#it feels like a 100 pound weight was just lifted from my shoulders

[lilgynt]

i am like wildly overestimating how well i could defend myself with like no self defense training with or without weapons on my person but id prefer that over thinking i cant like. build up enough strength to overpower someone or be scared to go to places alone

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future Part II, The Novel by Craig Shaw Gardner: Thoughts, commentary, and general ramblings

Part 4: Someone buy Doc a gym membership

Previous posts here

• The McFlys are drinking KELP TEA with their pizza dinner. That is some Keaton family behavior. Elyse and Steven would 100% drink kelp tea.

• Ok, I’ve gotta talk about this scene where Doc is struggling to carry unconscious Jennifer to the car: “Doc stopped to catch his breath. Jennifer weighed down Doc’s arms until they were almost numb, and he had barely managed to drag her twenty feet!”

Doc. Are you for real right now, my friend? In part III, Marty slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carries you from the car and into the mansion ALL BY HIMSELF in the rain. Up several steps, even! Five foot, four inch Marty. Carrying a six foot one, probably close to two hundred pound man.

And you, sir, just having had a natural overhaul that made you look and feel younger, and being as tall as you are, cannot carry a 5’3” teenage girl across the street??

Perhaps you should set aside some time to start lifting weights, Doc. Not super heavy ones, little ones. Just enough that you eventually reach the point where your tiny little buddy Marty no longer has to be The Muscle in your relationship.

• I must bring attention to the fact that Marty has said, “You’re the doc,” three times, and it bothers me that it’s different from the movie. Where’s that extra “Doc” that’s supposed to be tacked onto the end?? You’re the doc, Doc. Sounds silly without it.

• When Marty climbs in through what he believes to be his bedroom window in 1985A,  and the young girl starts screaming, Marty takes a quick moment to stare at the room in confusion. Among the changes in the room, one of the main things he notices is that his model airplanes are gone, which is a detail that I am currently holding tightly to my chest in a hug.

Marty builds model airplanes! I love that for him. Does he build them alone? With Doc maybe? Dave?? Are they from when he was younger, or is it a hobby our 17-year-old Marty engages in? You know, Marty has to deal with so much and be so mature about things, (and also MJF was in his late twenties by part II) that it’s easy to forget he’s a kid. But then he looks around his bedroom and goes, “Hey, where are my planes??!” and you remember that he’s just a little guy who has been tasked with dealing with a lot of Horrors.

I have to find a way to work the model airplanes into a fic now  thanks.

• The sad, drunk Dave scene that was cut from the movie (but is in the deleted scenes) is in the book. Marty spots Dave stumbling his way through the town, and it’s really a bummer of an interaction. Marty’s pretty horrified at the state his brother is in and tries to get some answers as to what’s happened, but Dave isn’t really coherent enough to help at all.

At one point, Dave tries to convince Marty to go have a few drinks with him, which horrifies Marty further. After pointing out that he’s underage and can’t drink (good boy, Marty), Dave says this

•When Marty tells Dave that he has to find their parents, Dave is disgusted. “Dad? You gotta find Dad? That’s sick, Marty. That’s really sick. What’s the matter with you, anyway?”

He also says, “And since when are you and Mom on speaking terms again?” which is a pretty wild revelation. ‘85A Marty and Lorraine aren’t talking to each other?? This does not fit in with my headcanons of alternate Marty at all. I shall disregard it immediately. :)

• Book Lorraine’s demeanor is noticeably different than Movie Lorraine. She’s speaking to Marty “cheerily”, and as she shows him the newly decorated penthouse, it’s said that she “waved happily at their surroundings.”

What a different introduction from the Lorraine in the movie, who is broken and defeated from the start. I wonder if she’ll continue to be like this as the scenes with her go on.

Still thinking about Marty building model airplanes.

[ghostwhogallopedaway]

stay, don’t go; i’ll eat you up i love you so

Ao3 Link

Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Experienced Kim, Inexperienced Porchay, Loss of Virginity, First Time, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Getting Back Together, Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Headcanons, Character Study, Porn with Feelings, Top Kim Khimhant Theerapanyakun, Bottom Porchay Pichaya Kittisawat, First Kiss, Kim is 22, Porchay is 18, Angst with a Happy Ending

In case KinnPorsche Season 2 is actually 100% dead and buried, this is my KimChay ending of choice thank yoooooou :'D

~

When Chay removes his headphones, the sound of gunshots and grunting men seizes his ears. When he turns around, a big angry man is lunging at him. Chay screams, tries to run, but he’s grabbed by his wrists and his arms are twisted behind him. His head bangs the corner of the table as he’s shoved to the floor, the impact ripping the air from his lungs. He writhes under the man’s weight but it does nothing. Terror pounds through him as a cloth is pressed against his mouth. Tears prick his eyes. He wants his brother. He wants…

Not again. Please, please not this again…!

A shot rings out. The man falls over off of him, bellowing swears and clutching his bleeding arm. 

“Ngh…” Chay’s head throbs. Everything’s spinning. He struggles to sit up, tries not to throw up. He manages to look over his shoulder, and a trembling breath leaves him.

Kim has the man on the ground at gunpoint. One glance at Chay, one look at the massive bleeding cut on his forehead, and Kim’s eyes blacken. He drags the man up by his throat, fingernails drawing blood.

“You fucking bastard,” Kim snarls. The man grabs at Kim’s hand but he doesn’t budge. Kim digs the barrel of his gun into his purpling face, then angles it down above his leg. A bullet rips into his thigh and the man heaves and sputters in agony, eyes ballooning from their sockets.

“K-Kim…,” Chay whimpers, lifting a hand. Kim turns his head, and the look in his eyes is nothing short of bone-chilling. “Please, don’t…”

Kim stares at him for several seconds. Then he turns his attention back to the suffocating thug. Kim releases his throat and he crumples to the ground in a violently coughing heap. Not a second later, the man bellows like a crazed bull and pulls out a knife before throwing himself at Kim.

“NO!” Chay shouts.

But Kim easily sidesteps him, slams his foot down on the man’s back, and shoots him in the back of the head. Chay covers his mouth at the sight, hyperventilating into his hands. He watches blood pool beneath the man’s head, watches it leak across the floor. Then Chay’s eyes go to the bar and he catches what looks to be more lifeless bodies littered about. He looks at Kim, whose face and white shirt are blood splattered. Chay’s teeth start to chatter and he twists away from the scene, knees to his chest, arms around his head, shivering like the world’s turned to frost.

“Porchay.” Kim rushes to his side. His chest stings when Chay flinches away from his touch. “It’s me. It’s just me.” Kim tries again, gently brushing his fingers over Chay’s hand. He’s shaking so badly and it kills him. “Chay, come on. You know I’d never hurt you.”

Chay’s voice is soft and broken. “Y-You…all those g-guys you–”

“I know. But I had to.” Kim takes a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see this.” He’s careful as he reaches out with both hands to hold Chay’s face, tenderly turning him to look. Kim reigns in his rage. “You’re bleeding a lot.”

Kim coaxes Chay to stand and guides him further back into the club, away from the carnage. He goes back to the bar and checks under the counter, finding a clean rag and a small first-aid kit that only has antiseptic wipes and a single pack of bandages, then promptly returns to Chay. Chay’s eyes remain downcast, dim with shock. Kim gently takes his chin and tilts his face towards him before proceeding to clean him up. He wipes blood off of Chay’s eyebrow, his nose, his cheek. He dabs the cut then goes back over it with a wipe, finishing by applying the largest bandage he can find and then some. He’ll find something better once they’re out of here.

And all the while, Kim talks. He started shooting guns when he was six. He had to learn how to fight for his life at seven. His first kill was when he was twelve. All the men he’d witnessed being tortured, brutalized, beaten to death. All the despair, hopelessness, desperation, the pleas for mercy. Kim explains everything.

How he’d left home at the age of sixteen to escape from the hell he’d been born into. How he still chose to remain in contact with that world despite that, because he couldn’t forget about his family. How Tankhun had bought him a ukulele when he was a toddler so he’d stop crying. How Kinn used to sing to him when he couldn’t sleep. How music was his salvation. 

How one day, he saw a really cute fan in the crowd who gave three correct answers to a single question about his music videos. How he could never forget his smile.

“I thought it was nice,” Kim says after applying one more bandage. Then his hands fall into his lap. “I was…kind of excited. That maybe I’d see you on campus.”

Chay still isn’t looking at him, but he’s been listening. His eyes become a little clearer.

Kim sighs then continues, “I was suspicious of this guy, Porsche, who’d been assigned to be my brother’s bodyguard for no real reason. I needed to know who he was, if he was a threat. If he’d fooled my father, if he was hiding something. So…” He clears his throat. “So it’s true. The reason I first reached out to you. But what I didn’t expect was…”

Now Chay looks at him, their eyes meeting. They hold each other’s gaze for a long moment. 

“What…did you not expect?” Chay asks quietly, a tinge of hope blending with the hurt. 

At first, Kim can’t find words. He’s too busy admiring how the rich golden sheen of the setting sun streams into the bar and hits Chay just right, dusting his hair, putting a sparkle in his lovely brown eyes, a soft glow upon his warm skin, a shine on his perfect lips. Kim takes it all in, and wonders how Chay is still bothering to sit here with someone like him.

“It’s true that I had ulterior motives,” Kim says. “But what I felt…that was true, too. That wasn’t a lie, Chay.”

“What you…felt?”

Kim takes Chay’s shoulders and leans in, head down. “I was really happy when you said you liked me. So happy it was stupid. The time we spent together meant a lot. It meant everything . I didn’t want it to end but I knew it would eventually because that’s what always happens. Because my life is shit and people always end up getting hurt.” Kim grips Chay. “I knew that. But I’m fucking selfish. I wanted to hold on to you as long as I could.” A dry sob escapes him, one of heartache and bitterness. “The minor family’s gone to war with us. I knew they’d come for you. So I came here to protect you. I told myself I’d always protect you. Because I’m sorry. Because I like you, Chay. I like you so much it terrifies me.”

The words hang in the air. For a minute there’s only Kim and Chay’s breathing and the ambience of the closed bar. 

Kim wants Chay to shove him off in disgust. He wants him to take his revenge and reject him, swear he’ll never want anything to do with him ever again. He wants Chay to laugh in his face and scorn him for being a coward, for being an idiot to think he could fix what he’d done. 

But instead, soft warm hands cup his cheeks. Chay uses his sleeve to wipe some blood off Kim’s face. Kim looks at him but Chay averts his eyes. It’s different this time. This time, it’s that shyness Kim adores.

“...Thank you,” Chay says. “For um…For saving me.”

Another beat of silence.

“I’m sorry again you had to see it,” Kim says, observing Chay’s fidgeting fingers. “Are you okay?” He looks down and quietly asks, “Are you afraid of me?”

Chay takes a deep, trembling breath. After a moment, he admits, “No. I don’t think I’ll be okay for a while.” 

Then he gazes at Kim. Kim, whose music had given Chay a dream. Kim, who was patient and kind. Kim, who kissed him on the cheek, whose heartbeat lulled Chay to sleep that night. Who’d held his hand and embraced him. Kim, who’d broken his heart. 

Who wouldn’t let Chay take drugs while wasted around a bunch of people he barely knew. Who had tapped into the very thing he hated most about himself in order to protect him.

“But I meant it for real when I said…,” Chay takes Kim’s hands, “that I like all of your sides.”

Kim looks at Chay as a blush blooms across his face and tears fill his eyes. Through Chay’s sniffling, a small smile breaks out. Kim’s heart swells and tears of his own gather. He starts berating himself because he shouldn’t be allowed this. He shouldn’t be allowed to feel this happy . But the relieved laugh escapes him. He cradles Chay’s cheek and swipes away a tear with his thumb. His heart sings when Chay holds his wrist and nuzzles his palm.

“I’m sorry that I made you cry,” Kim says. 

“It’s cool.”

“No it’s not. I won’t do it again.”

“You’re doing it now though.”

“I love you.”

Chay’s eyes widened and he goes still. He searches Kim’s eyes, finds them unwavering.

“Kim…”

“I love you, Porchay.” Kim links his fingers with Chay’s and they stand. He leans in so their foreheads touch. “Let’s get out of here.”

✦

✦

✦

Something about seeing Porchay, hair wet and one of his shirts hanging off his skinny frame, sends Kim over the edge. 

Without a word Kim gets up from his bed and stalks towards him, an arm wrapping around Chay’s waist to pull him close. The feeling of Chay’s thin body against him does things to Kim, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself, with Chay , that won’t be bad. So Kim buries his face into Chay’s neck but swiftly realizes that this, too, is a bad idea as the mingling scents of his body wash and Chay’s skin intoxicates him.

“K-Kim?” Chay squeaks, hands going to Kim’s shoulders. Their proximity, the feeling of Kim’s lips and breath upon his skin, makes him flush a deep red. “Um…Kim, what are you doing?”

“I’m just hugging you,” Kim says into Chay’s ear, chuckling when his blush reaches the shell. He kisses it and the kid nearly jumps. Kim snickers into his shoulder. “You’re so cute, Chay.”

“S-Stop saying, and doing, embarrassing things!” Chay yelps, pushing Kim back. They were never physical before, not like this anyway, so Chay doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. But Kim gives him a lopsided grin, his long tousled hair falling over one eye, and he somehow becomes even more handsome. Chay shakes his head. “What’s with you…”

Chay loses his words. Kim cups his cheek and leans in until their lips are a hair’s breadth apart. It’s a question, and Kim waits. Chay counts one heartbeat and answers, inching forward. They close the distance, lips meeting in their first kiss. They break apart for a second to look into each other’s eyes and process. Then they kiss again. And again, and again, and again.

Chay never so much as held a person’s hand (that wasn’t his brother’s) until he met Kim so he’s not sure what he’s doing. He just hopes Kim likes it, and Kim sure as hell does. So much so that soon he’s pressing a little harder, opening their mouths, letting his tongue brush Chay’s bottom lip. The sweet taste of him drives Kim wild. 

Chay breaks away gasping for air. “Kim–”

Kim’s mouth covers Chay’s again and he spins them both around, starts walking him backward. He doesn’t allow their lips to part as they fall onto his bed, Chay laid out beneath him. 

“Mmph…!” Chay goes to push Kim’s shoulders but Kim’s hands wrap around his wrists and pin them down on the bed. He gasps Kim’s name between kisses, moans softly as Kim licks into his mouth, tongue ravaging him. It’s not until Chay feels Kim’s hand slide under his shirt that he finally shouts around the kiss, “Wait!”

Kim’s hand stops immediately and he pulls back. As much as the sight of Chay under him, face flushed, breathing hard, hair a damp halo, and glossy lips swollen, turns him on, Kim doesn’t miss his discomfort. He removes his hand from under his shirt.

“Sorry,” Kim says, catching his breath. He brushes hair out of Chay’s eyes. “I won’t do anything else. Not unless you want me to.”

Chay gazes at him for a moment. Then he goes up on his elbows to give Kim a quick peck on the lips. He runs a hand through Kim’s hair, a million thoughts running through him.

“I-I…It’s not that I don’t want to,” Chay says, unable to meet Kim’s eyes. “I want to. I just…I’ve never…” 

Kim wraps Chay in his arms. He kisses Chay’s neck and nuzzles his shoulder, his heart doing cartwheels. He cradles Chay close, holds him like the precious soul he is. Kim can’t fathom it, that Chay wants him to be his first. The thought almost makes Kim cry. And it also makes his body burn, deep and untamed.

“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.” Kim kisses the bandages on Chay’s forehead. Chay gasps as Kim starts pulling his shirt up. It’s tossed aside and Kim takes a second to ogle Chay’s slender body. He shudders as Kim runs a hand down his chest. “It’s alright. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

The way Chay looks at him, so nervous yet so full of trust, has Kim hurrying to strip off his own shirt. Chay’s eyes glow with longing as they roam all over his body, tight and sculpted with well defined muscle. 

Littered with faded scars. 

Chay sits up and extends a timid hand, his fingers caressing an old cut below Kim’s collarbone. A laceration on his side. Healed gunshot and stab wounds around his shoulders, along his torso. Multiple cigarette burns. Chay chokes back tears as he thinks about everything Kim told him, what Kim had gone through his entire life. How he’d turned to music to be free from it all, to do something else, something better than what was passed down to him.

“I’m sorry,” Chay whispers.

“Hey.” Kim cups his face. “Do you remember what you said to me?” When Chay furrows his brows, he chuckles. “You know…I’ve always thought I was a pretty unlucky guy myself. But it’s like you said.” His fingertips brush beneath Chay’s eye. “Maybe all of the luck I’ve ever had was so I could be here with you.”

Chay’s eyes shimmer.

Kim smiles. “Tonight, let’s just think about us. Okay?”

Us. 

Chay sobs and hugs him tight, the pair of them shivering as their bare torsos touch. Kim squeezes him back.

“Okay,” Chay sighs.

Kim claims Chay’s lips and lowers him back down, their arms still around each other. He pulls away and peppers Chay’s face with kisses, making him giggle. He kisses Chay’s lips one more time before trailing down to his neck, licking and sucking his tender nape. Chay bites his lip, muffles his gasps and moans. Kim’s strong hands leave traces of fire wherever they go as they caress Chay’s body, sliding along his sides, down his stomach, his arms. When they rub over Chay’s nipples, his cry can’t be contained. He immediately covers his mouth, face burning.

What kind of sound did I just make? Chay whines into his hands as Kim doesn’t relent in toying with him. Kim parts from Chay’s neck and kisses down from his shoulder to his chest until closing his lips around one of his nipples, punctuating with a firm suck. 

“Ngahh…!” It pushes through Chay’s fingers as his back arches. Before Chay can seal his mouth again, Kim grabs his hands.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed,” Kim says. “It’s a normal reaction.”

“B-But…But–”

“You know I love it when you sing, Chay.” Kim thwarts Chay’s plan to hide by pinning his hands over his head with one hand. He brings his face close to Chay’s and a sly smile plays on his lips. “So let me hear you.”

Kim thumbs one nipple, brings his mouth down on the other, and Chay keens helplessly. The sound of his cute, sweet voice riles Kim up so much that he growls into a bite, just below Chay’s ribcage. The scrape of Kim’s teeth startles him, and he whimpers as Kim applies a little more pressure, but not enough to hurt him. Then Kim finally releases Chay’s wrists, drags his hand down his lithe arms, his neck, fondles his chest, tweaks Chay’s nipples as Kim works his way downward, and it’s like Chay’s being eaten alive. Kim dragging his tongue down his flat stomach, back up and over Chay’s nipples, then down his chest again. Leaving hungry kisses and sucking bruises into Chay’s heated skin wherever his lips pass, losing himself in the song that is Chay’s every wanting cry of pleasure. Kim closes his mouth over Chay’s hip, nibbles the skin on the delicate dip down further, stopping at the band of his pajama pants. He spies the very obvious bulge and smirks.

“Looks like you’re eager,” Kim says, nudging Chay’s arousal with his hand, to which Chay whines and throws his arms over his eyes.

“Kim!” he exclaims from the sheer embarrassment. 

He takes a sharp breath when he feels Kim’s hands start pulling down the waistband, painstakingly slow. Kim watches the rapid rise and fall of Chay’s chest, how the gorgeous shade of scarlet dusting his neck and shoulders deepens, how he gasps when his hard, leaking cock is finally freed. Kim’s pupils blow wide, mouth watering at the sight. He teases the length of Chay’s cock with the tip of his tongue and Chay stifles a yell with his arm, his back arching beautifully. Kim repeats the motion, tugging Chay’s pants up and completely off as his legs bend from the stimulation. Chay whimpers at how exposed he feels and instinctively goes to cross his legs, to cover himself, but Kim doesn’t let him.

“Don’t hide from me,” Kim says. He settles himself between Chay’s legs, places a kiss on one of his knees, then on his inner thigh, pinching the soft skin with his teeth. Then he sits up to take in the view of Chay lying naked and breathless before him. Perfection. It provokes something primal, and Kim fights the raging desire to take him right there. 

Chay sees Kim’s eyes, dark with lust, and trembles. He’s never felt more vulnerable, more at another’s mercy. And yet, he feels so incredibly safe, protected. Because it’s Kim leaning over him, surrounding him, touching him like he’s porcelain. Because he can feel Kim’s care, see his love crystal clear in the depths of his desire. And Kim sees it, too. Chay’s trust in him. Trust he swears on his life he’ll never break again. Trust he’ll treasure and guard until his dying breath.

Kim sticks two fingers into his mouth, gets them good and coated, before bringing them to Chay’s hole. He slots the tip of his middle finger against it and Chay yelps.

“W-What? Down there…Kim–”

“I need to prepare you,” Kim says, combing his other hand through Chay’s hair then caressing his cheek. He kisses Chay’s temple. “I’ve got you. Just breathe, okay? That’s it.”

His finger starts to breach him. Chay fists the sheets, tosses his head, gasps a string of moans as Kim pushes deeper.

“It f-feels weird…!” Chay says. “Ah…Ah! Hnngh! Mmph!”

Kim captures Chay’s lips in a desperate kiss. He works his finger deeper and deeper with light thrusts until he’s buried to the knuckle, while his other hand massages Chay’s nipples, pinching them between his digits. After several thrusts, Kim starts pushing a second finger in. Chay clings to his shoulders with a panicked gasp.

Kim licks his ear. “Shhh. You’re alright. I won’t hurt you.” The second finger eases in and Chay presses his face into Kim’s neck, a sob escaping him. “You okay? How does it feel?”

“I-I’m scared,” Chay finally manages. Kim digs and curls his long digits deep, brushing that bundle of nerves, and Chay absolutely wails . Kim bites his shoulder. “Ah! W-Wait! I c-can’t. I’m scared…I feel like I’m going crazy, Kim–Ngh! Haaah!”

“You’re not,” Kim says as he thrusts his fingers in and out. He laps at Chay’s neck, groaning at the sweetness of his skin, the saltiness of his sweat. “It’s supposed to feel like this. It’s supposed to feel good. Does it feel good, Porchay? Tell me.” Kim slides one more finger in, all three digits twisting inside him. Chay throws his head back, his cry filling the room, his body convulsing. Kim looks down to see Chay’s cock twitching, his stomach splattered white. He grabs and looks at Chay’s blissed out face, his own cock getting painfully harder by the second. “You came.”

They slot their mouths together. Chay groans into Kim’s mouth as he withdraws his fingers to hold Chay’s head with both hands, tilts him back, seeks to devour him. Once Chay is laying flat on the bed again, Kim sits up. He yanks his sweatpants and briefs down, his rock hard erection springing free, curling against his toned abs. Kim starts stroking himself, slicking his length with precum, eyes black with lust piercing Chay where he lays. 

Chay quivers as his heart skips. He’s so big. How’s it going to fit?

As if he’s read his mind, Kim gives him a tender smile. He takes Chay’s hand and brings his knuckles to his lips.

“I’ll go slow,” Kim says. He kisses Chay’s wrist as he lines himself up. “Tell me right away if you want me to stop. Take a deep breath and relax…Good. You’re doing so good.”

