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slippery-snake · 2 months

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Biker!Logan & Biker!Remus x GN!Reader

AN: This idea has been haunting my mind since October last year akjssjsjdjdj. Ty lovely moot for helping give me ideas for this @darksides-dutchess

Warnings: Mention of possible injuries, mention of guys being pushy, Remus putting you in “danger” (he knows what he’s doing tho, overall wholesome

Logan

Keeps it secret

When you go to his place, he will NEVER let you enter his garage.

Staying with him after dark is a no no also

He claims that he just loves his free time

Totally not because he's actually going 100 mph every night on a customized bike

He's actually very good at keeping his secret

Unitl one day, after long night before, he left his helmet on the counter and you asked him about it

“It’s my friends’.”

“Your friend is a biker? That's so cool! Can I meet him!?”

He gets jealous lol

“…No.”

You keep pushing him until he breaks and confesses

At first, you’re surprised, then everything falls into place

You don’t think any differently of him, you actually think its kinda cool, and he appreciates it

not to mention its sexy as hell

He takes you riding sometimes, but double, triple and quadruple checks you have all your gear

NEVER taking you on the highway, fastest you’re going with him is 30 mph

Doesn’t bring you to street races, but doesn’t mind if you show up

He may or may not show off a bit for you

If you complain about some guy from work or school bothering you, he pulls up to the building/campus as loudly as possible to “pick you up”

Very chivalrous

Picks you up and takes you off the bike instead of letting you get off on your own

Doesn’t want you getting hurt

He also will just die if you ever get injured on his bike

You will never face a major injury, hes very careful

But if you sprain your ankle getting off, or have a rock hit your leg while riding, his boyfriend instincts kick in.

Instantly taking care of while feeling guilty

he’s having you take a break from the bike for few days

Remus

Extremely open about it

Everyone he knows is gonna know about it

It’s probably the first thing you know about him

He takes you riding everywhere, and may even consider getting you your own bike

Until then, he lets you make come decisions about customizing his bike

Or you’ll come back to his place to see your favorite color painted somewhere on his green and black biker as a surprise

Hes taking you to races all the time

Maybe even letting you ride with him

Occasionally, he makes a bet, saying the winner gets to take you home

At first you were mad at him for doing it

But after watching him race a couple of times, you realized remus was no fool

He was fast, obviously, but took risks that cost the other racer to lose.

He never really put a bid on you, since he always knew he was going to win from the beginning

While you loved going on rides with him, he could be a little punk at times

Sometimes, while riding casually, he just does wheelies with no real warning

Just a “Hey watch this” before you’re tilted towards the sky and holding onto him for dear life.

If theres a motorcycle in the lane next to you, he may rev his engine a bit to get them started, and next thing you know you’re 85 in a 30

He cares about your safety, but if you’re dating him you’re gonna have to be a bit rough at times.

If he sees you got a scratch, he gonna laugh it off

“You got your first mark, baby!”

Actually kinda proud, mostly since he has scars EVERYWHERE from falling off his bike so many time.

However, he makes the point that all of the falls he took were tactical and on purpose

If you do ever actually get hurt or feel scared, he doesn’t realize at first but oh boy when he does

Its like a different person

Instantly into protective bf mode

You’re riding in front of him, swaddling him as he speeds home or to the hospital

He doesn’t rest well until he knows for sure you’re okay, and the doctors or nurses will be getting an earful of insults if you think they aren’t listening to you or treating you right

He doesn’t get jealous often

Mostly because 90% of guys will be aware that you’re together

He is loud, everyone knows when your ride is outside

If you ever do get hit on, he's still not concerned.

He’ll just saunter on over and throw his arm over your shoulder, make you blush a lil, and look at the other guy like “yeah, they’re all mine”

If the guy is too pushy he just fights them, there is no inbetween.

#sanders sides #remus sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders x reader #logans sanders #sanders sides x reader #tss

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wildskissed · 6 months

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Spicy Edition:

Eve is honestly not big at all on casual sex, but that doesn't mean that it can't occur. She just prefers feelings more than some lust to have sex with someone, so if you wanna just have a one night stand, you gotta work for it, I'm sorry. She won't do it unless she feels like she's emotionally benefitting from it in the moment OR it will make her partner in the moment feel better, and she actually cares about them a little first. It's not the healthiest approach for sure, but if they're interested in her and she's interested enough and it's for their benefit, she could be persuaded.

Her idea of foreplay is more than a romantic date, or needy kisses, or fevered touching, or longing eye contact--she firmly believes in getting her partner off at least once with her hand and/or mouth before sex/sex. It's her way of memorizing her partner and their sounds and showing her appreciation for them that they'd even sleep with her in the first place. I know, I know: very unsurprisingly, her protective/giving nature also translates into enjoying going down on her partner in a very reverent manner with praise before and after.

Eve is a switch. Honestly, once a relationship is established in the sex area, she is a tad more dominant and has a slightly higher sex drive because she thoroughly enjoys sexual intimacy with someone she loves, but she thrives on adapting to her partner's needs. She also has needs of her own and sometimes it's just nice to not be the one that's 'in control'. She's also a big fan of riding but being railed is just as pleasing.

SHE LOVES CUDDLES. Honestly, she likes cuddles more than sex, but she especially is fond of naked cuddles. The intimacy of getting to run your fingertips along your partner's skin and be skin to skin is comforting for her. She's hard pressed to be the first person to leave the bed, actually.

Piggybacking off of that: cock-warming. She's absolutely into that.

Eve is into tying her partner down and then getting them off multiple times. Be that scarves indoors, or vines outdoors (druid magic is a trip, okay?). If you get deep in a relationship with her, she's going to ask to do this at least once.

She is a little more receptive to sex early in the morning, especially after a night of snuggling and sharing a bed, but she can get revved up late at night pretty easy too. That's not to say you can't rev her up at any point under the right circumstances, but yeah...

Now that she's got magic, she does use it during sex sometimes, or before in grand gestures. Actually, sometimes after in grand gestures of appreciation, but she enjoys the weave the SENSATIONS it brings, and how you can be one with your partner through it without the need of words.

Eve likes to mark her partner up, so she can see her handiwork. She also likes to trace and kiss scars, freckles, etc., and overall have her mouth and hands all over them. Praises will be whispered along fevered skin and they just won't stop.

While she is sensitive about the scars on her neck, she will absolutely MELT if you kiss them before/during/after sex. Kissing her neck is actually also a surefire way to turn her own if it's followed by words of affirmation in relation to the scars.

She does like to dress up in lingerie, and due to the sensation of the material, lace is her preferred type.

Eve will honestly try anything at least once. If there is a kink you've got, or an idea you wanna roleplay, etc., she'll be super receptive about it. She's big on sexual intimacy in all its forms and that means communication about what does it for you and what you'd like to explore. That's just as IMPORTANT as the rest of it.

She admittedly has a little breeding kink, I am sorry. I say a 'little' because it's conditional to the type of relationship you have with her outside of sex.

Eve is pretty POSSESSIVE of her partners, tbh, but she'll never make you stay if you don't want to. It more extends to she prefers sex behind closed doors, but also gets off a little on semi public stuff where people could happen on you but aren't actively there.

She's also not huge on poly relationships because of this unless every person in the relationship feels the same amount of wanted and heard. She's just not super great at sharing, so poly relationships would be work, which they should be anyway--everyone involved should be EQUAL.

#╰•★ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ᴀ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴛʜɪɴɢ★ [headcanon]#╰•★ᴄᴀʀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ɴᴀᴍᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍʏ ʙᴇᴅᴘᴏꜱᴛ★ [nsft]#that's so many things but oh well #there's prolly more too but this is enough for now

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themadauthorshatter · 2 years

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DAD!CHARLES X TOPPAT!HENRY PART 12!!!!

No flashy intro this time, but you'll still love this, trust me😉

PREVIOUSLY: Charles's withdrawl is in high gear, and Cameron's attempt at starting a coup was mildly unsuccessful

For full context, here are the previous parts:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

ONWARD!!!

We begin with a TV perspective this time and it's of Cameron's phone as their friends send texts asking where they are and if they're okay since they all but vanished into thin air

Can Cameron text them back? No. Henry had their phone tampered with so that they can't talk to their friends

To add insult to injury, they actually can't talk to ANYONE on their phone, something that deeply upsets them as Galeforce texts them and asks if they're okay and if they're safe.

Cameron is currently not okay because they're back in their room doing some origami as Henry walks in and gives them a present: their favorite book series; they read the first book, but didn't get to the rest because they got kidnapped.

Henry admits that he's been a little harsh with them and wants the two to not be on bad terms with them. And they're birthday is around the corner and he wanted to give them something so he could show that he wasn't completely evil.

Cameron thanks him after a minute, mostly because they want him out of their room. Henry does not leave and instead toys with a piece of Cameron's hair, commenting on how it's actually grown a bit long since their arrival.

For context, Cameron was on the station for a week before Charles was brought aboard, and it's now been about three more weeks

Back on track, Cameron admits that they need to cut it soon, but Henry lightly turns down the idea because of how nice they look with long hair. Sensing the BS, Cameron asks if they can have their hair cut as a birthday present, but Henry gives them an A for effort.

Cameron admits that they don't care what he thinks because they’ll sheer off their own hair if they have to, not afraid to ruin how they look.

Henry is a little upset that they're hellbent on doing everything they can to go against him, but relents and says that if it helps them sleep, they can do whatever they want with their hair; he was just giving his two cents on how they look since they've only ever had short hair.

Cameron is quiet again and Henry finally comes clean on the REAL reason he's here: dinner.

More context: It's a different day, like 3 or 4 days after part eleven

Back on track, Cameron isn't exactly amused because they have a meal every day three times a day, but Henry clarifies:

He, Charles, and Cameron are going to make dinner. And they'll work together to do it, bond as a family

Cameron is more than apalled, not willing to play his game.

Too bad because Henry gives them a new choice: they can join him and Charles or they can stay in their room and starve for the rest of the day, how about that?

Cameron does call his bluff and say he won't ACTUALLY let them starve to death, but Henry, as he gets up, admits that they're right. He doesn't want them dead, so he'd still let them eat. Eventually. And if Charles asks, he'll be none the wiser because it's not like he can do anything to stop Henry, even though Henry's happy to see him try.

Cameron calls him despicable and Henry leaves, saying he'll see them at dinner.

CUT TO CHARLES!!

He's not having a good time, as you can imagine, and is trying to stay 'centered' by tying a tie on his own, doing it in the mirror. It's not easy because the texture on his fingers makes his teeth hurt, he can't get either side to be even, and even ties it backwards.

Charles can tell he's messing it up, and it hurts him emotionally because he can't focus and can't tie a tie, which means he is unable to form a good plan and get himself and Cameron home

Luckily, Henry stops in and asks if he needs any help. Charles does not want help, but Henry's bad at listening.

While Henry helps Charles, he gives the run down on dinner, ultimately revealing that he'll basically starve Cameron if they don't join in.

Charles, repulsed, asks Henry why he's doing this, as Cameron is a child and has no part in what Henry thinks is between him and Charles. Henry admits that, yes, while Cameron wasn't around for Charles's first go-about on the station, they're around now and they're mouthy, which means they can cause him problems he doesn't want or need, specifically with the government and The Wall.

Charles remarks on how Henry is still afraid of the Wall even after eacaping, but Henry admits that Charles wouldn't understand, being on the other side of the bars, as it were

He finishes up helping Charles before the two go to the kitchen, where Cameron is waiting for them. As they prepare to make dinner together, Cameron picks up a kitchen knife, a very sizable one at that and looks between Charles and Henry, non-verbally asking if they should go for it and 'Julius Caesar' Henry's delusional ass.

He shakes his head immediately, both because it's a HORRIBLE idea and because he doesn't want his child to go THAT far.

Thankfully, Cameron tucks the knife away before Henry notices amd decides to play along, still bitter, but at least complying with what's going on, which makes Charles feel better

ON EARTH!!!!

We catch up to Galeforce as he's visited by Victoria and Rupert. Thus far, they have tried contacting Henry and the Toppats, but have received no answers, which cannot be a good thing. Add to that with Cameron's disappearance being reported by their friends and neighbors of Charles's reporting him as missing too and wanting to go on search looking for them both, and they have some pretty big problems now.

Victoria isn't too worried because this can actually be used to the government's favor. If they play it right, people will be more careful with anything priceless, security measures will skyrocket, and heists will slow down, then one of two things will happen: either the clan will turn against Henry or they can attack or arrest the clan.

It's not a bad idea, but, as Rupert points out, there's no guarantee that Charles and Cameron will make it out in one piece. And there had to be a way to lock up the clan and KEEP THEM LOCKED UP, or they'll just get out again.

After a moment, Galeforce orders them to keep contacting the clan and Henry and try to get ahold of Charles and Cameron, even telling them to keep their ears to the ground so they know the word going around.

They agree and leave, though Matteo walks in and checks in on Galeforce, as he knows this is a lot of stress for him.

Galeforce is barely hanging in there. His family is gone, Charles is in danger again, and now Cameron's in the line of fire too, and they're 15.

Matteo, while he doesn't fully understand hiw it feels, still shares his condolences, as Charles is a good friend and Cameron is a good kid and doesn't deserve to have this happen to them.

Galeforce is silent, but Matteo also sharea his aligence with Galeforce, explaining how he has friends that are open to lending a hand because while they aren't friends with Charles, they do at least like him and hold him in their good graces.

Galeforce is too grateful word words and thanks Matteo for not being a stone-cold ass.

BACK ON THE ORBITAL STATION!!!!!!

Dinner has wrapped up amd Cameron is in their room, fresh out of a shower, when they get a knock on the door.

IT'S CHARLES!!!

The two hug and sit down on Cameron's bed, agreeing that dinner was very unpleasant and that they're glad it's over.

Cameron also fakes having a broken nail or papercut to show Charles that they still have the knife, saying they need to hide it so no one gets a hold of it.

While Charles lightly scolds them, he does give them props for getting the knife in the first place, because now they are armed and dangerous.

Cameron also admits that they might use it to cut their hair on their own because Henry likes it long. Charles asks them not to and to instead let him try cutting it; he still has trouble focusing, but he can still do things.

Here is a turn because Cameron explains that THEY can do something too; they stole a kitchen knife and no one’s noticed or stopped them.

Charles counters that the reason no one's stopped them is because they want to see what Cameron will do now that they have a weapon.

Cameron snaps that they don't care what happens because they're either dead or still stuck in space anyway.

Charles refuses to have that be Cameron's end-all, be-all and, in a moment of "autopilot" tells them that they wouldn't be here if they'd just listened to him when he told them to stay home.

Cameron, also on "autopilot" corrects him: They wouldn't be here if Charles shot Henry, period.

Charles snaps, very tearfully, that he knows he should've shot Henry, that both their lives would have been better if he'd just shot Henry, but he couldn't because he's a coward, because he sees a person as they are first rather than what they did in the past

It silences them both and leaves them shaken and stirred, and with a lot of regret for what they said

And it does not help when Henry walks into the room and whistles that the two really are father and child for screaming at each other the way they did. Seeing as how the two obviously need space, he pulls a shell-shocked Charles out of Cameron's room, and tells Cameron to think about what they said and did for a little while.

With that, he leaves, locking the door behind him and leaving Cameron alone as they walk up to the door and somewhat cry for Charles

Speaking of, he's quiet and on the verge of an emotional breakdown as Henry guides him back to their room. Henry, seeing the very clear distress on his face, tells him that Cameron does take after Charles, as he didn't adjust that well his first time on the station either.

Charles, understandably being an emotional wreck, shoves Henry back and asks him why that is, why neither him or Cameron want to be on the station at all. He deserves what's happening because he basically brought it on himself, but Cameron is a child. They have friends, they go to school, they have a normal life, something Charles never got to experience because of his upbringing and being raised in the army and government, and yet here they are in space being used as a tool against Charles to stay in place all because he loves them.

Henry is not amused AT ALL and reminds Charles that Cameron is only on the station because Charles will escpae otherwise, and because he can't have everyone attacking him for ONE pilot and his kid disappearing, and he knows that once he steps foot on Earth, if Charles and Cameron got out, there's going to be Hell to pay and that's the entire clan ready to hunt down and kill both Charles and Cameron for making them lose their best leader.

It horrifies Charles even more and silences him, though he is not down for the count, as he secretly hopes Cameron can hide that knife they have.

