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clarks-letterman · 4 months

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I think I might've cracked the pajama pant code ™: it's around the holiday season & Wally invites his teammates for a ~guys only sleepover~ but because it's so close to Christmas (which Wally doesn't celebrate, to incorporate Milo being Jewish), nobody else but the reader shows up as a result of having a deep crush on Wally. When the reader arrives, Wally is already wearing those pants (school colors, of course) & the reader can clearly tell nothing else underneath them. The reader tries to brush that aside and the extremely intimate touches from Wally throughout the night while trying to distract him from how much of a bust the ~sleepover~ was, but one thing naturally leads to another when the night winds down & Wally asks the reader to sleep next to him.

the pj pants code™ | wally clark x male!reader

a/n — i want to preface this by saying i am not jewish, and while I did research and made sure to give what i thought was an accurate representation, please let me know if any of what i have depicted is innacurate or offensive. thanks! went light on the smut because i enjoyed writing the build up and having that as the focus more, anon!

summary — check the ask!

warnings — light smut at the end, angst and fluff

words — 7k (i yapped a lot in this one.)

~~~

Wally Clark couldn’t stand December. Sometimes, he literally couldn’t stand it. The snow and ice created a deadly walk to his car in the early mornings and he had his fair share of slips and slides down the path leading to it. Then he had to pray that his rear-wheel drive and manual stick shift didn’t create a nasty combination on the roads, and when he finally made it to school, he parked his car along a line of many others just like his—boxy, dynamically pointed. The same spot, always open, and always so far away from the school itself. Sure, it was right behind the building, but he hated stepping into the cold air after finding comfort in the heated enclosure of his black Chevrolet Bel-Air. The school air wasn’t much better once he was finally inside the building, feeling stale yet fresh with frustration and fatigue from everyone around him. It was a mood he actively contributed to during this time of the year.

He was able to blend in—in so many ways, but December was the one month where he felt anything but normal during it. He started the month feeling different. Everyone complained about the holiday jingles plaguing the radio, and subsequently, their boomboxes and home stereos housing more than half a dozen stations for it, but it didn’t pertain to Wally, so he never really gave an opinion on it. The only holiday songs he ever heard were sung dissonantly by his family for eight nights in a row—there was a reason he was the only Clark in the house to take choir. Then the first half of the month was a slog to get through, having to juggle school and football championships after endless classes and traditions upon returning home. Then, before he knew it, the cycle started all over again the next day. The second half of the month felt a bit better but worse at the same time. Winter break wasn’t filled with the hectic Christmas holiday like so many of his other peers had to endure, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something every year. Thankfully, at the end of the month, he got to slide right back into the crowd on New Year’s Eve. His friends could expect the same old pair of Nike’s falling into the same old spot he took up at their house, watching the ball drop on the television without anyone to kiss when the year reset.

That’s why he tried to host a sleepover the first night of break—and, coincidentally for him, the last night of Hanukah. Little was left of the holiday, and his parents were out of town for work, so his plate seemed pretty light. “No girls,” his parents said. It was their only restriction besides the usual anti-partying and drugs lecture they gave before they left. Wally wasn’t complaining about that one bit. There was only one guy he wanted to actually see at his sleepover, but he had to be smart about it. He couldn’t invite just one guy, especially if he turned out to not show. He cared about his other teammates, so he decided to invite everyone on the team as they had made it through the entire football season with more wins than losses—that was his alibi.

You were the last one to hear about his sleepover, mostly because you had one class with him in the morning and only saw him in after-school activities like the weight room and the athletics club. The morning class had a test right before the break, and the extracurriculars officially wrapped up last week in preparation for the week or so in which you wouldn’t see each other. That meant that he had to catch you in passing, and he always saw you on the way to his last class.

He called your name along with a quick, stopping you in the hall, “Hey!”

You turned and smiled once you realized it was him who had pulled your attention. He continued as you got closer to each other, “I’m having a sleepover hangout type of thing. That makes it sound a lot lamer than it actually is. Trust me, it’ll be super fun. Exclusive, and you’re on the list.”

“And I’m invited because?” You asked, already knowing that you would eventually give him a “yes, I’ll be there.” Eventually. You wanted to get a rise out of him first, to know that he was inviting you for the reasons you thought he was.

“Because you…” Wally trailed, pursing his lips and looking off to your left as he searched for the words in passerby’s face. He couldn’t look at yours because he’d say something dumb. By looking anywhere else, he had a fighting chance to make it out of the conversation alive. “…you’re part of the team, duh. Everyone will be there.”

“I’m the safety. I basically do nothing all match.” You continued, “The coach benches me during workouts, dude.”

“That’s not true, you’re good when we’re balls deep!” Wally heard himself and corrected it, fast. “Deep balls and goals—I mean. How many goals have you stopped?”

“Like, two? One, probably.” You averted his gaze, knowing that it would break any semblance of doubt you expressed. He was always good at clearing the moody air, and this time was no different.

He reassured, “Just one time is enough.”

“Someone was listening at the ‘Just Say No’ assembly.” You laughed, remembering how you were caught up in staring at the boy a row down from you during the assembly. They had grouped all of the footballers together, touting you to the other students by showing that success can happen without drugs. But you definitely weren’t bothered enough to listen, hooked on the rush of the boy in front of you. “Yeah, I’ll be there.”

He did a quick notion of victory, clenching his fist and pumping his towards himself. “I knew you’d say yes! Okay, my house, tonight. Don’t miss it.”

Wally walked away with a giddy gallop in his step, as if he was about to jump up and click his heels together. He didn’t, but in his mind, he was happily trotting down the hall to his last class. The bounce in his step was nonexistent yet entirely palpable as the soles of his worn-out Nike’s felt like a freshly puffed cloud. Unsalvageable, the night was not.

Only a few hours went by before you found yourself about to reunite with Wally for the second time today, You didn’t count second period because of the test, but this would make up for the lost time you would have gotten to spend goofing off with him in that class. Unfortunately, several teachers decided to rain hell on you and assign homework that would all be due the day you got back, so you had to clear that out of the way first. You hoped that it hadn’t sucked up too much of the night, since you pulled into Wally’s driveway around eight. It was a bad sign that his car was the only one there, a fact now untrue thanks to your hunk of junk coming to a halt next to his. You put it in park, grabbed your bag from the passenger seat, and started your ascent up the small path leading to his front door.

You couldn’t help but notice the lack of decorations along his front lawn. His parents seemed well off, having a decently sized garage attached to their already big house. You couldn’t imagine the square footage without the garage, it must have been over a couple thousand. The bottom half of his house was covered in red brick, looking darker in the moonlight, and the second story was a calming shade of light blue. The windows were nothing special, ordinary but you were sure that they gave insight into something deeper within the house. All of them were empty and dark, except for the one next to his front door. It had a menorah inside that looked indiscernible from the road, that’s why you didn’t see it initially. Each of the branches had a candle in it and were illuminated. The curtain was pulled back to prevent a fire, but it gave you a brief glimpse into the Clark household. It looked empty, and no noise could be heard from your position outside of the house. Was anyone home?

If it was just you and Wally, maybe this would be the night. The night where everything would finally make sense. For the entirety of your senior year, Wally and you just felt different. There was no explanation for it, you had known him since the seventh grade, when you joined the football team, yet this year had been such a turning point for you and him. You hung out with him several times and went to drive-in movie theaters and found the fun in mundane gas stations, where life is supposed to feel boring. Wally made everything feel okay, at the very least. He made them tolerable, and he even had a force to pull you to his house on the twenty-first of December. The answer to a question burning in your mind could come tonight—did he like you back? You decided to stomach any reluctance and knock. A figure moved past the window, causing each flame to move with it. Then, the door opened.

“Ready to go to bed already?” You asked, looking him up and down. He was in a white tee shirt, blue and white pajama pants, and a pair of white socks. It was so lazy yet carefully reminded you of your history. The blue and white linens alluded to the school’s color scheme, probably something he bought as one of those athlete packages that bundle pairs of sweatpants and exercise gear together. They looked nice on him, loosely swinging from his legs and tightening to fit his narrow hips near the top. His shirt was crisp, unwrinkled, and a perfect blank canvas. Food and dirt had yet to splatter over it in his moments of action, yet it looked like it was small enough to make his movements more revealing. The hem of his shirt just barely covered the waistband of his pants. All of it was tied together with his golden necklace lying over his shirt.

“Being the life of the party by myself is tiring.” He said, acting as if no one else showing up was normal. He didn’t notice your prolonged stare, too happy that you actually showed up. “If only some other people were here to help me out.”

Wally moved to the side to let you in, and you really got to scope out the place. You two were the only beating hearts in there. Aside from the red blood keeping the both of you warm and present, his house was made of cool tones—blue curtains flowing down the length of his windows to block anyone out and a white shag rug filling most of his living room, from what you could immediately see. In front of the door were the stairs leading to the second floor, and to the right was his living room—the menorah finding itself tucked away in the windowsill of that room. On the left looked to be a dining room, but you couldn’t be completely sure, the obscured shape of a table leg and one chair led you to believe there was more to it. The back wall of the living room had a rectangular hole cut out of it, a white stove in view. Everything looked as it was, and Wally seemed to have spent the first night of holiday break lounging on his white couch with brown hairline stripes running along the upholstery and cushions. An Atari rested on the short brown coffee table in front of it alongside some cartridges, cables running to the television set, where more games were stacked inside of the surrounding cabinets. Yeah, he had definitely spent his afternoon alone.

“It’s the holiday. That’s why no one came.” You weren’t about to say something about his optimism. He planned this event with sincerity, so you treated it the same. Nothing about how he had planned a sleepover with only dudes, and how you could easily remark that “this was something only eighth-grade girls do.” Nope, you weren’t going to point that out, no matter how much you wanted to poke fun at him. But you did offer a bit of light to the situation, “Just one guest is enough for a sleepover, anyways.”

You turned to flash him a sign of sympathy, but you noticed that Wally had occupied himself with fixing the blue tinsel lining the inner side of the doorframe. With his hands up high and his shoulders carrying his shirt with them, it revealed his torso. You couldn't tell if the lack of a brief line, something indicated whether or not he wore anything under those loose linens, was because of how baggy they were or because he wasn't wearing anything underneath. He provided the answer to your question almost a second later by reaching higher than he should be in a shirt that small. His shirt rode up and nothing was there, no waistband leading to his boxers peeking out from underneath. Nothing. His pants clung tightly to his waist in the same way that your own eyes wouldn’t leave them.

“There.” Wally boasted. “Now we can get the party started.”

“Yeah, totally. Uh, what did you have in mind?”

He circled back around to you, “Video games, all-nighter, alone time?”

“So I packed pajamas for nothing?” Your bag started to feel heavy in your hand with the weight of pointlessness. Wally was quick to reassure you.

“No, no, no. They’re the entrance fee for this party. The bathroom’s right up the stairs and to the left.” He had placed his hand around your shoulders as he neared you, making sure that the directions he gave with his other hand were clear enough for you to follow. He couldn’t help but think about how he was already giving you directions to go deeper into his house. You didn’t want to leave, you actually made an effort to show up—and stuck with the theme! This was his chance to tip the first domino in his favor, closing in on the gap between his mouth and your ear. Whispering, he lets out, “And… my room’s right next door if you’d feel more comfortable in there.”

Wally didn’t make you say your choice out loud, so you shot him a quick “thanks” and parted ways from his closeness to get changed. Going up the carpeted stairs, you were greeted with the choice of two doors; both on the left side of the hall, the one closest to you was the bathroom door, shut but completely blank compared to the door a few feet past it—the door to Wally’s room, decorated with adorned with several posters about football and famous musicians you had seen the CDs for in his car. Your feet dragged themselves across the carpet, taking the extra steps to reach his bedroom and turning the handle of the door with care. It was less shiny, the gold finish rubbing off to reveal the copper handle underneath. Wally was prone to having his door shut more often, you figured. Pushing the door open slowly, you let yourself take in the room in quick glimpses as more of it was revealed to you.

The color coordination was nonexistent as everything clashed with itself. It doesn’t feel like something curated, but lived in. It doesn’t have the smell of a department store, it has the smell of a week-old jock in the laundry basket and hastily sprayed cologne to cover the scent. It reminded you of a night where the same smell filled the air of a locker room at an away game. You were sitting on the same bench as him in the same locker dwelling, alone. He was in just his jersey because he needed a second to breathe. Something was tugging at him, making it impossible to finish the night off in his regular clothes. That’s where Wally admitted that he didn’t know where to apply to college to take advantage of his skills, mostly because he didn’t care enough. “My parents will figure it out,” he said. At the time, it sounded like a lazy excuse, but his room proved it to be a surrender in the pursuit of who he wanted to be. Posters plastered themselves on the wall in clusters just like on the outside of his bedroom door. The densest area of the room was right above his bed, filled with drawings to partially cover the posters of famous athletes. At least his bed was an escape from the mess he had to wake up to everyday, the linens on it likely made for the first time in weeks upon your arrival. Blue sheets, like he was caught in an ocean of thought with a grey comforter being his raft to shore. Next to the bed, on the floor, were several sleeping bags strewn out with less care than he had given to his bed. And by the time you got to the last sleeping bag arranged on the floor, your eyes landed on his dresser—painted white but made of brown wood as the paint had chipped around its stubby legs. There were a few windows filling the room, the curtains were closed to stop anyone from peering into the second-story room and getting a view of you changing. While you stripped down to the essentials, you looked around. The rest was all standard stuff you had, a desk with his letterman hanging off the back of the chair slid into it, a smaller television than the one downstairs, and some other random trinkets from vacations and whatnot.

Then, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the full-body mirror hanging on the back of his door. Exposed in Wally’s room without his watchful eye to catch all the things you wanted to show him, but never could. You wanted to give yourself to him, but what if it was a joke? What if he didn’t invite anyone else? The worst question you kept asking yourself was, what would happen if this was real? If it was all fake, you could forget about it—forget about him. But if it was real, you would have to come to terms that things would be different after this one night. After that one move that will finally seal everything inside a neat little letter, addressed to you either way but the contents remained uncertain. As far as you were concerned, the letter was still being written. Maybe you both had a hand in writing something on it, just like how you two drew on each other’s papers in class when you were bored or found the lecture to be unimportant.

Heading back downstairs with a new layer of comfy clothes on, Wally greeted you with a pen and paper in his hand. He was in the middle of scribbling down his order while holding the paper against the wall, pen haphazardly flying through each line on the small sheet. “Perfect timing, I figured that we could order pizza and then do stuff while we wait.”

“What about the others?” Your mind went back to the numerous silky sleeping bags contrasting against his carpet. No one would be filling them tonight, and you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the thought of it.

“Let’s face it—they’re not coming!” He stated almost happily. Deep down, Wally hoped that others might stop by and show their faces for a few minutes at the very minimum.

You conceded, “I mean if you’re fine with us having some alone time over pizza… then I’m not going to complain.”

Wally finished writing down his order and peeled the paper from the wall, handing it over to you along with the pen in one pass. You took it, filling out the lines neatly. His writing was scrambled, but if he could read the chicken scratch that was his own handwriting, he could surely read yours. You saved yourself the pain of reading his order, hoping that he didn’t go for something gross like sardines and pineapple. His mouth would have to be kept far, far away from you if that were the case.

To pass the time after he phoned in the order, Wally suggested that you return to his Atari, still paused on what looked to be an intense game of Space Invaders. The pizza place claimed that they would be over an hour, so this was the perfect time to just enjoy his presence and forget about everything else. He plopped himself down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the small table. While you were upstairs changing, he took the liberty of connecting a second controller to the gaming system, abandoning his current progress on a level he worked so hard to get to. The game booted up, flickering on the screen in a harsh quality, but the graphics were so advanced. Your character—the spaceship that looked identical to Wally’s aside from the tip of it having a different color than his—appeared on the screen. Both of you could move around on the bottom to shoot enemies at the top. Only a few matches in, and you were raking in more points than Wally had as he chose the ‘Endless Shooter’ mode to make it more competitive. When he felt like a sore loser, he dropped the occasional comment that you “know how to use a joystick so well because you’re always handling something so long and hard.”

With his teasing and tense competition, the two of you almost missed the doorbell ringing. On what was probably followed by an annoyed sigh as the delivery guy rang his doorbell for the third time, Wally finally shot up to get the door. His exchange with the pizza guy was quick, the money disappearing from his hands in seconds and being replaced by two large pizza boxes. Each pizza was half-and-half, and it was intentionally done by him to make you have to share one box of pizza at a time. This was how he made his move. You didn’t know about his plan until he opened the boxes to reveal that both pies were evenly split down the middle with toppings on either side, apparently having the competition for grossest preferences. His half had cheese and green peppers, which you told him was the grossest thing ever, and you got the other half of the pizza decked out with your favorite toppings. He returned the compliment and moved his gaming system off to the side to make room for the two pizza boxes.

“You know… they make movies like Space Invaders? There’s this fucking sick movie I watched called Invasion of the Body Snatchers… fucking wild, dude.” Wally moved over to his entertainment system, rearranging the cords behind the TV to connect to the VHS player sitting on the shelf beneath it. A few moments of silence and shuffling and watching him bend over in those pants, the seams running down the middle—right over his crack—threatening to rip as he forced so much of himself into that taut fabric. It was still a miracle that the pants highlighted everything they needed to while keeping the rest loose and free for him to move without much care. He got the movie playing and returned back to his seat on the couch, the same one he claimed to play video games in and the same one that was so close to you. He picked up a box of pizza and rested it on his lap, his feet finding rest on the table yet again. Thumbing open the box from the slightly protruding cardboard tab, he let the flat cover swing over onto his knees and shins.

Wally went for a slice, stuffing his mouth carelessly. He looked over to you and gave you the sign that it was okay to start eating, if you had any doubt about it before. You reached over, damning the cardboard box, pizza, and layer of fabric keeping you from his dick to hell.

A few slices in, Wally faced his first predicament while watching the movie. A rogue pizza slice planned to sabotage him, dripping its cheesy and saucy remnants all over his shirt like he was being booed for his attempts to make a move on you by his own plan. “Ah, shit.”

He really didn’t want to miss a second with you, knowing that he was close to something finally happening. So, he pulled at the neck of his shirt and lifted it up and over his head, discarding it to the floor. He figured that he could deal with the stains later when they weren’t the only ones to clean that had a mess left on them. Something he was too afraid to do the night of a successful football game, he was still too nervous to do now—to be fully exposed in front of you. Even after his flat stomach would inevitably be bloated from the pizza, he still wanted you to see fully. Not in glimpses, not in pieces. Him, for all of his faults and worries and good and bad days. All it takes is one look to know if you like him like that, and it only takes one look at your face to know. But, he couldn’t bring himself to lose his pants, not yet.

Instead, he helped you embrace his upper body by moving the box of remaining pizza to the table with its twin’s arrival. Then, he just let his arm go above the couch and fall over both of your shoulders, slightly pulling you closer to him.

You noticed that he had taken his shirt off, but left it to be an unexplored subject of the night. At least, it would be unexplored in spoken words. Rather, you let your eyes do the looking and imagining what was under the rest of his clothes. His socks were a given, but his blue plaid pants held something that even your imagination couldn’t satisfy the image of. The way his legs were lifted up to the table, being pressed together meant that everything good that swung between them had to rest on top, giving you the perfect angle to see him. His length when he wasn’t hard was impressive, and his balls created a pocket in his soft pants that you wanted to see every curve of. But you tried to focus back on the movie, as it seemed that this might be the farthest Wally was willing to go with you. Friends cuddling, friends who are close to each other and care for one another more than anyone else on the team—that’s who you were. So, you kept on watching the movie, waiting for the hours to tick by.

But, a scene from the movie really got to you towards the end of the movie. Body horror was always a hit-or-miss for you, and the scene was graphic enough to make you turn your head. Wally had done the same, abandoning all hope of bravery and turning away from the screen and in your direction. The both of you made eye contact, your eyes staring into his rich brown ones. The warmth of them contrasted with the woman screaming on screen, and the shared silence between the two of you felt impossible to mistake as anything else but the right time. He started to lean towards you, and you moved closer to him, losing sight of him when you closed your eyes, waiting for a kiss that never came. The phone picked up on the woman’s scream on the television, blaring out its own final wishes as someone would have to put an end to its sole purpose by answering the call. Wally turned his head to the phone, then looked back to you with awkward eyes.

“That’s probably my mom.” He rose to his feet and swept across the room in quick motions, leaving you to sit upright without his presence.

You patted his seat, playing nice with him, “Gotcha, I’ll keep your seat warm.”

Wally went to pick up the phone, “Hello?”

“Hi, honey!” She cheered over the line. Wally could hear the smile forming through her voice on the other end. “How’s everything going? Did you light the last candle?”

“Yeah, I did when I got home. Look, I can’t stay on the phone long, I have company, Mom.” He sighed out in one breath.

“How many of your friends showed up?” She asked, trying to figure out if she should be worried about nine or ten rowdy boys messing up her house. He looked back to you and then turned his head back to the phone, mouth near the receiver like saying the words any closer would make it true, “A lot.”

“Okay, sweetie. I won’t keep you long then, don’t break anything! Love you.” Her voice got progressively louder as if she really wanted him to know about her affection.

“Love you too, mom. Bye.” He placed the phone back on its holder, returning back to the couch just as the end credits started to roll.

With the movie no longer keeping your attention, you asked him, “Does she know that I’m the only one who showed up?”

“Totally, and she said that you’re a total loser for coming over.” He replied, adding, “How about we move this upstairs? It’s getting kind of late, yeah?”

You agreed, yawning before and after you spoke. “Yeah, maybe a sleepover isn’t good after having school all day.”

“But now we know for next time,” he finished off with a yawn, infected by your set pair of them.

“Will there be a next time?” Your question sounded eager, not dreadful like you never wanted to do this again. This was probably the best time you had hanging out with someone. A "next time” would be necessary to finish where you left off, unless you happened to be misreading the situation. Though, there was almost no doubt about it as your teasing seemed to amp itself up.

“Maybe, if you don’t snore in your sleep,” Wally bargained, turning back to you as he took charge up the stairs. “But yeah, I’d love for there to be a next time.”

Wally led you up to his bedroom, taking careful time on the stairs to talk about the few family photos he had framed that you must have missed, so eager to listen to his directions and not break anything in his house by simply wandering into the wrong room.

Eventually, he opened his bedroom door for you, stepping over the sleeping bags strewn across the floor, “I’m sure you saw that earlier, that’s when I planned to have more people over. Can’t be too prepared. But since it’s just you and me, we can go halfsies on the bed? Sleeping on the floor is bad for your body and all…”

“And getting crushed by you is so much better?” You crossed your arms and sat on the end of his bed. It was soft yet firm like Wally’s touch—better yet, Wally’s skin. The way he made you feel like you were clinging on to something that was priceless yet easily available for your every whim was magical.

He insisted, “Some say it’s very therapeutic.”

Once you were all said and done with getting ready for bed, taking turns finishing up for the night. Wally shut his door, and you two were left alone to figure out the bed situation. You knew you were going to be sleeping next to him, but you had no idea if that would entail a wall being built out of pillows between you, if clothes would provide an extra barrier, or if something much more tantalizing would happen. But, you didn’t expect Wally to be the one to go first.

“Hope you’re good with me sleeping naked. Guess I should have said that before I suggested the bed…” He was in the middle of toeing off his socks, using his biggest toe to peel each off from the top-down while standing at the foot of his bed. Naturally, the next step to take would be to remove his pants. He left any idea of wearing a shirt at the door to his bedroom, the opportunity to have some restraint between the two of you ready to take the same exit.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll stay in my pajamas but you get comfortable, it’s your house, your bed.” You insisted on him, ensuring that he would feel find in his own skin. Plus, the view you would fall asleep and wake up to just sounded a hell of a lot better.

“If you say so.” He complied, his thumbs tucking into the waistband of his pants. The string keeping them up had been undone since he got back from the bathroom, and he was able to easily stretch out the band with just his thumbs alone. He pushed them down, the fabric fighting a bit as they slid over his thick ass and his dick and meaty thighs. His knees bent as he kept lowering himself down, pushing the pants down to his ankles then returning to his normal height to step out of them. Now, he was only wearing his gold necklace and nothing else. Just one thing remained on him, and you wanted to rip it off with your teeth.

The action never came and the thought went from a boiling idea at the forefront of your mind to a simmer on the back burner of the white stove downstairs. Distant, yet so close. That’s how you felt about Wally when you were both next to each other in his Queen-sized bed, cast in the soft light of his desk lamp on the other side of the room. He took up much of the bed in height, head laid back against a pillow that almost brought his feet over the edge of the mattress, so it was hard to not feel his presence from his radiant body heat to his soft breaths.

