#i’m very sorry for worrying any of my tumblr mutuals. i had to take the sudden break for the sake of my own mental health

[pallotdip]

self-reflection.

[hanmaenthusiast]

Always and Forever

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

inui x f!reader

warnings - mdni🔞, praise, mutual pining?, sofa sex, oral (female receiving), cunnilingus, unprotected sex, riding, body worship, creampie, basically vanilla smut, slight fluff, profanity, use of pet names such as angel and darling, one mention of blood.

synopsis - you and Inui had been living together for a while, one night he comes home wounded after being attacked at work, you have no choice but to help him out in one way or another.

a/n - this is my first post on tumblr & first time attempting smut! apologies for any mistakes, i’m hoping to write more in the future & get better at it lol, anyway the lack of inui on this app is killing me >:(

wc - 2,950

It was late, much later than usual. Seishu still hadn’t come home considering his shift finishes around 4 on a Saturday, you kept your gaze on the clock which continued to tick past 7pm. You found yourself worrying again, worrying about all the possibilities that could’ve happened to him. I mean it was normal to be this concerned, especially since your long term roommate was an ex gang member.

Once again you started pacing around the room, fingers etching to send another distressing ‘where are you?’ or ‘tell me you’re not dead’ text. Seishu’s stern words replayed in your mind ‘Stop worrying about me Y/N, focus on yourself for once’ as you remembered his constant lectures.

Finally gathering yourself together, a set of keys jamming into the front door caught your attention. Sprinting down the stairs your eyes glued onto Inui’s figure as he stood slightly hunched with a prominent bloody gash on his forehead.

“Seishu what the fuck?” you exclaimed, almost passing out at the sight in front of you. It was like you had premonitions about this scenario only seconds before he made his apperance.

“Agh, not so loud, my head is sore.” he groaned, running a hand through his hair after locking the door behind him. He shuffled his way into the room latching onto your arm for support.

“I can quite well see that, sit down over there i’ll clean you up.” you helped him over to the dining table, placing him down onto one of the wooden seats.

Inui told you what happened, how he was suddenly attacked by a group of presumed male gang members at the motor shop unbeknownst to why it played out. Your gut tightened at the story, afraid of any future encounters with them.

“Jesus, they got you good huh. You have to be more aware from now on, where was Draken hm? You better tell him i’ll-“

“Y/N.” Seishu let out a low sigh, he cut you off before you could finish your sentence.

His gemlike pearls fixed onto yours, exchanging a sombre look. You could tell he didn’t need to hear your berating.

“Sorry.” you muttered continuing to clean up his wound.

Ever since you met Inui, you stuck together like glue both having similar interests and mutual acquaintances made it easier to find a blossoming friendship. Of course, you felt a little more than friends towards Inui continuously expressing your feelings from early on.

“Y’know you’re super cute Seishu-“ you tilted your head, hovering it above his “no wonder there’s tons of people feening over you, me included.” you added, tracing a finger over his scar as he lay his head on your lap.

“Yeah? Same goes for you Y/N.” he replied with his tone full of sarcasm, according to him you were making a joke.

This continued for months, constantly sharing flirty remarks but never pursuing one another. Some people had their suspicions, Draken especially, always assuming you’re both in a secret relationship.

“Oi, Seishu your girlfriend’s outside.” Draken nodded towards the entrance of the shop, wiping his hands clean with a rag.

Inui exhaled followed with a roll of his eyes. “She’s just a friend Ken, i’ve told you this multiple times.”

“Seriously just a friend? That mean i have a chance ‘nupi?” Draken giggled, elbowing his colleague in the arm.

“Don’t you dare even try it.” Seishu warned him.

“There, all cleaned up. There’s some leftovers in the fridge too if you’re hungry.” you declared, but before you could retreat back to the sofa, a soft hand grasped you wrist.

“Thank you, genuinely Y/N. I hope you know i’m grateful for everything you do.”

His glossy eyes stared into yours as his sincere words spilled from his mouth. Seishu’s gaze left you with butterflies, a feeling of comfort you would admit, it was odd to see him so thankful seeing as you should be considered a burden to him for how often you seek his safety.

“I know you are, buuut all that praise will have my ego inflating, on another note it was kinda hot seeing your face all bloody.” you laughed kissing above his wound gently before finding a seat on the sofa.

Moments later Inui joined you, resting his head on your shoulder making use of the rest of the couch as he sprawled out his legs. Once he was settled, you both shared a mutual silence watching the TV.

...11:04pm

Your narrowing eyes scanned over your phone, squinting at it’s bright screen shining into your pupils as you attempted to read the time. ‘Shit, must’ve fell asleep.’ you concluded, shifting your weight onto your elbow as you propped up.

You noticed the familiar blondie sleeping tirelessly beside you, an arm positioned lazily over of your waist. Seishu was sound asleep, or so you thought, his ruffled hair tickling your cheeks as you found yourself laying back down facing towards him.

“So precious.” you whispered, lifting your palm gently onto his face as your thumb rubbed slow circles against his pale skin. This was probably the closest you and Seishu had been, cuddled together, bodies attached to one another seeing as the sofa wasn’t roomy enough.

“That feels nice.” Seishu whispered, his soft spoken voice breaking the silence. He brought his hand to yours, placing it on top as he matched your movements, fingers delicately tracing your skin.

“Oh- uhm, well it looks like we fell asleep, i hope you feel somewhat better after having a nap.” you croaked, suddenly feeling the heat rush to your face from embarrassment. Before you lingered around any longer, you sat upright as your back faced Seishu’s figure “I’ll let you rest a little longer-“

“No, stay.” he grabbed your wrist once again, restricting you from fleeing the scene. “Please…for me?” he pleaded, one arm resting on top of his forehead as the other hand was still wrapped around your wrist.

You hesitated, only for a second until you shortly gave into his innocent eyes face paired with a soppy look. “Anything for you Seishu.” you lay back down, again facing towards him on your side.

“Perfect.” he muttered a breathy whisper, a small smile formed on his face along with his emerald eyes flexing a lustrous stare. A dainty finger of his trailed across your cheek moving a strand of hair from your face.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed again, almost tongue-tied especially in this situation. You and Seishu were admittedly always close but never this intimate.

Once again the atmosphere grew silent but before you could mutter a word, Seishu let out a sigh. “You’re…perfect.” Inui murmured, just loud enough for you to hear.

“Seishu…” a soft exhale escaped your lips.

Inui’s hand found it’s way to your chin, gently lifting it upwards so you were eye level to him. “Can i kiss you, Y/N?” his thumb swiped a slow stripe along your lower lip.

You nodded in reply, discreetly trying to hide your inner enthusiasm as you closed your eyes allowing Inui to take the lead. Seishu’s lips planted a longed for soft-lipped peck against yours, gradually finding motion as he continued kissing your lips.

The thumping of your heart increased, focusing only on the rhythm of how soft and velvety Seishu’s lips felt against your own. His a hand gripped your waist, pulling you closer against him without breaking contact.

Your free hand grasped his blonde locks, running your fingers messily through his hair. Your lips begun to plump, meshing together with Seishu’s perfectly as he slipped his needy tongue into your mouth.

“You- don’t know…how long i’ve- wanted this.” his voice muttered between kisses, claiming your lips after every word. You felt yourself grinding ever so slightly against Inui’s thigh, hoping to release the friction caused by his tongue senselessly invading the depths of your mouth.

Faint whimpers escaped your lips as you continued to slowly rock yourself against Inui’s lower half. “Seishu~“ you panted quietly “N-need more.” your hand balled up his shirt, gripping onto it for support.

Inui’s hand which recently held onto your waist found itself sneakily travelling under your cami, fingers fumbling with the clasp of your bra. He made quick work of removing your shirt slowly followed by slipping off your undergarment.

“God, you’re gorgeous Y/N. So fucking gorgeous.” he admitted, lips tracing along the outline of your jaw as his eyes glistened at the sight of your naked breasts exposed in front of him. “Prettiest tits ever.” His soft hands ghosting over your breasts, thumb and pointer finger capturing one of your hardened nubs beginning to knead the flesh of your mounds.

Seishu slowed his pace, a small string of saliva connected your lips as he broke the kiss. “Tell me what you need angel. Although i must say, the rutting against my leg isn’t very discreet darling.” he joked letting out a small chuckle, eyes glancing down to your clothed needy cunt.

“Want you to…“ you struggled to express your needs, unable to finish your sentence as you buried your face into his chest out of embarrassment. “Don’t go all shy on me now angel, use your words for me okay?” Seishu placed a hand over your tight shorts, pads of his fingers rubbing against your clothed pussy as moved them up and down ever so slightly.

“Ngh! Want more of that, please Seishu.” you choked, almost begging on your knees asking him to please your throbbing cunt. Seishu made quick work of removing your lower garments, pulling down your shorts as he was met with your drenched panties.

“Look at that mess darling, you got this wet just for me?” he caressed your face again, helping you lay underneath him as he moved further down to your lower area, delicately peppering kisses along your stomach.

Inui’s hot breath fanned lightly over your clit “May i?” he questioned. “Yes Seishu.” you replied almost immediately, lifting your hips a little higher to allow easier access to your heat.

Inui’s hands spread your things, gripping onto them for support. His tongue licked a stripe between your folds, coating your cunt with his spit. “Mhm, just how i imagined.” Seishu continued to speak careless whispers into your cunt, his tongue twirling it’s way onto your throbbing clit ultimately forcing you to grind your hips on his face.

His tongue toyed with your bud, circling hearts as he pleasured your arousal. Inui slipped a finger into your entrance, slowly pushing it further before adding a second finger in to accommodate it. “Seishu! Fuck!” you cried out, moaning into you palm.

“Let me hear that voice of yours Y/N.” Inui encouraged you, his eyes staring from above your seeping cunt fingers pumping into you at an increasing speed. “Ngh! Seishu- i’m close!” your hand pushing his head further into your pussy.

Inui’s fingers padded against your sweet spot, curling in motion as he pumped them in and out of your cunt. His tongue continued licking your throbbing clit sucking onto it simultaneously. “Fuck, Y/N, gonna make me cum from that look on your face.” he moaned, fingers scissoring into you faster.

“Fuck~ Seishu- i’m-“ you were cut off by your own moans, legs shaking from the sudden orgasm as your wet slick spilled from your entrance. “Good girl.” Inui let out a hoarse whisper as he pulled his fingers out which glistened in the dim light covered from the tip of his finger to his knuckles in your own cum.

Inui stuck his digits into his mouth, sucking off every last drop of you. “You did so well for me angel, i’ve waited so long for this exact moment.” he exclaimed, hovering above your face before kissing you on the lips again.

“Seishu…i need more of you, right now.” you demanded, a hand palming the tent growing in his pants. Seishu picked you up, resulting in you straddling his lap on the sofa as he sat beneath you. You lifted your hips before quickly pulling down his shorts letting his cock immediately spring free.

Your eyes grew wide. You never expected Seishu to have such a pretty cock, nevermind larger than you’d have imagined. “Like what you see? Seem’s like you underestimated me darling.” he caressed your waist “Lift yourself up for a sec.” as he tapped the outer side of your thigh.

“Wait- wait…i’m on birth control.” you mentioned stopping Inui from getting a condom from the drawers. “You sure about this?” he smirked somewhat enjoying the fact he gets to fuck you raw the first time.

You nodded again, his tip begun toying against your wet folds before casually slipping the head into your dripping entrance. “Agh~ Fuck Seishu!” you let out a breathy moan, eventually taking the full length of his cock. “So tight, ngh- oh fuck.” Inui spoke, guttural whimpers releasing from the depths of his throat as he buried himself deep inside your cunt.

His hands gripped your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he pulled you gently down onto him. You both adjusted to the position, flashing Seishu a look of encouragement as he slowly started to bounce you on his cock, his hips slightly lifting along with yours.

“You like that yeah? Look at those pretty tits.” he mewled as he buried his face onto one of your exposed breasts, tongue ravaging your perky nipples. “Faster- please.” your hand finding its way to the back of his neck.

Inui bucked his hips into you, bouncing you faster onto his rock hard cock. The smacks of your ass echoed throughout the room as they collided with Seishu’s thighs, your tits bouncing along with every movement as Inui pounded further into your cunt. He quickened his pace again, this time you begun grinding faster matching with his speed in which your legs almost turned to jelly from the fastened movements.

“G’na cum so quick baby~.” you whined, dragging out his pet name whilst throwing your head back as he plowed into your pussy. The adrenaline mixed with arousal was too much, your eyes beginning to roll back from the way Seishu’s tip prodded against your g-spot like he was a miner digging for gold.

Seishu kept a firm grip on your ass, still pounding into you as he continued sucking on your tits giving each one equal attention. “Need- agh- your cum on my cock darling.” manoeuvring his hand to your pulsating clit as he thumbed your nub generously. “Yes ngh~ want you so bad Seishu, want your cum inside me.” you choked out, drawing out your moans from the stimulation his cock was causing as he abused your sex.

Inui flipped you over, cock still fucking your tight cunt as you lay on your back, legs wrapping around his waist. “I’ll fuckin’ give it to you Angel, fill- agh- you up with my cum real good.” he cooed, voice almost gravelly from his own moaning.

He smacked his hips against your ass, cock slipping from your hole a few times. “Wettest cunt I've had.” Inui quipped. “The only cunt you’ll ever have from now.” you sent another remark back. 

“I like the sound of that Angel.”

His fingers padded against your clit, vigorously rubbing against it paying close attention to the nub. “Shit- g’na cum gorgeous.” Inui let out another guttural moan “Let’s- cum together.” he ordered you, quickly intertwining your fingers with his as he took your hand. 

Seishu somehow gathered his stamina letting out a few final hard thrusts along with you bucking into him, your walls gradually spasming around his cock. “Agh- Fuck~” you simultaneously croaked, Inui came inside your cunt. Your wet slick spilled all over his cock along with your insides overflowing with Seishu’s seed.

A slow and steady pace allowed you to both ride out your highs, Seishu caressed your cheek removing your hair stuck to your face. “My god you’re gorgeous Y/N.” he pulled himself out, the mess inside leisurely spilling from your entrance.

“Hold on Angel, I'll clean you up.” Seishu grabbed a rag from the washroom, helping you gently as he tided the mess. He came back in his nightwear, seemingly grabbed a shirt that was his which he placed over your head, covering your exposed body just before he lay beside you on the sofa. 

Inui held you tight against him, wrapping his arms around your figure. He knew how to make you feel safe and extremely comfortable, only two of the things on your never ending list of praise for him.

After a short lived moment of silence, you exhaled out a tired sigh “Seishu...I think I lo-”

“I love you, Y/N.” 

You jolted. Almost speechless at his sudden confession, dumbfounded even, burying your face away from his vision once again “No fair, I was gonna say it first.” you complained, lightly pushing his chest. “I wanted to be the first to say it-” he reassured your complaints “I was just looking for the right time.”

“Crazy how it was after you fucked me, eh?” shooting a cheeky wink towards his face. “Yeah right it was a spur of the moment, you were about to say it too.” he spoke in defence, giving you a kiss on the forehead as an apology.

“Not sure why I waited so long, I guess I was just afraid of hurting you.” his answer was sincere, stroking your hair tenderly “I really do love you Y/N-”

“Not to mention how my head no longer hurts, all thanks to you.” Inui gloated.

You sighed, probably in relief after realising the love you shared for him wasn't just some one sided waste for all these years. “I love you too Seishu-” you replied.

“...always and forever.”

[ironwoman359]

This is probably not the best place to ask, but you’re also a Christian woman too. I was wondering what you thought about what the Bible says about women and how we must submit to husbands and some other stuff that has me (a potential ace) Christain woman kind of terrified. I would go to my church but social anxiety and my church is pretty conservative. I don’t want to think that we’re just second rate citizens with this. Um…that’s all. You don’t have to answer. Love your Tumblr. It’s one of the main ones I look at. Thanks for countless enjoyment!

— — —

(I’m responding on the submission and not the ask because the ask refused to post properly, I think it was too long for Tumblr’s fancy)

So I know you just asked for my thoughts and not a biblical interpretation lesson, but I didn’t spend 3 months writing an exegesis in college for me to never use those skills again, so buckle up for something of a long answer! (literally, this is almost 3 thousand words, so....sorry about that) *rubs hands together* The thing we need to take into consideration when reading the bible is Interpretation; any truly honest biblical scholar would tell you it is a mistake to take every word in the bible at its literal face value, ESPECIALLY since most of us are reading translations of scripture, not the original ancient hebrew/greek/aramaic/whatever else. So when interpreting scripture, we must consider these things:

Author (Who wrote it?)

Audience (Who was it written for?)

Context (What is written around it?)

So the verses you’re referencing are Ephesians 5:22-23, and in the NIV, they read as follows:

22 Wives, submit yourselves to your own husbands as you do to the Lord. 23 For the husband is the head of the wife as Christ is the head of the church, his body, of which he is the Savior. 24 Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit to their husbands in everything.

