klfg

[autism-disco]

the horrors

[oreosmama]

here’s a request, okay so like i’ve been sad recently so how would Tsuki, Bokuto, and Kenma (separately) cheer up their s/o who’s sad, thank you :) hopefully you do it, if you don’t it’s totally cool!

Cheering Up Sad S/O (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! Umm, and I know I’m not really qualified to help or anything, but I know one thing that always makes me feel better is laughing. Even if it’s forced, laughing always feels good to me, so maybe it’ll help you too! Anyways, hope you guys enjoy!

Word count: 802

Tsukishima Kei:

Honestly, he doesn’t take you seriously at first. 

Let’s be real, Tsukishima is shit with emotions

So he thinks you’re kind of just throwing a fit in the beginning. 

Then you start crying or just start being more quiet than usual and then he thinks oh SHIT.

He starts by standing beside you and just awkwardly patting your head.

Then he sighs and brings out the big guns, dragging you to the couch and setting you down there. 

He leaves and comes back five minutes later with popcorn, drinks and piles of blankets and he just cuddles you while watching his favorite tv show (documentary about dinos whattt)

I mean ur like crying so u can’t see the screen, right??

He’s got his lanky arms wrapped around you and you’re laying on top of him trying to steady your breathing. 

When you do, you give him a small kiss and mutter thank you before untucking your face. 

He’ll nod and then ask what you want to watch and that’ll be that. 

Basically yeah he’s gonna be extremely awkward around you cuz that’s just Tsukki.

But after he gets over his initial shock and is like “oh crap, I’m the boyfriend here, I’m the one who solves this,” he just gives you his best snuggles under the claim that he’s keeping you warm. 

“If you’re tears dry when you’re cold, then you could get hypothermia.” 

“Pshh, yeah did the T-rex tell you that?”

He’ll own up to it in the end and legitimately ask if you’re okay. You almost tear up at his sincerity but nod anyways and tackle him in a big hug once more. 

(He smiles lightly against your hair and rubs your back while enjoying the feeling of having you against him.)

Bokuto Koutarou:

Usually, you’re just as chipper as Bokuto is, so when you’re down in the dumps, he is too. 

Goes emo mode almost instantly when he notices you’re sad. 

Then he smacks himself out of it.

He carries you bridal style into a grocery store and lets you pick out your favorite snacks.

Y��all go home and he makes a whole-ass nest of blankets and pillows on the living room floor. 

Pillow Fort™

No movies or tv shows with sad scenes are allowed in this domain. Only comedies and fluff flicks.

He’ll feed you candy then beg you to feed him some too.

By the end of the night, he’s given you a massage, a bubble bath, and a cuddle to sleep.

He’s a big teddy bear, but also a solid teddy bear, so he’s a lil hard to snuggle with, but he’s warm so you don’t care. 

In the end, expect many hugs and kisses from this man, he is a very physical lover. 

And yes, the next day you will get breakfast in bed. Or brunch technically bc you both slept in till eleven.

Kozume Kenma:

This man is a listener. That’s all I gotta say.

He’ll let you vent about everything that’s been going on, and let’s be honest, there’s really nothing better than that.

He’s just about the best guy to have around when you’re sad.

If you want a hug, just ask and he’ll give you one. If you want a kiss, he’ll give you one too.

Honestly, he just wants to see you go back to being your normal happy self, so he’ll appeal to your every wish. 

I mean… that’s it.

After you’ve vented all your problems, he’ll ask what else you wanna do.

You want hugs. And that’s a fact. 

So yeah, he’ll give you hugs, and then he’ll give you his hoodie, and then he’ll give you his game and show you how to play cuz this boy is 🥺 level 100

He’s been sad before (I mean they all have but Kenma doesn’t like having a sad s/o) so he wants you to feel better as soon as possible. 

“You’re pressing the wrong buttons, YN.”

“No I’m not! This game is just STUPID!”

“YOU’RE STUP- I mean, yes the game is very stupid, yes.”

Guess who doesn’t get to touch his gameboy anymore.

By the end of the day, you’re both passed out in bed holding each other. Each of you is swaddled in his huge hoodies and cradling each other closely. 

*Next day*

“Kenma, where’s your game? I think I know how to play now.”

“I lost it.”

(Press X to Doubt)

[boogiewrites]

No.9: The Body

Chapter Two

Characters: Diego Hargreeves & OFC Eve Corpuz

Summary: Eve, once a rebellious runaway had turned her life around through the help of others to now be a doctor. She tries to return the favor these days. When a mysterious man keeps popping up in her life, what will her natural talent for healing become when it finally meets someone else with abilities like hers? Diego begins to suspect there’s something amiss with the doctor that’s been helping him...

Warnings/Tags: Injury/Blood/Medical. Nothing too graphic. Banter. Some KLAUS!

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT! If you’d like added to the tags, just let me know. This is a multi-chapter fic.

Another evening to herself, as per usual, this time she’d taken the initiative to reheat her leftovers instead of stuffing them cold into her face in front of the fridge. With headphones in, she bobbed, moving loosely around the kitchen without a care. This is probably why the sudden appearance of the same stranger, if you could even call him that at this point, threw her entirely off track as she launched the spatula in her hand to his bent figure, holding himself up on her kitchen counter.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” Eve yells and she stumbles back against the opposite counter, headphone dangling around her neck as she fumbles blindly into a nearby drawer for a knife out of panic, “WHY ARE YOU IN MY APARTMENT? WAIT...HOW?”

“Ow.” is his response as his nose streams a tiny bit of blood into his facial hair.

“Sorry but I'll do it again if you try anything!”

“It’s ME!” he says clearly showing his face and motioning up and down to himself.

“That’s a little vague don’t you think?” she says back loudly, eyes still clearly wild.

“Sorry I- just needed help. I’m not gonna hurt you. I...kinda can’t right now.” he groans and she sees the blood covering most of his stomach now.

“Oh, shit, dude why didn’t you go to the hospital?”

“Well, you weren’t there were you?”

“Fuck’s sake,” she says holding her hand to her chest to feel her heart racing as she tried to calm down. She takes a deep breath, switching off the stovetop as she approached him. “You couldn’t have knocked?”

“Not really my thing…:”

“Neither is common sense it seems,” she mumbles and he grunts as she tries to examine him. “How did you know where I live?” she narrows her eyes at him. He was covered in sweat and clearly in a lot of pain from his pale face.

“Followed you.”

“Why were you following me?”

“You're the only real doctor I can trust. I needed your help didn’t I?” he sighs and slouches again, raising his shirt up to show multiple chunks missing.

“You need help alright. Shit…” she says moving to find her gloves in a cabinet. “Go...get in the bathtub, I’ll treat you there. Let me grab you some clothes.”

Only a nod and grunt in response as he headed into the bathroom.

She hands a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt that’ll easily fit him into the bathroom. “Leave your shirt off.” she says as she grabs her supply bag.

“I get that a lot.”

She lets a smile show as the door blocks their view of each other. He was a smart ass even in the middle of pain. She could relate to that. “I’m sure you do. Now let me know when I can come in.” A grunt serves as an answer and she enters, moving to help him and make as small of a mess as possible. An understanding of quiet rests between them as she works.

