leader mocks him, but it only infuriates the pent up anger within him causing him to land a punch at his gut.

"Don't test me." And as if history repeats itself, he finds himself once more cornered in the back of an alley way. With the collection of bruises forming on his stomach, one could tell he was a kick or two away from a good surgery.

"Jay! Stop!" He curses himself mentally when he watches you run towards him.

"You better leave pretty one...I mean unless..." He approaches you, reaching for your chin to tilt it sidewards, leading to Jay using his last strength to push him off you.

"Don't touch her." Jay grits his teeth, earning a smirk that quickly turns into a frown at hearing the sound of police sirens.

"You got lucky this time." He flees the scene leaving you again with a bloodied up Jay.

"You promised me to not fight anymore!" Jay chooses to ignore you and limps away to a nearby post.

"And I told you to stay away from me y/n. I don't need people like you to worry about me because they pity me" He responds.

"How am I not supposed to worry when you left so suddenly? One moment we're good and the next you're mad at Sunoo and everyone?" You place him on the stair case while getting your first aid kit ready.

"How am I supposed to stay away when you worry me? Do you have any idea how fast I ran here with this when Jake told me you weren't at your house?" You continue to apply a bit of alcohol on his open cuts.

"I'm sorry, I was upset. I saw you with Sunoo earlier and I don't know what came over me. Sunoo is so darn perfect, and what about me? I was afraid you'd leave me." Jay mumbles the last part quietly, but you manage to hear it well.

Without much hesitancy, you press a light kiss onto his bruised and swollen lips. He gasps slightly but manages to wrap his arms around your waist.

"I'm not leaving okay, I'm here to stay if you want me to." Jay grabs you and pulls you in for a hug, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

"Please stay." He mumbles, letting his grip on you get stronger. He stays there for a while, before looking at the blue bag in your hand.

"What's this?"

"I brought some dinner because I figured you would be too lazy to do it yourself and end up eating frozen nuggets again." He smiles slightly before admiring your features.

"I really like you y/n.." Jay confesses, still in the position of hugging you.

"I like you too Jay...I really do." A grin forms on his face and he drops another kiss on your cheek before leading the way out.

Perhaps Jay wasn't exactly perfect, but you always knew he was more than ready to love and learn by your side.

------

a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts haha, but I figured we could all use a little fluff with everything going on :( <3

[goodgirlofglory]

That which lingered on his mind /Chapter 6

Chapter 5 - Epilogue

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader(series), Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,1k

Warnings: 18+, non-con(series), dub-con(series), Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, oral (f/m receiving), angst, fluff

Chapter summary: You and Steve reunite after three months of silence to find each longing just as much for the other. Much needed closure takes place, and you find comfort in each other’s arms...

Author’s note: This chapter is just a huge ball of fluff (and some smut). I can’t seem to let go of the feeling that Steve and Y/N belong together, and neither can they lol. There will be one more part to this series, and possibly an epilogue. Thank you so much to those who have followed the series, and to those of you who are new. I love you guys for all the love and feedback you give, it makes my heart melt<3 The end of this chapter is consciously and heavily inspired by this fic by @wkemeup. Both this and the first part is an absolutely amazing and exhilarating read which I continuously return to, so I heartily recommend you go check it out! Your media consumption is your own responsibility, but I advise you to not engage if any of the content in the warnings are troubling to you. My work is not beta-read, so all mistakes are my own. My work is not the be distributed outside this blog. Reblogs, likes and replies are very welcome!! Hope you enjoy<33

 You had stared so much at the slip of paper on the fridge, you’d practically memorized the digits by now. 

Three months had gone by since you left the Avengers compound, the steady rhythm of your day-to-day making it seem almost like a dream by now. 

A moving truck had come and packed Steve’s apartment up and out during the first week, and you’d been embarrassed by the way you’d spied on them through the peephole in your door. 

Fury and Natasha had swore on S.H.I.E.L.D’s behalf to not contact you further unless there was any sign of danger, and there had been complete radio silence on their part since then. 

You now had no idea where Steve Rogers was in the world, or how he was. You actually missed him...like a lot. 

You stood in your kitchen, mindlessly flipping through a magazine on a wednesday afternoon when your eyes kept  returning to the slip of paper on the fridge. You’d considered contacting him before. Every day for the last three months, in fact. But you’d always shook the thought from your head. Surely it wouldn’t be good for him to open up those wounds again.. 

No, you should let him move on...even if you couldn’t.

But that night the thought was completely unshakeable, restless adrenaline fueling your body as the slip of paper called out to you. 

With a huff, you closed the magazine, stalked up to the fridge and ripped the paper off. 

Just burn it, get rid of it, make it impossible to contact him so that you have no choice but to move on. 

That was the rational thought, the one you should’ve headed.

But instead, you found yourself flinging your phone out and with shaky fingers tapping the digits into it before pressing the green phone icon with a decisive thumb. 

Your elevated heartbeat thumped through your body as you held the phone to your ear, actually sweating. 

Two buzzing tones droned on by, each filling you with instant regret, before the third was abruptly cut off.

“Rogers speaking.”

Your breath caught in your throat. There he was.

“Hello? Who is this?” he pressed.

“Eh..hi Steve,” you stuttered out awkwardly. 

You held your breath as the silence from the other end droned on. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah, um...hi,”

“Hi,” he answered, sounding incredulous.  

“Hi,” you said, distracted by his voice, even as distorted as it was through the phone. 

A moment passed with complete silence before you snapped back to yourself.

“Um, I...Natasha gave me your number, if you’re wondering,” you blurted out.

“Y-yeah, I suppose I should be wondering about that,” he answered, “H-How are you? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everythings fine,” you rushed out. For a moment, a panicked voice in the back of your head yelled how dumb you looked. Steve clearly thought you were calling because of some trouble with S.H.I.E.L.D or Hydra. It’d been three months, he was probably not thinking about you anymore.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” you heard him say from the other end of the line.

Oh

“I mean, I’ve been hoping you were okay, you know, doing well,” he quickly corrected himself. 

“I’ve been thinking about you too,” you whispered. 

“Sorry, what was that? This phone is kinda old...I think, so it’s difficult to hear you.”

“Yeah, uh, Steve...I was wondering if you’d..maybe, possibly, if you have time...like to talk. With me. Face to face, that is,” you stammered out in such a way, embarrassment burned on your cheeks by the time you were done.

“I’d really like that,” he answered, and you thought you might hear a smile in his tone.

“Great,” you breathed, relief washing over you, excitement setting in its wake. 

§

You were sweating bullets as you looked out over the lake in Central Park, the spring sun warm on your skin as you waited. 

You were thirty minutes early, not being able to sit still back at home. 

You noticed him the moment he appeared over Cherry Hill, your breath picking up as he got nearer. 

He was dressed in a pale blue button up and the brown leather jacket you knew so well from the hallway. He was clean shaven and his hair was cut short. He looked like the Steve who’d lived next door to you for so many years. 

He stopped a few feet away.

You looked at each other in silence, and there was this sweet ache spreading throughout your heart as you looked into his shining, blue eyes. 

“Thank you for meeting me,” he said sincerely after a moment. 

“Yeah, well I was the one who called you,” you said sheepishly.

“True...Natasha, huh?” he said, and now there was amusement in his voice. 

“Natasha,” you repeated. 

God, you wanted to reach out and touch him, you’re body buzzing with energy from having him this close. It was magnetic.

“Do you wanna walk?” you said instead, hoping you were masking your shivering form well enough. 

“Sure thing,” he said, and you fell into step along the lake, missing the way his eyes lingered on you. 

You talked about small stuff for a while, falling into such a comfortable pace you were soon giggling and joking, watching intently as Steve threw his head back in a hearty laugh at one point. 

It all just felt so right, so tranquil as the sun set on the park, the time having flown by.

“Oh damn,” you said, looking down at your watch, “I’ve gotta go.”

“Can I walk you home? For once I could say knowing where my date lived wouldn’t be creepy,” Steve answered, his cheeks turning a bright flush of pink when he understood what he’d said. 

You averted your eyes, way too exhilarated by his words to keep eye contact.

“I didn’t mean...That just slipped out, I know that’s not why you asked me to meet you,” he continued, awkwardly scratching his neck, the air between you suddenly thick. 

“Honestly, I don’t know why I called you,” you said, stopping dead in your tracks and looking at him. The park was nearly empty around you, varm street lights blinking to life. 

This is it, you thought as he looked into your eyes with mild confusion, blue eyes intense. 

“I just knew that I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you admitted nervously while looking down at your shoes. You could feel the words slipping out of you, but you couldn’t stop the ramble coming on. “It’s like I can’t handle myself. I probably shouldn’t be this drawn to you, considering the things that happened, but I am. For I don’t see those things anymore. All I see is you...and you’re…”

You trailed off as your eyes met his, his face contorted in an expression you couldn’t quite decipher. 

He stepped closer to you, and you swallowed hard, your throat dry all of a sudden. Your body surged with the need to touch him.

He stood mere inches away from you now, looking down at you with such intensity, you shivered.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, either,” he whispered. His hand came up to cup your cheek, but he stopped himself a few centimeters away, hesitating. 

Reaching your limit, you leaned into his touch. The warmth of his hand felt like a balm on your skin, making you sigh in instant content. 

“I need you to tell me this is alright,” he said, and you heard the tremor in his voice, the way his breath was uneven, his body rigid. 

“This is alright,” you whispered.

“I need you to say stop the moment I overstep,” he said, urgency in his tone.

“You won’t,” you answered.

“Just tell me you’ll say stop,” he interrupted, almost desperate as his grip on your cheek became more strained. 

You understood consent was just as important to him in that moment, if not more.

“I will,” you said with a nod.

He let out a small sigh of relief, his eyelashes fluttering for a tiny second.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked then, and you thought your heart would fly out of your chest.

“Yes,” you whispered desperately.

He surged forward, but pressed his lips to yours softly, tentatively, sweet and gentle. 

Your body seemed to implode, sparks jolting through every nerve. 

His hand reached back to hold your neck, the other arms wrapping around your waist to press your body firmly to his. Your hands wringed the leather of his jacket as they went around to cling to his back. You stood flush against each other, and still you needed him closer. 

The kiss grew more hungry and Steve seemed almost starved as his mouth devoured yours. You broke the kiss once you both were out of breath, and Steve leaned his forehead to yours. 

“Walk me back to mine?” you asked hopefully.

He nodded enthusiastically, before drawing you in for another searing kiss. 

§

Back at your apartment, he hesitated slightly at your doorstep, and you remembered suddenly that he had never been inside except when under Hydra’s control.

You squeezed his hand and he followed you inside.

You removed your coat while he took off his jacket, and though there had been a tense moment, you soon found yourself kissing him slow and tenderly as you stood in your living room. 

His thumb stroked your jaw softly when you broke the kiss, still in each other's arms. 

“Do you remember that time I lent you a penny, down in the laundry room?” he asked, eyes trailed to where his thumb was caressing your face. 

You couldn’t help a tiny laughter. 

“Yeah, when you’d been so lucky as to hear me imitate a dying trumpet before you came in, I believe,” you answered. 

Now it was his time to laugh, and it felt so unbelievably good to feel it vibrate from his chest and through your body. 

“A rather cute, dying trumpet, I remember thinking,” he added. You barked out a giggle.

He was swaying you softly now, dancing to music only the two of you could hear. 

“Did you know that’s one of my favorite songs?” he asked then, sounding genuinely curious. 

You waited a bit before answering, contemplating how honest you should be. 

“Where do you think I knew it from? You only blasted it through the walls about a hundred times a week,” you teased, earning a tickle from his hand at your waist. 

You squirmed in his arms, and you both laughed heartily. 

Then his expression grew more sincere, and you almost lost your breath as his deep, blue eyes looked into yours with such raw and honest emotion. 

“I used to think about someone very special when listening to that song -” he admitted, and you felt a small tug of jealousy in your chest “- but ever since that very...memorable performance - “ now it was your turn to tickle him, both of you giggling as he squirmed slightly. He grew serious again, holding you tightly to him - “whenever I heard that song, all I could think about was you.”

“Is that why I never heard you playing it again?” you teased, not being able to help yourself. 

He gave an exaggerated sigh, and you loved how flustered he became. 

“I think I played it more often after that, actually,” he said before bending down slowly to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

A lump was forming in your throat, his words unleashing joy you hadn’t felt in such a long time. 

“If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t be out of Hydra’s control,” he said, the gravity of his words enforced by the intense look of gratitude in his eyes. 

“I’m sure they would have saved you somehow, Steve,” you said. 

“Yeah, maybe. But there’s no denying how special you are,” he answered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Especially to me,” he added after a moment. 

You’d stopped swaying, now staring into each other’s eyes as the silence engulfed you. You could hear your blood pumping in your ears. 

“And I don’t even, really know you,” he said, astonishment in his tone. 

You know parts of me really well, you thought to yourself. You didn’t say it out loud though. One day you would probably be able to laugh at all this, but not now. Now you needed time to heal.

“We have time for that now,” you answered him reassuringly, your hand coming up to stroke lovingly about his cheek. 

He leaned into your touch with a hum.

“As long as you’ll have me,” he murmured, eyes on yours as he kissed the inside of your palm. 

You pulled him in for a kiss as your answer, the meeting of your lips so tender and affectionate, it said a thousand words. 

You soon pulled him into your bedroom, a trail of clothes left behind as you slowly and carefully explored each other with your hands and mouths, falling onto the bed with a giggle.

His body was the same, glorious, but there was a gentleness to him now that you had scarcely seen before, a new Steve you relished. 

He undressed you slowly, worshipping every new patch of skin that revealed itself with his lips and tongue, and you were heaving for breath shortly enough, arousal burning hot in the pit of your stomach. 

He let you wrap your hands around his rock hard length when you were both naked. It felt so exhilarating to have him back in your grasp. You started to slowly drag your hand up and down, eliciting quiet grunts from him. 