Isolated from author, audience, and context, they sound pretty sexist, don’t they? And male authority figures have used these verses as justification for the oppression of women for centuries, just as white men used the passage only a few verses away, Ephesians 6:5, as justification for the oppression and ownership of black people (Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ). So let’s look at each of the points above in regards to Ephesians 5 and 6. First, who wrote it? Sometimes that can be a tricky question to answer, but in this case, it’s actually very easy (though there is still a bit of fuzziness/debate). Traditionally, Ephesians is one of the Apostle Paul’s letters to the early church. Specifically, to the body of believers in Ephesus, a Greek city that was a part of the Roman Empire at the time. According to two different study bibles I have, the letter of Ephesians was not addressing any particular problem that the church in Ephesus had (as was often the case with Paul’s letters), but was meant as an encouragement of faith and to increase his readers’ understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ. So now what about the Context? Why are the verses at the end of chapter 5 and beginning of chapter 6 so damning to our modern sensibilities? To answer that, we must look at the passages both in context to the verses around them, and in historical and cultural context (which is where 1 & 2 come into play again). Going back to the beginning of chapter 4, which is subtitled “Unity in the Body of Christ” (and remember, these subtitles and groupings were come up with LONG after they were written; we grouped sections together in a way we thought was most logical, which honestly for a book as short as Ephesians I would argue is barely even necessary), we can see that the letter from chapter 4 onward is about living a Holy and Godly life. Chapter 4 urges us to be “completely humble and gentle, be patient, bearing with one another in love” and warns us against living “as the Gentiles* do, in the futility of their thinking.” *Gentiles in this case meaning not neccesarily all non-Jews, but non-believers. AKA, we should live like Jesus lived, WWJD and all that jazz. If the Holy Spirit is in our hearts and our relationship with God is at the forefront of our lives, then that should show clearly in our actions. The very first verse of chapter 5 reads “Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children and live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” Chapters 5 and 6 especially are meant to act as a sort of guide for how a follower of Christ should act. There’s some stuff about obscenity, greed, sexual impurity, 5:15 sums it up pretty well basically, “Be very careful, then, how you live- not as unwise but as wise,” and then we reach the all important verse. Ephesians 5:21, “Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ.” That’s a full sentence, just that there. Submit to one another. The following three sections are all subsections of this point: one for Wives submitting to Husbands, one for Children submitting to Parents, and one for Slaves submitting to Masters. But when looking at all of these, bad shepherds (ie, racist, sexist assholes) like to ignore that first bit, submit to one another, just as they like to ignore 5:28, which says “husbands ought to love their wives as their own bodies. He who loves his wife loves himself;” or they ignore 6:4 which says “Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord;” and they ignore 6:9, “Masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him.” I do highly encourage you to read chapters 4, 5, and 6 in full, or at least start at 4:17, which is where Paul starts talking about “Living as Children of Light,” because it makes the intent of these apparently damning verses much more clear. Paul is stating that as Christians, we should treat everyone around us with honor and respect. According to one of my study bibles, the grammar of the original Greek suggests that the “submission” involved in all three sections is intended to be mutual submission, and is to come from a filling of the Holy Spirit. However, to be quite frank, Paul still Lived In A Society. A highly structured, patriarchal society, in which all members of a household (women, children, slaves) were expected to submit to the patriarchal head of that household. Male children until they reached adulthood, Slaves until they were freed (remember that, while by no means a purely morally good thing, the system of Roman Slavery was VASTLY DIFFERENT from the Atlantic Slave Trade that men later used this passage to justify existing), and women, unfortunately, for their whole lives. In another one of his letters, what is now the book of Galatians, Paul says in chapter 3 verse 27-29 that “You are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. If you belong to Christ, then you are Abraham’s seed, and heirs according to the promise.” This would have been radical at the time. Paul is promising all people of all genders and classes that, in the eyes of God, they are Equal, One, and all “sons,” meaning that they all have a right to the Inheritance of the Father (remember, at this time and in this culture women did not get any inheritance, and younger sons got significantly less than the firstborn. Paul assures the believers that they ALL are equal receivers of the Promises of God). But this equality that Paul speaks of was, in his eyes, a spiritual equality. He was not particularly concerned with overthrowing the earthly patriarchal society that subjugated women and lower classes, but rather instructed all members of that society who also were Believers to submit equally to one another out of love and respect, for they were all Equal in God’s eyes and would be Equal in heaven. This is why he both tells women to submit to and obey their husbands, but also husbands to love, cherish, and care for their wives. Children, obey your parents, but Fathers, don’t be dicks to your kids. Slaves should obey their masters (slavery was much more like a job that you weren’t allowed to quit until your boss said so) but Masters shouldn’t abuse their slaves. There are Societal Authorities, and Paul is telling his readers “look you can’t just go around not respecting those Authorities, but also hey, if you’re the Authority? That’s not a free pass to be an asshole.” As one of my study bibles puts it, “Paul counseled all believers to submit to one another by choice…this kind of mutual submission preserves order and harmony in the family while it increases love and respect among family members.” Paul is basically saying “it’s better for everyone if we all get along, and remember that Christ had a servant’s heart, and intentionally lowered himself for us, so we should do the same for each other.” And while a patriarchal class system is still super sucky for like 80% of the people involved, at least it’s a whole lot more bearable if everyone involved is being a Nice, Good Member of that Society. You mentioned being worried about being treated like a “second rate citizen.” The fact of the matter is that when this was written, women were second rate citizens; that is the context in which Paul is writing. And while I firmly believe that that was wrong, in every sense of the word, Paul wasn’t especially concerned about challenging that aspect of society. Priority one was “Spread the Gospel” and Priority two was “Don’t Get Killed while Spreading the Gospel.” Speaking of Paul, let’s talk a little more about Saul of Tarsus, shall we? In all literary analysis, it is important to examine the author’s beliefs and what biases may have made their way into the work. And while we believe the bible to be a Holy Book, it can and should be subject to the same rules of literary analysis as non-religious texts. First, you must ask yourself, what do you believe about the bible? There are four general ways of looking at it (which are called Theories of Inspiration).

The bible is the Divine Word of God, dictated word for word across centuries directly to its human authors by God Himself.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. While they are writing in their own words, this Inspiration means that the bible is Wholly Perfect with no errors.

The bible is the Divine Word of God, written across centuries by men Inspired by the Holy Spirit. However, because they are imperfect, fallible men, there is a possibility of errors in the text, both in the account of events that happened and in the teaching therein.

The bible is a collection of accounts written by men, with no Divine Intervention from God. It is not Holy, God’s Word, or Infallible.

I was raised to believe theory 2, but now I personally believe theory 3. And since I’m the author of this analysis, it is through the lens and bias of theory 3 that I now present my next point: Paul was sexist. I don’t think he was maliciously so (see again, Galatians 3, and the statement in Ephesians 5 that men should honor, cherish, and care for their wives), but he was a product of his time who had ingrained ideas about women and their place in society. This does not A) mean he was right about how women should act OR B) mean that we should toss out everything he had to say, about women or otherwise, because he was Problematic. Most biblical authors were, in fact, Problematic. Either by our modern standards, due to the time in which they lived, OR by the standards of their own time, because God liked to use Imperfect People (we’re all imperfect, but He liked particularly imperfect people) in His plans. David was an adulterer and murderer. Paul happily sent dozens of Christians to their deaths. Peter was hotheaded and super prejudiced against Gentiles and Samaritans. And most of them were, in one way or another, sexist, racist, and homophobic. These biases then found their way, intentionally or not, into their writings, and then other racist, sexist, homophobic men used those writings to justify systemic oppression of anyone who was not like them. Oppression that is not Christlike. So where does that leave us, in our 21st century application of scripture to our daily lives? We must examine how it was to be read at the time (which we have done), and then see what we can apply from it to our own lives. For myself in my marriage, I look again to the original grammar of Ephesians 5, that indicates the submission is to be mutual. I “submit” to my husband, and he “submits” to me. In other words, our relationship is built on Trust, Clear Communication, and Respect for one another. Sometimes we have to compromise, and I have to put aside my own desires for his sake, or he must set aside his own desires for my sake. It is a willingness to listen to one another, to approach conflicts with an open mind, to consider each other’s feelings before we speak. It is an equal, mutual submission based on love for each other, which doesn’t contradict what Paul says at all. God created all people to be equal. Humans are stupid sometimes and try to insist that we know better, try to create hierarchies and use the bible to try and justify that, but that doesn’t mean those humans are right. If your church is trying to make you feel less than because of your gender, or if you date somebody who pushes TradWife rhetoric and tries to use Ephesians as their justification, then you Run, and feel justified in doing so. (Especially if they also try to use Paul’s words to tell you why you owe your partner sex; see again, Paul was not only sexist but also lived in a patriarchal time when women were second class citizens that had very specific expectations placed on them AND he wasn’t even in a relationship himself, forgive me if I take his advice on my sex life with a grain of salt. Without doing this whole process again, a good modern reading of “don’t deprive one another” is “don’t use sex as a weapon in your relationship/withhold it for bs reasons when you’re mad at each other, etc. Like all other relationship things, sex (or a lack thereof) with your spouse should be based on mutual trust, communication, and love, not petty arguments or the standards of others.)

Trust me, as an ace woman myself, I totally get the fear. I’ve felt it myself, in the past. But God’s intentions for you are not that you become a doormat or servant to a man. If a romantic relationship (or any other partnership) is part of His plan for you, then the bible clearly states, both in Ephesians and elsewhere, that it should be one built on Love and Trust, not Subjugation and Servitude.

I hope this helped you, and again, sorry it was so long XD. Have an amazing day! <3

[cockroachmotherfucker10]

PRIDEFALL UPDATE: real or fake?

What is Pridefall?

Operation Pridefall, also known as Project Pridefall or simply Pridefall, refers to an attack planned by /pol/ (a political discussion board on the anonymous website 4chan) for all of June, AKA Pride month. The original 4chan thread, which has since been deleted, was primarily focused on “redpilling,” i.e. spreading queerphobic propaganda to make people question the LGBTQ+ community. However, now that it has spread outside 4chan, there are threats of harassing, doxxing, and outing queer people (especially minors) on social media, spamming gore and rape videos in private messages and Pride tags, and even kidnapping, assaulting, or killing queer people in real life.

Specific targets include Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, and dating apps. The goal is to go after smaller accounts so the queerphobia isn’t lost in the comments.

Is Pridefall real?

Yes and no.

I searched “pridefall” on 4chan last night. Apparently any new threads on it are being deleted, and anytime someone mentions it, everyone calls them slurs and says no one is doing it.

However, Pridefall is gaining some traction on Instagram--I have seen it for myself. I don’t have TikTok or any dating apps, but I’ve heard that some people are spamming homophobia on TikTok. As for Twitter, I only looked briefly, but I saw some Pridefall accounts there, as well as a lot of warnings and blocklists from people who are worried about it.

I’ve also heard that there have been a few Reddit and Discord raids, and that there is an Operation Pridefall Discord server (someone who spied on them says they have been banned on Discord as well as a platform called Riot before, so very few people are left on the Discord server now).

What do you think, Lia?

This is not coming from 4chan. No one on 4chan is interested anymore.

Most likely, people outside of 4chan heard about it and decided to take matters into their own hands.

The original 4chan thread wanted to make Pridefall “normie-palatable” by avoiding Nazi imagery or other overt unpleasantness, but I have seen a LOT of both on Instagram. This reinforces my belief that 4chan isn’t doing this.

A lot of the people behind this are young, or at least unsophisticated. Most of the Pridefall accounts on Instagram engage in very childish trolling, and one of them said they were a minor. Some of the threats I’ve seen are so outlandish that I can only imagine they came from a fairly young person.

My guess? Most of these people are around 13-19.

There are also very few of them and some of them probably have multiple accounts. Anti-Pridefall accounts outnumber them by far.

However, on Instagram I’ve seen Pridefall accounts following each other and commenting on each other’s posts, so there may be a few groups working together.

A lot of this shit is going to get deleted. I know Instagram is working through reports very slowly right now because they have fewer people available due to COVID-19, but most of the worst accounts I saw last night were deleted by this morning. I saw some more accounts deleted today.

Most, if not all, of these Pridefallers are just trying to scare us. Because they’re probably quite young, there’s very few of them, their accounts keep getting deleted, and law enforcement can track online activity, there is no way they have the balls or resources needed to coordinate major attacks.

There is a very, very slight chance this could spill over into real life, but as long as you practice basic online safety, you will be fine.

That being said, if you are threatened or doxxed by a Pridefall account, PLEASE contact the police. Better safe than sorry.

I do think that the threat of being doxxed or outed is more real than the threat of being attacked. I have already seen one Pridefall account who posted a trans boy’s address on Instagram (he is okay, he posted recently) and another who posted someone else’s address.

There is little chance this will last throughout Pride month. Apparently the goal is for Pridefall to worsen until the end of June, but given that this is most likely just some vastly outnumbered teenage trolls who are bored in quarantine, I seriously doubt they’ll be able to stay interested for a whole month.

This might not be as big on Tumblr. Tumblr is a lot more anonymous than, say, Instagram, which will hopefully deter would-be doxxers. It’s also known to be a highly liberal and queer-friendly site, so any Pridefaller with half a brain cell should know that A) their content is sure to be outnumbered and reported (only us Tumblr users know how bad staff is at deleting questionable stuff), and B) anyone with the original goal of “redpilling” is sure to fail here. Plus, I only remember seeing few, if any, mentions of Tumblr on Pridefall planning threads.

Still, expect to see some Pridefall activity here. Unsurprisingly, not all of these Pridefallers have half a brain cell. Some of them will definitely be unable to resist the lure of a community as openly queer as Tumblr, and we’ve all seen or heard about doxxing, harassment, gore, Nazis, and queerphobes on here. Also, 4chan has historically had some beef with Tumblr, so young teenage boys who idolize 4chan may target us for that reason.

How can I stay safe?

If you have any social media accounts where you A) have posted identifying personal information, and B) are openly supportive of the LGBTQ+ community (especially if you’re queer yourself), put them on private for June. Any other accounts are probably fine to stay public.

If you need a private Tumblr, you can make a password-protected secondary account and only share the password with mutuals you trust.

It is probably okay to be openly queer on a private account (e.g. have pronouns/rainbow emojis in your Instagram bio), since a private account is not likely to be doxxed. But if you want to be extra careful, remove queer identifiers from anything that is publicly visible.

Use Pridefall blocklists. They’re all over Instagram and Twitter. I may repost some here.

Report any Pridefall accounts you see. This is VERY important because this is how we can actually get rid of Pridefall content.

DON’T RESPOND TO ANY PRIDEFALLERS WHO PERSONALLY INTERACT WITH YOU. I know it’s tempting to give a snarky reply, but if they message you, comment on your post, etc, just block them. Seriously, don’t feed the trolls. It's exactly what they want.

Make sure your password game is strong. Use a different password for every site (I know, I know, it sucks), and use passwordmeter.com to test their strength. Write them all down on a piece of paper.

Make sure your username game is strong. Don’t use the same username for multiple sites, and avoid putting personal information in your username, such as your name or birthday.

Do NOT open random links!! Pridefallers could message you links that will give you viruses or track your IP address.

Don’t accept DMs or follows from people you don’t know. Pridefall accounts don’t always look like Pridefall accounts. Some of them are undercover.

Use a VPN. This is probably a little overkill unless you’re particularly at risk of being doxxed, but it will hide your IP address.

Be careful who you interact with. A lot of queer people on Instagram are DMing Pridefall accounts or commenting on their posts, but this could make you a target. As helpful as anti-Pridefall accounts are, you might even be targeted for following those.

Be wary of Pride tags. Unfortunately, a lot of Pridefall accounts plan to infiltrate tags commonly used by queer creators during Pride month. Use discretion when looking for queer content.

Be safe IRL. Lock your doors, lock your windows, be aware of your surroundings, don’t walk alone in poorly lit places, know basic self-defense, etc. Again, I absolutely do not think people will be attacked in real life, but you should be doing this shit all the time, not just in June. Thanks to COVID-19, you’re safer inside anyway!!

Make yourself hard to dox. Even though I have a very unusual first name (it's not really Lia), I am extremely hard to find online. I just went into an incognito browser window and searched my first and last name in quotation marks, but I didn’t find myself until page 4 of Google (and that result wasn’t even posted by me). I’m only half as careful as I could be, but here’s some of the things I do:

-I never use a picture of myself as my profile pic, except for Facebook and Instagram, which are both on the highest privacy settings possible.

-If I post identifying information on a public account (my college, my age, etc), I use a pseudonym or my first name only.

-On Instagram, I only use my first name, and I used special characters to type it, so you won’t find me if you search my name.

-On Facebook, I only accept friend requests from people I know. Most, if not all, of my Instagram followers are IRL friends, friends of IRL friends, and trusted Internet friends.

-If I’m really being paranoid, I’ll make a brand-new email account to sign up for a site. That way, my accounts aren’t all linked through one email address.

-Before I post a picture online, I delete the EXIF data with verexif.com, since EXIF data can hold GPS coordinates.

🌈 Stay safe, everyone.

You will not be harmed. You will be okay. Like cockroaches, we are survivors, and we will get through this!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

-Mod Lia

[thefactsofthematter]

tell us about how spot and race’s lives turn out from ur recent fic! (also love ur writing keep up the good work!)

i’m glad u asked dear anon! (and tysm!!)

so i didn’t include any of this in the actual fic bc i wanted readers to draw their own conclusions about what happened, but here’s how i see things going down! it’s a little long since it’s pretty much an entire epilogue spanning their whole lives, so buckle in lol

(i really did try to put this under the cut but tumblr mobile isn’t cooperating and i don’t feel like turning my computer on rn. sorry folks.)

- race’s mental health is pretty rocky for a while immediately after the story ends— he gets a lot of people checking up on him, thinking breaking up with spot was one of his impulsive, manic decisions, and the fact that so many people are questioning his mental state sends him spiralling a little. the stress gets his symptoms to worsen (mania, more persistent and disturbing hallucinations/delusions), especially bad now that he lives alone, and he ends up checking himself into a psych ward after a few months of secretly struggling and pretending to be okay.

- this gets spot to worry immensely when he finds out: they’ve got enough mutual friends that they’re still in the same circles, and now that the initial hurt of the breakup is waning, he’s got a renewed but purely friendly love for race. he doesn’t quite feel ready to see him in person, but he sends flowers to the hospital with a very sweet note, to let race know he’s thinking about him <3

- in the longer term, race gets more stable, finishes his phd, and works his way back up to being more independent, but realizes that he doesn’t trust himself to live alone— he lives with crutchie for a while, and then meets albert through some mutual friends in his early 30s, and they start dating! they live their double-income-no-kids-not-married fantasy for a good while; neither of them are necessarily rich, but they’re stable enough to be able to travel lots and see the world. they’re not quite madly in love, but they make each other pretty happy, and they only separate (after almost a decade together) when albert gets a job offer somewhere across the world— race doesn’t want to move, but al wants to take the job, so they have a very amicable split with an agreement that race will come visit someday.