Kim drapes himself over Chay as the tip enters him, pushing in as slow as possible. He stills when the head is in, giving Chay all the time he needs to adjust and catch his breath. Then he presses a little further, a harsh grunt punched out of him as Chay’s insanely hot and tight walls start sucking him in, squeezing Kim’s cock in a scorching pressure that has him seeing stars. Kim kisses Chay’s eyelids, kisses away the tears rolling down his face as he takes him deeper.

“Are you okay?” Kim breathes.

“I…It s-stings a little,” Chay stutters. “But don’t…Don’t–Ah!” The stretch is borderline unbearable and Chay fears he’ll be torn apart, yet the pleasure shooting through him alongside the pain has him yearning for more. And when he looks up at Kim’s face through his tears, when he sees the attentiveness, the kindness, the affection he remembers, when he sees Kim’s desire for him storming in his eyes… Chay wants him. He wants Kim so badly. “Please don’t stop.”

Kim’s heart thunders. He gathers Chay in his arms, smothering his neck and shoulders with heated kisses. He never wants to let Chay go ever again, as long as he lives. Chay hugs him tight, his slender arms wrapping around Kim’s muscular back as he finally buries himself to the hilt inside him. 

“Porchay,” Kim rasps against Chay’s swollen red lips. He pulls out a bit then slowly thrusts back in. He groans into a kiss. Another thrust. “Porchay… You feel so amazing.”

Chay leans his forehead against his, wraps his legs around Kim’s waist.

“I feel so full,” Chay whispers. “Because you’re–ngh–inside me. Kim…”

Kim grits his teeth. The next thrust is a little harder and Chay chokes out a moan.

“You little…” Kim grinds his cock into him, hard and deep. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Then Chay touches his face so gently, like he’s holding a baby animal. More tears flood his big brown eyes. They spill over when Chay smiles. “Chay?”

“I’m so happy,” Chay says. “I’m so happy I met you. Everything, the good things and the bad things. I’m glad they all happened so I could be here with you like this. I don’t regret any of it.” Chay rubs Kim’s cheekbones with his thumbs. “Thank you, Kim. Thank you for liking me. Thank you for wanting me.”

In Kim’s eyes, everything about Chay is glowing. Warm embers. A candle illuminating the darkness. Sunlight, moonlight. This light that decided to come close to someone like him, that chose to shine for him. That’s still shining for him in this moment even though Kim had stupidly tried to snuff him out. 

“I should be saying that,” Kim says, voice heavy with how much he means this. “I never thought someone like you would happen to me. And after what I did to you...” Kim holds Chay’s face. A single tear falls. “Thank you, Porchay, for liking and wanting me. For still liking and wanting me.”

Their tearful smiles become soft laughter and they kiss. 

Kim starts moving, setting a slow, even pace. As the pain subsides and is replaced with overwhelming pleasure, Chay’s fingernails bite into Kim’s back. Kim groans, relishes in the delicious sting of his skin breaking, and starts snapping his hips a little harder. Kim laves his tongue over Chay’s nipples, sucks on the stiff buds. His hand palms Chay’s erection, stroking it in tandem with his thrusts that are quickly losing their rhythm. He sharply pulls back so that only the head is inside then slams back in. Chay moans, raw and loud, as Kim repeats the motion three more times, the bed jostling and creaking with the strength of his thrusts. 

“N-Not like that, Kim,” Chay gasps, then squeals when Kim does it again. He begs between labored breaths,“Kim…! Please it’s too m-much! Ah! Ahh!” Kim’s cock pounds his prostate and Chay screams.

“But I can feel you thrusting back down every time,” Kim says, teeth scraping Chay’s chin. 

Chay turns away, blushing bright. “What are you– AHH –saying?”

Kim grunts as he moves over him and starts picking up the pace, barely pulling out, hips pistoning faster and faster, possessed with unbridled passion as his climax rapidly approaches. The sound of wet, slapping flesh, their mingling ragged breaths, their drawn out moans fills the room like a lewd chorus. 

“Kim, I can’t–I’m about to–”

“Me, too, Chay. I’m close.” Kim licks Chay’s lips.  “Let’s do it together. Come for me.”

With one more powerful thrust, Kim lodges himself as deep as he can with an animalistic growl. Chay’s head falls back and Kim latches onto his neck as he crushes their hips together. Their bodies shudder violently against each other as they come. Kim grinds into Chay as his release coats his walls, flooding him, filling him. He feels the heat of Chay’s cum on his abdomen, the stuttering of his cock. They remain like this, wrapped in each other’s embrace, riding out the wave, breathing between tired, messy kisses. Eventually Kim reluctantly pulls out. The way Chay shudders and the dirty squelch of his cock slipping out of him almost gets Kim hard again. That, and the bite marks adorning Chay’s neck and shoulders. But instead, Kim tucks himself back into his sweatpants and rolls over, flopping down beside his poor lover.

Chay whines at the sudden emptiness he feels and seeks Kim’s warmth, snuggling into his chest, into Kim’s safe strong arms. Kim holds him close, pressing kisses into his hair, whispering sweet nothings as he tangles their legs together. Chay listens to Kim’s heartbeat and almost cries because he’s missed it so much. 

“How was it?” Kim says, fingers stroking Chay’s hair.

Chay blushes and mumbles, “It felt…nice.”

“Just nice?” Kim chuckles when Chay shakes his head and presses further into his chest. “Too cute.”

“Shut up…”

The night settles in, and the room is gradually bathed in soft white moonlight. 

“What’s going to happen tomorrow?” Chay asks softly.

Kim hums. Right. The whole mafia thing. “Honestly…I’m not sure.”

Chay draws small circles on Kim’s chest with his finger. “Well whatever it is, I’m going to face it with you. I won’t let you leave me again. And I won’t let you be alone anymore.”

Kim’s arms tighten around him, heart burning. He knows that Chay knows how vulnerable he is, how little he can do against the dangerous forces that now lurk in the shadows, that will follow him the rest of his life. But it doesn’t matter. Chay just wants to be with him. It’s Kim’s greatest weakness, and all the strength he’ll ever need.

“Okay,” he sighs. He noses Chay’s fluffy hair, breathes in his scent, closes his eyes.

“Kim.”

Kim looks at him. “Yeah?”

“I love you.” Chay smiles. He lifts a hand and strokes Kim’s cheek. “Do you…love me?”

Kim breaths in, gazing deep into Chay’s beautiful eyes brimming with love. Love for him. Love he’ll go to war for. Love he’ll never flee from again even if it kills him.

Kim captures Chay’s lips in a long, passionate kiss.

“I love you, Porchay.”

~

[regretsofalifeandlovelost]

Marriage Therapy

My partner and I have started to do couples counseling again. Really these sessions are much more about unloading all the pent up frustrations and anger now. We unload our hurt and the layers of pain we never deal with. One of the big pain points is his premature ejaculation problems. I ask him why he never put any effort into fixing it early on in our relationship before any sparks got lost. He completely ignores it and continues on. I repeat the question until I finally get an answer, he said that it's just me that he ejaculates so quickly with, I tell him that everyone he's been with has said that he ejaculates too quickly. He then sheepishly agrees still without answering the question.

I then ask him why his odor is so bad, what is it with his cleanliness and body hygiene that even immediately after a shower his cock is stinky despite being circumcised. The therapist interjects and says it's probably diet or a bacterial imbalance.

The session ends early, as we leave I tell him that I need to come by the house to get some things. I follow him from therapy back to the house. As I drive I'm feeling aroused, I am feeling that I have not been fucked in months. As I enter the house It feels like a home that once was. It feels lifeless. My heart races, I feel an apprehension. As I go to the bedroom to grab a few things he follows me in. I close the door behind him and push him down on the bed. I pull his pants off, by the time his shoes are off and his pants on the floor he's hard. His cock looks unusually small against his huge size. I don't care I had removed my underwear in the car and was stroking my hood as I drove. His cock slides in with grace, it's not long enough to hit my a-spot but I find his glands against my g-spot and start to grind. I feel his cock swell and i back off.. he doesn't cum and I slowly build up, repeating the process several times until I orgasm. I then do big sweeping thrusts of my hips, letting him feel his whole cock pound into me. With only a handful of thrusts his balls release all they have to give inside me.

I don't bother to clean up, I grab the thing I needed and leave. in the car on the way back to my sisters I have my legs parted, I can smell the sex and feel the cum. My hand slowly stroking my hood as I drive. I feel liberated and in power, I have control over my life. I feel that by unloading all of that marriage baggage that a weight has been lifted off my shoulders and a dicks a dick.. My mind suddenly flips into a dark spot. I mentally calculate my cycle and realise that with all his cum inside me I am at risk of becoming pregnant. The thought somehow turns me on even though I don't want to have another kid and 100% don't want to have another kid with my partner. It's like a dawning of the truth, something hot about being fucked purely for being inseminated. Like I had taken advantage of him, and I did. I got what I needed, I should have left but I was feeling charitable and let him get satisfaction.

I arrive to my sisters and as I walk to the front door can feel the cum on my leg. It's arousing. I check my phone and see that I had 20 messages from my partner. I don't bother to read them right now. As I close the door behind me I realise that my partners sister is there. My heart races and I feel insanely turned on. We chat, I can feel all the cum oozing out of my pussy and running down my leg. I tell her that I am surprised to see her here. She tells me that she came over to see me, she was worried about me. She felt that she had been ghosted since our lesbian saga. I tell her no, I've just been busy with life and trying to sort things out. It then occurs to me that she's been drinking, she's standing well within my personal bubble. Then she kisses me. I drop what I was holding onto the floor and we make out. We wobbly walk to the bedroom making out. The door closes behind us and she starts removing my clothes. I forget that I have the cum of her brother inside me and running down my leg until she goes down there and goes WTF.. when I realise I rush to clean myself up. She's asking who's cum that is, I can't tell her that she just smelt and saw her brother that would be an immediate stop on me being fucked. She doesn't want to let it slide who's cum it is.. I tell her not to worry.. we make out some more, then I just feel odd.. It doesn't feel right and i have to put a stop to it. She goes mental and storms out.

[vallentinerry]

Morning At The Styles

Hohohoho!! CHRISTMAS IS IN 2 DAYS?? This will be my last post for now then maybe after Christmas or at January ill post the CEO!H fics :)) 

ooh and btw if you didn’t know my wattpad is @scrawny_mf and I post faster there but yeahhh MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE I HOPE YOU ALL FOUND YOUR SUGAR DADDYS AND RECIEVED AS MANY 1D GIFTS YOU CAN I LOVE YOU VERY VERY VERY MUCH *hugs*

River (M) - 17, Dionne (M) - 14, Lovella (F) - 12, Astrid (M) - 10, Athalia (F) - 10

WARNING: body image issues

What a morning in the Styles household is like. 

wordcount: 2k+

[boxer!h masterlist]

5:00 AM

"Harry I appreciate your kisses but I'm this fucking close to punching you in the dick." you warn irritated with your husband waking you up.

"Your favorite feature of me is my dick, please don't bullshit me y/n. Now up you go, we have to live till we're 100 to see if we'll be killed by robots. Come on baby." He says still hovering over you, pressing kisses on your face.

"I hate you so much." you groan placing your head to his shoulder, nuzzling into him.

"You'll thank me later." He gives you one last peck and gets off of you only to pull you up by your hands.

"I'm so tired, H." you sigh standing up from the cozy bed.

"Hm? Talk to me darling." He softly speaks, carrying the chair for you to sit on while he prepares your cleansing wash and workout clothes.

"Work's been draining me lately, just feel tired. I don't feel the passion as much anymore and that makes me sad. Feels like I'm just surviving and not enjoying." You rant sleepily, words muffled by the water as you wash your face.

Harry's younger sister, Stevie is a physical therapist while her twin brother-- Ally is an orthopedic surgeon. When they finished their residency, you created a clinic to work with them and with running the clinic as well as being the head nurse sometimes it can get a little overwhelming.

"Do you need to take a mental health break, love?" You always loved how Harry always valued your mental health.

"No, not yet, 'm just excited for Saturday already." You sigh, putting on your leggings. "Thanks for the outfit choice, bub."

Harry cheekily smiled, he liked dressing you up. "I'm amazing, aren't I?"

"Harry junior is better though, 'm just saying." you tease referring to his cock.

"I thought we agreed on naming her Bowie?"

"Isn't Bowie your left ass cheek?"

"No that's Zeppelin!"

"Um, Harry you named my left boob Zeppelin."

"Wha- No I didn--" His voice were cut off by the sound of the door knocking.

"This argument is not finished mister." you teasingly scold and you watched him exaggeratedly sigh, walking in front of you for a short make out-sesh.

Pushing you against the doorway of the bathroom, you moaned— wrapping your arms around his neck, pushing him closer to your mouth. His hands were situated on your waist, occasionally going lower to grope your butt and rub on your hip bone. "Jump." he mumbles on your mouth.

You heavily sigh in response, jumping up to press your crotch against his lower abdomen. "Fuck, 'm filthy girl getting me hard. Oh fuck--" his voice was cut off when you started sucking hickeys on the curve of his throat.

"Ma! Pa! Let's go! Chop chop on that liver!" You hear Lovella shout at the door pounding more.

"God, she's becoming more like Niall everyday." Harry groans breathing heavily on your shoulder.

"Oh my god please don't say that. You act like Niall hasn't had a threesome with us—"

"Ma! Pa! I'm a busy woman! Time is gold!"

~

You watch in amusement at all of your kids. With River barely awake, lifting weights in skinny jeans— that his father approved of. Dionne was barely breathing as Harry was teaching him how to spar. And you were currently teaching Lovella a good workout for her as she has been obsessed with how she looked recently.

You swore the moment she cried to you saying that she felt insecure of how she looked like it made your heart drop. But you knew that was normal, hell— Harry is the most beautiful person you knew and you would often see him staring at the mirror looking at his tummy with a pout and glossy eyes. So you asked your nutritionist friends on how to lose weight healthily, and what's appropriate for her age.

You were just happy when you saw the small glint in her eyes when she saw the workouts working for with her body.

"I don't get how papa does this as his job. Like who wants to go to the gym willingly."

"Lovella Celestina, I better not hear you talking bad about me or I swear I will twerk on your face everyday as your morning wake up call." He says with a cheeky smile, body all sweaty from .

"Papà, per favore non comportarti come se avessi qualcosa con cui twerkare per cominciare." (Pa, please don't act like you have something to twerk with to begin with) She rolls her eyes grunting a little from the treadmill.

"Lulu!" Harry's jaw slacks while River's eyes snap open to let a small smile dance on his lips while Dee just cackles loudly, covering his mouth instantly. "Baby, is "my ass is bigger than yours" a good comeback to my 11 year old child?" He whispers to you.

~

7:00

Still in your sweaty workout clothes, you were stood at the counter while Harry and the three big kids got themselves ready.

"Mummy, you wanna hear about a little song I made about Astrid's dead parrot?" She asks you with her sat in the counter and eating the remains of their bento boxes you were making for their lunches.

"Of course." you smile as she clapped her hands and big apple cheeks and dimples present. She jumps down the counter and places her Ellie the Elephant that was hand me down by Lulu and got ready to do her dance and song. "Aw Lia."

She clears her throat, eyes all shiny before she starts singing the song. "RIP that parrot aye. RIP that parrot aye--"

"Oh wow! Where did you get that baby?" you felt tears at the back of your eyes. No, you weren't gonna laugh on your god forsaken child's performance. Stop it, Y/N.

"Didi (Dionne) told me that song was vintage so I wanted to make it a little modern." she says confidently.

"Ma, she's joking with you. We know its "RIP that pu--"

"¡Ni siquiera hables! ¡Dionne te matará!" (Don't even speak! Dionne will kill you!) Athalia immediately springs up from her seat and covers her twins' mouth.

"Va te faire foutre." (kiss my ass) Astrid rolls his eyes and scrolls through his vinyl collection to play something.

"Dovevi parlare in spagnolo, scemo--" (You were supposed to speak in spanish, dummy. ) She whisper shouts while Astrid only shrugs and plays the song.

"This one is for the boys with the booming system—"

"Questa è la terza volta che suoni quella dannata canzone, Astrid. Giro. Esso. Spento." (This is the third time you played the damn song, Astrid. Turn. It. Off.) River storms down the stairs with a towel on his hips, and scolds his younger brother with a stern tone.

Astrid only hums, strumming the first chord of his bass guitar.

River only huffs, grabbing Holiday and storming back to his room. He's definitely going to write Astrid in his burn book. Meanwhile, Dionne was dancing to the song and perfectly rapping every line.

+ , +

~

"River, farò tardi! Puoi svegliarti?! Gesù Cristo, ho un test di chimica oggi!" (River, I'm gonna be late! Can you wake up?! Jesus Christ I have a chemistry test today!" Dionne shakes his brother frantically.

Dionne grunted in frustation. Who takes a bath then goes back to bed without putting his clothes back on, at a school morning?! Oh, he was frustrated. He absolutely hated being late, it makes him feel anxious.

"I'm tired and it's winter." River groans out and rolls out of bed with no clothing on.

"Non ho bisogno di vedere il tuo cazzo, ora andiamo." (I don't need to see your dick, now let's go.) You can only imagine the first time Dionne saw his brother naked.

"Sembri mamma, Dee plus t's liberating." (You're sounding like mama, Dee.) River cheekily smirks. Buttoning his button up, and fixing the sleeves of his sweater he sighed.

He just wanted to sleep for fucks sake. He absolutely hated that Dionne was always so uptight. River was never really one to take anything seriously, and just wanted to do whatever made him happy.

Dionne didn't exactly agree with his brother. He wanted everything to be perfect, he depended his value as a person on his grades and praise. He never really cared about his happiness, he just wanted to be the best at everything.

"You're so annoying." Dionne only huffs, trudging down the stairs to prepare the cupcakes he made. It was Freya's birthday today. She was the prettiest girl in school—well for him she is. She is one of the ballet dancers in school, she is Uncle Zayn's second daughter. The first time he saw her, he was so fascinated with the way she twirled around in her pink tutu.

River always said that if you feel like you and that person are the only person in the room, even though you're not then they're the one. Dionne absolutely felt that but romance wasn't really his specialty, it was more of River's. And he always envied that.

"These looks dannatamente delizioso." River grabs one of the cupcakes, unwrapping it and chewing it. "Non così inutile dopotutto, no? You should be a baker." (Not so useless afterall, no?)

"River! No! Give it back!" Dionne seethes angrily at the taller frame.

"It's all gone, see?" He shows the wrapper.

"You're such a dick! I made th-those last night!" He swallows down his tears. He just wanted to please Freya.

"What's wrong?" River's playful glint in his eyes now disappeared and was changed with worry. Yes, he liked to tease people— it was his love language. But he knows when he goes too far.

"Nothing. I hate you so much." He pushes the glasses back to the bridge of his nose and storms out of the living room with one of the cupcakes missing in the box.

"Ugh River? You stole a cupcake from Dee and didn't get me one too?" Astrid groans, punching his older brother's bicep.

River had to control the urge to flipping his brother out and got in his Lamborghini  that he got from his dad's collection after Co writing 3 books as well as writing songs with artists like his auntie Taylor at only 15.

The two never had one hour of peace without fighting. So it wasn't a surprise when Dionne was at the verge of strangling his brother just because who the fuck plays All Too Well at 7 in the morning?

~

"We're going now H!" You call out to Harry as he only hums already in his gym shorts with a pink apron with "World's Best Housewife husband" that the kids bought for him during Christmas, tied around his naked chest.

"Bye! I'll pick you up later, yes?" He looks up from shaking his bum while e was picking up Holiday's poop as The Princess and The Pauper— aka his favorite movie ever, played at the TV.

"Mhm, don't make Liam mad today please." You tease knowing that it was impossible for him.

"Ha ha very funny." He sarcastically says throwing the bird at you.

"Bye!" You shout about to close the door.

"You forgot something!" He calls back, now standing up and walking towards the garage door.

"Hm? What?" You ask looking through your bag.

"Um my kiss? Duh?" He rolls his eyes with a scrunch of his nose.

You shake your head at him but still pressing your lips on his. He caught your bottom lip with his teeth licking it smugly when he saw your cheeks heat.

Yep, he's still got it.

"And tell me you love me." He whispers watching as your lip bounces back to it's rightful place. You look like a fucking a dream.

"I love you, H." you smile laughing a little knowing that he would be sending you the bouquet he always picks out at the garden with a letter of how much he loves you later at work.

"And I love you so very much, my baby." He nuzzles his face into your cheekbone.

"Pa! Astrid just bit me!" You hear Athalia whine.

You groan, "Astrid!"

"She has an annoying face, I can't help it." He only shrugs leaning back on his seat. He loved getting on people's nerves.

"We have the same face!"

"The reason why ma and pa can tell us apart is because obviously I'm the prettier one." Pretty. That was the only description that their parents called them. Never handsome just pretty.

"Ma! Black tights or white?" Lovella storms down the stairs with the two clothing items in her hands.

"God help me." You groan bumping your head at Harry's shoulder.

[thefanbasewhore]

Oh Baby, Baby

Summary || Reader wants a baby, Bucky thinks becoming the winter soldier destroyed any chance for that.

Warning/content || kinda sad in the beginning but HAPPY ENDING, small Drabble, crying etc. Slight breeding kink?, Suggestive, implied smut

Paring || Bucky Barnes x reader

A small smile twitches at the corners of pink, full lips. Stretching the chin of his cheeks, dimples appear under the fullness of coarse thick hair as he hears slow, sluggish foot steps decend the stairs.

There's already a mug of steaming, hot coffee poured on the opposite side of the counter. He smiles as she enters the kitchen, sweater paws curling around the cup to take a sip. Bucky continues chopping an onion, no doubt for the breakfast he has planned, the smell of bacon filling the kitchen.

"Good morning, doll."

She nears the counter, hip to hip as she lifts from her toes to press a kiss against his cheek. "Good morning Lover."

Placing her coffee back to its original spot, she begins to crack the eggs already set out and ready to go, adding some seasonings and cheese before signing. It catches Buck's attention, raising one eye brow to peer up at her. "Is something wrong honey?"

"I want a baby." The words cause the former soldier to freeze, visibly stiffening as his mouth drops ajar. He's stunned, completely frozen under the mercy of her words as the knife falls from his grasp and the counter.

"W-What?" The words are spread out, unsure as steel blue eyes search for meaning in her own, for the lie or joke, but there isn't one.

"I want a baby, Bucky."

The metal appendage of his pointer finger accompanies whirling and clicking of plates as it presses into the red henley, into the muscular swells of his chest. "With me?"

"Well typically wives do have babies with their husbands." The words silence him again rather quickly and it makes her blood cold. He's still frozen in one spot, the bacon in the pan continues to sizzle as he gulps rather loudly. His uncomfortable stance, sad eyes say it all. "You don't want to have a baby with me Bucky?"

"I'm a former assassin, was brain washed for 80 years, not to mention I'm 106 years old. Why would I?"

The words sting, a little harsher then intended but she gets it, bites her bottom lip and refuses to meet his gaze.

Bucky notices the change in body cues, shoulders dropping, lip quivering despite how hard she tries to hold it in. "Honey, I'm sorry, I didnt mean to -."