He pushed you gently down on your back and dragged you to the edge of the bed. He positioned himself on his knees on the floor and gave you an inquiring look, silently asking for permission.

You nodded, biting your lip as your fingers glided through his hair, desperate for his mouth. 

After that he ascended on your pussy, devouring you with renewed passion, like he was savouring every detail.

You threw your head back against the mattress, your moans urging him on. 

His fingers entered you slowly, the glide made smooth by your slick.

“God, you’re soaked,” he panted against your mound, breath tickling your clit. 

“It’s all for you,” you moaned out, eyes falling shut as he curled his fingers against that sweet, spongy spot inside you, so soft, so gentle. His tongue returned to your clit with a groan. He worked you over the edge with deft expertise, and groaned long and hard when your thighs squeezed around his head as you came, seeing stars. 

He gave your thighs an affectionate squeeze before crawling over you. 

You eagerly welcomed his tongue as it swept into your mouth, your own, tangy taste catching on your tastebuds.

He let you roll him over so you were straddling him before you started to explore his body with hands and mouth. You had waited so long to finally be able to worship him, dipping your tongue along every dip and pan of smooth skin and rippling muscles as you slowly crept down. 

His cock jumped when your lips ghosted over the leaking, purple head, bobbing against his stomach. You were about to take him into your mouth when his hands lifted your face up to look at him.

“You don’t have to,” he started, but you saw how blown his eyes were, how his eyebrows were knitted in anticipation. 

You playfully swatted his hands away before smiling. 

“I want to,” you said, and he nodded eagerly, watching intently as you took him in your hand before enclosing the bulbous head into your hot and wet mouth, holding his gaze as you sucked. 

His whole body jolted with an almost startled moan. 

God, he sounded so good

 The tingling in your lower abdomen grew anew as you steadily worked him into your mouth, your tongue swiping along the veins of the underside before lapping at the salty precum adorning the head. 

His fists clenched the sheets on either side of his body as you bobbed your head faster and faster, his groans growing louder as he lost himself in the pleasure. He could have finished right then and there and you wouldn’t have minded one bit. You felt privileged to witness such a magnificent sight. 

He stopped you by gripping your hair and tugging it lightly, your mouth leaving his cock with a wet pop.

“Holy Jesus, Y/N, I’m going to come if you keep doing that,” he panted in a husky breath, sounding completely fucked out as you crawled up his body, kissing his clavicle as you straddled his hips. You hummed in response as you kissed him. His hands held your face in a tight grip as his mouth devoured yours, possessive and intense in his passion. You melted against his chest, submitting entirely to him in your blizz. 

He broke the kiss to pant in your mouth. “I wanna be inside you so bad.”

You moaned at his words, having dreamt about them for so long. 

Reaching between your bodies, you gripped his cock and lined it with your entrance, a thrill surging through you when the head entered you. 

Gazing into his eyes, hooded and dark, you slowly sank down on him, feeling him throb inside you inch by inch. He grunted as he bottomed out, the sound loud and obscene as it sent vibrations through you. He didn’t seem to know what to do, panting hard, swearing under his breath as you shifted. 

You gave him a quick kiss, dragging his bottom lip between your teeth as you sat up. 

“I got you,” you whispered as you started rocking back and forth, deep drags of his cock inside you flooding your system with sparks of pleasure. 

He seemed to get his wits about him soon enough. His hands found your hips, helping you move faster, his gaze locking on your face with a focused look. His eyes, strong and intent, sent hot shivers all the way down to your toes and you bucked your hips harder, earning grumbling moans from him. 

You could feel the coil deep in your lower belly tightening, your hips faltering in their rhythm as pleasure clouded your mind. Steve took it as a cue and started thrusting up into you, hitting that spot within you dead on. 

You yelped and he halted. 

“Are you okay?” he asked through his pants. 

He was so sweet it was almost infuriating

You bent forward and caught his lips in a fierce kiss. 

“Yeah. Please, Steve, don’t stop,” you almost whimpered against his lips, hands tugging on his hair as desperation grew. 

He moaned sweetly into your mouth and started thrusting again, harder and faster. You whined as the coil tightened further, bringing you back to the edge. 

He groaned your name into your mouth before moving his head into the crook of your neck. Your stomach flipped as you recognised the move, your head swimming with memories. You clenched around his cock. 

His arms locked around you as he pounded into you with abandon now, his mouth attached to the juncture between your neck and shoulder. 

Your hands were clinging onto his hair for dear life, loving the way he moved within you, the way he clung to you as he fucked into you, massive arms locked around your torso. 

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, seizing you as the coil in your stomach snapped. Steve held you so tight the breath left your lungs as he kept fucking into you, prolonging your climax to the point where you could only gasp at the overstimulation. 

His mouth found yours, and you whined into his mouth as he kept up his pace. 

His eyes were deep pools of pleasure and affection, shining with complete lust. His cheeks were flushed, his eyebrows knitted and his plump lips slightly parted and shining with saliva. He was breathtaking. 

“Steve,” you moaned lowly into his mouth and then his hips faltered, stuttering as his body went rigid beneath you, spilling inside you. 

You held him through his orgasm, kissing his open mouth as he gasped for air. 

He held you close to him as he came down from his high, stroking your cheekbone with his thumb as he regained his breath. He was so fucking gorgeous you couldn’t believe it. 

You rolled over to the side, Steve’s cock slipping from inside you. 

You lay tucked into his embrace, fingers running through the light patch of hair on his chest as you hummed with content. Steve’s eyes moved slowly over your face.

“I keep thinking I went about this all wrong,” he muttered. You stiffened, a small sting of panic in your chest. He registered your reaction and quickly brought your chin up with a hand. “I mean in the order we did...this.” 

You softened a bit, but still didn’t quite catch his meaning.

“First of all, I should have been the one asking you out. And it should have been a real date,” he said, and you finally understood what he was saying. 

“Yeah? What would that have been?” you asked, curious now. He was such an old sap. 

“Firstly, I would bring flowers and pick you up at your door,” he said, the hand under his chin coming up to stroke your cheek softly with the knuckles. 

“Then, I would take you to the most romantic restaurant in town, You know, one with candlelight -” 

His fingers stroked down your neck, tickling wonderfully over your skin. 

“- a live band maybe-”

His fingers kept their exploration down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You could barely keep your breath in check as his eyes burned lovingly into yours.

“-and a view that could only be surpassed by you, sipping on a glass of wine across the table, looking more beautiful than lady liberty herself,” he finished, entwining his fingers with yours. 

You were embarrassingly hot and out of breath.

“And then what?” you panted softly. 

“Then, I’d walk you home in the moonlight, and if the night was successful, and you looked at me with those eyes as we reached your door,” he said, pointing a look at you, making you blush harder, “then I’d kiss your hand, like a gentleman, and ask when I could see you next,” he said, bringing your hand up to lay a light kiss to it. 

You almost swooned at that. 

Maybe being an old sap wasn’t so bad.

“Well, we did walk home while it was dark,” you tried, earning a chuckle from the blond. 

“I keep thinking it’s kind of a shame you moved out of the building,” you continued, releasing his hand before booping his nose with your finger. 

He groaned and ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Where did you move, by the way?” you asked.

“I finally got a place in Brooklyn, actually,” he said with enthusiasm. “I remember getting beat up in the alley behind the building, so it’s familiar.” He paused as he looked at you. “Don’t know if it feels like home, though,” he said, his eyes studying your face in a way that had you burning under his gaze. 

“Maybe I could visit,” you said, trying to distract him from noticing how much his words affected you.

“Yeah, I could make you boiled potatoes with boiled ham, per the only recipes I can remember from back in the day,” he said playfully, and you laughed way too hard at that. 

“As long as I can be near you,” you said fondly, tracing his clavicle with a finger. 

“It’s too bad you can’t call me neighbor anymore,” he mused.

You bit the inside of your cheek.

“But I’ll always be your penny-wash-girl,” you said, smirking as his brows knitted in confused recognition at the familiar nickname.

“Natasha,” you explained, shrugging.

He snorted, but now he was the one blushing.

“Natasha, huh?” he asked, and you saw how he tried to conceal his amusement. “I suppose I should be a bit displeased by her meddling in my private life, but…”

“But?” you pressed softly.

“But not this time,” he said and smiled at you.

That was it. This was becoming too much of a fairytale ending. 

You slapped his chest lightly and sprung from the bed.

“Come on, superboy, let me show you something better than boiled ham,” you called as you strutted out of the room, nude as the day you were born.

“Don't know if you can show me anything better than the view I've got now,” he called after you, and your giggle rang through the hall.

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[shuahoonie]

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader 

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right? 

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k! 

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday. 

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love. 

gif credits: @underoos-shield​ 

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Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging. 

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle. 

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest. 

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway. 

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted. 

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom.  “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.” 

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019. 

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.” 

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone. 

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you. 

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place. 

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started. 

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly. 

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.” 

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious. 

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him. 

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly. 

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too. 

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.” 

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.” 

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?” 

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it. 

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?” 

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on. 

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long. 

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.” 

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend. 

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her. 

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped. 

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.” 

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.” 

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.” 

“What?” 

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush. 

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks. 

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation. 

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it. 

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—” 

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this. 

So—what really happened with you and Tom? 

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA! 

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.  

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head. 

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex. 

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no?  Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol. 

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes. 

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously. 

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

 So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state. 

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk 

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were. 

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too. 

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price. 

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed. 

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt. 

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.” 

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.” 

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.” 

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob. 

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger. 

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.” 

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half. 

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that. 

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom. 

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out. 

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.” 

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it. 

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera. 

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror. 

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”  

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.” 

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend. 

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame. 

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.” 

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open. 

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door. 

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime. 

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly. 

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred. 

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.” 

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.” 

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still! 

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom. 

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close. 

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.” 

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over. 

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on. 

“Tom—” 

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—” 

“Tom, listen to me.” 

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes. 

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?” 

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.” 

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.” 

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.” 

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables. 

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out. 

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings. 

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door. 

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes. 

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.” 

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.” 

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.” 

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude. 

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along. 

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.” 

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.” 

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.” 

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.” 

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up. 

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight. 

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.” 

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail. 

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee. 

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee. 

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?” 

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you. 

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands. 

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question. 

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly. 

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.” 

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?” 

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless. 

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him. 

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe. 

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter. 

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.” 

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.” 

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe. 

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin. 

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day. 

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone. 

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used. 

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?” 

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it. 

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime. 

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you. 

“Well, he hates—” 

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth. 

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point. 

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?” 

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed. 

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house. 

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later. 

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts. 

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously. 

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.” 

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part. 

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up. 

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face. 

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug. 

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t. 

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him 

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates. 

Tom was confused. 

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.” 

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it. 

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately. 

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh. 

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily. 

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big. 

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it. 

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”  

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well. 

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with. 

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.” 

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.” 

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about. 

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve. 

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly. 

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask, 

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?” 

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom. 

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole. 

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you. 

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers. 

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas. 

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning. 

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly. 

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud. 

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.” 

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself. 

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night. 

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures. 

“How did that even—” 

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face. 

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.  

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish. 

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11​ @tomshufflepuff​ @spider-babe​ @goodgirlgonetom​

[ashdoesfandomarchieved]

of all i am made of (perhaps you are too)

ao3

Hugo does not believe in soulmates.

To be fair, he doesn’t much believe in anything but the feeling of coin in his pocket and the clever bite of his dagger. What use has he for god and destiny when he carves his own path of lies through time, with a sharp tongue and a cocky smile.

Why should Hugo believe the universe would gift him a soulmate when it already has made it perfectly clear that nothing is free?

Besides soulmates are rarities of the past--legends and folktales on the lips of elders and religious fanatics; the former clinging to superstition from the od era, the latter feeding false promises and hope to the instupid masses.

Soulmates are for hopeless romantics and tiny children. Not for Hugo.

“That does not surprise me,” Nuru says, the beginnings of a smile forming on her face.

She’s lying down in the golden field where they’ve set camp for the night. The contrast of the bright yellow against her dark skin is stunning-particularly in the moonlight, with her dark hair fanning out about her head.

Hugo, who is sitting upright a few paces away and playing with his daggers, frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, unsure if he should be feeling defensive or not.

Nuru folds her arms beneath her head, propping herself up enough to make eye contact with him. “Even if you had a soulmate, you wouldn’t know what to do with them,” she scoffs.

He snorts. “ You believe in soulmates?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“Yes, actually. I thought you were the rational one in this party.”

Nuru gives him an expression that indicates how stupid she thinks he is. “I might be the only person who can keep their head in a crisis, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in a higher power, Hugo.”

She rolls over, so that she’s laying on her stomach, facing him. “Burning stars fall in my homeland every year. There are stories of a sun princess who’s tears heal the dead. Varian somehow hasn’t strangled you yet. I think you’d better start believing in a god.”

“Or soulmates apparently,” Hugo mutters.

“Or soulmates,” Nuru says. “Would it really be that far-fetched?”

“Do I believe there’s someone out there who shares my dreams? Or has my name written above their heart? Hard pass, Princess.”

“Alright then, how about sharing the same soul?” Nuru asks, folding her hands together and resting her chin on them. “You’re telling me that doesn’t sound at least a little romantic?”

“I don’t have a soul.”

“Now that,” she says, a grin stretching across her face, “that I can believe.”

___

“I think Anya’s my soulmate,” Yong says dreamily, staring at Varian’s redheaded cousin like she hung the fucking moon.

Hugo, despite secretly adoring the round child, rolls his eyes. Hard. “Do you even know what that means?”

“It means we share the same time threads,” Yong replies distractedly.

Varian and Anya are nerding out over something-something Hugo would find interesting or fun to mock them over, but right now, for some reason, he’s more interested in Yong’s adorable-if not misguided-crush on Varian’s little cousin.

