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smokestarrules · 1 year

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Why Caleb & Evelyn’s Absence is Good Writing

So if you don’t know me, I’m a big fan of Caleb and Evelyn (Clawthorne. Because I’m sure). I’m fascinated with their story -- I wrote an entire fic about them in 2022 before we even knew Evelyn’s name -- and I find them both incredibly interesting considering what is both shown about them and not. Despite that, I had a feeling that neither of them would make an appearance in Watching and Dreaming, and I was right.

Understandably so, some people were disappointed with that decision, that they were hoping for an entire flashback scene or something close to it. But while that also appeals to me -- oh my god does it appeal to me -- I also really enjoy the intangibility of it all.

So, I have three reasons as to why I like that Caleb and Evelyn didn’t show up again, which I’ll go through in no particular order. The rest of this post will be under a cut because it’ll probably get pretty lengthy.

1) Haunting The Narrative

Half of Caleb and Evelyn’s intrigue comes from the fact that in the end, we really don’t know all that much about them. Everything that we do know is from second-hand accounts at best and the rest of their story is up to your own singular interpretation; we only know the bare bones of their tale, but at the same time, they’re both extremely monumental to the main plot of the show.

They’re hardly ever shown centered on-screen (in Evelyn’s case, never), and again, despite their huge impact on the characters and world even 400 years later, it’s part of their charm that... they’re mysterious. You’re not meant to know much about them, not meant to perceive them as normal characters. Caleb never speaks in the show, Evelyn hardly even appears, and in the end, they’re not meant to be understood.

Caleb seems to have undergone some semblance of a redemption, but that’s only alluded to considering how he ends up dead; the implied is everything, and getting a concrete answer would, in my opinion, ruin part of what makes this story so fascinating.

Of course, the biggest argument I’ve seen against this idea is that casual viewers of the show, the ones who don’t care about combing the background of Hollow Mind for lore about Emperor Belos’ big brother, will be confused without the lack of context. And... I disagree.

Sure, maybe some people haven’t seen the portraits from Hollow Mind, but they’ve certainly seen Caleb when Gus went through Philip’s mind in King’s Tide. Maybe they missed the book about Grimwalkers in Labyrinth Runners, but they definitely caught Caleb in Philip’s diary during Elsewhere and Elsewhen. Then, in Thanks to Them, there’s an entire scene in which Masha very kindly gives an entire summary on the topic, tipping off both the main characters and anyone else in the audience who may be confused.

The story’s all there, both in the background and in the forefront of the show, and it’s weaved in so beautifully that it’s hard for me to believe that anyone would see Caleb in For the Future (of which is a scene I will be talking about soon) and have absolutely no idea who he is.

So in the end, I think having a more clear understanding of the going-ons that set everything into motion would be almost doing a disservice to the fans who have spent their time piecing things together and it’s also not really necessary in the first place. It’d be nice, and I’m sure I would have gone even more insane with more to analyze, but with the way this show has always portrayed Caleb and Evelyn, them fading into obscurity in the final episode just seems... fitting.

2) Philip Doesn’t Really Deserve Closure

It’s a simple fact: Philip Wittebane is kind of a fucked-up guy.

Besides a flashback scene, another idea for a potential Caleb and Evelyn appearance that I saw tossed around most was this: it’s the end, Philip’s about to be defeated, and in the interim, he sees his brother one last time.

Either he’s given forgiveness or not, Caleb being present at his lowest moment would undoubtedly mean something to Philip; over the centuries he’s spent a significant amount of time trying to remake his brother -- to make him better -- and no matter how you feel about him, Philip is a tortured soul. Perhaps Caleb could help him accept his inevitable death, perhaps he could have one last chance for Philip to have a moment of genuine vulnerability.

He’d die with the ghost of his brother and the ghost of his brother’s wife looking over him, and he’d die content... maybe.

Or you can go the other route:

On the other hand, maybe Philip goes to his death kicking and screaming the whole way, with Caleb and Evelyn staring him down as he’s ultimately annihilated for good. The tale of two brothers is over, and while Caleb is the one who perished first, centuries ago now, it’s Philip who is undoubtedly the one who loses in the end.

The last thing Philip sees is his brother’s hateful, tired face, and he dies with that image.

Of course, that’s the one that sounds better to me; Philip is not a villain you could ever redeem (a cruel upbringing will not excuse everything) and to even make an attempt at it would feel cheap and be completely unaligned with ToH’s core values, which actively (and correctly) condemn people like him.

The problem with both of these ideas, different as they are, is that both of them give Philip a sense of closure that he simply does not deserve to have been rewarded with. Either way, he knows for sure how his brother would feel about him -- or, at the very least, how he believes his brother should feel about him -- and it’s just that, the knowing, that rubs me the wrong way.

In the end, the last time Philip sees his brother is in this scene in For the Future, and it’s safe to say that there’s no actual closure or anything close to it here. Whether or not you believe this is actually Caleb or just Philip hallucinating him (personally I subscribe to the latter), it doesn’t really matter because the idea stays the same.

Philip spends this scene snarling curses at his unyielding brother -- who seems to be, notably, his younger self, given his hair length -- while also actively melting away in front of his eyes. Philip is the one who’s alive, Philip is the one who (he believes) is on the right side of history, and yet Philip is also the one on his knees, his entire body disintegrating slowly due to his own choices.

As the episode continues, it’s shown that Philip is seeing Caleb and the other Grimwalkers that he’s likely killed as well, and they’re clearly more of a taunt to his already-collapsing mental state than anything else. Again I reassert my opinion that they’re not actually there, that they’re simply Philip hallucinating in one of his weakest moments yet, and because of that, there is no answer given.

They stare; he tells them to “Shut up” and they don’t react in the slightest. They watch and they stare and they dare him to care about them in any way and the entire scene is just... a precipice. Eventually they disappear for good, and Philip moves on without even trying to process this phenomenon.

Basically what I'm saying is that Caleb appearing in Philip’s last moments would give him too much credit. And that actually leads us right into the final point I want to make, which is this:

3) Caleb Wasn’t Actually That Important To Philip

In the long run, at the very least.

Now hear me out. When I say ‘important’, I don’t mean that what happened with Caleb didn’t have long-lasting effects on Philip, because that’s simply not true; otherwise, my entire last point would be meaningless. Obviously, it’s Caleb (and to a lesser extent, Evelyn) who can be credited with initially setting Philip down this path; Caleb was probably the most stable thing in Philip’s early life, and losing him in a way that felt like abandonment -- and then killing him -- is undoubtedly something that would stick with you for a lifetime, 400 years or not.

But Caleb’s death is also largely an excuse.

Much in the same way that “saving humanity” is an excuse for Philip to commit the atrocities he does, Caleb’s betrayal pushing him towards that path and his subsequent attempts at bringing him back are also an excuse.

Here’s the thing: if Philip was genuinely passionate about remaking his brother -- but better -- then he’d care about the Grimwalkers more than he does. If Philip actually considered every Grimwalker a potential Caleb that he could just fix, then he would not have been able to dispose of them so coldly. There’s dozens of their corpses piled under the Skull, yet he only even commits to memory a rare few. Even Hunter, the closest to Caleb a Grimwalker’s ever gotten, was given a Sigil! A Sigil, which tells me that no matter what, no matter how perfect Hunter may have turned out, Philip was never going to let him survive the Day of Unity.

True, there’s definitely a part of Philip that hates the Grimwalkers because they can’t be Caleb, at least not in the way he thinks he needs (which is impossible, but I digress) there’s also a part that I think is just... carrying on because this is what he’s done for the past few centuries. It’d feel like giving up on himself to give up on the prospect of having Caleb beside him again, but there’s no passion anymore.

In the end, I think Papa Titan said it best:

“...That man doesn’t care about anything but his need to be the hero in his own delusion.”

That’s exactly it. Philip believes himself as the hero of the story, as someone who’s been suffering for centuries but will one day finally get the ending that he deserves. He goes through all of this not because he wants to go home and not because he wishes he could return to the life he and his brother once had, but because he so desperately wants to believe in the delusion that he is a person doing all the things he does for good.

You don’t live for over 400 years working towards a singular moment without at least having the thought that maybe what you’re doing is incorrect. But Philip has never let those supposed doubts stop him, and by the time the series is ending, nothing matters except his goal -- to see the destruction of every last witch and demon on the Boiling Isles.

Which is why, in this final scene of his, there’s not a single mention of his brother. His brother, who he’s spent the last 400 years trying to save; his brother, who, by learning to be better, essentially kickstarted Philip’s entire goal, but it became so twisted so quickly as Philip subconsciously decided that he was the only one who could ever fix things.

To put it simply: Philip’s only ever been concerned with himself. His idea of morality, his vision of the Boiling Isles, his opinions on the witches that live there. Nothing else matters; Caleb is a crutch to fall back on and so is the idea that Philip’s saving anyone, it’s all just more vindication to feed into his hero complex, because he’s the only one that really matters. He’s human and Luz is human and so they’re redeemable, but he stopped seeing Caleb as human the moment he saw him with Evelyn.

In the end, I feel as if it’s almost safe to say that Caleb and Evelyn as constructs are more important to the all-encompassing plot than they are to Philip specifically; they set him on his path, sure, but his descent into madness almost feels inevitable, death of his brother or not. He blames his own misfortune on them, and the fact that they're never quite seen makes Philip’s villainous qualities that much more emphasized, I think.

Overall, I loved Watching and Dreaming and I loved ToH and I think the characters of Caleb and Evelyn are some of the most haunting I’ve ever encountered, literally and metaphorically.

Their story is largely up in the air, but it still gets told, you just have to look for it. That's their charm, that’s why they’re interesting to me, and that’s why I am content with getting the amount we got of them.

#lmfao me jokingly putting this through a word counter like. 400 words or smth right???#[2095]......#thats probably fine #toh #toh spoilers #the owl house #the owl house spoilers #philip wittebane #emperor belos #caleb wittebane #evelyn clawthorne #luz noceda #smokey speaks #500

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memekais · 2 months

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epic the musical sentence starters. the circe saga. feel free to change pronouns as needed!

puppeteer

i have something that i must confess, something that i must get off my chest. until it is said, i cannot rest.

there's only so much left we can endure.

whatever you need to say can wait some more - of that, i'm sure.

[name], back so soon? where's the rest of your crew?

we came across a palace. inside we heard a voice.

nothing could prepare us for the power that awaited inside...

sir, since we left home we've faced a variety of foes from a wide range of places - gods, monsters, you know the roster, hostile creatures that we could resist.

this was a hell of a twist, cause we are weak to a power like this.

welcome to the best part of your lives.

go ahead and rest wherever you like.

i got you, don't worry [name]'s got you now.

i bet you're tired from the years spent on your feet.

think of your past and your mistakes.. they'll be the last mistakes you'll make.

i got all the power, yeah, i got all the power.

no, i'm not a player, i'm a puppeteer.

they transformed... and it wasn't quick.

this is the price we pay to live.

the world does not tend to forgive.

look at all we've lost and all we've learned, every single cost is so much more than what we've earned.

think about the men we have left before there are none.

let's just cut our losses, you and i, and let's run.

i can hardly sleep now knowing everything we've done.

there's no length i wouldn't go if it was you i had to save. i can only hope you'd do the same.

what if she can't be killed? will you choose to leave?

no one will find their way between my nymphs and i, their loving queen.

it's a game of wits but you don't have to play.

wouldn't you like

i must say what a brilliant speech you gave.

you wanna beat her? you'll need the blessing of a certain god.

[silly little laugh]

wouldn't you like a taste of the power? wouldn't you like to use more than words?

deep in the night the fight lasts for hours.

you can be hurt or you can beat her.

wouldn't you like to have some of thе magic? wouldn't you like your outcome prefеrred?

deep in the night the fight can be tragic.

i'll help you conquer her.

she can turn you into an animal that'll end up on her plate. she can all but make you fall in love like you're on your hundredth date!

she can conjure up a monster that'll grind you to the bones.

she has all the ways to haunt ya when you take her on alone.

here in the root of this flower, there lies such a power to take her on.

don’t thank me friend, you very well may die. haha, good luck!

done for

i sent out some scouts to take a look around through here and they wound up at your door.

through the years we seldom get a warm welcome, so i must ask just to be sure... did you do something to them?

all i did was reveal their true forms.

i don't know who you are nor why you're here but let me make this one thing clear: i've got people to protect, nymphs i can't nеglect so i'm not taking chances, dear.

if you makе one wrong move, then you're done for.

anything i don't approve, then you're done for.

i could put a spell on you and you're done for.

boy, you better run or soon you will done for.

i don't mean to tip your scale but you will fail at placing any spells on me.

you better cower now and flee.

you must be a liar. mortals can't acquire moly without dire consequence.

then i must be a god like you cause i got this root from the ground with my bare hands.

you and i are now evenly matched. our fates are intertwined, they're attached.

i've got people to protect, friends i can't neglect so now there is no turning back.

you've made your one wrong move, now you're done for.

i will be the one to prove that you're done for.

not even a spell saves you, cause you're done for.

the last time we let strangers live, we faced a heavy loss.

you've given me no reason to bestow you with my trust.

everyone's true colours are revealed in acts of lust.

there are other ways

there are other ways of persuasion, there are other modes of control...

there are other means of deceit, there are other roads to the soul...

there are other actions of passion you have so much left to learn.

want to save your men from the fire? show me that you're willing to burn.

who's to say with the mistakes i've made that they will be the last mistakes i ever make?

there is so much power but there's puppet here.

this is the price we pay to love.

i'm just a man, forgive me.

back at home, my wife awaits for me.

she is my everything, my [name]... and she is all my power.

the god of tides is out to end my life.

so i beg you, [name], grant us mercy.

let us puppets leave.

there might be a way to evade him, there might be a way to get home though this other way’s very dangerous.

it might be your one final hope.

i can’t get you home, but I’ll get you to the underworld instead.

maybe showing one act of kindness leads to kinder souls down the road.

i remember actions of passion... i have been in love once before.

maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more.

maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer more.

#rp meme #rp prompts #ask meme #rp sentence meme #rp sentence prompts #rp sentence starters #prompts #meme #sentence starters

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dystopicjumpsuit · 4 months

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I know you’ve gotta be tired of seeing me in your inbox🫣, but I’m back again with a first kiss request from the B-side

may I please be so bold as to request:

"are you sure about this?" with THE Fenn Rau 🤩

SEV MY BELOVED! I will never, ever be tired of seeing you in my inbox! I apologize for how long this took me to turn around, but the muse strikes when the muse strikes, and today, the muse struck in the shower (where else?). And so, without further ado, I give you:

The Protector of Chopper Base

A/N: I hope you enjoy this offering for an extremely rare blorbo. Fenn fans are an endangered species, but we have each other’s backs. The (slightly fudged) prompt will be in bold blue 💙

Pairing: Fenn Rau x Reader (GN; medic)

Rating: T

Wordcount: 845

Warnings and tags: fluff; smooching; Wedge Antilles is a warning; AP-5 is an omen

Summary: The Protector of Concord Dawn helps you unwind after a hellish shift in the med bay.

Fenn Rau Thots | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

There weren’t many truly private spaces at Chopper Base, but just inside the perimeter, you’d managed to find a cozy little cargo crate that afforded at least a semblance of solitude—a quiet place where you could unwind after shifts in the base’s “med bay,” which was just an official way of saying, “a relatively clean place where you could perform first aid and triage.” Some days, you’d join Zeb in his hideout to decompress, but if work had been particularly grueling, you’d sneak off to your little corner to be alone.

Sometimes you’d sit and stare out at the wilderness beyond the perimeter fence. Other times, like today, you’d lie on your back on top of the crate, eyes closed as you soaked up the sun, the silence, and the solitude. Alas, privacy was an illusion, and your peace was soon shattered by a familiar voice.

“Doc! Come quick, it’s urgent!”

“Is it really urgent, or is it ‘Wedge urgent’?” you asked without moving or opening your eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Wedge asked, affronted.

“Is anyone dying?” you asked.

“No.”

“Does anyone have a broken bone, or a wound that is actively bleeding?” you pressed.

“... No.”

“Is it about inventory?” a second voice cut in—a voice that never failed to make you smile when you heard it.

“Uhh…” Wedge sounded sheepish.

“Then it can wait,” the voice replied.

“But AP-5—”

“The Doc deserves a break,” the voice interrupted firmly.

Wedge sighed in defeat, and you heard the sound of his retreating footsteps. After a moment, a shadow passed over your closed eyelids, blocking out the sun. You opened your eyes and squinted up, unable to suppress your smile when you saw Fenn Rau gazing down at you with an amused expression.

“Is he gone?” you whispered.

“For now,” he replied.

“Thanks to the Protector of Chopper Base,” you smiled.

You sat up to make room for him next to you on the crate, and he sat down, his beskar armor clanging against the durasteel.

Damn it, he smells good. I probably smell like bacta. And worse.

“Long day?” he asked.

“Hmph,” you replied, which he correctly interpreted to mean “hellish.”

“I assume you don’t want to talk about it?”

“You know me so well,” you replied. “Please tell me you brought spotchka.”

“I brought spotchka.”

He held a durasteel flask, and you sighed happily. “Gods, I could kiss you right now.”

He smirked. “Are you sure about that?”

Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his lips and back again. “Yeah, actually. I am.”

His eyes widened, and a warm blush swept over his face, washing his cheeks and ears in a shade of pink that clashed adorably with his red hair. You leaned in slightly, giving him plenty of space if he wasn’t interested, and when he didn’t retreat, you raised your hand to trace your fingertips along his jaw and draw him closer to you. He swallowed audibly, and then he leaned in.

The first brush of your lips against his was light, soft. He drew a breath sharply through his nose, and when you grazed the tip of your tongue against his lips in gentle exploration, you heard the durasteel flask clatter to the ground and roll away. His hands, now free, wrapped around the back of your head and pulled you more firmly against him as he kissed you deeply.