It felt like hours had passed, yet you could feel the moonlight leaning on you as a burning reminder that it had only been minutes since you took up the mantle with your crush. He seemed to be having the same problem, turning and twisting in some desperation to find comfort. That was hard to miss, too. The only direction he didn’t turn was to face you, going from his back to his side so that his pale skin glimmered in the fraction of moonlight peeking through the curtain. The small brown moles and blemishes were visible on him from the years of being kissed by the sun. He tossed himself around again, landing on his back and ruffling his hair just a little more each time.

You spoke to him but didn’t look over, “Can’t sleep?”

“No, I just…” He paused. “Have a lot on my mind with… college and stuff. And I can’t do everything before hitting the hay…” It all came out it half-whines and slowly said statements like he was trying to avoid the instincts of a tyrannosaur, moving ever so carefully under the sheets.

His shoulder lifted slightly, a light bump forming in the waves of gray made by your two bodies under the comforter. It circled down to where his crotch was. There was a light shift on the bed as well as the noise of skin hitting lightly against itself. You could hear it in the silence, breaking with his shuddered breath. He had been so busy, and now, he was next to you. Nothing stood in the way of thinking of you in ways that he could only do when you—or when any of his responsibilities—weren’t paying attention. This was a break for him, so he should be able to indulge in what he wants.

You, next to him. The thought alone was enough to make blood flow to his dick in seconds. His hand that had traveled down to his inner thigh slowly started to play with his growing length. Fingers wrapped around his shaft and started tugging, ones that he knew all too well from the time he had spent milking himself of every sexual desire almost every night. Only recently had that changed, and maybe for the better this time.

You could feel the light motions of whatever he was doing rocking the bed, it was enough to pull your attention to his side. Turning your head, you saw it—the lifted part of his big blanket shifting as the line went from his dick and all the way up to where his pale shoulders stuck out. You could pretty quickly piece together what he was doing. The way his face fell impossibly further back into his soft pillow, eyes half-lidded as he slipped in and out of fantasy and the reality next to him.

“Help me out with this…” Wally huffed, taking an entire breath to say those words.

You were breathless just moments later, crawling under the sheets and being trapped in the intoxicating warmth surrounding you. The air was stale in seconds, filled by his musk as the endless sky of grey went over your head and created just enough to see Wally. You found yourself on the edge of the bed, between his legs, your own legs feeling the chill air on the outside of your confines. Heat radiated from him more now that you were pressed against him, and you could feel your face heating up at the intimacy. You were about to blow him… this night really wasn’t a bust.

Your lips met his tip, which was already leaking precum, and used that to guide yourself down him given the darkness that has formed around you. You could see him, but sight can distract from the taste, and he tasted so good. He tasted a bit salty from being in thick winter fleece for most of the night, presumably showering once he got home from school because there was the faint scent of the damp woods and sweet flowers. The spiciness in his taste—and smell—was all him, though.

He arched his back from the bed, parting from its comforting coddle and moaning out into the quiet room. It was willing to curve for him but his bends were sharp, jagged as he fought to keep himself from releasing instantly. He was so worked up that he would have loved to keep your lips sealed to him, taking all of his cum then and there. You had managed to take him down to the base, gagging only once and feeling the heat get to you. Though they were practically invisible, your nose was buried in his dark pubes, the texture of stubble rubbing against your nose. The smell of his had gotten much stronger now that your nose was pressed against him.

It was another thing taking away your already-shortened breath and you had to pull off within seconds of throating his cock. You kept repeating the motion, taking him into your mouth until you felt like you needed to come up for the stuffy air you were trapped in. Then, you were back on to blowing him until he couldn’t take it anymore. After minutes of work, Wally had enough of fighting his urge to ruin your face and his bed sheets.

“Get on top of me,” he wanted to see you, to hold you. He continued by saying your name and a desperate “please” flew out of his lips. “I need this.”

Fresh air hit your lungs the second you crawled up to him, appearing from under sheets as he helped you get free and gave you matching bedhead. He continued to lay down, watching you kneel just above his hard cock, stripping off your top and pushing down your bottoms so that he could have easy access to the place he planned to dump his load in. Shuffling back, Wally reached around to help stick his dick in. With his so-called “help,” he teased your crack for a second, feeling the way your skin felt against his tip. He put it in after a second of teasing and, suddenly, you felt like a cowboy riding such a big horse.

You were able to lean back, taking more of him into you and dealing yourself a great amount of pain from the way he stretched you out. The other option was to fall into his arms, chest to chest. Heart to heart. Knowing that he could rock you to sleep like this, you chose to sit yourself upright, letting him push all of his length into you. The inches went in fast but came out slow as Wally’s hands came around to your hips to lift you up with the strength he had to let you bounce on his dick. He did his best to thrust while under your weight, but it was only when you did fall over against him did he really pick up his pace. He rocked his hips back and forth, fucking you tenderly as you used his neck and chest as your own pillow.

You humped against his lower torso, your hole pulled against his cock as the tight ring worked over most of his shaft with how much you could pull yourselves away from each other, then sink right back into place. You ended up finding release from the friction alone and ruining your own pajama pants and anything else you had on. Wally came shortly after, too pent up to really make a lasting effort. Much to your chagrin, you ended up falling asleep on him, not bothering to clean up the mess until the next day. Wally insisted on holding you close as the only member to show up to his sleepover.

#wally clark #wally clark x you #wally clark x reader #x male reader #x reader #wally clark x male reader #fanfic #milo manheim #milo manheim x reader #milo manheim x male reader #school spirits #school spirits x reader #school spirits x male reader #gay #gay fanfiction

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chaesonghwas · 6 months

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hi babyyyyyy. could you write me a piarles with "warming up your hands with theirs" from the holiday prompts ? :D

(wink wink you can maybe even use it for short fic event)

HELLO DEAREST💖💖💖

This prompt ran away from me a little (+ I combined it with 'warm' for the short fic event) but I really hope you like itttt

“It’s cold. Why is it so cold?”

“Well, we’re in winter, calamar.”

Charles glares at him, plowing clumsily through the snow on the sidewalk. “You get what I mean.”

“Yeah, baby. I understand that you’ve been visiting my family here since you were about 8, but your Mediterranean ass still can’t handle a little cold,” Pierre teases with a smile. It’s one of his favorite things about his boyfriend, the way he gets chilly quite easily and ends up wrapped up in a million blankets or wrapped up in Pierre.

It’s somewhat of an inconvenience when they’re outside though, particularly in a situation like now when they have firm orders from his mother to return quickly from the store with extra ingredients for their Christmas Eve dinner.

Charles, still offended with his previous comment, kneels down to grab some snow and shoots it straight into Pierre’s chest.

There’s not much force to it and his experience with snow makes the ball crumble very fast, so in the end it bothers Charles himself more than it does Pierre.

“My hands are cold now, Pear.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You shouldn’t have been throwing snowballs.”

“Oh my god.” Charles rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “You are so dense.”

He takes his hand and threads their fingers together, shoving it in Pierre’s pocket, and grabbing the other grocery bag his boyfriend had been holding on the other side.

“There we go.” He smiles contentedly, blush tinting his cheeks from the freezing air. “You’re warm, Pear.”

Pierre could tease him a little more but he doesn’t have the heart to when he looks so cute, so he just leans over and drops a kiss on his temple. “You should get used to the cold though. You’re going to need it.”

“Why?” Charles frowns, confused, until something clicks in his brain and he gasps loudly. “OH MY GOD, DID YOU GET THE JOB?”

Months and months ago, Pierre had applied for a job as a football journalist for Sky Sports UK - the hiring process had been irrationally long, but he’d gotten the call yesterday and hadn’t really known how to break it to Charles. Being a graphic designer, his boyfriend could work from anywhere, so he’d been nothing but encouraging to Pierre to follow his dreams and had had no qualms about moving to London - even if his complaints about the cold were about to become a lot more frequent.

“I did, yeah. They called me yesterday night,” he answers, unable to contain his smile or his excitement, and Charles just looks at him so sweetly that Pierre wants to kiss him forever.

“PIERRE! CONGRATULATIONS!” Charles squeals, jumping on him and wrapping his legs around his chest to keep himself steady, but the icy ground at their feet is too slippery and Pierre ends up falling on his ass. The floor is cold and wet but he also ends up with a lapful of Charles, so he can’t really complain.

“Hello, cherie,” Pierre says as he swipes Charles’ messy hair away from his forehead, but he flinches at the touch.

“Get away from me, your hands are cold now.” He jumps up quickly and grabs a hold of their bags, moving away from Pierre.

“Hey! I thought we were supposed to be celebrating me!” Pierre whines, still sitting on the floor and getting a laugh out of Charles.

“We can celebrate you when we’re warm and next to the fireplace!” he yells in response, already walking off and forcing Pierre to jump up and run a little to keep up with him.

He is quite cold to be fair, but it’s the principle of the thing. “You’re a little shit!”

“I am, but you love me. That’s why I’m moving across the continent with you.” Charles shoots Pierre a cheeky grin, and in that moment, as his boyfriend is enveloped by the Christmas lights around them and snow falls slowly on their heads, he’s reminded of what he’s always thought and what he’s felt with Charles since the very first day.

Looking at his smile, Pierre just feels warm.

—

Charles does keep his promise, at least.

As soon as they get to the Gasly family home and they’re both out of their cold and wet clothes, they end up curled up next to the fireplace under more than a few blankets.

Charles hands are on Pierre immediately - around his torso, around his neck, touching his face or just holding Pierre’s own. Someone had once said Charles’ love language was physical touch, and they were definitely proven right in that moment. Every touch is careful, adoring - Pierre feels like the luckiest guy in the whole wide world.

“I’m really happy for you,” Charles whispers with his head on Pierre’s chest. Around them, Pierre’s family talk and skitter about, but the two of them remain in their own little bubble.

“Thank you, calamar.” Pierre leaves a kiss on the corner of his mouth and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly. “I love you so much.”

Charles’ eyes soften, and he squeezes back. “I love you too, Pear.”

“Do you think you’re going to like London?”

Even if his boyfriend had been nothing but enthusiastic about moving - and reminded him a million times that they already live pretty far away from their families, so a little bit more of a trip won't be an issue -, Pierre can’t lie and say that he’s not worried. Not just about Charles, but about himself as well.

“I think we’re both going to love it.” He runs his thumb over Pierre’s knuckles back and forth in a soothing motion. “I’m cautiously optimistic.”

“Cautious? You’ve never cautious about anything in your life.”

Charles rolls his eyes exasperatedly. “We were having a sweet moment here, Pear.”

“Every moment is sweet with you, cherie.” He kisses him softly in an attempt to distract him from the teasing with cheesiness - but in reality, Pierre is really grateful for him and all he does. He does want Charles to know that.

“Okay, feed my ego,” Charles chuckles. “As long as you keep me warm, you will be fine.”

“Always, baby.”

#justi writes #piarles fic #1610 #piarles fanfiction

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thiswaycomessomethingwicked · 4 months

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Wait i forgor about my boy. 13, 37, 38 for Willis 💖💖

Our boy Willis!

Fun fact, I've seen him show up in random other people's Discworld fic for the Guild Era and I'm certain it's because people think he's just some background character and not an OC and I think that's hilarious.

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done

Hahahahahahah oh gods. What hasn't Willis done?

Probably the dumbest was falling in love with this Genoan pianist with a possessive husband.

Her name was Emilie and she was a concert pianist in Genoa. Willis met her when he was on a job in the city in his mid/late twenties. They fell madly, deeply, passionately in love.

Truly in love, too, on Willis' side. Since he's more in love with love rather than the woman in front of him. This was certainly something.

Anyway, she had a husband. Willis said, 'That's no matter, I'll call a friend and he'll do me a deal to Take Care Of your old man.'

And Emilie was like, 'Gods bless you, Willis, but I still love him and there is much about him to love. I'm going to make a choice and that choice is to leave you.'

Willis is very heart broken over the entire thing.

A few weeks later, a man shows up at the door of the place Willis is staying demanding satisfaction. Willis slept with his wife, Willis therefore must pay the price.

This is, of course, Jacques, Emilie's husband.

Jacques challenges Willis to a duel. Willis tries to talk him down, expalining that he is an assassin and this will only end badly etc. etc. but Jacques is set on it. He will see revenge taken against the man who dared seduce his wife.

Willis: To be fair, it was a mutual seduction. I didn't swan in and woo her away or anything.

Emilie: Not helping babe. Not helping at all.

Anyway, Willis ends up killing Jacques in the duel because Willis was trained to kill people from the age of ten and Jacques was just some sad opera singer who was a good swordsman, but not as good as a trained assassin. No one will beat a trained killer 1:1 except another trained killer. Which Jacques was not.

Willis did warn him!

Due to the fallout of all of this, Willis was banned from Genoa for ten years and he and Emilie no longer speak and she may have had his child, but he'll never know and the daughter will grow up thinking Jacques was her father because that makes life easier for everyone.

And man, that's not so much "dumb" as "tragic". But also, Willis, don't sleep with married women then challenge their husbands to a duel after offering to hire your friend Downey to inhume them!!

There was one time when Willis rode his mattress off the Guild roof like a roller coaster ride and somehow he lived and had precious few injuries.

Dumb but miraculous.

Still dumb though.

37. What they really think about themselves

Willis, like Downey, actually has a solidly positive view of himself. It's not nearly so egotistical as Downey's sense of self can be, but Willis knows his self worth and that he is worthy of love, respect, and dignity. As are all people.

The big thing is that Willis truly believes he has a stalwart personality that will stay the course on a life choice and that is not, at all, true. So if he decides he's going to turn poet, he truly believes he will always be a poet. Now that he's decided. But he won't be. He'll be a poet for six months then change course again.

However, he still somehow thinks he's a steady, always doing the same thing, sort of guy.

That said, he is loyal to his friends to death. Always has been and always will be and knows this about himself.

38. Favorite holiday

Hogswatch! It's all the warm and fuzzy feelings combined with Old Gods and Blood and Willis is here for it. Mostly he's here for the aesthetics of coziness and familial bonding, even if he hates his grandfather who he lives with.

Willis is one of those people who will construct the narrative of what his childhood with his grandfather should have been rather than say the truth of what it was. Therefore, he's big on Family Holidays and talking about all these things that didn't happen but he wished had happened.

So, he'll be making cocoa and telling Downey about caroling with his grandfather and putting up stockings and all that rot when there was never any caroling or stockings.

Willis loves love because he so very much wants someone to love him as much as he loves the idea of being loved.

-----

I love Willis so much. He deserves a happy family! Downey, invite him over for Hogswatch!! It will do both of you a world of good!!

-----

Thank you so much! <3 <3 <3 <3 I love talking about Willis. Both him and Jocelyn are probably my favourite creations (other than Jorunn from over in LOTR world). <3 <3 <3 <3

#discworld #ask #reply #ask meme #thus always the redux #willis #lord downey #ask game #writing

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getmemymicroscope · 4 months

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Well, I guess this is it for the DCEU as we know it, and this movie ... well, sorta just fits into pretty much everything else (aside from Wonder Woman, Shazam!, Blue Beetle, and the Snyder cut; also, maybe, Aquaman the first; finally, also from Harley Quinn, though I'm not sure if that fits into this 'DCEU' storyline) in that it ... sorta just happens. Very reminiscent of the recent Flash movie, which makes sense since that was also released upon us after we had already been told that this DCEU was dead. (Also, fuck WB/DC forever for cancelling Batgirl but then still giving us Flash and this instead.)

I mean, I guess there's nothing inherently wrong with this movie (as long as you don't pay attention to the personal lives of the star cast), but on the other hand, the movie just sorta blahly exists.

I mean kudos for completely ignoring the rest of the DCEU (in fact, we may have had more MCU references than DCEU references!) - it's been a while since we've had this sort of 'stand alone' (I know, I know, it's a sequel) movie in a time where sequels and prequels and offshoots and remakes are all the jam. And while this one falls into that 'jam,' it does dissociated from the rest of everything (other than, of course, Aquaman) as much as it can.

But on the other hand - the movie feels like a watered down (ha ha, see what I did there?) Thor: Ragnarok in way too many instances (and maybe even a bit of Thor: Love and Thunder), combined with A Bug's Life or Land of the Lost or Jurassic Park or something like that. And perhaps most concerning, the best parts were probably in the trailer (and this was not an exciting trailer) and I frequently found myself bored (and, no, this is not superhero fatigue, because I do still enjoy most of these movies/shows). I don't know, I know the DCEU is dead and I did just praise them staying away from the rest of the DCEU in this movie - but on the other hand, maybe it is what this movie needed. Some cameos to liven things up. Because bringing back Patrick Wilson, even with the addition of Randall Park, just wasn't enough.

I didn't mind the story too much, though I'm not sure Mantis got much scope as a true villain. By the end, you know that this king dude is going to be reborn, at least for a minute - but the movie had gone on so long that you kinda wish that Aquaman and his brother would've ended the fight before he could be resurrected. I mean, sure, he's immediately killed off to end things, but even those extra couple of minutes probably weren't necessary.

While I know this isn't a MCU film, there was a complete dearth of laughs, but also a distinct lack of the "dark" that the DCEU has been apparently trying to embrace, albeit without much success.

The movie does have a message of 'family' which is pretty nice, and does argue about the concerns of global warming (as if 'death of humanity/destruction of the world' wasn't enough, no we also have to worry about the resurrection of monsters who have been trapped in ice under the seas for eons!), which is great to see - it's just unfortunate that it sorta gets lost amidst a pretty blah film.

WB and DC fucked up the DCEU so bad - all the hate possible to them. Especially that asshat that fucked over the Batgirl movie. May he have an even worse holiday season than he's ever had before, and may it continue on for more than just the holidays. Until he releases the movie we want, in fact - I think that would be fair. Fuck him.

Wonder what they're gonna do with Aquaman now...

#movies #movieblr #gmmm does movies

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pellucid-constellations · 2 years

Text

Hello, everyone!! ♡

In honor of Valentine’s Day, I’m hosting my first writing challenge! I know that this holiday has become a bit commercialized, so I wanted to bring it back to what it’s really supposed to be about—love and all the sweet, little things it emcompasses (even if they are angsty 😉).

For this challenge, I want you to incorporate a love letter into your fic since they are just the epitome of sappiness and affection! But love letters don’t have to always be handwritten and pages long. Text messages, voicemails, a quick note on a napkin, magnets combined on a fridge; anything that can be left behind for someone counts :)

This writing challenge will open today and close on March 31st! I will be reading and reblogging each fic, and then adding them to a masterlist.

Below are the rules and some prompts for inspo! I can’t wait to read what everyone comes up with! ♡

How to enter: Send me an ask letting me know that you want to participate, and then tag me in your fic when you post it and use #loveletterswritingchallenge! If I haven’t responded to your post, shoot me a dm, I might’ve missed it! :)

Who you can write for: Anyone in the mcu, in any AU or in universe! I’ve only written for Steve and Bucky, but I’m open to read for other characters!

What I won’t accept: No dark fics, anything involving minors, incest, rape or noncon/dubcon.

General guidelines: There is no maximum or minimum word count, but if your fic is over 200 words then please use the “read more” function. You don’t have to use a prompt provided, but multiple people can use the same one if they want! If you have any questions, feel free to send me an ask or a dm :)

Angst Prompts

“How much pain do you have to go through before giving up is okay?”

“I’m here. I know that’s not enough, but it’s all I got.”

“They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but my heart just became numb.”

“Tell me you don’t want to leave. Say I’m enough to make you stay. I know it’s not true, but please just say it.”

“I wish you would think of me when I wasn’t right in front of you.”

“You looked right at me when you said it. I think you meant every word.”

“I wanted to believe you thought about me.”

“Could you stay a little bit longer?”

“Why didn’t you tell me how bad this was going to hurt?”

Fluff Prompts

“Believe me, I will never be tired of you.”

“Have I told you I love you today?”

“I’m sitting here, with this stupid pen in my hand, and damn I can’t believe you have me writing right now.”

“Is it fair to say that you read the love letter and that this means ‘yes’?”

“Did you know that I think about you every time the clouds look like that?”

“And I’ve never felt like that before, but something about you makes me want to feel like that.”

“You’ve used up all of the sugar in my house, did you know that?”

“This is a formal request for you to give my jacket back. Unless you need it. Then I guess you can keep it. Until next week.”

“You can tell me anything.”

Hurt/Comfort Prompts

“Put your arm around my—or just fall on me, that works too.”

“You don’t always have to act like you’re so tough, you know.”

“Can you please come get me?”

“So I’m leaving you this message in case you need it… you know, all you ever have to do is say the word and I’m there.”

“Hey, just look at me. Breathe.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Playlist for inspo :)

Tagging a few mutuals, but absolutely no pressure!!

@vanderlustwords @barnesafterglow @chouettedubois @bwhitewolfbarnes @cupidsbarnes @sergeantxrogers @ambrosiase @sweetdreamsbuck @sweetascanbee @foreverindreamlandd @wkemeup @bloomingbucky @aphrogeneias @buckys-left-middle-finger @doll1917 @breadqueen95 @imaginearyparties @buckysbiota @samthemarvelfan @nacho-bucky @intrepidacious @lovelybarnes

#marvel fanfiction #writing prompt #loveletterswritingchallenge #writing challenge

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rubysunnday · 3 years

Text

stupid in love

request by anon: hey congrats for 2.6k followers, that's so cool!!! I don't know if i'm too late but can i request jesper from shadow and bone x reader with prompt 5? would love for it to be romantic :) congrats again and thank you if you decide to write it!! <3

A/N: is this romantic? no idea but I've been writing this for like a month and I'm beyond done with it so have whatever the fuck this is

warnings: six of crows stuff, blood, swearing, alludes to suicide throughout

"I threw myself out a window for you! What more do you want from me?"

Y/N almost punched him. Him throwing himself out the window was the entire reason she was annoyed at him. It had been terrifying and Y/N had thought Jesper was dead. But Jesper had taken it as another fable to tell the punters - hadn't realised how lucky he was. Y/N glowered at Jesper from across the bar as she poured him another shot.

"Maybe for you to actually pay for these shots?" Y/N asked, sliding the shot glass along the bar top to Jesper.

Jesper picked it up and downed it with one smooth movement. "Ah, it's fine, put it on my tab."

Y/N rolled her eyes but obliged, scribbling down the rapidly growing cost of Jesper's evening. He'd actually only had three shots - the rest had been spread around the entire club in celebration of something or other.

Their last job had been chaotic as usual. Jesper had thrown himself out a window, Kaz had almost gotten shot and they'd blown a few things up. But the image of Jesper falling through a window had stuck with Y/N all night.

The entire reason Y/N had ended up in the Dregs was because of her sister. Her sister, who had gone insane, and leapt off a roof, plummeting to her death in front of Y/N. Every time Y/N relived Jesper falling, she saw him in her sister's place. She saw his body instead of hers.

Which was why, Jesper making jokes about his window-smashing exploits wasn't appreciated at that moment.

"'ello, Y/N," Rotty said jogging up to the bar with a beaming smile, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Evening, Rotty," Y/N called, setting the cleaned glasses on the side. "What can I do for you?"

"Boss wants you," Rotty replied. He gestured over his shoulder at Jesper who was singing a rowdy sea shanty with an arm around a red-haired woman who looked like an actual mermaid. "And him."

"Have you told him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He said 'in a moment'."

"Oh for -" Y/N bought her fingers to her lips and whistled. Loudly.

The entire bar fell silent and everyone turned to stare at her. She pointed at Jesper and then up at Kaz's office door.

"You, upstairs, now," Y/N demanded.

Jesper sighed, grumbling to himself as he slid off the redhead's lap and practically stomped after Y/N as she walked up the stairs.

She paused at the top and looked down at the still silent bar. "Carry on."

The chatter and sound of money being lost quickly restarted. Y/N shut the office door behind her, the noise from downstairs all but disappearing behind the thick, iron door.

Inej was, unsurprisingly, already there. She stood near to Kaz, her hands clasped behind her back with her hood up. As Y/N approached Kaz, he looked up at her and then at Jesper who'd flopped down in a plush armchair near the window.

"Is he drunk?"

"No," Y/N replied, sitting down in the chair Kaz had in front of his desk and crossing her legs. She fanned out her skirt and clasped her hands together in her lap. "He bought shots for everyone in the club but he's only had three."