“Time threads,” Hugo laughs, cracking his knuckles. Yong winces at the noise, momentarily taking his eyes off the two babbling alchemists. “Alright, color me curious. What are time threads?”

Yong frowns. “You’ve never heard of time threads? Every child in Koto learns about them.”

Ah, must be some religious poppycock only spread in the fire kingdom.

“Well, I’m not a child living in Koto, am I?” Hugo replies lightly. “Spill, little pyro.” He pokes the kid in the shoulder repeatedly until he gets swatted.

“Her lady, Odiyesi, spins a thread for each person,” Yong recites in a sing-song voice. “This thread contains the beginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. If she so chooses, two threads will be intertwined-maybe even beyond the Snip, if she wills it.”

“The Snip?”

“Oh yeah, that’s when you die,” Yong says, side eyeing Hugo.

Hugo ruffles Yong’s hair. “And you think Anya is your thread partner. That’s so cute .”

Yong ducks out from under his hand, scowling. “Why did you ask if you don’t even believe it?” he mumbles, face pink.

“You know what I think?” Hugo asks, pretending like he doesn’t hear Yong. “I think you should go right up to here and tell her all that. Give her a heads up about your eternally bound souls.”

“Your soul is eternally bound to the underworld,” Yong shoots back, with a surprising amount of fire.

Hugo bursts into laughter. “That,” he says, “is the first thing you’ve said all day that makes sense.”

___

“What do you think about soulmates?” Hugo asks mildly. He has a glass of wine in one hand, but he’s barely tasted it. Instead, he stands, staring out the stained glass window and into the courtyard.

Donella, sitting behind her desk, looks up from Varian’s Ulla’s journal-recently procured by Hugo.

The amount of deception and sneaking around he’d gone through to actually get it out of Varian’s line of sight had been painstakingly difficult. And it had been even harder coming up with an excuse to Nuru why he needed to spend the night somewhere other than their current lodgings.

He doesn’t really remember the lie. Just the trust in the Princess’s face when she’d briefly patted him on the shoulder, telling him to be back by sunrise.

Donella closes the journal with a snap, leaning back in her chair. “What a curious question. And from you, no less.”

When Hugo turns around, she’s smiling that sharp smile-the one that makes his stomach plummet with discomfort. Something in him churns at that dangerous expression now, unsure of what he’s suddenly gotten himself into.

He gives a casual shrug, raising his glass to his lips. “Just making idle conversation, I suppose.” The wine tastes terrible. Still, he takes another sip before setting it down on an end table.

“Hmm.” His mentor eyes him skeptically. “What do I think about soulmates?” she muses, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I suppose the proper answer would be that I hate them.”

He frowns. “So you don’t believe in them?”

“You can’t hate something you don’t believe in, Hugo. Of course I believe in soulmates.” Donella must see the surprise in his expression because she laughs after a brief pause. “I would be hard pressed not to believe in them after seeing it with my own two eyes.”

Hugo blinks, startled. “You met someone with a soulmate?” he asks, disbelieving.

“You could say that.”

“How do-how did you know they were-”

She opens the stolen journal again, long scared fingers deftly flipping back to her reading place. “Because I could feel when she was in pain. Now shut up, Waif, I still have three quarters of this tedious reading to get through and only five more hours to do it.”

___

Even though Eugene has decided to make the conscious effort not to kill Hugo, the guy still shows mild animosity. And by mild, Hugo-of course-means that he drags him around, making him do tedious tasks and scowls whenever he gets close to Varian.

Whatever. It’s not as if Hugo’s going to complain, considering that it’s mostly his fault there was a demon monster briefly unleashed onto Corona that destroyed most of her capital city. As long as Varian isn’t blaming himself, Hugo calls it a win.

So he lets the Prince Consort drag him around the city and put his alchemy to work.

“You don’t have to stay,” Hugo says, at one point, when it becomes apparent that even though Eugene has no idea how alchemy works , he was still going to hover. “I’m not going to cut and run.”

The man had snorted. “Yeah, I already figured that one out for myself,” he’d muttered and then proceeded to not explain what that meant.

So here Hugo is, with an ever present shadow, hovering like he’s a fucking five year old. Hugo honestly doesn’t see what Varian sees in the guy-or Queen Rapunzel for that matter. She looks at the ex-thief like he hung the moon and all the damn stars in the sky.

“It’s because they’re soulmates,” Eugene’s buddy-Lance, Hugo thinks-had said when he caught him staring.

Hugo had scoffed.

Now, bored and overheated after a long day’s work, Hugo watches Eugene frown over some blueprints in the Queen’s study. Hugo’s not exactly sure why he has to be present for this particular part of the renovation project, but he’s too tired to protest.

“Are you and the queen soulmates?” he hears himself asking.

Eugene lifts his head, eyes alight with surprise. He glances back down at the blueprints once, before leaving the table to join Hugo by the open doors leading to the balcony.

“Weird question, coming from you,” he snorts, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his arms. “But yes. We are.”

Hugo doesn’t know what to make of that. “How do you know?”

The older man hesitates, something like understanding dawning on the man’s face. A small smile crosses lips. “Have you ever met someone that no matter how many times you tried to walk away, you couldn’t?”

Hugo swallows.

“That’s how I know. Now,” he claps Hugo on the shoulder. “If you’ll stop messing around, I need your opinion on whether Yong’s demolition idea or Varian’s solvent solution is going to work best for the lower district’s avalanche problem.”

___

At the end of all things-or perhaps the beginning-Hugo finds Varian on a rooftop.

It’s not hard to find him, as when Varian is brooding, he likes to perch. It’s a habit that the alchemist has either picked up from spending most of his time in a castle with high roofs or perhaps it’s born of chasing his dumb racoon into precarious positions.

Either way, Hugo learns early into his friendship with the darkhaired boy, that when he’s being introspective, he likes to pick a high roof and perch like a fucking woodland creature.

So when Varian goes missing in the middle of Corona’s lantern festival, it takes precious few minutes to find him.

“You are so predictable,” Hugo says, dropping down next to him. Heights don’t usually bother him, but the castle is impressively tall.

The other alchemist doesn’t really seem to mind, however. He lets his legs dangle over the edge, occasionally swinging in the air.

“Or maybe I wanted you to find me,” Varian replies easily. His head--tilted up, toward the stars that are mirrored in the constellations of freckles on his face-is wearing a peaceful expression.

Something in Hugo’s chest clenches tightly at the sight of it. There was a time, not too long ago, where he was convinced he’d never see Varian happy again.

But now, Varian turns his face toward Hugo and offers him a smile. “Or maybe I’m just predictable to you.”

The tightness in Hugo’s chest dissipates. What is left aches for something he can’t have.

“Or that,” Hugo says, instead of doing something stupid like trying to hold Varian’s hand or kiss the stupid expression off his face.

Varian turns back to the stars.

“You know, they say shooting stars fall in the direction of your soulmate.”

Hugo rolls his eyes. “Not you too,” he groans, eliciting laughter from his friend. “I thought out of everyone, you would be on my side here.”

“Aw, don’t believe in soulmates?” Varian teases, grinning boyishly. “Sun and moon, I should have expected that.”

“Yeah?” Hugo raises his eyebrows. “How so?”

“You’re so cynical. And not in the way Cass is-she’s like realistically -cynical. You’re just oh poor me I could never have a soulmate because my soul is made of garbage -”

Hugo clamps a hand over Varian’s mouth, shrieking when he tries to lick him. “I- stop -I don’t have to listen to this slander -”

“-and if you ever did find your soulmate you would be insufferable about it,” Varian goes on, catching Hugo’s wrist when he tries to silence him again. “You would spend the entire time trying to prove to yourself and everyone else that there was no possible way they could be your soulmate and when you couldn’t you would-”

He stops. Blinks at Hugo with realization dawning across his face.

Hugo’s wonders if Varian can feel his pulse racing where the smaller boy’s fingers wrap around his wrist.

“Yeah? What would I do?”

Varian’s lips purse. “I don’t know what you would do. I’d hope you would be smart about it.”

He lets go of Hugo.

Hugo immediately misses his warmth.

“And what would be the smart thing.”

“Well,” Varian draws out the word thoughtfully. He scoots close enough to Hugo that if the taller boy wanted he could wrap and arm around his shoulder. “Well, an excellent start would be telling them.”

“And how would you tell them? If it were you,” Hugo adds quickly, when Varian shoots him a questioning look.

Varian leans back on his hands, head tipped back, exposing his throat to the sky. “I would tell them my heart started beating at the same time as theirs when we touched. That there’s a silver dagger inked on my shoulder that burns when they’re angry and sings when they’re sad-”

“Varian.” Hugo’s heart clenches so hard he briefly wonders if he’s having a heart attack.

“-I would tell them that I dreamed in color the first night we lay side by side in the forest,” Varian goes on, ignoring him. “I would tell them that when we touch I see every color-even the ones that don’t belong here.”

“Varian.”

Hugo’s hand finds his soulmate's.

Varian turns his head to the side slightly, finally meeting Hugo’s eye. With his free hand, he cups the side of Hugo’s neck, tentatively.

“I would tell him that our souls are made of the same thing.” He smiles gently. “It’s just science, Hugo.”

Hugo laughs, pressing his forehead into Varian’s. “How is that the most romantic thing you’ve said yet?”

“Because you’re a closet nerd,” Varian says, right before he leans in.

Underneath a starlit sky, Hugo kisses the boy made of the same stuff as him.

___

[patt-writes-stuff]

Pink (Hawks x gn!Reader)

Pairing: Hawks/Takami Keigo x gn! Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: cursing but that’s about it!

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, Romantic/Relationship

Tags/Aus: boss x secretary, pining, slow burn, slight cannon divergence probably

Summary: 5 times your boss, Hawks, made you flustered + the one time you made him flustered

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! This is my fic for the Attack on Academia server’s Secret Santa Event!! This is for @sugacookiies​ !! and I really hope you like it!!! 

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

“Thank you so much for coming today, we’ll be sure to get back to you soon,” the lady who had been interviewing you said, smiling at you. You bowed your head slightly, thanking her for her time with a small smile on your face.

After exiting the room and closing the door, you took a deep breath, as if to calm your still very present nerves. You had been up for a job as a secretary at pro hero Hawk’s agency, something you were more than thrilled about.  

Growing up, you’d always been immensely intrigued with the world of pro heroes. Your room had been decked out in hero figurines and posters, the whole nine yards. Hell, even your comforter was hero themed at a certain point in time. It had just always fascinated you how these people would use their quirks for the good of humanity and to protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Sadly, your quirk, MoodLocks, wasn’t very useful in crime-fighting. All it did was allow your hair to change colors depending on your mood. It was pretty, of course, but you had a hard time controlling it and it could never help you beat an opponent. If anything, it would give the villain an insight into your thoughts and put you at a clear disadvantage.

So, as time passed, your childish fantasies of becoming a hero did as well. It didn’t bother you anymore, as you were more than happy with the career you’d chosen. Your love of heroes was still very much present, hence why you were so nervous about today’s interview. If you got the job, not only would the pay be incredible, but you’d also get the chance to help an actual hero. Maybe you’d even get the chance to meet more of them!

You were pretty sure you had made a fairly good impression so hopefully, you would indeed get a call from the agency soon.

Walking out of the agency, you couldn’t help but let out a yawn. You’d stayed up far too late last night googling commonly asked job interview questions so you wanted nothing more than to get back to your apartment and catch up on some much-needed rest. Maybe you and your roommate could order in.

“Oh God, I am so sorry that was my fault. I just finished this super stressful interview and I’m super tired so I was not watching where I was going-” your babbling came to a sudden halt as you looked up, brain losing all ability to form coherent thoughts.

Right before your very eyes was the man who’s “a bit too fast” in all his red-winged glory. You’d seen him in interviews online, of course, you kept up with most pro hero interviews, so you knew he was handsome. However, the cameras most certainly did not do the man justice. His yellow glasses were resting on his forehead, pushing his messy (and very soft looking) blond hair back. His gold eyes seemed to be looking right into your soul, calculating yet calm.

God, you wished you could make your eyeliner look remotely similar to his.

He raised an eyebrow at you, and you realized that you’d been staring for what you could only describe as an uncomfortably long amount of time.

Before you could embarrass yourself further, the winged hero placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. He looked at the top of your head, an intrigued expression adorning his face before morphing into an easy smile, he spoke, “‘S no problem, chickadee. Good luck with your interview.”

And just like that, the hero went along his merry way.

Curious what he’d been staring at, not to mention the nickname, you looked up at your hair, which had previously been a bright shade of orange due to being anxious, was now very pink. You blanched at the thought of having lost control of your quirk so easily, in front of a cute guy pro hero who might be your future boss no less.

‘Well,’ you thought, ‘at least I can say I met Japan’s #2 hero even if I don’t get this job.’

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 2

Much to your surprise, and pleasure, you had indeed received a call from Hawks’ agency about a week later. After several follow up interviews (much more than you were expecting, honestly, but you suppose it made since he’s such a high ranking hero) a very thorough background check, you had gotten the job.

When you had gotten the job, you had been hoping that the blond would have forgotten your first encounter, since you had literally malfunctioned right before his very eyes. The chances of him forgetting weren’t exactly small, after all. You were sure he met plenty of people every day and your interaction had been incredibly brief.

A month into your job as his secretary, you seemed to be in the clear. Sure, he knew about your quirk, since he was your employer and the ever-changing array of colors in your hair aren’t exactly subtle, but seeing as he hadn’t mentioned it so he’d probably forgotten.

You’d stayed at the agency long after your shift was overdue to a couple of low-ranking villains attempting to rob a bank. It had been an easy win for Hawks, he was in and out of there long before his sidekicks had even gotten there, but the villains had caused a lot of unnecessary damage to the building, so there was a ridiculous amount of paperwork.

You couldn’t wait to get home and change out of your stuffy work clothes and into the comfiest pair of PJs you owned. Your roommate, always a sweetheart, had been kind enough to save you some leftovers from her dinner so all you had to do was warm it up, eat, shower, and crash on your bed.