When your lips parted at last, he caressed your cheek with his knuckles. The distant, professional part of your brain noted that you were experiencing several intriguing symptoms: tachycardia, tachypnea, presyncope. The rest of your brain just knew that your heart was pounding, your breath was racing, you felt lightheaded, and you wanted to do it all over again. You tilted your head closer again, and—

“There you are,” AP-5’s imperious, annoying karking mechanical voice cut in. “I’ve been looking for you, medic. I have a list of several inventory discrepancies that require your immediate attention.”

You closed your eyes, drew a deep breath through your nose, and counted to five. It didn't work, so you continued on to ten. When you opened your eyes, Fenn still held his face very close to yours.

“Would you like me to shoot him for you?” he offered, his breath warm and soft against your lips.

“I beg your pardon?” AP-5 demanded.

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “I mean, it’s not like I’d be the one who had to patch him up. I repair organics, not droids. So... Sure. Go for it.”

“Now, wait a moment!” the droid objected.

“We could also just go somewhere else,” Fenn observed. “I’m fairly certain we could outrun him. I do have a jetpack, you know.”

“True,” you replied. “Besides, he’s found my hideout now.”

“Quite right,” Fenn said as he stood and extended a hand to help you up, then retrieved the fallen bottle of spotchka. “Your position has been compromised. But I have a fallback.”

“And I can think of a few compromising positions I’d like to explore,” you replied.

“Shall we?”

---

Ragu list:

@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino spicy-clones @wings-and-beskar @523rdrebel @merkitty49 @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella @cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @mandos-mind-trick @littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @clonemedickix @marierg @idontgetanysleep @moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine @multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam @banksys-rat @skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist @cw80831 @kimiheartblade @meredithroseg @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal @reader6898

#fenn rau #fenn rau x reader #star wars rebels #star wars #rebels fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #gn reader #dystopicjumpsuit writes #ask fic

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blood-teeth · 9 months

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TMITAWH is 2 years old????!!!!

i cant believe i missed it that sounds so ridiculous to me! in my defense, i was driving for two weeks straight

i don't have anything planned for celebration; i'm so sorry! but i do have some updates!

for those that missed it, tmitawh is now a novel and will no longer be told in an interactive fiction format. this has upset a lot of people. i've lost a lot of followers over this announcement. and i can understand this to some extent, but largely i have to continue to be unapologetic about my choices.

this story is one that has, in every meaning of the phrase, saved my life. writing in this little world has gotten me through some of the darkest times and carried me through to the next day. at some point, IF stopped being a media that was capable of telling the story i wanted to tell.

i'm disheartened by a lot of the anons i've received. some are hateful and unkind. others are upset that they no longer will have the opportunity to pursue Cain or Ezio, and a few mention that they're not interested in reading a lesbian story and will not be reading the book if it ever makes it to publication. i've disregarded the first, but the second cuts the deepest i think.

i have never, ever been shy on this app that i'm a lesbian. i feel as though i've talked endlessly about it. being a lesbian is a huge facet of my identity and being told that, in so many words, a story written for myself, with other queer people in mind, is not for them seems like such a stupid thing to say. like, i didnt write it for you. i wrote it for me. i wrote it for the lesbians who love so violently that they have to hide it away under their clothes, in between their teeth. i wrote it for the lesbians who have been told their love is disgusting, or wrong, or sexy and for a male's pleasure only. i wrote it for the lesbians who are told their love is okay as long as they never show it- as long as they only hold hands at most but never kiss in public. i wrote it for the lesbian who sits in pews and breathes over their hands and wonders if God loves them still.

i'm not sorry to not have written a story catered for you when the whole world is for you. leave me out of your self-absorbed, hateful little orbit.

please know, this blog does not tolerate hatred, bigotry, or harassment in any shape or form. and if you're going to fuck around with me, you sure as hell are going to find out with me.

on a more positive note!

i want to thank you all who have been overwhelmingly positive and supportive of my endeavors!! it means the absolute world to me!! i sometimes hold myself at night and think of all the kind words y'all have sent over these past two years and just sob. never in my life before this could i have imagined sharing my work with people who give a shit and care. it warms me in ways i cannot begin to describe. i love you and i hope you are well as always. my inbox/dms are open ANYTIME if you just want to chat, catch up, rant to me, or tell me about your pet. actually, please tell me about your pet.

Some quick publishing updates:

I'm 20k words out of 90k into draft 2. and i think this is going to be the last draft before i query (?????) i'm really very happy with the muscles and bones of the manuscript. now it's just some meticulous line editing i have to work through.

after this, i'm off to the query trenches. (im scared) if anybody has gone through this process before and has any tips, i'd love to hear them!

here's a little excerpt:

"She grabs hard enough to make sure of her presence, not enough to bruise. Some sick part of the Traveler’s brain says, Yes. Please. More. Press deeper. Press harder. Bruise me. Hurt me. She delights in the heat that blossoms from where the Reverie digs her fingers into skin. Eyes earnest, stubborn disposition to her jaw as the thick muscle there flickers in an implication of anger. “I will find you,” she’s shaping her tongue into a dagger at the Traveler’s throat. “I will find you again, and that is a promise.” The Traveler gasps, tilting her head higher. She blinks and— The Reverie’s mouth is on hers, hot and aching, and the Traveler blinks— Want flavors the Traveler’s tongue, the Reverie’s hands pressed tightly against her collarbone, teeth at her jaw. She blinks and— Is this Before or After?"

i also, stupidly, have officially started a twitter that i want to start working with. i know twitter is dead, but it remains to be very useful for publishing. if you'd like to follow me, im there on @ morganhollow25. i dont know how to use it. im scared to use it. but if you have a twitter maybe follow me there too! i absolutely plan to be on tumblr primarily. i love it here and have grown a tiny home in these webs.

i'll have more updates coming soon regarding FTMTB and other works. thank you all again <3

#long post #long update #update #tmitawh #tell me if there's a way home #this was a lot more lecture-y than i meant it to be #but i dont think i said anything unnecesary #writeblr

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jessybarnes · 1 year

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Limitless

Title: Limitless

Pairing: TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI!

Word Count: 721

Tags: Light smut, knife play, kissing, light dom Bucky, implied sex, explicit sexual content, explicit language, and I think that's it.

Written For: Kinktober 2022 (expired)

Square(s) Filled: Knife Play

Beta(s): None

A/N: I wrote this with a fever so please ignore how terrible this is. I feel absolutely awful today. Thank you for reading lovelies ❤️

"You're staring again, Y/N"

Sam nudges your shoulder and you blink a few times before looking out the window. Bucky's across the room, sparing with one of the Dora Milaje and you haven't been able to take your eyes off of him since they started.

"Are you gonna tell him?"

"Uhh, tell him what?"

Sam rolls his eyes, "I can't with you. Are you gonna tell him that you wanna jump his old man bones?"

You shush him, slapping his arm. "First of all, he doesn't have old man bones, and second, can you quiet down? He has super soldier hearing, remember?"

He sips his drink and nods in Bucky’s direction. "I'm just trying to help you out, Y/N. If you're expecting him to make the first move, you might be waiting until you're over one hundred."

Now it's your turn to roll your eyes, "I'll do it, okay? I'm just waiting for the right moment."

"Right moment for what?"

All the color drains from your face as you turn to look at Bucky. He's breathing heavy, looking down at you with a curious look, but it's the knife in his hand that makes you swallow thickly.

"Umm…well, I… I mean…wha- what?"

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose and decides he's just gonna rip off the bandaid and put you out of your misery, but Ayo beats him to it.

"Y/N has been watching you spar with me for the past thirty minutes. It's quite obvious she likes you."

Bucky raises an eyebrow, clearly finding it hard to believe that someone as beautiful as you could want him of all people.

"Is that true, Y/N?"

"I-I…yes?"

Sam shakes his head, "Come on, Ayo, I could use your help with something, and these two clearly need to talk."

The door closes behind them and suddenly it's just you and Bucky. He sits next to you and puts his knife on the table before turning to face you.

"I like you too, you know."

You reach out and take the leather handle in your hand and twirl the tip of the blade on your finger. The slight pressure of it provides just enough distraction from the way he's looking at you.

Bucky turns your face towards his and rubs your cheek with his thumb. His eyes dance from yours down to your lips as he slowly leans in.

"I'm going to kiss you now," he whispers.

And he does. He kisses you slow and tentative until you're kissing back fervently. You're breaths are heavy when you pull away and his eyes are dark with lust.

"Bucky…I-"

"...I know, doll. Me too." He reaches for his knife in your petite hand and begins to pull it away. "I'm gonna take this back now before-"

"But I like it," you cut him off and your voice is so timid that he wouldn't have heard you if he didn't have excellent hearing.

Bucky smirks and pushes your shoulder until you're laying back on the soft couch cushions. He still takes the knife, but instead of setting it down, he straddles your body and towers over you.

"You like it, hm?"

You can only nod as you look up at him with wide, innocent eyes.

"I've seen you watching me train, baby. Saw these pretty eyes keeping tabs on the way I move, but," he twirls the weapon in his hand and groans when your eyes sparkle with need, "I didn't know it was because you've got a thing for my knife."

You whimper as he trails the blunt tip of the blade along the delicate skin of your neck. Bucky hooks it under one of your bra straps and it snaps, making you gasp.

"Oh, god…Bucky…."

He cuts the other one away and then leans down to kiss you. "Mmm…you like that, baby?"

He cuts off your t-shirt next, and soon you're exposed skin is littered with goosebumps. Bucky moves the knife along your chest and down over your sensitive nipples bringing them to hard peaks.

Your chest is heaving, you're positive your panties are soaked through, and all you want is for Bucky to never stop.

"Please!"

"So polite, doll… Do you want more, Y/N?"

You whisper another please and he chuckles.

"I'm gonna fuckin' ruin you, princess."

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sealacrossthesea · 25 days

Text

ocs as horror tropes/metaphors

i was tagged by @gwynbleidd and it took me. a while. to get to it. sorry, but thanks for the tag!

i don't have ocs except ocs for a thing i'm trying to work on (every ant is a titan, i talk about it sometimes), and i don't actually have any visual references for said characters because i know nothing about editing images to make them look cool, and i don't like how i draw :') so i'll just write their names, zero context, and zero clue to their appearance :')

oh, here goes:

Morgan:

meat as horror

meat hooks and conveyor belts and cold metal. the warm eyes of a stupid animal, completely unaware of the watering mouths that await it. "cut here" lines drawn on the body, slabs of steak that bleed and bleed, unrelenting. are you hungry? would you kill to stay alive? you feel like prey, or maybe like predator. sinew is stuck between your teeth, and gore dribbles down your chin. don't chip your teeth on the bones. you feel like the top of the food chain, and don't see the eyes gleaming behind you.

Adam:

the horror of the mother

complete control over you, your complete reliance on her. you are a helpless child, and she makes every decision for you, asserting to you that she knows what's best. hysterical, emotional, even in her love for you, especially in her hatred for you. the fruit of her loins has rotted, and you cannot escape her scorn. distance means nothing if you're doomed to become her.

Joseph:

heaven as oblivion

there is absolutely nothing for you now. you are dead but not gone, you've passed on to the next realm and hit an infinitely extending wall. your fingers dissolve before your eyes, your eyes melt out of your head, your head does not exist. you are not present anywhere, and you cannot hear anything. you've dodged hell, but at what cost? this is all there is now.

Adelaide:

family as a cult

you will never need anyone else. outsiders will hurt you, aim to corrupt you and ruin you and leave you in pieces, but your family will always be there for you. everyone has the same eyes, the same smile. the same sickly yellow light cast over their skin. the same tastes, the same food that melts to gray sludge on your tongue. family recipe. hugs last too long, touches linger and sting like sunburn. don't stray too far. if you come back looking like a wolf rather than a sheep, the dogs will eat you.

Giovanni:

just catholic trauma

(tw for implications of self harm here) god is judgment. every action is weighted, every action is watched. tally marks on a scoreboard, on skin, your body on a golden scale, and you can't shed enough weight to stop it from tipping. worship isn't enough. sacrifice isn't enough. guilt lays across you in layers. blankets, sheets of snow, cling-wrap cutting off your circulation. you can't save yourself, but you can never stop trying. fire licks at your heels, a constant reminder of what is inevitably waiting for you.

Newton:

meat as horror

okay, that's it for the ants team, and these are surprisingly accurate! again, thanks a lot for the tag! idk who to tag in return, so i guess anyone who wants to do this is free to say they were tagged by me.

#rho.odt #every ant is a titan #oc: morgan #oc: adam #oc: joseph #oc: newt #oc: adela #oc: giovanni #i liked doing this. idk why i've been putting it off so long :')#i know mento ewness etc but. yeah.#thanks again!

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s0dium · 2 years

Note

Did you say puppy boy yuuta?? Oh my gosh, just imagine him in his rut. I mean, he already has an insatiable stamina and his breeding kink on normal days but it just worsens to tenfold on his rut.

He probably won't even care about you. Fucking you until you pass out and the only thing in his mind is to fuck you full of his cum and make you carry his babies.

Puppy boy

A/n: FUCK I LITERALLY- I think about this when im alone if you know what I mean ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I might have gotten a little carried away please more of these nasty thirsts y'all r killing me

Warnings: Hybrid!Yuuta, breeding kink, dry humping, knotting, no prep and big dick yuuta

Yutas eyes were dark, completely blown out with lust as he dragged his clothed crotch up and down your leg.

"Y-yuu? Everything ok?" This position was all too familiar, your puppy asking you to care for his insatiable needs. But something about it seems different, from the way he hotly pants on the skin of your neck to how his ears twitch and his canines seem bigger, sharper.

You let out a sweet moan that is sent straight to his hefty cock when he begins to suck and lick at your skin. "Please, m'wanna mate" he mumbles into the nape of your neck, sharp canines crazing over the thumping spot that is your heart. "M'wanna give you my pups, make you a momma and breed you again and again" You thickly gulp at his words. Your usually used to moments like these, where he relentlessly humps any part of your body, without a care if in public or not, until hes spoiling his pants. Buts its rare he ever mentions breeding which can only mean one thing; your puppy was in heat. And being the good owner you were, how could you deny your pet when he needed you the most?

"S'ok puppy, go ahead" Big mistake. Because the moment you give the ok, it becomes a never ending cycle. One where he pumps you full of cum after hours of fucking, gives you big glassy eyes and begs to go again only for the process to repeat and your left unable to move.

"Thank you thank you to much" He mumbles, peppering kisses along your neck while his hands get to work pulling down those cute short pajama pants. He almost tears your frilly white panties but restrains himself, opting to take them off as well. You squeal when you feel two fingers glide along your slit to collect your sticky juices, only to be put in his mouth; Yuutas eyes closing as he tastes your juices.

"Taste so so good" He groans, pulling out his flushed cock and using the saliva and juices to help wet him.

There is no warning when he completely bottoms out inside of you, walls throbbing as he seems to get bigger with every inch slipping into your quivering hole. He whines at how warm you are, its nothing like his fist or that stupid fleshlight you got him for when your away.

"S-so warm n'tight"he whines into your mouth and presses his own messy kisses into your squealing mouth. His pelvic bone rubs on your clit as he jackhammers into you, the base of his cock swelling and stretching your gummy walls wide.

"M'love you, love you so much, wanna make you a momma, give you my pups!" He's babbling now, lips hungrily sucking your nipples like milk was going to cum out. The sheer collision of his tip against your cervix as he slammed into you was making your brain go numb. Just when you dont think you can cum again, he rips another one out of you and god does it feel amazing. Its like your flying in euphoria as thousands of flesh arrows send pleasure across your body.

Yuutas soft floopy ears suddenly peak up to a point and his tail starts to wag violently. “m’ gonna cum- bunny m’gonna cum inside.” he cuts of with a squeal of his own, shooting thick white ropes of his cum into your swollen n wanting womb. He kept cumming inside of you, strings and strings of hot cum filling you up as he held you in his arms. It made your body shake, his load weighing at your stomach like it was forming a bulge with how much there was. “gonna look so pretty with my puppies” his tail twitches at his own words, mind going foggy at the thought of you round and swollen with his children.

#jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #yuuta smut #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu #jujutsu kaisen yuuta

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ameliora-j · 3 years

Text

needy // dm x reader

words: 1.4k

warnings: smut, daddy kink, masturbation (m&f), use of a vibrator, degradation, dumbification if you squint, bondage, nipple play, clit slapping, slapping kink, edging, mean dom draco, sub reader, finger sucking

a/n: all acts are consensual. safe word is in place.

you were bored out of your mind, laying in draco’s dorm as you waited for him to come back. he was out, doing his prefect duties or in the library studying, or doing some other thing you didn’t bother to pick up on finding out before he left, leaving you with nothing but a kiss to your forehead. you had been needy all day, and the platinum blonde was very aware of this fact.

you had been tugging at his robes since breakfast this morning, whining and begging him to take you, even if it be into a broom closet. he left you with nothing more than a kiss to your head and, “patience, bunny. be good for me and wait,” which did absolutely nothing to sate the ache in your cunt.

when the day was finally over and the two of you walked up to his dorm, you were practically thanking all the gods that were listening that you could finally… finally get off. however, your boyfriend had other plans. just as you were ready to jump his bones and pull him into a kiss that left both of you breathless, he turned and pressed a light kiss to your forehead before giving you some half-assed excuse of where he had to be. leaving you in his dorm… alone, and aching for his cock.

you tried to be good, truly, you did. but you were just so wet. you had already soaked through your panties and the ache was beginning to crawl itself up through your cunt and settle itself in your lower abdomen. you couldn’t take it any longer. you pulled off your soaked panties and reached into the drawer of draco’s bedside table, pulling out the purple toy that was angled just right to hit your gspot and had an attachment that vibrated against your clit as well.

you wasted no time, lifting up your skirt so it laid across your tummy, turning on the toy, and plunging it deep inside yourself. you moaned out loud as you finally felt the relief you’d been waiting all day for. “fuck,” you whimpered as the tip of it hit against your gspot just right.

you were so close. almost there. just a few more thrusts of the toy and you would be toppling over the edge and hurtling into seventh heaven. if you could just—suddenly your pleasure was gone. your orgasm was ripped from you and you felt a strong grip on your wrist, causing you to gasp and move to cover yourself up. when your eyes landed upon your dominant, he didn’t even need to utter a word for you to know that you were in deep shit. his eyes told you all you needed to know. “sir…” you bit your lip, gulping nervously.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” draco spoke, tone icy.