"Good, I need him sober," Kaz replied. He gave Jesper a cursory glance over his shoulder. "Jesper, come here."

Jesper stood up and skulked over to the desk, leaning over Y/N's head to see what was on the desk. "Is that -"

"Yes."

"And are we -"

"Yes."

Y/N frowned and sat forward, looking at the plans laid out on Kaz's desk. She raised her eyebrows. "The Geldrenner Hotel? Really? What's there."

"You mean who is there," Kaz corrected. He handed Y/N a newspaper cut out featuring a grainy print of a member of the Merchant Council.

"Is that Van Halla?" Y/N asked, squinting at the print. "Isn't he meant to be in Os Alta?"

"He's on holiday and is staying at the Geldrenner with his wife and entourage or fifty," Kaz replied. "And whilst he is here, he's attending the extravagant birthday of Van Eck."

"Oh, I see where this is going," Y/N said, nodding. "I saw the Van Eck birthday present list - what did Halla get?"

"The Millenium Watch."

Three pairs of eyes looked at Kaz with surprise and shock.

"I'm sorry, you want us to steal the Millenium Watch?" Jesper asked, gaping. "One of the most expensive watches in history?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I need a new pocket watch," Kaz said with a shrug.

"And the real reason?" Inej asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I've made a deal with someone - in exchange for the Millenium Watch we get the plans to the Boeksplein."

"And what's there?"

"Need to know."

The three of them scoffed but weren't entirely surprised.

"Now, are you done interrogating me?" Kaz asked. "Because I would like to get on with the job."

'So, here's the plan.'

The hotel was ridiculous grand for the streets of Ketterdam. Granted, it did sit in the middle of the Financial District and was within view of the Stadwatch barracks to avoid any burglaries, heists or assassinations.

It was strictly reserved for the rich and wealthy and the majority of Ketterdam knew they would never be privileged enough to see inside the marbled walls.

And up until now, Y/N had thought herself one of those people.

'Jesper, Y/N, you two will go in disguised as staff. Inej will be on the roof and sneak in through the skylight.'

'And what about you, Kaz?"

"I, darling, Y/N, will be causing a distraction.'

"What do you mean there's no reservation for me?!"

Y/N looked up from the bin she was emptying. Kaz was standing at the front desk, dressed in a - quite frankly ridiculous - outfit, waving his arms around and swearing. A lot. Y/N glanced over at Jesper, a smile pulling on her lips. "I take it that that's the distraction," she whispered.

As Kaz continued to flap his arms like a bird, Y/N and Jesper headed over to the hand-operated elevator. The two of them nodded at the elevator operator.

"Seventh floor, please," Jesper said, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Oh, oh, wait, please!"

A woman, dressed in the ridiculous fashions of the wealthy, bustled into the elevator, dragging about eight different cases and hat boxes with her.

"You," she said, snapping her fingers at Jesper, "take these up to my room - number 754b." The woman turned to Y/N. "Be a dear and take these."

Before Y/N could protest, a black, leather briefcase was pushed into her arms as Jesper was pushed out the door. The elevator operator sighed and began working the elevator up to floor 7.

"I like your dress, ma'am," Y/N said, attempting to break the awkward elevator music.

"Oh, aren't you a dear!" The women cooed. "My husband - Van Halla - bought it for me."

Y/N almost dropped the briefcase.

'What floor is Van Halla staying on?'

'Seventh floor, room 54b, Inej. It's the penthouse and the only room with a skylight.'

'Which is how Inej is getting in. But how are we getting out?'

'Front door, Y/N. If this goes to plan, we'll walk out that hotel through the front door with the watch.'

'And if something goes wrong?'

'Well, then, Jesper, I guess you'd better get acquainted with Hellgate.'

The elevator trundled up to the seventh floor and Y/N traipsed after the woman - who was, apparently, Van Halla's wife - to the penthouse.

As Y/N stepped into the penthouse, one thing went through her mind.

Money does not buy you taste.

And that was coming from someone who lived in the Slat which was, to be fair, held up by sheer terror at what Kaz may do should it collapse.

"Just leave the bags in the bedroom, darling," the woman called, waving a hand to the right.

Y/N hovered awkwardly for a moment, trying to work out where exactly in the cavernous, garishly white and orange room she was pointing to. Eventually, Y/N spotted a double door - bright orange like the cushions on the sofa - and assumed that was the bedroom.

She opened the doors and almost dropped the bags.

The 'bedroom' was bigger than her room. In fact, it was probably bigger than her room, Jesper's room, Kaz's room and Inej's room combined.

"Damn," Y/N muttered, her eyes wide. "What it is to have money, huh?"

Y/N dumped the bags on the floor near the wardrobe and turned to go when a small, black velvet box sat on a table. She paused.

"Do you want me to unpack the bags, ma'am?" Y/N called, quietly approaching the table, trying to get a closer look at the engraved plaque on the top of the box.

"No, no, you're fine!"

Y/N stood in front of the table, her heart pounding. Happy birthday, Van Eck was engraved on the top of the box. Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out an identical box.

'So, we switch the boxes?'

'Thanks to Jesper's hidden talent - no need to roll your eyes, Jesper - we have an exact replica of the watch. Minus a few details, obviously, drawings and sketches only give so much detail.'

'And if we get caught with the watch? Because either way, they'll know something's up.'

'Best not to get caught then, Y/N. However, if for whatever someone isn't at the rendevous, we'll plan something.'

'So reassuring, Kaz.'

'Oh, good, I'm glad, I was concerned I my tone wasn't coming across.'

Y/N glanced out into the main room of the penthouse and quickly switched the boxes, making sure the fake was in the exact same position as the original. She slipped the original into her pocket and stepped out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"If that's all then, ma'am," Y/N said, bowing to the woman.

"Yes, yes, thank you," she said, nodding.

Y/N headed towards the front door when it swung open and a large man, with a red face and a huge moustache, stormed in.

"Excuse me, sir," Y/N said, pressing herself to the wall as he marched past.

The man barely looked at her - he just sniffed.

"Victoria! Why did you not wait for me?" He called.

"You were busy having a go at some man, darling," the woman - Victoria - replied. "Feel better for yelling?"

"Oh, wife, you know me too well."

Y/N quickly left the room before Van Halla started kissing his wife. They were only some things she could cope with.

With the watch secure in her pocket, Y/N made her way back down to the elevator. She spotted Jesper on her way - struggling with the numerous bags Van Halla had apparently abandoned.

Y/N whistled at him and gestured her head, tapping her wrist. Jesper dropped the bags - Y/N was certain she heard something smash - and jogged up to her side.

"You got it?"

"It was surprisingly easy," Y/N whispered as they headed to the elevator. "It was lying there."

The music in the elevator played joyfully as they rode down - Y/N was trying not to bop to the light plinking piano music.

'So, once we've got the watch. How do we get out?'

'No need to point between you and Jesper, Y/N, I knew who you meant. You two will go out the servant's entrance here and meet Inej and I where the carriages are stored.'

'And if things go to shit?'

'Luckily for you, Jesper, I have plans ranging from A all the way to T.'

'What happens if we get to S? Damn, Kaz, no need to glare at me like that, Saints. You could set me on fire!'

'Shut up, Y/N.'

"Never, boss.'

The servant's entrance was quiet and empty which was a blessing for Jesper and Y/N - especially since Y/N could feel the watch box beginning to metaphorically burn a hole in her coat.

A guard was sat in the chair by the door, intently reading a book. He looked up as they approached and smiled.

"Ah, hello!" He said, standing up. "Right, let's do this quickly, shall we? I'm at a good point in my book. So, you know and I know this but I have to state it again for rules - I have to search you as you come in and out the building since we have numerous Merchants staying here. We don't want anything expensive to get stolen since we can't afford a lawsuit!" He clapped his hands. "So, which one of you wants to get searched first?"

Y/N and Jesper shared a look.

"I'll go first," Y/N volunteered, stepping forward and holding her arms out.

The guard patted her down, humming joyfully as he did so. "Perfect! And you, sir?"

Jesper stepped forward but tripped over the leg of the chair, knocking the chair over and jogging the table and knocking a vase over.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Jesper exclaimed, kneeling down to pick up the vase.

"Oh, it's fine, I do it all the time," the guard said, smiling. "Anyhoo."

Jesper set the vase on the table and lifted his arms. "You know, this isn't usually how I like to begin."

The guard looked up at him and raised his eyebrows, smiling. "No?"

"No. I prefer a more intimate setting."

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed. She cleared her throat pointedly and Jesper winked at the guard, stepping aside.

"Seriously?" Y/N hissed as they walked down the side street to the garage at the back.

"It worked, didn't it?" Jesper replied.

"Oi!"

Jesper turned with a smile on his face, fully expecting it to be the previous guard. Except it wasn't. A sterner looking guard was marching towards them both with a glare in his eyes.

"The idiot back there forgot to ask for your papers," he snapped. "Papers. Now."

'What happens if we need papers to get in and out?'

'I've thought about that.'

'And?'

'Well, best get running. And try to avoid bullets.'

'Why did I expect anything else from you, Kaz?'

Jesper's hand brushed against Y/N's as he stepped forward, communicating silently the plan.

Which consisted of nothing more than run.

"We forgot our papers," YN said smoothly.

The guard raised his eyebrows. "Well, then I can't let you leave until I've contacted your supervisor. You'll have to come with me."

As the man reached out to grab Y/N's wrist, she grabbed his arm, and using all her strength, flipped him over her back and into the floor.

"Go!" Y/N yelled, shoving Jesper up the hill as she ran down it.

Y/N leapt over the guard and ran down the street, the steep gradient speeding her up. The garage was at the other end of the street - up the hill where Jesper had gone - but Y/N knew the guard would be chasing after her.

For a moment, all Y/N could hear was her pounding heartbeat, her vision bouncing up and down as she ran. And then a gunshot cracked out.

Y/N stumbled forward and then darted to the right, hiding in a bush in someone's garden as she panted. She kept quiet as she heard the guard stop right in front of her bush. Y/N didn't allow herself to relax until the guard swore loudly and jogged back up the hill.

Y/N leant her head back against the wall behind her and felt tears well in her eyes as she pressed a hand to her stomach. The bullet had gone through her back and out through her stomach. There was so much blood and the pain was overwhelming - almost blinding.

But, Y/N forced herself out of the bush and to her feet. There was a back alley with a set of stairs leading up to the garage - a very steep set of stairs, mind.

Step by step, Y/N climbed up the stairs, tightly holding onto the handrail as she climbed. Thankfully, the row of expensive-looking carriages was at the top of the stairs and Y/N's knees nearly buckled with relief when she saw the familiar slim shape of Inej.

"Inej," Y/N gasped, falling forwards onto her knees.

Inej ran over to Y/N, her feet silent on the cobbles. She knelt down next to her and held Y/N up with a hand on her uninjured side. "What happened?"

"Oh, turns out we need papers to get out," Y/N grunted, hissing with pain as Inej pressed a black handkerchief - that looked suspiciously like the one Kaz carried - against her front wound.

"Where's Jesper?"

"No idea. Where's Kaz?"

"No idea."

"Excellent, at least we're on the same - ow - page," Y/N inhaled sharply, her hand flying to grab Inej's arm as a wave of pain tossed her into a rock. "Saints."

"It went straight through, thankfully, so I think if we stitch it when we get back and keep it clean -"

"I'll live to get shot another day?" Y/N quipped, smiling despite the sheer amount of pain she was in. "I hope one of them appears with a carriage soon."

Inej kept a steady hand on Y/N's side, keeping her propped up on her knees as she tied a scarf around her waist, covering both wounds.

"Thank you," Y/N said softly, her head resting against Inej's shoulder.

"For what?" Inej asked, frowning. "For saving your life? Again? Because I'd do that even if you'd pissed me off."

A breath of laughter escaped Y/N's lips as she lifted her head. "No. Just for being here. Jesper and I..."

"I know," Inej said quietly. "Does he know?"

"About what? About how I had to watch him fall out a third storey window, not knowing if he was alive or dead? To have to cope with the mental images I have of his broken, bleeding body lying in the streets only to be thrown onto the Reaper's Barge? To know that every time I close my eyes I see Jesper where my sister was? I see Jesper jumping off the roof and plummeting instead of her? I see him staring back at me with glassy eyes and a broken neck and bleeding and -"

"Ok, ok, calm down," Inej shushed, putting a hand on the back of Y/N's head. Y/N sobbed, burying her face into the crook of Inej's neck. She cried for her dead sister, for the fact Jesper was at times an oblivious idiot and for the fact her side really fucking hurt.

"Inej I just keep seeing him lying there," Y/N sobbed. "I know he's fine but I -"

"I know, Y/N, I know," Inej said softly, stroking her hair back. She gently took her face between her hands. "But he is not your sister. Ok? Now, come on we need to get you standing."

Y/N managed to get her feet underneath her and with help from Inej, she was soon standing up - albeit a bit wobbly. Inej kept a hand on Y/N's arm, the physical contact keeping them both going as they waited for Kaz and Jesper.

Not even a minute later, a carriage rolled down the street with Kaz and Jesper in the driver's seat.

"Don't tell Jesper," Y/N said suddenly, panic in her voice.

Inej nodded. "I won't."

Kaz's dark eyes looked Y/N up and down as Jespe halted the horses to a stop. "Trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Y/N replied, trying to hide her wince of pain as she tried to stand straighter.

"Inej?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. Kaz had quickly caught on to the fact she often downplayed her pain when injured, so he often asked literally anyone else.

"Through and through - she'll be fine if get back soon," Inej replied.

"Good, on you get."

Y/N climbed inside the carriage, sinking into the velvet green seat with a sigh of relief. Inej hovered by the open door before eventually coming to a decision.

"I'll be up front if you need me," she said softly, knowing that Y/N needed a moment alone.

Y/N had never been so grateful that Inej was her best friend. The carriage doors shut, and with the curtains pulled over the windows, it was blissfully dark. Y/N closed her eyes and relaxed as best she could - she kept a hand tightly pressed over Inej's scarf and her wound.

She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until someone tapped her knee. Y/N jumped and opened her eyes to Jesper staring at her with eyes full of concern.

"You alright?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Y/N... why are you acting strange?"

"I'm not."

Jesper sat down opposite her as the carriage resumed moving. "You are. Ever since the last job you've been acting weird."

Y/N shrugged. "Sorry."

Jesper frowned. "Is this about the last job? Look, I didn't actually fall out a window for you..."

Jesper's words faded away as Y/N's mind was filled with the memory of Jesper falling. And then it wasn't Jesper it was her sister again. And then it was Inej. And even Kaz. Over and over again they were falling and falling and falling.

"Stop the carriage!"

The carriage had barely stopped before Y/N practically threw herself outside, her side screaming in protest at the sudden movement. She didn't give anyone a second glance as she moved off the open road and down into the hedgerow. There was a small river running through the field near them - one that leads into the Ketterdam canals - and Y/N fell to her knees on the banks of it, plunging her hands into the water.

Stupid, so, so stupid. It had been years since her sister had died and just when Y/N thought she'd moved on, Jesper pushed her back miles and miles.

Y/N leant forward, leaning on her hands as she stared down at the water, her knees getting wet as she knelt in the wet grass. She heard a twig snap and sighed. "I'm fine, Jesper, just leave me alone."

"Flattered that you thought I was Jesper, but alas," Kaz said, standing behind her.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Kaz. "Sorry, I'll be back in a minute."

Kaz was silent for a minute. "When the memory overwhelms you, find something to ground you. The feeling of something, the sound of something, even. It helps drown it out."

Y/N nodded, sniffing softly. She grunted as she got to her feet, her hand pressed to her side. A quick glance down and she saw red but not too much. "Sorry."

"Trauma doesn't apologise," Kaz said roughly, turning around and heading back up the hill. "So why should you?"

Y/N chuckled to herself. She spotted Jesper at the top of the hill, pacing nervously as Inej tried to calm him down. It took Y/N only a few seconds to decided what to do.

"Jesper, come here," Y/N called, waving him over.

He jogged over to her and his hands were instantly on her shoulders - almost as if he was holding her together. "I'm sorry -"

"Don't be, Jesper," Y/N said softly. She placed her hand over his and rubbed a circle on the back of his hand. "My sister went insane and jumped off a roof when I was fourteen. When I saw you fall out the window... I saw her. She landed in front of me and I stared at her dead, broken body, unable to comprehend what had happened. So, when you fell... I felt like I was fourteen again. And the fact you kept joking about it didn't help. It was nothing you did, Jesper. It's my own trauma rearing its head and wanting to take me down again. I just..."

"I understand," Jesper said softly, his eyes gentle and caring as he looked at her. "And I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Trauma doesn't apologise so why should we?"

Kaz, who was trying not to listen, smirked to himself. He tapped the side of the carriage with the head of his cane. "Come on, lovebirds, we need to move."

Y/N turned back to Jesper and smile, despite her heart aching. "All I ask, Jesper, is if you could maybe carry me back to the carriage because I really hurt right now."

Jesper laughed. "Of course I can, love."

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey imagines #jesper fahey x fem!reader

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insufferablelust · 3 years

Text

Naughty list. (ThrilledAu!Mgg x Reader)

Warnings : Slight smut, Spanking, D/s themed ofc, The use of ‘sir’ & ‘daddy’, mention of edging, mention of overstimulation for future reference, sadist!mgg, condescending!dom, Marking, Its.. um Filthy as many of you already know. Please read at your own discretion.

Hello this is the christmas one shot i’ve promised, its 3 am rn and im so sorry i just done finishing this because things had been so chaotic. But i hope y’all enjoy and please wait up patiently for my next fics which will come in the next several days as promised.

PLEASE NOTE : This blurb sets inside my Thrilled Au, after the Bratty Rendezvous chapter which i have yet to upload, though i will upload it very soon. So basically this fic is the filler chapter and a teaser for the two upcoming chapters of thrilled! so i hope that makes sense and i hope y’all enjoy it. Happy holidays and Merry christmas! Take care, x D

MASTERLIST HERE.

He felt her before he even opens his eyes, a small smile threaten to quirk at the side of her lips in response to the feeling of small kisses all along his face down to his neck— the oh so warm familiar kisses by the love of his life.

“Matthew wake up.” Y/N whispered, giggling to herself as she felt him grunt below her at the feeling of her sinful lips nips and bites onto his skin, “It’s christmas morning, come on daddy.” She whispered once more, but this time doing it with grinding down where her bum was sat prettily atop of his crotch, just enough to make him wrap his hand around her neck.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” His grip tighten a bit just then, as her eyes closed and a smile etched beautifully onto her lips. Matthew scoffed at her reaction before sitting up on the bed, bringing her up with him so he could lean against the headboard.

“J-just waking you..” Was all that she could manage, with shallow breaths and innocently batting her lashes up at him. “Oh, princess..” He murmured as he finally took in the sight of her.

She’s perched up beautifully on her lap, with her thigh high christmas themed socks, his sweater and a collar— a special one he had gifted her a few days prior, with the color red and his named engraved on the inside lining where nobody could see but she certainly could feel. On the outside, it might look like a normal choker necklace but they both know very well that that’s not the case. Its a symbol of him, latched onto her every second of the day— its their dynamic, its how they work.

“You look like a dream, little one..” He gasped, as she whines on his lap, a perfect little noise reserved only for him, making his hard on pressed oh so good against her bottom. “Dressed up for y-you!” Y/N exclaimed happily and slightly out of breath by the way Matthew’s grip just tightens and tightens— just like he was trying to squeeze the cuteness out of her.

God, you’re his, and his his his only.

“I know baby, so so pretty for me, being so so good.” He gave her cheek a pretty light slap, just to make her gasp and leave her sweet little mouth open slightly— all messy and beautiful. “Thank you daddy, just for you.” She smiled then, awaiting for his instruction just like how he likes it— or more importantly, just like how she craves it.

Matthew cocks his head to the side a little as he contemplates on what he’s going to do with her, it’s always like this with them— just wanting to do so many things, explore everything, explore each other’s limits, especially hers. Always hers, he thinks, whatever makes her happy.

So with a simple instruction he lessen the grip on her neck before pressing a small kiss on her forehead, “Go to our room now, and be on your position, daddy has to make some calls for our party this evening but you better be on your position by the time i get there or else.” He taps her cheeks twice, eyes pierced onto hers— as she nods a little, “yes daddy.”

“Go on.” She smiled before pressing a gentle peck to his lips, getting up and padded her tiny feet towards the door, “Oh and princess?”

“Yes daddy?”

“anything off but the socks and your collar.”

—

He’s doing this on purpose, your mean mean daddy is doing this on purpose— making you wait on your knees by the bench inside your dungeon, just waiting and waiting until you feel your knees beginning to fall asleep on you. But you tried your best to be presentable, just how daddy likes it.

Your body jumps a little when the sound of his footsteps rang through the room, sound of the door closing has your feet tingling and your cunt wet, oh he could definitely see the glisten gleam from it for sure.

“I thought you’d be well acquainted with my rules by now, pup.” He let out a disapproving sigh, which made your cheeks warmer and you instantly straighten your back, part your thigh a little and gulps— trying to remember what you did wrong this time.

“I—“

“Ah ah, you know better than to speak without my permission in this room do you?” He scoffed, walking around the room just to tantalize you, sending shiver up your spine. “you were good this morning, so good that daddy had half the mind to make you cum but now i’m not so sure.” He adds, which earn a gasp from you, Oh how you wanted to cum, you want to cum so so bad, the last time you did was a week ago when you were still in Paris— but right after your little bratty rendezvous there was no way in hell, he’d let you cum, oh no no, kitten doesn’t deserve to cum until master says so.

You bit your lip in agony, trying to block the tears that were about to slip from your pretty eyes down your heated cheeks, just trying to do anything he asks— anything. You let out a gasp as he tilt your chin up, which he cooed at and sigh softly, whilst his thumb brush side to side on top of your lips.

“Look at your tears, baby. Do you think it’ll work? hm? you think because daddy’s little elf put on a show this morning, that daddy is going to let this slide?” He pouts condescendingly, watching as the tears finally dripped down your cheeks, oh he wanted to photograph this so bad, his little fairy.

“Go on, answer daddy.” He pats your cheek with his thumb as you tried to find the courage to speak, “I-I’m sorry d-daddy.. i.. please..” Matthew sighed softly, seeing the genuine regret behind your eyes has him reprimanding your punishment, daddy was a tamer, but he was and will always be fair— forgetfulness is a human mistake, besides it’s christmas, and he figured he needed to give you something from all the torture you’ve endured since Paris.

“Up, princess. Let daddy braid your hair.” He tugged her collar a little which earned a gasp from her, though it was a combination between the sensation on her neck and realization on what she did wrong, “Daddy i—“

“Shh, up.” He cuts you off before you could mutter an apology, or several apologies. You should’ve known better, if he told you to be on position, what he always meant is for you to be on your knees by the bench, with your hair untied specifically because he likes to braid you before play time, and today you’ve put your hair up, completely forgetting a clear important rule. Matthew helped you get on your shaky feet, as you trembled a little, whispering a small, “thank you daddy.” Before facing the bench, back toward him so he could process on your hair.

“Tell daddy why he’s punishing you tonight.” He hummed behind her, fingers expertly tangle and untangle through her hair, looping each side to the center as he formed a perfect braid from the top of her hair and making his way down. “Because i forgot daddy’s rule.” You muttered shakily, voice laced with regrets at yourself for disappointing daddy.

“Which rule is it, pup?” His voice seemed so close now, she could practically feel his warm breath against her skin that she zoned out for a moment before a tug on her hair brought her back, “I— i didn’t untie my hair, sir.”

“Why is it important?”

“Because daddy needs to braid my hair, and.. and it teaches me to.. remembers daddy’s rules.” You finished with a sigh, before feeling a soft kiss placed on top of your shoulder blades, “10 with my hands. Go and bend over the bench, bunny.”

—

Y/N braced herself as she felt the stinging, heated sensation smacked across her bottom, making her grip tighten onto the railing bench and her body shakes a little. “F-Five, thank y-you daddy.”

“Color?” Matthew pressed his palm against her stinging skin as he try to soothe the aching pain a bit, it’s true that they both love this— loves the thrill, the pain, and the overall pleasure that comes from this. However, Matthew would never enjoy hurting his bunny without any context, or out of proportion, it might look like he has all the control but they both knows well that she has all the control, if she wants to stop, she knows what she needed to say.