Whilst you were getting ready to head home, your boss had decided that it was only fair to walk you home, seeing as it was late. You had insisted that he didn’t need to do that, even showing him the can of pepper spray you carried around your person at all times. Still, he’d insisted, and who were you to say no?

The winged hero had originally offered to fly you home, but you’d profusely told him it wasn’t necessary. So, the two of you ended up taking the train. The two of you got a couple of weird stares from your fellow passengers, seeing as the flying hero was taking a train instead of y’know… flying and his wings took a significantly large part of the seat the two of you were occupying (it seemed uncomfortable but he didn’t mention it). Hawks seemed to either not notice or not care, opting instead to have an animated conversation with you about the best fried chicken places in Fukuoka. It was mostly him talking, but you’d add to the conversation every once in a while, and sometimes people would interrupt and ask for an autograph, which he’d sign with a carefree smile on his face.

“You don’t have to walk me home, sir,” you told him after the two of you had exited the station closest to your apartment.

“What kind of hero would I be if I let a civilian walk alone across the dark streets of Japan?” He asked you, tone light and teasing. “Also, didn’t I tell you to call me Hawks? Sir makes me feel old.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at his words, turning to the left towards your apartment. You’d get there soon and a small part of you wanted to keep the banter going for as long as possible.

“I don’t think that would be very professional of me, sir,” you said playfully. He laughed and the two of you settled into a comfortable silence while you walked.

After a moment, he shoved his hands into his coat pockets and he spoke up, “I’ve been meaning to ask you, how exactly does your quirk work?”

“Oh well, y’know, it changes color depending on my mood, so red means I’m angry, blue can mean I’m sad or calm, pink means I’m flustered or embarrassed, purple means I’m scared, etc.”

“So your hair went pink the first time we met because you were starstruck by my devilishly good looks?” He asked in a faux haughty tone. “Don’t worry, I don’t blame you.”

The asshole remembered your first encounter.

Your hair turned pink and you celebrated inwardly as you approached your apartment. As you opened the glass door to the complex, Hawks laughed at your hurry.

“Good night,” you stated, tone indignant at his laughter, as you made your way inside.”

“‘Night, Pinky.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 3

Working for the red-winged hero himself was both everything you were expecting it to be and completely the opposite of it at the same time.

The hours were crazy, something you were anticipating considering villain activity had been increasing and your boss was a busy public figure. What you were certainly not anticipating, however, was that Hawks would be such a teasing little shit.

Not only had the man remembered your first encounter, but after you had explained your quirk to him (he’d asked you about it despite it being in the agency’s records since you had applied for the position, you guessed he’d done it as a way to break the ice) he’d taken it upon himself to fluster you to get your hair to go that embarrassingly bright shade of pink.

He’d call you all sorts of nicknames ranging from pinky to songbird (your favorite was by far Pinky since it feels so personal. Not that you’d ever tell him that). He’d also gotten into the habit of trying out all sorts of ridiculous pick up lines on you. The greater majority of them were bird-related, of course. Those never really got you but they did make you laugh.

The one that probably got you the most was when he’d bring you your favorite drink or lunch from a place you’d mentioned you’d like offhandedly, saying he had just been “flying by” and remembered your conversation.

You didn’t mind his flirtatious banter in the slightest. He never crossed any boundaries and kept things professional when it came to business. It was pretty fun to see what nicknames or pickup lines he had up his sleeves.

The only downside was that you’d begun to develop a slight crush on the red-winged hero. It would never lead to anything, you were well aware of that. He was not only a famous hero who was constantly under public scrutiny, but he was also your boss.

It can’t hurt to dream though.

“What’s got you so distracted?” An all too familiar broke your very him-centric train of thought. You looked up from the paperwork you’d been blankly staring at. You’d been trying to multitask between eating and doing paperwork so you wouldn’t have to take any work home. After much insistence from your roommate, who was well aware of your crush on Your boss (she’d teasingly gifted you a pair of Hawks themed PJs on your birthday), you had finally given in and agreed to let her set you up on a date with a former schoolmate of hers.

“Nothing, just thinking about a date I have tonight,” you lied, looking up from your desk to meet those lovely honey-colored eyes you spent more hours than you’d care to admit thinking about. You scanned his body language, trying to gauge his reaction. Not that you could ever get a read on him. More often than not, it was impossible to get a read on him under the visage of carefree indifference he was so well known for. In the almost half a year you’d known him you’d never once seen the hero lose his cool or show any emotion other than the ones he wanted to portray. It was kind of unfair seeing as he could get a picture-perfect look into your thoughts and emotions just by looking at the color of your hair and here you were, left grasping at straws.

He seemed to have no outward reaction other than his shoulders tensing and his eyebrows scrunching up a bit in mild distaste. It was gone so fast you were sure you must have just imagined it.

“Pinky’s got themselves a date?” he said after a moment, a slightly forced teasing tilt to his voice. He crossed his hands and placed them on the taller part of your desk and leaned his weight on them, staring down at you with a cheeky grin.

“I guess so,” you said, fiddling with your chopsticks as you continued, “I’m kind of nervous though. I haven’t got on any dates since I started working here, I’m a little rusty.”

“How come you haven’t gone on any dates?” he asked, staring at you with an intensity you weren’t quite expecting from him. “Had a special someone in mind?”

The roots of your hair went white in surprise before you managed to school them into going back to your natural hair color. It was brief but he had surely noticed.

“I’d go on lots of dates if my boss gave me more days off,” you said, pushing past the momentary lull in the conversation and giving him a pointed look.

He let out a laugh, a real and genuine one, unlike the ones he’d let out during interviews or out in public. The thought made your face heat up. It made you feel special. Even if he didn’t see you in the same way you saw him, he at least trusted you enough to be real around you. That was enough for you.

“You’ve got nothing to be nervous about, kid, any person would be lucky to land a date with someone as beautiful as you,” He stated, looking at you with a certain emotion behind his gaze that you couldn’t quite decipher. “If your date happens to go south, just give me a call and I’ll pick you up. After all, what kind of hero would I be if I didn’t look out for my secretary?”

You looked at his retreating form, your hair as pink as bubble gum and heart threatening to beat out of your rib cage. He’d just called you beautiful. He’d also said that anyone would be lucky to date you. Did that include him? Did he like you?

“Hey Hawks,” you called out, surprising both him and yourself. Despite him telling you to just call him Hawks instead of ‘sir’, you’d stuck to calling him sir for the sake of professionality. “Thanks for the offer.”

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 4

You let out a tired sigh as you watched the number of floors go up on the tiny screen atop the doors of the elevator you were currently in.

When you had signed your contract to work at Hawks’ agency, you were aware that you would need to be accessible 24/7, however, you thought that if he did contact you at an ungodly hour, it’d be for something important, perhaps something along the lines of a press scandal or a massive villain attack that you’d need to start filing paperwork promptly so that the agency could report the casualties or cost of the destruction. You had highly doubted Hawks, Japan’s literal #2 hero would call his secretary at 3:00 a.m. in the goddamn morning and order them to bring him a bucket of fried chicken from fucking KFC.

You clearly hadn’t known the man at the time, you thought as you stared at the red and white bucket in your arms.

The elevator dinged, alerting you that you had arrived at your destination. Making your way through the hallway, you tried to figure out why your boss would be so cruel as to make you get him fast food when he had two perfectly capable wings that could take him to and from the nearest KFC faster than you ever could. You bet it’d even be warmer.

You’d need to download UberEats on his phone.

Before your fist could make contact with the door, it was swung open, surprising your half-asleep brain. Before your eyes there was a very awake looking Hawks, his eyes zeroed in on the bucket you were holding

“Hey there, chickadee,” he said in a teasing tone, resting his arm on the door frame in a very attractive manner. God, if you were just a bit more coherent and a little less sleep-deprived, your hair would be the most embarrassingly bright pink color imaginable.

Thankfully, you weren’t and you could hear your bed calling your name from across the city, so without bothering to answer, you shoved the bucket of chicken into his arms before turning around to speed your way back to your at this point cold bed.

Before you could get very far, however, Hawks had grabbed your wrist with your free hand.

“You’re not leaving already, are you?” He asked you, letting go of your wrist.

“It’s 3 in the goddamn morning, Hawks,” was your deadpan answer.

“C’mon, you wouldn’t let your poor boss eat all alone would you,” you could tell his tone was meant to be light and playful but it was lacking his usual flare.

Your concern for the overgrown pigeon won out, and with a defeated sigh, you walked into his apartment, Hawks trailing behind you, visibly pleased that you stayed.

Despite all your time working for Hawks, you’d never actually been inside of his apartment. You had come here several times before to drop off documents he needed to sign or a new schedule (because the Hero Commission apparently couldn’t send emails directly to him) but you had always left the things at his building's front desk.

Hawks’ apartment was… emptier than you had expected it to be. It was nice, the furniture was obviously high quality, not that it was surprising considering he was a high ranking hero, but it lacked a personal touch. It had no pictures or knick-knacks in sight. It felt more like a house instead of an actual home.

“So, how’d your date go?” Hawks inquired once the two of you settled in his living room, him on the couch and you in the armchair next to it. He picked up a piece of chicken, offering it to you. However, it was far too early to even think about consuming food, so you politely declined.

“It was fine. He was nice,” you answered.

To be honest the date had gone well. He’d been nice, a complete gentleman. He’d taken you to a nice restaurant, he was great in conversation, he’d even walked you home but at the end of the night, the two of you had agreed that there was just no chemistry between the two of you whatsoever. You had decided to just stay friends.

“There won’t be a second one, though,” you added after a beat of silence.

“Good,” your eyes widened at his words and suddenly you had an epiphany.

Hawks had been jealous. He was jealous because he liked you. That’s why he had asked you to come here.

Before you could voice your thoughts, he spoke again, a sly smirk on his face, “By the way, I love your pajamas. I wasn’t aware you were such a fan.”

Your hair turned pink, as it often did whenever Hawks was around when you looked down at your clothes. In your haste to get Hawks his food so you could go back to bed, you had forgone changing clothes. You hadn’t realized you were wearing the Hawks themed PJs your roommate had gotten you as a gag gift. They were mustard-colored with lots of cute red feathers and tiny Hawks chibi heads scattered around the fabric.

He would never let you live this down.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 5

Following the KFC event, the two of you hadn’t spoken about the situation further. At this point, you were well aware of his feelings for you, and you hadn’t exactly been subtle about liking him. The two of you just hadn’t spoken about it. You weren’t official but there was an unspoken rule that neither of you would go on dates with other people.

You were fine with it. Really, you were.

Except that you were definitely not okay with it and you were very much upset that he had just answered that he was single when the lady that had interviewed him had asked him if he was seeing anyone.

Rationally, you understood why he said no. You weren’t official and saying yes would just throw the media into a frenzy while they speculated who he was seeing. You remember how crazy everyone went a couple of months ago when pictures of Mirko and Hawks in their street clothes hanging out started circulating on Twitter. They were trending for weeks, and you had had to answer call after call, explaining that no, they are not dating and no, they don’t have time to go on the 8:00 a.m. news to answer questions about what it was like to date as pro heroes.

On the other hand, you were tired of dancing around each other. You were aware that dating a pro hero would come with hectic schedules and even some danger, but you didn’t care.

“So I was thinking you could come over and we can watch that hero documentary you told me to watch- hey are you mad at me?” Hawks asked, brows furrowed as in confusion.

“No, I’m not angry at you,” you answered, putting your stuff away and heading to the agency’s doors. You were more than ready to go back to your apartment and there was a pint of your favorite ice cream waiting for you in the freezer with your name on it.

“You totally are,” he scoffed, following after you.

“No, I'm not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” Your overgrown pigeon of a boss insisted, mimicking your tone, “If you’re not angry then why is your hair red?”

With a sigh, you spoke, failing to hide the snarky tone to your voice “So what if I am angry? Why do you care? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” You walked out onto the sidewalk.

“Oh, that’s what you're upset about?” He asked, realization dawning upon his features. When you didn’t answer he kept talking, “You of all people know why I didn’t say anything.”

“I know. It’s just- nothing, never mind. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” You told him, looking away with a defeated sigh.

You were about to walk away before he stopped you by placing his glove cladded hand  

“At least let me take you home,” it wasn’t much of a question, but you nodded anyways.

All of a sudden, you let out a shrill scream when he picked you up bridal style, hands instinctively clasping on to his coat to assure you wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking you home,” he explained as if it were obvious. Before you had a chance to argue he set off into the sky.

You couldn’t hear anything but the wind in your ears and his heartbeat, but you finally understood why he loved flying so much. Exhilarating was the only word you could use to describe it. And cold. It was also really cold. You understood why he walked around with such a heavy coat now. You snuggled more into him, trying to get some more warmth, which caused Hawks to tighten his hold on you. The affectionate gesture alone had your hair going a shade of pink.

You got to your apartment building much faster than you ever would by taking the train, something that you regretted a bit since it meant he’d let go of you.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, “maybe we should-“

“Keigo,” he said, effectively cutting you off,

“W-what?” You spluttered, caught off guard.

“I want you to call me Keigo,” he said with a sense of finality, looking into your eyes with an emotion you couldn’t quite read, or at least one that you were just choosing to ignore. It’d just make what you were about to suggest harder.

“Look, Hawks,” you started, opening the door that led to the stairs, “I really like you, hell, maybe even more than that, and I want to be with you but I don’t want to be whatever we are right now forever.”

Ignoring the way his wings physically dropped at your words, you closed the door behind you and headed to your apartment.

~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸~🌸

Event No. 1

Once you got home, you immediately stripped out of your work clothes and into your Hawks-themed pajamas (because they're the comfiest, not because they remind you of him, obviously) and you’d taken out your ice cream and went to town on it. Your roommate had noticed the dark blue that had taken over your hair but you’d brushed her off, saying it was nothing to worry about. She’d been doubtful, but she had a night shift so she left, but not before making you promise to call her if you needed to.

