#i tied it to my belt loop LMAO

[melluvsuu]

“ 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐓 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐖𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 .”

back to masterlist

character : dazai osamu

context : dazai falling for readers who’s gender-fluid (could be read as female or male reader)

authors notes : I thought about this like at 4 am with one of best friends and told my mootie patootie (@riiwrites ) and the forced me to writer at gunpoint /hj

warnings : ooc, implied bisexual dazai (literally the reason why I thought of this idea LMAO), gender neutral pronouns/no gender mentioned, probably not even proofread,, the more i write about it seems to lean into afab!reader,,, yosano mentioned, lmk if I missed any!

,, 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓. 𝜚

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈, you wouldn't think he'd short-circuit over the "smallest" change. you, the reader, identify as genderfluid. normally, you dress in a more masculine style, favouring suits and ties or sweatpants (if too lazy go dress up ‘formal casual’ and oversized shirts to hide your chest. however, after a hard-fought victory taking down yet another criminal organisation, the city decided to honour the agency with an invitation to a fancy party at city hall. the thought of dressing up for such a grand occasion made you excited, and you decided that embracing your feminine side for the evening wouldn't hurt.

a few days prior to the party, you and yosano went shopping together. she suggested the outing under the excuse of needing new clothes, but it was clear she just wanted to gossip. after hours of browsing, she picked out a simple dress—a simple yet elegant dark red gown with a daring slit up the side of the leg. to add an extra touch of style, she insisted you pair it with a black choker that contrasted beautifully with the dress. you, on the other hand chose a classic suit that hugged your body nicely, you chose to wear black heels (they only added like one inch to your height) and again for extra style you added a silver chain that went around your belt loops.

on the night of the party, you put on a little makeup, nothing much but enough to enchance your features. your hair, usually in a simple style, was styled elegantly to complement your look. as you glanced in the mirror, you felt a surge of confidence and anticipation.

arriving at the party, the atmosphere was electric. the chandeliers sparkled above, casting a warm glow over the room filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and soft music. your colleagues from the agency were scattered around, mingling and enjoying the celebration. you spotted dazai across the room, his usual playful smirk in place as he chatted with a group of people.

as you made your way over, his eyes landed on you, and for a moment, he seemed to freeze. His usually quick wit and smooth charm faltered, and you could see a flicker of surprise and admiration in his eyes. He approached you slowly, his usual cocky demeanour replaced with genuine awe.

“well, look who came all fancy,” he commented on your appearance, “trying to impress someone with those charms.”

“not really, unless a certain person is, then maybe i am.” you replied back with a simple smile and small fade of red on your face.

He just hummed as he looked away, seemingly flustered by your comment.

you couldn’t help but chuckle at this sight, the ‘dazai osamu’, the ever-confident flirt, rendered momentarily speechless by your sudden appearance. What a sight to see.

authors additional note : ending kind of sucks ass but it’s okay

word count : 474

reposts are welcome but do not steal my work!

[ohbo-ohno]

Rereading that noncon Ghoap puppy walk fic bc it makes me go insane. And I have so many questions. How can Johnny even breathe? What did they do beforehand that the others just immediately incorporate it into their routine? Did Gaz encounter puppy!Soap before? What are Price and Gaz thoughts on all this (Bc fuck, their commentary killed me - asking about belly rubs and giving advise on punishment)? Do they think this is completely consensual? Or do they suspect that there is more going on? Do they hope that there is more going on? Are they getting off on the thought of participating even in the smallest of ways in breaking down Soap? If ever Soap got his brains together enough to ask for help, would they give it to him or would they push him to his knees and take him like they always dreamed of doing and then return him to Ghost?

ahhh day 11 kinktober. my longest and least popular drabble from that month LMAO. tysm for asking about it!

i actually mapped quite a bit of that fic out in my head! but because it's entirely from soap's perspective, there are questions that you just can't answer yk?

first of all - it's pure erotica, so it exists in that kind of limbo that all semi-public/public erotica exists in - you've got to suspend your disbelief a bit, just for the sake of horniness lmao

1 - johnny can breathe (through his nose, because the hood isn't sealed shut), but not well. he's breathing heavily throughout the entire fic because of both his panic and the fact that he can only breathe through his nose

2 - i think i said this in another ask but! it was supposed to be that when ghost left johnny tied up at the beginning of the fic, he was going around and making sure only certain people were on base (hence price asking why he didn't come sign his paperwork). no rookies, since they could potentially lose all respect for soap, and no people who he knew were going to be shitty about it. the people he was okay with seeing johnny, he'd go up and say basically "i'm going to be doing public kink here later. either go or don't complain later". there probably aren't all that many people actually still on base, just lots of people looping around the building to watch

3 - gaz has probably caught the Vibe before, just from the way that ghost treats soap (and neither of them are subtle). price probably knows the extent of it just because he's their captain and he knows everything about all of them, but he's content to let them be. also gaz is probably just a kinky as them lmao, he doesn't care

4 - im soooo mixed on the "do price and gaz know it's not entirely consensual" thing. my gut says that price knows that ghost is manipulating soap, and gaz suspects. i think gaz might get a little worried, try and ask soap about it, and be mollified when soap near aggressively defends ghost. but price? he knows everything about them, doesn't he? but i think price also knows that sometimes the best thing for someone isn't always the nicest... and soap seems better with ghost, seems better after his training. as long as ghost isn't destroying him, he'll let them be

(i looooved their commentary too. i very very rarely dabble in public humiliation, and it's got to be sooo specific for it to work for me, but i love it in that fic)

5 - they both 100000% get off on being involved. if they didn't, they'd step back a bit. price is always gonna get off on being in control (and im a big fan of some light priceghost... maybe price taught ghost how to control a wild boy, and he enjoys watching his student grow into a master) and i think gaz is probably kinda into puppy play himself lmao, he's just there to get hard and have fun

i think if soap went to price for help, he'd get his mouth fucked, his ass whipped with a belt, and get locked in his cage until ghost got back. but im really not sure about gaz....

part of me says gaz is a sweetheart, he'd help soap. i could see him taking soap to price for help, and then the above following (right after price "explains" what soap needs to gaz, does a little manipulation and gaslighting of his own)

thanks for your questions! hope my answers are satisfactory lol

[autisticrosewilson]

In Trouble

Um. This is a joke that's not a joke that spawned from a conversation with @perseus-jackass about Nurse! Jason and Red X! Grant, that spiraled into a Miraculous Ladybug style love square situation lmao. OG's will remember when this was an ML blog, you could say I'm going back to my roots. Also this story is omegaverse! It's not really mentioned till Jason's pov but I don't want to blindside anyone

"Scream if you have to." Robin says gently, before wrenching his shoulder back into place. Grant does scream, he jerks and writhes but gloved hands hold him in place while his bones shift under the skin. There's a white hot pain that spreads through his arm, an aching relief as everything is realigned, and then everything goes prickly and numb.

Grant lays there panting, staring up at the smoggy night sky. Gotham doesn't even give him the courtesy of stars after subjecting them all to her madness. Robin had at least been kind enough to lay down his cape before his impromptu field med session, but goosebumps are spreading up his arms the longer his bare torso is in contact with the New Jersey air. At least Robin had helped him remove his shirt instead of cutting it off, as he'd threatened to.

"Good job," Robin praises, "you took that so well!" He grins, a certified Robin smile. Suddenly, Grant knows where all the stars went.

"Uh, thanks." Grant says absently, eyes tracing over the glint of too-sharp canines peaking out from cracked lips. Robin's a lip biter, he notes, the flesh has been scraped off. They'd probably bleed with little to no effort.

Grant wants to try, wants to taste it.

Slade clears his throat, and Grant remembers that his family is in the room, among several other hostages, and about twelve previously armed men who are now very unconscious. Robin himself has moved onto taking stock of everyone in the room, likely doing a head count and checking for any other injuries, but he signals for Slade to wait. He tilts his head slightly, finger coming to rest on the communicator in his ear.

"Okay folks, police are en route and the parameter has been cleared. I'm going to lead you all to the nearest exit, keep your head low and try not to make any noise. Listen carefully and stay behind me." Robin pops out of his crouch, helping Grant up as he gives the group orders.

"Look, kid-" Slade starts, and is promptly cut off by multiple snorts from the other hostages. The Gothamites, Grant realizes when he notices how calm they are. The collective reaction seems to throw his father off for a moment, but he continues. Grant feels a flash of second hand embarrassment. "Shouldn't you let the professionals take care of this?"

Robin smiles placatingly, it's got customer service written all over it. "I understand this is an upsetting situation, especially for a tourist, but we have everything handled." He assures.

Slade goes to say something else but Robin doesn't spare him a second glance, pulling out a handful of zip ties from one of the pouches of his belt. He gets to work ridding the men of weapons before tying their hands behind their backs, and then looping more zip ties through those to fix them all firmly together. None of them would be going anywhere anytime soon. He kicks all their guns to a far off corner anyway for good measure, but pockets a hunting knife one of them had been carrying.

"Secured," Robin chirps to whoever is on the other side of his comm, "Where to next?" He rolls his shoulders, resting his hands on his hips. After a moment Robin nods to himself. "Got it, meet you outside."

Grant watches as he heads towards the door, most of the hostages easily following his orders, they stay close together and seem to default to herding the omegas and pups in the middle. He almost gets swept up in it, shielded by the crowd, but then Slade's big hand is on his back bringing him and Joey to the front of the group just behind Robin.

He's shorter than he seemed earlier, when he was looming above Grant, backlit by flashing red lights like a blood soaked angel. He's slimmer without the cape wrapped around him, but with his gaze stuck to the muscle flexing in Robin's thighs he can tell the dark haired boy is stronger than he looks.

Robin leads the way, crouched low and keeping to the wall. The crowd does the same, unusually calm as they gently shush the children and tourists who aren't quiet enough. The implicit trust is breathtaking, the easy way that Robin commands the crowd with a cocksure smile and easy confidence. They only run into trouble once on the way to the exit and Grant barely has time to flinch before him and Joey are both shoved behind dad. Grant strains to see how Robin reacts to the two guards rushing at them but all he can make out is a flurry of movement and flailing limbs. There's the cracking of bone and then Robin's ringing laughter and then the hallway is still and quiet again. Slade's grip on his shoulder is still tight, Joey still pressed to Slades back. Grant nudges forward in time to see Robin securing the unconscious bodies.

He turns back to the crowd, hair a little messy and cheeks a little red but hardly even out of breath, and motions for them to keep going. They do, the group easily parting around the crooks before clustering back together. Like fish, Grant thinks, absently reminded of a trip to the aquarium not long ago.

They all file out in a straight line when they reach the exit, Robin holding the door open and checking behind for any stragglers before breaking away from the group to stand beside Batman. He looks even smaller next to the imposing figure of the Bat, but the cops seem to take his orders seriously.

Grant is pulled away by Slade and he barely realizes where they're going until he hears his mom's voice. She pulls him into a hug, all warm tobacco and vanilla but it almost doesn't register. She pulls Joey in next, peppering his face with kisses and surely staining it with her dark lipstick in the process. Her and Slade are talking about something over his head, but everything sounds like it's underwater. His attention is pulled back to Robin, sitting with some of the younger pups who are having their statements taken, someone's chubby toddler being bounced on his knee. He assumes the man in the nearby ambulance is the child's mother if his intent gaze and round belly are anything to go by.

Without thinking he clutches the fabric around his shoulders tighter. It's heavier than it looks, soft but tough. The outside is plastic-y, like a raincoat, but the inside is silky fabric slips pleasantly over his skin. He feels a tug on it from behind him, tuning back into the immediate conversation.

"Now what is this?" His mother frets.

His mouth opens but he doesn't say anything at first. "Robin gave it to me." He manages, the first thing he's said all night. He clutches the cape tighter, unwilling to let it go. It's a comforting weight, it feels like all that's keeping him on the ground, like if he lets go he'll simply float away.

His mother reaches for his face, tilting towards her. Her eyes are sharp but not angry, studying his expression and the look in his eyes carefully. Whatever she sees makes him purse her lips and glance towards the ambulance. "Oh my baby, you're in shock." She tells him, but the meaning behind the words doesn't register.

"First time getting his shoulder reset, he'll be fine." Slades voice, an attempt to be reassuring. Grant tenses before the words fully compute.

"WHAT!" His mom's voice is loud and shrill enough to make his ears ring and he knows they're going to start a fight.

He's shaking, he realizes, gaze dropping down to the trembling of his good hand where it's resting on her elbow. He doesn't remember moving it. Her skin is warm under his hands, he can feel the way her muscles are tensing as the voices around him raise.

He turns back to Robin, but the boy is already staring at him. At least Grant thinks so, hard to tell where he's looking with the white lenses, but he's facing Grant's direction. His lips are twisted, displeasure or concern maybe, and Grant wants to soothe him but he doesn't know how. Then his head tilts, just slightly, and Grant realizes that Robin had been looking at his parents. He can feel Robin's attention on him fully now, settling over him like sunlight. It's warm and grounding and he can feel his body again. Robin smiles, small and proud and encouraging. A secret just for Grant, to keep and cherish and own. And then Robin is turning, attention maddeningly taken by the others that Grant has just remembered. He feels cold, the kind of cold you feel in the early morning when you've just slipped from your warm blankets, the kind that settles on your skin and then sinks into your bones.

Grant's eyes don't leave Robin until the car pulls away, and as he's craning his neck to catch one last glimpse he sees Robin standing on his tip toes to wave Grant goodbye. He waves back, but the windows are tinted and they're already too far away.

Jason has a secret, and an embarrassing one at that. He knows if anyone ever found out he'd never be able to live it down. Jason doesn't even know how it started really, it's not like he's ever been interested in the latest trends or celebrity gossip.

Jason will blame Rena, because it's easier than analyzing the alternative. Technically it started with a routine hostage situation, but for deflection purposes, it starts with a link to an app that's trying too hard to be Vine. He'd squinted at it, toothbrush still in his mouth, half convinced it was a rickroll.

Jay: Why are you up?

Ren: Why are YOU up?

Jay: I asked you first.

Ren: I messaged you first

Jay: Not how that works.

He had rolled his eyes at the time, finishing up his nightly routine, reluctantly chewing on the multivitamins he's supposed to take every night before bed. The gummies only, never the pills.

Ren: did you watch the video

Jay: I'm not clicking an unknown link, Rena.

Ren: wow full name

Jay is typing...

Ren: Not an excuse for you to use my real full name

Ren: seriously watch the video!!

Jason remembers huffing, he probably put it off till the last second, until he was curled up in bed and on the cusp of finally getting some rest. It's all secondary to the video though, the familiar face split into a wolfish grin, those pretty eyes catching the flash of cameras and sending a wink towards the viewer. It's obviously some kind of rich person event, paparazzi lined up and a carpet laid out on the damn ground, but you wouldn't know it from how the boy is dressed. The orange and blue jacket over the button up would probably make him snort usually, but all he can think about is broad shoulders and warm skin under his hands. Unwarded he remembers what Grant's bare chest looked like, and then the image of strong shoulders wrapped in Jason's cape. He doesn't know how many times he watches the video before the next message comes through.

Ren: isn't he hot?

Jay: Who is he?

Jason already knows of course, but Rena doesn't know that, and he's not keen on informing her. She might start getting ideas.

Ren: Grant Kane, he's some old money CEOs son from New York or something

Jay: And?

Kentucky, Jason corrects mentally, Adeline Kane is from New York but the Wilson family lives in Kentucky.

Ren: I heard his mom is coming to your charity gala next week

Jason's heart skips a beat, teeth sinking into his lip to bite back the giddy grin trying to break through.

Jay: Once again, and?

Ren: And? C'mon when do we get to see new faces at these things? Especially ones as pretty as his!

Jealousy twinges in his chest, churning hotly in his stomach for a moment before he's hit with a flash of guilt.

Jay: oh? You interested

Ren: Pft nah

Ren: this is for you

Ren: my ducks are in a row

Jay: Hurtful, but whatever. I don't even know him. Maybe I don't want that duck in my row.

Ren: Start being real with yourself rn

Ren: I'm coming over tomorrow so we can decide on what you're wearing<333

Usually he matches with Bruce, or Dick if he shows up. He can only imagine what Rena is going to try to talk him into. Technically, Jason is unpresented, even though everyone else his age has already. Most pups present around thirteen, Jason is turning sixteen soon. Leslie says it'll be any day now, that with time, and love, and a steady three meals a day Jason will come into his own in no time. Jason isn't so sure.

Rena herself is a beta, but she's always been a bit of a rule breaker. More so than Jason anyway. She always goes above and beyond with her outfits for these things, with the kind of passion obviously bred from living with the biggest fashion mogul in Gotham. He can only imagine what her plans to play matchmaker are going to entail.

Ren: I've enlisted Eddie to help me

Jason stops, fingers hovering over the keyboard, jaw slack. The indignity! He doesn't need a- an intervention to help him get a date!

Jay: When did you guys even start talking?

Ren: YOU gave me his number

Jay: That was a courtesy! You weren't actually supposed to use it!

Ren: 😜

Jason scowls at his phone. He switches over to his chat with Eddie, certain the omega is still awake watching a terrible obscure movie he's going to tell Jason all about when they see each other again.

Jaybin: I've been betrayed, forsaken, abandoned.

KD: Ok edgelord lmao

Jaybin: STOP laughing I've been the victim of a conspiracy!

KD: Are people on Twitter calling you guys vampires again or do they have something more interesting?

Jaybin: Not that kind of conspiracy.

KD: ???

There's a pause as Eddie stops typing, Jason assumes to go Google it, before his speech bubble pops up again.

KD: Is this about me and Rena wingmanning for you

Jaybin: SO YOU ADMIT TO IT! FIEND! SCOUNDREL!

KD: Weird way to say thank you but okay

Jaybin: I don't need help.

KD: ok well we would LIKE to help

KD: please let us

Jason purses his lips. He hates when Eddie does this. Like he's the one being difficult here. Sometimes he feels like everyone treats him even younger than he is. Just because he hasn't presented doesn't mean he's a baby. He can't wait to be sixteen, hopefully by then he'll know his designation too.

Jaybin: Fine, but I retain full rights to veto anything you pick or any plan you make.

Eddie's response is a gif of a cat doing a happy dance, and though he rolls his eyes he likes the message. He's added to a new chat immediately, one with the three of them in it. Rena sends the video to this new chat, apparently named Operation: HONEYPOT. Jason finds quickly that his lack of admin rights means he can't change it.