- in the meantime, spot never does land another long term relationship, but he adopts as a single parent, just like medda adopted him and jack. he raises three kids in a hipster little suburb just outside the city and does his very best— just like race had predicted, he’s an amazing dad. he doesn’t really worry about romance, perfectly content with his little family. he and race keep in touch— the common link usually being jack, as spot’s brother and race’s best friend, who invites them to all his family functions and whatnot. even while race is dating albert, spot isn’t particularly jealous, since he now sees race’s point about their very different ideas for the future much clearer. he’s happy where he’s at, and he’s glad race is happy doing his own thing. they still make very good friends, at the end of the day.

- BUT!!! it’s only when one of spot’s kids starts really struggling with mental health that sprace start growing a little closer— his sixteen year-old daughter is diagnosed with bipolar disorder, so spot’s immediate reaction is to call race up for some insight. race ends up being a really great mentor for her, sharing his coping strategies and giving her someone to relate to, so by consequence, he spends a lot more time with the conlons. spot’s kids are older now, his youngest just starting high school, so he’s finally able to step out of spending every waking minute focusing on being a dad— he’s got a little more time for his own adult relationships.

- cue a couple years of sprace very slowly falling back in love with each other but being too nervous to say it… until spot’s youngest finally asks “so is he, like, our stepdad now? he’s here every other day, and you look at him like you’ve got a crush.” this is enough of a kick in the ass to get him to actually talk to race, who confesses that if spot will have him, he’d really like to get back together. they do, and it’s finally right. they’re well into their forties, but race is at a point where settling into spot’s chiller life feels good, and spot is ready to start stepping back out of his comfort zone now that his kids are pretty much independent, so they can finally balance each other out the way they used to.

- they get married eventually!!! spot couldn’t bear to part with the ring from the first time around, so he re-proposes once they’ve been back together for a while (“my old-ass knees don’t appreciate me getting down like this, so you better say yes this time”) and they have a sweet little backyard wedding, mostly organized by spot’s kids. they’re in their fifties by then, but they’re even more in love than they were in college <333

[venhedish]

Ven’s Masterlist of SPN Fic

I write mostly pre-series and early seasons Big Feels™ Wincest fic. There’s a lot of angst and pining here, but plenty of love and devotion mixed in with the darkness.

I always deeply, deeply appreciate likes, kudos, comments, and reblogs!

Wincest Fic

Stand-Alone

Yesterday is a Ghost I Believe In ~4.1k, Teen, Pre-series, Epistolary, Multimedia, Experimental There's an old shoebox under Sam Winchester's bed. It's been there almost as long as he can remember. He doesn't look inside it very often, but when he does, he takes his time. A multimedia collection of letters, journal entries, pictures, and other ephemera from a life on the road. .

That Monster, Love ~2k, Teen, Pre-series, POV Outsider, POV John Winchester, John Finds Out, Angst “You think you’re doing your boys any favors, raisin’ ‘em like this?” .

To Cure My Lonesome Blood ~8.8k, Explicit, Pre-series, Pining Dean, Angst, Bittersweet Ending Dean’s been sick since before either of them was born. The disease is incurable, written into his blood – the same blood he shares with his brother. If he’s not careful, the fever will spread like a fire and consume them both. .

Like Sand, Like Water, Like Sunlight ~1.7k, Gen, Pre-series, Mutual Pining, Angst, Pre-Slash Sea birds circle overhead and Dean wishes he had a camera. Sam looks so young, all of twelve years old, and exhilarated. Dean wants to hold this image in the chambers of his heart, but his pulse just carries it along; time is cruel that way. .

The Space Between Sense and Memory ~4.8k, Teen, Pre-series through Season 1, 5-and-1 Things There are a hundred unwritten rules on all the acceptable ways brothers should touch each other. There are hardly any ways at all to break them. Or; five times they follow the rules and one time they don’t. .

Every Goodbye, all at Once ~900, Teen, Pre-series, Stanford Era, Pining Dean, Angst, Epistolary "Hey, It's Sam. If you're looking for my dad, you can reach him at 866-555-9352. If you're looking for me, leave a message." A series of voicemails Dean leaves at the number Sam left behind. .

Breathe You In (Choke You Down) ~6k, Explicit, Season 01, PWP, Scent Kink, Guilty Dean Winchester Once Sam was gone, Dean missed him in a way that was all-consuming, all the way down – so deep in his bones that he shook with loneliness some nights. And it was the familiar scent of his brother’s hair where it tangled warm against the pillows, his pulse beating under his skin and sending the fear of the hunt wafting off of him in waves that Dean struggled to hold onto the hardest. Dean really likes the way Sam smells..  .

Dawn is Coming (Open Your Eyes) ~5k, Explicit, Season 01, Hurt/Comfort, Getting Back Together In which Sam and Dean suffer new wounds and stitch old ones back together. There’s an awful storm, a dead monster, an injury, and a whole lot of feelings. .

You put the Magic in Me ~9.1k, Explicit, Season 02(ish), Sex Pollen, Porn with Plot, Casefic “This is the weirdest thing we’ve ever done for a case,” Dean says under his breath, leaning into Sam and scouting the crowd gathered around a dozen tables inside the little café. “Dude, relax,” Sam says back, eyebrows raising at his brother’s nervous energy. “I thought this would be, like, your thing.” He gestures vaguely to the women milling around inside. A long, vividly red banner hangs across the open french doors that lead into the space, emblazoned with the words The Oolong Tea Room Presents: Lonely Hearts Club Speed Dating! Feb 11-14th! Or; in which Sam and Dean learn a thing or two about chemistry. .

The Stars are not Wanted Now ~2k, Teen, Season 02, Episode Tag: s02e21 All Hell Breaks Loose, Angst, Death Rituals There was a body on the bed.  It had been there long enough that the slanting light of morning crept into the room like an unwelcome invader and washed the world in a dream-shade of palest blue.   But there were no dreams here; only death, only memory. The body on the bed was all that remained of Samuel Winchester, who had died in his brother’s arms the night before. .

Demi-Gods and Hungry Ghosts ~5.8k, Explicit, Season 03, Episode Tag: s03e11 Mystery Spot, Dark, Dub-con, Hurt No Comfort This dream-state of living on pause and rewind leads to some interesting avenues of thought that Sam doesn’t mean to travel, but after a certain number of unrelenting Tuesdays, they just become inevitable. If Dean dies every day—if his memories are wiped, or if they never happen at all—what could Sam get away with, if he wanted to? Could he dare to find out?  .

In Sanguine Vita Est   ~5.2k, Explicit, Season 04, Knifeplay, Dean’s Hell Trauma, Hurt/Comfort Everything was different now. Dean was here—back from the fucking dead—but he was a stranger in his own body. Scars gone, aches from broken bones that hadn’t set right vanished back into the void as if they’d never existed at all. He’d become a stranger to the whole world. He’d become a stranger to Sam. _ Dean asks Sam to help him heal after he returns from Hell. .

All Heartless Spectres, Happiness ~5.7k, Explicit, Season 06, Episode Tag: s06e06 You Can’t Handle the Truth, POV Outsider, Angst, Soulless Sam Lisa Braeden receives an email with the subject line, "You Deserve to Know." It contains a single video file and nothing else. .

The Rungs of Me be Under You ~1.6k, Teen, Gencest, Post-Bunker, 2nd Person POV, Queerplatonic Sam and Dean, Non-Sexual Kink What they share has never been easy to define. Why should this be any different?  .

Wincest Series The Top/Bottom Discourse Series (Ongoing) [Each story is canon compliant and listed chronologically, but they can all be read as standalone works.] This series was born originally from a silly meta post I made on Tumblr as a response to some very angry top/bottom discourse I was seeing about how only Sam could truly be A Top™, or how only Dean could truly be A Top™. I personally like to kink and let kink and not drag outdated gender politics into my fandom (Dean can't be a bottom because he's too masculine? Ice cold take, bro), so I wrote a filthy little tongue-in-cheek post about all the ways I think Sam and Dean have fucked each other over the years.

 I’m Thinking About Whatever You’re Thinking About ~5.1k, Explicit, Pre-series, PWP, Bratty Sam, Exhibitionism, Fear of Discovery Sam is such a brat, sometimes. .

 Shoot to Thrill ~6.7k, Explicit, Season 02, Porn with Plot, Hustling, Getting Back Together It's just like riding a bike. .

Burn Out The Night ~4.9k, Explicit, Season 08, Porn with Plot, Car Sex, Light BDSM, Fluff What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. .

Destiel Fic

Love Made a Martyr of Me ~500, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Past Sam/Dean, Angst Sam says yes in Detroit, and in the space of a single syllable, there's nothing left in Heaven or on Earth for Dean to love. Cas doesn't seem to care. .

The Sharp Teeth of the One You Love ~2k, Teen, Season 05, Endverse, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Pining “Quit bein’ a baby, Cas.” Dean’s hands were covered in blood, but they were steady as always while he worked to stitch Castiel back together. “I’m sorry,” Cas growled between gritted teeth. “I don’t exactly have a lot of experience feeling pain.” He hissed again when Dean slid the curved needle back through the eight-inch-long gash that ran deep and bloody down Cas’s bicep. Castiel learns something about what it means to be human. .

Wincestiel Fic

Temerate ~700, Teen, Season 05(ish), Past Sam/Dean, 2nd Person POV, First Time Your brother is sitting in the corner of the motel room. His big hands are worrying at each other; he squeezes them together, fingertips white from the pressure of his grip. He meets your eyes and his gaze is like a lightning strike. .

Dean/John Fic

Cruore ~1.1k, Mature, Pre-series, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Blood, Intrusive Thoughts Bites, Dean could deal with – claw marks and broken bones. But this- ... a bullet was a different kind of monster altogether. .

Supernatural RPF

Il Cielo in Una Stanza ~4.4k, Explicit, Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki, Getting Back Together, Prequel-Gate, Polyamory, Non-AU Jared Padalecki receives a present he wasn't expecting at all for his 39th birthday. . 

Other Supernatural Fic

Bad Things, Better Reasons ~2k, Explicit, Pre-series, Dean Does Sex Work, Angst, Brotherly Love. Dean does whatever it takes to keep the bills paid while John is gone. The kid waiting for him back at the motel room is all the justification he’ll ever need. .

No Was Her Name ~1.3k, Teen, Season 12, Dean/Mary, Light Angst, First Kiss Mary Winchester was alive. She was solid—made of skin and blood and bone—and she existed in the same world as Dean. It wasn’t a dream; she walked and talked and breathed. She ate, she slept, she wandered the halls of the bunker at odd hours. She was a ghost made flesh, and Dean was haunted by her presence. .

[emptymasks]

When are you planning to start your streams? Can anyone come?

Okay so I'm going to make this a stream FAQ/Q&A sort of post:

"When are you planning to start your streams?"

Soon!! I was waiting a bit to see how people responded to my last post about suggested times and dates. I'll be making a post soon that will list off all the dates and what musical we will be watching each week and I'll try and tag as many people who have shown interest in wanting to join.

"Can anyone come?"

Yes! You don't have to be someone I've spoken too before, you don't have to be someone who is mutuals with me or friends with me, you can be someone who literally just found my blog yesterday. Sure I would like it if you followed me, but that's also not a rule, the link will be public and anyone can join. You can send it to your friends or family who don't have Tumblr if they want to join, I know some of my Discord friends will be coming along as well as people from Tumblr. But it should go without saying if anyone behaves awfully I will ban you from the room, but I doubt any of you will. I will say as this is open to Tumblr there is a potential for minors to be in the chat so you know don't talk about explicit NSFW things.

Where will the streams be hosted, how can I join?

I host my streams through Kosmi and if you attended my birthday stream of Tanz Der Vampire then you're familiar with it. Kosmi can be watched on PC or Mobile, and it's free and you don't even have to make an account. It's also a website not a PC app so you don't have to worry about downloading anything (there is also an app version though if you would prefer to use that, but I've always just used the website). I would, however, recommend that you do make an account. Without an account you will show up as 'anonymous' in the chat box to the side of the video and if you want to chat and there's 10 different 'anonymous' people it can get confusing. I'd recommend you set up a username before the stream starts. The room will me marked 'private' which means only people with the link can enter, and not just anyone who's browsing Kosmi.

Do I have to take part in the chat?

No! There is no pressure to chat, and if you just want to lurk and stay silent and watch that is completely fine! If I get sucked into what we're watching I may forget about the chat anyway, ha. But the chat's just there if people want to comment on what's happening, react to things, hey maybe make friends I don't know, or just ask questions if you're confused on anything.

What if I'm late?

I'll likely start the video up to 10 minutes after the scheduled time for anyone who is just setting things up or slightly late, but I won't be hanging around for people for ages. Once the stream starts I will stop it in the intermission for 10 or so minutes for people to get snacks or drinks or toilet breaks. I'll get everyone to check in when they come back and once everyone seems to be back I'll start act 2, sorry in advance if I start act 2 and you're not back yet, it's hard to keep track of everyone if there's a fair amount of people. You can join in the stream at any time, the room will always be open and I'll be using the same room for all of the streams which means you can keep reusing the same link and the chat log from the previous nights will still be there. That also means you can peak in between streams so I'm trusting you all to not misbehave with the chat while the streams aren't running throughout the week. But yes you can still join in at any time during the stream, the room will not be closing once the video starts, I just won't be rewinding the video for you.

Kosmi is a really good website and I'd so recommend it! You can share videos in three different ways: screen sharing (but while screen-sharing internet browser keeps the volume, screen sharing programs does not) which I've used to stream Netflix shows with friends, from a URL like Youtube or Twitch or Vimeo, or directly from a file on your computer. Watch party is only one of three functions and while I've never clicked on the other two before there's a small range of games to play and console emulators.

Omg though while checking settings for the room, because I've just set it up, I realised you can also share music as well and I had the silly idea that I could have music running before the streams start for anyone who shows up early, you know like you have in cinema's before the trailers and adverts come on? (At least that's how it is in UK cinemas, they play music until the lights dim for adverts, then trailers, then lights go all the way off for the movie).

My TDV birthday stream went well and people came who I knew and some who I didn't and we all had fun! There is no pressure to talk, but if you want to everyone is normally very approachable and friendly.

[buckybeardreams]

Unwanted

Chapters: 11/11

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark

Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson (Marvel), Brock Rumlow, James "Bucky" Barnes, Clint Barton, Harley Keener

Additional Tags: Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Steve Rogers, Omega Tony Stark, Service Top, Dominant Bottom, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Virgin Steve Rogers, Brock Rumlow is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Romantic Soulmates, First Meetings, Angst with a Happy Ending, Sappy, Romantic Fluff, Awkwardness, Drinking to Cope, Self-Worth Issues, Insecure Tony Stark, Insecure Steve Rogers, Age Difference, Harley Keener is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Claiming, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Non-Explicit Sex, Light Dom/sub, Mutual Masturbation, Coming Untouched, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, Knotting

Series: Part 1 of Second Chances

Summary:

Steve is a soft Alpha and Tony is an in charge kind of Omega with no desire to find a mate. He doesn't want to find his soulmate and when he does meet Steve he's determined to stay away from him. 

That is until he realizes just how right they are for each other.

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Part 2 is now out and the first chapter can be read on tumblr or ao3.

Words: 1,406

"I can't believe we were both right." Tony shook his head. 

The baby was a boy with a light dusting of blond hair on his head and startling blue eyes that stared up at them all sparkling and full of wonder as he took in all of the new sights around him. 

"He's beautiful," Steve murmured. 

Tony hummed in agreement, pulling the baby closer to sniff his head and take in that baby scent that seems to cling to all young pups. They were still just staring at their baby in awe when he started to cry and Tony's nipples started to leak, wet spots forming on his shirt. 

"I think I'm gonna have to walk around shirtless for the next few years," Tony said with a sigh. 

Steve glanced at him in surprise as Tony passed the baby off to Steve and stripped off his shirt. 

"I have no complaints there, but you do realize he's only gonna stay a baby for like one maybe two years max." 

Tony gave him a look. 

"Don't question my parenting methods, Alpha. You're not the one who carried this thing in them for nine months and you didn't have to deal with him jumping on your bladder either. So I get to make all the decisions when it comes to how we're gonna raise him." 

"Yeah, but I'm gonna be the one staying home with him." 

"I know and I'm very grateful, but if you have any questions you can just call me." 

Steve nodded, because there was nothing else to say about it. If Tony said this was the way it was going to be, then this was the way it was going to be. 

"I'm gonna get hard if you keep bossing me around." 

"Good, we can get started on trying for the next one," Tony teased, taking the crying baby back and coaxing him to latch onto his nipple. 

Steve's eyes widened and he looked scared at the thought. 

"Another one? Already?" Steve squeaked. 

Tony just giggled. 

"I'm just kidding, Alpha. We'll wait until I stop breastfeeding this little guy and then we can try for another one. Until then, I'm going on the pill." 

Steve nodded. 

"Cool. That's, um, cool," Steve said awkwardly. "It's not like I'm against having another one. It's just- I'm still not sure what we're gonna do with this one." 

Tony smiled softly and kissed his cheek, still cradling Harley to his chest while he suckled at his nipple. 

"You're gonna be a great daddy, Steve," Tony promised.

Steve grinned at him and leaned down to kiss him. 

"And don't worry about not knowing what you're doing. I'm an Omega so I have the instincts for these kinds of things." 

"Yeah, but I'm not an Omega." 

"I know that, but you didn't know what you were doing when we first started fucking, but I taught you how to please me and I'll teach you how to do this too." 

Steve blushed bright red. 

"You said I did good!" Steve squeaked. 

"You did. You were eager to please and what you lacked in skill you made up for by being cute." 

"What I lacked?" Steve said, his ego clearly bruised. 

Tony rolled his eyes. 

"Yes, Steve. You were a virgin and the way we play goes against most all of your instincts, so it took some time for you to learn. There's nothing wrong with that. I'm a very experienced teacher and you learned quickly how to get me off, so no harm done." 

"Tony!" Steve squeaked. 

"What? Don't worry about it. You're much better now." 

Steve just scoffed and shook his head. 

"Yeah, whatever," Steve grumbled. "I'm gonna go start dinner." 