“G-Green sir please.” Oh how he loves the way her voice croaked underneath him, the way she arched her back toward him— as if asking for more, ready for more just as she deserve, as she behaved. So he delivered then, 3 slaps in a row as she cries out between each milliseconds, and sobs out the thank you’s and pleas.

“just two more now, y’think you can take it, petal?” Matthews hand crept up to where your collar snuggly wrapped around your neck, thumbing the soft leather as he makes sure you’re still okay which you confirmed by a ‘yes daddy, please continue’

The last two slaps were unexpected, catching her off guard as it landed way way below where her cunt drips dewy sweet honey, and where her by now— swollen little pearl sits, making her jumps and scream out in a blissed pleasure. “Fuck! oh! nine ten! daddy thank you!”

“Shh shh, come here, good girl.” Matthew gently helped her stand before picking her up bridal style and sit down onto the bed which was installed on their room, his lips were pressed tightly onto her forehead as he soothes her aching skin and mumble calming words. “It’s okay, ‘s all over, such a good girl, little one.”

“Daddy...”

“Yes angel?”

“Do i deserve to cum now?”

“Oh petal, you will be begging to stop cumming later, just you wait.”

—

EXCUSE MY GRAMMARS AND TYPOS, my laptop is not accessible right now so i have to use my phone to write and upload so please bear with me. Thank you, i love you and take care.

Don’t forget to support!❤️

Taglist! (reply or message me if you want to be added or removed)

( @slutforthegubes @maybankslut @midnightsubmissives @bxnnywriting @keentreeoperatorcookie @autisticratty @mjwritesfics @getdevils @muffin-cup @tomsmilkytea @sinnersandsugars @edgycowboy666 @mgg-theprettiestboy @addie5264 @hushfakebitches @bucksgoat )

#spencer reid smut #mgg smut #insufferableblurb #dom!mgg #matthew gray gubler smut #thrilled

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skzfelixity · 3 years

Note

The request I'm about to do OH HONEY ISTG ITS GOING TO SOUND RIDICULOUS AND STOOPID BUT I'LL TRY (maybe a bit long?) So it's basically a Harry Potter X True beauty (Han Seojun) like the reader who has studied in Hogwarts for a while decides that she also wants to experience like the normal muggle school (the reader is a muggle but never got the chance to like go to the normal school and had to go to Hogwarts) so she starts at they school and like Seojun takes an interest in her and they start dating but Seojun still doesn't know that she is like a witch and one day a situation had come up where the reader was with Seojun and she like HAD to use her wand. She likes starts telling him about her Hogwarts house (mine is Gryffindorput you can pick which everyou want💕), like the wand, potions, flying brooms, Diagonally and stuff. PLEASE THIS REQUEST SOUNDS STUPID BUT IDK WHY I LIKED IT😭

This idea was so creative, it’s not stupid at all! Plus, I love crossovers. I got so excited to write it and I am a gryffindor too! But hear me out, Hufflepuff!Seojun-

Magical Girl | Han Seojun [True Beauty]

Muggle!Seojun x Gryffindor!Muggle Born!Reader | Harry Potter AU

Summary: You decide to leave hogwarts and attend a school full of muggles. Meeting a very interesting muggle, you find yourself falling for him. No one knew about your secret until you had to help your boyfriend.

Warnings: none

You liked Hogwarts, you really did. Your friends, teachers and the places were amazing but you felt the need to attend a muggle school before graduating. It would be your 6th year if you didn’t leave. Your parents were so glad to have you back, you could spend everyday together. They didn’t have the chance to see you grow, at least they will be by your side for the rest of your school years. You missed them too and the friends you’ve lost since you left for Hogwarts.

You used to meet up with your old friends from elementary school when you came back home for holidays but after your 3rd year you stopped talking to each other. No particular reason, it’s normal for friends to drift away without realising it. According to your parents, they didn’t live here anymore so you surely had no one familiar to look forward to.

The day to go to school quickly came. You wore your Gryffindor scarf around your neck, it felt weird not wearing your usual robe that you were so fond of. Well there’s always Haloween for that, don’t worry. Your wand was inside your right boot, there was a risk of it breaking but you took it anyway. You weren’t going to leave the wand alone at home, that’s way more dangerous than having it with you.

You made your way through the hallway, girls and boys stepping aside for you to walk pass them. You didn’t really pay attention to their looks of jealousy and admiration since you were too caught up in the thought of your backpack being heavy. You didn’t really need to carry a bag at Hogwarts so this was new to you as well. Seojun, who was munching on his milk bread, wondered what all this fuss was about.

“Did you see the new girl?”

“Yeah, she is really pretty!”

New girl? He got his hopes up at the mention of a new student. He had been waiting for a girl who would finally interest him, could this be his lucky day? Nah, he told himself to not overreact but when he saw you, oh god, butterflies. His stomach did a double back flip twice. You were for sure the prettiest girl he had laid his eyes on.

He complained to his mom yesterday about not liking anyone from school, coincidence? I think not.

He rushed to you, fashion model catwalk and hands in his pockets. “Hello there,” he smirked at your surprised face. Well, you didn’t expect anyone to talk to you that fast. You got nervous because someone talked to you, that someone was a guy, a really tall and handsome guy. You managed to greet him back, your hands gripping tightly on your backpack, which seemed to be getting heavier and heavier.

Seojun obviously noticed how uncomfortable you were and got the backpack off your shoulders in order to slide it to his shoulder, “Let me help.”

Taken aback by his kindness, you stopped walking. Seojun panicked when he didn’t see you walking beside him, too afraid that he invaded your personal space. He needed to play it cool though.

“Oh right, I didn’t introduce myself,” he turned to you and gave you a small smile, “Han Seojun.”

You stepped closer to him, shaking the hand he had out for you, “Y/N L/N.”

“Nice scarf, by the way.” You thanked him with a shy grin. The scarf meant a lot more to you than he knew and you didn’t expect anyone to compliment you on it. Everyone was more focused on your face but he wasn’t and that was what made him stand out. You led the way, letting him carry your bag until you reach your classroom.

“My desk is that one in the back. No one is sitting on my right so,” He winked at you as he handed you your bag. You thought that wink was the hottest and cutest thing combined. You were too affected by it to hear the teacher entering and calling your name, “Y/N?”

Your head snapped at the teacher’s direction, your cheeks turning pink. Seojun chuckled at you, he noticed the affect his wink had on you and noted to try it again later.

You ended your speech, everyone clapped and told you how pretty you looked. You sat in the back, next to Seojun. You turned to look at him, only to find him looking at you already. “What?”

He shook his head and looked at the board ahead of him. There was just something different about you, he could feel it. He wanted to find out what that something was and get to know you better. Great, you’re stuck with a goofy simp.

You found yourself falling for him and you started pushing him away once you realised. Dating a muggle was something that you never had to worry about but now you were stressing over it. It wasn’t like he liked you back, he had a lot of people that would love to hang out with him but he chose you. He walked you home almost everyday, he ate lunch with you, he bought you snacks and he was always by your side. These were enough to assume that he had a crush on you.

You looked at him as he fooled around with Chorong in the hallway. You definitely have a crush on this boy too but you were scared at the thought of dating him. You were different from others and dating a muggle was more difficult than it sounded.

You needed to know if he really liked you though. The question was bothering your chest, maybe because you liked him a lot. You dragged him away from his friends, finding somewhere quiet to talk.

“What are you doing?” Seojun raised an eyebrow at you. You never approached him so it felt weird, he always talked to you first. Let’s just say his heart was about to explode. You slammed him on the wall, making his eyes widen. He couldn’t have done something to make you mad. Then why did you seem mad?

Your expression softened, realising that you didn’t dragged him here to use avada kedavra on him but to ask him if he liked you.

“Do you like me?” You looked into his eyes, watching him relax as the question fell out of your mouth.

“You scared me, I thought I did something wrong!” He let out a sigh of relief and placed a hand on his heart. You must have been a little intimidating but you couldn’t help it. The whole thought of liking and dating him had been eating you away for some weeks now. You were angry at the fact that you couldn’t be completely open with your significant other. That’s why you avoided him, you didn’t want to have feelings for him.

“And yes, I like you,” he admitted as if it wasn’t a big deal. With your assumptions proved right, you turned to leave. One part of you wanted to stay and ask him out but the othert told you to run away. However, Seojun stopped you from doing so, “I know you don’t like me back but you shouldn’t just leave like that.”

You froze and turned to face him. He really thought that you didn’t like him, that was your plan anyway. You managed to keep your feelings to yourself but it didn’t feel right. Pushing all of the fears and doubts aside, you impulsively decided to tell him how you felt too. It would only be fair if you were as honest as you could be with him, “I actually like you too.”

He didn’t believe what he heard. All the time you pushed him away, told him to leave you alone and not bother you meant that you liked him? He didn’t understand other people’s feelings anyway but that was far away than what your actions told him.

You started dating, spending more time together. Dating him wasn’t as hard as it seemed before, he was a gentleman after all. Your worries grew bigger though, what if he found out that you were a witch? What if he found out and break up with you? You had to push those thoughts away to be able to enjoy time with him. You should focus on him, you will worry when the time comes.

You were walking home from school, hand in hand. You were talking about your day and how boring classes were when you heard a cat meowing. You tried to find where the sound came from. Seojun nudged your side and pointed at a tree near you, a white cat was stuck on a branch. “Should we call-”

“Don’t bother, I can save it,” Seojun walked to the tree with you following behind him. When he was about to climb up the tree, you grabbed his shoulder, “It’s dangerous, you will get hurt.”

“it’s okay, I got it,” he started climbing up the tree, which was a kinda tall one. As he was about to grab the branch, his other hand slipped. You were prepared with your wand behind your back, there was no way he would climb up there safely.

“Arresto Momentum!” You yelled out with your wand in hand. Seojun was prepared to hit the ground but he didn’t feel anything. He opened his eyes to see that the ground was a few inches away from him. “I got it my ass,” you let him down slowly, making sure to not hurt him. Seojun’s eyes were wide open and they landed on the wand in your hand. “How did you do that?”

“I am a witch,” you straight up told him. There was no point in finding excuses, he saw everything after all. As he took his time to process what you said, you rescued the cat using your wand.

“A w-witch?” He didn’t say anything for a long time so you expected him to run away but you were far wrong from it.

“That’s so cool! Can you teach me too?” He stood up from the ground and ran to you. You chuckled at him, relieved that he wasn’t weirded out or frightened by you. You had been worrying for nothing. “I can’t teach you dumbo, I can tell you about the world of magic though.”

He nodded his head enthusiastically and sat under the tree that the cat was stuck on a few minutes ago. You sighed and sat down, this was going to be a long evening.

“Letters to attend Hogwarts, the school of Witchcraft and Wizardry are sent to kids who are considered magical when they reach the age of 11. Neither my mother or my father are wizards so we were really confused when I received mine. They were reluctant to let me go there but I ended up going. I don’t regret it even though I spent all my years there apart from holidays, I learnt a lot.”

Seojun was carefully listening at you, curious about the new world he had learned about. “You lived there?”

“Yes, Hogwarts is divided into 4 houses. Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. I am a Gryffindor!” You smiled proudly at the memories with your friends and all the wins in Quidditch your house had got. “Each house has its own colour, animal and values.”

“Which house would I be in?” Seojun asked you, the excitement in his eyes was so clear. You had known him for a while now and you have thought about his Hogwarts house a lot. “Most likely Hufflepuff,” even though you weren’t the sorting hat, you were sure Hufflepuff would be his house. “It values loyalty, justice, patient and hard work. Its colours are canary yellow and black.”

“I would love to go to Hogwarts, it sounds like an amazing place!”

“It really is. There is also Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Diagon Alley is a shopping area. There are restaurants, shops and you can get all the supplies you need for Hogwarts from there. Hogsmeade is a village, where we go for our school trips. It has everything your stomach desires! I love the sweets there.” You laughed at the memory of one of your friends stuffing their mouth with sweets from Zonko’s Joke and having a stomachache the next day.

“Do you think I can go there?” He asked definitely hoping for a positive answer. He sulked as you shook your head, “Muggles are not allowed.”

“Muggles?” He frowned at the foreign word, liking the way it sounded.

“Normal people, we call you muggles.”

“Aren’t you a muggle too?” His question brought back the memories of others asking you if you were a muggle born. You sometimes envied halfbloods and purebloods. They didn’t have to get teased for being who they are. “I am considered a muggle born.”

He stayed silent as he noticed your change in mood, he will remember to question you later. He desperately tried to find something else to ask so you wouldn’t be thinking about it any longer.

“Do you really fly with brooms?” He was pretty sure that the flying broomsticks was a myth but he couldn’t find something better to ask. Better laugh at him than being upset.

“Yeah, they didn’t let us transport with them in school.” He widen his eyes, so it wasn’t a myth? He was shocked that people for once were right for something they hadn’t seen.

“What a bummer, I bet it would be nice to move around in a broom.” He won’t tell you but he used to ride brooms when he was little, pretending that he was flying. You agreed with him, it would make your feet hurt less for sure. “Can you show me a spell?”

“Someone might see, idiot!” you reminded him and playfully smacked the back of his head. There was no doubt that if he was a wizard, he would have been caught by muggles.

“Right... tell me about your favourite spells then,” he still wanted to learn about spells even though you couldn’t perform them.

“Well I have a lot. There is Lumos, a charm that illuminates the tip of the caster's wand, allowing the caster to see in the dark. There is also the levitation spell, a charm used to make objects fly. I like amortenia, it’s not a spell but a potion. It’s a love potion and it smells differently to people according to who they are attracted to.” You felt so proud being able to explain so much about magic. When you first started learning, you never imagined you would be explaining these to someone.

“Can you make the potion? So we can smell each other...” You laughed at his ears getting red. “I don’t think we need it but I can try,” you caressed his cheek as he blushed more.

“Can I see your wand?” You nodded and handed him your wand. You wouldn’t give it to anyone but you trusted him enough to not break it, he isn’t Ron Weasley. “Do you need wands to cast spells?”

“Not really. However, casting a spell without a wand requires a lot more concentration so we use wands a lot.” You remembered the time when you tried to cast a spell without your wand and made everyone in the room disappear. You never tried it again.

“Are you really fine with me being a witch?” You asked him as he handed you back your wand. He gave you a small smile, “Of course, why would I not be?”

“I don’t know...”

He really liked you, the fact that you were a witch wouldn’t stop him from being with you. “If anything, I like you more now!”

You held his hand and you both stood up to leave. In the end, you had nothing to worry about. He still liked you the same, no changes in his behaviour. Loving this certain muggle definitely made your life easier.

“Do you think our kids will get their letters for Hogwarts?”

“Probab- OUR WHAT?”

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #seojun #han seojun #han seojun x reader #seojun x reader #hwang inyeop #inyeop

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wannabe-fic-writer · 3 years

Text

All Over Again - Chapter 7

Summary: What was lost can be found.

Warning: 18+ Smut, Language, Violence.

Ch. 6

Here’s to hoping everyone has a wonderful Christmas. I know this one’ll be different for most of us if not all, I’m here to chat for any reason, and enjoy the chapter 🎄✨💚❤

Fluffy white falls just outside the window. The wide surrounding field covered in the crystalized ice. Not a single bird is in sight, but just at the forest edge, is a deer.

Going from pushing its nose through the snow, it suddenly looks up. If the compound weren’t so far away, you’d guess it was looking at you.

“Hey, staring out the window isn’t going to get that garland up so chop chop.”

Frown in place, you shove your hand into the box at your feet,“ can’t you like, hire people for this.”

“That’d just make me look like some rich asshole.” Silence passes and Tony’s jaw drops at the look on your face.“ I’m not an asshole Y/Ln.”

“Not as much as before anyway.” Both yours and Tony’s eyes pan to the new presence. Pepper slides a hand across her husband’s back,“ I still love you though.” She kisses his cheek and goes over to help Maria hang mistletoe.

You stick your tongue out at Tony playfully, then turn back to hanging the garland.

With Mister Stark’s annual Christmas party now being on the 23rd(there’s no way he’s not spending Christmas Eve and Christmas with his daughter), the team is decorating the compound. There are already a bunch of inflatable decorations outside along with lights, according to Tony, things aren’t done until the inside is just as festive as the out.

Stepping off the ladder, you pick it and the box up, moving over to the next window so Sam and Bucky can place stickers on the one you just left.

Just before you can get back up your phone buzzes a few times and you pull it out. A smile splitting across your face at the message from Lena, and then dropping at it’s contents.

Obviously you’d invited her to the party, it’s the best excuse you had to see her so soon after having just left. Except now she’s telling you she won’t be able to make it, something came up at work. You sigh and tell her it’s perfectly fine and to have a happy holiday.

The second message has a curiouser frown on your face and you spin around.

Eyes landing at the kitchen doorway where Natasha quirks a brow with a little smirk and nods backwards.

Scanning the common room, as if looking for who she’s actually talking to, you find no one else around you. The playful roll of her eyes and nod tells you she’s talking about you.

You set the garland and tape down and head over. Natasha back steps into the kitchen once you reach her.

“What’s with the clandestine meeting Miss Romanoff?”

The redhead chuckles, back facing you while her hands move in front of her,“ I just wanted you to try this. If it sucks then I probably shouldn’t serve it at the party tonight.”

Before you can ask what she’s talking about, she’s already holding a glass towards you. It’s chilly to the touch and the second you raise it to your face you can smell the mixture of cream and bourbon.

Natasha watches you as you take the first sip, your tongue running along your lips to rid them of the excess cream. Golden green eyes trail the lines of your eyes, cheek, jaw, and back up the other side.

“Maybe a little lighter on the bourbon,” you chuckle, finishing the drink,“ and that’s coming from me.”

Finally focusing on your eyes, Natasha smiles a little,“ where’s the fun in that.”

You raised your eyebrows,“ don’t tell me you’re trying to get everyone drunk Tash, that’s not gonna end well for us you know.”

When you see Natasha’s eyes widen you get a little worried. Her smile drops and her jaw slacks. She’s about to say something but shakes her head instead,“ yeah you’re right. I’ll fix it.” She turns back to the bowl of eggnog in silence.

You don’t get the chance to ask what she means as Wanda calls your name, sliding to a stop at the door and leaning in to look at you,“ mind helping me decorate the tree?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah.” You pull a smile as you turn to face her,“ come on.”

As you walk out, Wanda throws herself on to your back, arms circling your shoulders.

“Your girlfriend coming to the party?” She asks.

Once again you sigh,“ no. She has some business at work she can’t hold off.”

With her being behind you, you can’t see the giddy look on her face,“ is she seriously your girlfriend?”

Honestly you hadn’t even noticed that you didn’t deny it,“ what, no I- Wanda you know she’s not.”

Your best friend jumps from your back with an agreeing statement and the two of you start hanging ornaments on the tree. As you work you talk about the same stuff you usually do: everything and nothing. She’s really excited about Christmas, after spending the last two with Clint’s family you figure the excitement of seeing the kids has rubbed off on her. It always did you.

Whenever you and Natasha went to the farm for the holiday their childlike innocence and excitement brought an insane amount of joy to your hearts. You can’t count the number of times you and Natasha had daydreamt about your own children bringing you that joy.

That’s not exactly how things have gone now though. And you’re starting to feel a lot less upset over it.

By the time all the decorations are up and the place is Stark approved, it’s late enough to get changed. You keep your outfit simple, burgundy sweater and black pants fitting to you exactly how you like. Last thing you want is to be uncomfortable for the hours that this party will last.

“Is-is that my sweater?”

Your gaze snaps up from your shoes to Wanda at your door, you chuckle,“ one: you look great,” her velvet green of the shoulder dress compliments the woman’s eyes and fair skin tone beautifully,“ two: this is my sweater that you stole. I simply stole it back.”

Wanda’s eyes roll, knowing you’re right, as you leave out.

From the sounds of things, a number of people have shown up already, all of them made known as you step into the common room once again.

Familiar faces scatter the room: Happy, Rhodey, Carol, the Guardians, the King and Princess of Wakanda, and a SHIELD recruit team lead by Coulson. Alongside the people who were here before.

“Does Stark ever not invite investors?” The younger woman leans over to ask.

Chuckling, you lead her towards the bar,“ they aren’t investors. They’re a team, like us.”

She nods, leaning against the bar,“ are we the only teams?”

“I have no idea. SHIELD made a lot of quiet moves back in the day. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were some other teams.”

Wanda can’t help but agree. She was never under SHIELD but she figures things are a lot alike under the Avengers themselves, or Cap at least.

Frowning, you finally focus on the bar, that's unattended. Natasha’s usually back there, messing around and avoiding having to socialize for the most part.

“Alright, what’re you having Miss Maximoff?” You ask, rounding the bar and leaning on the top, eyes set on Wanda.

She looks at the wall of liquor with a raised brow, that is until you start to notice the overwhelmed look.

You wave your hand,“ don’t worry I’ll fix you up somethin nice.”

With new intrigue, Wanda watches you fix her a drink. As you’re distracted someone eases into the stool beside Wanda and the younger woman’s eyes widen.

“One vodka and cranb-” The drink in your hand jostles as you stop abruptly.

You can’t begin to describe the pure joy that spreads through you at the sight of her. So much joy in fact that you don’t even stop yourself from setting the drink down and rounding the bar to her. Lena quickly accepts the hug you offer, a bright smile of her own spreading.

It’s not missed on anyone how equally happy she is to see you or the way she buries her face in your neck or how your hold on her tightens.

As Wanda watches with a broad smile, across the room Natasha frowns.

Despite what she’d told you in the gym weeks ago, something stirs inside her.

She finds herself thinking. Alongside a sudden rush of memories: your arms around her almost exactly like that, your lips secretly pressing to her neck before you pull away. Just as your hug with Lena breaks, Natasha finds herself wondering if you’d secretly kissed the CEO’s neck.

You have to bite your lip to stop the smitten smile from growing. Once your thoughts calm, you go back around the bar,“ anything I can get you?”

A thought flicker’s through her mind that has her face turning bright red,“ my usual if you have it.”

With a nod and mock salute, you get to work making her a glass of red wine.

“Miss Luthor,” Tony approaches the bar, champagne in hand as he leans on her other side,“ you come all the way out here for our sweet little Y/n?”

The drink you’d just made damn near drops from your hand and you snort, holding back a laugh. Sweet little Y/n? You wouldn’t exactly describe yourself as that.

Silver green eyes look at you, a smile on her lips,“ she’s worth the slight jet lag.”

Her comment makes you smile and you lean forward just a little, your fingers brushing.

“Y/Ln workin the bar!” The groups eyes fall on the two men walking up, Sam leaning at the very end of the bar and Bucky stopping beside him.“ This either really good or really bad.”

Smirking at the man, you pick up the drink mixer and set to making something he couldn’t possibly deny. Pouring a combination of juices and liquor together, you cap it and shake, then pouring the mix over ice and sliding it to Sam.

His eyes narrow at you as he lifts the glass. Those brown eyes quickly widening,“ oh I’m going to need another one.”

That’s how you find yourself tending the bar for majority of the night, Lena and Wanda maintaining their positions there with you. While your team does hang around the area a lot, they make sure to step away every so often.

Still though you end up being teased not long after. Having known you for years, the team. . . your family can tell how you feel about Lena with ease. The amount of attention you pay to her, the smile on your lips, the questions you answer, and your reactions to everything she says.

“I- no, that never happened. I think I’d remember if I fell off a stage!” You tell everyone as they laugh at the story Lena’s telling.

Maybe you’d gotten a little too drunk at karaoke night with the superfriends, maybe not. According to Lena, you and Winn serenaded the friends and you tripped off stage. Either way you can’t remember.

“With the number of shots Winn and Mon-El gave you I don’t you remember anything at all.” She laughs.

You open your mouth to argue but truthfully, she’s most likely right. Sighing in defeat, you lean on crossed arms on the bar,“ at least tell me the serenade was good.”

“It was perfect.”

A long gaze holds between you two, small smiles on your lips.

The thought hits you suddenly: you haven’t had a moment alone with Lena yet. As much as you love seeing her get along with your family, you’d really like a minute with her. So you nod to Wanda who’s quick to mouth ‘tell her’ to you.

You sigh and shake your head, a quiet part of you contemplating it, then turning to Lena,“ hey, you mind stepping away with me for a moment?”

The CEO is quick to nod, her hand slipping into the one you offer her. And you definitely feel eyes on you as you walk off with her.

