#with your big brown eyes and doe-like features. okay pretty boy. fuck off.

[s1ld3n4f1l]

wilbur soot is so pretty i hate him

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Little Rain Cloud 🖤

Summary; Yn arrives at Hawkins high and captures the eye of Eddie. Sarcastic and blunt she makes her way into Eddie's heart and he slowly makes his way into hers

Warnings; None really, swears.

Also includes this request by an anon

Hi! I just got an idea where Eddie and reader go to prom and she does the dance from the show Wednesday she has Wednesday’s personality too and Eddie is totally into it. Idk how to explain

Likes or reblogs are always appreciated and reblogs especially are extremely helpful💖 I don't give anyone permission to copy my work.

On a stormy morning in early October, a new girl called yn arrived in Hawkins and to Hawkins high.

The new girl was dressed all in black, ignoring the stares and whispers of the students as she walked down the hall and to her assigned locker.

English with Mrs. O'Donnell is first and as she enters the classroom one of the boys laughs.

"Check out Dracula's bride. Hey, new girl. Gonna bite me?" the neanderthals next to him chuckle along with him.

Her stone cold glare silences them.

"No thanks, I have taste you know" that silences them and she takes the empty seat next to a perky brunette who's called Robin.

"Hi, I'm Robin, it's so nice to meet you, you're the new girl yn? The last new people here were Max and her brother Billy but less said about him the better... Because he's totally a jackass but he kinda redeemed himself and... She stops herself, sorry I'm babbling aren't I?"

"I had an uncle who did that once, wouldn't stop talking" she replies to Robin who raises her eyebrows.

"I'm sorry had?" Robin inquires.

"His wife cut out his tongue and fed it to her pet pig" Robin's eyes widen.

"Sorry about your uncle" yn shrugs.

"I was more upset for the pig" Robin bursts out laughing and yn smiles, hmm this girl seemed okay, a little chatty for her tastes but nice enough.

"Mr Munson, so nice of you to join us," Ms. O'Donnell says to a boy who's just arrived. He looks a little bit older than the kids in class but not by much. A year or two?

He has shaggy dark hair, big brown eyes and is dressed in jeans, a leather jacket, a denim vest, and Reebok trainers, a sheepish smile adorns his features, he has dimples when he smiles.

His eyes briefly connect with hers and he stares at her looking stunned for a second.

She can't seem to take her eyes off those dimples. Unnerved by this she concentrates on the work that is being handed out.

🖤

It isn't until lunch a few days later that Eddie is introduced to her. The new girl who he first saw in Ms O'Donnells class.

Normally he wouldn't believe in love or first sight or that shit but he knew without a doubt he was captivated by her.

She's coming into the cafeteria with Robin, dressed in a black pleated skirt, and a band t-shirt his heart skips a beat when he notices it's Iron Maiden, she's wearing black boots with a heel that looks like they could cause some damage if used.

He can't stop staring at her, at those pretty eyes and gorgeous hair. She's close to his table and he thanks his lucky stars when Robin stops to say hey.

"Hey, uh who's your friend?"

"Yn and you are?"

"Eddie, Eddie Munson, hey it's cool that you like Iron Maiden. I'm a big fan as well"

"I prefer Metallica but they are a close second" that's it. He's pretty fucking sure he is making love heart eyes now.

"They are my favourite too, can play a few of their songs on my guitar off by heart now" she sits down.

"Fascinating. Would you teach me to play? I'm a fast learner"

"I'd love to" he stammers out and Gareth kicks him under the table.

She sits for a full ten minutes discussing songs with him until Robin tells her they need to go and get lunch.

He watches her go and his heart is racing in his chest, he can't wait to talk to her again.

🖤

Eddie is her new partner for Bio. Thank God, the last one was an imbecile who spent more time trying to stare at her chest than do some work.

The staring only stopped when she threatened to nailgun his testicles, he thought she was joking and laughed.

"In a pinch, a sharp pen will do" she then told him with a smirk and then he requested a transfer to sit with some girl who was fawning over him.

So yes, Eddie was much more acceptable and he had impeccable taste in bands so that was also a win.

It would be easier to concentrate on her work though if the girl called Ali who was sitting beside Jason wasn't talking so loud that she couldn't hear her own thoughts.

"My Little brother took my Barbie, he just took it. Fair enough it was old and stuffed in the attic but still. The little shit always ruins my stuff"

Jason turns to her and there's a cocky grin on his face when he realises she was listening.

"Do you like Barbie dolls too gorgeous?"

"When I was five I took the heads off Barbies and flushed them down the toilet," she tells the girl matter of factly who is sitting beside Jason and she notices Eddie trying not to laugh.

"Oh my God, the poor Barbies" Ali gasps in horror and she shrugs.

"I feel more sorry for the toilet" at that point Eddie can't hide his laughter anymore and yn turns to him, that intense stare draws him in even more.

"Do you find my childhood reminiscing funny in some way?" she asks him and he smiles.

Jason snorts.

"Munson no one asked you for your opinion freak" Yn frowns and adresses Jason.

"I think I can decide who to talk to for myself thanks" Jason's cheeks grow pink.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. Probably wants you to join his Hellfire cult and summon the devil"

Eddie is about to snap back at the asshole when yn speaks up.

"That sounds delightful" Ali and Jason gape at her and Eddie finds himself increasingly smitten with this new girl.

"You can join in the campaign next week if you like?" he hopes she says yes and silently pumps his fist under the desk when she does.

Jason still seethes that she didn't listen and the childish glare on his face annoys her.

Eddie nudges her.

"Don't think many girls say no to him" she rolls her eyes.

"I don't need anyone to watch out for me, I can take care of myself" he nods to her shoes.

"Shit I bet they could do some damage" a smile graces her features.

"Perfectly sharp and lethal, enough to take out an eyeball or testicle of some creep" this vanishes the smirk from Jason's face but amused Eddie to no end.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side"

🖤

"This is a fantasy game, not worshipping. I was gravely misinformed" she tells Eddie unamused as she stares at the dice and figures.

"I did think you were joking. You never brought it up again all week so I thought you wouldn't come, you never mentioned when we were speaking earlier"

Frowning she sits on one of the seats closest to Eddie's.

"We could make you up a cool character and you could try one campaign. See if it's your thing. I like spending time with you" he admits and his admission makes him smile shyly which creates a peculiar feeling in her stomach.

What was this?

Maybe she could ask Robin? Didn't she work at Family Video? She would go there tomorrow to talk to her.

"Maybe like an Elven princess or something like that" she blanches.

"Do I look like a princess type to you?" he grins those damn dimples showing again.

"Maybe a dark sorceress then?" that sounded more like it.

"Yes. Trained in combat with a penchant for knives and archery" she adds on.

Eddie nods along with her and wants to ask if that's based on her but the guys are all eager to play and he is anxious to see how she does.

One hour later she has created her character and entered the D&D universe. Already Dustin has joined her side due to her fierce magic and she's battled with Demogorgons.

Eddie watches her impressed as she rolls the dice once again earning a hit on the monster she's battling.

"You're a natural at this" he beams and his praise has her heart skipping a beat.

All these funny feelings around Eddie were disconcerting. It would be easier if she found him repulsive like Jason. Granted he wasn't unfortunate looking but his personality was subpar.

That was enough for her to decree Carver an idiot, she also didn't like the way he bullied the Hellfire Club, if she was part of this club he would rule the day he made fun of her.

In Eddie's case, she found him interesting in every way, the way he talks, how passionate he is, his love for fantasy and heavy metal.

His absolute insistence that he performed by no one's rules or expectations.

She liked it more than she thought possible.

🖤

The next day is a no go to head to Family Video but she ends up going on Sunday instead.

Robin beams when she sees her and her co-worker a guy with exceptionally perfect hair and hazel eyes looks her up and down and a smile works it's way on his face.

"I got this one, Robin" Robin rolls her eyes and pats Steve's shoulder.

"Not this one bud, a friend is currently smitten" Steve looks confused but heeds what Robin says.

"Judging by your facial expressions something terrible has happened? Are you okay?" Robin asks concerned.

It's only when she tells Robin that her friend stops panicking and teases her.

"Yes I knew it, tell me more. I'll help!"

Robin listens to her patiently as she tells her of her feelings, those funny reactions she gets when she sees Eddie.

"This is some magic Robin, some strange spell" Robin bites back a smile.

"No... it's butterflies, a feeling you get when you're around someone you like. A kinda fluttering in your stomach"

Butterflies?

"I'd prefer bats but go on...

"You like Eddie, like oh he's cute I'd like to kiss him like" hearing Robin spell it out makes her flustered.

She's never had a crush before not really. Robin senses this and smiles.

"Eddie's your first crush huh?" she nods and feels those butterflies again.

"This is absurd. He dazzled me with those eyes and dimples" Robin laughed at this.

"If it helps he's just as smitten as you are. It's pretty obvious when he's making moon eyes at you... Speak of the devil" Robin nods as Eddie comes in the store.

He chats to Steve and meets her gaze walking over to her.

"Hey, sweetheart. Was about to browse the horror section. Wanna join me?" she nods feeling nervous, she doesn't usually feel nervous and that was unsettling.

Those brown eyes weaved magic that was for sure.

"You could join me if you like. I was thinking of watching The Thing or Halloween, something like that?"

Like she ever needed an excuse to watch a horror movie.

"Throw in some popcorn and we have a deal" he agrees.

"Popcorn and Ice cream await if that sweetens the deal?" she nods.

From that moment on they were pretty much inseparable.

🖤

"So uh, I don't know if you realised but the Winter dance is coming up soon. The snow ball" Eddie brings up during their latest movie night where they are watching Nosferatu.

"A ball?" he nods looking nervous.

"Yeah, normally all that conforming bullshit of school dances and shit makes me sick but if you wanted to go... Would be nice"

He was asking her to the Snow Ball the notion sends those dratted butterflies fluttering around her belly.

"If it will stop you looking at me with those for eyes of yours then fine, she softens. I'd love to go with you"

Sheer delight etches on his features and conversation resumes to non dance related subjects.

They both have smiles on their faces all through the movie.

🖤

Robin takes her dress shopping with Nancy both are grinning at her reactions to some of the dresses.

"I feel nauseated. It's like a rainbow and a unicorn puked out this hellscape" she informs them as they begin to set out for dresses.

All hope isn't lost as she finds a gorgeous little black dress with lace trim around the bottom, the neckline is a tad plunging but the dress is gorgeous.

Robin and Nancy each find dresses too and she begins to feel a small frissonn of excitement about this dance.

Not that she would tell anyone that of course.

🖤

Eddie can't believe that he is at the Winter dance with yn, she's so beautiful and looks stunning in her dress.

"Do you want to dance sweetheart?" he asks her feeling a little nervous and she nods. An up-tempo song is playing. Girls on film by Duran Duran.

He would prefer Black Sabbath or Metallica but this will have to do. Plus when yn begins to dance throwing her head back, and doing some very intricate and unusual moves he's more captivated by her than by the music.

He smiles as she rolls her shoulders to the music, moving her body to the beat.

The song ends and a slower one takes its place. She looks at him and a trace of shyness crosses her features but it's gone quickly.

"We can go sit if you like?" he assures her and she shakes her head after a few second.

"No, it's okay" she moves closer to him and he wraps his arms around her as she rests her head on his chest.

They sway to the music and yn can feel her heartbeat speed up. Whenever she is with Eddie her guard drops more and more.

He rests his head on top of hers and she burrows closer into him.

Tilting her head up she looks deep into his big brown eyes and strokes along his cheek.

He kisses her, his lips moving against hers gently then turning more passionate as she deepens the kiss.

When they part he looks spellbound exactly how she feels and she longs to kiss him again moving closer to do just that.

🖤

[lebenspurpur]

{slashers x fem reader who has a blood kink? sorry if this is against ur boundaries u don’t have to if ur uncomfy!!!} submitted by anon but I accidentally deleted the original ask because I am an idiot.

Also darling, you're fine, all my boundaries got destroyed years ago.

Warnings: blood (duh), knives, a lot of cutting, mentions of self-harm and necrophilia.

Also a female reader this time.

Michael Myers

Oh Michael loves it.

Blood always gets this man going, I think we've established that.

Wait a second.

You want to cut him? *slowly backs off*

Yeah, he doesn't necessarily trust you with a knife.

Michael doesn't mind the pain, his pain endurance is way too high for that. It's just that cutting him would be a dominant action. And Michael really doesn't want to give you dominance.

He'll let himself get cut if he can cut you.

Michael is all for period sex if that's your thing. Be careful though, he is not going to be soft just because you're sensitive.

Michael just thrives off of the fact that, not only are you shedding blood, you're very sensitive and you're in pain as well.

A pure sadist, this man.

Vincent Sinclair

Blood? Doesn't that involve you getting hurt?

Vincent is skeptical.

He really, really doesn't want you to get hurt.

It would turn you on?

Hm.

Let's test it first.

Vincent will be very slow and careful, stopping as soon as he thinks something's wrong.

You have to reassure him to get going quite a lot.

After he realizes what effect blood has on your body, he overthinks it again and then consents.

He's going to create a new and very special safe word for this, just in case he ever really hurts you.

He himself doesn't really mind getting cut, as long as it makes you happy. This man would do anything for your happiness.

To be quite honest, Vincent loves the marks you leave on him. He looks at them in the mirror the next morning, a bashful grin painting his handsome features. I am so soft for Vincent please.

Period sex? Are you sure you're not in pain during that?

Vincent isn't grossed out by body fluids, but he won't go down on you during your time of the month.

His problem with period sex is that you're already hurting and he doesn't want to cause further harm.

He's perfectly fine with just fingering you and receiving blowjob though he can do without those if you don't want to until you're off your period again.

Vincent would literally do anything for you and I'm not kidding.

Bo Sinclair

"Woah there sugar... didn't think you'd be into that."

He's a bit surprised in the beginning.

Period sex is a no for him, don't even bring it up. He'll probably vomit already at the word period.

Him cutting you is totally fine and he likes that if you're fine with it.

However him getting cut is not going to happen.

To make it up to you, he can fuck you after he just killed a victim.

He'll thrust into you, fresh dark-red splashes of blood painted on his face.

"Do you like that? Knowing that I fucking killed a guy and then immediately came in here to fuck the shit outta you? I bet'cha do sugar."

Lester Sinclair

B-..blood?

Lester is pretty concerned until you explain it a bit better.

After that he's still concerned.

Hmm, how about animal blood?

Lester just doesn't want to be in pain and he doesn't want to put you in pain.

If you're fine with non-human blood then he's very relieved, having been scared that you'll leave him.

Please reassure your feelings for him or he's going to worry for months now.

Baby Firefly

She's a bit astonished in the beginning. She just didn't expect that from you, out of all people.

But, being a part of the Firefly family, she's totally down for it!

She'll gladly pepper you in little cuts and then suck at them. Baby loves using her tongue on you anyway so it's a win-win situation.

She's also very open for period sex. After all, she's done worse than eat someone out during their time of the month.

Baby is the best at aftercare. She'll make you a hot bubble bath, clean the cuts and she got sparkly pink band-aids for the both of you!

Otis Driftwood

Did you just say blood? *drags you to his torture room*

Otis... is so down for this.

Can he.. like carve his name into your body?

Oh and can he take a picture of you?

Can he take a picture of you next to a corpse?

You just wanted to see him bloody, god damnit.

Period sex is not something he'd insist on doing but he'll never say no to fucking you.

Billy Loomis

You want to do what?

Billy has never heard of a blood kink before. It reminds him of his love for the red substance though.

The only difference is that he doesn't use real human blood.

It takes a lot of coaxing but after a while he might be okay with cutting you a little bit..

After seeing how much you enjoy it, he might let you cut him too.. but not too deep!

Billy would also really enjoy fucking you after coming home from a kill. He'd be drenched in blood, the red fluid clinging to his chest and slowly smearing onto your back.

He smirks as he spreads the red fluid on your perky nipples, watching you throw your head back and moan shamelessly.

Stu Macher

Sure, why not?

Stu is an incredibly adventurous person, even when it comes to sex.

You trust him and he trusts you so where's the problem?

I don't think Stu would actively enjoy a blood kink but he's not going to say no since you asked him so nicely.

The pure facts that you're getting so aroused from a simple liquid is enough to make him turn feral anyway.

Who needs blood when you can have Y/N begging on her pretty, little knees for your cock?

Brahms Heelshire

"No."

"But-"

"I said no."

Yeah no, blood scares him.

It will need a lot of coaxing to even get him to try it.

I don't think he'd like it very much.

But Brahms will gladly kill the grocery-boy for you if you'd like to see him drenched in someone's blood.

Thomas Hewitt

Blood? Sweetheart, what if you get hurt?

He'll gently cradle your face in his big palms, searching for sincerity in your eyes.

Upon finding it, he'll nod and ask you to explain it to him again.

He'll try it for you. If you're going out of your way to ask this of him, he has to try it in his opinion.

He doesn't like the act of cutting to get either your or his blood and he'd rather have the blood to be his.

Tommy is a big, strong man. He can take a few small cuts.

But you're his tiny, sweet Y/N, he can't cut you?!

So yeah, to get him to cut you will be quite a quest.

As soon as he sees your reaction to blood, he blushes, desire clouding in his brown eyes.

Maybe this is a good idea after all.

He'd still have you or him covered in animal blood, rather than human blood.

Thomas doesn't care if you're on your period or not, but he'll immediately stop when you're in pain.

Just relax Y/N, he'll go get a towel and then he'll take care of his "little problem".

Josef

Blood? But why?

Okay, for you, he might try.

He enjoys it more than he originally thought.

Blood has an important meaning to him too and to see it spread all over your pretty body.. just does things to him.

Period sex is not his thing.

I don't even think he knows how periods work.

Amanda Young |TW SELF HARM|

Amanda has heard about blood kinks before and you can not change my mind.

She's down to try it if you both feel comfortable.

However, Amanda has had struggles with self-harm in her past and would therefore prefer you getting cut.

She just doesn't like willingly adding new scars to her collection.

There's something so arousing about you licking her bloody fingers clean, she can't help but press her thighs together.

Period sex?

She isn't the biggest fan of that idea but fingering you is not a problem to her.

She's kind of confused since her cramps are too painful to get aroused during her period.

Her aftercare is also very good. Amanda always has bandages and band-aids stacked away somewhere and she knows how to deal with the wounds she's left

[xxbangchansidedishxx]

Chan X Felix- Tiny Surprise

Tw: size kink, degrading, masturbation, fairies, piss.

Felix flew through the forest, his glass like wings fluttering through the soft summer breeze and his silver blonde hair shimmering as the sun bounced off it. A soft giggle like wind chimes left his lips as he raced the butterfly back to his home. Felix’s place in this world was to heal and protect, from animals to plants a single sprinkle of his magical dust could repair any damage done to them.

He was well known amongst the butterflies and other various species in the forest. His bubbly fun personality made them all feel at peace so it wasn’t unusual for him to play with them and race home.

The two glided through the air before coming to a stop with a sudden ‘thud’.

That’s strange… I never remember there being a tree here. Felix thought to himself before looking up and being greeted by a man.

The small fairy felt panic rise in his chest. He saw his butterfly friend stuck in the material of the mans bag, but there was nothing he could do. He couldn’t risk being seen by the human.

He rushed to hide amongst the petals of a red rose, peeking out ever so slightly to watch the situation unfold as he hoped for the best.

“Aw hello there. Poor little thing.”

The human spoke, gently helping the butterfly free.

A small smile appeared on his lips as the bug fluttered away.

Felix let out a breath that he didn’t know he was even holding. He knew how relentless humans could be when it came to species smaller than them and he was just glad that this human didn’t hurt his friend.

Felix scanned the tall man with his eyes. He had soft orange hair and a handsome kind looking face. He wore a simple black tank top showing off the muscles in his arms and a pair of skinny jeans.

The fairy had to admit that this human was rather beautiful. It had been years since he last saw a human in this part of the forest. His head began to wonder.

What is he doing here? Will he be a threat to my home? What if he sees a fairy? I wonder how it would feel to run my fingers through his pretty hair.

He shook his head trying to forget the thought.

He knew he could never mingle with a human. It was deadly right?

Before he got himself into any more trouble he flew the short distance to his mushroom home before plopping down onto his buttercup sofa and sighing.

He couldn’t get the image of the human out of his head. He seemed different from others he had crossed paths with. Most would have just swatted the butterfly away but this man helped the creature. He closed his eyes letting his head paint an image of how the man looked again. Beautiful. His defined arm muscles. Veins bulging out. He had to be strong Felix thought to himself. If his arms are so pretty and veiny I wonder what his cock looks like? It’s got to be huge. Felix was probably no bigger than his hand but he wondered what it would feel like to be filled up with his big cock.

He had never felt this horny before and it was over a human that he barely even saw for five minutes. He let out a soft whimper as he began to palm at his hard cock with a tiny hand. He tugged at the material of his trousers pulling them down along with his red lace panties letting his cock spring free. He didn’t have the patience to tease himself today. He just needed to cum. He grabbed his length and began to fuck into his hand, his hips rolling back and fourth at just the right pace. Soft moans left his parted lips as he felt his high approach. Images of the human doing the same flashed through his head as he felt his entire body shake with orgasm and ribbons of white release from his cock. He panted , catching his breath feeling tired from his orgasm. He felt his eyes get heavy as he drifted into a sleep wondering what the fuck he had just done.

-The Next Day-

Like every other morning the fairy boy was awoken by the soft sunrise spilling through his windows. He tiredly fluttered over to his mirror to fix his appearance. Stepping out of his stained panties from the previous night and replacing them with a new pair. He wore blue skinny jeans and a black slightly cropped top that showed off his toned abdomen. Looking in the mirror he inspected his face, smiling cutely at his freckles and quickly applying some lipgloss before fixing his hair and heading out the door. Every morning he looked in the close by bushes for berries to make his breakfast. He’s surprised when he sees the handsome man again. He was stood by the bush that Felix goes to, carefully picking the sweet fruits and placing them in a bowl.

‘Wow this human really is weird.’ Felix thought to himself . He has never heard of humans picking berries this early in the morning especially not this deep in the forest. He wanted desperately to know more. It wouldn’t hurt him to follow him right? He wouldn’t go too far. He would just follow him to the entrance of the forest.

He continued to watch the orange haired man from a shorter distance this time. He made sure he was still hidden but this time he could see his features better. On his face there were little freckles scattered around. No where near as many as Felix had but still equally charming.

When the human had finished collecting berries he began to walk along the path home. Not knowing of the little fairy that was following.

A small gasp left Felix’s lips when they arrived at a cottage not far from his own home.

Wow the human lives in the forest?

Maybe…. Maybe it couldn’t hurt to go inside. He wouldn’t stay long he would just study the man a little more.

He followed him through the door taking in the room around him.

It was decorated beautifully. Shades of cream and wood brown made the house feel warm.

He fluttered over to the open kitchen landing on a countertop filled with fresh fruits and he hid behind an apple, peaking out at the man who was looking around his kitchen.

Without any warning the man brought a large hand to grab the apple making the little fairy freeze in terror.

“Oh…um hello.”

The man seemed confused seeing the tiny figure on his counter but he spoke softly.