Henry kisses Charles and they go to their room, but Charles, even with his mind reeling, tries to think about what's changed so he can see what options are left for him and Cameron

#henry stickmin #the henry stickmin collection #'long post'#charles calvin #toppat!henry #dad!charles #oc #arguing #manipulation tw #cameron has a weapon!!#sorry this took so long!

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iam93percentstardust · 3 years

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Stony, 18+, Steve just likes to fuck Tony is his fancy cars

Ta-da!

As always, everything I write is on ao3 too

If asked, Tony would say that there are many benefits to dating a billionaire.

He learned that from the people he’s dated: Tiberius, who was in it for the fame; Sunset for the money; Rumiko for the… well, Tony wasn’t actually sure what Rumiko got out of the deal but she must have gotten it because two days before their first anniversary, he’d found her with Tiberius of all people.

But then there was Steve. Steve, who was too good for him, who Tony had met at the opening of his first exhibit and fallen in love with after a single evening, who held him like he was something precious and not something that a thousand other people had used. Steve, who had been asked about the benefits of dating a billionaire and, after he’d punched the reporter, coolly informed her that the billionaire was the benefit.

Which.

Well.

No one said things like that.

But Steve did. And he believed it. He really truly felt that the best thing to come out of their relationship was Tony himself. Tony loved him for that. Well. He loved him for lots of reasons—his innate goodness and his big heart only two of them—but the fact that Steve loved Tony for Tony was pretty high up there.

It was a little difficult sometimes when Tony was used to throwing money at his partners to make up for his mistakes, used to paying for everything, used to wielding his power to get them what they wanted, and Steve would just turn all of that away instead of accepting the extravagant gifts and favors, but they made it work. Steve made him want to make it work, and Tony would do just about anything to keep them this way. He knew that Steve was the same way about him: willing to do whatever it takes to make Tony happy, to make them work.

Anyway—Steve’s opinion was that dating Tony was the best part about dating a billionaire, but if Tony had to pick one other thing that Steve enjoyed, it was the cars.

Steve’s preferred mode of transportation was the motorcycle his mom had gotten for him, of course, but he adored Tony’s garage of cars, particularly the ones that went fast. Tony had never met a speed demon like Steve before, and he loved taking him out to Highway 1 in the middle of the night, when no one else was on the road, and watching the look on Steve’s face as Steve pressed down on the accelerator and kept his foot there as they whipped around curves at twice the recommended speed.

It was the hottest thing Tony had ever seen, second to none. He never had a single problem with Steve screeching to a stop at one of the scenic outlooks, tossing Tony into the backseat, and fucking him until he screamed—because if there was one thing Steve loved more than the cars, it was Tony with the cars.

“Look how gorgeous you are,” Steve murmured, running a reverent hand down Tony’s heaving side.

Tony whined, hands twisting in the silk tie keeping him pinned to the door handle. He’d known when Steve had insisted on taking the Aston Martin out that the night was going to end like this. Steve only wanted the four-seaters when he wanted to fuck Tony in them. But this—tying Tony to the door handle while he fucked him just slow enough to keep him on the edge instead of tipping over—that was new. He hadn’t even taken Tony’s panties off, not that he’d needed to—they were designed for easy access and to look pretty and that was about it—but it was the principle of the thing.

“Steve,” Tony whined. “Move.”

Steve just chuckled darkly, bending down to bite a mark into Tony’s throat. Tony keened, arching his neck to give Steve greater access. “It’s cute that you think you can make me do what you want,” he said. And then he pulled out, that ass.

“No,” Tony gasped, hands straining in their bonds to reach for Steve, pull him back in so he has to fuck him. But he couldn’t. Steve was too good at knots for that, damned boy scout.

Steve knelt up as best as he could with the low ceiling, hand stroking his cock lazily. “Could get off right now,” he threatened. “Could spill all over that pretty red lace and leave you like that, all hard and aching for it.”

“You wouldn’t,” Tony replied, despite knowing that Steve absolutely would. Most of the time, Steve was the most generous lover in the world, seeing to Tony’s needs before his own, making sure that they both came at least twice, holding him as close as Tony wanted afterward. But then there were times like tonight, when Steve could be mean. Tony loved both sides of Steve equally, he really did, but he loved getting to come too.

Steve’s eyes gleamed dark and hard in the scant moonlight filtering in through the tinted windows. “Are you challenging me, sweetheart?” he asked, voice silky smooth. Tony shivered and then mewled when Steve palmed his cock through the lace. It scratched against his cock, catching on the sensitive skin and making him arch up into the touch.

“’s too much,” he cried. “Steve, baby, please.”

Steve’s hand was off of him in an instant, back to stroking himself as he stared down at Tony. “You sound so good, Tony,” he groaned, adding a twist at the end of each stroke. “Look so good too, all pretty as a picture spread out on those expensive seats, not even caring if you ruin them. Bet I could make you spill across all that fancy leather, tell you to clean it up with your tongue, and you’d do it too, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?”

Tony whined, the leg not pinned against the back of the seat coming up to hook around Steve’s leg in a futile attempt to tug him back down. He would do it, he knew. He’d do anything that Steve asked of him, even if he knew that this in particular was an empty threat. Steve wouldn’t make him lick anything if he didn’t know what else had touched it. But the thought, the picture Steve’s words painted of licking his own come off three-thousand dollar seats, had him arching again.

“Please,” he begged. “Please, Steve, fuck me, come inside me, please.”

“Is that what you want? Want me filling you up?” Steve shoved two fingers inside his empty hole, rubbing firmly against his prostate. Tony hissed, pushing back into them. His cock was leaking, so ready to spill if Steve would just—Steve pulled his fingers back out and Tony nearly sobbed.

“Your cock, baby. Want your cock.”

Steve’s face softened almost imperceptibly. He leaned down to brush a sweet kiss across Tony’s open, panting mouth. “Okay, sweetheart,” he said and pushed back in, drawing a long moan from Tony as Steve filled him all over again.

Steve set a punishing pace, hips slapping lewdly against Tony’s ass. The windows had long since fogged up, Tony noticed as he threw his head back, and he admired the droplets rolling down the glass for a moment before a hard thrust brought him back into the moment.

“Feel so good around me,” Steve grunted, licking a stripe up the side of Tony’s neck. Tony deliberately tightened around him, making him moan loudly. “Could be in you all day, coming inside you over and over again ‘til you’re as full as you want. You could take me, couldn’t you, sweetheart?”

Tony whined loudly, hands clenching on the tie. He would die, but if that was what Steve wanted, he would do it.

“That’s right,” Steve crooned, nuzzling his throat. “You’d take whatever I gave you, Tony. Feel so—ah!—sweetheart!”

His hips jerked against Tony twice more before he came with a shout. Tony could feel him coming inside his loose hole and he twisted, desperate to come as well. But Steve stilled him with a hand on his hip, petting him soothingly as Tony backed away from that edge again. He pulled out slowly, letting Tony feel every inch of his softening cock.

Tony could feel Steve’s come dripping out of him, sliding down to stain the leather seats and the back of his panties. He clenched, trying to hold it all inside him, but it was hard when Steve was still holding his legs apart so he could thumb at the rim of his hole. Steve made an approving noise and then leaned over him again to kiss him, lips sliding softly against Tony’s.

“You look so used, sweetheart,” Steve whispered. “All puffy and red, my come sliding out of you cause you’re just too tired to hold it in.”

Tony whispered back, “Empty.”

“I know. I’ve got something to help.” Steve reached over into the front seat, rummaging around for a moment before he made a triumphant sound and came back with something hidden in his hand. Tony got the barest glimpse of red and gold and he groaned, thinking about the plug Steve had to be holding. It was the perfect size to tease his prostate and it vibrated. He couldn’t imagine wearing it all the way back to the mansion, but he let Steve slide it in him anyway, not even bothering to put up a token protest.

“You still okay?” Steve asked, smoothing Tony’s sweaty hair away from his face. Tony turned his head just enough to kiss Steve’s palm and then nodded. “You want me to turn it on while we drive so you can come or do you want to wait until we’re back to the house so I can fuck you again?”

“Wait.” Tony knew he sounded exhausted—who wouldn’t when they had someone as incredible as Steve wearing them out? Steve smiled and kissed him again.

“Okay, sweetheart.” Steve picked him up and slid him into the passenger seat, chuckling as Tony cried out when the plug jostled against his sensitive prostate. He pulled his own pants back up and got out, retrieving a blanket from the trunk to throw over Tony’s naked body before sliding into the driver’s seat. “You still sure about that?”

Tony weighed the benefits of coming now or waiting until Steve fucked him and nodded decisively. “Just don’t hit every pothole on the way home.”

Steve shot him a wicked grin and revved the engine. The vibrations shot straight up through the plug, thrumming through Tony’s body. Tony arched up out of his seat, sobbing at the feeling.

“Oh, Tony,” Steve murmured, pulling out of the overlook and back onto the highway. “I don’t need to hit every pothole.” He pressed the accelerator down to the floor and sped away.

#stevetony #nsfk #alle writes #alle answers #if you like please consider reblogging #Anonymous

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kazuwhora · 3 years

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babes! i love how hardworking you’re getting and the amount of post you send out are always amazing. plus the comments you leave on my posts always make me smile.

i’ve stalked your page just to wait for a matchup, i find it adorable and i think you’re so good at it too~

so here i am to ask for a matchup for tokyo rev?!

i’m 5’3, average weight with a little curve, i have an outstanding chest size though(meh) i have long black hair and wear glasses. i have a septum and two tattoos.

i’m a pisces and i’m very deadpan and sarcastic, very very quiet and stand-offish. i only have a close circle of friends and even with them i’m just naturally quiet. INTP as well.

my hobbies are writing (i will spend days just writing, it’s a hobby i’ve always loved) collecting manga, and watching anime/dry humorous shows.

okay, i think i’ve said enough. have a good day my love, drink water and eat food food food! <3

OF COURSE MY QUEEN I didn't know you're an INTP (my faves) but ty for requesting!! ily and I am happy to match you up with my boy rindou

THERE IS SOME SUGGESTIVE CONTENT IN THIS SORRY IN ADVANCE its nothing blatant just running along that theme.

I keep doing this with matching INTP's with other INTP's but I can't help it because it's just such a perfect match. like honestly, put two ENTP's together and it's fucking chaos. imagine two gojo's together, or two hanma's, or two sanzu's. Us ENTP's are too much to be paired with our shared type. Imagine two ISFP's together. emotion central. that's two takemitchi's together. it just doesn't work?? but INTP. boy. two mikeys together, two rindou's together. it's peaceful. it's calm. it's literal bliss with a hint of spiciness because INTP's value intellect brain wise, and intensity sex wise.

anyways. analyzing just strictly the cognitive functions, both of you are the thinkers. because you share the Ti (introverted thinking) cognitive function, the two of you are able to view situations or problems in life with an objective lens in order to assess what needs to be done and how. this makes for a pretty well balanced harmony when it comes to arguments and interpersonal struggles. however, you also share the cognitive function of Si (introverted sensing) which acts as many have described, like a mental library where you store information and analyzations about various situations for later use. this is often why people might view the two of you as weird, or a little off putting when you're together. in sharing this function stack, you may come off as intimidating, or almost robotic when this function is bounced off of each other in public. that being said, I feel like the fact that combined with your pisces nature (which is very emotional, and can be described as ethereal as far as general vibes go even if you don't notice it yourself), you will be the slightly (emphasis on slightly) more approachable and more normal acting one as the emotional pull of the pisces allows you to perceive other's emotions and energy far better than rindou can. I don't think rindou's birthday was ever published but based on his character type I can only assume he's a capricorn (if I were to take a guess I'd guess you were either a cap moon or a sag moon), and if he's not then he's an aquarius. regardless, both of these options are very reserved and fall deep into the INTP nature of that Si function responsible for the analyzation and mental library which basically means he's the fucking weirdo and you're also the fucking weirdo but you hide it better because two fucking weirdo's would get the two of you nowhere. also when I say weirdo pls know its a good thing because there is nothing I love more than INTP's okay? ok.

essentially, you two can be scary as fuck, intimidating as fuck, and powerful as fuck together, but when things need to go a certain way to lean in your favour, you will be the one that is the most able to take on that challenge and adjust yourself to get shit done whereas rindou will absolutely not be able to shift his ways at all. like dont even try.

lets go beyond an analyzation of mbti and astrology now because this is where it gets fun!

can we talk about how obsessed rindou is with your body. like he loves your personality because you mirror him so well- that much is a given. but fr, lets talk about how completely infatuated he is with the entirety of you. he's very handsy with you in private. not so much in public as again, that intp/likely cap mix is gonna keep him in an observation mindset, but in private he has no choice but to release all that pent up restriction he was so good about during the day. it's like, if he is good and holds back all day it makes it 10x more enjoyable when he finally gets to release that with you in private. this is a big part of your relationship tbh. lots of indirect teasing from you throughout the day- but not so much that its obvious what you're doing. you might not even realize you're doing it but you'll pay for it later.

he wants all of you all at once. handsy as fuck. he needs that intensity and it literally never goes away. like even after years you'll still be left wondering how not a single bit of that passion has dwindled.

he's the type that is gonna wrap your hair around his hand and choke you with it. sorry, but he just cant help it. he is obsessed with touching every part of you and your hair is no exception. same thing with your tattoos as far as the touchiness goes. he needs to touch them. he'll be fucking you and he'll catch a glimpse and it will literally give him the most obscure burst of butterflies. like ?? then later he'll tell you that you should get more but he wont go on from there when you ask why or what you should get because just the thought of it gets him going again and he really doesn't feel like explaining when it gets to that point.

he's extremely protective of you but never call him out on that. he knows it. he knows hes fucking whipped for you. he'll bend over backwards for you but if you mention how kind and caring he's been he'll be like "ok I'll treat u like shit then" and then ignore you for the rest of the day. and then feels bad abt it but cant admit he's wrong

you'll mix ur glasses up a lot especially if you're in a rush trying to skirt around him in the morning. he'll think ur dumb when you accidentally put his glasses on and can't see shit. don't blame him for thinking ur dumb though. his brain doesn't know how to compute how cute he actually thinks it is so he just replaces it with dumb :))))

and one last thought I'll leave u on is bonten rindou with his purple fucking mullet who really just wants you to pull his hair while he does all the work eating u out is all :)))))))))) enjoy that thought

#I made urs extra long because im now suddenly rly involved in this ship #sorry #:))))))))))))))))#LOVE U THO THANK U FOR SENDING THIS WAS GOOD #if u hate it pls unfollow and block me because I cannot live with the thought of disappointing u

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catxsnow · 4 years

Text

PROTECT YOU D.W.

Request: Could I request something with angst and fluff for Damian Wayne please? One where there's a mission that he isn't involved in because he's injured but his s/o is on it but then he freaks out when her coms are off bcs reader might have been injured or dead but when they all get back to the cave s/o is fine. Thanks!

Warning: angst, fluff, Older!Damian

A/N: I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of writing for Damian

GIF not mine

Word Count: 2.5k

Damian hated being left out of a mission. No matter how damaged he was, there was always still argument that he could pull his weight on the team. The time that he had a concussion he had convinced Bruce to still let him go out, and another time when he had a sprained wrist. Damian always found a way to make sure that he was still going out as Robin, especially when you were going with them as well.

You and Damian had been dating just under two years. He arrived at the manor just about a year after you did. It took a while for him to warm up to you, to anyone there, but you seemed to be the easiest to get along with. Damian found himself allured by you. Your skills were comparable to his and when you had put him on his ass in a matter of minutes, he had some respect for you as well.

The more you trained together, the more he was impressed by you. It didn't help that the longer you spent time together, the more you realized that you had grown immense feelings for him. Feelings that were too stubborn to go away or be ignored. It was why, when Damian had won a spar against you, arms pinned to the mat and hovering above him, you had acted on impulse and kissed him.

He was shocked at first, unsure of where this had come from. It didn't take long for his grip on you to loosen, leaving you just enough wiggle room to flip your positions. Damian wasn't sure if he was more surprised by the fact that you had kissed him or that you had used it again him to win your spar.

Either way, it had led to more kisses, more time together, and a relationship that Bruce was weary about. Damian had already acted so high and mighty when he was fighting as Robin, he couldn't imagine what he was going to be like when the two of you fought together. And he was right to be worried.

Damian became protective of you. He wouldn't let you leave on a mission, or even patrol, without him. He would be the one to constantly have your back because there was no one he trusted more to keep you safe than himself. Damian had fallen in love with you and he couldn't bare the thought of losing you to anything.