"No, no, it's fine." She denies as she turns towards the bedroom and dismisses Bucky's touches and words. "I understand, I'm going to go take a shower."

Despite the thick cloud of smoke from hot water and the high pressure through the facet, Bucky sighs hearing the still audible sobs, thanks to super hearing.

***

She doesn't expect him to be sitting on the bed as the thick, hot clouds follow behind her so she chooses to ignore him, walk past without a word. It was still too fresh, she didn't want to talk about it, ruin the chances of Bucky being happy.

This is what he wanted, to be retired, just the two of them on a 100 acre farm, no Hydra, no superhero stuff and of course now coming up on their one year anniversary of being married.

"Why are you ignoring me?" She curls her towel closer as his arms reach out to clasp around her wrists, pulling her between his legs, pressing his weight back into the bed. "Don't be like this."

"I'm not being anyway, just forget about it, I don't want to talk about it." She answers with a huff, despite her words shifts the weight of her hip into his lap. Fingers play with the short brunette's hair, curling the hair at the nape of his neck, trying to calm his pounding heart.

"well I do." He answers, "you're upset."

"Forget about it, Bucky." She presses a sad kiss against his jaw, "It doesn't matter."

"I didn't mean to say it like I did." Bucky explains, lips finding hers with soft pressed apologies, pressing their foreheads together. "It came out wrong, was just caught off guard, sweetheart. The last thing I wanted was to make you cry. I just never thought about it. In the 40's yes, I wanted that but now... I'm just starting to find myself."

"I know, I don't want you to feel bad about it. I understand Buck." Smaller, gentle fingers cup his face, slipping under his jaw until steel blue eyes meet her own. "I shouldn't have even said anything, it's not fair to you. I don't know what I was thinking."

"Stop that." He mumbles against her temple and nuzzles the tip of his nose into her hair, pressing a small kiss there. "It's not unfair, it's normal. I can't blame you for wanting to be normal. I'm anything but, I just don't understand why."

"Why what?"

"Why you would want someone like me. Trust me around our baby, I'm a brainwashed, one hundred year old man."

"Was." She corrected, "was a brainwashed, one hundred year old man, it's been years Buck. It didn't work when Zemo tried or anyone else."

Bucky pauses, eyes fluttering as if he's thinking, guilty eyes not meeting her own. He's filled to the brim with it, it's fiery and pumping throughout his body, warming to the core. She should have these things, a normal husband, not one that wakes up from nightmares every night. He should have been able to drop to his knees and taken her right on the kitchen floor the moment she asked for a baby but he's filled with hear. Absolutely guilt-smashed, tipsy with blurring vision as small tears burn his waterline.

"What if someone comes for me? Hurts it? Or even worse one day he comes back." The emphasis on he makes is heart breaking . The winter soldier still lurking deep inside of him, he can never be one hundred percent cured. The dark memories and nightmares make sure.

"Don't cry Buck, please don't cry. It's okay, it's okay, we don't need to have a baby." Hands cup his cheeks so delicately, like he's a porcelain doll, one of her favorite judging by how her eyes shine. Pressing soft kisses of reinsurance against his jugular, forehead and corners of his lips. "All I need is you."

"You should have normal things. I'm your husband, I should be able to give you this if anything." He argues, sliding her hips closer for she straddles his thighs. Big, strong arms wrap around her body, rest on the posterior surface of her hips. "I want you to have everything. You should have everything, you're so good to me."

"Hey, it's okay. I have you." The tip of his nose leaves a burning trail across the skin of her collarbone and up until he can lay a kiss behind her ear.

"But you got me thinking now...Imagining coming home with you all big bellied, filled with my baby." A gasp falling from her lips as he pushes his hips up into her, the thick line of his erection heavy against her inner thigh. "And I agree, this farm is way too big for the two of us."

"Don't do this just because -."

He silences her with a deep, meaningful kiss, whispering against her lips. "I need to stop letting my old life hold me back. I've always wanted kids, I've always wanted a family." He pauses with another deep press of his lips. "I can't let my fear hold me back. There's nothing I want more then to have a baby with you."

A loud squeal fills the room as Bucky stands up, making sure her arms and legs are wrapped securely around his neck and waist. He nibbles at her skin and ear with a playful laugh, hands falling to cup the round swells of her ass. Her back hits the bed with a 'ooof' and Bucky is pulling the towel away with one swift movement. "Cmere, time to work on making you a mommy."

[formidxble]

summary: eating dinner with your parents and seungmin should not be this hard. maybe you’re just giddy to see your folks again or maybe it’ s because your panties are vibrating. 

pairing: kim seungmin x female reader 

word count: 4.9k 

genre: smut/ pwp and fluff 

smut warning: edging, slight degradation (use of the words slut and whore), use of sex toy, semi-public, softdom!seungmin 

tagged: @moonlit-lixie @lilixeu @meow-minho​

based on this request. this work is also a way of thanking everyone who followed my blog! happy 100 followers to me HAHAHA all jokes aside, thank you so much for the support. i hope to continue putting out work y’all enjoy, and most importantly, i enjoy. again, thank you, from the bottom of my heart!! <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ masterlist 

please don’t interact with this post if you are under the age of 18!

--UNEDITED-- “alright, thanks!” seungmin calls out to the delivery man, hands filled with a package he was waiting weeks for. he was supposed to gift it to you last valentines, but it didn’t arrive in time. now he’s sat in his apartment, wondering what the hell to do with the pair of vibrating panties placed carefully inside the box on his lap. on his bedside table, his phone rings. he reaches over to grab it before pressing the accept button.

“yeah?” seungmin answers. he hears you giggle in response and his heart skips a beat. his eyes travel to the box, wondering when and where he’ll be able to give it to you. there was no special occasion coming up and if he gave it to you randomly, wouldn’t it be weird?

“hey baby,” you greet, “are you busy this saturday?”

seungmin raises an eyebrow as he opens his mouth to speak, “no, babe. what’s up?” he removes the box off of his lap, setting it down beside him on the bed.

“my parents are inviting us for dinner, so i was wondering if you were free.” seungmin’s eyes widen at your words and he looks up at the ceiling, wondering if the gods above heard of his predicament. this couldn’t have come at a better time. he clears his throat before answering.

“of course, i’m free. if mr. and mrs. y/l/n want to see us, then you bet we’re going.”

that saturday night, seungmin retrieves the unopened box from his closet, placing it on top of his bed before opening it. he chuckles to himself as he lays the matching black lace undergarments on his bed. it looked beautiful like this, what more on you? he buries his face in his hands as a blush creeps up on his cheeks. this was new and something the both of you were definitely not used to. you two had talked about incorporating sex toys in your sex life, but no one really took the initiative.

until tonight.

though the undergarments looked heavenly to take off later, the main attraction was the pair of panties.

when seungmin decided to buy you a pair of vibrating panties, he never thought it would be this hard to set up. seungmin always thought that he just had to press a button and it would work, but it turns out that he had to charge the slim, vulva-shaped vibrator that’ll be placed inside the panties. not only that, he had to figure out how to put the vibrator in without worrying that it’ll potentially fall out. it takes him 10 minutes to realize that there is a small pouch in the crotch area of the underwear where he could slip the vibrator in. ah, he thought, that’s where the vibrations come from. seungmin hums to himself when he turns the device on using the remote, buzzing bouncing off of the underwear.

seungmin takes his time to admire the pair of panties as it buzzed. the vibrator was thin enough that it didn’t bulge out of the panties or make it too bulky. the buzzing wasn’t as loud as he thought it would be and that was a good sign. this was your first time with a sex toy and he didn’t want it to be traumatic. most importantly, seungmin didn’t really want your parents to know that he, your boyfriend, bought you a pair of underwear with the thought of using it to get you off in public. he exhales through his nose as he turns the vibrator off.

seungmin folds the undergarments as best as he could and puts it back in its box. he was nervous, but he knows that tonight will be anything but normal. he’ll make sure that it’ll be a night both of you won’t forget. he inserts the box in a small paper bag before making his way out of his apartment. while seungmin drives to your apartment, he busies himself with thoughts of anything else that doesn’t involve his plans for tonight.

you, on the other hand, are busying yourself with making sure you looked good for tonight’s dinner with your parents. you haven’t seen them in so long and you wanted to let them know you’ve been taking care of yourself. of course, there’s also the thought of looking presentable for seungmin, but you know he’ll love whatever you’ll come out in. you didn’t know how long you’ve been standing in front of your closet until you hear a knock on your front door. you groan softly as you make your way to it.

the door opens and seungmin is greeted by the sight of you still in your pajamas. he tilts his head, eyebrows slightly raised. you twirl around playfully.

“you like my outfit, babe?” seungmin shakes his head as he chuckles, stepping inside the apartment and closing the front door behind him. of course he does, no matter how simple and domestic it looked. it wasn’t the outfit he was expecting that you’ll be wearing to dinner, though.

“yep,” he hums as he tries to ignore how heavy the box of vibrating panties is getting in the paper bag, “i’m sure your parents will love it, as well.” it wasn’t the time to get cold feet, not when he’s standing in front of you. he puts the paper bag behind him as he watches you scoff at his remark and make your way back into your bedroom.

“give me a few minutes,” you call out, “i’m going to shower, then we’re out.” seungmin waits for you to close the bedroom door before releasing a breath he didn’t know he was even holding. after a few minutes of pacing around in the living room, he walks to your bedroom, opening the door as quietly as possible. the shower was still running, so it was the only time he can sneak in his gift for you. before you could get out of the shower, seungmin removes the undergarments from the box and unfolds it to put on the bed. he tilts his head to look at his work, nodding after as he reaches out to your bedside table to grab a piece of paper.

“wear this tonight, baby.” seungmin writes. he leaves the piece of paper beside the undergarments before walking out of the bedroom to go to the living room, where he’ll be thinking of his life decisions until you come out again. it doesn’t help that his pants are starting to tent at the thought of you wearing the lingerie he bought for you. seungmin bites his lip when his back makes contact with the couch.

you’re humming a tune to yourself when you walk out of the bathroom. something on your bed catches your eye as you’re making your way to your closet. you gasp when you realize what it was. seungmin bought you a matching set of lace lingerie. you run your hand down the fabric, cheeks heating up as your eyes catch the note he left beside the undergarments.

you lift the bra up by its straps, giggling when you notice that seungmin bought you the right size. he took off tons of your bras before, surely he’ll memorize the size written on the tag of the bra. you remove the towel wrapped around your torso before putting the bra on. it hugged your upper torso perfectly and it held your breasts in place just right. you grabbed the pair of panties, slipping them on. it somehow felt heavier, but maybe it was just the weight of the fabric. you ignore the thought popping up in your head because seungmin couldn’t have, right?

right?

seungmin jumps slightly when he hears the bedroom door open again. the tent in his pants have long disappeared as anxiety took over his brain earlier. to say that he was nervous was an understatement. his eyes take in your figure as you walk over to him, your off-shoulder dress hugging the curves of your body just the way you knew he liked. it wasn’t too revealing and something he could bear throughout the entirety of the dinner. thank god. but one thought stood in his mess of a brain, were you wearing it?

“you really bought me lingerie?” you ask and seungmin nods sheepishly, a hand coming up to the back of his neck. “i like them, they look nice.”

seungmin nods, heart pounding in his chest as he realizes you didn’t know what you were actually wearing. you start walking over to him with a smile and that’s when seungmin decides it’s a great time to let you feel what it is he bought.

you squeal when you feel the soft vibrations between your thighs, legs instinctively closing together as you hunch over to grip the couch. you look up at seungmin, slightly glaring at him when you finally comprehend the situation. your previous thought of seungmin not being able to purchase sex toys? vanished, gone with the wind.

seungmin laughs at your reaction as he moves in closer to you to hold your hand. he was no longer nervous because you seemed to be enjoying it, judging from the way your body reacted with every vibration flowing through you. he watches you as you bite your lip.

“do you like your surprise, sweetheart?” you gasp when he increases the vibrations, squeezing his hand as you struggle not to moan. seungmin puts a finger under your chin, lifting it up so your eyes meet. you look into his eyes, trying to find some sort of answer for why he was doing this to you, minutes from the dinner with your parents. the people who raised you, the people who saw you grow up. he blinks.

“speak when spoken to, babe.”

you inhale sharply before saying, “yes, i do.” seungmin smiles at your response as he steps away from you. you were going crazy, but at least he decreased the speed. you couldn’t believe he actually pushed through with the idea of bringing in sex toys in your sex life. it wasn’t a bad thing, you just didn’t expect he’d be the first one to initiate it.

“here’s what we’re going to do tonight, baby,” he starts, bringing forward the hand that was behind his back, remote in hand, “you’re going to wear this to dinner and i will not hear a moan,” seungmin moves torturously close to you and his fingertips graze your collarbone, “a whimper, or even begging from you. you will continue on with dinner as calmly as possible.”

“you’re my whore,” you moan softly at his words, watching as his finger hovered over the increase button, “but, we don’t want your parents knowing, hm?” you shake your head immediately and he hums in approval. you squeeze your legs together as the soft vibrations continued their assault on your clit and on your folds.

“good,” seungmin whispers, turning the vibrator off completely. you almost whine at the lack of movement between your thighs, but you knew better than to complain. you straighten your back and clear your throat to bring yourself back to the present. your head was already a mess and this was only the start of what he was planning. seungmin grins, handing out his other hand as the other pockets the remote.

“you ready to go?” you roll your eyes at how upbeat he was. it’s like he didn’t tease you earlier. you nod, nonetheless, thanking him when he opens the front door for you.

thankfully, the car ride to your parents was smooth. seungmin didn’t turn the device on at all and you were thankful because you would have came more than once in the passenger seat. it scared you, however, because that would only mean that he’ll be turning it on during dinner, during conversation. you almost didn’t want to step out of the car, but here you were, standing in front of your parents’ house and waiting for them to answer the door.

“y/n and seungmin!” your father greets as the door opens. seungmin, the bastard he is, turns the vibrator on its lowest setting when you lean in to give your father a hug. behind you, seungmin swallows as he notices your legs trying to squeeze themselves together. only the two of you knew what was happening and that makes the whole situation hotter than he could have ever imagined. both of you can get caught any moment, but it doesn’t really affect his decision when he increases the speed slightly as you hug your mother.

“come in, come in!” your mother smiles, motioning for the both of you to come inside. your legs are already feeling weak, the vibrations continuing on your folds and on your clit. seungmin’s right beside you, putting an arm around you to support you as you both walked in your parents’ house, the house you’re about to desecrate even if you’re just going to be sitting at the dining table. you face turns red at the thought and it turns redder when seungmin leans in to whisper.

“remember what i said earlier, baby. be a good girl.”

“the food’s not yet done cooking, but please,” your mother hums as she walks into the kitchen, “make yourselves at home!” you smile at her to try and get rid of the redness on your face. you decide to sit down on the living room couch as the scent of your dinner flows through the room. you weren’t hungry for that, anyway. you were merely after some sort of release and you knew that will satisfy all your needs tonight.

but this night has only just begun and you knew you were going to be screwed by the end of it, both literally and figuratively.

sitting down while the vibrator was on proved to be a bad idea as it presses on your clit twice as stronger. you grip seungmin’s knee when he sits down beside you and he doesn’t give you as much as a glance and you notice his hand is in his pocket. before you knew it, the vibrations have increased. you lean back to rest your back on the couch, but it doesn’t help either. the angle only doubles the pressure, hitting your nub in the most perfect of ways. you scream internally when your father stands in front of the couch, a glass in hand.

“was the ride here okay? traffic’s been awfully bad today,” you father mentions before taking a sip of his drink.

“yes, thankfully it was, sir. the road’s have cleared up when we left her apartment,”seungmin grins, turning to look at you as you struggled to keep your composure. “but traffic has always been a problem here, so i guess it’s expected.”

your father nods, eyes glancing at how stiff you were. nevertheless, he opens his mouth again to say, “i think the construction of the new shopping center is causi—“ his words enter one of your ears and exits the other.

you’ve always known how much your father excelled in talking about the most mundane of things, but it was only tonight that you realized that he went on so many tangents that the main subject of the conversation seemingly just vanishes into thin air. it’s a talent, you think, how he bounces off of one topic to another. in other days, you would appreciate it, but right now? your pussy was throbbing along with the vibrations of your panties. you wanted nothing more than to end this conversation.

“—y/n?” your father takes you out of your trance and you smile, even though your body has become uncomfortably hot and your pussy is dripping your juices onto the fabric.

“yes?”

“you’ve been awfully quiet, are you alright?” you nod immediately in response, grip on seungmin’s knee tightening as he increases the speed again. you hiss softly and seungmin covers it up with a cough.

“of course, i am,” you answer, shifting in your seat to adjust yourself and hopefully lessen the pressure on your clit. “why wouldn’t i be?” seungmin ups the speed again and you fight the urge to hunch over or even squeeze your legs together as you feel your first orgasm creeping up. you close your eyes as you take a sharp inhale.

before your father could reply or even say anything about how weird you were acting, you hear your mother calling him over to the kitchen to help her set the table. your father mumbles a quick sorry to seungmin, stating that they’ll continue the conversation in a while. seungmin grins as he nods. he turns to you after forever, gaze burning your skin.

“what was that?” he whispers harshly. you throw your head back, lower lip bit to keep yourself from moaning. “i thought i told you to be a good girl.” you scoff at his words as your chest starts to heave. god, you were so near and if seungmin keeps this up, you’ll—

and as fast as your orgasm was approaching, the vibrations are gone. you lift your head up in surprise, your grip on seungmin’s knee loosening. little did you know that this will be the first of many stolen orgasms from you. before you could reprimand him, he leans in close to you.

“such a slut, hm? so eager to cum so quickly,” you shiver as you hear a growl in his words. you straighten your dress as you try to bring yourself back to reality. your pussy was absolutely soaked, throbbing with no abandon and you wanted nothing more than to cum.

“there are consequences for the actions you choose to take, sweetheart.”

you hear your mother’s voice calling out for the both of you, saying that the dinner’s ready. seungmin’s the first to stand, holding out a hand for you to support you as you stand. your legs fail on you as you stumble into him once you’re off the couch. before you could recover, seungmin pulls you into his chest, whispering, “be a good girl and you’ll get to cum however many times you want.”

you swallow, nodding as he leads you into the kitchen. you give your parents the sweetest smile you could muster up, thanking seungmin as he pulls out the dining chair for you. such a gentleman, even if he’s got you wrapped around his finger. you sit beside him, but before your ass even hits the seat, the vibrations are back up again and even though they’re in the lowest setting, the knot in your stomach threatens to come back as quickly as it disappeared earlier. you clear your throat as you push the dining chair in towards the dining table.

seungmin keeps the vibrations at its lowest as he and your father talk about whatever it was they found fascinating earlier. he increases the speed once all the attention turns to you in the middle of the meal.

“so, how’s school, my love?” your mother starts, “college must be stressful this time of the year.” you nod in response, your brain failing to make up words as it focused on the vibrations all over your cunt.

“it could be worse,” you manage to say, grabbing a mouthful of food to shove into your mouth to prevent further conversation. seungmin increases the speed of the vibrator and you almost choke on the food in your mouth. in the corner of your eye, you see him smirk ever so slightly. damn him.

“oh! i remember you telling me about your big project. how’s that going?” your mother asks after a short silence.

a complete opposite of your father, your mother is. if your father excelled at small talk, your mother excelled at talking about the most extensive of subjects. you groan internally as you struggle to make up a coherent story without a moan leaving your lips once you open them.

“a-ah, it’s been alright, mom,” you try to say, your voice now higher than usual as you feel an orgasm coming up again. “same old, same old, you know?” you put down your spoon to grip the side of the chair you’re sat on as you try to keep yourself grounded. you were not about to have an orgasm in front of your parents, but fuck did this toy feel good on you. you put your pointer finger on top of your lips, your thumb under your chin as you try to focus on the events around you.

“you could elaborate more on that, y/n. we haven’t seen each other for so long,” your father laughs. you close your eyes as you shift on your seat. you chuckle at his words, removing the fingers over your lips to be able to talk to your parents.

“it’s, um, nothing special, really. my group mates have been cooperative so far and—“ you’re cut off when seungmin puts the speed on its highest. if you could take him to hell, you would. you most definitely would. your pussy is screaming for release and you didn’t know if you could hold back. fuck it, right? if you were cumming, you-- your orgasm’s robbed from you again, the second time tonight, and you wonder if you’ll be able to live after tonight. you let out an exasperated sigh, but you cover it up with a cough as you struggle to continue your sentence from earlier. “um, the teachers have been kind enough to let us borrow some relevant materials from them.”

“they should have offered it to you, students, in the first place, right seungmin?” your father laughs. seungmin merely laughs along, putting down his fork on the plate to put his hand on your thigh. his contact with your skin electrifies you and you shiver. you shift in your seat again, adjusting yourself as you feel yourself dripping even more. your heart was pounding and your breaths were labored, but your parents didn’t seem to notice that their daughter was going absolutely crazy. high off of a high she was trying to reach, but couldn’t seem to.

you feel your throat tightening up when you feel the vibrations on your clit again. you couldn’t stand edging anymore. your cunt was starting to ache now and any sort of self-restraint you once had was now gone and has been replaced with animalistic thoughts of seungmin and what you’d let him do to you once you get home. this dinner couldn’t be any more slower. you lower your head to stare at the floor, biting your lip to keep yourself from crying when seungmin increases the speed again.

“okay, who’s up for dessert?” your mother asks cheerily. “i prepared a chocolate mousse that you guys might like.” your father claps his hands together, a smile on his face.

“you’ll enjoy it, guaranteed. y/n’s mother makes great desserts,” he tells seungmin. seungmin chuckles in response as he squeezes your thigh under the table. “i’m sure i will, sir,” seungmin smiles, “i’m actually craving some sweets myself.”

your pussy clenches as he speaks. this was seungmin’s effect on you. even if what he said didn’t have anything dirty attached to it, you couldn’t help but whimper at the thought of him giving you what you wanted, the sweet pleasure of releasing all over your panties.

seungmin increases the speed again when your mother asks you if you can help her get the mousses out of the freezer. tears well up in your eyes as you feel another orgasm coming up. you didn’t know if seungmin was about to give it to you, but you wanted nothing more but to get to where you needed to be. your walls pulse in anticipation for the surge of your juices, but as expected, seungmin turns the vibrator off for the third time tonight, successfully edging you again. you let out a loud whimper now and seungmin squeezes your thigh. your parents notice, much to your dismay.

“y/n, baby, is something wrong?” your mother questions, moving closer to you. you shake your head as you shakily try to answer, another whimper coming out when seungmin turns the vibrator on again.

“my—my stomach hurts,” you sob softly. it was a lie, of course, an excuse to get you out of the room. you push yourself out of the dining table, legs slightly shaking at the intensity of the vibrations assaulting your pussy. you feel seungmin’s arm wrap around your shoulders to support you.