Felix opened his mouth but he couldn’t reply. Was he going to hurt him?

“Hey hey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. It’s okay I won’t hurt you. What’s your name?”

“I’m Felix.” He spoke timidly.

The large man flashed a bright smile at the fairy, offering a finger for him to shake with his tiny hand.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Felix, I’m Chan. How did you get in my house tho?”

Felix blushed red at the question. How was he going to explain that he had been following him ever since he saw him yesterday? He hung his head in shame.

“I- I followed you home. I didn’t mean to! I just haven’t seen a human around here so I was curious- I promise I’m not weird or anything.”

He rushed to justify his actions making Chan chuckle.

“It’s okay it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. Wow, I never expected to see a pretty fairy in my house today.”

Felix’s heart skipped… ‘pretty’? He thought he was pretty.

“Well I never expected to see a handsome human picking berries from MY bush this morning.”

He playfully teased the man, flying up so that they were face to face.

“So that was your bush huh? No wonder the berries taste so sweet.”

He smirked shooting the freckled fairy a wink making his heart swoon.

Felix stuttered trying to think of a witty response but his brain had shut off completely.

“Anyway Felix. I have to head out again but I’ll be back soon. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. It would be fun to get to know you.”

He walked towards the door giving a small wave as he left.

What the fuck…

Felix was actually in his home… he spoke to him… and they were…friends?

It was too much for the little fairy to process. He needed to rest.

He fluttered around the house searching for Chan’s bedroom so he could lay down.

When he reached the room he was surprised by the size of the bed. It was truly huge.

The pillows smelt like him . Sweet with slight musk.

He drifted slowly into a peaceful sleep.

~

“Mmh please r-right there.” Felix moaned out when he felt Chan’s fingers hit just the right spot.

He incoherently blabbered as each thrust made him come more and more undone.

“You like that hm? Little pretty fairy likes my fingers inside him?”

Lust dripped from the humans voice making Felix blush.

“F fuck I love it so much.”

~

Chan stood in the doorway shocked, watching the scene in front of him. The tiny fairy was lay on his bed slowly palming at his length in his sleep.

Soft whimpers left his lips and his wings twitched with pleasure.

He could feel his trousers begin to get uncomfortably tight and he bit down hard on his lip to control himself.

He should leave. He knew he should but he was drawn to the fairy.

“Ch Chan your cock mmh.”

Felix moaned out in his sleep, his grinding getting faster.

When Chan heard his name he couldn’t take it anymore.

He walked over to the bed carefully sitting down and he lightly shook the Fairy with a gentle finger.

His eyes fluttered open and when he saw the human his face burned red as he recalled the events of his dream.

“You aren’t exactly a quiet sleeper.” The orange haired man chuckled.

“I uh … what do you mean by that?” Felix panicked. This couldn’t get any worse right?

“I never knew a pretty little fairy like you would be so slutty.”

Chan smirked as he began to lightly trace the patterns on Felix’s wings, making little desperate whines leave his parted lips.

“You like that hm? Does it feel good when I touch your wings like this?”

He Changed the direction of his fingers making the fairy gasp.

“P please Chan.”

Felix didn’t even know what he was begging for at this point. He just needed more.

“Use your words darling. What is it you want?”

“Fuck I need your cock please channie.”

Any embarrassment Felix felt was now long gone. All that clouded his mind was lust.

The two stripped them self’s from clothing and Felix looked in awe at the size of Chan’s cock.

It was huge … even bigger than Felix’s entire body. The tip was tinted pink and pre cum was smeared around the slit while pretty veins decorated it.

He brought a hand to slowly run along one of the veins making the human let out a shaky breath. It was almost pathetic how tiny Felix looked next to his cock alone.

“You are so big Channie.” His eyes glowed with want and his mouth salivated at the thought of the pleasure it could give him.

“Hands and knees darling. Let me prep you.”

The fairy did as he was told. He spread his cheeks apart giving Chan a clear view of his little pink hole.

He felt a slick finger rub against it. Teasing him and making him wet.

“So tiny. How is my cock going to fit in here hm? Have you had anything in here before?”

The question made Felix burn up.

“J just my fingers.”

A Yelp left his lips as he felt the finger enter him. Fuck the way it filled him up made him feel as if he was in heaven. He pressed back trying to feel it deeper inside him.

“Someone’s eager. Such a slutty little fairy. All mine to play with.”

He moved his finger faster making the fairy scream out .

“Ch chan I fuck if you keep doing that I’m g gonna cum.”

“Tsk I suppose we better get you on my cock then. I’m not going to miss the opportunity to fill that pretty little hole with my cum.”

The words made Felix shudder. He fluttered over to the mans cock and lined it up with his stretched hole before sinking down, a loud whimper leaving his lips as he felt the head buried inside him.

That’s all he could fit in his tiny little hole.

Chan’s fingers grasped carefully onto the fairy’s hips as he rocked into him.

“F fuck it feels so good. S so big.”

Felix blabbered as he lost himself in the pleasure.

“You look so pretty bouncing on my cock like this darling. So fucked out and pretty. I bet you wish you could fit more inside that slutty little body of yours.”

Felix couldn’t even take in the words being spoken to him. He was too focused on the feeling of Chan twitching inside him. He felt a warm feeling in his stomach and he clenched around the humans cock.

“Going to cum already? How pathetic that my cock makes you come undone so quickly. It’s okay, let go for me my little fairy.”

With those words Felix felt his body begin to spasm and his tiny cock release strings of white. But it wasn’t over yet.

Chan continued to fuck into him, chasing his own high. The feeling was making Felix go crazy. His body shook with overstimulation and he felt like he was going to cum again.

A strangled cry left his lips as his cock released more liquid but this time it wasn’t a milky white. When he realised what he was done he burned with embarrassment.

“Did my little fairy piss himself hm ? Couldn’t hold it until I was done with you.”

Chan began to rock into Felix even harder. He felt his stomach knot up and a low groan left his lips as he released into the fairy.

After catching their breath the human pulled out, admiring the mess he had made of the fairy.

“You look so pretty like that. My cum leaking out of your pretty hole and down your little thighs. Covered in your own piss. Such a slutty little mess.”

Felix whimpered at the words.

“Fuck that was amazing.”

He was almost in disbelief how good it felt.

It was like a flip switched and Chan was back in full caring mode.

He placed a gentle kiss onto the fairy’s cheek.

“I’m glad you felt good darling. How about I clean you up hm? We can watch a movie after too if you’d like? I’d love to get to know you more.”

Felix’s lips curved up into a little smile.

“That sounds great channie!”

Perhaps humans weren’t so bad after all.

In fact Maybe Felix was in love with one.

[psychdelia]

max showed up on his doorstep with blotchy red cheeks and puffy wet eyes, board discarded on his lawn as she pounded on the door with her free hand, holding a shoebox in the other.

“okay, okay!” steve called out as he rushed downstairs. “i’m coming! jeez.” he huffed as he opened the door, ready to bark out a what, shithead? because who else would show up to his place and pound on his door for a minute straight?

except his mouth snaps shut when he sees her shivering in the winter cold and cheeks still damp. it’s been about 4 months since billy died and he hadn’t seen max in this state for a couple months now. he thought things were getting better.

maybe not.

“max.” he frowned. “what’s wrong? what happened? are you okay? are you hurt?” he asked, the panic in his tone increasing with each question.

she just shoved the box into his hands, giving him a determined look. so similar to billy’s. too similar.

“i found this in his room.” he can hear the suppressed tremble in her voice as she fights the urge to cry again. “i never gave it you because i thought maybe,” she frowns, looking down. “maybe he-“ she lets out a shaky breath. “but he never came back so it’s yours now.”

then a switch is flipped and she’s suddenly glaring up at him, yet another expression too similar to billy’s.

“you can’t tell anyone.” she clenches her shaking fists. “if you tell anyone what you find in there i swear to god steve i’ll hurt you.” her upper lip is twitching into a snarl and steve is genuinely scared of this little fiery teenager.

“jesus, max,” he sighs. “first of all, you two are way too goddamn similar for not being blood related.” he ruffles her hair with a free hand. “second of all, you can’t just tell me what’s in here?”

“no.” she shakes her head as she bats his hand away. “just,” she plays with the hem of her jacket nervously. “just keep an open mind.” she frowns. “we’re not from here. things are... different back home.” her shoulders sag a little and he can tell she misses home. misses life before hawkins. “promise you won’t tell anyone?” she looks back up at him.

he frowns as he stares at the box in his hand before nodding. “promise.”

“good.” she nods. she rubs harshly at her face with her sleeve before turning away to walk to the lawn.

“you need a ride?” he calls as she grabs her board. chuckles when she rolls her eyes, tosses back an i can get myself around, steve. then a quick thanks, though. see you around. then she’s taking off.

steve practically sprints up to his room after that. sets this mystery converse box down in front of him on the bed as he sits, unsure of what to expect. maybe porn mags? weed stash? who knows.

so, naturally, he dumps it all out on the bed. stares at the pile of magazines, books, seashells, pictures, papers. the first thing he grabs are the magazines, expecting to see a half naked chick on the cover. he freezes when he finds a half naked man instead, clad in leather.

drummer. drummer. drummer. all of these are the same magazines, different issues with different men. he wonders if they’re targeted towards women, but then he’s opening them up and finding men... with other men. figures maybe hargrove had been holding onto them for someone else because there’s no way in hell these are his. no, no, no. that boy was straight as hell. loved to show off a different girl hanging off his arm every week, made shows of flirting with both girls and women.

but then he’s grabbing a polaroid dated 1983 and it’s billy with shorter hair and fuller cheeks kissing another boy with a big smile and lovesick dopey look on his face.

holy shit. this can’t be real. billy hargrove wasn’t gay. he couldn’t be. he was the womanizer, ladykiller, heartbreaker of hawkins. he loved women and they loved him 10 times more. none of this makes sense.

he grabs the journal next, the leather on the cover worn and threadbare. the first entry is dated from 1983 and the last just a couple weeks before starcourt. right before he got possessed.

steve sets the journal aside, opts to look at the other pictures and items billy had stashed away before he reads about the last three years of the guy’s life. there are a couple pictures of a blonde woman with striking resemblance to billy, the same saint christopher pendant and thick silver ring billy wore present around her neck and finger. some of them feature billy when he was a baby, toddler, kid. he finds jewelry that seems feminine, womanly. figures they must’ve been his mom’s.

there are also some california souvenirs. he finds seashells and movie, concert tickets that read “san diego” on the top. there are also some books steve remembers he was supposed to have read or heard about in school, but also some more he never heard of.

at the very bottom of the box he finds expired makeup and empty hair product. there’s black and dark blue eyeliner and mascara, baby pink lip gloss. nail polish in black, dark red and a deep purple. in some polaroids, the slight sheen of the gloss and his dark, thick lashes are barely visible, but he still catches it.

steve can’t help but chuckle when he finds some candy wrappers and leftover weed grinds at the bottom of the box alongside the butts of joints and empty cigarette packs. marlboro reds. there’s scrunchies, too. shimmery and purple, probably stolen from max.

once’s he’s finished digging through hargrove’s secret belongings, he leans back and sticks his nose in the journal. it takes him the rest of the day and all night to read it from cover to cover.

the beginning is mostly about missing his mom and hating his father, documenting his abuse. there are a few pages about his crushes and boyfriends, allowing him to figure out that the boy he was kissing in the polaroid is named santiago, but billy calls him santi. once he reaches the end of san diego and beginning of hawkins, billy’s tone and messy scrawl is full of hurt, anger, and melancholy.

and then steve’s name pops up. KING STEVE in all caps, taking up nearly half the page. there are hearts around his name, alongside a big drawing of a dick. below, billy writes about feeling like a foolish schoolboy with some stupid crush on some guy with a huge dick he saw in the showers. steve’s already blushing and it only deepens when he gets to the part about billy wanting to feel said dick in his hand, his mouth, inside of him.

he has to take a break after that. doesn’t realize things only get spicier until he gets back to reading and finds out billy’s jerked off and fingered himself open to the thought of none other than king steve. his eyes immediately flick to the half empty jar of vaseline, finger-shaped holes indenting the jelly.

he spends the rest of the night reading about billy’s remorse and guilt towards him and lucas after that night, how billy still wants to hop on his dick and kiss him stupid, his and max’s relationship and how it’s gotten better even though they still blame each other for the move.

it’s both of their faults, steve realizes. billy missed his curfew for a boy and max had no choice but to lead neil to him.

along the way to the end, a couple pictures of steve fall out of the journal. pictures that steve has no idea how billy acquired. some are from school yearbooks, others just random polaroids that might’ve been taken by tommy or carol or jonathan. when he finally reaches the end, he reads about billy’s pool job and plans fo move back to california for college as soon as he graduates.

i know it’s stupid but i’m gonna miss him. his stupid hair and big brown eyes and pretty face and pink lips. i didn’t know anything about the guy but i wish i could drag him out of this shithole and take him home with me. i still haven’t apologized to him. maybe kidnapping him and showing him the ocean would count. but i can’t fall for a straight boy, no matter how big his cock is. i don’t get to fall for someone i hurt. it’s not fair. none of this is fair.

that’s the very last entry. it’s 1am and steve is wide awake. too awake. before he thinks too hard about what he’s doing, he’s shoving everything back into the box and flooring it to robin’s house. he knocks on her window incessantly until she opens it with a glare and he’s pushing his way inside before she can greet him with a snarl.

“billy hargrove was gay and in love with me and-and and jerked off to me and,,, pretended his fingers were mine and his dad was hurting him and his mom left and he was alone, robin.” he’s rambling, eyes wide as he paces the room with the box in his hands.

“he was s-so hurt and alone and no one paid any attention and now he’s dead because of a monster in some town he got dragged to as punishment for being gay and,” his voice cracks. “he’s gone.” he whispers brokenly as he shoves the box into her hands.

robin is very confused and surprised but all she knows is that her best friend is in distress, so she sets the box down and grabs his hands.

“steve. look at me.” she only continues when he does. “sit down and talk to me. let’s go through everything together, okay? just calm down and breathe.”

by 3am robin’s looked through the box and the majority of the journal - steve dog-eared the important pages and she’s a fast reader - and she’s just as shocked as steve, apparently, if her bewildered expression and silence is anything to go by.

“robin? rob, say something.” he urges. “please. i need you to talk to me.”

“holy shit.” she finally raps. “steve, i’m gonna ask you a question and i don’t want you to freak out, okay?”

he nods.

“do you think you could’ve... reciprocated billy’s feelings?”

he opens his mouth to answer but halts, eyes wide and crazy as he stares at her.

“i-“ he gulps. “maybe?” he croaks out. “i-i think so? maybe yeah. yeah.” he nods.

“so you’re bisexual.”

and that’s throwing him on a whole other whirlwind. steve’s had too much thrown at him for the night and he doesn’t have it in him to deal with a sexuality crisis on top of everything.

but billy’s pretty. so fucking beautiful and steve can’t admit it just yet but he wishes he were still here. he wishes he could travel back in time and reach out to billy and save him from the horrors of hawkins but also kiss and fuck and love him properly but now it’s too late and steve and billy have one thing in common.

they’re both alone. lonely. so much love to give but no one to receive or give back.

“bisexual?” he chokes out.

“you like both. boys and girls. like david bowie. and david bowie’s awesome. you’re kinda awesome too, i guess. for a dingus.” she playfully punches his arm and it makes him feel better for all of 2 seconds until it’s hitting him again that the person who wanted to love him is dead. died right in front of him.

“do you have hot chocolate?” she nods. “with marshmallows?” she nods again. “can i have some?”

he feels like he’s about to faint. completely black out. wonders if he looks pale to robin. he needs something warm and comforting and hot coco will do the trick.

———————————

billy comes back in february. hopper and joyce gathered everyone up in joyce’s living room early february. sat everyone down to announce that hop had gotten... a call. a call from some doctor named owens who hop has a history with, the same doctor who helped will.

owens was nursing billy back to health in some secret lab in indianapolis, hence the funeral with no body. apparently billy was in comatose, then a medically induced coma when his brain woke up but he wasn’t strong enough to just yet. then, when he did wake up, he had to relearn how to eat, write, walk in physical therapy, alongside the heavy emotional therapy.

owens hid billy from the world until he was ready to be exposed to it again. then he called hopper one afternoon and told him to come pick the boy up.

max was angry. screamed and yelled until she was reduced to tears in joyce’s arms. the other kids were shocked and confused. didn’t know if they should be happy or scared. will and el were the only positive ones. nancy and jonathan were mostly shocked and indifferent, numb to these crazy surprises the shithole town throws at them. steve and robin just stared at each other knowingly, a million thoughts racing their minds.

a week later they were all in joyce’s living room again, nervously anticipating hopper and billy’s arrival. everyone looked up when the doorknob began to jerk and the lock turned, their eyes trained on the door as it opened to reveal hopper standing beside billy.

billy. clad in a big hoodie, gray sweats and converse. the same ones that were once in the box steve has hidden under his bed. his hair is long now, flowing freely and curling wildly at the ends, looking so soft with the lack of product. he looked tired, fading blue bags under his eyes. he hadn’t lost his tan, steve noted, and looked a little softer around the stomach and legs. for someone who went through all the shit he did, billy looked good. healthy.

max got to him the second he stepped inside, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. he immediately clung to max, holding her tight and whispering a shaky, wet hey, shitbird, only audible to her, resulting in her wet laugh. the siblings stayed like that for a few moments before pulling away to let billy see and greet everyone.

joyce had demanded they all not coddle billy because it would be suffocating and he probably couldn’t deal with that. except now she was serving and feeding him a million things, coddling him just like any other mother would. billy was hesitant and tense at first, but slowly relaxed, especially when he was given cookies.

sweet tooth, steve distantly remembered. billy has a sweet tooth, if the candy wrappers and lollipop sticks in the box were anything to go by.

everyone takes turns greeting and talking to billy. steve’s last in line to have his quick one-on-one with the guy and by the time they’re face to face, everyone’s sitting together, talking and laughing and eating.

“hey,” steve greets with a small smile. he can feel robin’s eyes on him and not-so-slyly flips her the bird, his eyes trained on billy and only billy. “it’s good to have you back.”

“you know you don’t have to say that, harrington, especially if you don’t mean it.” billy tries to joke but his eyes and smile are sad. “i only died for, like, two minutes. not a big deal.”

“shut up, man.” steve rolls his eyes and chuckles. “i do mean it.” he chews on his bottom lip nervously, doing a quick scan of the room to make sure there are no eyes on them before he looks back to billy.

then he’s reaching out and grabbing billy’s hand. running his thumbs over the scars along his palm and knuckles. he looks up to find billy confused and blushing. he smiles before pulling billy into a tight hug.

“you look good. so good.” steve whispers in his ear, getting a whiff of generic coconut shampoo. he has one arm wrapped tight around billy’s waist, holding him close with their bodies flush. he slides his free hand down and rests it on billy’s ass, barely squeezing. he chuckles when billy jumps a little.

“harrington.” billy chokes out, voice wrecked. “what’s your hand doing on my ass?” steve can feel billy’s lips moving on his neck and it makes him shudder.

“just doing what i should’ve done a while ago.” he sighs, content, just holding billy’s warm, very much alive body close to his.

“if you wanted to get in my pants, pretty boy, all you had to do was ask.” billy flirts with a smirk steve can feel on his neck. then he pauses. “you’re not fucking with me?” he asks, tone serious.

“nuh uh.” steve shakes his head. “actually, uh,” he pulls away just enough to meet billy’s eyes. “max gave me your shoebox.” he watches as billy’s eyes widen and go fiery. “hey, no, don’t get mad at her. it’s not her fault. she didn’t know you were comms back.” steve reasons. “plus, now i know big bad heartbreaker billy hargrove has a crush on little ole me.”

“who says i still do?” billy raises his eyebrows, as if his hands aren’t tightly holding onto steve’s shoulders and he’s not blushing and making heart eyes at the guy.

steve’s not too bright, but he knows when people have a crush on him. he’s always been bright in the language of love. and sex, for that matter, as billy will eventually find out when he inevitably get lovingly and romantically railed and fucked into steve’s mattress later that week.

“just have a feeling.” he shrugs, giving billy’s ass one last squeeze before he rests his hands on his hips with a grin.

[hoodieofholland]

Could you maybe do the reader is a famous actress and Tom is not famous and he used to make fun of her in high school and when he sees her he tries to apologise and ends in fluff😊

A/n: ooookaay, this went with a bit of enemies to lovers lol. I went through this shit in school, and I’m grateful that I learnt to deal with it later, I hope to everyone who has gone through it too that they feel good now :)

Warnings: mentions of bullying, language.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry!"

You almost can't register everything that has passed through your eyes, until a croissant falls from your hand. The food in now laying on the ground of your favorite cafe, a pout of irritation forming on the corner of your lips before you can see the man who has bumped into you.

"Oh, God, I'm really sorry. Hey, man, can you please- yeah, thank you", he's talking to one of the employees, who's heading to clean the mess now. "It's my fault, miss, let me pay you another- y/n?"

You finally lift your gaze towards the man in front of you, eyes huge as he takes a look at you, recognizing your features from so many years ago. And also for a recent poster he just saw in one of the bus stops while walking down the street.

"Uh, yeah, hello", you force a smile, too driven by the incident, but afraid to be rude with someone who might just be a fan. But there's something so familiar on his face that you can't bring yourself to remember immediately. The crooked nose, thin lips, and some more wrinkles by his eyes, more than you could remember-

Thomas. Your classmate from high school...

... or should you refer as your bully from high school?

"Tom?", you gasp in surprise. He smiles at you.

"Oh, you remember", he chuckles, shoving his hands inside his pockets. "Haven't seen you since school. I mean, personally. I think I have seen you everyday for the past couple of weeks".

You blush, lowering your head as a soft smile makes its way to your lips. You remembered Tom very well, not only because he was one of the prettiest boys in your school, but also because he used to make fun of you. A lot.

"Yeah, I think we never forget about the ones who impact on you the most", you say under your breath, but he still can hear it. A pout is visible on his lips, as a frown on his forehead.

"About that, I guess I never really told you how sor-"

"Oh, my God, it's y/n y/l/n!", a girl shout, holding her phone firmly on her hand as she makes her way towards you. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but can I take a picture with you?"

You turn your head towards the girl and smile. She's not much younger than you, has sparkles in her eyes and a light pink on her cheeks. You should be used to his kind of approach by now, since your last album was a hit by the end of last month, when it was released. Still, you found it exciting every time a person asked you to take pictures because they appreciated your work.

"Sure", you say, holdind your cup of coffee on your hand and trying to deal with the bags from your recent shopping on the other. Watching you struggle a bit, Tom offered his help.

"Here, lemme take it", he takes the bags and the coffee on his hands and step out of the way.

You prepare for the camera and when you realise, the girl is taking several selfies with you.

"Oh, God, thank you so much!", she cheered when she was done. "I just wanted to say that your songs really touched me, I went through the same things in high school and it was incredible the way you put it all in an album".

"Thank you", you giggle as she hugs you a goodbye. "Hope you have a nice day".

The girl walks out of the cafe, a huge grin of satisfaction on her face, and you are left with Tom by your side.