It was why Damian had once again tried to convince his father that he was healthy enough to go on a mission. His arm was in a cast, but that didn't stop him from wanting to go along side you against a dangerous mission. It was the first time that you were going without him since you had been dating and he was terrified.

It lead to comments about keeping you safe, being there to protect you, and how useless his brothers were. You couldn't stand by and watch any longer as Damian continued to be spoiled with getting what he wanted. This behavior that he had - about only him being able to keep you safe - it drove you crazy.

"Damian Wayne!" You bellowed. Your voice echoed through the walls of the cave and had caused everyone to freeze in their spots. Damian was yelling at his father to let him go with them as well. He desperately wanted to be there for you, there was just something in his gut telling him that you weren't going to be safe that night.

Damian stopped arguing with Bruce and winced. He slowly turned to face you with his mouth still agape. You stood there with your suit on and hands on your hips, nothing but disappointment fell in your eyes.

Dick looked wearily between Tim and you, unsure of what was about to go down. It wasn't very often that you had yelled at him, much less using his whole name. The tension in the batcave grew as you continued to say nothing until it got unbearable.

"I am a grown adult, I can take care of myself without you being there all the time!" You finally snapped. "I'm tired of you acting like I'm less of a valued member of this team. You go around making it seem like I can't take care of myself! It's degrading. I don't need you to protect me, I never needed you to protect me."

"Beloved, that's not-"

"Save it, Damian," you cut him off, pulling the cowl above your head. He watched silently as you got on top of you bike, revving it up to leave. "Listen to your father, stay here."

Even when you and Damian went on missions together, before leaving the cave, you had always told each other you loved them. There was always the chance that something would go wrong and that someone wouldn't make it back. It wasn't a risk that you were willing to take about missing a final 'I love you'.

However, as you sped out of the cave without another word, Damian had the words hanging off the tip of his tongue. His head hung low as the rest of his family looked at him. They had all known that he was protective of you and that sometimes he did push the limits to keep you safe.

He had never known that you felt that strongly about this. Damian groaned in frustration at your fight, he hated arguing with you, especially right before a mission. You were more reckless when you were angry, and this time he wasn't there for you. No one was there for you, this mission had you going solo.

Bruce looked down to his son, unsure of what to say to him to make things better. He simply squeezed his shoulder before jumping into the batmobile. Tim got in beside him and Dick on his motorcycle.

"Damian," Dick called out to him as the other two left. "They're going to be fine out there, okay? (Y/N) is strong. They aren't angry with you, trust me."

"Better catch up, Grayson."

Damian was freaking out.

His father had announced half way through the mission that your comms had been turned off. He wasn't sure if you had done this yourself or something worse. Either way, if it wasn't for Alfred nearly tying him down to the chair, he would have been off searching the city for you. Damian was terrified about what was going on with you.

He knew that this feeling in his gut should have been something he worried about more. Damian should have known that you shouldn't have gone out on your own, he knew that something bad was going to happen. Bruce had full faith that you were fine, he wasn't worried about your comms being off - which had only frustrated Damian even more.

They should be out searching the city for you to see what happened, not come back to the cave where nothing was being done. The mission had been successful, there was no need for worry about where you were. You were the farthest part from the city, it made sense that you would arrive last.

Yet, even Dick was starting to get a little nervous about your whereabouts. It wasn't common for you to turn your comms off, at least not for this long. Whatever happened to you out there, it had to have been for good reason. There was no point in poking the fire with Damian and getting him more worried about you.

It was different for Dick to see Damian so worried about someone. Of course he worried about the rest of his family, but nothing like he worried about you. In Damian's nineteen short years of life, he never expected to love someone so much. It was an unbreakable love between the two of you, no matter how much you argued.

"Where are they!" Damian yelled. He wanted to take his father's vehicle and race out in the streets to find you. He would have too if he wasn't constantly held back.

"(Y/N) said that they were fine right when the mission was over," Tim tried to reassure his brother. "There's nothing to worry about, Damian."

"Bullshit, Drake," Damian snapped. He paused his pacing to glare at his brother. "(Y/N) never does this. Something must be wrong." It was true, you never turned off your comms unless you were meant to go dark. Damian only hoped that you were doing this because you were mad at him still, not because you were injured.

The only thing he hated seeing more than you getting hurt, was you being mad at him. Whenever the two of your fought, there was always a very short period of time before one of you apologized. Damian prayed that this wasn't going to be escalated. He didn't know that you felt so strongly about this, otherwise he would have been less over protecting of you.

The echo of your bike bounced off the walls of the cave. Damian eagerly perked up from his place to wait your arrival. He had no idea what kind of shape you were going to be in when you finally got here, he was worried about you. Damian stood just beside the place you parked your motorcycle with an anxious look.

The second you put the kickstand down and removed your helmet, Damian had thrown himself in your arms. He pulled away from you only to to place his lips on yours. All the concern and anxiety he was feeling melted away with your touch. It was always you that was able to calm him down.

"I was so worried about you, beloved," Damian admitted to you. His eyebrows furrowed as he noticed the small cut along your cheek and the frown on your face. The pad of his thumb gently wiped below your wound. It was then that he noticed the blood dripping down your neck as well. "What happened?"

"Nothing that I couldn't handle on my own," you assured. The tightness in your voice caught him off guard - you were still mad at him. That was confirmed as you pushed past him and everyone else waiting for you. Just as you were about to leave the cave, it was Bruce that stopped you.

"Why were your comms off," he asked. Damian wasn't the only one worried about you. Not to mention that turning them off could have endangered the whole mission - lucky for you, it hadn't. Without another word, you ripped off your cowl and tossed and threw it backwards for him to catch.

The earpiece in your cowl had been damaged. Lucky for you, the bullet shot in your direction had just grazed your suit, not your head. The cowl seemed to satisfy Bruce's question enough, he didn't say anything else as you left to your room.

"I think you messed up," Dick pointed out the obvious. Damian shot a deathly glare at him and stormed out of the cave as well. At that moment, he didn't care if you were mad at him, he was just glad that you were alive.

He hovered by your door for a moment, debating whether or not to knock or just walk in. As he heard the shower going, he decided to just wait on your bed (shared bed at that point, Damian rarely slept in his own anymore). For once, the room seemed foreign to him, like he shouldn't be in there without you.

This fear that resided within him wasn't fear that he normally had when you went on missions, this was a fear that you had finally had enough of him. This kind of fear overpowered every other emotion trying to break through. It left him unable to sit still and cowering from his own thoughts.

The second that he heard the shower turn off, Damian felt as if his heart was going to burst through his chest. His leg bounced up and down as he waited for you to walk out.

"Damian," you spoke as you opened the door. A towel was wrapped around you and water droplets fell from your hair. You knew that he was waiting in your room for you, and yet the surprise of seeing him so nervous shocked you.

"Beloved, please," Damian stood up to meet you. "I'm sorry that I made you fell this way. I know that you're capable of taking care of yourself, I know you don't need me to protect you."

You said nothing as you continued to pull out a pair of pajamas. Damian sighed at your silence. He hastily grabbed both your hands and forced you to face him. The fear in his eyes took you back. Damian didn't show fear, he always exuded confidence. Seeing him like this, you knew that he was being truthful.

"I love you, (Y/N)," Damian told you. "I only argued to go on these missions because... because I'm petrified that one day something is going to go wrong and that I'm not going to be able to say goodbye, or you to I. If I'm ever going to die out there, I want to make sure that your face is the last I see."

Your bottom lip wobbled as he spoke. You tore your hands out of his so you could pull him into a hug. Tears spilled down your cheeks - you couldn't bare the thought of losing Damian. "I love you, Damian. So, much. I'm sorry that I was angry with you, I know you just want what's best."

Damian shook his head - you were right to be angry, he just wished that he had known about it sooner. Your hands rest at the back of his neck as you pulled him in for a heart-warming kiss.

"Stay with me tonight?" You asked, playing with the few baby hairs at the back of his neck. Your touch sent a chill up his spine. The lingering water on your skin left you cold and you craved the warmth that Damian always had radiating off of him.

"Of course."

"You might not always be able to protect me out on the streets, but you always keep me safe from the nightmares that haunt me."

At the end of the day, that was the protection that you needed the most. You didn't need him to hover over you like a child when you were protecting Gotham. You needed him to remind you that your nightmares weren't real, that they were nothing but a figment of your imagination. Damian was real, and he knew how to keep you safe.

You would always need Damian, even if it wasn't in the way that he imagined.

#damian wayne #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne oneshot #damian wayne x reader #older!damian #dc imagine #dc one shot #dc #fluff #angst #batfam #batfam imagine #robin imagine #robin

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

Text

Bouncing Through The Years

Helllloooooo, this fic is set in @antarctic-bay s fd au! Please keep in mind what I write might not be canon! (Sorry for the tag)

Skeppy and Techno friendship fic!! :DD

There are no real set ages in this fic, it’s just Skeppy and Techno from a young age bonding over Skeppys trampoline and being buddies!

Swearing but you probably already knew that

Hope you enjoy! (:

Techno had just finished the dishes when someone started pounding on their front door, he would have ignored it but he heard;

“Techno! Techno! Open the door!”

Techno dried off his hands and opened the door, Skeppy standing there panting, a hand on his chest.

“Techno- I got- I got a trampoline!” He wheezed.

“Really?”

“Yes! Come on, I wanna show you!” Skeppy grabbed his arm, Techno shook him off.

“Okay hang on,” Techno started pulling on his shoes while Skeppy bounced in the doorway.

“I’m going to Skeppy’s!” He yelled.

“Don’t care!” Tommy yelled back.

“Tell Wilbur, asshole!” He turned and followed Skeppy out of their apartment building and down the street while Skeppy babbled about how he got it.

“My neighbor had it for a few years so we got it second hand.” He explained.

“And it’s a birthday gift?”

“Yeah! An early one so I can still use it before it gets cold.”

They went around the side of Skeppy’s house and tugged the huge white plastic gate open and Techno saw the trampoline. It was huge with a sagging net and ripped foam around the edges but other than that it looked brand new.

They pulled off their shoes and climbed through the opening in the net, Skeppy zipped it back up, and they started bouncing.

“Wait wait wait, I saw this on TV- I can do a flip, back up.” Skeppy nudged Techno away.

“Oh here we go-”

“Shut up and let me do this!” Skeppy shuffled from foot to foot, Techno snorted.

“Are you trying to rev up?”

“No! I’m just hyping myself up!” Skeppy took a deep breath then launched himself forwards, tucking his head close to his chest with an outstretched arm, and actually managed to do a flip.

And also punch a hole in the net.

He had flipped with his arm out and was too close to the edge. Skeppy pulled his arm out and shrieked while Techno cackled.

“Well, you did a flip.” Techno said, biting his tongue through a grin.

“Shut up!” Techno laughed harder.

“Okay, okay it’s fine, this is fine. I can patch that up later- probably.”

“Good job Skeppy.”

“You’re such a jerk!” Skeppy snapped back with no heat, he perked up a minute later. “I know a game we can play!”

“What is it?”

“It’s called popcorn, one person sits in the middle and curls up and the other people bounce around them and just to get the person in the middle to lose their grip and- like open their arms! Like a popcorn kernel!”

Techno nodded, “Sounds interesting enough, who’s going first?”

“I’ll go first,” Skeppy sat down in the middle of the trampoline and crossed his legs then wrapped his arms around them. “Now you jump around me.”

Techno started jumping, even acting like he was going to land on Skeppy a few times just to sike him out, but couldn’t get him to pop.

“You’re bad at this,” Skeppy commented as he flopped onto his side, arms still wrapped tightly around his knees.

“Shut up,” Techno jumped close to his head, Skeppy shrieked.

Techno was about to give up when the back gate cracked open.

“Techno!” Wilbur poked his head through the gate, “Phil says it’s time- what the fuck? Since when did Skeppy have a trampoline?”

“Trampoline?” Wilbur yelped in protest as Tommy squeezed past him to get a better look.

“Perfect timing- come help me pop this bitch.” Techno walked over and unzipped the opening. Tommy didn’t question it and ran over, pulling off his shoes, grabbing Techno’s outstretched hand and was hauled up.

“Tommy Techno wait, Phil sent us to come get you.” Wilbur pointed out, walking over and resting his hands on the metal rim.

“Just this one round?” Tommy asked, “Please Wil?”

Wilbur bit his lip then sighed, “Okay fine, one round.” He took off his shoes and climbed up. “How do we play?”

Techno explained the rules and they started bouncing again this time with much more success, bouncing Skeppy higher and higher until he lost this grip and flopped on the rubber.

“Can I go next?” Tommy asked, already sitting down in the middle.

“We really should be going,” Wilbur trailed off and looked between his siblings. Tommy stared up at him and Techno smiled weakly, in hopes to persuade him, “One more?”

Wilbur bit the inside of his cheek then finally nodded, “One more.” Tommy cheered and they started up again.

One more turned into several more, each person getting a turn to be the kernel. After they got bored of that they started on trying to outdo each other with tricks.

Skeppy did another front flip and managed not to punch a hole in the net and Tommy also tried to but was stopped by Wilbur who ‘didn’t want to see Tommy break his neck’. Techno did help hold up his legs while Tommy tried to do a handstand.

“I bet I could do a backflip,” Skeppy said, Techno rolled his eyes.

“If you managed too you’d probably punch another hole in the net.”

“Shut up that was one time-”

“Like an hour ago!”

“Shut up!” Skeppy shoved his shoulder playfully.

“I’d like to see Skeppy try to do it.” Wilbur said, resting his chin in his palm. Techno laughed, trying to ignore the waxy feeling the trampoline left on his skin.

“Someone believe in me!” Skeppy said, standing up. He kept trying to figure out how he would do it. After multiple attempts of twisting around and bouncing around Tommy groaned.

“Do it already!”

“I was just about to but you messed up my concentration!”

“Yeah, ‘concentration’.” Techno air quoted.

“You’re a jerk!” Skeppy shot back while Techno laughed.

“What the hell is taking you guys so long?” Techno turned and saw Phil standing at the gate, looking annoyed.

“Uh- we got distracted,” Techno offered weakly, “We were trying to watch Skeppy do a backflip but he keeps chickening out.”

“Hey!”

“Uhuh,” Phil nodded, looking exasperated.

“Phil you should do one, you’ve talked about it before.” Wilbur said.

“I can but-” He started only to be interrupted.

“I bet you can’t!” Tommy said, pushing his face against the net.

“I bet he can,” Wilbur shot back.

“He can’t, he's too old!”

“Alright that’s it,” Phil climbed onto the trampoline, “I’m gonna prove you little shits wrong.” He pushed Tommy’s head, “Then we are going home.”

Techno backed up to the edge along with everyone else and watched as Phil jumped up, arms outstretched, then pulled his knees to his chest then landed the flip perfectly.

Tommy gasped while Wilbur clapped, elbowing Tommy.

“I told you he could do it!”

“That was so cool- can you teach me how to do that?” Skeppy asked, leaning forwards on his knees, Tommy jumped up.

“Teach me too!”

“Later, now let's get going, you guys were supposed to be back like an hour ago.”

Techno got off the trampoline and pulled on his shoes, waving bye to Skeppy.

Techno had been hanging out at Skeppy’s house, laying on the basement floor watching random youtube videos with him because it was too damn hot to do anything else.

“I don’t know how those guys do it.” Skeppy commented, pressing his face into the floor.

“It’s ‘cause of the Environmental Johnson Equation.” Techno said simply, Skeppy nodded.

“Which is based off of the Equilibrium Maintenance Feature.”

“Exactly!”

The sun was setting when Skeppy dragged Techno outside since fiery light was no longer trying to melt the Earth. They bounced on his trampoline for a while, taking breaks to look at sunset as it shifted through dripping vibrant orange to soft pink and blue and an inky purple.

Skeppy laid down and Techno laid next to him. The air was humid but dry and there were more stars out then Techno had seen in a long time.

He pointed out different constellations and planets to Skeppy until Phil texted him to come home.

“I’m going to Skeppy’s!” Techno yelled, tying his shoe.

“Take Tommy with you!” Phil called back, Techno’s head snapped up.

“What? No!”

“Yes! I’m going to work soon and Wilbur is out!”

“Can’t he just stay home alone?”

“Not after last time!”

Techno groaned, dragging his hands down his face, “Tommy! Get your shoes!”

They were headed towards Skeppy’s house, kicking a rock between each other, when they were intercepted by Dream.

“Oh hey Techno, I was just coming to see if you wanted to hang out.”

“Big man Dream!” Tommy yelled, Techno slapped a hand on Tommy’s face and pushed him back.