“NNGH--” he groans and bares his teeth as she digs to pull a slug out of his side. The damage was worse than she thought once she got closer. He hears the clatter of bullet pieces hit the metal bowl she has on the toilet next to the tub.

“Okay, Champ. You’re taking the pain well, the pills will kick in in a little bit.” She says sympathetically.

“You’re... good at this y’know.” he gives her a nod as she sews him up, a gentle touch despite being stabbed with a needle repeatedly.

“I’d hope so.” she lets out a huff of a laugh. “Thanks.” she offers up in politeness as they settle into a comfortable back and forth, the tension from before now gone as she was focused. AS she finished, she says, “I was wondering…?”

“Mmm?”

“Whats the bat cave-like? Does Bruce let you play with the toys?”

“Ha.” he gives in a deadpan delivery. “Very funny.” sarcastic heavy as always in their tone, but he actually meant it.

“Alright. That’s got you sewed up. This could’ve gone south really fast. Y’know.”  she says with more concern in her voice. “Since I keep saving you...can I know your name now? In case you kill me,  at least my ghost can try to solve the crime from behind grave. That  seems like a pretty cool afterlife.”

“Yeah, I’d watch that show.” He gives a grimace that was mean to be a smile. “I’m not gonna kill you,” he says defensively. “...M’Diego.” he sighs outs as she helps him stand. He already felt... better somehow. Maybe it was the pills.

“Oh, a little crime fighter like those kids in the 90’s huh?”

“Yeah..” he groans and averts his eyes.

“Sorry.” she chuckles. “You’re the only Diego I’ve ever met. Bad comparison?” she offers, nos wiping his face off with a cool cloth and he’s caught off guard by her closeness in his low blood leveled state.

“Nah he’s… okay, I guess,” he mumbles.

“I’ll clean this up, you go chill on the couch and I’ll be there in a second okay?”

“Kay.” He weakly answers. As soon as she turns on the showerhead to wash out the blood, he stumbles as he tries to support himself and she catches him.

“You are hurt bad aren’t you?” She says with real concern in her eyes and she helps him to the couch despite his weak protests to the contrary.  “Here.” she says helping him with his shirt then laying a blanket around his shoulders. “So...Diego…” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell me…” she pauses as he settles. “...do you like Chinese food?”

“Not where I thought you were going with that…”

“Well do you? You wanna eat?” she asks again moving into the kitchen.

“Weirdly, yeah.” he answers, eyes following her as she moved to go back to her former task of reheating food.

“This will help you deal with those pain pills easier. Soak it up a bit, instead of a straight shot of it.” she continues to feel him staring into her back as she moves around.

“Uh...thanks,” he says softly as she sits next to him on the couch.

“I’ll bill you later.”

He gives a tired smile and resituates to eat.

“You’ve lost a lot of blood. I would keep you for observation if we were at the hospital.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Gunshots are no joke. You’re lucky it didn’t nick your intestines.”

“That’s me... lucky.”

“Seems so…” she mumbles before pushing more noodles in her mouth. She watches him eat, good appetite for just getting shot, that was for sure.

“Not bad.” he says with a mouthful and a glassy look in his eyes that makes her chuckle.

“Help yourself if you want more. I have to get some sleep.” she stands and takes her plate with her.

“Oh, okay..well..uh...thanks..again.”

“Nah, nah, champ.” she says, a single hand keeping him on the couch.”You’re staying here. Because I don’t want you dying out there, alright?”

“I actually feel pretty g-”

“It’s the medication talking, you need to rest. But know...There are no weapons in this room but I have a gun in my bedroom and if you try anything I will not hesitate to use it.”

“Yes ma’am.” he nods and gives an almost cocky smile.

“Good.” she nods. “I have work and I’ll be up around 3, there are blankets and pillows all over in here, you’ll be able to get comfortable, just try not to bleed all over the couch if you can help it.”

“I’ll do my best... and if I think I’m dying?”

“Try to let me know so you don’t ruin the furniture please.”

He grins and gives an understanding nod. “I think I'll be fine.” he says through a yawn.

“Time’ll tell.” She stands one the doorway to her bedroom. “Night Diego. Don’t make me regret my hospitality.”

“I haven’t yet have I?”

“Jury’s still out. Get some rest.”

He waves a dismissive hand to her as he lays down on the couch. He seriously did feel better. Better than he should, he thought. But he was tired, and quickly that became his main focus. --------------

A tired but becoming more alert by the second Eve wafting her tea in front of Diego’s sleeping face. He looked almost childish despite the heavy 5 o clock shadow. His strong cheek and jaw gave an almost round appearance to his face. The smoosh of his cheek definitely didn’t hurt him looking less threatening.

“Diego.” She whispers as he begins to twitch. “Tea?”

“What’s..” he begins and quickly stops, looking around the room. “Oh. Uh, yeah.” He clears his throat and without much pain dramatization, he sat up and rubbed his face, taking the mug.

She sits with her mug clasped between her hands, on the other end of the couch

“This...what is this? It’s not good.”

She chuckles and looks his way.” It’s black breakfast tea. It has a little caffeine. Thought you could use it.”

He nods and looks into the mug, brow low but she couldn’t tell if it was from sleep or thinking.

“I’m gonna be leaving soon. If you don’t feel up to it, you don’t have to go. Since you can clearly break-in I figure there’s no point in telling you you have to leave.” She sips. “But I would request you don’t steal my stuff.”

“I’m not gonna steal anything.” he sleepily insists.

“I appreciate it.”  They sit as she enjoys her tea and the low noise from outside, the crossing of people just going to bed late, and others riding early are all that fills the quiet apartment.

“You’re a Doctor…”

“Uh huh.” She looks his way a bit confused at the sudden obvious statement

“You don’t act like any doctor I’ve known before. They’re usually dicks.”

“I try hard not to be a dick. So I’ll take that as a compliment”

“I mean, it was I guess. But you’re smart right? You gotta be to know all the...doctor stuff right?”

“Yes, college, med school, internships, residencies...did it all. I like to entertain the idea that I’m smart, yeah.”

“But...you’re being like… really, nice.” There's a Pause as she sees this as a rhetorical statement. “I mean you lied to the cops to help me.” He grins a bit and looks her way, breaking his thoughtful stare into nothing. “Why?”

She considers it a moment, looks twitching as she takes another drink. “I think...you remind me of me.” She answers and it’s one he didn’t expect. “I’ve been… maybe not in the same circumstances as you but I’ve at least been through some of the same consequences you have it seems. I’ve been injured and on the run. I would’ve really liked it if someone had given me the benefit of the doubt back then. So... I try to believe the best in people because that’s what I needed too.” It was an honest and heartfelt answer.

“You’ve been shot?”

“Shot AT.”

“But stabbed?”

“Stabbed? Yes.”

“What were you into? Tattoos make me think gang but none are from any I know.”

“I had some gang-related ones but I was never really, IN one ya know? I’ve got them covered up. It’s been a while since I’ve been that girl.”