“i-i… sir, i was j-“ you began to stutter.

“just being a needy little slut?” he finished for you, causing you to gulp again.

“i-i didn’t… i wasn’t… i just,” he cut you off with nothing but a harsh glare.

“speak properly or shut the fuck up,” he growled, causing you to nod. “needed to be filled up so bad, huh? just couldn’t be a good girl and wait for me,” he tutted as he pushed your shoulder back and crawled over you. “i was just about to come back and tell you how much of a good girl you’ve been, waiting for me. was gonna reward you by licking your cunt untill you fell apart all over my tongue and then i was gonna fuck you stupid with my cock. but needy sluts don’t get daddy’s cock, do they princess?”

“no…” you whimpered, causing him to swat harshly at your clit and look down at you, expectantly. “no sir,” you quickly corrected.

“no they don’t. what do needy sluts get, hmm?” he raised a brow.

“they get punished daddy,” you murmured bashfully.

“speak up,” he demanded, slapping your clit once more.

“they get punished, daddy,” you repeated a second time, louder than the first.

“good. so you haven’t gone completely dumb,” he hummed before pulling out his wand. “arms up,” you followed his instructions, putting your left wrist in your right hand. he pointed his wand at your hands and cast the binding charm, rendering you immobile and completely at his will. he ripped open your shirt and tore off your bra before he began an assault on your nipples, squeezing and twisting them untill the buds hardened between his fingers.

“daddy,” you whimpered, causing him to slap at your tit harshly.

“don’t wanna fucking hear you,” he grunted. “y’gonna lay there. and y’gonna take what i give you, do you understand me?” he asked you.

“yes, daddy,” you nodded nervously. that’s all he needed as he turned the toy on high and plunged it back into your cunt. you shrieked at the overstimulation and thrashed about the bed. draco removed himself from you before ridding himself of his clothes. he sat upon his haunches at the end of the bed and took his cock in his hand, squeezing gently. “wanna touch you daddy,” you whined as you watched him.