“I gotta watch my little brother and I’m heading to Skeppy’s,” He explained.

“Oh,” Dream paused, “Mind if I come with?”

Techno shrugged, “I don’t mind, you can ask Skeppy when we get there.”

Tommy bugged Dream the rest of the way there.

“Why is your name Dream?”

“Uh-”

“Why are the tips of your hair green?”

“Well I di-”

“Why are you wearing a hoodie? Do you not have elbows?”

“Oh my god, Tommy, leave the poor guy alone,” Techno said as they reached Skeppy’s house. Techno pushed open the front door and took his shoes off.

“Hey Skeppy, I have two nerds with me.”

Skeppy was laying on the couch, “Great, who is it?”

“Tommy and Dream.”

“Oh that should be interesting.”

They argued about what to play before settling on Mario Kart. Techno took every opportunity to attack Skeppy which distracted both of them enough to the point where they were both lagging behind so Dream and Tommy were constantly neck and neck to finish the race. Dream’s whooping cheer drowned out Tommy’s playful yells as he fell back onto the couch dramatically.

“Skeppy can we get on your trampoline?” Tommy asked, rolling over, cheek against the cushion.

“You just wanna do something else cause I beat you!” Dream teased.

“No! I’m just bored with Mario Kart!”

“I mean, we can but you have to be careful because the net is gone.” Skeppy said, standing up. He didn’t bother to put his shoes on as he walked towards the backdoor.

“What do you mean the net is gone? Did you punch too many holes in it?” Techno asked.

“Shut up shut up,” Skeppy bumped Techno, “The whole net was shredded and it was easier to just take it off.”

“Yeah, sure.” Techno teased, bumping Skeppy back.

They went outside and got on the trampoline, Dream grabbed onto one of the poles and started to climb on it, wrapping his legs around.

“Dream this is pretty old, I don’t think you should climb on that,” Techno pointed out.

“It’s fine,” Dream twisted around on the pole, “probably.” He continued to twist around, pulling off his hoodie and throwing it aside. Tommy gasped loudly.

“Oh my god Dream is stripping?”

Techno snorted and Skeppy burst out laughing. Dream wheezed, he would’ve fell off the trampoline if Techno didn’t grab him.

“Tommy- Tommy- you can’t just- you can’t just yell that,” Techno covered his eyes with his hands, “Where did you even learn that?”

Skeppy ignored them, “Dream is this your new career path?”

Dream twirled around again, “Yes, this is my new goal in life!”

“I wanna be there when you tell the career counselor!” Techno butted in.

Techno was laying on the couch reading when his phone started to buzz non stop. When he checked it he found multiple texts from Skeppy.

“HELPPPPPPP”

“HOW DO U BAKE?!??!”

“TECHNNNOOOOOOO”

“PLEASE THERE IS FLOUR EVERYWHERE”

“DUDE”

“ANSWER ME PLEASE I NEED HELP”

Techno sighed and texted back “What?”

“U KNOW HOW TO BAKE RIGHT?? I NEED UR HELP!!!”

Techno texted back, “Alright” and after telling Phil where he was going he headed towards Skeppy’s.

What he didn’t realize was that he was completely unprepared to see Skeppy standing in the middle of his kitchen with batter all over his shirt and oven, broken egg shells littering the floor along with the aforementioned flour.

He stood there, trying to take everything in. “What the fuck?”

Skeppy looked at him sheepishly, “I don’t know what I’m doing, I keep spilling and dropping everything!”

Techno sighed, taking off his glasses, “That’s it, I’m not wearing my glasses anymore, I’ve seen enough.”

“Techno!”

“Alright alright,” He put his glasses back on, “What are you trying to do?”

“I’m trying to make a cake for my sister's birthday and it’s not going too well,” He trailed off, Techno nodded.

“I see. Show me the recipe.”

Skeppy texted him the recipe, it looked pretty easy, just a two layer lemon cake. Techno rolled up his sleeves and preheated the oven then turned to the mess of a kitchen, sighing.

“You’ve lost cooking rights.”

Skeppy changed and they both started to clean up the kitchen, sweeping up flour and scrubbing down counters.

“How the hell did you get flour on top of the fridge?”

“I don’t know!”

After they finished cleaning up they started on the cake.

“Why do you have brown sugar out? We don’t need it.”

“We don’t?”

“Oh my god you’re so bad,”

Skeppy measured out most of the ingredients while Techno mixed them together. They divided the mix and put in different pans then put it in the oven.

“Okay so for the frosting we need a lot of butter,” Techno said, scrolling through the recipe.

“How much butter?” Skeppy asked, opening the fridge.

“Like three sticks.”

They creamed the butter together with sugar and milk while waiting for the cakes to bake.

Once Skeppy pulled them out and tested to make sure they were cooked all the way through they went set them out to cool then watched TV while they waited.

Frosting the cake was a whole new idea.

The frosting was good but kept ripping at the cake even though it was cool. They combated this by dumping the frosting in big globs on the cake, this had the side effect of getting it all over their hands.

“Oh Technoooo,” Techno looked over to see Skeppy holding a glob of frosting, a familiar glint in his eyes.

“Is this really a fight you wanna start?”

“Nope nope nope nevermind.”

They soon finished and examined their work.

“It’s not the prettiest cake but as long as it tastes good,” Techno shrugged, wiping frosting from his hands.

“Yeah, thanks for helping me out with it.”

“Of course nerd.”

Skeppy rocked back and forth on his feet.

“Do you wanna go out on the trampoline?”

“Eh, why not.”

So they went out and laid on the trampoline, talking about anything and everything. Techno talked about how he didn’t want to go back to school, how everything stressed him out. Skeppy talked about how he felt like the expectations were going to crush him.

They were in the middle of their conversation when a loud crackle pierced the air. Both boys jumped, looking around Techno spotted a gold streak against the deep blue sky then an explosion of orange and yellow.

“What the-”

“What the hell is wrong with my neighbor? It isn’t even July yet!” Skeppy squinted through the trees and over the fence.

“They’re just trying to be festive!”

“Yeah- ‘festive’!”

Techno was two seconds away from ripping his hair out, he was going to lose his mind. Every teacher had decided to dump extra work on him and by third period he already had at least 2 hours worth of homework. Everything was too loud and the crowds and hallways were smearing together like paint.

He had a nervous twitch in his hand again and every noise grated against his skull. He was just trying to make it through the day and almost had when he noticed it was raining. He'd have to walk home by himself since Wilbur was taking the car to work and Tommy had practice.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the rain he just didn’t like the rain while he was carrying all of his school supplies.

“Hey Techno,” He heard Skeppy bounce up behind him, “Wanna hang out after school today?”

“Can’t, I have too much work.”

“Do you wanna come over and work on it together?”

Techno sighed, “Sure, why not?” He let himself get dragged over to Skeppy’s house, hoping they’d actually be able to get some work done. He climbed into the front seat Skeppy’s rickety old car and watched the raindrops slide down the window.

They made it to Skeppy’s house and sat in his basement, softly playing music in the background while they worked on history questions. They divided the work and actually managed to do it faster, giving each other answers and working together before splitting off to different assignments.

After a while Skeppy poked him with his pencil, “Do you wanna go on the trampoline?”

“Isn’t it still raining?” Techno didn’t look up from his math sheet.

“Probably, but that’s what’ll make it fun!”

“Can’t, still gotta finish-”

“Shut up, we have been working for like hours, just take a little break, calm down, and have fun in the rain!” Skeppy grabbed his hand before Techno could protest “The worksheets will still be there when we get back,” Then he dragged him up the stairs.

The rain was chilly, not cold but enough to wake Techno up. They left their shoes in the kitchen then went out and on the trampoline, which looked to be skin and bones, the foam ring and net being completely gone and the metal springs rusting.

Jumping in the rain was exhilarating, the rain soaked his hair and clothes and splattered against his glasses. Skeppy would push him and Techno would grab him and drag them both down, landing on the wet, waxy mat.

His chest felt looser, his body felt cold but his heart was alive and pounding. They had started trying to jump in sync, to see if it would bounce them higher.

“You know, even though I don’t use this as much as I used too, I’m glad I still have it.” Skeppy said, Techno nodded.

“Yeah this is pretty nice especially since it hasn’t broken yet.” Techno agreed.

“Yeah it-” Skeppy was cut off when the mat ripped under his feet and both he and Techno fell through. Techno slid on the dampened ground and landed on his back.

Techno looked up at the sky through the tear, Skeppy’s shouts seemed muffled as he watched the rain fall and dot the earth. Then he started chuckling which evolved into full laughter as he laid under a broken trampoline in the rain with his best friend.

“What are you laughing at?” Skeppy asked, sitting up, grinning faintly.

“I- it’s just that-” Techno broke off laughing, he couldn’t explain why because it really wasn’t that funny, it was just the fact that they were talking about how much they liked the trampoline and how long it held out only for it to break.

Skeppy laughed along with him, shaking his head, shifting to lay next to him.

They stayed there, looking up and watching the rain fall.

#fun fact I bullied my friends into telling me extra memories about what we did on my old trampoline for this #this was fun to write but I’m not super proud of the title but eh #mcyt #technoblade #skeppy #Technoblade and Skeppy #Apples Writing #fd au #fd!au #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #philza #sbi au #family dynamic #sleepyblr #fanfiction #fanfic #fluff

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anarchyduck · 3 years

Text

Spiders on Alcohol

AO3 Link Here

CW: Underage Drinking, but that’s about it

-----

“Sir, you have an incoming call from Mr. Parker.”

Tony’s first thought is the kid is hurt. The rational side quickly takes over, reminding him that if the kid was hurt then he would receive a message from his AI Karen. The kid could be - has been - on death's door and wouldn’t call.

His second thought is how late it is. The time on the stove read 12:30 in glowing blue numerals which is way past the kid’s curfew.

A third rapid thought is it’s also Peter’s night off. His suit isn’t active; FRIDAY would have told him the second it became active.

“Patch him through.” Tony says as he rinses off a plate and puts it into the dish drainer.

“Yes sir.” FRI replies.

There is a brief pause then Tony says, “You’re lucky I don’t need sleep. What’s up?”

When he doesn’t immediately receive a response, he frowns and turns off the water. Paranoia tugs at the edges of his mind and Tony shoves back the worst case scenarios that try to pop into his mind. He opens his mouth, the kid’s name on his tongue, when Peter finally speaks.

“Mis’er Stark?” He sounds confused. “Why… Why do you have Happy’s phone?”

It’s Tony’s turn to be confused. “Because you didn’t call Happy, you called me.” He grabs a nearby dish towel to dry his hands. He can hear what sounds like a car honk and Peter’s breathing. He’s not at home, clearly.

“Oh… Shit.” Peter mutters something Tony doesn’t quite catch. “S-Sorry, didn’t mean… Meant to call Happy. Not-Not that I don’t like talkin’ to you, Mis’er Stark. You, you’re cool and uh…”

“Yeah, I am cool. What’s going on, kid?”

“Uhm…” Tony hears the hesitation and for a split second he thinks Peter may hang up on him. “Can, uh, can you…can you like, come get me?” The request is so small, so quiet, and Tony knows something is wrong.

“Yeah,” Tony says immediately. His heart rate spikes with anxiety. Damn kid is going to be the death of him one day, he knows it. God. “Yeah, I can get you, where are you?”

Peter sighs with relief. “Huh? Uh I’m uh, what street is this… I don’t, hold on-”

Tony slips on a pair of loafers (grandpa shoes, as Peter calls them) as the call shifts seamlessly from the overhead AI to his phone. He grabs his wallet and keys on his way out the door, and is in the garage by the time Peter comes back on the line.

“Fifth and, uh, Fifty-Nineth.”

Tony nods to himself as the car revs to life. “Okay, Fifth and,”-- and he pauses as it dawns on him --“Wait, Fifth and Fifty-Nineth? What are you doing so far out of Queens?”

“I don’t have to stay in Queens all the time.” Tony can practically hear those brown eyes rolling. “I can like go other places, have gone other places! There’s like, a whole big ol’ world out there Mis’ser Stark and yeah Queens is big too I guess and like-”

Tony frowns lightly and glances toward the dash as he drives. Peter is still rambling and his words are going together and it sounds awfully familiar in a terrible way.

“Peter are you drunk?”

The kid blows a raspberry in response. “Whaaat? No! No, I’m not drink, drunk.” His voice cracks and raises a couple octaves as Parker lying syndrome kicks in. “I’m totally, one hundred percent not drunk!”

“Oh my God.” Tony breathes out a breath. “FRI, find the quickest route. Kid, you stay put. I don’t want you to move an inch off that sidewalk. Got it? Find a bench and park it.”

----------

He finds the kid exactly where Peter said he would be. He’s laying on a bus bench, one arm hanging over while the other is crossed over his eyes. For a split second, Tony thinks he’s asleep (passed out) but he sees Peter’s leg bouncing where his foot is planted on the concrete.

“Hey, underoos.” Tony calls as he climbs out of the vehicle. The kid stirs, arm uncovers his face as he looks at him with a goofy grin.

“Mr. Stark!” Peter sits up and practically jumps from the bench. He sways a little on his feet, takes a step back, then bounds forward, damn near skipping as he meets Tony at the car. “Hey, man, wow, you’re here. Cool.”

“What, did you think I wouldn’t come?” Tony circles around the front of the vehicle where the teen is leaning against the passenger door. He doesn’t look hurt. No blood, no bruising. However, the closer Tony gets, the stronger he smells alcohol, particularly on Peter’s breath. “Wow, damn kid you smell like a brewery.”

Peter’s brows pinch together as his eyes widen. “Really?” He puts a hand up to his face to check his breath. “Wow.”

“Yeah, wow. Okay, come on let’s go.” The kid doesn’t put up resistance as Tony puts him into the car. Peter leans back into the leather, eyes wide as he stares up, unaware as Tony buckles him in.

He breathes out and giggles. “Feel like I’m floatin’.”

Tony snorts with amusement and shuts the door. He rounds the car back to his side, gets in and takes off onto the road. At first, he thinks of heading straight for Queens and depositing the kid at home. But the penthouse is closer and the more responsible side of Tony’s mind says he shouldn’t leave a drunken teenager alone.

“All right,” he starts. “So spill. What are you doing over here.”

“Got invited to a party.” Peter runs his hand against the bit of smooth metal on the door. “And like,” he sighs as he nestles into the seat. “It was so weird, Mr. Stark because I didn’t know no one, anyone, and it wasn’t anythin’ like Liz’s party. Ned wasn’t there and MJ wasn’t there and it was so weird, Mr. Stark.”

“Yeah?” it’s all Tony can say to that as the kid barrels on forward.

“Yeah! Liz, Liz didn’t have alcohol because we were all underage anyway and her dad would’ve killed us. He tried to kill me, ya know? Like… a few times. God what if the dude who owns that house back there is like, this… big super villain who I gotta fight later and how weird would that be? Get invited twice to a party where the-the guy tries killin’ me later.”

“I would say that would be very weird.” Tony agrees. “And that you probably shouldn’t put that out there in the universe.”

Peter groans and Tony glances over to see him fumbling at the side of his seat. It takes him a second to realize what the kid is looking for.. “FRI, lean his seat back.”

The kid’s eyes go wide as the seat reclines back and he laughs lightly to himself as he lays back. “Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He drags a hand over the side of his face and pokes at his cheek with another laugh. “My face feels weird.”

Tony chuckles. “Yeah, bet it does. How much did you drink?”

“Uhhh…” Peter trails off as he keeps poking his cheek. “More than one?”

Oh yeah, the kid was going to be feeling it later. “Just promise you won’t throw up in the car.”

----------

To Peter’s credit, he didn’t puke in the car. They make it back to the penthouse and by the time they walk through the door, Tony is almost carrying the kid. Peter rambles the entire way, making comments here and there; talking to Tony; talking to FRIDAY; talking to himself. He’s leaning heavily, stumbling in his steps, and giggling.

“Okay webs,” Tony sets the kid down on the bed in the guestroom. “Stay here, don’t move, I’ll get you some water.”

“‘Kay.” Peter says as he flops back onto the bed.

Should he remove his shoes? Tony tries to think back to what others did for him, but comes up with nothing. God what he wouldn’t give for Pepper to be here. She would know what to do. Luckily the kid makes the decision for him and kicks off his shoes as he curls up onto his side.

“Going to get you some water. Don’t move.” Tony says again, pressing his voice a little firmer to drive his point across. Peter doesn’t do much more than hum in reply and he feels confident enough the kid will be fine for at least a couple minutes.