Your heart speeds up in your chest as her hand remains in hers.

“Where, pray tell, are you taking me?” She asks, keeping her voice quiet even though no one is around.

Pursing your lips, a sheepish smile forms,“ honestly I’m not sure I just wanted to talk.”

Her eyebrows raise a little,“ what about?” She asks with a slightly tilted head.

“Oh, uh I-” Mentally you curse yourself.

How is it that you can take down HYDRA goons, Cartel bosses, and enhanced persons with natural ease? Yet talking to Lena makes you feel like some lovestruck child. You’ve interrogated men the size of trucks but can’t seem to ask this beauty a simple set of questions.

Stopping, she rests a hand on your forearm,“ Y/n, you can tell me anything, really.”

You can’t help but free fall into the comfort and reassurance of those green eyes. Mouth dry all of a sudden, you clear your throat and swallow,“ I guess, you know, I was wondering a-about you and James.” When her hand slips from you, you hasten to clear it up,“ I’m sorry, you don’t have to reply to that, I-”

“We used to date.” Lena speaks, gaze trained on her shoes,“ though, that ended a while ago.”

Hearing that makes that thought in your head a little louder. Out of all the things stopping you from telling Lena how you feel, her possibly being with James is no longer one of them.

You nod. After a bit of hesitance, you grab her hand, the warmth spreading up your arm, across your chest, and straight to your heart. Looking at your smile, makes Lena smile as well. You desperately want to keep that expression on her face so you opt to change the subject.

“I’m really glad you made it.”

The two of you turn to keep walking, Lena good naturedly bumping her shoulder against yours,“ I would’ve regretted not coming. And your company is much better than the work I left behind.”

You grimace,“ I can’t say I hope it wasn’t important cause I know it was but-”

“You’re more important.”

Just like before you halt, right foot skidding to a stop beside your left, as your hand tightens around Lena’s. Honesty swirls in green orbs and you can’t pretend you haven’t already fallen in love with her.

Merely a few months and she’s captured your heart. Is that not something a person has the right to know? You’ve entrusted her with such a precious part of you and the chances of her breaking it are high. What you don’t know is how much higher the chances of her cherishing are. But you resolve that you’re willing to risk almost anything to find out.

“Lena, there’s-” god why are you tearing up, why is it suddenly a little harder to breathe. If there’s any chance of you telling her it can’t be here.

So you take her to the one safe space you’ve always had at the compound. Lena follows, curiously silent as you tow her to the elevator and ride it up to the second highest floor. A set of stairs take you to your final destination.

The second the brisk New York air hits you inhale, it’s thin sure but it does wonders to calming you. After two, deep, steadying breaths, you fully face the brunette woman. E/c bores into green as you say a silent prayer that this doesn’t implode around you.

“You are in no way obligated to reply to this nor reciprocate, unless of course you feel so inclined.” She frowns at your words and you continue,“ I like you. I mean I love you. And not in the way that I love Winn or Kara or Wanda, I- I want to be with you Lena. You are so goddamn brilliant and caring. Your will to give and help without receiving so much as a nod of recognition is so inspiring.”

When tears shine in Lena’s eyes you understand why you’d teared up moments ago. Emotions like these can be so beautifully overwhelming. Something felt so strongly can only be expressed in a number of ways and tears just so happens to be one of those ways.

Reaching up, you brush the stray tear from her rosy cheek, feeling the cold skin under the pad of your thumb,“ I don’t know much about how the universe works but falling for you feels inevitable.”

“Y/n,” Lena’s hand cups yours over her cheek, both your hearts are pounding, beating the same rhythm for the same reasons,“ I-” you inhale,“ I love you too.” Your exhale fans across the CEO’s red lips right before they crash onto yours.

A tidal wave of happiness washes over you. The warmth of her hand, of her body against yours, it pales in comparison to the heat that her lips bring. Heads tilt in the slightest to allow for a deeper kiss, a longer exchange of emotions and passion.

God if you didn’t have to breathe you’d hold her there forever.

Funnily enough, just as quickly as you pull away, you’re falling back in. Lena’s fingers now gliding gently into the hairs at your nape as yours grip her waist.

Whatever reasons you’d come up with opposing this have long since vanished, seemingly taken away with the rush of wind past you. The fact that you denied yourself the pleasure of this for so long in baffling.

Faces flushed from the cold and this very moment, you and Lena pull apart. Winter’s air makes it just a little harder to catch your breaths. Cold and warm air mixes in the space between you as your foreheads rest against each other.

Both of you need a minute. Not necessarily to process, no this moment is very much real and you both know it. The silence, this pause, it’s needed so as to prolong it. Despite the flurry of snow and wind, you both have to stay in this moment for as long as possible.

If this were a movie, this scene is exactly what every watcher would be waiting for. The crescendo that draws the two lovers together. The rising of their friendship and the climax of what’s to come.

“I love you,” you whisper into the silence.

Lena smiles, a full, euphoric grin splits across her face.“ I love you too.”

How could she not? The way you came into her life, well, the way she stepped into yours honestly, was entirely unexpected. Clicking with you in the way she had was equally as special as it was common.

Lena’s had a number of partners, multiple people who she could formulate and execute an idea with. Something about you though, working with you, brainstorming and creating, it felt like so much more than just the project. Her zeal for her career was never lost. You coming along though, it was as if a power core had been struck by lightning. All that was, now amplified in the best way possible.

Out of everyone in the banquet hall that night she found you. Whatever it was(definitely your reply to Mister Richards routine flirting) drew her in and everything you are, who you are, kept her there. And she’s so incredibly glad she stayed.

The woman curses herself when a shiver wracks her body.

Your soft hands run up and down her arms, warming them and raising goosebumps all at the same time,“ come on, let’s not freeze to death.” You tease.

“I’d hate for that to happen before we’ve even been on date.” She teases back.

Both of you shudder when the warmth inside the building engulfs you, but you’d been outside a little longer than you should’ve. The heating works but you need a faster relief.

So you guide her through the halls to your room. You walk in, the door closing slowly as Lena follows, her eyes taking in the space.

Truthfully it’s not exactly what she expected. While it’s not like the room is a mess or anything, Lena can tell that this is definitely where you spend majority of your time.

Not only is it obvious that you’ve brought your work in here a number of times(little gadgets and small tools splayed across the surface of your desk and dresser), there’s a trash can full of snack wrappers and water bottles, and an article or two of clothing on the floor.

“Sorry about the mess,” you say, quick to tidy everything up,“ me and Wanda had a sleepover last night and I hadn’t had the chance to clean up yet.”

With a nod she walks over to the desk, fingers running over the weapon parts there, some glowing and some not,“ for a moment there I thought you were a mess.” She says.

Laughing, you look back at her,“ I’m the most orderly mess you’ll ever find.”

“I’m sure of it.”

You make quick work of fishing another sweater from your closet. The soft knitted material equally as cute as it is comfortable. With a smile you hand it to Lena and a blush resurfaces as she thanks you.

A part of you, a very very big part, wants to stay in here with Lena for the rest of the night. But your team is still here and there is still a party going on.

“Guess we should head back, last thing we want is a bunch of Avengers and government agents thinking something happened to us.” You say, holding a hand out.

Lena slips hers into yours, fingers lacing together with ease as she stands.

In a moment you can’t resist, you face her, and lean down to plant yet another kiss on her lips. The feeling is quickly becoming intoxicating, a drug you’ll gladly give yourself to, no questions.

With that kiss, you leave out, her hand still in yours. A fact Wanda notices almost instantly.

Your best friend smiles at you brightly as you approach and you shake your head,“ don’t say it.”

She lays a hand on your shoulder, lips pursed in a ‘sorry not sorry’ kind of way,“ I told you so.”

“I know I know.” You roll your eyes good naturedly,“ I should’ve listened to the all knowing Wanda Maximoff.”

The younger woman chuckles, smile turning genuine and serious,“ you deserve this.”

You nod and shortly hug her, a little kiss pressed to her hair.

“And now I have to tell Kara.” She slides from her seat, phone suddenly in her hand, and fingers flying across the screen.

“Wait-” Lena frowns.

“Since when do you and Kara t-”

Wanda throws a dismissive hand up as she steps away,“ I need someone to talk to about this. Obviously.”

Your mouth opens, unspoken words falling short as you sigh. You shouldn’t have expected anything less from the two women.“ I have a feeling those two aren’t going to let either of us hear the end of this.”

Kara and Wanda had to watch from the sidelines as you and Lena pined after each other and now that you’re taking steps towards something more serious they can finally speak to both yours and Lena’s obliviousness.

“I agree.” Her hand squeezes yours,“ it’ll be worth it though.”

Just as you had Wanda, with a different love behind it, you kiss Lena’s head. Only for the CEO to quickly kiss your cheek.

She’s not usually one for PDA but this, with you, it’s new and she’s loving it. A few out of character kisses is the least she could do. And they certainly happen a few more times through the night, a little more frequently as the crowd dwindles down.

Eventually it’s down to your team, Pepper, Rhodey, Maria, and Lena. All of you take up a spot on the common room couches. Most of the guys are nursing beers, Lena, Pepper, and Natasha sipping from wine glasses, and the rest of you drinking water.

As tradition had been set, each of you have one singular present in your laps. Since it’s likely you all won’t be together Christmas Eve or day, you decided years ago to do Secret Santa and open the presents together the night before.

Sam is currently gushing over the gun you’d made him. After he saw you using the first model during a mission he begged for one, with your added power effects of course. At the time you told him no but decided it’d make a good gift.

“Don’t say I never gave you nothin.” You tease him.

He presses a hand to his heart, wide brown eyes staring at you gratefully,“ you’re the best.”

You shrug, leaning back into the couch, arm brushing Lena’s,“ I know.”

Next up was Natasha. The small box in her lap had more than a few of you curious.

She shifts in her seat, not a fan of all the attention on her. The quicker she opens it, the quicker you all look away. Her fingers tear the wrapping paper away and she freezes at whatever’s underneath.

Literally everyone else freezes the second Bruce stands from his spot beside her and kneels. He grabs the gift from her lap, a small velvet box sitting in his hand, as the other grabs Natasha.

“Nat.” The name leaves his lips nervously, his smile matching,“ I know things between us seemed, unrealistic, in the beginning. It seemed everything was against us all at once. But we were given another chance two years ago and I’ve fallen more in love with you every second that’s passed since.”

Quiet sniffles come from a number of people in the room but you can’t bring yourself to look away from Natasha. A blank expression sits on your face and not a soul can tell what you’re thinking. And honestly it’s far too much in your head to even begin to answer that if asked.

“Will you, Natasha Romanoff, do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

Bruce’s question seems to pull the ex-assassin from whatever reverie she’s in. Green, teary eyes, rise from her lap. Moving right past Banner and landing on you.

A gentle squeeze to your hand grabs your attention and your gaze shifts, flicking from Natasha to Lena. Lighter green eyes stare back, full of concern and wonder, a soft unspoken question of ‘are you okay’ in them.

The corner of your lips tug up in the slightest and you nod, then looking back to Natasha and Bruce. Oddly enough, the redhead is still looking at you. A small, genuine, smile on your lips makes her eyes widen unnoticeably to anyone else.

Just as you, a whirlwind of thoughts are in Natasha’s head, all focusing on you and the brunette man in front of her. She finally looks down to him.

Bruce’s nervous smile and loving brown eyes sends her heart fluttering in a familiar way. Despite the confusion in her head, Natasha nods,“ yes.”

Gleefully, the ring is taken out and slid onto her finger. Once again her gaze flicks to you but back just as quickly. Bruce kisses her and you look away from the passionate moment, even as everyone else cheers.

A round of congratulations circles the group. While you contribute to it, your thoughts still run wild.

It seems you and Lena aren’t the only ones stepping into a more serious relationship. Natasha and Bruce are now engaged.

Merry Fucking Christmas!

* * * * * *

Taglist: @username23345 @depressed-bi-bitch @fayhar @trikruismybitch @marvel-wlw @aznblossom @chicken-wang09 @bitchtits15 @coxmicbabygirl @blackluthxr @aaron-despair @cpt-bolter @vxidnik

#lena luthor #lena luthor x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x you #dcu #dcu x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert #all over again

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tuanyiems · 3 years

Text

Ice Choco

Yugyeom x Reader (f) fluff x smut words: 4k plot: you’re nervous about spending the holidays with his parents, but you should be more nervous about the boy who can’t seem to take his hands off of you, established relationship!au christmas!au warnings – fingering, teasing, slow sex, unprotected sex, creampie, this one’s extra fluffy I think, it’s Christmas after all :’) a/n – Christmas came early hehe enjoy! part of Le Chocolatier drabble series, which you can find the masterlist for in my blog. feel free to read this as a one-shot or part of the series, in any order you want <3

You smile fondly at the twinkling fir tree, golden lights and sparkling red bulbs drape over its forest green body. Chocolate squares wrapped in silver foil that you and Yugyeom had hand wrapped yourselves hang on red ribbons throughout the tree. You pluck one off and pop it into your mouth. The peppermint chocolate melts on your tongue, coating your mouth in sweetness.

When Yugyeom first invited you to join his family for the holidays, you were anxious. It hadn’t even been three months since you started dating. You wondered if you were moving too fast. Would his family judge you? Would Yugyeom realize how awkward of a person you were? Would you be left sad and alone on your favorite holiday?

It was only after plenty of reassurance from Yugyeom that you decided to just go for it. You liked Yugyeom, a lot, and despite the short time you’ve been dating, every day has been full of happiness. And if his family was anything like Yugyeom, you would probably like them too.

And that’s how you found yourself here, in the Kim’s living room on Christmas Eve. Unlike what you had imagined, his parents welcomed you with open arms. You learned exactly where Yugyeom got his warmth and kindness.

And as if this moment couldn’t be more picturesque, a full moon hung in the night sky like a shining ornament.

“Pretty,” Mrs. Kim interjected, stepping beside you.

“It is,” you smile, looking out the window.

“No, I was talking about you dear,” she grins, squeezing your arm.

“O-oh,” you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat.

Laughing, Mrs. Kim tilts her head back the same way Yugyeom laughs when he’s teasing you. “Aren’t you a cutie! Yugyeom did good finding you.”

“T-thanks,” you sputter, not sure what to do with yourself. You fix at the red plaid pajamas the Kim’s gifted you with this morning. “I’m glad you invited me…or, well, I don’t know if you invited me. I don’t know if you knew about me. Maybe Yugyeom just brought me without notice. Oh, I hope he didn’t-”

Giggling, Mrs. Kim pulls you into a side hug.

“Sorry,” you apologize, taking a deep breath. “What I mean is, you’ve been so nice. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you and your whole family. Really, thank you.”

“Not at all,” Mrs. Kim scrunches her nose, smiling. “It’s nice to have another woman in the house. Tomorrow, my daughter-in-law will be joining us too!”

“I can’t wait to meet her and your eldest son!” You agree, “I’ve heard so many great things from Yugyeom.”

She nods, giving your arm another squeeze. “Yeah, Yugyeom dotes on his brother so much. But until then, you can use Euigyeom’s old bedroom. I’ve prepared fresh sheets so you can get a good night’s sleep.”

“Fresh sheets won’t feel as cozy as my bedsheets though,” Yugyeom interrupts, coming up beside his mother.

Your eyes widen at his comment.

Mrs. Kim frowns, slapping Yugyeom on the arm. “No babies until you two get married!”

Yugyeom laughs at his mom and when he sees your mortified face, laughs even harder. You aren’t even sure which part of her sentence to be more flustered about—the fact that his mom just insinuated you two possibly having sex under her roof or that you’ve been dating for less than three months and she was already considering marriage!

Your skin feels like hot lava and you wonder if you might even hive up from embarrassment. That would be a first.

“Oh, I think we broke her,” his mom chuckles.

“Honey,” Mr. Kim interrupts, resting his hands over Mrs. Kim’s shoulders. “Let’s head to bed and let the young one’s talk.”

He sends you a wink before ushering his wife into their bedroom. When you hear their door shut, you let out a sigh, shoulders slumping. Yugyeom chuckles softly beside you, patting you on the back.

“I told you, you had nothing to worry about,” he says. “My parents love you already. I think they love you more than they love me.”

“Impossible!” you scrunch your nose, but your lips curl up anyways. “This afternoon when I was helping your mom in the kitchen, she kept talking about all the awards you won in high school. Class president, co-president of the dance club, winner of the youth dance competition. How come you never talk about dance? What else are you hiding from me?”

Yugyeom’s eyes crinkle into half moon shapes. “I also won first prize in the science fair in primary school,” he grins, winking at you playfully. “Your man made a pretty mean volcano back in the day.”

“Oh wow, a volcano? That beats the boy I dated for his solar system model,” you joke.

He smirks, putting his arm around you, “Definitely an upgrade, babe.”

“Tomorrow, I’ll ask to see the baby photos,” you tease, leaning into his embrace as you poke his chest.

Yugyeom tilts his head cockily to the side. “Not to brag, but I was a pretty cute baby. Just a warning, but you might fall in love with me.”

You roll your eyes. A little too late for that, you think to yourself, but that is a confession for another day.

“We should probably clean up and head to bed soon,” you smile, pulling away.

“Don’t wanna see Santa?” he teases.

You chuckle, clearing the living room of the abandoned mugs and plates with the exception of one plate of chocolate chip cookies. “I think it’s cute that your mom still keeps out cookies.”

He smiles, helping you empty the dishes into the sink. “Back when we were kids, they’d wake up at midnight and eat the cookies too.”

Lips jutting out, you stare at Yugyeom with big doe eyes, completely endeared. He glances at you before chuckling and slipping on the bright pink dishwashing gloves.

“On the downside, I got bullied for being the only kid in the neighborhood who still believed in Santa,” he adds.

“Aww, poor baby,” you coo, brushing the stray hair out of his eyes. “Tell me their names, I’ll go beat them up for you.”

“Bambam,” he quips making you laugh.

“Sorry, Gyeom, you’re on your own.”

He chuckles. “S’alright, I had my mom fight that battle.”

You let out a deep breath, leaning your elbows on the center island of the kitchen and admire Yugyeom from behind. He’s only in a plain grey t-shirt and matching red plaid pajama pants, and yet, he still looks handsome. Your eyes travel across his broad back. There is the faint hint of his tattoo underneath the thin cotton material.

When you first saw Yugyeom’s back tattoo, you were surprised but also found it very fitting. Black ink bled wings across his shoulder blades. In a way, Yugyeom came into your life like an angel. Your guardian angel, he liked to joke, saving others from your clumsiness.

You scoff at the memory, making Yugyeom turn to you with narrowed eyes.

“What are you snickering about back there?”

“Nothing!” you squeak, pursing your lips together like a child caught red handed.

He looks at you for a moment longer before turning back to the dishes, smiling to himself.

“I was just thinking,” you finally add after a pause. “I really enjoy the relationship you have with your parents.”

You watch his shoulders lift and you imagine he’s smiling. “Yeah, they’re my best friends,” he tells you over the sound of the running faucet.

“I’m jealous,” you confess softly. You assume he doesn’t hear you.

Unlike Yugyeom, you grew up in a strict household. The only memories you have of your biological father were all associated with fear and while you got along with your mother, you weren’t exactly close either. Of course, the two of you loved each other as most families did, but after experiencing a marriage of struggle, as soon as you were of legal age, your mom went off to chase her own freedom. Back in your late teens, this had put a strain in your relationship, but now that you are older, with your perspective matured, you grew to understand your mom and you’re glad that she’s found a happier life of her own.

Now, the two of you can talk openly about the ups and downs of adulthood and womanhood and everything in between.

But this was why you weren’t spending the holidays with your own family. The two of you had decided a few years back that New Year’s would be for family, Christmas is for love and adventure.

You watch as your love and adventure turns off the faucet and shakes the pink gloves off his arms. “Done!” he declares triumphantly, turning to you now.

“Looks like you’re going to make the nice list this year,” you compliment, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins down at you, “How about you sneak into my room and we can both make the naughty list.”

Your eyes widen, feeling your cheeks flush at the thought. Yugyeom laughs, throwing his head back.

“I’m just kidding, don’t have a heart attack!”

Slapping his chest, you pout. “Let’s go to sleep. I’m going to need the energy to deal with you tomorrow.”

But when your head finally sinks into the fresh sheets Mrs. Kim had prepared for you, sleep never comes. After washing up and saying goodnight to Yugyeom, it was like all the exhaustion washed away too. You are wide awake when the clock hits midnight.

It’s probably because you’re in a new environment. It’s been a while since you last slept in a stranger’s bed. You haven’t even slept at Yugyeom’s place yet! You always go home before it gets too late, or it’s him staying at yours.

Anyways, the nerves of meeting Yugyeom’s family along with the new environment and the thrill of Christmas combined is probably what’s keeping you up.

Sitting up in bed, you decide to fix up a warm drink. That should calm you, right?

Slipping out of bed, you sneak out of your bedroom on tiptoes, twisting the doorknob so slowly one might think you’ve been frozen. One thing about the Kim’s house is how eerily quiet the whole place is. Unlike your apartment where everything seemed to buzz—the fridge, the walls, the ceiling, you name it—this house was cloaked in silence.

It feels like an eternity when you finally get the door open big enough to walk through. Looking both ways in the dark hallway, you make a turn and tiptoe your way into the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, you flick the island lights on, casting a dim spotlight at the center of the room. You squint, eyes adjusting to the lights before making your way towards the cabinets.

Helping Mrs. Kim with dinner this evening had paid off. You were already familiar with the kitchen setup.

Plucking a hot chocolate packet between two fingers, you swivel back to the island to boil the water. Pouring the brown powder into a mug, you let out a breath, waiting for the water to boil.

In the open window across from you, you are delighted to find a flurry of white illuminated by the dim light of a single lamppost. The snowflakes fall in fat clumps, as if in slow motion. The quiet realization that you will have a white Christmas after all, brings a soft smile to your lips.

“Hello, Santa,” a sudden voice breaks the silence, making you jump up in a silent shriek.

Standing in the shadows, at the doorway of the kitchen is a very amused Yugyeom, his hands clasped around his mouth to muffle his laughter.

“You scared me!” you whisper yell, one hand on your beating chest.

“Sorry,” he apologizes, not at all sorry, as he walks to your side behind the island. “What are you doing up anyways?”

“Making hot chocolate,” you explain, hands coming to fix at his bed head. “I couldn’t fall asleep. Want one?”

You’re already grabbing another packet from the cabinet before he can answer you.

“I can make you an ice choco,” you smile up at him, eyes forming crescents. They look shinier under the lights. He feels a flutter in his stomach.

Smiling quietly, Yugyeom nods. For a moment, the two of you stand in easy silence. Only the sound of the water boiler can be heard. Yugyeom’s eyes follow where yours are staring and his heart warms. You look so happy, it’s endearing. You must be the only person in this city who hasn’t been jaded from the snowstorms that hit every winter.

Coming from behind, Yugyeom wraps you in his arms, bending to rest his chin in the crook of your shoulder.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers into your ear, gazing out at the falling snow.

“Merry Christmas,” you reply, turning, you hold his face in one palm and press a kiss to his cheek. He squeezes you tighter in his arms.

When the water boiler clicks off, water now hot and bubbling, you move to grab it but Yugyeom holds you tight, pulling you closer to his chest. You giggle softly, tilting your head at him curiously. He answers you with cold fingers sliding underneath your shirt. It sends you shivering all over.

“Yugyeom!” you squeak in surprise, making futile attempts to escape his grasp.

“I know something else we could do to get you sleepy,” he whispers, breath on the shell of your ear.

“Y-your parents are right down the hall!” you stutter, gulping back the whimper that threatens to escape your throat.

Yugyeom licks a stripe up the shell of your ear, “And sleeping.” You can feel his smirk against your ear.

“I-w-we can’t,” you whine, unconvincingly.

“But you want to,” he says matter-of-factly, hands sliding up your skin. You feel him inhale when his palms come around the supple flesh of your breasts. “No bra? You naughty girl.”

Your protests catch in your throat when he begins to knead at your breasts, rolling both nipples between his thumbs. You whimper, head falling back onto his shoulder at the sensation. His fingers brush against the sensitive buds gently, barely there. It makes your knees weak and your core throb with want.

Yugyeom presses himself into your back and you can feel him hard against you. “You don’t know how hard it was for me to control myself today. Do you know how many hard ons I had to hide from my parents?”