Tony sighed as he walked away, but his attention quickly turned to Harley. 

"As soon as you can hold your head up, I'm gonna let your daddy take you for a ride on the bike that you were named after," Tony cooed at him. 

The baby didn't respond of course, still happily suckling at Tony's flat chest, but he did look up at his mom like he was aware of what Tony was talking about. Tony smiled softly at him and brushed a finger over his cheek. 

"You're gonna be the most spoiled, loved, happiest baby in the world Harley. I promise," Tony murmured.

*****

Steve was still pouting when they went to bed that night, Harley curled up in between them. Tony really didn't think he would be so hurt by the comment, since in many ways Steve didn't seem like an Alpha. Sure, he was protective and he had a knot, but for the most part he acted more like an Omega, at least when it was just the two of them. 

Tony wasn't stupid though. He knew he had upset him and he sighed when Steve kept peering at him through his lashes, a pout on his lips, looking away anytime Tony looked his way. 

"Steve," Tony groaned, scooping Harley up and gently laying him back down so he was now sleeping by the wall instead of in between them. 

They had pushed the bed up against the wall, because Tony had read that was the safest way to co-sleep. 

"Alpha. My pretty, pretty, Alpha. I love you so much, you know that right?" 

Steve didn't respond, he just bit his lip and fidgeted with the sheets. Tony groaned again and pushed him flat on his back, climbing on top of him. 

"Steve, look at me," Tony ordered, knowing that Steve wouldn't disobey him. 

He smirked when Steve's eyes snapped up to meet his instinctually. 

"There you go, pretty Alpha. Such a good boy you are, Alpha," Tony purred. "I'm sorry that I upset you, but you don't get to just pout about it. If there's something wrong you have to tell me. You don't get to keep things from me, Alpha, because you're mine. You understand?" 

Steve bit his lip, his eyes darting away from Tony's, but returning when Tony growled softly in that way that wasn't quite a growl but still managed to come off as a warning. 

"Yes, sir. I understand." 

"Good. You're so good for me, Alpha. I didn't mean to upset you and I shouldn't have teased you like that. It was mean. Can you forgive me?" 

Steve whimpered, pouting. 

"I'm still an Alpha, you know. I know that I'm not like other Alphas, but I still have pride, Tony." 

"Aw, I know you do and I like that you're not like other Alphas. I won't do it again, okay?" 

Steve chewed on his lip for a moment, considering something.

"Um, Tony?" 

"Hm?" 

"Do you think you could maybe do it again, but maybe while we're, you know, mating?" 

Tony raised his brow at him. 

"Really? You want me to humiliate you, Alpha?" 

Steve licked his lips nervously, nodding. His cheeks were bright red, but Tony could feel his dick hardening. 

"Maybe just a little?" 

Tony chuckled and kissed him. 

"Yeah, I could do that, but not now. Sam and Brock are watching Harley this Friday and I'll take you apart then, okay, baby?" 

Steve whined, his hips rocking up. 

"Please, sir." 

"Shh, not now," Tony murmured. "Don't wake the baby or I'll be punishing you on Friday." 

Steve whined again, but he wrapped his arms around Tony when he slipped off of him and pressed back until his ass was snug against the erection in Steve's sweats. Steve squirmed and Tony smirked, shifting slightly just to hear him whine again, the sound muffled as he ducked to hide his head in Tony's neck. 

"I love you, Alpha," Tony teased, his voice sugary sweet.

"I hate you," Steve mumbled into his neck and Tony wriggled his hips just to punish him. 

"Be good, Alpha, or I'll make you regret it." 

Steve sucked at his neck, his hips rutting forward at the threat. 

"I love you, Tony. My pretty Omega. I don't know how I got so lucky." 

"I don't know how you got so lucky either. I'm a catch," Tony teased. 

Steve rolled his eyes affectionately and kissed Tony's cheek. 

"You really are." 

Tony smiled softly, a light blush on his cheek. His eyes landed on their baby in his sleep sack, laying on top of their thin covers. He doesn't know how he got to be so lucky as to end up with a perfect mate and a perfect pup.

[starker1975]

Hello again

Not everyone who sees this will even know who the heck I am, lmao, but that’s fine. Maybe you can appreciate this message anyway.

First, I just want to say hi! It’s been too long, and I am eager to make up for lost time however I can.

Second, I’m pleased to announce that I’ve returned to both AO3 and Tumblr. I’m going to be slowly re-uploading all of the stories I deleted and reblogging my old moodboards as I track them down. The ones I cannot find will probably be re-uploaded as well.

Third, and most importantly, I want to apologize. I know I left a lot of people hanging when I disappeared with no explanation. Friends, mutuals, and acquaintances. I know I worried a lot of them, too. For others, maybe it wasn’t that deep, but just a case of finding my stories on rec lists with broken links or going to ao3 to reread a story and having it be gone. I know there are a couple of people who started their blogs because of my encouragement, and it must have been frustrating to do that only for me to back out and void my advice. There’s several scenarios and dynamics I could list, but it all leads to the same thing: I’m sorry.

All I can say is that at that point in my life, I was overcome with depression, and I thought getting away from everything and everyone was my only option. I genuinely thought cutting and running was going to solve my problems, but only a few months after I deleted all of my accounts and fics (some dating back to 2013 which really sucks tbh), I realized I had made the wrong choice. Leaving solved nothing, and I learned that the hard way.

I can’t get any of the comments or the message threads back, and I’ve missed out on nearly two years of experiences with friends and mutuals, and that’s a consequence I have to accept. It’s also a consequence I’ve inflicted on others. I want to call it selfish, but a few supportive people I’ve been in contact with have assured me it wasn’t. I don’t really know what I think, but I still feel sorry. Guilty too, I admit.

I wanted to come back sooner, and I struggled with this decision for over a year and have talked so many friends’ ears off about it. Mostly what’s kept me from coming back was fear. I thought I was going to be accused of being rude and cruel, and ostracized or something. Maybe that’s a bit conceited to even say because who’s to say anyone even cares? Idk lmao. But, in my opinion, what I did and how I did it wasn’t cool. All that being said, I decided to take a risk and do a “soft return” on AO3, and literally within a few minutes of posting a story I was welcomed back SO WARMLY I wanted to cry. Nobody was mad at me, and nobody was anything but understanding. I am so thankful I can’t even put it into words. I have been so worried about coming back, and I received so many comments that basically told me that it was ridiculous to even consider that I wouldn’t be accepted back.

Thank you for being so amazing, everyone. It has made coming back feel like coming home. I appreciate your understanding and compassion so much that I feel happier and more positive and more alive than I have in a very long time. Seriously. On the other hand of that, there are probably a few people who don’t understand and don’t forgive me, and I accept that too. If I could go back in time, I wouldn’t have left. I don’t want to specifically reach out to anyone in case they’re not interested, but consider this post me saying I’m open to hearing from anybody who wants me to hear from them.

Lots of love.

I hope you’re all doing well, and Happy Holidays!!!

xx

[ramen-rambles]

Quid Pro Quo

Pairing: Kirishima Eijirou x Reader

Warnings: 18+, mutual masturbation, suggestive texts 

Word Count: 2.7K

Summary: From being a total stranger you met on a dead Discord server, to literally becoming one of your best friends — Kirishima was one of the most amazing things to ever happen in your life. But what happens when you accidentally screenshot his nudes?!

A/N: My first BNHarem server collab! I was really close to naming this fic Penis Pals, if I’m being honest LOL It’s a lot shorter than I wanted but I hope I did my baby justice. Thank you to my fellow Bakugou Fanclub members for hyping me up and helping me edit this piece. I literally couldn’t have done it without you guys, ILYSM! Read all the other amazing fics in this collab, here.

Taglist: @lady-bakuhoe @bratwritings @redbeanteax

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

Ever since you were in high school, you had always looked up to Crimson Riot — a pro hero who’s strong, manly, and fearless. I mean, who wouldn’t like him? Now that you were in college, there have been many other heroes worthy of being called the best, but Crimson Riot was still going to be Number 1 in your eyes. So, to pay homage to your all time favorite hero, you decided to join a Crimson Riot Discord server. 

You had started looking for any server invites through all platforms of social media. Google, Twitter, Tumblr, but nothing came up. You had started to lose hope, until you stumbled upon a very old server link on an equally old Reddit thread. You looked at the date it was posted and it seemed to have been made all the way back when you were in high school. You clicked on the link hesitantly, definitely not expecting it to work. However, much to your surprise, the link brought you straight to the server! 

“Finally! Something that actually fucking worked!” You thought to yourself, after hours of scrolling though numerous pages of the internet. 

You were a bit hesitant at first, not really knowing what to expect. Were people going to think you were weird for being such a nerd? What if people thought you were annoying? Or worse, what if no one liked you? 

But that didn’t seem to be much of a problem… Considering that the server was rather dead. 

You clicked through the channels — #general, #merch, #photos, #announcements; the last time anyone really said anything was nearly six months ago. “God dammit.” You should have known. All you wanted was a place to fangirl over Crimson Riot, was that too much to ask for?! You got all your hopes up, just for it to all come crashing down. Feeling a bit dejected, it seemed like you had no choice but to leave the server. Not like there was much of a point in staying anyways. 

But then you saw a notification pop up on your screen.

RED RIOT [Today at 7:56 PM] 

@Y/N Hey! How are you doing? I’m the admin for this Crimson Riot Discord. The name’s Kirishima. It’s nice to see a fresh face here :^) 

Y/N [Today at 7:56 PM] 

Oh hi! I’m doing good! I found your discord link on a really old Reddit thread so forgive me for asking but… Is this server still active? I was scrolling through the channels and everything seemed kind of dead tbh LOL

RED RIOT [Today at 7:57 PM]

Well, if I’m being honest, it’s fucking dead LMAO 

Y/N [Today at 7:57 PM]

F

RED RIOT [Today at 7:58 PM]

It used to be pretty active before but people just kind of... stopped. I made this server back when I was in high school because I just LOVED Crimson Riot so much, ya know? He was the one person I really looked up to. Anyways, how did you even find this link? You must have looked real hard LOL

Y/N [Today at 7:58 PM]

HAHA I did, actually! Took me for-fucking-ever to find a server link that actually worked :( I’ve looked up to him since I was a kid too and so I really just wanted a place to express my gratitude for the role he played in my life. Sorry LOL I’m getting cheesy 

RED RIOT [Today at 7:59 PM]

Well Y/N, I’m glad you found this server! You sound like a really great person and I’d love nothing more than to talk to you about our shared love for Crimson Riot, but this server is whack as fuck. Are you down to move to DMs instead?

Y/N [Today at 8:01 PM]

Fuck it. Why not? 

You and Kirishima had been talking for a while now. Ever since you came across his Crimson Riot server, you two would talk almost every single day. You learned that he actually lived near you too. Call it fate. Exchanging phone numbers, following each other on social media, starting Snapchat streaks, meeting up with each other — the chemistry between you two made it seem like you’ve known each other your entire lives. The both of you had practically become best friends. 

To you, maybe it felt a little bit more than just friends. 

Currently, you were mindlessly scrolling through your Twitter feed when you saw that you had received a Snapchat notification, from, you guessed it. Kirishima. You were expecting it to just be a bland streak of his room or something but you saw something that made your fucking jaw drop.

A picture of Kirishima in a tight fitting tank top and a very noticeable bulge that was covered by a pair of dark grey sweatpants. 

You felt your cheeks heat up, a red blush painting across your entire face. In a state of panic, you fumbled the phone in your hands and in the process you had heard a very audible click. You fucking screenshotted his snap.

Fuck. 

You quickly went into your messages and texted him to try and explain yourself. 

[Y/N]

WAIT SHIT. KIRISHIMA. I DIDN’T MEAN TO SCREENSHOT THAT. IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. I SWEAR 

Replying almost immediately, you anxiously waited for what Kirishima had to say about your little mishap. You were seriously hoping that he was just going to let it go and you could both just act like nothing happened.

[Kirishima] 

Wow, I didn’t think you’d be the type to screenshot people’s snaps like that, Y/N :( 

[Y/N]

YOU DIPSHIT. I SAID IT WAS AN ACCIDENT. AND WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME SHIT LIKE THAT HUH?!

[Kirishima]

You telling me you didn’t like what you saw? 

[Y/N]

Okay, fine, you looked good, SUE ME. Is that what you wanted to hear?

[Kirishima] 

It’s only fair you send me one back, don’t you think?

You stared at your phone. What the actual fuck. Was Kirishima asking you to send him a fucking nude? You knew it shouldn’t have, but the thought of Kirishima wanting to see your body turned you on. A small shiver running down your spine at the possibility that he liked you in return. 

[Y/N]

Excuse me, sir. I am NOT sending you a nude. 

[Kirishima]

I didn’t ask for a nude, all I said was that you return the favor. Quid pro quo, ya know? 

[Y/N]

Using big words like ‘quid pro quo’, smh. Since when did you become such a politician? 

[Kirishima]

But, if you want to send a nude, who am I to say no? ;)

[Y/N]

Fucking fine. If I show you one, will you shut up?

[Kirishima]

Depends.

[Y/N]

On what, exactly?

[Kirishima] 

On how good it is

Your eyes narrowed at his response. What does he even mean by that, ‘how good it is’? He should be grateful that you even considered sending him one! Based on your replies, it seemed like you were pissed, but in reality, your heart beat faster with every passing minute. You were never the type of girl to send nudes to anyone, but for Kirishima, you were willing to make a small exception. 

You got up from your bed and rummaged through your closet, looking for something that was a bit more provocative. You picked out a red lace bodysuit that hugged your curves and cupped your perky breasts. Sitting in front of your mirror, you touched up your makeup and fixed your hair, checking yourself out one last time before you started taking pictures. You opened up Snapchat and tried multiple poses, making sure the camera captured your sultriness and how good your tits looked. To mock his teasing from earlier you captioned the photo, “Quid pro quo, my ass.” before hitting the ‘send’ button. 

[Y/N] 

Was that good enough for you? 

You heard no response from him for a good five minutes. You started worrying. “Shit. Was that too much? Did I push it too far?” You chewed on the inside of your lip, anxiously waiting for any sort of reaction. 

And then, your screen lit up again. Another Snapchat notification from Kirishima. But this time, it was way more revealing. He had sent you a picture of him palming his erection, and all it said was, “You’re not even here, and look what you did to me :(“ 

Feeling cocky and with a sudden burst of confidence, you cheekily replied, “Why don’t you come here then?” 

In all honesty, Kirishima didn’t live that far from you. You two were only 15 minutes away from each other, meaning that he frequented your apartment whenever he felt like it. He came over a million times in the past, but this time was different. Very different, in fact. Anticipation was building at the pit of your stomach, but so was a familiar heat that began pooling in the middle of your underwear. 

You tried denying your feelings for Kirishima but you couldn’t help it! Everything about him was perfect. His personality, his humor, his voice, his face, his body… You could go on and on about all the things you loved about Kirishima. 

You would have been lying to yourself if you said that you’ve never thought about him with your hands in between your thighs. Thinking about his massive cock fucking your tight pussy, his fingers rubbing your clit in all the right places, or the way his tongue would feel sucking on your hardened nipples. 

You’d always wonder if he ever felt the same way but he didn’t really seem like he was. 

That was, until tonight. 

You stared at the clock on your wall and saw that 10 minutes had passed, a loud knock on your door making you wake up from the dream like trance you seemed to be trapped in. You quickly turned the doorknob, letting Kirishima inside of your apartment. 

Without saying a word, he pushed your back against the wall and began to roughly grab the side of your face. He captured your lips with his, meeting his kiss with the same aggressiveness, making your head spin at how good it felt to finally get a taste of him.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited for us to do this?” He panted, moving down to place sloppy kisses against the crook of your neck, leaving sharp bite marks and dark bruises littered all over your pretty skin.  

“Haaaa, that should be my line” you moaned, “You know how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you?” You whispered teasingly, biting the soft flesh of his earlobes. “How many times I wished it was your fingers inside of me instead?” You trailed your fingers down to his, intertwining them with one another before you dragged him into your bedroom. 

You pushed him down onto the mattress, gently getting on top of him and straddling his waist. Grabbing his hands, you placed them on top of your tits, giving them a rough squeeze before you began grinding your wet heat against his clothed cock. 

”Fuck, Y/N, are you sure?” He groaned, “As much as I want this, I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with —“ 

“Eiji, shut up. If I didn’t want this, would I be this wet for you?” You slipped your panties off to the side, two of your fingers dipping into your cunt, showing off the slick that stringed in between your digits. “Here, see for yourself.” You brought your coated fingers up to his mouth, making him suck it until not a drop was left. 

“Shit, you taste so fucking good,” He smirked, “Why don’t you show me how you touch yourself, princess?” 

You slowly made your way off of him, leaning back to position your body against the plush sheets. Slowly spreading your legs, you made sure he got a good view, your pussy practically dripping from how aroused you had become. You snaked your hands down back against your thighs, fingers finding its way onto your throbbing clit. Kirishima was sitting in front of you, all of his clothes still on.

That didn’t seem very fair, now did it? 

“Stroke your cock for me, Eijirou. Quid pro quo, right?” You said wickedly. You stood up quickly to remove the rest of your lingerie, Eijirou’s eyes glued to your body, watching your every move as you moved your hands back to their previous position. 

Kirishima let out a small laugh before he finally stripped himself of his clothing, pulling down his boxers to reveal his impressive length that was already oozing precum. “Is this what you wanted to see?” You nodded desperately. 

“You wanted to see me jerk off while I watch you touch that pretty pussy of yours?” Kirishima began moving his hand against his girth, gathering spit in his mouth before letting it drip onto the head. Lubricating his cock with a mix of precum and spit, he slowly started moving up and down his length. Matching your rhythm, as he watched intensely at the fingers that were still stuffed inside of your cunt. 

Soft moans started escaping your plush lips, the collective sound of small whines, and frantic gasps beginning to fill the room. “Fuck, Eiji. You look so hot stroking your cock like that. Do you imagine that it was my pussy, instead?” You say, panting intensely. 