You’d spent the rest of the evening eating your ice cream and watching tv before deciding to get some sleep so you would feel at least a little less sorry for yourself tomorrow.

You were currently in your room, scrolling through your phone on your bed before calling it a day when you started to hear a tapping sound. You’d ruled it out to be some tree branch knocking against your window due to the wind. However, the longer you ignored it the more incessant it became.

You nearly fell out of your bed when you realized it was Hawks, your boss, the #2 pro hero of Japan, tapping on your window while squatting on your fire escape.

You got up, heading towards your window and unlocking it before pushing it up.  You helped him in before sitting down on the bed and motioning for him to do the same. An awkward silence filled the air, neither of you was quite sure of what you should say.

“Hawks, what are-“ you started before being cut off by him.

“Look, Pinky, I love you so much it scares the shit out of me,” he declared. Your hair went the brightest shade of pink it had ever been at his words.

He played with the embroidered design of the throw blanket you kept in your bed. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the red-winged hero so vulnerable in all your time knowing him.

“But there’s a lot of crap that comes with my job and I could never forgive myself if I brought you into it and you got hurt. So-“ before he could finish speaking, you grabbed onto his coat’s collar with both of your hands and crashed your lips against his.

You’d waited almost an entire year for this. One thing was for certain, it was well worth the wait. You loved every single thing about him. And he loved you. That was all you needed.

After a beat, you pulled away, choosing instead to cup his cheek in an adoring manner. The two of you looked at each other with nothing short of pure unadulterated adoration.

“I love you Keigo,” you spoke his name for the first time, “as long as you’re by my side I don’t care about what happens.”

His reaction was, for lack of a better word, cute. His honey eyes were wide in shock, his face as red as his wings, and his aforementioned wings were puffed up in shock. Now you understood why he loved teasing you so much.

“So, do you wanna watch the documentary?” You asked him, walking out of your room and into the living room with a victorious smirk.

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[raindownforme]

“I love you” in Comic Sans (pt2!)

Charlie Slimecicle x reader [they/them used](CW: slightly sexist content)

Schlatt shoved y/n through the door way. The first person they looked for was Charlie, who was staring at them with wide eyes.

Of course Charlie was angry; he was angry and worried and quite honestly pissed off! Only moments ago Traves and Cooper had run in to tell him that Schlatt was holding y/n outside the front door. He had wanted so desperately to go out there and whisk them away from whatever Schlatt was planning, but before he could actualise a thought process they had both stumbled through the door. Watching y/n stand there, dressed to marry him, he felt his heart leave his chest and soar high up above him. The hood resting gently on their head and the cape swirling around their feet was pretty of course, but the second they made eye contact with Charlie, y/n smiled so wide that he felt invincible. He stood at the altar, watching as someone handed them the bouquet of flowers. He watched as they smiled, staring at the bright blue cornflowers, then smiling back to him. They mouth thank you and he felt his face burn bright pink.

He heard Schlatt mutter “come on” and shove y/n forward. As Schlatt slowly walked them towards the altar, Charlie felt anger boil from deep inside of himself. He saw Schlatt continue to whisper in their ear, and after what felt like ages (even though it was probably ten seconds) y/n and Schlatt now stood across from him at the altar.

“Thank you Schlatt, that will be all from you.” Ted did his best to excuse the man from the scene, but he didn’t seem to want to let go without a final word.

Schlatt turned to Charlie, poison dripping from each word. “Every bit as real as you think this is, the day this is over is the same day I put a bounty on both of your heads.”

Everyone watched as Schlatt walked towards the back few rows of the church and took the seat next to Connor.

Ted cleared his throat. “Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today....”

Charlie zoned out as Ted continued the speech. He stared at y/n, who kept glancing between either Ted or their conjoined hands. Charlie looked down at their hands, too. Ever so gently, he ran his thumb over the back of their hand, smiling to himself. y/n squeezed his hand and he looked back up to them. They silently mouthed to him, this is real.

Charlie smiled, unsure of how to feel. Off of basic instinct he was elated. The idea that the person he was in love with wanted to marry him set his soul on fire, but knowing that all of this was just political confused him. They must mean real for Schlatt, right? Real for him? Because Charlie was convinced there was no way this would be real like he wanted it to be real.

“Do you have rings?” Ted’s voice cut through Charlie’s thoughts and he came to the quick realization of-

“Oh my god I forgot the rings.” Charlie huffed in frustration. “I am so sorry-“

“Hey it’s okay. We’ll go get some tomorrow. We can pick out ones we like. Together.” y/n smiled at Charlie and then looked back to Ted. “We have no rings.”

Ted nodded, a small smirk on his face. “Any vows then?”

“Oh I’ve got this one covered.” Charlie let go of y/n to reach into his breast pocket and pull out a set of hot pink flash cards. “Here watch this.”

Charlie made a gesture to clear his throat and y/n let out a laugh. “Oh god I might divorce you now.”

Charlie laughed, adjusting his glasses a bit before diving into the speech. “y/n, I’ve only known you for probably a year. Maybe two. But I know that I can say with all of my heart that I will love you through thick and thin, especially through the slime of it all. But I love you and I’m excited to spend my life with you.”

He slipped away the cards to see y/n stifling a laugh. He went to grab their hand and they did their best to swallow the smile. “Alright. My turn. Uhm. Unfortunately, I didn’t have anything special prepared like you but I can tell you that every single day you find some way to make me smile and every single day I seem to find some way to make you smile. And putting together everything I know, that makes me feel like you are who I am supposed to spend the rest of my life with, which is such a relief because I love you so, so much Charlie.”

The couple stared at each other, smiling, until Ted brought them back to the ceremony. He held out a small book and a quill dipped in blue ink. “With no objections, would you both please sign this?”

y/n went to sign the certificate in the book first, ending with a swirly flourish. Charlie signed the line underneath, but his looked closer to chicken scratch.

Ted closed the book and held it with both hands. “I pronounce you two, married!”

Charlie wrapped his arms around y/n’s waist, expecting a hug, but instead they grabbed his face and kissed him. Charlie could feel them smiling against his lips and he felt like fire works. He felt like sparks were running under his skin from everywhere they were touching; the hands on his cheeks, their lips against his, his hands against their back. He picked them up, arms still around their waist and spun them in a circle.

y/n stopped kissing Charlie to laugh and bury their face in the crook of his neck, but they didn’t want to. When they kissed Charlie it felt electrifying. It felt whole, like something that had been missing.

Charlie pulled apart from them, still keeping hands on their waist, still smiling wide enough to make sure his face hurt for the rest of the week. “Hey,” he whispered just loud enough for y/n and Ted to hear. “If we give Ted those flowers we can take the book and book it.”

y/n giggled and nodded. They quickly exchanged the items with Ted. And then, hand in hand, the two ran down the aisles of the church and out into the open air.

———

Three weeks had passed since the wedding. In that time, they’d been able to move all of y/n’s stuff to a new house buried in a forested hill. Their house and home garden were well-hidden, but even if something were to happen, Charlie’s home was a three-minute horse ride away.

It had only taken a week to dig out the hill side and build the house, but even after that Charlie had offered to stay with y/n to make sure they felt safe. So for the past three weeks, Charlie had spent every waking day and night at y/n’s house, save for the very few times he had something to attend to.

Today was one of those days. It was late in the afternoon. The sun was about to set, so y/n waited patiently next to the window until their husband came home. It wasn’t unusual for Charlie to be more late than he had originally said. The boy got distracted quite often, whether it was some antics one of his friends had gotten stuck in or something new someone made. But y/n still couldn’t help the anxious feeling that itched beneath their skin.

They sat in their obsessive thoughts for a while longer before they heard the familiar knock at the door. He always knocked the same way, and he would wait for y/n to knock the same way back, which they happily ran to the door to do, then they turned the deadbolt.

Charlie burst through the door, holding his arms out wide as if he were addressing a large crowd. “Hey!”

“Hey! Why are you breathing so hard?”

“Oh. Right.” Charlie shut the door behind himself and set a box from his back pocket on the table near the door. “Well I was in town and I’m not sure who it was but someone built the coolest thing! It’s this big planet and there’s a ring around it like that one planet-“

“Saturn?”

“-yeah Saturn! Which Is why I ran here to tell you because I had the perfect thing to say.”

Charlie opened the box he had set down earlier and pulled out two smaller black velvet boxes. y/n gasped, trying not to hold their breath. “Charlie, what is this?”

“I told you I’d get you a ring! And now you can be saturn! Or we could be Saturn!” Charlie opened the small box and inside was a simple silver band ring engraved with twisting vines and cornflowers to decorate the outside, but on the inside of the band, the wedding date was engraved in comic sans. y/n laughed at the gift, taking it out of the box and slipping it onto their ring finger. Somehow, it fit perfectly. Charlie started explaining something, but all y/n could focus on was not crying. They were gently snapped back into focus when Charlie placed his hand gently on their face and brushed their cheek with his thumb. “Are you okay? You look like you’re crying.”

“Yeah. No I’m fine.”

“Is it the ring? Because I can return them if you want. You don’t even have to pay me back.”

“Charlie its not the rings-“

“Is it something I can fix? At least tell me that-“

“Charlie I love you.” He released his hold on their face and stared in shock. “I’ve been in love with you forever now. That’s why I didn’t want to marry you. I knew you’d be too good of a guy and you’d make it so much harder to not say anything but I’m really worried now that whenever you leave me to marry someone else it’s going to kill me.” Charlie stared at y/n softly. They glanced to see the ring sitting in the box in his other hand and they groaned. “I just embarrassed myself didn’t I?”

“No, y/n-“

“No it’s okay I know you were being nice but you can leave-“

Charlie, with one hand against their cheek and the other wrapped around their waist, pulled y/n in for a kiss. His glasses pushed against their brow and they gasped before they could appropriately react, but Charlie melted at the feeling of y/n smiling against him and the fire works going off under his skin, and y/n smiled as the electricity raced through them.

Charlie pulled the two of them apart, but still rested his forehead against y/n’s. “When you kissed me, it was like fireworks went off everywhere. I wanted to do it every single day. I want to hold your hand every single day, and come home to you at night, and tell you about the wild shit I find in town, and maybe start a store or something so we don’t go broke, and I want to wake up with you. And I want to do all those things because I have loved you for so long. So when you told me it was real I was ecstatic. And you telling me this now makes me happier than I was then.”

“Charlie?”

“Yes?”

“I want the store with you. And the hand holding. And the coming home at night. And everything else you said.”

“Good. Now can you actually tell me if you like the rings? Because you didn’t before.”

y/n laughed, pulling Charlie into a full hug. “Did it have to be comic sans?”

He mumbled intoto the crook of their neck. “I love you too.”

————

Tags: @rosefreckles06 @short-potato

[yandere-daydreams]

Is it OK if I request some Yan!Dabi? I reaaally miss him 😭 Perhaps in a situation where he's feeling touch-starved? I need cuddles from my fav fire boii. Thank you in advance!

I generally try to avoid content that seems so soft, but if there’s anything I jump at, it’s the chance to reinforce the idea that Dabi is, secretly, an emotionally unstable man who probably wouldn’t be able to tell kindness apart from human decency. It’s a character flaw we love to see.

Title: Wants and Needs.

TW: Kidnapping, Stalking, Mentions of Violence, Mentions of Burning, Emotional Manipulation, Slight Dehumanization, and Mentions of Death. 

~

It felt like Dabi needed to watch you, sometimes.

Well, ‘watching’ might’ve been the wrong word of it. He used to watch you, really watch you. He’d stand outside your apartment complex for hours at a time, scanning the side of the building for your window or just lurking near the doors, waiting, stalking. He would watch you from the other side of a bar, an untouched drink in one hand and the other tapping nervous rhythms into the wooden countertop, a group of his more noticeable friends often loitering somewhere in the background. You knew what it felt like to be watched, you knew what he looked like when he was trying to watch you, and you knew he didn’t have a reason to, not anymore. He hadn’t since he locked you up in this filthy apartment, since he fixed you into place, since he cut off your head and mounted it on the wall just so he’d be able to glance at his trophy and admire himself once or twice a day. Sometimes less, if he was distracted. Sometimes more, if he was feeling cruel.

Staring felt primal. Staring felt hot, alighting your skin with the kind of itching, paranoid fire prey must’ve felt when it discovered it wasn’t really a predator.

This was barely lukewarm, in comparison.

He was doing it again, for the second time today, the seventh time this week. You tried not to pay him any mind, not to return his prying gaze, but it was hard to stay focused on the book in your hands while he was in the doorway, one shoulder slumped against the frame and his fists shoved in his pockets, his eyes half-lidded but unblinking, all the same. He didn’t seem to dislike silence, but he hated it when you said something he didn’t want to hear, a lesson the scarred skin plated over your chest could testify to. It was hard to tell what might set him off, and you tried to avoid topics that didn’t suit the domestic fantasy he’d carved out for himself, but your room was small, more of a closet with a bed shoved into the corner. Unless you wanted to pull the sheets over your head and act like a child attempting to block out the darkness, there was nowhere you could go that his stare wouldn’t follow. Confrontation wasn’t the wisest route, but he had a way of whittling down your options, like that. The worst path was often the only path, when Dabi was around.

Still, you tried to keep things simple, keep your tone neutral and your attention centered on the page you were open to, even if you hadn’t read a word since he made his first appearance. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” His response came quickly, defensively. As if he was the one with a collar around his neck and a chain keeping him linked to the nearest wall. “Obviously, nothing’s wrong. Did I say anything was wrong?”

He hadn’t said anything. He never said anything, not on his own, not after he fell into one of his moods. You couldn’t expect anything else, though, not from the man that’d spoken his first words to you while forcing a needle-full of something clear and dizzying into your jugular vein. “You seem tense,” You mumbled, trying to resist the temptation to sink into the barred headboard. “You get… kill-y, when you’re tense. I’m allowed to worry when you start to look like you’re plotting my death.”