“Seems like you’re still her to me.”

“How's that?”

“Wanted criminal hiding out and getting patched up in your apartment. You’re an accessory at least. Lying to the cops. Seems like you’re still her.” He picks at her but she doesn’t feel like he’s being judgemental. Not that he had the right to be.

“Yeah or maybe I’m just bad at making good decisions. Book sense and no common sense.”

“Nah. You’re plenty smart.”

“Thanks.” A calm smile is Shared briefly before they go back to their tea.  “Can I ask you personal questions now?” She means his way slightly.

“Shoot.”

“What do you do that keeps you getting hurt?”

“That is personal.”

“Well if you’ve done it this time and you’ve been in my ER twice, chances are you’re going to be interrupting my evening again, Hmm?”

“You are smart.”

“So for not just my safety, but also so I can effectively deny and deflect for either of us, can I know? I’m also plain old nosey at this point.”

“That’s… you’ve got a fair point.” He shrugs. “I’m a… private eye. Investigator.”

“I’ve not had one PI come in with injuries like yours.”

“Maybe I’m just a really good one and they aren’t.”

This makes her let out a laugh. “How could I have not considered that?” She rolls her eyes. “Are you a hitman? Because you dress like one. That or one hood away from a gimp.”

“Hey. My leather is NICE alright? Functional, stylish. Let’s people know what I’m about.”

“Wouldn’t a PI want to blend in?”

“Not one like me.”

“So you’re… self-employed? I don’t want to be involved in any government level bullshit alright?”

“Yeah people come to me when they need things… looked into.”

“You really sound like a hitman.”

“A vigilante. I’m the good guy. I help people with bad guys. Kay? I don’t go out looking to kill people.”

“They're certainly looking to kill you though.” She offers with an upturned hand as she rises.

“Yeah, the industry Christmas parties are real awkward.”

“Is the game always “dirty Santa” every year?”

He gives a small huff of amusement her way. “Yeah, sure.”

“So Diego… Let’s see those bandages.” She claps her hands.

“You could just ask for me to take off my shirt you don’t have to make excuses.” He smirks.

She ignores him as she’s getting the feeling this is just part of his personality. “There’s no blood somehow so don’t touch them 'til tonight okay? Don’t get them wet. Re bandage after a shower okay? You healed up from last time nice so you clearly know how to handle aftercare for wounds.”

“Oh yeah. I’m a professional.”

“For both of our sakes, I hope so.” She tugs his shirt back into place.

—

After she left, Diego was left alone and his curiosity got the better of him. Not liked he tried to fight the urge to go through Eve’s stuff in her absence, old habits die hard. —------- With his bloody clothes in tow, Diego makes his way to the apartment over the gym he and Luther now owned together. He’d bought out his old haunt, they met with branding people Allison suggested and he’d hated it all. He just wanted a place to train. Luther was thinking more business and long term, stability. Things Diego didn’t spend much time considering.

“Why are you in my apartment?” He barks out as Klaus sits with his feet up on Diego’s coffee table.

“I could ask you why you WERENT in your apartment.” He looks him over, piecing the story together. “You didn’t come back after a job, but you don’t look hurt, and you’re wearing...not your own clothes. But definitely no sex because you don’t have that puppy look in your eyes.”

“HEY! Stop acting like you know everything...and I don’t look like a puppy.”

“Yeah, that’s a definite no on the one-night stand option.”

He begins to throw Eve’s unisex clothing items off as he heads towards the shower.

“Diego? Have you ever done a… Fun Run for children’s charity before?”

“What the-? No, why?”

“Then why does your shirt claim otherwise?” Klaus holds up the old participation shirt Diego had been wearing.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn nosey. Why are you even here?”

“Five wanted a meeting tonight.”

“Ugh! Why?”

“Oh, you know him...probably something apocalyptic.”

“We agreed to no jokes about that. I get fuckin….it bothers me, man.”

“Alright, I don’t know why. He’s been very up his own ass the past few days.”

“When is he not?”

“Some people like it up the ass Diego. Don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.”

“Do you ever shut up?”

“I believe I’ve been told no but I couldn’t really hear them over my talking.”

“What do you WANT?”

“To know where you were.”

“I was busy.” he flatly answers.

“And with what,  pray tell?”

“The takedown went sideways. I got shot. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Look at that almost.. 2 and a half pack there.” Klaus points to Diego’s torso with fresh pink scars he assumed were far older and that his brother was, once again, is full of shit. “You seem to be doing just fine now.”

“Yeah...that’s kinda why I was gone.” Diego lets his hands run over the healed wounds on his stomach.

“Where’d you even get shot? I don’t see anything but reminders of your shortcomings.” He tickles at a scar on Diego’s side.

“Quit it.” He slaps Klaus’ hands away. “I got shot last night. Here. Like I said, and you would’ve heard that if you were listening.”

“I think someone got rufied and they’re too scared to admit it. It happens to the best of us b-“

“No. I know what I’m talking about! It was here. Now it’s healed.”

Klaus blinks thoughtfully at the spot his brother is furiously pointing to. “Where the fuck is it then?” he asks with a hand on his hip.

“There’s this doctor-”

“Pretty good fuckin’ doctor!”

“Right?! It’s happened twice now! I didn’t know if I was losin’ it or what the first time. But this healed even faster this time.”

“So we talkin’...aliens? Medical science experiments on the public?”

“That’s where I went to first-” he says seriously and Klaus rolls his eyes. “But she’s-”

“Oh SHE?”  he asks rhetorically in surprise. “Nice. Girl power." he holds up an ignored fist of solidarity.

Diego continues as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I’ve checked her out man-”

“Bet ya have…” Klaus mutters.

“...she’s... normal. I can’t find shit on her.”

“Well as normal as having healing powers goes…”

Diego’s eyes shoot wide to his brothers whose body language of casual contemplation is opposite of Deigo’s.

“You think she..?”

“At this point, why the fuck not? I mean with…” he clears his throat as the delicate subject of Lila comes up. “She who will not be named... she had them... we didn’t know about her. Stranger things have happened.”

“Nah she’s not..” he begins but Klaus quickly sees the wheels turning in his brother's darting eyes.

“Is she not?” he offers with squinted eyes. “I mean if you’d done your detective work as well as you say you have-”

“I HAVE!”

“Then it seems as if it’s one of the more plausible options out of the bunch, hmmm?”

Diego says nothing but considers the advice. “I need to find out...but how.” a bit of an overdramatic delivery in Klaus’s opinion of the cliche line, but he answered with his usual cautiously optimistic tone when he gave this particular sibling advice. He was such a sensitive boy, after all, under all that leather.

“I have this wild idea... now here me out... but what if you...ya with me still? Good. Now, what if you… just ask her.” he delivers with a swing of his hand.

“Oh, hey!” Diego mocks the plan. “Yeah, do you happen to have superpowers?” he stops his mocking tone. “Because that would go SO well.”

“Ya either do somethin’ or ya don’t Diego. I’m overdue for a good sweat and this vibe you’re bringing in my space-”

“This is MY apartment!” he shouts.