“Fuuuuck. I’m gonna pound your tight little cunt so hard that you’re not going to be able to walk for days.” He sped up his pace, you quickly following suit. Your fingers pumping vigorously, you continued to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. 

You were getting closer and closer to the orgasm you craved so much, and the look that Kirishima had on his face indicated that he was too. Your cunt clenched tightly around your digits while Kirishima’s fist held a vice grip on his cock. You had been waiting for this moment for so long, the intensity of your orgasm was surely going to rip through you like a plundering tidal wave.

 “A-ah, Eijirou! I’m so fucking close for you.” Your eyes squeezed shut as you felt yourself cum all over your fingers, your arousal gushing onto the bed sheets and covering the inside of your thighs. 

Kirishima quickened his strokes, the sight of your pleasure the catalyst for his own release as he continued to jack hammer his cock at an animalistic pace. “Please, baby, cum for me, I wanna see you cum all over yourself.” You whined, watching closely as you patiently waited for him to reach his end. Your filthy words were the last push he needed. 

“F-fuck Y/N! I love you so fucking much” he groaned loudly. A few more pumps, and ropes of his cum started painting his chest white, covering his sweaty body, as the remnants of both your orgasms stained the bed. 

You both looked at each other with half lidded eyes, still trying to come down from your intense highs. Breathing heavily, you looked at him greedily and whispered, “You know, I’ve always wondered how good it would feel to fuck myself on your cock.” 

“Well, I did say that I’d pound your cunt so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk for days...” Kirishima cooed as he ran his fingers along your exposed thigh,

“I’d be more than happy to show you, Princess.” 

♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。. ♡ ⌒*ﾟ.❉・゜・。.

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Charles Smith x Female Readee

Word Count: 3222

Summary: Love is in the air around camp, but has Cupid's arrow somehow missed you and Charles?

Notes: The fluffiest of fluff, Reader POV / Charles POV

This @rdr-secret-cupid gift is for one of my favourite people - @12timetraveler. My sincere apologies for this Valentine's / birthday present being so late, but hopefully it's well worth the wait 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

Cupid's Arrow

Reader's POV

14th Feb 1899

You looked around to see Dutch sitting in his tent, whispering sweet nothings to Miss O'Shea while Sean was trying his hardest to win over Karen, whose icy demeanour was starting to thaw with each passing drink he was plying her with. Hell, even John had had a little too much to drink and summoned the courage to pick a small posy of flowers and present them to Abigail as a small Valentine's gift. 

You liked seeing the camp happy like this, all relaxed in each other's company; the likes of Javier and Tilly sitting next to each other as the former strummed on his guitar and filled the air with a sweet melody, or young Mary-Beth, enjoying the latest romance novel she acquired, only to tear her eyes away from the page to gaze lovingly towards an oblivious Arthur before continuing her story.

And while Micah's grumbling about it "not bein' right, someone like him talkin' to a fiiinnnne woman like her," as he watched young Lenny saying something to make Jenny giggle from across the way, was enough to for everybody to tell him to shut up, it certainly wasn't enough to dampen the mood around the place.

It was even nice to see Miss Grimshaw laugh and smile as she joined the older camp members in their reminiscences about previous Valentine's days with their own past loves, soon followed by raucous singing of filthy songs but as you took your makeshift seat of a crate at the poker table, you couldn’t but help feel Cupid’s arrow had struck everyone and somehow bypassed you. 

You had secretly hoped that Charles would have joined in with the party, but the minute Dutch wound up his gramophone Charles had disappeared into the woods to take his position on guard duty.

While you'd taken many opportunities to try to make conversation and try to get to know him better over the last few months, you still found him to be a man of few words - but you liked that about him. The camp was full enough of loud-mouthed characters like Sean and Uncle that any moment you found yourself sitting in a comfortable silence with Mr. Smith was bliss.

As the night drew on and more and more alcohol was heartly consumed by all, you felt your eyes growing heavy and couldn’t summon the energy to sing along with the lyrics of “The Louisville Maid”.

   "Well as fun as this is, I'm gonna call it a night," you announced to your campmates, knowing full well that nobody was really listening. You sighed as they were caught up in their merriment and headed towards your tent… only to walk straight into Charles.

   "Whoa, careful there," he told you, giving you a small smile as he placed those big, strong hands of his upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot.

Your face burned as you felt your face grow redder and with each passing second as you enjoyed his gentle but firm touch, causing you to look away to avoid staring into those beautiful, deep brown eyes of his. You hoped that he thought your flushed appearance was a result of all the alcohol running through your veins and not the thought currently running  through your mind; what it would be like if he suddenly dipped and kissed you with a fervent passion?

   "Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

    "I'm okay, thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" Your brow furrowed as you tried to rack your brain. Had you arranged to go on a job and completely forgot? Charles watched you, with a confused look. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?" 

   "Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment, "I can't believe you remembered."

   "Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, making you weak at the knees.

He cleared his throat and moved his hand away. "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams." 

You watched him walk to his tent, before heading to your own. Still smiling to yourself, you drew the flaps shut and fell on the cot, relieving that brief moment you just had with Charles over and over as you closed your eyes and let sleep wash over you.

15th Feb 1899

As the sun beamed through the gaps of your tent, you woke up to a very different camp atmosphere compared to the night before. It was eerily quiet; with everybody still in bed, sleeping off the hangovers they'd given themselves at the party.

Deciding to make the most of having a quiet camp all to yourself, you sat yourself up and stretched - your muscles and joints aching in a way that made you laugh. Another year older today and your body was certainly reminding you of that fact with all the aches and pains you suddenly started feeling. 

A part of you doubted anybody else would be able to remember that today was your birthday but you smiled as you saw Mary-Beth hadn't forgotten; she'd wrapped a romance novel with one of her ribbons and left it on your trunk. Next to it was a little handwritten note from her, wishing you a very happy birthday and how "the way the heroine in this story reminds me of how you act around Charles, maybe if you read it you'll end up with your true love too. x"

You playfully rolled your eyes; ever the romantic, Mary-Beth had seen you gazing at Charles one day and decided you were destined to be together.

Pulling on some fresh clothes, you stepped outside and made your way towards the coffee pot, presuming nobody would have thought to wash it out and prepare it ready for the morning. Yet, to your surprise, you lifted it up to find it freshly brewed and still piping hot.

   “I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking behind you carrying some logs for the campfire.

   “I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” you laughed, pouring yourself a cup. “You want one?” you asked, offering Charles the filled mug currently in your hand.

   “I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up.” 

   “Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done," you giggled knowing from previous experience how badly Susan seemed to suffer from next morning hangovers.

He carefully placed the chopped wood next to the campfire before turning his attention back to you. "Oh I bet," he grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

   "Oh?" Curiosity had gotten the best of you and you were intrigued to know what he was thinking.

   "I saw supplies were running low and was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," rushing his words out before casting his eyes to the ground. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

   "What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" you teased. 

   "That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company." 

You stood gobsmacked as he turned away from you, quickly making his way over to Taima, pulling something from her saddle.

   "I… I'd like to spend time with you too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." You hung your head in disappointment, mentally kicking yourself that this could be your one chance to be alone with the man you'd admired for all these months - and you've lost it because you never took the time to invest in decent hunting equipment.

   "I can help you with that," Charles told you, pulling out an ornate looking bow and handing it to you. "I made it… for your birthday."

   "For me?" Shocked by his act of kindness, you traced your fingers over each of the detail engravings that ran along each of the limbs, tears starting to cloud your vision. "This is beautiful, but are you sure you mean to give this to me?"

   "Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” A sudden flash of fear crossed Charles’ eyes as he realised what he had just said, his body tensing.

   "You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek, his body relaxing as he realised he hadn't made a mistake in telling you.

   "It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." You gently thumbed his cheek, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?" You suggested as you signaled for Charles to see what you could see. 

Stood behind him was a small audience of John and Mary-Beth, both of whom were grinning over to you both. 

Charles playfully rolled his eyes and walked  you away from their gaze. 

   "Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

   "Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

   "Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

    "What's so funny?" Charles asked, trying to read your expression.

   "Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all."

Charles' POV

14th Feb 1899

   “I’ll take over here if you want,” John grumbled, clutching his face as he approached where Charles was currently taking up guard duty in the wooded area on the outskirts of camp. “I reckon my Valentine's night is as good as over.”

Charles turned to face his campmate, the moonlight showing a fresh red looking handprint across John's cheek. "You blew it with Abigail then?"

   "Yep, I pushed my luck just a little too much," John chuckled lightly, "But I'm sure I'll  survive. Go on, you go enjoy yourself… I saw [y/n] looking all lonesome up there, she could probably do with some company."

John waggled his eyebrows as Charles pretended to scowl; alcohol had given him loose lips one night and he had ended up confiding in Arthur and John about his feelings about the camp lady he'd taken a shine to. But he couldn’t hold the expression for long as a smile crept over his lips he thought about you.

   "I'll probably just get some shut-eye instead, but I have been busy making this for her." He lifted up a beautiful bow that was resting against a nearby trunk. "It's her birthday tomorrow and she mentioned once she'd be interested in learning to hunt properly."

   "You're a big old softie, ain't you Charles Smith?" John chuckled. "Well, I'm sure she'll appreciate the thought."

   “Don’t you go ruining my reputation, John,” he laughed, making his way to the clearing where all the gang's horses grazed peacefully.

Taima looked up, nickering as she saw her owner nearby.

   “Just a passing visit for now girl, but we can go out on a ride tomorrow,” he whispered to her, stroking her neck as she nuzzled against him. “In the meantime, I want you to keep this safe for me.” Charles lifted his saddle onto the hitching post that Taima was attached to, and carefully placed the bow into the holster on it. She watched her owner with curiosity, her ears pricking up as heard Charles rummaging in his saddlebag to retrieve an apple to reward his trusted Appaloosa for her loyalty. 

The music was still playing as he walked back into camp, only this time it was Pearson’s accordion and Uncle’s banjo that filled the air as Miss Grimshaw sang a bawdy song. It was clear that the party wasn't ending anytime soon, but that wasn't going to stop Charles from trying to get some sleep. Heading towards his tent, he found himself looking around for a quick glance of his heart's desire, only for you to crash straight into him.

   "Whoa, careful there," he told you, gently placing his hands upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot. He could have swore he felt a jolt of electricity flowing through his veins as his skin touched yours.

   "Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

    "I'm okay thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" A flash of confusion crossed your face and Charles began to doubt himself. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?" 

   "Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment. "I can't believe you remembered."

   "Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, before catching himself and moving his hand away.

Not really wanting the moment to be over but knowing he must tear himself away lest he stay admiring you all night, he cleared his throat. 

   "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams." 

Making the short walk back to his own tent,  his heart soared as he thought back over your reaction to him remembering your birthday. Now he couldn’t wait to see how you would react to your present.

Settling on his bed roll, he watched you draw your tent closed before allowing himself finally sleep and dream of you.

Charles found himself waking at the crack of dawn, just as the last few stragglers were stumbling towards their bedrolls . Realising he could effectively have the tranquillity of camp to himself,  he gladly jumped up and set about getting ready for a new day.

Firstly he made his way over to Pearson’s wagon to grab a few coffee beans and started brewing a fresh pot. Noticing the meat supplies were running dangerously low, Charles made a mental note to go out hunting later and wondered if this could be the ideal opportunity to ask the birthday girl to join him.

While he waited for that certain someone to wake up, he had already  stoked the fires back to life and disposed of the empty bottles that were scattered all around camp before finally enjoying a short break with a fresh cup of coffee.

It wasn't until he had made a start on chopping wood he had heard footsteps behind him and smiled to himself as he looked over to see [y/n] making her way over to the coffee pot.

   “I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking up to her with an armful of logs for the campfire.

   “I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” she laughed in that sweet way that made Charles’ feel all warm inside as she poured a cup. “You want one?” asking as she offered the mug in her hand towards him.

   “I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up," he explained, walking over towards where the chopped wood was to be stored.

   “Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done,"

Charles chuckled as he carefully placed the firewood down before realising this was his chance and turned his attention back to you.

   "Oh I bet," grinning with a twinkle in his eyes. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

   "Oh?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity.

He had noticed in the past that each time you asked a question about something that had piqued your interest, you would often tilt your head in this way and found it utterly adorable.

   "I was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," Charles rushed his words out before looking away bashfully. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

   "What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" she smirked, and he felt his insides flip-flop. She was so damn beautiful.

   "That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company," he told her, quickly turning to go fetch the bow from Taima’s saddle.

    "I… I'd like to enjoy your company too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." She lowered her head in what seemed to be disappointment.

   "I can help you with that," Charles told her, carefully placing the bow in her hands. "I made it….for your birthday."

   "For me?" He watched as she traced her fingers over the engravings he spent so much time on, hoping the tears brimming in her eyes were because she was overjoyed. "This is beautiful… but are you sure it's for me?"

   "Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” He kicked himself inwardly for saying it aloud, 

   "You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek. The feeling of embarrassment replaced by one feeling like he could soar into the sky right now.

   "It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." Gently thumbing his cheek, you suggested, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?"

He followed your gaze to see Mary-Beth and John grinning at you both as they stood by their tents. 

Playfully rolling his eyes, Charles guided you away from their gaze. 

   "Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

   "Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

   "Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

    "What's so funny?" Charles asked, hoping thewhole entire moment wasn't a set up so camp could make fun of him

   "Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all"

[duskholland]

Say Goodnight | Harrison Osterfield

Summary ↠ you and Harrison broke up before he left to chase his dreams in Hollywood. With 5,000 miles between you, you’re both struggling to adjust to life without the other; exes to lovers; prompt: “why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

Warnings ↠ angst with a happy ending, a breakup, one curse word?

Word Count ↠ 2.7k

A/N ↠ I miss Harrison. A lot. And I haven’t written enough for him, so...here ya go! This is definitely inspired by Ariana Grande’s song goodnight n go, which never fails to hit me in the feels (listen to the version from her live album... it’s magic).

This is also my fic for @t-holland2080​‘s writing challenge! Thanks so much for hosting such a fun challenge Sammy - I hope you enjoy this :)

(a repost because tumblr decided to block me out the tags lmao)

You didn’t think it was possible to cry this much.

Harrison’s standing in front of you, glistening tear tracks running down his rosy cheeks. His eyes shift over your face, guiltily running the lines and curves of your cheeks and your forehead, trying desperately to stay away from your eyes, because you both know that seeing the heartbreak reflected in his icy blue gaze will be too much. Your chest hurts and you’re shaking, but you know that everything he’s said is true. You know that breaking up is for the best.

But that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

“I still love you,” Harrison tells you quietly. He rocks back on his feet, his teeth grazing his lower lip before he adds, “I’ll always love you, Y/N. The timing just…”

“The timing isn’t right,” you finish. With shaky hands, you reach up behind your neck and your fingers fiddle with the clasp of the necklace Harrison had draped around you, all those months ago. He makes a small sound of objection as the chain falls heavily into your hands and you hold it out in front of you. “Keep it,” you urge. You finally let yourself meet his eyes, and you try to stay strong as you grab his hand and push the chain into his palm. “So you don’t forget about me whilst you’re off being a movie star.”

Harrison reluctantly pockets the chain, his eyes lingering on the solid curve of the H. “I could never forget about you, Y/N.”

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only way Harrison can pursue his dreams is 5,000 miles away, across the Atlantic in America. It’s even more unfair that you can’t go with him because you’re enrolled in university in London. But worst of all, neither of you signed up for a long-distance relationship when you first began dating, and now you’ve had to come to the mutual, heartbreaking decision that breaking up is going to be easier than stringing out a virtual relationship together. It doesn’t matter that you love Harrison more than you’ve ever loved another person, nor that he holds you so closely to his heart that he’s certain you’ve somehow intertwined yourself with his soul: long-distance is too much, and you both think you’ll be too busy to maintain your relationship. Neither of you want to sit by and watch your relationship break down.

So breaking up is simpler, supposedly.

“You should go,” you find yourself saying, swallowing down the lump in your throat. Your hand rests on your front door knob, the cool brass feeling icy against your warm skin. You use your other hand to sweep beneath your cheeks, trying to stop the endless flow of tears from your eyes. “Don’t want you to miss your flight, Haz.”

He runs his hand through his hair, a grimace spread across his face.

“I- Are you sure this is the right choice?” He asks, echoing the words you’ve both been saying for days.

You shrug helplessly. “I don’t know,” you admit. “But I know that I can’t stand here waiting for you to walk away any longer.” You release a deep breath. “Just go, Harrison. Please.”

And he looks like he really wants to stay. His feet twitch, as if he’s about to push his way back into your flat and throw himself down on the sofa like he’s done a thousand times before. But his eyes pass over your tearful, heart stricken face, and he finally sighs, slipping his hands into his back pockets as he manages a weak smile.

“Goodbye, Y/N,” he says softly, his lips curving around the words with ease. The way he says your name so fondly causes the pain in your chest to crack and expand.

“Bye, Harrison.”

And then he turns, slowly, and you watch as he drags his feet down the corridor. Harrison pauses when he reaches the staircase, one hand on the door as he casts his eyes back towards you. Your mouth twitches into a smile instinctively: the sight of his face, his loose blond curls, and his friendly smile never fails to make you feel warmer - even now, as he walks out of your life, taking a piece of your heart with him.

You raise your hand in a final wave, and then Harrison steels himself and walks through the door at the end of the corridor, leaving you standing alone in your doorway, a lump in your throat and a weight hanging so heavily in your heart that you know you won’t be forgetting him any time soon.

[-----]

Life without Harrison is hard.

Before you’d started dating him a year ago, you hadn’t believed love could feel so fulfilling or right. But then you’d stumbled into him at Tom’s birthday party and you’d immediately hit it off, and everything had changed. You think it would be hard not to instantly fall in love with Harrison: he’s charming, witty, and he carries such a bright light in his eyes that he had you hook, line, and sinker within the first ten minutes of your conversation.