He huffs, watching the two messages back and forth. Sending photos he's already seen and telling him information he already knows about Grant. The screen slowly goes dark as his eyes flutter closed, burying his face in the milky hazelnut scent just barely managing to cling to the shirt he's been using as a pillowcase, the MCTC logo pressed against his cheek.

It's a guilty pleasure, he supposes, Grant's smell in his nose as he imagines what his voice sounds like, of Grant pressing into his touch instead of flinching away. He switches to an app easily passing as a calculator, inputting the password without thought to pull up the tracking grid.

He skims over everyone else's - Bruce and Alfred are in the manor, Natalia is in her manor on the boundary of Little Italy and Summerset, Dick's phone is at least in his BludHaven apartment, Barbie is still staying at her dad's house until she gets used to her wheelchair - the one he's looking for is marked with the Robin symbol, blinking steadily, somewhere in Kentucky. The sky is probably clear for him, a star filled sky unobstructed by the pollution of the city. He imagines Grant staring out at the sky, red lip caught between his teeth, thinking about Jason. What he might be doing as he does.

Jason nods off, eyes fluttering shut, matching his breath to the gentle pulse on the screen.

[aliensubstance-011]

Hi hello I absolutely adore your band AU!! I was wondering if you have any thoughts on the band's appearances, like clothes/hair dye/etc.? Especially given you've mentioned things past highschool

I rlly rlly want to draw these dorks practising together and want to stay true to your ideas :3

Hello I saw this just before I was going to go to sleep and then laid awake Thinking About It for the next 30 minutes so here I am!

Under the cut because there's a LOT!!

Richie

He layers just as badly as in canon

So in my head it goes:

Long sleeved stripey T-shirt

then a graphic short tee on top (which eventually becomes a band T-shirt nearer then end of senior year when Steph joins the band! (And when I design the logo lmao))

THEN a zip up hoode

I'm not done

Then a leather jacket he found at a garage sale (it's slightly too big for him normally so it fits over everything else.)

Ripped jeans + belt chains

He has one of those goth belts with all the metal eyelets in it

Boots!! He has loads of different coloured laces he wears each day!!

And ofc he has his blue hair

He has his ears pierced too- he has these skeleton studs and they're all he wears.

Oh and the green and black bracelet Max eventually makes when he becomes the band's friend. It's tied onto his belt loops every morning.

Peter

Pretty similar to canon in my head

He takes off his suspenders and bowtie when they practice though (he feels safe then)

His hair is longer! He wears it in a man bun because it made him feel more masc before he came out to everyone (in middle school)

When he felt more comfortable (and after he came out) he decided to keep his hair long and the man bun just kind of stuck

He gets an undercut maybe? I can't decide in whether that's good or not.

He had LOADS of ear piercings (industrial, tragus, three on each lobe, conch, helix) but he's too scared to get facial ones somehow

He wears dangly earrings in his main lobe piercing

After he makes friends with Steph and stops wearing his suspenders+bowtie altogether he unbuttons and untucks his shirt during practice.

(Steph almost passes out the first time he does this. She can see his collar bones. Victorian woman seeing ankle for the first time core)

Richie clips a short chain onto his belt loops "So we match!"

His yellow and orange bracelet becomes his hairband- you can't usually see it unless you're looking for it/it's in a ponytail

Ruth

Ruth was actually so so difficult for me to decide

Her normal style just goes so hard yknow?

I think she starts wearing Docs like Richie

But she just has rainbow laces and that's it she doesn't change them

She gets a leather jacket too and paints the band logo on (badly)

The band tee she'll wear but it'll be over-sized and half tucked in

Logo front and back babey!!

I don't know what else for Ruth so if you have any ideas please feel free to use them

Her blue and white bracelet is just on her wrist like a normal person lmao

Steph

Nose piercing Nose piercing!! She has a little ring

Her style is already SO SO good for the band AU!!!

She has fingerless leather gloves

She also has tattoos methinks

The beginnings of a rose + thorns sleeve on her left arm

And a shitty stick and poke star on her right wrist (over her veins) she got when she was 16- it's started to fade so she gets other stars tattooed on her wrist around it (one for each band member?)

She's the one who commissions an artist to design the logo, and gets t-shirts made for each of them!!

She, and Ruth both get the logo put on leather jackets. Steph's is proper vintage and is more of a biker jacket though.

She tries to convince Richie and Peter to get ones too, but Richie doesn't want to damage his jacket and Peter refuses to wear one at all (he won't wear the shirt either)

(She catches him using it as a sleep shirt. She teases him about it for weeks)

She cuts her band top into a crop top but she doesn't always wear it.

She dyes the tips of her hair red for while

But it fades into pink weirdly quick

So she dyes it back to her normal ombre

Steph's pink bracelet hangs from a hole made in one of her drumsticks. Her bracelet was made first (Max cried when he saw it)

Max

Max isn't technically part of the band

But he is their #1 fan forever and ever

So he has a shirt too that he wears to all of their (eventual) gigs!! The logo is a bit faded/damaged and washed out because he keeps washing it the wrong way

He has a scar in his eyebrow from when Steph punched him after she first joins the band (this kickstarts his redemption.) (Punchstarts?)

And he has his purple and yellow bracelet around his wrist!

I still haven't figured out how to fit Grace into this AU at all. I do HC that she thinks all music other than Christian Music is Of The Devil™ and she plays the flute but that's about it honestly... One of these days I'll figure something out

[sovonight]

drafting radri's mage dress

i started with a shoulder princess sloper—it actually takes cup size into account, which was a big selling point for me, and the bust fit perfectly with no adjustments! i still had to edit it though ofc, the waist was too low and i took it in a bit

i made a first draft with most of the actual features of the dress, in red flannel because that's what i had lying around lol. i french seamed everything (i wanted to learn how to do sleeves & slits with french seams), but my final fabric is on the heavier side of lightweight so i'll have to stick with regular seam finishes for the real thing

the hemline does lift a little in the front when i belt it bc extra fabric has to go under the bust, and i'll be adjusting the princess seam just a liiittle bit, but i don't wanna take the princess seams fully in towards the underbust or anything because then it wouldn't look right if i didn't have a belt on. and anyway the lift isn't that bad either because this'll be ankle length, so 1) who's really looking down there and 2) if anything it'll help me not step on the front hem

oh and the left and right cuffs are different bc i didn't know if i wanted to stick with the pointed cuff i drew. i knew i'd have to add a little loop to the pointed cuff in real life if i didn't want it to shift around, and didn't really wanna do that so i was prepared to just go with the regular non-pointed cuff, but then the regular cuff kept rotating willy-nilly too and i got annoyed at that, so. pointed cuff with a little loop it is

in the drawing i closed the cuffs with ribbon ties, but in real life i uh. can't imagine being able to tie those cuffs closed alone. so i just put buttons there 🤷 which will be a little annoying if i have my wrists down against a surface, like if i'm typing or something, but i kind of feel like i won't be typing in this garment (if i even wear it at all after i finish it lmao). i did think about migrating the button closure to the outside of the wrist, like suit jacket placement, but i feel like it'd look a little weird on the pointed style cuff 😖 and anyway suit jacket sleeve buttons bother me when i leave my wrist against a surface too lol so it wouldn't be a huge improvement

i used this method to attach the collar and sleeve cuffs, which i like the result of but never like executing. it wasn't as tedious on this muslin since i was lazy and didn't baste or press anything, but on the final i'll have to do everything i skipped 😣

anyway the next step is to tweak the pattern a bit and make it ankle length, then make another muslin in my semi-final fabric (semi-final bc it's the same as my final fabric but just in a different color). i'm actually pleasantly surprised that this hasn't felt like a ton of work yet—probably because it doesn't need a lining lol

[pangtasias-atelier]

Well Deserved Rest And Snacks

I wanted something involving smaller sizes so have this short little drabble on Shan-nan and Oif-ey cause I love em. Was gonna have like angst but then that would've taken over everything so that was scrapped lmao

Warning: This is a fetish story!

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in…

Shannan doesn't bother to so much as even think about a single motion of his sword; the stationary dummy is the perfect recipient of his training. The plain wooden sword that he swings and thrusts with such fervor proves more potent in his hand than even the finest blades in his enemies’. Shannan’s flowing mass of long black hair is tied into a loose ponytail, the thick bundle of hair swishing behind him, following his motions. The noticeable amount of flab also follows Shannan's movement, his newfound breasts jiggling with each swing of his sword while his stomach—now at the onset of an actual gut that just ever so slightly creeps down past where his belt rests on his hips—wobbles after ever resounding thwack that sounds out each time his sword strikes the dummy. Shannan pays no attention to his larger, heftier size, nor does he tire himself out despite the extra weight he sports. He simply continues to take deep breaths as he trains and works out.

“Hmph, I guess you're just as focused as ever,” Oifey announces his presence, entering the extremely private training room meant solely for Isaach’s king—for those lucky enough to inherit the blood of Od.

Shannan continues his practice for a little while longer, easing himself down from more involved movement into much less intensive swings that only involve his flabby biceps before stopping all together. “I noticed you when you first stepped in. I simply needed to continue my practice,” 

Despite finishing his training, Shannan still refuses to turn around and greet Oifey; even with him being well aware of Oifey’s visit well in advance. His face shows a faint trace of red. Not from exhaustion, but from his dismay at being seen at his plumper size. Shannan's clothes still fit him; the stretchable material of his underclothes able to cover up his body in return for showing off his extra girth, the light lilac of his draped robe snug as well but not as tight. His 350 pound body has an hourglass shape to it. Shannan's thighs are outlined by the elastic pants, the curvature of squished, blubbery upper rolls of his legs that overhang visible. The same is true for his even more shapely and filled out bubble butt from the extra poundage. The fabric of his robe drapes over it to show off some of its width despite being covered up. The small strip of fabric of his robe that drapes in between his legs seems smaller with his extra weight, the clothing lightly caught in-between his thighs. Shannan's little belly presses against his as loose as possible belt—the thick belt nowhere near as large looking with the way it strains against his new gut. Shannan's chest is far plumper than it used to be. His broad, defined pecs that strained his outfit before still do the exact same as a hefty pair of breasts. In fact, they do an even better job of it as they splay out to strain the stark black material and splay over the gold inner trim of his robes. Shannan's arms not as affected as the rest of his figure, the bulkier, flabbier arms still need the straps of leather on his arms to be loosened a tad bit more to accommodate the extra heft on them. 

“But to train when I'm visiting?” says Oifey, reaching an arm around Shannan's shoulder. “You are dedicated, but even you know when to relax,” Oifey's other arm is looped around Shannan's torso. He cups Shannan's belly with his hand, rubbing the bundle of flesh flab with his thumb. 

“I’ve been relaxing too much,” But Shannan remains in Oifey's embrace. His arms are crossed, his arms squishing into his plump chest. 

Oifey chuckles, throaty laughter escaping without a second thought. “Then I've also been relaxing rather well lately,” Oifey only sports a small additional 20 pounds on his still built frame unlike Shannan's extra hundred and some pounds. The extra weight gives Oifey the slightest bit of softness around him, his abs now sporting a hint of a pooch. “Especially when I'm not as busy as a certain king,”

Shannan grumbles, head leaning forward tilting back to rest in the crook of Oifey's neck. “You rule over Chalphy now. And regardless, you deserve it,” 

“And so do you,” Oifey counters. His hand lets go of Shannan's belly roll, instead going to rub his stomach. “I didn’t cross the Aed Desert to not give you your gift,” 

Shannan unwraps the carefully preserved basket of gifts to reveal a handful of different types of bread. Some warmth is still preserved in the variety of treats, the sugary and sweet breads wrapped in their own clothes to keep them warm. Inside the basket as well are a few jars of preserves, the more climate fruits not available to Issach’s colder, harsher climate in the North East.  “This can’t all be from Chalphy, much less anywhere in Grannvale,” Shannan grabs one of the treats, the muffin far from the hard texture he expected it to be from such a long distance of travel. The dense yet just airy enough mouthful of buttery bread goes down easily in Shannan’s mouth; he only stops himself from going for a second bite with Oifey expectantly staring at him. 

“I went to Tirnanog. A few bakeries picked up on Grannvalian bread after how long we stayed there. And you always enjoyed the bread back then,”

“Perhaps I did,” Shannan holds back both his flush and his glare. “Isaachian bread is too airy for my preferences,” he says as he bites another mouthful of bread, crumbs dusting his lips before Oifey wipes at them. Shannan ignores the glance Oifey gives his portly stomach that he now refuses to suck in, his belly pushing against the strip of lilac fabric that barely covers his doughy stomach.

Oifey leans down despite the minimal few inches of height between them, whispering in Shannan’s ear with one hand on his shoulder. “And perhaps I enjoyed watching you eat them,” Oifey places a kiss on Shannan’s cheek just like the two once did so many years ago. 

“I actually prefer seeing you enjoy such treats,” he whispers as he plops a chunk of bread into Oifey’s mouth, only a speckle of crumbs landing in his mustache. “So then perhaps we can do this in a more private location,” Shannan leads Oifey back to his private chambers, the respectively fat and pudgy men walking hand in hand.

It takes minimal time for them to head back to Shannan's room, the door locked behind them and the basket of bread on his table.

It takes even less time for Shannan's hands to quickly find their way onto Oifey's clothes. In turn, the thinner man's clothing find their way on the floor, the fabric tossed aside. “Perfect,” Shannan gazes at Oifey's near naked state, his once sculpted abs now faded out from a slight bit of adipose from the years of leisure after fighting for so long. Body hair adorns Oifey's small bit of belly flab, the forest of hair most noticeable by the trail of it leading from his navel to his groin, and his ever so softened up chest is also covered in dark brown hair. His tight underclothes is all Oifey has to cover himself up. His drawers are snug all around, but Oifey's slightly widened thighs aren't too unbearably tight beyond showing off his bit of heft and curves.

Shannan's hands roam across Oifey's body, one hand caressing his slightly softened bicep while the other gropes his rear. It doesn't take long for Shannan to try and push Oifey down onto the lounge, except he's met with some resistance, Oifey's hands testing and feeling Shannan's added heft.

“It's only fair I return the favor,” Oifey whispers to the defiant Shannan who struggles against Oifey's insistence on disrobing him as well. Shannan's robe comes off easily enough, the plump swordmaster’s figure shown off close to its entirety by how much his black skin tight clothes show off every single extra pound he now sports on his 350 pound body, Shannan's gut lurching out forward. Oifey grabs a hold of it, his fingers holding the underside of his gut with his thumb rubbing the top of it. “There's no need to be embarrassed, we've both seen each other in more compromising situations,”

“Fine then,” he says curtly with a glare. Shannan pushes Oifey down onto the couch, smirking down at his seated frame while Oifey continues to work on removing his snug underclothes. As he cooperates by lifting up his arms—Shannan showing off his belly with only a minimal amount of body hair for a happy trail dusting it—Oifey takes a moment to pause and grope Shannan's gut, his hands fondling and lightly smacking his fat before fully removing his shirt.

“See how much better this is?” Oifey grins as he looks up at the shirtless Shannan who's now only clothed by sheer black leggings.

Shannan rolls his eyes but relents upon seeing Oifey's enjoyment. “I know what will make this even better,” He joins Oifey on the couch. Except he uses Oifey's lap as his own chair, resting all of his weight on his thighs. Reaching over to the side—one hand using Oifey's shoulders to steady himself while Oifey steadies him by keeping his hands on Shannan's plump torso—and grabbing another pastry just to cram in Oifey's mouth, the delicacy filled with a strawberry filling.

The slightly older man allows it, slowly chewing through the large treat. His cheeks are stuffed full from the food alone, his face comparable to a squirrel’s. He gives Shannan a sly grin before he reciprocates the action and shoves a cloyingly sweet pastry into Shannan's mouth, his other hand pinching and caressing Shannan's breasts.

Oifey has his arms lifted up, allowing Shannan to explore his body. The groping and caressing doesn't help him from keeping his squirms and moans to a minimum. Shannan's ass on his dick certainly also doesn't help, Shannan's larger, flabbier ass definitely putting a large, hefty weight on his chubbing up tool.

“I'm glad to see that I'm not the only one enjoying this,” Shannan leans into Oifey, pressing his gut into Oifey's bit of belly pudge. And the instant Oifey finishes his treat, he hands him another one—handing it to him by forcefully kissing him, nails practically digging into his skin, and shoving a pastry into his mouth right after.

And for Oifey's part, he reciprocates the motion by feeding Shannan the instant the heftier man even thinks about speaking, his left hand permanently focused on tending to Shannan's ass with it snaking underneath his tight leggings, the two men enjoying their shared rest in each other's company.

[narcolini]

the first drop

juice ortiz & oc: ava gomez x oc: sebastian, 1970 words

warnings for depictions of kidnapped hostages

for day 20 of whumpril: sensory deprivation | ‘where am i?’

a/n: ive officially gone mad with power, because now im doing SOA crossover prequels with the in his shadow babes.. i can’t even explain myself. i just needed to see ava being kind to juice LMAO

tagging: @drabbles-mc @cositapreciosa @hausofmamadas​ 

She was younger then. Young enough to act with her heart and nothing else, which could’ve ended worse than it did. Would have, even, if Sebastian wasn’t the way he was. The club came first, sure, but only after Ava.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he said, hands on her hips. He was sitting on a stool by the bar, half his usual height, but eye level with her, standing in the spread of his knees. He sighed, thumbs toying with her belt loops. ‘But.’

She smiled, echoing him, ‘But.’ He could never send her away—unless she was in actual danger, then he kept her far enough that she wouldn’t know about it, until it was done already. ‘No-one will know,’ she reassured him, stroking a hand through his hair. He’d just started to grow it long, past his ears, a style that he kept right until the end. ‘They’ll call when it’s time to move them, right?’

He nodded.

‘Then I’ll be gone before anyone even knows.’

‘You got it all worked out, huh?’ A kiss, stolen from her lips, words said smirking into the skin afterwards. ‘You’re more Mayan than I am.’

But she was just visiting, taking the opportunity to kill some time with him, alone in the clubhouse. He was the one on duty, playing guard to the two men tied up in the room behind.

‘Are they important?’ she asked, inclining her head to the back.

He sniffed, shrugging. That was his tell. Not lying, but not spilling secrets either.

‘You won’t tell me?’ she assumed, fiddling with the collar of his shirt. ‘Too dangerous?’

‘Mhmm.’ Another kiss, he was hungry for it. His teeth grazed her bottom lip as he pulled back again. ‘Part of another club,’ he admitted after, sparing what little information he could. ‘Not civilians.’