“..my personal, space, is far too uptight for my brand right now so I’m gonna leave.”

“Good! That's what I’ve wanted this whole time. Thank you!”

“No problem, babe. You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he leans against the door frame with batting eyes only to add a bit more red onto the annoyed man’s face.

Diego reaches for the nearest object, “GetOutYouLittle-UNG!” he grunts as he throws it at Klaus’ head it’s caught with the door as he rushed it shut.

@jaegeeeeer​ @s-h-e-w-r-i-t-e-s​

[starker-stories]

Piercing Play

Title: Piercing Play Link: AO3 Square Filled: G-1 Ship: Starker, Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: E Major Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply Piercings, Tongue Piercings, Ear Piercings, Nipple Piercings, Corset Piercings, Dom/sub Undertones, Aftercare, Possessive Tony Stark

Summary: “Your body retracts in anticipation of the pain,” he explained as he took the forceps from Peter’s hand. “If you did somehow manage to push the needle through — put your tongue out, Peter.” Peter did. Tony situated the forceps, gently pressing them together. “You’d likely flinch…” He took the needle in his right hand and held it above Peter’s tongue, in the center of the forceps opening. “And wind up with a crooked, at best,” he paused, “piercing.” He pushed the needle through.

Created for @mcukinkbingo​

Peter had been fascinated by the idea ever since he saw pictures online. But he healed quickly. Perhaps too quickly. Experiments would have to be performed before he brought the idea up to Tony. But that alone, was another whole issue. What if Tony didn’t want to do it? Worse, what if Tony thought he was weird for wanting it done? Still, experimentation didn’t commit to anything, right? He could just accumulate data and then never act on them.

∼∼∼∼∼

Tony stared back at Peter as he went around him to get his breakfast. He smiled.

“What?” Peter said, offended at the scrutiny.

Tony kept smiling cryptically.

“I found it in your jewelry drawer!”

“Um hmm.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Why is it weird for me to wear it when you used to!”

“Never said it was weird, Pete. I was just surprised. You’re so stubborn about me buying you jewelry. A one carat fancy red diamond… it’s ostentatious even for me.”

“A diamond? I thought it was, I dunno, a garnet? That’s May’s birthstone.”

“No, baby. It’s a diamond. Red’s the rarest color. I bought it… I don’t know why… on a whim. I’ve never worn it. I haven’t worn an earring since I was at MIT. But the clarity and color are perfect. Because it’s a single earring, not a set, I got it for one point two instead of the four it’s worth, even as a single stone. I forgot all about it until this morning. When’d you get your ear pierced?”

“One point two… You mean million?” Peter squeaked and went to remove the gold stud.

“Keep it. It’s pretty on you.” He bent over and put a kiss behind Peter’s ear, behind the earring. Tony smirked. “You know I can’t resist it when you wear my colors.”

Peter blushed. “I don’t know if it’ll last or I’ll heal out of it. I did it myself when I first woke up. This morning.” He paused, screwing up his face. “Alone. In Bed. Again.”

“Sorry. Finally solved the problem I’ve been having with the glove. I’m gonna crash while you’re in class.” He downed the rest of his orange juice and started toward the bedroom. He stopped and looked back at Peter and smiled again, taking in the gold stud with its sparkling red diamond that was in his ear. “That’ll probably stay as long as you keep it in. As soon as you take it out, though, it’ll close up because of your healing.”

“I can keep it?” Peter asked.

“Yep. You finally let me give you something expensive,” he teased.

∼∼∼∼∼

Tony was right. The earring stayed as long as he left it through the hole. When he took it out, it closed up even before he could put the earring back in. He had to pierce it all over again.

So Peter knew that a piercing, left in, would stay. Even knowing that, it took longer for him to work up the nerve to do the next experiment. He’d read that piercings didn’t always stay, even for non-enhanced people. In a lot of places, they simply worked their way back out. Especially if the piercing was through a flat part of the body, instead of a dangly bit like an earlobe. If a normal human rejected a piercing like that, what hope did a spider-bitten one have?

Then, as always, there was the issue of finding out if Tony was interested.

Maybe it was because he felt bold in the mornings. He waited until Tony would be tired. When he had been working through the night again. Peter laid everything out on the glass topped table and propped the magnifying mirror up where he could see himself.

“Ow ow ow.” The ear piercing didn’t hurt like that! He was being a baby. He couldn’t be hurt. Peter tried again. “OUCH!”

Tony walked into the dining room, watched the situation, and finally gave himself away by chuckling.

Peter jumped. He hadn’t realized he’d been being watched. “It’s not funny!”

“You do realize if you do that, you’re not going to be able to kiss me for two weeks,” Tony said, amused.

“I don’t get infections,” Peter said, irritatedly.

“It’s a little harder to do to yourself than an earlobe.”

“Yes! It shouldn’t be.”

“Mmm.” Tony came and sat in the chair next to Peter’s at the dining table. He turned until they were facing each other. “Your body retracts in anticipation of the pain,” he explained as he took the forceps from Peter’s hand. “If you did somehow manage to push the needle through — put your tongue out, Peter.” Peter did. Tony situated the forceps, gently pressing them together. “You’d likely flinch…” He took the needle in his right hand and held it above Peter’s tongue, in the center of the forceps opening. “And wind up with a crooked, at best,” he paused, “piercing.” He pushed the needle through.

The sound Peter made was garbled around the protruding needle through his tongue, but the expression on his face was clear. And noticed by Tony. It was anything but pain.

He pushed the stainless steel barbell through Peter’s tongue. “That’ll do until I can get you something better to replace it. But baby, you can’t just be buying your jewelry from,” he took in the quality of the piercing kit spread on the table, “Ebay.”

“Will it stay?” Peter asked thickly. He stuck his tongue out and looked at it in the mirror.

“Same as your ear. As long as something’s in it, it’ll stay,” Tony said. He got up and brought Peter a glass of crushed ice. “Suck on this to keep the swelling down.”

“You knew how to do that,” Peter said, his words broken by bouts of sucking on ice.

“Um hmm.” Tony cleaned up the table. “I know you can’t get an infection, but you should still do the mouthwash thing. About once an hour. You’ll probably be healed around the barbell by afternoon.”

“That wasn’t your first time,” Peter said, a little surprised.

“Nope.” Tony wrapped the needle in a pad of foil until it wouldn’t poke through, then sealed it in a baggie then threw it away. “This some college thing?” Tony asked. “It’s mainstream now, isn’t it?”

“There’s… I know a few people who have tongue piercings. Or lip ones. It looked… interesting,” Peter explained.

“When I was in school, it was just the punks and goths… and the kinky.”

Peter sideeyed Tony. “Your entire life is in the media somewhere. If you were punk or goth, there’d be pictures for me to laugh at.”

“One would think,” Tony said, noncommittally.

Peter rolled his eyes. “And I had this whole… thing… planned.”

Tony smiled. “I’ll bet. I could keep playing dumb and let you. It’d be cute.”

“I hate you.”