As you try to move on, you find Harrison haunting your every move. You open Instagram and you see his posts and stories staring you right in the face, broadcasting his life out in LA with his new friends and castmates, and it stings. When you strike out and find yourself in the pub with Sam, all you can think about is how you used to frequent the place with him, and your eyes find the corner booth you’d used to sit in, your figure usually curled up in Harrison’s lap. You can almost feel the presence of his slender, delicate fingers wrapped around your waist as you gaze longingly at the booth.

And the most frustrating part of it all? Harrison seems fine. He seems completely unbothered, which just serves to twist the knife further into your chest every time your thumb hovers over his contact photo, or you start writing out a lengthy, emotional text. You’ve heard nothing from him, and it makes you question everything you’d thought you’d had together.

Everything changes one Wednesday night, around six weeks after Harrison had left.

You’re woken up by the loud, shrill ringing of your phone. You try to ignore it at first, groaning as you roll over on your side and try to press your head into your pillows, but it just keeps going, and it seems to rattle louder against your skull the longer it prattles on. So, after releasing a stream of your best expletives, you roll over and snatch it off your bedside table, accepting the call before you’ve even had time to check the caller ID.

“Hello?” You croak, clearing your throat immediately as you hear the fatigue hanging heavy in your throat.

“Y/N.”

Suddenly you’re wide awake.

“Harrison?!” You exclaim, sitting bolt upright. You bring your knees to your chest as you pull the duvet around you, trying to hide beneath the warm sheets as if they’ll protect you from the way that hearing his voice unleashes an onslaught of painful emotions. “What’s going on?”

Harrison doesn’t reply for a few moments, but merely the sound of his level, familiar breathing is enough to bring tears to your eyes. You try to push them away as your heart races in your chest, so many emotions flying through your heart that it feels consuming.

“Uh, nothing,” he eventually says softly. “Sorry. It doesn’t matter.”

“Then why did you call me at 2 in the morning?”

The sound of his chuckle is forced, but it’s so lovely to hear him again that you can’t stop yourself from smiling. “Oh, I didn’t realise it was so late,” he says, “‘m sorry, love.”

“It’s okay. I missed your voice.” It slips out before you can really stop it.

“I missed your voice too,” Harrison admits, voice thick. “I miss you so much, Y/N.”

You swallow deeply, running your fingers over the crinkles of your duvet as you think. Your mind runs slowly, clouded with your fatigue and your emotions, and you really don’t know how to take this all, but you know that hearing his voice makes you happy - more happy than you’ve felt in weeks.

“I miss you too,” you mumble down the line. Your fingers ache from how tightly you’re gripping the phone. “How’s LA?”

Harrison chuckles, and you hear a noise in the background as if he’s climbing into a bed. You can almost imagine him: his lanky legs spreading out over the sheets, a low groan slipping past his lips as he stretches out his arms and back. That lazy pink smirk hanging freely from his perfect lips. The image burns into your eyelids.

“LA is mad,” he tells you honestly. “It’s a whole different world over here, Y/N. It’s… It’s exciting, but it’s so different to London. I wish it would all slow down.”

“You’re really busy then?”

He hums lightly. “Yeah. I’m either on-set or doing fittings or rehearsals.”

“Are you having fun?”

Harrison takes a while to ponder your question.

“Yes,” he says, bringing a swell of tears to the front of your eyes. “But I’d be so much happier if you were here too.”

You try to disguise your sniffles, but you’re almost certain he can hear them. “Well… I’m not,” you manage. “I’m glad it’s giving you everything you wanted.”

There’s a very awkward, very thick silence that envelops the line, and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your sheets.

“I should let you sleep,” Harrison says, guilt lacing his words. “I’m sorry for waking you up. I shouldn’t have called you.”

“Oh, okay.” Your free hand clenches into a hard fist as you try to stop your lower lip from wobbling. “Don’t worry about it, Haz. I’m always here if you want someone to talk to.” A small smile flicks out across your lips. “Doesn’t matter what time it is.” I love you - those three unspoken words hang between you. You can feel them, surrounding you, smothering you, and you can almost hear them on the tip of Harrison’s tongue, so you jump in to add, “Goodnight, Harrison,” because you really can’t bear to hear them.

You can feel his reluctance, but you release a deep breath as he says, begrudgingly, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You hang up quickly, your fingers trembling as you toss the phone down the bed. The blank screen stares at you, taunting you, and you’re overcome with such a strong sense of regret that you almost reach out and call him back. Your body craves him - his soft, melodic voice, his gentle words, his love.

Your phone starts ringing, and you snatch it back up, eyes taking in the image of Harrison’s contact photo as he flashes over the screen. You accept it without a second thought.

“I don’t want to say goodnight yet,” Harrison says immediately, words falling into one another. “I don’t want to stop talking to you, Y/N. Can we please keep talking? Just for a bit.” He pauses, his voice breaking. “I miss you.”

The relieved smile on your face shows no sign of budging. “I don’t wanna say goodnight either, Haz.”

[-----]

It’s a bad habit, but for the entire time Harrison is away, you end up on the phone with him each evening. The first few times had been fairly spontaneous, but soon it becomes a habit: every day, as Harrison finishes filming, he gives you a call and you have a long, rambling conversation. It breaks up your sleep, but you grow so used to it that you start setting an alarm at 1.50am just so you can grab a cup of tea and wake yourself up before he calls.

It’s definitely inadvisable to stay so connected to your ex-boyfriend, but it feels too good to quit. Harrison is your drug, and every time you hang up the phone, you’re left feeling sad and hollow inside. But it eases the pain of having him so far away, and maybe a part of you deludes yourself by reasoning that your calls are helping you get over him: cutting him out completely was too hard, but maybe sharing these phone calls will help you. Eventually he’ll stop calling, and you’ll be able to heal, because you’ll have practised saying goodbye so many times it’ll feel normal.

But Harrison doesn’t stop calling, and you don’t stop answering, and soon enough, he’s been away for six months, and he’s preparing to move back to London, his film complete.

You don’t really know where you stand with him, if you’re being completely honest. He’s still your ex - but you’re still helplessly in love with him, and you’re fairly sure that most exes don’t spend hours on the phone each day, chatting and laughing like you’re still together. You try to bring it up with him, but every time you start the conversation, your heart clenches in your chest and you wimp out.

You ignore the difficult conversation for as long as you can - which lasts until you hear a loud knock on your front door, and you know that it’s him.

It feels almost like a gravitational pull, drawing you back to his figure. You’ve spent all day pacing your flat, fussing over your hair and your outfit, but for the entire time you’ve spent waiting on his flight arriving, you haven’t been sure if you’d be able to open the door and face him. But now you know that he’s here, your heart seems to act of your own accord.

You wrench your door open, and immediately you’re pulled into a tight, crushing hug. It knocks the air out of your lungs and you wheeze as you feel that familiar set of curls brushing up against your neck, and you feel a few tears slip from your eyes as you take it all in. He’s back.

“Haz,” you exclaim, your voice choked with tears. His hands move over your back, clinging to you, drawing you as close as possible as his rich, earthy cologne invades your system. It doesn’t even matter that his jacket has a collection of chilly raindrops clinging to the leather, because it feels so fucking perfect to have him so near you again that you can’t focus on anything other than him.

“I missed you,” he whimpers, as he pulls away from your neck. His large hands fall on your shoulders as he stares at you intently, his focused eyes whipping the air from your lungs. He looks so cute that you can’t really stop yourself from shifting closer and pressing your lips to his. Immediately you relax, and he does too, and he kisses you back softly. Your mouths are tender at first, pressing together softly - testingly - but as you wrap your hands around his waist and bring him closer, it deepens. Your mind spins with dizzy, overwhelming happiness as you revel in the feeling of Harrison, enjoying him utterly, your heart thrumming happily against your ribs.

“I missed you so much,” you mumble against his lips, kissing him between each word. Your fingers drift into his hair, and you smile as he hums in agreement.

“We are so stupid,” he says, drawing a laugh from your lips. “Can’t believe we ever thought breaking up was for the best.” His mouth shifts up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead. “I love you so much, Y/N. Please, can we get back together?” His words are desperate, but they echo the things you’ve been feeling for months, and hearing them is such a relief that you simply have to kiss him again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whisper, moving to rest your forehead on his shoulder. Harrison brings you into a warm hug, and you let him hold you as you breathe him in. “I missed you. I love you.” You tilt your head back, meeting his eyes gleefully. “I’m so glad that you’re back.”

Harrison reaches down and pulls a familiar, glinting chain from his pocket. Your gaze softens as you pull away from him and tilt your head, letting him wrap the necklace back around your neck. The H pendant settles gently over your chest, and it feels like coming home.

“Perfect,” he comments, and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you or the necklace, but you’re willing to accept either.

With a warm smile on your face, you move aside and welcome him inside. “D’you want a cup of tea?” You offer.

Harrison steps across the threshold and presses a final, loving kiss to your lips. “There’s nothing I’d like more.”

----

m-list

send me some feedback?

[seokmingiggles]

check in tag!

tagged by: @sanshiine​ (SUCH a long time ago, i’m so sorry !!!) and @wonwooslibrary​ !! thank you both :D

why did you choose your url?

i waited to do this tag game after my whole url changing fiasco last month LOL. but i settled on seokmingiggles due to,, it being pretty self explanatory? seokmin is one of my two ult biases, and giggles. just. the giggles. his giggles. ;-;

do you have any sideblogs?

yes! just the one for ficrec reblogs @hobiwiggles​ :3

how long have you been on tumblr?

seven months on this blog! but i used to have a different account (that i no longer use) that i made sometime around 2014.

do you have a queue tag?

yep yep it’s very simple just #lan’s queue (in which you will find far too many seokmin and hobi gifsets)

why did you start your blog in the first place?

i wanted to do something new while in quarantine between semesters late last year! the decision was made on a whim, but i haven’t regretted it since :D

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

seokmin and chan giggling,, again, i think that’s quite self explanatory.

why did you choose your header?

i wanted to utilize one of the (many, many) photos i took while i was in europe in 2015! i thought the colours somewhat match my pfp.

what’s your post with the most notes?

it recently became this jeonghan timestamp that i wrote recently!! :D i certainly wasn’t expecting it when i had posted it last month, but i’m grateful, nonetheless ^^

how many mutuals do you have?

i’m not entirely sure how many to be exact! but know that i appreciate every one of you <3

how many followers do you have?

i hit a mini milestone just recently :3 thank you to each one of my followers who’s been with me thus far <33

how many people do you follow?

87 accounts~

have you ever made a shitpost?

technically speaking,, aren’t all of my posts shit posts ?

how often do you use tumblr each day?

i check my dash fairly regularly but typically don’t post more than one or two things per day (if my queue is running)

did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

absolutely not. i can’t stand fighting D:

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

i’m not a fan of them

do you like tag games?

yes! even though they often take me a while to get to. i also love reading my mutuals’ responses :3

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also a yes! these, though, i typically do less often than tag games.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

oh, all of them!! but specifically @woozisnoots​ @seokwu​ @ahloveisboo​ @lunatens​​ 

do you have a crush on a mutual?

does it count if i have a crush on their writing? if so, then undoubtedly @adi--writes​​ @minghaofilm​​ @lovingyu04​​ plus many others <3

tags?

i’ll tag everyone who i’ve mentioned so far (although i know a lot of you have already done this game! no worries if that’s the case!!). along with some new mutuals i haven’t interacted much with !! @fallinchan​​ @starlightjoong​​ @hoshblr​​ @cloudyhaos​ @yoonzeeno​ <3

[robininthelabyrinth]

Three Gates - on ao3 (for content warnings check Ao3) - on tumblr: pt 1, pt 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5, pt 6, pt 7, pt 8

- Chapter 9 -

When Nie Huaisang was old enough to attend the lectures at the Cloud Recesses for what would prove to be the first of three times – they’d only planned to send him the once, when the right time came, but circumstances and an unusually uneasy border conspired to need them to send him early, and Nie Huaisang gamely volunteered to do so badly at his lessons that they’d have no choice but to take him back, as if he weren’t more-than-likely to get that result even if he were trying given that he was too busy using his brain for all sorts of other things – Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue made a point of coming in person to drop him off and pick him up.

The first time, Nie Mingjue loudly scolded Nie Huaisang about needing to do well, while Meng Yao hung around his shoulder with a worried expression that suggested he thought the entire thing was causing the Nie sect to lose face, and then they went to the hanshi to visit Lan Xichen and only just barely managed to hurry through the door before Nie Mingjue started laughing.

“It was a good idea,” Meng Yao scolded him, while Lan Xichen laughed into his sleeve in confused sympathy even though he had no idea what was so funny. “It’s going to work, mark my words.”

“I know, I know, it’s only – his face –”

Nie Huaisang had in fact been perhaps slightly overselling the ‘poor terrified younger brother who’s going to make a terrible fool of himself’ shtick.

Meng Yao’s lips twitched. “I understand that some exaggeration is common in beginning actors.”

“Huaisang can lie to my face without blinking an eye,” Nie Mingjue retorted, “and you taught him that. You were doing that on purpose. Both of you!”

They had been.

“Some points need to be driven home,” Meng Yao allowed. “Not everyone understands subtlety.”

“Do I want to know?” Lan Xichen put in, looking back and forth between them with a smile.

“We’re trying to get people to underestimate Huaisang,” Meng Yao explained. “And to think that he and da-ge aren’t as close as they are. As a matter of strategy.”

“Someone tried to kidnap him,” Nie Mingjue said, his laughter dying off. “He’s too young to defend himself, too independent to feel comfortable being guarded…Meng Yao proposed a middle path.”

“One that takes advantage of his already existing skillset,” Meng Yao put in.

“If by skillset you mean total inability to recall things he doesn’t care about.”

“I do, as it happens. It’s actually rather impressive how thoroughly facts flow out of his head like water, unless they’re about fans, or art, or – ”

Vengeance.

“ – other things like that.”

“He’s going to fail your uncle’s classes,” Nie Mingjue told Lan Xichen bluntly. “He was probably going to fail them anyway, but now it’s certain.”

Lan Xichen’s smile had faded as well, and he nodded. “I wish you did not have to make such calculations.”

“I wish your uncle were willing to make more of them,” Nie Mingjue said with a sigh. He did not mention Lan Xichen’s father, the nominal sect leader; the man hadn’t been seen in years and likely wouldn’t be for the rest of his life. “Even outside of wanting to make sure no one uses him as a bargaining chip against me, I don’t want anyone getting the idea that Huaisang is a younger and more vulnerable version of me.”

Anyone like Wen Ruohan, he meant, and Meng Yao didn’t have the heart to tell him that Wen Ruohan’s obsession with him was still startlingly personal. He’d had to see it again and again during the Discussion Conferences, all the little liberties Wen Ruohan enjoyed taking: sitting too close when possible, stroking his hand with his thumb while passing him a document, all but openly leering at him…

The other sect leaders pretended they didn’t notice, except only Lan Qiren who scowled helplessly whenever it got a bit too blatant – though Meng Yao suspected he might have mistaken the harassment as being mutual flirtation, which was somehow very nearly worse.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Lan Xichen promised. “Can you two stay for a while, or will the Unclean Realm collapse if you don’t return at once?”

Nie Mingjue smiled. He didn’t do that often anymore, and the effect of it had somehow – in some grotesque, unfortunate twist of the universe – only magnified; Meng Yao’s sole consolation was that Lan Xichen seemed as stunned by it as him. “I think we can manage to stay for a little while, just to make sure Huaisang is on the right track.”

They didn’t really have that excuse when they came to pick him up, but Lan Xichen found them a supposedly private place with really great acoustics and Nie Mingjue got to use his battlefield voice to shout at Nie Huaisang in such a way that everyone heard, without the benefit of seeing the increasingly ridiculous faces Nie Huaisang was making in response.

After that, even Lan Qiren had delicately suggested that they stay a few days longer, quite obviously meant to allow Nie Mingjue some time to cool off his temper before a long flight home, and they’d wisely stayed with Lan Xichen the entire time to allow Nie Huaisang to go dramatically lick his wounds where everyone would be able to hear about it.

After all, Nie Mingjue’s ability to keep straight face was good, but not that good.

The second time they came to visit, they also didn’t have any excuse, but Lan Xichen asked them to stay longer anyway, looking very serious, so they did.

He took them to a secluded field and plied them with treats and started in on the small talk and the disclaimers to the point that Meng Yao – who was very good at this sort of thing, but couldn’t stand the increasing distress on Nie Mingjue’s face at the unexpected barrage of excessive politeness – finally interrupted and said, “If there’s something you’d like to tell us, Xichen-xiong, please do.”

Lan Xichen looked uncertain, so Meng Yao added, “Before da-ge explodes.”

Lan Xichen glanced over at Nie Mingjue and snorted with involuntary laughter at his woeful expression. “I’m sorry. I’m nervous, that’s all.”

“That,” Nie Mingjue said, “is what’s making me nervous. Are you trying to break some sort of bad news to us?”

“No! No, not at all – at least, I hope it’s not bad. It might even be good.”

“And it is..?” Meng Yao prompted, amused. The behavior was classic Lan, for all that he wasn’t sure exactly what Lan Xichen was thinking about that had put him on edge to such a degree – one would think, looking at him, that he was about to confess his affections, rather than chatting with his friends.

The two, it turned out, were one and the same.

“Wait,” Nie Mingjue said, interrupting about halfway through the somewhat overly flowery and abstruse speech. “You like both of us?”

“I do,” Lan Xichen said. “Very much.”

Meng Yao’s mind was racing and his breath was a little short: for once in his life he didn’t know how to reach or think or feel or anything.

Because Lan Xichen remained just what Meng Yao had always thought he was, kind and generous, a gentleman, perfect, just what anyone could ever want, someone Meng Yao secretly did want but couldn’t have because it would mean leaving the Unclean Realm, leaving Nie Mingjue, and he couldn’t do that.

Because actually he really had started to get worried that Lan Xichen liked Nie Mingjue the way Nie Mingjue so very obviously liked him back because if he did then there really wasn’t anything Meng Yao could say to oppose it other than but you’re mine and it wouldn’t just be about Lan Xichen, either, but of course that wouldn’t work because they were brothers, though not by blood; that meant it would be wrong and Nie Mingjue didn’t do the wrong thing.