"That was cool", he says, still holding your things. You look at him and see his warm smile towards you. It made something click on your brain, an old memory, from when he made a joke about you signing down for the talent show in your school.

It was written in one of your songs, never letting your forget about that. Just a small line about a certain guy who made fun of your dreams back then. You didn't really care that much now, neither when you were in high school. You were brave, and that's what people most liked about your lyrics.

Remember when you told me I was silly trying singing?

"Yeah, it was", you give him a small smile and reach for your things. "Well, it was nice seeing you again-"

"Wait, uh..." he scratched the back of his neck. "I still own you a new croissant", his voice was rushed and his cheeks were blushing.

"No, it's not a big deal. It's okay, you don't have to-"

"I insist", he raises a brown. "For old times, c'mon. It's not every day we bump into our old classmates".

You take a look at you watch to check the time. You still had a couple of minutes until your next duty, so you shrug. "Why not?"

You spent the next thirty minutes sitting in a small table, with light chatter and even laughter. You and Tom talked about the last school year, about some other classmates and the ones you keep getting in touch.

"Well, I didn't attend to the prom anyways, so...", Tom chuckled sheepishly at some point, averting his gaze to his cup of tea.

"And why not?", you tilted your head, curious about why one of the most beautiful boys in school didn't go to the most expected night of school.

He coughed a bit. "I didn't- uh, the girl I wanted to go with didn't go, so... yeah. I rather be at home back then".

You frowned, "Did you invite her? Cause I can't see any girl declining your invitation to stay home instead".

Tom smiled shyly and bite his lips. "Guess I'm the one to blame. Didn't have the guts to ask her".

"Really?", you arched your brows in surprise. He shakes his head yes. "That's a shame".

"You didn't go neither, so you can't say anything about me", he said playfully and you laughed, but it happens that you realised you never told him that.

"How do you know I never went to the prom?", you ask, a trace of a questioning smile on your lips. His smile fades away, being replaced by a frown.

He takes a few seconds to speak again.

"Y'know, I listened to your album. It's great, really good", he says, hesitating. "And there's this one song, where I thought that the lyrics sound very personal and kinda... it kinda sounded like yourself, for what I remember from all this time ago".

Your breathe comes in a sharp, "Yeah, I- I know which one you're talking about".

He stared back in your eyes, "Is that about me?"

You freeze. The answer is easy, but you didn't want to hand it to him. "No. Not really", you clean your throat. "There were a bunch of people who said those things to me-".

"Yeah, but do all of them have brown eyes, thin lips and...", he chuckles, turning his head down for a second, "... a slit on his eyebrow?"

You gulp, those were, in fact, parts of your lyrics. It was an obvious description of Tom. You could never forget how you spent hours of your day hating each one of those parts of him, but any time he would give you the tiniest smile when nobody was looking, you would list all these things in a different tone.

Frustrated, you grab your bags and makes a move to get up. "If you asked me to sit with you just to make fun one more time, then you didn't listen to my song carefully. It does not drive me mad anymore, Thomas".

"What? Hey, no!", his pupils were huge and he quickly touched your wrist, silently asking you to sit down again. "No, darling, I didn't mean it that way. 'M sorry".

You face him, breathing heavily as you tried to calm your nerves down. "Please, sit. Let me tell you something. If you don't like it, then you can go".

You raise a brow in suspicious, but sit back anyways. There's nothing he could say that would hurt you, you tell yourself.

"Well, go on", you hurry him up. He nods one time.

"What I meant is that... I felt like a jerk when I listened to this one, but not only because I realised the impact of the things I told you. Mainly because- because I realised that you never knew why I said those things to you. I saw... that maybe you did have feelings for me too, back then".

A moment of silence is settled between the two of you, Tom's ears getting red.

"What?", you breathed out. "Feelings for you too? What do you mean?"

He chuckles sheepishly, "Well, you didn't know that I had a crush on you?", he scratched the back of his neck. "I thought it was pretty obvious. My friends always said that, and I- I was kinda mad that you didn't like me back, so kept saying those things to you. It wasn't nice of me, but I was a kid. Anyways, I'm really sorry about that".

You blink a few times, unaware of what to say. For a moment, you thought that maybe he was just playing around with you, but you could see by the frown on his brows, the look on his eyes, that he was being sincere.

Tom laughs to ease the thick tension between you. "Sounds silly now, doesn't it?"

"So I was the girl? I was the girl you didn't invite to prom?", you ask lowly, and he nods a couple of times.

"Yeah. I thought that you would find me ridiculous. Y'know, you were kind, and talented. After that presentation of yours everyone thought you were cool and all. And I just lost courage".

Your heart sink in your chest, remembering the moments you spent thinking that Tom Holland hated you. And then you remembered the times you were sitting in the library, studying for the exam for next day. Tom sat in a chair beside you, there were not really many people around. He would say something like "hey, nerd, what you doing?". You would throw something near "fuck off" or "leave me the fuck alone", and the smugness would drop out of him. He would insist a couple of times until you ignored him, and he would walk out.

"You didn't answer me".

You blink, being taken from your memories. Tom is staring at you with worried eyes.

"About what?"

"Do you forgive me? For what I did and for what I said", he murmurs, playing with the napkins over the table.

You stare back, watching his wrinkles and the frown, the slit on his eyebrow and his deep brown eyes. His thin lips pressed in a tight line. Yeah, that was Tom, from your school. The one who used to make fun of you and now listened to an album based on the feelings you grew along the time you spent with him.

You smile a little, feeling a warm yet good pressure on your chest. "Yeah, we can see about that".

……………………………………………………………

[whosjunglejim4322]

Warnings: werewolf!au if u couldn’t tell, size kink, fingering, hints towards switch xuxi, big wolf boy in luv, reader is on the pill theoretically, mentions of yukhei being insecure, yall in love btw it’s sappy, he cums inside you

Werewolf Yukhei never thought that a person, a human of all creatures, could make him feel so delicate. Your hands are indescribably soft as they cup his warm face, your mouth concise and rythmic with each brush of your lips against his.

It's shockingly easy to be this way with you, the two of you lying together on his couch like a pair of tangled roots, his head just slightly lower than yours as he wraps his strong arms around you further.

He's always been too big, in height and stature. His lumbering limbs have always carried him with a sort of saunter, and though his face may be pretty, once people found out he was part wolf their adoration always fizzled into condemnation.

But you, you.

As someone who had coexisted with shapeshifters nearly all of your life, with close family friends ranging from Werewolves- like him - to Vampires, and even some Fae, he shouldn't have been surprised when you treated him as though he was no different than anyone else you'd ever interacted with.

He still remembers the first time he kissed you, in his car after the sun had already decided to rest and give the stars a chance to say hello to the onyx sky. He had wanted to do it all night, the need becoming an overwhelming knot in the pit of his abdomen.

He and his wolf alike were struck with the immediate sensation of buzzing all throughout his veins, and when he pulled away, he could see the reflection of his topaz orbs in your eyes, glowing.

He almost immediately covered his face, head in hands as he began to furiously rub at his sockets, willing the fire to go out behind his irises. He had almost seemed angry at himself, borderline disgusted and then your hands were gripping his wrists with a softness he had never experienced- you said his name as if it were something to be admired.

Something in him had felt defenseless, like he couldn't bear to pull away from you and see the sad pout that would surely form on your pretty lips.

"It's okay, hey," you brought one hand to his sullen face, soft fingers tilting his his chin towards you. "Open your eyes, it's okay Xuxi."

And he believed you, wholeheartedly. He didn't know why but he didn't care to argue, not when you used such a fond nickname without even a second thought, not when he felt so safe to be himself with you.

So he opened his eyes, not having to see them to know they were still illuminated in the darkness of his car. And your expression, fuck, it made his chest ache.

You inclined yourself towards him as if your body had no other choice, like it was second nature to want to be close to him, to be so enraptured. Your thumbs ever so gently had swept the area underneath his eyes, moving to the highpoints of his cheeks as you sat in awe.

"They're so...they're so pretty, like fireflies in the summer. They remind me of home."

He doesn't think he'll ever forget that. The safety he feels in your arms, like right now, it makes it easy for him to pretend like the world doesn't see him as this illusive predator shifter. Like he's just Yukhei.

You kiss him like he's the only person you've ever wanted, which isn't far from the truth considering the way he never ceases to take your breath away. There is a reverence between you two, and you find yourself kissing him with a bit more fervour as you relish in the fact that you get to hold him so close.

He picks up on the slight change in pace as quickly and as naturally as expected, one of his long legs lifting before he drapes it over your waist. He just needs you closer.

His plush mouth falters for a second, as he pulls away just enough to look up into your half lidded eyes. "Too heavy?" He asks, the rough timber of his voice sending more jolts of heat than necessary, through your abdomen.

"N-no." You hope he can sense that your shakiness is due to the flurry of emotions coursing through you, and not because of uncertainty. The corner of his mouth twitches upwards in amusement and fondess, silently answering your question.

Your lips find each other again as your hand grips the meat of his thigh, absentmindedly rubbing the area and reveling in the way his muscles twitch underneath the fabric of his basketball shorts. 

This small action has him accidentally groaning into your mouth, long fingers finding the softness of your hips as he pulls you as close as the space will allow.

You don't miss the feel of his stiff erection against your belly, or the way his wet tongue has become more curious as to how your mouth tastes. When your hands wander further up the expanse his lithe body and discover a searing hot patch of skin that has been exposed due to his shirt lifting, your fingers are quick to explore further.

It's not like you did it on purpose, ever so slightly raking the blunt of your nails up his side before exploring the firm, lean surface of his abdomen- it's just as much of a natural urge as it is for him to be rutting against you, like he is now.

You're sure you heard a growl rumble in his throat, and you're elated to see that he's just as worked up as you are- enough to not even notice and have time to scold himself.

For a second, your eyes meet, noses still touching and kiss bitten lips only a few inches apart as you catch your breath.

This time, a ruby set of irises stare back at you, and you know enough about his kind to recognize that this is either due to hunger, lust, or anger. And since you're almost certain he's not angry, and also know that werewolves rarely ever get hungry for prey while they're in human form, the last option is as clear as the obvious lust that is decorating his bronze features.

And so you kiss him again, hard.

He isn't as controlled as he was before, not scared to give in to his hormones or the desires that have him struggling to remain fully here. He's just so captivated by you, the sweet yet ambrosial scent that clings to your skin, the way your body perfectly curls against his.

He can smell your intoxicating arousal as it leaks into your panties, cock jerking in his shorts as you both explore eachothers skin underneath your clothing. He feels the thunderous beat of your heart against his own broad chest, along with the hardening bud of your nipples through your shirt.

"I want you...want you to be mine." He's breathless, which is hard to believe given his supernatural state, but he can't seem to speak in complete sentences. The energy between you two feels as if it's about to burst and ignite a flame. You feel it all over your body.

His raven hair is mussed by this point, skin hotter than a furnace damn near, eyes glossy. Something in you knows that he's not just talking about sex, the way he's looking at you.

His dick is pulsing against you, massive, inviting hands wandering your body as yours are his - but he speaks like he can't bear to let you go.

You quickly wrap your hands around the nape of his neck, soft hair tickling your fingertips as you bring him back in for another passionate kiss, his body shifting as he finds himself crawling on top of you.

The position switch makes it even harder for him, you're so soft, so beautiful as you gaze up at him and paw at his broad shoulders.

Your thighs are open and wrapped around his trim middle, the feeling of his dick against your center all the more tantalizing this way. It doesn't help when he does that thing where he ever so slightly- but purposefully- grinds his hips into yours as if he knows exactly where you need it. You almost forget you're both still clothed.

"You can have me, you know...I want you too." And it's the truth, you've never felt like this, he's so rare, so beautifully unaware and you want him in every way there is to want someone.

His eyes are back to his natural deep shade of chocolate brown, earnest in their surprise and incredulity.

"You really mean it?" You almost laugh in disbelief, wondering how someone like him can be so oblivious to your wide eyes of astonishment everytime you so much as glance at him.

But you know it's not because of his appearance, no, he's aware of how people look at him, how they naturally seem to gawk and wonder how a person can be unnaturally exquisite.

Still, you remind him. "Yes, of course you silly, silly boy."

And you're breathless again, his deft fingers moving down between your bodies to slip underneath the waistband of your leggings, swiftly pulling them off in an inhumanly fast motion.

Your compliance is immediate, a whine slipping past your lips as cool air breezes against your center, your hands clawing at his loose tee shirt in a haphazard attempt to remove it.

He reluctantly pulls his mouth away from yours to sit back on his haunches, lifting his lithe arms behind his back to pull the garment off of his body.

You're not prepared for the way your belly swirls with a new, overwhelming sense of lust at the sight of him so bare. He's warm, and firm yet smooth and inviting- you almost don't register the fact that he's too distracted to notice your reaction.

Not until you feel the warm pad of his thumb rub your swollen clit, both of you realizing, together, that you decided to forgo underwear.

He's got his free hand grasping the inside of your left thigh, holding it open as he practically salivates at the sight of you.

It's too much, for the both of you. There's so many sensations sending your nerves haywire, every inch of your skin tingling with warmth and desire. He can't believe you're so pretty, and his, and the awestruck, hungry expression that's on his face is what prompts you to reach out and grasp his sturdy hips.

"Please fuck me, Yukhei," he's pulled out from a trance into a new one, his eyes catching sight of the agonizing need inside of yours. "want you really bad."

It's unfair, the way he slips two of his long, delicate fingers inside of your aching heat as he leans down to kiss you like a man starved.

You moan properly, and loudly this time, the compelling sound sending him into overdrive as you find yourself suddenly being fucked by his fingers at a near bruising pace.

Even so, he knows what he's doing, and you have to grip onto his daunting shoulders for dear life while he curls the dexterous digits inside of you, touching your cervix and nudging your sweet spot.

He revels in it, the way you look like you're falling apart. His skin blazes to a new temperature and you're leaking onto him like a sweet dessert, soaking his palms. He can't help but to groan.

"Gotta get you ready if you're gonna take my dick."

The words alone leave you clutching after his thick forearm as he pumps into you, slowing his minisrations out of fear that his words might send you over the edge. He doesn't even mean to sound so filthy, at first. Until he realizes how quickly it almost made you lose it.

"Please, please give it to me now."

He sees how badly you need it, can feel it in the form of slick between his knuckles, and if he's honest he's not sure how he's lasted this long either- so he bashfully slips his fingers out of you and pulls his shorts past his knees, not patient enough to get them all the way down.

You see now why he needed to insert his fingers first. He's big. Long, a girth that would be painful if it were any more than what it is. But nonetheless, it's pretty, like the rest of him. The tip is the same, deep muave of his lips, and you reach out for it, needing to touch him as intimately as he has touched you.

He shudders, entire body twitching in pleasure as you wrap your hand around him. Your hand is so much softer than his, and he whines, a sound that has you clenching around nothing. His expression is one that you wish you could photograph just to relive the memory over and over on days when you two aren't together.

"Want me to fuck you now, baby?" You nod fervently, cheeks blazing at the nickname and the softness in which he speaks it. His eyes seem to light up as he leans down to kiss you, allowing himself to absorb every detail of the moment, not wanting to miss even a second.

As soon as his tip passes your entrance, you both know you're fucked. It feels too good, too fast, the stretch is intense but seems to add to the stimulation since your wetness makes the insert easy.

When he bottoms out, he forces himself to stay still for a moment as he holds himself up by his forearms, his face shoved in the crook of your shoulder, lips on your throat.

You feel him pulsing inside of you, and you purposely squeeze your walls around his thick length, whimpering in his ear.

"Please, please move Xuxi."

He doesn't make you wait another minute, sliding himself almost all the way out before pistoning himself back in, jolting you in the process.

He starts his pace, and you're not sure how long you're going to last with the way he's moving, like his hips are speaking to you in some other language all together. He's magnetic, curling his pelvis upwards each time he thrusts back into your sopping entrance.

"Fuuuuck, I'm all the way up there baby." He groans in astonishment, though it's like everytime he speaks your body reacts automatically.

You wrap your arms around his familiar shoulders and hike your thighs up further, prompting him to slip his hands underneath your knees and hold you like this, the position allowing him to fuck you with a new depth.

He refuses to move his mouth away from you still, his messy hair tickling your forehead as your mouths move with fervour.

The sounds in the room are lewd, the collision of your hips and his thick cock slipping in and out of your entrance, along with the smacking of your lips. It's hard to believe that it's all really happening.

"You feel-oh fuck you feel s-so good."

He falters only for a moment as he pants, losing focus as the sound of your voice sends chillbumps to rise across his skin. He hates that he's so close, trying his best to hold on, but you wrap around him so perfectly. He swears you are made for him.

"Gonna cum soon, I can't hold it." His voice trembles this time, and you cling onto him just as desperately as he clings to you, legs locked around his hips. His cock throbs with the need to release, and the sound of your voice as you whimper doesn't help.

"You're so big, Xuxi." The words tumble freely from your mouth, your tongue not able to be held as you look down in between your bodies to see him dissapearing inside of you.

It's like nothing he's ever felt, its all consuming, and even the wolf inside of him is wondering where in the hell you came from, to swoop him up and dazzle him like you did. He's never felt this type of pleasure before, it romances every nerve in his body, turns him into jelly.

It's when he thrusts at a particular angle and your face contorts into an image of pure bliss, tears of ectasy brimming in your glossy eyes, that he feels the coil in his belly finally unravel.

He stills as his lips part, the tip of his dick nudged against your cervix as he fills you to the brim, twitching as he lets out soft, sporatic moans through each sloppy thrust.

"F-fuck- mmm- oh fuck."

His seed is more abundant than the average human male, spilling from you generously and soaking your thighs. The feeling of being so stuffed along with the realization that he's whole and in your arms and you're both connected like this- it has you spiraling down after him.

You feel a warm tear fall down your cheek, the pleasure taking your breath- and your words- away for what seems like the hundredth time in just a short hour. It courses through your entire body and has your hips bucking slightly, skin sensitive to the touch.

He holds you through it, allows you to rock yourself against his half hard cock as you ride your high, his lips suckling any expanse of skin they can find.

He doesn't dare pull out yet, he's too content like this, and you haven't complained about his weight atop of you yet, so he selfishly allows himself to lie his head against your shoulder - button nose nudging your jaw- as your fingers run through his hair.

His arms wrap around your body like a cocoon, and you've never been so comfortable with somebody like this, the contact making you drunk.

"I always knew, you know." His voice is low and sleepy, his lilt genuine. Your breathing begins to syncronize, your fingertips tracing halfhearted patterns against his warm, soft back.

"What's that, hmm?" You reply, curious and with heavy eyes, heart nearly bursting with the adoration you feel fluttering in the pit of your belly.

He kisses your skin once more, gently, almost featherlight.

"That you'd be the one I fall in love with."

[jinkicake]

You Call Him Daddy?!

Their daddy kink gets exposed in front of the team.

Iwaizumi Hajime x Reader

Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

This is much like my other ‘daddy prompt’ for Asahi and Bokuto. Anon who requested these mfs, I love you. I live for Iwaizumi Hajime.