“needy sluts don’t get to touch,” he responded as he continued to stroke his cock, ignoring your whimpers and pleas.

~~~

draco had made himself cum four times already as he watched you, helpless and at the mercy of the toy. the vibrator was still sat deep in your cunt, pressed right against your gspot as the attachment was pressed harshly against your clit. “cum,” you babbled incoherently, causing him to pull the toy away and steal your orgasm for the sixth time tonight, making you practically scream in frustration and he chuckled as he kissed your pout.

“what’s wrong, bunny?” he mocked as he stared down at you.

“i wanted to cum, daddy,” you whimpered. draco could tell you were losing your sense of self. he knew he needed to stop soon before you fell too deep, but he also knew you could take one more.

“oh bunny, want daddy to make you cum?” he cooed mockingly.

“please daddy, it hurts,” you blubbered as tears collected along your bottom lashes.

“where does it hurt, hmm? tell daddy,” through your hazy stupor, you couldn’t register that the man was mocking you.

“hurts in m’belly daddy. wanna cum, please. i’ll be good,” you sobbed out.

“one more for daddy, yeah?” he asked as he ran his cock up your slit. you shrieked as he plunged himself deep within your walls and set an unforgiving pace from the start. he gave you no time to adjust as he abused your gspot with the head of his cock.

“please,” you blabbered repeatedly. he set his tongue on your bottom lip and you sucked it between your lips, using it to sate you as his cock continued to abuse your cunt. he took your leg and threw it over his shoulder, allowing him to hit that much deeper. you let out a scream and nearly bit down on his thumb as he began to rub rough circles into your already swollen clit.

“gonna cum princess,” he grunted as his thrusts turned sloppy. “fuck,” he groaned loudly as he buried his cock deep inside you and painted your walls with rope after rope of his cum as his thumb continued it’s assault on your clit.

“daddy. daddy daddy daddy please please,” you begged as you arched into him.

“you wanna cum?” he teased with a smirk.

“yes. yes yes yes please. please almost there almost there,” you babbled. he smirked before pulling away and shaking his head as he tutted at you quietly.

“already told you. needy sluts don’t get to cum,” he told you as he pulled his cock out of your swollen, red cunt. you sobbed at the loss of contact as he released you from your binds.

the tears continued as draco lifted you from the bed and took you into the bathroom. he shushed you as he sat you on the toilet and made you go as he ran your bath. he put in your favorite bubbles and gently set you in, climbing in behind you. you sunk into his chest as he gently washed you of and whispered praises into your ear to bring you back to earth.

“dray?” you whispered softly as he finished dressing you in one of his shirts and a clean pair of panties. you were sat in between his legs as he brushed through your freshly shampooed and conditioned hair.

“yes bunny?” he whispered back as he laid down and pulled you into his chest, rubbing your back soothingly.

“‘m sorry i broke your rules,” you murmured bashfully.

“‘s okay bunny, know you couldn’t help it. do you understand why i had to punish you?” he checked as his fingers dragged up and down your spine. you nodded with a hum of affirmation. “good. now go to bed, bunny. if you’re a good girl, i’ll make you cum before breakfast tomorrow, okay?” he pressed his lips to the crown of your head.

“i love you,” you murmured as you closed your eyes.

“i love you too bunny,” he answered.

add yourself to my taglist :)

taglist: @mollysolo @i-love-scott-mccall

#harry potter smut #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy smut #smut #harry potter #draco malfoy #draco smut

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jungwonenthusiast · 3 years

Note

can i request 14 & 19 dom!Jake and female reader🏃🏻💨💨 thank you💞

A/N: i kinda got carried away with this lol forgive me

Warnings: oral and fingering (f recieving), unprotected sex, slight cum play, overstimulation

Word count: 2k

“I’m sorry baby,” Jake tries to grab your hand but you snatch it away. He pulls you into his arms and you pout.

“I thought you were gonna hang out with me today.” you say quietly.

“I am I am, I just got distracted.” he pets your hair, still hugging you. You haven’t hugged back yet.

Jake was supposed to come over and see you but he was out with the boys and forgot. It was so unlike him, and it made you pretty sad. You wondered if you were a burden to him.

“I can’t believe I got stood up by my own boyfriend.” you sigh and he looks at you, looking as sorry as ever. To be honest, you were exaggerating your sadness a bit for fun.

He kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry pumpkin. I’ll never do it again.”

“Do you promise?” you ask him and he nods confidently. “Okay fine.” you pull him in for a short kiss.

He smiles and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

He carries you to your room and plops you onto your bed. He falls down next to you and pulls you into his arms.

“I missed you,” he kisses your cheek. “You smell so good.”

You cackle. “Weirdo.”

He kisses your jaw and makes his way to your lips.

He tries to pull you into his lap but you roll away and turn your back towards him.

“Baby~” he pulls you against him. “Please don’t be mad, it makes me crazy.”

“You betrayed me.” you joke and he laughs lightly.

“C’mere, let me make it up to you.” he tugs you into his lap and pulls you in for a kiss.

Without having to think about it, your arms link around his neck and his hands find your hips.

He smiles into the kiss just like he always does and for some reason it sends tingles down your spine. You run your hand through his hair as he squeezes your ass.

“You’re easy to persuade,” he smirks and you roll your eyes.

“Maybe you’re just a sweet talker.” you kiss his jaw.

“Yeah I’d say so too,” he says smugly and you chuckle.

He pulls you in for a kiss and slips his tongue into your mouth. You can’t help but rock your hips against his. You can already feel his hard on in his jeans.

He kisses your cheek. “You’re so pretty.”

“You’re ruining the mood.” you joke.

“I can’t be romantic now?”

You roll your eyes and push your lips against his.

He holds your waist and gently lays you down onto the bed.

He grinds his hips into yours as he kisses your neck. You whimper softly, already needing him.

He smirks, loving how he affects you.

His fingers creep up your shirt, touching your waist like your skin is made of flower petals.

He was always so gentle with you, even if he was calling you a needy slut at the same time.

He pushes your shirt up and begins to pepper kisses all over your stomach he reaches around your back and unclasps your bra.

“You’re the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever seen.” he kisses your jaw while massaging your chest.

“As if.” you roll your eyes a bit.

He stops. “What, you think I’m lying?”

“Definitely.” you chuckle.

“Fine, let me prove that I’m telling the truth.” he kisses you softly while trailing his fingers into your shorts.

You writhe under him, impatiently waiting for his touch. He circles your clit over your underwear and you whimper.

“One touch and you’re already making pretty noises.” he smirks.

“What if I was faking it?” you definitely weren’t but you felt like playing with him today.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Where’d all this attitude come from?”

You’re about to shrug but you’re cut off by him tugging your shorts and underwear off. Your knees knock together.

“Feeling shy?” he kisses your cheek. “You were so big and bad just a second ago.”

I’ll never win, you think to yourself.

He rubs your thighs up and down and kisses your knee. “Be good and spread your legs.”

You feel yourself blush. How does he always say the right thing?

You comply and he settles between your thighs. “That’s my girl.”

He kisses your soft skin and you quiver beneath him.

“Please?” you ask, already feeling desperate.

“Usually I would give it to you right away,” he squeezes your ass. “But you’ve been a bit of a brat today don’t you agree?”

You roll your eyes. “I hate you.”

He scoffs. “Really?”

“Mhm.” you huff.

He strokes you with his thumb. “I don’t think so princess.”

You cross your arms.

“I know how much of a slut you are for me,” he caresses your face. “Just the other day I had you screaming my name.”

Your knees knock together out of shyness and he tsks you. “Don’t start acting up again, you’ll regret it.”

He collects your slick on fingers before slowly pushing two into you. You whine a little and grab at his forearm.

“See?” he says and kisses your jaw. “That feels good doesn’t it.”

You nod pathetically, already submitting to him. He must’ve cast a spell on you or something because you couldn’t help but follow his every order.

He plays with your clit with his thumb while rhythmically pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“You’re so pretty,” he kisses you right below your ear. “I love seeing you like this.”

Soon your legs begin to tremble as he continues to hit your spot just right.

“Fuck,” you moan shakily, holding onto his arm for dear life. “Please don’t stop.”

He lowers his head and gently kisses your clit. Your legs almost snap around his head but he pushes them open with his free hand.

It’s hard not to try to scooch away from him and the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you, but he keeps you locked down under him.

You watch his tongue circle over your clit and his fingers disappear inside of you. Just the sight nearly sends you over the edge.

Right when your trembling becomes more urgent he stops and pulls away. It takes a lot to not slap him in the face.

You whine and fall onto your back.

“What?” he asks teasingly.

“You’re so mean to me.” you pout.

He chuckles and kisses you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You know I love you doll.”

“Can you fuck me already?” you beg and he smirks.

He tugs his hoodie over his head and unzips his jeans. The dim lighting in your bedroom highlights every ripple of muscle in his arms and chest as he climbs over you to kiss your neck.

He rubs his tip over your clit before slowly pushing into you.

You wince from the slight stretch.

He lets you adjust for a moment. “Ready?”

You nod eagerly and hold onto his back as he steadily thrusts into you. Whines leave your lips as he hits your gspot every time.

“So wet,” he says lowly, nipping at your neck to leave a light hickey. “Did I get you like this?”

“Yeah,” you say softly. “You’re so good.”

“Just a bit ago you were saying that you hated me.” he teases. “Are you that weak for this cock?”

You nod pathetically and his hand squeezes around your throat. “Use your words sweetheart.”

“I am.” your interrupted by a moan dripping out of your throat. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

He reaches over to your nightstand and pulls your vibrator out of the top drawer.

Your eyes widen and your heart beat picks up. “How’d you know about that?”

He smiles. “You’re not as sneaky as you think you are.”

You cover your hands with your face, trying to hide the embarrassment.

He chuckles and kisses your cheek. “Don’t be shy darling, just relax.”

He switches the little wand onto low and holds it against your clit while thrusting into you. Your eyes nearly roll back and he groans from the vibration.

You scratch at his back and he chuckles. “Does it feel that good?”

You nod and kiss him passionately.

“Look at my sweet girl taking this cock so well,” he pounds his hips into yours. “Tell me how much you love it.”

“So much,” you whine. “Please don’t stop, it feels so good.”

Your eyes are wide and desperate compared to his dark and determined ones.

“God you’re beautiful,” he kisses your forehead, your heart warms from the gesture.

He ticks the vibrator higher and a high pitched moan escapes your lips.

He smiles, watching you writhe and whimper in pleasure.

Your legs begin to shut and he pushes them open again, wanting to see all of you.

Your fingers slide into his soft hair and you tug a bit. “I can’t hold it anymore.” you stutter.

“Cum for me then,” he nips at your collar bone. “Cum on this cock.”

You cry out as your orgasm flows through your body. Literally every time it’s with him it’s like you're floating in heaven. You’d give anything to be with him like this forever.

“That’s it,” he whispers. “Good girl.”

His movements slow as he moans into your neck, releasing into you.

He stays inside of you, rubbing your sides and caressing your hair as you come down from your high. He kisses your cheek before slowly pulling out of you and watching his cum drip out of your pussy.

He gently rubs your cunt. You’re so wet and his cum just made you more lubricated. Your legs begin to shake from the over stimulation and he holds you taught.

“F-fuck wait,” you grab at his arm, still trying to adjust to the sudden pleasure.

“Do you think you can go one more time for me princess?” he asks sweetly.

You hesitate for a moment and then you imagine how good it would feel and you nod.

He traces soft circles onto your clit while whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

“You’re doing so good,” he kisses your forehead.

Your whimpers get more intense and his fingers speed up.

“Oh my god,” you squeak, still holding onto him.

“Look at me sweetheart.” he says and you look into his intoxicating brown eyes. He must be some magical creature the way he could so easily persuade you. “You’re such a good slut, doing everything as I say.”

He looks down. “And look how pretty this cunt is.”

You shy away but he grabs your jaw. “Watch what I’m doing to you.”

You down to see his fingers working your clit just how you like it and his other hand coming in to slowly finger you. His fingers slide in and out of you with no problem from his cum and how wet you were.

“Don’t stop.” you whisper shakily. “Please make me cum.”

He smirks and begins to pump and curl his fingers into you at the perfect pace and pressure.

“Come on,” he encourages you as your breathing becomes more ragged. “I know you can do it.”

Your back arches and your legs begin to shake like a leaf as your second orgasm rips through you. He watches you in awe as you whine and quiver under him. His fingers slow down as he comes up to kiss you. “Such a good girl.”

You hold onto him as your heart rate slowly goes back to normal.

“You’re crazy.” you breathe out and he smiles.

“Crazy for you.” he jokes and you frown at him.

He chuckles. “Let’s get up and take a shower, that’s if you can even walk there.”

You roll your eyes, but he was probably right.

#enhypen smut #Jake sim smut #Kpop smut

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excavatinglizard · 3 years

Text

I wasn't sure if I'd work up the nerve to post this (blame my brain) but honestly, Day 6: Fake Relationship is just the best excuse out there. How could I not?

A cover design for @fireinmywoods' fic Palimpsest. Please please go read it.

Some of my thoughts under the cut, with spoilers for the fic itself. Don't open if you haven't read it!

Oh my god I’m so sorry but this is such a long rant about a pretty simple picture. I’m just bored and I love getting to explain my thought process over the hours it takes to draw and I usually try to stop myself. Anyway, yeah, I promise it’s not as deep as i make it all sound here.

Recently I went: You know what? If I'm going to have Palimpsest on my kindle it damn well needs a cover. I went through a couple concept doodles before settling on this one.

Format: Ok, i haven’t read Palimpsest in a while but I tried to put as much in as I could. The concept of Jim and Bones facing opposite directions is meant to be a bit of a reference to 'read one way and then another'. The original concept doodle actually had them on either side of a spiral maze, but damn it I refuse to draw that much grain. As it is this is definitely a bit of a 'fuck it, squares' moment.

The choice to have Bones facing the camera (viewer? audience? what do I say in this case???) again is literally just because he's the narrator. We’re seeing what he wants to show us from his own point of view. Jim’s face is obscured; we don’t know what he’s really thinking or feeling, only what Bones sees of it.

I’ve already said I refuse to draw too much grain (even though I seem to keep doing it. ITS JUST SO PRETTY), but I KNEW I needed them out in a field. Someone in the discord once mentioned the paragraph:

He tips his head back against the wall and looks out at the corn bordering the schoolyard, vividly green against the backdrop of blue sky, golden tassels swaying lazily in the breeze. Terraforming is a hell of a thing. This place was probably an uninhabitable rock a couple centuries ago, and now it could easily pass for Illinois or Iowa. He wonders how Jim feels about that. All the work the man’s put into leaving his childhood behind, years of striking out deeper and deeper still into the great unknown, only to end up in another damn cornfield.

Now, I don’t trust a single one of you to not open this before reading, so I’m not going to expound on why this line stuck so firmly in my mind, but just trust that it did and I wanted to include it in the cover. I also pulled some of the imagery I used in the SIEL cover and had them both being a little bit consumed by the grass, sinking in around the ankles.

Color scheme: I don’t know why, but Palimpsest has always given me very warm-colored energy, in the same way that SIEL was always greys and greens. Gold corn, red sunsets, blond hair and endless skies. I also like drawing in warm colors, and it contrasted the SIEL cover nicely. I admit I think of the stories as two parts of a set, and I do so like when series have covers that work together.

Extra details: Take a look at Bones. What have we got?

A med kit. A tricorder. A wedding ring. His colors stand out against the corn and set him apart. I may have tried hard not to spoil anything, but I’m very much not above putting plot points in the fine details. Fight me.

You could probably argue that the black swirl means something, but really I just love the contrast and I think it looks cool. And it makes the text stand out, which i was having trouble with. And fills space. Yep.

Anyway, that’s it, thanks for reading this far if you did! I had a lot of fun with this piece :)

(And I’m so sorry Em if this is coming off as obsessive, I have no excuse other than your writing makes me lose my shit (in a good way). It does not leave my brain)

#mckirk #mckirk fanart #excavatinglizardsart #trektober 2021 #long rambling post #Leonard mccoy #Jim kirk #fireinmywoods #palimpsest #cover illustration

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bucks-metal-arm19 · 3 years

Text

Nightmares and Love-Making

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Daddy kink, talk of nightmares, cursing, voyeurism, dirty talk, face sitting, squirting, slight praise kink, slight degradation, unprotected sex, let me know if I missed anything!

18+ only!

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Welcome to my first Bucky Barnes one-shot! This stems from the fact that I couldn't find the smut I wanted so I just wrote it myself. I hope you like it! As always, it isn't looked over so all mistakes are my own :)

You caught him at a bad time- in the middle of what seemed to be a horrific nightmare as he slept on his makeshift bed on the floor. You knew he couldn't sleep in his normal bed in his normal bedroom, and you knew that the king-sized mattress was still adorned with the solid black fabric set you had gotten for him as his first official birthday present. He told you, one night as the two of you escaped to the roof of Stark tower, that the bed made him feel like he was getting swallowed alive. He was used to sleeping on a solid floor, with the thinnest blanket one could find and so that's what he did at his own home. home- he was still getting used to even having a home.

“Buck? Bucky, wake up! It’s a dream, just a dream! JAMES, WAKE UP!” You hollered, having dropped your stuff at the door and running to collapse on your knees next to the man as you urged him to wake up.

“Wh-what? J-just a dream?” He had finally quit shaking, and became coherent enough to realize that he was no longer at the HYDRA base, and was, in fact, in his own apartment with you holding him close to your chest.

“Yes, just a dream. I promise, you’re okay.” His fingers were clutching the arm you had draped across his midsection and you knew that his vibranium fingers would be leaving imprints on your skin for you to wear for the coming week.

“I thought...I thought...they had taken you. Hurt you. And I couldn't stop them. Could hear you screaming for me and I was powerless to fight all of them off. I couldn't...I couldn't save you.” He was sobbing, moans of a broken man being screamed into your skin as he clutched you like a lifeline. Your heart broke as you held him, quietly cooing and stroking his hair as you waited for him to come back to you.

It didn't happen though; instead, his body steeled in a form of mental resolve and suddenly you were under him. Your back was laid flat against the cold wood of the floor and your hands were pinned above your head. You didn't even have time to gasp audibly as he nudged your thighs apart and settled between them so that they had to wrap around his waist. You wanted to fear him, could feel your mind racing to find ways to get out from his grasp, but you were curious to see what would happen with this new side of Bucky. Almost feral with the way that he was panting, eyes darker than coal as he stared you down like you were his prey.

“You will not be taken from me, you are mine. Do you hear me? No one will ever take you from me.” Bucky’s voice had dropped ten octaves between words, and you would be lying if you said that it did not make your heart skip a beat in anticipation.

“I’m yours, Buck. Forever.” You promised, licking your lips that had suddenly become dry.

“Say it again.” He growled, deep in his chest, as he leaned down to nuzzle against your collarbone and breathe in your scent.

Your head fell back in submission, allowing him to press feather-light kisses and bruising bites against your throat as you murmured, “I’m yours, Bucky Barnes. Always.”

“Yes, you are, sweetheart.” He had you flipped to your stomach in a second, with your arms still above your head.

“What are you gonna do to me, Buck?” You whispered, but you knew that he could hear you.

“I’m going to ruin you, princess. Gonna absolutely fuckin’ ravish you until the only words you know are ‘please’ and ‘daddy.’ Gonna make you cum on my cock until you're crying, oversensitive, and begging me to stop. But you’re a good girl, my good girl, and you’ll take all of it until I fill you full of my cum. Then I’m going to run you a warm bath in my tub and I’m going to take care of you. Nurse your aches and lotion your bruises and then cradle you in my arms as we both drift to sleep. Does that sound good to you?” You can hear the cheekiness in his tone, but it’s laced with authority and you knew better than to deny him. Besides, everything he just said sounded wonderful and so you nodded your agreement.

“Words, princess. Use them.” He ordered, the grip on your wrists tightening in warning.

“Yes, Daddy.” You obliged, and the dark chuckle that erupted from his throat held a sinful promise.

“Wonderful.” That old-time drawl curled around the single word and suddenly you were resting on your elbows with your ass in the air.

Your stomach clenched and you could feel your pussy pulsate as arousal began to collect in your panties. Buck was still draped over your back, and he was rubbing his growing erection over the fabric of his cotton sweats while he contemplated what he wanted to do to you first. It was only a moment, but the single beat of a second was all he needed before he had your jeans around your ankles and had settled on his back between your spread thighs.

“What are yo-” you began to question, but the words were cut off as each of his ten fingers wrapped around hips and he yanked you down so that his mouth and nose were buried within your cloth-covered cunt.

You heard him take a deep inhale through his nose and he let out the filthiest, bone-melting groan that you had ever heard him utter. Your nipples pebbled instantly beneath your lace bra and your eyes fluttered closed as you heard him chuckle once more.

“God, you smell fuckin’ delicious, kitten. All wet and warm, just for me.” His nose nudged against your swollen clit as he licked a broad stripe up over your slit once and then again before using his teeth to yank the sodden fabric to the side so he could taste you properly.