“If you hate me, baby…” Tony inched closer, running the palms of his hands up Peter’s thighs. He stopped when they were framing the prominent bulge in Peter’s jeans. He leaned closer and whispered against the red diamond earring in Peter’s ear. “Who’s going to push needles through your pretty pale pink skin?”

“They won’t last, I’ve tried on my arm,” Peter said, his words gasped on heavy breaths.

“There has to be a flap of skin for a piercing to be permanent,” Tony explained. “Surface piercings last for a few months or so, if they’re done right. But that’s on ordinary people. You’ll probably heal it out, even if I put the right jewelry in.”

“Oh,” Peter said, disappointed. He could already tell that his tongue was healing.

“That’s not a bad thing though. If it lasted a few hours, that would be enough. Then,” Tony said, a wicked gleam in his eye, “I would get to start all over on skin that hadn’t been toughened and desensitized by repeated piercings.”

∼∼∼∼∼

It became a thing for them. A special night. Peter would suggest a new place to pierce and Tony would oblige. The tongue piercing didn’t affect him. But once piercing moved off of the dining chair and into the bedroom, Tony was more than just obliging. And Peter was getting more out of the experience than a new piece of expensive jewelry.

When Tony pierced him, it was more than just a matter of pushing a needle through skin. Tony’s hands wandered before finally piercing a hole in Peter’s body. No need to worry about infection, he kissed the place his needle went. He kissed Peter’s lips as he dragged a needle across his skin, watching the red line form and immediately disappear. He drew abstract patterns while Peter moaned and panted in anticipation of Tony forcing the needle through the chosen place.

Tony pressed his thigh against Peter’s jeans-covered crotch allowing him to frot against it until he came in his pants. Which is how he came twice when his nipples were pierced. Tony came after, while he sucked on Peter’s nipples and played with the rings he’d just put in.

Peter learned that there was a type of piercing called ‘spider bites’, which was of course impossible not to resist. Tony made two holes close to each other, right underneath Peter’s bottom lip line, at the corner of his mouth. After putting in the twin rings, Tony fucked his face, moaning at the sensation of the spider bites and Peter’s tongue piercing.

There was more piercing on his earlobes, yielding two on each side. But that wasn’t the end of protruding bits of flesh where the rings would stay in. He had his traguses done. Two helix and one forward helix. His jewelry was small and delicate, but made of gold with precious gems.

Tony found out that if he coated the needle with an alkali solution, it slowed Peter’s healing. His belly button piercing stayed in over a day. But he woke up and found the banana ring lying on the bed underneath him.

“Baby, you have an outie. That makes it basically a surface one. Not gonna last,” Tony explained.

Peter still pouted over losing the beautiful, diamond encrusted jewelry.

“I’ll have the stones remounted in something that will stay.”

A week later, Tony pushed a very long needle through the center of Peter’s hand. He carefully ran it between the bones of his second and ring finger. The end of the bar that was in his palm was a tiny little ball with one small diamond in it. It wouldn’t interfere with the function of Peter’s hand at all. But the end that was on the back of his hand was a laser carved peridot, Peter’s birthstone. It was surrounded by a ring of diamonds. The carving on Peter’s right hand was an elaborate T. The one on his left was an S. Any mark Tony wanted to put on Peter never stayed. This would.

∼∼∼∼∼

A couple months later, Tony found a set of four pictures on his desk. Surface piercings all. And he wanted all four done in a single session. It would take over an hour to complete the patterns, if not longer. By the time he finished the last, the first would be rejected by Peter’s body. They had brief sessions where Tony tried out various things to extend the wound time. When he got it up to three hours, he agreed to do the corset piercings Peter wanted.

∼∼∼∼∼

The guest room had a massage table in the center. It was brightly lit, but only with dozens and dozens of candles. Tony had a surgical tray set up with specially coated needles, forceps, gentian violet, scissors and several rolls of ribbon.

∼∼∼∼∼

Peter was riding an endorphin high. It stopped hurting eight needles into their session. But that couldn’t take away from the excitement of needle after needle piercing twice through each pinch of skin. The pop of it going in. The push and drag of it coming out.

His breathing was heavy but steady. He held it as soon as Tony lightly touched the sharp point to his skin, before he pushed it in. A little warning to him that the piercing was coming.

Thirty-six times. Alternating sides on his back. Moving each pair in towards his spine a little closer then out again, forming an hourglass shape. There was a tug on each ring as the bead snapped in. Then the quiet hiss as the ribbons were threaded through. Tony tugged on them, pulling them tight as he laced them in an intricate pattern. Peter can feel the skin pinched together toward his spine as he pulls the ribbons tighter.

“Sit, baby,” Tony said gently. He guided him carefully from laying on his stomach to sitting up on the table. “You okay, Pete?”

Peter hummed his assent.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes, Tony.” Peter’s voice was soft and floating, and as high as he was.

“Look up now, precious.”

Peter tilted his head up. The neck lacing piercings were more painful, but Tony was very skilled with the needle. He tried to get it over with as soon as possible.

“Too fast,” Peter said, panting.

“Hurts?”

Peter shook his head. “Too fast. Can’t feel it enough.”

Tony smirked. “All right baby. These are shallow. I’ll take my time.” He listened for Peter’s fast and heavy breaths. Not strained. Just filled with pleasure. He looked down at Peter’s hard cock. “Gonna have to let me give you a Jacob’s ladder one of these times. “I don’t want any genital piercings. I’ve looked at them, they don’t appeal to me. I don’t want anything to get in the way.”

“All right, baby. But if you change your mind, I think you’d like the sensation.”

“I like this sensation,” Peter said between bouts of panting. “So shut up.”

Tony gave a little laugh. “All right.” He pushed two more needles into Peter’s throat. “I’ll just keep putting beautiful things into your beautiful body so that I know you’re mine,” he purred.

Peter whimpered as the last needles went in on either side of his Adam’s apple.

“Rings now, baby.” Tony never used anything less than gold. Each corset ring was custom made. Each little captive bead, no matter how small, had a little TS engraved in it. For Peter, piercing was about sensation. For Tony it was about ownership.

Yet for each, it was also the other’s.

Peter took pride in every little mark on his jewelry. Sometimes it was hidden, engraved on the bar of a barbell where only Peter and Tony knew it existed. Other times it was blatantly obvious, like on Peter’s hands. Every mark claimed him as Tony’s. He’d be sitting in class and get hard just by looking at the backs of his hands. Peter was owned. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

The sensation Peter was addicted to, Tony was addicted to causing. He loved feeling the resistance as the needle went in. But more than that, he loved the little gasping moan that Peter gave. Sometimes, if it was a thicker needle, or in a more sensitive place, that moan became a cry of intense pleasure and Peter came just from Tony’s needle, no frotting or handjob required. The kid could come just from Tony making Peter’s body his.

“There, Pete. All laced up,” he said after he tied the knot on his chest. “Are you sure you want to go on to the next?”

“Yes Tony.” Peter’s voice was desperate, the way he sounded when he was right on the edge of coming and couldn’t quite get there.

“Which one next, abs or feet?”

“Abs. Please save my feet for last,” Peter whimpered.