“I’ve never killed you,” He scoffed, thinking for a moment before shaking his head, straightening his posture before he went on. “If anything, I should be the one doling out the questions. I’ve been taking care of you, I’ve been spoiling you, and you still act like I’m going to rip your heart out the minute I get close to you.” He was getting aggressive, now, but it was far from the bright, sadistic glee he usually wore while searching for an excuse to fill your lungs with smoke and coat you in your own blood. No, this was something darker, something duller, more of a tantrum than anything, a fit that was more likely to end in a few harsh names and a forgotten meal than real violence. That didn’t mean he was any less volatile as he went on, though. “I didn’t bring you here just to watch you start shaking every time I put my hands you. I don’t want to scare you. I don’t want to be the bad guy in my own fucking relationship. I don’t want--”

“What do you want?”

Immediately, Dabi fell silent, going rigid as soon as you cut off his rant. But, if he was really trying to act as altruistic as he claimed to be, you couldn’t be punished just for talking back. Your fists were balling at the bedsheets before you could stop to yourself, your book closed, thrown to the side and your stance just as offensive as Dabi’s, even if all you could do was sit up and lean forward, considering just how short he’d chosen to make your restraints, your tether, your leash. That’s what it was, really - you were on a leash, made into a glorified pet, one that refused to lick its master’s cheek, even after he made such an effort to bring it home and lock it in a cage. Honestly, he should just be glad you didn’t choose to bite, instead. “You kidnapped me, I’m a captive. I don’t have to prance around and just to keep you entertained just because you’re nice enough to make sure I don’t starve to death. How am I supposed to know what you want? It’s not like you’ve ever tried to tell to me.” It was your turn to roll your eyes, your turn to cross your arms and huff. “For all I know, this could just be some prolonged, creative torture session to see which one of us can make the other more miserable before you snap and decide to smother me in my sleep.”

Dabi didn’t speak, but he took a step forward, his passive scowl pulled into a snarl.

Instantly, you remembered why you’d made an effort to hold your tongue, before.

You opened your mouth, a dozen different apologies already playing over in your mind, but by the time you could think about vocalizing something small and pathetic enough to earn his forgiveness, lithe fingers were already slipping under your collar, dragging you forward despite your attempts to hide yourself away. You could practically feel the blow before it came, hot and searing and unbearable and...

And gentle.

The hit never came. As abruptly as his aggression had manifested, it dissipated, dissolving into thin air as an arm wrapped around your waist, then another, your chest soon pulled flush against his and his face quickly buried in your shoulder, his body falling onto the mattress like dead-weight, taking yours along with it. His touch was still warm, his calloused palms still smoldering against your lower back, but it didn’t hurt, didn’t bring tears to your eyes, didn’t maim. You didn’t relax, but you were stunned into lifelessness, and that seemed to be enough for Dabi. He let out a heavy, ragged exhale, pulling you closer in the space between one breath and the next. “I just…” He started, only to trail off, his lips pressing into a stern, sealed line against the dip of your shoulder. “I don’t know what I want. I just know I don’t want you to hate me.”

Any other time, you might’ve called him out. You hated him, you had to hate him, and he had to know that, even if he tried not to acknowledge it. You moved to push him away, to free yourself from his vice-grip, but something stopped you. A hitched breath, a scalding dampness against your skin. An inaudible, almost unnoticeable attempt to speak, only for his thoughts to be swallowed down with something that sounded eerily similar to a cracked sob, or… the closest Dabi could come to one of those, at least.

Your hands settled in his hair, instead, carding through the ash-stained mess, encouraging him to lean ino you, rather than back away. You still didn’t like him, and no amount of tears would earn him your pity, but…

He wasn’t looking at you. He couldn’t, when he was like this.

That’d have to be enough, for now.

[monstersandmaw]

Male vampire x male character - Part Two (nsfw) (Halloween ‘surprise’ Patreon story).

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I'm really pleased that you and my Patrons enjoyed the first part, and that folks were keen for more. I’ve had more interaction with this post on Patreon than many of the others, which is surprising given how mlm stories are usually much less in demand than m/f ones. Thanks for that!

Anyway, here's more of our favourite oblivious dork Alec and his obviously-not-a-vampire crush... Part Three is on the way too (tomorrow), despite this having been planned as a quick porn-without-plot one-shot, as it were. Oh well?!

Hope you enjoy.

Part One

After his initial - admittedly strange - meetings with Sebastien, Alec didn’t see him on campus at all for the rest of the week, and he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that. Yes, the guy had been a bit of a pompous arsehole in the library, but he’d made up for it by coming to the art room and apologising, engaging him in conversation — even if that conversation had been slightly… odd? — and being so god-damn-fucking beautiful too.  

He overheard his students gossiping about ‘Dr. Dulac’ earlier that afternoon while they all carved the pumpkins he’d bought for them at the local supermarket, and it seemed that the general consensus was that Sebastien was single, unfailingly polite (even in the face of Janette Hilton, the English Department’s longest-serving and least sympathetic lecturers), hotter than any celebrity you cared to name, and a specialist in the poets of the First World War like Sassoon and Brooke, among other more esoteric interests.  

After an hour of clock-watching in his tiny little office in the Art Department on Friday, he abandoned all hope of concentrating on his last few bits of admin, and shut down his laptop. After clearing up yet more pumpkin seeds that he’d somehow missed on the last two sweeps he’d done of the studio, he stepped outside, never wanting to see another bloody thing again. Too bad he had a whole bloody cardboard box of them waiting to go into the boot of Kay’s car for her party that night. Still, he was almost sinfully proud of the carvings he’d done on them. One was decorated the whole way around with the foliate style engravings usually reserved for the steel on antique guns, with different depths to create the highlights and shadows, and another particularly spherical one had been cut away in squares to resemble the Death Star.  

The October air outside bit into his lungs as he drew a deep breath - the spicy, fragrantly damp scents of autumn filling his nose - and his eye was drawn to the twinkling lights of the little coffee cart that still lingered in the park, selling tea, coffee, and hot chocolate to chilly students leaving the university campus for the night. With a black coffee for himself in one hand, he made his way to the Engineering Department, warily holding another frothy concoction in his other. It was apparently called a ‘London fog’ and it smelled of earl grey tea and lavender. He thought it sounded (and smelled) disgusting, but Kay perked right up when he deposited it on her desk five minutes later.  

“Bless you, Alec Twayblade,” she grinned, taking the plastic lid off and inhaling it like it was the best thing she’d ever smelled. “Oh my god. How can you not like this?” she said after taking a huge gulp and moaning obscenely.  

Alec didn’t bother to reply, his eye-roll speaking volumes anyway. They’d had this discussion so many times that they were both probably playing it out silently in their heads right that second. When Kay glanced up and saw that he certainly was, she snorted and grinned. “I love you, Alec,” she laughed. “You’re still coming tonight?”

“Against my better judgement,” he growled, leaning his weight on her desk and folding his arms across his battered, blue cable knit sweater. He had a huge daub of yellow paint on one elbow from that morning, and a small burn hole in the bottom from a failed attempt at pyrography a few years ago. It was the most comfortable jumper he owned, and he would probably wear it until it unravelled around him.  

“You’re still not going to wear a costume, are you?” she added as she stood, pouting.  

He shook his head. “I draw the line at that.”

“But you’d be so good making one!” she countered. “You helped me with that bat costume when we were at high school… Don’t you remember how fucking awesome it was?”

“I do,” he chuckled. “But I’m not going to wear one myself.”

She sighed, shoulders slumping. “Too much attention, huh?” she said softly. “Well, you know you’ll stand out more if you’re not wearing one tonight…?”

He shrugged. Honestly, he just couldn’t be bothered to dress up. Halloween had rather lost its shine for him anyway. “Not if I hide in the kitchen all night and make too-strong cocktails for everyone,” he said, flashing her his most roguish grin. “Plus, I spent much of today carving pumpkins with nattering eighteen year olds who are far too old to be carving pumpkins on academic time, but —”

“— you’re an awesome teacher who understands the need to let off some steam on the holidays,” she interjected. “Plus, it’s good practice anyway… working with a new medium…”

He allowed his lips to pinch upwards into a tiny smirk and let her have that one. “It’s nice to see them having fun,” was all he said.  

An hour or so later, just as he arranged the last of the pumpkins down the garden path of Kay's Victorian semi-detached house, a voice murmured from behind him, “I can see the hand of a master at work in these carvings.”

Not having heard anyone approaching, Alec jumped, cursed, and dropped the pumpkin - thankfully with the candle still unlit. It rolled in a semicircle until a black boot gently stopped it, and a familiar face dipped into view as the owner of the boot bent to pick it up. To his surprise, it was Sebastien, and he was in costume. Probably anyway. Hopefully? Fuck. Alec’s brain stalled at the sight of him.  

His eyes raked up Sebastien’s body and his jaw went quite literally slack.  

The slender man was wearing thigh-high boots and leather pants so tight they had to have been spray-painted on, into which was tucked a loose, old-fashioned, white shirt with a good bit of flounce at the collar. “Holy shit,” he whispered, and Sebastien chuckled softly, a low, amused sound in the back of his throat.  

“You recognise the costume?” he asked, seeming innocently amused. The long, dark coat, accented with gold brocade and bright gold buttons, opened briefly in a soft gust of wind that made the lit pumpkins flicker and lifted his loose, silver-white hair back for a breath as well.  

“I…” he swallowed. “Uh, you’re Alucard,” he croaked. “From the Castlevania games…” A wry incline of Sebastien’s head told him he was correct, and then Alec blurted stupidly, “Shouldn’t you be shirtless though?”

Sebastien’s smile grew from pleased to deeply amused, his eyes glittering, and it was only then that Alec noticed the contacts burning a bright gold in his eyes and, as his lips peeled back and Sebastien began to laugh, he saw long, tapering, white canines befitting a vampire costume. “It’s a little cold for that, don’t you think?” Sebastien asked, still laughing quietly as Alec flushed crimson.  

“Sorry,” he blurted. “I know. I just… forget it.”

“Where do you want it?” Sebastien asked, and Alec’s poor brain went blank.  

“What?”

“The pumpkin,” Sebastien deadpanned and Alec’s poor, blank brain melted out of his ears with embarrassment.  

“Uh… there’s fine,” he said, pointing at the little wrought-iron garden gate.  

Sebastien placed the pumpkin down on the flagstone path so that the carved graveyard scene glimmered and flickered with appropriate spookiness, visible to anyone approaching along the quiet, suburban street. Enormous London plane trees stood sentry every few paces, heaving up the tarmac pavement with their roots, like a sleeper shifting a blanket with a restless turn, and sheltering the cars snuggled and parked beneath them. A carpet of leaves clung to the gutter in a long, golden line, melting into nothing in places in the glittering puddles. It would have been beautiful, had Alec not been faced with quite literally the most beautiful thing in the entire universe.  

“Am I early then?” Sebastien asked, dusting off his palms and turning back to face Alec, who had barely managed to make his legs work long enough to stand up straight again.  

He shook his head. “No. Henry’s inside already,” he said, running his fingers through his scruffy black hair. “With Rachel and Alison. I just forgot to put the pumpkins out earlier.”

“No costume?”  

With a roll of his eyes, he shook his head. “Nope.”

“Too bad,” Sebastien said, eyeing the front door. The contacts were really creepy, shifting in the light that spilled down the stairs as the front door suddenly opened and Kay stepped out before he could worry that he’d been the only one to dress up. He could probably brush it off anyway, Alec supposed, and tried not to envy the man’s quiet confidence.

Silhouetted starkly against the hall light, with her high ‘Dracula’ collar on prominent display, Kay shrieked with glee and clapped her hands when she saw Sebastien. Apparently the two of them had been getting along rather well, while Alec had sequestered himself away in the Art Department like an ascetic.  

“Bastien! You look amazing oh my god!” she blurted, rushing forwards a step or two before halting abruptly. “Wait, does that make me your father for the evening?” she cackled. “Wow, your teeth are really good! Mine wouldn't stay in for more than a few minutes…”

Sebastien’s gold eyes flickered sideways to Alec but it happened so briefly that he almost missed it. “Custom made a long time ago,” was all he said. “Shall we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”

“Yes, of course, come on in,” she said, waving them all inside, Sebastien first. As Alec passed her last, she slapped him hard on the backside in rebuke and hissed, “Told you you should have worn a costume! You look like a big dumbo!”

“No different from any other night,” he quipped back, and she growled something indistinct at him. Perhaps a werewolf costume would have suited her better. “You could have told me you’d invited Dulac…”

“Why?” she retorted. “So you could suddenly decide that an evening moping alone with your PS4 playing Rocket League with strangers was more appealing? No fucking chance. Get inside. Sebastien’s right; I’m freezing my tits off.”

The distant murmur of voices in the living room made him veer off instinctively into the kitchen, and while they began to watch some old Hammer horror film, he made drinks. That, at least, he was good at.  

Entering a while later, he found that Sebastien was seated on the sofa beside Henry, who wore an enormously fluffy wolfman costume - mostly a repurposed Chewbacca onesie with a latex wolf mask. He’d pushed the mask up onto his head in order to eat the Halloween themed nibbles on the coffee table, and the effect rendered him entirely ridiculous. Another reason not to wear a costume: it’s impractical, and gets in the way, and washing ketchup out of matted fake fur is a nightmare. Alison and Rachel sat practically in each other’s laps, one a zombie and the other a ghost, both squeezed into one groaning old armchair.  

After half an hour of Christopher Lee’s admittedly creepy Dracula, Alec slid from his seat at the periphery, and ducked out again into the kitchen. Straightening from fishing a beer from the back of the fridge, he heard the soft click of the door and turned to find Sebastien standing there.  

“Get bored with late 1950’s horror too?” Alec asked. “Beer?”