A shudder wracked through your body from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes as he continued his licks, collecting all of your wetness on his tongue and fucking his tongue into your leaking hole as his nose connected to rub up against your sensitive clit.

“Oh fuck, Bucky. Christ.” You whined, rocking your hips against his face without meaning to but the way he was gripping your hips and tugging you closer told you that he didn't mind the possibility of suffocation.

“Can't wait to be buried inside this tight, sweet cunt.” Buck snarled, using the hold he had on you to flip you onto your back. He thought ahead- as always- and made sure that your head would be safe as it fell against his pile of pillows on the floor.

“Then bury yourself, Daddy. Fuck me.” You husked out, pupils blown wide in lust and adoration as you continued to fuck yourself onto his tongue.

“Not yet, doll. Want you to cum on my face first. Damn near suffocate between these gorgeous thighs.” He ordered, eyes blazing as he gazed at you from between your legs.

“Okay, Daddy.” You nodded, fingers clutching and clawing at your still-covered tits while you chased the high building inside your body.

White-hot heat began radiating from your fingers first, and then your limbs, and then from every inch of your body as you threw yourself over the edge of your orgasm and came undone as you rode Buck’s face like it was the best thing you had ever experienced. And it was- each orgasm he gave you always outdid the last.

“You’re so beautiful when you come, kitten. But you’re not done yet.” Buck finally managed to say as he untangled himself from your jeans and clenching thighs so he was standing before you in all of his glory.

“Are you gonna fuck me now, Daddy? Gonna use your cock and fill me up so I can help you forget all your worries?” You grinned up at him, still panting as you came down from your first orgasm of the night.

“Yes, princess. I am.” His tone held no malice, and his eyes were watching you with lustful enjoyment as he mentally cataloged the image of you like this to his brain.

“Then fuck me, already.” You taunted, leaning up just enough to yank your shirt over your head and then followed it with your bralette so you were finally bare beneath him.

“You don't make the orders, you take them. Do NOT forget that.” The mirth that had overtaken him left suddenly and he was back on you in a second, sweats gone as he pinned you to the floor with no exertion given on his part.

“Yes, Daddy.” You nodded, grinning as if you had won the lottery as your legs wrapped around Bucky’s waist once more.

“Now you’re gonna take my cock, kitten. It’s what you wanted, right?” He was back to nosing against your neck, as if the past ten minutes had not just occurred.

“If you think you can do it.” You taunted once more, ankles digging into the skin right above the base of his spine so you could rut against him like a dog in heat, absolutely no shame in your body as you used him for the friction you needed to get off.

“Is that how you want to play it? Fine.” He shrugged, as if you had just spoken about the weather, but the single motion he used had you back on your hands and knees in an instant.

“I don't think I can do it.” Buck began to speak as he kicked your legs apart once more, metal hand pressing down on the small of your back so the arch you held deepened and you were presented to him like an offering.

“I know I can.” And he slid inside you to the hilt, a single thrust that glided through your folds like butter and all thanks to the spit and arousal he created as he had eaten you out like his last meal.

Your mind blanked in an instant and a groan ripped out of your throat that sounded foreign to your own ears but sounded like the best kind of music to Bucky. You collapsed to your elbows, head falling to rest against the single blanket that Buck slept with when you weren't here.

“Ah, ah- no, you don't.” Bucky tutted between his teeth, flesh hand reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and wrap it around his fingers before pulling back so you were back onto your hands and could watch him through the mirror that sat adjacent from you.

“Look at you, kitten. Covered in hickies and bruises and panting like a whore in heat. And yet, you’re taking my cock so well. So fuckin’ tight and WARM, just like the first time we had sex. Your pretty pussy, stretching around my thick cock as I fuck you into oblivion. Absolutely ravishing.” Bucky always got mouthy when he was lost in your shared passion, and it did things to you that you couldn't explain.

“Keep your eyes on me while I make you fall apart.” He ordered, using the grip he had on your hip and the hold he had of your hair to fuck you like his life depended on it.

“Yes, Sarge.” You grinned wickedly as you saw his lips turn up into a leer, knowing full-well what that name did to him.

“Call me that again.” Bucky growled, letting go over your hair so he could lean forward over your frame to get a hand between your thighs to rub against your still swollen, sensitive clit.

“Make me cum, Sergeant Barnes. Please.” You tacked on the last word for good measure, already feeling the familiar tendrils of heat curl around your lips and rush through your veins as he pounded into you with wild abandon.

The clack clack clacking that his dog tags made against his chest after every move simply spurred him on, as if he was racing them for every thrust he made into your pussy, claiming it as his own. As if you ever even thought to let another man near it. He’d kill them before they even thought that they had a chance with you, and you both knew it. More often than not, he forgets that he’s even wearing them, but he knew that they were a kink of yours and he thanked every god he could think of that he wears them when he’s got you begging underneath him. Begging to cum, begging for harder, begging for faster, begging for Daddy to make her forget her own name while he buries himself inside her. Begging to be used and degraded and taunted and shown off like a prize that only he gets to win. Every moment of every minute of every day, from the moment they met until the end of time. And he loved every single damn second of it.

He was grunting, groaning, panting, cursing every word under the Sun as he rubbed tight circles into your wet clit while he sheathed himself inside you over and over and ov-, “FUCK!”

You came without warning, the damn bursting inside your pussy as you fell to your elbows once more while absolutely drenching his cock as you squirted for the first time. Shudders were wracking your body as you cursed and moaned and whined out Bucky’s name, vision turning black as you lost all sense of time during your orgasm. Your cunt turned into a vice on Bucky’s cock and it made him see God as he gave you one, two, three strokes before burying himself deep inside you and cumming in thick ropes across your hot, tight walls.

He fell on top of you, losing all muscle usage as pleasure roared through his body like he had never experienced before. He had enough sense to cushion you from the force of his body, but that was all he could offer as he rode out the waves of the most intense orgasm of his life. You managed to come to your senses first, and gently pulled away from Bucky so he could begin to come to his own bearings.

“That was...that was...wow.” You mumbled, vision still blurry as you threatened to pass out from too much mental and physical stimulus all at once.

“Well, it’s not begging but it is a nice Segway. Ready for that bath?” Bucky was able to stitch together a coherent sentence faster than you thought he would and you couldn't help but laugh in both amusement and amazement that this wonderful man was all yours. Even if he did fuck you senseless. Literally.

“I love you, Bucky Barnes. Always.”

#bucky x you #bucky fic #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x you #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic #james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #winter soldier #winter solider smut #dom bucky #marvel smut #bucky barnes one shot

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ptergwen · 3 years

Text

through the lens

w/c: 2.3k

warnings: swearing and mentions of blood (all fluff tho!)

summary: yours and peter’s date night doesn’t go as planned, thanks to his “little” accident and mj’s photography project

a/n: it’s been a minute but i’m back! for now lol i promise i’ll be way more active when exam season is over <3 this was based off the lovely pic above taken by the even lovelier zendaya and i hope you enjoy these… let’s call it random workings of my mind

“hang on, can you come closer?” mj instructs you, you promptly stepping towards her. “is this good?” “great,” she affirms and squints behind the camera. “smile really big on the count of three, okay? one, two, three!” doing as she says, you give mj your cheesiest grin with your eyes squeezed shut and all. she snickers while snapping the moment on her polaroid.

mj asked you to be her subject for a photography project. you’re happy to do it, although it’s super last minute. like, barging-into-your-room-and-begging-you-for-help last minute. she was supposed to turn this in days ago. lucky for mj, her teacher was feeling generous and gave her an extension.

you have to work fast because of mj’s deadline and your plans with peter. he’s coming over for a movie marathon and cuddles right about now. well, he’s actually running a tad bit late. that’s typical peter for you.

“just a couple more, and then you’re free,” mj informs you while shaking out the polaroid. “this is honestly pretty fun, you know.” you glance at the photo she’s holding with an eyebrow quirked in surprise. she captures you well. “what made you choose me?” “no one else was free on a saturday,” she snorts and tosses the picture in a pile with the rest.

your mouth falls agape. “i’m not free! peter’s gonna be here in…” you check the time on your phone, much to your dismay. “he’s a few minutes late, but still. i have things to do, too.” a smirk sets on mj’s face as she gets ready for the next photograph. “relax, y/n/n. i was kidding. i’m sure spider-dweeb will be here sooner than you know it.” sighing lightheartedly, you take a seat on your bed.

“don’t call him that,” you shake your head. mj throws her own head back to the ceiling. “ugh, but that was a good one,” she insists, you only humming. “it’s better than penis parker, at least.” “nah, i like the alliteration,” you laugh out and earn a giggle from mj. “you’re lucky parker doesn’t have super hearing, or does he?” winking, you hit a pose for mj. you’re looking at her over your shoulder with smolder eyes.

“ask him yourself, after you get this shot.”

the two of you continue messing around with her polaroid until the film is almost gone, and peter has yet to arrive. you’re starting to worry. you aren’t sure where he could be.

he doesn’t patrol on weekends unless it’s an emergency, and he would’ve told you if there was one already. he’s never this late without sending a text, either. it’s almost an hour past when date night should’ve started. on the other occasions peter has gone off the grid, they didn’t end well.

“i’m freaking out, em. do you think he’s in some kind of trouble?” you ask mj, pacing around your bedroom. she offers a sympathetic shrug. “maybe he just ate some bad yogurt. remember last time?” being the dummy he is, peter once scarfed down an entire tub of vanilla yogurt before he realized it was expired. no one heard from him for days. he didn’t show up to school or answer any calls.

may ended up inviting you over and explaining he’d gotten a stomach bug, which you then tended to him for the rest of. the story was so amusing, and so peter.

“may doesn’t buy him dairy anymore. why do you think he always raids your freezer?” you bring your fingers up to rub your temples. “the kid can empty ice cream cartons in one bite,” she agrees, silently cringing. her curiosity piques at the fact. “is that also a power?” “who cares?” you nearly shout, your fingers curling into fists. “what i wanna know is if peter is fucking okay.”

on cue, there’s a knock at your apartment door. you and mj exchange looks of urgency, both rushing out of your room to answer.

mj follows you through the hall and stands by your side while you fumble with the lock. when your door pulls open, ned has his hand raised to knock again. “ned? what are you doing here?” you don’t give him the chance to speak. “have you heard from peter? he was supposed to be here a while ago, but he never showed.” rather than answering in words, ned takes a step aside.

the sight you’re met with makes you gasp. peter peeks out from behind him, cuts and bruises littering his flushed face. he gives you a lopsided smile.

“you have your answer,” mj murmurs to you and eyes ned curiously. he lets out a nervous chuckle. “here he is.” you push past ned and practically jump into peter’s arms, your hug bone-crushing. “peter, oh my god! are you okay?” wincing, peter hugs you back by your waist. his chin rests carefully on your head.

“hey… i’m alright, baby. still pretty sore, though,” he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. you take the hint to loosen your grip on him. “i was worried something bad might’ve happened to you. i… i guess i was right.” your tone softens, you threading a hand in his curls. they’re completely disheveled from whatever went down with him.

ned heads inside to catch up with mj, the two of them letting you have a moment alone.

“someone’s got a spidey sense of their own, huh?” peter tries to lighten the mood by joking. it doesn’t work, a frown still evident on your face as you try to untangle his once soft locks. “baby, everything’s fine. i just… had a little accident is all. no big deal,” he reassures you and moves in to peck your lips. you’re so shocked that you dodge the kiss.

“little? your whole face is black and blue, pete!” you tug on the white collar of his button up, peter letting out a shaky breath. your other hand comes to rest on his cheek, touch gentle. “how’d you get like this?” he licks across his lips shyly and sets his hands on your hips. “see, on the way over there were these bad guys who-“

“no there weren’t,” ned cuts in, scoffing at the beginning of his friend’s story. peter shoots him a warning look over your head. “yes there were, ned. you weren’t even there!” he catches mj glaring at him before he continues. “don’t listen to him. anyway, i had to fight them because…” when he trails off, you stroke your thumb across his cheek, avoiding any wounds in the way. raising both eyebrows, mj speaks up.

“because why? go on, parker. i’m intrigued,” she encourages him. everyone can tell peter is lying except you. the question really is, what’s he lying about? he gulps down his spit, pulling your body against his for comfort. “take your time, peter. we can wait,” you say only for him to hear. his love filled eyes meet yours, and he nods. ned huffs at the dramatics unfolding before him.

“dude, you’re making this way worse than it actually is. just tell her!” he demands, mj cocking her head to the side. peter’s gaze flits between the two of them. “tell me what?” you wonder softly and tilt his chin, willing him to look at you again. “i… i…” peter’s shoulders slump, his voice lowering in defeat. “there weren’t any bad guys.”

“of course there weren’t,” ned confirms. “no shit,” mj adds. exhaling, you wait for your boyfriend to further elaborate. “what really happened, then? be honest, pete.” peter lets go of you so he can come into your apartment properly, you shutting the door behind him. he scratches the back of his neck as he fills you in. “ok. um, me and ned were hanging out.”

ned is attempting to stifle a laugh for some reason, which mj elbows him for. you take one of peter’s hands. “yeah?” “we were at my place, and… you know those really slippery steps on the sixth floor?” peter pauses for someone to answer, playing with your fingers. “the ones flash almost wiped out on once?” mj questions in amusement. he lets a quiet chuckle out. “good times. yeah, those.”

his gaze averts to the ground, you listening on. “so, i was walking ned out on my way over. we were talking about spidey stuff-“ “as per usual,” mj mumbles to herself. ned raises his hands in defense. “—and i told ned i could always stick my landings. he didn’t believe me.” you playfully roll your eyes, seeing where this is going. “so… i, uh, decided to show him,” peter finishes off.

“i did a, um, backflip. tripped and fell down the flight of stairs,” he finally admits to you, putting his other hand on top of your intertwined ones. “clearly, i was wrong.” his bloody face is now red from humiliation. “you didn’t trip, dude. you freaking summersaulted!” ned corrects him and bursts into laughter he’s been holding back. “idiots, both of you,” mj simply remarks.

“that’s it? why didn’t you just say that?” you almost laugh yourself. groaning, peter rests his forehead against yours. “because it’s embarrassing! i wanted you to think i’m a tough guy or whatever.” placing both hands on his cheeks this time, you nuzzle your nose against his. “you don’t have to be a tough guy to impress me, babes. you’re kind, smart, funny. makes up for you being such a klutz.”

peter cracks a grin, easily capturing your lips in the kiss he didn’t get to before. it doesn’t last long because mj gags and ned whistles at you. you’re both giggling when you pull apart, peter kissing the tip of your nose for good measure.

“you really mean that?” he checks, tucking back a strand of hair from your face. “of course. i have a thing for himbos,” you tease and poke at his bare chest. his eyes widen. “how about i get you some ice and you find our first movie?” you’re already off to the kitchen, beaming at peter. “date night’s still on?” he happily plops down on your couch, mj showing ned her pictures from earlier.

“as soon as those two get out of here,” you call loudly enough so ned and mj hear you. “yeah, yeah. we’re leaving,” mj deadpans, shoving the photos back into her portfolio. peter glances over at it curiously. “what’s that for?” “photography project,” she says and gets an idea. “i have some film left. y/n took up most of it… you losers want the rest?”

while mj coerces her way to a higher grade, you put some popcorn in the microwave for your movie marathon.

“well, i could use a new lockscreen. i’m in!” ned quickly concedes. him and mj both give peter hopeful looks. “i’m not!” he protests, squishing one of your pillows against his chest. “with my face looking like… this? forget about it.” mj walks over to him and places her portfolio on the coffee table. “what? those gashes are gnarly… in a good way, i mean,” she promises.

“painful, too,” peter murmurs. “y/n, hurry up with that ice!” mj demands, grabbing the polaroid camera from its string around her neck. you wave her off. “what i’m saying is, they’ll look sick in my portfolio.” mj forces a smile, ned looking at her weirdly. “uh, what’s the theme of your project again?” “freestyle, baby,” mj casually replies.

peter comes up with a condition that could persuade him. “if you say please, i might consider it,” he concludes, mj perking up. “please be in my project. pretty please?” she instantly requests, ned pursing his lips from behind her. peter rubs his chin. “y/n, what do you think? should i?” you pipe in from the kitchen. “yeah, so she’ll leave my house.”

“you heard the lady. i’ll do it,” peter gives in. all but squealing, mj gestures for ned to sit. “this’ll only take a few minutes. you guys are really saving my ass.” ned gets comfortable next to peter on the couch, who wants to see how far mj will really go. “aw, we are? i believe that calls for a…” ned catches on. “it comes after please…” mj picks up her camera with gritted teeth. “thank you, morons. say cheese!”

that’s the only warning peter and ned get before they’re blinded with the flash. ned does a toothy grin as he leans into peter’s side. peter musters up the best smile he can, hair a mess and cuts burning pink on his face. satisfied, mj snatches the photograph as it pops out.

“pleasure doing business with you two,” she states, you joining the three of them in the living room. you set the popcorn on the table and give peter his ice pack. he presses it to his cheek, kissing the back of your hand. “send me that!” ned reminds mj, helping himself to your bowl of popcorn. she salutes him.

“there’s my star. what do you say, y/n? wanna take one more really quick?” mj suggests, already holding up her polaroid. you take the other cushion next to peter, your head on his shoulder. “can peter be in it with me? since he’s in the modeling mood tonight.” he wraps an arm tightly around you. “let’s do it, sweetness.”

eagerly jumping in front of you two, mj crouches down to get a better angle. “on the count of three. one, two, three!” the camera clicks, and you surprise peter by laying a smooch on one of his cheeks. he’s holding the ice against his other, genuinely smiling for this picture. ned coos at you, mj showing off her work when it dries.

“how adorable,” she says sarcastically but means it. peter nods at her in appreciation, his lips brushing the side of your head. “what can i say, you’re a pro,” you compliment mj. “come on, em!” ned cheers through a mouthful of popcorn.

tonight was an unexpected and exciting mess, even if your date night did get crashed.

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker smut #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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nctsworld · 3 years

Text

the yuletide boyfriend

SUMMARY‌ ‌⇾‌ your one wish this year is to not be single during the holidays. yangyang, as your best friend, takes it upon himself to be your temporary boyfriend. soon enough, both parties begin to wish this new arrangement could last beyond the holidays. // part of the x-mas in ncity collection WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ implied ‌anxiety attack (during the first part of dec 24th – skip if need to), smut, mutual m*sturbation, couch s*x, angst, miscommunication, swearing RATING‌ ‌⇾‌ mature TAGLIST ⇾ @infnteen

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ this is my longest fic to date and also... might be my worst b/c i feel like the angst plot points don’t really make sense... but i hope y’all still enjoy!!!

⇾ gif created by me, please don’t share or repost without credit!

NOVEMBER 30th

“So, anything special on your wishlist this year?”

Your best friend, Yangyang, asks you as you two sit next to each other on one of the many plush lounge couches in the Psychology building. It’s the usual lunch spot where you meet with him during your break between lectures.

The Psych building held much sentimental value for both of you because you met in Psych 101 during first year. Fast-forward three years later, neither of you expected to be the close friends that you are today.

Chewing your sandwich, you ponder on his question for a bit. Through the transparent glass walls leading to outside, you see the trickle of students heading towards the building since class is about to start for the noon round of lectures. A couple, you assume by the tight hand-holding and nose kissing, giggles as they enter the building, glued to one another by the hip.

“Not really.” You drop your head downward to your lunch container, smiling to yourself. “I’m honestly just happy to have Mark in my life, especially at this point in the year.”

Yangyang nods in accordance and smiles too, understanding the story behind your sentiment.

The boyfriends you’ve had since first year have always broken up with you before the holidays, right before the end of November. Since you only became close during second year, Yangyang’s been around for two out of three of your cursed holiday break-ups.

To have Mark, your latest boyfriend, be with you and it being already December tomorrow, it was truly a blessing for you and a silver lining that maybe this was the year to break the curse. Yangyang was grateful too, wanting you to have the utmost happiness.

You take another bite of your sandwich and tilt your chin toward the ramen eater.

“You?”

Yangyang slurps a few more noodles before he answers.

“I mean, the new Playstation would be nice,” he hums, mouth full.

Pointing the tip of your sandwich, you joke, “I’ll get it for you, but only if we share custody over it.”

“Mm-mm,” he shakes his head during a mid-slurp. “You know I can’t promise that.”

Both of you laugh in unison, living in the calm before the oncoming storm.

DECEMBER 5th

The E-Sports club for the university is hosting a party tonight and because Yangyang’s on one of the professional teams, he asked a few weeks ago if you and Mark wanted to attend. Of course you accepted; Mark also had some friends in the club.

However, when you text Yangyang in the afternoon, stating a change of mind, he knows something’s off.

Half an hour before the party starts, Yangyang decides to visit you. Thankfully you both lived on campus, but even if you lived across town, he’d still bus out to see how you were doing. He does it all the time to visit his family, anyway.