It was another long piercing. Lots of tiny little rings to be laced together. Peter chose a set of colors, unlike the plain black on his back and neck. Tony paused halfway done and looked over Peter’s shoulder at his back lacings. They were all still in place, even though they’d usually be coming out by now.

Tony caught a pinch of skin over Peter’s gorgeous abs in his forceps. Instead of immediately doing the piercing, he used multiple pairs of forceps and clicked them together on all of the outer run of positions at once.

“I’ll give you the slow ones you want when I do the center row. These are mine, baby.” Tony’s hands were fast and he used a needle gauge two sizes larger than was required. They made such a lovely, visible hole.

Fast. One right after another. Not even giving Peter time to take a breath between. His attempts to gasp in air only made his head spin. Tony was rock hard against Peter’s own erection as he straddled his thighs.

“Oh baby,” he groaned, looking at the needles sticking out of Peter’s flesh. The drips of blood running down from each. But he didn’t take long to appreciate the visuals. Just as fast he threaded the golden rings back through the holes and snapped their beads into place, giving them a very deliberate tug and twist as he did.

Releasing the forceps was like releasing nipple clamps. Peter cried out as full sensation rushed back into the pinched skin. “Oh Tony!” But his erection never flagged. Quite the opposite. He was straining hard in his briefs. Tony was naked, started out that way. Peter always liked a little bit of clothes on during the sessions.

When Peter screamed Tony came all over the kid’s stomach. Including on some of his fresh abs piercings. The sudden force of his orgasm had him falling forward, as he often did, laying down on Peter’s body. That scream wasn’t pleasurable for either of them. In his moment of passion, Tony had forgotten about the pulled tight corset piercings on Peter’s back.

“Oh fuck, baby, I’m sorry,” Tony said, lifting up fast.

“Check!” Peter said, frantically worried. “Did they pull out?” He sat up on the massage table.

Tony looked over at them. All the ribbons and rings were still in place. “Everything’s still beautiful, darling, just like you,” he said kissing Peter’s shoulder. “Pete, just because you found four pictures doesn’t mean you need all four done at once. Baby, it’s too much for you.”

“No it’s not, Tony.”

“What if I simply laced the edges on your abs, and we see about doing one foot. I know that was something you really wanted,” he said, tenderly. “It will look like little ballet slippers on your feet. But I only want to do one today. Both on another day. Cinderella lost his other slipper at the ball.” Tony lifted Peter’s face and gave him a slow, deep kiss as he reached down and caressed his erection in his briefs.

Peter sighed, disappointed with himself, but the cold sweat he was breaking out in told him that Tony was right. It was too much for one session. “I wanted it so badly.”

“Baby, you’ve been amazing. So much better than anyone else ever could’ve been. Each one of these that you’ve chosen is a full session, Pete. And you’ve done three.” Tony placed one tray of instruments on the floor and sat down beside it. He raised his knee and tapped the back of Peter’s calf. “Come on, my handsome prince. Let me see if the slipper you left behind at the ball fits that gorgeous foot of yours.”

Peter balanced his foot on Tony’s thigh, pointing his toes downward. “Okay Prince Charming.”

Tony smiled up at his boy. “Five down either side and one just below your middle toe. Can you do that, precious?”

Peter bit his lip. “Um hmm. Yes Tony.” His hand replaced where Tony’s had been and he gently massaged himself through his underwear.

The skin on the top of Peter’s foot was tight over the structure of it. A forceps wasn’t able to grasp enough to be effective. Tony laid out eleven curved needles. He slowly worked each of them through Peter’s thin, delicate skin on top of Peter’s foot. Followed by a slender gauge captive gold bead ring. The color laces would change the look. White or black and they’d look like laces for Converse. But in the broad pink ribbon does indeed make Peter’s foot look like a ballet or ballroom slipper. Tony ties a pretty bow right at the bottom of Peter’s middle toe. Meeting his gaze, he kisses his sweet prince’s foot then lets it dangle loosely, helping to arch the boy’s foot into pointing his toes gracefully downward.

Tony rose and knelt behind Peter on the massage table. “Do you feel how beautiful you are, Peter?” he asked, pressing lightly up against the laced pierced corset on his back. He reached around the front of the boy and massaged his erection through his briefs with deliberateness. He looked down Peter’s front over his shoulder. His come was splattered there. But on the left side was a smaller corset piercing in black and pink. With a finger under the boy’s chin, he leaned it back to rest on his shoulder and kissed the side of Peter’s neck as his massaging became stroking.

He ran his fingertips over the piercings on the side of the boy’s neck. Tony placed a kiss over them, and he reached into Peter’s underwear and began to jerk him off. “Look down, baby. Look at your foot. It’s so beautiful, just like the rest of you.”

“Oh,” he gasped out at both the sight and the movement of Tony’s hand. “Tony… it’s…”

“Perfect, darling, but not nearly as perfect as you are. You were so good for me, Pete.” He felt Peter’s cock jump at his praise. “No one has ever been so good for me.” The boy pulsed in his hand. Throbbed. Tensed. And came gently. Shuddering with it. Gasping softly, his lips parted, they and his cheeks flushed red. “My Peter. Such an absolutely perfect… model.” Tony hesitated at using the word sub. That was a discussion they hadn’t had yet. But with the way that Peter got a rush from the pain and the submission, the way he’d sub drop after he came and needed Tony so desperately — which was one of the things he loved most about the D/s scene. How needy his sub always became. How needy Peter became. How the boy clung to him. Whimpering against his chest, sometimes crying, clinging, shuddering, looking to Tony as the only solid, real thing in his world.

Peter was already seeking out the comfort of being held. “Shh, baby. I’m going to unlace your back first. Just a little while longer.”

“Do you have to?” Peter’s words were shaking. Tony could see the signs of the kid’s drop approaching. “They’ll fall out soon.”

“You’re right, Pete. If you’re comfortable with me holding you with them still in…”

“I like that,” Peter said quietly.

“Mmm,” Tony hummed low in his throat. He liked it too. But he was always careful not to assume anything when it came to Peter’s limits. He gathered his boy into his lap, pulling him close.

“You can just stay here. You don’t have to pose to get the pictures you want, sweetheart,” Tony murmured as he put soft little kisses on Peter’s temple. “FRIDAY has the pictures and video. We can sort through it later.”

Peter wasn’t quite ready to have the discussion that his desire brought up. Ever since he realized the reaction he had to the pain of piercing, he’d been reading. For some people it was only the endorphin rush of piercing that they sought out, nothing more. He knew that wasn’t all it was for him. The little marks of Tony’s possessiveness (ownership?) that he carried on each item of jewelry was an important part of it. The prominent marks etched into the peridot’s on his hands. The way that his friends in college, even those into piercings and tattoos, looked at his hand piercings with a little shock and even horror.

He’s been asked what he’s become to refer to as the question. And it’s answer is probably yes. But it scared him. What if Tony’s not into this in the same way as he is. What if he is and is into so much more than Peter’s ready to explore yet.