Sebastien inclined his head in a way that said he wasn’t a beer drinker and held up his almost-empty wineglass as an excuse as he moved a little closer. “If you don’t like cheesy horror films, and you don’t seem to like Halloween either, I wonder why you came at all tonight?”

“For Kay,” he said, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. “She loves this shit.”

At that, Sebastien paused, a delicate smile on his face. In the soft glow of the under-cupboard lighting, his tanned skin seemed to shimmer, and Alec wondered fleetingly if he’d put some kind of glittery body powder on. Next, he wondered what on earth Sebastien was doing in here with him, looking at him like that.  

“You are a good friend,” Sebastien said quietly, seeming perhaps a little sad around the edges.  

“She’s done more than her fair share of looking after me,” Alec sighed knowingly. “Not that I’m doing it because I owe her,” he added, twisting the cap off the bottle and leaning back against the counter to drink deeply from it. As the malty froth washed over his tongue, he felt eyes on him and looked over at the other man.  

Sebastien tilted his head slightly to the side, the false golden light in his eyes making him look like a cat in the dark. “You said she was trying to set you up with someone…”

Alec snorted, nearly shooting beer out of his nose. “Yeah. Well, she seems to think a good fuck will sort my mood out.”

“But you think otherwise?”

“You offering?” he asked bitterly, taking another swig and feeling uncharacteristically bold, though absolutely not expecting the answer he got.  

“Perhaps.”

His eyebrows shot up and this time he did cough a little. “You can’t be serious.”

“You think someone who looks like me is entirely straight?” he asked with a wry smile, and Alec had to hand it to him. Not many men he knew could pull of long, luscious, white-blond hair like that, or would have the confidence to wear fucking thigh-high boots and whisper-tight leather pants…

“Still… you don’t really know me… That’s all I meant…”

“Doesn't mean one couldn’t engage in — how did you call it? — ‘a good fuck’. Not that I’m averse to getting to know you better, before or after.”

Alec swallowed another enormous gulp of frothing beer and blinked. “You’re serious?”

With a melodramatic smile that revealed his vampire teeth clearly, ‘Alucard’ purred, “Deadly.”

And Alec burst out laughing. The spell was shattered and the two men shared the remnants of their drinks and their laughter together before Alec sighed. “Your place or mine?”

At that, Sebastien seemed to falter, as if he hadn’t thought through to that point. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “I assume yours would be alright?”

Alec shrugged. “Sure, if you don’t mind smacking your head on the ceiling and being able to touch two opposite walls at the same time…”

Sebastien’s lips hitched into another wry smile. “I’ve fucked in tighter spaces, I’m sure.”

“You know what?” Alec said as he rinsed out the beer bottle at the sink and half-turned to look at the other man over his shoulder. “You’re absolutely not what I expected.”

“Nor were you,” he shot back, still smirking. “And it’s been a while since I was assaulted by someone in a library.”

“Bring back happy memories, did it?” he snorted.  

“Not exactly,” Sebastien murmured, and Alec realised he hadn’t actually been joking. “But I must confess that — despite my behaviour — I was pleasantly surprised by the sight of you when you rounded that bookshelf…”

Turning, Alec approached him cautiously. If he was genuinely serious about his proposal, Alec would find out now. “Pleased enough to seek me out afterwards…” he said, raising his eyebrows. He couldn’t do that ‘one brow at a time’ thing that Sebastien could, but it seemed to get his tone across all the same.

Unusually for Alec, Sebastien had an inch or two on him in height, and as Alec paused in front of him, close enough to catch the faintest hint of a woody cologne, the man angled his face just perfectly for the light to dance along his high cheekbones. Fuck, he was exquisite. The urge to kiss him rose in Alec; to feel his lips against his own, to have those elegant hands scrunch his hair…  

As if reading his mind, Sebastien slowly, carefully, raised his right hand and brought his index finger to Alec’s chin, tilting it upwards just a fraction with the lightest pressure. The intensity in his eyes was almost too much, and it left Alec breathless. Again. Panting slightly, he parted his lips and then swallowed thickly.  

Sebastien’s eyes darted instantly to the motion of his throat and for a second, Alec could have sworn he saw a vibrant red light reflected in his eyes. Sensing his moment of hesitation, of tension, Sebastian frowned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Alec breathed. “I thought your eyes went red but it must have been a car on the street outside or something.”  

“Indeed,” he murmured, but then blinked rapidly. “Do you still wish to continue this?”

“Yes,” he whispered. Don't stop now. His whole body was thrumming in a way it hadn’t ever before with casual encounters. He felt alive for the first time in months.  

Sebastien stepped back, turning his face away a little more. “Should we make our excuses…?”

Alec shook his head. “Nah, Kay will know what’s going on anyway, and I don’t want to face her smug looks until tomorrow at the least.”

With a softly amused chuckle, Sebastien stepped back and allowed Alec to leave the room first. The hair on the back of his neck prickled as the other man followed behind, but he didn't turn around or look at him until they were outside on the main street.  

“It’s a bit of a walk…” Alec said, only realising then how long the walk would be. “I’m way over on the other side of town by the station…”

The continuing intensity of Sebastien’s scrutiny was beginning to shift from a turn-on to just marginally unnerving, but he told himself that an esteemed professor at one of the country’s finest universities, with more letters after his name than anyone his age had a right to possess, was unlikely to be truly dangerous for a one-night stand… right? There was something about the way he stared at Alec — an unmistakable hunger in his eyes — that made his skin prickle and his heartbeat jump instinctively. Like a deer before the gaze of a tiger, he was entranced.  

Unexpectedly, Sebastien’s easy stride slowed at the brick gateway to a small, gravel park that sat between an old church and a chemist, the latter closed at this time of night. “May I kiss you?” he breathed, still gazing at him unblinkingly, as though Alec were the pretty one in this equation, not him.  

Alec couldn’t help grinning. The way Sebastien’s eyes bored into him then drove all thought of threat and fear from his mind, and he nodded.  

The man’s hands were chilly from the night air, but the moment they cupped his jaw and drew Alec toward him, he forgot about that. He forgot about everything at the meeting of their lips. Sebastien began tentatively, merely brushing their lips together, but when his golden eyes fluttered closed, he deepened the gesture, tongue just begging entrance, teasing him before withdrawing, retreating and returning.  

Searing want shot down Alec’s spine and he arched into Sebastien’s taller body, hips seeking contact through his jeans. He moaned, deep and guttural, and it seemed to awaken something in Sebastien, because the man grabbed hold of the back of Alec’s hair and pulled his head slightly to one side to begin to kiss along his jawline, down to wards his neck. For a heartbeat, Sebastien froze there, nose pressed to his rabbiting pulse point, his teeth just grazing skin, before he exhaled harshly and stepped back. “We shouldn’t get carried away,” was all he whispered, stepping slightly out of Alec’s dazed field of view. “My place is nearer though.”

“Ok,” Alec said, still reeling. “Sure.”

When they reached the apartment building, his steps faltered in amazement. “You live… here?”

A slight flush seemed to warm Sebastien’s cheeks as he stepped up to the main doorway, only to have it opened from the other side by a man in livery. “Good evening, Monsieur Dulac,” said the friendly doorman instantly.  

“Good evening,” he replied. “This is my friend, Alec Twayblade.”

It was impossible for the doorman not to realise that his ‘friend, Alec Twayblade’ was going to be a little more than that for the night, but he never let a flicker of judgement pass across his face. From the concierge desk - Sebastien’s building had a fucking concierge desk too - another man looked up and wished them both a good evening as they headed for the lifts.  

“Does the English department also sell diamonds or drugs or something? How the fuck can you afford a place like this on a lecturer’s salary?” but even as he said it and the doors closed with a soft chime, he realised the truth of it. Sebastien’s aristocratic features and bearing were not merely a persona. They were truth. He stared up at him while Sebastien turned a key in the lift panel.

“Are you secretly royalty or something?” he whispered, only half joking.  

The man shot him an amused look and shook his head, silk-white hair whispering against the rougher wool of his costume coat. “No, of course not, but I do have some inherited wealth.”

Some? “So you don’t actually have to work at the university at all then?”

He made a so-so motion of his head and said, “No, not really, but I genuinely enjoy teaching.”

“Your students certainly seem to enjoy you…”

“You don’t enjoy teaching?” he asked as the numbers on the dial climbed and climbed.  

Please don’t say you live in the fucking penthouse too, Alec thought, already suspecting it might be true from the whole ‘special access key’. He glanced at the number pad and saw that the button labelled ‘PH’ was illuminated. Fuck. “Most days I enjoy it,” he admitted. “But I kind of fell into it a while back and just sort of…” he shrugged, “Stuck with it.”

Sebastien asked no more, and the lift finally stopped on the top floor. The doors drew back to reveal an apartment beyond that Alec could only gawp at. It was like something from the set of an Architectural Digest photo shoot. Nothing was out of place in the hardwood floor paradise, with clean, crisp lines and white marble counter tops in the kitchen off to his left, while a comfortable, and yet still clinically modern, sitting area sat to their right. Deep, fluffy rugs dotted that part of the penthouse, and a wide balcony stretched out over the city beyond, complete with a little table and chairs for warmer evenings.  

“This place is incredible,” Alec breathed, the reason for his even being here completely forgotten.  

Clearly sensing that, Sebastien smiled bashfully and said, “Would you like something to drink?”

Alec cleared his throat and hoped he wasn’t going to be faced with a choice between very expensive wines that he’d never heard of. “Sure… thanks.”

“White, red, beer, or whisky?” he asked, walking towards the kitchen and dumping his ‘Alucard’ coat over the back of a white sofa as he went. Alec’s mouth went dry as he watched the point where his narrow hips met the flowing material of the white shirt. Dear god, an arse like that shouldn’t be… well, it just shouldn’t be. And yet there it was. Clad in leather and looking positively delectable. “Or a soft drink?” he added when Alec remained silent.  

Aware of where his gaze had landed, Sebastien halted and looked back over his shoulder, long, loose, naturally straight hair already losing the curls that had been worked into it for the Alucard costume. Definitely not straight, if he owned hair curlers.  

“Uh…” Alec said, unsure what the question had even been now.  

“I’m going to pour myself a whisky, if that helps…?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Sebastien smiled, looking almost endeared by Alec’s inept stuttering. Surely he couldn’t be unused to such a reaction? “Make yourself at home then.”

With a smoky, peat-tinged whisky in a wide, heavy-bottomed tumbler set on his glass coffee table, Alec watched Sebastien turn the gas fire on, and, to his surprise, he came to a halt directly in front of him. Setting his own whisky down on the table with a deliberate, and yet delicate, clunk, Sebastien turned back to him and raked his eyes down Alec’s body in a way that made him flush hot all over. His cock twitched with interest and he tried not to preen under that gaze.  

Sebastien’s eyes and teeth were back to normal now, with no hint of the golden contacts or the vampire fangs, and Alec fleetingly assumed that he must have removed them at some point between getting the whisky and appearing in front of him looking like he was about to ravish him. Oh dear god, please let him be about to ravish me, he thought with a big, dumb grin spreading across his face.  

Seeing his reaction, Sebastien reached down and knelt facing him on the sofa, running his palm over the already-growing bulge in Alec’s jeans. Alec let out a deep grunt and rocked his hips up into the contact, throwing his head back against the soft, open weave of the white fabric. “Oh fuck,” he hissed.  

Sebastien’s fingers found the button of his jeans and deftly undid it, but he paused. “May I?” he asked, and Alec found himself nodding before he’d even worked out what Sebastien wanted.  

He found out a moment later, when his jeans were around his ankles and Sebastien was kneeling on the floor between his knees and licking a long stripe up the length of his rapidly hardening cock.  

“Oh god,” he panted as the wet heat of Sebastien’s mouth engulfed half of his length and then drew back to leave his wet tip exposed to the slight chill of the apartment air. The contrast stole his breath for a heartbeat, but Sebastien returned his attentions to his cock, gently sucking and working him to full hardness in a matter of minutes.  

Pleasure sparked through Alec’s whole body and he strained not to thrust back into Sebastien’s mouth, even as Sebastien took him right to the back of his throat, the tip of Alec’s cock nudging against the silky resistance of his throat.  

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he chanted as Sebastien’s fingertips just teased and caressed the underside of his balls too, and Sebastien hollowed his cheeks and sucked a little more insistently. “Oh fuck…” Really fucking eloquent here, Alec, he thought vaguely, but one look down at the vision kneeling between his legs and sucking him off drove even that thought from his brain.  

The suck and slide of Sebastien’s mouth was incredible, and while he had no idea quite how much time passed, it felt like mere seconds as the heat stoked in him until he could feel the orgasm threatening to crash through him. “I’m… I’m really close…” he gasped as Sebastien moaned against his cock, sending little vibrations thrumming through him and tipping him even closer. The sharp prick of his teeth every now and again was a perfect counterpoint to the slick heat of his mouth, and it was never enough to hurt. Normally Alec wasn’t one for including teeth in this, but with Sebastien, it felt perfect.  

Sebastien pulled back just as Alec felt himself beginning to coil up, his lips swollen and glistening from the exertion of bringing him that close, and he smiled. He looked radiant, and Alec’s cock twitched enthusiastically in his hands as he let out a soft whimper. The air was cold and his tip beaded pre-come freely, which Sebastien thumbed away with a surprisingly tender gesture, only to watch as more pearled immediately at his slit. Using just the tip of his tongue, Sebastien lapped at it delicately and Alec’s whole body shuddered.  

His thighs shook at the tiny, intense stimulation, with Sebastien's fingers gripping the base of his cock in a tight circle, and he gasped, chest heaving. It was too much and not enough, and as he found his perineum teased as well, he bellowed and trembled. He was half a heartbeat away from coming harder than he could ever remember coming in his life, and Sebastien wasn’t going to let him have it. He roared and ground his teeth, bucking his hips, which made Sebastien laugh softly.  

“Alright,” he heard him murmur, before he swallowed him down to the back of his throat again, and Alec shattered with a yell.