In the living room, the two sudden knocks at your door startle you. Peering through the peephole, you see the usual sight of your best friend, his lips curled upward and thumbs tucked in his pockets as he rocks on the balls of his feet.

It feels like an eternity for him when you unlock your door. The hinges squeal as you open it hesitatingly, your face barely appearing through the agape crack.

Immediately, his smile dissolves. Your face is drained and blood-shot eyes avoiding his own confront him.

Yangyang has only seen you cry twice in the three years he’s known you:

Once, when you were freaking the fuck out over potentially failing a course (but, on the upside, you ended up passing the final to save your grade).

The second time was at his house for a family dinner, when his mom accidentally added too much hot chili sauce to her homemade beef noodle soup (let’s just say you weren’t the only one crying that night).

Those were tears of dread and physical discomfort.

But this… this was crying he’s never seen from you before. His chest collapses inward, fearful of the reason behind your tears.

His voice shakes as he asks, “What happened? Are you okay?”

Neither of you are major huggers and only exchange them on the rare occasion.

However, this situation screams the necessity of it, so Yangyang lunges towards you, the collision swinging the door out of the way. His arms embrace you like a large, warm blanket. Comforting and safe.

Despite the affection, emptiness has taken over your body. Tonight, you’re a dead, empty shell of who you normally are.

You feel weak to the bone, but you muster up enough energy to scarcely raise your arms over his back to return the hug. Your eyes are dry from all the crying you’ve done all day, but apparently you have more tears left in you to spare.

Your eyelids snap shut and your jaw clenches.

“Mark broke up with me.”

Your words are muffled into his shoulder, but Yangyang hears it crystal clear.

You break down, sobbing out of control over the statement.

As aforementioned, Yangyang’s been around for your last two, now three, break-ups. Sure, he’s aware of how grumpy and distant you can get, but you never cried in front of him. You made an effort to never have him see you at your lowest point.

And yet, here you are, drowning him in your misery. Guilt washes over you for drenching his bomber jacket, but Yangyang couldn’t give two shits. His arms squeeze tighter while he rubs your back tenderly.

After several minutes pass and your waterworks abate, you peel away from him. You sniffle and rub your nose with the back of your hand.

“Sorry about cancelling last minute.”

“Hey, no need to apologize,” he whispers soothingly.

“I’m just… so fucking frustrated.”

With fatigued eyes, you drag yourself back inside your apartment. Yangyang discreetly closes the door behind him and hurriedly uses his feet to push off his shoes. As he does so, your mouth begins to run off while you slowly pace around aimlessly.

“Fucking done with boyfriends, especially when they think it’s so fucking awesome to keep breaking up with me right before the holidays.”

He kicks off his last stubborn shoe and catches you raking your hands through your hair, pulling it back firmly. Your lips are trembling, along with your entire frame.

“Like I get that I’m horrible and needy and emotional—”

His mouth opens, wanting to cut in to disagree with you with all his heart, but he clamps it back shut and swallows, allowing you to blow your steam off.

“—but can’t they wait until the fucking new year? I don’t know, or maybe just don’t date me in the first place! I don’t know, I don’t fucking know anymore. I’m just cursed, Yangyang...”

You flop down onto the couch and sink into the ocean of shiny pleather, shutting your eyes and trying to stop crying for the nth time. The deep sting behind your eyelids pain you, but it pains Yangyang more to watch the events unfolding ahead of him.

Unsure of what to say, Yangyang walks around the room. His gaze falls on your laptop screen and he frowns at the mostly bare Word document that stares back at him:

“WISHLIST: -KEEP ONE (1) FUCKING BOYFRIEND DURING THE CHRISTMAS SEASON!!!!!!!! GOD FUCKING SDKMFLDS”

There are a few more lines below it with more profanities and keyboard smashing. He quickly darts away, a pang of guilt striking for invading your privacy.

Then, he turns to you on the couch again. You’re now covering your eyes with your forearm, pressing your lips together. His chest twists and his throat is arid as a desert.

You’re in shambles and he’s dying to pick up the shattered pieces of you, wants to glue you back together. On a regular basis, Yangyang’s a talking machine and can talk your ear off for hours, but right now, he doesn’t know what to say to you in your current state. He second-guesses himself, wonders if he’s even that great of a friend if he can’t comfort you in your worst times.

Blowing out a long sigh and removing your arm, you speak aloud, “You should get going to the party.”

Like awakening from a deep slumber, you rise up sluggishly and sit up on the couch, slouched over. The other figure in the room steps closer to you.

“Sorry about your jacket, by the way,” you say. Your body is still, but your glazed eyes move to the dark spot on the middle of his shoulder. He glances at it and shrugs.

“It’s better like this anyway,” he says with a gentle smile, and the tight knot in his heart softens at the flicker of your own smile, albeit a small one. Unfortunately, it fades in a few seconds. “I don’t want to leave you like this, though.”

You stare at the used, crumpled balls of tissues scattered on the living room table. Some also ended up on the floor. Break-ups are shit and 98% inevitable, but you know you’ll eventually get over it. You always do.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

He raises an eyebrow, as if asking, “Are you sure?” The lack of a worded reply causes you to notice the question written on his face.

“Go,” you plead with a feeble laugh. “Have fun for me.”

Both of you head towards your front door again. Crossing your arms, you lean your head against the door frame and attempt a smile for your best friend.

“Thanks again for checking up on me.”

Yangyang nods with a half-smile, half-pout, “Of course.”

You give him a departing wave prior to sealing your door.

Usually, Yangyang would bus from your place to the student union building, where the party is being held. Instead, he zippers up his jacket and stuffs his fists into his pockets, opting to bear the early winter chill to walk his thoughts off. His blazing self-doubt burns at first, but he overcomes it by focusing on ideas to fix your accursed dating rut instead.

Halfway through the walk, a light bulb moment occurs. A plan begins to brew on the surface of his mind and he thinks on it for the rest of the week.

DECEMBER 11th

It’s been almost a week since you last saw Yangyang.

Finals started already, so classes were done for the semester and thus, your lunch meet-ups halted too. On top of that, since you were simultaneously moping and studying, you hadn’t really texted him much, nor had he, besides the occasional check-up text on how studying was going and random memes. Yangyang knew you preferred time alone to heal and he respected that.

He also thought six days was enough time to get yourself back on your feet.

Yangyang’s at your front door once again, but this time with two bowls of his mom’s beef noodle soup in tow.

“Long time, no see,” you greet. Your tone is chipper, but your eyes look heavy, which could be partially from studying, Yangyang thinks. His smile deepens, content that you seem a lot better than the last time he visited.

“Delivery for two,” he raises the bag in his hand.

“And if I told you I already ate dinner?” you playfully retort.

The boyish man shrugs defeatedly, “Then I’ll tell my mom you hate her cooking—”

“You didn’t say it was your mom’s, Yangyang. Oh, my God,” you gasp, half-mockingly. You rush to grab the bags out of his hand and stroll towards your tiny kitchen. “Start off with that next time.”

As you remove the containers from the bag and onto the granite countertop, Yangyang shuts the door and takes his shoes off.

“So, I’m gonna be upfront and say that I may have come here with a proposal.”

“Changed your mind about the shared custody of the Playstation?”

“I’m still considering that one.” Finally in his socks, he slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it onto the couch along with his jacket. He stands next to you by the counter. “But it’s on the same page as that. Remember that day we were talking about wishlists?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hum as you rip off the lid of one of the bowls. Blatant wisps fly upward and you inhale the savoury aroma, followed by a heavenly sigh.

“Last time I was here… I might’ve seen what you wrote on your laptop.”

Your expression immediately changes into full-on cringe. You bring a palm over to your face.

“Oh, God. Let’s not talk about that. That was just weepy, lonely me talking.”

Yangyang pops off the lid for his bowl and steps into your kitchen, rummaging through your drawers for chopsticks. “So you’re telling me you don’t want a boyfriend for Christmas?”

Your hand flies off your face. Eyes widening, you spew, “Do you have a boyfriend in your pocket, ready for me to have?”

In your open hand, he places a pair of chopsticks into it. “Well, actually, I was thinking—”

Sternly, you point the chopsticks at him. “Don’t you dare set me up with your friends.”

He counters and points his at you, “Even better than that.”

With your interest piqued, you slide yourself onto the counter stool and mix the noodles around, anticipating to hear Yangyang’s fantastic plan. Your friend sits on the other stool, facing you. He pauses for a second, taking a deep breath.

“Why don’t I be your boyfriend for the holidays?”

You freeze, and the noodles’ drips above your bowl are deafening to both individuals. Laughing awkwardly, you break your frozen state to drop your chopsticks and turn your head to look at him.

Sputtering, you say, “What?”

Unnerved, his mouth pinches to one side, thinking maybe he shouldn’t have even said anything in the first place. This was stupid, so stupid, but it’s out in the open and Yangyang already dug his grave—he may as well lay in it.

“Well, for one, it’s something on your wishlist that I can easily get,” he pauses mid-sentence, glancing upward in thought. “Well, really, fill? Is that a better way to put it?”

He continues, eyes back on you, “And two, I’m not setting you up with a stranger or someone you wouldn’t be comfortable with. I assume you know me well enough that you’re comfortable around me?”

Yangyang lifts an upturned palm and raises an eyebrow, waiting for a response to his assumption. Petulantly, you shake your head playfully and stick out your tongue at him.

Rubbing the back of his neck, his gaze drops down to the floor for his last point. His voice lowers.

“And, I don’t know, we’d just hang out like we usually do during that time, except we’d do more couple-y things.”

Realizing the implication of his words, he widens his eyes. “I mean, we'll do whatever you’re comfortable with, obviously. We don’t have to do any of the physical stuff—”

You burst into a giggle at his rambling and hold a hand out, cutting him off. “Okay, Yang. I get it.”

Yangyang watches your next moves carefully. You’re peering off to one side and picking at the tips of your fingers. After a minute that feels like forever, you nod slowly.

“I guess you have a point. We are sorta like a couple already.”

Your best friend sighs in relief, grinning that you’re not outright rejecting the idea.

“So,” you meet his eyes and bunch a shoulder up towards your ear. “We’ll just be a couple until what, New Year’s?”

“Yeah, sure,” he shrugs indifferently. “Whatever you want. It’s your Christmas wish.”

You chuckle and shake your head in disbelief that you two are actually making an agreement for Yangyang to be your temporary, holiday boyfriend.

Honestly, it’s a little crazy... but maybe it’s the perfect thing to get your mind off of Mark and the handful of holiday exes hanging above your head.

“Okay, since my last final is on the 21st, let’s start ‘dating’ then and we’ll play everything by ear, see how it goes.”

Yangyang bobs his head eagerly. “Sounds good, soon-to-be girlfriend.”

He sticks a hand out for you to shake. You take it firmly, sealing the deal and flashing him a grin.

“Soon-to-be boyfriend.”

Although the night goes on like usual between the two of you, you couldn’t deny how ecstatic you are to finally have a boyfriend during the holidays, even if it was technically your best friend as a stand-in.

DECEMBER 21st

Tonight’s your first date with Yangyang.

That sounds weird to say, you admit to yourself, but it’s the truth.

After you stroll out of your last final of the semester, Yangyang’s waiting for you inside near the main exit of the building with several layers on, including his hoodie over his head and a knitted scarf underneath. His attention leaves his phone and he stuffs it into pocket as he notices you heading over.

“Hey, girlfriend,” he welcomes you, beaming.

You snicker at the unfamiliar label. You wonder if you’re going to get used to this, even if it’s only for two weeks.

“Hey, boyfriend,” you grin harder as the word falls from your lips, trying your best not to outright burst into laughter. “Where we heading off to?”

Although you said both of you could play the dating by ear, Yangyang’s been keen on scheduling plans for the upcoming days. You told him he didn’t have to, however, he insisted by saying that he wouldn’t only be a horrible boyfriend, but a horrible friend if he couldn’t make the next weeks fun for you.

Yangyang was anything but a horrible friend, and the fact that he was willing to be your holiday boyfriend to make you happy proved it further. Nevertheless, you gladly let him take the reins.

“I was thinking the movies tonight? See the latest Marvel film?”

Concurring to the idea, you scurry towards the bus stop and are movie-theatre bound to the nearest one off-campus. Arriving at the theatre, Yangyang and you buy your tickets and a popcorn to share, then head into the respective auditorium where the movie is playing. Since the movie’s been running for a couple of weeks, the auditorium is fairly empty, giving you two the chance to snag perfect middle seats with nobody else is in the row.

Up to this point, aside from the name-dropping of boyfriend and girlfriend, this feels less like a date and more like any other hang-out with him. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing awkward.

But that changes during a third of the movie.

You’re both so immersed by the screen that neither party notices the other’s hand when both of you reach for the popcorn in Yangyang’s lap at the same time.

A jolt runs through as your hands brush together. The duo’s eyes tear away from the screen and flit to the action happening in real-time. The touch lingers for several moments.

“Sorry,” you quickly mumble, drawing your hand back slightly, but still hovering over the popcorn.

“Uhm,” Yangyang licks his lips and visibly gulps under the screen’s bright glare.

He whispers, his voice almost cracking, “As your boyfriend, can I hold your hand?”

Okay, this is just your best friend, acting as your temporary boyfriend, asking to hold your hand. No big deal, no big deal at all.

Yet, the thunderous knocking in your ears, louder than the explosions blasting through the theatre’s speakers, suggests otherwise.

You don’t even register it, but you’re already nodding in response. Your breathing slows to the rate of Yangyang’s hand inching over. At the anticipated contact, you gasp softly. His smooth fingers clasp over yours. Since the arm rest in the middle of you is positioned upward, there’s no obtrusion and you relax, letting your hands mingle in between the empty space.

Without looking at one another, both of you smile bashfully to yourselves as you try to continue to focus on the screen.

After a while, because you aren’t exactly holding hands, you spread your fingers, hastily doing so because you don’t want him to think you’re breaking the interaction, and twist your palm to properly interlock hands with him. You give Yangyang’s hand a warm, gentle squeeze. He does the same and even strokes his thumb against your skin.

Talk about playing everything by ear. Who knew you’d be hand in hand on the first date?

You attempt to not think much on it, but Yangyang’s hand in yours feels... so right, like your hand was made for this, for his to hold. Like you should’ve done this way sooner.

And if Yangyang’s thoughts could be heard, he’s thinking the same.

Despite the mutual fear of sweaty palms, neither of you desire to let go, so much that you not only hold hands during the rest of the movie, but throughout the bus ride back to campus and all the way until he escorts you to your front door.

With a certain charge in the atmosphere, you exchange sweet good-byes. That night, after the culmination of stress from finals and your worries of your holiday exes, you finally have a peaceful sleep, looking forward to your date with Yangyang tomorrow.

DECEMBER 22nd

“Babe, how do I look?”

“Very pretty, honey.” A bundled up Yangyang winks at you from behind his phone.

The second date is an evening at a Christmas light festival at a botanical garden on the outskirts of town. The lights illuminate so strongly; there was a glowing dome-like hue over the location that seemed to reach the dark sky as you got off the bus.

When stepping foot into the garden, all the encompassing lights mesmerize you. Lights on the various greenery, lights as decorative art pieces, lights lining the pathways. Different shades of colours and shapes engulf the massive area.

Yangyang’s currently in the middle of taking your photo near an arch tangled with dark blue, gold, and white bulbs. All night long, you’ve been mockingly using endearing terms, but, despite the frigid air, your cheeks heat up over something else he just said.

“You think I’m pretty?” you genuinely ask, breaking your pose.

He lowers his phone a bit, his jaw dangling.

“Uh, I mean,” he giggles awkwardly, nodding softly. “Yeah.”

Yangyang never told you, but he initially sat near you in Psych 101 because he thought you were the most stunning girl in the class. And sure, he was a little disappointed at the time to find out you had a boyfriend, but that didn’t mean you two couldn’t still be friends. Other than the first few weeks he had a crush on you, he’s never thought of you as more than a friend.

But those feelings are resurfacing, hitting him in the chest like a bag of bricks, due to moments like this one—you’re batting your eyelids, gaze straying elsewhere, and adorably chewing on your lower lip.

“And you’re not just saying that as my holiday boyfriend?”

Pouting to one side, he shakes his head cutely. “Mm-mm.”

On the flipside, the beginning with Yangyang for you was strictly platonic. You were dating Haechan at the time you met him. When Haechan broke up with you later that fall, you kept a distance from dating for a while, heartbroken from the high school love gone sour. During that period, you never told him, but you did run through the possibility of dating Yangyang since you got along so well... until you met Jaemin earlier the next semester, who stole your heart. Ever since then, you’ve never seen Yangyang under that light again.

Despite that, you can’t deny how attractive he is, and now that you’re single and technically dating him, you embrace the fact with open arms.

Beaming as bright as the lights, you tug him by the end of his puffer jacket’s sleeve to bring him closer to you.

“C’mon, handsome, let’s take some pictures together.” Prickles rise under Yangyang’s cheeks from the off-hand compliment.

Holding your phone up in the air at about an arm’s length away, the side of your heads touch to prepare for a few selfies. When you finish capturing them, Yangyang’s hovering over your shoulder as you scroll through to glance through the photos.

“We look good together,” you comment. “Don’t you think?”

In sync, your heads turn to meet each other. Your eyes waver from the blatant clouds of your breaths and over to his lips. The clouds become rapid bursts as you begin to lean forward. So does Yangyang.

“Do you guys want a picture together?” someone suddenly asks. The abrupt voice drags you both apart instantly, crushing the moment into pieces.

“Sure,” you peep, fumbling to hand your phone over to the stranger.

Posing, Yangyang’s hand rests around the middle of your back, which is the norm when you take pictures with him, but he pulls you in snugly. You smile even wider, relishing in the new-level of intimacy and allow yourself to be truly content among his presence.

“You guys are such a cute couple,” the stranger gushes while they return your phone prior to walking away.

“I guess we are, huh, babe?” you jut your tongue out in jest at him. This time, you indulge in the endearing term without a sliver of mockery.

Yangyang copies you, jutting his tongue out further than yours, and seizes your hand to continue the tour around the gleaming garden.

The almost-kiss isn’t mentioned for the rest of the night, nor is it acted upon, but both individuals dwell on the near occurrence before sleep that evening, staring longingly at their bedroom ceiling.

DECEMBER 23rd

For the third date, you find yourselves at the campus’ dedicated ice rink arena to partake in ice skating.

You’ve skated a few times in the past, but you’re by no means a pro. On the other hand, this is apparently Yangyang’s first time, and he’s already skating circles around you.

“Show off,” you grumble as he does another lap past you. Your gloved hands are splayed out in front of you, careful not to fall flat on your face.

Turning on his blades, he rebounds over to you.

“Sorry,” he pants. His raised cheeks glow an adorable shade of pink. “This is really fun when you get the hang of it.”

Yangyang intertwines his fingers with yours before you can say anything. “C’mon, take my hand.”

At first, it was sweet to skate alongside your holiday boyfriend, notwithstanding the few times you almost trip. As the minutes pass, you think you’re getting the hang of it, but suddenly, Yangyang unleashes your hand and glides ahead of you, abandoning you to slide at a swift pace that is definitely out of your comfort zone.

“Yangyang, what the fuck?!” you screech, completely disregarding the handful of surrounding parents with their kids, the former sending daggers your direction. Your ankles struggle to make a T-shape to stop, but the struggling only somehow makes you move faster.

As he spins to face you, now skating backwards with ease, he says, “See, you got the hang of it-oomph—”

Air’s struck from his lungs when you crash into his body. Thankfully, Yangyang skids his blades harshly against the ice and is able to steady and support you within his arms.

“You little fucker,” you gripe, lightly punching him in the arm.

He chuckles blithely, “Sorry, but it was kinda funny, you gotta admit.”

You breathe a large huff, which makes you note how your hair is falling over your face after the catastrophe. You’re about to lift your hand to rearrange the strands, but Yangyang beats you to it and is in the midst of tucking them behind your ear.

The knocking in your ears reappears with a vengeance and the physical source of the knocking is thrashing violently against your chest.

Your scorching breaths fuse in the refrigerated rink as Yangyang eliminates the inches of space between, his plush mouth ultimately converging with yours.

You have to constantly remind yourself to breathe under Yangyang’s intensity, and remind yourself that you’re in a public space and shouldn’t be making out like this.

But everyone’s skating around the couple, daring to not disrupt the affectionate display.

God, you don’t know when was the last time you’ve been kissed like this. Have you ever even experienced a kiss that was a fraction of this? Yangyang daintily cups your cheeks like you’re glass, but his lips press ruggedly into yours, inflaming your entirety and melting any existence of your figurative fragility.

You ignore the echo in the back of your mind that reminds you he’s your temporary boyfriend.

The Talk will inevitably occur, but your future self could deal with it. Presently, you’re too caught up, drowning in Yangyang’s embrace.

DECEMBER 24th

On Christmas Eve, Yangyang decides to bring you to an outdoor Christmas market.

Understandably, since it’s the day before Christmas, the place is absolutely packed. For the first fifteen minutes or so, it’s joyous being immersed in the Christmas spirit with the assorted little shops and their respective products. You’re holding Yangyang’s hand tightly, pointing and half-shouting over the bustle about the items that catch your eye.