Because he’d never, for all his cleverness, thought of asking for both, because he couldn’t have both.

He couldn’t even have one.

“I thought you liked Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue said blankly, and Meng Yao felt a shiver of fear crawl up his spine: had Nie Mingjue only been holding back from pursuing Lan Xichen because of consideration for Meng Yao?

“I do. I just like you, too.”

“What are you proposing, exactly?” Meng Yao asked, and he only barely kept his voice even. “Would we trade off visits, perhaps? Set up a schedule?”

Lan Xichen blinked at him. “Why would you need to trade off visits? I had thought we could spend time together, as we’ve always done.”

Meng Yao wondered if there was a polite way to talk about the difficulties of having threesomes in which two parties didn’t touch with someone from the ever-repressed Lan sect. It wasn’t that he didn’t want Lan Xichen, he did, but he might actually die of jealousy if he had to watch him make love to Nie Mingjue, knowing that he could only touch the one and not the other.  

“I thought the same might be true for love,” Lan Xichen said, with only the tightness of his hands in front of him revealing his nervousness now. “If you two would be willing to accept me, that is – I would never presume to interfere with your love for each other.”

Oh, no. Meng Yao was going to have to explain this, and then he would die.

A pity. It’d been a pretty decent life, as they went.

“Xichen,” Nie Mingjue hissed, his cheeks bright red, and Meng Yao already knew what he would say: that it was incest, legally speaking, even if they were not related by blood; that he thought of Meng Yao only as a little brother; that he’d never thought of it once, that it was disgusting, that he – “That was shared in confidence!”

Meng Yao blinked. His mind, which had never once stopped moving, seemed to be unable to function.

“But Mingjue-xiong, it’s important –”

“But he doesn’t – I don’t want him to feel like – ” Nie Mingjue’s eyes flickered over to him, panicked, and Meng Yao recognized it from what was now over a decade earlier, that nervousness and anxiety that was all for Meng Yao’s sake, a fear that he would feel like a stranger, unwanted, that he would think that he had to pay something for all that he had received, when all Nie Mingjue had ever wanted was his happiness.

“I think this plan of yours will work,” Meng Yao said to Lan Xichen, suddenly calm.

Calm, and very, very happy.

They both stared at him, and Meng Yao smiled. “I like you,” he said to Lan Xichen, and then, to Nie Mingjue, “I like you, too.”

Words didn’t exist that defined exactly what he felt for Nie Mingjue, something so far beyond love that it went into possessiveness and had come out the other side as liking; he wasn’t anywhere near there with Lan Xichen yet, had never allowed himself to go there with Lan Xichen because he knew his heart had already been taken, but they’d made a decent start and he thought they could get there, one day.

“I think you like him, too,” he told his da-ge, who’d always been bad at categorizing his own emotions and would definitely have no idea that he might have feelings for the childhood friend he’d allowed to grow nearly as close as his own family. “And – me, as well.”

“Meng Yao –”

“I don’t think of it as an obligation, or as something to endured,” Meng Yao continued, not letting him have a chance to speak. Not for the first time, he cursed Wen Ruohan in his mind: he ought to have considered the damage Wen Ruohan’s relentless pursuit had wrought on Nie Mingjue’s view of romantic relationships; it wasn’t really a surprise that even the whiff of a suggestion that consent might be questionable would send him fleeing. “But rather as a gift that I have been honored to be given.”

Nie Mingjue seemed almost dumbstruck by his words, although the fear in his eyes was slowly receding – still wary, but now with the possibility of joy. “I didn’t – it’s not – I don’t feel that way about Huaisang or anything. It’s just you.” A glance at Lan Xichen. “Both of you.”

“You never said anything,” Meng Yao teased lightly, and reached out a hand to hold Lan Xichen’s, squeezing it in gratitude for his bravery. Lan Xichen squeezed back, looking increasingly delighted at the way things were going.

“I couldn’t,” Nie Mingjue said, expression solemn. “I’m older, taller, stronger, with a temper I can’t always control; my political position is stronger, sect leader as opposed to a sect heir and an advisor. It would not be easy to say no –”

As if they couldn’t blow Nie Mingjue around like a paper lantern – he, who folded like a stack of cards at their every request.

“– and any consequences from a relationship would be borne by you. I could not bear to cause either of you pain.”

Lan Xichen, whose uncle would never approve of his having fallen in love with someone inappropriate; Meng Yao, who the world would whisper was just like his mother – yes, Meng Yao could see the problem, and the problem was only magnified by the fact that Nie Mingjue liked them both. How could Nie Mingjue accept Lan Xichen, when Meng Yao was in his heart? How could he speak to Meng Yao, who owed him everything, in a way that would let him know that the response was sincere? And of course if he let them be together instead, he was not so good an actor that they would be able to avoid all the problems associated with that; no matter what they did, there would always be rumors that one or another might be stolen away –

The plan blossomed to life in Meng Yao’s mind, fully formed.

He turned it around in his head a few times, only half-listening to Lan Xichen’s passionate declaration that it was pain he was willing to bear for love, his explanation that he knew that he was not yet in either of their hearts the way they were for each other, that he was only asking for the opportunity to try, but in the end he really couldn’t see any flaws with the idea at all. It would work perfectly with everything he’d already established, the groundwork years in the making, and no one would have any reason to question it.

It would be easy enough to convince Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen that it made more sense for the public aspects of their romance to start with Meng Yao and Lan Xichen – perhaps he could stay longer at the Cloud Recesses, which Nie Mingjue could not, or find some reason to come alone when the time came to pick up Nie Huaisang. He could make his smiles wider, his eyes more shining, paint himself as the perfect picture of a man in love – it’d be easy, given that he was already halfway there.

And when the time came, perhaps next year when all the other sect heirs came for their turn at the famous lectures of the Cloud Recesses, when Nie Mingjue took his turn at being the one who was affectionate, the entire world would think that Nie Mingjue had stolen Lan Xichen away from Meng Yao.

The entire world –

And Wen Ruohan, too.

It was the perfect plan.

[roseinaugust]

Like an Old Enemy

Chapter Eight: You Can Bring The Trowel

Summary: Miraculous Enemies AU. Gabriel Agreste has the Black Cat Miraculous in his possession, so when his wife, Emilie, "disappears," he sends his son, Adrien, undercover to pose as Ladybug's partner. Two years later, the once famous duo are sworn enemies. Marinette might have loved Chat Noir once, but now she would stop at nothing to defeat him. Adrien will do whatever it takes to bring his mother back. Best friends in their civilian lives, Adrien and Marinette find obstacles and complications when they can no longer deny their love for each other. But will they be able to understand and forgive the mistakes of their past? Or will they be doomed to end as bitter rivals a second time?

Rated: T

Pairings: Ladybug/Chat Noir Enemies, Adrien Agreste/Marinette Dupain-Cheng Mutual Pining

Word Count: 7,619

Read on: ao3

A/N: I am only posting part of this chapter on tumblr so please read the rest on ao3!

Marinette never ate the ice cream Andre had given her. So, why was Chat Noir on her balcony? 

There was really only one possible answer: he knew her identity. Her plan with the Black Potion seemed foolproof but he must have seen something or figured it out, biding his time until he had the perfect opportunity to attack when she was vulnerable. He probably followed her all night, lurking in the shadows as she made a fool of herself in front of her friends. She wouldn’t put it past him and Hawkmoth if they turned out to be the reason why Adrien couldn’t come in the first place; they always orchestrated plans like that. 

What was she going to do? Should she transform and fight him here on her cramped balcony? If he already knew her identity, then this was it. There would be no escape into the night to regroup; it would be over, and she would need every bit of Ladybug’s strength to finish it. 

But what if he didn’t know? It seemed improbable, but if there was even the smallest chance her identity hadn’t been compromised, shouldn’t she take the risk to protect it? She could lose precious time as a civilian, but until she knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chat Noir knew she was Ladybug, she couldn’t transform. 

Now that left her with the task of deciding what to do with him. She glanced, ever so slightly, over her shoulder to gauge how far away he was. He was only a single—albeit large—step away, standing directly in the middle of her balcony. It was time to stop thinking, time to act instead. 

“Marinette?” Chat Noir said again, raising his right arm as if to tap her on the shoulder. 

She stepped backwards until her back was nearly flush to his chest. Her left hand circled around his outstretched wrist as her right locked underneath his bicep. Before he could even process what was happening, Marinette dropped her weight, pulling Chat Noir over her shoulder. He let out an oof of pain as he landed on the solid ground of her terrace. His metallic black ring glittered, catching the moonlight on his outstretched hand. 

Before she could move to take the ring, Chat Noir hooked his legs around her ankles, sending her plummeting to the hard surface, her head barely missing the corner of the flower box. Pain jolted through her back, but she gritted her teeth and looked for a way out of her predicament. As a civilian, she couldn’t overpower Chat Noir, and she no longer had the element of surprise. 

What she needed was a weapon. 

Chat Noir was already on his feet, his cat-like reflexes giving him an advantage. In a blink of an eye, he was hovering over her. This was it. He was going to kill her. She was going to die and she had spent her last day on earth acting like a brat because of some stupid ice cream. He grinned as he grew closer, that easy-going charm that masked the cruelty beneath. If she was going to die, she would give one hell of a fight going down. 

She swiftly reached for the discarded trowel next to her, brandishing it in front of her with straight arms. Chat Noir veered back as the point of the gardening tool found its way to the sliver of exposed skin at his throat. He blinked at her in astonishment. Marinette was still laying on her back; Chat Noir was still too close. The only way out of her position would be to transform. “Are you still mad that I threw a rock at you?” She baited, throwing one last-ditched attempt to see if he knew her identity. 

He blinked once more, then burst into laughter. His eyes squeezed shut and his shoulders bounced, the sound of his laugh harsh against the quiet night. She longed just moments ago to hear that sound. Now, though it was just as melodic as before, it left a bitter taste in her mouth. How quickly her desires changed when confronted with reality. Chat Noir plucked the trowel out of her hands, super-strength overpowering her grip, and dropped it onto a nearby table carelessly. Weaponless and defenseless, Marinette sucked in a breath, accepting the limited options she had left. There was only one: transform and fight. 

Before she could say the transformation words, she was lifted off the ground effortlessly. Arms held aloft for balance, Marinette found herself on her feet once more. She eyed Chat Noir as he moved to the opposite side of the terrace, distancing himself from her. What is he playing at? He took one look at Marinette’s defensive stance and laughed, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

He had her completely defenseless and chose to help her up. Maybe he really didn’t know she was Ladybug… She straightened but kept her eyes fixed on him, poised for any sudden movement. “You already have.” He hurt her in more ways than he knew. 

“Sorry,” he apologized. He looked genuinely sorry for causing her pain, but she would never know what was genuine when Chat Noir was concerned. “But you had me in quite a compromising position.” He said, returning to his typical laissez-faire attitude. He held up his right hand, waggling his fingers to show off the Ring of the Black Cat. “Where’d you learn to do that?” 

“Akuma self defense class.” She answered curtly, thankful for the few afternoons she managed to convince Alya and Alix to join her. She was plenty strong and quite adept at fighting, but she wanted to be prepared as Marinette in case she was unable to transform. 

“Came in handy.” 

“Yeah, well it’s not like I expected a supervillain to show up on my balcony.” She crossed her arms, playing into the annoyed civilian act she used during Evillustrator and Syren. “What are you doing here, Chat Noir?” 

“Oh you know, the life of a villain gets boring sometimes. Lonely even.” That lazy grin that once made Marinette feel safe and secure, unsettled her now. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” she lied. She was very much afraid, but she would never show it to him. 

Chat Noir watched her intently before saying, “I know.”

Marinette’s skin prickled, annoyance and anger setting in at the surety of his statement. “Don’t pretend like you know me,” she bristled. 

He abandoned his spot on the terrace, making his way to her at a crawl. She held her ground. If she backed away, he would see her fear. He was only a step away when he spoke again, just above a whisper: “And what if I’m not pretending?” 

A pause. 

Then a flurry of action. 

Marinette ducked around Chat Noir, maneuvering her body away until it was next to the table. She grabbed for the trowel again, but he was too fast. He was on her in a blink of an eye, spinning her to face him. His chest flat against  hers, so close she saw his eyes dilate in the dim glow of her string lights. Her wrist held in his hand, a firm grip that pressed into her, demanding she release the weapon. “Tsk tsk, Marinette,” he ducked his head to whisper in her ear. His breath sent a shiver down her spine. “I told you that I wouldn’t hurt you. Don’t you trust me?” 

“No.” She stated flatly. All her attention was focused on keeping her hold on the tool, but it was no use. As Marinette, she couldn’t compete with Chat Noir, and released it. It clattered to the floor between them and Chat Noir let go of her wrist in favor of retrieving it. With it in his grasp, he moved away from her and perched on the railing. 

“Smart girl,” He used the tip of the trowel to clean underneath his claws. She rolled her eyes, exasperated with the stupid cat’s jokes. His costume covered the underneath of his claws. “But you can. Trust me, that is.” 

“And why’s that?” She scoffed. If there was one thing she couldn’t do, it was trust Chat Noir. 

“Well, I’ve already saved your life twice. Seems kinda stupid to start hurting you now.” He stated as if this was the most logical answer. 

“So why did you? Doesn’t it go against your image to save civilians?” She sneered, emphasizing the ‘civilian’ aspect to distance herself from a certain spotted superhero. 

“Yes, which is why it’s our little secret.” He winked at her, lounging on top the railing as if he owned the place. 

“Why did you save me?” Marinette stepped forward. “You never answered me last week during Syren’s akuma.”

He sat up, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “That’s not true. I gave you an answer.” 

“You said you didn’t want me to die.” She took another step forward. Chat Noir held his neutral expression, refusing to comment. “Why? You don’t care about civilians dying. So why save me?” 

That finally got a reaction out of him. He slipped off the railing to face her head on. “You don’t know what I care about.” 

She moved closer again, brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of him. “What are you saying? That you care about me?” He clenched his jaw, silent under the night sky, neither confirming nor denying her question. She searched his eyes for an answer but they were unreadable—a mysterious storm of green that masked his emotions. “Why? What makes me different?” 

He broke first, turning around to look out over the city. “Everything,” he breathed, so quiet she could barely hear him. 

Marinette’s mind reeled. How could he possibly feel like this? Although she has known him for years, Chat Noir only just met Marinette less than a month ago. Evillustrator felt like a different lifetime, but in reality it’s only been a few weeks. His words from earlier rung in her head, and what if I’m not pretending? Was it possible that she knew Chat Noir in his civilian identity? Or is this just part of another scheme to take the Miraculous? 

Her temper flared at the inability to solve this puzzle. She’s had enough of these games, enough of this back and forth dance, circling around the situation. “Why did you really come here?” At his silence, she marched over to the iron railing. There was still a considerable distance between them, but her presence demanded answers. 

He shrugged, turning his head slightly to see her. “You looked upset.” 

She hadn’t meant to laugh, but the sheer ridiculousness of that statement made it impossible to contain. “What? You thought you would cheer me up?” 

His lip twitched before plastering on his trademarked grin. “You don’t like me,” he stated casually. 

Marinette didn’t know if that was strictly true. Like and dislike. Love and hate. The concepts were all so interwoven and complex it was impossible to tell them apart anymore. The way she felt about him now as he stood before her—though she couldn’t quite tell if she even felt anything other than the necessity of survival—was not the same as she felt walking home that evening. Was there even a word that could encapsulate all her thoughts about him? One word to describe the masochistic ache of missing someone who hurt you in immeasurable ways? Was there a phrase to relate to the quick-fire shifts in her emotions; from loathe to longing to bitterness all in the blink of an eye? Marinette didn’t think it was possible to summarize all her history with Chat Noir into a simple ‘like.’ Instead she asked, “Am I supposed to?” 

Taking her response as a confirmation of her dislike, Chat Noir resumed nonchalance. “That’s your opinion, even if it’s the wrong one to have.” 

“I didn’t realize my opinion mattered.” 

He didn’t respond. Instead, he shifted, turning his back to the night sky and leaned against the iron railing. “So,” He started, changing the conversation, “what has you crying alone on your balcony?” 

She reddened, embarrassed of being perceived in such a vulnerable state with out her knowledge. She had cried in front of him before, but that was as Ladybug, when she had anonymity and the security of her mask. But this, him seeing her as Marinette during what she thought was a private moment, suddenly felt like a violation. It was wrong. It was all wrong. He was never supposed to see her as Marinette. Never supposed to have access to this part of her life. That was supposed to be secret—sacred, even—yet here he was, intruding. “How did you even know I was crying? Were you spying on me?” She asked defensively. 

“What? No, no!” He was flustered. “I swear. Hawkmoth sent me to this area. I was positioned over there,” he pointed to the school rooftop across the street, “and saw you come out to the balcony crying.” She narrowed her eyes at him. It could all be a lie obviously, but the rational part of her brain poked holes in her own theories. How would Hawkmoth and Chat Noir have known she would come out to her balcony tonight? She was unsettled, but she needed to see what information she could get out of him. Why had Hawkmoth sent him to this area? She couldn’t ask him that yet, he would deflect or outright refuse to answer. Marinette needed to gain his trust but it had to seem like he was earning hers too. 

“What makes you think I would even tell you what was wrong?” 

He shrugged, tilting his head up to look into the night sky. A breeze blew through the air, lifting Marinette’s hair but she didn’t move to push it back. “Sometimes,” he started after a pause, “it’s easier to talk about your problems with a stranger.” 

Her breath hitched. Here was her opening. It might be shot down but there wouldn’t be a better opportunity to ask. The possibility that she knew Chat in his civilian identity quickened her heartbeat. What if he was someone she was friends with? Would it be akin to a second betrayal? Another friendship ruined by the strange circumstances she found herself in? 

While the prospect terrified her, it would also give her a starting point to uncover his identity. For the past year, she’s had nothing but dead ends, overwhelmed by the vast amount of possible suspects in the city. If she knew him, if he was someone in her life, it narrowed her search. Possibly enough for her to find out once and for all who wore the Black Cat Ring. She inhaled deeply, building her courage to ask, “Are we really strangers though?”