Because that made all the difference to her then. That made it palatable. They weren’t innocent, but club on club warfare was hardly safe.

‘Sounds risky.’

He smiled, deflecting any worry with the white of his teeth. ‘Risk’s my middle name, chula.’

Her laugh was interrupted by the shrill of his phone, blaring from his chest pocket. He patted her thighs, signalling for her to give him space to stand, then disappeared with it out the front. Another precaution of his: he never took calls that could be incriminating in front of her. Always answered them in another room with an apologetic look, a flash of a tight-lipped smile before he went.

It didn’t bother her. She was there for him, not to eavesdrop. She was about to leave, she was, assuming the call was the signal that the rest were coming back—but then she heard it. Movement from the room Sebastian had told her to steer clear of.

It wasn’t loud, or noticeably human really. It sounded like dogs against a door, scratching and scratching, nails to the wood. There were no dogs, of course, just two men. But the repetition was the same. The desperation was the same. She had never been good at ignoring that, heart over head.

Just a minute. Just while he was on the phone.

She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge behind the bar and went, hot-footing before she could be stopped, before she had time to think better of it herself. Because she would’ve, right? She would’ve recognised the recklessness of it eventually.

The door wasn’t even locked when she got to it, just pulled shut and left like any other day. When she slipped through, she half expected to find them both pressed against the other side of it, but they weren’t, because no one had been pawing at it the way dogs do.

It was a bedroom, one of the spare dorms for members to crash in. Curtains drawn, dark, stale like it hadn’t been aired out in a while. It smelt like damp, or sweat. Some chemical she didn’t recognise.

They were tied to the bed frame opposite, sat on the floor with their arms behind their backs. Hoods over their heads, legs forced to sit crossed, knees straining against two pairs of jeans. The one on the left was slumped still, bagged-head facing down toward his lap, body leaning forward from the anchor of his tied hands.

The other was the source of the noise. He was awake, she could see the rise and fall of his chest from where she stood, elevated by his panic. The scratching had been the sound of zip-ties, rubbed up and down on the frame behind him frantically, relentlessly. Like the rounded metal would ever bore through the plastic of them.

It would only take a minute. She didn’t even have to remove his hood.

‘Careful,’ she said, quiet but enough of a surprise to make him jump still, his back hitting the end of the bed with a rattle. ‘You’ll do more damage to your wrists than the ties.’

She was in front of him now, on one knee. The second time she spoke, he had stilled, chest heaving, but panic easing. Her voice was registering with him then, proving to be less of a threat. She was a woman. It made a difference. He didn’t flinch when he felt her shoe against his own, or her fingers around the hemline of the hood.

‘Where am I?’ he asked, stuttering at first.

‘I can’t tell you that.’ She folded it up a couple inches, over his chin, until it stayed. Just high enough to leave his mouth free. ‘I brought you some water.’ Her hands were shaking slightly, knowing the time pressure, the risk, but her voice stayed steady.

He swallowed, then took in a breath big enough to make him cough, desperate for the cool, unrestricted air. ‘Jax?’ he asked afterwards, which she could only assume was the name of the man beside him.

He hadn’t moved still.

‘He must’ve had a bigger dose of whatever they gave you.’ She leant across and put her hand under the other hood to press two fingers to his throat. There was pulse, slow but regular. ‘He’s fine,’ she told him, ‘just asleep.’

The first man nodded, his cover slipping back over this lip slightly. They didn’t have time for conversation. She shouldn’t be telling him anything at all, had probably caused some domino effect she couldn’t even imagine just by opening the door and looking in.  

‘Here.’ She unscrewed the water bottle, holding it up to his mouth. ‘Have some.’

His head must have been spinning, his tongue must’ve been dry enough to make every breath feel like a gag, but he refused it still. Set his lips together when she began to tip the bottle.

‘It’s water,’ she insisted, trying to hide her urgency. To him, rushing would make it sound like whatever she was offering was dangerous, a threat. ‘Look, I’ll have some.’ She pulled the bottle back, taking a large gulp from it. She did it as audibly as possible, because he couldn’t see at all, made sure to slosh the water against the rim, to swallow loud and sigh afterwards. A dumb theatre, but it was all she could think to do.

‘The fuck is this?’ he breathed, voice pinching. He was beginning to panic again, wrists tugging against the bars behind. Zip-ties scratching. ‘Where the fuck am I?’

‘Shh, shh.’ It was infectious, his panic. She shouldn’t be in here. Sebastian was only taking a call. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked, spouting the first thing that came to mind. ‘I’m Ava.’

He stopped wriggling. A tear ran down his cheek, from the eyes beneath the black cloth.

‘I’m not even supposed to be in here,’ she confessed. She definitely wasn’t supposed to have given him her name, either. The reality of that was beginning to set in. ‘So, I help you, and you help me, by forgetting I was ever here, okay?’

There was a fraction of movement, a half-committed nod. ‘Juice.’ He panted, swallowed back the dryness of his voice. ‘I’m Juice.’

‘Okay, Juice.’ She put the bottle to his mouth again, tilting it with him as he put his head back. ‘Sorry.’ Some spilled from the lip, wet down his chin, not that it mattered. It obviously didn’t matter. He was drinking like he hadn’t in days.

Had it been days? She didn’t even know how long they’d been in there.

When he pulled away, she did too, re-capping the bottle. She couldn’t leave it there, he didn’t have the hands free to use it.

‘Thank-you.’ He was breathing slower then, and not bothering to lick the water from his lips, but instead enjoying the relief of it. Just for a little longer.

She sat back onto the heels of her shoes. You’re welcome felt inappropriate. She was part of the crime now. She could have easily cut him free if she wanted to, could have let him slip out the back with Jax over his shoulder, and claimed she had nothing to do with it. But her heart only went so far. She was scared too.

‘I should—’

The door swung open behind her, wood hitting the closet beside loud enough to make them both jump. She was on her feet, water bottle scattering away from her, before he had even said anything—it could only have ever been Sebastian. There was no-one else around and conscious.

‘Sorry,’ she said, apologising already.

He was speaking over her, sharp brows tugged together, his face livid. It wasn’t anger, really, but fear, disbelief.  ‘The fuck, A…?’ He stopped himself, stealing her name back defensively, as if she hadn’t already given it to Juice on her own accord. ‘No puedes estar aquí.’ He was panting, head shaking. Tongue slipping into spanish for the sake of secrecy.

‘I was just giving him water.’ She couldn’t offer anything but English herself, her brain had frozen in the panic of getting caught. ‘That’s all.’

‘Water?’ He crossed the room in a step, hand reaching for the folded hood. ‘No es una casita, nena.’ He tugged it down roughly, hiding Juice’s mouth and chin again, before turning back to her. ‘No sabes que lo peligroso es esto? Si algún chingamadre…’

She followed his meaning well enough. If it got back to the rest of the club, or worse, the Sons themselves. If anyone connected her, to this, to them. ‘He didn’t see my face,’ she rushed, head shaking.

Juice was sitting statue-like, obviously awake but doing his best to act otherwise. He could’ve said something. He could’ve used her name in his favour, and made a threat, scared Sebastian into making a deal for their release. But he said nothing. Just sat there listening, shoulders rising and falling with each cutting breath.

‘Oyó tu voz,’ Sebastian insisted, grinding it through his teeth. He took her by the arm then, pulling her with him, back across the room and through the doorway. ‘Fuck, Ava,’ he muttered, shutting the door behind him. ‘You know how much shit I’d be in if the guys knew about this?’

But it was just water. And they made a deal, right? Juice would forget she was even there.

She paled regardless. ‘You won’t tell them, will you?’

He sighed, staring at the wood for a moment before replying. ‘You need to go,’ he said, ‘they’re on their way back.’

He wasn’t looking at her, but when he did, glancing up before he could step away, he saw the doubt printed across her features. The worry that she’d gone too far this time; that she’d tripped up and he wouldn’t catch her.

‘Of course I won’t,’ he added, frowning. ‘Why would I?’

Because she came first, she always came first.

[calpicowater]

Day 102/365: April 12th 2017 | Last Day of School + PositiviDAY

BEFORE WE START LET’S APPRECIATE TODAY’S SUPER CUTE BACKGROUNDS

Today was so fun! Woke up at the ungodly hour of 8:40 with about 6.5 hours of sleep. Got ready and headed to the Quad to set up for PositiviDay. Started off by carrying 10 chairs from CAB to Quad and I hit the back of my leg really hard so I’m expecting another bruise (RIP MY LEGS). After gathering chairs, we began making balloons and honestly I only one made balloon and helped Jing tie off her balloon before people started to arrive so I had to guard the bouncy castle/obstacle course HAHAAHA. Sam came really early so we didn’t take a photo together but I’m glad she had fun at the obstacle course and the rest of the event!! Anyway, I did photobooth with Erica for the first hour and it was so fun LMAO!! We literally just scream at each other 80% of the time lmao we’re both so loud???? It’s great. Charmy and Raymond came to visit too woot woot~ we took some weird photobooth pics together HAHA. I wanted to take normal photos too but Raymond kept cutting off our legs AHAHAHAHA *insert Charmy yelling “U HAD ONE JOB”*. It was really cool to talk to strangers and take photobooth pictures for them!! AHAHAHA one person saw me and told me that my eyeshadow looked really nice!!! I was so happy :’) They were wearing pink/red eyeshadow too LOLOL pink/red eyeshadow twins~ >:D

After the first hour, I had to do table for the bouncy castle so I basically just told everyone to sign the waiver forms before they went inside. I was lonely so I made Alex sit with me even though he was supposed to be “roaming” LMAO!! Kristin and Vivian both came by during this time as well and made my day n_n !! After the second hour ended, I went back to the photobooth station (LJHDSF me: is totally meant for the photographer life tbvh) but during this hour, the weather turned SUPER COLD because the sun was being blocked by clouds and the wind was SO strong and cold. Everyone kept going into group huddles because WE WERE SO COLD!!!!! At one point, I was literally praying at the sun to come out with Rigel hfkjsdgkjg it was so ridiculous wtf AHAHHA !! Eventually, I went inside CAB to warm up and Erica gave me half of her Vietnamese sandwich (THANK YOU!!!!!!) and I ate that while chatting with Erica and JoAnn ^_^. We went back out and ate cupcakes + cookies (with our name on it)! Then, I went on the obstacle course with Erica and both of us failed so bad like LMFAO we were both so slow???? And I was supposed to let Erica win but I ended up sort of winning??? LMFAO anyway we both got STUCK at one point, it was so ridiculous because JoAnn literally had to go in to save Erica because I couldn’t do it JHSJFHJFSJF RIP!!!!! We’re so ridiculous omgsjdkahg we were just screaming and laughing in there for like a solid 6 minutes LOL what is life....

When it was time for the group photo, I gave my camera to the person who was taking the photo but they didn’t take it with my camera :-( they did apologize so it’s totally fine but I’m still disappointed LOL just a little... Oh well~ After the photo, I went to class for like 15-20 minutes because I was 17 minutes late hkjsahgksg my clinical psych prof still made me laugh for the last time... this school year was awesome because she has consistently provided every single MWF with humour that I’d never thought that I needed! It was lovely to have her as my prof for two different classes. I’ll miss her jokes so much (and apparently VICKY will miss her too LOL)!

After school, I went home and rested for ~2 hours before heading to Nofrills for my last grocery shopping trip of the school year. I came back home, rested for around one hour before cleaning the entire apartment with my roommates. I was in charge of the kitchen with Alice and we were scrubbing the stove for a solid 20 minutes. Took out a SHIT TON of garbage with Jane + Alice and called it a day. THE APARTMENT IS SO EXTREMELY CLEAN NOW!!! What a crazy, fun and productive day --- but it was good ^_^ I was really happy!!!! (Even interacting with my roommates wasn’t painful ;;)

Only 2 more weeks until I am officially done with 3rd year. 75% done with uni... wow...

[reidamancy]

skinny tie || spencer reid

summary: It’s Spencer’s first day back at work after your honeymoon and you can’t seem to keep your hands off of him... or his damn tie. (husband!spencer reid x fem!reader)

category: fluff... lots of domestic fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this is my first fluff on here and idk how i feel about it lmao. i honestly think i’m better at writing angst but i literally think about spencer’s ties all the time, so i put it into writing! lmk what you think!

MASTERLIST

The blaring of the alarm clock awakened both you and Spencer from your deep sleep. You groaned and wrapped the blanket around you tighter as he went to turn off the alarm and turn on a nearby lamp. 

“Why do you have to work so early?” You groaned. 

He returned to his spot on the bed and you took the opportunity to roll over and curl up next to him. He chuckled as he wrapped an arm around you and placed a kiss on your temple. “What? You don’t miss waking up at 6 every morning?”

You narrowed your eyes at him before rolling them. He laughed and placed another kiss on your forehead, which caused a smile to form on your face as well. You placed a hand on his chest and leaned towards his face. “Mm, well you better get ready. Don’t want to be late on your first day back.” You cooed into his ear.

Spencer visibly swallowed. You giggled at the effect you had on him and laid back on your pillow so he could get up. Spencer rubbed his eyes and yawned before quickly getting out of the bed and into the shower. 

You dozed into a light slumber while he showered, the soft noise of the water lulling you to back to sleep. You hadn’t even realized you were sleeping until the clinging sounds of Spencer’s clothes hangers awakened you. You sighed in content and finally got up from the bed. “Good morning again, sleeping beauty.” He teased.

You laughed while you rubbed your eyes. “I don’t have to work for a few more hours, I think I deserve some extra sleep.” You quickly stretched and made your way over to your husband.

Spencer continued to get dressed until you were standing right in front of him. You took a moment to admire his half-dressed state. His unbuttoned dress shirt hung loosely around his shoulders, exposing his chest. Spencer smirked as he watched your eyes rake down his body, admiring the view. His slacks clung to his hips, dangerously low, and you noticed his belt draped on the back of a nearby chair. You bit your lip as your gaze went lower and lower until you noticed his socks.

“Spence, your socks don’t match.”

In the low light provided by the lamp Spencer had previously turned on, it was hard to tell what color Spencer’s socks were. But they definitely weren’t the same.

He looked down at his feet and exclaimed, “What? Yes they do!”

You shook your head as you went over to turn on the lights. A soft brightness illuminated the room and revealed a red sock on one of Spencer’s feet and a green sock on the other. Spencer ran a hand through his hair as he chuckled. 

“Oops, oh well.” He shrugged.

You playfully rolled your eyes before walking back over to him. As you were approaching, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach at the simple gesture. You wrapped your arms behind his neck and smiled up into his eyes. Spencer’s lips curled into a smile as he gazed down at you lovingly. 

Laughter rumbled in both of your chests as the two of you both pulled the other in closer. The two of you admired each other, soaking in the moment and getting lost in each other’s eyes.

“I love you, Y/N.” Spencer whispered.

Your arms traveled down from his neck to rub his exposed chest. “I love you too, Spencer.” You placed a kiss on his lips as your fingers ghosted their way down his abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You broke the kiss when you felt Spencer shiver, smirking at his reaction to your touch. Your hands continued their descent until they reached the bottom of his dress shirt. You smiled as you began to button him up.

Your movements were slow and sultry as you worked your way up his shirt, one button at a time. You felt your heart fluttering in your chest as you felt the heat radiating off his body. Spencer’s hands never left your waist, and the sheer proximity of your bodies only contributed to the intimate ambiance. 

When you finished, Spencer began to tuck in his shirt and put on his belt. You stepped back and excitedly asked, “Can I choose your tie?”

He chuckled and nodded. 

You giddily walked over to his closet and sifted through his selection of ties. You settled on one of your favorites, a dark charcoal skinny tie. You practically skipped over to Spencer and draped the tie around his neck. “I’ve always wanted to do this!”

Spencer laughed. “Then why didn’t you just say so?” His hands were on your hips again and you blushed.

“We weren’t married yet.”

Spencer furrowed his brows in confusion and you giggled. “It’s just different now.” You explained with a smile. You brought a finger up to his nose and lightly booped it. His nose scrunched at the action as you both giggled. 

As you went to tie his tie, you encountered a problem. You realized that you actually had no idea how to. You glanced up at Spencer then tried to mask your confusion as you fumbled with the fabric.

“Y/N... do you know how to tie a tie?” Spencer asked, teasingly.

“Shut up, I’m learning.”

You wrapped the tie, made loops with the tie, fed the ends through those loops, but to no avail. You were no where close to tying it properly. Spencer looked down at the mess of knots you made and laughed. 

“Hey, no! This was supposed to be romantic! Let me just-” You stuck your tongue out in concentration as you tried one last method. You pulled on the tie and...

The entire thing fell apart. 

Spencer laughed and you huffed. “Y/N, look.” He took the tie from your hands and slowly tied it as you attentively watched.

“You cross it over, bring this over here, pull it up, then feed it through this loop.” He explained, emphasizing each step. 

“Wait, wait, let me do this part!” You grabbed his tie and pulled, tightening it against his neck and satisfyingly completing his look. “Is that too tight?” You whispered.

Spencer shook his head. “It’s perfect.” He pecked your cheek. 

Your cheeks flushed as you said, “I’ll get it next time!”

Spencer smiled. He pulled you into a bear hug and rested his head in the crook of your neck. He turned towards your ear and lowly whispered, “Mm, I’d much rather you take it off.”

You immediately backed away and lightly slapped his shoulder. “Spencer!” You scolded.

He let out a laugh as you sarcastically shook your head. “You have work, mister.” You pointed a finger chided him. 

“It’s Doctor.” He corrected. 

You beamed at him. You couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed at this point, he was just too cute. 

Spencer smiled back at you before quickly throwing on a jacket and leaving your shared bedroom. You followed him into the living room and grabbed his satchel for him. He went through a mental checklist of everything he needed for work and nodded to himself when he had everything. He reached for his satchel in your hands but you stopped him.

“Wait, you’re forgetting something!”

Spencer looked at you in confusion. Without warning, you grabbed his tie and gently pulled him down into a sweet kiss.

You got on your tip toes to meet him in the middle as your lips collided. Your noses slightly bumped at the unexpected action, but Spencer quickly adjusted. His hands went up to cradle your face, pulling you towards him, while yours stayed on his tie. You tugged a little harder on it, closing any distance between you, and enjoying the leverage you had on him. Your lips moved in sync as you both breathed each other in. He hummed in satisfaction and you slowly pulled away. 

As your eyes fluttered open, you saw each other’s flushed cheeks as you let out heavy breaths. Smiles adorned your faces as you bit your lip.