Unfortunately, someone accidentally bumps against your arms and your hand is gone from his.

Swivelling your head, searching through the crowd, it occurs to you that you officially lost Yangyang.

Your feet come to a halt as your hand attempts to dig into your jacket pocket to pluck your phone out, but the moving crowd forces you to constantly follow the stream.

You yell for him, but words can’t materialize. Your windpipe tightens. Your breath is becoming shallower and shallower. Blood pulses in your ears alarmingly, blocking out the clamour from around you. Your mind’s running everywhere without control.

Where is your boyfriend?

No, scratch that, he’s not your actual boyfriend—where is your best friend?

Did he leave you? He would never.

Right?

But what happens when all of this is over? Will you still have your best friend?

You’ve avoided The Talk long enough, but you didn’t expect to catch feelings for him. Not like this.

Maybe you’re just destined to be alone.

Is this how it feels to actually lose him?

Tears fight your vision. You hear a faint call of your name, but you can’t urge yourself to turn around, sinking only further into the sea of anonymity. You’re just a face in a crowd, all alone, with no one who cares—

Yangyang grasps you by the arm and maneuvers you aside to a less busy area behind one of the vendor stands.

“Oh, God, thought I lost you there—”

You cut him off, hugging him with all your might and stuff your face in his chest cushioned by the downy layers of his winter jacket. Yangyang immediately drapes his arms securely around you, reading your uneasiness.

“Hey, I got you. I got you,” he soothes, running a hand through your hair. “God, not my best idea. Sorry for bringing you here.”

You shake your head, wordlessly informing him that it’s okay. You’re just glad to be with him again.

“Wanna go home?”

You nod solemnly, and Yangyang zips you out of there in minutes with his arm tucked by your side, ensuring he doesn’t lose you in the crowd again.

Fortunately, the jitters mostly disappear when you arrive at your place in the late afternoon. You’re in the middle of rummaging through your keys to unlock your door.

“Sorry I didn’t have anything else planned for today,” he mumbles, leaning with folded arms against the wall.

“Did you...” You insert the correct key and turn the lock, clicking the door open. Your gaze lifts to match his. “Did you wanna maybe have dinner with me tonight? I was thinking of ordering pizza in.”

The grin that reaches his eyes is a sufficient answer for you.

“Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” He hangs his arm around your shoulder and plants a kiss atop your head.

After chomping down pizza and playing a few rounds of Super Smash Bros. on Yangyang’s Switch, you peer over to him on your living room couch while he’s figuring out which character he should play next.

The little mental voice in the back of your mind prods you, reminding that you should really, really have The Talk soon. The Talk that you swept under the rug at the start by saying you’d play everything by ear.

Four dates later, and the thought of this ending scares the living daylights out of you. This not only including the interim relationship, but the dire possibility of the friendship itself too. Is it possible to go back to how you were, flipping it off like a light switch?

But the internal voice is smothered as you’re drawn to his pouting lips in thought. His pouting, oh-so kissable lips. Following the ice skating kiss yesterday, you only shared a good-bye kiss when he dropped you off. Since then, you’ve been itching to have his lips on yours again.

Yangyang eventually detects your lack of focus and finds you gawking at his mouth. Your gaze dashes to his eyes, blinking innocently, but then his eyes flicker to your mouth.

The tension in the room snaps. You two carefully throw the Switch controllers off to one side and attach yourselves together. Unlike the crashing of your bodies at the ice rink, this one is purposeful. Deliberated, as his forehead presses into yours and his tender caress carries your cheek. Your body plummets backwards until Yangyang pins you completely into the couch.

Initially, the lip-locking is gentle and mild. Your fingers lay in the vicinity of his angular visage and sturdy upper frame, in contrast to his hand curling around your waist in a light squeeze.

Soon, hands traverse to other regions—his back, your thigh, his stomach, your ass. Each touch seeking, craving, whining. Tongues slinking and dancing with appetite. Your bodies buzz for more.

Open-mouthed kisses transition from the damp lips to each other’s necks. The touches dig deeper, thriving with hunger. Your back bows, body curving into his. Grinding ensues and his robust desire is blatant against your own pulsing passion.

“You don’t happen to have any condoms on you, do you?” you groan upwards to the ceiling.

He retracts from your neck to swing his head side to side, grumbling a “Sorry, we can stop...” yet you interrupt his apology by cupping his covered length. The guttural groan he exhales into your lips makes you shiver with pleasure.

“Doesn’t mean we still can’t have fun with our hands...” you say slyly.

“Fuck yeah,” he rasps, smirking, before diving in again to taste your mouth.

Clothes are stripped with the assistance of each other, leaving you with only your bra on while Yangyang opts to be completely bare. He tops your body in the same position once more.

On the couch arm rest, your head is perched with his hand clutching the space next to it for leverage. Both figures are too scatter-brained to delve into the exquisite nudity of one another, hands flying desperately to your respective arousals.

Your pretty fingers wrap around his possession almost exactly when he dips two digits into your warmth. In unison, two sharp, quiet gasps pierce the room.

“Shit, you’re so wet,” he hisses observantly. You’re so overwhelmed by the bliss that you can’t assemble any sort of response.

Your mouth’s parted to one side, chest soaring with each plunge. Through his clouded vision, he ambles over your curves and lines and yearns to see your breasts, but he respects your choice of keeping it on and opts to ambush the expanse with kisses. Your chest is launched further into his mouth and Yangyang assumes you’re enjoying this.

Fearing friction burn, you drop him from your grip momentarily, swiping a few licks over your palm. When your hand pumps him again, now drenched with saliva, grunts reverberate against your skin.

“Yangyang?” you whimper, causing his face to pull away from the temple of your body.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m-I’m close.” And he can attest to it; the contractions around him are increasing, harshly squeezing his fingers.

“Same,” he pants.

Your best friend flicks his wrist with ignition, securing your waves of elation. You attempt to do the same, but it’s difficult when he’s also sloppily thrusting himself into your fist, so you simply clench your grasp harder. His features pinch and choppy moans dribble as he yields to his climax, gushing himself over your stomach.

Still sucking in lungfuls of air, Yangyang kisses you tenderly before removing himself to clean up the mess he made.

Following the clean-up, while putting on your clothes, Yangyang expresses how he should get going since it’s getting late.

“Did you wanna stay the night?” you pipe up.

His mind races, debating on whether to leave or not, anxious to blur the lines of your relationship even further.

Sure, he’s your temporary boyfriend, thus staying over at your place shouldn’t mean anything. But this agreement is ending next week, and he’s questioning if you two can stay just friends after this, knowing that he’s going to want more. Yangyang has had a taste of the what if, and it’s now irrevocable.

He wants you all for himself. Selfishly, but deeply.

For the sake of keeping this a great thing for you, he shoves his thoughts aside. This is all about you and for your benefit, anyhow.

“Uh, sure, I can take the couch like I always—”

“Yangyang, you just put your fingers inside of me,” you snicker, snagging him by the hand to your bedroom. “C’mon.”

The rest of the night is relatively chaste with some kisses and touches here and there. Eventually, you fall asleep facing each other with your fingers interlocked, excited for the big day tomorrow.

DECEMBER 25th

Normally on Christmas, Yangyang and you spend it with your respective families, but coincidentally, both of your families, your parents being retired and all, ended up vacationing this year, leaving the two of you to spend it with each other.

After getting up around noon, Yangyang heads to his place to grab his gift. He takes longer than you expected because, as it turns out, he also went home to grab baking goods he bought beforehand since he wants to make butter cookies with you today.

The cookies end up fine, but the mess is another story. Besides the chaos on the counter, your faces and aprons are splotched with flour (you swear he started it, but he disagrees and stands his ground that you’re the perpetrator). With a damp cloth, Yangyang aids you to clean, but not forgetting to wipe your face and giving you pecks over your cheeks and nose.

The baking and aftermath occupies most of the afternoon, so dinner comes in the form of fancy, romantic instant ramen for two. Afterwards, you two sit in your living room and start to exchange gifts.

Yangyang hands his over to you first. From the size of the gift and the crumpled, oddly-shaped wrapping, you already can guess it’s a stuffed plushie of a cute animal to add to your never ending collection. You hug it tightly with a large smile.

“It’s so cute, thank you!” you squeal, but you change your expression in an instant to a serious pout. “But you can’t steal this one like you did with my Ice Bear plushie.”

“Hey, I didn’t steal Ice Bear, I just forgot to give him back.” You roll your eyes sarcastically and he laughs. “I’ll bring him over tomorrow, if it makes you feel better.”

Then, when it’s your turn, you head into your bedroom and come out with a large, white shopping bag. His eyebrows raise, unsure of what could warrant a gift this size.

“For being my holiday boyfriend,” you grin, placing the bag in front of his feet.

Despite the hugest smile on your face, his heart sinks at the label for a second, but he blinks and wills himself to look inside the bag.

His eyes shoot open, so much that you’re scared you might have to stuff them back into his sockets.

Yangyang slips the box out of the bag with precision and stares at it speechlessly.

It’s the new Playstation.

He shifts his eyes toward you. You’re swaying on the couch, pleased by his reaction.

“Your parents paid for most of it, so I can’t take all the credit.” Sticking a finger in the air, you add, “You just gotta promise to share custody with me though—”

A hand behind your head yanks you into a deep kiss. He’s not the only one left speechless on the couch. He places the top of his head against yours.

“You’re crazy, but I love—” He quickly catches himself from saying something he might regret. “—I love it so much, thank you. Now I feel bad for getting you only the stuffed animal...”

You shake your head softly, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone.

“Thank you for everything.” Your eyes twinkle. “I couldn’t have asked to spend the holidays with anyone else.”

Carefully, like a newborn baby, he safely situates the boxed Playstation to one side and nabs your lips with his again. The scene feels like repeat of last night as your bodies wrestle passionately on the couch.

“Not to be presumptuous,” he mutters between the kisses upon your neck. Your eyelids flutter at the sensation. “But I also grabbed condoms from my place when I stopped by.”

His words sends the two of you leaping towards your bedroom. Under the dim lighting, you fall into the bed as Yangyang pares your layers off, one by one. With each peel, his lips roam the revealing bare skin. You swear he has kissed you from your literal head to toe when you’re fully nude in front of him.

Your companion drags his shirt over his head, throws it off to your floor, and immediately targets in onto your nub with his mouth, finally satiating his craving from last night.

Fingers thread into his hair and over his flexed back. His tongue swirls and his teeth lightly tug on your perkiness, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And he still isn’t even inside you yet.

After leaving love upon your other bosom, Yangyang fumbles with the condom, forgetting which way it should go on. Giggling, you perch yourself onto your elbows and assist him. Rolling it over his possession, you recline yourself back and spread your legs for him.

Pensively, he sticks his tongue out as he adjusts himself between your sex, easing himself into you, and upon the full impact, you meet his gaze head-on. His stare makes you feel vulnerable and exposed beyond the physical plane.

But, unlike the others you have been with, you trust him with everything, like you always have, and be free with him. Losing your inhibitions and submitting to your whims, you entangle and become one with Yangyang.

Behind his hazy vision, Yangyang’s simply thinking how beautiful you are, how he can’t imagine anyone else under his touch but you, how he is willing to give up anything to make you smile.

Well, in this case, he’s willing to give up anything to make you pleased.

However, it doesn’t seem like he needs to do much because you’re howling his name and clinging onto his skin and the sheets in a frenzy, like you’re about to die of exhaustion.

You perish a few times under him before he finally reaches his little death himself, convulsing into the sheath.

When air’s replenished into your bodies, you rest on his chest under your blanket. Glancing up at him, you move some of his tousled hair off his sleek forehead.

“Merry Christmas, Yangyang,” you whisper, snuggling him with a satisfied smile.

“Merry Christmas, babe,” he whispers back, giving you one last peck before you both drift into a deep slumber together.

DECEMBER 26th

Last night took so much out of the both of you, you don’t get out of bed until about the middle of the afternoon. Yangyang doesn’t have anything planned for today since it’s Boxing Day, since the crowds might be crazy wherever you go, so it’s officially a chill, rest day for you both.

When you step out of the shower in fresh clothes, from behind the couch, you watch Yangyang gaming on his Switch.

The little voice in your head looms, prompting that now is the time to have The Talk, and speaks up on your behalf.

“Do we have to end things next week?” you croak.

You see Yangyang’s shoulders stiffen, then he pauses the game and turns around to face you. His gaze follows you as you step closer to the couch, opting to stand.

“Uhm.” His Adam’s apple bobs and he shrugs. “It’s up to you, it’s your—”

“Yangyang, that’s not what I’m asking. I’m asking what you think, how do you feel?”

His lips press together and he’s staring at the floor. You can tell the gears are moving, but you can’t read his expression clearly.

“I’m down for whatever you want to do,” he says slowly, eyes still averting yours.

That’s a I’m-your-best-friend answer, you deduce. Not a I-want-to-be-your-actual-boyfriend answer.

He adds, stuttering, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind doing this a little longer if that’s what you want—”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “Did you just sign up to be my short-term boyfriend so you can fill my empty heart?”

His eyebrows crease with confusion. “I mean, I never want to see you unhappy.”

“So it’s pity dating then?” you lash, raising your voice.

“No, I—” Yangyang bites down on his tongue, almost letting the one word slip out again. He blows out a lengthy sigh and runs a hand through his hair. “I care about you, so much. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

You’re defining his words as an affirmation of friendship and as an underlying rejection of your love.

You need to know for certain.

“Do you love me, Yangyang?” you blurt. “As more than a friend?”

This is it, Yangyang thinks. This is your chance to let her know how you feel.

But the distress written on your face makes him wonder if he should even go through with it, and it’s intensifying with every passing moment that he’s not speaking.

If only he knew your distress was deepening because you took his hesitance as absolute rejection.

Your heart is breaking because of him, and he technically wasn’t even yours to begin with.

You smack your lips together and gulp a few times, trying to make the huge knot in your throat disappear.

“You know what, maybe let’s just forget this arrangement and leave it all behind and forget about the sex and—”

“You wanna stop this?” he utters quietly.

The word “this” hangs heavy in the air. This, carrying the weight of not only being the temporary agreement, but also your friendship.

“Yeah,” you whisper, tears beginning to blur your eyes. “I think I do.”

DECEMBER 28th

Two days have passed since you last saw Yangyang.

That day before he left, Yangyang, feeling guilty for how events unfolded, wanted to give back the Playstation, but you insisted for him to keep it. In spite of everything, it was a Christmas gift to him from you and his parents.

But both of you weren’t sure if the shared custody promise was going to be held up.

In hopes that things would eventually get better and heal itself, Yangyang thought it’d be best to leave you alone for a while, like how he usually did.

And maybe he was right to do so, but this time is different.

Because he’s on the other end of the stick now; he’s the one who broke your heart.

Under regular circumstances, whenever you needed space, he was always ready to be there by your side.

But Yangyang’s uncertain if you’re going to let him comfort you this time.

And you’re uncertain if you even want him to.

DECEMBER 30th

Today, Yangyang finally makes the move to get in touch with you, texting you to call him, but you don’t, so he leaves a voicemail later in the evening.

“There’s a New Year’s party I’m going to tomorrow,” he starts off, then spews the specific details.

There’s a pause and you hear shuffling in the background. You assume he’s pacing around.

“I know you ended our agreement, but I wouldn’t mind fulfilling my end since New Year’s is the last day tomorrow. I’d be really glad if you came to the party with me, whether it be as my friend or my girlfriend.”

Another pause.

On the other end, Yangyang rubs his palm over his face, considering whether or not he should say it. If you picked up the phone call, he was going to do it anyway, but this just felt improper. He wants to say it when he knows you’re listening in real-time, so he ends off the message with:

“I miss you. So much.”

DECEMBER 31st

It’s 8:40PM. Before Yangyang buses out to the party, he’s back at your front door for one more shot. His fist taps at your door, cognizant that you wouldn’t be elsewhere since your other friends are out of town for the holidays. Despite that, you don’t come to the door. Nevertheless, he speaks to you through the wooden barrier.

“Hey, I know you want to be left alone, but I just wanted to see if you changed your mind about the party.”

Still no answer. He lets out a sigh and prays the following will incite a reaction from you.

“About the question that you asked me that night...”

He closes his eyes and allows his mouth to carry him.

“I do. I do love you. As both my best friend and more. I’m sorry if I hurt you that night by not saying anything, but I love you so much and I think we should give us a shot.”

Still no answer. Yangyang continues.

“Look, I know it’s scary and crazy to date your best friend. I’m scared too, but you know what? I’m okay with being scared. I’ve watched you gone through those assholes over the last few years and maybe you’re scared I’ll end up like one of them, but unlike them, I don’t think you’re horrible or needy or emotional—you’re beautiful, intelligent, and strong for putting up with all those fuckers.”

He leans his forehead gently against the door.

“And even if we ever do break up, and this is a big if because I’ll always try my hardest with you to make it work, I’ll still be your friend. I promise. You won’t lose me ‘cause I need you in my life. I gotta keep my end up for the custody of the Playstation, right?”

A smile breaks over his face from his joke, but still. Radio silence.

“Can you at least say something?” he begs.

After a few minutes, realizing he needs to probably give you more time to be left alone, he departs and heads to the party.

Originally, you actually were planning on attending the party to see Yangyang to make-up with him.

Unfortunately, out of all the days you had to take a late afternoon nap, it had to be today.

And you overslept. Big time.

At 10:55PM, you scramble awake, realizing you’re absolutely late to the event. Since the party’s downtown, you know calling an Uber or Lyft there would be fast, but tonight’s the worst night for any share riding service and there aren’t any available drivers. Thus, you have to manage with busing there.

It’s 11:40PM when you finally reach downtown, but the bus can’t take you all the way to the core centre where the party is; hordes of people are out on the streets and traffic is dreadful. God, you’re going to be cutting it close to midnight, but you make a run for it.

You’re grateful the party is on the second floor of a small building because you slide in right through the entrance at 11:58PM. You rush to call Yangyang’s phone, hoping he’ll pick up as you try to find him in the scattered groups of people.

You begin to holler for him in hopes he can hear you, but the countdown is happening, drowning out your voice. Thirty seconds left until the clock strikes for the new year.

When his number finally goes to voicemail, you redial his number. Suddenly, a hand grasps you by the wrist.

Yangyang looks at you, dumbfounded.

“When did you get here?”

The harmonious chanting around you floods your surroundings.

“Ten, nine, eight...”

Getting closer to him, you practically scream into Yangyang’s face, trusting he’ll hear what you’re about to say.

“I know Christmas is over, but I want to change my wish.”

“Seven, six, five...”

“I know you might not feel the same and I know things might not work out.”

“Four, three, two...”

”But I wish to date you past New Year’s until whenever, however long we last.”

“One...”

“I love you, Yangyang—”

The one you love snatches you by the waist and your cheek, stealing your lips at the last millisecond before midnight.

“Happy New Year!”

A wave of noisemakers, clappers, and hollering erupt around the room. After it dies down a bit, Yangyang shocks you with a scolding.

“Why didn’t you say anything when I came over?!”

Confusion rushes over you. You realize he probably came by when you were sleeping.

“You came over?!”

“Yeah, I confessed my love for you.”

“Wait,” you blink blankly, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Your love?”

“Yeah,” he nods, giving you his cheesy, adorable smile. “I love you.”

“As more than a friend?” you clarify.

“Babe,” Yangyang’s thumb caresses your cheek. “I don’t think I could ever go back to wanting less with you.”

Your lips tremble with relief as your gaze melts in his.

“And, anyway, who else am I going to share the Playstation with?”

“Well, I mean, you do have Hendery, Xiaojun, Winwin...” you start to count his infinite list of friends on your fingers.

“Yeah, but I need you so I can constantly beat your cute little butt at games.”

“You do not constantly beat my cute little butt at games, I’ll have you know that I beat you at—”

Yangyang shuts you up with another kiss, the one of many for the rest of the night.

JANUARY 2nd

It’s your second morning at Yangyang’s place. You’ve only done it a few times now, but you realize that waking up in his arms is one of the greatest feelings in the world, second only to his kisses.

In his bed, spooning you from behind, he grumbles into the nape of your neck, “Morning, girlfriend.”

Half-awake, you mumble back, “Morning, boyfriend,” and sink deeper into the curve of his body.

Content, you finally broke your string of cursed holiday break-ups for good.

And all it took was to be with the one who was in front of you all this time.

2K notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 3 years

Note

Many sad thoughts running through my head but I can imagine Dabi having trust issues as you and the other anon saying. Him being afraid of getting left behind. I feel like he would say “I didn’t mean to say I love you” at some point because that’s a type of vulnerable he doesn’t want to be but it’s just one of many thoughts