When he finally blinked his eyes open, he found that Sebastien had risen and was sitting on the small sofa beside him, whisky in hand, staring openly at him. He didn’t look smug exactly, but there was a quiet satisfaction to his brown eyes that made Alec flush, at which Sebastien’s beautiful lips drew back into a smile. He noted again those slightly larger canines, but they were nothing like the vampire teeth he had worn earlier.  

“What do you want?” Alec asked, voice hoarse. God, he sounded wrecked. Had he really shouted so hard he’d made his throat sore?

Sebastien’s dolorous, dark eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “What do you want?”

“To watch you come,” he said immediately.  

“And how would you like me to come?” Sebastien replied, sipping nonchalantly at the golden liquor as if the were discussing what Alec would like Sebastien to wear. As it was, his leather pants were constricting his obvious hard-on in a way that had to be painful for him, and his shirt was open at the neck to reveal delicate collarbones and a glimpse of his beautiful olive skinned chest.  

He was an absolute vision. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he blurted in a whisper before he could stop himself, and to his surprise, Sebastien laughed. The sound was bright, delighted, and oddly self-conscious, as if he hadn’t been expecting a compliment like that. “Sorry,” he added, looking away. “Look… if you’ve got condoms, I’m… I’m good to… you know…”

“You want me to fuck you?” Sebastien asked, his gaze sharpening again.  

“Yes?”  

“’Yes?’ Or ‘yes’…?” Sebastien asked, seeking clarification.  

“Yes. But I don't understand your question.”

“Look at me,” Sebastien said.  

“Hard not to…” Alec quipped back, still feeling utterly wrung out.  

“Most people assume I’m going to be the one taking it…”

Alec’s eyebrows rose as realisation settled. “Oh. And, what, I look like a top?”

Sebastien’s lips twitched. “Conventionally more so than I do, with your rugged looks and the rough shadow around your jaw…”

“So… do you want me to… you know…? Or…” Fuck, he felt like a teenager again, struggling to articulate himself and not get his sentences in a tangle while this breathtaking creature just sat there and watched him make an idiot out of himself.

“I very much want to fuck you,” Sebastien said at last. “If you’d like that as well.”

“Yes,” he said instantly.  

Sebastien set down his glass and rose in a single, elegant motion, and then held his hand out to Alec.

His skin was still cool, especially next to Alec’s searing body, and his hold was steady as Alec heaved himself to his feet and allowed himself to be alternately tugged and kissed into the bedroom. 

___

Part Three

Behold, plot has appeared to go with the Halloween porn I had planned. Alec’s family will come up in the next chapter.

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me  know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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[hi-hey-haechan]

jaehyun with an inexperienced gf tht gets rlly shy during their first time with some body worship and stuff 🤧

Kissing Jaehyun was always a wonderful feeling. He made you feel loved from just his body language. 

Following his practice, he’d come over to your apartment, a place at which he spent more and more time. He seemed tired, but his smile to you was bright and loving and sincere. Jaehyun was lying down on the bed, head on the pillow. Part of you was draped over him, the rest of your body lying next to his.

The kiss was soft and patient. The glancing touch of his soft lips brushing your own mouth was enough to send shivers throughout your entire body, but at the same time, it made you feel tingly and warm. Your mouth curled into a small smile, and his lips continued to kiss yours. Almost automatically, your fingers slid under his head, lightly tangling in his silky strands of hair. This, in some impossible way, brought his mouth closer to yours, giving you better access to it. His hands moved to hold your waist gently. The spot was more intimate than one would commonly think, and you enjoyed the feeling of being so close to him. 

Close, but just kissing. Regarding anything beyond that, you never asked, and he never pushed. You two could lazily make out for hours, but that was all it ever was. The idea of having sex with him excited you, but at the same time, it scared you. Being so exposed to him, every single part of you, with nothing you could hide. You weren’t the most secure person regarding your own body. It wasn’t your fault that you weren’t a model, or that you had a few stretch marks on your thighs and hips. Jaehyun loved you, every inch of you, but part of you feared that after fully seeing you, he’d feel differently. You wondered if he’d see you the same way you viewed yourself. 

Jaehyun’s tongue flicked past his lips, swiping against your bottom lip, asking for entrance. At just this sensation alone, a gasp was stifled in the back of your throat. You opened your mouth, allowing him to deepen the kiss with a low groan. His mouth was less gentle, and his tongue and lips against yours turned the blood in your veins to liquid fire. Your mouths were hungry for each other, exploring this territory that was fairly new.

For a moment, Jaehyun broke away. He was panting, and he sat up, with his back against the headboard of the bed. Still holding your waist, he pulled you into his lap, which you straddled, knees on either side of his hips. His mouth was slightly parted, lips swollen and red from kissing you. Seemingly absentmindedly, he licked his lips as his eyes flickered from your gaze, back down to your mouth. He then met your stare with his own. Jaehyun’s eyes were dark, which you could clearly see, even from just the faint lamplight that illuminated the room in a warm glow.

You crashed your lips to his in an almost-harsh manner, not even hesitating before parting the seam of his lips with your tongue. A strangled groan left his throat in surprise, a sound that affected you more than you were willing to admit. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. 

The way he was kissing you, with so much utter need and desire, was what was riling you up. At times, he’d groan or growl low in his throat, showing you that he was enjoying this make-out session just as much as you were. His hands were tight on your waist, but lower this time, almost grasping your hips. Even his hold on you was desperate, you realized. He pulled you flush against his torso, letting you feel every ridge of his torso against yours. You could imagine what was under that shirt: the wide expanse of his strong chest, broad shoulders, and the muscles of his stomach. In that second, you wanted nothing more than to lightly ghost your fingertips across the smooth, burning skin of his abdominal muscles in a whispering caress that could make him shudder.

Closer. That was what you needed: him to be closer to you, not separated by the fabric of your shirts nor the metaphorical distance your anxiety placed between you. At the same time, you needed to do something to satisfy the ache between your legs, which had just surfed to the front of your consciousness. To test the waters, you lightly ground yourself down onto his crotch.

He was hard. This was the first thing you noticed as soon as your hips put more pressure on his crotch. How had you not noticed it before? For a moment, the ache was relieved. The friction between your heat and his hard bulge brought you a second of pleasure, and small sigh left your mouth, against his own. Jaehyun groaned, lips breaking away from yours. 

“Baby,” he said in a low voice, slightly raspy from the kissing, as well as the lust that he was clearly displaying, “what are you doing?”

You hesitated for a second. What were you supposed to say? That he’d turned you on to the point that you needed something to briefly satisfy you? “I-I...” you didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know, okay? I’m sorry,” you whispered. Your eyes failed to meet Jaehyun’s and you shifted over to one knee, about to get off of his lap.

“You don’t need to apologize for anything,” Jaehyun assured you. His voice was warm and soft, and his hands were just as gentle, but they tugged at your waist very lightly, sending you a hint. You did as he wished and sat back down on his legs. “But I have to know what you want, so I can act accordingly.” As in, he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable in any way by his actions, therefore insisting you speak up for yourself with him. Your heart swelled with love.

“I want everything.” You wanted him to kiss you everywhere. You wanted him to make you feel good, and you wanted him to tell you how much he loved you while doing so.  

“Are you sure? Are you 110% positive that you want this?”

You nodded. “I’m ready. Seriously, I am.”

Jaehyun leaned forward to press a chaste kiss against your lips. He then leaned back, lightly grabbed your hands, and moved them to the hem of his shirt. You pulled it up above his head and flung it away, hearing the fabric fall onto the floor of the room. 

The room was silent as you looked down at his exposed torso. Your eyes scanned over his collarbones, chest, stomach--you wanted to kiss every inch of his skin. Shyly, your fingers grazed the muscles of his stomach, mapping out the smooth ridges that were hot against the light touch of your fingertips. He shuddered under the caress. You grew more confident with your hands, touching less lightly, lingering more. Your palms slid over the soft skin of his broad shoulders and down his chest. He let out a soft gasp when your thumbs ran over his nipples. 

Following this, you unbuckled the belt to his jeans, hearing the clink of the metal and rustling of the denim. He removed them, leaving him in nothing except his boxers. You sat on his strong thighs, looking at his exposed figure. His member was straining against the fabric of his boxers.

Jaehyun flipped you over so he was on top of you, now able to do as you had to him. He was fast to remove your shirt and leggings, and as he flung them across the room, you crossed your arms over your stomach, suddenly feeling so exposed to him.

Viewing your apprehension, Jaehyun was quick to cup your face comfortingly, with a worried look in his gorgeous eyes. “You know I love every single part of you, right? Where you see flaw, I see perfection.” His words were nothing but sincere, and you managed a small smile. Jaehyun’s hands lightly grasped your forearms, pulling on them a bit. You weren’t tensing yourself too much, so they came apart without any resistance. He uncrossed your folded arms, allowing himself to see your entire form.

And gosh, you were beautiful to him. The stomach that you despised was what he admired, and any stretch marks were hardly noticed. His thumb grazed over the top of your exposed breasts, seeing you shudder from the sensitivity of the spot. He replaced his hand with his lips, and the warmth of his mouth lightly met your skin. It was a new sensation that you appreciated. Jaehyun kissed a careful line down your stomach, which he adored. His lips curled into a grin as he left kisses down your torso. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered. “I’m so lucky.” To hear him call himself lucky to have you, lucky to see you like this -- it made you want to cry. You felt so utterly loved from his words, from his actions.

He gently caressed the tops of your thighs, thumbs running over the ridges that stretch marks had left behind on your skin. He loved them, too, kissing your skin and smiling. Jaehyun didn’t have to say anything. His gentleness and love made you feel like someone thought you were beautiful. “Every inch of you is perfect,” he promised you, “don’t let anyone or any thought let you forget that.” His words sounded so sincere and full of meaning, and in that moment, you tried to will yourself to believe him.

He kissed your lips again, demeanor gentle and full of love. It very much contrasted with the erection that pressed harshly against your thigh. You pushed his boxers down, freeing his hard member from its constraints. 

Jaehyun ridded you of your final layers, as well, leaving both of you against each other, close as could be. Skin against skin, you laid there. 

And then he was inside of you. The pain was hot and blinding, like a knife had been shoved in a place where knives should not be placed. A strangled cry left your lips, and your hands flew to his back, attempting to find something to grasp onto, to keep yourself anchored amidst the pain. Your eyes were screwed shut. However, despite the sting and his inquiries regarding your desires to cease continuation, you urged him on.

Slowly, the pain lessened. What was once pain was replaced with white-hot pleasure, igniting a fire within you. Jaehyun could move fairly quickly and painlessly between your soaking-wet folds. You could hear the squelching sound of his member inside of your dripping hole. The sound was honestly arousing, turning you on even more. The fact that he’d done that to you, and now used it to his advantage--it was hot in its own way.

He gyrated his hips, and you let out a loud moan at the sudden pleasure. Immediately, your eyes widened, and you clamped your mouth shut. You didn’t know you could make such noises, especially involuntarily. Jaehyun’s reaction, however, wasn’t surprised at all. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. Moan for me, if you feel good. I want to hear you.” He moaned, himself, and it sounded deep and sexy. 

“Faster,” you almost begged. He sped up; his thrusts weren’t too fast, but they were definitely not slow. He went at a good pace, not fast enough for you to completely forget your name, but not at all teasingly slow. Your head was thrown back into the pillow, and a needy whimper left your lips. You felt so good, so impossibly good, like you were flying. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to hit inside of you more deeply. Occasionally, Jaehyun would release a moan or two, and when he did, it was hot. They were so deep, but it was undeniable how much pleasure he was filled with. His eyes were shut, and when he moaned, they were in between his heavy breathing. 

He hit a bundle of sensitive nerves inside of you, causing you to see stars. “Right there,” you exclaimed, attempting to angle your hips to fit him deeper. You clenched involuntarily whenever he hit your g-spot, almost as though your body couldn’t react differently from all the pleasure. You had let loose with your moans, allowing them to pass your mouth freely. They were neither high nor low, but they were clearly expressing how good he was making you feel.

You’d never felt like this before. Sure, you’d gotten yourself off, but having his huge member inside of you, filling you up, hitting every right spot, you were in heaven. Your own fingers never managed as well as he did, not even close. The dream you’d accidentally had a few weeks ago had him doing this to you, and even that wasn’t as incredible as the real thing. 

He continued drilling his hips into you. Wanting to heighten your pleasure, he began to rub your clit roughly in circles. The feeling of his tip on your g-spot and length through your walls, adding to the direct stimulation of your bundle of nerves, hurtled you towards your high. It wasn’t like one you’d ever experienced before. This one seemed like it would be more intense than any time you’d gotten yourself off.

Jaehyun swore and muttered, “Baby, I-I’m gonna cum.” He moaned loudly after that, hips faltering in his pace. 

“M-me, too. Don’t stop-ah,” you were cut off from a moan that felt like it was ripped from you. Your back arched, head swimming with thoughts of anything besides him. “Inside,” you said breathlessly, which he’d already known. 

He came apart while buried inside of you. His cum painted your slick walls, his seed hot as it filled you up. A stream of moans, swears, and repetitions of your name were all you heard from Jaehyun, slowly coming down from his intense claim. 

As his cum filled you up, you fell apart, too, like a string snapped in your lower stomach. Your legs were shaking, eyes screwed shut, mouth parted, head thrown back into the pillow as your intense orgasm overtook you, walls clenching around him. whines were quick to pass your lips, and you said his name over and over again.

You were still wrapped around each other when he pulled out. Neither of you wanted to lose the warmth between you two,

“I love you so much,” Jaehyun whispered. His voice was raspy and low, sounding utterly sincere and full of adoration. He hugged you tighter.

“I love you, too, Jaehyun. Thank you.”

“For what?” he inquired, sounding a bit puzzled.

“For making me feel loved in every way possible.” Before this, you hadn’t realized your need for even unspoken validation. You hadn’t been enough to validate your own self, but Jaehyun did, in every sense of the term.