This part of it… what they called ‘aftercare’, it’s something that Tony always did for him. He held him close in his arms. He pressed soft kisses to the top of his head. Tony whispered quiet praise and appreciation. And he seemed to hesitate just before certain words might come out. Words that would put definition to things they weren’t ready to define yet.

But words that they were both becoming unable to deny for much longer. Especially after that night.

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

[hoboal87]

Some thoughts and a quasi fix-it on the Finale (SPOILERS)

I want to preface this by saying that I like the finale, if you didn’t, I completely get that, and if you just want to say nasty things, you can move on to the next post =)

I’ll try to keep my thoughts coherent, but no promises. Obviously, a lot of things had to change with this final episode of COVID-19, and I’ll try to address how I think they could’ve worked around it without changing the essence of this episode, which again, I’ll reiterate, I liked.

Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

As the episode opens, we see the boys living a “normal” life. They don’t have to worry about cosmic entities anymore, they can just do what they do best. I honestly loved this, the boys just being domestic: cooking breakfast, doing research, doing laundry, all of it. My one complaint about this opening montage is there is no clear passage of time. How long has it been since Chuck was rendered powerless? A day? A week? A few months? A year? In my opinion, it’s been maybe a couple of weeks, but I feel like the writers were trying to imply that it’s been a couple of months and it was just unclear. For me, that would have solved one of my few issues with the episode. So let's change it up a little =)

We open similarly, but in the background, we can see the date it is actually five years (or whatever amount) later. The boys are getting ready for their respective days, Dean is living in an apartment over a bar, and we watch as Sam returns from his run and enters a small house. Dean doesn’t just live above the bar, he owns it, finally having some normalcy in his life, this is what wants. He proudly displays pictures of Sam, Bobby, Mary and John, his own way of keeping them close.Sam walks into the kitchen and sees a note on the refrigerator.

“Gone to get supplies, see you tonight, Love, E.”

Sam smiles at the note as he twirls the silver band on his finger, taking in the black and white sonogram displayed prominently next to the note. We follow Sam through the house, and we see photos of his and Eileen’s wedding, and pictures of their families. His kids will never have questions about their pasts, about their families, Sam and Eileen are intent on that.

Dean opens his bar, it’s a steady crowd, flirts with some of the women, but isn’t really pursuing anything, he’s closed himself off to the idea of a wife and kids. He’s got a nephew that’ll be here in a few months anyway, and he’s already told Sam how he plans to spoil that kid rotten. We cut between Sam and Dean, watching them go through their day, Dean working at the bar, Sam with papers splayed in front of him, implying he’s gone back to school. They’re both content, finally getting what they’ve always truly wanted. They still hunt, that much is apparent as we see them at one point cleaning their weapons or doing research.

As Dean closes up the bar he sends Sam a message.

“You ready for tomorrow?”

Sam rolls his eyes playfully, “are you sure its the best idea?”

“Hell, yes. I was born ready, it’s my destiny. Tomorrow 8 am.”

This would be, maybe a 5 to 7 minute opening scene? Then we get the title card. The rest of the episode plays the same from here. Sam and Dean go on a mini-vacation, which turns into a hunt.

So about Dean’s death. I wouldn’t change a single thing.

Personally, I don’t think there was any other way to end the series. As a bunch of people pointed out, Dean’s been saying some form of “I die bloody” since the beginning of the show. Now, did I want Dean to die? No. Dean deserved to live a full and happy life, but as Michael said, “since when do we get what we deserve?”

I rewatched the episode yesterday, and I SOBBED like a fucking baby throughout Dean’s death scene. I will agree it was a little Wincest-y, but, honestly, is it really that surprising? Sam and Dean have only ever had each other. Dean raised Sam, Dean is Sam's parent in every way that counts. A user pointed out, I’m so sorry if you see this please let me know and I will tag to your post, Dean speech starts more as a father to son type instead of brother to brother.

Sam is in shock when Dean tells him that he’s hurt, immediately going with “I’ll get the first aid kit.” The look on Dean’s face is heart-breaking, and you can see that he has already accepted his fate, he’s known since the second that the rebar (NOT A FUCKING NAIL) went through him that he was not walking away. Sam is going through all the stages of grief in just a few minutes.

Denial – “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

Anger – “No, we are gonna get [the boys] somewhere safe.”

Bargaining – “I’ll find a way, I’ll find another way.”

Depression – “Don’t leave me. I can’t do this alone.”

Acceptance – “It’s okay, Dean. You can go now.”

All the while, Dean is telling Sam how proud of him he is, and that he “loves [Sam] so much.” Now, please correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe that this is the first time that Dean has said to Sam that he loves him. I know we’ve heard him say it to other people and it’s definitely been implied, and the closest we got was in sacrifice, “don’t you think that there is anything, past or present, that I would put in front of you.”

Dean died in his brother’s arms, which to me, was beautiful. Can you imagine, though, Sam, carrying his brother’s lifeless body back to the Impala, setting him down gingerly in the back seat and driving back to the bunker?

I believe that we were supposed to get a lot of people at Dean’s funeral. Jody, Donna, Charlie, Bobby, Claire, (honestly, probably anyone who could be there.) But with travel restrictions into Vancouver, this had to change. It is not realistic for the writers/producers to ask people to quarantine for 2 weeks to shoot a half-day (if that) of filming. I did see that Samantha Ferris did say she wasn’t spoken to about the possibility of returning. I truly believe Shoshanna was supposed to be in this episode, but, her role was going to be very limited, and as much as I wanted to see her (obviously, from the above section) I firmly believe that she was supposed to be the woman Sam married.

Again let’s fix the second half of the episode:

Sam and Eileen give Dean a hunter’s funeral, and Sam quits the life altogether. He doesn’t want his son to ever lose him to a hunt. Eileen helps Sam through his depression, knowing exactly how it feels to lose your family. We get a similar montage, Sam takes over the bar, takes in Miracle, and keeps the Impala tucked away, for now, it’s too painful to even look at. Sam leaves Dean’s apartment as is for the longest time, afraid to move anything, what if he forgets where to put it back? We can see he’s just going through the motions, that is, until his son is born.

We see Sam cradling a newborn in his arms, Dean had joked from the moment Eileen announced her pregnancy that they should name the baby after him. Sam and Eileen laughed him off at the time, saying the world only ever needed one Dean Winchester. But now, Sam can’t think of any better way to honor his brother, than to name his son Dean.

Dean is in Heaven, greeted by Bobby who tells him all about new Heaven. Jack fixed it, and it is the Heaven that Dean deserves. When Bobby mentions Cas, Dean smirks, and Bobby assures him that Cas is around. Dean spots Baby, and tells Bobby that he's going to take her for a drive. Dean doesn’t know how long he's going to drive, but remembers Bobby’s words, “time works different up here,” and knows that eventually Sam will join him.

Dean watches from afar as Sam lives on, raising his son and daughter (cause honestly Sam would want more than one kid), he keeps them knowledgeable about the life, but they don’t hunt. On Dean Jr.’s eighteenth birthday Sam takes him to get an anti-possession tattoo, but it is more of a symbol to honor his family, Sam teaches Dean about the Impala, and how to take care of her, and he’s a natural mechanic just like his Uncle. Once a year, on the anniversary of his brother’s death, Sam sits in Baby, and feels connected to Dean, telling him much he misses him and how he wishes he was with him.