“i’ll assist her, please don’t worry,” seungmin nervously chuckles as he leads you out to the bathroom around the hall. you hear your mother call out about the medicine cabinet having some painkillers. the pain you felt now couldn’t be cured with painkillers. it could only be cured by seungmin, the man who put you in this position in the first place.

the moment the both of you reach the bathroom, seungmin pushes you onto the wall as you struggle to close the door. he suddenly puts the vibrations at its highest, making you hold onto him as you bury your face in his shoulder. you’re gasping his name, moaning incoherently into his shoulder as you try to reach the peak you’ve been trying so hard to reach.

“look at you, such a slut for me,” seungmin groans softly into your ear, “gripping onto me like your life depended on it.” you moan brokenly, feeling another orgasm making its presence known and you find yourself begging him to make you cum, over and over again.

“god, you almost came out there,” seungmin chuckles, “such a whore, so desperate to cum even if it meant letting your parents find out.”

you feel tears start to flow out of your eyes as you bite your lip to keep yourself from making any sort of noise that could be heard outside. you find yourself bucking your hips up to get more friction, just for something that can help you cum quicker. seungmin smirks, putting his hand under your dress to cup your pussy. the vibrations grow stronger and you throw your head back, mouth falling open as you reach out for something to hold onto. the knot in your stomach threatens to break and you pray to whatever gods there were that seungmin’s going to give it to you, finally.

“does my whore want to cum for me? make a mess all over her pretty lace panties?”

you breathe out his name as you nod quickly. seungmin smiles as he says, “cum for me.”

and you do. you’re arching your back off of the wall and you feel your chest collide into his as you continue to hold onto him for support. you see stars as you feel your juices flowing out of your pussy as the vibrations continue to wreck all that you were and all that you will ever be tonight. you’re grinding yourself onto his hand as you ride out your high.

seungmin grabs the remote in his pocket with his free hand, slowly bringing down the speed to help you come back to your senses. you’re breathing into his chest after, the tears from earlier drying up on your cheeks. the feeling of such an intense orgasm flows through your body and you shiver. seungmin rubs small circles into your back, pressing soft kisses onto your forehead as you continue to come down.

“are you okay, sweetheart?” seungmin asks after turning the vibrator off. you nod, words not being enough to describe what you were feeling at the moment. you raise your head to look at him and he grins at you. 

“you seemed like you had fun,” he teases softly. you playfully push him away, adjusting yourself in your panties. you scrunch your nose when you feel how wet you were, the remnants of your first orgasm staining your fingertips. you wipe it off on your dress.

“of course, i had fun, asshole,” you mumble. before he could respond, you hear a knock on the bathroom door, making you both freeze. you both look at each other, panicked. did they end up hearing what the both of you were doing in the bathroom? if so, you’re both fucked.

“y/n, seungmin,” your mother’s voice rings in the bathroom, “i brought some water. y/n might need it.”

both of you sigh in relief. seungmin leans in to steal a quick kiss from you before moving away and twisting the door knob so he could go out to meet your mother. he closes the door behind him as he steps out.

“how is she?” your mother worriedly asks, eyebrows pushed together in concern. seungmin grabs the glass of water from her and he gives her a sympathetic smile. “seems like the food didn’t go down as quickly,” seungmin says and your mother lets out a sigh as she puts a hand on her waist. seungmin swallows, subtly looking down at the middle of his thighs to check if the tent on it is as obvious as he feels it to be.

“well,” your mother huffs, “thank you for taking care of her, seungmin.”

moments from tonight flash in seungmin’s mind as he smiles, eyes crinkling at the sides. he tilts his head as he nods. he really did take care of you tonight, just not in the way your mother thought.

“you’re welcome, mrs. y/l/n. you can trust me to take care of your daughter.”

[miyaagis]

five hundred

+ pairing. miya osamu / fem reader

+ genre. dark

+ word c. 886

+ warnings. eating disorders, anorexia, yandere themes, and a bit of smut

+ author n. @shoyokuns u opened the gates of hell, i hope u r proud<33

starving yourself while having osamu as your boyfriend is complicated. somehow, he always seems to have food around, but you guess that’s something to be expected from someone who owns an onigiri shop.

most of your dates consist of going to new restaurants and trying out new food. if he feels like treating you, he’d buy your favorite pastries and drive to your home; smiling when you accept his present with a radiant smile.

you could say food is osamu’s love language.

it’s easy to pretend everything’s fine. he doesn’t see anything wrong whenever you claim to be full after barely eating a thing from your plate because, in his mind, girls tend to have a smaller appetite, right? instead, he’d eat whatever you left, which is a win-win for you both.

it's also kind of motivating for you. observing the way his eyes widen as his fingers wrap around your wrists, the gap between them and your bones amazing him.

“your wrists are so skinny,” he says in surprise, kissing your thin hand before hauling you onto his lap, “you are so tiny!” 

the compliment makes you smile, but you roll your eyes as you try to wave it off.

“no, i’m not.”

—

when things get heated, osamu’s hands always go to your butt, squeezing the flesh and pulling you towards him.

“i love your ass,” he murmurs against your mouth, making you laugh as he kisses your lips repeatedly; smiling against them.

however, you feel conflicted when he makes those comments. on one hand, you wonder if he notices how smaller your butt is compared to his ex’s. but on the other hand, you know you aren’t skinny enough to feel this way—at least not yet.

the feel of his hands traveling up your waist snaps you out of your thoughts, making you immediately suck your stomach in. 

“so pretty,” he murmurs, kissing your neck and then ghosting his lips over your collarbones, “my pretty little girl.”

and with that, you know you’re on the right path.

—

it’s not until you’ve been together for a while when you start refusing his food—his presents.

“i’ve told you not to give me food anymore,” you sigh exasperatedly, “i’ve gained so much weight since we started dating!”

and you have. the bliss of being in love made your resolve crumble a bit, gaining some of the pounds you had worked so hard to lose by constantly starving yourself.

“what are ya talkin’ about? ya look just fine to me,” one of his hands goes to your ass while the other cups the side of your face. he pulls you close until your chest presses against his, “makin’ me hard just by feeling your hips against mine.”

osamu’s hands travel over your body until they settle on your hipbones, rubbing your front onto his erection and trailing kisses over your shoulder. 

“that’s because i worry about what i eat.”

numbers cloud your mind, your eyes staring at the food sitting on the table in front of you and mentally counting up the calories.

200 for the cup of rice, 100 for the boiled egg, 250 for the avocado plus the drink which has around 120–

a moan breaks from your lips as you feel him bite down on your shoulder, his breaths becoming uneven, heavier.

“stop thinkin’ so loudly, doll.” 

he murmurs against your skin, his hands massaging your ass and quickening his pace; rutting his hard cock against you. 

“i-i’m not eating that. it’s a calorie bomb.”

you already went over your calorie limit, five hundred calories per day, and he expects you to eat that? he’s driving you insane, and he has no idea.

“mhm, have it your way,” he pushes you off of him so he can stare down at you, his lips twitching up into a lazy smile, “but you’ll be eating my cock instead.”

—

weeks later you look radiant during the opening of the second onigiri miya shop. a smile adorns your face while a cute dress shows off your thin body.

atsumu jokes about how one day you’ll disappear as he lifts you from the ground, hugging you tightly and becoming slightly concerned at how light you are.

you behave relatively normal for the rest of the day, eating onigiris and drinking a bit. 

osamu smiles when he sees you enjoying yourself, joking about how weird your appetite is and confirming you how clueless he is—or so you think.

because he knows.

he knows you starve yourself for days, and he enjoys it. he loves being the one you run to when you’re cold and ask for his sweater as you shiver, your hands cold and nails tinted blue.

you might be too dumb to notice, but he indirectly pushes you to keep doing it. praising your frail-looking body as he fucks you just so he can run his hands over your bones. loving the way your thin form seems to be on the verge of ripping apart as his cock pounds relentlessly into your drenched little cunt, making his head spin and his cock twitch inside of you.

you could be starving for days but you'd never refuse him, his cum being the only thing in your empty stomach. 

osamu knows you’re sick, and he absolutely loves it.

[whythinktoomuch]

recovered in time

(pt. i)

“From what I can tell, the implant seems to be interrupting the connection between your visual cortex and your emotional center,” Brainy says, eyes narrowed in concentration, two fingers pressed against the incision point at the base of Kara’s neck. “As well as inhibiting your frontal lobe and sending distress signals to the amygdala.” 

“What does that mean?” Kara asks. 

“It means that... you weren’t feeling like yourself,” Alex says, and Kara nods hesitantly at that. 

“So, can you rid of it or not?” Alex asks, fixing Brainy with her most hardened stare. 

“I’ve already determined five different ways to extract the device—”

“Great! So, we can—”

“—but none that wouldn’t immediately prove fatal or result in permanent brain damage.” 

Eventually, Alex releases a long-suffering, shuddery sigh. “... You could have fucking led with that.” 

“I did feel like myself though...” Kara interjects, suspending what was surely about to result in another very unproductive argument. “And I still feel like myself now. It’s just...” She ducks her head, fiddling with the sleeves of her shirt, already frayed from anxious attention. “... I felt so alone? Like, I’d been abandoned, or was suddenly in a world where I’d lost everyone all at once. Again.” 

Kara shifts uncomfortably in her seat, now able to feel everyone’s eyes on her, burning holes into her skin. She has long since traded in her super-suit for comfy clothes, and her scarf has been upgraded to a pair of heat vision resistant blackout goggles, but it would take more than 24 measly hours for her to adjust to, well... everything. 

“You’re not alone though,” Alex says, giving Kara’s knee a firm squeeze as if in reminder. “You know that, right?” 

Kara rubs at her nose, sniffling herself back into some semblance of composure. “Yeah, I know.” 

But of course, knowing something hardly ever outstrips the feeling of it, and Kara kinda just wishes that she still had Lena’s scarf on her. 

//

“Hey Lena,” Kara calls out softly from the bed. She doesn’t lift her head from her pillow, but still offers a small wave in greeting. 

“What gave me away?” Lena asks, and it’s almost playful, which makes everything that much easier. 

“Well... Pretty much everything, actually.” 

“Ah.”

Then the smell hits her, overwhelming her senses in an unexpected rush of heat and spice. Kara sits up right away, startled. “How did you...” is all she manages to get out, then pushed into her hands is a considerably sized takeout box of potstickers. 

“I wanted to surprise you, so I might have created a hermetically sealed lunchbox just to sneak these in,” Lena says, and Kara’s already laughing softly. “The food’s still good though! I literally just slipped them inside right before walking into the building, so...” 

“... Thank you,” Kara says. She inclines her head to the spot next to her, and feels the bed sink with Lena’s weight accordingly. 

Kara starts eating, but does so with only one hand. The other just fidgets at her thigh, tugging at her sweatpants, lying in wait so impatiently. Then Lena takes the hand and holds it firmly in her own, and finally, it feels like Kara can breathe freely again. 

“I never thanked you,” Kara says, “for, you know... everything.” 

“You already did,” Lena reminds her, squeezing Kara’s hand. 

“I... did?” Kara feels Lena nodding beside her. “Okay... so then, why does it feel like I still have so much left to owe you?” 

Lena tries to hold her breath quietly, but Kara hears it; of course, she hears it. “I can’t answer that for you.” 

A couple of hours later, when Alex pops into the room for her usual check-in, she stumbles upon an unexpected sight: Lena sitting up on the hospital bed, her legs tucked beneath the sheets as she answers emails on her phone, and Kara fast asleep, curled up around her. 

Kara’s still holding Lena’s hand, her face buried in Lena’s shirt where it smells most like her, apparently, besides her hair. 

Lena blushes a little, but can’t find it in her to regret her position. 

//

“Alex says it’s because I didn’t see your face,” is the first thing Kara says the next time Lena visits. “I pretty much saw everyone else’s, but... never yours. So, I’ve imprinted on you, or something.” 

Lena recovers quickly, “Well... what do you think?” 

“I don’t know,” Kara admits, running her fingers down the back of her neck, feeling the tender skin still raised in jagged lines. “There’s still so much I feel like I can’t trust right now.” 

“But you trust me...” 

“Yeah.” 

Lena carefully cradles Kara’s hand in both of hers, and it feels like a thank you of sorts. Then Kara draws their joined hands closer and closer, pressing her lips gently to Lena’s knuckles, and sighs in a way that could only ever be an expression of deep gratitude. 

//

Kara’s days all seem to unfold the same way, with Alex and Brainy running tests, Lena stopping by once per day for company, and Kara just trying to break up the monotony of it all with podcasts, books on tape, and tossing a tiny bouncy ball around the room to test her reflexes. 

For that last one, she has to stop the moment she hears Alex approaching her room, of course, because of all the broken glass and knocked over plants, and such. 

Until one day, she overhears a couple of DEO agents discussing some urgent mission—not exactly a rare occurrence, given her super-hearing, but she perks up, ears honing in at the mention of Lex Luthor. 

But when they also mention how Lena might be in danger, Kara is already out of bed and flying out the window.

Kara hasn’t flown since donning her blackout goggles, but she remembers enough to travel at a height that would be safe from any threat of collision. And before long, she’s hurtling straight for the source of all the distant commotion now pounding in her ears. 

She practically crashes in landing, the earth cracking beneath her bare feet. She whips her head toward where Lena’s heartbeat is fluttering the loudest, then hears low chuckles coming from the same direction. 

“You’re all so pathetic and predictable,” Lex crows. “At least try to make it somewhat of a challenge for me. God, it’s all just too easy.” 

“Kara, get out of here!” Lena’s voice shouts out to her, muffled and desperate. “It’s a trap!” 

But Kara takes a step toward them anyway, and immediately, the entire world seems to scream in protest. 

Kara falls to her knees, hands clapping over her ears but to no avail. The excruciating sound is coming from her own head, akin to hot spikes scraping at the inside of her skull. She calls out to Lena, but can’t even make out her own voice over the pain. 

She crumples over, helpless, her teeth gritted as she pushes her face into the dirt and shakes uncontrollably. She knows she has to get up; she’s a sitting duck like this. She can’t save Lena like this. 

And so, Kara does the one thing that she can do. 

She rips the goggles off her face, hurling them somewhere behind her, and jerks her head up. 

She sees a blur of colors, then a single hand outstretched towards her, clutching onto something silver and vaguely rectangular. 

She fires a burst of heat vision right at that hand, and feels the back of her head explode. 

//

“Man... she couldn’t just put them down gently?” mutters a voice that’s not unfamiliar. “She just had to throw the goggles like a goddamn shot-putter or something? These things cost a fortune!”  

“All right, that’s enough, Demos,” says Alex, a much more familiar voice. “I’ll worry about the budget, okay? You just get everyone else back to headquarters.”  

“’M’sorry,” Kara says, or at least she tries to say. “My bad...” Her eyes still shut tight, she flashes a thumbs up, then lets her arm flop back down to the ground. Alex stops her when she attempts to sit up. 

“Hey, not so fast, you jerk,” Alex says, somehow keeping Kara grounded with a single hand pressed against her shoulder. “We’re getting a stretcher for you.” 

“I don’t think I need a stretcher.” 

“Yeah, well... nobody asked you,” Alex sighs, before grumbling, “God, what’s taking them so long? Ugh, hang on... Hey, can you watch her? I’ll be right back.” 

Lena’s there now, and Kara can actually feel herself grinning without even meaning to. “No, don’t... You shouldn’t have come, Kara.” But there’s a smile in Lena’s voice, and Kara’s grin grows wider for it. “I’m serious!” 

“Okay, me too.” Kara then winces as a sharp pain gradually surfaces, trickling into reality. “The back of my head is killing me...” 

“Yeah, you’re bleeding.” 

Kara scoffs. “I don’t bleed; I’m Supergirl.” 

“Okay, Supergirl... but somebody got blood all over my shirt, and it sure as hell isn’t me, so...” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Then check for yourself.” 

Kara goes rigid, her humor dashed and her brow furrowing heavily.

“... You know I can’t do that.” 

Soft fingertips brush down Kara’s face, tucking her hair behind her ear so tenderly. “Listen,” Lena says. “You destroyed Lex’s transmitter, along with most of his right hand, and I think you blew out the implant in your head in the process as well.” 

There are thoughts then—the kind that Kara is unwilling to say aloud lest they develop reasons to be true. Thoughts like, what if the explosion damaged parts of her brain permanently? What if it severed that neural link between her eyes and everything else for good? And, how can she risk losing the one person who she believes to be absolutely, 100% real? 

Lena draws Kara’s attention with a gentle hand squeeze. “Hey, where’d you go?” she asks softly.

“I’m still here,” Kara says. “Still just right here.” 

But Lena seems to understand Kara’s concerns, unvoiced or not, because she leans a bit closer and asks, “Do you trust me...?” 

And, yes; yes, she does.  

With a deep breath filling out her lungs, Kara slowly opens her eyes. Everything’s a blur at first, just like before. But then little by little, bit by bit, the night sky comes into focus. She stares up at the darkness, counts as many stars as she can to put off the inevitable. 

Then her hand is being tugged and squeezed in the gentlest reminder, so she turns her head, blinking her eyes in preparation before looking up to see Lena Luthor smiling down at her. 

“Hey,” Kara says. 

“Hey yourself,” Lena returns. 

Kara nods thoughtfully, then gestures to Lena’s shirt. “Sorry, but I can’t afford dry cleaning,” she says, squinting at the various splashes of red—light but unfortunately prominent against the very white material—and Lena just laughs and laughs. 

[lesbobiwan]

Okay, so, Could you do prompt #69 with Padmé?

Once again, congrats on 100, Honey!

thank you!!!! and ur gonna make me act up with this mommy kink and padmé i swear to god

#69: "Come here, baby, let Mommy take care of you." + Padmé

warnings: mommy kink, wlw, sugar mommy Padmé, body worship, mirror sex, female reader, reader receiving oral

You don't think you've ever been miserable like this.

The whole day has been nothing but rude costumers and even ruder bosses. You are one strong gust of wind away from bawling your eyes out and not even feeling embarrassed over it.

You just want to go home and see her.

You hand the cab driver his ridiculously over-charged fee, not that it matters much — it's not really your money — and trudge past the Coruscant Guard member that stays outside the Senate apartments that Senators and the like will stay at when deliberating on a bill.

His helmet tips to you in greeting, and you offer him a tired wave and a not-all-there smile before entering the elevator.

Your body moves on autopilot. Bone-tired fingers press the correct button and your body sways with the movement of the elevator as it begins its ascent.

The elevator doors slide open with a faint ding that echos through the empty room.

It's late. Realistically, you know that she's probably in bed, hair already taken out of her elaborate braids and headpieces even though that's one of your favorite parts of staying the night at this apartment.

Your feet carry you on the familiar path to the master bedroom, where a bed fit for... well, a queen, is pressed against the back wall.

There, in the middle of the bed, is —

"Padmé," you breathe.

The sight of her is like a weight lifted from your shoulders. The sword that's been hanging over your neck since the sun rose vanishes from sight.

Padmé's face contorts into a frown and she sits up against the pillow propped up on the headboard. She sets aside the datapad in her lap. Your name leaves her lips in the sweetest of whispers, and you sway on your feet at the sound of it.

Fuck, it's so nice to be home.

"I had a really bad day," you mumble, scuffing your feet against the fine carpet.

Padmé pulls back the thick blanket and holds her arms out. "Come here, baby," she coos, "let Mommy take care of you,"

A shudder wracks through your body and your eyes flutter shut. Is it that obvious what kind of mood you're in?

You're straddling her lap with your face buried into her neck between one blink and the next.

Her hands, so slim and delicate, thread through your hair and scratch gently at your scalp. "What do you need, baby?" she whispers into your temple.

"Please, just..." your hips begin to move against hers, "take care of me?"

One of Padmé’s hands slip from your hair to grab at your hip in a surprisingly strong grip. "Take care of you?" She repeats, thumb swiping across your skin.

Under her grasp, your skin prickles in anticipation. Your breathing picks up as slender fingers begin to slide under your waistband.

"Please."

Padmé's fingers dance across the fabric of your panties, ghosting over your clit with not enough friction. "Is this what you needed?" she asks, even though she knows it's not and she knows you need more.

Your twist your neck to bury your nose into her hair. The familiar scent of citrus and fresh flowers fills your senses, but it isn't enough to clear the storm raging in your head.

You think you sob something into her curls, because her hand pulls out of your pants and suddenly there's a warmth on both of your cheeks and your face is being pulled back to look at Padmé.

"Tell me what you need, my love," she whispers, thumb swiping across your cheekbone.

Gone is the teasing touches, and you feel unworthy to have the undivided attention of someone like Padmé Amidala.

"I just want to forget," you murmur, hands curling into the silk nightgown that's most definitely too expensive for you to even look at.

"Okay," Padmé agrees easily.

She always agrees too easily.

You think she'd hand over her Senate seat to you if you asked. Padmé would give you every credit she has to her name — which is a lot of them — and she'd give you the most lavish clothes and the most grand of mansions without even a second thought.

Your skin flushes with the heady feeling of being given such a gift like this. How in the hell did you manage to get so lucky?

Not that you would know, but Padmé asks herself the same question every morning she wakes up next to you.

With a strength that is no longer surprising to you, Padmé lifts you up and forward, laying you flat on her lavish Nabooian queen-sized bed.

Your eyes flutter shut as a gasp falls between your open lips, but Padmé doesn't let them stay closed for long.

Lithe fingers crawl up your chest and close around your chin, getting your attention with a gentle jerk of her hand.

"Look," she whispers into your skin, lips pressing the softest of kisses down your newly revealed stomach with every button of your shirt she undos.

Your eyes fly open and —

Oh.

You stare into a mirror that stretches over the whole ceiling.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to Padmé: the curve of her back as she crawls down your body, the swell of her ass as she readjusts herself overtop of you, the waterfall of curly hair that spills down her shoulders and back.

She's ethereal and yours.

"Look at yourself," Padmé reiterates, lips dancing at your waistband. "I wish you could see you the way I see you,"

A noise of disagreement leaves your throat, but it's replaced with a high pitched moan as Padmé finally pulls your bottoms and panties down.

Hands, perfectly warm against your skin, flatten against your inner thighs as Padmé forces your legs wider. "Yes," she insists, "you're beautiful. So good for Mommy,"

Your breath hitches.

"You always make Mommy feel so good," Padmé continues, laying flat between your legs. Her breath is hot against your fluttering cunt. "Can't I make you feel good?"

You're so torn. You want to watch her with your own eyes — you want to crane your neck and look at her with her face so dangerously close to what you want to most — but there's also something so entrancing about watching her through the mirror.

It's intoxicating to watch as she pushes your legs even wider, and one of her hands comes up to splay across your stomach.

"Yes," you whimper, writhing beneath her touch. Your pulse pounds in your ears and your mouth goes dry as you prepare yourself for your next words. "Yes, Mommy."

She presses a soft kiss to delicate junction where your thigh meets pussy, "That's my good girl," she whispers into your skin.

Padmé proceeds to ruin any train of thought you may have had by closing her lips around your clit. The tip of her tongue laves tight little circles around your sensitive bud while her hands hold your jerking hips down.

The gasp that is ripped from your lips echos through her bedroom, bouncing off the mirror above you.