He pulled you back for a quick peck on the lips then let you go. 

You tried to ignore the buzzing of your lips as you handed him his satchel.

Spencer slung the bag over his shoulder and made his way towards the door. He turned towards you once more.

“I’ll see you tonight, Y/N.” He beamed. He held on to the straps of his satchel and toyed with his lip, no doubt feeling the same buzz you were. He walked towards the door, but before he could make his way out, you called out to him.

“Have a good day at work, Dr. Reid!”

“You too, Mrs. Reid!”

[mihotose]

ok ive spent several days reading kenran zuroku heres my favourite facts/details i didnt notice bc i dont pay close attention

imanotsurugi’s hair touches the floor when its loose

maeda has leaf patterns on the lining of his cape that change between white and purple depending on the angle

all the awataguchi tantou besides yagen have ribbons around their uchiban shirt collars and most of them have dark grey ribbons but maeda’s is yellow, houchou’s is light grey, and mouri’s is a green darker than his hair

midare’s sentou shorts have a gold flower on his hip (hidden by his dress)

gokotai’s tigers all have unique designs and have either sky blue or gold eyes hence why his kiwame tiger has one gold one sky blue eye

gokotai’s eyes seem to shine in the dark

aizen uses a red cord as a belt but he struggles to untie it every time lmao

sayo isnt good at tying bows so theyre all wonky..........

i already knew this but nikkari doesnt wear Anything under his uchiban jersey

izuminokami and horikawa’s eyes are shinsengumi haori blue (straight up didnt make the connection)

urashima and nagasone’s wear their kotetsu straps the same way but hachisuka has an extra strap on his left upper arm and around each ankle

the white kotetsu shirt is like a blacksmith’s outfit. urashima and hachisuka have the same but urashima’s wears his like nagasone

URASHIMA HAS THE SAME HAIR TEXTURE AS HACHISUKA HE JUST STYLES IT LIKE NAGASONE

urashima has fishscale patterns on his uchiban jinbei

nakigitsune wears a tie during uchiban he just has his jersey zipped up over it

the samonji have a decorative knot hanging from their chest. sayo’s has one loop souza’s two kousetsu’s three

hachisuka is the only kotetsu to wear that long sleeved black top under his kotetsu shirt

hachisuka has a high centre of gravity with a feeling of floating and weightlessness compared to nagasone’s low centre of gravity and groundedness

his waist armour was designed to be like a tennyo’s hagoromo and his hair is like a halo

nagasone’s uchiban vest is soft after many washes

his hair ties are cheap (vs hachisuka’s. golden flower hairpin.) and his hair is “animal-like” (despite not being a ‘real’ kotetsu etc)

nagasone’s waist armour was designed to be like blackbird feathers and i literally couldnt read it properly but urashima’s may be a grass skirt? if i read it right.

akashi has a habit of fiddling with his hair

he rolls his left sleeve up so he can swap to his left hand in emergencies

all the osafune have an emblem on their uchiban jersey’s right sleeve

shokudaikiri has a sliced moon/fire in gold

kenshin and azuki have a sparrow feather/bamboo in blue and pink respectively. i think the small feather filament may represent kenshin and the bigger one azuki?

daihannya has coins in gold

koryuu has a dragon claw in purple

chougi has a flame(?) in grey

shinano’s hair is just long enough to put in a tiny ponytail

he has a kaishi ire (tissue/notepaper case) in his inside jacket pocket

things he keeps in his garter pouches: portable sewing kit, ointment, umeboshi, bandage, candy, nail clippers, etc

hakata is very lucky cat themed

he carries a pen (with a lucky cat logo) and notepad on him into battle

he puts little clips on his trousers in uchiban to keep them rolled up

houchou’s bag has both japanese and western sweets

his armguard has a vague rabbit design

he has a little bird netsuke on his belt behind his back!!!

taikogane’s hair looks like a bird’s nest in the mornings

his uchiban tshirt has date masamune’s maedate moon on it

fudou’s hair goes down to his calves

mouri has to wrap his belt around him twice

kenshin and azuki both have dango hanging from their belts

they have the same handkerchief in their back pockets in uchiban: white with pink azuki beans along the edge

kenshin has azuki beans on the soles of his uchiban wellies

kenshin’s uchiban socks have two azuki beans on the side while azuki’s have three

hyuuga’s two black hair strands comes from the two gomabashi engravings in the blade

the blade was often used as a gift which is why he has so many ribbons and bows

when he puts his hood on he takes his hat off and puts it in his belt

his hair accessories are omodaka shaped (ishida-ke mon)

his uchiban water bottle has an umeboshi onigiri keychain hanging from it

kotegiri has five moles in a circle on the back of his right hand and two under his right eye

several of muramasa’s layers have gaps cut out so he can screw his tail in

kikkou’s uchiban scarf has embroidered chrysanthemums in gold thread

nansen wears toe socks

his kusege flutters in the wind but returns to its original position

his uchiban jersey has the same ring as his collar but in silver as his zip pull

juzumaru’s eyeshadow is made with lapis lazuli which purifies the soul and wards off evil

hes very heavily lotus themed with lotus pink and lapis lazuli blue coloured accessories

his beads change between black and white depending on the lighting except the three large ones which are ultramarine blue

his uchiban boots have a pink version of nikkari’s kyougoku-ke shiroshouzoku pin?

the two metal parts on ookanehira’s collar come together to form a butterfly except he always has his collar open so they dont join

daihannya has a LOUPE

koryuu’s studs are the same purple as his eyes

he has a satchel on the back of his belt with medicine, a compass, letter scroll, writing set, map, koban purse, etc inside

he has five hairpins on his right side and four on the left

higekiri and hizamaru get new white symbols on their jackets with each toku representing onikiri, shishinoko, and tomokiri, and kumokiri and hoemaru

kogarasumaru’s sentou is inspired by the battle of dan no ura, with the frills on his right shoulder representing the waves

the lining of his suihi has a pale cyan to vermilion gradient that changes in the light

he is barefoot and graceful as a ballerina, inspired by an anecdote of a tiptoeing crow

azuki’s uchiban tshirt is white with pink sparrow and bamboo designs

shizuka doesnt wear that black sleeveless turtleneck that tomoe does in uchiban

tomoe doesnt tie his sleeves up like shizuka does

hizen wears the same pants in sentou and uchiban

chougi wears both SHIRT GARTERS and SOCK GARTERS

buzen has tiny zipup pockets in his knees

chiyoganemaru plaits his hair in uchiban and ties it with a yellow scrunchie with an anemonefish charm

hakusan’s skin feels cold to the touch

his hat has a melon flower pin sewn to it and he has a melon flower keychain hanging from his uchiban belt

gokotai’s nails are tiger fur orange after kiwame

on his shoulders, knee pads, socks, and boots he has four orange spots that are like tiger toe beans

gokotai’s crest is on his tiger’s forehead and it disappears temporarily when he gets damaged

the blue/purple fireballs around nikkari are hitodama

souza’s beads become a greenish blue but can look purple sometimes depending on the lights

the pattern on hachisuka’s breastplate is like maki-e flowers

his kiwame coat has tiger stripes in the lining and is just like urashima’s but his flutters more

his hagoromo (he has his own now!) is iridescent and the section behind his head floats slightly

he has the image of flowing water and petals and the light and open feeling is like he is sitting in a lotus which reflects his extreme internal change (he has reached enlightenment!!!!!!)

[rebeccccccaaa]

ｂｕｎｎｙ

_____________________________

ｂｕｃｋｙ ｂａｒｎｅｓ ｘ ｓｔｒｉｐｐｅｒ!ｒｅａｄｅｒ

ｓｕｍｍａｒｙ: bucky’s got a little secret that he goes to every night; where his little bunny is waiting for him just like always.

ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: smut 18+ (pet names, bucky gives you a collar ;), face sitting, oral m recieving, light bondage, semi public sex, unprotected sex) slight angst?

ａ/ｎ: i really like this lmao might do a part 2? idk let me know 

ｗｃ: 2.3k

_______________________________

“Where are you headed Buck?” 

“Out,” he said without much thought.

“Wait!” Steve shouted, running to catch up to him.

“Seriously, Buck. What’s going on? You’ve been out almost every night. You’ve taken out tons of money for cash,” Buck looked at Steve confused, “Yeah, Tony asked me why you were wasting your paycheck and where it was going. I told him I have no idea.”

“Can you not right now? We’ll talk…” Bucky trailed off patting his pockets; looking for something.

“We’ll talk later, I promise,” he said before running upstairs to grab a velvet box. 

Bucky went to the garage, luckily without running into anyone, and hopped on his bike and headed to the club downtown. When Bucky got there his senses were quickly overwhelmed with the smell of weed, smoke, sweat, alcohol. But he got over once his eyes landed on you. 

You sat in the pink and purple lights on another man's lap; slipping bills in your bra and panties, laughing and sulking in your attention. Bucky knew the demands your job had but it didn’t stop him from wanting to turn any man who touched you or even looked at you like he did inside out. 

You looked up and noticed Bucky’s piercing eyes looking at you. You wanted to cave in yourself. It wasn’t often that Bucky would find actually doing your job but when he did you felt dirty and gross; like you were cheating on him even though he wasn’t yours and you weren’t his. 

Yet.

“That’s your time,” you said sexily to the man. 

“Oh come on, baby. Lemme get another hour. Maybe we can migrate to one of the private rooms?” he whispered disgustingly. 

“I’m sorry. I have another client,” you looked down at his hand where a gold wedding band sat on his fourth finger.

“Hey, you’re not going anywhere. It’s your job to please me,” he grabbed your arm roughly, shocking. This wasn’t rare but it also didn’t happen a lot; it still scared you when stuff like this happened.

“I already told you I have another client,” you yanked your hand away, quickly walking away shaking.

“Fuckin’ whore,” he said distantly; you rolled your eyes. Sometimes this job makes you feel disgusting.

“Are you ok?” Bucky said brushing your arm softly when you went up to him.

“Yeah, I’m  ok. The room in the back corner is open for us, I’ll meet you there. I’m just gonna grab a quick drink. Do you want anything?”

“No. Wait- Actually could I just have some water?”

“Mission?”

“Yeah,” he responded; you smiled softly before going to the bar. 

“You ok? I saw what happened,” the bartender asked you while grabbing two waters for you and Bucky.

“Yeah, just a guy with too much testosterone,” you chuckled.

“Need a shot?” she asked, holding a bottle of tequila.

“No, uh, Buck’s here,” you hesitated. She knew about your “nightly sessions” you’ve had for the past couple months. Yes, months. Bucky came almost every night. It started just for sex at first. You hadn’t intended to sleep with him his first night but it happened. Since then Bucky became addicted. He doesn’t even pay, he just shows up and fucks your brains out. And you don’t mind not one bit.

“This isn’t healthy for either of you.”

“I know but it’s all I have right now.”

You walked around the swarm of dancers and clients coming up to the private room designated for private dances. You slowly opened the door and closed it behind seeing Bucky snap his head to you when you came in. His usual worrisome and hard face soften with his beautiful smile. 

You smiled back handing him his water. He took it and chugged it all in seconds. Some water spilled down his chin and his throat and you were instantly turned on, holy hell that was hot.

“Thank you, bunny,” he smirked. The name you were given when you joined the club as a dancer was Bunny; it was also Bucky’s favorite name to call you. 

“Speaking of, I have something for you,” he took out the velvet box and grabbed your hand to lead you to the small pink bed. He sat you on his lap, hands rubbing your legs softly while you carefully opened the box. Inside was a baby pink collar with diamonds speckled across the leather. There was a gold loop that dangled in the front, a tiny pink bow above it. On it spelled with diamonds as well was B’s Bunny. 

“I didn’t know if it would make you uncomfortable to have my whole name on it,” he whispered in your ear.

“I love it,” you giggled.

He nibbled on your ear while you pulled out the collar handing it to him so he could put it on. When he did he pulled on the loop to pull you in for a kiss. A messy dirty sloppy kiss that made you weak in the knees. Your arms wrapped around him pulling even closer.

“My bunny,” he growled when you pulled away.

You slowly got off his lap and to the floor. Your hands moved across his front before stopping at his waist. You unbuckled his pants pulling his belt off completely. 

“What are you doing, princess?”

“I want to say thank you. For my pretty collar,” you said sensually. 

You pulled his pants and underwear down his thighs, grabbing his cock pumping excruciatingly slow. His breath quickened when you licked the underside of it. Not long after, you wrapped your lips around his tip. You sank down a bit until his tip hit the back of your throat. Bucky’s hands brushed your hair delicately.

You move swiftly up and down his shaft hollowing cheeks to suck hard on his cock. You gagged only a little when Bucky started to move his hips upward  into your face. He moaned and whined underneath you making you hum in content. The hum you made vibrated against Bucky’s dick settled in the back of your throat. 

His hips arched off the bed and you deepthroated his cock feeling hot spurts of cum shoot down your throat.

“God, your fucking amazing, bunny,” Bucky panted coming down from his high. 

Bucky grabbed you hand and brought you to your feet, then sat you on his lap to kiss you. 

“Sit on my face, baby girl,” he whispered.

You crawled up his body and straddled his stomach first. He kissed your stomach and chest; he rubbed his hands all over you. You moaned softly and sighed in pleasure. The music was still playing in the club and you started moving your hips side to side, rolling your head back.

“You’re so fucking sexy, my bunny.”

You only smiled at him before proceeding to crawl up to straddle his face. He laid back to make room for you leaving tender kisses on your inner thighs. You looked down to see Bucky under you; the sight was gorgeous. He lifted his hands to move your panties to the side then licked a slow long line up your pussy. 

“You're so wet, bunny,” he mocked.

He continued skillfully moving his tongue up and down your pussy and you moaned and whined above him. You down again to find Bucky’s cheeks tinted red, his forehead a little sweaty, and his eyes closed; basking in your sex you gave him. His hands wrapped around your thighs from underneath and he pulled you further down on him, sucking on your clit. 

He moaned as well making vibrations, your body shuddered in pleasure. The pressure building in your stomach was about to burst so you reached down and curled your fingers in Buck’s hair tugging gently. Your back slightly arched and you came, practically gushing all over his face. 

“That was fucking amazing, we need to do that again. I fucking loved it,” Bucky said when he sat up. 

You panted before laying back on the bed chuckling at what Bucky said. He stood up and you thought he was done for the day, ready to walk out of here like he didn’t just blow your fucking mind by having you sit on his face. But he walked to where you had previously discarded his belt and grabbed it after he stripped off his shirt. 

He turned to you slowly and stalked up to you, smirking like the devil. You sat up smiling back at him; he stood in between your legs with the belt in his hands. 

“Gimme,” he said firmly.

You gave him your hands and he wrapped the belt around them. Tonight he was extra adventurous. Usually he would come and you would ride him maybe once or twice, you’d suck his dick, he would eat you out but all this normally was on the bed or the small couch that’s off to the side. 

You’ve never sat on his face, or anyone’s face, and you’ve never been tied up in any way. But you'd do anything for him and if this is what he wants for tonight he was gonna get it.

Bucky kissed you when he finished looping the belt around your wrists. He made sure it wasn’t too tight before laying you back with your hands above your head. He grabbed your panties and slipped them down your legs. He took his pants and boxers off too leaving him bare before you. 

He crawled above you and looked to you to make sure you were ok with everything. You’ve had sex almost every for the past few months and he still asks if you’re ok. It’s heartwarming. You nodded with a smile and he slid into you hard and fast. 

You moaned loudly and luckily the music was always quite loud in the club, part of the reason you  two have never been caught; beside the bartender lady having her suspicions and you telling her because you were getting too anxious not telling anyone.

He kissed you roughly groaning above you as his hips snapped in and out of you repeatedly. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head in pleasure and Bucky chuckled proudly at that. He buried his face in your neck peppering light kisses every now and then. 

Your hands tugged away from each other, a pathetic attempt to break the bondage on you. You whined desperately wanting to hold Bucky; to run  your hands across his body like he does to you always. 

“Bunny, I’m gonna come soon.”

“Me too Bucky. You feel so good.”

“Tell me you let others touch the way I do?”

“No only you!” you moaned.

“Really? ‘Cause that’s not what I saw coming in here; seeing that man have his filthy hands all over you.”

“It’s not real,” you whimpered.

“And this is?” he growled.

“Yes! Bucky, I’m so close,” you sobbed, tears falling down your face in pleasure.

“Me too baby, let go for me. Let go.”

You tumbled over the edge, practically screaming through your climax. Bucky’s arms almost gave out as he came with you. You breathed heavily coming down from your high. Bucky quickly undid the belt and rolled to your side.  He grabbed your wrists finding them a little red and kissed them to soothe any pain you had. 

“What’s wrong?” you asked him, “You look deep in thought.”

“I want you,” he whispered.

“You already have me,” you said.

“No, I… It’s nothing,” he stood up gathering his clothes.

“You gonna keep working tonight?” he asked, getting dressed.

“No I think I’m done for tonight.”

“Ok well good night. I’ll see you tomorrow, bunny,” he came up to you and kissed you deeply before walking out.

Bucky got back on his back bike parked outside hesitating slightly; he wanted to bring you home. He wanted to fall asleep in your arms and wake up next to you. But he didn’t know if you felt the same way about him; it seemed like it but that was your job. You indulge in men’s desires and fantasy. Maybe that’s all this was, a fantasy. 

What he didn’t know was when he felt you, you took your collar off and stared at it. You hated how much you cared for him. How you would do anything for him and he had no fucking clue. He had no idea how he made your heart flutter with every smile, every kiss, every little touch. You were so head over heels for him but you still think this is some fantasy he wants to play for the time being. 

Every night you leave after him, scared that it was the last. That you wouldn’t see him the next day because he’d grow tired of you and leave you for someone else. But that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“You wanna talk now?” Steve said walking into Bucky’s room. 

“Really?” 

“Come on. Something is eating you up and you're being reckless with your paycheck, sneaking out every night and coming back at what,” he looked at the clock on his bedside, “3 in the morning?”

Bucky simply rolled his eyes.

“Are you doing drugs?” he asked like a stern father.

“No! Ugh Steve.”

“Tell me what’s going on, Buck.”

Bucky sighed and hesitated but ultimately confessed.

“I’ve met the love of my life and she doesn’t know it. She probably never will and I hate that.”

“Buck…” Steve sighed hugging his best friend to comfort him.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“The situation is a little complicated; kind of a long story.”

“Well it’s not like either of us are going to sleep anytime soon. I’ll grab the whiskey.”