For a while he didn’t say anything. His silence was making her anxious and she was suddenly aware of how cold the night air was. With his sly grin cemented on his face, he straightened and turned to her, holding out his empty hand. “Come with me,” he said with a step forward. 

A/N: Reminder that this is only part of the chapter so read the rest here

[tony-is-my-daddy]

Hi guys! So this is my 1000th post on this blog. I cannot express how thankful I am to all of you who have followed me and still read and see and like all of my stupid posts. I see all of your likes and reblogs and tags and comments, it fills my heart with such great happiness, you all are awesome! I'm so glad I get to be in this amazing fandom, it kinda feels like a second family at this point.

Anyway, tumblr freaked out when I wanted to post the whole thing in one, so I will separate it into two parts. Enjoy part one.

Dream a little dream of me

Peter loved his job more than anything. Being a kindergarten teacher was great, he loved being around kids and he knew the feeling was mutual, most of his kids said he was their favorite teacher. He had so many of their drawings and crafts, he kept them in a special folder in his desk at home. It warmed his heart and made a huge smile stretch over his face when he saw another drawing made for him. He loved all of his students equally. Okay, that's what he told everyone, because he wasn't supposed to say the truth. He couldn't tell people he had a favorite, that was rude and Peter wasn't gonna disappoint his kids. But truth be told, the little girl with the chestnut hair and the sparkly brown eyes and pretty smile was his favorite one of them all.

Morgan Stark, the daughter of a single mother, famous CEO's of Stark Industries and ex-lovers, Pepper Potts and Tony Stark. Morgan had only been Peter's student for a month and she already managed to get into Peter's heart with her charm and her smile. During those first four weeks of the school year, he hadn't had a chance to meet the girl's father. Obviously, he knew who it was. Everyone did. But Peter was so excited to see the man because honestly, Tony Stark had been his biggest celebrity crush for as long as he could remember. The thirty-five years old genius was not just smart and rich, he was also very handsome.

So it was understandable if he forgot how to breathe for a second when he was just reading something while the kids played around, waiting for their parents, and Morgan suddenly yelled out in that angeling voice of hers, "Daddy!"

Peter's head snapped up. He looked at the man at the door as he leaned down and picked up the small girl, kissing her forehead before he sat her on his hip. Peter's jaw dropped and he just stared. Tony was... wow. He was so hot, even more so up close than he did in all those pictures and interviews Peter had seen him in.

"Daddy, look, there's Mr. Parker. He's the nicest teacher ever!" Peter had no idea how to react. He moved to stand up, but then sat back down again, thinking it would be too much. But when the older man approaced him, he stood up anyway.

"So you're the teacher this little one has been telling me about lately. Hello, I'm Tony Stark," the man said with a smile - wow, so that's where Morgan got her smile from - and reached out a hand for Peter. It took a moment for him to process what was going on, but then he shook Tony's hand with an awkward laugh.

"I know, sir. I'm Peter. Parker."

Tony smiled and let the handshake last for a second or two longer than a normal handshake would, but Peter didn't mind.

"Go collect your stuff, babygirl," Tony said and set Morgan down to run back to her classmates and collect her backpack. Then, his attention turned back to Peter, he was now smirking. "Well, Mr. Parker, my daughter seems to love you very much."

"Oh yes, I love her too, you know. She's such a sweet little girl. She became my favorite student recently." He added that last thing quietly so that the rest of the class didn't hear it.

"Oh really?"

"Yes, of course! She's very nice and smart, she probably got that from her dad."

Peter only realized what slipped from his mouth when he saw Tony's lips stretch into a grin. "You think I'm smart, Mr. Parker?"

"Obviously, you're a literal genius, sir. The smartest person of our generation."

"That's very flattering, Mr. Parker. Thank you."

"Please, call me Peter, sir."

"Then you should call me Tony."

Was this flirting? No, there was no way. Right? Tony Stark could've got anyone, lingerie models would hang off his shoulders if he just asked them to do so, so many people wanted to get him and out of them all, why oh why would he choose Peter Parker?

"O-okay. Tony," Peter said, his voice a bit shaky, unsure. Just then, Morgan appeared next to her father, clutching the straps of her Iron Man backpack with her little hands.

"Can we go now," she asked.

"Of course munchkin. Give daddy that backpack, there you go. Say goodbye to Mr. Parker."

"Bye Mr. Parker," she waved as they walked towards the door hand in hand.

"Bye Morgan," he waved as well with a smile. That little girl was so adorable.

The next day, Peter was not expecting Tony again to come collect Morgan, but it looked like neither did Morgan.

They were outside on the playground when Tony walked through the gates and Morgan frowned at her from the sandbox. "Daddy? Why are you here? Where's mommy?"

"Mommy's busy, Morguna. But I'm here, aren't you happy?"

"I am!"

Tony laughed, oh, what a sound. "Alright then, little bug, go get your backpack."

"Yes daddy!"

She was up soon, running through the playground to go back in the building, both Tony and Peter yelling after her to slow down. They looked at each other and laughed.

"We meet again," Tony said, taking a few steps closer towards Peter.

"Looks like it," he said, still smiling.

"How was she today?"

"Oh amazing, just like always. There was a little misunderstanding when Lori over there tried to take one of her toys, but we worked that out eventually."

"Great to hear that," Tony said. He took another step forward. They were now a bit closer than Peter should've been with one of his students' father. "I've wanted to ask, by the way, how old are you, Peter?"

It caught him off-guard a little, usually his kids' parents didn't ask how old he was. They asked about how their children behaved, obviously, but never about Peter. Why would he care about Peter?

"Oh I'm twenty-five, sir. Tony, sorry. Um... why are you asking?"

"I was just curious." Another step forward. Peter's heart was now starting to beat a little faster. "Are you, by any chance, interested in men? Because... I'd like to grab a coffee with you sometime, of course, only if you'd like that."

Well, if the age question caught him off-guard then imagine Peter after that. His eyes widened and he crossed his arms so he could pinch the skin on his upper arm unnoticeably, just to see if he was really not dreaming. But no, Tony Stark still stood in front of him, expecting an answer from him.

Peter swallowed, suddenly noticing how dry his mouth was, before he cleared his throat to speak up. "Like- like on a date?"

"Yes, pretty much. I don't really know if there's a rule against that but... I'd like to take you out sometime. If you want to, that is."

"Well, yeah, yes, sure," he said after a little hesitation. What the hell was he hestitating for? This was Tony fucking Stark himself! "When?"

"Well, here's my number," the billionaire said as he fished his phone out from his pocket, and so did Peter. His hand was shaking a little from how excited he was, which he hoped Tony didn't see. They looked at each other, Tony smirking a little when he asked if he can say it. Peter nodded and the older man told him his number and Peter wrote it in his contact list, naming him Tony Stark with all caps because how crazy was that?!

"Daddy, look, I drew something for mommy!" Morgan's voice startled them again and Peter put his phone away quickly.

"Very beautiful baby, she'll love it."

"I didn't draw anything for you," she said with a little pout.

"That's okay, my love, you'll draw something tomorrow," Tony said with a fond smile as he took ahold of Morgan's little hand.

"But mommy said he'd come for me tomorrow."

"Oh honey, I think mommy will be busy tomorrow as well." Tony glanced at Peter and winked before they turned around and walked through the gates, getting into a black car right outside. As they drove off, Peter's finger started to itch for his phone right away.

He didn't see Tony for a few days after that, even though he said he'd come for Morgan the day he gave him his number. Peter started to worry, thinking it was his fault, that he scared him off. It's been four days, including the weekend, and the older man didn't even try to call him.

Fuck, he didn't even get Peter's number! What if he was waiting for a text? Oh God, Peter was so dumb!

He then and there stopped planning tomorrow's classes and he grabbed his phone, opening the chat with Tony. His thumb danced over the screen for a few minutes, trying to decide what to write, trying to think of something nice and sweet, maybe a bit cheeky to make Tony smile. He wrote and deleted. Wrote and then deleted. Until he decided to just stick with the essentials, and he wrote a //very original// text.

Peter: Hi, it's Peter.

Peter: Parker.

He waited for a few minutes, anxiously staring at his screen for a while before he put it down and decided to make himself a tea to distract himself. He walked into his kitchen, filling the kettle with hot water and putting it on the stove to boil. And while his hands were occupied, his mind could do nothing but wander back to that man. He thought back to that day when he asked him out, when he stepped closer and closer to Peter, close enough to touch but he never did. He was too scared he'd come off as weird or eager if he touched him. After all, what kind of teacher touches his students' parents a day after meeting for the first time?

The water boiled soon and Peter poured some in his huge, colorful mug, placing the tea filter in it, a teaspoon of sugar and then he was back in his living room, grabbing his phone from his desk before he sat down on the couch. He checked if he got any messages. And in that very minute, his phone buzzed, making Peter jump and his phone almost fell out of his hand.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

Tony: Well hello Peter, you almost made me think you changed your mind about that date

Peter: No, of course not! I'd still very much like to go out with you

Oh wow, that seemed eager as hell. It dawned on Peter that maybe he should've waited at least a couple minutes before texting back, he now probably seemed so pathetic, like he waited for ten minutes staring at his phone and waiting for Tony to write back. He didn't have too much time to worry about that, because another text from Tony came through.

Tony: That's very good to hear, darling. So when are you free?

It was just as quick as Peter's response. Maybe Tony didn't care about how fast Peter texted back to him, maybe he just wanted to talk...

Peter: I'm free this weekend, Saturday if that's ok with you

Tony: That would be good for me too. Around 9 maybe?

Peter: Sounds perfect

Perfect? Why did he say perfect? "That's good," "that'll be nice," "okay," something simpler like that didn't go through your mind, Parker?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Tony: Then I'll see you in four days, Peter x

Peter: See you x

They really did that. They really just sent each other x's. Peter squealed a little as he put his phone down, jumping on his seat in excitement. He took a sip of the hot tea that's been resting on his coffee table since he made it, and turned on the TV. A silly romcom was playing, The ugly truth. Peter had seen it before, he liked it, mostly because he found Gerard Butler hot. What? He had a thing for older men.

So he settled down on the comfy couch, a blanket over him and the hot tea warming his icy fingertips as he watched the movie. And while he did, he still thought about Tony, and mentally, he was choosing an outfit for the occasion.

Two days later, on a rainy Wednesday when all of the kids were in the room, playing by themselves during the afternoon, Morgan walked up to Peter as he was talking to another student. She pulled him away and then showed him a drawing of hers.

"Wow, Morgan, that's so pretty! Who are these people," he asked, pointing at the stick figures on the paper.

"That's mommy, that's me, and that's you and daddy."

Peter's eyes widened. "Why me and daddy?"

"Because," she started fiddling with her hands dancing from side to side, "I told daddy I like you very much and he said he likes you too and he said he will take you on a date but I can't tell anyone but I wanted to tell you so please don't tell daddy I told you but he wants to take you on a date."

Peter chuckled, ruffling her brown hair. She looked so much like Tony. "It's okay, little one, I'm sure daddy won't be mad you told me. But don't tell anyone else if he doesn't want you to, okay?"

"Otay!"

"Will you go back to playing now?"

"Yes but I want you to have the drawing."

"I'll keep the drawing," he said with a warm smile and Morgan giggled happily before skipping away, back to her friends. Peter looked at the drawing for quite a while as he walked back to his desk, sitting on top of it. It was like any drawing done by a small child, but this was... somehow different. His kids often drew him and then gave the drawing to him, but this wasn't like that. Morgan drew her father, her mother, herself and Peter. She drew her family... and Peter.

"Hey," he heard a voice next to him and he looked up from the drawing in his hand. It was Tony. "I came for Morgan."

He came in so quietly, not even Morgan was aware that her dad walked into the room. She was playing along with her friends, her back turned to Tony and Peter.

"Hi," Peter greeted when he looked back at Tony.

"What are you looking at?"

"It's a- uh... Morgan drew this for me today." He put the drawing down on the desk facing downwards so that Tony didn't see it. "So you're taking dad duty today?"

"Sort of. Can I see the drawing?"

"Sort of? So you're just picking her up and then dropping her at her mom's house?"

"No, I'm taking her for dinner as well, but full dad duty is when she sleeps at mine. So the drawing-"

"How often does she sleep at yours?"

"Every second week, except for when I have busieness trips."

"I didn't see you last month at all, though."

"No, we left out a month, I had lots of things to do. I've missed her so much."

"I bet you did. I'd miss her too if I didn't get to see her for a month."

"So... can I see the drawing," he asked again.

"Morgan, look who it is!"

"Daddyyy!"

Tony tried to look at Peter angrily, but a smile spread over his face. "Cheeky," he said before turning around and crouching down in front of his daughter. "What's up Morguna? Are you ready for a fun afternoon?"

"Yeees!"

"Grab your jacket and your backpack and we can go." As Morgan ran away, he straightened up again and looked at Peter. "And you... I'll pick you up at 8:30 on Saturday, send me your address."

"Gladly," Peter chuckled.

After the Starks left, Peter turned the drawing up again and stared at it for a couple more minutes until another parent arrived to pick up their kid. He had no idea how to feel about being a part of their family just yet... but he very much liked the idea of Tony Stark.

A few days later, Peter was up at 7am, trying to choose between three outfits for his date that morning. The night before, he went through two facemasks, a hairwash and shaving as well (no, he wasn't about to get to business on the first date, but better be safe than sorry), so for the morning, all he had to do was get dressed and do his hair.

He may or may not had a little breakdown while trying to decide which outfit he wanted to wear, but that's normal, and at the end, he chose a V-neck burgundi shirt with jeans and a jacket. He styled his hair perfectly (thank the hair gods for that, he had never managed to do that before), and panicked when his doorbell buzzed.

"Parker, who is this?"

"Tony."

"You said you'd text before you left and called when you got here!"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"Oh my God, be glad I'm ready anyways, otherwise you'd be in trouble."

Tony laughed. "Alright, Cinderella, come down and show me yourself."

Peter smiled and grabbed his keys and wallet from the kitchen counter before heading out.

"Wow," Tony mumbled when they finally met in front of the building. "Didn't think you could look better."

Peter blushed. "Thank you." The man in front of him was wearing a button up and black jeans, a jacket casually thrown over his shoulders. He looked so effortlessly good, the kind that would get up from bed and just look sexy as ever. "You look great, too."

"Why thank you, angel. Shall we go?"

"Oh yes, of course! Where are we going?"

"I wanted to take you somewhere further away but I saw a very cute café not far away, we could walk there," Tony said as he took ahold of Peter's hand and wrapped it around his arm to lead him. Wow, no one has ever done that to Peter before.

"That's my favorite place!"

"I assumed," Tony commented with a triumphant smirk.

"Since when do you teach kindergarteners?"

"I started about three years ago, I graduated early."

"And why this career?"

Peter chuckled. He often got that question. "I think it's one of the most important jobs, to raise the next generation well. If you don't do it right then humanity will just get more and more screwed up."

"Fair point."

Peter then turned the question around. "And why guns?"

Tony sighed. "It was my dad's legacy. He wanted me to carry on with it, so I did, and I didn't see anything wrong with it until..."

He knew Tony was talking about the time he got kidnapped by the Ten Rings and became Iron Man. That was when Peter really started looking up to the man, he thought it was a very heroic move and he wasn't sure if he'd have had the balls to give up his job to be a superhero and fight people.

"I'm sorry for bringing it up."

"No, it's okay, I just don't talk about this on the first date," he dodged with a joke. Peter laughed and happily changed the subject before it got too much for Tony.

After the short walk, they entered the café and ordered two coffees and pastries for each of them. As they had their breakfasts (at least that's what it was for Peter), they talked about movies, and turns out they were both huge fans of retro sci-fis and action movies. Peter also mentioned that he liked romcoms and after a while, Tony admitted that he "kinda likes them" as well. It was sweet to see this man, a billionaire genius superhero, open up and show Peter his soft side.

But the softest side of Tony came through when Peter asked about Morgan.

"Me and my back then secretary, Pepper had this crazy night. We were both drunk and somehow she just got pregnant. At first we really panicked, but now, we wouldn't have in otherwise. This little sunshine is really the highlight of our lives, she's so chatty and so cute. And I hate watching Disney movies every single night when she's over, but that would be the smallest sacrifice if it meant I could have her over all the time." He showed Peter hundreds of images of her on his phone and Peter's heart melted more and more from every picture. The drawing that the little girl gave him on Wednesday popped into his mind again and now he saw it from a slightly different perspective...

They didn't even notice how quick the time went as they talked, it was like they'd only just met up in front of Peter's building, but when he caught a glimpse of Tony's Rolex, he saw that they've been there for over two hours. He mentioned it to Tony, who laughed and offered Peter a walk home, which he gladly accepted. The older man didn't let him pay the bill either, even though Peter said multiple times that he doesn't expect Tony to buy everything for him. He just insisted.

"I had a lot of fun today, Peter," Tony said as they were heading back to Peter's apartment, this time with not only their arms wrapped around the other's, but holding hands. It felt so natural to hold the man's hand, it made Peter feel somehow... safe.

"So did I. Maybe we could do it again sometime?"

"Oh yeah, I'd like that a lot. Maybe a proper dinner next time?"

Peter raised an eyebrow. "Will you let me pay for at least half of the bill?"

"You're going out with a billionaire and you seriously want to pay the bill?"

"Yes! I'm not going out with you for your money, Tony. I want you to know that. So next time, you'll let me pay."

"If that's what you really want then okay."

When they got back to Peter's apartment, Tony took the younger man's chin between his fingers and tilted it to the side so he could kiss his cheek. Peter blushed deeply and smiled awkwardly. "Thank you so much for today, Peter. I'll see you later."

"Thank you as well. See you."

He watched Tony get in his car before he opened the door, getting in as he heard the engine start. He waved through the window at Tony as he drove away before twirling around twice. Something so unlike life just happened to him and if he was dreaming, he'd give everything for it to never end.

@staticwhispersinthedark wanted to be tagged so here you go!