SMUT 0.o </3

WC- 1,660

~~~

Iwaizumi Hajime

Iwaizumi… he is so difficult, my precious little hedgehog

It would be his best friends to expose him….

He’d be so embarrassed like his face would get all red and his mouth would go dry

This would make it even funnier for members like Makki

It’s a random afternoon you’re eating lunch with your boyfriend, Oikawa, Makki and, Mattsun

You and Oikawa are talking about the homework you have to finish and the project you two are working on

You’re leaning on Iwaizumi’s shoulder, curled up into his side

Makki and Mattsun are talking about some porn video from the night before

“and then she called him daddy, like what the fuck” Mattsun rolls his eyes as he continues to shovel rice into his face

You subtly stiffen against Iwaizumi

“shut the fuck up that’s hot, you know that's hot” Makki narrows his eyes and pulls his phone out “you didn’t send me the link shithead? Seriously?”

“no, it was bad anyways”

“damn” Makki’s face falls

You have to stifle your laughter at the hurt written on Makki’s face, the stench of dejection radiating off of him

“You know who’d have a daddy kink? Kyoutani” Makki comments and you nearly spit out the drink in your mouth

“You agree (Y/N)?” The dumbass turns to you and Oikawa agree for you

“Literally.” The captain nods his head as he occupies himself with the bento in front of him before choosing his next words not so subtly “I bet Iwa-chan does too, look at him, he’s such a brute”

“Good luck (Y/N)” Makki puts his hand on your shoulder sympathetically and Oikawa sends you a sad smile

“How are you just gonna out him like that dude?” Mattsun flicks the setter’s head and Oikawa lets out a dramatic cry, you continue to carefully watch the scene in front of you

“Oh come on like (Y/N) didn’t know already, you saw her neck that one time!” Oikawa defends himself while Makki nods his head in agreement

“That’s true, but doesn’t that mean (Y/N) would have a daddy kink too?”

Slowly, three heads turn towards you and you flinch under their stares

“I-I don’t have a daddy kink” You stutter and feel your cheeks heat up under their stares, Oikawa simply looks at Makki who nods back at him before he turns to Iwaizumi

“Iwa-chan does (Y/N) call you daddy?” Oikawa’s brown eyes narrow intimidatingly and Iwaizumi stares back at him, silent except for one dead giveaway that only Oikawa knows “OHMYGO-“

Then all chaos breaks out on the roof, the three boys rolling on the floor

There are literal tears welling up in Makki’s eyes and Mattsun simply shakes his head disapprovingly while trying to hide his laughter

“Honestly Iwa-chan, I know when you’re lying and you know it too so I don’t know why you insist on doing it” Oikawa comments while clutching his sides, the public humiliation making his insides weak

You can only watch, heart beating in your ears as you turn to look at your boyfriend

Iwaizumi is quiet, red in the face, and utterly embarrassed but the shyness that overtook him is so endearing

You can only squeeze his hand in support and patiently wait for Makki to stop laughing

Even a week later, he is still laughing

“You like when daddy is touching you?” Iwaizumi slowly drags his large palm up your thigh, opening your legs to run his fingers through your folds. You can only bite your lip as you try to hold in any noises and Iwaizumi gently slaps your clit when he notices. “Don’t hold back for daddy, you know better.” He warns before bringing his attention back to your clit, his fingers draw soothing circles against the little nub and your legs twitch when he just out his tongue to wet his bottom lip. “Keep still baby,” You let out a whine in protest. “I know you can.”

Iwaizumi is so soft, he makes sure each of his movements wrecks the pleasure out of you. He brings up his other hand to pull your folds apart before leaning his head down and catching all the essence that spilled out of you onto his tongue. Iwaizumi lets out a loud moan when his tongue caresses your sweet walls and he makes it a show to loudly slurp it all up. He knows damn well what the lewd noises do to you. Your chest is falling and rising so quickly as you watch him and your back arches when he looks up at you, showing you how he swallows it all. Your eyes close shut for a quick moment before he sends another sharp slap to your clit.

“Always watch me, pretty baby.” Iwaizumi stares up at you hard and you nod your head, the whimpers spewing from your lips as he continues to deliver harsh little smacks. “I know you love it, fuck, I’ll just have to reward my good little girl.”

Kuroo Testurou

Kuroo would be so smug about it, even though deep down he is such a big dork, he’d live for it

He would not care that he just revealed one of his biggest kinks to the entire team

I feel like he would like it, all their eyes staring at him with disgust

He’d look so proud and walk around like the hot shit he is

It was at the tournament to decide who goes to nationals

You were walking around the hallways trying to find where the team was, judging by the text from Kenma they were in some random corner

It felt like you were walking around in circles until you bumped into a young girl

“Oh, I’m so sorry are you okay?” You bent down a little bit so you could speak closely with her

She looked terrified, with her hair pulled out of her face in little pigtails

“I’m lost” She whimpered and you reached your hand out to her “I was just with my daddy a second ago”

“I’m sure we can find who you came here with.” You told her when she gently placed her small hand in her own, at the same time failing to notice the lingering figure behind you “Where’s daddy?”

You try to ask her, jog her memory for anything

Kuroo’s grin widens as he wraps his arms around your waist, bending over you to burry his face into your neck

“Daddy’s here” He kissed your neck and you let out a loud screech before slapping the side of his head

“Kuroo what the-“ You nearly curse but look down at the little girl beside you “What are you doing here?”

“You were looking for me weren’t you?” His eyes shine playfully and you have to refrain from tugging his hair out

You glare at him because you can’t deny it, you were looking for him even before the ‘where’s daddy incident’

The little girl lets go of your hand and blink owlishly up at Kuroo, her face petrified

“I-I’ll just go to the help center” She stammered before turning and running away, nearly tripping on her own two feet

“No, wait!” You tried to call and go after her but she dashed from your sight “Kuroo, what the fuck”

“Don’t you mean daddy?” Yaku asked before gagging as he walked past the two of you and you closed your eyes to not make eye contact with the blonde as he walked past

“(Y/N) you’re pregnant? Congrats!” Lev slaps Kuroo on the back and you open your eyes to watch Kenma drag the first year away by the collar of his jersey

“Wow, we’re going to be godparents!” Inuoka exclaims while running to tell Shibayama

“You’re not in the least bit embarrassed that you exposed us you gross troll-“ You insult as you pinch your boyfriend's bicep

“You weren’t calling me that the other night?” Kuroo teases as he leans his face close to yours, laughing when he notices your eyes following his lips “Don’t be shy baby, daddy will take good care of you tonight”

His voice was so low, so quiet, but in the distance you know you could hear Kenma scream

“Yo, I heard you’re pregnant! Congrats man!” Bokuto calls out loudly as he turns the corner, a wide smile on his face as he sets up a high five for Kuroo

“Bokuto, Kuroo would not be able to get pregnant, (Y/N) would be pregnant.” Akaashi reminds him, trailing behind the captain with the same look of disgust that was on Kenma’s face

If only the ground could swallow you whole

Your head falls back against Kuroo’s shoulder as he thrusts roughly up into you. One of his hands is wrapped around your throat while the other is between your legs, toying with your clit. Each of his movements causes your walls to clench around him, pulsate as if you’ll never recover.

“Daddy loves his little cum slut, yes he does.” Kuroo coos into your ear, nipping at your ear lobe before sucking it into his mouth harshly. “Ah you’re so fucked out, you can’t even say anything. Earlier you had so much to say.” He continues to taunt, purposely thrusting harshly into your core as your head goes light at the pressure on your neck. “Everyone knows now, don’t they? They know who your daddy is.”

Kuroo simply laughs against your ear, the low sound rumbling from his chest and you reach up to grab a fistful of his hair. The hand around your throat grabs your wrist quickly before bringing it back down to your side. His hand then trails up your side and roughly grabs at one of your breasts, tweaking your nipple as you cry out loudly.

“Fuck, daddy please, I’m sorry.” You whimper pathetically and Kuroo tilts his head at this, amusement written all over his features.

“No need to be sorry baby, daddy will make sure to take good care of you.”

[plainlo-inthemorning]

A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!” Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

//

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

[penny-anna]

tulips and carnations

“You have got to stop doing this It’s a waste of money, and time, and, and frankly it’s a waste of flowers.”

“I know,” said Frodo. “I know. But he’s so pretty, Merry. And so nice. And, when I go in we talk about flowers and today he was telling me all about the different colours you can get tulips in and what they mean –”

“I’d say this is getting weird, but honestly it sailed past weird a month ago."

In which Frodo has a small (small!) crush on an employee in his local flower shop and Merry is an excellent wingman, thank you very much.

Ficlet based on this moodboard.

(on Ao3!)

When he came in from the library he found Frodo in the kitchen, thoughtfully arranging a bunch of tulips in a vase upon the windowsill.

“Afternoon,” he said, dropping his book bag on the sofa. “Flowers?”

“They’re nice, aren’t they?” said Frodo, not looking him in the eye. “I thought they’d brighten up the room.”

“I see,” said Merry. “You did it again. Didn’t you?”

Frodo shot him a scandalised look. “No!” he protested. “I, I just happened to take a fancy and thought it would be nice to get some flowers. That’s all.”

“Mm-hm,” said Merry.

Frodo adjusted the tulips. He plucked morosely at a red petal. Turning, he said, “Merry, it happened again.”

“You have got to stop doing this.” Merry gestured at the offending tulips. “It’s a waste of money, and time, and, and frankly it’s a waste of flowers.”

“I know,” said Frodo, taking his face in his hands. “I know. But he’s so pretty, Merry. And so nice. And, when I go in we talk about flowers and today he was telling me all about the different colours you can get tulips in and what they mean –”

“I’d say this is getting weird, but honestly it sailed past weird a month ago,” said Merry.

“It’s not weird,” Frodo said. “I like flowers. I like shopping for flowers. What’s wrong with that?”

“Aren’t you allergic to pollen?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Merry sighed. He composed himself. “Look,” he said. “I’m sure the flower shop boy appreciates your custom –”

“Sam,” Frodo interrupted. “His name’s Sam. He told me. And also it’s, on his nametag. I think it’s a lovely name. Don’t you think it’s a lovely name?”

“Oh my god,” said Merry. “You need to either ask him out or stop going in there.”

“I can’t ask him out,” said Frodo, appalled. “You can’t ask people out while they’re at work, Merry. It’s rude.”

“So stop going in there and hassling him!”

“I don’t want to,” said Frodo. “And, I’m not hassling him. Or I don’t think I’m hassling him. I hope I’m not hassling him.” He shook his head. “I’m not hassling him.”

“You really only have two reasonable options here,” said Merry. “Either go in there and give him your phone number or leave him alone and, I don’t know, make a dating profile. And what were you even doing in town today? Aren’t you supposed to be working on your thesis?”

“I was,” said Frodo. “I took a break and went for a walk. To the flower shop.”

“You have a big problem,” said Merry. “You know that?”

“I have a small crush,” said Frodo. “That’s all. And, and the flowers are pretty. Don’t you think they brighten up the room?”

“We’re going to start running out of surfaces to brighten up,” Merry groaned. “Look, okay. I will go in there with you and wingman. How about that?”

“I don’t need a wingman,” said Frodo. “I already told you I’m not going to ask him out while he’s at work. An even if I was I wouldn’t need your help.”

“Really?” said Merry, raising his eyebrows. “Because you are famously so good at asking people out.”

“And you’re famously such a good wingman,” said Frodo. “I can handle it.”

Merry threw up his hands. “Fine!”

“Fine!”

The front door slammed. Pippin stuck his head into the kitchen. His gaze fell upon the tulips and turning to Frodo he said, “again?”

*

The shop bell dinged. “Alright,” said Frodo as they edged inside, surrounded on all sides by greenery. “We’re just going to go over there and say hello to him and then we’ll see how it goes from there.”

“Sure,” said Merry, looking around himself. “I have to hand it to you, this place is pretty nice.” He picked up a tiny purple succulent from a shelf. “Why wouldn’t you have brought some of these home instead of flowers? These are cool.”

Frodo snatched the succulent and put it back in its proper place. “Stop touching things!” he said. “Just – be normal.”

Merry stared at him. “You’re telling me to be normal?”

“Shut up,” said Frodo. “Oh, shit. Okay. There he is.”

Coming out of the back room was a round-faced, fair-haired man in a green apron, his features obscured behind a large bunch of roses. He handed them to a woman at the counter and began to ring up her order.

“Huh,” said Merry. “Really?”

“What?” said Frodo. “Is there something wrong with him?”

“No – no,” Merry said. “It’s just. You like them chubby, don’t you?”

“What? No!” said Frodo. “Yes. Maybe. None of your business. Shut up.”

“You realise you just gave every possible answer to that question, right?”

“Shush,” said Frodo. “Alright, I think they’re done. Let’s go and say hello.”

They pushed past a bushy fern, towards the counter. Frodo said, “hi.”

Sam looked up from the till. At the sight of Frodo his face shamelessly lit up. He was beaming as if Frodo coming into his shop was the best thing that had happened to him all day. And Merry thought, oh.”

“Morning,” said Sam. “You again.”

“Me again.” Frodo leaned on the counter. “This is Merry,” he said, jerking his head at him. “He’s my flatmate.”

“Hey,” said Merry. “Good to meet you.”

“G’morning.” Sam’s gaze went warmly and inexorably back to Frodo. “You’re back soon.”

“Hm?” Frodo was leaning on one elbow, staring at Sam and evidently lost in his eyes. They were, Merry had to concede, very big and brown.

“You were just in yesterday,” Sam reminded him.

“So I was,” said Frodo. “Tulips.” Merry nudged him. “I, um. I just wanted to come back in because I wanted to talk to you, about.” He breathed out. He breathed in. He nodded at Merry. “It’s Merry’s gran’s birthday,” he said, his voice going a touch high and stilted.

“Oh my god,” said Merry to himself.

“And he was wanting to get her some flowers,” Frodo went on, “so I told him you were the person to talk to. So. Here we are.”

“Aye,” said Sam, nodding. “We do birthdays. What sort of flowers were you wanting?”

Merry looked at Frodo and considered calling him on his bullshit. He elected to show him some clemency. “What would you recommend?”

“Well,” said Sam, “what does she like?”

“I dunno,” said Merry. “Look, I’ll level with you. I’m a terrible, lazy grandson and I’d really appreciate it if you could just pick something. Preferably something inexpensive.”

Sam smacked his lips. “We have some carnations that are quite nice,” he said. “She might like those.”

“Sure,” said Merry. “I’m easy.”

“I’ll go get some,” said Sam. “Then you can decide.”

He went off into the shop. Merry shot Frodo a look as if to say what the fuck are you doing. Frodo shot him a pleading look in return as if to say fuck off, I panicked.

Aloud, Merry said, “what are carnations again?”

“Oh, you know,” said Frodo. “They’re the small ones.”

“The small ones?”

Coming back around the counter, Sam set down the flowers. “”How about these?”

“Ohh,” said Merry. “Those are carnations. Okay. Yeah, they’re fine.”

“What sort of paper do you want?” said Sam.

“Do you have any recommendations?”

“No,” said Sam flatly. “Do you want me to show you some?”

“Sure,” said Merry.

As he fetched out some paper, Merry silently reflected on the fact that he didn’t even have any grandmothers. “Yeah, I don’t know,” he said. “Frodo, what do you think she’d like?”

“The baby blue,” said Frodo, not skipping a beat.

“Cool, let’s go with that,” said Merry.

Sam began to wrap the bouquet. He kept sneaking little looks at Frodo as he did so, glancing at him under his eyelashes as if he couldn’t bear to take his eyes off him for more than a few seconds. Merry watched him. He considered the situation.

He said, “my friend thinks you’re cute.”

“Merry!” said Frodo.

Sam’s hands stilled on the tape dispenser. “Oh?”

“He wants to ask you out, but he’s too shy,” said Merry. Sam ducked his head, blushing a flustered pink.

“No,” said Frodo. “That’s not – not that I don’t think you’re cute, I just wasn’t going to – I’m not shy.”

Merry roundly ignored him. “Would it be alright if he gave you his phone number?”

“Aye,” said Sam. “That’d be alright.” He looked to Frodo, smiling a fond half-smile that dimpled one of his cheeks.

Frodo glanced at Merry, at a loss for how to respond to what was happening to him. Then turning to Sam, he said, “can I take you to dinner some time?”

“I’d like that,” said Sam, still smiling.

“Alright,” said Frodo.

“Alright,” said Sam. He set the finished bouquet on the counter. “I’m still gonna need someone to pay for this.”

Merry looked to Frodo. Frodo met his eye and said, “it’s your grandmother.”

“Oh, for –” They would have words about this later, Merry decided. He reached for his wallet. “Fine.”

“Why did you do that to me?” said Frodo on the pavement outside the shop.

“Got you a date, didn’t I?” said Merry. “Why’d you say it was my grandmother’s birthday?”

“It just came out,” said Frodo. “I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” Merry nodded at the carnations. “Do you want these?”

“Kind of,” said Frodo. “Yeah.”

Merry thrust them at him. “You can pay me back.”

*

He shouldered his way through the front door, his arms wrapped around a stack of library books. “Hey,” he called. “Anyone in?” There was a light on in the kitchen. He put his head around the door, and – “ah.”

On the sofa Frodo and Sam sprang apart, flustered and tousled. Sam tugged a cushion into his lap, blushing fiercely. “Merry!” said Frodo. “You’re home.”

“Yeah,” Merry agreed. He gestured vaguely at the front door with his keys. “Actually, I think I’m going to go back to the library.”

“You don’t have to leave,” said Frodo. “We can go somewhere else –”

“No no, it’s cool,” said Merry. “I study better there. I just came to drop these off.” He hefted his books. “You kids have fun. Good night.”

“Night,” said Sam, awkwardly waving.

He shut the door softly behind himself, and sighing thumped his library books down on the hall table.

On his way down the stairs, he texted Pippin. Looks like Frodo’s date went well. They’re making out on our sofa.

Cool, Pippin texted a moment lately. So drinks?

[hughiecampbelle]

Being Pollys Long Lost Child Would Include: (Part #1)

Showing up the Small Heath with nothing but a suitcase and a vague idea of where to go

You actually run into your cousins/brother before you even know who they are on the way there

Breaking through their group right down the middle, unaware of who the Peaky Blinders are

A few yell or tease, but you don't care, not when it's this important

Telling Michael to fuck off when he makes a comment about how rude you are, unaware he's actually your brother

Still, you won't let those assholes ruin your big day

Staring down the front door

What does someone say in a situation like this?

Sorry I didn't visit sooner, I never knew you existed? Did you ever give up a child so many years ago looks like you? Do you have any kids?

You barely knocked twice before the door swung open

You weren't sure who to picture. . . . the woman all those people described seemed like a million women. . . Sometimes she was a mastermind, other times a drunk, she could be feared or admired, smart or stupid. . .

Instead all you saw were her big brown eyes and look of distrust

"Yes?"

"Are you, uh. . . did you. . . I'm y/n, I think you might be my mother."

The statement comes out stuttered and flunky, but it's strikes her none of the less, leaving her quiet for a moment

Anna was dead, Michael had come home, but they never found her baby

She couldn't let herself get her hopes up, knowing anyone could have set you up to this now that business was growing and so was their list of enemies, but she couldn't deny you if it really was true

Against her own judgement, she let's you in before anyone sees you

She knew she shouldn't have, but when you're sitting there, before her, she can picture all the times you were a baby

How your features matched, though of course that had been a long time ago, maybe she was just making it up to match for her own good

She thought about you every day, about the life you could have lead, the person you would have become, it made her sad, but hopeful, the same way she felt when she thought about Anna

You let her look, and after a while, she spoke up

"What did you say your name was?"

It's not the name her baby had, but you were so young, she figured they could have renamed you the way Michael's parents had

You found yourself telling her everything, talking before you could stop yourself or even realize what you were saying, wanting to unveil something that would convince her you were hers

From your parents, to your siblings, your grades in school and all the detentions you'd gotten, the friends you made and the hobbies you had

You never told anyone about all the times you felt different, strange, like you didn't quite fit in, and yet you were telling a complete stranger all of it and more

It wasn't until you mentioned your baby blanket, the one you'd actually brought with you, did it catch her attention

That was one thing your parents neglected to change

Polly was the one to sew the holes in it, passing it down from your siblings to you, she recognized her own stitching

Suddenly you're in her arms, being called another name

You found her, you found your mother

If Polly could have kept you for herself, she would have, knowing the kind of world you were walking into, the dangers you would face by associating yourself with her

In return, she tells you about your brother and sister, stories about you as a baby, memories coming back before she can stop them

The time your sister dressed you up and pretended you were one of her dolls, when your brother thought he could trade you in for a puppy

Like Michael, you're thrown into the family before you know what's going on

The boys burst through the door, all of them talking at once, interrupting your time together

"What are you doing here?" You question, recognizing Michael

"Me? Who the fuck are you?" The two of you look to your mother and Polly knows, just by your fighting, you're her baby

Being introduced to an army of relatives all at once

Your cousins are welcoming, friendly, the oldest ones laughing, teasing about how chubby you were as a baby

Your attitude towards your brother doesn't change, he's a pain in the ass already, but you'd never had an older sibling before, you figured he wasn't the worst of the worst, right?

Besides, you barely know one another, you hope it'll get better the more you get to know one another

It doesn't take her long to explain the business

You're curious, and observant, two things that work in your favor and against your mothers

You're not naive either

Sure, you didn't grow up with any of this, and though your parents tried to shelter you, you always knew where to find trouble

The way they cling to one another, how the crowds disperse, the mere mention of your family name, the gleam from their caps, this was not the kind of business one would brag about being part of, at least not in the company of others

You weren't stupid

Still, Polly tries to keep you away, at a distance, as do the rest of your family

You're still a kid in their eyes, but you make that pretty hard

It becomes clear what your parents were trying to hide from you, protect you from, but you weren't scared like they were, you were fascinated

It also becomes clear how easy you fit into it all, becoming a shadow to your mother, your brother, anyone who will let you follow and watch until you show them just how much you've learned

This lifestyle was dangerous and addictive, and like the rest of your family, you understand the appeal, much to your mother's dismay

Eventually she lets you in, let's you practice shooting a gun with your brother, go to the bar with your cousins, sit in on family meetings

Her one rule is that you are never, under any circumstances, alone

You take to the lifestyle quite easy despite her fears

The feeling you've always had where you never could quite fit in with your family, your siblings, even the kids around you, it all went away

Being paired up with Finn a lot since you two are the youngest

You don't mind all the time though

He teaches you a lot of tricks with his brothers, the other blinders, ways to get people to listen to what he has to say, share all their secrets

You prove yourself not only worthy of the Gray name, but also your place in the business as well

You don't quite idolize Thomas as much as your brother does, and when you can't bite your tongue any longer, it can get you into trouble

Luckily, your mother is always ready to stick up for you

She catches herself calling you by the name she gave you, and though you're not quite ready to take it, you know she means well

"Fuck off, Michael."

"I'm telling mum you said that."

"Snitch."

Fighting with your brother becomes normal, not all out of hatred anymore, but a constant, dull annoyance

You begin to find your place here, in the job, the family, everything

Part of you hates to admit that you don't miss who you used to be, who you thought you were going to be

Your parents knew you were smart, but they always assumed you'd live a life like theirs, one of safety, predictability, a life that was boring

Here, you had a life of excitement, danger, one that kept you on your toes, where moving up in the world was something to work towards, not just dream of

Polly knew what you were leaving behind, and she wouldn't have stopped you or blamed you if you decided to turn back, but it was the happiest day of her life when you knocked on that door

You were giving her the second chance she always wanted

Your parents, on the other hand, are anything but happy

You call home a few times, assuring them you miss them, you're thinking of them, you might visit, and that you're happier than ever, but your parents know something is up

Word spreads quick in a small place like yours

Rumor spread you'd run off with a secret partner, skipped town after getting into trouble again, joined the circus

The more time that passed, the crazier they became

But your parents knew

They should have suspected you were lying from the beginning, that you were after the one thing you' d always asked about, that you figured out all along what they'd kept secret. . . . .

Now they regretted not seeing it before

It takes a little while for them to figure out where you went, where Polly ended up, but they found you again, and they were coming to bring you home once and for all

A/N: Ahhh okay I know I kinda left it on a cliffhanger!!! I hope this part was as good as the first!!! There might be a third idk yet :P

[taetaesbaebaepsae]

wild things (ot7)

Summary: You’re a free spirit, and your father doesn’t seem to understand that. So he gets seven predator hybrids to keep an eye on you.

Rating: Explicit Warnings: angsty backstories, oral (f. receiving), mention of rough sex, marking, bruising, lion!Yoongi has a rough tongue, Hawk!Hoseok is just rough, this is just an intro and a first part so there’s a lot more warnings coming like knotting, breeding, etc, eventual poly