Bucky chuckled and sat himself down ready to tell Steve about the gorgeous woman he meets at the club every night and how she has him wrapped around her finger; a sickly man in love with a woman he can’t have. His perfect little bunny, Y/n.

[jadedxrealityw]

-Quiet- Oliver Wood x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

   Summary: You have been the chaser for the Gryffindor quidditch team for about a year now and were what everyone would call a ‘quiet brute’ you were fast and silent. For the past year both you and Oliver grew feelings for each other, but Oliver didn’t think you had felt the same. Until one day when Slytherin cheats during a match and you reveal why you have been quiet for so long

   Kody: Let’s see if i can capture the Oliver Wood we know. i’m am also fully aware that the timing will not fit in well, but it’s fanfiction so like lmao. I watched every single quidditch scene for this bullshit lol and i still don’t get it so bare with me please. 

   House: Gryffindor

   Possible Triggers / Warnings: cursing, Marcus Flint, Slytherin slander, (jkjkjk) a smidge of angst

   ☼-☪-☼

   Tap!

   Tap!

   Tap!

   you open your eyes and snap your head towards the sound. Eyes stopping your window. An owl was tapping its beak against the glass pane. It was so early, who would send a letter this early? Sitting up from the bed and throwing your legs off, you walk towards the feathery companion. 

   reaching for the latch, you unhook and push it open. The owl stepped off of your windowsill and onto the desk right under the ledge. You plop down onto the seat and reach for the letter in its mouth. The owl drops the letter in your hand. You rip off the wax seal and grab the folded piece of paper in the envelope.

   unfolding it you see a familiar name written at the bottom ‘Oliver Wood’ the captain of your quidditch team. The wizard you had known for a year and had a small- well large infatuation with.  You cracked a small smile before reading the contents of the letter. 

   ‘Dear Y/n, since we are playing against Slytherin tomorrow and they are our biggest rivals i want add an early morning practice today, hence the letter now. This extra training will help, i promise. Once you receive this letter head to the Gryffindor common room. With l- Sincerely Oliver.’

   you sigh deeply. Not being a morning person meant you hated getting up early in general, but you couldn’t do much about it. So you go over to your dresser and grabbed some clothes suitable to practice in. It’s been cold outside recently so you needed to cover up. 

   you slip on your quidditch sweater that had your number and name on the back, your black quidditch pants, and your gloves as well. As you lace up your boots you sit on your bed so you wouldn’t fall over. Once you were finished you stand up straight, reaching for your wand on your nightstand.

   you slip it into your belt loop even though you plan on putting it in the locker that was in the changing rooms later anyway. Once your all set you open your dorm room door and make your way down the hall, passing a couple girls that unfortunately woke up as early as you. 

   as you reached the common room you saw your whole team sitting on the sofas or standing up. Angelina was the first to notice your presence “Y/n’s here. That’s all of us” she says, standing up from the couch. All eyes turn to look at you, making you advert your gaze to the fireplace. 

   lifting up your hand for a second, basically an introverted wave. “Not a morning person aye L/n?” Fred asks, pushing off the wall he was leaning on. You didn’t say anything and just shrug your shoulders in reply. “Alright, let’s head out” your captain, Oliver said, gesturing with his hand to the door. 

   the team replies with okays and such and you all begin to leave the common room. You let most of them walk out so you can be in the back, mostly so no one would try and talk to you. It was too early and you were too cranky for conversation right now- or ever really.

    ☼-☪-☼

   as you all walked the halls, you didn’t notice the certain scottish boy slowly falling behind until he was standing next to you. You only noticed when he suddenly spoke “Sleep well?” he asked. You turn your head to look at him for a split second before back the other direction “Fine”

   he nods once. You didn’t really give him much to go off of. Oliver made you more nervous than other people did, probably because of the crush you had on him. If only you knew he was exactly the same. “That’s good. Are you nervous about tomorrow's match? I sure know i am” 

   you shrug your shoulders once, not really knowing how to answer “A little.” you say, looking forward. You all were nearing the field now and everyone was going into the male and female locker rooms to get there brooms and such. Oliver was about to follow the other guys when you spoke again.

   “I wouldn’t worry much, your a skilled keeper” you say, E/c eyes focused on your fingerless gloves on your hands. Before he could get a word in you follow Katie Bell into the locker rooms, leaving Oliver dumbfounded by your words. “Aw look at the young love. If only you weren’t a nervous wreck right?”

   Oliver heard both twins snicker and laugh, causing him to become flustered “Both of you get your brooms” he snaps, before pushing pas the two of them. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    morning practice went well that day as well as afternoon practice. You were actually excited for the game tomorrow, which was a first. Maybe it’s because you wanted to see the look of despair as your team own the match. Either way, you couldn’t wait for the match to start

    “Welcome back everyone to another exciting day of quidditch! Today Gryffindor is going against Slytherin for this seasons quidditch cup! Both teams are currently tied, so this game will for sure see who is the superior team! Now, let’s welcome our teams. First Slytherin!”

   Lee Jordan’s voice boomed through the mic as the Slytherins roared for there team. You watched from the ground as the Slytherin team flew onto the field, throwing their hands in the air. You took a deep breath as they took positions “Alright we're up next guys. Mount your brooms!”

   Oliver shouts before mounting his own broom, all of you doing the same. “Let’s welcome our Gryffindors!” Lee shouts and all of you took off into the air, making your way up. You stopped in front of the Slytherin team and assumed correct positions as Madam Hooch stands on the ground below us

   “I want a clean match, ya hear me!? No magic and no wands, understood!?” she spoke, looking at both teams. Some of us nod while others just blink mindlessly. Madam Hooch kicks he box and the snitch and bludger are released. After a couple of seconds, she lifts up the quaffle from the box and holds it up.

   you tighten your grip on your broom, ready to launch at the quaffle once she throws it. Hooch smiles before tossing the quaffle in the air, causing Lee to shout once more “And let the games begin!” you and Angelina dove in to grab the quaffle while Katie drew back, just in case it was tossed outside the ‘kill circle’ that was happening at the moment. 

   a Slytherin chaser managed to get ahold of it, so Katie flew after her. Katie catches up to her and pushes the quaffle from under her arm, causing her to drop it. You could see it fall a few feet in front of you and took that chance to attempt to catch it. 

   you hold out your hand and grab the quaffle “Yes!” you say excitedly to yourself before beginning to make your way to the hoops where the slytherin keeper awaited for you, Miles Bletchley. You throw the quaffle towards the hoop and it completely misses miles and went straight in.

   “Y/n L/n scores ten points for Gryffindor!” Lee annonces, as the Gryffindors cheered your name while the Slytherin booed. Typical. You fly back as the quaffle lands in the middle again, this time Angelina goes after it.

    ☼-☪-☼

   after about an eternity of playing, both teams were tied with 140 points each. Harry and Draco have been unable to catch snitch. It was exhausting, but you seemed to be going strong. That was until you saw Marcus Flint with the quaffle. He was heading towards your goal.

   you see that Katie and Angelina are to busy being bombarded with bludger so you chased after Marcus. As you did so you watched as he uses his free hand to reach into his robe and grab his wand, he had most of it covered by his robe but you know what you saw. 

   Oliver, who was at the goal and ready to deflect Marcus’s throw was suddenly thrown back into the hoop and hit the metal bar. Marcus takes the opportunity to throw the quaffle into the hoop and scores “Another ten points for Slytherin and that’s 150 points. Slytherin wins!”

   you feel your heart drop as Slytherin erupts in victorious cheers. It was almost as if you were on autopilot as you flew down to meet your team. All of you watched as the Slytherin team high hived each other. What a bunch of bloody cheaters. 

   “I swore i had that. This is all my fault” Oliver spoke, his face dropped into a sad expression. You feel as if you had been punched in the gut, your fists balling in anger. You drop your broom and shrug off your robe “Hey Flint!” you shout, catching his attention as well as his teammates.

   “Well if it isn’t Gryffindor’s chaser. Came to congratulate us? How sweet” he holds his hand over his heart in mock sympathy and you swore you saw red. “Drop the act Flint. I know you cheated! I saw you pull out a wand! Which is against the rules!”

   the shouting seemed to draw in Madam Hooch as well as a couple or Professors that were leaving the stands “What’s this shouting all about!” she says, placing her hands on her hips “Marcus Flint used a jinx on Oliver to win! I saw it! He has his wand in his robe!”

   your teammates stood behind you, shocked by your outbursts. You only spoke about three words at a time and you were always so neutral. It was strange to say the least as you were fuming with anger. “I did not cheat! Your just being a sore loser and a bitch!” Marcus yelled back at you. 

   “What did he say!?”Oliver shouts, ready to knock Marcus out, but Fred and George hold him back. “Mr. Flint! There is no need for that language, now empty your pockets this instant!” Madam Hooch points to his robes as he turns a shade of white.

    “B-But i didn’t do anything! She’s spewing nonsense just because her captain is incompetent!” Marcus blurts out as a last attempt. Oh he did not. “Listen here you sack of shit! Oliver is the best captain and just person in general that i’ve ever met. So much so that you had to cheat just to win!”

   everyone is stunned into silence as you yelled, venom lacing each and everyone of your words. “Now Mr. Flint!” Madam Hooch repeats and you watch as Marcus pulls out his wand and hands it to her. She looks disappointed and shakes her head solemnly.

   “What a disgrace to quidditch. Marcus Flint, you are hereby removed from the quidditch team and will serve two months in detention. Also, Gryffindor wins!” she shouts and all the Gryffindor students who remained shouted in happiness now they had gotten their rightful win. 

     Marcus crosses his arms and mutters another insult towards you. You walk up to him and punch him straight in the nose, causing him to fall back. With that, you walk off the field. You needed to calm down and couldn’t do it with all those people around shouting and yelling.

    ☼-☪-☼

   you had avoided your team for the rest of the day, shameful of your outburst. You wondered if you would get in trouble for punching Marcus and the fact that you told half the school you thought Oliver Wood was the best person in the world, either way. You were fucked. 

   you were now making your way to your dorm so you could cram in some studying before bed. You wore a white t-shirt, a red and white flannel as well as baggy blue jeans. As you opened the door of your dorm a flash of light causes you to stumble abit as well as a bunch of colored paper? oh confetti. 

   “Thank you Y/n!” you hear multiple people yell. You quickly decipher each one as one of your teammates. As your vision cleared you saw Fred and George holding up a banner that said ‘Y/n is the best’ Angelina and Katie were holding baskets that were filled to the top with sweets. 

   Harry was holding a case of butterbeer with a kind smile on his face. Last. but not least Oliver stood in the middle with a bouquet of flowers. you felt your heart race a little more when your eyes met “Um- Hi” you spoke shyly and began to fiddle with the sleeve of your flannel. 

   “You didn’t tell us you had that fire in you Y/n!” George shouts out of nowhere, his twin nodding in agreement “Wicked” Fred says in agreement. You just shrugged your shoulders “Uh- Thanks?” you said, unsure of what the both of them meant. 

   “yeah, you definitely put Marcus Flint in his place. Even Draco Malfoy apologized to us. It was insane, you should of been there!” Angelina exclaims, placing her basket of sweets on the ground of your room “You avoided us yesterday, why?” Katie asked, everyone's heads perking up.

   you sigh deeply and figured you owed them some sort of explanation “I’m just really socially awkward i guess. My uh- my parents died when i was like nine in some freak potions accident with Luna Lovegood’s mom. So Xenophilius Lovegood took me in. I was mute for awhile, so talking is just hard i suppose?”

   the girls faces drop as well as Olivers. Who knew your silence came with such a dark reason. “Sorry- did i ruin the mood?” you ask and they all immediately shake their heads “No, of course not! Anyway, we wanted to thank you for calling Marcus out and basically handing us the win.” Oliver spoke, taking a step towards you.

   “Also for sticking up for me. I appreciate it” He adds and you feel a familiar warmth invade your stomach harshly. Oliver hands you the bunch of poppies and you tilt your curiously “There fake?” you question and he nods once “I know your allergic to pollen” he says, which makes your heart skip a couple beats.

   you remember mentioning that you were allergic to pollen when you first met. He remembered after all this time? A cough interrupted the both of you and you look to see Fred double fisting butterbeers “Enough of that love shit, lets just hang out”

   your team burst out in laughter as both you and Oliver looked away from each other in embarrassment. Stupid Fred.  

       ☼-☪-☼

    a couple hours later Angelina was passed out on top of Katie on the floor, they had all brought sleeping bags apparently. This was very planned. Harry was laying on a beanbag chair with a blanket over him and marker on his face. George and Fred’s idea. 

   speaking of the twins they both were laying on the floor next to the trunk at the end of your bed, sweet wrappers surrounded them. You and Oliver had yet to fall asleep yet. You had actually opened up a bit and enjoyed talking to him. The more you talked, the more you fell for him really. 

   during the little ‘party’ your team had you all changed into different clothes (in their own dorms of course) so you were now wearing a black muggle t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Oliver was wearing his quidditch jersey and black sweatpants. He looked- well...hot.

   “You know Y/n. I can stop thinking about how you said i was the best person you knew” you inhale sharply and lean back onto your pillows, since you were both sitting on your bed “Yeah?” you question, afraid to say anything more. Oliver sits up straight, eyes boring into you. 

   “I think your the best person i know” he says confidently, reaching for your hand. He grabs it and runs the pad of his thumb over your skin. “Yeah?” you repeated once more. He snorts and looks down at the bedsheets for a moment before looking back at you “I’m trying to say i like you Y/n, like a lot”

   say what now? Oliver Wood. The guy who you thought barely noticed you just said he had feelings for you. Like earlier, your brain ran on autopilot “Yeah?...” you say a third time. Oliver rolls his eyes before leaning into kiss you gently, hands cupping your face and leaving room for you to push him away. 

   up close he smelt like fresh cut wood- like from a broomstick. That made sense actually. You snapped back to reality and hesitantly reach up to place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. Oliver responds and places one hand on your waist.

   he lays you back against the bed and hovers over you, breaking the kiss. You look at him with a flushed expression “I like you too- you said it earlier so i felt like i should say it now...before anything else happens” you spoke quickly and quietly. 

   Oliver raises a brow in amusement “Anything else? Who knew you could think so dirty Y/n” he says in a teasing tone. You shake your head “What- no that’s not what i meant” your sentence trails off into a mumble. He chuckles quietly “I know” he said, going into kiss you again.

   “Can you guys not shag up, were right here” when did Fred wake up?

   “Yeah, be respectful to others around you” and there goes George.

   you watched as Oliver’s eye twitched in irritation “Both of shut up and go back to sleep. We are not shagging up” he says and they both mumble an okay. He lays back against the bed, turning on his side to face you “I think we should sleep as well, you don’t mind me sleeping here right?”

   you shake your head, not minding him there. He smiles lightly before reaching down to the grab the sheet. He pulled it over both of you. You go to scooch away to the other side when he wraps an arm around and pulls your back against his chest “You can’t get away that easily, lass” he whispered.

   you held back a small laugh before getting comfortable in the Captain's arms. “Night Y/n” he spoke quietly before placing a kiss to the back of your head. “Goodnight Oliver” you said back and used your wand to turn out the lights before closing your eyes.

   and with that. You fell asleep. 

    ☼-☪-☼

   Kody: I call these group of idiots the chaotic Gryffindor quidditch team. Anyways, peace. 

[preciouspeterbparker]

the warmest bed i’ve ever known

finally got this bitch finished! 

based on “tis the damn season” by taylor swift. i was also listening to the phoebe bridgers cover of “christmas song”, “last christmas” cover by pale waves (recorded @ spotify), and “home alone, too” by the staves 

also this is only my 2nd time writing starker so lmk what you think plz?

happy holidays! - bloo

word count: 6.07k. this was intended to basically be a porny blurb...instead there’s so much fucking plot it’s probably overwhelming and minimal porn. i’m sorry

warnings: angst, depression & anxiety, drug use (that good kush ft some hotboxing & shotgunning), smut, character death (not tony or peter), tony’s kind of country lmao. despite all the aforementioned things, there is in fact a happy ending! 

summary: peter makes the trip back home for christmas and once again finds himself caught up in deep brown eyes and a charming smile. tis the damn season. 

Peter had forgotten how cold New York winters were. He’d grown used to the year-long warmth of Los Angeles. He supposed the cold was appropriate- it was as if the weather was in cahoots with the solid, frigid thing that was sitting in the pit of his stomach. The last time he’d spent Christmas in Aurora, the last time he’d seen him… Tony.

Just thinking the other man’s name made Peter flex his hands anxiously as he slid out of the driver’s seat of his black Mercedes AMG GT into the amber glow of the streetlight, gently shutting the door closed behind him, still in the overly cautious period of owning the new car. He wondered what Tony would think of it. Last time Peter had come home, he was still driving May’s old Subaru. It’d been almost 2 years to the day, now, which felt like both a century and no time at all. He wished it wasn’t so hard. He wished they hadn’t been caught in this song & dance for so long. It seemed like no matter how good Peter’s intentions, it always came down to one thing: he was so damn scared. He always ran away, no matter how badly he wanted to stay. 

Scuffing a boot through the slush in the street, the brunette straightened his shoulders and made his way toward the brick building, a quick smile quirking half his mouth up as he read the neon red sign above the closed garage door. Stark’s. Memories came flooding back, the countless nights he spent cooped up in the little shop during high school, sketching elaborate ensembles and daydreaming about having his very first collection while surrounded by the smell of motor oil and the sounds of tinkering. The bell above the door jingled merrily as Peter stepped through and wiped his feet on the mat. The pleasant sound of Frank Sinatra crooning the words of “The Christmas Waltz” met his ears. Another small smile flitted over Peter’s face. That was something that tended to happen when he was around Tony. 

“Just a second,” came the slightly muffled voice, a little strained. The man in question was bent over, headfirst in the engine of his old 1979 Chevy C10, the one he’d gotten senior year of highschool. The collar of a heather grey henley peeked out from under a deep red and green plaid flannel stretched over his shoulders as he leaned a little further under the hood, using a wrench to tighten what looked to be a lugnut to Peter from his spot by the door, too nervous to go further inside. 

“I can wait,” Peter replied softly, trying not to stare at Tony’s jean-clad ass and anxious of the older boy man’s reaction. (It looked like Tony had done a lot of growing up over the past two years, no longer the boy he remembered. Peter supposed the same could be said about himself in a way, though he wasn’t sure if it was for better or worse.)

And apparently he was right to be cautious.