It's a glorious sight. All you can do is watch through the reflection as Padmé buries her face into your cunt and throws herself into eating you out like she throws herself into her Senatorial work.

You're babbling, you think. Nothing intelligible. It's all cries of Mommy and thank you and you feel so good.

One of her hands leaves your hip to trace around your fluttering hole. Padmé doesn't make you beg before she slides two fingers, knuckle deep, into your cunt as she moans into you.

The vibrations paired with the sudden penetration have you wailing and arching into her mouth.

"Please!" you cry out, "'m gonna cum, Mommy, I'm gonna cum!"

Her other hand slides up to close around one of your breasts, kneading the skin and pinching your nipple with blinding accuracy.

You watch through glazed eyes as your chest heaves beneath her hand and your legs tremble around her shoulders.

You feel teeth against your clit as her lips stretch into a smile.

You hear the obscene squelch of your cunt around her fingers as she strokes that devastating spot inside of you.

"Cum for Mommy," Padmé commands before ducking her head back down to suck viciously at your clit.

You sob your pleasure as your release floods her mouth.

Padmé drinks you down with all the greed of a woman in the desert, lapping gently at your cunt until you're jerking away from her in overstimulation.

"That's my good girl," she whispers as she crawls back up your body. "Such a good girl,"

You waste no time in wrapping your arms around her waist while she lays herself over top of you. The grounding weight of her body keeps you from slipping away from yourself, and instead you are content to lay in the aftermath of your pleasure.

Padmé presses a sugar sweet kiss to your temple.

Mommy always takes care of her girl.

[adorethedistance]

Party Hard - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: drinking, partying, intoxication, non sexual stripping, swearing probably, 

Words: 6343 (which, if you know me, is a FUCK ton)

Summary: Going from tipsy to full on drunk is a terrible idea, but especially when you’ve got a secret to hide that could mean the difference between preserving and ruining your relationship with your best friend.

A/N: A couple items before we get started: I think I’m back on my bullshit? I mean I wrote this fic and it’s three times the length of my normal fics. Also I wrote this headassery as a literal self insert me(ace) x someone and so there are a couple flaws here and there that make this something I’m not 100% proud of. Owen picks the reader up a few times and I’m aware this kind of thing can really effect someone’s experience with this fic so I do apologize for the lack of inclusivity in regards to body type/ableism. I’m falling really behind on school work because I just can’t find the motivation which either means y’all will be seeing a lot more of me soon or absolutely nothing at all. Not sure which yet.

“You’ve got it so bad.” Charlie rests his left arm on his best friend’s shoulder, tipping back the half-full angry orchard bottle he’d been nursing for the better half of an hour. Owen’s stare is immediately broken and he crosses his arms defensively.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Turning to meet his friend’s smug stare, Owen shoots Charlie a glare of annoyance before returning his attention to the girl on the dance floor. Surrounded by a gaggle of her closest friends, Y/n is dancing and singing her heart out to Fergalicious with Chelsea, Leila, Savannah, and Carolynn. The bunch of them share in sporadic laughs as they exchange ridiculous dance moves just to add to the fleeting moment’s laughter. An assortment of screeches and squawks blend together as they all prepare to sing the rap section of the song. Observing the level of excitement the girls have over the verse, Owen can’t help but laugh at the spectacle.

“Why don’t you just ask her out already?” Charlie inquires between sips of his cold drink.

“What?”

“Y/n. Why have you not asked her out.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Yeah. Because you haven’t asked her out.” Owen rolls his eyes before turning 90 degrees to fully face the smug guitarist. He turns about-face to prove a point, but another symphony of squeals at the next song choice drags his attention back to his other best friend on the dance floor. “You’re so whipped.”

“Am not.”

“Are too! Look, if you don’t ask her out tonight, I will.”

“You’re not even into her,” Owen protests unceremoniously. Setting the molasses colored bottle on the counter next to Owen, Charlie steps back and copies his position of crossed arms and a relaxed stance.

“You’re right, I’m not. But you are, and if that’s what it takes to light the fire under your ass then I’ll do it.”

“She wouldn’t say yes.”

“Are you sure? I mean, the only way to know for sure is to ask.” And with that, Charlie is off, speeding toward Y/n at a pace that launches Owen into an impulsive chase. To prevent his friend from doing something stupid, Owen shoves him in the opposite direction from the group of girls on the dance floor. What he hadn’t anticipated was Charlie moving so far so fast. Owen has longer legs, he’s supposed to be the faster one, not Charlie. That’s why he hadn’t anticipated turning away from his musical friend to come face to face with a very flushed Y/n. Her lip-gloss coated lips are parted as she catches her breath from all the dancing. They look so soft and inviting that Owen can’t help but stare, and doesn’t realize the several looks of confusion among the girls around him.

“Everything okay, Owen?” Snapping out of his hyper focused stare, Owen blinks a few times, trying to generate a reason for coming over.

“You’ve been dancing for a while.”

“...Yeah?”

“Let me fix you a drink?” His statement comes out as more of a question but the breathless girl agrees nonetheless. Owen extends his hand to her which she gladly accepts but not without a quick word to her friends.

“I’ll be right back, I’m getting a drink.”

Her friends aren’t stupid, quite the opposite actually. And they see right through Owen’s facade of fixing her a drink because she’d been ‘dancing a while’. Please. As if they didn’t know a desperate attempt at flirting when they saw it.

The pounding music from the backyard begins to fade and muffle once the pair step into the Shada’s beautiful kitchen space. Owen leads her to the kitchen island where he has her take a seat on one of the barstools in front of the high countertop. Stepping around the fixture, Owen busies himself with whipping up a drink for Y/n at the makeshift bar on the island. He doesn’t even have to ask what it is she wants. Ice, pink whitney, club soda, and a splash of lime juice mixed together in a red solo cup Owen had considerately written her name on before going all mixologist-mode.

“Your usual.”

“Thank you, sir. You know, I’ve only had a handful of barbecue chips since I got here, and I’m already tipsy, so this actually might get me completely drunk.” Taking a sip, Y/n hums out of pleasure, “Why do you make my favorite drink better than I make my favorite drink?”

“So you have a reason to keep me around.” At the sound of Y/n’s laugh, Owen cracks a smile in time with his favorite sound in the world. The blonde haired man leans forward to rest his weight on his left forearm. He stares at her with adoration seeping from his gaze, before lifting his own cup to drink with her.

“What is that?” she asks, sitting up taller to try and see into Owen’s cup over the island.

“Jack Daniels.”

“I want some.”

“No,” Owen answers swiftly albeit softly. Y/n, however, is not feeling as conciliatory.

“No?”

“Have you ever tried whiskey before?”

“Well, no-”

“You’re drinking a fruit flavored cocktail that’s like 30% nonalcoholic. A sip of this would knock you off your little ass.” Y/n frowns at his words and employs a fake pout of anger to guilt her now laughing friend. Despite her smile, she whines,

“You suck.” Owen merely shrugs unapologetically before sipping and wincing at his drink of choice. “So… how did your date go- with Amy?” And there it is. The question that’s been at the forefront of Y/n’s mind for the last 24 hours.

Owen met this girl Amy at a more professional house party type of event and they hit it off right away. They spent the night invested in conversation, sharing in a cacophony of laughter. Y/n had no right to be upset, but she was. Amy was drop dead gorgeous in that Mini length red, velvet dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her figure was snatched to the gods, and she was about 5’3”; a seemingly irrelevant thing to notice, but Y/n knew that was the height Owen loved in a partner. At least, based on all his previous flings. And not to mention, her beautiful golden blonde hair that extended all the way down her toned back. Amy was perfect to all standards including that of any straight man with eyes and undoubtedly Owen’s. They spent the entire night together, Y/n long forgotten despite having been Owen’s plus one.

Y/n on the other hand didn’t exactly view herself as the drop-dead gorgeous supermodel type. Seeing how Owen took an interest in her at that event, it was no wonder Y/n was jealous. In fact, she had been so jealous that she allowed their flirting to ruin her entire evening.

She had been invited platonically as Owen’s guest, but Owen didn’t feel guilty about leaving her alone once he saw Charlie was by her side the whole night. Little did he know Charlie was only there for her because Owen wasn’t. It was pity company. Pity company that she was grateful to have as she cried into a few gin and tonics. Y/n avoided telling Charlie about her feelings for the adorable drummer, but with the way events transpired, he had figured out what it was that had upset her.

Charlie so badly wanted to give Owen the guilt trip of a lifetime. And he did once he and Owen were alone, heading home in Charlie’s orange hatchback car. He did so by telling Owen about how his best friend had spent the entire evening crying into gin and tonics. ‘Y/n doesn’t even like gin and tonic’ was all Owen could come up with.

When he inquired about why his best friend was crying, Charlie said he didn’t know, but it may have had something to do with the fact that the person who invited her spent the whole night ignoring her; he left it at that, leaving Owen to connect the dots, sort of. Owen had come to the realization that Y/n must have been crying over him, but why? Unable to comprehend a reason, he pushed the situation to the back of his mind. So far back that when Amy texted him that same night, he immediately responded and eventually set up a date for them to get dinner alone Friday evening.

The date was fine. Objectively there was nothing wrong with it. But every time Amy took a sip of the gin and tonic she had ordered, he couldn’t help being reminded of Y/n that night. It took Owen a solid thirty minutes to finally conclude that maybe Y/n was... jealous? Of what? Of Amy? Quickly reviewing a long list of qualities, identical to the one that Y/n had thoroughly checked through when she first saw the blonde, Owen realized she was indeed jealous of Amy. But why? What did Amy have that Y/n didn’t?

Oh.

His initial conclusion in the car with Charlie had to be right. Y/n was crying over him, and seemingly jealous of Amy, all because Amy had his attention. Why was that a problem?

Oh… no. No, Y/n does not have feelings for him. Y/n is... well, Y/n. His best friend, his partner in crime, his confidant, there’s no way she’s in love with him. There’s a different reason as to why she’d been crying into drinks she didn’t like. And that different reason is why her text replies have been short and cold when he had asked for date night conversation pointers. And that different reason is why her smile kept faltering on FaceTime when he was asking for fashion advice for his date.

Y/n is not in love with her best friend.

Owen had spent the past year pushing down his feelings for the girl that threatened to bubble over the top. If Y/n was truly into him, he would’ve acted on them. But she isn’t, so he didn’t. At least, that’s what Owen told himself…

“It was alright,” he offers lamely as a reply to her inquiry. Y/n simply nods and takes another swig of her drink to dull the ache in the center of her chest.

“Just alright?”

“Okay, it was better than alright. She was great.” There’s a hole burning in the center of her heart, and against her better judgment, she expands the deficit by asking for more information.

“What does that mean- that she was ‘great’?”

“You know…” Owen trails off in search of the right words, some words, any words, but nothing comes to him. To sell her nonchalant demeanor, the hopelessly devoted girl is staring down into her cup as if it’s the most interesting thing in the room. She didn’t expect Owen’s eyes to be boring into hers when she looked back up, so she quickly musters a polite smile. Maybe the average onlooker couldn’t tell it was fake, but Owen knows something is off. He just knows. Because he knows her.

“How did those conversation pointers pan out?” She’s deflecting, he thinks.

“One of them worked.” I’m just feeding into it, he thinks.

“Only one of them?” He’s holding back something, she thinks.

“Well, yeah. We didn’t really do much talking if you get what I mean.” I don’t think I can handle this, she thinks.

“I see…” The pair stands together in a silence so tense they felt like strangers. It’s awful. Y/n and Owen hate every second of it, but what could they do? In a moment blinded by upset, Y/n reaches across the island to grab the newly opened bottle of grey goose and pours what must’ve been no less than three shots of liquid into her cup. No club soda or lemonade this time, she chugs down the rest of her drink in a flash; Owen stares at her in disbelief and shock.

Y/n hates being drunk, she likes being the designated driver, she’s never had straight up liquor in her life, and she’s a lightweight, that’s for damn sure. Owen knows all of these things and is even more surprised to see her reaching for an almost empty bottle of gin.

“Hey. Maybe you should take it easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a lightweight and you know it. Put the cup down.” When Y/n shakes her head no, something in Owen snaps and his desire to be gentle is long forgotten. “Y/n. Put the drink down.”

“Why do you care, Owen?” In taking time to respond, Owen sees the opportunity and goes for it, taking the cup from her loose grasp and splashing it down the drain of the vegetable sink. “What the fuck?!”

“I think you’ve had enough to drink. Come on.” It’s only a matter of time until Y/n becomes an incoherent human being that’s impossible to wrangle, so Owen is very aware he’s on the clock. Snagging two Arrowhead water bottles in one hand, he takes Y/n’s hand in the other and brings her into the Shada’s den. There are only a few other people in the room, one is a couple and the other a pair of pining idiots, to which Owen becomes slightly wary. Not that the dynamic would change much. He and Y/n are practically a couple according to everyone around them.

Chelsea and Charlie are sitting fairly close together for just friends, on the chocolate brown loveseat facing the couch that Owen has plopped his increasingly intoxicated friend onto; Leila is sitting in a single armchair that a very tipsy Taylor is hanging over the back of to hug her shoulders. Upon seeing Y/n’s pouting expression Chelsea seeks more information,

“You good, fam?”

“He threw it down the sink!” She’s fading faster than Owen had hoped.

“I did. I poured what would’ve been her fifth and sixth shots down the sink.”

“Jesus, Y/n, are you trying to kill yourself?”

“What are you, a cop?” Even tipsy she’s still sharp as a tack. If Owen wasn’t frustrated with her at the moment, he would’ve probably laughed. But he is, so he didn’t. Slipping back into caretaker mode, he hands her one of the water bottles he snagged from the cooler on the way out. In her typical stubborn and petulant fashion, Y/n weakly throws the unopened bottle onto the couch cushion next to her. All their friends laugh but Owen isn’t having it.

“Y/n.” And it only takes a firm call of her name for the slumped over lightweight to glare at him but oblige. She retrieves the bottle and sticks her arm out straight toward Owen’s still standing figure.

“I can’t open it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this fucked up,” Leila comments.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you fucked up period,” Chelsea adds on. Charlie laughs lightly before resuming whatever conversation the four of them had going pre-Owen and Y/n’s entrance.

Satisfied with the small sips she’s taking of her water, Owen relaxes and takes a seat next to her on the couch. The temporary break in her temper tantrum allows Owen to save his breath; he opens his own water bottle, taking a few drinks which ended up being half the bottle. He’s given her a good bit of room on the couch but it isn’t good enough for Y/n. It takes her a few failed attempts to screw on the cap of her water but once it’s properly sealed, she moves closer to her best friend. The water has acted like some magical temperament cure as Y/n’s previously permanent pout has disappeared.

Owen knows he and Y/n are close enough to where cuddling wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But the way she’s burrowed into his side, picking up his seemingly ‘heavy’ arm to place it around her own inebriated frame, laying her head high up on his chest, and unintentionally resting her hand on his lower abdomen, something feels off. Her hand isn’t dangerously low, but low enough that the side of her limp palm has met the waistband of his jeans. Owen can’t help but feel his skin tingle and burn under her touch. Why is he so affected by her touch all of a sudden?

Owen is pulled from his snowballing thoughts by the sound of Y/n’s muffled voice against his chest. He leans down as far as he can which places his head on top of hers gently.

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, you don’t need to be sorry,” he whispers just loud enough for her to hear. A tiny drop of warmth on his shirt under her head triggers Owen’s memory: Y/n’s an emotional drunk. She doesn’t get drunk often but when she does, she goes all in and becomes somewhat manic as a result. That accounts for her previous anger. Now it’s sadness, so in about ten minutes, she’ll be easily excitable and bouncing off the walls.

Y/n had carpooled with Leila and Chelsea to the party, and though Owen was upset about her not picking him up like they’d briefly talked about at first, he’s suddenly thankful for the arrangement.

“Let’s get you home, yeah?”

“Unhhh.” The lack of a coherent response is enough for Owen, and after finishing the rest of his water, he sits up on the couch.

“Where’s your house key? Hm?” The prospect of losing her key is absolutely devastating to Y/n as she begins to weep. Her imminent distress in response to Owen’s question has all their friends laughing once more; Leila speaks up,

“Check the left chest pocket of her jacket.”

Owen nods, noting the directions, and gently rolls his friend over on her back. Deciding against using her strength, Y/n flops over onto her other side which still allows Owen access to her pocket. His long fingers dwarf the button fastener on her jacket that she often struggles to open, and sure enough her sky blue house key is in her pocket just as Leila said.

“Thanks,” he acknowledges Leila before taking Y/n’s cold hands in his own larger ones to help her stand. It’s a bit of a struggle to stand and as a result, the fading girl leans a bit of her weight into Owen’s side. “You gonna say bye to our friends?”

Y/n nods a goodbye to each person in the room, moving from left to right naming Leila, Taylor, Chelsea, and then Charlie. Upon saying bye to Charlie the small girl starts to cry again, harder this time, much to everyone’s confusion.

“What’s wrong?”

“Charlie looked a-at me like he didn’t l-like me.” The entire room bursts out laughing, Owen included this time, but she’s still crying. “It’s no-not funny.”

“I know. You’re right, it’s not funny.” Owen’s exaggerated sympathy goes undetected by the very emotional Y/n as she presses her face into his grey long sleeve shirt. She reaches up to hug her arms around Owen’s neck for stability as she adds more tears to the tiny spot from before. “Can you walk?” He asks genuinely as more of her weight leans into him. The only response Owen gets is a few soft sobs, and in reaction to her messy state, lets out a subtle eye roll. He shakes his head before bending down to place one arm under her knees and the other behind her shoulder blades, sweeping her off the ground before she can protest.

“Would you guys tell Jer thanks and that I had to take her home?” A symphony of affirmations and goodbyes usher him out of the house, and once outside Y/n’s crying diminuendos into short sniffles and the occasional sigh.

“Here, be careful,” Owen panics as his friend nearly bangs the front of her head against the roof of his car. Once he cautiously places all her limbs in the passenger side, Owen shuts the door and hurries over to the driver’s side as if Y/n could hurt herself in the next five seconds. He places the key in the ignition but before he even touches the gear shift, he turns and looks quizzically at his best friend. The sniffling and sighs coming from her puffy face have lulled her into an almost unconscious state; Owen puffs out a frustrated sigh as he reaches across the entire car to grab Y/n’s seatbelt for her.

Another thing about drunk Y/n is that her emotional state makes her more likely to give in to physical impulses. So after she registers Owen leaning across her lap for the seatbelt, she grabs his shoulder so he doesn’t move away. The action surprises Owen and he turns his face to look into her half-lidded eyes. He’s trying to make sense of the action but his trailing thoughts are interrupted when the girl in the passenger’s seat leans forward slightly to put her face against Owen’s neck.

“I like your smell.” Owen tries so hard not to laugh in fear of upsetting her again, but he can’t conceal the smile growing on his face. He then gently pulls away from her grasp in order to actually start driving,

“Okay. Thank you.”

The car ride is composed of mostly comfortable silence with the occasional inebriated comment or nonsensical sound from the girl in the passenger seat; Owen had been so captivated by Y/n’s uncharacteristically relaxed state, he’d been driving on autopilot and instead of turning left to get on the highway that runs south to where her apartment is, he’d gone north to go to his own place. No big deal, Owen didn’t plan on leaving her intoxicated and alone, and she’s stayed the night plenty of times before now. What’s one more night? It isn’t until he puts the car in park and helps her out of the vehicle that Y/n clocks her surroundings.

“I don’t live here.”

“You don’t, no, but I do,” Owen replies simply before he slides out of the car. Y/n stays in the car as if Owen told her not to move, and looks up at him confusedly when he opens her door. In her tipsy state, she is able to recognize what Owen is doing and smugly places her hand over the buckle of her seatbelt. With her tiny palm over the red button, she begins giggling maniacally.

“What are you doing?” Owen asks with a frustrated sigh although he can’t help the small smile overtaking his features at the sound of her growing laughter. He doesn’t get a response, just more giggling which lets him know he’s going to have to do things the hard way now that she’s in a lifted mood. “Kid, you have to get out of the car.”

“You can’t make me.”

Owen takes a step back from the open door to reevaluate. Y/n always tells him to work smarter, not harder. Another one of her many bouts of wisdom is that you can keep the attention of children and adults alike with a vastly dynamic change in volume. The question is will she notice Owen using this tactic on her in her drunken state?

“Hey, Y/n/n,” his speech drops to a low whisper. “I’m sad, can you hold my hand?” The change in volume works exactly as described; completely convinced by the sincerity of his whispering, Y/n gives him her right hand. “Can I have the other one?”

When she nods a small ‘yes’ and gives him both of her hands, Owen finds himself fighting the urge to laugh at how easy that was. He takes both of her cool hands in his larger left one to reach across her body and release her seatbelt with a swift CLICK.

Luckily Y/n didn’t tangle herself up in the seatbelt, but she had other ideas for causing trouble. Owen helped her out of the car but once she was standing on her own two feet, she began running away from him. With a slam of the car door and a string of breathy curses later, he chases after his best friend before she can hurt herself on literally anything in the parking garage. The sound of Y/n’s laughter carries through the vacant space, and despite all her best efforts, Owen quickly catches up to her. Her giddy intoxication allowed for the suspension of disbelief that she could outrun the much taller Owen Joyner, but she’s sorely mistaken when his strong arms wrap around her waist and lift her feet off the ground. Y/n’s bouts of laughter are contagious; Owen finds himself laughing alongside his best friend. Setting her feet back on the ground he asks,

“Are you going to run away again if I let go of you?”

“Yeah,” she chokes out through the tail end of her laughing fit. The candidness of her reply prompts Owen to throw his head back, shaking it as if in disagreement with the universe itself,

“I appreciate your honesty.” And with that, Y/n screeches in glee as her best friend maneuvers her body in his grip to lift her over his right shoulder.

“Owen!”

“You did this to yourself, kid.”

The silent elevator ride up to his flat is comfortable relative to the current position they’re in. Y/n’s no longer fighting being carried but instead entertains herself by tapping out an intricate beat on the surface of Owen’s back.

“Guess what song this is.”

The beat she’s playing is close to incoherent and Owen tries to stifle his full laugh in fear of making her cry again. He’s been successful so far, but now having Y/n over his shoulder, she can feel the movement of his abdomen that was unintelligible by sight alone.

“Your favorite song,” he guesses insincerely.

“No, my favorite song doesn’t sound like that. It was sicko mode.”

“That was not sicko mode.”

“Owen, how come you don’t wear a badge?”

“What?”

“Because you’re the song police?” Owen can’t help but snort out a laugh even though the comment was made at his expense. Still sharp as a tack.

Once the pair reach the front door of Owen’s ‘bachelorette pad’ as Y/n liked to call it, he sets her back on the ground albeit reluctantly as he recalls why he was carrying her in the first place. Thinking quickly on his feet, Owen forms a plan that’s more likely than not foolproof.

“Hey, Y/n/n?”

“Yeah?” Her voice is still right behind him thankfully.