Dean watches as Sam grows old, and keeps his word, even though Sam didn’t know it, he’s been by his side the whole time. On his deathbed, Sam is surrounded by his children and Eileen (or an Eileen stand-in), who tell him it’s okay to go, and tells them all how much he loves them before letting go.

We cut to Dean, waiting on a bridge, the same one from his and Sam’s first hunt, and he can feel himself becoming whole again.

“Heya Sammy.”

[badwritingbuttriessometimes]

Names & Places 3

AU: where important people in your life have their name tattooed on your body. Family is on the left side of the chest- close to the heart. Friends are on the right side of the chest- almost family; chosen family. Love interests are on the right wrist

Teaser Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: swearing, not edited, I changed the AU so love interests are on the wrist not first touch

And your name appears on his arm

Tom looks at his wrist then back to you. Wrist. You. Wrist. You.

And he smiles to himself. In beautiful calligraphy Y/N is written on his arm. He leans against the counter and reads your name over and over again, tracing the lines with his fingers.

He liked he. He always knew he did but he just never knew it was like this. Sure, he gave you more attention that his other friends and hung out with you a lot more. He put more effort into his relationship with you. Hell- he even asked his mom how to slow dance so he could hold you close.

It became a little thing between the two of you. Whenever one of you was stressed, the other would begin swaying and soon you’d be in eachothers embrace slowly circling the room. Tom secretly loved exam season. You were constantly studying with flash cards, textbooks, notebooks, highlighters, sticky notes, coloured pens, and anything else staples had to offer. Around 11:45 every night without fail you would go to make some coffee and there was Tom, in the middle of the kitchen, swaying. He always had soft music coming from his phone. You always said you had too much to go over. He never took no for an answer. He would always take your hand and spin you into his chest until you decided to give yourself a break. Then the two of you would dance to the soft music from his phone. You’d lay your head on his shoulder and he’d pull you in closer and every time he spun you out after that moment, you would say, “okay okay I really have to get back”. You would then grab your freshly brewed coffee and begin round two of your studying regime.

Tom loved doing that with you. But it’s nowhere near exams. He looked back at you, passed out on the couch, pillow now under your head. The blanket thrown from your shoulders to your stomach, only covering your legs to your belly button. Your arms splayed out over your head.

That gave Tom an idea.

If I like her... what are the chances she likes me back? I really shouldn’t. What if she doesn’t like me back? What if it’s just me? Does she not feel the same way?

“But what if she does?” Harrison’s groggy voice cuts through the silence and Tom’s not-so internal monologue.

“What? Who?” Tom asked, trying to play coy

“Tom, mate, buddy, how long have we known each other? A while, yeah? You think I don’t know about your all-consuming love for Y/N?” Haz asks, placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder

“It’s not all-consuming” he pouts

“If it’s not all-consuming, why did you ask your mum how to slow dance? And ask your brother how to make whatever they’re called?”

“First of all, slow dancing is a skill everyone should know. And second, they’re called crepes.” Harrison gives Tom a full look “what? Remember when Y/N told that joke ‘French pancakes really give me the crepes’? That was funny!”

“Whatever you say mate” Harrison says, grabbing a bottle of water before heading back to his room

“So wait. Are-are you saying I should look at her wrist?”

“What’s stopping you?” Haz replies before closing his door

“Fear, panic, the usual romantic roadblocks” Tom mutters to himself

I could get a flower and count the bloody petals maybe that’ll work. Tom thinks to himself. It can be tomorrows problem. And with that he heads to your room for the night. You weren’t using it someone might as well

You woke up around 8:45, before the boys, so you grab your keys and wallet and set off for the bakery three blocks over. By the time you return, Tom’s just leaving your room with a look of pure confusion on his face.

“Y/N?” He asks, looking to the now empty couch. Apparently he didn’t hear your keys or you open the door.

“Yeah?” You say, closing the door with your foot and placing the green box on the counter. Tom jumped at the sound of your voice coming from over there but relaxes when he sees the box.

“Whatcha got there, love?”

“Breakfast? Unless you want cereal but I think the pantry’s empty.” You say, smiling with a knowing look in your eye. He never gives up bakery food. Ever.

“Haha you’re so funny” he says sarcastically “what’s today’s selection?”

You open the box and list off, “a cinnamon bun, raspberry danish, apple turnover, dibs don’t even, and a blueberry muffin” you say, calling dibs on a slice of banana bread.

“Did you get that because of how I say it?” Tom asks, pointing at the croissant you ‘forgot’ to mention

“No, no. Not all all. No idea what you’re on about.” You say before you shove the banana bread in your mouth

“And you’re not an actor because?” You tried your laugh but a full mouth makes that difficult. As you chewed you walked towards Harrison’s room, knocking you said, “hey bud I got food!”

A low grumbling was his response

“Green box” you singsong. Some creaks and rumbling noises follow and just like that he’s ready for the day. He looks into the box of sweets and observes, “I see you got Tom’s favourite French food”

“That’s how you pronounce it” Tom insists

“Sure it is”

“It is!”

“Okay you two debate, I’m gonna put on something that’s not pyjamas that barely pass as clothes” you say, grabbing the muffin as you begin to walk to your room. “TOM WHAT DID YOU TO WHERE ARE MY PILLOWS?!”

“On the floor by the closet!” He shouts back. “She has twenty of them?” Tom says to Haz, confused. Harrison just nods and sees Tom’s wrist.

“So did you look? Are you a couple now?”

“What? Oh, no.”

“Why not?”

“It’s like an invasion of privacy” Tom tries to lie. He just didn’t have the guts to. Haz knew it. Tom knkw has knew it. That didn’t mean Tom was going to admit to it.

“Please. Please just... explain to me how looking at a wrist is an invasion of privacy. For... educational purposes?”

“No one wants anyone to know who their crush is I’m sure that’s why so many people have those chunky bracelet things.” He was right. A big thing was a thick band that covered names. A lot of people wore them.

“Okay but what if you’re on her wrist? Huh? Problem solved!”

“What problem?” You ask. “Still debating on what to call that?” You say, pointing to the croissant.

“Yes. We’re asking Siri. Hey Siri? How do you pronounce croissant?”

“Kruh-saant” Siri replies

“Ou, nous pouvons parler en francais et voila! Pas de problem!” You say

“Just because you went to Quebec that one time doesn’t mean you can speak French!” They tell you

“Okay if I can’t speak French then what did I say?”

“Sssomething about no problem and French” Tom says

“Or we something something French and voila no problem” Haz tries

“I said ‘or we could speak in French and tada no problem’”

“Say something else in French” Tom asks

“J’ai besoin de partir parce-que je travailler a 12” you say, smirk on your face at the end

“No clue” the boys say

“I have to go because I work at 12” you say, grabbing your phone and keys, waving before you closed the door behind you.

You waived with your right hand. And Harrison saw what was on your wrist.

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