Tony promptly smacked his head on the underside of the hood as he jerked upright at the sound of Peter’s voice. “Fuck.”  Moving more carefully, Tony stood upright and turned around, his dark eyes wide. “Peter,” he said, visibly and audibly surprised. To be honest, it hurt Peter a little bit, how surprised he sounded. Maybe coming here was a mistake. Did they not do this nearly every year over the past seven? Had- Oh god, had something changed? Fuck, did Tony finally get tired of-  Had he found-

Peter resolutely cut that train of thought off before he could panic. “Hi, Tony.” He swallowed drily, making eye contact for a moment, before casting his eyes away only for them to make their way back to the open face in front of him. “Think you have time for a quick bite to eat?” He slipped his left hand into the pocket of the new, warm wool coat he bought expressly for this trip. “It’s almost dinner time. And I have a treat,” he intoned, tapping his right pointer and middle fingers against his lips.

Tony beamed and immediately reached for a shop rag to wipe his hands, the black grease and oil smearing on the probably-used-to-be-white-at-some-point fabric. One of those hands came up to scratch at his facial hair, a new addition that made something simmer deep in Peter’s gut. The older man's brown eyes twinkled as he paused to glance at Peter. “You had me at ‘hi, Tony.’” He then proceeded to move about the shop, swiping his phone from atop a chest of metal drawers, Sinatra’s voice coming to an abrupt stop. He pulled on his old lined jean jacket (the one Peter was constantly mending in high school; now it just had small tears in some places, and what appeared to be Tony’s d-i-y patchwork in others). The sign on the front door was flipped to ‘closed’ and Tony pulled a keyring from his belt loop, locking it and flicking off the lights. The streetlights outside the building and the colorful holiday lights strung along the edge of the roof provided just enough light for them to be able to clearly see each other, the sun having set early, around four o’clock. Peter had forgotten about that as well. 

He moved to grab his car keys from a pocket but Tony spoke up, patting the dark green paint of his truck’s hood and walking over to the garage door. His hand hovered over the button that would open it. “Actually, I just finished giving Delilah a tuneup, mind if we take ‘er for a spin?” 

“Sure,” Peter agreed without hesitation, still feeling relieved (and grateful) that his invitation was accepted. 

Tony pushed his palm against the button and paused to do a double-take after the metal door lifted completely. His eyebrows rose at the sight of Peter’s car parked in the small lot beside the shop. “Damn, L.A.. Not worried about your fancy new car?” His tone was slightly teasing, but there was a bit of shock mixed with something else as well, and it caused Peter to go hot, feeling insecure. (What if Tony didn’t like who Peter was, now? Peter didn’t exactly like who he was now.) Tony must’ve noticed his discomfort, because he cracked a grin and bumped his shoulder against Peter’s as he made his way to the driver’s side, yanking the door open. “C’mon, Parker, ‘m just fuckin’ with you. Hop in - how’da some burgers from Delmar’s an’ a trip out to the field sound?” 

***

They grabbed food from the hole-in-the-wall diner down the road (the one where sixteen year-old Peter burned the shit out of his hand on his first day and promptly quit) and once they were bundled back in the truck with their burgers, fries and one banana milkshake (“yeah, but these are your favorite,” Tony had said in response to Peter’s exclamation that it was too cold out), Tony drove them out to the field behind the old high school. He parked the car under the lamppost, leaving it running in order to keep the heat on. His thick mechanic’s fingers began to fiddle with the temperature controls. Nat King Cole was playing quietly on the radio. 

Peter shifted the paper bag of food in his lap, searching for words but not knowing what to say, and plucked the joint and lighter from his coat. The paper-covered filter found its way between his lips and he inhaled softly as he lit the tip. Satisfied with the light, he french inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. The first hit was always the best. Peter loved the way he could feel it all the way in his bones. He didn’t know how to describe it other than deep. When he opened them, he made eye contact with Tony in the dim light, and immediately cut his gaze away as he felt the heat rush to his face. He could feel when Tony looked away a moment later.

The lull continued and Peter gingerly held the joint between his fingertips as he exhaled, hand outstretched.  

Worn fingers plucked it away, and Peter’s eyes were immediately drawn to the slightly chapped lips that wrapped themselves around the filter. “You stayin’ at um, at May's...old place?” Tony faltered as he inhaled, as if he wasn't sure what the most sensitive way to talk about it was. 

“Yeah," Peter said softly as he looked down at his lap. Spending his first night in the house alone last night had made him feel the loneliest he'd ever been in his life, and that was saying something because he’d been feeling pretty miserable lately. Peter saw May everywhere he looked, waiting to hear her call for him to come taste some new-fangled recipe from the kitchen, or to please, for the hundredth time, rinse the dishes before he put them in the sink. He missed her more than he thought possible, her death earth-shattering after having already lost Ben when he was 17, back when this mess all started. When he left for the first time. When he started running away. “It’s- It’s weird but I’m...adjusting. It’s honestly not that different to when she was alive, though. Y’know- recently.” He cut himself off, not sure if he wanted Tony to know the full reality of his existence, now. 

Because it was true. It killed Peter to admit it, but his relationship with Aunt May started going downhill around the time of Ben’s death, too. By the time she had her heart attack a little more than two years ago, he hadn’t seen her in over a year, or talked to her in nearly as long. It was the biggest regret of his life, pushing May away; the second was the way he essentially did the same thing to Tony, however drawn-out it had been. 

Peter reached out for the joint and his fingers brushed against Tony’s, sending a jolt up his spine. “How,” Peter started, swallowing as he twiddled the lighter between his fingers not holding the joint. “How’ve you been, Tony?” He was scared to ask what he really wanted to know. Have you finally had enough? Did you stop waiting on me? Am I too late? To distract himself a bit, he cracked the window so he could ash the joint before taking another drag. 

"Same ol’, same ol’,” came Tony’s reply, his voice weary. “I mean, you already know this, but nothin’ really changes here." The quiet way he said it was slightly self-deprecating and the younger man hated it, hated that he had something to do with it. (Peter remembered the way he spat the words at Tony in the wee hours of the morning oh so long ago. "I've gotta get out of this fucking town- I can’t stay here, Tony! You might be okay dying here, a nobody with nothing, but I'm not!")

That’s why I had to leave, he thought, chest tightening. I was trapped in this town. It was never you, Tony. You were perfect. You’re perfect. 

"..Yeah," is what came out instead. Peter took another hit before he handed the joint back to Tony and began rifling through the grease-splotched bag, passing the older man his burger before unwrapping his own. He took the top bun off in order to lay down a handful of fries from the bag, smooshing the top back on afterwards. A moan left Peter’s mouth at the first bite, and he heard a chuckle bubble up from Tony’s chest. (He would never admit it, especially not to anyone back in L.A., anyone who didn’t know him before, but this was his favorite meal in the world.)

“Funny that you still do that. So, um,” Tony began again, stuffing a few fries in his mouth and chewing as he spoke out the side of his mouth. “I saw your new collection. It looked nice.” He licked a bit of salt off his thumb. 

Peter’s ears burned as he swallowed his bite and raised an eyebrow at the man across from him. “You pay attention to fashion, now?” He fought off a smile at the thought of Tony delicately flipping through the pages of a high-fashion magazine. 

“Not like- I’ve tried to keep up with your work,” Tony mumbled, swallowing, his own face taking on a bit of a rosy-hue. “Like to know what you're up to all the way out there.” The joint touched his lips for a few seconds before it made its way back to Peter’s fingers. “I do know how Google works.” 

Peter shivered as he felt something flutter in the pit of his stomach at the salt grains that touched his tongue when he took his next pull. “Tastes like salt,” he breathed on the exhale, locking eyes with Tony through the smoke that had accumulated in the car. 

Something flashed in the older man’s eyes as he stole the weed back and took a large hit, crooking his salt-sprinkled fingers to beckon Peter closer. 

Peter’s own reddened eyes widened when he caught on to what Tony wanted, his heart picking up speed. They hadn’t done that in years. Still clutching his burger in his left hand, he used the right to support himself as he leaned over the console to press his mouth against Tony’s. He closed his eyes as he inhaled, fighting the urge to slip his tongue somewhere it didn’t belong. One of Tony’s hands came up to pull his head closer for a moment, his tongue having the same idea as Peter’s, causing him to whine into Tony’s mouth. His pants were getting tight as he licked right back in response, feeling a slight burn from exhaling through his nose. He missed this. Nobody kissed him like Tony did-

“Shit!” Tony pulled away sharply, and Peter’s heart stopped for a second. But when he realized what was happening, he couldn’t contain the surprised cackle that erupted as he saw the joint land in the other man’s lap. “Quit it,” was Tony’s reply, though he was grinning as he said it. He grabbed what was left of the joint off his jeans and stubbed it out the rest of the way on the dashboard. “It burned my fuckin’ finger.”

“Oh poor baby,” Peter shot back, shifting in his seat and taking another bite of his burger. He willed the slight chub to go away, but knew it was a lost cause. He pretty much signed up for it; he was always turned on when he was high around Tony (and most of the time when he was sober, too). Some kind of conditioning or something, he thought deliriously. 

“Ya better hush up, Parker,” Tony snarked and dipped some fries into Peter’s banana shake. He rolled his neck a bit, reaching for his burger. “So, kid. Tell me ‘bout L.A..”

***

Peter was basking peacefully in his high, humming along to whatever was playing through the speakers. He and Tony had both finished their food, chatting about this and that, but nothing of real substance, their earlier stilted conversation far from their minds. Shooting the shit, as Tony called it, over some weed and a meal was their normal routine when they were younger, and it came as naturally as breathing. Peter had never met anyone else he could simply coexist with on this level, simply enjoying the other’s presence for what it was. I love you, he thought as he looked at Tony, who was leaning back in his seat with his eyes closed and nodding his head along with the beat. I’m so in love with you and it scares the shit out of me. 

The younger man’s eyes roved over Tony’s face as his mind raced. What was he doing? Would something be different this time? He wasn’t that angry seventeen year old anymore- now he was twenty-four, clinically depressed, and living someone else’s life. Would it be so bad to finally leave that all behind, to finally let himself have what he’s denied himself for so long? Didn’t he deserve to be happy, after all this pain? And even if it wasn’t in the cards for them, if Peter was destined to be alone, wouldn’t even the most miniscule amount of time with Tony be worth it? 

Tony’s gravelly voice startled him back to the present. “I should probably be gettin’ you home, huh, Peter?” The bearded man opened his eyes and began sitting up, turning to look at him. The expression on his face was unreadable, and Peter didn’t know if he should agree or protest, so he merely lifted a shoulder in faux indifference, shooting Tony a half-smile.

Please, call me Pete… Just Pete, Peter begged in his head. Tony calling him by his full name made the ugly thing in his chest wriggle uncomfortably. Last time he was home, before he said those awful things, Tony hadn’t called him Peter in years. Yet another beautiful thing that he’d taken for granted and ruined for himself. 

“Could also drive around for a bit if you wanted, see some lights.” Damn Tony and his ability to read Peter so well. The suggestion was soft, and he looked down as he said it, almost as if he was feeling shy. 

Peter shook his head minutely and shifted a little in his seat, gently biting his lip. “I’m getting a little tired, haven’t smoked in a while,” he lied through his teeth, but the smile on his face was real this time. 

Tony grinned right back at him.

(“What would we even do on a date? There’s nothing to do here, Tony,” Peter said with a laugh. “I dunno,” Tony replied, snuggling the lighter-haired teenager closer into his chest as they snuggled on the couch. “We could go look at the Christmas lights, get some hot chocolate… I could tie some mistletoe to the mirror in the truck. There’d be sum kissin’ involved….” He trailed off as Peter’s lips found his own. “Or we could do the kissin’ right here,” he murmured, sinking into the kiss.)

***

The drive back to May’s house was spent with Tony catching Peter up on everyone in town as they passed various houses. (“Remember Happy Hogan, the butcher?? Him an’ that pretty florist, Ms. Potts, got married last year. Think they’re havin’ a baby,last I heard.” “Rhodey’s mama died this spring, she got cancer, but he an’ Mr. Rhodes still live out here now that Rhodey’s moved home. Honorable discharge last fall. Done got himself a new girlfriend now too, Carol; he met ‘er in the Air Force.  She’s a sweet one, I think you’d like ‘er.”) 

When they pulled into the driveway, Tony cut the engine and hopped out. Peter did the same, grabbing the bag with their trash and patting his pocket, double-checking for his keys and lighter. He stepped around Tony, who had stopped at the bottom of the front steps, and walked up to the door, fumbling for a minute with his keys under the porch light to find the right one (it had robin’s egg blue polka-dots of May’s favorite nail polish). Tony’s footsteps followed him up the stairs. 

Peter stuck the key in the lock and opened the door a crack before turning to face the taller man. “So.”

Tony’s eyes searched his own as they gazed at one another. “So,” he parroted back. His index finger went up to rub at his nose as he took a hard sniff in. There was a beat of silence. “Thanks for the joint, and uh, the company. It was good seein’ you,” he said at last, a hint of his signature lopsided grin curving his lips. 

Peter felt the goodbye that was coming before it even left Tony’s mouth, and something in him broke. “Don’t leave me here alone.” The words came out of Peter’s mouth in a mumble, and suddenly he couldn’t make eye contact with Tony, losing focus and staring at his own feet instead. He felt the harsh burning of tears as it hit him again just how alone he was about to be when he walked inside, how alone he already was. He was always so fucking alone. 

Even in L.A., so much bigger than fucking Aurora, New York, surrounded by thousands of people, Peter still felt invisible, insignificant. He had no friends. Sure, he had a publicist, and connections, and celebrity acquaintances & clientele. But without his money and his clothes, what would he have? What did he have when he was just Peter Parker, rather than Peter Benjamin, semi-famous designer? Nothing. (When he got the call about May, and he’d broken down in the bathroom during a business meeting with representatives for Tom Ford, he realized he had no one to call. No one to comfort him or tell him it would be okay. He’d sobbed into his pillow that night, screaming his throat raw with Tony’s number punched into his phone, ready to be dialed. He never called.) He had nothing and no one, and it was all his fault because he was so stupid, and maybe this is just what he deserved. If he hadn’t pushed everyone-

“Hey- Hey, Peter, no. Never,” Tony was saying gently, cautiously pulling Peter into his strong arms and out of his anxiety attack. “‘m not goin’ anywhere if y’don’t want me to, baby.” He tucked Peter’s head under his chin, a chill running down his spine due to the chilly evening air. “S’okay, everythin’s okay.” 

Peter sucked in a deep breath through his mouth, trying to calm himself. His forehead dug into Tony’s shoulder painfully but it helped to ground him. The soothing sensation of Tony’s fingers tracing circles on his back helped, too. Peter’s breath was still hitching every so often, so he shut his eyes and tried to synch his breathing with Tony’s. It felt so nice to just be this close to someone- Peter couldn’t remember the last time he’d been held. Tony had probably been the last one to do it, though. (He’d had sex in L.A. of course, but it was all superficial. Nothing real. Nothing like what he had with Tony- not even close.) Shifting slightly, he buried his nose in the crook of Tony’s neck, searching unconsciously for the smell he loved so much; a mix of gasoline, teakwood, and something smoky. The scent sent a shiver down Peter’s spine, and that hot feeling simmered in his stomach again. He’d always joked that he would bottle Tony’s smell if he could. Tony would just laugh and jokingly tease Peter for always having his nose in his neck or armpit.

Now Tony just hummed lightly in response, tightening his hold for a moment before relaxing. “‘Yer’okay,” he whispered, once he could feel that Peter’s breathing had evened out for the most part. 

Peter pulled back a bit and stared at a spot in the middle of Tony’s chest, thinking. He decided to go for it. Worst that could happen was Tony saying no, and leaving Peter here alone, but he knew he’d end up alone eventually. But he’d delay the inevitable as long as he could.  “Kiss me, T,” he said quietly, leaning in before he could change his mind. His lips brushed Tony’s and he pulled back, trying not to go cross eyed looking into the other’s eyes. “I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

Tony stared at him for a moment before their mouths met again, and Peter nipped gently at his lip before clumsily walking backwards through the cracked front door, pulling Tony with him with their mouths still connected. Tony’s foot kicked it closed behind them, bathing them in darkness, and he tripped a bit when Peter clutched at the lapels of his jacket a little too hard. Cursing under his breath, he leaned back against the door and tugged Peter along, using the support behind him to balance as he toed his boots off. They disconnected momentarily as the shorter man did the same, hands still gripping the denim. 

Peter licked his lip as they stood in the dark entryway. Looking up at Tony, he shrugged his coat off, letting it fall to the hardwood floor beneath them. He reached out and gently pushed the denim jacket off the taller man’s shoulders too before leaning in, stopping just before their lips made contact. “Come upstairs with me,” he whispered. 

Tony’s mocha eyes flitted around for a minute, searching his face for something. Peter couldn’t tell if he liked what he saw, but Tony kissed him again before taking his hand. “Your room,” he questioned, taking hold of the banister and leading Peter up the stairs. 

***

“Fuck, Tony. Right there, right there, ohhhhh.” Peter was on his back with one leg thrown over Tony’s shoulder and the other bent off to the side, the ball of his foot pushing into the mattress. The mechanic’s uncut cock was stretching his lubed hole. Tony was leaning over him and one of his hands was clutching at Peter’s hip, the other at the leg up by his face. His facial hair scratched deliciously against the pale skin on the inside of Peter’s knee as he pressed a kiss there. 

(Tony had kissed and licked and sucked praises into the skin of his neck, chest, stomach and thighs as he’d fingered him open at a torturously slow pace. “So good fer me, Pete. Look at you. You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Peter had whimpered and whined the whole time as he tried to fuck himself on the thick digits whose pads were caressing his prostate.) 

A moan left the older man’s lips as he looked into Peter’s eyes. “You feel so good, baby. Always feel so- fuckin’- good,” he grunted, thrusting further in the tight, wet heat. “Love fuckin’ your ass.”  He dug his fingers tighter into Peter’s skin, sure to leave bruises. 

Gasping, Peter arched his hips up, toes curling, cock bobbing against his stomach with every thrust. He could feel Tony deep inside him, in that place that only he had ever been able to reach. Fuck, why had he ever let this go? Never letting you go again, Tony. You can’t leave me alone. I need you. I love you. He whined, baring his neck in a silent plea and bringing his leg down so that both were wrapped around the man’s thick waist. Tony reacted accordingly; his hands moved up to clutch at Peter’s near the headboard and his mouth latched onto the column of Peter’s neck, sucking. A wounded noise escaped Peter, his hole clenching, and Tony bit down harshly at the sensation. Peter keened again, going limp on the mattress as his legs fell open to the side. “Shit, Tony, god!” 