Word Count: 3374

This is ridiculous, you think as you scale down the tree at the side of your house. Sneaking out like a teenager when you're 23 years old, all because your parents think it's too dangerous for an heiress to go out alone and they couldn't find a bodyguard to indulge your restless whim to go out for wine and dinner at 10pm.

What good was being an heiress anyway if you didn't get to do what you wanted?

You can see the neon lights of your favorite restaurant when you're blocked by a large shadow, a sudden strong, musky smell invading your nostrils.

You look up into a pair of eyes black as coal, a big man with a set of bull horns, and alarms go off in your head.

He's not wearing a collar, which you know means he's unowned, probably a stray, and while you know generally non-predator hybrids are harmless, there's something...off.

It's the smell, the way his pupils are blown, arms straining in his black t-shirt.

"You smell nice," he mutters, and moves toward you, too suddenly for you to start away.

You brace yourself for impact, sure he's going to throw you into the brick behind you, but the only thing that happens is a huge whooshing sound, almost like a boom of thunder.

When you open your eyes the bull hybrid is holding his face, two wide and bloody scratches from his nose to his chin.

"Fuck," he mutters thickly, something like apology in his eyes as he walks away.

Your heart is thudding in your chest and you startle when you hear a low voice.

"You okay?"

You turn to see a man standing there, looking at you with sharp, amber colored eyes. He must be a hybrid, a predator according to those eyes, and you shrink into yourself.

"You're okay," he says, and his tone is low and calming.

He's wearing a big trenchcoat, shoulders almost unimaginably wide. You can't tell by his features what kind of hybrid he is, and you just blink at him.

"Ah, th-thank you," you stutter, and he nods, looking away.

"Be careful," he warns, and then he's gone, through a back alley, and you unlock your phone with shaking hands to call your father.

There's a big argument when you get home, but this time you don't fight back, just nod and apologize and crawl into bed and when you sleep you dream of running from the bull hybrid, and then later, of sharp amber eyes.

The next week, your father calls you into his office, tells you that he's hired a security team, and you don't protest this time.

Hired turns out to be not quite the right word, since there are seven hybrids sitting in various places in your living room.

You recognize one instantly, the amber eyed hybrid that had helped you before. He's leaned against the doorjamb, scanning the rest of the hybrids.

When you offer your hand for him to shake he looks surprised but stands up straight, looks you in the face.

"Y/n," you offer.

"Hoseok," he replies, voice softer than you'd remembered. 

You want to ask questions, thank him for what he'd done but there's a big dog hybrid bouncing around to introduce himself. You can't help but smile at his eager nature, and there's another couple hybrids who are just as gregarious.

Jungkook, a mastiff hybrid not much older than a puppy, tail wagging, tells you he'd only been a protection hybrid for a week when your father hired him.

Taehyung, a cougar born in a rescue facility, had been put into a protection program after the facility shut down. He's bright eyed and looking over you curiously when he introduced himself.

The wolf hybrid, Namjoon, doesn't say much, but you see his ear is tattered, wondering if he'd been on the streets.

There's a hybrid lounging on your couch as if he owns the place already but before you can be mad he turns and gives you a gummy smile which is made no less cute by his sharp canines. Judging from the tail that flicks around the arm of the couch and his long, honey colored hair, you'd guess a lion hybrid. 

"Yoongi," he says, and bows his head to you in an almost regal way, as if you're a queen.

There's an unmistakable fennec fox hybrid, ears down, staring at you from the corner of the room, leaned against the wall. He's pretty in an almost intimidating way. 

"Jimin," he barks, voice lower than you'd assumed.

Seokjin is another talker, standing near the other two felines. His tail and ears are a beautiful cream color with leopard spots so you assume your father found him in captivity, as well.

Seven of them, waiting around for your instruction, for you to need them. You were determined not to.

That lasted all of a few weeks, and it starts to spiral with one Jung Hoseok, mystery hybrid.

It happens quick, your fling with Hoseok. So quick that when you think back, it seems surreal how it all started.

He’s the most strict with you, out of the seven hybrids sworn to be your protectors, and it pisses you off at first, his sharp eyes, the way he would speak to you in this commanding voice, as if you had no choice but to listen.

You’d drawn back to your hand to slap him once, when he’d said something particularly snarky, and he’d caught your wrist.

“It’s illegal to abuse your hybrids, princess.”

There’s just this hint of a smirk at the edge of his lips, and it makes you even angrier when you wiggle to get out of his grip and you can’t.

“Let me go.”

“Gladly. As soon as you agree to sit down and stop trying to climb out the window.”

“I wasn’t-” 

Hoseok holds up a piece of the sheet you’d been working out the window, and you huff out a breath.

The first time you kiss him, he seems surprised for only a moment, eyes widening before he takes your wrists in his hands and pins you against the wall to kiss you back, hard and hungry.

“This is illegal,” he moans when you kiss his throat.

“Lots of things are illegal,” you reply, and it’s like that from then on. 

You never know when it will happen, when he’ll catch your eye, jerk his head toward the hallway and then when you make it there pin you against the wall, or sometimes you pin him, him making these sounds in the back of his throat that would give him away as a hawk hybrid if you didn’t already know.

It’s a bit hard to miss, since you’ve seen him naked, his wings spread, all the black and brown feathers he leaves in your bed.

You wonder if it’s on purpose, especially when there’s three on your pillow the night Yoongi has guard and the lion hybrid picks one up, raises an eyebrow at you, and you just shrug.

“Leaving feathers for the others to find? Are you jealous, Hoseok?” You tease the next time you have him in your bed.

He looks up at you as you clench your thighs around his waist. 

“Wouldn’t dream of being more than your dirty little secret, princess.”

He flips you over then, kisses you until you can’t keep talking, can barely breathe.

The others don’t know, even though you suspect that Namjoon has an idea, you’d seen him wrinkle his nose after you’d come out of your room, Hoseok leaving through your bedroom window. 

Namjoon suspects a lot of things he doesn’t say, you think, keeps his mouth shut, rubbing at his tattered ear and biting the insides of his cheeks when something happens and he needs to bite his tongue. It makes you wonder if he’d been unable to speak freely with his last owners, and you’d like to change that, but you also can’t risk your parents finding out that you have any relationship other than professional with a hybrid.

After one particularly rough session in which Hoseok had pinned you against the wall of your bedroom, fucking up into you with his mouth just below your collarbone, leaving marks where no one would see, you head back out into the living room and Namjoon does that nose wrinkle again. He rubs at his tattered ear and looks away from you.

Jungkook wrinkles his nose, too, but instead of asking questions just rubs his nose up your neck and makes you giggle, pulls you into his lap for skinship while Yoongi huffs and pouts, perched on the couch next to Taehyung.

“Hyung,” Taehyung purrs, brushing his cheek against the older cat. “Don’t be jealous.”

Yoongi growls at him but there’s no bite to it, and you ruffle his long, blond hair as you pass by. He smiles his gummy smile at you, has never so much as sneered at you, and Taehyung pouts and slinks to the other end of the couch.

He wraps his arms around Jimin, instead, and the fennec fox hybrid twitches his long ears, but you know secretly he loves the skinship, no matter how he grumbles.

Seokjin is lying on the floor, in the sun, his white hair seeming to gleam in the sunlight. He looks lazy and effortlessly beautiful, but his leopard’s eyes are sharp, watching you snuggle in between Yoongi and Jungkook.

Hoseok trails an appropriate amount of time later, standing near the doorway as if on guard.

“Are you ever going to tell us what kind of hybrid you are, Hobi?” Seokjin drawls, looking at you instead of over at Hoseok.

Hoseok lifts his chin up. “Does it matter?”

Seokjin shrugs lazily. “I’m curious. We’re all pretty obvious, especially Ears over there.”

Jimin sticks his tongue out at him, rocking back a bit as Taehyung nuzzles against the top of his head.

It’s Yoongi who surprises you, standing up to look at Hoseok, his eyes going across the breadth of his shoulder. 

“Something with wings, I bet.”

“A bird hybrid?” Namjoon sits up in the recliner, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve only read about them, never met one. They’re so rare-”

Hoseok sighs as Yoongi walks around him, looking him up and down.

“A crane, maybe? He’s all tall and gangly.” Yoongi smirks up at him. 

You roll your eyes. “Now boys. Hoseok doesn’t have to-”

Hoseok shakes his head. “It’s okay. Might as well. I don’t want them thinking I’m a fucking flamingo.” Taehyung snorts at this, making Jimin’s mouth turn up at the corner, as well.

Jimin had been the slowest to acclimate to living among six other hybrids. Namjoon and Jungkook, both canine, had bunked up immediately, Jungkook whining at Namjoon’s bedroom door until he let him in, on the second night. He’d moved in right after.

Seokjin, Taehyung, and Yoongi were all feline, so they’d been content to curl up together on the couch and nap, draped around each other.

Jimin on the other hand, adorable with his long ears and cute face, was harsher with you. Despite his small figure, he could be intimidating, he’s broad and a lot stronger than he looks. He’d thrown you over his shoulder like a sack of flour to keep you from leaving, and he has this hard look in his eyes when he’s serious and a lower growl than you’d imagined when he’s mad.

 Like Hoseok, he took his job as your protector more seriously than the others seemed to, and at first, he’d ignored the others (Jungkook particularly).

Jungkook would try to play with him, growl at him and nip at his heels until Jimin yipped back at him, and Namjoon or Hoseok had even had to break up a few fights that way while the cats looked on, bemused. Eventually, Jimin realized that he could trick Jungkook easily, and he’d let him play, run from him until Jungkook went headfirst into the glass door or skidded into the kitchen and knocked over the chairs.

During the first winter, you’d gone into Namjoon and Jungkook’s room to wake them up and found Jimin sleeping at the end of the bed, draped across their legs.

When he’d woken he’d grumbled and slipped past you as if nothing happened, but now he was just as likely to sleep there when he wasn’t on guard or nap draped among the cats like he was one of them.

Jimin scoffs, jolting you out of your memories. “He’s not a crane. Something that hunts them, maybe.”

Namjoon is on the edge of his seat. “Like a predatory bird? That’s so interesting.”

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “I’m a hawk hybrid. It’s not that special.”

There’s a chorus of oohs around the room that make you giggle a little.

Hoseok shuffles on his feet, looking as if his feathers are quite literally ruffled.

All the boys are interested now, even Taehyung, usually unbothered, slinking down to the floor to crawl toward him and marvel when Hoseok removes his trenchcoat to reveal his wings.

Yoongi, however, stays on the couch, looking at you from the corner of one scarred eye. You’d never asked him, where it came from, nor asked Namjoon about his tattered ear or Taehyung about the marks on his back you’d seen when he’d started changing that first day in front of all of you, completely unashamed.

You know that all of your hybrids were adopted for the purpose of protecting you, from others and from yourself, and that they had scattered and possibly dangerous backgrounds. 

Yoongi has never looked at you quite like this though, something hard in his gaze, like when Jimin or Hoseok are scolding you.

None of the others have ever been able to scold you or actually stop you from leaving. Namjoon let you talk him out of it, Seokjin and Taehyung would just go with you if given the chance and get into their own mischief, and Jungkook and Yoongi were too fond of you to stand it when you pouted. 

With Yoongi, whenever you wanted something you’d just thread your fingers through his hair and he’d purr and let you do whatever you wanted, but there’s something almost feral in his gaze now.

It’s kind of...hot.

You’d be lying if you said that Hoseok was the only hybrid you were attracted to in the bunch. In fact, they were all gorgeous in their own right, but you figure it's enough trouble to have let one of them in your bed.

While the others are distracted by Hoseok you slip toward your bedroom, meaning to wash your sheets as you always do after you and Hoseok hook up.

You don't hear him walk up behind you, which is odd since he has this particular walk, somehow confident and lazy at the same time, almost shuffling his feet.

“Yoongi, what are you-” you start, and Yoongi puts a finger up to his lips, takes your hand and tugs you into your bedroom, closing the door softly.

You stare at him, wide eyed. “Why-”

“You’re fucking the bird, right?” Yoongi says, his tone nonchalant, but his stance isn’t. His shoulders seem wider, and he’s still glaring at you, his yellow eyes seeming to glow.

“I...what…” you sputter, not sure how to lie or what to say.

He takes a few steps closer to you and you back up but then the backs of your knees hit your mattress and you sit down with a squeak.

He’s more intimidating like this, looking down at you, and it makes you press your thighs together. 

He leans down and you wonder for a hot moment if he’s going to kiss you but instead he brushes past you, plucks a feather off your pillow.

He holds it up. 

“You’re fucking the bird,” he says again, and there’s nothing you can say to deny it.

“Um,” you begin. “It’s none of your business.” Your voice comes out small and bratty.

Yoongi rolls his head on his shoulders, neck cracking and it makes you twitch.

“Maybe not,” he admits slowly, voice low, always low in this rumbling that’s between a purr and a growl. “I’m used to being the only male in a pride.”

You barely want to blink, looking up at him. “What does that mean?”

Yoongi shrugs. “Guess I’m a bit competitive.”

“What do you mean by competitive?”

Yoongi scoffs. “Don’t play dumb, Y/n.” He kneels between your thighs, placing his hands on your knees lightly. You look down in shock, think that you’d never noticed how big they are. His tail wraps around his knees, twitching just slightly as he looks up at you.

You’re wearing a maxi dress and he starts to bunch it around your hips slowly, keeping eye contact with you the whole time and your breath catches in your throat but you don’t want to stop him.

He thumbs across a fingerprint bruise on your thigh with a sigh that rumbles in his chest.

“Birds mate for life but they don’t know how to treat their mates,” he mumbles, as if to himself, planting a kiss there, open mouthed, that makes your thighs tremble. “All rough, marking, making themselves known.” He scoffs again, and lifts his head to look at you with those yellow eyes. “I knew the moment he first touched you.”

He slides his fingers higher up your thigh, hooks his thumb under the lace edge of your panties and you gasp.

“Can’t just treat a mate like you so roughly,” Yoongi continues as he slides your panties slowly down your thighs and ankles, slipping them off you and kissing the side of your knee as he does so. “You don’t like being owned, being obvious.”

“I-I don’t?” You stutter, mouth dry.

Yoongi shakes his head, smiling against your skin. It’s almost a snarl and it sends heat through your belly. 

“You like it secret, don’t you, Y/n? Mate like you, deserves to have a secret lover to worship her.”

You can’t help the low moan that slips past your lips.

His fingers slip into you like they belong there, and he curls his fingers in just the right way, a way that has you idly wondering how much practice he must have had at this back at the compound your father found him at.

When his tongue scrapes across your clit you nearly come off the bed. You had never thought about lion hybrids having a rough tongue but it’s textured, almost painful but in the most pleasurable way.

“Oh, God,” you whimper.

Yoongi lifts his head, a slight pout on his full lips. “Yoongi.”

You blink. “Yoongi,” you repeat, and he presses his face back into you, moaning against you and using that rough tongue against your clit and you’re pretty sure you’ve never cum that fast from oral.

There’s a crash from outside the door and Yoongi groans against you, still lapping at your cunt even after you’ve clenched your thighs around his head.

He’s pouting, mouth shiny with your slick, when you stand up, kicking your panties under the bed.

“My father might come,” You say, breathless, and Yoongi takes his time licking his lips and around his canines, standing up and adjusting himself in the sweats he’s wearing.

The smirk he has on his face makes you kinda want to punch him, but instead you dart out of the door after smoothing down your hair.

“Stay here for a bit before you come out,” you hiss.

Yoongi bows to you, that regal bow he’d done when you’d first met, and sits down on the bed, still smirking at you.

When you make it into the living room it’s chaos, Jungkook bleeding from the forehead and Jimin chortling, glass all over the carpet where Jungkook had run head first into it.

“Park Jimin!” You yell, and Jimin shrugs.

“The dog started it,” he says simply.

Your father does come, and in all the chaos and the glass door being replaced, you’re surprised when Hoseok slips behind you, puts a hand on your lower back, whispers in your ear.

“Got another dirty little secret, princess?”

[calpalirwin]

Tough Act

Summary: Lip may have finally met his match.

A/N: A season 4/season 5 AU of sorts. My first Shameless/Lip Gallagher fic too, so fuck off if it sucks.

Content: Swearing, fighting, fucked up-ness.

Word Count: 4.3k

And away, and away we go!

__

The door to the lecture room slammed open, averting everyone’s attention to the teenager rushing into the closest empty seat. Underneath the sea of unruly brown curls was a face red from the exertion of his run across campus in a blind hurry. There was a wild look in his crystal blue eyes as he tore his backpack apart, digging around for a notebook and pen, and a flash of agitation as he came up empty-handed. The adrenaline of his bad morning made all his movements swift as he frantically scanned around to figure out who to ask to help him out of his predicament. 

“Psst,” he whispered, his rushing about coming to a standstill as he stopped on the girl seated to his left. “Psst… hey!”

“What?” she whispered back in annoyance, her lips barely moving, her attention still fully on the professor who continued with their lecture.

“You got a spare scrap of paper. And, uh… a pen? I seemed to uh…”

“Forgot to charge your precious laptop?” she questioned with the same note of annoyance.

“Oh, you think I’m one of these snobs?” he smirked, gaze flickering about the room. “Nah. Rough morning.”

Her eyes rolled as she reached wordlessly into her bag at her feet, producing a notebook with a pen tucked into the spirals. “Here,” she hissed, handing it over.

“Oh, I don’t need the whole th-”

“Don’t care. Now, shut the fuck up.”

“Thanks.”

“The fuck did I just say?”

The boy smirked again, but didn’t say another word, turning his attention to catch the rest of the lecture.

When the class was over, he ripped the pages free from the notebook, tucking the pen back in the spirals and handing it over. “Thanks again.”

“Keep it,” she said, pushing the notebook into his chest as she rose to her feet. “You clearly need it more than I do.”

Confused irritation flashed across his face as he followed her out of the classroom. “I was just trying to be nice. Fuck.”

She paused, turning on her heel to face him. Now that they were literally standing toe to toe, she got a good idea of just how tall he was as she found herself eye level with his chest. Or what would be his chest if it wasn’t covered in a white t-shirt sporting the words “Fuck you you fucking fuck” in blue block letters. The same color blue of the simple zip up hoodie he was also wearing. The kind of blue that really made his eyes pop as her chin tilted upwards to find his own gaze staring down at her, unchecked attitude in every sharp feature of his face. She crossed her arms, scoffing. “Are you saying I wasn’t nice back?”

“Look, if you’re gonna be a cold bitch, that’s fine. But why bother helping in the first place?”

“Right. Next time I’ll just let you keep pestering me, then.”

“I just said ‘thank you.’ What the fuck more do you want?! Jesus…”

“You’re welcome!” she snapped back. “Better?”

His temper gave way to cockiness as he flashed a grin. “See? Was that so hard? Can I buy you a coffee? Or like a new notebook?”

“Ugh, I don’t get you. One minute you’re pissed I helped you. The next you’re trying to flirt with me? Pick a side, loser.”

“It’s Lip, actually.”

Familiarity flashed in her eyes. “As in Gallagher?”

He chuckled lightly. “Yeah. How many Lips do you know? Wait… you know me? How?”

“Think you’re the only one from the South Side with a brain? I’m Mickey and Mandy’s cousin.”

“Oh shit! You’re a Milkovich?”

“A Y/L/N, actually. But yeah, I guess.”

“No shit, huh?”

“Yeah, what gave it away? The attitude, or the fact that I’m the only one in this place taking notes by hand?”

“Well, not the only one,” Lip chuckled, waving the notebook he had tucked under his arm.

“Right…” she said before walking off. After a few steps, she turned to look over her shoulder at him still standing there. “Well?” she demanded. “You buying me that coffee, or not?”

That trademark smirk graced his lips before he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and jogged after her. 

“So, how’d you end up here?” Lip asked as they pushed their way out of the building. He rubbed his hands together, blowing into them before digging into his pocket, producing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Lip shook the box at her in a silent question as he placed one between his lips and lit it.

She took one, and when she moved to take the lighter from him, he gave a small shake of his head. One of Lip’s hands cupped around the cigarette in her mouth, the other lighting it for her, before he took a long drag from his own cigarette. “You gonna answer my question?” he asked, pocketing the cigarettes and lighter.

“You didn’t really give me time before you asked a new one,” she responded, blowing a ring of smoke.

“Well?” Lip prompted, twisting his left wrist in a gesture to indicate for her to go ahead and answer.

“Like I said. You think you’re the only one from the South Side with a brain?”

“I mean… statistically no. But to get into a place like this? And afford it? What’s your secret? The Milkovichs fuckin’ got some dirt on someone? Can you get them to threaten them for me too?”

She rolled her eyes. “One, I got in here on my own. Two, I’m not a Milkovich. I may share a little blood, but I don’t share the name. Not that I’d want to anyway. Fuckin’ Terry trying to fuck the gay out of Mickey by having him fuck that Russian broad? Like he has several dipshit sons to pass on those disphit genes. Who gives a fuck if one of ‘em’s a raging homo?”

“Hey, that raging homo is fucking my brother. Watch it.”

She raised her hands in defense. “Like I give a shit who’s fucking whom. None of my damn business.”

“Whom, huh? Jesus, you are smart.”

“Yeah, and for a brainiac you’re fuckin’ slow. Smart isn’t a special Lip trait made just for you. Other people can have it too. Probably hard to see that though with your ego. Does that ever get heavy?”

“Ooo, she bites.”

“She happens to have a name. And I swear if you call me a Milkovich one more time, I’ll show you exactly how I’m not one by not pulling my punches for a Gallagher like some white trash version of Romeo and Juliet.”

It was his turn to hold up his hands in defense. “Shit, okay. Let’s see… a Y/L/N… My age, give or take a year in either direction… that makes you Y/N? Which makes you a junior. Impressive.”

“Is that an ‘impressive’ in regards to your stellar deduction skills? Or an ‘impressive’ in regards to me being a junior.”

“The latter. I’ve already almost dropped out like 6 times.”

“Mmm, then maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are, Lip. Spewing bullshit to illiterates is easy. Actually being smart though requires a little more work.”

“Alright, fuck me for being curious, but I don’t exactly see our kind around campus, do you?”

“That’s probably because we don’t go around flaunting that part of ourselves. We had our chance to get out, we took it, and then we didn’t bother looking back.”

“What like some take the kid out of the hood metaphorical shit? Wouldn’t the follow up to that mean that you can’t take the hood out of the kid?”

“Yeah, and that’s exactly why I’m constantly busting my ass to keep up with these silver spoon trust fund brats. It was easy in high school. Pay attention every now and again, and you don’t have to bother with cracking a book to be labeled a genius. Big fish, small pond. Here? These kids have had nannies and tutors since before they could string two words together. Suddenly I’m just an average sized fish in a bigger pond. And out there in that ‘real world’ everyone keeps harping about? Do you see how as the pond gets bigger, you get smaller? But you think I’m gonna let that slow me down? Play into that self-fulling prophecy that I won’t amount to shit because of where I grew up? No. I’m gonna keep my mouth shut, and work my ass off because that’s what got me out in the first place, and that’s what’s gonna keep me from backsliding.”

“Did you just call me a small fish?”

“I’m saying you better get your shit together, Gallagher. This ain’t fuckin’ t-ball, it’s the big leagues. Back home, we might be the big shots. But here? We ain’t shit unless we do something about it. And showing up late to class without a fuckin’ notebook and pen isn’t how you make that happen.”

“Fuck, alright. If I wanted a lecture, I’d just call Fiona.”

“Just trying to warn you. One hood kid to another. But by all means, you could also contemplate dropping out for the 7th time.”

“Anybody ever tell you that you need to fuckin’ relax?”

“If they think that, they’re not stupid enough to say it to my face.” She took a last drag from her cigarette, blowing the smoke up in Lip’s face, before dropping the butt on the ground and grinding it out with the toe of her boot.

“Oh, yeah cuz I bet you’re real tough,” he deadpanned with an eye roll, stomping out his own smoked up cigarette, and pulling open the door to the school’s coffee shop.

Y/N scoffed. “Start putting those pretty eyes of yours to good use Gallagher, and you might just realize that in addition to being smarter than you, I can also do anything else better than you. That includes being tougher. And partying harder.”

“Pretty eyes, hmm?”

Her eyes rolled, but the way her cheeks flushed didn’t go unnoticed either. “That would be the only thing you heard… Friday night. 8 o’ clock. And if you have to ask… well… guess you better put that brain of yours to work.” The smirk on her face could rival his any day as one of her hands patted affectionately at his chest. “Bye, Lip.” And with that, she walked backwards from him out of the coffee shop, leaving him wondering what the fuck had just happened, and more intrigued than he’d ever been by any girl before.