You break into a smile, grinding your ass harder into him. “Is that why you were hugging that throw pillow all day?”

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” Yugyeom warns, pinching you between his thumbs. “I saw the way you were looking at me. I can read you like a book, baby. Bet you’re already wet.”

Yugyeom presses a kiss to your jawline before sucking down your throat. Your breath skips at the fluttering feeling. “G-gyeom, I-I can’t have hickeys.”

He groans softly against you, biting softly at your jugular before letting go. “You don’t get to call the shots, babe.”

The sternness of his voice makes you whimper, which he catches easily with his own lips on yours. Yugyeom kisses you roughly, tongue overpowering yours just the way you like it. When his hand dips down past the waistband of your pajama pants and panties at once, your eyes fall shut, relishing the sudden intrusion.

“Fucking wet,” he smirks, dipping two fingers between your folds. He gathers your slick, spreading it in circles around your sensitive bud. You whimper, knees going weak.

All too soon though, his hand leaves you, making you whine. He holds his fingers up in the light, admiring the glistening web of arousal. As if practiced, you open your mouth for him and he slides his fingers into your mouth. You whimper at the tang of yourself melting on your tongue.

“Tell me you want me,” he mutters, lids heavy as he slides his fingers in and out of your mouth. You run your tongue around his fingers expertly until you’ve licked him clean.

Yugyeom swallows, watching you suck on his fingers and imagines you sucking other things of his. The very thought makes him shiver. Reluctantly, he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, letting you speak.

“Please Gyeom,” you whine, breathless. “I want you. Need you inside me already.”

It’s music to his ears and he wants to tease you more, but his patience has already run out. Having spent the better half of this day sporting blue balls, Yugyeom just wants to fuck you senseless.

It catches you by surprise when he slips his thumbs down your waistbands and pulls, leaving your ass bare behind the kitchen island. Before you can even feel embarrassed about the sudden exposure, Yugyeom’s finger are back on you, making you whimper while his other hand makes quick work with his own pants and boxers. His cock springs free, red and throbbing.

“You look so delicious like this,” he whispers into your ear, hands squeezing your ass. Oh, how he would have loved to slap your ass until you were red with his fingerprints. Biting his lips, he pushes his dick between your thighs instead.

“Ooh,” you let out a satisfied sigh, your clit rubbing along the length of his cock. Your thighs are soft and warm around his length, it’s unfair, Yugyeom thinks. Your pussy is weeping with desperation, the arousal drips down, coating his dick so that each time he thrusts between your legs, it is deliciously smooth. Everything about your body is heavenly, like it was made for him.

Already, you’re panting, a thick whine straining in your throat. His hot cock rutting between your thighs just teases at your sensitive bud. Your pussy lips clench around nothing and only succeeds in making the ache in your core more despairing.

“Gyeom, please,” you breathe out, hands coming up to run through his hair, your fingers thread around his black strands, before pulling into your fists. Yugyeom enjoys the ache in his scalp.

When he pulls his cock away, you almost yell out loud, lips pouting from the lost sensation. He answers you with a smirk, nudging his foot between yours, he forces your legs apart. Your hands grip at the counter for support, fingers pressing down hard when he slides two fingers into you without warning.

Immediately, you bite at your bottom lip, fighting the moan that threatens to escape you as he dips his fingers into you over and over, stretching at your velvety walls. His fingers are long and practiced, finding the rough, spongy patch inside you quickly.

Your eyes squeeze shut, the ghost of a whimper panting from your lips as he curls his fingers, sending shivers straight to your core. Over and over, he does this, until you’re tightening around his digits. All too soon, your knees are buckling, mind going numb from the sensation.

And then, he pulls out of you.

You gasp, eyes opening wide while Yugyeom chuckles darkly.

Before you can complain, he kisses your temple sweetly. “Not yet, baby,” he whispers soothingly.

You feel Yugyeom stepping closer between your legs and then the head of his cock teases at your entrance, sliding up and down your folds, spreading your slick on him.

You’re about to whine for him to stop teasing when you hear the creak of a door opening. Eyes widening, your heart jumps to your throat when the sound of footsteps shuffling against the floors, echoes like a blaring drum from down the dark hallway.

Your breath hitches when Yugyeom sinks his cock into you slowly. Your palm flies to your mouth, just as he slides all the way in, balls pressed to your ass. He leans into you so that his chest is hard-pressed against your back. You can feel his breath on your skin as his lips press against the nape of your neck.

The door of the bathroom opens and closes.

“Shh,” he mumbles against you, slowly pulling out of you. The friction is so delicious, you can’t help the whimper that muffles against your palm. “Wouldn’t want to get caught with my dick inside you…would you?”

He fucks into you, one hand coming to your throat at the sound of your muffled moan. He squeezes at your throat, softly at first. When he feels the way you clench around his cock, he bites into your shoulder, hiding his groan.

“Are you gonna be a good girl?” he whispers into your ear, fingers tapping at your throat. You nod your head eagerly, rutting yourself onto his dick.

He bites at his lip, squeezing around your neck. At the sound of the water faucet running, Yugyeom ruts into you hard, his free hand coming to rub circles around your clit. You pant, breath constricting and eyes rolling. You love the way he fills you entirely. His slow thrusts hit you deep every time, keeping you at the edge of euphoria.

When the bathroom door opens, Yugyeom’s fingers rub at your bud even faster, sending your heart facing and electric currents straight to your core. You’re so close, it hurts. Tears brim at the corner of your eyes, your voice threatening to break as your ears strain to hear the footsteps coming closer.

You can feel your vein pulsing against your forehead as Yugyeom continues to thrust his cock into your sopping hole, sliding deep into your cunt.

The door of his parents’ bedroom squeaks like slow motion. Please, please go back to bed. Shut the door. All you can hear is your heart pounding in your own ear and Yugyeom’s stifled breathing.

And then you hear the click.

Yugyeom lets go of your throat to hold the edge of the counter instead and the air that invades your lungs while he fucks into you hard send you off the edge.

“Mmmmm,” a strained moan escapes your throat as you collapse onto the island, body jerking as your orgasm hits you in waves. Yugyeom continues his ministrations on your clit, his own balls straining at the way your pussy pulses around him, impossibly tight.

“That’s it, baby,” he soothes, rocking himself into you as you slowly come down from your high. He caresses your throat lovingly, placing soft kisses to your jawline until he’s spilling into you with a quiet groan.

You shiver, his moan tickling the shell of your ear as your pussy pulsed around his cock, sucking up each hot spurt of cum that shot into you.

“God,” he sighs, sweaty forehead pressing into your shoulder. He all but collapses on you. “I love you so much.”

Both you and Yugyeom freeze. His softened cock slips out of you and he rushes to help clean the cum that drips out of your pussy. Stumbling, Yugyeom haphazardly pulls the band of his pants back up while grabbing a towel from behind him.

You barely even notice the stickiness that drips down your thigh as Yugyeom wipes the damp towel across your skin. Instead, you stare down at his fluffy hair, a smile stretching across your face.

“Gyeom,” you say softly as he fixes your pants back up, still refusing to look at you. Your fingers thread through his hair softly, “Gyeom.”

When he tilts his head up, he looks so worried. You feel your heart squeeze.

“Gyeom,” you smile softly, helping him back up to his feet. “I love you too.”

He blinks like he’s heard you wrong. “You love me too?”

You nod, giggling now. “I do. A lot.”

Yugyeom pulls you into a kiss.

“You love me!” he repeats against your lips and then he is kissing you again until you are both giggling against each other.

#got7 scenarios #got7 reactions #got7 imagines #kim yugyeom #got7 smut #fluff #christmas au #holiday au #fanfic #writing #got7 series #le chocolatier series

147 notes · View notes

baepsaesbae · 3 years

Text

Sugar, Snow, and Everything Glows

Pairing— Park Jimin x female reader ft. OT7

Genre— Fluff, College au, Friends to Lovers, Holiday au

Warnings— None

Word Count— 3.6k

Summary— You’ve gone the entire semester being friends with Park Jimin. Now that the holiday season is in full swing, will things take a turn?

A/N— This gift was created through @bwcsecretsanta event and is for @pjmsdior. Surprise! I’m your Secret Santa, Winter Bear ❄️🐻 It has been so fun getting to know you and sending fun little asks. Please stay in touch and know that you can always come chat with me! I hope you enjoy my present, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays~

“We only have two days before everyone goes home. Well, I guess it’s more like one and a half now. We gotta make this count!” Jungkook enthusiastically stated to everyone crammed into his tiny dorm room.

“We just finished our last final, can’t we chill out for tonight? We can watch a holiday movie or something,” Taehyung complained.

“That’s exactly why we should celebrate! I heard they’re having a floor wide gingerbread house competition tonight,” Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows.

“Yes, we all know that, Kookie. We literally all live on the same floor and have the same RA,” you reminded him, “Honestly, I’m down to make a gingerbread house. I haven’t done that in forever.”

“Then it’s decided, we’re building edible houses tonight. We still have a few hours to kill so we can watch a movie if you guys want,” Jimin suggested.

With everyone in agreement, all four of you crammed onto Jungkook’s tiny twin bed to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000). Your first semester of college has been a success. You aced all your classes and lucked out on being in a great friend group. You met all three boys at your first dorm mixer. Thankfully, you all came to a mutual agreement that dorm parties were way too crowded and not even that fun if you weren’t completely drunk. So, you all decided to leave together and played ping pong in the lobby. All four of you had been good friends since.

Jimin and Taehyung were roommates and were practically inseparable. For once, it seemed like the random roommate system created a perfect match. Jungkook was the luckiest of all, since his roommate dropped out early on and he never got a replacement one so he had a room all to himself. The other boys joked that he could have hookups any time he wanted but despite his good looks, Jungkook wawa rather shy when it came to girls. He was awkward when you first met, but he easily warmed up to you and now treats you like one of the boys (Jimin often has to remind him of this when he tells him to keep his poop jokes to a minimum).

You used to get dirty looks from other freshman girls when they saw you surrounded by all the cute boys, but you learned to ignore them. You tried going on dates with some guys, but freshman boys are still just high schoolers disguised as college students. Needless to say, you never found any guy that interested you.

Of course, no one could blame you for having a tiny crush on Jimin. You liked everything about him. He was extremely thoughtful, very intelligent, and was in fact a very cute boy. However, you kept your romantic feelings a secret because you didn’t want to ruin the group dynamics.

These thoughts were hard to suppress when you were literally pressed up against his chest. In order for everyone to fit comfortably, Jimin offered for you to lean against him as he put his arm around you. The other boys paid no attention to his move, which you were thankful for because they would have made fun of you for blushing. You couldn’t pay attention to the movie. You were engulfed by Jimin’s scent (he wore a light yet alluring cologne), and your heart was beating so loudly you were worried that he could hear it.

“Should we wear Christmas sweaters?” Jungkook glanced at the clock as soon as the movie ended.

“I don’t have any,” you shook your head.

“I have an extra, you can borrow it if you’d like, “Jimin offered.

“Perfect! Tae do you have one?” Jungkook didn’t give you time to reply.

“I have one with polar bears on it,” Taehyung answered.

“That’ll work! Let’s meet back here in 10,” Jungkook stated as he stripped off his shirt.

“Stop showing off,” Taehyung laughed as he slapped the younger boy’s abs, “C’mon ___, let’s go get changed.”

The other boys’ room was just a couple doors down from Jungkook’s. Taehyung went to change in the bathroom while Jimin picked out a sweater for you. You waited patiently while you looked around Jimin’s side of the room. Your gaze stopped at his polaroid collection that hung above his desk. Looking at them made you smile as you reminisce the fond memories from throughout the semester. You saw the boys laughing and smiling, a surprising number of Jungkook shirtless, and a few selfies that only got Jimin’s forehead as he tried to fit everyone in the picture.

Then you saw one you’ve never seen before. It was a solo picture of you from Halloween. You wore one of your favorite black dresses with flowy sleeves paired with a pointy witch hat that brought the look together. Upon a closer look, you realized you weren’t even looking at the camera. Instead, you were looking away at an angle that made it seem like you were doing one of those classic model poses.

“I didn’t know you took this,” you called to Jimin, who was rummaging through his closet.

“Oh. Yeah, you just looked picturesque in that moment. I’m glad I got to capture it,” Jimin said in an uncharacteristically bashful way, “Here’s my Santa sweater,” he handed you the article of clothing.

“I actually look kinda cute here, so you did a good job,” you teased him as you put the sweater on over your shirt.

“You always look cute, so don’t worry about that,” Jimin smiled softly.

“You guys ready?” Taehyung barged in, ruining the moment.

“Yep!” you quickly answered and walked out of the room. Jimin was always sweet, but was he purposely flirting with you there?

“Give me a second, I’m almost ready,” Jimin responded with a tinge of annoyance.

Jungkook was already waiting outside the room, apparently too impatient to wait for everyone to show up in his room. He was sporting a green sweater that was obnoxiously decorated with real ornaments.

“Did you make that yourself?” Taehyung asked in awe.

“Made it last year with my family; they insisted I bring it with me,” Jungkook shrugged, “Let’s go win this thing!”

“Whaddup guys?” your RA, Jin, greeted the group as you entered the lobby. Four gingerbread kits were set up on a table in the middle of the lobby. Jin glanced at his watch and sighed.

“Hey Jin. Ready for the holidays?” you asked.

“Ready to get away from all you troublemakers,” Jin laughed, “Just kidding. You guys are the only ones who show up to my events, so you’re all automatically my favorites. I had to invite a few of my friends to help make it a real competition.”

“There’s already four people here though, that’s all you need,” Taehyung observed.

“That’s no fun. This is a team competition,” Jin explained, “Counting my friends, I think we can split up perfectly into teams of two.”

“I call ___,” Jimin immediately spoke up.

“Dude, I thought we were gonna be partners,” Taehyung looked butt hurt.

“Don’t worry Tae, we’ll kick their asses. Let’s combine our creative juices together,” Jungkook slung an arm around Taehyung.

“Fine. But keep your juices to yourself,” Taehyung sighed.

“What’s good, party people?” an unfamiliar voice shouted.

“Ready to show these Freshman how to properly make a gingerbread house?” Jin called out to his friends, “These goons are Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok. I’ll pair up with Namjoon.”

“Sope in the HOUSE!” Yoongi and Hoseok hollered in unison.

“Oh, and I forgot to mention that the winner gets a $50 giftcard,” Jin winked, “Ready, set, go!”

You and Jimin quickly got to unwrapping all of the goods. You were in charge of putting the house together as Jimin thought about how to decorate. The icing that held the walls together looked a bit messy, but you could cover that up with even more frosting.

“Wanna start icing the details and I’ll add the candy?” Jimin suggested.

“Yes chef,” you nodded and got back to work.

Jimin delicately added gumdrops and mints to the roof and added licorice to line the windows. You moved on to take care of the front yard. You added candy canes to make an arches along the front walkway, which was lined with kisses. More and more candy was being added onto the house up until Jin’s timer rang.

“Time’s up! Step away from the houses! Let’s start from this side with Jungkook and Taehyung’s house,” Jin announced.

“It’s certainly...avant garde,” Jimin commented. Icing was piped around the house in intricate patterns and candy was strewn across the house with no rhyme or reason.

“We didn’t want to be confined to the cookie cutter gingerbread house norms,” Taehyung said proudly.

“I can’t tell the windows apart from the door,” Namjoon whispered.

“You’re not supposed to!” Jungkook snapped, “Our house is anything you want to imagine.”

“Alright, moving on-- what the hell? Did you guys even try?” Jin shot a disgusted glare at the SOPE team.

“In my defense, I haven’t had dinner yet,” Yoongi shrugged.

“And I thought it wasn’t fair that only Yoongi got to eat it so I joined him,” Hoseok hung his head.

You stifled your laughter as you looked at their plate. Candies were piled up and the house laid unconstructed with many bites taken out of it. Jin shook his head and continued to present his house, which honestly was not much better than his friends’ lack of a house.

“This one was my bad,” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck.

The gingerbread house looked like it was struggling to stand up. The walls were lopsided and the icing was messily laced around the entire thing.

“I wanted to go for a White Christmas look and have the roof be completely covered with the icing. But thanks to Namjoon’s sloppy work, it got too heavy and the house started to fall apart--” the house collapsed right as Jin said that.

“___ and I made a picture perfect gingerbread house,” Jimin boasted. It was true. Your house looked like it was done by a professional. The icing was well done and the candies were placed in all the right places. No one else made a front lawn like you guys.

“It looks like we have a clear winner,” Jin nodded.

“Good try guys, better luck next time,” Jungkook stepped up to claim the prize.

“___ and Jimin are the winners,” Jin handed you the giftcard while looking at Jungkook in disbelief.

“Woohoo! Great job __!” Jimin cheered and hugged you tightly. You once again caught a whiff of his cologne and felt yourself melting in his arms.

“Boo! Lames!” Jungkook yelled at you both.

“Wait, is it snowing?” Yoongi said as he looked out the window.

Sure enough, white flurries were swirling around as snow landed on the ground. It must have been snowing for a bit, as it was actually sticking to the ground and there was at least an inch of it.

“Let’s go let’s go!” Jimin took your hand and dragged you to the elevator.

“You too, Jin. I wanna pelt my RA in the face,” Jungkook stuck his tongue out at Jin.

“Oh you’re on, kid. Let’s go boys,” Jin motioned to his friends.

Cold air whipped across your face as soon as you walked outside. You weren’t wearing nearly enough warm layers and the cold chilled you to the bone.You stuck your tongue out to catch snowflakes as you shivered. Jimin wrapped his arms around you, catching you off guard.

“Cold?” he whispered in your ear.

“Maybe a little,” you admitted as you felt your ears warm up. Right as you said that, a small white ball exploded on your chest. Jungkook had his signature bunny smile plastered on his face as he laughed hysterically. He was on a rampage, and you laughed as you watched him chase Jin around with a gigantic snowball.

“Oh, it’s on!” Jimin yelled at him as he started to form ammunition of his own.

You went to stake your own tiny claim of land to make snowballs in. Taehyung was running around with an arm full, pelting anyone in sight. Endless bouts of laughter echoed outside of the dormitory as you and your friends engaged in an intense snowball fight. There was no clear winner, but no one could feel their extremities by the end of it.

“Alright alright truce! You kids go take a hot shower before you get sick. I don’t wanna get blamed for anyone having an unpleasant holiday season,” Jin finally shooed all of his kids out of the snow.

“I can’t believe this. Why do my parents have to come pick me up a day early?” Jungkook complained as he sprawled out on his bed.

“Because they love you and are excited to see you, Kookie. Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of time to partake in more shenanigans next semester,” you patted his ankle in reassurance.

“If you’re leaving, then I’ll probably drive home today too. I miss Tannie,” Taehyung sighed.

“Why? ___ and Jimin are still here. You guys can have fun without me,” Jungkook pouted. Jimin and Taehyung exchanged a quick glance at each other before Taehyung talked about how much he missed his adorable little fluffy companion.

“I’m telling you, you have to sneak Tannie over here next semester,” you joked.

“He’ll get too excited and bark. Jin is chill, but probably not that chill,” Taehyung said somberly, “But don’t worry! We can take a field trip to my house next semester for sure. My mom makes the best food.”

“I can’t wait buddy,” Jimin smiled as Jungkook finally got out of bed to start packing. All three of you saw Jungkook off once his family came to pick him up. His mother was sweet and you could tell that he got his charisma from his father. Taehyung hugged both of you goodbye and you watched him drive off.

“Guess it’s just us left huh,” Jimin observed.

“What do you wanna do? It’s not even 11am yet,” you checked the time, “Oh! How do you wanna split up the gift card? It’s a visa so it can be used anywhere.”

“Why don’t we spend it together? That way it’s fair. What do you say to one final outing to commemorate the end of a great semester?” Jimin offered.

“Sounds good! Do you wanna stay on campus or?” you trailed off.

“I have an idea,” Jimin nodded, “But it’s a surprise! Meet in my room after we get dressed? Change into something a little warmer.”

“Fine,” you rolled your eyes.

You showed up in front of Jimin’s door wearing a cozy sweater a couple minutes later. You also sprayed on some of your favorite perfume, but he probably wouldn’t notice. Nor would he notice the extra effort you put into styling your hair.

“Hey you ready to have some fun?” Jimin greeted you with a smile, “You look...nice.”

“Thanks, you too. Now will you tell me where we’re going?” you asked.

“I’ll tell you on the way. C’mon let’s go catch the train!” Jimin led you by the hand down the hallway yet again.

The way he said that you looked nice made you feel self conscious. He had the same tone that people have when someone really doesn’t look nice but they were too far into the sentence to correct themselves. Now sitting together on the train, you wondered if you were wearing too much perfume.

“How do you feel about ice skating?” Jimin asked.

“I love it. Haven’t done it in a while though,” you answered.

“Perfect! I realize I probably should’ve made sure you enjoy skating before surprising you with it,” Jimin laughed nervously.

“This still makes for a fine impromptu date,” you laughed with him before realizing what you said.

“Date?”

“Sure is weird not having those two around causing a scene!” you interrupted him.

“Um, yeah. They’re good dudes,” Jimin awkwardly agreed.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat. You finally get some alone time with Jimin and you’re making it all weird. The other boys always made sure there was never a dull moment during your escapades. You wished they were here right now.

“This is our stop,” Jimin tapped on your knee.

The snow had stuck overnight, making everything that the sun touched glisten. Your spirits lifted as you walked around the decorated town, the festivity of everything seeped into you. Christmas lights were strung up everywhere, and there were big red bows on nearly everything.

“You good? You seem kinda out of it,” Jimin nudged you.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine! Don’t worry about it,” you shot him a fake smile.

“Hey, don’t lie to me. I’d like to think I know you better than that. What’s wrong?” Jimin prodded.

“It’s nothing really. It’s silly, believe me,” you replied quickly.

“___,” Jimin said in a serious tone.

“I didn’t mean to say ‘date’. It was just a stupid slip up and I guess I was worried about making this awkward when you’re really just trying to be a good friend and--”

“This is a date,” Jimin stated.

“It--what?” you were surprised.

“The boys and I have been planning this since last month. We figured it would be the only natural way for us to spend time together. Alone,” Jimin blushed as he looked at the ground.

“If you wanted to make it seem natural then you probably shouldn’t have disguised it as an accidental stroke of luck,” you crossed your arms, “And the way you said I looked nice earlier made me feel like I’ve had something on my face this whole time.”

“No no! You really do look nice! I was actually gonna say super cute but I chickened out. Aw, ___, you look lovely. I’m sorry I made you self conscious,” Jimin pulled you in for a hug, “I’ve liked you for a while, but I was scared that you didn’t feel the same way. If this makes you uncomfortable, we can just forget about this whole date thing and just skate as friends,” he whispered.

“I was scared of ruining the group so I never wanted to tell you that I like you,” you responded once the hug ended.

“I guess we both goofed. So can we call this an official date?” Jimin asked with a hopeful smile.

“Yes, yes we can,” you laughed.

“Sweet. Since it’s a date, can I hold your hand?” Jimin held out his hand and you happily took it. He led you to the ice rink as you both laughed and made fun of each other for being so coy for the entire semester.

“So how long have you liked me?” you asked.

“Would it be cheesy to say since I first laid eyes on you?”

“Yes.”

“Then since I first laid eyes on you,” Jimin was pleased with his answer.

“And the other two knew?”

“The entire time,” Jimin confirmed, “It was actually Taehyung who came up with this plan.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me out normally?” you tilted your head.

“Honestly, we never thought of that,” Jimin admitted.

“You boys are all so dumb,” you laughed.

“True, but it worked!” Jimin defended, “We’re here! You got the gift card on you?”

After paying for the ice skate rentals, it was now you leading Jimin into the ice rink. It had been a while since you last skated, and you were eager to glide across the ice again. You dragged Jimin behind you as you trudged forward.

“Do you not know how to skate?” you looked back at him.

“I do, but this is more fun,” Jimin smiled. You let go of his hand and took off. You laughed as he struggled to chase you. His version of skating was more like inching forward very very slowly with the grace of a newborn deer. You skated circles around him to tease him. The teasing continued until you both wore yourselves out (and your rental time was up).

“That was fun,” you announced happily.

“Speak for yourself, I lost track of how many times I fell on my butt,” Jimin rubbed his backside with a sad frown.