Tony runs a hand through his hair as he breathes out a sigh. How did he get stuck babysitting a drunk teenager? That said, it couldn’t be any harder than babysitting a stabbed teenager. Least the kid doesn’t have to worry about needles. May Parker crosses his mind as he fills a glass from the tap and he takes his phone out of his back pocket to send her a message.

Your kid is staying over at my place for the night. Don’t worry, he’s ok. Working?

Tony receives a reply much quicker than anticipated.

Double shift

Trouble?

Well that certainly explains how the kid snuck away from home. He can’t see May letting her sixteen year old nephew go to a party where alcohol would be served. Hell, he’s still wrapping his head around the idea Peter willingly went to a party on his own. He types out a reply:

100% grounded.

The phone pings with another quick reply.

Totally

Ty tony

Tony sets the phone down and picks up the glass of water as he rounds the kitchen island to head back into the room. He fully expects to see the kid right where he left him, curled up on his side or maybe on his back again. Humming or singing to himself, complaining about the room spinning. Instead, he finds an empty bed.

He sets the glass on the bedside table while glancing about the room. “Kid?” he calls, eyes even stealing a look toward the ceiling because who knows at this point.

It’s the sound of gagging and retching that directs him to the bathroom. Door is left open, lights off, and when Tony flips them on, he finds Peter vomiting into the toilet.

“Yeah, that’s about right.” he sighs.

Peter gags and spits into the bowl. “It went through my nose.”

Tony grimaces sympathetically. “That’s gross,” he says. The kid heaves again. Tears run down his cheeks as he gasps for breath, no doubt fighting the nausea and contracting muscles. It’s a fight Tony himself knows all too well and lost far too many times. The nights when he was caught in another bender, coming home from some nameless party with or without some nameless face, and always ending up exactly where Peter is now.

How many times was someone there for him? How many times was he alone?

“I’m so s-sorry.” Peter lets out a strangled sob. “I never�� I didn’t mean to be, so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” Tony says as he wets a washcloth in the sink. “A dumbass, yes. But not stupid.”

“Never should’ve gone to that party. Bad idea. Dumb idea. Didn’t… I didn’t even know no one there and I jus’ wanted to be cool.”

Tony scoffs. “By drinking a shit ton of alcohol? Yeah. Real cool.” He frowns to himself at the firm undertone and adds, “But I get it.”

Peter spits another sting of bile and takes the offered washcloth to wipe his face. He manages to flush the toilet and attempts to stand on his feet, only to sway backwards and hit the wall with a thump.

“Ow…” the kid groans and Tony is sure he’s being tested by some form of higher power.

“Okay,” he sighs. “Let’s get you up before you decide to pass out in my bathroom.” He grabs the teen by his arms to pull him up, finding himself doing most of the lifting despite Peter’s clumsy and fruitless attempts to stand.

“‘m not gonna pass out…” Peter sniffles as he leans against Tony. He’s still clutching the washcloth.

“You know,”--Tony maneuvers them back into the bedroom and sits Peter on the edge of the bed-- “for a scrawny kid, you’re solid as hell.”

“Not scrawny.”

“Uh huh.” Tony picks up the glass of water. “Think you can hold down some water? You’ll regret it in the morning if you don’t, believe me kiddo.”

Thankfully the kid manages to take a drink without spilling it on himself. Even manages to put it back on the nightstand without slumping over. “Okay, spider baby, bedtime for you.” Tony eases him down onto the bed on his side, ignoring any and all mumbled protests (“I’m not a baby.”). He draws the blankets over him and leaves just long enough to grab the trash bin from the bathroom.

Peter hasn’t moved from his curled up spot, but Tony knows the kid isn’t asleep yet. He’s staring at the wall ahead of him, seemingly unaware. Part of him is impressed the teen hasn’t passed out yet.

“Penny for your thoughts, kid?”

Peter slowly blinks then frowns. “You’re like… super rich, Mr. Stark. My thoughts are worth way more than a penny.”

“A quarter then.”

“Cheap.” The kid mutters with a small hint of a smile. It’s gone alarmingly quick as Peter begins to worry the edge of the blanket between his forefinger and thumb. “Jus’ thinking… my Uncle Ben said he’d buy me my first beer. Said it’s like… a dad thing or whatever, but since I don’t have one, he said he’d do it.”

Ben was a rare subject and one Peter didn’t bring up lightly. It wasn’t fair for the kid. The universe kept throwing more and more shit at him and it wasn’t fair. Anyone else would turn bitter but not Peter. He was good and kind and unlike anyone Tony had met. He’d do anything for this kid.

“Well,” Tony sniffs and clears his throat as he sits on the edge of the bed beside Peter’s legs. “My dad never did that stuff with me either. I was already at MIT when I was your age, going to parties and sneaking into bars. Doubt the man would have done it anyway.” he adds with an undertone of bitterness before charging forward. “Anyway, I’m just saying when you’re older, and I mean when you turn twenty-one, how about I buy you a beer?” The blankets shift and Tony feels eyes on him. “Unless it’s overstepping, which I completely understand and-”

“Yes.”

The words stop dead on his tongue and Tony finds the courage to look at the kid. There are tears in Peter’s eyes, but he’s smiling. “Yeah?” he presses and the teen nods. A strange weight lifts from Tony’s shoulders to the point he finds himself smiling in return. “It’s a deal then. So no more drinking until then or else I’ll find another intern to dote on.”

“No you won’t.” Peter yawns and settles against the pillow, eyes drooping close. “‘m your favorite.”

Tony smiles and brushes back some wayward curls from the teen’s face. “Yeah, you are.”

#irondad #marvel #spider-man #peter parker #tony stark #spider-man fic #mcu #duckie's writing #it's done!#the beast has been slain and I'm so proud of it tbh

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zukoskataraa · 4 years

Text

a request i got from @blood-and-lychee a long time ago! sorry this took so long, i hope you like it!

prompt #39: we need to talk about what happened last night

“Katara, open the door.” Zuko says, sighing.

“Go away.” Katara replies, not wanting to see him.

“Katara, I’m not the one at fault here.” Zuko says, and Katara sighed, knowing he was right. She slowly opens the door to her apartment, and Zuko walks in. Silence was hanging in the air, neither of them wanting to talk first.

“L-Let’s sit down.” Katara says, avoiding eye contact with Zuko as she walks to her bedroom. Zuko follows, going into the room he had been in many times before. Katara sits in the middle of the bed, crossing her legs, and Zuko sits down on the edge of the bed. The silence was awkward, and Katara wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“We need to talk about what happened last night.” Zuko finally speaks, looking at Katara. Katara avoids his gaze, biting her lip. She knew that Zuko had come over to talk about it. She knew that what she had done was wrong. But, she didn’t feel bad about it.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Katara says, and Zuko scoffs.

“One doesn’t simply kiss their bestfriend on a fake date, Katara.” Zuko says, his tone harsh. Katara looks up at him, sighing.

“It was your fault for inviting me.” Katara says, defending herself. Zuko raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face.

“I’m not the one who kissed you.” Zuko fights back, and Katara lies down, staring at her ceiling as she recalls yesterday’s events.

—

“You want me to do what?” Katara asks, eyes wide. She looks at Zuko, who was sitting next to her, looking desperate.

“Pretend to be my girlfriend. Just for tonight.” Zuko says, pleading. Katara was still processing the question that Zuko had asked.

“Tonight? Are you crazy? And why would you pick me? Ask Mai or Ty Lee or Toph.” Katara says, avoiding looking at him. Her heart was beating fast. Sure, Zuko was her best friend, ever since high school. They were now in college, and Katara would be lying to herself if she didn’t develop feelings for Zuko over the years. But, she didn’t want to ruin their friendship, so she never acted on her feelings for him.

“I was supposed to go with Mai, but she cancelled on me! And Ty Lee said no, very bluntly. So did Toph. And Sokka would kill me if I asked Suki. So, here I am.” Zuko says, and Katara scoffs.

“So you’re coming to me because you have no one else to turn to? I’m your last choice, huh? Go fish.” Katara says, rolling her eyes. She had already made up her mind, but she wanted to toy with Zuko for a bit. In an instant, Zuko was on his knees in front of her, and Katara widened her eyes.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just didn’t want to burden you with this, so I never planned to ask you, until now. Please, Kat? I’ll do anything!” Zuko was clearly desperate, and Katara sighed.

“Man, I can’t believe you’re right here, begging in front of me. It’s a sight to behold, if I’m being honest.” Katara teases. “But, I’m no sadist. Get up, dude. I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend.” Katara says and Zuko stands, hugging Katara.

“Thanks, Kat!” Zuko says, smiling as he pulls away from the hug. Katara blushes and looks away.

“Y-Yeah. No problem. Where are we even going?” Katara asks, standing up from the couch.

“It’s just a formal dinner party. My parent’s company is hosting it to celebrate a new partnership. And my dad told me that I had to bring my significant other, who is non-existent.” Zuko sighs, sitting down on Katara’s sofa. Katara giggles.

“Well, why would he assume that you had a girlfriend in the first place?” She asks and Zuko shrugs.

“He thinks that Mai and I are still together. And as you know, we broke up last month, but we’re cool.” Zuko says and Katara nods.

“But he already knows who I am. If you bring me as your date, won’t it be awkward?” Katara asks and Zuko shakes his head.

“He thinks we, quote unquote, look good together. So, he’d probably be ecstatic if he thought that we were dating.” Zuko explains and Katara blushes, biting her lip. Well, at least his family approves of her.

“Okay, fine. Now get out of my apartment, Zuko. I have to get ready for dinner tonight, which I don’t even want to go to.” Katara says, joking.

“Hey, at least you’ll get free food.” Zuko says. “And like it’s still 2pm? Dinner isn’t til 7. You can get ready later.” Zuko says, and Katara rolls her eyes.

“You really don’t understand women.” Katara says, shaking her head. She grabs Zuko by the hand, who willingly follows her, as she walks towards her front door.

“I will see you later.” Zuko says as he opens the door and Katara let’s go of his hand. “I’ll pick you up at… 6:30? Sounds good?”

“Yup. Later, loser.” Katara says and Zuko chuckles.

“Wear something nice for me, okay? The theme is black, green, and blue.” Zuko winks and Katara rolls her eyes.

“Whatever.” Katara says and Zuko smiles.

“Bye, KitKat.” Zuko says and Katara blushes before sticking her tongue out at him and closing the door. Zuko would be the death of her. She nearly trips over the edge of her bed as she walks to her closet, looking for something to wear. Zuko was lucky that Katara had a green dress in her wardrobe that was formal enough. Her black dress was a little too provocative, and her blue dress wasn’t fit for the occasion. Katara also wanted to wear something nice, to see Zuko’s reaction - to tease him a little. Katara was sure that Zuko didn’t think of her romantically, that he only saw her as a friend. And that was okay with Katara, because she cherished her friendship with Zuko.

Katara took a shower, and got ready. It was a few minutes past three, and Zuko would pick her up at 6:30. So Katara had at least three more hours to prepare. She spent the first hour eating and watching a show, the second hour doing her hair - which Katara hated because her hair was a mess, and did her make up. Katara was changing into her dress when the doorbell rang, and Katara sighed as she was still struggling to zip up the dress from the back. She would get Zuko to do it, she decided, as she walked to the door.

Zuko gasped when the door opened to reveal Katara. She was wearing a satin, emerald green dress, with the neckline plunging low. There was a slit on the right side, showing her long, dark legs. Her hair was straightened at the top, but was wavy midway to the tips. She had a pearl clip on one side of her hair. Her makeup was just enough - lipstick, eyeshadow, eyeliner, but there was a hint of pink on Katara’s cheeks as Zuko had stared at her for what seemed like minutes.

“What? Do I look ugly?” Katara asks, unsure. Zuko shakes his head, embarrassed.

“You look great, KitKat.” Zuko says, smiling. “I mean it.”

“Thanks, Zuko.” Katara says, blushing. “Ah, can you zip this up for me?” Katara asks, turning around. Her dress was still zipped open, down to the small of her back. She felt exposed, but it’s not like she could have zipped it up herself.

“S-Sure.” Zuko says, gulping as he reaches for her dress. His fingers touch Katara’s back, and Katara closes her eyes. Silence is in the air as he slowly zips the dress up, and Katara grabs her hair and puts it at the side so he can finish zipping it up. “All done.” He says. Katara lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and turns around to look back at Zuko.

“Thanks, loser. Come on in, just lemme grab my things and then we can head out.” Katara smiles as she walks away, letting Zuko enter her home. Katara goes into her room, with Zuko behind her, and grabs a small gold purse, putting her phone, lipstick, keys, and some money inside. Zuko leans on the doorway, arms crossed.

“You look really stunning, KitKat.” Zuko compliments her again, and Katara blushes. Thankfully, her back was facing him, so he couldn’t see her reaction. She takes a deep breath before looking at Zuko. He looked good as well - in Katara’s defense, he looked good no matter what he wore - with an all black outfit, except for the emerald green bowtie, which ironically matched Katara’s dress. His hair was slicked back, except for a few loose tendrils flying around.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Zuko.” She says as she grabs a gold necklace from her jewelry box and puts it on, centering the pendant in the middle of her chest. “Your tie matches my dress.”

“That it does.” He says, amusement in his voice. “Wasn’t expecting it, to be honest. But hey, we still look good.” Zuko says and Katara hums in approval as she walks past him and puts on her gold heels. Zuko was watching her the whole time, and Katara could feel his eyes burning into her.

“Stop staring, creep.” Katara says. “Come on, let’s go.” She says and Zuko chuckles as he follows her out of her apartment.

“I could be watching a movie right now, in my pajamas. Eating takeout.” Katara sighs as Zuko revs the car, the engine sputtering to life. Zuko laughs.

“This’ll be worth it. I promise. Plus, wouldn’t you rather look at me, your handsome best friend who is currently your fake boyfriend right now, than some actor on your tv?” He says as he starts to drive. Katara snorts, blushing.

“Puh-lease. I’d take Henry Cavill over you any day.” She says and Zuko chuckles.

“You wound me, Katara.” Zuko says and Katara giggles. “Okay so, if anyone asks. We’re dating, obviously. That’s been established. Uh, let’s say we’ve been dating for about two months now. I made the first move when I drove you back home from a dinner date. You said yes, and boom.” Zuko makes up a story, and Katara wishes it were true. “Also, I might like, touch you. You know, putting my hand on your waist, holding your hand, that sort of thing.” Zuko adds and Katara sighs. This would be so hard.

“Ew, you’re gonna give me your germs.” She jokes, trying to distract herself. Zuko laughs. “But fine. You owe me big time, Zuko.”

“That I do, my friend.” Zuko says. The rest of the car ride was filled with them bantering and laughing, both of them hoping to ease the tension before having to be serious at the dinner party.

They pull up to the hotel, which was very fancy, and Katara gulps. One room probably cost more than her tuition, she thought. The valet opened the door for her and helped her get out, to which she smiled and said thank you to. The valet then walked over to Zuko, and gave him the keys. Zuko walked over to Katara, smiling.

“I haven’t seen my parents in six months. To be honest, I’m kinda nervous.” Zuko says, and Katara wraps her arm around his.

“Don’t be nervous. I’ll be with you the whole time.” Katara assures her best friend, and Zuko nods.

“Well, Kat, off we go.” Zuko says and Katara giggles as they walk inside the hotel, towards the ballroom.

“You know, this is pretty boring.” Zuko whispers in Katara’s ear. It had been at least two hours since the dinner started, and there had been 5 long, dull speeches - all of which were talking about the same thing more or less. The food was exceptional though, and Katara had to give it to the chef’s, they knew how to cook. The appetizer was delicious, the main course was enamoring, and the desert was mouth-watering. The waiter had given them wine to drink, and they clinked their glasses.

“I know. This is why I should have just stayed at home.” Katara giggles, whispering back to Zuko.

“Sorry for dragging you here. I haven’t even seen my parents yet.” Zuko replies. “Well, I have, but they seem busy, so I’d rather not approach them.” Katara takes a sip from her wine and sighs.

“You could always-” She starts but is suddenly cut off.

“Zuko!” A deep voice calls out. Zuko immediately stands, looking at his dad. Zuko was almost as tall as his dad, Ozai.

“Hi dad.” Zuko greets. Katara stands up, smiling.

“Ah, Katara. So good to see you again.” Ursa, Zuko’s mother, smiles and gives Katara a hug.

“Hello, Ms. Ursa. Mr. Ozai. It’s nice to see you.” Katara says as she hugs Ursa.