AHHHHHHHH anon anon why must u hurt me like this?????? pls my whole heart just broke at this and i uhhhhh wrote 1.7k words about it,,,

❅ cw: soft dabi, angst, rly sappy ❅

It seems to happen at the most random of times. It isn’t like the movies, isn’t ever after some profound incident or momentous occurrence shared between the two of you—no, it’s always right after the most mundane things; after he catches you brushing your teeth in a cute matching set of panties and a tank top, sticking out your tongue at him, mouth full of foamy white toothpaste; after he finds you curled up on the couch buried under a fluffy blanket, nothing more than a lump and a head as your eyes rapidly scan the pages of the book in front of you, entirely absorbed in whatever world it’s built for you; after he walks into the kitchen to see you by the sink washing a few dishes, hips swaying and head nodding as you hum along to whatever song is blasting through your headphones.

But God, does it hit him like a motherfucking bus every single time, punches him in the stomach without warning, knocks the breath straight out of him.

He’s usually good at keeping it to himself, usually able to swallow it back down when those three little words begin to creep up his throat, dancing on the back of his tongue and restricting his breathing.

But eventually, he messes up.

You had started it, right after you had finished sprinkling the pizza stone with some flour while he was rolling out the dough, wiping your powdery fingers down his t-shirt, then swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, leaving a streak of white flour painted in its path, a little mischievous smile on your face and glint in your eyes.

He retaliates immediately, grabbing a pinch of flour from the bag and flicking it right in your face.

“Dabi!” you gasp, but your shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as you wipe at your face, fingers only managing to leave more strokes of the substance instead of clearing it. Your hand dives into the bag, grasping a handful of flour, inhaling deeply—enough to expand your entire chest—before blowing air out of your mouth, casting tiny, thick explosions of white at him, speckling his shirt and dusting his inky hair.

“Oh, you little brat,”

And, fuck, you look so goddamn beautiful, giggles ringing out around the room, flour strewn in your messy, tousled hair, smears of it across your cheeks and neck, sprinkled on your clothes, eyes bright and breathing laboured with exhilaration as you daintily leap away from him.

They’re bubbling up in his chest, those three stupid little words, climbing up, up, up his throat to settle on his tongue, light and sweet, floating in his mouth like candy floss and melting on his tongue only to be resurrected by another one of your giggles, or playful yelps, or squeals of his name.

And he’s too preoccupied to remember to swallow them down, to chew and chomp on them until he’s crushed them into a thousand tiny pieces as he chases you around the kitchen while you throw clouds of flour at each other, too enraptured by the soft, cute, precious sounds he’s endlessly pulling from you, too hellbent on hearing more, a man possessed.

Because he hasn’t laughed like this in ages, isn’t sure he’s ever laughed like this in his entire life, and they just slip out, when he finally catches you, chest heaving a bit from the thrill of it all as large hands curl around your shoulders.

“God, I love you,”

They’re muttered softly, just a huff of breath, really, blanketed by his laughs and yours, and you nearly miss them.

Nearly.

And then, everything stops. Your laughs abruptly cut off, and he wishes he’d have missed the sharp intake of breath you inhale through your mouth, lips parted slightly, wide eyes staring at him as your body freezes up, going rigid in his grasp, feet fused to the floor.

He stops, too, lets go of you so quickly you’d think your skin burnt his palms through the thin material of your shirt, sapphire eyes growing wide—wider than you’ve ever seen them before—as his mind catches up with his mouth, stumbling a few steps back from you.

He wants to say something, anything, but his voice is caught in his chest, fading into pathetic squeaks of breath any time he tries to force a few words out. And it aches, heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage, breathing shallow—almost ceased completely—as he stares unblinking at you, sharp, tingling anxiety flooding his veins.

And you—well, you’re staring at him with this look in your eyes, something that he can’t decipher, and it makes his stomach lurch. It’s a look he’s never seen before, your eyes shining as you gaze at him, almost glittering as you stare at him, unmoving, unbreathing, unexplainable. Are you upset? Angry? Disgusted? Stunned? A combination of all four? None at all?

The fact that he can’t tell, that he doesn’t know, when he prides himself on being able to read others so insanely well, ignites flames of anger that alight his entire body, right to the tips of his fingers and his toes, blazing straight through the anxiety and simmering in his chest, eyes hardening as they glare back at you.

A beat passes, your ears ringing from the thick, tense silence draped over the room, and then he’s pushing past you roughly with a choked snarl that sounds a little like a mix between a sob and a growl, and storming out of the kitchen.

He’s cut off all communication entirely, has been ignoring you for a few days now, only leaving his bedroom out of absolute necessity and refusing to answer any of your countless texts that have been collecting on his lockscreen, refusing to even touch his phone. He doesn’t want to see what you have to say, desperately tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care, that he isn’t scared of what your messages might reveal, isn’t terrified of that impending rejection he’s so sure is lurking on the horizon.

But there’s only so long he can keep avoiding you before you finally catch him in the kitchen, just past three in the morning, fixing himself a late-night snack.

“Oh, thank God,”

He whirls around at the sound of your voice, cobalt eyes gaping for a moment before narrowing into sharp slits an instant later.

“Dabi, listen—”

“No,” he growls, eyes flashing. “You listen, I don’t want to fucking talk about it, alright?”

Leaping in front of him, you block his path, prohibiting him from leaving the kitchen and speaking quickly. “Yeah? Well I do!”

“I don’t care,” he spits viciously, the ache throbbing deep in his chest—at the very core of his body—reminding him otherwise. “There’s nothing to talk about, anyway! It’s not like I meant them,”

And that—that gets you to stop, tripping a little over your own feet as you stumble back like he’s physically slapped you, a soft, hurt little whimper getting caught in the back of your throat as tears rapidly pool in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Wh-What?”

He glares down at you, molars grinding together as his nose twitches.

I didn’t mean to say I love you.

What a pathetic fucking sentence—it’s almost laughable, the corners of his lips quirking up in a sardonic little grin. Your breath hitches, and his shoulders tense at the sound.

‘You aren’t supposed to know I love you’ is much more accurate, his mind sneers at him. Coward. Fucking coward.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says, though his voice is beginning to quiver, trembling hands curling into tight fists in an effort to stop it, short nails biting into the flesh of his palm as the skin stretched taut over his knuckles turns bone white.

“Didn’t mean what?” you whisper, glistening tears finally spilling over and streaming down your cheeks, leaving gleaming trails of salt water behind them. “Say it, Dabi,”

He’s got his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head, knows if he opens them, if he looks at you, that he’ll break, shatter into a thousand pieces, split himself open at the very core of his body and bare his entire soul to you.

“Look at me,” you demand softly.

His jaw flexes once, slowly exhaling out his nose.

“Dabi, look at me,” a pause. “Please?”

“No.”

“W-Why?” the word escapes your lips in a little whine, broken up by your sniffles.

You know why.

But it’s those little half-sobs, the ones that keep catching painfully in your chest, that do it, interspersed with your soft whimpers as you plead with him—please, open your eyes, just look at me for a second, please!

Unable to stand it any longer, his lids finally rise, slowly revealing sparkling sapphire, glowering at you, his harsh gaze protected by a thin shield of water.

He hates this, hates not having control over his own fucking body, over his own fucking thoughts, hates the unfamiliarity of it all, of the unpleasant fluttering in his stomach and burning in his throat, swallowing thickly past the hard lump that’s formed, constricting his breathing.

Revolting, his inner voice snarls at him. You’re weak, letting some stupid little girl get to you like this, as if you even—

Your touch silences the voice, cutting it off midsentence, his whole body flinching at the soft, small hand resting so tenderly against the curve of his face, subconsciously nuzzling his cheek into your palm a second later, eyes slipping shut again.

“Dabi,” you begin, and something has changed. You no longer sound hurt, no longer sound wounded, your voice gentle and—

No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening to him right now. Panic grips his heart, puncturing it with its claws, sending blistering, sharp pain searing through his chest and slicing him open, raw and vulnerable.

“Please, don’t,” he whispers, words tumbling from his lips without his permission, voice frail, fragile, broken.

Don’t. He doesn’t want to hear them, doesn’t need to hear them, can’t bear to hear them—not if they’re false, fake, uttered out of misplaced pity and sympathy.

“I love you, too,”

A pathetic hiccup gets caught in his throat and he chokes on it, chest stuttering as he shakes his head, lids clenching tightly against the unfamiliar sting of tears, lips pressed together firmly to stifle the tiny distressed sounds that keep crawling up his throat, trying to escape.

There’s no way, she’s lying, how could she ever—

“Yes,” you whisper, thumb caressing his jaw. “I love you, too,”

#dabi x reader #dabi #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #dabi angst #dabi fluff #???? just BARELY #TW SOFT DABI #AHHHHHH anon i am screaming endlessly into the void #sweet anon 🥺#clari gets mail

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percabethfeelsfandom · 3 years

Text

Writing Prompt AU: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

PART 2: Age 9

Annabeth’s laugh cuts through the air as she runs away from Percy’s outstretched arms.

“You can’t catch me Seaweed Brain! I’m too fast for you,” she screeches as she winds between other students in the playground and the play equipment.

“I’m never going to stop chasing you,” he calls back, but he’s laughing as well which is detrimental to his speed.

He can hear Grover cheering him on, mixed with Thalia’s cries at Annabeth to run faster, faster. Percy’s legs burn with exertion but he keeps going, keeping his eyes firmly trained on Annabeth’s bright hair as she runs further and further away from him.

Another voice joins the two and Percy feels his feet stutter.

“Come on Annabeth, you can beat him!” Luke shouts. Annabeth turns back for a moment, giving a wide smile to their new friend who moved to their school at the beginning of this year. Percy uses this to try and gain some ground on her, but she’s still just out of his reach.

She ducks below a low hanging branch laughs as leaves catch Percy in the face.

He pauses, catching his breath and tries to not get annoyed when Luke’s laughter joins Annabeth’s in teasing him.

“Come on Seaweed Brain. You should be able to catch her, she’s just a girl,” Luke says and clamps a firm hand on Percy’s shoulder. He shrugs it off and looks around the playground for Annabeth’s familiar golden head.

“Thalia and Annabeth are both faster than you,” Grover points out and Percy holds back a laugh while trying to catch his breath when Luke’s face goes pink.

“Shut up Grover,” he answers and gives Grover a light push. Percy rolls his eyes and finally catches sight of Annabeth at the edge of his vision.

He takes off again without saying anything to either of his friends and manages to get within a couple of feet of Annabeth before she sees him coming and disappears again into the crowd.

She has a knack for becoming practically invisible during hide-and-seek tips, and Percy secretly hates when he’s it and has to go against her.

Regardless, he pushes forward until his lungs are heaving. He leans against a brick wall and looks around, he knows she’s close, but he can’t see her, it’s like she’s disappeared into thin air. Fighting back an annoyed sigh he sits himself down and closes his eyes to rest.

“Okay Annabeth you win, I’m tired. I give up.” He says, raising his voice so he can be heard amongst the other students playing around them. No one pays him any attention but he sees movement in the corner of his eyes and watches as Annabeth jumps from a low branch of a tree. He rolls his eyes at her hiding spot and watches as she slowly claps while she walks to him.

He closes his eyes as he rests, not wanting to see her smug smile, but he hears when Annabeth joins him in sitting down.

“One of these days you’ll catch me, don’t worry,” she reassures him, with a soft nudge against his shoulder.

“One day,” he replies with a smile. He can’t stay annoyed with her for too long. She’s his best friend after all (after Grover of course).

“Just not today.”

Percy laughs and leans his head on her shoulder as they watch other students play in the playground. He expects her to push him off but she doesn’t and he stays there for a moment, finding comfort in her existence. He’s still catching his breath, but Annabeth seems hardly puffed out. “I can let you catch me tomorrow so that Luke stops laughing at you,” Annabeth says softly.

Percy scoffs and turns to her, suddenly feeling a bit more serious.

“No, that’s not fair on you. Luke is dumb. He doesn’t think girls can run fast, but you’re one of the fastest in the grade. It’s okay. I’ll be faster one day.”

Annabeth smiles and turns away, but Percy sees the blush before she does and the sight makes him blush as well. He sits up straighter so that he isn’t leaning against her anymore, suddenly embarrassed.

“Unless of course, you don’t think I can catch you.” He tells her with a teasing tone.

This time she’s the one that’s scoffing.

“Whatever Seaweed Brain, come on, they’re probably looking for us.” She says and stands up, holding out a hand to him. He grabs it and lets her haul him to his feet. His legs are like jelly and he wobbles a bit when he stands, but she catches his arm before he falls. He gives her a smile in thanks and shakes himself a bit to reawaken his limbs.

“Please stop calling me that,” he asks and she shakes her head, a wide smile on her face.

“Hmm, I think not. It’s very fitting for you.”

“It happened one time, and it was an accident,” he complains and she laughs, walking backward as they talk. Seaweed Brain is a nickname she gave to him the first time they went to the beach together. He had ducked under a wave and come up with a head full of seaweed. It had been funny that day and they hadn’t been able to stop laughing, but three years later, the nickname had stuck.

“It’s funny, Percy.”

“Not when everyone else does it. They don’t know why it’s funny,” he argues. He doesn’t mind when Annabeth does it, weirdly enough, but he gets a bit of an upset stomach when he hears other people like Luke calling him it. Even Nancy has caught wind of the name and calls him that when Annabeth and his other friends aren’t around. Percy isn’t scared of her anymore though because Nancy doesn’t have any friends to hide behind and Percy’s mom has taught him that people who hurt other people only do it because they’re sad. Which means Nancy is very sad. So Percy leaves her alone.

Annabeth shrugs.

“Then I’ll tell them off if it happens again, okay? Only I can call you that. It’s my special name for you. Agreed?”

Percy thinks about it for a moment. He can live with that.

“Agreed.”

They find their way back to their friends who are setting up a new game of hide-and-seek tag.

“Not it!” He shouts as soon as they’re within earshot and Annabeth startles a bit next to him before echoing his words. Grover does the same, then Thalia.

Leaving Luke frowning.

“But I don’t want to be it.”

“That’s the rules Luke, you’re it. Go count,” Thalia says with a shrug. She begins to jog backward, leaving the others, her spikey black hair disappearing moments later.

“Sorry Luke,” Annabeth says softly and gives Luke an apologetic smile before following Thalia’s lead.

Grover and Percy are right behind them, Luke’s voice counting down from 100 lost in the wind of other voices.

Percy is out of breath again as he hides behind a bush. Luke has for some reason chosen him to be his target for this round, which isn’t really fair since Percy just spent the entire last round chasing Annabeth around the entire school, but Luke isn’t listening to him and it’s getting on Percy’s nerves just a little bit.

He can hear Luke’s voice calling out to him, taunting him as Percy hears his footsteps pass, but he holds his breath as if that will help hide him better.

“Psst Percy!”

He looks around wildly and catches sight of Annabeth at the top of the stairs. She beckons him closer and he looks cautiously out from the bush. She notices and shakes her head, urging him to be quicker.

“It’s clear I promise. He’s looking for Grover. Come on hurry.”

Percy takes her for her word and darts off in her direction. As he’s getting closer to her he hears footsteps follow him and watches as her eyes widen in a panic.

“Percy run!”

He turns back briefly and adrenaline fills his body as he sees Luke catching up to him.

Annabeth has started running as well, and Percy trails after her, but he’s not as nimble and quick, accidentally bumping into students as he runs. He jumps over an upturned trashcan and whoops as it slows Luke down. Annabeth leads the way back to the play equipment and makes a leap onto it.

“Is he still following me?” He calls to Annabeth as she climbs the monkey bars for a higher vantage point. He starts slowing down as she looks around.

“I don’t know, I can’t see him.”

There’s a loud cackle and Percy feels his body get tackled to the ground. Sharp pain shoots up and down his arm as it’s pinned to the ground and he cries out as he feels a crack.

For a moment everything is simultaneously too bright and too dark.

“Percy!” Annabeth’s voice cuts through the pain and he blinks, trying to regain his vision but black and white spots are still floating behind his eyelids.

“Luke, why did you push him so hard!”

Luke’s voice is panicked and high-pitched as he stands over Percy, casting a dark shadow over him, “I didn’t, he just wasn’t looking. It’s not my fault...He was just, he just stopped out of nowhere, he was going too slow.”

Percy groans and tries to sit up, but his arm is screaming at him, and he doesn’t want to look down because it feels wrong. He turns his face the other way, away from the sore arm and he meets Annabeth’s eyes briefly, but she gets back up and gestures wildly at Percy then at Luke.

“Oh my gods, Percy, your arm. Luke, get a teacher!” Annabeth’s voice is rising in panic and though he still can’t see clearly he can feel her join him on the ground and she cradles his head in her lap.

“Come on it’s not that- oh ew,” Luke says, with a tone of disgust. Percy squeezes his eyes tightly so that the tears don’t fall and he hears Luke’s footsteps quickly retreat and leave them.

Other voices start coming closer but all he can hear is Annabeth.

“It’s gonna be okay, Percy. You’re okay, Percy. I promise. I’m here.”

He feels a small hand grip his good arm, and he peeks open one eye.

“I’m okay,” he tries to say, but he shifts and accidentally moves his arm, sending another wave of pain down his body.

“Don’t you dare move.” Annabeth sees the wince and hushes him, commanding him to stay still.

“But-”

“If you move, you’re not my best friend anymore.”

Percy freezes every single bone in his body and holds his breath as Annabeth inspects him, carefully arranging his limbs so he can be comfortable. It doesn’t work, but he manages to feel some sort of gratitude towards her for trying. He can tell she’s scared. He knows because they’re best friends and he knows Annabeth as good as he knows himself. Her hands are shaking and she keeps blinking because she’s trying not to cry. Percy wants to reach out to her, but he holds himself to his promise not to move.

Moments later Luke arrives with a teacher in tow.

“He tripped and fell…” He can hear Luke saying.

“That’s not what happened,” Annabeth says with a frown, and gets up, leaving Percy.

Their voices start to quiet as Percy feels himself get lightheaded. Footsteps come closer to him again and hands grip his shoulders, nudging him lightly.

“Percy! Breathe! You can move, you can move,” Annabeth cries, her eyes wide and bright with fear. “You idiot, why did you hold your breath.” Percy tries to laugh, but it kind of hurts so he gives a half shrug, and takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs with much-needed air.

“I didn’t want to move. I still want to be your best friend,” he admits truthfully. Annabeth laughs, but it comes out sort of like a cry and she wipes at her eyes and pats his head softly like she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

“You’re so dumb. You’re always going to be my best friend, Seaweed Brain. Come on, stay awake, the ambulance is coming.”

She doesn’t move from her spot by her side the entire time. Not when Thalia and Grover come to see why Luke hasn’t found them. Not when the teachers tell them that the ambulance is on their way. Not when Percy’s Mom, Sally, is called and is told to meet them at the hospital. Not even when the ambulance arrives, but when a teacher comes and softly tugs her away from him, her hand finally leaves his.

Percy has never been to the hospital alone before and the fear sets in as they’re pulling him onto the stretcher and telling them where he’s headed. He starts crying for his friends. Screaming at them not to leave them. Grover is crying into Thalia’s arms, scared and overwhelmed at the loud sounds of the sirens but Annabeth is screaming back, begging the teachers to let her go as they hold her back.

Mr Brunner, Percy’s favourite teacher joins him in the ambulance and reassures him that Annabeth will be able to visit once he’s at the hospital, but that doesn’t ease his anxieties until he sees his mother waiting for him when he reopens his eyes at the hospital.

The sight of her brings an immediate calm to his body, and he feels his bones relax. They take x-rays of his arm and put him in a cast, telling him that he’ll be in it for a couple of months. He’s still shaking with pain and shock but his Mom brushes his hair out of his face and softly hums him to sleep until his eyes close again and he falls into a dreamless sleep.

When he reawakens there are multiple people in his room. The first he sees is his mother still at his side, biting her thumb as she watches him wake. The next is the face of his disgruntled step-father Gabe, who leaves the room once he sees his eyes open.

And then his friends.

Grover. Thalia. Luke.

And-

“Percy!” Annabeth throws her arms around Percy before he’s even fully awake and he gasps in surprise before returning the hug and pushing his face into her shoulder.

“You scared me,” she whispers, so quiet he can barely hear her.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says back, equally as quiet.

She finally pulls back and sits back on the bed.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.”

He manages a smile and nods.

“Me too.”

His other friends join him on the bed, and poke at his cast, asking him questions about it and the ride in the ambulance. They talk well into the night, and even though it’s late and the sky is dark, their parents let them all stay, keeping Percy company until visiting hours end.

Before his friends leave, the doctor comes in and hands Percy a pen.

“Do you want your friends to sign your cast before they go?”

Percy nods enthusiastically and they all take turns writing something on his cast before waving him goodbye.

Grover draws an assortment of plants and flowers. Thalia draws a wide smiley face and Luke writes luke was here. He rolls his eyes at the silly drawings and their names on the cast before handing it to Annabeth who is the last one left.

She carefully takes the pen from Percy and holds his arm carefully, before writing.

I hope you get better soon, love annabeth (your best friend)

(PART 1)

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