“7 times. And you fell onto your knees 3 times,” you informed him, “Do you wanna grab something to eat to make you feel better?”

“Some hot chocolate would smack right now,” he nodded.

“Let’s go get you warmed up big boy. Wanna go to Starbucks or something?”

“I have some hot chocolate back in the dorm. Can we heat that up and watch a movie?” Jimin asked sweetly. You nodded and made your way back to the train station. You leaned onto Jimin’s shoulder on the way back, enjoying your new freedom to be a little flirty with him.

Once back in Jimin’s dorm room, you made the hot chocolate while he changed into pants that didn’t have ice all over them. Both of you snuggled together on Jimin’s bed while Die Hard played on his laptop (believe it or not, that counts as a Christmas movie).

“Would you say today’s date was a success?” Jimin asked before taking a sip of his drink.

“I’d say so. I think we get along well,” you nodded.

“Well that’s a relief. I can take you on more next semester if that’s okay with you,” he looked into your eyes.

“That’s perfectly fine with me,” you smiled before kissing his cheek. This semester definitely ended on a high note. Tis the season.

#bwcssy2 #bangtanarmynet #btswritingcafe #clubjimin #bts fluff #park jimin fluff #kpop fluff #bts fanfic #kpop fanfic #jimin fanfic #park jimin #bts #ot7 fluff

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prettywordsyouleft · 3 years

Text

Christmas Is: The Star On Top

Pairing: Park Chanyeol x female reader

Genre: Christmas au / childhood friends to lovers / fluff

Warnings: competitive nature towards a darn tree, lol.

A/N: Welcome to the first story in our collab, Christmas Is! I based my idea a bit off of how my younger brother and I would fight over who would get to put the star on the tree as kids. I hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2134

The Star On Top | Noche Buena | A Series Of Unfortunate Events, Not By Lemony Snicket | The One Carol | Naughty Santa

This collab will be shared daily during 14-18 December.

You could sense the urgency brewing as the decorations container emptied, your own little hands reaching for two baubles instead of one, hoping that would give you an advantage. Yet he was right on your tail, both vying for the prized jewel that was nestled at the bottom.

The star.

Each year you fought over who would put the star on the tree and even if you were only eight, you knew that it would be another battle royale over who would get to put it on. Especially since last year, it wasn’t you who was victorious.

“It’s my turn!” you proclaimed loudly to the adults who watched on with loose interest, too busy catching up on the year thus far. Reaching for the star, you held it up with pride. “Ready?! I’ll put it on perfectly!”

“Nuh-uh!” the fellow child in the room stated, snatching the star out of your grip easily. It helped that he was at least a good hand taller than you by now. Chanyeol snickered. “I was faster. You still have a decoration in your hand to hang up, Y/N!”

“But you did it last year!”

“So, it’s the first to finish decorating!”

Glancing at the tree, you pointed to an overcrowded area. “You didn’t do a good job!”

“So fix it!”

“You fix it!”

“Chanyeol, Y/N, calm down,” your father called, and you immediately burst into tears. The paternal figure came over to rub your back gently. “Why are you crying, poppet?”

“Chanyeol is trying to put the star on the tree again. He did it last year! It’s my turn now!”

“You got to do it two years in a row!”

“Only because you were sick!” you refuted.

You didn’t know why putting the star on the tree had become a big deal to you at such a young age. You took it far too seriously, and over the last few years, you and Chanyeol had increasingly gotten quite competitive for the spot each Christmas. You assumed it had something to do with your brother being older and uncaring for things like tinsel and Christmas lights whilst the magic of this time of year always enchanted you. Chanyeol was similar, and when your families met up for the annual cabin retreat mid-December, you barely settled your luggage down in your room before pouncing on one of the adults about setting up the tree – usually with Chanyeol echoing the same excited whining.

And then the race would begin.

Forever the diplomat, your father looked at you both, rubbing at his brow line before chuckling heartily. “Do we still have to go through this each year?”

You both nodded adamantly.

“Well, I think we should do it this way. Each of you grab a side of the star.”

“But that’s not fair!” Chanyeol whined as you stomped your foot in agreement.

“He’s taller than me, how do I reach the top if I’m trying to hold on, Daddy?!”

“Chanyeol can use the stool,” your father recommended, and his hands reached out for your waist. “You can use my helpful shoulders, poppet!”

It wasn’t ideal, and you both sneered at one another with impertinence as you got ready.

“Hang on, let me grab my camera out,” Chanyeol’s mother called, soon ready for the usual photograph that was snapped at the end of each tree decorating session.

You didn’t smile, and Chanyeol was definitely scowling. His hot little hand kept inching for more of the star, and just as the countdown hit one, he pulled most of it out of your hand, beaming as he placed it on the tree.

You, of course, were caught crying and pointing accusingly in his direction.

One day, you’d end all this nonsense with him once and for all.

However, it wasn’t going to be this Christmas that you did so.

Even now, as adults yourself, it was ingrained in you both to arrive at the cabin and pull out the tree right away. Chanyeol glanced at you and grinned. “Nice to see you here, Y/N.”

“We drove up here together, you idiot,” you shot back, unwinding the lights from the box.

“Ready for another battle?”

“Can’t we just be grown up about this?” you wondered innocently, before lassoing the tree Chanyeol was still setting up on its legs. He gaped at you as you giggled, the slackness of the rope of lights sliding down to the bottom easily.

Over the years, you had each gained enough experience on how efficient your tree wielding skills could be. You had equally figured the other’s weaknesses too. You were good at the lights, but for some reason, tinsel and you didn’t agree. Chanyeol could dress the tree in the sparkly stuff but would easily overcrowd a section with more than one of the same coloured bauble or ornament and would have to rearrange multiple times. Still, it always came down to the final moment on who would win the star to put on the top. You each had your fair share of putting it up, and the scores were pretty even by now.

You didn’t know how it would play out this year, no matter how good your strategy was each time.

“Yeolie, you put two green baubles side by side again!” you called out gleefully, just for the man to shunt you away from your task of placing some up higher.

He smirked. “Why do you always aim for the top, Y/N? You stopped growing when you were thirteen. Stick to the bottom and let me get the top since I can with ease.”

“Mm, you’re right. Your back will break if you have to bend down too low, isn’t that right, giant?”

“Not funny.”

“Nor is you poking fun at my height. That’s why stools were invented.”

“Be careful, you know the legs on that thing have had to hold a lot of you over the years. It’s rickety.”

You gaped at his low blow until you felt it wobble under your hasty step up.

Grabbing your waist and righting you, time seemed to stop still.

So, you both hadn’t exactly lost your competitive nature about dressing the tree, but things had changed between you recently. You smiled tenderly at the man still holding you and cupped his jaw in your palm. “Thank you for saving me.”

“I couldn’t let you fall, now could I?”

“Mm,” you hummed, hovering your mouth over his. You felt his breath hitch and grinned at how easy his desires came to the surface. Reaching down, you unhooked the ornaments from his finger. “Also, thanks for handing me these.”

“You’re wel- HEY!”

“All is fair in love and war, Yeol.”

“The day I fell in love with you was a curse,” he grumbled, right as the front door to the cabin opened.

You each stopped to greet your parents and family members fondly.

Laughing, Chanyeol’s father pointed at the half decorated tree. “You two never change, do you?”

“Even arriving early this time to get it going,” your brother commented as he placed his one-year old daughter on the floor. “Your commitment is impressive.”

“Leave them be, they love this part to the holidays here,” your mother mentioned, now fussing over her grandchild.

Ignoring the chatter in the great room, you nodded at your partner in crime and got back to it. Most of your jibs at one another were playful, although there was a whole lot more touching than there had been as children. But the same heightened breathing and focus remained when the decoration box was nearly empty.

“This year is my year,” you confirmed, and Chanyeol shook his head.

“No way, am I letting you cheat me out of another turn.”

“You did that to me so many times,” you laughed, encircling his waist with one arm.

Chanyeol equally entrapped you at his side. “Nice try, I’m not going to fall for your charms twice this Christmas.”

“Why? Is it because last Christmas I fell for yours and ended up in this predicament with you?”

“Our relationship is a predicament now?!”

“Well, it sure isn’t something either of us could predict, now is it?”

“We all did,” your parents agreed with ease, and you laughed when you glanced over at them.

“You’re just saying that because you wanted further ties between the decades of friendships you have,” Chanyeol pointed out and you nodded. “You’ve been priming us for this moment for our whole lives.”

“And it took you both exceptionally long to do as we wanted,” your father teased, the group of parents all laughing between one another.

You rolled your eyes and turned to look in the box. “Hey, where is the star?”

“What?”

“Chanyeol! Where did you hide it this time?!”

“I didn’t! Stop trying to prank me, Y/N.”

You shook your head. “I really don’t have it. And if you don’t…”

“Oh, Matilda, look at you!” your father crooned at his grandchild, scooping her up into his arms.

It was then when you saw what she held and gasped noisily.

“Camera time!” Chanyeol’s mother cried, and before you could react, your niece had stolen the show and put the star on top of the tree.

She clapped excitedly as all the adults, aside from both you and Chanyeol, exclaimed over her efforts.

“But she didn’t even help us decorate the tree,” Chanyeol lamented softly, and you groaned.

“That was always the rule when we were growing up.”

“Now we’ve been tricked by a one-year old,” he surmised as you both sighed heavily.

“I’m not decorating the tree next year. She can drag it out and decorate it herself.”

“I’ve never seen two bitter faces in all my life,” your brother commented, shaking his head at you. “Face it, there’s a new generation in town.”

“Yeol, we need to have a baby.”

Not even hesitating to agree with you, Chanyeol nodded. “Then our child can take on Matilda.”

“And we’ll see who gets to put the star on top then!”

Glancing at one another, you then started to laugh, shaking your heads at your combined failure.

Later in the evening, when you had retired to your bedroom, Chanyeol smiled at you when he returned from using the shower. “Still butthurt that your niece robbed us of victory?”

“I guess we’re adults now. The fun over Christmas for us is done.”

“Until we have our own kid,” he teased, running a hand over your stomach fondly. “Not anytime soon, though.”

“Our parents were cruel for letting us get so out of control about a silly tree,” you told him as he climbed into the bed beside you and the man hummed positively. “Our child won’t have to battle for any glory like that. We’ll just buy a second tree and let them decorate it.”

“Why didn’t our parents do that for us? It would have saved me from getting bitten by you when you were ten.”

“And the black eye I got from you at twelve.”

“That was an accident, and you know it!” Chanyeol chuckled and pulled you into his arms.

“We have so many fond memories here over the years. When the tree escapade was over, we really played well together.”

Kissing the side of your head, Chanyeol grinned. “Now we play a little too well together.”

“Not tonight Yeol, I’m tired.”

“Can I give you a present early, though?” he wondered, and you glanced up at your partner curiously. It was then that you saw how anxious he was. Sitting up a little, you waited for further information. “I might have missed out on putting the star on top of the tree this year, but can I put a star on you?”

“Huh?”

Slipping out a simple ring, Chanyeol held it up so the light would reflect and make the stone sparkle. “Let’s get married, Y/N.”

“Oh my God… of course!”

As he slid the ring on your finger, your emotions rose. Chanyeol beamed with satisfaction once it reached the base of your finger. “Well, I got to put the star on top after all.”

“Wait. I lost, once again?!”

“Isn’t marrying me a win?”

“But you beat me to do it!”

“Were you going to propose?”

“Maybe!”

Pulling you into his arms as he laughed, Chanyeol peppered you in kisses to distract you. It ended in a passionate embrace, and when you moved back to catch some air, your newly-officiated fiancé nuzzled your nose. “Since I got to do this first, you can put my wedding band on first.”

You grinned. “You know the way to my heart, Park Chanyeol.”

“And you already have mine completely, future Mrs Park.”

“So maybe… I’m not as tired as I thought.”

“Is that so?” he mused, kissing you several times. “Merry Christmas, my little star.”

______________

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darker-soft-starker · 4 years

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Starker High School AU, Pt 3 (Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4, Pt 5)

-----

There were two things in life that Peter was unequivocally certain were true.

Number one was that Monday mornings were a universally despised, unpleasant experience that no weekend could ever ease the pain of having to endure.

And number two: Sit-ups were a specific and profound mechanism of torture that no person should ever be required to engage in, recreationally or mandated.

Of course, it would be just his luck that the two were combined on this very Monday morning.

It was cruel and unusual is what it was, Peter thought, hands curled at his temples as he pushes himself into a sitting position, falling back onto the dewy grass with a thud that steals the breath from his chest.

Bucky, holding his ankles, encourages him to complete his set.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps, his stomach trembling as he pulls himself up again. “I - oh fuck - I hate this. I hate exercise.”

Bucky squeezes his ankles tighter. “C’mon, Parker, only three more. You can do it.”

Peter shakes his head, even as he pulls himself up again with a pained groan.

“No, I can’t. Make it stop.”

“Two more. You got it. Sit-ups are not the boss of you.”

“Yes - ahh - they are!”

“One more!”

Sweat pours down his neck and his muscles protest as he pulls himself up for the last time. He gets probably only most of the way up before his gravity slams to the ground.

Bucky slaps his bare calf encouragingly as Peter stares up into the glaring morning sun, arms splayed out, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Oh, god. Never again. That was the worst.

Covering his eyes with his quivering arms he wonders if maybe coach will indulge him just this once. Maybe he can stay here until training is over, perhaps curl up into a ball and try to blend in with the grass so that no one sees him or subjects him to any more exercise.

Except Coach Danvers is already yelling at him to get off the ground and get moving.

He smacks his hands over his ears but it’s no use.

“Get up Parker, last warning!”

“Respite!” He yells back pleadingly, curling in tighter upon himself. “Please!”

Her whistle pierces the air.

“Now!”

Coach has been on edge all morning. Her harsh has turned razor edged in the face of their upcoming match against Kingston this Thursday, reminding the team of her expectations, tolerating nothing other than complete dedication.

Which, whatever.

Peter’s dedicated, okay? It’s Monday. He dragged his ass out of bed to be here at an unholy hour, exhausted and bloated from his indulgent weekend, didn’t he?

Erring on the margin of spite towards Danvers and self motivation, which he suspects is her aim, he pushes himself back up. Taking each of Bucky’s ankles in his grip, he starts counting as Bucky begins his set.

Not that he needs the assistance, Bucky proves his strength by ripping through the set like a bull stampeding through a brick wall. He doesn’t even break a sweat. Dude’s crazy athletic.

It’s really not fair.

As he mentally counts the reps, Peter thinks Bucky’s the kind of fit that Peter both hoped and never hoped to be. He’s effortlessly capable at any physical task, but he works hard for it, harder than Peter would ever dream of working, dedicating hours to gym time and conditioning. Bucky’s not even out of breath when he strikes up conversation.

“How was your weekend, PP?”

“S’okay. Played Mario Kart with my Aunt all weekend.”

Bucky grins as his upper half rises to meet his knees. “Oh, party animal. She doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good,” Peter grins wryly, taking one of his hands from the other’s ankle to push the sweat-damp hair from his eyes. “Kicked my ass though. She always takes Toad.”

“Switch?”

“Nah, GameCube. How was your weekend?”

“Boring. Parents were home all weekend and wanted some ‘family time’.”

“So, you just watched The Voice all weekend?”

“Yup.”

“Nat sneak in after?”

“Yup. How’d it go with Stark on Friday?” Bucky accepts Peter’s hand as he finishes his set. Peter pulls him up and pats him on the back.

The set off in a jog to complete a lap of the field, Coach yells that only five minutes are left, urging them to pick up speed. Peter’s lungs burn when he speaks.

“It was fine.”

Bucky looks at him dubiously, flyaways whipping at his face.

“Well not like, fine-fine, but no bloodshed. See? All limbs intact.” He holds his arms out mid-sprint.

“Wow, so you’re basically best friends now.”

“No.”

“Did you hold hands and braid each other’s hair?”

Incensed, Peter shoves at Bucky to the sound of his snickering,

“Ew, stop, I just had breakfast. Look, the first experience was painful enough. Can we move on? I really don’t want to talk about it.”

---

“And then he hit on my Aunt,” Peter complains in the showers, soaping up his chest. “Literally right in front of me. Who does that?”

“Did she flirt back?” Bucky asks, dipping his head into the spray.

“What? No. He said he was just trying to get under my skin,” he puts his head beneath his own shower head, the water pleasantly lukewarm against his heated skin. “I mean, what kind of psychopath does that?”

“Yeah, but your aunt is super hot though,” Wilson says to his right. “Stark’s an asshole, but he’s not crazy.”

There is a general murmur of agreement around the showers.

“I’m going to need you all to shut up right now,” Peter warns, turning to point at them all. “Keep my aunts name out of your mouth while you’re washing your balls, alright?”

“You heard him, move on,” Rogers cuts in, offering Peter a sympathetic smile.

He nods gratefully as conversation quickly turns to girls, grades and the upcoming Thanksgiving holidays. There was a reason why Peter was on Roger’s side all these weeks ago, he thinks, observing how the entire team respects his command without query. The guy was just interested in doing the right thing, and that’s pretty cool.

By the time they’re all dried and dressed, the topic is forgotten, much to Peter’s relief. He’s nearly late to first period though, too busy watching Wilson and Barnes smack each other with wet towels and attempting to tame his unruly curls into something resembling neatness. He’s not proud of the amount of gel it takes, but it’s what he’s got to work with.

It’s not that he’s obsessed with his appearance or anything, but he has a routine that he sticks to. Gel and lots of it.

Once, in third grade, Flash pulled one of Peter’s tightly coiled ringlet between his fingers, pulled on it and said oink. Peter still had some lingering baby fat at the time and so, as cruel as children can be, Peter was donned Piggy Parker for a time afterwards. Sometimes Porky Parker. They’re friends now, but the oinking and snuffling that followed him around the playground still haunts him.

Anyway.

On the way to first period Rogers walks alongside him down the hall. They have English together, but usually make their way separately. It kind of weirded Peter out for a moment because while they’re team-mates, they’re not really friends.

“Heard you got paired with Stark for an assignment,” the other boy says, his wry smile caught between amused and sympathetic. “That’s shit luck, Parker.”

“You’re telling me,” Peter agrees, waving to Ned and Betty as they pass. “Dude’s a freakin’ prick.”

Rogers bumps their shoulders together.

“You said it. Want me to have a word with him, get him to back off?”

“Nah,” Peter shakes his head. “I can handle Stark, he’s just some bored rich kid looking for a fight. Besides,” he gives Rogers a once-over, “pretty sure you’re supposed to keep your distance after your last brawl with him.”

“True,” he concedes, clamping Peter’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze as they stop before their room. “But we’re a team, alright? Just say the word and I’ll encourage some sense into him. Promise to be gentle.”

Peter clamps his hands over his heart with a flair of drama, despite being truly touched. “You’re my hero, Captain Rogers.”

Rogers rolls his eyes and shoves him into the classroom.

“Alright, smartass. Let’s go.”

Inside, he smiles sheepishly at Mrs Perez who glowers at them for their lateness and takes his usual seat between Clint and Shuri. He signs a good morning to the former and smiles at the latter, who is staring down at her desk with disdain.

“What’s wrong?” He nudges her chair with his foot to grab her attention.

“The curriculum.” She raises her head and points to the board miserably. It reads Lord of the Flies.

Oh, great. He could use the nap.

Peter smiles sympathetically, opening his nearly full notebook up to a blank page. “How was your weekend?”

“Meh.”

“Meh?”

“Mmm,” She nods, gesturing airily. “You know, eh. Oh, oh! I heard you spent the weekend getting cosy with Stark,” Shuri follows, pretending to search through their textbook. “Wow, that’s a three-sixty, PP. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What?” Peter hisses, voice lowering when their teacher looks around as roll-call commences. “That’s not -- ”

“Parker!” Perez yells for roll call.

“Present!”

Shuri snickers as Peter’s hand shoots up.

Lucky for him it’s the last he hears of it.

Kinda.

---

His next class is Bio with MJ who, thankfully, says very little through class. She inspects him with bleary eyes when he enters, nursing a coffee in her hands, always earlier than Peter who has to come from the other side of the school.

Peter’s grateful for the reprieve. When she does speak to him, it’s to borrow a pen or to offer him a sip of her coffee. It’s not a lab class today, only note-taking and listening to their teacher drone on about plant anatomy in the same monotone, so he accepts the bitter black coffee without hesitation.

It’s only then that he ventures to initiate conversation.

“So,” he begins precariously, doodling in his notebook, “how was your weekend?”

She shrugs, appearing more awake than earlier. “It was okay. You?”

“It was okay.”

And that was that, he’s relieved to note, companionable silence falling between again as they turn their attention to their teacher again. It’s not until they’re packing up their books at the end of class that MJ speaks to him again.

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah, dude. Save us a table?”

“You bet. Oh, and by the way, I heard Stark is gonna be your new step-daddy. Congrats.”

Peter groans.

“How do you -- you know what, no,” he says, pulling his backpack over his shoulders and making a x with his arms. “Nope. No more talking about Stark, he is persona non grata. I’m traumatised enough.”

MJ pushes his glasses up after they slipped precariously down his nose during his declaration. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

He bumps their shoulders together on the way out of the room and shakes his head.

“Why do people keep saying that?”

---

Ned texts him during recess; Peter is taking an extended break in the bathroom despite not needing to be there, but he’s definitely not hiding, nope. He’s just chilling in the cubicle.

< heard stark spent the weekend < lol wtf < plz verify < actually i don’t want to know < no wait i do tell me < dude

< hello?

----

Traitors, all of them.

He wonders if he should leave this school and start anew elsewhere.

---

Here’s the thing.

As much as Peter loves his friends, he has limits to how long he can spend with them before needing a time out.

They’re his motley crew of village idiots. Some he’s known since first grade, like Ned and Flash, others only since he came to the school and subsequently, the football team.

This school headhunted him because of his academic merit. With his pursuit of scholastic excellence - and the fact that some of his best friends would be attending the school, he applied for and was awarded a scholarship. It was a no-brainer - he had big dreams and even bigger expectations of himself to achieve them and he wanted May to be proud of him.

Which was why when it was suggested that he try out for JV, having exhibited some physicality during gym class, he decided to give it a try. It would look great to have on his applications, he was assured.

So he did. Somehow his wiry frame and years of gymnastics was considered an asset and he was promptly recruited by Coach Danvers. At first he deeply regretted the additional commitment -- the early hours, the soreness, adapting to the internal culture within the team. But he’s persevered and he’s glad that he did.

And for the most part, he copes okay. He can juggle football obligations and after-school activities and the odd tutoring jobs here and there and stay sane, right?

Sort of.

Because as grateful as he was for his broad circle of friends, Peter was still, at heart, an introvert. And right now, his social energy is running on fumes.

It’s because of this - and nothing to do with the relentless questions about Stark - that Peter retreats to the library at lunch that day.

Nestled away in the dusty, back corner, near the collection of old encyclopaedias that nobody reads, are an assortment of bean bags. It’s away from the main area, quiet and disregarded by most. It used to be a thriving recreational area way before Peter’s time, but there wasn’t any maintenance to it over the years. Now the bags are old, terribly lumpy and are speckled with suspicious stains, the fabric is thinning and aged. Most people purposefully avoid the old rec area, which is why Peter likes this spot best. It’s his secret hiding space.

He prepares to disassociate for the next forty minutes by getting comfortable on his favorite bean bag and popping his earphones in.

Next, he retrieves his slightly soggy ham-tomato sandwich from his bag and takes a large bite after unwrapping it. The first burst of tomato hits his tongue at the same time as the music begins.

Ah, to be alone.

Closing his eyes, he allows his body to sink into the bag and for his thoughts to wander freely.

Of course, because his luck is as poor as he is, his seclusion lasts all of three songs before someone else enters into his space. Well it’s not his space, technically, but it should be.

When Peter creaks an eye open to see who is intruding he’s surprised to see Thor perched on the bean-chair opposite him. They catch each others stare and smile.

Well, alone time is overrated.

Maybe his luck isn’t down the drain after all - because this is his opportunity to prove he isn’t a total fumbling loser. He doesn’t know which deity he pleased to be alone in a quiet corner of the library with Thor, but someone up there is clearly looking out for him.

He wants to say something, to strike up a conversation that might make Peter seem cool and only casually interested - something that would make him sound both smart and like, available.