~~~

Lip understood what Y/N had meant about not needing to bother with an address for the party. All he had to do was follow the sounds of loud music and drunk laughter.

He could feel the music vibrating in his bones the second he stepped inside, the room dark with the exception of the strobe lights bouncing triadic colors all across the party-goers, one of which was Y/N.

“Hey!” Lip said when he got closer to her.

“Hey!” she greeted with a grin. “Looks like you figured it out. C’mon, let’s get you a drink.”

He followed her deeper into the house, into a brightly lit kitchen that had him squinting. “Pick your poison,” she said, tossing him a red cup.

“So, I still owe you that coffee,” he commented after a beat, while they made their drinks.

“Oh, do you now?” she asked, looking up at him over the rim of her cup.

“I mean… I don’t do well with debts.”

“Who said you were in my debt to begin with?”

“You helped me out when you didn’t have to. What would you call that?”

“I’d call it being nice.”

“Yeah, well you know as well as I do that being nice comes with a price tag attached where we’re from.”

“That may be so. But look around Lip. Sometimes people do things for others without there being a catch. And it was a fuckin’ notebook and pen, not bail money. I don’t need anything from you, because I don’t want anything from you. Crazy concept, I’m aware.”

He took a pause to take a long drink from his cup. “I don’t get you, you know that? Like you’re nice, but you’re such a fuckin’ bitch about it too.”

“The duality of woman,” she smirked, bowing dramatically. “Some people aren’t so easy to pin down, Lip. God forbid you might actually have to get to know them. Or let them get to know you. Which one scares you more, Lip?”

Again, as a chance to get his thoughts together, he took a drink. He decided to take a page from her book. “Bye Y/N,” he called out over his shoulder as he walked away.

She watched him go in proud amusement, knowing that she’d be seeing Lip sooner rather than later.

It took about an hour for Y/N to be proven right.

“So less say you n me get outta here,” the drunk nameless college boy slurred, one hand propping himself up against the wall, the other getting dangerously close to her face.

“Let’s not, and say we did,” she replied, grabbing his hand and dropping it to his side.

“Aw, but where’s the fun in that?” he crooned, breath smelling like cheap booze and shit weed.

“The fun is that you walk away with the only part of you bruised being your ego,” Lip growled from behind.

Frat boy turned to face Lip, his movements sluggish. “And who the fuck are you?”

“Nobody,” Y/N hissed at the same time Lip responded with “Her boyfriend.” “Nobody,” Y/N repeated in a firmer tone. “Lip, leave. I got this handled.”

“Yeah, leave,” the other boy said earnestly. “Probably be best if you didn’t watch me fuck your pretty little girlfriend.”

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” she spat while the muscle in Lip’s jaw ticked. “You can follow Lip in getting the fuck out of my face.”

“Mmm, feisty. Good. Just the way I like ‘em.”

Y/N’s hand cracked against his face, and then Lip was shoving him backwards. “The fuck did you just say to her?! Get the fuck out of here!”

“Oh, yeah? And who’s gonna make me?”

A snarl ripped itself out of Lip’s throat, before he was throwing a punch, his fist connecting solidly with the other guy’s jaw. “Lip!” Y/N scolded in disbelief as Lip took the next hit square in the face. “Hey!” she yelled, wedging herself in between both young men, each prepared to keep exchanging blows. “Leave! Both of you!”

The drunk frat boy stumbled off, but not before throwing Lip the dirtiest look he could muster. Lip huffed in disdain, but stayed rooted in place. “You alright?” he checked, the lights bouncing off the room showing the area around his mouth already starting the transition from red to purple. With a thumb, he wiped at the trickle of blood spilling from his nose, smearing it with the blood coming from his busted lip.

With both hands, she shoved him as hard as she could. “I had that fuckin’ handled!”

“Well fuck me for being nice, then!” he shot back, matching her anger. He turned on his heel, away from her.

“Where the fuck are you going?!”

“Away! Like you wanted!”

She grabbed his arm, whipping him back around and dragging him to the nearest bathroom. “Sit!” she instructed, as she locked the door and grabbed a washcloth.

“I’m fine,” he protested, but sitting on the ledge of the tub anyway. “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”

She slammed one of her hands on the counter as she turned on the faucet to wet the washcloth. “See?” she said, cupping his face and cleaning away the blood. “It’s exactly that type of thickheaded stubbornness that’s gonna keep you stuck exactly where you are.”

“Thickheaded stubbornness?”

“Yes. That chip on your shoulder that says the world is always gonna be against you, and that everything comes with a price tag. That fighter’s instinct you disguise as reckless bravery, but is really just a stupid desire to hit the world as hard as it hits you. The world isn’t as black and white as you were made to believe. If this was some piss poor attempt at saying we’re even for giving you a fuckin’ notebook the other day, congrats. We’re even. Thank you. Are you satisfied now, Lip?” She chucked the washcloth in the sink.

“I’m never satisfied. And wasn’t it you who told me that sometimes people can do nice things for others just because? I wasn’t evening a score between us, Y/N. I was just being nice.”

“Well, way to be a bitch about it…” she snorted.

“Oh, you liked it,” he taunted, rising to his feet. “Didn’t you?”

She rolled her eyes in disgust. “No.”

“Aw, not so tough when it’s me confronting you with the truth now are you?”

“Fuck you, Lip.”

“Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He closed the distance between them in one step, lifting her up onto the counter, his lips finding that niche where her neck met the collarbone. When her fingers flew to tangle in his hair, he took that as his cue that he wasn’t pushing limits that shouldn’t be pushed. But erring on the side of caution, he pulled back to peel his shirt off, giving her ample time to stop him. When he got a throaty whine of protest instead of her slapping him senseless, he chuckled darkly. “Aw, look who doesn’t want me to leave now.”