“Katara, what a surprise. Zuko said he was bringing his girlfriend. Is that, perhaps, you?” Ozai asks, surprised. There was no malice in his voice, just shock.

“Yup.” Zuko responds, taking Katara’s hand in his. Katara wanted to die.

“Y-Yes. Zuko and I are dating.” Katara says, smiling. Ursa smiles and clasps her hands together.

“I can hear the wedding bells!” Ursa exclaims and the fake couple blushes.

“Mom! Stop.” Zuko says and Ursa giggles.

“I have to continue making my rounds. But it was good to see you, son. You too, my dear Katara. I have high hopes for you two.” Ozai says as he and Ursa walk away. The fake couple let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding, but Zuko hadn’t let go of Katara’s hand yet.

“Well, we passed. Can we go now?” Katara asks as she lets go of Zuko’s hand. She didn’t want to, but wine was more important at the moment. Zuko chuckles.

“Don’t you want to dance?” Zuko teases. There was a slow song playing, and some people had gone up to the dance floor, holding each other in each other’s arms. Katara scoffs.

“You know I don’t dance.”

“Yes, but, you’re not gonna die if you dance with me.” Zuko says. ‘I beg to differ’ Katara thinks. “I’m not going to force you, though. It’s up to you, KitKat.” Katara sighs.

“One dance. And then you’re taking me home.” Katara says and Zuko nods. He takes her hand and leads her to the dance floor. Katara puts her hand on Zuko’s shoulders, and Zuko puts his hands on Katara’s waist. The awkwardness would be the death of Katara. She looked at the ground, slowly moving to the beat. Zuko gently tilts her head up, brown eyes looking into blue ones.

“Hey, look at me.” Zuko smiles and Katara blushes. She didn’t know if it was the wine or something, but she suddenly wanted to make a move. They danced, looking into each other’s eyes the whole time. Katara was feeling brave and confident. If she didn’t do it now, she would never be able to do it. The song was about to end, and she would never get this chance again. She closed her eyes before leaning up to kiss Zuko. It was quick, and a bit rough. It was a peck, that’s all that Katara thought of as she pulled away. Zuko looked at her, eyes wide. And she knew she made a mistake.

—

“Hey, you owe me a favor right?” Katara asks as she sits back up, looking at Zuko. Zuko hums. “Okay. My favor is, just forget about what happened last night. Forget about the fake dating, forget about the kiss.”

“That’s hard to do, KitKat. I’m curious though, where did you run off to? I chased after you but you were gone.” Zuko says and Katara snorts.

“I hid in the bathroom for a few minutes before calling a cab.” Katara explains and Zuko chuckles.

“You shouldn’t have run away. I was going to say something before you dashed off like you were the flash.” Zuko jokes and Katara shakes her head.

“I was embarrassed. And… I never did get to apologize for last night, right? Sorry, Zuko.” Katara says and Zuko scoots closer to her.

“What’s there to be sorry about?” He asks, looking into her eyes. Katara gulps. “The reason that I can’t forget about last night, is because I like you, KitKat.” Zuko says and Katara’s heart skips a beat. “That wasn’t the ideal first kiss, but it’ll do.”

“W-Wait a minute, you LIKE me?” Katara says and Zuko nods. “Since when?”

“Well, I’m not gonna say. A man has to have a few secrets after all.” He winks. “I was waiting for you to make the first move, that’s all.” Zuko says and Katara blushes. Zuko leans closer to Katara, his eyes glancing at her lips. Katara gulps. Zuko’s hand caresses her cheeks, tucking away a strand of hair.

“You’re such a tease.” Katara says, her voice barely a whisper. Zuko chuckles before connecting his lips with hers. The kiss was slow and sweet. Zuko’s thumb caresses her cheeks, his other hand on Katara’s waist. They pull away a few seconds later, Katara avoiding his gaze.

“If fake dating was all it took for you to be mine, we should have done it sooner.” Zuko says, teasing as he pulls Katara in for a hug.

“Shut up. I hate you.” She says into his neck, voice muffled.

“No, you love me.” He replies. Katara smiles. ‘Yes, I do love you.’

masterlist | AO3

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avenging-fandoms · 4 years

Text

Sugar Daddy / Jeff Wittek pt. 3

*first part sort of requested by @toneitdolan : think about sugar daddy! jeff 😍😍😍 *second part sort of requested by anonymous: Imagine doing chores for sugar daddy Jeff so that he’ll buy you the carrier lion ring thing 🤩 *in which jeff had y/n experiment in something *WARNING: fluff, smut *word count: 1690 *PLEASE send me requests!!!!! i can do whoever :)

PART 1 PART 2

MASTERLIST

waking up to jeff was something you loved when he first slept over your house when you were 14. now that you were 24, you loved waking up to him, but some morning you woke up to a note and a rose on the pillow, which is what happened that morning.

you sighed and read the note, smelling the rose. ‘my girl, you look so angelic when you sleep, so i didn’t want to wake you as i got ready. here is a rose, and i also left you something on the island. do as the instructions say, and i’ll see you tonight. -jeff x’ you smile and sit up, yawning and stretching, climbing out of bed and grabbing your robe, tying it around you as you head into the bathroom. you use the bathroom, brushing your teeth and brushing your hair.

you head down the stairs and make your daily cup of morning coffee, nearly moaning as the nutmeg flavoring washes over your tastebuds. you bite into your strawberry jam toast, remembering the note on the island.

you bend over the island and read the note. ‘i want you to take the 2 pills that are in the little cup. you know i would never hurt you in any way, these are pills that will make you a little more excited than normal. facetime me around lunchtime. i’ll see you then, good girl. -jeff x’ you furrow your eyebrows and look at the pills, which were white. they looked like tylenol, and they smelled bland. you shrug, taking the pills and washing them down with your coffee. you put the mug in the dishwasher as well as the rest of the dishes in the sink.

—

lunch time rolled around, and you were red in the face and thighs clenched together as you sat on the couch, pillow in between your legs. you pick up your phone and tap jeff’s contact, scratching up and down your thigh.

“pick up, pick up, pick up” you whimper, and you release a breath of relief as you see his face pop up. “what the fuck did you have me take?”

he smirks, going over and locking his office door. he sits back in his chair and props his phone up, giving you a view of his top half and top of his thighs. “such a naughty mouth, princesa, i might need to fuck it to teach you a lesson”

you moan and throw your head back, setting your phone up against the vase on the coffee table, jeff biting his lip as you pull the pillow away. “pleaseeeee.. this is torture. i need you to touch me”

“well, i can’t touch you over the phone. come to my office, and you better hurry, i know how you get. goodbye”

“no jeff-” it was too late, he hung up. you stomp your foot and run up the stairs, throwing on a dress and heels, brushing your teeth and trying to ignore the fire burning in between your legs. any slight touch to your thigh and it made you whimper.

you rush to jeff’s car, revving the engine and driving over to his office. you park in your own reserved spot that jeff had made for you, nearly running to his office. you scan your badge and wave to his receptionist, who gave a soft smile to you.

you storm into jeff’s office, where he sat on his desk with his hands folded in his lap, a soft smirk on your face. you close the door to his office, locking it and dropping your things. “you made me take.. those.. damn horny pills.. didn’t you?” you pant, kicking your shoes off and walking over to him. jeff had that shit-eating grin on his face, looking down at you.

“my good girl, you always listen to daddy, hm?” he hummed, holding your chin. you look up at him with puppy dog, rubbing your hands up and down his thighs.

“always, daddy. i need you so bad. i’ve been such a good girl for you, please touch me, daddy” you beg and jeff smirks, leaning down and kissing you. your fingers undo his pants, freeing his throbbing cock. jeff groaned into your mouth as you jerked his cock at a fast pace.

“come on, baby, i know you need me more, hm? what do you want? i’ll give it to you. just ask” he purred against your neck and you whimper, taking his hand and putting it under your dress. jeff gasped, laying you on his desk. “no underwear? oh, honey, you really were ready” he smiled. “i didn’t have to touch you, and you’re dripping wet. who’s all of this for?”

“you, daddy, you. please, p-lease taste me” your fingers raked through his hair, bringing his head down. you jolted and gripped his hand, rolling your hips against his tongue. “i’m close already, please let me cum, daddy”

“already? oh sweetheart, i want you to cum on daddy’s cock” he flipped you over and bent you over his desk, teasing the tip of his cock against your pussy. you reached back, pulling his blazer forward and making him push his cock into you. you whimper, thrusting your hips back against him.

“let me, baby” he pushed your hand away, gripping your hair and thrusting roughly into you. you roll your eyes back, moaning and holding the edge of his desk. “that feel good, hm? you’ve been waiting for daddy’s cock all day, huh?”

“yes, daddy, fuck.. it feels so good” you moan, trying not to cum so quickly. jeff’s hand smacks your ass a couple times, groaning as he kisses your back.

“you gonna cum, honey? i feel you clenching your pussy around me” you bite your lip, the taste of iron spreading on your tongue. “i want you to be quiet when you cum, alright? we don’t need the whole office knowing how good i’m fucking you”

jeff picks you up, putting one foot on his desk with your other standing you up. you turn backward, jeff’s chin on your shoulder as he pants. your right hand holds his tie, the other hand stroking his cock behind you and teasing it up and down your folds. (nsft gif)

he pushes forward, wrapping a hand around your neck and thrusting into you again. “you’re so fucking good, baby, look at you. you’re such a good girl for daddy’s cock” you whimper and nod, looking at him. “you drive me crazy, you know that? i can’t stop thinking about you”

“please daddy.. please..” you beg, basically crying as you beg to cum. jeff smiles, leaving open-mouth kisses along your jaw and neck. he hums, leaving a couple hickeys on your neck and shoulder.

“cum for me, honey. cum on daddy’s cock” jeff’s hand covers your mouth as you moan loudly, dropping your legs that violently shook. jeff gasped, gripping your chin. “look at what you did to daddy’s suit” your eyes travel down to his stomach, eyes widening when you notice he was soaked.

“did i-”

“yes, you did. oh my god, i didn’t know you could do that” he chuckled, bringing you to your knees. “but, you made a mess. now you’re gonna swallow daddy’s mess, understood?”

“yes daddy” jeff taps his cock against your tongue, holding onto your hair as he pushes his cock into your mouth. tears fall from the corner of your eyes, looking up at jeff whose nose was scrunched, mouth in the shape of an ‘o’ with beautiful moans coming out of it.

“so good for me, such a pretty mouth” he groaned, running his fingers through your hair. your nails scratch up the backs of his thighs, pulling him forward and gagging against his cock. jeff moaned, putting your hair into a make shift ponytail as he came down your throat. “mm, fuck, swallow it all, baby. good girl..” he sighed, pulling away. you gasp, saliva trailing from his cock to your mouth. jeff’s thumb wiped away the spit, and you stand up, kissing jeff passionately as you stable yourself.

“thank you daddy, but please, i never want those pills again, they were torture” jeff chuckles, rubbing his thumb over your jaw and kissing you again.

“okay, honey, i won’t give them to you anymore. thank you for telling me” you both clean up and get dressed, jeff organizing the papers on his desk that were scattered. “do you want me to go to lunch with you, honey? it’s nearly 1″

“i would love that” you smile, jeff smiling and nodding.

“do you want to go shopping for a little bit or no?” he grabbed his phone, wallet and keys, putting them in his pockets and holding out his hand.

“no, i just want lunch with my boyfriend” you smile, but it quickly dropped when you realized what you said. you and jeff really hadn’t talked about labels instead of ‘sugar baby’ and ‘sugar daddy.’ you were a pair for 4 months, with sex, dinner ‘dates’ and gifts. “no wait, fuck, jeff i’m-”

“shut up” he chuckled, leaning down and kissing you passionately. his arms wrap around your waist, spinning you around softly. “i’m your boyfriend now”

“it just slipped! i’m sorry” you laugh against his lips, jeff pulling away a little and looking you up and down.

“i’m glad you let it slip, because i wanted to be more than your sugar daddy for weeks�� he breathed and you threw your head back.

“then why didn’t you say anything!” you smack his shoulder and he gives you his award-winning smile.

“i don’t know, i really don’t. but, i’m really happy to be your boyfriend. i love spoiling the shit out of you” he confesses and you giggle, kissing him over and over.

“alright, alright!” you laugh, pushing him away from him kissing you on your neck and chest. “i’m hungry. let’s go eat, please”

“of course. your pick” he locks the office doors, telling his receptionist, julia, he was going out to lunch with his girlfriend. he was so proud to have you on his arm as his girlfriend, and loved the name for you. but nothing could replace his favorite nickname for you, ‘honey.’

#jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #jeff wittek x you #jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek imagines #jeff wittek smut #smut #jeff's barbershop #the vlog squad #vlog squad #david’s vlog #david's vlogs #david dobrik vlogs

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paintdface · 3 years

Text

moths to a flame: one

“i know you don’t like to think of it as a celebration, but i couldn’t help myself.” he shrugs his stocky shoulders. calloused hands reach for the crystal and holds it in the air. “because if anything, we can celebrate that night bringing us together. i’m happy you’re in my life.”

reader x din djarin horror/thriller modern au.

tw: blood, kidnap, hospital mention, some mentions of nsfw content.

word count: 3.4k.

A/N: i hope you enjoy this story as much as i enjoy writing it. i would love to hear what you think of it! a pinterest board for this story is here. the preface to this part is here. the header is by @/packsparadise.

… twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two.

your eyes fly open beneath the surface of the water. everything above is obscured by the bath water. you can barely make out the tiles on the walls or the color of your shower curtain. you wait a few more seconds to see how long you can stay underwater before you spring to life. bath water sloshes over the sides with a quiet splash. you gasp for air like the way you did years ago on that godforsaken road. this time you don’t feel the icy air fill your lungs and you’re grateful. gripping the sides of the tub, you fix your gaze on the dripping faucet, feeling your heart race in your chest. your ex-therapist told you to focus on something when you felt this way— when you felt like your heart was going to leap out of your chest.

that was the only good thing they ever taught you.

sinking back into the water, you let the bath water sit at your chin. it’s cold now. cold and still. you’ve been in the bath so long your fingers are pruny. a foot peeks out of the water, painted toes curl around the shower valve to turn on the hot water. you welcome the feeling of warmth again.

your gaze drifts from the faucet to the phone resting on top of the bathroom counter. although it was turned off, you kept it close just in case. you dreaded the inevitable moment you’d turn it back on. you would be greeted with missed calls, texts and emails. some from the few friends you have left, some from reporters, some from family and one from him. from the man who saved you on the worst night of your life.

you said he didn’t have to keep in contact with him even though you wanted him to. you understood that he had a life of his own; one that didn’t involve sticking around for you when you needed comfort. but, he insisted. he said he wanted to keep track of you. he wanted to make sure you were safe. after all this time he cared.

once the water runs cold again, you finally rise from the basin. water drips off your skin, the droplets echoing in the empty bathroom. you grab the towel from the rack and wrap it around your body before stepping out. the bathroom mirror is foggy making your face look distorted. your features are no longer visible. you only see a silhouette and hair— not the slope of your nose, not the mascara smudged around your sleepless eyes, not the scars littering your skin. reaching forward, you wipe at the mirror until familiar pieces of you are revealed.

you’re grateful you recognize yourself today.

reluctantly, you grab your phone before exiting the bathroom. instead of getting dressed you collapse on to the unmade bed. your finger holds down the on button of your phone and you place it face down on your chest. it only takes a few seconds for it to begin buzzing. notifications light up the screen.