Hot, wet breath tickled Peter’s neck with every ragged exhale that left Tony’s mouth, causing the smaller to whine lewdly, squirming. “Yeah? Are you- mine? Y’gon be mine- huh, Pete?” Peter heard the unspoken question, the twinge of desperation in Tony’s voice. Will you finally be mine? He sounded tired, that deep-in-your-bones type weariness, Peter noticed as he felt his own chest start to get tight. He’d really done a number on the person who deserved it the least. And for what? To come crawling back years later, expecting to be forgiven? 

Yes, he thought in response to Tony’s question, hating himself for it. One of his hands tangled itself in the crown of Tony’s head, fingers pulling the strands at the root possessively as teeth sunk into his neck again. Yours. Always yours. He let out another moan, rolling his hips in an attempt to get some friction on his neglected cock that was weeping precum as Tony continued to thrust in and out of him. “Please, please- Tony, please.” If Peter had any shame left, he’d probably be blushing at how needy and wrecked he sounded. Instead it just turned him on, knowing just how gone he was for the other man. 

With a grunt, Tony redistributed his weight and brought two fingers to Peter’s lips. “Open up fer a minute, baby,” he requested softly, slipping the digits inside. Peter laved them with his tongue, coating them with thick saliva and Tony groaned at the feeling, dick twitching in Peter’s ass. Once they were sufficiently wet, he pulled his fingers away, a thin string of drool stretching to connect them to Peter’s slick lips. “Fuckin’ gorgeous, Pete, Christ.” His calloused hand wrapped loosely around the hot, rosy cock between them. “Fuck my hand, baby.” 

Peter complied without hesitation, rocking his hips and pressing his shaft in and out of the slick tunnel that was Tony’s hand. He cried out when Tony’s thumb caressed the underside of the head as the cock inside of him nailed directly into his prostate. The pressure had already been a lot, but the pleasure was suddenly overwhelming in a new way. He was so close and Tony hadn’t even been touching him for thirty seconds. “F-fuck, Tony, I’m gonna- Ahhhhh-”  

“Yeah, cum for me, Pete,” Tony’s warm breath heaved into his ear, tongue sneaking out to lick the outer shell and dip inside briefly at the same time he tightened his grip on Peter’s sensitive member.  “Fuck, cum for me, baby, cum on my- Cum on my cock- God-.” 

And with a cry, Peter did just that, biting into Tony’s shoulder as the tension in his gut snapped, hole twitch relentlessly around the hard cock inside him as his own shot spurt after spurt of hot cum on his chest; some reached the hollow of his throat and his chin. “God, Tony, shit, shit, shit.” 

“Yesssss, Pete, holy fuck.” Tony buried himself inside one last time, his mouth latching onto the column of Peter’s neck as he reached his orgasm, shoving himself inside as deep as possible. His dick twitched, painting Peter’s insides with his spend and making him groan. 

They stayed that way for a moment before Tony pulled back to look into Peter’s eyes. “Lemme clean’ya up,” he offered gently as he carefully pulled his softening cock out of the heat of the younger man’s ass. There was a slight burbling sound, and he brushed his lips against Peter’s when he saw the embarrassment flash across his face. “Hol’ on.” Climbing out of the bed, he made his way to the bathroom that was adjoined to Peter’s room.

Peter’s heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest as he lay among the sheets, bringing his hands up to his chest to fiddle with each other anxiously. It couldn’t be over. He wasn’t ready for it to be over. He wasn’t ready to be alone again. 

When Tony walked back in, he got back on the bed, gently wiping the cum off Peter’s chest with a warm rag, smirking at the full-body shivers that ran through the young man in response to the cloth being swiped lightly over his nipples. Once his chest was clean, Tony moved down to run the fabric between Peter’s ass cheeks, collecting the milky-white substance that was leaking out of the hole. 

“Stay,” Peter whispered, once Tony had thrown the washcloth in the hamper and climbed back into bed at Peter’s invitation of patting the spot beside himself in bed. He wiggled so that his back was pressed up against Tony’s front. His fingers tangled themselves with those on a slightly larger hand and as he let his eyes slip shut, he felt Tony’s lips press a kiss into the sweaty curls at the back of his head. 

*** 

When Peter woke up, it was well past noon. The bed was so warm that the heat from his and Tony’s bodies trapped up under the fluffy comforter would be sweltering if he didn’t crave it so much. 

Peter swallowed drily as he looked at Tony’s face in the afternoon light, peaceful in sleep. At some point during their sleep, they had shifted to where they were facing each other. He wanted to trace his fingers along the strong facial features in front of him, but he refrained, not wanting to wake the older man. He knew he needed to talk to Tony. He knew that Tony deserved better. But maybe Peter could be selfish just this once... It was Christmas after all. Tis the damn season and all that. 

Leaning forward, with a hand pressed gently against Tony’s chest, Peter pecked his lips against the sleeping man’s in a kiss. He got no response, so he did it again, adding a little more pressure. Tony began to stir; his arm wrapped lazily around Peter’s naked waist, pulling their bottom halves together. 

“G’mornin’,” Tony mumbled sleepily as he blinked a few times before his gaze focused on Peter. His voice was scratchy and rough, and Peter’s hips jerked slightly in response as he whispered back his own greeting, partially because Tony had begun to get hard. The mechanic brought up a hand and took hold of Peter’s chin, pulling their mouths together as he ground their burgeoning erections together. 

Peter wrapped a leg around Tony’s waist as they lay there on their sides and began to gently rock his hips. “Tony,” he mewled, eyes screwed shut. The words were bubbling up inside him, just like the arousal was blooming in his gut. One of his arms wrapped around Tony’s neck, pulling their bodies together as close as they could get. 

“Yeah,” came Tony’s breathy reply. His eyes were roving over Peter’s flushed face as he undulated his own hips, thumb coming up to press against the younger’s spit-slick bottom lip. “Whadisit?”

Peter took the digit into his mouth for a moment and they made eye contact as he swirled his tongue around the tip, fellating it. He released it from his mouth with a pop, biting his own lip. “Am I too late,” he asked quietly, burying his face in the muscled chest before him, pecking tender kisses on the heated flesh. “Do you still love me?” His voice shook as he continued, breath faltering as well as the sensations built up. He squeezed his eyes shut even though Tony couldn’t see the tears building in his eyes as he chased his pleasure, preparing for the inevitable pain that was sure to follow. 

“Pete.” The way Tony said his name was reverent, like he didn’t see Peter for the walking mistake that he was. He was breathing heavier now, too, with the exertion of frotting their hard cocks together. “How could I ever stop, baby?” He craned his neck in order to meet Peter’s eyes. “Was just waitin’ on ya t’come home.” He pressed their lips together as Peter’s leg tightened around his waist. “Was always just waitin’ on ya t’come home,” he repeated. A particularly hard thrust had them both groaning, clutching desperately at each other as they chased that euphoric feeling. “’Course I love you, Peter. Now cum for me.”

Peter couldn’t help but obey as a sob burst from his lips, Tony following him over the edge. “I love you,” he cried, as their bodies shook together. “I’m s-sorry Tony, I love you- Don’t go, don’t ever leave me. I won’t- I promise I won’t go again. I can’t go again, I can’t leave you again. I won’t.” Tony’s thumbs came up to wipe the tears from under his eyes, and a kiss was pressed to his temple as he felt himself be pulled into those strong arms. 

“I’d never leave you, Pete.”

***

The bed was cold when Peter woke again. He lay there, watching the sunset through his bedroom window. Gentle creaks could be heard as the house groaned under pressure from the falling snow. He rolled over, grimacing at the pain in his lower half and pulling a pillow to his chest. It still smelled of teakwood, smoke, and gasoline. He smiled, burying his face further into the intoxicating scent. “I love you,” he whispered to the empty house, feeling lighter than he had in years. 

(Yes, the bed was cold, now. But Tony would be back to warm it up. And he’d have burgers, fries, and a banana milkshake when he returned. Maybe even a joint. Peter was glad he didn’t have to wait long. They’d had just about enough of that over the past seven years.)

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Late for Class

Summary: Reader and Sam are late to their classes because they were helping each other get ready.

TW/CW: Emo!College Student!Sam Winchester x Emo!College Student!Reader. Reference to sexy times XD

Requested?: Yes, a lovely Anon said, “Hi! So I saw that your requests are open so we all know Sam Winchester definitely had an emo faze I’m Stanford so what if the reader and him where just being a really cute emo couple and they helped eachother with their eyeliner and make up and clothes and it’s just overall two emos having a good time? :)"

Word Count: 733

A/N: Ngl, the wallet chain dilemma is literally a problem that I have often lmao. I hope this is alright. I tried to make it longer but it just didn’t work well. Anyway, as always, love to all!

Your POV     “Sammy, can you help me decide which wallet chain to wear today?” I called to my boyfriend who was currently in the bathroom getting ready for class. Today, he chose to wear a black t-shirt with skulls on it, ripped black jeans, and his combat boots. I on the other hand am wearing a Green Day shirt, ripped jeans, red flannel tied around my waist, and combat boots with a leather jacket to top it off.

    “Yeah, if you help me with my freaking eyeliner that is being a bitch today for some reason,” he answers, poking his head out of the bathroom door.

    I laugh and join him in the bathroom where he lifts me up to sit on the counter. He leaves his hands on my hips as he closes his eyes. I giggle at the mess he’s made with his liner and grab a makeup wipe to create a clean slate. Then, I carefully connect the dots of his lashes with the eyeliner pencil before smudging it out slightly with my finger. “Open and look up,” I instruct and he promptly does so. I again carefully draw a line along his lashes before smudging it slightly as well. Just like that, I’ve fixed his eyeliner and hop down to return to the dilemma of my wallet chain. Today, I can’t decide if I want to wear the one with two chains or the one with three. Sammy joins me and I hold them out to him for him to choose.

    He thinks for a moment before deciding, “I’d say the two chained one.”

    So, with that, I attach my wallet chain to my wallet and belt loop and check the time and realize, “Oh shit, we’re going to be late for our classes.” Together, Sam and I rush off to our classes mine is a Math class and his is an English class.

    Several moments later, I’m dropping into my seat in class as the teacher is chatting with a few students. She turns to me and chuckles, “You look rather flustered.”

    “Yeah, sorry I’m late,” I respond sending her an apologetic smile.

    “Was it because of Stuff this time or because of something else,” I laugh at her reference to my last time being late which was because Sam decided he wanted me to shower with him that morning and it had gotten out of hand. Our teacher is one of those that everyone wants for a teacher because she’s pretty laid back and understands what it’s like to be a college student. She even gives us three chances to be late or absent before she starts scolding us or disciplining us. I hope Sam’s teacher won’t be too hard on him either.

    I laugh and rub the back of my neck, “Technically yes, but not in the way you’re thinking. He needed me to help him with his eyeliner and I needed his help picking my outfit.”

    She laughs and my friend who always sits behind me laughs, “Gah, that is so couple goals. I wish I had a boyfriend like yours.”

    The teacher laughs as she turns to the board to begin our lesson, “Don’t we all?” I pull out a pen and my notebook to start taking notes and can’t help but giggle to myself as I think of how Sam will react when I recount this story to him later.

    Later that evening, I rejoin Sam in his dorm room to do homework and hang out before our friends come over for a game night. I drop my bag by the couch and plop down as he puts on a vinyl and grabs his own backpack. He takes a seat beside me, “How’d your day go?”     I laugh, “Pretty good. As expected, my Math teacher wasn’t upset about my being late. How did yours take it?”

    “He was passive aggressive as always but didn’t give me any extra homework or anything,” he answers as he digs around in his backpack.

     “My teacher asked me why I was late like she usually does. Except, she asked me and I quote, ‘Was it because of Stuff this time or because of something else?’” I recall.

    Sammy laughs and looks over at me, “You’re kidding? What did you tell her?”

    “I told her technically you were partially to blame because we were helping each other get ready,” I answer. He shakes his head and hands me a pack of flashcards. We spend the next hour or so going through these flashcards for our Biology exam. By then, our friends have arrived so we all gather around the coffee table to get set up for Monopoly.

Masterlist

Taglist: @emiijemii​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @desimarie12​

[4haechie]

son of apollo!donghyuck

pairing: son of apollo!donghyuck x child of athena!reader genre: fluff, comedy, some adventure/action, pjo au, e2l au words: 3,173 warning: couple of curse words here n there a/n: i reference a bunch of pjo characters in this so if u haven’t read pjo *crowd booing*

so donghyuck’s the son of apollo right

there’s like no arguing when it comes to that

he’s extremely talented at singing and making music, dancing, rapping, songwriting, so he’s no doubt apollo’s offspring

and he’s naturally gifted at archery as well

you can’t spell haechan without ACE teehee

u on the other hand

you’re athena’s child

you love to read and write you’re incredibly smart ofc

you love competing and winning and taking part in strategy making to bring your opponents DOWN 💅🏼

athena’s the goddess of wisdom as well as warcraft so needless to say you’re exceptional in both fields

you’re not just textbook smart, no no, you’re able to apply all the knowledge you learn…well…irl

not to mention you’re good with all kinds of weapons

ur fave weapons include swords and spears :D

you’re okay w knives too!!! and daggers!!! you’re not picky

but you’re better w longer blades just cuz u have more experience w them

fun fact: you’re the head of the athena cabin and donghyuck’s the head of the apollo cabin

you’re both great leaders, always doing your best to make the best strategies to win capture the flag, the chariot races, and other fun activities chiron plans for the campers 😁

but . you guys are Sworn Enemies

actually the better term to use would be “rivals”

you guys r So competitive to the point where you actually developed a rivalry during your first few years at camp half-blood

donghyuck LOVES to win but so do you… so obv he’s gonna go out of his way to make sure he/his cabin wins

that doesn’t mean you’ve ever backed down from his challenges…

if he’s competitive you’re twice as competitive

one day after breakfast during your fifth year at camp when you’re both about 18, chiron decides to host a good old game of capture the flag

u know . for old times’ sake 😼

once he makes the announcement you immediately turn to your cabin mates

“we have to win no matter what”

“y/n, it’s just capture the flag. we’re not fighting gaea”

“bitch are u in or not”

the entire dining hall is buzzing with excitement

nothing makes a demigod’s day like a capture the flag announcement 😌

chiron suddenly grabs the megaphone again and calls out “this time however there’s a little twist,” he chuckles as everybody goes silent

you raise an eyebrow

“you’ll be in teams of course. everybody has to play. there’s twenty cabins, so there will be ten teams of two cabins each. i’ll pair you guys up myself. each pair gets a flag–so there’s ten flags in total. the game will be won by the pair who manages to collect all flags and brings them back to their base before anyone has the chance to steal their own flag.”

the demigods burst into intense chatter and discussion once more

you turn your head back to your siblings and tilt your head in slight confusion

you’ve never played capture the flag in teams before

“anyone but apollo. i’m literally begging. sam, pray to athena right now”

“y/n RELAX”

“i think if we’re partners with apollo’s cabin i’ll actually jump into tartarus”

“…”

“what? percy and annabeth survived” 🙄

chiron pulls out a scroll and calls out the pairings one by one

poseidon and demeter, hades and ares (good luck to them), so on and so forth

your heart keeps racing . athena’s name has not been called out yet

and just like that your worst fear comes true

“athena cabin with apollo cabin. the game will commence in thirty minutes, which is how much time you have to prepare. good luck and stay safe!”

you drop your head into your palm (aka head in hands meme jpg)

“this is the worst day of my entire life”

“y/n, you’re hands down the most dramatic person i’ve ever met”

maybe it’s just you–bc your siblings seem fine with the apollo kids

they have so many apollo cabin friends :(

curse u and donghyuck’s little rivalry that the entire camp and chiron knows about

so him putting yall together definitely was not a coincidence cough cough

can u blame him

🌤🌈 he just wants all of u to get along 🌈🌤

he’s seen w his own two centaur eyes what happens when demigods fight between themselves

it’s not healthy

he needs u guys to get along bc u and donghyuck are some of the best demigods at camp rn

ur quick wits and amazing sword skills

his position as the camp’s best archer

imagine how powerful yall would be if u two worked together

if only you got along from the start.. but nooooo

ur egos r just too high F

but anyway, back to the present

you’re sitting there, head in your hands, dreading this already when some of the apollo kids swagger over to your guys’ table

donghyuck is in front of them as he scoffs after seeing your dreadful state

“why the sad face, y/n?”

you lift your head up to see him hovering over your seat and roll your eyes

you get up and your siblings follow

you’re just gonna have to make do. you don’t have time to complain

the thing is

you’ve only lost capture the flag once 👎🏼

a few summers ago the apollo cabin defeated the entire camp leaving everybody speechless

it’s true they didn’t defeat JUST you but somehow you thought it was personal

you had the PERFECT record 😕

zero losses . only wins

but bc of the apollo kids your cabin’s record was tarnished

which is sorta why you started hating them (esp donghyuck their leader) so much

donghyuck caught on immediately and made it a point to compete just as hard as u

so yea. that’s how you became rivals

he knows how much ur gonna hate working with him but u don’t really have a choice now do u :/

so he knows exactly why u have a sad face

but this is donghyuck we’re talking about

just bc yall r “rivals” doesn’t mean he’s not gonna tease u 😂😂😂

(or maybe he teases u bc he thinks ur cute and he hopes one day u realise him teasing is actually donghyuck for flirting 🤭)

“you know damn well why, lee donghyuck”

“oh c’mon i think it’ll be fun! if we combine our skills, we definitely have a hundred percent chance of winning”

you cross your arms and glance at your siblings who just shrug in agreement

you sigh loudly

“don’t even think about fucking this is up, donghyuck. and just so we’re clear, i’m in charge”

he laughs, “yup! got it”

so you start talking strategy

you only have 30 minutes so you need to make the best of it

you divide the two cabins into pairs so that an athena and an apollo kid will be paired together and in charge of smth diff

you have plenty of people on your team – 5 in athena’s cabin and 5 in apollo’s cabin

some will handle weapons and safety gear, some will handle mapping out the playing area which was basically the entirety of the woods, some will be setting up traps near your team’s flag to prevent others from coming close

30 minutes quickly pass and after dividing the work and planning your strategy with donghyuck and friends you turn your attention back to chiron who has his megaphone in hand

everyone’s told to gather outside the dining hall at the open field before the game commences

you, donghyuck, and your teammates briefly talk strategy once more . just to make sure everybody knows what they’re supposed to do

“let the game begin!” chiron blows a loud whistle and the demigods scramble out of the field, going to their designated flag locations

your spot is near a little creek, but the forest around your flag is quite dense so u figure it’s relatively hard to locate

it’s not that late so the afternoon sun makes your skin glisten with sweat

“damn, can you tell your dad to chill tf out for a while,” you tell donghyuck jokingly

he just rolls his eyes but on the inside he’s kinda glad you’re being casual with him rather than 😡😡😡😡😡 like u normally are

u don’t know what it is about him today but u swear he’s acting different around u

he wasn’t… as annoying while discussing strategy ????

he actually ?????? listened ?????? to what u had to say 🤔🤔🤔🤔

he didn’t argue, he didn’t even throw around witty burns like he usually does w/o hesitation

u were like… is he ok

little do u know!!! he actually l*kes u 🤭🤭🤭

well… it’s not a 100% fact that HE himself knows as well

but his siblings caught on to his weird behaviour n figured smth was up

mark being one of hyuck’s closest friends n siblings in the apollo cabin, realised he was acting weird ever since yall got grouped together

he seemed nervous ⁉️ which he never ever is

he’s like the most confident person mark’s ever known

so mark was like *thinks*

after putting two and two together mark came to the conclusion that he might have a small crush on u

bc hyuck kept glancing over at u, kept talking abt how ur a good leader (he’s never gonna tell YOU that tho. he crossed his heart on that one)

mark was like i didn’t even ask but ok

mark was confused at first tho cuz everybody and their mom knows about your guys’ rivalry so why tf would hyuck have a crush on someone he considers his rival

mark decides not to get ahead of himself bc hey!!! maybe he doesn’t have a crush, maybe he just thinks ur a good leader

like that’s it u know?