Y/N pulled her own shirt up and over her head, tossing it to join his on the tiled floor. She hooked a finger in his belt loop, pulling him back to her. “Fuck me, Lip,” she breathed before their lips collided, heat radiating in every touch.

~~~

Lip’s chest heaved as he tugged his jeans back on. “Here,” he said, digging out his phone and handing it over. “So next time we can cut right to the chase.”

She scoffed but started to put in her number anyway, a warning about how he better call on the tip of her tongue, but the screen changed as the name “Fiona” flashed and his phone started to ring. “Uh…” Y/N said slowly.

He swore under his breath, taking the phone back and answering. “Yeah, Fi? Whoa, slow down. Ian did what? Okay, we’ll keep him there. I’m on my way now. I dunno, Fi, as soon as I can. I’m coming from campus. But I’m coming. Just… sit tight or something.”

“What was that?” Y/N asked as Lip hung up the phone, pulling on the rest of his clothes in a hurry.

“Family emergency. D-do you have a car? Can I borrow it? It’s faster than taking the L.”

“Yeah,” she said, redressing with the same hurry and dangling her car keys. “C’mon, I’ll drive.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” he rushed. “Come with me, I mean.”

“I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”

Figuring that arguing with her would only only result in him leaving later, he nodded his head before letting them out of the bathroom.

The drive to his house was filled with tense silence as Lip bounced his leg and smoked the whole trip. As a quiet act of comforting the young man, Y/N rested a hand on his leg, and while he flinched at the contact, he allowed her hand to stay, the touch soothing even if it didn’t fully quit the storm raging in his head.

She hadn’t even put the car in park before Lip was bounding out, his boots racing against the pavement as he rushed towards the house. Y/N followed as quickly as she could, nearly colliding into his back as Lip froze in the small entryway of the house. “Where is he?” Lip barked, his brief hesitation breaking at the sight of his family huddled together in the middle of the living room while pounding and screaming sounded from upstairs.

“Up there,” a woman a couple years older than Lip directed, her voice cracking with fear and worry. “Mickey’s trying to break down the door to get to him. He’s been locked in there for like 2 hours, Lip. He stopped answering us. I- I-” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she pushed shaky hands through her hair. Behind her was a man and woman who looked to be even older than the woman talking, a teenage girl and boy of similar age, and a small toddler, all of them bearing the same terrified confusion.

Lip nodded once, understanding what the woman was saying without her needing to finish the thought. “Are all the knives accounted for?”

“Yeah, I think so. But… Fuck, Lip, I dunno what to do. Like I can’t just call the cops. I- I guess I could call Tony?”

“No, it’s fine, Fi,” Lip told her. “I’m gonna go help Mickey. You guys stay here. Actually, Kev, come with me. Carl, you too.”

As the men sprung into action and headed upstairs, the attention averted to Y/N who was still standing in the entryway. “Who are you?” the woman asked.

“Uh, I’m Y/N. I drove Lip. You must be Fiona?”

Fiona nodded numbly. “Yeah. This is V, Debbie, and Liam. Thanks for driving Lip. Uh…” She dug around in her pockets, pulling out a few crumpled bills. “Sorry,” she said, placing them in Y/N’s hand. “That’s all I got right now.”

“Oh, no,” Y/N responded, pushing the money back. “I- I go to school with Lip.”

Any chance for more small talk was interrupted by a loud splinting crack and an “Ian! What the fuck?!” before Lip, Kev, and Carl all came stomping downstairs, along with Mickey and Ian. “Y/N?” Mickey blinked, as he helped Ian onto the couch.

“Mickey,” Y/N deadpanned.

Mickey looked back and forth between Lip and his cousin, shaking his head. “Fuckin’ hell, Gallagher. You gonna fuck all my female relatives, or what?”

“Shut the fuck up, Mickey,” Lip and Y/N told him.

“Ian, are you okay?” Fiona asked, as Debbie went into the kitchen and came back with a glass of water.

“Yeah, I’m fine…” Ian muttered, gulping down the water, whatever that had transpired upstairs apparently long over in the red head’s mind.

Fiona’s gaze flickered over to the other boy’s for a more detailed answer. When Kev answered with a small whistle and twirl of his finger to indicate that Ian was off his rocker, V shoved him. “Kev!”

“What?” the man asked, holding up his hands in defense. “It’s true. Oh, and Fi… we’ll uh… fix the door tomorrow.”

“Don’t care,” Fiona responded, all her attention on Ian.

“I’m tired,” Ian declared.

“Okay, get some rest right here. I’m gonna talk to Lip real quick.” Her voice was soft, motherly even. A drastic change from the scared person she’d been 10 minutes ago.

“Okay. Hey, Lip. You home for the weekend?”

“Something like that,” Lip told him before following Fiona into the kitchen to talk out of earshot.

“What are you still doing here?” Mickey asked Y/N, not caring for the answer as he stalked after the eldest Gallagher siblings.

“Yeah, who are you?” Carl asked.

“She’s friends with Lip,” Debbie explained.

“Oh,” was the knowing reply.

V rolled her eyes. “Alright, Debbie, Carl, take Liam upstairs and go to bed. Kev, c’mon, let’s go home.”

There were some grumbles before the group dispersed, leaving Y/N alone with Ian. “So, you’re friends with Lip, huh? And related to Mickey somehow?”

“We’re cousins on his mom’s side. And I wouldn’t say Lip and I are friends, necessarily.”

“Mmm, right. Yeah, Lip doesn’t really do friends. Or relationships.”

“Good to know.”

“Hey, thanks again for driving Lip over,” Fiona’s voice sounded from behind as her and Mickey came back into the room. “We got it from here if you got somewhere to be.”

“Lover boy’s outside,” Mickey smirked.

“Not a problem. And thanks, jackass,” Y/N said, then headed in search of Lip, finding him on the back porch smoking yet another cigarette. “Hey,” she said softly, sitting down next to him.

“You’re still here?”

“Was I supposed to leave?”

He shrugged. “Everyone else does.”

“Ooo, dark…”

“Wasn’t saying it to seek sympathy points.”

“Does this tough act of yours ever get tiring?”

“Who said it was an act?”

“It’s not gonna kill you to let someone in, Lip.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it sure beats the hell out of watching them leave. Because in the end, they all do. I learned a long time ago that the only person I can count on is myself.”

“What a lonely way to live your life.”

“Better than the alternative.”

“Did you miss the part where I said I was tougher than you? That shit,” she said, jerking her thumb back at the house, “is a fuckin’ Tuesday. If anyone is gonna get the fucked up parts of you, it’s me, Lip.”

“Why?”

“Why do I get it?”

“No, why do you want to?”

“Because you get me back. Look, I know I’m abrasive. I know I piss people off. Because like you, if I push them away from the start, then when they eventually leave it hurts less. But here’s the stupid thing about that, Lip. It still hurts. Maybe this time it doesn’t have to.”

“You know that this is like a complete 180 from you berating me three days ago, right? Or even earlier this evening. Or right now.”

“That didn’t seem to bother you when you were fucking me in that bathroom.”

“How do I know you won’t leave?”

“How do I know you won’t?” she countered. “I’m not saying you gotta fuckin’ marry me, Lip. Just loosen up on the tough guy act. Not everything has to be a fight.”

“But what if I like fighting with you?”

“I’m sure we can find ways of making sure that still happens.”

“Wanna stay the night then? Maybe have a fight or two?”

__

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[juhakn]

Spring Had Just Ended

Words count: 7.5k

Theme: Slowburn, angst, fluff, established friendship

Pairing: Ten Lee and reader

summary: this summer is not what you expected when your childhood friend is back in town for a month break from college. the same person, the same feelings

You lost your cat.

Well, rather, she was the one who got lost but for some invalid reasons, your family blames you for the incident. May I remind you, an incident you clearly do not have anything to do with.

So here you are, with your friend Ten; whom you consider is very useless in your journey of finding the cat. I am a cat person, he states. You cock my eyebrow at him, completely disagreeing with his statement. He hops on the rocks, the wet rock that lives in the shallow river. It used to be your hiding spot-your cat, Thian loved to follow you here.

But college got you two caved in.

The both of you forgot to keep each other updated as he studies in Thailand, his home city while you're stuck here, in a town you're getting tired with. He would always nag every chance he gets about how you're wasting my intelligence over a small town that doesn't offer great majors.

"It holds a special place in my heart," is what you'd say.

Right now, you feel like dropping.

Holding your phone, you continue to follow wherever he goes-except Thailand. Maybe you shouldn't have brought him with you, maybe both of you shouldn't have decided to come back here in summer. He stops, "hey remember this?" he grins, his hand grasping a rock, carved with his initial and yours. Your lips couldn't help but lift themselves into a gentle smile, "yes I do, idiot."

"I remember you telling me a cat person should be able to attract cats within 50 miles away- which is complete bullshit by the way-and I somehow wore a fucking cat ears just to prove you I am one, in Halloween." He looks at you with an idiotic smile on his face. The same old smile that always makes your heart do laps.

"for the record, we were 13 and yes, a cat person should be able to attract cats within 50 miles away. You were just in denial like you are right now," you scoff.

You're the one who's in denial.

[23:17]

The quest in searching for your family (and yours) beloved Thian was a fail.

But somehow, Ten did end up in your house, eating dinner with your mother who keeps complaining about how he doesn't remember her anymore (because it's his first time visiting her in three years). You're fiddling with the spaghetti you're trying to find interesting.

Ten was a friend you met during high school, he moved from Thailand to your small town- something you're intrigued by. Why would someone ever fly all the way from a beautiful country that has little bits to everything to a small, secluded, town that absolutely doesn't have everything?

My parents wanted somewhere closed off, he would say, with a shrug followed by.

He wasn't your neighbour, or at least in your point of view (you think neighbours are the ones who lives beside, not in front of two houses by) he was a classmate.

You couldn't speak Thai, but Ten still would talk in his native language with you. Slowly, you would pick up some words but that was after he rushed to college. You never had a chance to show off your skill. Not that he's here...you feel off.

Ten was just like anyone else, he showed no interest in learning but is forced to. He once confessed about dropping school so he could become a performer.

In which he left you, for a dance major.

For his dream.

You once watched him dance. It was the month before he left for Thailand, chasing his dream. He let his warm hand slid into yours, gently grasping your fingers and stroking your hand with his thumb.

"I wanna show you something." And he did, he tugged you to your secret little space by the stream.

You watched him take off his shoes, switching them with his ballet ones. He had a big grin plastered on his face, "okay, I'm not that good so...please tell me how I did." As his toes pointed to the ground, he took a deep breath and twirl with passion.

He was a ballerino and you were falling.

[10:44]

"Do you think she'll come back?"

It was a question you loved to ask yourself. It was winter and you were lost. You still are, but you think you're getting back on track now that he's here.

Both of you decided to catch up with life, drove to the city and hang out in a newly opened cafe. There's no talking, but it's not awkward. Rather, it's comforting. You stop picking with your vanilla cake.

You look at your friend's eyes, oh-you could stare into those beautiful brown eyes of his for god who knows-you sigh, "I don't know Ten, I don't know." And it isn't a question, it's a dilemma.

Should you tell him how you feel or should you not?

You clench your teeth, the bitter taste on your tongue stayed. You just want to dance with him, you want to tell him, take your hand and wish he'd take it like his life depends on it. But that's okay, you think. But that's fine, you think. But that's nice, you think

But that hurts, you smile.

"Does Mrs Millers still sell her cherry ade? Man, I miss those days when we got them for free. I never understood why she didn't want to market it. She could be a millionaire for all we know." Ten huffs, his palm resting on his chin. He had always had pretty features, a button nose, big doe eyes, beautiful tanned skin and long eyelashes.

You couldn't bring yourself to think about his lips, you're scared you might jump onto his pink ones.

He looks at you and you reply with a shriek, "she doesn't sell them but she does still give us them," you pause, "free of charge."

Ten hums, eyes darting away from yours.

He looks at the pedestrians crossing the street, the woman walking her raging chihuahua and a man beside her with his golden retriever. The old grumpy man wearing a checkered patterned flat cap, thrusting his hands into his old, thorned brown leather jacket. Those girls chatting while eating ice cream in the hot summer wearing a matching strawberry dress.

You chuckle softly, the old man must love his grandchildren to death. You wonder if he even does have one.

In your small town, they don't have a cute modern cafe but an old vintage one. It's a cute, small building that has gone old, probably more than two decades. Its owner is an old lady named Michelle Suh whose husband is far below 6 feet in the ground. She's a sweet lady who'd give the two of you free sandwiches after school ended.

She has gotten old, the cafe would probably be closed by a few months.

Ten's eyes wander off to the old couple swinging their hands sweetly as they cross the street, adoring each other lovely.

"I wish that could be us..."

The cream tastes awful.

[11:15]

"Have you two lads date already?" Is the first greeting Mrs Millers asked. She doesn't hesitate to express her feelings (which you do admire), it just slips off her lips.

You choke on the carbonated cherry flavoured drink, your cheeks heating up with the same colour as the deep red cherries. Ten laughs freely, brushing off the old woman with his hands jokingly, stating, "I don't think we don't suit each other."

You look down at your shoes, they're sandals with a huge sunflower on each to add more aesthetical pleasing. Or maybe you're looking at the shattered pieces of your heart.

The old woman with a cherry apron sighs, "I was wishing you two could get married after my son." She smiles bitterly, disappointed that her favourite ship is sinking.

"Oh? Jungwoo's getting married?" Her son perks your interest, you haven't seen him for years after he went to boarding school. He's a couple of years younger but he's handsome.

You noticed how Ten's face dropped after you changed the subject to Kim Jungwoo; the high school student you had a crush on. It was a phase, you say. Mrs Millers is Jungwoo's foster mom, after his parents couldn't afford to raise him so Mrs Millers took him into her family's warm embrace.

Kim Jungwoo still keeps in contact with his biological parents. You knew because he accidentally overshares about his family issues when you found him crying by the river after school. You knew because the two of you would hang out by the river before Ten came. You knew because Jungwoo was your friend.

"Jungwoo's engagement was off last minute. He's here but he's a guy with a broken heart. The love of his life left him and he's a human." You pity both Mrs Millers who's forcing her lips to smile and Jungwoo...who's overwhelmed with sadness.

"Can I talk to him, Mrs Millers?" You raise your hand, asking for her consent. She nods weakly, "you can, but I'm not sure if he'd answer." And you understand, because he hates it when someone sees him at his weakest.

Once again, you knew because he told you when he cried on your shoulder when his dog died. Tuu, a white Samoyed, was his emotional support (besides you).

You sigh, thinking of all possibilities Jungwoo might make them happen. "It's okay if he doesn't, I just miss him...I want him to know that I'm here, always."

Ten flinches, but no one noticed.

Mrs Millers walk to her fridge and take the cold ham sandwich before giving it to you. She softly whispers, "can you please bring this to him, (Y/n)? He rarely goes out these days."

You nod.

You left Ten and Mrs Millers talking to each other, completely in their world. You take a deep breath, "I hope he's okay..." And walk upstairs, carefully, without making too many noises.

You knock on Jungwoo's door, softly asking his permission for you to enter. There's no response. Twice, nothing. Thrice, still quiet. You knock aga-

Jungwoo opens his door. He has eyebags under his red, dull eyes. His skin looks lifeless, he looks lifeless. Like a zombie who has nothing to do with life. No passion, no motivation...no Kim Jungwoo.

His lips quiver seeing you and you mind yourself to not squish the cold sandwich when hugging him as you slowly take him into your arms. He sobs into your chest and you coo, "there, there, my pretty boy...I'm here, jungwoo. I'm home." You pat his back with a steady rhythm.

You gentle sway your bodies into his room and closes the door by kicking it with your toe. You caress his soft brown locks, still cooing his sweet words.

For a solid 10 minutes, his sobs have stopped. You look down at him, your thumb lifts his chin for him to connect your eyes. He looks miserable, heartbroken.

You stroke his cheek gently with your thumb, "whoever did this to you, they don't know you deserve more. You deserve better, my love." You give him a sweet longing kiss on his forehead. One that screams "I miss you!".

"Now don't cry anymore, you look like a lost sad puppy." You playfully squish his cheeks with your hands, drawing circles on his soft cheeks. His lips inch for a smile as he looks at you.

Plopping down onto his bed, he follows by resting his head on your lap as you brush his hair. It used to be a hobby of yours when you two were still in high school. You think the habit might come back.

"They said they love me," Jungwoo starts. "And I believed them..." His voice shakes, his heart couldn't bear the past. "They left me, saying we were just never meant to be...it hurts knowing that I still love them. For 4 fucking years, (Y/n)," he halts.

"For 4 fucking years, we were in love and they ended it. I left after that. I left Paris and got lost. But I'm here." He cries.

His sobs get louder when hides himself in his palms. You sigh deeply, your shaking hands' pats his head. "I know that feeling," you whisper.

You do? Jungwoo asks. For 6 years of friendship, you never talk about your love life to him. He thought you were just aroromantic, so he never really cares.

"Yeah, I do." You answered his question.

"That feeling when you're just not meant to be and now you're regretting taking their hands into yours, regretting being there for them when they're sad, regretting loving them because-"

"-they left." Jungwoo continues bitterly. You nod out a yeah, you don't mind if he interrupts, it's Jungwoo and you're willing to drop the whole world for him. You stop playing with his hair and take a moment before continuing, "or maybe you don't regret loving them. You think they're the right person, but as soon as you do...they just left."

"You wanna think it's a mistake, a mistake that they leave. But it's just regret." You playfully Boop his cute nose and he scrunch it. It's cute, you think.

"I guess we're the mistresses who fell in love with married guys." Jungwoo pouts, and you nearly squish him to death. He's adorable and you're this close to snuggle him to death.

"Except that they're not." You emphasis. "And I was going to." He says as he rolls his eyes.

You interlock your hands with him, rubbing them against your cheek. "We make mistakes but I don't know if it was ever a mistake," Jungwoo confesses rather timidly. And you know he's lost, just like you.

Two friends lost in love.

Jungwoo laughs with a thin line of sadness lined in between his sweet voice. "I think they were the ones who made a mistake for leaving us, don't you think so?" He looks up at you, eyes wide open as he asks curiously.

You hum, "in your case, yes. How could a little pretty boy who deserves the whole world got left?" You say as you bring your hands to cradle his cheeks and squish them together. You earn a lively laugh from him and honestly, that's all you ever wanted. For a moment, the two of you stare at the sunset. Into different worlds, the two of you are still able to communicate with each other. He's on his own and vice versa. It's a quiet time where you both enjoy the silence in each other's warmth. The cold sandwich has already gotten into Jungwoo's stomach and he quote, "cold ham sandwiches are superior."

Jungwoo realises about what you said so he asked, "how about yours?"

"It was my choice."

[14:54]

Ten is intimidated by Jungwoo's height but he could never bring that up or you'll tease him till death. By the time you wave at the mother and her precious son, he drags you to his bike. Ten never liked cars, he fancies bikes more than them, you recall.

"What did you guys talk about?" He asks carefully with a straight face while helping you with the helmet. You shrug, "We just talk and cuddle. That's it."

Ten halts, but quickly hops onto his bike. You watch him throwing a small tantrum-by pressing the bike's gear, creating a very loud noise. As he drives you to your house, he whines quietly.

"Cuddles? Seriously? What is he? A toddler who needs cuddles to cheer up?"

As he drops you off, he runs off-without saying goodbyes. You throw your head back, stressed over your bottled up feelings for your hot friend. Ten is hot, you admit.

For anything, he's so hot you remember thinking about him in a suit during prom in the exam that you forgot to answer the exam paper. It was embarrassing and nice. He's unbearably hot that your coffee was overflowing all because you're too busy staring at his new haircut. He's too hot that you nearly missed a traffic light while driving because you were thinking about how good he could be with you.

And Ten still doesn't know about your feelings.

And you're getting pretty tired with all those butterflies that appear every time he texts you good mornings and goodnights. You're tired of those flips your stomach does whenever he smiles at you. You're tired of your heart running miles every damn time he laughs at your corny jokes.

You throw yourself onto your soft bed, head in the pillow, socks still on your feet, your sling bag somewhere on the carpeted floor and your necklace are still on.

Tomorrow's Monday.

And you have applied to work at the small cat book cafe with Sicheng. Sicheng is a friend of Jungwoo's you met during the middle school reunion. Sicheng never liked reading but he said that's the only job the town ever has. And you agree with the Chinese man.

Ten haven't met Sicheng yet, you think.

Why does every time you try to think about anything that doesn't remind you of his gorgeous self, you always find a way back to thinking about him? It feels like he connects your universe (which he does), and you will never get lost.

But you feel as if you're disappearing in the forest of love. It's hazy, you feel dizzy. The fuzziness inside you never left and biology can't even explain the feeling scientifically. You're mad, mad in love with Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.

You shout into the poor pillow, letting your feelings go around messing your room instead of your brain. You are tired and you have work tomorrow.

So you sleep.

Wearing earphones, sad playlist shuffles to help you lull to a deep peaceful slumber without Ten.

[19:13]

"(Y/n), (Y/n)!"

Sicheng snaps you from your daydream. You blink, twice. You still can't get him out of your head. He's just there, running through your mind, living rent-free. He should at least pay one dollar for every time he crossed your mind and you'd still get only one dollar because he never leaves.

Sicheng doesn't know who Ten is, at least visually/physically, but he knows you like the man. Sicheng could tell from the way your eyes are reflecting love or whatever that shit is. He thinks love isn't real and you do agree...halfway.

"I'm sorry-what were you saying, Sicheng?" You ask with a sheepish smile, your hand awkward scratches the nape of your neck. Sicheng pinches in between his eyebrow, forehead creasing. "I'm suggesting, (Y/n). Stop thinking about Ten!" He glares, and you absentmindedly take note of Sicheng's cuteness when angry.

"I wasn't thinking about him!" Your voice is an octave high, so it's a lie. You can't lie anyways, Sicheng's sun in the Scorpio allows him to read your mind. You don't believe in astrology-it's all just a big coincidence. Sicheng however does study astrology along with astronomy. He hates physics for that, but he believes in magical stuff and rituals.

Sicheng is a spiritual man.

He rolls his eyes, "whatever. I'm saying if we can put up posters about your missing cat around the town." You bit your lips. Ten had already done that the second he found out Thian went missing. "Ten already spread the news around. If anything happens, they'd call him before me." You sigh, Ten is a smart guy.

"He's a nice guy."

That's the problem. He's a nice guy and you're pushing him away. You're the stupid one for not getting him, not confessing to him. He could be the one, he also could be a passerby.

You want him to be in your life, not just a passerby who watches your life from afar. Not just the star who appears only when you need him. You want him to be your love, always there even if you don't need him.

Maybe just maybe, he can be your Juliet-without the tragic death event(s).

Sicheng goes back to pet the fat orange cat on the counter whilst looking out for customers. He tends to keep away from rumours about him slacking off. He leans in against the marble counter, smirking, "you know, if you keep thinking about him, I'm afraid he might show up." Sicheng snarky comment make you feel less nervous.

"You attract what you fear," you warm him. You walk back to cleaning the windows, way too occupied with talking to your handsome co-worker. Sometimes you wonder what could you have done to be blessed with attractive people in your life. You're lucky to live in the same realm, era, area, with them. And the fact that you know them...personally, is, really wholesome.

"No wonder he's here." Sicheng comments and you nearly slip. A what feels like an electric shock makes your body slightly imbalanced from the slippery tiled floor.

"Oh, shit-" you brush off the stain on your shirt. You look around, there's no Ten.

Sicheng laughs as you feel your cheeks warming up. You grasp the dirty towel and throw it onto Sicheng. You don't aim for his face because he's so pretty it hurts...yet it ended up flying directly to his forehead.

You burst out bubbly laughs, holding your stomach while Sicheng picks up the dirty towel with disgust. Sicheng looks at you and looks back at the towel. "Now, would it harm someone if I throw this to someone?" His lips curl up into a vicious smile.

You notice and quickly run between the books. You know Sicheng wouldn't dare to throw it- he might ruin the vintage. And he loves them. Summer is when we read books with cats, he states.

As the two of you continue playing around and bickers about the towel, the bell door rings. A customer has entered. Your eyes dart to the door and your knees wobble. A very, attractive young man whom you assumed is probably a graduate is greeting a calico cat named Hana. "God...why do such men always surround themselves in our lives?" Sicheng bites his lips.

"I don't know, but he is damn hot." You whisper, eyes still glancing at the stranger. "Hey, you have Ten! Enough collecting!" Sicheng flicks your forehead and you swear you heard a loud smack. You heard a soft chuckle behind you. "You know Ten?"

You turn around, dizzy. The man has a sharp nose, a defined jaw and big eyes. His cheekbones are visible and that makes him more...hot. however, hot is not the right word to describe his attractiveness. Perhaps, gorgeous does. You stutter over your words, "Yes- yes I do know Ten!" You cringed at yourself.

The man's eyes gleam under the light of the cafe upon hearing your answer. "Do you want coffee?" Sicheng interrupts, finding excuses to get away from the eye-gouging scene. It's exaggerated, he knows. The mystery man simply nods and asks for a cup of iced Americano. Sicheng's breath hitch, "basic bitch."

He doesn't mean it in a bad way.

Sicheng sets his foot to the coffee maker. The mystery man looks back at you, his charming smile never fades. He slowly leans in and whispers, "please do something about Ten. We're getting a bit annoyed by his rants." Your eyes widen, taken aback by his sudden action. The man simply takes a step back and winks, "the name's Hendery. We'll have lots of meetings from now on."

"I'm...glad?"

"Here's your coffee!" Sicheng suddenly appears and Hendery pays for it. He points his index finger to your lips and puts it on his own before mumbling about what you think is, "secret."

Hendery walks out after he pets all the cats in the cafe (which takes him around 10 minutes because they're 10 cats). Sicheng nudges your elbow, "what was that all about?" You shake your head, "I don't know but I do know he's handsome."

Although, handsome is an understatement. Hendery is...heavenly charming. Yeah, you think he suits heavenly more. However, Ten is still on top of the list. Because ten is hot as hell.

[07:27]

Spending time with cats is never on the summer bucket list but you think it completed the summer itself. You can die happily now. Not to mention now that Ten is here, summer is a bit warm for you now. Warm because you're currently holding his hand tightly-as if you'd let him go any second, on your way to watch a play.

Few hours earlier, he had invited you to watch his friend's play, Hendery, together. At first, you didn't think plays are for you. Heck, that thought never once appear in your mind. But seeing Ten was so desperate for you to be there with him, you thought, why not? It could never harm anyone.

Your heart feels giddy and fuzzy. As soon as he shows the tickets to the security, he pulls your hand excitedly. Perhaps he's just giving his friend his support.

Joy overtook you as he continues holding your hand even during the play which makes your focus on him, not the play. Though the only thing you remember is the title of the play; "Charming Lady." It is not a traditional play, Ten whispers.

It's my original idea, he grins. You scrunch your nose in confusion, plays requires money, you remember. So how in the world-oh...

It's my original idea, he grins. You scrunch your nose in confusion, plays requires money, you remember. So how in the world—oh. Ten's a famous chef's son and yet, he still doesn't know how to cook rice...for some reason (he has his mother why would he cook?). He's rich as hell, for crying out loud. Everyone would sacrifice themselves just to be served by his family. Their speciality in cooking raised everyone's standard on one's tasting buds whether by the texture, presentation or the taste itself. You once tried their signature, pineapple crab curry, cried and you swore to never discriminate food ever again.

"This...is voluntary. You could say I just want to share my world of arts with people for free. The tickets are exclusively given for people with love for art. I did some research of them...and it's intriguing." Ten lay back on his seat, careful not to spill his coffee onto the floor.

Coffee and plays, a combination you never know you need. It goes well together. The bittersweet longing taste of espresso laces within the dramatic plots of acted out scenes. Truly, a masterpiece.

[00:58]

Charming lady is a rather cliche story, you must say.

Charming lady is based off a woman's dream of becoming a wife to a rich man and travelling the world. And sadly, the man she loves moves away without her as he finds more opportunities in other countries. She would cry herself to sleep every night, wishing-maybe God would help.

Poor soul, you think.

Just like you.

Hopelessly in love with a man you know you would never have chance with. And to every each day you wish for him to look at you, may if it's just seconds, may if it's just a short while. You hope those twinkling eyes of his would shine seeing you, but you could only hope.

You hate fate.

As the story progresses, hendery is the protagonist, the villian or whatever Ten said. Now, Hendery's role is the most crucial affect to the whole plot. He thicken the play by simply pursuing the woman-a whole cliche, likewise.

But you know how it feels.

To see someone who's in love, but not you. You're desperate, you're selfish for wanting him. But how could the little heart of yours endure such a burden in the name of love? Whether it'd be yours or his. As you grew up, you understood the villain more this developing a hatred passion towards the selfish hero(es).

You couldn't shed a tear but something break your heart there.

You know Ten will be leaving again.

His love for dancing wouldn't get him anywhere if he stays here.

After the two of you watched the theatre, Ten suggested a cafe that sells good sweets. The evening is quiet beautiful today with the clouds blushing on the horizon, the sun spreading its last shiny crown for today. You look at the menu, chose one portion of banana milk smooth and a red bean flavoured bun while Ten orders Chai Tea for himself.

"Hey! I've been calling your name for 3 minutes now!!" Ten's voice sorts your thoughts back to reality. You whisk your head to look at him and apologize. "I was way in my mind." You rub your arms softly, the cold night of summer is a hassle. You may never feel his warmth again after this.

He makes an annoyed expression, "here's your smoothie. Banana. And that's probably the only thing I hate bout you, hoe." You snicker, "it's just a smoothie, Ten! You're just getting on your own nerves!" You let out a big laugh, one that make your stomach flips.

"Ew, we're definitely not soulmates." Ten says with a disgust, his tongue poking out and his eyebrows furrowed. He takes your hand in his, grasping it lightly as if you're as fragile as a glass. Your lips reach for the cold blended beverage and slowly sips. Ten watches is disbelief, his eyes narrowed-he's not a fond of fruit, his mother said 6 years ago.

"You know, that play was a first. I really appreciate it when you said you could come. I know it's not that great to you...because you've always hated love and stuff...but seeing my best friend showing up to give support is nice." His ears are red as a cherry, you noticed. Your breath got heavier as your chest thumps vigorously against your ribcage, begging to burst out.

Honestly, you don't really mind if he views you as just a friend. You are far more happy to be on his 'my loved ones' list. If you're able to make him happy, that's all that matters.

You sigh deeply, "what can I say to my parasite? I have to give everything of mine or you'd die." You ruffle his hair, smiling from ear to ear. Ten grins, like a cat, and your heart did a back flip.

"Let's go home."

Ten shakes his head upon hearing your suggestion. "Come on, (Y/n). It's been two weeks and we ever did was going to a cafe, work and sleep. Aren't you getting bored?" The man wiggle his eyebrows playfully and you know where is this going. You laugh, "Ten, I have work tomorrow and I can't afford to sleep late today."

Tomorrow's Tuesday and by now, you've just realised how time flew so fast. It feels like it was just yesterday Ten moved to your neighbourhood. It feels like it was just yesterday the first time the two of you met. It wasn't even special or dramatic like anyone's first loves, but...it is special at least to you.

Little things pasts like the waves. So you want to cherish everything before the end of the world. You are afraid of not completing the role of yours before you die but your mother always warn; "never rush into life or death will move forward." You look up, the soft night breeze softly gust onto your cheeks. A little goodnight by them. The stars are laid across the black canvas of the so called night sky.

Ten looks up too, "who said that?" He closes his eyes for a second, enjoying his youth while he still can before adulthood reaches his time. He continues, "anyways, I was going to tell you to let's go rob your cafe."

This caught your attention—he always does nonetheless. Your eyes widen as saucers, breath hitched, cheeks flushed from the cold,"are you crazy?" You stressed. Ten shrugs his shoulders and meet you in the eye. "For the cats, (Y/n). Think of the cats!" He exclaims dramatically—and you like that about him. He always care for little things, he's attentive of others. Ten may deny all of your sweet statements of his but you know better.

"You're still not over by that?" You roll your eyes and if not, you want to show him your eyeballs fall out of the sockets then put it back in. Just to show him how "annoyed" you are.

On his fourth day of vacation—1 summer free of notifications of "new assignment posted"—you had told him about how Mrs. Suh loves the cats but not enough to let them into her house. She said it reminds her of her late husband. "No, how could they let the cats caged overnight? That's like...a devil's son."

You turn to Ten, "Oh Ten, they're fed. They also will go to walk every morning. It's not like they're dying!" Your feet starts walking to its own pace on the concrete path. The city is quiet, peace and calm. Ten follows. Just like he always does and now, to you, it's time you go on your own paths for the sake of yourselves.