“Can I have a hug?” After a few seconds of silence in the hall, Owen begins to doubt his plan until he feels the weight of his best friend leaning on his toned back. With her cheek pressed against the middle of his spine, Y/n brings her arms around his waist, clasping her hands tightly together. Her semi-public display of affection allows Owen some time to unlock his front door. Once he props the door open, Owen realizes that Y/n probably isn’t going to let go any time soon and opts to waddle through the threshold with her still attached to him. He’s able to turn around and lock them back in for the night which makes the girl begin to laugh.

“Was this your plan all along? To get me drunk so you could lock me in your apartment and hold me prisoner for the rest of my life?”

“And I would’ve gotten away with it, too...”

“If it weren’t for those meddling kids and their dog.”

True to his imagination that Y/n wasn’t letting go any time soon, Owen swivels her around his torso so that he could hold her to his side rather than support her with his back. He now has his right arm over both of her shoulders as she continues to hug her best friend. The way she leans her head onto his chest makes Owen’s heartbeat the tiniest bit faster. ‘She’s drunk, she doesn’t know what this does to you’ is the mantra blaring through Owen’s subconscious. Shaking any and all sort of romantic thoughts out of his head, he begins to lead her back to his bedroom.

Flicking the lights on proves to be a mistake once Y/n starts groaning miserably, and Owen decides the floor lamp is a better option than the overheads. Much to Owen’s surprise and relief, Y/n moves to sit on the edge of his bed on her own volition. She’s not upright for long as she collapses into the sheets of his unmade bed that contemplated neatening before leaving the house; hindsight is 20/20.

“Hmm. I like your smell,” Y/n parrots despite already bringing up the topic on the ride home.

“This is the same cologne I always use.”

“No. I like your natural smell.”

“What?”

“I was reading up about pheromones the other day. And there was this thing that said when couples like each others’ scent, it’s like a primal way of seeing if you’re immuno-compatible with someone so your offspring have the best chance for survival. It’s an evolutionary thing for the survival of our species. Ants have pheromones, too.”

Sometimes she has trouble remembering to feed herself, but leave it to Y/n to remember extensive information about pheromones whilst intoxicated. The concept is intriguing to Owen, so he proceeds to ask questions, ignoring the tug on his heart he felt after hearing her say the word ‘couples’.

“So, if I like your scent, we’re immuno-?”

“Compatible, yeah. But it’s mostly me because you can sniff out my period.”

“I can what?”

“I read that men can tell when a woman is at her most fertile because that’s when they like her smell the best. They did a study where a bunch of men were introduced to a few different scents, and without fail, the one they liked the most or would describe as ‘sexy’ or ‘attractive’ was the scent they took from the woman who was ovulating.”

Y/n continues talking about what she learned about pheromones as Owen picks up a bit of the mess around his room. She returns to the topic of ant pheromones as he digs through his surprisingly large closet for something for his friend to sleep in. His temporarily bubbly best friend also notes that he should ‘sniff her now because she’s ovulating and he would like that’ which makes him laugh into the drawers of his waist-height dresser. Returning to find her still slumped over on the bed, he pats her leg and beckons her to sit up. After Y/n’s upright again, Owen hands her his classic black ‘BEANS’ t-shirt and a pair of briefs that won’t properly fit her but will fit better than a pair of his actual pants.

“Can you put these on for me?”

“Yeah.” Owen’s conflicted with both wanting to respect Y/n’s privacy by leaving the room, and prioritizing her safety, and not leaving her unattended at any moment. He comes to a compromise which is staying by her side but turning a full 180 to face the wall of his bedroom. A couple of moments pass until Y/n begins whining frustratedly.

“Owen.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t ubns-” her words become incomprehensible as she begins to cry again and Owen turns around to find her struggling with the buttons on her shirt, her jacket long discarded on the bedroom floor. This shirt: her white, cap-sleeve crop top with a peter pan collar that she wore for anything mildly significant, this was her favorite. Owen remembers her fussing about how she ruined it only to find that she just forgot to steam it one day. So with a little heat and water, Owen had fixed the shirt like nothing ever happened, and he’d do it a million times over again if it meant he got to relive seeing the smile that graced her face for the first time again.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do the buttons.” She runs the back of her right hand against her tired eyes to wipe away her tears and Owen internally curses himself for the way the small action makes his heart flutter.

“Do you need help?”

“Yeah.”

“Listen to me, you are okay,” he sinks to kneel in front of Y/n as she sits tiredly on the edge of the bed. Owen doesn’t miss the slight tremble of his hands as he reaches up to unbutton her shirt, but he prays that she will. Through tiny sniffles and teary eyes, she watches his hands effortlessly work down the length of her shirt, each button modestly dancing between his fingertips. Once the short top is fully unbuttoned, Owen returns to his normal standing height and Y/n attempts to shrug the fabric off her body. She struggles lightly and knowing her frustration is imminent, Owen reaches down to gingerly push the sleeves off her shoulders. The light graze of his rough, calloused skin against her own skin sends electric-like shocks through the both of them; yet neither of them believed the other felt it too.

Owen hastily withdraws his hands and, without warning, Y/n quickly removes the bralette she was wearing. Owen’s eyes widen slightly at her lack of inhibition. He does his best to be a gentleman and swiftly redirects his gaze to the white ceiling fan that has all of a sudden become the most intriguing object in the universe. His lower peripheral vision indicates that she’s finally slipped the black tee over her head, but she begins sniffling more fiercely as she struggles with taking off her jeans. Owen sighs and drops to his knees once more in spite of himself, and aids his best friend in slipping the material over the length of her calves and off the tips of her toes. Hoping to speed up the process, he grabs the briefs he had brought her and unfolds them in preparation for helping her into them. His efforts are all for naught as Y/n forgoes the need for any more clothing and slides under the covers of his unmade bed. Owen then turns to leave the bedroom, opting to set up on the couch for the night before Y/n’s small voice is cutting through the comfortable silence.

“Where are you going?” He sighs,

“I’ll be right back, okay? I’ll get you some water and Advil for when you wake up tomorrow.” Y/n then nods acceptingly and allows her eyes to flutter closed as he leaves the room. Despite how tired she feels, Y/n won’t quite yet let herself sleep--not ‘til Owen is beside her. When he returns he sets the ibuprofen bottle on the nightstand before uncapping the Kirkland brand water bottle he had in the fridge. He coaxes her into sitting up just one more time so she can drink some of the water before falling asleep. She sits and rubs her tired eyes as she drinks and Owen has to physically force himself to look away from the adorable sight. He just wants to take care of her forever but things have always been strictly platonic between them.

The risk of making their friendship weird or awkward was just too great.

“Goodnight kid, I’ll be right outside if you need me.” Owen leaves without awaiting a response and lets out an annoyed sigh before setting himself up on the couch in his living room. He was so focused on getting Y/n to bed safely that he forgot to grab clothes for himself. Not a big deal. He simply strips down to just his underwear and climbs underneath the thick Pottery Barn throw blanket Y/n had gifted him as a housewarming gift. That and a fire extinguisher because ‘you don’t notice its absence until you need it’ she claimed. The memory makes Owen smile and he allows his eyes to close after a long day.

A long day that was about to get longer. Owen finds himself sinking further and further into sleep until he hears the padding of footsteps that are now in his living room. He’s too tired to open his eyes, and it’s not like he doesn’t already know who it is. What does surprise him, however, is the feeling of the familiar weight squeezing between the couch and his turned back.

“What are you doing?” He half mumbles into the night.

“You’re warm.”

“That was not the question, Y/n/n.” After not receiving a reply, Owen turns as best as he can to look at his friend who’s nestling her way into his sleeping arrangement for the night. “Kid-”

“I just wanna be with you.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out of irritation, exhaustion, and a sliver of adoration before sitting up on the couch, “Come on.”

He stands up, fully expecting to have to drag her back to the bedroom, but finds relief in seeing her struggle her way off the couch. Slipping her tired hand into his unexpecting, larger one, Y/n allows her friend to lead her into the bedroom for the second time that night.

Owen considerately lifts the covers for her to climb back into before getting into the other side of the bed.

“Owen.”

“Hm?”

“Guess what.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

“Love you, too, kid.”

“No,” Y/n speaks in a casual tone as if she’s not divulging into her biggest emotional trepidation to date. “I love you, Owen.”

Owen can’t help the way his heart seemingly stops. The way the butterflies in his stomach are going wild. The way he wants to smile like he’s the biggest lovestruck idiot on planet Earth.

She’s drunk. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She won’t remember this tomorrow.

“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”

She won’t remember that tomorrow.

***

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[psychedelic-ink]

This is my commission for @bisexualturtledove ! Thank you so much for commissioning me and letting me post it! I hope you enjoy this uwu 

also this might be my favorite banner i ever did 

Pairing: Law x chubby!fem!reader x Zoro

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word count: 2.2K 

Warning: Relatives talking about your weight and being mean about it, Reader being insecure about her weight, oral (receiving), threesome, overstimulation 

Summary: Your cousin reminds you how much you’ve gained weight and implies that Zoro and Law aren’t happy with you like this. Time passes and you start to believe what you’ve been told, that is until Law and Zoro sit you down and remind you how much they love you. 

Commissions | Ko-Fi

“Have you gained weight?” 

A chill went down your spine at the hearing of those words. Your eyes widened as you stared at your cousin with an astonished look. But it seemed like your expression has gone unnoticed by your cousin as she continued to spout words of poison. 

“Seriously whenever I see you it seems like you get bigger,” she chuckled. “Law and Zoro must be disappointed.” 

“Disappointed?” you repeated your lips feeling numb. 

She rolled her eyes as she placed the wine glass on her lips and took a big gulp. Your eyes followed her gulps. Your brows were raised high, how on earth did the conversation take such a shift? Your stomach churned and you felt yourself starting to sweat when she tore the delicate glass away from her lips. 

“I mean, have you seen them?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Their pecks could cut diamonds. They’re both fit as hell, surely they don’t like the fact that you’re...not…” 

“I…” you swallowed, your grip on your wine glass tightening. “They never said anything like that.” 

Your cousin gave you a pitiful look, her lips quivered up as she stared down at you. Momentarily you lifted the wine glass to your lips, thinking that if you took a sip the tense mood would be lifted but the scent of the alcohol made you feel sick due to the words she had just spoken. Your whole mood had fallen to the ground and you doubted you could pick the pieces up. 

“Oh honey,” he pity reached your ears. “Of course they won’t say anything but you probably know deep down right? You need to be blind to not see that you’re out of their league.” 

“Y-Yeah,” you managed to choke out, feigning a smile. “I’m on a diet anyway,” Lies. “I’m working on it.” 

“That’s great!” she exclaimed, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I hope it works out for you! Men like that just don’t stay for nothing you know?” 

You quickly nodded, her hand almost felt like a 100 pounds on your shoulder. Biting your bottom lip you waited for her to pass to the next victim, it seemed like someone had heard your prayers because her eyes widened and smile grew wide when she saw someone else and moved on to them. 

Mentally and physically you felt more relaxed with her leaving. You let out a deep breath and quickly placed your wine glass on the nearest surface. 

You couldn’t help but think your cousin was right when you grabbed your coat and headed home. 

≿————-　❈　————-≾

When you arrive home, you were glad to see that Law and Zoro were watching a movie. Well, it would be better to say that Law was watching a movie and Zoro was sleeping. You sat on the couch next to them with a groan, eyeing the TV as you did so. Zoro’s head was gently lying on top of Law’s lap and Law played with his soft green hair. The doctor tore his gaze away from the TV and on to you. 

“Welcome home,” he said in a low voice, careful to not wake Zoro up. “How was the gathering?” 

“Hell.” you said simply, your cousin’s words still echoing in the back of your head. “That’s pretty much it, not much to say.” 

Law observed you momentarily before turning his gaze back to the TV. 

“You can tell us if something is bothering you, you know?” 

Your eyes widened momentarily before you fixated your gaze to the TV as well. Even though it was nice that Law knew you so well it was also eerie. Despite his reassuring words you decided not to say anything, you already felt sick to your stomach, you didn’t want to talk about it. Nor did you want them to know that deep down, even though you knew it was foolish, kind of believed the words your cousin had spout. 

“Just the usual family gathering, not really much to say.” you smiled. “Don’t worry I’ll be fine.” 

Needless to say that was a lie. 

Days, weeks passed and your distance between the boys grew. You stared at the mirror for a longer amount with words of poison spiraling in your mind. You didn’t know how to make the feeling of uneasiness go away. The negativity towards yourself continued to brew inside of you and the boys noticed. 

Whenever one of them attempted to touch you, you moved away, you talked less and more and more you spent time in your room. Reading, watching mind numbing content on youtube. You could tell that they were slowly getting flustered with you, they didn’t understand and would never be able to. The more you thought about it the more you wondered why they were even with you. 

Then one day Zoro pulled you to the living room and sat you down on the couch as both of them took their places across from you. Anxiety brewed inside of you and you started to play with the hem of your shirt as you averted your eyes. 

“What’s going on with you?” Zoro is the first to speak, his eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah I am,” you replied quickly, still not looking at them. You could feel Law’s eyes boring into you. “I’m just a bit tired that’s all.” 

“Bullshit.” the green haired man suddenly snapped. “You’ve been avoiding us for weeks. If we did something just tell us.” 

“You didn’t do-” 

“Then why are you avoiding us like the plague!” 

“You wouldn’t understand!” you shouted as well, finally fixing your gaze on him. 

“Aha!” Zoro shouted triumphantly. “So there is something wrong, tell us.” 

“Is it because of the family gathering you went to?” 

Law’s voice cut the atmosphere like a knife, he was calm and collected. You gulped and turned your eyes to him, before you could reply Zoro spoke first. 

“Did something happen there?” he asked, turning to Law. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Law shrugged. 

“Y/n told me nothing happened so I didn’t pry.” 

Zoro snapped his head towards you, his gaze now more curious than anything. You felt your breath getting stuck in your throat, heart rising up to your cheeks you stared down at the floor. You hear Zoro sigh and he sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist he pulled you close. Swiftly he placed a kiss on the top of your head and asked again, this time much calmer than before. 

“We’re worried, just tell us what happened.” 

“My,” a knot formed in your throat as you tried to speak. You swallowed and continued. “My cousin said that I gained weight and that… you guys weren’t happy with me basically…” 

“What?” Zoro asked, bewildered. 

“Is that why you’ve been keeping your distance?” Law continued, coming closer and sitting down to your other side. “You felt that we didn’t want you...just because you gained weight?” 

Tears pricked the corner of your eyes and buried your face into Zoro’s broad chest. He pulled your closer, his arms tightening around you. Slowly nodding you said nothing else. 

“That would never happen,” Zoro murmured against your hair. “We don’t love you because of how much you weigh.” 

“It sounds to me that your cousin is just bitter,” Law said, placing a hand over your thigh and caressing your plump flesh over your pajamas. “With her nasty personality I doubt anyone even so much as glances at her.” 

Law’s hand traveled up your thigh, his thumb caressing you a soft moan left your lips. It’s been a while since you had sex and you would be lying if you said you haven’t been craving them both. Your cunt twitched as Law’s fingers ghosted over your clothed heat. 

Meanwhile, Zoro’s hands snuck under your shirt. With his fingertips he traced your spine, making you shiver and whine. You could barely call it touch with the way he was stroking you. 

“I guess we’ll just have to remind you how much we love you.” Law muttered while he lifted your legs up to the couch. 

Zoro slid his hands to the front of you as Law prompted you to lay on your back. He now was nestled between your legs, pulling down your pajama pants as Zoro started to fondle your breasts. 

You felt your face starting to heat up as Zoro buried his face into your neck. Licking and nibbling on the sensitive flesh, his hands kneading your soft mounds. A sharp yelp left you when he pinched both of your nipples, your back arched and you bit your bottom lip. 

Your whole body was burning up, lips parted, you were already dripping. Law, squeezing your thigh, lifted one of your legs over your shoulder and leaned down. Your cunt throbbed at his prying gaze, instinctively you spread your legs wider and his smirk grew. 

“Someone’s eager.” 

Law dipped down and left a trail of open mouthed kisses as he traveled up to your core. He spread the folds with his fingers and latched on to it, lapping up your juices as his life depended on it. 

Your head fell back and Zoro continued to suck on your neck. He rolled up your shirt, exposing your plump breasts and started to roll your nips between his rough fingers.  A bit of saliva dribbled down your chin. Your whole body continuously spasmed, the overwhelming sensation being too much for you. 

Law’s sinful tongue went in circles around your gaping hole and wiggled the muscle inside. You lifted your lips to give him further access and soon enough he started to thrust his tongue in and out of you. Your whole body trembled and he rolled your clit between his fingers. 

Your moan gradually became louder but was cut short when Zoro took a hold of your chin and turned you to face him, he crashed his lips against yours. Moaning into the kiss, your tongues danced alongside each other, licking and sucking on the warm flesh. Both of them were simply intoxicating, you missed this, missed the feeling of them drowning you with their love and passion. 

Law squeezed your love handles as his tongue continued to penetrate you, every so often he would wiggle it inside of you making your scream out his name over and over again as heat started to build in your core. 

Your fingers tangled in Law’s raven hair you broke the kiss as you pushed his face in deeper. You moaned his and Zoro’s name over and over again as both of them pushed you over the edge making your insides quiver and your body spasm. 

“Fuck...” you breathed out tugging on Law’s hair. 

Law lifted his head to glance at you, his chin was drenched in your juices. He had a pleased smile plastered on his face as he leaned down to swiftly claim your lips. 

Continuing to kiss you Law aligned himself with your twitching hole. You were already so sensitive that it felt like you would cum the moment he started to push in. He broke the kiss and grabbed your hips, slightly lifting you up so he could reach even deeper inside you. 

Law was slow and gentle as he buried himself into you inch by inch. Zoro had his lips on your ear whispering words of encouragement and praise as Law bottomed out. Your already sensitive cunt was throbbing and aching as it wrapped around Law’s length. 

As Law started to move, Zoro bit the lobe of your ear, his tongue dancing along the skin. Your back arched and your moans grew louder as the noise of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Eyes closed and mouth open, you screamed out their names over and over again. At that point you weren’t even sure you were properly voicing them out. 

You felt Law twitching inside of you, he hissed and gripped your thighs tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh. Your insides feeling warm and tingly, your toes curled as you came the second time that day. As your orgasm washed over you Law quickly pulled out and came, hot ropes of cum shooting all over your lower abdomen. Feeling dazed, your whole body twitched. Zoro nuzzled the side of your face and planted a kiss on your temple. 

“Are you alright?” he muttered, his voice clearly still dripping with lust. 

You slowly nodded, your inner walls still twitching and your body spasming as you came down from your orgasm. 

“Good,” Law said, leaning closer, his breath ghosted over your flushed face. “Don’t ever believe the bullshit people tell you, again.” 

“And tell us about it.” Zoro added. “How are you feeling y/n? Up for round three?” 

Law chuckled at that, he inched closer to Zoro and gave him a sweet peck on the lips. 

“Poor Zoro,” he teased. “Do you feel left out?” 

“I wonder why?” he snorted. 

“I…” you breathed out. “I can go for round three.” 

A devilish smile spread across Zoro’s handsome features. 

“Good.” he hummed, starting to move from underneath you. 

Finally the negative thought and emotions left you as your two lovers devoured you. 

[harrypotterbrainworms]

Forest Retreat

Summary: Remus Lupin finds himself in a forest, in the middle of piss-nowhere after a full moon, but there’s a friendly (unknown) face that gives him a hand for healing.

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name, (L/N)- last name, (E/C)- eye colour, (H/C)- hair colour, (Y/H)- your house.

Word Count: 4714

A/N: been a whiLe, huh? heLlo. this is a BIG boy of fanfic, I hope you enjoy.

His vision slowly returned as he looked at his own hands… Blood. Red. Shiny. Thick. If he even glanced for two seconds longer he would’ve realised it was his own, but he was too concerned that he had hurt someone.

“Hello?! Is someone there? Yes! I see you, sir! Do you need help?” He saw a blurry figure approaching him slowly, wary in their steps, but persistent. He instinctively pushed himself back and away from the blurry person.

“I’m not gonna hurt you! I promise” They shouted towards him or maybe just said, Remus couldn’t tell the volume of the noise with his head and heart pounding at an alarming rate.

He kept backing away from the ever approaching figure, he didn’t know if it was his imagination and exhausted eyes, but the figure just didn’t seem to get closer or further and though he had been conscious for some time, his eyes were still blurry.

“Oh my stars. Are you okay?! Oh fucking hell- sir?! Are you-“ Before the blurry face could question him further, Remus realised he was crying, rather uncontrollably. He never has full control even after being conscious, his emotions controlled him for right now.

“IS SOMEONE HURT?! IS ANYONE DEAD?! YOU HAVE TO TELL ME?!” He shouted desperately at the person, laying his head in his hands as he sobbed further.

“You seem to be hurt.” They said blankly, inspecting him cautiously. He reached on to Remus’s ankle which appeared to be broken, but he flinched away.

“No- fuck. Has anyone been reported as injured or dead or anything?” He begged for an answer, the smell of the blood on his hands making him feel nauseous.

“I don't think so. There isn’t a person besides me for miles. How did you get here?” His eyes seemed to dry now, the person standing above him now in view, a man in simple fall attire and a basket filled with forest berries.

“I don’t know.” He wasn’t lying… completely. He knew in a way how he got here, but he didn’t know where here was. The man looked him up and down before taking off his coat, wrapping around Remus’s shivering body.

“You must be freezing. Can you walk?” He asked softly as he tried to help the other man up, but Remus just buckled under his own weight. He silently cursed himself, a broken ankle most likely maybe worse. He hoped not worse.

“My cottage isn’t far, here” He pulled Remus’s arm over his shoulder and slowly walked towards more trees, he watched as the (H/C) haired man pointed and a small arrow flew into the sky indicating a point. Remus felt a hinge of confusion.

“What if I had been a muggle?” He softly yet sternly, limping slightly as they maneuvered through the forest.

“For one, you wouldn’t be saying muggle and two this is wizarding lands.” He replied, shifting his weight as he helped Remus overcome a few large rocks in the way.

“Fair enough.” Remus stared up at the dark green arrow against the light grey sky. He felt a bit calmer, the adrenaline in his veins fizzling out slowly, but surely.

They walked arm in arm silently, the stranger mumbling to himself as the trees seemed to become less and less dense. He saw the odd rusted fence post as they walked closer and closer to the dark arrow in the sky.

“Are you sure no one has been hurt.” Remus repeated at him as he held the man for dear life.

“I’m almost 100% sure, as I said. No one for miles.”

“Okay.” He mumbled as he limped towards the arrow, an arm securely placed on his shoulder.

They were now face or face with a small cottage encased in plants, orange tinted vines growing from walls and small flowers giving their last bloom of the season barely holding on, as the cold breeze brushing Remus’s exposed legs, he shivered.

“Come on” The man led him inside where he was instantly hit with the smell of pumpkin pie and tea through the windows. They were now at the foot of the door where a gorgeous wreath of dried flowers and leaves hung right where the knocker sat, he opened the door and helped Remus sit on one of the small stools in the foyer as he hurried up a small covered staircase.