LMAO 🤫

so anywayz where was i

ah right

the flag

OK SO ur team’s flag is yellow ! :D

it’s like the colour of sunflowers

you and donghyuck r in charge of guarding the flag while ur team members scout around for the other flags

easy peasy

you and donghyuck are at your base now, weapons drawn just in case

the flag is hung on a poll couple feet taller than you

you’re dressed in ur usual training clothes – a pair of washed out shorts, a very old orange camp half-blood shirt; your sword’s sheath hanging from one of the belt loops of your shorts

donghyuck’s dressed similarly – a pair of blue ripped jeans, the same orange camp shirt tucked into them, but he has a purple flannel on, which he takes off and ties around his waist

“it’s so freaking hot,” he says, mentally agreeing with the comment u made about apollo earlier

“tell me about it”

there’s a silence that follows, the only sound heard is the subtle flow of the creek water

you’re thankful for the silence

it’s easier to keep an ear open for opponents on their way to steal your flag

just as you think about it, an ares and a hades kid approach your base

they’re on the other side of the creek, less than ten to fifteen feet away

“hi y/n,” the hades kid you’re kind of close to says

you shoot him a fake smile before holding your sword in front of you

donghyuck pulls out an arrow from his quiver and nocks it in his bow, aiming for the two demigods in front of you

the creek isn’t that deep, so the two demigods cross it with ease

they have their weapons drawn; they’re now a couple of feet away from you and more importantly the flag

no words are said as donghyuck lets his arrow fly and knock the hades’ kid sword out of his hands

he didn’t use an arrow with a sharp tip, you note

the hades’ kid stumbles backwards, imbalanced after he gets unarmed

you stand your ground as the ares’ kid scrambles forward, attacking you with her sword

your blades clash defiantly

you continue to spar with all your might

from the corner of your eye you see that the hades’ kid, sword back in hand, is battling donghyuck on your left

the flag is right behind you and donghyuck; you can’t let the two demigods get near it

you and the ares kid are still battling each other, putting all your strength into making sure she surrenders

but u should know better

ares and athena kids have many similarities like their love for winning, their confidence in battle, etc.

it’s like looking in a mirror

you don’t have anything against this particular ares kid, though

“c’mon, y/n, give up already”

that REALLY makes your blood boil

you never give up, no matter what

with one final blow of your sword, you knock her sword out of her hands, making her think she distracted you with her words

she goes flying back, half her body landing in the creek water

her sword lies in between you and her, but you doubt she’ll have the courage to fight again

the hades kid sees this and quickly scrambles away from hyuck, picking up the ares kid’s sword and giving her a hand up

“this is why i hate you and your siblings–your huge ego always gets in the way,” you hear the hades kid grumble to his partner as they run away from you, shame written all over their defeat

hyuck laughs and wipes sweat from his forehead

you can’t help but laugh either

you love it here at 🧡 camp half-blood 🧡

a few moments pass as your teammates emerge from the dense woods, each pair with a different colour flag held between them

you smile in victory

you quickly bring down your flag from its pole and give it to hyuck

“me? it was your plan…”

“yeah, but i couldn’t have done it without you, hyuck”

he almost passes out at your choice of nickname

back at the main hall, chiron announces your team as the winner, and that the prize yall being excused from doing chores all week long!!!!

it’s not much, but hey, at least you and hyuck ended up working together and winning the game, right?

later, hyuck pulls you aside from your cabin mates, and walks you to the lakeside

you two sit at the deck, side by side, watching the water doing nothing in particular

you watch as hyuck swings his feet lightly, his toes barely touching the water

“y/n, do you hate me?” donghyuck asks out of the blue

you’re like 😳 what

now that he asks you that . like straight up . it makes u think

do u REALLY hate him

or do u just hate losing to him

“why would i hate you?” you question back

“i don’t know? i guess because of our, um, rivalry thing i thought you can’t stand me”

you play with the beads of your camp necklace

“i don’t hate you, donghyuck. i just hate losing. i guess it’s the athena in me,” you laugh at how lame you sound

“i hate losing too, but i don’t hate you, in case you’re wondering.”

he takes a deep breath

“i know we started going against one another ‘cause of that one time my cabin won capture the flag, but i don’t want things to stay this way,” he pushes his hair back

“i guess what i’m saying is… i like working with you.” he pauses

“yeah,” he says, as if more convinced now, “and i would really like to get to know you better,” he clears his throat, very clearly embarrassed

you laugh at his flustered state

“stop laughing at me,” he stretches the last syllable as he lightly shoves you with his shoulder

you’re trying even harder to not laugh now, but for his sake, you hold it in

“that’s probably the cutest thing you’ve ever said”

he crosses his arms, “i’m always cute”

you’re like. THE NERVE?????? 😒😒😒

“how ‘bout we go slow? i mean, we just became un-enemies, we’re gonna need to be friends first, right?” you poke his shoulder

“you make a good point”

“i’m literally athena’s child, but okay”

“shut up!”

✨ time skip ✨

both u and hyuck stay at camp over the holidays which means more bonding time!!! yay!!!!!

a year has passed and u and hyuck r basically bffs, attached at the hip, and everybody except mark is surprised as fuck

rmb the days when hyuck thought u were “cute”?

welp 🤭 he’s at that point where everything u do makes his heart flutter

yeah… he likes u Like A Lot

u have no clue abt his feelings for u and he has no clue abt ur feelings for him either

exactly a year after the iconic capture the flag game, ur both seated at the deck by the lakeside, side by side, again

“y/n…there’s something you need to know”

“if you’re gonna tell me about the mixtape you’re dropping with mark, i literally don’t want to hear it”

“THAT WAS ONE TIME”

“YOU GOT THE ENTIRE CAMP’S HOPES UP FOR NO REASON”

both of you burst into fits of laughter

after calming down, he shoves your shoulder lightly with his shoulder, like he always does (only to u tho)

“no, seriously, i need to tell you something”

“what’s up?”

“i,” he pauses, clears his throat, “like you. a lot–i have for a while now.”

you swear your heart stops beating and your brain explodes

HE? LIKES? U?????????

he continues, “i don’t know if you like me back, but i’ve been wanting to tell you this for so long–guess i didn’t have the courage until recently,” he lets out an airy laugh

you’re looking at him in the eyes now; a subtle shimmer of the afternoon sun sparkling in his eyes

“hyuck, i like you too. how could i possibly not?” you chuckle at his shocked expression

he goes :O

he’s genuinely speechless when you lean forward and press your lips ever so softly onto his

you literally feel him freeze, which worries you for a second, but your worry is washed away when he slowly kisses you back

you melt right then and there

he takes your hand in his, interlocking fingers, as you pull away, a faint pink blush painting both your cheeks

“wow”

“really, y/n? that’s all you have to say? what happened to being wisdom’s child, huh?”

“donghyuck, i SWEAR to ALL THE GODS–!”

your sentence is cut off when he presses his lips onto yours again, you smile into the kiss which causes him to smile with you

he kisses you again and again, and then again, until you’re both a giggling mess

“let’s stay like this forever, yeah? what do you say?” he says, bringing his lips to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back and looking at you

you look at your intertwined hands, and then back up at him, “i’d like that”

[lizardkingeliot]

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

tagged by @phoenix-ascended thank you!!!! 💖

Okay SO. I’m gonna cheat a little bit here. The first nine I’m going to post are all going to be from the first nine chapters of time cast a spell on you (but you won’t forget me) but to be fair the chapters are so long they each might as well be a story all their own lmao. ANYWAY. Here we go. I’ll post the first paragraph from each I guess, in order of chapter number obvs:

1. Quentin shook out the tension in his hands. He didn’t understand why it wasn’t getting any easier. For days on end he’d been trying to perfect the illumination spell the rest of his fellow First Years had nailed in a matter of hours. But no matter how he tried, Quentin couldn’t seem to make anything more than a spark.

2. Quentin waited until Eliot was asleep to slip out of bed and hastily tug his clothes back on. The illuminated screen of his phone told him it was just past 12am. Clutching his shoes to his chest, he opened the door as quietly as he could manage and tip-toed out into the hall, all but running to his room and clicking the lock shut firmly behind him.

3. Dry-mouthed and groggy, Quentin woke in Eliot’s bed alone. He groaned, groping around for his phone to check the time for a long moment before remembering he’d left it in his room. Quentin rubbed at his eyes, rolling over and up to his feet, muscles he didn’t even know existed screaming as he went. He picked his bathrobe up from the floor and pulled it on, then tottered down the hall to empty his bladder and brush his teeth and gulp down frantic handfuls of water from the bathroom sink.

4. Tuesday morning was hell. Quentin woke just before eleven, empty as a husk. Filthy, all used up. His thighs sticking together where Eliot’s come had dried there in the night. Quickly realizing he’d already missed his first class of the day, Quentin pressed his face into his pillow, pulled the covers up over his head, and surrendered to the blank comfort of late morning sleep.

5. Quentin couldn’t feel his face, or much of his body for that matter. Which was… fine. It was great. It was fucking phenomenal. As long as it meant he also couldn’t feel the sinkhole that had formed in the center of his chest. The one that had been there for days, weeks, months, fucking years. He couldn’t feel anything at all.

6. Quentin felt a lever turn inside his chest, the source of his magic eking out a spark. Enough at least to send a message to Julia back at Brakebills. One of those little enchanted paper airplanes they’d learned his first week in Practical Applications that he never could get to fly quite right. He scrawled his SOS on a cocktail napkin and watched it flutter away like the world’s saddest butterfly. The universe took pity on him. Quentin figured he was probably due. 7. Christmas morning was a lackluster affair.

Exchanging gift cards over coffee and devouring great mounds of Ted Coldwater’s Famous Ham and Eggs while still in their pajamas. After, Julia and Quentin lay on the living room floor and Skyped with James, his grandparents waving hello from Pennsylvania in the background. They opened the stack of impersonal and overly-extravagant gifts from Julia’s mother that had been delivered to the house the night before. Quentin received a pair of cashmere socks and a leather belt with a shiny silver buckle.

8. Quentin stood at the bathroom sink, watching his face shift in the steamy mirror glass. Stark naked save for the towel looped around his hips. Hair dripping in cool, fat beads down onto the planks of his shoulders. So clean he swore he could feel himself sparkling from the inside out.

9. Quentin tossed his phone down onto the floor and leaned back into Eliot’s heat. “It’s almost like you want my dad to know I’m faking sick so I can stay in and let you fuck me until I pass out.”

Some patterns I guess: I love how chapters 2-4 all open with Quentin in bed after hooking up with eliot but all with very different vibes. In chapter 2, he’s just experienced subspace for the first time without having any idea that’s what actually happened to him and he is having A Time. In chapter 3, they had a very intense hook-up the night before and Quentin is sneaking out again, but this time he fully plans on returning right after. And in chapter 4, we see the joy of their beginnings at Columbia contrasted hard with the misery of where Quentin is at Brakebills.

ALSO 2/3 of the chapters begin with Quentin’s name which feels right considering just how deep into his headspace we are in this fic.

Okay. Anyway. Moving on:

10. Eliot loved watching Quentin lose himself in a moment.

It could be anything really: mastering a brand new spell; savoring something decadent and sweet; fussing with his hair when he thought no one was looking; focusing very hard on making himself a cocktail and getting the ratios just right; ranting about his Fillory books; reading his Fillory books, to himself but especially aloud; reading anything; riding dick...

That last one held a particularly special place in Eliot’s heart.

(from but i would die for you in secret aka the one where eliot is pretty sure quentin is only using him for his dick. spoiler alert: he’s not they’re just idiots)

11. Teddy was turning six years old. There was nothing in the world he loved more than stories.

His favorite was a version of Lord of the Rings Quentin had cobbled together from memory. He must have told it to their son a hundred times before it occurred to Eliot he could contribute more to story time than ogling Quentin’s hands while he spoke, or popping in to suggest when the Balrog should actually be making an appearance, Quentin.

(from in a land far away aka the mosaic fic where eliot makes margo hand puppets for teddy)

12. The words came out of Quentin’s mouth without a single coherent thought behind them.

“I’m just about to catch a movie with my boyfriend!”

There, outside the coffee shop on Eighth Avenue, Quentin’s maybe-friend from high school whose name he couldn’t even remember shot him a wide-mouthed grin. “Oh, that’s wonderful!” she said. “Which movie? My wife Danielle and I don’t have any plans for the afternoon and we’d love to tag along. Isn’t that right sweetie?”

(from your name like a song (i sing to myself) aka the one where quentin’s memory is shit and he and eliot pretend to be boyfriends in a post-monster world)

13. Eliot dropped the last box onto the floor. “Daddy’s wardrobe is safe at last,” he said, lowering himself down into the gold chair with a sigh. “Though I can’t seem to shake the terrible feeling that Todd raided my closet at the Cottage before I could get to it all.”

Quentin surveyed the damage from his spot on the sofa: there were at least seven large packing boxes bursting at their seams scattered around the penthouse. “I don’t know how you would even be able to tell. I’m pretty sure one of those boxes is just vests.”

Eliot quirked a brow in his direction. “Some of us are cultivating an aesthetic, Quentin,” he said. “And I didn’t see you complaining when I let you dress me for dinner last night.”

Quentin couldn’t help but smile. “I wouldn’t call picking between two pre-approved ties dressing you, El.”

“I’m also counting the fact that you said my ass looked great in my new pants.”

(from the parentheses (all clicking shut behind you) aka the suspender porn fic)

14. The night Quentin Coldwater died, a brand new star appeared in the sky over Brakebills. A little brighter than Venus, it stayed fixed in the same position for weeks on end. Eliot hardly would have noticed such a thing if it hadn’t been for the way that it hummed. Or at least, that’s how it felt. A humming in his bones. An old, familiar presence. Margo thought that he’d gone mad with grief. Alice was the only one who could understand.

(from a myth of devotion aka the one where eliot is sorta icarus and quentin is sorta the sun)

15. It didn’t happen the way Eliot expected it to. He dropped the letter into the mailbox, and pain blossomed in his abdomen so brightly it was like he’d gone supernova.

And everything went dark.

(from by night, beloved, tie your heart to mine aka the one where eliot sends the letter)

16. Eliot stretched out over the mosaic, his shirt riding up just a little as he clicked a yellow tile into place, and Quentin’s pulse leapt in his neck once, twice. Three times. His breath hitched. It was becoming nearly impossible to focus. In the heat of the sun, watching the sweat soak Eliot’s shirt clean-through.

(from i won’t deny (all the things i would do) aka the one where quentin and eliot start hooking up three months into their life at the mosaic)

17. After they decided kissing on the mouth was okay, Quentin and Eliot wanted to do it all the time. In every corner of the penthouse (“If you don’t stop sucking face while I’m trying to eat my sandwich,” Kady said one afternoon, “I’m literally going to feed you to the Baba Yaga.”), outside coffee shops, in between bites at the sushi place in Chelsea that Eliot loved. Once, they went to see a movie they couldn’t even remember the name of just to make out for two blissful, uninterrupted hours in the dark.

(from and a song of praise upon your lips aka part three of the box of chocolates series where quentin and eliot are definitely dating and finally talk about their feelings)

18. Eliot startled awake to something sharp and pointed slamming into his shin. He opened his eyes, and the toe of Margo’s shoe made contact one last time. Pain seared up the side of his leg, and he winced. Jesus, she really did not realize her own strength sometimes. Or the strength of her Jimmy Choo’s.

(from that you may know (the secrets of your heart) aka part two of box of chocolates aka the one where hand stuff is still banging)

19. Eliot Waugh was High King in his blood, and somehow that felt right. When they first arrived in Fillory, Quentin assumed he would be the one to wear the crown. He’d dreamed of it most of his life after all. On the throne in Whitespire, a fleet of talking animals at his disposal, a noble quest waiting around every corner to ferry him away to the next grand, heart-stopping adventure. But when the blade bit into his palm and drew no blood, and Eliot’s came up red, it felt like the final piece of some perfect puzzle clicking into place.

(from and this is the map of my heart aka the one where quentin wants to marry eliot and they have some incredibly filthy sex before everything falls apart)

20. Eliot walked into the penthouse to an eerie quiet. He found Quentin sitting in the kitchen under a dim illumination spell, drinking a beer and poking at the screen of his phone.

“Hey,” Eliot said, setting his shopping bag down on the counter. “Where is everyone?”

Quentin sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. “Out. I don’t know.”

Eliot squinted at him. “You didn’t want to go with them?”

Quentin lifted his eyes, shot Eliot a look. “No.”

(from for love (if it finds you worthy) aka part one of the box of chocolates series)

And I have now been here doing this for so long I no longer have time to try and find anymore patterns lmao BUT I will be tagging: @thelucindac @akisazame @fishfingersandscarves @nellie-elizabeth @freneticfloetry @rubickk7 and anyone else who wants to play!