“shit.”

you could turn it off. you could ignore the prying questions and condolences. you could run away. yet, you turn it back on and look.

the date lights up the screen. the anniversary of the day you were saved. it should be a day for celebration. after all, you survived. but the way exhaustion clings to your limbs and sleep is heavy on your eyes puts you in no mood to celebrate.

combing through the endless messages, you skim the sentences and delete almost half. emails from curious journalists make you roll your eyes.

sent at 8:03: hi my name is amy daniels from the new york times and i was wondering if i could get a comment about the anniversary…

delete.

sent at 10:36: good morning, i am the producer of a nightly news talk show at cnn and i wanted to know if you would be interested…

delete.

sent at 11:17: this is jose ramos from realtruecrimefans.com messaging you again about your thoughts on your kidnapper, riley williams, current whereabouts…

your heart clenches in your chest at the sight of his name. you try to avoid thinking about him. you avoid saying his name. the last time you said his name is when you wrote about him in your memoir. his name wasn’t worth the energy it took to say his name.

riley williams was dead. at least to you he’s dead. no one has seen or heard from him since you ran away. the police searched for weeks to no avail. search parties went out at night combing through the woods to search for him. it didn’t take long for the media to pick up a story of a beautiful girl gone missing and found in the woods after breaking free. for weeks after your escape, his picture was everywhere. it was a nation wide manhunt. it continued once you wrote your memoir titled “forty-seven days in hell: my personal journey” and everyone wanted to be the one to put him in jail.

yet, no one found him. he was gone.

a few deep breaths later and you’re continuing to weed out messages. everything felt like bullshit. even the texts from the few friends you had left lacked genuineness. you sent back half-assed replies and listened to the voicemails, but never called anyone back. there was only one person you wanted to hear from today.

din.

you scroll until you see his name. he texted you early this morning. he texted you when he knew you would be asleep.

din: hey, darling. hope you slept well. call me if you need anything.

you smile. something you loved about din is he never pushed your boundaries. he gave you your space, but knew if you needed him, he’d be there. even though he didn’t live in the city, he always came. he was always there when you wanted him.

you hit the call button and listen. it only takes a few rings before you hear the low, steady tone of his soothing voice.

“hey, you’re up.”

“i am… are you surprised?”

the sound of his muffled laughter chimes on the other end. “maybe a little,” he pauses for a moment. “how are you holding up?” you can tell he’s nervous to ask because he’s not sure what the answer will be.

you sigh. rolling over on to your stomach, you shrug like he can see you. “i’m okay.” you’re not sure what to say. deep down you’re not fine, but you crave normalcy. you want to feel normal. “it just feels… weird. today should be like any other day, but it’s not.” your confession surprises you.

“we can make it normal.” the sound of ‘we’ makes your heart flutter. “i was planning on coming to the city for business. we can meet for dinner?”

you know he’s probably not coming to the city for work, but he’s coming for you. every year since he saved you he came into the city on the anniversary. he’d meet you for dinner at the same restaurant, at the same table and you two would act normal when you really weren’t.

“i’d love that. same place?”

“same place at seven.” you can hear movement on the other end. the sound of grogu barking in the background makes you happy. you miss him. “hey, darling?”

“yes?”

“if you need me to come earlier, i will. just say the word and i’m there.”

your eyes flutter shut. god, he was the only one you ever wanted. the only one who treated you like a person. “i will.” but you know you won’t. “i’ll see you then.”

“i’ll see you then. take care of yourself, darling.” and then the line goes cold and the familiar beep tells you he hung up.

—

shaky hands reach for the heat pouring out of the vents. your hugging the heat and the door; both for warmth and for a quick escape in case your hero turns out to be a villain. you’ve already learned your lesson about trusting people. the only sound filling the truck’s cabin is the engine revving as the driver tears through the roads, your teeth chattering and the dog at your neck happily panting.

it’s only until he finally says something. “what’s your name?”

“d-darling.”

he quickly glances away from the road and in your direction. “what kind of name is darling?”

“my name. that’s my name.” you hate how bitter you sound. you should be grateful.

“okay…” he clears his throat and continues driving for awhile before finally breaking the silence again. “what happened to you? who took you? who did this to you?” he sounded concerned and calm, yet there was a hint of anger lacing his words.

you’re reluctant to say anything, but you knew you should get used to telling your tale. you’d have to say it a hundred more times: to police, to journalists, to your family. “he said his name was riley,” you shudder at the name. hopefully, you’ll never have to say his name again. “we met at a bar and i thought he was nice, but he— he—” you can’t get the words out. the sound of sobs cut through your words. everything was catching up to you. the gravity of the situation weighed you down, tying you to earth. tethering you to this smelly truck with a big eyed dog and a pair of mysterious brown eyes. “please just get me out of here!”

you can hear him swallow hard. “it’s okay. just stay calm. we’re almost at the main roads.” he glances over at you. you can barely make out his face in the dark, but you still see those beautiful brown eyes. something to cling to— another beacon of hope. “there’s a police station a few miles out. i know the captain. he’ll help you.”

shaking, your arms wrap around you, like you’re protecting yourself. no matter how tight you hug yourself you can’t stop trembling. your feet are numb, your eyes are heavy, your head hurts and the emptiness in your stomach catches up with you. weakly you utter, “wh-what’s your name?” “din. my name is din.”

despite your better judgement your eyes begin to flutter and your body goes numb. it gets harder to breathe, but you’re too tired to care. it’s easier to give in to the darkness. you’ve done enough; there’s no more fight left.

“din.” it’s the last thing you say before your eyes flutter shut and pass out. you don’t wake again until you’re in a hospital bed. you scream his name until a nurse runs in and you demand to see the man that saved you. you pull at the i.v. needle in your arm, thrash in the scratchy sheets and rip at the oxygen at your nose until they sedate you.

hours later you’re awake and he’s at your bedside. he doesn’t leave until visiting hours are over. he’ll keep coming back until you ask him not to— which is never.

—

it takes you a long time to peel yourself off of the bed. your silhouette is imprinted on the bed from lying there in a wet towel for so long. the white cotton towel falls at your feet. it takes you forever to file through your closet to find the right outfit. you’re looking for something in between fancy and not trying too hard. you wanted to look good; you’re not sure if it’s for din or yourself.

you settle on a dress and boots. the dress had been worn a million times and the boots had walked miles through new york, but they’re your favorite. it’s like wearing a safety blanket. you take your time getting ready considering it’s hours until seven. you drift around your apartment with a glass of red wine in hand. your biggest vice is cheap red wine. it was something to make you forget. a glass of hope, you lovingly told your concerened best friend.

the more you drink the more you feel like you’re floating. you have plenty of room to roam considering how spacious your apartment is— it’s far too big for a single person in new york. you were only able to afford it from the royalties you made off your book. turns out writing a book about your trauma and exposing your open wounds to the world had its perks. who knew?

—

you ended up dancing barefoot in your apartment with a glass of red wine spilling from your glass as you moved. you didn’t care about the stains on the overly priced rug in your living room, you were just happy to feel something good again. the future of seeing din again and the warm feeling the wine gave you was your miniature escape. when you glance at your phone you realize you’re almost late. curse words are shouted out into your apartment as you stumble your way towards the front door, balancing your bag and putting on your shoes as you went.

despite your late start, you make it to the restaurant on time. the minute you walk in your eyes are settled on the table in the corner. it’s the same table he always got for you. din’s back is turned to you, but you notice the familiar mop on his head and the broad shoulders enclosed by the only suit he owned. same old din, you think. sighing, your chest rises and falls as you watch him. you watch as he talks to the waiter and sip at his glass, occasionally looking down at his watch, wondering if this time you’ll be late. smiling, you walk to the back of the restaurant.

“hi,” you greet him. it doesn’t take long for him to stand up and pull you into his arms. you collide with his strong torso and your arms circle around his middle. you bury your face into his chest and his chin is tucked in to the top of your head. his cologne lingers on his collar— warm spice and must. your favorite. it feels perfect. it was what you longed for all day. you wished the embrace lasted longer, but he pulls away and gestures towards the seat across from him.

“hey, darling.” he finally says. “glad you could make it.”

you almost roll your eyes. he knows you have nothing else going on. you don’t have a traditional 9-5, you keep to yourself and you never miss a meeting with din. but, he’s nice for saying so. he’s always so nice— a lot nicer and more trusting than you’ve ever been.

“how’s my boy?” you eagerly ask, shedding yourself of your coat.

“grogu?” his brows raise, asking as if there isn’t another floppy eared boy you’d refer to. “he’s good. even though he’s an old man, he still acts like a puppy. it’s like it’s the first day i rescued him from the shelter.” his eyes light up as he talks about grogu. the well trained dog was din’s life. you fell in love with him, too. he made you feel safe the same way din did.

“i miss him…” your words trail off. your eyes peer up from the menu at the other. “i missed you.”

din wets his lips. his eyes are soft as he gazes at you, trying to see if you’ve changed at all since the last time you got together. “i missed you too. it’s been too long.”

“it has.”

you two catch up and go through the pleasantries. you ask about grogu and work and the shitty truck he refuses to give up. he asks you about your writing and if you’re still going to therapy and you lie and say both are going well.

you haven’t written in weeks and stopped going to therapy three months ago.

it doesn’t take long until two champagne flutes are placed in front of you and you can’t help but scoff. of course he would.

even though you didn’t feel like tonight was a night for bubbles and toasts, you grab your glass and mimic him anyway. you don’t do much for other people, but you’ll do this for him.

“to us.” your glass collides with his and you empty its contents.

—

dinner was lovely. you two reminisced on all your memories together, drank too much wine and ate too much food. he watched you devour chocolate cake and cheesecake. you laughed about how you only live once and he was less than pleased with your joke.

afterwards, he insisted on walking you home. you wanted to say that you were fine walking alone, but you’re too selfish and you wanted him around a little longer before he had to go home. you walked in silence, shoulders brushing against one another. occasionally his hand would rest on your lower back to guide you across streets or to pull you closer when strange men got too close. his touch was something you craved.

sometimes, late at night when you were alone and couldn’t sleep, you thought about his touch in other ways. your mind drifted when it skimmed down your stomach and under the covers to travel in between parted thighs. you thought about the sweat on his brow, his worn hands on your hips and his breath hot on your neck. his usual calm, sturdy voice turned more needy and soft— longing for you the way you longed for him. your name falling from parted lips to say, “darling, darling, darling.” just like the flames did. it felt wrong to think of din that way, but you couldn’t help it.

some nights you wondered if he was thinking the same thing, too.

your walk together ended all too soon. his hand removed from the small of your back and were stuffed into his slack pockets. he let out a long sigh before breaking the silence, “guess this is where i go.”

you frown. “din, you can stay the night. i have a couch you can crash on and in the morning you can go home.” you hated how you sounded like you were pleading.

his head dropped. “i gotta get home to grogu and i have work in the morning.” he sounded like he was trying to convince himself not to stay the night.

“can you at least walk me to my door?”

he silently nods and you’re happy for the small victory. the elevator ride up to your apartment is silent just like the walk home and for a moment you feel a tension. it was palpable. you swore you could touch the energy between you two.

or were you making it up?

he walks you to your door and you stop short. there’s an envelope lying on your doorstep. carefully, you approach it, nearly tip toeing it like you’re afraid there’s landmines. like the parchment would blow up in your face.

bending down, you reach for the paper and examine the outside. there’s no address, no postage stamp, nothing. it said: to my darling.

your heart sinks and you can feel din at your side. his hand curls around your forearm. “are you sure you want to open that? could be a stupid prank.” but you don’t say a word. you only proceed to open it with shaky hands. the envelope falls at your feet and you read the contents of the page. a single sentence written in blood:

i’m always watching you, my love. - r.w.

your hands shake and your crumble the paper into a ball and sink to your feet, din is there to catch you, slowly lowering your body to the ground.

all of that work you did in therapy, all the glasses of wine, all the dinners with din went out the window. you felt as small as you did that night. riley williams was alive and he knew exactly where you were. you were no longer safe. you never really were.

one thing was for sure, din was not going home tonight.

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandolorian x reader #the mandalorian au #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian #mine #moths to a flame

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comfy-whumpee · 4 years

Text

Fine, Fine, Fine

@whumptober2020 Day 29: Reluctant Bedrest, as requested by @for-the-love-of-angst <3

Tyverse Tagllst: @lonesome--hunter, @iaminamoodymoodtoday, @wildfaewhump, @ishouldblogmore, @lektricwhump, @that-one-thespian, @raigash, @burtlederp

CN: referenced head injury.

Jim had heard of seeing stars, but this was the whole galaxy.

“Mugambi,” someone yelled across the kitchen. “Jim! Stop what you’re up to right now, I saw that!”

Jim blinked. His vision blurred, and then settled. He was okay.

“Jim!”

“I’m-mm okay!”

“Bullshit!”

Oh, that was the head chef. If he was saying that, Jim was in trouble. “No, r-really I’m okay.”

“Who’s finishing next? Abisha! Abs, you gotta drive Jim home, alright? Incident book, where’s that?”

“Office. Sit down, Mugambi.”

There were hands on him, tugging him towards a chair. Who had brought a chair in? That was fast. Jim felt himself sitting down in it, and someone held him there.

“Alright, what happened?”

“Clocked his head on the oven door. Really smacked it. Like, three minutes ago. Look at him, he’s not good.”

“I’m fine,” Jim protested.

“Classic Jim. Alright, ten minutes till Abisha finishes. Jim, if you get up, you’re fired.”

Jim blinked. The person threatening to fire him did not have the authority to do so.

“Who’s first aider?”

“He is.”

“Fuck me. Get the big man down.”

A blink or two later and Jeff was there. His tie was purple. Silky. There was a floral pattern in it.

“Look at the finger, Jim.”

Jim tried. He lost it somewhere on the right. He found it again, though. So it was fine.

“Yeah, let’s get you home. Hold this over the bump, alright?”

Jim felt something cold pressed into his hand, and he lifted it to cover the pain. It hurt worse at first, and then began to fade with a throb. How long had he been in pain?

Later, he was in a car. Things were a bit clearer then. He told Abisha his address, and she drove him there. The car was a noisy car. Abisha liked driving fast, revved it at red lights. He made fun of her, and she laughed.

“He can hold a conversation,” she said, when they were at the door. Ty was there, hand in his sleeve, sleeve around the handle. “Jeff said he’s good to sleep if he wants to, but keep him in bed because he’s uncoordinated.” She paused. “D’you need a hand getting him there?”

“I’m fine,” Jim said. “I can go. Hi Ty.”

Ty stepped aside, and they watched together as Jim strode determinedly towards the bedroom. It was quieter in here, which was nice. His ears were ringing. When he flopped down, his head stopped moving so much, and that was nice too.

The door closed. Jim sat up, blinking away the dizzy swirl behind his eyes. “She’s gone?”

Ty was in the doorway, frowning but also smiling. “Yeah. You hit your head?”

“Yeah. But I’m fine.” Jim smiled. “Can I get up?”

“No. You’re going to stay in bed and lie down.”

Jim pouted. It felt weird and squishy. Ty was cute in his blue hoodie. “Can I have a shower?”

“You can shower tomorrow. Lie down.”

Jim rolled his head back and flopped horizontally. “Fine. Only because I love you. Can you stay?”

There was a little pause. Jim turned his head, and saw that Ty was smiling. That made him proud.

“Yeah, I’ll stay. As long as you lie in bed.”

Jim groaned, but it was light-hearted. “Fine. I’m fine. But fine.”

#whumptober2020 #no.29 #reluctant bedrest #my fic #whump #group caretaking #jim #ty #concussed #head injury

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cosmic-hearts · 4 years

Text

castles in the air | lee donghyuck | three

lee donghyuck x female reader

genre; enemies-to-lovers, friendship, romance, fluff, angst

warnings; none

foreword; in which you might be a real-life princess with a prince promised to you right from the start, but you won’t be getting your happy ever after.

<< previous chapter | next chapter >>

Over the next couple of dates, it’s like a switch has been flicked in your relationship with Donghyuck. You could finally say with confidence that he’s a friend, and you’re grateful for this time with him; it feels like you’re both catching up on all the lost years.

Sure, he made fun of you constantly for that obnoxious heart-shaped Prada Odette Heart Bag you always carried around with you for casual dates, and for wearing Dior sneakers on the rare days you weren’t in heels. God, that bag looks like it’s for a twelve-year old. And who the hell wears Dior sneakers? I didn’t even know freaking Dior sold sneakers. You tried explaining to him that it was an AF1xDior collaboration special but that didn’t soften his judgement in any way, so you settled for calling him an uncultured jerk. And there was the time he got gravy on your prized pink bag and you nearly stabbed him with your butter knife.

But there were sweeter times too. When he was feeling generous and perhaps more than a little sentimental, he sang you songs as you two sat on the hood of his car, soaking up the moonlight. These days were rare and therefore exceedingly precious, and though you’d never tell him, you cherished them deeply. His voice whisked you away from this sublunary world, to a place filled with the breath of angels and flights of fancy, a place where you could build castles in the air and wonder what it would be like if what you had with Donghyuck was real.

You love every second with him.

That said, you’re already regretting your decision to go with Donghyuck to his senior high prom. Even your coveted Sadek Majed Summer Spring Couture gown (literally woven with all the blessings of spring) isn’t enough to keep anxiety from clawing its way through the perfectly fitted waistline. It might have something to do with the fact that you’ve never actually been to a prom before.