"Fine, fine. I admit I'm exaggerating." He thrusts his cold hands into the pocket of his denim jacket. Ten has things for fashion. Occasionally, he designs for small companies for savings or charity. You flash a grin,"do you still want to do it?" And Ten nod enthusiastically, excited.

You think for a minute and, "race you to the cafe!" You grasp onto your banana smoothie cup firmly, it's only half full. He seems to be taken aback, nonetheless, he starts chasing, shouting, "hey, that's like 20 miles on foot!"

Breathless, still on the run, you turn,"then you better get your foot on the damn pedal!"

Does Nakata ever cares about others? The outcome is a big fat no in red. But even for cats, there are some exceptions and Ten is the exception. The Siamese cat doesn't like anyone unless it's Ten Lee. But fuck the world for having only one Lee Yongqin.

[00:13]

Ten decide to only let Nakata out to avoid getting you fired.

He gently stroke the purring cat.

Oh, to be a cat is a blessing. To be pat by a man named Ten Lee is a blessing. You look in awe, "See, Nakata? I told you you're a 'tsundere'."

The cat glares, then proceeds back to enjoy his little massage therapy. He's too tired to argue you (or he just simply loves ignoring people). You chuckle, turning to Ten. "Do you want some coffee?"

Ten shakes his head briefly. "I don't want an adrenaline rush." You shrug your shoulders, his lost. "Oh please, as if college students aren't caffeine addicts. I'm dialling the pizza." You say, phone on your hand, dialling the local pizza. When you were a kid (actually still till this day), you develop a fear of ordering. And you absolutely hate it when your mom left you alone at the cashier because apparently she forgot to grab the sugar.

You had no money and you were nervous seeing the line had shorten up.

You ring up, and order one box of pepperoni. Classic choice. Nothing goes wrong with classics. Ten sighs, sinking into the torn couch. "Seriously, I live off pizza and coffee. Kun probably hates me for that." He smirks, remembering a friend from college. "There are so many reasons to hate you, darling. Hey, isn't Kun a music major?" You smirk.

Ten once told you about Kun, his roommate. Ten is the epitome of party of life and he could never turn down alcohol for God's sake. Because God forbid him being sober. And one time, he knocked out himself and Kun had to dragged his ass back home. Kun was mostly mad that he had to be responsible for Ten (because the lecturer would ask him about Ten's whereabouts). The whole campus knows they're roommates.

Ten's famous, it's expected.

And you somehow still remember it because 1)if you were to be in love, you will make sure to remember everything. 2)he complains about how kun sounds like his mom a lot—and you could never be anymore happy knowing there is someone taking care of him. 3)kun told you too. He also figured out on how much you're in love with Ten and quoted, "it's as if he's your world—no, your entire universe." And you couldn't agree more. You and kun are secretly friends behind Ten's back.

Preferably because you two gossips about him in the chat...a lot. He said they're for blackmailing if Ten ever threatens him. But you just answer, drop a basket of fruits on the welcoming mat, monotonously.

"Yeah, he always nag how we don't take care of health. Calories and whatever. Sometimes I wonder why he just don't take nutritions."

""Yeah, he always nag how we don't take care of health. Calories and whatever." Ten huffs, watching the cat jumps off his lap and dissapear somewhere between the wooden shelves. "He sounds like Winwin. That guy always nag about people's taste in coffee. He hates it when they order iced Americano because apparently, that's basic." You say with despite, because he did judge you for just ordering iced Americano. It isn't your fault for getting overwhelmed by the sudden tick of anxiety.

That was a year ago, the night you met Sicheng. It was Christmas and he was desperate to close the cafe and barely even got the cats into the cage.

Ten rolls his eyes, "tell me about it." But in the end, he knows you have a soft spot for Sicheng (though he never really know who is this man). That man is cute and has a thing for astrology? Sign (Y/n) the fuck up. Ten is still busy catching up with other people and it's selfish of you to think he'd give up his time just for you. You wish you're his only friend but Ten's an extrovert. He greets everyone and anyone.

You decide to take a bold step forward, "how's dancing?" The topic still hurts you a bit but maybe it's time to move on. What happened already happened. He looks at you dead in the eye. "You know, why can't I just dance and drop the history in dancing? Why do we have to use our brains too? It's exhausting!" He throws his arms into the air, letting out a wail. His focus now on you, he asks, "how about you?"

The question is blurry. The answer is ambiguous. Is he asking about how are you doing? Should you answer with, "oh I'm in love with you and it hurts when you weren't here," or "oh, everything's okay, even if my heart aches like shit and I nearly died from the butterflies you gave me," and you choose neither.

Instead, you reply with, "journalism is still shitty. But Miss Dahlia is shittier. She thinks the whole world revolves around her." You say with despite lacing between your teeth. You hate her with a passion for asking you to write an essay about inspiration. To be decent, you entered journalism to write articles about true crime stories.

"Elaborate."

"Please allow me to jump out of the window and bury myself into the ground."

"Straight to hell." He offers his first bump. And gladly greet him back.

"From, hell."

The doorbell rings. The pizza has arrived. You walk towards the door and grab Ten's wallet from his coat that's hanging at the door. He scowls, loud enough for you to know. You brush it off. Ten has been loving off you so it's time he returns the favour. He signed up the friendship contract, nonverbal, and it clearly states, "always feed your best friend." You smile to the delivery man and wave goodbye.

You take steps to the carpet and put the box of pizza on the coffee table. You pull your knees near your chest, taking a warm slice of pizza to relieve your hunger. "How are things for you?" You start.

"Well, my life is cool." He replies, toneless. Your question make him pursue his lips, recalling everything he has done in life. The question is subjective yet he feels as if you're slipping through the cracks of his fingers—and he is beyond fucking scared to lose you. But he knows that's selfish of him.

"No potential lovers?" You yawn, sleepiness has been taunting you for the night. You can't afford to sleep here or you're getting fired. And Sicheng will kill you for leaving him alone dealing with impatient customers who doesn't know how to appreciate baristas that works hard to serve the best beverage. Being a barista is hard but falling in love with Ten is harder.

Ten stretch his arm, "not really, college is hectic for love. Too hectic." You could see his bruises on the legs as his jeans rolled up a bit. Dancers has them and he always said that it's fine and normal. Since dancers uses their bodies a lot, it's almost a routine for bruises to come along on the way.

"Have you ever been in love, Ten?" That caught him off guard. Not once you have asked him about love. It comes naturally to him. To him, love is something he wants to feel and share. That's the reason he chose dancing. To share people about his love for art performance by simply moving his body with the music. It's like fluid. You go wherever music takes you.

You take a deep breath. Love to you is completely selfish. You have no idea how to pursue love in any ways.

"My friends there...they're in love. They found someone to cherish romantically. They found someone to love and sometimes...I feel left out. They hang out with their partners on holidays and I can't really expect them to be free always." So you let it out. Those hidden feelings everytime you felt around your friends. You don't want to say you're desperate to be loved, rather you want someone to love.

After all, love is the reason of existence. To be a human is to feel emotions, to be hurt and to hurt, to make mistakes and be one sometimes.

Ten is silent. And you don't really mind, at all. So you continue, spilling your emotions and left no crumbs."My family keeps pestering me to find someone. You know how I am. I don't believe in love at first sight. I want a love that starts from a relationship. Trust is earned." He agrees by nodding silently. He doesn't need to say anything unless need to be.

"I wish I could live in a cottage with cats." You let out a breathless laugh, tears threatening to spill like pearl beads falling. He joins in,"oh, to live in a cottage core aesthetic," draping his arm over his forehead and clutch his chest.

"Sometimes, I wish I have someone too." You confess, looking away from him. Gazing at the stars, your cheeks flushed. You have no intention of hinting on him but hey, we live once. So fuck it.

Ten murmurs under his breath, "what if they're close?" He decides for himself. He's a grown man and Sicheng thinks—for some reason—fate holds everything and Ten thinks otherwise. As if the stars had written for him to be in love with you, then so be it. If he loves, he loves hard.

"Wha—" you don't have enough time. Ten says that a lot because he thinks you're going to drift away once again so he crashes his lips onto yours.

The kiss isn't the one you'd call a great one. However, it's the kind of kiss that would still leave butterflies in your stomach. The two of you are still new about this, he doesn't ask you to define and neither do you. The kiss sent sparks all over your body, he doesn't really know how to lead. But it's okay, kisses can wait to be perfected —with practice.

Everything is hazy and love is still unfair. Love is still a question no one could ever answer, playing with every human beings feelings. But that's okay because you can take slow steps with Ten, to define the journey. But you know he's going to be with you till the end of the world. Because he passed his awkward angsty teenage hears with you, he was there when you pulled your wisdom teeth out, he was there when you lost Thian and helped you to move on from it (hopefully the cat is fine wherever he is).

The spring ended and it's time for a new summer full of hope and sparks of potential love.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Shen Wei Serving Lewks, Part 7

(Masterpost)

Look 30

Swamp coat...no wait, hang on.

Upon close inspection, this is not Swamp Coat, but a different loose trench coat in Swamp color. What the fuck, Shen Wei! Borrow one of your boyfriend’s coats again, pretty please?

Both times this tunic/coat outfit has appeared on Shen Wei, Zhao Yunlan was wearing this gorgeous tailored denim number, with perfectly fitted shoulders and a nipped in waist. Sigh.

Anyway, Swamp Coat 2.0 is nicer than 1.0, and Shen Wei is wearing it with a with an immaculate super-casual loose white tunic with a band collar, so he looks beautiful even though this ensemble is decidedly meh. 

As Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan get closer, Shen Wei’s wardrobe becomes looser and more casual, which is probably good for his psyche so...okay. 

In addition to layers of loose fabric, this look features a checkered nosebleed hanky and the angriest face he has ever turned on Zhao Yunlan. 

Along with definitely not kissing

(More behind the cut!)

And definitely not having a massive grope session like the last time Shen Wei got between Zhao Yunlan’s knees on this lab table.

Once the anger passes, however, this is a very good look for making out in a taxi with a boy who has excellent taste in coats. 

Bonus Look 2: ZY’s Turn to Be Angry

This look belongs to Zhao Yunlan, who is wearing a single soft layer with a wide exposed neck so he can have an intense argument and hand touching with Shen Wei. This is Zhao Yunlan’s at home look, without the extra layer (vest or jacket, in a tough fabric) he always wears except when he’s alone with Shen Wei.

Shen Wei is like, no it’s fine honey, slicing my arm open is just a thing I do so I can eventually die spectacularly.  Also I drained my life force for you, don’t make a big deal of it you know I hate when you make a big deal of things. 

For once Zhao Yunlan gets to be the overprotective, upset partner in the relationship and also maybe the big spoon for a change. In keeping with his personality, he expresses himself explosively... 

...while Shen Wei quietly leaks out emotions like the black smoke leaking from his wrist.

This is Zhao Yunlan without his armor, his swagger, his smile; this might be the only time he is as vulnerable with Shen Wei as Shen Wei (always) is with him. 

Look 31

Shen Wei wears his blue double-breasted wedding crasher suit to begin his long, long relationship with this pillar.

This look features chains, more chains, and long conversations with ridiculous smoke effects. 

Bonus Look 3 - ZY Rescue Trench

Now THAT is a trench coat. Do you hear me, Shen Wei's Swamp Coats?

Hilariously, we are meant to believe this superbly fitted coat with its itty bitty waist and this perfectly sized gun belt are what Zhao Yunlan took off of this schlubby guard. Zhao Yunlan DOES have magic powers! 

This is a good outfit for convincing your lover to give up his relationship with a malevolent pillar and come home with you. 

Did I hastily photoshop Smoke Dude out of that rescue picture? I did.

Is this just a gratuitous picture of freshly-unchained Shen Wei looking upset and Zhao Yunlan comforting him? It is. Shout out to all the H/C fans!

Look 32

This look is a grey suit with a white grid pattern, and striped red and blue accent fabric on the pocket and under the collar.  This was briefly featured way back in the trauma cake arc. Here Shen Wei is also wearing a fresh cravat in grey tones. 

Shen Wei had been wearing a narrower range of outfits lately because he doesn't have enough drawers at Zhao Yunlan's place, so he must have made a brief stop at his apartment to get some more things. 

At home with Zhao Yunlan, Shen Wei wears this look with a bare face and neck, chilling in his white shirt with the collar stiffeners. I'm going to call them that forever; you can't stop me.  Note how the shirt has darts (the vertical seams from his shoulder blades to his waist) so that it fits perfectly across the back.

This is a good look for lovingly preparing fresh fruit for your candy-addicted beloved and then watching him while he sleeps. 

Shen Wei’s ass is now chainless, alas, but these trousers are doing yeoman’s werk work.  

While Zhao Yunlan sleeps, Shen Wei takes the opportunity to check up on his special pendant necklace that he bought at a bong shop when he was in college.

Back in the full ensemble, Shen Wei is ready to have a haberdashery throwdown with his jerkass father-in-law, who normally has serious game in a plum coat and patterned vest.  

Today Pop Zhao has unexpectedly said “fuck it” and worn a brown sweater and beige trench. 

Don’t encourage Shen Wei’s boring taste in coats, Pop Zhao!

After easily winning the best-dressed award at tea, Shen Wei accessorizes his look with cheekbones that could cut glass, and his best “oops, busted” face when Zhao Yunlan sees him hanging out with the parent ZY hates so much that he has the same job and facial hair as him.

That leads to a wonderfully layered interaction, in which Shen Wei just kind of stands in front of Zhao Yunlan refusing to engage with his need for control, while Zhao Yunlan roasts Shen Wei for being untrustworthy...and then offers him a ride back to the office.

Guardian is so good at capturing the constantly-fluctuating state of a deep relationship, in which you can be fighting on one level and totally fine on another level; where you’re going to have a donnybrook with your lover but first you’re going to get a decent meal into them. 

Skipping!

We’re skipping over the increasingly bloody tee-shirt ensemble that appears in the final episodes. That look says, “anti-gay narrative tropes suck.” 

Instead, check out this beauty that Shen Wei wore for one poorly-lit scene early in the show. This is the only time he wears a fully-matched 3-piece suit and he SLAYS in it. And then puts it in mothballs forever. 

I guess when you’re wearing an outfit the first time your sweetheart breaks into your apartment and disorganizes your panty drawer, you only want to wear it for the most special occasions after that. 

Look 33

After a bunch of unnecessary yet compellingly-acted death, Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan meet up outside of time and space in a Windows 95 screensaver.  

[That is a Gen X joke. OP is old.] 

Shen Wei’s look for this meeting is the same one he wore the day they met in the modern world - the double-breasted 10-button vest, with arm garters and now also (SIGH) tears in his eyes. Instead of that, here is an infinite loop of Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan talking over dinner in their kitchen, because screw Episode 40. 

Look 34

Exiting the screensaver, Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan fall out into the AU of your choice, because they realize that they left the wormhole together last time so it shouldn’t be too difficult to leave it together this time. They can just hold hands while they leave, for fuck’s sake. 

In the AU of your choice they get married in these beautiful suits, as seen in Bazaar magazine. 

Shen Wei’s look here features tousled hair and the glasses-free look he prefers when he’s with his true love. This is the first black suit we’ve seen him in, and he’s doing fine work in it, particularly with the gold bola thingy he’s wearing at the collar.  Zhao Yunlan is so hot here that only Shen Wei dares to touch him.

Look 35

For the beach party they throw for their AU friends and neighbors a month after the wedding, (also courtesy of Bazaar’s photoshoot) Shen Wei chooses this short-legged suit with white canvas shoes, a lovely display of calf and a sprinkling of leg hair. 

This look says, I love you forever and I'm pretty sure I can give you a spinal adjustment using only my leg muscles. 

Shen Wei has replaced his bong-shop pendant with a tasteful diamond bar necklace, which was an apology gift from Zhao Yunlan after ZY intentionally accidentally set fire to Swamp Coats 1 through 4. 

Near his heart Shen Wei is wearing a tie pin (sans tie) that’s made out of a lollipop stick. 

Preview

The next post features Shen Wei’s cosplay looks including Black Robe Envoy and Ye Zun! 

[t-lostinworlds]

Green-Eyed (Tom Holland)

A/N: This was supposed to be short but I got carried away as always. I don’t think this is the best I’ve written but I’m hoping it’s not as shit as the usual aha. Also to the anon I’m sorry if this took a lil longer than expected hun. Hope you still like it! <3

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Requested:

Warnings: A dick-ish (if u squint) jealous!Tom and typos.

Word Count: 3.6k

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

"Pretty please?" Tom dragged out his last word as he rested his head sweetly on your shoulder, sporting his best puppy-dog eyes with bottom lip pouted to make it harder for you to resist him.

You groaned in dismay as you threw your head back on the couch, eyes screwed shut to try and ignore the face of your handsome but very annoying best friend. "Why me Tom? And why'd you ask me this so fucking last minute?"

Tom has decided to tell you just now that there's a charity gala tomorrow, and that he wants you to be his plus one. Countless of a-list celebrities would be there to support different causes, so imagine the upmost dread you're feeling just thinking about joining Tom when that wasn't even your type of crowd, when you've never been to an event like it to begin with. Plus, you know he will have friends there too, if he hangs out with them, what would you do then?

The event tomorrow starts at six p.m., and he's just told you this now, clock showing eight-thirty p.m., who would not be annoyed? Better yet, who wouldn't be terrified?

"You're my best friend, you're the one I want to the there with. Come on, it's for charity, you never say no to charity."

This motherfucker...

You turned to him with a glare, arms crossed over your chest at his foul play. "You're not playing fair you know that."

Tom sat straight back up, body turned fully to face you, eyes still showing the same gleam as he pressed his palms together, resting it under his chin to beg. "Just please? You won't feel left out I promise. I'll be right there with you all night." He reassures as if he was able to read your mind, but being friends for long enough, you had no doubts that he probably could, to an extent of course.

Let's be honest, there was no way you'd say no. One, it's for charity; and two, it's Tom for heaven's sake, you never can. But the fact that you are simply unprepared to go to an event like this, it's daunting.

"I don't even have anything to wear."

Tom only chuckled sheepishly at that, hand coming up to rub on his shoulder, a nervous tick of his you've grown to adore, even if you've been trying so hard not to.

Got to have those boundaries.

"Uh, I already bought you a dress and Christine is going to help you with everything else. So please say yes." He shot you the brightest smile he could muster, one where it showed his rows of teeth with his eyes all crinkled. You blinked at him in deep surprise.

He already had this thought out huh?

"You are unbelievable Holland." You grumbled.

Tom chuckled in response, smug grin in play as he wriggles his brows at you. "Now, will you do me the honors of coming to the gala with me Y/N?" You rolled your eyes at him, sighing in disbelief but nodded anyway.

"Fine."

And just like the kid that he is, Tom threw his hands up in the air, shouting a 'yay' in pure glee before wrapping his arms around your rigid form to give you a tight squeeze, you playfully pushing him away in feign annoyance.

You were still nervous. How can you not be when you have no idea what to expect during this gala, who you were going to meet, but with one look at this stupid boy—who is also a big celebrity which you tend to forget—beside you, you felt yourself relax a little.

How bad can it be?

***

"Wow."

Tom gushed, the phone he had on hand lowering ever so dramatically, tearing his eyes off of the screen to scan you from head to toe. You felt your cheeks warm at his reaction. "Does it look okay?"

"Okay? You look fucking gorgeous. I knew I picked the right dress." He exclaimed all proud, sauntering over to you looking incredibly handsome himself, the color of his suit—not exactly matching—but coordinating with yours just right.

"You did."

Best believe you're the last person to stroke this man's ego, but you have to give credit where credit is due, he did pick the right dress.

It was a short, red satin dress with the waist embezzled with a silver crystal belt. The back was bare along with a plunging v-neckline to match, making it look sexy and classy at the same time. And the fact that it fitted you perfectly, it made you feel elegantly beautiful in the most sophisticated way.

How has Tom managed to get you the perfect size? He "borrowed"—his choice of word when you insisted he stole it—one of your dresses and used it as a guide. A clever boy.

Your hair was up in a messy bun, small curls falling freely to frame your face, one that sported just enough make up just to enhance your natural beauty and not make it look superficial.

"Damn, I can't take my eyes off of you." Tom muttered under his breath, eyes still glued to your figure and you can't stop your heart from skipping a beat at that.

Whether he meant to say that out loud, you don't know, unable to decide if he was playing with you in a best-friend-banter kind of way or if there was an underlying meaning in his tone, but you can't seem to think about that now. Not when the nerves were already eating you up inside out just thinking about the event, thinking about which celebrity you were going to meet and if you weren't going to make a big fool out of yourself, so you cleared your throat.

"Tom quit ogling we're going to be late."

Tom shook his head with a shy chuckle, blush prominent on his cheek as he made way for you with a curtsy. "After you mi lady."

"Thank you Christine!" Tom called out before both of you were out the door, him helping you in his car like the gentleman that he is and then driving towards this most awaited gala.

***

You were actually having fun.

Tom has introduced you to a few of his 'famous' friends and you were delighted to see that they were just as sweet and kind. You've met a couple artists here and there too, just casual conversations, one after the other, you and Tom going through it together as he's never left your side the moment you two arrived, just as promised.

That until he decided to get you a drink.

Standing in your place you looked around the extravagant hall of the humongous mansion—or castle more like it—admiring the huge chandeliers that adorned the ceiling along with the beautiful murals that coated the space. You were busy appreciating the artwork that you didn't notice someone was approaching until they spoke.

"Hi, I'm Calum." Startled, you let out a small squeak as you looked for the owner of the voice, eyes meeting brown ones and you felt your whole face heat up once you recognized who it was.

Calum Hood from 5 Seconds of Summer, the band you've been a big fan of for how many years now.

You shook his hand with a shy smile, whole body going timid once he gave it a gentle squeeze before letting go. "Oh, hi, uh Y/N, and yes I know who you are. I love your new album."

"Oh really, thank you so much." Calum chuckled with a grateful nod, eyes looking at you in a way that's made the butterflies in your stomach tingle a little.

"I don't mean to come off weird but I saw you just standing there and you look really beautiful and I needed to say hi." You blinked, surprised at his words.

What kind of fanfiction is this?

You flashed him a sweet smile, a small giggle coming out of you as you responded bashfully. "Thank you. You look really good too."

The conversation just took off from there. You asked him about their new music while he asks you anything mundane that comes to his mind. You keep on laughing at something clever or stupid he had said, proximity just close enough to prove that you were having a great time. When you finally calmed down, Calum cleared his throat, hand rubbing behind his neck nervously.

"Mind if I get you a drink?"

Before you could even do as much as move your mouth to give him an answer, a deep voice spoke just behind you,

"I'm sorry but she already has one."

Your head snap back to see Tom, face stern with jaw clenched tightly, a certain glint coating eyes. The obvious anger you can see yes, but there's something else mixed with it, one you couldn't pinpoint as to what exactly it is yet.

"Ah, Mr. Tom Holland. Nice to meet you mate." Calum greeted politely, the bloke already knowing that you came here with Tom having that you've told him.

"Likewise." Tom's lips only quirked up just a tad bit as he took Calum's hand with a tight grip, not too obvious but you noticed it nonetheless. Calum only chuckled with a knowing nod, giving Tom a certain look— like he realized something you haven't—before turning to you with a charming smile.

"I'll leave you two to it. It was nice meeting you Y/N." Calum says as he pulls you in for a warm hug, your arms wrapping around him with a small squeeze in return as you responded with just as much delight. "You too Calum."

You watched him walk away, Calum giving you one last look over his shoulder with a small wave before disappearing into the crowd.

"Well, there goes my daydream of being a musician's girlfriend, touring around the world while singing their songs in the crowd and being their number one fan." You joked, but Tom didn't find even the tiniest of humor in your statement. In fact, it only made him angrier, nostrils flaring as he gave you a pointed eye roll.

You furrowed your brows at him, utter confusion covering you from head to toe at the look of pure disdain on your best friend's features. "What's up with you?"

"Nothing." Tom shrugged, eyes never meeting yours since the moment he got back from fetching you a drink, said drink that's in his hand but by the looks of it, he has no plan on giving it to you, not even his full attention.

"Well, it surely doesn't look like it's nothing Tom." You frowned at him in concern, hand going up to give him comfort but he blatantly rejected the gesture.

"Let's call it a night, I'm not feeling well." He grumbled, not even waiting for an answer as he quickly turned on his heel and walked away. You tried your best to catch up with him, following closely behind with nothing but bewilderment plastered on your face, still oblivious to the reason of his sudden change in attitude.

"Tom, slow down a sec." He ignores, still walking at a fast pace, not having any sense of empathy at the fact that you were wearing high heels. That's when you felt your anger boil too.

"You know what. Fuck it, if you're going to be a bitch for no goddamn reason then I'm taking a cab." You hissed, and that made him stop. Tom took one deep breath before turning sideways, offering you his arm to hold, gaze still avoiding yours at all costs.

You rolled your eyes and moved ahead, too much pride coursing through you to let his bitchy attitude slide, making sure to bump his arm purposely as you quickly made your way to the parking lot with Tom now following you.

***

The ride home was silent to the point that it was deafening, Tom not paying you any mind as if you weren't there at all.

You now understand that he was angry at you, fuming even. If the way his face was practically red up to the tips of his ears, the way you can practically feel the heat radiate off him wasn't a dead giveaway, then, the tight grip he had on the steering wheel and the speed the car was going, would be.

But as to why exactly that is? You have no fucking idea. As far as you know, you did absolutely nothing wrong.

Letting out a deep sigh, you turned your body to face him fully, just wanting to get this over and done with. "Tom, tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing." He muttered under his breath, eyes dead set on the road ahead. You scoffed. "Don't fucking lie to me."

"I said it's fucking nothing now leave me the fuck alone." Tom barked, the car lurching forward at his sudden burst of frustration.

You were never one to sit still and take bullshit, especially when it's Tom being a dickhead. When that happens due to whatever reason, you're for sure the one the first one to call him out on it. Besides, him driving this fast while angry is never safe.

"That's it, pull over."

"What—"

"Pull over or I'm going to open this fucking door without hesitation." Tom groaned, fully infuriated but did as told knowing you were nowhere near playing, just the tone you had, he wasn't going to risk it.

Once he put the car in park you shot him a glare, voice stern as you ordered. "Get out of the fucking car Tom."

He didn't say another word of protest as he harshly took his seatbelt off and got out of the car, slamming the door shut to make a point of how mad he was.

You were glad the place where the gala was held was detached from the city, a forty-five minute drive to the nearest highway, so the road was pretty much deserted, nothing but endless trees in view. The only source of light was a couple of street lamps, the car's headlights and the bright, full moon that shone high above.

You followed him out and in front of the car, leaning your weight on the hood as you stared at the tensed back of your best friend.

"Now tell me what the fuck is going on with you." When he didn't even do as much as turn around you growled in warning.

"Thomas."

"Alright!" With one deep breath, he finally turned to face you, jaw still set as he shoved both of his hands in the pockets of his slacks, a two-second pause before he finally spoke.

"I'm just frustrated, angry and fucking annoyed." Tom's voice turned low, his eyes casted on the grass where he was standing on, just two feet away from your place on the car.

"At me?"

He sighed, taking sharp intakes of breaths before finally lifting his head up to meet your eyes, so many emotions swimming in his brown ones with a frown on his lips to complete his whole troubled look.

"No, not entirely at least. I'm just, I left you for a second and when I came back the next thing I know you're having such a great time, laughing and flirting with this Calum guy—"

"Calum Hood."

"I don't fucking care what his last name is." Tom snapped, and that's when everything fell into place for you, lips pursed as you tried your best not to break into a smile.

"What is so wrong with me flirting with him Tom?"

The boy lets out a exasperated sigh at that, hand coming up to run through his hair in frustration that it made a curl go astray, a tasteful sight to you especially with him all agitated.

"I just didn't like the way it made me feel okay? Just seeing you laughing at his jokes, getting so close to him at times, just seeing you with someone else I just, it's just—"

"It makes you jealous?" You finished his sentence for him, your heart pounding due to excitement, warmth filling you up at the thought of your best friend getting riled up just thinking about you with another guy, because you feel just the same when you see him with another girl.

"Yes goddammit! It makes me so fucking jealous!" Tom exclaimed, all fucks thrown out the window as every feeling his been bottling up for years now comes bursting out, spilling right on the brim. "It was hard as is trying to fend off these guys who can't stop staring at you, who won't stop hovering over you because by the gods above you look absolutely breathtaking tonight. I really can't blame them because you stole the whole room, but it doesn't make me feel any less frustrated."

"Frustrated on what Tom?" You asked softly, his gaze cutting off with yours as he lets out a sigh, hands falling limp on his sides as he looked up at the starry sky.

"Frustrated because I wanted nothing more than to pull you closer to me, to wrap my arm around your waist to make them back off, but I couldn’t, I had no right to. I wanted to make them see that you're there with me so they need to fucking scram, but what power do I have? I'm just your best friend." Tom was pacing now, going on a full on rant with his hands swinging about to express his emotions and you let him. You sat still and watched as he pours all his heart out, watched with a stupid wide grin on your lips.

"But I want to be more than that Y/N. I don't want to be just your best friend and tonight just slapped me in the fucking face that I genuinely don’t want to be with anyone else but you. But then you went and said that you wanted to be a musician's girlfriend, it just made me so mad and hurt and just—" He stopped himself, head hanging low as he tried to regain his breathing.

You shook your head at the boy with sigh. "I was kidding Tom. I don't want to be a musician's girlfriend; I want to be an actor's, the one who plays Spider-Man to be quite specific."

The way his head shot up so quick to look at you in pure shock made you laugh, hopeful brown orbs staring you down as he made his way towards your spot on the car. You uncrossed your legs as you let him in between them, let him move even closer until his hands took home right on your waist, giving them a tender squeeze as a smug grin slowly formed on his lips.

"You mean—"

"You know, Andrew Garfield, I heard he's single again." You shrugged casually, teasing smirk in play, your little revenge for him being kind of a dick just earlier. Tom's head fell forward to land on your shoulder, arms wrapping fully around your form with a proper whine.

"Y/N."

You let out a hearty laugh, cupping his face with both hands as you pull him off of you, just enough to be able to look at those lovely brown orbs, his bottom lip all jutted out making him look unbearable adorable.

"Of course I meant you, you idiot. There no one else I want to be with other than you Tom." A sweet chuckle escaped Tom's lips as he pressed his forehead against yours, vicinity rightly close to be able to let the tips of your nose brush against each other.

"How are you so beautiful?" Tom sighed in pure adoration. You didn't respond with words, you just tilted your head a little to place your lips right on his, satisfied breaths ringing in your ears as the two of you cherished the feeling that you've been craving for far too long, mouths fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces, a kiss filled with nothing but utter bliss, pure love.

"I love you." Tom whispered the moment you pulled away, eyes showing not but sincerity and you felt your heart grow ten times its usual size. You hummed, fingers playing with his hair on the nape of his neck fondly. "And I love you, you jealous dork."

With a few more kisses under the moonlight—some sweet and chaste, some not so much—the cold air finally got to the both of you, making your way back inside the car with wide smiles, unable to wipe them off.

"Let's go back to the gala?" Tom grinned, left hand steering while the other sat warmly on top of your thigh, a gesture so sweet until he decides to give it a teasing squeeze every now and then. "What, so you can reintroduce me to everyone, now as your girlfriend and not your best friend?" You joked to which Tom only shrugged with a hum. "I don't see why not."

You shook your head at your man, squaring your shoulders as you said nonchalantly. "I mean, if you want to it's okay. The matching pair I have under this dress can wait."

Tom choked at that, tearing his eyes off the road to give you a swift glance to see if you were serious or not. You only shot him a knowing wink in response, lips curved up teasingly, but nowhere did it show on your face that you were lying with what you just said.

That's made you arrive back home in lesser time that's for sure.

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