He looked around at the small cottage, the decor was… interesting to say the least. Small animal figures perched on shelves clashing with band posters and (Y/H) flags. The stranger had gone to Hogwarts, at least he knew one thing. Though he doesn’t remember his face, he heard footsteps in the corner of his hearing.

“Here let me help you, my bathroom is disappointingly on the second floor.” He once again grabbed Remus by the arm helping him navigate the winding staircase revealing a small bedroom and connected bathroom on the floor. He let Remus sit on the toilet as he pulled a small box out of a medicine cabinet.

“I’m no good at healing magic. Sorry.” He apologised again, unpacking the small first aid kit and starting to treat his wounds which Remus finally noticed. His stomach churned at the sight, though he’d seen himself post-moon time and time again, it still made him a little queasy to see the gashes.

He watched the strange man dub alcohol all over his wounds in silence, it was nice. It had been awhile since he saw another person after a transformation.

“All done, here’s a towel. Take a shower and I can patch you up more securely, okay?” He said, handing Remus a soft fluffy white towel that wafted scents of sweet flower body gel, before he left.

“Thank you.” He whispered meekly in response, he turned around and shot Remus a sweet smile which made his heart do a little dive.

“No worries, give a shout when you’re done” He smiled softly once again and closed the door behind him, leaving Remus to his thoughts.

He looked down and for the first time he realised he was naked. He was bare arsed in front of a stranger, his face flushed. He was naked, bloody and in a stranger’s home. He didn’t know the man’s name. Why had it only occurred to him now? He looked at the foreign bathroom, seeing if he could find where the mirror was. It didn’t seem to be in the places you’d think it would be. He ignored it for now stepping into the already drawn bath.

Remus felt the warmth soothe his, now very apparent, sore muscles, he sighed in the short lived content he felt. It was rare for him to feel even marginally safe in a home, not since… He didn’t want to think about it.

“You doing okay in there? There’s some soaps and things just behind the head rest!”” He heard his voice through the door, he opened his eyes and looked behind him. Sure enough there were some different shaped bottles and a small worn bar of soap.

“Yes, thank you” He shouted back through the door. Maybe for once in his life he shouldn’t think, so he didn’t. He sunk into the warm bath water letting it get to his neck as he soaked in the pleasure. He was sure the water was charmed, never leaving the perfect temperature he liked. He slowly started to wash the blood off his body, it just seemed to dissolve in the water as he lathered the sweet smelling body wash onto himself. It stung where his wounds were so he tried his best to avoid them with the small embroidered washcloth.

“I’ll be downstairs, there’s some clothing in front of the door. I hope they fit” He heard the hurried footsteps down the stairs as he slowly scrubbed the dried blood from his hair as well. Soon he could feel his skin pruning and decided it was time to get up.

He pulled himself out of the bath and drained the water, watching it swirl down. Remus grabbed the soft towel and dried himself slowly, trying to keep off his ankle.

The tired man limped to the door and picked up the pile of clothing on the floor, a simple pair of tartan pyjamas and a grey sweater. He took the new clothing and retreated back into the room he came from. They looked a little big for him, but he put them on anyway. He looked down at himself, they were definitely too big, the legs a little long for his own and the shirt hanging off of him comfortably.

Remus limped out of the small bathroom and into the bedroom, his heart stopped, on the large bed sat a large shaggy black dog. They stared at each other intensely. The dog looked rather unbothered that he was there, merely expressing a sniff into the air and a head tilt. Remus didn’t move until he heard another set of running footsteps again.

“Oh you’re done, great”

He didn’t say anything, just stared wide eyed towards the big dog. It just stare back at him with underwhelming curiosity.

“I see you’ve met Onyx, don’t be too afraid. He’s a big softie” He moved towards the dog, scruffing his ears and giving him a kiss on the forehead. Of course Remus knew it wasn’t him, he knew that. He simply nodded as he watched him give Onyx another kiss.

“Come on, then. Let’s get some food in ya” He moved back to Remus’s side, pulling his arm over his shoulder for support. They struggled immensely trying to get Remus back down the stairs, but managed as he limped slowly toward the kitchen.

Remus sat at the small round kitchen table, looking out of the window nook. It was so peaceful here he thought. It would be lovely to live in a place like this away from the city he hated so much.

“Sorry I don’t have much right now, bad hunting season” He sighed and fished out a box of cereal from the cupboard and some milk out of a fridge.

“How do you have electricity here?”

“Yep. outside of magic borders” He said as he prepared a large bowl of cereal for him, he realised how hungry he was. He felt himself drool a little at the promise of food as the man set the bowl and spoon in front of him.

“Thank you.”

He watched him stretch towards a higher shelf, his shirt lifting up. His skin in full view making Remus stare intently before averting his eyes to the cereal, stuffing his face to distract himself from it. He heard the rattle of what he assumed was dog food being poured into a bowl.

“Onyx come down!” He called for the shaggy dog and Remus heard it barrel down the winding staircase, immediately scruffing down the newly prepared bowl of food in front of him.

The stranger put a small metal kettle onto the stove, he watched intently, trying to discern any red flags from his situation. There were definitely a few as far as he could see, stranger in the empty woods of Yorkshire being nice to him and a large black dog who looked rather terrifying. The unnamed man (so far) was searching through the small first aid box, trying to find anything more secure for Remus. He healed fast, but it was helpful.

“Ah! Here it is” He said, pulling out various bandages and bandaids. He hummed in satisfaction as he went to sit in front of Remus again, patching his cuts and bruises with various muggle ointments.

“I’m sorry.” Remus apologised again as he watched the man wipe his brow, he didn’t need to squat the entire time, Remus thought. It was much more inconvenient than just sitting. The man looked up at him and shook his head dismissing his apology, he looked like he was going to say something, but shook his head again continuing to treat his wounds.

“Here” He pulled out a small stool for Remus to put his foot on, it was already feeling better if he was honest, but still hurt like hell.

Remus looked down as the man wrapped the bandage around his ankle carefully, trying not to hurt him further.

“You’re lucky I found you, this could’ve gotten way worse if you stayed out there” He looked up, trying to make conversation to evade the awkward silence between them. Remus didn’t know what to say really as he looked back to his ankle wrapping another length of cloth around it.

“What’s your name?” Remus enquired, looking a little pale and distant. He was half listening and felt weird not having a name to the face in front of him. His ankle hurt like hell, but watching the man slowly patch him up brought a flush to his face. It was rather reminiscent of the past, he thought.

“(Y/N) (L/N)” He answered just as absentmindedly as Remus’s question, looking very focused on his wrapping.

“Remus Lupin.” He said as well, feeling weird that he couldn’t shake his hand at least. (Y/n)’s head perked up slightly as he heard Remus’s name.

“Moony then?” He said looking up, an apprehensive gaze in his (E/C) eyes. He unintentionally twitched at the mention of his nickname.

“What?” He choked out abruptly, his foot moving from the stool in shock. He immediately winced at the pain, (Y/N) quickly and carefully setting the stool back up from where it fell.

“You went to Hogwarts with those marauders kids? You were one of them, I’ve heard them say that. Sorry if I’m overstepping.”

“It’s alright, just been awhile since I’ve heard that.” He chuckled nervously looking away from him for a moment, ignoring the last part. A silence settled between them before he felt (Y/N) tuck the bandage into itself, getting up and moving away after.

They both said nothing as (Y/N) packed up the first aid kit, putting it back in its place. The whistling of the kettle the only sound left in the room as (Y/N) pulled it off. He made tea for the two of them. The silence felt deafening to Remus, uncomfortable.

“Uh- when did you graduate?” He stammered out, nervously fidgeting with a loose thread on the tartan pants. He didn’t dare look up as he heard (Y/N) set the teat in front of them.

“A year or two after you I think.” He said sitting across him “Sugar?” He said, taking one of the cups.

“Three.” Was all he could say, he was out of questions as he looked up seeing the man plup 3 cubes of sugar into the tea. Silence again as Remus poured milk into his tea, mixing the lot. He could hear Onyx lapping up water below as he sipped.

“What happened?” (Y/N) suddenly asked, looking at him. He looked away immediately, his eyes planted to the ground as his knuckles grew white around the mug.

“I’m not sure.” He lied.

He just nodded and sipped his tea again. Remus facepalmed mentally, he couldn’t think of a single convincing lie? Not even one? Idiot, he thought. If he wasn’t sitting in someone’s home he may have just smacked himself for this one. “No more questions. Good deal?” He looked up at when (Y/N) looked up, a small homey smile on his face. Remus chuckled a bit and nodded “Agreed.”

Remus insisted that he could take the next and closest bus back to Yorkshire and be out of (Y/N)’s way, but he insisted Remus stay a few days to heal up. In the end, Remus just nodded and there he was, sitting on (Y/N)’s pullout sofa on a Friday morning with a very sleepy Onyx laying across him. The dog had taken a strange liking to him (Y/N) had said “He’s not usually so friendly, big scaredy-cat when it comes to strangers” He had laughed when he came downstairs the morning after Remus had arrived to see Onyx and Remus as snug as bugs on the small pullout.

“How’s your ankle feeling?” He asked as soon as he saw that Remus was awake, when Remus looked up at him he almost choked. A layer of sweat above his brow, in a tight fitting shirt and a bow draped across his shoulder.

“B-Better.” He stuttered.

“That’s good” He huffed, he seemed a little out of breath, Remus watched his chest inflate and deflate with every exhausted heave.

“Where have you been?” He asked as nonchalantly, switching his gaze back down to the big dog on his lap.

“Checking for tracks. Seeing if I can find what attacked you, I-“ He was interrupted by a frantic coughing sound from Remus.

“I never said I was attacked” He said a little too quickly, heat rising to his face as he quickly shut up again.

“Remus. If there’s something out here I can’t do nothing, it’ll get my chickens and plus I can look like a hero for you”

Remus didn’t say anything the rest of the day, just idly laid around, trying to get off his foot. Not everyone needed to know his business, especially not a stranger. Onyx didn’t come that night, even his dog knew something was up. The fourth day was torturous, no talking, just silence. It felt lonely. Remus felt lonely again, he had pretended to sleep most of the day, ignoring when (Y/N) when he walked in. He seemed to still be looking. He should just tell him. Tell him what really happened, but as brooded in his thoughts.

“I know you’re not asleep, Remus.” He heard (Y/N) behind, he once again pretended not to hear anything.

“Listen then. Whatever attacked you or didn’t attack you is not really my business, but it happened near my home and I’d just like to know if I’m in danger or not. That’s it.” He sighed, sitting on the edge of the pullout sofa. He felt a dog head rest on him too. He felt bad.

“You’re not. At least not now.” He mumbled quietly, still not turning around.

“Thank you. Dinner?” Remus nodded, moving to a sitting position next to him again.

They talked again for a while, over dinner and then dessert about school, (Y/N) told Remus about the simple life in his little cottage and he just listened and laughed at his jokes. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time, a very long time. Now in the crisp autumn evening they sat together, Onyx quietly by their feet.

“Thank you.” Remus turned to him, awkwardly patting his leg in a pathetic attempt to make him feel closer.

“You’re very welcome, Remus. I’m glad I didn’t leave you to die out there, makes life a little more exciting” He laughed sadly, looking up at the bright unpolluted sky. He looked up too, his hand now resting lightly on (Y/N) leg. It felt comfortable there as he felt the other man’s hand rest on top of his. Remus liked this kind of silence, the silence after a nice conversation until.

“You weren’t attacked, were you?” He sighed, his voice sounded a little defeated. Remus’s feet felt on fire, he hadn’t felt this need to run in a long fucking time. He could immediately tell (Y/N) had put the pieces together. He could try and run, get up as fast as he could and break both his ankles trying to run away from this feeling.

“No.” Remus said, a little more emotionally distant than he intended.

“And those aren’t ordinary wounds or scars, are they?” Remus felt like he would throw up given the chance, (Y/N) didn’t turn to him, his eyes still glued on the sky.

“N-No.” His voice quivered as he spoke, his mind running miles in his head as thought about what (Y/N) was gonna do to him. (Y/N) sighed, it didn’t seem like he wanted to say it outloud either, but his hand was still firmly clasped with Remus. He didn’t dare move, he thought maybe if he didn’t let out, neither would he. His throat felt like it was closing up, (Y/N) was still staring up at the sky… not saying anything.

“Please say something.” Remus choked out frantically, his hands shaking slightly as he watched (Y/N) turn to him. He took a breath, grounding himself as he gave Remus’s hand a small squeeze.

“Lycanthropy, right? That’s the term I think. I didn’t really read a lot about it, I didn’t like how people were treated. The texts weren’t v-very flattering, so I only read what I nee-” He rambled a bit towards the end, but was interrupted as he saw Remus lower his head. He was worried. “Are you feeling sick? Is your foot okay?” He said quickly, trying to inspect Remus as he did on the first day he was there, but he watched Remus lift his head chuckling to himself a bit as a few tears streamed down his face.

“Y-You’re an asshole” He stuttered through a few choked sobs. (Y/N) looked like a deer in headlights, did he do something wrong? “What?”

“You’re a stupid asshole, d-dramatic too.” He shoved him lightly, laughing a bit through sniffs. “Couldn’t just s-say “I know you’re a werewolf and I don’t mind.” F-Fucking asshole behaviour.” He sniffed, wiping his eyes with the corners of (Y/N)’s sweater he was wearing. (Y/N) laughed a little out of relief. Their hands were still together, their pinkies interlocked subconsciously, but they both pulled away the heat raising to their cheeks.

“Uh-let’s get to bed, yeah?” (Y/N) coughed awkwardly speaking away from Remus. He grabbed Remus’s arm, the proximity of their bodies making them feel more flushed as he helped the injured man into his pullout.

“Goodnight.” “Yeah. G-Goodnight.”

The next two days felt more natural from there, Remus felt a little normal again. Someone knew and didn’t care. It made him feel like he could burst with tears again and again just thinking about how easy it felt to be around a person for once. Then Monday came, Remus knew it had to come to an end. At least this part, he couldn’t just move in with a stranger in the same week they met and he couldn’t expect one person who didn’t care to kill him, to become his new best friend either. The morning just felt depressing, like the first rain in spring. It had to happen, but he missed the blue sky.

“You can keep the clothes. Can’t just send you out there naked, can I?” (Y/N) chuckled sadly, handing Remus the last outfit he’s wearing here as he went to take the last bath here and the last- “There’s a bus just outside of the tree bounds that will take you to the bus terminal, you can just take this. I bought and never really used it. Wanted to see-“ (Y/N) started rambling again, but Remus cut him off with a simple “Thank you.. so much. You don’t know what this week meant.” He said candidly, might be his last chance to appreciate everything this stranger had done.

“Oh. Uh- you’re welcome.” (Y/N) huffed, a little flushed by the sudden candidness.

The morning seemed to slow as Remus lowered himself into the charmed bath again, his thoughts once again melting away in the smell of the sweet body wash in the bathroom. He felt like he knew the place so well now. He had found the mirror (after a couple of tries and (Y/N) pointing it out), which turned out to be a charm above the sink and knew where (Y/N) kept the cereal… Maybe he would just stop thinking again. The warm water washed over him a final time, the wash smelled amazing, nothing stung anymore, his ankle felt almost new again and he had at least made a new friend. Focus on the positive, James used to tell him. James…

“I’m gonna be out for a bit, help yourself!” He heard through the door, he felt a sense of routine at this point as he picked himself up from the wash, drying himself off and heading downstairs.

He ate and then folded the pullout for the last time, neatly setting the blanket on the end of the sofa. He sighed as he sat down, a sigh of content for once, as he opened the book (Y/N) had let him choose from his collection. He just read to himself before Onyx had come, sitting next to him. “I’ll miss you, big boy” He said scruffing the top of his head, a small grunt of appreciation leaving the dog.

A long two hours passed before (Y/N) came back, as usual a little out of breath with a few small prey hanging off his belt. “Lunch?” He said, Remus nodded and (Y/N) filled him up before they piled into (Y/N)’s small car.

The drive was silent, a certain somber energy between them. Remus felt like he would drive himself crazy thinking of an excuse for him to stay, any excuse.

“Remember which bus to take?” (Y/N) spoke up first. “I’ve taken the bus before, (Y/N).” He shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

“Just- Just making sure.” He stuttered, turning against the dirt road in front of them. Remus just watched the scenery pass by as they got closer and closer to the city. He watched (Y/N) tap the steering wheel more frequently as they approached the last turn, the sign of the bus terminal passing them.

(Y/N) pulled the car into a parking space, The silence felt thick as they sat there, the engine still humming with life before (Y/N) pulled the key out, sighing.

“Here, it’s my address. Write me, okay? Don’t be a stranger.” He laughed, a small tear edging to escape his eyes as he turned to face Remus. (Y/N) bunched his sweater together, wiping his eyes, sniffing heavily trying to compose himself. Remus wasn’t sure what went through his mind, but he put his hands on (Y/N)’s face, he could feel the heat in his cheeks as he did this. There was something that Remus loved about this sadness he felt. It wasn’t what he usually felt, a longing to make sure he takes every chance he can to visit this man whenever he could. The fact that he got to say goodbye, somewhat baffled him, saying goodbye to see him later.

“I promise I will.” He said smiling, how could he cry right now, he thought. This was probably the happiest he’s been in years. (Y/N) chuckled a bit, giving himself one last big sniff before doing something Remus wished he’d had the guts for that day. He grabbed his face back and kissed him.

Remus sat there for a moment, eyes wide and heart in his throat. He didn’t think he’d ever kissed someone, but when the shock wore off, he kissed whole heartly back. They pulled apart, Remus felt like he was in a dream. His head was a little dizzy from the rush.

“A present for the ride.” (Y/N) laughed, still holding his face, pressing their foreheads together.

“Let me return the gift” Remus huffed out, connecting their lips again. His fingers wrapping themselves around his neck, (Y/N)’s finding a home in Remus’s hair. Remus couldn’t believe how well their lips fit together. He smiled into the kiss before they pulled away, Remus tucked the piece of paper with his address on it into the small bag (Y/N) had given him and leaned in for a small peck.

“Goodbye, Remus Lupin.” He chuckled, a hand on his cheek. Remus put his hand over it, giving it a small squeeze as he lowered it.

“Until a later date, (Y/N) (L/N).” He smiled as he got out of the car. (Y/N) waving as he drove away. Remus definitely wouldn’t run this time, he’d be back before he knew it.

[ratcourtjester]

What the hell do you even get rich people for Valentine's Day? Hal thought turning the little stuffed bear in his hand. The eyes were off center and it was holding a bright red heart that had the phrase 'I love you BEARY much' embroidered on it. Definitely not. He shook his head and put the poor thing back on the shelf before he decided to do it the favor of putting it out of its misery. He wished someone would have the courtesy of putting him put of his already. The store was packed with last minute shoppers and all the good stuff had been picked over already. Hal wouldn't of bothered if his boyfriend hadn't invited him out to dinner that night. A freaking Valentine's Day dinner. What was this, high school???

...Okay that felt a little harsh. Honestly, Hal didn't have anything against the Holiday. Free candy, quick hook-ups and half priced chocolate the next day? Honestly what wasn't to love? But he was actually in a relationship this year. And not with Carol who practically expected him to screw up on Valentine's Day (harsh but not exactly unwarranted) but with the goddamn Batman. To be fair, he probably also figured Hal was going to screw it up. He still wasn't 100% sure how this had all happened, really it was a blur of arguments, very close calls and some absolutely fantastic sex and then boom! He was meeting the guy's kids (officially) and they were living together (unofficially). 

It hadn't been all bad actually. Bruce was just as difficult as one could imagine when dating a bat-themed vigilante but if the man had Hal this stressed out about a commercial Holiday as nauseating as Valentine's Day than it was pretty safe to say Hal lov-

Lo-

...had strong feelings for him. After all, Bruce wasn't Batman all the time, though one would be hard pressed to get the billionaire to admit that. He was caring and tender when he felt safe enough to be. And alright he had a decent sense of humor. And he was fucking gorgeous to boot. And rich. Very, very rich. That had never really been a factor in what Hal found attractive in people but it certainly didn't hurt. It also, apparently, limited options when it came to getting them gifts.

He sighed looking at his cart filled only by two five pound bags of mixed candy and relented, taking the bear back off the shelf and tossing it in. Cass would like it at least.

-----------------

Two hours later, Hal was no closer to figuring out what the hell to get Bruce and was running dangerously close to being late, the chances of him getting laid that night getting slimmer and slimmer with every tick of the clock. He ran his fingers through his hair, gelling it back and looked himself over in the mirror, inspecting his face to make sure he hadn't missed any spots shaving. 

"Not bad, Jordan, not bad at all…" He hummed to his well dressed reflection. He wore a deep red button up and his nicest dress pants. Red wasn't normally his color but he figured he might as well be festive. Even if he didn't have anything to give. He sighed again deciding the flowers he had grabbed were going to have to do as put his cufflinks on. They had been his father's and he only really pulled them out for special occasions. He paused. In fact, the last time he had worn them was at Jim's wedding. It took him a second to let that sink in. As much as he had been telling himself it was just a date, he had almost subconsciously grabbed something he hadn't worn in almost a decade. Maybe this was more important to him than he let on. He looked over to the roses taunting him and groaned.

He was such a bad boyfriend. 

-----------------

Surprisingly, Hal arrived in Gotham just in time. Despite spending most of his off time in the Manor these days, he had opted to go back to his apartment when he got back on Earth just before he got the dinner invitation. If it bothered Bruce, he hadn't mentioned it in the few days in between. Letting the construct that made his suit up drop he landed within walking distance (but out of sight of prying eyes) of the manor and made the rest of the treck on foot. Alfred answered the door with a look that practically demanded to know why he even bothered knocking anymore at this point which he just answered with a grin.

"Hey Al, happy Valentine's Day." He said, fishing the tulip bulb from the bag of goodies he had brought the family. He figured the butler would enjoy the addition to his garden. 

"To you as well, Master Jordan." He took the plant with a small thank you. "Master Wayne will be down in a moment he's taking a call in-"

"Hal's here!" A shout from the staircase interrupted the family butler and him and Hal looked over just in time to watch the oldest launch himself over the railing and land with all the grace of an acrobatic cat before bounding over and enveloping Hal in a hug.

" Master Grayson ." Alfred hissed looking thoroughly unimpressed with his actions. Dick grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck as he let the older man go. 

"Sorry Alf, guess I just missed him."

"You saw him a week ago." Duke snorted coming out of the den but gave Hal a grin anyway.

"Are these for us?" Steph grinned, suddenly at Hal's side and going through the plastic bag as Alfred rolled his eyes and took his duffle bag for him. She pulled out the little monstrosity of a bear and her eyes lit up. "Oh, I love this guy. He for B?" She teased.

"For your girlfriend actually. Figured she'd like him more." He said, snorting as Cass took the little bear from the blond and gave him a small smile. "You're welcome, kid."

It wasn't long before the rest of the little bats tore into the bags of candy he had brought with the exception of Jason, who was out with Roy, and Dick, who left for his own date with Wally shortly after greeting Hal, and ran off. It was another ten minutes before Bruce came down, looking slightly irritated. However the look softened once his eyes landed on Hal. "You look nice." He commented.