It doesn’t get any better when you step into his school and all eyes are on you. Perhaps it’s your gown; you had a feeling you’d overdone it this time. You knew it from the moment you got into Donghyuck’s car and his jaw literally dropped. When you asked him what was wrong, he looked away, cleared his throat and gripped the steering wheel unnecessarily hard without bothering to reply. You knew maybe you’d taken it a little too far, but you didn’t think you looked that bad.

Donghyuck brings you to the auditorium, then promptly abandons you in search of Jaemin. You’d expected as much—Lee Donghyuck may have the voice of an angel, but he most certainly isn’t one.

You sip your glass of punch, and when you set it down you see someone’s come to sit opposite you.

“Hi,” she says, eyes curving into crescents, “I think we’ve met before.”

You take a good look at the girl; she’s dressed in a baby blue rafaela dress, obsidian locks tumbling across her shoulders, a sharp contrast to her alabaster complexion.

“Oh, that’s right,” you say, eyes widening in recognition, “Sohui, right? Donghyuck’s girlfriend?”

“Yup,” she says, “I just wanted to say thank you for that day. When you spoke up for me… I really appreciated it.”

You smile. “It’s no problem. Don’t worry about it.”

Sohui scoots over to sit next to you. “I absolutely love your dress. It’s so pretty.”

“Thanks. I really like yours too.”

Silence ensues for a moment, then she says, “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Sure, what is it?” “It’s about Donghyuck.”

Your grip on your glass tightens just the slightest. Of course it would be about Donghyuck.

“I just wanted to ask, when will this whole fake dating thing end? I know I might seem like a really jealous girlfriend right now, but… I’m actually asking for Donghyuck.”

For Donghyuck? “I’m not sure,” you reply truthfully, “but I can try to speed things up. I’m sorry about having to hog him like this; I know it’s not easy for you both.”

Her perfect face almost melts with relief. “Thank you,” she says, “that would be great. Donghyuck’s just been really stressed lately and I’m worried about him.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why has he been stressed? Did he say something?”

Sohui sighs, her shoulders falling into a slump. “I’m not sure if I should tell you this.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t say anything to him if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Okay then. I don’t know how to put this any other way, but… it might be because of you.”

And then she tells you. She finally tells you the reason why Donghyuck had spent the majority of his life hating you.

Your expression never once falters, not even a bit. Not even when Donghyuck returns and you witness his face light up at the sight of his real girlfriend.

You will not falter.

—

“Hey,” Donghyuck says, his voice filling the silence that had been permeating the car all the way back. “You’re being unusually quiet today.”

You fiddle with the embroidered flowers sewn into your dress, iridescent in the shaft of moonlight streaming through the car window. Tonight, even the beautiful artistry of fashion fails to make you smile.

“I’m just tired.”

Donghyuck laughs. “I didn’t ever think you could run out of energy at events like these. You always looked so perfectly put together at every single social function. Unlike me. God, I always found it all so tiring. I could never understand how you did it.”

You didn’t know me, you bite back the urge to say, just like how I still don’t know you.

It seems like years pass before he reaches your house, and for once, you can’t wait to bolt out of the car, to run as far away from him as possible.

“By the way, I wanted to tell you something.”

You respond with a questioning glance. Donghyuck’s gaze darts away from you and he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly.

“When I first saw you just now… I didn’t think you looked bad at all. Really.”

Your heart stills for a moment.

“I thought you looked... really pretty. I mean, you still look… really pretty, of course.”

You give him a polite smile, say thank you and goodnight, step out of the car and walk away until you hear the sound of the engine revving.

It is then that you finally fall apart.

“His hatred for you… it’s because he feels that you’re tying him down. Holding him back from all the things he wants to achieve. He told me that he hated you because he was made to marry you from the start and he viewed this marriage as a prison. He feels that you’re taking his freedom away from him.”

Your head spins.

“So you can probably see… having to spend all this time with you… it’s taking a toll on him. I think for his sake, you should end it soon.”

You let out a bitter chuckle at your own hypocrisy—you wanted to help him reach for the stars, but you’re the one who’s chaining him to the ground.

Your house stands before you like a castle gleaming in the starlight. You sigh, a soft sound that escapes immediately into the darkness.

All this time, you were merely building castles in the air. How naive of you to believe that what you and Donghyuck had could ever be real.

But you’re strong and you don’t need anyone, you tell yourself. You close your eyes, imagining the moonlight washing away the pain, the starlight making you new and whole again. You’ll be ready to make things right; it’s the least you can do for Donghyuck.

And you? You’ll be okay. You always are.

—

“Darling, you look absolutely fabulous.”

You won’t demur or say otherwise, not when you actually do think you look ready to rule the goddamn universe tonight.

You decided on a dress from POEM Couture’s autumn-winter collection, and you really do think you look like a dream, ethereal almost. Your hair is put up in a low tendril twist bun with curled wisps escaping from the knot, framing the sides of your face.

You’re about to head downstairs to check in on the decorations when your phone screen lights up with a message.

From: hyuck

happy birthday, see u later ;) mayhaps i got u a present

Jaw tightening, you put your phone facedown on your desk.

Don’t ruin your makeup, you say sternly to yourself, swallowing harshly to get rid of the sudden thickness in your throat.

You just need to get through this night and everything will be okay again.

—

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you so much for being here to celebrate my daughter’s 18th birthday with us today.”

Donghyuck looks out at the sea of people in stiff suits and designer dresses, and pulls uncomfortably at his necktie. How many of these people do you actually know, he wonders? They’re probably your parents’ colleagues, friends, rivals, people they wanted to show you off to. They’re milling about at your birthday celebration, making polite, small talk and pretending like they actually want to be here.

“Y/N has always been the most perfect child,” your mother coos into the mic, “and we’re so lucky to have her as our daughter. Today is a very special day; our daughter has grown up into a beautiful young lady, with a beautiful mind of her own. And I’m so happy that she has finally found the one for her to blossom through her eighteenth year with.” She sends a wink in Donghyuck’s direction, and he offers back a weak smile while his own parents look proudly on.

He wonders where you are, and why you haven’t replied to his text. Then again, he imagines that you must be absolutely swamped with preparations for today. He makes a mental note to go find you later so he can pass you your present in private.

“All right, I won’t delay this anymore. After all, this is my daughter’s night, not mine. Everyone, I present to you, Y/N!”

Like magic, you appear from the shadows of the upper wing and all goes quiet.

Donghyuck’s eyes widen.

He doesn’t know much about fashion, but it doesn’t take much to realize that you’re dressed to kill tonight. The midnight purple bodice of your gown fades out into a lush pink in a glorious ombre, like twilight melding with a rosy sunrise. Your hair is delicately tied in a low bun, curly wisps gently kissing the sides of your face. Under the luminous light of the chandelier above, your skin is aglow with radiance, eyes aflame with a sparkle that takes his breath away.

As you descend the grand staircase, a hand on the gold rail, a regal aura is composed around you and time seems to stop. Donghyuck swears he can hear several sharp intakes of breath.

You look just like a princess.

You look like you have the blood of a royal running through your veins. If Donghyuck has the ability to command and captivate with his voice, you too have that same ability, but with your mere presence.

“Oh, my darling daughter,” your mother gushes, arms extended towards you. She raises a hand towards Donghyuck, signalling him to come over.

“I’m so glad you two are finally together. I mean, we knew it would happen all along, but now that it’s finalized, I can rest assured,” she announces, and Donghyuck finds that he can scarcely lift his eyes to meet yours; you’re simply too dazzling.

The crowd erupts into applause, and at first it is low, quiet him, but it soon morphs into a collective cheer, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

You cast a despairing glance at your mother, trying to convey to her the sheer impropriety of such a notion, but she merely winks at you and whispers, “Don’t worry, we’re not all that old-fashioned.”

Unconsciously, you grab a fistful of your dress as your heart begins to race. You simply cannot kiss Donghyuck, that would literally be the end of you. Donghyuck would hate it with every fibre of his being, and you don’t want to force him into doing this; he would hate you even more than he already does. You absolutely cannot bear the thought of tasting the disgust on his lips—

A warm hand closes around yours, the one that’s nervously clutching onto the folds of your dress. Your fist uncurls and your relaxes as Donghyuck threads his fingers through yours, his grip firm but gentle. He places his other hand on your cheek and whispers so softly that you know it is meant for your ears alone,

“Can I kiss you?”

You look up into his eyes, expecting to find reluctance and discomfort, but instead, his eyes are burning with a sort of—you wouldn’t call it desire, not exactly, but more of determination to see this moment through, because he too knows that there’s no way out of this.

So you let your eyelids flutter shut to indicate your assent; you might as well get this done and over with, it’s all meaningless anyway and Donghyuck knows it too.

But the moment his lips meet yours, a shower of sparks explodes in your chest and you can feel your heart sing. Your grip on his hand tightens as you attempt to hold him close and you will this moment to last forever so that you can memorize the sweet taste of his lips on yours, the heat of his hand against your cheek, handling you with such gentleness and care you almost believe this charade you’re both playing is real. He presses his lips against yours just a little deeper, draws you closer to him ever so slightly, thumb stroking your flushed cheek, and a shiver of electricity jolts through your veins, sending a chill down your spine—maybe the castles you’d been building in the air can be real after all.

But this isn’t a fairytale, and your happy ever after won’t come by so easily.

Donghyuck’s lips leave yours. As quickly as it had begun, it was over, and the castles crumble right before you. You can’t hear the whoops and cheers arising from all around—in that moment, all you are aware of is Lee Donghyuck, gazing down at you with the darkness of midnight in his eyes and stardust streaked across his face.

You’re suddenly transported back to a cramped, dimly-lit closet, where a boy huddled so close to you you could feel his breath on the shell of your ear and see the beauty spots that speckled his skin. Like stardust.

“... if I kiss you, you might just fall in love with me. Can’t risk that now, can we?”

How right he is. You almost let out a sardonic laugh right then and there.

You’re royally screwed, and all it took was a single kiss.

—

You gaze out at the cityscape below you, breathing in the cool night air on the balcony and watching the twinkling nightlife of the rest of the world. You hope the chilly winds will cool the warmth in your cheeks and restore your former composure, so you won’t look like you’ve just been wrecked apart with the mere sensation of Donghyuck’s lips on yours.

That would be too humiliating.

You’re about to turn around and go back to the party, back to where you should be, when you feel a soft tug on your bun. Your hair escapes free from its tight hold and falls down your back, a long and lustrous stream illuminated by moonlight.

You turn to the side and see Donghyuck, eyes gleaming with mischief. The familiarity of this action makes your heart swell; it’s like he’s reminding you of the memories he made with you. It’s like he’s deliberately making this so damn difficult for you.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten that you haven’t returned me my Scrunchie,” you say, and Donghyuck lets out a loud guffaw.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get it back soon.”

Then his gaze suddenly drops away from yours, towards the floor. He rubs the back of his neck, cheeks blazing. “About just now—,”

“Thank you for that. I really appreciated it, and I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“N-No,” Donghyuck says, a little too quickly, “it was fine for me.. Really. I was actually wondering if you were okay with it.”

Oh, he had no idea.

“We did what we had to do, and that’s all that matters,” you reply, turning away from him to face the night.

You two stand in silence for a moment, your heart hammering in your chest as you gather up the courage let Donghyuck go.

Now.

“Y/N,” Donghyuck starts, right at the exact moment you say, “I think it’s time.”

Donghyuck tilts his head to the side, eyes focused on you. “You go first.”

You take a deep breath and plough forth. No turning back now. “I think it’s time to stop this. Tomorrow I’ll tell my parents that I want to cancel the engagement.”

Donghyuck freezes, eyes wide, and for a moment you think you saw a glimpse of hurt flash across his eyes. But you must be deluding yourself.

“Why?”

You raise an eyebrow in feigned incredulity. “What do you mean why? We were supposed to end all of this after we tried it out for a while, just to show our parents that we were putting in the effort. I’ll let them know tomorrow that I want to break up with you. I think we’ve fake dated for long enough and it should be enough to convince our parents. It’s time we both moved on, don’t you think?” you say, doing your best to keep your tone light while twirling a lock of hair around your finger and hoping you were a picture-perfect portrait of absolute indifference. And not a shaking mess.

Donghyuck’s eyes are glassy, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he looked crushed.

“I just have one question,” he says, eyes boring into you, “well, two, actually.”

You lift your chin to meet his gaze, a defiant shine in your eyes and a coy smile on your lips. “Go ahead.”

“Did you feel anything when we kissed?”

It is your turn to freeze. Why would he ask this? And how can you possibly tell him that when he kissed you it was like a thousand angels were singing in unison, and you felt your heart soaring to places it had never been before? That if you could, you would grab his collar, pull him towards you and claim his lips just once more—

“Are you drunk right now, Lee Donghyuck? That’s literally the craziest thing to ask. Of course I didn’t.”

His eyes harden. “Great. Just… one more question then.”

You cross your arms over your chest because your hands are shaking visibly and you’re unable to stop them.

“Is this what you really want?”

Again, you’re assaulted by a wave of deja-vu—the same cold, starlit night on a different balcony, where he’d asked you the same question in all earnestness. Previously you weren’t sure if he really cared what you wanted, but now that you know he truly cares, it makes it all the more painful.

“I don’t want a model answer, Y/N. I’m asking you what you really want.”

You bite down hard on your lip, suppressing the wildness in you that screams no.

“Again, that’s a stupid question. Of course it’s what I want. Why wouldn’t it be? It’s what we both want, isn’t it? You wanted so much to break our marriage contract because you hate me. That’s why we’re doing all this in the first place.”

A film descends over his eyes at that moment and your heart breaks.

“You’re right,” he says after what seems like an eternity, voice barely above a whisper, “we should have ended this long ago. I’m sorry. For wasting your time.”

Your heart breaks at his words, even though you’d seen them coming from a mile away and you really don’t have the right to expect anything else. Your heart breaks at the way he’s already slipping away from you.

Even though he was never yours to begin with.

He steps closer to you and takes your wrist. You feel a prickle of electricity course through your bones, but he merely hands you a large shopping bag.

“Happy birthday, Y/N,” he says, with a smile that appears forced and yet genuine all at once. Like he really wants to smile at you but he can’t bring himself to.

And with that, he turns and leaves. You grip tightly onto the bag, fingernails digging into the skin of your palm as his silhouette fades back into the glow of the ballroom.

You don’t even have it in you to cry, to regret, to yell for him to come back.

Because the moment he left a gaping hole tore through you and now you are just too filled up with empty to feel anything.

—

Hey Y/N,

Happy birthday! I can’t believe it’s been so long since we started hanging out. Honestly, I’d long forgotten about our contract, and now that I think about it, it’s actually so stupid—how did we even come up with that bullshit? Then again, I guess I’m glad we did, because it gave us the opportunity to hang out and without it, I would never have known what a great person you are.

Here’s your Scrunchie (did you really think I wouldn’t give it back lol) and your birthday present, because I’m sorry I got gravy on your ugly ass Prada bag. Don’t worry, this one’s also from Prada, and I think it’s SO much nicer—my mum helped me get it custom made. I personally chose all the colors and the design, and it has your name inscribed inside so you’d better not lose it. Don’t you dare get gravy on this one or else I’ll literally come for your ass.

All right, now that that’s out of the way, it’s confession time. You’re right, I did hate you before (and it’s not because I hate pink, I swear), but I realized that it wasn’t personal. I just hated having to marry you, not because of you, but I just didn’t want to be in an arranged marriage. I thought that would take all my freedom away and I really didn’t want that. I’m sorry for hating you so much—that was just plain stupid of me.

But in a funny way, even though I saw you as killing my freedom, you were the one who gave it back to me—you were the one who rekindled my love for singing at a time when everyone around me was telling me I should give it up. I can’t believe you still remembered that I sing, by the way. I didn’t even know that you knew, so that was pretty cool of you. So yeah, I just wanted to say thank you for that, you have no idea how much it meant to me. How important it was to me. If you look inside the Prada bag you’ll find a USB drive. I’d actually been working on a song for you for a couple months just to say thank you. It’s called “Beautiful Time”, and I really hope you’ll like it.

I hope that whatever happens next, we’ll always be friends, because you’re seriously one of the coolest and strongest people I know. Sometimes I wish I had your strength; I don’t know if you know this, but you’re so strong it makes me jealous sometimes. It’s crazy how we’re the same age but you’re just so much more mature and stronger. You’re just… so amazing sometimes.

All right, before I puke writing this, let’s just end it here. Here’s to many more memories and great times, have a great birthday Y/N <3

Love, Donghyuck

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