But not too available.

With little success, Peter wracks his brain for the best opening line but frets because he’s ever been cool or collected a day in his life. And great, now he’s just been sitting there smiling for like two whole minutes like an absolute weirdo. Come on, Parker, say something!

Thor acts well before Peter has the chance to say anything, pointing at him, his mouth moving with words Peter can’t hear.

Realising a moment too late that his earphones are still playing music from his phone, Peter hurries to tug them out if his ears, smacking himself in the face in the .

“Sorry, I was --” Peter gestures to his ears, hands shaking, cheeks going hot. God, Thor is talking to him. Him! Peter Parker! “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I said I like your shirt!” Thor replies, way more loudly than what would normally be socially acceptable for a library, but Peter does not care. Thor likes his shirt.

“This?” He asks, gesturing downwards to his shirt where crumbs are dusted at the collar. “You like Nirvana?”

“I do not know Nirvana,” Thor smiles, “but it looks very cool. Peter, right?”

“Uh yeah,” he nods, face positively flaming because again, he knows Peter’s name. Quickly sweeping the crumbs from his shirt, he extends his hand out to the older boy who shakes his hand. Holy shit. Be cool. “I’m Parker -- I mean, Peter. Yes. Nice to be here. I mean, nice to be speaking. To you.”

Even as Peter’s arm is roughly jostled with Thor’s exuberant hand-shaking embarrassment crawls up his neck, and he wants to disintegrate into the bean bag where no one has to witness his persistent, glaring awkwardness. Palms sweating, Peter has to bite his lip to stop himself from commenting on how big Thor’s hands are.

Stop it, he scolds himself, be normal, play it cool.

“Thor, right?” Peter asks, as if he didn’t doodle their initials together in his notebooks. “You were at training last week.”

“Yes, you fell on your face,” Thor nods, gesturing to the yellowed bruising on his jaw, “I saw.”

“Oh, okay, so you saw that! Uhh -- ” Peter waves a hand at his face, laughing nervously. “This? It’s nothing. I’m totally fine.”

“You are clumsy,” Thor states, not unkindly.

“Well, no -- I mean, yes --” Peter tries to come up with an explanation, but falls short. “I’m not always a klutz, promise. Just sometimes.”

“Happens to the best of us. Well, not myself, but you know, generally speaking. In any case, I’m happy to see you’re okay.”

Thor unzips his backpack then and from within it retrieves a truly gargantuan protein shake, followed by a sub wrapped in foil so large it could be the same size as Peter’s forearm. Sneaking a look down at the remainder of his own lunch, his pickings look pretty slim in comparison.

“Sorry,” Thor says. “Just peckish for a snack.”

Peter watches, dazed, as the older boy consumes half his sub in a single bite, washing it down with several mouthfuls of his shake.

A snack.

“You’re fine. Anyway, football isn’t really my forte,” he admits after a moment, drawing his knees up. “I mean, I’m okay at it and I like it, but it’s not really what I’m best at, y’know?”

The blond boy nods, “I’m on the varsity team,” he proclaims, wiping his mouth. “Whatever that means.”

His accent is so thick it takes Peter half a moment to figure out what it was that he said.

He’s not sure if Thor is being serious or not but the one question Peter has is why is he so fucking cute?

A silence follows, albeit not an awkward one. It gives Peter the opportunity to inspect the older boy, nearly a man at his height and stature, of course helped along by the generous distribution of facial hair across his lower face.

“Uh, did you play football back at home?” Peter asks, keen to keep conversation going. “Soccer?”

“Oh yes,” the boy nods. “Soccer, tennis, volleyball. Water polo. Badminton.”

“Wow,” Peter blinks, “that’s a lot of sport. You’re like the whole Olympics here.”

He’s awarded with a lazy grin for that comment. Thor, to his credit, doesn’t appear to be boastful about his physicality, seemingly a result of his passions instead of a product of vanity.

“Close enough, I suppose. What else do you play, besides football?”

“Uhh --”

Oh god. How is he supposed to respond to that when the idea of doing additional sports outside of football is abhorrent? He can’t tell Thor that. Surely he can fake a common interest. Think of something, Parker, think, think.

The first bell rings, saving him from having to provide a potentially humiliating answer, seeing as all how all that could think of was chess, or PC. Both of which are true and accurate, but not exactly something he thinks that would make him appear more attractive or endearing.

Thank god for fifth period.

“To be continued?” Peter asks as he picks up his backpack, just a little hopeful.

There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs, moment filled with odd squeaks of polystyrene as they attempt to stand.

Thor nods and to Peter’s surprise, doesn’t immediately rush to get away from him. There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs with, odd squeaks of polystyrene as they stand. Instead, he accompanies Peter all the way out of the library, walking alongside him into the main hallway where a flurry of students are intersecting to get to their next class, walking alongside him.

Heads turn to watch them as they depart the library and enter the halls. For a moment, as kids part like the red sea to make way for them - for Thor - Peter wonders if this is what it’s like to be famous. Or to be on the arm of someone famous. It certainly feels like it, because even though the revere isn’t for Peter specifically, it seems like the weight of everyone’s awe is on them.

He doesn’t like the attention. But he likes Thor.

To his delight, the older boy follows him to his locker. Embarrassingly, it sticks when Peter tries to open it, as it usually does. He struggles with it for long, humiliating moments before Thor opens it with one hand.

“Thanks,” he says, blush creeping back up his neck. “You’re like, crazy strong, dude.”

Thor flexes and inspects his own bicep, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Perhaps,” he concedes, smiling roguishly. “Back at home I used to lift my brother for weight training.”

“You what?”

“A story for another time,” Thor shakes his head, shuffling closer to be heard over the traffic of students. “Anyway, I should be going. But there was something I have been meaning to ask you, if I may take a moment --”

Peter freezes. Oh my god, this is it, he thinks.

It’s happening.

“-- seeing as you and I have similar interests and we seem compatible, it would please me greatly if you would agree to --”

Heart racing, Peter turns, a fervent yes already on his lips.

It dies when there is a loud call of his name in the hall.

“-- Hey, Parker!”

Whatever Thor was going to say wilts at the interruption, seemingly forgotten as he waves at the intruder. Peter turns to see who called out for him and instantly wishes he didn’t.

Heart dropping to his stomach, he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs.

This is his luck.

Never has he wanted to melt into the floor and die like he does right now as Stark approaches the pair in quick strides.

Hands shoved into his jean pockets, Stark’s wide eyes dart between them inquisitively, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face, disappearing just as quick.

“Well, pardon me. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Tony places a hand on his heart and leans on the locker next to Peters. “Thor, barely a pleasure as always.”

“Stark,” Thor nods.

Tony simpers, smile saccharine sweet and gestures to an uneasy Peter.

“I am just so sorry to intrude, but would you mind if I spoke to my husband here? He’s such a slippery one, aren’t you, sweetums?”

Thor looks between them, head going to and fro like a pendulum.

“He’s not my husband,” Peter rushes to assure, acutely pincered between Thor’s confusion and Tony’s mischief. “I mean he is, but it’s for an assignment. We’re not really -- it’s not real. I don’t like him.”

Tony exhales heavily, looking at Thor with dismay. “That’s not what he said in our wedding vows.”

Peter wants to punch him in the throat.

“I understand,” Thor smiles, patting each of them on the shoulder. He dips his chin and catches Peter’s eye. “To be continued?”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter nods enthusiastically, probably too enthusiastically, he thinks, as his aim is to pretend to be cool and disinterested, but he doesn’t even care because maybe not all is lost after all. “To be continued. See you.”

All of the pomp bleeds away from Tony as Thor walks away, his posture turning into a slump against the locker.

The smile drops from Peter’s face. He sends Tony a heated glare as he retrieves from his books, shoving them into his bag.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, slamming his locker shut. “You have the worst timing, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” the other boy shrugs. “What can I say, I’m delightful.”

“You’re deplorable.”

Tony gasps in mock offence. “Deplorable? Good lord, Parker, is that any way to speak to your husband?”

“If the shoe fits,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, I have to go to class. Say what you want or move out of the way.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. C’mon, what were you and He-Man grunting about, hmm? Grr, me big, you tiny?”

“Unless you have a point,” Peter asks, pointing to the main hall, “I’m leaving.”

Tony puts his hands up in surrender, however the glib expression doesn’t quite leave his face. But at that moment Peter doesn’t have it within him to care, he’s not here to entertain him and sooner they get this over with, the better.

“Alright, alright, buzzkill. Come outside, I have to talk to you about the assignment.”

Peter looks at him, perturbed.

“I need a smoke,” he explains, tutting at Peter dispiritedly. “Also, don’t lie, I know it’s your free period.”

He doesn’t wait for Peter to respond, heading straight for the double doors that lead to the courtyard at a sedate enough pace for Peter to follow. Nonetheless he jogs a few paces to catch up after debating whether or not it was a good idea to follow or if he should hide in the boys bathroom.

Again.

It’s fairly chilly out, the wind whipping through his clothes. He wishes he had a scarf or gloves or something, opting to shove his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and hooking the hood over his head.

“How do you know it’s my free period?” he queries loud enough to be heard over the wind.

“Because,” Tony turns to walk backwards, the breeze whistling around them, “it’s also my free period and you always stink up the library so I can’t go there,” he rounds the corner to lead Peter to the shaded area behind the auditorium where a few students are lingering, most of them smoking.

“And you take the best seat. Personally, I think it’s selfish. I can’t possibly sit there after your ass has warmed it.”

Willing himself to not rise to Tony’s level of pettiness, he crosses his arms over his chest as they come to a stop. The wind is at full force now that the surrounding buildings aren’t taking the brunt of it and it is cold as all hell, although Tony’s in a black t-shirt and doesn’t look affected at all, probably because he’s cold-blooded or warmed by hellfire.

Tony cups his hands over his lighter to protect the flame from the breeze, struggling briefly to light his cigarette. Once the end is properly alight, Tony takes a drag while staring at him.

His hand comes to rest at his thigh, smoke rising idly from the cigarette. After a moment, he exhales the smoke in Peters direction.

“Wow. You’re disgusting,” he waves his hand in front of his face to dispel the smell. “Don’t you know second-hand smoke can kill?”

"Yes. Do you want a drag to speed up the process?”

“Don’t be a dick,” he says as Tony seems to find himself funny, offering up the cigarette in jest. Peter has half a mind to snatch it out of his hands and stomp on it. “I know that’s hard for you.”

“I’m joking, okay. I thought the wind would redirect the smoke. My bad.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Anyway, the assignment? Still waiting for whatever was so urgent."

Tony takes another drag, flicking ash to the ground before answering.

“I booked an appointment with a realtor for tomorrow after school.”

That has Peter’s curiosity piqued. “Really? Where?”

“LIC. One of the agents has agreed to be a reference so our domestic nightmare can be officially documented. Yay, go team.”

“Yay,” Peter deadpans. “What time?”

“Appointment’s at four-thirty,” Tony retrieves his phone from his pocket and hands it to Peter. “Give me your number and I’ll send you the details.”

Peter accepts it with a grimace. It’s warm from Tony’s body heat. Ugh.

“And now you can say: ‘thank you for being proactive, Tony, you’re so much better than me, Tony’.”

“Thank you for being proactive, Anthony, even if you’re a self-aggrandizing jerk,” Peter mutters, voice getting progressively more sarcastic.

A wide smile blooms on Tony’s face, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re welcome, Parker.”

He is going to let that one go, Peter decides, feeling magnanimous on spite of the circumstances. He’d never admit it, but he’s kinda surprised by Tony’s apparent initiative, and even genuinely a little grateful that the other boy has arranged this so quickly. Or even that he thought to arrange it at all - field research was one of the highest scoring components on the rubric for this assignment.

Eyes flicking up for a moment, he assesses the other boy. Maybe he’s not as much of a slacker as Peter thought he was.

Tony, slumped against the brick wall, rubs his stomach and burps quietly.

Or maybe he is.

Nevertheless, Peter types in his details and saves his contact in Tony’s phone as Your Better Half.

Peter isn’t too much to look at, he knows, but he’s not the weak link here.

Tony accepts the phone back and wipes the touch screen on his shirt before pocketing it.

“Alright then, meet me after school tomorrow in the parking lot. Don’t be late,” he flicks his cigarette to the ground and steps on it to put it out. Tony bends at the waist then to pick up the stub, clutching it in his fist for later disposal instead of leaving it as litter.

That surprises Peter a little, it’s more thoughtful, conscious a gesture than he would have expected to come from Stark. Not that he’s ever personally seen such behaviour from him, but it wouldn’t be a stretch with his devil-may-care attitude. Would it?

He’s about to make mention of heading back inside when Stark takes two purposeful steps towards Peter, bridging the gap between them.

Peter freezes on the spot, breath caught in his chest as Tony brings them nose-to-nose.

He flicks his eyes down at Tony’s lips when his solemn expression morphs into an impish smile.

“Dude, what -- ?”

While Peter is distracted, Tony’s hands dart out to grip the strings of Peter’s hoodie, tugging them until the hood shrinks around his face.

“Do me a solid and try to wear something that doesn’t make you look like you’re a step away from lining up at a soup kitchen, okay? Y’know, something nice.”

Peter smacks his hands away furiously, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Tony backs away, snickering.

“You really get off on being a prized piece of shit, don’t you?” he mutters, somewhat self conscious as he tries to correct the hood. “Poor jokes, that’s real nice. Sorry not all of us were born wearing Balenciaga.”

He continues to struggle with it as they move away and head back towards the main building, pushing it off his head altogether.

“Calm down, Charlie Brown, it’s not that deep,” Tony says drily, although his flippant demeanour softens significantly. “I have no doubt that you’d still manage to look like a hobo even if you were loaded, okay. You just have that grubby vibe.” Tony claps his hands together. “So, tomorrow. Meet me in the parking lot. Yes?”

Inside, away from the wind, Peter is still helpless to quell the hurricane that is Tony Stark. He gives him a tired thumbs up.

With that Tony sets off in the opposite direction, leaving Peter to wonder what the hell just happened, and what his life has become these last few days.

“What a jackass,” he says to himself.

Now alone, he rubs his hands up and down his face, fruitlessly attempting to scrub away the memory of Tony close to him, eyes warm with mirth, the heat of his body up close and the smell of nicotine on his breath as he quite literally tugged Peter’s strings. It takes longer than he likes to will the image away and to calm the furious beat of his heart.

Furious; a feeling Peter is becoming progressively more familiar - and uncomfortable with.

Ben used to say that being angry at someone was allowing them to take up space in your head, rent free. He was right, because it never served Peter well to house animosity when acceptance was kinder to his soul and psyche, and to others -- but he can’t help it with this guy. Tony Stark is like an ear worm of the brain. He has this completely obnoxious way of making himself front and centre despite Peter’s best efforts to cast him to the sidelines.

While he’s willing himself to move on his phone vibrates inside his pocket with a new message.

> ur not my better half, loser > why r u like this > nvm i already know lol. > remember, don’t be late 2morrow

Peter, just a little satisfied with himself for getting under Tony’s skin, saves his contact as Tiny Stank and types back quickly, eager to get back to his seat in the library - assuming Stark hasn’t already occupied it - and make the best of his remaining free period.

< whatever helps u sleep at night < also, plz lose my number after this is over

> way ahead of u, princess > say hi to aunt may for me

Ugh, Peter cringes, pocketing his phone without replying.

That guy is the worst.

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends, @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny, @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix

#starker #ironspider #high school au #tony stark x peter parker

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timelordthirteen · 3 years

Text

Desperate Souls 1/?

Mr. Gold/BelleFrench, Explicit

Summary: A broke and heartbroken Belle French comes to an agreement with Mr. Gold to do a little modeling, just for him, in exchange for the money she desperately needs, but it isn't long before they both realize they've made a deal they didn't understand. Based on this prompt.

Chapter Summary: Belle makes a depressing discovery and considers her options.

Notes: OKAY. Here we go. Chapter 2 is almost done, but everything was getting stupid long and in spite of my plan I had to break it up. The entire story is all fully outlined now, but I make zero promises about my ability to keep it updated because I'm the worst. In total it will be anywhere from 10 to 15 chapters.

[AO3]

Belle stared at the paper in her hands.

$37.23

That was all that was left in the account. She staggered and then dropped down onto the old sofa. Her heart was thumping in her chest, her face felt hot, and her vision blurred. The page fluttered away, sliding over the coffee table to fall off the edge and onto the floor on the other side. The corner of the paper fluttered in the air from a heating vent in the floor, and she watched it for a long moment before her head dropped to her hands, palms pressed to her face as tears stung her eyes.

Her heart, her hopes, her money; Garrett Gaston had taken everything.

Well, almost everything. Apparently, she still had thirty-seven fucking dollars and change left. She shook her head and laid back against the cushions, breathing slowly. Calming down was step one, step two was figuring out a logical plan to fix things. Most of the regular monthly bills: car payment, cell phone, and utilities, had already been deducted before Garrett had a chance to clean out their shared account. That left whatever was on the credit card and the rent to pay. She let out a short, humorless laugh, and sat up. There wasn’t much on her Visa, some books she ordered from Amazon last month and her Netflix subscription. Even if there was more she could get away with making minimum payments if she had to and eat the interest until she got back on her feet. The rent was a whole other story.

Mr. Gold didn’t do minimum payments, but he did do late fees and interest.

There was also her promise to her father. Moe French was always just barely making ends meet, and she had agreed to loan him some money to buy extra stock for the flower shop ahead of Valentine’s Day, something she had done last year as well. That holiday always put the shop in the black for a while, and she hadn’t been concerned that she wouldn’t get her money back. Now she was wondering if she would also need a loan of some kind just to keep a roof over her head.

Maybe she’d even have to move back in with her father.

Belle blinked, letting the tears roll down her cheeks, leaving trails through her makeup. Living with Moe was not an option, not if she wanted to maintain any semblance of a relationship with him, which left her with few choices. She pushed to her feet, wiping at her face with her hand as she crossed the small living room to pick up the bank statement. Her eyes immediately went to the top of the page.

Beginning balance…$4,737.23

The statement crumpled in her hand, her fingers squeezing it into a tight ball, digging the sharp edges of the folded paper into her palm before she spun on her heel and threw it across the space. It smacked against the door to the bathroom. She followed it up by yanking the ring off her left hand and flinging it in the same direction. It made a satisfying ping as it careened off the doorknob and rattled to the floor.

Rage fueled her as she stomped through the apartment, snatching up the handful of things her now very ex-fiance had left behind before he fucked off to Mexico with a woman who wasn’t her, taking all of her money with him. She felt like an idiot for agreeing to sign Garrett onto her account before they were married, but in the moment it had made sense to pool their funds. They were starting their new life together, supposedly, and he made a point of saying he wanted to help pay for the wedding.

Belle and her father didn’t have much, and from the outside it seemed like Garrett was far better off financially. He had a decent job selling insurance, a nice car, nice clothes, and his parents were very well off real estate agents in Boston. Or at least that was what he had told her. She had never met them, and that, combined with the fact that he had yet to make any deposits into their now shared account, told her all she needed to know. Garrett Gaston was a lying asshole, and for all she knew his parents could be dead or have disowned him. It was clear he had used her, though she wasn’t sure the year long charade was worth the four thousand-seven hundred dollars he’d stolen from her.

She let out a ragged breath and ran her hands through her hair. A hooded sweatshirt with a rip in the front pocket, a paint splattered t-shirt, a pair of work boots that had seen better days, a phone charger, and a mismatched pair of socks lay in a pile on the sofa. Everything else he’d taken with him, including half the hangers in the closet. He must have crammed it all into the same large suitcase and duffle bag he’d used to move in just three months ago. She wondered if he’d had it all planned before then, or if it was a spur of the moment decision. When had he met this other woman? Had he cared about her at all, ever?

Belle sniffed loudly and rubbed her nose. She refused to shed any more tears over Garrett, and looked around the room for anything she might have missed. A thought hit her then, and she hurried into the kitchen, took one of the chairs from the small table by the window, and used it to reach up on top of the fridge. Her heart sank when she felt nothing but dust. He’d even taken her emergency fund, mostly made up of spare change and small bills shoved into an old jar. She wasn’t sure how much was in it, but it had to be a couple hundred dollars. That brought the total to almost five thousand.

Deflated and exhausted, she climbed down off the chair, and placed it back at the table. Then she walked back into the living room and briefly contemplated setting Garrett’s things on fire. There was a burn barrel in her father’s backyard that he used for yard waste. Maybe she could invite Ruby and Ashely over for a bonfire, and roast marshmallows that they imagined were ex-boyfriends.

That thought made her smile, but a few seconds later, she sighed and reluctantly went to pick up the bank statement and engagement ring. Being angry might make her feel better temporarily, but it wouldn’t solve any of her current problems. Unfortunately, neither would anything Garrett left behind, which were clearly items he no longer cared about and which had no value. At least she’d been wearing the ring when he packed up and left, or he likely would have taken that as well.

She went into the bedroom and sank down on the end of the bed. The mattress dipped and the frame creaked, yet another reminder of her less than stellar financial state. A couple of weeks ago, they’d talked about getting new furniture after they were married, in particular, a bed, and Belle rolled her eyes at the memory. She put the engagement ring back in its box on her dresser, and decided to take a shower. As the hot water ran down over her neck and shoulders, she made a mental list of what she needed to do, and felt calmer after she was done.

After drying off and changing into some comfortable clothes, she shoved Garrett’s belongings into a trash bag and set it by the door to take down to the dumpster in the morning. Then she sat down with the little notebook she kept in her purse and a pen, and started writing out her expenses for the next month. By the time she was done, and after considering the amount of her usual paycheck, the total she would at the end of next month was...fifty four dollars.

She fell back against the sofa and blew out a breath. There was no way to make the math come out any better. Rent included the usual utilities, but there was food, her cellphone, car insurance, and those incidental costs of existing like laundry detergent and toilet paper and probably a hundred things she’d end up running out of next week. It felt like life was out to spite her. The cushion she had worked so hard to build up was gone, as was the paycheck that had just deposited. Garrett probably waited until Thursday just for that reason, to squeeze just a little bit more out of her and make her ruin complete.

She got up and went back into the bedroom. The ring box seemed to be mocking her as she reached for it, and she flipped it open and scowled down at the princess cut diamond. It was about one carat in size, flanked by two smaller diamonds, which gave the ring a total weight of about one and half carats. It was huge as far as engagement rings went, and she supposed that was more of Garrett showing off money he didn’t actually have. The truth was she didn’t care for it at all, the squared off princess cut being her least favorite, and the set of three gems gave it a bulk and gaudiness that wasn’t her style. But it was what he had picked out and proposed with, and because of that she made herself like it. The band was rose gold, her favorite, which was at least one thing he managed to remember about her.

Belle snapped the box shut and shook her head. The ring had to be worth something, and though there was only one place in town she could take it she was confident that Mr. Gold would give her a fair price. He had always been fair, even if he often came off as cold and eccentric. She’d never had a problem with Gold, though she didn’t really know him that well either. A few times she had gone out of her way to try to be nice and talk to him, but he seemed annoyed and eventually she gave up. She was friendly and polite when she saw him, not just because he was her landlord, or because we wielded some strange power over most of the citizens of Storybrooke, but because she sensed he was someone who didn’t have a lot of kindness in his life.

She set the ring down and yanked open the bottom dresser drawer. Inside was a small collection of what could only be described as ugly Christmas sweaters, leftover from the annual holiday parties that Granny would throw at the diner. Those were taken out and set aside. Beneath them was something that made Belle frown all over again, a pile of silk and lace, with a few price tags caught up on each other. It was the pile of lingerie that she’d been reserving for her wedding and honeymoon.

The sting of tears made her blink and she felt her earlier anger bubbling up again. She knelt down in front of the drawer and pulled all of it out, throwing it behind her on the bed. Then she set about separating it, untangling tags and eye hooks, and pairing up the things that went together. She hadn’t worn any of it yet, but the items with tags had been purchased too long ago to return, never mind that she had probably thrown out the receipts weeks ago. It wasn’t designer stuff or anything, but it had to be worth something, so she folded it all into a neat stack and placed it on top of the dresser. Then she set the ring box on top and resolved to take all of it to Gold’s shop tomorrow.

None of it would be missed.

#rumbelle #rumbelle fic #belle x mr. gold #lemon fic #;)#my rumbelle fic #fic #deals and debts #desperate souls

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