"You look pissed." Hal countered and got an eye roll in return.

"Nothing you did." Bruce said, placing a hand on his hip and a kiss on his cheek, taking the offered flowers before pulling away smirking. "For once anyway."

"Hilarious, Spooky." He snorted and looked the other man over. He looked fantastic, no surprise, wearing a suit by some designer he definitely couldn't pronounce the name of. God this man was out of his league. He was ushered out with mentions of a reservation and a shout from Tim to 'have him home by midnight' soon after.

---------------------

In the months since dating Bruce Freaking Wayne, Hal had been treated to restaurants where he was sure the food cost more than his rent. Tonight was no different. Marble floors, molded walls and food that he couldn’t pronounce with his high-school level French, no expense was sparred. Hal still wasn't sure if these restaurants made him feel out of place or not but it definitely didn't make him feel any better about not getting B anything for the holiday. Spooky didn't have to be the world's greatest detective to pick up something was wrong.

"We can go somewhere else." He offered, sipping at the water the waiter had brought him. Hal shook his head.

"Its not that." He said and sighed when Bruce raised an eyebrow, clearly wanting him to continue. "I got you flowers."

"Yes and they were lovely." 

"No. I only got you flowers." Hal said in frustration. Whether he was frustrated with himself or Bruce's knack for being intentionally obtuse. "Not even from a real flower shop. I got them from the store because I didn't know what the hell else to get you. Because what do you get a billionaire? You could just buy anything you wanted-"

"Hal-"

"And its not like I could have taken you out somewhere instead anyway. Can you imagine the headlines in the gossip rags if you were caught slumming it with me somewhere-"

" Hal ," Bruce said a little firmer this time, stopping Hal from putting his foot in his mouth any further. "I didn't realize how much my financial status bothered you." And that tone was much too close to Batman for Hal's liking.

"It doesn't." Hal said firmly, trying his best to be reassuring. "I just...I didn't get you anything." And Bruce stared at him, calculating, forming his next plan of action. That look made Hal squirm in away that should of been uncomfortable. Especially since he just knew that was the look he had while wearing the cowl. Finally he spoke.

"You did. You got me flowers and you came here with me. I only asked for one of those things." And weirdly enough, that made Hal relax. The weight of expectation lifted from his shoulders. "Besides," Bruce continued, smirking over his glass. Hal raised an eyebrow and the smirk widened knowing he had the pilot's attention. "You can make it up to me on the way home."

Hal choked on his wine.

[sheabeeprime]

I Drive Me Mad

AO3 Link

By: @sheabeeprime for @superherotiger as part of @friendly-neighborhood-exchange -> I'm so sorry this is late. I worked really hard though and wouldn't even read my story until this was posted so I hope you love it <3

Rating: Teen + Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Summary:

Even though he couldn’t make out most of the distinct features that would confirm this figure to be human, let alone someone he knew, he wasn’t afraid. This man wasn’t scary like his captors had been. No, he radiated safety and warmth and through the armor plating that now gently caressed his cheek, Peter detected a familiar smell of expensive cologne mixed with motor oil which he recognized as home. “D-Dad? Please…help me,” Peter whimpered, fighting spirit returning ever so slightly as he resisted the need to allow his eyes roll back into his skull and fall into the forever slumber. It hurt to stay awake and to try and comprehend reality, but something inside of him said that he had to. He had to, if not for himself than for the blob of red and gold which held him close. He couldn’t imagine how terrible it would be for a father to lose their only child. “It’s okay Peter; you’re going to be okay." Or: In the aftermath of his kidnapping, Peter takes comfort from Tony during a Thunderstorm.

References to Torture

The first time Peter called Tony “Dad,” he was tired and 100% drugged out. Whatever his kidnappers injected him with was strong, with its effects still lingering even after his captors ceased their torture and left for him dead. Peter only hoped the reason they finally abandoned his husk was because they realized Iron Man and the rest of the Avengers were hot on their tail.

It took an additional 36 hours after that, however, before Tony and the others finally found him. At that point Peter was damn near dead.

Days prior he was still trying to fight through the toxins as they were administered. He tried to stay awake and learn everything he could about his captors... Now, the spiderling was just trying to save his energy enough to stay alive, to maintain his vital functions, even if poorly.

Peter couldn’t even hold his head up anymore; allowing it to lull from one side to the other when his mentor tried to shake him back into awareness. The unpleasant feeling of his head rolling about his shoulders, however, was just barely enough ignite the fringes of his mind with a semi-consciousness. He mentally reached for the feeling, trying to hold onto it as long as possible.

“D-Dad?” He asked, tongue thick and cottony.

It took all his enhanced strength, but Peter lifted his head up just enough so that when his eyelids fluttered open, he was looking at the blurred figure before him in their eyes.

Even though he couldn’t make out most of the distinct features that would confirm this figure to be human, let alone someone he knew, he wasn’t afraid. This man wasn’t scary like his captors had been. No, he radiated safety and warmth and through the armor plating that now gently caressed his cheek, Peter detected a familiar smell of expensive cologne mixed with motor oil which he recognized as home.

“D-Dad? Please…help me,” Peter whimpered, fighting spirit returning ever so slightly as he resisted the need to allow his eyes roll back into his skull and fall into the forever slumber.

It hurt to stay awake and to try and comprehend reality, but something inside of him said that he had to. He had to, if not for himself than for the blob of red and gold which held him close. He couldn’t imagine how terrible it would be for a father to lose their only child.

“It’s okay Peter; you’re going to be okay.”

He clung to the feeling of hope that being in this figure’s arms brought him. Hands still bound behind his back with vibranium cuffs, Peter simply nuzzled into the neck of who he hoped to be his father, breathing in a heavy and ragged way while trying to hold back tears as the man cradled him and whispered sweet nothings, only stopping on the occasion to bark orders at the other Avengers.

Peter tried to ignore how every fiber of his body seemed to suddenly be subjected to hot flames when he was finally lifted up by the red and gold. As they took off into the air, Peter moaned, head throbbing to the same rhythm of his uneven pulse. His senses were both still dulled and on overdrive. He couldn’t even enjoy the way the cool air that filtered past them brought relief to his burning body because of the simultaneous wind sounds and air pressure that pounded in his ears.

Landing had to be worse than flying though. Peter wasn’t sure how long they’d been in the air for prior to hitting the ground, but the jostle it wrought was enough to displace Peter’s empty stomach such that his body, tired as it was, instinctually lurched forward in an attempt to dry heave. The strong arms holding him tightened their fatherly grip as Peter trembled in the aftermath, praying that the numbness he felt before might return and mask this pain once again.

There seemed to be no time to try and relax though. Almost immediately after his stomach attempted to turn inside out did a group of hands try to pry the crime-fighting-spider from his human safety blanket. Peter half expected the metal man to defend him, so when the man instead began the relinquish the hold he had on Peter to the group of strangers, Peter felt fear strike his heart.

“No!” he cried out, pushing back into the chest of the one person he knew was safe while trying to violent kick at his attackers.

“Pete, it’s okay. They just want to help. You’re safe,” The figure spoke in his ear, voice smooth and even, never once showing there was a reason to panic.

The words seemed to cocoon the spiderling up like his favorite MIT Hoodie. They allowed just the smallest morsel of comfort to sink into his skin and convinced him to momentarily stop bracing against the mass of hands just long enough for them to somehow release him from confines of the vibranium cuffs.

When Peter felt the pressure on his writs dissipate, his arms immediately snapped forward to wrap around his red and gold savior, gripping into the alloy mixture without fear of denting it. The person behind the armor didn’t even flinch he crunched the suit like aluminon foil.

“Don’ wan you ‘o leave me,” Peter slurred.

A couple minutes of silence passed, where the figure just hushed Peter by massaging his arms with one hand, supporting him still with the other, until the teenager could be coaxed into letting go and laying onto a gurney. When he finally relinquished the last of his grip and the medical staff began to work, Peter felt a stab of panic into his heart again. Behind his eyes, he could see the masked faces of his captors, taunting him in his intoxicated, helpless state and reaching to inflict more pain. Before Peter could open his mouth to scream, however, the sensation of someone holding his hand cut through the vision, anchoring him to reality.

The hand was about the size of the metal ones holding onto him earlier, except this time they were made of flesh. They felt soft yet calloused; gentle yet firm.

“Dad?”

Peter blinked a couple times, double vision lining up long enough to see Tony Stark’s face hovering over his own, concerned eyes and a worried smile. He ran his free hand over Peter’s sweat and blood matted hair, just like a parent would.

“It’s okay, little Bambino. I’m not going anywhere.” ~~~~~~~~

Peter didn’t remember calling Tony “Dad.” Actually, Peter didn’t remember much from his recuse at all. He wasn’t as embarrassed about it as his mentor, and even he himself, thought he was going to be though. Peter had recused people from kidnapping situations before and accepted that sometimes they say and do weird things. Never mind the fact that he had been fighting off calling Iron Man “Dad” in everyday conversations about a month prior to the incident.

Surprisingly, Peter was more flustered to find out that, true to his word, Tony stayed with him through all the poking, prodding, and evaluating. Even when surgery was deemed necessary

to reset some broken bones Peter had, Tony was there while he was put under and prepped for surgery. It was not until the lead doctor, Helen Cho, insisted that his presence in the surgery suite would be unsanitary and could inhibit the team of doctors that the billionaire finally did step aside. And even still, Tony’s face was the first he saw when he woke up.

Peter made a pretty quick recovery after that, all things considered. Once he gained enough weight back for his super healing to begin and work again, his bones and wounds seemed to knit themselves back together at an astronomical rate. 48 days after the incident and Dr. Cho even cleared him to be Spider-Man again, to Tony and May’s disgruntlement.

But Peter figured, this kind of thing…it happens to heroes. It happened to Tony. Sure, that was before he became Iron Man, but it still counts. And anyway, he didn’t want it to stop him from helping people; from preventing that kind of thing from happening to anyone else. He did the time in the hospital, he went to Tony’s mandated therapy, he should be able to be Spider-Man. It was the best thing for him anyway; to just move on.

Because that’s what heroes do.

Right?

But while he may have recovered from his physical wounds, his mental ones seemed tattooed with ugly ink on the back of his skull

Peter found he no longer felt safe in the apartment, with the sounds of the city beneath him. Whenever he closed his eyes, the dripping of their old bathroom faucet, or the sounds of his neighbors arguing, or the smell of the trash on the curb somehow brought him back to that grimy warehouse he had been kept in.

And when he was out and about, Peter’s Spidey Sense would constantly thrum. It made him seem paranoid. He would jump at just the sound of car doors closing or cats meowing or even just his friends approaching from behind. Everyone felt too close, but also too far.

The nightmares had to be the worst of it. Every night, he felt tortured again. Sometimes they were memories, sometimes imaginative scenarios, but always his fears playing out before his eyes. He tried to immerse himself with Spider-Man patrols and schoolwork in the late hour of night when sleep felt like imprisonment, but that wasn’t helping his mental state either.

That’s how Peter found himself sleeping at the Tower.

Peter wasn’t sure if being so high up and far away from the streets was what helped him calm down, or the bullet proof windows, or if it was just being close to Tony, but something about the Tower allowed him to sleep, even if only a little bit.

May was the first to approve of the arrangement.

“Anything to help my baby get better,” she said.

Tony had been pushing for him to stay anyway.

“It’s safer,” the genius would claim. And he was right, but there was more too it than that.

Either way, the Spiderling now had his own Star-Wars themed room in the Stark penthouse, down the hall from the master bedroom. And he would be lying if he said staying with his mentor hadn’t been great. The long lab days, the movie nights, the expensive family dinners, all of it was wonderful…except for one thing.

Thunderstorms.

KA-DUUUM!

Peter snapped forward in his bed, a mangled shout caught somewhere in this throat, never to make it out into the open. His eyes darted to the window which was being battered by rain. Part of him was thankful for the thunder for waking him from his impending nightmare. The other part of him, however, knew that this was almost worse.

FU-FOOM!

Another burst of noise had Peter jumping from his bed and into fighting position, hands balled into fists to keep them from shaking.

The tower was not soundproof. And being so high up, Peter felt the sounds of the storm were the only things that were made to be even louder.

Peter could feel see his veins throbbing with increased blood pressure. He squeezed his eyes shut to try and focus on his breathing, but the darkness behind his eyelids made his mind swim with anxiety.

“There is nothing to fear. There is nothing to fear. I’m safe here. I’m safe here,” Peter whispered to himself.

Logically, Peter knew this was just a harmless storm. He used to love watching them out of the massive windows in the tower. But ever since he came home from being kidnapped, he couldn’t handle it. The noises, the flashes of light, the way the tower seemed sway in the wind, all of it was too much for his heightened senses. The worst of it was, he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because it had been storming the night of his capture, or maybe it was just his PTSD, but either way it was driving him insane.

BARROOOM!

This time, Peter darted out of his room and into the hallway. Instinctually, he wanted to seek out comfort from the only other person in the house: Tony Stark. However, Peter was also trying to hide his fear of thunderstorms from his mentor, and up to this point he thought he had done a pretty damn good job. He had even had Ned hack FRIDAY so she wouldn’t alert Tony when he wasn’t sleeping well. He just didn’t want anyone to worry about him more than they already did. Which was a lot, by the way.

Tony didn’t need anything more weight on his mind, in Peter’s opinion. Despite how he hid behind a mask of sarcasm and sunglasses, Peter knew his mentor blamed himself for the world’s problems and carried that weight on his shoulders at all times. What kind of person would he be to add to that weight?

So, the young superhero padded past the Stark master bedroom and instead went into the kitchen to grab some water. He was about halfway done with his glass when another flash of lightening caused the kitchen-living area to momentarily flicker to life with a blinding white light. He could feel his stomach drop and hairs stand on end in the pitch black that followed, waiting for the room to be filled with sounds of thunder.

WA-BAMM!

CRASH!

Peter dropped his glass to the floor and jumped to the ceiling, whimpering when the glass he was using shattered beneath him. Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes as he crawled into the safety of a corner.

“Peter?”

Tony poked his head up over the back of his luxury couch, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes to help them adjust to the dark as he scanned the room for the spiderling. It wasn’t long before he spotted the human-sized form on the ceiling, huddling in a corner, silently sobbing.

“Oh Pete…”

Before Tony could even get up to go collect his kid, thunder struck again.

BUUU-DUDUMM!

Inhibitions falling, Peter scurried across the ceiling and dropped down on the couch next to Tony, curling up into his side like an infant.

“Dad, I’m sacred…” he mumbled into the genius’ oil-stained shirt, fear completely taking over.

Tony was sure Peter was unaware of what he had called him, but one look into the teen’s desperate, pleading eyes, and Tony decided he would let it be. The title gave him a warm, tingling feeling anyway. He knew in a second, he would be honored to be this kid’s Dad.

So, Tony did what any Dad would do and wrapped his arms around the boy, rubbing circles into his back and told him it would be okay. And they sat like the for the whole duration of the storm, until sobs became sniffles.

Peter was the first to break away, although not far enough that he was out of his mentor’s strong hold.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I don’t know what came over me,” he said, faced flushed from both crying and embarrassment.

Tony gave him the same concerned eyes and a worried smile that he vaguely remembered from his rescue. The man then ran his hand through the boy’s curls and, in a move that surprised them both, kissed the top of Peter’s head.

“You have nothing to be ashamed of. I know how difficult recovery can be. After Afghanistan…well…I guess you could say storms bothered me too, and I don’t have your senses,” the billionaire admitted.

Peter was shocked.

“Really? Is that why you were sleeping on the couch?” he asked.

“Uhh, actually, I just stay out here because I worry about you…ya know, in case you need me,” Tony answered, looking away a little nervously. He felt exposed, although deep inside knew his kid would never exploit that.

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Peter said quietly.

Tony noticed his guilt sinking in and immediately looked back at the kid and squeezed his arm so Peter would do the same.

“Hey, don’t be sorry. I really don’t mind.”

Peter looked skeptical.

Tony sighed.

“Listen. You are so good, Pete. What happened to me, I deserved that. But you? You do nothing be help people who have no advocate. I am so proud of you and the least I can do is be here when you need me. I’m not particularly good with my emotions but know that just how Iron Man will always look out for Spider-Man, Tony Stark will always look out for Peter Parker. Okay?”

Peter smiled. A genuine smile. Tony could swear it stopped raining in the moment and the room seemed almost brighter.

“I’m here for you too,” Peter said.

Damn this kid was too good.

“It won’t always hurt like this. It’s okay to lean on other people. I guess that’s something I’m still learning too.”

“We’ll get through this, Mr. Stark. Together.”

Tony smiled down at his kid, but a sudden thought turned his sweet smile into a mischievous smirk.

“Don’t you mean ‘Dad’?”

Peter flushed.

“Mrrrr. Starrrkkk.”

[fandom-blackhole]

Darling, it's not me who is trying to kill you! It's just that the buckets are too skkskskhsslsk 🥵

Paz and you playing hide and seek in the forest?

He'd go 100% soldier on a mission mode and find you in no time,

''Looks like I found my precious target'' ,

You being all smol and scaweed 🥺😫,

Then he goes apeshit, wrestling you so hard against the tree that it'd leave marks on your back,

If you were camping in the mountains, he'd pack the tiniest tent and sleeping bag possible to stay as close as it'd be possible,

Paz thinks when you are with him there is no personal space,

Omg, you on top of him, being pounded mercilessly as he'd trap you so hard with his hands around your back,

He'd also press his palm against THE BULGE and nut instantly after he felt your pussy gripping his dick,

Okay, let's stop because, dear god we 'bout to bust, aren't we?

One day you decided to surprise Paz at his work,

You sneaked to the kitchen by the back entrance and hugged him from behind,

He'd slowly turn to face you big smile plastered on his face,

Until he saw what you were wearing,

You put on this baby blue flowy dress,

''Sweetheart, you are looking like a snacc''

My lovely little cupcake, might as well eat you here and now''

He just lifted you with one hand like you weighted nothing and sat you on a counter,

He quickly got rid of your panties (he totally stole them from you because he loves your taste and smell) and was eating you out like a starved man,

Even tho he was cooking all the time, he'd always be hungry for you,

You trying to cover your mouth with your hands so his employees and dinners wouldn't hear you,

But he was fast ro grab your hands and just chuckle saying

''Sweetness, I am the ownere here, right? So let me hear these pretty noises of yours, let people know how good I make you feel''

DID I SAY WE NEED TO CHILL OUT? GUESS I CAN'T STOP MYSELF SORRY

Din would text you through the day and it's a mix between:

''Good morning, my sweet girl, Did you sleep well?'', ''Baby, remember to eat your breakfast'', ''Have you drink enough water today?'',

''Daddy, can't wait to get back home to you'', ''Babygirl, my dick is painfully hard right know, been thinkin' too much about your pretty, little pussy'',

Din is a SHY 😊 and sweet mean, he loves being silly with his class, but the daddy thing makes him wild,

Din you better wash out your mouth with a soap lol,

When you visited him and Grogu to catch up with them, he couldn't keep his cool,

Seeing you playing with Grogu and being so motherly towards the kid sparked something in Din,

When Grogu settled for his afternoon nap, Din would grab you and pin you against the wall, one hand resting on your chest the other tucking hair behind your ear, growling in this rich chocolate timber:

''Sweet girl, you have no idea what you do to daddy'',

But when you innocently sit in his lap in public, he gets all shy and blushy, hesitantly resting his hands on your thighs,

Umm dirty secret? He once stole your white bra and used it to relieve himself when you were away 🤭,

Don't wear low-cut clothing around him or he'd end up crashing into something or landing on his ass,

9/10 times you'd catch him trying to sneak a glance at your tiddies and being all embarrassed when caught,

Giving him a tiddy job but being also able to succ his tip too because he is so well-endowed, Din.exe has stopped working, nutted to death,

If there were more buckedheads I don't know if we could keep on writing these,

Boba lives off his authority and power,

You wanting to keep your relationship professional impressed him a lot,

You weren't another young, stupid girl chasing after his money,

There was going to be another charity event, he send you a beautiful Tiffany choker to pair up with your outfit,

He almost came in his suit pants, when he noticed you giving a speech at the event, wearing his present,

After you were done speaking, he came up to you and the group of other attendees you were talking with,

'' Miss, your speech was really touching and thoughtful '' you instantly feelt so proud, being praised for your hard work in front of all of these people, cheerfully smiling at him,

Before you had time to respond, he got closer to you, smirk crawling up on his face and whispered:

'' Also, this necklace suits you so nicely, princess''

You just got flustered and said to him:

'' Thank you, sir'' while bitting your lower lip,

Well next thing you knew, you were being kidnapped to the parking lot, Boba literally throwing you onto backsit of his car,

Thank God you decided to wear garters and stocking that night

I have nothing more left to say. - 🐣

This AU is just getting better and better, you are such a genius...

Hid and seek with Paz 3729201/10, best fucking idea

Paz just goes absolutely ape shit watching his cock buldge out your belly

Paz stealing your panties whenever he can 😭😭😭

Paz does not understand personal space when it comes to you

He HAS to be touching you in some way when you are around

Holding your hand, hand around you waist, arm around your shoulder, slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans

When he first sat next to you in your booth at his restaurant and your thighs touched, his heart soared when you didn't pull away from him

Paz and yours first date, was really like your 12th, but Paz took you to a strawberry farm

Held the baskets as you picked the fruit, constantly telling you that you picked the best berries

After he bought a bottle of strawberry wine, which the two of you shared over a small dinner that he made

Then the next thing you knew you both were on your couch, you on his lap, having a very heated make out session

Which lead to Paz picking you up and carrying you to your bedroom, where the two of you had a very passionate and intense wrestling session

Now, Din, my sweet himbo

He gets soooo flustered with PDA

You once kissed his cheek in front of some people, and you could almost see his brain short circuiting

Din constantly checking on you throughout the day 🥺🥺🥺

He always calls on his lunch break, just to talk with you and see how your day is going and talk about his class

One day when you came to check on Grogu at school, the rest of the kids convinced you to read to them during playtime

Din had to sit behind his desk for a while because just seeing you like that made him so hard

That night he wrestled with you until he passed out

Din once asked if he could keep his cock inside of you all night long

You woke up aching and leaking from how many times the two of had cum during the night

Din had moaned when he woke up and just spulled you under him for an early morning wrestling match

Now for Boba....

Boba always makes sure that you have some kind of present waiting for you in the mornings

Flowers, clothes, jewelry, a five star breakfast, himself

Boba totally gets you the prettiest tiara for his princess

Everything you own soon becomes namebrand, because only the best for his little

The first time Boba seen you wearing one of his gifts he had dragged you into the closest empty room, and left you marked and jelly legged

Boba totally gets you a custom gun for you to carry around for safety

Its inscribed with little one

Boba likes to always have your neck covered in hickies so that people know who you belong too

Boba took you to an art show once and every painting you showed interest in he bought for you

Don't mention liking any famous painters because he will get his hands on an original piece for you

Sorry its not much but these boys are driving me up the wall....

(SEND ME THOTS!!!!)